Sam's shocked expression quickly faded into a bit of a bemused smile as she watched the little man, and when another voice rang out she stepped out of the room she had been hiding in to peer down the hall to see two more dwarves, another male and a female, standing around the unconscious Marshal. They explained how they had seen the Jockal attacking her before she had been found by the Marshal and brought here, and then how they orchestrated their rescue. From the sound of it these three were not allied with the Queen, and Sam allowed herself to hope that they had found friends, or at least people who would help them.

She felt herself smile a bit more as she observed the bickering between the male who had knocked at the door and the female, and didn't feel surprised when he introduced them as brother and sister. He had swept the hat off of his head and bowed, an action that made Sam blush a little despite herself, and introduced himself as Alphonse, his sister as Coralie, and their friend, who was sitting on the Marshal's chest, as Florian. She looked over at him to see his wave and she returned the smile before taking another look at the three rescuers. "It's lovely to meet all of you. My name's Sam," she told them, her tone grateful but she remained wary. They had sprung her from imprisonment, or what likely would have become imprisonment, but so far her experiences in this world had taught her to be initially cautious. Though she didn't want to believe the worst of them,

Something brushed against her leg and made a purring sound. Relief washed over her as Sam looked down to see Dorothea free of her cage and unscathed. "Dorothea! You're alright!" She knelt down, almost ready to pick up the cat, but she remembered that she was actually a princess and wondered if it would be appropriate. So instead she ran her fingers lightly along the fur on her back.

Alphonse spoke up again and Sam looked up to consider him as he offered her an invitation to dinner. She hadn't thought of food in hours, and it had felt like ten years had passed since she had eaten that Chinese take out at the office with Jane. She was famished, and as she looked into the hopeful face of Alphonse and over to where Coralie and Florian were preparing to carry the Marshal she let herself trust them a little more. Besides it was dark and they were still in the woods and couldn't get anywhere without help anyway. "I am hungry," Sam said in agreement, returning the smile as she gathered up Dorothea to set her back onto her shoulder once again. "And supper sounds so great. I'd be glad to accept your invitation. After all you did rescue me. And my cat."

She glanced over to the two dwarves carrying the unconscious man and looked back at Alphonse. "I'm guessing you three aren't very big fans of the witch. What are you going to do with him?" Sam gestured towards the Marshal.

"Tar 'n' feather!" Coralie piped with a devilish grin.

"Donkey ears?" Florian suggested, even as he heaved up the Marshal's feet.

"I don't think we're sure yet," Alphonse answered with a smile, replacing his hat on his head. "We'll tie him up at camp, and decide some creative use for him later. But now, come along, Sam and Dorothea! I see you've named your cat after the Princess of Eldonia. A brilliant choice, if I do say so."

Florian winked at Sam. "Al's had a crush on the Princess for years!"

"I respect the young royal," Alphonse snapped hotly. "She will be a fine queen one day." He smiled again, quickly changing the subject. "From which kingdom do you hail, Sam? Your style of dress is most peculiar. Our home is in Verinia -- just across the border here in the wood. It's not far."

Coralie led the way through the demolished front door, passing cracked burning pieces of wood and metal, hauling the Marshal's shoulders while Florian followed with his feet. Once they were out in the open, they hoisted the Marshal over their heads and set off at a quick pace; they were apparently much stronger than they looked.

Dorothea clung tightly to Sam's shoulder, making every effort to avoid digging claws into her shirt. She whispered into Sam's ear. "In the morning, Prince Liam will be on his way into the Verinia capital to look for me -- he thinks I've been kidnapped by their soldiers." She didn't exactly have a plan, but she couldn't keep the Queen's goals to herself. "The queen is planning war between my kingdom and theirs."

When Alphonse mentioned that she had named her cat after Eldonia's princess Sam made herself continue to smile casually. "That's exactly what I did, yes." She had noticed that Dorothea had remained silent and Sam decided that her not actually being a cat was Dorothea's secret to tell. She didn't want to let the cat out of the bag. Almost literally. She had to hide her smile when Florian told her about Alphonse's crush on Dorothea and at Alphonse's own response, and chanced a glance at the princess on her shoulder, biting her lip through her smile.

The smile faltered slightly when she was asked where she came from, and she looked down at her clothes when Alphonse called them peculiar. Sam supposed they didn't have denim jeans in this world and even if they did women wouldn't be wearing them. "Oh, my home is very far away from here." She wasn't sure if she should tell them exactly where she came from, as she had no idea how the people here would react to someone not from their world. Maybe they wouldn't have believed her. Or maybe it would have been worse. "My kingdom is um, in another country. It's so far away that I don't think you would have heard of it. I'm just visiting this land and I got a bit lost." There were enough almost truths to not make it a total lie.

She followed the three dwarves, stepping through the hole they had created where the front door had once been, and saw them making their way into the trees. Coralie and Florian had the Marshal held over their heads as they moved along. Sam felt impressed at their strength for a moment before hurrying after them. She's already run blindly through these woods once and that had not ended well.

Dorothea whispered into her ear and Sam's head tilted a bit to listen. Her fiance thought she had been taken by soldiers from Verinia, the kingdom Alphonse, Coralie, and Florian were from. And most likely where they were headed now. When Dorothea told her that her stepmother planned to start a war she looked over at her. "Why would she do that?" She looked back over at the dwarves who were leading the way and bit her lip in thought. "Maybe we should tell them. About who you are and the queen's plans. They obviously don't like her but they seem to like you fine. And they rescued us from her fortress when they didn't even know who we were." Sam met Dorothea's gaze and continued to whisper. "I think they could help us? Maybe take us to their capital and we could warn their king before Liam shows up? I don't think we could navigate through these woods on our own since I'm basically useless."

Dorothea shifted uncertainly, her yellow eyes watching their little rescuers as they laughed and insulted one another. She couldn't imagine that they would in any way be connected with her enemies -- the princess was drawn to trust them, yet she didn't want to drag them into harm's way as she had done to Sam. Kind people had a tendency to meet tragic ends in stories like these. "Maybe over supper," she replied quietly. "I wouldn't want to surprise them terribly until we're out of danger." The Jockal was still somewhere nearby, as were the Queen's spirits that the Marshal had released from their bottle. With her cat's eyes she watched the forest shadows.

But soon they emerged into a wide grassy clearing, already warmed by a glowing campfire. The tents were built sturdy, warm and colorful, accented with childish drawings, sewn-on shells and dangling chimes, and blue embroidered leaves and animals -- the dwarves had habitually added more paint and decoration to the tents whenever they were bored, which resulted in curious and eclectic taste. There were crates and barrels stacked under awnings, makeshift shelves with all manner of cooking utensils, bags of food hanging from the branches, and dusty old rugs and well-used cushions arranged comfortably by the fire. It was a cozy and lived-in arrangement, as good as any family room with the stars for a ceiling.

Florian set to work tying up the Marshal against a tree while Coralie deftly set up pots and grills at the fire for cooking. A bag of food was taken down for the occasion, and soon enough the aroma of rabbit stew and cornbread filled the camp.

"Please, sit down sit down," Alphonse declared, puffing his chest proudly. "Tell us about yourself, Sam! And how did you come to be captured by the wicked witch of the wood?"

It occurred to Dorothea, then, that these dwarves had no idea that the wicked witch they knew so well was actually the queen of Eldonia. Dorothea jumped down from Sam's shoulder and curled up comfortably on one of the cushions. She gave Sam a confident look, and she nodded. She felt it was all right to tell the truth.

The camp felt...homey. Sam never knew that someplace outside could feel so warm and welcoming. The tents looked lively and colorful, decorated with drawings and chimes and shells that made her smile as she observed them. There was a kitchen type area under an awning and at the center the campfire filled the clearing with warmth and light. The rugs and cushions surrounding the crackling fire looked comfortable and inviting, and though Sam was a stranger to this land and they were out in the open she felt safe for the first time. It felt a bit like home.

Florian was tying the still unconscious Marshal to a tree and Coralie was busying herself with gathering food and cooking utensils. It wasn't long before the smell of her cooking filled the air and Sam's stomach began to ache with emptiness. She hadn't realized how hungry she actually was until she had inhaled the scent of the stew and cornbread. Alphonse, meanwhile, had invited her to sit down and tell them about herself. And the story of her capture by the witch.

Sam hesitated, staring into the flames as though lost in thought. Dorothea had suggested not telling them the truth until they were at the campground and away from danger. But she was beginning to feel reservations about bringing them into this. They were so kind, rescuing her and now feeding her when she was just a stranger and Sam knew that if anything happened to them because of this mess she'd never forgive herself. Dorothea's weight left her shoulder as the cat dropped down on one of the cushions and settled down onto it. Sam saw her nod and took a breath as she wondered where to begin. She had meant it when she had told Dorothea that she thought they needed help, after all.

"My story is a bit complicated," she began as she took a seat on a rug beside Dorothea's cushion. She was still looking at the dancing flames and she let out a soft laugh. "And it's going to sound crazy, I know it is. But you have to believe me. I promise that I'm telling you the complete truth." Sam bit her lip for a moment as she gathered her words and when she spoke her voice was clear, although a bit hesitant. "The truth is that the witch doesn't know a thing about me. She doesn't know I was at her lair, she doesn't even know I'm in this land. It's because I'm not really...supposed to exist here." Sam was avoiding looking up at the faces of her audience, afraid to see the disbelief. "I told you that my kingdom is far away. Well... The witch has this mirror, you see, and it can act as a sort of doorway? Sometimes you can step through it and out of an identical mirror in another world. And that's where I'm from. Another world. One that's so, so different from this one, I cannot even begin to describe how different my world is." Sam looked down at the oversize sweater and jeans she was wearing. "That's why my clothes look so strange to you."

She had her fingers knotted together out of nerves and she compelled herself to continue to story. "I found this cat in my home. It happened only hours ago, I think. And I thought this cat belonged to one of my neighbors and decided to let her stay in my apartment til morning. Then I would try to find her proper owner. And a few hours later, right before sunrise, someone started pounding on my front door. I answered it and these three men just came in. I thought they were wearing costumes." She felt silly thinking about that now. "He was one of them." She nodded towards where the Marshal was tied securely to the tree. "And I realized that they were after the cat. But she slipped away from them and I watched her leap right through the mirror. So the Marshal and his men followed. And I guess they thought I knew too much because the Marshal had them bring me with them through the mirror. Into this world." Sam was looking down at her hands now, trying not to sound too bothered by her kidnapping. But her voice had become strained. "We managed to escape and run into the woods. But then the Jockal started hunting me and...well you know the rest of it."

Sam looked up at the three face and she smiled, a bit nervous. "I'm trapped here now. In this world. The mirrors' doorway is only open when there's a full moon in my world. And by now the sun has risen and there won't be a full moon again for another month. In my world's time at least. I don't know if it'll be the same for this world." She rested her forearms on her knees. "It doesn't seem possible, but I'm telling the truth. I swear. And if you're wondering why the witch's men were after a cat...well maybe I'm not the best person to tell you that part of the story. I can tell you that I didn't just name my cat after the princess of Eldonia, though." Sam looked down at the cat who was curled up on the cushion beside her, and her eyes pleaded for help. "Dorothea?"

While Sam was speaking, Coralie handed her a steaming bowl of stew and a generous slice of cornbread -- the two men sat gawping at the otherworld girl, their food suspended in their hands while they tried to wrap their heads around her story. They were about to get a much bigger shock.

At Sam's prompting, Dorothea sat up primly and scanned her audience with cool yellow eyes -- and she waited until they all were looking at her before she spoke. "I am Princess Dorothea of Eldonia," she said clearly -- and the dwarves just about fell over.

"The cat can talk!" Florian blurted.

"You can't be the princess!" Coralie pointed out. "The princess is a human girl, the last time I checked!"

"Your wicked witch of the wood is my stepmother, the Queen Narissa," Dorothea went on solidly, unruffled by the shocked murmurs that went up among the dwarves. "She has dreams of power and control over the five kingdoms: her plans began with getting me out of her way. The Marshal and his men attacked my caravan, slaughtered my guards, kidnapped me, and left evidence that the culprits were soldiers of Verinia. Your kingdom has been framed for a grave crime," she added, seeing the horrified look in the dwarves' eyes. "The queen -- the witch -- turned me into this form as a mockery, but before she could cage me I escaped into Sam's world, to which the Marshal followed."

The quiet that followed was broken only by the crackle of the campfire. Eventually, Coralie gathered enough wits to lay a bowl of stew for the princess, who ate hungrily yet delicately.

Florian spoke first. "Well, that... That's really awful." None of the dwarves really knew what to say -- they were only getting over the shock that the cat was a princess, let alone that they were sharing supper with a girl from another universe.

Alphonse finally recovered enough from his embarrassment of meeting the princess like this, and he cleared his throat. "So the witch wants you locked away in hiding, to further her personal goals of power," he clarified aloud. "So I am glad she is not getting what she wants. You are free and safe here."

"The witch should be put down like a dog!" Coralie cried fiercely.

"I can't stay here," Dorothea said. "By tomorrow morning my father's men will be on their way to Verinia's castle to accuse them of my kidnapping. If Narissa has her way, there will be war. I must prevent that from happening."

"We will take you there," Alphonse offered immediately -- and the others did not object. "Sleep well here. At first light we'll ride for the capital. Your story shall be told."

"I would be honored to accept your help," Dorothea replied in a low voice. She looked up to her friend. "Sam, I hope that you might consider staying here. The queen's hollow isn't far, and someone can take you down to the mirror door once it's open again. You might be waiting a long while, but you'll be safe, and you can go home."

"You seem to be under the impression," August's voice suddenly rose up from the far side of the camp, "that a bunch of dwarves and a talking cat have the least chance of even getting a message to the king and queen, let alone would such a story be believed."

"Then we'll find Liam on the road and convince him," Dorothea spat.

"These three dwarves are the bandits that've been terrorizing the King's Road for the past three years," August pointed out -- and he was proven right when Alphonse, Florian and Coralie exchanged uncertain looks. "They'll be run through before they get close enough to shout. The girl is innocent and unknown. She's your best asset right now."

Sam took the food, feeling even more eternally grateful to Coralie and the rest of them. The bowl was warm in her hands and she blew into it a bit to cool the steaming stew. She nibbled on the cornbread while she waited for it to lower to a temperature that would not scald her tongue and the insides of her mouth, and soon she was consuming spoonfuls of the stew. She could feel herself becoming warmer by the minute and she settled a bit to watch their host's reactions.

The three seemed stunned by her story, but the real surprise came when Dorothea began to speak. Sam hid a smile, wondering if her face had worn a similar expression when she had heard Dorothea speak for the first time. But if anyone could convince them it was Dorothea. The three denied at first, not particularly surprising, but as Dorothea continued to tell her part of the story Sam could see their expressions changing from shock and disbelief, to horror that their kingdom was in trouble and acceptance of the outlandish tale. She could see it on their faces during the long pause that followed the end of Dorothea's account. It filled Sam with relief. She became less tense, knowing that they believed.

The dwarves seemed to be lost for words, not that Sam blamed them, but soon the talking continued and Dorothea told them what she needed. Or rather where she needed to go. And the three offered to help her almost at once. And then everything seemed to be falling together. They had a safe place to sleep and people to guide them through this unfamiliar territory. Dorothea suggested to her that she stay, as it was close to the hollow and the mirror. Sam looked around the camp, and nodded her head a bit. It was a safe place to wait until her way back home opened once again. It was inhabited by three people who had already shown how welcoming they could be. And she was tried of trudging through the woods. It wasn't a bad plan at all, even though Sam didn't like the fact that it might take a long time for her opportunity to go home to even present itself. But still... "You're probably right," she said, leaning back a bit to set her empty bowl on the ground beside her. "If that's alright with you guys, of course." Sam said this to the dwarves.

Then another voice spoke up, horribly familiar, and Sam winced as she turned to look at where the Marshal was tied up. The tranquilizer the dwarves had used on him had worn off and he was perfectly awake and had apparently been listening. He pointed out the flaws in their plan and she didn't want to admit that he was probably right. But he was probably right. When he accused the dwarves of being bandits Sam looked over at the three questioningly and saw the uncomfortable, guilty faces. But she didn't speak until he said that the girl was Dorothea's best asset. And there was only one person that girl could be.

"Me?" Sam said, looking over at him with her eyes narrowed. "An asset? No. No, no, no. I'm not an asset, and definitely not the best one. I'm just...lost. And confused. And useless." She looked around at all five of them, as though daring them to disagree. "I am literally useless." Her gaze fixed upon the Marshal again and her eyebrows furrowed. "Anyway why are you suggesting that? Why do you even care? You work for the Queen."

"Don't encourage him, Sam," Dorothea, said sharply. She and the dwarves were silent on the topic of Sam's uselessness -- none of them were willing to agree with the Marshal on any point he made, yet they didn't wish to hurt Sam's feelings. Dorothea went on: "He's just trying to manipulate you."

"The princess is a child compared to you," the Marshal said, blatantly ignoring the cat. "She's not your princess, yet you let her snap at you and tell you what to do. All she's seen her entire life is the inside of a castle, a few trips to visit her perfect boyfriend in his perfect kingdom, and she thinks this gives her the right to tell her elders what to do, make them feel inferior, while she pretends to be a hero for the sake of her Prince Charming, ignorant of the country that's falling apart around her."

Alphonse jumped to his feet at that, wielding his spoon like a sword. "Stand down, you knave!" he shouted.

"Someone gag him," Dorothea hissed.

"This idiot plan is doomed to end in war," the Marshal raised his voice, and he was still talking only to Sam. "More people dead, the dwarves will be first to go -- if you sit here on your hands feeling sorry for yourself, just because the cat yells at you and the dwarves treat you like a porcelain child. There is one thing that you know well that they'll never understand: that things are never what they seem." He watched Sam intensely, and he was talking about her, and himself, and the princess and the kingdoms."Your voice is the most powerful of all of them, but you keep it locked under their condescension."

"You never answered her question, Marshal," Dorothea spoke up again, low in anger. "Why do you care?"

He replied, with a cruel smirk, "I wish you'd use my name once in awhile, Princess."

"Your name is dead to me," Dorothea snapped.

Coralie had gotten up, dusted off her hands and marched over to the bound Marshal. Once Dorothea had finished speaking, the dwarf snapped a cloth into the Marshal's mouth and tied it tight behind his head, silencing him and returning peace to their meal.

Alphonse shook off the discomfort of cold words, and he smiled. "Well, that's better," he piped. "Who'd like some more stew?"

The Marshal -- pale and haggard from blood loss and hunger, the ropes and the gag cutting into him -- nevertheless glared fiercely at Sam, daring her to stand up and think for herself.

Sam wanted to take her eyes away from him, from the man who had broken into her home and kidnapped her and threatened to slice her ear off. But as he spoke to her, ignoring the warnings from Dorothea and the dwarves, she found that she couldn't look away from his eyes. He words washed over her and she ignored everything else about the campground. For those moments it was like he was the only thing that existed. And then he was gagged and Dorothea and the dwarves tried to resume a normal conversation. But when Sam turned back to the fire she could feel his gaze on her and she could not get what he had said out of her mind.

She hated how his words impacted her. She hated him, she shouldn't have been listening to him. But Sam knew he was right. Once he had said the plan would fail she knew it was true. She hadn't wanted to admit it before but now she could no longer lie to herself. She hated how she felt her heart aching at the thought of a war ravaging a world that was not her own, of how she had allowed herself to be walked over. That wasn't like her. Ever since finding herself here she had been acting so unlike herself that looking back now it made her a bit sick. Sam wasn't the sort of person who cowered and hid away, or was dependent and timid. She was independent, she was a fighter, she controlled her life, and she could take care of herself. Sam lived alone without apprehension in one of the unfriendliest cities in her world, and had worked her way through law school on her own, defying age old beliefs that women couldn't do it. She had been acting like a victim, something she told herself she'd never do. Sam wasn't from this world. She wasn't made of porcelain. She wasn't a damsel in distress or some purehearted maiden. She was the goddamn hero of her life story. She may not have skills and strength like the Marshal's, but Sam wasn't weak.

And she did know that things were never what they seemed. And she knew that she wasn't satisfied with the gag around the Marshal's mouth. He had more to tell her, some more to explain. And Sam was going to hear it. Princess of Eldonia be damned.

Sam looked over at the cat and, despite the fact that she liked Dorothea, she felt angry with herself for letting a cat tell her what to do. Dorothea may have been a princess but Sam wasn't one of her subjects. "Don't stop me," she told her firmly before standing up and striding purposely over to the Marshal. Her movements dared the four at the fire to stop her and she paused in front of the Marshal to consider him for a moment. Then she bent down and pulled the cloth down from his mouth so it hung around his neck and knelt so they were at eye level. "First," Sam began, glaring at him with her own ferocity, "you're going to tell me your name. Then you're going to tell me why it is you care so much about stopping the queen when you, in fact, work for the queen. And convince me. Convince me that you mean it. Because maybe then I'll listen to the rest of what you have to say."

Dorothea stared after Sam in alarm, her eyes big and her ears high. She looked to the dwarves for help, but they only watched grimly, all of them fully believing that Sam was being played, that she was falling for the Marshal's terrible tricks. They didn't stop her, however -- they couldn't say a word without proving the Marshal's point, and that was the worst kind of helplessness. They were forced to let Sam make her own decision.

With the gag removed, the Marshal breathed and swallowed -- though he never let his eyes move away from hers. For a moment he was quiet, and he glared into her ferocious eyes for a few silent moments just to see if she would look away. When she didn't -- when she held his gaze just as fiercely -- he smirked just a little, satisfied that for the moment she would only judge for herself.

"My name is August Derrick," he said firmly, though quiet -- Dorothea's ears were swiveled toward them, and the princess was listening with all her feline might. There were some things he would rather not say in front of the princess. He whispered in a voice steady and determined, so only Sam would hear. "I work for the queen precisely because I want to stop her. I have done horrible things," he snarled, and his voice lowered to a hiss, "and in return she tells me her secrets, she trusts me to carry out her plans, she keeps me close. Sooner or later she'll show me her weakness. That's what I'm waiting for. The moment I know where to strike I will destroy the queen." His eyes were intense; he would die for this. His reputation, his honor, and the trust of everyone he knew had already been sacrificed. "You can't tell any of this to Dorothea. She has to keep hating me, it's vital that the queen never suspects." If Narissa even thought for a moment that Dorothea doubted the evils of the Marshal, the queen would turn her back on him, and everything he had built would have been for nothing. He set his jaw, and he gave Sam a grim smile. "But I can't stop you from telling her, can I?"

Sam could feel Dorothea and the dwarves gazing nervously and disapprovingly at her as she knelt there in front of him and listened. She was leaning as close as she dared, gazing intently at him as he spoke, never taking her eyes off of his. She looked into his eyes, searching for any indication of a trick or a lie, but saw only intense determination as he told her about his true motivations for serving the queen: to find her weakness and use it to destroy her. He told her that she couldn't tell Dorothea, that her attitude about him could never change. Sam's eyes narrowed a bit as she considered this, almost tempted to glance behind her to see the cat but refusing to break eye contact with August Derrick. She searched for any sign of a lie in his eyes and face, a tell or a nervous twitch. She found nothing. He appeared to be genuinely honest. Or he was a very good liar.

He gave her a grave smile when he pointed out that he couldn't stop her from telling Dorothea if that's what she wanted to do. Sam smirked in response. "No, not really," she agreed. Her tone was just as quiet as his, as she knew Dorothea must be straining her ears to listen to their conversation. Her eyes narrowed a bit more as she considered him one last time before speaking again. "But maybe I won't tell her. I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet. You have to admit, August, that it's difficult for me to trust you after everything you did to me today. Even if you're telling the truth and everything you did was to keep up appearances with the queen. You still kidnapped me."

She was biting her lip in thought, going over every exchange they had shared in her head. He had in fact kidnapped her. And chased her through the woods. And held a knife up to her eye and threatened to pluck it out. Among other things. That hadn't seemed like a man who was secretly against his evil mistress. But August had told her that he had been forced to do terrible things to keep Narissa's trust. And then he had hid her from men who had seemed eager to impale her, and then from the queen herself. He had probably saved her life. Sam studied the enigma of a man before her again before speaking. "Alright. Let's pretend I believe you for a moment. You said I'm Dorothea's best asset. That my voice is the most powerful." Her brow furrowed, attempting to understand. "What did you mean? I'm not from this world, why would anyone listen to anything I have to say?"

It was pathetic how much it meant to him to be called by his name, and not in mockery. August relaxed just a fraction; he let out a breath, and the ferocity dimmed from his eyes, though his expression remained stoic as ever.

"It's precisely because you're not from this world that everyone will listen to what you have to say. All you have to do is say it." It was his turn to look deep into her eyes, searching for that fire she'd shown him more than once since he brought her through the mirror door. "Think about it: they don't know what to expect from you." He nodded toward the uncomfortable gathering by the fire. "You dress strange, you talk strange, you have a man's name." He smirked a little. "You might as well have come from another planet. Dorothea tries to control you. The dwarves try to placate you. The queen would have you destroyed. They're all afraid. You have no ties to anyone or anything in this world: you see all this with new eyes, no prejudice, no preconceptions, and that makes you dangerous. No one could accuse you of lying or taking sides, because the only reason you would stand up and speak is if you knew in your heart that it was moral and right to do so. Your judgment means more than warring armies. You could strip them all bare with a word and show them their lies." His expression darkened again. "The only advice I would give you is to stay true to yourself, and don't listen to anyone." He smirked coolly. "Especially me."

At the remark about her name Sam's smirk mirrored his. "My name's actually Samantha. That's a girl's name." Mostly the smirk and comment were to mask the profound effect his words were having on her. She was invaluable due to her otherworldly status. She was a person with no loyalties or bias, someone who had no preconceived notions about this world and could see things for what they were. Who could change this world with her observations and words. A potentially powerful ally to the ones who she saw fit and a dangerous weapon to those she did not. This world was a chess board and he was telling her she was a queen on it. The most powerful piece. "Essentially what you're saying is that the greatest weapon in this world is me. You think I can stop this war before it has a chance to happen. Stop Narissa. With just a few words." What he was asking of her, or at least what she thought he was asking of her...it made her a bit tense just thinking about it.

He advised her to stay true to herself and to not listen to anyone. His smirk was back when he emphasized not listening to him. She smirked back. "You mean like right now, for instance? All of this could have just been a pack of lies to fluff my ego and manipulate me." Sam nodded her head, considering that option. Maybe he was playing her. Or maybe he was being honest. She wasn't entirely sure what she believe. "Even if I did believe a word of this you know I won't let you go. I'd have to keep up appearances so Dorothea won't suspect you're not actually evil." Her smirk slipped a bit as her expression became serious. "And even if I did believe you, and I took action...I can't do it alone. I need help. If for no other reason then the fact that I have no idea where to go." Her lips pursed she mulled all of this over and Sam met his gaze when a thought came to her. "You know back in my world I was never brave enough to take this one stupid exam. So tell me August. What makes you think I'm brave enough to save your world?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, considering a moment. "Now you're just fishing for compliments." He flashed a grin. "You said it yourself, I'm probably just inflating your ego to manipulate you -- so you ask me a question like that, where the only possible answer is more flattery." He leaned his head back on the tree, and he found himself thinking of the long night to come, stuck here, sick and hungry and in pain until dawn -- and he selfishly wanted her to stay here and talk to him.

"Honestly I don't know if you're brave enough," he went on, his smile fading. "But I never said anything about doing this alone. You have the princess, and the numbskull dwarves, and they'll follow you if you stand up and lead. Bravery's moving forward despite fear -- and you've got fear, so you're halfway there at least. It's easier with a sword. It looks like I won't be needing mine anytime soon."

Dorothea stood up, worried and impatient. "Sam? Come on, we should get some sleep."

Sam smiled, a genuine one instead of a smirk when he said she was fishing for compliments. He was grinning, too. It was the first time she'd seen him really smile beyond his smirking and wicked grins. It was sort of handsome. If you liked that sort of thing. "Yeah. Maybe I am. I don't know, sometimes I like a good lie. They can be a nice confidence booster, and I think I'm going to need as much of it as I can get." The smile slipped a bit as he continued speaking and she thought about the ragtag group behind her. She knew that they couldn't convince anyone of anything on their own. But would they really follow her? Would the people of this world really listen to her? He was right about her having fear. She had a lot of it. But despite the fear she couldn't stop herself from letting out a small laugh when he spoke about his sword. "Me? Wielding a sword? That's a scary thought."

For the first time since she had left the fire Dorothea called out to her. And Sam turned away from the Marshal to look back at her. "Yeah, in a minute!" She looked back at August and was quiet for a moment. "You know you're not half bad when you aren't acting like an evil asshole. I want to believe you. But I don't know if I can." Sam glanced down, the corner of her mouth twitching up into a half smile. "I won't tell Dorothea, though. About you secretly working against the queen. Even if it is a lie." She nodded down at the cloth hanging around his neck. "I'm going to have to put that gag back on you." Sam hesitated, searching his face again for any sign of deception but not seeing any. She just didn't know. "Goodnight August."

She reached forward and regagged him before rising to her feet and turning around back towards the fire. Her expression was troubled for a moment but when she got closer to the cat and the dwarves she wore a smile. "Pretty sure he was playing me the whole time," she told them with a shrug, reassuring them that everything was fine. But she discreetly glanced back to look at where August was tied up when the dwarves weren't looking, curiosity in her gaze. "It's been a long and trying day," Sam said, brushed her hair back behind her ear when she looked back at the four of them, smiling tiredly. Her exhaustion was completely genuine. "Where can Dorothea and I sleep?"

August continued to watch her thoughtfully, with a small curious smile, even as he accepted the gag back into his mouth. He decided he'd done all he could -- that if Sam never believed him, his own plans had not failed. He still had the queen's trust, he could still make his plans to take her down the moment she turned her back. It might mean taking the kingdoms to the brink of war, but the alternative was far more disastrous. While Sam moved away he closed his eyes, though knowing he would never sleep, and he planned for his escape.

At the news of Sam's decision against the Marshal's manipulations, Dorothea and the dwarves breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"You two can take this tent all to yourselves," Alphonse piped, hopping to his feet again, and he took off his hat while he led Sam and the princess to one of the farthest tents, laden with wind chimes and embroidered in a rainbow of threaded trees and birds. Inside was one thick straw mattress and piles of blankets and pillows in all shapes and sizes. "Coralie and I will be in the opposite, and Florian in the third. He snores like a bear in winter."

"I do not!" Florian called in protest while he jammed his nightcap on his head.

"So if he disturbs you terribly," Alphonse went on, "just march over there and give him a swift kick in the head."

"Works like a charm!" Coralie agreed, grinning. Florian frowned and rubbed his head.

Alphonse's expression turned a bit more serious. "Princess, we will retrieve you at dawn. We have a friend not far from here who I think will lend us some horses -- we'll head there first, then we'll ride to the capital."

"Thank you, Alphonse," Dorothea said with a courteous bow of her head. "We deeply appreciate everything you've done for us."

Alphonse fidgeted with his hat, smiling, and he bowed a little to Dorothea, then to Sam, before heading off to his own tent.

Sam smiled at the dwarf and nodded in thanks as he went off to the tent she would share with his sister. She turned and peered into their tent and considered the mattress for a moment before looking down at Dorothea with a half smile. “Hope you don’t mind sharing a bed, Princess. Because there’s no way that I’m taking the floor.”

She cast one last glance over to where Marshal August Derrick was secured to the tree and she saw that his eyes were closed. But the night was long and cold and she doubted he would get much sleep out in the open. He looked vulnerable. Sam found herself hoping that the cold or any forest creature wouldn’t kill him overnight, and then wondered why she cared.

She turned away and went into the tent and began arranging blankets and pillows on top of the straw before lying down and bundling herself up. It wasn’t the softest bed, like her bed back home, but it was more comfortable than she could have hoped for and she was warm. Sam gave Dorothea one last look before smiling a bit. “Night Dorothea.” Then she turned on her side and closed her eyes.

Sam had been afraid that her thoughts and troubles would keep her awake, that her conversation with August would replay over and over again and haunt her to sunrise. But maybe she had been more tired than troubled because she slipped into slumber rather quickly. But not before she had had a little bit of time to ponder over August’s words and wonder if he could be telling her the truth. Despite her exhaustion and how deeply she had been sleeping Sam woke early the next day. She could see dim sunlight through the canvas of the tent and knew could only be minutes away. Sam pushed herself up and turned her head to look at the doorway of the tent, a determined gleam in her eyes.

~~~

Prince Liam had gotten out of bed before dawn with a similar sort of determination. However he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep. He had tossed restlessly all night, unable to drift off due to thoughts of Dorothea in a dungeon or Dorothea in a cage. He doubted he’d sleep peacefully until she was safe again.

He had dressed quickly, wearing the colors of Itelia over his chainmail, and strode purposefully through the castle and out into the courtyard where his caravan was already assembling and preparing for the journey. Will was there, wearing the same colors as Liam, and the other fifteen men where all Eldonians who had volunteered to retrieve their lost princess. They were loading saddle bags and other supplies onto the spare horses and Liam was nodding approvingly. Until he saw something unexpected.

“Will, what is that doing here?” he asked suddenly, his brow furrowing as he pointed to the carriage positioned behind the other horses. He hadn’t asked for a carriage. Carriages may have been able to carry their supplies but they also were too slow.

Will looked to where he was pointing and went a bit pale. His expression was unhappy and slightly annoyed. “The Princess Raquelle will be joining us, Sire.”

Liam looked at him as though this were some sort of practical joke. “…What?”

Down the castle steps Raquelle glided like a fairy, a wide smile on her painted lips and a happy glimmer in her eye. She'd been awake since the darkest hours of the morning in preparation: her hair shimmered like the sunlight, and her long laced gloves and perfect green dress (simple by her standards, exotically expensive but appropriate for travel because there were no hoops in her skirt) had been neatly fitted by several pairs of skilled servants' hands. The emeralds in her earrings set off the brilliance of her eyes.

When she spotted the carriage she lighted the last few steps and hurried daintily to Liam's side. "Liam, I'm coming along to offer my support," she stated firmly. "It will look terribly for you if you arrive without a lady in your company. the Verinian king and queen might interpret hostility in a dozen armed men at their door. The two of us together would make a more courteous visit of it, don't you think?" She turned to Will without waiting for a reply. "Is the carriage ready?"

---

Dorothea's ear twitched, and she lazily opened one eye when Sam stirred -- but the princess, assuming that Sam only wanted the outhouse, merely repositioned herself in the pile of pillows, sighed deeply and fell back to sleep. She would take every precious moment of rest she could afford, for she couldn't be sure when she would have another chance.

Outside, the trees were gray with the first light. Florian was still snoring in his tent. Coralie was managing the food supply, packing up what they would take with them while she set eggs and hash and coffee over the fire. She chewed while she worked, tying off bags and stuffing backpacks. It wasn't a terribly long journey, but it was best to be over-prepared.

"Well, he's alive," Alphonse called from the Marshal's tree. The dwarf had found the Marshal motionless and barely breathing: he held one of August's eyes open and peered in. August, in return, glared hatefully at him and bit at the gag. He was paler than before, having spent the night fully awake -- but at the dwarf's suggestion that he was in any way weaker than before, he sat up straighter and a fiery determination came back to his eyes.

Alphonse, rightfully, took a step back. "What do we do with him?" he asked Coralie quietly.

Coralie didn't answer right away, but focused on a knot she was tying around a food sack. "We're thieves, not murderers," she said without looking up. "But we can't take him with us."

Alphonse removed his hat and scratched his fuzzy head.

Liam blinked up at Raquelle as she descended the steps, not quite sure what was happening or how this had happened without him hearing about it. "No," he started to say, shaking his head. "No, Raquelle, I don't think this would be appropriate. We don't know what to expect, and there are bandits on the road." But she was speaking and he hated to admit that her points were valid. But they were. Traveling with a lady would make them look less hostile, would look better than a group oof armed men marching across the border. They weren't out to start a war. They were going to cooperate.

He gritted his teeth, feeling up against a corner as he grudgingly felt himself complying to her will. The only thing he felt he had to object to was when she asked about her carriage. "No carriage," he told her, standing up straighter as though taking a defensive stance. "I suppose I can't stop you from joining us, Raquelle. But if you do you need to ride on horseback like everyone else. A carriage is too large, too slow, and this is an urgent task. We need to move quickly. So no carriage." He looked at her expectantly. "I hope that won't be too much of a problem for you."

~~~

Sam had slipped on her boots and gotten off of the bed. She paused for a moment and stretched her arms, letting out relieved sigh as she did so. Glancing behind her to where Dorothea was still curled up on a pillow, Sam bit her lip. She knew Dorothea was not going to be pleased with what she was planning on doing. But the princess couldn't stop her, especially not in the form she was in now. Besides Sam was, at the end of the day, on her side. If getting home meant helping Dorothea and stopping a war then she had to help in the only way she knew she could.

Stepping out of the tent and into the clearing she saw two of the three dwarves all ready up and preparing. She could hear the sound of snoring coming from Florian's tent and she smiled. Maybe they had been trying to placate her like she was made of glass, but they had given her shelter and food and were willing to help Dorothea when they didn't have to. She liked them. Coralie had started prepapring breakfast and was packing up supplies while Alphonse was hovering around August. He was very pale, but his eyes were open and Sam was surprisingly glad to see that the chill hadn't killed him overnight. She could hear the two dwarves wondering what they were planning on doing with him and she moved forward. "Well if you don't take him with you then there's going to be no one around to keep an eye on him." Sam folded her arms over her chest and glanced over at Coralie. "I hope there's enough supplies because I'm not staying behind. I'm going to the capital with you." Her tone indicated that she wasn't willing to fight or debate this.

Raquelle gave Liam a slack-jawed look as if the prince were completely out of his mind. "I can't ride in this!" she squeaked, holding out her dress for him to see. "And my shoes! These are certainly not riding boots. Oh, Liam!" She gave him a pretty, pleading look -- but the look he gave her was not to be wavered. Oh, what would her mother do?

Eventually she took a breath (a hard feat to accomplish, for she'd had her servants compress her ribcage into a quaint little corset) and she smiled sweetly. "All right, then. I will have my horse prepared. I won't be long!" she added playfully, smiling just for her prince, and she spun around with a flourish and trotted back into the castle.

A half-hour later she arrived again, accompanied by a side-saddled mare and three servants on their geldings. She had switched her polished shoes for riding boots, and required a stool and a strong assistant to hoist her into the saddle. She arranged her hair around her shoulders, imagining herself to appear mythical on the back of her quiet steed. Surely a little ride would be refreshing, she told herself.

Less than an hour into the journey, however, she began complaining to her servants of the insects that buzzed around her fruit-scented hair, and of the chafing of her saddle, and the unevenness of the road. "Liam!" she called out sweetly, two hours into the ride. "Why don't we stop for a picnic? I've brought watercress sandwiches!"

---

Alphonse blinked at Sam in surprise -- he hadn't expected this kind of tone from her, and he wasn't sure what to do. He shuffled his hat between his hands, and he smiled uncertainly. "Um ... good morning, Sam. Did you sleep well?"

The Marshal, still gagged, watched her with a trace of a satisfied grin.

Coralie, over by the remains of the fire, waved a spatula for attention. "You can come with us, though I don't see why, but you've made up yer mind I take it." She let out a heavy sigh, and she pointed the spatula at the Marshal. "Are you also sayin' you'll take charge of him? 'Cause I'm not carryin' him all the way to Doc Jolly's stable."

The Marshal growled audibly at this -- like hell he would allow himself to be carried.

"An' what'll it look like when we get to the castle and we've got an Eldonia guard prisoner?" Coralie went on. "They'll throw us out afore we get in!"