Narissa was still frowning, still extremely displeased with the Marshal and by all of these new surprises in her plan. But her eyes softened somewhat when Raquelle's face appeared in the mirror. Some of this plan and her schemes were for Raquelle. She would have a kingdom and a prince when all of this was over. But that was still quite aways off and they had business to attend to.

"The girl who arrived with the Marshal," Narissa began, urgent and quiet. "This Samantha Shea. Derrick told me she was a Verinian that was helping him and could be trusted, but I want a second opinion. Tell me about her. What do you think of her?"

~~~

Sam gave August no inclination that she could hear or see him. In the middle of the mushroom circle she was spinning and swaying gently, as though she could hear music, and she had an easy smile spread across her lips and occasionally laughed contentedly. But her gray eyes were completely vacant, just staring ahead of her without seeing.

"She cannot hear you. And she cannot get out on her own," a quiet voice said in reply to August. It was a very small, very young looking girl, curled up on a boulder in the clearing and hugging her knees to her chest. She was very thin and only about a foot tall, and her features were fair and delicate. She wore a loose white dress made of material that looked as soft as flower petals, but there were no shoes on her feet. She had skin as pale as moonlight and long silvery blonde hair that fell past her shoulders to the small of her back, while her eyes were violet and doe like. They looked very wise and sad, and the effect was rather unnerving on such a young looking face.

The little girl was watching Sam in the fairy ring with a melancholic expression and continued speaking. "Some fairies are more malevolent than others." She shook her head, almost disapprovingly. "And one of them really likes her, noticed her right away when she was on the fairy roads. It isn't often that an otherworlder comes so close..." She blinked her large eyes and looked up at August. "She followed the wisps, the ones that were sent for her. I wanted to stop them..." The little fairy girl sounded pained, guilty, and she looked back at the girl in the ring. "And now she's trapped in the ring's enchantment. She is halfway gone now. Her spirit is, at least. Into the fairy realm." Her eyes flickered back to the Marshal. "She cannot get out without help."

In the ring Sam was still smiling and dancing to the music that was only faint to those outside of the ring, but drowned out everything else for her. But tears had started to fall from her misty eyes and roll down her cheeks.

"Ooohh, Samantha!" Raquelle knew her mother wouldn't approve of the new girl. She stifled a grin of pleasure at the chance to gossip her complaints. "Well first of all she's dressed in some horrendous carnival outfit, and her hair is a complete wreck, and she smells like she's never heard of perfume. She's always talking to the Marshal -- and I mean always -- and I think she's a witch and she's put some kind of spell on him, because he talks to her. You know the Marshal, he never talks to anyone he doesn't have to, but I caught him smiling. She's got him bewitched. And I think Dorothea likes her, which worries me, Mother. Samantha is a double agent, isn't she? I knew it. Well, I've already set to getting rid of her, don't worry. I've put a few drops of pataliss potion in Liam's drink -- and come morning I'll say I saw her do it, and she'll be exiled if not executed on the spot. And the spell on the Marshal will be broken and all your plans will be as smooth as silk."

---

Sam. August stared after her, unsure how close he could get without trapping himself as well, horrified at the vacant look on her face -- as if she were already halfway gone. How could he have let this happen? He'd promised to protect her, to take her home to her family, and he'd failed. He'd already begun to rely on her for his sanity, to carry on hope that the queen could be destroyed without war -- hope, in the simplest of terms, was Sam herself. And now --

His sword flinched when a voice spoke, and he watched the fae girl warily, instinctively distrustful of anything that wasn't mortal -- but her words struck a chord in his chest, and rage seethed up from his stomach. She was chosen by a malevolent fairy! As if she were simply a toy that could be plucked away, a new shiny thing to be played with! He glared out at the floating blue lights, and the tears in Sam's eyes that might just be the remnant of her own mind screaming, and he wouldn't, couldn't allow anyone else to die or disappear.

August took a step forward, seething with anger. "How do I help her?" he demanded in a snarl to the fae girl -- but he was impatient for an answer, and the girl talked too slowly. "Sam!" he roared, trying to be heard over whatever it was she was dancing to, whatever possessed her and pulled her through the veil. He rushed around the edge of the circle, but he still dared not step over the edge. He stretched his hand in, reaching for her. "Sam, get out of there! Listen to me!" He glanced, enraged, at the fae. "What do I do!"

Narissa initially listened to her daughter's complaints with a patient expression, though she didn't really care how the girl dressed or looked or smelled. She was a peasant, no doubt, so why wouldn't she look that way? Though the trousers were odd for a girl. Even a peasant girl. It was when Raquelle mentioned the Marshal that Narissa truly began to pay attention. That the Marshal talked to her, smiled at her. Her eyes narrowed slightly. Not for one second did she believe that this Samantha girl was a witch. Darius surely would have sensed the power, and by extension she would have sensed it. But the way Raquelle claimed Derrick acted around her... If she wasn't already suspicious of him before she certainly was now. And Dorothea apparently liked the girl, too... "I don't know what she is," Narissa admitted, "If she is a double agent or not. I doubt she had magical capabilities though..."

Her suspicions, her troubles, were almost immediately torn from her when Raquelle told her mother what she had done to Prince Liam. "You did what?" Narissa hissed furiously, her green eyes flashing as she stared at her daughter. "You poisoned him with the potion? How could be so foolish? What in the world possessed you to do that? And made you think that was a smart decision? It was clumsy and dangerous! Do you know what that potion will do to him? What if the effects never wear off? I needed him perfectly intact and unscathed for when the company reaches the capitol? Stupid girl!" Narissa fumed and glared at her daughter. "And if your plan to get rid of her fails? When the Marshal defends her? Those men trust him more than they trust you. Fool." She closed her eyes and took a breath. "If your plan fails, and the girl remains with the company, watch her. And the Marshal. Report to me every night about their actions. I don't trust either of them. And try to fix this mess you created with Prince Liam. Maybe it'll make him fall in love with you." In her heart she wasn't hopeful of that last fact. It would be better if he married Raquelle willingly when this was over, but if not the marriage pact that had been made between Eldonia and Itelia so long ago still held firm. "Do not be so rash in the future, Raquelle. Fix this." And Narissa disappeared from Raquelle's mirror. The queen had had quite enough surprises for one night.

~~~

The fae girl watched August's enraged reactions to her words with her characteristic melancholy. She opened her mouth to answer at his initial question but he moved forward as he yelled for the girl Sam in a desperate rage. She watched him as he edged around the circle and reached for her. She shook her head as he did so. "It is not that simple," she said in her sad voice, "You cannot just pull her from the ring." And he rounded on her again to demand an answer. "My question for you, Marshal, is what won't you do?" the fairy girl said in her little voice, "What won't you do to save her?"

"What my little sister is trying to ask," another voice said from the trees, "is what you're willing to give up to save her." A tall young man stepped from the shadows of the trees, impossibly beautiful with pale skin and long silver blonde hair like the fairy girl's. His eyes were purple, too. But his were a pale shade of lilac rather than deep violet, and they were as wise as the girl's, but cold and calculating. He wore simple clothes made of fine material and a smirk on his face. "Hello, Eolande. Trying to spoil my fun again, are we?" he said to the little fairy, his sister, and she squeaked as she hid behind the boulder she had been sitting on. The fairy man looked back at August with his smirk. "Forgive my sister. She's always been a rebellious little thing. My name is Orin, prince of the Unseelie Court."

He loped gracefully to the ring and entered it without fear. He looked at Sam like a cat who had caught the canary, with triumph and a hint of hunger, and reached out to touch her cheek. Sam emitted a sigh as her head tilted toward the touch and Orin's smile grew, showing his teeth. "She's quite extraordinary, isn't she? So vibrant and fiery inside. Not like the mortal girls of this world. No, she's something special. I sensed her the moment she set foot on the fairy roads, and I just...I couldn't resist her. Such a fine prize. I must thank you, August Derrick, for bringing her to this world. To me. Without you none of this would be possible." He smiled at the man, mocking him, before turning his eyes back to Sam and he sighed longingly. "She has such spirit. And...she's rather pretty, isn't she? For a mortal? Haven't you noticed, August?" Orin gently turned Sam's head so August could clearly see her face. Her eyes gazed right at him without seeing, and her skin was growing paler as she was slowly drained from this world and into the fairy realm. Soon she'd start to fade away entirely. Orin leaned forward and kissed her cheek, watching the man outside of the ring as he did so. "So different, so lovely... She'll make an excellent pet, and I'll take good care of her. Don't you worry about that. She'll be happy with me."

Orin laughed for a moment before settling down and meeting August's gaze. "But I'm not entirely unfair. The girl is rather valuable to me, and I'd hate to loose her, but you do seem rather keen on getting her back. Perhaps...a compromise could be made? Depending on how far you're willing to go for her. How much you care for her." Orin took a moment to take Sam's hand and spin her slowly as though they were dancing, showing her off to August like she was an item on sale. Which, in this situation, she was. It was something that Sam would be livid about if she was truly conscious for this. But the subconscious part of her mind that wasn't enchanted by the ring was too busy to notice the world around her due to the fact that it was screaming from the pain of being pulled bit by bit into the fairy realm. It was her subconscious that was generating the tears that steadily flowed from her unfocused eyes. "Tell me August. How much is Samantha Shea worth to you? What are you, the Marshal who betrayed his kingdom and disgraced his name in order to protect it, ready to sacrifice to save this otherworld girl from her fate?" Orin's pale eyes watched August, were transfixed upon him. "Clock's ticking August. Before too long she will be lost to this realm. Tick tock, tick tock."

Raquelle stared dully at the mirror, and she tossed it into a corner of the tent and rolled over in bed with a huff. What did Mother know, anyway? Who did she think she was, to give orders from so far away, to assume she knew what was going on? Sure, Narissa was powerful -- and sure she'd manipulated a lot of important people -- but she didn't understand. And she'd called Raquelle stupid, even after the princess had divulged her brilliant plan. Nobody who calls her stupid can expect her cooperation. In teenage defiance, the princess seethed and muttered to herself, and she pretended to sleep, determined to do things the way she wanted to do them, to hell with her controlling mother. She would win Liam's heart, her way, whatever it takes.

---

August breathed through his teeth. His shoulders rose and fell. His fingers flexed around the hilt of his sword, but he dared not swing it; Sam was the thread that trembled delicate and in pain between them. The blue orbs cast a haunting glow on his furious face.

Images flashed through his mind. He could threaten the fairy -- he could strike -- and risk losing Sam forever. He could threaten the fairy's sister, hold her hostage at the edge of his blade -- but that would achieve little but to add to Sam's agony. The Marshal snarled and shifted a foot forward, a stance reserved for the duel, but still he stayed his hand. Sam's tears dripped from her chin, glimmering in the lights. So many lives lost. So many lives. Not hers.

"I will give you my weapon," he barked, and even before he'd finished speaking the fairy was laughing at him. He had to bargain so much higher -- but what did he have to give? What did he have that could possibly be worth Sam's life? He watched her vacant face -- not long ago it had been smiling, a brightness in the dark. Now, and forever more it would be empty. He wouldn't let that happen.

"I will give you knowledge," he growled, and he raised his voice above the fairy's renewed laughter. "My memories! Everything I've ever known, my past, you'll have it."

The fairy prince only smiled at him, smug.

August studied him. He stood straight, his expression like stone. "My future, then." His smirk was cruel and bitter. "Everything I will do, everything I will become, will be yours. Experience in this world is the one thing you can't have, isn't it? You're tethered to the fairy roads and the moonlight, forced to wait for what you want to wander into your traps. Live through me. I'll trade you my right eye -- its sight will be yours."

The fairy prince seemed not at all concerned about the fact that he was making a very dangerous man incredibly upset. The man wouldn't dare enter the ring, and if he tried to swing his sword he ran the risk of striking the girl, who was between them. What an excellent shield he had. Orin's laugh was clear and mocking as the Marshal first offered him his weapon, his sword. "Honestly. I could get one of those anywhere." His fingers traced sensually along Sam's slender waist and up the side of her stomach and chest before resting his hands on her shoulders. "Tick tock, tick tock," he repeated.

The man next offered his knowledge, which only made Orin laugh louder than before. This was almost pathetic. Stealing this girl away would be too easy, like taking sweets from a babe. "What knowledge could you possibly possess that would benefit me at all." He shook his head as though he was chiding a child. Next was his memories, his past, and Orin couldn't contain the boredom that idea filled him with before fixing a smug smile on August. "I'm disappointed, August," he confessed. "I thought you'd offer me something more...enticing in exchange for your lady. But clearly she means very little to you." He pressed himself closer to Sam, who still stood there without any idea what was happening around her. "Perhaps I'm doing her a favor by taking her..."

"My future, then."

For the first time interest flashed in Orin's eyes. "Come again?" he asked with a smirk and he listened as the Marshal offered a chance to experience the world that enticed Orin so much, but was mostly untouchable for him, through the Marshal himself. Through the vision of his right eye. Orin was silent for a moment, considering. The past meant very little to him, but the future? It was full of so many possibilities. And the future of a world that wasn't his own was...tempting. As tempting as the otherworld girl was. For a moment the fairy prince looked between the two, the Marshal and the girl, and then he smiled at the man.

"I...accept your offer. I will return the otherworlder to you in exchange for the sight of your right eye." Like any good bargain it needed to be sealed. Orin offered the Marshal his hand and when the man finally shook it his smile widened. There was a certain power in fairy bargains and it flowed through him and up into the mortal man's right eye. "See? That wasn't so bad, now was it?" Orin released his hand and turned back to Sam, nearly white as a ghost, and took her shoulders in his hands "To the days we could have had, my lovely lost girl," he purred to the uncomprehending girl and he briefly kissed her cold lips as he used his foot to kick aside some of the mushrooms.

The fairy ring's enchantment lifted as soon as the ring itself was broken, and Sam took in a shuddering gasp as life returned to her gray eyes and if Orin hadn't been holding her up she would have crumbled to the ground. The prince looked up at August and said in a cheery voice, "Catch," then pushed her at him. Sam stumbled and fell as Orin started walking away from the pair and back into the trees. "She'll be in shock for a little while, and very weak for a while longer, but she'll be perfectly fine. Pleasure doing business with you, August Derrick." He vanished into the shadows of the trees, and the remaining wisps flickered away as he did.

Sam, whether she had fallen to the grassy floor or August had managed to catch her, had her eyes half closed, tears still streaming from them, and her breathing was rapid and uneven, while her skin was pale and cold to touch. It didn't take long for what parts of her that had been drawn into the fairy realm to return, and soon her skin was regaining it's color and warmth while her breathing returned to normal. She let out a soft moan, her body shifting, and her eyes flickered all the way open to start up at the stars and moon before her gaze found August. She looked up at him for a moment, blinking in confusion as her memories were blurry. She vaguely remembered following the wisps to the clearing and noticing she had stepped into some sort of ring, but then it had gotten hazy. Now she just felt exhausted, and her entire body felt like she had been stretched apart while her limbs felt too heavy to move. "...August?" Sam said in a soft whisper, as that was all she was capable of. "What...what happened to me...? Where are..." Her eyes flickered around as much as they could, but she couldn't really recognize anything.

Eolande, meanwhile, had watched the exchange between August and Orin with wide eyes from behind her boulder. As soon as her brother had vanished once again she came out of hiding and propped herself up where she had been before, her violet eyes now fixed upon August and Sam.

August caught her as she fell, and he almost expected her to be half-gone, a shell of her former self, befitting of a bad trade with the fairies. In a guarded panic he supported her, his sword on the ground, and he moved her hair from her face so he could better see her state of mind. She was definitely weak, but the color had returned to her face and he could feel her heart and her breath. It was a little comfort, at least.

"You had a bad dream," he replied gruffly, and he carefully kept his voice even and his expression firm, though his own heart was still beating furiously. She didn't have to know how close she'd come to disappearing forever into the fairy realm. She didn't have to know what he'd done. He supported her with an arm around her waist, and he draped her arm behind his neck. "You were sleepwalking. Come on, can you walk?"

There was a distinct tingling in his eye, sometimes accompanied by a crackle of energy that felt like it popped and swirled behind his vision -- a vision that was steadily fading. The color of his right eye was swirling and changing subtly, now green now blue and orange-purple, but he had no way of knowing he looked any different. The vision in his right eye was blurring and growing darker, soon to be gone completely. He had thought it would be fine just to lose one eye -- he had another, he could afford it -- but he'd never counted on how terrifying it is to watch the world go dark, to lose something he'd been born with, even if it was only an eye. He had to concentrate on Sam.

August was quiet and rigid, and he walked slowly for her benefit, pointedly ignoring the fairy girl on the rock. With any luck, Sam wouldn't notice.

"You should go back and sleep," he said firmly, if only to distract her. "Not in Raquelle's tent. You'll stay where I can keep an eye on you. All right with that?" He never wanted her to leave his sight again.

"Sleepwalking?" Sam replied, her voice tired and confused. It took effort to think about it but she couldn't remember ever sleepwalking before in her life... But his explanations made sense. Dreaming and sleepwalking made sense, didn't they? And if they didn't she was not in the right state of mind to think about it or argue with him. So, for the moment, she believed him. "I guess I'm lucky a Jockal didn't eat me." Her lips flickered into a weak smile at her joke. "Try not to look so grim all of the time," Sam advised him as she closed her eyes for a moment. August asked if she could walk as he draped her arm over his neck and held her firmly around her middle. Sam looked down at her feet and regretted the action immediately. "I don't know," she admitted truthfully. "I could try?" She didn't want to but she would. For him.

At the corner of her eye she though she saw a tiny girl sitting on a boulder and watching them. But when her head turned she saw no one, and she wrote it off as a figment of her imagination. Eolande had darted off when the two mortals had started walking away. The fairy princess was going back to the fairy realm, but was careful to avoid her brother. No doubt he'd be furious with her.

August and Sam moved slowly, which she was grateful for. Her legs felt like lead and moved clumsily, and she leaned against him heavily, dependent on him to keep her upright and moving. "Sorry," she kept telling him, when she leaned on him too much or when she tripped on something, which was often. She wondered how far she had wandered and if she had the energy to make it all the way back without needing him to carry her.

At his words she looked over at him. It was too dark to notice the change in his right eye just yet, so she was smiling. "You want to watch over me?" Sam asked and she laughed a little, it was a tired sound, and leaned her head against his shoulder. "It's almost as though you like me... But yeah. It's fine. Sleeping sounds good, not going back to Raquelle's tent sounds good, and you keeping an eye on me...I guess that sounds good, too." Maybe it was because she was so weak and tired but him having his arm around her waist, and being pressed against him like this, it felt nice. Safe. Secure. She could stay with him like this for hours. "I might just fall asleep before we even get back. Would you hate me if I asked you to carry me? Walking's....walking is hard."

Her voice had gotten smaller and weaker with each word and she was silent for a while before she spoke to him again. Sam had leaned her head back to look up at him, her gray eyes tired but shining. "Thank you, August. For coming to get me. You're a good man. I think you're problem is that you've gotten a little bit lost. But you have a good heart somewhere in there." She gently prodded his chest with her hand before setting her head against his shoulder again.

Without a word, August leaned down and hooked his arm under her knees; he shifted her comfortably against him before moving on through the dark woods, one careful step at a time. They weren't moving much faster.

"Your flattery won't make up for the fact that you're heavier than you think you are," he griped with a small smirk, "and now I really can't see where I'm walking." He really, really couldn't see where he was going, and now his depth perception was gone as well. Sam was already in need of recovery without being dropped onto the rocks and branches as well.

Despite his concentration in keeping them both upright and out of the mud, Sam's words, her trusting touch, and her head on his shoulder weren't lost on him. The rigidity and anger that had for so long fueled his fight were increasingly impossible to maintain in her presence; he might even say he felt peaceful with her warm in his arms, as if everything really could be all right. His mind was clear and calm. But he couldn't afford to think this way -- not until the queen was gone.

He felt the prick of a blade at his back. "Keep moving, slimewad," Coralie's voice barked from behind them. "Hurt the girl and I dice your dick."

Alphonse and Florian emerged as well from the brush, looking worriedly up at Sam. "What've ya done to her?" Florian demanded.

August groaned, rolling his eyes, and he took a defiant step forward. "You're in the way," he growled.

Alphonse called, "Sam! Are you quite all right? What's happened?"

Sam's eyes were closed as her head rested against him, and she held to his shoulder as much as she was able to in order to ease some of the burden on his arms as he carried her. She still felt very weak though. She didn't really understand why if she had just been sleepwalking. This type of exhaustion was so much more than mere sleepiness. But it hurt her brain to think about it in this state.

She smiled at the jibe about her heaviness. "Don't be a baby. Plus flattery gets you everywhere. At least in my world it does. And...isn't it impolite to mention someone's weight? Tsk tsk, Marshal." He mentioned he couldn't see where he was going, and she peered up at him through half lidded eyes. "Is it too dark?"

Voices spoke, familiar ones, and Sam turned her head as much as she was able to see Coralie behind August with a blade held to his back, while Alphonse and Florian appeared, as well. If she hadn't been so unspeakably weak she would have shown more excitement and relief that the dwarves were alright and hadn't been killed by the Shades. All she could do was smile tiredly, which widened a bit at August's grown although she tried to hide it.

Alphonse addressed her, asking if she was alright and what had happened. She turned to look at him and smiled. "I'm fine," she said in an attempt to reassure them. "Really. He didn't do anything to me, Florian. Honestly. The Marshal's helping me, alright? I was sleepwalking, I think, and he came to get me before I ran into another Jockal or something. We're going back to the camp. To Prince Liam's camp. Where Dorothea is." Sam looked at the three of them, blinking her eyes as she struggled to remain conscious. She had to make sure the dwarves and August didn't kill one another. "Believe me. I'm alright. Just tired...so tired. Too tired to walk. Do you think you could lead us back to camp? Not that I'm uncomfortable or anything, but apparently I'm too heavy for him." She glanced up at August, teasing and smiling.

"Prince Liam's camp!" Alphonse cried in astonishment.

Florian groaned. "Oh, no."

"What do you mean, Prince Liam's camp?!" Coralie screeched in a panic.

August went rigid. "Why? What do you mean, oh no?" He set his jaw, and he watched as the dwarves quickly avoided his eyes. "What have you done!"

"Well, we saw you guarding it --"

"-- and we saw Miss Sam escaping --"

"-- and we figured it had to be the witch's camp --"

August snarled. "Answer me!"

Florian looked up in a teary-eyed panic, and blurted, "It's sort of on fire."

Indeed, they could begin to smell traces of smoke from here; the leaves of the trees closer to the encampment were flickering with the reflections of red and gold flames.

The Marshal hissed a string of obscenities under his breath, and with Sam locked against his chest he rushed toward the camp, over rocks and branches and bushes, while the dwarves stuttered and stammered and stumbled around him. He could hear the crackle of fire and smell the bitter musk of burning tents, and he knew this was his own fault. He'd left his post -- but he didn't regret it.

Inside the camp, Dorothea was bolting underfoot, stamping at flames with her tiny paws and helping the soldiers to pull the stakes so the tents could be ripped down and stamped out. Raquelle was screeching, standing just in the middle of a mass panic of men in their night-clothes, her skirts hugged tight to her frightened chest. "My clothes!" she cried. "Oh save my clothes! My pillows! No, you're getting soot on it -- I think I've been burned! Look at my hand! Oh help! My tent! Move faster, put it out, quickly, where's the water?" And she hopped frightfully across the camp while the panicked soldiers weren't paying attention, and she grabbed the best of the camp's water supply and dumped it on a small bit of flames at her feet.

Sam barely had time to register the fact that the dwarves had lit their camp on fire before August was suddenly moving forward, propelled forward by this new bit of motivation. She half expected to slip from his arms and fall, but his arms were like iron around her, and she wrapped her own around his neck to hold on her dear life. Her eyes were closed and her head was bowed and as they approached the smell of smoke became stronger, as did the sound of panic.

When she finally set eyes on the chaos, Sam could only stare for a long moment, eyes wide on her tired face. Half dressed men moved in an unorganized frenzy, attempting the stamp the flames out and salvage the supplies and tents. Where was Dorothea? And Liam? And Will? She spotted Raquelle shrieking in her gown, but the men look so similar to her in this state and Dorothea was so small... What if she got trampled? If Sam had the energy to yell she would have, but her voice was still weak. She could hear the sound of panicking horses, feel the heat from the fire, and she squirmed a little in his arms. "Put me down somewhere!" she whispered into his ear. "They need you more than I do right now."

Will finally appeared, dragging Liam from the blaze that had been their tent. The prince was in some sort of a panic, quivering and babbling and gazing around at the chaos. One might assume it was from the shock of the fire, but Will had a bit of grimness mixed in with the frantic expression on his face. He had pulled Liam to the side, away from the flames, before dashing into the camp again to start directing. He was usually quite easy going, but in the hectic situation he's face was stony and serious. He ordered a few men to take care of the horses. If they bolted they would be even worse off. The rest went back to saving what they could, although in a much more organized fashion now that someone was giving orders.

The prince's steward glanced over to see Raquelle a little ways away, holding a container that contained one of their most precious supplies. Then he saw the puddle at her feet. Will blanched and felt fury well up inside of him, though he didn't let it show. He marched purposefully over to her and snatched the container from the princess's hands. "THAT was our drinking water!" he said with anger rimming his tone. "And you've just wasted it! Stand back, Princess." It wasn't a suggestion, and Will was too mad to care about how he addressed her. "We'll save as many of your dresses as we can." He gave her a fake smile and turned away from her and her luxurious items. Maybe they could use some of her dresses to put the remaining flames out.

Now that there was organization to the men's movements, the chaos had died some. Will tasked a few of the men with taking inventory, and they hurried about, sorting through the destroyed and the salvageable. Some of the tents had been mostly saved, but others had been burned beyond repair. It looked as though much of the food and medicine had been saved, and the horses hadn't managed to flee. But clothes were ash, as were blankets and other supplies, and precious water had been wasted. They may not have lost everything but they had lost a lot.

At Sam's voice in his ear, August tightened his grip on her just for a moment -- but he relented, and he laid her down gently at the foot of a tree. He avoided looking at her face, so professional was he in the care of his charge. When he looked over to the dwarves, however, it was with a glare of hate and distrust. "Stay here and watch her," he growled, and he rushed into the fiery camp.

"You don't tell us what to do!" Coralie hollered after him, brandishing her dagger at his back -- but the Marshal had fallen into step under Will's orders and was immediately employed with putting out the flames. Coralie huffed, and she sat down by Sam's head. "Whatever's going on with you an' him," she muttered to Sam, "I don't like it." She frowned, and she patted Sam's head. "But go to sleep, you're safe as a lamb now I'm here."

Raquelle, meanwhile, looked after Will with a forced crooked smile, and she regretted not dumping that bottle of potion into his canteen. Oh, what fun it would have been to watch Will suffer, to render him helpless to her will. She remembered Liam, then, and she spun around in a panic before she spotted him; she sprinted to his side, nearly running over a few soldiers and the Marshal on her way. "Liam!" she cried, taking his hand. "Liam, what's wrong? What's that Samantha girl done to you? She's tried to kill you, I know it! Oh, Liam!"

Once the fire had all been put out and the remains of the camp were being gathered for inventory, Alphonse shuffled forward with his hat in his hands. He stepped quietly toward Will, who appeared to be in charge, and he cleared his throat. "Sir," his voice wavered, "I don't mean to interrupt, but I and my companions owe you and your men the deepest and sincerest of apologies. We are responsible for the fire at your camp. I assure you it was a terrible mistake, we had no idea you were soldiers of Eldonia and Itelia." He spoke quickly, bowing up and down in apology, and he wouldn't let Will get a word in edgewise; Alphonse simply couldn't bear to be yelled at. "Please accept our offer of shelter and supplies. The farmhouse at the end of the lane belongs to our good friend, there is plenty of room there for your company." He bowed again. "Please, we insist."

She knew that she had asked him to put her down, but even as he did it and she found herself resting against a tree Sam felt reluctant to let go. But she did as she watched him go off to help put out the flames. She blinked her eyes lazily as she looked at him as long as she was able, then she became aware of Coralie right beside her. Sam looked over at the dwarf woman and her smile flickered across her lips. She laughed, though the sound was quiet and tired and with the destruction happening all around them her heart wasn't very into it anyway. But she had to react to Coralie's words in some way. "There's nothing going on with August and me....the Marshal. I meant the Marshal and I...me..."

She was quiet for a moment, but it gave her a headache to think about it. "There's nothing," she repeated in the most serious tone she could muster, and then she leaned her head back against the tree and closed her eyes. Sam was vaguely aware of Coralie patting her head, but mostly all she could think about was how much comfier she was against this tree than she had been in Raquelle's tent. She must have been tired, and Sam quickly felt herself nodding off into the best sleep she had had in days.

Will was rubbing his eyes, feeling overwhelmed and exhausted, when he heard someone clear their throat. He opened his eyes and it took a moment for him to look down at the dwarf in front of him. He barely had time to blink in surprise or wonder where he had come from when the dwarf began to speak. He mentioned he had companions, an Will briefly glanced about, maybe making out two more dwarves in the vicinity but he wasn't able to make an effort to look closer before the one speaking admitted to starting the fire. Will looked back at him, more shocked and confused than angry at the moment, but he wasn't able to get a word in as the dwarf apologized and bowed and offered them shelter an supplies at the farm they had spotted hours earlier. Will wanted to be furious, wanted an explanation for why they had done this. Many supplies were lost, there were undoubtedly men injured, and Will wanted to demand to be given a reason for this. But maybe it was the dwarf's tone or expression that stopped him from yelling. Or maybe he was just too tired. Will just looked at the dwarf and let out a breath and nodded before turning around to give directions. The men began packing up what was still usable and gathering the horses, and Will spotted Liam where he had left him out of harm's way. Raquelle was with him, and he immediately moved forward.

Raquelle's clutching hand and simpering tone was all that Liam became aware of, and he wasn't able to keep a civil tone this time. Not in this state. "Let go of me, Raquelle!" he said furiously, looking about the campsite as though searching for her, and he pulled his hand out of her grasp. She had been blathering about Samantha and the girl trying to kill him. It made him want to laugh, but he didn't seem to be able to. He began speaking furiously about her blathering, dangerously close to throwing insults at her. He felt another hand on his arm and was about to yell at her again when he heard Will's voice. It calmed him a little, but he was shaking his head wildly when his friend tried to cooax him up onto his feet. "Will, no. No, Will, I can't..."

"Yes you can, sir."

"Will, I...I can't see. I'm blind."

Will grimaced, but tried to remained as stoic is possible. "I know, Liam," he responded softly.

Liam's tone was shaking in hysterics and fear and his sightless eyes gazed around the campsite. He looked vulnerable, like a mouse caught in a trap. "I'm blind...I can't see anything... I don't understand... What happened? Why can't I see?"

Raquelle pressed a hand to her mouth, but all her concern and worry were feigned. It didn't occur to her to be sorry -- it never crossed her mind to feel remorse or empathy for her love who was suffering. She had made this happen purposefully, knowing so certainly that it would lead to Sam's exile and her own loving marriage to Liam, so dependent he would be on her eyes and her guidance. The plan was flawless. Even as the prince roared at her, she knew this was only an initial anger that would pass. He would discover soon how important she would be to him. She reached out to him again. "Liam --"

Suddenly she was on the ground, screaming and thrashing while the black and white cat gouged her arms and chest with claws and teeth. "Stay away from him," Dorothea hissed like a cobra, her teeth flashing long and white. "I know you can understand me you putrid lump of useless filth."

"I'm bigger than you," Raquelle spat back, and she grabbed for the scruff of Dorothea's neck -- and immediately she screeched in pain, because Dorothea's teeth had sunk completely through the flesh between her thumb and forefinger. Raquelle screamed and sobbed, her hair flown in all directions and her dress crumpled and dust-caked and ripped, and she teetered on her knees and pried uselessly and tearfully at Dorothea's muzzle, but the cat's jaws were like a vice. "Let go, let go, let go, oh god let go."

Liam was now another casualty of the Marshal's loyalties. August watched as Raquelle suffered grotesquely under the cat-princess' fury, and blood trickled into the grass. He watched as Will supported Liam to his feet, blinded by Raquelle's greed. He surveyed the camp, burned to the ground, and the soldiers salvaging what was left of the rations. He saw Sam, asleep in the woods after having nearly been trapped forever in enslavement. All of it never would have happened if it weren't for him.

Everything he was trying to protect was falling apart. If all continued this way, there would be nothing left for him to protect. Sam had been right: he couldn't do this alone. August made a decision.

He carefully took hold of Liam's arm, to help Will in supporting and moving him. The Marshal's face was stoic and firm. "You should ask Raquelle that question." The blond princess was obviously a danger to everyone in the camp, and August could no longer justify risking all their lives for the sake of the Queen's trust. "I caught her coming out of your tent not two hours ago, with a vial of something liquid."

"You liar!" Raquelle screeched, having finally got her hand away from Dorothea's bloody mouth. "My mother will have your head!"

August stared at her coolly. "Tell your mother she'll have to find a new agent."

Raquelle's eyes were wide and wild, and she smeared blood on her dress, but she was quiet in shock.

August led Liam a bit of the way toward the farmhouse, then he came back for Sam, and he picked her up gently. They all needed to sleep first -- and then, in the morning, they would find out just how terribly he'd fucked up.

Will stared between the Marshal and Raquelle during their exchange, mouth slightly open as he tried to wrap his head around what the Marshal had told him, an what the two of them were saying. Raquelle had done this? He knew that she had been pursuing Liam for years, but this... Liam was blind now. Because of her. Was she really willing to go to such extreme levels for her crush? Will considered the princess for a moment as he held the still shaking Liam up. No one had rushed to the princess when the cat had attacked her and she had screamed and thrashed about, and now her gown was all but ruined and she had blood from her wounds. She should never have come. That was clear.

"Perhaps your attendants should take you back to Eldonia, Princess," he said in a cool, passive tone before securing Liam and gently urging him forward with the other men as they started towards the horse farm. It was eaier with the Marshal helping him, but for a short while he went back. For Samantha. Will paused momentarily to watch him go, his brow furrowed in thought. He had told Raquelle that her mother needed a new agent, and even if he wasn't too busy thinking for the company and for Liam he wouldn't have any idea what he had meant by that. One thing was for sure. The Marshal had a lot to explain to them.

After a short while the farmhouse came into view out of the darkness, and Will led Liam and the rest of the men towards the house. There was dim light in the windows and smoke emitting from the chimney, and Will took a breath as he rocked out his hand to knock on the door. He looked behind him to the rumpled looking men and then beside him to the blinded prince. He only hoped the owner of this farm would be as willing to help them as the dwarves had said he would be.

~~~

Sam stirred a little when she was picked up again. Her eyelids were heavy, but she managed to blink them open to gaze blearily up at August as he carried her. Her lips flickered into a small smile and she rest her head against his shoulder again, making a sleepy murmuring sound as she did so. "Hey. Did you get the fire out?" The smoke from the remnants of the destroyed filled her nose and she made a slight face at the unpleasant smell as her head rose once again to look around.

The camp was all but deserted and empty, except for the burned tents and supplies and Raquelle. She looked like...crap. Her dress was dirty and bloody and her hair was a disaster. It filled her with a slight sense of satisfaction, but she'd never tell anyone that. Besides all she really cared about at the moment was everyone else that had been at the camp. "Where is everyone? Will, Liam, and Dorothea? Are they okay? What happened?" She turned her head to look back up at August, and she seemed to realize for the first time that they were moving away from the burned campsite. "Where are we going?"

~~~

Raquelle would not need to tell her mother anything. Darius had been there, ever watchful in the trees. And he had seen everything. And if he saw it, Narissa saw it. She was wrenched from her bed that night, her heart pounding and her eyes wide and furious as the vision of Marshal Derrick declaring she needed to find herself a new agent flashed in her mind over and over again. She was out of the room and striding down the hall to her quarters in a heartbeat. She didn't bother covering her nightdress, she didn't have the time for such things. All that mattered was the Marshal.

She was slipping behind the secret door and striding through her archway into her hallow in no time at all. Her green eyes lit with a furious fir, she wrenched the drawer pen to pull her mirror out and she did not bother lowering her voice when she spoke. "Marshal!" she spat in a rage as she glared at the smooth surface. "August Derrick! You will speak to me! You will explain!"

Thus Raquelle was left behind, infuriated, nettled and bruised, shining with a passion of deranged fury. She had tricked herself into believing she loved Liam, where she only coveted him -- she wanted everything that had belonged to Dorothea. Dorothea's life was rightfully hers. But even as a cat, her older sister still would not yield it.

She waited until they were all out of earshot. "Desperate times," she hissed to her frightened servants, "call for desperate measures." With a dramatic swish of her tattered gown she stomped away, back to her ruined tent.

---

The door of the farmhouse opened, and an overalled torso stood before Will. The big man behind the door was taller than the doorway was high, so that only his red beard confirmed there was a head above the strong shoulders. After a moment he stooped down and blinked at Will with small brown eyes under shaggy red eyebrows.

"Hm." He looked between Will and Liam. He blinked again. Finally, he stepped aside and opened the door wider to allow them entry. The inside looked a bit bigger than the outside made it appear; there were huge chairs and a huge table and a big fireplace roaring cozily behind a bearskin rug. The aroma of fried bread and butter permeated the walls. A little hunting dog galloped toward them and sniffed Will's knees, wagging furiously.

---

August held Sam tightly, his expression stony. He had just opened his mouth to reply to her questions when a grating voice screeched from his pocket. He let out breath, sneered like he'd just bit into a lemon, and shifted Sam's weight so he could draw the mirror out of his pocket.

He held it up so Sam could see the queen's furious face. He glared passively into the glass, and he waited for the queen to be quiet before he spoke.

"If you're as powerful as you say you are," he growled, "you wouldn't need to start a war to take what you want. You wouldn't send your deranged daughter to burn the camp and blind the prince. This is chaos. You're a fraud. I won't lie any more -- I've only been biding my time til I'm close enough to stab you in your bony back, but I can't wait for that any longer. Pack your bags, my queen -- I'm turning this army around, and if you're not gone by the time we get back we'll drag you out. The king be damned." With that he threw the mirror against a stone and left it smashed in the road.

He shifted Sam again, rigid and quick in step as he followed the rest into the farmhouse. "I expect we'll have to fight when we get back to the castle, if not before," he told her under his breath. "Get some rest. I'll need you tomorrow."

When the door opened and all Will could see was a burly chest and a beard he couldn't help but swallow a bit nervously as he tried to peer up into the face of the large man. Then he was staring into the man's eyes when he stooped down. Will tried to appear calm, but with the men straggling along behind him and Liam leaning heavily against him and moaning softly he knew that he must have looked desperate. After a moment of silence in which he gazed intently at the man, Will finally spoke. "...Please," he said, managing to at least keep his voice mostly collected. "Sir, I know that this is...that it looks..." He was at a lost and after a brief pause he simply repeated, "Please."

The man finally stood b ack, allowing them entry, and relief washed through Will like a river. "Thank you," was all he could say, and he must have repeated himself at least a hundred times and he led Liam into the warmth of the farmhouse. He barely had time to notice the vastness of the interior, nor the scent of the food that made his stomach ache (soup n the road was fine enough, but not very filling). His primary concern was Liam for the moment, and he gently helped the prince into a chair in front of the fire. Liam himself didn't seem to be able to speak, still too panicked and shocked from his sudden blindness. He simply curled up onto the chair, almost appearing to shrink into a shell of his real self. Will made sure he was secure before whispering that he would be back in a few moments. Liam didn't respond.

Will pushed himself to his feet and moved over to their host. The small dog at his knees made him smile for the briefest of moments, but he could not get Liam, nor the Marshal's words to Raquelle, out of his head. He nodded respectfully and gratefully to the man when he approached him, though. "We were told we could find shelter here. I don't know how many of us can ever replay you for your kindness... My name is Will. The man in the armchair is Prince Liam. Of Itelia."

~~~~~

Sam watched as August spoke to the beautifully intimidating woman in the mirror he had had in his pocket. She didn't need to hear August address her as "my queen" to be able to know that this woman was Narissa herself. The woman who was the cause of all of this. But she could barely pay attention to her when she was listening to August was saying to her. Her gray eyes were fixed upon him, widening with every word he spoke, and she watched him essentially resign and tell the queen to go to hell. Then he threw the mirror, shattering it before the woman could get in a word, and it startled her slightly. But she wasn't able to look away from him as they started off again, and she nodded her head in understanding when he spoke to her.

"So...you basically just...quit your job?" Sam still felt shocked about this unexpected turn of events. The previous day he had been telling her how vital it was that he keep his cover with Narissa, but now she had just watched him purposely blow it. Something must have happened in these last few hours. Something big. Still...watching him basically tell the queen to go fuck herself had been so satisfying, and there were a smile flickering across her face as she looked at him. "I thought...you had this whole covert, lone wolf thing going on. You know, couldn't trust anyone, couldn't let the queen know you were working against her." Sam's head titled slightly as she studied him, and her tone became softer, more serious, when she spoke next. "What happened? What changed your mind?"

The giant from the doorway stared passively down at Will, his eyes small under the hood of his brow. Finally he nodded slowly, his head dipping lower into the scraggle of his beard, and then he straightened again and shuffled barefoot across the room to a pantry, where he set about slowly piling a plate with warm biscuits.

Minutes passed before he turned around again, and he handed the plate to Will, then shuffled again to the fire, where stew was bubbling on the hearth. He stirred the ladle, filled a bowl with careful dips, and handed that as well to Will, under the assumption that the food would be distributed.

The little dog yipped and snarled and hopped rigid. Dorothea spat a hiss, and the dog went streaking across the room and hid under the skirt of a chair.

It hurt to see Liam like this. The boy she had looked up to -- the boy who'd chased her up trees, stolen her sweets, raced her on horseback along the cliffside, who had pulled her up every time she had fallen -- the boy she loved, knew she loved, was in so much pain and despair she felt it like daggers in her chest.

She didn't purr. She didn't rub against him. She wasn't a cat: she was a princess. She was his love. Dorothea hopped up on the arm of the chair, nuzzled his face, and with slightly extended claws she stroked his hair, just the way she'd done whenever he came to her with his troubles. She imagined his head in her lap and her arm around him, and she would have hummed a song if she thought it would sound like a song.

There was a cure to his affliction, and Dorothea would obtain it, no matter the price.

---

For awhile August didn't answer. His eyes were stony and locked on a candle burning in the window of the farmhouse, and the only sound was the crunch of leaves under his feet. The vision was swirling in one eye. He concentrated to keep his course and his balance. He purposely shielded his thoughts from what was happening: he couldn't afford to let emotion affect his judgment. But maybe it was too late for that.

"My purpose is to protect," the Marshal responded in a careful voice. "It's become clear that I've only been doing the opposite. I saw Raquelle poison Liam and I did nothing. I sowed enough distrust in the dwarves that they would burn men in their sleep. I killed my own men, I lied to my king, I destroyed the princess. I would have begun a war between sister kingdoms. You were nearly dead tonight because I was preoccupied with maintaining my lies.You're only here because I brought you here. You and everyone else is only in pain because of me." He said all this flatly, his voice like a stone. "And I will continue to lie and double-cross and keep my secrets for what I think is the greater good, and you shouldn't trust me as well as you do. Don't argue." He knew Sam would try to talk him out of these dark thoughts, and he would have none of it.

The door of the farmhouse was open, and he slipped inside and kept along the wall so he wouldn't be noticed; he'd seen the questions in Will's eyes, but all he wanted was to find a bed or a couch to lay Sam on, where she could sleep safely.

Liam was very still in the armchair, slumping in a defeated, undignified sort of way, until he felt a touch. He assumed in the first instant that it was Will again, but when he felt the nuzzling against his face he twitched. His brown eyes opened, not that it made any difference at all, but they had gone wide. This was familiar to him. He had felt this sort of touch before, this sort of comforting affection, from one person. The familiarity only increased as he felt his hair being stroked, and Liam took a very shaky breath. He could feel himself trembling slightly and was trying to swallow back a moan. And when he did make a sound he uttered the first work he had spoken since entering this farmhouse.

"...Dorothea..."

Will had started helping the man distribute food to the cold looking men milling about. They all looked ragged and still in sleepwear and they all accepted the bowls and the biscuits like they were at a banquet. Will felt himself still murmuring thank yous to the big man and forced himself to shut up. Once all of the bowls were passed around Will took one, but rather than eat the stew himself he went back over to Liam. Samantha's cat was with him and the prince's head had rose and his sightless eyes were open. "My lord, you have to eat..."

"Dorothea."

Will looked up, startled. "...What?"

"Dorothea is here, Will. I felt her..."

"Liam," Will began slowly, biting his lip in concern, "It's just the cat. Miss Shea's cat..."

Liam reached up and felt around until his fingers touched the cat and his brows furrowed as they stroked the fur. "She...she was here. Her fingers...through my hair...like she always did..."

~~~~~

Sam watched his face as he spoke, seeing the stone in his expressed and hearing the steel in his voice. This was the Marshal talking now. His words were cold, giving her a chill and forcing her to suppress a shiver. But they also made her more than a little bit...angry. She was too tired to be angry but she felt it all the same. She suddenly wanted out of his arms, feeling disgusted that earlier she had actually asked him to carry her (even though she knew she hadn't been able to walk after her little adventure). Speaking of her adventure he had told her that she had been sleepwalking, but just now he had told her that nearly died. And Liam had been poisoned? But he was still going to...lie. Like he had been doing. He was just going to carry on and apparently not trust her, even though earlier that day he had confided to her that she was the only person he could trust. Well...not any more it seemed. He seemed to be pushing her away.

It hurt. More than she cared to admit. Sam had started trusting him that day. Or maybe she had started trusting him the previous night. Despite everything he had done. She had believed in what he had told her during their private conversations. Maybe she had been too quick to forget. Maybe...she had misjudged their relationship.

He had told her not to argue. But she was so, so bad at following orders from idiots. "Here he is," Sam heard herself say, sarcasm in her tone. "Marshal August Derrick. Admitting that his lies and actions have caused the pain and suffering of so many people. And yet...he's going to continue the lying and the secret keeping. Because it's obviously worked out so well so far. And he's shoving away the one person who he's admitted he can trust. Flawless plan. But you know what? Fine. Whatever. Do what you want, Marshal." She said the title with a hint of contempt. "But I won't help you lie." She went quiet for a moment, looking at the lights in the windows of the farmhouse they were fast approaching, then she turned back to him. "You told me the other night that my judgement is worth more than an army. Well, just in case it wasn't clear, I'm judging you. Really, really hard."

Her speech and her anger at him had drained her of the energy her little nap had given her, and the warmth of the farmhouse covered her like a blanket. There was a fire, comfy chairs, the smell of food, and maybe even something that resembled a bathtub. But for right now she just wanted to lay down on something soft and sleep for hours. She took a glance around the room and spotted Will crouching in front of an almost unrecognizable Liam, and Dorothea hovering close by. She felt like it had been eons since she had last spoken to her, but Sam knew that if Liam was hurt then Dorothea wouldn't leave him. There was always tomorrow. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. "Put me anywhere flat, I don't care," she told the Marshal in a passive tone. She didn't want him to know that his words were still hurting her. She didn't want to admit it herself.

Dorothea was unphased. She was beyond girly emotion, now that the worst had reared its ugly head. There was much to be done, queens to conquer, sight and a human body to be restored, a kingdom to be rescued. Sam had taught her to believe.

She smoothly stepped out from under Liam's hand, and she pressed his palm down with a paw. She knew he couldn't see her, and he couldn't understand her with his ears, but she could rely on his touch.

She remembered a game they used to play as kids, when they wanted to communicate without the grown-ups knowing.

Little Dorothea sat in the middle of the parlor floor with Liam. Leaves still clung to her dress and her hair was a wreck, but she was grinning even after being scolded. "Next time we won't get caught, because we'll have a secret code." She held up one finger, showing it to Liam. "One means stay quiet. If I show you one finger, don't answer anybody's questions or we'll be in trouble, right? Same goes for me. One is silence. Two," she produced a second finger, "is run. Go hide in your room, or somewhere nobody will find you until the coast is clear. And three --"

Dorothea, struggling a bit with her paws, pushed Liam's thumb and little finger under his palm and held them there. Three fingers.

"Three means come find me."

She stood on Liam's hand and looked up at Will with composed determination. She would be understood.

---

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you," August said flatly, completely shut off by her accusations. He pointedly ignored her at the expense of what she might think of him, and he put all his focus on finding a place where the soldiers wouldn't bother her.

Finally, after some maneuvering through Liam's concerned men, he pushed open the door to a small room in the back, where there was a small bed among stacks of books. He laid Sam down here, pulled off her shoes wordlessly, and shoved a pillow under her head. His expression was still cold and closed -- he wasn't sure what he was going to do, but he'd have to do it soon. The queen was livid and likely to do something drastic.

When he'd pulled the blankets over her, he looked solemnly into her face. "I admit I need help. We're in this together -- you, and me, and the princess and Prince Liam. I'll alert them to the danger, and I'll do what it takes to keep everyone safe, and you will rest." He didn't give her a chance to respond before he backed out of the room, leaving the door cracked for light.