Lyra's POV

Kaladin looks surprisingly convincing in a Guard's uniform, and he even stands formally: spine straight, head high, eyes alert and face emotionless. He is rather handsome, as well, with his hair groomed back neatly and sporting a cleanly shaven jaw. I briefly wonder where he learned this particular facade, but I quickly decide that I really do not wish to know.

The mercenary? Lance asks me as the doorway becomes occupied, his every muscle tense. He had been standing a few feet away, watching me shoot like the other men in the room, and now takes several steps closer to me. Apparently he thought the man I told him about would be someone else, because he certainly did not expect this.

You promised. I remind my brother, glancing towards him and lowering the bow and arrow in my grasp. The smoothly carved wood is familiar in my hand, and I am once again reminded of Jed, who had brought it back for me.

Lance is as taut as a bow string, and a muscle in his folded arms jumps with tension. I did, but, Lyra, if he tries anything- His brown, calculating gaze never leaves Kaladin, who now looks up to meet his eyes.

Kaladin's cerulean orbs hold his a moment, as if to test the strength of my brother's promise to me. He silently dares Lance to expose him, to cross me and test my authority.

Lance looks away from the both of us, down at the marble floor. I don't miss the way his jaw matches his fists, and clenches. Damn it, Lyra.

I assure you, he won't do anything. I promise, praying that my words will stay true. Kaladin had better not have any ulterior motives to his desire to protect me, I hate to think about what might happen to him otherwise. I hope that he understands exactly what he signed up for, here. I am surrounded by men who love me, and who would torture him in the most unimaginable ways if he caused me any harm.

I am still in the training hall with Lance, Darion, Sebastian and the other Guardsmen, when Kaladin and Hener are brought in as today's victors. I try not to pay any particular attention to Kaladin, and direct my focus on Hener. I do not have to force a smile when I see him.

His golden locks are pulled away from his face, similarly to his brothers, and he grins at me. He puffs out his chest beneath his leather vest, much like a peacock. He's worked very hard for this position, and I can see reason for him to be proud. I am proud of him, too. I smile widely in return to his toothy expression, and motion him over with my free hand.

Kaladin keeps his gait at a calm walk, following slightly behind Camisêal as he tries to reach Hener, giving the previous knight a cross look as he comes to me, far too quickly. Camisêal reaches out and grabs Hener by the collar before he is out of reach, pulling him back.

"You never rush at the princess in that manner. I care not how exited you may be, nor how familiar you are with her. If that is seen in public, especially by the king-" His voice is hard and he leaves his warning open ended.

The truth is, that no one wants to know what would happen to that Guard, and I now feel foolish for encouraging him. He hadn't been running, or even jogging, but anything more than a slow walk when facing royalty is disrespectful. When Hana ran to me at the ball, he was permitted to, because I was not well. If I had been healthy and still standing, he would not have done so.

"Sir." Hener nods, sobering. "Forgive me, my lady."

Cam's face shows wear from his activities today, with haggard markings evident on his features. He's probably sparred with half of the village men trying to earn a spot on the Guard, yet he keeps up his posture and demeanor clean. He has to put on a good influence with the new Guards, so they do not learn any bad habits.

"He is alright, Cam." I say, raising a hand. "He means no harm. Come, Hener, let me congratulate you."

Hener takes the few paces left between us much more slowly now, trying to mask his exited smile with a professional glaze. He bows deeply, a fist customarily pressed into his opposite shoulder. "My lady."

I motion for him to rise, and meet him with a one armed, brotherly embrace. He returns it, giving my shoulders a firm squeeze. "Aren't you a sight?" I laugh, pulling away. "Wait until your brother sees you. He will be very proud."

Hener's bright blue eyes shine, as if my confidence in Hana's return has given him hope, as well. "Thank you, my lady." He says, smiling.

I return it, patting his back. "Well, now. Camisêal is an honorable man, and he will teach you all there is to know about being a Guardsmen. He has served me faithfully for eight years." I shift my gaze to Cam, who has now made it to stand behind Hener. I keep my eyes from meeting Kaladin's, even though I feel them burning into me.

"And you, sir," I address the seasoned Guard with a slightly harsher tone, making his spine straighten.

"Yes, My lady?" Camisêal questions, dipping his head as if he is afraid that he has angered me somehow.

I smile, and let my voice take on a playful note, as it had with Hener. "Are to take the rest of the day off and relax, go be with your family. I will have a hand written excuse delivered to my father for your dismissal. Jasla and Nikiel will look after the new recruits and handle them in your stead."

Camisêal looks up at me, cognac eyes creased with exhaustion. "My lady, will that be necessary? What if something were to happen, while I am away? I could not bear it if something were to happen to you."

I sigh, take a step to him, and clasp him on the shoulder. "Go, Cam. You need the rest. And besides, you would have to be moronic to attack me here, with all of these armed men present. Not to mention," I add, holding up my bow and raising my eyebrows. "That I am armed, as well. Do not make me order you, man."

He gives a small smile, as he breaks his hold. "Yes, my lady, as you wish," His smile falters and worry shines in his eyes as he continues. "Please, do call me back if you require my assistance. I will never be far off."

I know that Camisêal lives only a mile away, and that the castle is still well within view of his home. I take my hand back from his arm and shoo him away. "I promise, I will call on you if I need you. Now, go on, go home!"

He smiles and bows. "Yes, princess."

We all turn to watch as he walks out, casting a wary glance behind him before he exits the hall.

Camisêal is very reluctant to leave, and I try to ignore the tense feeling in my stomach, as well. I believe that Sebastian is the reason for all of our uneasiness. Well, save for Lance's distress, that is thanks to Kaladin, who now steps forward to bow before me in greeting.

He takes my hand and kisses the back of it gently, not holding it for nearly as long as Sebastian had. I feel no awkwardness at his unusually soft touch, to my surprise. "My lady, it is an honor to be in your service. Use me however you will, princess, I will follow you to the ends of this world, and on to the next."

I find myself slightly taken back by his meaningful pledge, and pull my hand from his. "Thank you. What shall I call you?" I ask as he straightens.

I don't miss the glance that Lance gives me, at the asking of his name. He knows that I am aware of what Kladin's name is, but he doesn't, and neither do any of the men inside of this room. They do not know that I know Kaladin's name, so I asked it to avoid suspicion. It is not often that a princess knows a Guard so well before he is on her Guard, and I wouldn't want anyone to believe that I favor him over anyone else. I love -almost all- of my men equally. Sebastian is another story that I cannot understand.

Kaladin gives me a secret look, one that glints in his clear eyes that is only meant for me, but I cannot decode its meaning. "My name is Lucanus Lional Saint Wolfstan, your excellency." His lips twitch at my expression. "But, if it pleases you, you may call me Luke or Lucan."

I nearly stutter, not expecting this as a reply, but I manage to compose myself. Apparently, it would seem that Kaladin truly is of noble blood, as the name Wolfstan sounds quite familiar.

I believe that my father has done trade with the family's country, or something similar. Perhaps they purchased a few Vann Hest and asked for breeding rights, which the king has never given. Our animals are of the purest blood, and the secret to the breeding lines has never been voiced, and never will be. It has been a while, since I've heard the name used in court.

I can't help but find the name rather fitting for the dark haired man before me, though the Saint bit is rather comical. So, Kaladin was always a nickname to avoid the use of his birth name. It makes sense, really, because if he truly did kill his uncle, he would not wish anyone who knew about that incident to recognize his name. And, being a mercenary, you would not wish anyone to know your true name. All in all, changing his name was very smart.

"Lucan it is then. Allow me to introduce a few of my other Guardsmen," Kaladin seems pleased that I have managed to keep my face about me, and turns in step with me as I gesture to each man in the room. "You've already met Camisêal, currently the highest ranking of the Guard."

I start with the men who stand by the entrance of the room, and they each nod as I introduce them. "This is Jasla and Nikeil," I turn, and Kaladin follows my movement. "Merlin and Mashkil. As for the new recruits, allow me to introduce Darion, Sebastian, Hener, and, of course, you, Saint Wolfstan."

Kaldin's face has taken on a note of interest as he acknowledges the men in the room, and I believe it to be genuine. He has to find out which Guards he should and shouldn't trust. "Forgive my trespassing, but where is the Captain of the Guard, my lady?" As he speaks, he turns his face back to me, expression innocent, even though I know that he already knows Hana's predicament.

I explained it to him only just this morning, when I found him in my bed chambers, yet again, and I am well aware that he does not forget things easily. It crosses my mind that he may have asked the question because that is what an observant Guardsmen would notice about the thinness of my line of defense. The Captain of the Guard is the most important role to play in the game of every Guard, and the fact that mine is absent should raise a question.

I try not to feel the stab of the absence of Hana as I speak, but the pain is far worse than the throbbing of my left hand. "Hener's brother will be returning to us in a few days, along with two other Guardsmen." I say, my voice solid and defining for the men around me. I felt their question, as well when Kaladin spoke, and now I feel their reassurance at my reply.

He nods, face impassive. "Very good, ma'am. I pray that he has a safe return journey."

I never took Kal for the praying type. "You and I both, Lucan." I heave a breath of air and briefly close my eyes to regain myself, waiting for the hurt to lessen. When I open them again, I reach behind me to grab another arrow from the quiver that is strapped to my back.

Darion had been standing to my right, at one of the two targets that we set up against the wall of the training hall. The handsome young Guardsmen notches another arrow as well, looking over at me expectantly. "Are you well, my lady? Do you wish to continue?"

I look towards my hay target, observing my previous shots. Three arrows jut out from the very middle of the circle, and two are peeking out too near to the left to be centered. Lance had only grunted when I made those shots, and I ignored his impassive noises.

Darion's targets look similar to mine, only with three off center, and two in the middle. He hadn't been lying when he said he was a decent shot.

I flex my stinging knuckles and nod. "If you please, Darion." I take aim, and exhale through my nose. I release the bow string and the arrow sails through the hushed room, and hits the target off center again. Lance doesn't say anything this time, but I curse softly as the men in the room clap.

"I think- if I may be so bold, my lady-" Kaladin starts, clearing his throat to cease the cheers. "You would preform with more accuracy, if you weren't bleeding. I fear that it may be a hindrance."

"She is bleeding?" Lance immediately moves to my side, and takes my wrapped hand in his, holding it up to examine. A single drop of blood slips off of the crimson flecked bandage and onto the floor.

My knuckles sting at my brother's contact, and I flinch slightly. "It's nothing, the bandages just need changed."

"You've split them open, Lyra. They will never heal if you keep breaking the wounds. You need a day to rest." Lance says, letting me go with a sigh. "I think you should retire for the day."

I notch another arrow in defiance. "I will retire when I see fit, brother." I have gone eighteen years of dealing with people telling me what to do, and I don't need it from Lance, too, especially in my own home. Of course, I respect his decisions, but I do not have to accept and do as he says, nor will I.

His brown eyes lock onto mine. I am not challenging you, Lyra.

Aren't you? You are trying to give me orders in my own court.

He shakes his head and steps away from me reluctantly, hands raised in surrender, lowering his gaze. Child...

I lift my chin and turn to Darion, his usually happy face creased with concern. "My lady..."

"Take your shot, Sir." I say, watching him with a defining look. I am perfectly fine, and I will not accept a bunch of men worrying over and ordering me around.

I am concerned for your health, Lyra. It is unhealthy for you to handle your grief this way. You will end up run into the ground. I hear the concern palpable in his voice, but I stand firm and ignore Lance's thoughts, returning my attention to my target. Apparently he recalls our conversation this morning about my night terrors concerning Jensen and Hana.

Darion dips his head in a nod, and takes his shot. Now I can see that he is no longer trying to be a good marksman, silently telling me that he does not wish to continue this. His arrow embeds itself at the outside ring of his target, and he doesn't look at me.

I sigh, take my arrow from my bow string, and lay it back into its quiver. A line of scarlet drips down my arm unevenly, and I wipe it away in annoyance. "Very well, then. We will call it for today." As I turn, I catch Kaladin's blue gaze. I hold it, challenging him to say something to me as Lance had. He holds for a moment, before he steps back and gives a sweeping bow without a word.

Darion dips his head in respect at my decision, and offers to take my weapons from me, holding out his hands.

"I've got it, thank you, Darion." I say, and stride over to my target to retrieve my arrows. My knuckles burn and I have the urge to scratch them as I yank the heads from the hay one by one. I feel the eyes of Lance and Kaladin on me with their intensity, and I ignore Lance's tug at my mind again, instead throwing up a wall against it. I do not wish to hear any more of his worries about me today.

I lean one arm against the target and close my eyes, breathing deeply. Memories of Jensen flash past my lids, and I dig my nails into the hay, willing them away. It is bad enough that I dream about it, but now seeing it during the day, as well? I clench my aching hand into a tight fist, feeling another ribbon of blood drip down my knuckles.

"Lyra." The familiar voice is soothing and gentle. Of course it would be, he knows how to handle me when I am like this; he has seen it multiple times before, though I've never before witnessed such a violent death.

I shake my head and open my eyes, straightening, and I unclench my fist. When I glance down, there are several crimson drops on the white marble floor.

"Please," Lance says, holding out a hand. "At least allow me to put your weapons away." His mahogany eyes plead with mine.

I know he only wants to help. I slip the quiver over my shoulder and pass it over to him, but keep my bow in hand. "I will keep this. It belongs in my chambers."

Lance gives a questioning glance, then remembers that Jed had given it to me, and leaves me to put the equipment away.

I close my eyes again briefly, and compose one of many prayers for Sam, Jed and Hana in my head. God, please watch out for them, and help them on their way home. Please heal those who are ill and bless their path. Amen.

I hear Lance come back, and feel his presence as he stands close to me. He gently touches my shoulder, and I turn to look at him with misty eyes that betray me.

I nod at him to assure myself, and blink a few times to clear my vision. "Well now. We have some business to attend to, correct? Let us do that, and then I will allow my wounds to be tended to." I look at the men in the room, deciding who should stay with Sebastian, because I certainly do not want him around when I ask the king about him. "Luke, Merlin and Mashkíl, come with me. Jasla and Nikeil, keep Sebastian and Darion busy with training. Hener," He stands at attention and looks at me expectantly. My eyes soften slightly at him, and my voice follows suit. "Stay here with Jasla. He will teach you some things."

He bows respectfully, only slightly disappointed. "Yes, my lady."

I harden myself again and cast my eyes around the hall, daring any one to question why I've selected Kaladin, the new man, to accompany me. No one meets my gaze except for Sebastian, as they are all bent in respect at my decision and bad mood. I think I catch him sneer as he bows, and am tempted to march over to him and hit him in the mouth.

"Men, come." I bark, as I tear my eyes from the short, hunched figure, unable to ignore the painful twist in my gut. There is something very wrong with that man, and I need him to be removed as soon as possible.

-

Jed's POV

I join Titus at the mouth of cave, and take in the interior of the unique rock formation. It is very dark and bare, save for the occupants inside. I step further in, trying to make myself seem non-threatening.

A tall, muscular man stands blinking in the dimming light of the day, which I assume is blinding to him from being kept in the darkness for so long a time. He holds up a hand to shield his eyes as he tries to look at me standing in the entrance. He has a wise face for his age that is smeared with dirt and old blood, and matted blond hair that is loosely pulled back, strands of the oily locks falling into his face. As far as I can tell, the only injuries that are still actively bleeding are the deep cuts on his bare arms.

He, and a second man who is hunched over coughing, have been stripped of their belongings and any warm furs or armor they may have had. The man in front of me has a sword in his grasp, and has nothing but his boots, a thin tunic, and his breeches on his person.

I move away from the tunnel of light so he can see me better, while Titus stays half in and half out to keep an eye for any captors in search for their comrade. "I'm Jedediah, this is Titus. We've come with Prince Sam on Lyra's behalf."

"I am Hana, the Captain of my lady Lyra's Guard." He says in a gruff, parched sounding voice. He looks wary of me, but seems to remember something more important than the stranger in front of him. "Castiel," He points to the side, to the heavily shaded half of the cave with the tip of the sword that he seems to have forgotten. "He is not well." He stumbles forward in attempts to go to him, but I step forward and hold an arm out to stay him.

"I will get him, you aren't well." I say, as I make my way to a figure that lays slumped on the ground. I see no blood, which is a good thing, but he lays inert against the rough, jagged stone wall. I see that he is in his thirties, and has short cropped hair, but cannot make out much else. I crouch and begin to lift him, surprised at the heaviness that strains my arms. He is a decent sized man, but he must have more weight than I anticipated by appearances.

"Titus," I call, voice thick with effort. I have Castiel half way to his limp feet, and hoist his weight onto my shoulder, holding to his arm that drapes across the back of my neck. "Help me."

The young man pops his head into the cave, squinting into the darkness. He finds me, struggling in the corner, and glances back outside before slinging his bow over his torso and coming to my aid. "We should make haste."

I nod in agreement, as Titus shoulders half of the dead weight. "I agree. Hana, are you well enough to aid your fellow Guardsmen? There is a steep slope we must climb up to reach our mounts."

He stoops with a pain filled grunt, to take a sheath from the dead man's waist, and proceeds to tie it to his own. "Yes, I will try." He slips the sword into it's place, and goes to the second man, who is now half upright, but still breathing laboriously.

"Captain," He breathes as Hana crouches to his level, a hand placed below his chest.

"Come, Michael, let us go home. Our lady awaits, and so does your family." Hana's voice seems to sooth the man, and he nods. The Captain allows Michael to lean on him, but I notice that he keeps some weight on his left leg. He must be aware of his superior's condition, and tries not to burden him with his illness.

As soon as the light of the dreary day shines upon our faces, Titus and I glance at the surroundings to be certain that no one is waiting to ambush us. "Up that way." I address the two men in front of us, nodding towards the incline to the right. "Make haste, men."

I glance behind us again warily, and turn to Titus. "Hoist him onto my back so that you may Guard us from behind."

He does as he is told, and I bend my knees to make it easier for him to push Castiel onto my back. The weight on my shoulders increases, and the arms of the man fall in front of me as I grab his legs from behind. "Good man," I grunt, and start for the hill. I have no idea how I will manage this, but I know that I have to.

With Lyra's face in mind, I start the climb, using the trunks of trees as foot holds to keep from slipping on the wet leaves and back to flat ground. I hear Titus close behind, and we gradually make our way to the top with painstakingly slow strides.

More than once I slip, but Titus catches and pushes me back to me feet. Hana and the other man reach the top, and Sam comes part way down to take Hana's burden, shouldering the ill man. He turns his head to look back at me before continuing.

When we finally reach the top, my every muscle cries out to rest. Sam sends Thomas down to aid me, and he wordlessly lifts Castiel from my back and onto his with surprising ease. As soon as the weight is gone, my legs seem to liquefy and I collapse before I reach the top of the small mountain. Titus catches me by the arm, and helps me back up again. Together, we make it to the top, and Titus and Sam practically have to pull me over the edge.

I sit on my knees for a moment, panting, and wipe the many drops of sweat from my face that have formed despite the cool day. While I rest, I look up to better see the men who we've rescued.

Hana is facing his companions, his face a mask of pain, yet he manages a tight smile at his friend. He and Michael are kneeling next to Castiel, who has been laid on the muddy ground, his head propped under one of our wet garments. The Captain's roaming eyes find mine, and he gives a grateful nod, which I return.

Enoch, the Guard that was left with the mounts, had brought them over one by one, and my gelding is just being led through the trees.

I force myself to stand, and I make my way slowly to him. As soon as his reins are dropped, Hamais trots over to me, and I lean on him, looking over his back as the last horse is brought to us.

Hana will be placed on one of the extra mounts, and Michael will be on one, as well. The third horse we brought with is not going to be ridden, as Castiel is not conscious to stay in a saddle. Instead, the chestnut mare is carrying all of our supplies, and does so without complaint. She has a good temperament, and is a gentle sort. She would make a good riding companion for a child.

The Vann Hest is being restrained by Enoch, and tosses his head, trying to bite at the slightly older, solid man who holds his reins.

"Castiel can ride with me on Hamais," I say to Sam as he walks by, on his way to his beast. Next to his Vann Hest, my gelding is the strongest and less likely to be hindered by the extra weight. And, Hamais won't try to eat his passenger.

He stops to look at me, and nods. "Alright. Titus, take the bags from the gelding's back, and get some rope."

"Sir." The young Guard says, and goes to do as he is told. When he reruns, I aid him with untying the saddle bags.

"Thank you, Titus." I say over Hamais' tall back.

The young man smiles, and shakes his head. "You do not need to thank me, Jedediah."

I swing my head tiredly and give a small smile, too exhausted from my climb to say much else. Titus takes the bags and walks them over to the bay mare for me, strapping them to her well rounded belly, along with the other supplies.

"Alright," Sam says, voice commanding. "Let's go. Time is of the essence." His intense green gaze finds mine as he swings onto the back of the white beast, who dances in the mud and chews his bit with pinned ears.

Hana claps Michael on the shoulder, and they help each other from the ground and to their mounts.

Enoch and Titus lift Castiel together, and I walk Hamais to them, feeling my strength begin to return slowly. I slip my foot into the stirrup and exhale as I throw myself into my saddle after Castiel is situated. I keep one hand on the reins and one on his back hold him up from where he lay across Hamais' withers, and shift in the saddle to get used to riding this way, awkward as it is.

We kick our mounts into a canter and move on.

The inert man who rides in front of me moves with the motion of Hamais' strides, swaying back and forth with limp arms. We used the rope to tie him to myself and around Hamais, so that he won't flop over the side and to the ground. Hana keeps a hand at his ribs as he rides next to me, keeping a close eye on his fellow Guardsmen. Michael stays next to us, as well, and the way that his head lowers to his chest makes me concerned for his health.

Hana tries to keep his posture normal, but I see him wince from the corner of my eye. He is in pain, and has several bleeding gashes on his arms, with an older split along his lip. He is in better condition than his companions, but he is still unwell.

Night falls quickly, accompanied by more threatening storm clouds that block the moon from view. This time, there is no overhangs or shelter in sight, so we keep moving at the fastest pace we can manage without harming the horses. In truth, we shouldn't be doing more than a trot in the sucking mud, but Castiel's condition is urgent and we have agreed to keep moving as long as we can. There are trees to either side of us, but the thinning autumn leaves would provide little cover from the possible rain.

Despite the sprinkles that begin to splat onto our skin, I find myself smiling through the other men's cursing. We've gotten Lyra's men back, alive and breathing, and we are now on our way back to her. With the image of Lyra's face in mind, I push on through the sleepless night. We will make it home.

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Authors Note

I am so sorry that this took so long to update for you guys, please forgive me! I tried to make it up to you with a somewhat edited, very long chapter. I'm not going to make any promises as to when the next chapter will be released, so please don't hold your breath. I know you want updates quickly, but I am the slowest writer ever when it comes to finishing a chapter. I'm very sorry for your long and grueling wait! I am so unfair you you guys.

Hope you enjoy, and as always, thanks to every one of you for reading and putting up with mistakes and long waits! Runaway Princess has surprised me with how many reads, votes and comments it's received, and it's thanks to you, yes you, reading this. So, thank you sincerely!

Love you all, and thanks to the critics who direct me to things that need fixing. As you've seen, grammar and spelling is not my niche!

I'm not sure if I mentioned it before, but I've posted the fully revised and edit Chapter One of Runaway Princess. I'm finally getting somewhere! Ugh, editing is the bane of the existence of this writer.

Well, thanks again to all of you, ad God bless all of your little hearts!

Sincerely yours,

-A.