When Mirabel awoke, it was to a gentle rocking sensation and the feeling of strong arms holding her close. Her head was nestled against a broad chest, rising and falling with each breath. She didn't open her eyes at first; she woke slowly, one sense coming to life at a time. Soon she could hear the soft crunch of footsteps on the ground below, and the steady thudding of a heartbeat pressed close to her. Still groggy, her mind began to fit these pieces of information together, and that was when her eyes finally flew open.

Where was she? Who was holding her? For the briefest moment, a name crossed her mind, but she quickly shook it away. That wasn't possible.

She shifted her head, lifting herself away from the man's chest. The first thing she saw was a dark, scruffy beard leading down to a thick neck and her brow furrowed in confusion; who-?

The puzzle pieces flew together and instantly she began to struggle in the once comforting arms. How had he found her? She was so sure she had lost him in the forest - she had practically lost herself.

At the sudden movement, Boris's hold on her loosened. He quickly shifted his grip, catching her before she fell. Then he gently set her on the ground, Mirabel still struggling against him.

"Whoa there, princess," he said, bending to look her in the eye. He was much taller than her. "It's about time you woke up." A small smile played behind his beard. He kept a hand on her shoulder, the only thing keeping her from bolting. Even so, she took a small step back.

The smile fell. "Right," he said, straightening. "You don't trust me. And rightfully so, but sweetheart, you need my help."

Mirabel raised an eyebrow. Why would she need help from her kidnapper? What she needed was to get away from him.

He sighed, and took his hand off her shoulder, holding both up in a gesture of surrender. Surprised, she took another step back, but stayed where she was. Her eyes narrowed. What was the catch?

"Look, princess, you can try going it alone out there. But the fact is you don't have supplies or any idea where you are. And that puts you at a serious disadvantage to all those soldiers out there looking for you." He swung out his arm, gesturing around. At the confusion on her face, he continued. "You didn't think your little escape would go unnoticed, did you? By this point you've been missing for several hours. Someone's bound to have noticed, and that someone will have told the queen. Every man she can spare will be out looking for you. So either you can try to trust me, or you can get your pretty little self dragged right back to whatever hole you escaped from once the guards catch up to you."

Mirabel went still as that sunk in. The vehemence with which he delivered his little speech had caught her off guard, as had his words. She hadn't really given much thought to the queen sending out her guards to look for her. She had been too focused on her escape for that to matter.

She studied Boris's face for a moment. He was still looking at her expectantly, as if waiting for an answer - an answer she could hardly give. She didn't trust him. Was it even possible to trust the man who helped tie you up and drag you from your home? But he was right. She had no supplies, no clue where she was; in all likelihood, she would be found before she even got out of the woods.

For a second she considered trying to grab his satchel and run off with it, but she dispelled the idea as quickly as it came. Supplies or no, she still didn't know where she was going.

Boris cut into her thoughts. "I'm just trying to help, I swear." He paused, eyes searching the air as if looking for a way to make her believe him. His eyes met hers, and he sighed. "Look, you've been out for hours. I could easily have dropped you off back at the castle. But I didn't. You may not realize it yet, but we're on the same side here, princess. The queen doesn't really like either of us at the moment."

Ignoring the way her heart pounded as she met his sharp eyes, she studied him again. She wasn't sure if she believed him or not. Everything in her was telling her to turn, to run the other way. He couldn't be trusted.

But the logical part of her, the part of her that had been analyzing the situation throughout, told her something different. He had a point, after all; he could have taken her back to the castle in hopes of some extra compensation. Of course, for all she knew that's exactly what he had been doing. They could be almost at the castle, and she had inconveniently woken up just before he could drop her off.

There was something about the look in his eyes, though, that convinced her otherwise. They held a strange sincerity she had rarely seen in the jovial man. Her jaw tightened as she made her decision.

Mustering up a tense smile, she nodded, trying to indicate she wouldn't run. She didn't trust him, but she would go with him. For now.

They had been walking for a few minutes - who knew where he was taking her - before another part of his words finally hit her. The queen doesn't really like either of us at the moment. What had he meant by that? Mirabel eyed him curiously.

She was following a few feet behind him - what she considered to be a safe distance, just in case. What reason would the queen have to dislike him? He had done his job, delivering her to the castle. Had something else transpired between the queen and crew while she had been unconscious? She frowned, wishing she could ask him.

Abruptly, she stopped walking. Maybe she could ask him. Tomas hadn't been able to read, but perhaps Boris could? She knew nothing of his background; he might have learned as a child.

Ahead of her, Boris stopped, turning around. He frowned at her.

"What're you doing, princess? We've got to keep moving."

Mirabel ignored him, glancing around for a stick and a clear spot of ground. She still wasn't sure if she trusted him, and she needed to know why the queen would dislike him. They might be on the same side after all. Selecting a twig by her feet, she knelt and, sweeping away the pine needles, began to write.

Boris gave a great sigh and walked over to her.

"Look, princess, this is no time for-" He stopped. Mirabel finished writing, having run out of room, and glanced up at him. His brow was furrowed, his eyes running over and over the words she had written. She continued to stare intently up at him, hoping against hope that he would understand.

Finally, he met her pleading eyes. "I-" he started. Then, glancing back at her writing, "Yes, I can read," he said, answering her written question. "A little, anyway."

A swell of excitement bloomed in her chest and she ran her hand over what she had written, erasing the words, and began writing again.

The queen dislikes you? Why? Within the question was another, unspoken and unwritten: can I actually trust you? Will you betray me?

Boris sighed, and lowered himself into a sitting position. "The queen ordered Ivan to 'take care' of me and the others. If you get what I mean." He met her eyes. "Loose ends, and all."

Mirabel nodded. She was unsure why the queen would care, or why Ivan would do as the queen said after he had already been paid, but she understood. She was about to start writing again when he continued.

"Of course, I have no proof of this. It was just a look in Ivan's eyes, and the fact he wouldn't tell us where we were going next. When I asked for my share of the money, he got all upset, and said something about how I just wanted the money so I could skip out and leave the team." The corner of his mouth twitched in wry amusement. "To be fair, the thought had crossed my mind. But after that, we got into a bit of a scuffle. I punched him, walked out. Didn't really know where to go. Ended up heading back towards the castle. Maybe I thought I was going to confront the queen about it, get my cut of the money some other way. That's when I ran into you instead." He shrugged. "And here we are."

He sat in silence for a moment. Mirabel just looked at him, trying to gauge his honesty. She still had another question, but before she could write it, Boris stood.

"Anyway, we should keep moving. I think we're nearly out of these blasted woods." He smiled down at her, offering his hand to help her up. For a moment, she didn't take it. Then, she reached out her hand and accepted it.

Both standing, Boris scuffed his foot against what she had written, erasing it. Without looking to see if she was going to follow him, he set off in the direction they had been heading before. And this time, she didn't hesitate as long before following.  

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A/N: Welp, sorry about how long this took. I have no right to say anything. Just, sorry. This is inexcusable. I would like to be able to tell you that I'm going to crack down on my writing and finally finish this story, but I would be lying. Inspiration comes and goes, and I have no control over that. Right now I'm just working on planning out how the rest of the story will go so that I have a guideline to follow when inspiration abandons me. In the meantime, here's this. I don't know how long it will be before the next chapter happens. So, again, I'm sorry. And I hope you enjoyed the chapter.

(Maybe help me out by letting me know whose POV should happen next? I'm struggling with that decision. Anyway, thanks so reading, if you did, and for sticking with me and this story - again, if you did. Love y'all!)