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Fred was nervous in a way she never had been before, but she gathered herself, and when Nate tenderly kissed the back of her hand and said, "Fair maid, I hope that one day our paths shall cross again," she shook her head, lips pursed, and rushed into his arms. She felt his surprise by the length of the pause before he put his arms around her, but put his arms around her he did, and said, "Fair maid, I must go." She pulled back, looked him in the eyes, nodded, and linked arms with him. He gave a chuckle then, one of disbelief, and said, "Do you mean to say you wish to accompany me?" She nodded, vigorously, glad to have been understood, but it was at this moment that Wenda stepped forth, tears in her eyes, and said, "Darling, please, you can't." "I'm inclined to agree with your grandmother, fair maid," said Nate gently, taking her by the shoulders. "I'm on a dangerous quest. I could not bring a maiden such as yourself into such peril." This was the knightly thing to say, and do, but Fred was no fair maid--except, well... she was. But not really! But there was no way to explain that to Nate. Tears of frustration began to gather in her eyes and run down her cheeks, but her throat could produce no sobs. "Fair maid, as I said, I do hope our paths will cross again one day," said Nate again, sounding mournful now. "Until then, be well." And he gently pried her from him, something she could not stop, her muscles weak. But as he began to strike off into the woods, she stubbornly followed him a few paces behind. This was immediately noticed, but Wenda interjected before he could say anything, crying, "My dear, don't be ridiculous! You heard him, his road is a dangerous one, not suited to someone like you! What's so wrong with staying here anyway?" She was properly crying now, albeit silently, and Nate suddenly thought he might understand. He approached her, and leaning in, he quietly asked, "Do you just want to get away?" She nodded vigorously yet again, grabbing his hands in desperation as soon as she could. He blinked, and seemed to ponder this for a moment. He glanced over at Wenda, and said, "Madam, I cannot, and will not bring her on my quest. But I shall escort her to the nearest village, and see if she can show me what it is she truly wants. I promise she shall be safe." "What she truly wants," Wenda scoffed, now becoming quite visibly distraught herself. "Isn't it obvious? She's in love with you." Nate blinked profusely, and said, "E-even if that is so, this does not have to be goodbye forever. I will make sure she is taken care of, and has the means to return here when she has acquired what she wants." At this, Wenda at last burst into tears, and rushed over to Fred, taking her into her arms. Though Wenda was advanced in years, she was still stronger than Fred, who was helpless against the embrace, but did not struggle in any case. "Return to me as soon as you have found whatever you're looking for," Wenda cried, and Fred, upon being released, nodded, though she was still crying herself, rather uncontrollably--although now it was merely a result of being overwhelmed, rather than frustrated. She was getting out? Really? This knight would help her? There was hope for her? Even a speck of it? Wenda insisted upon gathering up a few more supplies before sending them off, and within the half hour, Fred was, at last, heading off into the woods, leaving the cottage where she'd wasted three years behind. She'd grown, and now appeared as a 23-year-old, still radiantly beautiful. It was so strange seeing a body that was not really hers show signs of growing older. They were faint, but decidedly there. Hopefully, there would be no more. As they walked, Nate tried to probe her for information: "Did that Wenda woman mistreat you?" She shook her head, and he seemed surprised. "Oh. She just didn't want you leaving, eh? Never gave you a chance?" Nod. "Have you always had no voice?" Shake. "How did it happen? Illness?" Shake. "Were you cursed?" Vigorous nod. "Oh! Is that what you want help with?" Vigorous nod. "At last we're getting somewhere! I'm not sure how many resources are in the next few towns, but we'll see about taking you to a magic healer." After calling her "fair maid" for a while, Nate eventually decided to call her "Bella" instead, in a similar spirit, and asked if that was all right with her. She agreed, not really caring--hoping that it would be a very temporary thing, anyway. Fred was on cloud nine. The only problem, at this point, was that Nate still seemed to have feelings for her, and seemed to believe that she had feelings for him as well. Still, he was a gentleman, and made no true advances, for which she was terribly grateful. At night, Nate gave her his bedroll and slept a few paces off. She woke earlier than he did to try to do her hair and wash her face, forever conscious of how she looked. She was rather miserable upon realizing that travel would make this very difficult, but upon waking, Nate smiled at her and said, "Good morning. You look radiant." She appreciated the affirmation more than she wanted to. At last they reached the next town. After Nate bought a meal for them, he did some asking around for a wise magical healer. And as it turned out, there was one! An old man named Phelyp. Nate took her to him at once, and said, "This is Bella, or at least I've been calling her that. She's indicated that her voice was stolen by magic. Can you help her?" Phelyp rubbed together his gnarled hands. "Interesting! By magic, you say? Does that mean somebody cursed you intentionally?" Fred--although she was already beginning to not mind being called Bella--nodded. "Hmm, this could be a tricky one. How long has it been?" She held up three fingers. "Three? Three what? Years?" She nodded. "Tricky indeed... Was it done by potion?" She shook her head. "Spell, then?" She nodded. "Can you write? Give me some more information?" She shook her head sadly. "Blast! Very well, it's not too much to go on, but it's enough to get started. It will take some time. Days, at least."
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