Into The Woods

Fred would admit it. She was excited. And a little trepidatious given that if she were caught, it would create a whole world of problems for her, not the least of which being the ruination of her reputation and possibly her marriage. But it wasn’t as though she hadn’t take chances like that before. Just her experiments alone would cause her a great deal of problems. ( Besides, teaching a man to read was a really worthy thing to do. )

He was just walking along the street, trying to get use to the feeling of being upright. He stopped walking when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He stood in front of the glass window of the bakery, blinking at what he saw. He was looking forward so intently most people passing by him thought he was trying to decide which sweet treats to purchase. In actuality, he hadn’t even noticed the pastries or breads. He was staring at his reflection, trying to see something he could recognize.

Bartleby Wolfe. That was the name he was using now. It was so human. Before, there was no real need for names. They all knew each other by their scent. Some of the other wolves had called him Big Bad; his mother used Big Boy. But they were just words. It was his scent that his family and friends recognized. It was his scent that made him who he was. But that was then. Now, he had to learn names. They were much more important than scents.

( Now everything was different )

One morning, after completing his errands for the innkeeper, Miles took Mother Goose’s advice and made a trip to the nearest castle. He felt a promising excitement take hold of his heart. There was every possibility that the military man in charge would know something about his lost unit. And if not, certainly he would be invited into a new brotherhood of soldiers. The post commander would see that he had much to offer. But things did not go as he expected.

Miles thought he had done everything properly, according to military protocol. He had presented himself at the castle garrison and respectfully requested an audience with the captain of the guard. Annoyingly, the underling he met there had not treated him professionally at all. The sloppy rogue had merely inserted dirty fingers under his scuffed leather jerkin and pulled out a bodkin. He then had the nerve to challenge Miles to a game of mumblety-peg for the privilege of speaking to his superior officer.

“I’ll just wait,” Miles had said coldly. And he waited, standing still and tall just outside the garrison. The castle servants stared at him as they passed by on their business, some attempting to engage him in conversation which he politely deflected. At times, when the wind was right, he could hear some catcalls and jokes being hurled at him from the guards in the towers. Miles ignored all of this, determined to show that he was a superior soldier to someone who mattered.

Fred wasn’t sure what she was doing here. Well, she was. In a sense. She knew that she’d been sent to represent her husband’s family at this function. Though that in itself was a bit odd, because it wasn’t like her monster-in-law was proud of the girl her son had married or anything. So Fred could only conclude that this must not be a terribly important event.

But in the more immediate sense, the princess wasn’t certain what she was supposed to be doing at the moment. Right now, she was standing on a platform, smiling in a perfunctory way, watching the parade unfold before her. People were passing before the platform, marching in uniform, waving holiday banners decorated with streamers and flowers. Occasionally they would wave, and Fred was wondering if she was supposed to wave back or not. She just didn’t know. They didn’t do this sort of thing where she came from, a spring holiday parade. Or if they had, her parents had done the honors.

She had to admit, if she wasn’t so nervous about what she was supposed to be doing, she might actually be enjoying it. It was a lovely day, there were bands and apparently a big picnic planned for afterward. Though with a retinue trailing her today, she probably wouldn’t be able to be as open about her pleasure as she would were she alone. Fred always sort of suspected they were there less to serve her and more to spy on her for her husband’s mother. But with several other royals here as well, it would look odd if she was not attended properly.

At that moment, a particularly adorable little girl with curly pigtails and big blue bows walked past. And with a very big smile, she waved at Winnifred. The princess couldn’t help herself this time, and her hand lifted to return the greeting enthusiastically. From behind her, she heard one of the ladies in waiting give an embarrassed cough just as another of them sighed. Fred dropped her hand hastily, fighting the blush she could feel creeping across her cheeks, hoping nobody else saw her gaffe.

When was this picnic supposed to start? She could really use some pie.

This was not the market that she had wanted. There was no vendor with little metallic bits and bobs, no odd little sprockets or strangely oblong gears. She’d had ideas for those gears. This was not even the right village. All of the buildings here had grey slate roofs, and the village she had actually wanted, she recalled, had red tile roofs. This was the wrong place altogether.

It would be very tempting to blame the cookie-hoarder, to think that he had given her false directions. But after replaying the conversation in her head, Fred was forced to admit that she might have made a mistake in her calculations over which village contained the market she had an interest in. She had asked for help in finding a village, and the twitchy man had provided it. It just happened that it was not the village she was hoping for.

( Oh well. She was here, she might as well make the best of it. )

Well this was… not right. That wasn’t the first phrase that had come to mind, but those words were not the sort a princess was supposed to say so it was better to not even think them. So Winnifred had hastily amended what she had been thinking, but the sentiment was still the same. This was not right.

She stopped, standing dead still in the middle of the path and turned in a slow circle. No, this was not right at all. She should have reached the fork to take her to the left to that village that had the interesting marketplace. It wasn’t every market that had a vendor with boxes full of interesting metal bits and sprockets. Fred had only stumbled across such a helpful find once, by accident, but she had very carefully made note of where it was so that she could return.

( Apparently not carefully enough, because she was pretty sure that she was lost. )