Belle had walked with them for a while, since Phillip had joined their party she had been supporting him and his wound as best she could, and at last Mulan's village had become visible in the distance. It wasn't a very intimidating place; the buildings were less ornate than the ones in the small town where she had almost been forced down the well, and far less stable than the structures back in Avonlea. Even the ones on the very outskirts of town. Despite the guards patrolling the area like ants, the place didn't seem like one to strike fear into your heart. Mulan said those guards were soldiers that had gone, as she had herself, to fight the ogres that spread into their kingdom. Of course that was before a small Lord's estate in the Marshlands had been reclaimed, somewhere further north-and-west, and the beasts had been steadily driven back.
Belle said nothing of the deal she had made for her people.
Throughout the brief journey Mulan had said little other than a sparse greeting to the Prince that now walked beside her, but Belle chatted away, switching her conversation at regular intervals between the two of them. It took less than half an hour to get where they wanted to go: the fringes of the forest where Belle would leave them, and the Warrior and the Prince were truly sorry to see her go. After an exchange had been made - Belle's book for Mulan's sword - Belle began the short hike back up the hill, listening in on her companion's subdued argument, though she could barely hear it. It sounded something like "Safety... honour... Aurora". Belle smiled at the last part. No doubt the Prince would be reunited with his lost Princess soon.
The woods the trio had travelled through were more sparsely dotted with trees than the forests that Belle was accustomed to. The forests she stole into as a child (hunting for unicorns, which she never found) had tall trees with silver bark, some kind of birch that she had never gotten around to identifying. The flowers there had been much more interesting, so many different kinds. Not to mention the elusive unicorns.
The Dark Forest had trees of a different kind, a creepy kind with smooth trunks but sharp branches; branches which seemed to try to pull her back, even when Rumplestiltskin had let her go. Even the trees wanted her around more than he did. Coward. Belle sniffed.
These trees were kinder than Rumplestiltskin's, the branches far reaching but unobtrusive, and the bark a warm brown. Running her fingers along the bark, Belle found patterns of sap and hunter's marks. These woods, unlike the birches near Avonlea, stood tall and proud, unaffected by the ogres that the village's soldiers had gone to fight, many many miles away. The Unicorn Forests near her childhood home were all but flat now, splintered wood decorating the brush. Too few trees remained within the borders of her father's lands, and Belle had not been allowed to go outside after the war began in earnest.
Belle sighed, as she had done a great many times on this journey, and in her distraction she stumbled over a small ditch in the soil, probably marking the end of the village's lands. She'd stepped in it walking in the other direction, too. At least she hadn't fallen over any roots yet, although she was certain she was going to twist her ankle, carrying on like this.
Reaching the top of the hill, both ankles intact, thank you very much, Belle looked back at Mulan. The former soldier was already walking a little steadier, accustomed to her newest war wound, and was gradually edging away from a clearly disgruntled (even from this distance) Prince Phillip. She smiled and turned the other way, toward the castle of her True Love.
True Love. Even saying the two little words in her mind was enough to make her heart flip, and it startled her to a decision. She began her journey through the night back to her home (not to her Father, to her home), gazing up at stars that had looked the same from the Great Hall. "I'm coming back Rumple." She couldn't help but say those words out loud.
Her blood froze and her heart stuttered as familiar, venomous voice cooed at her from behind;
"Isn't that sweet."