She had been working in the garden early that morning, when a strange boy came tumbling over her wall.

The poor thing was scared, not much older fourteen or fifteen, and a sight for sore eyes as he was bruised and filthy a small cut over his left brow. His chest heaving up in down as his eyes darted around before falling on her.

He looked ready to bolt, as she could hear the distant sound of guards," The boy wen this way." And she made a decision taking his wrist and pulling him inside of her home.

She shut the door behind him going back to her as the guards approached her home, looking up at them she recognized him as one of them as being the notorious Flynnigan Ryder, the man whom stole the Princesses heart.

She couldn't stand the way he looked at her, it was the way everyone looked at her with distain, even the kindest of people looked at her in this way.

"Did you see a boy come through here?" Flynn asked her, but she paid him no interest focusing on collecting her herbs.

"I don't see many children around here." She answered, disinterested tossing the weeds aside tucking the useful plants into her basket.

Though Flynn didn't seem to believe her little fib," Are you certain?" He asked, his eyes wandering to the door of her home," Would mind if we checked your home."

She raised her eyes to meet his," No I see no reason why you need to, now if you'll excuse me I'm very busy."

One of the guard grabbed her wrist," There's something you're not telling us." She pulled her arm from his grasp.

"I assure there is nothing, now leave." She said, glaring sharply at the man turning around and going inside slamming the door shut behind herself.

She held her breath as she listened quietly, hearing the footsteps as they faded to nothing. Releasing the air, she was holding she slid down the door, putting her head in her hands.

This was serious, she had just lied to the royal guard…but she couldn't understand why they'd be chasing after such a young boy.

Lifting her face from her hands, she looked around the room, wondering to herself where said boy gone.

He might have done the smart thing and disappeared from her life. Though judging by the shuffling from she heard from her kitchen something told her that he hadn't gone too far.

Hoisting herself up she moved in the direction of the shuffling leaning against the door frame, watching the boy dig through her cabinets, with interest," Find anything you like?" She asked.

The boy stumbled backwards falling on his bottom, as she stifled a giggle holding out her hand to help him up, but he shoved it away.

Raising an eyebrow at him, she brushed this off," Can I at least help with the cut on your forehead?" She asked, watching him eye her warily from his position," I promise I won't turn you in."

He nodded cautiously, letting her help him to his feet the time, getting him settled a sitting on the bed.

She fetched some water and cloth, pulling up a stool she wet it dabbing at the cut above his brow as gently as she could, but she could still see him wince slightly," Sorry."

The boy stayed quiet fidgeting with his fingers looking almost like a deer in headlights, ready to bolt at a moments notice," You don't look much like a fugitive to me." She commented, trying to make small talk.

He averted his eyes," Then you really don't know much about me." He answered, a slight quiver accenting his words.

"No, I don't." She answered, absentmindedly digging around looking for something to place over the cut," Why don't you start by telling me your name?" She asked, patiently.

He chewed on his lip, looking like he was debating on whether to tell her before settling," Varian…my name is Varian." And she smiled putting a small piece of gauze over the cut.

"Varian." She said, rolling the name around in his mouth, "That's a lovely name." She told him.

"Isn't it only fair you tell me yours." Varian asked, clearly still not trusting her looking her over, with a wary gaze.

"I have none." She said, setting the bowl of water a cloth aside," Are you hungry?" She asked him, trying to change the subject," I was planning on eating soon and could use some company."

Varian was a bit overwhelmed by all of this," Wait hold on back up you don't have a name." He asked, sounding extremely confused by this notion," …Then what do people call you." Honest curiosity overwhelming the uneasiness he was feeling before.

She seemed amused with this question," Some call me the Wandering Witch." The girl mused," I woke up one day with no memory of my past or myself."

For some reason this made Varian curl in on himself a little as if the empathy he felt for this girl was starting to overwhelm him a little. He understood what it felt like to be alone, and he couldn't imagine having to go through it without a memory.

"You can call me what you like if it makes you feel better." She told him sensing his discomfort with this situation.

Varian pondered this thought for a minute, he'd never had to give someone a name before. That's when a sprig of lavender caught his eye, it had somehow managed to tangle itself in her hair, the pale purple looking lovely against her dark locks.

"Lavender." The words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Her eye widened slightly in excitement, a small smile already playing on her lips," Lavender, I think it suits me." Lavender got serious once more," Now let's talk about why your running from the law."

Avoiding her eyes he folded in on himself," I've done bad things…unforgivable things…" He answer, regret seeping into his words.

"You're young, and mistakes happen," She told him," Even the ones that seem like the worst things can be forgiven with time." Lavender told him.

"Not this one…" He stayed silent, after uttering that sentence a far away look filling his pale blue eyes.

Stretching Lavender got to her feet, " I'm going to get started on dinner." She commented, hoping to break the thick tension filling the air," Feel free to rest a bit."

And before Varian could answer she had already left the room, leaving him alone debating on whether or not to stay.

Varian yawned, letting the sore tired feeling overtake him as he laid down on the soft bed. Feeling safe for the first time in a long time.