They'd been driving for a long time, but they didn't look to be getting anywhere. That seemed to be half of this forsaken country, however. Ramona realized that in between cities, there was a whole lot of nothing. She waited, content. Gally had finally fallen asleep, and he had yet to wake up in a cold sweat or screaming. He'd succeeded her minimal expectations, at least. 

She was exhausted herself, but there was this nervous energy in her stomach with Gally asleep. Not that she couldn't buck him off or cover his mouth if he woke up in a panic, but his stability was something to be wary of. It wasn't there, for the most part. Every now and then she could determine that he was clear, but sometimes he would say things that made her second guess him. 

The cart slowed to a stop, and Ramona was put on alert. Last she looked outside, they were in the middle of nowhere, not even a farm in the distance. It was damn cold, especially since Gally needed her coat in order to not die overnight. She wanted to get into a building as soon as possible.

Everything shifted a bit, signifying to her that the driver had gotten out of the cart. Quirking an eyebrow, Ramona shifted on her toes and began moving towards the back of the cart. Trying not to brush up against hay stacks, she looked for decent cover.

"Why are we stopped?" She inched forward, making it to the crates.

"C'mon out here a second."

Was there something wrong with the cart? She didn't notice anything. Nerves electrified, she squatted and reached for her gun on her hip.

He'd been nothing but helpful so far. Then again, things change. 

"One moment," she said. Shifting to the next section of barrels, she wanted to keep herself covered until she could see him. He was a big man, if she was going to have to attack him, she'd need to take him down. In the middle of nowhere, that would not be ideal.

There was this grinding of metal, and she heard a chunk! from beyond the crates. Smoothing a hand down her face, she had to clench her teeth in order to keep from groaning. 

The sound was that of a rifle being cocked to shoot. She imagined if she looked over the crates, he would be standing in front of the only exit ready to shoot her the moment she stuck her head out.

Peeking her eyes over the crates, he stood in front of the cart, rifle aimed right at the exit. Why did she have to be right?

Taking her own gun out of the holster, she pressed it to her chest and asked, "something I can help with?"

"Just come out here."

Ramona let out a false laugh. "Call me paranoid."

"Ditto."

Damn it. "Listen, bud. I'd recommend you keep driving, and we'll forget this whole thing."

"Didn't occur to you that I can hear your whole conversation from the front, eh? Don't sound like family. Don't sound like you're running away from anything but the law. I ain't no criminal."

That was a mistake on their part, she had to admit. It hadn't even crossed her mind she'd been so tired and relieved that they were able to get out of there in one piece. Either way, this wasn't like her. That was incredibly stupid. 

However, she wasn't about to let him know that. "Yet you'd become a murderer?" Ramona shook her head. "Is that what you country-boy idiots call logic?"

"I've a feeling you're worth some money. They'd think me a hero, maybe. Merinne whore."

That was how he was going to be — so much for thinking he was a decent guy. However, she did not want him shooting into this cart. He may hit Gally, who would not survive any wound at this point. If he shot her, that'd be a problem too, and she'd be mad enough to kill him granted she weren't dead herself.

Shifting over, she eyed all the crates and haystacks in the caravan. She had an idea. Putting the gun away, she pressed her back to the haystacks and put her feet up towards the crates. Bringing her knees towards her face, she reached her hand to her boot. With one quick motion, she bucked, sending crates sailing out the cart. At the same time, she pulled Leif's knife from her boot and lunged forward.

The man was too on edge, and thankfully shot in the commotion. He wouldn't be able to reload before she got to him. Scrambling, realizing what she'd done, she watched him try to reload. She leapt off the back of the cart and kicked into his chest, sending him to the ground with a knife at his throat.

"I'd recommend you keep driving. Last warning. You get us safely there, and you never hear from us again."

"You bitch!" He moved for the rifle, but she knocked it away. Then he swung at her, but the knife dancing around his throat prompted him to stop.

"I know it's hard, but don't be stupid." She let the knife lay flat against his chin, point a hair away from his throat. "I can drive this thing myself. Know what that means? Means I am more than happy to kill you if you try anything else. Do you know how many people I've killed just to get here?" she laughed. "And I don't even have anything!"

He did not think she was funny. Neither did she, but with wide eyes and a wicked smile, she could convince anyone she was crazy. "We are hours away from anywhere. You're a traveling salesmen. If you have a family, they won't know about your death for weeks. No one is looking for you. By the time I'm through with you, they will never find you. Is that what you want?"

A hushed moan came from his lips as the color drained from his face.

"Take this as a mercy. Keep. Driving."

He nodded, but she wasn't through yet. Taking the knife, she slashed him in the arm. Not enough to cause any real damage, but enough to make him cry out.

"That was for talking shit about Merinne. I'd recommend staying mute from now on, too." With that, she slipped the knife back into her boot.

Scrambling from the cart got her to look up. Moving off of the driver, she backed away and hopped onto the cart. Gally made his way out.

"What was that!?" he screeched. He toppled, even on all fours.

The driver started, "just some —"

Ramona glanced back, red-eyed and glaring. He stopped. "Something wrong with the cart. We just hit a bump, that's all."

"I heard you talking to someone."

"I told him next time he should tie down his merchandise. Otherwise, everything might not get where it needs to be," Ramona stared the man down as she said this, and he rushed to the front of the car.

Gally's eyebrows pinched and he had a real sour look to him. "Why do I feel that is not what happened?"

"That's what I'm telling you," Ramona said. She stepped over him and made her way to the back and plopped down. "I wouldn't worry about it, if I were you."

"What if I do?"

"Not my problem," she said. Crossing her arms, she patted the spot next to her. "I'd recommend you just get your rest."

"He's being nice to us."

"Mm. Yeah. I'll keep that in mind," she snorted. Ignorance was bliss, she'd heard. Gally was going to be a problem in these distant towns. He was a real sucker. 

Gally let out a big sigh and moved to sit next to her. Ramona took this time to start cleaning her guns.

The heir was suddenly very interested in what she was doing, watching as she laid them all out. "Why do you have so many?"

"It's a hobby."

"An odd one."

Ramona smirked. "It's not really. But I like to be my own one-woman army." She took the gun oil and worked through her pistols. Finally the cart started moving and she let out a breath of relief.

"I guess." Gally tipped his head back and forth. "Is it really necessary?"

Ramona nodded. "I'd say so."

The discouraged shrug that he got made her groan. "What's the matter?"

He eyed all the weaponry, his face slumping more and more the longer she messed with her weapons. "It just makes me sad. That you think you need that many weapons in my country."

"What happened to 'you're not a prince'?"

He blinked at her and his mouth slacked. "I-I guess —" he stammered and eventually didn't say anything.

"No prince, no country, Gally," she said. Grunting, she moved back up on her feet and put one of her now readied pistols away. "You gotta figure out what you want." She began cleaning the next one.

"You know what you want?"

She nodded. His eyes lit up.

"What's that?"

"To leave." It was brisk and perhaps a little cruel, but admittedly she had not thought far beyond that. It'd been too long, living here. This land had not treated her well. 

The brightness left as quick as it came. "And after that?"

"To move on." 

The silence that hung onto the air after that was dry, crackling with thoughts. Admittedly, Ramona hoped for a quiet life, away from all the noise, though it may be unlikely. Besides, she was also painfully aware that she may get bored with a life like that. 

It was a good goal for someone who never actually thought the'd see such a peace. At least, not until she was six feet under. That was not something she wanted to express to him

"So, whatcha thinking?"

He screwed up his mouth and let out heavy breaths, staring at the wood grain of the cart, occasionally glancing at the guns being cleaned.

"I don't like the guns."

She blew a breath between her teeth, causing that whistle. "Yup. I know."

"How long have you known how to use one?"

"I was trained on 'em when I was a kid. Only started using them a lot a few years ago."

"Really?" he asked. He shifted to ask more questions and she held her hand up.

"That's enough about me." It was making her anxious, so many questions. As the questions became more incessant, she'd just get more annoyed at where she was now. She flipped to tlak about him. "Do you know how to use one?"

Part of her wanted to put one in his hand, let him try to gain control of something. However, with his shaking and general lack of strength, that was probably not a good idea.

"I was supposed to. My father was adamant I learn how to defend myself." He let out a sheepish laugh. "However, I was quite young, and that was when I was still pretty small." 

"As opposed to now?" she asked, eyeing him. She was twice the size he was, except in height. He scratched the back of his neck. 

"Well, I shot the gun and was blown by the kickback. After that, my mother decided I would be guarded all my life." He sighed. "Sort of a pathetic existence."

"Hey, if you have the means," Ramona said. "Think I'd be defending myself if I had somebody who could do it for me? Not a chance." 

He laughed and scrunched up his face. "You don't believe that." He shook his head and grabbed at the bullets. "I can't imagine you hiding behind anybody." 

Ramona smiled at that. "I guess I didn't think of it like that." Having money here would have given her a very different life. The life she'd probably planned for. It's funny how people change so much in so few years. Years ago, she'd never have thought she'd be causing so much trouble. 

Then again, it confused her that Gally didn't know anything about weapons. He was royalty. Royalty who had decided to go out on his own. Her smile skewed into a curious knot. Finally, she looked up at him. 

"Wait a minute. It didn't occur to your family to re-enter that conversation about defending yourself after you deferred the throne and left?"

He raised his eyebrows, a flat look in his eyes. Pressing his lips together, he sighed. "I didn't think you knew that."

"I pay some attention," she said. "So, why didn't you learn then?"

"I didn't want it then." His chin was level and harsh. "I believed I wouldn't need it. Didn't want to need it."

That worked out well, she thought. However, she can't imagine him ever being comfortable with a gun. If this was him supposedly 'playing' at being who he used to be, then she imagined he was an even stricter pacifist before the whole ordeal.

"Well. There are some skills not everyone needs."

That wasn't the answer he was expecting. He'd been all broad-shouldered and brazened with a response, but with that, his shoulders sagged and he fell back down. With that the cart fell to a comfortable silence, and she was able to work in peace. 

When they got to the next town, she was officially starving, exhausted, and had incredibly little patience. 

The driver raised his hand out and she shook it. He ripped his hand away and swiped his pants. She raised an eyebrow at him, then laughed. 

"I think we both know I'm not paying you a dime," she said. Then she grabbed Gally's wheelchair and set it out. "Try anything and die, fool." 

He grumbled and began unloading his own belongings, while Ramona went and picked up Gally.  The sun was beginning to rise, but she'd be damned if she didn't get some sleep somewhere. 

He slung an arm around her and they walked out together, her more supporting him on her hip like he were a child. Then she slung him into the wheelchair. 

"Thank you, sir!" Gally yelled, waving at him. With a blustery demeanor he puffed his chest. Ramona put her hand on her pistol and then wagged a finger. Instead, he gave a gruff nod and went back to his business. 

Gally was going to get them killed, she just fucking knew it. In the moment, however, she could bask in the fact that something had gone relatively okay. With a few vague threats and a lot of bluffing, she'd managed to create a reputation that may become useful. At least they'd gotten to Jakoby. 

A bigger city towards the east, Jakoby was landlocked. They were getting far enough away from the ports and sea that there wasn't a lot of travelers from the coastal cities. This meant that life would be seemingly much easier for Ramona. Other than where the castle lie, most towns port-side had a grudge against the Merinne populous. It was the same in Merinne, Ramona supposed, but that didn't make it any better. 

Bottom-line: Ramona might actually be able to sit down at a restaurant and not have a damn mute take her order for her. 

"You hungry?"

Gally nodded. She wasn't surprised. There was a nervous energy to him, and he faltered. 

"How ya feeling?"

"Like none of this is real." 

She pinched his arm and he yelped, swatting her away. "Feel real now?"

"Very funny." 

"Well, we'll get you something to eat. You must be starving." Ramona was surprised he hadn't passed out yet, either from exhaustion or starvation or freezing to death. Maybe the crate with the one apple that they stole was enough to tide him over, but she doubted it. It was sheer force of will now. 

She had to give him something, the pacifist moron was a survivor. 

"Welcome to Jakoby, Gally." 

A/N

This chapter will likely be edited to be a little different in the future, but I just wanted to push something out there and get the ball rolling. The next chapter will actually be a Holiday Special, so it won't really have much to do with the actual story. That should be out Christmas Eve morning/afternoon. 

Happy Holidays!

 _huckleberry