God Help the Outcasts: A Disney Crossover Fanfic

Chapter Seven: Paris At Last

A/N: Just a reminder that I'm now posting twice a week, on Tuesdays and Fridays. :) Please don't forget to follow and leave feedback if you're enjoying this story. And a huge thank you to my one new follower! <3

Nakoma sighed as she pulled the needle through the coarse fabric of the torn mail bag. She sat in the back of the wagon with the remainder of Captain Lewis' wares, waiting for him to come out of the little shop. He was delivering mail and negotiating prices on some wool blankets he'd brought over from England, and she'd soon learned how shrewd he was when it came to getting the top price for his merchandise. He could be in there for a good deal of time.

She put down the sewing for a moment and gazed at the people bustling about in the streets. It was around midday, and so the little town just south of Paris was crawling with peasants and nobles alike as they went about their daily business. Just a few more stops, he'd said, but that had been nearly three hours and five shops ago. When would he find her a coach to Paris? She longed to be standing on the steps of the cathedral, admiring its architecture and dignity, and more importantly, to be within its stone walls, worshipping the one true God.

Memories rushed back, memories that had been pushed to the side in all the excitement of the voyage: Mrs. Jenkins taking her to church on Sundays, the steady conviction she'd felt growing each time, and finally, that beautiful moment when she'd let herself go and decided to hold tightly to the hand of Christ. Yes, her transformation had been swift, but the fruitful spirit that God had placed within her was no less treasured. She smiled a little, and then returned to her sewing, sending up silent prayers and praises to the King.

A few moments later the captain stormed from the shop, muttering curses to himself. Nakoma couldn't see him, but she could hear him and knew he'd lost a bargain.

"What happened this time?" she asked, poking her head out from the back of the wagon. The captain handed her the items that hadn't sold.

"Tried to cheat me out of three of my best blankets. That rascal!" Captain Lewis paused, lifting his cap to scratch his head. "He was smart, too smart for my tastes. It was a good thing I didn't go through with the deal. I can find someone else who'll pay twice what he was willing."

Nakoma struggled to keep the grin from her face, but he caught it and frowned at her. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing," she said. She put the goods back where they belonged and then picked up her sewing. "Just wondering if you've met your match."

"'Course not!" Lewis barked, his face turning an unbecoming shade of red. "No one outsmarts the Captain! If he'd been half as smart as he let on he'd have those blankets right now!"

Nakoma shook her head, still grinning.

"I didn't mean to insult your intelligence, Captain," she said meekly. "You just seemed upset, and I know you. You don't get angry easily."

"Angry? I'm not angry!" Lewis stomped away from her and accosted the rest of the Sunset crew. "Do I look angry?"

Nakoma snickered softly as she finished the stitch.

He's angry, all right.

A couple of hours later the Captain finally made good on his word.

"That coach, right there," he said, pointing across the street at a large, black carriage drawn by four horses. "It's headed for Paris. You might be a bit late for the Festival, but don't worry." Lewis grinned. "They party all night, so you'll have plenty of time."

Nakoma frowned, shouldering her pack.

"I already told you, I'm not going for—"

"I know, I know," said the Captain, waving her off toward the carriage. "But trust me, the Festival is something you've got to see."

Nakoma turned to take a step, but she couldn't leave, not yet.

"Thank you, for everything," she said, pulling Lewis into a quick hug. The man was rigid at first, but after a second or two patted her back awkwardly.

"Thanks for the mending," he replied, stepping back and rubbing the back of his neck. He seemed so stern, but his green eyes twinkled with a rare sensitivity. "Perhaps we'll meet again someday."

Nakoma smiled.

"I would like that," she said, and then moved her hand in the traditional farewell of her people. "Goodbye!"

Lewis chuckled and pushed her gently toward the coach.

"You'd better get going. It's about to leave."

She allowed herself one last glance toward Captain Lewis and his crew, and then turned and made her way to the coach, feeling strangely free. She wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not; having her horizons open made her feel somewhat insecure. Stepping up to the coach, though, she pushed her thoughts to the side and opened the little burlap pouch that Lewis had given her. It contained a few assorted coins, enough to get her a ride and something to eat when she arrived. The Captain had told her she'd earned it, but she knew he was just covering up his own generosity. Still, she'd accepted it, knowing he'd feel insulted if she didn't.

"Fare, please," the prim looking driver said, holding out a hand. Nakoma deposited a few coins, which the man then counted with interest, and at his nod climbed aboard. There was only one other passenger in the massive coach, a small, austere young woman with dark hair and a plain gown. As Nakoma sat down she glanced up, curiosity evident in her dark eyes. A second or two passed; to alleviate the uneasiness Nakoma smiled. To her surprise the woman smiled brightly back, melting the rigidity from her young features.

"Hello," the girl greeted. Her voice was slightly rough and shallow.

"Hello," replied Nakoma. "My name is Nakoma."

The girl stretched to grasp Nakoma's hand and shook it politely.

"My name's Drizella."