#arm or foot. hes not gonna magically regain that when they separate! he uses a cane to help him :-)

[summerof336bc]

thinking about my malevolent separate bodies au....

[dumdumsun]

The Loveliest Lies of All

A/N: Welcome back ❤️

Warnings: none that I'm aware of

Word Count: 3599

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Chapter Two: Hard Times at the Huskin' Bee

The chirping of crickets, gobbling of turkeys and the honking of the soaring geese above indicated the morning creeping up on the trio (or quartet?). The sound that accompanied the early morning chat of the nearby animals was Greg blowing raspberries to feed his short attention span. Scout was mildly surprised that Wirt hadn’t yet snapped at him, but then again, the teen boy was skilled at blocking out his younger brother.

For the fourth time in the last hour, Scout’s leg had given out on her slightly, causing her to stumble a bit. What she would give to have a chair, a couch, a bed to rest her wounded leg for maybe half an hour. A full one, perhaps? Maybe even two?

“You know what? I think we’re gonna find a town soon,” She chirped. “I can feel it.”

“Well, we need to,” Wirt sighed, staring up at the sky that rained rays of sunshine upon them. “It’s almost morning. We should’ve found one by now. This is the way the Woodsman told us to go, right?”

“Yes, Wirt.”

Greg blew another raspberry before glancing up at his brother with big eyes. “Have you listened to anything I’ve been saying? For the last couple hours, I’ve been saying… Pbbt! Pbbt! Pbbt-”

“Well, that settles it,” He finally snapped. “I’m gonna walk up ten feet ahead of you.” He frowned and walked past the two. Scout sighed and shook her head at her friend in amusement. She failed to notice the boy stop his walking when he heard a voice call out to him.

“I hear something!”

Scout turned to Greg and started towards him. “Wirt, Greg heard something!”

“It’s probably nothing. Hey, look,” Wirt crouched down in front of a sign nailed to a nearby tree. “‘Pottsfield, one mile’. A town! Let’s go this way.”

“Okay. After this, though.” She turned away from him and joined Greg’s side. The boy had been digging into a bush and talking into it. Behind her, she heard Wirt’s footsteps before he was by her side.

“Greg, stop talking to a bush.”

“Okay.” The boy shrugged before reaching into the bush again. Seconds later, the same bluebird from the previous night flew out of the bush and flapped her wings above them.

Scout widened her eyes at the bird. “You!”

“Thanks! I owe you a favor. So, um, you guys are lost kids with no purpose in life, right?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Um-”

“How about I bring you to Adelaide of the Pasture, the Good Woman of the Woods? She could help you get home!”

As the two boys stared at the bird in awe, Scout narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. She didn’t trust this bird for one second. “Adelaide, huh? How’s she gonna help us?”

The bluebird scrunched what would’ve been her brows. “She has powers.”

“What kind of powers?”

“Powers that’ll get you home.”

“Why can’t she just show us the trail that leads us out of here? And why does no one else seem to know the way?”

Wirt exhaled and waved his hands about. “We don’t need magic talking birds leading us to fairy godmothers in the mysterious- I’m going to Pottsfield.”

“Yes. Pottsfield. C’mon, Greg.” Scout grabbed the boy’s hand and followed behind her friend.

“What about the favor?” The bird called.

Greg turned to her with a bright smile. “I’ll think of my wish later!”

-------------------------------------------------

Scout irritably sighed at the feeling of claws softly digging into her left shoulder. “Hey,” The bird softly started in her ear. “I think we got off on the wrong foot here. What’s your name?”

“Just call me Scout.”

“Wait, seriously? Scout?”

The girl snapped her head to look at the bird. “Wanna get off on the wrong foot again?”

“Whoo, someone is sassy,” She gently tapped her cheek with her wing. “Well, Scout, you seem like a very capable young lady. What if I say… we ditch these goons and you come with me to Adelaide?”

Scout rolled her eyes and batted the winged creature off of her shoulder. “Then I say no. Never.”

Rolling her eyes, the bluebird huffed and flew next to Greg, no doubt attempting to convince the poor boy to ditch his brother and walk off with some stranger. Scout knew that Greg was smarter than that, better than that, so she didn’t bother scolding the bird. Noticing her now flapping above his shoulder, the boy brightly smiled. “So, let’s small talk. My name’s Greg. What’s yours?”

“Beatrice.”

“My brother’s name is Wirt.”

“Who cares?”

Wirt frowned and glanced at them over his shoulder. Scout sighed and shook her head.

“And my frog’s name is Wirt Jr.” Greg gently rubbed his frog’s back. “But that may change.”

“Okay. That’s great,” Beatrice lowered her voice as to not alert the two teens in front of them. “How about you and I ditch your brother and his girlfriend?”

Greg hummed in uncertainty and looked away. “Maybe later.”

Scout nearly tripped over a large pumpkin nestled within the patch they walked through. Wirt didn’t notice this and kept his gaze forward. “So, Scout, you’ll do the talking when we get there. Right?”

Huffing, the girl placed her hands on her hips. “If I must, you big wuss.”

“I-I’m not a wuss! I just- Aha!” He cheered and raised his fists triumphantly, the four now standing just above a town. “Civilization, see? Now-”

Scout tried to warn him, but the teen had walked right into a pumpkin. She watched silently with narrowed eyes as he kicked and wiggled his leg out of the vegetable before flinging it to the side. Regaining his composure, he turned forward and set his fists on his hips. “Alright. Let’s rejoin society.”

The “society” the group had walked into lacked one element. A society. There were plenty of houses littering the land, yet not a soul in sight. Rounding a corner, they walked between two houses as Wirt called out for any residents. “Hello? Hello? Hm… See anybody?”

“No,” Greg scanned the area before his eyes landed on his brother. “Oh! I see you!”

Without gaining the others’ attention, Scout slipped away to check inside the houses. They seemed… cozy. Each house was the same; small, single-roomed, and nearly empty. “These townsfolk need to invest in… well, everything…” Scout whispered as she shut the door to the fourth house she inspected.

“Scout!” Wirt called from beside a haystack. “Find anything?”

“Poor interior design, but nothing to help us.” She sighed before joining her friend at his side. “Where’s Greg?”

As if on cue, the young boy poked his head out of the haystack. “Do you hear that?”

From a barn within the distance, cheerful singing could be heard. Scout gasped and helped Greg out of the hay, frowning at the small pumpkin he must have stepped in a while ago, still on his foot. Shaking off her confusion, she let the boy keep his new shoe and followed Wirt into the barn. Peeking in, the group set their sights on something otherworldly.

The townsfolk- is that what they were?- were pumpkins. Well, their bodies were made of pumpkins, string, and actual clothing like hats. Each person had a distinct face drawn onto their pumpkin face, which sent a chill down Scout’s spine. Within the barn, the folk participated in all kinds of activities. Dancing around a tall string object, bobbing for apples, peeling apples, unhusking corn. The likes. They seemed lively, carefree.

“Oh, pardon me there.” A figure spoke as they shoved themselves between a frozen Scout and Wirt. Turning, one of the pumpkin townsfolk faced the group. “Say, you folks ought to don your vegetables and celebrate the harvest with us.”

“Uh… Oh! You’re wearing costumes!” Wirt realized.

“Well, sure. Pumpkins can’t move on their own. Can they?” He shrugged before walking away. Scout gripped Greg’s hand as she watched the pumpkin man go.

“Huh… Well, good thing you’re still wearing that pumpkin shoe, huh Greg?”

Said boy grinned up at Scout. “Yeah! I’m dressed for the occasion!”

Beatrice blinked. “You guys find this place as creepy as I do, right?”

“Absolutely.”

Wirt shrugged as if to reassure himself. “So, it’s some kind of weird cult where they wear vegetable costumes and… dance around a big thing. They seem nice enough.”

Feeling the hollow eyes of one of the townsfolk on her, Scout absentmindedly shuffled closer to Wirt. “There’s something off…”

“Well, maybe I can find someone here who will give us a ride home,” Wirt patted her shoulder comfortingly. “Scout, watch Greg. Greg, listen to Scout. Beatrice, thank you, but you can leave.” He waved the bird off.

Beatrice sighed. “I can’t leave. I’m honor-bound to help you since you helped me. That’s the- bluebird rules.”

Scout raised a brow as Wirt hummed and walked away. Greg’s eyes trailed up to his tea kettle hat that Beatrice sat upon. “Beatrice, did you know that Scout is the best dance partner ever known to man?”

“Awe, shucks, Greg…” Scout chuckled and let the boy lead her onto the dance floor.

“I’m not dancing with you.” Beatrice snipped, but Scout only grinned.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“It’s too late,” She giggled as she and Greg twirled to the music. “We’ve already started.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes and watched as Greg and Scout joined hands with the frog before dancing in a small circle. The bird noted that there was no way she was going to separate the girl from the young boy. She clearly cared about him, if she was willing to dance around like a fool in the middle of a festival hosted by pumpkin people. And not giving any lip about it, at that. Instead, she threw her head back and laughed joyfully with Greg just before a voice broke out and silenced the entire room.

“Leave Pottsfield?! Who wants to leave Pottsfield?!”

The second the townsfolk began crowding around them, Scout pulled Greg into her side, whipping her head in every direction. Greg, oblivious to the danger, smiled casually. “Oh, are we leaving already?”

“Let’s leave immediately!” Beatrice yelled just before the barn went dark. Someone had shut the doors, trapped them in.

“I’m just trying to get home.” Scout heard Wirt’s shaking voice just before he bumped into her side.

The townsfolk backed the group into a wall of more pumpkin heads and bodies as they whispered out,

“They’re not supposed to be here.”

“Maybe he’s here to steal our crops.”

“To ruin our party.”

“Or take off our pumpkin shoes!” Greg chirped, gesturing to his trapped foot.

Wirt widened his eyes and shook his head. “Uh, no. I, uh-”

A deep voice from above chuckled. “Now, hold on, everybody. Heh. Let’s not jump up to any conclusions.”

It appeared that the tall stringed object had not been an object at all. In fact, it was a body for the most menacing-looking pumpkin-folk in the entire barn. He had to crouch just to peek through the shadows, his face drawn to show a large grin of wide teeth, hollow eyes staring into the souls of the children before him.

Wirt and Scout instantly joined hands out of fear.

“Enoch,” The townsfolk who ratted them out called. “What shall we do with them?”

“Now, let’s see here, children,” Enoch detached two strings from the ceiling to act as his arms. “How’d you end up in this little town of ours?”

In a jumbled mess, Wirt and Scout spoke over each other,

“We needed to get home-”

“We were lost in the woods-”

“Then we saw your farms-”

“And your very interesting houses and thought that this was a normal place to ask for help.”

“And we all stepped on pumpkins!” Greg grinned before Scout shook her head.

“I-I didn’t! I didn’t step on any pumpkins!”

Wirt tightened his hold on her hand. “Yeah! Well… Yeah! A-And then we heard the music from the barn, and well… uh…”

“What if we just left?” Scout tried.

Enoch chuckled yet again, contradicting the very tense atmosphere within the barn. “Now, let me get this straight: you come to our town, you trample our crops, you interrupt our private engagement, and now you wanna leave?”

She blinked. “Well, when you put it like that, it makes us look bad…”

“You’ll never convict! You have no proof!” Greg shouted, almost tripping on the pumpkin his foot resided in.

The same elderly townsfolk walked over to the group, a struggling Beatrice in his hands. “This one’s trying to escape!”

“Let me go!” She cried out. “I don’t know these clowns!”

“Children,” Enoch started. “It saddens me that you don’t wish to stay here with us… particularly because I simply have to punish you for your transgressions.”

“I knew it,” Scout whispered in Wirt’s ear. “I knew they were messed up here.”

Enoch started out his next words in a sing-song tune. “So, by the order of the Pottsfield Chamber of Commerce, I find you guilty of trespassing, destruction of property, disturbing the peace… and murder.”

“Murder?!” The teens shrieked.

“Oh, no, not murder,” Enoch snorted. “But for those other crimes, I sentence you to…”

Scout held her breath.

“A few hours of manual labor.”

And then slowly let it out.

-------------------------------------------------

“Is that the last of it?” Scout asked after plunging her rake into the ground.

“Yup. That’s all the hay.” Wirt wiped a line of sweat from his forehead. “Guess that means we move onto… picking the pumpkins, right?”

“Girl!” A voice shouted out. The group turned to see a townsfolk walking up to them. “Not so fast, young lady. We need you for a special job.”

Scout and Wirt shared a look. “What… kind of special job?”

“We need a scarecrow. Need someone with nimble fingers. Gather this hay here and follow me.”

“Uh, yes, sir.” Scout quickly dumped the pile of hay into a wheelbarrow and pushed it behind the retreating pumpkin figure. She sent a reassuring smile over her shoulder at her friends. This seemed to almost do the job for Wirt, the poor boy wringing his hands together.

“She’ll be fine…”

After picking pumpkins, loading them onto a wagon, and then being bullied by turkeys (this was specifically Wirt), the group minus Scout was directed to the cornfield, baskets in hand. When approaching the clearing, the three reared back at the horrible figure displayed before them.

Its haunting grin stretched across its straw face, gangly limbs made of hay and straw, the body propped on a wooden pole. The top of its head lay open, some hay trickling from it. Beside the scarecrow was a ladder, now being climbed by Scout, who beamed at the boys and Beatrice. “Hey, there!”

“Whoo, that thing sure is ugly.” Beatrice whistled.

“He’s my pride and joy.”

Wirt wordlessly started picking the corn as Greg ran up to his friend. “Scout! I missed you so much! You missed it! The turkeys took Wirt’s hat right off his head and wore it! You should’ve seen the way Wirt jumped all around to get it-”

“Alright, Greg, that’s enough.” Wirt muttered. When Scout cackled, he snapped his head up to her. “Hey, what’re you laughing at? Your scarecrow’s head isn’t even closed! He looks like… like he’s lost his mind! Ha!”

“Stop worrying about my scarecrow and worry about your corn!” Scout pointed at him just before a stalk of corn Greg let go of had smacked the teen in his face. Wirt cried out and fell onto his back. He turned his head to the side to see Beatrice smirking at him. “Hey, guys?” Scout quietly called.

“Yeah?” Wirt turned to his friend, who stared off in the distance.

“They’re watching us like hawks…”

Once their work in the cornfield was finished, the four were sent to a large mass of empty land. Their only instruction: dig holes. Seeing as Greg was a very young and short-spanned kid, Scout took it upon herself to help the boy dig his hole and Wirt dug his own. “Scout?” Greg quietly called out, slightly winded from the work. “What if we find buried treasure?”

The girl hummed. “You think that’s why they’re having us do this? To find treasure?”

“Could be,” He shrugged before gasping. “Wait, that means we’re doin’ all the hard work and they get the pay!”

“The ways of the world, Gregory.” Scout tapped his nose. “But I’ll let you snag some.”

The two shared a laugh before Scout plunged her shovel into the ground, coming into contact with something. “Oh, hey, I found something!” She gasped.

“Buried treasure! Wirt!” Greg called out, catching the attention of his brother and their bluebird companion. “Scout found buried treasure!”

“Whoa, really?” Wirt awed as Scout ducked down to check what she found. “See, Beatrice? What’d you find, Scout?”

Wirt and Beatrice hadn’t expected to hear the girl’s frightened scream. They both flinched at the sound as Scout’s head popped up. “Greg, don’t touch it! Oh, god, get me out of here!”

“What?! What is it?!” Wirt widened his eyes and watched as Scout scrambled her way out of the hole. Greg smiled and shifted his body to reveal the skeleton laying in the hole.

“A skeleton!”

“Don’t touch it, Greg!” Scout warned. “We don’t know who that is!”

Wirt moved back and cried out in fear as Beatrice raised her brows, slightly amused. “We’re digging our own… I-I-I was wrong. I was wrong all along. I-I don’t know how to get us home. U-Use your little feet to pick our locks!”

“Oh, ho! Now you want my help?” Beatrice sassed.

“I don’t want your help-”

“Yes, he does!” Scout shouted. “Beatrice, please! At least get Greg out first!”

Any other words of plea died on her tongue at the sight of Enoch’s form moving towards them from a distance. Wirt whirled back to Beatrice, terrified. “Yes, she’s right, I want your help! Beatrice, serio-”

“Your time is up!”

“Aah!” Wirt screamed at the whole town who now crowded them once again. Scout sank back down into the hole and pulled Greg close. Shaking in his spot, Wirt stared up at Enoch, who only glanced down at the holes.

“Have the holes been dug?” A townsperson asked.

“Uh… yeah.”

“Splendid! Well, then-”

“But no.”

“No?”

Wirt blinked down at his feet before snapping his head back up to the townsfolk. “Right! Yeah… Uh, you know, we were digging, and there were too many rocks. You guys don’t like rocks, right?”

Scout narrowed her eyes as they all agreed with Wirt. “What is he doing…? We need to get out of here.”

Within the next second, Beatrice flew down into their hole, her foot free of its chain. As Wirt continued to babble, she freed Greg and then Scout, the three (plus the frog) booking it out of Pottsfield. By the time they were back in the woods, Scout’s chest burned and her leg pulsed in pain. Leaning against a tree, she sighed out and scanned the area around her. “W-Where’s Wirt?”

“Uh… Back with the pumpkin people?” Beatrice shrugged.

“What- Why?! Did you free him?!”

“Yes! I don’t know what that fool is doing!”

Scout let out a grunt of frustration. “Okay, okay. Just… watch Greg, don’t move. I’ll be right back!” She turned on her heel and rushed back towards the empty field. Cutting through the grass, she found her friend lying on his side. “Wirt!” She whispered.

He whipped his head to her, eyes wide and angry. “Where the heck did you guys go?!”

“We escaped! Why didn’t you?!”

“You guys just left me!”

Scout rolled her eyes and pulled Wirt to his feet, the boy realizing his ankle was free of its chain all this time. Dumbfounded, he let her lead him back into the woods. When he snapped back into reality, he broke into a sprint, eventually making his way to his brother and Beatrice. Bracing his hands on his knees, he took very deep breaths. “Are they chasing us?”

“No.”

He let out one last breath before standing up straight. “I-I thought you guys-”

“You’re welcome.” Beatrice smiled a bit. Wirt bowed his head.

“Thank you… I guess we’re even now, huh? You aren’t honor-bound to help us anymore?”

“I wish,” She rolled her eyes. “But you weren’t actually in any danger with those weirdos.”

Wirt grinned. “Oh, yeah! Then you still have to help us get home!”

“I got it!” Greg picked up his frog. “I wish Wirt Jr had fingernails so he could play the guitar better!”

A beat of silence passed before a voice cut through, “An odd time to tune in.”

The three turned to Scout, who approached them with a limp. Wirt frowned at this. “You weren’t running with me?”

“No, I told you they weren’t chasing us.”

“O-Oh…”

Beatrice hummed and turned back to Wirt. “So… yeah! I’ll bring you to Adelaide. I mean, that’s where I’m going anyway.”

As they began their journey ahead, Wirt wrapped Scout’s arm around his waist to support her. “Oh, yeah? What’re you going to Adelaide for?” The girl asked with a small smile.

“I guess, in some ways, I’m trying to get home, too.”

“That’s vague,” Wirt tilted his head. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.”

Scout sharply inhaled. “Touchy…”

“Well, I sure hope Adelaide is more helpful than that Woodsman was. I think his directions were… not very good.”

Scout nodded her head in agreement, leaning into Wirt’s shoulder as they continued down the autumn-decorated wood.

—————————————

Taglist: @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner

[wistfulcynic]

Their Way By Moonlight: Endings And Beginnings (chapter 18 plus epilogue)

SUMMARY: A new curse has fallen on Storybrooke and this time Emma is trapped inside it, deliberately separated from Henry and anyone else who might  help her break it. But what no one knows –including her own cursed self– is that she and Killian have the ability to share their dreams, and are working together in secret to find a way to break the curse and free everyone from a new and dangerous foe.

Rating: M

AO3

-

*draws deep breath* 

*slowly exhales it*

Okay. Okay. Wow. I can’t quite believe this is it. I’ve been writing this story for more than a year, and now it’s done. That is... well, it’s something. 

I have to take a moment to thank some people, people who helped me through when it felt like no one was reading this thing that was carving pieces out of my heart with each chapter, people whose support is the only reason the thing is finished, and that I’m even still writing. I was so, so close to giving it up but they wouldn’t let me and I am deeply grateful. 

Krystal, who inspired the thing in the first place and whose enthusiasm is a true joy to behold. Ro, whose wisdom and compassion are so vast and who was the shoulder I needed exactly when I needed it. Katie, who sees everything and understands it all, even the things I don’t say. Lisa with her amazing comments, Masha with her brilliant art, Alma with her generous soul. Devra, so insightful and thoughtful with her incisive analysis and appreciation of so many of the things I love. And Stephanie, my other half, I can’t believe I had to live forty whole years without you but this last one with you has made up for all of them. 

Thank you all. So, so much. 

-

a/n: this chapter is actually two chapters because it just got SO LONG, but I’m posting them together - or at least within a few hours of each other.

-

Endings: 

The sea was calm, that peculiarly soft and eerie calm exclusive to the hour just before the day breaks, when the air is cool and the light is grey and mist shimmers over gently undulating waves, and even the birds know it would be a sin to break the silence. Across that calm sea a boat glided, smooth and true and though no wind filled its sails, quite remarkably fast. It was a small boat, made of wood with a mast, two sails, and an oar, just enough to suit one man in decent comfort for a journey far longer than most would wish to undertake in such a vessel, but Oisín—for naturally the man was he—was quite extraordinary in his way and crossing a wide ocean in a tiny boat posed no challenge for him. 

He was nearing the end of his journey now; the thick mist and low light obscured his vision but not the pull in his blood that grew stronger as his homeland drew nearer. It is a pull we all feel after long days or weeks or years, decades even, spent away, but for a man who counts centuries as beads on an endless chain the call is stronger still. 

He dipped his oar into the water, skilfully steering the boat through the treacherous shoals that shielded his island from unwelcome travellers and into a cove perceptible only to those who already know it’s there. The boat slid onto the shore with the rough whisper of wood over sand and Oisín’s soul sighed in peace. He was home. 

He stepped from the boat and tugged it up more firmly onto the shore, looped its rope around a slender column of stone sticking up from the sand and when he turned around again she was there. The mist embraced her and the sun even now rising over the horizon cast a gentle light upon her face. A face as young and ancient as his own, smoothed by magic and profound with the weight of ages. He drank in the sight. 

“Niamh,” he said. 

“Is it done?” she demanded, in a voice drawn as from the strings of a harp, melodious and resonant. 

“It is done.” 

“Our debt is repaid?” 

Oisín nodded. “He will still have challenges to face, some magical, some of the more mortal variety. But never again will he face them alone. I can see the threads of his life, of their lives, woven together to the end.” 

“Not too soon an end?” 

“Fewer years remain by far than what he has already lived, but that remainder is still generous for a mortal man. And they will be happy years, on the whole. For her as well. For all of them.” He stepped closer and stroked her silken cheek. “Worry no more, my love. He is free now of the demons that so long tormented him, and he will be happy.” 

She sighed, and smiled, and leaned her head against his hand. “Then I am happy too.” 

Oisín smiled indulgently, an answering platitude ready upon his lips, then blinked in surprise when he realised that what he planned to say was true. “As am I,” he said softly. “Very happy indeed. Now let us go home.”

~

When Regina and Robin materialised in the sheriff’s station they found the others still there and awaiting their return. Killian was sitting on the edge of one of the desks with Emma nestled between his legs, his arms around her waist and his cheek on her hair. Henry and Neal were leaning side by side against the wall of Emma’s office, talking animatedly, and Zelena lay unmoving on the cot in her cell, staring blankly at the wall. Despite herself, Regina felt her heart twist at the thought of her sister’s bitter loss. 

“Hey, Regina,” Emma greeted her. “How’d it go?” 

“Exactly as I hoped. The magic is back in the Enchanted Forest and dispersed enough to be harmless. I put a temporary seal over the portal. It’s done. The curse is broken and its magic is completely gone.” 

Henry ran over and threw his arms around her. “Great work, Mom. Both moms,” he said, grinning at Emma. Regina hugged him back, tightly, but a hard knot of apprehension still sat like a stone in her chest. The curse was over but that didn’t mean her troubles were. 

“We should get to Granny’s,” said Emma, pulling out of Killian’s arms and going to stand behind Henry. “My parents are there and probably most of the rest of the town. We need to let them know what happened.” 

“Yes. Of course. Um. You go. I’d like—actually, I’d like talk to you for a minute, Killian. If I could?” 

His eyebrows rose in surprise, but he nodded. “Aye, if you wish. Emma, why don’t you take yourself and and the others straight to Granny’s and Regina and I will follow on foot. We’ll meet with you there in a few minutes.” 

“Okay.” 

“Should I not come with you?” asked Robin, giving Killian a dubious look, clearly wondering if he could be trusted to keep Regina safe from whatever he imagined might threaten her. Regina’s tense expression softened. 

“You can, though I really need to talk to Killian privately.” 

“I’ll keep my distance,” Robin promised, narrowing his eyes at Killian. “But I’ll be there.”  

Killian gave him a single brisk nod. Though it was very clearly not reciprocated he felt an odd kinship with Robin. After all, if anyone knew what it was to love a headstrong woman who took no care for her own safety it was he. Robin’s protectiveness may be unnecessary in this case but Killian understood all too well what drove it. “I’ve no objection,” he said. 

“Okay.” Emma gave Killian’s hand a squeeze. “We’ll see you in a bit then.” 

“Aye, love. See you soon.” 

~

The noise in the diner was deafening and the scene chaotic as people shouted greetings from across the room and elbowed each other aside to get to friends and loved ones, exchanging hugs and handshakes and recounting their lives under this most recent curse at the very tops of their lungs. Snow caught sight of Red behind the counter and ran to greet her while Charming shook hands with the Merry Men and assured them that while no, he couldn’t say where Robin Hood was at that precise moment he was sure to be fine and show up soon. 

Gradually the hubbub began to die down and Grumpy once again raised his voice. 

“So you gonna tell us what happened with the curse?” he demanded. “Who is Zelena and why did she cast it?” 

“Zelena is the Wicked Witch of the West, like we said before,” Charming replied. 

“Really though? Like with the flying monkeys and the big crystal ball?” said Grumpy.

“Yes. We don’t know how she cast the curse or why, but Emma does and she’ll be here soon. Until then, can we just… just….” He trailed off as a peculiar noise filled the air, a low-pitched hum like a distant swarm of insects, accompanied by a prickling sensation against his skin. Voices began to rise again, in consternation this time.  

“What is that?” growled Grumpy. 

“I don’t know.” Charming’s eyes sought Snow’s and she came to stand next to him, slipping her hand into his. 

“Feels like magic,” remarked Will Scarlet. “Magic sort of—loose in the air.” 

“It does kind of feel like that,” Snow agreed. “I’ve felt it before, when Regina does a spell.” 

The worried muttering increased, and Charming realised he was losing command of the situation. 

“Look, nobody panic—” he began, just as the door opened and Belle burst through it. 

“I don’t want to make anyone panic,” she said. “But there’s some sort of—something going on outside.” 

There was a moment of silence, then a rush of noise as everyone ran to the windows. 

“What the fuck?” snarled Grumpy. “Your Highnesses, you’d better come see this.” 

This was like nothing any of them had seen before, or rather nothing they had even not seen before. A sort of sideways tornado, a swirl of distortion in the air, invisible, perceptible only in the way it bent and refracted the light around it. It twisted and twined its way through the sky over the town, heading towards the forest. They all stood together and watched it go, every breath bated and each heartbeat quickened as they waited anxiously for something they had no idea how to articulate, and then, abruptly, it was gone. 

“Well,” said Charming heartily, attempting once again to regain control of the situation. “I guess that’s—well, that.” 

“Sure, yeah,” said Will. “Of course. But also what the bloody hell was that?” 

“I’m sure Emma can—” 

“Yes, yes, Emma can explain, so you keep saying. But where is this Emma?” 

“She’ll be here soon,” Charming insisted. “I promise. Until then, everyone please just stay calm.” 

The muttering began again as the crowd milled anxiously around and Charming was just reflecting on how much easier it was to lead a war council than a mob of disgruntled citizenry when white smoke swirled in the middle of the diner and Emma appeared, Neal and Henry at her side. 

Immediately the crowd erupted with a roar of noise, shouting questions and demanding answers. Emma ignored them, hurrying over to her parents with Henry close behind. 

“Grandma!” he cried, “Grandpa! I missed you guys!” 

Snow and Charming folded Henry into a double-hug, and Charming caught Emma’s eye over the top of his head. 

“You guys okay?” she asked. 

“We’re fine. Everyone else though...” He nodded to the crowd behind her. “Well, you remember that reassurance you were going to give everyone? Now’s the time.” 

“Right.” Emma turned to face the crowd. “Everyone!” she shouted. “Hey! Can you all please shut up for a minute!” 

The noise quieted as inquiring faces turned towards her. “Good,” she said. “Okay. Now I’m sure you all have a lot of questio—”  

“Is it true that Zelena is the Wicked Witch of the West?” shouted Grumpy. 

“Yeah and why’d she curse us?” Sneezy piped up.

“Oh and why—” 

“How do we—” 

“When can I—” 

“ENOUGH!” Charming’s voice boomed through the diner. “Let her speak!” 

Grumpy opened his mouth again then closed it with an audible click of his teeth as Emma and Charming shot him identical glares. “Yes,” said Emma, “it’s true that Zelena is the Wicked Witch of the West. She cast the curse to get revenge on her sister. Regina.” 

Shocked silence fell, broken just before it grew uncomfortable by Granny’s mutter. “The Evil Queen and the Wicked Witch are sisters? That’s a Thanksgiving dinner I would not want to be at.” Several people nodded their agreement, and then Grumpy piped up again. 

“So if Zelena cast the curse to get back at Regina, then the curse is actually kind of Regina’s fault even though she didn’t technically cast it,” he said. “Right?” 

“No,” said Emma. 

“But if it weren’t for her Zelena may never have—” 

“Okay maybe a little,” Emma interrupted, holding tight to her patience. “But the point is Regina didn’t cast the curse, and also she actually contributed a lot to breaking it.” 

“But—” 

“No going after Regina, Leroy,” said Emma firmly. “She’s on our side now and I for one would like to keep her there. She’s a lot more useful as an ally than an enemy.” 

“Fine,” grumbled Grumpy, and Emma extended her stern glare to the rest of the crowd. “Everyone got that?” she said, raising her voice so they all could hear. “No mobs. This curse was not Regina’s doing and Zelena is being dealt with. Just—let me handle it, okay?” 

No one replied. 

“Okay?” Emma repeated, louder still, and the crowd grumbled reluctant agreement.  

“Okay. Now, I know you must still have a lot of questions and so I’d like to propose that we all take a few days to calm down and think about what we want to do now that this curse is broken. I’m guessing a lot of you are going to want to change jobs, maybe find a new place to live. Think about it, and in a day or two we’ll have a town meeting to talk things out. Is that okay?” She turned inquiringly to Snow. 

“Um.” Snow looked startled. “You’re asking me?”

“Well, you are still the acting mayor,” Emma pointed out. 

“Huh. I guess I am.” She nodded. “That sounds like a good plan to me. All agreed?” 

There was a chorus of “ayes” and “yeses” and “I guess sos” and Emma smiled. “Good. Everyone go back home now, and if you see Regina remember no mobs.” She turned back to her parents with a relieved smile. “Ugh, I’m glad that’s done. I don’t know about you guys but I am dying for some onion rings and mint ice cream. Ooh, and maybe some pickles.” 

~

Regina took her time walking to Granny’s. Killian let her set the pace, clearly content to allow her what time she needed to collect her thoughts. They walked side by side with Robin trailing several feet behind, and Regina took advantage of the chance to look around. The streets were empty, and exactly the same as they had been before. The OG SB, as she imagined Henry would say. Curse 1.0. Her curse. 

 She shifted her shoulders uncomfortably, trying to ease the tension in them. 

“So,” she said. 

“So,” Killian echoed. 

“So, ah, things might get a little unpleasant. At Granny’s. After the last curse broke, the townspeople were out for blood.” 

“Your blood, I presume?” 

“Yes.” 

She could feel his eyes on her, observing with curiosity but no censure. “And you’re worried they will be again?” 

She nodded. “I’m sure Emma will tell them I wasn’t the one who cast it this time, but—well, there are going to be a lot of angry people. And confused ones.” 

“And anger and confusion are a bad combination,” Killian concluded. “Aye. That’s a recipe for mutiny.” She glanced at him and saw his mouth twist with an expression she couldn’t read. She wondered what he could be thinking of.

They walked another block before he spoke again. 

“There are likely to be people out for my blood as well,” he said. “There generally are. And Emma’s parents… well…” 

“Yeah.” 

“Dave will be wanting my head, no doubt. And likely other parts of my anatomy as well.” He raised a wry eyebrow and her mouth curved in an answering smile. “Emma will fight for me, but I doubt that will do much to appease their shock.”

Regina nodded, her throat too tight to speak. Emma will fight for me, he said, with a casual assurance that floored her. She couldn’t imagine what that must feel like, to have such complete faith in someone’s love for you. 

“Regina.” She looked up to find him watching her with an odd expression, understanding and almost kind. “You know that Emma will stand up for you as well,” he said. “As will I. For whatever that’s worth.” 

She smiled. “It’s worth a lot.” 

They walked in silence for a few moments more. “I sense that wasn’t all you wished to speak to me about,” Killian remarked. 

“No.” 

He turned to her with an encouraging look. “Well?” 

“Do you—do you think they’ll ever really accept you? Snow and Charming, I mean. Do you think they’ll ever truly see you as part of their family?” 

“I don’t know. I hope they will. But perhaps the most important thing I have learned about this whole redemption business is that you can’t change the past or control other people’s reaction to it. Perhaps they never will accept me, and I can’t force them to. All I can do is apologise for the wrongs I’ve done and make what amends I can, and try to live better in the future than I have in the past.” 

“And what if you lost Emma? You’d still try to do that? You wouldn’t—er—” 

“Fall back into darkness again?” Killian’s jaw was tight, his hand clenching and unclenching at his side. “No. I wouldn’t.” 

“How can you be sure?” 

“Emma wouldn’t want me to, and even if she were gone I couldn’t bear to disappoint her. But it’s more than just that. I hated who I became, after my brother died and then Milah… I loathed myself for all the things I was doing but that only drove me to do more, worse things. I didn’t know how to make myself stop. ‘This is who you are now,’ I remember thinking. ‘This is the only way for you to be.’ And that, as I’m quite certain you understand, my Queen, is a terrible way to feel. It’s a terrible way to live.” 

Regina swallowed hard. “Yes.”  

“I didn’t want to feel that way anymore. I didn’t want to live that life. Emma merely gave me an opportunity to walk a different path, showed me the way back to the man I had been long ago, a man I almost lost to vengeance. But I would still have wanted to be that man, for my own sake, even if Emma never came to love me.” 

He turned to her with an earnest expression, one she could imagine a young naval lieutenant may once have worn. “You have to want it for yourself, Regina, not for anyone else. If you’re trying to change for another person you’ll always resent it, and them. Do it for yourself alone. Do it because it’s the right thing to do, and because you deserve to be able to look at yourself in the mirror without shame. I’d like to think we all deserve that. Or at least a chance at achieving it.” 

"Thank you,” she said. “I’ll think about that.”  He’d given her a lot to think about. But Granny’s sign was looming less than a block away, and she still needed one thing more of him. 

“Can I ask you a favour?”

“Of course.”

“This curse of Zelena’s... I still can’t quite figure it out. It was weird in a way I’ve never even heard of before, almost like it was, I don’t know, sentient almost. Like it could act for itself.” 

“Hmmm. What makes you think that?”

Regina frowned, trying to recall the exact words that had triggered her bizarre theory. “Zelena told me once she had spies and alarms everywhere, and she certainly always seemed to know what was going on but I never saw anyone actually working for her. Or anything. I don’t think any of her, er, flying monkeys were even here.” 

“So you think she meant the curse itself was her spy.” 

“Yes. Does that sound crazy?” 

“Not at all. This curse certainly had some peculiar qualities. There was that wind, for example, the way it seemed to follow us around.” 

“Yes! And the way I always felt I was being watched.” 

“I suppose there’s no chance of getting Zelena to tell us, now she’s defeated.” 

“Probably not, though I plan to do my best to get it out of her. But who knows how long that might take, so in the meantime do you think you could write down everything you remember about it?” 

“Aye, of course I can. I’ll make a log of my observations, and Henry’s as well. His input will be more useful than mine since he knew the old Storybrooke far better than I did.” 

“That would be perfect. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

They reached the gate of the diner and paused for a moment beneath the arch to allow Robin to catch up with them. When he did, all three exchanged a glance, and Robin took Regina’s hand. 

“Well,” said Regina. “Here goes nothing.”

~

Emma sat herself on a stool at the counter and placed her order with Granny, whose eyebrows rose almost to her hairline as she wrote it down. 

“I’ll get that for you right away,” she said with a probing look that Emma entirely failed to notice. She tapped her fingers absently on the formica countertop, smiling as she watched Henry greet all the people still in the diner and tell them eagerly all about how he had helped break the curse. 

“So,” beamed Snow, taking Emma’s hand and letting her thumb trail significantly across the ring on it. “Congratulations, you two.” She turned her head so her smile encompassed Neal as well. “I’m so glad you found each other again and can be a family.” 

“Ah,” said Emma, glancing at Neal. He gave her a shrug, and a smirk. “Um, actually—” 

“But when did it happen?” Snow was frowning now. “My memories of the curse are really foggy, but weren’t you both here the whole time? When did you have a chance to get married?” 

“Mom, it’s not actually—” 

“Who got married?” asked David, coming over to join them. “Emma?” 

“Yeah, actually I married—” 

A broad grin broke across David’s face and he took Neal’s hand and shook it enthusiastically. “Should I give you my protective father speech now, or is it too late for that?”

Considering our kid is nearly fourteen and was born when I was hardly older than he is now, I’d say yeah it’s a bit too late, Emma thought irritably. “Dad—” 

“We’ll have to have a celebration, of course,” said David, and Snow nodded eagerly. Emma felt the situation spinning rapidly out of her control and Neal, true to form, was being no help at all. 

“GUYS,” she shouted, drawing reproachful looks from Bashful and Doc, who were at the other end of the counter. “Please would you just listen.” 

Snow and David's jaws dropped in unison, and Emma seized her advantage. “I’m not married to Neal,” she told them firmly.  

“But the ring—” Snow began. 

“You’re still not listening, Mom! I’m not married to Neal.” 

Comprehension began to dawn on her parents’ faces. “But… who then…” stuttered Snow. 

Neal’s smirk deepened, and Emma took a deep breath just as the bell on the door chimed and Killian appeared, trailed by Regina and Robin. His eyes found hers immediately and she sent him a pleading look. 

“Killian,” she informed them, reaching out her hand to grasp his hook as he approached. “I’m married to Killian.”  

“What?” Snow cried. 

“Who?” asked David. 

Neal chuckled. “Hook,” he said. 

“Hook—” David frowned in confusion. 

“Aye, mate.” Killian came to stand behind Emma, his feet braced firmly on the floor and his jaw set. 

“Wait, wait…” David shook his head. “You’re married… to Hook?”

“To Killian, yes. For over a year now.” Emma slid off the stool and positioned herself in front of her husband, directly between him and her father, planting her own feet as David’s jaw worked and his eyes flashed. 

“But he’s… he’s…” 

“Don’t say ‘a pirate,’” sighed Emma. “Please. You always say that like it’s the worst thing anyone could ever be, and it’s really not.” 

“I mean, it’s not great,” said Neal. 

“And anyway he isn’t one anymore,” Emma continued, ignoring him. “He traded his ship for a magic bean so that he could find me in New York and bring back my memories, and now he owns a bookstore.” 

“He traded his ship?” 

“Yes.” 

“Really?” 

“Aye, mate, really.” 

“For Emma?” 

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Emma,” said Killian, trying to infuse his words with all the weight of the emotions behind them. “I love her.” 

David’s jaw relaxed a fraction, and his glare grew slightly less murderous.

“So hold on,” Snow said, placing a soothing hand on David’s arm. “Let me try to understand this. Are you saying you two weren’t cursed?” 

“He wasn’t. I kind of was? It’s hard to explain,” said Emma. “Or, I guess not hard so much as long.” 

“We have time,” said David, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Emma sighed. “Okay. So basically, Killian learned that I was in danger in New York and he did what he had to do to get to me as soon as possible. He restored my memories and together we figured out what the danger was, and in the process we learned that Storybrooke must be back. I decided to come here to investigate. He didn’t want me to, but I insisted. As soon as I crossed the town line Zelena appeared in the middle of the road and when I swerved to avoid her I hit a tree and was knocked unconscious. While I was out she dosed me with a powder that had a similar effect to the curse. It took my memories away and gave me new ones. Of course I didn’t know any of this until I managed to break through the effects of the powder and remember everything again.” She shivered as she recalled how awful it had been, believing herself married to Walsh. Unable to remember Killian when she was awake, or even give him much useful information in their dreams. 

“It took Killian a year to make the preparations he needed so that he could get into Storybrooke undetected by any magic, and during that time he lived in New York and took care of Henry. He had to learn all about how our world works, how to drive a car and use a computer and run a business. He did that all by himself because I wasn’t there with him, because I didn’t listen when he told me to wait.” Her voice broke as tears began to flow down her cheeks. Snow moved to comfort her but Emma waved her mother away, instead leaning into Killian when he wrapped his arm around her waist. 

“He never gave up on me, though,” she continued, “and when the time was right he came to Storybrooke, helped bring my memories back again, and then figured out what we needed to do to break the curse.” 

“He took care of Henry?” David’s expression had softened to something very nearly not hostile, just on the edge of accepting. 

“Yeah, Grandpa.” The diner had gone silent as Emma told her tale, and now Henry came to stand next to Killian, pressing close against his side. “He’s my dad. Stepfather, technically, but my dad in every way that counts.” 

Killian found himself swallowing over a lump in his throat, and blinking back tears, and the next words he heard nearly ended him. 

“He saved my life,” Neal said quietly. 

Every eye in the room turned to stare, and Neal, for once, did not smirk. “In the sheriff’s station, earlier today,” he explained. “Zelena and Hook and me both pinned down, and I couldn’t breathe. Emma was headed for Hook, to save him, and he told her no, she needed to save me first. If he hadn’t done that, I’d be dead.” 

Slowly the eyes shifted their focus, fixing on Killian, who flushed bright red. “I was never in any true danger,” he said gruffly. “Some time ago, Emma placed a number of protection spells around me. They’ve proven remarkably effective against Zelena’s magic. I knew I could withstand whatever she threw at me, but Neal could not. That’s, er, why.” 

“You still saved his life,” said Snow. “Whatever the reason.” 

“Well, yes. I mean of course I did,” said Killian, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

David’s face was stern but his eyes warm as he uncrossed his arms and held out his hand. “Welcome to the family,” he said. “Killian.”

~

Some time later, after Emma had finished her peculiar meal and was tucked into a booth chatting with Henry and her parents, Killian found himself at the counter again, this time with a tumbler of rum and his thoughts, when Neal appeared at his side.

“So, I guess I owe you thanks,” he said. 

“I told you, I was never in any danger.” 

“Still. Thanks.” 

Killian turned to him, unsure whether to feel hurt or angry or something else entirely. “Do you really think I’d allow you to be killed if it was in my power to prevent it?” he asked. “Really?” 

Neal shrugged. “I mean, we’ve certainly had our differences. In Neverland, and then with Emma. You might want me out of the way.” 

Killian raised an eyebrow. “Because of Emma? I can assure you there is no need.” 

“Yeah, trust me man, I’ve picked up on that.” Neal accepted a beer from Granny and stared at it in silence for a moment. “You really love her, then?” 

“Aye. I do.” 

Neal nodded. “I can see it. In her too. She loves you, and so does Henry. And I—I’m really trying not to be an asshole here, but I gotta be honest. It feels like you’ve stolen my family. Again.” 

Killian took a gulp of his rum. “I do understand how it might appear that way from where you’re standing, though I promise you there was no theft involved. Either time.” He cast Neal a challenging look. “You wouldn’t ever let me tell you about your mother, in Neverland. Are you willing to listen now?” 

Neal’s mouth twisted. “Will it help?” 

“I suppose that depends on the way you listen.” 

“I don’t know if there’s any good way to listen to you talk about her.” Neal retorted. “You realise that you’ve fucked both my mother and the mother of my kid. Do you have any idea how weird that is for me?” 

“I absolutely do.” 

“It’s just—it’s gonna take me a while. And I’m not making any promises. I don’t owe you anything and you sure as hell don’t seem to feel you owe me. Did you think about me at all when you were moving in on Emma?” 

“No, I didn’t. Because I never ‘moved in on Emma’ as you so charmingly put it. And because my relationship with her has nothing to do with you.” 

“Then why did you promise to back off?” 

“At the time I didn’t know just how connected Emma and I truly are. I knew how I felt, and that there was potential that someday she might feel the same. But I also knew that putting pressure on her to make a choice between us when she’d only just rescued Henry, and when not very long before she’d thought you were dead, well, there was no way that could end well for me. And as I told you then, I intended to play a very long game if necessary.” 

“Not that long though, was it,” Neal sneered. 

“Some of the longest years of my life, being separated from her,” muttered Killian to the last drops of his rum. “Especially this last one.” He glared at Neal. “I meant that promise when I made it. But truthfully, when I learned about the way things ended between you—how you left her by choice when all I wanted was to stay by her side forever—I regretted it.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t have a choice.” 

“I understand that’s what you think. But your abandonment hurt Emma deeply in ways she still sometimes struggles with. And I find that very nearly unforgivable. If it were anyone else, Bae, anyone at all, I wouldn’t even try. But for the memory of your mother and of the boy you were, and for Henry’s sake, I am prepared to wipe the slate clean. If you will as well.”

Neal snorted. “Why should I?”

“Just because you and Emma aren’t romantically involved, that doesn’t mean you can’t be part of her life, and Henry’s. They both care about you, as do I.” 

“So you want me to be part of your sweet little family?” 

“I have wanted that for literal centuries.” 

Neal’s scowl deepened as he fiddled with a loose bit of formica on the tabletop. “Tell me about my mother,” he growled. 

 “She loved you,” Killian replied. “That’s the main thing you need to know. She thought about you every day, told me stories of you all the time. But she was not the sort of person who was really cut out to be a parent. Can you understand that? How she could love you deeply and still not be able to be a good mother to you?” 

“I—” Neal frowned, thinking of himself, and Henry. “I think maybe I can.” 

"She was desperately unhappy in the life she had before we met. I’ve done some reading on the subject and I believe she suffered from what the psychiatry of this realm calls ‘clinical depression.’ She felt hopeless to the point of despair, and though she tried to disguise it with carousing in the tavern and seeking any sort of distraction from her feelings she could find, she knew deep down that it could never be enough. She was worried that her pain would drag you down too, and she couldn’t bear to see that happen. She thought that by leaving you with a loving father who would give you the best life he could that she was giving you your best chance, and she hoped very much that when you were older she could seek you out and you might allow her a place in your life again. I’m so terribly sorry that never came to pass.” 

“So you can barely forgive me leaving Emma for her own good, but you justify my mother leaving me for mine?” Neal snarled. 

“The circumstances aren’t entirely the same, but I take your point. I understand you find it difficult to forgive your mother, and me. But make no mistake, Neal, Milah intended to escape her life, one way or the other. I offered her a preferable alternative to some of the others she was considering, and I like to think she was as happy with me as she could have been. Sometimes there are no good options available and you simply have to take the least bad one.” 

“Like I have to choose between hanging around here and watching you be happy with my ex, or leaving and not seeing Henry anymore.” 

“Aye. Like that.” 

Silence fell between them again, heavy with resentment. Neal drank deeply from his beer, his knuckles white around the handle of the mug. When it was empty he set it forcefully on the counter and turned to face Killian. 

“I’ll take that clean slate,” he said. “I’m definitely not saying I’m ready for us to be happy families, okay, and I might never be, but I’m tired of holding on to this  anger. And hey, if you can stop being angry anyone can, right?” 

Killian nodded, swallowing over the lump in his throat. “Aye. I’d say they can.” 

-

Epilogue coming soon! (like later tonight soon!)  LINK TO THE EPILOGUE

-

@thisonesatellite​ @ohmightydevviepuu​ @katie-dub​​​​​ @kmomof4​​​​​ @teamhook​​​ @stahlop​​​​​ @mariakov81​​​​​ @snowbellewells​​​​ @thejollyroger-writer​​ @jennjenn615​​ @tiganasummertree​​ @lfh1226-linda​​ @winterbaby89​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​

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The Forgotten - Chapter 13

@elejah-wonderland @elejahforever @eternityunicorn @morsmornte @fandomrulesall @xanderling @cry-btch @kol-and-elena-fanfiction @geekofmanyfandoms

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12

2011

++++

Shoving up the sleeves of her oversized sweater proved pointless since they slipped down her arms moments later, but she persisted until her search took on a frenzy that made her fashion worries obsolete. With her pulse slamming in her ears she flipped through the overflow of pages for the fourth time. Each yellowed page held a different image of a dark object imprisoned in the tightly woven fibers.

She forced her limbs to slow down and carefully placed the objects in a pile that she would place in a folder later. There was the devil’s star that would cause a thousand cuts, cursed shackles to halt a witch’s power – she had loaned them out once when the Voodoo Queens had gotten out of control. There was a diamond, a dagger, a hand of glory and a blood rider. Nearly a hundred objects – most of them dark – were stacked, but there was a single, glaringly obvious, absence.

Her hands shook as she pulled every last page from the grimoire and categorized them: spells, rituals, tools and light objects. She couldn’t read the final pages as they were sorted and the absence confirmed.

She took a deep breath, wiped her sweaty palms on her leggings and reached for her cell phone. She flipped to her stored numbers and pressed call. The dial tone stretched out and calmed her heart.

It was a coincidence.

It had to be a coincidence.

It was just in New Orleans.

It had to be in New Orleans.

“-Lo?” His gruff, sleep laced, voice, crackled over the line.

“Hi, sweetie,” her stomach clenched, painfully, “did I wake you?”

“No,” he cleared his throat.

“Who’s it?” A second voice mumbled, muffled by what sounded like a pillow.

“It’s my mom,” he spoke away from the speaker.

“I did wake you,” she chewed her bottom lip. “I’m so sorry, baby. How’s Katie?”

“Good,” he slowly came awake, “she’s half-asleep. What’s going on, mom?”

She stared at the piles of magic and pushed her hair back. “It’s probably nothing…”

“You’re calling at 2am,” Thierry tried and failed to stifle a yawn, “it’s clearly something. What’s wrong?”

“I think one of my objects has gone missing,” she sighed. “Could you check and make sure I didn’t leave it behind?”

“What am I looking for?”

“A bronze bracelet.”

She held her breath, listening to the rustle of fabric and the squeak of bed springs. A series of footsteps, opened doors and the spin of a combination lock passed before he started shifting objects around. She was certain she had locked the more dangerous items in paper, but she had been wrong before.

“I don’t see a bracelet,” he murmured. “Are you sure it’s in your collection? It might have been taken in one of the Saint Anne raids.”

“I’m sure the human faction has it,” she rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m sorry for waking you.” There was a pause before he spoke again; it was a habit he had picked up from her: wait and listen.

“Is everything okay, mom?”

“Its fine, honey. It’s gonna be fine. I will sort this out, and then try to find something to help that little girl and then I’ll be home,” her smile looked strained in the mirror. “How’s New Orleans?”

“Are you asking about the city, or the witches?” He chuckled. “The city is as colourful as always, and the witches are whispering about something to do with regaining their power, so its business as usual.”

“What are they whispering about?” She frowned.

“Something about enlisting an Original.”

“Me?” She guessed, though she was already on the side of magic.

“Not sure, but I’ll keep my ear to the ground and let you know if I hear a name.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “I love you.” She hoped the desperation in her eyes wasn’t clear in her voice.

“I love you, too.”

She hung up and stood, wanting to go slow – to take her time and think things through – but her muscles possessed a mind of their own and urged her to race through the dark house and into the study where she stole five of her dad’s old medical files after dumping the contents in the cabinet.

In the kitchen she gathered herbs and spices from the cupboard, candles from the drawer and a metal bowl.

Back in her room she placed the piled pages in separate folders, save for one, and spaced the candles around the room; they lit with a thought and she knelt.

Measured quantities of the herbs were poured into the bowl with precise flicks of her wrist.

This was something she could do. It was something she was good at.

She tipped one of the candles over until the dried herbs caught and bit into her wrist, allowing a few drops to fall into the flames. With her eyes closed she murmured the words that would lift the remaining fog in her head and leaned down to inhale the rising smoke.

“Dekouvri sa kit e pedi,” fragrant smoke tickled her sinuses. It washed over her in a tingling sensation that rose from her toes. She cried out as it reached her head and a blinding pain exploded behind her eyes.

She keeled over, pitching to the left and sprawling on the floor. Her wide eyes were blind to the hands that lifted her up onto the bed. Snippets of conversation floated around her, but her darting eyes were focused on something they couldn’t see or hear.

“Should we call Bonnie?” Jeremy’s eyes snapped up from his sister’s unseeing gaze.

“It looks like she did this to herself,” Alaric scrutinized the remnants of the spell.

Elena sat up suddenly with a gasp and a colourful curse that would have made a sailor blush. The candle flames flared up six inches and would have caught on her bedding if Alaric hadn’t doused that candle with the water glass beside her bed.

Jeremy grabbed her shoulders and knelt on the side of the bed to meet her eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay,” she snapped, and immediately apologized for it; it was hardly her brother’s fault. She took a deep breath and forced out the words in as calm a voice as she could manage. “I know what Esther wants.”

The instantaneous end of her children had only been the beginning. The first act in a meticulous plan to undo the evil she had unleashed on the earth with her actions.

++++

“I must admit, Kol, I am surprised at you,” Klaus frowned over his glass. “Had any other vampire picked such a fight with you a century ago you would have beaten them bloody and torn out their heart.”

“I did cause a good deal of internal bleeding,” he turned the page in his book; it was one of the many works of literature he had missed out on.

“Destroying my landscape and breaking his neck is not the same as killing him,” Klaus’ eyes narrowed. “He’s an insufferable fool, so why leave him alive?”

“You know the rules, Nik,” he rolled his eyes, “I wasn’t about to disappoint her.”

“Why did he pick a fight with you anyway?” Klaus leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the arms.

“He disliked the fact that Elena’s perfume was all over me,” he smirked.

“I told you to stay away from my doppelganger,” he growled, getting to his feet, “she is not a replacement for you to toy with.”

“I am well aware of who she is,” he didn’t look up from his book, “and she doesn’t belong to you.”

“I think you’ll find she does,” Klaus snatched the book from his grasp.

He blinked at his empty hands for a moment, working his jaw, and sighed. “I think you’ll find it has been illegal to own people in this country since 1864.”

“Stay away from her, Kol!”

He tilted his head and squinted, pretending to think about it. “No,” he hummed. “She’s good fun, and getting under your skin is a bonus.”

“Don’t be possessive, Nik,” Rebekah dropped onto the couch next to Kol, propping her feet in his lap, “they just danced.”

++++

Jeremy ducked, narrowly avoiding the balled up sheet of paper. It joined a piled of large crumpled balls in the hall.

He knelt on the floor across from Elena and held out a bag of blood. After a few days he had grown used to her shift in features and feeding habits, but he flinched when she tore into the bag with a savage bite.

She drained the bad, took a deep breath and allowed her right hand to fly across a blank page, leaving behind a series of bold runic symbols.

Jeremy leaned against the foot of her bed, watching as she repeated the same spell she had been using since the middle of the night.

“Elena?” He propped his elbow on his knee when the blood steeling in the same pattern. “Are you gonna tell me what the problem is? You said Kol wasn’t affected by the spell and neither was Rebekah. If it’s just Klaus, Elijah and the suicidal one that are going to die then I don’t see the problem.”

She opened her mouth to explain, but the words stuck on her tongue. Esther had thought everything through, everything, and this was the information she couldn’t share because it was the knowledge that would turn the tide of support firmly to the Original family.

“I can’t say,” her hands fisted her hair, pulling. She wanted to scream it at the top of her lungs, break the link and then slap Kol for coming up with that stupid bracelet in the first place; after that she would slap herself for losing it, but she could have sworn it was in her grimoire yesterday.

“I literally can’t say and it’s driving me crazy,” her head banged against the dresser.

“What can’t you say?” Bonnie picked her way down the hall, stepping between balls of paper.

“And is it a ‘can’t’ or ‘won’t’ situation?” Caroline slipped into the bedroom.

“Definitely a ‘can’t’ situation,” she groaned, closing her eyes.

“Maybe you can get it out of her,” Jeremy got to his feet, making space for the girls on the floor.

Bonnie dropped to sit cross-legged and Caroline held out a latte before joining them. Bonnie frowned at the upside down symbols that meant nothing to her.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Esther,” Elena sighed.

“Ah yes,” Caroline gave a solemn nod, “and what did the Original Witch want? I was gonna ask last night, but I got a little distracted.”

“It’s hard not to be when Stefan has to carry his ‘dead’ brother home,” Elena rolled her eyes. Maybe it would have been better to not ask Kol to spare him. She had no idea how the ritual would meet its end, but odds were it would be far more painful than anything Kol would have done. “The Original Witch Bitch wants to murder all of her children, and she used my blood to make it possible.”

Caroline’s brows drew together as she tilted her head. “Are you telling me you willingly gave your blood for a spell that’s gonna kill the guy you like?”

“No,” she cried, kicking over a bowl of herbs. “I would never help her undo the ‘evil’ she unleashed on the world. I’ve gotta find a way to undo it.”

“There’s no time to change anything,” Bonnie folded the sheet of blood soaked paper, “they’ll be dead by the end of the night.”

“What?” Elena sat up.

“Esther came to ask Abby and I to join her,” she frowned at the scattered herbs. “She’s gonna channel the celestial energy of the full moon.”

“Don’t go,” Elena wrapped her fingers around Bonnie’s wrist.

“Even if I didn’t want to it wouldn’t matter,” she pulled her hand free, “she’s channeling out entire ancestral bloodline for power.”

From downstairs she heard a knock, followed by Jeremy’s voice from the kitchen informing her that he was up to his elbows in soapy water. She stood up slowly, shaking her head.

“You don’t know what you’re doing Bonnie,” her voice shook. “You have no idea.”

She shoved her phone in her back pocket and left the room, taking the stairs two at a time and opening the door.

Her brows shot up.

“Elena,” he greeted.

“Elijah,” she bit her lip and turned a frown to a soft smile.

“I don’t mean to intrude. I was hoping you might accompany me.”

She looked back over her shoulder to where her brother was clattering in the kitchen and her friends were moving around upstairs.

“I would like to show you something,” he added hopefully.

“Sure,” she nodded. Her bracelet caught the light when she motioned to the closet. “Just let me grab my coat.”

++++

Caroline swept up the mess on the floor after the front door closed.

“I don’t get it,” she blinked, “if she didn’t give her blood then how did she get it.”

“She might have come to see me yesterday,” Bonnie stared at the floor. “She asked me to bring her something from Elena’s spell book that would help her in her quest.”

“Bonnie!”

“It was to kill Klaus,” she held out her hands. “I didn’t know she wanted to kill them all.”

“What did you give her?” She crossed her arms.

“Some kind of bracelet,” Bonnie shrugged. She picked up a blank sheet of paper and made a quick sketch. “It looked like this.”

Caroline frowned at the image as Bonnie pulled out her cell phone, and read the text.

“That’s Abby; I gotta go.”

@elejah-wonderland @elejahforever @eternityunicorn @morsmornte @fandomrulesall @xanderling @cry-btch @kol-and-elena-fanfiction @geekofmanyfandoms

Okay... So this was never part of my plan, but when I was working on the next chapter tonight I came up with a way for Kol to become human again, temporarily, before becoming like Elena with an altered version of his mother's spell. Now I'm just debating if I should do it. It would change the plot a bit, but not much.

[bitchwhoreofastorm]

That afternoon in Ald Sotha was lazy. No breeze blew, so the air was too humid and heavy for anyone to be much bothered to do anything, outside of lie on the beach. It was precisely this vital task that the noble-children had sent themselves. Sotha Sil lay on the sand a short distance from the tide, sprawled on his back with a book resting open on his face; Sotha Serlyn and his sister Kaisa sat on a rock that stood just out from the shore and played in the water that lapped it. Only Almalexia, ever the odd one out in that sunny paradise, didn't seem content with lazing about in the sun. She sat beside Sotha Sil, legs crossed, a book on her lap that she pretended to read-- but she refused to sit still, shifting her position constantly: first lying down on her back, then on her stomach, then sitting up again, then lying again but using Sil as a foot-rest.

Finally she sat up straight and gave Sotha Sil a hard poke in the side. "Seht, let's go do something."

"It's too hot." Sil replied, his voice muffled by the pages of his book.

"It's not hot. This is nothing compared to Mournhold."

"Yeah, but that's Mournhold."

"Yeah, but you're boring."

Sotha Sil didn't reply to that, so Almalexia lay down on the sand again, draping her legs over Sotha Sil's chest so that her knee 'accidentally' nudged the book askew off his face. "What's a fundamacy?"

Sotha Sil was putting the book back on his face. "Huh?"

"It's in this book your father gave to me. He said it might help me figure out why I can't cast any spells."

"Can you use it in a sentence? Also, get your legs off me, it's too hot."

"The sentence is, 'it may be the apprentice's fundamacy that hinders magical ability."

"Oh. Fundamacy." Sotha Sil gave Almalexia's legs a hard shove off of him, causing her to roll to her side. "It's the abilities you gain from your birthsign."

"You got sand in my book!"

"Well, your legs are too heavy."

Almalexia rolled back over, sitting up, resting her arm on his chest this time. "According to this book, you can't cast spells if you have the wrong fundamacy."

"Ow! Ayem, your elbow!"

"But they said that the Nords have a way, with standing stones, to give you a different fundamacy. That's interesting. Maybe I should ask them about that when I go home."

Sotha Sil shoved her off and sat up, shaking the sand from his long hair. "Your elbow is really pointy!"

"You're such a baby, Sil."

"I don't understand why you're reading that old thing. It's too hot to be studying. And we're at the beach."

Almalexia looked around them. This beach was separated from the settlement at Ald Sotha by a jut of dark rock that stretched some ways into the sea, the remnants of an old foyada. Out from the shore Kaisa had somehow procured a large crab and was using it to terrorise her brother. Before them the water was opal-blue and glittering in the slanted light of early afternoon, while behind them and stretching out to either sides the dark-green forest was still and shaded.

"I'm going to learn magic," she replied.

Sotha Sil lay back down. "Maybe you can't, though."

"Why shouldn't I?"

You can't cast any spells, can you? And you've been trying, well, all summer. Perhaps you're just incapable of it."

"I'll figure it out, Seht. I know I will." She lay down next to him. "It's just so frustrating, I never know what you're trying to say, or what your father's trying to say-- how am I meant to learn when you can't even explain things?"

"To be fair, magic is a highly complex topic. And you're not..."

Sotha Sil trailed off, then, and turned his head away.

Almalexia poked him in the ribs. "I'm not what?"

"Ah, I don't mean it as an insult."

"I'm not what."

"You're not very smart."

Almalexia's stunned silence must have alerted him to his blunder, for he sat up and quickly added: "I mean, perhaps I phrased that wrong, you're very good at many things, you just have different talents to--"

"I'm not dumb!"

"No, of course not! But, well, you're more of a warrior, you see? You like to swing swords and stuff. You don't need a ton of intelligence to swing a sword--"

Almalexia's shock had well and truly given way to righteous fury. "You think I'm a moron, don't you?"

"I didn't say that!"

"As if you're so intelligent yourself, Sil! You're not 'intelligent', you just spend all your time studying because you have no friends and no life!"

Sotha Sil's face flushed. "That's not true! I am a highly talented mage, and exceptionally gifted, father says I'm the best Ald Sotha's ever seen!"

"You are so arrogant!"

"I'm not arrogant. I'm logically assessing my own ability."

"Logically assessing, huh?" Almalexia rose to her feet and stalked off towards the forest.

"You're being irrational," Sotha Sil shouted at her back, also standing. "It's objectively true that I'm smarter!"

By now the twins had caught notice of the argument, and Kaisa appeared by his side. "Oooh, Sil, you're in trouble."

"She's gonna beat you up," Serlyn, appearing at his other side, agreed.

"She wouldn't," Sotha Sil said dismissively. "She's just having a tantrum because she's mad that she's a dumb warrior and not..."

He trailed off, because Almalexia was returning with a very large stick in hand.

She marched right up to them and stopped a few metres away. "Sotha Sil!" she yelled, pointing the stick at him, which she held by its base like a sword. "Fight me."

The twins gasped.

Sotha Sil blinked. "What?"

"If you think you're so much better than me, fight me!" Almalexia shook her stick at him.

"You're being ridiculous!"

"What, are you afraid that swords are more useful than your stupid magic after all?"

"Sil's going to get beat up by a girl," Serlyn said, prompting Kaisa to reach around Sil and hit him.

"I am not!" Sotha Sil said. He stepped forwards and looked Almalexia dead in the eye. "You're being ridiculous, because I am going to defeat you.”

Almalexia broke into a grin, a wild grin that at that moment made her look less like a princess and more like a feral kagouti preparing to devour its prey. “I’d like to see you try.”

The two teenagers stalked up the beach and found a flat patch, where they stood a short distance away from each other and facing each other, with the ocean to one side of them and the forest to the other. Almalexia dropped into fighting stance the moment they moved into position, holding her stick before her with one hand; Sotha Sil, likewise, outstretched his hand and readied a simple spell.

“You can still just admit that you’re wrong,” Sotha Sil called out to her.

“If you’re scared, Seht, I’ll graciously accept your apology now.”

“I’m not scared!”

Almalexia’s raised her ‘sword’. “Then attack, s’wit!”

She lunged forwards as she said this, raising the sword above her as she did. Sotha Sil drew his hand back, and quickly loosed the magika from it, which took the form of a vivid fireball that shot from his hand at blinding speed. It hit Almalexia square in the chest, detonating in a burst of flame.

Sotha Sil clapped both hands to his mouth. “Oh, my gods, Ayem!”

Almalexia had come to a halt immediately. “I’m fine, Seht!” she said, reassuringly, and it was true-- most of the fire had disappeared against her skin in little golden flashes, or rolled harmlessly off of her in a plume.

“Are you sure?”

“Why, are you scared? Weakling!”

And Almalexia lunged at him again, raising her ‘sword’ high over her head, preparing to bring it down over his. Sotha Sil barely managed to dodge in time-- on instinct he readied another fireball, and cast it. This time she was closer and it hit harder, actually sending her staggering back, and again the flames mostly slid off of her.

But she regained her footing and once more charged, holding her free hand in front of her chest to guard it. When Sil cast the next fireball she tried to swipe it away with that arm, and her hand cut a glowing streak through the spell, and it looked, for a moment, that the whole limb was alight, her palm wreathed in fire--

And then Sotha Sil was hit in the face by the fireball.

He found himself lying face-up on the sand-- he’d been knocked flat-- he was blinking, dazed, up at a clear blue sky unmarred by clouds. “Oh my gods,” he heard Almalexia say, and then “Seht! Are you alright?”, and then he heard footfalls, and a head of fluffy red hair appeared above his face, wide green eyes staring into his own. “Seht?”

Sotha Sil sat up. “Did you just--”

“I think-- I think so?”

“How? How did you do that? Ayem!”

“I don’t know! I just suddenly had power in my arm and I remembered what your father told me to do and I wasn’t really thinking about it, I just--” she trailed off, grabbing onto his arm. “Sehti! I cast a spell!”

“Do it again,” Sotha Sil said immediately. “Try it again.”

“What, at you?”

“Yes! Hit me.”

They rose to their feet together, and then Almalexia stepped back, screwing up her face, raising her hand…

“Come on,” Sotha SIl said impatiently. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt me, we’re Chimer. Just hit me!”

Almalexia’s arms fell. “I can’t!” she exclaimed, furious, and she rammed her foot against the sand. “I’m trying, I am, but I can’t do it anymore! I don’t know--”

Sotha Sil raised his own hand and slung a fireball at her. It exploded against her, and immediately she cast one right back at him, sending him flying back once more.

He was scrambling to his feet before he even realized he’d been knocked back, and he heard Almalexia laughing, and he found that he was laughing, too. “Ayem!”

“I did it! Seht, Seht, I did it!”

They ran to each other and embraced, both grinning and talking quickly and excitedly once more, discussing their discovery in fast voices and putting forth absurd theories. The day was still hot, far too hot for fireballs, and their clothing was singed, and even the twins had lost interest in the revelation, favouring their game in the cool waves.

***

Sotha Sohleh was enjoying the coolness and stillness of the shrine basement, dutifully plodding through a stack of overdue correspondences with various Telvanni wizards, when he was disturbed by two very distinct sets of footsteps coming down the thin staircase. He pretended not to hear them, even when his eldest son and his ward drew to a diplomatic halt next to his desk, and he could practically hear the excited energy buzzing off of them. Almalexia only stayed at Ald Sotha for about four months of every year, ostensibly for the purpose of ‘learning magic’, and while Sohleh readily welcomed Mournhold’s young princess into his own family, the fact that she managed to bring out in the timid Sil an otherwise dormant mischievousness could occasionally be… trying.

Finally Sotha Sil cleared his throat. “Father, may we speak?”

“Why, Sil! Of course we can.” Sohleh looked up from his letters, with the warmest fatherly smile he could muster. He noted, immediately, that both the children seemed… charred. That was never a good sign. And the fact that they both wore broad grins was even less so.

“Father Sotha,” said Almalexia this time, trying to look serious. “We have something to show you.”

“Well. I would love to see it, Almalexia.”

Sotha Sohleh clasped his hands on the table, and watched as the two children exchanged a long glance.

Then he watched as his son cast a fireball at the daughter of the Queen of Mournhold.

He made to jump up and intervene, but to his astonishment he saw that most of the fire disappeared against Almalexia’s skin in muted golden flashes. And she was faster than him-- the moment the fireball hit her and disappeared, she raised her hands and cast one right back at Sotha Sil, causing him to stagger back and hit the wall.

“Look!” Sotha Sil shouted giddily. “She can cast spells now!”

Almalexia, beaming, looked to him for approval. “How did I do?”

“Her form’s still really sloppy,” Sotha Sil said, “But she did it, we figured out--”

“I can only do it when he hits me, though, that’s how we figured it out, I was going to defeat him in a battle--”

“You weren’t going to defeat me, I think I defeated you, actually--”

“I sent you flying! I won that battle, Sil, your fireballs couldn’t even hurt me--”

“Astonishing,” Sohleh said wondrously. “Sign of the Atronach. How did I never think of it? This is simply astonishing!”

The children stopped their bickering. “Huh?” Almalexia asked.

“You must be the sign of the Atronach,” said Sohleh. “Those born under the Sign of the Atronach are incapable of producing their own magika, but may absorb it spells cast at them. Why, Almalexia, you must have been born in Sun’s Dusk!”

Almalexia touched her own face. “I was born in Sun’s Dusk...”

“I would suppose so. I know your mother has kept the details of your birth a secret, but this would make the most sense-- I should have thought of it! You aren’t incapable of wielding magic, you’ve simply never had any to draw on!”

Almalexia broke into a smile and turned to Sotha Sil. “See? I can wield magic.”

“Only if you get hit with a spell first,” Sotha Sil replied. “Plus we don’t know that you can do anything other than fireballs. Fireballs are a baby’s spell. An infant could cast a fireb--”

A fireball detonated in his face, and before the smoke cleared, Almalexia was already running up the staircase, laughing. With a cry of ‘Ayem!’ Sotha Sil set off after her immediately, and Sotha Sohleh found himself once more in a still, if no longer quite as cool, basement.

With a patient sigh, Sohleh picked up a clean sheet of paper and began a new letter:

“Dearest Amun-Shae,

I am pleased to let you know that your daughter’s studies are progressing well. You’ll have to excuse the burn-marks on this parchment…”

[sserpente]

In a heartbeat (Chapter 18)

A/N: Heyho there my lovelies! 12 days left until we get to see Infinity War. Who’s gonna die with me?

Find all chapters on my masterlist!

Hidden in between two Asgardian teens, you flipped Loki’s dagger in your hand and kept peeking outside. He was gracious. You had seen him fight before but this… this was beyond impressive and although you knew Loki was closer to being invincible than anyone else could be in a battle, you feared for his life, flinching and jerking on the spot every single time he barely managed to dodge a deadly blow. One of the teens threw you a compassionate look.

You could hide here on this spaceship like a coward and have another panic attack… or you could go out there, make use of what Loki had taught you and fight with him.

Would that be wise? Would you be able to jump over your own shadow and defeat that little monster inside you, the one tossing you into numbing panic attacks? You couldn’t rely on Loki to protect you while he was busy saving his own arse. Those skeletons were merciless, yet the longer you watched the God of Mischief fight for his home planet, the more your own bravery grew.

Unceremoniously, you scattered away from your hiding spot. The Ark had not taken off yet, there were still people climbing on board. This was your chance. You slid off the ramp rather clumsily, your knee colliding with the hard ground. The Rainbow Bridge underneath your feet sparkled with the impact but there was no time to admire its beauty. Loki was only a few feet away, busy fighting off two skeletons at the very same time. There was another one behind him, growling angrily at him for killing its mates.

Focusing, you got in position. You can do this. Remember what Loki told you. When you threw the dagger, it sliced through the air like a samurai sword. Practising had paid off—the already dead soldier fell to the ground, his weapons falling to his feet with a loud clatter.

Loki turned on his heel. His reproachful look was both intimidating and arousing when he spotted you standing there only a few feet away from him.

“Did I not tell you to stay on the ship?!” He bellowed, hissing like a snake as he did.

“You did. Thank me later for saving your life.”

Loki rolled his eyes before boring his dagger into another skeleton. But then, with a start, he began to smirk and shake his head, causing electricity to curse through your veins and fill you with enough adrenaline to dodge one of Hela’s soldiers yourself and kick him in the guts. Loki’s teaching had paid off, after all.

“Look at you, little minx. You were but a terrified kitten when I first met you. Now you are a lioness.”

You were giggling. Giggling like a little school girl! Had Loki just complimented you? A lioness. He had called you a lioness. Biting your lower lip, you opened your mouth to reply, when suddenly, his face fell, startling you to the core.

He shot forward before you were able to react, his body forcing yours to the ground. You fell to the ground hard, the sparkling rainbow bridge beneath you almost cracking with the impact when you heard dozens of rocks tumbling to the very spot you had been standing in—Hela had driven swords into the Ark. Giant, massive blades which had torn them up in the water.

Gasping, you sought out his gaze. Now you were even.

He was hovering above you, his whole body covering yours. Running his fingers through your hair, his blue eyes locked with yours.

“T-thank you…” You breathed. Only mere inches separated his lips from yours, the whole world around you stopping. The noise of battle, explosion, weapons and devastated citizens melted to a dull background sound.

Kiss me, oh please… kiss me.

It was like he was bewitched, unable to draw away from you. Loki’s lips grazed yours in a desperate attempt to taste you, both of you captured in this bubble of emotions neither of you properly comprehended.

Kiss me… just kiss me!

Instead, another skeleton almost impaled him. “Loki, watch out!”

Breathing out loudly, he rolled you both over, missing the spear by only a foot.

“Get on the ship now!” He ordered again as he helped you back on your feet. Only this time you would listen. The Ark was attempting to take off, your magical moment was over and had cruelly been ripped from you.

Reality was slapping you in the face and awakening the adrenaline in your body once more. If you did not make it on the ship… you might not make it at all.

“Loki!” Pausing, he looked at you. “Be careful.” He nodded—then, he was gone again.

One of the Asgardians gladly helped you on board right before the pilot managed to free it from Hela’s swords to keep it from leaving.

Hopefully, Loki and the others would make it in time too.

Your fingers, absentmindedly, travelled to your lips to where Loki had touched them with his. He had wanted to kiss you. You had read it in his eyes—although he had not quite understood it himself, so it seemed, almost as if he did not comprehend his feelings for you. Did he have feelings for you? Or had it been the heat of the moment? Why was all of this so complicated?

You never noticed how your breathing grow heavier with every moment passing, not that an elder man lightly touched your shoulder to ask if you were alright—only that at some point, everything around you blackened.

When you woke up again, you felt a warm blanket wrapped around you tightly. Faint voices around you were talking to each other quietly, some of them relieved, others devastated and some tragically sad. Tediously, you opened your eyes to face a grey ceiling—the Ark! You were still on the spaceship. Had you had a panic attack, again? You cursed when you tried to stand. It took your body a while to regain its balance.

“You’re awake. Please, drink some water.” An elder woman with braids in her brown hair approached you with a sly smile, handing you a cup filled with water. You took it sheepishly, your fingers shaking a little in the process. Only now did you realise your hand was bandaged. She had to be a healer, presumably took care of the open wounds on the back of your hand. When you reached up to feel the cut on your cheek, there was nothing there either.

“What happened?” You creaked, your throat terribly dry. Quickly, you took a few sips, enjoying with relish how the cold water felt on your tongue.

“You fainted—all of this…” She motioned around her. “…it is much, I understand. I took care of your injuries. You are (Y/N), are you not? The human girl, you were with the princes.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you blushed, embarrassed by your ridiculous reaction. Panic attacks were one thing, you couldn’t exactly help them… but fainting like a little princess?

“At least we are safe. This is all that matters.”

Loki. Where was Loki? With your heart in your mouth, you thanked the healer for patching you up and then hurried out of the room back to the other Asgardians, ignoring her protest. You spotted the Hulk and Valkyrie among them, yet Thor or Loki were nowhere to be found.

“Valkyrie!” The dark-haired woman turned, her face darkening upon seeing you moving clumsily through the crowd. “Have you seen Thor? Is L—“

“East wing,” she interrupted you with a fake smile. Rolling your eyes, you disappeared again. Yes, you still hated that bitch.

Finding the east wing proved to be a lot harder than assumed though—where was east anyway? You were in bloody space!

When you finally reached a slim hallway with several metal doors leading to what you assumed to be bedrooms and en-suites, you tried the one that was open already, a small beam of light shining onto the metal floor.

“Thor?”

“(Y/N)!” Smiling weakly, the God of Thunder turned. He was wearing an eye patch.

“Your eye…?”

He simply shrugged it off. “It’s alright. How are you?”

“Thor… where is Loki?”

“He was in the vault when Surtur… I don’t know, (Y/N).”

When Surtur what? Who was Surtur? What had he done? I don’t know. Was he not on the ship?! Panic stroke your body like a tidal wave, your heart instantly speeding up to compete with a steam hammer.

“Tell me what happened. I blacked out, I… last thing I remember is that we took off and then… nothing.”

The Thunderer’s expression darkened. Resigned, he faced the metal ground when he spoke up again.

“Asgard was destroyed. We caused Ragnarok to stop Hela…”

“What happened to her? Is she…?”

“She is dead. Loki went to resurrect Surtur by putting his crown into the Eternal Flame, which Odin kept in the treasure vault…”

“And then?!” You shrieked. Thor frowned. You didn’t even care about him finding out about your true feelings for him, not right now, not anymore.

“He might have still been on the planet when it exploded.” There was something else he wanted to say but didn’t—probably only to spare you.

I don’t even know if he is still alive…

Shattered, you lost your balance once more. You leaned against the metal wall to keep yourself standing upright, fighting to keep your lower lip still all the while listening to your rapid panting.

“W-where is he?” Thor fell silent.

“I’m here.” Your heart jumped when you heard another, smooth and cheeky voice right behind you. Turning on your heel, you breathed out audibly before starting at him and throwing yourself straight into his arms. Loki smiled, you could feel his lips curling upwards against your neck when he wrapped you in a tight hug and buried his face in your hair for a while. Thor only stood there, amazed and flabbergasted by the odd image before his eye.

Loki still held you in his arms when he looked up to meet his curious gaze. “It suits you.” He said, referring to his eye patch.

“Perhaps you’re not so bad after all, brother.”

“Maybe not,” he gave back, smirking wickedly in the process.

“Thank you. You know, I might even give you a hug too.”

Loki’s smirk grew wider, playfully. “I’ll pass.”

Finally, you let go of the God of Mischief but still held on to him by placing your palm against his chest. You had grown to love the feeling of his leather armour underneath your hands so much, a relieved sigh escaped your lips.

“Thor told me Asgard was destroyed,” you murmured barely audible. “I’m so sorry.”

You could feel his arm around your waist, keeping you close and safe. It hit you once more—he’s alive. You were both alive. You had both made it out of this hell. It was over. Finally.

“How did you make it off the planet?” Thor continued then.

Loki’s smirk widened. “Some mysteries shall remain unsolved, brother.”

A childish giggle escaped your lips, your whole body filling up with happiness hormones. “Where are we going now?”

“You will be delighted, little minx. Valkyrie just kindly let me know that we are going back to Earth.”

Your heart jumped once more. He had kept his promise. “Norway, to be precise—the very place Odin died. Our people will settle on the fjord, there will be much to do.” He explained calmly. “Besides, Thor has to prepare for a coronation, am I right, brother?” The slight bitterness in his voice did not go unnoticed. Crestfallen, you remembered what he had told you all those nights ago in the battered plane wreck on Sakaar—how much he himself longed to be king.

Thor��s next words, however, surprised you. “There will not be one.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Frowning, your gaze wandered back to him. The Thunderer paused, his lips parting. For a while, he said nothing, only his desperate sighing filling the quiet room and somehow drowning out the deafening roaring of the engines of the spaceship.

When he finally opened his mouth again, both Loki’s and your heart seemed to stop altogether.

“I want you to keep the throne, Loki.”

A/N: WElCOME TO POST-RAGNAROK, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!

[swanqueeneverafter]

53. A Bitter Case, Pt.3

Storybrooke. Present. Crash Site. (Henry and Regina walk through the dirigible crash site.) Henry: “I know you think this was your fault, Mom.” Regina: “That's not it, Henry. I stood up in Granny's and told everyone from the Land of Untold Stories not to be afraid. I can't let this story play out like this, not when I'm the one who started it all.” (Regina gasps as they come upon the body of Charlotte laying dead on the ground.) Henry: “Mom.” Regina: (Kneeling beside her, sighs:) “He poisoned her with the poison I gave him.” (Regina attempts to touch the girl, but a flash of light keeps her away.) Henry: “Mom, are you okay?” Regina: (Looking down at her hand:) “What the hell was that? What the hell is going on?!” Evil Queen: (Appearing across from them:) “The handmaiden's story finally caught up with her. Just like yours is catching up with you. Miss me? (To Henry:) Hi, sweetie. Mommy's back.” Regina: (Stands:) “I killed you.” Evil Queen: “Did you really think it would be that easy?” Henry: “Mom.” Regina: (Stands in front of him:) “Get behind me, Henry.” Evil Queen: “After everything I did for you, after everything we accomplished together, you threw me away like I never existed.” Regina: “No, I threw you away because you existed. (Attempts to conjure a fireball, but is unable to sustain it:) What the hell?” Evil Queen: “I laced the girl's cloak with a magic dampening spell.” Regina: “I should have known. You've been controlling the Count this whole time.” Evil Queen: “Well, of course I have. (Magics the Count’s heart into her hand:) I don't leave things to chance.” Regina: “That's why he didn't want my help. That's why he said I couldn't stop him.” Evil Queen: “You ordered the Count to kill Snow and Charming all those years ago, so now... that's exactly what he's going to do. (Chuckles:) You should be thanking me.” (The Evil Queen disappears in a cloud of smoke.)

Storybrooke Docks. (The Charmings continue to search for the Count at the docks. Turning a corner, they find him.) Snow White: (As he draws his sword:) “Edmond.” David: (With his hands up:) “Edmond, come on. This is all just a big misunderstanding.” Edmond: “Oh, you have no idea.” (Edmond swings his sword, causing the Charmings to duck to avoid him.) David: (Rolling to his feet:) “Edmond, we can explain everything.” Snow White: “The Queen's our friend. She's changed. She doesn't want you to do this.” Edmond: “That's where you're wrong. She does.” (David grabs a trash can lid and swings at the Count, who blocks the strike but is then hit by Snow in the arm. Staggered, Edmond falls to the floor after a strike from David.) David: “Then why are you doing this?” Edmond: “Because she has my heart!” (The Count returns to his feet and attacks them anew. Momentarily subduing the Count, David questions him.) David: “Who, Edmond? Who has your heart?” Edmond: “The Evil Queen.” (Edmond attacks again.) David: “It doesn't matter. We'll find a way to stop her. (They knock the Count to the floor once more:) We always do.” Edmond: (Regaining his footing:) “I hope so... (Cuts a rope, sending barrels flying towards the Charmings, knocking them down and out:) because this isn't the ending I wished for any of us.”

Enchanted Forest. Castle Cellar. Past. (Edmond slams the carafe on the table and pulls out the bottle of venom. He stares at it before a voice rattles him.) Rumplestiltskin: “Having second thoughts? (Edmond draws his sword but is quickly disarmed. Giggles:) No need for that, dearie. Tell me... why didn't you poison Snow White and Prince Charming?” Edmond: “I was prepared to poison them, but... I saw Charlotte, and she reminded me of...” Rumplestiltskin: “Your fiancée? Yeah, yeah, I-I-I can see that. I mean, before she became a rotting corpse. Your love and... and the handmaiden share the same je ne sais quoi, n'est pas?” Edmond: “She didn't deserve to die. And if I had killed her just to get my revenge, I'd be no better than my enemies.” Rumplestiltskin: “Yes, yes. But... but Snow White and Prince Charmy-warmy, you gonna try again?” Edmond: “No. They don't deserve to die either.” Rumplestiltskin: “Hm.” (Snaps fingers and a thud is heard.) Edmond: “What was that?” Rumplestiltskin: “My insurance policy. Let's just say in order for my plan to work, I need Prince Charming and Snow White very much alive and procreating. Sorry for the bluntness, but I need what I need. So that means I must make sure that you're never tempted to kill them ever again.” Edmond: (Confused, he checks behind the barrels to find Charlotte lying on the floor, poisoned:) “Charlotte? (The Dark One giggles:) Why? If you didn't want me to kill them, kill me, not her!” Rumplestiltskin: “Would that I could, dearie.” Edmond: (Breathing heavily:) “Where's the antidote?” Rumplestiltskin: (Chuckling:) “Antidote? There isn't any. There's no cure for this poison. No, no, no. But it can be stopped.” (Holding up a key.) Edmond: “A key?” Rumplestiltskin: “This isn't any old key. This is the key to the land where all stories come to a screeching halt, including Charlotte's story. You know the one... where the poison reaches her heart.” (The Dark One indicates a doorway.) Edmond: “I go through there, she lives?” Rumplestiltskin: “Indeed! As long as you remain there. If you should ever leave, her story and the poison shall r-r-resume. And I hate to spoil the ending, but it's really quite tragic.” Edmond: “Then it's settled.” (Rumplestiltskin giggles and opens the portal while Edmond stoops to lift Charlotte into his arms.) Storybrooke Docks. Present. (Edmond slowly approaches the unconscious Charmings.) Edmond: “I'm sorry. All I wanted was a fresh start.” (The Count raises his sword to strike, but is blocked by Regina.) Regina: “You can still get one. (They duel:) Listen, I know the Evil Queen has your heart, but you can fight this.”

Edmond: “I've tried to fight! I can't!” (They duel once more, neither of them backing down.) Regina: “Your story doesn't have to end like this.” Edmond: “My story ended the moment the Queen plucked us from the Land of Untold Stories! (Regina knees him in the gut:) Oh! Ow!” Regina: “You mean Charlotte? I'm sorry. I was too late.” Edmond: “So the poison finally took her.” (They separate.) Regina: “I may not have been able to save her, but I am going to save you. (The Count advances, knocking her to the ground. Sitting up, Regina attempts to throw a fireball but fails:) Henry, call Emma! I could use some of her magic right about now!” Henry: (Trying to use his phone, only to find it enchanted:) “I can't! It's the Queen! She did something.” (Gaining the advantage, the Count disarms Regina. Turning his back on her, Edmond stalks towards the Charmings.) Regina: (Retrieving her sword:) “Stop! Please.” Edmond: (Continues to advance:) “This is the only way.” (Out of options, Regina screams as she hurls the sword at the Count’s back, impaling him. Edmond falls to the floor, dead.) Regina: (Rushing over to check on him:) “No!” Henry: (Following:) “Mom, Mom. Are... are you okay?” Regina: (Voice breaking:) “I'm so sorry.” Henry: “Mom.” Regina: (Clasps her son’s hand:) “Henry.” Henry: “Mom. You did what you had to.” (The Charmings regain consciousness as Regina sobs.)

David: “Edmond.” Snow White: “No.” Regina: “I had no choice.” Evil Queen: (Appearing:) “No, that's not true.” Snow White: (Standing:) “She is back.” Regina: “I couldn't just stand by and watch the Count kill my friends.” Evil Queen: “Oh, I thought heroes always found a third way... unless, of course, this means you're not a hero.” (She laughs.) Regina: (Runs and lunges at the queen:) “I will rip your heart out!” Evil Queen: “Yes! That's the Regina I remember. We do like it rough, don't we?” Regina: (Pushing the queen away:) “You didn't want the Count to kill Snow and David. You wanted me to kill him.” Evil Queen: “Well, it was the only way to show you that no matter what you do... the darkness will always be inside. And that tiny bit of darkness I awakened today is only going to grow.” Snow White: (Walking forward:) “Don't listen to her, Regina.” Evil Queen: “Snow... White.” David: (Protectively:) “Snow.” Snow White: “No, I'm not afraid of her. We defeated you before. We'll do it again.” Evil Queen: “Oh, I'm not the one who's going to destroy your... happy endings. Not this time.” Regina: “Then who is?” Evil Queen: “You. You're going to destroy everyone's happy endings.” Snow White: “You won't divide this family.” Evil Queen: “Oh, I won't have to. The people from the Land of Untold Stories aren't the only ones with tales they don't want told. And when your stories finally play out (Chuckles:) I'll just sit back and watch you (Singsongy voice:) tear yourselves apart.” (The Evil Queen chuckles and then vanishes.) Granny’s Diner. (Having regrouped at the diner, Emma, Snow and Regina share a booth.) Snow White: (Watching as Regina downs her drink:) “Regina, it's not your fault.” Regina: (Chuckles:) “Right.” Emma: “She trapped you. You didn't have a choice.” Regina: “Of course I had a choice. I could have kept the Evil Queen inside, where she was my problem.” Emma: “No. This is exactly what she wants. She wants you to doubt yourself.” Regina: “She's doing a hell of a job.” Emma: (Placing a consoling hand on Regina’s:) “I spoke with Jekyll earlier and he’s pretty optimistic about finding a way to stop the Evil Queen. And Mr. Hyde for that matter.” Snow White: “Look, Regina, this may be new for you, but I've faced the Evil Queen before, and I never once did it by running away. We have to face her head on, get ahead of her plan.” Regina: “And how exactly do we do that?” Snow White: “I don't know. This is the one time we are going to ask you to please think like the Evil Queen. What did she mean when she said we all have stories we don't want told?” (At this moment, Emma’s hand shakes again and the vision flashes before her.) Regina: “Emma. Are you okay?” Emma: (Sighs:) “Yeah, I'm fine.” Regina: “Remind me to have a word with the Cricket. Clearly whatever he’s doing isn’t working.” Emma: “It’s not Archie it’s just... please, just drop it for now, OK?”

(Just then, the door bells jingle and Belle enters the diner.) Belle: “Hey, does... does anyone know...” Emma: “Belle. (Springs to her feet:) You're here, and you're awake.” Belle: “Yeah, and I need a place to stay.” Regina: “What about Gold?” Belle: “We're, uh... we're not together at the moment. So, I thought maybe Granny would have a room.” Emma: “Oh, I would not wish those mattresses on my worst enemy. We'll find you something better.” Henry: “How about our place? (To Belle:) You are family, after all.” Belle: “Oh, I... wouldn’t want to put you guys out.” Emma: “No, no, it’ll be great... right ‘Gina?” Regina: (Hesitates, looks to Henry then smiles:) “Of course, you’re welcome to stay with us anytime.” Belle: “Really? T-that’s great, thanks guys.” Henry: “Come on, I’ll walk you home.” (Henry and Belle leave the diner as Emma and Regina exchanged bemused looks before following.) Storybrooke General Hospital. Psychiatric Ward. Hyde’s Cell. (Mr. Hyde sits finishing a meal as the Evil Queen paces the room.) Mr. Hyde: “Oh, it's hard to try to stay one step ahead of yourself. Isn't it, your Majesty?”  Evil Queen: “It won’t be easy, that’s for sure. The dampening spell I used on Regina will have worn off by now and even I’m no match for both of their combined powers.” Mr. Hyde: “You mean Regina and the Savior? (Sniffs:) I managed to survive it.” Evil Queen: “Really? And just how did you manage that?” Mr. Hyde: “If you're asking for my help. The price of information has gone up. (Chains rattling:) I will be of little use to you from inside this cell, milady.” Evil Queen: “Well, in that case. (The queen magically removes the cuffs from Hyde’s wrists:) Let's take a walk.” (The cell door springs open and, arm in arm, Mr. Hyde and the Evil Queen walk through the door to freedom.)

[conifertwins]

Armed and Ready - 4/?

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

Star sat at her desk, poring over Stories of the First People a second time, then a third, trying her best to look for any scrap of useful information. Each story – if you could call them that – seemed like little more than nursery rhymes or fables. The longer ones had weird endings, but nothing indicating where older, wild magic might exist.

She slammed the book closed, grunting in frustration. “Why did I think this would help,” she moaned. “Of course, it’s nothing more than a bunch of children’s stories. It’s a children’s book. Now what am I going to do?” She zapped a pillow onto her desk, letting her head rest on its fluff as it materialized. She enjoyed landing on pillows just as they started to take shape. They were always so soft and cool in that moment before becoming corporeal.

“Globgor?” Glossaryk crawled across the front of the book, looking intently at the gilt scrollwork.

“Globgor,” Star sighed. She felt tired. She felt useless. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, mistaking her weary face for her mother’s for a split second before realizing it was her reflection. Huh. I wonder if this is what it’s like to be queen.

“Call from… Tom.”

Star let her lips flap together as she exhaled. Resigned to the call, she flopped like a rag doll to an upright position. “All right, mirror. I’m answering.”

Tom’s image popped into view. “Star! It just so happened that I was headed out to the Sandwich Dimension, and I was wondering if you’d like to… hey, wait. Is everything all right?”

Aw, he really does care. She smiled at the thought. She’d really come to appreciate how much he’d grown over the past few months. “Yeah, Tom. I’m… well, I guess I’m not all right. I’m trying to help Marco with a pretty big problem.”

“Oh yeah? What trouble did he get into now?”

Star let out an indignant huff. “He’s not gotten himself into any trouble! Most of the time, he doesn’t get himself into trouble at all! He gets other people – like me – out of trouble! He’s… he’s not some goofball sidekick, Tom!”

“Whoa, whoa. Hey, Starshine… c'mon. I was joking.”

“I’m sorry, Tom. It’s not your fault,” she said, leaning her head against the mirror. “It’s mine.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well….” She started to gesture with her hands, as though the words would come if only she could corral them. In the absence of that, she decided to simply let herself talk, hopeful that she’d find a way to frame things without making an even bigger mess. “So about a year ago, Marco broke his arm. And, you know, being a magical princess and having a book of spells and trying to be his friend, I tried to fix his arm, so he could compete in a karate contest thing. I don’t know. It was important at the time. And… well… instead of fixing his arm, I kinda… uh….” She trailed off, realizing there was no good way to frame this situation. But I have to be able to tell him these things. I mean, he’s supposed to help me through stuff like this, right?

Tom leaned in, waiting for Star to finish her sentence. “Star? What… what did you do?”

She ran the heel of her palm against her eyes, in an attempt to keep away any wayward tears. “I… kinda turned his arm into a monster.”

“You what?” He fell forward, hitting his head against the mirror on his end. “Ow! Hey, wow. Star, you turned his arm into a monster?”

“I turned it back,” she snapped. “I just had to figure out how to do it. And, well, it’s sort of come back for… revenge or something. Anyhow, Marco is having a tough time, and I really want to sort this out before it eats his bowels or something like that.”

“Oh wow. Wow! You… you really screwed that up.” He scratched at the back of his head. “I’m sorry… I’m just trying to process this.”

“Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence and all that, Tom. I’m gonna….”

“No, wait,” he said, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I’ve just never heard of anything like that. Even out of all of the magical mistakes I’ve ever heard about… even the ones in the history books… wow. I mean, it’s pretty messed up.”

“I know I messed up, Tom!”

“No, no… you’re fine. The situation is messed up,” he pointed out, in an attempt to comfort. “I’m….” He looked away for a second, before meeting her eyes. “I’m sorry this is happening. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“Aw, you mean it?”

“Yeah! Sure! Marco’s my friend, too. And, hey, don’t be too hard on yourself,” he smiled. “I mean, clearly this happened before you got your act together, right?”

Star took a second to blink. “Really, Tom?” Her voice fell flat, squashing his enthusiasm.

She could see the wheels spinning in Tom’s head, his sudden urge to backpedal. "No, wait. What I meant to say was….”

“Ugh,” she fumed, ending the call. “Mirror, mirror, block all calls for an hour.” Star began to pace, trying to channel her frustration into each step, as her feet landed on the floor. Before long, she was stomping, each step reverberating through her room. Shaking with anger, she began to rehash the end of the conversation, afraid that Tom was more right than wrong. “This clearly happened before you got your act together, right,” she mocked. “Clearly, you have your act together now, but before… geez, Star, you were such a hot mess.” She kicked at a pile of stuffed animals on the floor. “Good thing you have your act together now, Star. We can’t have you making any screw-ups like that, now that you’re on the path to queen.”

“Globgor?”

Star turned to Glossaryck. He looked scared and confused. “Oh… oh, come here, Glossaryck,” she said, scooping him up. “I’m not mad at you. I’m….” She sighed, holding him close. “I’m mad at myself.”

Glossaryck climbed out of her arms and jumped back to the book. “Globgor,” he exclaimed, pointing at the pastedown at the back of the book.

“What are you pointing at,” she asked, leaning in to get a better view of the inner back cover of the book. An odd edge was barely visible on the back cover. She looked at the inside front cover to find it flat, flush with the binding. Turning her attention to the inside back cover once more, she ran her finger along the edge. Her eyes widened. “Glossaryck! Good boy.”

Star ran to a small box on the shelf, pulling out a jeweled stiletto. She ran the blade against the nearly invisible edge underneath the pastedown, separating it from the rest of the book. “I hope you can forgive me, Buff Frog,” she whispered, “but this… is gonna be worth it.”

She deftly pulled out a small envelope. Squinting, she made out the cramped handwriting. “‘To my Yvgeny.’” Star gasped, causing Glossaryck to gasp as well. “It’s a letter to Buff Frog,” she said, turning to Glossaryck. “From his… well, probably from his grandmama,” she mused, looking at the front, then the back of the envelope. “But who hides a letter in a book?”

She shrugged. “Then again, who hides a book behind a mud wall? Who knows why monsters do what they do at all?” Looking over the edge of the envelope, she glanced at Glossaryck, her eyes wide with anticipation. “Whaddaya think, Glossy? Should I… open it?”

He raised his hands up in response. “Globgor.”

“I’m takin’ that as a 'yes,’” she said, as she tore open the envelope.

The letter was written on thin, fine parchment, nearly as thin as an onion’s skin. She gingerly unfolded it, smoothing it out across the desk. It was written in a very old dialect used by the aquatic and semi-aquatic residents of Mewni. Star translated aloud.

“'My dearest Ygveny…’ whew! Got that right,” she said, proud of herself. “'I knew you would find the… the…’ oh! 'The letter when the time was…’ uh, proper? No, right. 'When the time was right.’”

She snickered. “Well, maybe not, but… Grandmama doesn’t need to know that, am I right? Let’s see. Now, where was I? Oh yeah. 'This can only mean the Mewmans have come for you. You must…’ preserve? Protect! 'You must protect yourself and… your… your family. They will… kill… you all.’”

Star frowned. “Not anymore, Grandmama.” She thought about all of the work that still had to be done, all of the wrongs that had to be righted. She thought about Marco’s insistence that monsters weren’t all bad and how she tried to prove him wrong. She felt shame begin to well up in her, the shame of a life spent fighting monsters, pushing them back, keeping them at bay. I will deal with this later, she chided herself, before taking a deep breath in an attempt to regain her focus.

“Okay… 'you will need help to defeat the Mewman… queen.’ Right, right… defeat the Mewman queen. Yadda, yadda. 'To do that, you must… you must go through the… the lily pads?’ What? ‘Remember to read each of your favorite bedtime stories. Love always, Grandmama.’”

Star looked at the letter, turning it over. “That’s it? That’s… that’s all there is? Go through the lily pads? What the heck does she mean, go through the lily pads? Is there a portal to a lily pad dimension, or is there a special lily pad? C'mon, Grandmama. Don’t let me down now!”

She examined the letter and its envelope several times, holding it up to the light, rubbing it with lemon juice, attempting to feel if certain areas of the letter were raised, but to no avail. She sat at the foot of her bed, dejected, when Glossaryck pushed the book toward her.

He pointed at the book. “Globgor.”

“Not now, Glossaryck.”

“Globgor,” he said, opening the book to a chapter.

“Glossaryck,” she whined. “Not now. I have to… I don’t know… go through all of the lily pads in Mewni.” She felt her lip quiver at the thought of that task. “Do you think anyone’s bothered to keep a record of them? Or alphabetize them? Or sort them from largest to smallest?”

“Globgor,” he yelled, stamping his feet.

“Glossaryck,” Star gasped. “We do not raise our voice in this house!”

He rolled his eyes at her, pointing to the page. “Glob. Gor.”

Star grabbed the book, holding it up. “What is so important that… that… oh!” Star noticed that every paragraph in the book started with an ornate capital letter, a letter that was placed squarely in the middle of an equally ornate, gilded lily pad.

Star began to point to each of the ornate capitals in the book. “Glossaryck! Look… look at this! I have to talk to Buff Frog! I have to… I have to talk to Marco! I have to….” She stopped to look at Glossaryck, who was looking at her expectantly. “I have to get you a jumbo-sized jar of pudding, all for yourself!”

“Glob…gor,” he cheered.

[thesniffler]

1/2: I ship you with Remus Lupin (I would say neville but that's too easy). I feel like Remus & Neville both have that shy persona so you would still be attracted to Remus for that same personality. Also I feel like as Remus is self conscious about his scars and he finds out you have body image issues and anxiety, he would be your rock and constantly have admiration for you. Since you like in-home dates, Remus would always be up for staying in to cuddle and watch a movie.

SHIPS FOR KISSES - CLOSED

“2/2: I’m a straight Ravenclaw girl. My favorite Hogwarts activity would either be hanging out in the common room so I could interact with my house after the days classes or the library so I could help others studies interact with other house, etc. I’m most attracted to Neville and could I get a first kiss that leads into a bit of a make out session, if you don’t mind. If you have to choose one or the other I’m fine with that!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally I get to yours my lovely! Yes, I do suppose Neville would be a far too easy pick but I love Remus almost as much as I do him so thank you so much!!

Not gonna lie. This one kind of got away from me. They aren’t usually this long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You fumbled with the books in your hand, stack only seeming to grow larger as you gathered more into your arms. Once the tower of work reached nearly seven high you figured you’d gotten enough and the if you tried to take any more Madam Pince would likely scream you out of her library for good.

It wasn’t like it was your fault, you hadn’t offered to be a tutor, but Professor Flitwick had deemed you the only one capable of helping a certain Gryffindor student pass. This would be your fifth session with Neville and you wouldn’t admit to yourself that your stomach was fluttering unrepentantly.

He was just, he was so completely sweet about everything. Almost to an unrealistic level. You were sure that if he were there in the library, watching you struggle under the weight of the books you’d both be pouring over in the Gryffindor common room, he’d likely take the whole lot with nothing more than a smile. He was constantly apologizing when he didn’t understand basic theory to the point where even you wanted to cry because he just looked so earnest.

It was more than that though…

It was the way that he would smile, crooked, at you from across the great hall and give an almost aborted half wave. How he could look so concentrated when reading about plants, his brow furrowed just slightly. Or the way that he fidgeted with the corners of books, index finger and thumb bending the tips of the pages just slightly as though even his hands were excited to get to the next page.

It was the color of his eyes, and the way that he always seemed to manage to get all the foam from a mug of butterbeer on his face, how he never drank tea unless it had honey, how when he was listening, really listening, he’d lean in like it the most important thing he could ever be hearing.

In the three weeks that you’d been Neville Longbottom’s personal tutor you’d noticed quite a bit about him.

You hadn’t realized you’d stopped in the middle of an aisle, the books like lead bricks in your hand until you heard the shrill and annoyed cough of the bird like librarian. You colored slightly before rushing out, doing your best to make sure that the volumes on defensive and warding charms didn’t tumble to the ground.

You reached the Gryffindor common room by the time that your arms were about to give out on you.

“Murtlap Venom,” you said quickly, the Fat Lady, realizing the severity of your predicament, used to seeing the same with another one of her charges, sung open promptly and allowed you inside.

Neville was the only one in the common room, other still in late classes or hanging around the great hall, making plans for the next Quidditch game that was only a few days away. His eyes had snapped to the portrait hole, and upon noticing it was you and the struggle you were having under the sheer amount of books you were currently carrying, went to stand.

“No, no, I’ve got this.” You called out to him as you stepped quickly toward the table Neville had set in front of the softly roaring fireplace. He care closer regardless, arms out stretched to pull at least some of the weight from your arms. It seemed as though fate were being particularly mocking as your foot caught the lip of one of the many carpets that lined the ground of the expansive room and you went careening forward. Thankfully, Neville seemed a lot more sturdy, as he caught you by your arms, books thumping against his chest as he kept you mostly upright.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his and you swallowed, air caught uncomfortably in your throat as you continued to stare. Neville’s slightly parted lips ticked up at the corners, the tips of his ears coloring pink as he set you back right, removing the books from your arms without words.

“Uh, thanks,” you rubbed the back of your neck self consciously before going to the table, rolling your wrists as you went, happy that your arms were slowly regaining feeling once again.

“Yeah, course.” Neville responded, going to sit crossed legged on the ground at the table, leaving plenty of space for you like usual. You settled into the space and made a grab for the first book catching the brunette’s eyes and smiling softly. The flush from Neville’s ears seemed to crawl steadily towards his cheeks as he returned your small smile.

A fluttering started in your chest but you stamped it down stubbornly as you reached across the table for the first book on the stack.

“So do you remember what we went over in class monday?” Your flipped the book open toward the section you knew you’d need, already prepared for the sorry that was floating from Neville’s mouth. You turned your eyes to him and noted that he looked almost ashamed as he always did. Instead of fluttering your heart clenched.

You tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder, the warmth from hiso body radiating through his clothing and onto your skin.

“It’s alright Neville, that’s why I’m here yeah?” You tried you best at a reassuring smile and he seemed to perk up just a bit before leaning toward the open book on the table. With some force of will you removed your hand from his shoulder and began going over the book, the tutoring session starting.

For close to an hour you sat there, trying your hardest to explain the concept of wordless protective charms and how it was to use them as you’d all tried in class.

You’d tried your hardest to explain, it was, for the most part, a simple concept for most, but something just wasn’t clicking for Neville and you were running out of book material and examples.

You slumped slightly, shoulders rolling forward, forehead landing with a hollow thunk onto one of the now many open books on the table.

“I’m sorry Y/N… I just… I don’t…” you sighed and picked your head up, an understanding smile on your lips.

“I get it Neville, honest, I might be a Ravenclaw but even I’m rubbish at some subjects. It’s just about finding the right example.” Something floated around in your mind, your words slowed as you tried grasping at the free flowing thought. Your eyes went bright and wide. You’d got it!

Plants! Why hadn’t you thought of it earlier!

“Neville, where’s that book you were showing me the other day?” Your newly invigorated tone seemed to pull the boy from his slump as he reached for his bag, rummaging around before producing the obviously well loved encyclopedia to magical plants.

You took the book quickly but carefully from his hands and started flipping through until you found the one you were looking for.

“Ah!” You called out triumphantly.

You kept your finger pointed to the paragraph you needed and turned the book around so that Neville could follow along where your finger was.

Slowly you saw something close to realization dawn over his features.

“Wait… so…”

“Yes.”

He looked up from the book a grin on his lips.

“And when you say it’s like…”

“Exactly.”

You couldn’t stop the overjoyed smiled the quirk the ends of your mouth up.

“I think I’ve got it.” You couldn’t help the way that your hands went to Neville’s shoulders, excited energy practically dripping from both of you as you smiled staring at each other.

Somewhere in the jovial exchange of half sentences you’d both gotten quite a bit closer together, only a foot or so of space between the two of you.

The energy around the both of your could be felt, like a small electric charge being generated by elated smiles and tension you hadn’t realized had been floating about.

Frankly, it was all too surprising in hindsight when Neville leaned across the empty space that separated the two of you and pressed his lips to yours. That didn’t stop a small squeak from working it’s way up your throat but stopping dead as your brain caught up and your eyelids fluttered shut.

Your hands moved from their place on Neville’s shoulders and linked together behind his neck as you pushed back into the kiss, his hands finding themselves cupping your waist. As you tilted into the soft pressure of his mouth, you noted that while you hadn’t kissed many boys in your life, Neville Longbottom, by far, was the best at it.

His mouth were just on the side of firm as it moved against yours, his bottom lip catching yours, drawing a sigh from your lungs as you shuffled just a bit closer. You could feel Neville’s fingers twitch against your sides as you fiddled with the back of his hair and the kiss continued.

Slowly the way your mouths moved together slowed, became deeper in a way that you were unfamiliar with. The tip of Neville’s tongue dipped past his parted lips and gentle probed at your bottom one. You felt a shiver crawl down your spine as you hesitantly opened you mouth just slightly, allowing your tongue to meet his. You could feel the hint of a sharp intake of air between the two of you and you weren’t sure whether it was you or him or both. Your lips pushed and slid together slickly, little wet noises and hums sounding between the both of you, Neville’s fingers slipping just a fraction under the hem of your sweater, one of your hands clutching, almost painfully at the collar of his dress shirt, grounding yourself in the sensation of his mouth.

Without warning the portrait swung open with a loud bang and you two sprang apart, twin redheaded boys stomping loudly into the scene.

You and Neville started at them, lips sleek and red, cheeks matching the color. Fred and George stared back before their expressions morphed into comical cheshire grins.

“ ‘Studying’ eh?”

[tevintermagisterium-blog]

Original post - {x}

Gonna do this in parts - see if I can actually rid this DA slum 

Appearance/Personality/Basic Facts

Preferred weapon/spell type: Dual weilding daggers

Specialization: Assassin

Does the Inquisitor have any scars/tattoos before the game’s events? If so, tell how they got them/their meaning (for example, what elvhen god does Inquisitor Lavellan’s vallaslin represent, and why did they choose them?)

Scar which goes down from his right upper brow, missing his eye, and down his cheek - A slash to the face by a dagger, it’s one single line, a swift motion which cuts deep, but has began to fade in colour.

Scar which covers the left side of his mouth vertically - from the same dagger as the one received at his eye. Received during a moment of “The Game” in a royal ball in the Tevinter Magisterium. It only reaches his top lip, bottom lip remaining untouched.

A large gash into his leg - Faded into pink - Moments in the game, to where his leg had made contact with a great sword in substitute to his back when he jumped.

Slight scars on the inside of his mouth - self inflicted as it is a secret way of finding a way to focus.

Light scars in his inner lip to where his own teeth have sank through - once a way to remove being nervous, now a way of concentration.

One striking up his right arm, where his vein is held - A result of Tevene traditions.

A cross like scar, forming at the top of his right collar bone. - Resulting from an arrow penetrating through in a moment of: The Grand Game.

Faded scars from - Around his neck, wrists, ankles. (Caused by Shackles/rope)

Very Faint scars on his upper right arm. - caused by being dragged harshly, by pointed, weaponised fingers.

Very Faint scars across his back - where fingers had dug in and were dragged across.

Very faint one across the lower back - Where fingers had dug in and forcefully moved him. (Only one sided, no breaking of the skin from the other side)

A branding of House Titus scarred into his Ankle and burnt into the sole of his foot

Set few which laid self-inflicted during episodes

Vallaslin - White markings of June (alternative) for that was the main god his clan served, whilst large, it was mainly their hunters who stayed along the lines of June, as well as the wives or lovers of those who did the hunt. Whilst not a hunter.. he merely wanted to impress his keeper.

The Chantry: NOPE. No. He once believed, but all that praying because a waste of oxygen. 

Tevinter: ... It is corrupt, It holds his worst nightmares.. but It is home. And he loves it so.

Fereldan: It is an... odd place. Many people seem racist towards other countries and rather angry if you don’t conform to them... but they are not insufferable. But the cold cAN FU-

Orlais: It is maybe the closest thing to home he can grasp onto right now - he adores politics oddly enough, the game is intriguing and it isn’t always as cold as Fereldan. Plus they have wine. IT’S HORRENDOUS WINE - but they have wine.

Mages/Magic: ..... NOPPPEEEE. NO! NOOO! NO. OH GOD PLEASE. NO. NOOOO- *do you see where I am going with this?* he is very rarely merciful with anybody who is a mage - it isn’t an instant murder case! but if he feels threatened, it may be.

Templars: They are... better than mages. Maybe not by much, but they withstand and remove magical abilities and drain such sources and that is.. pleasant.. to him.

The Mage/Templar War: They are all foolish to fight such a war at a time like this.. But if he had to pick a side... prepare to be shocked!-... Mages. For he despises their very soul! and he chose to recruit templars!! but the circles are very similar to slavery.. they don’t deserve that. Nobody deserves that.

The Dalish and City Elves: The dalish are controlling and twist the minds of many in their clan to follow their ways, guilt often used to those who don’t desire to conform. He is a city elf to heart, even if it wasn’t his upbringing.

Dwarves: .... They are smart. Incredibly smart. They may not show it, but the elf understands. Their system of trading built most of thedas and that is.. genius. He has respect for such people.

Qunari/Tal-Vashoth (do they even know the difference?): He knows the difference indeed - and Qunari are people he admired; granted he admires any race that isn’t an elf for they have different anatomy and that is fascinating to him. But they work on a system, and whilst he doesn’t despise the Qun... He prefers Tal-Vashoth.

Humans: Whilst... they may treat him like dirt.. They are different - their bodies were always pleasant to study when escaped and the way their politics works is.. intriguing. Humans aren’t the greatest.. But everybody has a different stance. He will not hate a human for how they were born, he will hate them for their opinions on life.

Their least favorite?:..... Humans. Depending on said human.

Life Before the Conclave

How well do they improve after becoming the Herald/Inquisitor?:.......  They don’t really improve, so to speak - they regain confidence but they are never the elf they were before. They do not like the idea of having so much power in such a self-destructive body whilst holds a self-destructive mind.  Canonly, Dorian is the only grounding thing he has, for what is a hated alliance at first becomes somewhat relaxing for the two of them - to be able to know both are men of Tevinter seeing it the same way; corrupt but.. still.. home... It’s nice. it leads up from there. So improvement isn’t really... existent, merely just more stress; but it does ground him slightly in knowing he can’t damage himself for the sake of others.

How do they feel about being separated from them? There is no care for if he is separated from the people he leaves before conclave, for they are either people who gave him no credit for things he worked over-time for (he just wanted her approval.) or a man who he just wanted the love from and never quite understood what was wrong.  There is no guilt or worry for leaving those people behind - there is very little thought, actually. Though he regrets what he gained in the process.  He cares more to be separated from the inquisition, for even if he doesn’t get on with them all.. they are still more accepting and understanding than those he previously had in his life.

[swanqueeneverafter]

36. There's No Place Like Home, Pt.4

The Enchanted Forest. Past. Dark Palace. The Dungeon. (Having regained consciousness, Emma’s cellmate watches her looking at Prince Charming’s ring.) Woman: “What’s that?” Emma: “It’s my parents’. I guess you could call it their wedding ring.” Woman: “And they entrusted you with it?” Emma: “Sort of. I need to get it back to them.” Woman: “Being away from family is a terrible, terrible thing.” Emma: “Yeah, it is.” Woman: “The longer I’m separated from them. The pain doesn’t dull. It worsens. Maybe, cause I know I’ll never see them again.” Emma: “If my mom was here she would tell me to have hope. Maybe you should too. Who knows, maybe you will end up with them again.” Woman: “I don’t think so. I’m fairly certain they already think that I’m dead. And soon that’ll be true.” (Emma notices a spoon lying on the ground in her cell.) Emma: “Maybe not. Give me your spoon.” (Emma entwines a wire around both spoons shaping it to a tool.) Woman: “What are you doing?” Emma: “It’s all about the tumblers.” (Using the wire, Emma opens her cell door.) Woman: “You did it. (Emma leaves her cell and hesitates for a moment:) What are you waiting for? Go! Get out of here! Go!” Dark Palace. Near The Dungeons. (A guard is standing watch. Growling, a wolf approaches him. Drawing his sword to fight the wolf, the guard is unaware that Prince Charming strikes a blow at his feet. The guard loses his balance and is knocked unconscious. Carefully, Hook advances, holding Red’s cloak in one hand.) Hook: “I’m glad the wolf is on our side.” (Hook throws the cloak on Red.) Prince Charming: “She’s a fearsome one. (Sheaths his sword:) Better hurry. When he awakes, they’ll be onto us.” Red: “Wait. Someone’s coming.” Hook: (Drawing his sword:) “Swan?” Emma: “Hook.” Hook: “What the hell are you doing? You’re depriving me of a dashing rescue.” Emma: “Sorry. The only one who saves me is me. Speaking of which... (Slipping the ring off her finger:) I’m not gonna be around much longer unless we find where this belongs.” Prince Charming: “I think that belongs to me.” Emma: “You guys have a way out of here?” Red: “Follow me. Snow told me where to meet her.” Woman: (Walks past Emma:) “Thank you, Leia.” Hook: (Falling behind in order to speak with Emma:) “Swan, you didn’t.” Emma: “She was to be executed in the morning. I couldn’t just leave her there to die.” Hook: “Actually, if she was to die, she pretty much has to.” Prince Charming: “I hate to break up a reunion but we have to keep moving. We have to find Snow White.”

Dark Palace. Regina’s Private Chambers. (Snow White sneaks in, ready to throw the dark fairy dust. The Evil Queen takes a closer look at an apple. Looking into her mirror, the Evil Queen notices the movement and recognizes Snow White.) The Evil Queen: “I didn’t think you were dumb enough to sneak back into your own home. (Standing up:) But, then again, I suppose, you were dumb enough to lose it.” Snow White: “Don’t come any closer.” The Evil Queen: “You think I’m scared of fairy dust?” Snow White: “This is dark fairy dust.” The Evil Queen: (Hesitates:) “How did you get that?” Snow White: “Doesn’t matter. What matters is, I intend to use it on you.” The Evil Queen: “Do you really think turning me into a bug will stop me?” Snow White: “No, but stepping on you will.” The Evil Queen: “You plan to kill me? I don’t think you have that in you, Snow White. (Snow White throws the dust. Raising a hand, the Evil Queen causes the dust to fall harmlessly to the ground:) Dark magic is my strong suit. Not yours. Guards! It’s about time you suffer as I did.” Snow White: “It was a mistake, Regina. I didn’t know telling your mother about Daniel would mean she would stop your marriage. I was a child!” The Evil Queen: (Angry:) “A child who didn’t learn the most basic lesson. All actions have consequences.” Snow White: “You can kill me, Regina, but this kingdom will never be yours.” (Before the guards can grab her, Snow throws the rest of the dark fairy dust over herself and seemingly vanishes.) The Evil Queen: (Hesitates, hears Emma’s voice in her head:) ‘She is the key to you finding your happiness.’ (To the guards:) “You fools! She escaped right under your noses!” (Spotting the little red insect flying away, Regina turns and walks away, leaving the guards utterly confused.)

The Enchanted Forest. Past. (Holding a lantern, Past Hook walks through the woods, followed by Smee.) Smee: "Uh, we're getting closer, Captain. (Turns the map in his hands:) At least, I think we are. I never was very much good navigating on land." Past Hook: "Navigation skills are no longer required, Mr. Smee. Look up. (Both men stare up at the foot of the staircase that leads to the Forbidden Fortress.) Wish me luck, Mr. Smee." (The pirate begins the long journey, alone.) Forbidden Fortress. (Past Hook enters a large, dark room. The only light coming from the substantial fireplace. Spotting someone sitting beside it, the pirate clears his throat and makes his way toward them.) Past Hook: "Apologies for the intrusion, but your door was open." Maleficent: "That's because I didn't think anyone would be stupid enough to enter my domain." Past Hook: (Chuckles:) "Captain Killian Jones, at your service." Maleficent: "Captain? (Leans forward in her chair, revealing her face for the first time:) My, aren't we handsome?" Past Hook: (Bows slightly:) "My lady." Maleficent: "What do you want? Who sent you?" Past Hook: "I... I'm sorry I'm a bit out of sorts. When the Evil Queen mentioned a powerful sorceress I just expected to find a horrible witch. And instead I find a beautiful woman before me." (Gives a roguish smile.) Maleficent: "Beautiful? Bold and brave I see. My name is Maleficent, what is it that you seek from me?" Past Hook: "I'm here on a mission of revenge. Something I hear you know a lot about. The queen sent me to see if your magic could help open a portal to a land without magic so that I may vanquish a foul demon that has wronged me. Although, having met you, perhaps business can wait awhile." Maleficent: (Mutters to herself, shaking her head:) "Regina, Regina, Regina." Past Hook: "What was that?" Maleficent: "I'm afraid I do not have the powers you seek." Past Hook: "Ah." Maleficent: (Rising to her feet:) "However, the queen was right about one thing: I do know a lot about revenge. I can give you a potion that will make you able to know your demon's weakness and use it against them." Past Hook: "All due respect, Milady, I have known the Dark One far longer than I care to admit. In this land he has no weaknesses." Maleficent: (Stepping closer:) "Everyone has a vulnerable spot. It's just about knowing where to look." Past Hook: "Indeed. (Slightly intimidated by the woman before him:) And what would you require in return for this potion?" Maleficent: "Look around you. It gets so lonesome here in my fortress." Past Hook: "I can imagine." Maleficent: "In return for my potion, all I would require from you is a little... company." Past Hook: (As Maleficent runs her hand under his shirt:) "Oh I assure you, I am wonderful company." Maleficent: "Do we have a deal?" Past Hook: (Smiles:) "How could I possibly refuse such a charming offer." (Maleficent smiles, emits a low growl and then pounces.)

The Enchanted Forest. Past. In The Woods. (Red, Hook, Prince Charming, Emma and her cellmate await Snow White at the agreed meeting point.) Prince Charming: “I don’t understand, she said to meet her here.” Hook: (Tries to shoo off a ladybug:) “Cursed vermin. We should head back to the Queen’s castle. Take a look around. (Again he tries to shoo of the lady bug:) Perhaps she was caught by Regina. (The lady bug lands on Emma’s arm:) Stay still, love.” (Hook wants to crush the bug, when Prince Charming stops him.) Prince Charming: “Wait! Don’t harm that thing. When we were coming to rescue you, Snow told me what her dust would do to the Queen. She said it would turn her into a form that could easily be squashed. (Gently he picks the lady bug from Emma’s shoulder:) A bug.” Emma: (Doubtful:) “You think Snow turned herself into that?” Prince Charming: “Well, if she did, she could have escaped the castle virtually undetected and flown away. (Takes a closer look at the bug:) Yeah, that’s her. Just need to find a way to bring her back.” (The bug buzzes.) Emma: (Leans closer:) “She’s saying something.” Hook: “Wonderful. Anyone fluent in bug?” (The Blue Fairy emerges from the woods.) Blue Fairy: “She’s calling for me.” Emma: “Blue.” Blue Fairy: “That’s right. And you are?” Emma: “Leia.” Blue: “No, that’s not it. But your secrets can be yours. I sense it’s better that way.” Red: “Can you bring Snow back?” Blue Fairy: “Dark magic did this to her. (Nods:) Light magic can undo it.” (Using her wand, she transforms the bug into Snow White. Prince Charming laughs.) Emma: (Hugs Snow White in relief:) “You’re all right!” Snow White: (Tenses:) “Oh. It appears so. Thank you.” Red: “Snow?” Snow White: (Hugs Red:) “Red. I’m so glad to see you.” (With a pained expression, Emma watches Prince Charming, Red and Snow.) Hook: (Steps closer:) “Looks like we’re back on track, love.” Emma: (Nods:) “Yeah.”

The Enchanted Forest. Past. (Snow White hugs Red and then approaches Prince Charming.) Snow White: “I suppose I should thank you. You saved me.” Prince Charming: ���Well, it seemed like the honorable thing to do.” Snow White: “I’m going to the stream to get some water. I can fill your canteen, if you’d like.” Prince Charming: (He hands her his bottle:) “Thanks.” Emma (Overhearing the conversation:) “They’re warming up to each other. This is good. This’ll work.” Hook: “That may be, Swan. But we have another problem.” (Hook nods towards Emma’s former cellmate who sits in the distance.) Emma: “I had to save her.” Hook: “Sure, you did the noble thing, but she’s supposed to be dead. Her presence in the Enchanted Forest could have unforeseen consequences.” Emma: “She’s just a sweet, innocent woman.” Hook: “What if she had a child who grows into a mass murderer? Or she gets tipsy some night and rides her horse into one of the dwarves and there are only six of them? Who knows? We’re best not finding out. She doesn’t belong here.” Emma: “I know exactly what we can do. Take her with us.” Cut To: Woman: “The future?” Emma: “You can’t stay here. You were supposed to die hours ago.” Woman: “I don’t understand. I just wanna get back to my family.” Hook: “They need to believe you’re dead. Because that’s what they’ve always thought.” Emma: “Trust us.” Woman: “All due respect, I don’t trust you. Or believe you. So, unless you’re kidnapping me I’m going to go find my family.” (Emma walks around her, knocking her unconscious with a branch. Hook catches the body.) Emma: “Well, then, I guess we’re kidnapping you.” Hook: (Chuckles:) “I always knew there was a little pirate in you, Swan.” Prince Charming: (Noticing the body lying on the ground:) “What happened to her?” Emma: “She’s, uh, resting. What’s up?” Prince Charming: “Has either one of you seen Snow? She went to the stream but she hasn’t- (He quickly searches his pocket:) The ring. She took it.” Emma: “Really? Do you know where she might be headed?” Prince Charming: “She was seeking passage on a pirate ship. There’s only one way to get to the harbor from here. The Troll Bridge.” Emma: “Oh, no.” (Emma heads after Prince Charming.) Hook: (Stops her:) “Swan, wait. The bridge. Isn’t that where you want them to be? Isn’t that where Snow saved your father from the trolls?” Emma: “Yes, but the only reason she was able to do that was because she had a weapon. The dust.” Hook: “Which she’s already used on herself. Bloody hell.” Emma: “Come on. They're gonna need help.” The Troll Bridge. (One troll has captured Snow White and threatens her with a knife. Prince Charming fights a second troll. The troll manages to strike a blow against Charming’s hand. His sword falls to the ground.) Prince Charming: “Alright. Alright.” (The troll picks up his satchel. Searching, he finds the Wanted poster. He shows it around, laughing.) Troll 1: “Snow White. (To Troll 3:) Tell the Queen we have her.” The Enchanted Forest. Past. (Running, Hook and Emma head to the Troll Bridge.) The Troll Bridge. (The troll pushes his captive over to the other troll and prepares to leave. Catching Snow White, the second troll is unaware that Prince Charming picks up his sword again. Prince Charming fights the trolls.) Prince Charming: (To Snow White:) “Go! I’m right behind you.” The Enchanted Forest. Past. (Running, Hook and Emma head to the Troll Bridge.) The Enchanted Forest. (Snow White heads away from the Troll Bridge.) Snow White: “Follow me. They don’t know the forest like I do.” (Stops. Turning around Snow White notices that Prince Charming is in trouble. She is about to use the fairy dust as a weapon but it’s empty. The trolls prepare to behead Prince Charming.) Troll 1: “Royal blood is the sweetest of all.” Snow White: “Stop! Drop the sword or I will turn you all into bugs. (Holding out her hand:) Dark fairy dust. So, you let him go, or I will be peeling you all off the bottom of my boots.” (She reaches back intending to throw.) Troll 2: (Drops his sword:) “We don’t want any trouble.” Snow White: “Good. And while you’re at it, give me reason to forget this ever happened.” (One troll lays out her silver on the bridge’s railing. The trolls exit.) Prince Charming: “You saved me.” Snow White: “It was the honorable thing to do.” Prince Charming: “But how? You used the dust on yourself.” Snow White: (Shrugs:) “Sand. Trolls aren’t exactly known for their cleverness. (Prince Charming chuckles:) Come on. We should go. In case they come back.” (Snow takes her silver.)

Hook: (Watches Snow and Charming leave the bridge. To Emma:) “Wait.” Prince Charming: “So, you probably want this.” (Hands her the pouch.) Snow White: “Right, the gold.” Hook: “It appears your parents didn’t need our help after all.” Snow White: “And, um, you can’t get married without this.” (Hands Prince Charming his satchel.) Prince Charming: (Takes his mother’s ring out of the satchel:) “I know, not your style, right?” Snow White: “Oh, there’s only one way to find out. (Takes the ring from him slips it on, and then takes a closer look at it:) Yeah, not me at all. I’m sure your fiancée will love it.” (Watching her parents, Emma smiling silently cries.) Hook: “It’s okay, Swan. Not everyone gets the chance to watch their parents fall in love.” Prince Charming: “Well, wherever you are going, be careful. If you need anything-” Snow White: “You’ll find me.” Prince Charming: “Always.” (He hands Snow her bundle.) Snow White: “I almost believe that.” (Snow White and Prince Charming walk away, heading in opposite directions.) Hook: “They’re heading away from each other.” Emma: “No, it’s okay. That’s how it happened the first time. It took my parents a while to accept their feelings.” Hook: “Must run in the family.” Emma: (Rolls her eyes good naturedly:) “Will you stop? (Emma takes Henry’s storybook out of Hook’s bag and opens it. One by one writing and pictures telling the story appear again:) Look. We did it.” The Enchanted Forest. Past. Dark Palace. (The Evil Queen’s private chambers. At the Evil Queen’s feet three cockroaches run back and forth.) The Evil Queen: (To a frightened guard:) “Do you know what this is? (Pointing at the cockroaches:) This is what happens to people - or in this case trolls - who fail me. (The Evil Queen steps on one cockroach crushing it:) Find Snow White. I shall destroy her happiness. If it is the last thing I do.” (The guard nods and takes off in a hurry as the Queen smiles knowingly to herself.) The Enchanted Forest. Past. Dark Castle. (Emma and Hook, carrying Emma’s cellmate, enter.) Emma: “We did it.” Rumplestiltskin: (Prepares a potion:) “Your parents are together?” Emma: “They’re right back on track. We’re ready to go.” Rumplestiltskin: “I see. (Notices Emma’s cellmate:) And you brought some luggage.” Emma: “Long story. So, how’s the portal coming? Can you open it?” Rumplestiltskin: “I cannot.” Emma: “Then what are you working on?” Rumplestiltskin: “Oh, this is for me. A forgetting potion. I know too much about my future. The only way to protect it, is to forget it.” Emma: “Well, what about this wand? You said that could help us.” Rumplestiltskin: “Oh, that. Well, apparently, only those who used the portal can reopen it. So unless you can wield magic, I’m afraid, you’re going nowhere. (Throws the wand to Emma:) Can you? (Emma remains silent staring at the wand:) Thought not.” Hook: “So, you just expect us to stay here? What about protecting your precious future?” Rumplestiltskin: “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.” Hook: (Draws his saber:) “He means to kill us, Swan.” Rumplestiltskin: (Giggles:) “No. I mean to put you someplace safe. Someplace even I dare not go. Where I store the magic that is too dark or unpredictable even for me.” Emma: “Rumplestilts-” (A purple cloud covers Hook and Emma.)

Dark Castle. Rumplestiltskin’s Vault. (Emma walks around the room trying to orientate herself. Hook puts Emma’s cellmate down on a table.) Emma: “No.” Hook: (Taking a look into a mirror standing in the room he notes that Rumplestiltskin undid the glamor spell he provided them with:) “At least he did us one favor. I’m devilishly handsome again.” (Pleased, he smiles. Hook opens a cupboard standing beside the mirror and takes out the urn stored inside.) Emma: (Turning around:) “Wait! Don’t touch anything! If Rumple is afraid of this stuff, there’s gotta be a reason.” Hook: (Places the urn on another table:) “I’m just trying to figure a way out.” Emma: (Desperate:) “I don’t think there is one. And, what’s the point. You heard what he said.” Hook: “But you can. All he said we need is magic. You’re the savior, Swan. You can do it.” Emma: “Not anymore. I lost it.” Hook: “When Zelena died, all of her spells were undone. Your powers should have been restored.” Emma: “Believe me, if I could make it work, I would. (Angry:) You think I’m faking it?” Hook: “I think not having magic makes it a lot of easier for you to run back to New York and pretend to be somebody else. But listen to me, Swan. You’re not. It’s time to stop running.” Emma: “You think I don’t know that? Yes, I run away. That’s how I always survived. But, believe me, I want this to work. I wanna go back. I wanna stop running.” Hook: “What’s changed your mind?” Emma: “Watching my parents fall in love. Seeing what they had to go through just to be together. And then, when I thought she was captured, you saw what happened. I was so relieved when she was okay. And I hugged her. And you know what I saw in her eyes? Nothing. She didn’t know who I was. (Her voice breaks:) And that’s what I’ve been doing to her since I met her. It’s got to stop. When Henry brought me to Storybrooke he told me I was the savior. I didn’t see what he was really doing: He was not bringing me back to break a curse. He was bringing me home. Being with my parents the last few days, but not really being with them? I’ve never missed them more. Storybrooke. That’s my home. (Hook gives Emma a smile:) What?” Hook: “Look down. (Looking down Emma notices that the wand in her hand glimmers brightly:) I’d say you’ve got your magic back. Now, shall we go? (Concentrating, Emma reopens the portal. Hook picks up Emma’s cellmate:) Well done, Swan.” (He goes through the portal. Emma is about to follow him when Rumplestiltskin appears behind her.) Rumplestiltskin: “You opened it. (Grabs Emma’s hand:) Wait.” Emma: (Struggles to break free:) “Let me go.” Rumplestiltskin: “My son. What happens when I find him?” Emma: “I thought you wanted to forget.” Rumplestiltskin: “Before I do, I need to know. Does he forgive me?” Emma: “Yes.” Rumplestiltskin: “Yes, but what? What aren’t you telling me? Tell me or you will never leave.” Emma: “He dies. He forgives you. He loved you. He died to save all of us. Don’t let it be in vain.” Rumplestiltskin: “No. I can change what happened. I can save my boy.” Emma: “You think you can change the future, but you might make it worse. I wanted to save him. He died a hero. You can’t take that away from him. You have to drink the potion. You have to forget everything I just told you.” (Drinking the potion, Rumplestiltskin releases his grip on Emma. Emma gets sucked into the portal just as it is about to close. The urn gets sucked into the portal as well. Rumplestiltskin remains behind.) Rumplestiltskin: (Picks up the wand, confused:) “What the hell am I doing in here?” (Magically, he transfers himself elsewhere, leaving the vault.)