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monsterfloofs · 3 years

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The Ghost in the Parlor (Sfw and anonymous protagonist!)

It was one in the morning when you rose from bed, sliding on a pair of slippers and feeling your way through the dark to exit your room. The sound was faint, barely audible, but you knew. . .

He was playing tonight.

As you weave your way towards the stairs, you could hear the chords beneath you, the stirring voice of a piano pulling you through dark corridors. As you stop and peer over the banister. You can see from up above, candles alight with a ghastly blue fire. Their light casting eerie wisps of shadows to dance upon the floor. In the middle of this spectral scene was a luminous form sitting at the old grand piano. His spindly fingers like spiders upon the keys, procuring the tune that wafted up the stairs. The sound is sweet and melancholic, mourning things that have been lost, and the ever present march of time. Always moving, never relenting.

You knew all this because you had asked him, it was his favorite tune to play. He played it often and there were times where you could almost feel his deep rooted bittersweet sadness. Tears would spring to your eyes and you would have to mop your face with your sleeve. Tonight the song felt especially lonely and with careful footing you crept down the stairs, your shadow timidly trailing after.

"Have I disturbed you?" His melodic voice intones as you sit down beside him. "No, I came to hear you play, if you would have me as company mister Sterling." "Sleep is for the living" he sighs wistfully, "You should be asleep, dreaming sweet dreams of tomorrow."

He talks to you but his hands, ah his quick and nimble hands keep playing. You watch them sweeping across the keys, mesmerized until he stops. You blink and look up at him. His face is turned towards yours, an eyebrow quirked inquisitively. "A little distracted, were we?" You smile sheepishly, "Ah, yes, I'm sorry, but your hands do work magic. What had you been saying?"

He gives an embarrassed huff, "It's late is it not?" They pale eyes staring at you unblinkingly from beneath round vintage glasses. "Well yes," you reluctantly agree, "But I have missed your nightly performances. And I was hoping you could give me another lesson tonight." You say softly as he flexes his long spindly fingers. "Ooh. . . perhaps. You have always been kind to me. Letting me keep you up at odd hours of night with my prattling."

"You know I would stay even if you didn't give me a lesson. Your music is beautiful." He turns his head away from you, but you can see a hazy pink color introduce itself onto his countenance. When he turns back the color has all but bled out, except for some swirling traces. "I have had nothing but time to perfect it. Though as despairing as it may be, to watch seasons pass without being able to participate in the world, I still have my music. I wonder, is it what holds me here? Is my comfort my cage? Alas-- Dear, aren't you going to put your hands to the piano? You did ask for a lesson you know."

You look up at him before doing as he asks. Aligning your fingers to the keys, "I thought you were still deciding. . ." "Oh," they respond absentmindedly, "Don't mind me, I'm particularly lost in my thoughts tonight, death, life, it's all just one big mess. . ." Sterling rambles on talking about music as you sit together playing chords and sections of songs. As you are still learning the basics he keeps things simple, most of the time you are echoing his voice on the piano or remembering notes and chords. But he has seems to have become happier with having someone he can talk to, rather than to stew lost in his own thoughts.

"You are doing quite well," A pleased smile tugging on his lips, his crinkled eyes twinkling. "Have you been practicing?" "A little. . . Not as much as I would like though." You slid your hands onto your lap and smile. "Thank you for the lesson, I appreciate you taking the time to sit with me and do that. I hope I'm not inconveniencing you."

"Of course not," he sniffs, "I. . . am very fond of your company." There was something with the way he said it, that stirred your heart. You can feel your own face grow a little warm, "I'm glad. . . haha." He glances at you, his hands poised to begin playing again. You swallow hard and press on, "Though I h-have to admit, I am more than a little fond of you."

--BADOOM His hands slip hitting the keys too hard and causes a loud blunder of noise. Practically falling off his chair, Sterling’s hands shielding his face in embarrassment. "I-I. . .WHAT?" He stammers, your eyes widen that he reacted so dramatically. "I just meant that, I c-care about you a lot--" The candles snuff out around and you are suddenly plunged in darkness. The ghost has left the building.

Your head flops into the piano, a few keys playing as your face presses into them. You give a groan of defeat Dammit! Way to go, you probably just killed him. . . AGAIN. Despite his usual stuffy demeanor he can get easily flustered. He tries to hide it under a punctual and proper air, but was a much shier person than he let on. You liked that about him though, there were little things that he did that just enchanted you. He was a deep thinker, and he always took the time to explain things and be patient with you. So of course, you had to go and fall in love with a ghost. You had been trying to gather the courage to tell him your feelings for about a week now. Slowly working your way towards the right words you say. But like music, timing was just as important as the notes. To be honest you had gotten so nervous you are sure you had fumbled in both regards. You sigh heavily, best head to bed, perhaps you can try and talk to him tomorrow.

You slink away in defeat, retiring to your chamber until sunlight streams through your window. Leaving a dappled trail of light and warmth inside your room. You grumpily turn over in bed, refusing to move until you have properly sulked for just a little while longer. Trying to wrack your brain how you were going to approach the ghostly pianist now. With Sterling being so shy, you weren’t sure if his reaction was bad or good. Only time will tell, but in the meantime you're up and making breakfast. Then busying yourself with doing chores around the house and trying not to let your mind settle too much into last night. You go about whiling away the hours until sunset. That's when Sterling becomes active inside the house. You don’t exactly know where he goes during the daytime. You have attempted in the past to nonchalantly snoop around in the basement but to no avail.

Before you know it, the sun is setting in the sky. Golden light filtering across the floor, flooding the rooms with dying light. You peer into the parlor, and step inside. Running your hands over the black and white keys. You can feel a faint prick on the back of your neck, you turn around and You startle, coming face to face with the musically inclined ghoul. You put a hand on your heart. "Oh my goodness!-- Sterling!" you sigh weakly, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. “Hello,” He murmurs faintly, you look up at him, feeling suddenly shy. All this time you had been waiting to talk to him, and now only an awkward silence fills the room. Both of you starting to speak at the same time.

“I’m sorry, what were you going to say?”

“N-no that’s alright, please, continue”

“Aaah-- why don’t you go first, I was the person who upset you last night”

A hand flutters anxiously to the glasses upon his crooked nose. "You didn’t upset me. You, w-well surprised me. I was flattered, but I don’t think you truely want anything to do with this old goat." "H-huh? What do yo--" He cuts you off with a flourish of his hand. "I'm an old man dear, not just old, decrepit. I died in 1839, my bones are buried outside, wouldn't that bother you?" His face flushes an eerie pink and he splutters in embarrassment. "I mean, it should bother you. . . " A light bulb blinks on in your head and you stare at him with new found insight. "Y-you, like me too, don't you. . ." "I beg your pa--" "It was you, wasn’t it?" With a rush of feeling, you practically jump a foot off the ground from excitement. "I was always wondering about those poems left on the door step-" your mouth goes agape. "And those flowers!" His eyes dart back and forth in a panic, his mouth wobbling. "W-what??? Me? I don't know anything about that!" You can tell he's wanting to bolt and you make a grab at one of his translucent hands. Surprisingly your fingers successfully curl around it and his shoulders jerk up. Trying to calm yourself down before trying to talk to him. You were spooking him, a novel thought, but not what you had been intending to do. So you take a different approach, "Why. . . didn't you ever tell me?" The specter is sweating bullets now, he mops his brow with a wispy handkerchief. "I-I” he groans in defeat, “A ghost cannot do romance! A ghost cannot do much of-- of anything! No matter how I felt, I couldn't keep you here, you deserve to be free, to experience life to the fullest. Not to be shackled to me and this house." You flush, truly surprised by his answer. "But, I don't want anyone else, I like you. . ." Tentatively you take his hands and hold them gently in your own. His expression quivers, looking down before he gently pulls away. His fingers wisping through your skin before reconstructing themselves back together. He puts a hand into his breast pocket before he pulls out an envelope with a flowery wax seal. He looks away from you but hands you the letter, his expression flushing as that same red color is introduced into his normal pale blue complexation. You look up at him searchingly before you gently take the letter. The smooth paper has a fragrance like all the rest of the notes you recieved, like roses and vanilla. You carefully peel back the floral seal, opening the envelope.

You watch Sterling lights the candles at the table in the parlor. It has been a week since the two of you had become a couple, and you cannot remember a happier time, then the hours you have spent together. “Didn't you say, a ghost cannot do romance?” You tease him with a smile, your eyes crinkling as you watch him with a loving gaze. He huffs softly, "That I did, and I wish more than anything I could take you to a fine dinner out of this house. . . " He pinches the wick of one last candle, and when he removes his hand, an enchanting blue fire flickers to life. “I think a candlelit dinner at home is just as lovely.” He looks at you for a moment, before he gives a little smile, “If you say so darling.” “I do.” He bends down to give you a chilly peck on the forehead before he sits down at his piano, flexing his fingers before he begins to play. The blue lights of the candles flickering to the sound of his haunting melody. But the tone has changed, no longer lachrymose. You can hear something happy stirring in the song that projects itself out of the house, and into the starlit sky.

#monster x reader #ghost x reader #fluff #sfw #ghost x human

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theshapeshifter100 · 3 years

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Wolf and Raven: Old Friends Chapter 7

First

Masterlist

tw dissociation not from character POV

---

Several minutes later a black dot appeared among the rainclouds, and Raven landed nearby. She shifted and started walking over briskly.

“Is everything alright? That was quite the message.”

“My apologies, I could not wait for Haryad,” Erina gestured to Wolf. “Do you have any idea of how to help?”

Raven looked at Wolf and her brow furrowed. “I have not seen this before.”

Erina and Satyarani looked at each other, concerned.

“What happened to cause this?” Raven walked over to Wolf, cautiously waving a hand in front of Wolf’s face, which got little reaction.

“She walked into the tent, and froze like that,” Satyarani shook her head. “Even if you do not know what happened, you might still be the best person to help her.”

“Aye,” Erina agreed. “I will brew some more potion of Dreamless Sleep.”

“I thank you,” Raven said before turning her attention to Wolf. “Can you hear me my friend?”

No response.

“That is fine. I will… I will wait with you,” Raven stood next to Wolf under the tree, staff planted into the ground and occasionally being dripped on. The rain continued to hammer down and the light faded, and still she waited.

A small campfire was crackling away fiercely by the time Wolf moved.

She turned her head slightly, confused.

“…What…?” dread and unease still curdled in her belly, and she sat down heavily. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted her staff in the ground, and stared at it like she couldn’t believe that it was there. She slowly reached her hand out, afraid that it would disappear.

Her hand touched warm wood, and she wrapped her hand around it, gripping it tight and pulling it closer.

“Wolf?”

Wolf startled and looked to her other side, seeing Raven.

“Raven! What, what are you doing here?”

“Erina called for me,” Raven slowly sat down. “She was worried about you. You, you were not here.”

The huff of disbelief faded as Wolf’s face furrowed.

“Aye. I was… I was not quite here. I… I do not know. I am sorry,” she pressed the heel of her palm against her forehead.

“I do not think you need to apologise, although Erina and Satyarani are both confused as to what caused it.”

“I do not think that I know,” Wolf rested her forehead on her free hand. “There was a smell, mud. The smell of mud, and I… I walked into the tent…”

Raven waited for Wolf to gather her thoughts.

“… I know why,” she sighed. “It was often muddy in Nevar’s camp, and I did not leave that tent for months,” Wolf growled under her breath. “First nightmares, then rope, then the potion not working and now this. I thought I was better than this!” she slammed her fist into the ground. “Why?! Why is this happening now?!”

“That I cannot answer.”

“I do not expect you to, my apologies,” Wolf looked out towards the Shadow Wood. “I am so tired Raven. I am tired of my mind turning against me, I am tired of not being the person I used to be. You never met that Wolf. She was confident, and bright. It felt as though nothing could touch her.”

“She is still you, merely changed, as we all do.”

“Aye, I suppose. Still I will ask, did the potion work for you last night?”

“…It did not,” Raven admitted.

“It did not work for me either. I may take a stronger dose tonight.”

“I believe Erina is brewing a fresh batch,” Raven nodded over to the small campfire, where Erina was indeed brewing in a small cauldron. “Perhaps I should ask her for some?”

“It will do no harm,” Wolf agreed. “I apologise for dragging you from your task to tend to me.”

“You need not apologise. I do not feel I did much, I merely waited to see if you would come back.”

“And I am grateful for that, truly,” Wolf’s eyes trailed north to a mountain just beyond the River of the Diving Bird. “My apologies, I do not think I can be around too many people tonight,” the idea of sharing a camp with Erina and Satyarani turned her stomach into knots.

“I heard wolf howls last night. Is there a pack nearby?”

“I know of a pack within the Forest of Dawn Time and another in Triple Thorn Wood. They travel though, they may be in their seasonal grounds.”

“But you know where they are?”

“Aye, but they do not remember me.”

“But they heard you last night?”

“…Aye.”

“Then go if you need. I will tell Erina and Satyarani.”

Wolf looked over at the other two, before looking back at Raven. She nodded briefly before shifting into a wolf, and with one more glance over her shoulder, she disappeared into Shadow Wood.

---

Satyarani watched Raven fly back to the west side of the island from underneath the tent. The rain was coming down harder than ever now, and Erina was holding her cloak over the pot she was brewing from.

After a while Erina took the pot off the fire and brought it inside the tent, where gentle steam wafted off it.

“All finished?” Saytarani asked.

“Almost. It needs to sit for three hours,” Erina found a small hourglass in her pack and turned it over. “I cannot give Raven any tonight, but I told her that she is free to collect some before we break camp tomorrow.”

“I see,” Satyarani sat properly in the tent, hanging the damp fur cloak from one of the tent poles. “It was interesting to see Wolf with Raven, even after all of that. It was the first time I have seen her relaxed.”

“Aye…” Erina sat down properly. “It, it does not require much thought to work out why.”

“You have been somewhat antagonistic,” Satyarani pointed out. “However you have calmed down this last day.”

“That is some relief,” Erina rubbed her eyes. “Lack of sleep has been affecting me as well, I do not have energy to start an argument… and… I am reminded of why Wolf and I were friends,” Erina lay her staff across her lap. “And I no longer think she is lying. That display earlier… I do not think that could be faked, not for as long as that.”

“Then you would be wise to tell her that.”

“That I will, that I will,” Erina looked out at the rain. “She should be back before morning.”

“I will trust your judgement on that matter, you know her better than I do.”

“I am not so certain of that. I know the old Wolf would be back before dawn. I cannot be quite so certain nowadays.”

“You are all different people, and people change.”

“Aye,” Erina looked over at Satyarani. “I must ask, you do not know anyone here. Why do you still aid us?”

“I knew Raven, Raven of Old,” Satyarani corrected. “He is a good man, and I am here to aid him. I will admit that this island has taken some getting used to, and the magic here is very different to that of my country. However, it does have its charm.”

“If this is successful then all of Alaunus would be in debt to you twice over.”

“Then I will know who to call should my homeland ever be in danger.”

“That is a deal I would be happy to make.”

“I do not find it likely anytime soon, but as I understand, you are not mortal.”

“I was not mortal since I carved my staff,” Erina lifted it slightly to make the point. “The magic of the Enchanted Oak can change you.”

“I see, so you were once mortal?”

“Aye.”

“Raven of Old I recall being born immortal, for he could not enter the Chamber of the Three-Headed Serpent, what of Wolf?”

“I am uncertain, though it is likely that she is the same. They are both unusual individuals. Their ability to change form is not confined to their Staffs of Power, it is an ability they possessed since birth, as far as we know,” Erina paused to think, “as for this new Raven, I cannot say for certain. I do not know of anyone who has passed on their staff and mantle in such a way before.”

“We will have to wait and see I suppose,” Satyarani drew a knee up and rested an arm on it. “I myself am fashioned from the earth of my homeland. I was never mortal.”

“I see. I do not think I have heard of such a thing before.”

“The world has many magics, many secrets. Your Cyrus seems like the kind of man who would wish to learn all of them.”

“Aye. I fancy if he could spend his life travelling and learning new magics, he would.”

“What is stopping him?”

“…I do not entirely know. I should ask him when we meet up again.”

“As long as he obeys the laws of my land, he will be welcome in my country.”

“Did Raven obey the laws of your land?”

“For the most part. He did strain against them at times, and lose his temper several times. His anger was understandable, but there are laws in my homeland that cannot be broken in order to retrieve the Elixir of Life.”

“I can imagine,” a fond smile crossed Erina’s face. “He was always somewhat impatient. And could have quite the temper when he felt that not enough was being done.”

“Indeed, that sounds about right. The Raven of now does seem much more patient.”

“Aye, that she is. I wonder if she feels as though she has to prove herself? I do hope that is not the case.”

“Raven of Old casts a long shadow. It will be difficult for her to step from it.”

“If she can free Raven of Old and keep Nevar in the desolate realm, she will certainly step from his shadow.”

“Indeed,” Satyarani looked outside the tent, watching the rain fall. Erina followed her gaze, and the two fell into companionable silence.

---

Hoo boy, still not certain about the dissociation, but there you go I guess. Some time away from people and with wolves will be good for her I think

Erina and Satyarani talk of immortality. I had to change this real quick since I rewatched a Secret Temple story compilation yesterday, which had some info I had forgotten. Including the fact that Raven of Old was born immortal. This is important because I have a whole thought dump on immortality in the Raven series and that did answer one of the questions I had. I just had to separate Erina's thoughts from my own.It's mostly that Secret Temple often uses the term 'born mortal', implying that Raven of Old is not, but Nevar is, and I would assume Erina is too, which leads to the idea that possession of a Staff of Power can make you immortal, but then there's the whole of using it for evil taking time off your life and if that's the case how is Nevar still alive, what decides what is an evil deed? Is that why Raven of Old will not attack dishonourably, because it might be deemed evil by, something? And where in bloody hell do the Warriors with Staffs fit into this?! I was talking about this with my beta writer @fairyofsomething and honestly, I had thought that having a Staff of Power made you a sorcerer (to use DnD terms), but now it seems more like a warlock thing! Still, I have thoughts, that will be organised, somewhat, and put separately somewhere. Since you know, I'm overthinking a children's game show that might not have had as much thought put in.

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frmartinshomiliesandreflections · 5 years

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6th August >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Luke 9:28-36 for the Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord: ‘It is wonderful for us to be here’.

Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Luke 9:28-36

Jesus is transfigured before them

Jesus took with him Peter and John and James and went up the mountain to pray. As he prayed, the aspect of his face was changed and his clothing became brilliant as lightning. Suddenly there were two men there talking to him; they were Moses and Elijah appearing in glory, and they were speaking of his passing which he was to accomplish in Jerusalem. Peter and his companions were heavy with sleep, but they kept awake and saw his glory and the two men standing with him. As these were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, ‘Master, it is wonderful for us to be here; so let us make three tents, one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.’ – He did not know what he was saying. As he spoke, a cloud came and covered them with shadow; and when they went into the cloud the disciples were afraid. And a voice came from the cloud saying, ‘This is my Son, the Chosen One. Listen to him.’ And after the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. The disciples kept silence and, at that time, told no one what they had seen.

Gospel (USA)

Luke 9:28b–36

While Jesus was praying his face changed in appearance.

Jesus took Peter, John, and James and went up a mountain to pray. While he was praying his face changed in appearance and his clothing became dazzling white. And behold, two men were conversing with him, Moses and Elijah, who appeared in glory and spoke of his exodus that he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem. Peter and his companions had been overcome by sleep, but becoming fully awake, they saw his glory and the two men standing with him. As they were about to part from him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good that we are here; let us make three tents, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” But he did not know what he was saying. While he was still speaking, a cloud came and cast a shadow over them, and they became frightened when they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my chosen Son; listen to him.” After the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. They fell silent and did not at that time tell anyone what they had seen.

Reflections (8)

(i) Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord

Today’s second reading contains a lovely image. It speaks of a ‘lamp for lighting a way through the dark until the dawn comes’. The author understood the lamp as the words of the prophets, the word of the Lord. We all need a lamp or light to shine through the dark until the dawn comes. Blessed John Henry Newman will be canonized in a couple of months’ time. We are familiar with his prayer which has been put to music, ‘Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom, thou me on. The night is dark and I am far from home, lead thou me on’. He was addressing the Lord as his kindly light amid the gloom that seemed to encircle him at that time. The Lord is our kindly light too. He lights our way through the dark until the dawn comes. In today’s gospel reading, Peter, James and John had a wonderful experience of Jesus as a kindly light in the darkness. Jesus had just been speaking to them for the first time about the darkness that lay ahead, the great suffering he would soon undergo, how he would be rejected by the religious leaders and put to death by Rome, and how they too would have to take up the cross as his followers. As Jesus and his disciples were about to set out on the journey to Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets, there was this moment of glorious light on the mountain for Jesus and his disciples. A light was shining in the darkness and would continue to shine there. Peter’s response to this experience of God’s heavenly light shining through Jesus was one of wonder and gratitude, ‘Master, it is wonderful for us to be here’. The transfigured, risen, Lord continues to journey with us today. The light of God’s life-giving love continues to shine through him on all of us, regardless of where we are on our life journey, no matter how great the darkness that seems to envelope us. That heavenly light continues to shine upon us every moment of every day until the dawn of the eternal day comes and eternal light shines upon us.

And/Or

(ii) Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord

On the mount of transfiguration, the disciples had a memorable experience. They saw Jesus as they had never seen him before, transfigured, his clothes dazzling white. As Peter says in today’s second reading, ‘We saw his majesty for ourselves’. They were captivated by the mystery of Jesus’ identity, ‘This is my Son, the beloved’. They saw that there was more to him than they had realized. That is why Peter said, ‘it is wonderful for us to be here’, to be here in this place. So often, there is more to the place we are in, and to the people we are with, than we realize. Sometimes our way of seeing where we are and who we are with can be somewhat restricted. In one of our acclamations at Mass, we say or sing, ‘Heaven and earth are full of your glory’. We acknowledge in that acclamation how the created world is charged with God’s presence. That is especially true with regard to the human person who alone is made in the very image of God. God could say of each person we meet, ‘This is my beloved’. As God invited the disciples on the mountain to see Jesus more deeply, he invites us to see each other more deeply, to relate to each other in a way that acknowledges the wonder of our being. We can fail to appreciate what is all around us. God calls us to cherish and celebrate the wonder of life all around us, as the disciples celebrated the wonder of Jesus on the mountain.

And/Or

(iii) Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord

In this morning’s gospel reading Peter is enchanted by the vision of the glorious Jesus, flanked by Moses and Elijah, and he wants to prolong this experience for as long as possible, ‘Master, it is wonderful for us to be here’. Peter struggled to learn that there could be no glory without the cross. The voice from the cloud called on Peter, and on James and John, to listen to Jesus, the beloved Son of God, especially when he spoke of himself as the suffering Son of Man. It took a long time for Peter and the other disciples to understand that God was as present in the darkness of Calvary as he was in the wonderful light of the transfiguration and resurrection. Hopefully we have all known transfiguration moments when, with Peter, we say, ‘It is wonderful for us to be here’. We will certainly have known Calvary moments when such a sentiment would have been very far from our lips. The Lord is equally present to us in both of those very different experiences. In both our moments of darkness and of light, God says to us, ‘this is my Son, the Chosen One. Listen to him’, because the Lord speaks as powerfully to us in the darkness as in the light.

And/Or

(iv) Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord

The transfiguration scene in the gospels comes immediately after Jesus had spoken of himself of the Son of Man who must undergo great suffering and be killed. Jesus and the disciples had just set out on the journey to Jerusalem, the city where Jesus would be crucified; it was the beginning of the way of the cross, the way to the cross. Shortly after they began that journey, three of the disciples have an extraordinary vision of Jesus in which they saw him not as the suffering Son of Man but as the glorious Son of God. They were, in a sense, given a glimpse of what lay beyond the crucifixion and death of Jesus, a glimpse of the resurrection. Sometimes on our own faith journey, our own way of the cross even, we too can be given a glimpse of the resurrection. It might take the form of a consolation that we experience in prayer, or an act of love and kindness that someone shows us, or just a sense of the Lord’s presence as we go about our daily tasks, perhaps his presence in nature. We are journeying ultimately towards the Lord, journeying towards resurrection, but the risen Lord is also journeying with us, and every so often he will make his presence felt if we are alert and awake to him, if, in the words of the gospel reading, we try to listen to him.

And/Or

(v) Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord

We often say of people that they were beaming. Some joy they experienced left them radiant in some way, if only for a short while. Perhaps you might be able to think of times in your own lives when you might have appeared like that to others and call to mind what it was that brought it about. Today’s feast recalls a moment in the life of Jesus when he appeared radiant to his disciples. Today’s gospel reading is from Mark; it is only Luke among the gospel writers who tells us that Jesus went up the mountain to pray. Jesus’ prayerful communion with the Father left him radiant; in the words of the gospel reading, he was transfigured. Perhaps at the heart of this transforming experience was the sense that Jesus had in prayer of God’s unconditional love for him, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved’. If we could grasp with our hearts that sense of God’s unconditional love for us, we too would be transfigured. Bathed in the light of God’s love from which nothing can separate us, we too would be radiant. To some extent that is what we mean by heaven, that unmediated experience of God’s unconditional love, the fruit of which is transformation, the bringing to perfection of our humanity. The disciples shared in some sense in Jesus’ transfiguring experience. ‘It is wonderful for us to be here’, Peter said. They anticipated the experience of heaven. The Lord will grant us too those moments which anticipate our ultimate destiny, if we are open to receive them from his hands. They may come to us on the mountain of prayer or in some unexpected way in the midst of our daily activities.

And/Or

(vi) Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord

Today’s gospel reading is Luke’s account of Jesus’ transfiguration. It is only Luke who tells us that Jesus was transfigured ‘as he prayed’. He had taken Peter, John and James up a mountain and they saw Jesus transfigured while he was at prayer. As Jesus opened himself in prayer to his loving Father, his divine glory shone through his humanity, and his disciples saw him as they had never seen him before. It was, in a sense, a glimpse of heaven, which is why Peter exclaimed, ‘It is wonderful for us to be here’. Every experience we have of the Father’s love, of God addressing us as beloved son or daughter is an anticipation of heaven, our ultimate destiny. Such moments can come to us on the mountain of prayer; they leave us transfigured in some sense. We cannot manufacture such moments. They come as pure grace, as sheer gift, as we try to open themselves to the Lord in prayer. We do not pray in order to receive such graces. In prayer we seek the God of consolation rather than the consolation of God. Yet, when we come before the Lord in prayer, we will find ourselves wonderfully graced at times. Like Peter, we will want to prolong the moment. Yet such moments are only ever glimpses of what awaits us beyond this life. The mountain of prayer is not an escape from the journey of life with its share of sorrows, disappointments and struggles. Luke tells us that on the mountain Moses and Elijah spoke to Jesus about his passing that he was to accomplish in Jerusalem. Even on the mount of prayer Jesus was very aware of his passion and death which awaited him in Jerusalem. His prayerful communion with his Father strengthened him to walk that journey in a spirit of total faithfulness to God. Our prayerful communion with the Lord strengthens us to walk the journey of life in a way that is faithful to what the Lord desires for us.

And/Or

(vii) Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord

This morning’s gospel reading describes an extraordinary experience that Peter, James and John had of Jesus on top of a mountain. Jesus had just spoken about himself as the one who must undergo great suffering at the hands of his enemies and be put to death by them. There can be no doubting Jesus’ humanity. He entered fully into the human condition, to the point of sharing our darkest experiences. However, on the mountain, Peter, James and John had an experience of the other side to Jesus, his affinity with the heavenly world, his intimacy with God who calls Jesus ‘my Son, the Beloved’. His divinity shone through his humanity and it transfigured him. Our gospel reading is taken from Matthew’s gospel, and at the very beginning of that gospel the child Jesus is given the name Emmanuel, ‘God with us’. In Jesus, God walked among us, but Jesus’ full humanity made it difficult for people to grasp that Jesus was the Son of God as well as the son of humanity. However, on the mount of transfiguration, the disciples were overpowered by God’s presence breaking through Jesus’ humanity. It was such a wonderful experience that Peter wanted to prolong it. Having caught a glimpse of heaven, as it were, he didn’t want to come back down to earth. Yet, the disciples didn’t need to remain on the mountain to experience God’s presence in Jesus. Jesus remained God with us when he came down the mountain, even as he hung from the cross. We believe that Jesus was unique among all human beings that every lived or ever will live, because he was God with us in human form. That is why the word that came from God to the disciples on the mountain was, ‘Listen to him’. We listen to Jesus in a way that we listen to no one else, because of who Jesus is, the suffering Son of Man who is also the beloved Son of God. We can’t all have the experience that Peter, James and John had on the mountain. However, we can all listen to Jesus, allowing the words he spoke to shape our lives, to inform our consciences, to warm our hearts, to guide our steps. Jesus’ words found expression in the life he lived. He not only proclaimed God’s word; he is that word. His life, death and resurrection is a word that continues to speak to us. God the Father continues to say to all of us, ‘Listen to him’.

And/Or

(viii) Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord

Peter’s comment in this morning’s gospel reading, ‘Master, it is wonderful for us to be here’, can find an echo in our own lives. It can remind us of those moments in our lives when we too felt it is wonderful to be here. Each of us is likely to have at least one experience when we could have said with Peter, ‘Lord, it is wonderful for us to be here’. The experience that moved Peter to say this was the vision of Jesus transfigured on the mountain. The gospel reading says that Peter and the other two disciples saw Jesus’ glory. They sensed God’s presence in Jesus in a way they had never sensed it before. It could be said that this was an experience of heaven, of Jesus’ heavenly glory. Those who get a taste of heaven in this life do not want to let it go. Peter too wanted to preserve this experience, ‘Let us make three tents...’. This vision needed to be preserved, Peter felt. However, it could not be preserved. Jesus, along with his three disciples had to come down the mountain. He had to face into what the gospel reading calls ‘his passing which he was to accomplish in Jerusalem’, his passing over from this world, his death. His disciples had to face into it too. This was just a momentary grace given to sustain them. Such graces are given to us all if we are open to receive them. Every so often the Lord will give us too a sense of his presence in our lives, to sustain on our life journey.

Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland.

Email: [email protected] or [email protected]

Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ie Please join us via our webcam.

Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC.

Facebook: St John the Baptist RC Parish, Clontarf.

Tumblr: Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin.

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overlordofthelollipopguild · 6 years

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Broken Souls Mend Hearts - Chapter 87

And here is another update. Fingers crossed that I can keep the ball rolling on this fic. The next chapter is still in the winter, but chapters after that will have time skips so we’ll get through the Eight Months Arc.

Feel free to comment on these posts or ask questions. Also my ask box is always open.

Here’s the fanfiction link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9905481/90/Broken-Souls-Mend-Hearts

Enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 87: Pieces

The monkeys were nearing a castle.

Grace didn't recognize it, but from where she was, it looked ominous. Still, it would be nice to be in a shelter and warm, because she was freezing and starving. She missed her parents. Why had she run away again? For attention. What did she get instead? Kidnapped by flying monkeys.

They entered the castle through a terrace and the monkey holding her dropped her on the stone floor.

Grace glared up at them. She quickly got to her feet, ready to make a run for it if she got the chance. Unfortunately, two monkeys watched her while another one flew away.

They were watching her with menacing eyes.

She looked around the room she was in, searching for a weapon, when a woman entered the room.

"Go away!" The woman snapped at the monkeys. "Shoo!"

The monkeys growled at her before leaving.

"Infernal pests." The woman huffed. She turned towards Grace.

The woman was pale with reddish orange curly hair and sky blue eyes. She looked to be in her thirties. She was dressed in simple peasant clothes.

Grace eyed her warily. "What are they?"

"Flying monkeys." The woman said. "I found them in this castle. They were the only residents. They tried to run me off, but you just have to show them who the boss is and they back off." She smiled proudly at that.

"They kidnapped me." Grace said. She wasn't sure what to make of this woman. Who decides to live in a castle with flying monkeys?

"Oh dear." The woman gave her a pitying look. "I'm so sorry. I can't exactly control them. I mostly can just get them to leave me alone." She walked over to Grace. "What's your name?"

"Grace." Grace told her. "Grace Hatter. I live in Regina's...Snow White's castle. No one's really sure who's the owner now."

"Ah." The woman said. "You must've been taken by the curse then."

"You weren't?" Grace asked.

"No, I was with a group of people that were protected from the curse." She explained.

Grace recalled hearing that Cora had cast a spell that trapped the rest of the Enchanted Forest leaving some people behind.

"I'm Lena." The woman said. "Are you hungry?"

Grace wasn't sure whether or not she should trust this Lena, but she'd been kind so far. She was certainly better company than the flying monkeys. "I'm starving, but I need to get home."

"Oh, sweetie, the castle you call home is some days away." Lena said. "It's much too cold and too dark to travel right now."

That wasn't exactly what Grace wanted to hear. "My parents will be looking for me." At least she hoped that they were. "I need to get home."

Lena had a contemplative look. "I'll tell you what, why don't we get food and you can stay the night? Tomorrow we will figure out how to get you home. Does that sound good?"

It really did sound good. Grace was tired and hungry. Food and rest would do her a lot of good. "Okay."

Lena gave her a wide smile. "Good. Come on, then."

Killian rocked Liam to sleep, singing softly to the baby. It had started to snow outside again and Killian once again found himself grateful for Regina's warming spells; the tents were a haven of warmth and protection.

Liam's little eyes slowly drifted closed.

Killian continued singing to ensure Liam was deep in sleep. When he felt that Liam wouldn't wake, Killian gently set the infant down on the pallet in their tent. "There, there, little one." He spoke softly. "Sweet dreams."

The tent flap was pulled up, before Blackbeard stepped inside. He settled in near the flap and secured it shut again.

While Killian and Blackbeard has talked some after Will's outburst, Killian was still hurt by his brother's deception. It would take a while for him to heal. Even so, there was a hopeful spark that Killian felt; one that hoped that he and Blackbeard would some day be brothers again.

"He's growing." Blackbeard said, looking down at the baby with a fond smile.

Killian nodded. "Aye." He watched Blackbeard for a moment.

The man looked tired; not from the lack of sleep, so much as he looked to be feeling his true age.

"Did you manage to talk to Will?" Killian asked carefully.

"No." Blackbeard sighed. "I waited up for a bit, but he and Alice hadn't come back yet. When they had, it was late. I didn't want to risk a fight and have everyone lose their sleep." Or was it that he still feared facing Will?

"Yet, now you can't sleep." Killian said. He understood. Sleep often eluded him when he was troubled as well.

"It seems to be evading me." Blackbeard said. "I heard you singing and figured you'd be awake for a bit."

Killian nodded. He was emotionally tired, but his mind hadn't let him rest. There was too much going through his head. "Anything in particular on your mind?"

"Mostly I'm wondering what to say to Will." Blackbeard said. "Wondering how to earn his and your forgiveness, and hoping that one day I will succeed."

Killian shrugged. "I'm not sure how you'll manage that. All I can say is that you just can't let us down again. And no more secrets and lies."

Baby Liam made a noise, catching Killian's attention so that Killian missed the apprehensive look on Blackbeard's face.

There were secrets that Blackbeard swore never to tell Killian. He had promised their parents that Killian would never know the truth. Killian's life might still very well depend on those secrets.

When Killian was sure that Liam wasn't going to wake up, he turned his attention back to his brother. "Will doesn't need empty promises. False hope is one of the worst things that you can give a person."

"Killian, I don't intend to leave either of you again." Blackbeard's tone was firm. "I don't intend to let you down." He hoped that he could keep his word. Hopefully the secrets he carried would stay with him and Killian would never have to know the truth.

Killian regarded his brother for a moment, before he nodded. "Good."

They let silence fall between them, neither quite sure what else there was to say.

Blackbeard finally broke the silence. "Why did you name him after me?" It was a question that he'd been wanting to ask since the naming ceremony.

Killian looked back down at his son. "It was actually Emma, who suggested it. I mean, I wanted to name him after you, but I wasn't sure of Emma's thoughts on the matter. We were discussing names and she brought it up first, because she knew how much you meant to me."

"I'm not that man anymore." Blackbeard sighed. Though he was touched at Emma's thoughtfulness.

"I think he's still in there somewhere." Killian said, meeting his brother's eyes. "He just got lost and he hasn't found his way back."

"What makes you so sure?" Blackbeard didn't know if he could ever be Liam Jones again.

"Because I lost myself to the darkness within." Killian said. "I turned pirate when you died, but then I met a woman. I fell in love with her, my Milah. She was my first love and I thought it was True Love, but she was murdered in front of me by the Dark One and I sought revenge against him. I spent three hundred years seeking my revenge. Then the curse came, and then I met Emma. She changed everything. She brought back the honorable man that I had been. I had locked that part of me away, but she was my light, banishing the darkness that was in my heart. If I can come back from that dark a place, then I know you can too."

Listening to his younger brother's story gave Blackbeard both hope and an insatiable curiosity as to how his brother's life had been without him. He wanted to know more of Killian's story; he wanted to know all of the pain and happiness that Killian experienced without his big brother around. "I'd like to know more about your life. I've missed, so much after all."

"I'd like that." Killian said. "I'm sure you have many stories as well."

Blackbeard's lips curved upwards. "It's late. We shall continue this another time."

"Aye." Killian agreed.

"Get some sleep, little brother." Blackbeard ruffled Killian's hair.

"Younger brother." Killian automatically corrected as Blackbeard left, chuckling as he exited the tent.

A small smile graced Killian's face.

Perhaps, they were on the path to becoming brothers again after all.

The pre-dawn air nipped at Jefferson's skin and he prayed for the first time in years that Grace was safe and somewhere warm, naming every god that he could think of, begging them to protect her. He knew that Grace had become distant since their return to the Enchanted Forest, but he never imagined that she would run away.

He should've talked to her; get her to open up. Maybe if he had, she wouldn't have felt the need to run away into whatever dangers awaited in the now unfamiliar Enchanted Forest.

The snowy landscape before him was silent and still, but Jefferson knew that anything could happen in the woods.

God, if anything happened to Grace, he didn't know what he would do. She was his little girl. For so long, it had just been the two of them, and then the curse separated them for twenty-eight long years. He finally got her back, and they were a family again.

Now, he had failed her. Somewhere in the last five weeks, he hadn't been the father that Grace needed. Jefferson swallowed thickly as tears prickled his eyes. He would do anything to get Grace back, and he just…he needed her to be okay. He needed his little girl back in his arms; back home, safe and loved. It ate at him to think that Grace was out there alone, facing the wintery landscape, likely not packed for such an endeavor. Grace hadn't been trained for wilderness survival.

He hated how helpless he felt.

"Stop moping." Granny groused from behind him. "Blaming yourself isn't going to do anyone any good."

Jefferson turned around, shooting her a sour look. "It is my fault though. She's my daughter, and she ran away."

"I raised a daughter and then her daughter." Granny said. "It's never easy with daughters, but you learn over time that you can't prevent every bad thing that happens to them and you can't control their actions."

"But she's my responsibility." Jefferson argued. "I'm supposed to protect her."

"Every parent wants to protect their children." Granny said. "From the time that little baby is placed in your arms until the day you die, you will always want to protect her. The older children get, the harder it becomes."

"Seems that way." Jefferson said. "I just…I don't know why she ran away and the fact that she's out there, alone, probably cold and hungry…she's not exactly prepared for that. I never taught her things outside of foraging for mushrooms and berries and starting a fire. She doesn't know how to fight animals or ogres or how to navigate…"

"She's going to be okay, Jefferson." Granny looked at him with a soft, knowing look that only a mother could have. "I don't know why Grace ran away, but I do know that we will find her.

Jefferson sighed. "I hope so."

"We will." Granny said. Her tone left no room for argument as if she knew that they were going to find Grace. Her eyes glared at him as if daring him to contradict her. "Say it, boy."

His back straightened automatically at her tone. "We will find her." He said it with such conviction that he seemed to convince himself.

They would find Grace.

He knew that they would.

Granny had a smug smile on her face as if she knew exactly what he'd been thinking. "Sun's up." She said. "It'll be time to go out again soon." Granny headed back inside.

Jefferson looked back out at the woods. "We'll find you, Grace. I promise. When you come home, we'll be a family again."

"Do you think there's a chance any tracks will be found?" Belle asked as she and Robin walked through the woods.

The snow covered the ground in a thick blanket.

"Doubtful with all this snow." Robin sighed.

The search for Grace had only been renewed for an hour, and the sun was still low on the eastern horizon.

Belle looked around them. Snow and trees and people scattered around them looking for Grace. "There's got to be a better way of searching for her."

"Come on." Robin led her further away from the castle. "We need to search further than yesterday. She wasn't found anywhere near the castle, so we'll need to keep an eye out for natural shelters or any makeshift ones."

Belle nodded and followed along.

They walked for a long while; Robin paused a few times here and there to try and decipher the path ahead of them, but so far they had found nothing.

With no signs of Grace, Belle couldn't imagine how Jefferson and Ruby were coping. There was so much snow after last night. It was thick enough that it engulfed Belle's boots with every step.

They must've walked for over an hour when Belle heard a horse snorting.

Robin put an arm out to stop her and maneuvered himself in front of her.

Ahead of them, a horse with a hooded rider was making it's way towards them.

"I don't recognize that horse." Robin said. "We need to be careful." He removed his bow from his back and took an arrow from his quiver. He wouldn't shoot, but it was best to let the stranger know that they were armed. Robin readied his bow as the stranger came closer. "Who are you?"

The rider pulled his horse to a stop. "Sir Maurice." The rough voice answered.

Belle stilled in surprise. "Papa?" She moved around Robin to get a better look.

Her father pulled back his hood. "Belle? Is that you?"

"Papa, what are you doing here?" Belle asked as her father dismounted.

"You weren't answering my letters." Maurice said. "I wanted to come and see if you were all right." He pulled her in for a hug.

Belle returned it; happy to see her father despite the circumstances.

"What are you doing out here in this cold?" Maurice asked as he pulled away.

"Let's walk back to the castle, and I'll tell you on the way." Belle looked over at Robin. "Are you going to keep looking?"

Robin nodded. "I see one of the dwarves over there. I'll join up and we'll keep looking."

Belle turned to her father. "Come on, we'll go get warm and get some food."

With the snow, they had hunkered down in their tents, which didn't allow Blackbeard much of a chance to talk to Will.

His son was avoiding him. He knew that much. Ever since Will found out the truth about his identity, the younger man had gone out of his way to keep away from Blackbeard. Even now, Alice and Will's tent was pitched further away on the opposite side of the clearing.

He was glaring out the tent flap, trying to decide if he should try and brave the snow. That was, if Will or Alice would even let him inside the tent to talk.

"Go on, then." Tink said. "You can't glare at the snow all day."

"I know." Blackbeard sighed. "I just don't know what to say to him."

"Listen to your heart?" Tink threw him a cheeky grin.

"Har har har." He rolled his eyes. "Will I still be welcome in your bedroll if I come back with my tail between my legs?"

Tink patted his cheek. "So long as you tried."

Blackbeard looked back out across the clearing at Will and Alice's tent. "Okay." He took a breath before exiting the tent. His feet crunched in the snow as he walked; there was no chance of sneaking up on them. He stopped before the closed flap. "May I come in?"

"No." Will said at the same time Alice said "Yes."

Unsure which one of them to listen to, Blackbeard stayed right where he was. He heard harsh whispers before the tent flap was pulled back. He moved out of the way as Alice exited the tent.

"Talk to him." Alice gave him an encouraging smile. "I'll be with Tink if you need me."

He grimaced as Alice walked away, silently lamenting the lack of a buffer between him and Will now. Blackbeard ducked inside the tent before he could change his mind.

Will was sitting at the back of the tent, pouting.

It took a lot of effort not to smile in amusement at the sight of his grown son pouting like a child who'd been told off. Blackbeard closed the tent flap and sat in front of it to block off Will's escape route. Blackbeard licked his lips nervously. "Will…"

The other man didn't acknowledge his presence.

"We need to talk." Blackbeard continued. "There's a lot I need to say."

Will scoffed. "I really don't care."

The clench in Will's jaw said otherwise.

Blackbeard knew then that Will was more Jones than he cared to admit. In fact, Killian had the same jaw clenching habit. He wondered what became of Will and Killian's history together after his "death." He sighed; if he could handle Killian, he could definitely handle Will. The only problem was that, despite his words, Will was a lot more angry than Killian and had a lot less wisdom in these matters. Perhaps, it was because Killian had grown as a person with Emma by his side or perhaps it was because Killian understood things as only a father can. Will…Will just seemed like an angry, little lost boy, who wanted to lash out but didn't know how. Blackbeard wondered if perhaps he needed to push his son into anger and then they could get past this. They needed to talk things out, and if Will wanted to be angry, then perhaps taking that anger out on his father was just what he needed. A little push was in order. "Do you, now? Well, ignoring me isn't going to make this go away."

Will finally looked at him with a glare so fierce it rivaled Killian's darker looks.

"I'm your father." Blackbeard knew saying that would get Will to talking all right. "We need to talk about what that means."

"You're not my father." Will snapped. "You fucked me mum and left her with me. Ya never did a damn thing that a father should do for his son."

While he knew that Will was right, the words still hurt Blackbeard. He had never been good at explaining why he couldn't have been there for Will. Olivia hadn't seen fit to inform him of his son's existence until she needed monetary support, and by then Blackbeard had had duties to the Royal Navy and Killian. As much as he wanted to be in Will's life, he couldn't stay in one place and he didn't want to take Will from his mother. Having lost his own mother and then his foster mother, Blackbeard knew the sting of being an orphan all too well. He thought leaving Will with his mother was for the best. "I will never forgive myself for that. I wanted to do right by you, but I just didn't know how."

"Ya didn't even try." Will snarled. "Ya barely showed up when you could. All you ever did was use the navy as an excuse. Ya never wanted me or to be a father, so you can plead and apologize all you like, but I just don't care. I never needed ya before and I don't need ya now."

"Then why are you so angry?" Blackbeard asked softly. "I think you care more than you want to admit."

"I don't bloody care." Will looked like he wanted to punch him. "I don't want to hear your excuses or apologies either. Get out."

"Will…"

"Go away." Will's tone left no room for argument.

Blackbeard gave him a nod before stepping out of the tent. They weren't done; they were far from it, but Blackbeard would give Will some time and his space. But he would try to talk to Will again. He wasn't going to give up; this time, he was going to do right by his son.

Zelena was glad that her glamour spell was holding up. Green skin would be off-putting to anyone, especially a child. Though something told her that Grace was braver than the average twelve year old.

They had finished eating some vegetable stew that Zelena cooked up. It was a recipe her adoptive mother had often made when Zelena was young, and it had brought Zelena comfort as a child.

Grace ate it up like it was the first meal she'd eaten in forever. When Grace finished her second bowl, she wiped her face with a napkin and looked up at Zelena with a bright smile. "Thank you, ma'am, for the stew. It was delicious."

"Please call me Lena." Zelena returned Grace's smile. "It was no trouble at all. It's nice to finally have human company after so long."

"Yeah, I can't imagine them being very good company." Grace said. She gave Zelena a curious look. "Why are you alone? Don't you have a family or any friends?"

Zelena's face fell, forgetting to play her role, as Grace's question hit her in the gut. Family and friends was all that she wanted.

Grace noticed the saddened expression. "You don't have anyone, do you?"

"I did have someone once." Zelena answered honestly. "My adoptive mother. She was very kind, but she passed away when I was young."

A wave of sympathy struck Grace.

"My mom died when I was a baby." Grace told her. "It was just me and my dad for a long time."

Zelena nodded. This was a change of topic that she could handle, and it would help her steer it towards getting information. "Where's your dad now?"

Grace picked at the wooden table. "He's at the castle. Probably looking for me."

"Do a lot of people live at the castle?" Zelena asked.

"Too many." Grace said. "Refugees from Storybrooke. When spring comes though, we're going to build a village for everyone."

"Oh?" Zelena asked. This was good. She could get all the information she needed from this girl.

"Yeah." Grace said. "Or that's the plan as far as I've heard. Adults don't really talk to kids that much about these kinds of things."

Zelena patted Grace's hand sympathetically. "One day, I'm sure you'll be in on all the big plans."

"Maybe." Grace said.

"Who else lives at the castle?" Zelena asked.

"Just about everyone." Grace said. "My dad's girlfriend Ruby, then there's her grandmother Granny. Granny has a boyfriend, Marco. He has a son August. Then there's Snow White and her husband David. There's Regina, Robin Hood, fairies, the dwarves…"

Zelena made a mental list of all of those people and she would make sure to ask Grace more about them.

Grace paused. "Do you want to come and stay at the castle? It's better than staying here with a bunch of monkeys."

"I couldn't impose." Zelena said. "It sounds like there are others who need to live there more than I do. I have plenty of space here."

"I don't think anyone would care." Grace said. "There are a lot of people there, and when spring comes and the village is built, then there will be more room."

There was sincerity in Grace's offer.

Zelena wasn't sure though. Regina knew what she looked like, which could be solved by another glamour spell, but it was risky. The time travel spell was her goal now, and she did need to infiltrate the castle in order to find the ingredients that she needed, but she couldn't live there. It was worth a shot. She could put on a second glamour spell for Regina only, and then she could get to know her enemies. "I'll take you home, Grace, but I won't make any promises."

Grace seemed a little disappointed. "Okay."

Zelena smiled at her. "Why don't you and I see if we can find something to do in this musty, old place?"

They had heard Will's raised voice and then footsteps indicating that Blackbeard had left, but he hadn't returned to his and Tink's tent. That left Tink and Alice more time to talk.

"Well, it didn't sound like that went well." Alice sighed. She had hoped that perhaps forcing Will and Blackbeard would lead to them to the father-son talk that they needed to have. Unfortunately, Will was too stubborn. Alice remembered the whole Will being angry with Killian situation well, and she felt like this was going to be a repeat.

Tink patted her hand. "Will will come around."

"You should've been there after the curse broke." Alice said. "He was holding a grudge against Killian and it took forever for him to forgive him."

"Blackbeard won't give up." Tink said. "I'll make sure of that."

"I'll try to talk to Will too." Alice sighed. "I can't believe after all this time Will has family coming out of the woodwork."

Tink nodded. "Who knows who might pop up next. Blackbeard never did mention his parents. Or maybe a crazy uncle will appear."

Alice laughed. It was ridiculous to think that the Jones men still had more living relatives after three hundred years. "So how did you and Blackbeard meet?"

"Oh, much like how I met his brother." Tink said. "Except that I met Killian first and didn't actually manage to hurt him. When I met Blackbeard, I might've hit him over the head with a coconut."

"What?" Alice's eyes widened.

"Well, I didn't know who he was, and I knew Killian's crew had left Neverland." Tink said. "I thought he was some ruffian out to do harm."

"So you hit him…with a coconut?" Alice shook her head. "Didn't you have a weapon?"

"I acted on instinct." Tink defended. "The coconut was in my hands, and he was close by, so I acted."

"And how did that go?" Alice asked.

"It knocked him out." Tink said. "So I tied him to a tree."

"He didn't take that well, I supposed?" Alice was very amused. It was similar to her first meeting with Will, though she hadn't knocked him out and he had been caught in her net rather than tied up.

"He woke up a little bit later to me waving a dagger in his face." Tink continued. "He said "You know, I like to be romanced before I let a lady tie me up." Then I acted all threatening. He was just amused. Then I accidentally dropped the dagger on his crotch, and I'm so glad he was only hit by the hilt."

Alice snorted. "Oh my God."

"After that he managed to swipe the dagger, cut himself loose, gave me back the dagger, and then asked if I'd like to get something to eat." Tink said. "And that's how we ended up together."

"That's a story to tell the grandkids." Alice said.

Tink stilled at her words. She had no idea if children were even in her and Blackbeard's future. It was time for a change of subject. "So, how did you and Will meet?"

By the time Blackbeard came back to the tent, the girls were in fits over Alice's tales of Wonderland and Tink's story of how Blackbeard had a misadventure with his leathers that had forced him into wearing a grass-skirt. "What's so funny?"

The girls stopped laughing, surprised to see him, then they shared a look and started another laughing fit.

"I think I'll just go back to my tent now." Alice wiped her eyes. She patted Blackbeard's shoulder. "No hula dancing without supervision, okay?"

Blackbeard looked confused before his eyes bugged out in realization. "You told her?"

Tink's laughter rang out through the camp.

Belle finally found herself in front of a fire with hot tea and her boots kicked off. After she had brought her father to the castle, she had gotten him settled in quickly before going back out to join the search. Her feet were aching, but they only had so many horses that were spread out amongst the searchers.

She could do without.

Unfortunately, they still hadn't found Grace.

Ruby and Jefferson were going crazy with worry.

Belle knew that the en masse search would be called off soon, because Grace had gone farther than anyone had thought. She had asked David earlier what the plan would be now, and he said the best thing would be for Jefferson and Ruby to take the horses with a group and keep the search going further. Belle wanted to join them, but with her father here, she needed to see what he wanted.

Though she dreaded that conversation. Her father's earliest letters had said that he wanted her to come home. But her old home, the place where she grew up, where she lost her mother, that wasn't her home anymore and she could never go back there. Her father wanted her to get married and have a family. She just lost Rumple, but her father had never understood their love. She hoped that her father was just here for a visit, and that he would leave the matter alone, but she wasn't optimistic that he would.

"Belle, there you are." Her father appeared at her side.

"Hello, Papa." Belle managed a small smile.

"Have they found the girl?" Maurice asked.

Belle shook her head. "Not yet, but I know they'll find her. Her parents are taking a smaller group to ride out further and keep up the search."

"That's good." Maurice said. "I hope they find her. I know what that's like, losing your little girl, not knowing when you'll see her again."

Belle sighed. "Papa, I made that choice, and it helped our people. A lot of good came out of that decision."

Maurice made a noise of disagreement. "Belle, I was hoping that we could talk about you coming home."

Belle was not ready for this conversation. "Papa, it's been a very long day, can we talk about this tomorrow?"

"I can't stay here long." Maurice told her. "There are things back home that need my attention. I'll have to leave tomorrow."

"You came all this way to bully me into going home with you, didn't you?" Belle stood from where she sat, grabbing her boots. "I won't be bullied. I'm going to bed."

"Belle, I want you to come home." Maurice said. "I miss you."

"I miss you too, Papa." Belle said, the fight leaving her. "But I'm needed here. I don't want to fight either. We'll talk in the morning, okay? Before you leave."

Maurice sighed, letting her go. He'd talk some sense in her tomorrow.

Ruby patted her horse on the nose.

Jefferson and August were still saddling theirs while Granny and Marco packed up all of the saddle bags.

"You'll find her." Snow said, coming to stand next to Ruby.

"I know." Ruby nodded. There was a determined glint in her eyes. "I just wish that her scent hadn't disappeared."

After she and Jefferson had searched his old home, Ruby tracked with her nose, and found Grace heading in a different direction, but her scent stopped at one point. It was mixed with animal scents that Ruby hadn't recognized, but there wasn't any blood anywhere and some bird feathers that smelled strange. The hope was that Grace's scent just hadn't been strong enough.

"I wish David and I could come with you." Snow said.

"We understand." Ruby gave her a reassuring look. "You two need to stay here and be the leaders. Everyone needs you. Besides, Jeff, August, Granny, Marco, and I can handle this."

Snow hugged her friend tightly. "Good luck, and be careful."

"We will." Ruby said.

Once the saddle bags were on the horses, the search party mounted.

It was dark, but they couldn't wait until morning. Grace had already been gone too long.

They had lanterns, but Ruby and Granny's senses would have to guide them on their way.

"Pick up anything?" Jefferson asked Ruby quietly as they led the group.

"Not yet." Ruby said. "I figure our best chance is to go back to where we lost her scent. We'll keep heading in that direction."

Jefferson nodded. "We'll find her."

He seemed to be saying that more to reassure himself than as a statement.

Ruby reached over and took his free hand. "We will."

Jefferson squeezed her hand tightly.

"We won't be able to travel long." Granny piped up. "The temperature is dropping fast. I say we get to where we lost her scent and decide from there to either go a little further or camp for the night."

"That sounds like a plan." Jefferson agreed, though he was reluctant to. Grace had been gone too long and he'd rather freeze to death as they searched, but he knew that that wouldn't help Grace. They needed to be smart about this. It was already risky heading out at night in the cold, and if Granny and Ruby weren't werewolves, then he doubted they'd be out right now at all.

"Regina cast the warming spells on our tents at least." August said. "We could go a little further on. Brave the cold for a bit."

"We could." Marco agreed. "We need to find Grace."

"We will, but we have to be sensible." Granny said. "If any of us get hypothermia or pneumonia, then we'll have to turn back. We need to be careful."

"We will, Granny." Ruby reassured her grandmother, despite knowing that she'd prioritize Grace over her health if she could get away with it. She wanted her daughter back in her arms. She needed to find her and take her home.

Marco straightened in his saddle. "There is no time to waste then."

The fire light caught Killian's attention as he drifted awake. It was late at night, that much he could tell, but someone had restarted the fire.

Killian looked over at his sleeping son before putting on his leather coat to go and check on whoever was outside.

Will said nothing as Killian joined him by the fire.

Killian had heard his raised voice earlier and he peaked out in time to see his brother leaving Will and Alice's tent. He deduced that Blackbeard's earlier visit was keeping Will awake now. "So, you and your father talk yet?"

A low grumble was Will's warning to back off.

Killian rarely backed down. "You know, it might do you some good to bury the hatchet."

Will glared at him. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Why are you so angry?" Killian asked, despite suspecting he knew the answer. He cared little for the father that abandoned him, but he'd still be angry at the man if he met him today. He'd still want answers as to why his father had left him; why he wasn't enough. Will was just like any other abandoned child; he wondered the same things himself.

There was nothing but tense silence offered as a response.

Killian sighed. "If my father were here, I'd be angry, but I'd still want answers. Unlike my father, your father is a good man. A good man that made mistakes. Everybody makes mistakes, Will, and most people regret their mistakes. I know that Blackbeard has a lot of regrets. I know that you think you're just hurting him with your anger and avoidance, but you're hurting yourself too. You can't let this anger rule you. You're a good man, Will, but you're letting your anger eat you alive. Don't do that. You'll heal better if you both talk through this."

There was nothing more that he could say to convince Will that he needed to talk to his father. Killian stood to leave.

"Why?" Will asked.

Killian paused and looked down at the young man. "Why?"

"Why didn't he try harder?" Will asked. "Why did he barely acknowledge my existence?"

Sitting back down, Killian sighed. "The truth of the matter was that your mother didn't want him around. He's too honorable to drag her name through the mud, but he didn't know Olivia like you and I did. At least not until that day…that day he found me at the post."

Will shivered at the memory. "He was furious with her, with the town…I didn't see you again for another year after that."

"Well, I wasn't keen to risk going back there and becoming the town whipping boy again." Killian tried to be casual about it, but the scars that littered his back still ached from time to time, especially in colder weather.

"I still can't believe my mother volunteered you for that." Will whispered. "After my stepfather died, she just became so…neglectful. Then Penny died and it was unbearable."

"And my brother had no idea." Killian said. "I never told him, because I didn't want to relive those memories, and she was your mother, I never thought she'd turn against you. If my brother had known, he would've taken you from her, but he didn't and he wasn't the kind of man to take a child from his mother."

Will let out a shaky breath. "Did he ever want me?"

Killian contemplated his answer. "I think he did on some level. Will, you have to understand, Blackbeard took care of me for most of his life. He never had the chance to have a childhood. He could never be carefree or have fun. He's been responsible since I was a babe. Fatherhood was something he'd been doing his whole life. I think actually having you, I think it scared him. I wasn't easy to handle, and I think he felt responsible for how I turned out. I think he was afraid of screwing you up."

"At least, I would've known that he cared." Will said.

"Will, he's always cared." Killian reassured. "He does love you. He's just unsure of himself. Talk to him. Let him know how you've felt, tell him the truth, and clear the air."

Will still seemed reluctant to do so.

Killian squeezed Will's shoulder. "Just think about what I've said." He stood again and returned to his tent, hoping that he managed to get through to his nephew.

Liam was still sleeping when he returned.

Speaking about fathers and sons with Will had put an ache in Killian's chest.

Killian gently smoothed back the boy's dark hair. "I love you." He kissed Liam's head. "I'll always be here for you."

The baby moved slightly in his sleep, but didn't wake.

Killian lied back down and stared at the roof of the tent waiting for sleep to come.

His name was tickling the back of her mind. Emma knew that it was and it was driving her crazy that she couldn't remember it. She'd been dreaming of the pirate for weeks now, and she knew that his name was lost somewhere in the void that was her brain. But no matter how hard she tried to remember it, it wouldn't come. It was like there was a block in her head that refused to budge.

She tried to forget about it. What did it matter? He was just a figment of her imagination. But the damn pirate wouldn't leave her alone during her waking hours, anymore than he had during her dreams.

Even though that was the case, it nagged and nagged at her. She started calling him Hook in her head just to get the nagging thoughts to shut up. Emma wrote down more about him in her journal, hoping that that would help. Hook fit him, sort of, but it wasn't his true name. It wasn't who he really was, but she felt that it was a part of him, somehow.

Her hand cramped from all of the writing she'd been doing. Putting her pen down, she massaged her hand and looked out her window. Her head wanted to stop thinking about the pirate, but her heart and her instincts told her that there was more to him than just being a dream.

She wished that she could figure out why she was having these dreams at all. Part of her wanted the dreams to stop, but another part of her despaired at the thought. What the hell was she going to do if these dreams didn't stop? What would she do if they did stop?

Henry might've been on to something. A lot had happened to them these past weeks, and there was more to these dreams.

Emma was scared to find out though. She was scared that there was a truth behind these dreams that she wasn't ready to face yet. It didn't make any sense to her really, but it was how she felt.

Her headache was getting worse. It was almost as if trying to get a breakthrough on these dreams caused the headache. Like there was something that prevented her from remembering the whole story.

Emma checked the time. It was late and she really needed to go to bed. But going to bed meant more dreams. Emma groaned. Did she want these dreams to stop? She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of anything really. All that she knew was that she was tired. Physically tired, of course, but her emotions were all over the place. That had been since…since she lost her baby boy.

Tears stung at her eyes.

She needed to go to sleep, before the painful memories kept her up.

Grace was sleeping now, but she had been a wealth of information when she was awake.

Zelena felt more confident about approaching the castle and it's residence. She knew the main players, and she knew what they were about.

What really interested her though was Grace's talk of the Savior, her son, and her pirate. Apparently, Rumple's curse that Regina had set in motion had had a clause that allowed the Savior to break it.

Emma Swan. Such a pretty name for a hero. Though from what Grace had told Zelena, the Savior hadn't returned to the Enchanted Forest with everyone else. No, the curse wouldn't bring one of the Savior's children over, so Emma had no choice but to stay in the Land Without Magic without her memories.

Her pirate, on the other hand, was brought back to this land with their younger child. According to Grace, he had left the castle in search of a way back to the Land Without Magic, back to his True Love.

Zelena wondered if he would succeed in that endeavor.

It did make Zelena wonder if this Savior would foil her plans. Zelena didn't know how she could being in another realm with no memories, but her gut feeling told her that she needed to be wary of any mention of the Savior. The Savior was a product of True Love; she carried light magic. If Zelena wasn't careful, it could lead to her enemies recruiting the Savior to stop her.

She had to be very careful. Suspicions could not be placed on her for any reason as she infiltrated the castle to find her ingredients.

Grace was her way in. She'd return the girl to the castle, and gain the favor of Grace's parents and their allies. After all, she did rescue the girl. It's not like she ordered her monkeys to go and get her. They thought Grace would be a nice meal, but Zelena hadn't let that happen.

In the morning, Zelena would take Grace back to the castle, and Zelena would begin her plans. She would ingratiate herself, become a friend, an ally, and then she would find what she needed for her spell. Once her spell was complete, then she'd finally have a family and friends.

The nagging feeling that what she was doing was wrong was something that she could shove aside. So what if it was wrong? If it helped her achieve her goals, then what did it matter?

Still, as she looked at the sleeping Grace, her heart tugged with guilt.

Zelena tried to shove that guilt aside and get some sleep.

Belle found her father the next morning, and braced herself. She wasn't going to budge on her decision. Unfortunately, she had a feeling that her father wasn't going to budge either. She didn't want to argue with him on the matter, but she wasn't going to give in.

Still, as she walked over to her father, she hoped that things would turn out well. She hoped that they could come to an understanding on the matter. "Good morning, Papa."

"Good morning, Belle." He smiled though there was worry in his eyes.

Belle took a steadying breath. "What did you want to talk about?"

Maurice leaned back and gave her a stern look. "When are you coming home?"

It was just as Belle had dreaded. Her father wanted her to return to a place that was no longer home. "This is my home, now. For the time being."

"This isn't a home." Maurice said. "It's a refuge. You can't hide here forever, Belle."

Belle bristled at his comment. "I'm not hiding. I'm doing good here. I'm helping people."

"What about our people?" Maurice said. "I know we're not royalty, but as a part of the landowning nobility, we have a responsibility to the people who live on our land. We have a responsibility to the village."

"Things have changed, Papa." Belle said. "I'm not a little girl anymore, and there are more people that need my help."

"We need you to come home." Maurice insisted. "Help us rebuild. Help us come together. Marry a good man with prospects. Someone who could help us."

Like a prince or another noble? Belle thought bitterly. What about her feelings? She just lost Rumple. He had sacrificed his life for all of them, and he sacrificed their future. Belle needed time to mourn. Why couldn't her father understand that? "I just lost Rumple…"

"The Dark One was never a candidate." Maurice said. "He used you…"

"He loved me." Belle countered, feeling the sharp sting of anger at her father's words. "He wasn't a good man, but he was trying. He was trying to change for me, and in the end he sacrificed his life to save me. To save all of us from Pan. He's dead because he did the right thing."

Maurice didn't seem convinced. "Then come home. Mourn there. You need to be with people who love you."

"I have people here." Belle said. It was true. She had her friends. They supported and helped her. They weren't trying to force her to do anything that she didn't want to do.

"Belle." Maurice was losing his patience. "It's time to come home."

"That place isn't my home." Belle snapped. "It hasn't been for a long time. I don't want to go back. This place is where I am doing good, and it's where I feel like I belong."

"You belong with your family." Maurice said.

"You don't want me home to be a family." Belle said. "You want me to sell to the highest bidder now that the Dark One is gone and can't help with the ogres."

"That's not true." Maurice protested feebly.

"The hell it's not." Belle stood from the table. "Go back to your home, Papa. I will not be your political tool."

"Belle, that's not…"

Maurice's protests were ignored as Belle left him, swiping at the tears that leaked from her eyes.

Grace and Zelena had been walking for hours towards the castle, which Zelena could find with a navigation spell, not that Grace knew that. For an observant little girl, she was very oblivious to Zelena's magic. Though Zelena was trying to be extra careful. She didn't want the fact that she had magic to be common knowledge.

People were naturally suspicious of magic after all.

Zelena knew though that the castle was still a few days away on horseback, but Grace didn't know that as the flying monkeys were extremely fast flyers, so Zelena froze Grace and teleported them a long way from the castle so that it would seem like Zelena lived closer. That way if Grace brought up the castle where Zelena found her, no one would suspect that it was the Dark One's castle.

While they walked, Grace chatted about all sorts of things, and Zelena couldn't help but be charmed by the girl. She really was a sweet kid.

A twig snapped.

Instinctively, Zelena grabbed Grace and put the girl behind her. "Who's there?"

There was silence at first, but a horse appeared out of the brush, with a rider a top it.

A man in his late thirties with dark brown hair and blue eyes looked at Zelena with suspicion, before his eyes went to Grace. "Grace?"

"August!" Grace ran out from behind Zelena.

The rider, August, dismounted and swept Grace up into a tight hug. "Do you have any idea how worried we've all been? Your parents have been going out of their minds with worry." He set Grace back down.

Grace looked up at him with a guilty look. "I'm sorry. I just…I'm sorry."

"Let's get you back." August said. "Your parents, Granny, and Papa are close by. We all rode out to find you."

"Okay." Grace looked back at Zelena. "Come with us, Lena."

"Oh, uh, I don't know." Zelena couldn't stop staring at August. He was a handsome man. She'd never seen someone as handsome as he.

"Who are you?" August questioned, his stance becoming protective.

"This is Lena." Grace said. "She saved me, and she was bringing me home."'

Still uncertain as to whether or not to trust Lena, August stepped forward carefully, holding out his hand. "August Booth. I'm Grace's uncle. Or, well, close to it. Her future stepmom is probably going to be my future stepsister someday."

Zelena smiled and took his hand.

Both of them ignored the jolt of electricity at the touch.

"Lena." Zelena said. "It's very nice to meet you, August."

"So, if you're coming back to the castle, you might as well come back with us." August said. "You did save my niece's life after all. I know her parents will want to meet you."

"Really, it wasn't…I was just doing the right thing." Zelena said. There was something so unnerving about August's presence. Zelena wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Nonsense." August took his horse by the reins. "They're close by. Come on."

He led his horse, Grace, and Zelena to the spot where he had split off from the others. "Ruby! Granny! Jeff! Papa! I found someone!" He knew that they would be able to hear him, even without the ladies' werewolf hearing.

The sound of horses racing back towards their direction was clear in the silent forest.

Jefferson reached them first, stopping his horse, practically falling off the saddle when he dismounted as his eyes were on Grace. "Grace!" He ran over to her and engulfed her in a tight embrace.

"Papa, I can't breathe." Grace gasped.

Jefferson set her down and cupped her face. "Don't you ever, ever runaway like that again. Do you hear me. Your mother and I were so scared. What happened?"

Before Grace could answer his question, more horses appeared, and Ruby hurried over and took Grace into her arms.

"Thank God you're safe." Ruby finally felt the aching in her heart ease. "What happened? Are you hurt? Are you okay?" Ruby frantically looked over Grace for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine, I promise." Grace insisted. "Lena saved me."

"Lena?" Jefferson asked. "Who's Lena?"

"I…" Zelena took a hesitant step forward. "I'm Lena."

Jefferson stood protectively by his family.

Granny held her crossbow, ready to fire it if necessary.

Marco didn't seem to see anything wrong with Lena, smiling happily at the fact that Grace had been returned to them all unharmed.

"What happened exactly?" Ruby asked, also wary of the woman.

"Well, there were these beasts." Zelena said. She wasn't going to reveal they were her monkeys. "And they had her, and I just…I was scared, but she's just a little girl, so I scared them off."

"It was funny." Grace said. "She told them off and they left with their tails between their legs. Then Lena took me in and feed me, and let me stay the night."

"I was bringing her back to you when August found us." Zelena finished the story.

Relieved that Grace was all right, and that this woman had indeed saved her, Jefferson stepped forward and shook her hand. "Thank you. For everything."

"As I told August, it was just the right thing to do." Zelena said.

"If everyone is good to go, we should get back." Granny said. "Let everyone know that Grace is found and celebrate our hero."

"Oh no, that's not necessary." Zelena protested. "I didn't really do anything. I'm not a hero."

Grace stepped forward. "Please, come back with us."

It was all a part of Zelena's plan, but she found that she genuinely didn't want to say no to Grace.

"It's the least we can do." Ruby insisted. "You saved her, so let us thank you properly."

Zelena still hesitated, the guilt of deceiving them eating at her. Instead, she gave a small, timid smile. "All right."

Ruby and Jefferson mounted their horses again, with Grace joining Jefferson.

"You can ride with me." August offered.

Zelena's stomach fluttered as he held a hand out to her. He pulled her up behind him, and they were off, heading towards the castle, Zelena's plan falling into place.

The problem now was trying to keep her distance, because Grace and even August were already under her skin.

#captain swan #cs au #cs ff #broken souls mend hearts #bsmh

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