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Chapter Text

Chapter One: The Road Less Traveled

                The threads of fate posed so many possibilities; each flashed before her eyes for the briefest of moments before disappearing like dust in the wind.  But in each possibility she saw the sorrow and pain of her siblings and sought to correct it.  There!  She tugged on the strand and time stood still. This was the best possibility, the one with the least suffering.  She knew now why Aslan had given her this gift.  So many roads that could have ended tragically for the Royal Four, but this one—it was a long road and lightly traveled, but somehow Lucy knew that it was the one that they must follow.  A small tug was all it took for her to alter their fate.

“Do we have any Lucky Charms left, Papa?” asked the brunette teenager, rummaging around in the near empty pantry.

                “I don’t know why you eat that crap, Lenore,” said the middle-aged man, leaning heavily on his cane as he carried two bowls and two spoons to the small kitchen table.

                “Oh, Papa, it’s all about taste,” Lenore said with a small laugh.  “Besides that, I’m a teenager; I’m genetically pre-programmed to like sweet stuff.”  She finally found the near empty box of her favorite cereal hiding way in the back.  “You want the Cheerios this morning or oatmeal squares?”

                “Cheerios, please,” the man said.   He sat down heavily in the wooden kitchen chair and leaned his cane against the table.

                “We need to go grocery shopping soon, Papa,” said Lenore, shutting the pantry door with her bare foot.  She set the two boxes on the table and stepped over to the shiny silver fridge to get the carton of milk.  “Do you want a banana with your Cheerios?  We’ve got a couple left.”

                “Only if you have some too, Lenore dear,” he replied.  “You know I hate it when you eat only that sugary crap before school.”

                Lenore laughed and set the milk and a banana on the table as she took her seat beside her Papa.  “Split one instead?” she bargained.

                “Oh very well,” he said with a sigh.  “I hope your lunch is healthier than this.”  He eyed her bowl with disgust as she poured the cereal jam-packed with colorful marshmallows into it.

                “Today’s taco day,” she said with a cheeky grin.

                “Of course it is,” he said with a sigh.  He reached over and picked up the Cheerios, pouring his bowl about half full.  As Lenore poured milk into her cereal, he cut the banana in half.  He set half in front of his daughter and the other half was cut up further and put into his bowl.  “Shall we go to the market after you get out of school this afternoon?”

                “Yes please,” said Lenore, her spoon raised halfway to her mouth.  “I don’t know about you, but I can’t eat spaghetti for one more night.”  Her Papa chuckled; such was a typical morning at the Gold house.

Tobias Gold had just turned forty-three when he met her.  Tabitha Roland was a grad student at Boston College at the time.  She was passionate, fiery, and wild and she had such big plans for her life.  She was something of a classic beauty with her porcelain skin and raven curls, which framed her oval face and accentuated her eerie blue eyes.  Men flocked to her like flies to honey and she loved it.  One day she took pity on the crippled, middle-aged lawyer who had come to speak in her ethics class.  She invited him to lunch at a cozy, off-campus diner that was frequented by the more serious-minded grad students and the rest was history. 

He was hooked right from the start.  She was everything he never knew he wanted in a woman and so much more.  Unfortunately for him, she was above all else a gold-digger looking for some poor old sap to latch onto like a leech so that she could drain him dry.   Once she had sunk her claws into Tobias, he was helpless to break free.  He wasn’t stupid; he noticed that she always wanted to go to the fanciest restaurants and that only the most expensive gifts would please her vain little heart, but he was simply so deeply infatuated with her that he didn’t care.

Lenore had always preferred to walk to school, despite the distance.  Her father, for the most part, indulged her, though he did insist on giving her a ride from their home into town.  Most days Lenore allowed this, though on occasion she rose extra early just so that she could walk through the woods that stood between their old Victorian house and the town.  Today she allowed her Papa to drive her to his shop before walking to school from there.  As always, she paused in front of the old library, topped by a large clock that was stuck perpetually at 8:15.  She waved to Archie and Pongo as they passed by on their morning walk and smiled shyly at the Mayor, who would occasionally smile back at her.  Today was not one of those days.

She found out why when she arrived at school.  She was greeted by her friend Paige Francis, a blonde girl four years below her.  “Did you hear?” the younger girl said, tugging Lenore by the arm into Miss Blanchard’s classroom.  “Henry’s missing!”

“What?” cried Lenore.  Henry Mills was the same age as Paige and the three kids were thick as thieves.  The two ten-year-olds were in Miss Blanchard’s fourth-grade class together, but they always managed to find Lenore during lunch and at recess to spend time with the older girl.  To hear that Henry was missing was jarring, to say the least.  “What happened?”

Paige tugged Lenore, who was about the same size as her, into one of the desks in the back of the room.  “No one really knows,” she whispered.  “Madam Mayor is frantic; I guess he didn’t show up to therapy with Archie last night.”  It was one of the town’s worst kept secrets that the mayor’s son was in therapy.  “She has Sheriff Graham running himself ragged trying to track him down.”

“He didn’t say anything to you?” asked Lenore.

“No.  You?”

Lenore shook her head, her chestnut waves falling into her face.  “He’s been oddly distant lately,” she confessed.  “He’s been reading that fairy tale book Miss Blanchard gave him a lot.”

“Has he told you his theory?” asked Paige, her dark brown eyes curious.

“No he—”

“Lenore, shouldn’t you be headed to your own classroom?”

Lenore looked up at Miss Blanchard sheepishly.  “Sorry, Miss Blanchard,” she said.  “Paige was just telling me about Henry.”

Miss Blanchard’s green eyes softened.  “Yes, we all heard about that.  Well, you know I don’t mind you girls talking before class, but I also know that Mr. Peace doesn’t like his students to be tardy.”

“Of course, Miss Blanchard,” said Lenore, picking up her yellow daisy-covered backpack from where she had dropped it by the door.  “We’ll talk more at lunch, Paige,” she called back to her friend as she ventured into the last minute crush of students in the hallway rushing to beat the bell to class.

Tobias and Tabitha were married on a sunny Saturday afternoon in late June.  Theirs was a whirlwind romance, full of fire and passion.  But despite Tobias’ best efforts it was snuffed out like a flame before it had a chance to grow.  Three months into their marriage, Tabitha announced her pregnancy.  Tobias had been so overjoyed at his impending fatherhood (something he was sure he would never get to experience so late in his life) that he failed to hear the disappointment in her voice as she gave him the news.  He failed to see the slight frown that would become a permanent fixture on her otherwise perfect face in the months to come.

Tabitha gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl as March roared in like a lion.  Friends and family alike were too polite to mention the young mother’s cold disinterest in her child or the way that she would avoid holding her, as if she were afraid the child would pass on some disease simply by touching her skin.  Tobias himself was too enraptured by this small being that he had helped to create, and that had been entrusted into his care, to notice anything beyond his precious baby girl.

“I think I saw Henry’s birth mom today,” said Paige, plopping herself down by their tree on the edge of the playground.  It had always been their tree since…well, since longer than Lenore could remember.

“What makes you think that?” asked Lenore, idly braiding her chestnut hair into two plaits.

“Well, she came in to class today with Madam Mayor and they were asking Miss Blanchard about Henry.  I kind of stayed behind to listen, and get this: Henry stole Miss Blanchard’s credit card to find her!”

“He stole a teacher’s credit card?  I’m sure my Papa would have helped him if he’d asked.”

Paige rolled her eyes.  “You seem to think your papa runs around helping people, Len.  I’ve told you a million times, people are afraid of him.”

Lenore huffed and flipped her messy braids over her shoulders.  “He’s just misunderstood.  He’s really a big old softie at heart.”

Paige laughed.  “Yeah, and I’m the Queen of Hearts.”

Lenore grinned.  “Nah, I know you’re too nice for that.”  She glanced around to see if they were alone.  “We really should make sure Henry is okay,” she said, her voice low.

“He’s probably at the castle right now,” said Paige.  The girls looked at each other, stormy blue meeting loamy earth.  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I’m thinking my Papa’s going to kill me for this, so probably not.”  Paige giggled.  “Hey, you’re lucky your parents are so laid back.  Is anyone watching?”

Paige glanced around.  “Nope, we’re clear.”  The girls silently made their way to the bushes lining the fence and ducked behind them, finding the familiar child-sized hole in the chain link and passing their bags through.  With one last glance to make sure no one was watching, they crawled through as well.

“We’re getting too big for this,” said Lenore, dusting her skirt off as she stood up.

Paige snorted.  “Speak for yourself, Thumbelina.”

Little Lenore Ariel Gold was only six months old when Tabitha left, disappearing from her daughter’s life forever.  Tobias knew that Tabitha had been unhappy and that she had not bonded with their daughter the way that he had (she had him wrapped around her tiny little finger and he was not ashamed to admit it), but he had no idea how long or how seriously she had been planning her departure until a week after she had left.  He stepped out onto the front porch one morning and found a packet containing divorce papers with Tabitha’s elegant signature already on them lying underneath the daily paper.  Had she not already left, he would have lectured her about how one did not simply leave important documents lying out for anyone to come and take, but she was gone and there was nothing he could do about it.

Paige and Lenore ran all the way through town, down to the ocean where the castle lay, sitting just ahead of the shore line.  As they approached, they finally slowed down to a walk.  There was Henry, storybook and all, sitting on the castle with his brown hair blowing in the faint ocean breeze.  Sitting beside him was a blonde woman whom Lenore had never seen before.  She was wearing a red leather jacket and leaned close to Henry, intent on her conversation with the boy. 

“That’s the woman who showed up in the classroom today,” Paige whispered to her.

Lenore had had enough.  Never one for inaction or cowardice, she called out, “Henry!” and walked the last few steps to stand near his dangling feet.  “We were worried!  Where have you been?”

Henry looked down at her, smiling.  “Sorry, Len,” he said.  “I was in Boston.”

“What were you doing in Boston, Henry Daniel Mills?” she said, her blue-grey eyes narrowed and her hands on her hips.  “We were all worried sick about you!”

“Is this her, then?” Paige asked, stepping up to join her brunette companion and eyeing the blue-eyed woman suspiciously.  “Is she the reason you were in Boston?”

“Yeah, this is Emma,” he said, smiling at the woman.  “She’s my birth mom.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Miss Emma,” said Lenore, climbing up the play castle to join them.  “I’m Lenore.”

“And I’m Paige,” the blonde girl added, ignoring the ladder and climbing the sides of the wooden structure like a monkey.

“I was under the impression that Henry didn’t have any friends,” said Emma as Lenore plopped down beside her and Paige sat gracefully on Henry’s other side.

“You’re been talking to Regina, haven’t you?” said Lenore.

“Well, yeah…”

“Madam Mayor doesn’t like me,” said Paige, slinging her arm around Henry’s shoulders.  “She thinks my parents have corrupted me with their ‘immoral, hippie ways’ and that I’m a bad influence on her precious son.”

“And she usually prefers to pretend I simply don’t exist,” said Lenore, smiling at Henry.  “She doesn’t think it’s natural that a thirteen-year-old girl would want to hang around a couple of ten-year-olds.”  She shrugged.  “I say, what are a few years between friends?  Age is just a number, after all.”

“My mom likes to look for the worst in people,” said Henry.

“And so she pretends you don’t have any friends?” asked Emma, raising a delicate eyebrow.  “That really doesn’t make much sense, kid.”

The boy shrugged.  “I never said it did.”

It had been two months since Tabitha’s departure (taking with her a piece of Tobias’ heart, all of his respect for her as a human being, and a sizable chunk of his personal fortune) and Tobias was already beyond sick of the empty condolences and not-so-subtle looks of pity sent his way by his so-called friends and colleagues.  In a spur of the moment decision, he decided to move back to his childhood home in Maine with little Lenore.  The small town would be the perfect place to raise his precious daughter and the inhabitants were all too scared of him and his family name (thank the Lord he’d had the sense to keep anything connected to his family’s fortune far away from Tabitha) that they’d never dare to bother him or his precious little princess.

As Tobias drove across the town line, he glanced back at the wide eyed infant in the rear-view mirror.  The tiny brunette was taking in the change of scenery through the windows as she contentedly sucked on her thumb.  He smiled a rare, but genuine, smile full of love and affection as he snuck another glance at the blue-eyed baby that was his whole world.

“Welcome to Storybrooke, Lenore Ariel.”

Lenore liked to tag along with her Papa when he collected rent.  Although most everyone in Storybrooke was frightened of the man, they all adored his daughter.  She followed behind her father every rent day with the loyalty and enthusiasm of a small puppy.  No one could resist her charms, especially not her Papa.  Most everyone always had a smile for her and some of the older ladies liked to ply her with cookies or candy.  Her absolute favorite place to visit on rent day, however, was Granny’s.  Inn or Diner didn’t matter because Granny had taken a shine to the small-for-her-age teenage girl and would always have some sort of treat and a kind word for her.  Granny’s treats were the best; homemade cookies, pies, cakes, brownies, candies…and her fudge, which was nothing short of heavenly.

When they arrived at Granny’s Bed and Breakfast, Lenore was surprised at how quiet it was.  Nearly every time they stopped by, Granny and Ruby were going at it like cats and dogs.  This time there was nothing; not even quiet seventeen-year-old Tori Lucas, who liked to read her thick, leather-bound novels curled up in an armchair front of the fireplace in the small lobby of the inn.  Instead, as Lenore and her father approached the small room that held the little-used check-in counter, she saw a vaguely familiar woman with long blonde hair talking with Granny.

“Now, what’s the name?” Granny asked the woman.

“Swan.  Emma Swan.”

“What a lovely name,” said Lenore’s Papa, coming up behind Emma.  A strange…something…passed through his eyes, but it was gone so quickly that Lenore let it be.

“It’s all here,” said Granny gruffly, handing Lenore’s Papa a folded wad of cash.

“Of course it is dear,” he said.  “Enjoy your stay in Storybrooke, Miss Swan,” he added.  “Lenore?”

“I’ll be along in a minute,” she said, looking imploringly at Granny.

As always, her sweet face and innocent puppy eyes melted Granny’s gruff exterior (she was really a big softie at heart).  “I just finished making a batch of double chocolate chunk cookies,” she told Lenore.  “I’m sure Ruby won’t mind taking you to get some.”

Lenore turned her puppy eyes on the older girl whose dark brown hair held a multitude of bright red streaks.  “C’mon kid,” she said with a mischievous grin.  “I know where Granny hides the good stuff.”

Ruby led Lenore into the small kitchen of the inn, located just off of the back room used to store records and files.  From there, she could still hear everything Emma and Granny said to each other.  Lenore sat down on a wicker bar stool at the kitchen’s island while Ruby pulled out a basket full of Granny’s cookies.  As the two girls sat down together and had their treat, they listened in (dropped their eves, as it were) on the ongoing conversation.

“Who were they?” asked Emma.

“That was Mr. Gold and his daughter.  He owns this place.”

“The inn?” asked Emma.

“No, the town,” said Granny.  “Welcome to Storybrooke.”

                Aslan gave her a gift as she hugged him goodbye.  She breathed in his scent as he whispered in her ear words that would change her fate forever.  She felt a warm tingling sensation spread through her from top to toe as his sweet breath tickled her ear.  They drew apart, Lion and his truest believer, and as they parted their eyes locked.  His amber eyes were so very old and sad, so full of wisdom and mystery.  In that moment when their eyes locked, honeyed amber on stormy blue, as His gift settled within her, she saw a thousand different, fleeting possibilities.  A noble ship on a treacherous sea; a fiery inferno and a mournful whistle; a battle axe dripping with blood in the midst of a field of carnage; a lonely imp with ageless eyes, a dark heart, and a sad secret.

                “Thank you, Aslan,” Lucy whispered, “but how shall I know what to follow?”

                “Be the Valiant Queen I know you to be, my Lioness, and you shall know.”

                Lucy nodded and joined her siblings in front of the door in the air that Aslan had created to take them back to their world.  She grabbed Peter and Edmund’s hands tight in her own as Susan said her own goodbyes to Caspian, the new King of Narnia.  The Royal Four were to go through Aslan’s door first, thereby setting an example for the Telmarines who wanted to follow.  Susan joined hands with Peter and the Pevensie siblings stepped through the door together.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two: I’m Wishing

Emma had been sleeping in her yellow bug for a couple of nights, ever since Granny had been forced to kick her out of the inn (some stupid, obscure law that prevented her from renting a room to anyone with a criminal record).  Mary-Margaret had caught her and had offered her a place to stay, but Emma was reluctant to accept the offer.  Her experience being shunted from foster home to foster home growing up had made her jaded and stubbornly independent and thus reluctant to accept help from anyone, even a potential friend.

Then the fiasco at the hospital with John Doe (whose real name turned out to be David Nolan) happened, all because Henry insisted that Mary-Margaret should read him the story of Prince Charming and Snow White from his storybook.  She had seen the look of devastation that crossed the raven-haired schoolteacher’s face when Regina brought in David Nolan’s wife and for some reason that affected her more than she thought it should.  The truth was that Emma had never really had any friends before, but with Mary-Margaret there was the potential for something great.  As she watched Mary-Margaret watching the reunion between Kathryn Nolan and her amnesiatic husband with a look of devastated longing in her eyes, something twisted deep in her gut and she found herself wanting to do something to help the kind, gentle woman.  She wasn’t one for physical or emotional displays; Emma was one who lived by the philosophy that actions speak louder than words.  It came suddenly to her, hitting her like a freight train: she knew how she could help Mary-Margaret.

Mary-Margaret Blanchard was almost thirteen when her baby brother was born on a cool evening in late September.  Little John-Jacob had not been planned, but he was most certainly well-loved.  Their parents loved their little boy and Mary-Margaret adored her little brother.  He was a small baby right from the start and he shared her pale complexion and raven hair, but where she had their mother’s lovely green eyes, John-Jacob had inherited their father’s dark, deep brown eyes.

Life was wonderful for the Blanchard family of Storybrooke, Maine.  Mary-Margaret was a model student who volunteered at the hospital and the convent as much as her young age would allow (which, in a small town like Storybrooke, was a great deal more than it would have been anywhere else).  John-Jacob (people usually shortened his name to Jake) grew quickly from an adorable infant to an inquisitive toddler to an active and imaginative little boy.  Through it all, his favorite person in the whole world (much to his parents’ chagrin) was his big sister.

“Is that room still available?” Emma asked Mary-Margaret. 

The raven haired woman stared blankly at the blonde standing in her doorway for a moment then smiled.  “Of course,” she said.  She held the door open and Emma took that as an invitation to come in.

“Nice place,” said Emma, looking around the spacious apartment.

“Thanks,” said Mary-Margaret.  “Do you want to see your room?”

“Sure.”

Mary-Margaret led Emma up the stairs.  “My room’s downstairs,” she told the blonde.  “There are two rooms upstairs.  This one’s yours,” she added, pointing to the door on the left side of the hallway.

“What’s the other one for?” asked Emma, noticing the Hulk poster on the door.

“Oh, that’s Jake’s room,” said Mary-Margaret casually.

“Jake?  Who’s he?”

“He’s my little brother.”

“You never mentioned you had a little brother.  Or that he was living with you.”

Mary-Margaret guiltily lowered her eyes.  “I know,” she said.  “I’m sorry.  If you don’t want the room anymore, I’ll understand.”

Emma saw the sadness in her green eyes and her anger softened.  “I still want to stay,” she said.  “I was just surprised.”

“Oh good, I’m glad,” said Mary-Margaret, relieved.  “I really am sorry I didn’t mention him sooner, but we’re kind of a package deal.”

“So can I ask why you have your kid brother living with you?”

“It’s not really something we like to talk about,” admitted Mary-Margaret.  “It’s sort of a painful topic for both of us.”

Everything changed when Jake was six.  Mary-Margaret, who was almost nineteen, was away at Boston College when it happened.  She was woken late one night in October from an exhausted post-study stupor by a phone call.  She almost hadn’t answered it because she had been up all night and had only just fallen asleep some thirty minutes earlier, and when she did, she wished that she hadn’t. 

It was the Storybrooke Sheriff calling to inform her that her family had been in a car accident near the town border.  Her parents and the driver of the second car had been killed on impact, but Jake—little Jake, the light of her life—was alive and had been rushed to the hospital in serious condition.  After she hung up, Mary-Margaret rushed to grab her purse and car keys, not even bothering to change out her pajamas and barely remembering to pull on a pair of sneakers and a worn sweater (that had once belonged to her father) as she rushed out the door.

She booked it all the way to Storybrooke, breaking several speed limits along the way, and made it to the hospital in record time.  When she finally arrived, Jake had just come out of the OR and was in stable condition, recovering in a private room.  Mary-Margaret thanked God for small favors and refused to leave her sleeping brother’s bedside for any longer than it took to use the restroom.

“Did you know that Mary-Margaret has a little brother?” Emma asked Henry as the two of them ate a late lunch together at Granny’s Diner.

“Everyone knows Jake,” said Henry, munching on his fries.  “He’s a sophomore in high school.  He’s really smart, but he’s also kind of a loner.  I think most people forget about him unless they’re actually talking to him...or standing right next to him.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” she asked.

Henry shrugged.  “I guess no one thought to mention it.  Everyone knows Jake.”

“So you’ve said.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Henry’s two closest friends.  “What are we talking about?” asked Paige, sliding into the seat next to Henry and snagging one of his fries.

“Hey! Get your own!” protested the brunette boy.

Lenore rolled her eyes as she slipped into the spot next to Emma.  “Like that ever works,” she said.

Paige shrugged.  “Pilfered fries are tastier,” she said.

“Then why do you always slap me when I try to take yours,” muttered Henry, resigned to his friend’s fry-stealing ways.

“Perks of being a girl,” said Paige, staring at him with a raised eyebrow as if daring him to question her logic.  “So, what are we talking about?”

“Jake,” said Henry, attempting to save his hot cocoa from Paige’s pilfering ways.  “You don’t even like cinnamon in your cocoa, Paige,” he whined, pulling a face.  “Can’t you order your own?”

Paige smiled prettily at him.  “But you make such lovely faces when I take yours, Henry dear,” she said.

Lenore smiled at her two best friends.  She was sure Henry hadn’t realized it yet, but Paige had a bit of a crush on him and lived for moments like this.  “So why were you talking about Jake?” she asked Emma as Henry and Paige continued their bickering.

Emma looked at the petite brunette as if she didn’t quite know what to make of her.  “I just moved in with Mary-Margaret,” she said, “and I didn’t know she had a brother.”

“Ah,” said Lenore, smiling as Ruby brought her a cup of lavender vanilla tea (her flavor of the week) and a large snickerdoodle cookie.  “That would be reason enough to talk about him.”

Emma sized up the girl.  She was awfully small for a thirteen-year-old, but she looked happy and healthy.  She obviously didn’t suffer from being Gold’s daughter; Emma noticed that nearly every patron of Granny’s Diner had a wave, a smile, or a kind hello for the sunny, smiling girl.  “You seem to know everyone in this town,” Emma observed.

Lenore blushed.  “Papa owns the town, pretty much,” she admitted, “and I like to go with him when he collects rent.  He thinks it’s just because I like going around and saying hi to everyone, but I also worry about him.  People don’t usually like Papa too much; he’s not really what you’d call a people person, but he loves me.  But we’re not talking about me,” she said brightly, smiling at Emma in a mischievous way.  “You were looking for the dirt on your unexpected new flat mate.”

Emma gave Lenore a half smile.  “You caught me, kid,” she said.  “So what can you tell me about Jake Blanchard?”

The next few weeks passed in a blur of black and tears for Mary-Margaret.  By the time things slowed down enough for her to process what was happening, her parents were buried, her brother had been released from the hospital, and she had officially been named his guardian.  She knew things would never be the same again, but she hadn’t expected the sudden change to Jake’s personality.  It seemed as if overnight he had changed from a happy, inquisitive boy to a quiet, sullen shadow of his former self.

Emma discreetly watched the pale, dark haired teenager as he sat at the dinner table eating a plateful of chicken pasta.  Unlike most teenage boys, Jake picked at his food, barely eating more than a few bites.  He was quiet throughout the meal, responding to his sister’s questions with a series of nods and shrugs.  Come to think of it, Emma was pretty sure she hadn’t once heard him speak.  However, his silence did give her the opportunity to study the strange boy.  At first glance, he looked like a male version of his sister; pale skinned and dark haired, but with dark eyes where Mary-Margaret’s were a gentle green.  A closer look revealed that his face, unlike his sister’s, was spattered with an abundance of freckles and his chin was slightly sharper than Mary-Margaret’s soft, rounded (familiar) one.  His eyes were fathomless; sharp and intelligent, he watched everything like a hawk with the same sort of regal grace that Mary-Margaret herself at times seemed to possess.  Emma could tell that, as much as she was observing him, he was observing her as well.

“May I be excused?”  It was the first thing she’d heard him say and she was surprised to find that his voice was tinged with a British accent.

“Of course, Jake,” said Mary-Margaret.  “Do you need any help with your homework?”  There was something in her green eyes that was so hopeful it was heartbreaking.

“No thanks, Mags,” he said quietly.  He kept his eyes down as he cleared his plate and placed it in the dishwasher in the small kitchen.

“Okay, if you’re sure…”

“Yeah,” he said.  “I’m good.”

As much as Mary-Margaret wanted to stay in town, she knew that she couldn’t if she wanted to have a career that would support not only herself, but her brother as well.  Her parents had not been wealthy, but they had been well-off enough to leave their children enough money to get their daughter through college while supporting a growing boy.  A month after her abrupt departure from Boston, Mary-Margaret was back—this time with her brother.  She got lucky and her teachers and advisor were all very understanding of her predicament and she was able to finish up the semester with the rest of her peers.  She’d given up her dorm in exchange for family housing and by the end of her first week back she had secured a part time job at the campus bookstore.  This enabled her to pay for daycare for Jake while she continued to attend her classes during the day.

Mary-Margaret and Emma sat at the kitchen island drinking hot cocoa with cinnamon after the dinner dishes had been cleaned up.  “So…” said Mary-Margaret when the silence got to be too much, “what do you think?”

Emma set her mug down.  “About your brother?”

                “Yeah.”  Mary-Margaret looked nervous as she spoke, her green eyes fixed on Emma.  “Are you regretting moving in?”

                “No,” said Emma, giving her new friend a reassuring smile.  “Jake seems…quiet.”  It wasn’t what she really wanted to say, but she couldn’t think of any other way to describe the teen.  “Maybe I’m just not used to kids,” she admitted.  “I mean, I’ve never really been around them much, besides Henry, but aren’t they usually…louder?”

                Mary-Margaret smiled sadly.  “Usually,” she said, “but Jake’s not exactly your typical teenager.  I mean, he’s a good kid, don’t get me wrong.  He’s smart, he gets good grades, he rarely gets into trouble, and he’s got a huge heart…he just doesn’t interact well with other people.”

                “Have you thought about sending him to therapy?” asked Emma tentatively, not sure if she was overstepping her bounds or not.  “Not that it’s any of my business,” she added hastily.

                “No,” said Mary-Margaret, “it’s a valid question.”  She sighed heavily and set her mug down on the white counter-top.  “The truth is, I’ve considered it many times, but Jake closes down even more than usual every time I bring it up.  I don’t want to alienate him, Emma,” she admitted.  “He’s the only family I have left.”

                “I think I’m beginning to understand that,” said Emma quietly. 

Mary-Margaret smiled and took Emma’s hand from across the table, squeezing it gently.  “Thank you for caring,” she said softly, her jade eyes filled with emotion.  Emma squeezed her hand back and the two women went back to their cocoa in comfortable silence.

Four years later, Mary-Margaret finally had her degree and was licensed to teach elementary school.  Jake, who was now ten, had spent the last five years attending public school in Boston, but he had few enough friends that she didn’t feel bad about uprooting him and moving them back to Storybrooke.  Mary-Margaret glanced back at her brother, pale and still, sitting in the backseat reading a book of Grimm’s Fairy Tales, and smiled as they drove over the town line.

                “Welcome to Storybrooke, Jake.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Three: I Know Things Now

                “Tori, is your sister in for her shift yet?”

                Tori glanced over at her grandmother.  Granny was starting to get that look on her face that only Ruby could cause.  “I’ll just go check in back, Granny,” she said softly.  “I’m sure she’s just fixing her makeup.”
                “She’d better be,” snapped Granny.  “You need to head out before you’re late for school, Tori.”

                “Alright, Granny,” she replied.  “I’ll just go let Ruby know I’m off.”  She untied her apron and hung it by the kitchen door, smiling at Tara, who was filling in for Tony as cook this morning.

                Tori headed into the laundry room, back past the restrooms.  Ashley, who worked as a maid for both the inn and the diner, smiled at her.  “Ruby’s out back,” she said, jerking her blonde head in the direction of the door.  “Ben stopped by this morning.”

                Tori smiled in thanks.  “Doesn’t he always,” she said.

                “Only on days that end in y,” joked the pregnant blonde.

                “Thanks, Ash,” said Tori.  “I’d better get Ruby in here before Granny has a conniption.”

                “Good luck,” said Ashley, sorting out a basket of dirty laundry on the counter.  “See you after school?”

                “Of course,” said Tori, smiling softly.  Ashley was her best friend, despite the two year age gap and they hung out as often as they could.  “Later Ash.”

                “Later Tor.”  Tori smiled once more and headed out the door.

                Tori stepped quietly into the alley behind the diner, leaning against the brick wall as she watched the oblivious couple make out like they needed to suck the oxygen from each other’s lungs to survive.  A smirk graced her pale face and her pink lips twitched in amusement at the familiar sight.  “You gonna come up for air anytime soon, sis?” she asked.

                The pair jumped apart, looking guilty for about half a second before Ruby groaned.  “Tori,” she said, exasperation evident in her voice, “can’t I have ten minutes alone with my boyfriend?”

                “Hi Tori,” said Ben.  The tall blonde man grinned sheepishly at her, his tanned face flushed pink.

                “Hey Ben,” said Tori grinning back at him.  “I’d love to chat, but I’m actually just here for Ruby.”  She turned her attention to her older sister, who was running her fingers through her red-streaked dark brown hair.  “Granny’s looking for you,” she said.

                Ruby groaned, her forehead falling to Ben’s strong chest.  “What does she want now?” she asked, resigned.

                “It’s time for your shift,” said Tori, pushing off the wall to stand straight.  “I’ve gotta head off to school before I’m late.  Please try not to kill each other while I’m gone,” she teased.  “I like you both too much to look for replacements.”

                Ruby huffed into Ben’s dark blue t-shirt and the man himself grinned brightly at the sisters.  “Get going, brat,” she said fondly.  “I’m sure we can hold off for a few hours.”

                “That’s all I ask,” said Tori.  “See you later, Ruby.  Pleasure as always, Ben.”

                “See you, Tori,” said Ben, waving to her as she headed off onto Main Street.

Ruthie Lucas—known to all as the Widow Lucas or more affectionately as Granny—had never expected to raise any more children once her only daughter was grown and gone.  The trouble started when her granddaughter Ruby was two.  That was the year that her daughter Andrea ran off with her boyfriend, Ruby’s father Kevin.  Granny (who was still getting used to that particular name) was sure that she’d never see her daughter again, but she never held that against her precious granddaughter.  Ruby, with her dark chocolate curls and wide, inquisitive eyes, had her Granny wrapped around her little finger.  Granny didn’t mind though; that girl had quickly become her whole world.

Tori would never admit it to anyone (because everyone expected her to do more with her life), but she actually loved working at Granny’s.  She might not be as vivacious or outgoing as her sister, but she got people.  She knew the value of a few well-meaning words or a simple hand to the shoulder.  Simple and quiet were her ways and she wouldn’t want to be anything else.

Mama Orla and Ms. Morningstar were in this afternoon for coffee and pie.  Tori smiled indulgently as Tara’s mother and grandmother praised her as she refilled their mugs.  She laughed at Mr. McGowan and Mr. MacMillan’s tall tale of the day and smiled indulgently at the constantly bickering pair of Dr. Pietrovitch and his closest friend, Mr. Donaldson.  Today the corner booth held the unlikely (but widely amusing) quartet of friends that was Dr. Brown (the surgeon), Monsieur Terra (the landscape architect), Mr. DiMarco (the demolitions expert), and Claudia Montoya (the eighteen-year-old mechanic prodigy).  As always, she received a chorus of warm (if a bit crude) greetings from them as she took their orders.

Her afternoon has been going well so far (Mr. McGowan and Mr. MacMillan tipped especially well for listening to their stories) and when things went well, she knew that badness was soon to follow (it was the story of her life, really).  Tori really should have been expecting it when she saw them sit down in her section; those MacIntire triplets were a menace, despite their stern mother’s attempts to corral them.  One minute she was carrying a tray with three plates of spaghetti and one of chicken parmesan, the next…she was wearing all of it.

“I’m so sorry, Victoria,” cried Fiona MacIntire, her pale cheeks pink and her Scottish brogue thicker than usual as she attempted to catch the three identical giggling redheaded boys running around and between Tori’s legs.

Tori sighed to herself and smiled at the flustered raven-haired woman.  “It’s all right, Mrs. MacIntire,” she said.  “I’ll get Ruby over here to clean it up and I’ll get Tony to fix up new plates for you.”  Quickly telling her sister what had happened, Tori went into the back and pulled out a spare red-trimmed white uniform dress from the cupboard.  She slipped into the restroom to change and bundled up the dirty uniform and apron. 

The laundry room was already occupied when the brunette teen got back there.  Ashley looked up from pulling clothes out of the dryer as Tori entered the small room.  “The Lloyd kids?” she asked sympathetically, seeing the red-stained white clothes in her arms.

“The MacIntire boys,” groaned Tori, dumping stain remover on the clothes and scrubbing it in.  “Those boys are a public menace, I swear.”

Ashley hummed in agreement and began to fold the clothes she had just pulled out.  “They are cute, though,” she said softly.  “Maybe it’s not so bad if there’s just the one?”

Tori squeezed Ashley’s shoulder and she threw the soiled clothes into the washer with soap and turned it on.  “Are you having second thoughts, Ash?” she asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Ashley, brushing the tears off her cheeks.  “I couldn’t get out of a contract with Mr. Gold even if I wanted to.  No one breaks a deal with Mr. Gold.”

“But if you could?” asked Tori.

Ashley stared down at the white t-shirt in her hands.  “I think I could be a good mom,” she said quietly.  “If I wasn’t such a screw-up…”

“You’re not a screw-up,” insisted Tori.  “You made a mistake, but so did Sean.  Don’t let his dad keep pinning this all on you.  You are a wonderful person, Ashley Boyd, and I think any kid would be lucky to have you as her mom.”

Ruby was almost six when Andrea reappeared one day, pregnant and looking ready to pop.  Granny was wary (rightfully so, as Andrea had already abandoned one child), but she couldn’t find it in her heart to tell her only child no when she asked for a place to stay.  So Andrea wound up staying with Granny and Ruby in the comfortable family suite they shared at Granny’s Inn.  Granny noticed the gleam in her daughter’s eyes right from the start, a gleam like a wolf trapped in a cage, and she knew that Andrea would not stay long once this child was born.

Tori groaned as her phone blared Colbie Caillat’s “Brighter Than the Sun.”  She rolled over onto her side and picked up the offending object, squinting to read the time and caller ID before answering.  “Ash, it’s two in the bloody morning,” she moaned, her English accent (that no one could really explain) thick from exhaustion.  “This had better be important.”

On the other end Ashley sounded teary and panicked.  “I did something really stupid, Tor,” she said.

Tori blinked lethargically and stared at the glaring red numbers on her alarm clock.  “Ashley,” she said, “it’s two in the bloody morning.  If you need help hiding the body, you’ll have to wait til I’m more awake.”  Ashley let out a strangled sob and Tori suddenly felt a lot more awake (it helped that she jerked up and knocked her head against the wooden headboard of her bed).  “Shit, Ash,” she said, “I was just kidding.  What happened?”

“I tased Mr. Gold,” sobbed Ashley.

Tori bolted upright (banging her head again) and began panicking.  “What the hell, Ashley?” she hissed.  “Are you trying to get yourself killed?  No one messes with Mr. Gold.  People who mess with Mr. Gold or Lenore have a tendency to disappear, you know that!”

“I know!” cried Ashley desperately.  “I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t thinking—”

Tori snorted.  “That’s obvious.”  Ashley let out a pained whine and Tori closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  “Okay, Ash, let’s just take a step back.  What happened exactly?”

“I broke into Mr. Gold’s shop to take back my contract,” explained Ashley.  “I didn’t expect him to be there and I guess I just panicked.”

“Ashley, I know you’ve been having second thoughts about giving up the baby, but why would you go do something stupid like that?”

“I was taking my life back into my own hands, like Emma said I should.”

“Emma?” said Tori, brow furrowing in confusion.  “Who the hell is Emma?”

“Henry’s birth mom,” said Ashley.  “She told me that she was just a little younger than me when she had him and gave him up to give him his best chance.  I think—I know I’m my baby’s best chance.  I can do this, Tori.  I know I can.”

Tori sighed.  “You know this isn’t gonna be easy, Ash,” she said.  “And I’m not just talking about the baby.  This thing with Mr. Gold isn’t just going to magically disappear.  The man can hold a grudge like nobody’s business.”  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.  “Where are you right now, Ash?”

“I-I snuck into the Academy playground,” she admitted.  “I know it’s stupid, but…”

“Don’t worry about it, Ash,” said Tori, flinging off her blue flowered covers and getting out of bed.  “Just stay there, okay?  I’ll be there in ten minutes.  We’ll figure this out, Ash, I promise.”

Granny had never hated Andrea, but she began to think that she could.  Andrea had only been in town two weeks and already Ruby was following her around like a little lost puppy.  Granny knew that Ruby would be heartbroken when her mother disappeared again after the baby was born, but she could not bear to be the one to take away that spark of joy that was ever-present in Ruby’s innocent jade green eyes.  So Granny did her best to keep Ruby’s hopes alive, all the while keeping a sharp eye on her daughter, whose restlessness only grew as she drew closer and closer to her due date.

                Tori thought she’d succeeded in sneaking Ashley into the apartment she shared with Granny and Ruby right up until the light flipped on in the living room.  “What’s going on, Tori?” asked Ruby, lounging casually against the hall wall, dressed in a pair of red and black plaid pajama pants and a cropped black tank printed with a wolf howling at the moon.  “It’s not like you to break curfew.  That’s my shtick, remember?”  She gave her sister a predatory grin.  “Good on you, sis.”

                “It’s not like that, Ruby,” said Tori, gently tugging Ashley from behind her.  “Ashley’s in trouble; she needs our help.”

                Ruby’s grin turned to worry.  “What’s wrong?” she asked the blonde teen.  “What happened?”

                While Ashley filled Ruby in, Tori padded softly into the kitchen in socked feet where she put together a turkey and cheddar sandwich for the pregnant girl.  She poured a tall glass of milk and dug out the last two double chocolate chunk cookies from the cookie jar before heading back out to the living room.  Ashley was just finishing up her tale, seated on the couch with Ruby, the outgoing brunette unusually quiet as she held their friend’s delicate hand in a show of comfort.  Tori silently handed their friend the snack she’d put together before perching on the arm of her own royal blue armchair.

                Ruby looked up at her sister as Ashley dug into the food, her jade eyes boring into Tori’s soul.  “So, were you planning on asking for help or were you just gonna keep digging a deeper hole, Tor?” she asked, sounding part amused part exasperated.

                Tori shrugged.  “I hadn’t really thought that part through yet,” she admitted.  “This just seemed like the right thing to do.”

                Ruby gave her a crooked smile.  “You are such a goody-two-shoes,” she said fondly.  “Tell you what, you girls head off to bed and I’ll have everything all figured out by morning, m’kay?”

                Tori squealed as quietly as she could and launched herself at Ruby, squeezing her tight in a hug.  “Thanks, Rubes, you’re the best!”

                Ruby chuckled.  “I know, kiddo,” she said.

                “No really, thank you,” said Ashley, her eyes red from crying, “both of you.”

                The sisters glanced at each other and shrugged in unison.  “What are friends for?” said Tori.

                “We’re not gonna abandon you, Ash,” added Ruby.  “You’re gonna show the world what a great mom you can be.”

                “Thanks,” said Ashley, attempting to smile.  “You guys are the best.”
                “Yeah, we kinda rock,” said Ruby, smiling brightly.  “Now you two kids get to bed before Granny decides to come out and see what all the racket’s about.”

Too soon (and yet not soon enough) the big day arrived.  It was not cries for help or pleas to be taken to the hospital that alerted Granny of the impending birth of her second grandchild, but rather a strange phone conversation she happened to overhear between Andrea and what sounded like Ruby’s (and the baby’s) father, Kevin Capp, in which Andrea promised to meet up with him as soon as the doctors released her.  Granny had no doubts she was serious about that.  Not bothering with pretenses or social niceties, she dragged her ungrateful daughter down to the hospital, thankful that it was still early June and thus school was still in session.  At least Ruby didn’t have to witness her mother’s behavior.

Tori smiled and waved at Billy, who was stopping by to check on Ruby’s car, as she stepped inside the diner after school.  Inside, Ruby was standing by the counter, having an intense conversation with an unfamiliar blonde woman wearing a red leather jacket.  Ruby glanced up at the sound of the bell and gave Tori a quick smile.  Tori unwrapped her bronze and blue striped scarf from her neck and removed her matching blue beret.  “Everything okay, sis?” she asked, sidling up to her sister, her blue eyes bright with worry.

The blonde woman looked at Tori, her face unreadable.  “It’s all good, Tori,” said Ruby.  “Emma here was just asking about Ashley.”

“Oh?” said Tori, raising her eyebrow and keeping her face blank.  “Is she okay?”

Emma fixed her icy, green gaze on Tori.  “She’s missing, actually,” she said.  “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Ash is missing?” said Tori, feigning surprise.  “She seemed fine when we talked after school yesterday.  Did something happen last night?”

“She’s in trouble with Mr. Gold, Tori,” said Ruby, giving her sister a meaningful look that let her know that her plan had already been set in motion.  “Emma says she wants to help her.”

Tori hummed thoughtfully.  “Have you talked to her ex yet?  His name’s Sean Herman; he might know where she’s gone.”

Emma gave her a scrutinizing look.  “That’s what Ruby said,” she admitted.

Tori smiled.  “Well, we are sisters Miss…?”

“Swan.  Emma Swan.”

“Lovely,” said Tori, looking the woman up and down to asses her.  “I’m Victoria Lucas, Ruby’s sister.  Now, if that’s all, I’m due to start my shift soon.  Do let me know if you find Ashley; she’s my dear friend and I do worry so.”

“Of course,” said Emma.  Tori could feel the blonde’s eyes following her until she disappeared into the kitchen, out of sight.

Andrea’s second labor was much longer and harder than Granny recalled her first having been.  Six hours it took before her second granddaughter came into the world.  Personally, Granny thought it fitting penance for a woman who had abandoned her children not just once, but twice.  Once the child was out, Andrea refused to even hold her and gladly signed away her rights for both daughters to her mother.  She didn’t even bother to name the tiny girl child with a garden of chocolate brown hair.  As Granny stared down in wonder at the tiny new life in her arms, she knew she would love this little girl just as much as she did Ruby.

                “Welcome to Storybrooke, Victoria Ann Lucas.”

                Tori knocked softly on the open frame of the hospital room door.  Ashley looked up from the small pink-wrapped bundle in her arms to smile at her friend.  “Come in, Tori,” she said.  “I’m glad you finally made it.”

                “Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” she said, sitting down in the empty plastic chair beside the bed.  “She’s beautiful,” she murmured, staring at the sleeping baby.

                “Would you like to hold her?” asked the new mother.

                Tori smiled brightly.  “Of course,” she said.

                Ashley passed the baby over gently.  “Mind her head,” she said.

                “Oh Ash, she’s perfect,” breathed Tori.  Somehow this felt natural—right—to her, even though she couldn’t remember ever holding a baby this small before.  “What’s her name?”

                Ashley smiled.  “Alexandra Victoria Herman,” she said.  “Sean and I are back together.”

                Tori looked at her friend in wonder, the announcement of her friend’s new relationship status completely ignored.  “You named her after me?”

                “You’re my best friend, Tori, and you helped me out a lot with this whole Mr. Gold thing.”  She paused, continuing, “Sean and I want you to be her godmother, if you’ll accept?”

                Tori smiled brightly.  “I’d be honored, Ashley.  Of course I’ll do it.”

                “Good, ‘cause I wasn’t gonna take no for an answer,” teased Ashley.

                “Of course not,” said Tori, rolling her eyes.  “Hello little princess,” she said, focusing on the tiny blonde baby in her arms.  “I’m your Aunt Tori.  Welcome to Storybrooke, Lexie Herman.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Chapter Five: …And Miles to Go Before I Sleep

                “Emma!” Graham called after his deputy as she left the diner.  “Let me explain.”

                The blonde woman whirled around on the dark street to face him.  “There’s nothing to explain,” she said, her face carefully blank.  “You’re a grown man; it’s none of my business who you sleep with.”

                Graham’s dark eyes filled with guilt.  “I need you to understand.  Regina and I…it’s complicated,” he admitted.  He realized that if he wanted a chance at anything with Emma, he needed to clear the air now.

                “Complicated,” echoed Emma.  “Is that why you feel the need to sneak out of her house like a common criminal instead of using the front door?”

                “She doesn’t want Henry to know,” he admitted.

                “Well at least she’s got that part of her priorities straight,” snapped Emma.  “And why do you need me to understand anyway?”

                “Because…”  Impulsively he darted forward and kissed her.  When he did, something strange happened; he saw flashes of a strange, half-familiar wolf.

Emma pushed him away.  “What the hell, Graham?” she snapped.  “You’re drunk.  That was crossing the line.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.  “I just need to feel.”

“Look,” she said, sighing, “I think we both need some space here.  I need to process…this and you need to sober up.  I’ll see you tomorrow, Graham.”

                “Emma…”

                “Goodnight, Graham,” she called back to him as she walked away.

                Peter had been wandering these blasted woods for a week and still there was no sign of any of his siblings.  The woods were strange and dark, though in places they seemed almost…enchanted.  Peter took to avoiding the main roads (made of dirt and stone) after his near miss with a sinister, black carriage and so spent most of his time in the deepest, darkest recesses of the trees.  It was there that he first came across the Huntsman and his wolf companion, crying over his latest kill and thanking it for its sacrifice.

                “Why do you do that?” asked Peter, stepping out from behind the trees into the Huntsman’s vision.

                “Why should I not,” said the man harshly.  “Is his life any less precious than a human’s?”

                Graham woke the next morning with the headache from Hell and a vague feeling of loss in his chest.  He glanced over and saw that he hadn’t dreamed up running to Regina after Emma rejected him.  The feeling of loss grew until it was a deep, aching throb in his chest.  Mechanically he sat up in the bed.

                “Graham, are you alright?” asked Regina.

                “I had a strange dream,” he admitted.  “I was hunting in the woods and there was a wolf, with one blood red eye and the other black as night.”

                “It was just a dream,” Regina said, trying to sooth him.

                “It felt like a memory,” he insisted, standing to pull on his pants and then sitting back down to get his boots on.

                Regina leaned in close and laid a hand on his arm.  “Stay,” she said, part command and part plea.

                Graham was not swayed.  “I have to go,” he said, his strange dreams making him agitated.  He swiftly gathered his belongings and left by means of the front door.

                Graham walked back into town and made his way to his car over at Granny’s.  He stopped dead when he saw the wolf, a near twin to the one from his dream, standing in the middle of the road just a few feet away.  He fumbled with his keys and dropped them.  He bent to pick them up and when he looked up again the wolf was right there, staring at him.  Startled, he stumbled and the wolf ran off.

                After parking his car at the station and checking in, he wandered around town for a bit on foot.  Eventually he found himself in Gold’s Pawn Shop.  He browsed through the shelves with nothing particular in mind.  It was soothing, in a way, the mindless perusal of Gold’s inventory.  He was nearly startled out of his skin when he discovered he wasn’t the only one there.

                “Can I help you?” asked the familiar voice of Lenore Gold.  The thirteen-year-old stepped out from the back room.  “Papa’s out right now, but I’m more than capable of assisting you should you need it.”

                “Thanks, but I’m fine,” said the sheriff, sparing a small smile for the sunny child.

                Her stormy blue eyes seemed to pierce into his soul as she stared at him oddly.  “Are you alright, Sheriff Graham?” she asked, concern evident in her voice.

                “I’m fine,” he insisted once again.  “Just—strange dreams, that’s all.”

                Lenore made a small noise of understanding.  “I get those sometimes too,” she admitted.

                “Oh?” said Graham, curious for reasons he could not explain.  “What do you dream about?”

                Lenore smiled softly.  “I dream of a beautiful land full of magical creatures and the freedom of sailing the seas,” she said.  “I dream of magnificent royals and glorious battles, but most of all I dream of a Great Lion.”

                Something shifted and crackled in the air when she spoke of the Lion.  Graham shivered.  “It’s a wolf for me,” he said.  “I dream of hunting and of pack, of running free through the woods without the constraints of society.  Mostly though, I dream of the wolf.”

                Lenore smiled serenely.  “Perhaps he is important to you then,” she suggested, “just as I am sure the Lion is important to me.  I might not know how or why, but somehow I know He is.”

Had Peter not once ruled over a land filled mostly with Talking Animals and other magical creatures, he might have answered differently.  “Every life is precious,” he said regally.  “I simply do not often come across men who take the time to admit that.”

                The Huntsman turned to look at Peter, meeting the teenager’s icy blue stare with his own.  “I may be a man by birth, but I hold no respect for the race.  My family is the wolves who raised me and loved me, not the humans who abandoned me and show no respect for other creatures.”

                Peter gave the older man a shallow bow.  “You are wise, Huntsman,” he said.  “I am honored to have met you.  I am Peter, lately of Narnia.  May I know your name and that of your companion?”

                “I have no name,” said the grey-eyed man.  “I am called simply the Huntsman by other humans and Brother by the wolves.  My companion has no need for a name either; he is my Brother as I am his.”

                Graham continued to search for the wolf, but all he found were half-glimpses, distant howls, and flashes of white fur.  He finally spotted the creature near the edge of town and followed it into the woods.  Graham was fast, but the wolf was faster.  The creature made it to the top of a ledge near the town border while Graham was still panting at the bottom.  “Are you going to let me catch up?” he called out.  The creature, of course, didn’t answer, but the sheriff swore that it smirked down at him before it ran off, disappearing before it reached the town line.

                As he turned to make his way back to town, he nearly ran into Mr. Gold.  “What are you doing out here this early?” he asked the older man harshly.

                Mr. Gold, leaning heavily on his cane, clutched a shovel in his other hand.  “Gardening” he said.  “What brings you out here, Sheriff?”

                “I was following the wolf,” he admitted.

                “A wolf?” said Gold.  “As far as I know there are no wolves in Storybrooke.”

                “I think it’s the same wolf from my dream,” said Graham.

                “Dreams are strange things, dearie,” said Gold.  “More often than not there’s more truth in them than there initially appears to be.”

                “Do you believe that we might have lived other lives once?” Graham asked on a whim.

                “I believe that anything’s possible,” the older man said.  “Good day sheriff.  Good luck with your wolf.”

“May I then choose names to call you?” asked Peter respectfully.  “You have earned my respect, Brothers, and I wish to give them to you as a gift to show this.”

                The Huntsman stared at the strange boy, who was no older than fourteen, and nodded.  “We will accept your gifts, Peter of Narnia.  What would you call us?”

                Peter contemplated the two for a moment.  “Your brother I would call Reep, after one of the most noble and fearsome creatures I have ever known.  You I would call Remus.”

                Graham was sure he was going crazy.  Despite Lenore’s assurances that he was not the only one to dream of strange things, he simply could not find peace with himself.  He finally caught up with the wolf after Gold left and on impulse he whistled for it.  Strangely enough, the creature came and stood still in front of him.  Trembling, Graham reached out a hand and touched its head gently.  When he did, flashes of half-familiar images floated through his mind.  He saw himself, dressed in leather and fur, talking with a familiar golden-haired teen and then sparing the life of an equally familiar woman with hair as black as ebony.  He gasped in shock and when he came back to himself, the wolf was simply gone.

“Are you alright, Graham?”

                The brunette sheriff looked up sharply from where he leaned against his car in the school parking lot.  Standing in front of him, concern etched into his tanned face, was the blue-eyed teen from his vision, grown into a man now.  “Ben?” he said unsurely.

                Ben looked at him quizzically, overlong golden hair flopping haphazardly into his eyes.  He pushed it back.  “Yeah, who else would I be?” he said.  “Are you okay there, Graham?  You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

                “I’m not sure I haven’t,” he replied.

                “Oh?” said Ben, quirking an eyebrow.  “What happened, man?”

                “You’ll think I’m crazy; I think I’m crazy.”

                “Try me,” said Ben, his face blank, but his eyes sincere.

                “There was a wolf,” Graham explained, “and when I touched him, I got these…flashes of something.  Memories of a past life, maybe.  Whatever it was didn’t happen in Storybrooke, but I was there…and so were you.”

                “Me?” said Ben.

                “Aye,” said Graham.  “When did we meet, Ben?”

                The young man frowned thoughtfully.  “When I was a kid, I think,” he replied slowly.  “I’m pretty sure it was one of the times Astrid snuck me into town when I was young.”

                Graham’s face fell.  He didn’t remember that, but if Ben did…maybe there was more wrong with him than he thought.  “Oh, right.  Have we ever gone hunting together?”

                Ben laughed, crystal clear and bright.  “Me?  Hunting?  Sorry, Graham, but you know the sisters would never have let me within ten feet of any kind of gun and I’ve only been away from them for a few months now.”

                Graham’s face fell.  “Right,” he said.  “Don’t know what I was thinking.  Thanks for the help, Ben, but I’ve gotta get going now.”

                “Are you sure you’re okay, Graham?” Ben asked his older friend, his voice uncertain.

                “I’m fine, Ben, really.”

“Remus?” said the Huntsman.  “Is there some significance to this name?”

                “Remus and Romulus were twins in the days of old,” explained Peter.  “They were raised by wolves—like you—and Romulus went on to one day found a great city of men.”

                “And Remus?”

                “His tale ended tragically; he was killed by his own brother.  A fate I hope does not befall you.”

                The Huntsman—Remus—nodded to Peter.  “These names are acceptable, but they are just for you; no one else may use them.”

                “I will honor that, Remus, Reep,” he said, bowing graciously to them.

                Graham stood awkwardly in the doorway of Miss Blanchard’s fourth grade classroom as the kids filed out around him.  “Hello Graham,” said Mary-Margaret as he stepped further into the room.  “How can I help you?”

                “How long have we known each other, Mary-Margaret?” he asked, staring at her intently.

                “Oh, it’s been a long time; years, I guess.”

                “Yes, but when did we meet?” he asked urgently.  “Do you remember?”

                The teacher frowned.  “It was a long time ago…”

                “Yes but we should remember something,” insisted Graham.  “Anytime I try to think back, my memories are all fuzzy and blurred like they’re not real.”

                “It was a long time ago,” protested Mary-Margaret weakly.  “Memories grow hazy with time…”

                “Do you believe in other lives?” Graham asked abruptly.

                “What, like Heaven?”

                “No, like past lives.  Do you think we might have known each other in a past life?”

                “Graham,” said Mary-Margaret, hesitantly stepping forward, “I think you might need to take some time off.  You don’t look so good.”  She felt his forehead with the back of her hand.  “You’re burning up; you need to go home and get some rest.”

                “Just tell me.”

                The raven-haired teacher sighed.  “I suppose it’s possible,” she said.  “We might have known each other.”

                Graham gave a small sigh of relief.  “I think we did,” he said slowly.  “I was a hunter and you—you were a princess, I think.  I-I tried to kill you.”

                “Graham,” Mary-Margaret stepped closed and put her hand on his arm, “even if that was real, that was another life.  I promise not to hold it against you.”  She chuckled.  “You know, that almost sounds like one of the stories in Henry’s book.”

                “What book?”

                “Henry’s book of stories,” explained Mary-Margaret.  “He’s convinced that everyone in town is in it; that we’re all storybook characters trapped in this world because of a curse.”

“What is a boy like you doing alone this deep in the woods?” asked the newly christened Remus, picking up his kill and slinging it on his back.

                “I’m afraid I’m terribly lost,” admitted Peter.  “I’ve been wandering around for the past week looking for my brother and my sisters, but I’ve no idea where I am.  What is the name of these woods?”

                “You are in the Enchanted Forest, my young friend,” replied Remus.  “It is very easy to get lost in here if you are unfamiliar with the land.”

                “Oh dear,” sighed Peter.  “I’m afraid I’ve never heard of this Enchanted Forest before.  It’s not in Narnia is it?”

                “I’ve never heard of Narnia,” admitted Remus.  “This part of the forest runs through Alba and Gilden.”

                Peter’s shoulders sagged in defeat.  “Then I’m afraid I’m more lost than I thought.  My siblings and I were last together in Narnia before we stepped through a door in the air.  We tried to hold together…but I felt Lucy and Edmund’s fingers slipping from mine.”

                “You must be from another realm,” said Remus.  “I’ve heard tell of portals that reach between different realms, but there are precious few who can control them.”

                “When did these flashes start?” Henry asked Graham as they sat together on his bed in his room, the storybook siting open in Henry’s lap.

                “After I kissed Emma,” admitted the sheriff.

                “You kissed my mom?” said Henry, incredulously.  Graham gave him a look.  “What did you see?” the boy asked, wisely dropping the subject.

                “There was a wolf,” said Graham, “and I had a knife…I was going to kill a woman with raven hair…Mary-Margaret, I think.”

                “I know who you are,” said Henry, flipping through the pages of his book.

                “How?”

                “Well, Mary-Margaret is Snow White,” explained Henry, “so if you tried to kill her that makes you…” he stopped flipping at a picture of a man whose face was covered with a raised knife, “the Huntsman.”

“I knew a man once who claimed to be a Realm Jumper,” said Peter, having to jog to keep up with Remus’ longer stride.  “Perhaps there was more to his claim than I thought.”

                “Will he come looking for you?” asked Remus.

                “Not likely,” said Peter.  “That was a whole other lifetime ago.  There’s a very good chance he’s been dead for centuries.”  Remus gave the blonde teen a strange look.  “I’m a lot older than I look, Remus,” said the younger man cryptically.

                Graham felt good, liberated even.  He was finally free of Regina and all of the feelings of emptiness that their relationship gave him.  He couldn’t help but smile as he dabbed at the cut by Emma’s eye.  This was a chance for a new beginning for him.  Emma smiled at him and he couldn’t help himself; he bent close and kissed her lips passionately.

                Images flashed before his eyes, more vivid and intense than ever before.  The wolf, Mary- Snow White, Be- Peter, and Regina- the Evil Queen.  “I remember,” he said, eyes wide and voice awed.

                “Remember what?” asked Emma.

                “Everything.”  Emma gave him a strange sort of look and he smiled at her.  “It doesn’t matter,” he assured her and he leaned in to kiss her again.

                Suddenly he felt a strange, squeezing pain in his chest, causing him to lose his breath.  He fell to the floor, gasping and his last thought before blackness greeted him like an old friend was that he wished he could wipe the terrified, heartbroken look off of Emma’s face.

                Nearly a year Peter spent in the woods with Remus and Reep, learning to hunt and growing up all over again, until the Evil Queen came and stole his newest brother from him.  Peter vowed then that there was nothing he wouldn’t do to save his brother from Regina’s service and give him back the freedom he so cherished.  So it was that the golden young man found himself drawn into Snow White and Prince Charming’s rebellion and when a certain dark curse swept over that land, he was carried along with everyone else to a quaint little town in Maine where magic was a thing of fairy stories and Regina still ruled supreme.

                “Lenore? What are you doing up so late?  You have school in the morning.”

                “Hmm?”  Lenore looked up from the book in her lap to blink dreamily at her Papa.  “What did you say?”

                Gold smiled indulgently at his daughter, leaning heavily against her doorframe.  “Got caught up in a good book again, did you?” he said fondly.

                “It’s the most intriguing story I’ve seen in a long while,” she admitted.

                “Alright, just make sure you’re in bed soon, dearie,” he said.

                “Yes, Papa,” replied Lenore.  Gold nodded to her once and turned on his heel, shutting the door behind him.

                Once the door was shut, Lenore stared down at the book in her lap again.  She waved her hand over the open pages and they shimmered a lovely gold color and transformed into a small, wooden box.  Lenore opened the box and stared at the glowing object inside.  “I’m sorry,” she whispered into the box, “but it had to be done.  I hope that one day you’ll forgive me.  This really is for the best you see; He told me so.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Six: Conceal, Don’t Feel

                “Are you coming to Granny’s with us today?” asked Paige as she and Henry met up with their older friend after school let out for the day.  “We’re supposed to meet up with Emma and come up with ideas for something to help her win the sheriff elections tomorrow.”

                Lenore shook her head regretfully.  “I’ve got a project I’ve got to work on today,” she said.  “In fact, it might take me a couple days to finish, so you guys go ahead without me.  I’ll catch up with you at school tomorrow, alright?”

                “If you’re sure,” said Henry, glancing over at Paige.

                The blonde girl shrugged.  “I’m sure it’s important, Henry,” she said.  “Let Len alone.  I’ve heard Mr. Peace is pretty tough.”

                “Okay,” said Henry.  “You sure you don’t mind?” he asked Lenore again.

                “Go ahead,” she said, smiling softly at him.  “I’d rather know you two were helping Emma than sulking because I couldn’t be there.”

                “We’ll talk at lunch tomorrow,” promised Henry.  “We’ll tell you everything.”

                “Of course,” said Lenore.  “Have fun and tell Emma I said hi.  I’ll see you guys later.”

Lucy had been wandering this strange forest alone for what felt like weeks (she wasn’t sure, without any way to accurately keep track of time).  After she had pulled the thread that would change their fate, she had found herself in a strange, unfamiliar land, separated from her siblings.  The gift that Aslan had given her, her magic, practically sung with happiness in this new world.  She knew, somehow, that this wasn’t her original world (there was no magic there, for one), nor was it her beloved Narnia that she had once again left behind.  She recalled that Jefferson, when he had first arrived in Narnia, had claimed to have a magic hat the allowed him to travel between realms.  She had always believed in taking things on faith, so she’d had no trouble believing him.  She just never imagined that she would get to travel those worlds herself.

Lenore hummed softly to herself as she walked through the woods that surrounded Storybrooke on three sides.  Henry and Paige thought that she was headed home to work on a school project; Papa and Mr. Dove (their bodyguard) thought she was spending the afternoon with her friends.  Truthfully she was doing neither; she was headed to an old cabin in the woods that was owned by her Papa, but hadn’t been used in years.

She pushed open the door to the cabin gently and set her yellow, daisy patterned backpack down beside it, glancing over at the small bed in the corner of the room to make sure that it was still occupied.  She then shed her sweater and hung it on the hook beside the door before unzipping her bag and pulling out a pack of small bottled waters and a box of granola bars.  She padded over to the bed, her yellow converse making little noise on the wooden floor.  She knelt down beside the bed and gently felt the forehead of the man who was lying there, dead to the world.

“Sheriff Graham,” she said softly, “can you hear me?”

                The man groaned and rolled over to face her.  He squinted his dulled grey eyes and said, “Lenore?” in a gravelly, cracking voice.

                “Yes, it’s me,” she said gently, removing a water bottle from the packaging and holding it to his lips.

                He drank deeply, staring at her the whole time.  “I thought I died,” he said finally, once he had drained the bottle.

                “You’re very much alive, Sheriff Graham,” Lenore said, pulling a granola bar out of the box and handing it to him.  “It was a near miss, though.”

                “How?” he asked, the granola bar remaining unopened in his hands.  “I remember—I remember kissing Emma and then I remembered everything.”  He sat bolt upright.  “Regina!” he shouted.  “She has my heart!  I have to get it back.  I hav—”

                “Calm down, Sheriff Graham,” said Lenore, laying a small hand on his chest and pushing him back down with surprising strength.  “Regina doesn’t have your heart.”

                “Yes she does,” he insisted, eyes wild with fear.  “Emma tried to help me find it, but we couldn’t—I remember Regina threatened to kill me if I ever tried to leave her, before.”

                “Sheriff—”

                “You don’t understand,” he said frantically, “I left her.  She’s going to kill me.”  He frowned.  “I should be dead right now; why aren’t I?”

                “Regina can’t kill you, Sheriff Graham, because she doesn’t have your heart,” Lenore said calmly.  “I took it from her.”

Eventually the forest began to thin out and Lucy could make out majestic mountains in the near distance; maybe another day’s walk from her current location.  Nestled so snugly in the base of the mountains that it was almost invisible to the naked eye was a large, foreboding castle, complete with turrets and imposing gargoyle guardians.  Well, Aslan hadn’t named her His Lioness for nothing.  She had certainly earned her Valiant title many times, over the years, so she set off toward the dark castle without a second thought.

                Graham stared at Lenore, mouth agape.  “You have my heart?” he said, bewildered.

                Lenore looked down and fiddled with the fabric of her white uniform blouse.  “I would give it back to you if I could,” she said, “but I don’t know how to put it back and there’s not enough magic in this world anyway.”

                “You remember,” said Graham, staring at the girl in a new light.

                “Yes,” said Lenore calmly.  “I started having these strange dreams around the same time that Emma came to town, but they’ve just gotten so vivid in the past couple of days.”  She looked at him strangely.  “Since the day you came to me about your dreams, in fact,” she said.

                “You mentioned a lion when we spoke,” said Graham.  “Did you know then?”

                She shook her head.  “Not completely,” she said.  “It wasn’t until I broke into the Queen’s vault and found your heart that everything came back to me.”

                “You remember who you are,” said Graham.

                “So do you,” countered Lenore, raising a delicate brow at him.

                “I was—I am the Huntsman,” he said.  “The Queen took my heart because I refused to kill Snow White for her and brought her the heart of a stag instead.”

                “My name is Lucy Pevensie,” said Lenore.  “I wasn’t originally from the Enchanted Forest, but my siblings and I landed there after our second adventure in Narnia.  We weren’t from there either, although we did rule that land for fifteen wonderful years.  I’m not sure, but I believe that my sister and brothers and I are originally from this land without magic.”

                Rumpelstiltskin was startled by a loud knock on his castle doors, interrupting his nightly spinning.  Furious at the disruption and longing to turn someone into a snail, he threw open the doors, ready to strike.  Instead, he paused, for standing there, reaching barely to his waist, was a small, smiling girl.

                “Hello, sir,” she said, her voice light and high, “I’ve been wandering around the woods for weeks and I saw your castle, so I thought that perhaps you could help me, or at least tell me where I am.”  Rumpelstiltskin stared at her, mouth agape.  This slip of a girl had come to the Dark One for help?  Didn’t she know who he was?  “Sir, are you alright?”

                “I’m fine,” he snapped, before he let out a high-pitched giggling laugh.  “Perhaps I ought to ask you that question.  Do you know who I am, dearie?”

                “No,” replied the girl honestly.  “My name is Lucy Pevenise, sir, and I’m not exactly from this world.”

                 “What happens next?” asked Graham.  “Are we the only ones who remember our real lives?”

                “I’m positive that Regina remembers,” said Lenore, “and I’m nearly certain that my Papa does as well.  Beyond them, I can’t really say.  As for what happens next…” she suddenly looked sheepish, more like the young girl she was than the queen she had once (and always) been, “…I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.”

                Graham raised an eyebrow.  “What am I to do, then?  If you stole my heart from Regina, she’s probably going to come looking for me sooner or later.”

                “Well, you see she would…if she and everyone else didn’t think you were already dead,” said Lenore.

                “What did you do, Lenore?” asked Graham.

                “I sorta switched your heart out with another one in her vault.  I doubt she’ll figure it out unless the curse breaks, in which case it’ll be too late anyway.”

                Graham looked horrified.  “Someone else died in my place?” he said, voice tight and strained.

                “I’m sorry,” said Lenore, bowing her head and refusing to meet his eyes.  “It was the only way.”

                “Do you even know who she killed in my place?”

                “I’m sorry, Graham,” she said again.  “There were so many hearts down there; I let Aslan guide me to the ones I needed.  I’m not really a witch; I just have a small bit of magic that He gave me.  I can only believe that He had me switch your heart with the one that He picked for a good reason.”

Rumpelstiltskin blinked his reptilian eyes rapidly.  “Not from this world are ya, dearie?  Are you a realm jumper, then?” he asked, trilling the ‘r’ in realm.

                “Not quite, sir,” she said, shifting restlessly on her feet.  “I would be more than happy to tell you my story, if I could just come inside.  You see, I’ve been walking a very long time and I would very much like to rest my feet, if only for a little while.”  A story in exchange for a place to rest her feet—well, it wasn’t a deal in the traditional sense, but…she couldn’t be much more than ten and there was just something about her that reminded him painfully of Bae—

                “Come in, dearie,” he said, opening the door all the way and gesturing her inside.  The girl smiled brightly at him as she crossed the threshold.  “I must be losing my touch,” he muttered to himself as he closed the door.  She hadn’t looked frightened of him at all.

                “How is Emma?” asked Graham, curiously.

                “She’s grieving, even though she tries to hide it,” said Lenore.  “Papa actually convinced her to run for sheriff against Mr. Glass, though.”

                “Wait, what?  Shouldn’t Emma have automatically gotten the job if they think I’m dead?  She is-was my deputy.”

                “Well yes, but Regina tried to appoint her own puppet to replace you,” explained Lenore.  “Papa, fortunately, found a loophole—that’s his specialty, after all—that says that the mayor can appoint a candidate for sheriff, not just throw someone into the positon.  So Papa, whatever his reasons may be, is helping Emma to run.  Personally, I think he wants the curse broken and having Emma as sheriff will guarantee that she stays here to break it, but that’s just my opinion.  Papa hasn’t actually said anything to me.  He doesn’t know that I remember.”

                Graham nodded his head in understanding.  “So how long do I have to stay here?” he asked.

                Lenore shrugged and smiled sheepishly at him.  “Like I said, I hadn’t really thought that part through,” she admitted.  “It’s relatively safe out here and I can’t remember the last time Papa actually used this cabin…though that could just be the curse.”

                “You think I should stay hidden until the curse breaks,” said Graham, understanding dawning on his face.

                “It’s probably for the best,” admitted Lenore.  “It might be a while, but I promise to visit often so that you aren’t alone out here.”

                “It’s not like never been alone before,” said Graham.

                “I know, but you don’t have to be anymore, Graham,” said Lenore.  “You’ve got me now.”

                Rumpelstiltskin watched in fascinated silence as the girl—Lucy, she’d called herself—chattered on and on while warming herself in front of his fire.  She was a peculiar child, he thought.  She hadn’t so much as blinked at his strange, inhuman appearance or commented on his eccentricities.  Instead, she had made herself at home in his castle as if she had always been there.  Her small red sweater was thrown haphazardly over the back of his chaise lounge, her black-buckle shoes were placed neatly next to the hearth to dry, and she herself had decided to sprawl out like a cat on the plush, beige rug he kept in front of the fireplace.

                “Sir?”

                “What?” he snapped, angry at himself for having been caught lost in his thoughts.

                “What may I call you?” she asked.  “I could keep calling you sir, but that just seems too impersonal.  Names have power, you know.  It’s always important to know the proper names of things; it’s what keeps us alive and vibrant.  Without proper names, we would all wither and fade; a sad fate, indeed, to befall any being, great or small.”

                Lenore arrived home just after dark.  She quietly entered the salmon colored house and hung her jacket up by the door before slipping into the living room.  “A little late tonight, aren’t we, Lenore?” said her father from his favorite mustard yellow armchair.

                “Sorry Papa,” she said, sitting down on the couch and setting her bag on the floor.  “We lost track of time.”

                “I ran into Henry and Paige this evening,” he said, dark eyes boring into her.  “They said you came home early to work in a school project.”

                “Hm?  Oh, well, I just needed some time to myself, Papa.”

                Gold raised an eyebrow at his daughter.  “And you couldn’t find that here while I was out?”

                “I just went for a walk in the woods, Papa,” she said.  “I was never in any danger.”  Lenore had learned from the master that half-truths were often more effective than lies.

                He stared at her, his unnerving gaze never wavering.  “Very well,” he finally said.  “Please don’t do that again.  Let me know if you’re going to be out past dark; I do worry, dear girl.”

                Lenore smiled softly at him.  “I know, Papa,” she said.  “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

                “I wasn’t scared, Lenore, just worried,” he insisted.

                Lenore waved a hand dismissively.  “Same difference, Papa; I know you’re actually a big softie when it comes to me.” 

“Always,” he replied, smiling gently at her.  “Now shouldn’t you be headed off to bed, or is there something else you need?”

She looked at him sheepishly and asked, “I don’t suppose there’s any supper left, is there?”

Gold chuckled and stood, limping into the kitchen to fill a plate for her.  “Here you are, dear,” he said, handing her the ceramic plate filled with lasagna and green beans.  “Eat up and then go to bed.”

“Yes, Papa, thank you.”

Rumpelstiltskin stared at the girl, head cocked slightly to the side in contemplative confusion.  He had never met anyone before who believed in the power of names in the same way that he did.  Of course, he knew that to know the true name of something was to possess power over it, but for a naïve young girl, she seemed to have a startling good grasp on the concept.  He could think of very few logical explanations as to why this might be.  “Tell me, dearie,” he said, joining her on the floor, “do you possess magic, perchance?”

                “Only what has been given to me freely, sir,” she replied.  “And don’t think I don’t know that you’re trying to dodge my question.”

                “I wouldn’t dream of it, dearie,” he said, hand over his heart in mock hurt.  “What say we make a deal?”

                The girl looked up at him from her sprawled position, wide blue-grey eyes solemn.  “Someone I love dearly taught me that all magic comes with a price, especially the magic used to make deals.  I think I’ll find your name on my own, Sir, thank you.”

                It was late afternoon the next day before Lenore was able to sneak off into the woods to visit Graham.  She entered the small cabin and removed her jacket and backpack as she had before.  She again opened her bag and this time pulled out a paper carry-out bag from Granny’s and a silver, metal thermos decorated with Disney princess stickers.  “I brought you Granny’s lasagna and some coffee,” she said, placing them on the wooden table by the fireplace.

                “Thanks,” said Graham, gingerly getting to his feet and walking across the room.

                “How are you feeling today?” asked Lenore, pulling out a seat for the injured man before sitting down herself.

                “Much better,” he said, pulling the food out and digging in.  “I’m not sure what you did, but I feel less like a dying man today and more like an injured one.”

                “I had to make it look like you were dead so that Regina wouldn’t come after you anymore,” said Lenore.  “I’m not really familiar on how one goes about controlling a person with their heart, so I was kind of making it up as I went along.  I didn’t mean to hurt you, Sheriff Graham.”

                “As I hear it, I’m not going to be sheriff anymore; call me Graham,” he insisted.  “How did the elections go, by the way?”

                “Emma won,” said Lenore brightly.  “Papa set up this elaborate ruse so that she’d look the hero and then when she confessed that she knew he set the whole thing up, she won the support of the town and, thus, the election.  They’re having a celebration over at Granny’s for her right now.”

                “Good for her.  So why are you here with me instead of back there with all your friends?” he asked curiously.

                Sadness filled her eyes as she spoke.  “Do you have any idea how hard it is to face the people you love when they have no idea who you really are to them?” she asked.

                “I can’t say that I do,” he said.  “It was just me and my Brother back in the Enchanted Forest.”

                “Your wolf companion,” said Lenore.

                “Yes,” he said.  “He was my Brother in every way that matters.”

                “I have brothers too,” said Lenore softly, “and a sister.  All three are here, in this land, but none of them remember me.  They just know me as Lenore Gold, the daughter of the man who owns the town, not as Lucy Pevensie, their little sister.  It hurts to see them look at me and not truly know me, as they once did.”

                “Have you been avoiding your friends since you remembered?”

                Lenore nodded.  “I think Papa’s getting suspicious.  I’ve always hung around Paige and Henry for as long as I can remember, but now…there’s something painfully familiar about Paige, but I don’t know what it is.”

                “Do you know here from before?” asked Graham.

                “No, I don’t think so,” said Lenore.  “I was in the Enchanted Forest for only four years before the curse hit and in that time I rarely saw anyone outside of my Papa.  Before that I was in Narnia and no one there was affected by the curse; believe me, I’ve looked.  No one here is actually from this world either, except for my siblings, Henry, and I.  Anyone I knew from the time we ruled in Narnia is long dead, besides, and those were the ones I knew best; our second adventure to Narnia was much more short-lived in comparison.”

                “I knew a boy, briefly, in the Enchanted Forest, who spoke of your Narnia,” said Graham slowly.  “Perhaps he was one of your brothers.”

                “Perhaps,” said Lucy. “What was he like?”

                “He was noble and kind,” said Graham, “with golden hair and eyes of blue, not terribly unlike yours.”

                “That sounds like Peter, my eldest brother,” said Lenore.

                “Aye, that name sounds familiar,” admitted Graham.  “Will you tell me more of your Narnia?”

                Lenore smiled brightly.  “Of course!” she said.  “The first time we found Narnia, we were playing hide-and-seek in the Professor’s mansion out in the English countryside. I had wandered up through the house to a spare room and inside it there was this beautifully carved, wooden wardrobe…”

Chapter Text

Chapter Seven: No One Is Alone

“I think it’s a girl.”

                Queen Susan stroked her protruding belly gently.  “What makes you say that, Jeff?” she asked her husband of two years.

                He shrugged his broad shoulders and buried his face in her dark curls.  “Just something Lucy said to me.”

                Susan arched a delicate eyebrow.  “Oh?” she said.  “What has my dear sister been telling you now, Jefferson?”

                “Well, she was helping me pick out names, just like you suggested, but when I started to tell her my choices for boys’ names, she laughed.  I asked her what was so funny—Thakaraiah is a perfectly respectable name, thank you!—and she told me there was no reason to pick out a boy’s name because we’re having a girl.”

“So who are these twins who framed you for shoplifting yesterday?” Paige asked Henry as they and Lenore walked home after school.

                “Ava and Nicholas Zimmer; they’re fifth graders,” said Henry.

                “Who were they before the curse?” asked Lenore curiously.

                “I haven’t quite figured that out yet,” the boy admitted.  “Wanna help me?”

                “Granny’s?” asked Paige.

                “That’s what I was thinking,” said Henry.  “Are you coming Lenore?”

                “Sorry,” said the older girl, a guilty sort of look crossing her face, “but I promised Papa I’d go straight home after school today.”

                “You’re never around anymore,” complained Paige.

                “I’ve had a busy week,” said Lenore, defending herself.  “I promise things will go back to normal soon.”

“Did she say why she was so certain?” asked Susan.

                “She just said that she had a feeling.”

                “Hmm.”  Susan began to run her fingers though Jefferson’s chestnut waves, which he had recently let grow down to his chin.  “You could do with a haircut, Jeff,” she commented absently.

                “You’re dodging the subject, Su.”

                Susan sighed, her fingers pausing in their stroking motion.  “Jeff,” she said, “I’ve learned over the years to trust Lucy’s ‘feelings,’ as they generally turn out to be correct.”

                “So you’re saying that we’re having a girl?”

                “Most likely,” said Susan.  “Are you terribly disappointed?”

                The grin that spread across the retired realm jumper’s face was stunning.  “Disappointed?” he said.  “How could I be disappointed?  I’m going to be a Papa!”  He hugged his wife around the shoulders and she let out a peal of laughter like a babbling brook.  “Our daughter is never going to want for anything, I promise.”

                Susan’s smile reached all the way to her ice blue eyes and lit up her face like the noonday sun.  “Of that I have no doubt,” she said merrily.

                Paige and Henry parted ways with Lenore outside of Granny’s; they went inside and Lenore headed on toward her house at the edge of town.  The two ten-year-olds entered the diner and took up their favorite booth inside.  They smiled at Ruby as the waitress handed them their usual (cocoa with cinnamon for Henry and Darjeeling tea for Paige) and Henry pulled out the book for them to look through.

                Henry let Paige, who was sitting next to him, turn the pages in the book while he looked on.  “What about them?” she asked curiously, pointing to a picture of a blonde little girl in a white dress pulling a face at a fuming, brunette boy in leggings.

                Henry looked at the picture.  “No,” he said, “they’re not brother and sister.  That’s Princess Odette, the Swan Princess, and Prince Derek.  I’m pretty sure they’re teachers at our school.”

                “Oh,” said Paige, flipping on through the pages.  “What about them?”  She stopped at a portrait of a pair who was obviously twins; the boy and girl, dressed in Viking style clothes, both had long blonde hair and were depicted petting a strange, two-headed dragon.

                “No, they’re too old,” said Henry.  “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen them around the High School Wing at the Academy.”

                “Okay then,” said Paige.  She continued to turn the pages carefully.

                Henry scrutinized each page as the blonde girl turned them.  “Wait, go back,” he suddenly said, hand brushing against Paige’s as he hastily flipped back to a picture of a brunette boy and a blonde girl in peasant garb walking through a dense forest, holding hands.  “That’s them,” he said.

                “Who are they?” asked Paige curiously.

                “Hansel and Gretel.”          

“What is she to be called?” asked Lucy, tired and still slightly sweaty from helping to deliver her niece, but otherwise her usual cheerful, sunny self. 

Jefferson, Peter, and Edmund had joined the girls in Susan and Jefferson’s rooms to welcome the newest addition to the royal family.  Susan smiled, exhausted, but happy, from her reclined position on her large four-poster bed.  Dear Lucy sat beside her, all smiles and laughter, as they watched their kingly brothers fuss and coo with the proud Papa over the small ivory wrapped bundle in Jefferson’s arms.  “Jeff?” said Susan.  “Would you like to do the honors?”

Jefferson was enamored by his tiny newborn daughter.  Already she had a tuft of wispy blonde hair atop her small head and though her eyes were blue like all newborns, he secretly hoped they’d lighten into the same icy blue as his wife’s.  This tiny miracle had already stolen his heart with naught but a glance and she was barely two hours old.  “Her name is Grace Lucy,” he said.  “She is named after the two most important women in her life: her gentle, gracious mother and her valiant, faithful aunt.”

                Henry found Emma at the sheriff’s station after he and Paige parted ways outside the diner.  “I figured out who Ava and Nicholas Zimmer are,” he said.

                “Oh?” said Emma.  “Who are they?’’

                “They’re Hansel and Gretel,” said Henry excitedly.

                “Like with the gingerbread house and the witch who eats kids?” asked Emma, pausing her movement to stare at him strangely.

                “Exactly,” said Henry, excitement evident in his voice.  “Their dad didn’t abandon them; they were separated when the Queen tricked them into getting something from the Blind Witch for her.”

                “Henry…” sighed Emma, “even if your faitytale theory is true, who’s to say he’s even in town anymore.” 

“No one leaves Storybrooke,” insisted Henry.  “He’s still here; you just have to find him.”  Emma sighed and stepped into the main room.  Henry followed behind her.  “So…” he said, “now that I’ve told you about their dad, do you think you could tell me about mine?”

“Henry…” sighed Emma.

“Please?” asked Henry, sitting down on top of the desk and looking up at her hopefully.

Emma sighed in resignation.  “Fine,” she said.  “It was just after I aged out of the foster system.  I was working at this little twenty-four hour diner…”

“Let us welcome our new niece, Princess Grace Lucy to the family,” said Peter, smiling brightly.  “May your life be long and full, darling girl.”

“May you grow in grace and wisdom to love and serve our people,” said Edmund, his dark eyes bright with emotion.

“May Aslan bless you and watch over you all the days of your life,” said Lucy.

“Welcome to the world, Princess,” said Jefferson, eyes fixed resolutely on the child in his arms.  “May you never want for anything.”

“May you find much joy and laughter in your life, dear child mine,” said Susan, “and may you be loved all the days of your life.”

“So has Emma found their dad yet?” Paige asked curiously.

Henry shook his head.  “No,” he said, swinging his feet off the edge of the castle.  “She left the station pretty fast, though.  I think she’s got an idea of where to look.”  He fell back into contemplative silence.

“Is everything alright, Henry?” asked the blonde girl, concern evident on her face.

“Yeah, I’m great,” said Henry.  “It’s just…Emma told me about my dad earlier.”

“Really?  That’s pretty exciting,” said Paige.  “Aren’t you happy?  I thought you wanted to know about him.”

“I did—I do,” said Henry.  “It’s just…she told me that he’s dead.  I’ll never get to actually meet him now.”

“I’m sorry,” said Paige, placing a gentle hand on his arm.  “I know how much you’ve always wanted a dad.”  She paused.  “Do you want to tell me about him?” she asked.

“He was a firefighter,” said Henry, smiling slightly.  “Emma met him when she was working at a diner right after she aged out of the foster system.  She said he always came in and ordered pie and then complained that they didn’t have pumpkin.  They weren’t married, but they hung out a few times outside of the diner and fell in love.  Emma said that their lives just took different paths and she was arrested.  She tried to contact him when she found out that she was pregnant with, but she learned that he had died saving a family from a burning apartment building.”

“So he was a hero, then,” said Paige softly.

“Yeah,” said Henry, smiling brightly, “he was.”

Peter, as High King of Narnia, had performed the marriage of Susan and Jefferson.  He expected to also be the one to announce to their people the birth of the new princess of the realm.  However, when Aslan Himself arrived, Peter was only too honored to give the Great Lion the pleasure of doing so Himself.

On the appointed day, Aslan stood with the monarchs and Jefferson, Prince Consort of Queen Susan, and addressed the gathered masses.  “Gentle beasts and beings all,” He said, “it gives me great pleasure to present to you, on this day in the tenth year of the Golden Age of Narnia, your new princess.  To all the corners of the land, I give you Princess Grace Lucy the Blithe.  May your reign be light and merry, young princess, and may you follow in the footsteps of your family and grow in faith, kindness, justice, and strength.”

 “I brought you pumpkin pie,” said Henry, stepping up to the open window of the police car and smiling at Emma inside.  At her confused look, his face fell slightly.  “It was pumpkin, wasn’t it?”

“Of course,” said Emma, expression softening.  “Thanks, kid.”

“Sure,” he said, smiling up at her as she climbed out of the car to join him outside.  “So did Ava and Nicholas’ dad come for them?”

“Yeah, he did,” said Emma, smiling.  “All he needed was a little push.  Give me that, kid,” she added, taking the box from him.

Henry smiled up at her as she opened it up.  Suddenly the roar of a motorcycle filled the air.  Henry looked down the dimly lit street to see a lone motorcycle, lit by a single headlight, heading toward them.  It stopped just across the street and the rider stepped off, removing his helmet.  “Is this Storybrooke?” he asked, his eerie blue eyes fixed on Emma.

“Yeah,” said the blonde sheriff.

“Could you point me in the direction of a hotel?”

“What?”

“I just need a place to rest my head,” he said, smiling a strange sort of smile at her.

“You’re staying?” asked Henry.

“That’s the idea,” replied the stranger, glancing down at the kid.

“Granny’s Bed and Breakfast is just a couple blocks down the road,” said Emma, gesturing down the street.  “You can get a room there.”

“Thanks,” said the man, turning back to his bike.

“Hey!” called Emma.  “I didn’t catch your name.”

He turned back briefly to smirk at her.  “I didn’t give it,” he said.  Without another word, he mounted his bike and replaced his helmet before taking off down the road.

“I thought you said strangers don’t come to Stroybrooke,” Emma said to Henry, cocking a questioning eyebrow at him.

“They don’t,” said Henry, meeting her green gaze with wide, surprised eyes and a small smile.  He knew it!   The curse was finally weakening.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eight: Not In My Castle on a Cloud

Henry came running up to Paige and Lenore at recess, tears in his dark brown eyes.  “It’s gone,” he told them frantically.  “It’s all gone!”

“What’s gone, Henry?” asked Paige, concerned.

“Everything,” said Henry, flopping down on the ground beside them.  “The storm last night knocked the castle down and the book is gone!”

“Wait, how is the book gone?” asked Lenore, brow furrowed in confusion.

“I buried it in a box under the castle and when I checked to see if it was still there, it wasn’t,” said Henry sadly.

“What!” exclaimed Paige.  “How’d that happen?”

“I don’t know,” said Henry.  “Either the storm washed it away or…”

“Or your mom has it,” said Lenore, voicing the fear that none of them wanted to be true.

Jefferson was shown to a large, opulent library on the ground floor of the castle while the four Narnian monarchs considered his request.  He was told that he was more than welcome to browse the bookshelves while he waited, but he was kindly asked to remain in the room for the time being.  If the Dark One hadn’t offered to pay him such a large sum for this particular job, he would have been sorely tempted to just up and leave.  This seemed to be a lot of trouble to go through for some measly plant juice.

                “Sir?”  Jefferson had barely settled into one of the plush burgundy couches that littered the room, hat in hand, when a small, dark haired servant boy arrived.

                “Yes?” he said irritably; these child monarchs could at least have given him time to snoop around if they were going to make him wait.

                “Queen Lucy requests your presence in her garden now, sir.”

                Jefferson stood up and placed his hat atop his head.  “Let’s not keep the queen waiting, then.”

                “Did anything interesting happen at school today kids?” Gypsy asked as she placed a platter of chicken fingers on the dinner table.

                “Do we have to have chicken fingers again?” asked Zane, pulling a face of disgust.

                “I’m sorry I’m not as good a cook as Dad, but he has to work nights this week, so you’ll just have to deal,” said Gypsy, sitting down in her seat.

                “Thanks, Mom,” said Paige quietly, taking her share of the chicken.

                “You’re very welcome, Paige,” she said.  “Now, which of you is going to tell me about your day first?”

                “Sky and Justin got into a fight today over Missy Whelan,” said Zane, smothering his chicken with ketchup.

                “Did they now?” said Gypsy, emerald eyes twinkling with mirth.  “Why would they do that?”

                “Sky asked Missy to be his girlfriend, but Justin wanted to ask her too.”  Zane pulled a face.  “I don’t know what the big deal is,” he said.  “Girls are icky.”

                Paige rolled her eyes.  “That’s cause you’re seven,” she said primly, pushing the chicken around her plate as if that would make it disappear faster.

                Gypsy sighed at her daughter.  “Paige, leave your brother alone and stop playing with your food,” she said.  “I know you don’t like chicken fingers, but if you eat those, I’ll call Auntie Lois and have her bring over dinner tomorrow night.  How’s that sound?”

                Paige considered it for a moment.  “Deal,” she said, squirting ranch onto her plate and cutting into her chicken with her fork.  “Our castle got knocked over in the storm last night,” she told her mother as she began to eat, “and Henry’s fairytale book went missing.”

                “Oh dear,” said Gypsy.  “Did it get carried away in the storm?”

                Paige shrugged.  “We’re not sure,” she said.  “Henry thought it might have, but it’s also possible that someone took it.”

                “Well, I hope that Henry gets his book back soon,” said Gypsy.  “I know how much you kids love those stories.”

                “Oh Mom, they’re so much more than just stories,” said Paige.  “They’re like whole other worlds for us to explore.”

It was a surprisingly short trip through the open corridors of the castle to the queen’s garden.  The garden was a small thing, crowded with a variety of flowering plants and bushes in a rainbow of colors.  Near the center stood a small, three tiered fountain made of a rough, grey stone.  It was there that the youngest queen sat, dipping her bare toes into the cool water.

                “Queen Lucy,” said Jefferson’s boy guide, “I’ve brought the stranger, as requested.”

                The queen turned to look at them, a smile playing on her soft, pink lips.  “So I see.  Thank you, Cedric.  That will be all.”  The boy bowed and left, leaving Jefferson alone with the young queen.

                “Your majesty,” said Jefferson, bowing and sweeping his hat off his head in one smooth gesture, “to what do I owe this most gracious invitation?”

                There was a strange, calculating look in her stormy blue eyes as she held his gaze.  “Come, sit with me, Sir Stranger,” she said after a moment’s time.  Jefferson obliged her, setting his hat down on the ground beside him.  The queen, with her yellow skirts kilted up to her knees and her legs bare, looked more a child than ever.  They sat in silence for a while before the queen finally spoke.  “I fear that we have not been properly introduced, Sir Stranger.  May I have your name?”

                “I am Jefferson, of the Enchanted Forest,” he obliged her.

                “Jefferson,” she said, tasting the name on her tongue.  “Odd, but I feel it suits you.  I am called Lucy the Valiant, Queen of Narnia.”

                A frantic knock on the door during breakfast startled Paige as she ate her bowl of Cocoa Puffs and watched her mother frantically attempt to pack lunches for both her and Zane (she almost told her that they both bought lunches on Wednesdays, but it was just too funny to watch).  “Zane, honey, could you get the door?” Gypsy called out to the seven-year-old boy who was just now plodding down the stairs, uniform shirt rumpled and feet bare.

                The door opened.  “Paige, it’s for you!” the boy yelled across the house.

                Paige glared sullenly at her soggy cereal and pushed it away.  “I’m coming,” she yelled back.  She walked into the front hall to see Henry, red-eyed, standing there staring at his feet.  “Henry,” she said, her voice softening, “are you okay?”

                “Mom had the castle torn down,” he said, his voice thick with tears.  “That was our spot, Paige.”

                “Mom, I’m gonna walk to school with Henry today,” she called out, picking up her bag from its spot beside the door.

                “Wait, Paige, your lunch!” Gypsy yelled frantically, running into the front hall holding a brown paper bag out to her daughter.

                “Thanks, Mom,” said Paige, pulling Henry out the door.  “I’ll see you later.”

                Once the door was shut behind them, Paige turned to Henry.  “Tell me everything,” she said as they walked down the street together.  “When did this happen?”

                “Yesterday,” said Henry.  “It was after you went home.”

                “Does Lenore know?” asked Paige.

                Henry shrugged.  “I went to her house this morning on the way over to yours and she wasn’t there.  Mr. Gold told me she left for school already.”

                Paige frowned.  “She left awfully early,” she said.  “Do you get the feeling that something’s going on with her that she’s not telling us?”

                “Well, she is thirteen; maybe she has a boyfriend she doesn’t want to tell us about?” suggest Henry, trying to be optimistic.

                “I’m pretty sure she’d at least tell me if she did,” said Paige. “She doesn’t really have many other friends.”

                “Everybody likes her though,” said Henry.  “Maybe she’s finally growing up; Mom always said that it was only a matter of time.”

                “No,” said Paige firmly.  “Not Lenore.  I’m sure there’s a better explanation.  I just wish she’d tell us.”  She shook her head forlornly.  “Enough about her, though.  What are we gonna do about the castle?”

                “There’s not much we can do,” said Henry.  “The crew Mom hired went in this morning to start demolition; I saw it on my way over.”

                “Any news on the book?” she asked hopefully.

                Henry shook his head.  “No,” he said, “but in this case that might be good news; it means my mom doesn’t have it after all.”

                “I suppose that’s something,” agreed Paige.  “I just wish we knew what happened to it…”

“A pleasure, my queen,” said Jefferson, taking her small hand in his and kissing her knuckles softly.

                Queen Lucy smiled sadly.  “I am not such a vain peacock as my sister, Jefferson of the Enchanted Forest, that you need flatter me to gain my favor.”

                Jefferson was taken aback.  Usually his suave, flirtatious personality was exactly what women of any age wanted from him.  “I-I beg your pardon, your majesty, but I’m sure I don’t know what—”

                “Please, Jefferson,” she said, something in her eyes sharpening,” do not take me for some naïve young girl, smitten by the first pretty face to show interest in her.”

                Jefferson smirked.  “So you think I’m pretty.”

                Queen Lucy rolled her eyes, a sparkle of amusement in their stormy depths.  “Don’t flatter yourself, Jefferson.  I’m a fifteen-year-old girl; I still think boys have cooties,” she teased.

                Jefferson grinned; not a smirk, but a genuine full-fledged grin.  “Cooties?” he said.  “I’m not sure I’ve heard of those before.”

                Queen Lucy’s smile faltered briefly.  “Oh, yes.  You wouldn’t have.  It means that boys are gross…or so say my brothers when I show the least interest in anyone.”

                “Ah, yes, that is a common plight amongst us boys—or so I’m told.”

                “I just heard; I’m so sorry Henry,” said Lenore, joining her friends in the hallway outside Miss Blanchard’s classroom.  “Is there anything I can do?”
                “Any way your dad can stop my mom?” asked Henry.

                Lenore gave him a lopsided smile.  “Sorry, Henry,” she said.  “You know that’s not my Papa’s way.”

                “Where have you been?” asked Paige abruptly.  “We’ve barely seen you since Sheriff Graham died.  We need you, Len.  We’re not the three musketeers without you.”

                “I’m sorry, Paige,” the older girl said, staring down at her sneakers guiltily.  “I just have a lot going on right now that I can’t really talk about.”

                “Are you ever gonna tell us what’s going on with you?” pressed Paige.

                “We worry about you,” added Henry.  “If you’re in trouble, you know you can tell us, right?”

                “I know,” said Lenore, her stormy eyes serious, “and I promise I’m not.  Good things come to those who wait, right?  Can you just trust me that when it’s time, you two will be the first to know?”

                “You promise?” asked Henry.

                “I promise,” said Lenore.

                Henry looked at the blonde girl with wide, pleading eyes.  “Alright, fine,” huffed Paige.  She narrowed her eyes at the older girl.  “You’d better not break your promise.”

                “I’m a Gold,” said Lenore solemnly, as if her name explained everything (which it kind of did).  “We never break our promises.”

Queen Lucy giggled.  “You are quite the character, Jefferson,” she said.  “Is it true that you’ve traveled to other worlds besides Narnia?”

                If Jefferson was surprised by the young queen’s sudden change of topic, he didn’t show it.  “Now, I thought you royal types didn’t approve of magic,” he said.

                Queen Lucy blushed a delicate shade of pink.  “Well, not strictly, no.  Our family has had some bad experiences with magic in the past, but I know that not all magic is bad, even if the others are beginning to forget.”  She suddenly looked sad.  “They forget that it was magic that brought us here in the first place.”

                Jefferson cocked a dark eyebrow in question.  “You haven’t always ruled this land?” he asked.

                Queen Lucy’s child-like laughter filled the garden.  “Goodness no.  We only became the rulers of Narnia seven years ago, by the grace of Aslan.  Before that, this land was ruled by a cruel woman known as the White Witch who fancied herself queen of Narnia…”

                “Where are you taking me?” asked Graham as he walked alongside Lenore through the thick woods surrounding the town.  “I thought you said that your dad’s cabin was the safest place?”

                “It was,” said Lenore, “and now it’s not.  My friends are staring to poke around in my business and so is Papa; it’s only a matter of time before one of them decides to follow me out there and you’d get found out faster than you can say ‘Rumpelstiltskin.’”

                “And that’s…bad?” asked Graham.  “I suppose I can understand not telling your dad—he can be a right scary man—but why not tell your friends?”

                “I want to protect them,” said Lenore.  “Not that I think the mayor would hurt her own son, but she would hurt Paige if she thought she knew something she wasn’t supposed to.  No, it’s best for now to keep them both in the dark.”

                “And me?” asked Graham, raising an eyebrow at the teen.  “Are you ever going to tell me where we’re going?”

                Lenore stopped and pointed.  “There,” she said, staring straight ahead.

                Graham looked up over the ridge at the large, opulent house just poking out above the tree line.  “What’s so special about that house?” he asked.  “Is it another one of you dad’s?”

                “Actually,” said Lenore, “it’s one of the few houses in Storybrooke that my Papa doesn’t own.  C’mon, Graham, we mustn’t be late.”  She took off over the ridge without as much as a backward glance at the former sheriff.

                “Why?” asked Graham, his long strides making it easy to catch up to the petite girl.  “What else is up there?”

                Lenore turned and flashed a smile at the man.  “Your new roommate,” she said, a cheeky grin on her face.  “Come on, Graham, further up and further in!”

Chapter Text

Chapter Nine: What Once Was Mine

                Jake was trading out his pre-algebra book for US History at his locker when he heard a small thump and a groan from the other side of the open metal door.  Smiling slightly, he shut his locker and locked eyes with the short, gangly brunette slouched beside him.  “Was it Bronwyn again?” he asked his friend sympathetically.

                “She looked right through me like I don’t even exist,” lamented the other boy, burying his freckled face dramatically in his hands.

                Jake glanced across the hallway at the alcove where the Academy’s top jocks always hung out between classes.  There were six of them and they always seemed to travel as a pack.  Liam’s cousin, Ashton McGowan (a big, burly boy with dark brown hair and a misogynistic attitude), and Brian Ingram (an even larger blonde boy who was secretly a genius and a sweetheart when you got him away from his friends) were the star players of the football team.  The twins Rodney and Trisha Montgomery (both were tall, skinny, and blonde with terrible manners and a penchant for bickering non-stop with each other) were the star players of the boys’ basketball team (Trisha insisted that the other girls were wimps, so she had bullied her way onto the boys’ team in middle school and no one had dared kick her off in the years since).  Then there was Bronwyn Hoffman (petite and blonde she might be, but she could level any of the football players with a forceful shove or an icy glare) and Maggie MacIntire (petite and hot-tempered with wild, untamable red curls), the stars of the all-girls lacrosse team. 

“Do you ever think that maybe it’s time to give up on her, Liam?” Jake asked his friend, nudging the other boy’s prosthetic leg (lost in a car accident less than a year earlier) gently.

                Liam gasped dramatically and clutched at his chest with his fist.  “Give up on perfection?” he said.  “Nothing shall ever compare to the beautiful vision that is my fair Bronwyn!”

                “I don’t think she even knows your name,” said Jake blandly.

                Liam groaned again.  “Way to kill my dreams, Jake, thanks,” he said without any real bite.

                “It’s my duty as your best friend,” he quipped back.

                “How about we find you a girlfriend and then I can tease you too,” suggested Liam, turning his green gaze on the pale boy.

                Jake sighed.  “Bronwyn’s not your girlfriend, Liam,” he said.

                “Not yet,” he said, “but someday…”

                “When pigs fly, maybe,” snorted Jake.

                “Hey, what about Dora Peterson?” said the brunette, ignoring his raven-haired friend.  “She’s not seeing anyone.”

                “Yeah right,” said Jake.  “That brother of hers is scary.”  Liam looked confused.  “Sam Peterson?  The kid with blue hair?  He’s in our grade?”

                “Sam’s Dora’s brother?” said Liam.

                “Yeah, where have you been all our lives?”

                “I thought they were just friends!  He looks nothing like her or Molly.”

                “He’s adopted, genious,” said Jake.  “The point is, I’m not going to date Dora Peterson.”

                “Okay, what about Trisha Montgomery?  Lorelai Locke?  Maggie MacIntire?”

                “No, no, and no, Liam.  I’m perfectly happy being single,” he said, dark eyes drifting briefly over to the gaggle of sports stars across the hall.  “Besides, I get enough relationship drama from both you and my sister; I don’t need any of my own right now.”

                “Is your sister still seeing that David guy?” asked Liam.  “I thought he was married.”

                “He is,” said Jake shortly, “hence the drama.  They apparently were going to date, then David decided to go back to his wife, and now they’re pretending they’re not seeing each other when they actually are seeing each other.”

                “Your life is complicated, dude,” said Liam sympathetically.

                “Tell me about it.”

Belle wasn’t sure what to expect when she agreed to come serve Rumpelstiltskin in exchange for saving her father’s lands from the ogres.  She didn’t regret her decision, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t apprehensive about living with the Dark One; she’d heard the stories.  The very last thing she’d expected, though, was the vibrant little girl who lived with him.

                ”You will serve me my meals, and you will clean the castle,” said the Dark One from his seat at the long dining table.

                “I-I understand,” said Belle, standing nervously in front of him.

                “You will dust my collection and launder my clothing.”

                “Yes.”

                “You will fetch me straw when I am spinning at the wheel.”

                “Got it.”

                “Oh,” he added, “and you will skin the children I hunt for their pelts.”  Belle, in shock, dropped the tea cup that she had been holding.  “That was a quip.  Not serious.”

                “Right,” she said hesitantly, bending down to pick up the cup.  “Oh…my.  I’m so sorry, but, uh…it’s chipped.”  She showed him the cup.  “You- you can hardly see it.”

                “Oh, it’s just a cup,” Rumpelstiltskin said, waving her off.

                Child-like laughter filled the room.  “I should certainly hope you don’t go around skinning children, Papa,” said a small girl, all rosy cheeks and chocolate curls, much like Belle’s own.  “I’d hate to think you just keep me around for my pelt.”

                “I’d never do that to you, Lucy dear; you’re much too sweet for any spell or potion of mine.”

                “I’m so glad,” she said dryly, her rose-petal lips twitching into a smile.  She then turned her stormy eyes on Belle.  “Who’s our guest, Papa?” she asked.  “Are you going to introduce us?”

                “Lucy, Belle; Belle, Lucy.  Belle’s our new housekeeper, Lucy dear.  And Belle—” he fixed his cold gaze on her, “—Lucy is my daughter; if you do anything to hurt or upset her, I will make you regret it.”

                “Jake, I’m going out with the girls tonight,” said Mary-Margaret, grabbing her sweater from the stand by the door.  “I’ll leave you some money if you’d like to order pizza from Tony’s.”

                “Can I have Liam over for dinner?” Jake asked.

                Mary-Margaret frowned.  “I thought this was his week with his mom,” she said.

                “Jane cancelled on him again,” replied Jake, “and Liam’s having problems with his dad right now.”

                “I guess that’s fine,” said Mary-Margaret.  “Don’t stay up too late, though.  You still have school tomorrow.”

                “I know,” said Jake, rolling his eyes at his sister.  “How’s it going with that guy you were seeing, by the way?  David, was it?”

                His sister started and stared at him with a deer-in-the-headlights look.  “Um…what?” she said.  “How do you know about that, Jake?”

                Jake rolled his eyes.  “Please, Mags, I’m fifteen, not stupid,” he said.  “You’ve been smitten since the guy woke up and squeezed your hand.”

                “How do you…”

                “You and Emma talk really loud,” he said, a look of faux innocence on his pale face.

                “You…you’re such a little sneak,” said Mary-Margaret, blushing bright red.

                “Your little sneak,” said Jake, giving his sister a little half-smile that he knew would melt her heart.

                It worked.  “Yeah, my little sneak,” she agreed.  “Just what else have you heard?”

                He raised an eyebrow at her.  “We’ve got really thin walls,” he said, smirking.  He loved pushing his sister’s buttons more than almost anything else.

                Mary-Margaret’s blush deepened to a bright scarlet.  “Jake,” she said, “I’m so sorry…”

                “Don’t be,” he said, waving her off with his hand.  “It’s not your fault.  Now, about this David guy…”

                Mary-Margaret sighed heavily.  “It’s…complicated, Jake,” she said.  “We were going to give this… whatever we have a chance, but then he decided he owed it to his wife to try to make things work between them, so now things are just…complicated.”

                “But you’re still seeing him?”

                “Sort of…kind of?” replied Mary-Margaret, knitting her brow in confusion.  “That’s part of the complicated.”

                “Well, whenever you feel like uncomplicating things, I’m here to listen,” said Jake sincerely.

                “Thanks, Jake,” she said, smiling softly at her brother.  “I appreciate the offer.”

                “Hey,” he said, smiling his little half smile, “brothers are good for more than just eavesdropping and being annoying sometimes.”

                “Yeah, kiddo, sometimes you are.”

                That first night, as she lay in her cell, unable to sleep, Belle couldn’t help but think of the small, sunny girl whom Rumpelstiltskin seemed to care for deeply.  His daughter, he’d called her.  Belle had never heard that the Dark One had a child, but she supposed that anything was possible.  The girl—Lucy, he’d called her—was nothing like what she’d expect a child raised by Rumpelstiltskin to be.  She was bright and cheerful with a ready smile and a sharp wit.  She was the sunshine in this gloomy castle; the light in an otherwise dark home.

                As she contemplated the mystery of her new master’s daughter, she was startled by a small noise like rustling leaves outsider her cell.  “H-Hello?  Is someone there?” she called out, sitting up on her cot.

                “Miss Belle?”  Rumpelstiltskin’s daughter stepped into view, her face looking oddly wan in the torchlight.  “I-I just wanted to apologize for my Papa.  He’s trying to be a better person, but he struggles sometimes.”  She pulled out a small, cloth-wrapped package from a pocket in her lilac dressing gown and handed it through the bars.  “Here—it’s just bread and cheese, but I thought you might like it.”

                Belle took the offering with a grateful smile.  “Thank you,” she said.

                The girl smiled back at her.  “You’re very welcome,” she said.  “Don’t take it too personally, Miss Belle; it takes Papa a while to warm up to most people.  I know it took him some time to warm up to me at first.  I’ll talk to him.  It’ll all turn out alright in the end, you’ll see.”

                “Do you ever feel like this town is turning into a big ol’ soap opera?” Liam asked, lounging on his stomach on Jake’s bed, his chin propped up on his fist.

                Jake swiveled around in his desk chair to face his friend and raised an eyebrow at him.  “How do you figure?” he asked curiously.

                “Well, you’ve got the feud going on between Sheriff Swan and the Mayor,” said Liam, rolling onto his back and counting out on his fingers as he began to list off his observations, “then there’s your sister’s not-so-secret affair with the ex-coma patient; Mr. Gold is always shady, but now you’ve got his daughter being all secretive and avoiding her friends; there’s Henry, the mayor’s son, who’s also the son of the woman she hates, so he’s being pulled in, like, five different directions; you’ve got the suspicious death of Sheriff Graham, who was way too young and healthy to just drop dead from a heart attack like the paper said; and then there’s the stranger who no one wants to talk about, but everyone secretly spies on…need I go on?”

                Jake narrowed his dark eyes at his friend.  “Okay, so there’s been a lot of drama around town lately.  What of it?” he asked.

                Liam sat up and shrugged, eyes fixed on his fingers twining together in his lap.  “Nothing really,” he said.  “Just something I noticed.  Don’t you think it’s weird, though?  I mean, most of this drama didn’t start until after Sheriff Swan came to town.”

                “You sound like Henry now,” said Jake, fixing Liam with a strange look.

                Liam looked up, fixing his unnerving green stare on his friend.  “Maybe the kid’s onto something here,” he said.  “You every consider that?”

                Jake scoffed.  “Sure,” he said, voice thick with sarcasm, “and I’m actually the king of fairytale land.”

                “Well, if Henry’s right, you very well could be,” said Liam solemnly.

                Jake snorted.  “Give me a break, Liam,” he said.  “Henry’s just a kid with an overactive imagination, desperate for his mum’s attention.  That’s all there is to it.”

                “Ten bucks says you’re wrong,” said Liam, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

                “I’ll give you one better,” said Jake, “if Henry’s right about his fairytale theory, I’ll ask out any girl you want me to, but if I’m wrong…”

                “Yeah?” asked Liam, intrigued.

                “If I’m wrong, you have to give up on Bronwyn Hoffman and move on with your life.”

                Liam looked thoughtful for a moment while he contemplated Jake’s counter bet.  For a second the confidence on his face wavered and Jake thought for sure that he’d back out.  “You’ve got yourself a deal,” he finally said, his confidence returning as he held out his hand for Jake to shake.

                Jake took it.  “Hope you’re ready to fill your end of the deal,” he said, smirking, “cause I’ve got this one in the bag.”

                Liam smiled widely.  “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, Jake,” he said.  “I have a feeling about this one.”

                “Give it three months?”

                “Sure,” agreed Liam.  “That gives me plenty of time to prove Henry right.”

                Jake snorted.  “Good luck with that, mate,” he said.

                Lucy had been right.  Belle wasn’t sure she was surprised at that; there was something in the girl’s blue-grey eyes that spoke of a wisdom and understanding beyond her tender years.  Slowly but surely Rumpelstiltskin was warming up to her.  He gave her new clothes and an actual bedroom, but most importantly he trusted her with Lucy.

                “My Lucy wants to learn more about this realm,” he informed her one morning while she was serving them breakfast.  “You will teach her.”

                “Papa!”

                “What?  That was polite.”  Lucy glared at him.  “Alright, please.”

                “Thank you, Papa,” said Lucy.

                “The things I do for you, child,” he grumbled.

                “So will you teach me?  Please Miss Belle?” asked Lucy, bouncing in excitement.

                Belle smiled warmly at her.  “Of course I will, Lucy.  It would be my pleasure.”

                Jake usually wasn’t one to be late for school, but for some reason this morning he found himself running behind.  “Do you want some pancakes before you head off?” asked Emma, standing over the stove cooking breakfast.

                “Thanks, but I don’t have time,” Jake said, grabbing his worn, forest green backpack on his way out the door.

                He ran down the stairs of the apartment building and out onto the street.  As always, Liam was waiting for him on the corner of Main Street, nervously chewing on his thumbnail.  “You’re cutting it close today, Jake,” he said, relief evident in his moss green eyes as he caught sight of his friend.

                “Yeah, I had a bit of a rough start this morning,” he admitted, snagging the brunette by the arm and forcing him to keep pace or be dragged.

                The two teens practically ran toward the Academy.  The trip, which usually took them twenty minutes, only took fifteen and they made it into the building with minutes to spare.  They had almost made it into Ms. Goody’s classroom when Jake ran smack into a small person, causing him to ram into Liam and sending all three down to the ground.  “Oh, gosh, are you okay?” asked the girl, wiggling her way out from the bottom of the pile and pulling herself to her feet.

                “I’m good,” said Jake crisply.  “Liam?”

                The brunette boy groaned.  “My leg got knocked outta place,” he admitted, cheeks flushing red with embarrassment.  Jake smiled sadly at his friend and offered him a hand up.  Liam grabbed his prosthetic leg and took the offered hand, hopping to keep his balance as Jake steadied him against the lockers.

                “Are you okay?” asked the girl, concern evident in her English-accented voice.  “Do you need me to get the nurse?”

                “No, I got this,” said Jake.  He looked up for the first time and his face went white as a ghost when he saw who he had run into.  “L-Lenore Gold,” he croaked.  “Y-you’re—”

                Lenore rolled her stormy eyes.  “Yeah, I’m Gold’s daughter,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her small still-developing chest.  “What of it?”

                “Nothing,” said Jake hastily, holding up his hands in surrender, “I just…we don’t…I didn’t expect to see you here.”

                Lenore raised an eyebrow at him and her pink lips twitched into a small smile.  “I do go here too, Jake Blanchard,” she said.  “I don’t know where else you’d expect to see me on a school day.”

                “That’s not—” Jake sighed and ran his fingers through his raven hair.  “I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said.  “I’m just not used to running into you here…or at all really.”

                “Ditto,” said Lenore, smiling up at him.  “I was just messing with you, anyway.”

                Overhead the final bell rang and Jake groaned, leaning his head back and smacking it into the lockers that ran along the wall.  “My sister’s going to kill me,” he said miserably.

                “Cheer up, Jake Blanchard,” said Lenore, smiling.  “Sometimes it pays to have a Papa like mine; just let me take care of everything and you boys’ll be off the hook.”

                “Why would you do that?” asked Jake, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.  “You barely know us.”

                Lenore shrugged and gave him a sad sort of smile.  “I just like helping people, I guess,” she said softly, but something in her eyes made Jake believe there was more to it than that.

                “Uh, guys, it’s great that we’re not in trouble or anything, but I’m still hanging around sans a leg here,” said Liam from the spot Jake had helped him lean against.  “One of you wanna help me get my leg back on or at least help me hobble over to Nurse O’Connor’s office?  This is actually really uncomfortable.”

                Lenore giggled and Jake hurried to help his friend balance against his shoulder.  “I’ll come with you,” she said.  “We’ll get everything straightened out, promise.”

                “I’ll hold you to that,” said Jake.  “I really don’t know what my sister would do if she found out I was late for school.”

                “She’d probably think it was some sort of teenage rebellion,” said Liam casually as he hopped down the hall, his arm around the raven-haired boy’s shoulders.

                “What were you boys doing cutting it so close this morning anyway?” asked Lenore curiously.

                “I overslept and this fool decided to wait for me instead of heading off on his own,” said Jake.

                “What were you doing coming in so late?” asked Liam.

                “Oh, I had something I had to take care of this morning and it took longer than I expected,” said Lenore vaguely.

                “You coulda just told me to mind my own business,” said Liam.

                “Now, that would just be rude,” said Lenore, smiling playfully.  “Not to mention far less amusing.”

                “You’re a strange girl, Lenore Gold,” said Jake, eying her speculatively.

                “Why thank you, Jake Blanchard,” she said.  “I do try.”

                “You should do something nice for Miss Belle, Papa.”

                Rumpelstiltskin fixed Lucy with his reptilian stare.  “And why would I go and do something like that?” he asked, indulging her as any good papa ought to.

                “Well, besides the fact that I like her…because you love her,” said Lucy simply, taking a ladylike sip of her tea.

                Rumpelstiltskin coughed as he nearly choked on his own tea.  Once he could breathe again, he said, “Wherever did you get that idea, Lucy dear?”

                “I saw you two kiss yesterday.  You wouldn’t have let Miss Belle kiss you if you didn’t love her.”

                Lucy wasn’t sure, as Rumpelstiltskin’s golden scale-like skin remained the same as always, but she imagined that her Papa blushed.  “That’s ridic- that’s prepos- she kissed me, I’ll have ya know, Miss Busybody.  Besides, I already gave her a library.”

                Lucy squealed in delight.  “I knew it!  I knew you’d given her something big!  Did she like it?  Is that why she kissed you?  Is she staying with us forever?  Is she—”

                “One question at a time, Lucy dear.  I can’t keep up.”

                Lucy blushed, her cheeks turning pale pink.  “Sorry Papa.  I’m just so happy for you, for both of you, really.  Where is she anyway?  I know she’ll tell me everything.”

                Rumpelstiltskin’s face fell.  “I sent her away,” he said softly.  “I let my temper get the better of me and now she’s gone.”

                “Oh Papa.”  Lucy lunged across the table and hugged him tight.  “I’m so proud of you.  You did the right thing by letting her go instead of hurting her.  I’m sure she’ll come back; you’ll see.”

                Rumpelstiltskin tightened his hold on his daughter.  When he spoke, it was so soft that even she could barely hear him.  “I hope so,” he said.  “I was a fool—I-I love her, Lucy.”

                Earlier that morning, in a large mansion near the Storybrooke town line…

                “How do you like your new place, Graham?” asked Lenore, sipping on her tea slowly.

                “It’s nice,” said Graham.  “A little lonely out here, but nothing I can’t handle.”

                “Oh?” said Lenore, raising a dark eyebrow delicately.  “How’s your new roommate treating you?”

                Graham shrugged.  “I haven’t seen much of her, to be honest,” he admitted.  “Who is she back home, anyway?”

                Lenore frowned thoughtfully.  “You know, I’m not quite sure,” she admitted.  “All I really know is that she’s someone that Regina goes to extraordinary lengths to avoid.  Her name here is Nadia Faire, as I’m sure she’s told you, but I have no idea who she was back in the Enchanted Forest.”

                “Does she remember, like us?” asked Graham.

                “I-I’m not entirely sure,” said Lenore, setting her china tea cup down on the coffee table in the opulent living room of Miss Faire’s mansion.  “She’s…different, for sure, but I’m not sure whether that’s just her cursed personality or if she was like that before.  If I knew who she was, I could tell you more.”

                “Who do you think she is?” asked Graham curiously.  “And don’t tell me you haven’t given it any thought; I know you, Lenore.”

                Lenore giggled and glanced into the kitchen where their hostess was busy fixing a rather large breakfast of eggs, pancakes, bacon, toast, and fruit for herself and her guests.  Nadia Faire was a tall, willowy woman with hair as black as night that tumbled down her crème colored robe-covered shoulders in waves.  Her skin was porcelain pale and flawless; her eyes were a deep, unfathomable sapphire blue.  She had a small, pointed nose with an aristocratic turn and full, ruby red lips set in a long, oval face.  Lenore’s overall impression of her was that she had to be someone important; royalty or nobility, perhaps.  Regina’s active avoidance of her suggested that she was a fellow sorceress, perhaps one who (back in the Enchanted Forest) wielded more power than the Evil Queen.  “Someone you wouldn’t want as your enemy,” she said in answer to Graham’s question, turning her stormy blue eyes on him.  “Don’t mess this up, Graham.  I don’t think either of us would last if we ended up on Miss Faire’s bad side.”

                “If you think I’m bad, you should meet my twin sister,” said Nadia from the kitchen, her alto voice melodious and strong, the presence of some sort of accent that Lenore couldn’t place coloring her words and making her seem all the more exotic and mysterious.

                “If it’s all the same to you, Miss Faire, I think I’d like to avoid that as long as possible,” said Lenore, shivering slightly.  “No offence.”

                “None taken,” said the older woman, sweeping into the living room as if she were wearing a gown rather than a robe and a skimpy navy nightdress.  “Natalia can be rather…intimidating, to say the least.”

                “If she’s as beautiful as you, I believe it,” said Graham without thinking.

                Nadia’s ruby lips quirked into a smile and her eyes sparkled with mischief.  “We’re nearly identical,” she said.  “Are you saying I intimidate you, Mr. Humbert?”

                Lenore smiled widely as Graham honest-to-God blushed and babbled, “W-well, I just mean—that is, you’re a lovely woman…very lovely, beautiful even, and I just—”

                “Smooth, Graham, real smooth,” said Lenore dryly.

                Nadia let out a musical laugh.  “I’ll take your babbling as a compliment, Mr. Humbert,” she said, gracing the handsome man with a brilliant smile.  “Flattery with get you everywhere with me.”  She turned her attention to Lenore suddenly.  “How is your father doing, dear?” she asked, genuine concern in her voice.  “I heard about the incident with Mr. French.”

                “Oh, he’s fine,” said Lenore dismissively.  “He just let his temper get the best of him, is all.  Sheriff Swann arrested him, but it’s Papa, so he obviously wasn’t held for long.”

                Nadia chuckled and Graham cracked a smile.  “That’s Tobais alright,” said the raven-haired beauty.  “He always manages to weasel his way out of whatever sticky situation he finds himself in.  Your Papa has a mean streak a mile wide, Miss Gold, and a temper to match, but when he loves, he loves fiercely and forever.  I think there was more to his attack on Mr. French than meets the eye.”

                Lenore fixed the older woman with her scrutinizing gaze.  “I could say the same of you, Miss Faire,” she said, a small smile creeping across her face.

                “And I of you, Little Lioness,” said Nadia, matching the girl’s smile with her own.

                “I feel like I’m missing something here,” said Graham, confusion etched on his handsome face.

                “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Mr. Humbert,” said Nadia airily.

                Graham turned to Lenore quizzically.  “I’ll explain later, Graham,” the brunette girl said.  “Just…I’m pretty sure we’ve got a new ally for our cause.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Ten: How Do You Catch a Cloud?

Ben kept a close eye on Sister Astrid as he lugged boxes of candles down from the convent with his fellow dock workers, Chad, Darren, and Loren.  Whoever had decided that his clumsy sister should be the one to get up on a ladder, of all things, needed to get her head checked.  He was pretty sure it had been Mother Superior’s call, as always, and Astrid could never bring herself to say no to the woman who had had a hand in raising both of them.  He had just made up his mind to go over and help her out when someone else got there first. 

“What’s Leroy doing with your Sister Astrid?” asked Darren, pushing the floppy fringe of his chestnut hair out of his eyes.

“I don’t know,” said Ben, icy blue eyes narrowing suspiciously, “but I’m going to find out.”

Ten-year-old Astrid Newport had been the first person to hold little Benjamin Kingsley when he was abandoned on the convent steps one night deep in the heart of December.  The baby, as far as the Sisters could tell, was only a few days old when young Astrid, heading out to fetch the morning paper, found him.  Ben was a strong baby to have survived at least a few hours out in the frigid could of a Maine December wrapped only in a thick, red, woolen blanket.

“So I think there might be something going on between my sister and Leroy.”

Ruby groaned and rested her head on Ben’s shoulder.  “You’re really killing the mood, honey,” she said.  “Are you sure you wanna talk about this now?”

Ben smiled sheepishly at his girlfriend.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “I didn’t mean to; I just can’t get over it.  Astrid’s a nun, for Christ’s sake!  I’m not supposed to have to worry about my nun sister falling in love with anyone, let alone Leroy!”

Ruby sighed and lifted her head from his shoulder.  “Leroy’s not as bad as everyone makes him out to be,” she said.  “He’s actually kinda sweet, under that gruff exterior.”

“That’s not the point!” said Ben, rolling onto his back in the bed and flinging his arms up.  “The point is that Astrid’s a nun; she shouldn’t be having romantic feelings for anyone!”

“Maybe they’re just friends,” said Ruby, rolling onto her side so that she could trace patterns on Ben’s bare chest.  “Nuns are allowed to have friends.  Have you talked to her about this?”

“No,” admitted Ben sheepishly.

“I didn’t think so,” said Ruby with a knowing smirk.  “I know you, Ben, and you have a tendency to make assumptions first and ask questions later.  Maybe you should try something new this time.”

“But it’s Astrid,” protested Ben.  “I can’t just sit back idly and do nothing.”

“You’ve never been idle a day in your life,” said Ruby.  “You just need to relax, baby.”  She slowly ran her hands up his bare chest, eliciting a shiver from the younger man.  “Let me take care of you, Ben.  You don’t always have to be in control of everything.”

Astrid found herself drawn to little Ben.  She had lived in the convent that occasionally doubled as an orphanage for as long as she could remember and planned to take her vows as soon as she was old enough.  With Ben, though, she found something that she’d never realized she was missing: a family.  She took it upon herself to care for the little orphaned boy and in return he loved her as big sister and a pseudo-mother all rolled into one.  When the Sisters praised her for her good deeds, she simply smiled a little half smile and combed her long fingers through little Ben’s blonde hair.  He wasn’t a charity case to her or something to gain the Sister’s praise.  Little Ben was simply her brother in everything but blood.

“Hi Ben!” said Astrid happily, waving wildly and smiling brightly at the blonde haired man.  “Have you heard the good news?”

“Mr. Gold decided to waive your rent this month?” suggested Ben, setting the down the heavy box of supplies beside her table.

“No, silly,” said the twiggy brunette.  “Leroy and Mary-Margaret sold all of our candles!”

“Did they now?” said Ben, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“Leroy just told me,” she said, dark eyes bright with happiness.  “We’ll make rent this month after all, Ben!”  She pulled the taller man into a tight hug.

“I’ll have to thank him personally,” said Ben, his gaze sharpening toward the short handyman.  He smelled something fishy, and it wasn’t the lingering scent from working the docks.

“Be nice, Ben,” Astrid said sternly, catching on to the way that the blonde was looking Leroy.  “He’s been a big help; he’s actually a sweetheart once you talk to him.”

“So I’ve heard,” Ben said dryly.

Astrid took her vows when she turned eighteen.  As she stood with Mother Superior and Father Dubois she couldn’t help but glance out at the congregation.  There, sitting in the very front row wearing a smile that stretched from ear to ear and into his sparkling blue eyes, was little Ben.  She couldn’t help but grin back; a genuine, face-splitting grin.  Mother Superior did not approve, but Astrid thought she saw a small smile on Father Dubois kindly, old face.  None of that mattered to her, though, because all she needed was her little Ben supporting her as she fulfilled her lifelong dream.

“Ben, you’ve spent more time tonight staring at Leroy than me,” complained Ruby, huffing loudly.  “This is supposed to be our date night; leave the drunk alone with his beer and pay attention to your loving, hot girlfriend.”

Ben blushed sheepishly and focused his attention back on his girlfriend.  “Sorry, Ruby,” he said.  “I’m just worried about Astrid.  I’ve never seen her so smitten before.  I just want to be sure that if she’s going to give up everything she’s worked her whole live for, it’s for someone who’s worthy of her.”

Ruby’s face softened and she laid her hand on Ben’s arm, squeezing gently.  “You’re a good brother, Ben,” she said, “but it’s Astrid’s life.  You’ve got to let her make her own decisions, mistakes and all.”

Ben sighed.  “I know,” he said, “but she’s my sister.  I just worry about her.”

“I know you care, Ben,” said Ruby, “but you’ve got to let this go and trust your sister…like I trust mine.”

“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds so logical.”

“I have my moments,” said Ruby, a smirk on her scarlet lips.  Ben grinned back and leaned over the table to kiss her soundly, all thoughts of Astrid and Leroy forgotten…for the moment.

Ben had been homeschooled at the convent that doubled as an orphanage (though there were never more than ten children residing there; usually far less) for all of his young life.  When he was almost eleven, he came to Astrid, begging her to get Mother Superior to let him go to school in town with children his own age.  Astrid knew how lonely it could be at the convent as a child (especially since little Ben was the only boy out of the six children currently residing there).  She went to Mother Superior on multiple occasions for weeks, imploring her to allow little Ben to leave the convent and venture into town.

                “I can’t believe him,” said Astrid, unshed tears shining in her dark brown eyes.  “I trusted him.”

                “Oh Astrid,” sighed Ben, gently tugging the older woman down onto the couch beside him and pulling her into his arms, “I’m so sorry.”

                Astrid rested her head on her brother’s shoulder.  “I know you don’t really like him,” she said sadly, “but he was so sweet.  I really thought he was a good person.  What am I going to do now, Ben?  We’ll never make rent this month now and it’s all my fault!”

                “You know I’ll help out however I can,” said Ben, “but I’m no miracle worker.”

                That earned him a small smile from his sister.  “I never expected you to be,” said Astrid.  “You’re a grown man now Ben; you have your own life to live.  You shouldn’t have to deal with my screw-ups anymore.”

                “You’re my sister though, Astrid, and you’ll always be my sister.  I’ll always do whatever I can to help you,” he promised.

                “How could I let this happen?” she sniffed, wiping the tears from her cheek with the back of her hand.

                “You didn’t let anything happen, Astrid,” said Ben soothingly.  “You’re a naturally trusting person, that’s all.  That’s not a bad thing, big sis.  It’s one of your best qualities, but…sometimes people take advantage of you because of it.”

                Astrid sniffed.  “I know,” she sobbed.  “I just can’t seem to do anything right.”

                “Oh, Astrid,” sighed Ben, “that’s the furthest thing from the truth.  I think you did a pretty great job of raising me.”

                “Yeah, well look at what I had to work with,” she said, a small smile appearing on her delicate face.

                “I am pretty awesome, aren’t I?” said Ben, smirking at Astrid.

                She whacked him lightly on the arm.  “Ben!”

                “What?  It’s not like I’m lying or anything,” he said cheekily.  “You’re the one who always tells me I’m the best little brother in the whole world.  I even have the coffee mug to prove it.”

It was just after little Ben’s eleventh birthday (the day that Astrid had found him on the convent steps) when Mother Superior relented.  Little Ben would be allowed to attend school in town after Christmas break—on the condition that Astrid would be responsible for seeing him to and from school (the bus didn’t run near the convent as the Sisters generally taught the orphans themselves).  Astrid happily agreed, even offering to be his guardian for the school records (which Mother Superior agreed to as if it had been her plan all along), and ran off to tell little Ben the good news.

                “The decorations look really nice this year, Astrid,” said Ben.  “You did a great job.”

                “Thanks, Ben,” said Astrid, her smile not quite reaching her dark eyes.  “I only hope we can raise enough money to meet Mr. Gold’s rent.  I don’t know what we’ll do if we can’t.”

                “Isn’t this where Mother Superior tells you that ‘God will provide?’” said Ben with a wry smile.

                “She would, except she blames me for this,” said Astrid, her lips falling into a slight frown.  She glanced wistfully over at the booth that was selling the convent’s candles.  “He’s not even there.”

                Ben sighed and pulled his tall sister close, under his arm, and rested his head on hers.  “I’m sorry, sis,” he said.  “I really wish things had been different.”

                Without warning, all the lights at the festival blinked out, plunging the convent grounds into darkness.  “What was that?” asked Astrid, wide eyes searching the grounds frantically.

                “I’m not sure,” said Ben, doing the same.  His eyes alighted on the candle booth and a smile slowly spread across his face.  “Actually, I have an inkling.”

                “What?”

                “You know how you always say that God will provide?” he said.

                “Yes?  What’s that have to do with this?” asked Astrid.

                Ben gently turned his sister so that she was facing the candle booth, where Mary-Margaret was selling candles left and right to frantic Storybrooke citizens.  “I think this is Him providing for you, Astrid.”

                “Or His angel,” she said, a soft smile on her lips as Leroy joined the school teacher at the booth to help her sell the candles.

Little Ben was ecstatic.  The rest of Christmas break creaked by with the speed of a tortoise for the boy.  Finally school resumed as January rolled in.  That first day, little Ben was ready to go hours before most students were even awake.  He practically vibrated with nervous energy all the way through breakfast and his excitement was almost tangible the entire, albeit short, car ride into town.  His icy blue eyes were wide with wonder as he took in the landmarks that most residents took for granted: Granny’s Diner, Mr. Gold’s Pawn Shop, the clock tower stuck perpetually at 8:15.  This was his first time outside of the convent grounds and he savored every moment.  In almost no time, they reached the school and Astrid parked the car in the guest lot.  Astrid and little Ben climbed out of the car together and she hugged him close as he stared in wonder at the large building and the flock of children wandering in.

                “Welcome to Storybrooke, little Ben.”

                “Go on,” said Ben, gently pushing Astrid toward the candle booth where Leroy and Mary-Margaret were putting up a SOLD OUT sign.

                Ben cleared his throat, causing the two Storybrooke outcasts to look up.  “Astrid,” said Leroy, staring at her with longing in his dark eyes.  He turned back to grab a lock-box and presented it to her.  “Here you go; five thousand dollars, as promised.  I’m sorry I lied to you.”

                Astrid took the box.  “Oh Leroy,” she said.  “Thank you.”  She stepped toward him and pulled the shorter man into a hug.  “This means so much to me—to all of us, really.”

                Ben’s smile slowly turned to shock as his sister—his shy, predictable nun sister—kissed Leroy full on the mouth.  Apparently he wasn’t the only one who saw either.  “Sister Newport, just what do you think you’re doing?”

                Astrid, Leroy, and Ben all jerked their heads around and saw a scowling Mother Superior standing not three feet from them.  “M-mother Superior,” Astrid stuttered nervously, “I can explain.”

                “I dearly hope so,” the delicate, stern-faced woman snapped.  “This is not acceptable behavior for one of the Lord’s servants.”

                “Mother Superior—”

                “Keep out of this, Benjamin,” said the older woman sharply.  “This doesn’t concern you.”

                Ben gathered his courage and faced her head on.  “Actually, it does,” he said, blue eyes blazing passionately.  “Astrid might not be my sister by blood, as you so often remind us, but she’s my sister at heart and that’s what really counts.  If Leroy makes her happy then, God help me, I stand behind them one hundred percent.”

                Mother Superior’s dark eyes blazed with fury.  She turned her fierce gaze on the couple in question.  “Is this what you choose, Sister Newport?  You would abandon your commitment to the Lord for the town drunk and this boy?”

                “Mother Superior,” said Astrid, her voice uncharacteristically strong, “while I appreciate everything you have done for me over the years, I am a grown woman able to make my own choices.  I’ve been unhappy for a while now, Mother, and I’ve prayed extensively over this.  This is not a decision I make lightly, nor is it based solely on my affection for a man.  I’m not meant for this life; I see this now.  I thank you for raising me and giving me a chance to serve the Lord, but I cannot continue down this path.  Do what you will to me; my decision will not change.”

                “So be it,” said Mother Superior stiffly.  “You have one hour to gather your belongings and say your goodbyes, then you must leave the convent and never return.”  Before Astrid could respond, Mother Superior had turned on her heel and was stalking back into the convent.

                Astrid quickly deflated after Mother Superior left.  “D-Did I just do that?” she stuttered.

                “If you mean you gave ol’ Mom Supes what-for, then yes,” said Ben plainly.

                “I’ve told you time and again not to call her that, Ben,” said Astrid automatically, the response ingrained in her after so many years of telling him off for such disrespect.

                Ben rolled his eyes.  “Seriously, sis, learn to take a compliment,” he said.  “So, what are your plans from here?”

                Realization dawned in Astrid’s dark eyes.  “I have nowhere to go,” she said frantically.  “What am I going to do, Ben?”

                Ben pulled his sister out of Leroy’s arms and into his own.  “You’re going to come live with me for a while, Astrid,” he said.  “It’s my turn to take care of you, for a change.”

                “Thanks, Ben,” said Astrid, leaning her brunette head on his shoulder.  “I’m so lucky to have you as my brother.”

                “Well, you picked me, Astrid.”

                “Yes, I do have good taste, don’t I?”

                Ben smiled and kissed to top her head lovingly.  “Don’t ever change, Astrid.  You’re amazing just the way you are.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 11: Because I Knew You 

                Susan fell to the ground with a great thud as Narnia’s magic released its hold on her.  Winded, it took her a moment before she could pull herself up and brush off her uniform skirt.  She took in her surroundings with a keen and careful eye that missed nothing.  She might be Queen Susan the Gentle, but she’d also been a formidable warrior in her own right during the Golden Age; her skills in archery far outstripped all others. 

She was in a strange wood on the edge of a clearing; off on the far side of the clearing she could make out a small cottage with smoke curling out of the chimney.  She knew from experience that once the sun set, the safest place to be in a strange wood was with someone who knew its secrets.  So, holding her head high like the queen she was, Susan made her way across the clearing.

                Tori couldn’t help but listen in on her sister’s conversation with Mary-Margaret, Ashley, and the new sheriff as she gathered dirty dishes from the table of unlikely friends Mr. Winter (the toy maker), Mr. Harrington (the baker and owner of Easter Sweets bakery), Dr. Fitzgerald (the town dentist), and Mr. Sanderson (the special ed. teacher).  The four were bickering over Mr. Winter’s adopted son Jim, as usual, but still spared a smile and an extra tip for their young waitress.

                “Hey, Tor,” called Ruby, “wanna join us for a girls’ night out tonight?”

                “Sure, Ruby,” said Tori, catching little Alexandra’s pacifier before it hit the ground.

                “Thanks, Tori,” said Ashley gratefully.  “I can’t tell you how many of these things I’ve lost already.  I really need this night out.  Are you sure you can’t come, Emma?”

                “Someone’s gotta keep Storybrooke safe,” said Emma with a wry smile.

                Ruby sighed.  “Alright, I’ll take that excuse, but I expect you to join us next time.”

                “I can’t make any promises,” said Emma, “but I’ll try my best.”

                “You don’t know how much I need this night out tonight,” moaned Ashley, banging her head down on the table.  “Sean’s been working so much lately so I’ve been alone with Lexie all day every day.  I desperately need some adult time.  Do you know any good babysitters who’ll work for cheap?”

                “Have you asked Lenore Gold?” suggested Mary-Margaret.  “I know she’s only thirteen, but she’s really responsible and she’s great with kids.”

                “Mr. Gold actually lets his daughter out of the house at night?” said Emma incredulously.

                “You’d be surprised,” said Ruby.  “He’s actually shockingly lax on the rules when it comes to his precious Lenore.  Normally I’d suggest Tori, but she’s coming with us.  Otherwise, I know Astrid Newport could use the money; she still hasn’t found a job since she left the convent.”

                “That’s actually perfect,” said Ashely, raising her head from the table.  “Can you ask Astrid for me, please?”

                “Sure thing; I’ll talk to her on my break.”

                The cottage door was opened by a stern, old woman dressed in a plain homespun dress and a red apron.  “Can I help you?” she asked, her voice sharp and to the point.

                “Yes,” said Susan, her voice strong despite her circumstances.  “I’m afraid I’m rather lost, ma’am.  I’m seeking shelter for the night and I was hoping I might impose upon your good graces.”

                The old woman narrowed her eyes behind her half-moon glasses and was about to shut the door when a tall, beautiful brunette girl popped up behind her.  “Granny, we have to help her,” the girl insisted, dark eyes pleading.  “You’re the one who taught me to help those in need.”

                The old woman gave a sigh of frustration.  “Oh alight,” she said.  “Come on in, Miss…?”

                “Susan.  My name’s Susan,” the pale brunette replied, stepping inside the cottage.

                “I’m Red,” said the older brunette girl, clad in a beautiful red cape.  “This is my grandmother, the Widow Lucas.”

                “Red will take you into the village tomorrow,” said Granny roughly.  “I’m sure someone there can help you find your way home.”

                “Thank you so much, ma’am,” said Susan, dipping into a graceful bob of a curtsey.  “I truly do appreciate your kindness and hospitality.”

                The old woman narrowed her eyes at Susan.  “I’ll be keeping an eye on you, girly,” she said.  “You can share a room with Red tonight.”  Without waiting for a response, Granny turned and walked into the small kitchen, leaving the two girls alone.

                Tori watched with wary eyes as Ruby knocked back her fifth shot of straight rum and called for another.  One of the waitresses—a tall, curvy brunette named Marian—came over with her drink and a coke for Tori.  “Thanks,” said the underage girl.

                “No probs, sweetie,” said the young woman.  “Let me know if you need me to call a cab for you tonight, ya?  I know your sister can get pretty rowdy sometimes.”

                “Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay,” said Tori, watching as Ashley downed her third shot of tequila.  “Mary-Margaret doesn’t drink much.”

                “Alright; just holler if you need me.”

                Tori felt uncomfortably out of place as the night went on.  She smiled and chatted with the other two waitresses (Carmen and Gypsy, both exotic, caramel-skinned beauties), but for the most part she simply nursed her coke and kept a close eye on her unpredictable older sister.  The first sign of trouble came not long after Ashley left with Sean to celebrate their sudden engagement.  She’d noticed for the past half hour or so that a couple of young women (not much older than Ruby) had been staring their direction from a table in the far corner.

                “Mary-Margaret, do you recognize those two women?” she asked the older woman quietly, discreetly pointing the pair out.

                Mary-Margaret glanced over at the pair.  “The blonde is Misha Priestly, which means the raven has to be Natalia Faire. They’re both trouble, Tori; I’d advise you to stay as far away from them as you can.”

                “Why?” asked Tori curiously.

                “They’re both rich heiresses and party girls who enjoy getting into and causing as much trouble and chaos as they possibly can.  Natalia’s twin sister Nadia is their total opposite; she’s such a sweet girl.  Unfortunately the two get mixed up a lot; the only visible difference between the two is their eyes.”

                “Why do they keep staring at us?” she asked.  “I’ve never met them before.”

                Mary-Margaret sighed.  “Ruby’s told me she’s had a few less than pleasant encounters with them in the past.  She’s probably why they’re so fixated tonight.”

                Tori stole another glance toward the other table and found herself locking eyes with a pair of poisonous green orbs.  “They’re making me very uncomfortable,” she said.  “Can we get out of here please?”

                Mary-Margaret took one look at Tori’s worried face and caved. “Of course, honey,” she said.  “Let me quick tell your sister what’s going on and then I’ll take you home, alright?”

                “Thanks, Mary-Margaret, I really appreciate it.”

                Susan had gotten lucky; when she and Red had gone to the village for the first time, the elderly seamstress just happened to be looking for an apprentice and she agreed to take on Susan.  Months passed and Granny had warmed up to the young girl and insisted (in her own, gruff way) that she stay on with them for as long as she liked.  The three women had fallen into a sort of routine; Granny, always the last to bed, slept in in the mornings while Red went out to the coop to gather eggs for breakfast and Susan stuck the bread (kneaded the night before and left out to rise) into the wood stove.  Once Red came inside with their daily eggs, the two girls would cook breakfast together before Susan headed off into the village for work.

Tori was twitchy the next day at school; she still couldn’t get over the strange feeling she’d had last night at the bar.  “Who stuck a bee in your bonnet, Lucas?” asked her classmate Jim Winter, a troublemaker with white, spiked-up hair and a superiority complex a mile wide.

“That’s none of your business, Winter,” she snapped at him.  It was times like this, when she was tense and on edge, that the little bit of her personality she liked to call her “inner Ruby” popped out.

“Hey, I was just trying to be personable, Lucas, no need to bite my head off,” Jim snapped back, shoving his pale hands into the pouch of his worn, blue hoodie.  “See if I try to be nice again,” he grumbled and began to walk off.

Tori sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.  “Wait, Winter, I didn’t mean to snap at you,” she said.  “I’m just on edge right now, that’s all.”

“You wanna talk about it?” Jim asked, rocking back and forth on his untied, navy converse.

“With you?” snorted Tori.  “No offence, Winter, but we barely know each other.”

Jim shrugged.  “Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger than a loved one.”

Tori raised a delicate eyebrow at him.  “Are you talking from personal experience, Winter, or are you just blowing out hot air?”

Jim shrugged again and stared at the ground.  “Look, I know I’m the town screw-up and all around troublemaker, but I’m a person too.  I have layers!”

Tori’s lips twitched in an almost smile.  “Like an onion?” she asked slyly.

Jim threw his head back and barked out a laugh.  “Sure, Lucas, like an onion.  Or a parfait.  Everybody likes parfait.”  His smile disappeared and he looked her in the eye, his pale blue eyes glinting like chips of ice.  “Seriously though, think about it Lucas, alright?  I’m not putting a time limit on my offer and you know where to find me.”

“Thanks, Winter,” she said.  “I’ll think about it.”  The strange thing was that she really did mean it.

As autumn started to turn to winter, Granny surprised the girls with a small celebration to “officially” welcome Susan to their small family.  A few days later, Susan was putting the bread into the stove as usual when she heard a strange noise coming from the chicken coop, where Red was out gathering eggs.  Glancing over at Granny, sleeping slumped over in her favorite chair and clutching her crossbow tightly, Susan pulled on the royal blue cape the old woman had gifted her with as a welcome to the family gift and headed outside to check on her adopted sister.

Susan moved swiftly and silently toward the chicken coop.  Reflexes took over at the entrance and she had the dagger she kept in her belt at the neck of the strange woman before any of them could as much as blink.  “Who are you and what are you doing on our land?” the usually gentle young woman asked harshly.

The strange woman, pale throat bobbing under Susan’s knife, opened her mouth to speak, but Red beat her to it.  “Susan, this is Mary-Margaret,” she said hastily.  “She just needs a place to stay, like you did.”

Susan huffed and lowered her knife.  “Fine,” she said, sticking the knife back into her belt and pointing threateningly at the older brunette, “but you get to tell Granny.”

                Tori had a half day of school and was early for her shift at the diner, as usual.  As she tied on her apron, she noticed something odd.  “Where’s Ruby?” she asked Tara.

                The African-American girl shrugged.  “She’s been missing all day,” she said.  “Granny’s in a rare mood because of it.  Maybe you could talk to her?”

                Tori frowned.  “I don’t know what good I’ll be,” she said, “but I can certainly try.”

                She slipped into the kitchen and found Granny barking orders at the cook, Tony.  “You call this diced?” she snapped at the heavyset man, who was stoically stirring a large pot on the stove.  “I’ve seen cleaner cuts from a kindergartener!”

                “Granny, can I talk with you?” Tori interrupted softly.

                Granny turned her rich, brown eyes on her granddaughter and her face softened.  “Sure thing, Tori,” she said.  “What can I help you with?”

                “Are you alright?” Tori asked gently.  “Tara said Ruby’s missing today; I know how that worries you so.”

                “Ruby’s a big girl; she can take care of herself,” said Granny gruffly, busying herself with the log book.

                Tori wasn’t fooled in the least.  “Granny…do you want me to go out and look for her?”

                Granny scoffed.  “Don’t be silly; you’re only seventeen.  You shouldn’t be running around town willy-nilly after your sister.  She’ll show up eventually; she always does.”

It took some getting used to, fitting three young women of a similar age into one room, especially since only one of them was used to sharing a room at all.  Despite this (or perhaps because of it), the three young women discovered just how much they had in common and quickly became the best of friends, Susan even trusting the others enough to tell them of her adventures in Narnia.  It was for this reason that Red and Susan (along with Granny) chose to join Mary-Margaret, who was really Princess Snow White, on her crusade to take back her kingdom from the Evil Queen.  Susan felt at home with Red and Snow in a way that she hadn’t felt since the Golden Age of Narnia and Snow’s resistance kept her too busy to worry about what might have become of her siblings during their time apart.

Granny might not have been worried, but Tori was.  Lying to Granny about a paper she needed to write, she headed down Main Street to the last place she knew for sure she’d seen her sister.  She nervously stepped into the Rabbit Hole, a place she’d never gone alone.  The pub was far different during the day than it was at night, though it’s gloomy, dark atmosphere still remained.  Tori wandered up to the bar where a single bartender was busy wiping down glasses.

Tori cleared her throat and the dark haired woman behind the bar looked up and smiled at her.  “Hi Tori,” she said.  “What are you doing here so early in the day?  Is Ruby with you?”

“That’s actually why I’m here, Carmen,” said Tori.  “Ruby didn’t show up for her shift today.  This is the last place I saw her and I was wondering if you’d seen her.”

“Nope, she hasn’t been around this morning,” said Carmen.  “In fact, the only customers I’ve had so far have been the Faire twins.  They’re still here, if you want to talk to them.”  She motioned over to a table hidden back in the far corner of the room where two identical dark heads were bent together in conversation.

Tori blanched.  She’d never had reason to interact with the Faire twins, but she knew from Ruby that one was as nasty and mean as the other was kind and gentle.  She hoped that because they were sitting together, they would balance each other out and she’d get out of this encounter unscathed.  “H-h-hello?” she stuttered hesitantly as she approached the twins, both intimidating in their otherworldly beauty.

Tori blanched as a pair of cold, green eyes glared at her.  “Natalia,” chided a warm, melodic voice, “leave the poor girl be.  How can we help you, dear?”

Tori turned to face a much warmer pair of blue eyes and felt herself relaxing.  “I was told that you might have seen my sister—Ruby Lucas?  She didn’t show up for her shift this morning and this is the last place I know she was.”

Natalia sniffed.  “Have you checked with that dock worker boyfriend of hers?” she said with a sneer, her voice as cold as her sister’s was warm.

Tori opened her mouth and then quickly clicked it shut.  She blushed.  “I—actually I didn’t think of that,” she said.

Natalia scoffed, but her twin sister smiled warmly at Tori and said, “That’s okay, sweetie.  You were scared; people don’t always think logically when they’re scared.”

“Th-thank you, Miss Nadia.  I appreciate the help.  I’m going to go check with Ben now.  It was…nice meeting you.”

“You too, sweetie,” said Nadia with a bright smile as her twin sulked across from her.  “Good luck finding your sister.”

Every so often, Susan would fall into a deep depression, remembering with melancholy her long lost husband and daughter.  The worst of it had been just before the curse hit, when Mary-Margaret was heavy with child.  She’d never said a word about it to her two closest friends, until about a week before the young royal gave birth. 

Susan was sulking in a dark corner of the library when she heard the soft tread of footsteps approaching.  She stilled her breathing to almost nothing, hoping the silence would keep company away.  No such luck; with a graceful swish of skirts, Red sat down beside her and gently nudged her shoulder.  “What’s up Su?  You’ve been acting odd lately—even Snow and her prince have noticed.”

“There’s something I’ve never told you, Red,” said Susan, staring morosely out the window, “something about the first time I grew up.”

Red gently put her arm around the younger woman’s shoulder.  “Do you want to talk about it?  I’m willing to lend an ear.”

Susan sighed and gently pulled away from Red.  “The first time my siblings and I were in Narnia, I met somebody special.  At first I hated him, but eventually we fell in love.  My older brother preformed the marriage and two years later I gave birth to a prefect little girl.  When we fell back into our world, I unintentionally left my husband and daughter behind.  I never saw them again.”

“Oh Susan…”  Red reached out to hug her, but Susan pushed her away.

“Not right now, Red, please.  I don’t want to be touched; I just need some time alone.  This will pass eventually; it always does.”

“Still…” Red stood and smiled sadly at her friend, “please don’t hesitate to come to me when you are ready to talk.  I love you Su, so does Snow.  We’re sisters and sisters take care of each other.”

Tori wanted to kick herself; she couldn’t believe that she hadn’t thought of checking with Ben first.  She’d only ever been to Ben’s apartment once before, but she easily remembered her way through one of Storybrooke’s poorest neighborhoods.  Ben lived in a small, third floor apartment about a mile from Herman’s Cannery.  Last time she’d been there, he’d shared the place with his fellow dockworker, Chad Noah Collins.  She’d heard through the grapevine at the Academy that Chad had finally moved in with his girlfriend Molly Peterson and her siblings, so she wasn’t really sure what to expect. 

Tori reached Ben’s building far sooner than she’d expected and she nervously reached forward to press his number on the call box. An unfamiliar female voice answered.  “Hello?”

“Uh—does Ben Kingsley still live here?” asked Tori uncertainly.

“Of course! Come on up!”  Tori head the quiet click of the lock and she opened up the door to the building.

In no time at all, she was up three flights of stairs and standing in front of Apartment 3H.  She knocked and the door was opened by a tall, thin wisp of a woman.  “Hi.  Can I help you?”

“Uh, yeah.  You just buzzed me up, I think.  I’m looking for Ben?”

“Of course; come on in.  Ben’s in the shower; he’ll just be a minute.  I’m Astrid by the way—Ben’s sister.”

“Oh!  I’m Tori, Ben’s girlfriend’s sister.”

“Ruby’s sister!  It’s so good to meet you—Ruby talks about you all the time.”

“You know Ruby?” asked Tori.

“Of course; she’s over here all the time,” said Astrid.  “I actually just moved in with Ben—I recently went through a change in careers and Ben has been kind enough to let me stay here while I figure things out.”

Tori blushed.  “I-I didn’t mean to imply…”

Astrid laughed.  “I take no offense; it must seem odd, a strange woman you’ve never met answering the door of your sister’s boyfriend’s home.”

Just then Tori heard a door click open down the narrow hall of the apartment.  “Astrid?  Who’s here?”

“Hello Ben,” Tori called out, recognizing the voice.

Ben stepped into view, clad only in a towel.  His blonde hair was dark and still damp, clinging to his forehead.  “What brings you here, Tori?” he asked, confused.  “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here more than once ever.”

“I’m looking for Ruby—have you seen her today?”

“Uh, she didn’t call you?” said Ben, ruffling his hair nervously.

“Hence me being here,” said Tori, arching a perfectly coifed dark eyebrow at him.

“Uh, well, she’s back in the bedroom, but the thing is…”

“Ben?  Are you coming back to bed?”  Tori’s older sister slid up behind her boyfriend, clad only in a sheet, dark hair cascading down her shoulders.

“Hello Ruby,” said Tori, narrowing her eyes at her sister.  “Do you know how worried Granny and I have been?”

Ruby waved her hand dismissively.  “Yeah, right.  You don’t have to lie for Granny, Tor.  I know how she really feels about me.”

“Ruby, you know she lov—what’s that on your hand?”

“Oh this?” said Ruby nonchalantly, resting her left hand on Ben’s naked chest to display a tastefully sized diamond ring adorning her ring finger.  “Ben and I got married last night.”

Tori blinked.  “Could you repeat that please?  I’m not sure I heard you right.”

“Oh you heard me, Tori.  Last night, after I left the bar, I met up with Ben and we decided to get hitched.  Astrid got Friar Michaelson to officiate and she witnessed.  It’s a done deal now, Tor; you’re looking at Mrs. Benjamin Kingsley.”

“You do realize Granny’s going to kill you, right?”

“Only if she finds out,” said Ruby.

“You really expect me to keep this a secret from our grandmother?  She’s not as unobservant as you think she is.”

Ruby sighed heavily.  “Look, Tor, just give me some time.  Please.”

Tori pursed her full lips and considered her sister’s offer.  “Fine,” she finally said.  “I’ll give you three days, that’s it.  If you haven’t told Granny by then, I will.”

Ruby smiled brightly.  “Thanks Tor, you won’t regret this.”

Tori smiled wryly.  “Oh I probably will, but you’re my sister and I love you so I’m giving you a chance.  Three days, Ruby.  Don’t let me down.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 12: It’s a Scary World Out There

                There was a cell, deep under Regina’s castle, that had no windows or doors, no light of any kind.  The only way in or out was a small, barred hole in the ceiling through which a rope ladder was lowered anytime one needed to descend; few ever ascended.  It was here that Edmund found himself, courtesy of the Queen’s guards.  A bucket of water was lowered down what he guessed was about once a week and food more rarely than that.

                Time meant nothing down in the dark hole and so Edmund didn’t know how long he’d been down there when he unexpectedly found himself pulled out by two pairs of rough, unforgiving hands.  Before he could get his bearings in the dim light of the dungeon (so much brighter than his hole), he found his hands and feet clamped in cold iron manacles and he was frog-marched up the stairs out of the dungeon in silence.

                Edmund kept his sensitive eyes tightly shut through the dimly lit halls of the castle and cleared his mind to escape from his sad reality.  He soon found himself thrown to his knees on the hard marble of the Queen’s personal chambers.

                Jake woke up like any other day, yawning and stretching his arms above his head.  He padded his way softly down the stairs after using the bathroom and slid quietly onto one of the stools at the kitchen island.  He reached for the plate of muffins (blueberry, his favorite) on the counter and glanced at the note sitting in front of them.  His lips jerked in an attempt at a smile as he recognized his sister’s elegant script.  The note informed him that she’d left early so she could get a head start on setting up her booth for Miner’s Day.  Jake groaned and rubbed at his tired eyes.  He’d forgotten it was that time of year already.  Every year Mags asked for his help and he was hopeless to resist her big, green eyes.  As much as he hated crowds (and people in general), he just couldn’t say no to his sister when she asked for his help.  He read the note again and was surprised when he realized that Mags hadn’t mentioned anything about needing his help.  His brow furrowed in confusion.  How odd, he thought as he nibbled absently on his muffin.  He supposed he’d just have to find something else to occupy his day then.

                Edmund keep his dark eyes fixed on the floor as the Queen paced back and forth in front of him, her black heels making a sharp clacking sound on the floor.  She finally came to a stop directly in front of him, her toes pointed forward and her feet evenly spaced.  “I grow tired of your foolish resistance, pest,” she sneered.  “For the last time, will you join me?”

                Edmund straightened his spine and dared to look the Queen in the eyes; eyes so like his that, but for the darkness lurking in hers’, they might have been family.  “I’ve told you, your majesty, that I will not help you kill your step-daughter—the rightful queen of this land.”  He smirked at the astonishment that flashed ever so briefly across her flawless features.  “Oh yes, your majesty, I’ve heard things while enjoying your gracious hospitality; things I’m sure you’d rather I not know.  I know that you were married to Snow White’s father and that she is the one meant to be on the throne, not you.”

                Edmund was expecting the hit when it came, but the Queen’s strength still surprised him as the blow to his face caused his weakened body to tumble to the floor.  “Shut your filthy mouth, pest,” she hissed, staring down at him with contempt.  “You know nothing of which you speak.”  She used her dark magic to pull him to his feet until he was dangling in the air, just inches above the ground.  The Queen began to circle Edmund, scrutinizing him carefully.  He refused to be cowed this time and kept his gaze steady and his head held high.

After breakfast, Jake headed out to find Liam as school was closed for Miner’s Day (as always).  He found his friend walking his large black lab, Fang, out by the docks.  “Liam!” he called out, waving the tall, lanky boy down.

“Hey Jake,” Liam replied in his nasally voice.  “What do you have planned for us today?  Does Maggie need any help with her booth for the festival?”

Jake shrugged.  “She didn’t say anything this morning, so we have the day free this year.  If you’re up to it, I thought we could take a hike through the woods with Fang.  Whadd’ya say?”

Liam rubbed absently at the place where his left leg met his prosthetic.  “Sure, why not,” he replied.  “My leg’s feeling pretty spry today; besides, it’s been a while since we’ve gone hiking together.  Let’s do it.”

                The Queen finally stopped in front of Edmund and grabbed his face by the chin, her long nails digging uncomfortably into his pale, freckled cheeks.  “You know,” she said thoughtfully, jerking his head to the side to study his profile, “you could pass as Snow White’s brother.”  She turned his head the other way briefly before jerking him forward to look into his eyes.  “Yes,” she said, a glint of something appearing in her eyes, “I believe you could pass as her brother.  Of course, not a full brother—you’re much too young for that.  Perhaps…yes, I do believe I could work with that…”

                “Wh-what are you talking about?” Edmund asked hesitantly, the malicious smile slowly crawling across the Queen’s face making him increasingly nervous.

                “I believe I have just figured out how you may be of use to me, little pest.”

                “I told you I’ll never help you defeat Snow White!” Edmund exclaimed, jerking his head to free himself from her strong grip.

The Queen sneered and smacked Edmund across the face, leaving behind three thin scratches from her blood-red nails on his left cheek.  “How dare you defy me!” she snarled.  “You will regret that, pest!”

Jake, Liam, and Fang wandered through the woods in silence for a while.  Finally Liam spoke.  “How’s your sister doing with all the drama going around town right now?”

Jake shrugged.  “She’s holding it together—kinda,” he said.  “She’s thrown herself extra hard into the Miner’s Day festival this year…Can we not talk about her right now though?  Please.”

Liam narrowed his moss green eyes at his pale friend, but nodded in agreement.  “Sure Jake,” he said.  “What should we talk about, then?  How about that weird encounter with the Gold girl the other day?  What was that all about?”

Jake groaned and buried his head in his hands.  “Of course you would go for that,” he mumbled.  “I have no idea what that was all about, Liam,” he said.  “I’m just as much in the dark as you.  I’ve certainly never interacted with the girl before.”

Liam made a face as he absently tugged on Fang’s leash (he’d been following a smell and was wandering too far).  “I dunno, bud,” he said, “it was weird.  Like, she’s Gold’s daughter.  Why the heck was she talking to us?”

“I’ve got an even better question for you,” said Jake, staring at something off in the distance.  “What’s she doing wandering alone in the woods?”  He pointed his finger at the distant, but distinct figure for Liam to follow.

“What say we follow her and find out?” said Liam, his curiosity taking over as Fang yipped at his heels in agreement.

Edmund gasped as the Evil Queen thrust her hand into his chest and grasped a hold of his heart.  She sneered and squeezed lightly, causing his breath to hitch in discomfort.  “If you won’t follow me willingly, I’ll just have to make you obey,” she said, pulling her hand out slowly. 

Edmund stared in shock at the still beating heart in the Queen’s hands.  “How am I not dead?” he gasped, dark eyes wide in fear.

“Magic, dear Edmund,” she said with an insidious smile.  “Now you are mine to command and you will do exactly as I tell you.”  Edmund opened his mouth to speak.  “Silence,” snapped Regina.  “You will not speak unless I tell you to.  From now on you will only respond to the name Prince Daniel, my son and my late husband’s: the rightful heir to Alba’s throne.  This will crush Snow’s precious little rebellion for sure.”

Jake, Liam, and Fang stealthily followed the small figure of Lenore Gold through the thick woods.  They had to make a quick dash behind some trees a few times, but somehow managed to avoid detection.  Soon they reached what seemed to be Lenore’s destination: a small log cabin that would have seemed deserted but for the smoke pouring out of the chimney.  They crouched behind some berry bushes as Lenore scanned the forest before she knocked on the door and was admitted by someone who was apparently expecting her.

The boys crept forward, keeping low to the ground, and settled underneath a window on the side of the house where they could hear faint voices steadily growing stronger as they moved closer and closer.  Liam absently stroked Fang’s head to keep him calm and quiet as the boys strained their ears to hear what was being said inside.

“…it won’t be much longer, I promise.”  The Gold girl Jake mouthed to Liam.  He nodded in agreement.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” said a second voice—male and adult.  “You know I’m thankful for everything you’ve done for me…I’m just going a little stir crazy, even with Miss Faire as a roommate.”

“Is everything alright with you two?”

“There’s nothing wrong…I just…” the man heaved a heavy sigh, “with the return of my memories, I’ve come to realize how much of a hermit I am and living with another human…I can’t tell you the last time I did that.  That’s why I asked if we could meet up here instead of the house—it’s so secluded out here.  I love it.”

“I’m sorry you can’t stay here,” Lenore said, sympathy obvious in her voice, “but Papa’s been restless lately and that’s usually when he comes out here.  This is his thinking place.”

Liam took a chance and glanced through the window.  His face blanched and he looked at Jake with wide green eyes.  “What’s wrong?” Jake whispered.

“That’s Sheriff Graham in there,” Liam whispered back.

Jake’s dark eyes widened too.  “But I thought he died!”

“Apparently not,” said Liam.  “This town just keeps getting weirder and weirder.”

“I can’t disagree with you there, mate.”

Edmund stared blankly ahead from his seat on the plush throne, desperately trying to ignore the Queen’s dark presence at his side and the aching emptiness in his chest.  Queen Regina set a perfectly manicured hand on his shoulder in what appeared to be a gesture of comfort but was actually one of possession before she stood to address her assembled court.

“My people,” she began, her voice strong and steady, “it is with great pleasure that We are finally able to introduce to you our son, Crown Prince Daniel.  Before today We could not trust our son’s safety would not be compromised in the public eye, but after the traitor Snow White’s latest attack, We realize that We must not hide him anymore.  Sot it is with deepest pride that We present to you Prince Daniel Leopold, son of Queen Regina and the late King Leopold of Alba—may he rest in peace.  Long live Prince Daniel!”

“Long live Prince Daniel!”  The assemblage began to repeat the chant.

Regina took Edmund’s hand to draw him to his feet, a secret smirk evident on her crimson lips.  “Smile for your people son,” she hissed in his ear.  Edmund—Prince Daniel—had no choice but to obey, as the Queen quite literally held his heart in her possession.

Jake and Liam left the woods shortly after their discovery as not to test their luck.  They made their way back to town in silence where they finally parted ways, Liam off to his house and Jake off to town square to find his sister.

Jake arrived to find that Mary-Margaret had had some unexpected help in setting up her Miner’s Day booth this year in the form of Leroy, the handyman and town drunk, and Sister Astrid (“Former sister,” she informed him politely.).  Jake slipped into his usual role of helper and roamed around the square with a box of candles to sell. 

Of the three, it seemed he was the only one who had any luck selling them…until an unexpected blackout caused a rush in sales and they suddenly found themselves sold out.  Jake joined his sister and her friends in celebration, toasting each other with mugs of hot chocolate (no cinnamon for him, thank you very much—his sister’s taste buds were just plain weird).

Their joyous revelry was interrupted by a somber faced Emma Swan, newly appointed Sheriff, who pulled up not in her yellow bug, but in the town’s only police cruiser.  “Emma, what’s wrong?” Mary-Margaret asked as the blonde woman stopped in front of her.

“I’m so sorry to do this Mary-Margaret,” she said, “but I have to place you under arrest.”

“Arrest?” exclaimed Jake, spewing hot chocolate out of his nose.  “What the bloody hell for?”

“Yes, please, what have I done?” asked Mary-Margaret, genuinely confused.

“Mary-Margaret Blanchard, you are under arrest for the murder of Katheryn Nolan.” 

Chapter Text

Chapter 13: …But I Remember Her

Jefferson shot up out of his bed and ran his hands frantically through his short chocolate brown hair.  Something wasn’t right.  He was in Wonderland, making hats and trying to find a way home to his Grace—at least, that’s where he was when he had fallen asleep at his worktable.  Which was definitely not where he was now, if the plush mattress and warm blankets were anything to go by.  He frantically looked around the room for a way out.  It was dark still, the room full of shadows in the eerie light of early dawn, and silent, save for the muted sound of the television as some old black-and-white show filled the screen.  Jefferson blinked.  What the hell was a television?  Better yet, why did he know what one was?

Jefferson had been watching the new sheriff since she’d first showed up in town, returning the queen’s son to her.  He saw that she was the reason that time was finally moving forward and he realized what that must mean, so he began to plan.  He knew that she was the only one with any kind of magic in this magicless wasteland and therefore was the only one who could bring life back to his hat, so that he could take Grace back home.  He only needed something to kick-start his plan…

Frantic, he threw off the covers and leapt out of bed.  He tore across the room, fumbling along the wall for any sort of exit.  He found a door and wrestled with the knob, desperately trying to open it.  He finally succeeded, banging his side against the doorframe in his haste.  The room inside was lit with the pale bluish-white glow of a moon-and-star nightlight that was plugged into an outlet above a black marble countertop.  The room itself was decorated in shades of midnight blue and contained a white porcelain toilet and an old-fashioned claw foot tub of the same black marble as the counter.  Jefferson’s blue eyes widened.  He truly was mad; all this strange knowledge filled his head as he needed it, running parallel to the knowledge he had gained over the course of his life.  He yanked open the mirrored cabinet above the white porcelain sink, searching for clues, and came across a whole army of orange plastic prescription bottles, all written out to one Jefferson J. March.  Jefferson March—at first that name tasted strange on his tongue, but then—

Running into Snow White wandering alone in the woods was a stroke of luck—and just what Jefferson needed to kick off the next stage of his plan.

He stepped out from behind a tree.  “Are you lost?” he asked, startling the princess.  “I don’t see many people out here at this time of night.”

Snow White glanced around nervously.  “I-I was out walking my dog and-and I l-lost him,” she stammered.  Jefferson could see through her lie like glass.  “I-I’m sure he’s not far—I’ll be okay on my own.”

“No, no—I insist.  Let me help you,” said Jefferson, grabbing Snow’s arm none too gently.  “After all, two sets of eyes are better than one, your highness.”

Tricking the bandit princess into heading towards his house was child’s play—as was knocking her out and tying her up.  His mind raced as he shut the door to the room the unconscious Snow White was stowed in; he was so close to getting his Grace back he could practically taste it.  All he needed now was for the new sheriff to notice the missing princess and come looking for her.  He hummed an odd, off-key tune as he made his way down to the kitchen to make sure that he had everything he needed for the arrival of his next guest.

“Aaaaa very merry unbirthday to me!” Jefferson sang as he dug through the cupboards and pulled out a small vial of a clear, unlabeled liquid.  He smiled happily as he set it to the side on the counter, along with a tin of tea and his spare tea set.  Once he was sure that he had everything ready, he left the kitchen and headed off to check on the sheriff’s progress.  It wouldn’t be long now.

He remembered days spent at the lake with his father Jamison and stepmother number three.  He had been a teenager then, going through the middle stages of a particularly nasty rebellion.  He’d recently discovered the joyous effects of mixing stepmom’s sleeping pills with—

No!  He’d never met his father, much less had a stepmother.  He dropped the pill bottle he had unconsciously opened as if it were a poisonous snake.  He darted out of the bathroom, frantically searching along the walls of the still-dark bedroom for a way out and—he found it.  He yanked the door open with more force than was strictly necessary and ran off down the hall.

Daylight was streaming in through the large hall windows, bright and cheery—he’d thought it was still night.  There were so many rooms shooting off of the hall; empty, lavish rooms, more than any one person could ever—

Nothing was going according to plan.  Both women were loose in his house and thought him nothing more than a crazed lunatic.  Jefferson let out a growl and rubbed his head where Emma had hit him with his own telescope before racing off through the house after the blonde sheriff.  He found her in the second-floor room he’d stashed Snow White in—Emma had freed her, of course—and attacked her out of desperation.  During the fight, the scar around his neck was exposed.

“Oh God,” said Emma, horrified.  “What happened?”

Jefferson just laughed hysterically and tilted his hatted head to better show off his worst nightmare come true.  “Off with his head,” he said, a manic look in his blue eyes.

Jefferson was sixteen the first time his father had him committed.  He had brought his only son to a board meeting in downtown New York and the teenager had had a complete mental breakdown, which had included a severe panic attack and several uncontrollable violent outbursts.  The doctors at the institution spoke to Jefferson like he was a child, all fake smiles and condescending tones.   When they thought that Jefferson couldn’t hear them, they told his father that he suffered from severe agoraphobia, which explained his sudden panic attack.  They gave him medication, bottles upon bottles, to help him, but all Jefferson could think about was the look of furious disappointment in—

Jefferson limped back into the house slowly, his hope dashed much like his head had been.  When Snow White had knocked him out of the second story window, he’d bashed his head on ground so hard he’d blacked out instantly.  For some reason, he’d been left where he’d fallen even though the women had gone.  When he woke, it was dark—he had no idea if days had passed or merely hours.

None of that mattered, though, because the Savior didn’t believe—wouldn’t help him get his Grace back.  He’d simply have to find another way.  He caught a glimpse of himself in the entry way mirror as he passed by; he was a mess.  Instead of dwelling on his injuries and disheveled appearance, Jefferson decided to tackle the mess in his hat room first.

No!  Jefferson turned a corner too sharply and bashed his head on a protruding door frame hard enough to make him dizzy for a brief moment.  He shook his head and the moment passed, though when he reached up to touch the spot, he found a small cut that was bleeding rather profusely (as head wounds are prone to do).  The door frame he had run into was different from the others along the hall (and apparently down the stairs, he noticed idly, that he must have come down while caught in a not-memory).  There was something about it that reminded him of his workshop-cell in Wonderland, so he was understandably reluctant to open it.  Still, maybe he ought to…

Hats.  The room was filled to the brim with hats of all shapes, sizes, and colors.  He recognized them; how could he not?  He’d only spent the better part of the past two years making them under her orders, all in a vain effort to recreate the magical effects of his own beloved top hat so that he could return home to his Grace.  Top hats, bowlers, fezzes, bonnets, tricorns, bicorns, caps, fedoras—

He had just finished setting the last of the salvageable hats on shelves when a timid knocking echoed through the house.  Curious and wary, he grabbed a pair of sewing scissors and tucked them into the waistband of his pants before trudging to the front door.

He opened the door to find a small brunette girl with large—familiar—stormy blue eyes staring up at him.  He frowned.  “Why are you here?” he asked rudely.

The girl gasped and her dainty hands flew to cover her mouth.  “It is you,” she whispered reverently, lowering her hands.  “I heard them say…but I just wasn’t sure…”

Jefferson’s brow knit in confusion.  “What are you babbling on about?  Who are you?”

The girl’s face fell.  “You don’t remember me,” she said sadly.  “I should have known…though I was a bit older when last we met.  By the Lion’s Mane—” She sighed and turned to leave.

“Wait,” Jefferson called gruffly.  He squinted his eyes and looked closer as she turned back around.  “L-Lucy?”

A sunny, familiar smile broke across her face.  “You do remember,” she squealed happily, leaping forward to hug him tight.  “I was so afraid it wasn’t you, Jefferson.  But when I heard Sheriff Swan and Miss Blanchard talking…”

“Wait,” said Jefferson, pulling away, “how are you here and younger than when you disappeared?  Are the others here too?”

Lucy’s laugh tinkled like happy bells.  “One question at a time, Jefferson,” she said.  “Why don’t you invite me in for tea and I’ll fill you in on everything that’s happened since last we met.”

“Of course,” said Jefferson, hastening to open the door wider to allow her in.  “Do you still prefer honey with your tea?”

“Always, Jeff; I’m surprised you remember.”

“I remember everything, Lucy,” he said solemnly as he shut the door behind them, “every bloody little thing.”

Jefferson hated his father.  Jamison and his stupid bowler hat could go jump off a bridge for all he cared.  He scowled at the back of his father’s head—hat and all—as they drove through the small town and up into the woods.  He didn’t want to be here; he wanted to be back in New York at the March family mansion, where his alcohol and quick fixes were readily available.  But Jamison had had enough of his son and his boozing, womanizing, druggie ways, and now he was being exiled (basically) to the middle of—

“NO!”  Jefferson cried out, knocking down shelf upon shelf in his anger, ripping brims from bases, sweeping piles of fabrics, ribbons, buttons, and lace onto the floor, throwing—

Lenore came across Henry and Paige hanging out on the beach where their castle used to be.  She timidly approached the pair.  “Hi,” she said softly, eyes fixed on the ground and yellow converse scuffing the sand.

“Well look who it is,” said Paige, hurt evident in her voice.  “So, you’ve finally decided to grace us with your presence, Miss Gold.”

“Paige…”  Henry’s voice held a tone of warning for the blonde.

Paige snorted and rolled her eyes, “Whatever Henry,” she huffed.  “I still think you’re being too nice.  What do you want, Lenore?”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so distant lately,” said Lenore sincerely.  “I never meant to ignore you…I’ve had a lot going on in my head lately and I haven’t been sure how to deal.  I’d like to fill you in on some of it though…if we’re still friends.”

Henry lunged at her and gripped her in a tight hug.  “Don’t be stupid, Len,” he said, “you’re our best friend, no matter what.  I hate it when we fight.”

Paige stood, eyeing Lenore thoughtfully.  “Something’s really bugging you, isn’t it?” she said.

“More than you can possibly imagine,” she said, giving Paige an indecipherable look.  “Are we good, Paige?”

Paige took Lenore’s hand and pulled her away from Henry to have her turn hugging their friend.  “Of course, Len.  I’m sorry I’m such a drama queen sometimes—I just hate that you’ve suddenly got this whole other life that doesn’t include us.”

“What did you want to tell us?” asked Henry curiously.  “Is it about Operation Cobra?”

“Some of it,” admitted Lenore.  “It’s not really the kind of thing you talk about in public, though.  Can you guys meet me at my place around seven tonight?  I’ve got someplace safe we can talk.”

“I’m in,” said Henry.  “Mom’s been working late trying to convict Miss Blanchard so she’ll never notice I’m gone.”

Paige shrugged.  “You know my parents; they’re cool with whatever, as long as I stay safe and tell them who I’m with.  I’m in too.”

“Alright then, I’ll see you both later.  And guys?  Bring snacks; it’s gonna be a long night.”

There was a telescope.  How he knew what the shiny silver and black contraption was didn’t matter.  There was a telescope inside the house, in this evil room of hats, pointed out the window.  He knew this to be somewhat odd but, never one to ignore curiosity, he dropped the scissors that he didn’t remember picking up in the first place and waded through the sea of hats to the telescope.  Cautiously he peered through it and saw—

Grace! His Grace was here!  She was sitting on a red-and-white checked cloth that was laid out on the grass, having a picnic with a young couple.  The woman had wild black hair and a dancers’ grace; the man was blonde and built like a soldier.  Sitting between the couple and across from his Grace was a second child—a boy, younger than Grace by a few years at least—with hair just as blonde as the man’s, but with a darker complexion, only slightly lighter than the woman’s.  Not that they mattered.  All that mattered was that Grace was—

“So where are we going?” asked Henry, bundled up in a dark grey peacoat and a black and grey striped scarf.  “Is it far?”

“Not really,” said Lenore, pulling her house key out of the pocket of her yellow and white flower printed raincoat and locking the door.  “We do have to walk a bit though.”

“I’m game,” said Paige, cheeks flushed pink with the evening chill, even bundled as she was in a pale pink fleece and matching fuzzy white gloves, hat, and scarf.  “Let’s get going.”

“Follow me,” said Lenore, leading her friends down the drive and off in the direction of the forest.

When the trio reached her papa’s cabin, Lenore quickly ushered them inside.  “Hurry now,” she said, glancing around to make sure no one else was there, “we don’t want anyone to catch us out at this time of night.”

The friends settled on cushions in front of the fireplace and took off their coats.  “So will you tell us now what’s been going on with you?” asked Paige bluntly.

“Of course,” said Lenore.  “Where would you like me to start?”

“The beginning would be nice,” said Paige.

“Alright, well everything began shortly after Emma’s arrival.  I started having these strange dreams—good dreams, mostly, but strange.  They reoccurred almost every night for about a week and then—”

“And then what?” asked Henry.

“I woke up.”

A sudden touch to his shoulder had Jefferson whirling around, ready to defend himself.  The woman standing there was tall and fair, dressed to kill in an expensive black power suit, grey silk blouse, and killer black heels.  She had shoulder length black hair, lips painted ruby red, and a familiar scar on her upper lip, pulled into a permanent sneer.  Her dark eyes were cold and calculating, much like—

“Regina.”  She smirked.

“Welcome to Storybrooke, Jefferson.”

Once Lenore finished her tale, she finally looked up from her hands to face her friends.  Both Paige and Henry had their eyes wide with shock.  “Y-you believe me, don’t you?” she asked quietly.

“Of course!” Henry was quick to respond.  “It’s just—wow.  A lot’s happened to you lately.”

“You can say that again,” said Lenore wryly.

“So wait, if you remember, that must mean that you know who everyone was in the Enchanted Forest!” said Henry excitedly.

“Well, not everyone,” said Lenore.  “Also, I would mention that I’m not originally from the Enchanted Forest—my story is a bit more complicated than that.”

“Do you know who Rumpelstiltskin is?” asked Henry.

“Do you know who I am?” asked Paige.

“Yes and yes,” said Lenore.  “Are you sure you want to know?  You could still do your detective thing and find out for yourselves.”

Paige and Henry glanced at each other.  “We’ll think about it,” said Henry.

“One more question, Len,” said Paige.  “Who are you really?”

Lenore smiled brightly.  “I thought you’d never ask.  My real name is Lucy Pevensie, adopted daughter of Rumpelstiltskin and Queen of a land called Narnia.”