"What?"
"I just never really thought it mattered much. But now that you're thinking about changing back, it does matter, and I'll remember it this time. Okay?"
He smiled and held out his hand for her. Smiling back, she stepped onto his palm. "So what do you think about it?"
"I dunno. Would you still be able to fly?"
"No."
"We couldn't really go get new mothers, then. Would you keep any magic?"
"No."
"Then why would you want to do a thing like that?"
"I-- well, there are reasons."
"Like what?"
"You really have no idea?" She smiled, the expression feeling a little wobbly on her face. "Take a guess."
"Oh . . . I don't know, Tink. Let's play something else, huh? What do you think that cloud looks like?" he asked, pointing with his free hand.
"This isn't a game!" she snapped, stomping her foot hard. "I'm trying to tell you I love you, you silly ass!"
Before he could say anything, she was gone, flying off into the trees so fast it only took her light a couple of seconds to disappear.
Normally when she got into a snit, he went after her. Tell her a couple of jokes, change the subject from whatever had annoyed her, and everything'd be fine.
But this didn't feel like a usual snit. This felt a lot bigger than that.
He wanted to be able to follow, tell her that he knew she loved him and he loved her too, they were best mates and always would be. But he knew she hadn't meant 'love' that way. She meant it in. . .
In the way Wendy had meant it, when she'd yelled at him to go away, told him she loved Hook and nothing he said or did would change that, only he had changed it, he'd changed it and changed her and that had only made him feel even worse.
In the way Smee had meant it when he'd said that he wasn't sure if he loved that mermaid or not but he had to find out.
Love came and people left.
He didn't understand it. They always had so much fun. They never had to do a single thing they didn't want to do, they could stay up late and tell stories and play games and just relax all the time. There were never any problems here. But people left.
Now Tink, too?
She loved him, granted, and maybe that meant she would stay but maybe it didn't, because he couldn't go after her and tell her he loved her, not in the way she wanted him to mean it, and him not saying it would hurt her and then she would go.
Unable to think of a single way out of the horrible turn this day had taken, Peter lowered his head into his hands and cried.
Chapter Ten
Once Upon a Time...
"Stupid, selfish, thoughtless . . . boys!" Wendy griped, shoving her way through the brambles at the edge of the woods. John-- John, of all people, her own brother!-- had complained at her for not getting his clothing washed last night. The only reason she hadn't gotten her outfit dirty in the Mud Pit Races along with the Lost Boys and Tink was because she'd been busy doing a week's worth of dishes. And did anyone even say thank you? No!
This place had enchanted her from the moment she'd looked down over it that night so many months ago. Now she just wanted to go Home. She didn't remember much about it, just a vague sense of it being different than this. And different than this looked better and better now.
"Ow! Careful there, you ungrateful wretch."
Startled to hear someone else's voice all the way out here, Wendy crept closer until she could see the owner of the voice. A dark-haired man, sitting on the edge of the Lagoon, feeding--
Her eyes widened. He was feeding scraps of meat to a small crocodile.
"What are you doing?" she asked, before she could weigh the wisdom of announcing her presence to someone who'd clearly taken leave of his senses.
"Who's asking?"
It would be silly to just turn and leave now, she thought. Besides, she was curious. "Wendy Moira Angela Darling," she said, wishing her exit from the woods was as proper as her words. A branch snagged her shirt and two others got caught in her hair. Frustrated, she swatted wildly at all of them, then extended her hand. "Pleased to meet you." I think, she added silently, keeping one eye on the small-yet-certainly-toothy beast a few feet away.
"James," he said. He took her hand, but instead of shaking it as was traditional, he raised it to his lips and kissed the back of her knuckles. She squeaked in surprise and jerked her hand back, and he smiled. Before she could draw in the breath for a good lecture, the crocodile opened its moth and let out an odd hissing noise. She took a step back.
"It's okay," James said. "He can't hurt you."
Peering closer, she realized what he meant. The crocodile's front leg was mangled.
"Poor thing!" she said. "What happened to it?"
"Don't know. Saw him in the water a couple of days ago with blood around him. Got him in a net. So what brings you here?" he asked. "Or rather, who? You're not one of us."
"Believe me, I know that," she muttered. "My brother and I came here with Peter Pan."
"Ooh. I'm sorry."
"Don't be," she said quickly. Yes, she was currently annoyed with Peter, but it was nothing an honest conversation couldn't cure. Without him she never would've even known this strange and wonderful place existed. She'd only gotten saddled with the chores because she'd done them the first several times without complaint-- she hadn't even asked for help. All she needed to do was straighten that part out and things would be exactly like they'd been the first few days. "He's a perfectly nice boy."
"I can't say I wholeheartedly agree, but since you think so I'll say that I'm willing to drop the subject." The crocodile hissed again, and he tossed it another scrap. "Do you want to feed him?"
"I don't know," she said, though she edged a little closer. "I won't lose a hand, will I?" she asked, only half-joking. Wounded it might be, but that didn't mean she was about to pet it.
"He'll have to get quite a bit bigger before he could eat a whole hand. I'd watch your fingertips, though," he said, showing a few pinpricks of blood on his left index finger. "Here." He handed her a small piece of fish. "Just toss it towards his mouth. He'll take care of the rest."
She hesitantly did so, a grin coming to her face when the crocodile snapped the tidbit out of midair. "Is it all right if I come back?" He smiled at her, warm and teasing and she felt her heart speed up a little bit. "Solely to check on him, of course," she quickly added.
"Of course," he said. "I'm sure he'll like that."
He got to his feet, and she saw the large ship in the lagoon behind him. The rowboat moored several feet away. "You work on that ship?" she asked quietly.
James chuckled. "You could say that."
She remembered how she'd introduced herself, in the proper way. He'd only given her a first name. "You're Hook, aren't you?"
"I take it my reputation precedes me."
"You could say that," she echoed, retreating. "I should get back."
"Will I see you again?"
Wendy hurried toward the Lost Boys' hideout, not even bothering to answer the question. Peter had told her all about him. If she'd known who he was she would've run before ever announcing herself. Asking if he would see her again. What a ridiculous question.
***
Two days later she was back at the Lagoon.
Beauty was walking with him in the daylight again.
It had become part of their routine since he had returned from the rebel camp-- now he not only visited her at night, but oftentimes during the day, too, showing her places around the forest that she never would've stumbled across on her own.
Once he'd even taken her close to the rebel camp. As curious as she was about these people, as much as she would enjoy speaking with Alice and Snow White again, she wasn't ready for that level of interaction with so many other people. Wasn't sure if she ever would be.
Still, the knowledge of their presence, combined with the gingerbread house and the odd, amusing pirates and the myriad other places he'd shown h
er made her feel infinitely better about her home.
Beauty followed their usual routine, walking a few paces behind him, secure now in the knowledge that he wouldn't turn to see her face. She felt almost relaxed.
And that was when he froze and spoke quietly, harshly. "Get up a tree."
"What--" she began, her mind filling with images of monsters or Queen's soldiers or a whole band of thieves.
"Now."
Forcing her body to move despite the terror that wanted to lock her limbs in place, Beauty ran for the nearest tree that had some low branches and struggled up into it, moving high up enough that the leaves blocked view of her. The sound of her own heartbeat rang in her ears, the loudest thing she could hear, and then she realized that all of the tiny sounds of the forest that she'd grown so used to over the past months had disappeared. Pushing a little of the foliage aside, she watched, waiting to see what had disturbed her protector so, what had apparently thrown off the entire rhythm of this forest.
When the red-cloaked slip of a young woman entered the clearing, Beauty almost laughed, almost came down and chided Wolf for frightening her like that.
Then she saw the smile on the woman's face, the glint of the knife in her hand, and wondered if his caution wasn't justified.
"Greetings, uncle," the woman said, still smiling that death-promise smile.
"Little Red,” he said tightly.
"What, no kiss on the cheek? I'm offended. What brings you out here? Normally I have to search further in before I find you."
"You're surprised to find me taking a walk? What else is there to do out here?"
"I'm sure I don't know. Perhaps visit the camp of traitors? I will find them eventually, you know. Nobody can hide from me for very--"
The blade was out of her hand before Beauty could even think of shouting a warning, but her friend somehow dodged the motion, moving the instant the woman's hand started to draw back, almost as if he'd known it was coming.
The knife sank deeply into the tree behind him, and another shining blade appeared in Little Red's hand immediately, like it had been lurking under her skin all along.
"Hm," she said. "Pity. Have to try harder next time."
"I think you've always tried as hard as you can with me," he said quietly.
Her smile faltered, just for an instant, but then it was back, teeth gleaming now as she pulled her cloak back to reveal the belt tied around her waist. "Nonsense," she said. "You're merely a game. Just as they were."
Beauty stared at the belt, horrified. From it dangled several wolf tails, some of them adult-sized, some of them so very small. Remembering the pups she'd held, her voice raised of her own accord.
"You absolute monster! What could possess you to do something like that?" And she was down from the tree, hadn't even remembered getting down, but she was here, feet on solid ground again and moving forward.
"Well," Little Red said quietly. "What have we here?" Her gaze darted from her face to her friend's, looking more amused than anything else. "Apparently it has a fondness for dumb beasts. Lucky you."
"Take leave of this place," Beauty snapped. "Now. You don't belong here."
"To the contrary," Red said. "I absolutely belong here. Predators always have a place in the wilderness. So do their prey."
And Wolf had taken her hand, started to pull her behind him, but it was too late. She'd taken one step too far forward, and the other woman sliced at her shoulder with a flick of her wrist.
Beauty gasped and pressed her palm to the wound, staring in disbelief at the blood on her palm, blood matching the red of her attacker's cloak. When she looked up, he was facing her, and she wanted to tell him not to turn his back, that soon there would be a blade in it, but the cloaked woman was gone, as silently as she'd arrived. Beauty could hear the birds singing again.
"Let me see that," he said, and at his words everything slammed into her.
What had she been thinking? Coming out from her hiding place, standing here in full sight of him, confronting someone armed as if she had any experience with--
She turned and hurried into the shadows, under the raised sheltering roots of a goblet tree.
"Curse it all, I'm not going to run!"
"I know that! I know that," she said, lowering her voice. "You don't understand."
"Then tell me."
"If I-- if I looked like this naturally then I don't know if it would matter or not, I hope it wouldn't, but the curse itself does matter. This is what I am."
"What you are right now," he said. "Look at your hands."
She did so, saw that the fur on them was gone, that her nails were no longer the ragged clawlike things they'd been at the start of their walk. "When did that--"
"As you came across to confront Little Red."
Which could quite easily have gotten her killed, she thought. "So acting a fool makes me a better person?" She shook her head. "I can't--" Can't risk getting closer to you than I already am. "I can't do this. And I've seen some of the people you've led to that camp; the way some of the women look at you, you could-- I wish you would just go. If Mother Miriam put this curse on you you'd look exactly the same."
He laughed, the sound short and humorless, and she frowned. "What?"
"You look as you do because you kept putting yourself, your appearance, first. You denied a child needed silver because you wanted a trinket. I watched a woman die because I wanted to keep myself safe."
"What. . ." she whispered. "No, you--"
"I stood in the doorway, and watched them murder her. I might have been able to stop it. I definitely could have said something. But I didn't. I hid, and then I ran. What do you suppose that would do, under your curse?"
"It doesn't matter," she said, and before she could think it through she came out of the shadows. "It matters to who you were then, not who you are now. You help all those people get to safety and what you've done for me-- you stop bad things from happening. That's who you are. Maybe you would've looked like this years ago but now you'd look exactly the same, I know it and I. . ."
"You what?"
"I love you," she whispered, and then she laughed because it was ridiculous, there was no way he could feel the same and that alone should've stopped her from speaking but the realization surprised and thrilled her so much that she hadn't been able to keep silent. "I love you," she repeated. "You're the best man I've ever met and the only one I'd ask to court me once I'm back in a presentable state for courting and I'm not entirely sure why you're still around but I'm so glad you are because--"
"Beauty."
"Hm?"
"Come here."
She swallowed hard and then went to him, though not before tugging most of her hair down in front of her face. It turned out to be a pointless gesture; as soon as she was in front of him he brushed the makeshift curtain back and then covered her mouth with his.
And though she knew she wasn't-- yet-- in that moment she felt beautiful again.
***
“You know she might not leave without her sister.”
“Then we'll bring Estelle, too.”
“Alec,” Snow said, moving in front of him, making him stop. “We can't lead a large group of people out. We'll be lucky to get in and out ourselves without being discovered by mother or . . . or Little Red.”
“Little Red wouldn't--” he began, stopping when he saw the look on his sister's face. She'd long said that he credited Red with benevolence she never had and never would possess. After seeing what she'd done to the wolf pack, he couldn't help but think she might be right.
“We're at least bringing Cybele. I will hear no argument about that.”
“And you will not hear one from me,” Snow White said. “You are quite certain that Little Red will not be using these passages tonight?”
He nodded. “The moon is full. She told me once she doesn't like hunting under a full moon. That it . . . it makes the hunt too easy, and it's over too quickly. I thought she was trying to frighten me, but-
-”
“You were right to be frightened,” Snow said, one hand on the hilt of her sword as they approached an old hollow tree. “Invado,” she whispered, repeating the word that her brother had told her Little Red had said when she'd wished to gain entrance to the palace.
The hollow tree split apart in the middle, revealing a darkened staircase. With a glance back at Alec, Snow descended the stairs.
Chapter Eleven
Once Upon a Time...
Cinderella bounced into the room, a wide smile on her face. The sight was so unusual that Wolfram paused in the middle of his sentence, watching her as she approached her husband and Gold-Tree.
"It is a pointless thing," his mother warned quietly.
"I know." She was already married, to a King no less. He wore finery now, but he was still a peasant, here only because of the King's willingness to indulge in Cinderella's 'harmless' wish.
If the King discovered the way that he felt about his second wife, he had a feeling his magnanimity would end very, very quickly. Probably with his head on a pike in the front courtyard.
"My King," Cinderella said, bowing deeply and smiling up at him. "I've finally cracked this potion!"
"Which potion is that, Cindy dear?" he asked, not taking his eyes from Gold-Tree's face.
Her smile faltered, but only a little. "The one I've been talking about for three seasons now. There's an insistence on executing sorcerers and witches if they abuse their magic, and at the moment it makes sense-- imprisonment wouldn't be the smartest idea because they could use their power to escape. And while there is a necklace that prevents the wearer from using magic, it's the only one of its kind and no one has been able to duplicate it yet."
"Mmm-hm?" He whispered something in Gold-Tree's ear, and she giggled.
"This potion I've created would drain magicians of their powers if they're convicted of using them for ill. Think of it! We don't have to have beheadings out in the Central Courtyard anymore. These people could live, could go about lives normally without an excess of magic tempting them into criminal acts."
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