once upon a time

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Wendy immediately turned away from the captain. There wasn’t much space to get away, not with the two of them in his quarters and pirates on every other level of the ship. She’d been a fool to come here. What had she been thinking? Peter had told her the truth about him from the start, she’d seen them fight, she knew what he was like, didn’t she? Didn’t she know what Peter was like? What his feelings for her were. She shook her head. She wanted to plug her ears so she couldn’t hear Hook speak, but she couldn’t blind herself from what he’d already said. It was ringing in her mind, bouncing off the frame of her skull. Did you think that boy could ever love you? Tears of frustration and confusion burned in her eyes and Wendy quickly rubbed them away. She didn’t want to give Hook the satisfaction of her tears. “So that’s what this is? Some kind of kindness?” she asked bitterly.

“Hey– are you okay?” she asked, peering down to the ground. She held out a hand, offering them help up.

“Don’t touch me,” Pitch hissed, slapping her hand away before rising on his own. As well-intentioned as she might appear, Pitch wasn’t just going to trust Hades’ little servant girl to be as kind as she might pretend. Besides, it had been humiliating enough to trip on what was supposed to be a short and quick expedition. Megara’s aid had been an insult to his integrity, but he knew he couldn’t turn her away. He’d need help eventually, a different kind of help.

“Do you ever have one of those days where it’s just one bad thing happening after the next…and then you’re mildly inconvenienced but that’s the one thing that annoys you the most?” Jim stared down at the sandwich he’d made for himself, which slipped from his hands after he’d tripped over a tree root. “I mean, it’s just a sandwich, but…I was really looking forward to eating that for lunch.”

Wendy giggled at him and shook her head. “I think I know the feeling, although, the loss of such a lovely sandwich really is tragic.” Wendy pulled her bag off her shoulder and reached into her bag, withdrawing her own lunch. The servants had it prepared for her that morning, mostly assembled from the leftovers of last night’s dinner. It wasn’t a sandwich, but it had been a fine meal. “Here, maybe this can turn your terrible day around. I have enough money to buy something new on the way anyways.”

@ofevercfters​ location. villeneuve.

it came as a surprise when wendy had shown interest in her father’s work. sure, she knew that the young woman was remarkable with her knowledge of literature, but regardless, only few came to appreciate the inventions of her father. as such, it seemed only natural to invite the other into her home, to experience them first hand. truth be told, belle tended to get rather nervous when inviting others to her childhood home where her father still resided alone. she found herself pacing around the kitchen, attempting to find little things to distract her to pass the time until wendy’s arrival. 

when the bell chimed, a few quick steps brought her to the front door. a hand grasped hold of the handle, pushing it down and swinging the door open. a bright smile apparent on her features, she stepped back to give wendy some space. ‘ welcome to my father’s home ! ‘ it felt strange to utter those words, knowing that she no longer lived in this place herself. ‘ please feel free to keep your shoes on… i haven’t gotten to sweeping the floors today. ‘ dark hues found the others as she welcomed wendy into their humble abode. 

Wendy had been counting the hours until it was time to visit Belle’s house. She felt like an over-excited child waiting at their parent’s bedside on Christmas morning, too excited for presents to go back to sleep.  She’d tried to fill the hours with reading, with brisks walks through the streets of Villeneuve, but thoughts of Mr. Dupont’s inventions kept filtering through her mind. And the knowledge that Belle’s bright company was enough incentive alone to have her knocking on their front door a few minutes too early.

Wendy beamed when she saw Belle, hurrying through the doorway far too quickly to be polite. She’d barely made it over the threshold before she was turning over her shoulders to look for an invention. She didn’t even know what they were yet, but she couldn’t wait to see how they worked. The cottage was quaint, or at least what Wendy imagined quaint to be like when she read about it in books. “Your home is lovely, Belle,” she said honestly. “Sorry I’m a bit early. I was just... very excited.”

The seasonal realms was one of jack’s favorite places–not only because of how cold their winters were, but also because of how beautiful every inch of the land was. the trees, the flowers, the rivers; it was all breathtaking, especially during this time of year. so when he happened upon a girl looking worriedly over a flower, well, he was of course going to investigate what, exactly, was happening. Jack frowned as he leaned closer to the flower, careful not to actually touch it or the grass surrounding it; he had learned that, despite his best efforts, his magic never truly enjoyed staying under control. if the girl wanted to keep this flower healthy, it was probably for the best that he didn’t freeze it to death on top of whatever else had cursed the poor thing. “why would someone hurt such a small thing?” he questioned, tilting his head to look at the girl, “has this been happening to any other plants around here?”

The question sent a pang of pain shooting through her chest. She remembered fire scorching over her skin, watching flickers of orange and yellow consume everything in sight, burning the landscape black and brittle, coating her in ash. She’d choked on smoke and watched trees she’d nurtured for years, that grew for centuries before she was born, reduced to skeletons of char that crumbled in the wind. She’d barely survived. And what hadn’t been laid to waste in the area had been left like this, poisoned and withered. Through ash or some venomous magic, she did not know. She only knew she could feel their pain lingering beneath her skin, a new hollow pit deep inside her where the forests of the spring court once bloomed. She pinched her lips together and tried to force a smile, anything to keep from crying. She’d already shed too many tears. So instead she smiled and looked up towards this stranger. He seemed kind enough and perhaps that was a blessing in itself. “I’ve noticed it throughout these woods,” she admitted, dusting her palms off on the leaves folded over her legs in a skirt. “It isn’t everywhere, but I’ve seen it fell trees and suck the life from entire fields.” Her weak smile faded.

barrel wasn’t really a fan of nature, he didn’t hate it but he didn’t love it either. the bugs and dirt weren’t really they’re scene but then again, not many places were their scene. deciding to be a bit spontaneous because they had nothing to do for the rest of the afternoon, they took the long way home, walking through the woods. scenic, just good enough for a passing walk, nothing more, nothing longer. “ it could be an omen, oo or a plague. “ the dirty blonde replied as they crossed their arms over their chest. “ been a while since we had one of those, might be interesting. “ 

“Interesting?” Sage wasn’t quick to anger, but the notion that anything so awful could be a source of entertainment was repellant to her. She turned from the stranger beside her and focused her attention towards the flower. If she just tried enough... She bit down on her bottom lip when the plant failed to budge. “What an unkind thing to say.”

          A PART OF HIM felt bad for letting the prince think he could help him,  or that he even had the magic he sought to aid him in the war.   but whatever part of him that was had faded,  and fast,  and once more all he focused on was whatever he could get out of a negotiation with the prince of dalia.   ❝   lucky for you,  i’m in the business of granting wishes.   ❞   oz smirks.   ❝   but magic comes with a price,  and i need to know you’re willing to pay.   ❞

Philip knew that all too well. He’d faced beastly forms of magic and survived them all. But it wasn’t surviving that mattered to him, not really. It was his kingdom, the realm, the safety of the people he loved and every innocent whose wellbeing could be threatened. A high cost, the price of magic might be, but it was one he’d be willing to pay. “Everything has a price,” Philip replied. “Name yours and I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

Her heart did an odd little mixture of a flutter while also dropping in her chest when Philip led them away. It was almost impossible to be alone in a setting like this but he’d taken them to a small space where the air was a little lighter and quieter. Being alone with him, or as much as one could be, stirred something within her she hadn’t felt in months. Yet him leading them away in a formal fashion then drawing back their contact once there, they were both rigid etiquette. Making a stark difference to the times of him chasing her barefoot around trees as she squealed in full gleeful abandonment as he caught her by the ribbons of her dress.

They’d had wine together once. A bottle he’d brought to the woods that was shared from wooden cups and made them both a mess of giggles from how much sweeter their kisses tasted. Aurora mechanically took the fine glass stem and sipped it’s crimson wine, so sweet it finished bitterly on her tongue.

Was this their fate? No chance for new memories or moments to be laid out for them, only pains at the wisps of what had been tainting all they felt and saw? Doomed to be haunted by what they’d had? 

It hurt…

…so badly

Fingers toyed along the glass’s rim as she wondered on what she should say to her intended, and not what she wanted to say. What was appropriate to voice and what was acceptable conversation; not

“Have you been able to speak with his highness?” Nothing that could be voiced would truly ease the young man’s pain or make this situation any less somber than it truly was. Yet Philip’s friends were so dear to him, treasured possessions she knew him to be fiercely protective of after losing so many because of…- “I fear I do not know of any words to offer him.” Aurora admitted in soft breath of disquiet. She wanted to be good. She wanted to be helpful and thoughtful to those that mattered to Philip, yet instead she stood by in a mask of flowers, dress of silks and jewels, too timid to even speak to the new king.

“We’ve spoken,” Philip said plainly. He shifted his feet. He didn’t want to speak on the subject too much, for his friend’s sake and his own. It was a painful subject to remember, still a fresh wound and so many reminders at every turn. “Your condolences will be enough. He already has enough people apologizing for losses they don’t understand. Just...” Philip sighed and shook his head. He didn’t mean to sound angry. He wasn’t, well, maybe he was, but not at her. He’d never been angry at her. It was always everything else. He shrugged his shoulders and tried to soften his voice. “Just be yourself. You...” he looked at her, small and lovely and sweet, draped in fine silk and flowers in her hair. She suited wildflowers best, but she would have been beautiful in anything. “You’re perfect as you are.”

The music picked up, nothing too fast. A breezy waltz, something he had taught her to dance to in the woods, counting time himself instead of playing music. Aurora looked miserable here. He hated to see her upset, hated it even more than he hated the rules and expectations held over his head. He offered her a hand and tried to smile. “I think our fathers would have our necks if we didn’t dance at least once.”

“Here specifically?” she questioned with a slight laugh, “Oh no, getting on that boat was completely my choice. though, they offered me lunch so im not sure if that counts as bribery or not.” she smiled at the girl, giving her a shrug, “though, i didn’t come here,” she gestured to everything around her, “by choice. but im not exactly sure if i was forced. i just sort of…woke up hear.” she paused, realizing how bad her choice of words actually made it sound, “but it’s alright! I’ll be able to get back home soon, i think. hopefully.”

Ah, this was where Wendy could offer to help her. It seemed that this girl was so terribly lost that she wouldn’t be able to find her way back to where she came from, but Wendy could possibly help get her home if she knew the location. And even if her lessons in geography fell short, a quick trip to a bookstore with maps of the realm would surely do the trick. “Where is home for you exactly? Are you from an island?”

––Ariel had been taking a nice afternoon stroll before finding her curiosity piqued by the magic, or lack thereof displayed before her. she was no stranger to the sight, but her wide eyes did focus a little too fondly on the flower. as she watched, she was in favor of bringing life back its petals, however her heart sunk in disappointment as the failure remained. there was a tiny breath– a silent achey cry to emit from the sight as her chin fell. a pair of sad eyes peaked from the hair falling in her face.

Sage heard the girl’s defeated sigh. She was quiet. Sage was quiet herself, but it was rare for someone to be even more soft-spoken than her. She looked at the girl, at her expression of sorrow. It reflected Sage’s own. She tried to offer a smile, some symbol of hopeful reassurance but it fell on limp lips. “It’s sad,” Sage admitted softly, tenderly stroking the petals between her thumb and forefinger. “Terribly sad.”

her hopeful eyes were trained on the flower as the girl tried to bring it back to life, watching the colors reappear then vanish within seconds, leaving the plant dead once again. rapunzel knelt on the grass before the flower, though she was still getting used to her own magic she familiar enough to recognize when an object had been tainted with. with a gentle touch she held the stem between her fingers, able to feel the magic coursing through it. “it is, but-.” she was a little uncertain, but she believed she could fix it. after all her specialty is restoration thanks to a certain flower her mother had consumed while pregnant with rapunzel. healing was second nature to her now thanks to constantly doing it to gothel, it didn’t require much effort. “but maybe i can fix it.” she hummed quietly to herself and the plant glowed a bright yellow, when it faded the flower bloomed to its full potential once more. she let go of the stem and faced the girl beside her, “hopefully that should do it. there was magic lingering on it, like someone purposely cursed it, but why would someone want to stop a flower from growing? i know there’s villains wandering around, but imagine they have more ‘evil’ things to do than stop a flower from growing.”

The flower’s petals bloomed, vibrant and golden until the light faded and revealed the plant as it once was: healthy, alive, beautiful. Sage let out a sigh of relief. “Thank the gods,” she murmured, looking towards the young woman beside her. Gratitude swelled in her chest. To anyone else, it would have only been a flower, but to Sage, any creature, from a stag to a blade of grass, had a life of value. The flower had been a more personal matter, having sprung up from her own soil and one of the only remaining survivors of the fire that had devastated the woods. The damage towards the forest had been a blow Sage herself had experienced. It was as if something deep within her had also been clawed away, left hollow and smoking. Tears rushed to her eyes and Sage quickly covered her face, rubbing them away and staining her cheeks with soil. “I-I’m sorry, I’m just... thank you. I really thought it would die.”

john listened intently to his sister, a smile on his features the whole time. his sister seemed…happy was the right word for it, talking about this boy. it was a nice change of pace from how she normally sounded when they spoke of the many men their father had tried to set her up with. “he’s from an island? well wendy, that sounds rather exciting! he’s probably been all over the land then, if he’s found his way here all the way from Prydain.”

“Peter Pan, really? well, i guess I can’t say anything considering our last name but…” john trailed off as he listened to his sister talk, a frown finding its way onto his face at their current relationship status. he didn’t think his sister was incapable of making her own decisions–of course not, she was wendy, after all–but sneaking out in the middle of the night all the time to see a boy she wasn’t even dating just…didn’t sound right. “and why, pray tell, aren’t you together? no offense, but i’d dare say you’re a bit mad for him, aren’t you?”

“Yes... yes he has actually,” Wendy said, thinking of when Peter could fly. He truly could go anywhere then. He’d probably been to more places in an afternoon then she could reasonably hope to see in a lifetime, but that had been before. Things had changed since then, things neither of them could understand beyond the consequence: that Peter couldn’t fly and that he had begun to age.