#green hook

They stopped walking. “You seriously hadn’t noticed? Hang on.” She fished through her pockets for a moment before exclaiming “Here we go!” and producing a small mirror, which she then held up to his face.

To his shock, the hair at the side of his face, and streaks across the top, were indeed significantly lighter than the rest, and white was now peppered through his beard. It followed the same pattern it had when he’d first started going gray, all those years ago. He remembered teasing Alice that it was all her fault, and smirked at the memory; but something about this didn’t sit right. “That wasn’t there this morning.”

“Well, age has to catch up with all of us at some point. No use in complaining about it,” Zelena shrugged, and turn to continue on. But he saw a flash of something in her own fiery locks, and grabbed her arm to stop her.

She tried to protest, but he just reached to her scalp and plucked. Of course, that drew even more whining, but it abruptly stopped when she saw what was in his hand: a curly silver hair of her own. “Seems you’ve got a streak of gray yourself, love.” And he could see another one woven through her updo.

“Psh, it was bound to happen at some point. Come on.” She trudged ahead, but he was now on alert—something strange was going on in this tunnel. He didn’t say anything, but he watched as more silver worked its way through her hair the deeper into the tunnel they went.

Though the path was even, they both gradually slowed down, despite having not traveling long enough for fatigue to really set in. The air temperature hadn’t changed, but he eventually had to concede defeat as he wiped the sweat off his brow and worked to undo buttons on his vest in an attempt to cool himself off. He sighed in relief upon loosening the last closure; the brocade had been constricting and stifling, and the cool air on his skin through his thin top felt divine.

His exhale caught Zelena’s attention, who glanced back at him, and then began to smirk and bit her lip as if holding back a laugh.

“What is it?” he groaned, surprised at how gravelly his voice sounded, though he wasn’t particularly thirsty.

“I think I see why Emma wanted your other self to give up the rum,” she quipped.

He wanted to be offended, but a glance down showed that there was a bit of a paunch on his belly that was also a recent acquisition—or, rather, reacquisition. But it had taken years for his stomach to go soft the first time; why was it doing so at such a rapid rate now?

“Let me see your mirror again.” She held it up for him, and it was just as he suspected: the fine lines on his face had grown deeper, and his hair and beard were now full gray, though thankfully more well-kept than they had been before his recent transformation.

As he pondered his reflection, the hand holding the looking glass changed color, taking on what he thought looked like a deep green hue, but the damned lighting made it hard to tell. She seemed to notice at the same moment, only with a far more violent reaction: she screamed and dropped the mirror, shattering it.

“What the hell is this place?” she shouted at no one in particular. “Why am I turning green again?”

“And old,” he added, pointing up at her hair that was nearly as silver as his. She grabbed for her ponytail and released an equally horrified sound at the discovery. “Now, when you say ‘again’...” he started, hoping she would fill in the blanks.

“I used to be literally green with envy. It was only Glinda’s magic that removed it. Oh god, is it anywhere else?” She knelt to look at herself in the broken mirror shards, but he was hung up on that word: magic. They’d both had it used on them to change their physical appearance. He was fairly certain he knew what was going on now, but he had one more question.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you were also frozen under a curse for a lengthy period of time, yes?”

She stood up, albeit slowly. “Yeah, what of it?”

He nodded; it seemed to be as he suspected. “It appears to me that this cavern not only does not permit the use of magic, but...it erases it as well.”

She cocked her head to the side in confusion, giving him a glance at the green that was making its way up her neck. “So…”

“So my recent return to youth via a fairy’s wand is well on its way to reversal. And you, my dear, are finally looking the age you should be.”

She set her jaw and scowled at the news; he had to admit, he felt rather the same way. “I thought only magic had a price,” she complained. “Not no magic, too.”

“To be fair, we are still in search of magic,” he offered with a shrug.

“True,” she reluctantly agreed, crossing her arms and sulking.

“We may as well continue on; the damage is probably done.” It had been nice being a young man again, but he supposed he didn’t really need to be one anymore. He was still damn handsome, anyways.

Wordlessly, they set off once more. Killian’s belt eventually reached a point of tightness that told him the transformation was complete on his end, but he didn’t want to slow them down to loosen it—the general decay of their joints was doing a good enough job of that on its own. He did hazard a look over at his companion; the green now covered her skin, and though lines on her face made her look significantly older, she hadn’t lost her poise or glamor.

“You know...green and silver is an awfully fetching combination,” he observed out loud. She didn’t say anything in response, but he did see a small smile replace her frown, and the apples of her cheeks turned a darker green.

It wasn’t long before they reached the end of the tunnel, which opened into a wide room. The amulet they sought was prominently displayed in the middle, with a healthy supply of traps and tripwires around it. It took some time to navigate, given their less-than-spry bodies, but they successfully reached the center and claimed the tool.

As soon as Killian’s hand wrapped around the charm, it was as if the entire journey hadn’t happened: they were immediately back in the clearing, youthful glow intact, though still with the amulet in their possession.

Both quickly took stock of their forms and each other’s; his gut was gone and his hair felt smooth again, while Zelena’s bright red locks and fair skin tone had returned. It was almost as jarring as the first change.

“Bloody hell,” he breathed, unsure of what the hell had just happened, but at least it appeared to be over.

“Yeah,” Zelena agreed, hesitantly. “I guess that’s that.”

They stood silent for a few more moments, processing, before both seemed to shake themselves out of it. Their mission wasn’t done yet. With a wordless nod, they both headed off in the direction of the camp.

Knowing what he’d look and feel like some time in the future truthfully had been more of an annoyance to Killian than anything, given that it was his past as much as his future. But he could tell it was still nagging at Zelena in the way she worried her bottom lip.

“I wasn’t lying back there: verdigris or not, you’ll be a rather attractive older lady, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

She chuckled, but shook her head. “No, it’s not that; I had no worries there,” she said emphatically. “Just being reminded of my own mortality is all.”

“Ah, yes. Well, we’ve made it this far. No need to fear what lies ahead in that regard.”

“Very true,” she conceded. “And you’ll be quite the looker yourself, Captain.”

“Oh, I’m well aware. Now I believe you owe me a story about my other self and magic?”

She cackled in glee. “Oh, where do I begin?”