Between Two Worlds
by Lady Dawson
Chapter One: A Warden in Storybrooke
8:15 a.m., May 13th, 2012.
That was the exact time when everything came undone. For the first time in twenty-eight years, she felt something rush through her—something ancient and old and powerful—and she halted in her movements to open her art studio that had been struggling ever since she abandoned her family's ambitions, choosing to go her own way.
In that moment, everything that she had known, everything that she had believed was washed away as though it had never been, memories of who she'd been mixing in with the person she thought she was.
Alexandra Griffin, the young woman who, instead of pursing the path her family pushed her towards since she was a child, all but shoving her towards law school, settled down in this small town, opening up an art studio to become an artist, was nothing more than the result of the damned curse Regina had cast.
And just like that, Sandrine Amell woke up.
Slowly, Sandry turned around, stepping away from the steps leading up to the studio with wide eyes, looking at her surroundings—really looking at them—for the first time in twenty-eight years.
By the Maker, twenty-eight years . . . she had been cursed for nearly three decades—
She gave herself a small shake; she couldn't think about that now. Later, she could worry about that. There were other worries at the moment.
All around her, she could see her neighbors waking up as though from a very long sleep—which, really, that's what it was, Sandry reasoned as she stepped onto the blacktop, scanning her neighbor's faces. She had passed by them every day, never once remembering who they really were. Their faces, so familiar and yet so different from the ones she had met when she had been traveling through the Enchanted Forest on that damned mission of hers.
If she hadn't gotten wind that there was a man who was well-versed in all magics and who might know of a way to—
Well, she might never have gotten caught up with the curse.
A scream broke through her thoughts and Sandry whipped her head around, in the direction of the scream, only to find the source of what they were screaming about: a purple cloud, spreading throughout the entire town, covering it in its mist.
Wishing she had her sword—or at the very least the staff that the First Enchanter had given to her—Sandry ran for the little boy that had screamed, shielding him from the mist, though she wasn't sure either of them could escape it. She had no idea what that mist was, but if it was deadly, there was no escaping it.
As the purple mist engulfed them, Sandry had no idea what to expect; she had been prepared for poisonous fumes or the mist to transport them back to their world—either scenario was logical—but instead, she felt something stir within her.
Something she had not felt in years . . .
Magic.
For the first time in twenty-eight years, she felt magic spread throughout her body, rising to the very tips of her fingers, craving to be let loose. The sensation was so unfamiliar, after not feeling it for so long, that she was momentarily stunned. She grasped the power, refusing to let it conquer her.
Only when she was certain that she had control did she slowly pull away from the boy that she had been shielding, who looked petrified as he looked around to where the mist had disappeared before looking to his rescuer with something of wonder. His hawk-like eyes seemed very familiar to Sandry for some reason.
"What was that?"
"Magic," Sandry breathed, still dazed by having her magic restored. She could feel it down to her very core now. "That was magic; it's here in Storybrooke." Her voice shook ever so slightly and the little boy—not quite little, she corrected herself, as he was nearly ten and had been for twenty-eight years, looked concerned.
"Are you all right?"
"I'll be fine," she reassured him. "I was a mage, back in our land; it's a little unnerving to have magic restored to you after being without it for so long, that's all."
He looked alarmed upon hearing that. "My mom's a mage," he said quickly, looking around as though expecting his mother to appear out of nowhere. "Do you think she's okay? I should go look for her," he added before Sandry could answer.
"That's a good idea," Sandry agreed. Despite the wake up, he seemed to be all right, but his mother had to be worrying about him. "Can you find your way back to her?"
The boy looked at her with serious eyes. "Nobody ever finds Mom," he told her seriously. "She finds you." He considered Sandry. "Are you going to be okay?"
"I'll be fine . . ." Sandry paused, searching for the boy's name. She didn't remember seeing him around before. "What's your name?"
"Blake Wilde," was his reply and he gave her a quick smile that reminded Sandry, forcibly, of an old friend of hers. Before she could think too long on this, however, he scampered off, leaving her where she was.
Sandry stared after him, an impossible idea forming in her head before she heard shouting coming from nearby and her head whipped around, towards the mob that had formed and was now running through the streets, led by Dr. Whale, making their way for the mayor's house.
The mayor, she remembered with a jolt, scrambling to her feet. Regina—the Evil Queen—was the one who had cursed them here to begin with. And she was the only one who had any answers.
Blue eyes narrowed, she picked up her pace, breaking into a run after the crowd, realizing exactly what they were planning on doing. If she was going to get answers, then she had to stop them. Besides, with magic here, those people could very well be walking right into a trap.
Despite the years, Sandry was still quick on her feet but with an angry mob, she only managed to get there just in time to see Dr. Whale with his hands around Regina's neck. She didn't look like she was having much like in stopping him either, Sandry thought in horror, making up her mind.
Summoning her magic and allowing it to flow through her, Sandry conjured a fireball—just a small one, enough that she could get their attention, and hurled it at the stone pillar outside of the house, sending debris to the ground, inches from Regina and Whale, who released the former in surprise.
Every single person turned towards Sandry—some in fear, some in surprise—and she walked right through the crowd as it parted for her until she reached Dr. Whale.
"That is enough," she said curtly. "Get the hell away from her."
"Not until Regina pays for what she's done," he spat at her, eyes narrowed. "You think a little magic show is going to make us stand down?"
Sandry didn't rise to the bait; instead, she just gave him a small smile, blue eyes fastened upon him, and he swallowed, unnerved.
"Do not test me, Doctor," she advised, not allowing even a silver of anger to lace through her tone. "I have faced a tower filled with abominations, the Deep Roads, and the archdemon itself. Do you honestly think that I fear you?"
Whale blinked, then demanded, "Who are you?"
She just looked back at him and replied in a tone filled of command, "My name is Sandrine Amell. I used to be the Warden-Commander of Ferelden." She could hear whispers growing from behind; her legend, it seemed, had carried even to the Enchanted Forest. "Some call me the Hero of Ferelden."
A sneer appeared on Whale's face. "Quite a title for one so young."
"Not many so young kill an archdemon," she replied without missing a beat, moving around to stand in front of Regina. Out of the corner of her mouth, she said, "Don't think for one minute I'm doing this for you."
Regina just glared at her. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, Warden."
"No one is going to kill Regina," she proclaimed. "Anyone who tries is going to have me to deal with." She glanced over her shoulder. "Enough blood has already been spilled on her account," she added coldly.
"We can't just let her get away with this!" someone shouted from the crowd.
"And we won't," Sandry agreed, "but—"
"But no matter what Regina has done, it does not justify this," a new voice broke out and everyone looked around to see the new arrivals as they pushed through the crowd, joining Sandry at the steps. Mary Margaret—no, Snow White, she thought with a shake—looked gratefully at her before turning to the crowd.
"We are not murderers here," Sheriff Swan said loudly, holding a young boy against her, as though to protect him from the angry mob.
"We're not from this world," Whale spat at her.
Swan didn't back down. "Yeah, well, you're in it now," was her reply while David—Prince Charming—pushed Whale against the pillar.
"Okay, Whale, we're done," he said sharply.
"Back off; you're not my prince."
Sandry laughed. "That's really not the issue here, is it?" she demanded. "Killing Regina isn't going to solve anything and it's not going to get any of us home."
"She's right," Snow agreed. "Regina needs to be locked up. For her safety, but more importantly, for ours."
The mob was far from satisfied but they didn't seem too inclined to argue with their prince and princess, not to mention a fire-throwing Warden so besides Whale, no one stopped them as they hauled Regina down to the station, locking her in the cells.
Sandry waited until the royal family had left before she stepped into the station, watching Regina as she tried to use magic to open the lock to no avail.
"Having trouble?" she said conversationally. Regina dropped her hand away from the cell door, looking coldly at her. "Don't feel so bad; magic is strange here. I noticed. Thankfully, I'm a quick study," she remarked.
"How nice for you," Regina replied coolly as she stepped away from the bars to sit down on the cot. "What do you want, Warden?"
"Answers," Sandry shot back.
"You already heard everything I told Charming," was her response. "I can't imagine how else I could help you."
Folding her arms over her chest, Sandry sat down in a chair across from the cell, just watching the Evil Queen, not removing her gaze from her for even a second. Regina made some aggravated noise before demanding, "So you're just going to sit there and stare at me until I tell you what you want to know?"
"Pretty much," Sandry agreed.
Regina scowled. "What do you want, Miss Griffin?"
"My name is Amell," she replied calmly, "Sandrine Amell, which you very well know, Your Majesty. So why don't we cut to the chase? What happened to Ferelden?"
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
Sandry scoffed. "Sure you don't. Here's the thing; I haven't seen anyone from my land here in Storybrooke. Not Queen Anora, not King William, not even the First Enchanter. So here's my theory: they didn't get swept up with the curse. Ferelden was safe from it. And that also means that the Enchanted Forest isn't as destroyed as you would have them believe." The glare that Regina sent her meant that Sandry was right on target. "How do I get back there?"
"You can't," Regina replied curtly. "All the portals back to our world have been destroyed, Warden. There's no going back."
The thought made her heart clench and she pushed herself up out of the chair, grabbing the bars. "No," she said fiercely. "I won't accept that. I didn't spend the last twenty-eight years cursed not to go back home. I didn't go on this damned mission for nothing. I don't accept that I will never see the love of my life again."
Regina looked startled, then a smirk played across her face. "That's right; I forgot. You're the bastard son of a king's whore."
Sandry let the insult brush off her; it wasn't the first time she'd been called that. If he were here, he would have had Regina at sword point. But Sandry let it go.
"Insults will get you nowhere, Your Majesty," she remarked as she pushed herself off the bars and walked away. "I'm going to find a way back, one way or another. There's more than one way to open a portal," she muttered as she left the police station, not noticing a tall figure slip in behind her.
With magic in Storybrooke, Sandry doubted it would take long before something happened; even back in Ferelden, people feared magic but would crave it for their own ends before anything else. And so she was hardly surprised that before the day's end, she sensed something crawling up out of the earth.
Not a darkspawn, she thought as she pounded down the streets, searching for the sign of the creature that had appeared in the dead of night. No, it wasn't darkspawn, but something just as dark . . .
A groan escaped from her as she surveyed the damage before scanning the skies, realizing exactly what it was.
"Maker," she complained as she raced through the streets, throwing out her senses, trying to pinpoint exactly where the creature was. "I hate Wraiths . . ."
Sandry spotted David and Snow running out of the pawnshop, followed by the Sheriff—their daughter, she thought as an afterthought. It was still hard to think of the adult Emma as the same child that she had helped Charming save that night at the palace, but she couldn't exactly deny all that happened today.
Before she could call out to them however, her gaze diverted to the pawnshop and she changed course, making her way into the shop, where two inhabitants were talking—well, more like arguing, she thought—but all talk stopped as soon as Sandry stepped inside, looking straight at the tall man.
"Warden-Commander," Mr. Gold greeted coolly while the young woman that he was talking with looked at her in surprise. There was a gleam of fascination in her eyes while he masked the irritation at the interruption. "If you're looking for the Charmings, I'm afraid you've just missed them."
"Yeah, I saw them leave," Sandry replied, walking right up to him. "Where is it?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Where . . . is . . . it?" Sandry said very slowly and very carefully. "Don't play dumb, Gold; I know that I've seen it in here many times and you know exactly what I'm talking about, so where is it?"
Gold looked even more irritated than he had originally but he moved around the cabinets, filtering through them before producing a long, slender box which he passed over to Sandry, who opened the clasps.
There, lying against the black leather, was her sword and sheath, the Warden's Companion that had stayed at her side all those years since the Blight. Lying next to it in its own sheath was the Enchanted Dagger that had been her first weapon, given to her by her lover—before he'd been her lover—in the Korcari Wilds all those years ago.
Picking them both up, Sandry looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "What's your price?" She'd heard enough about him to know that he didn't give things—even things that belonged to her—freely. There was always a price.
Behind her, she could hear the young woman inhale and exhale slowly, as though she were disappointed in him, but Mr. Gold, his gaze flying to her, said, "Consider it a token of my good will, Commander Amell."
Sandry raised an eyebrow at him before looking back at the young woman, understanding flooding through her.
"Thank you," she said as she made her way towards the door. Already, she could sense the Wrath coming even closer than it had been before. She glanced at the young woman briefly. "Don't judge him too harshly; sometimes even the darkest deeds have the brightest outcomes. I know that all too well," she sighed on her way out.
By the time she tracked the Wrath, it was already too late.
It had been after Regina the entire time—Gold had marked her, to extract vengeance over something she'd done—but by the time she got there, they had already sent the Wraith through a portal—surprise, surprise, Regina had been lying—and Emma, by accident, had been swept through and her mother had jumped in with her. Her father had tried as well but the portal closed and he smashed the hat that was the gateway.
Sandry sat in the window of her apartment, just staring out as the dawn broke out against the window. She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of it through the window pane. How many morning had she woken up like this, engulfed in his strong arms, wishing that she could stay there forever?
And now, here she was, trapped in another world and she would give anything to be able to get back to him.
"Alistair . . ." she whispered, her hand moving up to clutch the amulet that he gave to her, upon her Joining. Until she woke up, she hadn't known the significance of the amulet that she always wore. "Love, I don't know how or when, but I swear to you, I'm going to find my way back to you. Don't give up hope yet," she whispered.
But it had been twenty-eight years, she thought despairingly; for him, as well, it had been three decades. Was he even still alive?
Were any of her friends?
There was no telling what had happened in Ferelden since the curse had been enacted; whether they had been trapped in the same timeless existence she had been or time had kept going for them was unanswerable. She would only get those answers by jumping through a portal and getting back to her land.
Only problem was that the only known portal was destroyed now, she thought despairingly.
Brushing her blonde locks out of her eyes, Sandry turned towards the door as someone knocked on the other side. She debated whether or not to answer it but got up, setting down her mug on the table on her way to the door, opening it up.
And froze completely.
"Hello, my friend," the figure on the other side said, looking at her with eyes that were so different from the ones that she were used to, but there was no denying who the woman standing in front of her was. The familiar smirk was already in place as she looked down at the smaller woman, who was in a state of shock.
"Morrigan?"
AN: So I started a new story! Yay for me! This is my first Once Upon a Time fanfiction, so please be nice. Here's hoping that you enjoyed it. Please review! I'm addicted to them and inspire me to keep writing!
Lady Dawson