Breathe Again

A/N: This is my first foray into the wonderful world of Once Upon a Time—quite possibly my new favorite show on TV—and I REALLY hope I don't suck at it. lol I was inspired to write this by 1x10 "7:15 AM" and I'll also be incorporating some of 1x13 "What Happened to Frederick," so spoilers through those eps. This is basically a continuation/explanation of what happens to both Snow and Charming after Snow has the talk with him and leaves the castle with the dwarfs. Some events are a little different from what we see in the show (specifically bits of 1x13) but that's because I started writing this prior to 1x13.

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing OUaT related—although Prince Charming or the Huntsman/Graham would be the greatest present EVER!—the show and all characters therein belong to Edward Kitsis, Adam Horowitz and Disney. So I suppose I'll just have to settle for the DVD of S1 when it comes out. ;-}

Rating: Teen (violence, language, and dark/suggestive themes)

Special Thanks: KayleeThePete—her amazing OUaT fics are truly incredible and she was instrumental in my having the courage to post this. She also read the early drafts and gave me great advice! Huge amounts of thanks, dearie! :-)

Written While Under the Influence of: Sara Bareilles-Breathe Again, Breaking Benjamin-Dear Agony, Hurts-Illuminated, Roger Waters feat. Van Morrison & the Band-Comfortably Numb (Live Version), Ben Harper-Amen Omen, Ryan Star-Losing Your Memory, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club-Feel It Now, Andrew Belle-In My Veins, The Mary Onettes-Explosions, the YouTube vid "Come Back To Me" (Song: Linkin Park-Iridescent) by freedomnova, Hurts-Stay, and Oasis-Stop Crying Your Heart Out.

Chapter One: Breathe Again

"All I have, all I need

He's the air I would kill to breathe

Holds my love in his hands

But still I'm searching for something

Out of breath, I'm left hoping someday

I'll breathe again

I'll breathe again."

—Sara Bareilles, "Breathe Again"

So this is what it feels like to lose the person you love most, Snow White thought as she huddled, knees drawn up to her chest, on the bed the dwarfs had given her in their tiny cottage. There didn't seem to be tears enough in her to make the pain go away, not enough sobs to cry herself hollow and appease the ache in her chest. She'd once thought she knew how desolate loss could feel but that didn't even hold a candle to this. No wonder the Evil Queen wanted her dead; if it wouldn't completely ruin all she'd just sacrificed, Snow would cheerfully run a sword through King George for what he'd forced her to do.

But for the first time ever the raven-haired princess truly understood the supposed wretchedness that her stepmother claimed lurked in her heart. How could she be anything but wretched after what she'd done? The expression of utter devastation that'd been etched on James' face as she stood there and told him she didn't love him and never would haunted her every time she closed her eyes. But the king hadn't been the one to put that look on his handsome face, it'd been all her. Snow was the only one with the power to hurt him like that and she'd done it, albeit to save his life.

It would've been better had she just begged George to kill her, or at least less painful.

So instead of sleeping as Doc and Grumpy had insisted—both telling her things would be better in the morning—she'd sat up the entire night, green gaze fixated on the tiny bottle perched so close yet agonizingly out of reach on the bedside table. The bottle whose contents promised to erase the image of James from her mind forever and take with his memory all the emotions tearing her apart inside.

And would it be so bad not to love him anymore if she wouldn't even remember him? To never endure what hearing of Prince Charming's happy marriage would do to her? To not have to feel her heart be ripped out all over again at the inevitable news of a baby being born to inherit his father's throne? A baby with James' brilliant blue eyes that wouldn't be hers?

She choked on a sob as fresh tears streamed down her already raw cheeks. Snow used the sleeve of the white nightgown Grumpy had given her, a nightgown she had a sneaking suspicion once belonged to the woman he'd loved and lost, to wipe away her tears but new ones kept pouring out to take their place. The young princess buried her face in a pillow to quiet the cries wrenching through her, halfway hoping she'd accidentally smother herself and end her suffering.

No. She wasn't going to repay Grumpy's kindness by killing herself or wallowing in her sorrows, not after he'd risked his life and the lives of his remaining brothers to help her.

James was alive and she'd given him the chance to move on with his life, to have a future unlike any she ever could've possibly offered him as a disgraced princess constantly on the run. That should make her happy, knowing he'd have a life even if hers was all but over. She was going to pull herself together and find a way to keep living for the dwarfs' sake, if nothing else.

It seemed to take an eternity but Snow finally managed to will her breathing back to normal then scrubbed her face with her sleeves until it was dry, burning and itchy as all hell but dry. Careful not to wake her still sleeping hosts, she quietly tiptoed over to the basin on the table and washed her face, the cool water a balm to her overheated skin. She dried her face with a nearby towel, gaze once again drawn to the bottle that Rumplestiltskin had given her. Her fingers lingered over the phial as she replaced the towel on the table, the milky blue potion calling to her with a siren's song of oblivion.

But Snow forced herself to pull away. Grumpy had begged her not to drink it, to give time a chance to mend her broken heart first, and she wanted to do that for him. It was the least she could do to repay all he'd done for her after knowing her barely a day.

An explosion of color in the sky outside the window caught her attention and she stepped closer to see. The princess could just make out the sound of fireworks in the distance as a shower of blue and gold sparks cascaded down beyond the tree line, and her breath caught in her throat.

The fireworks were from the castle. And fireworks were only used during celebrations.

"Prince James is marrying Midas' daughter...in two days' time," Red's words echoed in her ears as she gasped for air, unable to breathe.

Two days was suddenly today.

That meant James was marrying her right now.

It was all Snow could do to keep standing at that moment, certain this was what it felt like to be struck dead. Coldness seeped across her skin as a single tear slipped down the pale skin of her cheek, lungs working furiously against the invisible hand that seemed to be squeezing the very life out of her chest.

She turned on her heel and in two frantic strides crossed the room to the bedside table. Trembling fingers closed around the bottle and removed the stopper as she brought it to her lips.

I'm sorry, Grumpy, but it's just too painful, she mentally apologized as the potion hit her tongue.

The last thought in her mind before Snow White stumbled back to the bed and numbing darkness overtook her vision was: I love you, James. I hope you find the happiness you deserve.

XXX

James stared straight ahead at the wall behind the priest's head as strains of the bridal march reached his ears, although to him it sounded more like a dirge—which was extremely fitting because today was the death of his freedom, his love, and what was left of the hope he'd managed to hold on to through this entire disaster. Snow had asked him to fill his heart with love for someone else but he couldn't, losing her had killed whatever capacity he had to love, let alone love someone like Abigail. The Ice Princess cared only about herself, jewelry, fancy clothes, and whoever could provide those things; her heart held no room for anyone or anything else. But if he couldn't have love, James could devote his life to service of the people.

As future king he would ensure that no one ever starved in his kingdom, and that no one would ever have to take such desperate measures as he did just to keep what was rightfully theirs. Maybe he could save someone else his fate.

But James was sure he would never be able to forget Snow White for as long as he lived. He'd just have to learn to live with the near constant visions of green apple colored eyes sparkling mischievously as lips red as blood called him "Prince Charming." Have to just endure the dreams where they were in the woods again and instead of letting her walk away from him as before, he pulled her close and tucked those wild ebony curls behind her ear then told her he had no intention of giving Abigail his mother's ring. The ring and his heart both already belonged to her.

Even after she'd destroyed any hope for a future together he couldn't bring himself to be angry with her, at least Snow had the decency to tell him how she felt to his face and wish him well. The letter she'd returned to him pressed down like a leaden weight where he'd stuffed it into the pocket over his heart, having been unable to burn it as had been his first instinct, but he carried it anyway as a silent act of defiance to his 'father.'

Blue eyes slid askance to where King George stood beside him, a beatific expression plastered on his face as they watched Midas lead Abigail down the aisle.

"Smile, son," George ordered in an undertone, smile slipping a fraction.

James didn't even bother attempting one, fairly certain he was physically incapable of it today.

The king's pale blue eyes narrowed into a now familiar glare but he couldn't exactly make a threat with so many witnesses present. James had to control the laugh bubbling up his throat at the sight of a man who held the fate of an entire kingdom in his hand being forced to hold his tongue in an argument with a former shepherd.

George stepped closer, placing a hand on James' shoulder as though imparting some last-minute fatherly wisdom, and whispered harshly, "Do not ruin things now, damn it! Not when we are so close."

"I'm standing at the altar, father. What more do you want?" the sandy-haired prince shot back coldly.

"I want you to forget all about your precious Snow White and focus on your future wife!"

James' head whipped around to King George, an absolutely glacial blue gaze boring into him. "How do you know her name?"

The elder royal's eyes momentarily widened in realization of his mistake but he quickly schooled his expression. "You told me about meeting her on a journey."

"I never told you her name. I would never have told you her name," the prince replied, tone low and dangerous as he shrugged off George's hand. "What did you do?"

"Son..."

"What did you do?!" James roared, voice resonating throughout the entire chapel and directing all eyes to him. "Did you threaten her? Tell her you'd kill her too if she didn't end things?" he demanded, so far beyond caring at this point what happened with the wedding or the charade they'd concocted.

George clamped a hand down on his pretend son's bicep and all but dragged him outside the chapel into the vestibule. "Do you want to cause a war right here and now?!"

"Tell me what you've done, father, or so help me I will walk out there and tell Midas every single detail of our arrangement," the prince ground out, barely contained rage vibrating in his voice as he went toe-to-toe with the king.

"I did what you couldn't do. I got rid of the thing standing between my kingdom and its salvation," George hissed, meeting the younger man's glare with one of his own.

James recoiled in disgust but part of him was relieved—this meant Snow hadn't said those things of her own volition that night; the king had forced her to. He couldn't believe how easily he'd bought into her story about coming all the way to the palace just to say goodbye to him—it would've been much easier, and not to mention far less dangerous, had she simply responded with a letter of her own telling him she didn't love him. But he'd been too distracted to think of that then, too busy reeling from having her tear his still beating heart from his chest and grind it into dust, metaphorically speaking.

His heart jumped as he remembered how her eyes had shone in the firelight, how she'd looked more afraid than repulsed when he'd tried to kiss her. At the time, he'd convinced himself that it'd been pity he'd seen flash across her features, but with what he now knew her actions that night took on a whole new meaning.

There was still hope for them after all. And he intended to learn the truth of her feelings for him sooner rather than later.

"Find someone else to save your kingdom. We're done," the prince said, reaching up and yanking the golden crown Midas had sent for him off his head and throwing it at the white-haired man's feet. He turned on his heel and started down the hall, focused on getting the hell out of this castle and finding Snow.

"You take one more step and I'll have that farm burning by nightfall with your dear mother still inside it."

James froze, a fury unlike anything he'd ever known before running through his entire body at the calm, cold threat of the man who'd raised his twin brother as his own son. The hand at his side itched for the sword sheathed on his hip, and although he wanted nothing more than to run it through the pathetic excuse for a human being behind him, he stopped himself. He was better than that.

Instead, the former shepherd abruptly wheeled around, balled his hand into a fist and rammed it right into King George's smug grin.

"If you so much as think about going near my mother or Snow White ever again," the prince began as he stalked toward George's shocked form on the ground—looking every bit a frightened old man as a hand nursed his bleeding lip—freeing his sword and pressing the blade to the king's throat, "I swear on everything holy, I will kill you."

The truth of his words frightened even him but all that mattered was that George believed him and, judging by how the older man's chin quivered against the point of the steel, he did.

"I am not your son. You're going to forget you ever knew me and find another way to save your kingdom, because the next time I see you…" James put enough pressure on the sword to cut into the thick velvet robe the king wore and only stopped when he heard a distinct yelp of pain, letting him know he'd broken skin. "Do you understand me?"

George nodded spastically but that wasn't enough.

"Say the words."

"I understand," the king gasped, eyes wide with terror.

James immediately set back off down the hallway, his rapid footfalls ominously loud in the space as he returned his sword to its scabbard. He forced himself not to run, certain that guards would descend upon him at any moment, as he made his way to his bedchamber.

The door had barely shut behind him before he was tearing at the heavy, golden brocade doublet and cape he wore, heedless of the sound of ripping fabric as he stripped out of the lavish wedding clothes Midas had provided and changed into the vastly more functional—not to mention comfortable—leather doublet and breeches that'd become his uniform as of late. He was rapidly stuffing provisions for his journey to find Snow White into a rucksack when he heard the chamber door behind him open and then close.

He spun, sword drawn, only to see Abigail standing in the exact same space that Snow had occupied a day earlier.

"What are you doing here?" James finally managed to ask once he forced the image of the beautiful dark-haired princess from his mind.

"I need to talk to you."

"Nothing to talk about," he bit out, lowering his sword as he yanked the ties on the bag shut then tossed it over his shoulder. "The wedding's off."

"I gathered. What with all the shouting," the blonde replied, a hint of what he could swear was amusement breaking across her usually bored expression.

"I'm sorry but..."

She raised a hand to halt his apology and stepped farther into the room, the pearlescent fabric of her wedding dress rustling with the movement. "Don't be sorry. I'm not. I only agreed to marry you because it was what my father wanted."

James was momentarily stunned at her confiding in him—seeing as they'd barely spoken to each other about anything other than the wedding itself since they'd met—but quickly shook it off and continued toward the door. "Good. Then I wish you the best, Princess, but now I have to go."

"Wait!" Abigail reached out and pulled him to a stop as he tried to move past her. "You can't leave now. If you do my father will hunt you down and kill you just to save face."

The same thought had crossed his mind many times before, and he'd planned for as much of the backlash his leaving would cause as possible—it was amazing the cooperation saving a knight's life from a dragon could garner—but he hadn't counted on making such a public scene when he escaped, or that he would also be searching for Snow. And the last thing James needed on top of everything else was an obscenely wealthy, pissed off king out for his head.

But the fact that it was Midas' own daughter of all people voicing these concerns had his eyes narrowing with suspicion as he turned to her and asked, "Why do you care what happens to me?"

She clearly wasn't expecting that question and avoided his gaze before answering, "Because I need you."

Sandy brows jumped high on his forehead but the princess was already speaking again, "No! No, not like that! I need a champion, and you're a champion. You slayed the dragon and defeated the Behemoth all without even getting a scratch. I need you to help me get back something I lost. Something precious."

James internally cursed the legacy he'd accepted from Rumplestiltskin as Abigail's hopeful baby blue irises focused on him. Every second he wasted standing here instead of going to Snow was pure torture but he couldn't just abandon the woman he'd promised to marry when she was begging him for help, his conscience would never allow it.

"Your father has a vast military, I'm sure you could find a worthy champion among them that would happily handle whatever task you set them," he tried again, but hadn't even finished the sentence before she was vehemently shaking her head, long glittering earrings slapping her neck with the movement.

"No, my father would never permit it."

Brow furrowing with frustration—and a bit of curiosity—the prince finally snapped, "What exactly is this task you need me for?"

"In the mountains half a day's ride north from here there is a lake called Nostos, the waters of which are said to cure any mortal ailment. But the lake is guarded by a fearsome creature that only the strongest of men can hope to face and live to tell the tale. Go to Lake Nostos and bring me water from it and in return I will see to it that my father will never come after you...or the woman you love."

James' expression darkened at those last words but there wasn't a trace of threat to be found in Abigail's features, in fact, her face betrayed nothing but sympathy.

"How do you..."

"You're not the only one who loves someone you can't be with," she interrupted in a whisper, eyes taking on a faraway look.

He couldn't help the surprise from showing on his face at her confession.

"I know how I seem. Spoiled, selfish, shallow…and I am those things. Or I was. But then I fell in love and for the first time I started to think about someone other than myself. And then I lost him." Tears formed in her eyes and she turned away, hands wiping at her cheeks only after her back was turned.

"His name was Frederick and he was one of my father's knights. His best actually. One day we were ambushed in the woods outside our kingdom and he pushed my father out of the way of the attack. But he'd gotten too close to my father's hand and..." She didn't need to continue, they both knew full well the effects of Midas' touch.

An awkward silence descended upon the room as James stared after the princess, as though only just now truly seeing her. No wonder Abigail was always so cold and withdrawn from him, she was being forced into a union she didn't want just as much as he was. It floored him that he, born a poor shepherd, actually had something in common with the Ice Princess of all people.

"So," the blonde began, clearing her throat to cover the tremor in her voice as she faced him, "do we have a deal?"

"Yes," he replied immediately, wanting to do something for the woman he'd completely misjudged. "But what are you going to tell Midas to keep him from coming after me?"

Her face broke into a victorious smile—the first genuine one he'd ever seen from her—as she said, "The truth, or at least a version of it. That you found out I loved someone else and called the wedding off all because of me. If I'm to blame my father will be too focused on me to even think about going after you. And don't worry, I can handle him. I've had him wrapped around my little finger since birth."Abigail grinned reassuringly, seeing the worried expression contorting his features.

"So, what do you know about this lake guardian?" James asked, resting his sword against his thigh.

Abigail couldn't help but smile at the eagerness she could see shining in his blue eyes, knowing beyond a doubt that she'd made the right choice of a champion.

"How much do you know about sirens?"

XXX

Armed with the information Abigail had collected about the siren, James had slipped undetected to the stables then led his favorite horse, a young black stallion, through the path the knight he'd saved from the dragon cleared of guards for him to escape the castle. He'd ridden as though hell itself was after him all the way to the snow-capped mountains bordering King George's kingdom.

He'd expected to get colder the higher up the mountain he went but James actually found himself removing his thick, fur-lined riding cloak and leather gloves with beads of sweat collecting on his forehead as he entered a clearing not far from the apex of the tallest peak. The moon shone high overhead as he slowed his horse to a trot, swiping a hand across his wet brow. The distant babble of water reached his ears and he urged the stallion onward.

Soon the lush forest parted entirely, revealing Lake Nostos. James dismounted his horse and tied the reins to a thick branch a safe distance from the water's edge—he didn't want to walk all the way back down the mountain if this guardian was as dangerous as Abigail had said.

The young prince carefully approached the lake, a leather water skin in one hand while the other lingered over the hilt of his sword. Rocks crunched underfoot as he dropped to a crouch at the bank and plunged the container beneath the unnaturally blue water. Moonlight glinted strangely across the gently lapping waves but he ignored it in favor of checking the clearing for any sign of the siren, but none appeared. The lake was disturbingly placid, the only ripples in the glassy surface coming from his own water skin.

A sigh abruptly echoed around him and James shot to his full height, flinging the water skin back onto the rocky bank as his other hand clamped down on his sword. He waited, body tense and gaze searching for the guardian, but nothing more happened. The only sound to be heard was the distant calls of birds taking flight from the nearby trees.

"Where are you?" he demanded, eyes blue as the lake itself scanning the clearing. "Make yourself known to me!"

When no response came, he yanked his sword free and shouted, "Beast! Show yourself." James' gaze flicked from one side of the lake to the other and back as he held the blade ready at his side.

Suddenly a section of water in the very center of the lake began to bubble and he slipped into a fighting posture—bending the knee of his back leg and letting his weight rest on it—and tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.

A beautiful woman in a flowing white dress with long blond hair adorned by a tiara of carved translucent crystal and woven silver emerged from the roiling water, hands held placidly at her sides.

"Here I am," she announced simply, a coy smile tipping her lips. "And what might your name be, handsome one?"

He watched warily as she sauntered barefoot across the lake toward him, her head quirked expectantly to the side. James barely managed to keep from answering her, his thoughts immediately going fuzzy at the sound of her silky voice. But he forced himself to focus, to remember what Abigail had told him. This was no ordinary woman standing before him. She wasn't technically even a woman.

"Would you like to know mine?" she continued, gaze leisurely roving up and down his body. "Because I can be anyone you want me to be."

"Stop," he commanded, bringing his sword up between them, the tip of the blade leveled at her throat. "I know what you are. You're a siren." She glanced down at his weapon as he spoke, eyeing it unconcernedly. "And your deceitful words are a spell meant to lure me to my death."

James could feel his resolve strengthening with the words, negating whatever glamour she'd begun to work on his mind. Get the water, kill the siren if he had to; he had only to finish this task and then he would be free. Free of the destiny others tried to impose upon him, free to be with Snow White. He kept the image of the woman he loved at the forefront of his thoughts to remind him of what it was he was fighting for.

The siren brushed his sword aside and stepped closer. "I would never hurt such a brave and powerful man like yourself," she replied, trailing a finger teasingly down his chest. "Not when there are so many other things we could do." Her tone was thick with implication—making it abundantly clear just what "other things" she had in mind—as she peered coquettishly at him from beneath lowered eyelashes, hand wandering to his stomach and beyond.

"I said stop!" James shouted, his free hand shooting out and catching her wrist, halting her hand's descent. "I will not fall prey to your deceptions," he vowed, meeting her sharp glare head on.

She grinned at him as though taking his words as a challenge and yanked her hand away, stepping backward. "Really? You're immune to me?" she asked incredulously.

The siren knelt down and cupped her hands in the lake then stood, arms raised high overhead as she let the water rain down onto her. Blond hair bled to ebony, bronze skin lightened to perfect porcelain before his eyes. All breath was stolen from his lungs when she lifted her head, revealing the face he'd recognize anywhere: Snow White.

Her eyes slowly opened, familiar green irises sparkling as her lips curved into a smile he knew all-too-well—it'd haunted his dreams and waking mind nonstop for a month now.

"Like me more now, Charming?"

His heart lurched at the nickname—only he and Snow knew about that, how could the siren?

"No…" James gasped desperately, head slowly shaking in disbelief. "You're not really her."

An expression of confusion washed over her face, head canting to the side as she watched him.

"It's an illusion. I know it's not real." But it sure as hell looked and sounded real, he couldn't help thinking.

"Sometimes illusions are better than truth," the faux-Snow began as she approached, hands held out to her sides. She only stopped once she could rest her palms on his chest, gazing up into his face with an expression of unmistakable longing. "Everything you want, that you can't have…I can give it to you." Her voice dropped to a seductive whisper as she circled him, hands dancing across the open collar of his shirt—fingers teasing the bare skin of his chest—then roving along his shoulders and up to stroke his hair.

He let out a ragged breath, eyes sliding closed at her touch, half enjoying the sensation of her hands on him so intimately, half praying for the strength to resist her.

"All you have to do..." she continued, moving to his other side, fingers tangling into the short strands at his nape. She came around to face him, heavy-lidded blue eyes finding cool green ones. "Is kiss me," her words were little more than a puff of air against his chin as she entwined her hands around his neck and leaned into him, bringing their lips into alignment.

He stared down into those entrancing emerald eyes, unable to tear his gaze away.

"I know you want to, I can feel it."

"No," James argued, resistance rapidly crumbling. He could no longer remember exactly why he shouldn't kiss her. Everything in him screamed for him to do just that, to finally know how those crimson lips of hers would taste.

She closed the remaining distance between them instead, soft lips seeking out his. The instant their mouths met he was lost, breathing her in as he kissed her back. The kiss deepened and he barely noticed his grasp on his sword slackening, too focused on the feel of her tongue brushing against his own to care as the hilt slipped completely through his fingers; the splash of it dropping into the lake drowned out by the tiny moan that escaped her lips. His arms wrapped around her of their own volition, hands settling at the small of her back.

Snow broke the kiss, a victorious grin splitting her lips as James leaned forward trying to bring their mouths back together. Her hands slid down his chest to take his hand as she led him across the water, smiling encouragingly as he blindly followed her.

They'd gone just a few steps when he blinked and the haze that'd invaded his mind the moment she looked at him with Snow's face seemed to lift. This wasn't Snow, this was the siren pretending to be her.

"No," he repeated again and abruptly stopped walking, the smile slipping off the faux-Snow's face as she stopped as well. "I don't want an illusion," James continued, conviction strong in his voice. "I want reality or nothing."

"And this doesn't feel real?" she asked, brow furrowing with hurt as she grasped his shoulders and drew him into another kiss, hand cupping the back of his neck to urge him closer. He was distantly aware of her shifting their positions so that she stood between him and the shore but was more concerned with the soft press of her curves against his body, his hand sliding up her back to hold her as close as possible.

When she retreated from the kiss, her eyes slowly opened, stare questioning as she looked up at him.

"Snow…" James whispered, awestruck that the woman he loved could ever possibly wonder at the power she held over him. He would die for her, kill for her, anything that she wanted; all she need do was ask.

She must've heard the submission in his tone because a wide grin broke over her face as she sighed with relief, "That's right. It's me." Her lips sought out his again, pulling away only to whisper against his mouth, "I love you."

The words he'd been dying to hear her say for too long now sent him into a frenzy, a harsh breath escaping as he reclaimed her lips in an open-mouthed kiss. But something just didn't feel right, confusion breaking across his face as his eyes snapped open.

"I don't. Love you. I don't. I'm sorry."

Snow's flat rejection of him just days before crashed over him like a bucket of ice water, clearing his mind instantly. How fitting that the words that'd been killing him since that day would now save his life.

She wasn't Snow.

This wasn't love.

She was a siren and intended to seduce him only as a means to kill him.

James wrenched his mouth from hers and held her at arm's length. "No, it's not you."

"Yes, it is. I love you," she entreated desperately, wide green eyes staring up at him. Her hands tightened around his collar, using her hold to shake him.

"No. This is not real love. I've felt it. And this isn't it." He shoved her away in disgust, watching the wide-eyed pseudo-innocence give way to a glare. "I know the difference," James declared fiercely, blue eyes clear and completely free of the siren's thrall.

A grin twisted her lips as she stared up at him and said, "Congratulations, Prince Charming. You're the first."

She then launched herself at him, deceptively delicate hands clamping down on his chest and dragging him beneath the lake's surface. She pulled him deeper, straight to the rock-strewn bottom. Something glinted in the shafts of moonlight filtering through the water and he nearly choked as realization dawned. Among the rocks littering the lake floor were skeletons as far as the eye could see, tarnished silver and bronze armor catching the weak light and winking at him ominously—a warning of the price of the lake's magic.

Water flooded his mouth but he managed to yank himself free of the siren's grasp and swim for the surface.

Halfway there, a long frond of seaweed ensnared his ankle and hauled him back down. James tore at the thick plant, fingers slipping ineffectually off the slimy surface. His head pounded as the last bits of oxygen in his lungs bubbled out of his mouth, the siren closing in to finish him off.

Vision darkening, he'd almost resigned himself to his fate—saying a wordless apology to his mother, to Abigail, but most of all to Snow, for failing them—when the flash of something metal half-buried in the pebbles at his feet caught his eye. The siren was almost to him now but he still reached for it, her hands curling into his doublet and yanking him to her just as his own closed around the cold hilt of the dagger.

She pressed her mouth to his and forced his lips open, syphoning off what little air he had left.

The prince sucked in a breath from her mouth and plunged the blade into her stomach, feeling her stiffen against him. James yanked the dagger free as she sunk to the floor, dark red blood pouring from the wound and staining the water around them. He couldn't help but linger over her, watching those green eyes—the eyes of the woman he loved—dull and fade, a brief pang flowing through him at the sight of her like that until her body began to shimmer, hair turning pale as the siren returned to her true form.

James cut through the weed knotted around his ankle and shot to the surface, lungs screaming for oxygen.

XXX

Abigail already waited in the section of forest surrounding Midas' kingdom where she'd told him to meet her when James arrived, torchlight glinting off the golden armor of a knight he could only assume to be Frederick. She turned at the sound of his approach, a wild hope forming in her eyes at the sight of him arriving not only alive, but not empty handed. Her relieved laughter echoed through the trees as he dismounted his horse and joined her before the shrine to the fallen knight.

"Water from Lake Nostos, as requested," he announced, grinning as he presented her with the water skin.

She hesitated only a moment before accepting it, as though worried her miracle would disappear in a puff of smoke at her touch. "Remarkable! But how did you manage to slay the beast?" the blond princess questioned, gazing up at him in wonder.

"Well, the fate of your true love was at stake. I knew it was a battle I couldn't afford to lose," James answered, choosing not to mention aloud that it was his love for Snow that'd gotten him through the task alive, just in case the rumors about the water's healing abilities were exaggerated. Plastering a reassuring smile on his face, he motioned for her to give the cure a try.

Barely breathing, Abigail stepped onto the wooden shrine she'd had erected to her lost love after her father had given up hope of his faithful knight ever being revived, and uncapped the water skin. She poured the water down onto the crown of his head, his face forever hidden from her by his helmet, pulse pounding as she waited for a change, any change. Her heart sank as she neared the bottom of the container with still no discernible transformation taking place.

True love's kiss hadn't saved her Frederick, so why would this be any different?

But just as she was certain she'd sent James on a fool's errand, the surface of Frederick's helmet began to shimmer. Soon his entire suit of armor followed, the gold running down his body in rivulets, revealing ordinary gleaming metal. He collapsed to his knees once he was finally freed from his golden prison, frozen joints too weak to hold him upright any longer.

Abigail dropped down beside him, lifting his head and removing the helmet, desperate to see his face after so many years without it. She couldn't help the raw cry that escaped her when his eyes met hers, focused and alive. The princess immediately pressed a kiss to his lips, needing to feel him against her skin to reassure herself this wasn't just a dream.

Frederick returned her kiss, mouth warm and soft beneath hers. No longer cold, hard and sharp-edged. Real.

James had done it! He'd returned her true love to her!

"Abigail?" Frederick asked once she'd finally broken the kiss. "What happened to me?" His eyes were confused, as though he hadn't been aware of all the time that'd passed since he'd been taken from her.

"You were trapped. But now you're free!" She almost shouted the words, overjoyed that they were finally reunited, before kissing him again. The princess didn't think she would ever be able to stop kissing him, although the smile that spread across his lips when she pulled away told her Frederick would have absolutely no problem with that.

He looked up, eyes focusing on something over her shoulder, and Abigail turned, remembering that James was still there, gaze respectfully averted from the couple.

"This is James," she explained, rising to her feet, her hand never leaving Frederick's as he stood as well. "He's the one who freed you."

Her knight stepped forward, extending his other hand to the older prince. "I am forever indebted to you."

"Well pay me back by walking down the aisle with someone you truly belong with," James' eyes cut to Abigail as they shook hands, a knowing grin on his face, "and perhaps," he continued, nodding to where his black stallion panted, "giving me a fresh horse and supplies for a journey as well."

"Done," Frederick agreed immediately, all-too-happy to oblige any request the man who'd returned him to the woman he loved could possibly make.

"Thank you," Abigail breathed, gratitude fervent in her voice as she clasped James' hand in both her own, "so much."

At that moment, the sound of horses and men wearing armor filled the woods; gold-clad knights rushed toward the trio with swords drawn.

"Abigail?" Midas' voice rang out over the din. "What are you doing out here in the middle of the…" he trailed off at the sight of his daughter standing at the shrine where he'd found her countless times before, but for the first time ever she wasn't alone. Prince James and Frederick stood beside her, the latter not covered in gold as he had been since the day he'd sacrificed his life for his king.

"Frederick? Is that—? You're alive?! How—how is that possible?" the usually composed king stammered as he all but fell off his horse in his haste to see for himself if his prized knight were truly back among the living.

"Your Highness," the man in question began, dipping his head respectfully, "I am not sure how or even why, but yes, I am alive. Thanks to this man, James," Frederick finished, clapping a hand on the prince's shoulder.

Midas stumbled onto the shrine, reaching out with his non-cursed hand to touch the knight and confirm what his eyes told him. Beneath the armor Frederick wore flesh and bone moved. His champion and his daughter's one-time fiancé lived and breathed. The king turned his gaze to his daughter, watching unbridled joy radiate from her face; if he'd had any further questions about the truth of the situation the expression on Abigail's face would've answered them all.

She hadn't smiled, especially not like that, since the moment Frederick had been lost to her.

His daughter's smile was infectious, spreading to Midas' face as well as he turned to the prince. "James, not only did you free my beloved Abigail from our marriage contract without reprisal but you rescued Frederick, my greatest knight and the love of my daughter's life. How could I possibly begin to thank you for all you have done?"

"I only wished for Abigail to marry the one she loves so that I may be free to do the same, Majesty."

"Indeed you shall. But a prince of such strength, kindness and honor is too valuable an ally to waste. If our kingdoms cannot be united by marriage, then perhaps they can both benefit from a friendship," Midas said, and before James could protest—as he had no desire to continue the charade of being prince, only to find Snow White and spend the rest of their lives together away from King George and her stepmother, the Queen—he'd stepped forward and grabbed James' hand. "From this day forward, I pledge my kingdom's allegiance to yours, Prince James. In times of war, we will fight with you. In times of hunger, we will send food. In every way possible, my kingdom will return to you the kindness you have bestowed upon my daughter and my champion."

James was speechless, mouth opening and closing like a dying fish as he racked his brain for the right words to escape this newest entanglement. But looking at all the grateful smiling faces around him, Frederick embracing Abigail and nodding at him over her head, he found that all he could do was nod as well.

"Thank you, King Midas. I would be honored to ally myself with your resourceful daughter and her brave knight." He forced a tight smile, fighting to keep his true sentiments from showing on his face.

"Well then! It is settled!" the king exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "Come, daughter, we have a long overdue wedding to plan."

Abigail and Frederick stepped down off the shrine, following her father but the princess paused once she reached James. "You're off to find Snow White now, aren't you?" She grinned when he nodded, tightening her grip on Frederick's arm. "How will you know where to find her?"

"Well, a bird helped me track her down once. Hopefully it can again."

"Well, then good luck."

James flashed her a genuine smile and nodded goodbye to both Abigail and Frederick, the couple still inseparable.

XXX

With a few words from Frederick, James had been provided a fresh horse as well as food and water for three days. He returned to King George's realm only to obtain the pigeon he'd sent with the letter to Snow to follow its path to her. The bird lead him to a clearing hidden deep in the forest where only a small, rough-hewn cabin stood.

"Snow! Snow White!" the prince shouted, drawing his grey and white stallion to a stop and swinging himself down out of the saddle. There was no sign of her at his call, but he still ran toward the house, crying out her name at the top of his lungs, "Snow! Are you there?"

"She's gone," a voice abruptly answered behind him and James spun, hopeful blue eyes landing on a red-clad brunette carrying a basket of food with her into the clearing. "She never came back after she went to find you."

His gaze dropped, mind racing. Where could Snow possibly have gone? Was she in danger? Did King George do something to her after she left the castle? No, he wouldn't have hurt her. He had no reason to after forcing her to tell James she didn't love him. Snow must've left on her own. She was safe. She had to be safe. Fear churned in his stomach, nearly crippling him. If anything happened to Snow...he didn't think he could live with himself.

When James had finally managed to somewhat calm his raging heartbeat and look up at the young woman in the red hooded cloak, he found her staring at him, a worried but expectant expression on her face.

"Then I'll find her," he vowed, blue eyes resolute. "I will always find her."

A warm smile curled the brunette's lips as she watched him run back to his horse, haul himself up into the saddle and race off.

"Go and get her, Prince Charming," Red murmured to the wind, wanting nothing more than for her friend to find the same happiness that Snow had helped her attain with Peter. And if the determination she'd seen flash in James' blue eyes was any indication, the ultimate form of happiness—true love—was rapidly on its way to finding Snow.

XXX

Snow White had been staring at a tear in the curtains separating her bedchamber from the seven dwarfs'—her mind not truly even in the room—almost the entire morning when a commotion in the front room drew her attention back to Earth.

"Where's Snow? Where is she?" Grumpy's voice demanded urgently moments after the front door slammed. A second later the usually sullen dwarf came bounding through the cottage, calling her name with an uncharacteristic amount of joy in his tone, "Snow! Snow! The royal wedding, the kingdom's abuzz, it's off, Snow! He left her! James left Abigail!" He came to a stop at her bedside, gesturing wildly.

She just blinked at him, the words not seeming to register.

"Did you hear me? Your Prince Charming's not getting married." Grumpy nodded at her meaningfully, the first smile she'd ever seen him give spreading across his face.

"Who?" Snow asked, an oblivious grin tipping her lips at his excitement.

The smile literally fell off Grumpy's face as he took in the blank, anesthetized look in the young woman's usually vibrant green eyes. His gaze slid over to the bottle on the nightstand that'd been full of a milky blue substance last he'd seen it; the phial now indisputably empty and turned on its side.

Oh, dear gods, no, the dwarf thought, stomach turning leaden.

This was all his fault. He never should've left her alone to go into the village for any news about the prince's wedding. No one knew better than Grumpy how a broken heart tore a person up inside and he'd just left her there with that damned potion sitting right beside her bed. He'd promised to protect her and he'd failed on the most basic level: he hadn't protected Snow from herself. He might as well have poured the potion down her throat himself.

Grumpy might not have wanted to be rid of his pain, but his wasn't anything new. The dwarf's heart was just as broken as the princess', but he'd learned to live with the ever-present ache. Snow's heart was freshly shattered and bleeding, every heartbeat driving the shards that much deeper.

Of course she'd jumped at the first opportunity to make that torment stop.

"Grumpy? Is something wrong?" Snow interrupted his thoughts, concern bisecting her brow at the abrupt shift in his mood.

"N-Nothing," he managed to croak out, clearing his throat before he continued wearily, "Nothing you need to worry about now, Snow."

The dwarf turned on his heel and left her bedchamber, unable to stomach the artificial bliss on her face a second longer.

Maybe this was a blessing in disguise, he tried to convince himself as he stormed out of the cottage, grabbing his ax along the way to take out his frustration on a nearby rotted tree. At least she wasn't in pain anymore. The tortured sound of her sobs the night before echoed in his memory as he swung the ax, strengthening his argument. But then he remembered the news he'd just delivered to Snow.

James had left Abigail.

And unless Grumpy was very much mistaken about how the prince felt about the young woman back in the cottage, the dwarf needed only one guess as to where James would be headed next and what he was looking for.

Or rather, who.

A/N: Well, that's all for now! Hope you enjoyed my first attempt at OUaT! I'm planning to carry this story through Snow and James' reunion and beyond—although it's unlikely I'll follow the show continuity exactly. 1x10 was the real impetus to me writing this and it spawned an entirely different take on what might happen to Snow and James with the potion and his leaving Abigail and of course how the Queen will react to finding out that Snow has fallen in love. So pretty much everything up to and including 1x10 is the canon I'm going off of with bits of other eps sprinkled in where appropriate.

However, I do have a question: Would you like to see me follow 1x16 as to Snow's actions after taking the potion? I was very surprised and intrigued to hear the spoilers about that ep and although that wasn't at all what I was thinking about doing with her here, it wouldn't be difficult to incorporate that at all. So please, lovely readers, put your two cents in, should Snow go all Kill Bill here, yay or nay?

Well if you liked this insane little alternate version of events, there's just one way to let me know and ask for more: REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW! lol Reviews are food for the writer, so please "feed me, Seymour!" ;-}

Thanks for reading!

Sassy18