A/N: Take a deeeeeep breath. Smell that? THAT'S NEW CONTENT, BABY! Woooooooooo! It took a loooooooong time to get this ready (mostly because the plot and characters didn't wanna work together), but it's finally here! The highly requested, highly anticipated sequel of FTLOTD! Are you excited? I'm excited! Be excited! Wheeeee! Here we go!
Hacking, gasping, salty water gurgled from my mouth, spilling over my chin. I took heaving draws of the air, noticing how alien and wrong it was compared to Neverland's. There was something almost metallic about it, something not unlike the tar one of Mama's friend's had brought from their grand adventures. It was a sickly sweet, brain-stabbing smell rolling in on the sea breeze that stirred my damp locks. Shivering, wounded and shocked, I collapsed against the beach just out of the way of the tide, finding comfort in the familiar feel of sand on my back, against my arms, sifting in my grasp. Something about the world didn't sound right either, I noticed. The waves made their usual crashing, frothing noise, and the night air stirred, muttering, but I felt unnerved. I tried to pinpoint what exactly made the night seem incorrect. Was it that odd whizzing, whooshing sound? The strange, flickering buzz? The appalling lack of insects humming? The sound of boats bumping the dock was certainly normal, as was the rain splattering the ground! I cocked my head, sitting up in a tangle of legs and sediment and clothes and cape, my weapons clinking their protest as I frowned, turning to face what might well have been the most frightening, perplexing sight in all my life.
Light. Tons of it. Millions of torches burning high in glass jars on pillars, illuminating the street I could see through the thick mass of boxes and nets on the dock and beach, thousands of little pinpricks wrapped around trees, hanging on the awnings of what I assumed were seafront shops. Mobile light that didn't flicker and sputter and burn like a flame. Metal in such abundance, some odd, hard, semi-pliable thing that seemed to be everywhere, fabric in a dizzying array of colors, wood covered in thick color, large panes of glass all along the shops. Wetting my lips, I felt my brows pull together. This was definitely not my land. Wherever I was, it was strange and dangerous and confusing as hell.
Shakily standing, I dusted as much of the wet muck off as I could, knowing it wouldn't make much of a difference. Gripping the hilt of a sparring dagger Alexander had shoved through my weapons belt, I began to head hesitantly towards this new world. Where am I? I internally screamed, wide eyes catching new and frightening things with every step. My feet hit wood planking, and I halted, glancing down at the arsenal strapped to me. It wouldn't do to meet the villagers here looking ready to attack. If I wanted help I needed to be approachable, weak, even. Biting my lip, I scanned the shore for a good hiding place and ran for it. Alex would joke how I run so fast in sand. Fox would probably compliment me. Felix would say I need to stay where Peter said... Peter would say I better not fall... I angrily brushed at the tears threatening, pouring on a new dosage of speed, forcing all thoughts of the island from my head. This was not like running from the Boys. This was not another game. I was stranded, it was raining, and I was going to find my way back if it was the last thing I ever did.
Skittering to a stop, I caught the edge of the rock pile, scratching my palms on the sharp edges. I peered into the dark hollow I had seen from afar, feeling around experimentally. Graciously, it was dry and free of animals. Reaching for the tie at my throat, I sank my teeth into my lip, biting down hard to help myself ignore the stabbing pain blooming in my chest. Carefully wrapping the weapons belt inside the cloak (taking care to not rip the fabric any), I hid the bundle in the alcove, snatching some driftwood from nearby and seaweed to weave a lid of sorts, shoving it inside to cover the hole. It wouldn't do much, but it would at least deter an animal from using my prized cloak as bedding or a bathroom. Gnawing at the inside of my lip, I slid Mama's dagger into the sheath in my boot and another under the back waistband of my pants, praying my shirt was loose enough to conceal the blade. While straightening the sopping mess that was my top, my fingers brushed over a small bulge in my pocket: Alex's gift. Curious, I fished the item out, jogging to a pillar-lamp and holding the gift up to the light. It was a tan-silver ring with an exquisite, polished labradorite in the center. My face softened as I ran my finger over the branches and feathers carved sparingly into the thick band, watching the way even the dull light from the not-a-lantern set the milky waves of the oval gem. A small ink-splotch of black in the gem's pattern made the light blues, deep navies, and mellow turquoises stand out. Pressing a kiss to the stone, I slid the ring onto my right index finger, the same way Alexander wore his twisted band of dark silver. Lifting my head to the sky, I scanned the heavens for a star that didn't fit, for one that shone too bright, that was a touch too big. None stuck out, though I whispered my gratitude all the same.
Shivering in the deluge, I headed into the freakish town, clamping my arms tight around myself. A chill had taken over the air along with the weather, but a small voice in the back of my head said it wasn't cold like him. It wasn't his cold. It wasn't my rain, his storm clouds. It was a mundane, lifeless downpour, and it made me thirst for home even more. Clenching my jaw, I pinched my arm as I walked. Snap out of it. Wake up. Wake up in the hut. In the tree, in the woods, in Winter Woods, for all I care! Just stop this nightmare. Wake up.
I made my way towards what appeared to be the center of the town, noticing the smooth stone on the streets that you'd never find in a village. I must've been close to a castle for them to have such nice shops and this smooth black thing for roads. Blinking droplets from my eyes, I stared suspiciously at a pair of glowing orange lights steadily growing closer. Tilting my head in wonder, I inched closer, narrowing my gaze to see through the sheets of heavy rain. The strange, low-to-the-ground coach sans-horses didn't slow or stop, it continued to barrel towards me until it was roughly twenty feet away, and this godawful noise split the air. It was like a door creaking repeatedly, quickly, mingled with the scraping of nails on a board. Covering my ears, I bent sideways, peering at the monstrosity from under my arm. A loud blare pealed from within the beast as it skidded, the back end throwing itself side to side. The metal contraption ground to a halt inches from me, leaving me breathless. I stared through a thick pane of glass at a woman. Her lips were harlot red, her hair jet black, smooth, and shoulder-length. A scowl darkened her face, lighting a rage behind her dark brown eyes. It reminded me of the Queen, the same arrogant toss to their heads, the same withering sneer as they snarled at peasants. Mama had said to steer clear of such people, that they would hurt anyone they saw fit to complete their cause.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The woman snapped, storming to stand in front of me, slamming the door to what I assumed was her metal carriage. The black coat she wore was buckled at the waist, her shoes were a vivid red, and her skirt brushed her knees, hugging her thighs. I blushed, noticing that her shirt was also lower than would have been acceptable in my home. "This is a road. Cars go on it, people don't!" She gestured, mouth pursed. I noticed a scar on her upper lip. Had she been hurt as a child? Perhaps she fell while playing outside?
Taking a deep breath of the cold air, I blinked rapidly, dipping into a small curtsy. "I-I beg'n your pardon, miss. I'm lost. Could you help me, please?" My fingers laced together, twisting this way and that nervously. The woman's pout slowly smoothed into a smile, her eyes becoming warm but distant.
She pushed her hair back from her face with a twitch of her neck, hands slipping into her pockets. "Of course, dear. Pardon my rudeness, I was supposed to be home to see my son soon, and I feared I would be late. Where are you from?"
Swallowing the dry trepidation in my throat, I found a meek smile on my face. She wasn't so bad after all. "I'm not quite sure what you'd call it here, miss. King Henry ruled nearby, and King Leopold as well. To the south there was a large grassland, I believe, and we lived near a massive lake. It was a small village, but that's- that's not where I need to go." I shook my head, wetting my lips. At the mention of the kings her eyes went flat for a brief moment before regaining their gentle warmth and reservedness.
She gave another small curve of her lips. "And wherever shall you be going, dear? A small, pretty thing like you shouldn't be traveling alone. Where is your guard? Your soldiers? Family?" She cocked her head, dark eyes scanning me, noticing we were not dressed anywhere near similarly.
I hid a flinch, digging my nails into my palm to keep myself steady. "It's an island, miss. What family I have lives there, and I need to get back to them. I-I don't think you'd believe me if I told you the name, though. I doubt if you've even heard of it." I ducked my head slightly, tightening the embrace I was giving myself. Somehow, this woman's hair stayed dry, her eye makeup never running. Magic?
The stranger smiled kindly, head tilting the other way. "You'd be surprised. Go on, tell me." She waited patiently while I fidgeted, wishing the rain would stop. It was making memories surface much too strong, much too quick.
"Neverland."
Her eyebrows raised. "Neverland?" I nodded, daring to hope at the hint of disbelief and familiarity in her tone. She hummed softly. "Well, I suppose I could help. I'll need to know your name, child." She pointed out, guiding me to the other side of her metal beast, smoothing her expression.
"What's this thing?" I asked, pointing to the roof, not wanting to step into the monster's stomach.
She raised her chin slightly, eyes lighting with amusement. "It's a Benz." She grinned, slipping inside. I joined her, pulling the door shut for myself as she did. "It's like a carriage, but... not. It moves using an engine and the wheels. This one controls where it goes, the pedals say how fast, and the gear says if I'm parked or going straight or backwards." She faced forward, flicking a button that made large blades sweep the window. I pressed into the chair with wide eyes, marveling at this Benz. A Benz would've made life immensely easier in the village. "You can stay at my house, and I'll help you go home in the morning, how does that sound?"
I gave a nod of agreeance. "That would be lovely. Thank you very much, miss."
She waved away my worrying. "Not at all, dear. I'll get you some fresh clothes, some food, you can shower... But you haven't told me your name yet. I'm Regina Mills, the mayor of Storybrooke." She flashed another grin, watching me from the corner of her eye.
Biting my tongue, I shifted uncomfortably in the seat, staring at the glowing contraption set in the front of her carriage. Should I tell her my real name? What if she wasn't as good as she seemed? Feeling the words stab at my heart and throat, I gave her a small smile. "Violet." She arched a brow, sweeping me with her gaze once more as she pulled a stick protruding from between us.
"Just Violet?" She prompted, maneuvering the Benz with ease through the damp streets of the sleeping town.
"Just Violet." I confirmed with a nod, staring out the side window, regretting getting water all over the inside of her carriage.
She pulled into a drive leading up to a manor, 'parking' the Benz in front of it. I gaped up at the looming house, flabbergasted. Miss Mills exited the car, a strange fabric contraption with a metal skeleton opened above her to block the rain. "Well, Violet," She smirked in a way that made me hesitate in leaving the carriage, opening my door and holding the large water-deflector over us both. "Welcome to Storybrooke."
A/N: Mwuahahaha! Can you feel it? This is gonna be a good one. I'm literally bouncing in my seat, I'm so flippin' excited! Yay for Regina! Tear for Bree. Is she in good hands -or not?! You don't know yet. * More evil laughing * But, for real, I'm so pumped for this story. Many many people requested a sequel first, and here it is! Now, since this is fanfiction (duh, cause I only own my OCs), it is going to be a bit different from the actual show story line, plot, etc. Things are gonna be changed, so please don't kill me for it. This one is a bit short, but, after all, it is a prologue. A little toss to get the ball rollin', you could say. As always, please, please, please leave a review. They are the pixie dust of my writing, ie: they get the miracles working. Thank you for reading! Bluemoon, over and out~