A DAY IN THE LIFE
Chapter 1: Dawn's Light
Dawn rose sleepily over the tiny seaport town of Storybrooke, Maine. A gentle, lavender haze, the result of condensation from the ocean waters, rested over the waking town, extending gauzy tendrils through the streets and alley ways, over the slopes and valleys residing within the fixed boundaries of the township. The town's inhabitants were waking to the day, and the few businesses that catered to the early risers were opening their blinds and doors, ready to greet bleary-eyed customers with food, caffeine and the daily edition of The Mirror. Seagulls and forest songbirds greeted the day with sharp caws and crisp whistles, eager to begin searching for breakfast, and the ceaseless, salty waves slapped at the docks of the Storybrooke Port. It was another typical morning.
A few boat crews were congregating on the docks. Several fishing vessels, essential to Storybrooke's economy, prepared their rigging and nets for the day, checked their fuel and supplies and made ready to put out to sea. The camaraderie among them was evident as they worked together, each one going over their own checklist while slugging down hot coffee and discussing the local politics. In a town held encapsulated in the thralldom of a curse, they prided themselves on being able to survive isolation from two realms, to provide for themselves. The local cannery provided both a livelihood and sustenance in the closed community.
Some quieted as they looked up to scrutinize the lanky old man heading determinately toward a rather sturdy, if unkempt, boat nestled among the greater vessels moored to the docks. Marco, as vigorous as any man half his age, led his energetic son across the salt-crusted peer and onto the small boat he had borrowed from his friend, Leroy. The boy, August, a compact lad of 11 years with reddish hair, had obviously been on the boat more than a few times, and he eagerly stowed a cooler filled with soda and sandwiches on the deck. Always hungry, he grabbed a sandwich from the cooler and began munching as he checked the tackle for the fishing excursion they had planned for the day.
The rising sun reflected on the surface of the water surrounding them, causing sparks of light to dance in a blinding display. August squinted his eyes, placing his hand in front of his scrunched up face to peer out over the dancing light and sighed. How he longed to take the old boat out and sail far from the little hamlet he had grown up in. He loved being with his papa, but he was a gregarious boy by nature and dreamed of adventure. He would love to sail far away from this place, to see the world he knew only from books and television, but the barrier that had been placed over the cursed town extended over the waters for just a few miles, preventing anyone from escaping. They were all trapped here, and life had settled into a stalemate.
Without warning, a thunderous clap sounded just a few hundred yards from the tiny boat's position. A great whirlpool began to whip at the fog, drawing it away from the shoreline in gusts, and then sucking it into a swirling purple vortex spinning in the sparkling water to the east. The clangorous noise drowned out the sudden cries of gulls rushing away from it, a cacophony of warning bells rang in the wind whipping around the tiny port. The men on the dock erupted into action, scrambling out of their boats, shouting and taking to the dock to watch the tempest. Just as the boy began to wonder what the phenomenon might be, an old-world wooden ship in full sail was spat out of the spinning portal and the vortex closed as suddenly as it had opened. In the wake of choppy water and clearing fog was an old pirate ship sailing straight toward the port, on its bow the name Jolly Roger proudly displayed.
"August," his father called. The boy, breathless and wide-eyed, kept his eyes trained on the approaching apparition as he sang out, "yes, Papa?"
"Come, boy, out of the boat." Marco and August quickly disembarked and joined a score of others on the dock, waiting to investigate and meet the old pirate ship that had abandoned their shores so long ago to sail to Neverland, carrying with it the Royal family to rescue the young prince, Henry. The initial shouting and confusion associated with the unexpected phenomenon had settled into a quiet and uneasy anticipation as each person on the port deck contemplated the occupants of the Jolly Roger, speculating as to who had made the return trip. More than a few observers pulled out cell phones, notifying others in the waking town of the unexpected intrusion. Tension was thick among them as they watched the ship approaching, lowering its sails as it neared them and made ready to dock with the other vessels. Within minutes, the ship had pulled into a birth and two of the men on board cast ropes down to the waiting hands of some of the fishermen below. Once anchored to the moorings of the deck, a small stairway was lowered and a dark-haired man, the pirate captain known as Hook, disembarked onto the landing, followed by a tall, sandy-haired man with a small scar on his chin.
The tall man, the prince known as David Nolan, took in his surroundings for a moment before turning to old Marco standing on the outer edge of the gathered seamen and growing numbers of curious citizens pouring in from the small town. Looking around at the crowd, he smiled in recognition and bounded forward, greeting the old man, "Marco, it's great to see you!"
Marco stood stock still for a moment, astounded by the appearance of the ship and his old friends. His face lighting with a smile, he stepped forward, ignoring the prince's proffered hand and embraced him enthusiastically. "Welcome home, my prince!"
David returned the hug, then pulled away and devoted his attention to the rest of the passengers as they disembarked from the old vessel. A boy about August's age deftly clipped down the steps, eager to stand on solid ground once more. He was followed by a beautiful woman with short, black hair who enthusiastically greeted Marco and others in the growing crowd on onlookers. Awed, August realized she was Snow White whom his father had spoken of so often. A tall, blonde woman wearing a leather jacket and jeans followed her. Emma Swan, the curse-breaker and savior. Emma smiled at the old man, and then looked at August. Her smile dropped and her eyes narrowed as she if she tried to make sense of the alteration of facts she thought she knew. Before she had time to process anything, however, the rest of the passengers disembarked onto the dock, drawing tense murmurs from the people assembled on the dock.
The Evil Queen. Rumpelstiltskin.
The queen, Regina, was beautiful, with dark hair and porcelain skin, her mouth red and her dark eyes framed by darker lashes. Beside her stood a slight man with graying hair, clad in a dark suit and holding a fine, gold-handled cane. He stood quietly, but his eyes, void of any warmth, seemed to take inventory of the people before him, searching the crowd for some familiar face. The sorcerer was calm, still, poised like a snake ready to strike with any provocation. As he surveyed the fishermen and dockworkers, his eyes came to rest on August. He cocked his head slightly left as he tried to recollect the age and appearance of the boy the last time he had seen him. Something was amiss here.
"RUMPELSTILTSKIN!"
A woman's shrill cry sounded from the back of the crowd, which began to part as she shoved her way through. Pushing past those surrounding the little party of newcomers was Belle, the town librarian. She was a petite woman with large blue eyes and chestnut curls, her beauty rivaling that of the queens standing on the docks. Breaking through the human barrier, she hesitated a moment, panting, her face flushed with excitement as she cast her azure eyes toward the most powerful sorcerer in all of the realms, the look of love and hope and want and joy etched upon her lovely features.
"Rumpelstiltskin!" she whispered, and then ran the few steps between them, flinging herself into his arms. Dropping his cane, he pulled her fully into his embrace. She eagerly sought his mouth in greeting, her salty tears mingling with the sweetness of her breath as she kissed him. Rumpel returned her kisses enthusiastically, shuddering slightly as he accepted her greeting, acknowledging he had missed her as achingly as she had him. It felt so good to feel her in his arms at last after months of parting for the mission of his grandson's rescue. His emotions began to overwhelm him and he needed air, pulled back from her but kept her close, his arms under her shoulders and his hands fisting in her silky, brown curls.
"I missed you!" she breathed, her forehead resting against his jaw, his mouth. "I missed you, too!" he returned.
Henry, standing nearby, groaned, "Ah, Grandpa, get a room!"
The crowd began to laugh, both at the boy's words and the sight of the Dark One embracing his love on the docks in the midst of a crowd, a public display no one ever thought to see. Henry bent down, retrieved the gold handled cane and handed it back to his grandfather. Rumpel disentangled himself from his lovely Belle, embracing her with his left hand as he took his cane in his right.
"Something's not right here," Emma interjected, her eyes trained on August's features. She reached out her hand, cupping the boy's chin as she took him in. "You were a lot younger when we left. What happened?"
Snow and David closed in on the boy, noticing for the first time the change in his appearance. Snow turned to Marco, puzzled. "Marco, how long have we been gone?"
The old man shrugged and looked into Snow's expressive eyes. "Nearly four years, your Majesty."
The small group looked at each other in disbelief. "You're kidding," David said, "we've only been gone for a little over two months."
"It's Neverland!" Hook spat, drawing their attention. "I should have figured something like this would happen. Time there is always messed up." Amused, he shifted his eyes toward Rumpel. "Well, Crocodile, I guess you're lucky your little Belle didn't give up on you and find someone else to occupy her time."
Rumpel turned his eyes back to those of his petite love standing next to him, but she cast her own blue orbs downward, a disquieted blush coloring her features. Sensing something was wrong, he tentatively asked, "Belle?"
Pulling away from him, Belle looked up, biting her lower lip as she tended to do when anxious. Aware that so many eyes were now trained on them in this very private moment, she nervously returned, "Well, Rumpel, actually…there is someone who has been occupying my time for a long while now." Taking his hand in hers, she tugged him toward the sleepy town a few steps, then turned and said, "Come, there's someone I want you to meet."