Hello, peeps! Welcome to chapter 2 of Song of the Savior, entitled, The Wardrobe. This chapter is a bit longer than the first one, and it features several different perspectives. Not just Emma's. In this chapter we get a little of Gold's perspective, as well as Snow's, and even a short bit of Cora's. And, at the end, we do finally get some of Willow's point of view as well.

So, just to be clear before anyone reads this and freaks out, although I'd rather not spoil too much, this fanfic does in fact feature a romance between my OC and Rumple. Belle will still be present in the story, but probably in a different context and I'm not sure what kind of role she might have yet. Please don't misunderstand and think I am a hater of Belle or the relationship she has with Rumple. In fact, I've shipped those two since Skin Deep. However, in light of more recent episodes and the, in my opinion, terrible injustice of their relationship and Rumple's character, I wanted to go a slightly different direction. I thought to myself, what if Rumple didn't fall in love with a completely innocent, righteous young lady like Belle? What if he instead fell for someone whose past was every bit as twisted as his? Or at least someone who had the capacity to understand and accept his darkness.

Anyway, that's where the idea for this story originated. So, yes, we will be learning about Willow's story, probably starting in the next chapter, and eventually her history with Rumple and some of the other characters as well.

Hope you find some enjoyment!

Disclaimer: I have zero rights to Once Upon a Time or its plot devices.

Chapter 2: The Wardrobe

Earlier…

Mr. Gold stood at his desk, impatiently flipping through book pages, despite knowing that no amount of searching would do him much good while he was still seething on the inside. All the work he'd put into the curse, into making sure that all his pieces were perfectly in place—and yet his goal remained just out of reach. Would he be doomed to another century of searching—waiting for his chance to make things right?

He let out a frustrated sigh and touched his forehead, sure that he felt a splitting headache coming on. He wanted something that would calm his nerves. He wanted tea. And tea always made him think of—

A strong desire to shove knives in his ears came over Gold when the annoying tinkling of his doorbell signaled a person's unwarranted entrance and forced him out of his thoughts. He glanced up with half a mind to wave his hand and transform them into something unpleasant that he could easily squash. Like a leech or an insect. He almost smiled at the mental picture.

But instead, he simply gave his visitor a pointed look. "What could you possibly want now, Regina?"

Gold's rival and most prized pupil stopped in her tracks half way across the room, and suddenly it occurred to him that he'd neglected to repair the damage to the cabinets he smashed an hour ago. His cane was still lying on the floor, while hundreds of broken glass shards were scattered around the walk space.

Regina stepped gingerly around some of the carnage. "What the hell is this?" she demanded. "Oh, please tell me you didn't have a tantrum in here while I was gone."

Gold cocked his head, observing her movements closely as he flicked his wrist to fix the cabinets within a few short seconds. "That's hardly any of your business," he told her blandly and watched her cross the newly de-cluttered shop floor to the edge of his desk. He shut his book before she was close enough to see what he was reading.

She scoffed. "You can be such a petulant child."

"And you certainly have quite a bit of room to be name-calling, given how well you've accepted your—defeat. No one likes a sore loser, Dearie."

"I am not defeated," she hissed, causing Gold to raise his eyebrows slightly. "These people may know the truth now but they are still trapped here. And now I have my magic back."

"No, no, Love," Gold said with a short laugh. "I didn't mean them. I meant Henry. Accepting the fact that he's never going to forgive you after all you've done. I mean, we both know you can't make someone love you. That's something you have to earn, isn't it?"

Regina crossed her arms. "And what, you don't think I'm capable of that?"

He shrugged and casually moved to return his book to its resting place. "Who am I to say? That's up to you."

"So then, what am I supposed to do?" she asked in an exasperated tone.

"Is this really why you came to me? To figure out how to solve all your problems?"

She let out a huff and began pacing in front of the desk. "Well, it's not like I have anyone else to talk to, is it?"

"True," Gold said. "But the problem with that is, and it may come as a shock to you, but I still have no desire whatsoever to help you. I relented on your mother's spell book, but I wouldn't push it further, Dearie. My patience is thin, today."

Regina smirked. "Why, because your master plan didn't work out and you can't leave town? That's what this is about, isn't it? You said you were planning a trip. Where exactly are you headed that's so special? Or more importantly, what are you looking for?"

"Again—not your business."

"Oh, come on, I talk to you about everything!"

She said it almost as if she meant it as a joke, but Gold wasn't really in the mood. "Right. Except when it's inconvenient for you. And disclosing my plans to you is certainly not convenient for me."

"You bastard," Regina hissed. "And all this time I thought you were on my side."

"I'm on no one's side but mine—I'd have thought you knew that by now."

"Everything you did—training me, giving me the curse, not doing a thing to try to escape it—you really did want all this to happen, didn't you? After all you've put me through—I deserve to know what this is about."

Gold scoffed. Entitled as always. Like mother, like daughter. "After all I've put you through? Really. I gave you everything you always wanted. But your failures are on you. You don't deserve anything."

"My failures? No, no. You did this. You knew the curse would be broken from the very beginning—"

"Which I did warn you about, by the way."

"No! You may have given me everything, but the only reason it was all ripped away was because of you. You did me no favors."

Gold leaned closer to her and smiled dryly. "Well, then, if I've never done you any favors, then why do you keep coming back? Face it, Regina. You need me. You always have. Perhaps you should have thought about that before lying to me."

Her face grew tinted with red, maybe a combination of anger and embarrassment. She gritted her teeth and flattened her palm on the desk. "Okay, so withheld the truth to further my own agenda. As if you wouldn't do the same thing."

"Oh, certainly I would. But you shouldn't make enemies of those around you unless you are willing and able to shoulder the consequences."

She glared at him. "You already sent out a wraith to rip out my soul. I'd think we'd be even." When he simply raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at her, she hissed out, "I'm sorry. That good enough for you?"

"I think not," Gold said.

She pushed away from the desk with an angry release of air that made her look far younger than she was, and it amused him only slightly. "You know what? Fine. I don't need you. I'll figure this out on my own." Then, as she turned away from him, she snapped, "And good luck with your memory potion." She slammed the door on the way out, and the bell vibrations made his ears ache. He wondered if perhaps he should just get rid of the bell altogether. He hated it, anyway.

After a few seconds, he smiled and let out a small chuckle. Oh, Regina… you've become more like Cora than you know. But luckily for him—not entirely.

Feeling surprisingly more composed after having it out with Regina, Gold let out a sigh and turned away from his desk, where he opened up one of his little cabinets against the wall. Inside sat a tiny vial, holding a single drop of tree sap. It glowed green, faintly even in the light of the room. Gold removed it from its spot and held it between two fingers, bewitched by its glow. He knew what it meant, but there was a part of him that still didn't believe it.

"Oh, Willow," he murmured under his breath, "Where are you?"

Yesterday…

"Well, it's certainly been a long time," Gold said. "And what can I do for you?"

Jefferson reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small vial. Holding it out gently toward Gold, he asked, "You know what this is, I expect?"

At first, Gold was too shocked to speak. Even when he opened his mouth, no words came. As Jefferson said, he did indeed recognize the drop of magic inside the bottle, but the fact that it was here at all in front of his own eyes—it was impossible.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, forehead creasing as he regarded the former Hatter.

"She gave it to me long ago," Jefferson said. "I kept it in case I ever needed its restorative properties."

"Then why show it to me?" Gold regarded him with a suspicious glare.

"Because I happen to know that you have a history with the person this belongs to," he said. "I also know that you've thought her dead up until now. But—I think it's safe to say Regina's no stranger to lying."

Gold narrowed his eyes on the vial. "Let me guess. Regina broke a deal with you and now you want me to take care of her."

Jefferson slowly stepped forward, putting the object within arm's reach. "I just want her to suffer."

"Oh, trust me," Gold replied, wrapping his fingers tightly around the piece of glass as his blood boiled with a new-found resentment. "She will."

Now…

Emma, Mary Margaret, and Mulan trudged along through the forest until after sundown. The air became brisk as night fell on them, and Emma was glad that she had her jacket with her. Eventually they stopped in a large, rather conspicuous clearing in the forest, where Mulan decided it was a good idea to set up camp. And when she suggested collecting firewood, Emma raised her eyebrows.

"Um, if we're hiding from ogres, shouldn't we maybe, I don't know, not start a fire?"

Mary Margaret replied, "Ogres are blind. They hunt by sound alone."

Emma frowned. Of course. "Right, because that's something everyone would know about ogres."

"Look," Mary Margaret hesitated, "I know you're out of your element—"

"I'm fine."

"I know… but maybe you should just stay here while we get wood and water. Guard the campsite?"

"You mean the big empty clearing?"

"It's the safest place," Mary Margaret said. "We'll be right back."

But as she turned to leave with Mulan, Emma was sure she'd never felt more embarrassed or insulted in all her life. God, she hated feeling so helpless.

For several minutes she simply stood around and waited little a good little girl while her companions were gathering some supplies, but it got old fast. Emma wasn't the one used to being left on the side. She'd always had to be on the frontlines because that's where she was the most comfortable. She couldn't fathom the idea of trusting anyone else with her life. One thing she learned quite early on in life—no one was ever going to look out for her. She had to do it herself.

Emma was pulled out of her frustration when she thought she heard some noise nearby. She quickly moved to check it out, just in case it was a threat and her companions needed her. However, what she found in the trees when she moved closer to the noise were her companions and one extra she couldn't make out in the dark, fighting about something.

"Don't talk to her like that!"

"She tried to kill me!"

"I will deal with her!"

Emma's warning signals went off when she saw a weapon come out, and her first instinct was to grab for her gun. She didn't even stop to hesitate before pointing it up in the air and shooting.

All three woman turned to stare at her with horrified glances on their faces. "Emma, what are you doing?" Mary Margaret hissed.

Emma pointed the gun at Mulan as a warning. "Protecting you. Drop the weapon."

"Do you have any idea what you've just done?"

No sooner had Mary Margaret finished that sentence that a low growl broke through the dark forest. It took Emma all of a few seconds to realize her deadly mistake before Mary Margaret cried out and they all took off running into the grabbed the other woman's hand to lead them along as Emma kept a hurried pace beside Mary Margaret, her heart pumping in her chest with adrenaline.

Luckily, the forest was not dense in their area so they were able to keep a straight path, but the ground shook under their very feet due to the heavy footsteps of the ogre on their trail. "Emma, the whistle!" Mary Margaret shouted through quickened breaths, reminding her of what she was too frazzled to remember in her haste.

Immediately Emma started digging through her jacket looking for the whistle that would supposedly ward off the ogre threat. She felt it on her fingers, but while she was distracted, a fallen branch caught her foot. She tumbled forward, falling behind her group. While still on her back, Emma turned to face the monster emerging from the shadows, approaching her compromised form. It looked almost human, but it was bald, muscular, and four times her size.

Holy shit…

She didn't cry out or call for help—her impulses got the best of her again and she pulled out her gun. But the instance she held it up to the ogre's face, it smacked the weapon out of her grasp.

"Seriously?" she muttered, her heart beating a mile a minute. The ogre let out a horrific roar, causing her to flinch back.

She reached into her pocket one more time. Whistle…

Seeing as it was her only shot, she pulled out the little piece of junk and just blew on it as hard as she could. The screeching frequency was enough to hurt her own ears, but the ogre yelled out and flinched back, reaching up to try to cover its ears. She blew again, with less force this time, but it had the same effect. The beast stumbled backward, crying and carrying on, while Emma could only lie on the ground stunned as opposed to run away like a smart person probably would have done. The ogre turned clumsily and started in the opposite direction, as if to escape the sound of the whistle, but it didn't get far.

Mary Margaret was waiting for her opportunity. And as soon as the ogre's face was in full view, she pulled out her bow and struck it right in the eye. It fell to the ground, causing a miniature earthquake beneath them, and went still almost instantly.

Finally, Emma was coherent enough to stand on her feet, although she was still staring at the whistle Willow gave her. Honestly, she couldn't believe it actually worked. She grabbed her gun off the ground, which, unfortunately, had been pulverized by the ogre. She was even more surprised to find when she approached Mary Margaret, who pulled her arrow out of the ogre's eye, that there was blood seeping out of the creature's ears.

"This thing really works," Emma said incredulously, inspecting the damage from a slight distance.

Mary Margaret nodded. "It'll hurt them, yeah. It doesn't kill them, though. You have to shoot them in the eye."

Through labored breaths, Emma asked, "When was the last time you shot an arrow?"

Mary Margaret shrugged and said, "Twenty-eight years ago. I guess it's like riding a bike."

Emma's jaw dropped a bit. "Yeah, but—how'd you know you could hit that?"

"I didn't," Mary Margaret replied. And then, with a small smile, "Next time, listen to me? That kind of thing isn't going to work here." She gestured mildly to Emma's now useless weapon.

Emma of course, who was all but speechless at this point, just nodded and muttered, "Yeah."

"We should get going." And Mary Margaret led on.

In the end, the group didn't get much rest since they were forced to move again after the ogre attack. Other than some brief stops during the night, they kept moving until their feet were sore. Luckily, Emma had pretty decent stamina.

And for the rest of the night, Emma stuck to doing what she was told. In fact, for the most part she kept her mouth shut altogether. Whether she liked it or not, based on the tragedy she nearly caused she realized that she was completely out of sorts in this land. And her own stubborn pride wasn't worth putting everyone else at risk. She didn't care how they accomplished it. All she wanted was to make it home to her son.

"We're getting close," Mary Margaret said eventually, as they made their way through the dark.

Lagging in the back was now Aurora (Or, Emma guessed, the notorious Sleeping Beauty), the woman who'd shown up unannounced before the ogre attack. As Emma had observed about her on the way to the encampment, she was frailer than her other companions and struggled quite a bit to keep up their pace, which Mulan scolded her for more than once.

"Sorry, but I'm not exactly dressed for the woods," Aurora said. "It's cold out here!"

"Well, then maybe you should have listened to me and stayed back," Mulan snapped.

Emma let out a sigh and began shrugging off her jacket. "Here," she said quietly, holding it out to the princess.

Aurora took the garment hesitantly. "But I—tried to kill your friend."

In an exhausted tone, Emma replied, "Actually, she's my mom. I have a feeling she can take care of herself. And I get it. You're not the only one who's been screwing up lately."

"Up here," Mulan called from a break in the trees up ahead.

Emma hurried to Mary Margaret's side, where she looked out across a long body of water reflecting the moonlight, and a castle sitting in the distance. "Is that it?" she asked.

"Yeah," Mary Margaret said wistfully. "That's our home."

From the moment they stepped through the castle gate, Snow wasn't sure she was going to be able to hold herself together. There was a part of her that wanted to stay strong for her companions, and her daughter in particular, but it took every ounce of strength for her to hold the tears back when they entered the nursery. The room seemed so dark and lonely now, even though years ago it was filled with light and promises for her future with Charming and their little girl. The crib was toppled over and covered with dust, toys strewn about—Emma didn't even know what all this meant to her. What it meant to all of them.

"Oh my God," Emma said, immediately making her way over to the wardrobe. "I recognize this from Henry's book."

Mulan and Aurora left the room to go stand watch at the gate, and while Emma was distracted Snow stayed busy strolling down memory lane. "I never thought I'd see this place again," she murmured, picking up the ratty old stuffed bear that was supposed to go in Emma's crib. "This room… it was your nursery."

"I lived here?" Emma asked.

Snow shook her head. "You never even got to spend a night." Then, after a pause and a look around at the shadowy walls, "This is the life I wanted you to have. I was going to teach you how to walk in here. How to talk… how to dress for your first ball. You never got to do any of it. We never got to be a family."

"We have a family," Emma said with resolve, shaking Snow out of her moment. As Emma lazily slipped her jacket on, she continued, "In Storybrooke. And right now, they need us to get back there. So—how do we get this to work?" She pointed to the wardrobe, and even as Snow moved beside Emma to take a look, her heart sank with regret.

They opened up the wardrobe together, and Emma asked, "Where's the 'on' switch?"

Snow shook her head. "It's more complicated than that. We'll have to get it back to the island. Hopefully someone there has access to enough magic to make it work again."

"How are we gonna carry this thing?" Emma added.

"With the help of an old friend."

The familiar voice caught Snow's attention, and she turned toward the door. Approaching her was none other than Lancelot, who was just about the last person she expected to see. "Lancelot! What are you doing here?"

"We heard about the ogre attack and I had to make sure you were all right," Lancelot said.

Well, that news traveled fast… how exactly…?

"Where are Mulan and Aurora?" Snow asked.

Lancelot replied, "I sent them to find food. Tonight we'll make camp, and then in the morning, we'll head back." Snow nodded, and Lancelot turned to look at the wardrobe. "So this is it—the portal you were after."

"The same one Emma went through," Snow said. "That's how she skipped the curse."

"Remarkable…" Lancelot murmured under his breath, causing Snow to cast him a narrow side glance out of suspicion.

"Geppetto carved it from an enchanted tree, but there's no magic left."

"Well, a portal this powerful… there must be a way to recharge it," Lancelot said.

Snow smiled, now convinced that something wasn't quite right. "Why are you so interested in the wardrobe?" she asked casually.

Lancelot turned to them. "Well—I just want you to get home to your husband—" Then, with a glance at Emma, he said, "And son. Henry. They must miss you."

It was then that Snow knew. Stepping in front of Emma and pulling out her sword, she pointed it squarely at Lancelot. Or… the person impersonating Lancelot, for that matter. "Stay away from him, Emma," she said, not taking her eyes off the imposter. "He's not who he says he is."

"What are you talking about?" Emma asked nervously. "Who the hell is he?"

"There's only one person you told Henry's name."

A short pause fell between them. Emma swallowed. "Cora."

With that, the figure of Lancelot became engulfed in purple smoke, and Regina's mother appeared, hands on her hips. "Clever girl," Cora said, sounding genuinely impressed.

"Where's Lancelot?" Snow demanded, still holding her sword up, despite knowing it likely wouldn't be much help against Cora, who she knew to have power that nearly rivaled Rumpelstiltskin's.

"Oh, he's dead," Cora said in a nonchalant tone. "I killed him a long time ago."

Snow's heart broke a little at that point. "And you've been posing as him ever since?"

"Well, they'd never listen to me," Cora explained. "And besides, every kingdom needs a hero, don't you think?"

Snow was about through listened to this monstrous woman talk, and moved in to attack. But she didn't make it far, as Cora reacted quickly and waved her hand, forcing her back against the wall. Emma didn't even get a chance to move. She was on the ground at the other side of the room in an instant.

Snow felt something pressing on her windpipe, and she could barely breathe. Cora had a smug smile on her face as she approached Snow's paralyzed body. "Thank you, Snow," she said pleasantly. "I've been looking for a way over for so long. I never thought the person to help me find it would be you." Emma stood up to run to Snow's aid, but once again it was futile. Without even turning around, Cora wrapped her legs up in the floor rug and tripped her mid-step.

Through her swallow breaths, Snow whispered, "Why—why are you doing this?"

"I want to see my daughter," Cora said. "It's been too long. And you know, I would love to meet my grandson, Henry."

A wave of panic shot through Snow when she mentioned Henry, even though she was powerless to have a say in the matter. It was Emma who played out the next move while Cora was distracted. "No, you won't!" she shouted, leaping away from the wardrobe immediately after setting it on fire using the wood and one of the bullets from her gun.

"No!" Cora hissed, turning and grabbing the ball of fire in her hand. Snow struggled in vain to free herself as Cora hurled the fire toward Emma in her rage, but Mulan appeared just in the nick of time. She deflected the flames with her sword, earning a deadly snarl of frustration from Cora, who, just moments ago, had spoken with such gentle conviction. "We're not done," the witch said through her teeth, and then disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke.

Snow sucked in a relieved breath of air as she stumbled to the floor and coughed from the pressure on her throat. "Are you okay?" Emma asked, hurrying toward her.

Holding a hand to her stomach while still trying to catch her breath, Snow said, "You saved me."

Emma laughed. "Yeah, well—where is she?"

Snow let out a sigh. "Gone." Thankfully…

At that point, both of them turned toward the enchanted wardrobe, now engulfed in flames with no hope of restoring it. "So is our ride home," Emma murmured ruefully. But even though a heavy weight rested on Snow's chest now that their only possible way home that she knew was destroyed, she was more satisfied knowing that Cora wouldn't be able to use it.

After putting out the fire and determining without a doubt that the wardrobe was now useless, the four women stood together in silence. Softly, Aurora said, "So all this time—Lancelot?"

"Lancelot was one of the most noble knights I ever knew," Snow said, turning away so she could close her eyes.

"How could I be so blind?" Mulan said. "How could I not see that it was Cora?"

"Well, to be fair, the whole shape-shifting thing threw me, too," Emma said.

"What are we going to tell the people on the island?" Mulan asked.

"The truth!" Snow insisted, turning around. "That Lancelot was cut down by a terrible villain. He died an honorable death."

Mulan nodded in understanding, but then added, "Cora's still out there. We need to find her and defend what's left of the kingdom."

"Who's going to lead us? You?" Aurora asked.

"No," Mulan said, turning her head toward Snow. "Her."

Snow's eyes widened. When in the world was this decided? While she had no fear of being a leader, she wasn't expecting such a request to come from these two.

"Well—I'm honored," she said after a moment's pause. "But Emma and I still have to find a way back to Storybrooke."

"We'll help you," Mulan said, in a softer tone than any of them had heard out of her thus far. "We'll find a way, won't we?"

Aurora smiled. "Yes… perhaps—it'll help me channel my anger."

Snow smiled back and granted her a nod.

After that they all headed out, but once Aurora and Mulan were out the door, Emma bid Snow to hang back. Jabbing her thumbs into her back pockets, Emma muttered, "I'm, uh… sorry I torched our ride home. I couldn't let her get to Henry. I just—"

"You had to put Henry first," Snow said, smiling so Emma knew she understood. But then, the conversation took a different turn that even Snow wasn't sure she was ready for.

There was a long second of pause. Emma's eyes were wide and filled with terror, as if she was about to give a speech in front of a room of people for the first time. Snow stayed quiet to let her speak, but Emma may as well have stabbed her in the heart when she began, "I—I was angry at you for so long. Wondering how—you could choose to let me grow up without you." Emma's face contorted as her eyes shined with tears. "But then I just—seeing all this—You gave up everything for me. And you're still doing that."

Snow gave Emma a sad smile as she stopped again to compose herself. But this time it failed, and her voice weakened. "I—I'm sorry, I'm not good at this. I—I guess I just… I'm not—I'm not used to someone putting me first."

Tears began oozing out of the corners of her daughter's eyes, and Snow immediately closed the distance and wrapped her arms around her. Emma returned the embrace, shaking mildly in her arms—and Snow took a few seconds to imagine that Emma was a little girl again. The little girl she never got a chance to meet.

Squeezing her closer, Snow whispered, "Well, get used to it." That made Emma laugh, and Snow pulled away, brushing some tears off her daughter's cheek. In an effort to recover from her emotional moment, Emma laughed it off and turned to leave. Snow slung her arrows over her shoulder and made to follow her, but first turned back to look at her nursery one last time.

She pictured it in her mind how it should have been—full of light and colors, the baby in her crib with all the toys she and David were going to use to spoil her. But none of it happened the way she planned. She missed her daughter's whole childhood and there was no getting it back. Even so, she had the rest of her life to make up for lost time and no curse would take that away. She'd have liked to see it try.

That heartfelt moment between Snow and her daughter was sweet and all, but frankly, Cora was exhausted from all the blubbering and crying and felt relieved when they were finally gone. Maybe in another life she would have been sympathetic to their plight, but after all these years the heavy burden of emotions had grown numb, almost like a severed limb.

It was all for the best as far as she was concerned.

With a smile gracing her elegant lips, Cora reentered Snow's nursery with a vial in hand and bent down on her knees before the enchanted wardrobe. Or, what was left of it, at least. Such a lovely wardrobe—it was almost a shame that it had been destroyed.

Making sure that no one was nearby, Cora reached down to scoop some of the remaining ashes of the wardrobe into the vial. As she peered at the dust, her smile widened and her held the vial tightly between her fingers. She thought of Regina, waiting for her in the new land. Soon they would be reunited. Soon they would be mother and daughter again, as they were always meant to be. Even if Regina resisted her at first, that would change quickly. Whether she knew it or not, Regina was going to need her again.

Cora would make certain of that.

The Next Day…

"So, is she supposed to get here sometime this week or what?" Willow asked as she sat and drew pictures in the sand with a stick. She had long since thrown off her shoes and buried her toes in the sand—but the sky was dark and the ground felt cool under her skin, and the sound of the water rushing back and forth on the shore sent chills down her spine.

Captain Killian Jones, also known by many as Hook, who was currently busy looking across the water at the safe stretch of land from a distance through a small telescope, let out a frustrated sigh in response to Willow's question. "She'll get here when she gets here, love—why so impatient?"

"Because I'm bored," Willow said simply.

"Well, maybe you should go for a swim, then."

"I'm not that good at swimming."

"Oh, brilliant. Even better. Maybe then you'll drown and be free of your misery."

Willow pretended to be insulted. "Do you ever have anything kind to say?"

"Do you ever stop complaining?" Hook shot back.

Willow looked up at him, squinting from the sunlight, and smiled sweetly. "Only when you aren't around, darling. I know how much you love hearing me talk."

He dropped his arm and glared at her. "You know, my patience only stretches so far. And if you continue to get on my nerves, I may just have to shove my hook down your windpipe." He held his deadly hand replacement out in front of her in such a threatening manner that she had to subdue her own laughter. To most people it probably wouldn't have been funny to be threatened by a pirate—but she knew he wouldn't try to hurt her. And whether or not he could hurt her if he tried—well, that was a topic up for debate.

"I see," she said, biting her lip. "Well, I'm sorry, Killian, that you feel that way. But if it makes you feel any better, your anger provides me with much-needed entertainment."

Hook rolled his eyes and looked back out at the sea. "Charmed to hear it." Then, after a pause, "Just remember, love, that you're working for us. Not the other way around. We could easily dispose of you."

With a laugh, Willow said, "Oh, you think so? Excuse me, but I believe I'm the one who's been all over the forest looking for the magic we need."

"Yes, and you've done such an excellent job so far."

"I don't see you making process, Captain."

"All right, that's quite enough out of you two for one afternoon." Hook and Willow both turned in surprise when an extra voice joined in on their conversation.

"Hello, Cora," Hook said, his voice suddenly radiating calm at the new presence, which, as usual, appeared with little warning.

Cora, a petite woman who had a grand presence and a smile despite the ice in her eyes, approached and came to a stop at Hook's side. He continued, "You said you had something important to show us?"

In response, Cora held out a vial, filled with some sort of magic inside it. Of course, Hook didn't see the significance. "Sparkly dirt," he said. "Wonderful." Willow snickered and he shot a side-glare in her direction.

"Just the remains of a magical wardrobe that can travel between worlds," Cora said.

Willow's eyes widened. "Really? How'd you manage to get your hands on that?" Portals to other realms were scarce at best. But a dimension-jumping wardrobe? There was only one way that made sense. If the wardrobe was crafted from an enchanted tree. But those weren't exactly easy to come by, either.

Cora smiled gently and put the vial away for safe-keeping. "Let's just say I know how to pick my battles." Vague answers as usual. Cora had a habit of skirting around specifics, and almost never saying exactly what she meant. It reminded Willow quite a bit of someone else she knew.

"So is there enough to get us where we need to go?" Hook asked.

"Not quite," Cora said, "But it's a start."

Hook nodded. "We're almost ready to set sail. What's our port of destination?"

"Storybrooke," Cora replied, causing Willow to raise an eyebrow.

"Strange name for a town. This is where everyone from the rest of the Enchanted Forest went?" Willow folded her arms across her chest.

With a nod of affirmation, Cora said, "Yes—that's where we'll find them all."

Hook didn't smile. He rarely did, but for once Willow did see what looked like a sparkle of excitement in his eyes. "Excellent. So, you'll be able to see your daughter—you'll have your freedom—and I'll be able to skin me a crocodile."

"I'm sure, you'll be thrilled, Willow," Cora said, looking at her across Hook. "Not much longer now and your magic will be yours again."

In return, Willow simply cast the witch a glare, which only caused her to chuckle in amusement and turn away. Rest assured, once I have my magic back I'll destroy you, Cora…

Willow released a small sigh, one that was too quiet for Hook or Cora to hear, and turned away in the direction of the sea, allowing the breeze from the water to cool her cheeks. She pressed her lips into a thin line as the silence fell between them, as the truth fell upon her alone. She knew she had to be prepared for what was next. A storm was coming, and she sat on the front lines.

One wrong move, and she was dead.

Fun fact: the last scene in this chapter is actually the first one I wrote for the story, like, a few months ago. I then came back later and wrote the first two chapters. Also, I'm not sure if you noticed, but I also added some original Rumple and Regina material. I was a little creeped out by the direction they went this season, but I've still always thought they had an interesting relationship. So I'll be messing with that a little.