Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize belongs to me.
A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter - your support means everything to me. Special shout-out to my anonymous reviewers Silver wolves, Sarah (x2), Ellie (x2), Guest (I'm sorry, I can't tell you Snow's not dead...and I myself am devastated about it), and Bosslady. You guys rock!
A/N: Many thanks to Melissa for betaing and for always being ready with a useful motivational song lyric. This chapter is for anyone whose February was terrible. May your March be bright!
When he opened his eyes, he saw nothing but grey. He blinked, confused for a moment as he looked around at the light grey leaves on dark grey trees against a darker grey sky. Then he looked down at the list still clutched in his light grey hand. Graham chuckled. "Guess they meant that literally."
Beside him, Ghost was sniffing the grass, probably looking for food. It'd been a while since either of them had eaten, although he'd lost track of how much time had passed since they'd started jumping through worlds. Graham reached in his pocket and pulled out the jewelry box. He was surprised to see that it, unlike his own skin and Ghost's hide, still retained its color. For a moment, his heart leapt – did that mean it was glowing? But then he realized that the jewelry box was just as unremarkable as before, excepting the fact that it hadn't turned silver.
Graham sighed and put the box back in his pocket as Ghost trotted back to him, a dead squirrel in her mouth. She dropped it on the ground before him, but he shook his head; raw squirrel didn't particularly appeal. Ghost began munching on the squirrel as Graham crossed out another item on his list. Not the world without color.
So far, the jewelry box had refused to glow in every single realm he'd visited. Wonderland, the land without magic, Neverland, and now the world without color – none of them triggered the jewelry box's spell. More than once he'd wondered whether Rumpelstiltskin had tricked him and hadn't placed any spell on the box at all. But Graham also believed him when he said he was invested in his future, whatever that meant. It wasn't much of an investment if the box didn't actually work.
Still, it was disheartening. More than half of the beans were gone, and he hadn't found a realm with Emma. He supposed it was possible that she wasn't in any of the realms on the list – after all, he'd constructed the list from books he found in the abandoned castle library, and there was no guarantee it was complete. On the other hand, he felt sure that Rumpelstiltskin had a reason for everything he did, and since he had only given Graham seven beans, that had to mean Emma was in one of the seven realms. Rumpelstiltskin didn't seem like the type to leave anything to chance.
Graham looked down at the list again. The next realm was a place called Arendelle. Graham took another bean from the pouch and whistled to Ghost, who had run off to find another squirrel after devouring the first one. Ever obedient, Ghost came bounding back.
"Ready, girl?" he asked. Ghost wagged her tail. Graham threw the bean on the ground. Take me to Arendelle; take me to Arendelle. The portal opened and Graham and Ghost stepped once more into the light.
When he landed, the first thing he noticed was color. The next thing was that he was standing by a frozen pond and was surrounded by white. Ghost sidled up next to him, rubbing against his legs. She might have a fur coat to keep her warm, but he was not prepared at all for this change in temperature. Clearly the worlds weren't all following the same seasons. He silently chastised himself for not coming better prepared. Of course the worlds weren't on the same season; he felt silly for expecting they would be.
With trembling fingers, he shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out the jewelry box. It still wasn't glowing, and for once, he felt a sense of relief instead of dread. He was freezing now, and eager to leave Arendelle was soon as possible. He reached into his pocket to pull out the list and the beans, but a sudden gust of wintry wind blew everything out of his frozen hands.
"No!" Graham snatched at the paper, but the wind was too strong. Ghost sprang after the list while Graham ran after the beans. The icy wind was painful against his exposed skin. He supposed he must look ridiculous to anyone passing by, since he was running through the snow in nothing but a thin shirt and pants, but he barely registered the stares. He was so focused on following the beans that he didn't even notice the patch of ice until he had already slipped and landed face-first in the snow.
Graham groaned and rolled onto his back. His face stung from the snow and wind, and he screwed up his eyes against the pain. He had never felt such cold.
"Are you all right?" He heard a girl's voice, and then felt a hand on his shoulder. "Are you hurt?"
"No," Graham said grimly as he opened his eyes. The girl looked to be a few years younger than him, with long red hair in braids, fur-lined boots, and a thick winter cloak, which she was already removing to give to him.
"No – no," he insisted, trying to move away as she draped the cloak around him. "You don't have to-"
"Please," she said, waving his objections aside with a gloved hand. "You're freezing. It's the least I can do. I'm Anna, by the way." She offered him her hand.
I'm Emma. Don't be scared. Take my hand; come with me.
"Graham," he said, taking her hand and slowly getting to his feet. "And this is my dog, Ghost," he continued, as Ghost trotted up to him, holding the list in her mouth. "Good girl," he murmured to her as he took the list and pocketed it. He didn't know why he bothered; the list was useless without the beans. He glanced around, but of course they were nowhere to be seen.
"Graham?" Anna began tentatively. "Are you looking for these?" She opened her other hand, revealing two small beans.
"Yes!" Graham exclaimed, relieved. "How did you know?"
She shrugged as she handed the beans back to him. "I guess when you grow up here, you get used to seeing people chase after things in the snow. I could see that's what you were running after, so I grabbed them. I mean, it's really strange to see beans just flying around in the middle of winter, you know? Although, I suppose just as strange as seeing someone dressed like you—oh!" She broke off with a nervous laugh. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. Where are my manners? Why don't you come home with me? I can get you some proper clothes – my father had some things that might fit – and you can have a good meal and warm up."
"I don't want to trouble you," Graham said, embarrassed by Anna's earnest attention. "I really should be going. Thank you so much for your kindness. I don't need any warmer clothes; I won't be staying here."
"What do you mean?" Anna asked. "Where are you going to go? Surely it will be snowing there, too."
"I don't know if it will be snowing," he replied. "It might warm up."
Anna laughed. "Not in Arendelle, not for a few months anyway. Winter comes early and lasts long. Unless…" Her eyes widened. "Are you leaving Arendelle? Do you know how to travel to other worlds?" She gasped. "Were those magic beans?"
Graham hesitated, feeling overwhelmed by Anna's curiosity. She seemed harmless, but he'd learned long ago, the hard way, that people could pretend to be harmless to get him to let his guard down. Still, there was something vaguely familiar about her genuine interest and innocence that drew him to her, the way he'd once been drawn to Emma. "I've been using them to get to other realms, yes," he finally answered. "I'm trying to find someone."
"A quest!" Anna exclaimed, sounding positively delighted. "Oh, please, come home with me and have a meal. I would love to hear more, and I'm sure you could use the rest."
"No – I couldn't – I don't want to trouble you-"
"It's no trouble at all!" Anna insisted. "You would be doing me a favor, honestly. I've always wanted to go on an adventure like yours, discovering other realms. But I can't leave; my sister needs me. So hearing about it would be the next best thing!"
"Well…" Graham glanced uncertainly at Ghost. Ghost looked pointedly in Anna's direction. He supposed she did have a point. As much as he wanted to leave and find Emma, it was possible that it was winter in the next realm, too, and he might not find anyone as hospitable as Anna there to bail him out of trouble.
Come on, it's okay. I want to help you. It's freezing out here in the stables.
"All right," he relented.
Anna clapped her hands with delight. "I'm so happy you're going to stay! I'm sure Elsa – my sister – would love to meet you, too. Come on, the castle is just over this way."
Graham's eyes widened. "Castle?" he repeated. "Are you-"
"No, no," Anna said, waving her hand. "Elsa's the queen, thank goodness. I could never rule a kingdom."
You don't have to call me princess. Just call me by my name.
"Graham?"
"Huh?" Graham felt a blush creeping up his neck. He hadn't realized that Anna had been talking to him. "I was just – sorry. What did you say?"
"It's nothing," Anna said. "It's not important. I don't want to intrude on your thoughts."
"Please," Graham replied. "You rescued my beans and invited me into your home. I think you're entitled to some intrusion."
Anna bit her lip. "Well – okay. You don't have to answer. But I was just asking – you said before that you were looking for someone," she said tentatively. "And I was asking who that was."
Emma. My name is Emma.
He hesitated, not sure what to say. He hardly knew Anna, and ten years with Regina had taught him to be wary of everything. But Regina was far away now, and there was just something about Anna that made him want to trust her.
"Her name is Emma," he answered quietly. It had been so long since he'd talked about her to anyone. Most times, he tried not to think about it; the memories were too painful. But now that Anna had gotten him started, he couldn't stop. "She was a princess, like you, but in another realm. When she was eight, her parents were murdered by the Evil Queen. Well – her mother was, anyway. The rumor is that her father is still alive, but no one has seen him in ten years."
Anna nodded. "Go on."
Graham swallowed back the lump rising in his throat. "Before her parents were – before the Evil Queen attacked, I was approached by a strange man with powerful magic who gave me a magic bean. He told me that I could use it to send Emma somewhere safe. I tried to take Emma and her parents out of the castle, but the Evil Queen found us before I could. I opened the portal, and Emma went in, but I have no idea where she is."
Anna frowned. "I've read about magic beans…When you open a portal, you have to say where you're going. Shouldn't you know – I mean, where did you send her?"
Graham sighed. It was the question that had tortured him for days, fueling his long nights in the library, trying to find names of other realms. "When I opened the portal, I made it send her somewhere safe without the Evil Queen," he answered. "I didn't know how specific I had to be. But since the Evil Queen is only in my realm, Emma could be anywhere except there."
"Ah," Anna said. "So which realms have you tried?"
"At this point, nearly all of them," Graham replied. "The only one left on the list is Oz."
To his surprise, Anna's frown deepened. "Didn't you say she had to be somewhere safe? Somewhere without an evil queen?"
"Not an evil queen, the Evil Queen," Graham explained. "I meant someone specific; her name is Regina." But even as he said it, he felt his stomach drop. He hadn't even considered the possibility that other realms could have evil queens, too. What if the bean hadn't known that? What if he'd wasted one of the precious beans traveling to a realm that Emma couldn't possibly have been sent to?
"Do you know of evil queens in other realms?" he asked.
"Well – I don't know if this counts," Anna began. "But I've heard that Oz has a Wicked Witch of the West. And she does rule, sort of like a queen. I think she even has a castle."
Graham could have kicked himself. He'd spent so much time poring over books, trying to find mentions of other realms, that he hadn't had time to read up on them. It was hard enough figuring out if a name even counted as a realm, let alone trying to find a book that could tell him something about it. Maybe if he hadn't rushed off to find Emma, hadn't been so desperate to get away from Regina, he would have found her already.
"Like I said, I don't know if that counts," Anna added quickly, sensing Graham's despair. "Maybe Elsa will have more ideas – she knows magic. Or I can look up more properties of magic beans in some of my books. We'll figure it out, don't worry."
Don't worry. You'll be safe here. You can stay as long as you want.
"Thanks," he said weakly.
You're welcome.
Before that night, he had never truly felt despair.
It was a deep, gnawing despair that refused to go away. After ten years, he had almost become used to the feeling of emptiness inside of him, the fact that he felt like a hollow shell of the man, the husband, the father, he used to be. But then, the anniversary would come again, and the emptiness would increase tenfold, sucking him further into the darkness. Every year, it felt like he was losing more of himself, and it became harder to tether himself to not just the present, but also to the memories of the past. As painful as it was to remember, the only thing that would be worse would be to forget.
Charming sighed and rolled over on his cot. Through the slit of his tent door, he could see it was growing light outside. He liked early mornings the best. It was before the dwarves got up, before the rest of the camp was awake, so it was one of the only times he could be alone during the day.
One of the only times he could talk to her.
He got up and dressed quickly before stepping out into the light. He no longer stopped to stare at the scars across his chest and back, and most days, he didn't even think about the fact that he was doing everything with his left hand. He'd long since become an expert at shoving his useless right arm into its sleeve. Some days, he could even do it without a twinge of anger, frustration, or renewed despair.
He was grateful to Doc for saving his life; if it hadn't been for Doc's quick thinking and the tourniquet, he wouldn't have made it. It was hard to be upset when he knew he should be thankful that he was alive at all, but, the measures Doc had taken were costly. The tourniquet had saved his life, but it had irreparably damaged the nerves in his arm. He couldn't raise his right arm, let alone use it to wield a sword. His greatest strength was gone.
He smiled wryly as he entered the woods. Of course that wasn't true. His skill as a swordsman had never been his greatest strength: she had been. And Emma, too. But now, they were gone. Emma was in god-knows-what realm, and he had no way to get to her. And Snow was…
Dead, he reminded himself. Regina crushed her heart. Even after all this time, the words still sounded unnatural. He wondered if he'd ever get used to the idea.
Snow.
He stopped suddenly. He'd walked this path into the woods so many times that he hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings, hadn't been expecting the white flowers to appear so soon before him.
I'm here.
It had been Grumpy's idea to plant the snowdrops. They had no materials to construct a proper headstone, but the flowers were somehow more appropriate as grave markers anyway. She'd always loved flowers.
He knelt down before the blossoms. The ground was damp, but he didn't mind; he welcomed the rain, since it kept the flowers alive. He reached out and touched one of the white petals, brushing his finger over the soft buds. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
"I miss you."
The funeral had been small, just him and the dwarves. He supposed it was lucky they'd managed to retrieve her body at all; Regina had moved into the castle the next day. But the dwarves had taken Snow, too, not wanting to leave her to Regina's mercy. It brought him some comfort to know that no one in his family was under Regina's control. They might not have each other, but at least he knew none of them were with her.
"I haven't given up," he whispered. "I know what I promised."
We can't leave her alone. One of us has to be with her.
He had to believe that Emma was still alive. There was no reason why she wouldn't be, he'd assured himself; entering another realm wasn't fatal. But maybe he only wanted to believe that because he couldn't be responsible for her death. He'd pushed her through the portal, after all.
"I wish you were here," he continued softly. "I can't do this alone. I don't know how I'm supposed to go on. It's been ten years, but it could have been yesterday-" His voice caught in his throat.
Snow was dead; Emma was gone. He'd long since deduced that it must have been the Dark One that had given Graham that magic bean, but he had no idea to what end. He'd thought about seeking him out, but the Dark One never answered his calls. Worse, Grumpy had pointed out that the Dark One probably spent his days in the cozy company of Regina, which meant that any help he might give would be tainted by the Evil Queen. Chances were, the Dark One wouldn't be able to help them at all. From what he knew about magic beans, the only person who could really know where the portal led was the one opening it. And that person was dead, too.
"I feel like I'm letting everyone down."
He didn't know that for sure, he supposed. He knew that Graham had been in the room when Regina attacked, but the dwarves said that no one else had been there when they had arrived. The rumor was that Regina destroyed everyone remaining in the castle, including children. On the good days, he could imagine that Graham had miraculously made it out of the castle alive, but most days, he had completely given up hope.
She had always admired his optimism, and now, even that was gone.
"Around the anniversary, I feel like there's this…pressure to do something," he murmured, trying to keep his voice from trembling. "But I can't – you know I can't." He felt tears prickling in his eyes.
"I'm nothing without you."
When he woke the next morning, the sun was streaming in through a high window, and it took him a few seconds to remember where he was. Arendelle. He was lying on top of a very comfortable bed, with Ghost near his feet. Graham carefully sat up, not wanting to disturb the sleeping wolf.
Despite the comfortable bed, he felt restless, like he hadn't slept at all. His dreams had been punctured by images of evil queens, wicked witches, and jewelry boxes that refused to glow. Although Anna tried to reassure him that she didn't know if the witch in Oz would count, he couldn't help but feel that she had a point. With only two beans left, he had to find Emma in the last realm he tried. He couldn't get this wrong.
But he hadn't been wrong. The jewelry box hadn't glowed in any of the realms he had tried, and it surely would have, if Emma had been there. Unless he'd missed a realm (which Anna and Elsa both agreed he hadn't), it was either Oz, or one of the worlds he'd already seen. Maybe the fact that the box retained its color in the world without color was more significant than he'd thought?
Graham pressed his face into his hands. He had been so sure that he would find Emma in one of these realms. He'd felt prepared when he'd set off: there had been a system, a plan. He wasn't just choosing worlds at random. But clearly, he had underestimated how hard this would be. And now it was Emma who would pay the price. What if he never found her?
He picked up the box from the nightstand table and examined it closely, wondering what he had missed. He'd never really studied the box carefully before, but now he could see that the box's design was intricate, with raised gold flecks that formed a heart on the cover. He traced over the heart carefully. Rumpelstiltskin had said this box was Emma's, but he had never seen it before. Who had given it to her? Looking at it, he just knew how much Emma would have loved it. It felt strange that she wouldn't have told him about the jewelry box, even if she didn't want to show it to him.
Unless she didn't have a chance.
Graham set the box back onto the nightstand, his heart pounding. He knew where Emma had gotten the box. It must have been her eighth birthday present, and he was willing to bet it was from her parents. It was the last gift they had ever given her, and she didn't even have it anymore. It felt wrong to be touching it, let alone using it to find her. It was one of the last connections to her parents that she would ever have.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Ghost's head jerked up at the sound. "Come in," Graham called.
The door opened, and Elsa entered. Unlike Anna, her hair was blond, and she kept it in a single braid that fell over her right shoulder. He had been surprised to see she was so young – when Anna said her sister was queen, he had imagined someone much older, someone Snow's age. But Elsa was barely older than he was, and with a pang, he'd realized what that meant: Anna and Elsa were orphans, too.
"Good morning," Elsa said, smiling. "Did you sleep all right?"
"Yes, thank you," Graham lied.
If Elsa knew he wasn't being honest, she didn't say anything. Instead, she brought a chair over to the edge of the bed. Graham immediately stood up – it felt wrong to be sitting in bed when speaking to the queen – but Elsa gestured for him to sit back down.
"Anna's in the library," Elsa said, offering her hand to Ghost for her to sniff. "I think she's determined to read every book in there before breakfast."
"Not on my account, I hope," Graham said, shifting uncomfortably. Over dinner, he'd talked more about Emma than he had in the last ten years combined. Anna had kept up an endless stream of questions, and whenever he tried to change the subject, she continued to press. He got the sense that his story, which seemed positively banal to him, was fascinating to Anna.
"Graham," Elsa began, as though she had sensed his discomfort. "I know my sister can be a bit…intense at times. When she wants to find something, she refuses to stop looking." He got the feeling Elsa was speaking from personal experience. "But her heart's in the right place. She truly does want to help you."
"I know," he replied. "It's just – it's been so long since I've accepted help from anyone."
"I understand," Elsa said, nodding. "There was a time, after my parents died, when I didn't want to accept help from anyone either, especially not Anna. But there are some things you just can't do alone."
Graham nodded back, thinking hard. Accepting help for something you couldn't do alone was more or less why he was searching for Emma in the first place. She was the only one who could convince Charming to stand up to Regina.
"May I?" Elsa asked, gesturing toward the jewelry box.
Graham handed it to her. He'd told them about the box's spell last night, although he'd kept the box in his pocket during dinner. He took heart in the fact that both Anna and Elsa had at least heard of putting spells on objects to make them glow when they were near someone they were trying to locate; at least Rumpelstiltskin's method of finding Emma had a chance of working.
Elsa turned the box over in her slender fingers. "What's this for?" she asked, pointing to a slot at the edge of the circular base that Graham hadn't noticed before.
He shook his head. "No idea. This was Emma's jewelry box."
"Hm." Elsa squinted closer at the box. "You're sure it was hers? The spell will only work if it's something she owned."
"I'm sure," Graham replied.
"And in the land without magic?" Elsa asked. "Will the spell still work there?"
"I don't know," Graham answered slowly. "I hadn't thought of that." His stomach turned uncomfortably. Would Rumpelstiltskin have given him a box that could only glow in certain realms? Had he known that the box would never glow in the land without magic, even if Emma was there?
Why can't that damn imp ever just say what he means?
"I was thinking about what you said last night," Elsa began, handing the box back to him. "About not being able to go back without Emma." It had been a response to another of Anna's questions, her wanting to know what the stakes were, what would happen if he went back without finding Emma. Charming wouldn't fight, for one thing; for another, Regina would probably kill him. Going back without Emma was not an option.
"I know you have two beans left," Elsa continued. "One for the last realm you try, and the other to get back home. But I just want you to know…" she paused, hesitant. Graham stayed quiet. "If you don't find her in Oz or wherever you try next, I just want you to know that you will always be welcome here in Arendelle. If you – if you don't want to go back to the Enchanted Forest."
Graham swallowed hard. He wanted to say that he was grateful for Elsa's kindness, and that he truly appreciated the offer. But the thought of not finding Emma, of having to give up on ever finding her again, was almost more than he could bear.
"Don't worry, Graham," Elsa said quietly, as though she had read his thoughts. "You're going to find her."
"Really?" he couldn't help but ask. "How can you be so sure?"
Elsa smiled softly. "When you love someone…you will always find them."
A/N: And since we all know Graham loves Emma, I can promise that he will be finding her really soon (read: next chapter). In the meantime, I'd love to hear your thoughts in the form of a review. Have a wonderful month, everyone!
