Author's Note: It's been a long time between updates, I know. But I'm hoping my lovely readers will forgive me, with this chapter: by far the longest so far, and my first time ever venturing into the Fairy Tale side of OUAT fanfiction. Enjoy.
Chapter Nine: Abigail
It was supposed to have fixed everything. Bringing Frederick back. Breaking his curse. Restoring their love, his safety, her happiness. Relieving her father's guilt. Repairing that relationship, broken by the fact that her father had never been the same, never been able to quite look her in the eye, no matter how many times she had told him that she didn't blame him.
It was supposed to fix everything, And she'd thought it would, thought it had. After James had so heroically brought the enchanted water to her, after it had broken Frederick's curse, after she was with her love one more, everything was as it should be.
That is, until they had made it back to her father's castle, after having sent James off on his journey to find Snow White. She had practically skipped into the chamber that she had known her father would be in, attending to the day's final meetings with his advisors.
Midas had looked up, startled - the version of Abigail he was seeing was one that he hadn't seen in many months, a lighter, happier Abigail, a giggling girl, delighted with life. She hadn't been that way, that lovely, exuberant, wide-eyed, innocent girl since before Frederick had -
And then, impossibly, Frederick had followed his daughter into the chamber.
Her father had fallen silent, stunned. He was staring at Frederick, disbelievingly, and with her joy colouring all that she saw, she failed to read her father's response properly, giddily jumping around like a prepubescent, foolish girl.
"It was James, Daddy!" she thrilled, "I asked Prince James for help, and he agreed. He ventured to Lake Nostos for me, and Daddy, he survived, and he brought back the enchanted waters from the lake, and I poured it on Frederick, and he's back, my love is back..."
Frederick smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. Watching Midas in a way that Abigail wasn't, he could see that something was wrong. "Abby," he murmured, chiding, trying to calm her in a way that only he had ever been capable of.
His talent for calming her, however, had always been good for getting her out of rages, not the kind of joy that bubbled, and for one small moment, she paid her love no mind, wanting her father to know what the neighbouring prince had done for her, the debt she now felt she owed him, the kind of debt that would never be fully paid, regardless of how he would surely claim otherwise.
"James is a hero, Daddy. I don't understand how he did it - no one has ever survived the lake's demon before, but he somehow defeated it, like he defeated that monstrous dragon, and he gave Frederick back to me. We must do something for him, honour him... We must align with him to defeat the evil Queen Regina and reunite him with..."
"Abigail!" Frederick bit off, sharply, wary of how much they should tell her father. Unfortunately, his scolding came too late for Abigail's words to not catch her father's attention.
"Reunite him?" Midas tried, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. "With whom? What of your betrothal?"
Abigail's glow diminished as she blinked up at her father, confused. "Daddy, I'm not going to marry James, of course. Frederick is back! I'm going to be with him as I'd always planned, as we'd always planned."
"But my deal with George..."
"There is no deal with King George anymore! We've ended the engagement. James is in love with another, and I wish him all the happiness in the world, as I will have, with Frederick! You cannot force a marriage upon us that neither of us want, especially now that Frederick's back. I can marry him, Daddy. I can be happy! We can all be happy again... You are happy, aren't you?"
Forcing a smile to his face, Midas looked down at his papers, glanced at his advisors, looked anywhere that wasn't his daughter, or the one he had been so sure for so long that he had killed.
"Of course, my darling girl," Midas muttered, his voice joyless, bitterly contradicting his words. "Whatever makes you happy. It pleases me to have you back in the kingdom, Frederick."
Frederick glanced at Abigail, who was staring at her father, blank, and suddenly mute. Barely loud enough to be heard, he murmured, "Thank you, Your Majesty. It is an honour to be back."
"Indeed. But now, I must ask that the two of you take your leave. I have further business I need to attend to with council."
Having found her voice, and her notorious temper, Abigail snapped. "It's Frederick's first night back Daddy! We must celebrate, we must call for some fine wine and..."
Frederick placed a hand on Abigail's lower back and began steering her from the room. "It is not necessary. I am feeling quite tired and stiff anyway. I think that lying down would be the best thing for me now."
"Of course," Midas responded, carefully. "Have one of the maids prepare you chambers. Mistress Serafina would be honoured, I am sure," as he spared a glance for the young woman placing down a plate of cheeses and breads before Midas' council.
"Of course. I would be delighted to. Follow me, if you please, Sir Frederick, Princess Abigail."
"But -"
"Leave it alone," Frederick hissed in his beloved's ear. "Something's wrong, we must go."
Walking out of the chamber, Frederick stopping just short of dragging her, Abigail choked back a sob.
It was supposed to have fixed everything, bringing her love, her kingdom's hero back to them. She was supposed to have gotten the two most important people in her life back.
But somehow, she'd finally realized, she'd only gotten one.
She'd never given up on Frederick. Not once. She had kissed his statue, his golden tomb, until her lips had bled, just as she had told James. When that had failed - and that it could have bewildered her, True Love's Kiss was supposed to break every curse - she had begun searching for other miracles, other magic. Upon learning of the existence of Lake Nostos, of its legendary powers, she'd determined that its waters were the solution, but knew that she herself could never defeat its demon.
Thinking of how she had manipulated James still haunted her to this day. She'd never repay the debt she owed him, regardless of how many times he told her otherwise. He'd gotten everything he'd wanted out of the deal, he'd insist. They both had. He had no regrets, and neither should she, he'd tell her.
Snow had never agreed, Abigail remembered with a fond smile. The raven haired beauty had flown into a fury when she had been told that particular story, a fury born of fear. James, stubborn as ever, had reassured her that there was nothing to be concerned for, he'd escaped unharmed, and besides - that slightly cocky note entering his voice - he'd faced, and won, against much more fearsome beasts than a simple Siren.
Snow's eyes had turned to slits.
"I know of the Siren of Lake Nostos, Charming. Rather than simply bewitching, or seducing, as most creatures of that ilk tend to, the Nostos water demon transforms into that which is wanted most by its would-be attacker. It's why no one had ever survived before. The illusion of one's greatest desire is a powerfully tempting one."
Abigail had glanced between the pair, who were locked into a staring contest of which it seemed there would never be a winner. "I'd never known that," she'd gasped, interrupting. "I didn't know the creature was so powerful."
Neither Snow or James had paid Abigail any mind. They were both distracted by watching each other. "What happened when you faced the demon, Charming?"
James finally looked away, a slight flush having overtaken his handsome features, amazing Abigail. She'd never, ever known the confident prince to be embarrassed... but then again, she'd never seen him with Snow before.
James swallowed. "It turned into you," he whispered. "And it was a very... seductive illusion. It told me..."
The look on Snow's face had softened, somehow, where Abigail would have expected more rage.
"Told you what, Charming?"
"It told me it - you - loved me," he sighed, "And given everything that had happened between us... it was so easy to fall for its spell, so easy to just trust that everything I wanted most was finally happening. I wanted so badly to believe you loved me, that to hear your voice say it..."
Snow was staring at James like she never wanted to allow him out of her sight again. "How... how in the world did you escape?"
James smiled then, his love for Snow so obvious in his eyes, in his whole expression that it almost felt indecent for Abigail to look upon it, and though she wanted to look away, she felt transfixed by the look being exchanged by the two.
"I figured out it wasn't real," he murmured. "The creature could tell me everything I wanted to hear with your voice, could look exactly like you, but it wasn't you. It wasn't love, wasn't what I'd felt when it *was* you, was us. And I needed *that*, what I felt when it was you, what I feel when I look at you know. Once I figured that out... I was able to fight, to kill the thing and escape, when no one ever had. Because I figured out what was real, while all the others didn't. And Snow, you're the only thing that's ever been real to me."
Snow's eyes had filled with tears, but the blinding smile that took over her whole face belayed the emotion behind them.
"And you knew that even then, when I had so recently told you I didn't love you."
"Yes. I think that's actually how I was able to figure out the Siren wasn't really you, was able to escape. It kept telling me it loved me, but when it didn't feel right, didn't feel the same... I realized that it was love when I was with you, and that we both were part of it. I knew then I had to escape, to go after you, fight for *you*, not the illusion of you. Because I suddenly understood that when you told me you didn't love me, that was the only real lie you'd ever told me - the only one I'd actually fallen for, anyway. I couldn't realize it until then, but I'd felt it when you showed up, and I ran to you... you held on so tight, so desperately..."
"I never wanted to let go. I was so desperate, but I couldn't think of another way to keep you safe. I hurt us both so badly..."
"Hey, it's alright. Whatever we went through, it got us here."
"I just can't bare to think of you in danger. Even in the past."
"Ah. Well, I won't tell you the part when I had to face the sorceress Maleficent in her dragon form then."
Abigail had begun tiptoeing away, shamed to have not left earlier. This moment did not involve her, hadn't for some time.
Though, the indignant shriek heard behind her did send her flying into a fit of giggles. Prince James would certainly have his hands full with the lovely, protective, warrior princess Snow White.
They'd settled down for supper a few short hours later, and Abigail had felt Snow's stare upon her the entire time they'd eaten. Snow had calmed with James, and if anything, the affection between them had only grown stronger. But, Abigail knew, as she finally plucked up the courage to look up and stare right back at Snow, the other princess had unfinished business with herself.
She'd excused herself quickly after finishing her meal, insisted that Frederick - deep in conversation with James - did not need to accompany her, she was perfectly fine on her own for a little while. She had wandered down to the gardens, some of the most stunning in the kingdom, per James' insistence (Snow was so used to living amongst nature, he would not have anything less than a beautiful garden for Snow to spend her days in, should she wish). Finding a bench shortly into her exploration, she sat down to wait.
Snow did not leave her waiting long.
"Snow," Abigail welcomed, pointing out the seat next to her, a cautious smile on her face. "Please, sit with me."
Snow received the greeting with one eyebrow raised, but took the seat offered. "You knew I would seek you out, to speak with you alone."
"Yes," Abigail agreed.
"You knew I was unhappy with you."
"I did."
"And yet you did not avoid me." Snow's words were not a question.
"No. I didn't. We needed to speak. I owe you that much. There was no sense in delaying the inevitable"
"Earns you points though."
Abigail sighed. "We both know any points I may have gained by not avoiding this discussion will be lost quickly to the topic of it. You are angry with me, and you have every right to be."
"You manipulated him." Snow's accusation was biting, quick and to the point, and stung all the more for it.
Abigail found that she could not hide her wince. "I did."
The shock Snow felt at how easily Abigail admitted it showed in her eyes, but she pressed on, determined. "He can't see that. He trusted you so easily, he couldn't - can't - see how you were using him."
Abigail looked away, not wanting the other princess to see the shame in her eyes. "Honourable men are often easily manipulated, I've found."
Snow closed her eyes in tacit agreement. "And James is as honourable as they come."
"He is. Probably the best man I've ever met."
The fire in Snow's eyes sparked. "And you sent him into a situation in which you knew there was a possibility, hell you probably expected that he would be killed."
"He had defeated the dragon plaguing my kingdom. I knew that he was more likely than any other to survive..."
"That doesn't answer me."
"I didn't expect him to be killed. I never would have let him go if I did..."
"Semantics. Did you expect him to survive, to return, to succeed?"
Abigail bit her bottom lip. She wanted desperately to be completely honest with Snow, but in order to do that, she needed to admit something she hadn't, even to herself.
"No," she whispered. "I was amazed when he made it back. Amazed, and so grateful, Snow, you have to believe that. I will never be able to repay the debt I owe him..."
"No. You won't."
At the sharpness in Snow's voice, Abigail tensed, and fell silent. Snow's glare felt as though it would pierce right through her, until the younger woman sighed, and looked away.
Abigail looked up then, to find that Snow was staring into the rose bushes, and she sensed that the other woman was unable to look at her any longer. This instinct felt worse than the glare had, and the biting sting of her own shame intensified.
"You didn't mean for him to die. But you had accepted that he likely would anyway, in attempt to save your beloved?" The flatness in Snow's voice was audible, and Abigail shuddered to think of herself in Snow's place, trying to understand a situation in which another woman had placed her beloved in harm's way.
Abigail swallowed, then looked Snow directly in the eye. "Yes. Yes, to all of it. I had gotten enough of a sense of James to know that he is one of the best people I would ever have the opportunity to know. I know that men who are that good, that honourable, can easily be manipulated into doing what they believe is the 'right' thing. I knew if I told him Frederick's story, told him of a possible solution, that he would volunteer to venture on the quest to obtain that solution. I knew of the risks. I knew it was unlikely that he would succeed, that no one had survived Nostos before. I was desperate enough to get him to go anyway. I valued Frederick's life more than James'. And because he made it back, because he did succeed, I am sorry Snow, but I do not regret it."
Snow slowly let out the breath she had been holding as Abigail spoke, then buried her head in her hands. "Okay," she murmured, the sound muffled.
Abigail froze, and turned to stare at the other woman. "Okay?"
Pulling her head back up, Snow returned Abigail's stare. "Okay. Look, I could hate you all I want for the danger you allowed James to put himself in, but I'm not a big fan of being a hypocrite. And if it came down to saving James... there is nothing I wouldn't do. Nothing I wouldn't sacrifice. He's everything. And if that's how you feel about Frederick, then I am rather limited in my ability to judge you."
"That's fairer than I deserve."
"Don't get me wrong, Abigail," Snow continued, "I hate that you allowed him to put himself in danger, but the fact is, he did put himself in danger. He did what he believed was the right thing, and when he gets 'the right thing' in his head, there's nothing and no one that could have stopped him. He's just that guy."
"You could have stopped him," Abigail contradicted gently.
"What?"
"You have to remember, at the time, he truly believed you when you had told him you didn't love him. It wasn't until after - or I guess during - his encounter with the Siren that he understood the truth. He was... he was heartbroken, Snow. And I'm ashamed to admit, I used that, used the fact that he was so lost... giving him a quest, a challenge, something to think about that wasn't you... it was an opportunity he grasped onto. But I have no doubt he wouldn't have taken the risk if he'd known the truth about you at the time. He wouldn't have done that to you, wouldn't have wanted to cause you fear for a second. The *only* reason he went for me, is because he didn't know he would have had you waiting for him."
"I hate that I hurt him so."
"I don't understand... why did you?"
"That's between James and I. You only need know that it was a lie. I have loved him from the day I met him. To this day, I love him more than anything or anyone else. His safety is the most important thing to me, the only thing more important than his happiness."
"Than you truly must understand how I feel about Frederick."
"Yes. I will always hate that James was in danger. But I can't hate you for it. Not when I so understand the sentiment behind being willing to do anything for another person."
Abigail smiled, still carefully, but with more warmth to it than before. "So we're okay, then? Perhaps we could try at being friends?"
Snow stood to leave, her omnipresent smirk prominent on her face. "Stranger things have happened. As far as nags with bad attitudes go, I've met far worse."
Abigail's jaw dropped, amused. "Excuse me?"
Snow laughed, then began walking away. "If James hasn't told you, I'm not going to. Secrets between betrothed couples, you know how it is," she called over her shoulder.
Abigail lifted a hand in farewell, still bemused. "I should," she muttered, far too quietly for Snow to possibly have heard.
Prince James had come to be something of a brother to her, against all odds. And with him, his beautiful fiancee Snow had become the sister-in-law she'd never realized she'd enjoy having. The relationship was a strange one, as it must be for all sisters-in-law, she supposed. There was a fondness there, but with it, an uncertainty, something of a discomfort. Snow had forgiven the events that began Abigail's friendship with James, but she had never forgotten them, never would.
It was a quality that Snow shared with James, both having a desperate terror of harm coming to the other; both traumatized by the memories and stories of past situations where they had been unable to protect their love. James had been unable to so much as stomach apples being brought into the castle, and so Snow had developed a new fondness for peaches. Snow left the room every time the story of Frederick's rescue was brought up, James always following quickly after. They comforted each other, they supported each other, and they protected each other. They had each other's backs, always. And if it came right down to it, they would each willingly die for the other.
Abigail had never seen anything quite like it. Oh, she knew love, knew it well... But the Princess Snow White and Prince James were made for each other like no one she'd ever known, no one she'd ever even heard of. They both valued the other more than their own safety, own well-being. They'd sacrifice anything, even themselves, to keep the one they loved safe.
She could barely comprehend the courage inherent to such a love. They were, without a doubt, the two bravest people she'd ever met.
She wanted, very much, to live up to their example.
Things between she and her father had remained strained, at best. She had, probably naively she now realized, believed that saving Frederick would alleviate his guilt for everything that had happened, and their relationship would be restored to be as warm and loving as it once was, as magically as the enchanted waters dripping down Frederick, bring him back.
It hadn't happened. Midas would still not look her in the eye, and he barely had anything to do with Frederick at all. He'd granted permission for Frederick to rejoin the guard through the Head of the Command, by proxy. He hadn't even attended the ceremony re-knighting her beloved, and this snub had hurt them both deeply. James and Snow had made the effort to attend, and they weren't even of the kingdom. But her father... he'd been busy, he'd said. He was always busy, these days. Didn't have time for her the way he once did. During one of the rare moments she'd been able to speak with her father - eye contact not involved - he'd told her that the collapse of the negotiations with King George (her fault, was the clear implication) had been detrimental to their kingdom, more so than she could possibly understand.
That had stung.
So he'd been busy with his council, attending to other matters, other possible mergers, opportunities with kingdoms with access to plentiful resources - Midas's powers, after all, only allowed his kingdom an unlimited supply of gold, which, while valuable, was far from everything. He'd been too busy with these discussions to make time for a silly, frivolous little ceremony. So he'd said.
That would have been more understandable if the majority of council members hadn't been at the ceremony, the way they were.
They were a loyal bunch, council, Abigail supposed, and technically brilliant on matters of policy. Actually dealing with people, and their politics - all there was to life at court, basically - on the other hand, was not their strong suit. The King proclaims he can't possibly make time to stand on ceremony, for he has meetings with council to attend to, and council promptly goes and shows up for the ceremony without him.
It was enough to make Abigail want to laugh hysterically. If she didn't feel the need to cry more.
She couldn't have it. Couldn't stand for her relationship with her father, her Daddy to go on this way. She had to fix it. Had to, for herself, and for Frederick.
She had to be brave. Like Snow and James.
There was nothing to fear anyway, she figured.
The waters of Lake Nostos weren't protected anymore.
She knew the paths to the enchanted lake better than the back of her hand. She'd ventured out here, many times, long before she'd ever told James of its possibilities. She'd never entered the lake herself, of course - knowing her own limits, she could never have survived it, never have defeated the guardian of the lake. But she'd venture just shy of its shores, and stare at the waters, wanting and wondering; and leave frustrated, wishing for more strength, more courage, or wishing for a friend who had both.
She wasn't so limited now. Now, it would simply be a matter of taking the waters for her own use. The difficult part would be getting her father to take it. Perhaps she could just dump it on him, she supposed, it worked on Frederick. Wouldn't go over well... but if it worked, and he became her Dad again, he'd find it hilarious.
They once laughed together all the time.
It was with this thought in mind, that Abigail arrived at the monument paying homage to the guardian of the lake. Paying it no mind - it was no longer necessary, after all - Abigail walked straight past it to the waters, as James once had.
It was stranger than she would have expected it to be at the lake, darker, more mystical, more frightening. She'd assumed the death of the Siren would have cleared the fog that she walked through now. Goosebumps broke out on her skin, though she wasn't at all cold. Known magic, she figured - she must be able to sense the enchantment of this place.
No sense delaying, however, and letting the air of the place creep her out. She drew a chalice from her bag, and immediately scooped some of the lake's waters into it. Simple, uncomplicated. She let out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding.
The water moved, rippled around her. It didn't make any sense, but someone was walking toward her.
She froze, more frightened than she could remember ever being, even when her family had fallen victim to attack, even when she'd watched her fiance slowly - so damn slowly - turn to gold.
Abigail looked up, terrified.
And found herself, for the first time in many months, staring straight into the eyes of her father.
"Abigail," he murmured, so gently. "What are you doing?"
It was incomprehensible that he should be here. He so rarely left the castle at all anymore, and when he did, it was for meetings. This? This didn't make any sense. Her father looked so out of place here, she half wanted to giggle, half wanted to cry. He shouldn't be here.
"Daddy? How are you here?"
Her voice had shrunk, sounded like a little girl's. She hated it.
"My darling girl," he chided. She startled - he hadn't called her that, the loving, childhood nickname, since before everything had happened with Frederick. "Where else was I going to be, sweetheart? It's my job to protect you, keep you safe. I'm always going to be there for you."
At that, her eyes filled with tears. "But you haven't been, Daddy! I've needed you. All this time, I've needed you, and you were gone... there, but not, and I'd already lost Frederick. I couldn't handle losing my father too, but you weren't there anymore. All that time, I mourned Frederick without you. And then I brought him back, and all was as it should be, and STILL you weren't there."
Midas's wise eyes were regretful as he watched her. "I know. I failed you, darling, and it shames me terribly. If I could go back and change things then... but we can change things now, yes? That's why we're here. We can fix this, right now, standing in these waters."
He reached out his hands to her. She watched him, made note of the sincerity, the hope in his eyes. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she sighed, softly, bourn of relief. She'd waited for this moment for so long, and as little sense as it made that it should happen here, now, she wasn't going to complain. She reached out, and took her father's hands in her own.
"There's a good girl," he said with a smile, but there was something sinister to it, and it disturbed her, as she suddenly withdrew her hands and retreated a step.
"ABIGAIL!" the scream came from behind her, but she didn't turn to look, she was staring at her father's eyes, but they weren't her father's anymore, and she wanted to scream, and suddenly he was pushing her, and when she fell back into the lake and went to scream she was swallowing water before she could take a breath, and she was under water, gloved hand around her ankle, and she was going to die here, killed by the one who was her father but wasn't.
She surfaced, and it bewildered her that she could have, because the monster that had been her father had been holding her down. She gasped for air, and blinked water out of her eyes, and when she could see again, her father was no longer there, and nor was the shadow that had consumed him.
Snow White was standing in the lake before her, arms spread out protectively, white flowing dress soaked through and billowing in the violent wind, and Abigail had the errant thought that she looked like an avenging angel. She was staring at two figures, an older man, balding, and a woman, far younger, with wild curls so red they approached scarlet, and eyes a vibrant green, the kind of eyes that pierced right through you when used for a glare, and Abigail had experienced that exact glare enough from the raven haired woman protecting her, to know, just know that she was somehow, inexplicably, looking at Snow White's parents.
"Snow," the woman gasped, "You've grown so. You're so beautiful, so perfect."
"Stop," Snow responded, her tone wary, pained. "This isn't real. I know that, so don't bother trying."
"But it is real," the man, King Leopold, replied. "You can see us, we're right here. All is as it should be, little one. We are here, we are with you, and there is nothing to fear anymore."
"There is always something to fear," Snow cried, desperate. "You, this, George, Regina..."
"You don't need to fear Regina any longer," Leopold said, his arm waving above the water, and he was commanding it somehow, controlling it, and from the depths arose a shadow of the Evil Queen. She appeared to be younger, softer than Abigail had ever known her to be in any of her court appearances; her eyes alight with love and laughter as she walked with a man Abigail had never seen before.
"You see?" Leopold asked, softly. "We fixed it, my perfect child, fixed everything. She is with Daniel. All is as it should have always been. Regina is happy and has no more hatred in her heart. And your mother and I are here, will always be here. We'll be at your wedding, just as we always hoped. We're so proud of you, little one, and so pleased with the man you have chosen to be your..."
"This isn't possible," Snow cried out, eyes wild, darting between her parents and the remnants of the shadow, disappearing back into the depths of the lake.
"This is magic, Snow," the red-haired woman corrected, her voice lyrical, haunting, as she walked towards her daughter, her husband following behind her. "And magic can do anything," she murmured, as she reached out to bring her child into the embrace she'd longed for for many years.
Snow began leaning into the embrace, getting as close to her parents as possible, before she looked into her mother's eyes and sobbed.
"Magic can't do this."
And Abigail didn't have time to scream, before Snow had pulled a knife from somewhere and shoved it deep into the heart of her mother, and the figures of Snow White's parents disappeared into nothingness.
Abigail was crying, yelling nonsensically, and Snow was screaming at her to move, finally dragging her by the arm, out of the waters, out of the lake, and still she kept running, pulling Abigail stumbling in her wake, until they were past the tribute to the guardian of the lake, and Snow finally let her go. Abigail fell to the ground in a heap, while Snow leaned back against a tree, grasping desperately for something to hold onto, something solid, something anchoring her to the earth, to this life, to something she could believe in until she could get her bearings back.
Finally, after a few minutes of silence only interrupted by Abigail's dry heaving and Snow's gasping for breath and occasional sobs, the two women both regained some semblance of control, and began walking away, back towards Snow and James' castle. By the time they turned to look at each other, Snow's expression was one of violent rage.
"What in the name of the Gods were you thinking?" Snow snarled.
"I, I, I thought the lake was safe now. I needed its waters to bring my father back to me, to restore the relationship we'd lost, to fix things, like it fixed Frederick, and... I don't understand what happened there, the Siren was dead, James killed it!" Abigail cried.
"And you thought that waters that powerful, that enchanted would just leave themselves unprotected, free for the taking?"
"I didn't..."
"Sirens are born of the waters they inhabit, Abigail! Lake Nostos is pure, dangerous, deadly magic, the kind that was never going to leave itself unprotected. Killing one siren doesn't make a lake like that suitable for afternoon swims, it just gives you time to escape before another can rise from its depths! James killed *one* guardian, he didn't suck the magic out of the damn lake! We're lucky we made it out alive."
"I didn't... Snow, I didn't know it worked like that."
"No you didn't know how the lake worked, and you clearly didn't pay attention when James and I were discussing the Siren either. I told you that the guardian of Lake Nostos is imbued with the power to take the form of what its foe wants most. Your father magically shows up in its waters, and you just cheerfully go right to it!"
"So did you!" Abigail yelled, fury rising in response to Snow's.
"To kill the damn thing, Abigail! Because *I* knew what I was dealing with. You did not. You were too naive to understand the danger you were putting yourself in. You never should have come here, and you are damn lucky that I noticed something was off with you this morning and tracked you here, because otherwise you'd be dead at the bottom of that godforsaken lake right now!"
"Yes, hurrah for my savior, the brave, the perfect, the fearless Snow White," Abigail snapped.
"Brave? Perfect? Fearless? Don't be ridiculous. I had to follow you to the scene of some of my worse nightmares, the place where I almost lost James, the place where he almost died, murdered by a figure with my face. Then to get you out, I get to deal with watching a Siren split and transform into my dead parents. Oh yeah, I was perfect and fearless in those moments alright!"
Abigail stopped in her tracks, turned to stare at Snow. "How... how did you keep from falling for the illusion? It's not like the Sirens of Lake Nostos are not convincing. It fooled me, it convinced James for long enough to nearly kill him... but you were able to keep your mind clear enough to kill one."
Snow looked away, deep into the forest. "The Siren could take the shape of what I most desired all it wanted," she muttered, "It still couldn't change the facts, and my knowledge of them. No magic can bring back the dead."
"That you know of," came a voice from the shadows. The following jarring little giggle, sounding from out of no where sent Abigail - still on edge - cowering behind Snow, while her friend took on an immediately protective stance, not at all unlike the one she had taken in the lake.
Rumplestilskin was suddenly standing before them.
While Abigail recoiled further at the sight of the imp, Snow relaxed her protective stance, though continued to watch Rumplestilskin shrewdly. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her irritated tone making it perfectly clear that she wasn't in the mood for joking around.
"Oh just what I said, dearie. You said no magic can bring back the dead and I said... oh, well, that you're wrong."
Snow walked towards Rumplestilskin, away from Abigail, who tensed noticeably. "Snow..." she whispered .
"It's alright Abigail," Snow said, not so much as glancing back at her as she continued to not take her eyes off of the imp for a second. "Rumplestilskin's not going to hurt us. That's not his game, is it?"
Rumplestilskin's eyes, as much as they were capable of, lit with amusement. "Always a clever princess. No, I'm not going to hurt you, dearies. Where would the fun be in that?"
Snow smirked, amusement mixing with concern. She didn't fear Rumplestilskin - was perhaps one of the few who didn't, and thankfully that had always seemed to entertain him somehow, rather than anger him. His words, on the other hand, she knew could be terribly dangerous.
"No fun at all, one would think. So tell me then, Rumplestilskin. What game are we playing today?"
"Why must it always be a game?" Rumplestilskin asked, arms spread wide, playing at innocence. "Perhaps I just wanted to stop for a lovely chat with dear friends."
Snow smiled, but Abigail could see the dangerous edge to it. "It's never that simple with you. And I'm tired, and want to get home. So let's cut to the chase, 'dearie'. How can any magic bring someone back from the dead? It's always been believed to be impossible."
"Ah, and so it always has been. Until now, you see. Because no one before had ever been able to bottle the most powerful magic of all."
"And what magic would that be?"
"Why, true love, of course!" Rumplestilskin exclaimed, hands clasped together, eyes blinking rapidly, in a grotesque, facetious impersonation of one in love. "With true love, dearie, one can do anything."
Snow rolled her eyes, not in the mood, and fully prepared to walk away from this conversation, once she'd asked one last question, for curiosity's sake. "And how did you manage this great accomplishment?"
Rumplestilskin grinned, evilly, and Abigail could not for the life of her understand how Snow could be so unafraid of him.
"By combining the hairs of the only two people I've ever seen who had it."
Snow froze in place, and Abigail shuddered, horrified. The look on Snow's face...
The bravest woman she'd ever known was finally frightened.
"That's what you wanted my hair for," Snow stated, her voice intentionally devoid of emotion. "You thought you could use it for this?"
"Oh, not thought, dearie. Knew."
"How did you get one of James' hairs?"
"I plucked it off his cloak, which I gained from him in another bargain. He gave it up rather easily, was so desperate to get to you, when you went off on your murderous quest against the Queen. It was very... shall I say... charming?"
Unthinking, Snow lunged at the imp, which he deftly, easily avoided. With another giggle, he appeared again behind her, closer to Abigail, who dove away, back with Snow between her and Rumplestilskin.
"Let's not get a temper!" Rumplestilskin chided, "We're all still friends here!"
"Why me? Why James? You could have used anyone..."
"Well... No I couldn't! You forget what I said! You and your prince 'Charming' were the only people I've ever seen who had true love, and when I saw it... well, you know me, dearie. I had to possess it."
"Don't be ridiculous," Snow snapped, "True love is everywhere. You just used James and I for your own entertainment."
"Ah, ah. ah," the imp replied, "Simple love... or lust, or affection, or something that feels like is everywhere. True love is not. And you once said so yourself! To your own love, ironically enough! 'True love... it doesn't exist'"
Snow's eyes widened. "How can you know that?"
"Oh, there is very little I don't know, dearie. Let's not trouble ourselves with the mechanics of how. But you're a bright girl, and what you said was true... almost. But do not fret the mistake, for at the time, I would have agreed with you! But something about the two of you together, we'll say captured my imagination. And triumph for it! For true love blossomed, the first time I had ever seen it, and the two of you, so affected, so blinded by it... well, you both just handed what I needed to bottle it right to me!"
Snow seemed speechless, and with her sudden inability to speak, Abigail just barely gained back her own voice, as she stared at the imp. "I don't understand," she whispered, "How can true love be so rare? So many of us have it. I have it."
"Oh, no you don't, dearie," Rumplestilskin responded, dismissively.
"Excuse me?" Abigail snapped, fury making her voice stronger.
"You may have love, I'll give you that. But it's not true love. True love is love in its purest form, it is magic. There is no flaw to it, nothing can interfere, nothing stands in its way. True love connects two people unconditionally, forever, and it is a bond, a link, that nothing, not distance, not time, not other feelings can break."
"And I have that!"
"Really? Nothing standing in your love's way? Daddy issues, perhaps?"
Abigail stared at him mutely.
"You may love your Frederick, young Abigail, but it is not true love, not when your confusion about how his unfortunate little accident has changed your relationship with your father is standing in the way. Did you not wonder why 'true love's kiss' never worked? It's supposed to be able to break any curse, but it failed you, over and over again, did it not? It's because it's not true love between you. Simple love, perhaps. Innocent, and sweet. But not true, dearie. Never true. Yours is a love that can be broken, that could end. Yours is mere emotion, not magic. But our lovely princess over here," he beamed, pointing out Snow, "Oh, she has the magic. And now so do I! Ahahahaha!"
"And this magic," Snow sighed, "It can bring back the dead?"
"This magic," Rumplestilskin grinned, "It could do anything."
"Then what do you intend to do with it?"
"Oh, I don't know yet, dearie. I'm sure I'll come up with something fun. But fear not! As powerful as the magic is for me... it is, sadly for me, even more powerful in its natural body, between you and your prince. You've seen its effects already! True love can break any curse, and it's because of that, that you still stand here before me today. But it can do more... so much more. Remember what I said, dearie. True love cannot be broken, not by distance, time, nor death... or lives. You will always, no matter what, have that love with you." Rumplestilskin stared intensely at Snow, his voice almost hypnotic. "Remember. True love carries, it crosses all. Regardless of what life you may find yourself in. You and your love will be forever. Remember."
And with that one last, cryptic comment, the imp vanished into thin air.
Snow was staring blankly at the space which Rumplestilskin had disappeared from, emotionally shaken. Abigail was faring little better, as she tried to get herself stable on her feet, unable to keep from shivering. "Snow," she whispered.
It was enough to bring the raven-haired princess back to attention. "We have to get back," she snapped, volatile. "We have to get back right now."
For once, Abigail proceeded without arguing, jogging away alongside her. She found herself with the odd thought that today was the first day she had engaged in any such kind of exercise. Running, she'd always figured, was not at all ladylike.
She'd been frightened enough by the day's events that running now seemed perfectly acceptable. Escaping, more like. She wanted to get as far away from the lake and the woods that housed it as quickly as possible.
She still had questions, however, and was determined to gain some answers during the voyage back to Snow's home. "I don't understand what happened here today," she started.
"Join the club," Snow snapped, "We've got rapidly increasing membership for it."
"Snow," Abigail reasoned, "You must know that he had to have been lying to us. None of what he said is possible."
"You don't know the imp, Abigail! You think he made that all up for the fun of it? Rumplestilskin does nothing, says nothing without a reason for it! Every word he says is imbued with meaning, and Gods, he does not lie. Tricks and manipulates, but does not lie. You have no idea the kind of danger we must now be in."
"So explain it to me!"
"I need James," Snow gasped.
"I'm the one who was with you for all of..."
"I need James!" Snow snarled. "You cannot understand any of this. I barely do, and I am in it! There are things between James and I, things you do not know, things you will never know. He and I are bound so deep you cannot comprehend it, and now Rumplestilskin has abused that to form what sounds like the most powerful potion in the realm, and my fiance has no idea! So, no. No, Abigail, you do not get to be the one I talk to about this!"
Abigail's retort got caught in her throat as she caught a glimpse of Snow's stricken face. This was not, she realized, the time to push her friend, for this is the first time she has ever seen her truly disturbed. She reached out a hand, intending to comfort her, when both women were distracted.
"Snow!"
Snow spun around immediately at the call, recognizing James' voice in a second, and without hesitation, she ran to him, leaping into his embrace as he reached out and caught her. "Charming," she sobbed, and both Abigail and James were alarmed to see that she was crying.
"My darling," James murmured, "What on earth happened? I was so worried..." James looked over to eye Abigail suspiciously, just as Frederick walked over to join her.
"We were both frightened, Abby," Frederick commented, taking Abigail's hands in his own. "When we received the messenger Snow had sent, letting us know that you had left without telling anyone, without a guard or assistance, and that she was concerned and would be setting out immediately to track you... Abby, what were you thinking? Where did you go?"
Abigail swallowed. "I ventured to Lake Nostos." She winced at James' pained groan, realizing that he, like Snow, immediately understood the danger of that decision, where she naively had not. "I thought that the waters would be safe now, after James had killed the Siren, and that I could take some to fix things with Daddy. I didn't realize... I didn't know that another Siren would have risen... Snow saved my life."
James stroked a curl of Snow's hair, trying to keep his own horror off his face in favour of keeping calm for Snow. "How could you go there without telling me, Snow?"
"There wasn't time," she cried, "I didn't know where Abigail had gone, just that she didn't seem herself and I worried for her, which is why I sent the messenger behind to let you know. By the time I realized where her tracks lead, there was no way I could do anything but go in after her. I feared I'd be too late... I nearly was. The Siren had taken the shape of her father, and had lured her in enough that it had been able to attack. The only reason it stopped was it got distracted by me when I threw myself in front of her, and I..."
James closed his eyes in realization. "You had more appeal to it."
Abigail stuttered, "How so?"
"Sirens are seduced by the triumph of the kill," James replied, "And so they respond most to the strong and the brave, when there's an option as to which would be the greatest kill. The courage Snow would have shown the Siren, to throw herself between you and it... that would have been very, very appealing to the Siren." He turned back to his fiancee. "What happened when turned its attack to you?"
"It turned to my parents."
James groaned, then returned a question Snow had asked him, many nights ago. "How ever did you escape?"
"I knew all along it wasn't real. It could never have fooled me, but it gave me the advantage when it split and transformed from Midas to my parents before me, when I was expecting it. You were caught off guard, when the Siren you faced transformed to me. I wasn't. I knew exactly what was going to happen, and so I was able to lure it close enough to kill it."
"My darling... even though you knew it wasn't real, to have killed something with your parents' faces, it must have been torture."
"It was hard," Snow agreed, "But not impossible, just as it wasn't when you were able to kill the Siren that had impersonated me. Once you've accepted that it's not real, you can do it."
Frederick spoke up for the first time since Abigail had revealed what happened. "But I do not understand, James. When you told us of your encounter with the Siren, it had another form first, of another woman. How was it that Abby and Snow did not see something similar?"
"Sirens learn from their predecessors' mistakes," Snow jumped in to reply, "They are born of the enchanted waters they inhabit, and the water bears the memory of those come and lost before, so that the newborn may learn from it, and adapt. A Siren's true form is mere shadow and vapor, but as it can take the form of its foes greatest desire, so too it can create its own form. The one James faced would have been weaker, would have had to reveal itself in a form it considered generally seductive first, to give it time to greater understand its enemy, and take on the shape of his or her desire. This one would have adapted, so that it never shows that other form, rather can appear as what is desired from the moment it senses its enemy."
Abigail stared. "How can you possibly know so much about the creatures?"
Snow glared back. "The man I love was nearly killed by one. I had to know, to understand them. Unlike you, I have never had intention of throwing myself in harm's way unknowingly."
"What happened after that, my darling?" James asked, intentionally distracting his beloved from Abigail's glowering, "The Siren doesn't seem to have shaken you so... something else must have happened once you escaped?"
Snow returned James' stare, intently watching him, trying to communicate wordlessly, keep him calm as she murmured, "Rumplestilskin."
James' ice blue eyes darkened enough that Abigail, for the first time since she had known him, actually felt frightened of him.
"What. Happened?" he asked, voice only barely held in check, his tension obvious for all to see.
"We need to talk," Snow murmured in reply. "Alone."
James nodded, and without further word to Abigail or Frederick, wrapped an arm around Snow, guiding her away from them into the castle. Abigail watched them walking away, noting their stance - the way he was wrapping himself around her, as if to protect her with his body from any harm that may come to them - and felt pricks at the back of her eyes with the desire to weep. Suddenly, for the first time, she believed what Rumplestilskin had said. What she was seeing with them now was different from anything she'd ever known before. It was magic.
She turned back to Frederick then, who was still watching her. "How could you do it?" he asked, pained.
"I needed to fix things with my father. I didn't know of the danger."
"How could you not? How could you be so naive? How could you have put yourself in such a deadly situation... and force one of our dear friends into having to risk herself to save you?"
"I do not know," Abigail replied, quiet with hurt. "But thank the Gods our great and noble heroine Snow White was there to save me, yes?" Her voice had risen with sarcasm.
Frederick stared at her, then shook his head. "Yes," he muttered. "Thank the Gods for Snow."
And then, to Abigail's despair, Frederick turned and walked away from her.
With tears streaming down her face, Abigail stared down into the well. She hated the thing. Regina would have put it there for her own amusement, she figured. An access to, a reminder of the land, the life that no one remembered. The waters of Lake Nostos flowed to that well, and she shuddered and sobbed at her memories of a foolish girl who'd thought that a cup of water could fix anything. Even now, with that girl buried deep inside her long ago, she was tempted to reach in for a cup.
It was pointless.
There was no magic here.
She walked the long way to the home that 'Kathryn' and 'David' shared, filled with regrets, consumed with memories of another time. She missed her friends, missed Frederick so - Frederick's innate goodness, Snow's courage, and James' bravery; the way that all three of them always seemed to know the right thing to do. She longed for them now.
But, she thought, as she remembered how Snow had appeared momentarily in Mary Margaret's classroom, she feared them even more. They couldn't come back. They'd be in more danger than they could possibly know.
Snow and James had saved her so many times.
She needed to return the favour.
She needed to be Kathryn.
When she walked in the front door of their house, Kathryn froze in place. David's luggage was piled by the door, and its owner was sitting on their aged couch, staring at her. There was no warmth in his still so piercing blue eyes.
Only cold disdain.
He stood up then, and walked towards her, looked her dead in the eye.
"Just tell me one thing, Kathryn. How could you do it?"
Author's Note:
The plot of this chapter basically appeared in my head one day a couple of months ago, just about fully formed. On the commute to work, too, when I had absolutely no time to write - convenient, no? In fact, I was still in the process of writing the few preceding chapters, so even with the kind of instant inspiration for this chapter, I wasn't writing it yet. And even once I started writing it... I had the chapter so perfectly imagined in my head, that it took me quite some time to write it, to get it right. Please let me know what you think!
As another bribe for your patience, I went and finally found Amy! You can find a picture of the dog that I've imagined in my head at my tumblr, http:/destinypanics[dot]tumblr[dot]com/post/21409504918#notes
As well, for those of you who have any interest, my twitter account is destiny_panics. You'll have to put up with my obsessive tweets about sports, should you want to follow me, but I do also tweet updates as to where I am in writing Freedom Love... and more importantly, I always tweet when I've updated.
Finally, thanks, as always, for reading.