Nemo still remembered the agony of the very first change when it first happened.
Her mind hadn't let her forget the pain as it spooled into every muscle and nerve, or her horrified screams echoed and shattered her eardrums. And though sometimes her memory recalled her heart stopping at some point in the event, which could have been a signal of her death as a human and being reborn into the life of one of the Beorn, she wasn't totally sure if that had actually happened.
The pain of the flesh echoed deep into her skin and bones as the child was changed first into what the family called, the 'true form'. One that was not a bear, but something that signified the soul inside the person, the quality of their heart.
But all that pain and suffering could never possibly replace that agony of seeing the looks of horror on faces of the people around her as they saw her true form for the first time. The people that were once welcoming her into their family as one of them, the old woman who had treated her much like a daughter. They now seemed horrified by what stood before them, and soon began to whisper amongst themselves still as the pain was not even close to waning in her body.
"What is she?"'
"Gods the smell"
"It's a monster"
"Her blood must be tainted"
The whispers, the confusion and the still existing pain became all too much for Nemo to handle, and she fled from the clearing and from those now judging stares.
Because of the pain, it had taken her mind some time before it finally managed to catch up with her and start questioning what had just happened and processing the fact that she was running faster than she was ever able to before.
Finally the child's mind gathered control of herself and she managed to stop.
Nemo had noticed she was now near another clearing, one that she had been to before and so she already knew that there was a large pond there. Her curiosity, along with the horrible gut twisting whispers after she had apparently changed form, only fueled her need to know what she looked like now. Carefully the child walked into the clearing and over to the pond, the surface of the water rippling for a time because of her approach before it finally cleared, allowing her to see what her true form was now.
She never forgot the scream that tore from her throat then, one that came from a voice that sounded nothing like her own.
"I'm going to take any good reason for a night out, if I'll be honest," The teenager replied as she was welcomed into the Nolan house, her father assisting in wheeling her inside. There was a moment of laughter, the kind that was somewhat hollow and more used just to be kind. All except David of course, who seemed genuinely amused by her comment, at least that was what Lydia convinced herself was true.
"Well, I have to get back to the shop now, don't forget to call me when you're ready to go home Dearie," Mr. Gold said as he said goodbye to his adoptive daughter, then taking a moment to also say farewell to the Nolans before finally going on his way. Lydia watched him leave before looking back to the party, which was easy for her to tell that it was filled with people that weren't like her and she didn't know.
"Lydia!" At least that was what the teenager had thought until she had heard the voice of Henry from behind her. Lydia managed to circle her wheelchair around just as the mayor's son approached her. There was a very awkwardly done hug, mostly because the teen was unable to get up and the boy was not very good at stretching his arms. When they parted again they still smiled, glad to be in each other's presence that wasn't a life threatening situation.
"Nice to see you're doing great; did your mum tell you the good news?" The teen grinned to the tn year old, who only seemed a confused by what she was talking about. However before Lydia could be the one to spring the happy news, the mayor herself walked into the opening hallway. And after having apparently heard all of their conversation beforehand, Regina had also decided that she would be the one to divulge the ten year old on the new situation.
"Miss Gold is going to be your babysitter again Henry, hopefully she will take this second chance with more responsibility," The last part was more of a shot in Lydia's direction, but the teen didn't really care about that as instead her primary focus was the expression of happiness on the boy's face.
"That's great! I can't wait to hang out again!" The teen couldn't help but share the ten year old's infectious grin as they were both led into the main sitting room, which was full of people. Lydia and Henry both looked at each other with same expression, one of exasperation at the amount of grownups. Thankfully there came a rescue in their shared boredom from a knock at the door.
"Emma!" The blonde Deputy greeted her biological son and his babysitter as she as well was led into the large sitting room. Though eventually it became a little too crowded for the three of them to hold a good conversation, so they all retreated to the section of the hallway by the staircase that was thankfully empty of anyone else that could interrupt them at that moment.
For a time there was nothing but small talk of school, comic books and wheelchair maintenance between the teenager, ten year old and deputy. Lydia watched Emma as she was genuinely interested in the subjects her son was taking part in at school, noticing the small movements in her facial muscles and shift in her shoulders as she turned to face Henry so he had her full attention. From these really small things that many probably wouldn't notice, Lydia could tell that the deputy was genuine with how she felt about her son.
Lydia was glad that Emma was coming back into her son's life, since she remembered the time that she was Henry's babysitter, how lonely the boy was. Maybe the influence of his birth mother, who definitely seemed more sociable than Regina, could help Henry gain the confidence to gain more friends. And just maybe those kid's parents won't be later scared away by the dragon queen that was Regina Mills and her over protected ways.
The teenager slowly wheeled herself back and forwards, just to have something to do as she watched the Deputy and her child bond, and couldn't help but feel a little empty. Of course Lydia was happy that Henry now had someone else in his life that loved him, since the teen felt that there was nothing he could need more than more people to love him. But, as she watched him bond and smile and be so happy with his mothers, it continued to remind Lydia that this was the very thing that she didn't have.
Thankfully however, Henry interrupted her thought process before it could begin its downward spiral, as he started talking in a lower tone so just Emma and Lydia could hear him, (even though they were the only ones in the hallway). The teenager just went with it and listened intently to what the ten year old had to say, his biological mother doing the same.
"You know why David doesn't remember? Because the curse hasn't worked on him yet," While Lydia was interested in how the ten year old's imaginative belief in this curse managed to explain away one too many things a little too well, Emma was more concerned. Perhaps she was thinking more in the lasting effects this could have on the boy and how he dealt with his issues.
So she tried to give the little doses of the real situation instead.
"Henry, David has amnesia,"
However it seemed Henry had already thought this through and managed to find a way to place it into his belief. It was a fascinating thing to watch, but a rather worrisome thing all the same.
"Which is preventing the curse from replacing his fairy tale story with fake memories," As the ten yer old explained, Lydia looked again to Emma, which was thankfully hidden from Henry's sight since he was facing away from her at the time. The teen wondered on what the boy's biological mother thought of all this, and whether or not she was encouraging this, or just trying to bond with her son.
Either way it was definitely kinder than Regina's take on it, which was to send him to a Shrink as though he were a broken toy to be fixed, and treated him as such whenever he brought the curse up.
"Right, because everyone here has fake memories that prevent them from remembering who they really are," Lydia contributed to the conversation, the boy and his mother both turning to face her now as though they had really only just remembered that she was also a part of this conversation. But then again Lydia was kind of use to this.
Henry nodded in agreement, happy that his babysitter was also seemingly listening to him at last.
"Right and now's our chance to help David, we just have to make him remember that he's-"
"Prince Charming," Emma's deadpan delivery but stoic and serious face could have had the teen rolling on the floor right then and there. But Lydia didn't want to upset Henry and embarrass him so she bit her lip into silence.
"We just have to jog his memory, by getting him and Ms. Blanchard together,"
Now was probably the part of this whole curse belief system that Lydia finally felt the need to be a little bit worried. Using this strange concept as a way of dealing with some of the harder issues in life when you're a ten year old boy, that was somewhat fine with the teen. But now it seemed that Henry was stepping it up into interfering in issues between other adults that didn't really concern any of the three people that were having this conversation.
"Henry, David is married to Katherine. He can't be with Miss Blanchard when he's married already," Lydia tired adding another dose of reality itno this, but just like Emma's attempt before, it was shot down before it could even make impact.
"But Mrs. Nolan was really King Midas' daughter that Prince Charming was forced to marry before he met Snow White. And since Ms. Blanchard is Snow White, we need to get them together so they can break the curse."
Lydia was beginning to feel her head spin at this logic, and couldn't help but wonder exactly where this book came from anyway, since it certainly didn't sound like anything she had ever read growing up.
"Didn't we just try getting them together?" Emma countered,
"And it woke him up," Henry's reply seemed to be the ultimatum of the argument, though Lydia was certainly hoping that this wouldn't end up with the ten year old trying to interfere in the love lives of an already married man and almost saint like school teacher.
But before either Emma or the teenager could try another dose of reality for the kid, David managed to find them in their tiny hiding place and joined them.
"I was hoping you three would show up, you're really the only people I know here," It was definitely a little intimidating out there, especially to Lydia since she had the previous reputation of the local vandal and menace. David's predicament was most likely far worse for him, since it was a room full of people that were apparently his friends, or at least they stated that to his face. But in actuality he didn't know what was his standing with those people, the man didn't really know what they thought of him or what his reputation was before the accident.
"It's okay you can hide out here with us," Emma replied, her expression stating that she knew well enough the need to get away from the claustrophobic like judging stare of the fifty or so eyes that was currently Mr. Nolan's front room.
David thanked the Deputy and they shared some more small talk about small subjects, as is the way with most parties that were filled with adults. Lydia and Henry looked on as Emma and David talked about the weather, the both of them for a time wearing the same shade of boredom. At some point another of David's forgotten friends walked past with a small plate of toothpick impaled vegetable pieces, and David of course seized one with what Lydia have never noticed before was his very nimble hands.
"So, have you ever used a sword?"
Ah yes, sometimes Lydia forgot that it was Regina that primarily raised Henry, but then there would be flashes of her leftover lack of tact in his tone that would only serve as a reminder.
David of course, looked puzzled but mostly amused by the question, and the expression that Emma gave the man when she was sure that Henry wasn't looking at her, told him without any words to not try and question it too much. Thankfully the man seemed to get the message and just took it in stride with a kind smile and nod of the head.
Perhaps Lydia was a little too focused on the fact that his smile was really nice.
Well perhaps that was the case since it resulted in her not really paying attention to the rest of the conversation between David and Emma and when she did manage to get a clue back into reality, David had apparently left.
Emma, Regina and Henry left not long after, the Mayor taking a moment to be somewhat unlike herself and seemingly consoled David's wife Katherine that her husband would be back soon. Lydia watched this event with a raised eyebrow but still kept to herself, after all she wasn't going to be the one to police who people associated with, especially since she didn't want to be hypocritical.
Speaking of, Lydia took out her phone as it started to buzz and saw her adoptive father's name flash across the screen, and once again had to curse her injured legs.
If it weren't for that, she could ignore the call and start walking home and finding a way to completely avoid the man. But then again if she hadn't been injured she wouldn't be in Storybrooke at this very moment anyway, so 'whatever' would be the final conclusion.
Lydia answered the call.
The dragon's fire shot out from the cave's mouth flames licking against stone, the bronzed and glowing of the rock afterward spoke volumes of the danger ahead. Still the soldiers of King George and the majesty's only son continued on towards the beast, the sunlight glinting off their armor and swords. No doubt the heat of the best would warp and twist that metal to an unrecognizable degree.
It didn't take long for the first group of the men that approached the best to die at its hands, the Prince struggling against the last two of the men to go and try and save them. A noble effort, but a pointless one as the men that had cried out not seconds before, were already dead.
As the dragon began to exit its cave and approached the remaining men that were supposed to be King George's valorous attempt to slay the beast, its liquid red eyes followed the remaining souls not far from its deadly grasp. The stomach of the creature started to glow, the image of it being enough to make hair stand on end and muscles freeze in terror. The lava like liquid that churned away in its stomach created the glow, though it would become a terrible scorching flame when it bellowed out of the creature's mouth.
The man ran and hid behind rocks that weren't glowing a deep red that spoke of danger at one touch. This didn't bother the dragon, as it maneuvered itself around, chasing the men whilst still being slow and careful. It felt it had the overall advantage in the situation, and that no matter how much ducking and running these mortals did, they would eventually meet the flames.
It closed in on a particular eventual victim after murdering the ones around it, one whose metal protection seemed different from those that died just moments ago. Doubtful the dragon would care much that the one this creature was setting its sights on, was told to be the son of a King. If anything, it selected this mortal in particular just because it amused the beast.
The ominous glow of the dragon's stomach started up again as it cornered the mortal in between a rock face and the sheer drop of the edge of the cliff face. There was no sword in the mortal's hand, no way to defend itself against the sharpened claws of the beast, much less the inferno that was building inside the belly of the beast.
As the jaw began to unhinge, and a wave of heat that told of the flames to came flushed against the man's face, it seemed to the mortal there was nothing more to do but close his eyes and regret that he ever agreed to this mission.
In a millisecond as the eyes of would-be Prince remained closed, the heated wind was replaced with one that spoke of something soaring over him, knocking down the beast that sort to end him right then and there.
Resorting to primal reaction, the man ducked and ran from the corner he had been in before to the other side of the cliff face, his eyes snapping open in the meantime to see what other being had saved him from a fiery fate.
The sight of it took the wind out of his throat and widened his eyes.
For a moment the man was stuck watching in dumb struck disbelief as the creature that had saved him struggled against the dragon, jumping on the back of the beast and holding its fiery maw shut with powerful large limbs that could be described as hands. But he eventually snapped out of it when he realized that it was possible this creature, despite its impressive strength, was going to need his help.
The sword was found amongst the charred bones that once were the men that traveled to this cliff face with him, holding the shining blade in tight fists as he quickly sliced without thought, hitting against the armored hide of the dragon's leg. It did barely any damage to the beast, but it did manage to turn its attention back to the mortal, its liquid eyes now flashing bright vermilion.
With a sudden push of force, the creature that had been defending the mortal was flung off the back of the beast and into the rock wall with such force that it left it stunned and unable to help the man further. He looked once to the creature to ensure that it was not dead before having to run and hide from the dragon that was without distraction and now ready to focus entirely on killing him.
He was quick now to run and dodge the flames and claws of the dragon around the cliff face, his mind running faster than his legs as it thought of what he could next, what plan he could concoct to save himself from the flames of this creature.
After yet another duck and roll that once again saved him from near death, the sheep herder eyes, that were use to straining in the very edges of vision to make sure his sheep wasn't wandering, caught sight of the section of the cliff face in which the rock walls closed in tighter around each other. His mind reeled with what he remembered from his days of trapping livestock, wondering if this could work and fearing that it wouldn't at the same time. Still, it was the only plan he had and it was definitely much better than just allowing himself to be burned to death.
Adrenaline shot through his body faster than any wheat brew ever could as he ran towards the rock tunnel, every footstep one that he prayed to every god would not cause him to trip or stumble. Thankfully this was not the case as he made it to the rock wall tunnel, and squeezed his way through the tight gap.
The dragon was fooled by this tactic much as livestock before it had; it's large scaly head being stuck quick in the small gap. For a second there was a flash of relief as the man recognized that the running and duck portion of this was over, before he remembered that the dragon might be stuck but its ability to breathe fire was very much available.
"Didn't see that coming did you?"
And with that witty comment, the sword that was still tightly held within his grip once again to make an attempt to slice at the skin of the dragon. But this time contact was made, and dispatched the head from the beast much like a knife slipped through butter.
The dragon's head had been obtained at last.
Now, how to get around the rest of the body…
The Prince wasn't sure whether or not he was glad that the strange being that had helped him before was no longer any where to be seen on the cliff face.
However he was somewhat disturbed to see his squire standing where it had once been.
Nemo was more battle weary than when he had last seen her, her clothes were ripped and torn, and there was a rather painful looking gash that caused blood to seep slowly across her temple and brow. Over all she looked very exhausted and pained, as though she had just been in a very brutal fight.
In fact it was almost as if she had been thrown into the rock wall.
The young girl made no comment of greeting; instead she stood stock still, as if she had just been caught in a very compromising position. And yet for some reason it was not her that was left shaking slightly in that cliff face, as the Prince's mind was filled with images of the being before, one that had the capability to tackle a dragon.
One could wonder what a creature like that could do to a mortal man.
For a time they stood in the sudden silence on the edge of the cliff, both of them squaring their vision solely on the other. It was not until the Prince had managed to finally notice that she was unlikely to hurt him, given that she, as the creature, had protected him before. Only then did he decide to be the first to speak up.
"Are you alright? That looks like a pretty bad cut,"
It seemed that only after he had pointed it out that Nemo had ever noticed the injury, her first wince being when her hand gently pushed against the area and pulled back to show the dark red that stained her fingers. She looked back to the Prince for a moment longer, possibly assessing his stance and whether or not he was ready for another fight.
Possibly because she was afraid, because perhaps she couldn't take on another fight.
Whether that was true or not, the Prince didn't know. Though it didn't matter, since whatever her reason was, her stance eventually relaxed and she carefully walked towards him until they were just a meter apart.
"Are you alright your highness?" There was no considerable pain for him, his cuts and bruises being those that would be cured with time more than any kind of medicinal assistance. He shook his head as he replied, his words careful and particular, hoping that his squire would understand what he was trying to do.
"Nothing too serious. Thankfully I was saved by a mysterious being that seemed to have a bone to pick with the dragon as well," The Prince watched as Nemo's eyes seemed to flash with something that had no words, but it was stuck somewhere between suspicion and the slightest glimmer of hope.
"Any idea what this creature was or when it has gone?" The fact that she had referred to the being as a creature was something of note if the Prince's gut feeling was correct. But still, that was an issue of her own, and he continued on with what he was trying to say, whilst not saying it outright.
"No, I didn't get a good look at it, there was a lot of ash in my eyes during the fight. It disappeared while I cut off the dragon's head, didn't seem interested in hurting me," Nemo nodded to his words, her suspicion easing away to relief, but still there was still a little danger to her voice when she spoke next. And that same gut feeling spoke that he should take her advice
"Maybe we should leave before it changes its mind,"
There was a shake in his hand that still held the sword, but he dare not move an inch closer towards her. He took an equally shaky breath before continuing on with the charade that was their conversation.
"Yes we should, please assist me in taking the monster's head back to camp,"
He knew as a Prince that he didn't need to say please when telling her to do something, but really it was said in a 'please don't kill me while my back is turned' tone more than anything else. Nemo only nodded and followed the Prince as he walked back to the tight rock wall where the dragon's head was still waiting for them.
"Of course your highness, we should hurry, so we make it back to the camp before sunset. It can be very dangerous out here at night,"
If she said that because she was searching for a way to make the hair on the back of his neck stand up, it was entirely unnecessary as that was already the case. However, it did succeed in making his pace from a small walk to near a near speedy run.
Lydia had been using the quick flashes of light from the dim lampposts that they drive past on their way home, to see if Mr. Gold is looking at her through the review mirror. The drive has been silent, but in a way that seems sharp and fragile like glass. Soon it will eventually have to be broken, but for the life of her, Lydia does not want to be the one to do it.
They haven't spoken much since leaving the Hospital anyway, though the teenager had to note to herself that this really isn't that big of a leap. The relationship between herself and her adoptive father has always been a little strange and strained, there was always little to talk about. Small talk was really not the way to try and reach someone like him, so really Lydia had always gotten use to big gestures to try and communicate.
Actually listing the times she had done so was enough to make her head spin and think about the analogy of her letting herself walking continuously into a brick wall. And instead of stopping because all she was doing was getting hurt, she continued to do so in the hopes that she could reach the other side. Honestly if anyone else where in her position, she would question both their sanity and why they hadn't bothered to give up before this point.
Well, she had tried to leave hadn't she?
Lydia scratched at her leg as she tried not to think about that incident again, since everything to do with the mine shafts and before it didn't need any more reminiscing than she had done already.
Instead she decided to think about other things, like where the bus she missed would have taken her, where she would have gone. Boston was first of course, but perhaps New York would be next after that.
Maybe she would have left the country, gone to other places around the world. Still it didn't really matter, since wherever the teenager would have gone; there was no chance in hell that she would ever come back to Storybrooke.
And Lydia felt that Mr. Gold in some way, knew that.
"You want to leave Storybrooke? Well sitting here and wallowing in your lowest moment won't get you any closer to the other side of that town line,"
It had certainly surprised her when he had said that, though for the most part at that time she wasn't sure whether or not that was a good thing or a bad thing. Since the implications were that he was not only aware that she was going to attempt to leave again, but… that he was fine with that. That he wasn't going to stop her anymore.
And in some way, he wanted her to leave.
He didn't want her here.
Well, it seemed after that rather unexpected and actual physical flinch at that thought, that Lydia had managed to get her adoptive father's review mirror attention in the form of a questioning look. But instead of deciding to make up some kind of excuse for him or even looking him in the eye, Lydia decided instead on turning to look out the window and trying to seem as though she had been doing so the whole time.
In the meantime however the teenager couldn't help but feel a slight chasm of horrible pain opening in her chest because of what she had considered, along with confusion as to why this was affecting her so bad.
But the more she tried to figure it out, the more she thought of it, and the more she thought about it, the more it hurt. It was like having a knife in her chest and despite how careful she was to try and pull it out, it still went deeper in. There was that bit of her that wanted to plunge it all the way in, to just feel the brunt of it, to get the hardest part out of the way, but at the same time she couldn't do that.
She didn't want to break down like that in the back of this car of all cars.
Why did it have to be this car, right at this moment, with him watching in the review mirror and everything?
If Lydia had known this break down was going to happen, she would have tried to get someone else to drive her home. Hell, the teen preferred to drive with Dr. Whale at this moment more than her own adoptive parent.
It was all the worse because this was entirely his fault in her opinion anyway.
Lydia doesn't notice exactly how out of control she is in her emotions until she figures out that Mr. Gold has already pulled over the car and the eyes that so far have been looking through the small mirror were now staring at her without the assistance of a reflective edge.
She also fails to notice that she's crying, and it's not until after he had handed her tissues that she figures that out to.
Well, since it seemed that conversation block between them had been shattered beyond repair, Lydia decided to just shove that metaphorical knife in deeper just as she had wanted and went full throttle on the sob train until it ran right off the tracks of sensible action.
It was the second time that she ever remembered crying in the back seat of the car. However, it was the first time that Mr. Gold had noticed her tears against the black leather.
The first time, she had been expelled from high school.
Another sting at that memory and deeper tears happen faster than a chemical reaction as a result.
Mr. Gold is uncomfortable whilst watching her cry; Lydia can see that through her continuously water logged vision. She can tell that the man's mind is racing over what he should say at this moment and what he definitely should NOT say whatsoever. But the teenager doubts he'll figure out what not to speak aloud that won't trigger a larger explosion, since she herself doesn't know one hundred percent completely why there are tear tracks across her face.
But still, Lydia knows the more she lets out, the less it seems to hurt inside and the pain lifted off of her shoulders like weights. So, this was how metal shard that was her emotional state at the moment needed to be pulled out.
The tissues are bundled up into a ball in her fist, the attempts to wipe the tears away with it as pointless as placing just one sand bag in front of a tsunami. Lydia wants to curl up into a ball to ride out these waves of feelings that she was still having a difficult time cataloguing. But she's interrupted in the middle of this whole process by the sounds of the driver's car door opening and shutting.
Mr. Gold seemed to Lydia in that moment, to have found the rather sudden emotional breakdown of his teenage adopted a little too much to handle, and had decided to just leave the situation as a whole.
Still, it wasn't as if she could blame him. It was always awkward watching a kid that wasn't yours in the shopping mall, crying because they can't find their father.
A kid that wasn't his.
Another wave of sobbing that honestly she knows she brought on to herself this time, but for some reason punishing herself with self pity feels perfectly needed in that moment. She wants to wallow in it because running away is no longer an option for now. So the teen decides that she'll stay put, arms wrapped around her sides as she tries to pull herself as far inward as she can. Become an outer protective shell as she stays sobbing within and waits for the storm to die down so he'll come back in to drive the rest of the way home.
Seconds that feel like forever later, the car door opens again, but it's not the driver's side. Instead it's the backseat door across from her.
As he shifts carefully into the seat across from her, Mr. Gold looks even more uncomfortable than before. The teen figures he has probably never been in the backseat of his own car, so it must also be awkward that the first time he did so, he was sitting next to a thoroughly upset but now mainly confused, curled ball of tears and shaking shoulders that is his teenage daughter.
This is confusing to Lydia because this is not how they usually physically communicate; this is not the regular way they would be around each other. He is not usually the one to show physical affection much less get very close to her, the last time he was in this vicinity of her personal bubble Lydia was pretty sure it was when she had managed to cut her hand on the bear trap.
He has started talking, but he is being careful and soft in tone, softer than she had ever thought possible for him. Soft. A word she barely ever connected with him, but in this moment it fits better than any other. It feels like a puzzle piece of his personality that few get to see, and she managed to find it by complete accident.
"Are you okay?"
His tone as he speaks is multifaceted with other deeper questions that he doesn't need to say and thank god for that, because he is not good at talking about emotions.
His questions are easy to pick out from the four syllable sentence, but that doesn't make them any less harder to hear.
Did someone hurt you?
Are you in pain? If so who is responsible?
Tell me, who do I have to punish?
…
She doesn't want to say it, but her mind instantly thinks the real response.
Have you ever broken a mirror?
…
But there's no words that bitter or resentful from her, because this moment is too caring, too real between the two of them. She doesn't want to hurt him, because being hurt doesn't feel that great right now. In this moment, there's no grand gestures here to try and get a point across, no arguments, no screaming.
They're just… communicating.
So when she decides not to say any words, and instead just shook her head whilst her face is hidden by her hands, the sobs rolling over her chest as the eye of the storm of her problems has still not been fully reached. It's not a grand gesture, it's just communicating that she can't take sitting straight up right now. She can't take not being able to run from her problems right now.
Whatever it is that is making her not okay right now, it is too much to handle.
And for what she feels is the first time in a long time, Lydia finally manages to reach him somehow with the exact dexterity of how pained she felt.
His understanding is translated in a sudden hand around her back and gently nudging her into an embrace that is not easy for either of them, but then again hard work was never meant to be simple and clean.
And when her head hits against his chest she realizes how soft he is to hold on to, and that confirms to her just how well of a descriptive word that really was for him.
Lydia takes a second too long to say something as Mr. Gold interrupts with his still unusually soft tone.
"Dearie I won't pretend like I know what's going on in your head all the time, or that this situation isn't completely out of character for the both of us. But that doesn't mean I'm not willing to listen or that you need to tell me everything right away. We'll stay here for as long as you need,"
His hand attempts to carefully run through her blonde curls, though the teen can tell that within seconds he had managed to get them tangled in. Still she appreciates the effort to make her feel better. It feels as though he knew in some small way that he had played some part in her current breakdown, and that this was his best attempt at an apology. Through action more than any spoken word, the meaning as a result is a little more powerful.
But then again, Lydia never really needed him to say it, just mean it.
Well It was her turn now, since the teen already knew that she was making him uncomfortable by keeping him in this situation for so long. Despite his comment, that was actually rather comforting to hear, that they would stay here until she felt better, Lydia still didn't want to keep him here for much longer.
She contemplates saying something of the thousands of troubles in her head, to let him in.
But in the end the teen relents against that idea, instead she lifts her head and gently pushes on his shoulder, pushing him carefully away from her and whatever issue was bothering her.
"I'm… I'm fine now. Sorry," She half mumbles and near whispers her words as Mr. Gold lets her out of the very awkward embrace. Lydia slides carefully to her side of the backseat, well as carefully as she could manage without making the muscles of her still injured legs twinge in pain. He watches her for a moment, wanting to be sure that the teen wasn't going to break down into another tidal wave of tears in the meantime.
"Are you sure Dearie?"
Her stomach is already in painful knots, her hands carefully clasped together to stop them from covering her face. His question makes her want to turn back on her decision to not tell him anything, but still she steels herself and carefully nods her head along with her reply, trying to make herself, much less Mr. Gold believe that she was now fine.
"Yes, It's… Let's just go home… please?"
It seems that word's mysterious effect runs in the family, as Mr. Gold finally seems content to relent and climb out of the back seat and back into the driver's. Lydia buckles herself back in and waits for the feeling of the car engine to start up again, her gaze flickering briefly to the review mirror.
Whenever Lydia thinks he is looking, she turns away.
It had taken some time to travel back down from the mountain tops and back to King Midas' castle in order to deliver the prize of a Dragon's head. Most of the journey back was spent in silence, mostly because there wasn't as many knights now to make enough of a ruckus but when added with the grief amongst them because of that loss, the equations equals one hell of a somber trip.
The sort of-Prince, now dragon slayer had remained the most deathly silent of the group. Most of the other knights guessed that it was a silence for the men that were lost on the quest, a quiet mourning before fully celebrating their victory. And whilst they might have been partly right, there was still a factor of the Prince's silence that was connecting to something apart from the quest.
His squire seemed indifferent and completely unchanged by the events that had happened just the day before, but still she to respectfully kept that silence. Though her line of sight often skirted by the Prince, watching him just from the corner of her eye at all times. And in some way, she knew the Prince felt her gaze on him. And while on the outside she looked stoic and indifferent enough to scare the Prince into not saying a word, on the inside she was the one panicking.
What the hell was she thinking, revealing herself like that? Of all the ridiculous things she had managed to do in this lifetime since becoming the lone survivor of her pack, this was certainly on the high list of idiotic and dangerous actions.
It was apparent to her now, that Nemo had allowed herself to become somehow emotionally attached to this former sheep farmer, now dragon slayer. She had cared in that moment on the cliff face, for his safety marginally more than her own, which was just enough to get herself hurt in the process by not paying full attention.
And now she had to worry about this mortal spilling the beans about her true state, meaning that she would have to either kill him, or flee the castle well before then. Neither of these choices sounding particularly pleasing or opportunistic.
Being a servant of King George is absolutely one of the worst experiences of her life, but at the same time the chances of being robbed or killed whilst sleeping on the cold floors of castle were certainly less likely than in the forest. Plus, there was less of a dependency to immediately find food and remain alive all by herself. The servants weren't fed much by the Royal court, but it was food all the same.
And to add to the cons pile of going it alone was that… she had never gone it alone.
The deaths of her family still hung heavy on her heart as it had barely even been eight years since. And considering the fact that she had been seven years old for a good few centuries, her mental state was still that of a defenseless child.
She needed a safe place to go, someone to take care of her.
But the land of King George no longer felt like that safe place to Nemo, especially since she was still not privy to what the Prince was going to do with this information of her that he had managed to gain. And since she was not exactly that trusting of people outside of her state of existence, there was already thoughts in the young squire's head of murder.
But still, could she do it?
It was apparent that she had managed to care enough about this mortal to help save him from the fiery jaws of death, so what was the likelihood that she could then become that exact danger herself?
The Prince turned his head and accidentally made eye contact with his squire.
She was the first to turn away.
A/N: Please take part in the poll if you can, thank you!
Please review, constructive criticism always welcome.