Chapter 10:

Alterations and Transformations

"And why do we need a busybody pixie?" inquired an incredulous Will.

Tawny shrugged, "Well, while you boyos were off on your little adventure, we three got to talking, and well, if I am to pass myself off as the Black Queen, I'm gonna need a serious make-over and few accessories."

She concluded her explanation with a wave at herself. Travel-worn and grubby in both clothes and body does not scream 'Royalty-Am-I', (not that she didn't bathe or wash her clothes, but river water is no match for a gilded tub or legion of royal laundresses). And her short dyed hair and work-worn, if manicured, hands were far too modern-Gwen-McKinley and not enough Tanwen-who-is-also-known-as-Guinevere-the-Lesser-or-the-False.

Killian, who gave her an appreciative look-over (clearly not minding her grubby state), asked shrewdly, "So why don't you make a Wish? And cut out the middle man?"

"Technically, I'd still have a middle-man…" She answered with a nod at her very own genie.

Her man was not amused, judging by his censoring look. She wondered if his disgruntlement had more to do with continued pirate possessiveness of his woman or with her Master-genie relationship with Will, which might bring to mind some seriously kinky imagery…

Before the drama of the Killian-Gwen-and-Will show could begin again or before her mind could travel too far down the wonderful, but salacious road of Role-play, Cyrus cut in, explaining, "As Will has recently learned and from my many years of experience, genie magic has the unfortunate tendency to twist the Wish against the wisher."

"All magic has a price."

No one else heard her pirate's mutter of the Crocodile's favorite catch phrase, but she did. Squeezing his hand briefly in understanding, she whispered thoughtfully, "Yeah. And genie magic seems to work on a yin-yang balance scale."

More audibly for the others, and more defiantly for Will, she declared, "So (a) I'm not going to risk any bad ju-ju jinxing or bollixing anything up, and (b) I don't want to be the idiot wearing the genie-made choker around her neck and have it decide to 'Choke her', thank you very much."

Will held his hands up in defense, as he replied, "Alright, alright. Point made. Do you three have any idea where we can find a fairy godmother?"

Alice looks at her friend both imploringly and apologetically.

Tawny was not sure what the back story was to that look, but whatever it was, it caused Will to immediately take a backpedaling step and frantically assert, "Oh no. Oh no, no, no. and bloody hell no."

~0~

"Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Uh-uh. Didn't you learn your lesson the last time?"

So declared the tiny dark-haired fairy, who also happened to be waving her wand threateningly at Will, much to hers and Killian's vast amusement, possibly Cyrus' too.

"You're right." Will swallowed nervously, admitting, "This is a bad idea. In fact, that's what I said when it was first brought up."

Silvermist continued as if he hadn't spoken, "I mean, really, why on earth would I help you, especially if it meant helping out her?"

Before Will or anyone else could answer, Will's last statement caught up to her and she declared even more irately, "Wait. Just one minute. Why did you think it was a bad idea? Do you not think of me capable of taking the higher road?"

"Oh, I believe it," Will retorted scathingly. "You'd take me with you, and then drop me over the side of a cliff and into the sea…again."

Over her responding high-pitched sputters, she could hear Killian's mutter of disbelief, "How does he do it? The queen, Tawny, Lizard-lass, and now this fairy."

Tawny leaned over and whispered back drily, "Same way you do – the accent and bad boy charm, darling."

Cyrus interrupted the entertaining tableau to say, "As fascinating as this little lovers' quarrel is – "

"Ex-lovers' quarrel," corrected Silvermist.

"Just so," he acknowledged diplomatically with a nod, before continuing, "I'd like to point out that you'd not just be doing Will and the Red Queen a favor, but you'd be helping in saving lives."

He then proceeded to explain the potential execution of Red nobles.

At the conclusion of his speech, Silvermist sniffed dismissively, "I'm not entirely convinced that they don't deserve it."

Poor Cyrus stared at her dumbfounded. He had obviously, in his long genie life, had never come across a jaded fairy. Tawny, herself, could not help but mutter to the pirate, who was Tinkerbelle's 'friend', "There's a reason she's in Wonderland and not among Blue's gaggle of goody-two-shoes, don't ya think?"

He, the charmer, merely snorted.

Sweet Alice continued to advocate for their cause, "She had the White king and queen unjustly killed."

"For not honoring their oaths and being more concerned about their power than the people, just like your Red Queen." She sneered the last at Will.

"She killed Queen Guinevere and King Arthur so that she could become a Queen of Wonderland herself. Where is the honor and justice in that, milady faye?" interjected Lancelot, his deep melodious voice crackly slightly from the depth of his emotion.

It was most likely this that arrested the fairy. Her indifferent demeanor vanished and she gazed at him sadly, before finally replying, "You speak truth…And there's none. I liked Arthur of the Round Table. He had potential."

There was another contemplative pause before she fixed Tawny with a shrewd look, "I will do as you ask, but for a price."

Killian stiffened next to her at those words, and made to move protectively in front of her, as if this Arthur-admiring fairy might be a minion of the Dark One. But she merely stuffed her curiosity down and resumed her poker-face to begin the bargaining.

Arching an eyebrow, she waited expectantly for the fairy to continue.

"You're from Storybrooke, aren't you?"

Both eyebrows went up at this.

At her lack of an eager or any other emotional reply, doubt flickered across the fairy's face. Good. Now the little pixie would be wondering how much Tawny wanted her help. Would it be more or less than whatever her desire was?

The fairy's resulting uncertainty must have been enough to unsettle her, as she grew to human-size to even the playing field, before babbling, "I ask, because I heard you mention Blue, and I know she and 'her gaggle' got swept away in that Curse…"

Tawny blushed slightly at her comment to Killian being overheard, but only admitted coolly, "Yes, I am."

"Well then," the dark-haired beauty declared with the straightening of her shoulders, "I will do as you ask, if you will promise me that upon your return, you will find my sister Violetdew and let her know…" She then leaned over to whisper into her ear, for her ears only, "that I'm okay, that I love her, and that I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye."

She kept her face blank and bit her tongue to stop herself from asking all sorts of questions that this request begged to be asked. Alice would have, but Tawny knew something about painful pasts and open wounds. Besides, if she did ask, the fairy might not be so accommodating, so she simply nodded and said, "I think – "

She stopped and looked at her partner inquiringly. She did not want to make a unilateral decision for them both.

Killian gave her a reassuring nod, so she finished, "I – we – can do that."

A relieved smile spread across the fairy's face, followed by a cheerful declaration, "Let's begin!"

Taking deep breath, she stepped forward and placed herself willingly into a fay creatures hands, saying wryly, "Alrighty. Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo me."

~0~

With a wave of her wand, silvery-blue smoke swirled around and enveloped her.

Her body began to tingle as if a thousand granules of sand were scouring her skin and scalp while a thousand soap bubbles were caressing her. She could feel her hair lengthen and be twisted up in an elaborate knot of curls. She could feel a light breeze swirl around her as her form-fitting trousers, tunic, and corset disappeared, and in their place was the heavy weight of petticoats, corset, gown, and cloak. Her lace-up boots were replaced with more lady-like walking shoes. And most importantly, around her neck, she could feel the cold metal of the hideous choker.

When the smoke cleared, she glanced down to see that her cloak was made of fine silvery-gray wool and that her dress, which had a square-neck line, long flowing sleeves, and flowing skirts, was a dark blue that was noticeably not Black nor White nor Red and reminded her of…

She glanced up at Killian to see his irises were dark indigo with want and she could feel herself blush like some debutante maiden, while at the same time she was longing to pounce upon him and satisfy all those desires swirling feverishly in his eyes.

Their spell was broken by both Will's low wolf-whistle and Alice's pleased gasp of appreciation, causing her eyes to dart around and notice her audience.

The most troublesome one was Lancelot's. His face was Sorrow and Grief.

And her pleasure at Killian's open admiration dimmed. She knew she could not offer the knight any comfort, especially not when she now looked as she once did. But she could offer him a chance at closure, a chance at satisfying retribution.

She gave him a grim nod of understanding, before saying, "Thank you, Silvermist."

"You just hold up your end of the bargain," dismissed the fairy.

"I will," she promised, and then inquired beseechingly, "This all won't disappear at the stroke of midnight, will it?"

Silvermist and Cyrus looked at her in puzzlement, obviously not getting the reference, and the fairy even went so far as to say slowly as if to a child, "No…as that will do you no good, when the trial is scheduled for two days from now …but it will slowly fade in about a week's time."

She grimaced, trying not to imagine how it would look for her hair to grow shorter in that time frame as well as trying not to say anything particularly catty in response to the fairy's condescending tone. Will Scarlet sure knew how to pick 'em.

And she was not so full of herself that she excluded her Cursed Gwen-self from that list of 'them'.

Alice and Cyrus made polite goodbyes to the fairy, while Will and his pixie ex exchanged barbed retorts.

As soon as she was gone, Killian dryly commented, "Well, lass, it was a good thing that bit of spiteful sprite did not know about the two of you and your time in Storybrooke…I imagine that you would have been better off making a Wish, jinxes and all."

She fingered the hideous thing as she glowered at him, mouthing "Bite me".

"With pleasure."

~0~

Late morning, the next day…

After their meeting with Silvermist, they turned their path back towards Castle Obsidian. Tomorrow morning, their group would have to split up as they joined the crush of people that would be clogging the main roads to see the Red Queen's downfall, but today they were keeping to the lesser paths.

They were quieter than they had been. There was no gossipy chatter between her and Will about various people from Storybrooke or tales of adventure from Alice and Cyrus. The barbed remarks between her pirate and the former thieving forester had stopped after her and Killian's little chat and round of make-up reunification.

She herself was so lost in her thoughts that she was hardly even cursing at the snagging branches or biting bugs. And pray tell, was she so preoccupied with? The impending day of doom? What she was going to say to Langwidere that would trick her into exposing herself?

Oh no. She was thinking upon her dress. Yep. She was officially a girl.

But in her defense, it was a remarkable dress and cloak and well, ensemble. Normally, by this time, with the sun high in the sky and their grueling pace through woods that were thick with muggy heat, she would be clammy with sweat and her clothes would be less than fresh due to her perspiring and the dirt and leaves and such that clung to her clothes.

But she was spotless. Not a speck, not a sprig, not a drop of perspiration. That was some magic, and it made her wonder if she underestimated the cost of playing messenger between the sister sprites.

She might have. After all, Arthur had met his final fate by just being a 'simple messenger'.

Her musings were interrupted by Killian, who inquired pensively, "Tell me, lass…how are we going to guarantee that the Black Queen will go through with the execution?"

Over Will's snort of disbelief, he continued, "I mean, as I understand it, the genie's master cannot be killed until he or she makes the Wishes…"

Ahead of her, she could hear Alice mutter, "Oh sweet Lord, how could we have forgotten that?"

She hadn't known that little detail, but it would certainly explain the why behind some of the Possible Futures that the Oraculum had shown her.

"Well, we will just have to give it back," she answered.

"And how do you propose we do that, lass?" Killian questioned dryly. "When we stole it the first time, you pointed out that Alice, Cyrus, and Will were too recognizable, and while you no longer resemble Gwen McKinley the thieving maid, you cannot do it or your grand identical twin moment will not happen. The knight cannot or he might not be able to enact his role as executioner."

"Are you volunteering, Captain?" Cyrus asked.

"No, he is not," she hastily cut in. It had sounded like he was going to do that very thing, and she couldn't have that.

At everyone's shocked and speculative looks at her almost panicked tone, she blurted briskly, "Rule No. 11."

Killian's concerned expression transformed into amusement, as he recalled, "Ah, yes. 'Never ever volunteer when you can delegate or shanghai someone else into doing your dirty work.' You, my pirate apprentice, were paying attention in our lessons. You may graduate to the top of the class, when you provide us with a suitable candidate or solution to this little quandary."

She took a swig of water from her canteen to stall as she searched for a solution. She needed to find one, and she wanted her man-in-black's approval. Both motivations were very distracting.

Finally, she stated aloud, "The reason I made such an excellent candidate the last time, aside from you all being terrible ones, is that I have exceptional skills at blending in and sneaking into places I shouldn't be…So do you know anyone here in Wonderland that resembles that remark?"

"Lizard," Will reluctantly declared. "I taught her everything I know."

"Not the greatest recommendation as you have your face plastered all over wanted posters, lad," Killian noted.

For once, Will did not snipe back. He merely shrugged and stated, "Yeah, well, she wasn't trying to be a certain someone's thorn in their side."

"She is going to be there anyways," blurted Alice, causing everyone to stop and stare at her in bewildered amazement, even her fiancé looked at her in shock.

Nervously, she rambled an explanation, "I, well, she, er, told me, that is, that she would be there in case we needed her." At Will's glower, she added, "And I think she would be quite upset if we didn't use her – "

"Use her!" was Will's irate protest, to which she interrupted with, "Well, I do declare, Miss Alice Kingsleigh, you have been hiding an ace up your sleeve! You naughty thing, you."

Her tone was admiring but her words and batting eyelashes were coquettish, causing Alice to blush and hesitantly say, "Thanks…?"

And while the girl got over her Victorian vapors, Tawny said to Will, "We won't be 'using' her. We'll just be taking her up on her offer of assistance, and we won't be needing her to place your bottle back in her blinged-out cabinet. All Lizard will need to do is place it with a note in a public place so that any of her people can make her aware of its return."

Her argument seemed to satisfy him, as he gave a grudging nod. This seemed to be the signal that Cyrus was waiting for because within minutes a message was formulated, written, folded into swan shape, and sent off like a homing pigeon.

Not long after, they resumed their arduous trek, but not their silence. Will sidled up to her, saying, "So I've been meaning to ask you…If Giselle the hairstylist was Rapunzel, does that mean Fitz was the rescuing prince?"

She laughed a most un-lady-like laugh, a half-guffaw half-snort, before managing to reply, "Sorry, no. He was a thief. And how did you know that he would be her hair-climbing rescuer?"

"Good God, the town locksmith was a thief? And who else would it be? Those two were like Han Solo and Princess Leia before Cloud City."

And so they continued the rest of the day.

~0~

Hearing his lass and Scarlet reminisce throughout the day did not bother him as much as it had a few days ago.

It could be that he was more confident in their relationship after their talk and then their 'talk'. Or it could be that they now had bigger things to worry about – such as how she was going to trick the Black Queen into revealing her true character.

His lass was a clever chit, but he would need to work on a back-up plan, as per Rule #4.

His plotting was interrupted by the lass in question letting out a contented groan. He looked down to see her dangling her feet in the cool running water of the creek, while sitting on a rock with her skirts hitched up around her waist. Her shoes were on the rock beside her.

At his smirk, she whined, "She may have excellent taste in fashion. She may have been wise in bespelling my clothes to be filth-free. But clearly the be-winged fay creature has had no need to develop an appreciation for comfortable, arch-supporting walking shoes."

Glancing around he noticed that the others were busy about their business of setting up camp and the like and that the two of them were for the moment all alone. So he asked the question that had been burning the tip of his tongue all afternoon.

"And why is it that I must not volunteer to return the bottle? And do not give me the malarkey of Rule #11."

Her feet stilled in the water at his question, and she kept her gaze fixed on them.

He had been studying this woman for quite some time, and he had begun to categorize her silences. This was one of her Reluctant Silences. It was not the kind in which she did not want to tell him something and was desperately trying to find a way to throw him off the scent. No, this was the kind in which she was preparing to remove her armor and let him see the Tanwen within.

Recognizing this, he reached over and turned her face towards him with his hook, and with his hand he brushed her loose curls behind her ear, so that he could stare into her amber eyes, as he reminded her, "Hey love, if you were to give me your heart, I would cherish it more than life itself."

Her eyes closed briefly as she turned her head into his hand, almost nuzzling it, before opening them back up. She stared at him imploringly as she whispered, "I – I can't do it."

"You can't do what?"

"I can't go out there and face a jeering crowd, a crowd that lusts for blood, not alone," she confessed.

"Oh lass," he breathed, realization dawning on him.

His woman, who had been kidnapped, nearly publicly tortured for a horde of villainous bloodthirsty thugs, and only saved by being privately beaten to near death, was going to intentionally draw the eyes of a revenge-seeking, justice hungry mob.

His woman, who had been accused of being a treasonous witch against her king by her own sister and nearly burned at the stake by pious crusaders, was going to confront a queen who literally wore the visage of said sister and who had the zealous devotion of pious knights to defend her 'honor'.

His woman, who disliked being in Granny's when there was a crowd, was going to lose her head – figuratively and then literally.

"So what is it that you need from me, love?"

Taking a steadying breath, she answered, "I need you to be somewhere within my line of sight at all times. If I can see you, know that you are there, I'll be able to go through with this."

"I can do that, my love," he promised without hesitation.

She smiled at him tenderly, murmuring only "I know," before kissing him.

~0~

Later, much later, when Killian and the others were in their deepest sleep, Tawny gathered her fine wool cloak around her and went and sat next to Lancelot, who was standing watch.

"Do not take this personally, milady, but your presence is most unwelcome at this present time," he rumbled softly.

"I know," she acknowledged gently, but continued on anyways. "But tomorrow, so many things can go wrong…and I have a favor to beg of you in case it does."

He did not turn to face her, but his whole body went momentarily still. His eyes quit scanning the forest around them. It was impossible for her to tell what he was thinking, but when his chest began to rise and fall again and his head cocked slightly to the side in her direction, she took it to mean he was not un-willing to listen to her.

"If things go tits - er, sideways, um, son of a bitch, whatever – " she took a deep calming breath, and tried again, less awkwardly and less colorfully. "I suspect that I won't be able to save myself with a Wish, and possibly, no one else either, so I need you to…"