Unlike the day before, when the cold weather and cloudy sky had rendered the forest gloomy, it now looked like any other forest you might visit; completely harmless. Of course after spending a few days in Storybrooke Indira knew that that was not exactly the case. On their way out to a new trail, which would lead them in the opposite direction than the one leading to the Witch's farmhouse (as they believed Gold, or Rumplestiltskin, to be fleeing from there), David had even given her a small dagger to use in case they were attacked. Apparently he had learned that if they came along they certainly needed to be armed with something. He himself had opted for a sword, not his usual one as it had been demolished and partially stolen by the Witch, but a sword none the less. Emma, of course, went along with her gun.
"So, how was Neal?" David asked, aiming his question at Emma.
"It was... hard", Emma admitted. "Henry makes it complicated, it's not just about me. He's hoping Gold can help bring his memories back."
"That would be an added bonus to finding him", David admitted, probably referring to the fact that previous attempts at breaking the memory spell by replicating the same potion Emma had been given in New York by Hook to cause her to come back and help out had failed. Indira purposely walked a few steps ahead of them, letting the pair have their father-daughter talk. It still felt strange to think of them like that, like father and daughter, as they looked to be about the same age, but since time had stopped for the inhabitants of Storybrooke during the almost thirty cursed years they first had lived there did not age, while Emma, living elsewhere thanks to being saved from the curse, followed the regular aging pattern.
"Would it?" Emma now asked. "A couple of days ago I would have thought that was true, but now..."
She hesitated.
"Now what?" David asked. "How's he going to stay in Storybrooke without them?"
There was a pause and Indira struggled with the temptation of turning back to look at them.
"Unless you're not planning to", David eventually said, letting out a sigh. "You think you'll go back to New York after we break the curse?"
"A week ago, Henry and I were playing video games and eating fruit roll-ups", Emma responded. "Now I'm chasing after the Dark One hoping he can help me find the Wicked Witch of the West."
Indira froze in her steps before Emma had finished speaking, an agonized cry sounding among the trees. Emma and David stopped as well.
"This way", Indira said and took off.
Not far from the trail they saw the shape of a man. He was on his knees, trembling and grasping at his head with his right hand.
"Gold!" Emma called, running up to the man. "Are you alright?"
"No", the man said, before raising his voice to a scream. "Not alright, not alright!"
He looked up, waving his hand at Emma to stop her from coming any closer. Indira studied him with a mixture of fear and surprise; he did not look like a man supposed to be an expert in magic, especially dark magic. In fact he looked fragile; not too tall, skinny, shoulder-length, brown-grey hair, high cheekbones, a pointy nose and long fingers. His dark suit jacket hung loosely over his shoulders.
"I can't quiet the voices", he now cried and grasped at his head again, seemingly close to tears. Emma knelt as close to him as she would dare, slowly in an attempt not to frighten him.
"We know that you were held captive by the Wicked Witch", she said, her voice calm. "Do you know where she is?"
The man, who apparently was known as Gold in this world, nodded.
"Yeah, she's... she's..."
He cried out in agony again.
"There's no room!" he cried. "No room! There's too many voices! Too many voices!"
"We've got to get him out of here", David said, moving forward.
"No!" Gold said, though his voice was drowned in the cry of a flying monkey closing in on them. David immediately drew his sword and hit the creature on its left wing, sending it crashing to the ground behind Gold. Despite this it rose quickly. While Emma pulled out her dagger and readied it for a shot, Indira drew her dagger, wondering what she would be able to accomplish with it. David moved forward, slashing at the beast with his sword. During this commotion Gold got up and ran past them, away from the monkey and down towards the trail. Both Emma and Indira looked from his fleeing shape to David.
"He's getting away!" Indira called, alerting the fighting man. He looked back at them.
"I'll hold it off", he said, slashing at the monkey once more. "Go!"
Emma glanced at Indira once more before she secured her gun, holstered it and started running after Gold. Indira looked down at her dagger, at the monkey and then in the direction that Emma had run. With a roar she then flung the dagger forward, narrowly missing David and hitting the monkey square in the chest. It screamed in pain and flew back, before it rose into the air and swiftly flew away from them. David turned towards Indira with a surprised stare, one she hardly noticed as she was staring after the monkey.
"How did you..."
"I'm going to pull a wild guess and say I learned that during this year we can't even remember", Indira interrupted. "Come on, let's go find them before it comes back."
Calling Regina Mills, this realm's name for the Evil Queen, an interesting woman would be an understatement. First of all Robin could not believe her choice of clothes; a pair of high-heeled boots, a tight skirt, a clear-blue scarf and a long, grey coat did not play well with scouting out a house in an attempt to find a Witch. Then again, it did show him something else; she was a very attractive woman.
After going through the few rooms within the farmhouse they ended up back in the kitchen, where Regina immediately started to investigate the containers by the stove marked out as containing various spices. A few at a time she brought them over to the table and inspected them, probably using some sort of magic to determine if they were in fact magical ingredients in disguise.
"Nothing useful here", she eventually said though, pursing her lips in disappointment. He quickly turned his gaze from her face to the container in her hand.
"Unfortunately", she muttered as she placed it down on the table between them.
"So, none of these contain magical properties?" he asked, indicating at the shelf behind them, which was now as neatly arranged as it had been before they came. Regina straightened up.
"Well, a good witch covers her tracks", she said as she walked around the table. He did not know why but for some reason, despite not having the need to do it, she walked so close to where he was standing that their shoulders touched.
"But a better one", she continued, her breath tickling the hair on his neck as she leaned over towards him, "can uncover them."
He turned with her as she passed, following the scent of her perfume, feeling more intrigued by this woman than he had ever been before. Was she flirting with him? It certainly felt like it and, he had to admit, the banter they had shared previously outside the house had been oddly teasing. Well, he now thought as his eyes swept down her coat-covered back, two can play this game. He leaned back against the table as he took in the sight of her bending over forwards to study every single container on the shelf once more.
"We'll find her", she said, unaware of his thoughts, "just be patient."
The word caused him to smile; for some reason he did not see her as a patient woman. He could even hear it in the tone of her voice as she uttered that certain word. The best thing to do would be to draw her attention somewhere else, he thought to himself, smiling even wider.
"You know, I've heard many stories about the great and terrible Evil Queen", he begun, his eyes once again travelling down her back, "but from this angle the evil moniker seems somewhat of an overstatement."
She stopped, not straightening up completely but her movements clearly showed that she was listening.
"Bold and audacious, perhaps", he said as he slowly pushed himself up off the table again, "but not evil."
She turned and the smile she gave him made him smile back. A warm feeling wrapped around his heart and he reflected back on what she had asked him outside the farmhouse; did they know each other? Had they met during the year they had now forgotten?
"The name served me well", she now said, tossing her hair aside instead of raising a hand to push it away from her face. "Fear is... quite an effective tool."
He did not really reflect on what he was doing next; his eyes were glued to hers as he found himself walking forward, invading her personal space. Her red lips parted and her eyes darted down to look at his mouth, then back up to meet his gaze again. She was beautiful, he thought, but there was something more about her as well. He had not felt like this for a woman since... well, since Marian died.
The thought of his late wife caused him to move aside in the last moment, reaching past her, still so close that their scents mingled with every breath of air he inhaled, and grabbed a bottle standing on the lowest shelf.
"What about this?" he asked, pulling back but still standing so painfully close to her. Truly, if he wanted to he only had to bend forward and brush her lips over hers, and the same, obviously, counted for her.
"Is this magical?" he clarified. She seemed to tear her gaze away from his eyes, focusing on the bottle in his left hand.
"Not exactly", she responded, tapping the cork of the bottle with her finger, "but it is a liquid that can conjure courage, give strength or... even act as a love potion of sorts."
His eyebrows shot up. Was she insinuating what he thought she was insinuating? Then, suddenly, her face broke into a wide grin, showing that she was teasing him.
"It's called whisky", she explained, "and no, it's not magical. Especially the next day."
"Oh", he said, smiling in realization at exactly what he was holding in his hand. He swiftly moved the bottle over to his right hand and, reaching past her once again, grabbed two glasses from the top shelf. As he pulled back he gave her a face that he hoped conveyed exactly what he wanted to ask her.
"You want to have a drink?" she asked, frowning at him. "Now?"
He smiled and turned around towards the table with his goods.
"Well", he said as he placed it all down and pulling up the sleeves of his jacket, "in the last few days we've survived a curse, woken up in an entirely new realm, and forgotten a year of our lives."
He unscrewed the cork of the bottle and poured the amber liquid into the two glasses. He then screwed the cork back on and turned towards her with her glass placed in the palm of his right hand. She was smiling widely at him.
"I'd say we've earned it", he said as he reached it out towards her. "Wouldn't you?"
She looked down at the glass, about to accept it, and then, all of a sudden, her smile faltered. Her mouth moved as if she wanted to say something but all she could do with her face was to convey her utter shock. What it was that shocked her, however, he did not know and it made him worried.
"Is something wrong?" he asked. Without looking up to meet his eyes again she pushed past him, hurriedly making for the door, her right hand moving up to clutch her chest.
"Regina!" he called after her, but she was already gone. He was left standing in the Wicked Witch's kitchen with two glasses of whiskey in his hands. Swiftly he downed them both before putting the bottle back where he had found it, not caring that it was now containing significantly less liquid than before, grabbing his crossbow and rushing out through the door only to see Regina vanish into the forest below.
Outlaw Queen, Outlaw Queen, Outlaw Queen!
(If you didn't know I'm a major OQ-shipper, so their scenes are just... I won't change them much because they're perfect as they are, alright?)