Apologies once again for the wait. The current posting plan is looking at one chapter a month or so. I'm sorry it's such a long wait, but there's not much we can do on top of college work. On a happier note, the entire fic is drafted! There will be 35 chapters total. Thank you to elli.O. for her wonderful work. And thank you to all my readers for sticking with this.
Another hero, another mindless crime
Behind the curtain, in the pantomime,
Hold the line, does anybody want to take it anymore…
The show must go on,
The show must go on.
Inside my heart is breaking,
My make-up may be flaking,
But my smile still stays on.
Whatever happens, I'll leave it all to chance
Another heartache, another failed romance
On and on, does anybody know what we are living for?
~"The Show Must Go On", Queen
Belle woke to the dawn. It was an odd feeling, as if she'd slept deeply for years instead of hours. She felt both heavy and light all at once as the sleep fell slowly from her mind.
Graeme.
The memories of the night before overwhelmed her. The grey morning no longer seemed peaceful, but rather dead and filled with the limp, deflated tensions that had been so real in the darkness.
Crawling from her shelter, Belle shivered in the cold morning air. The others were already awake, seated around the campfire.
"Our only choice is to go up to the main pass," Charming was saying. Snow gave Belle a smile and a bowl of last night's stew. "There will be more guards than ever at this camp. Our only hope is that the main camp isn't as watchful."
"Will we even have a chance there?" Regina asked. "This isn't a pleasure stroll you're proposing. By all likelihood, they're taking him to the ogres' main camp. The largest concentration of them anywhere."
"It's suicide," Hook said, looking rather pleased with himself for the summary.
"What other choice do we have?" Red snapped. "We're not abandoning him."
"No one ever considered that," Snow said. "But Regina's right. Another rescue attempt isn't going to work. We only really had one chance at that."
"Then what?" Red asked. "Are we going to hire a genie and wish him out?"
"You know where to hire a genie?" Hook asked eagerly. Regina slapped his arm. He rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything.
"What about their leader?" Belle asked. "Zoso. That's not exactly an ogre-ish name. Maybe we can negotiate with him."
"Or he's just a strange ogre." Red rolled her eyes. "And then we'll get eaten for suggesting it. We can't negotiate with the ogres. It's been tried. Why do you think we're still fighting this war?"
"I know why we're fighting the war," Belle snapped. "This is different. The whole situation is off. When have ogres ever had a leader? Or taken prisoners? Or moved in squads and worked together? Something's going on here. And it's not an ogre." She couldn't mention the look on Rum's face when he'd said Zoso's name. If even the Dark One, the Sorcerer, feared this Zoso, he was no ogre. And not someone to be trifled with.
Charming sighed. He looked weary. As if the weight of the world had settled on his shoulders. Rather, it was the weight of one man's life—a heavy burden indeed. Snow laid her hand on his back, worry on her face, both for her husband and her brother. Belle bit her lip. She hadn't meant to snap. Arguing wouldn't do them any good.
"Either way, we need to get to the pass," he said. "We can scout things out when we get there and decide then." He looked from Red to Belle, both of whom nodded. "We leave within the hour," he said and stood, taking his wife's hand. "Be ready then."
Their march went slowly. There was something odd to walking with only six. They were lopsided without Graeme. It wasn't that there was a set formation with a hole in it because of his absence, but rather that now they fit evenly two by two. It was too neat.
The main pass was much farther west along the northern mountain range than they'd scouted. It was close enough to the main troops of King George's army that other patrols were expected to cover it. It was quite the distance from their original trail. They followed the ogres' tracks along the base of the foothills. It seemed they were heading for the road that would take them up the mountains to the pass.
Belle trudged along. It had been weeks since she'd walked with Graeme by her side, but still she missed his presence. The way he'd quietly scout ahead. The way he'd fall to the back if one of the others was tired to make sure they were not left in the dust. The way he didn't speak much, but would occasionally make a soft comment or joke to make the journey that much brighter. Funny how she didn't miss it nearly as much as she did now that it was gone.
Red came up to walk beside her mid afternoon. A light snow had begun to fall, just enough to make the company pull the hoods of their cloaks up over their heads and faces. It was a while before Red spoke, softly, not looking directly at Belle.
"Look, Belle, I'm sorry," she said. "It was unfair of me to speak like that last night."
"You care for him, I understand," Belle replied. "I feel the same way."
"I shouldn't have shouted at you."
"It's alright." Belle met Red's eyes with a smile. Red returned it tentatively. "I keep going over it in my head," Belle said. "What I could have done differently. If there was any way I could have saved him."
"We'll get him back. For you, for Snow, for me. We will."
Belle laughed sadly. "I only wish I could believe—"
"HALT!"
Belle spun around. They were surrounded by archers in brown, hooded cloaks. They dropped from trees and came out of the thickets, about a dozen of them.
"Drop your weapons! Put your hands in the air!" The speaker came forward along with one of his men. "Do it now!"
Charming nodded and unbuckled his sheath from his belt. It fell to the hard ground with a thud. Snow followed suit with her bow and Regina with her blade. Belle and Red took their knives and bows from their belts and carefully set them down, their eyes never leaving the archers and the arrows aimed at their hearts.
Disarmed, Belle looked slowly around. The archers were all cloaked and hooded. It was impossible to tell who they might be. Then again, Belle considered, it wasn't unfair. The company's hoods and cloaks concealed their identities as well.
"Hurry up," the leader snapped. Hook had accumulated a small pile of weaponry on the ground around him. Belle could count at least six knives, two pistols, a hatchet, and what looked like several fist-size bombs.
"Going fast as I can, mate." From beneath his coat he took a miniature scimitar and set it down with the rest, taking his time to do so. "Think that's all of it."
"Who are you?" Charming demanded.
"I think I should be asking you that question, knave," the man said. "This land is forbidden to civilians. And all the more to ruffians and pirates."
Belle thanked God and everything that was good in this world that Hook held his tongue at that moment.
Charming motioned for them all to remove their hoods.
"Prince James of Firthana, at your service," he said. "And who might you be?"
The man dropped to his knees and pulled of his hood. His men lowered their weapons and did the same, revealing the figure next to him to be a golden-haired woman. "Your highness," he said, "apologies. I didn't realize—"
"All is well," Charming said. "Your name, sir."
"Sir Frederick," the man said. "And with me, my intended—"
"Princess Abigail," Snow finished, a grin growing on her face. She reached down to help the woman to her feet.
"Snow!" Abigail exclaimed. The two women embraced. "It's been too long."
"What brings you here?" Frederick asked. He picked up Snow's quiver from the ground and handed it to her. Charming stooped to pick up his sword.
"One of my men was captured by a band of ogres headed for the mountain pass."
Frederick nodded, his face turning grave. "My company was headed there ourselves. There have been reports of suspicious ogre behavior in the area. We were sent to gather intelligence after we captured one of the humans with them."
"You are welcome to join us, then," Charming said. "The more men we have, the better."
"Of course, Your Highness," Frederick said. "It's good to see you again."
"And the same to you." Charming looked around tersely, making sure the companies were ready to depart. "We have some time before dark, let's continue."
It was another two days' march to the road up to the pass, and another day before they neared the ogres' encampment. The days were decent enough. Frederick and Abigail's company was pleasant, but it was no replacement for Graeme and disrupted the company's usual patterns. For the first time, Belle truly appreciated the privilege she enjoyed as part of the Prince's elite. She was used to far less rules and much more in the way of teasing and joking. It rather sealed it for her: she was a librarian at heart, not a soldier.
The chance meeting seemed to be good for Snow and Charming though. They welcomed the news from the front and the chance to pass time with their old friends. Really, the one left out was Hook. All Frederick and Abigail's men knew his reputation—he was a pirate, a condemned man on technical pardon. They were good soldiers. A pirate was beneath them.
Once up in the pass, they made camp off the road, a few miles down hill from the top. Red went with some of Frederick's men to scout the enemy's territory just over the ridge. "It's enormous," Red said once they returned, taking a seat with the others around the fire. "I've never seen so many ogres gathered in one place. And it's not just a bunch of them squatting—it's a full army encampment."
"Is there any chance of pulling off a rescue?" Snow asked.
"Not unless we can turn into ghosts or the like," Red said. "It's not just ogres. There are a good number of humans there too. And dogs. Even if he was being kept on the outskirts of the camp, there wouldn't be much of a chance."
"But it's unlikely they're stupid enough to do that again," Hook said from where he sat just outside the circle. "Looks like we're left with the bookworm's plan."
Unfortunately, Belle's plan turned out only being nice in theory. It wasn't as if they could come bearing a white flag and ask to see their leader. That had been tried before. And had ended bloody every time. Ogres didn't recognize the rules of war or attempt to negotiate. If this was a human army, perhaps they'd have a chance, but even with the number of humans in the encampment, chances of getting one of them to help with negotiations was slim.
He came just after sundown.
A man, cloaked in black, followed by two soldiers in frayed and bloodied leather armor. He came without warning, simply walked into their camp. The sentries followed him in, bows loaded and at the ready. Belle saw him first and froze in place, a horrible feeling curling in her gut. There was something wrong about him. Something dark. His very presence commanded attention from everyone in the camp. He was not tall or large or even overtly threatening, yet every man was still, every eye fixed on him.
From the main tent Charming and Snow emerged, followed by Frederick and Abigail. The man bowed low, a refined but mocking gesture.
"Your Highnesses, my lord and lady," he said. His voice was raspy and his accent common. "I am Zoso, the Mage."
Belle's breath caught in her throat. Rum had never told her the names of the other Dark Ones. Zoso, the Mage. The only one she didn't know was the Witch now. Across the camp, recognition—and fear—were plain on Regina's face. No one else might know the title, but at least two of them knew who and what they were dealing with.
"What is your business here?" Charming asked. His voice was loud, commanding, so unlike his usual gentle words.
"I wish to strike a deal," Zoso said. "One that would be in our mutual interest."
"And what would that be?"
"A bargain. For the return of your Huntsman."
A flicker of interest passed over Charming's face. Not for more than a second, but it was enough to betray him.
"And in return?" he asked, voice steady and clear as before.
"You have my man, one Hordor. I'd like him back."
"No other terms?"
"No others."
"I must discuss this," Charming said. "Decisions cannot be made lightly."
"Naturally," Zoso said. "So here's the deal: in three days time, at dawn, I will be waiting at the top of the pass. You will bring my man and I will bring yours. We exchange, you walk free out of these mountains. We all sleep better at night."
"And if we decide against?"
"I'm sure your Huntsman can be put to use. One way or another." Zoso laughed coldly. "You have three days."
"We can't go along with this," Regina said. "It's a trap."
The company—along with Frederick and Abigail—had gathered in Charming and Snow's tent after Zoso left. Hook, as usual was seated casually in the corner while the rest of them stood or sat in the middle of the room. Belle resisted the urge to sigh. The argument was quickly starting to run in circles.
"I'm not so sure," Snow said. "What reason does he have to deceive us?"
"Snow's right," Abigail said. "We have this Hordor. He's been imprisoned in our main camp for a week or so. He's one of the higher-ups in this ogre business. It's no surprise Zoso wants him back."
"He can't be trusted," Regina insisted. Neither she nor Belle, by silent agreement, had revealed the significance of Zoso's title to the rest. For most people, the Dark Ones were myths. It was best to keep it that way. If word spread among the troops that the ogres were headed by the Dark One himself, they'd flee.
"Either way," Frederick said, "it's a two day journey to our camp. If we want even a chance of making this exchange, we have to send someone now."
"But if we don't make the exchange, do we really want to have Hordor sitting here?" Belle asked. "It's practically begging them to come and rescue him. We might not be able to rescue Graeme but they could easily overpower us."
"But there's no reason for us not to make the exchange," Snow said.
"It's not like we exactly have other options," Red added. "There's no way we could get into that camp. Especially not now that Zoso knows we're here. This is the only way to get Graeme back."
"Do we have everything we can get out of Hordor?" Charming asked Frederick.
"There's no way to know. We left days ago. He hadn't cracked, but that doesn't mean he hasn't since."
"We can't trust Zoso to make the exchange," Regina repeated.
"Well, if you have a better idea, please enlighten us!" Red said, throwing her hands up in the air. Belle pressed her palm to her forehead. The tent was hot and the arguing made her head hurt.
"I'm getting a breath of fresh air," she muttered to Hook on her way of the tent. He nodded.
The mountain air outside was cool and soothing. Belle knew she'd soon wish she'd brought a cloak, but for the moment it was nice to be out where it was cold and quiet. She walked out of camp, nodding at the sentries on her way past. The pine woods were dark. The ground was different here than she was used to—a mixture of rock shards and dead pine needles.
"Rum? Are you out here?" she called softly. There was no response. Hours later, when there was still no sign of him, she trudged back to camp. He needed to hear about Zoso. If he didn't already know. Rum would know what to do. If anyone did, it would be him.
A rider left just before dawn, bound for the army's camp. Despite Regina's protests, Hordor was to be fetched. The days passed. Belle went out and waited for Rum every chance she got, but never heard a word. All was silent in the mountain woods, waiting.
"…so since then they've been tracking the ogres through the forest," Belle told Ruby. She took another sip of her iced tea. Ordering the cold drink was really false hope that winter was nearly over. It was much too cold outside for iced anything—unless you were Belle French and trying to get the weather to take a hint. "Except for the part where Gr—The Huntsman was captured by ogres and they tried to rescue him."
"Captured by ogres? That doesn't sound good," Ruby said, smiling. Belle nodded emphatically.
"It was all a mistake really. He was out searching for the other Belle, but couldn't find her. And then he sacrificed himself to save her when they tried to rescue him," Belle said. It wasn't often that her friend asked about her writing other than to wonder when she'd be free to hang out without notebooks around. "It was all a surprise, really. I didn't see the capture coming at all." She shrugged. "Not sure where it's going either."
"Well, it sounds like you'd better get that figured out."
"It'll come to me, I'm sure," Belle said. She took another long sip of her tea. It tasted like it belonged with the warmer spring-like day that it ought to be outside. "Like the snowstorm. Ideas just present themselves when needed."
"Of course." Ruby didn't really get it, that was obvious, but her willingness to go along with it meant worlds to Belle. "Really though, doesn't it all sound rather familiar?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, there's all the similar names—"
"Those will probably change in the edit," Belle said quickly. She knew she probably shouldn't have named the characters after the people she knew, but that was something that could be fixed later. For the moment these names just sounded right.
"Okay," Ruby said. "But it's more than that. The secret love for that Rum character. Red and Graeme's interest in each other. I mean, we even had a snowstorm here too. You don't think that's similar?"
"The story's writing itself. I can't dictate what happens." She'd given that up long ago and never looked back. Loss of control was an easy price to pay for inspiration and the seamless flow of words.
"I wouldn't be so sure," Ruby said. "Sounds like you're writing your life."
Belle glanced up at the clock. "Look, I've got to get home. I have things to do tonight."
"You're not upset with me, are you?"
"No, of course not." Belle gave her friend a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Belle hurried from the diner. What Ruby had said couldn't be true. She wasn't just writing her life. Belle and Graeme and Rum and Hook and Red—they were as real as anyone else. They were separate. They made their own choices. It was no fault of hers if there were some similarities.
She'd so wanted this story to be good. To be something she could be proud of and perhaps one day publish. She'd thought that following Rum's advice would help with that. It kept her writing, didn't it? But the story was supposed to be its own, not some cheap knock-off of her own life and problems. It was supposed to be an escape, not an autobiography. Is that what it had become?
And Rum. Really, he was no help at all. Making her follow the characters' wishes. Sure, sometimes the characters seemed real enough to be standing next to her, but she should have known better. It was all her, the whole time. She made the decisions, not them. That's what one got for listening to a hallucination.
The keys shook in Belle's hands, nearly falling when she tried to unlock the door to her apartment. Dropping her things by the door, she sat cross-legged on her couch, head in her hands.
But there was more to Rum, wasn't there? Too often he knew more than he should. And there was something… off about him whenever Mr. Gold came up in conversation. That wasn't all though. There were little things. Like the story Rum had told the other Belle—it definitely hadn't been her writing that. She could never have come up with it. Even more, now this Zoso character was the Mage just like in the story? What secret was he keeping? She couldn't even begin to figure him out.
Why was she even trying? Rum was a hallucination. A fancy she'd thought up. Probably had some cause a psychologist could find buried in her head. It didn't matter either way. She had to stop listening to him. She'd write using his method because it worked. But other than that, she was done with him.
The sky was slate gray, the same shade as the bare rock that surrounded the pass. Even the snow that had slid down to the bottom of the fissure in the peaks was gray. The pass itself was a long path between two sharp cliff faces.
At one end stood Charming and his men. Snow was beside him, as was Frederick. Red and Belle were just behind, clutching each others' arms for comfort. Hordor was a ways back, hands tied and eyes blindfolded, held by two guards and watched by Hook.
The ogres arrived just as the first hint of sunlight was visible through the pass behind them. They filled the gap between the cliffs, Zoso at their head. It seemed as if he'd brought his entire army along with him.
Both sides advanced until there was about fifty yards between them. A no man's land. Charming motioned with his hand for Hordor to be brought forward. Zoso did the same.
Belle gasped when they brought Graeme forward. He too was bound and blindfolded, but the guards were more carrying him than leading. Even from a distance, Belle could tell he was in pain. He was hunched over, his legs unsteady, his weight supported by the guard next to him. Zoso motioned again and the blindfold was ripped off. Charming followed suit with Hordor.
"Release the prisoners," Frederick called, his voice echoing over and over off the cliff walls.
Both Graeme and Hordor were shoved forward. The latter walked calmly, but Graeme had to struggle for each step. He stumbled, finding it difficult to get his footing in the icy snow. He fell once, but soon pushed himself back to his feet. Belle's hands gripped Red's forearm, white-knuckled. Red gripped Belle's arms in return. Graeme was far from halfway when Hordor passed him. The two men nodded to each other.
Hordor reached Zoso. He gave a terse, shallow bow, then retreated into the ranks of the ogres.
Graeme struggled to reach the halfway point of the no man's land. Belle had to remind herself to breathe regularly as she watched his every step with worry, silently cheering for him, hoping for him. She wanted nothing more than to run out and help him, let him lean his broken body on her, to support him. But doing so would violate this temporary armistice. No one from either side was allowed in the gap besides the prisoners.
He stumbled again. Red gave a little gasp. A moment, then another, and he finally pushed himself up, climbing slowly to his feet as though his every limb was made of cast iron. Once on his feet, he swayed at bit, standing still, bracing himself for the next step.
The twang of a crossbow.
A single black arrow flew across the pass.
It hit Graeme square in the back. He fell forward. The arrow stood straight in the air, pointing directly to his heart.
"NO!"
It took Belle a moment to realize the scream had come from her own mouth. It echoed over and over, reverberating in her ears, filling the canyon. She began to run forward, but hands grabbed her back. She fought, but the grip was too strong. Beside her, Red bit and clawed, trying to get free as well.
"Don't shoot! Hold your weapons!" Charming commanded. Red wrestled free, then screamed as another soldier stopped her again.
Zoso's cold, raspy laugh rang through the pass.
"There will be no peace," he said. "The ogres will destroy every last one of you. Take that back to your King." He spit on the snow, then turned and disappeared into the ranks of ogres. His army followed him, also laughing as Red continued to scream.
Belle couldn't make a sound. Her throat had closed up. She needed to get to Graeme. If only she could get to him everything would be alright. Get to Graeme. That was all.
The last of the ogres disappeared out of the pass and the hands restraining her let go. She ran, nearly falling her desperation, Red only a half pace behind her.
The snow was too red.
All around him it was soaked in scarlet. Belle and Red dropped to their knees. Careful not to dislodge the arrow, they turned him on to his side. His eyes were closed, his face dirty, bruised. There was a gash on his forehead that looked several days old.
Breathing heavily, Belle pressed her fingers to his neck, searching for a pulse. There wasn't one she could find. She choked back panic and pressed her head to his chest. His shirt was thin, barely enough to cover him. He must be freezing. They should bring him a cloak, get him back to camp. It couldn't be good for him to be in the snow in this condition…
There was silence.
No heartbeat.
"No…" Belle whispered. "No… Graeme… please. No. Wake up. Wake up, darling. It's alright."
Tears were streaming down Red's face. She seemed to be in shock, unable to move. Belle could barely meet her eyes. It couldn't be. They just needed a cloak. Warm him up. That was all.
Belle ran her hand through his hair. It was matted with dirt and dried blood.
"Graeme."
END OF ACT II