Hope was coming to the conclusion that sometimes a good spell of unconsciousness was exactly what you needed. For when she came to, she realized that sitting around and deeming herself trapped and powerless was the only thing making her so.
Well she was in a doorless cage and her powers weren't working. But Hope had spent most of her life knowing that her magic was not the most valuable part of her.
No one was coming to save her, she made sure of that, and when that is the case, you are responsible for saving yourself.
Her escape was a puzzle with no easy answer,
If yes is no and once is never, how many sides does a triangle have?
But Hope Jones would be damned if she didn't solve it.
Two, by the way
When she regained her bearings, her mind still recovering from hiding in the bomb shelter of her best memories, she assessed her situation again.
Rowena put her in the cell with magic, given that Hope didn't have hers she was going to have to get Rowena to take her out of it.
She couldn't lie and say that she was on Rowena's side, that she had joined her misandrist crusade, for Rowena held her heart and could easily command her to tell the truth.
Whatever her plan was going to be, lying couldn't be a part of it.
After getting out of the cell she would have to get her heart, defeat Rowena, get the cuff off her wrist, lift her spell blocking inter-realm travel and obtain a means to get home.
Hope knew perfectly well that a plan with that many variables in flux wouldn't be worth much. So in a very William move, she decided to focus on getting out of the cell and deal with the rest later.
And she was fairly certain she had solved that part of the riddle.
The ground of Hope's cell was covered in her blood, the gashes across her body had stopped bleeding but they still burned like hell. They were deep enough to leave scars, but she was pretty sure Rowena had healed them enough that she wasn't at risk of bleeding to death. She needed Hope alive enough to feel pain.
Still, the damage was severe, Hope wasn't even convinced she could stand up without risk of her legs giving way. She was considering this possibility and taking stock of all the other cuts on her body when Rowena reentered the dungeon, her long black dress and hair trailing behind her.
"How you doing, Snape?" Hope quipped from the ground, she knew that Rowena didn't understand the reference, but the resemblance was uncanny. The witch grimaced, understanding it was an insult but not the whole joke.
"Mock me all you wish Miss Jones, but do not forget who holds the power here," Rowena reached into a fold in her dress and pulled out Hope's heart. She felt her entire body stiffen as Rowena's fingers held tight to it.
"Now let's get down to business, I want to cast your dark curse and you are going to help me,"
Hope knew this was her chance, she either advanced on Rowena or she risked being checkmated.
"You cannot cast it, the scroll containing the dark curse is in another realm." Hope paused as if extremely reluctant to continue.
"I could however write a new one," Hope tried to focus on the pain from the gashes to block Rowena from seeing her true motivations. She knew that Rowena was only scanning her mind for lies, as long as Hope remained truthful, Rowena had no reason to dig further.
The familiar burn of power appeared in Rowena's eyes, Hope had her attention.
"I studied a great deal of fairy lore in my training. Though I never thought I would have to, I learned how to build a curse,"
Another true statement, Hope recalled the tutoring she received as a teenager from Mother Superior because Rumple had refused to indulge fairy magic quite fondly.
"Now why would such an honorable girl like yourself learn how to make a dark curse?" Rowena's grip on her heart tightened, she felt her whole body lurch but she maintained calm.
"You have to understand dark magic to understand how to stop it," she answered simply.
With that, Rowena raised Hope's heart in front of her and began giving commands.
"Hope Jones, I am going to release you from this cell, and you shall write me a dark curse of my own,"
Hope heard the order deep inside her head, a commanding imperative burning in her mind. She couldn't disobey, every bone in her body was begging her to do what Rowena said.
"I will need access to many magical items,"
This was important, Hope needed several things for her plan to be successful. Rowena raised her heart again,
"I will allow you into my workshop so you may craft my curse. But you are to touch nothing that you do not require and you will not change the curse in any way,"
This command pounded in her head just like the last one had.
"I will write you a dark curse just like the one my Aunt Regina once cast," Hope said, another truth. She recalled what a family friend had told her once as a child, when he was explaining how he prevented his nose from growing.
The easiest way to get away with a lie is to tell the truth.
She was pretty sure August would be pretty damn impressed with her now.
Before Hope could think anything else, she found herself wrapped in a cloud of green smoke, when it dissipated, she was no longer on the floor of her cell, but standing on her wobbly legs in the center of a grand workshop.
Spell books and ingredients lined the walls in shelves stretching all the way to the ceiling. A large wooden table stood in the center of the room with parchment strewn across it. Hope turned abruptly to face the witch, nearly falling off her injured legs as she did.
"I'll need my hand back," she gestured with her flat wrist. Rowena looked at her skeptically, but this was nonnegotiable.
"I should be asking to remove this cuff but I am not, at least grant me my hand." Hope masked her desperation in exasperation, she felt ridiculously exposed without her hand. She was not ashamed of having one hand by any means, but the whole reason she had a false hand was so that her life was not impeded.
Rowena relented and removed Hope's false hand from another pocket of her robes. She placed it on the table before once again holding Hope's heart out in front of her.
"You will do nothing other than write my curse exactly like the one that took you family to Storybrooke the first time,"
The command echoed in her mind, Hope recoiled at hearing the name of her beloved home on Rowena's lips.
Oh I'll write you a curse you fucking bitch.
But Hope merely nodded, she wished she could get Rowena to remove the cuff, but she was not a fool. Rowena would know that while she needed magic to activate the curse, she needed none to write it. She turned towards the shelves to begin working but quickly turned back to face Rowena.
"It will take some time, a few weeks at least," Hope immediately regretted this statement as her body exploded in pain once again, she felt her knees give way and a scream burst past her lips, Rowena's eyes only narrowed.
"I pray you will survive that long," an evil smile crept across her face, taking great pleasure at seeing the young woman, who was known for her strength, be brought to her knees.
It was not lost on Hope that Rowena's respect for strong women did not overrule her desire for power and control. She wanted to see Hope suffer, and she barely cared if it cost her her plans.
Hope truly had met her match in the Sorceress Rowena.
She rose unsteadily to her feet, praying fervently that her knees wouldn't buckle again. Hope could feel that the wounds on her back had reopened, blood began to trickle down her back. Every piece of her body begged her to collapse, to give up.
The brave, strong and beautiful Hope Jones didn't know if she could bear the pain for another second, let alone the weeks it would take to build the curse.
And as her mind begged her to quit and her knees wavered, it was once again her heart that pulled her back.
You told Hugo you'd come back.
You promised your parents you'd come back.
You didn't promise William anything but you sure as hell can't stop fighting.
When you love something, you don't quit fighting.
So Hope didn't quit fighting. She steadied herself on the table while she reattached her right hand. She then closed her eyes to focus, and her hands set to work.
Thus began the most tedious weeks of Hope's life.
Weaving together a curse was dangerous and time consuming, even more so when your hands shook from exhaustion and pain. Every night Rowena would return Hope to the dark cell in the dungeon, and open her wounds enough for Hope to moan and cry herself to sleep.
She lived in a cycle, every time the wounds had started healing, Rowena's talons would wrench her flesh apart once again. She grew thinner with every day, the meager rations Rowena supplied wouldn't have fed a rat let alone a human.
At some point around day nine, Hope had lost track, Hope caught a look at herself in the reflection of a potion she was brewing to imbue magic into the parchment, (potion making itself does not necessarily require magic).
Her face had grown gaunt, the circles under her eyes seemed so dark as to be permanent. Her hair, once thick and curly, was matted with blood and dirt. But she knew the worst part to her family would be the look in her eyes, usually full of light and joy. Her blue eyes, so like her father's, had darkened to gray like the sea before a storm.
She had always been praised for her beauty, she resembled her father to be sure, but there had been few boys (and few girls) in Storybrooke who hadn't had their eye on Hope Jones. As she saw the broken and solemn woman reflected back at her, Hope could barely bring herself to wonder if WIlliam would even want her if she survived.
Of course he will.
Some fragment of her former self told her. With every day, Hope found joy and gladness increasingly difficult, if not impossible to manage.
Hope had never considered the mental toll having one's heart removed caused, but with every day her heart resided in Rowena's clutches, Hope felt her vitality fading away and worst of all, the hope leaving her mind.
For the first time in her life, Hope was truly hopeless. Even when she had been hiding from Rowena, she had Henry's message and the knowledge that Rowena had no control over her to bring her comfort.
But Hope clung to the idea that she would see her family again, with every scorching blaze of pain she imagined falling into her parents' arms.
Or the painfully bony embrace she would receive from Hugo.
Or the familiar gentility of her grandparents.
Or the breathless feeling she would get after William kissed her again.
And that was how Hope survived as she wrote the curse, moment to moment, begging her mind to cling to the happiness she could only imagine. For without her heart, the memories of her past brought her only sorrow and anguish.
It ended up being the twenty third day in captivity when Hope finally finished the curse. She laid down the quill, moved the inkwell aside, and with trembling hands she held the scroll up to the light. Hope couldn't even bring herself to breathe on it, lest she ruin everything.
Despite everything, a small smile graced Hope's face, she held her ticket home, if only she could use it correctly.
So with her voice as unstable as her hands, she called for Rowena, who appeared in the room in a now familiar cloud of swamp green smoke. She offered Hope a false smile,
"You rang?"
"I'm done"
Hope's usually witty comebacks had disappeared over the time she spent in Rowena's clutches, she was so weary and pained that even the smallest of sentences cost her extreme amounts of energy.
Rowena's eyes glowed red with greed as she saw the scroll in Hope's hands. She looked almost hungry for it, as if without the power of the curse she would never survive.
The sorceress snatched the curse from Hope, victory written all over her. As Hope had grown thin and pitiful, Rowena had grown regal and powerful. She was every bit Goliath to Hope's David.
But everyone knows David wins, and Hope had one hell of a slingshot.
The second the scroll was in Rowena's hands, Hope leaned forward and blew. Before Rowena could even process what was happening, the words of the curse had lifted off the scroll. The dark ink wrapped around Rowena, glowing blue as it spread across her skin.
For the first time in weeks, a grin burst across Hope's face
"What have you done, you foolish girl?" Rowena cried as she fruitlessly attempted to move.
"I haven't done anything except what you asked. I made you a curse exactly like my Aunt Regina's. It would have worked perfectly well as a dark curse,"
Hope paused as she reached into Rowena's robe, the witch powerless to stop her, and removed the bag containing her heart. Even as she felt it beating through the bag, she felt almost as if she had been struck by lightning, the life trying to return to her body.
"I wrote you a dark curse. You just failed to see what it was written in," Hope was giddy with the excitement of her plan succeeding, her hand grazed over her hook tattoo once again.
"It is a poor excuse for a pirate who doesn't recognize squid ink,"
And with that, Hope plunged her heart back into her chest, the sorrow clouding her memories flew away in an instant. Her injuries were still prominent, but her spirits soared into the sky.
Hope quickly went about gathering the other things she needed. Thankfully, Rowena had enjoyed torturing Hope by keeping her sword in a case in the workshop. Rowena's command to touch only what she needed to build the curse had prevented her from retrieving it until now. She then grabbed one other magical item she had been eyeing for weeks, she nodded to herself, confirmed what it was and then turned back to Rowena.
"I'm sorry,"
Rowena looked taken aback by the apology, surely there was no way that the girl she had spent weeks upon weeks torturing was apologizing to her.
She clearly knew nothing about Hope Jones.
"What are you sorry for?" Malice laced every word Rowena spoke, it was clear she had nothing but contempt for the woman who had just outsmarted her.
"A man hurt you once, if your disdain for the night I spent with Will is any indication, you had your innocence stolen by one. No one deserves that, and as I am sure the world has never apologized for being cruel to you, let me be the first,"
Hope was an observant person, Rowena may not have spoken openly about why she did what she did, but Hope knew enough about villains and had heard enough in her time in captivity to form a pretty good guess as to what sparked Rowena's love of pain and chaos.
Rowena stared daggers at Hope, a Medusa like stare that would have killed if it had the ability.
"Not everyone has a father they adore as much as you do Jones." The sorceress spat,
"Magic is a commodity in this realm that few have, I possess it purely by chance."
An unfamiliar softness entered the witch's voice, it wasn't kindness, but Hope got the sense that Rowena had not told this story in a long time.
Hope was well aware that she was most likely only indulging Hope with her origin story to bide her time until the squid ink wore off. But Hope was not majorly concerned, she had back up plans for most things.
"My mother died delivering me, and as soon as I displayed magic, all my father saw in me was a way to profit,"
Hope's icy stare at the witch softened. The first time she herself had ever displayed magic had been unintentional. She had been six years old and she had not been allowed to go to a party her parents were attending. In her anger, she had knocked her father out of her room and slammed the door.
She had then immediately burst into tears and ran to her father, apologizing profusely and swearing to herself that she would never hurt him ever again. He had held her and dried her tears, her mother came running up the stairs and did the same.
She started magical training the very next week.
Hope's parents had done nothing but nurture and care for her magic, Rowena's father had done nothing but use it.
"Soon they weren't just buying my magic, they were buying me."
Hope knew exactly the kind of horrible things that vile people would enjoy doing to a vulnerable young girl.
"Men liked to see me in pain, and I realized as I got older, I didn't want to be free of them, I wanted to watch them suffer like they watched me,"
The momentary sadness that had appeared in Rowena's eyes was replaced with an all too familiar rage, even frozen she was almost vibrating at the thought of her torturers.
"So you made a living causing wars, making man kill man, and when they wouldn't do it for you, you killed them yourself."
Hope filled in the story, with as much hatred as she had for the woman, who had caused her endless amounts of pain, she could not stop her heart from lurching with empathy for the witch.
"My power will never again be enslaved by men," Rowena murmured.
As easy as it would have been to run, Hope couldn't stop herself from speaking.
"You do not have to do this, the world has been nothing but cruel to you, but that does not mean you must be cruel in return. If you fight fire with fire the world goes up in flames."
Hope believed with everything in her that no one was so bad they could not change, she had told William that when they climbed the beanstalk. And she had been told that her whole life. She could not just let Rowena go without giving her a chance.
"Perhaps the world deserves to burn,"
"Or perhaps you could use your power to make it better. Instead of hurting the men, save the women. Letting revenge consume you is a surefire way to deny yourself a happy ending. There is a better path for everyone, even you," Hope spoke quickly, as she knew the squid ink would not last much longer. But her plea fell on deaf ears.
"Rot in hell as your father should have!"
Rowena shouted, such a taunt usually would have enraged Hope. But she was too tired and had truly hoped she could turn Rowena. With a heavy heart and a sad look, she pressed a button on the box she held in her hand and held it out in front of her.
Rowena was once again shocked as she was pulled into the box. It was not Pandora's box, as that was back in Storybrooke, but Hope had recognized it as an item of similar function. It was covered in runes that Hope could not entirely read, she guessed it had been made by some witch or wizard that Rowena had fought in the hope that it could contain her. Hope was incredibly thankful that even though that witch or wizard had fallen at Rowena's hands, they had made a competent device.
If Hope was lucky, it might just be able to carry her all the way home.
With Rowena out of her way, Hope took stock of what she still had to do. She was still covered in deep wounds, the adrenaline of her plan succeeding was wearing off, the pain wracking her body returning with full force.
Rowena would never remove the cuff voluntarily, and Hope was in no state to make her, so she would have to manage without magic for the time being. Fortunately her mother had taught her what to do in this exact situation.
Hope quickly set to cleaning her wounds (as best she could for some were very hard to reach) before she redressed, still feeling a bit lightheaded and definitely still in pain, but slightly more alert. And definitely at less risk of bleeding out.
The new problem she faced was that she needed someone magical to remove the cuff blocking her magic, and the only person she knew other than herself was currently locked in a box. She had a plan to return to Storybrooke, but executing it without magic would be quite difficult.
Not that it would be easy under normal circumstances.
Hope was a brilliant and capable woman, who was more than willing to admit when she needed help. To rid this world of Rowena's evil and make her way home she would need significant aid. Luckily, Hope already had an idea of where to get it.
She made her way to Rowena's stables to find her own horse chomping at the bit in agitation. Whatever journey she was to make, she would not get far on foot. He clearly did not enjoy being locked up for so long, though he had been somewhat well fed. Hope thanked God for that, at least one of them had to be in fighting shape.
She quickly, and painfully, mounted the horse and took off due southwest. With every step the horse took, Hope's body shook in pain. She recognized reluctantly that her wounds had been inflicted by magic, and would not be so easily healed.
It was almost laughable, Hope had spent her life preparing for what to do if she lost her magic. She had come to think of it almost as a burden, as if it made her less capable in her other talents. She had recalled several times she had tried to wish her magic away.
But what she wouldn't give to have it now.
She rode through the night for she knew that she could not fight in her condition and she was in no mood to outwit. She was exhausted, weak and out of practice, the usually very positive statistics roaming through her mind had changed drastically. Though Hope loathed telling herself the odds, she knew her odds of surviving a fight or really any kind of issue were low enough to be significant. So she held tightly to her horse's mane, closed her eyes and urged them forward.
By morning she was greeted by the welcome realization that she knew where she was, the familiar smell of salt water wafted through the air and tracks in the forest ground around her indicated civilization nearby. She was near a seaside kingdom, and if she had judged her initial position at Rowena's correctly, she was exactly where she wanted to be.
Her horse was exhausted as they strolled into King Bertrand's kingdom, much more quiet than it had been during the annual ball, Hope's bedraggled state still turned more than a few heads as they made their way through town.
She willed her horse not to collapse, thanking him profusely as they rode, if her calculations were correct, he had turned a nearly three days ride into one. As Hope Jones was usually guilty of doing, her mind began to kick itself.
This horse shows unending loyalty and puts itself through constant pain for your protection.
He was imprisoned because of you.
Hope could hear her brother laughing at her. Hugo knew her fatal flaw better than anyone, she had sacrificed her own hand to save him after all.
"You can afford to be a little more Han Solo and a little less Luke Skywalker." He had said to her once. She had laughed then, saying she was more Princess Leia (in more ways than one) than anything.
What she wouldn't give to tell him he had been right all along.
When she reached the palace, Hope dismounted her horse with her shaky legs, the box containing Rowena clutched tightly in her hand, sending the horse off to rest somewhere as she walked towards the front door. She had walked right into the ball under an alias, but this time she was willing to bet that the truth would serve her better than any lie.
Two guards blocked the door, which was less than she had anticipated. Had she been in good health she could have taken them both out easily, but all she had at her disposal was her mind, and even that wasn't at its sharpest.
"Who are you and what is your purpose here?" the guard on the left asked, he was young, perhaps younger than Hope herself, she guessed he was training under the much older guard on the right.
"I am Princess Hope and I have business with Crown Prince Derek." She mustered up all the regality she had but knew that given her current state, very few would believe her to be a princess.
"The Prince did not tell us to expect anyone," the older guard spoke this time.
Hope glanced back at the younger guard, her mind raced to remember if she knew how long Bertrand's guards trained for, William said he attended school with the captain. Which meant there was a pretty good chance that this young man had encountered William as well.
"I have information for the Prince regarding his former advisor,"
She let her face betray nothing else of her plan, bearing as little emotion as she could.
As she had hoped, the younger guard's eyebrows shot up and his stoic visage dropped.
"William? You have news of William?" he asked eagerly. Hope nodded as the other guard regarded her cautiously.
"The Prince does not accept visitors regardless of-"
"The Prince will see you, come Princess,"
The two guards spoke at the same time, but the older one was cut off as the young guard whisked Hope inside the castle and began hurriedly escorting her down the great hall.
"I came from nothing just as William did, he was always very kind to me in school, I never believed what they said about him," the young man informed Hope in a hushed tone as they reached what Hope assumed to be the throne room.
"You do have news of him don't you?"
She saw the first trace of doubt on his face as he wondered if he had just let an assassin into the palace or something. Hope smiled kindly.
"I do, please, tell me your name. I will be sure to tell William how you assisted me when I see him next." Hope begged God or Zeus or whatever deity apparently had it out for her to make that some time very soon.
"The Prince is just through there, I believe he is alone at the moment," the young man leaned forward as if to reveal a secret.
"He is rarely alone these days, he seems to be attached at the hip to Princess Evelyn, and my name is Grant,"
"Well Grant I can only offer you my sincerest thanks, but I will not forget your kindness," Hope offered the man a smile, though she feared he would see the tears welling in her eyes, the pain from the slashes in her legs was growing unbearable.
Grant smiled back and graciously opened the door, Hope had introduced herself as a princess after all.
She stumbled into the throne room, drawing the attention of Prince Derek who was alone as Grant had said. Hope had been hired to ensure the prince's engagement but she had never really looked at him. Sure enough, she could see William's resemblance to his cousin. Their hair was different, as were their eyes, but they shared the same noble brow and strong jaw. And though the eye color was different, there was a familiar kindness in Derek's somewhat shocked face.
"I beg your pardon, your Highness, my name is Hope Jones, I am a friend of your former advisor William,"
Hope quickly supplied. She had decided as she made her grand escape from this world that keeping her name a tightlipped secret wasn't worth it. With any luck, she wouldn't be around to feel any consequences.
With this statement though, Derek's expression grew grim, the kindness fading from his eyes.
"I do not know how you got in here but William is a thief who stole from my father, a man who had cared for Will all his life. He is an ungrateful criminal and any friend of his is not welcome here,"
Derek spoke coldly, but Hope could feel that his heart wasn't in it. He was repeating a sentiment no doubt drilled into him by his father. An advisor is a king's closest friend, if William was training to be Derek's, there was no doubt that they were incredibly close.
Derek gestured towards the door from which she had entered and began to move as if to push her out but Hope interrupted.
"But have you ever asked yourself why your father cared for William? Or why he had just been around your whole life?" Hope knew it should be William revealing this secret, but he wasn't here and Hope needed Derek's help. It was time the Prince knew his true family history.
"My father cared for William because he is a kind man. William took advantage of my father's generosity."
Once again, Derek's voice wavered, Hope could tell that he loathed to believe such truths about his best friend.
Hope closed her eyes and steadied herself before speaking again,
"Your father cared for William because his mother was your father's younger sister," Derek moved to cut her off but Hope held out her hand to stop him.
"Your aunt became pregnant with the Duke of Darnwell, and when he refused to marry her, your grandparents arranged for her to become a whole new person, the seamstress you knew. William was raised alongside you because he is your cousin. He only stole from the the kingdom because-"
"The Duke convinced my father to banish William because he feared he would try to claim his title,"
Derek finished for her, realization dawning on his face. Though it seemed like such a story would merit more convincing, it was clear that Derek knew his family and the Duke well enough to know that it very well might be true.
"Why did Will never tell me this?" he looked back to Hope, his eyes growing wide with a childlike pain. Hope tried to note every detail of his expression to tell William later, Derek clearly could not fathom why his friend would keep such a secret.
"I do not know, I imagine that while his mother lived, it was for her safety and after her death he was banished without a chance to," Hope offered, though it was all speculation.
It was at this point that Derek took a hard look at the gaunt, injured and bony woman before him. While he had been processing the story, he hadn't even considered how she might know it.
"Who are you?" A bewildered look had appeared on Derek's face as he asked, Hope inhaled deeply and launched into the story.
How she had met William robbing the Duchy and he began to chase her.
How she had gotten noticed by Rowena at the ball.
How she had been imprisoned by Rowena and had in turn imprisoned the bitch in a box.
She did her best to omit nearly all the romance, she did not see it entirely fair to tell Derek when she had not even been able to recount the story to her own brother. Derek remained enthralled the whole time, particularly when she handed him the box allegedly containing the wicked sorceress. His eyebrows had furrowed in worry,
"I told father that accepting Rowena's help was unwise, but he insisted that her magical weapons were needed. I convinced him to stop using them after the catastrophe at the ball." Derek informed her, Hope refrained from reminding him that she had been the catalyst for that catastrophe.
The Prince's eyes then lit up as he jumped to look at Hope again, almost startling her as he did.
"But years ago, my grandfather King Nicholas was kidnapped by fairies, they tortured and humiliated him right in the town square, following the incident he was too shy and embarrassed to speak to anyone, save for his family. Queen Dora had a series of tunnels built throughout the castle so he could go anywhere he wanted. But you see, she loathed magic for what it had done to her husband. So she called upon all those who wield magic to build a special cell to contain anyone wielding it for evil, she wanted a sufficient way to punish the fairies. Very few came forward to build it, understandably so, but the cell managed to be built in the dungeon. It still stands and I guarantee it can hold Rowena."
The young man explained excitedly, Hope nearly fainted in relief, that was the best news she could have hoped for. She recalled how William had used the tunnels Derek described to enter the ball; she wondered if he knew about the magic cell, or even about his grandmother's disdain for magic. She certainly hoped he didn't share it.
"Are you alright? Pardon me for saying so, but you do not look well,"
Derek interrupted Hope's thoughts, she winced at the minor insult but knew he was right. She may have once been beautiful enough to convince the sea to stop moving, but that beauty had since departed. Some magical healing and good meal would bring it back, but she had to get home before getting those things. And she was almost certain that the scars would always remain.
"I am afraid these wounds are magically inflicted and must be magically healed. I shall return home tomorrow where such a feat is possible, if you will allow me to stay here tonight." If she could, she would return that very moment, but Hope was as weary as she had ever been. She was practically dead on her feet, she hadn't had a moment of rest since her dashing escape the day prior. It was a miracle she hadn't collapsed already.
"Of course m'lady," Derek paused with a twinkle in his eye, "Anything for William's love,"
Hope snapped back into attention, her eyes wide like a deer, she had said almost nothing of her personal relationship with William. The prince laughed lightly,
"William would not tell you such a story unless he cared deeply for you, and given the look in your eyes I can only assume that you care deeply for him. May I ask where he is?"
"He is safe and far from here," Hope paused this time, a truth threatening to burst past her lips that she had not admitted.
For years she had been trying to find herself and get back to her family. That was all she wanted, to run to them. And though she loved them more than life itself, she wasn't just running to them anymore.
"I am trying to get back to him," the words came like a weight off her shoulders. After all this time she understood how her parents had felt with her father trapped in the Underworld or Neverland. For Hope knew that if she could, she would run to William no matter what stood in her way.
There was never such a sweet pain as being kept from the thing you love the most.
Not that he was a thing.
Derek smiled and offered Hope his arm and disheveled as she was, she took it (she was still a princess).
"Well then let's get you back to him,"
Tears threatened to fall for Hope once again, this time of joy, for she knew exactly how she would get home.
And for the first time in a long while, Hope Jones dreamt only of joy and gladness and nearly forgot everything else.