Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Once Upon a Time. This is story is not intended for profit, just as a tribute to the amazing writing, characters, and intricate plots therein.

Author's Note: So in this chapter, I tried to find a somewhat logical explanation for the flukes that shooting a television show throughout about nine months between western Canada and a soundstage in California can do to weather consistency, and what a concise storyline makes necessary when plotting how the characters get from point A to point B in hours when it should take weeks. The answer? It's magic. And once again, I'm sort of borrowing a little from Mercedes Lackey, this time her Five Hundred Kingdoms series. Also, there is a mention of one of the Arabian Nights tales and The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Credit where it's due, and all that.

And speaking of credit, muchas gracias to my wonderful beta, Willofthewisp!

Chapter 3—Searching for a Fairy


His men were not at all happy about being discharged, albeit only temporarily. Their displeasure (presumably out of loyalty to him) bothered Killian some, but it was his ship, damn it, and he'd be buggered by the lot of them and marooned on a sandbar before he left the Jolly Roger in the care of his crew without his own strict supervision. Besides, he had promised them he would return in a few weeks, two months at most, to collect them. So when they put into port, his crew—including a protesting Mr. Smee—disembarked and disbursed to places unknown.

Killian and Henry worked together to sail the Jolly Roger to the secluded harbor they had chosen on the map. It wasn't far from the port in which he had left his crew but small enough that the scant amount of plunder he had was enough to bribe the harbormaster to keep an eye on his girl for the time it would take to go north and come back. Killian added a threat for good measure. He had found that when a man had the sharp point of a hook next to his eye, he was far more likely comply.

"Ready, lad?" Killian called out to Henry from his cabin as he slung his satchel over his head. He'd packed a compass, his spyglass, some bandages and ointment in case of injury, a few spare shirts, the map, a scrap of black cloth he could use as a scarf if they came across colder weather, his whetstone, oil, and polish to clean his hook and sword, and his flask of rum, which was possibly the most important thing. Other than the clothes on his back, that was all he deemed worth taking.

Killian heard a soft grunt followed by a strained, "Ready!"

He found Henry in the hall outside his bunk. The lad's overburdened pack clearly dug into his young shoulders and caused him to have to bend slightly forward to remain upright. Killian raised a brow and shook his head. "You'll topple over before we make it to the road. Just what do you have in there?"

Henry shrugged, or tried to. "A little of everything. Some food, canteens of water, some extra weapons, a few maps I drew of where I think we should start looking, a tinder box and flint, a hat…"

Killian didn't know whether to laugh or scold him. Apparently Henry had no clue about how to prepare for a journey. First he had left home in his night clothes with nothing but the boots on his feet. Now he overcompensated by packing everything that crossed his mind.

"Empty it out, lad," Killian ordered, pointing to the now bare bed. Likely the boy had packed the sheets and pillow as well. "Let's see if we can pare this down a bit so you don't end up a hunchback."

"I know a story about a hunchback," Henry said as he pulled the straps of the knapsack from his shoulders. "He was a hero."

"I know a story about a hunchback, too," Killian told him. "He choked on a fishbone and died, causing quite a funny chain of events as everyone tried to cover up his death."

"I've never heard that one," Henry said with some excitement. "You'll have to tell me on the way north. It'll help pass the time."

Now Killian did laugh. Henry was easier to entertain than Bae had been. Another difference between childhood and youth, he supposed.

He signaled Henry to dump the contents of the pack and stood back as a veritable arsenal and nearly an entire pantry tumbled out. The boy had clearly raided the galley by the looks of some of those knives, to say nothing of the food itself, and a small soup pot. There were also two pistols and shot though no powder, Killian noted, a small crossbow—he didn't know who it belonged to or why the crewman had it; it certainly hadn't been used that he could remember—bolts for the crossbow, and a garrote. Surely Henry couldn't know what that was for.

"Are you planning a siege?"

Henry shrugged again. "I'm not sure what we'll be up against, so I wanted to be prepared."

"Aye, but we also need to be practical," Killian advised. "We don't have money for horses, which means we'll be walking unless we can hitch a ride or steal some mounts." He ignored the boy's frown; exactly what did he think pirates did? "We need to be able to cover a good distance without tiring. True, there are places in the Infinite Forest where distance sort of…" he waved his hand as he grasped for a term, "pinches together or loops back on itself. I don't really understand it, but you can cover vast distances in hours that should take you weeks, if not months. But they move about, so you can't count on running across one when you need it. So we pack light and resupply later, as needed."

Henry nodded, seeing the sense.

Killian helped him repack the knapsack. Left out were all of the weapons, including the garrote—which thankfully Henry had assumed was for cutting cheese. Also discarded was a nearly full oil lantern, several of Henry's self-made maps, and most of the cooking implements. Back in went the canteens and food: dried meat and fish, hardtack biscuits, some apples, cheese, and a pilfered soup bone that the cook was going to be even angrier about than the good knives. Also packed were the tinderbox and flint, the little pot, the hat along with another "borrowed" shirt form one of the skinnier crewmen, and two of the knives.

"Try it now."

Henry shouldered the much lighter pack, tested the weight by bouncing his shoulders a bit, and nodded, smiling. "Better."

"Good. Now let's go. Dawn broke a half hour ago, and we've got a long day ahead of us."

Killian led him up the stairs to the deck and motioned Henry ahead of him, down the gangplank. While the boy waited, he took one last farewell of his ship. The Jolly Roger was his home, his mission, his reminder of the past, and the only love he had. And he felt an unsettling foreboding that he wouldn't be seeing her for a while longer than he was expecting. Or that he wouldn't be the same when he did. He felt as if he were saying goodbye forever.

Which made no sense. There was no reason for such maudlin sentimentality. Whatever happened, he would be back for the Jolly, one way or another. He could not imagine anything that would make him abandon his ship permanently.

But then, the last time he had felt like this, he tried to talk Liam into leaving the bloody Dreamshade alone, and getting the hell out of Neverland. It was that same creeping anxiety that something was not right that itched under his skin now. Something was about to happen, and it would affect him in ways he could not imagine.

He glanced down at Henry, and wondered this boy was the herald of his doom the way Pan had been for Liam.

Henry innocently looked back, shifting from foot to foot as he waited. "Are you coming?"

"Aye, lad." Killian shook himself. He wasn't his brother. The moment things went south, Killian would leave, abandoning the boy if necessary, though that would be his last resort. He had certainly done it before, after all.

"Let's be off."


They left the little town behind within an hour. It wasn't much more than a fishing village on the edge of the Forest, and soon even the little paths used by the villagers to collect firewood and set snares to supplement their dinners disappeared, and Henry and Killian were in the deep woods. Two hours later, they found a little stream, refilled their canteens, and pulled out some of the jerky and hardtack to gnaw on before hunger forced them to stop entirely. After refilling, Killian suggested they follow the stream backward to its source since it was flowing southward and their destination lay to the north.

Henry had, as promised, demanded Killian tell him the story of the hunchback who choked on a fishbone, which amused them both for a while, and then he reciprocated by telling Killian of the heroic hunchback who lived in a bell tower and saved a gypsy girl from an evil cleric who wanted to burn the devil out of her. Then Killian told a tale known to most sailors about the sirens of the deep, and Henry repaid him with a story about the knights of the kingdom of Camelot, which had fallen to its own darkness a generation ago. He seemed to enjoy tales of the heroic, chivalrous trope.

"So, tell me more about this princess we're off to rescue," Killian said. It was mid-afternoon now, and in a few hours, they would need to consider a place to stop and make camp for the night. But until then, they may as well keep their game going.

"Well," Henry started, fighting through some of the thicker brush along the edge of the stream. "I think I already told you she's the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, didn't I?"

"You did," he confirmed.

"Snow White and her Prince were great and benevolent rulers," Henry recited, as if it were the beginning of a tale. "But they were more than just leaders who sat on their thrones as figureheads. They were warriors who had defeated the wicked King George in battle. They were cunning and tricked the Evil Queen so that she could never personally hurt them. And they were compassionate enough that they gave even a villainess a chance to redeem herself. They even out-smarted the Dark One and locked him away for years."

"Locked him away, you say?" Smee had already told him as much, but Henry seemed to have some interesting tidbits about recent history that the first mate may not have been able to uncover in only a few hours. Killian tried for nonchalance as he pressed on. "How did they do that?"

"Something about a magical quill," Henry said. "But I'm not sure about the details."

Blast. Not more than Killian expected, but a shame not to have more information. Still it was more than he had before. And if the Crocodile could be trapped once, perhaps he could be again. And perhaps a quill would once again prove more capable than a sword when confronting the Dark One.

"He got out, though," Henry continued. "When the Evil Queen's army attacked the castle, all of Snow White and Charming's forces were called back to defend them, leaving the Dark One's cell unguarded. Somehow, he escaped."

"Bad luck, that."

"I guess." Henry did not sound particularly bothered by the Dark One's escape. "Anyway, the Princess is their daughter. Before she was born, there was a Prophesy made. A dark curse that was going to engulf the entire land loomed over the whole Enchanted Forest, but no one knew when it would strike. And the only one who could break the curse was the Princess. She would be the Savior and return all the happy endings."

"So the Dark Curse broke, but then the Princess was cursed?" Killian guessed. "Or was she cursed to prevent her from becoming the Savior?"

"Neither," Henry said, shaking his head. "The Dark Curse never struck, and no one knows why. One day the forest was buzzing with magical potential, and the animals were terrified. And the next day, it was like a storm on the horizon just broke up and disappeared."

"Your friend the knight offered no insights into why that might be?" he asked, lifting a stubborn branch high enough that Henry could pass beneath it.

"He didn't know either," the boy said. "He just knew that one day the Queen was ready to cast the curse, she went out into the Thorny Wood to meet with her allies, and the next morning, nothing." Henry took a turn holding a shrub back as Killian passed, taking the opportunity to smile up at him and shrug. "He told me that he was out of favor at the time, so he wasn't around the Queen much."

"Ah. Guarding the chicken coop, was he?"

Henry laughed and they continued on.

"So why curse the Princess, then?" Killian asked.

"It was years later," he explained. "The curse never happened, but the Evil Queen still hated Snow White. She was prevented from killing Snow or her family because of a spell placed upon her kept her from hurting them directly, so she teamed up with King George, who had been banished after his defeat, and they mounted an armed attack. The soldiers broke through the castle defenses, and although the forces of good fought, they were defeated. But the Princess had been sent into hiding. When the Queen found her, the spell that kept Snow White's family safe stopped Regina from killing the princess."

"But she could still curse her," Killian finished. "That explains it."

"So you see, the power to be the Savior is still in the Princess," Henry insisted. "She still has the power to bring back the happy endings. And we could use some."

"The defeat of the Evil Queen?"

"That," Henry said, nodding. "And others. Thomas the Younger of the Eastern Kingdom is still missing, and Thomas the Elder has practically banished Princess Ella because he blames her for his son's disappearance. She hasn't been allowed to see her daughter in years."

"Plus the Dark One running amok and ruining lives," Killian added.

"Exactly! And in the Great Western Kingdom, the sorceress Maleficent still terrorizes the countryside as a dragon whenever she gets bored of hiding in the Forbidden Fortress. You hear stories about families separated, scattered or imprisoned, all the time. It's got to stop!"

Killian looked down at Henry's outburst. The expression on his face—the same as when he had worn when he insisted that the knight who had first told him of the Princess was telling the truth—made the shriveled remains of Killian's heart ache. It was the look of someone who had seen too much in too short a time to really process it: half sad, half angry, and willing to do anything in his power to stop it. Killian knew the look. He'd felt it on his own face. He had seen it on Baelfire's. Killian had to wonder if all of Henry's enthusiasm and good cheer was, at least partially, a mask. He wondered if there wasn't more to this boy than he had first thought.

Likely, Killian thought. After all, what do I really know about him?

"You're right, lad," he agreed. "It has to stop."

Henry stopped a moment. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, resettling his shoulder, or more likely the invisible weight atop them. When he opened his eyes again, the troubled look had passed, replaced with determination.

"And we're going to stop it," he piped. "Or, well, the Princess is, but we'll rescue her, and then she'll rescue us."

"Reciprocity," he mused. "I like it."

They trudged onward a few more minutes without talking. Then Killian was forced to ask, "How exactly do we rescue her?"

"I…haven't gotten that far yet," Henry admitted with a sheepish grin and shrug of his shoulders. "I was hoping that the Blue Fairy could tell us exactly what kind of curse the Princess is under, and how to break it."

"And if she doesn't know?"

"Well, I've always heard that True Love's Kiss could break any curse."

"You planning on falling in love, mate?" Killian teased.

"No! Ew!"

Henry giggled, actually giggled, and shook his head. Only a ten-year-old would laugh at the idea of kissing. It had been so long since Killian had teased anyone without it being spiteful, so long since he'd been at all lighthearted, that Henry's reaction made him laugh, too. And once it started they fed off each other. As soon as one began to get some control back, he glanced at the other and they were both off again. It hurt. It felt good. It had been far too long.


Seasons were a funny thing in the Enchanted Forest. Like time and space, they didn't always follow logical rules in the deepest parts of the never-ending forest. It was one of the reasons Killian vastly preferred the ocean to the interior. Weather on the ocean was more predictable in terms of what you could expect a given month out of the year. He knew he could find frigid, icy squalls to the north, crashing thunderstorms in the east, deadly hurricanes and typhoons to the south and the west, and doldrums at the boundaries. Unfortunately, no such logic dictated the Enchanted Forest.

He and Henry had left the Jolly Roger in what Killian took for late spring—a bit brisk in the morning, but warming quickly to make their trek uncomfortable by midday. They had since passed through one section of forest carpeted in white violets and other blossoms of early spring shortly after lunch. And right as they were ready to make camp, a snow storm started in what moments before had been a balmy summer evening.

"Brilliant," Killian muttered. "Bloody fantastic. We'll be making a quick camp tonight, lad. We need shelter, and fast. I've no idea how long this snow squall will last, but we best be prepared for a cold night."

The most sheltered spot they found was under the lowest branches of a giant pine. The long boughs trailed down over a hollow that some beast had excavated, possibly for the same purpose he and the lad would use it for. Killian was a little worried about starting a fire, however. He knew pine pitch was flammable; it was what made his own deck and hull into a potential tinderbox if there was so much as a renegade spark. But he was more worried about them freezing to death, so a fire was required. Killian didn't know the forest well enough to say with confidence that the storm would pass quickly and summer weather would be upon them again. So he and Henry scavenged dry wood from their shelter and pulled out the flint from the knapsack.

"Put on that extra shirt while you have that open," Killian instructed as he used the flint and his hook to strike a spark and coaxed the dry pine into as large a flame as he dared, which unfortunately was not high. He comforted himself that there was already plenty of snow they could use to dowse the flames if they got too big.

He parted the branches to create a chimney that was hopefully large enough to keep the needles and twigs away from floating embers, but small enough not to let too much snow or wind into their shelter. Henry pulled on the extra shirt and placed the pack over his stomach to help hold in heat. Killian pulled out one of his own spare shirts from his satchel. He had to take off both his leather coat and his vest in order to put in on, which he did as quickly as possible, then replaced them with all speed, buttoning each up as to his neck. He and Henry huddled together with their backs against the trunk of the pine and nibbled on cheese and apples pulled from the knapsack.

"Any idea how we contact the Blue Fairy, lad?"

"In the stories I've heard, you have to find the Blue Star and make a wish, then she'll come to you," Henry said.

Killian frowned. "No chance of finding a clearing in this storm. We'll have to try again tomorrow night, it seems."

Henry pursed his lips together and hummed in thought. "I wonder…What if I tried just wishing really hard right now?"

"No clue, mate," he admitted. "I try to avoid magic of all ilks. I've seen the damage it causes up close. I prefer not to get entangled with it personally if I can help it."

"You've seen the damage that dark magic can cause," Henry corrected him with a knowing smile. "Good magic doesn't harm people. Good magic comes from love, and love cannot hurt people. I think it's a rule."

Killian found himself again smiling at the boy's naiveté and optimism. It seemed almost ridiculous that this boy had managed to escape the Queen in the first place—however it was he had done so; likely with the help of the Black Knight who had told him of the cursed princess. And then he had found Killian, a pirate who had spent centuries fighting boys not much older than he, and who had no reason to believe the lad or want to help him, and yet somehow Henry had been gifted with the ability to win others to his cause. Perhaps there was some magic in the boy that Killian didn't understand. If there was, it must be this good magic Henry spoke of.

"Go ahead and try then, lad. It can't hurt."

Henry smiled wider, then took a breath and closed his eyes, his face scrunching in the effort to wish as hard and as loudly as he could.

With nothing better to do, Killian closed his own eyes. He didn't bother to wish. Even if the Blue Fairy could hear, he doubted she would come to aide his plight. His purpose was much darker than Henry's, and Killian was certain that a creature of good magic such as Henry had described would not aid a pirate seeking revenge, even if it was justified. Instead, he quieted himself, as much as he could here in what seemed like a truly foreign environment. It was easier for him to find peace on the water with open air on all sides of him, the endless blue-green-grey of the ocean reflecting the sky, each with their ever-changing moods, watching the flickers sunlight off of the ripples of waves. If he concentrated, he could feel a warm southerly wind on his face and the smell of salt and warm wood on a hot day.

He remembered the first time he saw a ship, days before his father had abandoned him, years before he had lost his brother and his faith in royalty. But even the reminder of his father's desertion could not quash the memory of his excitement and awe at stepping onto the Mary's Bonnet, feeling the way it rocked slightly with the waves in the harbor, the bustle of the crew, and the way the mast and furled sails had seemed to be straining for release into the open ocean. He remembered graduating from the naval academy, top of his class, one of the youngest men to achieve the rank of lieutenant. And then his brother, who had graduated only a few years before and was already out making a name for himself, had requested him, Killian, to join him on a special mission for their king. It had felt like the beginning of a great quest, just as it felt now, beside the boy. It had all ended terribly, of course, but for a brief few weeks, as they had made preparations, and as Killian had inspected the men chosen to accompany them, he had been full of righteousness and joy and courage and hope.

Once upon a time, he had been a man who would have been worthy of the Blue Fairy's help.

"Look!"

Henry's shout startled him out of his waking dream, and Killian's eyes popped open to see what the boy had spotted.

"The storm is gone," Henry pointed out. "The sky is clear. We can try to find the Blue Star!"

Henry quickly scrambled out of their little den, leaving Killian to stare at the patches of star-flecked sky he could see through the weeping branches of the pine. He used his hook to pull back the snowy twigs around the chimney he'd made for the fire and saw that Henry was right. The sky was clear, and a warm breeze brought the smell of flowers and fresh soil into the space around the evergreens.

"Well, I'll be damned," he murmured.

Likely, it was a fluke of the Enchanted Forest, a sudden fluctuation of magic banishing winter just as it had earlier shifted from summertime in an instant. But Killian had already admitted that he didn't understand magic or how it worked. Perhaps there was some good magic bent on helping the boy. A part of him hoped so. Another part of him actually believed it.

Killian dampened the fire to embers before he followed the boy out. He didn't want their shelter catching on fire, but it still was still too cold to do without one entirely. Once the fire was banked, Killian crawled out after Henry and found him not far away, staring up through a window created by the treetops surrounding a small clearing, just big enough for a few little ferns and shrubs to grow around the perimeter. He had heard of fairy rings, but he had never seen one before.

Henry craned his neck, looking up and all around the visible sky.

"Do you see the Blue Star?" he asked.

Killian tilted his head back and searched, but he didn't know exactly what he was looking for. He had studied the stars at the academy. Even as a boy, he had been fascinated by them. As a navigator, he was exceptional, if he did say so himself. But, from the stories he knew, the Blue Star wasn't really a star, certainly not one you could find your way by, so he had never bothered to learn much about it. That decision had been made for practical reasons at the time—why bother studying a star you couldn't navigate by?—but now he wished he had taken the time to learn at least a bit. What did it look like? How bright was it? About which area of the sky could it be found?

There were several stars that might be right. There was a blue one a little way to west, but it wasn't very bright. Shouldn't a fairy's star be bright? There were one or two bright stars almost directly overhead, but one was a pure white and the other had an almost lavender cast to it.

"I'm not sure, lad."

"It must be here somewhere!" Henry insisted.

Once again, he scrunched his eyes shut and appeared to be wishing with all his might, but Killian had no idea if it would work without knowing exactly which star was the Blue Fairy's. Bloody hell, he didn't know how this worked! So, in an effort to be helpful, he cast his gaze back to the sky and searched. His eyes settled again on the bright, purplish star. It wasn't blue, but perhaps it was close enough. He desperately hoped so, if only so that Henry was not disappointed.

A soft humming caught his attention from behind them. Killian had his hand on his hilt, his sword half drawn, before he turned to see what made the sound.

"Oh, dear," a soft, feminine voice murmured anxiously. "Oh, this hasn't happened in ages."

It took him a moment to find the owner of the voice. He had been searching for someone human sized, but a faint glow of the same periwinkle light that shone from the star overhead illuminated the figure of a tiny woman in a wide dress with trailing streamers of fabric. And wings, of course. Mustn't forget the wings.

This was the first time Killian had ever seen a fairy—a true fairy. Tinkerbell didn't count, what with the disgrace and banishment. No wings.

She was pretty in a piquant, gamine sort of way. Once she was close enough that he could see details through the glow around her, she wore a pink dress, heavily festooned with rosettes and sparkle. She wore a diamond necklace in a Y-shape around her neck. Her dark hair was piled atop her head in bun with curled tendrils framing her face. From the back of her head, little crystalline aerials emerged to catch her light and scatter it about her face. Her wings, like a dragonfly's, Killian thought, fluttered far more slowly than he expected.

The fairy wrung her hands as she approached. Her wide mouth was pinched and her eyes troubled. Killian felt his own anxiety begin to climb.

Henry, however, didn't seem to notice anything was wrong at first. He rushed forward to meet her, his ever-present upon his face. He stopped almost directly beneath her, looking up, and almost breathlessly asked, "Are you the Blue Fairy?"

The whine of her wings rose a pitch as she shook her head.

"I'm sorry," the fairy apologized. "I'm not. I wish I was, but I'm just not. She's not well, and doesn't leave the Meadow at all anymore."

"What?" Henry asked. "What happened? I didn't think fairies got sick."

"She's not sick, exactly," she explained. "She was injured, and it affected her magic. When Queen Snow White and King James's forces rallied at the castle against the Evil Queen, the Blue Fairy went to Rumpelstiltskin's cell to guard him. When he broke out, she was injured. Even now, she's very weak. We all hope that one day she'll fully recover, because fairies live so long, you see? But so far…"

"If you're not the Blue Fairy, lass, who are you?" Killian asked. "And why did you answer our call?"

"I'm Nova," she said with a dip in her hovering reminiscent of a curtsy. "It was my star you were wishing on. That one there." She pointed to the bright start that Killian had set his sights on, wrongly apparently. "I'm sort of the Blue Fairy's secretary, and I take her calls while she's…recovering." She shook her head, making the crystal tantalizers bobble. "No one has tried to contact her in years. Most people know already that they won't get the help they need. I'm so sorry. "

"But…you're a fairy," Henry pointed out, rather redundantly. "Can't you help us?"

A sad smile flashed on her pretty face. "To be honest? Probably not. I'm not much of a fairy, as these things go. Ever since the Evil Queen defeated Snow White, and the Dark One escaped, evil magic has ruled the land. The mining of the fairy dust has slowed to almost nothing, and without the dust, fairies are almost powerless to affect anything outside of ourselves. And what's available isn't enough to do anyone much good."

Henry's disappointment was obvious. His shoulders slumped and the look on his face was enough to make even a hardened heart break. Killian, bracing himself for more defeat as well, turned back to the fairy.

"Do you know anything about this cursed princess we're trying to find?" he asked.

"She's the daughter of Snow White," Henry added, a note of desperation in his voice. "She was cursed, transformed, and she's gone into hiding."

Nova pursed her lips in thought.

Killian held up his arms in something like supplication, a charming smile on his face. A fairy was still female, after all. He could even occasionally charm Tink. Perhaps Nova would be as accommodating. "Any help at all would be a boon."

"I know who you're talking about," she admitted. "But I'm afraid I have no idea where to find her. Transformative spells are definitely the Blue Fairy's realm of expertise. I'm more in the redemption and last resort business."

She focused her gaze on Killian and smiled a sweet, shy little grin. "It's why I could hear you when you wished on my star."

"Because we're in need of a last resort?" he joked, his shoulders tightening at the other option.

"No, silly," she chuckled. "I can see into your heart. I know the man you started as is still in there, buried. I might not be very powerful, but I can see that this quest is important to you. This is a turning point, and you're going to have to make some hard choices."

"You've the wrong man, I'm afraid," Killian said. "I don't particularly feel the need to be redeemed. I know my path. This quest is a deviation to achieve my own ends, nothing more. As soon as it's complete, I'll be on my way."

"So you say," the fairy replied. Her smile was knowing, almost sly, but not at all malicious. It was a far more intelligent expression than he would have given her credit for, with her bubbly laugh, her high-pitched voice, and her constant apologizing.

"Anyway," Nova continued, once again speaking to both of them. "All I know about the Princess is that she escaped the Evil Queen, and flew away beyond her reach. The Blue Fairy would be able to tell you where she is. Or the Dark One," she added, sputtering a laugh. "He knows everything, or seems to. But I just don't have that kind of power, I'm afraid."

She took a deep breath, sadness overtaking her.

"To be honest, I'm struggling to keep the fairies going, especially with both the Dark One and the Evil Queen having it out for us." She shuddered and wrapped her arms around her middle. "They both kill any fairy they see on sight, if we're lucky. Thistle and Merriweather are missing… People are starting to lose their belief in fairies, which means that our power would dwindle even if we did have enough fairy dust. We're creatures of magic. If mortals stop believing in us…"

"Then that's all the more reason we have to find the Princess," Henry said, his determination returning. "Only she can fix things."

Nova smiled at the boy. "Looks like there's a prospect for last resorts, after all. I'll tell you what: fairies have entered battles before, and if there is any chance that we can help restore belief and happy endings to Enchanted Forest, I know my sisters will help." She flittered closer to him. "If you two can find the Princess, wish upon my star again, and I'll come and bring whatever aide I can. You have my word."

The boy smiled back, though it was more subdued than before.

"We will," Henry promised.

"Best of luck," Nova wished. Then, with another meaningful smile at Killian, added, "To both of you."

They watched the fairy fly back up through the break in the treetops toward her star. If Henry's face was any indication, he was feeling the same disappointment as Killian. It had sounded so straightforward on the ship: find the Blue Fairy, she would tell them where the Princess was, and possibly transport them to her, conveniently providing them with some way to break the curse (slay a dragon, dump a potion on her, spin around three times on one foot singing a sea chanty, something,) then the Princess would triumph over the Evil Queen then somehow find a way to defeat the Crocodile, and Killian would return to his ship and a life of piracy, lighthearted and fancy free. He should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

"Well," Henry sighed, his hands on hips, "this quest just got more complicated, but at least we have a new lead."

"A new lead?" Killian questioned. "The fairy just told us we're on our own, mate."

"But she gave us a hint on who can help us," Henry said, starting to smile again.

In another moment, the coin dropped, and Killian shook his head. He took a step back, away from Henry, as if distance from the boy would create distance from the thought. Tension crawled up his spine and gripped his jaws tight. When he spoke, it sounded more like a growl though his teeth.

"No. Absolutely not. We are not going to see the bloody Dark One for help."

"We don't have another choice," the boy pointed out. "We can't just wander around the forest hoping we'll run across the Princess, you said so yourself. The Dark One will know where to find her. And, since one," Henry said, holding up one finger, "curses are kind of his specialty, and two, the Dark One hates the Evil Queen, he will probably be willing and able to help us."

He can think of a dozen reasons why this is a bad idea. He settles on the most immediate one. "Lad, the Dark One and I have…a bit of a history. A rather unpleasant one. My going anywhere near him will end badly."

He doesn't have the power to combat the Crocodile's magic. That was why he had gone to Neverland in the first place. Stupid of him to leave the Dreamshade poison aboard the Jolly Roger. Had he thought for a moment he would need it, he would have stashed the tiny vial of concentrated toxin into his satchel along with the rest, but he thought he would have time. He wasn't that selfish. Free the Princess, allow her to defeat her own foe, and then they could take on his. Now the boy was proposing they skip straight to the end of his plan, and he wasn't prepared.

Henry, of course, just shrugged. "So I'll do the talking. You can hang back. Now come on. It's late. We should get some sleep so we can start out early tomorrow. I'm not sure where the Dark One's castle is, but we can ask for directions. I'm sure someone will know."

Killian stood rooted while Henry walked back to their shelter, the snow already melting on the ground. His stomach rolled with tension, and the muscles in his neck and shoulders bunched into knots. And this was just at the prospect of seeing Milah's killer again. He dug out his flask, hand shaking with nerves and tightly suppressed rage, the stump of his arm itching and burning beneath the brace as it hadn't in scores of years. He pulled the cork with his teeth and downed a quarter of the contents in one burning swallow.

The trouble was, he truly could not think of a better plan. As he had told Henry when they started out that morning—and as the lad had reminded him a moment ago—they couldn't just wander around and hope that the innate magic of the Enchanted Forest would drop them where they needed to go. Magic was a fickle thing. It's rules were few, but strict, and so long as it did not directly interfere with life and death, love, or an infinitive recursive loop of wishes, magic did as it damn well pleased. While it appeared to favor them at the moment, they could not count on it continuing to do so.

Which meant that they were off to see the Dark One on the morrow.

Huzzah.


Author's Note: So, to review, the Rules of Magic as explained by the Genie are:

1) Magic can't—at least directly—kill somebody. (Ripping out someone's heart, magically squeezing someone's windpipe, turning someone into something squashable, or knocking them into something hazardous are not, apparently, in that category since it is the result of the magic that causes death, not the magic itself. I.e., you can't wish for someone to die and that person just suddenly keels over. But you can wish for your enemy to be cast beneath the ice of a frozen lake. They'll drown or die of hypothermia, but it was not the magic that caused the death.)

2) Magic can't make someone fall in love. (Lust and infatuation seem to be exempt.)

3) You can't wish for infinite wishes.

And, as always with OUaT, the warning label at the end, "All Magic Comes With A Price."

Also, please note that this was written before season 5 begins, so any updates on Camelot are not part of this story. Sorry.