Chapter Summary: In which, in order to get a proper beginning to this story, the author needs to rewind, just a bit. Because in order to enjoy the story, the audience needs to have the proper context. Starting with: who the hell is Madam Mim?
Author's note: Madam Mim replaces Will Scarlet as the loveable little troublemaker and Belle's new love interest. She got swept up in Snow White's Curse.
Also, I'm experimenting with different writing styles so for this story, so the Narrator is both omniscient and has a bit of a personality.
At this point the door of the cottage opened suddenly and the witch was revealed standing in the passage. She was a strikingly beautiful woman of about thirty, with coal-black hair so rich that it had the blue-black of the maggot-pies in it, silky bright eyes and a general soft air of butter-wouldn't-melt-in-my-mouth. She was sly.
"How do you do, my dears,"said Madame Mim. "And what can I do for you today?"
-T.H. White, The Sword in the Stone
(You may be asking yourself: how? How could Killian Jones, a man who had been sold into servitude by his own thief father, became a pirate upon betrayal from a king and the death of his brother, and sworn bloody vengeance on the Dark One on the murder of his first love—how could he possibly be the one to pull the Sword from the Stone? These types of prophecies usually call for hero types, the ones with the right bloodline, a legitimate claim to the throne and a pure and noble heart or some other crap, as Emma would likely put it.
To which this author simply responds: you're asking the wrong questions. Goodness knows Killian Jones is right now.
But this particular story won't be as effective unless you know how we got here. Not everything mind you, just to the part where things start to get important. So, let's rewind.)
Once Upon a Time, the man who would be known as the Sorcerer was bound in ropes and on the run, almost dead of thirst and exhaustion until he spotted a silver chalice in the midst of a desert—
(Whoops, too far)
Once upon a time in Camelot, there was a princess who—
(Still too far)
In the Enchanted Forest, a place also called Misthaven, an Evil Queen schemed to enact a Dark Curse—
(You already know all that)
Once upon a mid-morning in Storybrooke, Emma Swan had just traveled through time, almost erased herself from existence by preventing her parents from meeting. However, with the help of a devilishly handsome pirate, she managed to fix the timeline, and even save someone previously slated for execution.
Worry not, dear readers, this Maid Marian is indeed, Maid Marian. Zelena is an interesting character, yes, but one not needed for this story.
We open several days after that little adventure when a very particular purple elephant started stomping its way down Main Street during the blackout...
(There we go, now we can start properly. Because this is the point where the story changes, and Killian Jones, the man who will draw the sword from the stone, crosses paths with a certain Mad Madam)
The first time that Killian Jones met Madam Mim was not under the best of circumstances.
Of course, even before he met her he was slightly irritated by the witch's antics, as the new town trouble maker had decided that the middle of a blackout to cause all manner of mischief. Specifically, turning into a purple pachyderm and trumpeted her way down main street, scaring the daylights out of most everyone in an already stressful situation.
Emma and David had pursued her (another excuse given to avoid him) but the shape-shifter was slippery little blighter and got away.
All that he could deal with-just another day in Storybrooke after all-if she hadn't crashed his and Emma's date. Literally. Bumbling into a waiter and spilling wine all over Emma's lovely pink dress. She'd apologized and tried to help clean it up of course, but Killian-Killian's left hand grabbed her by her shirt collar and demanded that Mim do better than apologize.
(Yikes, never underestimate the placebo effect)
His lady love had asked him to take a down a notch, and Killian let her go. The witch slithering off, and Emma decided to show a bit of mercy by prioritizing their evening over the purple-haired troublemaker. Again, Killian would have been willing to let it go.
That is, until the pirate caught her in the middle of an already stressful night trying to break into the library. What the bloody hell she was doing at a library he had no idea. But based on the lilt to her stance and the half-empty whiskey bottle in her hand, she likely thought it was someplace else.
"You're drunk lass, go home."
"Don't call me lass." the witch slurred, her arm growing purple scales and black claws as she obviously intended to break the front window. He grabbed her wrist and she hit him, but he hit back-left hand making firm contact with her eye. The witch tumbled to the ground, more knocked off balance than really hurt.
"Well someone's a bit grumpy, " She commented, looking back up at him with a sneer. There was a flash of purple, an impact to his shins, and Killian was suddenly on the ground as well.
He rose to his knees, and glared daggers at his offending appendage again.
"You tell anyone about this you're dead." The girl didn't agree or disagree, and Killian was just a bit too busy with the prospect of the corrupting influence of his left hand to give the witch much further thought.
That night, they went their separate ways, with Killian trying to work up the nerve to either go back to Gold's shop, or grab a meat cleaver and get rid of the blasted thing himself.
The first time Emma Swan met Madam Mim, the woman had been an elephant all but charging down main street. Just...tooting her trunk like freaking Dumbo or something.
She'd been able to put the identity together rather quickly, The Sword in the Stone had been one of the few Disney movies she'd seen while still an actual kid, and the shape shifting fight Mim had with Merlin had blown tiny Emma's mind. So, upon seeing the purple elephant, she knew exactly who they needed to have a word with.
It was a simple disturbance of the peace, the witch hadn't actually hurt anyone. But between that and the blackout and the mysterious ice monster from earlier, Emma had probably gotten a little overzealous in the whole 'flagging down' thing and straight up chased the elephant. Mim, either afraid of the sheriff/Savior or just being a little shit, ran away.
Things did not get much better from there, as a shape-shifter was an understandably slippery person to try and chase after (even if she was always purple). Then there was the matter of the Ice Wall and the whole Snow Queen business and the point was that Madam Mim's presence was just a colorful thorn in Emma's side.
The morning after her date with Killian, Emma walked into the station to find the witch still asleep in the holding cell. The sheriff noted all the differences between this version and the movie-something of a hobby these days whenever she encountered another formerly fictional character. Where movie Mim was, in her words, 'an ugly old creep', her real-world counterpart looked to be around Emma's age. Beautiful, actually, looking like she walked straight out of a magazine instead of a storybook. Her hair was black with lavender dyed tips, cut into a chin-length bob with soft curls. She was wearing modern clothes too; dark jeans and purple flannel with a simple black t-shirt underneath.
"Good morning sunshine." Emma greeted, casually leaning onto the bars of the cell as the witch stirred awake. "Are you going to tell me why you were trying to break into the library?"
The woman stretched and looked over at Emma. "Well, aren't you gorgeous sight to wake up to." She greeted, tone flirty. Another thing the movie got kind of right: Mim had a British-ish accent, talking a bit like Killian or Robin Hood.
The sheriff just raised an eyebrow.
"If this is about staining your lovely dress last night, I promise I can more than make it up to you." She added, batting her eyelashes.
Oh, Jesus Madam Mim was flirting with her to try and get out of trouble. Emma looked over to her father. "She this friendly with you?"
"Of course not darling, you're much more my type." The witch grinned, but Emma could see something flicker in her eyes-confusion. Probably at suddenly not being able to do magic.
Emma grinned back. "If you're trying to turn into a snake and slither out of there, don't bother. See that thing on your wrist?" She gestures to the leather cuff. "It keeps you from using magic, and you won't be able to take it off on your own."
The purplette held up her wrist to inspect the new piece of jewelry. "And here I thought you just fancied me."
"Okay, knock it off. I don't drop charges just because you bat your eyelashes." She wasn't opposed to being flirted with by another woman, but Emma very much preferred her blue-eyed devilishly handsome pirate.
The witch assessed her for a moment before giving a shrug, and casually leaning against the wall, all seductive body language gone. "Can't blame a girl for trying."
The sheriff rolled her eyes. "Okay Miss-"
"Madam." The purplette corrected.
"Madam...Mim." Emma hesitantly finished because no way was knowing fairy tale characters ever going to stop being a little bit weird. "Your little stunt pulled me away from a very important investigation and interrupted my night off."
Mim rolled her eyes. "To my understanding that's not generally a punishable offense, sheriff. Or do you prefer princess ?" There was something bratty in her tone there, but Emma didn't quite care enough to examine it further.
"No, but getting shit faced and breaking into a library is. You're looking at drunken disorderly and breaking and entering, on top of the original public disturbance, so I recommend you start talking."
"Alright, the last thing I remember is running away from you and celebrating my escape with a nice bottle of whiskey." The witch sighed, and sniffed the air. "Do I smell coffee?"
"Coffee is for people who keep talking. Did you celebrate with your friends, Gawain and the Green Knight?" Emma held up the book. That seemed to actually catch Mim's attention, the shapeshifter sitting up and approaching the cell bars.
"This was in your pocket." Emma held up the ripped out page. It was of the titular Green Knight, armed and armored all in green. A little tacky, if you were to ask her. "Mean anything to you?" She asked. There was a long moment where the witch's attention was squarely on that piece of paper, an unguarded and slightly sad look on her face. Then she looked back up at Emma, and her expression shifted.
"I was plastered, who knows what I was thinking?" Mim tried, giving an insincere smile. Emma didn't need her superpower to detect the lie there.
"Alright, fine, how about who gave you that shiner, do you remember that?"
Another shift in her stance, standing up just a bit straighter. "That is an interesting question."
That was when Killian walked in, and both women's attention turned towards him. The pirate was...adjusting his hook back onto his brace.
Huh.
"Where were you?"
"Sorry, love, I just got your message."
"It's okay, I just need another minute here." She turned back to Madam Mim. "You were about to tell me who did that to your face." Mim's eyes lingered for on the pirate for a moment longer before snapping back to Emma, coy smile back in place.
"No bloody clue, your guess is as good as mine. Must have been quite the party."
Lie.
"Alright, but if you remember anything I'll know where to find you."
"Ever at your service, milady." The last word was dragged out, almost like a slight. Again, weird.
(While the sheriff's back was turned, Mim made eye contact with Killian Jones and stuck out a forked, serpentine tongue at him. The pirate responded by rolling his eyes, and turning his attention to something that was actually important. Emma Swan.)
"Don't I get my one phone call or something?"
"Who do you possibly have to talk to?"
"My father. I want to let him know I'll be late to afternoon tea."
"So is the color natural or do you dye it?"
"Hm?" The witch looked up and Emma realized she'd said it out loud. Even with the Snow Queen still out there it had been a remarkably slow day. Mim looked to be on the same page, twirling her short hair into little padawan-braids for lack of anything else to do.
Might as well roll with it. "Your hair color. Is it naturally purple or did you change it? With like, dye or magic or something."
"Magic. Tried to dye it first, but it looked terrible whenever my roots grew out."
Truth.
"How about you?"
"Hm?"
"Your mother has black hair, and yeah your father's blonde but not that blonde, you give it a little…" she gesticulated to her own hair "...assistance?"
"It's natural." The savior didn't really have the kind of free time to go to a hair salon right now. Or, really, anytime after New York.
Emma tries to return to her paperwork. She manages it for another ten seconds before looking up again. "So is your name actually 'Mim' or is that just a nickname?" The witch tilts her head. "For the paperwork." The sheriff gives by way of explanation. (Lie, she's actually trying and failing to file a drunken disorderly report. Bar fight at the Rabbit Hole, as per usual).
"Madam Mim is merely my alluringly alliterative moniker," the witch smiles, looking unbearably pleased with herself. "Maeve is my actual name."
Truth .
"Alright, you've served your time. Out."
Mim made a show at picking herself up and dusting herself off before holding up the anti-magic cuff. Normally the prince would have hesitated with taking it off a spellcaster they had just imprisoned, but Mim was much more of an annoyance than any real threat.
'Just a third-rate hex' were Regina's exact words.
It's only after she's left that David remembers the phone call she'd placed to her father—and the fact that no one came to ask after her.
Deciding that he had more important things to worry about than Madam Mim's potential family drama, the prince went back to work. After all, Anna was Kristoff's fiance and Kristoff was an old friend, even if David hadn't actually seen the man in over thirty years. Lord, that sentence made him feel old.
(As if his pre-teen grandchild wasn't doing that already).
David had actually met Mim several weeks ago, during the time where there were flying monkeys about and they hadn't yet figured out Zelena's plan.
Missing year or no, he was still technically the sheriff. And that meant responding to public disturbances, such as a bar fight at the Rabbit Hole. Apparently Jack had found the witch in bed with Jill, and responded by trying to break a bottle over Mim's head later that night. The barfight had broken out soon after.
Someone had just thrown a chair through the front window when he arrived. A wooden chair right through a plate glass window.
"Oops," the purple haired woman laughed, obviously not sober, and bleeding from the nose. "Did I do that?"
The combination of his badge and status as prince got most people there to calm down and back off. (Which was good, considering the town only had two holding cells and only so many handcuffs.) Not Mim though. Madam Mim just got mouthy.
"You're not my prince, blondie." She responded, going back to drinking and be flippant with his questions.
"The big, dumb bloke was being an asshole. Not my fault."
David wasn't fooled for a second. "Sure, you didn't do anything at all to provoke him."
Mim just shrugged. "I'm sure you've already gotten an earful, gods know I have from all his whining. Ruined a perfectly good bottle of whiskey, too."
"Whining? You slept with his wife!"
"Yes, because perfectly happy women in wonderful marriages just go around sleeping with other people willy nilly." Another drink. "She was the one looking for a good time, and I was happy to provide one. A shame, he barged in just when she brought in this lovely concoction called 'whipped cream'-"
David learned two things that day: that Madam Mim was an incorrigible little shit, and that it's pretty damn hard to try and handcuff a snake.
(But back to the present…)
Maeve stilled when she saw the familiar broom leaning against the doorway. There was a fine layer of dust on the broom handle, as if it had been sitting out there for awhile.
Her father wouldn't be so absent minded. Grabbing the broom, she quickly scanned the area for any magical disturbances. "Father?" She asked, hoping against hope he was just in his workshop, or out on business for the Sorcerer.
But there was no note, no message, nothing. Maeve bit her lip, trying and failing not to think of the worst case scenario.
"Where the hell are you?" She whispered to herself.
Between trying to find Anna, trying to find the Snow Queen, then trying to find Emma, none of the Storybrooke royals noticed that Madam Mim was looking for someone herself.
Not that Mim would have gone to them if she could help it. The witch had learned a long time ago that you could never depend on royalty.
She was going to find her father herself.
Over 200 years ago...
Once upon a midnight dreary, there was a figure in a heavy black cloak, carrying a baby in a basket. They were at the edge of the Forest of Eternal Night, a place where very few people wished to be, and at a time of year that most definitely didn't wish to be outside.
(That's just a really fancy way of saying that it was winter).
Wasting no time, the figure dropped the babe at the foot of the tree, and with only a moment's hesitation, started walking back the way they came. The midnight storm was picking up, and anyone with the sense they were born with would be staying inside, trying to huddle as close to the fires as possible or wrapped up in thick, heavy blankets.
(Now, who this person was and where this baby came from isn't important right now. What's important is what comes after).
Not too long later, long enough that the figure in the cloak was long gone and the baby in the basket was now crying from cold, hunger, and all around general discomfort, a man appeared.
The Sorcerer's Apprentice, no longer a boy, but not yet the old man with grey hair that was vacuumed up by Sorcerer's Hat, purposely walked towards the crying baby. A mixture of magic and well insulated robes keeping him safe and comfortable amidst the wind and chill.
"Hello there, little one." The Apprentice greeted, kneeling down to get a good look at the child.
The baby responded as babies often do, and just continued crying. The Apprentice frowned, but understood. "So new to this world," he commented, gently picking the girl up, "but it's already been so cruel to you."
While the man was no nursemaid, a few centuries under his belt in service to the Sorcerer giving him little experience with children, his gentle rockings and warm arms soothed the babe well enough, and she started to fall asleep. For the first time since the Apprentice approached, the crying had stopped.
"There we go…" he sighed, smiling at the baby in his arms, and with little more than a thought, the two of them were no longer out in the midnight snow.
Weeks passed, and Killian Jones' situation went from bad to worse to his worst nightmare. He was working, however unwillingly, for the damn Crocodile, and he was going to try and kill Emma. It was too much to ask, really, that the thrice-damned Dark One just enjoy his happy ending,
For once, Killian Jones was actually glad Baelfire was dead, if only so the man wouldn't have to see what his father had become, and was more than willing to do to Henry's mother in pursuit of power. Not the power to protect his love ones, but the kind of power that he could hoard like a dragon with gold. Killian had been such a bloody idiot, thinking he could out-blackmail a master manipulator. Thinking that having his hand back would just fix him, fill in the cracks over two centuries of darkness and revenge and bloodlust had sawed into him.
He had just wanted to be a better man for Emma, and had failed spectacularly.
A part of Killian, a small but no less vocal part, encouraged the pirate to take the dagger and drive it straight into the villain's rotten heart. Avenge Milah, protect Emma, protect Henry, protect all of them, it whispered, and under normal circumstances, Killian would agree. This...group (family) that he'd found meant the world to him, and he would do anything to protect them.
But giving into that darkness wouldn't help anyone. Killian was a man who never did anything by halves, and if he were to let in that darkness back in, who knew how long it would take for him to shake it off again. All becoming the Dark One would accomplish would be alienating the very family he was trying to protect, just like the Crocodile did with Bae all those centuries ago.
(Hindsight was a funny thing, knowing that the Crocodile's furious accusations of Milah leaving and abandoning their son were all the more hollow as the man had recently done that himself.)
So Killian tried to keep a lid on things, trying to find a way to save Emma, stop the Dark One, and do that while still maybe being alive at the end of it, but that last one was really a distant third priority, as nothing would come before saving Emma. (Killian Jones was past trying to goad the Crocodile into killing him, but that didn't mean he valued his own life that highly).
So, yeah, basically his worst nightmare.
The purple witch had stayed mercifully out of sight since being let out of her holding cell. Whenever Killian thought he saw a flash of purple hair or fur or feathers around, there were more important things happening, and it was gone before he could focus on it.
That is, until the spell of Shattered Sight. The entire town was at each other's throats, the purple witch included.
Upon finding him after Killian failed to retrieve Henry, Mim turned into a rhinoceros and attempted to impale him on her horn. Not fun.
Thank god one of the other Storybrooke residents tried to run her over with their car, otherwise he'd really be a goner. She would be fine...probably. The pirate had more pressing matters to attend to, so as usual the purple witch basically stopped existing to Killian once she was out of sight.
Maeve woke up with a dulled pain in her side, and feeling like her head was stuffed with cotton. Everything was white and shiny and she felt like she was happily cocooned up in warm blankets and okay who gave her opium because she'd sworn that off after the Agrabah Incident(™).
(Apparently this realm, people are generally kind enough to have someone drive you to the physicians after you get hit by a car, even if her rhinoceros hide had taken most of the hit)
"How did you heal up so fast?" Victor asked, looking over the patient.
"One of the many benefits of shapeshifting," the witch responded, sitting up with a smile. "Also, all the lovely nurses certainly helped the healing process." She gave a carefree smile, and one of the nurses blushed.
(Suffice it to say that afterward a particularly interesting foray into the supply closet with the witch, Nurse Shepherd was no longer into men).
The first time Belle met Madam Mim, it had been right after one of the worst points in her life. She'd exiled Rumple across the town line two days ago, and was finally venturing out of the house. She was running out of groceries, and had long run out of tissues.
After indulging in a good long cry, Belle was going to put on her big girl pants and help Hook find a way to release the fairies from the Sorcerer's Hat, not to mention that poor old man that Rumple ordered him to capture.
They had started by taking the box, and observing it for any markings, symbols, or other indicators of where it had come from, or where they could at least start on hunting down information for it.
That was when Madam Mim entered the library. Belle turned around at hearing the door. While the door wasn't locked, she hadn't opened the library so the two of them could get some work done in peace.
"Sorry we're closed for today."
Madam Mim made an appeasing gesture, a piece of paper in her right hand. "Just a quick question, it'll only take a...minute…" The shapeshifter's face morphed from amiable to surprised in a heartbeat.
"Where the bloody hell did you get that?" The witch demanded, voice suddenly ice cold, and turning from surprise to suspicion.
The two researchers glanced at each other. The hat was an extremely powerful relic, based on how much effort had put into finding it with Anna and then concealing it for himself.
"That's not important, what is important is how you know what it is." The pirate challenged.
"Oh I think it bloody well is important," she continued, staring them down. "Because I knew the man who previously had it, and I knew that he was supposed to guard it with his life." She held up the piece of paper. It was a sketch of the old man, pretty accurate, with his balding head and full beard. "So if you have it…" she trailed off, eyes hard and giving them a long, assessing look.
Hook's expression didn't change much, but Belle could pick up on the rush of guilt the man must be experiencing. Mim didn't miss it either, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and throwing Killian as if the man was so much a rag doll.
There was a loud 'crash' as he hit the book shelves lining the wall. Books flew and wood cracked on his impact. Not so easily beat, Captain Hook sat up. The witch pounced like a jungle cat, wrestling Hook back down to the ground.
To the ground and she's small. It was like watching a baby lion trying to take down a panther. "What the bloody hell did you do to my father?" She half-growled in his face, keeping him pinned.
But Captain Hook hadn't survived this long just to be taken out by an incensed little witch. The man was trying to grapple, more to get her off of him than really fighting back.
He would probably have succeeded too, had Mim not suddenly transformed into a sizeable purple-pink boa constrictor. Large enough to wrap itself around Hook's torso and starting to squeeze .
"Stop it! You're hurting him!" The librarian tried, but the snake seemed unmoved.
Seeing no other choice, Belle grabbed one of the large reference books, and hit Mim over the head with it. The snake comically dropped to the floor, her grip on the man loosening, and allowing Hook a chance to escape.
"Are you okay?" Belle asked, looking him over for any obvious injuries.
"Bloody fantastic," the man grit out, rubbing at where the snake had him im a death grip only moments before.
Off to the side, Belle noticed a flash of pink-purple smoke, and the snake was once more a woman with black and purple hair.
"I'll call Emma—"
"No." The pirate interrupted. "If her father is who I think he is, then she needs an explanation, not a jail cell." There was a touch of melancholy to his voice, reminding Belle again how Hook blames himself for what happened with the sorcerer's hat.
The librarian grit her teeth, feeling another wave of anger towards Rumple.
Five minutes later, tempers had cooled and the three of them sorted things out like actual adults. By talking to each other.
"Your father...is the Sorcerer's Apprentice?" Belle asked, gently searching the woman's face for the truth of what she said.
"Aye, now, where is he?" She demanded, just a hair politer than she had before. Baby steps, Belle supposed.
So after that particularly awkward discussion, Mim had all but demanded that she help them find a way to release those trapped in the hat. Eager for another pair of eyes (especially ones with some knowledge of both magic and the Sorcerer) they agreed.
"But first-"
"I'll, uh," Mim nudged one of the books with her shoe. "I'll clean this up."
"Can't you possibly use their magic to just...let them out?"
"I highly doubt turning into a gorilla and just shaking the hat until it fairies fall out is a legitimate option, love."
"Wait, what?"
"Yeah, my magic is limited to transformation. Specifically, transforming myself into other creatures. Or parts of them, at least." She demonstrated, her right forearm now covered in purple scales and black talons serving as fingernails. "Never fear though, I'm well versed in potioncraft, ancient languages, and magical theory."
"Any progress, mate?" Killian asked, looking up from his own book.
Mim leaned back in her chair and stretched her arms. For all her goofiness, the witch was a bloody good researcher, especially while extra motivated to release her father.
"Okay so...not gonna lie I'm not entirely sure what this says."
"You said you spoke Elvish."
"I do! The main dialect, the one most things get written down in. This is some sort of regional dialect that I'm really not familiar with. Like," she looked over the ancient tome, "come you all into the deepest cavern-or cellar depends on the usage-and having come may you give your thanks/pants/skin? I don't know something to the 'strong one' or 'beloved one' the one who...okay is either going to kill you or bless you and that's assuming 'kill' isn't a metaphor for sex."
"When is 'death' ever a metaphor for sex?" Belle piped up.
Mim looked up, eyebrows quirked in academic challenge. "The 'little death' is a euphemism used across multiple languages to indicate sex. It basically refers to after you just-"
"If I might get this back on track." Killian interrupted, not particularly interested in having a centuries old witch explain the particulars of bawdy euphemisms. "You said your father kept the relic in a place below the earth before it was taken by the Dark One. Could that be what it was referring to?"
The purplette looked back down at the page. "If it is I really hope my father didn't try to kiss the dark ones into submission."
The pirate just sighed, really not in the mood for the witch's attempts at levity.
"So...you were the Dark One's wife?" Mim asked, as they were closing up the library for the night. The pirate had stalked off in the direction of Granny's, while the two ladies had found that they lived in the same general direction, and could therefore walk together for a bit before reaching their respective homes. (Belle was still debating whether or not she wanted to move out of the place she had shared with Rumple.)
"Yeah," Belle weakly confirmed, not particularly up for this conversation. "At least, I was." Thankfully, the witch seemed to pick up on that, and didn't say anything further.
As goofy Mim could be at times, the witch seemed to be a lot more insightful and clever than she let on. The brunette appreciated that, appreciated that Mim seemed to be the one person she knew right now who didn't look at her with pity, sorrow, or 'i told you so' lurking behind their eyes.
(Belle would come to appreciate a lot of things about Madam Mim)
Ending Note
who-ho! Well, this is certainly a change from last chapter. I've gone from barely scraping three hundred words together to a couple thousand! In all seriousness, I had intended for this to just be a quick little thing establishing how season 4 was different with Mim there instead of Will. However, the more I wrote, the more I kind of liked focusing on how her and Belle's relationship, and things got really...REALLY long, so I decided to split that chapter into two parts. Next chapter is seriously going to focus on the development of Belle and Maeve's relationship,
So, next time, we get to watch our favorite pirate try to wingman for this disaster lesbian!
Don't worry, don't worry we'll get to Camelot in...if not the next chapter than the chapter after that.
As always, if you you have any thoughts/comments/questions/concerns or just in general want to yell your feelings at me, comment below and let me know!
