Chapter Thirteen
Carpe Diem
"He's coming for me. He's coming for everyone who has magic I'm sure- not just light magic!" Regina went over everything with Robin at his band's campsite, where he was picking up after the storm.
"So, Zelena?
"And Maleficent. Robin, we've got to warn them! - But, I don't want them to see me like this…" She frustratedly tugged at the shiny magical shackles. She couldn't have people thinking she was powerless.
"I don't mind you like this, Robin teased. At least I can… he moved in to nuzzle her neck and whisper in her ear. He led her off to his tent, the very place where they had first been intimate, because no amount of doom and gloom could dampen their desire for each other.
When Robin looked at her that way- everything else could wait.
After Grumpy dropped her off at the marina full of houseboats, Guin gathered the knights to conference. Their king had run away, the royal reliquary had been stolen, and the Dark One seemed poised to strike down anyone with light magic who could protect them.
"Merlin, the great sorcerer who we were told could help mend our kingdom- and all kingdoms- he is dead," she announced. "But there is more. More is being kept from us. Princess Snow White has said that Merlin's magic was tied to the sword, Excalibur. There may be a way…" she caught each man's gaze, to ignite his courage and ingenuity.
Young Tristan spoke up. "Merlin's magic… we thought it could get us back home! Can his magic still do that, even if he can't?"
"There are memories that Snow White has, that we know nothing about!" Galahad said.
"We've been left out long enough by the so- called leaders of this land! Said Gawain.
We wouldn't know what's going on, if you hadn't insisted, your majesty," added Bors. If you must insist again… insist that we see the hoops of memories of all the questers!"
She agreed to work together with Snow white and Regina. The queen held her head high as she began a shivery walk to Storybrooke, followed by a small guard. She left the knights to hide their families and shore up defenses for any attack on East Storybrooke. "Should Arthur come crawling back, she said as a parting comment, "Tell him he's in the doghouse for a long time."
Gawain scoffed, "Your majesty- he prefers the company of men."
Guin whirled around to look sharply at all the knights of the round table, who nodded and shrugged, then dispersed- they were giving her space to deal with her embarrassment. She felt the ground drop out from under her, and her stomach turn over. Everyone knew - what she should have seen years ago- and only now they felt free to tell her! She came to the wide-eyed realization that Arthur didn't love her, even remotely. He had kept her by his side to cover up his own proclivities- how long had it been this way? He hadn't loved her. He wouldn't love her; he wouldn't be making anything up to her. He couldn't love her! That was what hurt the most. There was nothing that could ever make things right between them, and no reason for him to beg her forgiveness so they could begin again- if he just couldn't really love her!
As night descended, Rumpelstiltskin sat in his shop, drinking to the inevitable end- yet again. To his horror, he heard the little chime at the locked front door. Belle had come back just in time for his enemy's endgame!
"Rumpel! I was forty miles to New York and-"
"Belle! You're back? What happened, what do you need?"
"I don't want to have this adventure without you! I realized I could drive the whole country and still, what I want is right here!" she shed her coat on the way in and threw her arms around his neck. She covered him with kisses. "Rumpel, you were letting me go off and- it's the most selfless thing you've ever done, in your new life!"
He wanted to firmly push her away and out of danger, but it was so easy to meld into this long awaited embrace. He thought of having her pack for him and go on ahead, as though he would catch up to her road trip later- but thoughts gave way to passions and he couldn't help but kiss back. They hurried to the cot in the back room, burning for the kind of touch that they had just a taste of, the other week. All Rumpelstiltskin could manage was a question, a question that ought need no explanation or disclaimers. "You're sure you want me- and all that comes with-?"
She was sure.
Couples and families all over town clung to each other as the word spread that the Dark One was back and more powerful than ever. But Zelena, the wicked witch, was alone in the basement asylum of the hospital, with nothing but her growing belly to mark the passage of days. She read a storybook to her unborn child and sipped vegetable soup for yet another dinner. She thought she heard boots in the hallway outside her padded door- uncharacteristic of the nurse or the others imprisoned here. She thought she heard a low snicker outside, but dismissed it- Until pain wracked her body and made her hyper aware, paranoid. Something was wrong- she spit out her soup. Her belly was expanding before her, and she felt the kicks of her little munchkin, stronger than ever before!
The nurse opened the door for a visitor just as Zelena knocked over her dinner tray and screamed, "What's happening!?"
Robin Hood's jaw dropped. "You're only four months pregnant - you can't be-"
Zelena panted with labor pains and held her belly that suddenly protruded 5-inches. "Get me to a doctor, you dolt!"
Robin got her a wheelchair and they rushed to the elevator. "Breathe- remember to breathe!" he said, panicking.
"Yeah, I was a fake midwife, I know the drill!" she shouted.
Robin felt as helpless as when Roland had been born.
Regina responded quickly to his text, showing up at the hospital with an unseasonably warm gray coat and matching muff, to hide her shackles.
"It's happening so fast!"
"We're going to be parents together, all over again, Regina!"
"Let's just deal with the magic that's causing this, and take one thing at a time," she said, with a long exhale. She was concerned, seeing her sister in pain, as much as they hated each other. She was concerned about what lengths Zelena would go to, to keep her own baby- and to be a wicked influence in the young life.
"After being a single father-and you being a single mother for so long- it will be amazing to raise this child together." He hugged Regina from the side, who absent- mindedly stroked his light brown hair that was touched with gray.
Before they knew it, Dr. Whale proclaimed, "It's a girl!"
As she and Robin witnessed the miracle of birth, Regina was happy for the father-but still her mind thought of the worst. "There are a variety of spells that actually utilize baby parts- I can't imagine what the Dark One is planning!" she muttered to herself.
"Don't let the Dark One take my baby!" Zelena cried.
"We'll protect her," Regina resolved. "No matter what, Robin will be a better parent than you…"
"How? I have magic-" Zelena exasperatedly pulled on her leather cuff that stopped it- "and I have captured and controlled a Dark One before! Not you!"
Robin reached for the red, wailing newborn that clutched Zelena's chest. He put an arm around his baby girl gently, as Zelena held her and wouldn't let go. He wondered how Regina would protect them, without her powers. Would it be better for the babe, if Zelena had her powers back, at this point?
Throughout the night the three of them took turns holding the baby and sleeping - Robin and Regina on the couch in the maternity ward. The new mother was too exhausted to fight the father over the custody arrangement, right now. She had tricked him in order to get a child, and she could trick him again, somehow, to get full custody.
Henry started his day early; he had serious homework to do. Snow White had given him the news that his mother was really gone and- perhaps had never been here. He and Roland had spent the night with the Charmings, staying up late to theorize what all the sword Excalibur could do- in the form of stories, for the younger boy's sake. This morning, there was nothing Henry could do with his feelings but focus on how to foil the Dark One's plans. He threw some brain food in his backpack and headed to the library, with his grandmother Snow graciously following his lead.
Belle met them there to help research the phenomena of yesterday, which her husband had so vividly described- the summoning of Nimue, and the melding of the Dark One dagger and the spiritual sword that had held onto Merlin's magic. No one knew how close she had come to putting all this chaos behind her- no one knew why now, she felt more connected and committed to this place than ever.
Henry started making a database on his laptop for all the connections between Arthurian characters in primary source documents, with his grandmothers' help. "This could be really useful, if we survive this Dark One," he said grimly.
Snow White was practically tearing out her short black boy-cut hair, as she thought about the husband and baby she was neglecting. From time to time she would get up to pace the aisles and say under her breath, "If these are really our last days, I don't want to spend them with my nose in a book."
Guinevere had approached her last night and asked to be in on the events of their missed weeks. It hadn't been fair, when Snow had seen all Camelot's memories through their eyes and the people had only later, gradually gotten their dream catchers. Snow had gladly shared all the notes from watching the experiences of questers, as well as plenty of clothes for the current culture and climate - plenty no longer fit Snow after she'd had her baby.
She had invited Guinevere to come help them research the key to the joined Excalibur- Nimue. Even with the volumes that had come with the Curses of Storybrooke, and that had been appropriated from the Sorcerer's private library to this one, it was nearly a hopeless search- every story misrepresented people somewhat, every story omitted.
Guinevere and Belle found they had a lot in common. They both had married strong, overbearing men, who were obsessed with magic spells and the Dark One dagger. They had both been desperate enough to seek out the Dark One vault, which was not the sort of adventure that either had been hoping for when they tried to save their men. When there, Belle had managed to bring her beloved back from death, with Neal's help—when there, at the Source, Guinevere had failed to relieve her husband from his obsession with the dagger. Both had resorted to using the same artifact, the enchanted gauntlet of truth, to find the thing that their husbands loved most: the Dark One dagger. This was the sad reality that made them rather ambivalent, insular, slow to trust others, but quick to find hope in stories and independent research. Though royalty, they had not gotten much of a chance to rule- instead, they found themselves running from crisis to crisis, trying to be brave heroines for their people.
Now they searched for some clue connecting Nimue and Merlin, and the origins of the Dark One. Emma Swan, the last Dark One, had intended to rid the Darkness from herself and all the realms, at last, but their memories of that endeavor in Camelot were disjointed. Had every one failed her, even with their good intentions to support the struggle against darkness? Had they not been enough help in Camelot- too slow to realize King Arthur's betrayal, too weak against Arthur and Zelena and their plot to control, rather than relieve, the Dark One? Had Emma given up, collapsed under the burden of being both the Dark One and her people's Savior? Had she really killed herself, as Hook said-or had he killed her? And why- what did that say about love?
Belle was in love with a Dark One, and had been close to him for many years, but never dreamed of taking his power. Now Belle revealed to her fellow confused Camelot survivors that there were Dark One books, too esoteric and fragile to approach except in desperate times. They were history, theory and instruction, and they had been locked in a closet of the library, not relevant enough to bring up to others until now. Belle had not wanted to reveal these volumes, to protect Rumpelstiltskin, as well. But that was before.
The Dark One tomes were dense and confusing, and Guinevere and the knights that joined them frequently needed Belle s help translating or following a passage.
"Nimue is the key," Guinevere said, "just like young prince Henry heard in his vision of Merlin. The name is here, several times..."
Belle cross-referenced the two volumes she and the Queen of Camelot were reading. What made the Dark One so dark... it was here, implied. It was murder- a long ago murder that began the tradition. Not just a murder but also an accompanying death of one's former self. Had Nimue been murdered? Was he or she the first sacrifice to the darkness?
Guinevere was wondering if Arthur had decoded this mystery. Had he been able to find Nimue - and had it been such a disaster that he had to remove everyone's memories, even his own? Or had Arthur been playing them all along- had he in fact retained his memories of what happened in Camelot after the arrival of the modern day heroes?
These modern day heroes had made the situation with the Dark One worse when they lied, when they'd entered Camelot. They had lied about their identities, saying that they were there trying to destroy the Dark One- when in fact the Dark One was a woman among them. Somehow the famed dagger had traded hands since then. To everyone's horror, they were not dealing with the Dark One who had also had light magic- the Dark One who was also the savior of this world- the Dark One who had her immense potential for darkness already cast out of her- instead they were now dealing with the Dark One who was a bloodthirsty pirate, and had been cunningly preserving his life for hundreds of years already. His cunning preceded his dark magic.
As the tired Queen mulled over these thoughts, Belle tried to explain that this man had attacked her before. Almost killed her before. But she was saved by magic-and that was back when he was just a man! They would need not only knowledge but also light magic to defeat him now.
Guinevere's knights talked to each other in hushed tones in the library.
Sir Bronwyn tenderly asked, "Lady Belle, what was it that had defeated the Dark One that you knew so well? Rumpelstiltskin- what had made him into a mere man again?
"Well," she said, "the wand of the sorcerer Merlin- a very powerful one he had left behind. And, the darkness was purged from Rumpelstiltskin only at a time of extreme desperation, because he was weakened. Do we really have time to wait for Killian Jones to be weakened by his own long career, centuries of misdeeds? Do we have time to wait for his heart to blacken beyond recognition?"
The knights shook their heads, and exchanged looks full of dread. The Dark One was planning something and everyone in town could feel it. Wind rushed quickly down the streets and alleys, whipping flags about. Everywhere the air seemed tense. The atmosphere had an electric charge to it.
As Guinevere opened a window to get some air, she remembered the hopeful orphan boy who had playfully showed her around Camelot when her family first moved there. She remembered running through the forest with him and having to guess which old tree was the magical tree that whispered to him and gave him visions. She hadn't been able to guess it was the majestic tan willow at the edge of town and the woods. He would put his hand on the trunk gingerly and close his eyes, his palm resting careful on the bark the way he would later touch books and artifacts. As though trying to absorb knowledge from magical books and treasures, with respect and awe.
Guinevere had to get out of the stuffy library then, before she became overwhelmed by nostalgia. She stepped outside to look around- the air was strangely brisk for early afternoon and the sky was green, ominous. She remembered an ominous feeling many an afternoon when walking with Arthur, going between the same houses to beg for his meals, and often dodging into alleys and shadows with him to avoid the pushy older kids. They would bully him just because he had no family, and they could. Guinevere had felt so threatened, so out of place... over the years she had bought into his paranoia and moves for power. She had been proud of him when he was chosen to work for a young squire and learn defensive arts... and all along, he told her the most wonderful stories. About them as King and Queen. About the Sorcerer in the tree, and his owl familiar, Archimedes, that seemed to watch over them.
A few times Archimedes had led them towards the woods, or to the coast, where they would peer through Camelot's dense fog at twilight, glimpsing the bright wisps and fairies that bobbed about mysteriously. They grew into teenagers who did almost everything together-but she alone had spied Lancelot through the fog one night, when he was also out looking for fairies. They had shared a smile that Arthur never noticed, and it left Lancelot and Guinevere wondering, for the rest of their lives, whether it was love at first sight that they felt.
Where was Lancelot now? Why had he made an appearance in Camelot after the arrival of Snow White and her friends, proving that he was still alive and well, and yet not come with everyone to this new world of Storybrooke?
Perhaps he was hiding in the woods where the Curse had first deposited the knights and their families.
Guinevere rubbed her eyes, so disillusioned now, no longer blinded by loyalty to Arthur. She could really use a friend like Lancelot now.
"I'm here for you," Will said.
Maleficent accepted a hug from her new friend, Will Scarlet. She had just gotten the news from Regina that the Dark One was jealous for magical dominance, and likely would be coming for her. Maleficent had the capacity for light magic, according to her old friend Regina, who had always built her up. Unfortunately, that capacity could prompt Captain Hook to try to snuff her out, along with all the light in this world.
"Thank you, Will," she said. "It's a lot to… take in, and I don't know what to do." She ought to be planning a preemptive attack with Regina, but the younger witch-queen was really busy with a new baby in the family - a niece she was intent on raising. Maleficent felt left out, alone, about ready to give up.
"Aye, but 'ats what friends are for," said the thief and former Knave of Hearts. He took packages out of his backpack as they sat at the municipal park together- chicken wings and charcoal. This was his way of being hospitable to his friend's mother, who had been so hospitable towards him. She provided the fire for the grill, as it was hard to keep things lit this windy day.
"Did you ever find your other friend, Lancelot?" she asked, and downed a dropper full of homemade Belladonna and Absinthe tincture.
"Nah," Will said. "And without his dream catcher, Sir Lancelot wouldn't even remember me… or Lily." As he cooked them lunch, he heard splashes out in the middle of the lake. "Should've brought fishing poles, right?"
"Maybe I can still help you, before the Dark One comes for me," Maleficent said, her tone still thick with self-pity. "We can use up the mushroom… and try to communicate with your friend from Camelot, in case there is some kind of magical boundary that's preventing him from being found."
"Thanks and all," the thin young man said, "but- it wouldn't work if he didn't choose me ahead of time, right? There's someone I… would much rather try to talk with, if you'd give me that chance." His large, tired brown eyes looked off, sorrowfully.
"Say no more," Maleficent said. A tin cup from Will's pack made a handy cauldron for a small spell. Will concentrated on his love, Anastasia, as he had last seen her. The Red Queen of Wonderland, affectionately nicknamed the White Queen in recent years, for her benevolence and generosity- she'd had her hair down, beautiful white bodice on with a sheer sash over her shoulders. Surely she still loved her White King? Surely she would choose to speak with him, even though circumstances kept them apart?
"Anastasia," Will whispered, as he leaned into the steam above the little tin cup cauldron on the park grill. The swirling steam formed the shape of a woman, vaguely- then he recognized her youthful face, her wide-set jaw, her low hairline. She turned toward him, confused.
"Will- are you- really there? Why am I seeing you in a fog?"
"I just missed you," he said, tearing up. "You left me, to be a realm jumper, and -I wanted to go after you! But… my page was ripped out of our story, in a way… I still don't know why, I couldn't go after you—and I've been stuck in the Land Without Magic!"
"Will," Anastasia' s image responded, suspiciously. "You must have gotten a hold of some magic, to reach me like this. I've been in between realms of story, Will! You wouldn't be able to handle all the magic that is required, to live this way!"
"You learned a lot, from ol' White Rabbit, huh?"
"Yes, you wouldn't believe the things I've seen! There are mysteries in this… in between place… mysteries of different lands, which I alone will be able to solve!"
"Would you be able to... put our story back together?" Will asked the tiny image. Maleficent gave him some space, as he covered his mouth to prevent crying. The steam was starting to dissipate.
"I would, if there were a way… for me to have you and this power," Anastasia said measuredly. She seemed to hold something back—in her eyes, Will saw the answer. She must have ripped their pages out of their story, to prevent him from following her into that inhospitable, unimaginable place.
"At least you're being honest," he said. They'd had their love, they'd had respect and power as White King and Queen of Wonderland- but she still had wanted to push the boundaries of her magic… She had wanted more. He couldn't blame her for wanting more- he had wanted more as well, so no matter his standing in life, he snuck around, he stole.
There was nothing left to say, but "I love you."
Meanwhile Killian's mood darkened the choppy waters and the fast moving clouds in the sky. A limping, bloodied ghost of his girlfriend followed him as he paced the deck of the Jolly Roger. Her silent, mournful eyes looked down when he glanced over his shoulder at her. "I have made Excalibur whole," he grumbled. "Not Arthur. Not you. You'd had your chance..."
Emma's ghost acknowledged this. Maybe Merlin had appeared to her in her childhood... to prevent her from joining the sword and the dagger when she later became the Dark One, which altered the balance of power between good and evil, in all the worlds. His sight into the future was surely better than hers or Killian's, magical novices that they were. Had Merlin known that, given a chance, she would kill herself with the blade before she did something evil? Had he known that she would later become part of the Dark One who WOULD join the sword back together, in order to free the Dark Ones of the past? Emma couldn't stop beating herself up over this.
With a wave of the long fated blade, Killian's magic directed the sails and booms, guiding the Jolly Roger to shore. He commanded the ship without crew, just with the strength of will now.
"I will rule... much more than East Storybrooke! I will trade these people of Camelot and the Enchanted Forest for a kingdom of Darkness, and I, the rightful leader! I have earned Excalibur, and I shall decide who lives and who dies!" He transported up to the crow's nest to glare at Storybrooke from above. Not even the ghosts in his head knew his plan. Soon, the mortals who wanted revenge for Emma's death would be out of his way... soon, he would trap the Dark Ones here in Storybrooke, where they would first feel the ecstasy of freedom and new life, only to be punished all the more by Killian, the sacred sword bearer who could end them at any time. He looked forward to an eternity of punishing people who deserved it. Nimue, Rumpelstiltskin, Zoso, the damn talking boar, even Emma. She would pay for what she had done in Camelot, the lies she had encouraged him to tell her family, and most of all what she'd done to him…
Guinevere wrapped her wool pea coat close to her and walked around Gentleman's Lake, hoping an answer would come to her. Snow White had already gone over different scenarios with her- they couldn't trap the dark pirate, like Snow had trapped a previous Dark One with the signature penned by a magic quill- the Captain was not really one for deals or signing his name to things. The heroes couldn't rely on the immobilizing power of squid ink, a substance they had long been out of. They couldn't lure him back to sanity with people he cared about, because his family and his girlfriend were dead.
As she pondered, Guin felt like she was being watched. She looked around- something was moving in the lake. Besides her reflection in the lake- she thought she saw a large, dark shape sliding swiftly below! Then it was gone, the rocky bottom was peaceful.
"Guin!" said a warm, strong voice behind her.
Turning, she couldn't believe her eyes or ears. Her lifelong friend Lancelot, tall, black, muscled, calm- and wet- Lancelot was coming up the path, in a clinging red tunic and chain mail shirt. He was barefoot and draped with Milfoil and Lily pads, smiling that serene smile she so missed.
"Lance!" Guinevere ran to hug him. "Where have you been?"
"Laying low-until I saw your familiar face!" He dried off his bare head and face with her kerchief, stretched out his arms and shoulders and took a deep breath. "There's so much… I should tell you. Let's sit down…"
Finding a park bench, Lancelot shook off the weeds and dived right in. "Guinevere-I've missed you. You chose Arthur but I -never moved on from you."
"No, no, I was… tricked," she said, looking down. "I apologize… I never visited you in the dungeon, I never-" He stopped her by gently taking her hands. They both breathed sighs of relief and leaned close, feeling for once like perhaps everything would be alright. Guin felt his forgiveness, his longing, his warmth despite the chill, and almost melted into their kiss…
"There's something you should know. About me." Lancelot interrupted their embrace. "Guin, I am… a shape-shifter. I'm a… monster."
She didn't comprehend- until he turned his left arm to spikes and scales, his left hand to enormous claws, and back again to wide, strong, gentle human hands. Her jaw dropped.
"I may be a monster, but I would never trick you like Arthur did. I had… a thousand chances to trick you, take Arthur's shape so that you would be close to me, thinking I was he. But I never did. I love you... I couldn't do that to you." He bowed his head. "Instead, I've only shifted between my real shape... and this one… and when I know there are people trying to trap or kill me, I shrink, I disappear. I go back to the water, where I'm from… You see, I'm a coward, Guin! I only take this human form, to appear strong and brave."
"You've been a creature-all along? And you've been living in the lake?" Guinevere asked while looking him over again in disbelief.
He nodded. "I must have been brought here by magic. I arrived- in this little lake, so mixed up and confused… I saw there was trouble-weeks ago-a spiritual presence in the lake, on the nights of the full moon. And this presence, it took with it a dragon! I didn't emerge because I was scared, didn't know what to do…"
"Surely you heard or saw Arthur there, defeating the dragon, those terrible nights?"
"Yes. You know I've made myself scarce, around him… " Lancelot spoke to her low, with intensity. "He hates other creatures. He wants to control them."
Guinevere's hands clenched into fists, her anger and confusion roiling her stomach. "So Arthur knows - he knows you're a shape-shifter? Has everyone known- but me- all this time?"
Lancelot smiled to himself. "The knights kept my secret then. Yes, lady Guin. Those who joined me on quests and in battle knew of my abilities. That's why I got nicknamed Siege Perilous and Leviathan… the Round Table had a water monster on its side, ensuring its victories."
"I thought we knew each other!" Guin said, in a small voice.
He drew back; the wind across the lake whipped around them and they shivered in their sadness. "The shape you know is the shape I've been most of my life. I was born to a monster… and I dreamed of escaping my mother somehow."
She shook her head.
He hugged himself against the cold, thinking of the sly succubus that swam about and imitated animals to mate and kill animals, and imitated women from men's fantasies to seduce and drown men that came by- the so-called Lady of the Lake. Lancelot had watched all this, disgusted, and had known that his own father had met this fate- he must have been a hero seeking the healing waters of Lake Nostros, and he had been tricked into giving the siren a child, before she killed him!
"One night I wished upon a twinkling blue star, I wished to become a real human boy who could leave Lake Nostros and my… murdering mother. My wish was granted by the Blue Fairy! She taught me to transform into a boy and slip away, through the woods… I could live like a runaway in Camelot, and the Blue Fairy would protect me, as long as I was selfless, brave, and true… You see, Guinevere, that's how I grew up! Just as the boy you knew!"
He felt powerless in her skeptical stare. He pushed back his tears. "I'm sorry I haven't been brave lately. Even when I heard the voices of old friends at the lake's edge- I stayed hidden."
"Well, you don't have to worry about Arthur, he's run off. He's one less thing to be afraid of…" Guinevere folded her arms and sadly said, "But you haven't been true, either, Lancelot."
He stood, then, and took his original form. Transforming into the water dragon he had been in childhood, he showed her his secret, and hoped that they could then trust each other as they had long ago. He became a dark column of twisting ribbony whiskers, shrunk down to half his size, then unfolded fins and gills and wings all along his slender, smooth scaled body. He glided gracefully up into the air, floating back and forth above the park and higher into the sky. Lancelot grew as scales cascaded out of his folds, growing to the size of a bus and spouting smoke from several points. His large glistening eyes on either side of his head saw an amazed Queen Guinevere below - as well as a smartly dressed lady and a scruffy young man, running up the path. They were waving wildly at him.
Coming back down to earth, Lancelot was greeted with hugs by these strangers, even as he was finishing his transformation into a man.
"Sir Lancelot! Speak of the devil!" The pale young man said. "You don't remember us, but- you and Lily and me, we ran together in Camelot."
"Lily was my daughter," the older woman rushed to explain. "A shape shifter like you! Here, this will help." She reached into her trenchcoat's inner pocket, and handed him a hoop of aspen branch with an intricate design woven in the middle. "Your memories of those forgotten weeks- they're in there!"
Guinevere came over to introduce herself. Maleficent was stunning and intimidating -another shape-shifter! Her friend, Will Scarlet, was a bit shy, worn down, but amiable. He had an assortment of tightly rolled pairs of jeans in his backpack, happily offered to Lancelot so he'd have something dry to wear.
As the four tried to quickly get to know each other, an owl lighted on a nearby pine tree. A beautiful brown barn owl with a ghost white face. "This is quite a day for reunions!" Guinevere said, smiling and squinting up at the age-old animal friend of Merlin's.
"Archimedes!" Lancelot recognized him too! The owl silently flew around them and lighted again- under the gaze of his black, knowing eyes, he and Guinevere felt like things could be whole again.
"If you know him, then, in a way, you knew the Sorcerer," Maleficent said. "Come, I'll show you the home that he made for himself here. Somewhere private… where I can give you your memories back. " She transported them all to the comfort of the wood and stone mansion that the Sorcerer had prepared, with subtle influence on the second Curse of Storybrooke, for his hopes of making it here.
The park was deserted when Killian and his entourage of spirits got there. Killian carried the ancient Excalibur in a long alligator skin sheath strapped to his back, and a new switchblade in his pocket. He was aware of the heroes guarding the hospital, frightened for the wicked witch's newborn. Meanwhile others were questioning the Crocodile, certain that the history of Nimue and Merlin would reveal his current plan. Killian chuckled darkly. They were fools. Fools he used to follow around. They would never guess that he could sick monsters from this lake on them, even at the time of the new moon.
He cut his hand with the switchblade and held his bleeding palm over the clear lake water. It was the time of day when the full moon would be at its zenith - facing the other side of the earth.
He was the Dark One to end all Dark Ones, and he could summon the ferryman from his work around the world, if he wanted to. Dark droplets hit the lake's water; he healed his cut with magic and waited. Nimue told him this would work.
The sky darkened with heavy clouds, as though night was coming here early. Steam rose up from the lake into the cold, suddenly still, air. It thickened to a fog, a fog that was broken by one lantern approaching the shore from the middle of the lake. Killian Jones marveled at the little rowboat heralded by this eerie lantern held high- a rowboat with standing room only for the many robed and hooded Dark Ones!
"Welcome to Storybrooke!" he said, tipping his three-corner hat to them. The ferry from the afterlife could not land; twenty-one shadowy figures jumped into the water and waded to him. Only the first and last, Nimue and Emma Swan, showed their faces. "This is how it works: you get one night and one day!"
No longer just visions, the Dark Ones marched forward as living men, women and beasts, embodied as in their prime. "One night and one day—in the flesh," Nimue said, "unless we claim lives that would be ours!"