A/N: Thank you all so much for your wonderful feedback on the last chapter!
This story is an AU (alternate universe) as of the Season 2 premiere; so nothing that has transpired since the premiere is part of our story.
Also, the story that Belle shares with the lost boys in this chapter is one that I heard when I was a child. We hope that you enjoy it! :-)
Disclaimer: We do not own Once Upon a Time. If we did, the episodes would air every evening instead of every week! May credit be given where credit is due.
Chapter XX
Even the sweet, raucous laughter of the Lost Boys could not inspire a smile on Belle's full lips as she sat on the windowsill, her knees tucked to her chest and her turquoise eyes anxiously scanning the horizon. She seemed to be continuously battling a lump in her throat as the blazing sun rose higher and higher, and the sky remained empty of Aibreann's little green aura.
With a shaky sigh she fixed her gaze on the children playing in the clearing below. The boys were kicking a ball of knotted cloth and palm fronds between them, their smiling mouths and grubby fingers still sticky with the fruit they had eaten for lunch. One of the fruits they had picked rested in Belle's palms now; it looked much like an onion, but with soft, vibrant orange flesh. Although its fragrance was sweet and inviting, Belle could not bring herself to eat it, instead absent-mindedly peeling back its plentiful layers as she anxiously searched the treetops once more.
She only just managed contain her cry of relief as a tiny emerald orb soared in the direction of the Drey. After looking about the cabin to ensure she was alone, Belle waved to Aibreann, beckoning for the fairy to fly to the window in which she sat.
Belle's lips twitched into a small smile as her friend alighted on her right knee, her green dressed glittering brilliantly in the afternoon sun.
"I'm so glad you're all right," Belle breathed, the sheer relief of seeing Aibreann unharmed and safely in the Drey almost making her giddy.
Aibreann returned her smile briefly, before reporting solemnly, "Hook has received your letter. His ship sets sail for the southeastern shore now."
Belle nodded, glancing at the deep blue water she could just make out along the horizon. "Thank you," she whispered fervently, her eyes meeting the fairy's. Aibreann stared up at her, a ghost of a smile on her lips, but her brow creased with worry. She moved to sit down on Belle's knee.
"I helped reunite a father and son once, before coming here," Aibreann explained quietly after a moment. Her lips curled into a small smile at the question written in her friend's features.
"It was a long time ago, long before you were born," the fairy answered softly. "A boy, a young spinner's apprentice, was lost and alone in the woods." Her gaze momentarily clouded over with the memory as she folded her legs beneath her. "It would be wrong not to help when presented with the chance to do so again."
The pixie's gaze flickered down to where the Lost Boys still played, and Belle guessed that she, too, was wondering if one of the children might be her true love's long-lost son.
"Are you certain you want to go through with this?" Aibreann suddenly asked, one of her tiny hands clutching the fabric of Belle's dress.
"It's the only way," Belle murmured, her expression calmly determined as she held out a finger for her magical friend to hold. "I must find out what Hook wants, what his plans might be. He wouldn't have agreed to meet me if there was not something he was willing to receive in exchange," she said quietly, hoping the sliver of doubt she felt in her chest did not show in her voice or features.
The carving of Scout and the shrine the other boys had made of his bed suddenly appeared in her thoughts, and in that moment her resolve faltered and she wondered morbidly if tomorrow's sunrise would be her last.
Aibreann squeezed Belle's fingertip before looking once more out the window, the corners of her mouth slightly turned down and her brow furrowed in thought. Belle watched as the emerald fairy slowly nodded to herself and rose to her feet.
Belle opened her mouth to ask what the fairy was thinking, but the words remained unspoken as the Lost Boys suddenly burst into the cabin, their faces flushed with laughter and exercise. They playfully pushed and pulled at each other as they all fought at the same time to clear the entryway. Peter was not among them, and Belle had a strong feeling it was because he was avoiding her. When she returned her gaze to her knee, Aibreann had already departed. A pang of worry furrowed Belle's brow for a moment before Slightly's panting voice drew her attention.
"Whatcha staring at, Tinker Belle?" The plump boy asked, running a hand across his sweaty forehead and plopping heavily onto a mat by the hearth. The other boys finally surpassed the doorway, giggling as they stumbled over one another.
"Just thinking," Belle answered, smiling slightly at his use of her new moniker, which had seemed to become quite popular amongst the boys. "I'm surprised you are back inside so soon," she added, unfolding her legs to turn and face them all.
"We need to rest; Neverland's awfully hot today," Curly explained, picking at the sunburn that was peeling on his shoulder. The boys shuffled about, covering the floor with mats and tattered blankets before stretching out on the makeshift nest. A gentle rustling sound at the window alerted Belle to Peter's presence. He sat with his legs and arms folded tightly, and although he did not greet her, Belle felt a slight relief at the knowledge that he was not too upset to avoid her completely. Perhaps she might be able to reach him yet.
Belle's hopeful thoughts were briefly interrupted by Tootles' tiny voice tumbling forth from his smiling mouth.
"Could you tell us a story, Mothe-" Tootles' face went red as he realized what he had nearly called her. "Um...I mean..." His voice trailed off as he twisted his hands in his lap. Belle could not speak through her surprise; she gazed down at the smallest of the group, affection and sadness warring within her.
"Could-could we call you 'Mother'?" Pox asked timidly, his eyes hesitantly meeting Belle's. "Just for pretend?"
They all gazed up at her, and Belle felt her heart ache at the hope and timidity in their expressions.
"A-alright," Belle forced past the lump in her throat, and the boys positively glowed with their joy. "Just for pretend." Even Peter seemed to join them, his lips twitching into a smile. A shadow passed over his face when his eyes met Belle's, though, and he returned his gaze to his knees. Belle did not have to guess to know that it was because he knew she could not stay long enough to be more than a "pretend" mother to them.
"Could you tell us a story, Mother?" Tootles asked, a broad smile on his cherubic face. "Please?"
"Oh, please do!" Nibs and Curly cried at the same time, before grinning toothily at each other.
The quaint cabin was immediately filled with their imploring voices so that Belle nearly had to yell to tell them, "All right, all right! Yes, I will tell you a story!"
She smiled affectionately at them all as they cheered and hurried to settle comfortably on the floor at her feet. Tootles sat the closest, his face cupped in his chubby hands and his green eyes staring up at her in rapt attention.
"Tell one about dragons," Curly insisted, his ginger hair falling into his eyes as he hugged his knees.
"No, one about a king," Pox demanded excitedly, his long, lanky legs stretched out in front of him.
"We always tell stories about dragons and kings!" Nibs complained, his bottom lip sticking out in a pout.
"I think I know just the one," Belle quickly assured them before an argument could break out.
"I've known it since I was a girl..." The memory of a soothing voice echoed in Belle's mind, and she could almost feel the brush of cool fingertips against her brow. But who owned the voice she heard now in her thoughts? Belle's eyelids slid shut. She could almost feel a fine goose-feather pillow beneath her head as she recalled the voice's tinkling laughter.
The corners of her eyes prickled slightly as she tried to remember someone she was certain she should have never forgotten. One of the boys cleared his throat, pulling Belle from her nostalgic reverie. The Lost Boys were watching her, their eyes and smiles bright with anticipation. Only Peter seemed to detect that something was amiss, but he averted his concerned gaze when Belle looked his way.
"A long time ago," Belle began softly, the corners of her mouth twitching as the Lost Boys scooted even closer, "when the world was new and no human yet walked the earth, there was a beautiful oasis that was home to every kind of animal you can imagine. Eagles, wolves, elephants..."
"Dragons?" Curly asked excitedly.
"Shh!" The other boys scolded while Belle hid a grin behind her hand.
"For a while only peace and harmony existed between the animals. The world was new and they were new, so they reveled in the excitement of it all. Sunlight never waned and the days were filled with endless joy... But it did not last."
Belle paused dramatically, remembering how the woman who had told her the story had done the same thing.
"One day, while the animals were lounging along a riverbank, the Eagle declared to the dozing Cheetah by his side," Belle drew in a deep breath, thrusting her chin haughtily into the air and spreading her arms like wings, "'I am the greatest animal in the kingdom. I can soar above the highest clouds, while you only tread on the ground.' That caught the Cheetah's attention."
Belle hunched her shoulders, narrowing her eyes so she looked ready to pounce while the boys laughed.
"'You are wrong, Eagle,' the Cheetah growled. 'I am the greatest animal in the kingdom. My legs run faster than the wind; you hardly have legs at all!' And so the quarrelling began. Each animal claimed to be the best in the world: the Giraffe because she could reach the highest leaves on the tallest trees," Belle stretched her neck as far as she could, smiling as Nibs and Tootles copied her.
"The Alligator because his bite was the strongest," she added, raising her arms before her like a long set of jaws. "And so on, each one looking at the other and only seeing what they could not do. Only the tiny Hummingbird tried to stop the fighting. 'The world would miss any one of you should you leave it,' he told them."
Belle looked down at her audience, inwardly reveling in their disbelieving looks.
"But the other animals would not listen," she continued. "They mocked and teased him. 'What do you know, tiny Hummingbird? Your beak is the smallest and you have no claws. We have only ever seen you drink nectar from the most delicate flowers.' And they began to fight amongst themselves again."
"The fighting grew worse and worse, until the entire heavens echoed with the angry din. One day the creator of the earth could not stand it anymore, and with a deep sigh threw a great, big blanket over the entire world, encasing the animals in complete darkness!"
The youngest of the Lost Boys gasped while the older ones' eyes widened. Even Peter was entirely focused on the storyteller, who had to once more fight to keep herself from smiling.
"At first, the animals panicked. They cried and yelped in fear as they met darkness for the first time. But their fear soon dissolved into rivalry once more as they fought over who would be able to remove the blanket and return light to the world."
Once more Belle drew in a deep breath and raised her arms at her sides. "'I shall remove the blanket,' the Eagle declared, 'My wings can take me higher than any of you, and my talons are strong. I will prove to you that I am the greatest animal in the world.' Without another word, he soared into the sky and clutched the blanket with his talons."
"The Eagle will surely do it," Pox claimed confidently, crossing his ankles.
Belle curled her fingers so that they resembled claws and pantomimed grabbing the air above her.
"He pulled. And pulled. And pulled again, but the blanket would not move! Tired and embarrassed, he returned to the earth." She gave Pox a playful grin as he "humphed" in disappointment.
"The Cheetah decided to try next. 'I run the fastest; I will run up the side of the mountain and leap onto the blanket. You will see that I am the greatest animal in the world.' He sprinted as fast as he could, running up the side of the mountain and leaping high into the air."
"The Cheetah will get the blanket off, I know it," Nibs whispered loudly, his wide eyes trained intently on Belle.
"But the Cheetah could not leap high enough," Belle continued, "and he fell back to the earth tired and embarrassed. And so all the bickering animals tried in turn, each one unable to remove the blanket of darkness. Not one of them listened when the tiny voice of the Hummingbird insisted, 'I have an idea to bring the light back!' They saw how small he was, how he flitted from flower to flower. Why should they believe in him?"
The boys stared up at Belle, their brows creased in contemplation as they considered her question.
"So, the Hummingbird decided to act on his own. While the others resumed their fighting, he flapped his little wings as hard as he could, propelling himself toward the blanket. Faster and faster he soared, until finally his beak punctured the blanket with a soft 'pop!'
"He pulled away, and a beam of bright line shined through the little hole all the way down to the earth below. Silence fell over the fighting animals."
"The Hummingbird returned to the earth, before turning around and propelling himself again toward the blanket. Another 'pop!' sounded and another beam of light streamed through the hole. Realizing what the tiny bird was doing, the other animals began to cheer him on! Over and over he flew up to the blanket, piercing the fabric with his point beak until hundreds and hundreds of holes peppered the dark sky."
Peter and the Lost Boys gaped at their storyteller in wonder, their young minds no doubt painting the glorious picture the story conjured for them.
"At last, when the world below was dimly lit, the exhausted Hummingbird returned to the earth, his breast heaving with each breath." Belle slowly sank down to the floor, so that she was eye-level with her audience.
"'You saw my beak only drink nectar from delicate flowers,'" she said in a soft voice, "'You did not see that it could pierce the darkness and bring light.'''
"'We were wrong, dear Hummingbird,' the animals said apologetically. 'We should have listened. You are not what we thought at all." Belle looked up at Peter, her turquoise eyes pleading for him to understand, to reassess his judgment of her imprisoned true love.
The teenage boy's cheeks flushed slightly as he realized the lesson was actually directed toward him. He rose to his feet, his lips pressed in a hard line.
"It's not the same, Belle," Peter sighed exasperatedly, and his disuse of her nickname stung. The Lost Boys turned to look at him, some with their heads titled to the side. "Hummingbirds don't kill. Pirates do."
"Pirates?" Pox asked confusedly, drawing Belle's attention. She did not answer, returning her gaze to the windowsill. Peter stared at her for a moment, and Belle flinched at the mistrust and frustration she saw in his eyes.
He shook his head disbelievingly, before leaping into the air and vanishing amongst the branches. Belle turned to face the cabin entryway, wanting to follow him, but Tootles' small voice paused her movements.
"Won't you finish the story, Mother?" His green eyes stared imploringly up at her, as did the eyes of all the other Lost Boys. Even Pox had seemed to brush off Peter's brief interruption.
"Yes, dear, of course," Belle murmured, reaching to smooth down his sandy curls.
"'We know now that there is more to every one of us than meets the eye,' the animals said. And the creator of the earth, happy that the animals learned their lesson, finally lifted the heavy blanket. The animals cheered with joy as the full glory of the sun shone down on them." Each one of the boys' faces lit up at the mention of a happy ending.
"But the creator could not risk the animals forgetting all they had learned and repeating the same mistakes. So, he decided that for half of each day he would cover the world with the blanket, and the only light the animals would enjoy would be that which streamed through the tiny holes the Hummingbird had made."
Belle leaned back on her heels, placing her folded hands in her lap. The Lost Boys sat very still, each one seeming to mull the story over in their minds. Nibs looked over at the carvings on the cabin wall, his eyes falling on one depicting Neverland's night sky.
"I still think a dragon could have done better," Curly muttered, and Belle could not contain her laughter, smiling fondly at him.
"I want to be able to run like the Cheetah. Then I would beat you all at racing!" Nibs said excitedly, chewing on his thumbnail and pulling himself to his feet.
"Even if you were a Cheetah, you would never beat me at racing," Slightly said haughtily, swatting playfully at Nibs' head.
"Hah! You're the slowest of us all," retorted Pox.
"Wanna bet?"
In the next moment Pox and Slightly were sprinting toward the entryway, their shoeless feet smacking the wooden floor. The other boys hurried after them, laughing when they momentarily found themselves stuck in the doorway.
"Thanks for the story, Tink—I mean, Mother!" Curly shouted behind him. The others quickly echoed his gratitude, with Tootles turning around and running back to squeeze Belle's legs in a quick, tight hug, before once more sprinting out of the tree house. Belle stood in the center of the quaint cabin, shaking her head and chuckling at the boisterous children she was growing to care for like her own.
As the sounds of the Lost Boys' laughter grew farther and farther away, Belle found her thoughts returning back to the less pleasant ones of tomorrow's meeting and Peter's look of betrayal before he leapt out of the window.
Worry chewed uncomfortably at her stomach as she busied herself with tending to the cabin, picking up the mats and dusting every surface. The action stirred a series of half-memories: shelves piled with strange treasures, the clatter of breaking china, curtains tearing, a voice as smooth and warming as malted mead...
The rest of the day continued as such, with Belle tidying the Drey and wondering at the strange, yet achingly familiar images it conjured. The boys ran wild outside, their gleeful shouts and laughter occasionally pulling Belle from her reverie long enough to smile fondly at them through the window.
Night fell quickly, its darkness and cool breeze ushering the sleepy children to their cozy platform beds. The air around the tree house seemed unnaturally still and quiet, even as the crickets began to chirp and mysterious land to tune its nighttime orchestra. It was then that Belle noticed the distinct absence of the lilting notes of Peter's flute.
Belle found herself gravitating toward Peter's cabin, the memory of his harsh words and hurt expression at the front of her mind. The need to apologize, to have him understand, temporarily eclipsed all other worries and plans whirring behind her blue eyes.
"Peter," Belle called lightly from her perch at the base of the ladder, "May I come up?"
"No need," a voice suddenly sounded behind her. Belle released a rather undignified squeak as she jumped and whirled about. Peter hovered there, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly upward at her surprise.
Belle returned his grin with a hesitant one of her own, relieved that he did not seem quite as cross as he had earlier.
"I'm sorry for upsetting you, Peter," Belle said softly after a moment, "I only wanted you to understand."
"I still don't," the boy responded, shaking his head. "Why do you want to help him, Tink?"
Belle smiled tenderly at the return of her nickname, before thinking on his question. She looked away for a moment, staring into the distance. The answer was both wonderfully simple and impossibly complex at the same time.
"I love him," she replied, meeting his eyes again. Peter turned around, agitatedly running a hand through his hair.
"But, why?" Peter demanded, facing her again, and Belle knew he was recalling what he had seen that morning: a man foreign to this land saving the boy's worst enemy, the source of his deepest pain.
"Because he trusts me enough to let me love him," she answered gently. "He's not a bad man, Peter. I wish you could believe that."
"I want to," he responded imploringly, and Belle could see that he spoke truthfully. "But I saw him this morning; he's a p-"
"Parent looking for his child," Belle interrupted firmly. Peter looked away, and Belle added in a gentler tone, "As much as you might pretend otherwise, I know that means something to you."
Peter's gaze darted to hers again, his eyes sharp and his mouth opening to retort. "I'm not-"
The sudden low notes of the wind breathing through the trees silenced whatever he aimed to say. The swaying cattails plucked gently at the low-hanging vines like a harp. A voice, smooth and ethereal as the rays of Neverland's two moons, seemed to sound forth from the earth itself.
May there always be angels to watch over you,
To guide you each step of the way...
"Do you hear that?" Belle asked, her voice breathy as she recognized the soothing lyrics sung by Neverland's voice.
"It's your lullaby," Peter murmured, his eyes wide with wonder as they seemed to search the very air itself for the notes of the melody.
To guard you and keep you safe from all harm.
Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay...
"I wish you could stay," Peter whispered as the music quieted to a gentle hum. Belle felt her throat constrict as she took in the way his shoulders sagged and his eyes stared at his feet. He looked up at her hesitantly, the sadness etched in his features piercing Belle like a knife.
"Peter..." Her chest felt crushed by the conflicting emotions his whispered admission stirred. Words evaded her and she shook her head slightly as her eyes filled with tears. They watched each other silently for a long moment, before Peter turned and walked slowly to the end of the branch. His fingers absent-mindedly fiddled with his silver bracelet as he turned to look at her for a brief moment. With a sigh he soared into the air, the leaves of his tunic rustling as he headed for his cabin.
Smothering the sob that threatened to escape her tightly pressed lips, Belle slowly descended the spiraling stairs. A single hot tear slid halfway down her cheek before she abruptly wiped it away. Her meeting with the devil of Neverland was mere hours away, and she doubted he would be sympathetic towards a broken heart.
Belle decided to sleep outside tonight, sheltered at the base of the large oak where she would not have to fret over waking someone when she rose so early. She lied down on her side, curling inward like a babe as she so often had in the asylum. Fear that Hook would not meet her at dawn battled with fear that he would only too gladly meet her, and Peter's whispered confession still echoed in her thoughts.
The cool breeze blowing lazily over the land suddenly grew warmer and heavier, like a gentle, comforting embrace. It soothed Belle, and as the soft notes of the whispering willows wrapped around her, she felt her thoughts drift toward the blissful oblivion of slumber. As reality slowly disappeared around her, she heard the soaring notes of Peter's flute join the nighttime symphony. They danced lightly in the night air, and with a twinge of sorrow and a rush of affection, she realized he was playing her lullaby.
Belle's eyelids slid closed and she finally slept, completely unaware of the covert meeting taking place high in the branches above.
Three tiny fairies stood in a circle with their heads bent close. Their glowing auras-the green of Aibreann's, the orange of Buidhe's, and the violet of Flannach's-were hidden by the long, swaying vines of the willow on whose branch they huddled. A fourth fairy, with a deep red aura and flaming red hair to match, floated somewhat gracelessly toward them. She alighted on the branch with a soft thud, her wings fluttering lightly in the breeze. On the right one was a jagged, opaque scar that stretched from the top of the wing to a spot just before the bottom.
"Ruadh," Aibreann greeted quietly as the crimson fairy stepped nearer, "I'm glad you came."
Ruadh nodded silently, coming to stand beside the emerald pixie.
"What do you need to tell us, sister?" Buidhe asked Aibreann, an eyebrow quirked in amusement at this late meeting.
The green fairy let her gaze travel across each member of her audience. Taking a steadying breath, she revealed her news.
"Tomorrow at dawn, Belle is meeting with Captain Hook."
Had the subject not been such a grave one, their reactions might have been comical. Flannach gasped sharply, her hands flying to her mouth. Ruadh's eyes widened to the size of acorns. Buidhe simply shouted:
"Is the girl mad?!"
Aibreann ignored her outburst, continuing on in a calmly persistent manner. "I am going to follow her, to protect her. I have called you here to ask you to come with me."
The three of them gaped at her for a long moment, and again it was Buidhe who spoke first.
"Have you forgotten what happened the last time we tried to ambush Hook?" She asked heatedly, indignant in the face of her fear. "Three of us slaughtered-"
"Of course I have not forgotten," Aibreann snapped. Her gaze darted over to Ruadh, whose arms were now wrapped tightly around her middle.
Aibreann inhaled deeply and sighed, closing her eyes. After a moment she opened them again, meeting Buidhe's tear-filled ones. She reached out a hand to grasp one of Buidhe's. "How could I forget?" She asked quietly.
"This isn't really an ambush, though, right?" Flannach's voice shook slightly as she stared toward the southeast. "We're following to protect Belle, not to attack H-Hook?"
"Right. We make no move unless her life is threatened. They won't even know we are there," Aibreann assured her.
Flannach stared at her for a long moment, swallowing thickly. "Then I will go with you," she stated calmly.
"Flannach, you know how he is!" Buidhe gasped, her orange aura fading slightly as her face paled.
Flannach turned to Buidhe, clutching her other hand in both of her own.
"Buidhe, that is exactly why we must follow her. You know as well as I what Hook has done, what he can do. Please, in the name of our fallen sisters, you must understand. They would have wanted us to help."
The violet fairy stared at their joined hands for a long moment, before nodding slowly. "You're right, sister. Belle has been nothing but kind; we must look after her." The two fairies embraced, exchanging gentle smiles before turning to face their scarlet friend.
"I'm not going," Ruadh finally spoke, her voice barely louder than a whisper. "I won't-I can't see him again-I-" her voiced cracked as she glanced at her scarred wing, her features twisting in anguish.
"You can stay with the boys," Aibreann said softly, placing a gentle hand on the scarlet fairy's forearm, "They need someone to look after them until we return."
Ruadh nodded gratefully, blinking back the tears which had filled her grey eyes.
"Tomorrow at dawn we follow Belle to the southeastern shore," Aibreann declared resolutely, her attention directed toward Flannach and Buidhe. "We must not be seen; if Hook realizes she's been followed, who knows what he'll do."
A/N: Please review! :-)