Hello friends, and welcome to Chapter 4 of Song of the Savior! This chapter was kinda hard to write, but I enjoyed it. We're back in the present here this chapter. I haven't decided yet if I want to do a flashback every other chapter or every two chapters. I might be better off doing every other chapter the more I think about it, but we'll see. If anyone who's reading this so far has a preference, feel free to let me know your thoughts and I'll take it into account. If not, I'll probably just decide sometime this week.

In any case, thanks for your support thus far and leave a review if you have time! Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon A Time.

Chapter 4: I Promise

Two Days Ago

"Magic is different here—Dearie," Gold said mockingly as he approached Regina in the sheriff's office. He would have been lying if he said he didn't enjoy seeing her vulnerable and defeated, trying futilely to conjure her magic within her jail cell. He might have smiled if only he wasn't already seething with rage. Watching her lose everything as a result of the curse breaking wasn't enough for him today. He would be first in line to get his vengeance.

Regina glanced up at him, stiffening in his presence as if she already knew why he was here—that he now realized exactly what she'd kept a secret from him for the last 28 years. Despite her meager attempts, she never had much talent for suppressing her emotions. "I noticed," she said in a stand-offish tone, in an effort to keep her composure. "I assume this is all your doing."

"Most things are," Gold said simply.

"Get to it, Rumple," Regina snapped. "What do you want? Then, raising her eyebrows, she asked, "You here to finish the job?"

Coming to a halt in front of her cell while leaning on his cane, he shook his head mildly. "No, no, no… you're safe from me."

"I feel so relieved," she said in mock surprise.

"But I did make a deal with someone. A deal that you'd suffer for what you did."

Regina's face showed mild interest. "Well, I've done a lot of things, so I suppose you'll have to be more specific."

This time, Gold smiled bitterly and fished into his pocket, pulling out a small vial with a single drop of magic inside it. It was faint, but its glow still pulsed under his fingertips. He held it up, just out of her reach. "Do you know what this is, Regina?"

"Can't say that I do."

Gold tilted his head. On another day, it might have been amusing to watch her cover up such blatant lies. He knew better than to believe her nonchalant claims, especially considering the way her eyes flickered when she saw the vial. "Are you sure about that?"

"I'm not in the mood for your games at the moment, Rumple. If you have something to say," she hissed, leaning close to the bars, "Then say it."

Gold's fingers tightened on the vial. If he was being entirely frank, he wasn't particularly in the mood for games either. Not this time. "Willow."

That was all he needed. He saw it all—the way her body tensed in reaction to her name. And even as she widened her gaze, continuing to feign surprise, he saw through all of it. She knew she'd been caught. "So, she's alive."

"You are a dreadful liar," he said through his teeth, stepping closer to the bars. "Where is she, Regina? Where is she?"

She shook her head. "I—I don't know—"

"You're lying to me—"

"No! No, I'm not!" Her voice rose over his and he fell silent for a few seconds, even as his blood boiled under his skin. His usual perfectly composed demeanor was crumbling on him as he held her dark gaze. "I swear, Rumple, I don't know where she is. She disappeared before I cast the curse. All I can tell you is that she isn't in Storybrooke."

"She disappeared," he murmured. "How convenient."

"I'm telling you the truth."

"So, what? Too resourceful for you, Your Majesty? Did you really think you'd be able to use her against me?"

"I could have killed her," Regina pointed out. "But I didn't."

"No, you did much worse than that," Gold shot back. "You kept her alive so you could kill her when it suited you. A fate worse than death." Then, with a short, humorless chuckle, he said, "Which, incidentally, is exactly what I have in mind for you." Before she had a chance to ask any questions, Gold reached through the bars and snatched her wrist. Turning her hand up, he pressed the amulet in his other hand to her palm. Regina let out a gasp as the amulet seared her skin.

"Is that…?"

He smiled. "Yes, Dearie. The one thing no one can escape. Destiny. And I promise, yours is particularly unpleasant." Finally, he released his grip and she pulled her hand back, clenching it and unclenching it with fury in her eyes.

But all he could do was laugh at her expense.

Now

Gold couldn't sleep.

This on its own didn't make it an abnormal night. He rarely bothered to sleep, since it wasn't a necessity for a Dark One. For once, there was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to slip into blissful nothingness for a few hours. But if he tried to sleep, he knew he'd only be plagued by nightmares, as he had been each time he slept over the course of the last two centuries.

And so he spent his time down in his cellar, tampering with magic, searching for some way—any way—to create a memory potion strong enough to allow him to cross the town line. Unfortunately, although there was now magic in Storybrooke, ingredients were still in short supply. For the most part, he was entirely improvising—which wasn't exactly a method he preferred.

He'd already failed to get results multiple times. And the next time was no different, when he didn't get the reaction that he wanted from his solution. Except this time, he let out a frustrated sigh and threw and arm across his bench table, causing a few dozen flasks to shatter on the floor. But he stopped abruptly when he realized his mistake, reaching down to snatch a single vial out of the air before it hit the ground.

Immediately his anger simmered down and he leaned against the bench table, holding Willow's vial in his hands. He turned it between his fingers, watching the droplet of sap glisten under the lamp light.

He still couldn't decide if he was relieved, or if it simply complicated things further for him. He'd gotten Regina to cast the curse so that he could come to this land and search for his son. But now that he was here, he had to come upon the realization that, not only was his Willow still alive, she'd somehow escaped the curse and was either running around in the Enchanted Forest or some other land.

He lowered his head. No, he corrected. Not your Willow. You know better than that.

The fact remained that she was missing, just like his son. And while he was here in this land, trying to find a way to reach Bae, he felt helpless to do a thing for her. His only comfort was knowing she was alive as long as there was magic in this vial. And that she had the full capability of looking out for herself, he had no doubt.

"I'm going to find my son," he whispered, stroking the glass of the vial lightly with his thumb. "And after I do I'll come for you, wherever you are. You won't slip through my fingers this time. I promise." And one thing everyone knew about Rumpelstiltskin, was that he never broke his promises.

After taking the rest of the night to get a little bit of sleep, Emma and Mary Margaret and the others made the long trek back to the island haven. It was a particularly disheartening journey back, at least for Emma, since they went all that way for nothing. The wardrobe was lost and basically the only thing they could be happy about was the fact that they hadn't been eaten by ogres or torched by Regina's crazy bitch mom.

As they made their way through the brush not far from the base, Aurora murmured, "I don't know if I can do this. I'm not a very good liar."

"Oh, it's not really a lie, Aurora," Mary Margaret chimed in. "Lancelot did die an honorable death, and Cora did escape. All true."

Emma sighed. "Just leave the particulars to us. There's no reason to cause unnecessary panic amongst your people."

"I'm not so sure it's unnecessary—" Aurora began, only to be cut off when a familiar voice cut through the mid-morning air.

"Hey! Mulan—Mulan!"

It was then that Emma saw the dark haired, green-eyed girl running toward them at full speed. "Everyone—"

"Willow—what's wrong?" Mulan asked, catching Willow by the arms as she came to a startling halt in front of her. "What happened?"

Heaving and out of breath, Willow turned and glanced back toward the base. "We have a problem—" she said, her eyes wide and alert as if she'd seen something terrifying. Then, glancing at Emma, Mary Margaret, and Aurora, she added, "And I'm not sure your friends will be prepared for it."

"What are you talking about?" Emma asked.

Mulan's body was tense. "Willow, tell us."

There was a short pause, but then Willow pulled away from Mulan and gestured for them all to follow her. "You'll have to see for yourselves."

A knot formed in Emma's chest as she made her way into the base with her companions. But what she saw when she stepped past the noticeably empty guard tower into the base was more disturbing and gruesome than even she imagined. "Oh my god," she said, scanning the field, once filled with the survivors of the Dark Curse—now covered with their corpses. Lifeless bodies were strewn across the ground, blood splattered on many of their chests. Some of them were spread apart along the field, while others were clumped together in heaps, like ragdolls.

"This can't be," Mulan breathed, dumbstruck. "Our land—we were protected here. Hidden. How did the ogres find us?"

"They didn't," Willow said, her eyes shining with tears. "It was that woman. It was Cora."

"Their hearts," Mary Margaret said, analyzing the carnage. "They were ripped out. This is her magic, twisted and evil. We have to stop her."

"Too late," Mulan said in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone. "She killed them. She killed them all."

"Well, we have to stop her before she hurts anyone else!" Mary Margaret said.

Emma thought she was about to be sick as she scanned the area, barely able to stand the sight of so much death in one place. But her adrenaline kicked in and she sprang into action when she saw the unthinkable—a live hand moving from a pile of bodies and debris just a few yards away. "Hey, hey! Look!" She pointed toward the source of movement and headed toward it, while the others did the same.

"There's someone under there," Aurora said, rushing over to help Emma and Mulan free the survivor from the wreckage. The dirtied, bruised young man whimpered as they pulled him to safety as gently as they could, and he glanced between them frantically as if he feared they might bring him harm. Although she could hardly blame him after what happened here. Anyone would be totally in shock.

"Please," he croaked as he struggled to sit up.

"It's okay," Mary Margaret said in an attempt to soothe him.

"Please… help me."

"It's okay," Mary Margaret repeated softly. "You're safe now. We won't hurt you."

In between quick, shallow breaths, the man nodded, seeming reassured by her gentle words. "Thank you… thank you."

But it was almost immediately after this that Emma's inner alarm system started going off. It occurred to her, based on what she'd managed to gather from Cora thus far, that someone who relied on timing and strategy wouldn't make a mistake like leaving a victim alive. She supposed it was possible, but something didn't add up. And it wasn't just because the guy they just dug out from under the rubble looked like every other piece of scum she'd ever met. Other than the fact that he only had one hand, which she noticed as they tried to move him. That was a first.

Nevertheless, she helped her companions get the stranger on his feet and over to a table where he could sit more comfortably. To her surprise, she was then ushered aside by Willow, who abruptly caught the man's jaw between her fingers and used her other hand to push open his eyes.

"Ow," he hissed, flinching away. "What are you doing?"

"Checking to make sure you aren't about to drop dead," she told him, placing two fingers against his neck to check his pulse. "You seem fairly healthy. Although… I suppose I could spare a little of this for you." Out of a little pouch beneath her jacket, she pulled a small tube of a clear salve, which she proceeded to dab on the man's face cuts and bruises.

"What is that stuff?" Emma asked out of curiosity.

"It's a concoction of several powerful healing herbs," Willow replied.

"She's been teaching the people here how to make different ailment remedies and potions," Mulan added. "It's one of her specialties."

"It stings," the man said.

But Willow simply glowered at him in response. "Bear it. It hurts now, but in a few hours, you will be as good as new."

Mary Margaret cleared her throat and set down her weapons. "While she's tending to him, Aurora, why don't you and I try to get a fire going over there?" she said, pointing to the pit past the maze of dead bodies. "Emma and Mulan, maybe you could go find him some water? I think there's a stream less than a quarter mile west over there."

Mulan nodded. "That sounds like a good idea. Emma?"

For some reason, Emma felt uneasy about leaving Mary Margaret and Aurora alone with Willow and the strange man for any length of time, but she reluctantly headed into the woods beside Mulan looking for water. The entire way she felt sick to her stomach as flashes of the corpses went through her mind. All those people—God, all those people.

And the intensity of the silence within the forest didn't exactly lift her spirits either. She could hear only the crunching of leaves and branches under her feet, the occasional rustling of breeze above them. She held her arms close to her and kept a brisk pace, trying her best to just focus on getting back quickly and start asking some questions. While Emma did not consider herself someone who got freaked out easily, she was pretty sure she was past her limit by now. How she'd managed to hold herself together through the last 72 hours—she had no idea.

After collecting some fresh water, Emma decided to make the walk back to camp easier on herself by asking Mulan a question or two. "You seen him before?"

"Yes, I've seen him around," Mulan said quietly. "He's a blacksmith. He came to our camp a couple months ago. Said he lost his hand in an ogre attack."

They came back upon the camp, where Willow was now assisting Mary Margaret with moving the dead out the way and building a fire. Aurora watched over the stranger, but he seemed either deep in thought or just too in shock to make any conversation. Then again, for all she knew he may have been contemplating his next lie.

Finally, Emma decided to speak her mind. "Why would Cora leave survivors? It's messy. It doesn't make sense."

"You think he's lying?"

"I think it's suspicious that he and Willow miraculously survived this attack. And I think Cora's tricked us before. I just don't want that to happen again."

Approaching the man with one hand, she set a cup of water down on the table for him and then handed another to Aurora. "Here you go." Then, turning her head, she asked, "Do you guys want any?"

"Oh no," Mary Margaret said, brushing off her hands as she made her way over. "I'm okay for now. Let them drink."

Emma's eyes flickered to Willow. "What about you?"

She shook her head. "No. Thank you."

Then, Emma reached into her pocket, suddenly remembering the ogre whistle that she still had handy. "Oh. Here. I wanted to give this back. It was a big help."

Willow smiled through the look of distress on her face, and took back the whistle. "I knew it would be." Emma watched through narrow eyes, waiting for some kind of sign as Willow shoved it back into the pouch at her side. A sign that her intentions were less than noble, or even a flicker of disconnection from all these deaths. But she ended up with nothing.

"I can't thank you enough for your kindness," the man said in a shaky tone before taking a sip of his water. "Fortune, it seems, has seen fit to show me favor."

Yeah, we'll just call it luck.

"An island full of corpses." She glanced between him and Willow. "You're the only ones to escape. How exactly did that happen?"

Willow's forehead creased and she looked down at the man with an unsure, perhaps even confused expression. So he went first, face contorting as he recalled the event: "She attacked at night – slaughtered everyone in one fell swoop. When she started ripping out people's hearts, I hid under the bodies of those who had already been killed. Pretended to be dead myself. Mercifully, the ruse worked."

And yet—it didn't feel real.

"So much for fortune favoring the brave," Emma said.

"It was all I could do to survive," the man breathed.

This time, Emma lowered herself to his level by leaning her elbows on the table across from him and murmured, "I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. I'm pretty good at knowing when someone is lying to me."

"I'm telling you the truth," he said. But for some reason, she still wasn't convinced his eyes were telling the same story. He was full of crap. And he could tell she knew.

"You think this pathetic little bunny rabbit is conspiring with the enemy?" Willow cut in, raising a brow. But when Emma met her gaze, there was no humor there. By the sluggish way she moved, it was clear that she was upset about the recent events and the deaths of all these people. She didn't get the same vibe from her that she got from the man. Was there a possibility that the survival of both of them was a coincidence?

"None of this adds up," Emma said. "I'm just trying to get to the bottom of it."

"I think, at the very least, another explanation is in order," Mary Margaret said, her voice more patient and composed than Emma's by this point. "How exactly did you survive, Willow?"

"I went down to the ocean to collect sea water and—build a sandcastle. I heard the screaming, but by the time I returned, everyone was already dead." Her voice broke slightly at the end.

There was a pause. Emma folded her arms. Was she being serious? "Building a sandcastle. In the middle of the night?"

"My shifts were finished and I don't sleep very much. Is it a crime to ask for a bit of alone time at night?" Emma was accustomed to watching people get defensive while trying to hide a lie. But that wasn't the vibe she was getting this time. Willow was genuinely insulted that her credibility had been questioned.

After a moment, Mulan spoke up. "I think she's telling the truth. She goes down to the water almost every night for her own enjoyment. But she always brings back sea water for the salt. She's been with us a long time and even saved my life once. We can trust her."

"But Cora masqueraded as Lancelot," Aurora pointed out. "Who's to say she couldn't impersonate Willow just as easily?"

There was another pause, but this time Willow simply shrugged and turned away. "In times like these, it's nearly impossible to completely trust anyone. Unfortunately, I can't give you any more than my word, so I won't waste my time." Then, turning toward Emma with a sad smile, she said, "Speaking of wasting time—the longer we spend arguing about who our true allies are, the less time we have to spend finding a way to stop Cora before she causes even more damage. And I, for one, have seen enough corpses for one day."

This girl was really starting to get on Emma's nerves. It was so easy with most people. She got a read on the guy next to her that had her on to his lies almost immediately. But with Willow—she couldn't get anything. It seemed like she was telling the truth and yet—there was still something off about her that she couldn't place.

But Mulan replied before she had the chance to get another word in. "We're agreed there. We should leave here in case Cora decides to come back."

Mary Margaret nodded. "We should start searching for a new portal back to Storybrooke. I only got about five minutes with my husband, not to mention my grandson."

At that, the man's lip turned up slightly. "You have a grandson?"

With a sigh, Mary Margaret said, "Long story."

"Well, I know this land well," the man said, "I can guide you—"

Emma stopped him by grabbing his short dark hair and pressing her knife to his throat. There was no way she was allowing this guy stick around long enough to put her companions in danger. "You aren't guiding us anywhere until you tell us who you really are. Willow may be in the clear for now, but you've still got a lot of explaining to do, Buster."

Cora should have let Willow do this alone. She knew from the start that Killian was never going to slip by them, in spite of all his self-proclaimed charisma. The only reason Cora wanted the pirate involved in this plan to begin with was because she didn't trust Willow. Which, admittedly, wasn't unreasonable. Sirens had a natural talent for deception and misdirection. As a result, Willow knew gaining the trust of Mulan, Aurora, Snow White, and Emma would primarily be her job.

Her main gripe here was the fact that it was essentially by the skin of her teeth that Killian getting caught wasn't an automatic loss for her. That was the reason she was so insistent that she and Killian show no evidence of relation to one another after being found. Then, at least, if Killian couldn't get their trust, Willow would still have a chance.

However, she could already tell that winning over Emma would be an extra challenge.

She played her part perfectly, helping to tie Killian up against a tree even as he struggled and complained like a child. It was rather satisfying, getting to treat him like a prisoner and watch him attempt in vain to save himself. While it wasn't quite the revenge she hoped to exact later, it was a decent appetizer.

"I already told you, I'm just a blacksmith!" he cried pathetically as Willow bit her tongue to hold back a laugh.

"Sure you are," Emma said. Then, to Willow's own surprise, she lifted her fingers to her lips and whistled. The echo of a roar erupted in the distance, signaling the presence of ogres not far away. "You don't want to talk to us? Maybe you'll talk to the ogres while they rip you limb from limb."

The ground shook as the ogres drew near. "Come on," Emma said, starting away at a quickened pace.

Somewhat like Emma, Willow had a certain way about people and knew where to look for malicious intent. Upon first glance at Emma, Willow saw someone guarded and strong-willed, but also someone with a pure heart. Someone kind, with integrity and a strong sense of right and wrong. She hadn't expected this woman would even consider inflicting such a cruel fate on anyone, even an enemy.

But she had to admit, it was intriguing.

She picked herself up and followed behind the troop, despite some brief hesitation. Would Killian give in and tell the truth? While she couldn't say she was particularly bothered by the prospect of letting Killian get torn to pieces by ogres, she also wasn't sure how Cora would react if she found out Willow let that happen. But she didn't want to risk losing what little trust she had from the others just yet. Then again, would it even matter? If she left him, was there the possibility he would call her out along with him?

"You—you can't just leave me here like this!" Killian shouted, pulling against the ropes.

"What if he's telling the truth?" Aurora asked.

Emma held her ground. "He's not."

Another growl came from the trees. Come on, Killian, make up your mind.

Willow glanced back hesitantly and locked eyes with him, raising an eyebrow. She saw him clench his teeth, and then with a frustrated groan he shouted, "Good for you! You bested me." Emma and the others stopped. "I can count the amount of people who've done that on one hand."

Yes, you truly have no equal, Captain.

The group made their way back toward the tree. "Is that supposed to be funny?" Emma asked. "Who are you?"

"Killian Jones," he said. "But most people have taken to call me by my more colorful moniker—Hook."

"Hook," Snow White repeated.

"Check my satchel," Killian told her.

While Snow White fished through Killian's satchel, Emma eyed him unimpressed. "As in—Captain Hook?"

He smiled with satisfaction. "So you've heard of me."

Please don't encourage him…

Snow White then pulled his hand-sized silver hook out of his bag, just in time for the ground to shake once again.

"So you're working with her?" Willow hissed through her teeth. "You let all those people die?"

"You better hurry up," Emma said. "They're getting closer. So, unless you want to be dinner, you better start talking."

Killian lowered his gaze and smiled despite his obvious irritation. "Cora wanted me to gain your trust, so I could learn everything there is to know about your Storybrooke. She didn't want any surprises when she finally got over there."

"She can't get there. We destroyed the wardrobe," Snow White said.

"Ah, but the enchantment remains. Cora gathered the ashes. She's going to use them to open up a portal." Then, pulling on his ropes again, he said, "Now, if you'll kindly cut me loose—"

"No," Mulan said. "We should leave him here to die. To pay for all the lives that he took."

Willow bit her lip. As much as she liked that plan…

"That was Cora, not me," Killian said.

After a short pause, Emma murmured, "Let's go."

They all started away, again, and at that moment it occurred to Willow that she was going to need to come up with something quickly in order to convince them to spare him. Because apparently he couldn't manage it by himself! The fool…

But Killian evidently wasn't entirely out of ideas just yet. "Wait. Wait!" he called, almost desperately. "You need me alive."

"Why?" Emma asked, her tone revealing that her patience was waning.

"Because we both want the same thing—to get back to your land."

Emma approached him again. "You would say anything to save yourself. Why are we supposed to believe you now?"

"I arranged for transport with Cora," he said. "But, seeing how resourceful you are, I'll offer you the same deal. I'll help you, if you promise to take me along."

"How are you going to help us get home?" Snow White asked, still disbelieving.

Killian lowered his voice to explain as the roaring of the ogres continued. Gods, if they stayed here much longer he wasn't going to be the only one stuck in their teeth tonight. "The ashes will open a portal, but, to find your land, she needs more. There's an enchanted compass. Cora seeks it. I'll help you obtain it before she does."

"So, Cora won't make it to Storybrooke, and we'll be one step closer to getting home," Emma said.

"Sounds too good to be true," Snow White said.

"There's only one way to find out," Killian replied.

"We don't have to trust him," Willow added, glancing at Snow White. "But at the moment, it seems like he's the best chance we have."

Emma seemed to hesitate at first, but then, stepping close to him with a dagger in her hand, she said, "You tell me one thing, and whatever you say, I better believe it. Why does Captain Hook want to go to Storybrooke?"

With that question, Killian's eyes grew serious, his jaw set with bitterness and determination. Then, without missing a single beat, he confessed, "To exact revenge on the man who took my hand… Rumpelstiltskin."

And it wasn't only Willow who felt chills run down her spine when Killian spoke his name. Emma and Snow White knew him—which meant he was safe in Storybrooke after all. And yet, in spite of her brief moment of relief, her uneasiness subsequently became greater than ever. He was the part of this mission that frightened her the most. If there was one person in this world or any world that Willow would never allow to die for her, it was Rumpelstiltskin.

Don't worry, Dearie. After I make it to Storybrooke, I'm going to fix this. I promise.

Okay, so yeah. I had a hard time at first, but once I really got into the chapter it was fun. I enjoyed writing Willow's lines and her perspective. Now that we're getting into the story, I feel like it's time to start fleshing her out more and take away at least a little bit of the mystery. I think, even now, it's kind of hard to get a feel for the kind of person she really is because she's basically pretending to be someone she's not. But still, I think there's a little bit here and there to give you at least some of an idea. XD