Hey, guys... once again, I'm back a little earlier than expected. I was going to save this for later in the week, but last night I just got writing and by later today I had another chapter written. And so, I present to you, "Yellow Lilies and Serenades." While this is technically my shortest chapter so far, I think it might be my favorite, just because it was fun to write. It is, in fact, a flashback chapter, so yes, I believe I will be alternating between the present and the past one chapter at a time. It just seemed easier this way, and more effective for getting in all the material. So, I hope you enjoy!
Thank you for the reviews and the follows! I always look forward to hearing what people think when they read my stuff.
Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time.
Chapter 5: Yellow Lilies and Serenades
Many Years Ago
"Do you really think this is going to work?" Stefan asked his brother as they rode on their horses along the forest path. He was still new to riding, and the young horse kept shaking her head, indicating she wasn't a fan of the reigns.
The brother, Rodrick, however, was in complete control. "After all these years, you still doubt me, brother?" Rodrick replied with a smile. "Don't you worry. We'll ask nicely and if she doesn't comply—we'll do what we have to do."
Stefan gripped the reigns of his horse, fear racing through him as he thought of the tales the villagers relayed to him when he was still a child. He wasn't convinced that this quest would be as easy as Rodrick seemed to believe. "The stories have told that she rips out the hearts of those bold enough to venture into her corner of the forest. What if she does the same to us?" He knew he sounded like a coward, but it was hardly his fault. He couldn't dictate his own fears.
"Well, that's why we came prepared," Rodrick said with confidence, patting the sword at his side. "Stefan, are you with me on this or not? The willow tree is said to have magic properties that will save mother and grandfather. If you have room for hesitation, perhaps you should turn back."
"No!" Stefan snapped, riding ahead in his frustration. In spite of his concerns, he couldn't think of abandoning his family. "I'm not turning back. Not with their lives on the line."
Rodrick flicked his reigns to catch up and then gave his brother a pointed look. "Then prove yourself by growing a little backbone." After a few seconds, he smiled a little more gently and said, "If anything happens, I promise I'll keep you safe, all right? There's no need for you to worry."
Stefan felt a wave of guilt wash over him that his older brother had to offer to protect him when he was already 17 years old. But the poor boy could hardly help it, being as naturally timid as he was.
It was autumn. Red and orange leaves covered the forest floor, and their scent filled the crisp evening air. The sun shone dimly through the tree branches above them, warming the chilled ground here and there. But it wasn't enough to stop the inevitable approach toward winter—the three month-long silent slumber of the Enchanted Forest. When no sound could be heard, not the sound of a chirping bird, or that of a footstep in the newly fallen snow.
This changed, however, when the two brothers slowed their horses and entered a small grove. It was here that the quiet autumn turned into a new season, buzzing with life, filled with familiar sounds and smells. The trees were just blooming here, with tiny pink buds bursting open and brightening the forest with color. Petals floated along with the cool breeze, while the honey bees and the gold finches whizzed by the brothers' heads, as if too busy to bother to say hello.
In this part of the forest, spring had already sprung.
"It's just like the stories say," Stefan murmured, hopping off his horse next to his brother to follow him through the grove and past all the brush. Along the way, he caught a glimpse of a few hummingbirds and a rabbit or two, and he was amazed by the variety of life surrounding him—clearly more so than his brother, whose only focus was his mission.
After walking for a few minutes, they came upon an impressively large tree with tiny jade leaves that trickled down like tendrils of hair. It was a willow tree, that seemed almost out of place among so many ordinary trees, and yet at the same time right within its element.
"No one is here," Stefan said quietly, glancing around them curiously.
Rodrick nodded. "Well, then let's extract the sap before we draw any unwanted attention." He made a bold move toward the tree, but then stopped abruptly in his tracks when, from behind the trunk of the great willow, stepped a woman with long dark hair and deep green eyes.
"Hello," she said softly, her bare feet silent as she stepped toward them. She was slender and petite, with a long white dress covering her body. Stefan had never in his life seen a woman so striking despite her simple tresses and attire. She seemed so innocent, even though his more logical side warned him of the danger. And her voice—oh, Gods, her voice was softer and more delicate than a whistle carried along the wind across the sea.
"What can I do for you two gentlemen?" she asked, continuing to approach them without hesitation.
But Rodrick was prepared, and he immediately pulled out his sword, stopping the woman in her tracks by holding the blade up toward her face. "Stop," he ordered, taking a defensive stance. "Tell me who you are."
She smiled, her green eyes dancing with amusement. "Well, surely you've heard of me." Placing a finger out to touch the tip of Rodrick's blade, she said, "I'm—whoever you want me to be."
Rodrick's eyes narrowed. "So you're the famous Willow Maid. You're the one who killed all those men." Then, he lowered his sword and said, "Please. We need your magic to save our family. I understand your desire to protect this place, but I assure you our intentions are pure."
The Willow Maid tilted her head. "Your intentions are pure? Well, in that case, you can have as much sap as you like. That is, if you can get past me." Stefan watched as, with a wave of her hand, the Willow Maid transformed into a different woman. A taller woman with dark skin and creamy brown eyes. And she was a woman he knew.
"Amelia?" Rodrick whispered, his mouth hanging open. His sword fell out of his hand into the grass as the woman approached him. His shock had rendered him frozen on the spot—he'd fallen into her trap before even realizing it.
With a gentle smile, she touched his shoulder and replied in a new voice, "Yes… Rodrick, it's me." It held a tenderness and soft longing that would have made any man weak in the knees.
Stefan's heart began to race as he stared at Rodrick, apparently bewitched by his former lover. But he didn't know what to do to stop it. Should he intervene? "Rodrick," he said in an attempt to get his attention.
But he was ignored. The woman didn't answer him and Rodrick seemed to have forgotten his existence entirely. "Rodrick," the woman whispered, moving closer to him still and placing a hand on his cheek, stroking his skin gently. "I love you so much… please… will you stay here with me?"
Stefan took a step forward, still unsure how to handle this situation—bewitched himself, but in a different sense. He couldn't think clearly with his mind in a haze, as the panic set in. "Rodrick, it's not her, please—"
But the spellbound young man reached out to gather the woman into his arms, his eyes filled with longing and near starvation of affection, and he murmured, "Yes, I will," before leaning in to kiss her. In that instant, before their lips ever met, Stefan flinched as the woman pushed her hand through his brother's chest. Then, as she pulled away, his still beating heart rested in her hand. Stefan felt sick to his stomach as he listened to his brother groan from pain while the woman squeezed the beating heart. And all he could do was watch in horror as she crushed it between her fingers until it crumbled to dust.
Stefan cried out as Rodrick collapsed like a doll onto the earth, never to rise again. And as the woman's glamour faded and she once again appeared to him as the Willow Maid, he grabbed his brother's sword through his bitter tears and held it up toward her, trembling from both terror and crushing sorrow. "Why? You monster!" he snarled, gripping the sword with two hands.
She didn't flinch, however, and simply began toward him. Even with the sword in front of him, Stefan couldn't bring himself to use it and continued stepping back until he hit one of the trees behind him. "Why?" the Willow Maid asked, casually pushing his sword to the side and moving in close to cup his face in her hands. "Because he didn't pass the test."
"We just wanted the magic to help our family," he blubbered, hot tears running down his face. "Please… please…"
"Oh, I know, sweetie," the Willow Maid said, almost like a mother trying to reassure her child. "But the problem with that is, nothing ever comes without a price. That includes magic. And unfortunately for you, you'd never be able to handle it." Her piercing green eyes gazed into his, but he didn't have the words to explain what he saw in them. A forest filled with color, a lifetime of wisdom—his own life, fading away in their reflection. "Dry those tears," she said, patting his chest. "I'm doing you and your family a favor." Stefan gasped from the stab of pain inside him as she pulled his heart from his chest, and crushed it into dust as she had his brother's. The world around him ceased to exist before his body hit the ground.
And after brushing off her hands and ridding herself of the unpleasantness of their corpses, she headed out into the grove to send their horses home.
Over the years, people grew to fear the title of the maid who lived in the grove where it was always spring. It became increasingly rare that anyone would dare enter her domain, for no one was powerful enough to resist the allure of her enchantments. She didn't mind it, however, as she was content to share her forest with only the animals and the birds. To pass the time she would dance and sing or make carvings out of wood that the animals brought her. She'd lived so long without human company that she hardly missed it.
Humans—weak beings, they were. So easily corrupted by power and the seduction of magic. Those who walked down that path rarely returned. Perhaps one day they would learn their lesson. Or if nothing else, from the grave mistakes of others.
The Willow Maid's best friend was a hummingbird. A hummingbird she called Buzz. Each day she would feed him sap from the willow tree and he would stay nearby, no matter what she was doing.
"Buzz, I've no idea where I'd be without you," she said one day, poking the end of his long nose with her forefinger. Not that he could understand what she was saying. But he was loyal to her all the same.
"I think," she continued, hopping down from one of the willow branches doing a pirouette. "I have finally become an expert with every single dance move I can think of thanks to you." She laughed as he buzzed around her head a few times. "I wonder what's in style out there in the world, now. It would be interesting to see how things have changed." And then, as she tip-toed along a light ballet dance, she began to sing her song of joy. Her magic filled the grove, bringing brand new life to the trees—to the animals, and even her own spirit. She could feel the sun through the light patches in between the leaves, and she closed her eyes and imagined she had music to go along with her song.
Little did she know that not far away, a well-built, dark-haired young man walked through the forest. At his left, he carried a sheathed sword, while at his right he carried a quiver and hunting bow. He often passed through this way in his hunting travels, but never before had he heard the singing of the Willow Maid while on the path. The sound, more beautiful than anything he'd ever heard, made him stop in his tracks. And he began to follow the beautiful voice into the spring grove.
The animals grew restless as soon as they sensed the new presence within the grove, and immediately the Willow Maid stopped singing. Silence fell as the birds and animals hid and she spun around to face the hunter, who held spellbound eyes upon her.
Then, suddenly seeming to remember his manners, he bowed as a typical gentleman would do and said, "Pardon my intrusion. I didn't mean to disturb you."
The Willow Maid gazed at him curiously. "And what can I do for you, sir?"
To her surprise, when she asked he seemed a little bit flustered. "Oh, I—well, nothing. I just… I came out of curiosity, you see. I heard the most beautiful voice and I… I just had to know who it belonged to."
"Well, you've found me," she said with a dry smile. "Are you absolutely certain there's nothing else you want?"
The man made no move to reach for either of his weapons, but instead watched her, apparently not sure what to say. After a few seconds, he finally said, "You're—the Willow Maid, aren't you?"
She pushed a few strands of hair back behind her ear and replied, "Correction—I'm whoever you want me to be." Then, after a few steps forward and another pause, she said, "But there's no one you want, is there?"
He hesitated. "I—no. I'm afraid love is something I know little of."
The Willow Maid smiled again. "Fortunately for you, I think love is something most people know little of."
"And you?" he asked, catching her by surprise again.
"I know nothing of it."
This time, it was the hunter who smiled. "What a shame. I'd think someone who sings as beautifully as you would know all about it."
She shrugged one shoulder. "You don't have to know much about something to sing it."
"I suppose you're right," he said. Then, stepping forward and causing her to tense slightly, he asked, "Would you sing for me?"
"Aren't you worried I might kill you?"
At that, he appeared taken aback. "Ah—I'm sorry—I thought you only took the lives of those who sought your magic."
That was true. Unless he threatened bring harm to her or take sap from the tree, she had no reason to kill him. But the fact that he looked at her with so little fear in his eyes, despite knowing what she was capable of—it made her uncomfortable.
Finally, she laughed. "So—you—want me to sing for you? Is that it? Why should I?"
"Because I think it's unfortunate for a woman to have such a lovely voice if no one is there to listen."
To that, she had no clever retort. But there was still no way she was about to sing, just because some strange man asked her to. "I will if you do something for me in return," she offered.
"And what's that?" he asked.
She grinned and sat down cross-legged in the grass. "I want a lily. A yellow one."
His eyes widened slightly. "A yellow lily? But—those don't grow anywhere near here. I'd have to travel miles—"
"Those are my terms," she said firmly. "If you want a song, find a yellow lily and bring it back to me. If not, I'll never sing for you."
The hunter's expression seemed to fall slightly, but nevertheless he granted her a nod and straightened his stance. "Very well, then," he said, before turning and taking his leave from the grove. The Willow Maid let out a sigh and lay back in the grass as some of the animals began to emerge from the bushes and behind the trees.
I'm never going to see him again.
But how wrong she was. For the next day, while she was lazing about on a tree branch, the hunter returned. Of course she made sure to keep a keen watch when she felt a presence enter the grove, but when she saw his familiar face, she could hardly believe it. "You must be joking," she muttered under her breath, and briefly considered just killing him to get him out of the way, until he called her.
"Willow Maid, are you here?"
"I'm here," she said dryly, dropping out of the willow and surprising him. "Why did you come back?"
He smiled triumphantly and pulled his hand out from behind his back, revealing a slightly faded yellow flower with long petals and a healthy green stem. It was the most beautiful lily she'd ever seen. Or at least, she could tell that it had been once in its prime. "I got you the yellow lily you asked for," the hunter said, holding it out toward her.
Hesitantly, the Willow Maid reached out and took the bloom, her fingers briefly brushing against his rough and calloused hand. "I truly can't believe you actually travelled the distance to find this," she admitted.
"Well, we did make a deal," he said. "And now I believe you owe me a song."
Even though the Willow Maid knew the terms of their agreement, she couldn't help feeling defeated in a way, since she hadn't set her bets on this man wanting to hear her voice enough to travel across the land for it. And yet, here he was, having fulfilled his end of the bargain. Now she had no choice but to follow through with hers.
"All right, then—you win," she muttered under her breath, before turning her back and kneeling down underneath the willow tree. She tried to ignore the feeling of the hunter's eyes on her while she dug a small hole in the earth with her hand and wrapped a few layers of soil around the stem of the yellow lily. After a few seconds, the stem grew and the color that was lost from aging seeped back into the flower. Now, it would live forever under her tree.
She sighed and turned back toward the hunter, ready to sing for her new and unexpected audience. "All right, sir. What would you like me to sing? I can make you laugh, I can make you cry, I can make you dream, I can make you die—"
The hunter gave her a startled look and she laughed. "But obviously, you won't choose the last one. Sorry, that was just a little rhyme I made up on my own."
"I see," he said awkwardly. "Well—it is quite creative."
"Thank you," she replied, intentionally keeping her tone nonchalant. "So, what will it be? Feel free to sit if you'd like."
The hunter did as she suggested and then scratched his head in a way she couldn't help finding a little bit endearing. "Well," he said, crossing his legs and leaning forward. "I suppose—make me laugh."
She took a quick few seconds to consider the song she wanted to sing and then nodded. "As you like." And she began. Songs that had the power to make people laugh were always light-hearted, and of course she could hardly avoid bursting into dance within the first 30 seconds, letting the music in her heart lead the way. And despite the presence of the hunter, the birds and the animals began emerging from the trees and bushes to listen along with him. As expected, he laughed repeatedly throughout the song, although the Willow Maid was careful to keep the intensity to a minimum so that he didn't start laughing uncontrollably. Although she probably would have found it amusing, he likely wouldn't appreciate her making his sides burn.
And so she danced until the end of the song, surprised by how easily she was able to get immersed in the music with someone watching her. It was not a new experience, singing in front of an audience, but it was not something she'd done in many, many years.
When she was finished, the hunter clapped for her in the midst of his laughter. "That—that was wonderful. No—that doesn't describe it. Oh, I'm not sure there's any word that can."
"Well, that is kind of you to say," the Willow Maid said, folding her hands behind her.
"Where did you learn to dance like that?" he asked.
"I've danced my entire life," she replied simply.
He smiled and then stood on his feet, moving forward and catching her hands before she could step out of reach. "Listen—" he said, "If I—if I bring you another flower two days from now, will you sing for me again?"
She blinked. For a few seconds, she searched his eyes for some evidence that he was joking, but she found none. "You—is it that important to you?"
"Well, it's—a bit lonely at home where I live," he admitted. "But hearing you sing—I don't know. I just want to come back. So if I bring you another lily, will you sing for me again?"
She could have refused. In fact, the more reasonable side of her wanted to. What right did this man have for coming into her domain and demanding performances? He should have been terrified of her, running for the hills at the very mention of her name. But instead, he was here, asking her if could come back.
"Yes."
His eyes lit up and he squeezed her hands, causing her to jump slightly in surprise before he let her go. "I should be going," he said, turning away. "But thank you for the song. I'll be back in two days."
At first, the Willow Maid was just planning to let him leave without a word, but before she could stop herself, she called, "Wait."
He stopped and glanced back. "You never told me your name," she said.
With a short laugh, he said, "Oh, right. I'm Aiden." And with that, he disappeared from the grove, leaving the Willow Maid alone with Buzz perched on her shoulder. And for a brief, sparkling moment, she even dared to hope that Aiden might return in two days.
So, on one hand I feel kinda bad for this. I mean, Willow was NOT very nice, lol. I will say that her actions are mainly just to protect her tree, which is obvious considering she makes no attempt to harm Aiden since he wasn't after the magic. But still, even though I kind of just thought up Stefan and Rodrick out of thin air, I felt soooo sorry for them by the time I was finished writing those pages. And kinda hated Willow a little, as well, lol. But I assure you, she's not all bad. Like all the villains of OUAT she has feelings and her own set of demons. And honestly, her problems at this point in her story are small in comparison to what she gets into later. I think you'll find soon enough that she's actually quite complex.
By the way, in case anyone out there happens to pick up on it, I took a tiny bit of inspiration for Willow's singing powers from a book I read in Middle School, called "Song Quest" by Katherine Roberts. While I don't remember the novel itself too well, I remember that there were several different songs sung by the characters for different purposes. There was a song that could make you dream, a song that could make you laugh, one that could make you cry, one that could make you scream, and then one that could kill you. And so I decided to use that concept a little bit for Willow, since I think as a siren it would make sense for her to be able to influence emotions and behavior through her singing.