Finally, he managed to catch up with her. Dark wisps of hair framed her face that was masked by the dazzlingly bright sunshine. She whispered something, the word fluttering in the breeze, growing louder.
"Jefferson, Jefferson..."
She grabbed hold of his hands, their coldness sending an icy chill through him.
Jefferson's eyes snapped open and he blinked as he struggled to register the sudden change from colour to black and white. But the voice still remained, repeating his name, over and over, their sing-song voice distorted with concern.
"Jefferson?"
He frowned, his focus finally settling. Elizabeth wasn't in a colourful land at all: instead she was stood over him, her hand pressing something cool to his forehead. She pulled her arm away and rinsed the cloth in a shallow cup of water.
"You were calling out for me in your sleep," Elizabeth explained before gently dabbing at Jefferson's forehead again, "I've been here for the past hour or so but your temperature isn't getting any better. I've tried everything to make it go down..."
Elizabeth motioned to the open window, which was letting in a brief breeze and the tugged-down sheets that exposed his bandaged chest.
"I wouldn't worry about it. Probably just from an infected cut," Jefferson lied, glanced down at the clean bandages that appeared to have been freshly replaced, "Just go and get Victor."
"He's not in! The Count found out about our father's death at the wedding rehearsal last night. Victor's helping him sort all the legalities with my father's lawyers. He thought because you were asleep, you'd be alright," Elizabeth replied, her voice trembling slightly.
"I am alright," Jefferson soothed, "I'm sure it'll go down."
He gave Elizabeth a reassuring smile. She half-smiled back, though the fretting look in her eyes lingered.
"How about you read to me?"
Elizabeth considered the suggestion for a moment, resting her hand over his.
"I'll just be a minute," she placed the damp cloth back in its cup and headed out into the hallway. A few minutes later Elizabeth returned, clutching several books. She set them down on the edge of the bed so that Jefferson could see each of the covers.
He looked at each in turn and said bemusedly: "Peter Pan, Aladdin or Alice's adventures in Wonderland? Do you have an obsession with children's fairy tales?"
Elizabeth shrugged and smiled sheepishly, "You like them just as much as I do: now, which one?"
Jefferson didn't need to read the synopses: he knew all three stories well enough as each was in set in a realm he'd visited many times. He picked up the final book, thinking of his last trip to that bizarre place. "How about this one?"
Elizabeth nodded; taking the book, her fingers gently moved each page until she found the beginning.
"There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it-"
"Actually, I'm pretty sure the tea party was in the middle of a field," Jefferson interrupted.
Elizabeth put the book down yet again and gave him a steely glare. "Will you please stop altering the story? This is Lewis Carroll's Wonderland- not the one through your hat!"
"But he's got it all wrong," Jefferson sullenly muttered.
Shaking her head wearily, Elizabeth picked up the book to continue. But Jefferson lay restless, his bored mind filling with random questions to ask her.
"Why is your library so dusty?"
Elizabeth stared at him for a moment before managing,"Are you delirious?"
"No, though being stuck in here is driving me insane."
She laughed at that and said softly: "The library is always dusty because I'm the only one who uses it. I'm not really supposed to- I stole the key from my father after he locked the place up. I think it reminded him of our mother too much. It was her favourite place, and she liked nothing more than to read to my brothers and I," Elizabeth explained, affectionately flicking through the discarded book on her lap,"Especially these fairy tales, she loved them. But then she got too sick to read…"
"I'm sorry about your mother," Jefferson said, his comment from their argument still fresh in his memory.
"It's not your fault. There was a scarlet fever epidemic, many people died in the nearby towns. I think that's why Victor was so determined to become a doctor from a young age: and is now obsessed over resurrecting the dead. He doesn't want to lose any more of the people he loves."
They were both silent for a moment, lost in their own thoughts.
"I've never really had an ambition, aside from be the realms' greatest thief," Jefferson admitted.
"Well I've always wanted to be an author and write my own fairy tale for others to enjoy," Elizabeth said, "I've even written a few stories, but well, it's just a silly dream."
"How on earth is that silly?"
"Because I'm merely kidding myself: they'd never get published. Women hardly ever get their work published as it's not really socially acceptable. Especially not once I'm the housewife of a vampire."
"You won't be the housewife of that Count," Jefferson insisted.
She laughed at that, shaking her head, "What can you do about it Jefferson? You're not well enough to get out of bed, and the wedding is in a fortnight."
Jefferson opened his mouth to protest that actually his hot flush from earlier felt as if it had gone down, but another voice filled the silence.
"It's less than that I am afraid."
Both Elizabeth and Jefferson looked up at the sound of Victor's voice. He was stood by the door clutching an official looking document.
"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked.
Her brother did not reply, instead stepping towards them and placing the papers on the bed. Elizabeth peered to read them, suddenly snatching them and screeching furiously: "He wants to do what?"
"What?" Jefferson demanded, leaning forward to get a better look at the document.
"Move the marriage forward to the day after my birthday, rather than a week after!"
Elizabeth slammed the papers back down so Jefferson could read them, glaring up at the silent Victor who stood over them.
"How could you let him do this?"
"I had to," Victor calmly stated, "As our father is dead, and I your only living relation, apparently you have no legal guardian. In the eyes of the law you have to be married as close to your eighteenth birthday as possible. Even if I had said no on your behalf, it would have meant that the Count would receive all the money, as directed in our father's will."
"But…but what about the church, and the flowers, and surely all the invitations will have to be resent out?" Elizabeth protested.
"That doesn't matter!" Jefferson interjected, "The point is, none of us want you married to him- so sod the will. We've got to do something about it."
"It's not as simple as that. Our father's will is very specific, purely because he knew either Elizabeth or I would try stop the arrangement, and funnily enough it doesn't mention anything about what to do in the event of a portal jumper and thief becoming attracted to my sister-"
"Victor," Elizabeth interrupted in a warning tone, "Jefferson has every right to be concerned and I think that I should talk to him. Alone."
Taking the hint, Victor gathered together the papers and headed off down the hallway. His mutterings were inaudible to them, though Jefferson suspected they were related to him, and not necessarily pleasant.
"Ignore him. You're right: even if Victor won't do anything, we should do something about this wedding," Elizabeth said.
She clasped Jefferson's hands, her seething anger fading into worry as her eyes met his, desperately searching him for some kind of solution.
"I can't do anything like this," Jefferson said, and pointed down at his chest, then across to the hat. Even if he couldn't persuade Victor, he figured Elizabeth was worth a try.
"If I could use that, I could go back to my own land and use magic to create a potion and heal myself."
Elizabeth followed his gaze to the hat, though she frowned uncertainly. "But how do you get back- don't you have to jump?"
Jefferson nodded, and Elizabeth continued: "You can't jump, not with two broken ribs! No matter how much pain medicine you took, the shock of the jump would be too much. I'm not letting you."
"What do you want me to do?" Jefferson said exasperatedly, "I can't just lie here for an infinite amount of weeks waiting for my ribs to heal!"
"Is there not another way of getting magic here? I don't know if it's possible, but couldn't you use the hat to get the items you need and make the potion here?" Elizabeth suggested.
Jefferson thought for a moment, nodding slowly. "Theoretically, yes..." He murmured, thinking through each of the stages. Waving a hand in the direction of his satchel that hung beside the hat, he continued, "Can you get me the vial of fairy dust from my bag, and my hat?"
Elizabeth followed his instructions and pulled out a small bottle that glowed yellow, as well as take the hat from the peg.
"Why don't you use this?" She asked, studying the powdery dust inside before handing it over to him.
"I only really use it for kick starting the hat. Plus, I'd rather like to show you a little more magic."
Jefferson pulled off the cork and poured a small amount of the fairy dust onto the hat. Almost immediately it began to rotate, swirls of purple spilling out. As it grew larger, Jefferson closed his eyes and pictured Rumplestiltskin's potions room. He'd been in it enough times to recreate the place precisely in his mind.
Then he thought back to the day when Regina had messed up her potion, rewinding to just after Rumplestiltskin had left the pair for his business outside the castle. With each necessary item in mind, Jefferson could feel the hat's magic surging through him as the portals were created. His eyes didn't open until he had fully imagined all the items vanishing, and to his amazement, they had all appeared on the bed beside the hat.
"Wow," Elizabeth breathed, staring at the items.
"That's not even the best part," Jefferson said with a wink, taking the ogre blood and adding one of the unicorn hairs. His focus became devoted to the potion, his fingers moving with precision as he added the remaining ingredients. Eventually, the potion turned a dark purple hue and Jefferson grinned.
"One healing potion complete," He announced, holding up the bottle for Elizabeth to examine.
"I must admit, your magic is more exciting than Victor's science!" She exclaimed, staring wondrously at the potion.
"Time for it to go down the hatch," Jefferson said, placing the bottle to his lips, before adding:
"Could you make me a drink? This stuff smells disgusting, so it's only going to taste foul."
Elizabeth returned a few minutes later with two cups of tea on a tray. Jefferson took one and poured the potion into it, the steaming tea rippling in its cup. Elizabeth lifted hers and tapped it against his cup.
"A toast, to your good health," She laughed.
"And to us finding a way for you not to marry the Count!" Jefferson replied, gulping down the tea.
The freshly boiled water burnt his throat, followed by a tingling sensation that seeped into every bone. As a test, Jefferson inhaled sharply, anticipating a stab of pain, though none came. He then sat up with ease, beaming at Elizabeth.
"Even those scars have gone," She said, handing him a pocket mirror. Jefferson studied his neck to see that Elizabeth was right: the skin was completely smooth across his neck, as if any trace of the fight had vanished. He flexed his stiffened arms before sliding his legs out of the bed.
"I suppose I best get going," Jefferson announced, taking his hat in one hand.
He sat opposite Elizabeth for a second before leaning in and kissing her goodbye. It was only intended to be brief, though Jefferson found himself addicted to her touch, her cool hands tentatively exploring his bare back. Jefferson shifted his body closer to hers, his own hands resting on the back of Elizabeth's neck.
"Well that escalated quickly from a 'private conversation'," Victor announced.
Both Elizabeth and Jefferson jumped, separately rapidly. Jefferson could feel his cheeks guiltily flushing under Victor's unimpressed stare, and Elizabeth kept her head bowed, eyes fixated on the floor. Nobody spoke until Victor gave a slight cough and said:
"How are you well enough to do...that? A recovery that quickly, it simply isn't possible..."
"Magic!" Jefferson and Elizabeth replied simultaneously.
Victor rolled his eyes and sighed disapprovingly to himself, though Jefferson wasn't sure if it was because of his use of magic or them speaking in unison.
"I presume you'll want to return to your beloved enchanted forest?"
"Of course," Jefferson said, glancing over at Elizabeth before adding, "but I'll be back."
"Yes you will- this month's funds from Rumplestiltskin are due in a few days," Victor firmly said.
"Sure, and it's Elizabeth's birthday too," Jefferson continued.
He took the hat and placed it on the grey floorboards. Both Elizabeth and Victor took a step back as it enlarged. Jefferson gave a small bow, quickly winking at Elizabeth.
"Time to see if Rumple's noticed my absence," he said, before leaping into the portal.