"Are you sure that this correct?" Elizabeth asked, glancing down at the list between her fingers. "Lightning can't be contained, surely?"
"Not in your realm perhaps," Jefferson said, slipping between the people that milled around the market on the outskirts of the city. "But here in Stormhold, where magic is far stronger, it is possible to do such things."
He scanned between the crowds and stalls until he caught sight of the alcove by the kingdom's gates. Taking hold of Elizabeth's hand, Jefferson led her down towards the edge of the stalls. As they approached the back streets of the market place, his hand shifted up to rest on Elizabeth's back, between her shoulder blades.
"Keep close to me," Jefferson murmured. Elizabeth nodded, her eyes darting around. The stone walls had grown grimmer, and the dull January sky seemed to darken overhead. The stalls were spread out farther compared to those in the centre of the market, and far fewer people wandered about.
Never losing the close proximity to which he stood beside Elizabeth, Jefferson approached the person whom was stood rather casually behind a desk. A variety of items were crammed onto the desk, each as foreign and dangerous looking as the item that it was beside.
The young man behind the desk, whom had been fiddling with one of the many peculiar devices, hastily set down the object and smirked broadly at the sight of them, "Long time, no see, Jefferson."
"Ferdy," Jefferson nodded curtly to the man, whose gaze had fallen upon Elizabeth.
"What have you got for me today: a fallen star?" Ferdy flashed a toothy grin at Elizabeth, who frowned in confusion.
"A fallen star?"
"It's just some myth from this land Elizabeth," Jefferson explained brusquely, "what we're actually here for is-"
Ferdy cut in, his face animated as he recounted the tale, "They say that once, every few centuries, a star falls from the sky and lands as a beautiful woman. Fallen stars as so rare, they'd fetch an unimaginable fortune if you were to sell one..." At this, Ferdy glanced slyly at Jefferson.
"She's not a fallen star," Jefferson said, "And even if she was, I wouldn't sell her to you. I wouldn't sell her to anybody."
Seeing Jefferson's arm wrapped around Elizabeth's shoulder, Ferdy gave a slight nod of understanding.
"So you two are together… it's alright for some," He muttered to himself sourly.
"Well let's face it; dressed like that, the only date you're going to get is with Ditchwater Sal."
Ferdy sniggered and put his hands to the lapel of his rather worn jacket with a certain sense of pride, "You'll pay for saying that. Speaking of money: down to business. What have you got for me today then?"
"Actually, I was hoping to trade. Apparently you can get hold of anything. Even something that is illegal?"
"Like lightning?" Ferdy ducked beneath the desk for a moment before reappearing with a wooden container tucked beneath one arm, "Luckily for you, I got a fresh batch this morning: top quality lightning this."
Brushing away the assortment of objects on the desk, Ferdy set down the container and drummed his fingers upon its lid before continuing, "So I couldn't take anything that wasn't worth at least 250 guineas." Seeing Jefferson's expression, he added, "I've gotta make a living, you know? And what do you want to trade anyway?"
"How about some of this?" Taking out a pouch, Jefferson pulled out a length of golden thread and presented it to Ferdy. Although he tried to look nonchalant, the dealer's eyes had lit up and he ran his fingers along the thread.
"Doesn't quite look like 250 guineas…"
Rolling his eyes, Jefferson took out the rest of the spool and snapped it in half. Ferdy greedily took the half that Jefferson handed him and tucked it away in his coat pocket.
"Pleasure doing business with you," Ferdy gave an appreciative nod and pushed the container towards them.
Jefferson slung the container's leather strap over his shoulder and turned to Elizabeth, who had been studying a black orb.
"You fancy buying that? I'll do you a good deal."
"I'm not buying anything else dodgy off you- you've already robbed us of half our wages," Jefferson said, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at Ferdy.
The dealer merely gave a shrug and pushed a stray lock of tangled hair out of his eyes.
"Well if you not buying anything, you should get back to the market centre. People might actually think your girl is a star if they see such a pretty thing around here for too long."
"Fair point," Jefferson said, thinking of the rumours that he had heard of what witches did to girls who were fallen stars, "See you around."
Keeping one arm around Elizabeth, the other over his satchel that swung against his leg, Jefferson guided Elizabeth back to the open part of the market. Once they were in the open again, the pair were absorbed into the crowd, and Jefferson's arm dropped from around Elizabeth. Her hand took hold of his, swinging their arms slightly.
"You know that was the last item? Once we've given the items we've procured to Rumplestiltskin, I'll stop being your assistant until our children are born."
"What?" Jefferson stopped in the middle of the street, much to the annoyance of the passers-by. He stared down at Elizabeth, "It's six months already?"
"Yes," Elizabeth's eyes caught his, their warmth somewhat reassuring. Squeezing his hand, she added with a teasing tone, "No need to look so worried- I'm sure you can manage without me."
"It's not that…it's just- the next time we portal jump together, for work, we'll have children," Jefferson said, the realisation hitting him, "We're going to have children in three months."
"You've had six months to come to terms with the fact that you're going to be a father, and it is still sinking in?" Elizabeth said, and Jefferson gave a slow nod.
"Well it seemed such a long way away: and now…I mean it's really happening…"
"Yes, it is," Gently placing a hand on his arm, Elizabeth led Jefferson towards the nearest stall so that they were no longer obstructing the villagers. A variety of flowers were set out along the table that was set up before a yellow horse drawn caravan.
"These flowers are beautiful," Elizabeth murmured, her fingers brushing the petals of a cluster of bluebells.
"They're picked fresh from the meadows by the Wall."
Elizabeth glanced up at the voice. A woman had got up from her seat on the steps of the caravan and approached the table. The blue folds of her dress parted as she walked to reveal a string of pearls wrapped tightly around her ankle. She reached the table, the string pulled taut, though she cast them a small smile.
"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation, and I know that having a child can be a rather daunting prospect," She gave a soft sigh, her fingers toying with the stalk of a bluebell, "I had a son, but the witch that enslaved me wouldn't let me keep him. So I sent him to his father, over in Wall. He'd be about ten now."
"I'm so sorry," Elizabeth said sympathetically, "You must miss your son so much: I'm sure that he misses you too."
"How can you miss something that you've never had?" The woman muttered. Seeing the despondent look upon Elizabeth's face, she continued, "I don't mean to sound so bitter. But you've got nothing to worry about; you won't have to give your child up."
At the sound of approaching footsteps from the other side of the caravan, she raised her voice slightly, "So you'd like a bunch of snowdrops?"
Before Elizabeth could reply, the slave girl pressed the flowers into her gloved hand and whispered lowly to them, "Do you have any coins as payment?"
"No, only this," Jefferson handed her a length of the golden thread, but she gave an accepting nod and took the thread.
"Now go, before the witch sees you," She gave Jefferson a rather pointed look, "You've tricked her once and you only just managed to escape before she could turn you into an animal."
"Ditchwater Sal. I remember," Muttered Jefferson, "and I'd rather not see her again."
Casting a glance at Elizabeth, he followed her back into the passers-by that strolled along the street. Ditchwater Sal's loud voice was audible over the crowd, and Jefferson caught the words lightning and thief. Pressing a hand to Elizabeth's back, he urged her on through the crowds. They soon reached the gates of the Stormhold capital and found themselves back out in the meadows.
Relaxing slightly as the noise of the market faded away, Jefferson followed Elizabeth down the track amongst the tall grass that was speckled with snowdrops and frost. As they walked, Elizabeth remained silent, the blackbirds chirping overhead being the only noise across the otherwise still meadow.
"What's wrong?" Jefferson asked as he fell into step beside Elizabeth.
She didn't look up at him, her gaze focused down on the snowdrops that she clutched in the palm of her hand.
"Nothing, I'm thinking, that's all. About how sad it is that the son of the girl selling flowers can't really miss her, because he's never known her." Elizabeth exhaled deeply, "You never met your birth parents: have you ever missed them?"
"Well, not really," Jefferson said, "but when I see you and Victor together, I do feel a longing to have had family as a child. Not that it matters, because our children won't have to feel that way."
"They won't ever be alone," Elizabeth agreed, her sombre tone brightening slightly.
"Race you to the wall?" Jefferson suggested, and Elizabeth laughed.
"Go on then!" She began to run towards the stone wall that had appeared from behind the wavering grass, Jefferson darting ahead.
He reached the wall first, the roofs of houses from the village on the other side of the wall now visible. But when Jefferson hurtled through the gap, he vanished. Elizabeth soon caught up with him, and when she reached the gap, she too was transported back the hat's hallway.
Catching her breath, Elizabeth rested a hand on her abdomen for a moment.
"It probably is a good thing that I'm stopping portal jumping for the time being, I can't exactly run as fast as I used to," Elizabeth said, her features flushed from the cold.
"Perhaps that race was a little unfair, even if I did win," Jefferson pressed a kiss to her cool forehead before taking hold of her hands and leading Elizabeth across the hall to the carved wooden door of the Enchanted forest.
The woodland that they arrived in felt colder than the capital of Stormhold had, and Jefferson tugged up the collar of his coat. They had been brought out by the lake, its frozen waters glittering in the weak sunshine from the pale sun.
Feeling the smooth silk against his skin as Elizabeth slipped her hand into his, Jefferson wandered with her down the bank of the lake. As the water began to twist away in the direction of Regina's castle, Jefferson helped Elizabeth climb up the ridge and back onto the woodland path. He had brought them out close to the Dark one's residence, and they soon reached the colossal castle.
Inside, it was as dark as night. The dense curtains were drawn tight, though the room seemed to be lit by some kind of ethereal glow, making the glass cabinets and potions door along the far wall visible. Rays of light streamed out from a crack between the door and floor, Rumplestiltskin and Regina's voices drifting out. Going around the dining table, Jefferson pushed open the potions door.
Regina's angered words were cut short as the door creaked, and Rumplestiltskin's head whipped around to see who had interrupted. His irritated features relaxed at the sight of Jefferson, Elizabeth in tow. Noting the container of lightning that Jefferson was carrying, the imp gave an approving nod.
"You got hold of the lightning I see."
"I have my sources," Jefferson withdrew the strap from across his body and set down the container on the bench. His eyes flitted up to where Regina was stood, her arms folded.
"We weren't interrupting were we?" He asked.
Regina parted her crimson lips to reply, though Rumplestiltskin interjected, "No, not at all. Now, the others items that I asked for?"
Jefferson took out the remaining objects from his satchel. Once they were all presented upon the bench, Rumplestiltskin snapped his fingers and a spool of golden thread appeared which he handed to Jefferson.
"I'll be reducing your wages as of tomorrow, what with Elizabeth no longer assisting you."
"No longer assisting?" Regina finally spoke up, her voice feigning curiosity.
"Just until I've given birth," Elizabeth said, her gaze flickering momentarily to Rumplestiltskin, "As we agreed when I first found out that I was pregnant."
"I see," Regina's lips were set into a hard line, her angered expression from when they had stepped in having faded into an unreadable expression.
Sensing that they most definitely had interrupted something, Jefferson stuffed the golden thread into his satchel. "I'll see you tomorrow then."
With a nod to Rumplestiltskin, he found his arm had settled around Elizabeth shoulders. He steered her towards the door, though once it was closed behind them, he couldn't help but linger. The argument between Regina and her mentor was now in low, inaudible tones.
"Don't you know that it's rude to eavesdrop?" Elizabeth whispered, taking hold of his hand in an attempt to pull him away.
"It's all part of the job."
She shook her head at that and sharply tugged at his arm, forcing Jefferson's legs to jolt forward like a limp ragdoll. The voices were growing a little more distinct, along with footsteps. But when Regina and Rumplestiltskin stepped into the main hall, the doors of the castle were swinging back together.
The Enchanted forest's winters were monotonously frigid, the iciness of the air still sharp despite being three weeks past Christmas. Spring seemed to be a distant dream. The only murmurs of life were their footsteps upon crackling twigs and the occasional noise of a deer traipsing through the evergreen holly. Few plants grew such a harsh season, though Jefferson had to push apart branches of the thriving coniferous bushes that flanked the edge of the woods.
Helping Elizabeth through the overgrown bushes, they walked side by side through the village. A few stray chickens wandered around, their beaks pecking fruitlessly at the solidified mud track for any remnants of corn. The soon reached the gradual incline of a hill that led to their house, their feet following the path of flattened grass. Jefferson reached the house first and collected a few of the logs that were on the porch before unlocking the door. He shrugged off his coat, Elizabeth following him inside and closing the door.
"I'll just go and put these flowers in a vase," Elizabeth said, having hung up her own coat.
"Meet me in the lounge, I was thinking of getting the fire going."
Holding the logs in his arms, Jefferson eased the lounge door open with his foot as Elizabeth went into the kitchen. With so little sunlight reaching the room, the lounge felt colder than ever. Kneeling down before the stove, Jefferson opened the small door and set a few of the logs down onto the ash covered base. Focusing his attention on the topmost log, he watched as a small purple spark ignited the wood, rapidly changing into an orange glow as the flames spread. Jefferson swung the stove door shut, the sound of footsteps padded across the lounge behind him just audible over the crackling of the logs.
"You can put these in if you want," Elizabeth said, handing him down a pile of papers.
Jefferson took the sheets from her, his eyes scanning across the lengths of deep blue ink that formed words in Elizabeth's swirling handwriting. "This is your writing; I can't put it on the fire."
"It's no good," Elizabeth said, "but it will help keep the fire going."
"Why isn't it any good?" Jefferson flicked through the pages to find the beginning and cleared his throat as if to begin reading.
Elizabeth snatched the papers back out his hands, clutching them to her chest. "You're not reading it! I told you, what I've written is no good."
"I'm sure it's better than you think," Jefferson reasoned, "Can't you read it to me instead, so you can have a second opinion on whether your writing should be burnt?"
Elizabeth cheeks flushed slightly in the glow of the fire as she replied, "I hate other people reading or hearing what I've written: it always sounds foolish and pretentious aloud."
"Please?" Rising from his knelt position, Jefferson looked down at Elizabeth, whose eyes were locked on the papers. "Not even a tiny bit?"
"Alright," Elizabeth sorted through the papers, a smile flickering as she read, "Once upon a time."
"That's it? There's far more than that written on those pages!"
"You said a tiny bit. That was a tiny bit."
"I can't make my mind up based on four words. Can't you at least read me a full sentence?"
Elizabeth gave a vehement shake of her head. "I want to keep it a surprise, so that the first time you read the story, it's to our children." She gave Jefferson a few of the sheets. "You can put these on the fire, they're just rough notes."
He crouched down once more and carefully pulled back the door of the stove. Bright flashes sparked between the burning logs, and he quickly tossed the sheets in. Elizabeth had sat down beside him, her legs crossed. They both watched as the flames licked at the creamy paper before hungrily devouring every last word.
"I'm guessing by the fact by the beginning and that you're writing a children's book, your story is going to be a fairy-tale?" Jefferson asked, turning his head to look at her, the warmth from the growing flames radiating onto his skin.
"You know they're my favourites," Elizabeth replied, shifting closer to him so that she could rest her head upon his shoulder. Her dark eyes reflected the glow of the fiery flames that danced inside the stove. Elizabeth gave a contented sigh that whispered against his neck. "Because as cliché as it sounds: you know that they'll always have a happy ending."
Apologies for not updating in a while, been quite busy as of late/ have had a fatal mix of writers block and procrastination. However, there aren't that many chapters left of this story and what with my mocks rapidly approaching, I'm hoping to complete this story by Christmas. I just had to write about Stormhold from Stardust, because it's one of my favourite films! ^o^