CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
°⋆∴☽°:۵≼
i. love, everlasting !
the enchanted forest .
— A YOUNG GIRL LIES IN WAIT WITH BAITED BREATH, feeling cool metal and rough wood against her neck as she bunches up her oversized shirt and presses further against the convenient wall of barrels in an attempt to curl up and disappear into the dark shadows they cast, hiding from something beyond. Her childish naivety refused to remind her that her shirt was, in fact, a bright, vibrant, highly noticeable red, as her eyes remained tightly shut beneath wide circular glasses that were almost comically too large for her small face.
She listens to every light crash of the calm waves, every flap of sails flowing in the same wind that mussed up her chocolate brown hair, flying it into her eyes and mouth as she quietly spit out a few bothersome strands, her sounds being overpowered by every creak, and groan, and footstep thrumming through the floorboards of the magnificent ship she was huddled upon.
"I know you're here, little robin." A male voice sang over the breeze, an accent similar to her own grasping at his cautiously amused voice, taunting her as he crept about the steadily rocking ship.
The girl squished herself further into a ball, leaning heavily against her protective pile of barrels as she heard the shuffling nature of the man's search, still not opening her eyes as she made herself smaller and smaller, entirely unaware that her hiding spot had been exposed.
"Aha!" A scream ripped from the girl's lungs as she was suddenly heaved into the air and into the arms of her captor, "Gotcha."
Wrapping her arms around the man's shoulders to stabilise herself, she dissolved into giggles as her round glasses bumped haphazardly against his, "Papa! You found me."
"Ah, I'll always find you, my dear Winnifred." Her father promised with a grin, hiking up the girl in his arms as he lazily tickled her side. "There isn't a single thing in this vast world that could possibly keep me from you."
The young Winnie beamed, bright and toothy, and rosy cheeked. The innocence of childish wonder residing in her deep brown eyes, which shone a lighter, honey-golden colour in the kindness of sunlight. She had the smile of a girl that had never known heartache. Had never known fear. Had never heard the creaking, frightening sound of the soul right in the moment before it shatters irreparably into a thousand little pieces.
As unfortunate as it was for the girl, it seemed as if the world was intent on bestowing upon her these undeniably cruel experiences. Though, there is a comfort in knowing that a time could exist before the inevitably of pain. Where her love came easy, and was entirely blameless.
"Sir! Excuse me, sir!"
That was it. The first devastating wave at the beginning of a catastrophic storm. A life altering, horrifying, and relentless event, which all began with a boy making a frantic call for her father.
"Doctor." Her father corrected easily, with furrowed brows, tightening his hold on his beloved daughter as he looked over the edge of the ship and towards the dock where a panting, sweating boy was gasping for breath and gesturing behind him. "What is it, Tommy boy?"
"Your wife, sir- doctor! Sorry. We just got the news..." The boy's words tumbled quickly and clumsily from his lips, his face sullen and remorseful, looking rather upset and all too nervous for a regular old message delivery.
Her father's own expression changed, as he seemed to recognize that the situation was more grave than what should have been allowed on such a wonderfully simple day. He set his daughter down on the firm, creaking floorboards, his hands shaking as he leaned to meet her height with a forced smile, masking his racing thoughts and worse assumptions about whatever news the boy had come with.
"Why don't you run along and find your brother, little robin, I'm going to speak to Tom." He spoke steadily, and though Winnie was but a child, the very overwhelming empathy that she had been brought into this world with was both a gift and a curse in this very moment.
"Is mama okay?" She asked quietly, barely above a whisper, as she clutched her fathers hand in an almost desperate attempt to not let go. For her own scared, unknowing self, or for the comfort of her father.
Her father didn't answer, only bringing his hand away from hers and resting it on her cheek, laying a chaste kiss upon her forehead, at the very edge of her hairline, before he stood to usher her away, "Go inside, Love."
She stood quietly, watching as her father turned away from her and disembarked the ship with heavy shoulders, and a regretful stance, the smile that had been so vibrant only minutes before now a distant memory- not soon to grace his lips while a fresh stench of sorrow infiltrated the air.
Though even as a girl, she knew she should heed her father's words and warnings, she couldn't help but creep to the side of the great ship and peer over the ledge with a youthful, concerned curiosity, watching as Tom spoke quickly and quietly to her father, stumbling slightly over his words as tears began to freely flow and carve tracks into their cheeks, reddening their eyes.
Her father, collapsing in on himself as he knelt desperately on the dock, his hands shaking as he pressed them into his face, trying to stifle the oncoming wave of misfortunate heartache, let out a sob of mournful despair.
And this is the first moment little Winnifred Robin finally hears it. That sound of a soul splitting into a thousand pieces, scattering throughout the void of darkness like heavy sleet and rain, slamming into the atmosphere at an alarming pace as every aching bit resigns itself to a life of desolate separation
And it was the sound of her father's miserable, broken-hearted cries.
storybrooke maine .
— AS WINNIFRED ROBIN LEANED PEACEFULLY AGAINST THE LEDGE OF THE JOLLY ROGER, sea salt scented memories seemed to plague her mind with a frustrating insistence. She had missed this very feeling. The steady rocking of the brilliant blue waters, lapping waves, and the foamy shore. The feeling of an improbable infinity beyond the distant horizon. Freedom and forever beating against her skin like the airy breeze, mussing up her hair and pulling strands from her typical space buns, frizzing them up and tickling at her rosy cheeks.
She could vaguely remember the last time she'd been on a ship- though the recollection felt as if it were a mere echo of her thoughts. A ghostly figure of her past that didn't quite feel real.
There was only one thing she could recall with absolute certainty, and a great deal of sadness. The very last time she had set foot on a ship as wonderful as this one, had been the day she became Winnifred Robin. And despite all the hurt, and the anger- despite having stood in the smouldering ashes of her childhood, grasping and clawing to keep a hold on her kindness, it couldn't be denied that Winnifred Robin was quite a person to be.
"You alright, Love?" The voice was not yet familiar, but it was comforting in a way Winnie hadn't known in a very long time. It was the steam off a nice hot cup of tea, as if it flowed through her lungs and restored her breath, fuzzing up her brain in the reassurance of safety.
Winnie smiled slightly, easily, at his concern as she turned to the pirate and glanced at her son a few paces away, enthusing himself with the inner workings of a ship he had only ever dreamed of seeing. Instead of answering immediately, she shuffled to the side and rested one hand delicately on the siding, silently offering up the space in front of her, which Killian claimed with a stifled groan at the stretching and aching of his bruised muscles.
After a moment, where Killian patiently observed the woman before him, she finally spoke in response to his concern.
"Have you ever lost someone, Killian?" She asked quietly, allowing the pressing wind to carry her words to him.
This was the first moment he realised she had called him- had been calling him- Killian. It had been a long while since anyone had called him that and made it sound so sweet. His name. So simple. Yet, she made it sound like something he deserved. Something other than the fear or anger his usual moniker struck with people. It was nice. Different. It felt as if, in some way, she knew him. What a thing, to be perceived by someone so kind.
"Aye." He responded, after a heartbeat of observing the sadness hidden deep in her eyes. "I have."
Winnie remained silent, looking out into the ocean and distantly wondering if those murky depths held the secrets to all walks of her own life. All the things she had lost, it always came back to that big blue beast that seemed so welcoming and magnificent, and so painfully cruel.
"Do you think it ever stops hurting?" She spoke again, almost quieter now, but Killian felt as if she spoke loud and clear, directly to his heart as it began to ache far more than his broken bones.
"No." Killian stated honestly, his gaze darting about and searching for more in the woman- perhaps afraid that the truth was far too harsh for someone who seemed to have been created out of all things beautiful and lovely, "I don't think it does."
He expected a sad remark. Perhaps silence, or a frown that would surely devastate the man. Maybe anger, as he had come to expect from others- anger at him for not allowing the woman to bathe in blissful ignorance.
Killian could expect many things, but as Winnie smiled, with an enchanting sort of laugh and a glaze of tears illuminating her already sparkling eyes, he knew Winnifred Robin was far from anything he could have ever anticipated. Her dazzling grin infected him, and he returned one of his own at the sight and delightful sound of her short bout of laughter, in spite of his confusion at the response.
"That's good..." She finally whispered with a grateful nod.
"You want it to stay? All the pain? The hurting?" Killian tilted his head curiously, leaning his weight against the ledge.
"I hope it lasts forever." Winnie agreed quickly, finally meeting his eyes with an almost renewed enthusiasm. "What good is it to us if it doesn't stick around?"
"I'm not sure I understand."
To appreciate and praise the pain you're in- it was an idea Killian had never known before, and he couldn't help but find it the slightest bit mad, and all the more incredible as Winnie reached out across the siding of the ship and delicately wrapped her fingers around the wrist of his good hand, spreading comfort and warmth throughout his being, watching in disguised awe as she explained.
"I'm so burdened by grief and sadness sometimes, I often forget how wonderful it is." Winnie muttered effortlessly, "All of this love. Everlasting. I hope it never goes away."
author's note
this is a chapter brought to you by our Thankmas fundraising efforts!! y'all I cannot even. $150.00 on day one is unfathomable and unexpected I literally thought I'd have more time to prepare before you smashed that goal, but remind me not to underestimate you guys 😭😭
more chapters and more fundraising incentives are on their way, I prOmise, so keep up the amazing work <3
as for comments on this chapter specifically, I hope you enjoy some little hints towards Winnie's past 👀 lemme know what you think, and if you have any theories, bc we're getting closer and closer to some big reveals (that being said I may try and skip a bit to the neverland plot, because it'll pick up a bit more around there (; 💕)
ANYWAY I love you guys so much and I can't wait to chat with you all again, I'm hoping to be super active this December as we get more into Thankmas and everything, so stay tuned <3
thank you all for stickin around and making the season of giving such an incredible experience for us all, I really couldn't be more thankful for this little community of ours 😭💕💕