chapter One

In the quiet depths of Storybrooke's woods, Meira was practicing some of her magic, which she always was since she wanted to get more control over it. One day, as the sun dipped below the horizon and shadows stretched across the familiar landscape, Meira's world shifted in a way she could never have foreseen. The air crackled with an unfamiliar energy, and in the blink of an eye, she was no longer beneath the Storybrooke sky. Instead, she lay amidst the ancient trees of the Enchanted Forest – not in the present, but in the past

Meira let out a small groan as she slowly pushed herself to sit up, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. A surge of disorientation swept over her as she tried to grasp where she was. As Meira rose to her feet, brushing the dirt off her jeans with a frown. Determination etched on her face, she began to walk, guided more by curiosity than a clear sense of direction, weaving through the dense foliage in search of answers and an escape from this enchanted forest.

As she ventured deeper, she marveled at the vibrant hues of the flowers and how beautiful the enchanted forest seemed but took her time walking, taking in the scenery. That was when she soon found herself on the outskirts of the forest, a wave of relief washing over her as the trees gave way to a quaint village. The cool breeze hinted at the changing weather, and Meira couldn't help but notice the shift in surroundings. As she looked around, the village unfolded before her, its rustic charm contrasting with the ambiance of the Enchanted Forest. However, the growing chill in the air served as a stark reminder that she was ill-prepared for the unfamiliar world she now found herself in. Meira took a moment to assess her situation, pondering her next steps.

Feeling the chill deepen, Meira's gaze landed on a cottage adorned with a clothesline. Suspended from it were garments that seemed to belong to another time. A decision made in haste, she reached for the nearest set of clothes, exchanging her modern attire for the garments of the past. The transformation was both practical and symbolic, as she sought to blend in. Now wearing a simple yet sturdy blouse, paired with a high-waisted skirt that allows for easy movement, a corset cinches her waist, To complete the look, she found a worn but serviceable pair of leather boots suitable for navigating the rough terrain and cobbled streets of the village. As she wandered further into the village, the winding paths led her to a bustling dock, where ships adorned with tattered sails bobbed in the harbor.

To her surprise, a familiar figure emerged from the crowd – a pirate whose eyes held a glint of mischief and adventure. It was then that Meira, still adjusting to her newfound appearance, came face to face with a version of her father, Hook. "Dad!" she exclaimed, the word escaping her lips louder than intended. A wince of realization followed, settling into her thoughts like a heavy anchor. This wasn't the person she knew; she was thrust back in time, surrounded by echoes of the past, and the man before her was the pirate he once was.

As Meira grappled with the unexpected reality of encountering her father in his pirate persona, the bustling activities of the dock continued around them. The scent of salt air mixed with the distant melodies of sailors and merchants going about their business. Hook, the seasoned pirate, regarded Meira with a curious gleam in his eyes. "Dad?" Meira spoke again, this time softer, her gaze searching his face for any sign that he might understand the connection she felt.

Hook, his expression puzzled, replied gruffly, "I think you might be confusing me with someone else, lassie. What brings you to this part of the world, looking like you've seen a ghost?" The air seemed to thicken with unspoken questions as father and daughter stood at a temporal crossroads, their worlds colliding in a way neither could fully comprehend. The Enchanted Forest's past held mysteries that extended beyond the pages of any storybook, and Meira was now an unexpected chapter in its unfolding tale.

Meira blinked, realizing the pirate didn't have any idea who she was or that they were related. "I... must have gotten you mixed up with someone else," she lied, the words slipping from her lips with a practiced uncertainty. She hoped the lie sounded convincing, masking the turmoil within her.

Hook, still eyeing Meira with a raised eyebrow, seemed to accept her explanation with a nod. "Well, you're not the first to mistake me for another scallywag in this port," he said, his attention momentarily drawn away by a commotion further down the dock.

Seizing the opportunity, Meira decided to gather more information without revealing her true identity. "What's happening here?" she asked, feigning casual interest while subtly scanning her surroundings. The dock buzzed with activity, and the unfolding events held secrets that Meira was determined to uncover, even if it meant maintaining a delicate web of deception.

Hook's eyes narrowed slightly as he shared a brief account of the events unfolding on the dock—a shipment of goods, a heated dispute between rival sailors, and rumors of a hidden treasure. Meira absorbed the information, her mind racing with possibilities as she considered how this slice of the past might connect to her journey.

A shiver traced down Meira's spine as she watched the mysterious figure vanish amidst the bustling activities of the dock. The cryptic words lingered in the air, and she couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter held significance. With Hook engrossed in his tales of the sea, Meira decided to follow the stranger discreetly.

As she weaved through the crowd, the hooded figure remained elusive, expertly navigating the labyrinth of the dock. Meira's senses heightened. As Meira followed the hooded figure through the dock, the atmosphere shifted. The air grew thick with an unspoken energy, and the surroundings transformed into a maze of hidden alleys and forgotten corners. The cloaked stranger moved with an uncanny grace, seemingly aware of Meira's pursuit.

In a concealed alcove, shielded from prying eyes, the figure finally turned to meet Meira's gaze. The hood fell back, unveiling a face marked by the passage of time and veiled in secrecy. "You hail from a realm beyond this time, dearie," the stranger murmured, their eyes gleaming with the wisdom of ages.

Meira hesitated slightly, biting her bottom lip, before straightening up and speaking, attempting to keep her voice calm. "How do you know I'm not from around here?" she demanded. "Who are you?" The weight of realization hadn't quite settled upon her, but a spark of curiosity ignited in her eyes.

The figure gave off a laugh that sent another chill up her spine. "It is obvious you are not from around here. As for who I am..." The figure seemed to grin, stepping closer. At that moment, Meira got a better look at him, her heart pounding in her chest. His features held a peculiar familiarity, a resemblance that sparked recognition.

"Rumplestiltskin," Meira whispered, the name escaping her lips so softly that she wasn't even sure if he heard. Yet, when she met his gaze, she knew he had. The air seemed to thicken with the weight of the revelation. Rumplestiltskin's grin widened.

"You do know who I am, dearie," the Dark One said, his voice carrying the weight of ages. He observed Meira stepping backward, attempting to distance herself, her gaze searching for an escape into the street. Meira, caught in the clash of memories, knew who he was. Of course, she did. In Storybrooke, she encountered a different version of him—a man who walked with a cane, owned a shop, and carried the weight of a complex history.

Meira, well aware of the Dark One's penchant for deals and tricks, had no intention of getting entangled in his web of manipulation. She didn't care if he knew her secrets or if questions lingered unanswered; her only desire was to distance herself from the impending danger of a dark bargain. Without another word, Meira turned and ran into the crowd, only to quite literally collide with a group of pirates who loomed unexpectedly in her path.

Meira gulped, taking a cautious step back. "Sorry," she murmured, her attempt at bravery veiling the uncertainty beneath. Her family's encouragement echoed in her mind, and she knew she possessed magic, but the extent of her control remained uncertain in this situation. The pirates eyed her with a mix of curiosity and suspicion, the air charged with an unspoken tension that hung between the potential for chaos.

As the pirates continued to scrutinize Meira, a sudden commotion erupted from the crowd. Shouts and clashes of steel echoed through the dock, drawing attention away from her. Seizing the opportunity, Meira attempted to slip away, but her path was intercepted by a particularly menacing figure among the pirates.

Just as the situation grew dire, a familiar voice cut through the chaos. "Let the lass be!" The authoritative tone belonged to none other than Captain Hook, who had caught wind of the altercation. With a flash of his hook, he deftly swung into action, engaging the menacing pirate in a duel. The clashing of blades between the two created a distraction, allowing Meira to navigate the crowd and evade the threat. She stumbled back, glancing in Hook's direction with a mix of gratitude.

Around the corner, Meira found a moment of respite. She took in a deep breath, attempting to calm her nerves, only to discover her hands trembling faintly. A subtle glow emanated from them, a manifestation of the magic coursing within. Closing her hands into fists, Meira fought to steady herself. She couldn't afford to let fear take hold—her magic teetered on the edge of control, and the last thing she wanted was to reveal her abilities to those around her.

As Meira found herself growing calmer, she relaxed against the back of a building, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. The sounds of the dock surrounded her, and in the tranquility, she heard approaching footsteps. Turning to face the source, her eyes widened in recognition as Hook emerged from the shadows, walking over with a determined yet curious expression.

Meira hesitated, placing her hands at her sides. "Thank you," she said softly, her eyes studying the pirate. The moments of uncertainty and danger seemed to dissolve as gratitude and curiosity danced in her gaze. In that fleeting connection, Meira wondered how much of Hook's story mirrored the version she knew from Storybrooke.

Hook gave a nod, noting that she didn't seem hurt. "Those others act tough, but they aren't much of fighters," he said with a one-shouldered shrug. "But it might be best to get off the docks for a while till it clears up." His eyes lingered on the girl. "Are you hungry?" The offer held a touch of genuine concern, which was something he didn't often show.

Meira contemplated Hook's words, a mixture of gratitude and wariness in her gaze. The enchanting aroma of the nearby village's culinary offerings beckoned, tempting her senses. She nodded in response, realizing that navigating this unfamiliar past required alliances, even with the likes of a pirate.

"Food sounds good," she admitted, a small smile playing on her lips. Together, they ventured away from the docks and into the heart of the village. The scent of stews and fresh bread wafted from a tavern nestled among the cobblestone streets. Hook motioned for her to go in first, and Meira entered the tavern. She found a table near the back, tucked into the corner, where the flickering candlelight created a cozy haven.

As they enjoyed the stew and fresh bread, Meira couldn't help but steal glances at the pirate across from her. How different he seemed from the man she knew back in town as her father. Between the two versions of Hook, one is a swashbuckling figure in the past and the other is a familiar face from Storybrooke.

Hook raised an eyebrow, now seeming amused as he leaned forward slightly. His elbows found a resting place on the table, and his fingers absentmindedly traced over his hook, a distinctive feature that spoke of the countless tales etched into the lines of his past. A silent understanding lingered between them, the unspoken acknowledgment that the figure before Meira was more than just a pirate; he was a complex character shaped by the currents of time, magic, and a myriad of untold stories.

"Who are you?" Killian Jones, most called Hook, questioned, his eyes landing on Meira once again. "Lassie, you looked like you had seen a ghost back there, and you called me 'dad,' so who are you?" He asked, his eyes full of caution now. The tavern's ambient sounds seemed to hush, creating a moment where the past and present converged, demanding answers to the questions that lingered in the air.

Meira had been tearing off pieces of her bread, pushing them into her mouth not realizing how hungry she truly had been when she stared at the pirate, hearing his question. A moment of silence passed as she pondered how to respond, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on her contemplative expression.

"I..." she started, her gaze shifting between her plate and Hook. "I'm from another time, another place. I know you, but not like this," she admitted, the words carrying a weight of both uncertainty and revelation. "In my world, you're different. More... human."

Hook studied her, a skeptical furrow in his brow like he wasn't sure if she was telling the truth or playing some type of joke on him. The air in the tavern seemed to thicken with tension.

"Another time, another place?" he repeated, his voice edged with a mix of curiosity and caution. "How is that even possible?" The skepticism in his eyes demanded an explanation.

Meira hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features as she met Hook's gaze. "I know it sounds unbelievable," she admitted, her voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "But in my world, Storybrooke, you're different. You're my father, and we live in a town filled with characters from fairy tales. There's magic, curses, and, well, complicated family dynamics." She paused, searching Hook's eyes for any sign of understanding or recognition.

Hook's expression shifted from skepticism to a blend of disbelief and contemplation. "Magic, curses, and complicated family dynamics, you say?" he repeated, a cynical laugh escaping him. The tavern's ambiance enveloped them, the echoes of untold tales resonating in the air.

Meira shoved the rest of the bread into her mouth, a nervous gesture as she waited to see his reaction. Swallowing, she met his eyes. "Do... you believe me?" she asked slowly, the question hanging in the air like a delicate spell, awaiting Hook's response amid the tavern.

Hook's laughter faded into silence, his eyes searching Meira's face for sincerity. The glow of the tavern's candlelight played on the contours of his features, revealing the complexities that history and magic had etched into his persona.

"I've encountered my fair share of magic, lass," he finally spoke, his tone more contemplative. "But tales of different worlds and a town filled with fairy-tale characters... that's a stretch even for someone like me." A subtle skepticism lingered in his gaze, yet there was a flicker, a hint that perhaps he was not entirely dismissive of the improbable tale Meira had spun.

Meira nodded, understanding the incredulity mirrored in Hook's gaze. "I wouldn't have believed it either if I hadn't lived it," she admitted, her eyes reflecting a mix of earnestness. "It's a world where stories collide, and the lines between reality and fantasy blur. But here we are, in a different time, a different place." Meira said, trying to get him to believe or understand what she was saying.

Hook leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest, observing Meira as she dug into her stew. "And when you mentioned I seemed more... human, what's that supposed to mean?" he asked, the skepticism in his voice mingling with a genuine curiosity.

Meira paused, her spoon mid-air, as she considered how to articulate the distinction. "In Storybrooke, you're different. You're not the pirate with a hook for a hand. You're Killian Jones; you still have a hook, a man who wears more modern leather clothes, and has left his more nefarious past behind," she explained, her gaze meeting Hook's. "It's like you're living two lives, one in a fairy-tale town and another as a regular person. The contrast is... jarring, to say the least." The words hung in the air, carrying the weight of the dual identities that Hook seemed to inhabit across the realms.

Hook absorbed Meira's words, a pensive expression crossing his features. The flickering candlelight seemed to dance on the contours of his face as he contemplated the duality she described. "Two lives, you say?" he mused, his gaze distant as if retracing the steps of his journey. "A pirate in one, and more of a man in another." The realization lingered in the air, a subtle acknowledgment of the complexities that fate and magic had woven into his existence.

Meira nodded some. "You also are married to someone... have two daughters and a stepson," she added, though she wasn't sure if she was revealing too much or not. The delicate balance between sharing the intricacies of Storybrooke and preserving the mysteries of Hook's past.

Hook's eyes widened in surprise at Meira's revelation. The information about a life that seemed to belong to another version of him echoed in the tavern's quiet ambiance. "Married, daughters, and a stepson?" he muttered, a mixture of disbelief and intrigue in his voice.

As Hook processed the newfound details, a silence settled between them. Meira observed the play of emotions on his face, wondering how her revelations about a family he didn't know about would impact the pirate she knew from Storybrooke. Breaking the silence, Hook's gaze shifted from Meira to the flickering candlelight, lost in thought.

Meira watched with wide eyes, hopeful that maybe he was coming around to at least believing her, and that perhaps she could find some assistance in returning to her own time and family. Still uncertain if she had revealed too much, she couldn't retract her words. "I am not fully sure how I got here," she lied, Meira knew it had something to do with her practicing her magic to gain more control, but she wasn't ready to share that detail. "But I would like to get back to my home, to my family," she said softly, the sincerity in her voice underscoring the urgency of her predicament. Meira laid her cards on the table, uncertain of how Hook would respond to the plea woven into the tapestry of their unexpected encounter.

Hook's gaze shifted from the candlelight to Meira, lingering on the vulnerability in her eyes. The weight of her words hung in the air. After a thoughtful pause, he sighed a reluctant understanding softening his expression.

"I don't know how much help I can be," Hook admitted, a trace of sympathy in his voice. "But if there's a way to send you back, I reckon it starts with figuring out how you ended up here in the first place." The pirate told her.

Meira felt a glimmer of hope as Hook expressed a willingness to help, even if tinged with uncertainty. "Thank you," she whispered, gratitude.

Hook emitted a small sigh but refrained from commenting. Instead, he rose from his seat. "Come on then, we shall get going. It's getting dark, and you need a place to stay."

Together, Hook and Meira exited the tavern, stepping into the cool embrace of the Enchanted Forest's evening. Hook led the way, his familiar figure cutting through the dimming light.

As they walked, Meira couldn't shake the feeling of being in a dream—one where the lines between reality and fantasy blurred with every step. Yet, the determination to find her way home anchored her.

As Meira followed the pirate, her eyes scanned the surroundings, wide with curiosity as she took in everything around her. However, her observations came to an abrupt halt when she felt herself being pushed into an alley. Despite catching herself, she couldn't help but glare at the male. "Why'd you do that?" she demanded, only to have him put a finger to his lips—a signal urging her to be silent.

Meira complied with his signal, falling silent. Confusion etched her features as the sound of footsteps running reached her ears, accompanied by the unmistakable noise of a carriage and horses. Hesitating, she slowly moved to peer around the corner, revealing a black carriage coming to a stop.

The scene unfolded before Meira's eyes like a page from a storybook. Hooded figures emerged from the shadows, surrounding the black carriage. Their conversations and the creaking of the carriage door echoed through the dim alley. Instinctively, Meira pressed herself against the wall, trying to remain hidden while her curiosity heightened. Hook, standing beside her, maintained a watchful gaze on the unfolding events.

Meira glanced up at Hook, noting that his gaze remained fixated on the carriage. "Who is it?" she whispered, aware that the distance between them and the unfolding scene made it unlikely for anyone to hear, but she felt compelled to speak softly.

Hook's eyes narrowed slightly, his focus still locked on the scene. "Dangerous folk, no doubt," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "Best stay out of their way." The dim glow of lanterns cast an eerie light on the figures. Meira, torn between her curiosity and a growing sense of caution, kept her gaze fixed on it.

That was when Meira saw the carriage door open, and out stepped a female in a red and black dress, a guard helping her down the carriage steps. Meira felt her breath catch, realizing it was the Evil Queen. In her town, she had grown to be different, and even though she hadn't seen Regina as she was when she had been the Evil Queen, Meira knew all about her and how cruel she was.