The Princess and The Hatter

Chapter Eleven

Once Upon a Time in the Enchanted Forest. . . . .

. . . .  JEFFERSON'S POV. . . .

Jefferson runs through the woods, seemingly trying to escape from something. He stops to rest by a tree, a little out of breath, when suddenly he's caught by a ten year old Grace. 

"Papa, I found you" She says delighted, Jefferson looking down at her proudly. 

"You certainly did. You must be part bloodhound, my dear Grace." He gets down to her level. They're both wearing bright, colourful but plain clothing, his old life behind him, his long hair unruly with gorgeous curls. 

"Now it's my turn to hide, and you seek." Grace says eagerly. 

"I'm afraid playtime's over." Jefferson tells his daughter, to both their disappointment. "Though, you can still use that nose of yours to hunt mushrooms. Enough to sell at market tomorrow." He puts a positive spin on it "Just like you mother used to, do you think you can do that?" Grace nods gleefully, she enjoyed these moments with her father. "Ready or not, here we come." Hand in hand the father daughter duo begin to walk back to the house, but stop short just enough a distance away when they spot the Evil Queen's carriage parked outside.

"Wait." Pauses, making sure his daughter goes no further. 

"Whose carriage is that?" Grace asks, seeing a mix of fear and anger in his eyes as he looks at the carriage. 

"The Queen's." He says plainly. 

"In our house? Do you know her?" Grace is not sure if she too should be amazed or terrified. 

"Of course not!" Jefferson lies briskly "Now, listen carefully." He once again crouches to her level, Grace is visible worried about her Papa. "Hey. I want you to stay hidden in the woods. Like our game. I'm going to find out what she's doing here." Grace nods, she had sensed her fathers distain for the queen, and had always wondered if perhaps her father knew her better than he let on. Once Grace was safely hidden, Jefferson made his way to the hose. Inside, the Evil Queen is waiting, already having made herself at home. He stands in the kitchen arms folded, visible unhappy. 

"I'd like to say you're looking well, Jefferson, but I'd be lying. Poverty doesn't suit you." She looks around the place and at him "I cannot believe my sister chose to live in this hovel." 

"She created it, she was proud of it." Jefferson tries not to snap "What are you doing here, Regina?" 

"I have a job for you." She says in her dark slow drawl. 

"I don't do that anymore." He continues his front. 

 "Yes, I heard you hung up your hat." Regina pretends to be sympathetic  "Why? Is it because of your sweet daughter Grace?" She coos.

"Because of my work, she lost her mother. I don't want her to lose her father, too." Regina looks away, a devilish look on her face before looking back at Jefferson. 

"So, now you're foraging for fungus." Regina says distastefully. "What kind of future does your daughter, my niece my I remind you, have here with you?" She implores  "Do this one last favour for me, and you can give her the life she deserves, my sister would have wanted her to have the very best, you must know this?" 

"That's why I'm staying. You don't abandon family." He says emotionally "I couldn't even leave her to retrieve her mother . . . I-" he swallows "Y/N would have wanted her to be happy, healthy and safe, with me. . .  That's... What she deserves." He tries to compose himself "Now, please leave." He opens the door to encourage her out.