Absence and Obsession of Love

The Mysterious Woman

~Present Day~

"Henry? You're Henry right? Henry Mills...?"

A faint whisper questioned from behind me. I sat quietly by myself in a booth adjacent to the window in Grannies, and twisted my head around to get an idea of who this mysterious person was.

"Yes...And who are you?"

I had never seen this woman around Storybrooke. I could only see the side of her face, but I could already tell she was beautiful. A stunning violet eye peered over her booth at me, her vibrant lips formed a friendly smile, and her long red blonde hair was lightly curled to lay elegantly above her shoulders. Oh boy I hoped she wasn't a relative of Zelena's...

"My name is Audrey. I'd like you to help me, if that's possible"

I couldn't see her hands that were tucked away under the table, but I could hear her nervously fiddling with them. In fact there was a whole nervous feeling to her. However when she turned her body to face me, in those two purple eyes I saw hope.

"How can I help you? I can't do magic if that's what you want"

Lately for some reason people assumed I would do magic for them, and found it easier to manipulate a child than someone like my mothers. Who could blame them really. Audrey let out a soft chuckle that almost sounded angelic,

"No, no Henry not magic. I want you to use your gift, as the new Author of the storybook, to record a story that isn't in there"

It certainly wasn't what I had expected her to ask for, my head turned back to the storybook that was lying on the table next to my hot chocolate, with cinnamon of course. When I turned back to the woman, it was like she had read my mind and instantly answered the question is was asking myself, 'Why was it so important for a story to be in there, for her to come to me personally?'

"Henry, that book holds much more power than you think,"

Doubtful, I knew what it could do. I had experienced it's power. Still I listened to the young woman.

"It doesn't just record stories, it can reunite people as well. This story isn't like all the others in there,"

With this she frowned staring at the book almost disgusted at it.

"This story takes place in this world. The land without magic. If the story gets recorded in there, I'm sure it will reunite the two people in it. Everyone has a story that deserves to be told Henry. It's impossible not to. These stories run your whole life. They depict the way you think and act. They are who you are. You have a story. I have a story. Everyone has a story. Not just the characters that only used to appear when read from fairy tale storybooks. Recorded down by Authors. You know that some Authors abused their power by twisting the stories. However some used it for good. Now you too can use it for good."

Now she had moved to my booth and had her soft pasty hand resting on the story book.

"Who is this story about?"

"Two people very, very important to me. Torn about when he made a choice to protect her, only she didn't know it at the time"

Her violet eyes stared off sadly through the snowy window into the darkness of the night. Towards the silver crescent moon and surrounding sparkling stars. It sounded just like my mother and father, Emma Swan and Neal Cassidy. My parents, they were her parents. Again as if she could read my mind she gave me a reassuring nod to my thoughts.

"Of course I'll help...When do you want to start?"

"How about right now?"

A cheeky little grin appear upon her bright red lips, she propped her chin up in her hands, elbows supporting her from the table beneath her.

"But I have to be home soon, my mom is cooking lasagn-"

"Oh come on Henry, I'm sure Mayor Mills can spare you a little while longer. We can just begin the story...

It was the hope that was now blossoming in those violet eyes, the excitement that was expanding on her pale face that made it glowed that made me agree. With that I opened the storybook to a blank page, searching through my bag out came the magic pen that allowed me to work this wondrous magic. Her eyes lit up like the sun as I lowered it towards the page.

"It all began in 1899...The summer of love. In a place called, The Moulin Rouge..."

A soft tone of voice flowed from her lips, exactly as a loving mother would tell a bed time story to her child. Filled with kindness, passion and love. My hand then scribbled out those four magic words that would begin our journey together. Her story of these lovers she hoped to reunite with my help as the Author.

'Once Upon A Time...'