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Rosie Briar has nightmares. Almost every night sometimes. She doesn't know why, it's not as though anything bad ever happens in Storybrooke – or anything at all, much.

They plague her though, these nightmares. A red room, filled with flames. She has a couple of counselling sessions with Mr Hopper but it doesn't feel as though she's getting anywhere, so he suggests something a little more practical.

Fencing lessons are the last thing Rosie wants, but she doesn't want to make Mr Hopper feel bad, so she goes to the first one, just to see.

The instructor is very serious, and Rosie is a little intimidated. Even the invitation to 'please, call me Maggie,' seems stilted and formal. But Rosie gives it her best shot, clutching the sword so tight her fingers tingle.

'Not so hard,' says Maggie. 'It won't turn around and bite you. Here, like this – may I?'

And, at Rosie's uncertain nod, she leans forward and corrects her grip, loosening her fingers around the hilt. She comes around behind her to put her own hand on the grip beside Rosie's, and moves their arms together to demonstrate how it ought to flow. And suddenly Rosie feels a little different, a little less afraid.

She goes to every lesson. While Maggie is teaching her she forgets about the nightmares. It seems as though the heart she has lost has come back to her. And she's not sure whether it was the fencing or Maggie that did it.