#I do have an idea about where Charming is/ when Regina put herself under a sleeping curse etc but you can speculate as well :)

[shireness-says]

Birthday fic recs: @welllpthisishappening

It was @welllpthisishappening​‘s birthday yesterday! Laura is consistently one of my favorite authors, and a dear friend to boot. So, for her birthday, I’d like to recommend some of her deep-cut, hidden gem fics - favorites of mine I think everyone should be reading all the time. Go read them and check out her seriously impressive fic page. The organization is downright inspiring.

Thank you for your friendship and your fics and your willingness to listen to me have a conniption about not-your-hockey-team, darling - I hope the next year gives you all the joy that you deserve!

Start Spreading the News

Emma Swan is just looking for something that’s hers. She’s fairly certain she’s found it in New York, with a group of friends and a good job and picture frames on her apartment walls. But then the past she’s spent so long trying to ignore shows up where she least expects to find it – wearing pinstripes in right field at Yankee Stadium.

More Famous Than A Yankee Can

He knows it’s not a dream. He’s had this dream before. Finding her again and talking to her again and wearing pinstripes. They usually aren’t all the same dream. So this has to be real. But the last place Killian Jones ever expected to see Emma Swan was while he was wearing those pinstripes. With her standing on the bleachers in Yankee Stadium.

I’ve read these fics three times this year. Maybe four. I love it every time - there’s romantic type miracles and pining and fate and I can’t resist it. It’s everything you need to cheer yourself up in these weird stressful times. Every time I read one these, I immediately have to go tell Laura that it’s So Good because I just can’t resist. That good.

What Used to Be Limes

Killian Jones is ready for his rookie season in the NHL. He's got a hell of a shot. An almost acceptable amount of confidence. And a roommate he doesn't want to check. Plus, his best friend. Who he's hopelessly in love with.

A Rooting Interest

Emma's only doing Ruby a favor. And playing bartender is kind of funy — especially when the guy in front of her keeps smiling and looking up how to make drinks. She doesn't want to make a fool of herself. That seems inevitable, though. Once he leaves the tip. Two tickets to a hockey game. And the good-looking guy from the bar turns out to be the star of the New York Rangers.

Look, obviously Laura has proved she’s the master of hockey fics with her Blue Line stuff. But! These are a great pair of hockey fics not from that ‘verse. Disaster rookies! Emma who doesn’t know a thing about hockey! Flirting galore! If you haven’t read these already - you need to get on that right away. And then join me in my quest to remind Laura that if she ever has hockey feelings that don’t fit into Blue Line, she could totally add on to these ‘verses and no one would complain. Or at least I wouldn’t.

Feeling As Good As Love

Emma is excited about this weekend. It's always good — this thing they do, with the house and the ocean and the friendship that seems to stand the test of time. But now, there's an added bonus. Because this year she and Killian aren't just coming to the house on the beach with that friendship moniker hanging over them. They're coming as a couple. A real couple. That kisses. Regularly. And Emma's excited about that too. She just didn't expect her friends not to believe her.

I am, admittedly, biased, because I all but demanded that Laura write this. But that’s only because it’s so up her alley, as demonstrated by the masterpiece that ensued. The banter! The cliches list! Emma’s righteous (and warranted) anger! It’s everything the prompt demanded and more than I could have imagined. Perfect.

In Case of Emergency, Call...

Killian Jones does several things on Thanksgiving: breaks his ankle, meets a very loud redhead in the ER, tells his best friend he loves her. None of them were part of his plan. The plan only involved cookies.

This is a little bit of an odd one - because Emma’s not even there for half the fic. But her presence and her absence and her impact is just so palpable. That pining, man! I live for that pining. The best kind of friends-to-lovers, with plenty of Killian and Ariel banter and a little dose of fake married because why not. What else could you ask for?

Gone the Way of the Dinosaurs

Emma doesn't entirely understand the town of Storybrooke. It is, apparently, the kind of place with story time at the library and spring festivals on Friday night and unfairly attractive people with blue eyes who know all the words to the dinosaur song her kid is also inexplicably singing. She doesn't understand the town of Storybrooke yet, but maybe Emma is willing to do a little research.

I love librarian!Killian. I love tiny!Henry. Put them together? I’m a sucker for it. It reads so believably, both for Emma and for Storybrooke. And I think Laura might have been channeling her own shoe collection, which I find so charming. And you can learn about dinosaurs! And what names they have! Read it in the name of paleontology. 

Wrap Around Your Dreams

Emma Swan is not a very good witch. She’s emotional and prone to immediate reactions and neither one of those things are currently helping her when the body count in Storybrooke is on the rise. And there’s far too much blood at each crime scene and far too much magic and Emma has no idea where to look next. So she does the almost human thing; she starts making a list. Of clues and ideas and the absolute desperate hope that the killer isn’t what she’s certain it absolutely has to be. The last thing she expects is for the notebook to start writing back.

This is a perfect Halloween-type fic. I love epistolary fics and pen pal fics, but I’ve never seen anything like this before or since. The idea of them reaching out across all kinds of magical barriers because fate just gets me, man. Plus, the suspense is absolutely palpable. And the ending! Perfect. Another of my regular rereads. 

All Was Golden In The Sky

Magic is dying. Emma knows it. She can feel it, the emptiness rattling around in her, like it’s trying to make sure she disappears as well. What she doesn’t know is what to do about it, because, suddenly, there is a man in Storybrooke claiming she’s the Savior and a seeress certain a prophecy promises the same and the last thing she expects is for her minimal amount of lingering power to pull her away. To New York City. And another oddly familiar man with blue eyes and a smile that sinks under her skin and makes magic bloom in the air around her. Things are about to get interesting.

I was just enthralled the whole time this was posting. There were so many twists and turns, but everything still weaves together absolutely perfectly. Plus, canon has been adapted so well in this. I don’t even know how to start describing this fic - but trust me, you’ve got to read it. 

Out Of The Frying Pan

Emma Swan is only doing this for one reason, well, make that two. To get her show's numbers back up and, maybe, impress her son. She doesn't like admitting to that second one though. Killian Jones is doing this for absolutely, positively, just one reason. To expand his restaurant. And maybe get Regina off his back. So that's kind of two reasons. Neither one of them is doing a year-long Food Network all-star competition because they're celebrity chefs and there's not really any other choice. Of course not. And neither one of them is enjoying it because they maybe, kind of, sort of enjoy each other. That would be insane.

Ok, this one may not be that overlooked as much as it’s my FAVORITE THING ON THE PLANET. This is a perfect fic. Every time she posts another sequel one-/two-shot, my heart sings. It’s so good. The way Laura paints this competition, and lets everything grow over the course of weeks and month, is perfect - plus, there’s all the romance and Captain Cobra feels you could ever want. If you haven’t read this yet - Get On It Today.

Check out her fics on Tumblr and Ao3, and make sure to give her and them lots of love!

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

stephanie perkins: ‘anna and the french kiss’

SPOILERS AHEAD!

Then again, if you’ve read any YA book, ever, it’s fairly obvious what’s going to happen.

I was going to go easy on this book; I really was. It’s really unfair how media aimed at a female demographic is seen as frivolous and vapid, and more often than not bashed and bullied when it comes to reviews. “People actually enjoy this crap?” ask the powers that be. “It’s worthless! Pulp! Dreamy-eyed nonsense only complete nimrods could ever like!”

And I take offense to that. There’s nothing wrong with liking romance or happy endings or stories about cute European boys. I was ecstatic when I stumbled across Anna and the French Kiss upon a chance trip to the bookstore. The cover was… meh (Century Gothic? Really? There were no other fonts?). But I’d heard nothing but praise about the book, and I was prepared to stay up all night and into the wee hours of the morning to finish it.

Admittedly, I was far from impressed upon the first reading. The characters were unlikable, the plot would’ve worked better for less shitty characters, honestly fuck these characters am I supposed to like them, fuck Anna, fuck Étienne, fuck Bridgette, fuck Toph, fuck Dave and Meredith and Amanda and Seany and every other stupid character in this stupid book.

The second time around, I expected to not hate it as much as I did when I first read it. It’s happened- I hated Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda when I first read it, and when I read it again, all that red-hot anger simmered down into an overall dislike. I thought To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before was trash at first, and then I read it again, and it got promoted to recyclable waste matter.

I found Anna and the French Kiss horrendous the first time I read it, and then I read it again, and… yeah, it’s still pretty awful.

Le Sommaire:

Anna Oliphant is a seventeen-year-old wannabe film critic who is #NotLikeOtherGirls – so she’s exactly like every other female YA lead. To her credit, she never explicitly says she’s special… everyone around her does.

She has a pretty meh life in Atlanta, Georgia with her mum and little bruv Sean- and then her dad decides to ship her off to France for her final year of high school. I’m not judging Anna for bawling her eyes out on her first day; I’m a huge mummy’s girl myself and I’d probably (definitely) do the same.

Meredith is Anna’s next-door neighbor, who does that thing which only happens in YA where she’s like “Oh, newbie? Let’s be friends!” (Or maybe it does happen irl and I tend to make a bad first impression which is why no one has ever approached me.)

Meredith’s friends are: Rashmi and Josh (who are a couple), and Étienne St. Clair. Guess which one is the love interest.

Étienne is cultured in that white person way where he’s half American, one quarter French and one quarter British. A true international.

But- *gasp*- American-British-French boy has a girlfriend, Ellie.

Anna has an absolutely gorgeous punk rocker (yum) boy with sideburns (yikes) back home named Christopher. Also, Christopher’s nickname is ‘Toph’ instead of ‘Chris’ because he too is #NotLikeOtherGirls. Anna tells us that nothing will happen between her and Étienne.

Anna is wrong.

Meredith has a crush on Étienne. So does the Regina George of the school, Amanda.

Étienne and Anna have some moments ™.

♫ Everyone else in the room can see it, everyone else but Anna ♫

I tear my hair out in frustration.

Several other white boys vie for Anna’s heart. Anna remains blissfully unaware (♫ that’s what makes you beautiful ♫). Étienne (who is still dating Ellie, mind you) is unreasonably agitated by this.

Étienne’s mum has cancer btw, which excuses all the shitty things he does, because he’s just a poor, misunderstood boy.

Ellie dresses up as a, quote unquote, ‘slutty nurse’ for Hallowe’en, though- so it’s perfectly okay to dislike her (even though, in the first interaction she had with Anna, where Ellie meets Anna and Étienne, after Étienne takes Anna to the movies, Ellie is perfectly sweet).

Anna, however, is NOT a slut. Amanda is, though. And Rashmi’s cold. And Meredith’s desperate. And Emily’s a slut, too. And her friend Bridgette from Atlanta is a traitor. Anna has an intense case of internalized misogyny.

Anna’s friend Bridgette from Atlanta is screwing Toph, and Anna throws a fit.

Étienne and Anna have some more moments ™.

A truly chaotic series of events befall Anna. She somehow winds up dating Dave (one from the harem of white boys who likes her) to spite Étienne, she gets into a fight with Amanda, more drama ensues, there’s a hint for a spinoff, Étienne and her kiss, Meredith sees and feels betrayed… several misunderstandings and more bullshit later, Étienne and Anna wind up together, because true love conquers all.

Mes Réflexions:

(If the French is off, blame Google Translate.)

Usually, it takes me half a page of my notebook to scribble down my thoughts about the book I’m reading. This motherfucker took me almost an entire page.

Granted, a solid 30% of those notes are me throwing insults at Étienne, but still. ‘STOP STOP STOP YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND YOU DICK’ counts, right?

(That was #17 in my notes, by the way.)

For the record, I like Stephanie Perkins’s writing. It’s not as over-the-top and unnecessarily introspective as Jenny Han’s in To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, and the interactions between Anna and her classmates were natural and not the “How do you do, fellow kids?” style of Becky Albertalli’s Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda. The pacing is decent- I didn’t feel like it was too rushed; not the insta-love trope most YA romances unfortunately fall prey to.

And yet. AND YET.

Anna: “What’s your problem?” Amanda: “You.”

Same, Amanda, same.

Anna Oliphant is one of my least favorite leads in a book, ever. Étienne’s even shittier. And it’s not like Nick or Amy Dunne from Gone Girl, or any of the main characters from The Secret History, where readers pretty much unanimously hate them. You’re meant to relate to Anna, you’re meant to find Étienne charming and dreamy. I literally had to put the book away and calm myself down several times- especially in the last quarter of the book.

One of my main gripes with Anna is how… dumb she is. I guess Anna’s “Oopsies, silly me, I don’t know French!” is meant to be relatable to the readers. And some parts (like her not knowing how to order food because she can’t speak French) are plausible, but- sis, you didn’t know how to spell oui? And my idea of a cinematic masterpiece is Kung-Fu Panda, but even a dumbass like me knows that France is the film appreciation capital of the world. And yet Anna, a self-professed film freak, doesn’t?

Of course, Anna’s gorgeous, but she has no clue, because of course she doesn’t- even though she has multiple guys falling head over heels for her.

I’m in a short skirt. It’s the first time I’ve worn one here, but my birthday seems like the appropriate occasion. “Woo, Anna!” Rashmi fake-adjusts her glasses. “Why do you hide those things?”

Étienne is staring at my legs. The scales covering them throb under his intense gaze, and the pincers sticking out of my thighs start clicking rapidly in arousal. My hooves shiver in ecstasy.

… sorry, that’s not funny.

Her friends think Anna’s weird for wanting to write film reviews (which is the most contrived thing I’ve ever heard) instead of being the next Margot Robbie or whatever, but of course Étienne doesn’t and he thinks it’s not weird and cool and that Anna is such a special snowflake.

(Man, I sound like Amanda.)

And then we have this spiel by Anna about how she got into film critiquing (?), because we the readers need to know how special and #NotLikeOtherGirls Anna is.

To this, I say, “Piss off, you pretentious fuck.”

Of course, Anna’s a virgin and she’s never gotten drunk before or worn short skirts- she’s not a slut, she shaves below the knees only.

And would YA really be YA without several hearty helpings of internalized misogyny?

First up, we have the bimbo; the Barbie doll archetype whose only goal in life is acquiring the main guy (who is quite obviously uninterested in her), and making life hell for our protagonist. Amanda Whatsername (is she ever given a surname?) has this coveted role in Anna and the French Kiss. She’s blond (because of course she is); the first time we meet her, she’s in a, quote unquote, ‘teeny tank top’, and she also ‘positions herself for maximum cleavage exposure’. She’s always flipping her hair, getting her grubby paws on Étienne, giving Anna the stink-eye, being homophobic and a grade-A bitch.

Meredith goes batshit when Anna and Étienne kiss, and is very pouty and unhappy during prior Anna x Shittiene moments. Honey… he’s just not that into you. Rashmi’s the Ice Queen reincarnate and halfway to bitchdom. Anna doesn’t go as hard on them as she does on literally every other female her age in the book, though.

Rashmi looks at me for the first time, calculating whether or not I might fall in love with her own boyfriend.

Anna, hate to break it to you, but not everyone’s a possessive fucking weirdo.

About Cherrie, her ex-boyfriend Matt’s new girlfriend:

And maybe Cherrie isn’t as bad as I remember. Except she is. She totally is. After only five minutes in her company, I cannot fathom how Bridge stands sitting with her at lunch every day.

Her lifeless laugh is one of her lesser attributes. What does Matt see in her?

Even Bridgette, Anna’s best friend from Atlanta, isn’t immune to Anna’s anti-female propaganda. She’s screwing the guy Anna used to like, and Anna, the hypocrite, throws a huge fit.

For context: Bridgette and Toph are in a band called the Penny Dreadfuls (why is it with YA books and horrible band names? ‘Emoji’ from Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda was bad enough), and Anna + Matt + Cherrie go to a bowling alley to see them perform. After the performance, Toph announces that he’s sleeping with Bridge, and Anna confronts Bridge… onstage.

“… You’re welcome to move in when I leave again, because that’s what you want, right? My life?”

She shakes with fury. “Go to hell.”

“Take my life. You can have it. Just watch out for the part where my BEST FRIEND SCREWS ME OVER!” I knock over a cymbal stand, and the brass hits the stage with an earsplitting crash that reverberates through the bowling alley. Matt calls my name. Has he been calling it this entire time? He grabs my arm and leads me around the electrical cords and plugs and onto the floor and away, away, away.

Everyone in the bowling alley is staring at me.

I duck my head so my hair covers my face. I’m crying. This would have never happened if I hadn’t given Toph her number. All of those late-night practices and… he said they’ve had sex! What if they’ve had it at my house? Does he come over when she’s watching Seany? Do they go in the bedroom?

I’m going to be sick.

Give me a goddamn break.

Anna, about Ellie:

To my amazement, Ellie breaks into an ear-to-ear smile. Oddly enough, it’s this moment I realize that despite her husky voice and Parisian attire, she’s sort of… plain. But friendly-looking.

That still doesn’t mean I like her.

“Anna! From Atlanta, right? Where’d you guys go?”

She knows who I am? St. Clair describes our evening while I contemplate this strange development. Did he tell her about me? Or was it Meredith? I hope it was him, but even if it was, it’s not like he said anything she found threatening. She doesn’t seem alarmed that I’ve spent the last three hours in the company of her very attractive boyfriend. Alone.

[about Ellie’s Hallowe’en costume] Slutty nurse. I don’t believe it. Tiny white button-up dress, red crosses across the nipples. Cleavage city.

If I didn’t like Ellie before, it’s nothing compared to how I feel now. It doesn’t matter that I can count how many times we’ve met on one hand.

I fantasize about their break-up. How he could hurt her, and she could hurt him, and all of the ways I could hurt her back. I want to grab her Parisian-styled hair and yank it so hard it rips from her skull. I want to sink my claws into her eyeballs and scrape.

It turns out I am not a nice person.

YOU DON’T FUCKING SAY.

Emily Middlestone bends over to pick up a dropped eraser, and Mike Reynard leers at her breasts. Gross. Too bad for him she’s interested in his best friend, Dave. The eraser drop was deliberate, but Dave is oblivious.

One of the juniors, a girl with dark hair and tight jeans, stretches in a move designed to show off her belly button ring to Paul/Pete. Oh, please.

And I’m meant to like this character? I’m supposed to root for her?

I’m not saying every girl in the book should be perfectly sweet and friendly- that’s just not realistic. But when Anna has something judgmental to say about every other young female character… maybe she’s the problem.

In fact, the only girl I recall getting a pass is Isla Whatsername. And why do you think?

Brilliant.

And now we have the amalgamation of almost every fanfic boyfriend trope from 2014, Étienne St. Clair. Brown-eyed Harry Styles. I can’t fucking wait.

Étienne could’ve discovered the cure for cancer, or abolished poverty, or volunteered at animal shelters in his spare time. He could’ve been the most virtuous guy around (fret not; he decidedly isn’t). And I still wouldn’t’ve thought of him as the man of my dreams because HE HAS A BLOODY GIRLFRIEND.

I mean, which girl doesn’t want her boyfriend to say:

“I cheated on her every day. In my mind, I thought of you in ways I shouldn’t have, again and again.”

Fuckin’ smooth, bro.

“No matter what a terrible boyfriend I was, I wouldn’t actually cheat on her. But I thought you’d know.”

Such a gentleman!

“So you can keep dating Ellie, but I can’t even talk to Dave?”

Étienne looks shamed. He stares at his boots. “I’m sorry.”

I don’t even know what to do with his apology.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. And this time, he’s looking at me. Begging me. “And I know it’s not fair to ask you, but I need more time. To sort things out.”

And this gem:

“If you liked me so much, why didn’t you break up with her?”

“I’ve been confused. I’ve been so stupid.”

*me, banging pots and pans together* F U C K Y O U

“Ellie’s not like you, Anna; she’s a slut and a whore even though I’m the one who’s been thinking about another girl inappropriately and I’m the one who gets my knickers in a twist when another man glances in your direction because my masculinity is extremely fragile and I’m a total hypocrite and a dickhead.”

I mean, he didn’t actually say that, but that’s the gist.

WHILE DATING ELLIE: he gets Anna a book of sexual love poems, he calls her attractive (“Any bloke with a working prick would be insane not to like you.”) multiple times, he gets jealous whenever another guy so much as breathes in Anna’s direction and constantly interrupts such interactions, he’s been ditching his friends for his girlfriend but suddenly decides he prefers a new girl over said girlfriend, he thinks bread pudding tastes good- in conclusion, he is a Massive Fucking Prick. Though in hindsight, him and Anna deserve each other. They’re awful.

I had loads more notes taken down (Anna using Dave; “The important thing is this: Dave is available. St. Clair is not.”); the implication that cheating is okay because Ellie is bad or whatever, even though the sudden change in her character seems contrived because she was perfectly okay with Étienne and Anna hanging out before; how my blood boils whenever I read an American book and American girls are like “oOoOh AcCenT!!!1!!1!!”; me reading “DAVE SAYS YER A SLUTBAG” in Hagrid’s voice; the sheer atrocity of the name ‘Étienne St. Clair’ (sounds like a caricature of a French person)… but this ‘review’ is already pushing 3k and I can’t be fucked to expand on any of those points.

Verdict (which is apparently the same in French):

Who needs Christopher when Étienne St. Clair is in the world?

Speak for yourself.

[soulmate-friend]

My Hopes Went Up In Smoke.

It was the perfect distraction, setting the car on firing to throw Regina off track, she wouldn’t suspect the demise of the animal shelter at first. Setting the car on fire was just fun and games, to test Regina’s loyalty to them. But of course no matter her loyalist or how trustworthy she may seem to them, they knew, they knew she cared too much for the redhead, and the redhead probably knew too much of their plans. So the animal shelter was the perfect target for their message. 

Regina drove to the crime scene of the burning car, of course the Charming clan would be there, no matter how hung over she felt she knew how to keep her cool even though her head was bounding with a raging migraine. 

“I’m sorry.....” she said quietly, if she talked in a normal tone her head felt like it was going to explode and it was written all over her face. no matter how “put together she looked” in terms of clothing and makeup, you could tell how drained she really felt. “This was their idea of fun.” 

“Seriously? Setting a car on fire?” Emma asked with annoyance laced in her tone. Regina shrugged “I had to play along, believe me this was NOT my idea of....fun,” Regina shot back. 

“I’m just worried.....how long can you keep this up Regina?” Emma was sincere in the question, she was worried about Regina and how long she could up this villain façade, because that was just it. Regina was no longer a villain, she was a hero. Emma had a hunch that , Cruella, Maleficent and Ursula knew that, they were just testing Regina’s limits. As long as Regina kept up her little game the people she loved were safe. Henry, Abigail, they would be safe......Abigail didn’t like this, Regina playing undercover with these three especially with Cruella involved she couldn’t trust them as far as she could throw them. And she hated to say it even Maleficent. Abigail and Mal did always have an understanding, she even became fond of the dragon at one time, but right now she knew Maleficent was desperate. And desperate people can do dangerous and hurtful things. 

......

There it was, the place that was meant to protect these mongrels'? It disgusted Cruella. A smirk fell on her face the moment they stepped out of her car to investigate the building. It seemed empty enough, the annoying little brat didn’t seem to be working at this time perfect timing, they had no means to kill the brat, no that wasn’t what they were for. Cruella rolled her eyes as she felt Maleficent hesitate. “Well...get on with darling, we don’t have all day,” she huffed. 

Maleficent side eyed. the woman in fur as she stared at the shelter, the redhead was harmless, she knew this much. She was sweet, albeit a tad bit annoying at times, but Maleficent knew this would crush Abigail, she poured her heart and soul into place, into protecting these animals, they relied on her. This didn’t feel right. Maleficent swallowed a lump in her throat she was actually feeling....guilty?

“Must we do this? Is the shelter really that important?” she asked, nearly forgetting herself, wishing she could take the question back. this was pathetic, her caring for a mortal? She should want to do this, a message for the Charmings, to get her daughter back. That was the only thing she cared about. Abigail should be the last thing on her mind. 

“Awww has Maleficent grown feelings for the redheaded little snippet?” Ursula cooed mockingly. 

“She’s my friend.....” Maleficent barely whispered. The only person she would dare call a friend. Even before Regina, Abigail would never betray Maleficent the way Regina has, the way she herself is about to betray Abigail. 

“Then maybe you should go ahead and join the band of heroes if you care so much. And us as we get our happy endings while yours hangs in the balance.........” Cruella taunted in her ear. Maleficent stared hard at the shelter and swallowed one more time before willing a fire ball in her palm. It was nothing personal........it her was life. 

........

Ashes, the smell of smoke, ashes flying and twirling in the air. Hopes and dreams, crushed, demolished betrayed. They relied on her they were her everything, besides Henry. Everyday she put her heart and soul in this place, in the animals that lived here, that felt comforted, protected. All of it, it was all gone, gone up in flames, because someone decided to give people a chance. Abigail was no fool, despite what some may think. She knew who did this. She knew who was responsible for the death of her animals. She didn’t even hear the cars pull up behind her as she stood, blankly in front of the burnt building. Her name being called sounded like muffles, as if she were underwater. That’s what she felt like now, as if she were being pulled under water, not able to shake the pressure. 

Abigail!  

Regina.....it was her fault.......she betrayed you. She let those monsters in town. If it weren’t for her your animals would still be here. 

Abigail....!

Please go away.......

Abigail......

Abby...

“Meow......” one squeak was not lost on her. Her mind slowly came back to focus, her head turned to the sound. A small terrified kitten, hiding and shaking behind the still standing door frame. Without a second thought Abigail rushed to the terrified kitten, not caring if something could fall on top of her and crush her. “Meow!” Abigail followed the sound in the burnt building. 

“Abigail! Abigail what are you doing?!” Regina shouted from her car and rushed after the redhead. Regina stopped when she saw Abigail bend down and pick up the tiny animal. She winced at the sight as her heart ached for her best friend. Regina vowed that the next time she saw Cruella she would rip her heart out and crush it without hesitation. Or give it to Abigail so she could do it her self. but Regina sighed and shook her head, that wasn’t Abigail.....she wouldn’t sucome to revenge, her sweet kind, caring Abigail. So full of love, hope, she always gave others the benefit of a doubt, sometimes to a fault and that’s when Regina was afraid Abigail’s heart would get stomped on. 

Abigail came out of the burnt building, some parts were still standing, but everything was black, charcoal. The kitten in Abigail’s arms meowed again, and looked up at her, as if she knew she were safe in this human’s arms. the kitten was dirty, covered in black soot. Abigail wrapped the shaking kitten into her sweater and stood back in front of the shelter once more, to truly look at the damage, as if to will it away. as if to go back in time when it was still here. 

Abigail swallowed a lump in her throat, a lone tear fell from her eye on her cheek. She didn’t care what Regina said, she was bringing this kitten home and keeping her. This kitten looked at her with so much hope as did Abigail, perhaps that what they were to each other......perhaps that’s why this one kitten survived. “Hope....” she whispered to the kitten. “That’s what you are.....my Hope.” 

Regina waked up behind her friend and gently placed her hand on her shoulder so as not to startle her. “Abigail.....” she whispered, what could she say? Abigail’s life just went up in smoke. “I am.......there’s nothing I could say to make things better,” she tried 

“Then don’t....” Abigail hissed harshly, turning to Regina, her eyes red with tears, letting all of them flow. Regina let out a small gasp at the sight of her friend. She looked angry, she had every right to be.....but at her? “You brought them here...you invited them in,” she said angrily with no flinching or stuttering, holding on tightly to Hope. 

“Abigail...I was just. I was trying to give them a chance......like you did for me. I thought they wanted to change. I had no idea they would this....I swear to you,” Regina vowed, her voice laced with venom, but towards Abigail, no all this was towards the monsters who did this. 

“No but you played into their games! You were a pawn in all this....and you led them here, you led them here Regina so fix it. Until then.........I can’t trust you,” she whispered, not believing the words she was uttering. A part of her wanted to see the hurt on Regina’s face, the hurt in her eyes. she wanted someone to feel her pain. Oh she wanted them to feel it sure. But she wanted Regina to know she wasn’t off the hook. Abigail scuffed and started walking away. The Charmings stood behind Regina stunned at Abigail’s reaction towards Regina. 

“Abigail!?” she called out with hurt and confusing in her voice. “Don’t follow me!” Abigail called over her shoulder as she opened the passenger side to the car and safely placed Hope on the seat next to her and went to the drivers side, buckled herself up and drove. She didn’t know where she was driving but anywhere was better then here. 

[themattress]

OUAT AND ME: SEASON 4

Story - The story for the first half of the season is the Frozen Saga and the story for the second half is the Operation Mongoose Saga. The Frozen Saga is about Elsa from Arendelle crossing over into Storybrooke in search of her sister Anna, bonding with Emma in the process and helping her face another Snow Queen who has a secret connection to both of them, while the Operation Mongoose Saga is about heroes and villains alike searching for the elusive author of Henry's storybook so that he can give them their happy endings.

The Frozen Saga is noteworthy for being the last time that OUAT was big in the mainstream, due to the ubiquitous nature of the Disney phenomenon it was capitalizing on not even a year after its release in theaters. And despite the initial apprehension of many, it's actually the Frozen elements that are the strongest part of this story. The flashbacks tell an interconnecting tale serving as the backstory of the present-day events much like the flashbacks of the Dark Curse Saga did, making excellent use of both Frozen and OUAT's established mythology. And the present-day story is all about the unexpected yet perfectly natural bond between Emma and Elsa, and it's honestly one of the strongest depicted friendships the show has ever had. The way the two of them are further linked through the Big Bad is also ingenious, bringing about a great feeling of cohesion to the narrative.

In fact, rewatching this arc after Frozen 2, it's kind of funny how I actually prefer it as a sequel to the original movie than the actual sequel! Like Frozen 2, this arc deals with why Elsa and Anna's parents left on their fateful voyage, the discovery of a secret from their mother's side of the family, a revelation of what the source of Elsa's power is, Elsa making peace with herself while Anna learns to be more independent and ends up marrying Kristoff, and a location called the Enchanted Forest. But it does so in a way that feels more true to the characters from the original film and avoids all of the pratfalls that Frozen 2 stumbled into. There's no over-its-head political message, no sisterly separation ending, and no Olaf.

Unfortunately, there are two subplots that put a damper on things. The first subplot starts off well enough, with Rumpelstiltskin returning to his former villainous glory as he sneaks and schemes and manipulates his way through a plan to obtain the power of the Sorcerer's Hat of Fantasia fame, but it sadly fails to stick the landing in a way that matches the build-up and there end up being no lingering consequences to it when there really should have been. The second subplot is horrendous, focusing on the increasingly skeevy romance between Regina and Robin Hood while also pushing Regina forward on a ridiculous quest to find the Author of Henry's storybook. Why? She believes some cosmic rule is preventing her from having a happy ending  because she was written as a villain in the book (and not because, y'know, she was actually a villain in the past), and if she's rewritten as a hero she thinks that will change. Yes, that is the absurd idea that this whole subplot is founded upon, and the fact that everyone goes along with it as if there is an ounce of logic behind it is cringe-inducing.

Sadly, that subplot ends up becoming the plot of the Operation Mongoose Saga, which on the one hand gives Season 4 more connection between its two arcs than Season 3 had, but on the other hand it's so fucking stupid. Now, whenever it's Rumple leading around his villainous team, "the Queens of Darkness", to find the Author before the heroes can, things are fun and watchable in spite of the plot's stupidity. But whenever it's Regina and Robin's continued relationship angst or a horrendous new subplot about Snow and Charming having secretly been villains in the past by causing Maleficent to lose her child, it's tiresome and insulting. The finale, a two-parter actually named "Operation Mongoose", is highly enjoyable, but it can't fully wash away the taste of what came before it....or what it sets up to come after it.

Characters - Heroes and villains everywhere, and not always where you expect.

* Remember how in Season 3, Emma had a great character arc in the Neverland Saga but then it came to a halt in the Wicked Saga until the two-part season finale finally picked it up and resolved it? And that the Wicked Saga did her dirty by building her up as the only one who could defeat Zelena only for Regina to defeat her instead? Season 4 does kind of a repeating of these problems, except this time around they are a lot more glaring.

For most of the Frozen Saga, Emma has a great arc that's essentially her and Elsa's shared journey toward self-love; learning from each other to accept themselves and their innate powers without having to always rely on the approval of a loved one. But then, after a huge broo-ha-ha is made about how Emma must be the one to defeat the Snow Queen....she doesn't, and Anna barges in to help the Snow Queen see the error of her ways before Emma can lift a finger. She isn't even the one to save her own boyfriend from Rumple afterward, Belle does it instead. It makes Emma look like the definition of a Boring Failure Heroine.

And things don't improve for her in the Operation Mongoose Saga. Her roles are being subservient to Regina in spite of the abuse Regina had thrown her way in the previous arc, being unreasonably angry at her parents for keeping a secret from her, being vilified for daring to kill a heinous villain in defense of her son, going back and forth between being a friend or an enemy to her "dark half" Lily, and being hyped as the key to restoring reality to the way it was in the season finale...only for Regina, yet again, to end up taking that role away from her. I think it was Disney's insistence that Emma be tied to Elsa and have that arc in the Frozen Saga, because Adam and Eddy clearly couldn't care less about her.  

* Snow and Charming....SIGH. In the Frozen Saga, Snow is the new mayor of Storybrooke...until the Operation Mongoose Saga, where she suddenly isn't anymore and Regina takes up the mantle again. Through both arcs, Snow reaches new levels of bad motherhood toward Emma while continuing to coddle Regina, which is not touching, it's creepy. Charming, meanwhile, is revealed to have been a long-haired coward during his shepherd days and owes his bravery and swordsman skills to Anna, which neuters just about any coolness he ever had. And then, of course, there's the egg-napping subplot from the Operation Mongoose Saga, where Snow and Charming are revealed to have stolen the egg containing Maleficent's baby, transferred Emma's darkness into it while Emma was still in Snow's womb, and then sent it away in a portal. All because of some nebulous prophesizing and interference from Isaac. And this revelation means, according to the show, that they were villains all along and thus all this time have been pious hypocrites who just do things the easy way rather than the right way. Doesn't Regina look so much better in comparison to them now? Because that's clearly the intent behind this fucking writing decision. Character assassination at its finest.

* Henry sucks, Henry sucks, Henry.....doesn't suck? Yes, for most of the season Henry is lamer than he's ever been, still being treated like a precocious kid character even though Jared Gilmore has clearly entered puberty. But then he ends up as the leading character of the season finale, and shockingly rises to the occasion. It concludes with him becoming the new Author, and this marks a turning point in Henry's character that has been a long time coming, which I will go more into detail about when I talk about the next two seasons.

* This is the season where Regina officially crossed the line into Mary Sue territory. She decides that Marian's reappearance means that she is being punished for being a villain...not because she actually was a villain, but because some Author dared to write her as a villain in a storybook, and that he needs to rewrite her into a hero so that she can get the happy ending that she's entitled to. And in true Mary Sue fashion, she warps the plot and characters around her so that nobody objects to this idea and instead whole-heartedly embrace it.

Every good guy in Storybrooke fights to help Regina get her happy ending, constantly repeating that she "deserves it" and has "come so far" even as she continues to act in ways contradicting that notion. In the end, she doesn't even need the Author since she gets Robin Hood back, gets the adulation of being a "Light Savior" who restores reality back to normal, and has Emma sacrifice herself to the Dark One curse in order to save Regina and her "hard-earned" happy ending. I think the scene that best displays the problem is in the flashback of the episode "Mother", where we see Regina in the past remorselessly murder a groom on his wedding day for no good reason, then immediately go cry over Daniel's grave since this is the anniversary of his death, and then we cut to present-day Regina mention how life always "kicks her in the teeth". Yeah, I kinda think life kicked that groom in the teeth WAY more. So where the Hell is the Author who's gonna give his poor widowed bride her happy ending?

* Rumple, for the most part, is great in this season. In the Frozen Saga, we see him going back to his Dark Curse Saga roots as he plays the role of the true villainous mastermind behind the female Big Bad, dealing and manipulating his way toward one single objective - in this case being to use the power of the Sorcerer's Hat to "cleave" himself from the Dark One dagger. And in the Operation Mongoose Saga, he steps up as the direct Big Bad who leads a team of other villains in pursuit of the Author, under the promise that he can give them their happy endings. It helps that Robert Carlyle is clearly enjoying himself; that fun is infectious.

Unfortunately, there is a problem: Rumple fails to stick the landing in his last three episodes of both arcs. In the Frozen Saga, his failure to absorb Emma into the Sorcerer's Hat seems to drive him bonkers because he then rips out Hook's heart, relying solely on commanding him to do his dirty work all while ranting and raving repetitively about how when the stars in the sky and the stars in the hat are aligned, he will cleave himself of the dagger and he will kill Hook to do so, and that Hook better enjoy so-and-so because it'll be his last and blah blah blah. It's boring and silly, and Rumple's arrogance as he keeps saying it just makes his failure that much more pathetic. And in the Operation Mongoose Saga, his suddenly revealed heart condition ends up taking its toll on him and he is ultimately unable to mount a final assault against the heroes on his own, requiring the far less impressive Isaac to do so instead. The "Light One" version of him that Isaac overwrites him with manages to put up a fight, but that's not nearly as good. Rumple as the Big Bad should have gone out with a bang, not a whimper.

* Hook remains one of the best characters in the ensemble, forced to reconcile his pirate past with his heroic present in both the Frozen Saga and the Operation Mongoose Saga. In the former, his fears of regressing allow Rumple to manipulate him into servitude, which Hook ends up fighting against until Rumple rips out his heart. In the latter, he contends with the way in which he'd wronged Ursula in the past, and with the help of Ariel (whom he also finally does right by), he is able to rectify his mistake and grant Ursula her true happy ending. I'm not really a big fan of his new modern leather jacket, though. The pirate coat was iconic!

* Following such a good Season 3 performance, Belle looks like she's on track to become even better at the end of the Frozen Saga when she finally sees Rumple for who he is and dumps his ass all the way across the town line. It was a powerful scene with some great lines from Belle, and by all logic it should have been the end of her and Rumple as a romantic pairing. They needed to be done after that, with Belle now being free to develop her character entirely apart from Rumple. But of course, Adam and Eddy would never allow that, so all she does in the Operation Mongoose Saga is date a man she doesn't actually love to soothe her heartbreak, fall passed out on the floor, have her heart stolen by Regina and then have it recovered by Rumple which causes her to inevitably crawl back to him at the end of the finale. As the next seasons will show, this damaged Belle's character beyond repair, turning her into the very Stockholm Syndrome-afflicted abuse victim that stupid detractors of the Disney version always claimed she was. This isn't a love story anymore. It's a horror story.

* Robin Hood is a regular for this season in all but title, being present for many episodes in the Frozen Saga and even getting his own focus episode in the Operation Mongoose Saga. If there was any chance of salvaging this horrendously misused character, it died the moment it showed that he still desired a relationship with Regina even after learning that she was the one who killed Marian, which would have stuck if not for Emma and Hook's time travel adventure. I'm sorry, who does that!? That is not realistic human behavior! And it only gets worse when he ends up deliberately and vocally throwing away his honor code by cheating on Marian with Regina while Marian is frozen solid and could possibly die! Oh, but Marian ends up being Zelena anyway, so all's cool. No! All's not cool! Why did this show make Robin Hood into such a lame character!? It's especially a disservice to Sean Maguire, who's a smooth and funny guy in real life and the Robin Hood he plays utilizes none of his charm.

* And then we have the regular in title only, Robin's former associate Will Scarlet, carried over from Once Upon a Time in Wonderland. Of all the screwed-over regulars the show has had, none can compare with Will Scarlet. He does little of interest in the Frozen Saga except for enticing viewers with various mysteries about who he is, why he's here and what's he up to...and those mysteries get absolutely no pay-off in the Operation Mongoose Saga, where he barely shows up and when he does is mainly just Belle's new boyfriend (whom she scarcely interacts with directly!) so that Rumple can get jealous and more determined to find the Author. In the end, Will Scarlet is a nuisance who has fuck-all to do with anything that's going on in the season, leaving viewers scratching their heads as to why he was included to begin with. I can't believe that in his last speaking appearance, the show actually has him deliver the line "I warn ya, I'm scrappy", to which Rumple replies "All right, Scrappy." It's funny because Scrappy, in the TV Tropes usage of the word, perfectly describes Will here.

So, what went wrong? Well, originally the Wonderland spin-off was meant to take place during Season 2 of the main show, with the originally filmed pilot making this explicit. So Will in Season 4 was to be the Will we have after the Wonderland Saga's conclusion, meaning somehow he'd gone back to Storybrooke and regressed back into a selfish, self-esteem lacking, seemingly heartless thief separated from his true love Anastasia / the Red Queen. Highly unoriginal of Adam and Eddy, but whatever, there were still plans to move forward with him as a character on the main show. But those plans failed to materialize and Michael Socha spent a lot of time on set doing nothing, a miserable experience which he was very vocal about afterward. And what was Adam and Eddy's excuse? "It’s just, you know, there’s just so many…there’s just so many people that it’s like, it’s sometimes hard to do that story and sacrifice Regina’s story. That’s just showbiz." It all comes down to Regina. Of course.

In the end it's for the best that the confirmation of the Wonderland Saga as taking place in Season 2 never happened in the pilot we actually got, since Will's existence in this season only makes sense now if it was happening before the Wonderland Saga rather than after, thus my headcanon will always be that Will's fateful break-in to Granny's was after it closed up on the night "Operation Mongoose" ended on rather than the night of the wraith attack.

* Elsa, Anna, Kristoff, Sven, Hans, Grand Pabbie, Oaken, the Duke of Weselton, and the former King and Queen of Arendelle are all lifted from Frozen to OUAT, and for every character that required an actor they got an actor who perfectly brought the animated movie character to life. They are also written accurately as well, with Elsa naturally being the stand-out given how much she gets to do and the bond she forges with Emma. And then there are the new Frozen characters invented for the show: Elsa and Anna's aunts - the deceased Helga and the icy-powered Ingrid, who is also the Frozen Saga's Big Bad, the Snow Queen. Ingrid, played beautifully by Elizabeth Mitchell, is essentially what Elsa might have become if Anna hadn't been so unconditionally loving toward her - her mind warped by her past pain and trauma, embittered toward all normal people, and willing to cross any moral boundary to find a family and place to belong to. Her connection to Elsa and Anna is perfectly exploited, her interactions with characters like Emma and Rumple are fascinating, and her ending where she realizes the error of her ways and sacrifices her life to reverse the damage she's done is the show's most beautiful, emotional send-offs for a villain since Rumple's death.

* The Queens of Darkness are Rumple's cohorts in the Operation Mongoose Saga who also desire the Author to write them a happy ending. The initial group is the trio of Maleficent, Ursula and Cruella De Vil, and it's later revealed that not-so-dead Zelena is also a member.

Maleficent, in spite of being played competently by Kristen Bauer van Straten and having great fashion sense in both worlds, is the weakest of the initial trio, since she is saddled with the mind-bogglingly stupid eggnapping subplot. Ursula isn't actually reflective of the Disney version of the character (Regina already did that in Season 3) and is more like a dark version of Ariel in regards to her backstory. She also isn't nearly as villainous as her peers and naturally she is redeemed rather quickly and easily as a result. And then there's Cruella De Vil, who is not a fairy tale character so everyone feared how she'd come off. Well, she's not only the best of the trio but one of the show's best villains, period. Victoria Smurfit looks, sounds and moves like the cartoon character made flesh, backed up by strong writing that makes her both funny and menacing - especially the latter when it comes to her backstory, a twisted little tale that subverts the show's usual "evil isn't born, it's made" mantra HARD.

Zelena.....SIGH. Like I said before, Adam and Eddy were dropping obvious clues that she wasn't really dead at the end of Season 3, which begged the question why they did a fake-out death to begin with. Apparently, it's because of this season's twist where, with almost no foreshadowing whatsoever, Marian is revealed to actually be Zelena in disguise, having traveled back in time with Emma and Hook and then killed the real Marian in order to take her place. She's revealed to then be pregnant with Robin Hood's child (since he slept with her thinking she was Marian...therefore, she raped him) before being hauled right on back to Storybrooke prison again. It's awful writing, salvaged only by Rebecca Mader's performance.

* We get some welcome returning characters this season, including Sydney Glass, Blackbeard, Ariel, Cora, and against all expectations August Booth. There are some interesting new side characters introduced as well, such as warlord Bo Peep (yes, really), Ursula's father Poseidon played by the great Ernie Hudson, and the Sorcerer's Apprentice, keeper of the Sorcerer's Hat and the Author's boss, meaning he naturally plays a major role throughout the season. The Author himself is Isaac Heller, played by Patrick Fischler, and he turns out to be a surprise villain who abuses his powers to influence events, which an Author is not supposed to do. While I wish he didn't take over the Big Bad position to such a degree in the finale, Isaac is still a very entertaining villain, especially when he's playing off of Regina and Rumple. His sardonic and cynical attitude also make him the perfect foil to Henry.

And then there's this season's biggest waste of a new character: Lilith "Lily" Page. There are three major problems with Lily. First of all, her origin - she's Maleficent's child that Snow and Charming kidnapped, passed all of Emma's natural-born darkness onto, and sent through a portal when she was still in an egg. It's so utterly stupid. Second, she is played by a Latino actress as a child only to have a white actress playing her as an adult. How does that work!? Finally, for all of the build-up she receives, she and her story go absolutely nowhere after she is reunited with her mother. They even make a point of giving her a scene toward the end about wanting to find who her father is, and that never gets followed up on. Even worse, the next story arc is all about Emma going dark, which Rumple had been trying to make happen throughout this arc and Lily was linked to, and yet Lily, her literal dark half, ISN'T involved!? Honestly, Mal from Descendants made a better "daughter of Maleficent" character! MAL!

Atmosphere - The Frozen Saga's atmosphere is very...Frozen-y; I don't really know another word to describe it. At least whenever it's focused on the Frozen characters. The Rumple subplot gets progressively darker to the point of becoming unpleasant, while the Regina subplot is just romantic and existential angst 24/7. These atmospheres don't fit in with the Frozen one at all, which is a testament to how Adam and Eddy are going the wrong direction with this show. Once the Operation Mongoose Saga happens, the atmosphere of the show goes insane, flip-flopping back and forth between family fairy tale wholesomeness to dark and disturbing and depressing to campiness on a level that feels off even for this show.

Episode Quality - For the most part, the Frozen Saga's episodes are perfectly fine and entertaining, although stretching out the 8th episode, "Smash the Mirror", into a two-parter was a horrible idea that cost the show terribly in the ratings. The only two standouts of badness are the 5th episode, "Breaking Glass", which introduces Lily in the flashback story while the present day story is all about Emma just having to sit back and take Regina's verbal abuse in spite of doing nothing to deserve it, and the final episode, "Heroes and Villains", whose only redeeming quality is the scene with Rumple and Belle at the town line, which doesn't even have lasting consequences. For the rest of the episode, we either spend time giving the Frozen cast a rushed, underwhelming send-off, having Rumple continue to abuse Hook while none of the idiot heroes catch on, fixating even more on Regina's angst as she has to let Robin Hood leave town in order to "save" "Marian", and watching a stupid Rumbelle-based flashback introducing the Queen of Darkness trio. In short, the episode is more the start of the Operation Mongoose Saga than it is the end of the Frozen Saga, which feels like a slap in the face to the last thing that made this show relevant to the mainstream.

And the Operation Mongoose Saga's episodes....actually got a lot better on a rewatch!? Don't get me wrong, this story arc is BAD. But when you detach yourself emotionally from the show and its characters, it becomes So Bad It's Good. It's as if the entire saga is Isaac's fanfiction; after all, it truly got started in "Heroes and Villains", and that's the name of Isaac's book in the "Operation Mongoose" two-part finale. Some episodes are unironically fun: "Darkness on the Edge of Town", "Poor Unfortunate Soul" and "Sympathy For the De Vil", but the other episodes are also fun when you just embrace how batshit crazy this whole story is and just enjoy watching how these poor actors are struggling to make something out of the material, and it's just as much fun when they fail as it is when they succeed. "Heart of Gold", the Robin Hood focus episode that reveals the Marian = Zelena twist, is one I have a soft spot for, because between Mader and Carlyle's acting, the scene of that reveal is hilarious.

Overall -  Season 4 is basically the inverse of Season 2. Whereas Season 2 was horribly structured but a lot of strong material in either writing or acting was able to make it stronger than the sum of its parts. Season 4, on the other hand, has a solid structure with two inter-connected story arcs, but the material gets so increasingly shoddy that it doesn't matter. Until Seasons 6 and 7 came along, this was definitely the weakest season the show had to offer. If you don't mind a So Bad It's Good quality, then you should stick with the entire thing. But if you only want something that's actually good, then just watch all of the Frozen material.

[killiansprincss]

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan Characters: Emma Swan, Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Neal Nolan, Henry Mills (Once Upon a Time), Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Prince Charming | David Nolan, Alexandra (Once Upon a Time), Phillip II (Once Upon a Time), Original Female Character(s), Robin | Margot Additional Tags: Neverland (Once Upon a Time), Curses, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Emma Grows Up Happy, Evil Queen curses Emma, season 6 AU, Angst, Magic, Hurt, Canon Divergence Chapters 1|2|3|4|5| okay here is chapter 6 of my Neverland fanfic! I hope you enjoy please leave me a comment on A03 I’d really appreciate it!

I also have a collage for my story below, ignore the badly photoshopped Alex Pettyfer as Neal Nolan! 

Emma woke up on the morning of her 28th birthday and she felt like she had a hangover even though she hadn't been drinking. In fact, it was worse than a hangover because she had woken up with 2 lives inside of her head.

But it wasn’t like in New York, because that life was based on a lie and false memories, she actually had lived 2 lives. One as a daughter, a sister, a friend, and another as. Well, as an orphan.

Henry, and Killian. The two missing mystery men. No wonder she was dreaming of those two the most, as she had no clue where they were. The two most important men in her life and she was clueless as to where to begin looking for them. Hopefully, her parents would have the answers.

Her house. With the white picket fence, with a view of the water.

The two people missing from it were the ones who chose it.

How could this have happened? Things were going so well, the three of them were finally starting to be a family when the Queen ripped that away from them. She searches in her jewellery box that she’s looked through every day, hoping the one thing she wants is in there. Necklaces and bracelets and rings she’s received from her parents and friends over the years. It’s not there she thinks to herself.

But then, at the bottom of the pile, it's there. Liam’s ring, the one Killian gave her back in Camelot all those years ago. She takes the silver ring on the chain and feels a sense of relief as she puts it over her head. She was going to find them, and bring them home.

The drive to her parents’ house, despite it only being less than a 5-minute drive, felt like a lifetime. She kept going over in her head(s) what was happening right now, she was meant to be celebrating her birthday with her parents and younger brother, the way they do every year, but now she was finding it strange that she had a family to do this. She was an orphan who found her family at 28, but she wasn’t really an orphan now. Or was she?

She knocks on the door to her parents house, expecting a huge Happy Birthday banner and for them to sing, but instead her father has the sorrowful look in his eyes when he opens the door. There’s no ‘Happy Birthday’ because he obviously knew what was coming.

“I remember,” is all she says as she just starts to cry.

The old Emma, the orphan would never cry, especially in front of her parents, but the girl who grew up with a family cried over the stupidest things

“Come in, we'll talk all about it.” David says putting his arm around her leading her inside.

Wiping her tears away she asks, “what happened?”

David and Snow look at one another trying to figure out the best way to explain the situation. “The Evil Queen, she said turning you into a toddler was the best way to get to each of us.” They begin to explain, going through all the details of how they eventually captured the Queen using squid Ink and how Regina has sacrificed herself to save everyone.

“Wh-what about Henry and Killian?” Emma asks when they’ve finished.

Snow takes a deep breath before saying, “we don’t know. When it happened they ran off to another realm we think, we haven’t heard from them since it happened.”

Emma looks like she could be sick, or faint, or both.

Seeing her face David quickly adds, “they’re safe though don’t worry. We believe Gold had a hand in wherever they escaped to, we can go ask him.”

“No-“ she cuts them off, “I’ll go. Just me. Henry’s my son and I have no idea where he is, I haven’t been his mother for 25 years.”

“Emma, you didn’t have a choice. He forgives you for putting him up for adoption, of course he’ll forgive you for not being there when you were under a curse.” Snow tells her, caught off guard by her sudden attitude-the Emma she raised would never do something this important alone. She was going to have to get used to the fact that the Emma she didn’t raise was seeping back in, the one who liked to work alone. The Orphan.

“Before you go beat up Gold to find out where Henry is,” David says, giving her a large rectangular box, “I thought you might want this.”

Emma takes the box, and slowly opens it to reveal her red leather jacket. Her armour. She hasn’t needed her armour growing up with a family, but now…

She took off her armour when she realised she wanted a future with Killian. But now, she didn’t know if there was a future with him.

_______

She decides to walk to Golds shop. Feeling slightly betrayed by everyone she needs the fresh air. That is until she bumps into her best friend Alex.

“Happy Birthday Emma!” She screams and hugs as she sees her. “I know it’s only a Tuesday but I was thinking tonight we can go drinking at the Rabbit Hole, like I’m working there until 8 and then I have tomorrow off,” she starts babbling, Emma feels so mean but all she can think about is Henry and getting him back.

“I can’t, I need to find my son. I need to find him I don’t know.” She starts to ramble, she knows Alex won’t understand, but she can’t think straight.

Alex looks perplexed, “I’m confused, you don’t have a son? Emma are you feeling okay?”

“No!” She cries, “nothing in my life is real, none of this. It’s all lies I don’t.”

Alex takes Emma’s hand, “Em. It’s okay. I’m your best friend, I’ve known you for your whole life, whatever you’re going though I’m here.”

“No that’s the problem, you don’t know me. At all. My life, growing up with you, it’s all based on a lie.” As soon as Emma said it, she knew it came out wrong.

Letting go of her hand Alex replies, “okay well if that’s how you feel then forget it. I was only trying to help. So much for being best friends.” And storms away, hurt by what Emma said.

She tried to call after her, but it was no use. And plus even if she tried to explain what was going on she wouldn’t believe it.

___

Standing outside of the Pawn Shop is strange. She had been inside many times before in her past life, but not once in the past 25 years. She stands outside for a moment debating what to say, but in the end she just storms inside. She sees the dark one inside in all his horrific glory, despite not having aged much he still looks awful.

“Where the hell is my son Gold?” She demands.

“Why Miss Nolan, I didn’t realise you had a son?” Emma rolls her eyes, the typical Dark One avoiding the question at hand.

“Don’t play dumb okay. Henry. Your grandson. Where. Is. He?” She demands again.

He finally looks up from his books. “Ah, has it been 25 years already? Well I believe birthday wishes are in order!”

Emma sighs, this isn’t going to be easy. “Look. My parents told me Henry and Killian made some kind of deal with you after what happened to me. They’re in some other realm or something, I want to know where, and how you can get them back.”

“Well I told them where they could go. Doesn’t mean they’re still there. As for getting them back, I’m afraid you’ll have to do that yourself.” He explains.

“Okay then do something to find them.” She practically yells at him.

“Blood magic can be used to find your son, for your one handed pirate lover I'm afraid there’s no way of finding him.” Emma’s heart sinks, but she knows Henry is the most important person to find right now.

He reaches under the counter to grab something, part of Emma wishes she had her gun but at the same time she knew that wouldn’t work on him, and her parents probably got rid of that a long time ago. It’s the same white atlas-like ball he used to locate Henry when he was kidnapped by Pans' minions.

“Before you do anything, if that’s a locator spell we are using my blood. Forgive me if I don’t trust you, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you do anything.” She tells him.

He nods in understanding. Emma gives her hand over and he and he pricks it on the top of the globe, slowly releasing her finger onto the white globe and the blood rushes around forming different shapes until they finally form one shape and glow.

“What does that mean?” She asks.

He smirks, “why it’s Neverland dearie.”

The pit of Emma’s stomach gurgled, and it wasn’t because she hasn’t eaten anything today.

Neverland.

Where Henry was taken the first time. Also the place where she finally admitted to herself that she felt something for Killian, and where he told her after kissing her he saw himself loving someone again.

It was where she accepted the fact she was an orphan, a lost girl.

“So do you have a magic bean or something?” She asks, ignoring her overwhelming thoughts inside her head.

The Dark one just laughs, “you think if I had an endless supply to magic beans I would still live here?”

Emma just glares at him, “so how do I get there? What happened to the wand you had? It created portals before?”

“That wand was lost a long time ago. As for portals, you and your brother are born of the truest love, your powers are of the strongest light magic. You created a portal once when you went back in time, I’m sure after years of training and love you’ll be able to do it again.” He explains. “Meet me back here later with your family and I’ll show you.”

______

______

Neal Nolan was working as an English Teacher in Storybrooke High. He had grown up with his older sister Emma, who was a year older than him. Or so he thought. Neal had no idea of the news he was about to be hit with about his sister.

Neal knocks on the door to his parents’ house with his gift for his sister. He got her a Granny's gift card and a new brown sheriffs jacket (which his girlfriend Thalia helped him pick out) and expects to see Emma in the goofy birthday hat they have both worn on their birthdays since they were 5, but instead, his dad opens the door and he walks in to find Emma looking through the Storybook almost crying.

“Everything okay?” He asks.

Emma looks at him, almost horrified. “We gotta talk.”

He debates whether to say Happy Birthday or not. He decides against it.

“I have no idea how you’re going to take this news,” Emma begins, “One thing is that you are an uncle.”

Nels eyes widen “You’re pregnant?��

“NO!” Emma shouts “Not, no, definitely not.”

Neal is even more confused.

“You are an uncle, but I’m not pregnant. I was, but I'm not now, or well I was a long time ago” Emma starts rambling and making no sense, Neal is even more confused now-When did Emma have a kid?

“Maybe we should back up a little.” Snow says, seeing her son's confused face.

And so the three of them explain how Emma was put through the magic wardrobe to eventually save everyone. How Emma met Neals namesake and thus Henry was born but given up for adoption. Then all about her journey in Storybrooke and breaking the curse, and all the other journeys and curses up until the one where she was turned into a toddler. And how said son and Emma’s boyfriend ran away to Neverland, a place where nobody grows old.

Looking at the photos of Emma holding her baby brother was slightly concerning considering Emma in the photos looked exactly as she did now, yet Neal was a baby. If he hadn’t just been told Emma’s previous life story, he would’ve sworn they were photoshopped.

“Okay, so what happens now?” Neal asks, worried about the answer.

“You and I have to create a portal to Neverland to save my son and True Love,” Emma tells him as though it’s obvious.

“Wait a second, you and I create a portal, like combine our powers?” Neal asks slightly worried about this, they had never combined their powers before and now they were meant to create a portal, everything that could possibly go wrong was likely to happen.

“I realise it’s crazy, but we have no choice. You just gotta trust me.” Emma knows Neal can never say no when she says this, as his older sister Emma always got him to do what she wanted by saying “trust me”. Despite getting into trouble most of the time when they were younger with the whole trusting Emma, even now as a 26 year old man, he couldn't say no to his sister.

Neal just sighs, “Okay. Let's do this.”

Neal had never stepped inside Mr. Gold's Pawn shop. When he was younger he heard stories of kids sneaking in and touching different items therefore getting cursed with the insane amounts of dark magic in his shop. Now he was older, he knew this was just a story, but it didn’t make him any less nervous to enter his shop, there was an insane amount of light and dark magic inside that freaked him out.

There was something different about Emma, the way she walked and held herself. She was less confident, very aware of her surroundings, normally she was more confident and whilst she was aware people knew her (both as Snow White oldest child, and the current sheriff), she never let this bother her, whereas now, supposedly everyone their parents age would have known her before her curse, people were looking at her wondering if she had broken her curse yet. Even as they enter Mr Gold's shop, which wasn’t actually as scary inside as he pictured, she walked in very determined,

“Okay were here. How do we do this?”

“Patience Miss Nolan.” He tells her.

“Ah and the youngest of the Charming broods I see.” Mr Gold says looking at Neal, who suddenly felt a little uncomfortable. He knew of the things he had done to people, innocent people, in the Enchanted Forest and that made his stomach churn. But his parents (and Emma apparently now too) have trusted him in the past, and Neal guessed so should he.

“Before we make this portal, you don’t do things out of the goodness of whatever heart you have left. What did you ask for in return?” Emma really was not the older sister he grew up with, she was this independent, confident and slightly argumentative woman that looked like his sister, but had a different aura about her.

“For my grandson I was willing to let the poor lad have this without a deal. As for the pirate.” He sneers, Neal was told The Dark One had a colourful history with Hook, and he was seeing this already. “I simply reminded him of the 300 years he spent in Neverland and what, desires, may still lurk.”

Neal had no idea what this meant, and neither did Emma by the looks of it.

“Now, you two are born of the purest true love therefore your powers combined can create some pretty serious magic.” Gold explains, “Now I need the two of you to hold your hands together and believe you are strong enough. You need to think of the portal in your minds, you will feel it when it is ready.”

And so the siblings to just that. They take each other's hands, standing opposite one another and close their eyes. They then take a deep breath and think of a portal in their minds, letting their magic grow and rise above them.

Emma thinks of Henry, and of Killian. She thinks of Neverland in her mind, and when Henry was kidnapped, she thinks of how badly she wanted to get him back and the things she had learnt about herself, about how much she loved Henry. And about how she was feeling something for Hook.

Both siblings can feel the magic, it’s a part of them and it's rushing around their insides like their blood. Gold said they would feel it when the portal was ready, and he was not wrong. It almost splits the two siblings apart, but they hold on to one another until they just know it’s ready.

The two siblings open their eyes and see a door, a green door with black etchings and designs. It's the portal to Neverland.

They're going to save Henry. Again.

_______

The four charming family members step through the beautifully crafted door, the portal to Neverland. They had packed a few bags and Emma was going to see her son (and hopefully true love) for the first time in 25 years. She could be sick.

The greenery of Neverland greets them as they walk through the door, the humidity and vast amount of jungle and sea that they had seen once upon a time. They arrive near the coast, and Emma can’t see the Jolly Roger in the water, but she had to think positively. If Killian was here she would find him. But only after they found Henry.

She looks over at her parents, and they have the same look on their faces. Fear, determination and awoken memories they had shoved into the back of their minds. After all, Emma wasn’t the only person to go through hell in Neverland, her father was poisoned with dreamshade and had planned to spend the rest of eternity here after drinking the rejuvenating waters.

And poor Neal who only found out a few hours ago that she was actually a lot older than him and was cursed, and now he was in Neverland searching for two people he had only met as a baby.

“Let’s head into the jungle then.” Emma says to her family. And so they head off, into the green jungle filled with who knows what. Now Pan was dead, who knows who now ruled Neverland.

It looks the same as it did 30 years ago, but it feels different. The Magic on the Island feels different, she knows this now, by studying magic for years taught her to sense different types of magic and this was some kind of mix of light dark magic. Not as powerful as Dark One Magic, but not the light magic she feels inside herself. Whatever was keeping this Island alive was clearly a type of magic not found in Storybrooke.

They’re walking for probably an hour when Neals plucks up there courage and asks, “Do you recognise anything here?”

Emma wants to ignore him and shut him out, the way she would’ve done before, but he was her brother, “Honestly, no. I thought I would but it all looks the same.”

“I think we should keep walking, I think we’re on a ridge right now and I assume there’s flatland where we can set up camp a little further up.” Their mother cuts in. Snow was a bandit and a runaway for years when her father was killed, so she knows how to scope out new lands and find a place to set up camp, so they don’t question it and sure enough another little while and they find flat land that seems like a good enough place to set up camp.

“Let’s not use magic to set it up though,” Emma tells her brother, “we don’t know what sort of magic is used here, or who now rules this Island and if they can detect magic. It’s just safer to do it the normal way.”

Everyone nods as they begin to set up. Emma is terrified, she has been since she woke up and realised her life was a lie. She had grown up the way she always wished to, with a family, but now she had broken her curse, it didn’t feel right. She abandoned two people she loved, one being her son. The first family she had in 28 years.

They had run away. So heartbroken that they ran from their home. That didn’t make her feel good about herself. Henry has forgiven her for giving him up as a baby, but will he forgive her for this?

“Emma! Emma!”

She’s snapped out of her thoughts by her brother's voice.

“Sorry, I was zoned out.” She tells him.

“Hey it’s okay don’t worry.” He can clearly sense what’s happening in her brain, though he has no idea of the extent. “I know you said no magic, but don’t you think it’s a good idea to put up a protection spell around our camp? To keep out whoever or whatever might attack us.”

Her little brother was brilliant. Though his magical abilities were not as good, lucky for him was not the saviour so his magic wasn't as strong, but what he did know was his magical history and the theory behind magic, much more than Emma did.

“That's actually a really good idea! You can cast it if you want, I’m a little weak after the portal.”  She lies, she’s not weak, she's just scared of using her magic. In her real-or before her cursed life, she didn’t use magic unless it was serious, when she was the Dark One she used it for everything just like in her cursed life.

He believes her lie, why wouldn’t he, she never normally lies to him. He casts the protection spell eagerly, not normally given the chance to do magic.

“We should rest. It’s dark, and we’re not gonna be able to find Henry now. Let’s sleep, and we can figure out our plan in the morning. We also don’t know who or what is in charge of this Island, don’t want to run into them in the middle of the night.” David says to his family, to which they all agree. Emma is exhausted and her dad is right, there’s no point starting now all she knows is he is on the Island somewhere, maybe he’s imprisoned, or worse, enjoying his time on the island where you don’t grow up.

Sharing a tent with Neal when they were kids was a fun adventure, but as two adults, one who was snoring very loudly, it was a very different story. As tired and exhausted as Emma was, or thought she was, she could not sleep. Killian once told her he was never able to sleep in Neverland, as you can hear the cries of the other lost boys and girls.

But you can only hear their cries if you are also a lost one.

Sure Emma had a family, and she grew up surrounded by people who loved her, she had 2 best friends and a little brother. She was the furthest thing from a lost girl. But she was an orphan. For 28 years, she was an orphan who was never wanted, and gave up her child at 17. That part of Emma will never go away.

Giving up on trying to sleep, she gets out of the tent and sits on the log to try and clear her head. If it’s even possible to do that with the cries of lost ones.

She thought about the two men she was here to save. The last time she had seen Henry, it was saying goodbye to him on the school bus, it was a Friday so they planned to have a Star Wars marathon that weekend. Emma had stocked the freezer with Ice Cream especially. Finally Killian would learn and understand their references to Star Wars. She hoped Henry would still be the same smart little kid who questioned everything.

And Killian. God she missed him. He would bring her coffee in the mornings when she had an early start, and when she was on a night shift at the station he would be at home cooking her breakfast. If she hadn’t been cursed, they would’ve been married and had a kid or two by now. They were finally happy, finally without walls, and she had a feeling Killian was going to propose. But of course he never got the chance.

She loses her train of thought when she hears a twig being stepped on. Her impulses kick in and she hides behind the large tree to her left. She hears someone whistling, as if signalling to somebody. She sees him in the distance. A lost boy, around 15, dark hair, like…

“Henry!” She jumps from behind the tree and in front of her son.

He looks startled, obviously because she scared him and also he hasn’t seen her for 25 years. “Mom?”

Emma is smiling so hard right now, “Henry!”

Henry can’t seem to get words out, “m-mom? Is? It’s-you-you’re here?”  

She goes to embrace her son with tears streaming down her face. “I’m here. It’s broken. The curse.”

She pulls back and wipes away her tears.

“Is it really you?” He asks.

Emma looks different to how he remembers her. Her blonde hair is in a french braid, something she only learned to do in this life. Her clothes are nicer, but still donning the red jacket. Henry knows it’s her, but could it really be her?

“It’s me. Henry. It’s really me. I know you love cinnamon on your hot cocoa, and Operation Cobra brought me to Storybrooke and you made me believe in magic in everything.” Emma’s practically sobbing, she didn’t expect to see him so soon.

Henry looks nervous constantly checking his surroundings, “I can’t stay. If you’re truly my mom, then meet me here tomorrow morning when the sun rises over the place they took my heart.”  With one last look he runs away into the darkness of Neverland.

Emma is stunned for a second, confused as to what just happened. Was there someone following him, or did he need to be somewhere?

The place where they took my heart

Dark Hollow . She tried to look around but it was dark, hopefully in the morning she would be able to see the sun rising over it.

Just as she’s pondering over the last minute with Henry, she’s startled by another voice.

“Swan.”

She hasn’t heard that name in 25 years. And there’s only one person who calls her that.

“Killian.”

[wistfulcynic]

Their Way By Moonlight: The Magic (Chapter 17)

In which the last of the curse is swept away and Zelena gets what’s coming to her. 

-

This chapter took me sooo loooonnggg to write. Partly because of writing other things, partly because I’m struggling to focus during the lockdown. Normally I spend at least one afternoon a week writing at a local coffee shop but of course that’s not possible right now and it’s wreaking a bit of havoc with my productivity. 

BUT! There is now a chapter count for this story! It will be 18 chapters in total, this one and a final one to wrap things up. Thanks to everyone who’s stuck with it for the past *gulp* more than a year. I love you all, but especially @thisonesatellite​ @ohmightydevviepuu​ and @katie-dub​​ whose enthusiasm and support means the world to me ❤️❤️❤️

-

SUMMARY: A new curse has fallen on Storybrooke and this time Emma is trapped inside it, deliberately separated from Henry and anyone else who might  help her break it. But what no one knows –including her own cursed self– is that she and Killian have the ability to share their dreams, and are working together in secret to find a way to break the curse and free everyone from a new and dangerous foe.

Rating: M

AO3

-

The Magic:

Snow White had heard the expression ‘earth-shattering orgasm’ before, of course she had, but like any sensible woman with a realistic perspective on men and their limitations, she’d never taken the phrase literally. 

Until now. 

Now she lay sprawled and trembling in her once-lonely bed, panting harshly wondering if the world had always spun so damned fast. She chuckled breathlessly against the sweat-slicked skin of David’s shoulder. 

“Damn, Charming, you’ve always been good but I’ve never felt the earth move before,” she teased. 

David rolled over and grinned at her, his hand trailing down her side and over her hip. “What can I say? It’s been a long time and I was highly motivated.”  He leaned in to nuzzle her neck as his words echoed through her mind. 

It’s been a long time… a long time… long time…

Snow gasped as realisation struck, just as David pulled back with a start and she could see he understood as well. “The curse,” she exclaimed. “Is it broken?” 

“I think it is,” he replied. “I remember…” His eyes filled with regret and he pulled her close again. “Snow. I remember.” 

Snow wrapped her arms around him and they held each other in silence for a moment, far too tightly for comfort and still not nearly tight enough as their cursed memories washed over them. Everything that had happened over the past year, the wretchedness of it, living together and feeling nothing for each other. It should have been impossible, Snow thought, they were True Love. She could certainly feel her love for him now, surging up almost indignantly as if it resented having gone un-felt for so long, and yet she remembered looking at him with pure indifference. She shuddered and David’s arms tightened still further. She knew he was wondering the same thing she was. Who, what, could possibly have done this to them? 

She tried to sort through the memories, of Regina—as their maid, of all unbelievable things—and Zelena—wait, who exactly was Zelena?—and Emma, and— 

“Emma!” she cried, jerking her head back so abruptly it narrowly missed a collision with David’s chin. “David, she’s here in Storybrooke! How is she here?” 

“I was just wondering that,” he said grimly. “What do you say we go find out?” 

~

“We should go to Granny’s,” suggested Henry. “That’s where everyone went when the last curse broke. I bet they’ll go there again.” 

“Good thinking.” Emma nodded in agreement but Killian shook his head.

“What about Zelena?” he asked. “Do we know how the curse breaking will affect her? Perhaps we should stop by the sheriff’s station first.” 

“I think Zelena will be okay in her cell for a bit longer,” Emma replied. “She’s still behind that shielding spell I put around her.” 

“Nevertheless I’d feel better if we checked,” said Killian. “Not that I don’t have every faith in you, Swan, but we should err on the side of caution. Zelena is nothing if not unpredictable.” 

“Hmmm, yeah that is a point. And she has been one step ahead of us for most of this.” Emma’s expression turned thoughtful. “Okay, we can go to the sheriff’s station, but I’d actually kind of like to go find my parents first.” She shrugged. “Just to see them, you know. Before we get caught up with the rest of the town.”

Killian smiled. “Of course, love.”

“And, um, actually, can I go to Regina’s?” asked Henry. “I want to make sure she’s okay, and I can tell her about the plan to meet at Granny’s.” 

“That’s probably a good idea,” said Emma. “The rest of us can go to my parents—” 

“It might be better if you did that without me,” Killian interjected. “Your father and I were still on rather shaky terms when I saw him last and my presence with you would likely raise some questions best kept for later.” 

Neal snorted, then shrugged when the other three glared at him. “What? He’s not wrong.” 

“So where will you go?” Emma asked. 

“I was thinking I could stop at the sheriff’s station by myself. If Zelena is as secure as you think then you needn’t come along unless you wish to. I can check on her quickly then head to Granny’s and meet you there.” 

“Okay, that sounds like a good plan,” said Emma. “Henry goes to get Regina—” 

“And Robin, they have a date tonight so he should be with her.” Henry’s eyes lit up. “I bet Robin Hood will be useful in—well, in whatever comes now.” 

“Yeah, okay, so Henry goes to get Regina and Robin while I go to find my parents, and Killian will go to the station to check on Zelena. We’ll meet back at Granny’s as soon as possible. Everyone okay with that?” They all nodded except Neal, who still stood in the corner with his arms crossed. Emma fixed him with a glare and he scowled in reply. “Neal?” she said in a warning tone. “What about you?” 

Neal swept the room with his scowl and shrugged again. “I’ll go with Hook,” he said. “Check on Zelena then meet you at Granny’s.” 

“Really?” Emma demanded. “That’s what you want to do?”

“Hey don’t forget I worked for Zelena under the curse. I saw what she’s capable of, and that was without magic. If she’s even a little bit free then trust me, the pirate’s gonna need backup.” 

Emma looked questioningly at Killian. “I wouldn’t mind some backup, actually,” he said. 

“And you’re sure you’ll—be okay?” Emma asked, turning to Neal again. 

“If you’re asking can I go half an hour without punching your husband, yeah I can,” he replied with a sneer. “But those questions your parents are gonna have? I’ve got them too. Just as long as both of you remember that.” 

“Once we’re sure the town’s safe we will tell all of you everything,” Emma assured him. “We promise. Just behave yourselves until then. Both of you.” 

Killian and Neal exchanged a long look, then nodded stiffly to each other. 

“Fine by me,” said Neal. 

“Aye, and me.” Killian tightened the arm that still rested around Emma’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Be careful, love,” he murmured in her ear. “We’ll see you at Granny’s.” 

Emma tightened her hold around his waist and quickly checked the protection spells around him. They were still firmly in place, and as strong as ever. Even if she somehow managed to gain control of the curse magic, there was no way Zelena could use it to harm Killian. Emma drew a deep breath and told herself to relax. Killian was safe, thoroughly protected, and there was no reason for him to know that she’d never let him go alone to face Zelena unless she was certain of that. 

She gave him a final squeeze and then released him, stepping back and gathering her magic. 

“Everyone ready?” she asked. 

“Just one last thing.” Killian disappeared into their bedroom and returned a moment later, tightening the straps of the brace that held his hook. 

“Just in case,” he said, as he tugged the sleeve of his sweater down over it and Emma nodded. “Ready when you are, love.”

She poofed Henry first, sending him straight to the living room of the loft. Killian and Neal she directed to a safe corner of the sheriff’s station, then took herself to the doorstep of the house where her parents now lived. 

~

The Rabbit Hole was silent but for the low drone of the dwarves’ conversation across the room. The Merry Men sat in a circle, beer mugs clutched in white-knuckled grips, every ear turned to the large man standing at their centre. 

“And that,” concluded Little John, with one final flourish to his rapt audience, “is how I reorganised the entire filing system at the library!” 

The Merry Men erupted into cheers, pounding on their tables or leaping to their feet to clap the hero Little John on his back in hearty congratulation. All but Will Scarlet, who sat back in his chair with his arms folded and a scowl on his face. 

“Pah,” he scoffed, once the furore had died down. 

“What’s that, Scarlet?” said Little John. “Did you say something?” 

“Pah, is what I said,” Will replied. “You’re always biggin’ yourself up, John.” 

“Oh? You think you could do better?” 

“I’m the bloody town records clerk, mate, of course I could do better. Let me tell you about my filing system—” 

Alan-a-Dale took a deep swig of his beer and shook his head fondly. “I never thought I’d live to see a day on which Will bloody Scarlet boasted about his filing system, eh, Stutely?” He elbowed the man sitting next to him. “I could see you doing that perhaps… but...” his words trailed off as he realised what he’d said. 

Scarlet... Stutely... filing systems... 

The curse. 

At the bar, Grumpy was having an epiphany. 

It hurt a bit. 

“Dopey,” he growled. “Did you… talk?” 

Dopey’s eyes went wide and he slowly nodded his head. His mouth opened but no words emerged, closing and reopening again in increasing confusion, his expression shifting to one of panic as he felt in his pockets for his notepad.

“Here.” Doc fished a piece of paper and a pen from his own pocket and handed them to his brother. Dopey took them with a grateful smile and wrote a single word. 

How? 

“I’ll tell you how,” said Grumpy. “The curse.” 

“The curse,” his brothers repeated, exchanging nods amongst themselves. 

The curse? wrote Dopey on his paper. 

“It’s broken, you idiots,” growled Grumpy. “THE CURSE IS BROKEN!” 

Comprehension dawned on the Merry Men’s faces as Grumpy’s words rang through the bar. They turned to each other in delight and began slapping backs and shaking hands once again. 

“Will Stutely, as I live and breathe!” cried Alan-a-Dale. 

His companion’s face broke into a wide grin. “Alan-a-Dale, well met indeed, my man! Has it been you all this time?” 

“It has!” said Alan, laughing and clapping his friend on the shoulder as they hugged, observing from the corner of his eye Will Scarlet almost lost in the bear-like embrace of Little John. “The devil’s own curse, this was. I wonder who cast it?” 

“Who else?” snarled Grumpy as he and the other dwarves approached. “The Evil Queen. She did it before and she’s done it again, and this time she’s not getting away with it.”

“What do you mean to do?” asked Little John. 

“We’re going to find our axes and do what we should’ve done the last time. Make certain the Queen can never hurt us again. Now, who’s with me?”

~

Regina was too distracted to notice the curse’s magic begin to shift and creak but she felt it shatter. She gasped as the razor shards of it prickled against her skin, jerking backwards and breaking her kiss with Robin. His arms were still tight around her, stopping her from stumbling, but his forehead wrinkled in confusion and she watched with her heart in her throat as he shook his head and blinked rapidly, and an expression of apprehension crept across his face. 

“Your Majesty,” he said cautiously. 

Regina refused to feel hurt, reminding herself that he probably thought she’d been under the curse as well and things hadn’t exactly been friendly between them in the Enchanted Forest. Of course he’d be concerned about her reaction to finding herself kissing him. 

“It’s still Regina to you,” she said softly. 

“Er—” his frown deepened. “Is it?” 

“Yes. Robin—” she reached up to touch his face and he flinched, his muscles tensing. Fear made her heart pound as she let her hand fall to his shoulder and groped for the best words to explain. “You were cursed.” 

“I remember. It was—wait, why do you say I was cursed? Weren’t you as well?”

“No.” 

“But you—er, we—” 

She nodded. “I had quite a lot of time to think this past year, with everyone else in town under the curse and with my son gone—” her voice broke and she paused for a moment to get hold of herself. “And I realised how much I regretted not being more… receptive to you in the Enchanted Forest.” 

“‘More receptive,’” he repeated. “That’s an interesting way to phrase it.” 

She felt herself flush. “I was a bitch,” she said flatly. “And I’m sorry.” 

His eyes widened at this blunt statement and then a smile tugged the corners of his mouth. “Not a bitch,” he said. “Forceful. Determined. Prickly, perhaps.” His arms tightened around her, and her heart fluttered when she realised he’d never removed them. “Fascinating,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower.  

She caught her breath then slowly lifted her hand again and laid it flat against his cheek, stroking her fingers across his cheekbone when he didn’t flinch away. He leaned closer and her hand curled around the back of his neck as his lips claimed hers. 

Regina sighed into the kiss, shivering at the electric frisson down her spine as his hand slid up it and into her hair. Her arm wound around his shoulders and his tongue slipped into her mouth and then a cloud of white swirled up from the living room floor and Henry appeared. 

~

Emma took a deep breath and raised her hand to knock on the door but before she could it swung open to reveal Snow and David, looking flushed and mussed and very surprised to find her standing there. 

“Um,” said Snow, blinking in confusion, and then joy broke across her face. “Emma!” she cried, throwing her arms around her daughter. “Oh, Emma!”

Tears welled in Emma’s eyes as she returned the hug and they rolled freely down David’s cheeks as he wrapped his arms around them both, cradling the back of Emma’s head in his hand in that fatherly way he had that always made her choke up a little. 

“I’ve missed you guys,” she said, sniffing and blinking rapidly. 

“We—well, we didn’t actually miss you, but oh, I wish we had,” cried Snow, hugging her harder, and Emma and David both chuckled though their tears. 

“Is it bad that I know exactly what she means?” David mused. 

They clung to each other for another minute, a sniffling mess of limbs, then Emma pulled back. “We need to go to Granny’s,” she informed them, wiping her eyes. 

“Yeah,” David agreed. “We had the same thought. That’s where people will congregate and they’re going to want reassurance. And honestly probably some vengeance. They let Regina go the last time but now—” 

“Regina didn’t cast the curse,” Emma interrupted. 

David and Snow exchanged confused looks. “Didn’t she?” David asked. 

“Don’t you remember?” 

“All I remember was that the curse came on so fast, almost out of nowhere,” said Snow. “And Regina had been working on finding a way to get back to Henry. I guess I just assumed.” 

“Mom, she was cursed as your maid. And Henry wasn’t even here. She was miserable. Do you really think she’d do that to herself?”

“Good point,” Snow conceded. “But if Regina didn’t cast the curse then who did?”

“Zelena,” replied Emma grimly.

“Zelena!” 

“Yep. Oh, and she’s the Wicked Witch of the West.” 

“The Wicked—” 

“But we don’t really have time to get into that now,” said Emma. “We need to get to Granny’s in case there’s another mob like when the last curse broke. We’ll need to give everyone that reassurance.” 

David nodded in agreement but Snow had clearly not been listening. “But Emma,” she said, “weren’t you cursed too? How do you know—” 

“Look, I promise I’ll tell you everything, but we kinda do have to hurry.” Emma tried to keep the impatience from her voice. “I can transport us with magic—” 

“You can?” 

“Mom!” 

“Sorry, I just—this is a lot to take in.” 

“Well, take it in at Granny’s. Can we go now?” 

Her parents nodded but before Emma could gather her magic, her phone buzzed with a text. A scowl darkened her face as she read it. “Change of plans,” she said, tucking the phone back into her pocket. “I’m sending you two to Granny’s now, and I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.” 

“Where are you going?” David demanded. 

“To the sheriff’s station,” said Emma grimly. “And I’m going in hot.” 

~

White smoke swirled and dissipated, leaving Killan and Neal in the sheriff’s station, just around the corner from the main room and out of sight of the cells. Neal started to move forward but Killian held out his arm to stop him and gave a small shake of his head. He pulled a mirror from his pocket, the same half of a broken compact that he had used to signal his location at Zelena’s farmhouse to Regina. It was just a mirror now, as far as he knew, the enchantment on it lifted or possibly expired, but a mirror was all he needed. 

He flattened himself against the wall as close to the corner as he dared and carefully angled the mirror until it reflected the image of Zelena in her cell. She was reclining on the cot with her legs tucked beneath her, examining her fingernails. Everything else appeared normal.

Killian slowly released the breath he’d been holding and returned the mirror to his pocket. 

“Looks fine,” he whispered to Neal. “I’m going in.” 

“Wait.” Neal kept his voice low but the urgency in it was unmistakable. Killian turned to look at him, carefully holding on to his patience. 

“What?”

Neal shifted his feet, grimacing slightly. “Look, man, I—I need to know something before we go in there. If I’m gonna trust you to have my back I need to know.” 

“Know what?” 

“Why you married her.” 

“Neal—” 

“Yeah, yeah, now’s not the time, curse is broken, gotta save the town, I get it. We will. But I need to know why.” 

Killian sighed. The timing wasn’t great but he would prefer to have this conversation with Neal alone, with no David around to bluster or Snow to cluck. He reminded himself that Neal still didn’t know about the connection Killian and Emma shared, or what had happened between them over the past two years. Their last conversation had been in Granny’s, when Killian had promised to back off. Finding him married to Emma now must surely look to Neal like blatant betrayal of that promise. His anger, however inconvenient, was understandable. 

“Because I love her,” Killian replied. The simplest explanations were always the strongest, and there wasn’t time right now for nuance. “I love her and she loves me and we want to spend our lives together.”

Neal’s scowl softened and some of the tension left his shoulders. He gave a small nod. “Okay.” 

Killian nodded in return and together they moved towards the main room of the station. Just as they turned the corner a rush of magic struck them, with the strength of a storm surge on an angry sea. It flung them both off their feet and sent them flying backwards to land in an undignified heap in front of the door. 

Killian shook his head to clear the ringing from his ears then realised that it wasn’t ringing at all, but a shrill cackle proceeding from the direction of the cells. He ground his teeth, even as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, grabbed his phone from his pocket and thrust it at Neal. 

“Text Emma,” he snarled. “Tell her to get here right away. Then stay out of sight until she arrives.” 

“What are you going to do?” 

“Stall the bloody witch until Emma can deal with her. Now hurry!” He scrambled to his feet and rounded the corner again, pushing his way through air made thick by magic. It resisted him, no longer a storm surge but a fen, the magic clinging to his clothes and sucking at his feet as he fought his way forward towards the cell where Zelena was still lounging, her pose ostentatiously casual and her expression far too pleased for Killian’s liking. 

~

“Mom!” Henry cried, not seeing them at first. “Mom, you—whoa!” His eyes bugged comically and he clapped his hand over them. “Bloody hell!”

Regina leapt back, shoving at Robin’s shoulders until he released her and smoothing her hair. She knew she must be blushing furiously, and Robin’s amused expression only confirmed it. “Henry!” she exclaimed. “What—what are you doing here?” 

“The curse broke,” said Henry. He peered cautiously through the gap between his fingers then seeing them standing a good foot apart removed his hand. “My mom and dad—er, both my dads are gathering everyone at Granny’s to figure out what happens now,” he explained. “I said I’d come here to get you, but I wasn’t expecting—I mean, I knew you weren’t alone, but—I thought people kissed at the end of dates!” 

“They do, but… well…” Regina looked helplessly at Robin.

“But it’s not every day that a curse breaks in the middle of one,” concluded Robin smoothly, stepping forward and offering Henry his hand. “Hello, Henry, it’s good to meet you properly,” he said. “I’m—” 

“Robin Hood,” interjected Henry with a wide grin, shaking the proffered hand enthusiastically. “I know. That’s so cool.” 

Robin chuckled. “I’m pleased you think so,” he said, with a teasing glance at Regina. “Your mum was somewhat less impressed.” 

Regina rolled her eyes dramatically, but she couldn’t quite suppress her pleased smile. “What do you want from me?” she huffed. “I said I was sorry.”   

“So you did but I’m not sure I’m quite convinced—”

“Look, this is great,” said Henry, with a smirk and an eye-roll of his own. “I’m glad you guys are, you know, bantering or whatever, but the thing is we’ve got this curse that’s just broken, and—” 

‘The curse!” Regina’s smile evaporated as a thought struck her, and she snatched up the flowers Robin had brought, scowling as she examined them. 

“Um, yeah,” said Henry. “It is broken, right? Emma said—” 

“Yes, it’s broken.” Regina plucked one of the flowers from the vase and peered at it. “Shattered, actually.” 

“Shattered!” 

“Yes.” Regina shivered. “It was always unstable and with all the pressure you’ve been putting on it lately, bringing love back, it was only a matter of time before the cracks burst open. Which leaves us with a new problem. That curse was made with magic from several different realms, and now it’s loose in the air and sort of—fighting with itself. Can’t you feel it?” 

She looked up to find two pairs of concerned eyes on her. “I—maybe?” said Henry. “What does magic feel like?” 

“Different magics feel different but this is like… well, to me it feels like shards of glass but for you it would be more like pinpricks all over your skin.” 

“Shards of glass?” Robin exclaimed as Henry nodded. 

“Yeah. I think I feel it.” 

“As do I.” Robin put his arm around her, running his hand up her back. “Are you all right?” 

She smiled, more touched than she could express by his care. “I’m fine. But we have to get rid of this magic. Storybrooke isn’t big enough to hold it all, and the longer it stays here the more dangerous it will become.” 

“How do we get rid of magic?” asked Henry. 

 Regina looked again at the flower she held. “I think I might have an idea.” She looked up at Robin. “This flower,” she said. “Can you show me where you picked it? The exact spot?” 

He nodded. “Yes, I remember it perfectly. But it’s deep in the forest.” 

Carefully Regina probed at the magic swirling around her. Most of it had been loosed by the curse, far too sharp and dangerous to use, but there was enough of Emma’s light magic remaining in the loft for what she needed. “I can take us to the start of the footpath by magic, we’ll walk from there,” she said. “Henry—” 

“I’m coming too,” Henry interrupted firmly, already on his phone. “I’m texting Emma now, so she’ll know where we are.” 

“Good idea.” Regina looked again at Robin, who was watching her intently with a small smile on his face. Her belly gave a little flutter. “Are you ready?” she asked.

“I am.” He curled his hand around her shoulder as Henry tucked his phone back into his pocket. “Though I wish I had my bow. Unfortunately I’ve no notion of where it may be.” 

“Oh, hey, I do!” said Henry said brightly. “I saw it at the pawn shop!” 

“Do we have time to stop there and fetch it?” 

“No,” said Regina. “But Henry if you tell me exactly where it is, I can summon it as we transport.” 

“It’s in the back, hung on a mannequin in the far left corner.” 

Regina closed her eyes and did her best to envision the back room of the pawn shop. She gathered all the magic she could touch and wrapped it tight around the bow, and the three of them. “Okay,” she said. “Here we go.” 

~

“Well, hello, Captain,” Zelena purred as Killian struggled up to the bars of her cell. “What an interesting situation we find ourselves in.”

“Do we?” Killian kept his expression bland, carefully not revealing either the effort it took to hold himself upright against the crushing force of the magic in the room or the little details he observed, such as the fact that Zelena’s cell was still securely locked and the catlike smugness in her smile. 

“I’d say we do,” she replied. “You must have noticed that the curse is broken.” 

“Aye, that I did. The curse you told us we would never break. I suppose that is interesting.” 

Irritation flashed across Zelena’s features, just for a second but he was watching too closely to miss it. “Yes,” she said. “You’ve done me quite a favour, you and your wife.” 

“Have we? Things seem to have changed remarkably little for you.” 

Zelena’s smile slipped again, for longer this time. “Breaking the curse released all its magic,” she spat. “It’s free now and it’s everywhere. There’s no escape from it.” 

Killian fought to keep his own face from revealing anything. That was exactly what Emma had said. Its magic is everywhere. 

“And yet, you’re still in a cell,” he pointed out. 

Zelena snarled and he felt the air surge again. This time he was prepared for it, with his feet well-braced. It was rather like standing on the deck of a ship in reverse, he thought. On a ship the sea moved beneath him and here the air moved around him, but the rolling waves and the importance of keeping a wide stance with one’s feet firmly planted remained the same. Zelena’s lip curled in a snarl when he teetered but did not fall, and when the air ceased moving a moment later she fell back against the wall with a little huff. 

She can affect the magic, Killian thought, but she can’t properly use it and the effort tires her. That’s good to know.  

But where the devil was Emma? 

White smoke swirled up just behind him and Emma appeared as though his thoughts had conjured her, wearing the darkest scowl Killian had ever seen on her face. Another surge of magic waved outward from Zelena’s cell, quick as the lash of a whip and giving Emma no time to brace against it. She threw up her hands in a makeshift shield but she was not quite quick enough to block the whole wave and she stumbled backwards, just for a moment—before Killian even had time to react she had righted herself and spun about to face Zelena. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she snapped. 

“Whatever do you mean, dear?” asked Zelena, outwardly calm once again. 

“What are you trying to do with the curse magic?” Emma demanded. “How are you even touching it?” 

“It’s my magic,” Zelena hissed. “Did you really believe you could just cut me off from it?”

Something flashed in Emma’s eyes and her lips curled into a smile Killian recognised as highly dangerous. “There’s a thought,” she said. 

“Well you’ll have no time to think it,” sneered Zelena. 

A startled shout sounded from the hallway and Neal appeared, sliding on his back along the floor as a force invisible to Killian’s eyes dragged him by his ankle. Killian darted forward to help him but the moment his balance shifted he felt the magic in the air grab him, felt a crushing pressure on his chest as he was hauled backwards and slammed hard against the bars of Zelena’s cell. Dazed and winded from the impact, he drew a wheezing breath and shook his head to clear it, only vaguely aware as seconds later Neal was flung against the bars next to him, choking and gasping for air, his fingers scrabbling uselessly at his neck. 

When Killian’s vision cleared he looked up to see Emma charging towards him, fury snapping in her eyes as she used her own magic to push through the sucking resistance of the force that tried to hold her back. Their gazes met and Killian could read her intentions perfectly in her determined glare and the set of her jaw; he knew her far too well to think even for a second that she might do anything other than what she now intended. She meant to save him and damn the cost, but if she went for him first it would be too late. 

Which was precisely what Zelena was counting on. 

“No, Swan,” he gasped, “Neal! Save Neal!” 

Zelena cackled. “You’ll have to choose, Saviour,” she spat. “You’ve no time to save both. But the moment you release me from your shielding spell, I’ll release them.”

Emma’s eyebrows drew together and she looked sharply at Neal, whose face had gone mottled purple as he struggled for air. As difficult as breathing was for Killian, it was plain to him that for Neal it was far more so. He was choking to death and had mere seconds left. 

“Protection… spell,” he ground out, trusting that Emma would understand.

She did. Relief washed over him as she nodded and shifted direction, heading instead for Neal. Zelena snarled and Killian could feel the force around him shifting, the pressure on his chest lessening. Zelena couldn’t maintain such a strong hold on to him while also keeping Emma away from Neal, he realised, and he could see the moment the same realisation struck Emma. With a furious shout she sent a burst of magic from her hands that burned clean through the curse magic, blazing an open path to Neal. 

Zelena gave a cackle, triumphant on its face but with desperation ringing through. “Careful, Saviour,” she hissed. “One wrong move and he dies!” 

Emma was frowning in concentration. She appeared to be feeling with her magic, Killian thought, probing at the force that was choking Neal in search of weaknesses. 

“You’re right,” she conceded, with what he considered to be remarkable calm. “I don’t know how you’re influencing the magic like this, but I can’t untangle it without killing him. This, though,” she held up her hand and the subtle knife appeared in a swirl of smoke upon its palm. “This can.” 

Zelena screeched in fury as Emma held the knife out with its sharp edge pointing downwards and with a single strong, controlled movement slashed through the air, severing nothing that Killian could see but Neal fell to the ground in a heap, clutching his chest as he sucked in huge gulps of air. In the same instant Killian realised that the pressure on his own chest was gone, that the air had shifted again, shoring up the space between Zelena and the door of her cell as Emma slowly turned to face her. 

~

Robin strode along the footpath through the forest, his pace brisk and his steps sure. His bow and quiver were slung across his shoulder and Regina had to admit, wanted to admit after having wasted far too much time already in denying it, that his whole ‘rugged outdoorsman’ thing really did it for her. She hadn’t felt such simple animal attraction to anyone since—she winced as a spear of something that felt uncomfortably like guilt lanced her heart—since Graham. 

She squirmed a bit before she could stop herself, and though neither Henry nor Robin was looking at her she adjusted her jacket and smoothed its lapels, wishing she could smooth away her conscience as easily. The thing was a damned nuisance, always pestering her with reminders of the terrible things she’d done, and all she had to atone for. It would keep doing that, according to Killian, until she’d made an effort to redress her wrongs. Regina grimaced. Graham was one of those wrongs, she knew, and she knew that there were consequences she would have to face—wanted to face, she reminded herself, she was genuinely tired of being a villain—for killing him. 

But not just yet. Right now there were more pressing matters that needed her attention. 

The path dipped, steeply and without warning, and the light through the trees shifted. It shimmered along the description of a downward curve, as if reflected off the edge of a blade, and when its arc was completed they found themselves standing in a wide clearing where the sunlight was dappled through shifting leaves and the ground a riot of colour. 

“This is it,” said Robin, gesturing. “This is where I picked the flowers I brought you.” 

Regina knelt and plucked a blossom from the ground, the twin of the one she had selected from Robin’s bouquet. “A mist lily,” she said, examining the trumpet-shaped head with its soft blue-grey petals, bobbing atop a slender stem. “I thought it was.” 

“What’s a mist lily?” asked Henry. 

“Just a flower.” Regina stood again and offered it to him. “It has no special properties, except that it only grows in the Enchanted Forest.” 

Henry’s eyes went wide. “The Enchanted Forest!” he exclaimed. 

Regina smiled. “Yes. This is the Enchanted Forest. Well, part of it anyway. I’m not sure exactly where.” 

The trees surrounding the clearing were densely set, tall and wide and with thick-leaved branches that formed a canopy above their heads. It was impossible to see beyond it. 

“At a guess, I’d say we’re at the northwest edge of your kingdom,” said Robin, frowning at the forest floor and then up at the sky. “Where it borders the ogres’ land. About, oh, two or so days’ trek from your castle.” 

Regina felt a flutter in her belly. “How can you possibly know that?” she demanded. 

“Mom, he’s Robin Hood!” 

“Indeed.” Robin’s smile edged into a smirk, one she would dearly love to kiss off his face. “I’m an excellent tracker, as you know, and the first rule of tracking is to know where you’re starting from.” 

“So cool,” breathed Henry. “Can you teach me how to do that?” 

“Of course, if you wish. Though I think before we attempt to track anything through this forest I’d like to know exactly how we got here.” 

“Ah,” said Regina with a smirk of her own. “That is the question. I believe…” she turned back to the path behind them and peered closely at the way the light hung in the air. “I believe this is a portal.” 

It was a thin, neat slice through nothing, no wider than the breadth of a hair and invisible at most angles. Approaching from the correct one, however, one could simply step through it, out of one world and into another. 

“But how?” Henry frowned as he circled it, poked his head through then pulled it back again. 

“Unless I’m very much mistaken,” replied Regina, “it was cut by the subtle knife.” 

“The knife Zelena had!” 

“The very one. This is how she got the curse magic from the Enchanted Forest and into Storybrooke. And,” she added, her lips curving into a triumphant, vicious smile, “it’s how we’re going to get it back out again.” 

~

Emma unlocked Zelena’s cell with a wave of her hand and stepped inside, still moving with some difficulty through the magic-thickened air, but more easily than before. Zelena was weakening, Killian thought. Pushing against Emma’s shielding spell to manipulate the curse magic was exhausting her. 

Emma halted a foot or two in front of the cot where Zelena still reclined. Her previously triumphant pose now much more closely resembled cowering, Killian remarked, despite her attempts at bravado.

“I wanted to give you a chance, you know,” said Emma. “A chance to change and redeem your mistakes. The same chance we offered Regina. The same chance everyone deserves, at least once.” Though she wasn’t looking at him, Killian felt her words powerfully, deep in his heart. 

“But,” Emma continued, “you refused that chance, again and again, and now it’s obvious that you can’t be trusted not to keep trying to harm us, even when you’re behind a shielding spell. There’s nothing I can do, no magic I can use that will keep my family safe from you. You’ve made it so my only option is to kill you, and that I won’t do.” 

“Because you’re weak,” snarled Zelena. “Too weak to do what’s necessary.” 

“The fact that you think that,” said Emma calmly, “is your weakness.” 

She raised the knife again and probed the air with it, feeling for something Killian could not perceive—but Zelena could. For the first time he saw genuine fear in her eyes as it began to dawn on her what Emma intended. 

“No!” she cried, leaping up off the cot. “No… you can’t! You wouldn’t! You wouldn’t!” 

An expression of grim determination settled on Emma’s face as she located what she had been seeking with the point of the knife. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I wish there was another way.” 

“No—” Zelena’s cry was cut off as Emma made another slashing motion with the knife, a single short downward thrust. Zelena gasped, a heartrending sound of pain and unspeakable loss, then collapsed onto the floor, her eyes gaping wide in shock and horror. 

The sucking resistance in the air was gone, Killian realised, replaced by buzzing noise that started low then grew perceptibly louder as the air itself began to vibrate. “Emma—” he began, but he was cut of by Zelena’s shriek of pure rage. 

“What have you done?” she howled. “What have you done? My magic… my magic—” 

There was sorrow in Emma’s eyes, and a deep compassion, but no remorse. “You’ll never touch your magic again,” she said. “I’ve cut your link to it forever. The subtle knife can cut anything, you know.” 

“You’ve ruined me! You bitch, you—” 

“I did what I had to do to keep the people I love safe from you,” snapped Emma. “You would never have stopped trying to hurt us. Now you can’t.” 

“Swan.” Killian reached cautiously into the cell, dizzy and discombobulated by the increasingly frantic vibrations that surrounded them. He slipped his hook around Emma’s arm, holding tight to the bars with his hand. “Love—what’s happened to the magic?” 

Emma allowed him to tug her out of the cell and closed and locked the door behind them. She turned to him and frowned. “What do you mean—oh.” Her eyes went wide and she gripped Killian’s arm. “Oh. Shit.” 

The buzzing was deafening now and the vibrations frantic, pinpricks of magic crackling and snapping around them with electric vigour. 

“You can feel that?” asked Emma. 

“Aye, I think even my organs can feel it.” 

“It’s like an army of chainsaws in my head,” groaned Neal, struggling to stand. Emma held out her hand to help him and Killian his hook, still keeping a tight hold on the bars of the cell to balance all three of them. “What is it?”

“It’s the curse magic,” Emma replied. “It’s sort of—untethered. But it’s been that way since the curse broke, I don’t know why it’s acting this way now.” 

As she spoke purple smoke swirled and Regina appeared, flanked by Henry and Robin. “I think I can answer that,” she said, turning to glare at her sister where she lay slumped on the floor of her cell. 

“Hah,” said Zelena, with an attempt at her old sneer. “I’d love to see you try.” 

“As would I,” said Killian. “Sooner rather than later, love, before we all turn to liquid.” 

Regina shifted her glare to him, then began to explain. “We already know that this curse is not like the last one,” she said, and Emma nodded. “Zelena patched it together out of a hodgepodge of different magics, some of which should never have met. That’s what made the curse so unstable. And now that all of that disparate magic is loose it’s clashing and reacting, and that’s what we—what all of us, I guess—can feel.” 

“So what are we going to do about it?” asked Emma. 

“Storybrooke is too small to hold all of it safely,” said Regina. “It’s stuck within the boundaries of the town and there’s just too much of it. We need to send it somewhere where it has room to disperse, and the different kinds of magic can repel away from each other. We need to send it back to the Enchanted Forest.” 

Killian scowled. “How the bloody hell do we manage that?”

Regina shot him another glare. “There’s a portal in the woods, one that Zelena must have used to cast the curse in the first place. One cut by the subtle knife.” She and Emma exchanged a significant glance. “Robin found it.” 

“Stumbled upon it, more like,” said Robin. 

“But what does that mean?” Killian pressed. 

“It means we have an outlet,” said Emma, and Regina nodded. “We can funnel the magic through that portal and out of Storybrooke.” 

“Exactly.” 

“But then, how do we close the portal? Oisín said only the knife bearer can do that, and—” 

“We’ll have to worry about that another time,” said Regina. “Once the magic is back in the Enchanted Forest it won’t be a danger to us anymore, and I can make a temporary patch to block the portal. It’s not a permanent solution but it’s the best we’ve got, and we have to move fast. The longer we wait the more dangerous the magic will become. We need to do this now.” 

“Okay,” said Emma. “You go back to this portal, then. I’ll gather the magic here and send it to you, and you funnel it out. Does that work?” 

Regina nodded. “It should.” 

“Um.” Emma frowned. “How do we—do you have something, like a signal or something to let me know where exactly you are?” 

“Take this.” Killian withdrew the broken compact mirror from his jacket pocket. “You still have the other half?” he asked Regina. 

“I do.” Regina took the mirror’s twin from her own pocket. “These should work perfectly.” She waved her hand over both mirrors. “I’ve modified the spell so they’ll act like beacons. Once you have the magic under control, press your thumb on this mirror—” she handed Killian’s half to Emma “—and my mirror will send up a signal to show you exactly where I am.” 

“Got it.” 

“Okay.” Regina flexed her fingers. “Are we ready?” 

“I’m coming with you.” They all turned to stare at Robin, who looked alarmed at the ferocity on their faces. 

“I don’t think there’s much you can do to help,” said Regina. 

“Perhaps not, but I’d prefer it if you weren’t alone,” he replied, and Regina’s expression softened to an almost girlish smile. Killian exchanged a glance with Emma, who just shook her head. Henry beamed. 

“All right,” said Emma. “Regina and er—” 

“Robin Hood.” 

“Right. Regina and Robin, um, Hood will go to the woods and make sure the magic gets through the portal. I’ll collect it and send it to them and the rest of you—” she glared at Neal and at Henry, and finally at Killian, narrowing her eyes. “The rest of you stay out of my way.” 

~

Flanked by his fellow dwarves and trailed by the Merry Men, Grumpy burst through the doors of the Rabbit Hole and headed down the street.

“We’ll go to Granny’s,” he said. “Gather a nice mob. Then we’ll hunt down the Evil Queen and this time she’ll get what’s coming to her.”

The dwarves chimed in a chorus of agreement but from the Merry Men it more resembled concerned muttering.

“A mob sounds like the wrong kind of justice,” said Little John. “Are you even sure it was the Queen?”

“Of course I am,” snarled Grumpy. “Who else would it be?”

“Well—”

“It was her,” Grumpy declared as they turned into Granny’s outdoor seating area. “It’s always her. Trust me.” 

The door to the diner swung open with a cheerful chime of its bell and Snow and Charming emerged, she with a wide, delighted smile and he with his arms crossed firmly over his chest.

“It’s so good to see you all!” cried Snow.

“But you’re all going to need to turn around and go back home,” said Charming.

“Home?” growled Grumpy. “I don’t think so, Your Highness. We were cursed, again, and we’re going to make sure that this time is the last.”

“Oh we will make sure of that. But if your plan is to go after Regina I’m going to need you to rethink it. Regina didn’t cast this curse.”

“Ha,” said Little John, earning him a glare from the irate dwarf. 

“Well then who did?” he demanded. 

Charming’s expression was grim. “Zelena.”

“Zelena!” echoed Grumpy, as voices rose around him, dwarves and Merry Men all speaking at once. 

“What, the mayor?”

“Ex-mayor.”

“Why would she curse us?” 

“What does she get out of it?” 

“Who was she in our world, anyway?”

“I don’t know, I don’t remember her.”

“She was the Wicked Witch of the West,” said Charming, raising his voice above the din.

“Like from Oz?” called Will Scarlet. 

“How do you know?” Grumpy demanded. 

“Emma told us,” said Snow, smiling proudly. “She figured it out.” 

“Oh yeah? And where’s Emma now?”

“Dealing with the witch, we hope,” said Charming with a scowl. “Look, why don’t you all come inside and we’ll tell you everything we know.”

~

The magic snapped through the air, almost snarling in its growing fury. Emma focused her attention on it, clearing her mind as she concentrated on it, on feeling it and reaching out to it. Its jagged shards sliced at her, and though she knew the pain she felt wasn’t physical that didn't stop her feeling it. The others felt it too, she reminded herself, less acutely than she did but it still hurt them. She needed to get this magic gone before it could cause any real damage. 

Closing her eyes, she stretched her senses as far as they could go, feeling for the magic as it spread through Storybrooke, catching it and gathering it together, weaving it securely into a shape that could easily be sent to Regina. It was not unlike trying to wrestle angry cats into a sack and though her attention was entirely focused on her task she was grateful for Killian’s calming presence, close beside her with his hand rubbing circles on her back. She reached out blindly and gripped his hook, clutching it to keep herself grounded as she pulled the last bits of the magic together. 

“Okay,” she gasped. “I’ve got it.” 

Killian handed her the mirror and she pressed her thumb against it. Seconds later it buzzed as the magic that linked it to its twin formed a connection. Not an especially strong one—a bit like two tin cans joined by a string—but strong enough tho show her where to send the magic. She pointed it in the right direction and then with a mental heave she flung it away, imagining the sack of angry cats sailing through the air towards Regina and becoming her problem. 

She could feel the moment Regina took control of the curse magic and when she was certain it was not going to get loose again she let it go, stumbling a bit at the release of her burden and leaning into Killian’s arms when he caught her. He hugged her tight and stroked her hair as she breathed a heavy sigh into his shoulder. 

“Is it done then, love?” he asked, his voice low in her ear. 

She nodded. “It’s up to Regina now.” 

~

Regina and Robin stood in Storybrooke’s woods, one on each side of the portal’s slender arc, waiting. 

Robin had his bow in hand, not fully drawn but with an arrow nocked and at the ready. A gust of wind rose up, sending leaves swirling around them and he tensed, his eyes sharp on the path before them.  

“You think arrows are going to help against magic?” sneered Regina, then immediately wished she hadn’t. The snarky attitude she wore like a cloak had become simple habit, born of anxiety and the need to appear strong, but she didn’t truly wish to be so nasty. Not to him.  

“I’m sorry,” she said, and suppressed a smirk at his look of surprise. “I’m worried, and that makes me snappish. But I shouldn’t take my feelings out on you.” 

“You have nothing to worry about,” he replied, with such earnestness she gaped at him. He smiled. “You forget I’ve seen your magic firsthand, Your Majesty,” he said. “I have no doubt you can perform this task with ease.” 

His simple faith in her despite the hesitancy and uncertain tension that still hung between them warmed Regina to her very depths and made her wish that she were better at feelings. “Robin, I—” she began, and then felt the mirror in her pocket grow hot. “I—I think it’s time.” 

She removed the mirror and pressed her thumb against it to answer Emma’s call. The mirror buzzed faintly in her hand as it linked with its counterpart and a moment later Regina saw the curse magic winding its way towards them from the direction of Storybrooke, woven into a tight and impressively tidy rope. Oisín had clearly met with more success in teaching Emma how to use magic than she herself had, Regina thought. 

She reached out with her own magic, stable tendrils of it pulled through the portal from the Enchanted Forest, and took control of the rope. There was a moment of tension when both she and Emma held it at once, then Emma released her end and Regina stumbled at the abrupt shift. Instantly Robin was there, catching her before she could fall and keeping a steady hand on her arm as she wrestled the snapping and writhing magic through the portal. 

As soon as the tail end of the rope had gone she released it from her hold and followed it, slipping cautiously through the narrow opening with Robin keeping a secure grip on her had from the other side, and watched anxiously to see how the magic would react to its new surroundings. For the space of several heartbeats nothing happened, but then slowly, almost cautiously, the rope began to unravel. It uncoiled itself, picking up speed when it met with no resistance, spreading out as far as it could, all the disparate magics skittering away from each other and dissipating into the atmosphere. 

Regina exhaled in relief then drew a deep breath, full of the familiar scents of her homeland, and felt a tiny twinge of melancholy. Someday she should probably go back to the Enchanted Forest again, she thought, to fix the ravages her curse—and likely now Zelena’s curse—had wrought upon it. But not today. 

She stepped back through the portal and wove a protection spell around it, to prevent anyone from stumbling through it by accident as Robin had. 

If it had truly been an accident. Regina had some theories on that subject. 

She turned to Robin, who was smiling softly. “Well done,” he said. “I knew you could do it.” 

She felt herself flush under his praise. “I had help,” she replied with a small shrug, surprised to realise that the modesty was genuine. She would never have managed to defeat Zelena or break the curse all on her own. Without Emma and Henry, and perhaps most of all Killian—she would have been trapped forever in the special hell her sister had made for her. More surprising still was the realisation that working with them had been... nice. Nice to have people on her side, sharing her burdens, nice not to have to handle everything alone. Nice to have friends.   

She shook her head at the foolish thought. They were far from calling each other friends, she and Emma and Killian—it was a long path to friendship from ‘reluctant allies,’ after all—and yet Regina had a stirring of a suspicion, a tiny fragile bud of a feeling, that someday this might actually become a reality. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a real friend. 

“Speaking of which, we should get back to the station and make sure they’re all okay,” she said, taking up her magic again. “Are you ready?” 

Robin nodded. “Always.” 

~

@katie-dub​​​​​​ @kmomof4​​​​​​ @teamhook​​​​ @stahlop​​​​​​ @mariakov81​​​​​​ @snowbellewells​ @thejollyroger-writer​​​ @jennjenn615​​​ @tiganasummertree​​​ @lfh1226-linda​​​​ @winterbaby89​​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​

[swanqueeneverafter]

Sins of the Past Pt.9

Camelot. Present. Morgana's Chambers. (Morgana hurriedly returns to her chambers through a back passageway.) Guinevere: (Calling from outside the door:) "My Lady?" (Morgana looks down at her muddy cloak and tosses it behind her bed just as Guinevere enters.) Guinevere: "I saw the light, wanted to make sure you were alright." Morgana: "I’m fine." Guinevere: "You were missed at the festival today, the people of Camelot are eager to welcome you back." Morgana: "They have already waited ten years, I'm sure they can manage without me for a little while longer." Guinevere: (Smiles:) "Of course. Will you be joining us for dinner in Storybrooke?" Morgana: (Hesitates:) "I think not. After a day re-familiarizing myself with the castle, I'm really quite tired." Guinevere: "I'll leave you to rest then. Would you like-" Morgana: (Steps back:) "Guin, you are queen now. You helping me undress would just be embarrassing for both of us." Guinevere: "I really don't mind, it wouldn't be any trouble." Morgana: (A sharper tone:) "I’ll prepare myself for bed. (Making her tone light again:) Goodnight, Guin." Morgana: "Goodnight, My Lady." (Guinevere leaves.)

Camelot. Past. Forest. (Morgana sneaks out of the castle at night to meet Morgause in the woods.) Morgause: “You look well.” Morgana: “Thanks to you. (Morgana touches the enchanted bracelet Morgause gave her:) I wear it all the time. I can’t remember when I last had a bad dream.” Morgause: “But you do not seem happy. Why is that?” Morgana: “I would be if I didn’t have to pretend.” Morgause: “Pretend?” Morgana: “That I’m Uther’s loving daughter when I hate him.” Morgause: “Have you ever imagined a new world, Morgana? One where Uther was no more?” Morgana: “Sometimes.” Morgause: “And is that what you’d like?” Morgana: “I once had the chance to be his assassin.” Morgause: “And what stopped you?” Morgana: “I don’t know. I believe he cared for me. But not anymore. He cares for no one.” Morgause: “So, you want Uther destroyed and his reign to end?” Morgana: “More than anything. But it doesn’t matter what I want. The future’s not of my making.” Morgause: “You are wrong, Morgana. You underestimate your importance. The decisions you make now will change the shape of everything that is to come.” Morgana: “What do you mean?” Morgause: “Whose side are you on, Morgana? Are you with Uther? Or are you with me? Are you prepared to help me bring about his downfall?” Morgana: “I am.” Morgause: (Reaching out to stroke Morgana’s face:) “I can’t tell you how much it means to hear you say that.” 

Storybrooke. Present. Swan-Mills House. (Tired, sore and covered in mud, Mrs & Mrs Swan-Mills arrive home victorious, carrying their trophy between them.) Regina: "Well, that worked out nicely." Emma: (Closing the front door:) "It did, didn't it?" Regina: "Although technically I still think I won. It was my horse who crossed the finish line first." Emma: "Hey, tell it to the judges, their decision is final." Regina: "Hm." Emma: "You heard them, it was a dead heat. Too close to call! Take the win, Regina. Anyway, I should be the one that's upset. I don't get to see your Lady Godiva moment now." Regina: "No, but I do still want to see you wearing that necklace tonight. So how about a compromise?" Emma: (Gasps in mock surprise:) "You? Mayor Mills, compromise? The hell you say." Regina: "It's Swan-Mills, and yes. Interested?" Emma: "I don't know... it’s a pretty ugly necklace. Your compromise had better be good." Regina: "What if, instead of heading back to the stables, I take off all my clothes right now, jump on your back and ride you around every room of this house?" Emma: (Laughing:) "The image I have in my head right now is so ridiculous. (Tries to control her giggles when seeing the slightly hurt look on Regina's face:) I'm sorry, it's just..." Regina: "Forget I said anything." Emma: (Reaching out and taking her hand:) "Wait. Please wait. (Composing herself:) Now, it's not the craziest idea I've heard." Regina: "Only the funniest, evidently." Emma: "Well, yeah, and I know you meant it to be sexy but, maybe with a couple of tweaks, it could be very, very hot." Regina: (Still annoyed:) "I'm open to suggestions." Emma: (Smiles:) "Okay, well, I have zero problem with the you getting naked part. That part I love. But how about instead of my back, you jump into my arms and, (Waving her hand, Emma envelops herself in a cloud of smoke. When it clears, Emma stands naked but for a few hefty straps at her waist. Smirking as Regina's eyes are immediately drawn to the appendage now bobbing between her legs:) I give you the ride of your life?" Regina: (Still transfixed:) "Well, there's only one thing I can think to say. (Using her own magic to shed her clothes:) Giddy up!" A Short While Later. (Reclined in each others arms in the bath tub, Regina and Emma discuss the night's plans.) Emma: "Do I really have to wear that thing to dinner?" Regina: "Not if we don't go." Emma: "Mom wants us there." Regina: "Then yes, you have to wear it." Emma: "What if she asks why I'm wearing it and not you?" Regina: "You tell her the truth. You lost a bet." Emma: (Smiling up at her:) "If you call this losing, I can't imagine what winning feels like." Regina: "Well don't ask your father, he wouldn't know what winning felt like either." Emma: (Chuckles:) "All right, you asked for this." (With much splashing and screams of delight, Regina and Emma take turns dunking each other under the surface, causing huge waves of water to spill over the edge of the tub and onto the tiled floor below.)

Storybrooke. Main Street. (While the festivities of the day begin to wind down and the crowds slowly disperse, Henry takes a break from driving to stretch his legs. When passing by someone clearly from Wonderland, Henry feels compelled to reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. However, as he's about to dial Ella's number, he stops himself, remembering that there are no cell towers in Wonderland. Looking up from his phone, he spots a familiar face sitting alone on a bench.) Henry: “Drizella?” Drizella: (Sniffles, wiping her eyes:) “Oh. I'm sorry. I don't remember calling a taxi.” Henry: “Funny. You’re here for the festival?” Drizella: (Nods:) “If I had known it was going to be a celebration of the Charmings and the Swan-Mills’ I might not have bothered.” Henry: “Try living with them.” Drizella: “Ooh, trouble in paradise?” Henry: (Taking a seat beside her:) “Alright, that was a little unfair, but sometimes it can get a little annoying - living in their shadow I mean.” Drizella: “Tell me about it. At least you weren’t overshadowed by your sister all your life. (Thinks:) Oh wait, don’t you have a little sister now?” Henry: “I think you know I do. Judging by the amount of gifts my moms received, I doubt there’s one person in all the united realms who doesn’t know about my sister.” Drizella: “And so it begins.” Henry: “It’s not like that at all. I love Maria and I’m thrilled to be a big brother.” Drizella: “Just give it time.” Henry: (Shaking his head:) “Speaking of which, where’s your sister, Anastasia?” Drizella: "Oh, probably off somewhere moping. Torturing herself over her past as the Red Queen. I mean, it's not like it happened recently, it was for a very brief period thirty years ago. I wish she’d just get over it already." Henry: "Well to be fair to Anastasia, it was very recent to her mind." Drizella: "Oh please, not the resurrection again. You know people always talk about that but they never seem to remember that I was encased in stone for roughly the same amount of time." Henry: "That had to be a hard time for you." Drizella: (Smiles, despite herself:) "Ha. Ha. (Sighs:) Look at us, sat in the middle of a festival throwing our own little pity party." Henry: "Yeah, Ella would've loved this." Drizella: "Is that your little dream girl?" Henry: "She came from the Dream Realm, yes." Drizella: "So where is she now?" Henry: "Searching for her mother." Drizella: (Scoffs:) "If she's also looking for her mother's approval, she'll be gone a long time. Trust me, I speak from experience." Henry: "Well the good thing is you haven't let it effect you. I mean it's not like you released an ancient immortal creature and a dust cloud filled with hate over the land just to prove yourself to your dead mother." Drizella: (Pursing her lips:) "Exactly." Henry: "Cause that would've been crazy." Drizella: "This from the son of the woman who conjured the Dark Curse?" Henry: "Touche. At least you're not the only one on this bench with baggage." Drizella: "Okay, then. So, how do we get rid of it. The baggage." Henry: "Take a chance? Do the scary thing? Hope it all works out." Drizella: "Is that what you call what you’re doing with Ella? The 'scary thing'?" Henry: "I don't know. I'm just figuring it out, same as you." Drizella: "Well, I for one need a drink." Henry: "Good idea." Drizella: "So, come on." Henry: "What?" Drizella: (Squints:) "You are legally allowed to drink now, aren't you?" Henry: "Yeah." Drizella: "Well, let's go!" (Hesitating for a moment, Henry looks down at his phone, then puts it in his pocket. Standing, he and Drizella walk together in search of the nearest bar. From a short distance away, Tiana watches them leave, with a troubled look upon her face.) Wonderland. Night. Will and Ella’s Campsite. (Will lays on the floor with his arms crossed attempting to sleep while Ella stands, turning the necklace over and over in her hand.) Will: “Please go to sleep.” Ella: “I can't. You sleep.” Will: “How can I sleep if you insist on thinking so loudly?” Ella: “What you said before... maybe you were right. Maybe she's moved on.”

Will: (Sitting up:) “I'm sorry, Ella. I put that terrible idea in your head. Don't listen to me, I don't know nothing about it. Do you believe that she truly loves you?” Ella: “I did.” Will: “Well, that's good then. Because when somebody truly loves you, they can never move on. It’s like you said, you don’t need any proof.” Ella: “That’s true, but it's still nice to have.” Will: (Sighs:) “As much as I’m going to regret this, as your guide on this little journey, it is my duty to help you in any way I can. So, if you want proof, proof you shall have.” Ella: “What are you talking about?” Will: “I’m talking about finding a way to prove your mother is still out there somewhere.” Ella: “And how do you propose we do that?” Will: “That’s for me to know and you to find out. Tomorrow. After a good solid night’s sleep. Deal?” Ella: (Smiling:) “Deal.” Forest of Balor. Caves. (Mulan and Ruby walk through the caves carrying torches.) Ruby: "There they are." (The flowers they seek are across a large gap with a narrow ledge and long drop. Mulan looks down.) Mulan: "Keep back from the edge. Don’t worry. We’ll be out of here soon.” (Walking carefully over the ledge, Mulan heads toward the Mortaeus flower growing on the cave wall. The cave begins to rumble, but seemingly nothing comes of it. Reaching the flower, Mulan grabs it and puts it in a pouch on her belt, then makes her way back to Ruby.) Ruby: “Well that was easy.” Mulan: “A little too easy.” Lord Macintosh: “You’re right. (Ruby and Mulan turn to face him:) I’m afraid I can’t allow you to leave here with that.” Mulan: “Macintosh. So it was you who poisoned the goblet!” Lord Macintosh: “I don’t know what you mean, Lassie. All I know is with Merida gone, that makes me the rightful ruler of all Dun Broch.” Mulan: “Over my dead body.” Lord Macintosh: “Aye, I thought you might say something like that.” (Turning, Macintosh motions towards the darkness where several of his men emerge. Mulan draws her sword.) Ruby: “Mulan, no. We don’t have time for this.” Mulan: “I don’t think they’re going to give us much choice.” Lord Macintosh: “Surrender the flower and no harm will come to you.” Mulan: “So I give up the flower and you’ll let us go?” Lord Macintosh: “As the new King of Dun Broch, I give you my word.” Mulan: “You aren’t King yet. Quick, Ruby, hand me your cloak.” Ruby: “What?” Mulan: “You’re right, we don’t have much time. (As Ruby removes her cloak, Mulan places the flower carefully inside:) I need you to transform.” Ruby: (Realising the plan:) “Oh no, I’m not leaving you.” Mulan: (Folding the cloak:) “You have to. You have to get the flower back to Storybrooke before it’s too late. (Reluctantly, Ruby does as she’s told and transforms into the wolf. Macintosh and his men recoil at the sight. Placing Ruby’s cloak into the wolf’s mouth:) Take it and go!” (With a low growl, the wolf paws at the ground and leaps toward Macintosh’s men. Desperately clinging to the walls to get out of the wolf’s path, Macintosh looks on helplessly as it runs from the cave and out of sight.)

Storybrooke. The Dragon's Lair. (Sitting down to dinner, Emma looks around the restaurant, clearly agitated.) Emma: "Great, now everyone's staring." Regina: "Well who could blame them? I often find myself staring at my beautiful wife." Emma: "They're starting at this ridiculous thing around my neck! (Regina promptly hides her face behind her menu. Narrowing her eyes:) You know if I had won, there's no way I would’ve had you embarrass yourself in public." Regina: (Lowering her menu:) "Do you think I'd have anything to be embarrassed about if you did?" (Knowing she's been out maneuvered, Emma quickly changes the subject.) Emma: (Picking up her own menu:) "There's just so much good stuff to choose from. (Still feeling Regina's eyes on her, Emma looks around for a distraction. As Maleficent walks by their table:) Mal, what would you recommend?" Maleficent: (Without missing a beat:) "A stylist." (At this, Regina bursts out laughing while Emma glares at Maleficent's back.) Emma: (As Regina continues to laugh:) "Oh, shut up. (Looking over Regina's shoulder:) Wait a minute. Is that Henry?" Regina: (Turns in her seat:) "Yes it is." Emma: "Who's that he's with?" Henry's Table. (Drizella returns to the table with a bottle.) Henry: "What's this?" Drizella: "Something better than the cheap antifreeze you're used to drinking." Regina & Emma's Table. (Emma's eyes widen in recognition.) Emma: "Drizella? What the hell's going on?" (Regina puts a hand on Emma's arm to stop her making a scene.) Regina: "Calm down, we don't know what the situation is." Emma: "The situation is that Henry let Ella go to Wonderland alone so he could go on a date with Drizella!" Regina: "Would you keep your voice down! I'm sure it's not as bad as it looks." Emma: “Since when did you start giving people the benefit of the doubt?” Regina: "Since you did the same for me all those years ago. Need I remind you that's our son you're accusing? Now sit down and let me handle this." Emma: (When Regina returns to her menu:) "Well?!" Regina: "I'll go over there after we've ordered. I seem to have worked up quite the appetite." Emma: (Looking over Regina's shoulder again:) "Yeah well if you don't get over there soon, I'm going to lose mine." Regina: (Under her breath:) "And your mind." Emma: "What?" Regina: (Smiling sweetly:) "Nothing."

Camelot. Past. Council Chamber. (Uther dines as Morgana enters with tear stained cheeks.) Morgana: "I have come to apologise, My Lord. You have been generous and kind and fair. And I owe you everything. I truly don’t know what came over me." (Uther stands and rushes to meet Morgana. He embraces her with tears of joy.) Uther: "I am so glad you’ve seen sense. Come, dine with me. Let’s put this unfortunate incident behind us." Morgana: "No, no. I am on my way to the chapel, to pray forgiveness for my sins." Uther: "Of course." Morgana: (She wipes his tears away with a handkerchief:) "I don’t know why you put up with me. But I promise, in the future I will show you the love and respect that you deserve." (Morgana walks away, smirking.) Forest. Night. (Morgana leaves the castle and rides to a cave guarded by the Bloodguard.) Morgause: “My sister. How have you fared?” Morgana: “Uther has welcomed back his daughter with open arms.” Morgause: “Uther does not suspect?” Morgana: “He laps up my lies like the snivelling dog that he is. He believes I’ve changed. And he’s right. Soon he will see exactly how much.” Morgause: “You’ve done well. The tears of Uther Pendragon have only begun to fall.” (Morgause drops the handkerchief with Uther’s tears into a giant cauldron filled with boiling liquid and adds a large root. The root screams and Morgana flinches:) The mandrake root is very special. Only those with magic can hear its cries. But for those without magic, the mandrake pierces the very recesses of the soul, twisting the unconscious into the very image of fear and dread. Uther Pendragon will find that his great kingdom counts for nothing, when he has lost his mind. (She begins an incantation:) Mid þæm wundorcræft þæs ealdan æwþ ic þe hate nime Utheres wopdropan ond þa gemengan mid his blod. Sy he under wittig ond deofol seocnes his heorte afylþ.” (Morgause’s eye glow. She pulls out the muddy root and hands it to Morgana.)

Storybrooke. Present. The Dragon's Lair. (Guinevere sits alone at the bar deep in thought when Snow White joins her.) Snow White: "Guinevere. You look troubled." Guinevere: (Smiles weakly:) "Just thinking about Morgana." Snow White: "Where is she? I thought we might see her today?" Guinevere: (Shakes her head:) "She didn't feel up to it. And I can hardly blame her, after all she's been through." Snow White: "Has she managed to tell you where she's been all these years?" Guinevere: "No, but I can only imagine the horrors she's seen." Henry & Drizella's Table. (Drizella pours Henry another drink.) Drizella: "Thanks for listening to me earlier, no one ever does that." Henry: "No problem. I know finding where you belong in this world can be hard." Drizella: "So what happened with you and Ella? Why didn't you go with her? Couldn't take a chance and do the scary thing after all, huh?" Henry: "It's complicated." Drizella: "Hm. (Picks up her glass:) Well, to keeping things uncomplicated." (They clink glasses. Having seen enough, Regina is about to break things up when there is a commotion outside.) Main Street. (David and Emma exit the restaurant first to find people running for their lives. Heading towards the source of the chaos they find a wolf growling and charging at the doors to the library.) David: (Noticing the familiar cloak laying in the moonlight:) "It's Ruby!" (Picking up the cloak, David moves carefully over to the animal and drapes the cloak over it. Transforming almost instantly, Ruby lifts her hood and grabs hold of David.) Ruby: "You have to help me, they've got Mulan!" (Emma and David look to each other in surprise while a crowd begins to gather around them.)

[guinevere-beck-fanboy]

Once Upon A Time Rant

Ok so I’m going to just have a rant about the ABC show that is Once Upon A Time. It had the potiential to be great but it falls very short.. In this post I will explain my issues with this show.

1. Captain Hook aka Killian Jones as a character

Just…. this guy in general. I find him just really unlikeable… I feel like he’s such a bland character and outside of the protagonist Emma Swan there isn’t much to him. In the first two seasons he was much bigger as a character but after awhile I feel like it was just all about Emma for him. And as for their actual relationship itself I just find it so… nauseating. I can’t put my finger on why but I really hated their dynamic.

In season 7 they have a new version of Hook (”Nook” they call him meaning “New Hook”) and ngl he was a bit more tolerable.. But still I had issues with the character. To give credit where it is due though he had a plotline with his daughter Alice that was much more watchable than Captain Swan (the relationship between him and Emma) and actually had other plotlines as well.

2. The toxicity of Killian and Captain Swan

So my next issue is also about Killian. I just really find him to be a really problematic character in addition to a badly written one.

Killian has murdered as far as we know 4 people, attempted to murder 2 people and raped seemingly more than one woman (Emma convinces Killian she is trying to have sex with him by flirting to which Killian comments “if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to get me drunk, which is usually my tactic”, getting someone drunk so you can have sex with them is rape). He’s a sketchy pirate and at one point does severe psychological damage to Belle (who is based on the character of the same name in Beauty and the Beast) by erasing her lifetime of memories. And he homewrecks a marriage and runs away with the wife, thus taking her away from her son. Just overall really scummy.

Now this by itself doesn’t make him a problematic character in my opinion. It makes him a bad guy, but a character being a bad person isn’t automatically a problematic character. Especially considering at the time Killian commits these acts he is portrayed as a villain so naturally all these acts are condemned by the narrative.

Here’s where it gets a bit off though…. They give him a redemption arc. That by itself isn’t the problem nececarily, but the way in which his redemption arc is written I just find to be very weak.

Killian as Captain Hook spends a lot of time in Neverland. In Neverland as we all know one doesn’t age. So because of that Killian is actually hundreds of years old and yet still looks like a young man. Killian’s redemption arc comes during his time being hundreds of years old…. So here’s the thing. If it takes someone a couple of centuries to no longer be a murderous, raping pirate… I mean… Is that really saying much? Most people only get the first about 80 - 100 years of their life and then thats it. Within those years Killian was murdering, raping and pirating people. If Killian’s life needs to be extended way past the natural limit for him to grow up and become a better person then that means had he lived a natural life like the rest of us than he wouldn’t have changed. He would have been the same old bastard till the end. Again if his life had to be that long for him to change, I don’t really think much credit is due.

Even as a redeemed villain Killian still manages to be a problematic character. He falls in love with Emma Swan and they go out with one another. In the sixth season an obstacle in their relationship appears: it turns out the one who murdered Emma’s father’s father was Killian. So Emma’s father, Prince Charming as a child lost his father and grew up fatherless because of Killian. Not only does Emma not get angry about this like at all (she gets angry that he tried to keep it a secret from her but not that he actually did it) but Charming is expected to just forgive him and get it over with. Later on Emma, Hook, Charming and Emma’s mother Snow White are looking for a place to hold Emma and Hook’s upcoming wedding (marrying the person who ruined your father’s childhood… I mean is it just me or is this kind of messed up?) Charming disses every venue much to Snow’s annoyance. She takes Charming aside and asks him what the hell is going on. Charming claims he doesn’t like that they are “rushing into this” and Snow just responds “is this about Hook? if so that ship has sailed, deal with it”… What? He’s not allowed to be mad that his daughter is marrying the guy that MURDERED HIS FATHER?! What the hell is this?!

So Emma and Hook get married live alongside Snow and Charming all happily ever after. This. Is. Insane.

3. Rumplestilstkin 

This character much like Killian is extremely toxic. He murders his ex wife in cold blood, sends her to be eternally tormented in the “River of Lost Souls” and enables an entire town to nearly be destroyed and all citizens in it to die. There’s so much more to that list but we’ll stop there for now. 

Like Killian Rumple has a redemption arc, AFTER HUNDREDS OF YEARS OF BEING ALIVE. If Rumple had just lived a naturally long life he’d have died as someone who had little to no remorse for these things. If he needs his life to be heavily extended to change into a better man, did he really change into a better man?

4. Rumbelle

Rumplestilstkin takes the role of the Beast from Beauty and the Beast in Once Upon A Time. So naturally Belle is his love interest and he hers. And oh boy, their dynamic is like the nightmare version of Beauty and the Beast. 

How do they meet? Rumple kidnaps Belle and makes her his slave. Yup. 

She kisses him so he aggressively grabs her, shakes her and throws her in a cell. He then releases her from captivity to avoid being in a relationship with her. 

Despite all this, they get together and their relationship (dubbed “Rumbelle” by fans) is portrayed as something positive... Like Rumple and Belle are supposed to be together.

In the second season Rumple tries to prevent Belle from reuniting with her father after years of seperation (not to mention they were seperated in the first place because of Rumple but whatever) by taking down missing posters she put up of him. Belle never finds out about this and Rumple keeps it secret. 

Oh in the fourth season Rumple has everyone in the show’s memories erased and placed into a false alternate dimension with new false memories and identities. Including Belle, who at the time had found love with another character named Will Scarlett. He makes Belle in love with him again in this new dimension. This is just... Really unsettling to me, I don’t like it. 

5. Swan Queen

Ok this isn’t so much about the show but rather a fanon ship called Swan Queen. A ship between Emma Swan and Regina Mills a major villain in the first three seasons who redeems herself in the fourth. This is one of the most popular ships in the fanbase and I just don’t like it. 

Regina seperated Emma from her parents when she was a baby, and she grew up an orphan in foster care living a miserable childhood. She tries to murder her mother multiple times and actually tries to kill Emma herself at one point... All this just makes me really against the idea of this relationship...

6. Captain Swan and Neal

Ok again this one is more about the Once Upon A Time fanbase. There is a character in the show named Baelfire, who changes his name to Neal Cassidy. Neal ends up being a love interest to Emma and admitedly he lets her go to jail for a crime he committed in the end... However he was convinced by August Booth, another character that unless he did so Storybrooke, the town once upon a time is set in, would remain under a horrific curse that kept them all misrable and living with fake identities would never be broken. So I kinda get why he did that. Captain Swan shippers always try to shame Neal for that and act like Killian is the better man for Emma because of it, which I don’t like.

What gets me annoyed more though is that the Captain Swan shippers and Killian fans are always accusing Neal of statutory raping Emma to prop up Killian as the better person. 

This annoys me just because of the hypocrisy. Killian literally says he gets women drunk to have sex with them, and yet shame Neal for apparently being a rapist? Neal may have statutory raped Emma idk I’ve not heard the reasons people suggest he is, and if he is then yeah fuck Neal, but still Killian fans can’t really complain on that part. 

[eirian-houpe]

The Library Beneath the Clock Tower - Chapter 43

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Belle/Gaston (Once Upon a Time)

Characters: Belle (Once Upon a Time), Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Widow Lucas | Granny, Grumpy | Leroy, Maurice | Moe French, Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Merida (Once Upon a Time), Jiminy Cricket | Archie Hopper, Gaston (Once Upon a Time), Le Fou, Mad Hatter | Jefferson, Prince Charming | David Nolan, Gus | Billy, Huntsman | Sheriff Graham, Mother Trude (Fairytale Character)

Additional Tags: Bookshop On the Corner, slightly AU, Cursed Storybrooke (Once Upon a Time), Alternate Universe - In Storybrooke | Cursed (Once Upon a Time), Eventual Smut

Summary: Storybrooke has no library, and neither does Belle, not since the library where she worked in Boston discovered her past as an inpatient at a mental hospital. Taking her future into her own hands, Belle travels to Storybrooke where her intention is to open up the town library, but all does not go according to her plan. Obstacles and false starts, and diversion along very wrong pathways interrupt her journey toward fulfilling her dream, as well as taking her rightful place and becoming a part of the Storybrooke community.

Winner of the 2020 Espenson Award, Best Book AU.

Read previous chapters on AO3

Chapter 43 - Determination.

In comparison to how long it took Belle to fall asleep the night before, it took her almost twice as long to wake the following morning. She felt as though she were prying her eyes open with a wet noodle as successful as she was, which wasn’t very, and although she had mentally promised herself a bath for this morning, she decided it would be more prudent to take a shower. One she hoped would wake her up.

She also decided on coffee and not tea as was her usual habit, and set the coffee pot to percolate before heading back to the bathroom. As she passed through the bedroom on the way, she caught sight of the dress, hanging from the dresser door, and everything from the night before came flooding back.

The dancing, the anticipation for the lighting of the fire; the sudden rush of light and heat as the bonfire lit, reaching for the stars that seemed to burst overhead as the fireworks flew skyward. The touch of hands - Golds and her own - and the absolute certainty in her heart, in her belly, that the flicker of thoughts and images, the nonsense that raced through her mind as memory, were absolutely true.

“No,” she told herself aloud, even stamping a foot as her eyes filled with tears. “This is ridiculous, it’s all rubbish!”

She tore herself away from the bedroom, from the sight of the dress and into the bathroom, shedding her night dress as if it caused offense and stepping into the shower even before the frigid water had begun to turn warm, then hot. The captive tears fell, and her body shook with sobs she didn’t understand.

“We never met,” she told herself through the sobs, “Not until I came to Storybrooke, how could any of that…?”

She trailed off, standing under the cascade of water as she willed the thoughts away, as if she could slough them away with the soap she stripped from her body. She wouldn’t think about it any more. There were other, more practical; more worrying things she’d learned from Gold before the events of the festival.

She snapped off the water, and grabbed the nearest towel as she stepped out and began to dry herself, looking around as she did at the apartment that she called home, and felt comfortable and happy doing so. What would happen if the library apartment came to be owned by Jones? What would that mean? A less than forgiving landlord who would expect rent on the place separate from the rent she paid to Gold for the Library? Would he simply want her to leave and evict her, leaving her no place to go while he moved in his latest conquest? She had no idea where that thought came from, but it felt very close to the truth, at least in her eyes.

It was as though everything were coming unraveled again, and this time she would have to leave Storybrooke and find a new start somewhere else. Though the thought made her belly lurch again, it might not be such a bad thing to put some distance between herself and Mister Gold after all, but… what if she didn’t want to?

She growled at herself as she toweled her hair dry and chased herself round and round in circles with her thoughts. She needed to keep busy. She needed to stop herself from over-thinking everything and so, almost on a whim, she decided that she would open the library today after all, even if everywhere else stayed closed.

She wasn’t wrong about thinking that either. It was a bright, beautifully sunny day and so she propped the library doors open to give the place a good airing out. Through the opened doors as she stood at the circulation desk she could see the closed doors, and the lack of the usual foot traffic up and down the town streets. She opened the returns box, and checked in, repaired and shelved the books even before the first hour of the day was passed, and so her plan of keeping busy to prevent herself from thinking was scuppered even before it began.

She found herself standing at the circulation desk, idly making notes on a blank piece of paper, of all the places she might try to start over in much the same way that someone might doodle as their mind wandered. Most places were on the East coast, but a few were flung further afield, even to foreign countries.

“Miss Belle?”

The voice made her jump, and on instinct she dropped the pencil and screwed the sheet of paper into a ball in her hand, ashamed that she’d even been contemplating leaving Storybrooke, let alone making a list of where to go.

“Paige!” She gave the girl a smile, which the girl returned, but the smiled did not even get close to her eyes.

“Surprised you’re open today,” Paige said, and she even sounded glum. “I can stay though, if you need me.” Belle shook her head, about to tell the girl that she really didn’t need the help today, but before she could utter a word of it, Paige went on. “I don’t mind the hard work, nor the dirty work, you know I don’t. I can—”

“Paige, it’s all right,” Belle told her kindly, and then came around the desk to gently cup her fingers around Paige’s cheek. “I know you’re an excellent worker, it’s not that I doubt that - ever. It’s just that there really isn’t anything to do. Even I’m bored.” As if to both prove her words, and to hide what she’d been doing she held out her hand containing the crumpled paper and showed the ball of it to Paige before using both hands to be sure it couldn’t be easily opened and read, before tossing it into the trash can in the corner. “But you’re more than welcome to stay and read… if you’d like. Actually I’d like the company.”

Paige smiled, genuinely this time, and threw a hug around Belle’s waist before a murmured ‘thank you’ accompanied her footsteps toward the quiet corner. The smile fell from her face a moment later, though, when the heavy tread of Miss Trude, rolled like thunder over the library entrance.

“I thought I might find you here, my girl,” she virtually spat in Paige’s direction. “Shame on you, with so much to be done.”

“Excuse me—” Belle began, but Trude paid her no mind, riding rough-shod over both her words, and Paige’s obvious fear.

“It’s not like that, Miss Trude,” the girl began, “You always tell me a girl has to keep her promises, and it being Saturday, I—”

“…Dare you quote my own words back at me!” Trude snapped. “Get you home, right now, and see to your family, and your chores.”

Paige practically dropped the book she had been holding ready to read, and fled from the library even before Belle managed to find the words to reassure her, to stand up to that bully of a neighbor.

“And you!” Trude rounded on her. “You just keep your nose out.”

“Now, just a minute!” Belle spluttered with all the indignation of the last few weeks, but Trude ignored even that, and with her nose in the air, turned and stomped out of the library twice as loudly as she had entered.

Belle stood for a moment almost reeling and uncertain what it was she had just witnessed, but the more she thought about it, the more she grew uneasy, and the more her unease grew, the stronger her determination - in spite of Trude’s warning - to find out just what was going on. She nodded and then, before she could second guess herself and change her mind, walked around the circulation desk, and used the computer to look up Paige’s address which she scribbled on a piece of paper that she slipped into her pocket. She grabbed the sign that she had taken off the library doors scant few hours before, and affixed it to the doors again. Then, she took a deep breath, locked up the library, and set off toward Paige Grace’s house. She was determined that she would speak with her parents and get to the bottom of everything once and for all.

It wasn’t far, and after only a few twists and turns she found the street and started down it, looking for the number on the mailbox or the door. When she saw the tumbledown excuse for a dwelling behind the number 117, first she gasped, and then double checked the number she had written for Paige’s home.

The yard was overgrown, wild with weeds and in among them hints of broken pots and other discarded household items; a wooden chair, one of its legs broken and tied together with twine sat propped up against the peeling blue siding that covered the front of the house, and - Belle feared - hid a multitude of sins beneath. There were cracks in one or two of the windows, and all of them were dirty, grimy as though they hadn’t seen a cleaning cloth in years. Several of the shingles had come loose from the roof and were hanging precariously from gutters that seemed stuffed with leaves and debris, and Belle loathed to think what it was like in the rain. In fact, it looked as though the two storey building should have been condemned many years ago.

She was not, generally, one to judge, but Belle couldn’t help but wonder what parent in their right mind would let things get so bad when there were children involved, and with a breath, she set off down the broken path towards the front door, resolute in her intent to discover Paige’s sorry situation, and hopefully, to help.

Stopping on the porch that was broken underfoot, she raised her hand and knocked.

[donteattheappleshook]

Stone Hearts Chapter 10

Slightly shorter chapter this week and I'm not super happy with it but here is the product of my flu-addled brain... and me being forced to write plot.

Summary:

Emma should have known. She should have known that they couldn’t just go to the underworld and not suffer any consequences. She should have known they’d bring something back with them.

Cannon Divergent after 5x21 Last Rites. No Hyde. No serum. No Evil Queen split. No prophecy. No season 6.

Read from the beginning on Ao3 or FFn because tumblr eats all my italics.

Rated M

Chapter 10

Emma couldn’t help but notice how good she was getting at this whole teleportation thing - at this whole magic thing really. She’d only just started to learn and get the hang of it before she became the Dark One. Before that her magic had been unpredictable, driven by fits of fear and anger or other strong emotions. But when she’d taken on the dagger’s magic it had been fuelled by something else, by darkness and hatred and desire. It had come easy but with a price. 

It had been hard to relearn how to use it without channeling the darkness inside of her, the sad, angry places that she’d buried deep. She’d just begun to understand how to draw from the light in her life, from the happiness and desires she had for herself and for others. Killian had helped. He always helped, being around him had that kind of influence on her - calming, encouraging, letting her believe in herself and in her abilities. 

And then, after they’d returned from the Underworld, after they’d defeated Hades and Killian had come back to her… she hadn’t needed it. For those six, happy months that she was allowed, Emma hardly ever used her magic. It was still a part of her, still sometimes flaring up when she got excited or upset - much to Killian’s amusement - sometimes used as a party trick or out of laziness. But there had been no threat, no reason to practice, no one to defend. She’d been able to just let it be another thing about her that made her different, made her who she was, rather than a weapon, something she had to master and learn in order to protect and save people. 

She wondered sometimes if practicing would have made a difference. If being ready and constantly prepared for any new danger could have somehow prevented what happened, if she could have somehow defeated the King if she’d just been stronger. But then, Regina hadn't been able to stop him, or Gold. She may have been the product of true love, but their magic still far surpassed hers in skill and experience. It wouldn’t have made a difference.

But now she was back to learning, back to practicing, and once again almost always doing so under threat. Getting them out of the hospital had been a gut reaction, instinct and fear and even, a little bit of protectiveness. The potion she’d learned from a book, followed a recipe. But more and more she was noticing that she could call on her magic, weave it without the need for any emotion at all. It was strange. It was as though it had been simmering below the surface, waiting for her to need it again.

Her partner seemed unaffected by the magical travel. Maybe he was used to it, maybe he was completely unaware of it or unfazed, didn’t know that it wasn’t normal to teleport from one place to another. He was more concerned with something else than with magically appearing out of thin air.

“This is a house?” he asked, staring at the Town Hall. He sounded shocked and skeptical and it made her laugh, drawing his attention away from the massive building and to her. Those were two more emotions she hadn’t heard from him yet. She didn’t really know if they even counted. Maybe it was just because he was speaking more now that she was noticing tones in his voice she hadn't picked up on before. She’d heard other stolen people speak, had heard cruelty and malice in their voices… but never shock, never doubt. It was such a small thing… but still.

“Not really,” she told him, unsure how to explain the intricacies of mayorhood to him. “It’s the Town Hall. Regina’s office was in there and she spent more time here than she did anywhere else - more than at her own home anyway.” He considered her for a moment and then nodded slowly. She wondered if he really understood or was just letting it drop. She’d have known if it was Killian. He was always easy to read. “Come on,” she continued. “Ruby shawshanking her way into the hospital gave me an idea.” 

“Ruby?” he asked. “Shawshanking?” 

The way he said those words… it almost sounded like him. The same confusion and slight aversion to new terms he didn’t recognize, a sort of distaste at being out of the loop. Marty Mcwho? Photoshopped? It made her heart tighten a little, the way his brow was pulled down, the immediate instinct to tease him, to make a joke about him not knowing anything about pop culture - the way she would have teased Killian. He looked so much like him now. She thought about how she could possibly explain what shawshanking was when he spoke again, making her heart jump into her throat. 

“Ruby is the wolf-girl, right?” He was still frowning, still looking unsure, and increasingly so under her gaze. How did he know that? She tried to put it together, tried to think of when he might have seen Ruby. She’d been gone when he’d arrived to save her at the hospital hadn’t she? Had he heard her talking to Ruby through the window of her cell? Had she been less successful in being stealthy than she thought? Had he heard her and Henry talking about her? Her brow was pulled down now and she tried to force down the hope that was flaring up.

“How did you know that?” she asked. Was he remembering? Had something happened since this morning that was somehow bringing bits of his memory - of Killian’s memory to the surface? He frowned deeper, eyes searching, staring at the ground below his feet. That panicked expression started to bloom on his face again the longer he thought.

“I - I don’t know…” he started. Emma stared at him, waited until he brought his eyes back up to hers, searched them, tried to look past the scared, lost expression there, looking for any hint of recognition. 

“What’s... your name?” she asked, hesitant, afraid of what would be better, what would be worse - him knowing or not knowing. That expression came over his face again, the searching and then the worry and then the panic and the pain. “Hey, sorry, sorry,” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. He inhaled sharply when she touched him. “Forget I asked, okay?” He didn’t respond but his muscles relaxed a little. “Let’s go inside. We shouldn’t be out in the open.”

 He nodded and followed her. She didn’t know what to make of it, of his confusion. Was he scared because he knew that something was missing? She really, really didn’t want to hope… but she really did. They had to get out of the open, she reminded herself. Now wasn’t the time for introspection and hope. 

Ruby’s tunnel had given her an idea. It had reminded her of something Regina had said once - back when defeating Hades had been the worst of their worries - that there were tunnels that ran under the Town Hall, hidden beneath it. She was pretty sure that Regina was too smart to have designed a town with a single, underground passage - Emma was pretty convinced that those tunnels ran under the entire town. At least, she was really hoping that they did.

Remembering them had given her two new hopes. One, that they might actually find a safe place to hide that nobody in the King’s army knew about, including Gold. And two, that maybe Regina had stashed away some of her spellbooks there for safekeeping. It was a long shot but that was what she was left with at this point. The only problem was that she had no fucking clue how to get into them. She hadn’t been allowed to go on that particular mission, had been called too emotional because of her grief. Yeah, well, things change and now she was the only one who could complete this mission, grief and all. But now she didn’t know how the fuck to get in there. 

There were thankfully no protection charms around the building - her parents taking over as town leaders had seen to that, ensuring everyone was able to come and seek aid, find refuge if they needed it. But while that was a good thing, meaning they could get in easily, avoid being exposed for very long, it also meant that they wouldn’t be as safe inside. She didn’t have time to put up new ones, didn’t have the amount of backup standing guard she needed to make sure nobody tried to get through before they were even built. They would have to be quick. 

She led him inside and he followed easily, letting her grab hold of his hook and drag him along behind her. They made their way up the grand staircase and into the mayor’s office. She almost laughed again when she saw his reaction to the decor. She had to agree, it was a bit much. She got to work, pulling books from shelves, looking inside and under potted plants, investigating the desk for a secret latch or a set of keys, anything that would point her in the direction of the entrance to the tunnels. She was so focused she almost didn’t hear him when he spoke again. 

“Is it… Killian?” he asked. She froze, kneeling by the foot of Regina’s chair where she’d been inspecting the underside. Everything stopped for a moment, every muscle in her body, the blood in her veins, the beating of her heart just stopped with those three words. His voice was small, quiet and full of that same, almost childlike confusion and fear. He reminded her of the lost boys they’d met in Neverland. She waited, waited until she could feel her limbs enough to move them, to stand, to look at him cautiously, too afraid to hope for the best, bracing herself for the worst. 

“Is what Killian?” 

He only looked at her for a moment. “My name. Is it Killian?” Emma’s breath was shaky and harsh now with fear and she didn’t even know what else. This was foreign territory. 

“Why are you asking?” She couldn’t let herself presume, couldn’t put words in his mouth. 

“You… called me that,” he said, the frown still ever present and ever deepening on his face. “Before.” Her breath left her all at once. He hadn’t remembered. The memories weren’t his to remember. She shook her head.

“Killian…” she paused, not sure exactly how to explain it. “Killian was his name.” He watched her again and then the frown softened in understanding as he put it together. 

“The man from your stories.” 

“Yes.” 

“The man who had my voice.” She frowned. What? She stared at him. “In my vision last night,” he continued as though that explained anything. 

“Your vision?” she asked, confused, trying to understand this cryptic, riddle-like way in which he was so fond of speaking. “You mean your dream?” Her heart pounded, hard, heavy beats against her sternum, echoing through her whole body, shaking it. “Did you dream about him?”

“I - I don’t know,” he said and it took everything inside of her to stay calm, to not let herself get frustrated, not to demand answers. Whatever was happening was clearly as new for him as it was for her - and just as terrifying. “It’s... blurry.” 

She walked up to him, put her hand on his arm again, noticed the way the deep creases that had returned in his brow faded a little at her touch.

 “What else was in your dream?”

He looked at her and slowly the fear and confusion left his face, was replaced with certainty. There was almost a longing in his eyes. She was sure that if he didn’t seem so afraid of touching her he would have reached out for her then. 

“You.” 

Shit. She didn’t know what to do with that. He’d dreamed about her. She didn’t even know he could dream - didn’t know the shells dreamed. Had he dreamed about her now, as she was, as the person he’d known for a little over a week? Or was it… She was still so afraid to hope. She could handle him being someone new, being someone born of what was done to Killian, someone that she had grown to trust. But to let herself believe that he was Killian, that he was Killian trying to break through to her - and if she turned out to be wrong… 

She stepped away, dropped her hand and with it his gaze left hers. Whatever focus, whatever draw had been making her look like that left him and he was back to the reserved, quiet man he’d been before. She moved to resume her search, starting to pull books from shelves again and leaf through them. She didn’t even know what she was looking for anymore. She wasn’t really focusing. She was just trying to get her heart and her breath and her feelings back under control. 

“What is it then?” he asked and she nearly sighed. She’d only just started to manage to ignore the thoughts racing in her head, to try rationalize his existence and he’d had to go ahead and pull her right back. 

“What’s what?” She didn’t look up from her book, knew she’d groan at him if she did.

“My name.” 

The words caught her by surprise. She shut the book slowly, put it back on the shelf. His name. She didn’t know what his name was. She didn’t think any of the King’s minions had names. She’d been calling him Killian and then correcting herself and calling him Not Killian in her head - as well as several other, much ruder names out loud. She remembered what Gold had called him - his puppet. It made her skin crawl just to think about it, about this man being used as a slave, being used to do evil’s bidding when there was a kindness in him - she’d seen it. He deserved a name. 

She looked over at where he stood, awkwardly in the middle of the room, fiddling with the sharp point of his hook the way he seemed to do when he was nervous or scared. She smiled a little, remembering another man that she’d believed to be evil and cruel but who had proved her wrong. She gave him a little smile. 

“Why don’t we call you Hook for now?” 

He looked up at her, his brows lifting in surprise, and then back at the appendage for a moment before meeting her eye once more. He nodded. Hook it was then. She could handle that. Killian hadn’t been Hook to her for a very long time. It was fitting, someone who looked like him and sounded like him but was so far removed from the man Killian truly was, the man he had become. She returned his nod and pulled out another book. 

“Good. Now help me look.” It was the least he could do instead of just standing there, making her question everything she knew and believed every few minutes. 

“What are we looking for?” 

She sighed. “I don’t know. Anything that looks like it could be a passageway or a key or something to get into a secret tunnel. Just, tell me if you find anything that doesn’t look right.” 

He nodded but he looked more confused than ever. She couldn’t blame him. He would be no help at all, she thought. He made an effort though, searching the room, looking under pillows and along tables for buttons or latches. He was inspecting the window when he stopped. She figured he’d given up, that he didn’t understand what they were doing or why. 

It was a long, fruitless while where she turned the entire room upside down before she gave up, collapsed on one of the armchairs and heaved a sigh. She looked over at him, unsure what their next move should be. She had really placed all her bets on finding this tunnel. He was still at the window, looking out of it, focused on something outside. Her immediate thought was that someone was coming, that they’d been found and even - fleetingly - that he’d sold them out. But he didn’t look worried or tense or prepared for a fight. He just looked focused. 

She stood, walking across the black and white linoleum to where he stood, following his gaze to whatever it was that had caught his attention so raptly. It was a tree. A single tree, isolated from the rest, with dark, red apples growing from it. Of course. Of course Regina would hide her secret entrance in her most precious possession. It wasn’t her desk or her chair or her books - it was that fucking tree. 

She remembered then that it had been Killian who had told her about that particular royal quirk. King Arthur had revealed it to him in the Underworld when they’d been looking for Hades’ missing pages. Had this man - had Hook - known who Regina was, what that tree meant to her? Maybe they had been told things about them, fed information to make it easier to hunt them. The person who stole Snow had known who she and her father were. 

Maybe. But maybe it was something else. It was too many coincidences, too many little moments and whispers that kept hinting at, adding up to, the same thing. His dreams, the way he’d reached out for her so desperately, the way he’d hummed that song, the way he knew who Ruby was, the way he’d listened to her stories, the way he’d kissed her back, the way he’d called her Emma, the way he’d saved her life - and now this. 

Something was - no, he was changing. Whether it was the spell fading or Killian screaming out from somewhere inside of this new man, she didn’t know, and she didn’t have time to speculate. But she couldn’t keep hiding from it, couldn’t keep protecting herself from it if it meant not helping Killian - not finding him.

She thought back to another time, long ago, when she’d met another version of Killian, one that wasn’t so different from the man before her now. He’d been a deckhand, scared and confused and nearly helpless but deep down, in the end, he’d still been Killian. Kind, and brave, and willing to sacrifice anything - even himself - to protect those he cared about. At his core, he’d been Killian, regardless of the memories he’d been fed, or the ones that had been stolen. 

She remembered her parents then too. Remembered how David had told her that he’d helped Snow find her way back to herself once, back to him, by reminding her of who she was and who he was to her. True love was the most powerful magic in the world and she knew, without any test or scales or magic kiss that that was what she and Killian had had. Maybe it was time to start believing in that, time to start reminding this man of who he was rather than just resenting what he’d become.

She took his hand and he startled. “Come on,” she said gently. “You figured it out.” His brow pulled down in that confused way that had made her laugh before, clearly having no idea what she was referring to. She grabbed her bag and led him out of the office, her hand still wrapped around his and, after a moment, she felt his fingers close over her own. The familiar feel of it was like a warmth, blooming from where they touched and out through her limbs, into her bones. I’ll find you, she thought. If you’re in there, I’ll find you. 

They made their way through the building and out to the tree. That was as far as she got for a while. She was sure that Hook was right and that the entrance was probably disguised somewhere on the trunk. But how the hell she was supposed to find it she had no idea. She circled the tree, looking for something out of place, something wrong. It looked like a normal damn tree. Hook was staring straight up, frowning a little at the fruit with his mouth hanging open, like he’d never seen an apple tree before. Technically, this version of him probably hadn’t, she realized. She left him to his confusion as she kept looking, pressing at every knot and pulling at every branch she could reach. 

“What I wouldn’t give for Indigo’s magic sword,” she muttered under her breath. 

“What?” he asked, his face finally looking away from the fruit and the leaves. Good, his neck was gonna get sore if he kept that up. 

“Nevermind,” she said. After a moment, he simply nodded and went back to looking at the apples. She frowned. “What the hell is so fascinating about these fruits, man?” she asked, getting annoyed - more at herself but, well, he was there for her to project it onto. He didn’t look down again.

“They’re all exactly the same.” 

“Huh?” she asked, frowning and following his gaze. He was right. Every single apple was identical. While she’d never really noticed much difference from one apple to another, these ones were eerily all the same. Each the exact same shade of red, each the exact same size, each the exact same flawless shape. That wasn’t normal. She should have known Regina would use magic to genetically modify her fruit. 

She noticed one though - one that was just a little bit different. Where the others were a dark, almost blackish red, this one was paler, like it was younger, like it hadn’t ripened yet. It was smaller too. She reached out, pulled it until it came loose, and held it between her hands. Hook watched her do it, that same, confused, skeptical look on his face. 

After an anticlimactic moment, where she thought she’d guessed wrong, she jumped at the sound of the earth moving. The ground next to her feet was falling away, opening up to reveal a set of stairs that disappeared beneath the tree. Fucking Regina and her fucking apples. She almost laughed, almost groaned. A new fruit was already growing in the old one’s place.

Hook was tense beside her and it took her a second to realise that at some point, he’d put himself between her and the passage, as though blocking her from whatever the noise was, or whatever might have been planning to come out. She put a hand on his arm that was braced, held out in front of her. She gently urged it down and after a moment, he didn’t resist. 

“It’s fine,” she told him. “This is what we were looking for.” She took his hand again. It was hard to stop once she’d started. Just like it had been hard to stop talking to him those nights in the cell. Every time she touched him she just wanted to keep touching him, keep feeling him. She liked feeling the warmth and the comfort, liked the way his hand still fit with hers the same way, the way his rings were still cold against her skin. It was familiar and now… now she had hope that maybe it really was him, somewhere, somewhere really deep down. 

He was staring at their hands again, his still stiff in hers and she worried. Maybe she shouldn’t be pushing him. She might have just begun to believe that maybe there was a chance she could find the man she loved… but to him, to Hook, she was still a stranger. Maybe it wasn’t fair to put all of this on him, to expect him to be someone else, someone he wasn’t anymore, someone he would hopefully be again - but might not. She moved to loosen her hold but he shifted, slipping his fingers through her own and hanging on, like he was grounding himself. 

He looked up at her then and she nodded before slowly heading down the stairs, testing the first step, making sure it would hold, making sure it wasn’t a trap. When it held steady under her weight she continued. Hook followed behind her, not releasing his grip on her hand. When they reached the bottom, Emma found a leaver in the wall. Apparently opening it from the inside was easier than from the outside. She pulled it and the steps rose back up, disappearing into the ceiling above them. 

It was dark inside. Emma felt for a lightswitch, instructed Hook to do the same, a little disappointed when he dropped her hand, but she couldn’t find one. Hook didn’t seem to have any luck on his side of the tunnel either. She couldn’t see him anymore, it was pitch black around them. She was worried suddenly, not liking not knowing where he was, if he was alright, if he was afraid. She focused on her hand, held it out in front of her and thought about how much she wanted to see his face in that moment. 

A small flame appeared in her palm and she let out a small cheer, pleased with her own achievement. Fireballs were hard. She remembered how long it took Regina to teach her to even manage a spark. Hook looked up at her when she called out, reacted to the light. He seemed surprised for a moment but when he saw the excitement on her face he gave her a small, hesitant smile. Maybe even this version of him was a fan of her magic, she mused. 

“Emma!” he shouted suddenly and she barely had time to see the panic in his eyes, see him try and reach for her before someone grabbed her from behind, a knife pressed to her throat.

“Stay back!” the voice shouted when he took a step forward. He paused, looking between her and the person who held her, evaluating, judging the threat. The voice spoke to her next. “Move and you die.” The voice was female, and familiar.

“Ariel?” she asked, surprised, confused. She didn’t even know Ariel had been in Storybrooke when the Horned King arrived. 

“You know who she is?” another voice asked. A second woman came out of the darkness, holding a sword to Hook, aimed it at his chest. 

“Tink?” she asked in shock. The blade at her throat pressed harder. Hook stepped forward but Tink moved in front of him, stopping his progress. The blade was digging into his jacket now, over his heart. If he took another step it would run him through. “Of course I know her,” Emma said, hoping to de-escalate the situation. “Tink. It’s me, Emma. You know me.” 

“We used to know a lot of people in this town,” Tink said, not letting up. “Don’t trust her,” she said to Ariel. “It could be a trick.”

Emma met Hook’s eyes over Tink’s shoulder. She could see his hand twitching, tense. She also knew he could get out of this, could escape giving the opportunity. He’d had blades pointed to his chest before. She looked down at her hand, at the fire, hoping he’d understand that she could get out too. He nodded. 

Emma snuffed out the flame, engulfing the room in darkness again. She raised her hand faster than Ariel could react, blasting the knife out of her hand, heard it clatter to the floor. She heard the screeching of metal on metal next, heard Tink cry out but she didn’t hear her sword hit the floor. There was panic for a moment as they all scrambled in the dark, and then the lights came on. 

Tink and Ariel stood to one side of the tunnel, Ariel’s hand was still gripping the leaver that had clearly turned on the power. Tink was next to her, still armed. Emma looked around frantically for Hook, relieved when she saw him standing a little ways away from where she’d last seen him. But he was far too close to that sword.

“Are you okay?” she asked. He nodded. She turned to the other two. “Tink, Ariel... Is it really you? Are you really okay?” She had tears welling in her eyes now, her voice cracking. She’d thought she was the only one left, her and Ruby and Henry. But there were more. How many more were there? How many had survived? “Are you really still human?” They were, she could see it in their eyes, see the recognition and the fear and the anger. 

“We’re plenty human,” Tink spat. She stepped closer to Hook again, sword drawn. “What about you though. How can we know you’re human?” Emma saw his face harden, ready to fight and she shook her head at him. Don’t, she tried to say without words. We need them to trust us. They needed to be together in this. They couldn’t defeat the King if they were divided. But she didn’t know how to convince them to trust Hook when she herself had only just begun to. He was still cursed and she knew that that would be enough to scare any of them into action. Hook didn’t move but he still glared at the woman who was holding a blade to him for the second time since they’d entered the tunnel. 

“I am,” she tried to tell them, tried to beg them to listen. “My heart… it has a protection spell on it.” Ariel seemed to relax. Tink didn’t. “Ask me anything! Anything at all, something only I’d know and I promise I’ll know the answer.”

“I believe you,” Ariel said.

“What about him?” Tink demanded. “I’ve seen him around. Seen him with the others. He’s one of them.” Emma saw her hand tighten around the handle of the blade. 

“Don’t touch him!” she shouted. She could feel the magic burning in her fingers, had to rein it in, had to control herself to stop it from lashing out. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to if Tink hurt him. “He’s different,” she tried to explain. “Something’s… happening to him.” 

“Emma,” Tink said over her shoulder, her voice patronizing, heavy with pity. “I know you loved him and all, but you can’t be serious. He’s dangerous. Just like the rest of them.” 

“Tink,” Ariel said quietly. “Maybe we should listen to her. What if…”

“What if nothing,” she snapped. “He’s cursed. There’s no coming back from this one.” Her voice broke on the last words. 

Emma recognized it then. The despair in Tink’s voice, the hopelessness, the anger, and the hatred… the emptiness. She recognized it, recognized herself a week ago, hell, days ago. But she also knew what that meant. Tink wasn’t going to let him go. She was going to kill him. Emma felt fire burning inside of her - rage, protectiveness, love, all merging into one. It raged through her veins, rushed through her body until she could feel it in the tips of her fingers. 

“I said. Don’t. Touch. Him,” she shouted again. But this time it was a warning. There were twin flames burning in her hands now, she could feel the magic coursing through her, knew she couldn’t stop it, she'd lost control. She couldn’t let her hurt him. It was engulfing her, overpowering her, consuming her. She’d just got him back -just got the possibility of him back. She wasn’t going to let anyone take it away. 

“Enough!” someone shouted behind them. The voice broke through the anger and the rage and the fight in the room, all gazes snapping to its source. Emma’s fire simmered out when she recognized who it was. Belle. Belle, heavily pregnant and pacing towards them with a crossbow aimed at Killian. She didn’t look ready to shoot but Emma knew better than to challenge her. 

“Belle -” Tink started but she interrupted her.

“I said enough.” Tink hesitated for a moment, looking between the woman and Hook before finally stepping back, dropping her sword. She didn’t look happy about it. Belle looked at Emma then. “How is he different?” 

Emma hesitated. “He’s… changing.” She knew that wasn’t enough. Belle’s look told her so. “He’s - I think he’s coming back. He’s remembering things - little things -”

“None of them come back,” Tink insisted, sword lowered but her hand still had a white-knuckle grip around it. 

“Yet,” Emma reminded her. “None of them have come back yet.” She looked at Belle again. She was still aiming the crossbow at Killian. But Emma knew her. When it came to hope and believing in people, in trying to see the good in them, Belle was only second to Snow. She just had to convince her. “He saved my life,” she told her and Belle raised a brow, surprised, interested. “He turned against the others - he saved me from them.” She could see that had gotten through to her.

Belle thought for a moment, eyeing Hook warily. “Show us his heart,” she demanded.  

Emma hesitated. She didn’t know what good that would do. He was cursed and his heart would reflect it. She feared that more than anything it put him at greater risk - Tink was just waiting for an excuse to run him through. She wondered, just briefly, if it was because she’d cared about Killian too, if it hurt her to see him stolen. But Belle wasn’t budging. Her bow was still at the ready, her expression told Emma she was waiting. 

Emma sighed. At least, maybe this way she could be close enough to protect him if Tink or Belle came after him again. If she could keep his heart safe then they couldn’t kill him. She stepped forward and Hook’s gaze was still firmly on Belle, on the weapon in her hand. She approached him cautiously, not wanting to scare him, hoping he knew she was still on his side. She didn’t touch him yet. Didn’t want to distract him from the seriousness of what she was going to ask - because she was going to ask. He deserved better than to have his heart ripped out of his chest like he was no one. 

“Hook,” he hesitated for a second, not wanting to look away from the threat, but finally his eyes met hers. “I have to show them your heart. I need them to trust us. This is what they need to trust us.” His expression was unreadable. “Will you let me do that?” she asked and he hesitated for a moment, gaze flicking back to the other women in the room before settling on her again. When he looked at her there was trust in his eyes, not for them, but for her. “Thank you,” she said so that only he could hear. She brought her hand to his chest, felt his deep inhale as it rose under her palm. “This might hurt,” she apologized. 

She pushed her hand in. There was no resistance. She did it as slowly and gently as she could and he barely flinched, though she didn’t know if that was due to her care or to his cursed ability to ignore pain. She’d only done this once and that time she’d been scared and frantic and overtaken by darkness. It still felt wrong, taking someone’s heart from their chest, but it didn’t feel as cruel as it had the last time she’d done it. She took hold of his heart and pulled back slowly. He let out a small grunt but seemed otherwise unharmed. She cradled it against her, protecting it, remembering the last time she’d held his heart in her hands. 

“Let’s see it,” Belle said but her tone wasn’t as harsh as it had been. Emma knew - if anyone could understand loving someone despite their darkness it was her. And Belle had loved Killian too. It had taken a while but their friendship had grown into one that she knew Killian cherished. She realised then that all the women in this room had cared about him at some point in their lives. She just hoped that she could convince them to believe in him now.  Emma held out the heart. 

A small gasp left Belle’s lips and Emma’s eyes shot down to the heart - to see what was wrong. She nearly dropped it, shock and fear and hope coursing through her all at once, knocking her back with the force of it. It was cracked. His heart was stone, just like the others, solid rock encompassing it in its entirety… almost. In the middle, right in the dead center of the stone, was a tiny, little crack, as though a piece had been chipped out. It was barely a hair’s width but from it she could see the red glowing through, shining through, a little bit of light trying to force its way through the darkness. Holy shit.

She looked up to meet three equally stunned faces. No one knew what to do. No one knew what this meant. Was the spell breaking? Had something been wrong in the first place? Was this Killian fighting his way back to her again? She wanted to cry. She did cry, a hot, silent tear rolling down her cheek. Belle dropped her weapon. Ariel came up to Belle’s side, taking the weapon from her and offering her very pregnant friend a hand should she need to lean on it.

“What does this mean?” Emma asked, hoping Belle had an answer. Belle with all her books and her research and her love, if anyone had an answer it would be her.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. But we’re going to find out.” Belle walked over to her, took hold of her arms, the heart still held between them. Emma tightened her grip, needing to protect it now more than ever. “Emma, if he’s trying to get back to you, then we’ll help him.” Emma nodded and Belle turned to the others. “Come on, let’s head back to camp,” she told them. They agreed, Tink heading off after her. Ariel walked by Emma, stopping to pick up her dagger that was still on the floor.

“Sorry,” she said, her voice a little small, embarrassed. 

“It’s okay,” Emma said. “You were protecting yourself.” Ariel’s gaze dropped to the heart in Emma’s hand. “That’s incredible,” she said. “I didn’t know that was possible. I thought the spell was unbreakable.” 

“So did I,” Emma breathed. 

“I suppose we never really know the limits of magic until they’re tested,” Ariel said. She gave Emma another, encouraging look and headed off after the others who were waiting for them a few yards away. 

Emma turned back to Hook, her eyes still fixed on the heart. When she looked up at him he was watching her, looking unsure. “Thank you,” she told him and he only nodded. “We can trust them now, okay?” He looked hesitant but he didn’t protest. “I’m gonna put this back now.” He nodded again, waited. 

Raising the heart between them, Emma paused, focusing again on that soft, pinkish glow - Killian, reaching out to her. She had to believe it was him. She should have trusted him sooner, believed in him sooner. She brought the heart close to her face, held it so the crack was barely a breath away from her lips. 

“Come back to me,” she whispered, hoping, that somehow he would hear her, that the message would reach him, that he would keep fighting, knowing she was out here fighting for him too. Hook was looking at her, his head tilted slightly, brow knotted again. He’d find her. She knew he would. In this version, in any version, Killian would always find his way back to her. 

Emma pressed the heart back into his chest, gentler this time than when she’d done this for him so long ago. She could see the change in his expression when the heart was returned, a change in the way he looked at her, that slight recognition, that slight longing coming back. She was relieved. 

She kept her hand there on his chest for a moment, appreciating the steady beat under her palm. Hook’s hand covered hers, holding it against him. She realised then that as much as she was trying to believe in Killian, believe that he could break this curse, she also needed to believe in Hook - in this version of him, believe that he was a good man, that he was fighting against his instincts, choosing her, despite the risks. She slid her fingers through his, squeezing them once before leading him off after the others. 

[lilacmoon83]

Clarity

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Clarity

Chapter 5: Revision

Emma watched David scour the woods in front of her with scrutiny. For a guy that used to seem so confused, he certainly seemed really put together now.

"Oh my God…" she heard him call, as she started running out of the woods and she hurried after him. That's when they saw her car in a ditch on the side of the rural road.

"Mary Margaret!" he cried, as he searched the car and all around it.

"She's not here…" he said, as his hopes were dashed.

"No...but there are footprints and none of them are hers. Look," Emma called, as she pointed to a set of tracks.

"You're right...those are too big to be hers, which means someone carried her off," he growled and it was an intensity she had never heard from him. They began to follow the set of tracks and a car passed them going the opposite direction, which they didn't think anything of at the moment. Until they came upon a large house on the rural road.

"Any idea who lives here?" Emma asked.

"No...but I know who will and whoever it is...they were probably in that car," he said.

"There is someone that will know," he said.

"Gold?" Emma asked.

"Trust me...he knows everything about this damn town," David replied, as they headed back to town.

~*~

He saw them coming before they did and normally, he would refuse to help. But now that Regina had made such a foolish move, things had drastically changed in his visions and helping was in his best interest. As he always did, when his vision changed, he made the necessary revision.

"Dammit Jefferson...this was not part of my plan," he growled, as he went to the picture on the wall and opened the wall safe behind it. Fortunately, he had planned for everything and though he loathed traveling beyond Storybrooke's borders, he knew the time would come when he needed to. It just wasn't supposed to be to retrieve Snow White. However, her absence in Storybrooke seriously jeopardized the curse being broken and that would sully everything he had worked for. He grabbed two bluish potions, just as David and Emma stormed into the pawn shop.

"Charming," Gold addressed the Prince. Emma didn't miss it and momentarily narrowed her gaze, before pushing that aside for the task at hand.

"Who lives in the mansion near the outskirts of town on Misthaven Road?" David questioned.

"His name is Jefferson and he is a former employee of mine," Gold revealed.

"We think he kidnapped Mary Margaret. Did you have anything to do with that?" Emma questioned.

"No...if he was working for me, I would have never given an order like that. I'd never want any harm to come to the fair Mary Margaret," he replied, as his eyes locked with David's.

"Then Regina did this...didn't she?" he asked.

"Most likely and Jefferson has left town," he revealed.

"How do you know that?" Emma asked.

"Because Regina doesn't want you two together and what better way than to take her somewhere where she thinks you cannot follow without consequences," Gold replied.

"Then I need your help. I'll make whatever deal you want, but I have to find her," David said.

"Agreed," Gold said.

"So what do we need to know about this Jefferson?" Emma asked.

"Well, he hates Regina for one thing," Gold replied.

"Then why the hell would he do anything for her?" David asked.

"The only way he would is if she promised him what he wants most," Gold replied.

"And what is that?" Emma asked.

"His daughter," Gold said. Emma raised an eyebrow.

"He has a daughter?" she asked.

"Yes...but she lives with her adopted family. It's complicated, but I know Jefferson well," he replied.

"If I offer him a better deal for the release of Mary Margaret, then he'll comply," Gold said.

"Fine...then we need to figure out where he went," David replied.

"New York," Gold replied.

"How the hell could you know that?" Emma asked. David's eyes locked with Gold's again.

"Because he just does," David answered for her. Emma opened her mouth to ask more questions, but Gold put up his hand.

"Miss Swan...time is of the essence and we must find the fair Mary Margaret, correct?" he asked. Emma closed her mouth.

"Fine...let's go," she said crossly.

"Oh, not so fast, dearie. You'll need me to come with you if you expect to barter a new deal with Jefferson," Gold said, as he limped out from behind the counter.

"Can you really get him to agree to a deal with you instead of the one he has with Regina?" Emma questioned. Gold smirked.

"Jefferson would betray Regina for a Klondike bar," he quipped.

"Trust me...if he thinks I can get him his daughter, he'll switch sides in a heartbeat," he said.

"Fine...your car is bigger than the bug, so you're driving," Emma said impatiently, as she walked out.

"Take this...we both will need it to get over the town line without losing our memories," Gold said.

"What's in this for you?" David asked, as they both drank the sour liquid.

"My son," he said.

"Your son?" David asked.

"No time to explain, dearie, but Regina has nearly destroyed everything I have worked for by kidnapping Mary Margaret and sending her over the town line. She wins if we don't find her," Rumple replied.

"I still don't know what that has to do with your son, but you're right. Emma will never believe anything or stick around this town without Snow...Mary Margaret," he corrected himself. Gold smirked.

"Welcome back, Prince Charming," he said, as he hobbled out and David followed him, with determination lining his face.

"I'll find you, Snow...I will always find you," he promised.

~*~

She sniffed and took solace in his arms, as he held her.

"It shouldn't bother me. I mean, it would have bothered Mary Margaret, but I'm not her anymore. At least...I don't want to be. But it does," she confessed.

"Of course it does and I want to throttle whoever did that. And I'm going to fix it. I have some time on my hands, since no one will hire me. I'll scrub it off your car," he said.

"Thanks...but I'm more sad that you're punishing you too for all this. You're homeless and I can't stand it!" she lamented.

"Hey...it's okay. I'm okay out here. You know living in the woods is like second nature for us," he reminded her.

"That was a long time ago," she murmured.

"It was...but I remember it all. We lived in the woods and still took back an entire Kingdom. Our wedding night was in the woods...our first time was under the stars," he said and she smiled at the memory.

"Well…I guess when you put it like that," she purred, as their lips met passionately and she giggled, as he pulled her into the tent.

~*~

Snow's emerald eyes fluttered open and she looked around, finding herself in an unfamiliar bedroom. She shot up off the bed and immediately went for the door, but found it locked. She went to the window next and opened the blinds. She guessed it was some kind of apartment building and she saw a fire escape. She tried opening the window, but found that it wouldn't budge, even when she unlocked it. She looked around the room for something hard and grabbed the lamp off the bedside table.

"I wouldn't do that…" Jefferson warned, as he walked into the room and closed the door.

"Why are you doing this!?" she demanded to know.

"You know why...I do this and I get my daughter back," he answered.

"So I have to lose mine again?" Snow questioned.

"That's not my problem. Besides, none of this would be happening if your daughter would just believe and break the curse already!" he snapped and she recoiled slightly.

"Emma...she's had a hard life," Snow said, choking a little bit at that.

"Because of Regina," Jefferson replied.

"If you know that, then why would you help her!?" Snow snapped.

"I told you why, dammit!" he snapped in return.

"She'll betray you...I know her, better than most," Snow warned.

"It's a chance I have to take...for Grace," he argued.

"Grace…" she said, trying to place the girl.

"She's Paige under the curse…" he told her.

"Paige...she's in my class!" Snow recalled.

"She's with a good family," she added and he glared at her.

"She's my daughter!" he shouted.

"I know...but at least she's safe! My daughter wasn't! My daughter was alone and thought she was unwanted," Snow cried, as tears slipped down her cheeks.

"But nothing could be further from the truth...please, I have to get back to Emma and Charming. I just found them again...we'll help you get Grace back!" she pleaded.

"You don't have that kind of power. The whole town thinks you're a tramp and your husband is living in a tent by a bridge," he retorted.

"But we're awake now and we can fight Regina," she added.

"You've been awake for weeks and you've done nothing," he spat.

"Because we didn't have any other allies. But if you joined us...we could fight her," Snow argued. But he shook his head.

"I can't risk Grace. I'm sorry...truly. I don't know who Regina is sending to pick you up, but I'm sorry for whatever horror awaits you," he apologized.

"I'm sorry too…" Snow said.

"For what?" he asked, but his answer came with a lamp over the head. He growled and cried out in pain, as she kicked him down and ran to the apartment door. He gave chase and she ran down the hallway, looking to escape the building.

~*~

David looked out the window from the backseat, as Gold drove. They were about halfway to New York and he was, not quite for the first time, realizing that all of his memories of going anywhere outside Storybrooke were curse memories. He had never been anywhere else in this land, except Storybrooke and neither had Snow for that matter. He knew his wife was a strong, capable woman, but there was still a lot of evil out in this world too. He was deeply worried and incredibly anxious. He couldn't lose her again, not when he had finally found her and they were themselves again. He heard something beside him and his eyes widened, as part of the backseat unfolded from the trunk of the car and Henry climbed through.

"Henry…" he uttered, catching Emma's attention and she turned her head. The blonde's eyes widened in surprise and horror.

"Henry!?" she cried.

"Kid...what the hell?" she shouted in a panic.

"I followed my mom and saw what she did to Mary Margaret," he explained.

"So you decided to stowaway in the car!?" she questioned. He shrugged.

"What she did was wrong and I knew David was going to find her. I want to help," Henry said, as he got into the seat and put his seatbelt on.

"Welcome to the mission, kid," David said.

"David…" Emma hissed.

"He's not coming with us! We have to take him back!" Emma insisted.

"Emma...we can't go back now. Mary Margaret is in danger," David reminded her and she couldn't deny that.

"Regina is gonna kill me...and then all of you...and then me again," she complained. But Gold kept driving without a hiccup and a smirk on his face at the prospect of Regina getting a taste of her own medicine.

[hookedonapirate]

The Princess and Her Sultan

Summary: Crown princess Emma of Misthaven is second in line to the throne, her brother Leopold ll being the first, but her parents see her with a future as a great ruler. King Rumpelstiltskin of neighboring land, strikes a deal with King David, promising to uphold the peace between the kingdoms if Emma marries Prince Baelfire. With the promise of his daughter becoming future queen of the Dark Kingdom, David accepts reluctantly.

Before her wedding day, the princess is kidnapped and taken overseas. She is sold as a slave to a palace where Crown Prince Killian of Neverland ascends his father’s throne and is sworn in as Sultan. Meanwhile, Killian’s mother pressures him to sire a prince and presents him with gifts for his birthday, one of them including a blonde princess from Misthaven. Dazzled by Emma’s charm, intelligence and beauty, he summons her to his bedchambers every night and eventually finds himself casting aside his harem and centuries of tradition.  

Author’s Notes: Thank you all for your patience! I didn't even realize it's been a month since I last updated.

*TRIGGER WARNINGS - Please read the warnings before proceeding!!!!* This chapter contains graphic depictions of a slave being tortured in multiple ways, enacted by Killian as Emma watches, and also death by execution. For those who do not wish to read, I have added asterisks before and after these scenes. If any of the above makes you squick, I beg of you PLEASE skip the aforementioned marked section.

Thank you @gingerchangeling for your wonderful suggestions and ideas for this story, and also @ilovemesomekillianjones for gifting me with your wonderful editing skills. I also want to give a shout out to @onceuponaprincessworld for being my sounding board, constant cheerleader and good friend, thank you, darling! This story wouldn’t be the same without these lovely ladies!

And all of you have been so supportive and awesome, thank you all for following along and for your feedback!

Rated: Explicit

AO3 l FF.N I Prologue l Ch 1 l Ch 2 l Ch 3 l Ch 4 l Ch 5 l  Ch 6 l  Ch 7 l Ch 8 l Ch 9 I Ch 10 I Ch 11 I BTS

Chapter 12

The Hall of the Divan is the hub of the Empire. For eighty years, in this small chamber under the watchtower of the Second Court, Neverland Sultans had held court four days every week, receiving petitions, resolving legal matters, meeting foreign envoys and deciding foreign and state policy. Every decision, from the most humble legal dispute between merchants to the declaration of war, had been announced in this room. 

 On the mornings of the Divan, a long line extends across the garden outside as petitioners wait their turn to bring their case before the Sultan. Killian sits on a cushioned dais opposite the door with the Grand Vizier on his right. Generals, military commanders and legal experts sit in their proper order of rank on either side; secretaries and notaries record the imperial decrees and judgments. Only the Sultan may speak. Others are allowed to offer their opinion only as requested, or when speaking out on a particular point of secular or religious law of their specialty. The Sultan’s decree in all matters is final. 

 On this particular day, they are planning to go to war. In the past, Neverland had constantly faced west in their conquests, but Killian has chosen to head further east for his first war. He wants to go after a country that supported his father and is currently embattled in a civil war. The best time to strike is when your enemies are weak and they are very much divided. He cringes at the idea of leaving Emma and their baby, who will be a newborn, behind, but he knows the soldiers are getting restless, itching for the chance to bloody their swords. It’s been a while since they went to war, and Killian has known since he took the throne, war would be inevitable.

 When they’re finished for the day, the Sultan and his Grand Vizier part ways so they can tend to their significant others. James and Ruby’s baby is due any day now, so he checks on her every chance he can. Meanwhile, Killian dearly misses his lovely Swan and their baby and longs to pay them a visit. 

 When he enters the harem however, he can immediately sense chaos. Panicked Eunuchs are scampering about and there is a group of maidens upstairs, gathered outside Emma’s door, wide-eyed and whispering; some of them are concerned and others are clearly only there to see what’s happening. A large lump forms in his throat as he looks up at them and he swallows thickly, quietly climbing the stairs to see if he can hear anything indicating what the commotion is about.

 “Come, ladies!” Mother Superior claps her hands, trying to wrangle them up with Nemo's assistance. “There is nothing to see here.” 

 When the maidens turn and head toward the staircase, they see the Sultan ascending the steps. They immediately stop and bow their heads.

 Killian reaches the top and moves through them as they skitter back to make a path for him. He spots Elsa, the most concerned of the women, and approaches her, gently lifting her chin. “What's going on, lass?” 

 She looks up at him, shaking her head. “I'm not sure, Your Majesty. A scream came from the garden, and Emma was brought back to her room, but they have told us nothing.” 

 Fear stabs him, his face paling as he releases her chin. “She was outside?” he asks, his mouth suddenly as dry as a desert.

 Elsa nods. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

 But why? She was on bed rest, and he’d instructed her bodyguards to make sure she’d followed the doctor’s orders. But knowing his Swan, she was probably too stubborn to listen. 

 He nods at Mother Superior, silently instructing her to dismiss the maidens. She does so, herding them downstairs to their dormitories and Elsa disappears into her apartment as Killian continues toward Emma’s double doors. 

 He is immediately blocked by Lancelot.

 “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but no one is allowed in the apartment.”

 Anger is added to the mixture of emotions he already feels. “I demand to see my wife,” he orders gruffly, his jaw ticking slightly as he tries to remain calm and collective.

 Lancelot bows his head. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but something has happened. Only the physician is allowed inside.”

 “What happened?” he demands, growing irritated. If he doesn’t receive some answers soon, he might explode. “Is she okay? Is our baby okay?”

 “I’m not certain yet, the doctor is still examining her.”

 “What happened?” he asks again, more quietly this time, the concern he feels for her evident in his voice. “Why is Emma being examined?” Killian can see the fear flickering in Lancelot’s eyes like a flame as he lifts his head, and it scares the hell out of him.

 “She was attacked, My Lord.”

 Killian is unable to form words for a full minute, even though his mouth is hanging open, a million questions and thoughts racing through his mind.

 Who attacked her and why? Was it Regina, or did she have something to do with it? He knew he should’ve sent her away months ago.  

 “What do you mean she was attacked?!” he asks, both angered and confused. “It is your and Faraji’s job to protect her! Why is he not with you?!”

 Lancelot swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily. “Faraji is the one who attacked her, Your Majesty.” With a shaky intake of breath, he leans in, speaking more quietly to keep out prying ears. “He tried to rape her. He tried to murder your child.”

 Breath leaves Killian’s lungs like the wind extinguishing the lamps. Something inside him snaps. He can’t even describe the intense, blinding rage and emotions coursing through him, his blood bubbling under his skin. 

 Another man touched his wife, hurt her and tried to murder their unborn child?! No, not a man. He cannot consider anyone cruel enough to carry out such injustice a man.  

 “Where is he?!” Killian roars, his menacing tone causing the burly guard to flinch.

 Trying to recover, Lancelot shifts uneasily, his eyes full of fear and apology. “He’s in the harem garden. The Sultana injured him badly. He lies in a puddle of his own blood.”

 The only thing holding Killian together right now is the hope that Emma had successfully protected herself and the baby and that the examination confirms they are both okay. She is not some damsel in distress; she is strong and brave. She’s his beautiful queen, and there’s something deep inside him that knows she and the baby are fine. Or so he hopes. “Is he dead?” he mutters through clenched teeth.

 Lancelot shakes his head. “He wasn’t when I left him.”

 Though he now despises Faraji in every sense of the word, Killian is glad to hear he’s not dead.

 He turns to Nemo and orders him to wrap Faraji's wounds so he doesn't bleed to death, and then bring him to the dungeon. Death is not a cruel enough punishment for him. No, Killian has other plans for Faraji. But first, he has to make sure his wife and child are okay. Pulling out his sword, he returns to Emma’s doors and points the tip of the blade at Lancelot, threatening him with it when the guard remains in front of the doors. “Your job is to protect her from other men, not me, you imbecile! Move aside!”

 The guard raises his hands in surrender and steps aside. “I’m sorry, My Sultan. I told her not to wander off to the garden, but she did not listen. If I’d have known Faraji would attack her, I would have done more to stop her.”

 “And yet you failed on all counts,” he snarls. “I will deal with you later.” Sheathing his sword, he yanks the doors open and bursts into Emma’s apartment. 

 His heart shatters into a million pieces. His wife is lying on the bed, holding her belly and there are tears streaking down her cheeks. Guilt rips through him as he looks at his lovely Swan. How could he have been so stupid to have bought Faraji? By doing so, he put her and their baby in danger when he was only trying to protect them from it. Once again, another one of Emma's guards betrayed her and Killian feels responsible. His chest aches as he thinks about the damage this incident has caused, and not just physically, but also emotionally. 

 The doctor finishes up and gathers her supplies, putting them in her bag before heading toward the door.

 Killian swallows as he stares at his love, tears swarming his eyes. “Is she okay?” 

 The doctor nods. “She’s fine, only some bruises and abrasions. Her attacker didn't quite penetrate her before she fought back.”

 Killian twinges, the thought of someone trying to… defile her, especially against her will. The thought of her struggling against him while she feared for their baby’s life pains him physically, makes him sick to his stomach. The only thing keeping him from finding that piece of scum and murdering him in cold blood is the need to be by her side. Hold her in his arms if he can. “And our baby?”

 The doctor smiles. “I felt the child moving in the mother’s belly. The baby is fine.”

 Killian sighs in relief. He’s not sure he's ever been this relieved in his life.

 The doctor looks at him more seriously as he blows out a long breath. “There’s something you should know, though, Your Majesty. The attacker gave her a fertility potion. There’s no telling if it harmed the baby, though I’m sure it will have no effect since it was a fertility potion and requires the seed of a man to work.”

 Killian furrows his brows in confusion. “A fertility potion? Why would she need a fertility potion? She is already pregnant.”

 “According to the Sultana, Faraji was trying to implant his own baby inside her.”

 Killian’s anger spikes through the roof as he tries to process the doctor's words. “What?” he whispers angrily, trying not to disturb Emma. “How is that even possible? He’s castrated.”

 The doctor shrugs. “He wasn’t before. But he is now.”

 “What does that mean?” he demands, thoroughly confused.

 The doctor leans in closer, whispering, “She took his manhood.” 

 Killian’s eyes widen. He is astounded and overwhelmed by everything he has heard so far. He’s not even sure he wants to hear anymore. 

 “That’s all I know. The Sultana was too emotional to press for further details. Besides, I’m only a physician. My only concern is the wellbeing of my patients.”

 “Of course,” he mumbles contemplatively, still trying to process everything. “Thank you. You may go.”

 The doctor leaves as Killian hurries to Emma’s bedside. She lies silently, staring at the ceiling, her cheeks still wet with tears. With a quivering breath, he reaches out to wipe her tears from her face. “Emma…” Killian holds back his own tears as he gazes upon her. “I am so sorry,” he whispers gently.

 Emma blinks, slowly turning her head to face him. “Sorry for what? You did nothing wrong. I am the one who did not listen.” Her voice is weak as she tries to smile, but her lips fail to curve that way. 

 “Shhhh, my love. You need not speak. You only need to rest,” he murmurs, swiping her hair from her delicate face. He bends over, pressing his lips to her forehead and lingers there for a few seconds, his breath shaking as he pulls away. 

 He reaches for her hand and brings the back of it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss there. Emma closes her eyes, relishing her Sultan’s touch. Words cannot express what he feels at the moment. He is fraught with emotion; he trembles at the thought of losing her or their baby. He wants to hold her and tell her everything will be okay, but he doesn't want to hurt her.

 “Will you lay with me?” she asks, her stark green eyes looking up at him.

 “Aye, of course,” he answers with a frail smile. “You need not ask twice.” He goes to the other side of the bed and climbs in next to her. He doesn’t want to hurt her though, he doesn't even know where she’s hurting or how much pain she is in. Emma can sense his uncertainty and takes his hand in hers. He shifts to his side, facing her as she places his hand on her belly. He leans in and drops a kiss to her belly through her gown before laying his head beside her, burying his face in her hair. “I love you, Emma,” he whispers in her ear. “I love both of you.”

 “We love you, too.”

 He doesn’t ask any questions even though his mind is still dizzy with them. Why had Faraji attacked her? Why did he want her to mother his child? Why did he lie about being castrated? Why did Killian not see it coming? How could he be so trusting when his precious treasures were involved? A million other questions cross his mind, but he is too weak to ask them. Sultans are not supposed to show their weaknesses. Sultans are supposed to be brave and strong and conquer all that stands in their path, but at the moment, all he can do is hold his loved ones close and whisper prayers to his God. 

 Killian is not entirely sure what had been holding him together before, but now that he can smell the scent of the slave who tried to attack her, now that he can feel her warm body shaking in his arms, the emotions burst through him so violently he doesn’t even see it coming. Sultans are not supposed to cry, but Killian sobs uncontrollably into Emma’s hair as he holds her tight. “I’m so sorry, Emma,” he whispers through choked tears.

 “It's not your fault,” she tells him repeatedly, but he can’t help but blame himself. Ever since Emma came here, she’s been in danger, and it’s all because his mother wanted him to sire an heir. There is not one single part of him that regrets choosing Emma, but what price will he have to pay for loving her? What price will they have to pay?

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 Emma wakes the next morning feeling extremely sore and tired, as expected, but somewhat at ease knowing Faraji is locked in the dungeon and can no longer bring harm to her or her child. Killian had stayed with them the entire night, never leaving their side. 

 He is gentle with her, like always, rubbing her belly, covering her in his sweet kisses, singing soft lullabies to their baby that his mother had sung to him when he was a young prince. He makes Emma feel loved and cherished, giving her the strength to tell him what had happened. How Faraji sought revenge, how he'd wanted her to have his child so Killian would think she betrayed him.

 Killian goes wild upon learning the details of what her attacker had done to her. He transforms from a kind, loving man to an enraged vengeful Sultan who wants to tear Faraji’s head off. And she’s not opposed. 

 He wants her to stay in bed while he deals with the prisoner, but she refuses. She wants to accompany the Sultan, and after what happened, he does not dare refuse her wish. So he carries her down to the dungeon in his arms and gently lets her down. He enters the dungeon and she follows cautiously behind him, shuddering when she sees Faraji shackled in irons. The memories of what he’d done to her come rushing back, but she faces him, showing no fear. 

 He sneers at her with a spine-chilling smile, one the Sultan quickly wipes off his face with his fist, leaving the prisoner's mouth full of blood and a broken tooth which he spits out on the floor. 

 “You will pay gravely for what you have done to my wife... for what you tried to do to our child,” Killian assures him in a sinister tone. He appears to be calm, but there’s a storm brewing inside him. Emma can see it in his eyes. 

 The prisoner smiles, blood and saliva dribbling down his chin. “Please, after what your father did to me, death shall be my savior.”

 Killian chuckles darkly as he wraps his hand around Faraji’s neck, pinning him to the wall. What the prisoner hadn’t considered was that first he would be brutally tortured. “Don't worry, your death wish will be granted... eventually. Until then, you will beg me to kill you quickly, but unfortunately for you, death will not be so simple.”

 Traditionally, Killian’s executioners carry out this task, but Killian wants nothing more than to do the deed himself. He temporarily removes the wraps from his wounds and examines the damage his wife had done to him, grinning proudly. Though, in his eyes, she was far too kind. 

 The Sultan first extracts information from Faraji to find out if there is anyone else who is after Killian out of revenge against his father. He also questions him about the potions and demands to know how Faraji procured them. When he doesn't speak, the Sultan slowly removes Faraji’s toenails with red-hot pincers, eliciting blood-curdling screams and cries that could wake the dead. He shrieks out praises to his tribal gods, sweat pouring down his body. Killian uses several torture devices until Faraji is mutilated and many of his bones are broken. 

 Emma watches the entire time, sitting stoically in the Sultan's throne which was brought down for her. She's wearing a dark green, silk gown and a matching cap on her head, clutching at her cloak to keep out the dampness and bone-chilling cold of the dungeon.

 Killian whips the prisoner and tortures him for hours, even after Faraji insists he knows of no one who is after Killian. He also tells the Sultan he stole the potions from Regina, who had hoped to use them to bear a child. 

 Of course he’d procured them from her. The doctor told Regina she’d never be able to conceive. So it makes sense she would find a way. The question is, who did she planning on using the potions with?

 Her green eyes never leave Faraji's, the two empty voids revealing nothing but hate as he mocks her with a dark smile and reminds her what he'd planned on doing to her. “It's too bad it didn't work out between us,” he says cruelly, licking his lips as he leers at her. "Our baby would have been a true beauty."

 Crunch. 

 Another tooth falls out when Killian punches him in the face to silence him. 

 "You would not have lived to see it," Killian snarls, his eyes black as he glares at the prisoner in repulsion. 

 "And nor would she. You would have executed her for betraying you."

 Killian grits his teeth, and the silk of his robes ripple in the light of the oil lamps as he swiftly moves behind the prisoner, the crack of the whip echoing through the dungeon as he works on Faraji’s back. “Emma would never betray me.” Whop-eesh.

 Her lips twist into a slight smile. He trusts her. He knows she would never lay with another man.

 “Yes, it's pretty pathetic how loyal she is to you…” Faraji spits out, “a Sultan. It will only be a matter of time before you toss her away and take another wife.”

 Whop-eesh.

 Killian doesn't bother to waste any more words on him. Instead, he finds new ways to torture him, making sure to remind Fariji the reason why he’s carrying out the particular torture. He removes each of Faraji’s fingers for putting his hands on Emma, he cuts out Faraji’s tongue for kissing her, and with the blade of his dagger, he pierces through the skin of his penis for trying to penetrate and rape her.

 “I would remove your testicles, but it looks like my wife did already,” Killian smirks darkly, pressing the tip of the blade into Faraji’s wound, causing him to squeal like a pig.

 When Killian is done with him, he has the executioners carry Faraji outside to the decapitation stone, barefoot, battered, dripping blood behind him, with shackled feet and fingerless hands cuffed behind his back. James, his generals, imperial guards and counselors are all dressed in their ceremonial robes as they assemble around the stone. Killian remains inside, behind a latticed window, holding Emma in his arms, a soothing hand on her belly as they watch.

 James looks at the prisoner in disgust. He’d wanted to behead Faraji himself when he’d discovered what he'd done to Emma, who knows her uncle is doing his best to maintain some sort of semblance so Killian doesn't grow suspicious. James turns to look at Killian for his approval to carry out the execution.

 Emma is surprised when Killian seeks her consent. “Is this what you want, love?”

 A tear slides down her cheek as she gently rubs her belly above Killian's hand and gives him a nod. “He tried to murder our baby,” she mutters through a choked sob. “Get rid of him. I never want to look at his face ever again.”

 Killian briefly squeezes his eyes shut as they redden and well up with tears. He pulls her closer, tightening his arms around her. She peers through the window with her head against his chest as he nods and makes a quick motion with his hands to give the order for execution. 

 The butcher is a deaf-mute so he cannot be swayed by screams of pain or supplications for mercy; in this case, verbal pleas are impossible since Faraiji does not have a tongue. He shoves Faraji to his knees and forces him to bend over the decapitation stone. He grabs his killic, swinging it a couple of times in the air to warm up his arm muscles, before approaching the prisoner from behind. The blade glitters in the sunlight as the executioner raises the killic above his head, and with a single, expert swing, he severs Faraji’s head, sending it flying to the cobblestone, blood spurting over the decapitation stone and the pavement as a fountain of blood gushes from the neck. Faraji’s eyes are fixed on Emma through the window, as though he's intentionally taunting her, even after his death. 

 She gasps and buries her face in Killian’s shoulder. He caresses her hair, whispering soft endearments in her ear. “He's gone, love. He can't hurt you anymore.”

 Emma can tell by the way he strokes her hair, by the shaky breaths he takes that he still blames himself for this. When she lifts her head to look at him, she can see the shame and regret swarming his sea blue depths. “It’s not your fault,” she murmurs, running a gentle hand over his stubbled cheek. 

 “I'm the one who brought the guards here. If I hadn't, you wouldn't have been attacked.”

 “Faraji was hellbent on revenge after what your father had done to him. There was no way you would have known. But Lancelot did nothing.”

 “But that is a problem, love. He did nothing to protect you,” Killian mutters bitterly.

 “He tried to stop me from going to the garden but I was too stubborn to heed his warning. He didn’t know Faraji would attack me. Besides, I can protect myself,” Emma states adamantly, a small smile finally tipping her lips as she recalls the sounds he’d made as she had taken his manhood from him.

 Killian smiles in return and lifts his hand to her face, the pad of his thumb stroking her cheek. “That is true, my love, you are capable of looking out for yourself.” He expels a frustrated sigh. “I’m just sorry it took me almost losing you to figure that out. But that doesn’t change the fact that Lancelot did not perform his job properly, and therefore he must be punished accordingly.”

 “Please don’t, Killian,” Emma pleads, her eyes welling with tears. “He’s a good man. Please leave Lancelot be. Let him be free.”

 Killian raises a brow, taken off guard by her request. He’d known she didn’t want to bring Lancelot punishment, but relieving him of slavery? It’s the last thing he would’ve considered for the bodyguard. Lancelot hadn’t done all he could to protect Emma, and though she shows him forgiveness and sees no wrong in him, when Killian’s loved ones are concerned, he cannot ignore carelessness. He surely can't let it go rewarded. “You want me to free him?”

 She nods, cupping his cheeks in her hands. “I think my history with bodyguards is proof that they’re only more harm to me than good. Please release Lancelot, do not punish him for Faraji’s sins.”

 Killian closes his eyes, relishing her touch. He takes a contemplative breath and opens his eyes, peering into those sparkling emerald orbs staring back at him from behind her long dark lashes. Freeing Lancelot it is the last thing he wants to do, but he will never be able to forgive himself if Emma ends up resenting him for it. If Killian carries out his punishment and sells him to another a slaver. He only wants her to be happy. “If that is what you wish, I will make Lancelot a free man.”

 Emma gasps in surprise, her eyes widening as she searches his face for any indications that he might only be only saying that to appease her. But she finds none. “Really?”

 He nods, gracing her with a small smile. “Really. I want you to be happy and if that means freeing Lancelot, then I will obey. I will release him before our baby is born. You have my word, my love.”

 Emma smiles happily and kisses him, a tear sliding down her cheek. “Thank you, Killian. Thank you,” she whispers.

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 Later that night, Killian helps her out of her garments, gently pulling off her chemise. Emma is embarrassed at first and covers herself, one arm draped over her breasts and the other over her stomach.

 Killian’s heart cracks as she tries to shield herself from him. “Love, you don't have to hide from me,” he assures in a soothing tone, reaching out a hand to caress her cheek.

 “I don’t wish for you to see me like this, Killian.” Her eyes fall to the floor. “I am ashamed of how I look.”

 Killian’s features cloud with sadness as he lifts her chin, urging her to look at him. “You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he murmurs softly. “Remove your hands, please. I wish to see you.”

 Emma nods, unwilling to refuse his command. She slowly drops her arms, revealing her entire naked form.

 Killian steps back so his eyes can drink in the full view. Bruises cover her body, and though he’s angered she had to endure them, his breath is taken away by her beauty. Her stomach is big and round and gorgeous, carrying what he can only imagine is just as beautiful and perfect as his wife is. “Stunning,” is all he can say, his mouth watering as his eyes scroll down her body.  

 Her cheeks color with a slight blush, her eyelids fluttering as she looks at him. “Only a man as good as you is capable of flattering an expectant mother in this position,” she says playfully, a small smile curving her lips.

 “It’s the truth, my love,” he whispers, stepping closer to her, his hands itching to touch her. He does just that, his hands gently caressing her curves, her pregnant belly, her swollen breasts, coaxing soft murmurs from her lips. He kneels before her and places kisses over her belly, whispering soft nothings to their baby as she runs her hands through his hair. “Killian…” she coos, her eyes locking with his when he looks up at her. “If My Sultan does not stop, I may beg you to make love to me.”

 Killian closes his eyes and rests his forehead against her stomach, having to restrain himself immensely. He does not want to risk harming their wee one. So he rises, cupping her cheeks in his hands as he softly kisses her lips. He covers her in a white, silk robe and leads her to his bath where he bathes her from head to toe, making sure to kiss every bruise and mark on her body to let her know he loves every... single... part of her. 

 When she is thoroughly cleaned, he helps her into her robe and carries her to his chamber. They slip into bed, underneath the covers, and he holds her tightly in his arms, his mind weighing heavy with thoughts. 

 He’s still upset with himself for what had happened. He still blames himself. As Emma lies next to him, her angelic face buried in his chest, he can't help but wonder if she would be better off in Misthaven. Her parents could take care of her and give her the parental love she craves and deserves. The thought saddens him, it makes his heart hurt so bloody much, but he wants his Swan to be safe. Even if that means he has to let her go.

 “Emma…” he murmurs softly, getting her attention. 

 She slowly lifts her head to look at him. “Yes, my love?”

 He gets lost in her eyes as she awaits an answer. She’s so enchanting and lovely and intelligent, he doesn’t wish to let her go, but he knows he has to. He has to let her and their baby go. He has to accept his fate. His fate of eternal loneliness and darkness. Because that’s all he deserves.

 “Emma…” His voice cracks, so he clears his throat as he caresses her cheek. “Emma, I think you should return to Misthaven.” 

 Her face falls in confusion. “What?”

 “I think… I think you and our baby will be much safer there.” As he says the words, his eyes fill with tears and his heart physically hurts.

 Emma pushes herself up, shocked as she stares at him in disbelief. “You… you want me to leave?”

 He shakes head. “God, no. But you were almost…” he swallows thickly, unable to finish his sentence. “And our unborn child could be dead. Neither of you is safe here, Emma.”

 Her eyes glisten with tears and she shakes her head furiously. “I am not going anywhere. I did not endure what I did to be tossed away.”

 “Emma, I would never toss you away,” he says, tears falling down his cheeks. “I only want what is best for you. For our child.”

 She shakes her head again and raises her voice. “Leaving you is not what is best! Our child will be without a father! And what if he is a boy? The Sultan’s prince cannot be parted from him!”

 More tears fall from his eyes as he cups her cheeks in his hands. “So we fake your deaths. You’ll both escape and no one ever has to know you’re both alive and well. No one will be able to hurt either of you again.”

 Her eyes widen. She’s completely appalled he would even suggest such a thing. “That’s absurd! I will not go! You cannot make me!” She breaks down into tears and he sits up, holding her tightly in his arms. “I refuse to leave you,” she mumbles into his chest through her tears.

 His heart crumbles into a million pieces. There’s nothing in the world worse than seeing his Swan cry, unless her tears are happy ones. But these are definitely not. “I don’t want you to leave,” he whispers, rubbing her back. “I don’t want to lose you. Which is why I will not force you to go if you are against the idea. But just know, you can leave if that is your wish.”

 Emma lifts her head, her eyes puffy and red as he wipes her tears away with his thumb. “I would never wish to leave you.” She cups his cheeks in her hands, capturing his lips, which are wet with his tears, and now hers as she mumbles against them. “I love you, Killian, and I will be by your side for as long as you can stand me.”

 Killian smiles weakly as he presses his forehead against hers. “Then, I’m afraid you will be stuck with me for eternity.”

 She laughs for the first time in days, and the gentle chime of her giggle revives his heart. It makes him smile.

 “Mmm, my favorite sound,” he murmurs, causing her grin to widen. “I love you, Emma. I love you both,” he adds, affectionately caressing her belly. “I will always love you.” 

 “Good,” she whispers, her eyes falling to his mouth.

 He catches the movement of her eyes and seals his promise with a long, searing kiss. He lifts his hands, sliding his fingers into her hair as they tumble onto the bed, their lips still latched. Despite the earlier events, they both fall into a deep, peaceful slumber in each other’s arms.

 ~*~

 They have breakfast the next morning in his apartment before he leaves to visit his mother to fill her in on what had happened. Though she's most likely already heard about the execution. But it’s important for him to have his bonding time with his mother. 

 Emma decides to stay in his chamber for a while longer before she grows restless and decides to return to the harem. She’s sure her friends are worried sick about her and she misses them, even though it's only been a few days since she’d seen them. She dresses and leaves, making her way down the golden road, still feeling a bit sleepy from the nap she’d taken. 

 She thinks about what Killian had offered her last night. Though she misses her family dearly, she could not bear to leave her Sultan wife-less and childless. She hates being away from him, she hates how little she sees him as it is, but the thought of never being with him again, never seeing his handsome face, never feeling his strong hands on her soft skin or being blessed with his tender kisses, never feeling the warmth of his body next to hers makes her ache all over. He is her family now, and so are her friends and uncle. She can’t bear to leave them. She does wish to see her parents and brother again and let them know she’s okay, but a Kadin leaving the empire to visit them would be impossible unless she found a way around it somehow. Even if she did, her parents wouldn’t understand her lifestyle here. They wouldn’t understand her love for a Sultan who rules a land where women count for less than animals.  

 Emma rubs her belly, which is fairly hidden underneath her layers of clothing as she wobbles along the corridor. She’s not as sore as she was yesterday, but still not able to move very fast, so it feels like everything is in slow motion. 

 She spots James emerging from a hall, and she's about to call for him, but something about him seems peculiar. He’s wearing his usual robes, but he appears to be lost as he looks in the direction opposite of her. He starts to head that way, but then stops and scratches the back of his head before he gets very far.

 Lifting a brow, she continues toward him until he's only a meter away. When he suddenly turns around changing directions, Emma stops frozen in her tracks.

 He pauses as well, donning the exact same, gobsmacked expression she does.

 She can’t believe it. But she can. The eyes, the face, the walk. How confused he is. How unfamiliar he is with the palace. She knows without a doubt it’s him. The question is how? Is she dreaming? 

 She steps up to him, reaching out to touch his cheek which does not hold a scar. Which feels pretty real to her.

 He lifts his hand to hers and with a broken smile and a broken whisper, he speaks, “Emma… I knew I’d find you.”

 “Papa?”

@courtorderedcake @teamhook @onceuponaprincessworld @nikkiemms @followbatb @resident-of-storybrooke @hollyethecurious @snowbellewells @artistic-writer @ultraluckycatnd @kmomof4 @darkcolinodonorgasm @lovepurplepumpkins @kiwistreetswan @therooksshiningknight @deathbycaptainswan @tiganasummertree @superchocovian @emeraldwitches

[ginnyzero]

Completely Harmless Ch. 32

Completely Harmless An SSO SilverGlade Re-imagining Story (Or Fix it Fan Salt fic) By Ginny O.

When Lily and her friends wanted to buy horses and were directed to the Silverglade Manor and its myriad of problems, they didn’t expect to start a revolution. They were just a bunch a stable girls. Completely harmless. Right?

A/N: Things are only canon if I say they’re canon. Pre-Saving the Moorland Stables compliant for the most part. Posted in its entirety on my website. Posted in 2000 to 4000 word bits here. Rated T for Swearing Word Count 177,577

Chapter Thirty-Two Meeting JoJo Siwa! Rainbow-adical!

At lunch, the Baroness approached Lily. “Who is Jojo Siwa?” She asked after complimenting them on the cloud display in the stable. (She found it elegant and impactful.)

“She’s a pop singer who’s headlining the festivities in Moorland. She’s from the United States,” Lily told her. “Her songs are on J-Tube.”

The baroness tilted her head and slightly pursed her lips. “I would like to meet her. Invite her to dine with me tonight. I doubt she’ll have time once the festivities start. All of you are invited.”

Lily blinked. “I, yes, I’ll do that. Thank you, Baroness Silverglade.”

The Baroness smiled softly and left.

“I, um,” Lily looked at all the other girls. “Is she even in Jorvik yet?”

“She’s staying at Fort Pinta Inn,” one of the girl’s said. “She had the choice between that and Silverglade. The festival stand is halfway between pretty much. I think she’s hanging out at the Disco?” She checked her phone and Jorvikgram. “Yeah, she’s at the disco.”

“Then, um,” Lily finished her lunch and looked at her outfit. She didn’t think she wanted to see Jojo looking like this, not to invite her to see the Baroness over dinner! “I better change.”

“Right. You want to make a good impression.”

“I’m the Baroness’ lady,” Lily said mock seriously.

They giggled.

“And we’ll start on the balloons.”

“And get the bunting on the paddock.”

“And we’re going to put the little clouds and hearts through the Silver Glade track and all the trees on the side of the road across the bridge and towards Silverglade Village.”

“And the ones in the grape fields. Balloons too.”

“Get the fences. Can’t forget the fences.”

“Because you never know who is going to take a ride through the fields during the festivities.”

Lily just nodded.

“We’ve got this under control, boss.” Pauline grinned at her.

“You represent our stable!” Regina shook her fist in front of her face.

“This isn’t pokemon!” Several of them yelled at her.

Lily retreated as Regina started arguing that the stable was like a gym. She looked over her clothes and decided on the midriff baring Baroness bow blouse in lavender and grape with her pair of white baroness capri pants and silverglade clan sneakers in lavender with the mulberry stripe. It was a good balance between showing appreciation for Jojo Siwa (bow blouse) and pride in her club. On a whim, she kept the sparkly bow in her hair.

She took the transport to Fort Pinta and left her horse at the stable. She had to smile because the farmer’s cart near the stable had changed their awning for one with rainbow stripes. And well, the girls in Fort Pinta had the same ideas they had had on how to use the decorations around the stable area and in the huge courtyard with the fountain.

Saffi and Selma mobbed her before she got halfway across the courtyard to gush at her about wearing the bow and how great it looked.

Lily grinned. “Thanks. I think it’s fetching.” She touched it briefly. “We have a lot of girls interested in supporting Jojo over the next week.”

Saffi and Selma squealed. “Girl power!”

“Girl power,” Lily agreed with a grin and bumped their knuckles.

Her outfit changed was all for the good. Jojo was on the disco balcony, not quite looking bored. “Oh, you’re awesome!” She shouted and pointed at Lily.

Lily posed and pointed back. “No! You’re awesome!”

Jojo laughed.

Lily sauntered over to her. She held out her hand. “Lily, President of the Silver Drakes Riding Club.”

Jojo smacked it. “Jojo Siwa! But, err, you probably know that.” She tugged Lily closer. “Selfie!” She said holding up her phone and snapping a pic of both of them. She let Lily go after.

Lily grinned. “I do. I follow Jorvikgram like everyone else.”

Jojo waved her phone. “You’re part of my jorvikgram story now!” She said as she posted the picture.

“I’ll be sure to download it,” Lily promised. “My Club is looking forward to coming to watch the show.”

“Radical!” Jojo looked excited. Her eyes darted back and forth. “You want a dance lesson first. Just so you can be on the edge of coolness.”

“Sure,” Lily agreed.

Jojo led her through some of her signature moves. “You’ve got it!”

Lily laughed. “I’ll teach the other girls and we’ll do a show.”

“Maybe if you’re good enough you can get up behind me and be my, like, back up dancers.”

“That’d be great.” Lily wrinkled her nose. To her, Jojo seemed a bit lonely. It had to be tough being alone on Jorvik. “Say, I have an invite for you. Actually, it’s not an invite. It’s more like an order to appear. Baroness Silverglade wants you to join her for dinner. It’s kind of like,” Lily paused. “Okay, not the mayor, since the mayor of this town is a pony, but more like the President of the area asking. She owns a lot of land around here and she wants to know more about you.” Lily made finger guns at Jojo.

Jojo’s eyes widened. “Really. Um, wow.”

“I don’t think you’re really getting the option to refuse.”

“What should I wear?”

“Well, the Baroness likes roses and purple. If you have a nice dress, tonight would be the time.”

“I have, like, the perfect thing! This is going to be so cool. What is she like?”

“Ice queen, but she does have a soft heart. She cares a lot about this area and her people. I hope you like Greek food. If you don’t, um, Antonia, her chef, makes this apple smothered pork chop that’s to die for, not literally, but it’s delicious.”

“I am down with the Greek food.” Jojo fiddled with her sequin dress. “Um, Lily, I’m supposed to go meet someone named Loretta at this festival site. But the only transportation they have around here is horses.”

“Haven’t been on them much?”

“Not really. Come with.”

“Absolutely,” Lily agreed without reservation. She should check on what the Bobcat girls were doing for decorating the area anyways. One never knew with Loretta. “I think Tan is a mega Siwa fan. She’s Loretta’s right hand girl. If it’s not right, Tan will get it fixed. Come on, you can meet my horse, and we’ll find you a nice pony.”

“A pony?”

“They aren’t so far from the ground,” Lily winked. She actually liked Jojo. She didn’t want to intimidate her like she’d intimidated James.

Jojo relaxed slightly. “Sweet.”

They went to the stable and after making sure Jojo met Mayor Peanut, who through James, had greetings for her. She took selfies with him. Lily introduced Jojo to her horse. More pictures of Lily and the horse together mostly. And then, they found her a nice steady Jorvik Starter Pony to ride. Jojo took a self of her and the horse together.

On the ride, Jojo was full of questions about how long Lily had been in Jorvik and was it all so rural and did she like it and so on and so forth. Lily answered freely enough. She didn’t mind telling Jojo about herself. She made it a point to point out special things about the parade route. The Bobcat Girls and the Ponies had worked the rainbow and sequin streamers into the ivy, and put rainbow sequin swag bunting and the big bows both inside and outside of the archways. There were huge bunches of ombre rainbow balloons too.

On the fences, they’d put more bows, and swags of sequin bunting, and bracketed the places where they ended with balloons. At the base of the fence post, they’d put the lanterns. Lily took a picture and texted it to one of the girls.

Jojo bounced in the seat of her saddle and took pictures. Her fingers flew over the keys as she captioned them.

“On it!” She got a response to her text from Regina.

Tan met them as they entered the site, jumping up and down and waving. She was ecstatic to point out the decorations.

At the festival site, there was more of the same, lots of sequin swag bunting, lots of bows, tons of balloons. One of the carts with a rainbow awning had set up to sell merchandise. They had set up a photo wall with both pastel and bright color rainbow curtains behind it but they were all sequins. There were bows and gold beads too.

Jojo insisted on doing several selfies and included both of them.

Tan gestured at a tent with a rainbow awning.

“For the friendship bracelets and to make the bows,” Tan explained.

They’d left a large empty area in front of the stands.

“So everyone can dance,” Tan said as to why all the benches were further back. “We’re having our rainbow swirl sugar cookies and milk. The Farmer’s Market is just over the fence so we thought it’d be too much to have food.”

Jojo’s eyes widened. “There’s a farmer’s market.”

“Sure, it’s free for anyone to go to,” Lily said. “If you want to check it out.”

“Do I ever!”

Tan jumped in. “I can take you if you want! Linda sent over these program flyers for the craft tent with a map so everyone knows where to go.” She jogged off and came back. “Here. I hope you get some time to go to all the festivities between sets.”

Jojo read it over. “This is so awesome. I can’t believe you’re doing this much stuff. I’ll definitely have to get around. I don’t know if I’ll have time to see the other performers though. Bummer.”

“There’s a charm bracelet in it for you if you do,” Tan said. “I’ll come with you and we can collect the charms together.”

Jojo grinned. “I’m sure Selma and Saffi would like to come too. This will be great.”

Lily nodded at Jojo. “Well, I need to check in with Loretta then. You two have fun at the Farmer’s Market and I’ll see you tonight at dinner. I’ll make sure Godfrey comes to pick you up.”

“Godfrey?”

“The butler.”

“Butler. Got it.” Jojo nodded. She grinned at Lily. “Thanks for taking the time to come with me.”

“She’s renting a pony from Fort Pinta stables,” Lily said to Tan.

“I thought it looked like one of theirs. I mean, though, why would you be out to see the Welshies on South Hoof yet. Though you really got to do it. Have you ever ridden with a wild horse herd? It’s so totes amazing!” Tan beamed at Jojo.

Jojo looked a bit leery. “I’m down,” she said trying to be game.

Lily took off. “Dinner’s at six,” she called over her shoulder.

Lily rode down to Moorland Stable proper. There were tons of camper wearing Jojo bows and they grinned at hers pointing at their heads. Lily gave them a thumbs up.

They gave her thumbs up back.

Lily was quite relieved to see that the Bobcat girls had managed to use the rainbow decorations instead of the pink ones. She stopped by Julie next to one of the entrance gates. “Any problems?”

“Conrad won’t let us decorate the forge. We’re going to do it anyways,” Julie eyed her nails. “Do you think I should do a rainbow manicure? That’s the thing right?”

“If you want, maybe one gold nail, to be hip,” Lily advised. It wasn’t that the Bobcat Girls were bad people. They were just a bit vapid and shallow.

“I better wait until I don’t have any chores left to do.” Julie sighed. “We haven’t been able to recruit anyone else. They all want to run off and form new clubs.” She glowered at Lily.

“Viva la revolution.” Lily said blandly. She tipped an imaginary hat to Julie and trotted around the stable to check on Loretta.

Loretta widened her eyes at her. “You will not believe all the trouble putting up these decorations has caused. Josh is refusing to talk to me after I put hearts on his poles.”

“Poor baby,” Lily said. “It looks nice.”

She looked towards the Pole Bending track. Josh knelt next to his poles with his hat knocked back and a roll of tape meticulously taping down each heart. She wasn’t getting involved. Nope. Let Josh and Loretta sort it out between them.

“And I told him that it’s Rainbow Week. Unless the skulls were painted like rainbows, they had to go. Now he’s threatening to leave Moorland. I don’t know what his problem is? This is Rainbow Week and it has to go off perfectly. Tan’s so busy setting up the festival site making sure it’s perfect for Jojo that I’m not sure she’s going to get the parade outfits done in time.”

“Jojo seems pleased with the site.”

“Something’s going right then,” Loretta huffed. “I don’t know why she decided to come up with new parade outfits, last years were fine. I mean, they’re black with black.”

“I thought they were nice. They had the black vest with the black capris, right?”

“Yeah, but no, ‘the power of friendship compels me’ or something. I told her that it better not be anything like Daxton’s rainbow vest. It had better be fashionable or I’m not wearing it.”

“It can get rather loud very quickly,” Lily agreed. “That was the danger in the decorations too.”

Loretta wrinkled her nose. “That might be the first thing we’ve ever agreed on.”

“Well, as long as Tan hasn’t taken them apart, you still have last years if hers turn out to be not fashionable.”

“True,” Loretta chewed her lip.

Things looked under control enough. Lily rode through the stable area to check out all the different decorations. She breathed a sigh of relief. No one had tried to sneak the pink things in at all. A quick tour through the other courtyard revealed their photo wall set up in front of Moorland’s distinctive camp office.

Lily took the transport back to the winery and directly into some teasing about her adventures with Jojo.

“As Tan says, don’t be jelly,” Lily rolled her eyes. “Jojo’s an enthusiastic and sweet girl.”

They all giggled.

“You’ll meet her soon enough for dinner,” Lily sighed. “And you can get your selfies with her then.”

“I think we’re about done,” Pauline said.

“It looks great,” Lily said. There were bunches of balloons everywhere to fill up space. It really made the whole thing come together and not look tacked on. “Where is everyone else?”

“Decorating the pavilion and setting up our photo wall,” Pauline said. “We’ve got the supplies for the crafts locked up in the tack room right now. I think we can lock them up in the arena overnight.”

“That sounds like a good plan.”

“Make it so,” Pauline said and texted it out.

Lily rolled her eyes. “While you’re making me out like Captain Picard, Number One. Tell everyone to dress nicely for dinner. Dresses.”

Pauline nodded. “We better rotate shower time.”

Lily decided she better inspect everything. She wanted to have a good report for the Baroness.

--

Jojo Siwa slid out of the car in front of the huge Greek style manor and looked around, her eyes huge in her face. She smoothed her skirt.

Lily darted forward to greet her. “Jojo, glad you came.”

“You didn’t say it was so fancy,” Jojo whispered.

“Baroness implies fancy,” Lily implied. “You look great.” And Jojo did. She’d put an ombre purple sequin bow in her hair which was thankfully down instead of her signature ponytail. The top of her dress had a huge blown out rose done in smaller sequins on it. It covered her entire chest. The skirt was a darker purple large sequins and the sleeves matched the skirt. Her ballerina flats had bows on them too. Fortunately, only the bows had sequins.

Lily didn’t know what the Baroness felt about sequins. It didn’t matter. Jojo looked decent.

“You look nice too.”

Lily glanced down at her Winery Rose Evening dress. She didn’t think the white color made it any less formal but it matched Pauline’s lace dress she’d bought at the Jorvik Shopping mall color wise. “Francezka Ironsaddle, big Jorvik designer. She did all our outfits. The Silver Rose opens tomorrow,” Lily gestured at the building almost hidden now behind the trees in the reflecting pool. “Well, not all of our dresses, Francezka only designed three and it is difficult to find nice dresses here on Jorvik.” Lily tucked her arm around Jojo’s and led her up the stairs. “Try not to let her intimidate you.”

“Too late,” Jojo said.

The girls were waiting inside beaming brightly. Lily made introductions and Jojo kindly did pictures with all of them.

“Okay, phones away,” Lily said once they were done. “And on silent!”

They all tucked phones away.

Godfrey opened the doors of the dining room promptly at six. The Baroness stood up to greet them at the head of the table. There was gleaming crystal glasses, elegant china, and more silver flatware than most of them had ever seen.

Lily introduced Jojo to the Baroness.

“Ms. Siwa, please, take a seat on my right.” And a glance at Lily had Lily seated at her left. Linda sat next to Lily. In fact, everyone who worked at the Manor and even Anastasia and Aaron were in attendance. The girls took up the middle of the long table while Aaron ruled the other end with his sister. (Anastasia’s dog had its own chair.)

The Baroness asked Jojo about herself as the soup course came out, the lemon chicken soup Lily noted. Jojo was happy to talk about herself, her music and the messages she tried to sing about friendship, being kind, and supporting each other, and her v-log. Though Linda had to interrupt to tell the Baroness what a V-Log was.

“A visual diary for the public, how, interesting,” the Baroness said politely.

Pauline sat next to Jojo and with low voice prompts managed to get her to talk about Jorvik and meeting the Jorvik Starter Ponies and since Jojo phrased everything enthusiastically (like they figured she would) the Baroness didn’t get offended over anything. Jojo loved Silverglade Castle and raved about the food she’d had at the Farmer’s Market.

Anastasia managed to slip in a question about Jojo’s fashion style.

Lily had no idea what the Baroness was hoping to learn or Anastasia for that matter.

After one of Aaron’s sundaes, it was time for Jojo to leave.

The Baroness walked her out to Godfrey’s car. “Ms. Siwa, it’s a pleasure to see young people in this day with such passion and enthusiasm for what they do. You appear quite genuine rather than being an act. You’re always welcome to back to my part of Jorvik.”

Jojo brightened. “Thank you!” She gasped and got in the car.

Godfrey smiled at his employer nodding in approval before he got in the driver’s seat and took Jojo back to Fort Pinta.

Lily concluded that probably couldn’t have gone any better.

FOR THE ACCOMPANYING IMAGES PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE MY WATERMARK AND CONTACT INFORMATION. THANK YOU. I get it. Some of you might get excited and want to see this stuff in the game, especially the clothes, tack, and pets. However, the only way I want to see this in the game is if I get paid for it. If I see it in the game and I’m not paid for it, there will be hell to pay. You think I’m salty. I’d be angry. Personally, I’m not going to send this info to SSO. If you do, leave my contact information there! Don’t give them any excuses to steal.

Now, I’ll know you haven’t read this note if you leave me comments about how ‘salty’ I am about the game and if I hate it so much I should do something else. I am doing something else. It’s called Mystic Riders MMORPG Project. Mystic Riders however is a very baby phase game. You can check out our plans on the game dev blog. (Skills, Factions, Professions, Crafting, Mini-Games, 25+ horse breeds!) If you know anyone who would be interested and has money or contacts about game making, direct them to the blog.

[lotornomiko]

Light Grasping Darkness Chapter Five (Of Six Sorta in between work safe and not worksafe...)

Emma POV...almost to the end...!

  It was stupid of her to have stopped. Hesitation of any kind would most likely get her killed, and even understanding that, Emma had still done it all the same. Wanting, NEEDING one last look at the pirate, emotions bubbling within her, words freezing in her throat at the sight of him. Not that Emma had known what to say in this situation. A situation that STILL felt unreal, Emma having had what amounted to the most intense, insane, greatest and ultimately tiring sex of her life. And with a pirate of all things. With captain fucking Hook, the man a story book legend of at least several worlds.

Of course the books had NEVER come close to mentioning Hook's attractive charm and appeal, his flirtatious ways, or the fact that he was amazing as a lover. No, the books hadn't touched upon that, or the sculpted perfection of his body, his rugged yet handsome dark looks, or the way his eyes turned black in sexual frenzy as he growled and fucked his way to climax.

It was a look that was now seared into her brain, that and dozens upon dozens of other intimacies Emma knew that she would never forget. She had been woefully unprepared for the reality of Captain Hook, for the attraction that had blazed between them from the start, and just as unprepared to learn that fairy tales didn't stop at just a kiss. She had her tired body as proof of that, bruised and sore in places that had been well used.

Emma hurt, and it didn't have all to do with overused muscles. Her feelings were stirred, conflicted and confused, ready to blur the line between lust and love. She had a connection now with Hook, forged in the heat of hours passed, the sex offering up a tenacious bond that could either be strengthened or shattered.

Confused as she was, Emma wasn't sure which extremes she leaned towards. Resentment actually curled inside her, Emma knowing that the situation she and Hook found themselves in, didn't allow room for a choice to be freely made. Because so long as Hook was the Dark One and under that terrible compulsion to kill her, that fledgling bond of theirs could only break.

Emma didn't know what the future held. Didn't know if she even had a future left to her. The frustration bloomed within her, Emma realizing she would never get to follow through on the messy complications caused by having mad, passionate, ultimately fantastic sex with Captain Hook. And it wasn't fair! Even if he was an over confidant, aggravating, and downright smug pirate, even if she didn't trust in happily ever after, or believe in true love's kiss, they should have had the right, the chance to make it or break it together.

Her eyes conveyed many things, a sad need in them. Hook's gaze showed he was suffering similar to Emma. They hadn't blurred the line, confusing sex for love, but they both were wanting more. A chance for something, anything other then what Cora and Regina would decide for them.

And then Hook was snapping at her, a hard edge to his expression that hadn't been there before. "Go!" He ordered of her, and flinching, the woman turned and ran out of the room. Her mind and feelings might be all torn up, but her emotions' conflict didn't stop her self preservation instincts from kicking in. Emma ran, keeping her hand on the hilt of her borrowed sword.

The smooth wood beneath her sock covered feet, made the way slippery. Her legs felt like jelly, in no condition to truly hold her up, let alone allow Emma to maintain running for very long. She slipped, slid, and stumbled her way through a narrow corridor, noting the sway of the floor, and realized she was on a ship just moments before she climbed the last step to the deck of what had to be the Jolly Roger.

Thankful that the ship hadn't been put out to sea, Emma's heart still constricted painfully in her chest at the sight of Storybrooke's harbor. It might be familiar ground, but the harbor was located almost exactly opposite of where she had to be, Emma knowing there was only one place she could go. Only one place that would be safe or so she hoped, Emma knowing she had to leave Storybrooke, actually cross it's magical and cursed boundary. Once past it, even if the Queens followed, their magic would become useless, stripping them of any real power. And their memories too, if Emma was really lucky.

It was a long shot in more ways than one. Emma hoped for the Queens to be cursed, to follow and lose everything, their magic, their memories, their evil. But if they couldn't, if things remained as they were, Emma and her family would have no choice but to leave Storybrooke. An idea that HURT, for Storybrooke had actually become home to Emma. It wasn't just the town, but the people who made up its population, the friends Emma cared about, the people she had protected for over a year's time as their sheriff. Emma might lose all that, AND the love of the parents she had only just begun to know, for David and Mary Margaret had no protection from the boundary's curse. They would forget their daughter, forget who they really were, even forget the danger that stalked them.

But for now Emma pushed aside thoughts of that, and the difficulties that would accompany her parents losing their true memories. She had to focus on getting to the town's limits, to luring her enemies to cross over after her. And she wasn't going to get far on foot, Emma cursing under her breath as she realized her car keys were in her pocket. Her jeans' pocket, the denim lost somewhere amid the mess of Hook's bedroom cabin floor.

Emma almost slowed, almost turned back the way that she had come. And it hadn't been all out of the desire to get her keys. Not when she had excitement thrumming through her at the mere thought that she would get to see him again. Excitement that couldn't be dimmed by the truth, by the knowledge that Emma would be risking her life to venture back into the pirate's den.

Recognizing she had been screwed in more ways than one, Emma continued her running. She was off of Hook's ship, and now running on the concrete of the harbor's grounds. Running in the direction that would lead to main street, to Gold's shop, to where her car was parked nearby. Hoping she would have enough of a head start to hot wire her own car, and hating the girlish impulses that had Emma wanting to imagine anything good could come of encountering Hook a second time.

Ever a practical woman, Emma forced herself to push aside her thoughts and foolish wants. She made herself think not on Hook, on what they had just shared, on what could have come as a result of it, and instead focused on her present. On the objectives she gave herself. Get to her car. Hot wire it. Then drive like a mad woman, breaking all known traffic laws to get to the town's limits. Worry about David and Mary Margaret later, hoping they were safe with Henry and Ruby, and that they hadn't been forced to cross over the cursed boundary early.

Emma almost made it to phase two of her plan, actually had her hand on the door of her beloved yellow car, when it happened. Her skin tingled with awareness, hairs raising on the back of her neck, and then she was spinning, Hook's borrowed sword in her hand. The naked metal gleamed with the shine of the street's spotlights, slicing through air and slamming into flesh. She felt as much as heard Hook's surprised grunt, the pirate not having tried to block or deflect her blade's attack.

"Hook!" She gasped like a fool, her heart's beat yammering away in her chest.

His eyes were a tormented blue, so sad and ridden with pain that had nothing to do with the wound her sword had inflicted into his flesh. Emma found it an ill fitting expression, Hook a man who should have been full of light and laughter, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Not looking so bleak and defeated, so tortured over what he had been made to do.

"Run." He said, not bothering with the sword in his side. His hand was gripping her arm, pulling Emma way from her car. Practically flinging her away from him, Hook sounding desperate as he repeated his urgings. "Emma quickly, run!"

She stumbled on the sidewalk, before gaining a steady footing. Nodding, Emma began to run, tossing back over her shoulder words at Hook to fight it. To fight the compulsion the queens had forced on him. She didn't get a reply, Hook busy making sounds, tortured moans chasing after her as the pirate fought against Cora's command.

The sounds made her chest tighten, Emma feeling for Hook. Feeling for his pain, for the agony he was going through, and that was before he screamed. Still running, Emma turned to look over her shoulder, and ran into something solid. Dread hit her, Emma knowing without looking that it was the pirate she had run into. Hook with his black leather, his sea salt taste, his spicy after shave, and a body she would forever now recognize by the fit, the feel of it against hers.

Wanting to melt against him, but stiffening instead, Emma tried to back away. But Hook was grabbing at her, his hand on her arm, his hook at her back. Locking her in a steel embrace, effortlessly pressing her wildly struggling body against his. He held her while Emma fought, trying to get a leg up, attempting to smash their heads together, anything to get free. She accomplished nothing save to tire herself out, Emma red faced and panting, her chest heaving in a painful manner.

"Emma, I'm sorry." Hook said, and it was made worse because he meant it.

"Fight it!" Emma cried out, her eyes flashing with desperation.

"I...I can't..." Hook whispered, his skin looking so pale with the admission. "I just don't have the strength anymore..."

"Damn you!" But she was sagging in his embrace, too tired to truly do anything more. She hadn't had enough sleep, wasn't getting enough air, was hurting too much all over. Emma was almost reaching the point of not caring, the last of her thoughts being devoted to Henry and her parents. Wishing they had enough time, hoping a cursed David and Mary Margaret would listen to and take seriously Henry's warnings.

Whispering apologies of her own, Emma thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, when the area around them blurred together. She shifted at Hook's voice, hearing him apologize once more, but from a distance.

"I'm sorry Emma. The orders have changed. I have to bring you to them..."

She let out a bitter sound at that, thinking that Regina probably wanted the satisfaction of killing Emma with her own hands. The dark haired queen would probably spend an insane amount of time gloating, bragging about how she would now be the only mother that Henry would ever know. Twisting the knife deeper in Emma, making her sick with the knowledge that her son, Henry, might end up stuck in the care of that spiteful, hateful woman forever.

The idea made her sick, but also angry, Emma standing up straighter in Hook's embrace. Willing herself to be tough, to be ready, arming herself with a sarcastic wit, and her fiercest glare. Making ready to face Regina one last time, to die with her spirit intact. Emma didn't think she stood a chance of surviving, but she would do her best to fill Regina with doubts, with fears and uncertainties about the kind of life she would have with Henry. Because Emma was certain that happily ever after would elude the woman. It had to, because Henry would never be able to love the woman who had killed his mother. She would be a monster in his eyes, and Emma would make her understand that in no uncertain terms.

Reality shimmered as she thought this, the dizzying effects of Hook's teleportation magic lessening, as the colors around them solidified into shapes. The familiar looking couch made her gasp, Emma recognizing this place as the apartment she shared with her son and her parents. A place she hadn't ever expected to see again, and Mary Margaret's glad shout wasn't so much music to Emma's ears, as the herald of the chaos that would follow.

Emma looked into Hook's eyes, seeing the confusion there mirrored her own. Her lips started to part, to ask Hook a question he surely didn't have the answer to. And then sound rushed in, Emma hearing a man, her father, shouting in a commanding tone of voice.

"Let her go, Hook!"

Immediately the arms around her loosened. Emma still stared at Hook, still did noting but stand there. Soft hands snatched at her arm, Emma being dragged from Hook's arms. She stumbled in the direction pulled, trying to turn when a woman pressed against her. Hugging her fiercely, nearly weeping in relief, Mary Margaret actually trembling as she held onto her daughter.

Stiff back and full of tension, Emma stared past her mother at Hook. He hadn't taken his eyes off the blonde, not even to acknowledge the approaching man. It wasn't until David was right in front of Hook, that the pirate truly looked at him, and only for a second before the prince was throwing a bone crunching punch.

Emma cried out when David's fist connected with Hook's face. She swore she saw red flecked spittle fly in the air, thought she felt the gathering of malevolent energies. She prepared herself to see Hook lash back at her father, actually tried to take a step in that direction. But Mary Margaret's hold went from comforting hug to restraining hold, the woman trying to keep her daughter out of what was happening.

Emma fought her, almost violent in her attempts to jerk free. Mary Margaret had no trouble holding on. Emma was simply too tired, too sore, too full of aches, to be at full strength. She felt weak, actually swayed as though she might faint, her eyes fluttering rapidly as David punched Hook a second time.

"Don't!" Emma cried out, but no one understood she was begging BOTH men to not take things any further.

Hook met her worried gaze, Emma thinking he would at least listen to her. But then David landed a third punch, and Hook snapped. He struck out with his arm, backhanding David across the face. He didn't try to temper his strength, the prince actually being thrown across the room. He landed against a counter in the kitchen, and something clattered to the floor with a loud echo of sound.

Expecting Hook to go for David, Emma was shocked when the pirate froze, staring transfixed at something on the floor. Not knowing what it could be, not daring to hope for any other result, Emma turned in Mary Margaret's grip. Her gaze went not to her father, who was unsteadily using the counter to help himself up off the floor, but the thing that had made that loud echoing sound.

It was too big to be a simple kitchen knife, too short to be a sword. It was in fact a dagger, but not just any one. It was the Dark One's dagger, the thing that both controlled him, and could kill him. That David had it wasn't as confusing as Emma might have thought, the woman realizing something major had had to have gone down. Something that had allowed the weapon to change hands, to give them the advantage they hadn't had before. Emma almost wanted to cry, so relieved to see the dagger was no longer in the queens' possession, even as she wanted to scream at her parents for risking themselves like that.

She never got the chance to do either, David and Hook exchanging a look. Tension crackled in that look, a split second decision made. Both of them moved, Hook almost faster than the eye could see, David lunging desperately for the dagger but still too slow. Hook was set to snatch the dagger off of the floor, when out of nowhere a burst of blue energy struck just before his hand.

With a wild sounding snarl, Hook pulled back his arm, whirling in place to track where that magic had come from. The dagger itself was airborne, David making a grab for it. and missing, It somersaulted slowly, almost as though it was floating instead of falling, and eventually landed in the palm of a feminine hand.

Silence followed, Emma blinking in stunned surprise. And it was a surprise, Storybrooke's Mother Superior having materialized from nothing to appear before them. Dressed in a nun's habit, the woman looked the picture of severe grace. However the blue tipped wand she held in her right hand, was completely out of place with her holy robes.

"It is done." She announced with a serene smile. The tension immediately whisked out of Mary Margaret, the woman almost swooning in place, relying on her daughter for support. Emma had no idea what had been done, and looked around the room, noting David still looked like he wanted to attack Hook.

As for the pirate, he seemed frozen in place, gritting his teeth in annoyance, but otherwise making no moves. His eyes were on the Mother Superior, his gazed riveted by the dagger she still held.

Shifting in place, Emma drew their attention to her, as she cleared her throat loudly. "Would someone be so kind as to tell me what the fuck is going on!?" Her no nonsense tone was meant to get answers, not cause Mary Margaret to start shaking with a laughter that was half sobbing.

"It's a long story." Mary Margaret managed to say, and Emma almost laughed and cried too, because she realized they now all had the time to hear such a lenghty tale.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To Be Continued....

[welllpthisishappening]

All Was Golden in the Sky (25/27)

Magic is dying.

Emma knows it. She can feel it, the emptiness rattling around in her, like it’s trying to make sure she disappears as well. What she doesn’t know is what to do about it, because, suddenly, there is a man in Storybrooke claiming she’s the Savior and a seeress certain a prophecy promises the same and the last thing she expects is for her minimal amount of lingering power to pull her away.

To New York City.

And another oddly familiar man with blue eyes and a smile that sinks under her skin and makes magic bloom in the air around her. Things are about to get interesting.

— Rating: Mature AN: This is the last of the “real” chapters as far as the main story goes. It’s also stupid long. Like, I am sorry there are so many words here. Two-part epilogue of future-type stuff looming because I have no self control. But, uh, first some kissing, some dancing, a coronation, and more kissing. 

|| Also on Ao3 if that’s your jam || 

She wakes with a start, the first few beams of sunlight drifting in through gauzy curtains. Emma blinks, trying to brush away bits of a dream she’s already starting to forget and it wasn’t a nightmare. It was softer, calmer, almost as if her subconscious was allowing her to actually rest while she was resting. 

It’s a nice change of pace. 

The empty bed she finds herself in, however, is not. 

Emma lets her head fall to the side, hand reaching out across rumpled sheets that are frustratingly cool. The dream’s getting further away, little pinpricks of moments that feel like smoke or something equally difficult to contain, but that also feels a little melodramatic and that’s not the emotion she’s looking for that morning. 

Coronation morning. And afternoon, for that matter. Coronation...day. 

There’s a ceremony and more pomp and circumstance than any of them are remotely prepared for, nearly a week after the toffee incident, rules and regulations and a ball because these sort of things always end with a ball. Emma’s almost looking forward to that part, actually. 

Her dress is ridiculous and she can’t really breathe, but she had, finally, agreed to a few hours of pinning and measuring between stealing toffee and stealing kisses and trying to, secretly, restore a pirate ship to its correct size. 

She’s not entirely sure why she’s been so intent on that last part. Will thinks she’s being stupid and, strictly speaking, Emma knows she should tell Killian. 

But she also knows he’s resigned himself to the Jolly’s miniature fate, not a word about it since Neverland and barely any time to discuss the envoy, ambassador-ship and, well--Emma is stubborn. 

She’s still trying to contend with this whole idea of hope. 

The thought of disappointing him makes her whole soul ache. Which is also, a little melodramatic, honestly. 

She licks her lips, letting her eyes roam the room and it only takes her a moment to realize where he’s gone. He hasn’t really gone anywhere. 

Killian shifts as soon as she does -- although whether that’s from the creak of the mattress or the jump of Emma’s magic is anyone’s guess -- a chair pulled towards the window and feet propped up on the sill. She can’t imagine how long he’s been there, but he hasn’t put a shirt on, enough skin to be distracting and Emma can see his lips quirk when she keeps staring. 

She brings the blanket with her when she moves. 

“It’s early, love,” Killian murmurs, head falling back when Emma’s fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“That’s my line.” “You don’t have to be awake.” “And you shouldn’t be,” Emma argues. She lets her nails drag across his skin, appreciating both the sound it makes and the goosebumps it creates, his eyes flashing her direction from under impossibly long eyelashes. “What are you looking at, exactly?” “The horizon.” “Is it doing something?” Killian chuckles, smile turning more obvious. “It’s calming.” “And do you need to be particularly calmed?” She doesn’t mean the question to sound as pointed as it does, hating the way the words fly out of her. They seem to land with a thump, a weight on the floor that barely misses her feet and it is definitely far too early for all of these metaphors. 

“That was shitty,” she mumbles, drawing another sound out of him. It’s almost a laugh. Maybe a slightly comedic exhale. He turns his head though, lips ghosting over her forearm and now she’s the one with goosebumps. 

“Not shitty, Swan. Early.” “We’re going in circles.” Killian hums, the sound working its way into Emma’s skin and settling into her bloodstream, more biological activities she doesn’t understand. He swings his feet down, letting his legs part so he can pull her between them, knees bumping against her thighs and the blanket she’s still inexplicably holding. 

She’s having a hard time thinking while he’s shirtless. 

And-- she’s loathe to realize she’s only just realized -- braceless. There’s no leather circling his arm, nothing wrapped around the end of his wrist. It’s, simply, skin and him, a warmth that’s better than the blanket.

“What time is it?” Emma whispers. She can’t entirely help it. 

Her fingers leave Killian’s hair. 

They fall to his shoulders, dragging across skin, tracing towards slightly bent elbows and neither one of them seems to be breathing, a tension that isn’t that. It’s...softer. Easier. Calming.

Killian’s eyes shut as soon as she touches the blunted end of his arm, over scar tissue and knotted skin. He moves with her, letting her pull and tug, suggestions without words, and whatever air he’d been holding flies out of him when Emma rests his arm against her waist. 

“Just after dawn.” “Early.” His head drops, resting against her stomach. “You can go back to sleep, love. Should, probably.” “Wow, tough crowd, huh?” “It’s going to be a long day.” “And yet here we are.” Killian inhales, nosing at Emma’s side and she can’t get much closer to him, but she might take a step forward anyway and his arm might tighten slightly, so maybe melodrama is the theme for a few minutes after dawn. “You know we haven’t officially decided.” “Decided what?” “Aw, c’mon,” she groans. “Tell me what you’re thinking. Please.”

Killian’s smile stretches across his face, measured and a little tired and she knows it’s the please that gets his head to snap up. Because it is impossibly early, but they also haven’t talked about it and the rest of the Misthaven royal whatever is starting to get impatient. 

And they do have to go home eventually. 

That’s also a strange word. A nice word. A hopeful word. 

Emma needs coffee. 

There is no coffee in Arendelle. 

“David asked me about it yesterday,” Killian says. “Wanted to remind me that it was our choice and something about no hard feelings, which I thought was a little ridiculous all things considered, but--” He shrugs, chin digging into the jut of Emma’s hip when he tilts his head up again. “--What have you been doing, Swan?” She’s not sure which reaction is more ridiculous -- the way her eyes feel like they’re about to fall out of her head or the magic that surges through every inch of her, leaving lights at the tips of her fingers and the ends of her hair. 

And it doesn’t really matter because both things make Emma’s knees go weak, the blanket falling to her ankles. 

“Are you kidding me?” Killian shrugs again, smile turning knowing and at some point Emma is going to document all the different looks he’s capable of making. At her. Or because of her. Whatever. “You’re woefully bad at deception,” he laughs, fingers dancing up her side and she’s not wearing pants. “Well, that’s distracting.” “Shouldn’t have left bed then.” “Aye, I’m starting to see that.”

Emma huffs, because she’s always charmed by this, but also because she really did think she was better at keeping secrets. “It’s not a bad thing,” she reasons, gritting her teeth when that sounds like an admission of guilt. Which she isn’t something she’s feeling. Yet. Maybe if they don’t figure it out soon, though. 

“I’m not suggesting it was. Just curious.” “So your mind-reading powers don’t extend that far, huh?”

He smirks, a flash in his gaze, teeth nipping at the bit of skin just below the hem of her shirt. His shirt. Whatever, honestly. “That’s still not an answer.” “It’s...Gods, saying it’s a secret is so lame.” “That’s true.” “Babe!” “It is,” Killian mutters, pressing the words into her waist. He noses at her side, smile obvious when his fingers tap at the small of her back. “Bend your knees, love.” “You’re very frustrating at dawn.” “It’s after dawn, Swan.” She grumbles, a few curses that aren’t appropriate for this realm or a princess with a gown to wear later, but Emma’s knees bend anyway, an arm around her waist and a kiss pressed to her shoulder almost immediately. “Ok, it’s not--” Emma continues. “It’s not a bad secret. It’s just...do you want to do this?” “The envoy, ambassador-thing?” “There’s definitely a better name than that.” “That is a mouthful, isn’t it?” Emma nods, slinging her arm around his shoulders so she can get her fingers back in his hair and they will probably be expected to act less...modern during the coronation. They’re not good at that. Or maintaining the proper boundaries of personal space. She’s going to blame the curses. 

And his face. 

Emma has a very a large crush on her pirate boyfriend. 

“Circles,” Emma mumbles. “We don’t have to do it. It’s--well, I know they came up with the plan without talking to us, which is, a dick move really, but Regina was pretty adamant that we could say no and--” “--Is that what you think?” Killian interrupts, and it’s not quite sharp but calm seems to be a very quickly forgotten memory. “That I don’t want to?” “I’m confused.” “That may be the lack of sleep.”

“Oh my God.” Killian makes a face, eyebrows twisting and smirk doing something smirk-like and Emma ducks her head before she really thinks about anything except that crush she’s definitely been nursing for the better part of the last twenty years. “Why the horizon, babe?” she presses, keeping her lips pressed against his jaw. 

“It really is calming.” “So are several other things. Staying in bed. Sleeping. Not sleeping. Rum.” “It’s a little early for rum, Swan.”

“So do the other things. Or talk to me. Especially the last one. Do you want to do it? Because it’s--well, it’s up to you, Killian.” She may have to throw out that list of expression she hasn’t actually made yet. 

Because whatever happens to Killian’s face as soon as those words are out of her mouth make every other expression pointless. Emma tries not to blink under the force of it, her magic curling at the base of her spine, a warmth that spreads through her chest and makes the ends of her hair flicker again. 

And she’s clearly very slow on the uptake in the morning. 

Her hand finds his cheek as soon as she realizes, magic continuing to do several decidedly magical things. Killian’s eyes fall closed again, a soft burst of air between barely parted lips that ghost over the back of her wrist and--

“We should have led with that,” Emma mumbles, the feel of his answering smile on her skin like several different north stars. She’ll ask him about the accuracy of her pirate-type puns later. “I’ve never really given you that, have I? I...I got the commission and then the Darkness and even Neverland and everything that’s happened here and I--” The lump in her throat makes it difficult to keep speaking, misplaced tears clouding her vision. He’s still staring at her.

“I think we can do this,” she continues, voice going low of its own accord and even more emotion, “I know we can. And I--I want to help. That’s--” “--Part and parcel of being the Savior.” “Something like that. I just...I want to do something good. That would help people and prove--” Emma grits her teeth, frustrated by the twist in her gut, a tightness to her lungs that’s uncomfortable. 

There are not enough numbers in the world for all the expressions he keeps making. She’s lost track. And the latest one isn’t the pity Emma expects. It’s closer to disbelief and, possibly, wonder, which doesn’t make any sense because-- “Stop that,” Killian mutters, no anger in the reprimand. “You don’t have anything to prove, Emma. Nothing. Not to a single person in this bloody realm and certainly not me.” “But--” “No, there’s no but. Not this time. Not anymore. That’s--” He shakes his head, a soft laugh and the tip of his thumb finds its way under her chin when her head drops. “C’mon, love look at me. You are...there is so much more to you than being the Savior, Emma. And you’re not good because you’re the Savior. You’re good because you care and you feel and it’s...Gods, love, you are the best person I know. Without the magic.” She’s crying. It was probably inevitable, but it also feels ridiculous and Emma’s starting to get a little light headed. That’s probably because of whatever her magic is doing. 

Roaring. Singing. Several other verbs that magic should not be capable of doing. 

But there’s also True Love involved, several curses and possibilities, a prophecy she’s desperate to continue living up to and the overwhelmingly intoxicating nature of hope. 

It’s addicting. 

It’s wonderful. 

“That’s really nice.”

“Honest, Swan, there’s a difference.” “No, there’s not.” She sighs, tongue darting between her lips because she’d started breathing out of her mouth at some point, and it’s even nicer when he doesn't flinch, her head colliding with his shoulder. Maybe she can ask about the box on the Jolly. “And that’s still not an answer, About the ambassador-thing or the horizon.” “Telling you I’m a sailor and you’ll probably have to get used to me being awake isn’t a good enough excuse?” “I’m not really looking for an excuse.” He kisses her shoulder again. “Aye, I know you’re not. I suppose...well, I’m not actually a mind reader, but I know you’re worried, love. About several things and whatever it is you and Scarlet have been whispering about--” “--It’s not a bad thing.” “I believe you,” Killian promises. “But I will admit…” Emma gasps. Also ridiculous. She’s going to figure how to magic coffee too. That would be the truest act of Savior’ism yet. “Oh, you think there’s something going on, don’t you?” she asks, the few dots of color on Killian’s cheeks an answer. “Babe. That’s...it’s not like that. I’m not having secret rendezvous with Will Scarlet.” “Ok, that’s not what I was saying.” “No?” “No,” Killian echoes, mouthing at the side of her jaw like that’ll prove his point. “I’m perfectly confident in your continued attraction to my face.” “Gods, maybe not after that.” “Tell that to your magic.” Emma clicks her tongue, but she can’t argue and she doesn’t know what he’s wearing later. It will probably be made of leather. She hopes so. “What are you saying then?” she asks. 

“It’s uh---” The color is stronger now, more dots on his skin and the tips of his ears, brows pulled low like he’s trying to take care on every single letter. “Well, it is a bit of jealousy. Mostly that--I know your heart is uneasy, Swan. I’m not sure about what, but I can tell. And I...it’s my job, at least I hope it’s my job, to protect your heart. Even when no one’s demanding you yank it out of your chest.”

Emma’s magic rattles the window in front of them. 

“It’s really unfair when you say stuff like that.” “That wasn’t my goal.” “I know,” Emma says. There are still tears on her cheeks, fingers tracing aimless patterns on the curve of Killian’s shoulder, and it better be leather later. If she doesn’t get to dance with a leather-clad pirate she may actually scream. Or kiss him. Right in the middle of the coronation. That’ll show everyone. “I am really attracted to your face,” she adds. “And, you know, like, everything else.” “I’m glad.” “Yeah, me too. But you don’t have to keep double checking on your job. Protecting hearts or whatever. That’s--” Her lips are dry again. She needs to learn to breathe. That’s very difficult when Killian keeps looking at her like that. “I love you,” Emma says, another admission she hopes sounds better than the last one. “Just--is more than anything another lame thing to say?” “No.” “No?” “No,” Killian repeats, and they’re still going in a circle, even if this one is slightly different and a little more romantic. “It’s not.” “I’m going to say something else.” “That so?” Emma widens her eyes, fully expecting the expression she gets. Her magic flutters. And Killian’s ears may stay red until the coronation. She hopes so. “Yes,” Emma nods. “So, I want you to listen to me, ok?” “I am a rapt audience, your highness.” “You are frustrating.” “Is that what you were going to say?” “Killian!” He chuckles, a quick kiss pressed to the corner of her mouth and she can barely hear his go on love over the ringing in her ears. “I--” Emma starts, scowling because she’s never been good at sweeping. She’s all action and immediate response. She’s not speeches. Or words. That’s him. It’s always been him. And that’s--well, it’s always been Killian. That’s the point. “I think we can do this,” she says. “Whatever name we give it. I think we can help people and the whole goddamn realm and...I want it. I want--horizons and maybe not dawn, but possibly like...late morning and salt and sunshine and everything we ever talked about, but I...I’m not going to tell you that we’re doing it. Not anymore.” “Swan--” She shakes her head deftly, the quick snap of his jaw echoing in the air around them. “A Swan and a Knight.” “I’m not sure Knight has ever been the correct adjective.” “You’ve got to stop that,” she chastises, only a little annoyed at his continued shirtless state because it leaves her with nothing to tug on. She settles for tapping her finger against his jaw. He nips at her. “That too,” Emma grumbles, but Killian grins and catches her wrist with his fingers, pressing his lips to the inside of her palm. “It’s always been that, Killian. Knight protector or whatever the right term is. I could ask Regina if you want.” “You don’t have to do that.” “I would.” “I know you would.” “Good,” she says. “I’m not telling Scarlet super top secret things, by the way. There’s no...Gods, how do you do all these sweeping speeches?” Killian laughs, curling against her until it’s all but impossible to figure out where Emma ends and he starts and that’s also decidedly romantic and only slightly melodramatic. “It’s a talent,” he mutters. “And I know that rationally, love. I just--I’m greedy with you, I suppose. If there’s something going on, I’d rather you--” “--Told you first?” “It sounds insane like that.” “Nah,” Emma objects. “Maybe a little clingy, but we did talk about how stupidly attracted I am to your face, so…” “You genuinely are the most eloquent lass I’ve ever met.” “Yeah, call me lass one more time and see how that works out for you.” He tugs her arm down, hand still there and Emma nearly forgot it was. She supposes that’s a good sign. She’s not sure of what, precisely, maybe successful magic and--whatever else she was thinking flies out of her head as soon Killian’s lips graze the bend of her knuckles. 

She feels his lips turn up. 

“Frustrating,” Emma bites out, but that only makes the smile more pronounced. “And, not to belabor the point, but we still haven’t agreed. David may challenge you to a duel if we don’t.” “I’d like to see him try.” “Awfully confident in our swordsmanship, aren’t we?” “No reason not to be. You were rather distracted before.” “You are deflecting.” Killian shakes his head. “I’m trying to get you to agree with me, love.” “Gods,” Emma groans, but her magic continues to shift and she’s far more awake now, something almost like excitement fluttering under her skin. “Yes, ok? I think the sword thing is a good thing and--” She doesn’t finish. She hadn’t really expected to. 

Killian surges up, mouth insistent against hers with what might actually be longing and that’s just as absurd as any of the pointedly melodramatic things she’s been thinking that morning because she’s not going anywhere and not doing anything without him, but it’s been a lifetime and mistakes and--Emma’s hands dive into his hair, pulling him closer, which she’s only a little worried is actually impossible, but her mind doesn’t care and her magic doesn’t care and one of them probably makes that sound. 

It’s likely both of them. 

She’s moving, not sure if it’s her of her own volition or simply because of the hand directing her, legs splayed on either side of his knees. She rocks down at the same time he shifts up, a burst of friction and need that makes her dizzy. 

“See,” Emma mumbles. “Should have stayed in bed.” “Then we wouldn’t have talked at all.”

One of the candles on the other side of the room flares. Killian’s laugh turns triumphant, the heat in Emma’s cheeks only a little embarrassing when he’s got a hand drifting dangerously high up her side. “I love you too,” he says. “I hadn’t mentioned that before.” “I knew.”

He pulls back, the muscles in his throat moving when he swallows, and Emma regrets that a bit. Mostly because it’s not kissing and she can only be expected to deal with so much meaning in so many looks before, approximately, nine in the morning. 

That’s when the lady’s maids are supposed to show up and crush her ribs. 

Killian stares at her, one side of his mouth pulling up and his fingers ghosting over the side of her still-flushed cheek. “I know you did,” he whispers. “From the very start, aye?” “You came after me.” She breathes out the words -- all emotion and history and far too much magic. The candle is still lit, a burst of color in the flame. And she’s lost complete control of her limbs, neck giving up because her head drops and her fingers can’t seem to stop moving, determined to touch as much of him as she can. 

“Every single time, Swan.” Emma nods again, a flush of emotion that she’s not sure she’s ever experienced before. It’s stronger than anything else, maybe a little stubborn and as greedy as Killian claims to be, a little piratical and decidedly royal, a demand and decree and--”Maybe we don’t have to do that anymore,” she says. “Just...I mean, well, we wouldn’t have to if we were--” “--Together?” “Yeah. Exactly that.” He rivals the light from the candle. And the sun. It’s gotten impossibly sunny in their room. That may also be a sign. And they spend a few more moments kissing, hands and lips that aren’t nearly enough, but then he’s staring at her again and Emma can feel her shoulders heave. 

She’s having a hard time catching her breath. “That’s all I’ve wanted, love.” She may still be crying. It’s...perfect. “So, that’s a--that’s a yes, then? Ambasador-ship and other kingdoms and--”

He can barely get the words out, one letter overlapping the other, and Emma’s never heard that tone before, excitement in every sound that reminds her a bit of Henry and even more like the start, hope and want and she can’t stop nodding. 

“I was asking you, babe.” Killian widens his eyes, but there’s no frustration there. He looks overjoyed. “We’d need a ship,” he says, and Emma’s magic practically leaps straight out of her. And for the first time in the history of anything, Killian doesn’t notice, a continued string of plans and mumbled words and whatever it is his hand has started doing under her shirt. “There’s probably still a few in Misthaven, but I’d have to ask David about the state of them and, actually, I could talk to Merida--DunBroch’s notorious for well-crafted vessels, although they’re usually a little more rugged than what we might be looking for. I’m sure I could persuade her to rethink the design though, enough gold and people are usually willing to--” “--How much gold do you have?” “Enough that we don’t have to touch a coin in the royal treasury.” Emma’s jaw drops, more questions threatening to bubble out of her, but they get caught in her throat when the first knock comes. 

The second knock is louder. 

The third knock is, absolutely, a kick. 

“What, Scarlet?” Killian yells, arm tightening around Emma’s waist. 

The knocking stops. Emma can’t help the snicker she lets out, body shaking against Killian’s chest, but then realization slams into the back of her brain and she also stops making noise. 

“Scarlet?” she calls, trying to temper the want curling in her stomach. It doesn’t work. Mostly because it’s not actually want. It’s more hope and quickly spoken words, the feel of Killian’s palm flat on her skin. “Is that actually you?” “It’s definitely him,” Killian mumbles. “Kicking on doors is his favorite pastime.” “Ok, that is false,” Will argues, what sounds like his whole being slamming into the heavy wood of the door. Killian glances at Emma. “And this doesn’t have anything to do with you, Jones.” Killian keeps glancing at Emma. Which means it’s more like a stare, but her hope is full-fledged now and he missed her magic once. 

It’d be foolish to believe that would happen again. 

They’re far from fools. 

She hopes, at least. 

“Em,” Will continues. “This is--it’s important. I think...I think it’s going to work.”

She clenches her jaw, a sharp inhale because hope floats or so the idiom claims and that’s in the wheelhouse of pirate-type jokes or, at least, water-type jokes and Emma’s yeah sounds far too breathless. 

Will groans. “Yes. I mean--you know, I’m cautiously optimistic.”

“That’s better than normal.” “And that’s rude.” Killian’s eyes are still boring a rather large hole in the side of Emma’s head, curiosity palpable. That’s probably because they’re so close to each other. “What the hell are you talking about?” “Nothing,” Emma says at the same time Will shouts “Good shit, Jones.” 

His mouth twitches again. 

“Don’t,” Emma warns. “This is...it’s not a secret, but it’s--” “--It’s definitely a secret,” Will interrupts. “But if this works, it’s going to be a very fantastic surprise too.” Killian blinks. “What are you doing, Swan?” “Something possibly and hopefully really good.” “That’s a lot of qualifiers.” “Yeah, it is.” He considers that, gaze turning appraising and Emma resists the urge to grab the blanket again. Or ask why Will was also up shortly after dawn conducting magical science experiments. It’d be a silly question anyway. 

She knows he wants to help. 

“Ok,” Killian says eventually, standing and letting his fingers linger in Emma’s space for a moment before reaching to grab a shirt draped over a different chair. “You should put pants on.” Will gags. Loudly. 

“That doesn’t have anything to do with you, Scarlet,” Killian adds. His eyes flit back towards Emma, brushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear and this is going to work. She’s got no idea what Scarlet did. It doesn’t matter. Her magic has never done that. 

The candle is brighter than ever. 

“And you should probably put David out of his misery,” Emma says. “I’m sure he’ll want us to sign something or do something absurdly official.” “Royals. Always so fond of their paperwork.” “Oh, that sounded like an insult.”

“This is the worst thing in the world,” Will moans, those knocks turning pitiful, as if he couldn’t muster the energy for them. 

Killian laughs, tugging on a shirt. “Still not including you! I’ll find David, Swan. You go--” He waves a hand towards the door. “--Work on your surprises. Try not to be late for the gown fitting, huh?” “I’m not going to be late!” “I’m sure you won’t.” “That’s also an insult.” “No, Swan, years of experience. Incidentally, what color is the dress?” “Oh, now you're cheating.” “One word. That’s all.” “I am dying out here,” Will yells, Emma shaking her head because, maybe, she can work more than one surprise in the next few hours. “I’m not going to be late,” she promises. Killian hums, a curl to his lips that leaves Emma with her tongue peeking between her lips and her magic doing something she’s having a hard time controlling. “Seriously. This is going to be great, right Scarlet?” He grunts again. “What? Are you talking to me now?” “Oh my God. There will be no rule breaking. I’ll see you before the coronation, right?” Killian nods slowly, that same infuriating expression etched on his face. “But how will I find you if I don’t know what color dress to look for?” “Go talk to David, Lieutenant.” He bows. And, really, it shouldn’t be as charming as it is, because Emma knows he’s teasing and still a little worried about whatever she very obviously isn’t telling him, but she can’t think about any of that when be ducks his gaze, a flourish of his arm and the tip of his tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth. 

“As you wish, your highness,” he says, fingers finding hers and Emma isn’t entirely sure if he does actually kiss her hand. She hopes. Again. Still. She’s got no idea how to get that candle to go out. “Don’t be late.” “Go!” He waggles his eyebrows, jogging towards the door and a near-prostrate Will on the other side, Emma tugging on pants as quickly as she can. “Well,” Will says with a smile, swinging a small vial of what is very clearly a potion between his fingers. “You ready to save a pirate and get a proposal out of this?” “I will curse you.” “Nuh uh. You guys are gross and you’re going to break a shit ton of royal rules later, I know it.” “You sound like you’re invested.” Will shrugs, “Maybe.” “How much?” “Enough.” “With?” “Both Ruby and Mary Margaret.” “What?” Emma balks, although she can’t really muster too much surprise. 

“Mary Margaret is very curious about the state of the box and why it hasn’t been used yet. Almost as much as you, princess.” “Jeez. You get one concoction, possibly, right and--” “--Oh, it’s definitely right,” Will interrupts, and she didn’t expect that. “I, uh, well, I tested a bunch of stuff, but Belle found a diary last night. Some guy named Cyrus who lived in Wonderland and maybe knew Alice. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that a few drops of it worked on some bushes outside the castle, so...I figure we add your magic and we’ll be good to go with the Jolly.” Emma blinks -- another burst of emotion that her throat is struggling to deal with and that’s a rather disgusting sentence. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this,” she says. “The magic and the experimenting on Arendelle plants under cover of night.” “It sounds way more dramatic like that.” “I’m serious.” “I know you are,” Will smiles. “And I know both you and Jones feel like you’ve got to make sure everyone is happy. The power of prophecy or whatever. But here’s the thing. We are. And it’s--” He lets out a sardonic laugh, a quick shake of his head and even faster smile. “It’s insane. The magic and the rules and I’ve never had so many people worried about what I was going to wear, but it’s incredible too. 

So I know you think we got caught up in this by mistake, but we don’t. It’s what I told you. We’ve got to be here for a reason. And we want to be here. That’s how families work, right?” She hugs him. 

It’s not all that dignified and Will mutters something about be careful of the magic, God , but Emma tightens her arms and hooks her chin over his shoulder. “You are a hell of a lot better than any court jester I’ve ever encountered.” “High praise.” “You want to go enlarge a pirate ship?” Will laughs, a quick squeeze of arms that have found their way around her middle. “I thought you’d never ask.”

She has no idea how long they spend in the cove Kristoff shows them -- a hidden space on the far side of the city that he claims “barely anyone’s heard of,” but Emma knows it’s too long as soon as she stumbles back into her room, late for a dress fitting that leaves her struggling to breathe. 

And she barely gets into the hall before the coronation begins, twisting around faces who stare at her with unabashed awe. Will’s half a step ahead of her, already pushing down an aisle clearly reserved for the Misthaven royal family. 

They all do look rather regal. 

Regina glares at her, dark purples in her gown and a red sheen to her lips. David’s shaking his head, gold brocade that matches the color of Mary Margaret’s gown, his hand on his sword while Will steps over his feet. That makes Belle laugh, her gown more yellow than gold, something about the sun and positivity and the ability research, Ruby on her other side with a smile on her face and fabric so red Emma almost overlooks how on the nose it all is. 

Her eyes flit from one person to the next, a soft buzz in the back of her brain that she knows is partially the lingering effects of a considerable amount of magic and partially the magic that’s racing through her in that moment, the feel of his eyes on her making her blush before she’s even met his gaze. 

“If he stares at her any harder, his jaw is going to fall off,” Ruby whispers, clicking her tongue when someone shushes her. It may be Regina. Huh. 

Killian exhales, tugging at the hair behind his ear. They’re going to cause a whole wave of gossip. She will argue it’s because of the clothes -- the detailing on his jacket and the color of his vest, not quite a perfect match to the blue of Emma’s gown, but near enough that it reminds her of foam on waves and something about a storm ending that also feels too on the nose - but it’s not. It’s everything else. 

A team. 

And the future stretching out in front of them. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Emma mutters, Killian’s scoff sounding half like a laugh when he offers her his hand. She grins, fingers laced with his and the silent hope that she doesn’t trip over herself, a bell ringing somewhere that she dimly remembers is the start of the tradition. 

“You think you’re very funny, don’t you?”

“Do you?” Killian rolls his eyes, not letting go of her hand when she sits down. “You’re interrupting the ceremony, love.” “Will you be quiet?” David hisses. “Emma, you’ve got to sign the accord later.” She stabs a finger into Killian’s thigh, making him grimace. “I told you he was going to make us sign something. I knew it.” “We could have done this days ago, but you two were being all whatever and then you disappeared today and--” The Archbishop of Arendelle -- an ancient title with an even more ancient wardrobe who, the scrolls demanded officiate the coronation -- coughs pointedly, Emma’s lips disappearing behind her teeth and Killian’s snicker is far too loud. Regina’s head falls to her hands. 

Both Ruby and Mary Margaret have their hands over their mouths. 

Elsa smiles at them. 

“If everyone from Misthaven is quite done?” the Archbishop asks, and there’s another laugh from somewhere. It’s absolutely Ariel. 

“Yes, your grace,” Regina says. “We’re uh--we’re good.”

He hums, still a little too opinionated for Emma’s liking and she knows she doesn’t imagine Regina’s mumbled fuck, what a dick a few moments later. Ruby doesn’t move her hand for the entire coronation. 

And the entire coronation doesn’t take that long. 

The Archbishop asks questions -- Do you promise to protect Arendelle? Do you promise to devote yourself to the glory of Arendelle? Do you promise to put the needs of Arendelle above the needs of all else? -- and Elsa nods to every one, voice growing louder with each response because each question gets a little more ridiculous, but there’s something to be said for tradition and eventually the old man steps away. 

So Anna can crown her sister. 

Elsa had made sure of that. A new tradition. 

And Emma doesn’t ever let go of Killian’s hand, his thumb tracing across the back of her skin and leaving her magic thrumming, a feeling she knows they’re both greedy for. 

“Citizens of Arendelle,” Anna says, a speech she’s practiced more times than Emma can count in the last few days, “arise and rejoice for I present to you, for the first time, officially--” Her eyes don’t actually sparkle, but it’s awfully close, Elsa’s shoulders shaking when she tries not to laugh. “--Queen Elsa, the first of her name and the rightful ruler of the kingdom. Long may she reign in peace and prosperity.”

There’s a loud shuffle of feet, chairs scraping and people cheering, but none of them are nearly as joyful as the royal family of Misthaven, because that’s what it is. And what it’s always been. A family. None of whom can possibly be expected to act with decorum. 

They whoop and shout, hands in the air and titles forgotten, bobbing on the balls of their feet and clinging to each other, far too many limbs in one aisle. 

It leaves the rest of the hall stunned, mouths agape and eyes wide. They don’t stop. If anything they get louder, Elsa turning with a scepter in one hand and, if Emma remembers correctly, the scales of justice in the other, flashing them a wide grin. 

Snowflakes begin to fall as soon as she blinks. 

“Long live Queen Elsa,” a voice cries, and it takes Emma a moment to realize who it is. Henry. He’s dressed for a coronation as well, a vest suspiciously like Killian’s and oversized sleeves, standing on a bench next to man with dark hair and his arm around Ariel. 

“Hear hear,” Will yells. “Long live Queen Elsa!” The cry rings out around them, more than the Misthaven contingent until it’s the entire hall and Elsa looks a little stunned. Anna is jumping up and down. 

And there’s more to the day -- meals and meetings, introductions that seem to last forever and Henry telling Emma this was fun before being ushered back to his room because he isn’t all that interested in a ball. There’s another hall and decorations that required several different votes and a whole platoon of help, strands of ivy hanging from the ceiling and leaves dusted in frost, fires roaring in more than one corner, a warmth to it all that leaves Emma calm and confident and--”You look ridiculously good, you know that?” she asks, turning on Killian as soon as announcements are over. 

They had to be announced. The Archbishop would have passed out otherwise. 

Killian arches an eyebrow. “Do I?” “You know you do.” “I was leaning towards it, but it’s nice to have confirmation. And you, love,” he widens his eyes, the spark of something in his gaze working its way directly to Emma’s core, “look stunning.” “Yeah?” He nods slowly, a heaviness that leaves her flushed and warm all over again. “Aye. How quickly do you think we can get out of here before anyone notices we’re missing?” “That’s not going to work, Hook,” Ariel says, appearing out of, seemingly, nowhere with that same man next to her and Emma assumes it’s Eric. She’d like to meet Eric. Maybe after she makes out with Killian. 

“Go away, Fisk.” “Nope, you’ve got royal obligations.” “I am not royal.” “Those are semantics, aren’t they?” Ariel argues, and there are more footsteps coming towards them. “You agreed to the fancy thing.” Killian glances at her, hook heavy where it stays on Emma’s hip. “Fancy thing,” he drawls. 

“You heard me.” “That can’t possibly be what it’s called.” “It’s not,” David calls. He’s got his arm around Mary Margaret again and a small line of royalty behind him. Emma wouldn't be surprised if he also has whatever she needs to sign in his pocket. “And seriously, Killian, don’t act like you don’t know. We talked about this.”

“Did you just?” Emma asks, Killian eyeing her meaningfully as Ruby snickers a few feet away. 

“Em,” she starts, “how late were you to get dressed?” “That’s not important.” “Maybe we should reconsider this position. After all, the captain’s already insulting visiting royalty and you can’t keep a schedule.” “She was busy,” Mary Margaret reasons, gasping as soon as she realizes what she says. Emma rolls her eyes towards the ceiling. “Forget I said that.” “Also,” Killian adds. “Fisk hardly counts as visiting royalty, she’s--” He groans when she kicks him, using, presumably, Eric as leverage, and it can’t be good for Regina to keep mumbling under her breath like that. 

Ariel sneers. “It totally counts.”

“Definitely,” Eric confirms, a hand held out in front of him while his other arm does its best to contain Ariel’s flailing limbs. Emma assumes that’s a mermaid characteristic. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Captain. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Killian takes his hand. “Likewise.” “Aw, that was nice,” Belle mutters, Will pulling her closer to his side. “So, how exactly does that work? Does royal marriage equal full rule or--” “--Oh, now you’ve done it,” Will grins. “She’s never going to stop asking questions.” Killian holds his hand up in mock surrender. “I’m not taking blame for that. That’s obviously Fisk’s fault.” “Seriously, shut up, Hook,” Ariel growls. “And it depends on the kingdom. The rules of marrying into the monarchy. You know.” Belle hums thoughtfully, eyes flitting towards Killian. His eyebrows lift again. “Stop that.” “What?” Belle asks. “I’m naturally curious. Trying to understand this strange, new realm I’m in. That’s all.” “Yeah, sure it is.” “I’ve got no idea what you’re suggesting.” “This is getting almost too obvious isn’t it?” Regina asks, barely moving out of the way when Anna slides towards them. 

“Hi,” she says brightly. “You realize you’re all standing in a weird group together, right? I think you’re scandalizing the Archbishop.” “We’re not really his biggest fans,” David admits. 

“Yeah, us either, that’s why--” “--We come presenting a not-used-to-being-royal distraction,” Kristoff finishes, reaching into his jacket for a flask that’s almost comically large. 

Will’s jaw nearly hits the floor. “Shit, what’s in there?” “If it’s ale, we’re leaving,” Emma warns, only to be brushed off by several less-than-amused hands. Kristoff shakes his head. 

“It’s stronger than that. Brewed in the woods on the far side of the North Mountain.” “Wow, that sounds mythical.” “Magical, even. The only springs back there are on the same land that the rock trolls live.” “We’ve seriously got to see these rock trolls.” “Later, Em,” Will mutters, fluttering his fingers in Kristoff’s face. “C’mon, this is professional curiosity now.” Kristoff eyes him speculatively. “Just don’t--” Whatever he’s about to say gets lost in Will’s gasp, a tilt of his head and swig of rock troll alcohol. 

“Oh fuck,” he growls. “That is God awful.” “I was going to tell you that,” Kristoff says. “It’s, uh...potent.”

Will sticks his tongue out when he gags, drawing more than a few questioning looks and another long glare from the Archbishop. Regina sighs. And pulls the flask out of Will’s hand. “What a dick,” she mumbles, squeezing her eyes shut when she takes a drink. “Emma, sign David’s accord or whatever. Killian, stop insulting the mermaid. Scarlet, don’t gulp this again.” “Any other marching orders, your majesty?” Killian asks. 

“Yeah, drink this.” She thrusts her hand out, nose still scrunched because the alcohol appears to also have a rather potent smell. 

Killian takes the flask. And they all drink -- Elsa arriving nearly twenty minutes later after being cornered by Phillip and Aurora, practically shouting give me that -- until they're delightfully buzzed and wobbly on their feet, the music seemingly getting louder the longer they stand there. 

And Emma’s just about to suggest they go somewhere, or possibly dance until they scandalize an entire hall full of very important people, when she hears another voice and a soft your highness, Guinevere and Lancelot with expectant looks on their faces. “Ma’am,” Lancelot says, holding his hand out. She glances at Killian, not sure what she’s asking, but he smiles and presses a kiss to her temple. “Soon, love,” he mutters, and that sounds like another promise. “Your highness,” he adds, turning Guinevere's direction. “Would you do me the honor?” “It would be a delight, Captain.” They’re gone a moment later, Emma already falling into step with Lancelot, which is messing with her mind a bit, but that may be the alcohol and Killian’s jacket and they need to get out of that hall and-- “I have to admit this dance does come with a request,” Lancelot says, jerking Emma out of her thoughts. She steps on his foot. “Ah, shit. Oh God, no, no, that’s--damn, that’s not very royal at all, is it?”

He chuckles lightly, a smile she’s certain she could trust very easily. “Not particularly. But then again, I’m not sure many of the other royals here have spent their night drinking rock troll swill.” “Swill is a good word for it.” “I thought so. And that’s part of my point. The time for antiquated royalty is behind us, wouldn’t you agree?” Emma nods, not sure she can say much more because she’s definitely more drunk than buzzed and her magic is drifting towards overwhelming. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Lancelot continues, “but as I was saying, this dance comes with a request because, as I’m sure you’ve guessed your highness, good news does travel rather quickly.” Emma furrows her brow. “I’m not sure I understand.” “There’s been some talk of you and Captain Jones embarking on several voyages soon. Trips to other kingdoms, acting as envoys of Misthaven. Guinevere and I would like to humbly request you visit Camelot. Rather quickly, in fact.”

“Camelot? Why?” “Arthur is gone,” Lancelot says. “Left Arendelle a few days ago and he won’t be welcome back in Camelot. That leaves us where we wanted to be, but--” They’ve stopped dancing. This feels oddly cyclical. “There’s still a lot of work to do, repairing the kingdom, making sure those who were loyal to Arthur understand what’s happening, insuring the safety of everyone and, well, it’s a lot to ask, your highness, but we were hoping--” He trails off, Emma’s gaze moving as well. And Killian’s already looking her direction. He nods. 

Whatever her magic does makes her hope she hasn’t started to glow again. 

That would probably send the Archbishop into shock.

“We’d be happy to,” she says, a smile on her face and honesty in her voice and they’ve started dancing again. 

Lancelot lets out a breath, shoulders sagging as soon as the tension between them disappears. “Thank you, your highness, that’s--” “--Would you excuse me?” It’s not particularly regal or even remotely polite, but Lancelot nods anyway and Emma moves, a quick apology muttered to Guinevere as soon as she tugs on the sleeve of Killian’s jacket. “Swan,” he mutters, half question and Emma shakes her head. 

“Come with me.”

She waits until they’re outside the hall, the music quieter in one of those dark corners she’d wanted to find earlier. “Emma, love, what are we--” “--Do you trust me?” “Implicitly.” Emma’s smile actually makes her cheeks ache, fingers curling around the lapels of his jacket to keep her balance when she presses up on her toes. She kisses him. And blinks. 

They land with a thump, flat feet on wooden planks, slightly out of breath because that never really gets easier. Even when the air around them is distinctly salt-tinged. 

“Babe,” Emma mutters, tugging lightly on leather. “You can open your eyes.” Reasonably, she knows he can’t read her mind. He doesn’t have magic anymore, but that never made much of a difference and part of Emma is certain he knows where they are as soon as the wood creaks under them. 

The look on his face helps too. 

Killian’s eyes snap open, lips pressed into a thin, straight line, a muscle in his jaw jumping when he clenches it hard enough to do lasting damage. His gaze sweeps across the deck, never lingering too long one thing before moving on to the next and Emma doesn’t trust herself to say anything. Or breathe. 

It seems to last forever, an inventory that she also knows isn’t that. It’s hope and disbelief, want and a bit of pirate-type greed because home was never really a place for either of them, but it might have been an idea and a feeling and--

“How?” Killian breathes, his grip on her dress going tight. 

“Magic. And Scarlet, actually. He and Belle have been researching stuff to fight magic water because I’d been trying to fight the bottle, but it’s not about the cage, it’s what’s in the cage and--” He’s staring at her, chest moving quickly, and Emma’s teeth find her lower lip. “It was the water in the bottle. Ursula enchanted that and, well, that’s what we’ve been doing. Me and Will, I mean. It wasn’t a secret, I just--” She shrugs. “Surprise.” He exhales heavily, body sagging with the force of it. “Surprise,” Killian echoes, hand cupping her cheek with a delicacy that makes her lungs do something impossible again. “Swan, are you--this is the Jolly?” “Can’t you tell?” “Aye, I can, I--Gods, I love you.”

He barely gets the words out before he’s kissing her, lips turning hungry in a way that’s nothing but positive and decidedly romantic. Her arms fly up, fingers in his hair and elbows resting on his shoulders. Emma’s mouth opens at the first brush of his tongue and she’s not sure if that’s what makes everything tip, but the word tip is probably inappropriate on a ship and she can feel Killian’s smile as soon as her breath catches, pushing her back with the jut of his hips until she collides with what may actually be the main sail. 

“A menace,” Emma mumbles, a pitiful insult when she sighs it out. Killian hums, catching her mouth again before she can say anything else and she can’t move her hands fast enough. 

One cups the back of his head, trying to keep him exactly where he is, while the other moves down the front of his jacket, pushing on leather and the fabric of his vest, drifting back up to the scruff on his jaw and his hair. 

She’s not sure what sound he makes when she scratches lightly at his skin, nails turning sharp when they find his neck, but any semblance of intelligent thought disappears as soon as Killian’s head drops. His teeth graze the side of her neck, likely leaving marks in his wake and Emma can’t think about that either. 

It feels too goddamn good. 

Her head falls back, another thump that barely registers when her magic feels like it’s exploding out of her. She feels Killian’s laugh before she hears it, forcing herself to open her eyes because--”Oh, shit,” she mumbles. “That’s not a bad thing, love.” “Yeah, but you’re never going to shut up about it.” She’s brighter than usual, a gleam in between each strand of hair and the space between her fingers. It curls around Killian’s shoulder, twists around his waist and the sword belt strapped there. “Oh, that’s true,” he admits, still nosing at her collarbone. “I’ll probably remind you at regular intervals for the foreseeable future.” “If you can still think of words like that, then we’ve got bigger problems than me glowing.” “You having a hard time coming up with words, love?” “Kiss me, Gods.”

He chuckles again, lets his lips linger on her skin for a moment, mouthing at her pulse until there’s absolutely a mark there and Emma’s magic jumps, impatience and want in equal measure. “Royal,” Killian murmurs. “And longer than just foreseeable.” “That so?” “Indefinitely. Forever? The rest of our lives and possibly beyond that?” “Now you’re getting spiritual on me.” “We do know several gods.” “This is not the kissing I requested.” “Demanded,” Killian amends, and Emma’s eyes close when his fingers brush over her shoulder, pulling the sleeve of her dress down. They’re a knot of limbs after that, moving fabric and ridding themselves of ostentatious leather jackets, hands and fingers drifting lower, lower, lower, impossibly slow and far too quickly, a contradiction that Emma’s more than willing to live for the rest of their lives.

If not longer. 

Until. She gets impatient. And greedy. 

Pirate. 

Emma’s fingers find his wrist, dragging his hand further down into a mess of fabric. She hitches her leg up, her palms flat on his back and she has no idea who is breathing harder. Her eyes find Killian’s, barely any blue left and, for the first time, that’s not terrifying. It’s exactly what she’s hoping for, a heat in his gaze that makes her feel like they’re on even footing even when they’re not moving. 

Until. Again. 

His hand shifts, a mumbled curse and she’s grateful for whatever it is she’s leaning on, arching her back against it. “Gods, like that,” she whispers, Killian’s head dropping to her shoulder and everything turns desperate rather quickly. 

Emma rocks up at the same time his fingers twist, a burst in the very center of her that’s as emotional as it is magical and the two have always gone together anyway. Her hands drift again, over his neck and across his back, marking every inch of him until she’s certain she’s branded herself there, while Killian mutters encouragements and promises in her ear, alternating between heady and honest, a line that makes all the others shift irrevocably. 

And Emma doesn’t know how long it lasts. It feels like forever and not nearly enough, stars exploding behind her eyes and magic roaring through her veins, a gasp of air and pulse that’s been at the center of everything. 

Since the very start. 

They do move, eventually, stumbling down the ladder to the captain’s quarters with smiles on their faces and roaming hands, Killian’s jacket forgotten on deck. And the cabin isn’t quite what she remembers from the last time she was there, little things that prove there was someone else there after Killian, enough that he tenses at the sight. 

She kisses him that time. 

It’s not an explicit distraction, but the tension disappears and her feet aren’t on the ground, moving backwards towards a cot that’s still small and still comfortable and as close to perfect as anything’s ever been. 

Especially with less clothing. 

It’s hours later, moonlight instead of sunlight streaming across a different floor, Killian’s voice soft in her ear while his fingers trace across her side. Emma can feel the tug of sleep, only a little worried about what will happen because they’ve disappeared from another event when--

“What was that?” Killian asks sharply, a noise on deck that doesn’t sound like a thud or anything particularly threatening, but does sound and this is supposed to be a secret cove no one knows about. 

“Is I don’t care an answer?” “Technically, yes, but--” The sound comes again, obvious footsteps and Killian’s moving immediately, pants on and no boots and his sword in his hand. Emma waves her hand, clothes back on. “Why didn’t you do that for me?” he asks, eyes snapping up when the footsteps move again. 

“You were already moving. That’s--” “Savior! Captain!” Killian drops his sword. “Fucking hell.” That about sums it up because Emma can’t wrap her mind around that voice appearing in this moment, still a little muddled from kisses and the mark she can just make out on the side of Killian’s neck. The seeress calls their name again, not quite as commanding that time, like she realizes she’s interrupting. 

“C’mon, love,” Killian mutters, holding his hand out and she still looks exactly the same when they step back on deck. Her head is bowed, hands covering her eyes, but there’s something slightly different, as if a weight has been lifted and, seriously, Emma needs to find some coffee at some point. 

Or keep kissing her boyfriend. 

That title seems silly after longer than forever though. 

“Savior,” the seeress says. “Thank you.” Emma waits. For the rest of it, nerves clawing at the back of her brain. There isn't anything. No words. No brand-new prophecy. Just the goddamn seeress staring at her. 

Kind of. 

“Wait, what?” Emma asks. “I don’t--” “--Thank you,” the seeress repeats. “The prophecy is safe. And it will continue to be. With both of you here together.” “Is that a joke?” The seeress doesn’t blink, but her head shakes quickly, a normalcy to it that Emma doesn’t entirely appreciate. “No, Savior. You and the Captain are back on the correct path. Mistakes have been fixed and the future of this realm is preserved. In other words--” “--Seriously, is this a--”

“True Love should be applauded,” the seeress continues, unperturbed by Emma’s frustration. Killian’s fingers find hers again. “So I have come to thank you. And to bear a gift.” “A gift,” Killian says. “From?” “A friend.” The seeress twists her wrist, the sword landing at their feet. Emma gasps. She hates that. But she can’t help it because she knows, as soon as the moonlight reflects off the hilt, the familiar curve of it and Killian’s hand doesn’t leave hers when he crouches down. 

“This is…” he starts, the seeress nodding. She might be smiling. It’s not as off-putting as Emma would have expected. 

“It is. She’s rather glad you’re happy, Captain. Said you deserved it. You both do.” “Who?” “You know the answer to that.”

Killian nods, standing slowly and Emma doesn’t think before she curls against his side. “Persephone sent that?” she asks. “For Killian?” “For both of you. You’ve saved everything, Emma. As you were destined to. And now, the two of you will continue to do just that. Together. As the prophecy foretold.” “Right.” “Thank you.” Emma hums, Killian’s hand curling around her waist. He’s smiling when he kisses the top of her hair, not quite a dismissal, because they can’t do that to the seeress and it’s not entirely her fault, but they were in bed and--the seeress smiles wider. “I hope to see you again soon,” she says. “I look forward to meeting your family.”

She’s gone before either one of them can open their mouths, leaving the sword on the deck and Emma’s heart pounding against her chest. And then. Killian laughs. He throws his head back, body shaking and the sound makes Emma’s mouth twist into a smile, joy mixing with magic and a bit of still-potent alcohol, spinning her back towards him so she can push up on her toes. 

“Not exactly subtle was she?”

“Not really. That’s...well, since the start, right?” “Oh aye. But I wouldn’t be opposed to a few days alone with you before we start.” “Pirate.” “And yours.” Her magic leaps. And that, that, is exactly the same. Like it’s always been. Even on different water with different memories. “Good,” she whispers, curling her finger around the loop of his belt. “C’mon. You’re wearing too many clothes again.” He’s still laughing when they fall back onto the cot, but that changes rather quickly, a victory Emma will likely talk about every day for the rest of forever. 

And they don’t leave the ship for three days, a message via bird, before the return to royalty and Killian’s fingers reach for her when they stand in front of the helm, a course set for Camelot. 

“Ready?” she asks, a silly question. She knows the answer. 

“Every single time, Swan,” Killian says, and it’s a different promise. It’s not a guarantee that he’ll come back, it’s better, a certainty that whatever comes next, wherever they go, they’ll do it together.

[wistfulcynic]

Their Way By Moonlight: Storybrooke (Chapter 13)

SO it is been a LONG time since I last updated this story! I never intended for it to take so long but Stuff Happened and I really struggled to get back into the right mindset for it. BUT! Now it’s back and the mojo is restored and I am going to do my best to finish the whole thing before the summer. Should be another two or three chapters after this one. 

COPIOUS amounts of love to all the people who have been so encouraging and patient over the past seven (eek!) months. @thisonesatellite​, OF COURSE, who is my absolute rock and without whom I would just be tumbling through the abyss, but also @katie-dub​, @ohmightydevviepuu​, @mariakov81​, @stahlop​, @kmomof4​, @teamhook​ and @snowbellewells​ with her recs and her wonderful, wonderful comments. THANK YOU, and I love you all. 

SUMMARY: A new curse has fallen on Storybrooke and this time Emma is trapped inside it, deliberately separated from Henry and anyone else who might  help her break it. But what no one knows –including her own cursed self– is that she and Killian have the ability to share their dreams, and are working together in secret to find a way to break the curse and free everyone from a new and dangerous foe.

Rating: M

 AO3

-

Storybrooke:

The meeting room at the town hall was empty when Killian arrived, and his footsteps on the old wooden floorboards echoed through the stillness of the morning. His early arrival was fully intentional; he had a reputation to maintain as a respectable citizen and small business owner, after all, and more importantly he wanted to get a good seat to observe the town’s residents as they came in.  He situated himself in one of the assembled chairs, in a corner near the back where he could see more than he was seen, and sipped his coffee while making his best attempt to look unremarkable. 

Good luck with that. He could practically hear Emma’s sarcastic retort. 

Emma would be here soon, and though it couldn’t be more than half an hour since he’d kissed her goodbye he felt a flutter of anticipation at the thought. After everything they’d been through even short separations were nerve-wracking, and it was taking all his effort not to simply wrap himself around her and hold tight, snarling away anyone who tried to make him let go. Normally Emma would laugh and tell him to get a grip but ever since her memories returned she had been clinging to his hand or arm or hovering in his space whenever they were in a room together, clearly as reluctant as he to relinquish physical contact between them. Such vulnerability from her made Killian’s protective instincts go into overdrive, so much that he almost wished she would shove him away and tell him sharply that she needed her space so he could try to feel normal again.

He suspected that normality might be a long time coming.  

Soon Storybrooke’s residents began to arrive, first in a trickle and then a flood, greeting each other and taking their seats, exchanging news and speculation about the reason for this meeting they had all been instructed by the mayor’s office to attend. He observed a few familiar faces: Granny, still wearing her grease-stained apron and Ruby snapping her gum, Mr Clarke from the pharmacy, Mr Wood from the bank. Belle, sitting by herself and staring blankly at the wall. The cricket, nearly unrecognisable in the clothes of a labourer, and the scowling dwarf wearing an actual suit. Killian thought he also recognised the odd face or two from the crowd that had landed back in the Enchanted Forest with him after Pan’s curse struck, but he could produce no names to go with them. He’d been so full of pain then, aching despair at the prospect of never seeing Emma again, that all he’d been able to think of was getting back to his ship and trying to reclaim his pirate’s life. 

Mary Margaret arrived, nodding and smiling faintly as she walked up the aisle to take her place behind the long table at the front of the room and fiddle nervously with a stack of papers that lay upon it. A minute later Emma appeared. She didn’t look for him in the crowd but he knew she could sense he was there by the slight softening in her stern expression and the way her fingers fiddled with the lid of her coffee cup as she walked past him. Killian ground his teeth as his own fingers flexed on his cup. He hated that they were still apart even just in this small way, hated that they had all agreed the night before that it would be unwise for the supposedly married town sheriff to start making ‘disgusting doey-eyed looks’—Regina’s words—at the newly established bookseller. He hated the logic and the sense behind that decision even as he bitterly resented yet another obstacle standing between him and his wife. 

At least she had her memories back, he attempted to console himself. And enough of her magic reserves replenished to put a sound-proofing spell around their bed the night before. A sound-proofing spell that was particularly necessary since she had also convinced Regina to spend the night on the sofa in his apartment rather than stay at the sheriff’s station again. 

He shifted in his seat and pushed away the memories of how they’d taken full advantage of that spell, refocusing his attention instead on the crowd. Henry was back at school that morning, despite his vehement protests and whining insistence that he should be allowed to go to the town meeting too, but Killian had promised the lad to remember every detail and fill him in on all that happened and most particularly who was currently present in Storybrooke and what their circumstances appeared to be. 

“If I’m going to help them find love again then I have to know what love is missing in their lives,” Henry had explained to his stepfather and both mothers over dinner the night before. “It might not necessarily be love love, like what Mom and Dad have.”

“Romantic love,” supplied Killian. 

“Yeah. Cuz remember Mom broke the first curse with True Love’s Kiss on me.” 

“So it might be parental love,” said Emma. 

“Yep. Or just like best friends love. What’s it called, Dad?”

“Platonic,” replied Killian.

 “Uh huh. Or even, like, love of a pet or a hobby or something. Not True Love, capital letters, just any love.” 

“And are you sure that’s all that’s needed to break the curse?” asked Regina. “Just love?”

“We’re not sure of anything,” said Killian. “But the lad’s theories are sound, and Zelena herself confirmed that there is no love currently present in Storybrooke.” 

“Do we think Zelena knew how the first curse worked?” wondered Emma. “How Rumplestiltskin wanted it broken so he could go and find Neal, and that’s why he put my parents’ True Love on the scroll?”

“Almost certainly, I think,” said Regina. “She intended to torture me indefinitely and she’s too clever to cast a curse without knowing exactly how it would work. She may be insane, but she’s not stupid.” 

Henry frowned and toyed with the lasagna on his plate. “Um, Moms,” he said. 

“Yes,” replied Regina and Emma as one. 

“Speaking of my dad… Neal, I mean… do you know where he is?’ He looked up, eyes huge in his small face. “He is here… right?” 

Emma and Regina exchanged a glance. 

“Sorry, kid, but I don’t remember ever seeing him,” said Emma. “I don’t even know—since he wasn’t here during the first curse I don’t really have any idea of what his role would be in Storybrooke.” 

“And I haven’t interacted with anyone except Snow and Charming,” said Regina. “And…” she frowned as she thought, “also Belle. She works at the market, on the register. I used to see her every day.” 

“Okay,” said Henry, still frowning at his plate. 

“Don’t worry, Henry, we’ll find him.” Emma reached out and squeezed her son’s hand. “We always find each other, remember?” 

Henry gave a small smile and nodded. 

Remembering the sadness in Henry’s eyes, Killian scanned the crowd once again for any sign of Neal as Emma took her place next to her mother at the table and Mary Margaret called the meeting to order. 

“H-hello,” she said. “I-if I could have your attention.” 

Silence fell in the hall and all eyes turned to her. She gulped visibly and panic filled her eyes as they darted around the room, observing all the solemn faces focused on her. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence then Mary Margaret released a breath and smiled. 

“I’d like to call this Storybrooke town meeting to order,” she said in a much stronger voice, her eyes fixed on someone in the crowd. Killian followed her gaze to where David was sitting, looking much more like his old self in a blue flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, smiling encouragingly at her. 

Well, thought Killian. That’s promising. 

“The first order of business is to announce that Mayor Green has resigned her position and I will be the Acting Mayor until an election can be held,” continued Mary Margaret. “Anyone wishing to run can get the paperwork from the Town Records Manager.” She nodded towards the end of the table where a youngish man with prominent ears and large glasses nodded in acknowledgment. Killian frowned. He didn’t recognise the man. Which wasn’t in itself remarkable as there were many people in Storybrooke he didn’t recognise, but this particular individual had the same air of a wild creature caught in a small cage that Killian had remarked on in his interactions with Mr Wood the banker. Who was himself an unfamiliar face. 

“I’ll now open up the floor to questions,” said Mary Margaret.  

“Why did Mayor Green resign?” piped up a gruff voice from the back of the room, and Killian could see Emma in the corner of his eye trying not to roll her eyes. 

Mary Margaret drew a deep breath. “That’s a good question, Leroy,” she said. “And I’m sorry to have to tell you all this but former Mayor Green has come under suspicion of fraud and misappropriation of town resources.” 

“What town resources?” 

“I’m, er, afraid I can’t be any more specific while the investigation is pending,” said Mary Margaret, looking pleased with herself. 

“But she didn’t resign then,” continued the voice, which Killian had now determined was that of the irritable dwarf who seemed always to be shouting. “She was forced out.” 

Mary Margaret’s pleased expression faded and Killian suspected that she also was trying not to roll her eyes. Like daughter like mother, it seemed. “It amounts to the same thing,” she said. “She’s no longer the mayor.” 

“But I think we have a right to know what—” 

“Leroy, please!” Mary Margaret waved her hands in an exasperated gesture that knocked her coffee cup off the table and sent it flying, crashing to the ground and splashing coffee all over the floor and on the shoes of the people in the front row. “Oh!” she cried. “Oh, no! Can anyone… does anyone have a mop? Or a—a tissue, or something?” 

The crowd began to shift as people patted pockets and looked in purses and then there was the sound of a door opening and movement from the far corner of the room. A janitor emerged, dressed in grey coveralls with a baseball cap pulled low over his face, lugging a pail and mop along behind him. 

“Ah,” said Mary Margaret. “Thank you, Neal.” 

Killian stiffened and he could see Emma do the same. The man gave Mary Margaret a small nod and took out his mop, and when he turned to wipe up the coffee on the floor Killian got a clear glimpse of his face under his cap. 

Well, lad, he thought, we’ve found your father. 

~

A triumphant sneer curled Regina’s lip as she sauntered into the sheriff’s station, at the sight of Zelena curled up on the hard cot in her cell, asleep. After a year of suffering at this woman’s hands, seeing her there pleased Regina even more than when she’d had Snow in much the same circumstances, locked away and at her mercy. The room still seethed with magic, dark and untethered and increasingly wild with no one to contain and control it, woven through with the faint glow of the light magic left by Emma. Careless, thought Regina with a sniff. Emma left traces of her magic behind everywhere she went. It all but oozed from her, more natural magic than Regina had ever seen attached to any one person before. 

At least she’s finally learned how to use it, she thought as she drew on the light magic, careful to temper it with some of the dark—though she couldn’t help noticing that touching the light hurt far less than it once had, and thinking that Henry would be proud to hear that—and wove it into an invisible but very sharp point. Which she then used to poke Zelena through the bars of the cell. Right in her backside.

Zelena shifted on the cot but didn’t awaken, and Regina with a gleeful grin took the opportunity to poke her harder. 

“Oi!” cried Zelena, waving her hand at the unseen irritant. “What is it—oh. Regina.” 

A cutting retort died on Regina’s lips at the look on her sister’s face. Her sister. That was still hard to grasp. Zelena looked… tired. Worn. Defeated. Which was good, obviously, but still it tugged at something unfamiliar and uncomfortable in Regina’s chest. 

“Well?” said Zelena wearily. “What are you here for? To taunt me, I suppose.” 

Regina had absolutely intended a taunt or two but she wasn’t about to admit that, not once Zelena had guessed it. “I wanted to talk about your curse.” 

“Ah, yes,” a small, nasty smile curved Zelena’s lips. “My curse. The curse you can’t break.” 

“We’ll see about that.” Regina couldn’t help needling her, despite the solemn promise Hook—Killian, damn it—had extorted from her the night before, not to let Zelena goad her into revealing too much. 

“Yes, I imagine we will.” Zelena’s smug and haughty demeanour appeared to be back in full force, her brief moment of vulnerability passed. 

Regina ground her teeth. “It shouldn’t be too hard,” she said. “It’s not much of a curse.” Zelena sputtered indignantly and Regina twisted the knife. “Barely in place a year and already weakening,” she taunted. “Though to be honest, I’m not surprised. It never was quite right, was it?” 

“Not quite right?” 

“No. There’s always been something off about it. Everyone’s noticed. Henry, Hook. Emma, now that she has her memories back. It’s distorted somehow, like… like a painting done by someone who’d only ever seen things through a mirror.” 

Zelena’s eyebrows twitched, just the smallest hint of movement but Regina did not miss it. 

“Through a mirror… that’s it, isn’t it? You used mirror magic to what… reflect the curse back into this world?” 

It was a stab in the dark but she could tell it landed firmly on its target by the anger that flashed in Zelena’s eyes, and the hint of fear. She laughed, a loud, triumphant laugh. “Which would mean that it isn’t even your curse! It’s Pan’s, modified by me then simply twisted and re-formed by you. Third-hand magic. Oh, that is delicious.” 

“It hardly matters,” Zelena hissed. “You still can’t break it,”

“As I said before,” sneered Regina. “We’ll see about that. Thanks for the information, sis. You’ve been very helpful.” 

~

When the town meeting ended Killian waited until most of the others had left before making his way out of the room. He was walking down the nearly empty corridor to the main doors when a hand grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him into a small office. 

“What the devil—” Before he could finish his sentence white smoke whirled around him and he found himself back in his apartment with Emma in his arms. He frowned. “Swa—” he began but she cut him off again, this time with a hard, intense kiss. 

Her body was rigid with tension as he ran his prosthetic hand down her back and curled his fingers into her hair. He gentled the kiss to try to ease whatever was troubling her, moving his lips soothingly over hers until the tension drained away and she relaxed against him, pressing her forehead to his as the kiss ended with softly clinging lips and they sighed into each other. 

“I’m not complaining, but what’s this about, love?” he murmured. 

“I just missed you.” 

“I missed you too, but—” 

“And I was worried.” She reached up to stroke his cheek, running her thumb along the thin scar that crossed it. “About how you’d feel. Seeing Neal, I mean. The last time we were all together, he was, well—” 

“Vying against me for your heart, aye, I remember.” 

“Are you gonna be okay with him being here?” she pressed. “With him being in Henry’s life once the curse breaks?” 

“Of course I’m okay with that. He’s Henry’s father.” 

“Yeah, but you’re his dad.” 

Killian cleared his throat over the lump that formed in it. “Indeed I am, and nothing can take that away, Emma. I love Henry and he loves me. But there’s more than enough room in his heart for a father and a dad. He has two mums already, after all.” 

Emma gave him a searching look. “So you’re really okay?” 

Killian took his time answering. It wasn’t an easy question, and though he’d known he would have to face it eventually he had tried not to think on it overmuch until seeing Neal that morning had brought the issue into sharp focus. 

“My relationship with Baelfire has never been simple,” he replied finally. “He’s the child of my first great love and also of my greatest enemy, father of the boy I call my son and the first man to hold my wife’s heart. It’s not going to be easy after the curse breaks and he learns what’s transpired between us, and between myself and Henry. But despite everything, even despite his unconscionable conduct in leaving you alone in jail, I still care for him and I want to try to find a place for him in our lives. If that’s what you wish.” 

Emma nodded. “It is. I know it won’t be easy, but I don’t want to keep him away from Henry. If he wants to be in his life, and in ours, I think we should try.” She smiled at him. “I love you.” 

He smirked. “I know.” 

Her mouth dropped open. “You finally watched Star Wars!” she exclaimed.

“Aye, Henry insisted.” 

“And? What did you think?” 

“Preposterous, from start to finish. However, I did enjoy the space pirate and his ship.” 

“Space pirate,” scoffed Emma. “You would.” 

He laughed and hugged her closer. “I love you too, Emma.” 

“I know.” 

They kissed again, soft and lovingly this time, and Killian let himself sink into it. He really needed to get downstairs and open the shop and Emma was already late for her patrol, but she was also soft and warm in his arms and he thought perhaps they might be able to spare the time for just a brief dalliance…

The door to the apartment opened and someone made a disgusted noise. “Can’t you two keep your hands off each other for five minutes?” said Regina’s voice. They turned to see her standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. “I need to speak with the sheriff, alone if you don’t mind.” 

“Aye.” Killian cleared his throat and gave Emma one more kiss, lingering as long as he dared. “I should get to the shop anyway,” he told her. “Come and say goodbye before you leave.” 

“I will.” 

Emma kept her eyes on her husband until the door closed behind him, laughing at the cheeky grin and raised eyebrow he gave her as he shut it. She turned to Regina. 

“So what’s up?” she asked. 

“We need to talk about what to do with Zelena.” 

Emma sighed. They definitely did need to talk about that, and also she really didn’t want to. 

“I’m guessing you have some suggestions.” 

“We need to get rid of her.” 

“By ‘get rid of’ I assume you mean ‘kill’.” 

Regina shrugged. “Dispose of her.” 

“Meaning kill her.” 

“Well, if you insist on putting it in such blunt terms, yes,” Regina huffed in annoyance. “It’s too dangerous not to. We know what she’s capable of.” 

Emma crossed her arms over her chest. “We can’t kill her.” 

Regina glared at her. “Why did I know you would express that opinion, Miss Swan?” 

“It’s Mrs Jones, and I don’t know, maybe because you know that I’m not going to condone murder?” 

“Oh yes, of course, how could I forget, heroes don’t kill,” Regina sneered. “And also, really? You’re taking the pirate’s name?” 

“Oh, I have no problem with killing in justifiable circumstances,” snapped Emma. “But you can’t just up and take out someone who isn’t threatening you and hasn’t been convicted of a capital crime. And yes, why the hell wouldn’t I take my husband’s name?” 

“So you want to let the woman who cursed this town just walk free? And honestly I figured you for more of a feminist.” 

“Um, in case you forgot you’re also the woman who cursed this town so are you really going to argue that cursing towns deserves the death penalty? And I don’t see how sharing a last name with my husband and my son is un-feminist. We’re a family.” 

“Regardless of who cursed what, we’re going to have to do something with Zelena. And are you seriously telling me that you changed Henry’s name to Jones?” 

“Zelena can stay in her cell until we come up with a better idea than ‘hey let’s kill her!’ And yes, Henry’s name is Jones now, it’s on all his documents. If you want to change it back you’d better first ask him and second figure out how you’re going to undo all my magical forgery.” Emma knew the smirk on her face was a bit smug, but she couldn’t help it. She was proud of that forgery.

Regina ground her teeth. “If I had my magic—” 

“Well, you don’t, so why don’t you use that angry energy to think of a non-lethal way to take care of Zelena. What did you use to do in the Enchanted Forest?” 

“In the Enchanted Forest we executed people when they got in the way!” 

“You mean you executed them when they got in your way!” 

“Yes!” 

“Well that explains a hell of a lot!” 

Regina threw up her hands. “We’re wasting time here,” she snapped. “We need a strategy and we need it soon, before Zelena figures out how to use her magic again.” 

Emma frowned. “Can she do that? If her amulet’s broken?” 

“She might be able to.” The anger faded from Regina’s eyes and posture, replaced by worry. “She’s very powerful and with a lot of—” her lip curled “—natural ability. The only person I’ve ever seen with the same raw skill is you, which is why you need to be the one to deal with her.” 

“But I can’t—” 

“Yes you can, and more than that you have to.” She sighed, and the look in her eye turned pleading. “There’s no one else.” 

Emma bit her lip. She had an idea, just a little glimmer of a thought tickling the corner of her mind. It might be crazy—it was almost certainly crazy—but it also might work. Before she could do anything, though, she needed to do some research. 

“Okay, look, we can’t do anything today,” she said, holding up her hand to silence Regina’s protest. “For now, Zelena’s not a threat and I don’t want to rush into anything until we know exactly what we’re doing.” Killian was right, Emma thought. Strategy first. This time she wasn’t going to jump into anything until she was fully prepared. “I’m gonna go grab some books from downstairs and do my patrol,” she continued, “then I need an hour or so at the station. Can you meet me at the loft at about one thirty?” 

Regina nodded. “That should be fine. I actually want to have a look in some of the pirate’s books myself.” 

“Really? What do you need to read about?” 

“Mirror magic.”  

~

Regina left the bookshop with a bag full of very intriguing books—she made a mental note to find a way to pry out of Killian precisely where and from whom he’d obtained them—and headed down the street towards Granny’s. So engrossed was she in her thoughts and plans and theories about how Zelena had cast the curse that she didn’t see John Wood until she’d walked right into him, knocking the takeout bag from his hand and sending it flying into the bushes.  

“Oh!” she cried. “I’m so sorry! It was an accident this time!” 

“This time?” he echoed with a quizzical smile. 

“Oh.” Damn it. “I mean, the last time too. I’m just sorry I keep running into you. Or not—not sorry to be running into you just… running into you.” 

She’d never felt more flustered or less regal and she could feel her cheeks burning, but then he laughed and gods she’d missed the sound of that laugh. It was warm and… merry, for lack of a better word, and it made her heart pound and the flush on her skin grow hotter. They were still standing close together and as she drew in a deep breath she felt a small pang of regret. He smelled wonderful, but it was all wrong. Laundry soap and cologne and not a trace of pine. She never imagined she’d miss the scent of the forest clinging to his skin, but in that moment she’d have given anything to smell it again and to have those eyes look at her the way they once had, all too briefly and too long ago. 

Do not think about his eyes. Or his skin.

But they drew her, those eyes and their twinkle, and while there was still no real recognition in them they seemed… clearer than they had yesterday. Like something had been lifted. Like they belonged to a more carefree man. 

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” she blurted, and the heat in her cheeks became an inferno. She managed to keep her face straight but cringed internally, bracing for refusal, preparing a withering put-down for when it came.

“Oh,” he said, blinking in surprise. “Ah. Um. Yes. I would. I mean, just in a, er, a friendly way or as as a—” 

“As a date,” said Regina, emboldened by how obviously and—yes, damn it—sweetly flustered he was. “Tonight?” 

“Ah.” A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Um, yes. Tonight is fine. Wh—where?”

“Meet me in front of Granny’s. About seven?”

He grinned, wide and warm, and she felt like she could soar. “I’ll see you then.”

~

Emma was already at the loft when Regina arrived, crouched in the corner near where Henry had grappled with Zelena two days before. When she heard Regina arrive she stood to greet her. “Hey,” she said. “I’ve been here like ten minutes. What kept you?” 

“I ran into someone.” Regina’s cheeks were bright pink and she wouldn’t meet Emma’s eye. Emma stared. 

“You’re blushing!” she exclaimed. 

“No, I’m not.” 

“You are! Who did you run into?” 

“No one.” 

“Oh, come on, Regina!” 

“Fine, it was John Wood. From the bank.” 

“John Wood?” 

“Yes. We’re having dinner tonight.”

“You’re having dinner. With John Wood, the banker.” Emma doubted she could be more astonished if Regina had announced her intention to dine with Zelena in her cell. 

“Yes.” Regina was standing stiffly, wearing her best haughty queen expression. “Now if you’ve satisfied your curiosity Mrs Jones, can we get back to the matter at hand?” 

Emma narrowed her eyes. John Wood hadn’t been in Storybrooke during the first curse, yet it was obvious that Regina knew him. She wouldn’t go on a date with a random cursed banker, not unless she knew who he was un-cursed. The new faces around Storybrooke were a mystery Emma fully intended to get to the bottom of but she also knew that with Regina she needed to choose her battles. Now was not the time to fight this one.  

“Sure,” she replied with a shrug. “First I just need to have a look at this.” She crouched down again and indicated the knife that was still lying on the floor, the one Zelena had used to threaten Henry and Henry had used to do something Emma still wasn’t quite sure she understood. He seemed to have actually cut into her magic with it, slashed a hole clean through her spell and then jumped through it to get to Zelena. There was no way that should have been possible but it happened, and Henry’s actions may have saved them all. She just needed to figure out how. 

 She had a few theories already, fleshed out by the research she’d done this morning, and now as she peered down at the knife on the floor, appearing as innocuous as any deadly weapon could look, she reached out carefully and prodded it with her magic. There was no dark magic in it that she could detect—no magic at all, in fact. It really was just a knife. Just an impossibly sharp knife with a short blade, double-edged, each edge made of a different metal. One side gleamed bright like polished steel and the other she’d never seen the like of before, shadow-grey but with a sort of dull glow that gave her the creeps. 

Gingerly she picked it up by its wooden handle and held it out to Regina. “Have you ever seen this before?” she asked. “Or anything like it?” 

Regina frowned. “No. But something about it it feels wrong.” 

“Wrong how?”

“I don’t know. It has no magic, but it just—it doesn’t seem to fit in this world somehow. And I don’t just mean in this realm.” 

“I know what you mean,” said Emma. And it was what she’d been hoping to hear. 

“What are you going to do with it?” Regina asked. 

“For the time being, keep it somewhere safe.” 

Just… be careful.” 

“Always am,” muttered Emma. She pulled an evidence bag from her pocket and carefully placed the knife inside, weaving a quick reinforcing spell into the plastic and tucking it into Killian’s satchel, which she had brought along for that precise purpose. 

“So,” she said, laying the satchel aside. “Let’s get started. What do you have in mind for this place? Not back to the way it was, I’m guessing.” 

“To your mother’s cutesy boho-chic?” scoffed Regina. “I don’t think so. Make it someplace I can live in.” 

“And Henry?” 

Regina nodded. “And Henry.” 

“Okay.” Emma flexed her fingers and reached for her magic. “I think I can work with that.” 

~

Several long hours later Emma poofed herself into Killian’s apartment and collapsed on the sofa with an exhausted sigh. 

“All right, love?” he called from the kitchen where he was cooking something that smelled amazing. 

“Yeah, I think so. I finally got the loft decorated to Regina’s satisfaction, so she’s going to spend the night there.” 

“Mom’s going to live at the loft?” Henry poked his head out from his bedroom. 

“Yeah, kid. I think we all felt that one night of her staying here was one night too many. For all of us.” 

“Not for me!” cried Henry. “I barely got to see her!” 

“Which is why we fixed up a room for you at the loft,” said Emma. “You can go there whenever you want.” 

Henry brightened. “Can I go tonight?” 

“If you’d like. Eat here first, though. Regina,” she paused to glance at Killian, “has a date.” 

“A date!” he exclaimed. 

“Yep. With Mr Wood from the bank.” 

“Interesting,” murmured Killian. 

“It is. I don’t recognise Mr Wood, he was definitely not here with the first curse. Henry do you have any idea who he is?” 

“No, but if he’s dating my mom I’m gonna find out,” said Henry. “I’ll see if he’s got a story in the book.” 

“What boo—wait, the storybook? You’ve got it?”

“Yep.” Henry ducked back into his room then reappeared a moment later waving the familiar brown leather book. “It showed up in the bookstore this afternoon when I got home from school. I’ve been looking for clues to how I can bring everyone’s love back.” 

“Good plan.” Emma heaved herself up off the sofa and went over to wrap her arms around Killian and lean her head against his shoulder. He kissed her hair in an almost absent gesture as he concentrated on stirring a simmering pot. 

“What is that?” she asked him. 

“Bouillabaisse.” 

“Booyah what?” 

“Its fish stew, Mom,” said Henry. 

“Um…” Emma shot her son a panicked grimace and Henry laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s really good. Dad’s a good cook, he can make even gross stuff taste nice.” 

“High praise indeed,” said Killian with a grin, though the word dad reminded him that they still hadn’t told Henry about Neal. He glanced down at Emma and could tell from the look on her face that she was thinking the same. 

“After dinner,” she murmured. “Let’s just have a quiet family meal, just a moment of peace. Then we’ll tell him.” 

“Aye, love. It’s a plan.” 

-

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