A/N: Hello! Here's another multi-chapter fic that I will likely not be able to finish. Well, I did warn you, though I do have about half the story written out. I got the idea from watching Anastasia, though it turned out nothing like it.

IMPORTANT BACKSTORY: remember how Snow and Charming visit Rumpel in his cell the very first episode and he claims there's no way to stop the curse? WELL, in this fic, Snow and Charming make a deal with Rumpel to prevent the curse from happening. Also, Snow and David have another kid in this story because I'd imagine they would have if the curse never happened. Captain Swan, of course. Will be M eventually, hence the rating, though probably won't be necessary for awhile. We shall see when and how that happens. Also, you may catch references to movies and other books, something I like doing in everything I write (Cough. Tangled)

Disclaimer: I sadly do not own OUAT or any of its characters. This story is merely for my own personal entertainment.

I hope you enjoy.

-x-

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far way, there ruled a beloved King and Queen. Through wars, trials and tribulations, nothing could keep them apart from one another—including an evil witch who wished, or tried rather, to enact a dark curse.

It was a tale as old as time, a story in which love saw no boundaries. Together, with the help of their friends, the King and Queen fought off the witch and banished her from their kingdom. At the height of the battle, the Queen gave birth to a beautiful baby girl with golden hair. Her name was Emma.

To celebrate her birth and their victory against the witch, the castle launched a flying lantern into the sky. The people rejoiced! A princess was born, with a prince soon to follow.

But the King and Queen had a secret, one so powerful that they feared their eight years of happiness were finally coming to an end.

-x-

The sound of wooden swords and children's laughter echoed throughout the courtyard. It showed no signs of ceasing, even as their light faded with the setting sun. A girl, about the age of eight, held her sword up high, blocking each blow from the boy across from her. The boy was taller, perhaps a little older, but this seemed to matter little to the girl. The girl, Emma, had an excellent tutor. Emma may have looked the part, but she certainly wasn't your typical princess, not that Charming and Snow minded. In fact, it had been their idea for her to take up 'dancing lessons,' as her father referred to them. Boy, had she been happy to discover that by 'dance instructor,' her father secretly meant 'sword instructor.'

Emma was more than happy to show her tricks to her friend, Pinocchio, the carpenter's son.

"en garde!" Emma shouted, as she shoved her wooden sword under her friend's armpit.

Well, perhaps not all her tricks.

The boy, Pinocchio, let out a dramatic gasp before falling to his knees. Then letting out a fake cry, he stretched out his arms and collapsed to the ground with a thud. Emma smiled in triumph, batting the hair from her eyes, which had fallen loose from her ponytail.

"I let you win," Pinocchio said stubbornly.

She smiled, catching his lie. "Liar."

Pinocchio, still lying on his back, shrugged. "Perhaps." Then ever so quickly, he snapped his leg out and knocked her feet out from under her. She landed on top of him with an 'umph', her wooden sword falling from her grasp. Pinocchio used his strength to his advantage and rolled them over to pin her to the ground.

Not for long, though. Unlike Pinocchio, she the saw the world, not always as it was, but as it could be…with perhaps a little bit of magic. She could feel it humming beneath her skin, anchoring itself inside her heart. She released it, not enough to hurt him, but enough to jolt him and throw him off her.

"Ow!" Pinocchio scowled. "No magic! That's the rules!"

Emma stuck her tongue out at him. "We also said no lying."

Pinocchio's eyebrows scrunched together. "I didn't lie. I let you win!"

Lie.

Emma sat up. Pinocchio pulled out an apple from his pocket. Just when he was about to take a bite, Emma snatched it from his hand and bit into it herself.

"Hey!" her friend scowled. "That was mine! I found it."

Emma rolled her eyes. "It was actually mine. I saw you take it."

It was hers. She found it out in the courtyard and snatched it without a second thought. Emma loved apples, though her mother—for reasons unexplainable to her—strictly forbid having them inside the castle.

Pinocchio crossed his arms over his chest with a huff, though he didn't argue.

"Emma!"

Emma glanced up to find her mother waving her inside. Her baby brother, Leo, sat on her mother's hip, playing with the curls of Snow's hair. She shot Pinocchio a pointed look. "You didn't win," she told him stubbornly. She tossed the red apple into the grass behind her, so her mother wouldn't see her eating it.

Pinocchio smiled. "Tomorrow? Same time."

Emma nodded before racing off to her mother and brother. Leo's face immediately lit up with joy upon seeing her. He reached for her, catching her ponytail instead and gave it a sharp tug.

"Dilly!" he said.

"Ow!" Emma snapped. "Mom!"

Snow batted her son's hand away from her daughter's hair. "Oh hush. You did that too at his age."

Leo laughed at that. Emma frowned. Then she poked him in the stomach. "It's Em-AH. Why is that so hard for you to say?"

"Dilly," Leo confirmed and Emma huffed.

"That's your fault," she told her mother pointedly. "He got it from that song you sing us."

Snow smiled, clearly amused and unconcerned. "You know, one day you're going to be too old for that," her mother told her, not so casually changing the subject.

Emma fought the urge to gag, not at all blind to her mother's implications. Pinocchio was her friend.

"Ew, Mom."

Snow laughed. "Talk to me in ten years and let me know if you think boys are still gross."

Emma skipped ahead, her blond hair flowing behind her. "I'm never getting married," she told her mother proudly.

"Ah. Is that so?" Snow asked and Leo cheered for her. Something they seemed to agree on for once.

Her father came around the corner then, caught her around the waist, and threw her over his shoulder. "Ah! There's my favorite princess."

Emma let out an uncharacteristic screech as her father tickled her relentlessly. "Dad! Put me down," she said, nearly breathless. Still laughing, David set his daughter back on her feet. "I'm your only princess," Emma challenged him, arms on her hips.

David winked at his wife, grinning widely.

"She gets it from you," Snow told him.

Emma leaned against her father, suddenly very tired. When David lifted her back up again, she didn't protest. "Can I stay up?" she asked him, yawning despite herself. Perhaps if Emma was a little older, she would have caught the estranged look her parents shared. Snow visibly tensed, a shadow crossing her pale features.

"You know the rules," David said, forcing on a smile.

"But I'm your favorite princess," Emma argued tiredly.

David chuckled at that. "That you are." Then after a second thought, he asked, "How about a bedtime story instead?"

"Deal," Emma said, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Can Leo sleep in my room tonight?"

Snow's eyebrows shot up, surprised at the request. It wasn't that her daughter and son didn't get along; it was just rare that Emma ever so openly displayed affection towards any of them, especially to her brother. She was a closed book, that one. Only David ever seemed to knock down those walls of hers. Even then, it was no easy task.

Now that, Snow thought with a smirk, she had gotten from her mother.

David's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "Sweetheart, you're burning up."

"Is she?" Snow asked, rushing to her husband's side. She placed her hand on her daughter's head and frowned. Emma was quite warm. A thin line of sweat seemed to have magically formed on her forehead. "She was fine a minute ago." Then Snow's eyes grew wide with an unspoken fear. "David…"

David patted his daughter on her back. "I'm sure she's fine. A little cold is all," he told his wife with a pointed look.

Snow's lips formed into a fine line before she gave him the smallest of nods. "I'm sure," she said after a moment.

Her parents carried her and Leo the remainder of the way to their bedrooms, helping them change and get ready for bed. Emma was practically asleep by the time her father tucked her under the covers. Despite her best wishes, her parents did not let Leo sleep in her room that night, fearing that he would catch whatever she had suddenly developed.

"Story?" Emma muttered, even on the brink of sleep.

David kissed her forehead and handed his daughter her favorite teddy bear, simply named Bear. Emma wrapped her arms around it, pulling Bear in close. David had picked it out for her before she was even born. She never slept without it.

"Tomorrow, sweetheart," David promised, knowing that his baby girl wouldn't be able to stay awake much longer. "Feel better."

Emma wanted to argue, but she was much too tired to do so. Snow gently caressed her daughter's cheek, pressing her hair back and out of her face. Very softly, Snow began to sing, filling the room with a melodic tune of happiness and peace.

Lavender blue, dilly, dilly

Lavender green

If I were king, dilly, dilly

I'd need a queen

As Snow sang, Emma fell into a deep sleep.

-x-

That night, Emma dreamt of an Evil Queen who wished to destroy her family's happiness. In the dream, this Queen had stole her at birth and took her to a faraway, terrible land. Her brother had never been born and she grew up thinking her parents had abandoned her on the side of a road. In this dream world, she grew up not knowing about magic or fairies. She grew up not knowing the true meaning of love and happiness and all things good in the world.

Emma woke with a gasp.

Her hair was sticky from sweat that had matted to her face. She wanted to cry, unsure if these were side effects from the dream or if it was because she actually felt sick to her stomach. Perhaps it was a little bit of both. She winced, feeling a sharp pain inside her heart.

She felt like she was on fire.

It burned through her body, pulsating right at the scar on her left wrist. In many ways, it reminded her somewhat of a flower. You had to squint and tilt your head a certain way, but if you did, you could see the outline of a few petals.

And right now, her wrist was throbbing.

Emma choked back a sob, wanting nothing more than to curl up in her parent's arms. She reached for Bear, before throwing her legs over the bed and making her way towards her parents' chambers. Emma believed monsters only came out at night, when the world grew dark and cold, so she ran as fast as her legs would carry her. When she didn't find them there, she sniffled, wondering why they hadn't gone to bed yet.

It was incredibly late, or at least, it seemed that way to her. It felt like she had slept for hours. Emma knew they had company over, which is why she had requested to stay up in the first place. When they threw balls, they typically did let her stay up, but something about this visit stood out from the rest. Her parents whispered about it and talked in a weird and rushed sort of way that made Emma question whether this was a good or a bad visit.

She made her way to the dining area first. Along the way, she caught the white light of the study from down the hallway. She found it a curious meeting place, and she wondered if her parents' guests had requested to see the library.

She just about opened the door when she heard her name. Emma paused. They were talking about her, which was enough to make her forget the gurgling of her stomach and the heat in her heart. Emma peaked through the crack in the door. She could see their feet, four pairs to be exact. Her father's voice sounded like he lost it in his throat.

"She's the savior."

Blue. That was Blue's voice.

"There's no such thing."

"But the prophecy," Blue went on.

Her father slammed his hands on the table, making her jump. She rarely saw him angry, and his reaction frightened her. "Prophecy?! You think I care about some stupid prophecy?! We avoided it before, we can avoid it again."

"David," Snow said calmly, sternly. "Regina is back. We knew the cost when we stopped her from casting the dark curse eight years ago. We both knew this day would come. Rumpel-"

"Don't say his name."

"—said this would happen."

Her father shook his head. "She won't take her from us. I will die before I let that happen."

Emma's heart began to beat faster insider her chest. The ringing in her ears seemed to intensify to the point where she couldn't think straight. She really didn't feel good. A tear escaped her eye, a rarity in itself for Emma never cried. She wanted to go in there, yet she felt like she'd interrupt something terribly important. Emma pulled Bear in closer to her chest.

"I know," Snow told him softly. "I know."

"What if…" his voice faded, dropping to a low whisper.

Emma leaned forward, straining to hear. The floorboards creaked from under her weight, giving her away. Their conversation dropped quickly, dying its own death. Emma held her breath, fearing her parents' wrath now that they had caught her eavesdropping, something they always seemed to be lecturing her about lately.

Then after a moment, she heard her mother's voice. "Emma, sweetheart. You can come in."

Emma pushed open the door to see her parents by the fireplace with Blue and Jiminy at their side, along with Granny and Auntie Red. They all had their noses shoved in books. None of them looked her way though.

"I don't feel good," she mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Snow crossed the room in moments, pulling her daughter in tightly. Emma felt the ground disappear from under her, as her mother lifted her into her arms. She leaned her head heavily on her mother's shoulder. Emma felt content there. The burning sensation in her heart seemingly fading away in her mother's embrace.

"Oh, sweetie," Snow hummed. "David, I think she's sick. She's burning up."

"You know what this means, Snow," Blue told them hauntingly.

Emma wrapped her arms around her mother's neck just a little tighter, sensing Blue's threat had everything to do with her. In response, Snow just shot the fairy a piercing glare.

"What's what mean?" Emma mutter, incredibly tired.

"Let's get you back to bed, sweetheart."

"Will you stay with me? I had a bad dream."

Snow pressed a kiss into her daughter's forehead. "Always," she whispered, a tear escaping in spite of herself.

As her mother whisked her away, Emma heard a voice inside her head, one that did not sound human. It instilled a deep fear in the pit of her stomach.

All magic comes with a price, Dearie.

-x-

Overcome with illness, Emma spent the remainder of the week confined to her bed, something she truly hated. Emma longed for adventure, longed to feel the sun on her skin once more and longed to sword fight with her friend. Only in her dreams could she escape her room, which had become somewhat of a prison in its own way. She dreamt of sword fights, a girl with the power of ice, and a pirate ship that sailed wherever, whenever its pirate captain wanted.

She liked that, not having anything to hold her back, including petty things like time.

To live forever, well, would be an awfully big adventure.

Her dreams made her happy. They made her forget the pain in her stomach and the fire in her heart. She slept the days away, something that concerned her parents greatly. She tried, of course, to please them. She hated seeing them so worried. Once to prove that she was feeling better, she plastered on a smile and found the little strength she had left to convince them to take her outside. She hardly made it two feet before her legs collapsed from under her, sending her mother into a state of panic and herself into a world of darkness.

For the next few days, she went in and out of consciousness, catching the words and whispers of those who sat at her bedside here and there. Something about a flower. Regina. Poison. That last one startled her the most, though she dwelled little on it and fell back asleep, this time dreaming of a mermaid who'd risk anything to get back to her prince.

When she awoke sometime later, the moon sat high in the sky and her mother was caressing her cheek. She felt incredibly frail, lying there, unable to think or move. Something ate away at her soul, as if something had sucked the life out of her from the inside out. What should have terrified her, only made her sad and a little bit content. She knew the truth. She could feel it and it did not scare her.

"Mommy? Am I dying?" she asked her mother that night, even though she already knew the answer. While she could not recall her mother's answer, she could recall her mother's sobs as she fell into a deep sleep, this time dreaming of a land were children never grew up.

On the seventh day, she woke up much earlier than she typically did. The sun had not even risen yet. Her mother and baby brother had curled themselves against her, still sound asleep in her bed. Emma rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and caught her father at the doorway, holding a cup in his hand.

The cup glowed gold.

"David?" her mother mumbled sleepily.

When her mother's eyes fell on the glowing cup, her mother shot up and out of bed. Leo let out a little whimper before rolling over and curling himself back against Emma's side. Normally, this would have annoyed her, with his close proximity and him drooling all over her nightgown, but it only made her sad. She wasn't afraid of dying anymore, but she was afraid of leaving Leo behind so soon. Would he even remember her?

"You found it?" Her mother whispered, hope winding its way into her voice. Her father nodded and her mother broke down crying.

Emma glanced between them, confused. Her father must have sensed her fear because he waltzed the rest of the way over to her and took a seat by her side. He touched her mother's cheek first, brushing away her tears with his thumb, before doing the same to a sleeping Leo. He turned to her last and brushed back her golden hair from her face.

"Want to hear a story?" her father asked her, his voice light and full of hope. Emma nodded eagerly. She liked stories. Her father smiled at her. "Once upon a time, a single drop of sunlight fell from the heavens. And from this small drop of sun grew a magic, golden flower. It had the ability to heal the sick and injured."

Emma eyed the potion skeptically. It gave off a beautiful, golden glow. "Will that heal me?" she asked him quietly.

She rarely ever saw her father cry, but he cried freely now and it scared her. He nodded, at lost for words. She took the cup from him and brought it to her lips. A warm sensation washed over her. Pleasant, she thought—the last thing she remembered before falling back into a blissful sleep.

-x-

When she awoke the next day, Emma felt brand new. She threw off the covers, stretching out her limbs, feeling incredibly weak from not having used them in several days. Her parents were pacing back in forth across her room, looking like they had not slept a minute. Leo sat on her floor, playing with the building blocks she had gotten him for his last birthday.

"Mom? Dad?"

"Oh thank gods," Snow whispered, rushing to her daughter's bedside. Her mother's hands were all over her, feeling her forehead, pushing back her hair. She tossed her father a smile. "David, her fever broke!"

Leo laughed loudly at that.

"How do you feel, sweetheart?" her father asked her.

"Can I go outside, Daddy?" Emma asked him.

Her parents both laughed, though the tears streaming down their faces made her recoil just the tinniest of bits. She thought better of it, and instead, she reached out and brushed a few of them aside.

"Why are you sad?" she asked them the only way a child could.

Snow smiled through her tears. "I'm not sad, sweetheart. I'm happy. So incredibly, indescribably happy."

Her parents brought her to the courtyard only after her doctor gave her the go-ahead that she could go outside. She was pleasantly surprised to find her friend there, batting his wooden sword around and hitting imaginary targets.

"Emma!" Pinocchio screamed with glee when he saw her.

"No sword fighting today," her father told him quickly. "Not until Emma builds back her strength."

Pinocchio shrugged and sat cross-legged from them, not seeming to mind in the slightest.

Emma wanted to argue, but found herself still too tired to do so. She still felt incredibly weak, as if someone had kidnapped her soul and placed it somewhere she couldn't find it.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," her friend told her.

"Me too."

They sat like that for a while, enjoying the sun and fresh air. They watched her brother run around the courtyard, falling on his butt every now and then, before giggling loudly and picking himself back up.

"Leo," her mother called when he wobbled a little too far from them.

Leo walked back over to her and with a laugh, handed his mother the apple, now rotten, that Emma had not finished from what felt like a lifetime ago. Emma grew threw shades brighter and tossed her friend a look that screamed why didn't you get rid of that! You know how my mother feels about apples!

Pinocchio, who had suddenly found the grass much more interesting, refused to meet her stare.

"What's this?" her mother asked, slightly confused. When she realized exactly what it was, Snow shot her husband a look. "David…"

"Playtime is over," her father agreed quickly.

"But Dad! We just got here," Emma whined.

But her pleas seemed to matter little to them and before she could protest any further, her parents whisked her and her brother back inside to the safety of their castle.

-x-

That night, as her parents tucked her into bed, she sensed something different about them. Her mother kept glancing out the window, lost in thought, and her father had an expression on his face that she couldn't quite place.

"Emma…" her father began softly. "Your mother and I need to know if you ate that apple."

Emma thought about lying to them, but thought better of it. They didn't seem mad, only concerned. After a moment, she gave them a soft nod, before glancing down. "Are you mad?" she mumbled.

David titled her chin back up, forcing her to look him in the eye. "Of course not."

"Emma," her mother began sternly. "Your father and I need to tell you something and I need you not to be afraid. Okay?" Snow asked her as she took a seat on the opposite side of the bed as her husband.

Emma nodded, unable to stop the fear from bubbling up in the pit of her stomach.

"I once had a step-mother. Her name was Regina and she went bad, as bad as you could go. You see, my stepmother and I did not always see eye-to-eye. A long time ago, I betrayed her trust, something I still regret to this day."

Emma grabbed Bear, sensing this story did not have a happy ending. "Regina," Emma said, testing the name. "She's the evil witch from the stories…of how you guys took back the castle?"

Snow nodded. "Yes."

"Emma," her father began, picking up the pieces where her mother left off. "That night you were born, Regina planned to enact a Dark Curse, but we made a deal with a terrible man to stop it from happening."

"Why?" she asked, much too afraid to ask what deal they had made. She hadn't heard this part of the story before and frankly, she didn't think she liked it very much.

Snow squeezed her hand, reassuringly. "We had a plan. I would go through a magical wardrobe that would transport us to a different world, to keep you safe and hidden." Snow gave her a weak smile. "However, you seemed to have a different plan and came early. The wardrobe could only take one."

Emma thought about the dream she had, the one where her brother had never been born, the one where her parents had left her on the side of the road.

"The broken curse did not stop, Regina. She came for you the night you were born," her father continued. "She tried to stop me and she did stop me."

Emma's lip trembled, but a part of her knew her parents weren't just telling her this for a pleasant bedtime story. "Did she take me?"

"She would have, Emma. Oh she would have and I can't even imagine if something were to happen to you, but something happened that night. Something we or even Blue cannot explain." Snow paused. "She tried to kill you, Emma." Then gesturing towards Emma's wrist, she said, "Did you ever wonder how you got that scar?"

Emma tucked her hand under the sheets, not wanting to look at it anymore. A part of her always liked it because scars shouted adventure. Now though, she found herself not liking it so much.

"Emma, it's not just a scar," her mother said. "That's what happens when powerful magic touches you. You see? No one knows what happened exactly. All we know is that Regina vanished and everyone in that room died that night, Emma, all except you."

Emma's eyes grew wide with horror. She glanced at her father. "…but…but you were there," she said horror-struck. "You didn't die."

"I did," was all her father said and Emma grew quite pale.

"Emma, your father and I share one heart," her mother cut in. "We weren't sure it'd work. In fact, it almost didn't. He was asleep for four years."

Emma's eyes grew wide in horror, trying to imagine sleeping for that long. She supposed that explained the five-year age difference between her and her brother.

"I don't understand—"

Her mother cupped her cheek and wiped away her daughter's tears. "It doesn't matter, Sweetheart. What matters is that you and your father are alive."

Questions exploded insider her head like fireworks and she didn't know which to ask first. "Why are you telling me this?" she didn't like this story and she was going to be mad if they didn't have a reason for telling it.

"Because there's a prophecy," Snow told her and David let out a very frustrated sigh.

"Snow…"

"David," Snow snapped. "Now is not the time."

David leaned back, clearly wanting to say something, but he held his tongue.

"That night we made a deal with Rumpelstiltskin, we let him go. That was the deal. In return, he told us everything he knew about stopping the curse and what the cost of that would be." Snow let out a deep breath. "Emma, he told us that one day Regina would return and take back what she believed to be hers. He told us that the kingdom would be trapped until a savior, on her twenty-eighth birthday would return." Snow looked down. With a deep breath, she looked back up. "Emma, he told us that the savior would be you."

Silence hovered in the air around them, thick with tension. After a moment, Emma broke out in tears.

"But… but I don't want to be a savior," she shouted at them.

"It's alright, sweetheart. That man cannot be trusted," David jumped in, shooting his wife a piercing look.

Emma jumped into his arms, clinging to him as if someone would whisk her away that very moment. Her father held her as she cried and cried, only ceasing when she drifted into a terribly, unpleasant sleep.

-x-

Emma dreamt of a man—no, not even a man, something more like a beast—with scaly green skin and a high-pitched laugh. She dreamt of her parents making a deal with this beast. She could hear his voice too, it rooted somewhere deep inside her mind.

"The realm will be trapped where everything we hold dear, everything we love will be ripped from us as we suffer from all eternity while the Queen celebrates victoriously!"

The beast, with his beady black eyes, let out a howl. Emma cringed at the sound. His teeth and black eyes reminded her of a crocodile.

"Get the child to safety. Get the child to safety." The monster's face contorted as he closed his eyes in a twisted manner, as if he was trying to find something deep within that head of his. "On her…twenty-eighth birthday the child will return. The child will find you and the final battle will begin!"

The beast shouted that last part. Then gripping the bars that bounded him, he hoisted himself up and let out another sharp cackle, making Emma's insides and the scar on her wrist burn. Emma's gaze snapped down, startled to find that her scar, the scar she had once loved, was on fire. She clasped her other hand over it, desperate to put out the flame, but she couldn't. The flames only grew larger before consuming her arm entirely. Her body then ignited with hiss and –

Emma awoke with what would have been a scream if it weren't for a hand clamped firmly over her mouth. She struggled against her intruder and her sense of feeling returned in a rush of bitter agony.

"Emma!" her intruder hissed at her.

She paused, recognizing that voice. "Pinocchio?" Emma mumbled.

Her heart began to calm, but it did not last long. She caught the fear in her friend's eyes. She sat up, fully awake now, and that was when she smelt it. Smoke. It was suffocating her and coming from somewhere down the hall.

Her home.

It was burning.

"Emma," Pinocchio whispered urgently. "We have to go. Someone is storming the castle." Pinocchio grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out of the bed.

She reeled back, snapping her arm away from him because she didn't understand. She couldn't process it. She didn't want to process any of it. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. She had so many questions, but she couldn't seem to find her voice because this wasn't happening.

"Quickly, Emma. They're coming for you."

There were shouts and screams from down the hall. Through the crack under her door, she could see the glow of the flames. Thick black smoked rolled its way under the door and into her room, turning her walls to charcoal. The sight snapped her senses into place and she raced for that door, but Pinocchio caught her around the waist and threw her back with a surprising amount of strength.

"Emma! We don't have time," he shouted urgently.

"But my parents! My brother!" she gasped.

"It's too late for them," he told her without thinking. "I'm sorry but we have to go." He must have seen something in her expression then, something that told him she would not go without them, because he added, "They'll be alright. They plan to meet us by the docks."

Lie.

When he grabbed her by the wrist again, she didn't resist. They raced to the opposite side of her room, where a painting had been carelessly tossed aside. In its place stood a long and daunting staircase that seemed to lead down into an all-consuming darkness. She had lived in this bedroom for eight-years and had no idea there was a secret passage. In fact, she doubted her parents even knew it existed.

Pinocchio tugged on her arm, dragging her down several flights of stairs. Her legs kept giving out from under her and she kept missing steps,as her mind tried to process the events unfolding around her. Fear wedged its way up into her throat, making it difficult to breath. Her magic kept sparking in her hands, unsure of how to contain it.

"Emma! Stop it. Someone will hear."

But she didn't know how to stop or control it. So many emotions overcame her then that it felt like she would drown. She let her friend lead the way because right now, she needed someone to keep her steady. The staircase eventually leveled out to another long hallway, though this one was damp and cold. She could hear the sound of rushing water from all around them, though she wasn't sure if that was actually water or her magic roaring in her ears. The only light that filtered in was from the flame of Pinocchio's torch.

They ran for what seemed like an eternity before Pinocchio skidded to a halt. A wall that had caved in on itself, piled high with rocks and debris, laid in front of them, blocking their only way out.

"Now what!?" Emma asked, out of breath, heart hammering inside her chest.

Pinocchio fell to his knees and hurriedly began throwing rocks to the side. There was a loud bang from somewhere behind them and Emma knew that whoever had ransacked their castle would be upon them soon.

"Move!" she shouted.

Emma didn't even think. She threw up her hand and a burst of white light shot from it. It exploded the rocks, making a hole just large enough for the size of a child to slip through.

"You first," Pinocchio told her.

Emma crawled through the hole, tumbling out of it and down a slope of rocks before finally landing on the ground with a thud. The cold air hit her like a bucket of ice, though she had little time to dwell on this. Pinocchio skidded down the slope of rocks, landing practically on top of her. Then he pushed himself up and grabbed her wrist, pulling her right back to her feet before she could catch her breath.

"Don't let them get away!" a guard shouted through the hole they had just come through.

"Quickly, Emma!"

Emma's heart stilled. Guards. They were everywhere. She threw her head over her shoulder, startled to find her castle entirely consumed in bright orange flames. Towers began to crumble and for a moment, fear paralyzed her.

Her parents were still in there.

"Emma!" Pinocchio screamed, snapping her out of her daze.

Without needing further explanation, she fled. She was soaked to the thigh with muck and slush in a matter of minutes, although it didn't seem to bother Pinocchio in the slightest. She winced as a branch snapped back against her face and opened a cut over her right eye.

A twig snapped from somewhere behind her.

She ran faster.

Her legs felt as if they would never take another step, but she kept running. Too stubborn to stop and too frightened to face whatever laid behind her. Her heart pounded, her lungs burned, her eyes watered. Then for an agonizing moment, her breath caught in her throat and she flew through the air. Her attacker was upon her before she even hit the ground.

"You think you can run from the Queen?" a man she didn't recognize sneered. He dressed in all black, blending into the night like a bat. He held a knife in his hand and he held it over her heart.

Emma closed her eyes, waiting for the pain that would never come.

"Get off her!"

Air rushed back into her lungs as Pinocchio threw the man off her. She recovered quickly enough to catch Pinocchio wrestling the man to the ground. The man fell backwards. But the man was five times Pinocchio's size and the knight threw Pinocchio off him like a rag doll.

"Emma! Run!" Pinocchio screamed.

Then the dark knight brought the blunt end of his sword down hard on Pinocchio's head. Pinocchio fell to his knees, collapsing face down into the ground, not moving.

Emma choked back a sob. She wanted to call out for him. She didn't want to leave her friend there to die. She didn't. Oh god, she really didn't, but fear had a funny way of bringing out everyone's true colors and that fear pulled at her heartstrings now. When the dark knight stood back up and gave her a wicked smile, she hardly hesitated.

She ran.

And she hated herself for it.

But she was scared. She was so terribly scared.

Emma sprinted into the unknown, branches slapped back against her face, mud destroyed her nightgown. Just when she thought she couldn't go any further, she tore through a snarl of vines and burst out into a clearing. She skidded to a halt, nearly toppling over a cliff in the process. She stood on top of the outlook with a sheer cliff, yards away from a dangerous drop-off, which overlooked a tumultuous river.

"There's nowhere to go," a voice spoke from behind her.

Her head snapped back. Over the treetops, she could see the orange glow of the fire destroying everything she had ever known.

"Come with me, Princess. There's someone who'd like to meet you."

Emma swallowed hard and glanced back over the cliff's edge. Emma peered over it, wondering if she could survive a fall from this height. She glanced back at the knight. The gleam of the knife against the moon was enough to make up her mind.

She jumped.

-x-

Killian lived his life by a series of rules, or vows if you will, each coming at their own place and rightful time.

The first vow came to him when he was no more than eight. His father's ship heaved and shouted protests around him as the storm they sailed into threatened to swallow them whole. The waves and sounds of the sea terrified him and he feared that with one misplaced wave, the ship would flounder into the ocean and sink to the floor. He flashed a glimpse at Liam, who slept peacefully in the bunk across from his. Killian felt a rush of envy, knowing his brother could sleep through the storm.

Unable to stop himself, he shouted for his father. His father came into the room and lit the candles again calmly. His father held himself up with confidence, no ounce of fear betrayed in his gaze.

"Now, remember. Whenever you feel scared, all you have to do is look inside," his father told him, taping his chest with a finger. "We are all braver than we think if we just look deep enough."

Something about that struck a chord. Killian knew that his father was a man he would always strive to be.

Funny, how appearances could be deceiving

But there was no way for him to know that by morning he would not see his father again for quite some time. There was no way of knowing that come morning, Captain Sliver would waltz into the cabin, claiming that his father had just sold him and Liam into servitude.

That day Killian vowed on the type of man he wanted to be, and that wasn't his father.

The second vow he lived by came to him about six years later. Killian had gotten himself into quite the pickle.

But damnit.

He was a fourteen-year-old starving kid and he was certain that Captain Silver was going to kill him before he even made it to adulthood and damn him, he refused to let that happen. So when nobody was looking, or rather when he thought nobody was looking, he snatched a loaf of bread right from the Captain's cabin. He would have gotten away with it too if Hawkins hadn't caught him in the act.

Hawkins, nearly three times his side, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him to the Captain, the same Captain his father had sold him and his brother into servitude all those years ago. Captain Silver emerged with that stupid pet parrot, Captain Flint, perched on his shoulder and threatened to throw him off the ship or walk the bloody plank. Killian would have welcomed it too, if Liam hadn't come to defend his honor. They held him down and they made him watch as Liam took a beating in his place.

That day, he vowed to never let his brother pay for his mistakes again. That day he wished to become even half the man Liam was.

The third vow seemed to come in the blink of an eye and until that night, he hadn't realized the true meaning of the word pain. They had their whole lives ahead of them.

Had.

Killian may have been there physically, but mentally he was incredibly far, far away. Killian knew about pain, had grown up with it his entirely life, and yet nothing could have prepared him for the pain of losing his brother. His shoulders sagged with a weight he hadn't known existed before. He was suffocating and for the first time in his life, he realized that you didn't need water to feel like you were drowning.

Unbearable. Hollow. Empty. Numb. Devastated.

Words.

They didn't give it justice and for those who had never lost a loved one, couldn't possibly imagine it.

"This belongs to you now…Captain."

Amazing how the simplest of words could undo you. Killian forced back the tears, refusing to let the others see him cry. Simmons held out a satchel that belonged to Liam.

Had belonged, Killian corrected.

Had.

Killian graced his hand over the crest. There was once a time that when he saw it, his heart would swell with pride. Now he only felt bitter, hollow, empty. He couldn't go back, not after everything he knew now.

"We are sworn to serve the king and the realm," he began, the words coming to him on their own, as if his heart was speaking for him. He took a torch from one of the men. "They sent us to retrieve an unthinkable poison, one that killed our dear captain." His voice waived with emotion, overcome with sadness and anger, until they met as one.

He caught sight of Pegasus's sail and raced over to it. He stood a foot above the others now. In the back, he thought he could make out Liam's ghost. It gave him the courage he needed to move forward.

"Never again should anyone set sail to that curse of land."

He set the feathers on fire and watched it burn. The weight holding him down seemed to lift just a smudge.

"And never again should we take such orders. Serving the king, fighting his wars! That is the way of dishonor and all of you who disagree can flee now or walk the bloody plank." He met the eyes of the crew, his crew, and he knew he had their undivided attention. Some of the men would abandon ship the first chance they got, but he could see that the majority of them would stick by his side.

"Those who stay will be free men and I will be your Captain!" he cried out to them and he was pleased to hear shouts of agreement. Their excitement fueled his anger, and he took it and turned his grief into wrath. He could hear his voice growing stronger, more confident as it formed into a Captain his crew deserved. "We will sail under the crimson flag and we will give our enemies no quarter! We will take what we please and we will live by our own rules and that is the best form of all. Our kingdom is corrupt and immoral. They took my brother from me and I'm going to take everything they got. Starting with this ship!"

And as his crew shouted their chants around him, that was the day he became Captain Killian Jones of the Jolly Roger.

Vow three: a man who took what he pleased and lived by his own rules.

A pirate's life suited him. He enjoyed it too, living life as he pleased, sailing wherever he wanted. He imagined if he had grown up without a brother, his life may have drifted more towards this path rather than Lieutenant of the Jewel of the Realm. Liam had kept his sanity in check, had kept him whole. Now that Liam was gone, Killian found it incredibly hard to stay on a path his brother would have wanted for him.

Killian barked out a laugh at the very thought. If only Liam could see him now.

Of course, with a pirate's life came not his proudest moments either. Robbing and thievery and sleeping around were several things, petty things, but a pirate's life also brought death. The first life he took had been an accident. A stupid bar fight that had gotten out of hand. Even drunk and broken, Killian hardly thought of it as a challenge. The feeling of someone's blood on his hands, for no good reason, struck a chord with him in ways he hadn't anticipated.

Liam.

He had found out later. He had killed a man who shared the same name as his brother and it nearly undid him. He sobbed for that stranger, alone in his cabin where no one would see his tears. He pictured this man's wife and child waiting for him to come home and Killian heaved out the contents of his stomach, knowing that the man's family would never see him again. He scrubbed and scrubbed his hands until they went raw and cracked with blood. Yet no matter how much he scrubbed, he couldn't wash away the invisible blood. The stranger's death only served as another permanent reminder that he would never live up to even a fraction of the man Liam had been.

That night, he vowed to never take a life unless absolutely necessary.

Vow five came to him unexpectedly, as he hadn't been looking for anyone in particular. But Milah came to him like a dream and a Bloody Crocodile came along with her. Yet, even if he would have known, he wouldn't have changed it for the world. Milah had been a breath of fresh air in his bleak, dark life. She made him smile, she made him laugh, and for the first time since Liam's death, he found his heart swell with love and joy. But the Crocodile had other plans and that monster took her from him in the blink of an eye.

It only took seconds for Rumpelstiltskin to destroy his whole world.

On the day of Milah's death, he also became Captain Hook and he vowed to only ever risk his life for love and revenge. That night he promised himself that he would kill the Crocodile, one way or another, even if it meant taking his own life to get it.

And last but not least: vow six.

Killian carried the ghosts of the people he loved with him everywhere he went. His father. His brother. Milah. The stranger he had killed for no good reason. They were always there, always watching and their deaths weighed heavily on his soul. They whispered into his ear, wearing him down, speaking nuisance things. No matter how hard he tried to shake their images, they were always there with their judging eyes and unwanted words of wisdom.

He shut their voices out, turning to rum to ease his pain.

After Milah, he vowed to never get attached to someone again because it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all was the most rubbish thing he had ever heard. Love, it swept your feet out from under you and then it drowned you. There was no safe haven when it came to love, only regret and bitterness and inevitable heartbreak. And lucky for him, he had spent the last century cheating death and turning that heartbreak into wrath. One day he would get his revenge and it would all be worth it.

Killian took another swig of his drink before slamming it down on the table. A girl's whose name he could not remember laughed loudly next to him. She had her body pressed up against his, cleavage pressed out, clearly looking for a good time—not that he minded. He and his crew were still freshly back from Neverland. They had stopped in the first town they laid eyes on. They'd been there for two weeks now and his crew had certainly made up for lost time.

The obnoxious girl let out another ridiculous high-pitched, irritating laugh. She kept staring at him as if he would take her away from all the horrors of the world. He held his tongue, wanting to tell her that he was no prince charming.

He rolled the dice, which flashed a couple of threes, a one and a two, earning him the lowest score. His crew hooted and hollered around him, shoving coins his way. The girl leaned in closer, eyes darkening with desire. She was only another petty reminder of why he lived by vow six. He thought that perhaps she should too. Don't get attached because in the morning he would be long gone, without a care in the world. He almost told her this in his drunken haze, but he managed to hold his tongue.

"What are you boys playing?"

Killian's head snapped up at the unfamiliar voice and froze. A striking blonde he had never seen before was leaning over the table, clearly displaying her cleavage for all of them to see. Just like that, he suddenly forgot how to speak.

Don't get attached.

Well, damn.