The Once Upon a Time Virtual Series
presents
Virtual Season 3
Episode 1
"And So It Begins"
(aka "A Bumpy Ride")

Executive Producer: Silverbluemoon
Story By: RebelByrdie and Silverbluemoon
Written By: RebelByrdie
Illustrated By: Dalliance-Amongst-The-Stars
Edited By: Silverbluemoon

Advisors and Consultants:
Characterization: Rushemiiaah
Consistency & Continuity: Awkwardfangirlurl

This series is Rated M for language, violence, drug references, and adult situations.
It is not intended for all audiences. Please use discretion.

Publication Date: 07/11/2014

The magic bean glimmered in the sunlight, a bright spot against Hook's weathered tan hand. When he threw it in the water, Regina felt the pulse of magic immediately, plain as the taste of salt on the air. The energy made the hairs on the nape of her neck stand at attention and her fingers twitch painfully. Regina braced herself as best she could and wrapped a rope around her arm to anchor herself. As they sailed towards the gaping blue maelstrom, she took one last look over her shoulder at Storybrooke: The town she had built, the town she had called home and raised her son in, the town she had so recently tried to wipe out of existence. Emma, who was holding on to the boom for dear life, was looking back too. There was silence, despite there being hundreds of things that desperately needed to be said, and then the world around them exploded.

It was a moment of barely controlled chaos. Magic crackled dangerously in the salty air as the portal opened in the usually gray Maine sea, the swirling waters opening like a mesmerizing cerulean eye, and at the focal point, the ship groaned once in resistance before giving way. The Jolly Roger teetered briefly, then fell, disappearing from Storybrooke's horizon.

Regina could feel the deck shudder beneath her boots, the wood groaning and creaking; she heard a rope snap and a canvas sail rip and she grit her teeth until her jaw ached. This barnacle-covered (my had she watched that cartoon with Henry one too many times!) overgrown rowboat was not going to hold together through the portal. And they could not rescue her son if they died before they even set foot in Neverland.

"Your floating death trap is going to fly apart, Pirate!" Regina's words were only barely audible over the rushing water and groaning timbers.

"Your dear Mother used her magic to hold the ship together for its last journey."

The mention of her mother made Regina wince, but she let the rope drop and raised her gloved hands. The magic burnt through her skin and ached in her joints, a sure sign that she had overextended herself. Her control was less precise and the price far more taxing, but the shimmer of violet energy did appear to be warring with the swirling blue of the portal. It was not enough, the violet flickered and waned, all but useless. She turned her head and her wet hair flipped around her cheek. She caught Rumpel's eye and he raised an eyebrow, as if to ask her if she really couldn't do this herself. It reminded her of the years she had spent learning how to use magic. She had not been amused then and she was not amused now. Whatever his reply might have been, he too raised his hands. The boat's shuddering settled, and its course, kept as keel as a one-handed pirate could keep it, steadied out.

The journey was jarring. There was no sky, and they were surrounded by unearthly glowing waters. It cast a menacing light on the ship and its ragtag crew. Fractured sapphire-hued light and odd flickering shadows painted the ship, lending a surreal, almost nightmarish quality to the scene. Regina's stomach, empty for more hours than she could accurately count, flipped, and she could taste bile on her tongue. She had never liked boats.

"Hold on!"

The sky, full of foreign stars, appeared, and the sense of vertigo that plagued them momentarily eased. The end of their journey was near. Regina braced herself and felt the oddest mix of weightlessness and gravity as they finally cleared the portal. There was a moment, a small and breathless second, that the phantom memory of a night spent flying through a cloudless sky in a far away time and kingdom washed over her. Then gravity, as inescapable as any other law of physics, reasserted itself, and they all came crashing down.

The ocean was flat, calm, placid. The surface of the water reflected the dark star-filled sky above it and at its horizon, it was quite impossible to tell sea from sky. The serenity was shattered-completely, however, by crackling lightning, a swirling vortex and sudden eruption of a ship from the sea. The notorious Jolly Roger leapt out of the dark waters and, for a moment defied gravity, before it came crashing back into waves below. The water, dark and clear, like an onyx looking glass, splashed up and around the ship, as if the sea itself was vehemently protesting the sudden introduction of wood and human on its surface.

Regina, without a solid hold on anything, lurched to the side only to be saved from falling overboard by a fast and hard introduction to the ship's side. The impact was sudden, sharp, and she wondered if one of her ribs had cracked. She catalogued her aches, and honestly couldn't tell which were old, new, better or worse. She tried to regain her footing, and after another small stumble, she did. She squared her shoulders, years of practice and training taking over, and turned once more to Hook.

"That was graceful, Pirate." Her voice dripped disdain and snark, "Was your last posting on the Titanic?" She rolled her eyes at his baffled expression and wondered why she had expected anything more.

Emma stood at the stern, watching the restless waves lap at the battered front of the ship. She glared hard at the vast empty sea, before turning towards the hold, determined to separate herself from Regina and Hook's pointless bickering. She could see Snow moving towards her, but David placed a firm hand on his wife's shoulder and shook his head, stopping her in her tracks. Emma would have to remember to thank him for that. The last thing she needed right now was a hug from Snow-Freaking-White.

She turned her attention back to where Regina was standing, or more like clinging to, the side of the ship. Her usually olive-toned skin was chalky, and she looked shaky, like one stiff breeze would knock her on her shapely ass. Emma shifted her weight from foot to foot, unsure of what to do.

Mr. Gold, however, had no such qualms. He brushed Snow and Hook aside and sauntered over to Regina like magically teleporting to the literal Never-Never Land was an everyday occurrence. He tilted his head and took in the former queen's discomfort, but did not seem especially concerned by it. He reached out, with no warning, and grabbed Regina's gloved hands. No one could ignore the wince that went across Regina's face or the quiet hiss of pain that accompanied it. She tried to pull her hands back, but Rumpelstiltskin held fast.

"You're not doing so well, Dearie."

Regina opened her mouth to retort but lost her words when he peeled off one of her black leather gloves. It was hard to tell from this angle and lighting exactly what had happened to the other woman's hands, but Emma could tell that it was not good. From what she could see, Regina's hand looked badly burned.

"You have a choice now, Your Majesty. I can tend to this for you, or Snow–" He paused. They both looked at Snow, seeing the woman had already pulled bandages from her backpack. He continued, "can wrap you up with bandages and boo-boo kisses. What will it be?"

She inclined her head, a Madam Mayor move Emma had seen a thousand times, and subtly winced again. "We will go below decks where you can at least see what you're doing." She looked at the rest of their motley crew, her eyes turning ice cold when she paused on Snow. "No rainbow kisses or unicorn print band-aids are necessary."

Regina then walked, shoulders straight, head held high, every inch the queen she had once been, passed the rest of them before descending into the crew's cabin and cargo hold. Gold followed her with a smirk on his face.

Emma waited all of thirty seconds before quietly following them. Maybe she didn't know all the voodoo magic and sailor-things she needed to know, but one thing she was very good at was staying quiet and blending into the background. They had been necessary survival skills from her past work and life. She hide behind a barrel and some rolled up canvas sails, intent on seeing exactly how hurt Regina really was and what Gold planned on doing about it.

They went below deck and when they were out of the way of prying eyes, Regina allowed her shoulders to slump. Keeping her knees stiff enough to hold herself upright had become a battle in and of itself, and she wasn't sure if it was the movement of the ship or the pain, but she was nauseated, bile constantly threatening to make an appearance.

Rumpelstiltskin removed her other glove and proceeded to turn her hands over to reveal what she had been hiding. The small charred black, scarlet streaked and painful blisters that the electric shocks had left on her fingers had worsened and spread. The very necessary overuse of her magic had done her no favors. The constant flow of magic from her hands while she had contained the trigger and then held the ship together had turned her usually pristine hands into a bloody and raw mess. She could see pieces of white bone and frayed and bloody muscle peeking out of blistered tissue. Faint flashes of violet and emerald magic played across her mutilated palms and left agonizing trails of pain in their wake. The price of magic, the price of putting her life on the line for people who would happily see her executed, had been high. If it hadn't been for Henry, she would have wondered if the damage was worth it.

"Not very pretty, dearie." She grit her teeth rather than hiss in pain. He waved a single hand over her wasted ones and the cool sensation of relief immediately replaced the pain. This time she couldn't control herself as she let out a small, shuddering sigh.

"I suppose it is pointless to tell you to rest and not use any more magic for a few days."

She glared at him but was too weary to say more than a simple, "I suppose it is."

The familiar, not-quite-comfortable tingle and itch of healing magic restored her body and made her think of the early days when magic had not come so easily to her and she had produced more mishaps than successes. Regina tried to ignore Rumpelstiltskin's clucks of disapproval now, just as she had done then. He turned his attention to the blisters on her temples, the one she had thought she had hidden with her hair, and harrumphed once more.

"Exhausting your magic will do you no good where we're going."

. . . Thank you for reading! You can now receive update alerts by following/favoriting this story here on ff.n (or subscribing on ao3), as a portion of each new episode will be uploaded in both locations as soon as we publish on our main site. Please find the rest of this episode *AND* its amazing illustrations at ouatvs *dot* com.