Yeah, I couldn't stop myself. It's actually a bit of an experiment, 'cause that's a very far cry from my usual stile. (But I kinda liked it).
Anyways, that's my new OTP now. Really, there's like a whole power plant of electricity between those two.
(On the other hand, I kinda ready to ship Emma with anyone, because to me it feels like CapSwan lost their spark a long time ago)

I'd like to remind you, that english is not my native language, so if you see some mistakes, than tell me about it in the comments.

Yours, truly,

Maniac.


The story is old as the world.

It's about a little girl, who meets a mysterious man that gaves her an omnious prophecy about her future. A man that tells her not to pull the Sword from the Stone (she thought it was just a metaphor, back then), but also tells her that she will have a chance to do so.

She doesn't remember him very well, but what she remembers is that this man was the first person who believed – and made her believe herself – that she could have much better fate, than she thought; that she could be more than just another orphan.

Her faith always wavering, but sometimes, sometimes she remembers that man and clings to the hope he gave her.

The story is old as the world.

He could've said that it's as old as him (and he's old, very-very old), but he's no fool, he knows it's been going down long before he was even born. Antagonism, duality, one step from hate to love, and differently charged particles that attracts to each other. Joke of the Universe, some would call it. He'd like to think that it's just as easy as that – bit of physics, bit of chemistry, bit of math and a whole lot of Fate's crappy sense of humor. But he really is no fool, and emotions are much more complicated than that.

He'd seen this would happen centuries before he met her as a little girl, yet he never actually believed it. To love somebody like her, to just love somebody again – that would've never happened, he thought. He realized that he thought wrong the moment he looked her in the eyes and saw the brave and genuine person behind 'em.

He still doesn't wanna believe, still doesn't wanna go down that road, yet he spends the rest 25 years waiting for the day to meet Emma and try those Appollo chocolates himself.

The story is old as the world.

It's about good and evil, darkness and light, Yin and Yang. About a dark sorcerer, fighting on the side of good, and a Savior, consumed by the darkness.

It's about the way he couldn't stop himself from smiling, when they actually met and he really saw her. It's about the way she couldn't stop herself from shivering, when he said "I've been waiting for you. Emma".

It's about stolen glances and short touches, about warmness inside their chests and softness in their eyes at mere thoughts of each other.

The old stories are tend to repeat. And this one is very old.

It's also about jealous pirate, the one Emma learned to love for so long, and petty king, filled with hatred to Merlin and anyone who associates with him. It's about two kind parents, good people, who lost their way one too many times, about bitter witch, who found her way to the light, and a boy, who helped many people find a right way.

And also, it's a story about darkness, threatening to all their lives, and light, shining in their hearts.

And even if it's not new, it is quite a story.

But thing is, those old stories, they never end well.

It could end with soft moans and heated but gentle – loving – kisses, it could end with white picket fence and much deserved by both of them 'happily ever after'.

Instead, it ends when she gets up one night, Dark One in control of her body, to plunge her dagger in his stomach and then chases him through the woods and a good part of a castle to finish him. It ends with a cold "I could deal with a pirate and her family, but you, oh, how she loves you", said in her voice but not by her. It ends with her, waking up to find his breathless body covered in blood.

It ends with her, dropping on her knees to hold him one last time in her arms – but not him, just a lifeless shell – and then standing up with her hair white as snow, lips red as blood, and her soul black as wood.

Stories like that, they never end well.

It happened before and it will happen again.

It will repeat itself: same powerful start, same tragic ending – it is quite a story.

But whatever, - Emma thinks. – The story is old as world.