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Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT.
Neverland.
They had made it.
With the ship docked and the land within their grasp, they were that much closer to finding Henry.
Finally.
Coming above deck, Emma pulled her hair back into a low ponytail; securing it tightly with a thin leather strap she had found lying around in the crew's quarters. Her eyes scanning the area before her, impatiently she sought the others out. She was more than a little anxious to begin their search for her kid—something she was sure the rest of them wouldn't fault her for, if anything she was fairly certain they were all just as eager as she was to finally make some significant progress.
Her thoughts drifting aimlessly as the cool evening breeze hit her skin, she braced herself when a series of rough waves angrily lapped at the sides of the ship, causing her hands to shoot out in front of her as her footing slipped slightly. Steadying herself, she waited for the rocking to subside and inhaling deeply, gathered her bearings before continuing on—the thick smell of salt in the air never ceasing to take her by surprise. Her stride brisk, her hands clenched into tight fists, adrenaline raced through her body fast as she prepared herself to finally get off the Jolly Roger—her need to be as far away from the pirate ship as possible something she blamed solely on her desire to find her son, pushing away thoughts of Hook as they stubbornly tried to creep into her mind.
Henry.
Neverland.
Redirecting her thoughts, she glanced up at the lush land that sprawled out before her, a sliver of fear crawling up her spine as warnings of its dark beauty once again echoed in her brain—the ominous words hard to believe as she took in the sight of its nearly breathtaking scenery. It was all greens and blues, with shades of purple, orange, and pink scattered throughout it—the vibrant colors tempting one to come closer and explore its hidden wonders.
"You forgot beautiful."
Hook's words from the night before rang true in her head as her eyes continued to absorb the sight before her—a deep almost shocking yearning settling low inside of her as she continued to stare in awe. Silently debating on whether or not to head towards the back of the ship, curious where everyone was, she paused when she heard soft voices carrying over the gentle wind and tearing her gaze away from the landscape, her eyes landed near the helm. More than slightly surprised by what she saw, she felt a knot begin to grow inside her stomach as she took in the sight of her parents, Regina, Gold, and Hook; their faces grim, everyone's attention was focused on the Captain who stood at the wheel—speaking carefully in a soft but firm tone. Picking up her pace, Emma strained her ears as she approached them, struggling to hear what was being said to the group—wondering what possibly could have captured their unwavering and complete attention.
"Keep in mind the more exotic and beautiful something looks the more likely it is that it's dangerous…deadly even…"
Making her way towards them, she pushed past Gold and her mother without thought, watching as Hook faltered slightly, his voice trailing off as his burning gaze met hers without hesitation. Almost unthinkingly she raised a stiff hand to her throat, her fingers dusting the tiny mark he had left there when he had nicked her during their swordfight. And as images of their battle, their screaming words and heated revelations, flashed in front of her fast, she closed her eyes, breathing in deeply while breaking away from his heated stare.
There was a brief moment of heavy and telling silence before he continued once again. "But there's also much that the land has to offer."
Feeling steadier, she opened her eyes, glancing around at the faces of those gathered—their expressions rapt with focus as they drank the pirate's dire words in.
"There was a time, long ago when Neverland wasn't so dark. For nearly every danger that hides within its shadows there is a remedy for its evil…one just has to know where to look."
He paused then, whether it was because he was simply done speaking or because he was letting the information sink in she was uncertain, but unwilling to wait patiently for him to continue, Emma stepped forward suddenly. "That's where you come in." she said, merely raising a brow when he gave her a slow and lazy look, his expression impassive, his attention once again focused solely on her. "That's where you come in." she repeated softly, her tone unabashedly earnest. "Everything that's dangerous, everything that's safe…you'll show us."
He waited a heartbeat or two, his lips twitching slightly into a humorless and faintly dark smirk, "I'll do what I can princess."
His new nickname for her spoken in a cool and even tone, followed by the cold and appraising stare he shot her, had her bristling slightly. But unwilling to allow him to see her falter, she merely crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her gaze as she refused to break away from his all too knowing eyes. "You'll have to do better than that Captain...we're—we're counting on you."
I'm counting on you.
She didn't say it, she didn't have to—it was there in the desperation that lurked in her voice, it was in the intensity of her stare. She needed him dammit. It wasn't something she could admit to freely; it wasn't something she could bear to say out loud.
But regardless of how she phrased the words, what she said and what she didn't say, it didn't change the fact that she needed him.
Somehow, someway, he had become her hope.
It was more than a little disturbing.
"We need you to be more than our guide, we need you to teach us everything you know about Neverland…show us, tell us...everything."
She would beg if she had to. After their swordfight, after Neverland had come into view, she had realized just how desperate she was to get her son back.
She'd do anything.
Holding her stare for a moment, he cocked his head to the side before nodding once—something about the way he looked at her telling her just how clearly he was able to read her. "As you wish." He murmured softly. And glancing out over the water, his eyes fell on the land they spoke of. He considered it a long moment before looking back at them, a dark resolve glimmering in his blue gaze. "The Piccaninny tribe knows Neverland better than even myself. They have eyes and ears all over its hills, deep within its forests, and on the edges of its seas. If Henry is here they'll know about it. My suggestion is that we seek them out first."
"And what will our reception be? Is the tribe friendly and welcoming or is it as dangerous and deadly as everything else you have so graciously warned us of."
The question came from Regina, her cool and slightly calculating voice holding heavy amounts of both inquiry and sarcasm laced within it.
"Well, I suppose we shall see when we seek them out tomorrow your majesty."
His equally cool answer caught Emma's interest, and whipping her head in his direction she arched an eyebrow. "Tomorrow?" her eyes drifted from Hook to Regina, noticing how both went slightly rigid with her softly spoken question. And seeing their reactions, quickly, nearly frantically, she sought her parents out, attempting to push away the sick feeling that was washing over her fast. "Tomorrow?"
The beginnings of hysteria slowly sneaking into her tone, she watched as David stepped forward hesitantly. His expression tight with concern, he nodded at her apologetically before speaking carefully in a calm and composed voice. "We thought it would be best if we start fresh tomorrow. Night's almost here and based off what we've heard it would be smart to get some decent sleep before making our move early in the morning."
Tomorrow.
Morning.
Tomorrow.
Henry.
Tomorrow.
No.
"No!" she sputtered the word, shaking her head fiercely, unwilling to even think about considering what he was saying. "We leave tonight."
Watching as Hook stepped back from the group, clearly willing to just go ahead and allow them to argue it out between themselves, she narrowed her eyes as he looked away from her, a slice of betrayal cutting her fast. For reasons unknown to her she had unthinkingly expected him to back her up, a small part of her automatically assuming he would without question take her side—a revelation that had a voice in her head whispering questions she was more than a little reluctant to think about. Bringing her focus back to her parents she looked at her mother, her eyes frantically holding and searching hers for answers. But before she could open her mouth to plead her case Mary Margaret beat her to it, speaking fast, her voice firm and clear.
"Emma we're all tired…we're drained. While you were below deck we decided that waiting another day was the right thing to do…for everyone's safety." pausing she stepped forward, hurt flashing across her features as Emma took a step back. "We're trying to do what's best for everyone. I know how hard this must be for you, I know how desperate you feel but it's the right decision."
"No. No it's not. Just—no! This is insane. We're not waiting another day! We can't!"
Her whole body was shaking, vibrating with anger and disbelief as she stared at the group of people gathered before her. She couldn't believe what she was hearing; she couldn't believe what they were asking of her…she couldn't stand to look at any of them. Staring down at the wooden planks of the ship, she swore under her breath—the curse violent and livid. A sinking feeling was beginning to weigh heavily in her gut as her mind frantically tried to wrap itself around what they had suggested, her heart breaking slowly as thoughts of Henry lost somewhere in the land that lay before her began to torment her once again.
"Emma." her mother started carefully, "the sun will be setting soon. We'll wash up, gather some supplies and head out at first light tomorrow…based off Gold's knowledge and Hook's experiences…"
"Them?" she laughed, her brows rising high on her forehead as she whipped her gaze back to Mary Margaret and shooting her a withering glare, she shook her head as a humorless smile spread across her lips. "Seriously? We're going to base everything off of what a revenge-minded pirate and Rumpelstiltskin think?"
She didn't even bother to glance at the pair, knowing Hook's unimpressed expression and Gold's dark and flat look would only infuriate her further.
"Emma." Her mother's soft and pained voice had her clenching her jaw tightly, her lips trembling ever so slightly.
With angry tears pricking at her eyes, she turned from the group—the feeling of hope being so tauntingly dangled in front of her as they had docked the ship, only to be cruelly ripped away, nearly too much to handle. Glancing out at the thriving green hills of Neverland, watching as a handful of colorful and screeching birds dashed across the flawlessly clear blue sky, she bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, darting her tongue out to catch the light trickle of blood she had unintentionally drawn. And concentrating on the metallic taste, she looked back at the group—their expressions ranged from understanding, wariness, sorrow, anger, and compassion, none of them mirroring the panic and betrayal she felt coursing through her fast as reality slowly set in.
Drawing her attention to Regina, she held her eye, "You—you can't agree with this." she spoke in a low voice, her tone pleadingly imploring her with each softly spoken word—but desperate for an ally, she paid no mind to how weak she sounded, needing for someone, anyone to see reason. "He's out there, terrified and alone. You can't agree with this."
Looking past Emma's shoulder to the land that towered behind her, Regina smiled sadly, her eyes far away. "We need to gather some supplies…nearly everything that lurks in Neverland's forest is capable of killing you if you don't have the right antidote. Hook knows which plants we need if and when we run into a situation where we'll need them. We can't be distracted with worrying about our own safety while trying to find Henry." She brought her attention back to Emma, her dark gaze suddenly fierce. "We need to make sure we're able to face whatever awaits us Miss Swan. It would be unwise to rush into unknown terrain only to get ourselves killed because of poor planning. How would that benefit Henry? We need to prepare ourselves, if that means waiting another night to ensure everything is done right, then I'm willing to do that." Slowly, gradually, her expression softened somewhat; her eyes shining with unshed tears. "The globe isn't working properly. The magic here is throwing it off. Mr. Gold and myself are still trying to figure out why that is. So right now we're left without anything but a one-handed pirate to guide us to Henry. The idea of setting out with only a couple of hours of daylight left is ridiculous and foolish. The ship's been cloaked…if our magic holds then we're somewhat safe for another night. I'm sorry but—"
Emma raised a hand cutting her off, "Bullshit," ignoring the former mayor's narrowed gaze she shook her head. "Everything you said is complete bullshit and you know it. Resting and planning is all well and good for us…but while we're all nice and warm and safe for one more night what about Henry?" she paused letting the words sink it. "Henry's not safe…"
"Emma you don't know that." It was David who spoke up, his voice still calm, his determined and unwavering eyes sought hers.
"The hell I don't!" She turned her attention on him, her eyes flashing and her body tensing. "The minute they took him he was put in danger. And now he's here in this…this place…this death-trap…and I'm expected to wait one more night before we even try to find him! Because what? You people want to go gather fruit and special weeds with healing powers?" She shrugged her shoulders helplessly; and raising a shaky hand to her head, she ran her trembling fingers through her tangled hair. "I can't. I can't wait."
"That's not your decision to make Miss Swan."
Whipping her gaze towards Gold, she clenched her jaw as her livid stare fell on him—he was standing further away from the rest of the group his expression emotionless and his eyes unyielding. "You're a rash and passionate woman when it comes to the people you love Miss Swan, while your suggestions are listened to, appreciated even, we will not center our entire trip around your impulses."
Not caring for his tone, she went to take a step towards him, dimly noting how both David and Hook tensed with the action. "He's my son."
"Which is exactly why you need to let the rest of us help you. Like I alluded to before, you're impulsive…while you may truly have your son's best interests at heart, it will do us and him no good to die before we can save him."
"You can't be killed." She whispered quietly, as if it made a difference.
"Neverland's magic is different than any world I've ever known…I haven't a clue what can and cannot happen here…and I'm certainly not willing to find out. I've made many mistakes in my life. After Baelfire's death…letting my grandson die…" he stopped, blinking somewhat rapidly before taking a slow step forward, leaning heavily on his cane. "I'm not going to let that happen. I promised I'd help you…we all did. But you must listen to reason...in order for us to help you have to let us."
Swallowing thickly, she took one step back and then another, shaking her head fast as a trembling frown tugged at her lips. "This is crap." She said softly, her gaze flitting to each one of them, fiercely and silently pleading with them one last time.
Henry.
As an image of her kid's innocent face danced in front of her tauntingly, his lopsided smile haunting her, she felt a slight dampness in her eyes and a deep burning in her throat, and biting her lip she blew out a shaky breath, one that threatened to turn into an anguished sob. Briefly she considered fighting them, for a moment she debated on screaming at them, threatening them…anything. But just as she was welcoming the thought, quite suddenly she found herself caught in Hook's unyielding stare—his knowing and understanding eyes were telling her more than a few simply said words and abruptly spoken suggestions had so effortlessly failed in doing.
Silently, calmly, he was imploring her to heed the others advice.
Defiantly she held his stare, the sight of him wavering in front of her as her vision glimmered with unshed tears. Until finally, unable to stand the deafening silence that had fallen over the ship any longer, defeated, she turned from them. And without another word she walked away, wiping furiously at the single tear…the only tear…that managed to escape her eye, only dully noting with a deep frown when the murmured conversation picked up behind her once again.
One more day...
They were going to wait one more day before searching for him.
One more fucking day.
She felt sick.
Helpless.
Useless.
Tired.
Trapped.
Standing on the beach, Emma stared out at the water, watching as the waves rolled in; their foamy white peaks angry and unforgiving as they violently crashed to the sandy shore. While they had been out at sea the water had been eerily calm and nearly motionless but the minute they had docked and come ashore something had shifted in the air—the sea had grown rougher, the sky had darkened ever so slightly.
It was like their presence was known and the land was slowly rejecting them.
It was a thought that had worry slinking down her spine as fear coiled tight in her gut.
"Emma? "
Turning from the water, she watched as Mary Margaret tentatively made her way towards her—her expression wary, her eyes glimmering with sadness. For a moment, she felt a pang of regret slice through her fast; she knew her behavior the past forty-eight hours or so had been tiring, her words cutting.
"Are you ready? Hook seems pretty familiar with this area. He and David did some quick scouting while gathering some fruit and plants, they said there's a large and deep freshwater stream just beyond those trees. It appears safe. Regina, you, and myself will wash up first while David, Hook, and Gold stand watch around the perimeter. When we're done, we'll switch." Biting her lip, she took a step closer, "does that sound okay?"
Sighing softly, Emma nodded her head—regardless of how she felt about their decision to wait another day, reluctantly she had to admit bathing had never sounded so good. Her hair was a tangled mess, her body felt sticky and raw—the salt from the spray of the sea, coating her skin.
Drawing her attention to a pile of what appeared to be linens that Mary Margaret held in her arms, she raised a brow. "What's that?"
"Just some things to wash up and dry off with. Bar soap…" she paused, smirking slightly, "it smells like lavender…it's kind of nice." Handing over the items, she watched Emma carefully as she did. "There's also some clean clothes too…Hook found some shirts and a few pairs of pants. They seem smaller." She smiled softly. "perhaps a cabin boys…I thought maybe I could wash our clothes and we could wear these for the time being." offering another smile, she gave a little shrug. "It'll be nice to wear something clean."
Glancing down Emma raised a brow at the cream-colored blouse and dark brown trousers she had been given, running her fingers over them carefully, tracing tiny patterns into the fabric, she sighed softly. "Sure."
"You don't have to wear them. I just thought, I mean…"
"Thank you."
Trailing off, Mary Margaret paused, studying her for a moment before her eyes lightened a bit, her expression relaxing considerably. "You're welcome. The others are waiting…are you ready?"
Nodding Emma moved away from the water and falling into step alongside Mary Margaret, they headed towards where everyone had gathered at the edge of the forest waiting for them, her mind wandering darkly as they walked in silence.
"He's trying you know."
Glancing over at her mother, Emma shot her a curious look, "Who?"
"Hook. He's trying. I really believe he is."
Considering her words, she tried to keep her expression neutral, even as her mind raced with the odd and perplexing statement. "That's a pretty fast change of heart…even for you. I thought you didn't trust him."
Mary Margaret shook her head, her eyes drifting to where Regina, Gold, Hook, and David stood and waving them ahead, she watched as they slowly began their trek into the woods before turning her attention back to Emma. "I'm not saying I completely trust him…but right now…I think he seems genuine. Something's changed in him. There's something different—there's a look in his eyes…something that wasn't there before."
Shifting the linens and clothes in her hands, Emma carefully stepped over a root, remembering the advice about the strange and exotic looking plants that sprouted in abundance throughout the forest. And even though the path they were taking had been deemed safe, she couldn't help but walk with extra caution, her gaze flitting over the brightly colored flowers that lined their trail. "Oh really and what exactly do you see in his eyes now?"
"Hope."
A slight shudder rippled through her body at the simply said word. Something in her stomach leapt as her heart stopped for a moment or two before beating rapidly. Somewhat alarmed by her body's reaction, she swallowed over her suddenly narrowed throat, and picking up her pace, she shook her head quickly. "Yeah well he's still a pirate."
"You're awfully hard on him."
"And maybe you're being too soft."
"He came back for us Emma."
"Yeah after first leaving us to die."
As they moved into the clearing, Mary Margaret stopped, her eyes scanning the area in front of her. Following her gaze, Emma took in the sight of the secluded alcove—the trees that surrounded the banks of the large stream were towering and leafy green; their branches hanging low, some were covered with vines bursting with colorful flowers of every shade of pink, orange, and red imaginable. Their silky petals nearly tempted one to reach out and touch them, causing Emma to pause, and squinting, she considered them more carefully—Hook's warning about Neverland's deadly beauty still ringing in her ears.
The rocky shore gave way to the calmly flowing clear water, a massive boulder stood proudly in the middle of the stream, the dark rock gleaming and nearly sparkling in the fading sun as water flowed gently around it—the stream opening up even wider on the other side. A single white bird with a bright red beak sat on top of it unmoving; it's eyes seemingly following the small group appraised the trespassers carefully, causing a shiver of unease to ripple through her fast. Watching as Regina stood at the edge of the water, looking at it somewhat disdainfully, Emma noted when David, Hook and Gold moved away, giving them their privacy so that they could bathe somewhat freely.
"But he didn't."
"What?"
Walking away from her and towards the water, Emma just barely heard Mary Margaret's words as she pulled up just short of the stream.
"He didn't end up leaving us to die…he came back. That has to count for something." Glancing back at her, her blue eyes unreadable, she pursed her lips slightly, her gaze searching Emma's face before offering a small somewhat sad smile. "You have ten minutes—stay on this side of the boulder, Hook says if you pass it the stream begins to open up. Apparently it can be more dangerous. Just—just don't pass it." And with those words she whipped her shirt over her head without preamble, toeing off her shoes and pants quickly before stepping into the water.
Rolling her eyes, Emma slowly moved in the opposite direction; she felt more than a little uncomfortable knowing she had to bathe with a small audience nearby. But realizing that both Mary Margaret and Regina were intent on getting themselves clean, their attention elsewhere, she shrugged and moved further down the bank to give herself some much needed privacy, her eyes and ears taking in the sights and sounds of the exotic world around her.
She had never seen so much color, so much vibrant growth, part of her longed to disappear into it—an odd thought that was both shocking and agreeing.
When she felt properly secluded, quickly she peeled off her boots and clothes and grabbing the bar of soap her mother had given her, moved into the stream, shuddering when the cool water hit her salt coated skin—the gentle waves lapping around her soothingly, beckoning her further in. Wading deeper, she let out a small somewhat contented sigh and sinking down until the water reached her neck, she inhaled a deep breath before dipping her head under.
Gradually everything around her disappeared into nothing.
Closing her eyes for a moment she felt her body relax, her mind drifting as her tense muscles eventually began to loosen, the shock and grief of the past couple of days leaving her momentarily as she sunk further beneath the surface. Finally, feeling somewhat at ease, she opened her eyes, blinking once and then twice. Her gaze adjusting, she noted with some awe how clear the water around her was. Watching as her hair billowed out in front of her, the blonde strands floating softly in gentle waves, her attention drifted, landing on a small yellow fish as it swam past her fast, disappearing behind some bright and friendly looking purple plant.
Slowly she began to swim.
Moving deeper into the stream she glided through the water, feeling weightless, almost free. Part of her wanted to stay under there forever, part of her wished she could hide beneath the surface and will the rest of the world to go away as she just continued to float and swim, forgetting every terrible thing that had ever happened to her. And as the somewhat alarming yearning slowly consumed her, somewhere off in the distance she heard a soft sound, something low and lilting.
A song.
The gentle tune soothed her, calming her somewhat frazzled nerves. And as she strained to hear more, she felt a sudden burning sensation in her lungs, her brain warning she needed to come up for air, even as small voice whispered for her to stay. Finally, unable to take the pressure in her chest, she pushed upwards and resurfaced, gasping softly as she greedily gulped in the fresh and warm air. Glancing around her, she scanned the area for the source of the music, frowning when she heard nothing, only the soft trickle of the water and the gentle sounds of the forest around her drifting to her ears.
She was losing it.
Letting her gaze fall back on the streambank, she noted with some surprise that she had drifted farther away from the group than she had intended, coming up just short of the boulder. Scanning the area again, she saw that Regina and Mary Margaret were already out of the water, Regina staring off into the distance as she dressed herself quickly while her mother washed and rinsed a pile of clothes at her side.
On a sigh, she remembered the soap in her hand and tilting her head back, she began to lather her hair, humming in appreciation as the soft scent of lavender invaded her nose—the tightness in her neck beginning to fade as she soaped up the rest of her tired body, her movements becoming quicker as she considered how long she had been in the water. And shrugging off the fact that she had lost track of time, with a relaxed sigh, and a stretch of her muscles, she took another deep breath before disappearing beneath the surface once again.
Almost immediately she heard the song.
It was beautiful.
There were no words.
It was just a simple melody.
And it called to her.
Dimly she heard a voice in her head, pushing for her to turn around, to resurface, warning her something wasn't right. But a louder, clearer, more determined voice urged her to find the source—something pushing her forward as she moved through the water once again. And as she swam, the sound grew louder, the music sweeter, beckoning her closer, tempting her deeper and further into the stream. Soon her chest began to burn again, the voice in her head once again warning her she needed air—the plea barely audible above the lovely notes of the song she was suddenly so intent on following.
She needed to hear more.
It was heartbreaking.
It was beautiful.
Even without words, it spoke of loyalty and redemption, betrayal and sacrifice.
Love.
Her gaze searching, her ears seeking, she stubbornly ignored her body as it protested its lack of oxygen—she had to find the source of the music.
She wanted more…she craved it, desired it…
Needed it.
And then, suddenly through the spellbinding melody she heard her name—whispered softly, encouragingly.
Emma.
Her head began to feel light, her vision started to waver. But she paid it no mind; because of the song…the song was so beautiful…so very heartbreakingly beautiful. It spoke to her; it was in her head, whispering to her, promising to make it all go away—her sadness, her grief, her loneliness—the hypnotizing notes lured her deeper, summoning her further.
Emma.
She needed to find where it was coming from. If she could find it, grasp it—everything that hurt would disappear. And she was so sick of being in pain, of constantly being alone, of continually losing those she loved.
Emma.
She just wanted so badly to float away, to drift off with the music, to allow it to wrap itself around her. It would take care of her; she wouldn't have to worry anymore—it would all be fine, her worries would go away.
It would all go away.
Emma.
And stretching out her hands, she reached towards the sound, everything around her beginning to go black as a slight buzzing sounded in her ears. And as she allowed the song to pull her deeper, dimly she felt a gentle tugging pull at her outstretched hands as a dull weight landed heavily on her chest. Vaguely she heard a voice in her head scream something at her—something about danger and moving.
But the song…the song was getting quieter, softer.
She was losing it…losing the perfect and haunting melody.
Emma.
Her body began to sink, something strong pulled her deeper, her mind was fading, everything was going black and she was getting tired, so very, very tired.
The music was slowly vanishing, everything around her disappearing.
Swan!
Suddenly it was all taken from her—the song, the comfort, the blackness—it all went away, ripped from her cruelly. The water around her moved as something strong grasped her around the waist—a screeching and strangled noise filled her ears as she was yanked hard from her blissful fog and pulled to the surface fast.
"Get the bloody hell away from her!"
She heard a voice, mixed with both fear and anger shout the demand, the bellowing words carrying above the sudden anguished shrieking that was echoing around her in loud and pulsing waves. At the sound, almost dazedly she opened her eyes, watching as something violently flailed before her, the water splashing and whipping her face with the harsh and forceful thrashing. Slowly her hazy gaze focused on the movement, her glassy stare falling on the stunningly pale face of a creature so unearthly that her heart stopped beating for a moment as its eyes landed on her angrily, the green orbs shocking against its pale nearly translucent skin. Shrieking at her, it showed her a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth, the action marring its beauty, before hissing a threatening warning and diving back into the stream; disappearing beneath the water, its lithe form rippled under the surface, swimming away from her fast—its speed both impressive and shocking.
Gasping for breath, Emma continued to watch the creature swim out of sight, sputtering as she belatedly sucked in a deep breath—nearly choking as her angry lungs expanded painfully. Greedily and hungrily they accepted the air they had lacked while beneath the surface, her throat feeling tight as she wheezed and coughed in sputtering fits.
"Emma? Can you hear me?
The voice spoke low in her ear and as the hold around her waist tightened, she noticed with some vague sense of awareness that she was hurriedly being pulled from the water. Her body was dragged to the banks of the stream and dumped unceremoniously onto the soft and mossy grass. Rolling her head back, she stared up at the cloudless sky, shaded only by the towering trees that hovered over her, and sucking in another deep breath, she shivered a bit as the cool air hit her wet and naked skin.
"Emma? Look at me. Are you alright lass…can you talk?"
She felt a warm presence next to her, something was draped over her body and turning her head to the side, dimly she noted that she must have drifted far beyond the boulder to where the stream had opened up—the secluded sanctuary she'd been bathing in nearly out of sight. Coughing again, she lifted her eyes to the figure that was kneeling next to her as, slow realization dawning on her as her muddled brain gradually began to clear.
"Good gods Swan say something."
The lilting voice carried a mixture of exasperation and worry.
It took her only a moment to place the familiar tone.
Hook.
Glancing up, she blinked rapidly, hazily watching as his face swam into focus. He was staring down at her hard, his eyes swirling with something she couldn't quite make out, a tight frown tugging at his dark features.
He had saved her.
Why had he saved her?
"What—what the hell was that?" she rasped, her voice raw, her body heavy and exhausted.
Watching as his face came more clearly into view—deep lines of worry etched into his forehead, his blue eyes even brighter against his damp skin and wet hair—her heart began to beat fast, as her body shook with what she told herself was nothing more than a chill.
"A Naiad …water nymph…her song had lured you beneath the surface." He paused, considering her for a moment. "This land preys on the hopeless Emma...you've made yourself an easy target."
"Water nymph..." she trailed off in a disbelieving laugh. Ignoring the implications of his statement, her chest heaved somewhat heavily as she stared up at the sky for a moment or two, and attempting to grasp what exactly had nearly happened to her, she closed her eyes tight before looking back up at him. "What the hell was its problem?"
A grim smile touched Hook's lips as he glanced at the stream, his gaze distant, a touch of sadness lurked in his tone, "I haven't the faintest idea. They used to be fairly peaceful creatures, helpful even…" pausing he sighed, the sound wistful. "but I suppose that was some time ago." His attention shifting, he stared down at her unblinkingly, something odd flashing in his eyes as his gaze roamed over her freely. "Best cover-up princess, here comes the cavalry. "
At his words Emma raised her head from the grass and briefly looked down at her body. Save for the sopping wet shirt that was carelessly draped over her middle, just barely covering her breasts, she was completely exposed. Her cheeks flaming, she swallowed over the rising lump in her throat, and repositioned the shirt so that it covered her a bit more thoroughly before glancing back up at him—her eyes widening considerably as she allowed herself to fully take in the sight of him.
He was naked from the waist up.
He had given her his shirt.
Watching as something that closely resembled amusement crept into his gaze as her eyes met his, she narrowed her brows and shaking her head as confusion whirled in her brain, she moved her hands, almost protectively holding his shirt closer to her trembling body.
"You…um…ahh..."
Almost as if hearing the bewilderment in her tone, a hint of a smile crossed his features as he continued to stare at her with soft unashamed humor. "Always a gentleman love."
"Emma!"
It was David's voice who drew her attention away, worry and fear heavily doused in his tone.
Turning her gaze from the bare-chested pirate who was still kneeling over her, she closed her eyes before taking in a deep breath, ignoring her fathers furious accusations as he came across the poorly concealed duo. And unable to suppress a wince when she heard Mary Margaret's soft gasp, she swore softly under her breath, pretending not to hear the low and hypnotizing chuckle that sounded next to her as David questioned Hook in a furious and icy tone.
Instead of opening her eyes, instead of attempting to smooth things over, instead of offering her help and coming to the defense of the man who had saved her, she merely laid unmoving where she was. And as exhaustion swept over her fast, once again she silently willed everything away—violently and somewhat unfairly cursing the darkly enchanted world and the infuriating pirate who had brought her to the Godforsaken land to the farthest and hottest corners of hell.
I promise Emma will warm up soon...
Maybe.
Review? PLEASE? I'll give you chocolate ice cream with sprinkles and whipped cream on it—OR maybe I'll give you more naked Emma and shirtless Hook. I mean whatevs right?
