Emma Swan and the Cursed Dagger
Chapter 2
Nearly eight years had past since Mrs. Blue had taken Emma, Regina and Rumplestiltskin under her care, but Mundi Harborage had barely changed. The sun rose on the same tidy garden surrounding the square building. Its light fell through the windows and bounced off of the glasses neatly arranged on a very long table. Tina Green was placing plates on the gleaming wood, whistling as she went. She still looked as young as she did on that day a wizard had visited her boss to bring new kids. No starting wrinkles, not a single sign she had gotten past her twenties. It was as if she didn't age and never would. The sunlight turned her hair in spun gold and made her green eyes sparkle. She looked an awful lot like a fairy. A cheerful, good fairy.
The girl that was watching her from the doorway, had not been immune to time. She had grown from a small and defiant toddler with angry little fists and piercing eyes into a physically fit girl that was tall for her age and constantly looked like she was contemplating some deep dark truth about life. She was blond too, but a lot paler and colder, as if she was the silver against Tina's gold.
Tina turned around to grab the cutlery from the trolley she'd brought from the kitchen and gasped.
"Emma! You startled me."
The girl chuckled. "Good morning, miss Green."
"Good morning, young lady. You are up very early."
Emma noticed Tina's accent, like she had done for a while now. It wasn't like everyone else's. She had asked the woman about it and Tina had answered she was born in a different country, but wouldn't say more. Especially after Mrs. Blue walked passed and reminded Emma of the number one rule she was expected to live by: Don't ask questions.
"I had a bad dream..."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." Tina smiled at her. "Did you get some sleep, at least?"
Emma nodded. She knew the woman didn't ask her what the dream was about on purpose. Next to questions, dreams were the most hated thing around here. It was silly, really.
"Emma, could you do me a favour?"
She nodded again.
"Would you go and wake up the others? I think I forgot to take the bread out of the oven."
Tina scrambled to get back to the trolley and started pushing it, almost tripping over her own feet.
Emma took a deep breath and grimaced. Determined, she marched up the stairs that lead to the bedrooms. Since waking up the boys was what she disliked the most, she decided she'd start with that. Without hesitation she opened the door and stepped into the darkness. Quickly she made her way over to the windows, where the curtains blocked out the morning light. She bumped into a couple of beds along the way, hurting her toes and knees and provoking some sleepy grunts. Eventually she tugged at the fabric, letting the rays of the sun filter through the dusty glass of the windows. Everywhere around her was sudden movement as the boys duck under their covers or threw pillows in her direction.
"Cut it out, Swan!"
Emma glared. "Shut it, Micheal. Do you always throw stuff at Miss Green?"
"You ain't Miss Green," he muttered, rubbing his eyes, followed by a huge yawn.
"Why did she send you anyway?" Oliver demanded as he clambered out of his bed. He was the oldest boy, nearing fifteen, and very tall and bulky. He looked down at Emma with narrowed eyes that always held a menacing look, even when rimmed with sleep. Everyone feared him. She should fear him too.
"That is none of your business," she retorted, "Breakfast is almost ready."
Next to her, someone whispered her name. It sounded urgent, but she didn't take her eyes off of Oliver's face. She saw his smug grin change into an angry scowl as he stared back at her.
"You just wait," he growled, "Mrs. Blue doesn't have enough eyes to keep a constant watch on all of us today."
With those words, he turned his back on her and went for one of the bathrooms.
"Emma!"
She whirled around. "What, Rumple?"
The boy was staring at her with huge eyes from where he lay half hidden under his covers. His mousy brown hair framed his pale face in thin tangles.
"Are you crazy?" he hissed.
She scoffed. "Me? What on earth are you doing?"
He sat up straight, dangling his legs over the edge of his bed. His cheeks turned scarlet and he stared at his toes, which he wiggled nervously.
"Oh come on, Rumple." She conjured the brightest smile she could muster. "Time for breakfast. If Tina hasn't burned the food, that is." She winked and sighed with relief when he chuckled.
"I will see you downstairs," she said, ignoring Charlie who was singing Emma and Rumple sitting in a tree.
With a final wave, she ran off and went to the room of the girls. Waking them up was a lot easier, although Sandra and Miriam had their usual morning issues. Emma didn't flinch when they started calling her names and grumbled all the way to the bathroom, Sandra still dragging her covers behind her. Some of the girls giggled as they watched the little spectacle.
Regina grinned at Emma, who plopped down on the bed next to her. Regina had grown up quite a bit, just like her. They were actually the exact same height and both were slender. But where Emma was all light and cold, Regina was dark and good-natured. She had thick, wavy hair that was so dark it was almost black and a smile that could convince any adult of anything. Even Mrs. Blue.
"Are you excited for today?" She now used that smile on Emma.
Emma shrugged. "It's a museum..."
"So? I am excited."
"I don't know. Aren't there only stuffy furniture and silly paintings, though?"
Regina shook her head. "I'm sure it will be fun."
"I guess."
"And lots of hallways to run around in to get away from Mrs. Blue."
They shared a conspiratorial smile and their eyes sparkled.
Not much later they were sitting at the huge dining table, separated by a tense Mrs. Blue. That woman never dealt with fieldtrips well and she would take the stress out on everyone, but Emma, Regina and Rumple in particular. The poor boy was taking another scolding, quaking in his seat and staring at his scrambled eggs, fork in hand.
"I still don't know how you got past that door, Rumpelstiltskin, but that doesn't matter. I had locked it for a reason and you had no right to snoop around."
Rumple looked up miserably. "But I..."
"No 'buts'. We value privacy in this house and there are rules."
"I didn't..." His trembling voice trailed off.
"What was that? Look at me when you are talking to me, please."
All colour left the boy's face as he locked eyes with Mrs. Blue.
"I didn't open the door," he said after taking a big gulp of air.
"That is ridiculous. It is impossible to get through a locked door without opening it first. Don't talk nonsense." Mrs. Blue took her glass of orange juice and took a big sip.
A strange sensation went through Emma. Like light shocks of electricity that didn't hurt and made her muscles tremble. It buzzed through her brain and suddenly she knew, without a shred of doubt, that Mrs. Blue was lying. It wasn't the first time it had happened and it happened with anyone. It was just that Mrs. Blue lied more than anyone Emma had ever met.
Rumpelstiltskin sobbed. "I'm sorry."
Tina, who was sitting next to him, shot Emma a warning look even before the girl could feel how her blood had begun to boil. Her cheeks were on fire and she bit her lip so fiercely she tasted metal. Purely on willpower she took out her frustrations on her poor scrambled eggs and toast.
Mrs. Blue was very often unfair towards Rumple. She seemingly had a problem with Emma and Regina too, though Emma was at a loss what the reason could be. Troublemakers like Oliver often got in trouble with the adults too, but not like them. Yet, Regina was a remarkably well-behaved girl and Rumple was too scared to step out of line. And still the director found it necessary to watch the three children like a hawk.
One time Emma had woken up to find some of the girls had cut of her braid with rusty scissors. It had left her with a ragged short haircut, like an unravelling straw hat that was glued to her skull. She had to go to school the next day and had been in a panic the rest of the weekend. Even the creative Tina couldn't help. She had suggested to cut Emma's hair even shorter, which would leave it just a few millimetres in length, but the girl wouldn't hear of it. Emma had resigned to wearing an awful old hat and had gone to bed the night before school, dreading the morning. When she woke up, her hair had practically grown back and was as shiny and healthy as ever. She had been just as confused as everyone else, but Mrs. Blue had treated her horribly for it for weeks on end. What made things even more unfair, was that she was the one who was lying all the time, although it was unclear about what exactly and why.
The director was looking at Emma now, orange juice still in hand.
"Don't play with your food."
Emma glared at her plate and grimaced.
"Now listen, young lady. There is no need to give me that attitude. We are having a fieldtrip today, it is going to be fun."
"It's just a museum..."
"You will like it, I am sure. You have to promise me something. I want you to stay with me, together with Rumple and Regina. Is that clear?"
At this, Emma looked up, eyes big with bewilderment. "What? Why?"
She knew she was in trouble as soon as the words had flown out. Mrs. Blue's eyes darkened and her lips formed a thin line.
Don't ask questions...
"Is that clear?" she repeated sternly.
"Yes," Emma muttered, looking back at her destroyed breakfast.
She was still fuming when she was in the bus to the museum. It was one of three. They travelled along the roads like a yellow snake. This was the only bus that held both boys and girls. Tina had directed Emma to the front seats, together with Rumple and Regina. That way, they were sitting directly behind Mrs. Blue. Tina had given them an apologetic smile as she left to travel with the all-girls-bus. Janitor John was accompanying the boys in the third one.
"This is my fault, isn't it?" asked Rumple, breaking the blond girl out of her reverie.
She felt her anger melt as she met his frightened stare. "Don't worry about it."
"Emma has been in a bad mood all day." Regina laughed. "I think because she didn't sleep well."
"You noticed." Emma didn't smile. She had tried not to wake anyone when the nightmare had jarred her back to reality.
"Yes, I sure did. That was a very bad dream, wasn't it?"
"More like a silly dream. I was in a purple bus that was driving as fast as it could to get away from the shadows that were chasing it. A floating head was yelling at me and then the bus drove straight through a building. It didn't have scratch on it, not the building either."
At that, Mrs. Blue turned around, her eyes piercing the children like cold daggers.
"Busses don't drive through buildings unharmed." She said every single word with great care.
"I know they don't," Emma retorted defiantly, "It was only a dream."
But she wished she hadn't said anything. If there was one thing Mrs. Blue hated even more than her asking questions, it was her talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was in a dream or even a cartoon - she seemed to think she might get dangerous ideas. It was even worse with Rumple. He'd been forbidden to watch cartoons altogether and had long since given up mentioning dreams to others.
It was a rainy Saturday and the museum was crowded with families. Apparently there was an extra exposition that was only temporarily on display. It seemed to attract large crowds. When Mrs. Blue told Emma and the others not to go there because she didn't want them to get lost, Emma's brain buzzed with cold electricity again. She wondered why the director would lie about that. It seemed a sensible claim for an adult.
Despite the constant vigilant watch of Mrs. Blue, Emma had a pretty good time. She admired some stunning paintings of dark stormy seas and an ethereal pirate ship, multicoloured copies of moai - stone statues with tall faces from Hawaii, according to accompanying sign - and a castle of clay glazed donuts. Together with Regina, she giggled about some modern paintings and made fun of abstract sculptures that littered the galleries.
They were just admiring a painting of a lady dressed in white, when two boys next to them enthused about the special exhibit.
"And did you see that armour? It was amazing!" the older one said.
"I really like the sword," the younger one chimed in, "Esselibur is the bestest sword ever!"
Emma looked up. "Excalibur?"
"Yeah! They have all sorts of fairytale stuff there. It is amazing." The oldest boy grinned at her, eyes sparkling.
"All this other stuff is boring," the little one added with a solemn nod.
"Fairytales! That sounds like fun." Regina clasped her hands together excitedly.
"But Mrs. Blue told us not to go there."
Emma glanced over her shoulders at Rumple's words. The director of the orphanage was having a conversation with a man that looked like he worked here. It seemed to be a pretty heated discussion.
"Run for it," Emma whispered, a huge grin spreading across her face.
"But..."
She didn't give the boy a chance to argue. Her legs started moving, her heart started pounding in her ears and an almost hysterical giggle came bubbling up. She could hear Regina behind her, laughing along and making a panicked shriek.
Emma weaved her way through the crowds. Eventually she spotted a sign that indicated the fairytale exhibition. She made a sharp turn, barely avoided a man that jumped aside with an annoyed shout and pressed herself against a wall.
"Emma," Regina gasped as she joined her there, "You are crazy."
"Just a little."
They were joined by Rumple, who was practically hyperventilating.
"We are going to be in so much trouble," he squeaked.
"I just want to see the fairytale stuff," Emma said, still out of breath, "It's not a big deal."
Rumple just stared at her, eyes big and round, his lower lip trembling.
"Come on, Rumple. We will protect you."
"But you are both in trouble too. And you are girls..."
"Hey!"
"Never mind him, Emma." Regina pulled her sleeve. "We have to keep moving."
Together, the three children followed the signs that lead them to the exhibit. As soon as they got to it, their jaws dropped. The entrance to the hall was beautiful. Vines wrapped around fake marble pillars, jotted with pale blue flowers and glittering rhinestones. Artificial butterflies hovered around it.
"Totally worth it," Emma declared.
Regina laughed. "We haven't even been inside yet."
At that, Emma pulled her along, through the fake marble passage and into the hall that glittered from top to bottom. The staff of the museum had formed little niches with the same pillars as they'd used for the entrance. Every niche displayed a different fairytale. Everything was decorated with some extra rhinestones and paper butterflies.
As they walked, Emma and the others passed a sword sticking out of a stone, glass slippers on a pillow and a vanity table with a rose in glass casing. They marvelled at a beautiful ruby red cloak and a detailed wooden puppet that freaked out Rumple.
It was when they reached the cardboard interior of a medieval throne room that Regina suddenly stopped cracking jokes with Emma. She became very pale.
"Are you okay?" Emma asked worriedly.
"I just feel a little funny," she answered, staring at a round mirror, with a frame made of silver spikes that twisted like snakes. A blue face looked back at them from within its depths.
"Don't tell me you are getting scared too."
"No. No, I am fine."
But Emma saw the shiver go through her and her inner lie detector jingled.
"Come on, you. Lets go see the Robin Hood one over there. You always tell me how much you like him."
Regina's cheeks flared. "He happens to be a hero!"
"Yeah, a hero who keeps breaking the law. Don't let Mrs. Blue hear he is your favourite."
The dark-haired girl laughed at this.
"Look, there is the spinning wheel of sleeping beauty," Emma said, pointing, "Do you see that needle? It is monsterly."
Regina giggled. "Monsterly?"
"Shut up," the blonde girl laughed, "You know what I mean."
Then she saw Rumple. He was slowly walking towards the spinning wheel, staring at it without blinking. He almost seemed in a trance. She ran to him and grabbed his thin shoulder.
"What are you doing?"
"I know how to use that," he said slowly without looking away from the device.
"Don't be silly. It is for medieval women. Not boys."
He ignored her.
Emma huffed indignantly. "Rumple..."
Suddenly Regina was beside her. "Emma, we are in trouble."
She spun around. "What? Why?"
"Oliver just saw us and when I looked at him, he ran off. I am sure he is going to fetch Mrs. Blue."
"Oh no," Emma groaned. This was just perfect. Oliver had promised he'd get back at her. She was absolutely sure Regina was right. "He hasn't forgotten about this morning."
Regina waved her hands in an exasperated gesture. In moments like these, she looked a lot older than eleven.
"Did you think he would? Have you been rude to him again?"
"Well, he started it!" She turned back to the spinning wheel. "Rumple, we have to go now!"
The boy was standing next to the thing now, his little hand on the wheel. He turned it slowly and tugged on the thread with his other hand. Emma wanted to say something, but her eye was drawn to that thread. Was wool supposed to glimmer like that?
She heard Regina gasp. "Is that...?"
Emma nodded slowly. "Gold..."
"Come down from there this instant, Rumpelstiltskin!"
The sharp voice of Mrs. Blue made Emma jump. Rumple hurried away from the spinning wheel, tripping over his own feet and looking like all blood had left him. He was clutching three straws of shining gold in his fist.
Mrs. Blue looked like she might explode. She grabbed Rumple's wrist. Emma could see it hurt him, but was afraid to say something. She'd never seen the woman so angry. Not even when Emma had taken a raw egg from the fridge and gave a boiled one to her in the same motion. Mrs. Blue had grounded her for two weeks, no matter how often she'd expressed her confusion. Surely she'd just made a mistake and taken out an already boiled egg instead.
"Tina, get rid of this," Mrs. Blue barked now, still holding on to Rumple's wrist tightly. The boy sobbed softly and Tina looked at him with sympathy as she took the golden threads.
"Hurry, Green!"
Tina looked insecure for a moment, then hurried off.
Mrs. Blue turned on the two girls. "Miss Swan. Miss Mills. Come with me, please."
Her words were like shards of ice. Emma's insides burned with the injustice. They had just run off. It's not like they had committed a crime. They'd even stayed inside the museum. There was staff everywhere. She stomped after the woman who dragged poor Rumple with her, sulking all the way.
Emma lay in bed much later that day, staring at the ceiling. She didn't know what time it was and wasn't really sure she cared. She couldn't sleep. Her mind was still reeling from what had happened today. She could have sworn there had been plain wool on the spinning wheel. Had the golden threads always been there?
Mrs. Blue didn't seem to mind that much. She was red with rage by the time they'd gotten back to the orphanage. She had sent Rumple up without dinner. The boy was grounded until the start of next school year. So were Emma and Regina. When Emma had asked why, Mrs. Blue had told her they'd worried her and that she'd been scared. Both true. But when Emma had asked why she was so upset with Rumple, the answer had made her inner lie detector go off again.
That was even more confusing. "He could have hurt himself" seemed a reasonable enough argument. Why was it a lie?
Someone sat down on her bed. Emma snapped out of her pondering and saw Tina smiling at her. There was something sad about her.
"Are you alright, Miss Green?"
Her smile widened. "I came to ask you, Emma. Are you alright?"
"I'll be fine."
Emma would always be fine. She had been for as long as she could remember. The constant lies and crazy discipline from Mrs. Blue, the strained relationships with her "siblings", the fact she had no real family. None of it kept Emma Swan from being fine.
"I'm happy to hear it." Tina got up and left.
Emma was not happy. Not really... She was just fine...