Chapter title totally inspired by The Queen song of the same name.


"Emma, would you sit, please? If only for a moment?"

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes Emma half heeded her mother's request by coming to a stop at the desk she had been pacing in front of and that her mother was sitting behind. The constant need to move was a new habit, one that kept the shake of her hand at bay and had the added advantage of keeping her from finally talking to Snow. Her guilt at avoiding one of few people she loved more than anything was only offset by her fear of once more growing close to her mother and then losing her all over again.

It had only been a week since they had sailed away from Snow's island prison. Emma felt as if she had used every excuse, from dealing with the single surviving guard in the brig to writing mundane entries in the Captain's log, in a vain attempt to escape the inevitable. She hadn't had to come up with so many different reasons to avoid a conversation since Red had somehow smelled that she had been in bed with a man decidedly not sleeping when she was seventeen. As embarrassing as the ensuing lecture about propriety and caution had been she would have sat through ten more just like it rather than explain exactly the type of woman her mother's darling princess had grown up to be.

Emma had given Snow the captain's cabin and allowed her to move freely about the ship, giving her mother the opportunity to see what she had honed over their separation. Gone were the refined manners, the docile tone of voice, the dignified poise and in their place were stern commands to be followed, orders and praise equally barked out over the sound of waves and wind, and stalking from stem to stern with sturdy steps and working just as hard as the crew beneath her in rank. All of that she was proud of, it was the life she had made for herself from the ashes of her old one, and yet it was just the varnished facade of the life she had truly been leading. The one where revenge was her sole motivation and only Red and Pinocchio had kept her from blackening her heart.

When she had escaped from what she believed to be Regina she had just been beginning to understand the ramifications of being the future Queen of Misthaven would have been on her life. Her lessons in arithmetic had slowly changed from mere numbers to problems involving crop yields and populations shifts, the ones in geography became studies of various kingdom's resources and accessibility around or through various natural obstacles, and history had shifted from general knowledge of the realm's past to pointed lessons on diplomacy between their allies and the fragile truce with their enemies. She had no longer been allowed to travel alone or with only Pinocchio as her companion, instead ordered to take no less than three guards with her at all times and sternly warned against trying to leave them behind. Then there were the suitors: flattering poetic letters sent with lavish gifts from far away princes, the sons of lords and dukes sent from all corners of their kingdom under the guise of paying their family's respects to their rulers, and even a few older lords and dukes themselves making a play for power and for a young, attractive wife at the same time. It had all rankled at her, chains that she hadn't agreed to binding her, and she had foolishly wished at the time that she could be free of it all.

When she was unexpectedly forced into that freedom it was nothing like the fantasies she'd dreamed up as one tutor or another droned on. She had been running for her life, hiding in caves and under thick bushes with Red and Pinocchio, all while soldiers tore apart villages and burned down farms looking for her. The first stirrings of vengeance had come as she had stood over a broken doll in the middle of a pothole ridden dirt road leading away from yet another destroyed village. The people had been in hiding, they could sense them on the edges of the woods and behind twitching curtains, and all Emma could do was stare at the wooden doll, its arm missing and a vicious crack through its roughly carved face. It was then that she vowed to make Regina pay and not with the lenient punishments her parents had given before.

Emma had carried that vow with her as she went from innocent girl to a hardened woman and sloughed off her princess sensibilities to embrace the pirate. It was the promise she made before she went to sleep at night after successful pillages and when she woke up to news of Misthaven ships on the horizon. She never harmed the sailors she fought against, knowing that they're loyalty was keeping them and their families alive. Instead she hoarded every tale of injustice that reached her ears like the gold she stole pushing them into a place that only she had access to. For ten years she had kept her righteous fury burning, stoking the fire as more and more reports reached her of Misthaven's suffering and Regina's cruelty, waiting for the opportune moment to strike when Killian had sailed self righteously into her life.

She had wanted to hate him with every fiber of her being when she had first laid eyes on him. He had, however, forced her to reevaluate everything she thought she believed in, including herself. It was as she was falling in love with him that she began to believe that not only could she regain her kingdom but could do so without becoming something she loathed in the process. Killian had gone on to prove it to her after being dealt his own blows by Zelena's hand and continuing to be a good man even as he was preparing for a war that wasn't his to wage.

Somehow she couldn't find the words to explain that it all shaped her into the woman she was, practically a stranger, when she was standing in front of her mother fidgeting like she did every time Snow was preparing to scold her about her unroyal-like behavior.

"I'm not the daughter you raised," Emma blurted out.

Snow winced and Emma mirrored her, mentally berating herself for saying the one thing that could drive them further apart.

"I know that," Snow said softly, looking down at her hands.

"I mean, I am but not?" Emma winced again. She resumed pacing, "It's been a long time and I've done things, good and bad, but not exactly what a future queen would do. Red did her best but we were on the run and there was only so much she could do."

"I know-"

"But you don't. I curse, a lot, and I eat with my elbows on the table while drinking ale but mostly rum. I don't rule over a kingdom but I do run command of a ship. A pirate ship. I'm a pirate or I was but I'm also the princess who can remember the proper protocol for greeting foreign dignitaries and which fork goes with which course. I've stolen and been greedy but I've also tried to do some good. I- I just can't be what you think I am," Emma finished sadly, once more coming to a stop in front of the desk but not looking at Snow unable to face the disappointment her mother must be feeling.

"Emma, sit down," Snow commanded.

Emma sat immediately stunned to hear a tone of voice she hadn't heard in a long time, even longer than the span of time that she hadn't seen her mother. They had been separated for a decade but Snow still seemed to know exactly how to get her to fall in line. She looked up hesitantly at Snow and saw she was smiling sadly at her.

"I may have been locked away from you but I'm still your mother and I love you, no matter what you've done. If you had stopped for a moment and talked to me you would know that," Snow said it gently but the rebuke still stung. "I want to know who you are now and I want to know what you've done since our separation, both the good and the bad. I just want to get to know you again, sweetheart."

"Captain Swan," Emma said with a smile, one that grew wider at her mother's confused look. "When I started sailing I called myself Swan."

"It suits you," Snow said with a tilt of her head. A flash of pain clouded her eyes and she frowned, "Your father? Is he-"

"He's alive, but-" Emma tried to assure her but her voice was unsteady and she could feel the tremors starting in her hand. She had not only been avoiding telling Snow about her life but about the curse and her role in breaking it, "There was a curse. Zelena cast it and I'm not sure exactly what it did but we keep hearing that Misthaven is in ruins and everyone has disappeared. Dad was kept in the castle's dungeons, he was most likely swept up in the curse just like Kil- just like everyone else."

"Zelena? What kind of curse? Emma, what kind of curse?" Snow asked agitated.

"I- I don't know," Emma said taken aback. "Zelena, she's Regina's sister apparently and said she was getting what she deserved. Her happy ending."

"No," Snow breathed out sounding horrified. "It's been so many years, we should have been safe. I thought we were safe."

"You knew," Emma said accusingly. "You knew about me being this 'Savior' and kept it from me? Did you know about the curse too? About what it would do?"

"We knew," Snow said defeated, hanging her head. "The Dark One warned us about a curse that would stop time and take away our happy endings. We made preparations but it never came. We never wanted to find out why and just end up provoking Regina into casting it. Every year that went by where nothing happened we felt relief, joy that we were spared. Then, I guess, we became complacent.

"Your magic was so strong, even when you were a baby. It was enough of a burden for you to grow up with. Your father and I decided you didn't need to know about the prophecy, your fate, when there was nothing to save us from. Then Regina attacked and we were torn apart. For the past eleven years I have spent every day wondering if what we did was right, if we should have prepared you better even when we believed we were safe. I know now that it wouldn't have mattered, you were always destined to save us."

"Fuck destiny and fate and prophecies that don't give me a choice. I didn't ask for any of this, I don't want it! All I wanted was to find you and Dad, to go back home, to be happy with-" Emma paused, fighting against the tears gathering in her eyes. She had yet to utter Killian's name aloud since telling Elsa what had happened with Zelena. She wasn't about to do so to Snow who knew next to nothing about who she had become, "-to be happy with my life again. Although, I guess it was never my life in the end, just a pawn being moved about at the whims of others."

"Emma-"

"If you'll excuse me, I need to make sure we're still on course," Emma said stiffly.

Stalking from the captain's cabin at a clipped pace she longed for the Brooke. She knew every inch of her ship and thus every dark corner she could disappear to in order to control her emotions. Her only knowledge of the ship she was on that benefitted her need for isolation was that there was no one stationed in the crow's nest. With determination she made her way there, ignoring the salutes and stares of the crew in her wake.

After an hour of what she refused to acknowledge as hiding she climbed back down, windswept and in control of her temper and the shake in her hand. Snow was nowhere in sight. Emma took a deep breath and made her way back to the cabin.

"We were never explicitly told what the curse did. The Dark One spoke in riddles, as he's wont to do, and I was pregnant with you at the time."

Snow began speaking as soon as Emma walked through the door, as if she hadn't stormed out in a fit of pique. Keeping quiet Emma sat down and promised herself she would listen.

"You have to remember it was a long time ago," Snow said apologetically, glancing at Emma before focusing on the desk in front of her. Emma realized she was looking down at a piece of parchment with covered with familiar looping quill strokes, "He said we'd be imprisoned but not in a cell. Somewhere where time would stop and there wouldn't be any happy endings. That's all he would tell us about the curse. Then he told us about you, how we had to send you away and you would come back to save us, on your twenty-eighth birthday. I gave him your name as payment but I don't know what he was going to use it for. The curse never came and we had no reason to seek his advice again. I'm sorry, I don't know anything more."

"Zelena would only say that it was going to give her the happy ending she deserved," Emma said shakily, going back to those fateful moments in the library. "She said it was the Dark Curse and crushed a heart to do it. I barely escaped."

"Where did she cast it?" Snow asked, finally looking up at her.

"At our castle. We tried to stop her but her magic was too… it was too strong," Emma finished on a whisper, the image of Zelena's hand deep in her chest flashing before her eyes.

"Then we have to go back," Snow said determinedly.

"What?"

"There could be answers there or a clue, something you might have missed," Snow flipped over the parchment in front of her and grabbed a quill from its holder. She began writing, "We'll need to determine if there are any other curses that require hearts. It could help us narrow down exactly what this Dark Curse did. Write down everything you remember about her casting it: smells, colors, sounds, anything. When we get there we'll be able to discover more and possibly what happened."

"I-I don't want to go back there," Emma said desperately, a cold panic seizing her.

"What? Why not? Everything we need to know could be there, perhaps the answers could be in one of the books. Why wouldn't you want to go back and find out?" Snow's brow creased as she peered at Emma confused and with a bit of hurt in her eyes.

"I just… can't go back there. Not after-" Emma's voice broke and she found she couldn't continue.

"Not after what, sweetheart?" Snow prodded.

"I've lost so much in that castle. First it was you and Dad, our lives, our home. Then I nearly lost my heart," Emma patted at her chest, tears gathering. "This stupid, useless thing that keeps beating even after everything, everyone, else was ripped away. We can find the answers somewhere else. I won't go back there and risk losing you too."

"What is his name?" Snow asked softly.

"Wh-what?"

"His name, Emma," Snow smiled sadly at her. "I may have missed some things in your life but I know love when I see it. What is his name?"

Emma jumped guiltily. She was sure she had been careful not to mention anyone her mother wouldn't know. Especially him.

"Kil-Killian. His name is Killian and he's gone. He made me go without him, to leave him behind to suffer whatever that witch did to hi-him an-and I don-don't know if I can sa-save him."

For the second time since she'd reunited with her mother Emma burst into tears.. Snow rushed to her side and once again gathered her in her arms as she sobbed.

Her tears ended as quickly as they started, like a summer squall that passed over the Brooke soaking them to the bone before moving on with a gust of wind. She was left hiccupping in Snow's embrace, listening to her whisper reassurances in her ear.

"Shh, sweetheart, you'll find him. Just like your father found me and I him. How you found me. We'll find everyone, it's what we do," Snow murmured as she ran a soothing hand over her hair.

"I don't even know where to start," Emma said haltingly. "The scouts said that Misthaven was in ruins, no one left, they just vanished. There's been no word from anywhere else in the realm that they've been seen."

"Then we'll start with that," Snow said encouragingly. She pulled back and gently wiped the tear tracks from Emma's cheeks, "You can tell me everything on our way back to Misthaven."

"Everything?" Emma asked apprehensively.

"Perhaps not everything," Snow said with a smirk.

Emma flushed knowing what her mother was implying but somehow unwilling to share that she hadn't gone that far with Killian. A decision she still wasn't sure if she regretted or not. Sleeping with him could have given her more memories to hold onto tightly as she tried to find her way back to his side or caused her infinitely more pain knowing exactly what had been torn away. In the late hours of the night both scenarios kept her awake in her bunk, staring uneasily into the darkness.

"The kingdom wasn't how I remember it. Even before the Dark Curse. You, we, need to be prepared for that," Emma warned Snow.

"This isn't the first time I've reclaimed my throne, sweetheart. We'll handle the problems as we come across them, not over worry ourselves before then."

She blinked, amazed, at Snow's confidence, "Then I'll tell Andersen to set our heading. It should take us two weeks to arrive at the port closest to the castle."

Snow gave her a wide smile. Emma returned it hesitantly, still uneasy about the decision to return to Misthaven but knowing in her gut it was the right one. She stood and moved towards the door, pausing when Snow called after her:

"Emma."

She turned back and was surprised to see tears standing in her mother's eyes.

"I know it hasn't been easy, all this time on the run, fighting back. I want you to know, from this bandit to you, a pirate captain, that I'm so proud of the woman you've become. You'll be a wonderful queen someday."

Giving her what she hoped was a grateful smile Emma left the cabin quickly, knowing it seemed like she was escaping. She had yet to come to terms with her role as some kind of fated magical savior. Her future as a queen was almost too outlandish to contemplate. It didn't escape her notice that her hand had remained steady throughout their conversation.

Over the two weeks it took to reach Misthaven Emma did what she hadn't wanted to do when she had found her mother: she shared her story.

It came out in fits and starts. Snow listened quiet and attentive as Emma told her of how she escaped the castle with Red, Pinocchio and the dwarves, the year or so they tried to live as bandits and then their decision to flee the kingdom altogether. She laughed as she remembered their first mistake ridden sailing adventure and settled into fond remembrance as she regaled her mother with stories of finding out she had a knack for it, and for attacking Misthaven ships.

They were three days out when Emma finally began telling Snow about how Killian came into her life and the whirlwind of events that had happened in the past year. As the weeks had passed it had been easier for her to talk, to tell things to her mother she hadn't wanted to at first but as she spoke of Killian she kept his true status to herself. Not because she was ashamed but because it truly didn't matter to her that Killian was a royal in his own right. She merely didn't want to unnecessarily open up the conversation to her future as queen. Especially when there was currently no kingdom for her to rule.

"I haven't seen this view in a very long time," Snow said in a wavering voice as she came up to Emma's side at the bow of the ship.

"Neither have I," Emma murmured, continuing to look at the Misthaven coastline as it grew larger on the horizon. "I didn't dare bring the Brooke this close. Not only because of Regina, or I guess Zelena, but because it hurt too much. Red didn't even suggest it, not once."

"It still looks as beautiful as I remember. The first time I saw our kingdom like this was a year or so before my mother died," Snow said quietly, almost wistfully. Emma lowered the spyglass to look at her, "We had been visiting, oh I can't even remember which kingdom, but we had sailed for weeks and weeks it felt like. It was the first official trip I'd taken where I had been expected to act as a princess should. At first I was so proud, happy even, to show just how grown up and proper I was. By the time we returned and I saw Misthaven like this again I was ready to run off and be travelling minstrel. My father pointed out I didn't even know how to play a simple wooden flute."

Snow laughed and Emma joined her, imagining her mother roaming the kingdom with a flute in one hand and her bow in the other.

"So much has happened since then. Almost too much," Snow sighed sadly. "I never wanted you to experience anything like I had. I'm so sorry, Emma."

"It's not your fault," Emma said aghast. Snow dropped her eyes as if she didn't believe her, "I never blamed you, not once. This was all Zelena's fault and Regina's too. They're the reason for everything we've had to deal with, for all of our suffering. Not you, never you."

Snow hummed, neither in agreement or negation, and turned to look back toward the horizon. Emma stared unbelievingly at her mother. She wondered what exactly had been running through Snow's thoughts during her long imprisonment and what part Zelena had played in shaping them. One more thing for the woman to answer for once Emma confronted her again.

They approached the harbor with caution. It quickly became apparent to Emma that she'd have to set anchor well outside the safety of the port. Debris was butting up against the hull as Emma ordered the ship to slow to a crawl. Even from their position still far out at sea it was all too easy to see the destruction caused by the curse.

The entire harbor looked as though a giant had stormed down from his beanstalk and used the ships as his playthings. Every ship had snapped free of its moorings and only a few were left afloat. The others were broken and battered, half sunk or smashed to bits contributing to the debris field that expanded with the coming and going of the tide.

Through her spyglass Emma saw that the village hadn't fared much better than the ships. More rooftops than she could count were collapsed, windows blown out as the glass glittered in the midday sun, signs and even some doors ripped off their hinges laying splintered on the cobblestones or propped up like grave markers. It was hard to tell what originated from the force of the curse and what was exacerbated by the months that had passed.

Aside from the flocks of gulls and a few crows there were no other signs of life. She had seen plenty of ports after a violent storm and it was disconcerting to not see a single person trying to set things to right. Most alarming of all was the unnatural stillness in the village. Even the birds hardly stirred, their intermittent calls pierced the heavy silence that blanketed the ship as they approached.

Emma gave the order to drop anchor, "My mother and I will go ashore with a small party. From there we'll continue on foot while the others gather what supplies they can to at least make it to a welcoming port. Hold your tongues about your purpose there, if you must say something explain that you're making a report for Queen Elsa for new trade routes. It's routine and shouldn't arouse too much suspicion. After that head straight back to Arendelle. Andersen is your captain now."

There was a beat of silence before Andersen spoke up, "I don't think that's a good idea, your- er- Captain. Queen Elsa-"

"Is fully aware and supportive of this plan," Emma cut in. She didn't need the crew questioning her decision or Andersen's near slip of her true status. "Prepare a boat. We leave in thirty."

Leaving the crew to follow her orders she went below deck. Snow was close behind and they moved about the captain's cabin in relative silence. It was only when Emma noticed Snow fiddling with the bow and quiver full of arrows she had given her that she paused.

"Emma, are you sure that you don't want a few members of the crew to come with us?" Snow asked, not for the first time since Emma had told her of the plan.

"Mom, I've told you," she said with waning patience. "While I trust them they're ultimately loyal to Elsa and Arendelle. I won't drag them into this by ordering them to remain at my side. Not when they have the chance to return to their families with stories to tell of their time with us instead of scars."

"This isn't only our fight, Emma. You don't need to do this alone," Snow argued.

"I'm not doing it alone, I have you," Emma said with a wide grin that only faltered slightly when Snow frowned at her. She slung her pack over her shoulder, "They should be ready for us."

She turned and left the cabin before Snow could respond or argue further. The last thing she wanted to do was get into a fight with her mother over something she wasn't willing to budge on. Especially when they'd have no one but each other for company for the foreseeable future.

The boat was ready when Emma emerged on deck. She was relieved. If Andersen had decided to go against her orders she would have had to resort to drastic measures. It wouldn't have turned out well for any of them or her friendship with Elsa if she'd had to use her magic to guarantee that she'd make it to shore. Before she could praise their efficiency Andersen pulled her away from the bustling on deck to the somewhat quiet helm.

"I'm going to put in my report to Queen Elsa that I am thoroughly against this plan. It's a reckless, dangerous, and absolutely foolish course of action. Even more so when you refuse to elaborate what you intend to do once you leave that village. You and your mother are the last of your line. Your priority should be restoring your kingdom and securing your legacy. Not frolicking off into the woods on some sort of fool's errand."

Emma couldn't have been more shocked if he had slapped her. Andersen had quickly figured out who Snow was when they had rescued her and subsequently realized what that made Emma. He had tried to confront her about it multiple times over the weeks but she had rebuffed him every time, thankful that he had kept his revelations to himself. She could see that it had been a colossal mistake on her part.

"How dare you speak to your captain and heir to the throne of Misthaven in that way!" Snow's voice resounded from across the deck, every syllable ringing with authority. Emma thought she could hear the commanding tone echoing throughout the village. "You are meant to follow orders without question, are you not?"

"Ye- yes, Your Majesty," Andersen stuttered, clearly caught off guard by Snow dropping all pretense and dressing him down as the Queen of Misthaven.

"You have insulted not only my daughter and myself but your own Queen as well with your assumptions as to what should or shouldn't be done. When your crew has returned with what supplies they've found you will leave and never return under threat of imprisonment," Snow's green eyes snapped with anger as she looked over the crew that was watching her with trepidation. She turned back to Andersen, "You are hereby banished from Misthaven by my order. Is that understood?"

"Yes Your Majesty," Andersen said weakly, ashen and swaying slightly as though he might faint.

"Good," Snow said tersely. She made her way over to the rowboat that was waiting to be launched, "Shall we?"

Emma gaped at her mother as she climbed gracefully into the boat. The crew scrambled to their positions, four of them joining Snow as the others prepared to lower the boat to the water. Without sparing a glance at Andersen Emma made her way across the deck and was stunned to see Snow trying to hide a proud grin. She clambered into the boat with less finesse than Snow did and signaled for them to be lowered, trying very hard not to catch her mother's eye because she knew the moment she did she would start laughing and most likely never stop.

Her mirth died the instant the rowboat touched the water. The view they'd had of the destruction from aboard the ship had been removed, even as they had slowly sailed through it. Emma felt as if she was in the heart of it as the sailors in charge of the oars began to row them away from the ship and towards the shore. They had no choice but to move through the water slowly as Emma and the two not rowing bent over the sides of the boat to push debris out of their way. She couldn't look at Snow and the tears that were falling steadily from her eyes.

It took over an hour for them to make it to shore and to find a suitable place to unload themselves. Nearly every pier in the harbor was gone, only thick wooden pilings sticking out of the water to indicate where they had once been. Finally she spotted a ladder that led to the water and ordered them moor the boat there. The shortest among them would have to jump to reach the bottom rung but it was better than nothing.

She was the last to climb the ladder and was therefore the last to face what remained of the village. Killian had told her of his small adventure to sneak on the Jewel when he had last been in Misthaven and she had asked him to describe the village in as much detail as he could remember. His words had painted a full and vibrant picture in her mind. To see the stark, broken reality in front of her felt like a knife to the stomach, the sharp bloom of pain in her gut that radiated a pulsing sick heat over her body.

They picked their way through the village carefully, worried that any wrong move might cause everything to collapse. Without many of the signs indicating what building originally housed what they cautiously investigated every one slowly accumulating small jars of pickled goods that had yet to turn. It was far from enough but Emma was confident with rationing and favorable winds the ship and its crew would make it to the next port without too much suffering. For her and Snow, however, she hoped that the game in the woods would be far more plentiful.

It was late afternoon by the time they had scoured through all the promising looking buildings. The road leading out of the village was clear, something Emma found oddly fitting as she stared off to where it disappeared into the forest. Snow cleared her throat delicately beside her bringing her focus back to the group.

"This is- uh- where we'll part ways," Emma said hesitantly. She was no longer their captain and even though they knew she was a princess she wasn't exactly sure she wanted to start ordering people about as one. She looked at the four sailors in front of her, "I know your perception of who I am has changed but I want you to know that all of you, along with your fellow sailors, were one of the finest crews I've sailed with. Give my regards to the others and tell them I wish them smooth sailing back to Arendelle."

"Andersen's banishment does not extend to anyone else," Snow chimed in quickly with a genuine smile. "If any of you reaches the rank of captain your ship will be well received here. Once we've restored everything to how it should be, of course."

Three of the sailors shuffled their feet. Emma couldn't tell if it was because they were uncomfortable with Snow's invitation or if they were just eager to return to the ship. The fourth was looking at Snow with a curious tilt to her head.

"Go ahead and go back," Emma said genially. She kept an eye on the curious sailor, "If you make good time you'll be well on your way to a more bountiful port before night falls."

"I'd like to remain behind and continue on with you, Your Highness," the fourth sailor said switching her gaze to Emma.

"I won't have you abandoning your post, sailor," Emma said sternly. "You've sworn to serve Elsa- Queen Elsa- as a member of her Royal Navy and you'll continue to do so. Understood?"

"All due respect, Your Highness, but I've made no such vow. I was hired on by Andersen as an able body that could follow orders and had some sailing knowledge. My allegiance is not to Arendelle or her Queen," the woman said as she squared her shoulders to stand tall in front of her.

Emma regarded her carefully. Her face wasn't a familiar one. Not from her time sailing through various ports and cities or from her long lost life as a princess where people of all statures paraded through the castle halls. She was older than Emma by about ten or so years with light brown hair and while she was pretty it wasn't a face that would catch someone's eye and hold their attention. Curiously the only thing that truly stood out about her was the barely hidden pain in her dark brown eyes. One that Emma was almost certain had surfaced the moment they had stepped foot on dry land.

"Who is your allegiance to then?" Emma asked slowly, already guessing what the woman's answer would be.

"I was born and raised in Misthaven. My loyalties are with you and your mother," the woman bowed her head towards Snow respectfully and then looked back at Emma. "I'd like to help restore the kingdom to the one I remember. The one I loved."

"It won't be easy," Emma said bluntly, ignoring her mother's frown. "There are things we won't be able to tell you and the things we do will become your burdens to bear with us. If we allow you to come with us you need to trust us with your life as we'll trust you with ours. Do you understand?"

"I do," the woman answered without hesitation.

"Good," Emma gave her a grim but genuine smile. She turned to the other sailors, "You're dismissed. Unless of course someone else wants to come along."

She was amused and unsurprised when they shook their heads almost in unison. They gave her and Snow perfunctory bows before beating a hasty retreat back towards the docks, the sound of clinking jars accompanying them as they went. Emma watched them go with only a hint of envy that they could so easily choose which path for their future to take She banished the thought quickly before her hand could start to tremble.

"What's your name?" Snow asked.

"Grace, Your Majesty," the woman answered, bobbing down into a small curtsey.

"None of that now," Snow said, waving her hand. "No curtseys, bows or 'your majesties'. Not with what we're about to face. Call me Snow."

"When was the last time you were in Misthaven?" Emma broke in before Snow could offer Grace a cup of tea they had no means of providing.

"Almost two years ago. I spent some time in Camelot and Balliolshire before heading to Arendelle," Grace answered quickly, obviously eager to prove she was going to be helpful in any way she could.

"Well then congratulations, Grace, you've just become Misthaven's royal historian. Or should I say only historian?" Emma joked, grimacing as it fell flat. She sighed, "Tell us all you can remember while we walk."

"Where are we going, Captain?"

Emma smiled, glad that Grace hadn't exactly followed Snow's order, "Home, of course. If I remember correctly you'll have a day or two to tell us what we've missed while we've been gone."

"And when we get there?" Grace asked cautiously.

"When we get there," Emma repeated quietly looking to Snow for support.

Her mother gave her a watery smile as she adjusted the bow resting across her body. Emma turned to look at the road that led towards the castle, pushing back the memory of the last time she'd seen it when Killian had been at her side. It was too painful to continue otherwise.

"When we get there," Emma said once more with strength behind her words, "That's when we really start getting our hands dirty. Still up for joining us?"

"Absolutely," Grace said with conviction from behind her.

"Then let's get going. We still have some daylight to take advantage of. It would be a shame to waste it."

Taking a deep breath Emma started down the road. The first few steps she still felt the urge to turn around and return to the ship with the other sailors, contention with Andersen be damned. Then she heard the confident footsteps of Snow and Grace following her and she realized that for better or worse she had chosen her path long before she even realized there was a choice to be made. Her path would always lead her to Killian and she would be damned if she allowed anything, even herself, to get in her way.


A.N.: I have things I want to say but won't because they're either too spoilery or too wordy to just dump in an end of chapter note. As always you can come over to interrogate me on the tumbls or just hop on over to say 'hi', I'm not picky.

Next: Grace's story and not quite storming the castle