She laughs when Grumpy relaxes on the edge of the cliff. His legs are suspended next to hers as he uncorks his flask and takes a swig. Of all seven of her godfathers, he's the only one who won't send her back, and she can't help but think it's ridiculous he'd pretend he was hunting for her.

"What are you doing out here, sister?" He questions offering the flask her way. Emma lifts a hand and shakes her head. She hasn't drunk once since the war started. "Suit yourself." He takes a long sip and licks his lips. "Snow has half the guards searching for you."

Emma rolls her eyes at that. Her mother had been smothering her since the night Emma let her see her cry.

"She thinks if you stray from the castle the Queen will get her grimy paws on you."

At that, she snorts. "What do you think?"

"I think that if she wanted you, she would have already taken you." He takes one last drink before popping the cork back on his flask and shoving it in his vest. "Still not safe to go out alone. Not with a war."

"I can take care of myself, Grumpy." Her voice cracks.

He agrees. "You do have a mean right hook." He motions towards the sea before rubbing his forehead.

He must have run to the cliffs to be so sweaty, Emma reasons.

"What's your deal with this place?"

"I like seeing the open water." It's only half true. She knows he thinks she's full of shit by the way his lips curve. "It's my reason, and I'm not too keen on parting it with anyone."

"Whatever." He counters her snark with a snicker. "I'll keep you company. Wouldn't want to head back now anyway. Everyones got their knickers all bent out of shape looking for you. Might as well enjoy the time out."

She studies the way he holds himself. It's stupid to act as if he didn't care, because the sweat on his face told a different story.

If she knew anywhere to write him she would, but her pride keeps her from asking around. If she asks she shows she cares; if she shows she cares it will be all the more painful if he accepts her letters and declines to write back.

And why would he write you, Emma?

She tortures herself with this issue continuously throughout the days that seem to stretch on.

Why would he write you back after what you've done to him? Why did he ask you to dance with him?

Years of tormenting him circle through her thoughts like a wheel. The several times she tripped him at public assemblies; the one time she made him a patsy for her own immoral behavior in the kitchen; the time she locked him in a storage closet and he had to climb out a window. Yeah, Emma was sure that the Lieutenant minded her as much as he cared for contracting a cold. Or the plague. Or something far worse, if there was something graver than the plague… Emma believed that she was quietly suffering to the distracted eyes of those around her. Gods, she hated it.

Not long after the ships departed port, her father decreed that all mirrors be destroyed. Each shard of glass was discarded to the ocean floor. Her grandmother, the Evil Queen, the woman who was half the reason for this war could use mirrors with her black magic. As for the Dark One, his name was strictly forbidden from being spoken.

"Names, Emma," her father told her, "are a powerful thing. Saying it once would summon him.

It was true because in an act of defiance after seven months of being shut out of all military relations she did it. Just like that he obliged her.

"I knew it would be you." He clapped his hands. "I was waiting patiently in my castle spinning my wheel awaiting your call, m'lady."

"I was testing to see if it were true. That if I called your name you'd appear" Emma lied. "It is. Doesn't the Dark One have anything better to do? Be gone."

At that, he burst into deranged giggling. The high-pitched shrill voice caused her skin to itch. Goosebumps coated her arms; a chill crept up the core of her spine.

"Now is not the time for jokes, dearie." He clasped his hands tightly together. "Now is the time for making deals."

"I don't want to make deals with you." Truth was Emma'd give her left hand to know about the status of the Lieutenant. Gods, what had happened to her? "I wont."

"But you will." He scratched his chin and sized her up. "You shall see. You will summon me again soon."

"I wont."

He smirked. Emma gasped at the sight of his teeth. Every inch darkened and rotting away, or at least appeared to be.

"What if my only desire was to end the war you helped bring on my people?"

Another laugh. Much darker than the last. "But it isn't."

"How could you possibly know what's inside my head?" Emma folded her arms.

"I know, because you wear it on you face, dearie. Our little Princess has become a woman, and a woman with her heart on her sleeve." She inhaled sharply. "It doesn't matter how many mirrors you break, or how many guards stand watch in every corner of your room. I see everything. That lieutenant of yours-"

"Stop." She felt sick to her stomach. Was it that obvious? Could he really read her so well?

"Oh. Oh, how interesting." The Dark One capered closer to her and rolled forward on his toes. His scaly hands reached for a strand of her hair. She swatted it away and took a step back. "How about I leave you with this because you'll summon me again very soon either way. Consider it a token of goodwill. Your lieutenant's fate hangs in the balance. You see his fate is like a coin. He will return to you either way, but one path he'll lose himself and you'll be nothing more than a stranger."

Emma shut her eyes. Don't listen to him, Emma. Nothing he says is clear. He twists words to manipulate the world to his advantage. Don't listen.

"I don't believe a word you say. Be gone imp."

There was no reply. No giggle. When she dared to open her eyes, he was gone.

Two months had passed since encountering the Dark One. Two more months without seeing the Jewel. Two more months of being kept in the dark about the status of the war and her kingdom and her people by her parents. She was on the edge. It wouldn't take very much more for Emma to crack.

He found her at the cliffs - again. She had been sneaking out more often. Grumpy waited a few minutes by the trunk of an elm tree watching as Emma gazed at the horizon. Her eyes were constantly roaming the water in search of something. No, not something. Someone.

"Where are you?" She whispered into the wind.

His eyes fell to his flask as a lump formed in the back of his throat.

Poor kid. Poor Emma.

Grumpy got her; Grumpy understood. For years, he had been giving that lieutenant the stink eye. He noticed it the moment Lieutenant self-righteous escorted Emma back from that party. That hot-headed straight laced goody-two-shoes eye sparked whenever they landed on Emma; he recognized that look. It was hard not to living with Snow and Charming all these years.

The fighting was absolute bullshit. He'd watch the two go at it every time their paths intersected. Some unbelievable effort to disguise what really laid underneath it all. Those two kids were one in the same. He was sure the lieutenant had known right away that he was completely screwed the moment he laid eyes on Emma. And Emma, well, he figured she didn't know until it was too late. It's when she noticed her feelings that she started to hide at the cliffs. Emma was scared. He got it. Love could be downright terrifying.

The first day she ran, he was scared shitless. Grumpy ran in every direction he thought of until he found her crying alone at the cliffs. He decided to keep it to himself. The kid needed some space. That and he couldn't bear to break the way she'd watch the sea like a familiar old friend. Two months later, he sat down next to her and uncorked his flask relishing in the amber liquid as it burned its way down his throat. Then it became a weekly thing. Now, it's a daily thing.

"So I hear from Snow that no good Lieutenant will be making an appearance soon." He can't stand to see her suffering any longer, so he lies. Nobody had heard from the Jewel in months. Emma's eyes twitched. "Thought I'd warn you."

She moans. A feeble attempt to keep up her fake hatred.

Nice try, he thinks.

"Not him." Emma spits out. "It was kind of nice around here with him being away for so long."

"I don't like that snitch either." Emma's skin is less pale than when he first sat down to join her. He takes another sip.

I'm going to some hell for this lie, he thinks as he scratches his nose.

"Happy might not agree, but I think that snitch deserved it when you set him up to take the fall for the kitchen incident."

She laughs and his heart warms when he hears it being strengthened by something genuine.

"How long till he's back?" She digs her fingers into the fabric of her dress. "So I can be sure to be out that day."

"Any day now. Might be a month. Depends really. Can't be certain with the war and all." Grumpy sighs. "Don't bring him here."

"I don't want to bring him anywhere." She rolls her eyes. "I don't like him."

"Okay, Emma." He needs another drink; he's emptied his flask. "Whatever you say."