Once they had arrived at the privateer's ship, Emma wasn't very surprised when she was tossed in the brig, it was a fitting place for a captured pirate, dark, smelly and utterly depressing. They also saw fit to leer at her constantly which had earned more than one of them a punch through the bars or a spat insult.

"She's a real spitfire, thats for sure!" They chuckled at this and Emma gave them a seething glare along with a few choice words that would have had her mother appalled.

She had been stuck in this hole for far too long. Emma had no way of knowing in the dank if it had been hours, day or even weeks. She just knew that any time spent aboard this wretched ship was time wasted.

"Cap'n?" A timid voice.

"Yes, Mr. Smee? What is it?" Hook barely glanced at him, busy pouring over a map of the surrounding waters. Smee stood, wringing his red knit cap nervously in his hands. "Cap'n, we can't find the lady Emma anywhere." That gave Hook pause.

"What do you mean, Smee? Isn't she on kitchen duty this morning?"

"She didn't show. I figured she had slept in but when I knocked on her door, she wasn't there." Hook was seized with panic and banged his one hand down on the table hard.

"Have you checked the rest of the ship, Smee?"

"Aye, Cap'n." Hook cursed. Something was going on. He could feel in in his gut like a sixth sense. Following Smee, he entered the hall and unbeknownst to him, stood in the exact spot Emma had stood the night before. He saw something glittering in the corner. He picked it up and examined it. It was a brass button with the royal crest embedded in the metal, a dove over crossed swords, encircled by a ribbon. It was those blasted privateers! They must have returned in the night! And of all his crew, they had to have taken her!

"Smee, it appears that those bloody navy men came back." he said, his tone thick with rage. Then a horrible image came to mind. One of his swan in filthy cell, her eyes hollow, pain without hope for a rescue and at the mercy of Men without pushed that horrid image from his mind and began plotting a course to follow that ship. He wasn't about to give up so easily.

"Come with us, Milady." One of the guards unlocked the cell door but Emma remained in place, her brows furrowed together, eyes narrow with suspicion. He hadn't called her Milady before and she hadn't left the cell since arriving. When she remained rooted to the spot, he sighed exasperatedly and, grabbing her by the arm, forced her to stand. Much to their surprise, she didn't fight tooth and nail once they departed from the brig and to her surprise he escorted her to her own chamber (although it want nearly as nice as the one she'd had aboard the jolly). They posted guards outside the door and she was instructed to change into the thing laid out before her. An outfit befitting her former station, red silk and chiffon and narrow crimson heels to match. Upon seeing the fine things that had been laid out, Emma's suspicions only grew. If these men wanted her bathed and finely dressed, there were very few explanations. Not that she was very surprised; the way some of them looked at her was indication enough. However, even if she absolutley hated giving in to their twisted whims, she was looking forward to the feeling of being clean once again.

Once she deemed herself ready, she tenatively peeked out the door. Asides from the two guards stationed at the door, there was one other. He was slender with dark, curly blond hair and full on stubble. He appeared to be better dressed and more distingushed than any one else she had see thus far. This alone terrified her. He leaned, casually against the wall but when he saw her, he jumped to attention.

"I see that you are presentable once again, M'lady." he said, but he wasn't looking at her with barely disguised greed like the others, he was looking at her like she was just another parcel to deliver.

"Forgive my crew, m'lady, for their less than gentle treatment." He was all formalities and composure and taking her hand, he kissed it before she pulled away. What kind of game was he playing?

"Whatever you intend to do to me, take caution." She warned, backing up slightly and bumping into one of the guards who had moved between her and the door. At her words of warning, he raised his hands into a defensive position.

"Relax, m'lady. I have no intention of causing you harm." At this, Emma's limbs went soft with relief but she still didn't trust this man. As if to prove his point to her, he waved his men away to give them a bit of space.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice full of aprehension.

"When we invaded that pirate ship, our intent was to capture the men onboard and have them returned to the justice of the king but we caught you instead." he explained. Emma frowned, confused as to where this conversation was going.

"My men assumed that you were a pirate too. I sincerely apologise for leaving you in the brig but we had no idea."

"No idea about what?" she asked.

"Oh! I haven't even introduced myself," he said, ignoring her last question. "Sir Graham of Woodsbane at your service. And I know who you are, m'lady."

"And how is that?" she asked, sarcastically.

"I used to serve in your father's courts, Emmaline." Emma couldnt help but let out a gasp. Seeing the look on her face, he gestured to the locket around her neck, entangled with the rose pendant

"The locket was a dead giveaway." he smiled.

"Now, Emmaline, seeing as you've had enough troubles of late, i'll let you have some time alone." he said, and as the guards he had previously dismissed returned, Emma was pushed back to her lonely little cabin. Emma lay on the bed, stroking the necklace Hook had given her and thinkng about what Graham had said. Troubles of late? She wondered. Was he refering to the time spent in the brig or something else? Like the time she had spent wrapped in a ceratin pirate's embrace.