A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. This is a transition chapter. I thought I got over my writers block when I wrote a chapter I'm really proud of (Chapter Nine) last night but it seems that it's still around because chapter ten is brutal to write. I want to make things interesting for you all so I've been rearranging the plot a bit which is taking more time than planned. Sorry about that. I hope you all still enjoy this. Things will pick up again soon. Trust me. Thanks for the reviews, favourites and follows. They really inspire me to write- especially reviews because they remind me that people are actually enjoying the story!
Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.
Emma took a few deep breaths before shifting the tea soaked rags from her face. The tannin did do wonders for the stinging in her face. Not anything for the sting that constricted her chest but Emma had grown used to that over the years, but Emma hadn't expected it to. That ache was something she'd dealt with for years, almost eight for the one Neal had caused, and a lifetime for the one everything else had. She was used to it.
When Emma looked up, tossing the cloths into the bowl of tea she noticed Mary Margaret seated across the room for her. Emma shook her head. She'd forgotten how silent Mary Margaret could be, years as a bandit doing great things for the stealth quality of her movements.
"Whale said you were upset," Mary Margaret told her as soon as she noticed Emma looking at her.
Emma pushed herself up from the mattress and gave a little shrug. "No more than usual."
Mary Margaret bought her answer as much as Emma had bought Jones's about what had turned him into such a person. "What happened with Jones, Emma?"
Emma sighed. "Nothing you need to worry about. Words were exchanged and then I left."
"So Jones said something to you?" Mary Margaret stared at Emma until Emma gave an exasperated groan. If she didn't tell Mary Margaret David would start in on her and then she'd get no rest. If David thought Jones had did something his mind would immediately go to the worst place possible, something that Emma very much did not have the time or patience for. Especially so close to getting Jones out of her life.
"Jones made a snarky comment about my past with Neal. About being stolen from my bed."
Mary Margaret's face hardened and she started to rise from her position on the chair. "David's going to kill that pirate."
Emma quickly held her hands up. "Which is exactly why you aren't going to say anything. Jones leaves tomorrow morning and then we'll be done with him for good, debt paid off, see you never." Mary Margaret looked unsure but she settled herself down again anyways. "I just want Jones off my ship."
"Then that's what will happen," Mary Margaret replied softly. She got up this time and moved to sit next to Emma on the bed. "Neal's gone, Emma."
"I know," Emma gritted out, the name causing her breath to hitch in her chest. Emma forced the breath out. It's been seven years, calm down. "I kicked him off the boat myself."
"Then why are you letting it bother you?"
Emma shut her eyes slowly and exhaled between her teeth. "It's not like I want it to. I don't want Jones or him under my skin."
"Then don't let them." Mary Margaret pressed a kiss to the side of her head. Emma opened her eyes and turned to Mary Margaret. "Don't let them bother you because you're too good to be held down by them. You deserve to be happy, Emma."
"I am happy," Emma answered feebly.
Mary Margaret gave her a knowing smile as Emma stood to leave the cabin, the emotional topic making her uncomfortable. She wanted away from the talk of Neal. Now. "You're getting there."
Emma spent the rest of the night on deck, insisting to David and half her crew that she didn't need to sleep. On deck Emma was as happy as she ever was because on deck she was free, her small piece of the world solid under her feet. Emma paced the deck until darkness fell, checking for things that would need to be repaired at the shipyard and making a mental list of it all. When she could no longer see where a board was rotted out or the deck varnish had worn off she moved to the helm, taking over from Robin.
Emma stood strong, hands against the wheel. She'd learned everything she knew from David and Robin. She didn't come from this type of background, having known nothing about sailing before everything with Neal, but if anything, Emma was good at surviving and to survive one needed to adapt. Sure, in a storm Emma still handed off control to David but on a clear night where the moon lit the way Emma was fine on her own. She'd picked up a lot in seven years as captain, not to mention in the year she spent before that on the boat with Neal.
The Merciless Swan docked in the little port town of Berkley around eight o'clock in the morning. Emma stood at the helm as the boat was guided into the shipyard. Once docked Emma jumped off the boat, leaving David and some select crew members to tie up the lines. She also ordered Robin and Whale to bring Jones, in whatever way they saw fit, to the local hospital and off the ship. Emma was gone before they brought the injured captain up, letting the man leave without saying something to her because there was nothing that she wanted to hear from Jones. Unless it was the sound of his footsteps walking away from her.
Emma strode across the shipyard pier with long steps. Several of the workers nodded to Emma, a motion which she returned. She'd been coming to this specific shipyard for years so most of the workers knew her and didn't give her much trouble. But, as she was alone and there was always the chance that someone would not know her as the captain of The Merciless Swan, Emma's hair was tucked up under her wide brimmed green hat and she wore navy pants and her heavy grey herringbone coat both to keep out the early winter chill and hide her shape as a woman.
Emma let herself into the central office for the shipyard and swept her hat off, blonde hair falling down around her shoulders in a sea wind tousled sheet. The yard boss sat behind a large wooden desk, smiling happily at her. Marco was his name. Marco worked on the ships as well as the primary wood carver, though now any physical labour time was spent doing special projects such as figureheads as the talented man was getting older. August, his son, looked after most of the other aspects of work, climbing around the boats and getting into spaces that Marco no longer could. Emma liked Marco. He was kind in a way Emma hadn't experienced much of before meeting him. Though she usually only saw him for the month the ship was in his work yard Marco always remembered her and treated her like another child of his.
"Emma!" Marco called, rising from his seat.
"Good to see you, Marco," Emma replied, moving into his open embrace. She wasn't much for outright affection but Marco was Marco and she couldn't deny him a hug. Marco motioned for her to sit and Emma did, settling in the stuffed chair across the desk from Marco.
"So I take it you have some work for me to do?" he asked good naturedly.
Emma nodded. "Just a bit." She continued on to explain that several deck boards near the helm would need to be replaced after one of the cabin boys had dropped a cannon ball on it. The corking between much of the deck behind the wheel also needed to be done to keep rain from running through the deck and into the living spaces during storms. Emma also wanted everything on deck re-stained, though that was more preventative maintenance than something that desperately needed fixing. The wood was less likely to rot if it was sealed and less rot meant less trouble for Emma and her crew.
Emma stood when she was finished, grasping the brim of her hat as she moved. Marco gave her another hug goodbye before letting her leave the office. Emma stopped at the door, feeling compelled to tell him one last thing and annoyed at herself for wanting to do such a thing. But telling Marco felt like a proper ending to the whole debacle. And did she ever want it to end. With a sigh Emma turned to face Marco.
"There's a ship coming in, any day now, The Jolly Roger. Badly damaged. The captain was gravely injured so we took him in. See to it that the ship is allowed into the yard."
"This other captain, is he a friend of yours?" Marco asked cautiously, recognizing the name of the other ship. And the reputation. Under normal circumstances Marco would never allow The Jolly Roger into his yard, especially since his son was the one to do much of the work and day to day dealings with ships captains.
Emma shook her head. "Just someone I owed a favour to." She shut the door to the office and left, moving back towards her ship so she could release her crew for their well-earned breaks.