Storybrooke – Now
Emma paced the floor as slowly and calmly as possible. Her one blessing was that her father was nowhere near her house. He was on patrol and in search of her mother and brother. He wouldn't be back until well after the sun set. But Killian had left hours ago and he wasn't even supposed to be searching for trouble.
She was going to kill him.
The sheriff had just decided to journey out in search of said boyfriend/ deputy. She had her hands on her keys and left hand already flying towards her jacket. But the moving doorknob stilled her body. She waited, breath bated, to see who was walking through the door.
Killian appeared in a quiet rush. His finger shot towards his lip. He quickly looked out to insure nobody followed him. Then he slammed the damned thing and waltzed her way, tugging on her arm.
"What happened?" Emma asked.
Fear began to bubble up her spine.
"Rothman…" he said.
Emma watched him, confusion filling her every vein. Killian stepped forward stumbling on his own two legs. She reached out to grab him, nearly taking herself down with him. Together they worked their way to the kitchen table.
Getting him in a chair was more work than the sheriff ever expected. He kept fighting her for some bizarre reason, saying things about curses and white fireballs. Emma could barely pay attention to where she was going. His hook seemed to be glowing as well.
"What happened?" She repeated hoping her voice would cut through his apparent panic.
Ocean blue eyes filled with unshed tears. A strange anger enveloped Killian's features. His right hand shot out and twisted on the cloth near her heart. He dragged her towards him with an intense ferocity never used before. Their noses were centimeters from touching when he finally spoke.
"Rothman has magic," he said.
Emma's eyes blew wide. She felt her heart rate speed up against her will. Every inch of her body buzzed in quiet alarm. She found herself reaching towards Killian's one hand and holding on tight. It was surprising how quickly her mind stopped whirling with him by her side.
"Explain," she said.
And so he did. He told her everything. From the trek into the woods to Odette's powerful display of courage, nothing was left out. The deputy even explained how the girl didn't even use magic to finish packing her car of the few supplies needed to leave.
"Are you sure?" Emma asked, "I know it may seem crazy but allot of energy is needed to make a fireball burn white. That's the hottest stage of the game."
"Exactly," Killian agreed, "but she wielded it like it didn't even take her a minute of concentration. She looked bored, Emma."
"Hold on," an idea suddenly occurred to her, "What did she call him?"
A smile dared to grace Killian's gorgeous lips. He visibly calmed from the stress he was under. His breathing began to stabilize. His palm wasn't even as sweaty.
"Rothbart," he said, "Now I'm unfamiliar with whom this bloke is but I'm betting someone in town knows him and if they do we can-"
"I know him."
Emma would have been more concerned by Killian's face if she wasn't so confused herself. A slight pressure kept pounding down on the right side of her head. The moment that stupid name escaped his lips it became rather insistent. But Emma Swan's gut was telling her there was far more than that to the tale.
She couldn't remember how. She barely even knew why the name sent chills up her spine. But she did recognize the name from one of her favorite fairy tales. And she just knew that her hatred of Robert Rothman stemmed from something more than just his increasingly odd behavior. So she was going to have to take a page from Henry's book and believe.
"Rothbart is the bad guy in the tale of Swan Lake," she explained, "and if Odette Loche's name is anything to go by… I think I know exactly which story she's a part of."
"Swan Lake," Killian said, "Isn't that the one with the needless dancing and the jumping?"
Emma simply nodded. It was too difficult to explain a ballet to him. He barely understood how to operate a toaster. But if her theory was correct then they were dealing with a situation they never before expected.
"Odette said she tried to tell us about a curse. And she mentioned it again during her meeting with Rothman. Killian, what if she's right? What if the missing children aren't the curse we're looking for? What if it's something far worse?"
Killian's gorgeous lips turned into a deep frown. His ocean blue eyes turned to cloudy grey steel. His right hand began to tighten its hold on her. His jaw worked from right to left and back again.
"What could be worse than missing children, love?" He asked.
Emma swallowed. Her mind once again flashed back to Henry's book. The final page had been quite clear. The magical clouds and the very scene depicted something that could only come from the future. But it could only be the future if it hadn't happened yet.
If the image was right they had somehow returned to the Enchanted Forest or they were going to. The picture didn't show Henry or her mother. It didn't even show Roland or any of the Merry Men. There were too many factors to consider.
There was, however, one certainty. If the girl was right and she and the thief had been trying to tell them all along. Then there was only one curse they could be talking about.
"The Dark Curse," Emma said.
Killian looked far less frightened than she thought he would. He wasn't even surprised. No the deputy just closed his eyes in silent acceptance. His head nodded once, then twice. His ocean eyes opened and revealed a depth of concern.
"What do we do?" He asked.
There was only one thing they could do. They needed answers. There was no way they could get that without talking to the girl. Unfortunately it meant Rothman would be onto them soon. If he was the true villain of this story, he was too dangerous to leave unchecked.
"Find Odette," Emma said, "and get some answers."
Storybrooke – Then
Robin Hood was pacing. He couldn't help it nor could he stop if he wanted to. His entire body felt on fire. Every muscle pulsed with magic. He had already set fire to the furniture five times. The only place he could find even a sample of peace was Regina's home office and that caused a whole different perspective of problems.
He felt groggy. He knew he was tired. He hadn't slept since this whole thing began two blasted days ago. He could barely think straight and his heart kept hammering in his chest.
A popping sound stopped his aching feet. The smell of burnt oak filled his lungs. There was a thick fog in the air. Some bizarre siren began screaming overhead. He turned to his right only to discover Regina's precious desk was on fire.
Shit, he thought.
He quickly raised his hands and concentrated. He imagined the flames dying down exactly as Emma had taught him. He could even feel the slight tug in his heart that said his magic was beginning to show. He closed his eyes to better focus his energy on destroying the flames.
He was in a cavern. It was cold and damp. His belly ached and his throat itched unbearably. He reached towards the bowl of water, ready to give in and worship its cool ambrosia with his tongue. But a warm hand engulfed his wrist. Red hair filled his vision. Then a familiar voice filled his ears.
"It's poisoned, Regina," the Wicked Witch said, "Don't."
The siren screamed louder. Something heavy slammed into the side of his head. His skull burned with the ever growing blue flames.
Robin frowned.
Emma and Snow were there. Snow was using one of those red basins that held white foam in their depths. She poured it onto the burning wood with all her might, attempting to starve the flames off that way. Her daughter merely whipped her blonde hair out of her eyes and waved her hands. She too closed her eyes in concentration, but the flames obeyed her. The disappeared just as quickly as they had come.
"What the hell are you doing?" Emma asked.
Her green eyes were blown wide with concern but Robin felt the impulse to destroy. His right hand shot out before he could even comprehend it. An electric blue light burst forth, lightning streaking from his fingertips. It slammed into the savior's chest and forced her out the window.
Snow called out for her daughter and then her concerned green eyed gaze fell on him. She stepped towards him, arms raised to show she meant no harm. Still rage seemed to boil from everywhere. Robin watched as his magic threatened to overtake him. Sparks flared to life in his palms.
Two hands suddenly latched onto his own. The sparks died down and the rage stopped. The outlaw could feel his lungs expand and contract exactly as they were supposed to. The fog of his mind lifted. Henry stood before him, brown eyes soft with understanding.
"Mom did this once," he said.
The author pulled on Robin's hands until the lion tattoo was on full display. His right hand shot out and traced it in the same delicate pattern the queen had done millions of times. The blue light faded away. The outlaw's magic collapsed into itself once more. He could no longer do any harm.
Robin's legs gave out next. His knees slammed into the hardwood floors and his bottom flared with pain at the contact. Henry somehow released his hands and the outlaw found himself surprisingly grateful. His head fell between his knees. A few deep breaths and his world wasn't swimming anymore.
"What happened?" Emma asked.
The outlaw looked up apology on his tongue. The savior frowned in deep thought before shaking her head and shrugging. She crouched down low so they were eyes to eye. Then she released a soft smile that had Robin wanting to drown himself in whiskey.
"I closed my eyes like you taught me," he said, "and I tried to focus on Regina…"
He swallowed back the bile that wanted to rise from his throat. He could barely breathe. Words suddenly escaped him. He took in a calming breath and parted his lips to speak.
The doorbell rang as his saving grace.
Storybrooke – Now
Finding the girl proved surprisingly simple. They didn't even have to start their search. They merely went to Granny's to grab their usual cup of coffee and that annoying yellow bug was already parked out front for all to see.
The yelling should not have been a surprise. The girl was new to town. Her camping partner was once again behind bars. Her camp was now a crime scene and everybody suspecting her of at least assisting in two beloved citizens' deaths.
So Killian Jones and Emma Swan should not have been shocked to find the girl screaming her head off at Granny.
"Look I can pay triple the usual rate," Odette said, "I will even take the most expensive room. I just need somewhere to stay for the next few days."
"Try the jailhouse hotel," Granny replied, "I'm not allowed to host convicted felons or their accomplices. You're barking up the wrong tree, hun."
The old woman didn't even bat an eye at the spiteful girl's snarl. She simply picked up her tray of dishes and stalked off to the back. Leroy and his brothers chuckled. Odette spun an evil glare their way and the seven heads spun away in fright.
"He didn't kill those people!" Odette shouted for good measure.
No one believed her.
The girl huffed, stomping her booted foot in the process. Her familiar blue jeans were back on and her green jacket seemed glued to her shoulders. Her raven pony tail flickered back and forth as she stomped off to the bathroom. She even growled at a few innocent bystanders as they watched her pass.
Well, Emma thought, she clearly has a temper.
It wasn't her first observation about the girl either. Odette Loche seemed icy to all who dared look her way. She held the same regal authority all royals of the Enchanted Forest seemed to possess. But her snarky comments and quick wit only seemed to intensify the more people gawked and stared.
It was a coping mechanism Emma was far too familiar with.
The sheriff sat upon her favorite stool without a second thought. She just nodded her head when Granny asked about her usual order. Then she merely waited for the girl's bright blue eyes to find her.
It didn't take as long as she thought it would.
"You're in my seat," Odette said.
Emma grinned. She turned towards the girl, huffing and puffing out her chest. The sheriff had to stifle back a bubble of laughter. The Princess Odette looked more like a two-year-old child seconds away from a tantrum. But her pouting lips turned into a vaguely familiar scowl. She plopped on the stool beside her and watched as Granny returned with her order.
"Only customers are allowed to sit there," Granny said.
Odette rolled her eyes. She grumbled out a few choice words and calmly fought not to bite her fingernails. Instead she glowered at the cook and ordered.
"Water," she said, "With lemon, please."
"Lemon costs extra," Granny replied.
The cook disappeared before she could hear the girl's unpleasant retort. It involved quite colorful language for a royal like her but Emma wasn't one to judge. She was, after all, a royal herself and far more unusual than any other ever seen.
So she promptly ignored the girl's grumbling in favor of her new usual dish. She took up her fork and carved into the layers of pasta and meat. The lasagna flaked off in the perfect portion. It came to the sheriff's lips without missing a drop of cheese. Emma Swan wrapped her mouth around the delicious lasagna and chewed.
Her fork lowered in disappointment.
"It can't be that bad."
Granny stared at her with a stern glare. The old woman had delivered Odette's water and continued to watch the sheriff with narrowed eyes. Her half-moon glasses shimmered as she pointedly looked between the slice of perfect lasagna and Emma's discarded fork.
"No," Emma was quick to reply, "It's not horrible at all it's just…"
"Not the same," Granny finished.
She didn't even wait for Emma to reply. She just scooped up the uneaten lasagna, threw it into the trash under the counter and breezed into the back. She reappeared moments later with a fresh grilled cheese. The old woman only gave a wink before she left to help her other customers.
"You eat like a child," Odette said.
Emma's green eyes turned a steady glare the girl's way. She didn't even have the decency to look chastened. Odette Loche just returned the glare with a stunning one of her own. Then she rolled her eyes, shook her head and dared to flag down Ruby with an order of her own.
"Caesar Salad," she said, "dressing on the side, light cheese and grilled chicken, please."
Ruby, like her grandmother, rolled her eyes and swiftly moved to place the order. It was no surprise that she did not return to the counter. Instead the waitress went to talk to her beloved Dorothy Gale. The two shared a chaste kiss before Granny was calling the waitress back to do her job.
"That never gets old," Odette said.
Emma turned to see blue eyes staring at her knowingly. The sheriff quirked an eyebrow before a soft smile dared to appeared on the girl's features. She pointed her head in the direction of Dorothy's bout of uncontained giggles at Ruby's antics. She looked almost as serene as the smitten woman in the corner.
"So, Sheriff Swan," Odette said, "What do you want?"
At Emma's confused look the girl was quick to elaborate.
"You and your pirate deputy boy toy entered with something more than food in mind," Odette said, "Neither one of your eyes have looked anywhere but at me. Sure the whole town can't help but take in my wonderful good looks but you two… You're up to something."
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously before a new, playful gleam appeared in her eyes.
"I'm guessing you're here to talk about my involvement in the murder… or the curse."
The last was said in a very careful whisper and with it the playful gleam was gone. She looked startlingly vulnerable. All hope seeped away from her face in a single breath. Her blue eyes darkened along with a piece of Emma's soul.
"Both," Emma replied her voice just as shockingly quiet.
She saw a little of that familiar spark returning to the girl's eyes. Odette played if off masterfully but even she couldn't bite away the small upward tilt of her lips. Killian, naturally, chose that moment to whip around and make himself known.
"Might I suggest a romantic walk on the beach, love," he said, "It's been a while since I've felt the sea breeze through my hair. It could possibly do you some good as well, princess. Murder does tend to prick unwanted ears."
The girl received the hint with nothing more than a slight upward tilt of her left eyebrow. She calmly asked for a container for all three lunches and three drinks for the road as well. Then she slapped a casual fifty on the table and told Ruby to keep the change.
"Lead the way, Deputy Jones," Odette said.
Storybrooke – Then
"Majesty?"
The little voice flittered through the hallway just as the adults reached the foyer. Roland held the door open wide, curls bouncing as he stretched on tiptoes to locate the queen. Charming and Hook were ushered in by Little John. The three men towered over the small child, rubbing his head with affection. Roland looked at all three men with a deep frown.
"Where's Regina?" he asked.
The question should have been rhetorical. He was supposed to ask then she was meant to appear. She should have entered in a whirlwind of hugs and kisses. Roland should have already been entombed in her arms and clinging to her neck like a lifeline. The queen should have been making a beeline for her son, haunting Henry with kisses and soothing words. Then she would have her arms wrapped around Robin and telling him everything he already knew.
There was no need for guilt that he couldn't rescue her. He had children to look after. His rage was barely contained on the best of days. He couldn't rescue her with his head filled with so much worry and doubt. His magic was out of control as proved just minutes ago. He was a much better asset at home then in search of her.
Robin Hood took a deep, careful breath to calm himself.
"Did he hurt her?" Robin asked.
It was logical. They were nearing three full days of capture. It wasn't unreasonable for her to be ill. Robin had spent many days recuperating at various temples after only a few hours of torture on his worst days. Surely Regina would be under Doctor Whale's care if she wasn't home.
"We should go now," he declared.
The outlaw grabbed the closet duffle bag he could find. He filled it with diapers and bottles, nappies and cloths. He even remembered to pack Roland a spare change of clothes in case his sister spit upon him again. All he needed was Mr. Monkey, Cora's favorite jumper and Henry's book and they would be more than ready to leave.
"Hang on mate."
The pirate put his hand on the outlaw. He just grabbed his arm and gave him quite the sympathetic look. There was too much care in that ocean blue gaze, too much fear.
Rage, red hot and burning filled Robin then. He slammed his right arm into the pirate's chest, pushing him away in disgust. The duffle bag fell to the floor. His left arm swung forward, caught on the shoulder before damage could be done.
Vaguely, Robin was aware of his right arm equally restrained.
"Easy," Charming said, "She's not dead. We saw her."
Robin felt everything release. His bottom hit the floor. His breathing refused to cooperate. He felt his whole world spin and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He couldn't even sooth Roland's tears or Cora's cries. Both of his children kept crying out and it was all his fault.
"It was a trick," charming explained, "Whatever his plans… He wanted us to follow the false trail for a reason."
"We'll find her mate," Hook said.
Find her. Robin could count the number of times he was told that as easily as the stars in the sky. It was innumerable the hope flashing before his eyes. Nobody understood the truth. Hope was a fallacy. Regina knew that. She only ever promised him that she would try. How could he continue to live in a world with hope without her?
"No," he said.
He was stunned to find such anger in his voice. He had no room for that. Emotion was impossible when paired with the loss of his second chance. So how was he able to be angry?
"I should have known," he said, "She's always going on about you idiots being absolutely useless-"
"Robin!"
Little John's voice was another stab in the veins. The outlaw shot him a disgusted look. He watched the bigger man cower, silently enjoying the strike of fear he created. He felt the evil smile burst upon his face.
Is this how Regina felt when becoming the Evil Queen? He wondered.
"Robin, please."
Snow White came into view. Her hands shot towards his own. She held them in her fingers and gave a careful squeeze. Her green eyes were soft and pleading.
"Don't give up hope," she said.
He tried to tug his hand away but found the energy lacking. Instead he found himself leaning into her caring gaze. Despite himself he listened to her words and soothing speech of hope.
"We're going to find her, Robin," Snow said, "You just have to wait a little longer."
"I'm tired of waited!"
Robin shouted and kept on shouting for no reason at all.
"I'm bringing her home and I'm bringing her now!"
He left, his children and his home, in a thundering huff. He didn't even care if someone followed. He just knew that too much time was wasted. So he ignored the screams of his son and the cries of his daughter. He ignored Snow and Charming's shouts to return. He just kept walking and fighting back the prickling of his eye balls.
"Robin wait!"
The outlaw ignored her too. He refused to even acknowledge the savior scrambling to catch up. He just kept walking in some destination. He didn't even know where, only that his heart would lead him to Regina.
"Where are you going?"
"The vault."
He was stunned by his own reply. His feet stopped walking and he just stood there in contemplation. There was no reason for him to go there. Regina's vault was where she stored her magic and her hearts. He had no business or enough knowledge to properly search the place. He had only ever been to ensure the queen provided herself with rest and nourishment.
And other things not appropriate for children.
Besides Regina had sealed it with blood magic the day Roland decided to explore it. She had been nearly devastated when she discovered him playing with one of her enchanted hearts. The poor boy cried for days because she couldn't face him, knowing just how evil she was even if he had no concept of the truth. How would he get in without her blood to open it? And what if Zelena showed herself?
"I'm coming with you."
He swung around to argue, words prepared to flow from his tongue. But Emma Swan's eyes were red and bloodshot. Her cheeks held a pink glow. It was then he became aware of the stains on her shirt. Her blonde locks looked just as greasy as his own. They lacked their usual luster. She too was suffering.
"Okay," he said.
Storybrooke – Now
Killian was right. The breeze pulling off the harbor was perfect. It was just chilly enough to be unbearable to most of Storybrooke's residents but warm enough for the three to be comfortable. They avoided the ships for fear of tipping their hand too soon.
Emma made certain to get to the murder first and foremost. She wanted whomever cast the curse to believe they were still under it. It would have been stupid to do anything else.
"We don't think Ryder Wood is responsible for the murders," Emma said.
She watched the girl visibly relax. A small sigh of relief fell from her lips. Odette couldn't contain the happy grin from spreading cheek to cheek.
"Good," she said, "When will he be released?"
"That's the problem, love," Killian said, "He can't."
The shadows on her features pulled at Emma's heart. Odette's blue eyes revealed her own disappointment. Her feet began to shuffle awkwardly upon the sidewalk. She bit her bottom lip the exact way Killian always did before speaking next.
"Why?"
"Because even though we believe that he's innocent," Emma said, "and that the real killer is probably setting him up… The evidence suggests otherwise."
"So you have to prove it's a cover-up before you can let him go," Odette nodded clearly following their line of thought.
Emma felt bad for the girl. She knew exactly what it was like to see someone you cared about charged for a crime they didn't commit. Ironically enough the sheriff's own mother was charged for Kathryn's death her first year in Storybrooke.
Of course at the time Emma didn't know she was fighting for her own mother. But she did know that it was Regina who set her up. She just didn't believe Henry's storybook or even that Mary-Margaret Blanchard was really her mother. If she had the curse would have been broken that much sooner.
"Listen," Emma said, "I know that you're concerned for your boyfriend-"
"He's not my boyfriend."
"But we need you to be completely honest with us," Emma continued, "Any information you give us will help solve the crime and help us find the killer, the real killer. Speaking from personal experience whoever cursed us probably committed the murder. Nothing you say is useless information."
Odette simply nodded in understanding. Her blue eyes rolled a bit in her head and Emma watched her lips move. She struggled to hear the silent words leaking from the girl's lips. Then when that wasn't enough, the sheriff had to squint her eyes to try and read them.
"You're doing it again."
Emma blinked. Odette's expression was now exuded frustration. Her blue eyes rolled and her right foot stomped. Then she closed her eyes and did a visible count to calm herself. When blue eyes appeared again, it was with acceptance.
"You didn't hear a word I said, did you?" She asked.
Emma was floored. The girl was actually trying to talk to her. She could have sworn those words were simply some quiet expletives that weren't meant for human ears.
"What?" the sheriff asked.
The girl's eyes rolled again. Emma silently wondered if she did it often enough for them to roll completely out of her head. Then she forced her mind and her ears to pay attention. Not a single word uttered was understood.
"What the hell is going on?" Emma asked.
"Exactly," Odette screeched, "I've been trying to tell you everything and you can't hear it. It's not fair. How am I supposed to break the curse if I can't even discuss it?"
Emma blinked.
"You're supposed to break the curse?" She asked.
Odette's blue eyes widened. A bright, beaming smile lit up her face. She nearly jumped in glee.
"You heard that," she said, "and you mentioned the curse before. Do you know which one? Maybe the curse is weakening."
"It's the Dark Curse," Killian said, "The one this Rothbart cast?"
Odette's beaming smile somehow grew blinding. This time she did a small jump of excitement. Her hands clapped together in an odd mimicry of Mary-Margaret Blanchard herself. Then blue eyes went wide and she quickly composed herself. She nervously looked left and right before leaning forward, voice as soft as a whisper on the wind.
"You know Rothbart?" She said.
Killian shook his head. Emma shrugged her shoulders. Both looked to the other for an answer. Then the sheriff swallowed a thick lump of emotion and attempted to explain.
"I only know the story," she said, "It's Swan Lake, right?"
Odette's forehead creased in concentration. Her blue eyes dulled as thought took over. A bright glint appeared in those bright blue eyes and she hastily replied.
"That's the one with the jumping and the twirling with the giant mouse heads, right?"
Emma couldn't stop herself from face-palming. She closed her eyes against the impending headache. A deep intake of breath allowed her emotions to calm. Unfortunately keeping the frustration out of her voice was a battle she could not win.
"It's about the queen of the swans," she began.
"Oh," Odette nodded, "That was my grandmother. She died when my father was very young. I don't really know much about her. He never talks about his parents all that much… One of his knights did tell me that he killed his father once. I don't know if that's true though. They also say the leader of the Musketeers used to be the Captain of the Evil Queen's Black Guard but he's too much of a softy…"
The girl trailed off, color flushing her cheeks. Her head bowed down in soft contemplation. For a moment it was as though Emma was looking into a mirror.
Oh my God, Emma thought, her eyes are similar to Killian's and so is her hair. He can't possibly want to help her because…
But he did. Emma Swan knew that like she knew the back of her hand, better even. Her deputy was quick to run to her instead of call. He wanted to discuss the girl face to face and the incident in the woods definitely sounded familiar.
"Killian," Emma said, "Can I speak to you for a moment?"
Judging the deputy's terrified face, Emma knew he was aware of the trouble he was about to find. He flinched his ocean blue gaze and was slow to follow her away. He bowed his head in a way that made Emma scoff the girl left behind. She also wanted to throttle him because the dots were connecting at far too quick a pace.
"You think she's our daughter," the sheriff growled.
Killian flinched again. He shrugged his shoulders in a non-committal gesture. Then he ever so gently nodded his head. His gaze turned to the confused young woman standing by the water's edge. Emma found herself follow his line of sight.
Odette was respectively bickering to herself. Her arms were animatedly moving up and down in an energetic spiral. A few distant words fluttered towards them on the wind, words like: "bloody curse" and "stupid, stupid, stupid", "ridiculous", "you were told to keep a low profile", "Mother is going to kill me when she finds out… if she finds out", "Oh stop it Odette it's not like you can't beat this curse".
The rest of her self-deprecation disappeared with the shifting wind. She struggled to regain composure. Her young face turned snow white when she caught a glimpse of the older couple staring at her. She shyly raised her right hand and gave a wave before turning away, pretending they couldn't see her berate herself again.
"You can't tell me that doesn't look like you or your mother," Killian replied.
Emma had to admit he did have a point. But he was forgetting two other people who reacted that way, and only one of them was related by blood.
"Regina and Henry do that too," she said.
Killian's left eyebrow only raised to his hairline in reply. He gave her a self-satisfied grin. Then he pointed his hook in her direction and nodded. Sure enough, Odette was still talking herself down from her nervous high.
Emma rolled her eyes.
"Olive skin," she replied.
"She told Rothman that her parents always find each other," was his.
Emma felt the blood rush from her face. A deep breath refused to come. She could barely organize her thoughts in a complete sentence. Soon she found herself once again gazing at the young woman who was now staring transfixed at the harbor. The wind whipped her hair in a very familiar way.
If I didn't know any better, Emma thought.
But she did know better and that was out of the question. So with a big shrug and firm glare to imply that no further discussion was needed, the sheriff returned to the nervous girl named Odette Loche. Her olive cheeks flushed a bright red and her bright blue eyes filled with a mischievous gleam.
"If we're going to prove your boyfriend's innocence-"
"He's not my boyfriend."
Killian rolled his eyes.
"Boyfriend, lover, friend you sleep with upon occasion, whatever you call him doesn't matter…"
"I don't sleep with him! What the hell is wrong with you?"
And Emma couldn't help but note how similar that was to all the women in their bizarre family tree.
"Fine," Killian said, "What is he to you?"
Odette's dirty look was comical to behold. Her red lips puckered. Her blue eyes narrowed to deadly slits. Her chest heaved up and down in angry dismay. Her hands glued themselves to her hips. Her petulant right foot tapped slowly upon the ground.
"He's my brother," she said.
Emma felt her lungs take in more air than intended. She began to choke on the sudden influx of too much oxygen and too many emotions. Tears prickled her eyes and she fought hard to keep them at bay. But that ugly moment of hope flared in her chest and refused to let go.
"We need to get him out of there," Killian replied.
His voice carried hope too. The sheriff found herself staring at him with a smile that refused to disappear. Her fingers sought out his without permission. Their hands clung tightly together, refusing to be parted ever again.
"But how?" Odette asked.
Storybrooke – Then
The vault was located under Regina's family vault. Its imposing gray columns appeared first and foremost. Then the stairs that looked dusty and unused even after only a week of no one visiting. The dark door with its chambers seemed to glow brighter the closer they step.
"Do you feel that?" Emma asked.
Robin wasn't certain what she was talking about. He stepped closer and closer until his toe almost touched the steps. He stepped back suddenly aware of the loud buzzing in the air. He turned to observe Emma several feet away, looking antsy and very uncomfortable.
"Can you feel it?" Emma asked.
Robin frowned. He could hear the buzzing but he was positive that wasn't what she was talking about. He stepped towards her, hoping her perspective would lead him to understand. Instead the buzzing merely increased in volume becoming a giant loud mass of reverberating noise. His hands shot to his ears to snuff the sound out.
"Focus Robin," Emma said.
She pulled his hands away and held on tight. Her green eyes connected with his own. She nodded her head, silently begging him to focus on his other senses for a change. The feeling of her awfully sweaty palms faded away. There was something else, something familiar.
Robin Hood turned towards the source of magic in the air. He felt a great warmth envelope his body. His heart beat excitedly. It felt like fresh flames licking at his skin. Pain was not their objective, only love. They licked every inch of skin and provided a sense of comfort never to be rivaled.
His nose picked up the sweet scent of apples. It floated through the air and wrapped around his every thought. The outlaw closed his eyes, happily taking in the feel of safety and home. His thoughts, as always, went to Regina.
His belly ached. It felt as though it were eating itself due to lack of food and options. His throat felt on fire too. His mouth was drier than any desert. His tongue was now far too big for his mouth.
Something hard kept hammering away at his head. He could feel it right between the eyes making his vision fussy around the edges. His brain was beating itself against his skull and there was nothing the outlaw could do to stop it.
Another wave of dizziness hit him. His eyes drooped closed before popping back open. He had to stay awake. Everything felt on fire. For such a cold, dark cave it sure felt like he was under the sun's rays at its hottest hour.
A fresh bowl of water lay before him. He watched it glistened a gleam in the low firelight. It was beckoning to him, calling out for him to take a sip. It wanted him to give in to his thirst and just drink up.
His hands shook as he reached towards the oasis. He watched the water swish and slosh as his shaking hands tried to raise the water bowl through the air. His hungry lips parted ways to relinquish control to the water's amazing depths.
No, he thought in a voice strangely sounding exactly like Regina's, don't. Zelena said no. Poisoned water. Bad water. Don't drink.
He threw the bowl away and watched it shatter into pieces. There wasn't even enough energy to smile at the destruction. He was forced to watch as the stupid bowl pulled itself back together and refilled with new, enticing water.
"You will drink," Rothbart said, "You have no choice. Every mare can be broken. Even the spirited ones."
The outlaw felt his dry, cracked burning lips part into a sardonic smile.
I wouldn't dream of it, Regina thought.
Robin gasped. His fingers left Emma's safe embrace. He rushed to gain as much space as possible. Something hot and violent rose from his throat. It spewed forth from his lips and sloshed onto the ground below.
"Robin, what happened?" Emma asked.
The outlaw rolled his eyes and unleashed a new bout of bile. The savior always asked him that. She always needed to know what was going on. As if she didn't already know. His whole world was at Rothbart's disposal and he…
He just saw her.
Robin felt his body lift up. His body stood ramrod straight. The buzzing returned to his ears. The fiery magic surrounding Regina's vault called out to him. He turned in its direction in surprise.
"I…" he choked, "I saw her."
Emma's green eyes were now blocking his vision. Her forehead was almost beating into his own. He could feel her eagerness bouncing in the confined centimeters between them.
"Who?" She asked, "Who did you see, Robin?"
The answer couldn't help but put a small smile on his face.
"Regina," he said.
Storybrooke – Now
"Who owns this place?"
Odette sounded absolutely appalled by what she saw. Emma couldn't exactly understand why. The farmhouse wasn't that bad. It wasn't moldy or full of birds of various shapes and sizes. It didn't require allot of work, at all to make it livable. Hell it wasn't even falling apart like the vast majority of houses Emma saw growing up.
"The Wicked Witch," Emma replied.
The girl's blue eyes blew wide. She stopped moving and continued to stare at the farmhouse in some bizarre mix of horror and curiosity. She stepped back towards the truck. The sheriff stopped moving and observed the strange look on her features.
Right, Emma thought, Zelena might be a horror story to her… or a villain. Poor Regina.
"Um," Emma said, "Are you okay?"
"Why would the wicked witch help Rothbart?" Odette asked.
The girl continued to step away from the house. She backed away as if the magic burned her. Emma could understand the reaction. It wasn't exactly weird for her to consider Zelena a villain. The woman had been trying but she had only decided to be good after meeting her mother, who was heartless enough to force her youngest daughter into marrying the same king who spurned her.
"I'm not sure," Emma said, "But it's not exactly like it would hurt to look. Rothman, er… Rothbart I guess was interested in the property the last time we were here."
Odette's demeanor flipped like a switch. She stepped towards the farmhouse with interest. She even gave a startled smile as she walked forward.
"You think he's trying to set her up?" Odette said.
There was so much hope in her voice Emma felt a twinge of… something. There was no name for the emotion quite yet. She just knew she wanted to keep the girl as happy as possible. A deep sense of longing was beating at the sheriff's chest.
Careful Swan, Emma chastened, this is exactly why you left Killian at the station.
It wasn't the only reason. David had sent a text about needing to return to the apartment. He didn't explain why only that he couldn't watch the prisoner. So Emma sent her best deputy over to watch the thief. It wasn't a punishment as her boyfriend probably thought it to be. Killian Jones was just the only person she could trust not now that they thought Robert Rothman was behind this possible new curse.
"So the Wicked Witch owned this?"
The girl interrupted Emma's thoughts with ease. She now looked almost excited to be exploring the shabby farmhouse. The sheriff found herself once again puzzling just how well she knew this Odette Loche. The way she kept dodging questions was certainly familiar.
"Yeah," Emma replied, "She got this when the second curse appeared. She abandoned it when she moved in with her sister…"
"The queen," Odette nodded.
The sheriff's heart dropped for completely different reasons. An odd sense of pride began in her heart. The girl talked about Regina as if she wasn't the terrifying monarch of old. It brought an odd, calming sense of hope to Emma Swan's chest. Perhaps she would get to keep her friend after all.
"So the thief's your brother, huh?" Emma began.
The girl flinched but nodded her head. She led the way to the farmhouse as if familiar with the surroundings. She even opened the door without fear of repercussions.
Emma smiled. She knew exactly where the girl learned her avoidance techniques. Every single female in the Charming family tree did.
"Why don't you guys have the same last name?" She asked with a grin.
Odette turned around with an odd look on her face. Her bright blue eyes were narrowed in deep confusion. Her petulant lips puckered in distaste. Her eyebrows drooped into an impressive 'v'.
"You know Ryder Wood isn't his real name," the girl said, "He did that to protect us. If somebody knew he was my brother they would use that against him… or they would try to hurt me through him. It was a tactical decision."
Emma understood that. She nodded her head right along and didn't even bother to question it further. The girl agreed that the thief's name was a fake. Perhaps she would be willing to share a bit more.
"Your parents," the sheriff said, "If you're a princess… they would have to be a king and queen."
Odette rolled her eyes. She heaved a great sigh. Then she proceeded to absorb her interest into observing every crevice and minor inch of the witch's dining room table.
"Obviously," she said.
Emma chuckled at the breathy huff of indignity. The girl was only serving to further Killian's theory. Every action she made reminded the sheriff of at least half the family members in Storybrooke. She could only imagine what constant exposure would reveal. So she took a gamble and asked for further divulgence.
"I'm technically a princess too," she said, "Perhaps in the time I can't remember I knew them?"
Odette's eyes rolled again. She unleashed a rather rude sigh and a string of vulgar words. From her words Emma gathered a rough growl that sounded extremely like David Nolan. The breathy sigh even mimicked him as well.
Emma chuckled despite herself.
"Perhaps we're even friends?"
"I don't know," the girl replied, "I don't know what you remember so I can't tell you if my parents are royals you know or not. It's not like they were born with the proverbial silver spoon in their mouths… at least I don't think so."
Her face scrunched up the way Henry's did when he was thinking too much. It was a trait inherited from Regina and later adopted by both Loxley men when they came into the picture. Mary-Margaret even swore Cora was adopting the look, her little nose scrunching whenever she observed something for far longer than normal.
"Well why don't you tell me about them so I can better help-"
"Shouldn't we be searching for proof of my brother's innocence?" Odette interrupted.
"Okay," Emma said, "Let's start looking."
Storybrooke – Then
The vault was unreasonably warm. Even in the heart of summer it should not have been this hot. Robin was already stripped down to his t-shirt and considering ridding himself of the shirt altogether. Emma's pink cheeks signaled she had more than noticed.
"Put some clothes on," she said, "It's practically freezing down here and you're acting like it's a sauna."
She paused when she noticed the look on his face. Her green eyes rolled to the back of her head. She heaved a great sigh of impatience and pulled her red jacket closer.
"It's a steam bath," she said, "No water just steam and in a small room like a… you know what never mind. How did you see Regina?"
Robin shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't know," he said, "I just closed my eyes and thought of her."
It was the most vexing situation he had ever encountered. The love of his life, his bloody soulmate, was just within his grasp. He could practically feel her under his skin he was so close. But he couldn't find her and it was killing him.
Sweat once again trickled down his spine. Robin decided to get rid of the t-shirt. He pulled it off and tossed it aside, knocking a drapery to the ground. It revealed an immaculately made mirror. It was the sun and its reflective surface carried an image far less pleasant than the outlaw and savior's reflection.
The face held eyes blacker than the night itself. A chiseled chin was decorated with black hair elegantly shaved so that it resembled a crown. The nose was slightly crooked, as though it had been broken a few times in youth. But it was the horrible scar that cut directly through his left eye that truly gave him away.
"Rothbart," Emma growled.
The savior had sparks of flame flickering her fingertips. She raced to stand directly by the outlaw's side. Her blonde locks viciously hid their enemy away. Robin had to pull her back just to see the hateful man's face.
"I'm not interrupting, am I?" Rothbart asked, "I know how precious alone time with a would-be-king can be. Is the savior now vying for your affections? I'm certain the prospect of becoming queen would be flattering to her, but I'm off the market."
Robin's blood boiled.
"Yuck," Emma said, "Robin's not my type."
"She prefers devilishly handsome pirates."
Robin and Emma turned to one in stunned disbelief. Together they watched as Captain Hook descended the vault's elegant stairs. He stood before the mirror, his hook gleaming dangerously.
"Ah," Rothbart said, "The pirate in question. How was your journey into the cliffs? Regina told me you weren't pleased with her little show."
Hook's jaw worked itself into a frenzy. His right hand moved to sharpen his hook. A cheeky grin and quick quirk of the eyebrow began to dawn his face.
"I've got a few improvements I would like to discuss with you," Hook said, "be happy to discuss without the safety of that magicked glass any time."
Rothbart didn't even look fazed. He simply rolled his black eyes and turned to glower at Robin. The outlaw stepped forward, his spine straight and his muscles bristling. He felt his fingertips burn with pent up rage. By the smell of burning cloth, he clearly wasn't keeping the flames in well.
"What do you want you villain?" Robin asked.
"It's simple really," Rothbart smiled, "I want what is rightfully mine."
"You're fight is with me, Rothbart. Let her go!"
Robin saw her. It was barely a glimpse and Rothbart's atrocious features filled much too much of the mirror's surface. But he could see her raven hair in the distance. He knew if only because he would recognize those wild curls anywhere.
"Indeed," Rothbart said, "I'm tired of her endless suffering at your hands!"
Robin saw red. What happened next he could never be certain. He only knew that his vision became nothing but red hot flames and when he blinked the entire vault was on fire. Emma and Hook both worked to rid the place of the flames and Robin could only sneer at his enemy. His two hands rose through the air. He brought them down without once breaking eye contact with his enemy. The fire died and all was restored.
"Impressive," Rothbart said, "You fixed a tantrum. You have shown me the error of my ways and now I know for certain that you truly deserve to be king of my kingdom!"
Once the raging breath left the enemy's lungs, Rothbart's face contorted into another sleazy grin. His black eyes turned blue with glee. His spine straightened ever so slightly. The pronounced scar on his left eye faded slightly.
"I propose a meet," Rothbart said, "A negotiation of your surrender. You give me what I want and I'm certain we can come to some agreement. Somewhere where eager ears won't be keen to listen."
"No Robin," Hook said, "Regina said-"
Robin interrupted the pirate without a second thought.
"Where?"
"Where else?" Rothbart said, "Our beloved queen's apple tree. Come alone."
The image of his face disappeared before Robin could even hope to reply. Instead he got one last look at his beautiful queen. She was leaning heavily against a cavern wall. Her brown eyes were glazed and sweat trickled down her flushed olive cheeks. Then the image died before more could be observed.
The impenetrable silence of the vault filled everything. Robin could feel his mind refusing to move beyond the last image seen. His queen looked in pain. Her whole body was shaking. He couldn't tell but she looked too weak to stand on her own. The gleam of defiance had died in her eyes.
"You can't do this, mate."
Naturally it would be the pirate to interrupt the suffocating silence.
"Regina was very specific to the prince and me," Hook said, "There will be no parlay. David didn't understand it at the time but I did and I am telling you now. You cannot do this. She's… You can't… True Love is sacrifice, remember?"
Robin was not the only one who winced at that wicked reminder. Emma had flinched so bad she almost derailed Hook's desperation immediately. But the pirate was determined to finish this. He stepped forward to better connect with him.
"You can't let it be in vain!" Hook begged.
Robin was too enraged by the implication to connect the dots. Instead he was forced to witness the proverbial light bulb go off right over the savior's head. Her green eyes once again turned glassy with tears. She stepped forward with fear the only emotion playing on her features.
"What do you mean?" Emma asked, "Killian, what do you mean by sacrifice? What is Regina sacrificing?"
Her heart.
The thought nearly put him to the ground, but Robin knew it was the truth. His beautiful, precious Regina was going to make the ultimate sacrifice. She was going to give herself for his freedom. Rothbart wanted her to be his queen, his proof of deserving the damn eternal crown. She was the true owner of the Crown of Immortality and should he marry her… he would finally be the unquestionable king.
"I have to go," Robin said.
Hook wanted to argue. He could see it on the pirate's face. It was probably why the man even bothered to come at all. He knew what lengths one would journey for True Love and revenge. Robin wouldn't stop until Regina was safe.
Rothbart wouldn't stop until Robin was dead.
"Aye," Hook agreed slowly, caution and defeat the only sounds in his voice, "But not alone. Swan and I will see it to the end. As we always have with you two."
Robin didn't bother to argue. He lacked the energy and he could barely grow the emotion to care. He simply sat down and wished for another way.
Storybrooke – Now
It wasn't exactly a fruitful search. So far everything was coming up empty. Emma could feel the magic in the air and often wondered how anybody could even breathe with all the electricity going around. And it was so sticky sweet that it practically plugged the nostrils with its molasses stench.
The sheriff rolled her eyes and stifled her own dramatic sigh. Yet another search through the witch's cupboards and all she had to show for it was a bunch of dusty plates and broken glasses. Even Zelena's favorite mug had a crack in it from mouth to bottom right along the curved handle.
World's best Mom, Emma nearly laughed at the thought, yeah if you give away your child because she doesn't love you as much as your little sister.
Sure she probably shouldn't have felt so bitter. She did after all give up her own son but that was to give him his best chance. And she didn't try to kill the person who adopted her child before and after he was born. Granted she probably would have if she had known the person who adopted him was Regina, the woman single-handedly responsible for twenty-eight years believing herself alone and an unloved orphan in the world.
But that was a long time ago and too many things had changed. The wicked witch seemed eager to be her mother's daughter in every way possible. Emma often wondered how the mayor could even forgive her such trespasses.
Of course, Mary-Margaret Blanche-Nolan was famous for doing the exact same thing to a certain former Evil Queen turned redeemed hero.
"You would think the queen's sister would be just as meticulously tidy," Odette said.
Emma snorted in response. Then the words caught up to her. Just as the sheriff was about to say something further, the girl decided to speak.
"What's the point in leaving so much dust?"
That was the ticket. The girl had a point. If you were going to frame somebody for murder, why hide any trace of them? It wasn't a very clever idea. Zelena was the perfect candidate for a cover-up. She lacked the discipline or the care to be delicate. She couldn't even hide her wicked plans without gloating about how much smarter than everybody else.
It was a very reliable Mills trait that one.
"I don't know," Emma said, "Maybe to make certain the evidence remained cold."
"Or," Odette said, "It was to hide something valuable in plain sight!"
The sheriff turned around to find the girl pointing at the dining room table. The layers of dust matched those belonging to the rest of the house. Even the carpet looked in need of a good vacuum.
But the legs of the table were a whole different matter entirely.
Storybrooke – Then
The Town Hall stood tall against the field of perfectly trimmed trees. Its hedges were expertly cut into precise squares. The flags mirrored each other in symmetrical design against pristine white columns. Three red doors stood out in stark contrast to the yellow paint of the exterior. It looked far more inviting on the outside, cheery and gay while the inside was dark and crisp.
The drive circled to the front with relative ease. Emma placed her yellow bug in park, parking brake deployed in case of unexpected travel. Hook handed him his bow and arrows. Green and ocean eyes turned to him with twin looks of argument.
"He said alone," Robin replied.
Both opened their mouths to argue but the outlaw merely closed the door upon them. He fastened his quiver to his shoulder. He looped his arm through his bow. His strides were determined as he ventured to his destination, behind the cheery yellow building.
Rothbart was already standing there, under Regina's tree. It was a gift from her father. One of many the outlaw knew her father was prone to spoil when he could. So it was incredibly insulting to see Lord Rothbart sitting on the queen's bench under the queen's tree holding one of the queen's apples in his palm.
Robin had to take a deep breath to steady his nerves.
"I see you can follow simple instructions," Rothbart said, "But you won't be needing those."
With a lazy wave of his right hand the bow and quiver were gone.
"Come," he said, "Sit. Let us talk like men."
"I prefer to stand and talk eye to eye like a real man," Robin replied.
The older man's face fell a bit. His plastered on smile vanished without a trace. His blue eyes flashed black for a moment. His voice was steel when next he spoke.
"Further proof how inappropriate you are for the throne. So much belief has been wasted in hoping for your return. My subjects will soon know their place. You won't have to worry about them for much longer."
"Your kingdom is not why I am here," Robin said, "I have no interest in your stupid crown nor the birthright to claim it. You can have it for all I care and shove it wherever you wish. I only care about one thing. Where is Regina?"
"Safe," Rothbart replied, "And so long as you wish for her you are a threat to my crown."
The sorcerer stood to his full height, head and eyes even with Robin's own. His blue eyes were now permanently black and his elongated scar stood out upon his face. He stepped forward with calculation. He was calmed and measured with every step.
"I must admit," Rothbart said, "I was surprised to see you… alive. I thought my men had rid me of you long ago. But alas, here you are and we are once again at war."
"I have no interest in war," Robin said, "I only want her…"
"And your children?" The sorcerer asked, "What of them? Would you want them to grow as you have… without their parents? To deny them the simple joys of growing up with a mother and father to love them and teach them the difference between what is right and what is wrong?"
Robin ground his teeth. The rage filled his every bone. His muscles tremored with the force of it. Nausea nearly forced its way up his throat as the worry twisted and turned his poor stomach. Somehow he managed to stifle his body's attack.
"I didn't think so," Rothbart said, "I can see you have tried to be better than your father. You have raised your children yourself. You haven't denied them. You don't want to see all of your hard work ground to dust where you stood."
"Watching them scream and beg for mercy I will be unable to give. To have me rip the very heart of the young boy barely in school who dares to call you Papa with his innocent grin. Or watch the wee babe struggle to breathe as I step onto her little chest and press down with all my might."
"Then there's the queen's child. I'm afraid of what I must do to him. He is but a young man and so well-behaved for his mother who raised him mostly by herself while you were off ransacking villages and raping the lands of your own kind. What if he were to stand with you… against me? My beloved queen would be devastated to see her precious son murdered by my hand."
"Enough!"
Robin couldn't breathe. The images the madman painted were too real, too frightening to behold. Even with Emma's magic protecting them, his children were doomed to a fate worse than death. Rothbart wouldn't stop until their lives were ruined. He would do everything he could to make certain he got his crown killing children didn't even faze him.
"What do you want me to do?" The outlaw asked.
The smile on the madman's lips stretched wide. It was not inviting nor would it ever be anything more than sinister and grotesque. It symbolized a great victory and Robin was powerless to stop it. For his children he would do anything and this man, this enemy from his past knew it all.
"You will go to your men," he said, "You will stand before them and denounce your claim on the royal line. You will state that you are not nor will you ever be the rightful heir of King William of Fantasia through his only child Odette Queen of the Swans and her union with King Richard the Lionheart."
"You will bid them to accept me as their true king and you will admit yourself a fool before the crowd. The crown is mine and you have no right to it. You will call yourself nothing more than a common criminal, a thief who dared set his sights far beyond his reach, a reach that exceeded well beyond the stars. You will admit all of this before the men who dare ask you to lead…"
"And you will admit that Queen Regina is not your soulmate but mine," Rothbart finished coolly.
Robin felt his heart shatter. A single tear fell from his right eye. It slid down his cheek and under his wavering chin. The rage from before was gone. All hope was gone.
"Do this," the madman said, "and your children will live."
What more could he say? There was nothing he could do. For Roland and Cora he would do anything and for Henry he would shatter the world.
"Deal."
Storybrooke – Now
Emma's first impulse was to think of every wonderful thing that happened in her light. She felt the nice tingle of warmth envelope her hands and wrists. Her fingertips flexed with the wonderful sensations of light magic.
Just as she was about to unleash a slew of her power, Odette's raven hair caught her eye. Large blue eyes begged her not to proceed. Her lips moved to form the word "magic". Emma felt her mind stutter with confusion.
The girl merely rolled her eyes.
"There are protection spells that warn a person of another witch's presence," she said.
The sheriff rolled her eyes this time. Of course that would be the girl's worry. Her magic fizzled away from her fingertips.
"Well how exactly do you suppose we take care of it?" Emma asked.
"We push it."
Emma smacked herself on the forehead, repeatedly. Then she looked at the table and her scrawny partner in crime. It wasn't exactly impossible. They both were wearing jeans and a perfectly good pair of boots. Picking up the table should have been a piece of cake.
It was. All they had left was the carpet which too came up with relative ease. It was the floorboards that posed a problem.
They were hardwood. Their construction was perfect. The nails hadn't even had time to rust or even begin to budge an inch. And because they were in Zelena's farmhouse there wasn't a single tool to use. They were pretty much screwed.
"Got any more bright ideas?" Emma said and she tried her damnedest not to sound condescending.
Apparently she failed.
Odette rolled her eyes. She pushed her hands high into the air. Then she pulled them down quickly. Two black spades appeared out of thin air.
"You said no magic," Emma complained.
"No," the girl replied, "I said that whatever possible secret passageway would have a protection spell that could probably detect magic. I said nothing about using magic to create tools for better use."
She gave a cheeky grin that was Killian Jones all the way. She threw a spade to the sheriff. Then she proceeded to dig into the floorboards with happy vigor.
Reluctantly, Emma followed close behind.
Storybrooke – Then
The forest was abuzz with activity. Merry Men of all shapes and sizes sprinted about. Some were depositing water into the horse trough. Some were gathering wood for the campfire. Others were busy sharpening weapons and carving new arrows. So it was only natural that Little John would be the first to notice their leader had returned to the camp.
"Robin, what happened?" The big man asked, "Where's Regina?"
Robin's eyes automatically closed against the queen's name. His heart ached for her and all that he would miss. His sorrow reached well beyond the natural end. He could feel his whole soul beat against his chest, begging him not to do what must be done.
"No," John said and he sounded absolutely defeated, "She can't be dead. The prince would have told us. Unless… no! Robin, tell me it isn't true."
Robin had to bite down hard on his tongue. He wanted to scream. He wanted to shout obscenities and grumble about how unfair life seemed. This was supposed to be his second chance, at life and at love. He was supposed to finally live the dream he always wanted. He was supposed to give Regina her happy ending and instead… Instead they were forced to lose everything.
Not everything, he thought bitterly, I'm doing this for the children.
"Men," he called, "Gather round. I have something important to tell you."
The outlaw felt bile once again rise to his throat. His mouth filled with the bitter taste of defeat. He pinched the bridge of his nose to keep his thoughts at bay. His children were his life and for Regina it was the same. She would never hate him for this and he would never hate her should their fortunes have been reversed. Had they both not battled so hard to be together, the sting of this betrayal would not be so harsh.
He watched as his men gathered together. They came as a flock from the trees, quadrupling their size within seconds. The young ones still wore happy faces. They were unfamiliar with orders being for anything more than a jovial fight. But the older ones, the ones who had fought with him from the very beginning, they knew well beyond their aged years. Their happy faces dropped to match that of Little John's. Worry and fear; those were the looks upon their faces. Some already had tears in their eyes.
"Robin, don't do this," Emma whispered.
She and Hook stood on either flank. Both wore somber expressions that made the younglings look twice. Their hunched shoulders and defeatist vibe showered down upon the merriest of men. Robin hoisted himself upon a log to better address the masses.
"Men," Robin began, "I have called you all for one purpose, and one alone."
The outlaw took note of how much his men had grown. Some had never experienced life under the rule of the Evil Queen. They had joined after the second curse when stripped from their land and no idea of where else to go. They had never known anything more than stories of the atrocities of a woman who lost love at the hands of someone meant to protect her. They instead had fought for and beside her on many occasions, befriending her as if the fables they cut their teeth upon were nothing more than stories for babes.
"Regina," Robin's voice broke even as he spoke her name, "Her majesty the queen will not be returning to us."
At that many young faces fell. The older ones began to weep openly. Tears streaked manly cheeks, catching in thick curly beards and dissolving into still more tears. Little John and Tuck, the two men who had known the queen both evil and light, bowed their heads in silent prayer.
"Do not fret," Robin felt inclined to say, "For she is not dead. She is very much alive and we should not mourn her. But she will no longer be battling beside me… beside us. She is now… You know of whom she has been captured."
The men nodded despite knowing more than that. Angry scowls replaced tearful sorrow. Some even dared pick up their weapons and shout out words intended for battle. Robin had to be quick. He could not allow his men to give Rothbart any cause of alarm.
"Rothbart and I have come to an agreement," he said to the outrage of the crowd, "He threatened my children… our children. I am willing to risk my life for many things but I will die before I let that madman so much as hurt one head on any of Regina's children, my children!"
He took a moment to breathe. Back went the fear and the anger. Only emptiness remained.
"But a deal has been struck and I must follow through," Robin said, "The first is easily given. I denounce the throne or any claim I may have had upon it. Though I doubt I am or ever was the true son of King Richard the Lionheart…"
"All hail King Richard the Lionheart!" His men shouted.
"Aye," Robin nodded, "A good king and a greater man you will never see again."
He smiled.
"Though Henry seems to be giving him a good run for his money."
The men laughed exactly as predicted. Some even gave out three cheers for the little prince they adopted as their own. Robin took a moment to find a small proud smile gracing the savior's lips. Henry's birth mother was fighting back her sorrow just as beautifully as her best friend. The queen would be proud.
"I am not," Robin said, "Nor have I ever been the heir apparent of Princess Odette, daughter of King William and Queen of the Swans as the stories have told. I have no inherit claim on the royal line of Fantasia nor do I want it. To deny a kingdom is of no importance to me."
His men looked stunned. Only John and Tuck were left to share looks of concern. The young men had mouths agape in wide horror, gazing upon their leader as if he had spontaneously grown another head. Even Will Scarlet couldn't hide his shock. But John and Tuck knew him too well. They were hanging on his every word, waiting for the moment their despair would be realized.
"I am a thief," he said, "and damn proud to call myself one of the most wanted outlaws in history. The only person whose posters dared to challenge me in number was that of Snow White and though she gave me a good run for the honor, the Evil Queen still wanted my hide for better or worse."
"And other unsavory things," one of the younglings muttered.
The group laughed and goaded their leader, jesting at fond memories of their spicy queen. But soon the laughter died when they saw their leader's face. They all pointed and stared upon him as if he were dead again. He was certain he felt it.
"Speaking of Regina," Robin said.
His voice cracked. Air failed to fill his lungs. The harsh sting of tears threatened both of his blue eyes. He could feel his cheeks flare with angry heat.
"I must," he said, "denounce… I… I… My claim… to her…"
Robin couldn't do it. His body and soul were begging him not to. His heart hammered violently against his chest. His blood pumped at an excruciating rate. Sweat poured down his brow. He couldn't breathe. The world was spinning all around.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't disclaim her. He couldn't deny his love for her. Regina was his soulmate. They were bonded by far more than any True Love had ever reached before. Their love surpassed death and united their souls forever.
Yet what other choice did he have?
"I…"
"Wait!"
Storybrooke – Now
They were right. The table was hiding something. A very big, blatantly obvious something; a black metal door stood in stark contrast to the light honey of the hardwood floors. It bore the crest of a rearing lion and nothing else.
Odette scowled at the crest before she moved to take the spade to the lock.
"Hold it," Emma said, "Magical protection means this probably isn't an easy lock to break."
The girl gave her a hideous look. She growled quite impressively before shoving the spade to the ground. She stooped low to study the lock. Her delicate fingers reached into her raven hair, removing a perfectly wonderful bobby pin and then another for good measure. Together she combined the hair pieces to create a make-shift lock picking kit.
The lock popped without protest.
"All about the tumblers," the girl grinned.
Emma watched the girl with hawk-like vision. She observed every pull her grin had on her features. She could make out soft divots in the olive cheeks. Her forehead stretched on for miles as her perfect, prim, pearly teeth took over every inch of her face. Her blue eyes lit up like the noon sky with full sun.
She looked beautiful.
"So," Odette sounded breathless as she spoke, "Are we going down or waiting for back-up?"
The sheriff could only blink in surprise. Somehow the small girl already had twin metal doors opened wide. Their black coloring gleamed in the harsh sunlight. A giant black hole now stood between them. If not for the impressive pull of magic, Emma Swan would have dismissed it as a steep drop. Now she was aware of just how cold and sinister the magic felt on her skin.
It was also way too familiar.
"This magic," Emma said, "I've felt it before. Where?"
Odette's blue eyes clouded over with concern. A slight crease appeared in her forehead. Her bottom lip trembled slightly. Her hands shook before she suddenly found control. One breath and she was back to normal yet again.
"It's Rothbart," the girl explained, "His magic feels like ice ripping at your throat, doesn't it?"
Emma could only nod. Every awful thought she'd ever had was pounding away at her skull. She could feel all hope dissolving away.
"Is it a spell?" She asked.
Odette shook her head.
"That's what dark magic feels like," she said.
The sheriff was quick to ignore the sense of dread and panic flaring in her soul. She took one giant gulp of breath, watching as the girl descended the stairs with ease. Then Emma Swan followed.
Storybrooke – Then
"Prince David, why are you here?"
Robin looked up in time to see Prince Charming was indeed in the camp. He walked towards the outlaws, his jean clad legs beating with determination. His flannel shirt creased with every step he took. His black leather jacket hung limp in his right hand dragging on the earth below. And his sheriff's badge was nowhere to be found, his holster too missing from view.
"Robin," Charming said.
He sounded breathless, like he had been running to their very camp for one specific purpose. It was then the rings of sweat became clear around his neck and armpits. His chest heaved in and out in desperate search of air. His face was blotchy, hair unkempt.
"Zelena," the prince said, "she came to Snow… Regina's in the Cave of Wonders. Part of the mines below… Snow, Henry and the dwarves are going there now."
"You let Henry go?" Robin couldn't believe the man.
"No choice," David huffed, "Gold said he was the only one to find it… It had to be him… The author gives him special powers… or… something."
Charming almost pitched forward. His head found home between his legs. His breath came in short sharp rasps. His whole body weaved up and down. He could barely stand let alone convey any other messages.
"Dad," Emma said, "You need to sit."
The prince fell to the ground at his daughter's urging. Several of the younglings ran to assist in some capacity. They looked pained at the prince's condition.
Except they weren't.
Despite the wild hair and the engorged stomach, Little John was a sensitive soul. He could barely hurt a fly unless it was to protect the people he loved most in all the world. Now he wore an expression of cold fury Robin had never seen before. It was almost as daunting as Tuck's expression.
The former Friar was almost as kindhearted as his bulky friend. Fat from age and muscled from years in Sherwood, the infamous Friar Tuck still maintained a bald cap for his religion. He carried with him a rosary and bible every day. There was never a time when he was without the precious book. And he had it out right now, slamming it hard into a fallen tree stump and cursing the very lord he worshipped.
"Of all the horrible, vicious, low things to do," he bellowed, "This is by far the worst curse imaginable."
His good book slammed onto the ground in a heap. He kicked dirt at it, flung soil and spit to show his opinion. Then he pulled out his rosary and dropped to his knees. His head bent low in prayer and he remained unmoved.
"Dear lord please don't let it be the cave of wonders," he said.
Robin felt his heart squeeze. Will Scarlet's head was also stooped deep in prayer, falling to his knees beside the friar. Several of the younger men; Alan, Much, Grantham, Herald, Scott, did the same. They were all drawing crosses on their chests and prayer to a deity who seemed to have left them long ago.
"John," Robin said.
His best friend and second in command shook his head. His beady eyes were blown wide with panic. He stepped away, head still shaking in earnest. A sudden wave of guilt filled Robin Hood's heart. He quickly stamped down in favor of the growing heart in his lungs, the anger that refused to recede.
"Tell me," he begged.
John's eyes closed in misery. A lonely tear fell down his bearded cheek. Robin watched as it fell into black depths of wild hair, sticks and leaves. It was bizarre to find his first thought was not of comfort, but that he was in desperate need of a bath.
"It was while you were…" Little John gulped as he struggled with his own knowledge, "Many men died when we tried to escape its clutches. Only a small few of us were able to escape at all and we were already few when we made the journey."
"We thought it would bring ya back, Robin," Will shrugged, "We had to try fer tha lad. We failed and swore ne'er to speak o' it again."
"But that was in the Enchanted Forest," Tuck said, "and only a rare soul can enter to begin with. We were lucky with Will at our side. This is not the same. Magic is…"
"Different here," Robin groaned.
He fell to his knees. His heart raced in despair. Rothbart was true to his word. His children were indeed going to suffer. He had already lost Henry. Even if he tried there was no guarantee he would enter at all. There was only one hope left.
"Men!" Robin called.
He stood up tall on the closest boulder he could find. His frantic men, struggling to aid the prince and princess with all their might, paused to stare. Robin Hood raised his arms to them in surrender. Understanding finally dawned.
"The second part of Rothbart's demands will set us free," he said, "For it is the very thing that will save my children… He wants me to deny my claim on Regina and for her children I must do it. I deny any entitlement to her…"
His voice broke. His heart broke. His eyes flooded with unshed tears. A giant pain threatened to engulf his entire soul. His breath fell short and his throat closed.
Needles pricked and prickled his blood. Glass shards of ice infiltrated his spine. His world spun and spun and everything burned.
An image of Regina appeared, screaming and calling out for him in despair. There were no tears spouting from her eyes but he could see pain written plainly on her face. He could feel her heart's pace slowing down to a vicious crawl. Her skin became deathly pale. Her eyes dulled along with her life.
And Rothbart was licking his lips in anticipation.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't grant him this. Not if it meant losing her completely.
Robin Hood blinked away the pain to find himself once again towering over his men. The scowls on their faces brought a small smile to his. Despite the way they began, his men were insanely protective of their queen now. Every argument, every opinion she gave, every single order she spoke was to their agreement. Never, not since his first True Love Marian, had the men ever took a side other than Robin's. Only Queen Regina could waltz into a camp full of men and force them to obey.
That alone spoke volumes about his Merry Band of Thieves.
A chuckle erupted from the outlaw's mouth. It baffled his men and only seemed to make his chuckling louder, harder. He bent with the laughter filling his stomach. He couldn't fight the happy pull even if he wanted to.
"To that I agree," Robin said, "I have no claim on her nor have I ever. Regina is my light, my soul and I have never begged from her anything she was unwilling to give… except her temper but what else can you expect from the former Evil Queen?"
He laughed harder at his own joke. The men seemed in awe and not in a good way. Many of them stared slack-jawed and open-mouthed. Emma's green eyes were blown wide in fright, matching Little John's blazing panic perfectly. Tuck seemed compelled to prayer harder, mumbling softly and moaning for pity in all kinds of ways. Even Prince Charming was shocked to find the outlaw so brazenly crazy and ill-composed.
But there was a proud smirk blooming on Captain Hook's face, understanding in his ocean blue eyes.
"That fool believes I own her!" Robin said, "He thinks that she is with me out of obligation or by law… that she is my property to give and take as I please!"
The laughing didn't stop. For him it just continued to dissolve into more and more madness. He could see the pity in his men's gazes, the fear. He wanted to appease their suffering. He wanted to explain the relief he suddenly felt at his one loophole, his saving grace.
Robin Hood did not own Regina Mills.
"But I am hers just as much as she is mine," he said, "I love her and that is all the difference. Our souls were bound long before our hearts and Rothbart is an absolute idiot if he thinks he can take that away from me… from her. I am just as much a part of her as she is of me. I claim nothing!"
"I don't have to. Regina is not mine to take… to give. She is free to choose and until proven otherwise she for some reason has chosen me countless times. I've betrayed her in the worst way… Dismissed her time and again. Hell, I even died for that insufferable woman and she still refused to let me go… Chose to forgive me my mistakes."
Robin felt the laughter die. His understanding suddenly came to a whole new level. His love for her spoke loud and clear. She was his and he hers. His eyes landed on the only mirror in the camp.
"So Lord Rothbart may take Fantasia if he so pleases," Robin said, "and he may do with it whatever he wishes. But know this… I will fight to my very last breath to give my queen her freedom. Because true love is sacrifice and I will always pay any price for her!"
His men cheered. They were already brandishing weapons, distributing them through the crowd. There wasn't a dry eye under the forest canopy. They were grunting and cheering, preparing for a glorious war. Robin Hood's Merry Men were going to fight for their queen.
"Oooh, I quiver with fear," Rothbart said.
Storybrooke – Now
The pathway was in complete darkness, as cliché as that was. Emma almost rolled her eyes at the stereotype. The only thing stopping her from indulging in the very action was her fear. The last thing she wanted was to miss a step and fall to her death, or kill the brunette in front of her.
Odette's silhouette had completely disappeared. Emma could barely make out the green glow of her leather jacket. It was nearly impossible to distinguish wall from stair. The sheriff found her head erupting in pain the further down they went.
Coldness seeped into her bones, hungry for the warmth in her heart. Her narrowed eyes struggled to find something to see. The action alone was building pressure behind her eyeballs.
"Oh screw it."
The thin voice was filled with frustration and acceptance. A sudden light filtered through the air. Emma had to blink in order to see but when she did, it was not an image she would ever forget again.
In Odette's palm sat a ball of white fire. It filtered light on every crevice in the blasted staircase, revealing black onyx walls of black pearl and marble. There wasn't an inch free of rich and gaudy blackness and the stairs stretched on and on for a seeming eternity.
Emma whistled. Even Regina's tastes when the Evil Queen weren't as lavish as this. Of course, even at her worst the mayor wasn't one interested in power; only revenge.
"What's with all the lions ever five seconds?" The sheriff couldn't help but ask.
She noticed the girl glaring at the markings in rich stone. Her left hand, devoid of the fireball, reached forward to caress one of those lion sentries. There was a soft smile that tried to appear on its face, but a quivering lip soon forced it to disappear.
"Rothbart," she said, "He had a thing for reminding everyone he's royalty."
Emma frowned. She didn't remember much of the tale but she was positive Rothbart was a lord not a king. She sorted through her knowledge of fairy tales and her own family tree in hopes of understanding. When no answer popped up she was forced to admit defeat.
"Royalty?" She asked, "Like he hates you because he's supposed to be king?"
Odette's reply was a gentle nod. She then turned on the stairs to stare at the sheriff with sad blue eyes. The sorrow on her face made her look remarkably similar to another royalty bent in sadness and despair. Emma swallowed away her emotions and chose to ignore the Killian's niggling thoughts of the girl's possible relationship with them.
"Rothbart is…" Odette paused to curbed her tongue, "He was a lord favored by many. But a great tragedy forced him into darkness."
"He blamed your father for what happened?" Emma asked.
Odette shook her head and continued walking.
"No," she said, "he blames my father for taking his happiness away"
The sheriff found herself once again confused. The Enchanted Forest was full of too many stories and she could never hope to keep up. This was just another example of the life she would never get used to.
"Did he?" Emma asked.
"Yes," Odette replied.
A sick sense of dread filled the sheriff's heart.
"It's funny," Odette continued as if no break had ever come to pass, "I've been told by all of my aunts and uncles that my father never wanted any of this… But Rothbart hurt far too many people. He had to be stopped, Emma."
"And now he's cursed an entire realm."
"Realms," Odette argued, "as in several. All for his own selfish pride."
That stopped Emma's heart cold. A small chill began to creep up her spine. She stopped walking and simply watched the girl continue on her journey to the unknown. She seemed oblivious to the sheriff's torture.
Emma couldn't name the emotions barreling in her chest. She only felt them hammering hard on her senses and begging to be free. Her mind was a black hole of flashing images and they were gone before she could even grasp them.
"Emma, what's wrong?"
The sheriff blinked.
She was on the stairs still, but the steps were pressing hard into her back. Her blonde hair surrounded her head at all sorts of odd angles. Her neck hurt and something soft kept a firm hold on her skull. She looked up and was stunned to find the girl supporting her head in her own hands, both of them.
The fireball glowed strangely above their heads. It just stayed in the sky without anything supporting it. Though if the sheriff squinted just right she could almost swear there were streaks of purple and blue light pulsing from it.
"Is it Rothbart's magic?" Odette asked, "Is it making you ill? We can always come back later."
Emma frowned at the strange girl's questions. The girl knew better. She had to. They didn't have time to leave and if they did there was no guarantee they would ever find this again. So the sheriff shook her head and sat up.
"No," she said, "We have to keep going."
"Do you need me to call Hook?" the girl asked.
The sheriff's heart soared and she had no idea why. She had already figured out there was something familiar about the girl. Odette even looked familiar and sent mixed emotions all over Emma's heart. But this was the first time the sheriff could ever remember the girl calling her by name.
And the girl called Killian Hook.
"We need to keep going," Emma said, "Rothbart might not be able to detect your magic because of the curse. Let's take advantage of that while we still can.
And this time, it was the savior who led the way.
Storybrooke – Then
Rothbart appeared in a cloud of his notorious red smoke. Robin Hood watched his men scatter. They pointed their weapons in the sorcerer's direction, ready for battle to commence. It was the outlaw who ordered them to stand down.
Robin walked towards his enemy with calculated steps. Blue eyes were pinned to black. The two stared each other down until they were standing on even footing. The energy buzzing through the air was thick with tension.
"Step down, Rothbart," Robin said his voice like a growl, "I've done as you asked. You need not be here."
Rothbart's expression somehow grew cooler. His angry scowl deepened. His bright red scar glistened with magic. He stepped forward, daring to touch the Prince of Thieves by the lapels of his shirt. Robin felt the sorcerer's magic swirl around him like a wildfire licking every inch of skin.
"You went back on our deal," Rothbart said, "I told you to remove your claim on Queen Regina and you failed to do as I asked. I've already taken one son from you. You only have one left. How many precious lives must I take from you, boy?"
"I have no claim on Regina," Robin said, "Never have. I did not disobey your commands. Release Henry and my men will not shoot you."
"The little prince has made his decision. I cannot change it now even if I wanted to. They have already entered the Cave of Wonders and will be met with certain doom. Denounce Regina and I will let your men live."
"Step down, Rothbart," Robin said, "You're outnumbered."
At this the madman did look at the growing crowd. The many weapons gleamed in the soft rays of setting sunlight. Axes, swords and arrows all pointed towards his head. Robin didn't even have to look to know Hook, Charming and Emma stood front and center with their favorite weapons drawn. He could tell simply by the way sweat fell upon Rothbart's brow.
"Indeed," the madman said, "One problem though."
He flicked his wrist and they were surrounded in darkness. Forms popped up from the earth. Shadows joined the parade. Anything that held darkness and despair merged to form a whole army of black armored men. Their black chests gleamed with the rearing lion.
"They think I'm king," Rothbart said, "And as long as that may be… You will never have my queen. Attack!"
Robin scowled as the coward disappeared. He quickly grabbed his bow and quiver. Arrows rained down on the mindless oafs but they still stepped forward in uniform. There was no deviation. Their spears only lowered and the swords came out to play.
The battle had begun.
Storybrooke – Now
The light of the fireball stretched on and on until it finally stopped. It fell upon a giant marble wall with one silly black pearl door. Yet another rearing lion was stretched out upon a crest of pure, glistening black. Emma was getting sick of the motif. She would rather have faced a real lion at this point and was almost disappointed she didn't.
The sheriff stepped forward as she had always done. She reached out her hand to touch the handle. A great searing cold crept up her fingertips. Everything went extremely numb until a blaring, ice cold pain filled her every breath. She pulled her head away and was surprised to find ice had formed on her fingertips.
"Let me try," Odette suggested.
Emma rolled her eyes but allowed the girl to do it anyway. Sure enough, the door opened without a single bit of hesitance. The sheriff silently wondered what kind of magic was in the girl's veins. Sure she was powerful enough to create white fire but how could she break a protection spell that strong?
The questions stopped when both women walked through the door.
It was a grand palace of black stone. The white light filtered through every nook and cranny until it met wall, and there were allot of walls. Black torches hung every eight feet or so on every wall. Emma closed her eyes, focused on every hate filled memory she had and waved her hand. The torches sprang to life happily.
The sheriff was quick to grab the one closest to her right.
"Let's split up," she said, "I'll take the right. You go left. Shout if you need any help."
She didn't even need to look to see the girl's smile in agreement. Odette's blue eyes seemed to shine at the trust bestowed. A small smile flittered across her features before quickly being stemmed down by the girl's own stubbornness.
She turned away before Emma could psychoanalyze it. So the sheriff simply shrugged her shoulders and walked to the right. She tried her best to ignore the giddiness enveloping every blood vessel she had but it was impossible to ignore.
The smile didn't go away no matter which corridor she walked through. Even when the black lions disappeared and black stoned gargoyles began to take up space, Emma Swan's smile refused to disappear. She felt whole once more, or almost there at least. The weight she carried since she woke up to find no Henry, her mother and brother gone, and her best friend once more plunged into total darkness, was gone. She could breathe again.
It was no surprise that the feeling stopped when she was presented with a familiar sight. The room looked exactly the same as Regina's vault. There were shelves upon shelves of magical items placed in pristine order.
Cobwebs stretched in artful décor around the ceiling, which held a giant black obsidian chandelier. With a snap of Emma's finger the chandelier came to life and cast a strange angelic glow all over the place. A black cauldron sat on a monument between two horns on the right. There was a black marble statue of a stag on the left. In the middle gargoyles flanked a podium.
Emma stepped forward entranced by the image. A lonely book sat on the podium. It held the silly lion crest upon its front page. The sheriff traced it with her middle fingertip. She was surprised by the warmth that filtered through at the connection. A nice jolt of electricity shop up through the connection, spreading warmth instead of ice.
The book snapped open as if asked.
The sheriff watched as page after page flipped of its own accord. When they landed it was to a page filled with a few lines. It was arranged in typical poetic fashion complete with no line breaks and odd punctuation placement.
Page twenty-three read:
A desperate soul in need of love
the heart of the lion shall belong.
To the light the believer draws
a savior born and a savior gone
at the curse's kiss; true love it is.
The resilient heart turned dark born
the last curse will mark their return.
Sixteen years, moons placed;
the darkness holds a brand new face.
From the mirror, new hope will fade
until all that's lost returns again.
The fight of one is the fight of all.
A king returned; a kingdom falls.
To the shadows will be the last stand
of the tides. A shifting sand
to immortality will be called.
Fight! The anthem blazed.
Two will fall from the haze
and help will light the way.
The wicked too will wilt and lie
At the hands of darkness's new friend
and the beginning too shall be the end.
What gibberish the words meant flew from Emma's mind. She was merely glued to the style. She could sense power behind the poem, power far exceeding that of ordinary stands. The unknown poet, whomever they were, had written down words with magic.
Emma could feel its radiant heat with ease. Its electric touch glowed on her fingertips. She could feel it seeping into her bones and promising her love. It was happiness that fueled these words; light magic. The sheriff could practically hear the smile from the writer's lips as the words were writ.
It was a villain's curse; their enemy's happy end.
The sheriff struggled with the pros and cons of taking that book. She could feel an ancient magic working in its spine, cloying at her wrists in eagerness. She even found herself thinking of Belle and all the things the librarian could discover with this very text.
Emma had finally decided taking it was a good idea. She even looked around the room for a sack to carry it in. She found no black satchel nor a pack to shoulder. So with a shrug deemed herself worthy of scooping the thing into the very nook where elbow met arm.
The warm, happy jolt of electricity kicked her heart rate into high gear. She felt pure bliss fill her very senses and even her burdens melted away. She could gaze upon mantelpiece of the fireplace she hadn't even notice and happily take in the lonesome crown without a care. It was gold, she noted, and had lines shaped like feathers.
It looks cooler when the crowns are together, Emma thought.
The sheriff had no time to ponder her own odd thoughts. A sound filled her with great dread. The book fell to the floor and all happiness was lost.
"Emma!" Odette screamed.
Storybrooke – Then
Robin fought off as many as he could but his men were losing ground. Every time one of the blasted soldiers fell with an arrow to the heart, it rose again to kill another. They only remained dead when their heads were removed, a feat only a few seasoned war heroes could do.
Prince Charming was battling six alone. Captain Hook and Emma Swan were dissolving as many as possible, racing to rescue the savior's father. Little John and Friar Tuck fought closest to him. John's crossbow lay broken a yard away. His scabbard was now covered in black ash. He and Tuck were separating heads from bodies with boisterous ease. Tuck's axe even flung through the air to create a headless army.
The friar ducked under a lethal blow and raised his left hand just in time. The axe returned to save its master. Robin smiled at the silent prayer of thanks to Regina.
His attackers refused to stop. The outlaw could feel their renewed interest in killing him. There blows were harder to block. He could barely jump out of the way of an attack before he was avoiding yet another dangerous strike. His swordsmanship struggled to save him on every turn. More times than he wished his magic was forced to come to the rescue.
Fatigue had set in. He could feel it in his bones. He watched as his men, brave, true and kind, struggled to deliver death blows. The tides were turning and it was not in the Merry Men's favor. Too many shadows. Too little hope. Their strength was outnumbered.
"You're in trouble again, dear nephew," Rothbart said, "Only this time Mummy isn't here to save you."
Robin brandished his sword blindly in search of the madman. Thick red smoke curled every which way making breathing impossible. The outlaw felt a twinge of electricity jolt to his right. He turned, sword reflecting whatever odd magic.
"Good," Rothbart said, "you're learning."
The smoke cleared only to reveal the vile man himself. It was with great pleasure Robin engaged in battle. He gave a great bellow as he mightily swung his sword. He was met with immediate resistance. A sword made of black onyx and diamond gleamed before his eyes. Rothbart's villainous smile appeared behind it.
"Now where have I seen this image before?" Rothbart asked. Both parties were well aware the question was rhetorical. "Oh yes. I remember. This is exactly how your father looked before he died."
Robin dislodged the swords first. The deep seated anger came to a raging boil. He attacked and attacked and Rothbart parried every thrust. He laughed mockingly as the outlaw continued to allow his rage the upper hand.
There was no pause. There was no second thought. There was only the clash of two swords and two enemies thrown deep in a battle of wills and power. Then there was only the victor and his spoils.
Robin knew the moment he lost. His muscles gave way without permission. His sword veered left when he wished it right. Then he was on his knees, black onyx pressed firm against his beating heart.
"Long live the king," Rothbart said.
He pulled his sword away to deliver the final blow. Robin didn't give his mind time to think. He simply forced his muscles into action. He lunged to the side and somehow managed to grab his sword. He forced his arm to rise despite the fatigue and lacking stamina.
With a swish of his wrist a deep crimson blob appeared on Rothbart's chest. A deep red crevice bloomed in the butchered skin. The madman sorcerer stumbled backwards. His black eyes turned blue in complete surprise. His sword fell from his hand. He fell to his knees with Robin's sword claiming his throat.
"Call off your dogs," the outlaw said.
To that the madman merely laughed. His chest continued to pour blood and still he laughed on and on. Black reappeared in his eyes. There was no softness, no defeat. Only madness reigned.
"You think you've won," he said.
Rothbart snapped his fingers and all went to hell. The soldiers of shadow and darkness unarmed each and every man. Emma Swan was held with multiple daggers at her throat and sides. Prince Charming hung limp and lifeless under Hook's watchful gaze. The pirate captain now sported more blood marks than clothes. Most of the Merry Men were now held on the brink of death by various weapons. There wasn't a single enemy that did not hold a friend by the throat.
"You won the battle," Rothbart said, "But not the war. Now I have the queen and your friends. Even if the boy could escape the Cave of Wonders… you still lose."
Robin's hand shook. His men, his brothers in arm, were now at his enemy's mercy. His greatest fear had been realized. Rothbart held all the cards and Robin's will was lost.
His sword plowed into the soft earth below.
"You've won," he said.
Storybrooke – Now
Emma's heart had never beaten so fast. Her feet were running before she could even be aware of what was happening. The only thing she knew was that Odette called for help and she was desperate to get there soon.
She turned around strange corners and crashed into magical objects of various shapes and sizes. She took one turn to sharp and another too slow. Her left shoulder fell into one of the many intricate mirrors of the chamber, smashing it to bits and ripping her jacket in the process.
A flare of fire told the sheriff that glass had embedded in her skin, but she ignored that. All she knew was that she needed to find the girl. Everything else could wait until after she knew Odette was alive.
And Odette needed to be alive.
She almost missed the turn. If not for the suddenly bright white light, she probably would have. But luck seemed to force her hand in the brink of time. She took the unexpected right and plowed straight into a solid form.
Emma fell in time with the very body she crashed into. Both Odette and the sheriff sprawled in a tangle of hair and limbs upon the floor. Emma watched her badge skitter across black onyx into one of the ugly gargoyles before the world went black once more.
Red filled the room first and foremost. Emma had to concentrate on every terrible thing she had ever faced, but the fire continued to build in her palm until it took on a bright yellow tint. Prided flared through the sheriff's heart before she remembered what brought her here in the first place.
"Odette," she shouted.
The girl was nowhere to be found. Despite the light in the room, Emma couldn't find even a trace of the girl in green. The sheriff closed her eyes and forced herself to focus on happier memories.
The flames in her palm flickered for a moment before growing in intensity and heat. The yellow flames grew and grew until they could no longer be contained. Emma threw the flames in every direction, hoping she remembered the location of every torch she had seen.
A few flames missed their target but the room was soon lit with enough light for Emma to rectify her mistake. She saw the indentations in the flickering light and lit every torch in sight. Soon the room was decorated in warmth instead of cold.
The girl popped into view not even six feet away. Emma only had to take two steps before her hands landed on a green clad shoulder. Odette flinched as if burned.
The sheriff instinctively raised her hands in surrender. She allowed her concerned features to relax into a calm smile. She was gentle as she reached towards the girl. She first plunged into soft, raven locks that had a sweet smell to it. Her thumb started massaging behind her left ear, hoping to convey comfort. Blue eyes closed and the girl leaned into the touch.
"Are you alright?" She asked and she was stunned to find her voice filled with so much concern.
Odette's head nodded slowly. Then blue eyes popped open in pure alarm. They shot to take note of the hand rubbing softly behind her ear. Then the girl was gazing into green eyes with too many emotions flittering in them to gleam.
"I'm fine," she said.
The girl pushed her away and struggled to her feet. She took one look at the room and blue eyes rolled up into the back of her head before returning again. She shook her head and immediately pushed a white ball into the air. It hovered on the ceiling, illuminating more space than Emma's many fireballs dared.
"What's wrong?" Emma asked, "I heard you scream. I thought you were in danger!"
The note of anger in her voice was shocking to find. Emma had to carefully reign in her emotions to keep from bashing in the girl's head. She only avoided causing harm because her anger was born out of fear and she didn't know what to think of that.
Odette's throat bobbed up and down in a giant swallow. Her blue eyes began to shoot around the room in search of purchase. Her gaze couldn't help but flicker from one object to another in quick succession and Emma's head spun just watching it. Her green eyes looked down only to find the girl's fingers twirling together nervously.
"I think I found something," the girl said.
Emma nodded her head. She was too afraid to speak. The girl was nervous and her instincts begged her to be quiet. She could feel something prickling up her spine and dared to wait it out.
Finally the blue eyes stopped. They grew wide and frightened on the object that seemed to begging for attention. Odette's entire body froze as she gazed on.
The sheriff turned her head to follow the line of sight. Her vision glazed over the many gargoyles assorted in an orderly row. She ignored the black box and its many wires plunging this way and that. Instead her green eyes found themselves staring at a giant black marble headboard, a rearing lion carved into its crest.
"It's a coffin," Emma realized.
She flinched at the sound of her voice. It sounded cracked and way too frightened to her own ears. A quick look in Odette's direction and she found the girl's eyes closed. A single tear dripped down an olive cheek. Emma was stunned to find her finger already wiping it away.
Odette's blue eyes opened at the contact. She turned her weary head towards the sheriff and sudden longing filled those blue eyes. The communicated a bond that Emma couldn't hope to identify. Then the girl's chest rose and she stepped forward on hesitant steps.
Emma followed as she was certain she always would.
It was as they got closer to the coffin that the sheriff realized her mistake. The headboard was made of ebony, not marble. For some reason the distinction mattered though the sheriff couldn't figure out why. There were many tubes and wires running into and out of the coffin with no resistance.
A flash of white appeared in the sheriff's vision and she was forced to take in more. The coffin was topped with glass just like Snow White's. It was such an odd similarity that her green eyes had to be told to keep moving.
That was when Emma Swan noticed the body locked within.
Odette gasped something odd like "oh mercy" "sweet memory" or "your majesty". Emma was too busy to notice. Her green eyes were distracted by the body in the bed. Her fingers shot out, shooting through the glass as if it wasn't even there at all. She sighed in relief when she felt a pulse.
"Is he…" Odette's voice stuttered to ask, "He's not… is he alright?"
"He has a pulse," Emma said.
The sheriff didn't know what else to do. She could only stare in wonder and awe. Her head felt numb and she was far too stunned for words.
For there, nestled in the softest silk Emma Swan had ever had the pleasure to feel, lay the infamous outlaw Robin Hood.
Storybrooke – Then
"What would you have me do?" Robin asked.
He fell to his knees, palms up. He leaned heavily against the only weapon left to him. The fatigue of battle was taking its toll. He could barely breathe and his stomach kept turning in insufferable cramps. Now his jaw burned with thirst. His sweat seized to be. His skin was fire to touch.
Regina, Robin thought.
It was too late. He could tell by the slowness of his heart. His queen had already succumbed. He could feel her gasping for air. He could feel her skin burning up. If he closed his eyes he would see her one final time.
But she was lost and only Rothbart could save her now.
"You should have listened to me long ago," Rothbart said, "But I am a merciful man."
His bleeding chest no longer spewed its vile liquid. Magic spread from side to side enveloping the skin until it was once again whole and pure. The madman stood to his full height. His left palm filled with red smoke until its intended object appeared.
It was an apple as red as blood.
Robin groaned.
"Apples are a symbol of health and wisdom," Rothbart said.
"Save it," Robin replied, "Regina already showed me."
The madman snarled at Robin's use of the queen's name. Still he did not seem too unsettled by such familiarity. The sorcerer was already aware of their relationship. He already believed Roland and Cora to be shared between them. He did not care about his tarnished goods. Only that she was retribution as his ascension to his throne.
"Your body will be your tomb," Rothbart said, "You will dream of nothing but your biggest regrets… and for you I am certain there are many, thief. But you will taste my forbidden fruit."
"Will you free my men?" Robin asked, scowling all the while, "If I take this curse, will my family be safe?"
For once Rothbart did not look pleased with the question. Instead his face morphed into one of soft kindness. His black eyes turned a stark, crisp blue. His features softened until pure understanding took over. His right hand even offered comfort instead of mocking.
"Regina will be mine," Rothbart said, "but I abhor violence. Your men will be free. Your children will be safe. Of that I will give you my word."
"And if I refuse?" Robin asked.
He knew the answer. He could see the blackness once again taking over. Rothbart's eyes were hollow, soulless pits. His answer was rough and to the point.
"Then all who defy me will die."
Robin took the apple without a second thought. He brought the precious fruit to his lips and stared. Even the smell belonged to her, his queen. He knew this blood red apple's point of origin far better than he wished. Rothbart, the mad sick man that he was, chose the perfect weapon.
This apple came from Regina's apple tree.
"Killian," Robin said.
The pirate's ocean blue eyes turned to him in anticipation. For a moment they turned glassy and began to roll up, but Captain Hook knew how to control himself. He blinked a few times and nodded the outlaw's way.
"Aye Robin," he said.
"Promise me she will never see me like this?"
The pirate nodded and when Robin gave him a stern look an eye roll formed.
"Yes Robin," he said, "I promise she will never… I promise."
"Will," Robin called.
The thief's head peeked above the many knives at his throat. He choked and groaned in pain. But his green eyes fell on him, even one swollen to that of a grapefruit.
"Protect her," he said, "With your life as I have with mine."
"Always Robin," Will said, "Always."
With that Robin Hood bit down on the vicious fruit and closed his eyes.
Storybrooke – Then
"My revenge has finally been made."
Regina felt her heart freeze at the madman's words. Rothbart's greasy voice filled the small chasm that was her home. Regina couldn't help but press her hands tight against the chains around her wrists.
Regina was about to open her mouth with a snarky comment, dry throat be damned. She was about to demand he explain himself so she could put him in his proper place. But fate was a funny, fickle beast and now was no different.
It began as a small crack in her heart, a tiny trace of something breaking deep within. The pain entered her next. It was a quick stab in her back that swiftly enveloped every inch of her beating heart. A shrill white hot pain began to ebb away from her center, spreading until it engulfed the black red organ whole.
The very breath was stolen from her lungs. Her legs gave out completely as the pain continued to spread and tear through limbs and organs without discretion. Her eyes filled with tears before disappearing into an image both comforting and horrifying.
She was in a room of complete darkness. Not even her hands nor clothes were visible, but she could feel them. She fought to rise to her feet. It felt as though great chains decorated every inch of her skin. Her head swam as it tried to figure out which was up and where was down.
Her boots made an odd sound on the ground. They emitted a soft huff as if on marble or tile. They felt weird these boots as if they were threadbare and well worn. At least she was wearing pants and her shirt, though stifling, was relatively comfortable.
A cautious step forward and a soft glow appeared. Bright blue flames flickered in the distance, beckoning her forward. Stepping towards the flames seemed the only option so she obeyed the whim. Her eyes went wide when the flames grew near. She recognized that fire, that sweet sappy warmth invading her senses.
Home.
These flames, this fire that appeared out of nowhere belonged to her and her alone. Her hands were quick to take in their warmth and feel the happiness spread through torso and chest. A movement in the distance caught her eye. A strange flicker forced her to abandon the blue fire's glow. A face of pure bliss met her.
"Robin!" She gasped.
In return the outlaw merely smiled. His cocky smirked inflamed his features. His hand stretched forward in mirror of her own. Cool glass met where their fingertips should have been. Once again they were only able to look but not touch.
"Regina," he whispered in glee.
She blinked and the queen had returned. Rothbart hovered over her, watching her face hungrily. He looked far too pleased with himself. He was feeling bold too, his hand shot out to move an errant hair away from her face. She flinched for his touch was far too warm and unwanted.
Regina swallowed down the giant lump clogging her throat. Delicately she pushed away his hungry hands and tried to rise on wobbly arms. She felt her weak body crash down into the cold, hard cellar floor and silently cursed herself for such weakness.
"What did you do to him?" She moaned.
Her voice wavered and cracked with every word. She could hear the lack of control and the condemning tears. Her mother's voice instantly began to fill her head with wicked thoughts from a time long gone.
Love is weakness, Cora Mills whispered. Then she crushed Daniel's heart and laughed as Regina married the king.
"It matters not my dear," Rothbart said.
Regina glared at the happiness that dared to find home on his face.
"My revenge is complete. We can finally have our happy ending."
The madman's hand once again fell on her face. She was far too weak to fight it away and he was far too aware. He magicked a fresh bowl of water and brought it to her lips.
"Drink," he commanded, "We're free."
Her greedy body no longer wanted to obey its thirst. Her hand shot out and poured the sweet substance down Rothbart's clothes. She watched as his eyes turned black with rage. She didn't even feel the hot slap he gave in return. Her eyes stung because they could no longer produce tears. So she allowed them their reprieve and fell asleep.
In The Next Chapter: Snow and Henry find Regina but that's the easy part of their journey towards saving Robin. Meanwhile, Rothman has a favor to demand of Gold and Mary-Margaret returns to Storybrooke.
