CHAPTER TEN: Secrets and Lies (Emma's POV)
From her vantage point of the overstuffed armchair onto which she'd fallen, Emma watched as the near-stranger claiming to be her daughter blasted Killian with magic before fleeing the library. Killian did not attempt to detain the girl a second time, although he remained in the doorway until the sound of her running footsteps faded away completely. Finally he turned around, lifting his stricken gaze to meet Emma's, his injured hand still tucked beneath his arm. He pressed his lips into a thin line, the muscles in his jaw working worriedly as he waited for her to speak.
Emma studied him uneasily, feeling unnerved by a curiously strong sense of déjà vu. Killian's anguished look…it was identical to the one Jocelyn had worn only minutes before. All the blood drained from Emma's face as a sudden insight robbed her of breath – Jocelyn was not just her daughter, she was their daughter, hers and Killian's. Furthermore, Killian must've recognized the girl's relationship to them the very first time he laid eyes on her. It explained everything about his strange behavior since their arrival here in the future. Emma realized that this, the existence of their daughter, was what Killian had been trying to tell her earlier that morning before – as he had so crudely put it – she seduced him. Emma clutched the plush arms of the chair with all her strength, holding on until her fingers cramped painfully, hot tears stinging her eyes. A million words swam through her overloaded brain, but she found she was only able to utter two.
"You knew," she croaked accusingly, some unidentified emotion nearly choking her. She frowned and struggled for more words, recognizing that she'd been exceedingly vague, but she couldn't seem to force another syllable past her lips. As it turned out, it didn't matter – Killian understood exactly what she meant without any further explanation on her part.
"Yes," he replied, his tone contrite. "I knew Jocelyn was our daughter the moment I saw her." His voice cracked on the word "our."
Emma glared at him, her tearful shock slowly giving way to a simmering anger. After everything they'd been through over the past few days, she thought they were done with the secrets and the lies. She started to ask why he hadn't told her about Jocelyn right away, but the question died on her lips when she realized she already knew the answer. Killian hadn't told her because he feared how she would react when faced with irrefutable evidence that one day she would indeed let him into her heart. She had to admit he would've been right to worry. Not even twenty-four hours ago a bombshell this explosive would've been enough to send Emma running for the nearest exit, but that was…before. Before she knew Killian had given up his ship – his home – to come back for her. Before she kissed him. Before he made love to her with a soul-crushing abandon that completely overshadowed every single one of her previous sexual experiences. Today, however, Emma could finally say with conviction that the thought of a future with Killian no longer terrified her.
Her new perspective made it slightly easier to think rationally about his latest transgression, so instead of raging at him as she might have done in the past, Emma simply said, "You should've told me." Despite her desire to keep a level head, her words came out sounding clipped and dangerous.
"I tried to tell you this morning – "
"You should've told me immediately," Emma clarified, cutting him off. She couldn't stomach his justifications or apologies in that moment, not while her daughter was crying her eyes out somewhere because her own mother had failed to recognize her. The fact that she had no prior knowledge of her daughter's existence wasn't much of an excuse – after all, Killian had recognized her. Emma knew it had been her own stubbornness that blinded her, and she was anxious to find Jocelyn and set things right. The inevitable confrontation with Killian would have to wait.
"I can't talk about this right now," she said brusquely, rising from her chair and heading for the door. She breezed past Killian, turning her back on him as she stepped into the hallway.
"Wait, where are you going?" he called out, the sharp note of panic in his voice stopping Emma in her tracks. She turned around to find he'd taken a single step towards her, reaching for her with his hook, his right hand still pressed between his bicep and his rib cage. Emma could tell by his broken expression that he thought his fears were coming to fruition and she was indeed running away from him rather than deal with her feelings. Hurt and angry though she was, she knew she couldn't leave him that way.
"Come here," she said softly, beckoning him to her, the hard edge in her voice softening slightly in the face of his uncertainty. He hesitated at first but then obliged, approaching her with cautious strides. Emma placed her hands on his right forearm as soon as he was within reach, gently pulling it away from his body in order to examine his injured hand. The sensitive skin of his palm and fingers blazed a livid shade of red where they had been singed by Jocelyn's magic. Concentrating hard as she summoned her own magic, Emma lifted Killian's hand towards her lips. She placed a gentle kiss in the center of his palm, her lips tingling as soothing, healing magic flowed out of her body and into his. Killian held his breath, his eyes widening as his hand was illuminated from the inside out, glowing with the white light of Emma's magic. After a few seconds, the glow faded, leaving behind only healthy, unblemished skin. Emma exhaled forcefully, a small, self-satisfied smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Her magic seemed to be coming to her much more easily now. She looked up at Killian and discovered he was staring at her as though she hung not only the sun, but the moon and the stars as well.
"I meant what I said in Rumple's vault," Emma said seriously, holding his gaze as she stroked her thumb over the baby soft new skin now covering his palm. "I'm done running. That's not what this is." Remorse crept into her tone, and she let go of his hand. "I need to find Jocelyn and make her understand. I can't have her thinking I was purposely rejecting her. I know only too well what that feels like."
"Don't be too hard on yourself, love. You didn't know who she was. She might have lashed out at you earlier, but deep down, Jocelyn understands," Killian reassured her. "It would mean the world to her if you went to talk to her."
His soft smile and the conviction in his words made Emma realize that this morning couldn't have been the first time he interacted with their daughter. Of course, she thought. Henry. Last night when her son had insisted on speaking with Killian alone, he must have taken him to Jocelyn. Apparently Killian wasn't the only one keeping secrets. Anger flared in Emma's chest once again, this time directed at both Killian and her son. What right did the two of them have to decide whether or not she should be told about her own daughter?
"I'll catch up with you later," Emma said, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Killian deflated, sensing the return of her anger. She motioned to the intersection at the end of the long hallway. "Which way did she go?"
"To the left," he replied. Emma started down the hall, but Killian shouted after her, "Wait a minute, love! This castle is huge, how will you find her?"
Exasperated, she stopped, tilting her head skyward as she rolled her eyes. "There's also a ton of people here," she called back without turning around. "I'm sure somebody must've seen where she went."
"But Henry said – "
Emma whirled about furiously. "I could care less what Henry said," she snapped. "I decided to stop following his 'orders' right after I realized he was in on your little secret." Killian looked confused, so she added, "Last night when the two of you went off together…he took you to see Jocelyn, didn't he?"
"Aye," Killian admitted reluctantly. "It was never our intention – "
"Save it," Emma interjected. "I'll deal with both of you later." To her relief, he allowed her to go without another word, although his grim expression told her he wasn't very happy about it.
After obtaining directions from several very bewildered guards and one astonished maid, all of whom had seen Jocelyn sprinting through the halls, Emma found herself standing outside her daughter's apartment a short while later. She tried not to dwell on the fact that the guards and the maid had stared at her as though they were seeing a ghost, instead focusing on summoning up enough courage to knock on the plain oak door in front of her. Jocelyn's apartment was located in the castle's western wing where the rooms and corridors were much smaller, darker, and far less grand than those Emma had seen previously. Before her nerves could get the best of her, she raised her hand to knock on the door. It gave way beneath her knuckles, and she realized it was already slightly ajar. Concerned, she pushed the heavy door open the rest of the way and peered inside.
All of the shades in the apartment were drawn, and it took several seconds for Emma's eyes to adjust to the darkness. When they did, she noticed that the rooms were laid out very similarly to those in the suite where she and Killian were staying, only on a more diminutive scale. Two sofas and a loveseat were arranged in a U-shape across from the fireplace, and Emma could just make out Jocelyn's slight form huddled on the sofa facing the foyer. Her back was towards Emma, her face buried in a pillow, and she appeared to be asleep. Emma tiptoed across the room, her senses on high alert, warily approaching the sleeping young woman as though she were a skittish horse or a cornered wild animal. She froze when Jocelyn muttered something unintelligible, thrashing about in her sleep, evidently in the throes of a nightmare. Her tossing and turning eventually landed her on her back, giving Emma a clear view of her face.
Curiosity got the best of Emma – she couldn't pass up the opportunity to study her daughter while she was still unaware. She walked right up to her, gingerly seating herself on the edge of the wooden coffee table positioned between the two sofas. Jocelyn's breathing remained deep and even, and Emma relaxed as she observed her daughter intently, drinking in and cataloguing each one of her too-familiar features. She quickly found herself enthralled by the girl's appearance. The resemblance between herself and Jocelyn was strong, but the longer Emma looked at her, the more she saw Killian echoed in her face. My god, she thought, her gaze landing upon the pointed shell of Jocelyn's ear. She even has his little elf ears. She couldn't have dreamt up a more seamless amalgamation of herself and Killian than the girl before her. It was no wonder he was so affected by her. Emma's heart turned over, then seized in her chest. Honestly, she was pretty affected herself, and she wasn't even sure how she felt about Killian in light of the emotional rollercoaster they'd been riding recently.
Jocelyn's face contorted suddenly, her body going stiff as another nightmare gripped her subconscious. A small, terrified whimper slipped past her lips. The sound seemed to strike an innate maternal chord within Emma, and she found herself reaching out automatically. She laid her hand on Jocelyn's forehead, tenderly brushing back her hair while crooning soothingly. Jocelyn's eyes snapped open, all vestiges of sleep rapidly fading as she stared at Emma in disbelief.
"Mom?" she whispered.
"Yes," Emma replied, trying very hard not to react to the strangeness of a grown woman addressing her with that particular title. "It's me. I wanted to talk to you."
Jocelyn pushed herself up into a sitting position with a grunt, and Emma allowed her hand to fall back into her lap. Mother and daughter regarded one another contemplatively, and Emma felt pride swell her heart. Even in her rumpled and sleep-deprived state, Jocelyn was lovely by anyone's standards. Her coloring – Emma's green eyes with Killian's dark hair – was striking, and her high cheekbones, elegantly arched brows, and full lips combined to make her a classic beauty. Emma could even see a distant hint of Henry in Jocelyn's features, primarily owing to the pale constellation of freckles dotted across the bridge of her nose.
Several minutes passed before Emma realized Jocelyn was waiting for her to speak first. She took a deep breath, and then said, "I came here to apologize. I need you to understand I wasn't rejecting you earlier. It just didn't cross my mind that you could be my daughter. I never really considered the possibility of having another child someday." Emma paused, grimacing as a novel thought occurred to her. "You don't have any brothers and sisters running around here, do you? Besides Henry, of course."
"I'm the only one," Jocelyn confirmed. "There was a complication during my birth and as a result you were left barren. We both had to stay in the hospital for several weeks after I was born. Dr. Whale wasn't sure if I would make it, but obviously I pulled through." She shrugged, her expression growing distant. "Dad used to call me his 'wee miracle.'"
Emma frowned, both at the prospect of enduring a difficult delivery and at the mention of Killian. The former was too surreal to even consider, and so she purposely focused her attention on the latter. "Back in our time, Killian and I weren't even in a relationship," she mused. "Granted, there was always something between us, but until…very recently…it hadn't really amounted to much. If someone would've told me yesterday morning that in a few years we will have a child together, I never would've believed it." Jocelyn looked solemn, and Emma suddenly realized how her comment must have sounded to her.
"Not because I couldn't see myself being with him, but because I definitely could," she rushed to clarify. "And the thought used to terrify me so much, the only thing I could do was push him away. I guess you could call it self-defense. I've been hurt so many times, it seemed like too big of a risk to trust someone again."
Jocelyn's mouth turned down at the corners. "That's what everyone's been telling me since you got here, but I think I needed to hear it from you," she said slowly. "It's just been hard for me to accept because the mother I remember was always so open and affectionate. I can't imagine you being any other way."
Emma was taken aback. Never in her life had anyone described her as open, and before Henry showed up on her doorstep she'd had no reason to be affectionate. If she was right about Jocelyn's age, it meant she would become pregnant only two or three years from now. What could possibly happen in such a short amount of time to change her so completely? You know what happens, she chastised herself inwardly. Stop denying it. It's Killian who changes you, when you start believing in his love and loving him in return. If she wanted proof, she needn't look any further than the girl sitting across from her. Everything Jocelyn had said so far suggested she really had found her happy ending with Killian.
"I know Henry probably asked you not to tell me anything about my future, but can you just tell me one thing?" Emma asked with as much nonchalance as she could muster. She suspected she already knew the answer to the question she wanted to ask, but some secret, vulnerable part of her still wanted to hear Jocelyn say it aloud.
To her relief, the young woman nodded affirmatively, a mischievous grin slowly spreading across her face. "If you haven't noticed, my princely brother is an overly proper, stodgy old git," she said, and Emma once again picked up on her slight lilt. "Not to mention a complete worrywart. Your memories are of no real concern – Regina and Rumpelstiltskin probably concoct forgetting potions every night in their sleep. Ask me anything you want."
"Killian and I, our family…were we happy?" Emma asked in a rush, fully aware she sounded more than a little desperate.
Jocelyn looked bemused. "You two really are meant for each other," she declared, shaking her head. "He asked me the very same thing last night, and I'll tell you exactly what I told him – always." Her expression turned serious. "You loved each other and you both loved me, and our home was always filled with laughter and happiness."
Emma sat back. Jocelyn's answer should have eased her mind, but she found herself thinking about the words the girl had hurled at her in anger earlier. You're gone, she had said tearfully. You've been missing for the past five years and the real secret is that it's all my fault. It seemed something – or, more likely, someone – had meddled with their happy ending.
"Jocelyn, what you said earlier, about Killian and I going missing," Emma said reluctantly. "What happened to us?"
The look on Jocelyn's face almost made Emma wish she could retract her question, but she needed to know the truth and the young woman seemed like the only person who might actually give it to her. Agitated, Jocelyn scrambled to her feet and began pacing the room. Emma found it somewhat disconcerting to watch her daughter engage in one of her own nervous habits.
"A little over five years ago traces of Dark Magic started showing up all over the kingdom," Jocelyn began. "Dad was an admiral in the Royal Navy, and Grandpa sent him and his crew on a mission to investigate. Regina went along as a magical advisor." She glanced at Emma, anticipating her unspoken question. "You wanted to accompany them, but Dad and Grandpa convinced you to stay behind, for my sake. I was fifteen and…a bit of a handful at times."
Emma smiled, recalling the brazen way Jocelyn had challenged them in the forest. Considering her self-assurance and obvious magical powers, she didn't doubt the girl was formidable. If she'd inherited even small traces of Emma's stubbornness and Killian's sass, to say she was a handful was probably an understatement.
"The longer Dad was away, the more paranoid you became," Jocelyn continued, her voice carefully devoid of emotion. "You forbade me to wander outside the castle walls without an escort, but I refused to listen. One morning I snuck out alone to go for a swim in the creek. Afterwards, I used magic to dry myself off and the burst of energy attracted a witch. Not just any witch, but the Dark Sorceress, Morgana Pendragon."
"Wait a minute," Emma blurted out. Was there no end to the list of fictional characters who were actually real? "Do you mean Morgana from the King Arthur legend is a real person?"
Jocelyn ceased pacing momentarily in order to glare at Emma, one perfect eyebrow arched dubiously. "Do I need to remind you that your parents are Snow White and Prince Charming? Or that your son's paternal grandfather is Rumpelstiltskin? Not to mention the fact that you are romantically involved with Captain Hook."
Emma pursed her lips and considered denying Jocelyn's allegations regarding the status of her relationship with 'Captain Hook,' but in the end she held her tongue, recognizing the extreme irony in such a refutation. There wasn't much use denying her involvement with the good captain to their future offspring. "I'm sorry," she said dolefully. "I keep thinking one day I'll wake up and just accept that this is actually my life, but so far no such luck. Please, go on."
"Morgana bound me with an immobilization spell," Jocelyn said flatly, resuming her neurotic pacing. "She intended to kidnap me, and she would've succeeded if you hadn't sensed my distress and gone looking for me. You challenged her, but I'm sorry to say you were no match for her. Morgana has been alive for over a thousand years, and her power is so great even the Dark One fears her. When it became clear you couldn't defeat her, you pleaded with her to release me. She agreed, but only if you consented to go in my place." She stopped abruptly, turning to face Emma. The years seemed to melt from her face, revealing the frightened adolescent who still lurked beneath the young woman's outward show of confidence. Emma's heart constricted – she identified with that look only too well. Lost girl, she thought. I may not have abandoned her on purpose, but the end result was the same. Her mind transported her twelve years into the past, back to the gut-wrenching moment when she gave her son up without ever holding him in her arms. Am I destined to fail all of my children this way? Emma wondered miserably.
"Morgana kept her word," Jocelyn said in a strangled voice, tears welling up in her eyes. "She took you and set me free, but not before putting me under a sleeping curse. Henry was the one who found me, unconscious in the forest, but it was Dad who saved me. He returned as quickly as he could when he received word of my condition and your disappearance. He revived me with True Love's Kiss."
Jocelyn was now crying so hard Emma could barely understand her. "When I woke up, everyone wanted to know what happened to you," she managed to choke out through her tears. "No one realized I'd gone against your wishes and left the castle grounds. I – I let them think you were already with me in the forest and that Morgana ambushed the two of us. I told them you willingly went with her in order to spare me. Dad was devastated – I'd never seen him cry so much before – I just couldn't bear to tell him the truth. He wanted to go after you immediately. Regina advised against it, saying that Morgana was too powerful and he would need help if he planned to face her, but Dad was irrational and he wouldn't listen. He left in the middle of the night to ward off anyone who might try to stop him. He never returned, but all these years I've held onto the hope that he's still alive. That you're both still alive."
Jocelyn fell silent, too overcome with emotion to go on. She swayed on her feet, and Emma realized she was about to collapse under the weight of her own exhaustion and the emotional trauma of finally spilling her darkest secret. She hurried across the room, intending to help her daughter sit down until she regained her composure, but as she drew near Jocelyn surprised her by hurling herself into her arms. Initially Emma froze at her touch, but then something gave way inside of her and she found herself clinging to Jocelyn, powerful sobs rocking them both. Emma cried not only for the broken girl in her arms, but also for the loss of the family she didn't yet have, and at the unfairness of knowing she would finally find her happy ending only to have it wrenched away by a malevolent sorceress.
Emma wasn't sure how much time passed before Jocelyn quieted enough to allow herself to be led to the sofa. They sat down side by side, Jocelyn still clinging to Emma's hands as though she never intended to let her go. Emma studied her daughter's tear-stained face, battling her own verbal ineptitude as she tried to find just the right words to say.
"I know it must've been very hard for you to tell the truth after all this time. Thank you for being brave enough to share it with me," she said softly, squeezing Jocelyn's hands in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. "You need to know none of what happened with Morgana was your fault. You couldn't have known she was out there or what she intended to do."
Jocelyn shook her head. "That's not true," she insisted stubbornly. "You warned me over and over again that something dangerous was out there and asked me not to venture outside the castle walls alone. If only I'd listened, you and Dad would still be here. Our family was ripped apart because of me." The anguish and guilt she felt was written all over her face.
"Jocelyn, please listen to me," Emma said firmly. "It was not your fault. You were a just a child, and you made a mistake. I promise you, if you tell everyone the truth, no one will blame you. You never know, it just might make you feel better to get rid of this burden you've carried for so long now." Jocelyn still looked unconvinced, but she made no rebuttal.
"Killian and I are here now, though," Emma said, suddenly making a decision. "I know we aren't the…versions of ourselves…that you remember, but I think he would agree with me when I say we won't let go of our happy ending without a fight. There has to be some way we can set things right."
To Emma's surprise, Jocelyn smiled. "He told me you'd say that," she said. "Maybe there is a way…it just so happens that Grandpa's army has finally located Morgana's lair. She was on the run for a long time after she captured you, but Grandpa believes she's now taken up residence on an island in the Crystal Sea. Grandpa and Henry are planning to storm the island as soon as they amass a large enough army for the attack." She paused. "Henry doesn't know it yet, but I plan to go with them. It doesn't matter how many knights they manage to convince to join their army – they will never defeat Morgana without magic."
"Then I will go with you," Emma stated resolutely. She didn't try to argue with Jocelyn or insist that the mission was too dangerous for her to go along. She could tell by the familiar gleam in her daughter's eyes that her words would only fall upon deaf ears. Jocelyn was an adult, and Emma sensed she would make her own decisions for better or for worse. "If Morgana is as powerful as you say, you'll need all the magical help you can get."
Jocelyn's smile faded. "You weren't strong enough to defeat her the first time around," she said bluntly. "But together I think we might have a good shot at it. Last night in the library I came across an ancient prophecy foretelling Morgana's demise at the hands of a practitioner of Light Magic."
"What did it say?" Emma asked, intrigued. While she'd come to wholeheartedly accept such fantastical notions as True Love and time travel, the concept of prophecies was new to her.
Jocelyn stood, pulling Emma up with her. Her forlorn expression was gone, replaced by a look of sheer determination. "Before I tell you about the prophecy, I think we should go find Henry and Dad so I can tell you all at the same time," she said. "If we're really going to take on Morgana, we need to come up with a plan. She seems to be staying in one place for now, but I don't think we should waste any time."
"Okay," Emma agreed. "I left Killian back in the library, and the last I saw Henry he was in the dining hall."
"We'll check there first," said Jocelyn, guiding Emma towards the door.