I think we're back to two updates a week! Woohoo!
Also: I'm super excited because this got a mention on tumblr in lizzyc807shipscaptainswan's April fic rec list...thank you to whoever rec'd it to her! It means a lot to me that people are enjoying this :)
The woods surrounding Rumplestiltskin's cabin seemed like the most likely spot to find villainess, assuming the Dark One was playing host. After picking her way through the trees, Emma found a small clearing near the house, and took a deep breath to calm her sudden nerves.
"Maleficent," she called out. She probably doesn't even hear me; what am I doing? "Maleficent, I...I want to help you get your happy ending."
She waited, listening. An eternity passed in a few moments of silence, but she finally heard a twig snap, and turned to face it.
Sure enough, the witch in question sauntered into the clearing. It was the first time Emma had ever seen her in human form; the blonde held a staff in one hand, which clashed with her 1940s gangster outfit. "You want to help me?" Maleficent said, incredulous. "Since when do the heroes want to help the villains?"
"Since I learned that even the heroes do bad things," Emma replied. "I'm sorry for what my parents did, and I want to make it up to you."
"YOU'RE sorry? Really?" The woman began to saunter around Emma, as if challenging her. "You have no idea what it's like to lose a child before you've even held them."
"I do, actually. I know what it's like to not know what they look like, or even what you had. I gave my son up before I could even hold him." Despite Regina's fake memories, the reality of hearing Henry's first cry and being able to do nothing for it was a memory that still haunted her.
"But you had a choice; mine was taken from me!" Maleficent grew agitated.
"I know. And that's why I wanted to help you. Let's find your child." If Gold could find Neal in New York and Henry in Neverland, then surely he could help locate Maleficent's child.
"And then what? It's been 30 years; my child could be dead, or want nothing to do with me." Hurt was beginning to show through the anger.
"But don't you want to know?"
Something in that resonated with the sorceress. Emma could see the wheels turning in her head as she contemplated it. Maleficent began to look hopeful, seemingly considering it. But then something changed, and her expression turned dark.
"No; it's too late."
"It's NEVER too late." Killian had shown Emma that—that it was always the right time to make amends, put the past behind you, and start anew.
"Oh, but it is." Maleficent began slowly walking toward Emma. "If I truly want my happy ending, it will only happen if the Savior is gone."
There was something extremely threatening about her tone, and Emma reflexively stepped back, hands at the ready to defend against any magic attack.
"Maleficent, we can do this. We can't fix it, but we can make it better."
The orb atop the witch's staff began to glow an off-putting purple color. "Too bad you won't get the chance."
A pulse emitted from the staff; Emma watched it approach her as if in slow motion, though it was too fast for her to even react.
Then, everything went black.
Maleficent stood over the so-called Savior, watching her sleep. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd cast a sleeping spell on a princess. It wasn't a curse—no need for True Love's Kiss—but she was going to make sure the victim never woke up.
The plan was to darken the Savior's heart, she knew; but that would take too much time. This would be much, much faster; the Dark One be damned.
She hadn't flown in ages, and it was going to feel so wonderful.
Killian reluctantly retired to the cove after Emma left for Granny's that night, settling in what had become his bed. It pained him to see her so upset and heartbroken, and he couldn't help but harbor some anger toward her parents (but it would have been hypocritical of him to truly chastise them, he knew).
He was sure of one thing, though: it was time to get back on land. As comfortable as he now was with life under the sea and his newfound powers, it wasn't home. Emma is.
His thoughts wandered again to his father's old leather cuff, which he had held on to after all these years. Was that the object Poseidon had referred to? It had certainly been missing a long time, as far as the merfolk would be concerned. If he could get it off the Roger...it was worth pursuing.
He slept a bit later the next day than usual, judging by the way the sun's rays drifted through the water. Normally, he was awoken by Emma; her absence slightly alarmed him, but given last night, it wasn't that surprising.
It must have been a day of rest, as most of the fishing boats were still docked in the harbor. Not a soul was in sight, either; he'd been relying on someone trustworthy being around to retrieve the cuff. Damn.
But as he scanned the harbor, motion on the deck of the Roger caught his eye. Killian started to curse the Dark One for still trying to lay claim to the ship, even though his secret was out, until Killian caught sight of who was actually aboard: Henry.
The lad was sweeping, removing some debris that must have accumulated in the past week. Killian pulled up a wave to bring him at a level with the deck, and called out.
"You swab a mighty fine deck, there." Henry jumped at first, clearly not expecting an interruption, but shock gave way to a grin when he saw who was speaking.
"I figured you wouldn't be able to, and someone needed to look after it."
"Aye; a ship only gives back what you give to her. You have my eternal thanks for watching over her, Henry."
"Did I do a good job tying her up?"
"Quite; I'm impressed, lad." Henry smiled back proudly (as he should be; he'll be a sailor yet).
Killian leaned forward onto the railing with his forearms, and bid Henry to come closer. "I do have a favor to ask you. Can you run below deck and fetch me something?"
"Of course," he said back, clearly eager to be of help. "What am I looking for?"
Killian began twisting his hook to remove it, pulling it off to reveal the teeth of the key it doubled as. "In my cabin, below a shelf, there's a green safe. I need you to go in it and retrieve an old leather cuff." He handed his hook to Henry and showed him how to use it to open the vault. "Got it?"
"No problem, Killian. I'll be right back."
He had just began his descent to the lower deck when a shadow fell over the harbor, and the rough sound of wind thundered from above. Instinctively following the noise, Killian drew his attention up to the source of the disturbance, and was momentarily filled with terror: a monstrous dragon was flying over the water, all black and covered with greenish scales. Something was clutched in its claws—something dreadfully human-like. The beast let out a screech that grated like swords crashing together.
He couldn't afford to let his initial fear take hold and didn't have time to wonder where the beast came from. Quickly going into captain mode, he shouted: "Henry, get below deck and STAY THERE!" There was no way he'd let any harm come to Swan's boy. He let the wave he'd been riding fall back to the surface and followed the dragon farther out away from shore.
He had to throw a hand over his eyes to shield them from the burst of flame that emitted from the creature's mouth just then, but it gave him a quick idea on how he might hope to vanquish it. Refocusing his thoughts, he summoned a jet of water and aimed it at the dragon's chest, which seemed to be the source of the fire.
But the beast moved, and he merely hit it in its side, which did no good in defeating it—but certainly angered it.
He should have dove under the water, but seemed to be frozen in place, which gave the dragon plenty of time to locate him as the assailant and move in to attack.
The monster dove down at him with alarming speed; Killian only just avoided its free claw by diving down away, but he resurfaced in time to get a good look at whatever (whoever?) the beast was holding.
No. Now he was truly terrified: he recognized the unmistakable form of Emma within the dragon's clutch, her golden hair catching the wind and flying around her head. Suddenly, an old conversation popped back in his head, spurred by what she'd told him last night. Maleficent; the dragon is Maleficent. Emma must have tried to confront her, only to have it backfire.
Oh, Swan; what did you do?