Chapter 25
Camelot, 1 ½ years ago
"You dare to attack me, peasant?" Black shouted in rage. Raising a fist full of pixie dust, she threw it at the miserable excuse for humanity standing defiantly before her. A moment later where a man in his mid-thirties had stood, stood a monkey with large wings.
"Again, Black?" Morgana asked with a shake of her head. It was ten years ago that Black had first turned a peasant into a winged monkey. She had been trying to prove a point then. The woman had defied her, flat out refusing to follow Black's dictates.
"When monkeys fly!" the woman had shouted, spitting at Black's feet. "I'll betray my family and my village when monkeys fly!"
"Oh, very well," Black had answered in a profoundly bored voice. She'd lazily flicked her wrist, and the first winged monkey was created.
Black had decided that she rather liked the flying primate, deeming it "cute." She'd placed the transfigured woman in the dungeon, and since then every single person who'd crossed her had undergone the same fate. By now, Black had a veritable army of the creatures.
"Have you any idea what this scum did to me?" Black yelled in outrage, pointing a perfectly manicured, red-nailed finger toward the docile-looking monkey.
"I couldn't guess," Morgana said.
Black pulled up her left sleeve to reveal an oozing, blistering burn. "He poured water on me. Camelot water!" she hissed. "You know what that does to me! I'm burning, melting."
"Calm yourself dear," Morgana said soothingly, "You know I have a salve that will clear your burn up in the blink of an eye, and it appears you've sufficiently punished the perpetrator."
"That's not the point!" Black yelled in outrage. "How did he know about the water? I've kept that a strict secret!"
"Come now, Black," Morgana said, waving her hand and sending the monkey to join his peers in the dungeon, "you know how Camelot is. Nothing is ever secret. And once the vultures in the castle kitchens get ahold of a juicy piece of gossip, they never let it go."
"Easy for you to be complacent!" Black brooded. "Yon peasants haven't learned your weakness, the way to defeat you!"
"I have no weaknesses," Morgana said regally, "and I won't be defeated."
"You will if the prophecy is ever fulfilled."
Morgana frowned. Black was becoming more and more unmanageable by the day. With every ounce of power and magical ability she gained, she seemed to become less in awe of her patroness.
Morgana began to second guess the plan she had been formulating over the past few weeks. Was it really wise to give the former fairy this much power and authority? Morgana finally dismissed her concerns. This was for the best; it really was. If she was to expand her reach, she needed a surrogate in the Enchanted Forest. Black would do as well as anyone.
"Yes, well, never mind the prophecy," Morgana said dismissively. "As it has not been fulfilled in hundreds of years, I think I'm safe. I came to see you for an entirely different purpose."
"What's that?" Black asked with interest.
"You have been an incredibly apt and talented pupil," Morgana purred. Flattery never hurt any venture. "I believe it is time to expand your authority."
Black looked intrigued, definitely intrigued. "Expand my authority?" she asked. "How so?"
"It occurred to me that we are setting our sights far too low merely being content ruling Camelot," Morgana said. "It is most certainly time to extend our empire."
"Excellent thought!" Black nodded eagerly. "Where shall we conquer next?"
"The Enchanted Forest," Morgana said. "How would you like to be its supreme ruler…have authority over everyone there? Everyone…such as the fairy who took your wings in the first place?"
A greedy look came over Black's face which was promptly followed by confusion. "But I don't understand, Morgana," she said. "The queen cast the curse a good twenty-eight years ago. Blue and everyone else was sent to that Land Without Magic. What kind of authority will I have if no one is left there?"
"Black do you never listen to the reports from Fairy Tale World?" Morgana asked with a sigh. "The curse didn't take everyone. There was an entire village, not to mention Robin Hood and his Merry Men, and various peasants scattered throughout the countryside. Of course, Cora killed most of the villagers before she and that pirate went to the Land Without Magic. Regardless, there are still plenty in the Enchanted Forest for you to lord it over."
"But this isn't the way I wanted it!" Black whined. "I wanted to punish Blue and all the other self-righteous fairies for their injustice toward me. Lording it over an Enchanted Forest where they have left will not hold nearly the sweetness."
"Patience, Black," Morgana said. It was only with the most heroic effort that she held onto the thin string of her own patience. "I'd not give up on my revenge if I were you. There is a rumor circulating that a 'savior' broke the curse in the Land Without Magic. Now that the residents of Storybrooke remember who they are, I've little doubt they will find a way to return someday. Wouldn't it be interesting for them to return to find you in control of the throne?"
"Wouldn't it indeed!" Black said with a delighted laugh. Then she sobered. "But how can I go back there as the Black Fairy? The disgraced creature who spent hundreds of years in exile? What kind of authority could I possibly wield?"
"Reinvent yourself," Morgana said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Take a new moniker. Something impressive and mysterious. Change your appearance. I can give you a new skin color if you'd like."
"Can you make me green?" Black asked eagerly. "It's always been my favorite color…but I could never wear it. That annoying goody-two-shoes, Tinker Bell, always insisted it was her color and her color alone!"
"Nothing simpler," Morgana said. She waved her hand and Black officially became green.
"Lovely!" Black breathed. "But still. If I do go back to the Enchanted Forest, how am I to exert my authority? You have an entire army, but I haven't a single body guard."
"Come now Black, use your imagination," Morgana said. "You have an entire army of winged monkeys in yon dungeon. They would do nicely, don't you think?"
She looked skeptical. "Well, they are hardly loyal to me. After all, I did ruin their lives. What's to stop them from betraying me the moment I free them from the dungeon?"
"Have I taught you nothing, Black?" Morgana asked in exasperation. "Those monkeys don't want to remain monkeys. Offer to return them to their human form if they fight for you. If anyone is still recalcitrant, threaten to hunt down their families and transform them as well. It'll work like a dream!"
"Excellent!" Black exclaimed. "It seems there is but one matter left to decide."
"What is that, dear?"
"What shall my new moniker be?"
Morgana thought for a moment, and then snapped her fingers. "Camelot is west of the Enchanted Forest, so how about this: the Wicked Witch of the West?"
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Camelot, present day
Hook stepped out of the cabin and hesitated as he heard the cup smash against the door. A moment later, he heard Emma's wrenching, heartbroken sobs. He closed his eyes as utter desolation swept over him, desolation and loathing. He had done this! This was his fault! Oh, Morgana may be ultimately responsible, but he had broken the heart of the most precious person in the world to him. How could he ever forgive himself for this?
The crying continued on and on until Hook was sure the lass would have no tears left. He ached to go back into the cabin, take her in his arms, swear it had all been a mistake. But he had to restrain himself. He had to! For one thing, he would guess he was the last man alive Emma wanted to see now. But more importantly, nothing was more vital than protecting her. He had to make sure she left Camelot. She may grieve for him and what they might have had for a time, but she would be alive. She would heal in the arms of her family…maybe even in the arms of Neal. The thought of his Emma with another man made him feel as though someone had punched him in the gut, but how could he deny her that comfort?
At long last, the sobs quieted and Hook stepped behind a tree. He had very little idea what his next course of action was, but he knew that before he did anything he had to make absolute sure his lass was safely away. Morgana said she would let Emma leave Camelot unmolested, but Hook wouldn't trust that bloody witch any farther than he could throw her! It would be just like the demoness to double cross him, send her archers after Emma as soon as he was safely away.
Emma stepped out of the door. Her face was red and splotchy, her eyes still wet and red-rimmed, but she looked composed. Her face was hard with anger and determination.
"Please lass!" Hook muttered under his breath. "Please don't try to fight her on your own. Please go back to the Enchanted Forest. Go back to the Crocodile's castle, go back to the Knights. Raise your army to fight Morgana, but don't put yourself in danger!"
She walked with determined steps away from the cabin…in the direction of the No-Man's-Land that bordered the Enchanted Forest. Hook heaved a silent sigh of relief. She was leaving. He followed her at a discreet distance until he saw her pass over the border of Camelot, and then he turned around.
The talisman felt warm against the skin of his chest. He pulled it from his chain and examined it. It still glowed fiercely. Did that mean he still had the lass's love despite everything he'd said to her? Everlasting love. Her talisman symbolized everlasting love. How he wished that could be true.
As he walked slowly back in the direction of the cabin, Hook's pain slowly began to morph into anger. A cold, deadly righteous indignation fell over him, as heavy as the leather coat he was never without. He would see Morgana defeated! He would see her defeated if it was the last thing he did! He did not make the ultimate sacrifice of his love for nothing.
How exactly he would defeat her without his love, the very other half of his being, he had no idea. He would figure that out as he went. First, and by far most important, he must return to Morgana and ensure she kept her end of the deal. Emma had left; Morgana must promise to leave her safe and whole.
Hook looked once more at his talisman. It wouldn't do to let the bloody witch get her filthy hands on this. Somehow his talisman and Emma's were the key to defeating Morgana, and whatever happened, he had to keep it safe. He walked with purpose back to the cabin, bent at the base of the very tree he had hid behind while waiting for Emma to emerge, dug viciously with his hook, and deposited the talisman in the ensuing hole. He patted the dirt back upon the cross and covered the whole with fallen leaves and bracken. There. It would be safe enough until he determined what to do with it.
Half an hour later, Hook found himself knocking on the huge doors to Camelot castle. With every step his anger had grown until it was finally a mighty leviathan that begged to be released.
A knight dressed in full chainmail armor opened the door. Odd. Did Morgana keep her knights ready for battle at all times or was she planning some kind of campaign? It couldn't be good, whatever the case. The knight looked at him inscrutably.
"The queen is expecting you," he said in a wooden voice. "Right this way, kind sir."
Kind sir? He wasn't anything of the sort, and Morgana well knew it!
Hook looked around with interest, curious where Morgana would meet with him this time. The knight led him through the great hall and up a set of stairs in the corner. Several wall sconces cast eerie shadows over the floor. They were going up? So it wasn't the dungeon for him this time.
At the top of the stairs, the knight led Hook down a hallway to an ornate door at the far end. Stepping in, Hook found himself in what was obviously Morgana's private chambers. A huge, elaborate bed sat in one corner beneath a window high on the wall. Along the opposite wall was a blazing fire in the hearth before which sat a table and several chairs. Morgana sat in the large throne-like chair at the head of the table, a golden goblet in one elegant hand. The table was set for a feast. Meats, breads, fruits, delicacies of all kinds.
"Ah, Captain!" she said with a smile, "you've arrived at last. That took rather longer than expected."
Hook clenched his fist willing himself to remain calm. Morgana was a wily bitch, and if he was to best her, he needed to keep a clear head.
"The deed is done," he said through gritted teeth. "Emma has left Camelot."
"Aye," Morgana said with a nasty smile, patting the magic mirror on the table beside her. "So I saw. Such venomous words you spouted, Captain. I'm afraid you left your poor Emma positively heartbroken!"
Hook remained silent. He would not give her the satisfaction of a reply.
"Do you feel no remorse?" she taunted. "No. I suppose you wouldn't. The fearsome Captain Hook has done far worse than play a poor lady for a fool. What amazes me is that you could have ever fooled yourself into thinking a woman, a hero, could truly love you."
"I've fulfilled my end," Hook said in a tightly controlled voice. "Now I'm here to be sure you fulfill yours."
She looked up at him assessingly. "Oh do stop with the theatrics, Hook," she sighed, "It's so tiresome. Sit. Join me in my celebratory feast. Matters of business can wait."
"I'd sooner break bread with a viper!" he ground out.
"Very well," she said with a sigh helping herself to a slice of mince meat pie. "So you want me to fulfill my part of the bargain, aye? You're ready to collect your half of Camelot."
"Nay!" Hook said angrily taking a seat to the left of Morgana. "I don't want land or riches. I want one thing and one thing only."
"And what might that be? My head on a silver platter."
"I wouldn't turn that down," Hook said with a leering grin, "but I demand something far less costly. Swear to me that you will leave Emma in peace. She's left Camelot; she's no longer a threat to you."
"No longer a threat to me?" Morgana said with a simpering laugh. "My dear Hook, what do you take me for?"
She picked up her mirror and caressed it. "If you think I wasn't watching every delicious moment of that drama, you've deluded yourself. Full well did I hear your lady love's vow to raise an army and come back to fight me."
"Fight the army. Fight it to the death if you must, but my Emma remains safe!" He demanded.
"Oh aye," she said, with a hard glint in her eye. "your dear, sweet Emma remains safe as long as she remains outside the boundaries of Camelot. But the minute she steps back across the border, her life is as good as forfeit. I shall keep a very close eye on your lass in my mirror here. I shall know what she is about!"
Hook moved quickly with the speed of a trained military man. He snatched the mirror from Morgana's unsuspecting fingers and brought it down with crashing force upon the table. The glass shattered until barely a shard clung to the frame. Morgana growled deep in her throat and flicked her wrist, sending a slashing pain across his face.
"Unwise, Hook," she said angrily. "It is unwise to cross me! You think your piece of fluff is safe now that my mirror is gone? Nay! I have spies everywhere! When she returns I will find her, and I promise you, I will treat her just as I told you I would! Your love has nothing to look forward to but violation, torture and death!"
Hook growled, beyond sense, feeling nothing but white hot rage. He lunged for her, but her magic was too strong for him. Morgana shot her hands forward and thick coils of rope bound him to the chair from shoulder to waist.
"Now," she said, a hard glint in her eyes, "are you prepared to behave yourself like a good little boy and eat your dinner properly, or shall I give you a lesson in just what happens to those who cross me?"
He smirked. "I'm anything but a boy, and I'm not hungry."
"Not hungry?" she said with a leer. "Oh, but I believe you are. Perhaps it is merely something other than food you are hungry for. I do have a bed in yon corner where we could…satisfy that hunger."
Really? Emma was wrong. Psychotic didn't even begin to cover it.
"Well, pet," he said, smirk still firmly in place, "let's just say if I had to choose between lying with you or lying with the rotting corpse of the ugliest woman ever to walk the planet, you would lose in a landslide."
She didn't like that. Didn't like that at all. The frown made her look positively demented. Well, the outside might as well match the in. She pulled back her hand and slapped him across the face with enough force that his chair would have tipped had she not righted it.
"Very well," she shouted. "You won't accept my hospitality. I grow tired of this. Enjoy your new accommodations."
Morgana waved her hands and chanted in words Hook couldn't understand. Suddenly he felt the rope slip from him, and he had the sensation of flying through the air. Hook closed his eyes; the blurring of the room made him sick. After what felt like hours, he fell to the ground, and something grabbed his good wrist.
Cautiously, he opened his eyes and found himself seated in a rough prison cell. The only light came from the narrow window in the cell door. Hook looked around, and his heart sank. He was in Morgana's prison, and he'd just become aware that the weight on his wrist was a manacle holding him in place at the far wall. Most frustrating of all, his hook was on the far side of the cell, just out of reach.
Hook strained against his bonds, yelling for help, knowing all along it was hopeless. Despair threatened to engulf him. He had to get out, had to warn Emma, had to keep her from returning to Camelot. But he was chained up like a dog, unable to do so much as get to his feet. Never had things looked bleaker.
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Emma had no idea how long she sat on the floor, sobbing, rocking back and forth. There were no words to describe this kind of agony. Finally she'd cried herself out. The pain settled back into a steady, but manageable ache.
Emma roughly swiped her hands against her wet cheeks as the anger came back. She hated him! How could he have done this to her? He'd been so gentle, so tender, so achingly real with her! How could it have just been a trick? Oh, she despised him!
But even more, she despised herself. How had she allowed him past her walls? Why had she let him in…farther than she'd ever let anyone in? Hadn't she learned over and over and over again what happens when you made yourself vulnerable? When you gave another person the ability to hurt you? Yes, it had been wonderful for a few blissful days when she'd let herself believe he loved her like she loved him, but then this happened!
The talisman was warm against her skin. She grabbed the necklace and yanked roughly until the chain broke. Everlasting love? Yeah, that was a joke. There was no such thing as everlasting love. The talisman still shone brightly, and Emma had the insane urge to scream at it. Why was it glowing? Didn't it realize that their love was over? That it had died a quick and excruciatingly painful death?
She threw the talisman to the ground, and it landed on a slightly crumpled bit of paper. She picked it up, glanced at it, and her eyes filled with tears once more. It was his love letter; the letter he'd written her before deciding that he'd rather cavort with one of her deepest enemies. Why? Why had he written her such a letter? Did he get off on causing people pain? If Hook's hateful words were the wound, this achingly beautiful love letter was the salt he was massaging into it!
Emma picked up the letter and the talisman and held both to her chest while she let the tears flow once again. She tried to tell herself how much she hated him, but it simply rang false. She knew deep within her heart that she loved him desperately, always would. Whatever it had been for him, it was true love for her, and if she'd learned anything in the two years since she first went to Storybrooke, it was that true love never dies.
Finally the tears ended once again. Emma carefully folded the letter and put it in her pocket. She felt adrift, lost without Hook at her side, but it was time she figure out what to do. She couldn't stay here; she wouldn't be remotely successful on her own. Her best bet was to go find the Knights of the Round Table. Maybe they had some ideas about how to defeat Morgana now that plan A…defeat her with their true love and talismans…was an absolute bust.
Because destroy Morgana she would! The witch may have destroyed her life, but Emma would be damned if she went down without a fight! She would take Morgana down if it was the last thing she did!
Face set like flint, Emma strapped Neal's cutlass to her back and walked purposefully from the cabin and toward No-Man's Land.
Emma walked steadily for two hours, three. She was beginning to become concerned. Where could the knights be? She should have come across their camp by now. Hadn't Lancelot promised he would stay near the Camelot boundary? What if she'd gone the wrong way? Sense of direction wasn't really her strong suit. What if she didn't find them? It wasn't exactly as though there were gas stations around here where one could stop for directions!
Finally, just as Emma was beginning to lose hope, she saw a tent in the distance. Was this them? She walked more quickly, and soon recognized Lancelot's ebony skin among a group of men. She'd found them.
"Lancelot!" she shouted, sprinting forward. He looked up curiously as she reached the group.
"Emma, lass!" her dad said with concern, wrapping his arms around her, "what's amiss? You look as though you've seen a ghost."
"Where's my lad?" Sir Gawain asked intently. "Where's my Killian."
"I…" Emma said hating the tremor in her voice. "I don't know."
And then the whole sad, sordid tale came out. She told how she'd awoken this morning to find Hook's love letter, how she'd been filled with joy, utter delight. She told of him returning to the cabin, and by the time she'd finished that part of the tale, the tears were flowing once again.
When she finished speaking, there was total silence.
"Come here, Buttercup," her dad said finally. She collapsed into his arms and sobbed like she had that day so many years ago when Tommy had called her "just a foster kid." Her dad had been able to fix anything, make anything better, when she was a little girl. But this pain, the pain of a heartbroken woman, was beyond anything he could fix.
The knights remained silent as she grieved, letting her have her moment. Once she finally composed herself again and sat back, she looked over their noble faces. She didn't know what she expected their reaction would be. Anger? Outrage? Worry? Certainly not the reaction she got when their silence finally came to an end.
"I can't believe it, lass!"
"Never in a million years!"
"This has got to be a mistake!"
"My lad would never play a woman false in that manner!"
"Perhaps he's been bewitched?"
"The lad is true as a compass, anyone can see that!"
"His love was stronger than anyone I've ever seen!"
"Things are not as they seem!"
What were they saying? Did they actually think Hook still loved her?
"My lady," Lancelot said with a small bow in her direction. "Whatever has happened since, there is no doubt in my mind that the man who rescued me from my prison was desperately in love with you. His whole world revolved around you. I'd find it easier to believe someone who told me Morgana Le Fay is a gentle and kind saint of a woman than someone telling me Killian played you false."
Could it be true? A small flame of hope leaped up within her, and then it slowly flickered. Why would he lie to her? Why would he deliberately try to break her heart if he loved her?
"I don't know, Lancelot," she said skeptically. "You didn't hear what he said. You didn't see the look in his eyes."
"My lady," Lancelot said again, "may I see your talisman?"
She shrugged, and pulled the necklace from her pocket.
"I thought as much," Lancelot said with a smile when she'd placed the talisman in his calloused hand. "It glows as bright as the stars in the heavens. Such would not be the case if your love had faded away."
"Well," she said, glancing away, "my love hasn't. That's the hell of it. I…I have this crazy feeling that I'll never stop loving him."
"Excuse me," Sir Gawain stepped up, "May I ask you a question?"
"Sure," she said with another shrug.
"What reason did my son give for supposedly playing you false?"
"He said something about Morgana offering riches," she said. "He said she'd offered him half of Camelot."
The knights grumbled in obvious irritation.
"And," Gawain continued, "is my son of such a mercenary bent? Would he give up love for the lure of filthy lucre?"
"Well," Emma said furrowing her brow, "no. I mean he was a pirate and everything, and he's not a saint, but as long as I've known him, he hasn't seemed to really be motivated by greed. Love? Revenge? Hurt? Yes, to all of those, but not greed."
"My thoughts exactly," Gawain said with a nod. "No doubt he's changed much since he was that eight-year-old lad I once knew, but in essentials he's the same. He was always ruled by his heart."
"Guys…" she said casting a desperate look around the group. "I want to believe all of this. I do! But, I guess I'm just afraid. I'm afraid of getting my heart crushed again. This pain is bad, but to have false hope? That would kill me."
Her dad took the talisman from Lancelot, placed it gently in her hand, and closed her fingers around it. "This symbolizes everlasting love, as I told you years ago. Perfect love. And I tell you this, perfect love casts out fear. You need only take that tiny leap of faith and believe in your love."
She looked at him for long moments. "I'm not sure I am strong enough to take that leap."
He wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders. "Then lean on us until you regain your strength."
Notes:
-And with Black making the transition to the Wicked Witch of the West and taking over the Enchanted Forest, the long, long ago storyline comes to a close.
-Well, I think this chapter was marginally less painful than the last one! I don't know what's wrong with me, but I really kind of liked the Hook/Morgana scene. She's so incredibly evil, and he's not, but he's well able to hold his own.
-The knights flat out refuse to believe Hook's story. Will their confidence convince Emma? Will she find a way to move past the fear and put her trust in the love that she knows deep down that Hook feels for her?
-Up next: Around 6 months ago in the Enchanted Forest, Snow and Charming are arrested and thrown into the Wicked Witch's dungeon. Rumple finishes preparing the ashes for Hook to use to create a portal to the Land Without Magic, and Tink offers him help in finding Emma again. Hook spends months searching, and finally finds Emma's apartment in New York. In present day Enchanted Forest, Emma and the knights return to Rumple's castle hoping to find several recruits in their war against Morgana. Henry resurrects Operation Captain Swan.