Back again. This is a slightly shorter chapter than normal, but i decided i wanted to make the most of the action to come, rather than cramming it all in as quickly as possible. I hope you enjoy, thank you to everyone out there who is still reading, you inspire me to go on.
Walsh howled in pain as he was tossed mercilessly through the air, again and again, colliding with the hard, stone walls of the cellar, his mistress showing no signs of relenting. Her other minions cowered in the corners, chattering nervously, but not daring to cry out for fear of the witches wrath.
"You lose the Saviour then, being the pitiful piece of slime you are, dare to try and hide from me? Not only that, but you force me to act before I'm ready by kidnapping that worthless pirate!"
She threw him once more, his body cracking brutally before crumpling to the ground.
"The heroes will be moving now, curse or no curse, the Saviour will have found a way to compel them into siding with her; they'll be gearing up for a battle that was never meant to be!"
Walsh shrieked as her heeled boot slammed down on his hand, the owner dropping low, spitting her next words like poison directly into his ear.
"If I didn't still have need for you, you'd be dead already."
Zelena slowly straightened herself up, a terrifyingly cool facade settling over her features as she began to pace the length of the room, the monkeys shrinking impossibly further back into the shadows.
"Plan A is obviously out of the window; I don't wish to demolish the poor excuse of a woman who doesn't even know she ruined my life, doesn't even know the meaning of evil, no, if I'm going to fight I will fight Regina properly, I'll defeat the Evil Queen and no one else."
Turning sharply, she began another lap, contemplating the necessary actions that would have to be set in motion if her desires were to be met.
"The only way for me to destroy my sister is to first break this damned curse she cast."
One of her minions let out a soft noise of dismay, quickly silencing as the Witch turned her wicked eyes upon him.
"Oh," she murmured, approaching slowly to caress its feathered wings, "don't be afraid, my pretty, you're quite right to be upset. Breaking the curse means all the heroes remembering who they are, making the battle just that much harder but, it has to be done if I'm to truly prove that, while evil may be powerful, wicked always wins."
Her quarry grew more agitated with the building anticipation, wings starting to beat and feet stomping the ground, as Zelena continued to plot.
"Everyone knows there is only one way to break this curse: True Loves Kiss."
The witch sighed heavily, tossing her cloak behind her, beginning the ascent out of the cellar.
"I had planned on stealing the Saviour's powers, but it seems I have a different use for Captain Hook's lips after all. Consider yourself lucky, Walsh," she sneered at her servant, "that you didn't botch the job and kill him by accident."
"Come my pretties," Zelena cackled, waving her hand so that the cellar door burst open, bathing her army in the cold light of day, "we have a curse to break."
~E&K~
David cursed quietly as Emma once again maneuvered the blade from his hand, the metal clattering to the ground for what felt like the thousandth time.
"I need a break," he muttered, wiping off the sweat from his brow, before going over to check on Mary-Margaret, who was trying to pick up on the finer points of archery from an extremely patient Robin. He'd only had to hit the ground once, for a single misfired arrow, but that event perfectly summed up his and Emma's attempts at heroics class one-o-one.
She felt so close to tossing in the towel, admitting defeat and making plans to move Storybrooke underground; surely the community wouldn't mind living as mole-people as long as it meant that they were alive rather than dead or a flying monkey. Still, that wasn't what being the Saviour of Fairytale Central actually meant, so instead, she heaved a deep sigh and gestured for Killian to join her in the makeshift ring they'd set up in the woods.
The pirate had been sat in the shade with her son and Regina, the former doing his best to give his own individual pointers as well as updating them on the forgotten events of their lives, going through page after page of his treasured storybook.
Killian had only been half-listening to the many tales of adventure, romance, curses and dragons, instead choosing to pay more attention to David's lesson, trying to take in as much as possible, ready for his turn. He could see that Swan was doing her best, but considering that she said she had learned all of her skills from the two men she was currently trying to teach, and that their instruction had been given in short bursts before and during a trip to Neverland (that one he still couldn't quite get his head around) mastering swordsmanship, in this case, was a very apparent uphill battle for all of them.
Still, he was determined to try, determined to get his subconscious to actually play ball and wield the vicious-looking sword strapped to his side like he knew he supposedly could.
"Take your stance," Emma said, once he was within the confines of the ring, instantly taking up her first position, as he clumsily tried to remember everything she'd told him the first time. Her barely suppressed sigh and increasingly lined forehead told him that he was failing miserably.
Seeing his obvious frustration, Emma shoved her cutlass point first into the dirt, striding over and taking up position behind him.
"It's okay."
Killian tried desperately to not react to the sensation of her breath caressing his neck, his self-restraint made even harder as she placed one hand on his hip, the other reaching around to take hold of his wrist, kicking his feet further apart and bending his arm slightly until he fell into the acceptable stance.
"Remember," she murmured, "It's just like riding a bike, stop thinking so much and just try to feel the movement."
She began to maneuver his arm in a series of thrusts and parries, Killian relaxing into the required frame, allowing his muscles to feel all of her manipulations, locking each action into his memory.
He continued to move, maintaining the rhythm that Swan had established, his feet beginning to feel out the patterns as she let go and he began to move around the ring.
Emma smiled quickly, rushing over to grab her own blade and falling quickly into position, before launching one of her surprisingly swift attacks.
Killian didn't know how, but he suddenly found himself reacting, his body seemingly moving of its own accord, countering every one of her strikes. At one point he managed to spin, catching her off guard as she was forced to raise her sword to block his attack from higher up. There was a glimmer of something in her eye as he felt her foot collide with his midsection, not too forcefully, but enough to send him back and slightly off balance. Her blade continued to flash through the air and, instinctively, he raised his hook, catching her sword in mid-air and flicking it away with a twitch of his wrist leaving her panting and weaponless.
"Holy shit," he mumbled, lowering his sword and staring at Swan, who was grinning like an idiot.
"Muscle memory," she spoke breathlessly.
"Muscle memory," he replied, looking down at his hook in shock. Had he really just done that?
It was very apparent that he had from Henry's whooping and from Dave's stunned expression.
"Not bad, Jones." Emma had appeared at his side, shoving the strands of hair that had got loose from her ponytail off of her head, "We might make a pirate out of you yet."
"Here's hoping," he mumbled, going back to his spot under the tree, replaced in the ring by a suddenly far more determined Regina. It was as if his little, unexpected display had set off some kind of reaction in the group, Mary-Margaret suddenly far more intent upon her target, taking up the bow with new-found ease, David grabbed the wooden practice swords to face off with Henry, and the Mayor was starting to hold her own a little bit against Swan.
Perhaps there was still hope for their little ragtag group.
But, then again, perhaps not.
The air suddenly seemed to change, as the leaves on the ground picked up, a sudden apparition of green smoke revealing an equally green woman.
Everyone, himself included, looked shocked, Emma and Robin reacting the fastest and rushing forward, weapons raised to strike.
"Now, now," cackled the witch, "there's no need for that, not yet anyway. I've only come to talk."
"So talk," hissed Emma, not lowering her sword an inch, keeping it levelled at the woman's throat.
"I just came to warn you, Saviour, you have today to prepare yourself, but tomorrow," she disappeared, only to be revealed mere inches away from her face, "I'll unleash the full force of my army and you and this pathetic band of 'heroes' will be powerless to stop me. I will have revenge on my sister," she spat, eyes rounding on Regina who had somehow managed to mask her fear, remaining expressionless, "and Storybrooke will perish."
Emma refused to blink, staring the woman down just as hard, even when she continued to laugh maniacally.
"Until tomorrow, Emma Swan, enjoy your family while you can." And with that, she vanished just as quickly as she had appeared.
~E&K~
She was slumped back on the familiar couch in her parent's loft; lacking their memory or not, their typical rendezvous point remained the same. It was clear that Zelena was haunting them all, her appearance and the absolute affirmation that Emma and Henry had, in fact, been telling the truth, enough to startle them all into silence. While her parents and Regina contemplated the meaning of their own existence, Emma was far too preoccupied with the witch's words, the deadline now hanging like a knife over her head. There was no way in hell that they were ready to fight this war, Killian had only just managed that one brief breakthrough, David, Mary-Margaret and Regina weren't even close. That left her, Robin and whichever of his Merrymen were either brave enough or stupid enough, to follow him into battle; far too few of them to take on Zelena and win.
She didn't know what to do, didn't know what her next move was supposed to be. As the Saviour, these people, this town, everyone was depending on her whether they knew it or not; but what could she do when there was no next good thing, no next right step to take. Even if she fought alone, what would likely end up being her sacrifice, wouldn't be enough to save them, and then they would all be left unprotected, her whole family; her parents, Henry...Killian.
Emma glanced his way, unsurprised to find him looking back at her intently, waiting, always waiting for her next decision. No matter how much she wanted to, she knew there'd be no keeping him away from this fight unless she physically knocked him down and tied him up; but even then, he'd proved one to many times how good he was at getting out of those kinds of binds, once a pirate, always a pirate. He seemed to be reading her mind, an arched eyebrow warning her not to even attempt it, the fire in his eyes blazing bright and stoically with that same grit, he always seemed to carry with him.
After his close call with Walsh, she'd had her crisis of confidence, the sudden feeling of intense loneliness she had felt looking at him and not finding the pirate captain that loved her, now she knew that that uncertainty had been entirely misplaced. No matter who he was, or what realm he was in, there seemed to be one ongoing and consistent truth; Killian Jones loved Emma Swan, and maybe, just maybe she loved him back.
That was what scared the shit out of her more than anything. Looking into his eyes, she was surprised at how she could be so willfully ignorant as to ignore what she already knew, having seen it in Neverland, on the Jolly Roger, and at the Town Line as they stared down Pan's curse together and the inevitability of their story seeming to come to an end, before it had even truly started.
From the day she had pulled him out from underneath that pile of bodies, no matter what she may have said to the contrary, Emma Swan was not, and never would be, done with Killian Jones. This man, this pirate or deputy, or whatever he was, was destined to be a part of her life and nothing was going to stop that.
She didn't realise how hard she had been clinging to the memory of him whispering those three words to her, as the ominous thunder of dark magic had rolled overhead, didn't comprehend how she had been repeating them to herself like some kind of mantra whenever she had felt lost in this new horrific circumstance. More to the point, Emma Swan didn't know at what point she had started responding to those words in her head, with four of her own.
"I love you too."
The stakes had been raised. She was not only fighting for her family and her home anymore, she was fighting for her future, one where she managed to get all of the memories back and finally tell that damn pirate what he did to her, one where she could maybe, finally be truly happy. No more fear of abandonment, no more need to run, just acceptance, and joy, and love.
Emma chuckled quietly to herself, wondering at what point she had become so much her mother's daughter to be giving internal hope speeches, but that was a matter for later. For now, she turned to the group in front of her, drawing all of their attention, their shared determination and force of will resonating in her bones and causing the magic under her skin to ripple and spike. No matter what, the Charmings and their cohorts were not going to go down without a fight.
"Okay everybody, here's the plan."
