Chapter 21: Second Chances

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As the moon rose high in the courtyard just beyond his kingdom's southern walls, Arthur took in hand what remained of Excalibur, the once great sword, now broken, and the magic mirror Gawain had unwittingly stolen from the Nolan family strongroom. He dug the tip of the sword into his hand, squeezed three drops of his blood onto the surface of the mirror, and spoke the incantation just as he'd found it written in Merlin's books in the high tower.

And just as the books had said, the greatest sorcerer of all time appeared in a cloud of smoke.

"Arthur?" The wizard said with a shock. "Where am I? What is this?"

"You're dead, old friend. But I've summoned you back with the spell in your books."

Merlin gave the King a reproachful look.

"Neither you nor I have the power to summon a man from the grave, Wart. I'm merely a shade." Arthur clenched his fists at the sound of his childhood nickname.

"Be that as it may, I have a task for you, Merlin."

"You may have summoned me for your own purposes, but I've come with one of my own."

"Oh indeed?" Arthur nodded as he paced the room, "And what might that be?"

"A warning," Merlin said, his eyes following the king. "Abandon your quest, Arthur. Look to your own people, your own kingdom. Guinevere could not possibly be more lost to you than she is now."

"And how would you know that?" The king retorted with a sneer, "I thought you were just a shade."

"You will find there are not many things I don't know, even here, in the Underworld." Arthur rolled his eyes. "Moreover, I know she is lost to you because she is here. In the Underworld."

Arthur stopped his pacing and gaped at the ghost of the man who was once his tutor, friend, and ally.

"And Lance?"

"He too," the wizard said with a nod. Arthur dropped to his knees.

The only thing Arthur had known for certain was that the love of his life had disappeared with his best friend. Of course, the king of the broken kingdom couldn't bear the shame of admitting his queen had left him for another.

So he lied. He told the people she'd been kidnapped by a fiend from a rival kingdom. He'd made quite a show of negotiating a ransom, even working with the knights of the round table to plan a heroic rescue- only to receive evidence they'd been too late and the Guinevere had been killed trying to escape and return to Camelot. It was all very tragic, very compelling. The memorial service he'd held in her honor was so beautiful. Not a dry eye in the house. Only Arthur knew it was all a ruse.

It was his hope to find her one day, show her the progress he'd made, beg her to return, or cast a spell to make her love him again if all else failed. He'd hoped the Dark One could help him. How the people would rejoice to see their brave Queen had survived after all and returned to the kingdom once more.

If all else failed, perhaps he could remarry. The young Queen of the Enchanted Forest seemed as good an option as any. Even if she was a thieving witch with an obvious preference for the company of pirates, he was relatively sure he could manage her one way or another.

Arthur could see so many paths to strengthening his kingdom and had precious few moral scruples to get in his way.

But if the Dark One was gone and Guinevere was dead and Merlin truly couldn't (or wouldn't) help him, then his path to victory was growing more narrow and treacherous by the second.

"How did they die?"

"I suspect you know how," Merlin replied. Arthur stared at him for a long moment with a furrowed brow. "Did you hear nothing of what happened, where they might have gone when they left?"

Arthur's face fell. Indeed, he had heard. There'd been talk of Lancelot in the Enchanted Forest- that he'd become a great favorite of King David and Queen Snow. If he'd been living at court, then surely Guinevere would have been there too, albeit in disguise. And the Nolans, his sworn allies, surely must have known. How could they have betrayed him so?

Moreover, Arthur knew from talking to Emma that the vast majority of her people, the court, and the royal armies had been wiped out during the Dark One's siege, including her own parents. In fact, he'd heard it from the young queen herself that everyone near and dear to her parents had been killed by the same Dark One whose powers he'd hoped to enlist.

They'd betrayed him. All of them. And it had gotten them all killed.

Arthur clenched his fists, glaring at the wizard as he ground his teeth nearly hard enough to crumble them to dust.

"It's your fault. You gave me false prophecies, false hope, an impossible quest."

"Had you resisted the darkness, Arthur, none of this would have happened. Do not blame me for your own shortcomings."

"You ruined my life!" Arthur roared, drawing his sword and swinging it at the wizard. But the sword passed through him, causing the apparition to swirl like mist before resuming its shape once more.

"Put it away, Arthur. We both know that broken sword can't hurt me," Merlin replied coolly. Arthur nodded in apparent defeat, pursing his lips and taking a moment to collect his composure once more.

"Perhaps not," the king replied, "You're nothing but a puff of smoke, the ghost of a great man." Arthur looked up at that, "But Emma is flesh and blood. And once we're wed, I'll use this broken sword to end her pathetic life in recompense for her parents' betrayal. Then I'll trade your sad, broken kingdom for hers- a great kingdom on the rise, in need of a great king."

"Arthur, please," Merlin implored, backpedaling, "I beg you to see reason. This quest will not bring them back to you. The promise of vengeance is sweet, but the taste is exceedingly bitter."

"Is it indeed?" Arthur laughed darkly before turning away, "We shall see."

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For the next few days, it seemed as if Emma and Killian were floating on a cloud of bliss. And in the fleeting hours they could be alone together, they really were.

It was when they were apart that the troubles loomed, casting great shadows of doubt on their happily ever after. In their own hearts and minds, they were as committed to each other now as they could ever be, their vows made in secret and sealed with a thousand searing kisses, were as solemn and real to them as if they'd shouted them from the mountain tops or from the dais in the great chapel with the whole kingdom watching.

The trouble was, for the first time in the history of her kingdom, true love wasn't enough.

And though neither of them spoke that truth aloud to each other, it was one they knew all too well.

Emma was resolved to find a way around the law. She spent hours searching through scroll after scroll, poring over the massive tomes that held her country's historical records, hoping to find anything that would give her the right to choose her husband, noble birth be damned.

Killian was supportive and helped where he could, but ultimately, resigned to his fate. After all, the world he'd grown up in wasn't filled with miracles and true love conquering all. He hoped they could find a way to work around the law or change it, so they could be together. But with each passing day after Emma's coronation, the three week deadline felt ever nearer. Each morning- when he crept out of her bed and stole away to his own- felt like another nail in the coffin.

Killian stripped down to his shirt and trousers and fell flat on his back on his oversized bed. It was nearly mid morning, but perhaps another hour of sleep would help his mood. He did try for a while, but he couldn't quite manage to quiet his thoughts enough to find rest. He sighed deeply and ran his one hand, thoroughly scarred from a life at sea, through his thick, dark hair. Try as he might, hope and sleep eluded him.

"I love you, Emma. I loved you the very moment we met. I suspect I'll always love you. And I'll have you on whatever terms you'll allow."

How many times had he said those words to her, and how deeply he meant them. But with each passing day, it seemed the 'terms' were growing ever darker and more difficult to face.

His dreary thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a knock on the door to his chambers.

"Enter," He called, clearing his throat and scrubbing his hand over his face.

A young girl in servants' robes entered with her head bowed, bobbed in a quick curtsy, and shut the door behind her.

"I apologize, lass," He said, turning to gather his things, "I expect you're past due to start your cleaning duties here and I'm taking my sweet time about starting my day." He gave her a tight lipped, apologetic smile.

"Not at all, Hook," said a familiar voice from an unfamiliar face. Hook watched in horror as the girl's appearance transformed into the visage of a woman he knew all too well- the Evil Queen. Killian slowly turned to face her fully, keeping his eyes trained on her as he pictured mentally the exact spots on the table where he'd left his sword and his hook.

"Your grace," He replied, politely bowing, "What an unexpected honor."

"At ease, soldier," She snarked with a grin, "We both know I'm not 'your grace' anymore and I'm not here on courtly business either."

"Then why are you here?" He asked, cutting directly to the chase as he stood upright, careful to control his tone and his expressions. She may not be the Queen anymore, perhaps not even evil at that, but he knew well enough to be wary. After all, her plan had gone off without a hitch. They had yet to see if the reason she'd given for getting involved at all was the true one.

"It's simple enough," She replied, tossing a small object to him. He caught it, effortlessly, and looked down in disbelief.

"Another magic bean?" He raised an eyebrow, "Do you have a secret cache of these somewhere I should know about?" She laughed out loud.

"If I did, I certainly wouldn't tell you, pirate." Smoothing the folds of her dress, she slowly crossed the room to the window, "I understand you're having some trouble with a certain law and a certain Queen and a certain King standing in the way of your happily ever after."

"You seem very well informed," He stated with an air of suspicious nonchalance.

"Yes, well, old habits die hard," She replied as she turned to face him, her eyes locking with his, "And once again, your chance at happily ever after rests upon a magic bean in your hand."

"And how is that?" Killian asked, feigning ignorance.

"Use the bean to send Arthur away, perhaps to Neverland, perhaps to the land without magic. Believe me, he's a formidable enemy and won't stand for another man courting his wife in secret."

"I know few men who would, but does that make him worthy of banishment? And does his kingdom deserve to be bereft of their king?"

"My, my, quite the diplomat you've become, Hook!" Regina laughed. "Perhaps you're right. Or perhaps they'd fare better without him. It's really not my place to judge."

"Nor mine," Hook replied, raising his hands in innocence and then bracing them behind him on the table as he leaned back against it. One step closer to his hook and his sword should he need them.

"Very well then, use it to take Emma to a new land. Start anew together wherever the wind may take you. A life at sea seemed to suit you both just fine. Or perhaps you could return to Neverland? What a long and happy life you might have there."

"And leave the kingdom to you?"

Regina shrugged in reply.

"If the people of the Enchanted Forest decided to give me another chance to rule them justly, as I should have done in the first place, I wouldn't turn them away. Or perhaps they're ready to rule and govern themselves. You've already rid the land of the Dark One. What could possibly go wrong?"

Killian tried hard to keep his expression neutral. But Regina was the more experienced of the two at courtly manners.

"Or perhaps the people would prefer to follow you and rebuild their lives in a land that wasn't filled with painful memories of the past. It matters not," She said with a smile, crossing the room to take his hand in hers and squeeze it tightly. Her eyes softened as they searched his. "What matters is that you and Emma have a chance, a true chance at a truly happy ending. You know you can't have that here."

Killian did know. He lowered his eyes to the ground. He should refuse. He should throw the bean at her head and tell her to leave, call for the guards, have her arrested, grab for his hook and plunge it right in her dark and shriveled heart, if she even had one.

But the thought of finding a way to escape his bleak and looming fate was far too tempting. And when he finally found the strength to raise his eyes and send her away, he found he was too late.

He was alone in his room with the bean in his hand, his stomach churning with a mixture of hope, fear, and mistrust.

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A/N: She's baaaaaaaack! Anybody still out there? Decided quarantine was as good a time as any to finally crack down and finish this beast. I have a few more chapters mapped out to the end. Let's do this thing!