Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Once Upon a Time. This is story is not intended for profit, just as a tribute to the amazing writing, characters, and intricate plots therein.
Additional Disclaimer: The chapter title comes from Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera. Also, any dialogue you recognize comes directly from Once Upon a Time, and credit should go to the writers of the show.
Author's Note: I am so sorry for the delay! Between the craziness of the holidays and taking on more responsibilities at work, I got WAY behind on writing. I'm back to a place I feel comfortable posting again. Thank you for sticking around!
As always, a huge thanks to my beta, Willofthewisp!
Chapter 11: Twisted Every Way
With the dwarves standing sentry, Killian, Emma, Henry, and David were able to give in to exhaustion. After finding more-or-less clean bedding in one of the better-constructed cottages, Killian fell into a slumber that lasted most of the next day. He awoke in late afternoon from a sleep so deep he almost felt as if he were drugged with a crick in his neck, his body aching from the long, hard ride, then the tense stillness followed by the heated exertion of battle.
He winced, rolling his neck, and realized he was desperately in need of a wash. A stone well stood in the little square of the abandoned village, and by luck, it still had water that appeared clear and smelled fresh and clean. He figured it was good enough for a quick scrub, and took a bucket into the little cottage he had claimed.
After a quick wash to remove the dirt, dust, and sweat from the weeks of traveling and the battles he had fought, Killian re-dressed in his other spare shirt, knowing he would need to actually launder both soon, and set out to explore the village and find his fellow travelers. He found a long building near the center of town that boasted two chimneys, one at either end of the structure, which may have been the meeting hall for the original inhabitants. It seemed mostly intact, with only a few of the boards rotted out, although a small garden seemed to be growing in the cracks of the slate roof. Smoke curled out of one of the chimneys, so Killian stepped inside and stood a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the dim interior.
The area around the fireplace nearest the door had been transformed into a communal kitchen. A stag roasted over the dancing flames, and a pot of stew bubbled away on a hook to one side. There were stacks of unleavened bread along with fruit, vegetables, and cheese already on one of the tables. Killian's nose and stomach let him know just how hungry he was, one delighted with the scents and one cramping in complaint that he had not filled it properly in days. His first stop was to the stew pot, then over to the table for bread and a piece of fruit. No citrus, unfortunately. As a sailor, he was only too aware of the danger of scurvy. But there were apples and pears and ripe berries, and he was content with the bursts of sweetness they provided.
David waved him down to the end of the table where he and the dwarves sat eating over a rough map of the Enchanted Forest. It appeared David, too, had taken the opportunity afforded by the village to bathe and change clothes. He had even trimmed his beard close to his face, making him look younger and more like a warrior and a king than the thick, bristly bush his face had hidden behind as a simple shepherd.
Killian took a seat and tucked into his food. After yesterday's meals on the move, it felt almost decadent to sit down and eat, regardless of the mediocrity of the stew. The utensils were clean. The table was lit by actual candles. And then the dwarf Grumpy handed him a skein of wine, and another dwarf Killian could not recall the name of passed him a cup. All in all, a pleasant change to the last few weeks of constant travel.
"Cheers, mates. Much appreciated," he thanked them as he filled the cup. "Where did you find wine?"
"We brought it with us," the second dwarf said. "The stuff that was left here in the village had turned to vinegar."
"We did, however, manage to find some old clothing and shoes that the mice hadn't gotten to while we explored the village earlier," David said. "It's been washed and is hanging up to dry now. You can look through it to see if there's anything you can make use of. However, the food was all provided fresh by the dwarves and Red's pack. We'll need to find someone close by to trade with, though. We're running low on a lot of other supplies—oil to clean the swords, ointments for wounds, fresh clothing and bandages, and I wouldn't say no to more current maps of the area. These are a few decades old."
"We can do you one better," Grumpy said. "We've been mining in these mountains for five years now. We know all the little loops and pinches in this part of the Enchanted Forest, and we have allies we can ask for supplies and reinforcements. I know they'll agree to help us when we tell them of our plans."
"Good," David said, smiling. "Bring them as fast as you can. If we're going to defeat Regina and take back the kingdom, we'll need all the help we can get. Luckily, I noticed a forge in town earlier. It even has some scrap iron laying around."
"Now if only someone knew how to make weapons, we'd be all set," Grumpy said.
Killian decided not to mention his questionable smithing skills. With two hands, he could just about pass his work off as mediocre journeyman-level skill. With the one, he was lucky if he could produce a straight nail. Once he swallowed a mouthful of stew, and asked, "We'll be all set for what, exactly?"
The men looked at him as if he was missing something obvious.
"All set for preparing to battle Regina," David stated. "If we had a blacksmith, we would be able to forge more weapons for leading an assault against her forces."
"And where are her forces, exactly?" Killian asked. "She's the ruler of how many kingdoms now? Three? How many troops does she have? Are they volunteers or mercenaries? How thin or how concentrated are her forces throughout the realms? How quickly can she mobilize them?"
"This isn't my first campaign, pirate," David snapped at him. "These are all issues that we will have to take into consideration, along with dozens of others. I'm aware that we have gaps in our information that we need to fill before we attack, but we will fight."
"Will you? Because most importantly, what are you planning to do once you defeat her? Your daughter, last I checked, seemed fairly adamant that she would not accept the mantle of queen."
"Actually," the woman in question said, causing the men to look up in surprise. It must have been later in the evening than Killian had thought if the Princess was once again in human form. "What I said was, I don't think that trying to fight Regina is a good idea, period. I'm not a soldier. I'm not a Savior. And I'm not some figurehead for you to hold up to motivate your troops."
"Emma…" David stood up from the table and walked to stand in front of his daughter, cupping her shoulders. "Regina will just try again to get Henry back when she realizes her Knights have failed. As his mother, you have to keep him safe. And what about all the other people in our kingdom? You owe it to them—"
"I owe them?" she demanded, pulling away from him. "So you're saying that because of some prophesy or some destiny that I never chose, I'm supposed to be responsible for everyone's happiness? That is crap! I didn't ask for that, I don't want it!"
Emma pulled in a deep breath, hanging her head. Killian rose to his feet, almost stepping forward when he saw tears wetting her lashes that she refused to let fall. She swallowed twice before she was able to continue.
"Yes, I fought to get Henry back and to try to be his mother because that is all I can handle right now. And I'm not even doing a good job at that! I've only been his mother for five minutes, and already he's been kidnapped—twice—and attacked by trolls and Black Knights and who knows what else! Now you are telling me that I have to save everyone? That is beyond ridiculous. I don't want any of it!"
With that parting shot, she turned around and fled. The group was tense and uncomfortable as the men all tried to avoid one another's gazes. Killian attempted another of his meal, but the food turned to a hard lump in his mouth under the weight of the dismal atmosphere. Barely managing to swallow, he followed it up with his entire cup of wine and wished he had his flask to hand, as well.
"Not exactly her mother's daughter, is she?" Grumpy observed.
David shot the dwarf a furious look. "Shut it, Grumpy," David ordered. When the dwarf shrugged, holding up his hands in surrender, David sighed and rolled his shoulders. "Don't worry, I'll go after her."
"Do you think that's wise, mate?" Killian asked. "Might be better to let her cool off for a spell."
David hesitated, his jaw clenched, before he nodded. "Maybe you're right," he said, rejoining them at the table. The shepherd wrapped his hands around the cup of wine he pulled close, staring down into it the liquid as if it held answers for him.
Killian forced himself to eat the rest of his food. Given their luck so far, he wanted a full stomach. Who knew how long it would be until he had another meal as hearty as the one before him? He poured himself more wine to go along with the fruit, and when he was finished, he piled his dishes in a tub of water to be washed later.
Not willing to sit at the silent table with its morose occupants, he wandered outside and took a deep breath of night air. The sky was completely dark, and the waning gibbous moon stood bright above the tops of the evergreen points. Henry and Fay were a ways down the street, peering into the window of one of the abandoned houses. They both seemed happy enough, though the girl still wore a sling to support the shoulder that had been pierced by a silver-tipped crossbow bolt.
There was no sign, however, of Emma. He looked around and tried to determine where the Princess might have stormed off to after leaving them. He was not a tracker like Red or David, but he doubted he would need to be one in order to find her. Surely she could not be so foolish as to wander away from the village with no protection. There were Black Knights in the forest, not to mention wild animals and the immortal beasts like chimera and manticore who did not fear humans as a bear or wolverine might.
So that left one of the abandoned structures…like the old mill on the outskirt of town. There was a pond there, likely the one she had landed in last night, and it made a certain sense that in times of distress a swan would seek out water. He debated with himself for a few minutes. After all, he had just told David to give his daughter some time to cool off after her outburst. But, he reasoned, he and Emma had an unexpected rapport, and sometimes one could better take advice from an acquaintance than from a family member. Perhaps it would be better for him to talk to her first, before David. He may be able to convince her to fight for herself (and by extension, fulfill her destiny and aid him in his revenge) where her father was more interested in the good of the realm as a whole.
A few moments later, Killian found Emma sitting on a low stone wall, half crumbling and covered in grey moss next to the stagnant water with her elbows rested atop her knees as her fingers fiddled with the bandage on her left hand.
"That was quite a scene you made back there, Swan."
She jumped at his voice, and he could not help his pleased smirk in response. Her irritated glare was becoming one of his favorite expressions.
"You again?"
"Afraid so." He stepped up beside her and leaned his hip against the wall. "Tell me, since you don't care for your father's plan, you must have one of your own to keep Henry from his adoptive mother's clutches?"
"Firstly, that woman is not his mother," she began, but he waved her assertion away. It made no difference at all, frankly. The woman had stood in a mother's place for the boy for ten years, regardless of the circumstances. "And as for my plan…I don't see why we can't just leave the Enchanted Forest altogether. Go to a new Realm and start over where no one knows us. Who knows, maybe my curse will stay here in the Enchanted Forest, as well."
"And if it doesn't?" he prompted.
"If it doesn't…" she floundered, trailing off. Then she set her lips in a tight line. "Then I can live with that, as long as I have Henry, and we're safe."
Stubborn woman. He wanted to shake her. He had never met anyone so obstinate and short-sighted. Did she really believe that simply leaving would solve all of her problems?
Before he could say another word, Emma fired a return volley. "Who's Milah?"
He rocked back on his heels, the breath knocked out of him at her name. Milah. His Milah. It felt like ice water had been dumped down his neck, realizing that he had not thought of her all day. His breath hitched, and his jaw tightened. Even now, up to the second that he had heard her name, he had been more concerned with Rumpelstiltskin than with Milah. "How—?"
"I saw the tattoo on your wrist yesterday," she explained. "Is she the reason you're so hell-bent on killing Rump—"
"Don't!" he cut her off with a sharp finger. His jaws ached from how tightly he clenched his teeth. His heart pounded as he curled his finger back into a fist to keep his composure. That she had guessed so easily set the hair on his neck rising.
Emma jutted her chin up. "Who was she?"
"Someone from long ago," he rasped. Images of Milah smiling, laughing, fighting, drawing, sleeping, all spilled across his mind. How dare Swan just throw her name out like it was nothing?
Because she was making a point, of course. How dare he, in turn, bring up such painful issues for her? But there was a difference. He was fighting for his love. Emma was running. She needed someone to tell her she was being an idiot.
He shook his head, forcing himself back to the conversation. "She's also not the issue right now. The issue is that you have no plan beyond running. As content as you think you'll be abandoning the Realm and running off with your boy, it's not enough."
"It can be," she insisted. "It can be enough for me, for Henry. We can have a fresh start and a chance of being happy without evil queens and Black Knights."
"Except for all the things you'll be leaving behind, part of you's not the real you, Princess," he paused, letting her title sink in. "And like it or not, a big part of you and Henry belongs in this Realm with your family."
After all this time, if he had the chance to reunite with Liam, suddenly back from the dead, he would jump at it. He knew from watching Emma with her father that their relationship was a close one—or it had been, before the Queen had destroyed their lives—as was Emma's connection with her godmother and honorary uncles. The newly formed bonds between Henry and everyone around him were growing to be just as strong. To deprive them both of those relationships would tear open the wound on her heart that years of solitude and the belief that her family was dead had torn.
"Yeah, the part of us that's always in danger," she returned. "We're leaving. It's for the best."
"What's best for Henry, or for you?" he challenged her.
"Excuse me?" she demanded, frowning at him.
"You talk about danger all you like, but it isn't that." He paced toward her, wanting to make her see. "So tell me, what is it? Why are you so scared of staying, of fighting for your kingdom?"
It baffled him that this woman who was so strong, who others rallied around so readily, did not see herself as a leader. She had admitted that she had abdicated her claim in favor of her younger brother…was it simply that she felt useless if she was not able to break a curse? Was that it? She was the farthest thing from useless or powerless that he had ever seen. There was such strength in her and the ability to be a leader. He saw it in Emma just as his brother and commanders at the naval academy had seen it in him. But where Killian had been encouraged and supported, had Emma been stifled?
With the remnant of her family that he had seen, he could not imagine it was that, and yet…
Emma stepped away from him, turning her whole body as she put distance between them. She shook her head. "I don't have to have this discussion with you."
"You have to have it with someone. And I hate to break this to you, but your father does have a point," he reminded her. "The quickest way to break your curse is to kill the person that placed it."
"Or True Love's Kiss," she added.
"Oh, and you have someone you truly love conveniently waiting to kiss you?"
"It doesn't have to be romantic love," she argued, rather pedantically he felt. "When I was first transformed, I looked for people who were more versed in magic than I am. There was a man, a hermit in the forest who said that true love can mean a lot of things. Yes, it can be romantic, but true love can also be friendship, loyalty, or family. It just requires that what you feel is powerful and true and real, and it has to be reciprocated by someone who is not cursed."
"Ah, now there's the rub, isn't it?" he asked. "Because I saw your father kiss your forehead when we first arrived at that sanctuary of yours, but the curse remains. Something has tainted your filial love. Anger?" he guessed. "Abandonment? You were alone for a decade; how could he have stopped looking for you, his own daughter? You are his only living child, and he stopped searching for you within a few years."
"Shut up."
"What about your godmother?" he asked. "The same, apparently. She also gave you up as lost and went on to find herself a new little family. And your son? You don't really even know him, and you didn't raise him, so you can't truly love him yet, either, as much as you want to."
"Shut! Up!" she shouted at him, springing to her feet.
This was stupid. Provoking her, making her angry, it was the wrong approach to take with her, and he knew that. But he had to make her see that running was useless. Pointless. And he knew of no other way than to confront her to make understand. Running would accomplish none of what she wanted and left too many people, himself most prominently, without their hope of a happy ending. Without the help of the Savior, how was he to get close enough to the Crocodile to kill him? Milah would never be avenged. He would lose the one purpose he had in life, and then what? If this obstinate Princess would not live up to her destiny as the Savior, how would he ever get what he had wanted for so bloody long?
"Your choices are limited, love," he insisted. "You have to defeat the Evil Queen, and then go on to do…whatever it is that a Savior does. You don't have any other viable choice."
"I already told you! I told everyone! I'm not a hero. And Regina is a powerful sorceress. Exactly how and I supposed to defeat her?" she demanded, throwing up her hands. "Some clarification would have been nice when whoever it was decided to make me the so-called Savior. If you've got any ideas, I'd love to hear them, because so far, the best one I've come up with is 'get the hell out of the Enchanted Forest.'"
He stood up, leaning into her face. "This may come as a surprise to you, Swan, but I didn't join this quest for my health. I came because I want my happy ending: the Dark One dead, preferably by my hand."
"Well, tough luck because I can't promise you that," she argued back. "I can't promise anything."
"Then why the bloody hell should I stay here, Swan? I've delivered Henry to his mother as I promised him I would. What point is there in sticking around to wait for you to hare off to another realm, leaving behind everyone who has come to count on you?"
"I didn't ask for you to count on me! I never once said that I would fight for you or anyone other than my son! And no one is forcing you to stay!"
He paced away once and immediately turned back around, gesturing wide with his good hand. "You won't even fight for yourself! I'm not even sure you truly know why."
"I am doing the best I can—"
"You're doing nothing! You have a kingdom depending on you, and all you want is what is best for you."
"Look who's talking!" she shouted back. "You just said the only reason you're here is to get revenge on the Dark One. You don't care about the curse. You don't actually care that Regina has destroyed countless lives. All you care about is killing someone! I'm at least trying to have a life."
His muscles stiffened and he leaned away from her. It was not far enough, so he stepped away—one step, two. He clenched his jaw and felt his molars grinding together. Stubborn, pigheaded, myopic…
"You're right," he said, keeping his voice steady. "I don't care. There are plenty of heartless rulers out there, in this Realm and in many others. One more wreaking havoc means nothing to me. Do what you want—or don't do anything for all I care."
He turned and walked away, his fury boiling and churning in him stronger than he had felt since Neverland. He had lost sight of his objective, and he had done nothing but suffer for it. Rumpelstiltskin knew he had returned to the Enchanted Forest. He was without the Dreamshade poison. He was no closer to his revenge.
And worse, far worse, was that for a short time during this journey, while spending time first with Henry, then David, and finally that first night at the mountain lake during his conversation with Emma, he had forgotten his mission. He had forgotten Milah. His heart had not felt broken. He had, for a time, stopped feeling as if there were no future for himself. He had had a mission and a purpose beyond revenge, and in losing sight of that, he had lost her.
And he would be damned to the darkest hell if he would allow that happen.
He stormed across the village to the cottage he bunked in and gathered up his things in his satchel. He wrapped his sword belt around his waist, fastened it, and resettled his jacked over the weapon. After he slung the strap over his head, he made his way to the stable yard and found the gelding he had ridden the day before. He threw on the blanket, tossed the bridle over the horse's head, and lifted the saddle on its back. He did not bother with food. He would find something on the way. He would steal if he had to.
"Where are you going?"
He froze at Henry's query. "I thought you were exploring with Fay."
"I was," Henry said. "But then I saw you rush across practically the whole village. I called out to you, but I guess you didn't hear me. Are you alright?"
He turned slightly, allowing the boy to see only the side of his face as he attempted a smile. "Perfectly. Why don't you run along and find something to do?"
"Mmm-no," Henry said, balancing from foot to foot. "Something's wrong. What happened?"
"It's none of your concern, lad," he said, taking the reins in his hand and starting out of the stable. "I've just decided that my work here is done. I'm going back to my ship. I never intended to stay away so long."
"But, but—the quest! Defeating the Evil Queen!" Henry exclaimed, jogging to keep up.
"Defeating the Evil Queen was never my quest, lad," he pointed out. "It was always yours, and I wish you luck with it. But perhaps you should see if your mother is on the same page with you. I think you may be surprised by her answer."
"But-but…" the boy stuttered. "I don't understand! What's going on? Why wouldn't she want to complete her quest? It's her destiny! And you have to stay and help! There's a reason you're here! The fairy Nova said so! I'm sure it's not an accident that I found you, and you agreed to help me, I'm sure of it!"
Killian dropped the reins, sparing a thought to curse, for the ten millionth time, the fact that he only had one hand, and grabbed the boy by the arm. "I don't care what you think you're sure of. You're wrong about this. Now go find your mother or your grandfather or someone else to bother."
He pushed Henry away, barely able to restrain himself from adding real force behind the shove, and mounted his horse. He had only a second to register David and Red leave the meeting hall, looking on in confusion as he rode away. David called out in confusion, but he didn't bother to look back. To hell with them. To hell with all of them. He'd kept his word, returned Henry to his mother, and helped the shepherd find his daughter. He was finished with this ridiculous quest, and he cursed himself a thousand times for agreeing to it in the first place.
He left the town at a gallop and only slowed to a walk once he was well away. It was still night, and the horse did not want to travel any farther than it had to with a strange rider and no visibility. He urged the beast on as best he could, but since he was operating on only a rudimentary knowledge of the forest, following the stars to lead him east, to the coast, Killian was forced to allow the horse to set its own pace for hours. He avoided the bridge that he and David had sabotaged the day before since he was still not sure how much damage was cosmetic and how much of the bridge was legitimately decayed. Instead, he went further south, along the ridgeline.
It was nearly dawn when he spotted another village slightly below him on the mountainside. This time, the village was inhabited. There were laundry lines strung between homes and near-by trees, animals in pens in the yards, and the occasional dog standing guard over livestock. There were no lights in any of the windows yet. After a quick glance to the sky, Killian noted that the moon had set. Emma would have returned to her swan form by now. In the east, beyond the canopy of the forest, the sky was beginning to lighten. He could wait an hour more before he approached the settlement to avoid causing unnecessary concern amongst the inhabitants.
He dismounted from the horse, glad to give his backside a rest. The horrible creature had been bouncing him around the last few miles, intent on letting his new rider know that it did not appreciate the late hours or the unpracticed seat. Killian fished out his flask and took a deep swallow, lamenting that the liquid was water instead of the rum he had wasted on Emma's hand.
After leading the horse to a clearing to graze and rest, Killian found a boulder and sat to watch the sun come up. He felt his eyelids begin to drop. Even having slept the day away, the night had been wearying. He fought to stay awake, but was losing the battle when a voice in the darkness caused his heart to slam into double-time.
"Lovely view, isn't it?"
Killian was on his feet, sword in his hand, before he even took a breath and found himself facing the woman from the mirror. The Evil Queen, Regina. She was even more beautiful in person. The years that had marred David lay gently upon the Queen. Her face still only had delicate lines around the eyes, and the silver streak in her hair added a dramatic flair to the dark pompadour crowing her head. But even in the faint light of pre-dawn, he could see the warning flash of color on her lips—blood red. She wore a heavy coat of glossy black feathers with a high collar over a black brocade gown. At the very least, he could appreciate her almost piratical use of color to intimidate.
"Your Majesty," he greeted her. "To what do I owe this honor?" Then he squinted, cocking his head. "And how did you find me?"
"It was simple enough," she said, smiling. "Any reflective surface can act as a mirror, and with a mirror, I can find anyone."
Killian looked over at the bridle on his horse. Or more specifically, he looked at the shining metal links amongst the leather. Hell, even his own hook reflected a silver beam of moonlight.
He ground his teeth, but refused to let her cow him. He smirked, choosing to go on the offensive. "I would have assumed, after we foiled your attempt yesterday, you would be busy attempting to regain Henry and kill his mother."
"I am Henry's mother," she corrected him, her voice low and smooth, like poisoned rum. He wondered if she realized how like Emma she sounded. But her movements and gestures, the predatory glide of her walk as she stalked around him, always just out of reach of his sword, was anything but similar to the unstudied movements of the Princess. "I have raised him since he was an infant, soothed every fever, endured every tantrum. That spoiled little princess may have given birth to him, but he is my son."
She ceased pacing and forced herself to calm, briefly closing her eyes, before she shook herself free of her irritation. "But to return to your question, the reason I'm not hunting Snow White's daughter is because I am more interested in you at the moment. You see, I have an offer that you would be wise to accept, as I believe it will benefit us both."
"And what would that be, Your Majesty?"
She pulled her lips back from her teeth in a predatory smile. "I have come to understand that you are looking for a way to kill Rumpelstiltskin."
He tensed at the name, remembering what Henry said about the Crocodile's ability to hear his name spoken throughout the Enchanted Forest. The last thing he needed was for the demon to find out he had left the protection of David and Henry, and made himself an easy mark, alone in the forest. His grip on his sword hilt tightened, and he cast about, looking for any tell-tale purple smoke in the forest.
"Oh, don't worry, dear," the Queen said, waving his concern away. "He can't hear me when I say his name. I made sure of that a long time ago. And while you're with me, that protection extends to you. I assure you, we're completely safe from the Dark One while we speak." She smirked and tilted her head coquettishly. "So, I take it my information was correct?"
"Aye," Killian confirmed. "What exactly is your offer?"
"I will help you with your vendetta against Rumple," she offered, sidling in close to place her delicate fingers on the flat of his blade, pushing is aside so that she could move in so close he could smell her subtle perfume, like apples and amber and mink. "And in return, you will help me get my son back."
"Return Henry to you?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "And why do you think I would do that? I just spent several weeks attempting to reunite him with the woman who gave birth to him, not to mention a battle with your Knights to keep him with Princess Emma. They both seem very happy with the arrangement. And as for my revenge against the Dark One…" He leaned in close to her face. "I don't need your help."
"Oh, but you do," she countered. "I assume you have some weapon at your disposal that will allow you to kill him. I admit, I have never come across such a thing while searching this Realm, and I've searched for years. But how do you intend to get close enough to him to use that weapon?"
Killian rolled his tongue over his teeth and swallowed down the hot bile that threatened to rise. That, of course, had been his problem since arriving the Enchanted Forest. That had been what he had counted on the supposed Savior to provide him with—an opportunity.
"You see?" Queen Regina said, lifting her shoulders in a neat shrug. "You need my help."
Fine, he could admit that. Killian nodded, finally sheathing his sword since it appeared he would not be using it. He did have one question, however. "Why would you offer to help me kill Rumpelstiltskin?"
The Queen pursed her lips and stepped away from him to take a seat on the boulder he had vacated. "Many years ago, Rumpelstiltskin was captured and imprisoned in a cell by my stepdaughter and her so-perfect friends. But even there, he managed to do what he does best: corrupt, ruin, sabotage…kill. As I believe you well know?"
Milah…
"Aye, I do," he admitted. "Who did he take from you?"
Regina pulled in a breath and held it for a moment before she answered, "My father. Rumple managed to manipulate one of his guards, and when I chose a different path than the one the Imp wanted me to walk…he sent the guard to run my father through the heart. I think he saw it as fitting punishment for my refusal to use that heart to cast Rumpelstiltskin's Dark Curse."
He remembered David telling him about the Dark Curse that had hung over the Enchanted Forest, the one that Emma had been meant to break. It was meant to have destroyed everything in its path, and Regina was the one who was poised to cast it. But…to use her own father's heart to cast a terrible curse meant to destroy the land? Only a sick and malicious mind could come up with a plot so foul. And when Regina had refused, turned away from murdering her own family, Rumpelstiltskin had taken him away from her anyway. Gods, if everything he knew of the Crocodile had not made him believe he was a monster, then that alone would have assured it.
But he still hesitated. The Queen had been the Crocodile's student, if he remembered correctly. Surely she would have learned from her teacher the art of making deals that benefitted her and swindled her ally.
"So you will help me—and yourself—dispatch the Dark One in return for Henry?" Killian repeated to ensure that he understood the bargain. He wanted there to be no loophole that may later become a noose. "And what of Emma? Do you think the lad will forgive you for murdering his mo—pardon." He offered the Queen a slight bow of deference. "The woman who bore him? He ran from you once. Kill Emma, and he will never stop."
Regina sneered and rose from her seat to stalk the clearing, her feathered cape rustling with her movements. "I suppose you may be right." She turned back to him, smiling. "You seem quite concerned for the Swan Princess. And yet you abandoned her?"
Killian offered his own tight smile. "I admire her fortitude. Do I want her dead? No. But, as she is unable to help me with my revenge, I felt it best to leave. I have my own quest to finish."
The Queen regarded him silently for a moment. She then inclined her head once in a royal acknowledgment. "To each their own, I suppose." She wandered back toward him and stopped within arms' reach. "I concede your point about killing the Princess. Emma's death will only make me look bad in Henry's eyes, and I don't want him to see me as…as the Evil Queen. Besides, my revenge was completed when Snow White died. Everyone else was just icing, so to speak. In that case, I will make the Swan the same offer I once made her mother."
She took a deep breath, and when she spoke, her voice rang out, making her words into a proclamation, and Killian nearly laughed at her theatrics. "The Princess will live. I'll even remove the transformative curse from her. But in return, she must renounce all claim to her birthright, and name me as the rightful ruler of the Northern Kingdom, Terrapomuria, and Saint-George. And then she must leave the Enchanted Forest, forever."
"Did you have a destination for her in mind?" Killian wondered. The Princess "leaving the Enchanted Forest" sounded a lot like one of those loopholes to him.
"Anywhere," she said, waving off the concern as if it were a trifling matter not to concern a Queen. "There are plenty of other Realms where she can live out the remainder of her life. As soon as she picks one, I'll toss her into a portal myself."
Despite the Queen's less than friendly attitude toward the Princess, Killian considered her proposition on Emma's behalf. What Regina offered was almost exactly what Emma claimed to want. The only point of contention was Henry. There was no way Emma would willingly give him up now that she had him. She had fought like a tigress to get him back when the Queen's men had taken him.
Was there any way for Emma to take the boy with her when she left, secretly? Or, if secrecy was not to be had, at least could she snatch Henry quickly enough that the Evil Queen had no chance to stop their escape? Of course, if Henry disappeared, the offer of the Queen's help in Killian's quest to kill the Dark One would also no doubt be revoked. How could he get what he wanted without selling out the Princess or the boy?
But did he actually need to worry about what happened to them? Henry had hardly been abused by the Queen. He had admitted to having been pampered, well-educated, and treated like the Prince he was. Could he really judge whether or not the Queen loved the lad? Perhaps she did. She was doing more than his own father had done, fighting to get the boy back instead of deserting him. And Emma had only had her son for a matter of days. Even if she managed to disappear with him, she and Henry would be forced to live as fugitives. That was no way for a child to live. Perhaps it would be best for Henry to be raised by the woman who could give him the most advantages. Growing up as the heir to a vast territory was nothing to sneeze at.
Surely Emma would see that. If she wanted to leave and have her curse removed, she would agree to Regina's offer. And as his mother, Emma would do what was best for Henry so that he would have his best chance. What better chance could a boy have than to grow up to become a king?
He nodded. "Aye, I agree to your plan, provided you're sincere about letting the Princess live. Emma only wants what's best for the boy."
"Wonderful," the Queen purred. "And you will take my offer to her yourself. She is to meet me at tomorrow at midnight…down there, in that squalid little town." She waved at the village below where the first lanterns were being lit to start the day. "Urge Emma to take my deal. Then, when she is gone, and I have my son…" She stepped back in close, her fingers curling in the lapel of his coat, her smile widening into something lascivious. "Then we can turn our attention to our mutual enemy."
"The Crocodile," he growled, already picturing the monster dead at his feet.
"Descriptive!" she exclaimed, cackling. "I like it."
He quirked an eyebrow at her and tossed back his own smirk to match hers.
"Yesss," she said, her sibilant hiss raising the hair on the back of his neck. "Rumpelstiltskin will die."
A/N: Don't be afraid! I do know what I'm doing. Killian is experiencing some frustration, and we all know how well he deals with set-backs. He and Emma haven't known each other long yet, so he's still pushing at her to try and get what he wants rather than thinking about what is really best for her. For how, he's still in villain mode, and as Arial pointed out in "Poor Unfortunate Souls," villains always go about getting their happy endings the wrong way. He just needs a kick in the pants to realize that the wrong way is…well, really, really WRONG.
