The water is so cold, capped with ice and stirring with a winter breeze. Winter seeps through her skin and into her veins without mercy. She wishes that the waves would just slam her into a craggy arch of limestone, would knock her out as cold as the waters.

But they don't, they are more content to toss her about like a floppy stuffed animal until her lungs can take no more.

She supposes that, when you bed with a ruthless pirate, you are bound to get tossed to the waves. And so Emma sinks beneath the surface, wondering if Killian has met the same fate. She'd told them that it was a poor season for sailing.

The man is-was?-so stubborn. And this time they are both-or maybe she alone is-paying the price for it.

She closes her eyes and the cold wraps itself around her in a frigid hug. She feels fish swim past her and seaweed coil around her ankles. Her lifeforce begins to escape her in the form of clouds of bubbles.

And then there is a warmth. A strange warmth that wraps around her and she knows that she has finally died. How else could it be so pleasantly warm. She can't remember what happens next. The rush of water no longer sounds in her ears. The cold no longer burns her bones. She can't smell salt nor fish any longer.

And then she opens her eyes. And when she does the world comes back to life. Alive but somewhere entirely new. The sound of water is still there but it is muffled somehow and there is a fire crackling. Throwing shadows across the rocky walls of...of where ever she is. Perhaps a limestone cove? There are starfish and barnacles clinging to the wall. She knows that she is in the same waters because she can see chunks of ice drifting up to and knocking against the floor of this cavern.

It smells the same but different. Like ocean water and seaweed but there is the cozy smell of the fire and something like flowers. She can't name exactly which type. She hears the wind roar against the wall of the cove.

More pleasant than any of the other sounds, she hears a voice. "What ship was it?"

"Hmm?" Emma mumbles.

"What was the name of the ship that sunk?"

"The Jolly Roger. I was aboard the Jolly Roger." It isn't so jolly anymore.

The woman nods. Emma spots her resting her arms upon the rocks, mostly submerged in the frosty waters.

"Aren't you cold?"

She shakes her head. "I'm more than used to this. It's comfortable." Emma catches the flick of a tail-onyx black with an oil slick iridescent. She tilts her head.

"Not for me." Emma shudders. "Are you some kind of ice mermaid?"

The woman laughs. "There are no 'ice mermaids', I've simply adapted to the waters I was born in."

"Can you do magic?"

"How do you think I made the fire?" The woman asks. She heaves herself out of the water. In a shimmering swirl of purple light, she swaps her tail for legs. "Regina Mills." She holds out her hand.

Emma takes it, it is surprisingly warm.

"Can you take me home?"

She nods, I can eventually, yes." She replies. "But I was hoping that you could keep me company for the night. I don't come by many people; it's quite lonely."

"Don't you have other mermaids?"

She shakes her head. "I'm one of the few that has adapted to…" she gestures to the blocks of ice.

"Are you part seal by chance?"

She doesn't seem entertained by the remark. "I am not, no."

Emma laughs. "I was just joking. And, sure, I'll spend the night with you. You did save my life." She smiles.

At this the woman seems satisfied. She makes herself comfy in front of the fire. "Next time you plan on sailing I recommend doing so in better weather. I have so many stories of dead sailors." She holds up her necklace, the bones upon it crack together. "I found these at various wreck sites."

Emma quirks a brow, "that's a little morbid, don't you think?"

Regina shrugs. "It's an aesthetic."

"So you're an evil mermaid?"

She shakes her head. "I don't kill them, I simply make use of what they leave behind. You're thinking of sirens."

"Interesting." Emma replies. "Terrifying, but interesting."

Regina takes off her bracelet and puts it around Emma's wrist. "Don't worry, this one is made of fishbone."

"What's it for?"

"I would like to talk to you again after tonight, if you would do me the pleasure. I can find you if you wear this."

Emma nods. The woman had saved her life, she supposes that it couldn't hurt to get to know her a little more. And besides, she can't say that she would get another chance to talk to another mermaid, much less a mermaid as compelling and alluring as this one.

Emma watches her lay down, firelight reflects in her beautiful brown eyes. She supposes that she had sought out an adventure. She clears her throat, "I didn't see the Jolly Roger sink. Could you help me find it, I don't think that Killian is dead."

"Killian?"

"My friend."

"Just a friend?"

"Just a friend."

"I can help you search, on one condition."

Emma inhales, "what condition."

"When we find the ship, let me board it. I want to see the human world."

"You have a deal, Mills."

The mermaid smiles. Indeed, Emma wanted an adventure. She has a feeling that she will be getting more than her fill of one.