CHAPTER 3: SEARCHING HIGH AND LOW

THREE YEARS EARLIER.

Killian came home one morning after a night shift to find the contents of his wooden chest, kept at the foot of his and Emma's bed, scattered across the hardwood floor of his bedroom. Emma stepped out of the bathroom with a whimsical look on her face as she pased by her husband, a towel wrapped around her wet hair.

"Swan, what in blazes…?"

"Shh… there is a certain pirate kid who is convinced her pirate dad won't find her and the treasure she holds." She whispered, as her eyes pointed towards the chest. She bit her lip with an amused giggle, and went past Killian to look through her drawers for clothes and makeup.

"Ohhh…" Killian smiled and nodded. "So it seems, there is another pirate in the room then, eh?" A little giggle sounded from the chest and he had a hard time not bursting into outright laughter. "Very well, then. I shall track down this scoundrel, find her, take the treasure from her hand and have her walk the plank! I wonder where she be?" He paced noisily around. "Where, oh where, oh where…"

Emma frowned as she rummaged through the contents of her boudoir. "What the hell…?" She looked at Killian. "Hook, did you take my eyeliner?"

"Shh." He turned to his wife, playfully. "I am on a quest, Swan, can't you see that?" At the same time he mimicked a shrug and a silent "no" at her, before resuming his game. "Wheeeeere is this rapscallion? Wheeeeere is this thieving lil' git?"

Emma looked in her purse, her jacket pocket, under the pillow, the bedside table drawer, and even went through the jacket pockets of Killian's leather coats hung in the closet. "This is just… "

"Aha!" He flipped the chest open. "There is the scoundrel I've been see…."

When the child raised her little toothless girn to her dad with insane laughter cackles, Killian exploded into uncontrollable laughter. "SWAN! I found your eyeliner buried with the treasure!"

When Emma joined Killian, she gasped. "Oh, my God! Lizzie!"

The child had taken to painting her face: A twirly moustache, an eye patch and a beard. "I'm a pirate!"

It was hard for Emma to even stand and she could swear she may have even peed a little. "I gotta take a picture of this!" She ran to her phone and turned to her daughter. "Smile there, you little bad egg!"

The child smiled fully, displaying an adorable toothless grin. Her front teeth had fallen early, only a few days before. "Killian, stand next to your daughter, please!" Emma smiled. Lizzie held up a drawing as her dad placed an arm around her and Emma shot the picture. "This is solid gold, I swear to god!" She placed the phone down and looked at her daughter. "We need to wash that off, kid, or you'll be looking like GusGus after a hard day's work for the rest of the week."

"But my daddy was gonna make me walk the plank!"

"And to that I hold, you scoundrel, but not before I retrieve the treaure form you. Just what are you holding there, Captain Lizzie?"

The girl handed the drawing to her dad, and Killian smiled fully. His heart melted: It was a crayon drawing: Henry, Emma, herself and her dad… and he held a little crocodile by the tail.

"Oh darling…" He crouched in front of her. "Is this for me?"

"Yes daddy." She pointed at the crocodile. "Henry told me you were always hunting for a crocodile and that you never caught it, so … " she tapped her little finger on the hastily scribbled alligator. "Here you caught him by the tail."

That brought another bout of laughter from both her parents, and Killian squeezed her with a kiss that stained his own face with black eyeliner. "Well, thank you, little one. This is indeed the greatest treasure. Look, Swan, I finally caught myself a corocodile, it seems. Best that it happened this way. And you…" He suddenly picked her up and the child squealed as he spun her in circles. "You don't escape the plank!" he threw the child on the bed and she landed with a bounce, laughing her little head off.

"Killian! I just changed those sheets!" Emma grimaced. Indeed, the pale blue linen now sported large black smeers. Killian narrowed his eyes and smiled mischievously, as he collected his daughter from the little heap of laughetr she had curled herself into.

"Aw Emma. Maybe you just need to pirate yourself up a bit yourself. " He turned to Lizzie. "Go on love, kiss your mommy's face till she's as dirty as any pirate ought to be."

"No no nooo…" Emma laughed as the girl jumped into her arms and intentionally rubbed her dirty face into her mom's. She turned to Killian, looking pretty much like a chimney sweep. "She gets this from you, Hook."

"Proudly. Now, get that talking phone of yours, Swan, and let's get a proper picture of what a real pirate family should be!" After Emma took the picture, Killian turned to her daughter and sighed with contentment. "Seems you'd make a hell of a pirate… So I think its time you become one." He removed his charms from his neck, the skull and blade he wore as an amulet, and placed them around her daughter's neck. "These have kept me adrift through many a storm. Your mother holds my lucky ring, and now you hold my safety charms. Wear them well, Lizzie girl." He kissed her forehead. "You are my adoration, little one."

The girl gasped and threw her arms around her father's neck. "I love you too daddy!"

Emma happily printed the photograph later that same day, and placed it in a picture frame. The selfie showed three smiling, dirty faces. No one in town had ever been happier than the Jones family at that moment.

Emma never again saw her eyeliner.

xxxxxxxxx

THREE DAYS AFTER THE FUNERAL

Emma hand't wanted to open the door to Lizzie's room for the last three weeks. But this time she finally found the pluck to do so, with a large box in her hand. She was a creature of habit, and habits of the sort she had developed as a child always moving from one place to another, died hard. She had to move on. She had to let go, move on and get on with her life.

Only this time it was harder, much, much harder than ever before.

Just by opening the door, she caught the smell of her daughter: soft and soothing, hard to describe, and just… her. The curtains were still drawn, her bed unmade, her books scattered on the floor and her schoolbag on a chair in the corner. Drawings and posters pinned to the wall and her little red jacket flopped over the wooden foot of her bed.

Emma had a hard time staying on her feet.

She paced in abruptly and threw the curtains open, opening the window to allow the intoxicating sweet smell of her daughter to evaporate. Perhaps, she figured, the quicker she managed to pack everything out of sight, the easier it would be to get on with life.

Hastily, and trying hard not to let the tears take over, she opened the closet and haphazardly began throwing clothes into the box. "She's gone, she's not coming back, she's gone…" She kept repeating to herself as each garment fell into the void of the cardboard container.

She did the same with toys, books and other things, and was about to pull the sheets from the bed when the picture she had taken of her aged only four made her stop dead in her tracks. She dropped the box and simply paced quietly towards the desk: Three faces, all covered in black eyeliner smeers… one of the happiest days of her life.

She collapsed on the floor then, heaving, crying and caressing the photograph with her fingertips. "She's gone… she's not coming back…"

Once, her father had told her she needed to learn how to grieve. The truth was, she had no idea how the hell that was done. She had always had to stand up for herself and any losses she had ever experienced always had to take a backburner to survival. But here, she was not in danger. She was at home, with nowhere to be, nowhere to run to and no need to escape. This was finally a loss she had to face head on.

When Henry had fallen into the curse and she thought he was dead, the grief had been overwhelming but momentaneous, because she kissed him awake and the curse was broken. With Neal's passing, she had to focus on keeping Henry safe from the wicked witch. When Killian had died and gone to the underworld, she concentrated all her energy in getting him back and then, after she failed, her pain was clouded by Robin's sudden passing, andly to have Zeus give her love back to her, unscathed. But this time… this time was different. No body was ever retrieved. Her magic had been unable to locate her in this or any realm.

Her daughter was dead.

"No… NO NO!" She screamed and pressed the framed little image to her chest, as she rocked back and forth, the reality hitting her hard, like a locomotive to the heart. "My baby! My little girl… no…. Lizzie…. Why? WHY?"

Killian was there in a flash. The image of his beautiful wife, all crumpled on the floor amidst partially packed boxes, a mess of tears and agony, broke his own heart. He paced to her and gently kneeled beside her from her back, holding her to him. "Shhh… it's ok, my love… We will be ok…."

He darted his eyes around the room as he tried to soothe the wretching sobs. He knew why she had tried to pack her things away; but he also knew it was an excercise in futility. This was their daughter, not just another old lover to be cast into oblivion. She knew it too.

After a few minutes she finally turned to him and held him back. "Oh, Killian…" she only sobbed softly now. "She's gone… she's not coming back, she's not coming back…"

"I know, Emma. Shh… " he caressed her hair and kissed her temple. "It's ok to cry, my love. For both of us. It's ok. You don't have to start packing her things right away, Swan. I will help you to do so when the time comes."

"It hurts so much…."

"Aye, that it does." His voice broke as his gaze captured the picture frame now on the floor. "It does. More than anything."

"I can't say goodbye. I can't believe she's gone. I can't…"

"It will come, love. It's fine." He held her away, both hand and hook on either side of her face. "I am here, Emma. I am sorry if I have failed you in any way. I will not fail you now." His eyes shone.

"I just miss her. I miss her so so much."

He closed his eyes and nodded, suddenly lookng away with a pout. "Aye. I do too." He took a deep breath and pulled Emma up. "Come on, Emma. Let's leave this room for now. We will come back in here when we are ready."

She nodded and paced out of the room, wiping her tears as she left with Killian in tow.

He held on to the photograph.

Later than night, he left his bed, and carried the photograph down to the livingroom with him. The smell of flowers that had arrived in the last few days from sympathetic townsfolk didn't help to alliveate his headache. He sat on the couch and simply stared at her face, so perfect, so adorable… so gone.

"Forgive me, little one." He whispered. "I was captaining that vessel and… I could not save you. I could not hold on. I failed you. I failed you both." Suddenly the back support of the picture frame fell and a folded piece of paper fell from behind the picture. "what the…" Killian leaned over and picked up the scrap, unfolding it. He gasped, and the tears he had succesfully managed to hold back, now fell ion cascades.

"Henry told me you were always hunting for a crocodile and that you never caught it, so … Here you caught him by the tail."

Her little voice was an echo in his broken heart.

"Bloody hell… why? Why?" He dropped it all and held his head between hand and stump. "Oh, my little baby girl, why you? Why not me? Why?" He cried hard.

The soft kiss on the crown of his head startled him, but he did not look up. Emma circled the couch and sat beside her ailing husband, pulling him to her chest as he completely fell apart, much like she had earlier that day.

He was also not too familiar with grieving. And now, they had each other to make it trhough what was probably the most difficult moment in their lives.

"You have NEVER failed me." She spoke into his hair. "And you didn't fail her. Neither of us did, Killian. It just happened. It was too powerful and she was a little girl." She rubbed her hand along his arm. "Shh…."

He simmered down and simply leaned into her chest, eyes red. "Emma…. Please, don't ever leave me. Not you too. I beg of you."

She smiled sadly. "I won't. We made vows. For all eternity. And I intend tospend at least that long with you."

"I love you so much Swan…"

"I love you too."

They never made it back to their bed; fatigue got the best of both of them, and they were only woken in the morning by the rustle of Henry's keys. He had come to try and talk them into having breakfast with Snow and David.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

TWO DAYS AFTER THE STORM

Having survived a shipwreck and a portal, Lizzie looked as haggard and dirty as any other of the village children she could see. Her parents had told her about their many adventures and she had been an avid fan of Henry's stories, but she never imagined she'd be having an adventure of her own in any of these far away lands. It was like stepping back in time.

"Come now, child, this is the way…" Midge gave her a little shove. "The see'er is just down that dirt road."

Having promised to mremain silent, Lizzie only nodded.

They reached an old, ghastly looking hut. Lizzie was horrified at the sight to two shrunken heads hanging by the rusted hinges of a moth riddled wooden door.

"Now, the see'er always, always demands a price, love." Myra nodded. "We might now have any gold on us, but we will see what we can muster up to pay 'er."

Lizzy felt a pang of dread in the pit of her stomach, but followed the old maids into the hut.

"Hello? We seek the see'er!" Midge called.

Silence.

Myra sighed and spoke. "We need the wisdom of the see'er to help a child find the way back home. Can she please honor us with 'er presence?"

Lizzie was quiet, but in her mind, she pleaded. "Please, please help me…"

A ghust of wind cruised through the nooks in the stone walls and all candles were suddenly lit. The door behind them flew open and shut and a figure emerged from the dust, becoming a haggard old woman with her eyes sown up.

Lizzie had seen this woman in Henry's book, but she had thought that she had died the moment she had passed all her power of vision to Rumplestiltskin. Yet, here she was, in the flesh, and every bit as hideous as the illustration. She reached out and an eye opened in the palm of her hand. "I know you… I know you and your lineage, Emma Elizabeth Jones…."

Lizzie gulped and the two women sighed with relief. Midge spoke. "Aye, we found her by the shore. 'Er boat capsized and she …"

"Only the child will speak, cockle-gatherers." She raised her face in the general direction of the women. "I bid you to wait outside."

"That we will not!" Myra defended. "We are caring for 'er, this is a dangerous island!"

"I promise you, no harm will come to the child. As soon as she has her answers, she will meet you again." With an effortless tilt of her head, the women flew out the door and it slammed shut behind her with a gush of wind. The candles flickered.

Lizzie gulped as the see'er again turned to her. "Come, little one. Sit there, by the table. I know all. I see all… and I will exact my price now for the aid I will provide."

"B… but I have no money. No gold. I was castaway." Lizzie replied as she sat on a wobbly wooden chair.

"Tis not fortunes I value; it's sentiment. I collect tokens of love. Say, that necklace around your neck. The charms that belong to your father…. I will have those. "

"But…" Lizzie wrapped her hand around the charms. "He gave me these… for protection."

"Aye, my darling child, and that they have done, served their purpse well. For those charms are more than just for protection. They are keys. They are what led you to this island. Now… hand them over… and through me you shall see your parents and your fate."

Lizzie pressed her lips together and sighed as she removed the necklace from her neck. The see'er took them and sniffed them. "Aye… I smell the bones of Killian Jones, Captain Hook. I smell his true love for your mother… and for you." She turned her back to the girl and walked to a counter behind her, placing the charms on top as sheproduced what looked like atiny black cauldron, no bigger than a soccer ball. She placed it before Lizzie and crunched some kind of dry root into it before sitting down, her hands (and the eyes in them) open before the cauldron. "Yes. I see what transpired. Your vessel met a storm of unnatural power… and a portal. One never before seen by your parents. You fell through. They did not. " She swallowed and began to sniff in a pungent black smoke that began to rise from the couldron. "Aye… they weep for you. They are trying to find you through every means of magic your mother posseses. But find you they will not. Not while you are here…There is one here, one in this island, who seeks to exact a price from your father." The smell was becoming unbearable. "Emma Elizabeth Jones, you are not here by chance. You were brought here. And it was a stroke of luck that the cockle- gatherers found you first, for he would have taken you and used you to exact his price…"

"Wait, wait… what price? Who wants to hurt my dad?"

"Eight years ago, before your parents wed, a trade was made to enable your father to go home. But he swindled the man for a bean. A chase ensued. The man is angered. He wants to claim his price." She shook her head. "He has resorted to the darkest of magic to create a storm that woudl take you, hsi most beloved treasure, as payment for the mishap."

"The Jolly Roger?" Lizzie shook her head. "My mom told me that story. She said that my dad traded his ship again to get home, but that the portals failed and that he was sent away to Neverland." Lizzie swallowed. "Blackbeard."

"It is he who wants revenge."

"My mother will find me. They will come for me." Lizzie nodded.

The see'er exhaled. "That, I'm afraid, is impossible, child." Sheopened her hands before the cauldron. "Shoreman's Cove is a pirate island. Here they all come to hide stolen treasure and ransom claims. Here they all hide when authorities close in. This island, it is cloaked by a powerful spell, cast by a dark wizard long gone. Only way to enter and leave, is through the use of the amulets that you paid as prize."

Lizzie gasped. "And… you took them from me? How could you do that!? They're my only ticket out of here!"

"Before the full moon, in a fortnight's time, your parents will have stopped the search. They will naturally assume the waters have claimed your soul."

"No!"

"And they will weep for you bitterly and move on, while you remain a slave to Blackbeard, cleaning his decks and serving his meals, until you are old enough."

Lizzie frowned. "Old enough for… what?"

"To become his. So he can claim the child of his enemy… and make her bear his offspring."

"EW NO!" Lizzie stood up shouting. "You said you were going to help me! How is this any help?"

The table began to rattle and the see'er looked startled. "You… you bear the light of the white wizard. You are true love incarnate, like your mother. It is a good thing. Now settle your anger child, or you will bring the roof down over our heads."

Lizzie frowned and sat back down. The rattling stopped.

"D… did I do that?"

"Emma Elizabeth Jones, you posess very powerful light magic. You will need it." She gasped. "I see divergence. The future is not set. But to save you, one will have to renounce their soul. Only thus will you to return home… and the curse on Shoreman's Cove, will end with the power of light. Many souls will be freed and the Savior and her pirate will be reunited with her child." The smoke from the cauldron puffed into a large cloud of smoke and just as suddenly was sucked back in. "The windows to fate have been closed. My guides are resting. Tis all I can tell you, little one."

"Some help."

"There is no future but what you make it, child." She sighed. "I saw two paths: one where your life is forefit to servitude, and another, where you find your own way home and break the curse on the island for good."

"I gather many pirates will be unahppy."

"But many other souls will finally return home to their loved ones. Souls, much like yours, brought here from infancy to a life as a slave. Many have been imprisioned for over three hundred years." She held her hand up close to Lizzie and the girl shuddered. This was one creepy-looking witch. "I see your heart, Emma Elizabeth Jones: The stout and persistant loyalty of your father and the kindness and purity of your mother's heart song run through your veins. The product of the truest love, twice over. You have the necessary magic in you." She reached back and gave the charms back to her.

"B… but I thought…" Lizzie grimaced.

"Aye. You are pure of heart and your love is strong. Try to find your way home, little one, before the fortnight. Once your parents begin to grieve, your chances of returning home will slowly dim, until all hope is lost and all bonds of love are severed. I have exacted my payment from your love. You are free to leave. But beware: He is on the lookout, and he will stop at nothing to obtain his price. The cockle-gatherers are in danger. As soon as you may be able to, be off on your own." She seemed to suddenly deflate back into the earth and the canles blew out as a whisper of her voice echoed from wall to wall. "Godspeed, child of the savior…."