Chapter 2: The Sword and The Swan

"Don't drop the sword."

Killian looked up from where he was fiddling with the aforementioned blade, attempting to find a place to attach it to his person.

Emma sighed and snapped her fingers, a sheath appearing out of thin air. She handed it to him. He noticed that it was very detailed, and appeared to be embroidered with...swans?

"You have magic?"

She rolled her eyes. "Obviously." She watched him slide the blade in the sheath. "Here," she said, walking over and taking it from his hands. She produced a belt from thin air and attached the sword to it before placing it around his waist. He tried not to stare at her lips as she leaned in, but couldn't help but notice the scent of her hair where it nearly brushed his chin. It was the same sweetly pungent aroma from when he'd pulled the sword.

"What is that scent?" He didn't mean to let the question slip.

She finished her task and cocked an eyebrow at him. "What?"

He felt his cheeks grow pink under her gaze. "It's what the water tasted like when I drank from the lake. And I could smell it when I pulled the sword free, and...and you smell like it too. It's sweet."

He didn't know what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't her throwing her head back and laughing. He wanted to capture that sound, gentle but boisterous.

"It's cinnamon. I'm surprised you've never heard of it."

"Ah," he said, trying to ignore how hard his heart pounded under her scrutiny.

"Let's be on our way then, Killian."

"How do you know my name?" And why did it sound so much better on her lips?

She rolled her eyes again, and the gesture was no less attractive than if she had batted them. "I know a lot of things. I've been waiting around for you to arrive for ages."

"Wait-you mean to say you've been here with the sword, for how long?"

She sighed and gestured him to walk with her. They kept a steady pace back towards the lake.

"I'm not sure exactly how long I've been here. After a while the days begin to blur together. I was sent to guard the sword until the chosen hero arrived. I'm bound to it. I can't leave it until it's task has been completed."

"So then…"

"It looks like we're stuck with each other." He had no complaints about that arrangement.

They walked in companionable silence for a while, occasionally asking each other mundane questions or making comments about the scenery. When they finally came to the lake, Killian looked around for the swan, but the water was still and silent, and it seemed a little less clear and blue than it had when he first arrived.

"Where's the guardian?"

Emma scoffed and glanced over at him. "I guess I overestimated your intelligence."

At his puzzled expression she punched him lightly in the arm. "I was the swan."

"But if you can turn into a swan, why didn't you greet me as a human when I arrived?"

"It's part of the conditions of my guarding the sword. I was to remain in that form until the blade was pulled and the seal broken. I suppose I should thank you for freeing me. I can't say I enjoyed living off of bugs."

"Eh, they're not so bad if you cook them right."

He rewarded her shocked look with a laugh. "Joking, Swan."

"Swan?"

He felt his face flush again. "I guess it slipped out. Apologies."

"No, I like it. It's like a nickname. I've never had one before."

He couldn't help staring at her and wondering what her life had been like before, for her to end up here, stuck as a swan guarding a rusty old sword.

She sighed again and stopped to look around at their surroundings, hands on her hips. We need a faster way to travel. Unfortunately, I can't conjure horses out of thin air." She glanced at him. "Do you have a map?"

"Aye." He pulled it out of his satchel and handed it to her, watching as she unfolded it delicately, her eyes scanning the weathered parchment, brow furrowed adorably in concentration. He wanted to reach out and smooth it away and had to physically restrain himself from doing so.

"Here, she said, crooking a finger at him for him to join her. He stepped over to stand close to her, trying to ignore the scent of cinnamon wafting from her hair as he tried to pay attention to what she was showing him. Her finger rested on the tiny drawing of the lake. "This is us. We need to go here." She swept her finger across the map, stopping it at the area labeled Misthaven. "The closest village is a few miles, and it's right at the foot of Death Mountain. This is perfect."

"Death Mountain? Sounds like we should be avoiding it."

She grinned. "Death Mountain is where the dwarves mine for fairy dust. They can probably forge you a shield imbued with it. It would be stronger than a normal shield. And they can fix up the sword so it's not quite so...dilapidated."

He glanced down at the blade. "I suppose that would be best."

"And we'll be able to get some decent food and drink. I can't tell you how long it's been since I've tasted something other than bug."

"Yes, you mentioned that."

She punched him in the shoulder and he feigned pain, grinning at her as she rolled her eyes.

"Let's go, hero. The world awaits us."

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The Castle in Misthaven

The King of Misthaven sat on his throne, listening to his subjects' complaints and grievances, part of his daily routine. He glanced at his wife where she sat nearby, and tried not to feel a pang at the empty throne on his other side, where his daughter would have sat, were she present.

Emma had been gone since...since he couldn't even remember. It was as if time had frozen, though he knew that was impossible. The last he had seen of her she had agreed to guard the sacred sword until the chosen one came and pulled it from its resting place.

The Dark One had threatened Misthaven, seeking the treasure kept within its heart, threatening the royal family if they did not give it over to him. The King had sent his most trusted friends and allies to the far reaches of the land, tasked with keeping the kingdom's sacred treasures safe and protecting their individual regions from the Dark One's corruption. Emma had taken on the task of protecting the sword and guiding the hero on his journey until he was able to fulfill his destiny and destroy the Dark One.

It all seemed so long ago, he had almost given up waiting for his daughter's return and the hero's arrival. The Dark One had retreated since then, biding his time no doubt until he sensed weakness in Misthaven. He had been infuriated that day Emma left with the others, striding into the throne room and throwing soldiers against the walls with a wave of his hands, shattering the tall glass windows and screaming and raging that he would kill everyone unless they told him where the treasure was. The King and Queen had kept one of their allies, skilled in magic, Regina, with them for protection. She was able to cast a temporary spell expelling the Dark One from the hall and before he could return, put up a barrier around the kingdom, so that none could enter nor leave.

It would only be taken down when the hero returned. They were effectively trapped in their own home, waiting for their daughter to return, and for the hero to save them.

If only he knew when that would be, or if it was already too late.