I woke abruptly in the pre-dawn glow, shivering and rigid with terror. I couldn't recall the dream that woke me, but the plunge into reality was equally frightening. It had been possible to forget the details of my situation last night while enjoying the pleasures of newfound intimacy (and lots of wine). Now, I was alone, lying next to a sleeping stranger to whom I was suddenly, impossibly linked, in a world that was strange and unfamiliar and possibly dangerous.

I tried to choke back the sob that tore through me, but I must have failed, because the bed next to me rocked sharply as Killian leaped from the mattress, landing gracefully and spinning, scanning the room for potential threats. I saw the glint of steel and couldn't help but wonder where he'd been hiding the knife that was now in his hand.

He turned to me, finally, his whole body relaxing as he set aside his weapon and came to sit next to me on the bed.

"Are you all right, love?" he said softly, his eyes intent on mine.

"Yeah, just a nightmare," I said. "What was—"

I cut off as his fingers curled around my upper arms.

"You're freezing," he admonished. "My fault, I'm afraid… I've stolen all the blankets."

He tugged me toward the warm spot where he'd been lying, but I resisted, wrapping my arms around my chest self-consciously. He let go of me at once, frowning as he watched me curl in on myself.

"Can I help?" he said, going for a grin and not quite making it.

"No," I said immediately, and I saw his expression waver.

"Is it me?" he asked quietly after a moment, his voice tenuous.

"No," I breathed at once, hating that I'd made him feel dejected. "It's not you, not… Not really."

He searched my eyes like he was hunting for the truth.

"The marriage?" he asked. "I'll tell Liam to have it annulled—"

"On what grounds?" I asked with a snort.

"Non-consummation," he said immediately.

That surprised me.

"What? With all those witnesses?" I blurted out.

"Well, they can't know for certain, can they?" he said with a sad smile. "I'd rather be embarrassed than wed to a woman who hates me."

"I don't hate you," I said emphatically, purposefully taking his hand in mine.

He was quiet for a moment, frowning as he examined our linked fingers.

"I don't hate you, either, Emma," he said very gently. He looked up at me finally with intense eyes. "Many good marriages have started with less than that."

Slowly, he scooted closer to me, nudging me to face away from him so he could lay us down and pull my backside against his front. He wrapped his arm around me.

"Don't be afraid," he whispered into my hair. "There's two of us now."

Something about his fragile tone made me relax against him. I'd know Killian Jones for less than a week, but somehow, I felt like there'd been a Killian-shaped hole in my life before. I missed Neal, but if I couldn't get back to the real world, would it be so bad? I chewed on my lip for a moment, considering the impossible situation. Killian sensed my stress and began humming lightly, his fingers stroking my arm in a soothing pattern. With a sigh, I relaxed into his arms and fell back to sleep.

.

Some time later, I awoke again, this time to late morning sun streaming in the narrow windows. I yawned and stretched, stopping abruptly when I found Killian sitting at the little table, watching me. He was fully dressed and I was not. Despite the intimacy we'd shared in the safety of the night, I felt suddenly shy and awkward. We exchanged mumbled greetings, neither of us maintaining eye contact for more than a second at a time.

He presented me with a set of clothes that had apparently been left outside the door for me. I dressed awkwardly, doing the self-conscious dance of someone trying to put on clothes when they know someone is watching and it makes them uncomfortable.

Breakfast was almost painful, the silence stretching and contorting into a thick, rubbery cocoon that pressed on us until we gasped and squeaked under its weight.

"Do you want to get out of here?" I said once I was sure my stomach was too fluttery for any more dried meat and day-old bread.

"Gods, yes," Killian breathed almost before I'd finished the question.

We fled the room, grateful to find the stairs leading down from the attic empty of hecklers. We slipped out the back door and across the fields, climbing the hill that separated the farm from the stream, but at a different place than where the Jones brothers typically fished. We both seemed to feel better once we were under the open sky and near the water.

I sank to the grass, lying back in the dappled shade of a sapling tree, and Killian crouched nearby, leaning against a small outcropping of rock. We let out simultaneous sighs, and then looked at each other. The moment grew taut, and then burst when I snorted. He grinned, and then we were both laughing, letting the heavy cloud of uncertainty disperse.

I felt like I could breathe, and I shot Killian a shy smile, glad that he was able to understand my nervousness. He seemed to mirror it.

A much more healthy quiet settled over us, and I laid back, closing my eyes and listening to the water babbling in the stream.

"I hope—" Killian said abruptly, cutting off as suddenly as he began.

I cracked open an eye when he didn't finish his thought, turning to face him again.

"You hope what?" I asked gently, honestly curious.

"It doesn't matter," he mumbled, going pink.

"No, tell me," I said with what I hoped was an encouraging smile. I reached across the grass toward him. "Honesty, remember?"

He gave a tight little nod and then took my hand, squeezing my fingers.

"I was going to say…" he began, meeting my eyes, even as his cheeks went a darker red. "That I hoped your first lover was as generous with you as you've been with me… But that didn't sound quite right…"

"It sounds fine," I soothed.

"What I mean to say," he continued in a rush of words, "is 'thank you.'"

I felt my own cheeks go pink.

"Well," I mumbled, "I guess I should say that, too."

"For what?" he asked, sounding surprised.

"For marrying me," I said, "instead of…"

I made a vague waving gesture with my free hand.

"I told you last night, love—" he began in earnest.

"Yeah, I know," I said, interrupting. "Just… thank you, okay?"

He scrutinized me for a moment before nodding.

"As you say," he murmured, inclining his head.

Quiet fell again, and when it got too thick, Killian tugged on my hand. I obligingly rolled toward him, and he stretched out in the grass next to me.

"I haven't felt this relaxed since the Dark Curse," Killian said with a little sigh.

"Dark Curse?" I asked.

He took a long, slow breath. I turned my head to look at him, and I could see the curiosity in his eyes, the unasked questions.

"You don't know about the curse?" he asked very slowly, watching me with a wary expression, like he thought I was messing with him. "The curse that Regina cast to seek revenge on Snow White—?"

"Snow White?" I choked. I closed my eyes tight, fighting the bubble of hysterical laughter that wanted to escape my lips. Storybook world… It was ridiculous.

"Emma, have you been in some prison these recent years?" he asked in a strained tone.

"Um, no," I said, wanting to keep my promise about honesty. I opened my eyes and looked up into his concerned face. "But, could we pretend I was, for the sake of expediency? Just assume I have no idea what you're talking about. How about that?"

He pursed his lips for a moment.

"All right," he said tentatively. He sat up, staying close to me. His eyes searched mine for another moment before he continued. "Queen Regina cast the Dark Curse to seek revenge on her step-daughter, Snow White."

I did my best to keep my expression neutral as I listened to him.

"Revenge for what?" I asked.

"That, I don't know," he said with a little shrug.

"Okay, so she cursed Snow White—" I started.

"Not only Snow White," he clarified.

I waited for him to continue, but he seemed to be waiting for me, too. His eyes bored into mine, searching for answers I couldn't give him.

"So, she did some cursing," I prompted.

"Aye," he said with a hint of a smirk. "But the curse didn't do what was expected. From what everyone knew, it would transport residents of the Enchanted Forest-"

"Enchanted Forest?" I interrupted.

He said nothing for a moment, measuring me with his eyes.

"This realm, love," he said levelly. "This realm is called 'The Enchanted Forest'."

My stomach did a little flip. It seemed he was truthfully not going to press me, and I was grateful.

"This... kingdom?" I asked, looking down for a moment before meeting his gaze again. I was admitting my ignorance and trusting him to help me hide it.

"All the kingdoms on this continent," he said in a slightly choked voice, like I'd imagine I might say say something to someone I'd just realized was from another planet.

And maybe I was.

"Transport them where?" I asked softly. The air between us was tense and thick. This conversation was loaded, full of secrets and half-formed trust. He was offering me a lot. I knew I'd have to find a way to pay him back.

"Transport us—" he paused "—to a world without magic," he said, finishing his original statement.

I frowned at that. Magic? Without magic?

"You're saying that there is magic in this world?" I asked dubiously. "Like, you mean this Regina woman cast a magic spell?"

The color drained slowly from his face.

"Aye, lass. There was magic," he whispered, "before the curse."

We were both quiet for a moment. I think we were both shocked.

"Emma…" he said tentatively. He licked his lips. "Where are you from, love?"

I heaved a sigh, feeling torn. He'd offered me his trust, and so far he'd been good to his word. I'd never felt the slightest hint of a lie from him once he'd sworn himself to honesty.

"I think I'm from a different world," I said in a small voice.

"That's impossible," he said gently—not incredulously, more like one might correct a mistaken child. "All travel between worlds was abolished when the curse struck."

"Well, I'm not from around here," I said a little snippily. "You know that. I've seen you looking at me and thinking it."

The corner of his mouth quirked up for a moment, but he said nothing.

"You know I don't belong here," I said. I let out another sigh. "This place is so strange… It's like something from a story—like Wonderland or Neverland or—"

"Neverland," he said, his tone sharp.

"You've heard of it," I said in a rush, happy to finally find something familiar.

"Aye," he said carefully, his entire demeanor shifting. He was on edge.

Why would Neverland make him wary?

"You've read the story of Peter Pan?" I asked, "and the island where time stands still?"

"Read the story?" he echoed, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

"Yeah," I said, "Peter takes the orphan kids and they stay young forever on Neverland; the place where you never grow up."

He stared at me with wide eyes.

"Peter Pan is in a story book in your world?" he asked, still clearly aghast.

"Yeah," I said, finally slowing down enough to be affected by his disgust at the idea.

"Have you been to Neverland?" he asked in an icy voice. His expression closed, becoming suspicious.

"No, of course not," I said at once. "It doesn't exist. It's… It's fiction."

His expression was still guarded. He was scared, I realized.

"Neverland isn't a real place," I said again, but my words were losing conviction, "...is it?"

I searched his face, and he searched mine. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision, and his shoulders relaxed a little.

"It is," he said as if the words were poison.

I felt my skin break out in goose bumps.

"You've been there," I whispered, not quite accusing him.

His eyes flashed, and then his face went neutral. He gave me what could only be described as a look of warning.
Okay, message received, I thought, do not talk about Neverland.

"Okay, fine," I said, raising my hands in surrender. "Back to the curse, then, it was supposed to send everybody to a different world. But it didn't, I take it?"

"It did not," he said, clearly glad I'd changed the subject. "We remained here, and all magic was instantly dispelled."

"How long ago was that?" I asked.

"It was..." he trailed off, frowning. He cocked his head to the side. "It was…"

He looked puzzled by my question.

"How old were you?" I asked.

"I…"

He looked at me again, his face a mask of complete bafflement. He looked down at himself.

"I was…" he murmured, lifting one hand to scratch behind his ear. "I was ever as I am now. I haven't changed… It is like…"

"Like Neverland?" I asked.

He scowled at his lap, dropping his arm and making fists.

"Aye," he said after a long moment.

"So, there is still magic," I said quietly.

Killian frowned. After a moment, he opened his mouth to speak again, but the sound of shouting from the direction of the farm drew our attention. In silent synchronization, we crept to the crest of the hill and peered down at the farm.

A small group of black knights was arguing animatedly with Marian.

I started to get up to go help her, but Killian pulled me back to the grass.

"Wait," he said quietly.

I didn't like the idea of watching instead of doing something, but I did have to figure Killian knew a little bit more about this world's customs than I did. We watched as Marian patiently let the black knights finish making their demands, then she called for Robin. The prince of thieves (ugh) nodded diplomatically as the knights repeated whatever they'd said to Marian, and then he fetched Liam.

The knights were clearly frustrated with having to repeat themselves again, but they spoke to Liam, who replied in low, not-quite-friendly tones. The knights fidgeted and murmured amongst themselves as Liam went back into the house for a minute. When Liam returned, with a cloak and a satchel, the knights gestured for him to go with them, and Liam complied without any complaint.

"Hmm," Killian said.

"Are we just going to sit here and let them take your brother?" I demanded.

"Oh, aye," he said. "Liam's going willingly. See, he chose his brown cloak? If he'd put on the grey one, we'd know he wished for assistance. In brown, he intends to go have words."

I blinked at that.

"Oh, well, that's actually pretty smart," I admitted.

"Aye?" he said, grinning at me sideways. "It was my idea."

"Yeah?" I said, turning toward him.

"I have all sorts of ideas," he murmured, letting his eyes trail down my body and then back up to my face.

"Yeah?" I repeated, taking my turn to look him over. He was wearing grey trousers and a blue shirt that hung loose to reveal a long strip of his chest hair.

"Aye," he said again, his lips curling upward. He stalked toward me, moving with slow deliberation. I could tell he was waiting for my rebuff—expecting my rejection—but I held my ground.

.

An hour later, we got our clothes back in order and went to the house to see what had happened. Robin was outside, fletching some arrows when we came over the hill. He hailed us and beckoned us over.

"How goes the honeymoon?" he asked with an easy smile as we got into conversation range.

"It has been most instructive," Killian said at once, making me chuff.

"That sounds about right," Robin replied before turning to me and dipping his head in greeting. "Emma."

"Robin," I replied as civilly as I could, doing my best to manage a curtsey.

"I hope you'll forgive my men for their behavior last night," Robin said. "It has been a while since we've had the privilege of hosting a wedding."

I bowed my head, mostly to hide my surprise at the apology. But I guess the stories had gotten Robin Hood's sense of honor right.

"As long as they can keep their mouths shut from here on out, I think we'll be okay," I said.

Robin let out a short chuckle.

"Some of them may require persuasion," he said merrily.

"I'm okay with that," I said, wrapping the fingers of my left hand around my clenched right fist.

Both men looked at me with surprise and then exchanged a look. I wasn't fluent in men's nonverbal communication, but it looked like Robin was giving Killian the "lucky bastard" nod, and that made me feel kinda awesome.

"So," Killian said, changing the subject. "Where have they taken Liam?"

"You saw that, then?" Robin asked, nodding to himself.

"Aye," Killian said.

"Liam's off to see the Dark One," Robin said, "in regards to… Mrs. Jones."

He inclined his head toward me again, and I felt my spine stiffen at the name.

"I thought we had a week before he intended to collect her?" Killian asked in an annoyed tone.

"It seems Rumpelstiltskin changed his mind," Robin said.

"How fortuitous that we acted with haste," Killian said, sounding as though he didn't think it was fortuitous at all. He stepped closer to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. He seemed to do it almost unconsciously.

"Aye," Robin replied. "I can't imagine he'll be pleased."

"I can't say I care about his pleasure," Killian quipped back. He gave my shoulders a squeeze and started leading me toward the farmhouse.

Inside, Marian greeted me warmly. There was no sign of the merry men. We ate a late lunch with Marian and Roland. I was surprised at the normalcy of it. I didn't feel nearly as awkward as I'd expected to.

After the meal, Roland dragged Killian away. The blue eyed man grinned and winked at me before disappearing into another part of the house, leaving me alone with Marian.

"He's a good man," she said softly. "Roland adores him."

"Hmm," I said noncommitally, my eyes fixed on the wood-grain of the table.

"You seem well-suited to one another," Marian said.

I turned back to face her, raising an eyebrow.

"You don't even know me," I said.

Marian smiled.

Robin came inside then, kissing his wife and nodding to me.

"Liam's riding in," he said.

"I'll get Killian," Marian said, standing up and striding off after her son and my… my husband…

It still felt strange to think. I squirmed a little in my seat.

"He's a good man," Robin said quietly, echoing what his wife had said.

I guessed he thought I was uncomfortable because I didn't know Killian well. It was a reasonable conclusion to draw, but it didn't quite cover my situation.

After imparting his sage observation, Robin went back outside to meet my new brother-in-law. I followed, unsure what else to do. Killian, Marian, and Roland came out on my heels, and I didn't even flinch when Killian stepped right next to me and put his arm around my waist. It felt good. Confusing, but good.

Other farm residents had clearly seen Liam's approach, because merry men poured out of the woodworks. A boy only a little older than Roland led Liam's horse off to do whatever people did to horses before putting them away. Stabling them. Whatever.

Liam stretched briefly before turning toward the house and the throng of us standing around in front of it. His eyes found mine, and he frowned. It was a stern, almost angry expression.

I guess he'd gotten bad news.

Robin greeted Liam, and the two man fell into step, talking in hushed voices with their heads close together. At one point, Robin's head snapped up and his wide eyes landed on me, his expression turning speculative and then guarded before he looked away.

"What's the news, brother?" Killian asked when Liam was in earshot, taking a few steps forward, dragging me along next to him.

Liam turned his frown on Killian briefly before flicking his eyes to me again and all but scowling.

"That good?" Killian said, his eyebrows rising.

"I need to talk to you," Liam growled, and I honestly wasn't sure which of us he meant, since his eyes kept flicking back and forth.

So, we both ended up in his study, with Robin bringing up the rear, mollifying the rabble that vocalized their upset and being excluded from the conclave. Killian gently steered me to a small sofa, and we sat down together, his arm still around me. His other hand landed in my lap, his fingers threading with mine. It was comforting, and that felt strange.

Once the door was properly shut, Liam turned on me, all civility gone from his expression as he strode toward the sofa and leaned in, looming imposingly into my personal space.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" he demanded.

Killian opened his mouth to scold his brother for his behavior, but I'd dealt with a lot worse on the streets both as a teen and as a bail bondsperson, so my response was instinctive and immediate.

I stood up, breaking contact with Killian and stepped into Liam's space, forcing him to step back. He was taller than me, but that had never been an issue for me. I knew how to handle myself.

"I'm the person who is about to break your face if you don't back up," I said, adjusting my posture to an open, powerful, dominant position.

Liam blinked at me in surprise.

"Now, if you want to have a conversation like grown-ups," I said, "sit your ass down, and we can talk. But don't think for one second that your tough guy bullshit is going to intimidate me."

Liam stared at me in dumb shock for a moment, and then Robin let out a choked bark of laughter.

"I believe you've upset my wife," Killian said from behind me in an amused tone. "Best apologize, or she might bite. I'd recommend avoiding that."

I ignored Killian for the moment, keeping my gaze level and fixed on Liam. After another tense moment, he drew a ragged breath and took another step back, settling into the chair I'd backed him towards. Robin came to join us in the seating area, and I returned to sit by Killian with a toss of my hair. He squeezed my shoulder and dropped a little kiss onto the top of my head.

"I apologize for my lapse in manners," Liam said as if chewing glass.

I gave him a curt nod.

"Perhaps you could enlighten us as to the happenings of your meeting with the Dark One?" Killian prompted, clearly fighting a grin.

Liam frowned again, but he complied.

"Rumpelstiltskin wasn't happy with our answer to his threats," Liam began. "When I showed him the signed marriage contract, he flew into a rage. Half of what he said made no sense at all, but what I was able to decypher was violent at best. He seems quite determined to have Emma in his custody, regardless of the cost to him or Regina. When he finally calmed down, he declared that you—" Liam finally looked at me again "—are a wanted criminal who has committed some great crime and harboring you from 'justice' is grounds for a full-scale invasion."

I was proud of myself for not letting my jaw drop.

"That's ridiculous," I spat.

"He's lying," Killian said.

"I know he's lying," Liam said, "or he wouldn't have changed his story. He could have claimed her a criminal the first time, but he didn't."

"Tell them the other thing," Robin said softly, and Liam frowned again.

"It might be nothing," Liam muttered.

"What, Liam?" Killian prompted.

"While he was ranting, the Dark One named her again, 'Emma Swan,' the name seems… important to him. 'I will have Emma Swan,' he said to me, 'the harbinger will be mine'."

"The harbinger?" I asked. "What does that mean?"

"I'd hoped you could explain that to us," Liam said, clearly unhappy that I couldn't.

"I've never heard it before?" I said. "What the hell is a harbinger?"

"It's similar to a herald," Killian said, his voice thoughtful, "a harbinger is a sign of something soon to come. Snowdrops are said to be the harbinger of spring. The cock's crow is the harbinger of dawn..."

"So Rumpelstiltskin thinks I'm a sign?" I asked.

"Aye," Killian said, nodding.

"A sign of what?" I asked.

Three sets of blue eyes looked at me with appraising expressions.

"That seems to be the question."