Wait until you find out what the price paid for that magic was...

I drove my car carefully through the town, one hand on the wheel and the other on my arm, while cautiously looking around, expecting townspeople to come for me at any moment. The mark on my arm was my courage, a constant reminder that Emma needed my help. I parked my car in front of Mr. Gold's shop. The sign on the door said closed, but he was going to help me whether he liked it or not. I walked in quietly, but the bell on the door announced my arrival. Rumplestiltskin was standing in the canter of his shop, with his back to me.

"I don't know if you can read, dearie, but a sign that says closed usually means closed. As in do not come in."

"Oh, I can read just fine Rumple." I said, summoning my most condescending Queen voice.

He turned around to face me. "Ah, Your Majesty. To what do I owe this," He looked me up and down and sneered, "pleasure?"

"I need your help."

"And why would I help you? What could you possibly have that I want?"

"I'm trying to do something that could benefit us all." When he didn't ask what, I continued. "I need my mother's book."

"How exactly would returning magic to you benefit me?" He didn't wait for me to answer, just continued speaking with a sly smile on his face. "You know, there are rumors swirling around town about you. The townspeople say you can't get it up."

My temper flared. If I had had my powers I would have pinned him to the wall with them and tortured him for his insolence. No one dared disrespect me like this. "Do not," I paused for emphasis, "speak to me in such a way, letch. You may have forgotten, but I am still your queen, and I demand to be treated as such."

"Oh, I haven't forgotten who you were, Queen. But in this world you are only a mayor. And you're barely even that anymore. How long do you think you have until the townspeople push you out?" He had moved closer to me, until he was in my face, trying to intimidate me with his presence. But I would never back down. "You are incredibly foolish if you believe any here are faithful to you, Your Majesty."

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Attacking him wouldn't change anything. "Will you look at something? Something magical." I pursed my lips, waiting for his response. I could see in his face that he was battling with his love of undermining me and his curiosity over what magic I could possibly have.

"Alright dearie, let's have it. What is it?" I began to unbutton my blouse and he took a step back. "What are you doing?"

"Relax." I snapped. "Not even in my worst nightmares." I finished unbuttoning my blouse, pulling my arms free and standing before him in just my cami. "Have you ever seen anything like this?" I asked, displaying the handprint on my arm to him.

He froze for a moment, as if I had shocked him. For a second he was speechless. "Where did you get this?" He demanded. "How did this come about?"

"Why? Do you recognize it?"

"Recognize it? I could never forget it!" He hobbled away, stopping in front of a bookshelf and pulling down an impossibly old looking book. He spent a few moments flipping pages until he found what he was looking for. He put a finger in the middle of the page and began to read. "The Mark is a very rare, old form of magic. It has only ever been recorded between soul mates. The Mark is believed to be the foundation on which the magic of True Love began. This form of magic is permanent, uncontrollable, and irreversible. The effects of being Marked are unknown, and anecdotal evidence of this phenomenon is few and far in-between. It is known, however, that the two parties involved will be forever linked, and are destined to share this magic for as long as they both live." He finished reading and looked up at me. "So there you have it. Who has had the misfortune of being permanently linked with you? That seems like a terrible price to pay for a bit of magic."

"Do you know anything else about this?" I asked him. "Is there any chance that people who are Marked could, I don't know, share dreams?"

He looked at me suspiciously. "Anything is possible. This is the oldest form of magic. You heard me, it came even before True Love. It sounds like it's even more powerful than True Love, but I can't be sure, because no one has been Marked in living memory." I started to put my shirt back on, and he grabbed my arm. "Who Marked you?"

I shook him off, buttoning my shirt, and ignoring his question. "Where is my mother's book?" He waved his hand, and the book appeared in a smoky cloud of purple in his grasp. He pointed it towards me, but snatched it back when I reached for it.

"I propose we make a deal."

I could feel my blood beginning to boil again. "What do you want?"

"Information." He replied, grinning in that slimy way of his.

I knew what he wanted, but I asked anyways. I finished straightening out my shirt, making sure I looked presentable, trying to feel less exposed before him. "What do you wish to know?"

He repeated his question. "Who Marked you?"

I paused for a moment, weighing my options. He maintained that sleazy smile, knowing that he had me cornered. What choice do I have? "Emma. Emma Marked me." The smile froze on his face, and I took the book from his hand, hurrying from the shop as fast as possible. But before I could shut the door I still heard him say under his breath, "Well, well, well."

I pushed the odd bits of wood and stone away from me. Something bad had happened. The wraith had pulled me and Mary Margaret into the portal. And apparently, while I was unconcious I'd had the strangest dream about Regina.

"Emma." Clear as day I heard my name, but something was wrong. That couldn't be possible at all. I sat up straight, looking around. Where had her voice come from. It had to have been her, I knew it. But how? How had I heard her here? And how could it have even been her. Regina had never once called me 'Emma' before. It must have been the aftereffects of the dream. And what a strange dream it had been. I thought back to the ending, when I had been hovering over Regina. I had never in real life seen what Regina's bedroom looked like, but I was sure that it would look exactly like it did in my dream. It had been a clean, stark room, decorated in shades of grey and black, with simple vases and bedside tables. That was definitely Regina's style. But the part that really had me shaken was the way I had been hovering over Regina's sleeping form. I had said her name, and she had woken up. A part of me ached, longed for that dream to be true. If I could reach Regina, I was sure we could all be saved.

I nudged Mary Margaret, who was lying next to me. "Get up." She grumbled at me. "Get up!"

She moaned, groaning and sitting up. "Where are we?"

"I don't know." I anwered truthfully, shaking thoughts of Regina from my mind. I stood up, looking around. We were in a barren castle. It seemed as if it had never been lived in. Sections of the ceiling were on the floor. Portions of the flagstones had been separated by trees that had grown up through them. The walls around us were covered in thick ivy. It seemed as if the land had done its best to reclaim this castle into the landscape. I turned around, looking at everything around us. When I turned full circle I found myself g=face to face with a sword. At the other end of this sword was a female warrior. She wore full armor, which covered all of her body except for her face, revealing a dark complexion, almond eyes, and long dark hair swept back in a braid. The look on her face was the fiercest thing about her, even including the sword in her hand.

"Who are you?" She demanded, not lowering the sword. Over her shoulder I could see Mary Margaret being detained by a young woman with a long knife.

"I'm Emma. Who are you?"

The warrior woman in front of me didn't answer, but the younger girl did. "I am Aurora."

The name struck a memory in me. "Aurora? Like sleeping beauty?" Of course. They're all fairy tale characters. I looked at the woman in front of me. "And you…you're Mulan, aren't you?"

Her sword dropped in shock, and I used that moment to attack, diving headlong into her and knocking the air from her. The sword clattered to the ground as she dropped it in surprise. As Mulan's back hit the ground she continued to roll with the hit, using my own momentum to throw me over her and flat onto my back.

"Emma!" Mary Margaret shouted, and I could see her struggling with Aurora. Mulan was already on her feet above me, pointing her sword at me. She looked at Aurora and Mary Margaret, where Mary Margaret had successfully disarmed Aurora and had her pinned to the ground. "Let her go!" she shouted, and in her moment of distraction I swept my legs, from under her, jumping to my feet. She tried to point her sword at me from the ground, but I stomped on the hand that held it, causing her to scream in pain and drop it.

"You ok Emma?" Mary Margaret asked

I picked up Mulan's sword, pointing it at her. "I'm fine. Now let's try this again. What are you doing here Mulan?"

She sat still and stern for a moment, so I pushed the tip of the sword into what was exposed of her shoulder. Not enough to cut her, but enough for her to hurt. She winced in pain, but did not cry out. "We were here to save the princess, Prince Phillip and I. But he was killed by the wraith you brought here. So it is now the two of us, and we are alone."

"Is there no one else alive?" I asked earnestly.

"There is, but we all remain together in a camp and care for each other."

"Will you take us there? We mean you no harm."

"I find that hard to believe." She said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she held her injured hand.

"I'm sorry, but I had to. Will you please take us there?"

"Fine." She relented easier than I had expected, and I moved the sword away from her, allowing her to get up. "I think my hand is broken." She tried to flex the fingers on her right hand, and they wouldn't budge.

I felt a tiny twinge of guilt. "Let me see," I said, tucking her sword under my arm. She turned towards me, offering me her hand. I went to take it, and she swiftly drew back her fist. That was the last thing I saw before she knocked me out with one solid punch.

When I came to I was tied like a pig on the back of a horse. My hands were bound, my feet were bound, and if I wasn't mistaken I was tied around the middle to the saddle of the horse. I looked up, and saw that Mulan was riding the horse I was on, and Mary Margaret was tied up the same way on a horse behind Aurora. The motion of the horse was unsettling, and I could already feel my face swelling where Mulan had punched me.

"Where are we going?" I asked loudly.

Mulan glanced behind her at me. "Oh good, you're awake. You wanted to come to camp? I'm bringing you to camp." Her sharp tone told me that this wasn't open for discussion, and that she wasn't answering anymore questions. I lifted my bound hands up to my mouth, wiping it and coming away with blood. God damn it. We finished the rest of our ride in silence. It was probably only five more minutes, but on the back of a horse with my body bouncing and my head ringing, it felt like hours. They passed sentry towers and an outer ring of small cottages. Mulan rode to the center of them, where a small building was built. "You will wait here," she said, dismounting her horse and dragging me off it. For a slight woman she was well muscled, throwing me over her shoulder and carrying me into this shack. From the inside I could see that the shack was much more than that. It was actually more like a cavern, a place to keep prisoners. Mulan put me on the ground, not gently, and then went out to retrieve Mary Margaret. She dropped her next to me, removing our bindings and locking us in the makeshift jail. Mary Margaret's eyes were closed, so I shook her.

"Come on, wake up, wake up." I shook her harder.

I heard a rustling behind me, and I leapt to my feet, prepared to fight, when a soothing voice spoke. "Worry not, child, I mean you no harm." A woman, maybe in her late fifties, stepped into the light. Looking at her I felt a thrill of primal fear spike down my spine as she said, "I am Cora." Regina's mother.

Somewhere far away, realm's away, Regina stumbles in her kitchen, bracing herself against the counter. She closes her eyes, unsure of what is happening, when a primal spike of fear runs down her spine, giving her goosebumps and making her palms sweat. And in that moment, with her eyes closed and her body still, she sees an older woman, maybe in her late fifties, step from darkness to light through eye's that aren't her own. And with ears that don't belong to her, she hears, "I am Cora." And then she hears a thought that doesn't belong to her. Regina's mother.

She hears that one word, over and over again in her mind. Mother.

Hopefully you guys enjoy where I'm going with this. I am literally writing this story while listening to the orchestral suite from the show. I am crazy in love with it. But I keep cranking out chapters, and hopefully you all keep reading them. Reviews help and inspire me, so light it up!