Emma stood with her knees locked. She would not allow these pirates to see her shaking, looking weak. They would turn on her and pick her dry before her time even started if they thought she was an easy target.

She had made sure not to raise her eyes to those of the captain. After all, someone couldn't commandeer a ship based on brutality alone, he had to have some measure of intelligence, and now that she was stranded on a boat surrounded by men, it was vital that her secret not be discovered.

Based on his garments and hook alone, she had recognize him before he introduced himself. He radiated power. His voice was hypnotic, and she had to catch herself from meeting his gaze as he asked for her name. No, Emmett's name.

She could not be Emma for any duration of this trip, she had to be Emmett if she were to survive and finally escape the Dark One for good.

She trailed Starkey silently, ahead of the four other new men, and followed him to the hull of the ship before descending the stairs into a dark, dripping area beneath the deck. Ahead, she could see a tightly packed area with bunks smaller than even she could fit tightly on.

Starkey's voice shocked her out of her curious reverie, and he soon pointed out bunks for each to call their own. Emma tossed her pack onto the meager area and sat down for a moment, collecting her thoughts.

Made it onto the Jolly Roger. Haven't been found by the Dark One. Might wish I had if Captain Hook discovers my lies.

Starkey led the group back above deck, and began a meandering tour of the ship, naming the main mast, the fore mast, and even trying to explain the seven separate sails that Emma could see men slaving away at. If men so much larger than she had trouble with the work, how in hell's name was she to prove of use before Hook disemboweled her?

Being honest with herself, Emma recognized that she knew nearly nothing about ships, the only knowledge she had of them was from the picture books Granny had kept from Red's childhood.

Starkey shouted out introductions along the way, and as soon as each pirate's name was given, it immediately slipped her mind. There were thirty men, none of whom seemed to want to engage in conversation with the new recruits, and Emma was thankful that she was avoiding attention, a vital aspect of maintaining this new identity.

Starkey suddenly turned and shouted over the sound of the waves and the sharp sounds of the sails, "We're about to set off, you have ten minutes before meeting the Captain and I on deck once again, gather your bearings and assess your own usefulness. "

Emma quickly descended the stairs once again, reaching her bunk and sitting heavily, burying her face in her hands. She was useless on a ship. Much less a carefully maintained pirate ship with a deranged captain who would easily kill her when he discovered that she couldn't contribute.

She immediately bit back a wearied groan as she heard a creak in the doorframe of the crew's lodging area. Nearly filling the doorway were two men, both glaring at her, seemingly trying to fry her insides with the intensity of their apparent hatred.

Emma cleared her throat and muttered, "Everythin' alright?"

The shorter of the men stepped forward and growled, "I'm Rack. This here's Vance. We heard you toppled another man just as he was walkin' up the plank."

"Uh, yea, had to get a place on Captain Hook's ship. Life of a pirate for me."

Vance stepped forward, boxing Emma to the corner of the area. "You see lad, we was expectin' a friend of ours to join the crew today. Seems like you took his place."

Before she knew what was happening, she was suspended, pressed against the wall by a hand wrapped around her throat. Rack leaned in and hissed in her ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down her spine, "One wrong move, one, and we won't leave enough of you to bury."

He suddenly dropped her to the floor, her chest heaving for the oxygen it needed. Rack and Vance stepped over her shaking, prone form. She stayed on the ground until she could hear them climbing the steps and emerging on deck.

Coughing, she stood. Emma Swan did not get bullied into submission. Hell, Emma Swan was usually the one doing the bullying. With a new determination to succeed on the ship, she righted her hat, brushed a bit of the grime off of her back, and walked back up to the deck, joining the four other men who were already assembled facing the captain's quarters.

Immediately after she took her place, the captain appeared and stood before the man farthest from she. She heard him mutter that he had the strength to man any of the seven sails, and the stamina to do it all day and night. The following three men responded similarly, and just as Emma realized that she had to speak, something caught her eye just beyond the edge of the ship's deck.

A lone bird dipped low, nearly skimming the water before it ascended high into air, and Emma had to shield her eyes from the sun as she saw it take a rest on the structure attached to the highest point of the main mast.

With a wide smile, Emma could suddenly remember a single part and function of a ship.

Hook stood before her and demanded, "What is it you can bring to the ship, lad?"

"I can climb, Captain. I have no fear of heights, good eyes, and quick reflexes. I can man the crow's nest."

Hook's boots, the only part of him visible to her now, suddenly stilled. Speaking to himself in a mumble, she could make out the words, "Haven't … a while … too heavy … need it."

She suddenly jumped as she felt his hand clap her on the shoulder, and with a – was it excited? – tone of voice, he said, "We haven't had a man small enough to be stationed there in years. The structure's unsteady and the rope ladder up will need mending, but if you can make it to the nest, consider yourself a member of my crew."

Emma turned to the direction of the main mast and could see tattered rope hanging down from the very top of the mast. Emma had not been lying, she wasn't afraid of heights. But the idea of plummeting to her death on the deck of the ship did not exactly put her at ease either.

If you can climb over fences and up trees to avoid being caught, you can sure as hell climb a ladder.

Steeling her shoulders and making sure not to glance back, Emma grabbed onto the ropes, and placed her foot on the first rung. Just one foot in front of the other. As long as she could distract herself from the task, it was easy to simply admire the ocean's view as she ascended close and closer to the top of the mast.

Nearly at the top, her right foot stepped onto the rope, and it subsequently snapped.

Her life didn't flash before her eyes. In fact, she was never more aware of what was going on in the moment her foot became tangled and she was dangling upside down. One hand immediately went to her hat, keeping it firmly pressed to her head. The guarantee that being discovered as a liar would get her killed was far more certain than the chance of death if she fell to the deck.

Emma was not a person of faith. She didn't believe in destiny or fate, but she figured it couldn't hurt, so from her precarious position, she muttered, "please, please, please, it's only a few more feet."

Her plight went unanswered, and as she began to slowly rotate from her almost humorous hanging position, she could suddenly see the still intact section of the ladder, only feet before her.

Reaching as far as her arm could stretch, she was able to grasp it with the tips of her fingers before pulling it into her hands completely. Relying heavily on her arms, she righted herself before untangling the knot around her foot. Hurrying before some other malady could strike, she scurried to the top of the ladder, and soon found herself sitting at the top of the ship's main mast.

It was where she was meant to be. Every nerve felt alive, the wind wrapping around her skin only heightened her senses, and she could see everything. Delirious with her happiness, she nearly forgot to adapt to her low voice as she shouted down, "Will that be all, Captain?"

A sharp nod was all she received, and from her perch she didn't hear Starkey's amused whisper, "He really likes that hat, don't he?"

She should have known it would happen eventually. She had tried to convince herself that once they docked somewhere, she would abandon the ship and take off, running in the opposite direction.

However, as fate would have it, three weeks into their voyage, it's location known only to the captain, Hook had told his crew they would dock at the nearest port town, Violet Hill.

Three weeks she had maintained her identity. Bandaging around her chest and torso every morning in order to try to eliminate her womanly shape, only splashing water to bathe, and wearing the goddamned hat every hour of every day.

If the rest of the crew found her dirty or strange, it didn't matter. She climbed to the crow's nest every day and dutifully watched the horizons until her eyesight blurred. Rack and Vance couldn't touch her; she was now a vital part of the crew. She had already spotted two of the royal ships, which Hook had deftly avoided, too focused on his mystery goal to even consider the risk of plundering.

On their way to Violet Hill, the storm rose on the horizon.

She could only ever see a vague shape of the captain from her position at the top of the main mast, but as the ship headed towards the storm, she was able to see how he had been made captain when he sounded fairly young.

Weaving in and out of men, he secured the ropes that would steady the topsails and the main sails shouting orders to his men all the way. It was clear from barely a minute of her observation that The Jolly Roger was his, and only his, ship. In ten minutes time the crew was as prepared as they could be to brave the storm.

When the first drops of rain began to pelt the ship, Emma began to worry. She had the advantage of being able to see far beyond what the rest could, and this storm seemed to be darker than most. Its clouds spun unnaturally, and she could swear there was a blue, nearly purple tone to the hurricane's center.

Emma was mesmerized, staring into the storm as it embraced the ship. She was unable to hear Hook's command that all men on deck besides Starkey, who was manning the wheel, needed to get below deck.

The thunder was deafening, and when Emma glanced down to see a nearly empty ship, she swore loudly and began her descent.

The wind tore at her shirt, nearly tearing it off, and each step of the ladder she had scurried down in weeks prior was now an incredible obstacle as the ladder did not remain still whatsoever.

In the final ten feet of her climb down, the wind tore the hat from her head, and she had to let go of the ladder with one hand to grasp it and force it back on her head. Satisfied that she had obtained the hat and her disguise was in order, she hopped down to the deck.

She had barely taken two steps towards the stairs that would lead down to her bunk before she felt the wind pop the buttons from her shirt. She grasped her hands around the lapels and attempted to wrap it around herself once again.

In a span of three seconds, everything changed.

(three)

Her cap once again left her head, and her hair spilled loose from its constraints.

(two)

Starkey shouted at Emmett to duck.

(one)

Emma turned wildly to find her disguise, and registered that the main mast's boom was spinning towards her with the speed of the winds which carried its sail.

"Oh fu-"