Chapter 15

Enchanted Forest, about 2 years before the first curse

"Miss Teach, might I have this dance?"

Anne looked up from her seat along the wall of the ballroom and found herself greeted by soft brown hair and warm green eyes. He leaned slightly toward her and held out his hand.

"Indeed, Mr. Elliott," Anne said demurely, taking the proffered appendage, "you may."

Mr. Elliott was a handsome enough man, she thought listlessly. His features were perfectly pleasant. But he doesn't hold a candle to…him.

Anne ruthlessly shoved those thoughts aside as she pasted what she hoped was a convincing smile on her face. She could not think of Captain Hook tonight. She simply could not. She suspected Mr. Elliott meant to propose during the course of the ball Miss Hornigold had thrown in honor of her nineteenth birthday, and if he did, she was determined to accept. No thoughts of the dashing scoundrel who had stolen her heart some six weeks ago were to be permitted tonight.

As Mr. Elliott guided her expertly through the waltz, holding her close, but not so close as to be improper, Anne's thoughts flitted back to that fateful night in spite of her best intentions.

He hadn't wanted her. He'd rejected her. Even after the tender passionate night they'd shared. Even after she'd shared her body, her heart, her very soul with him. Even after she'd told him she loved him. He'd rejected her, sent her away with a callousness she wouldn't soon forget. No, it was worse than that. He'd tossed her money for her "services" as though she were nothing but a common whore.

The anger had carried her off his ship, back to the woods where she donned her proper clothing, and back to Miss Hornigold's house. But no sooner had she regained her bedroom than the anger had seeped out and the hard, unremitting pain had rushed in.

Over the next few weeks, Anne had cried more tears than she'd ever cried in her life. Some nights she would dream of him—him coming to her, telling her it was all a mistake, that he couldn't live without her. Him offering her his hand, wedding her, setting sail with her, never to be parted. She would awaken from these dreams, and as reality settled in, the pain would cover her, well-nigh unbearable.

Miss Hornigold had worried about her, fretting over her pallor, over her refusal to eat more than a few bites at any meal, over her listlessness and tiredness. More than once she'd suggested a healer be consulted, but Anne always refused. There was no cure for what ailed her, no potion or tonic for a broken heart.

Meanwhile, broken-hearted or not, life went on. Thoroughly cured of her desire for adventure, finally understanding Miss Hornigold's insistence that she guard her heart and behave with decorum around young men, Anne became the model ward. She accepted everything Miss Hornigold sent her way. Talking, laughing, encouraging the young men who came to call, acting the perfect hostess, being calm and collected and demure.

Of all the string of suitors who had come to call, only Mr. Elliott had continued to pursue her, the others eventually becoming put out by her sadness, her woodenness. Anne suspected Mr. Elliott's motives for continuing his courtship of her had more to do with the money she stood to inherit than with any tender feelings for her, but it didn't matter. He would provide her with a comfortable home. He would be kind to her.

And so when Miss Hornigold had informed her she was throwing this ball for her, Anne had dressed carefully in a beautiful blue gown that perfectly matched her eyes. She'd curled and pinned and styled her hair in a way that framed her face most becomingly. Tonight, she meant to become engaged, and she wished to look her best for the occasion.

"Forgive me, Miss Teach, but are you feeling quite well?" Mr. Elliott asked in concern. "You're flushed."

No, I'm not quite well. I'll never be quite well again.

"I'm most grateful for your concern," Anne said calmly, "but there is naught the matter with me. I'm a bit overheated in this crowded room; that is all."

"Perhaps we should retire to the balcony," he suggested. "The cool, night air will revive you."

"Aye," Anne said slowly, "perhaps a bit of air would be welcome."

Now that he mentioned it, she did feel strange—somehow flushed and cold all at once, lightheaded. Her head swam with dizziness, and she clutched Mr. Elliott's arm so tightly he would likely have a bruise.

"Miss Hornigold!" he said in genuine alarm.

"I…" she hardly knew what she meant to say, but it hardly mattered. The darkness pulled her under before another word could be uttered.

….

When Anne awoke, she was in the parlor lying on one of Miss Hornigold's elaborate fainting couches. Miss Hornigold, Mr. Elliott, and Miss Hornigold's personal physician looked down on her with concerned expressions.

"Are you in pain, Miss Teach?" the kindly old healer asked solicitously.

"No," she answered woodenly. Not physical pain anyway.

"Would you allow me to conduct a more thorough examination?"

"Indeed she would!" Miss Hornigold said sternly. "Now, Anne, no excuses this time. You are unwell, and I insist you allow the doctor to attend to you."

"And I must add my insistence to your benefactress's," Mr. Elliott said gently.

"Very well," Anne said with a small nod.

The healer ushered Miss Hornigold and Mr. Elliott from the room, then poked, prodded and questioned until Anne nearly went crazy. As the moments went on, the old man became increasingly more and more grave. Had she been mistaken? Was there something seriously the matter with her? Finally, the man's examination came to an end.

He washed his hands, went to the parlor door, and called Miss Hornigold back in. After a moment, he ushered Mr. Elliott in as well.

"I believe you should hear this, sir," he said, a frown of disapproval marring his face.

What could the diagnosis be that required both her benefactress and her suitor to be present to hear?

The healer gave Mr. Elliott a stern glare, and then turned accusing eyes to Anne herself.

"Miss Teach," he said simply. "You are with child."

….

Anne sat primly on the most uncomfortable chair in the parlor early the next morning, anxiety eating at her. Miss Hornigold had summoned her as soon as she'd awoken, and Anne knew she was about to receive her benefactress's full wrath.

Last night after the healer made his startling pronouncement, Anne had chanced a look at Mr. Elliott. He'd thrown her a look of deepest disgust, turned around and walked out. Anne knew without a doubt that she'd just lost any hope she had of wedding the pleasing young man. As for Miss Hornigold, she had gasped and stood stock still, mouth gaping in a most unladylike manner.

Anne couldn't take it in, herself. "Pardon me," she said in a faint voice. "Y…you said I'm what?"

"With child, madam," the doctor said with clear disapproval.

Anne wanted to deny it, wanted to protest. She couldn't be! It was only one night! She'd committed only one indiscretion! She couldn't be with child.

And then the full weight of her situation closed over her. She was unmarried and with child. No man in Miss Hornigold's high society circle would ever want her now. She was ruined!

She went hot and then cold as yet another thought crossed her mind. What would Edward say? She stood quickly, not knowing where she planned to go.

"Ex…excuse me," she said faintly, "I…I…" and then she fled. She veritably ran to her room, shut the door, and fell sobbing onto her bed.

Anne had half expected Miss Hornigold to follow her, barge into her room, demand an explanation, and then kill her slowly, but it hadn't happened. She'd neither seen nor heard the woman throughout the entirety of her agonizing sleepless night. It was only with the dawn that the summons came.

"I would like to ask you a few questions," Miss Hornigold said primly. Too primly. Miss Hornigold never got that frostily prim unless she was furious.

"Very well," Anne said in a tremulous voice.

"Were you assaulted? Did a man force you against your will?"

Anne looked down, studying the paisley pattern of the area rug at her feet. "No, Miss Hornigold."

"Then explain to me," Miss Hornigold said in a seething voice, "how a young woman of good repute, of means, of excellent moral upbringing finds herself unmarried and with child! Did Mr. Elliott take advantage of you?"

Anne couldn't speak over the lump in her throat. After a moment she simply shook her head.

"Explain yourself!" Miss Hornigold shouted. Anne stared at her in shock. Miss Hornigold never shouted.

"It was last month," Anne began in a small voice, "I didn't go to the country to stay with friends after all."

And then the whole sordid tale came out.

"And so," Anne finished, "in the morning he sent me away."

Miss Hornigold's mouth was so tight she must be in pain. "You've ruined yourself, you stupid girl! No one will want you after this! No man will want your bastard child."

"I know."

"I shall send a servant to your room immediately. He will help you pack your things."

Anne looked up. "Why?"

Miss Hornigold scoffed. "Surely you don't think you can stay here after this? I am a respectable woman. I cannot allow a young woman of ill repute to live in my home any longer."

Anne drew in a sharp breath. "But Miss Hornigold! Where shall I go? What shall I do?"

"Perhaps," the older woman said in a voice dripping with scorn, "you should have thought of that before spreading your legs for a handsome stranger. I will provide you with sufficient funds to see you through the next month, but know this. You will be off these premises by nightfall or my name is not Phyllis Hornigold."

….

Six months later

Edward took the in stairs two at a time, hoping, praying this was not yet another dead end. He stopped outside the first door on the left and softly knocked. He heard the shuffling of feet, and then the door was opened. A motherly woman opened the door, and after a moment he recognized her as his first mate, Smythe's wife.

"Is she here, Mrs. Smythe?" he asked intently.

The woman stepped outside and closed the door softly. "Aye," she said gravely, "but you must prepare yourself, Captain. You will find her much altered."

She would be seven-months along now, maybe more, if Hornigold's estimates were correct. No doubt she would be much altered.

Edward nodded, and then opened the door. His eyes scanned the room and finally came to rest on the wan, frail creature lying on the bed. Could that be Anne? Could that be his beautiful, rosy sister? The young woman lying there listlessly was little more than a skeleton. Only the soft rounding of her belly gave evidence she was indeed still encased in flesh and blood.

A deep wracking cough issued from the bed. It went on and on until Anne could barely breathe. Edward rushed to her, raised her to a seated position, and gave her small sips of water until she recovered.

"Edward!" she said weakly, her fever-dulled eyes lighting up at the sight of him. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"Hush, Annie-girl," he said around the lump in his throat. "Do not try to talk, you'll tire yourself."

Mrs. Smythe bustled into the room and began mixing a healing potion.

"My man found her three days ago, Captain," she said. "Out on the street she was. Soaked and chilled to the bone. The physician had a look, and I'm afraid the news is bad. Pneumonia in both lungs."

One small tear leaked out of Anne's closed eye, and Edward gently wiped it away with his thumb.

"What's being done for her?"

Mrs. Smythe gave him a quick, pitying look. It chilled Edward to the marrow of his bones. "We're doing all we can, Captain, but it would be best to prepare yourself."

"Prepare myself for what?" Edward asked, fear nearly closing his throat.

"It's a bad case. The illness is exacerbated by her delicate condition and severe malnourishment. The physician does not believe she will survive the night."

"No!" The single syllable ripped from his throat.

Anne reached out and took his hand.

"Why, Anne?" he asked hoarsely. "Why didn't you send for me? Why didn't you tell me? I would have come from the ends of the earth to help you!"

Anne coughed, and then took a deep breath. "Didn't want you to be ashamed of me. Didn't want you to disown me. Didn't want you to hate me."

"Anne!" Edward said in true distress. "I could never hate you. I could never be ashamed of you! You're my sister, girl; the only family I have left on this earth."

She nodded, and then began shivering. Edward put a cold cloth on her forehead and tucked the blankets more firmly around her. Anne drifted off.

Nearly half a year ago, Edward had received a letter from Hornigold telling him what had happened. When he learned that Miss Hornigold had turned his young, helpless, pregnant sister out on the streets, his rage had been beyond anything he'd experienced. It was only regard for Hornigold that kept him from murdering the perfidious old shrew in cold blood. As it was, he'd yelled at the old woman loudly and profanely enough it was a wonder she had any hearing left. What kind of woman sends a girl out to starve because they committed one sin?

Edward had stormed from Miss Hornigold's house and commenced turning the realm inside out looking for Anne. It was only a few days ago, when Smythe told him of the girl at the inn that he'd had any success at all.

Anne's blue eyes opened and fastened on Edward.

"I'm glad you came. I missed you," she said contentedly.

"I am too, Annie-girl," he said, running calloused fingers through her hair. "Tell me what happened? Tell me who did this to you."

Her breathing was becoming labored, but she told him in short choppy sentences of "Tiger Lily" meeting Captain Hook. She said enough to let Edward know the bloody captain had taken advantage of her trust, her innocence. Rage began to build inside him, but he tamped it down. Anne needed his love now, not his vengeance.

As the story wound down, Anne began to cry, and Edward took her into his arms. "Hush, Anne," he said brokenly. "It's over now. Rest. Let's focus on getting you well, and then we can sort out the rest of it."

But it was not to be. Shortly before midnight that night, Anne passed away, the tiny child inside going as well. Edward grieved silently over the still, cold body, tears slipping down his weathered face. And then the rage returned. Captain Hook would pay for his crimes. Aye, he would pay dearly!

Enchanted Forest, present day

"It looks like it's finally starting to heal," Regina said, winding a bandage around the long wound on Robin's forearm. "For a while I didn't know if it ever would."

Robin laughed, "Neither did I, my lady. Does this mean I can be up and about soon?"

Regina took her time putting away the unused bandage material. "I don't know. I'll talk to the healers for you, but don't get your hopes up. You still get dizzy whenever you try to stand, and it will be some time before your leg will be fit to walk on."

Three weeks had passed since Regina's failed attempt to get Roland back. Three long, boring, uneventful, agonizing weeks. They'd heard nothing from or about Blackbeard since then.

While they all worked to find a solution to the crisis at hand, Regina tried to keep herself occupied by caring for Robin and keeping his spirits up. He was almost embarrassingly grateful to her for her ministrations, and he genuinely seemed to enjoy her company. He still hadn't regained his memory, but otherwise his wounds were healing.

"How about another tale, Regina?" Robin asked, leaning back against his pillow.

She gave him a playful grin. "Oh no, Robin; not this time. It's your turn to tell me a story. I swore I wouldn't tell you any more until you reciprocated, and I'm a woman of my word."

He grimaced playfully. "You're a hard-hearted woman, that's what you are. Insisting a man with a head wound invent a story for you."

She took his hand and laced her fingers with his, in the moment of banter forgetting that this Robin didn't remember the two of them sharing these small intimacies. He looked startled for a moment, but didn't pull away.

"No need to invent one, outlaw," Regina said playfully. "I've no doubt you've got plenty of yarns you can spin about the Merry Men."

Robin laughed. "I remember one time when Marian…"

Slowly his smile faltered and he gently pulled his hand back. Regina saw the raw pain on his face, and she hurt for him.

"You and the healers tell me it's been seven years since I lost my Marian, but it still feels like yesterday."

They had indeed told him the truth about his situation a few days after he'd awoken. The healers had hoped talking about it would jog his memory and aid him in his recovery. Unfortunately, the news seemed to have the opposite effect. Robin's distress at hearing his baby was now a little boy—a little boy who'd been kidnapped—had been so severe, he'd suffered something of a relapse. Infection and fever had set in again, and for a few terrible days, Regina had feared they'd lose him.

"It won't always hurt so badly," she said gently.

"How do you know?" he asked.

"I lost someone I loved too," she said softly.

"How did you deal with his loss?"

"Not well," she said grimacing. This Robin still knew her as Regina the nurse. She was terrified of the day he realized she was actually Regina the Evil Queen. As fresh as his grief seemed to him, there was no telling how violently he would reject her when he found out.

"But you survived," he stated, placing his rough hand on top of hers.

Regina nodded. "I survived." She took a chance and looked into his eyes. "I did, and I even learned, eventually, that I could love again."

He held her gaze, his expression neutral. Did he understand what she was telling him? Was the Robin who had fallen in love with her back in Tuck's cottage still inside of him somewhere?

"I'm glad for you Regina," he said finally, his eyes tender. "I hope the man you love realizes how lucky he is."

Regina smiled sadly. "It's I who was the lucky one."

A knock sounded at the door, and one of the healers appeared.

"There appears to be some sort of commotion below, my lady, and Queen Snow has requested your presence. I would be honored to sit with the gentleman while you attend to it."

Now what?

"Thank you," she said, getting stiffly from her chair. "I appreciate your kindness."

By the time she reached the great hall, she could tell the healer wasn't exaggerating about the commotion. The whole Storybrooke contingent seemed to be gathered around the large table, talking and laughing and gesticulating.

Snow caught her eye and got awkwardly to her feet and rushed to her. "Regina! Look who's here!"

Regina scanned the table again and noticed the two newcomers. Ariel and…was that Prince Erik? How had he gotten here?

"Regina," the perky red-head said, getting to her feet, "how are you?"

Regina shrugged. "Surviving, I guess. When did you get here, and how the hell did you bring your boyfriend?"

Ariel giggled and reached for Erik. He rose and laced his hand with hers. "Well, to be precise, Your Majesty, I'm not her boyfriend. I'm her fiancé!"

There was a cheer and loud congratulations from the Charmings, from Belle, even from the Joneses. Only Rumple maintained a slightly mocking smile.

"I guess congratulations are in order," Regina mumbled. Perhaps it was rude to show so little enthusiasm, but she just couldn't muster it today. Ever since she'd failed to ransom Roland, all the world looked bleak and gray.

Ariel evidently didn't note the lack of warmth in Regina's voice. "Thanks," she said warmly.

Belle wandered over demanding to see the ring. "When's the wedding?"

"Perhaps a better question, dearie is 'Where's the wedding'," Rumple said. "Given that it's to be a mixed species union will it be on land or under sea?"

"And we thought we had difficulties coming from different realms and different centuries, love," Killian quipped.

Emma giggled. She actually giggled. Oh how Regina missed the slightly bitter, walled-up woman Miss Swan used to be!

Erik wrapped his arm around his fiancée's shoulders. "Truthfully, it was that very difficulty that caused the delay in our engagement. I would have asked Ariel to marry me the minute she returned to Storybrooke if I'd had my way."

The mermaid, now on legs, smiled adoringly up at him, and touched his cheek. "And I would have said yes before the question was even out of your mouth!"

"But there was the difficulty of our worlds," Erik continued. "I couldn't live in the sea, and I was hesitant to ask Ariel to give up her family, her whole life."

"And I couldn't talk him out of his nobility!" Ariel said with a laugh.

"How did you work it out?" Belle asked.

Ariel raised her arm, and Regina saw the cuff she'd given her so long ago.

"Thanks to Regina, I can change from a mermaid to a woman at will," she explained. "and I realized that maybe it could work on Erik as well."

"You agreed to become a merman, mate?" Killian asked with a smirk.

"For true love, a man would do nearly anything," Erik answered.

"Quite true," Killian answered with a smile in his wife's direction.

"Anyway," Ariel said taking her seat and going back to her breakfast, "thanks to this cuff Erik was able to swim with me from the Land Without Magic to my father's kingdom here in the Enchanted Forest."

"We've decided to live on land, primarily," Erik explained. "I do have a kingdom to run, after all, but we'll don our tales from time to time in order to visit Ariel's family."

There was a lull in the conversation, and then Ariel sobered. "I'm glad you got my letter. I'm glad you all made it here."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Snow White asked gently. "Why did you deliver the letter secretly rather than making sure it ended up in Regina's hand?"

Guilt crossed Ariel's featured, and she delicately shrugged her shoulders. Erik wrapped his arm round her.

"Everyone was so busy with Emma and Killian's wedding," Ariel said finally. "There was no time, and I didn't want to mar your happy day."

"I appreciate that," Emma murmured, then under her breath "too bad others didn't feel that way about the wedding night."

"Besides," Ariel continued, ignoring Emma, "my mind was kind of occupied. Things weren't going well in my father's kingdom, and I was worried about what might be happening…especially with the attack on the Merry Men. It seemed like far too much of a coincidence."

"What's wrong in Triton's kingdom, dearie?"

Ariel shrugged again. "Things have been quiet again for the last few weeks, but I just don't know. My father said there have been strange creatures about. They're not merpeople—they almost seem like humans, but that's impossible. No human could survive underwater."

Emma and Killian shared a glance. "As it happens, lass," Killian said, "it's far less impossible than you would think."

"What do you mean?"

"A few weeks ago, we discovered it was Blackbeard who attacked the Merry Men and kidnapped young Roland."

"Blackbeard?" Erik asked, tensing. "One of the most vicious pirates in the realm?"

"Aye," Killian said with a nod, "the very one."

"Only he's not one of the most vicious pirates in the realm anymore," Belle said, "but rather one of the most vicious pirates under the sea."

"It seems Regina gave him to Ursula in exchange for info on Snow," Emma said.

"Ursula," Ariel breathed. "My father feared she was behind the multiple thefts he's had to deal with lately."

"But why would Ursula go to the trouble of taking pirates?" Prince Charming asked. "She's the sea witch; couldn't she have gotten whatever trinkets she wanted on her own?"

"Not everything," Rumple said ominously. "If Ursula is sending human pirates to Triton's kingdom to steal for her, I think we need to accept that we're in for a far bigger fight than we realized."

"Why's that?" Emma asked.

"There's only one thing Ursula could want so badly that she would go to the trouble of kidnapping land dwellers," Rumple continued. "The most magical object in all the realms, Triton's trident."

Regina gasped, suddenly seeing the horrifying situation before them. "And if Ursula gets the trident," she said, "there's not a person or a realm on this earth that would be safe from her greed and treachery."

"Precisely," Rumple agreed with a grim nod.

….

Emma's stomach rolled, and she rose quickly from the bed. This was getting old; this was getting really old. She hurried to the garderobe at the end of the hall and promptly lost last night's dinner. Wiping her mouth, she crept silently back to bed.

"Emma?" Killian asked, holding up the covers so she could crawl back underneath, "are you alright love?"

"I don't know," she said with a sigh. "I just can't shake this stomach bug. It's been weeks! I'm starting to wonder if I'm ever again going to wake up without feeling like my stomach is trying to turn itself inside out."

"Aye," Killian said, wrapping his arm around her, "you will, but perhaps it's time we consider the possibility that you aren't suffering from a stomach bug at all."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you think I have scurvy or some other nasty pirate illness."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Killian said laughing. "But think of it, lass. You're quite nauseated, you're tired past the point of exhaustion, you even fainted last week."

Emma groaned. "Don't remind me. I doubt Rumple's ever going to let me live it down."

"Well, if he should become too obnoxious, come to me, lass. I'm more than capable of reinstating our feud."

"You would, too," she said dryly.

"Anything to protect my lady wife's honor," he said. She swatted his arm.

Killian returned to the topic at hand. "I also know you've not bled since we were married."

Emma froze. Was he suggesting what she thought he was suggesting?"

"Yeah," she said slowly, "I am a good two weeks late for my period. I just chalked it up to the stress and craziness of everything going on around here."

Killian turned her so she was lying on her back then rested his hand on her belly. "Perhaps, love, there is another answer; perhaps you're with child."

"But…but" Emma sputtered. "It's not time yet. We've only been married a month. We can't be pregnant!"

Killian kissed her softly. "Can't we? We've hardly been celibate, Swan."

That was true; since Camelot, they'd gone at it every chance they got. "But with Blackbeard and Ursula on the loose…the timing is terrible."

He smiled gently. "Some little ones fail to take considerations of timing into account, I'm afraid. They come when they will."

"Our baby is already being a rebel," Emma said with a smile, "I wouldn't expect anything less of your kid, Killian."

"Looks like you've got a little pirate in you, Swan."

She swatted his arm again, and then laid back against the pillows, thinking it over. A baby! Was she really going to have a baby? She thought back to those days before she learned she was carrying Henry. The nausea, the fatigue, it was all there. She doubted there were any such things as pregnancy tests in this realm, but she doubted she needed one. She knew Killian was right; she was pregnant.

"Are you happy love?" Killian asked hesitantly.

She thought for a moment and then let the smile bloom on her face. "Yeah, I am. It isn't the way I would have planned it, but…a baby! We're going to have a baby!"

Killian hugged her, tears in his eyes. "That we are, my love. That we are. I can hardly take it in. I'm to be a father!"

Emma smiled tenderly, and cupped his cheek. "Our baby is going to be lucky to have you. You'll make a wonderful father."

He smiled and then moved so his face was level with her stomach, bending down, he kissed the skin over which his child rested.

"Hello, little one," he said gently, "I'm your papa."

Notes:

-Well, that was a LONG chapter, but there was a lot to tell!

-The back in time section was just flat out depressing! I feel terrible for Anne (and Edward), and I rather think Edward let Miss Hornigold off too easily with just a severe tongue lashing. So now you understand just why Blackbeard is out for Hook's blood. I can't really blame him for his anger after what happened to his sister, but hopefully he, like Killian himself, will learn that vengeance simply isn't the answer.

-Erik and Ariel come to some interesting compromises, and Emma's pregnant! I thought it would be interesting to pair (and contrast) Anne finding out about her pregnancy with Emma finding out about hers. Let's hope things work out better for Emma than they did for Anne!

-Couldn't resist the whole "you've got a little pirate in you, Swan," line. Ever since he said it in the finale, I've known I wanted to use it in relation to a Captain Swan pregnancy.

-One quick vocabulary note: you might have been able to figure it out from context clues, but a garderobe is a bathroom they had in medieval castles. It was basically an outhouse situated in the corner of a castle.

-Up next: Not quite a year before the first curse, Regina sets out to find Ursula a pirate captain. (Luckily for us, Hook is otherwise engaged at the moment). She comes up with an interesting solution to her problem. In the present, Blackbeard gets word of Erik and Ariel's upcoming wedding and has some suggestions about how Ursula could use that to her advantage. He also "delivers" another letter. Meanwhile, Robin remembers bits and pieces of his old life, and he finds out Regina's true identity. How will he take the news?