Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time or its characters or anything from C.S. Lewis' The Chronicles of Narnia series.
Chapter 14
Emma wanted to tell Jones that he'd been an idiot; that she wanted to kick his ass for scaring the hell out of her just now, and kiss him senseless for saving her life.
Instead, she settled for keeping the horse moving, while he guided them with the compass; heading further south along the river's edge. Emma decided they should rest since she was confident that they had traveled far enough not to be found by any stray wolves.
They came to a halt in a clearing just somewhere within the Shuddering Woods. Dismounting onto the frozen ground with a thud, Emma helped Jones sit so she could dress the wound. She knelt down beside him and pulled out the supplies from her backpack, Jones humming idly above her as Emma set to work.
He was surprisingly alert and relaxed, considering the grave circumstances from before. Only when Jones assured her that the gash on his arm was only a scratch from the werewolf's paw and not a bite, was she able to calm down.
She finished dressing the wound and Jones stood up quickly, heading over toward the horse again.
"We really need to get moving, luv," he mumbled under his breath, pulling his jacket back on.
He didn't wince in the slightest, and Emma guessed that either the pirate was acting macho for her sake, or Dorian's medical salve was the real deal.
Probably a little of both.
Emma sighed and joined him over by the horse, using his shoulder to assist her into the saddle.
"I doubt we'll be seeing those wolves any time soon," she said, sliding back so that Jones could mount the horse. "They're probably a bunch of pupsicles by now."
Emma took a second to find humor in the situation, but Jones just looked back at her, nodding.
"Indeed. The compass is telling us to continue south, and I believe we may be getting close to another ring."
Thank goodness, too, because the weather seemed to be working harder and harder against them as they traveled on. Despite their apparent ability to face any challenge, Emma was more than ready to find that other ring and get back to her son.
And if they didn't find one soon, she might just have a need for a hook herself from losing a hand to frostbite.
Emma had thought the terrain had been desolate and quiet before, but this was starting to get creepy.
They had traveled over two hours, the sun nearly gone over the horizon, and they hadn't heard a single sound or caught any sign of life besides a mountain in the distance. The wind continued its onslaught of torture, the cold penetrating both of Emma's layers.
Jones seemed uncomfortable too, his body shivering against her chest, as Emma leaned into him. She twiddled the cold, brass clasps of his jacket between her fingers, maintaining her balance as they headed out of the forest.
She frowned and looked around in confusion.
"Are you sure I shouldn't hold the compass? We passed the forest, and haven't seen any signs of another ring."
Emma felt him huff beneath her, as the horse slowed down to a trotting pace.
"The compass led us in that direction, so I assumed it would be somewhere in the Shuttering Woods."
He pulled the map out of his pocket and pointed just south of their location. "We can camp at the base of that mountain and start fresh in the morning."
Letting out an exasperated sigh, Emma felt the frustration subside a bit, and did her best not to complain any further.
Jones looked around at her then, his face serious.
"We will find another ring, luv."
Something in his features gave Emma pause. It was the mixture of determination and something else that she couldn't place; was it guilt?
Jones had done so much for them already, but she couldn't help but get the sense that he felt obligated to better their situation. After everything that has happened, despite her fighting him a majority of the way, he had kept his word, and ensured their safety.
Still, Jones seemed so laden, like he had something to prove to her and perhaps even to himself.
Wrapping her arms tighter around his middle to stay warm, Emma hoped he could feel the reassurance and gratitude that she couldn't put into words.
They had finally reached the mountain, a high rock formation sprinkled with frosty pine trees. Emma noticed that it didn't stretch across the scope of land, but protruded out of the ground alone, as if some kind of mirage.
The river they had traveled along since leaving the lake appeared to flow all the way to the base of the mountain, chunks of ice floating along in the frigid water.
Emma glanced up to see that Jones was staring at his chest in amazement, as she felt the familiar warmth of the compass next to where her hands rested on his jacket.
Clasping the compass firmly, Jones held it out for Emma; its needle was spinning again, pointing toward the enormous attraction in front of them.
The two made eye contact, Emma smiling in spite of herself, and Jones spurred the horse to gallop faster toward the mountain.
When they reached its massive base, Emma realized that the river seemed to split the range into two separate mountains, creating a narrow ravine just large enough for the horse to navigate, as if to invite them in. Jones hesitated a moment, but Emma nodded her chin against his back shoulder, urging him slowly forward.
Almost there…
Emma had just enough space to look up, the steep and jagged walls of rock towering on either side of them. She and Jones were forced to squint, as night had crept up on them, and except for a small glowing at what appeared to be the end of the corridor, there was little in terms of visibility.
She saw that the river slowed to a near stop, the particles of ice becoming a solid mass, like a large python ice sculpture. As they neared the light, Jones held up his good hand in front on his eyes to adjust, and the horse slowly made its way into a large clearing about the size of a basketball court.
Where there had been a slight dusting of frost on the land outside, this was different. Nearly the entire gorge was crystal clear, with large stalagmites protruding from the ground, and boulders that one could almost see through. Every surface was covered in powder white snow, not a blemish to be observed.
She had noticed a quiet covering the land when they had left the woods some time ago, but this valley had been absolutely silent. Emma could easily hear Jones' short breaths, and even the blood in her veins seemed to make a sound as it was pumped throughout her body.
As pristine and safe as the area looked, she felt uneasiness settle in her chest, and Emma was torn between a sense of excitement that they had come to the right place, and an overwhelming urge to flee.
Jones turned to look behind them and grabbed her arm, his voice nearly booming over the quiet.
"There, Darling. Look."
Emma let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding and slid off the back of the horse in a trance, following Jones. He seemed to be utterly confused, but in awe, of the grand site that lay before them.
Towering over the river that came from the ravine, also completely frozen solid, was a massive waterfall.
It must have reached four or five stories, its ridges of where water had once flowed over the rocks glistening like diamonds. Emma realized that the brightness extending from the waterfall was the source of light from before.
She felt Jones nudge her slightly with his hook, holding the compass in his hand as if to indicate that they needed to move closer to it. Emma nodded in agreement, and carefully approached the mysterious landmark.
There was a small pool about six or seven feet wide at the base of the waterfall, but due to its frozen state, Emma was unable to determine how deep it once was. She tested the durability of the surface with her boot before carefully walking onto the ice.
Though unsurprised that there was a reflection coming from the frozen waterfall's surface, Emma was a bit jarred by her own appearance.
Her hair was completely out of sorts, mangled to the point of hilarity, as Emma fleetingly wondered how Jones had refrained from teasing her all this time. More than anything, her face seemed almost worn; the lack of sleep showing itself in the form of dark circles under her eyes.
"Now you realize what an astonishing sight I am fortunate enough to behold."
Emma shot him a glare from over her shoulder and was greeted with a look of innocence, Jones holding out his arms to the side.
"I meant that as a compliment, luv."
As his mouth morphed into a wide grin, Emma moved to snap at him with a remark regarding his unruly beard, when she felt a piercing cold overtake her senses. It was as if she was being followed, a fear creeping up her spine, the hairs on her neck standing at attention.
"Mommy."
The small voice came from behind Emma, in a tone of desperation and sorrow. She turned slowly to face the waterfall, her reflection fading, and was met by a familiar scene that nearly made Emma's heart stop.
A toddler stood facing out a large window, a white cotton blanket grasped tightly in her hand. Golden curls ran over the small shoulders, making her the vision of a princess to anyone with an appreciation for beauty. The child's rosy cheeks were streaked wet with tears, her voice shaky as she cried out again.
"Mommy... want Mommy."
Emma felt, rather than heard, Jones' approach from behind and she tensed in preparation for him to touch her, but he didn't.
"Is that child you, lass?"
She grimaced at the recognition; that the scene in front of her was not just one that played in her mind anymore, but one Jones could witness for himself. Emma nodded slowly, but couldn't turn to meet his eyes.
The toddler was crying inconsolably, as her parents had decided to go out on a date that night to celebrate, leaving her alone with a stranger for the first time.
It was her first memory; not the birthday cake she got when she was three, or the stars that her father painted onto her bedroom wall shortly after, but of that night.
They waved goodbye, the joy on their faces as they got into the car and sped off, a stark contrast to the emptiness in her tiny chest.
That was the first time that Emma had felt abandoned.
Without warning, the scene flashed, changing into something entirely different.
There had been nothing to prepare Emma for this. Even when she realized Henry hadn't been real in the garden, there had been a sense of triumph, a small victory in their search to get home.
But this; this was something she could not face. Not here. Not now. Not again.
The child was now a year older, wearing a pink t-shirt sprinkled with white flowers. She sat at a table, her short legs bobbing up and down in happiness, coloring a picture of two adults, a little girl, and a baby.
A middle-aged man with light brown hair sat down with the child at the table, his voice low and gentle. "Emma?"
The man gave her a tight-lipped smile as he gingerly touched her arm to get the child's attention. "Sweetheart, Mommy and Daddy need you to listen right now, ok?"
The child peered up into his eyes, a look of adoration and wonder on her little face. "Ok."
A woman with long, black hair, who apparently been listening in the other room, came out to the table, her eyes bloodshot. She went to stand behind her husband, a bump showing under her sweater.
"Emma, you need to know that we love you," the man began, his face distraught. "But Mommy is going to have a baby in a few months and we just don't have enough money..."
The child held up the colored paper, waving it around at them happily.
"A baby brother or sister! See Daddy?"
Her mother started to cry again, choked sobs filling the room despite her feeble attempts to suppress them. Emma reached out her hand, the miniature digits wrapping around the woman's arm.
"Don't cry, Mommy. I'll be this many," she positioned her other hand to show four fingers, "and I can help when baby comes."
The woman seemed unable to stand it any longer, running back into the hallway and out of sight. Her father bit his lip, and then took a deep breath.
"Emma, I packed all of your things in that purple suitcase that you like." He stood up and started down the hallway, but glanced back at the child. "You have to go away now," he said, the man's voice breaking on the last word as he made his way into the other room.
Emma frowned at that, not seeming to understand. "Go away? Was I bad?"
The man reappeared with the suitcase, a unicorn embroidered on the front. He picked her up and headed for the door, a determined look on his face.
"No. This just isn't your home anymore."
Her foster parents walked her out to an unfamiliar car, the woman holding onto her and weeping. The toddler didn't shed a tear, misunderstanding that she was only going away for a bit, but that her parents would come for her later.
But they never did.
That was the first time that Emma had felt lost.
She nearly heard Jones' soft murmurs beside her, feel his hand graze over her arm. But there was no waking from this daze, the relentless onslaught of suffering over many years, coming back to Emma in a matter of minutes.
Another flash.
A young teenager, nearly sixteen, appeared to be sitting alone in a cafeteria. Her blonde hair was straight, shades of purple and black streaking throughout, and her eyes were lined with a heavy layer of make-up.
A few other students shot the teen quick glances of uneasiness and whispers of mockery in her direction, but she seemed completely oblivious to anything else going on around her.
A grungy girl of the same age with short, dark, spiky hair came over and sat down from across the table.
"Hey Em," she said, her monotone voice was surprisingly loud over the chatter of kids at nearby tables, as Emma nodded mutely.
Her friend looked at Emma and raised an eyebrow, which was pierced with a silver loop. "I heard you were going to the dance this Friday," she said accusingly. "Don't tell me you're wasting your time at that Loserfest."
Emma seemed deep in thought, swirling a French fry in ketchup, as the condiment covered her plate like red paint on a canvas.
The blonde finally looked up, scowling. "I never said I wanted to go, Greta."
When her friend gave her an expectant look, Emma rolled her eyes, standing up and moving to throw away her lunch tray.
"I just said I wasn't not going."
The girls made their way out of the cafeteria, Greta's chains from her baggy jeans clinking against the studs on her belt. The chains were so heavy that the teen looked like a convict being transferred to a maximum security prison.
They trudged down the nearly empty hallway, most of the other students still at lunch. As they rounded the corner, Emma stopped suddenly, and she pulled her friend inside the girl's bathroom with her.
Three boys were talking in hushed voices by the water fountain, a laugh now erupting between them.
A slight blush appeared on Emma's cheeks, and Greta noticed her embarrassment, a look of understanding on her features.
"Are you still hung up on Josh?"
She sighed heavily, the stench of alcohol on her breath hitting Emma in the face.
"God, Emma, get over it. The guy is a douchebag wrapped in jockstrap."
As Emma turned her head back toward the boys, the one known as Josh shut his locker with a bang. His wavy, brown hair was perfect, the muscles on his arms flexing as he pulled on his letterman's jacket.
From that distance, Emma could just make out their words.
"So did either of you nerds get dates to the dance yet," Josh's voice was deep and confident, the smile from his angular jaw reminding Emma of the sun shining on her while she tanned in summer, the brightness too much to look directly at for too long.
"Nah, Jessica said she is already going with Ben. Can you believe that shit? What a slut."
"You just don't have the stamina for it, Houser."
The heaviest of the three boys laughed at his friend, shoving him into the locker with his biting joke.
"How about you, Josh? I heard that a certain Swan was hoping you'd ask her. She's kinda cute..."
A small gasp escaped her, as Emma's breath caught, the revelation overcoming her ability to stop any physical reactions. Josh's laugh was bitter this time, as his mouth transformed into a sneer.
"Emma Swan?"
The girls exchanged glances, the two of them leaning forward in anticipation.
"More like ugly duckling." Josh flung a gym bag over his developed shoulder, a look of disgust on his face.
"Who the fuck wants to go to Homecoming with an orphan?"
If the he had swung a baseball bat into her stomach, it would have hurt less than those words had. Her insecurities and doubt, the feeling of loneliness that had followed her since childhood, came rushing back, the realization firming in her psyche like concrete.
That was the first time that Emma had felt unworthy.
Numbness. That was something Emma had only prayed for one other time in her life, and it hadn't been during her labor pains with Henry.
But she would give anything for it now; standing in front of the giant mirror of pain, the frozen waterfall taunting Emma with those images and words that plagued her for so long.
There was a deep, resonating chill surging through Emma's body as she watched the scenes unfold before her. Something pulled at her from below, making her knees weak; not the comfort of Jones' arms, but the frozen grasp of isolation and defeat.
"Come now, Emma, you must fight." Jones' voice seemed so distant, like a man shouting to her from across a football field.
A part of her had almost expected to see the next scene appear on the waterfall, and Emma let the image take over her senses completely. The feelings of her past came to life in her present self, and she could literally experience that which was reflected before her.
"Tallahasse, baby."
Neal caressed her chin with his thumb, a wide grin on his face, his dimples showing through his unshaved scruff.
Emma was soaring. No one had ever made her feel like this; exhilarated, yet secure. He was all the family she needed, and everything she had wanted since she could remember.
"We're almost home," he sighed to her.
Emma barely had time to wish him luck, and he leapt out of their shared car without a second glance.
Smiling, she moved into the driver's seat, and headed to their pre-decided meeting place. Soon, Neal would sell those watches he had stolen that she'd picked up for him at the train station, and they'd have enough money to go to Florida; enough to start a new life together, and far away from all of the foolish mistakes and empty promises.
They had a plan, and it meant that Emma would finally have what she always dreamt of: a family.
Pulling into a nearby parking lot by the river, she glanced down at her watch and saw that it was five minutes past the time for Neal to meet her.
Emma had packed bags for them both, which hadn't been difficult considering neither of them owned more than what they could fit in their small car.
There was warmth in her chest, the excitement and feeling of belonging filling her up. She knew that Neal wouldn't let her down; he was the one person who had never let her down.
Emma shivered at chilly wind coming from the water, the distinct smell of salt and fish invading her nostrils. Pressing the call button, she frowned when a machine came over the speaker on her cell phone.
The number wasn't in service?
"Damn right it's an error," she mumbled, hanging up the phone.
Emma heard the click of a gun and a gruff voice ring over the silence before she even turned around.
"Unless he set you up."
The statement from the middle-aged police officer should have surprised her, should have made her angry and devastated. But Emma's mind was reeling, and she could not process the idea that Neal had betrayed her.
"Hands on your head, miss."
Wait, no. This doesn't make any sense.
The officer maintained his stance, gun trained on her immobile form.
She could just make out a few bits of information: "stolen goods," "Canada," and "anonymous tip." What little of her brain was still functioning tried to rationalize that this was a trap; that they had Neal at the station and he had been uncooperative in giving them any more information.
When he said "train station," though, Emma realized that they couldn't possibly have known about their plan without Neal telling them the truth.
Even when the cop had barked at her to remove the watch, Emma's trance remained, the denial keeping all of her senses from working properly for a moment.
"Bloody hell lass, concentrate. You're stronger than this."
There was a brief jarring of her senses and Emma felt herself being shaken, pressed, and embraced. But it was too late; nothing could make this memory fade from the icy surface.
Nothing could erase this from her soul.
As the officer started to speak again, her heart slowed to a near stop, the force of all of this encompassing her stomach; relentlessly squeezing it like a vice. It was as if all the other betrayals in her life combined into one, crashing down onto her in a matter of seconds.
Suddenly, she felt the cold metal of handcuffs close around her wrists; Neal's betrayal morphed into a physical reality.
The officer's question about where the other watches were hung in the air over them, and the last remnants of Emma's hope ebbed away with her four words in response.
"They're not coming back."
That was the first time that Emma gave up on a dream.
Even her warm tears had frozen to her cheeks, the arctic prison leaving Emma motionless. Where the plains had heightened her senses, the waterfall had stunned every one of them; all but the incredible aching in her chest.
Jones' shouts to get her to respond seemed more like a faint murmur, the details of his face a mere blur beyond the barrier of tears still waiting to fall as she dropped to her knees.
She didn't care where they were or if there was danger nearby. All thoughts of whether the compass glowed, their hygiene, and if a ring was in the vicinity, were now the furthest from her mind.
Emma had little recognition of being pulled immediately to her feet again, the sound of hooves clattering over the ice. Neither the warmth of his arms nor the reassurance from his voice could carry her out the dark abyss.
Perhaps this is why she had ended up here; the hardships that had clouded over a large part of her past had now returned to destroy the happiness she had built.
His voice swirled around her again. "It's opened…must go inside…need to get you warm, luv."
Emma was just conscious enough to realize that she was being carried, the brown blur following them, more than likely their horse trudging behind.
It was much darker now, and Emma felt the hard ground as he laid her against a wall of some sort. She could just make out Jones' silhouette, as he pulled the horse further into what she guessed was a cave, still speaking to her in soothing tones.
"Not to fear, lass. I'll make a fire… leftover twigs from this morning's campsite."
Apparently the initial shock was wearing off as Emma noticed a small spark from across the area they shared, and she realized that the fire was already started.
As the numbness slowly began to fade, it was replaced with an onslaught of memories and voices. The heaviness of her chest grew, along with an unmistakable feeling of suffocation settling in.
Surviving the elements and physical wear of Narnia had been nothing compared to the overwhelming emotions invading her now. They had just witnessed the first eighteen years of her life, and now Emma felt like the lost, abandoned, unworthy, and hopeless girl she once was.
She watched as the flame grew brighter from only a few yards away. Jones had to hunch slightly as he made her way over to her from across the cave, which she now realized was no larger than a living room.
"Can you hear me, Darling?"
His voice was clearer this time, as Jones unpacked the gear, unzipping one of their sleeping bags and laying it out next to them. Emma felt a tug on her boots, the coolness of the cavern floor against her socks.
She saw him follow with his boots immediately after, setting them off to the side, and then kneeling directly in front of her.
"Emma, please. You must say something; you have me worried beyond belief."
Her back against the damp cavern wall, Emma stared into Jones' chest, the slight glint of gold from his necklaces, a minor distraction to the excruciation going on inside of her.
The tears had fallen, but her voice couldn't or wouldn't follow, like an act of defiance to all of those who had pained her.
His hand cupped her cheek without warning, surprising Emma somewhat, as she continued to stare into the golden tokens dangling just inches from her face.
"Emma?"
'Emma, look at me!' The gold dangling from his neck shone brighter than any of the treasure piled high around them. When she finally met his eyes, the look on his face surprised her so much that she almost stumbled backwards, his features covered in desperation and betrayal.
'Have I told you lie?'
No. Not since she had held that dagger to his throat and he had confessed his true identity, his only reason for working with Cora.
Revenge.
Except it was something else now; there had been a brightness in his eyes when he had told her she was brilliant and amazing, the warmth of his touch when they clasped hands had almost made her change her mind.
Almost.
'I can't take a chance that I'm wrong about you.'
Emma shook her head slightly, allowing the brief memory to wash over her as more details of that adventure became clearer.
Her eyes jumped up to Jones', seeing a flicker of flame that had nothing to do with the fire behind him.
Instead of being afraid of what she would find there, Emma already knew. She had already found what she'd been searching for, everything that she had been running from, and had turned her back on time and again.
It was him.
Green eyes met blue, the depths of an endless ocean, colliding with the hidden wonders of a vibrant forest. There was no hesitation, but Emma moved in slowly so she could appreciate the reaction of wonder and astonishment on Jones' face.
She took a second to wonder whether their first kiss had started like this, as Jones licked his lips in anticipation. Unwilling to wait any longer, Emma closed the small whisper of a gap that had remained between them.
The cavern lit up immediately, flames growing behind them and illuminating every shady corner of the area. There was an immense crackling as fire met ice, his lips fitting perfectly over hers.
Emma closed her eyes and allowed the feeling to overwhelm her, this time in a wonderful way, rather than painful. Like aloe over a raw burn, his soft kiss dulled the hurt and despair, lifting the weight and tightness of her chest.
Moaning, she pulled his head into hers, intensifying their touch, acting as if his mouth was the breath of life itself. A cloud lifted from her mind, from deep inside of her, and Emma felt as if someone had removed a blindfold from her eyes after being in the dark for so long.
No more questions, no more second guessing herself or doubt as to what was real.
It was all wrapped up into that moment: every smile, every scowl, every innuendo, every stolen glance; every word that she had pretended didn't mean a thing, but had meant everything.
His arms wrapped around her, Jones' good hand still grasping the back of her neck, lightly tugging on her hair.
Emma ran her tongue over his lower lip, his throaty groan rewarding her immediately. His usual taste of spice remained, now mixed with tartness from wild berries that had managed to find in the Shuddering Woods.
The warmth radiating from his skin was nothing compared to the fire from his mouth, now doing unbelievable things to her own.
It was Jones who finally slowed the pace, carefully parting from their embrace, and he peppered her nose and chin with feathery kisses, as they both struggled to return their breathing to normal.
"I'd say we may have topped the other kisses with that one," she sighed, her voice raspy from their heated moment.
He leaned his forehead against hers, seeming to focus on every sensation. "Yes, well at least you don't appear to regret it this time."
Emma grabbed onto his gold chain, twirling it in her fingers.
"Now I know you are lying," she murmured, the fire dying down slightly behind them as the horse whinnied nearby.
Jones quirked an eyebrow, an air of playfulness in his voice and a grin on his lips, as he placed his finger under her chin so as to force her gaze upward.
"And how is that, luv?"
Emma's eyes closed briefly, but she drew in a deep breath, and opened them again to meet his unrelenting stare.
"Because I didn't regret the first one."
His playfulness disappeared in an instant, the man's features flashing from confusion to disbelief, as she knew without saying anything more that he understood.
Of course he did. He always had.
Emma couldn't help the wide smile that erupted onto her face, the elation inside bursting to the top.
"Hey Hook."