Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time or its characters.
I knew you were
You were going to come to me
And here you are
But you better choose carefully
'Cause I, I'm capable of anything
Of anything
and everything
Emma Swan was in complete darkness.
The absolute nothing that surrounded her was unsettling; particularly the air. It was quite still, like being in a broom closet with no window: and it was warm, although Emma wasn't sure where the source of heat came from.
She had walked for what felt like hours, and had neither seen, nor heard anything.
And then there was light.
It was as if someone had poked a hole in black construction paper, and held it over a lamp in a dark room; the beam of light growing, as she neared it.
Emma also heard the galloping of hooves, its noise piercing through the silence like a gunshot. She swerved around, nearly shouting in astonishment, as she came face-to-face with Regina.
A Regina who wore a long, white, beard and a vacant expression. Emma gaped at her for a moment, before she found her voice.
"Regina? What are you doing here, and why the hell do you like Santa?"
The queen did not respond, but stared back at Emma, as if waiting for her to say something else. Her eyes were dark and lifeless, but the woman's lips shone red like an apple, glistening from the single beam of light behind them.
Before she could ask her anything more, there was the distant sound of a child's laugh.
She should have been shocked, but Emma found that it felt oddly familiar, like the sound was something she had expected to hear. Walking closer to the light, she started to make out more details of the scene around her.
They were outside, and it must have been spring time. Flowers bloomed in all crevices of a rock wall, which had appeared out of the darkness like a mirage. Unlike her and Regina, though, there was no color in anything that surrounded them; like they were in an old movie from the 30's.
She felt the warm breeze over her face and caught a whiff of lavender and lilies.
Emma glanced back at Regina, who continued to follow her, but said nothing, staring out toward the light as if in a daze. The queen reminded her of a mindless zombie, trudging behind her silently.
"This is weird," Emma mumbled, walking further along the rock wall.
Suddenly, she spotted a small child sitting alone: a boy.
He could not have been more than two or three years old, and the toddler was hunched over, looking at something that Emma couldn't make out. He appeared to be mumbling to himself and held the object in the palm of his hands. Both were colorless, like the rest of their surroundings, but she could see his dark hair blowing in the wind.
"There you are," she said gently, suddenly feeling relief and warmth fill her chest. "You know you can't wander out on your own."
The boy continued to talk to the object, too softly for her to make out the words. As Emma reached the toddler, she saw a white tail move against colorless fur, and realized he was holding a small bunny.
She smiled, and reached down to pick up the animal, before Regina's voice rang out, making Emma jump.
"What do you want, Miss Swan?"
She turned around to face the queen, frowning, but was startled to see that although her beard was gone, Regina's eyes were now replaced by mirrors, which glimmered in the bright light.
Emma shook her head in confusion, and reached out to Regina, as if to try and help her, but the queen flinched, pulling away from Emma's outstretched hand.
"There's nothing you can do."
The woman's face was still expressionless, the mirror eyes shining back at Emma; her own baffled gaze reflected there.
She took a minute to try and understand what was happening, but suddenly remembered the boy, and turned around to see the toddler run off into the darkness; the bunny scurrying in the other direction.
Emma moved to run after him, but a scream rang out, and her heart caught at the sound; more familiar and blood-chilling than anything else had from this odd scene.
Searching around frantically, Emma yelled out to the source of the scream, the darkness covering her again, the surroundings disappearing into the nothingness that had before.
She implored Regina to help her, but turned to see the queen was gone.
Emma was alone in the dark, and lost.
Lost… as she had always been.
The tapping against the window should have awakened her before now, but she wasn't entire certain long the obnoxious noise had been bothering her.
She let her eyes adjust to the bright light and stretched, Emma's muscles sore from the intensive training over the past week.
After Aurora and Philip had shown up begging for their help and warning them about the witches, David had insisted that she, Neal, and Hook were all trained extensively. Recently they have been working on sword fighting while on horseback, and although she felt pretty comfortable on a horse, keeping her balance and concentration while in the saddle, was quite a challenge.
She made her way over to the window, pulling away the soft, velvet window curtains to get a better a view of what was making the annoying racket. Pushing the window out, Emma dodged quickly, as a rock flew past her head; a certain pirate wincing at the near contact.
"Bloody hell, Swan."
Frowning, she looked down to see Hook standing below her balcony, dressed in a black, leather vest, and suede riding trousers. Although Emma had no problem with the trench coat and leather pants he normally wore, she had recently enjoyed his pirate twist on a royal soldier's attire.
Nevertheless, she crossed her arms over her chest in defiance, and made sure to portray her annoyance.
"What's with the rocks?"
He craned his neck up at her, grinning mischievously, as the morning birds chirped around them in the sunlight. She shivered slightly in the late December air, but it continued to remain rather warm for the winter season.
"Normally, I would use cannon fire to get my point across, but I was fairly certain that wouldn't be the proper way to woo a princess."
She didn't respond, but sighed poignantly, and leaned over the balcony wall, Emma's blonde curls falling around her face.
"I assume that David asked you to fetch me, then?"
"No, actually," Hook replied, glancing away from her, his white tunic blowing in the wind, as he turned toward his horse. "I was sent by your boy."
Emma straightened up, and craned her neck over to the stables to see if she could catch a glimpse of Henry. Her son was even more dedicated to training than David was, but she had done her best to limit his involvement with the war preparation.
Hook mounted the saddle, and straightened up, before pulling his eyes up to hers again.
"The lad appeared on the deck of my ship this morning, and said you had wanted to begin the training at dawn."
Henry overheard far too much for his own good; as Emma had mentioned an early start to David yesterday.
She raised an eyebrow at him, propping her chin up with both hands.
"I didn't realize you were accepting visitors on the Jolly Roger already," Emma teased, changing the subject.
She nearly laughed at the level of surprise that flashed across his face for a brief moment, before Hook recovered again, as the horse stomped his hooves in anticipation.
"By all means, Darling," he drawled, digging in his heels to move the animal forward, before shooting Emma a wink. "But if you raise a man's hopes, just be sure to not to disappoint."
Emma watched him gallop over the courtyard toward the stables, and despite everything going on around them, she let her face break into a smile, the hammering of her heart echoing over the early morning silence.
So you wanna play with magic?
Boy, you should know what you're falling for.
Five hours of alternating between sitting in a saddle and swinging a sword that was nearly the length of her entire leg, was just the beginning of Emma's troubles.
Despite her father and Hook's assurances that she had improved over the weeks, Emma had spent a majority of the hours that morning reflecting on her recent dream. Gold made it clear that these visions were more than likely glimpses of the future; both potential events that might happen, or certain outcomes that would come to pass.
Unlike the dreams before, though, this one had been completely out of place; nothing like the other visions of her on the Jolly Roger, which had all seemed connected and in sequential order.
She had never seen the toddler boy's face before; and yet, there was a familiarity in his presence. Like her other dreams, Emma felt as if she knew what was happening, but was now unable to place or make sense of the details.
And then there was Regina; whose behavior and appearance in the dream had been utterly baffling. She didn't think much of the beard, but the queen's eyes turning to mirrors had, metaphorically and literally, forced Emma to see herself.
In the dream, Regina had said that there was nothing Emma could do; which made her think of Aurora's desperate statement to her just over a week ago, when the royal pair had shown up at the holiday ball, seeking refuge from Maleficent and Zelena.
They had barely survived the witches' wrath; many of their personal guards had sacrificed their own lives to help them escape. They had fought for days to secure the castle, but even their large army was no match for the hags' combined magic.
The realization had struck her in that moment, when Emma had stared down into Aurora's bloodshot eyes; a feeling of helplessness creeping up once again.
She saw the slip of paper from the restaurant in New York appear in her mind again, as the ink scrawled magically onto the parchment between her fingers.
Blue light strikes, and twice the Savior will deliver before the next storm.
Whether it was Gold, or one of the witches who had tried to lure her to Storybrooke, Emma now understood that the premonition was coming to pass, and that there may be some truth to the cryptic message.
Despite what Aurora had said, it was she, Emma, who had to ensure her family's safety. It was she, who had to discover her true magic potential, and defeat any adversary that came to harm the kingdom.
Their kingdom.
Emma blew out a deep sigh, as a drop of sweat rolled down her cheek from the excessive training, her face flushed.
She watched as Neal and Henry finished their exercise. Neal set his stance on the ground, as Henry swung a practice sword down at his father from his seat in the saddle, the clang of their connecting swords making Emma cringe.
She finished putting her horse to bed, and Emma took a sip of water, realizing immediately that it had a different taste… his taste.
Looking down at the mouth of the canteen in surprise, Emma let the information sink in, before she narrowed her eyes accusingly at Hook, who was only a few feet away in the stall next to hers.
"Did you drink my water?"
The pirate stopped unpacking his saddle, and glanced over at Emma. She could tell that Hook chose to play the victim, as he pouted at her slightly.
"Sadly, I ran out, luv."
Emma walked over into his stall, and shoved the canteen into his chest, whispering so that David wouldn't hear them. She maintained his gaze, however, their faces inches apart.
"Keep your hand and hook to yourself."
The increasing wind raged against the stalls, causing the wood to groan under its pressure. Despite the distracting noise, Emma heard the flirtation in his tone, as Hook maintained his façade of innocence.
"You would rather see a man die of thirst?"
He knew she had recognized his taste on the canteen.
Hook grinned knowingly at her, and Emma moved to walk away with a huff, but she stopped, as the cold, hard steel wrapped around her wrist. Emma glanced down and opened her mouth to scold him, but stopped when she saw the somber expression on his face.
"For how much longer are we to pain one another, Darling?"
There was a transition in temperature, as the steel turned red hot, and the two said nothing for a moment. He must have felt the magic surge between them, because Hook glanced down at his metal appendage with a surprised expression, his mouth slightly agape.
"What do you want from me, Hook?"
She swore the pirate winced at her question, but he let out a humorless laugh afterward, looking up at the cobwebbed rafters above them. He waited a moment, before meeting her eyes again.
"Why do you insist on avoiding my real name?"
Although Emma hadn't expected him to say this, she had given the subject some thought since their conversation about it in Narnia. The safest answer, though, was the one Emma actually responded with.
"Besides Henry, everyone else calls you 'Hook,' so I don't see a problem with-"
"You are not 'everyone else,' Emma."
She gasped slightly, and the connection between her wrist and his hook struck Emma again with a small jolt, before they both glanced down at juncture of their contact.
"Hey, can one of you guys help me with this?"
David had yelled from across the stables, and Emma pulled away from Hook's grasp, as the pirate stood there with a pained expression. They met each other's stare one last time, before she spun on her heel and walked toward her father.
It wasn't the first time she had felt heat under Hook's touch, but it was clear that something unique had taken place in that moment; something Emma couldn't explain without coming to terms with a few things.
The strong smell of manure made Emma scrunch her nose, and she stepped carefully, making her way over to where David shoveled out his horse's stall. Her father had insisted that they all clean up after their own horses, rather than leave it to the stablemen, as he had been doing it his entire life.
David wiped his brow with the clean side of his gloved hand, the sweat glistening on his forehead.
"Hold that open for me, so I can lay the straw down," he said, and Emma lifted the spring-hinged lid from the bedding bin.
David hunched over, grabbing a large pile of straw on his pitchfork, and threw it over into the stall, making him sneeze. He laughed and shook his head.
"My damn allergies are as bad as my mother's were," David said with a sniffle.
She watched him work in silence, as seconds became minutes. Emma craned her head over to see Hook talking to Henry and Neal, before she heard her father speak again.
"You know; you are like her in some ways."
Emma glanced over at David, who pulled his horse into the clean stall, and appeared deep in thought.
"Ruth? How so?"
David pulled a brush from the bucket and began to groom the horse, its coarse bristles scratching the animal's hair, while the man stared out the window absentmindedly.
"Well, she always saw the best in people."
It wasn't easy to hear and talk about the family she never got a chance to meet, but Emma knew it was important to her parents that they could share their memories with her.
"She gave those around her a sense of hope in themselves, Emma; as do you. Without even realizing it, you are able to bring others together, and make them believe they can accomplish great things."
It was hard to imagine how David had come to that conclusion, as Emma always thought herself a cynic. She was the type of person who assumed the worst, and rarely trusted anyone completely.
Accept for when she did.
Her father must have seen her disbelief, because he dropped the brush in the horse's bucket, and made his way back over to her. Leaning against the frame of the stall, David's expression growing serious.
"You brought us together in Neverland; the most unlikely group of people, and we overcame the impossible."
Emma wanted to argue that it was the desperation to find Henry and get him back home safely, but David motioned for them to continue to the next stall.
"And don't think for one second that I haven't noticed the difference you've made in a certain captain's life," he said quietly, glancing over his shoulder at Hook.
She did her best to appear indifferent, but Emma could see there was no use trying to play David for a fool.
"I had a chance to get to know him during the time you were in New York," he said, looking as if it wasn't easy for him to admit. "He's a better man because of you, Emma."
Words simply wouldn't form to her lips, so instead, she made her way into the other stall, and took a seat on the stool in the far corner. David joined her then, and hunched over to check the hooves of Emma's horse.
She gazed out the window at the bright sun, her head pounding.
Shouldn't have skipped breakfast.
"Did I ever tell you the story of Excalibur?"
He had completely switched direction on her, but Emma was happy to have the change of topic.
Whatever story she had been told about the fabled sword was probably anything but the truth, and Emma fought the urge to roll her eyes; but instead, shook her head, so that her father could continue.
"Shortly before your mother got married, Regina gave Snow an ultimatum," David began, prying mud from the horse's shoe. "She told us that if we left the kingdom, and gave up any claim to the throne, that she would let us live peacefully in exile."
Emma's brows shot up, and she found herself surprised by the queen's offer. It didn't sound like such a bad idea to her; a life in the country, away from war and magic. She watched David hammer another nail into the horse's shoe, as he continued.
"Snow considered giving up the kingdom for sake of her people's safety," he said, as her horse crunched on the fresh hay in the feeder, apparently oblivious to David's work. "But I wanted her to fight for what was rightfully hers. I knew that Snow was capable of great things, and that it was her destiny to lead the kingdom; if only she'd believe that herself."
Emma looked at David's face, which fell in that moment.
"I made a deal with Rumpelstiltskin, who told me the legend of a sword called Excalibur; and that it had been forged into a stone, awaiting a true ruler to pull it from its unmovable prison."
His voice grew low, then, and he glanced up at Emma, meeting her gaze. "Snow and I travelled to the stone, and she was able to release Excalibur, giving her the courage to stand up to Regina."
Frowning, Emma got up from her seat and looked down at her father, realizing his motive now. She could tell by his demeanor, and their previous topic, that something was out of place.
"It wasn't real, was it?"
David seemed surprised, but merely shook his head, standing up from the horse.
"No, it wasn't. I placed a fake sword there myself, in hopes that it would help Snow see the great things she was capable of; which it did," he added with a sheepish grin. "But your mother certainly wasn't happy when she found out that I had been dishonest with her."
She moved over to the door way, and crossed her arms at him, a knowing scowl on her face, as Emma already knew the answer to the question she was about to ask.
"And just what is the message you wanted me to get from this story?"
He frowned slightly at Emma then, and gave her that iconic Charming expression that meant: 'I'm your father; a wise and virtuous man, so listen closely.'
"Well, you have always been hard on yourself, Emma; and I'm sure it couldn't have been easy to have lived a completely different life for a year, only to be ripped from it so suddenly," he said, moving over to where she stood in stall's doorway.
David glanced over at the others, who were still talking outside of the stables, and then met Emma's eyes again.
"I also know that Hook kept a few things from you during your time in Narnia; and that it's difficult to get past that, since you've been betrayed before."
Averting his gaze, she turned to watch Hook help Henry and Neal brush his horse, before David put a warm hand on her own, making Emma look back at her father, her eyes welling up slightly.
"Just remember that we all stray at some point in our lives, Emma," David said to her softly. "But it's those we love, who always show us the way back to our true self."
Of everything that David had taught and trained her on over the past weeks, nothing affected Emma quite so much like those words had; and she felt a twinge of gratitude at her father's words. Somehow David always found a way to understand what she needed to hear, the way only a few other people in her life did.
After a moment of silence, Emma frowned.
"David, there was something Mary Margaret said before Greyson was born, that I found sort of strange," she began, helping her father lift the saddles onto their holding racks.
He nodded to indicate that he was listening, straightening out the strings and belts.
"She seemed very certain that the two of you were having a girl," Emma replied, gauging his reaction for anything odd, but David merely smiled and shook his head.
"We both talked about the sex of the baby for months, but when we were being held captive by Zelena, Mary Margaret overheard her say something about awaiting the birth of a princess."
Emma stared at him, dumbfounded, but said nothing in response, as David caught her reaction.
"Yeah, I know. I told her not to base her certainty on the ravings of a crazy witch," he laughed, unpacking his saddle. "Obviously, Zelena won't be applying for a job as an Obstetrician anytime soon. Do you think she has any…"
There was a feeling like being submerged in water, and Emma suddenly watched David's lips move, no sound or words came out of them. She scrunched her face in confusion, and shook her head in an attempt to jar her senses.
"He doesn't understand, milady."
She nearly jumped at the voice, rather high-pitched, but as clear as day. Emma swerved her neck around, searching for the source of the odd statement, but she and David were the only ones in the barn. Her ears still felt full, like they were about to pop on an airplane, but when Emma looked over at her father, who now stared at her with a worried expression, she heard a different voice, more hushed and raspy.
Emma realized then, that the words hadn't come from a person.
"Who cares. Why don't you tell him to give us something real to eat besides these damned, stale oats?"
Her eyes went wide, as Emma stared her father's white horse in the next stall. The animal's mouth hadn't moved, but he met her eyes dead on. She saw her own black horse move over toward the partition, and stand next David's steed, shaking her large head with a sharp whinny.
"Leave her alone Astor; she has a great challenge to face soon enough."
Emma stumbled backward slightly into stable wall, her arms scraping against the splintered wood, as the heavy feeling in her ears lifted, and she felt David pull her out of the numbing daze.
"Emma?"
She waited for the horses to say something else, and realized that was insane. Shaking her head again, blinking rapidly, she looked over at David with a frown.
"I have to go," she said hurriedly.
Ok, it's official, Swan: you are losing your mind in a world where magic is a way of life.
Without a second glance, Emma took off toward the castle, shouting over at Henry that she would see him at dinner. She saw Hook stare at her in concern, but Emma kept moving, allowing the warm breeze to fall over her face, in an attempt to clear her head.
It's in the palm of your hand now, baby
It's a yes or a no, no maybe
So just be sure before you give it all to me,
All to me
Give it all to me
"Dammit, I said to feel the magic!"
Emma had about half-a-second to wonder whether this was all worth it, before another ball of fire whizzed at her head; and Emma deflected it with her powers, as the smell of singed hair filled her nose.
Over three hours atop the western tower, and Emma had already twisted both ankles, cut her hand on the battlements around the parapet walk, and had been burned on two separate occasions. Regina had managed to get more out of Emma's magic this time, although she admitted to the queen that she had been practicing on her own since their first (and last) session.
The impressive part, though, was that Emma was able to maintain her composure, despite her apparently-unstable mental status; as was proven back at the stables, when she had a run-in with the chatty steads.
Doing her best to push back the fear that she was loosing it completely, Emma took a deep breath and looked over toward the horizon. It was nearly dusk now, the sun ebbing off in the distance, as shades of burnt orange and plum reflected on their faces.
Regina seemed to enjoy the attempt to get her student's temper to flare. Between her quips regarding Hook, and the insults toward her wasted powers, she gave Emma plenty of reasons to get the familiar heat to rise in her palms and chest.
"Magic is power. If you aren't willing to take it, then you aren't learning anything," Regina shouted nearly twenty feet away, the heavy wind whipping her dark hair around like a wild halo, as clouds formed above them.
Although she had shown improvement, the queen was obviously frustrated that Emma continued to hold back.
"Your powers are worthless if you don't let your emotion overcome you," Regina said, panting, as she paced back and forth.
As much as she didn't want to admit it, Emma felt right on the edge; and she was sure that losing her composure would take her magic to a completely different level.
"If I could just learn to use my emotion and control it," Emma replied, exasperated.
She didn't seem to hear her, the queen nearly shaking with fury. Emma narrowed her eyes at Regina in confusion.
Why was she so upset?
"You are a complete waste of magic," Regina ranted, moving closer to Emma now, but not making eye contact. Her lips continued to move, but Emma was unable to make out all of the words, the air growing colder around them.
Emma felt herself shiver, as she watched the raving queen carefully. Regina stopped four or five feet in front of her, and stared down at her feet, as if to concentrate, and Emma could almost feel the other woman's anger resonate from her body. There was a moment of silence, before Regina lifted her gaze.
"Perhaps your parents were right to abandon you after all."
Her words had affected Emma more than she cared to admit, but she knew it was Regina's last resort to get her to react. The area around them grew darker, and she looked up to acknowledge that the various clouds above them had formed into a large, black one; the ominous object hovering over them like a blanket of death.
Emma tilted her head in an attempt to calm Regina down, but the queen's face was stony and unwavering; chilling her throughout.
"Regina, we have to find something more powerful than hate to fuel my magic," Emma argued, her fingertips buzzing with energy.
The image of her son appeared in her mind's eye, and she suddenly had the key to a connection with Regina. Somehow, it had been there in her subconcious all along, but convincing the queen wouldn't be easy.
"Like Henry," she began, taking a step toward Regina, who flinched slightly, raising her hands and moving into an attack stance. "When we saved Storybrooke together, down in that mine, it wasn't anger or evil that fueled our power," Emma continued her voice lower now, cold drops of rain splattering onto her bare arms.
"It was our love for Henry, and the desire to keep him safe," she finished, putting a cautious hand on Regina's shoulder.
Emma was surprised to feel that Regina's body gave off an extreme level of cold, like a surge of ice flowing through her; but the queen's face had softened then, and she pursed her lips at Emma.
"Henry," she mumbled, a small smile on her face. "Yes…"
With a deep breath of relief, Emma went to speak again, but suddenly Regina's eyes widened; and Emma was thrown backward by a violent, red stream, and hit the stone wall behind her with a crunch.
Emma saw stars appear before her eyes, but regained her senses rather quickly, getting to her feet. She felt the heat rise in her again; a sickening ache in her stomach, that Emma understood as anger taking over. There seemed to be a level of surprise on Regina's face, but she just stared back icily, as thunder rumbled in the distance.
"You need to be ready for anything," she nearly growled, approaching her with hands raised. "And if you won't do what is necessary to protect our son, than I will."
Of everything that Regina said, nothing had angered her more than that statement; and Emma allowed the rising heat inside of her boil over. Her hands lit up, scalding hot, but when she looked down, her hands glowed a bright blue.
Regina stopped walking toward her then, but kept her hands up, now burning with fire from her own magic. Emma raised her head to the sky, and the cloud that covered over them suddenly came to life; hundreds of sparks flickering bright light within a dark abyss.
She made one, last, subconscious attempt to stop herself, before raising her arms above her. Two large bolts of lightning connected with her palms, like the current inside of a giant light bulb. Emma felt the force of it resonate through her bones, but held on to it desperately.
With an astonished expression, Regina stood firm, her magic at the ready, before Emma thrust the blue current at the queen with all her might, wave after wave of emotion surging out with her power.
A stream of red fire met the current of blue lightening, as the two women stared each other down. Emma gritted her teeth, already exhausted from the amount of energy it took to hold Regina there, and had just enough awareness to regret taking her on with such force. The queen seemed to struggle also, though, her feet sliding backward slightly, before Emma's vision started to blur.
Suddenly, she could no longer hang on and broke the connection, falling to the floor with a thud. This seemed to wake Regina from her angry stupor, and the queen ran over to Emma, who was doubled over with a sick feeling in her stomach.
"Are you alright?"
She nodded her head, panting heavily, as her senses slowly returned. Emma grimaced in pain, as Regina pulled her to her feet, the clouds parting to reveal the night's stars. Two particularly bright ones caught her attention, glimmering like a pair of curious eyes watching her intently.
"That was remarkable, Emma."
Well, she wouldn't have used that exact phrase. If this was what it took to get the most out of her magic, Emma wasn't sure she was prepared to do it again.
Unless she absolutely had to.
Shrugging off the queen, she put a suprisingly cold, clammy hand to her head, which was throbbing.
Emma groaned, hoping some dinner would settle her stomach. "Looks like you were right, Regina..."
Pulling on her cloak gingerly and wincing at the effects from their training that was sure to leave physical reminders, Emma moved to go back inside, before mumbling over shoulder at the queen.
"... hate works for my magic too."
Are you ready for, ready for
A perfect storm, perfect storm
'Cause once you're mine, once you're mine
There's no going back
A/N: Lyrics used in the chapter were from "Dark Horse," written and performed by Katy Perry. Copyright: Deeetta Music, WB Music Corp.