A/N: Well done for those of you who figured out last chapter's cliffhanger; though I'm surprised hardly anyone guessed it in a review. I appreciate that you all read very carefully and pay attention to the detail that I try to enhance the story with. Thank you guys so much for reading, following, and reviewing. I can't show my appreciation enough, and I don't plan to stop now.
Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time or its characters.
Warning: This chapter contains a few graphic scenes of violence and earns its M rating.
The moment she opened her eyes, Emma felt as if she had been here before.
Of course she had physically been here before, nestled around two layers of blankets in Killian's cabin, as thunder rumbled outside of the heavily-swaying ship. But Emma felt like she had been here before; in this moment and under these circumstances.
The last time she had such a feeling of déjà vu, Emma was in Narnia; the same place where true love's kiss had broken her curse in that cave.
Right before her and Killian had slept together… multiple times.
There was a wave of panic, and Emma jolted upright from the bed. She winced sharply, as a stabbing pain shot from the back of her skull to her forehead. Emma's vision blurred slightly, though the cabin was rather dimly-lit anyway; with only a few sconces on the wall as her source of light.
Perhaps this was another vision or dream; one that only taunted her with the idea that she carried the same magical child Maleficent and Zelena were after.
Without thinking, her hand shot down to her abdomen, and Emma's mind did her best to process the facts.
She had most definitely forgotten to take her birth control shot; something that Emma always remembered to administer once every three months. And since she had been in the process of doing so in New York, before Killian had knocked on the door to take them to Storybrooke, Emma hadn't given it a second thought since then.
There would be no other signs for her to be certain; that was, until the sudden mood swings, slight weight gain, and morning sickness had started.
How could she have been so stupid?
Despite the entire thing being unplanned, unexpected, and complicated; this was the worst situation Emma could imagine for a baby to be brought into. They were at war with not one, but two powerful witches, after all.
The wind and rain pelted against the sides of the ship, and she heard a series of loud noises from above deck; the crew obviously busy with something. The sweltering temperature in the small cabin had been enough to make Emma sweat so much, that her tank top clung to her body.
She swung her feet over the edge of the bed, and onto the creaky floorboards below, as the ship lurched sideways again. Emma steadied herself with both arms and took a deep breath, the scent of him still lingering on the sheets, as she felt her eyes start to water.
Killian had obviously taken off her vest and boots, after she had passed out and hit her head. She imagined him holding Emma's unconscious form, with no idea that she carried a child inside of her: their child.
Oh God, how is he going to react?
A loud of crack of lightning struck overhead, and she flinched in surprise, the wet tears falling onto her lips. Emma slowly darted her tongue out to catch them, tasting their bitter saltiness, before she glanced over to see her sword resting beside a nearby chair.
She lifted herself off of the bed, and pulled on her boots, as another sickened feeling hit her. Her stomach was empty, but she couldn't fathom trying to eat anything; though Emma knew she must.
It's not just about what you want anymore.
Suddenly there was a loud bang, and Emma jerked violently, before she bent down and grabbed her sword. Though still a bit unsteady on her feet, Emma was surprised to see how well balanced she was, despite the relentless rocking of the ship.
It was then that she realized why Killian hadn't been by her side when she woke up; why no one had been there to watch over her. In her distracted state, Emma had forgotten the details of the vision from back in New York; the day her pirate had showed up.
She ran to the door, remembering the same cold feeling of the brass knob, as she wrapped her hands around it, and turned. The door swung open violently with a bang, just as it had in her vision, and she felt the dread hover over her like a cloud.
The stairs, which were already slick with rain that had seeped between the gaps, nearly caused her to fall; before she pushed hard against the rough, splintered wood of the main hatch, and stepped onto the deck.
It was as Emma had feared: it appeared the Jolly Roger was under attack.
The crew all ran frantically across the deck, sailors shoving into Emma, as she tried to make sense of the scene in front of her.
It appeared that a majority of the men had focused their attention on the cannons, rolling them to the both sides of the ship, and were doing everything in their power to bring more ammunition from below deck. The rest, carried long harpoons and cutlass-like weapons of all sizes, moving to their respective posts, as ordered.
The rain pounded mercilessly over the ship, and Emma turned to face the helm, where she was sure he would be; but the captain was nowhere to be found, as one of his lieutenants struggled to control the wheel.
He has to be here somewhere.
She felt a cold, wet, hand grip her arm, and Emma was swung around to face a ragged-looking Neal.
"Em, what the hell are you doing out of bed?"
His shouted words barely carried over the raging wind, but she could tell he was furious. Apparently, Neal had assumed she would be in the cabin; though he should know by now, that Emma never stood on the sidelines.
Prying her arm from his grasp, she gave him an exasperated look, and hoped that it would send the message that this wasn't the time for a lecture.
He's lucky she still felt bad for puking all over him.
"I'm fine," she yelled over the wind. "What's everyone prepping for?"
Neal gave her a final look of indignation, before he shook his head. "Ariel seems to think there may be an attack coming," he shouted, the thunder rumbling around them.
A frantic sailor shoved into her from behind, and she reached out to steady herself against Neal.
"We need to talk to Killian," she said, her boots slipping over the drenched deck. "I think the mermaids are-"
There was a sudden tremor, and her words were cut off by a chorus of shouts from all around them. Emma and Neal both drew their swords, before something launched out of the water, and fell onto the deck with a resounding thud; its shimmering tail thrashing wildly in all directions.
The mermaids are here.
A nearby sailor didn't waste any time, and hacked at the mermaid with his cutlass, while the creature tried desperately to fend him off of her. Emma heard the cries of other men nearby, as the ear-shattering pistol shots rang out from across the ship.
They were being attacked from all sides.
She was completely drenched; hair sticking to her face, as Emma squinted against the brutal wind in desperation. The bow lurched upward from the impact of a massive wave, and she had to grab onto one of the cannons, to keep from falling over the side rail.
"Help me."
Emma swung her head around toward the mermaid, who continued to fight against the circle of sailors that had surrounded her. Water spilled over the edge of the ship, hitting Emma directly, her mouth filling with bitter taste of salt and blood.
She spluttered a moment, and then directed her attention to the mermaid, whose mouth opened slightly as she spoke again.
"Please, we aren't here to harm you."
Emma stared, dumbfounded, before she glanced over at Neal, whose attention was centered on something in the sea. She considered asking whether he had understood the mermaid too, but heard a feral yell from across the ship.
A burly man lunged, spearing the mermaid's tail with a harpoon. Her screech pierced through the howling wind, as if someone had raked their nails over a chalkboard. Emma saw the man raise his weapon again to deliver the killing blow, but she rushed forward.
"Wait!"
Ignoring Neal's protests, she ran over toward the group that surrounded the mermaid. Most of the men stopped their attack; their weapons still poised in defense, before Emma turned to the mermaid directly, her words barely audible over the heavy storm.
"Why are you here?"
The mermaid's face appeared curious, as if she was trying to read Emma's thoughts; her chestnut brown hair clinging to her shoulders. Although quite pale, her skin seemed to glisten, like it had been dusted with powdered diamonds.
After a moment parted her red lips; though they didn't move like a human's did when she spoke, remaining slightly agape, as if to catch her breath.
"Ariel has sent us to assist you. It's not the mermaids you should be afraid of…"
Almost on cue, the deck shook hard beneath their feet, and screams from all around them rang out into the night sky. It was then, that Emma knew something was wrong.
Very wrong.
She and the group of sailors ran to the edge of the ship, and leaned over to see what had happened. Something that looked like a whirlpool had formed nearby; one that reminded Emma of the portal they had taken the Jolly through to get to Neverland, though much smaller.
Neal was next to her at the railing, his sword drawn. Emma heard him gasp, as suddenly a massive form rose out from the dark vortex; so colossal in size, that she wondered how the ship remained intact after having collided with it.
At first glance, it appeared to be a giant serpent, but the creature's speed made it difficult for Emma to distinguish any details.
Without warning, the monster shot out of the water, its scales glimmering in the moonlight like stainless steel; and Emma's mouth dropped open, when she realized that it had not one, but several heads.
"Hydra!"
Emma readied her sword, and frantically searched for Killian amongst the chaos that had developed. A flash of gold caught her eye, and Emma felt the vice over her heart unclench slightly; as the captain's face appeared through the crowd from across the ship.
He didn't notice her at first, shouting to one of his officers; but then Killian turned toward her, and Emma saw the look of concern and fear written on his face.
One of the cannonballs must have connected with its target, as the Hydra roared suddenly, and lunged at the ship's side, showering Emma and the crew with splintered oak and sea water. In the collision, her head had connected with the mast, and she saw a flash of spots; the pain from her previous injury overwhelming her for a moment.
She took a moment to regain her wits, but he was by her side, before Emma could even get to her feet.
"Darling, are you harmed?"
Killian's hand grasped onto hers, and he pulled her up, bracing them both for the next attack. Neal ran over, his hair wet from the water and covered in shards of wood.
"You guys ok?"
She didn't get a chance to reply, and the monster was on them suddenly, enraged; its massive form looming over the ship.
Emma had fought trolls, a wraith, a pack of werewolves, and even a dragon before now. But this was something entirely different; more intimidating and ominous than any other creature she had ever faced.
She didn't take time to count, but Emma was fairly sure it had about eight or nine heads. The one in the center seemed to be the decision maker; as the others were slightly smaller and copied the movements of the leader. Its fangs had to be at least a foot long in length, and so sharp that she would bet they could slice through the mast in one bite. Its yellow eyes glowed menacingly through the darkness, and Emma heard Killian curse beside her.
A cannonball connected with the Hydra again, causing it to stagger slightly. The monster seemed to recover rather quickly, though, and lifted itself out of the water and onto the deck; slithering across the wooden surface, and causing the crew to scatter in all directions, like frightened bunnies.
Without warning, a young sailor leapt off of the main mast, and grabbed onto one of the Hydra's necks, before he sliced off a head; green liquid gushing from the wound, as the monster bellowed in pain.
There was a collective cheer from a few of the sailors, before Emma noticed the stump had already stopped bleeding; and two more heads rose out of the wound to replace it in only a few seconds.
Of course… Now she remembered the story of Hercules and the Hydra. For once, a legend had been true; and Emma was certainly not happy about it, in this case.
The victory had been short lived, as the monster seized the brave sailor by the leg with one of its new heads, and grabbed his arm with another; before it ripped the man's body completely in half. Blood gushed over the deck like an opened fire hydrant, and the smell of iron hit Emma's nose, making her stomach turn.
"We have to do something," Neal shouted over the screams, moving toward the creature. Killian pulled him back, though, and shook his head.
"You cannot allow it to strike you," the captain said, his hand still on her back. "Its breath and venom are amongst the most poisonous substances known to our land."
He leaned over Emma, as the three of them huddled together; and Killian looked over at her, their eyes meeting in wordless conversation. She half-expected him to ask her to go below deck to be safe; but it was clear by the look he gave her, that he needed her to stay.
They were in this together, as they always had been.
She nodded back at him, determined, and waved both men to surround the creature on either side, while Emma raised her sword. Her first thought was to try and create a distraction, so that the crew could attack, but Emma knew they needed more.
Magic would be the only way they would get out of this alive.
Suddenly, it occurred to her; that to prevent more heads from spawning when one was severed, they would need to cauterize the stumps with fire, as Hercules had done.
Yelling out to them to remove the heads, Emma watched as Killian, Neal, and a few other sailors used nets, harpoons, and swords to keep all of the creature's appendages occupied.
It worked almost instantly, as the Hydra's heads had been unable to focus on so many attackers at once. Neal swung his sword, cutting off the first head, and caused the beast to scream out in agony.
She didn't waste a second, a flame erupting in her hand, before Emma threw the fire at the stump with impressive accuracy. The wound turned to ash, and no other heads sprung from it this time, making her release a deep sigh of relief.
It went on like this for some time: one head severed, before Emma's blasts of fire cauterized the stumps. By the time the last head remained, the crew seemed uplifted; a couple of the men even tried to jump on the creature's back. The Hydra was nimble in its movements, however, darting away from the onslaught, and diving in to attack again; its middle head impossible to destroy.
Emma tried harder, hoping that she would be able to immobilize the monster long enough for them to finish it off. Her stomach dropped, though, when she saw the Hydra connect violently with Killian's leg; before it launched him across the other side of the deck with a sickening crunch.
It happened in a matter of seconds, and there was nothing she could do, but watch defenseless, as the Hydra slithered slowly toward the captain, who seemed too injured to get back on his feet. His eyes met hers, suddenly, and Emma was reminded of her vision with Maleficent; when Killian had accepted his fate.
"Stay back, Emma," he yelled over the thunder, his arm outstretched.
No, please…
She tried to conjure her magic, but the fear and desperation for his life made it nearly impossible for Emma to focus. Watching in horror, she and the crew seemed immobilized themselves, as the Hydra rose up over Killian, its fangs bared; ready to deliver the final blow.
"Hey!"
Turning toward the source of the noise, Emma saw Neal waving his sword frantically in the air; the man's hands over his head and determination in his eyes. The Hydra jerked around at him and hissed menacingly, before it started to move toward the other distraction at a much quicker pace, Neal egging it on.
"That's right, you son of a bitch! Come and get me!"
Emma had no time to think, so she shut her eyes to focus, her hands triggering with the familiar sensation; the sheer magnitude of what was needed to stun this monster nearly overcoming her physically.
The Hydra was on Neal in an instant, plunging its fangs into him; before the man fell to the deck below him, lifeless. The creature reared its head again, but Emma was quicker this time; as she launched her magic with all her might, immobilizing it completely.
A nearby sailor reacted quickly, and cut off the final head, before Emma stepped forward; the heat from her ball of fire nearly scorching her face, and flung it at the Hydra, cauterizing the last stump.
Emma noticed the severed head seemed to fight on; hissing at the crew like a punctured tire, while its fangs remained poised to strike. Emma yelled to the crew to bag the head, and hurl it into the sea, before she ran over to Neal in a panic.
Glancing over to see Killian rise to his feet, she checked Neal's pulse; which was at a dangerously slow pace. His face was ghostly white, and his lips were a terrifying shade of blue. Her stomach twisted, when she saw a tar-like substance seep out of the quarter-sized puncture wounds on his arm.
"It's the poison, Emma," Killian croaked, slumping down next to them. She noticed tears had formed in his eyes, before Emma turned to Neal, and placed her hands directly on the wounds. She pressed her lips tightly together and concentrated; Henry's face forming in her mind.
He can't lose his father.
The tingle of magic coursed through her, and she felt a stinging sensation in her arm. Emma looked down to see the color slowly return to Neal's face, but he didn't wake; merely groaning in displeasure.
Killian's choked laugh rang out over the deck, a mixture of jubilation and relief. The crew around them cheered, some throwing their hats in the air, and Emma caught the captain's watery eyes over Neal's limp form, a wide smile still on his face.
"Bloody amazing, Swan; as always."
It had been barely an hour since the attack, and Emma's hands were still shaking.
She had seen so many bodies and limbs; cold and frozen faces, that would never move again. While pulling the wounded from a large crater in the deck that the Hydra had caused, Emma noticed a particular set of lifeless eyes; as blue and as endless as the sea they had sailed on. An overwhelming wave of guilt rushed through her, as she recognized the face immediately. It was the young sailor from her vision; Colin McGrath. The boy had been sliced through the abdomen, and bled out before anyone could reach him.
She looked down at her hands, which had handled all those men; now crusted over with the dried blood of those who were lost- of Neal's blood.
Emma should be surprised that he had put himself at risk for Killian, but somehow, she wasn't. Neal had done his share of cowardly things, but he was a good man; and there had been a time where he was close with the pirate.
Now, Emma must tell that same pirate; the man who had saved her in every way possible, that she was to bear him their child. Between the battle with the Hydra, healing the wounded, and disposing of the dead, Emma had nearly forgotten her predicament.
Nearly.
Emma asked Killian to meet her at the helm, which she knew, may be the one place that could bring him comfort.
She leaned over the splintered wood of the railing, as a warm breeze blew across her face; the wind much calmer now that the storm had quieted. The faint rumbling of thunder echoed around her, as Emma inwardly cringed.
A decision must be made.
Killian had a right to know she was pregnant; even if Emma technically didn't have confirmation yet. He was more than likely going to be a father, and the man deserved to know it; even if they were sailing toward their ultimate end.
But when the Hydra had slithered toward his vulnerable form, she remembered her vision about Maleficent, and it had struck something deep within her. It was clear; now that Emma acknowledged her feelings for Killian, it created a level of fear that she would lose him, and therefore hindered her ability to conjure magic in a desperate situation.
Besides, if he knew Emma carried their baby, Killian would be more likely to do something foolish; like sacrifice himself without question. And he had certainly done his share of withholding information to protect her.
A war raged on, now; not just in their kingdom, but inside of Emma: pitting her sworn devotion to the man who had more than earned the truth - against her undeniable fear of losing him forever.
A pair of chapped hands cupped Emma's bare shoulders suddenly, his soft lips on her ear; and the warmth of his touch made her shiver. She leaned further back into him instantly, and felt his hot breath on her neck; slow and steady, like the waves around them.
"All will be righted, Darling."
As much as she wanted to reassure him that there was nothing else wrong; she couldn't. So Emma simply released a long sigh, gazing out into the dark sea, as Killian held her close.
They stayed that way for a moment, before Emma gently pushed him off, and kneeled over of a pail of water that sat in the corner. There was a soft disapproving sound from behind her, as she splashed the tepid water over her bloodied hands, before Emma turned around to see Killian grab the wheel. He peered into the sky above them, which was finally clear again; and despite the expression of concern that still lingered on his face, the man seemed at peace.
"You should be resting after all you have endured, lass."
Despite the satisfaction of knowing how much he cared, Emma rolled her eyes at him and smiled, scrubbing the bristly brush over her palms and fingers with more force than was probably necessary.
"You should be doing inventory of your ship. I know she took heavy losses," she said, before Emma quietly hissed in pain. Her hands were raw from scrubbing, and the now-crimson-colored sea water did more harm than good; its saltiness stinging her already irritated skin.
Perhaps the blood would never come off.
Emma turned to gauge his reaction, noticing that Killian's usual playfulness had gone; and she caught a glimpse of the broken man from their night in his cabin.
"I'm sorry about your crew," she said gently.
A hint of despair flashed across his face that Emma couldn't miss, before the captain nodded slowly, his black hair ruffled by the breeze.
"Aye, they were good men; every one of them," he said in a near whisper. She watched Killian pull out his flask, and glance around to see if anyone could see him, before he took a quick swig.
He looked different to her somehow; now that Emma knew he would be the father of her child, and she couldn't help but recognize how much this would change things between them.
Everything would change.
She wiped her hands on her trousers, before Emma felt something in her pocket: the communicator sea shell that Regina had made. They had all agreed they should be inanimate objects that represented their surroundings, so not to be obvious to an enemy if it was dropped.
Emma put the shell back into her pocket, and came to stand next to him at the helm. Killian offered her the flask, and she reached out to take it, but jerked back quickly, shaking her head. He gave her a poignant look, as if to read her mind; and for a moment, Emma's heart stopped for fear that Killian had figured out her secret.
But instead, the captain simply craned his neck up toward the sky, and took another sip of rum. "Ah, our patron saints are with us, I see," he mused, his hands caressing the wheel like a tender lover.
She glanced at the blue-violet flame glowing around the sharpest point of the mast's spar. Emma wasn't surprised at the phenomenon, knowing full well the story behind it, as he spoke to her quietly.
"We sailors call that –"
"St. Elmo's Fire," she cut him off in breathy words, as Emma stared up at the light, transfixed.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his look of surprise, before he smiled, tucking his flask back into the inner pocket of his officer's jacket.
"Indeed, luv," Killian mused, his eyes set on the bluish glow that hissed above them; much like the aggravated serpent they just destroyed. "Those brothers must have prayed like bloody mad to Poseidon, in order to get us out of that mess fairly intact."
Emma remembered Killlian's story of the two brothers; on the search for the Golden Fleece from one of her visions. She inwardly asked herself whether the rest of her life would be like this: constantly filled with replicated moments.
Although Emma should have known he was coming, the lieutenant's approach caught her by surprise; his young, exuberant voice bringing the deck to life. "Captain, we have located the majority of our ammunition and rations, but the cargo hold took in a great deal of water. Most of the main compartment was destroyed when…"
She slowly backpedalled away from the conversation, doing her best to be discrete. Not only did Emma want nothing to do with anymore bad news, she had her own worries to think of. Perhaps she would check on Neal; who was recovering in bed, and leave the baby conversation to later- when she and Killian were in his quarters alone.
"Emma-"
His voice made her turn, his expression questioning her departure. She waved him off; rolling her eyes, to give the impression that all was fine.
Suddenly, there was blinding pain in her head; followed by a flash of white over her field of vision, before Emma fell to her knees. She felt an overwhelming tug at her lids, and her sight began to blur for no logical reason.
As Killian's murmured shout reached her ears, she felt his gentle grip on her arm, and Emma fell forward, her still-irritated palms hitting the unyielding deck.
His yells slowly grew silent, until Emma heard only the rapid beating of her own heart, and the sound of panting; the fear nearly overwhelming her. Barely unable to see at all, it was as if someone had smeared petroleum jelly in her eyes.
She could do nothing but wait for the worst, her senses completely useless to her now.
Her sight did return; except when Emma opened her eyes, she was no longer on the deck of the Jolly Roger, nor was Killian by her side.
The leaves on the trees that surrounded them rustled incessantly above their heads, as the militia trudged along the muddy, forest path.
She felt unsteady; almost as if slightly off balance, or uncomfortable in some way that Emma couldn't quite pinpoint. She tried to take in a deep breath, in hopes of jarring herself awake again, but Emma was shocked to find that she had no control of her actions.
"Are you alright, Sweetheart?"
For a moment, her heart lifted, as his accent had sounded so much like Killian's.
But the brief feeling turned to shock, as Robin was next to her in seconds, his gloved hands on either sides of her face. Emma had no time to question his motive, before the man moved his face in close, and captured her lips with his own.
Warm, and slightly softer than Killian's due to the length of his beard; Emma had no choice but to allow the man to kiss her a moment longer, still incapable of controlling her actions.
Robin finally slowed to a halt, and stepped back; his expression inquisitive, though he did not press the issue. He swung his bow over his shoulder, as Emma caught a whiff of earth and sweat. She's pretty sure her cheeks were flushed, as Robin merely gave her a wink, and headed to the front of the war party.
None of her visions or dreams had felt quite like this before, and Emma inwardly wished she could forget this one; a mixture of guilt and utter bafflement coursing through her veins.
"You two are perfect for one another."
Mary Margaret came to stand beside her, but Emma noticed that her mother kept a slight distance between them that she wasn't normally used to.
"Excuse me?"
Emma felt a twinge of uneasiness start to settle in; as she realized that her voice did not sound like her own.
She knew that voice…
Mary Margaret just smiled knowingly, and patted her shoulder with a gloved hand; her bow grasped tightly in the other. The twigs crunched beneath their boots, as both women continued to walk along the trail.
"Don't be so reserved, Regina," Mary Margaret teased, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "I know true love when I see it."
Regina?
Did her mother just call her Regina?!
The group came to a halt only a few feet from the river, and Emma was relieved when she felt her body move toward the water's edge. Peaking over the riverbed, she would have gasped if it were possible to; for instead of seeing her own reflection, Emma saw Regina's face staring back at her.
The queen's gloved hand dipped a small cloth into the stream, and brought it to her neck. Emma felt the coolness of the water soothe her skin, which was now flushed from all the trekking.
"I don't know how you lived like this for so long," Emma heard Regina mumble to Mary Margaret.
Her mother snickered, and glanced over at the queen, as she filled both of their canteens. "It's not like you gave me much choice in the matter."
She knew that Regina and Mary Margaret were together in Robin's militia, and that the group had headed toward Phillip and Aurora's castle where the witches were camped.
Was this just another strange dream or, perhaps actual events that were to come?
Unlike her other visions, though, Emma now had absolutely no control over her actions or words. It was literally like watching one of those films where someone had worn a helmet camera; only she could physically feel everything the queen could.
What the hell is going on?
She heard Mary Margaret address Robin; and when Regina turned toward him, Emma could see the worried expression he wore. Everyone had suddenly grown quiet, and drew their weapons, as Robin signaled a few of his militiamen to climb into the trees as look-outs.
"It may be an ambush," he whispered, coming to kneel next to them. Emma felt him gently pull Regina down behind a cluster of shrubs, where they waited a moment.
Then, Emma felt her hands grow hot, and an invisible wave rippled through the air, as Regina conjured her magic over the group.
"What did you just do?" Mary Margaret looked at her with curiosity in her tone; and Emma noticed that she appeared more impressed, than concerned.
"Protection spell," Emma heard Regina say. "If there is a force out there; they won't be able to get through."
"Unless of course, that force is me."
One of Robin's men turned to source of the raspy voice, raising his bow; and shot into the dense, dark forest around them. The arrow flew through the brush, but stopped suddenly, before it changed direction, and headed right back toward them: directly at Mary Margaret.
Her first reaction was to yell out to her mother, but Emma knew it wasn't possible; and all she could do was watch helplessly, as the arrow whizzed toward its target.
Suddenly, Regina lurched forward, pushing Mary Margaret aside, as she felt a sharp sting on the queen's left arm. Emma couldn't cry out, but the arrow had sliced deep enough to elicit a yelp of pain from her.
"Regina!"
Mary Margaret had scrambled to her feet; and hunched over the injured woman with a look of desperation. Her mother tore a scrap of her tunic off, and wrapped Regina's forearm, before they heard a group of merry men yell out from across the clearing.
"We're here for her royal majesty," Zelena announced sarcastically, coming out from the cover of darkness holding The Black Wand; her monkey minions close in tow.
She saw Mary Margaret stiffen beside of her, and stand up with a determined expression. Emma wasn't sure how Regina felt in that moment, but a pang of desperation and terror suddenly ripped through her, when she knew they were helpless to save her mother.
"Get on with it, Zelena, and take me then," Mary Margaret said, her jaw set. "Just don't hurt anyone else."
Zelena glided over to them, reminding Emma of the wraith in her movements; fluid and unnerving. The witch sneered at them both, as Emma felt Regina reach into her pocket, and grip the communicator in her hand, activating its magic.
"Always the hero," the witch drawled sarcastically, and her nose scrunched up at Mary Margaret like she had smelled something rancid on her.
"But I'm not interested in you, fool," Zelena continued, before she turned to Regina with her eyebrows raised. "I'm here for the true ruler of this kingdom…"
Emma felt something wrap tightly around Regina's arms and chest, the grip strong enough to leave bruises and bring her to her knees; before she was yanked backwards toward Zelena, whose fiendish grin was highlighted in the moonlight.
"…at least for another few hours, anyway."
Emma watched the horrified expression on Mary Margaret's face, and she reached out for Regina, but was shoved roughly to the ground by Zelena's magic. Somewhere behind them, she heard Robin's enraged shouts and pained grunts, as the man fought tirelessly against the monkey soldiers.
"Ta ta for now," the witch croaked, and she waved her hand to signal their departure. There was another sharp pull around her abdomen, and Emma felt Regina drop the communicator on the ground, before Zelena hauled the queen's incapacitated form away from the clearing.
Emma looked up into the witch's eyes, which were a deep shade of blue, but clouded with the endless darkness of a lost soul; and she heard the malicious words whispered into the queen's ear.
"It's judgment day, Your Highness."
The blackness overcame her sight for a moment, but she blinked her eyes to clear it; and suddenly, Emma realized that she had regained control of her movements once again. The fog slowly lifted, and she stared up into the hazy faces of the two men who hovered over her.
Killian spoke first, as she recognized his lieutenant watching warily from a few feet away. "Emma? Emma, please say something," he pleaded, his facial features wracked with concern.
She moved to get up, but Killian forced her to remain still, her head resting underneath his left arm. Emma felt his hand cup her face, and the warmth was enough to rejuvenate her senses.
"Regina," she said quietly, relieved to hear her own voice.
Suddenly, she knew they had to act quickly, and Emma reached into the pocket of her trousers and pulled out the sea shell communicator.
"Regina? What about Regina, Darling?"
Killian allowed her to sit up, though his left hand rested across her upper back for support. She popped open the shell; its smooth surface brushing over her fingers, which were still unsteady from her recent ordeal.
"We have to warn them," Emma mumbled, using her magic to activate the communicator. She felt the hot beads of sweat that had formed on her forehead, roll down the sides of her face; and ignored the painful twinge in her arm.
Killian let out a questionable sound beside her, but her focus was on the shell, which lit up with the image of Mary Margaret; much like the mirror had with Henry in Neverland. Emma frowned in confusion, expecting to see Regina's face; but before she could speak, Mary Margaret's shaky voice came through the communicator.
"Emma, thank goodness. You have to get a message to Gold, David, and the others," she said, her words laced with panic.
There was a brief moment of silence, as Emma inwardly cringed at what she knew was coming; and her heart seemed to stop its rhythm, as she awaited confirmation of her suspicions.
"Zelena just attacked our militia herself," Mary Margaret cried, pulling the shell closer to her face. "Emma, they have Regina."
A/N: Another long one; thanks for hanging in there! Go on and hit that button below and leave a comment, ok?