A/N: You all continue to amaze me with the support and wonderful encouragement. Thank you for the follows, favorites, and reviews: and to those of you who joined late, thank you for giving this story a chance despite its oh-so-very-lengthiness. Speaking of lengthiness... this is the longest chapter yet, so brace yourselves haha.
Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time or its characters.
There's a humming in the restless summer air
And we're slipping off the course that we prepared
But in all chaos, there is calculation
We gladiate but I guess we're really fighting ourselves
Roughing up our minds so we're ready when the kill time comes
"The child will be ours," Maleficent hissed; her words slicing through Emma like shards of glass.
Before either of them could react, there was a bright flash, and Killian was thrown backward violently. He clung on to Emma's wrist like a lifeline, as a strong force pulled at the other end, dragging both of them closer to the flames.
"You'll be pulled into the inferno," he yelled breathlessly, his pleading expression asking her to do what she simply could not.
"Killian, please; I can't lose you."
His face showed neither fear, nor defeat, but one of devotion and acceptance; and in that moment, she knew what must be done.
"Emma, let go."
She jerked upward and awake from her cot, as a layer of sweat covered her entire body; and Emma winced, before she looked down at the bandage on her left arm. Swallowing hard, Emma fought back the urge to throw up; as she understood the feeling now to be morning sickness, but guessed it had more to do with her nerves in this case.
A pleasant breeze blew through the gaps of the tent that David had set up for her at their campsite outside of the witches' fortress. Despite the ventilation, however, the area provided no light; as the interior was as dark and gloomy as the visions that plagued her.
After they realized that her episode on the deck of the ship had been more than just a premonition; but an actual, present-time look at Regina's capture, Killian had ordered for the Jolly Roger to turn around and head for land.
The arrow puncture that had pierced Regina's skin, had actually left the same wound on Emma's arm; which solidified any doubt that the two of them were magically connected somehow.
All of the allied forces regrouped outside of the witches' castle and camped overnight, deciding what needed to be done now that Regina's magic was useless to their plan. Prince Eric and Ariel would still hold the Navy's position at the shoreline in case their forces attempted to retreat; but Emma knew their success really came down to one thing: magic.
Emma or Maleficent (or both of them) would be dead by the day's end.
But that didn't mean that Killian needed to die too.
She flicked her hand absentmindedly; and two of the candles on a nearby side table ignited, providing just enough light for her to find her belongings.
Taking a deep breath, the scent of mold and time filling her up, Emma stared at the tent's canvas, and tried to imagine the uncountable years it had witnessed harsh storms and heavy bloodshed.
The main army had already encountered enemies along the way, since the surrounding area hadn't been properly cleared. With the exception of Regina, Robin's militia had survived intact, with only a few minor injuries; but their inability to take out the witches' forces in the center, had caused heavy losses for David's troops.
There had been hundreds of casualties to the allies by various creatures that the witches had created for their purposes: trolls, ogres, wolves, and dozens of chimeras (which Emma was unfortunately familiar with; when she was forced to eat one during her first time in the Enchanted Forest.)
Without magic, many brave men and women were killed for the sake of their cause: her cause.
Emma grimaced, as her heart sank at the thought. One life, in particular, had weighed heavily on her conscious since they had found out last night.
Aurora's pregnancy had somehow reached Phillip during the army's battle on the field. The brave prince had charged ahead to face Maleficent alone, but was cut down by a yaoguai's fiery breath, and died later from the severity of his burns before Whale could heal him.
Emma threw her legs over the cot, her feet scraping against the rough threads from the carpet below. She placed both elbows on her knees; her chin propped onto her palms, and heard the screech of a blade being sharpened outside the tent, as her eyes watered with a rising anger.
Much good a sharp sword will do any of them.
If she had just convinced Aurora to take Phillip with her to the cottage, the princess might still have her husband: the father of her child. If Emma had seen the vision of Regina being captured ahead of time (like she should have,) perhaps they wouldn't be in this mess.
It seemed even the powers that she did possess, were failing her now.
"Ugh," her voice croaked out into the empty tent, as her face fell into open palms. "What do I have to do?"
"The same thing you always have," said a melodic voice from the entrance of the tent; and Emma jerked her head to see the Blue Fairy giving her a small, determined smile. "Whatever needs to be done."
Surprised to see that she had opted to appear in her human form; Emma considered whether Blue had done this to make her feel more comfortable.
The fairy made her way over to the cot opposite of hers; the same one on which Killian had lain for hours to help her fall asleep the night before.
"Thanks for meeting with me," Emma murmured, her eyes now set on the boots that she tugged over her feet.
Blue didn't respond, but placed her hands in her lap, and waited. Emma hadn't told the fairy why she asked for an audience with her, and now that they were alone together, she felt her resolve falter slightly.
"Well," Emma began quietly, forcing her eyes up to meet Blue's, "I- uh… asked you here to see whether you can help make sense of the changes in my magic."
Despite the dimly-lit surroundings, Emma noticed that Blue appeared taken aback, raising her eyebrows high; and she was certain that the fairy had not anticipated this in the least.
Blue gave her a long appraisal, before pursing her lips. "I must confess," she said quietly, a lock of brown hair falling from her messy bun. "I assumed you had already figured that out for yourself."
There was no stopping her mouth from dropping open, or her hand moving subconsciously to her abdomen; and Emma knew immediately that she had been caught.
Of course, the Blue Fairy would know her secret; it was common knowledge that their kind were always so insightful, and had the ability to see things that others simply overlooked.
Still, she didn't completely trust Gold, so Emma thought it would better to go to a source of light magic in this instance.
"I recently found out myself... Though until just now, I wasn't one hundred percent certain."
Blue smiled brightly at her; the fairy's round eyes glistening with a brief, welcomed moment of mirth. "Yes, Emma. Your instincts are correct."
A small beam of light crept through the flap of the tent; and Emma let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding.
Although a majority of her was disappointed to find that she had been right about the pregnancy; a very small part of Emma had actually been relieved with the fairy's confirmation regarding the matter.
At least now she was sure.
Nevertheless, it seemed that since Emma had figured out she carried a baby inside of her; something had changed in her magic. It could simply be that her emotions (and hormones) had messed with her ability to focus; and that it caused a manifestation in her powers.
Or maybe it was much more than that.
Blue cleared her throat, and lifted Emma from her inner dialogue. The fairy seemed to understand, and reached out to graze her hand softly over Emma's bare arm; now clean of dirt and blood from the ship's attack.
"What really troubles you, my dear?"
Seriously?
This fairy is insightful enough to act as a human sonogram, but she couldn't understand why Emma was afraid to have a child while a war raged on around them?
She did her best not to crunch her face in frustration, and darted her tongue out to wet her parched lips, before Emma replied.
"While on the deck of the Jolly Roger, I had a vision…not of the future, but of the present."
Flinching, she realized how ridiculous it sounded aloud, but Blue merely listened intently; the candlelight creating odd shadows on her face. Emma knew that fairies had some level of foresight that came with their power, but she didn't quite understand the extent to which they could use it.
"I was actually able to see Regina's abduction through her eyes; like I was the one being captured."
This statement hadn't seemed to surprise the fairy in the least; which only worsened Emma's uneasiness. This confirmed that her vision about the witches plan had been accurate; and that her baby was magical in some way.
Then suddenly, Emma started to ramble.
"Before we came back from Narnia, I had never been able to heal wounds before, but I helped Killian with the cut on his cheek a few days afterward. Then yesterday, I stopped the poison from killing Neal. And when I was on top of the tower with Regina, I was able to actually pull lightening down from the skies before our magic connected… I mean, it was like… Oh, and don't even get me started on the horse talking thing-"
Blue's hand was out in front of them both, gently cutting off Emma's rant; and the sounds of groaning soldiers who had been injured reverberated over the tent, as they were carried back from the battlefield.
"You said your magic connected with Regina's?"
Emma was surprised at the question, but nodded silently, her mouth slightly agape.
The fairy looked away toward the entrance of the tent, staring silently out into the darkness of the area for a minute, as if to solve a Calculus equation; before she turned back to Emma again.
"It is clear that this pregnancy has enhanced your abilities, and that you now have a very powerful link to the queen," she said, a tone of wonder in her voice.
As much as Emma appreciated Blue coming to speak to her, the fairy hadn't said anything that Emma hadn't already suspected. What was needed more than anything, was a way to understand her new powers, their limitations, and how to control them.
Oh, and figuring this out before she faced the witches would be a huge plus.
Emma considered the pros and cons of threatening a fairy to pleading with one, before Blue suddenly stood up, and looked down at her.
"I suggest you use these powers to your advantage," she said rather matter-of-factly.
There was the familiar heat in her palms, as Emma felt her patience growing thinner by the second. She stood up to meet the fairy face to face; the stuffiness of the tent now more recognizable than ever.
"Yes, but I-"
"You must have faith," Blue said with a tone of finality, before she moved toward the tent's exit, her long, blue cloak dragging behind her.
Emma's heart both pounded against and deflated within her chest, like she had sprinted up a flight up steps, only to realize it had been a dead end.
There was so much more she needed to know.
"I foresaw Maleficent threatening my baby."
The words had come out before Emma could stop them, her voice trembling. This caused the fairy to turn around; her brow furrowed in question. Telling someone this had been much harder than Emma had anticipated; and her breath quickened. Saying the words aloud, somehow gave them more validity.
"And in my vision… Killian sacrificed himself to save my life and the life of our unborn child's," Emma explained, her voice drenched with desperation, as she took another step toward the fairy. "Help me…"
Blue met Emma's teary eyes with a determined gaze, and the grave expression on her face seemed almost foreign; as Emma always knew the fairy/nun to be so much like Mary Margaret: cheery and optimistic.
She didn't move from her position, halfway out of the tent's flap, but the fairy's voice was steady when she spoke again. "Foresight isn't always a gift. You must not let these visions dictate your future actions…"
Emma saw Blue step out of the flap, but heard her final words resonate around the small tent like a death sentence being read aloud in an empty courtroom.
"…or others will suffer in ways you cannot imagine."
Delicate in every way but one (the swordplay)
God knows we like archaic kinds of fun (the old way)
Chance is the only game I play with, baby
We let our battles choose us
Emma stepped out of the recovery tent and enjoyed the relief of a refreshing, though rather warm, breeze that cooled her clammy skin.
She had spent the last half hour assisting the fairies and Dr. Whale with Neal's recovery. While it was clear that her magic on the Jolly Roger had saved his life, Henry's father would never be the same again.
Neal was still in and out of consciousness; as the healing spell that the Blue Fairy had put on him appeared to alleviate the side effects from the Hydra's poison that still lingered in his system. But Whale seemed to think that Neal would need to relearn a lot of his motor functions, and that his memory may not be returned to him completely intact.
Sweeping a lock of hair that blew across her face, Emma scrunched her nose, as the odor of roasted meat that the army's cook had made for lunch hit her suddenly. Somehow, Emma had found a way to force down a small breakfast a few hours ago, but it was clear that she would have to get used to the nausea that came from almost every potent smell.
She kneeled next to the cot of an unconscious soldier, noticing that the cloth holding what was left of his arm together was completely soaked through. Emma watched his face for any indication of sensation, before she swept her hand over the wound, feeling the tingly sensation that generally came with her power; and could tell by the bandage that the gashes had closed over.
Less than twenty four hours ago, she had felt so much more confident, standing on the docks with her family and friends; with all of those people who were ready to fight for what they loved most.
But now, they were one magical ally down, with casualties piling up. For all they knew, Gold was nowhere near getting those other two rings; since he had disappeared shortly after the battle had started, mumbling something to David about having a change of plan.
After not being able to conjure her magic to save Killian from the Hydra, Emma wasn't sure that her magic was stable or powerful enough to get the Black Wand from Maleficent or Zelena.
One of Pocohontas' fellow woman warriors struggled to get off of one of the cots outside of the recovery unit, and Emma hurried over to her side, pulling the woman up from under her arm. She saw the Indian warrior give her a tight smile that didn't reach her eyes, and glanced down.
She had lost her right foot in battle; and as the two walked in silence toward the rations tent, Emma couldn't help but wonder whether she would ever walk again without help.
As the smell of sweat and rotting flesh from the still untreated injured reached them, Emma's mind reeled with more questions.
Her visions had made it seem like the mermaids had attacked them on the Jolly Roger yesterday; rather than assisted them. Although Gold had warned her that the images weren't always what they seemed, she had made the wrong assumption; and it nearly cost them their lives.
Blue was right when she said that it wasn't wise for Emma to try and manipulate the future based on her foresight, but that didn't mean there wouldn't be guilt that came from her indecision, either.
After seeing to it that the warrior was properly fed, Emma walked out of the humid tent, and looked out toward the battle field. The last of the wounded were still coming in, before the army had to regroup for their attack at sundown. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mulan making her way over; approaching slowly, like she was unsure of what to do or say.
Stepping away from the injured soldiers, Emma went over to the main station to pull fresh water. She poured herself a cup, and felt the cold liquid slide down her throat, rejuvenating her senses; before she handed a cup to Mulan, who was covered in dirt and dried blood, as the warrior finally reached her side.
"Thanks," Mulan said quietly, before a moment of awkward silence followed. The sound of happy birds chirping in the forest trees seemed so out of place, as if to mock the somber circumstances around them.
"I'm sorry about Phillip," Emma said quietly, unsure of how to express her grief and guilt any other way. "I know the two of you were close."
Mulan's expression fell, and she pulled her head down to the muddy ground, as if searching for the proper words. Emma nearly opened her mouth to change the subject, before the other woman replied.
"It was a good death… worthy of the bravery and sacrifice that he stood for," she said quietly, gazing out toward the battlefield, as her long, dark hair blew in the wind.
Emma could tell by the frown on her face, that she was unwilling to discuss the subject any further, and Emma was inwardly grateful for that.
After a moment, Mulan unbuckled her belt, pulling her sword and its scabbard from her side. "Here," she said, holding her sword out for Emma to take. "You'll need every advantage you can get to defeat those witches."
She stared down at the sword, knowing that it was forged into the strongest blade in all of the realms; since Mulan had let Mary Margaret use it when they defeated Cora and found their way back to Storybrooke. Emma felt guilty taking her friend's weapon, but knew that the warrior must have great faith in her, to make such a gesture. She took the hilt in her hand, surprised by the sword's lightness in weight, and met the other woman's stare directly.
"Thank you for what you've done for me and my family, Mulan," she said firmly. "Phillip's sacrifice won't be in vain. I'll try not to let you all down."
The warrior gave her a rare smile, bowing her head slightly in respect.
"You never have before, Emma. Just be sure to remember your training," Mulan said with an unwavering tone; before she turned, and walked toward the other men and women ready to fight for their cause.
Wide awake in bed, words in my brain,
"Secretly you love this do you even wanna go free?"
Let me in the ring, I'll show you what that big word
means
By the time the sun fell over the horizon, a melting pot of oranges, pinks, purples, and reds; David and his main army had begun their attack on the witches' first defenses outside of the castle.
Emma sat on the highest hilltop from their camp, her shell communicator awaiting the signal that one of the sisters had left the castle, as she watched the battle rage on below her. Row after row of soldiers, horses, and various forms of artillery moved toward the castle, like a colony of ants marching to their certain destruction; and it made Emma feel a bit anxious to just sit by and watch from afar.
Cannons fired from all directions, while the fairies that had been chosen to fight used their magic to hold back the flaming arsenal of the evil forces; various colors exploding into a sight that she couldn't help but find magnificent.
Emma felt him come up behind her before he even spoke, his warm hands shielding her bare shoulders against the cool breeze. Since the sun had fallen, the warmth of the air had dropped slightly; and it finally felt somewhat closer to appropriate temperature for late January.
Killian's strong arms wrapped around her, his muscles tense, as if he could feel the battle raging on inside of her. He leaned in, placing his wet lips to her neck; making Emma close her eyes and enjoy the simplicity of that moment- if only for a moment.
She knew there was no chance of her convincing him not to accompany her inside the castle- he was as stubborn as Emma was, after all. Soon, David's army would break through the first line of defense, and one of those hags would come out to utilize their magic to try and turn the tide.
Emma was almost certain it would be Zelena, since Maleficent had been the one in her vision; but she wasn't sure whether to trust that.
They needed more information on the sisters' plan if they stood any chance.
Something wretched at her heart, and she saw the image of Killian's face, as he let go of her hand, and fell into the hungry flames. The thought of telling him about the baby (with what she knew could come from that decision) tore through her very soul; and scared Emma more than she ever thought a confession ever could.
But they couldn't afford to be dishonest with each other anymore.
Despite the noise from the early moments of battle, the quiet forest around them at twilight acted as an empty amphitheater; and his voice finally broke the silence, like the booming of the cannons in the far distance.
"How is Neal faring?"
Emma had far too much on her mind to let herself think anymore about Neal, but she knew Killian truly cared about his friend's wellbeing. So she gently pushed away from him, and sat down on the hard ground underneath; the grass tickling her palms, as Emma propped herself up with both arms.
"He'll be ok. There will be a long recovery ahead for him, though," she said uneasily, glancing over to see him grimace. "Whale thinks he'll have some scarring on his arm, too."
Emma knew, that like her, Killian was the type to take responsibility for things that were simply out of his control; and that Neal's injury was no exception.
"Add it to the collection of scars he already has, I suppose," he replied, sitting down next to her and gazing out at the sun, as it disappeared over the horizon.
Before she could respond, the man let out a solemn laugh, the raspy sound mixing with the rustling of branches from the large tree that hovered over them. "Wouldn't be the first one I've inflicted on him…"
Emma didn't look over, but could feel the pain he projected in those words. Despite their troubled past, Neal had risked his life to save his friend- just as Killian would have done for either one of them; but that didn't mean it pained him any less.
Before this war was over, there was sure to be more devastation and casualties; creating scars which Emma was certain that she and Killian would carry with them forever.
After a long minute of silence, he spoke again; allowing her to put off the pregnancy conversation a while longer.
"Those could almost be fireworks," Killian said gently, his rough hand resting gently against the smooth skin on the small of her back, as they both stared out at the horizon; a canvas of color, like one of the paintings that hung in the Great Hall in Narnia.
"Henry would certainly enjoy this view; though I'm relieved he isn't here to see such carnage."
His voice had been so low, but there was such adoration and protection in his tone, that Emma's eyes instantly brimmed with tears.
She didn't need to use her superpower to know how much Killian cared about Henry; for all of her family, for that matter. The man had proven it, time and again, that he would do everything in his control to keep all of them safe. No matter what the cost, his dedication had never faltered, and he had been with Emma through all of her challenges; every step of the way.
And now, she didn't just assume it; she knew that Killian would always be there.
"I love you."
Emma had turned to him, the words flowing from her lips, like a sigh or a breath that she had held for so long.
The seconds that followed weren't filled with fear or regret, as she thought they would have been. Finally telling Killian how she felt hadn't been like a burden, or a difficult task she had to overcome.
It had felt as natural to Emma, as breathing.
Turning toward her slowly, his expression fashioned from serious, into one of pure revelation and relief. Placing a hand on the back of her neck, a tear forming in his eye, he opened his mouth to reply; but Emma placed a finger on his warm lips, cutting him off.
"I'm sorry, Killian. I should have said it a long time ago," she explained, shaking her head, her words a bit louder this time. "But like you, I was afraid to lose a good thing. I was afraid that I would ruin us."
She watched his heart break and rebuild itself in the same moment, as he let the tear slip down his cheek. Emma leaned forward, and kissed it away, the saltiness exemplifying the bitter sweetness of the moment.
"And I'm still afraid," Emma said, her voice quivering now, as she grasped his warm hands with her own. "I'm afraid my magic isn't powerful enough, I'm afraid that we won't succeed, and that our family and friends will suffer at the hands of my failure."
Killian pulled Emma into him, their foreheads touching, in what had become his signature gesture that meant he was there for her; completely open and ready to bear the burdens she carried.
"Most of all… I was afraid of letting something happen to one or both of us, before I told you how much you mean to me," she cried, her own tears flowing openly now.
Killian pulled her into an embrace, the cannons booming around them like an angry, beautiful serenade. She knew that he felt the same; he had done everything to show her the meaning of the "love" without needing to actually utter it.
And until now, she had done everything to avoid showing him the same.
They stayed like that for a few minutes while Emma silently cried into him; as she had never let herself do before with anyone. All of the fears, regret, and self doubt that Emma had carried with her for a lifetime, spilled out and onto the man she loved.
Her true love.
When he finally pulled away, she could see the determination on his features, and Emma understood that Killian was neither angry, nor judgmental; but that a question lingered there that he wanted answered.
He knew that she still held back something.
"Emma-"
She put her hand up gently to stop him, giving Killian a small smile. Emma knew that he would ask if there was something wrong, and she would be unable to lie.
"I've been thinking," Emma said slowly, glancing back over to the horizon, and wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I need to find out what's going on with Regina…"
It was his turn to interrupt her, this time, as Killian suddenly stood up.
"Bloody hell, Emma," he said, his tone stern. "You know what happened last time… you felt everything that she had, and ended up with an arrow wound on your arm. Imagine what they're doing to her now!"
Emma felt the warm tingling in her fingertips as she stood up, and couldn't help but let the frustration that ebbed on her words.
"What other choice do I have, Killian? We need any kind of information that will help us, and Regina could be in danger. She saved Mary Margaret's life…"
Killian's face fell at that statement, his expression softening, before he clasped Emma's hand in his softly, rubbing circles in her palm with his rough thumb. She felt the anger ebb away slowly, and realized that he only wanted to protect her, the way she did him.
"Darling, we don't even know whether you can do it on command," he said gently, meeting her gaze. "All of your other visions had come and gone unexpectedly."
She took a deep breath, the gunpowder from the cannons burning her nose, and Emma lowered her voice again.
"I have to try."
Emma knew that he was right, and that this was both dangerous and imprudent; but telling by the way Killian's expression fell, she was about to get her way.
Taking a deep breath, she watched the father of her unborn child take a step back, concern etched on his features, before Emma closed her eyes and focused inward.
It happened much quicker than she had thought.
The blackness grew around her eyesight, and she braced herself for anything. Emma knew that Regina's captors were out for vengeance, and that her connection with the queen didn't just mean that she would see what was happening, but would feel it too.
Emma opened her eyes to something she neither understood, nor had expected.
It was like she was back in Narnia again; the area completely covered in snow and ice, like it had been outside of the waterfall.
Apparently they had taken Regina to the roof of their castle, as Emma noticed the same cannon fire and magical sparks from the battle in the distance.
And it was cold.
Like lying-inside-of-a-walk-in-freezer-in-a-bikini cold.
Although the queen's wrists were bound in heavy shackles, the metal biting into her flesh; she could barely feel Regina's hands and feet.
It frustrated Emma, already, to have no control of her actions, and to endure the numbness; it was like the feeling one gets when their limbs fall asleep, and they are incapable of sensation or movement right away.
She could see that the floor beneath her (beneath Regina) was stone, much like the ones from their own castle, except that they were covered in a layer of ice. It reminded Emma of the cobblestone path near her and Henry's apartment in New York last January; and how her son had insisted on laying out rock salt so that they wouldn't slip.
Regina pulled against the chains holding her captive; the loud clang ringing over the area like a scream from a desperate prisoner. It pulled the attention of two dark figures, who stood about fifteen yards away, at the opposite side of the rooftop; and Emma inwardly gasped.
Zelena was in her usual attire of a black corset and tights, but she had a large gash on her arm, which Emma assumed was from an attempt Regina may have made to escape. The wound was large enough, about 6 or 8 inches long, that it must have caused the witch a significant level of pain.
Her sister, though, looked nowhere close to the Maleficent that Emma had seen back in Storybrooke.
Unlike before, when her hair had been blonde and curly, it now fell limp around her shoulders, like dead vines on a neglected garden fence. Her skin was still a pale green, but it seemed so translucent now, that Emma could nearly see her skeleton beneath; Maleficent's bony frame making her appear weak, for the first time.
Zelena snapped her head over toward Regina, flicking her wrist, before the chains holding the queen wrapped around her midsection like a metal anaconda; crushing her ribs inward toward her lungs.
Regina struggled to breathe, the magic doing its work, before Emma heard Regina's voice for the first time.
"You're looking a little worse for wear, Maleficent," she choked.
It was clear that Maleficent's health was deteriorating, and that whatever they had planned would more than likely regenerate her in some way.
As if she had read Emma's mind, the queen added another snarky comment. "You must need those rings more than I had anticipated."
Zelena charged over toward Regina; obviously incensed at the comment, as her auburn locks flew wildly in the wind like a corny shampoo commercial.
"We already have what we want," the witch snarled at her, before she grabbed the queen's cloak and yanked her forward only inches away from her face. Zelena's hot breath seared against the surface of the Regina's frigid skin, and Emma was sure she smelled traces of blood.
"As soon as he gets here-"
"Enough, Zelena," Maleficent rasped, gasping to catch her breath as she spoke; her voice much different than the melodic one back in Storybrooke. "Vengeance will come soon, but now we must move to the next phase."
The witch gave Regina one last scathing look, before she swept around, and walked back toward her sister; the long cape swishing the snow around her like a dense fog. Maleficent held out her bony hand to Zelena, and the two walked over toward a cauldron that boiled in the corner.
"Did you bring it like I told you?"
For a moment, Emma thought Zelena was going to give her sister a scornful remark, but she merely opened her hand; before a puff a green smoke revealed an emerald cloth draped over a relatively small object that fit in her palm.
Maleficent's eyes widened within her sunken sockets, and she reached into her corset to pull out something. Even in the dark of night, the detail of the object was recognizable: The Black Wand.
Emma never wished to have control of her actions more than she did at that very moment.
Zelena left the covered item on a nearby ledge, and took a step back from it like it was about to explode. Glancing over at Maleficent, the witch placed both hands on her hips and quirked an eyebrow.
"Are you quite certain about this, sister? Turning this rooftop into an icebox seemed a bit unnecessary."
Maleficent's gaunt face crinkled with frustration and what appeared to be mild disgust, before she thrust the wand into Zelena's hand.
"Yes, of course," her voice rasped, the warmth of her breath clouding from the icy temperature around them. "Now open it, as we planned."
Suddenly, Emma felt a shiver run down Regina's spine, and she knew that the queen was as nervous as she was. Whatever this object was, it had given even Zelena pause.
This can't be good.
The witch flicked her free hand, and the cloth flew off of the object; which appeared to be a small box. Its dark wood gleamed under the moonlight, and she heard Regina's gasp over the bubbling of the cauldron, before Emma realised she had seen this item before.
Pandora's Box.
She racked her brain, struggling to remember what exactly Gold had done with it after they let Pan (or Henry) escape from it back in Storybrooke. Emma had been certain that Gold would have destroyed it, or at least hid it somewhere safe.
Apparently not.
Without wasting another second, Zelena swished her hand at the box, which opened with a click.
Emma wasn't sure what she had expected, but this most certainly hadn't been it.
The flames that shot out from the small box were so significant, that Emma could feel its scortching heat against Regina's skin; bringing a second of relief from the cold. The sensation was gone instantly, however, when she saw a scaly wing flap from out of the box.
Zelena held her wand out in defense, as the creature rose up, foot-after-terrifying-foot of monstrous, scaly skin climbing from out of its tiny prison.
It wasn't just the size of the dragon that had taken her by surprise, but the vicious snarl it gave; its glowing red eyes capturing Regina's, before it took off into the night sky with a blood curdling roar.
And then, like a volcano eruption, what seemed like hundred of creatures burst from the box, many which Emma noticed were surrounded by bright fire: dragons of various sizes, hound-like creatures that would have scared the Narnian werewolves out of their wits, giant birds with flames for wings, and even a few wraith-looking creatures; which Emma was fairly certain could cause far worse damage than the version she was familiar with.
The ice around them melted quickly and Emma felt Regina's clothes soaking through from the chilly water, as Zelena struggled to keep her and Maleficent from the burning blaze.
After a few agonizing minutes, the witch flicked her wrist again, and the box closed with another click. The two sisters glanced at each other with satisfied looks, before Maleficent made her way back over to the cauldron.
Zelena turned to Regina again, a wicked smile on her green face, her teeth stark white against her red lips.
"Your pitiful army will be no match for ours now, Regina. Maybe we should keep you alive long enough for you to see it fall."
Regina shifted her body under the wet stones below, and Emma felt the sensation return to the queen's limbs; her wrists screaming in protest from the shackles against the raw skin. She looked up into the witch's stare, and was surprised at the response she heard Regina give.
"You forget about our wild card, the Savior. And good luck getting those other rings-"
"Oh, but you don't need to worry about that, Dearie. I've had the rings all along…"
If Emma had been there herself, she was sure her stomach would have dropped to the floor. She knew that voice well, and if he was here, it was because he wanted to be.
She turned to see the figure emerge from the darkness, and remove his cloak; the flames from the box's creatures lighting up the surrounding area so much, that it actually flickered across Gold's face- showing both highlights and shadows.
"And I've always known how to pick the winning side."
Emma blinked, realizing with both disappointment and relief, that she had regained control of her movements. She took a moment to appreciate what it felt to breathe and move on her own, before Killian spoke.
"Emma?"
He cupped her face with his clammy hand, and she could see that he now searched her body for any injury.
It was Emma's turn to actually feel her heart clench and her stomach drop, as she looked up into the night sky that was bright with orange and red; angry flames hovering over them like they were trapped inside of a giant broiler.
She allowed Killian to help her stand, his breath heavy like he had been running; but Emma knew instantly why he seemed so panicked.
The creatures from Pandora's box covered the skies and land surrounding the castle. Where before there had been rows of men and arsenal, now was a sea of destruction and mayhem; with the fire and the screams of those fighting against the beasts, resonating through the land.
This can't be real.
Killian broke the silence, pulling Emma's chin toward his to force her to look at him.
"Emma, what happened?"
She felt the biting pain at her wrists, the rubbing from Regina's shackles burning into Emma's skin now; and it brought her back to her senses.
"Gold… he's been working against us all along..."
Her voice sounded so strange, like a dream; but Emma knew that the idea that all of this was one big nightmare, was long gone.
"Rumplestiltskin?"
Emma nodded her head silently, numb to the realization that they had no hope left. He had betrayed them, and now the witches had the rings that made The Black Wand invincible.
"We're all alone," she whispered, before she felt Killian pull her in closer.
The sound of clambering hooves behind them had been surprisingly loud, considering the chaos and commotion going down on the battle field; but it was the masculine shout to hault, that caused Emma to turn around.
In the brightness of the flames that lit up the sky above them, Emma could see the dimples show through the centaur's dark beard; Dorian's bright teeth flashing in the moonlight.
"You are far from alone, Your Highness."
… Now we're in the ring
And we're coming for blood.
(Oh!Oh!)
You could try and take us (oh-oh)
But we're the gladiators (Oh!Oh!)
Everyone a rager (oh-oh)
But secretly they're saviors.
A/N: Disclaimer: I couldn't put this in the beginning, because I'd give it away. Don't worry, they are not going back to Narnia. I don't own anything from C.S. Lewis' The Chronicles of Narnia series, but technically Dorian belongs to me :)
Almost there…Go on, and leave a quick review for me, ok?
Lyrics Disclaimer: Lorde. "Glory and Gore." Pure Heroine. 2013. Lava Records and Republic Records. Written by Joel Little.