Chapter III

"Who exactly was Galahad?" Mary Margaret whispers to Regina at the back of the group. "I don't recall them ever mentioning him when we were in Camelot."

"By the time you and Prince Charming visited Camelot it would have been several years since the young boy had disappeared. He was Lancelot's son; born out of wedlock to a young woman from a neighbouring land. The brief romance was before the dark knight journeyed to Camelot and Arthur knighted him. When the boy was two his mother decided she could no longer keep him as her new husband didn't take kindly to to the toddler, or so Mal told me. She's known Freya a lot longer than I have," explains Regina in a low voice, her eyes fixed on Freya at the front smiling and joking with Lily and Mal. "The mother left the child at Avalon with Freya. She - with Guinevere's help - made sure the boy wanted for nothing and knew the love of a mother, even though Freya herself was but sixteen at the time."

Mary Margaret's eyes shimmer with unshed tears. Her own thoughts drift to her daughter growing up without such knowledge and her baby boy, little Neal, who was safe and sound asleep currently being minded by Ruby back at their apartment. Regina momentarily clasps her hand, shooting the short-haired woman a brief smile of understanding, before David wraps his arm around his wife's shoulders and pulls her against him as they walk. David leaves a peck on his wife's head just as Robin reaches out and gently tugs on Regina's arm. The Charmings and Regina halt for a moment as Robin silently stares ahead at Freya walking arm-in-arm with Maleficent and talking with Lily; Killian following silently behind though the pirate pauses when he realises that the others have dropped back. Surreptitiously he joins them with a querying look.

"You said you'd explain what the ceremony was," reminds Robin.

"I don't know if now is really the time, mate," frowns Killian.

"Let's keep walking, but we'll talk quietly so as to not be overheard," suggests Regina. "Which ceremony do you want to know about?"

"Well if we have time I'd be interested in the one we saw in the water; the one you, Maleficent and Hook all attended and participated in," replies David in a low voice.

"That was the passing of the torch, so to speak. Morgana Le Fay was the previous Lady of the Lake. I met her only on a few occasions; the first being with Rumplestiltskin and the other times with Mal," explains Regina with a smile of remembrance on her painted lips. "But by the time I'd been introduced to Morgana, her apprentice was nearly ready to take her place as the new Lady of the Lake."

"Freya."

"Yes, Snow. And she hasn't changed much at all since way back then. She was a lovely young woman, and sometimes rather precocious...at least that's how Mal used to describe her though I figure that's most likely due to her having known Freya since she was a child of thirteen."

"Even longer than I've known her," adds Killian. "She had just turned twenty-one in that memory you saw. Her coming-of-age, unlike for most young ladies of noble birth, did not signify that she was ready for marriage but rather that she was ready to make her pledge to Avalon. The Ceremony we were all witness to was Morgana passing along the powers and title of Lady of the Lake to Freya."

"How old was she when you two first met?" Mary Margaret asks, squinting her eyes a little at the leather-clad man swaggering beside her.

"It was just before Galahad came to be at Camelot; Pan had allowed me passage from Neverland so that I might...retrieve a certain object for him. He told me I was to go to Camelot and meet with the Lady of the Lake. I'd had occasion to meet Morgana alone several times before, but at the time of my arrival on this particular occasion her pupil was hard at study with her. As a test, to ensure Freya was learning what Morgana was teaching her about travelling through the realms, Morgana sent Freya with me and my crew back to Neverland. She stayed with us for a short period, through our travels amongst our realm and then onwards to Neverland."

His eyes darken as he remembers the past and he gives his captive audience a small bleak smile. "Pan let her go peacefully that time, so as not to incur the Lady of the Lake's wrath and because she was of little use to him. Then. Anyway, I was requested to accompany her home. 'Twas when we were readying the ship to set sail back to Neverland from the marina near Camelot where we'd docked that Freya had her first emotional outburst. I don't know what made me whistle the tune she had hummed for the Lost Boys, but it worked and the tsunami trickled back into the sea, leaving not a trace it had ever rose up in the first place. I left the rest of the preparations to my crew and rode with the young lass back to Camelot and to her mentor as swiftly as we could."

"So she was just 16, if even. And how old were you?" asks Mary Margaret, shocked by the age gap.

"That hardly matters, my lady. Nothing occurred between us at that point."

"Perhaps not then," insinuates the raven-haired woman.

"And the other ceremony?" Robin chimes in with a knowing look of impending disaster about to erupt.

Regina throws him a thankful look for preventing (yet another) possible argument. "The Fiery Arrow Ceremony is a Camelotian honour funeral for its knights. I've never seen one before but I know the customs for it."

"Unless you count the glimpse of the ceremony I caught from Freya's mind, I've never been privy to the ceremony either."

"It's a private ritual then?" asks David.

"Very. Only those from Camelot, close family and friends of the deceased may attend such a funeral," explains Killian, soberly.

"The knight is placed in a hand-carved boat on top of a bed of ferns. He is usually dressed in his best clothes, or clean chainmail if he was killed in battle. His arms are crossed across his chest with a weaved shield of wildflowers with a sword atop it and the hilt clasped in his hands. It depends on the time of year as to which wildflowers are used. In Spring it's either wood-sorrel or wild garlic; the Summer it's honeysuckle or enchanter's nightshade; during Autumn you would only ever see flowers from ivy being used, and sometimes the leaf itself; and in the cold Winter flowers from either a hawthorn or a rowan tree will be used," explains Regina, being careful to keep her voice quiet so as to remain unheard by the three walking ahead of them.

"If the knight was truly a noble soul, his family would also thread together a crown of whatever flowers they have used, along with whatever flowers fitted who the man was in his life," adds Killian. "Freya used wild garlic for Galahad, and made him a crown of it with a single daffodil along with some freesias and larkspurs. Her way of saying he was a chivalrous and spirited lad who had a beautiful spirit."

"Didn't take you for a botanist," laughs David.

"When I saw what was in her mind some of her thoughts concerning the rites were imprinted on the flash of memory," explains Killian, his voice low and his eyes dark, daring the prince to make further comment.

"What about the 'fiery arrow' part?" asks Robin; once again attempting to diffuse a potential argument.

"I'd figured that was the part that caught your attention," teases Regina before her smile fades. "The boat is walked out to the middle of Lake Avalon by the Lady of the Lake. There she says some manner of blessing over the body; that part was always very secretive and very little was actually written about that component of the ceremony. All I know is that some water from the lake is poured on to the forehead in a spiral shape from the hands of the Lady of the Lake. Then the Lady exits the water backwards, her gaze never leaving the boat and body.

"When she is in the shallows a handcrafted bow and arrow are passed to the Lady and the next of kin. However if the next of kin cannot wield a bow for whatever reason, or there is no living relative, the Lady of the Lake must fire two arrows from her bow at the same time. With her magic she ignites the tip of the arrows and they are released. The magical fire is quick to burn all within the boat, and the boat itself. It's sometimes said that from within the smoke some can see through the veil of life itself and see a number of their loved ones that have already passed from this world," Regina rolls her eyes and attempts a chuckle at the idea of such a notion, but it's clear her heart isn't in it.

Robin reaches out and caresses her cheek before kissing her softly. "Thank you for telling me."

"We're almost at the docks. Perhaps we should catch up with the other three so as uncomfortable questions aren't asked," suggests David after a moment.

The party come to a halt as they reach the wooden pier at the docks. The high main mast of the Jolly Roger stands above all the other boats anchored. Freya's smile widens as she looks out at the calm sea and the tall ship that bobs up and down with the movement of the ocean. The others turn to lead her towards the dock the Jolly Roger is moored to, but Freya does not join them. Instead the redhead bends to slip off her high heels and peels herself out of her short fitted leather jacket. Maleficent, Regina and Killian all recoil slightly as the luminescence of the moon and the warm orange glow of the street lights reveal the white web of raised scarring upon her bare back.

"It's in the shape of your rowan tree," Maleficent manages to finally speak.

Maleficent's blue eyes are spellbound by the expansive marks that fill the younger's previously smooth pale back from the base of her neck to just above the dimples that show above the low cut of the backless navy dress. Like the dragon-witch neither Killian nor Regina can turn their gaze from the scars. The marred flesh looks like a canvas used to paint the picture of branches stretching wide from one side of her back to the other. Along with a weathered trunk seemingly reaching up from the base her spine to the back of her neck.

Freya stiffens and whirls putting her blemished back to the sea. She'd grown complacent around Thomas and his friends as they'd all seen the marks, though they had believed her when she told them it was a tattoo in white ink. All with the exception of Thomas who had been with his grandfather when she had explained the disfiguration to Galahad. She knew the three wouldn't accept the same explanation as the one she gave Thomas' mates.

"Don't worry about it," she smiles woodenly at her three friends, taking note that the other four look almost as concerned for her.

"How can we not worry about it? That was done by magic," replies Regina fiercely.

"Just forget you ever saw them. Bask in your happiness Regina, for I would not see it destroyed for anything. Any of your happinesses," she adds softly.

Killian moves slowly towards her. "Let us help you, lass," he tells her as he reaches out to her.

Freya swiftly manoeuvres out of the pirate's reach, green eyes fearfully wide as she looks back and down at her scar-covered shoulder where Killian would have touched had she let him. Regina uses the young woman's distraction to stretch out her hand, placing a single gloved finger upon her marked back.

The effect is almost instantaneous. Regina drops to the pavement and collapses on to her back as Freya twists round to stare down at her friend's crumpled face. Robin immediately rushes forward, crying out his love's name in fear, and kneels beside her frozen form to take her into his arms. Her dark eyes remain transfixed on Freya and full of horror.

"Wulfric Tugrik was attempting to flee the cloud of magic that was the First Curse on his horse and cart," Freya suddenly speaks in an emotionless voice, her gaze now on her bare feet.

"Who?" frowns Mary Margaret in confusion as to what that has to do with anything.

"The horse was going as fast as it could and so when the cart hit a stone on the road the wheel broke off and Wulfric ended up being launched before his horse. The horse had too much speed and terror so could not stop," the redhead continues, ignoring Mary Margaret.

"Freya, what exactly are you going on about?" asks Killian from her side.

"It's my fault," cries Regina in a soft broken voice.

Freya bends down and stares into her friend's eyes, her voice turning passionate. "Rumple never told you the cost of the Dark Curse on so many lives. Unless you made it so when you created the curse any that died before it hit would remain dead."

"But how is that possible? I was slain by the Black Knight's and yet I survived," David states.

"Yes, but Regina wanted you and Snow to suffer and so no matter what happened to you before the curse hit you she would bring you forth into this world. Rumple never told you my dear friend that you would have to specifically think of anyone and everyone that died just before the curse enveloped them in order to save them and bring them here."

"Why then are you harmed?"

"It was the second part of my punishment, Killian. When I came through the portal in Avalon to this world I felt every slice you see upon my back. I saw and felt each and every death, knowing each of the victims even if I'd never met them before."

Freya reaches up and touches three lines at the base of her neck, the highest of the many scars that litter her back. She stands and turns to stare bleakly out at the sea. A cold icy wind bites at her cheeks and a single tear that trembles down her cheek. She shuts her eyes and swallows harshly, squaring her shoulders before speaking quietly.

"The last three scars that sliced open my skin cut far more deeply. I saw my friends and family panicked by the approaching magic, but they stood firm and pushed back their fear as was only expected from knights of Camelot. One, however, used it as a moment to gain revenge and retribution as he saw fit. Mordred attempted to attack Arthur and Neve. But the knights were quicker to halt him. He cut three of them down with sword and dark magic before he was placed in chains. The three he killed were Sir Leon, Sir Elyan, and...," Freya lightly brushes the scar on the left, then the right, but her fingers shake above the middle one, "and Sir Percival, my brother."

"No, Freya!" calls out Regina in denial. "It can't be. I killed your brother?"

At that Freya spins and smile sadly at Regina who has finally regained her feet. "You didn't kill him and I know had you been aware you would have done all you could. As it was, the magic of Avalon protected Camelot from the curse and so even had you had such knowledge, you could not have undone Mordred's horrendous deed and brought him forth to this world."

"I am so sorry for your loss," Mary Margaret tells the young woman. "But I don't understand how Arthur and Guinevere are here if as you said Camelot was protected from such magic."

"When you performed the Second Curse I can only guess that you didn't give warning to the people of Camelot. Only if they had been within the walls of the great castle or by Lake Avalon's banks would they have been protected. Now, enough talk of such sad things," she tries to smile before turning and lowering herself down into the sea.

"She's just a regular Jesus, isn't she?" remarks Lily wide-eyed as the group watch on in shock as Freya calmly walks across the surface of the swells.

"She is the Lady of the Lake and so can command much of any water source," explains Maleficent proudly.

"Been a rather helpful talent the several times she's been aboard my ship. You can get even more speed with her aid, as well as the added bonus of her being able to halt any pursuing vessels."

When she deems herself to be out deep enough, Freya shuts her eyes and sinks slowly down into the water's depths. A few moments pass and she appears again, this time swimming back to the gathered onlookers. Killian reaches down and grabs her hand to pull her from the water when she reaches them.

"There she is," grins the pirate, gazing down at her new look.

Freya's previous dress has vanished and in it's place an ethereal gown takes it's place. The dress is made from taffeta in an iridescent shade of aquamarine green. The full-length flowing skirt is draped with a short diagonal layer of chiffon in the same shade as the silk underskirt, with the corseted bodice and shoulder strap also having been crafted from the same material. A simple embroidery of silver sequins upon the bodice adds to the shimmery and otherworldly look.

"Modern clothing does have some benefits. Main one being the lack of corsets in most pieces and that they tend to be crafted to show your natural shape more so than many women's clothes from our realm. I do still love many of our clothes though and whilst I am sad you no longer wear that lovely black leather trenchcoat, I have to admit I'm liking your new look," compliments Freya with a wink at the dark-haired captain.

Maleficent's pouty lips curve into a satisfied grin at the re-emergence of the friend she'd known for many years, whilst Regina subtly coughs and raises an eyebrow at Freya before glancing to Emma's parents stood watching the young woman's flirtation in discomfort.

"Oh come on. A little harmless flirting never hurt anyone. It'll never amount to anything," Freya rolls her eyes. "But we should get down to more serious business before I go and attempt oblivion with the aid of rum. I saw in the flashes in your head that you have the dagger, Killian. You need to summon the Dark One and command her."

"What?" Killian takes a few steps back in shock. "How could you suggest such a thing?"

"I wasn't suggesting anything," she replies steely.

"Why on Earth would we want to hold command over Emma?" cries out Mary Margaret in confusion.

"We'll need to leave Storybrooke to get Merlin. I can discover where he may be, but we'll need to go in person to...persuade him to help in this matter. Do you really want to go away from this town, leaving all the others to fend for themselves with the Dark One roaming the streets?" explains Freya calmly, letting her vivid green eyes soften to show she sympathises greatly with their plight.

"But it's Emma. She wouldn't -" started David before Freya butts in.

"I saw what happened. Those powers once they take hold of you they warp around the person and can take charge quite easily. You saw them, they have a will of their own. And their will is to gain even more power and to cause destruction and mayhem."

"But Rumple had control over his powers," chimes in Maleficent, before snapping her mouth shut shocked she was, in a roundabout way, siding with the Charmings.

Freya laughs humorlessly at that. "Not all the time. You all know now how much time he spent searching for ways to find and be with his son. Do you truly think, had the Darkness not made their will stronger than his own, that he wouldn't have willingly gone with Baelfire? At times he was a true monster, but you Killian of all people should know that that is not what the man once was."

Killian clenches his jaw, his pained gaze dropping to the pavement beneath his feet, before he reaches inside his leather jacket and pulls out the engraved serpentine blade. His hand trembles slightly as he holds it out in front of him. The others watch on, at the ready for whatever should happen next, but Killian remains silent. His gaze bleakly turns to Freya.

"I can't do that to her."

Freya sighs and nods in understanding before holding her palm out flat. To the shock of everyone around her the dagger disappears from Killian's grip, reappearing in a cloud of bright blue smoke in Freya's left hand.

"That's not possible," gasps Regina.

"Isn't the blade supposed to be enchanted against such magic?" frowns Maleficent.

"Is it a fake then?" asks Lily.

"Oh no, it's the real deal," winces Freya. "I can feel the power in it."

"Then how were you able to accomplish a supposedly impossible feat?" queries Robin, as he stands up straighter focusing harder on the stranger in their midst.

"Unless you have a crazy amount of power it is," smiles Freya sadly. "Even this far away I can still feel the paltry power within this world's Avalon. That plus the magic in this town gives me a little more power than what I had at home. But there's also this," she explains as she uses her free hand to lift the other necklace she still wore from where it rested beneath her dress.

"It's glowing," comments Killian, his eyes widening in disbelief and his eyebrows slanting as he stares at the glass sphere of water attached to the long silver chain around her neck that has golden sparkles dancing throughout it.

"What exactly does that mean?" asks David.

"You're still connected to our realm," whispers Maleficent, her eyes widen and her mouth drooping into a small 'O'.

Freya nods before taking a deep breath and gazing up at the night sky as she raises the dagger before her, crying out to the Dark One and demanding her appearance.

"Emma!" cries out Mary Margaret happily as her daughter blinks into existence before her, but Emma barely even pauses to glance at her before turning to the newcomer.

"Who're you?"

"The Darkness within you knows exactly who I am."

It takes only a moment and then Emma laughs coldly, making the others flinch. The person before them truly is no longer the Emma Swan they care for. Killian's gaze immediately turns to Freya's, pleadingly. But the interaction does not go unnoticed.

"I'm gone five minutes and already you're finding some other woman to charm, Hook?" the blonde whimpers. "And after my final declaration. You know how hard it is for me to open my heart to anyone. But I did it for you. I told you I loved you and now you're sexing it up with this slut," she cries, her eyes shining with the tears she's holding back.

"It isn't like that, love," he replies defensively, his tone agonised.

Emma laughs at him coldly, "Oh I can't keep it up. Your face was priceless!" before raising her hands in his direction but Freya recognises the magical move and swiftly steps between them, holding the blade clearly before her and making the Dark One flinch back.

"Even with the Apprentice placing you inside the Hat, the enchantment still holds whilst you're connected to a human soul. Emma Swan, I command you that you will not use your power - either that of the Dark One, or the Saviour - and until commanded otherwise you will remain in a cell in the Sheriff's station where you cannot harm anyone."

Her hazel green eyes flash with fury before she disappears in a cloud of red smoke. Mary Margaret, David and Killian glance around the area before turning to frown at Freya. The Lady of the Lake however has her back to them and is silently looking out at the crashing waves. The blade remains in her hand, down at her side before suddenly Killian finds himself once again in possession of the thing he'd searched nearly two centuries for. The silence within the group is broken by Regina as she steps forward, standing beside the redhead. A glance at her profile shows her face is an emotionless mask. Her right hand clutches the sphere upon her necklace, the gold flecks managing to send sparks of light out into the darkness through the smallest of gaps in her fingers.

"Everyone will be safe now?"

"For now," nods Freya, reassuring her friend without glancing at her. "Now that my work is done for the night, I'd really prefer to be alone right now," she tells them dropping the cheerful facade she'd wrapped around herself when she first entered the town before picking up her discarded shoes and heading towards the Jolly Roger without a backwards glance.

"You can't just expect to walk off after what you just did!" Killian calls after her bringing her to a halt.

"Was it really necessary to treat her that way?" adds Mary Margaret, her light green eyes flashing in anger.

Freya whirls around at the septet still standing on the path, her face like thunder. "You asked for my assistance. Do you want to go on this journey to find Merlin and end up coming back to Storybrooke and finding the Dark One has committed a number of atrocities, possibly forever blackening your daughter's heart?" she asks, her voice cold as ice. "You don't even realise how dangerous it was for me to even be here and suggest that someone else command the Dark One. The Darkness knows me and my weaknesses. I knew that one of you summoning Emma could mean that it killed me where I stood; anything to prevent you being able to locate Merlin and gain his aid. And now your little town and all the people here are safe from her magic, but all you can think about is that I should have been kinder."

All of a sudden, as the emotion appears to just bleed out of her, Freya appears to shrink in size with her shoulders curling in around her and her gaze falling to the ground beneath her bare feet. She looks completely defeated and so alone.

"Freya," starts Regina, but the woman glances up at her and gives her a slight smile.

"I'll be fine. I just need...space," she sighs before giving them all one last bleak glance full of her sorrow and pain for the situation they are going through, as well as the deep and weary parental grief filling her every bone.

Killian watches on, his one hand fisting at his side, cursing softly as Freya turns and climbs aboard his ship before going below decks. He chastises himself for not having realised she had felt his pain and sorrow as if it was her own when she looked into his memories. Those feelings hadn't disappeared, she'd just buried them deep down like the grief she felt for her son. He should have known that no matter how hard she tried to conceal her emotions, they always found a way to bubble to the surface and hurt Freya even more than if she'd just dealt with them when she first felt them. He remembers her mentor Morgana Le Fay, the previous Lady of Lake, telling him the redhead had done so with all her strong feelings - whether good or bad - ever since her father abandoned her when she was still a child.

"We should help her in some way," murmurs Mary Margaret, the guilt thick in her voice, but Hook prevents her from going near the ship.

"Leave her be. When she's feeling such intense emotions, she prefers to deal with it in privacy. Give her that. Freya will still be here tomorrow, and perhaps we can help her in some way then."