Live as Regina

by Mac NorthSea

On the way to Neverland,Emma is troubled by the moments in the mines she and Regina had at moment of Regina's self-sacrifice that changed everything,even Emma herself.With understanding her upbringing gave her,the Savior decides to save not only Henry but his mother as well. Doing so will take her and her family through harrowing challenges of love,duty,conflict,and magic.

31. Chapter 27

Yes, I have been away for almost a year, and I know you have been waiting patiently for an update. Thank you, from my heart. I will not try your patience further and write a long author's note. So, here it is - I hope you like it. As always, unbetaed. I did went over it several times, but that is not a guaranty that there are no mistakes.

Enjoy!

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Chapter 27.

Silence enveloped the softly lit room, interrupted by a quiet murmur of the dancing flames of the candles lining the walls and burning oil occasionally sizzling in the bowls of clay placed around the pool, their scent mixing with the soothing fragrance of oils used for the massage. Sometimes, a light creak of the leather pillow would be heard over the soft whisper of the blazes. That is, until a pleasure filled moan sounded, quickly followed by another one, longer this time, slowly turning into a pleased deep sigh. Gentle hands, slickened by lavender oil lifted from the pale, glistening skin of the lower part of the leg, transferring to the other leg, pausing for a moment before rubbing in a generous amount of freshly poured oil, causing the prone woman to moan again, as the diligent hands worked wonders on the aching muscles of her calf, lifting the leg slightly in the air to ease access.

Slowly, Regina kneaded the oiled flesh in front of her, tracing the muscle lines with her fingers, careful not to cause any undue pain, but to provide relief and relaxation, as well as some gratification. She had started with gentle, caressing touches, gradually pressing down harder, noticing that the woman under her tender care would almost imperceptibly shy away from more intimate touches, tensing up whenever her hands would pass over the inner sides of Emma's thighs, or the underside of her breasts, her barely there flinches clearly stating that Emma wasn't ready for any intimacy of sexual nature, even though her body did show signs of arousal. To make things even more complicated, each delighted sigh or pleasured moan Emma would make, caused Regina to experience a wave of heat, her desire burning through her blood, flushing the skin and shortening her breath. However, the sweat covered brunette respected Emma's reluctance, constraining her hands to provide only a healing touch.

When she was finished with Emma's left foot, having already massaged her entire body, back and front, Regina rose slowly from the floor she had been situated on, satisfied that her beloved had dropped into a relaxed doze, her breathing even and deep, finally getting the rest from the walk they had had that day, the rest she needed to heal. But, there was one thing she had wanted to do since she had seen various hair lotions on the shelf in the wash room, and for it, she needed to take different oil. Straightening up and stretching her back, Regina unbuttoned her sweat doused shirt and dropped it by Emma's things, wasting no time to disrobe fully, not willing to get oil on her clothes she had been careful with during the massage. However, with what she intended, avoiding oily stains on her pants would be impossible, and with that in mind, she picked another large towel, wrapping it around her middle, its lower edge covering her down to her knees. Then, she walked to the rack with various vials, jars, and bottles on it, taking the one she had seen before, cradling it in her hand as she hummed with satisfaction at the inscription at the top. Almond-Argan-Chamomile it said on the small piece of paper tied to the neck of the dark brown glass bottle. Pleased with her find, Regina also picked a wide tooth comb and a leather twine from the shelf and brought it all with her as she walked over to Emma, careful not to make much noise. Lowering herself onto the pillow in the floor right above Emma, she gently lifted the blonde's head and quietly slipped her crossed legs underneath it, creating a cradle of Emma's head out of her lap and the towel. With tender ministrations, Regina covered each strand of the golden hair with the curative oil, rubbing some of it into the scalp, before she slowly and gently started passing the comb through the hair, removing the knots and restoring its natural shine, lost to the fever and damaging magic that had passed through Emma's body.

It was strange for the brunette to experience that amount of comfort she received from simply being able to touch her True Love, or pass her hand through the luscious tresses of her beloved, the anxieties and fears she had experienced during her leave soothed away with regular contact. And, after two months of missing the woman dearly, this simple pleasure, the gesture of giving a rub down to the aching blonde was immensely fulfilling. Having Emma asleep in her lap with her face relaxed and peaceful was priceless.

After a while, Regina reluctantly gathered the oiled hair, using her hands to wind it gently into a bun, using the leather twine she had taken earlier to hold it in place, while soaking up the nutritional oils. Then, with a soft caress over Emma's face and shoulder, she coaxed the sleeping blonde to turn over onto her belly, using another towel to cover her from her shoulders to feet, not for modesty's sake, but because, even though it was very hot in the room due to burning oils, Emma's body was slowly starting to cool down, muscles losing their warmth in the state of relaxation, and Regina didn't want to risk any more trouble for her lover.

Having sorted Emma out, the brunette hummed softly to herself, once more finding herself at the shelf, this time taking some of the salts for the bath she planned to take. After grabbing a handful of a curious and colorful mix, she walked up to the edge of the pool and threw the salts in, before she used her magic to operate the levers used to control the water flow, forcing the boiling hot water to pour into the pool, creating a pleasing smell as soon the steaming liquid hit the salts at the bottom. Glancing toward the still sleeping blonde to check if the hissing gurgle of the water caused the woman to stir, Regina smiled lovingly at her beloved who was still lost in her dreams. When the water reached two inches below the floor level, the brunette stopped the flow, closing her eyes at the steam filling up the room, the vapors smelling of vanilla, honey and lavender.

---

A soft splash of water was what had wakened her, but because it was a gentle sound, Emma did not startle awake, but slowly came to wakefulness, her eyes still closed. She perked her ear and smiled at the quiet sigh she would recognize anywhere, especially since she had had some experience in causing it. Without moving her body, she lazily let her lids separate, showing her the woman she loved slip underneath the water level, enjoying the steaming bath. Shortly after that, the top of Regina's head broke the surface, slowly emerging, appearing as a goddess in the mist rising of the water, her wet hair slicked back, completely uncovering her face, and for Emma, that face was the heaven itself.

Shifting quietly, so the leather underneath would not creak, Emma brought herself to the edge of the pillow, placing her left forearm under her cheek, watching while Regina was enjoying the water. It might have been a little creepy, the blonde thought to herself, but she had missed the brunette too much to care about decency. And, while she was still hesitant to touch and jump back into their relationship, right where they had left off the night before Regina had gone to Storybrooke – mostly because the pain of the days after still haunted Emma and made her fear the next separation, which would come inevitably; Emma was not opposed to looking at her beloved, re-familiarizing with the contours her hands had traced before.

"You can join me," Regina spoke suddenly, casting a knowing glance in her direction as she treaded water with her arms, the hot liquid coming to her chin.

Emma smiled, before her lips upturned in a rakish grin. "Maybe later," she murmured, extending her right arm to the edge of the pool, casually dropping her hand in the hot water. "I am good here."

"Mhm," Regina smirked at the blonde, her eyebrow curved, as her eyes glowed with mirthful teasing. "Right you are," she added mischievously as she reached for a sponge, her moves suddenly turning more sensual, purposefully tempting, her alluring dark eyes meeting Emma's with heat, silently gloating when she heard the blonde choke slightly on her own breath. But, she slowly toned down her seduction, not willing to push Emma into doing something damaging for her wellbeing just because of their lust getting out of control.

Quickly rubbing her skin with the sponge, Regina washed her body, before she swam up to the ledge where Emma's hand was still lazily treading water. Rising up slightly, she emerged from the water so Emma's palm would be on her shoulder, and with her hands, she pulled herself a bit up, using her jump to lean over Emma and kiss her swiftly before she returned into the water with a smirk. "Do my back?" she said softly, turning around in the water and offering Emma the sponge over her shoulder.

She heard Emma's soft chuckle from behind her, and rustling of the leather and towel as the blonde sat up. "Too bad you don't have one of your hand maidens for this," the Sheriff remarked teasingly, taking the sponge and dousing it with water, before she lowered her legs into the bath for easier access, tying up her towel to stay in place with one hand. Gently moving Regina's tresses of her shoulders, she leaned in and pressed the sponge at the base of the brunette's neck, starting the gentle motion of washing.

"Then, I guess it is a good thing you are handy," the Queen said haughtily before she hummed in pleasure as the coarse surface of the sponge passed along her spine, scrubbing the skin between her shoulder bones, her soft hum turning into a full-fledged groan of deep satisfaction when Emma abandoned the sponge all together and dug her fingers into the flesh along the spine at the shoulder level, the expert pressure unlocking the knots Regina didn't even register she had, relieving accrued tension in the root of her neck and shoulders. "Oh good God," she gasped when the blonde found another one, dismantling it within moments.

"Been spending lot of times in the office?" the soft whisper of the Savior washed over Regina, when her hands stopped with the knot breaking and lowered down, sliding down Regina's shoulders and upper arms in soft caress. With one slick motion, Emma slipped into the water, behind her lover, pulling her close in a gentle embrace, her hands resting on Regina's belly, nuzzling her nose into the sensitive area of the place where the brunette's skull met the spine, her warm breath causing Regina to tremble slightly.

"Research," Regina murmured quietly when her head leaned back on Emma's shoulder, before she turned in Emma's hold, looking into the gentle green eyes focused onto her face. "Distractions," she added softly, her hand reaching for the Savior's cheek, her touch gentle and caring. She could see that the grayish blue pigment of Emma's eyes was receding, and as the spring green started establishing itself in the irises of her beloved, Regina felt her worries regarding her True Love leave her, at least for the moment.

Under the affectionate regard, the blonde sighed happily, enjoying the surrounding warmth of the water and her lover in her arms. "I love you," Emma suddenly whispered, bringing Regina's body closer to hers, leaving no space between them, her hands pressing against the brunette's back. "I love you," she repeated softly, her forehead meeting Regina's.

"I love you," Regina affirmed gently, with understanding, as she returned the hold just as strongly. It was the first time Emma had said it in a while, out loud at least. It was also the first time the Savior truly believed that Regina was there, with her, accepting her presence as a fact. But, it was also a promise, one that Regina could see Emma intended to keep with every tenet of her being, she herself feeling the same. Holding on, the brunette leaned her chin onto Emma's shoulder and just enjoyed the full bodied embrace, her eyes closed. She smiled when she felt the blonde's hand play with the waterlogged tresses, obviously appreciating its newly seen length.

"You are letting it grow out," Emma murmured softly, the dark lock wound around her finger.

"It was a time for a change. And, after having the same hairdo for almost three decades, one gets bored with it…" Regina felt the Sheriff's body shake with the slight chuckle Emma let out at her flippant tones. "Speaking of which, we should get out of here," she spoke as she brought herself to the shallower part of the pool and lifted herself up with her hands, taking a seat on the ledge before rising to her feet, her naked body exposed to the hot air of the room. She could feel the blonde's hungry eyes over her flesh but before she could comment on that, she saw Emma submerge herself under water, in effort to stop. Chuckling at Emma's antics, she wrapped a clean towel around herself, using a smaller one for her hair, before she picked up the ones for Emma to use. Then, she gathered their clothes and left the bathroom, giving the blonde some space.

When she entered their sleeping quarters, Regina stopped at the sight awaiting her. The hearth in the wall away from the bed held blazing fire, warming the room against the evening chill. And, close to it, a dining table was set, laden with food and drinks, its extravagant set up completed by a silver candle holder with three lit candles in the middle. Against it, leaning on the polished silver stood a piece of paper with elegant handwriting strewn across it, a simple M at the bottom denoting whom it was from. However, before stepping to the table, Regina walked toward the bed, where fresh and thick robes were strewn across it, the comfortable garments perfect for lounging in them. Using her magic, the brunette slipped into the soft robe and sorted out their previously worn garb, cleaning them herself rather than to rely on Morgan's helpful staff, placing their clothes into the dresser she had noticed earlier, standing unobtrusively in one of the corners. Along with their previously worn clothes, the dresser was filled with other garments, obviously intended for Regina and Emma, as the brunette could see that the new articles of clothing were in their sizes. With an appreciative hum, she closed the dresser and turned around. Then, she approached the table, smiling at the festive feel to its setting, as her fingers touched the pristine white cloth, before she reached for the note.

The fact that you are together again should be cherished and celebrated, for you never know when you will be apart, and for how long. With my compliments, enjoy. M

Holding the note in her hand, Regina considered the plentiful at the table, her hand idly fiddling with her apple tree necklace, smiling softly as she would glance upon the loopy lines over the parchment.

"What's this?" came from behind her, and Regina turned, her eyes taking in the blonde standing in the doorway between their room and the washroom, wrapped in a towel, with another one in her hand, drying her hair. Her curious eyes were taking in the scene in front of her, the amused glance she had thrown at Regina showing her obvious relaxation, as well as her glorious skin gleaming with fresh healthy pinkish shine from the hot bath did.

"Our dinner," Regina spoke, offering the note to her. She watched as her beloved came closer to her, the still wet locks of blonde hair framing the fair face, a soft smile pulling on her lips as Emma's hand came in touch with hers, before taking the paper. As the green eyes focused on the words, Regina reached for a pitcher at the middle of the table, pouring fresh water into the cups, waiting for the blonde's reaction.

"Quite hospitable people, aren't they?" Emma murmured as she accepted the cup from Regina. The brunette chuckled at the thinly veiled suspicious tone in the whisper before she took her seat, the spread reminding her that she was actually famished.

Emma joined her quickly, after donning the other robe, bringing her chair closer to Regina's side, rather than to sit at the other end. Even though the silence between them was not uncomfortable and was filled with much love and appreciation, the blonde broke it with a softly whispered question about her time in the Enchanted Forest, easing them into a light conversation about their past two months of separation.

---

Bringing her cup to her lips, Regina watched her beloved, noticing that the muscles she had worked hard to relax were tense again, the shoulders once more carrying the burden of the world on them as Emma was leaning against one of the pillars of the window bay, looking outside into the night, her deep sighs having brought the brunette's attention back to her. "You seem away," Regina said softly after sipping her drink, deciding to break the silence that had fallen over them.

Emma looked back over her shoulder, meeting the inquisitive eyes of her love, her brows slightly narrowing as she sighed again, pushing away from the window. "I just... It seems I have spent so much time expecting and waiting for the all-out war, that now..."

"You don't know what to do with yourself?" Regina supplied gently, welcoming the blonde to her side, reaching for her hand and squeezing it in comfort. "If you are too restless to sleep, we can go out," she offered in soft whisper when Emma leaned against her, the blonde's posture somewhat rigid and muscles coiled.

The Sheriff nodded absently before she rose, looking around for a moment, her eyes falling upon the dresser in the corner, directing herself towards it, her mind fully set on getting something to wear for the cold winter night. Watching the blonde pick out the garments she had worn that day, Regina took another sip of her drink before she lowered her cup onto the small table beside her seat, lifting herself onto her feet with elegance, doing her best to dispel the concern she was so sure her eyes were showing. She made no comment when Emma brought her sword, tying it to her waist, even though she noticed the woman's uncomfortable shrug of her shoulders. The movement was something Regina had been used to see in her soldiers when they were out of armor, but not in her beloved, who had only worn the black hauberk for two months. Choosing not to draw attention to it, Regina silently dressed and followed her beloved outside, throwing her cloak over her shoulders, prepared for the sudden change of temperature as they stepped out of the Marble Halls. The brunette let Emma guide them as it seemed that the woman was looking for something.

Slowly, the Sheriff walked down the steps, before she turned right, the scent of hay and animals guiding her toward the stables. And, there, free of any rein or leash, calmly munching on oats in a bucket set aside for her, stood Shadow. As soon as Emma came closer to the black mare, the Gallant-bred raised her head and snorted before turning toward the blonde, bumping her lightly in the shoulder. "Hey, girl," the Savior spoke softly, her hands going onto Shadow's neck. "Having fun, aren't you?"

Regina chuckled when the horse neighed with exuberance, shaking her mane, before she nudged Emma toward the brunette. In that moment, the former Evil Queen pledged her love to the magical steed, for the sole reason of making her True Love laugh out loud as she obeyed the mare's insistent request. And, because Emma reached out and took Regina's hand into her own, the move so natural and unencumbered by worries and reluctance that seemed to fill the blonde's every action, that one instant of jovial mood enough to push back the restlessness and broodiness for a little while.

Together, holding hands, they walked in silence, circling around the settlement, their feet moving in sync; bringing them to the edge of the village, near the cliff the House of Healing was situated on.

Emma stopped and looked up into the starry night sky, her breath visible in the cold air, but her face hidden in the shadows of the night, as they were away from the lanterns of the village. However, Regina could see where the blonde was looking, as well as the melancholic frown slightly creasing Emma's eyebrows. "The stars are different here," the Savior spoke, still looking up into the sky, before she lowered her head, catching Regina's eyes. "There are some constellations I recognize, but it is not the same sky. I didn't even notice it before. Until…" Emma hesitated for a moment, her jaw moving as if she was fighting with herself about the words she needed. Unable to watch her struggle, Regina stepped closer and brought her hand up to Emma's cheek, her fingertips gliding over the cheekbone. At the soothing touch, the blonde closed her eyes, but she didn't move away, even though her breath hitched at the searing warmth it brought, not only physical but also emotional.

"I remember," Regina murmured as her digits caressed her beloved's cheek. "At the time, it was a welcome reminder that I was far away from the pain this world had brought me, and I relished the fact that even the night sky did not bear the mark of my world." Emma opened her eyes and looked into hers, a reply almost jumping off her lips, but the brunette gently covered them with her hand. "However, after we came back, the difference only amplified the fact that we were separated." She peered into the eyes of her True Love, eyes that were now filled with muted relief for Regina had understood perfectly what Emma had been trying to say. "So, I know," the brunette spoke before she brought Emma's head to hers, leaning their foreheads together, sighing with pleasure when the strong arms encircled her shoulders, bringing her into a firm embrace.

They stood there for a while, just soaking in their connection, when a small shadow passed over them, its movement making Emma startle and reach for her sword, drawing the blade almost fully out of the scabbard before Regina's hand fell over hers. "It's okay," a quiet whisper flowed to Emma's ears as Regina tilted her head upwards toward the silhouette flying above them. And, as soon as the blonde recognized the shape of her friend against the stars, Emma allowed the weapon to slide back in its place, breath leaving her lungs in an explosive sigh, as she tried to step away from Regina. But, the gentle touch of Regina's hand over hers turned into a firm hold the very second Emma moved, keeping her in place. "Stay," the brunette said firmly, but her voice was gentle. "Stay with me."

Even though she was clenching her teeth, Emma nodded briskly, returning to her previous position, but Regina could feel the moment of their embrace was irrevocably broken, as the blonde was tense, with her hand still on her sword, ready to pull it out any second. "You said time moves differently here," Emma said suddenly several moments after, the question obvious in her voice, as the light eyes met the dark ones, a furrow in her eyebrows deepening at Regina's confirming nod. "That is why she is here," she spoke after a moment, her face clearing of the confusion Guardian's appearance created in the Savior.

"What? Why?" These past months there was rarely a time when Regina could not follow Emma's trail of thoughts, more often than not knowing instinctively what the blonde had in mind even before the words were spoken. But, now, the brunette did not have any idea what had occurred to the Sheriff. Or what the time movement had to do with the dragon.

"The eggs," Emma replied succinctly, her hand lifting off her hilt and landing on Regina's upper arm. "With the time difference, the eggs must have already hatched," the Sheriff spoke in rushed whisper, the excitement, although muted, very much evident in her behavior.

"Of course," Regina said as the meaning of Emma's previous words finally came to her. However, the smile on her face was not only due to the fact that the Lady of the Skies was not the Last of her kind anymore, but also to the disappearance of the tense and expectant posture Emma had been having.

The sound of crushing the ice crust over the frozen snow tipped off the women that someone was coming toward them in hurried step, giving them an ample warning in advance, and apart from Emma returning her hand onto the hilt of her weapon and angling herself toward the source of the intrusion, the blonde did not react, the jumpiness of the earlier moments not present.

"Oh, good, I caught you," Morgan spoke the very moment she saw them, slowing slightly down as she approached the women. Her eyes glided over the blonde, scrutinizing the Sheriff's health. The expert healer was pleased to note that apart from some residual pallor and stiffness, the Savior seemed back to normal – so much so that if Morgan hadn't been the one who had taken care of the blonde when she had first arrived, she would doubt that the Sheriff had ever been in mortal danger. Nodding to herself after the examination, the Queen of Camelot glanced over to Regina and smiled gently at the brunette. "I am aware that you cannot spend much time in Brocéliande, and if you are willing, tomorrow we can start with the further preparations." In several sentences, Morgan explained her desire to have Aileen and Percival train with Emma, to help her offset the loss of magic in the case it doesn't return. She also offered to teach Regina in the crafts of her family, explaining that her desire was, in fact a selfish one, as she wanted Regina to accept her appointment as the Heir of the Tintagel line.

"You both must agree, because of your bond, the rules are slightly different," Morgan cautioned, placing her hands onto the women's shoulders, squeezing them lightly before she let go of them. "If you agree, come to the practice grounds in the morning." After showing to Regina where the grounds were exactly, Morgan walked away, leaving them to think about the offers.

The former Evil Queen watched her father's friend disappear into the night, her white garb making her appear as a ghost created out of the mist, the image of it staying with Regina even after the woman was gone. She was both surprised and not by the Queen's desire to make her the next ruler of the Tintagel lands, and she assumed that desire had been the sole reason why Morgan had been so free sharing her past to the stranger, even if that stranger had been her dear friend's daughter.

"The Heir thing," Emma's voice startled her out of her stunned silence. "It's a big deal, right?"

"It is a long story, but, yes, it is. Huge." The brunette leaned against her beloved, relaxing into the welcoming arms around her, smiling at the light scent of almonds coming from the wavy blonde tresses flowing over Emma's shoulders.

"You should do it," the Sheriff spoke after several seconds of considering quiet, her tone serious and low as she lowered her arms. "If you want to, I mean."

"Emma," Regina spoke as she peered at the blonde, concerned by her sudden retraction and sheepish grimace that passed over the Sheriff's features. "What are you thinking?" she asked carefully, maintaining their connected gaze.

Emma shook her head before she surrendered to Regina's insistent stare, the tinge of shame for her thoughts bringing some color to her pale face. "You know all the titles this world has saddled me with," the blonde said lowly, looking somewhere above Regina's shoulder, to the East, where the rest of their friends and families were, before she returned her eyes to the patient caramel ones. "It would be nice if you had just as many," she mumbled quickly, her childlike response making Regina burst into a soft laughter. Scowling at the chuckling brunette, Emma crossed her arms and cleared her throat. "And, the Heir of Camelot would perfectly counterbalance the Evil Queen," the Sheriff added, paying no heed to Regina's softened countenance, nor to the light kiss landing on her cheek.

Only when Regina murmured 'My hero' in exaggeratedly coy tone did Emma grumble, gently pushing the brunette with her shoulder in retaliation, once more making her beloved chuckle. Taking the other woman's hand, she pulled her onward, directing herself toward the marble covered building, enduring the lighthearted snickers behind her back. However, the truth was that she enjoyed hearing her True Love so at ease, for she had not missed the signs that the separation was just as hard on Regina – perhaps even harder, because the Mayor had been forced to keep her façade of being OK around the people who knew her best. So, guiding them back to their temporary rooms in this mystical place, Emma glanced at Regina over her shoulder, offering her a light smile that made her eyes crinkle under the lights of torches placed at the entrance of the Hall.

Minutes later, behind the closed door of their room, Regina stood in front of her seated Sheriff, using a small pulse of her magic to put their cloaks away. She came closer to the blonde - who was leaning back, using her hands to prop her up against the bed as she was sitting on the beautifully carved chest at the foot of it – and lowered herself onto Emma's lap, throwing her arm around the blonde's shoulders for balance. Her other hand went to Emma's collar bone, where the golden chain with the circular pendant rested, finally returned to its proper place – the Savior having put it on when they had dressed before their walk. "Aside from the benefit of the extra titles, do you think I should do it?" she murmured, continuing their talk from earlier.

The recuperating warrior shifted, understanding the seriousness of Regina's question, and as her back straightened, she brought her arms around the woman in her lap, holding her steady before she made the brunette's fingers fiddling with her necklace still, covering them with her own and keeping them in place. "I would not say no to anything that can give you advantage over Zelena," Emma answered truthfully, looking up into her lover's face. "I have a feeling that she would use every weakness and vulnerability you have against you."

Acknowledging Emma's point, the older woman tilted her head pensively, as she thought about the things she knew of the Tintagel sorcerers. "Tintagel is supposedly the most powerful line of wizards in the history of the Enchanted Forest," she said.

"So?" Emma pulled the woman in her lap toward herself, intertwining their fingers together as she leaned her forehead against Regina's cheek. "If you are afraid of the power you'll have access to, think of this – you are the only one I know who returned to the side of the Good with powers intact. You've beaten the lure of the dark magicks before; you'll withstand it now, especially with the guidance of Morgana Le Fey."

"You trust her?" Regina asked, leaning slightly away in surprise.

"I trust you, Regina," Emma replied quietly, but with such belief, radiating strongly out of her. "You consider her someone you can trust, and that is enough for me."

Unable to respond with words at such incredible show her lover offered her, Regina leaned in and pressed her lips against Emma's, pouring everything she was feeling into the kiss, surprising both of them with the passion of the gesture, losing herself in the ardor of their connection, having missed it dearly. After some time spent in furious lip lock, she tried to pull away, quite aware that she had just ambushed Emma, but the Savior's hands kept her in place, one of them holding the back of her head, while other one was between her shoulder blades, pressing her into Emma's body. All the while, the Sheriff continued to kiss her with urgency and need, with consuming and unyielding desire threatening to engulf them both and burn them to cinders.

Suddenly, the blonde moved, her arms quickly changing their position and as she rose to her feet, Emma expertly held Regina to her chest, causing the brunette to yelp in astonishment, her cry of surprise immediately turning into gregarious laughter of mirthful exasperation when Emma dropped her onto the bed, joining her right after – her shocking move the perfect thing to break the tension their kiss had helped build up between them. The younger woman simply leaned over Regina and looked at her, her eyes shadowed by the poor light in the room, but even so, the former Evil Queen could see the scars on Emma's spirit the separation and war had dealt. It was a painful reminder of the fact Regina had known – it would take time before they could enjoy their time together, without shadows of past falling over them and turning their mood melancholic or outright morose.

Speaking nothing, Regina brought her hands up and gently, with soft cajoling in her touch, she brought Emma's head onto her shoulder, her lips landing on Emma's ear, while her hands wandered over the strong back, the movement comforting and warm. She didn't need to speak, for she knew the blonde was grateful for her understanding. And even if she hadn't, the warm tears washing down her neck would have been the answer enough. So, she made them both comfortable under the duvet, keeping them fully connected in a firm embrace, and went to sleep, her mind repeating the kind words of the friendly doctor back home in Storybrooke, about time and patience, and most of all Love. She was patient, and her love for Emma was without bounds.

If nothing else, in Brocéliande, they had time, such as it was.

---

For the moment, she could not see anything, still aware that she had gone to sleep in Regina's arms around her, their comforting weight on her back. But, quickly a familiar scene appeared in front of her, the place that she had been last before succumbing to Guardian's transportation spell.

It was bright around her, the rays of the low hanging Sun hitting the frozen snow, making it shine, its brilliance still visible, despite the battle raging. She stood at the edge of the cliff, not quite corporeal, right beside her own body clad into the black garb she had worn that day, while the air surrounding her body shimmered, due to magic rushing into her, and the world around her faded away, her friends and compatriots relegated to mere shadows at the edge of her consciousness while her eyes were able to see only one person clearly. Only the target for her rage, the devastating storm building inside of her, ready to be unleashed upon the woman who had caused her so much pain in short amount of time. In her mind, there was only one need – to destroy the redheaded menace of the Wicked Witch of the West, and everything else was irrelevant. She could feel everything that she had felt that very moment, even though she was still standing at the edge of the cliff while her memory unfolded.

Emma watched as the Savior made one staggering step forward, moving slowly, each second immeasurably drawn. She watched as her friends writhed in agony that she had caused them, she watched as her lover's father had been pushed away, and she felt her breath leave her – for she was watching herself be a wrathful creature of nightmares, something she had never thought she would be capable of becoming.

"This is a dream," Emma murmured to herself in disbelief as she delved deeper into the memory that had been hidden from her until now. She had a sense of her crimes, but the true account of them had been obscured by her suffering. The burn of the magic and the fever of the poison had kept her from remembering what she had done, but now, as she was recovering, it came forth – devastating her in process.

She remembered the very second her hand closed around Midas's windpipe and started squeezing, her hatred and anguished desire to punish him making her resistant to his magical hand, the power of gold helpless against the torrent that was her. She remembered the feel of her overused body, held up on her will alone as she stood there, and brought demise to the tyrannical king. She remembered his terrified eyes, swirling in their sockets, as he begged for mercy and help. And, she remembered how the enemy king had turned to ash in her grip, disappearing in the wind swirling around her, leaving no trace of his existence behind.

Jerking her hand away and gasping in horror, Emma sat up, her own reaction bringing her out of her dream into the present. Breathing heavily, the dread still keeping her blood cold, she pressed her hand against her thundering heart, consciously using her left, as her right one was still in front of her, an object of her horrified scrutiny, expecting to see blood and ash all over it, the scent of the life-giving liquid still too strong in her nostrils. But, it was only pale skin that met her eyes, wounds and dirt washed away by Regina's healing touch.

As if Emma's own thoughts had summoned her, the brunette brought herself closer to her beloved, startled awake by the sudden movement the blonde had made. Seeing the Sheriff leaning over her knees, her fast breaths loud in the quiet of the room, Regina did not even think but lifted her hand, intending to deliver soothing presence to the Savior. She had not been spared of her nightmares, but she had not woken in panic as Emma had. So, she reached for the blonde, almost expecting Emma to shy away from the touch; however, instead of evasion, Regina was met with the familiar magical pull, too strong for her to hold back, and in a blink of an eye, she found herself in a very familiar place. Bringing her hand to her forehead, feeling dizzy by the sudden change of scenery, Regina leaned against the desk in front of her, letting a chuckle loose the moment her eyes fell on what she was wearing. This particular pant suit Regina hadn't worn since the day of the adventure at the well, the strong reminder of the blonde Sheriff it carried had been enough to keep it in her closet during her Storybrooke days of their separation. Then, after she had gotten some bearing, she looked up and saw Emma sitting in her chair, staring at the hand in front of her in shock, clad in her traditional town outfit, skinny jeans and leather jacket.

"Interesting venue," Emma heard Regina say, noticing a tilt of amusement in her voice. "Although, I'd appreciate some warning next time." The voice didn't come from beside her as she expected, but from all sides and from within, like it usually did whenever they were deeply in their bond.

"Huh?" The blonde frowned and looked away from her hand, lifting her head to meet Regina's eyes, surprised to see her right beside her, leaning against the desk in her Sheriff office, bewilderment clearly pictured on her face.

"The meld, darling," Regina said patiently. "You pulled me in."

Emma shook her head slowly. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did, Emma, for it wasn't me," the brunette said gently, as she leaned toward the Sheriff and brought the rolling chair closer to the desk she was leaning on. Then, she motioned with her hand around the Sheriff's office, her gesture drawing Emma's eyes to take in the quite recognizable place. "Feeling a bit homesick?" the older woman asked, her voice lilting in amusement.

The Savior rose from the chair slowly, her head swiveling as she saw the truth in Regina's words. Indeed, she had brought them into a meld, and into this approximation of her office. Sighing softly, she walked to her window, pressing her hands at the wooden frame, looking outside at the Main Street of the town she had come to consider her home, her place in the world. At least, her thoughts idly suggested, she had proof that her magic was not gone… However, there was a reason she had brought them here, where she had felt in control and safe, and that need made itself clear when the memory bridge commenced, the random images of their past flashing on the surfaces around the two women.

Regina gasped as she felt her own mind filled with new information, most of it known through the diaries, but she learned that not even the most skilled wordsmiths could put to words every nuances one lived through, and even though Emma had tried earnestly to document everything, the mere words on the paper of the notebooks had been truly lacking to describe the events that had transpired. Even though the pictures rushed before her eyes with almost confusing speed, the emotional components of the events becoming known to her just as quickly, the brunette didn't lose sight of the Sheriff in front of her, noticing instantly the appropriate reactions to the past in Storybrooke and the two days in the Enchanted Forest after the battle. And, meeting startled green eyes, she nodded grimly, because she knew what Emma had learned seconds before. It is one thing to witness the explosion of the funnel of the portal, where your mind would insist that no one could survive such a thing, while your heart or at least one part of it would still believe that there was a chance of survival, a sliver of hope insisting that it wasn't quite over just yet. But, seeing and hearing one's heart stop – with no room for hope, because there is body shaped evidence of death in front of you – it's another thing altogether. And, Regina could sense, that even though Emma had just been bombarded by everything that had happened in Storybrooke, only most important details had remained at the front of her mind – the other things would come to her in time, when the blonde gets her bearing…

"You…" Emma gasped as her eyes garnered a glazy sheen that was gone with a single blink, tears sliding down the pale cheeks. "You… restarted…" She could no longer stand, her knees giving out under her and she collapsed onto the couch beside her, gripping the arm rest with her hand, her bone-white fingers sinking into the black faux leather, in effort to ground herself against the barrage of new knowledge and deeper understanding of Regina's pain. She had seen the tiredness and shadows on her beloved's face, but only now she could see the true depth of the wounds and bruises Regina's psyche had suffered.

"You kept mine beating," the Mayor murmured softly as she quietly sat beside her True Love, referencing Emma's valiant fight to keep the brunette alive against the manticore poison, patting Emma's knee lightly before leaning back, sighing as she glanced around and gathered strength to continue. Then, she grasped Emma's right hand, bringing it into her lap, holding it gently in her left, while the fingers of the right one traced the pale and still cold digits in her grasp. "And, you brought death to Midas with your hand," she whispered gently, clenching the limb in her hold against Emma's instinctive need to move it away. "Just because you brought his judgement to him, doesn't mean that you are something evil."

"If Rumple didn't stop me, I would've killed your sister," the blonde replied softly, her gaze pinned upon her hand, the shadows of her nightmare still present in her eyes, accompanied with the guilt, evident in the heavy sigh leaving her lungs.

"Zelena almost killed you, and only with your intervention did I survive her attempt to end my life. She killed innumerable soldiers in her own employ, as well as others in her way. She turned people into monkey slaves, sending them out to do her bidding blindly. In two months, she has managed to do more damage to this world that I had in all the years of my rule, and that is including the Dark Curse. And, to be honest, the Evil Queen did deserve to die for her crimes, many times over."

"It's not the same," the Savior murmured as she looked into the patient eyes of her beloved. "You changed."

Emma's words were followed by tense silence, while the two women held each other's gaze, unblinking. Regina then chuckled and looked away in wordless retreat, as she tried something else. "Why do you always jump so quickly to my defense with reasons and justifications, and won't allow me to do the same for you?" the former villain spoke with slight exasperation in her voice as she smiled sadly at the blonde. Shaking her head, she leaned into Emma's space, kissing her cheek affectionately before she answered her own question. "Perhaps, because it is easier to forgive someone else, rather than oneself."

Emma only nodded in agreement, sinking against the warmth Regina's body provided, letting her emotions transfer through their bond rather than speak them aloud. Her mind could accept the Mayor's reasoning, and the justification she had for executing Midas, but her heart was troubled by it. Not only the guilt was strong within her, she could still feel the terror her own dreams had inspired in her. And blood – she still could not shake off the ghostly feel of it over her hands, the invisible crimson searing her skin.

"You've seen my memories. You've seen the aftermath of your battle. You know it was the necessary thing to do." Regina brought the hand in her own to her lips, pressing a small kiss against the still cool skin.

Emma swallowed as she thought about the instances where Guardian and others had agreed with the death of the king. "It still doesn't make it easy…"

"You, of all people, know that right is never easy, Emma," Regina said sagely. "That is one of the reasons I am not going to object to you going into training with the knight this soon, even though you have just gotten back on your feet." She spoke suddenly, changing the topic of their conversation, deciding to depart from the heavy subject of morality of their wars. "I would like for you to rest for a while longer, get your bearing and start when you are ready and recovered completely, but we do not have that much time…" Looking into the still haunted eyes of her True Love, Regina smiled sadly. "I am not delighted nor eager to let you put on the burden of your calling just yet, but I know that this world needs you, now more than ever. I know you are meant for greatness. Who am I to deny the bright star to this world covered in darkness, part of it my own creation?" The brunette pushed the lock of her dark hair off her cheek, tucking it behind her ear as she watched the green eyes she loved so much cloud over in desperation.

"My True Love." The soft broken whisper of the Savior hurt the Mayor more than she anticipated; the white hot wound slashing over her heart, bringing tears to her eyes, as she was unable to take away the pain and burden Emma was carrying. She could help and soothe, but only the blonde could be and assume the duties of the Keeper of the Balance and the Savior.

"I can do that," Regina murmured as she gathered the weary woman in front of her in her arms. "I can take you out of these lands, gather our family and take the first bean out to Storybrooke, and even farther, if necessary," she spoke against Emma's temple, as her arms held her firmly. "Just say the word, and I'll do it immediately." She spoke the words the Emma had recorded of thinking in the cave with Guardian, gritting her teeth against the instinct to protect her beloved from the weights of her mantles. "One word, and I will let this world burn." Closing her eyes, Regina bit her lip when she heard a whimper leave the blonde in her arms, her nostrils widening in effort to stop herself from breaking down.

Suddenly, Emma pushed away from her arms, standing up. Her back were rigid and straight as she stood, several steps in front of Regina, her hands clenching and unclenching, her head held high despite the grinding teeth. The Mayor felt her lips pulled slightly to a side, in a grim half smile, as she watched the blonde assume the defiant stand, one that the brunette was intimately familiar with, for it was the posture that preceded every confrontation between them. She knew that Emma's chin had the daring tilt, while the green eyes were flashing in anger and stubbornness.

"No," fell harshly out of the blonde's mouth, tearing through the silence enveloping them. "No," Emma repeated as she turned around, her flashing eyes pinning Regina down in her seat. "No word is needed."

Regina only nodded, seeing the strong and commanding Savior in front of her, power radiating of her. It wasn't magic, but something innate, something that the Evil Queen had seen only with the true leaders – the core strength that drew people in and kept them away at the same time, inspiring awe and loyalty. She could finally see with her own eyes the Sheriff that commanded the admiration of the Empire and reverence of the Save Haven. However, due to their meld, Regina was allowed to see that it was only a mask – not unlike the war paint warriors would put on their faces before battle, her Emma still there underneath it. Still connected to her True Love.

"I know what you are doing," the Sheriff added softly, her countenance changing as she let her mask drop. Slowly, she returned to the couch, taking her previous seat, but this time she brought Regina to herself, placing her beloved's head onto her chest, right above the beating organ, her fingers idly playing with the dark tresses with affection filled with acceptance of Regina's words. The brunette knew that the gesture was much more meaningful than either of them wanted to admit out loud – for her, it was a new hope, symbol of her love's survival and strength, but for Emma, it was solace and acknowledgement of the wounds her duties inflicted on her. "Preying on my instinct to help them… Sneaky." As Regina only nodded, her movements making the jacket creak underneath, Emma lowered her head, leaning her lips against the forehead, humming in response. "We are going to finish this," the Savior spoke after a while, her words an oath. And, with it, she gently broke the link between them, returning them to their separate entities, still in their bed, in the darkness of the predawn.

Thoroughly awake after the meld, even though her skin was still buzzing from the receding terror of her nightmare and her own dormant magic instinctively awakened in her need of comfort, Emma glanced behind her, her eyes connecting with the brown ones, barely visible in the darkness of the room. Reaching behind her, she leaned into the soft hold of her beloved, pressing her lips onto the curve of Regina's jaw, breathing in her scent deeply, before she moved away, getting out of bed. It was time to face the day.

---

Even though it was still early, only minutes after the dawn, the small village deep in Brocéliande was alive with people who hurried along to finish their morning chores so they could get out of the harsh cold wind. And, although the warmth of their hearths was obviously calling to them, the remnant of the Camelot and Tintagel spared a few moments to speak to their queen as she would pass by them, on her way to the training grounds, a few hundred yards away from the village. And, Morgan, she would not deny her people her time, graciously greeting anyone who would come to her, patiently conversing on wide variety of topics, often drawing Regina into the conversation by asking her opinion on the matter, ignoring the awkwardness surrounding the younger queen, who had found herself teetering the line of suppressing her own royal persona in deference to her host and keeping her temper from flaring, characteristically her defense in uncomfortable and unfamiliar situations.

Having the forethought to send Emma, who would most likely hover overprotectively over her True Love, with Aileen and small group of soldiers on their own to the training grounds, Morgan had held Regina back, introducing her to the villagers and heaping many praises onto her guest, making sure that her people were very well acquainted to the younger woman, successfully completing the first steps in Regina's preparation for the title of the Heir already underway.

Half an hour earlier, when Morgan had left the Marble Hall with Aileen, in the weak light of lanterns and dawn, she had been surprised to find both Regina and Emma awake, waiting for her at the top of the stairs of the Marble House, and ready to tackle whatever she and the Wolf had planned for them that day. Although she had no doubt that the women would take her on her offer, Morgan had honestly believed that the True Love couple would meet them much later in the day, as they both had been in need of comfort only each other could provide. Greeting them with gentle affection, her welcoming smile slightly wider for Henry's child, the queen had summoned Percival and his men, and slowly they had set out to the training grounds, a small clearing not too far from the village, where all the soldiers kept themselves in shape, when they were off duty.

"So," Regina started softly as Morgan linked their arms as they went after the warriors. "What does all of this entail?" Making a vague gesture between them, the brunette looked into the amber eyes gleaming with quiet amusement as the older royal quirked her lips at the floundering attempt of encompassing their agreement.

"Well, ordinarily, I would take you in as an apprentice, needing years, if not decades to pass on all of the knowledge I have garnered from the people before me," Morgan said as she led them down the path. She continued quickly, forestalling Regina's question. "However, as we do not have that kind of time, I must resort to using a very old and dangerous enchantment that would enable me to teach you in the insignificant portion of the usual time."

Regina considered Morgan's words, keeping her silence as she looked in front of her. On one hand, Emma had been right, and she needed every advantage she could garner against her half-sister, and the magic of the Tintagel would bring balance of power to her relationship with the Savior; but, on the other hand, was the risk of the enchantment really worth taking, even for this? "I need to know exactly what the dangers are before I accept," she spoke softly as they arrived to a clear space in the forest, a perfect circle of cleared ground bordered with small fist-size rocks, about hundred feet in diameter. She received a short nod of acceptance from the older woman before Morgan gestured toward a small shelter near the line of the circle, where a single wooden bench stood underneath the cover, protected from the snow and the wind. There, as she sat with elegance of her position, joined by Morgan and Aileen, she looked at the blonde standing in the center of the makeshift arena, waiting to see what kind of test Percival had in mind.

---

Walking behind the last knight of the Round Table, taking the narrow walk path of cleared snow, Emma glanced back at her beloved lagging behind with the ruler of Brocéliande, slowing down her steps, but her intention to wait for the queens was interrupted by the strong grip of her shoulder forcing her forward as the Wolf healer came behind her.

"Don't mind them, they'll join us soon enough," Aileen spoke in grumbling whisper, removing her hand as Emma continued on. "How are you feeling?" the healer asked after several moments, her light steps bringing her side to side with the blonde, her curious eyes roving over Emma's frame, searching for any sign of unease or injury. A careless shrug of cloak covered shoulders and muttered 'Fine' brought a soft sigh as the woman rolled her eyes at the Savior, forgoing any further questions as they came upon the training grounds.

As soon as they reached the field, the men skipped toward the sheltered seats, only, Emma noticed, they did not duck under the cover of the wooden planks, but used their feet to push away the small layer of snow that the night wind had brought to the ground, uncovering something that looked as a metal trapdoor with a sturdy padlock keeping it closed. One of the soldiers knelt down and unlocked it and soon, the hatch was opened and Emma snorted as she realized what it was used for. There, on the inner side of the metal rectangle, various blades hang from multiple hoops keeping them secured. Quickly, the soldiers uncovered another panel, this one longer, and it held other kinds of sparing weaponry including staves and batons.

"I assume sword is your primary weapon?" came from right beside her, the unexpected voice making her turn sharply toward the man that had intruded upon her, and she saw the Knight standing beside her with his arms crossed, his eyes scrutinizing her posture as he waited for her answer. She wasn't blind to the sharp eyes taking in the way her gloved hand clenched around the hilt of the sword at her hip and the startled flinch his voice had brought out of her, but she chose not to comment on it, answering his question instead.

"Yeah," she confirmed, making a move to pull her sword out of the scabbard hanging of her side, but Percival's sharp hand gesture stopped her.

"You won't need that," he spoke quickly and dismissively, before he raised his voice, turning his head to the rest of his men. "Dai, find her a similar blade," he ordered, and Emma saw one of the soldiers turn to look at her before going to the rack with swords, picking one out, twirling it lightly as he stepped into the circle, walking to them and giving the blade to Percival with a slight bow to the Savior. "You should take that off, along with your weapon," the Knight suggested, pointing to her black cape, and as soon as he spoke, Aileen offered to carry her things onto the bench. Obeying the knight, Emma quickly removed her cloak, placing it over the Wolf's extended arms, along with her belt and sword, trusting the woman to bring her things to her love.

Standing in the middle of the clearing, clad in leather tunic she had purposefully chosen for this occasion, Emma took hold of the weapon Percival held out to her while she listened to his short instructions to fight off the men he would send at her the best she could, so he would see what level she was at.

With the corner of her eye, the blonde saw Regina walk toward the seats, but other than sparing a glance in her direction, Emma did nothing else to acknowledge her presence, focusing instead on the three men standing several feet away from her, brandishing their swords menacingly, though with certifiable skill. At Percival's short command, the middle one stepped forward, wasting no time to lounge at her, attacking. The Sheriff, anticipating such tactic, was prepared and easily parried, using her knowledge to quickly disarm the soldier. However, before she could glance toward the Knight with a gloating look, the other two men rushed her, both at once, their blades already moving fast and only her keen reflexes prevented her to be injured, sharpened by the adrenalin coursing through her blood. Nevertheless, regardless of her momentary stumble, she eventually managed to gain advantage over them and emerge victorious out of the match, using some of the underhanded moves Regina had shown her all those weeks before on the deck of the Jolly Roger. But, not without becoming tremendously winded in the process, and as the others yielded to her, lifting their empty hands in air in surrender, she glanced around to make sure no more surprises were coming her way, and then, she leaned over, pressing her hands onto her knees and gasping sharply, her blade hanging limply in her grip.

"You alright?" Percival asked with mild concern, crouching in front of the Savior in order to see her face, waving Aileen over the second he noticed her flushed skin, glossy with sweat, the harsh breaths too audible in the silence that followed his words. He wasn't at all surprised that both his queen and the guest rushed along with the shifter, the brunette almost pushing him out of the way, as she lowered herself to look at Emma.

Slowly reaching out to the blonde, her hand squeezing Emma's upper arm, Regina peered into the green eyes that focused onto hers with ease, having spared the Knight beside her a cutting look. "You think you can stand up now?" the former Evil Queen asked in hushed whisper, pitching her tone too low for others to hear, searching her beloved's face for an answer, ready to help any way she could. But, when she received a barely seen nod in return, Regina couldn't help but sigh in relief, the elation doubling when the Savior straightened by herself.

"Are you in any pain?" Aileen quickly asked as she scrutinized the blonde, her hand going upwards to touch the Sheriff's still sweaty forehead, chuckling when the answer came to her in a form of sharp head shake that also dislodged her palm of the heated skin. "You'll be just fine, Geilgeis," the shifter responded, gently tapping Emma's cheek. Then, she turned to Regina, including Morgan in her report. "She just needs to build up her energy reserves. Other than that, she is all right."

"Well, if your Majesties allow, I would like to continue," Percival spoke after several moments, after he had realized that no one knew what next to do, just standing there in the middle of the circle. Receiving permission from his queen, he turned toward the Savior, glancing over her appreciatively, noticing that even though the sword was being held loosely in the Sheriff's gloved hand, the grip was secure and Emma ready to jump into the sparring stance at the moment's notice, despite the still slightly deeper breaths she was taking. "You didn't have just one teacher, did you?" he asked the Savior shrewdly, as he slowly stepped around the blonde, remembering Emma's peculiar fighting style that was amalgam of various forms of swordsmanship. "Correct me if I am wrong, but at least one of your teachers hails from the Empire," he spoke after a moment, pausing his scrutiny. "But, others, I cannot distinguish."

"Is it important?" the Sheriff asked gruffly, irritated by the self-satisfied tone that had crept into the voice of the knight.

"No, but I am curious."

"Is your curiosity relevant for my training?" The sharp green eyes pinned the Knight, as the brusque manner the words were spoken was warning enough to drop the subject. She didn't mind him, but she wasn't about to share things about herself that were not necessary no matter how some were curious. Especially not just minutes after she had barely managed to keep the soldiers' blades of her neck, the surprise of their attack almost costing her life.

"He means well, Savior," Morgan spoke, placing her hand onto her Knight's shoulder placating the guest, stopping her loyal subject from responding. "Do not take his eagerness against him." Then, she turned to leave, her arm once more intertwined with Regina's, her look sweeping over the Wolf healer, her Knight and the blonde. "I leave you in the capable hands of my friends, so you could talk further on what is to be done to aid your recovery, Sheriff, as we go in our way."

---

After another half hour of slow walk over the undisturbed snow, Morgan stopped and turned around, her eyes searching for something, before she murmured a soft litany of words, too low for Regina to understand and suddenly, the fallen white substance rose in the air, swirling around them, clearing the path the two of them had made and uncovering a large flat rock block, about one foot thick, its borders covered with elvish script. However, before the former Evil Queen could focus on the symbols, they started glowing and under Morgan's direction, the slab of stone split in half and separated, uncovering a staircase, not unlike the one leading to Regina's lair, under the mausoleum in Storybrooke.

"Follow me," the Queen of Brocéliande spoke as she stepped into the secret entrance, and Regina quickly hurried after, wincing when the stone gate closed shut above her with a deep and ominous thud. "This is the Temple of Knowledge, and one part of it is named the Chamber of Records - where the rulers of the line kept the archives the individuals Merlin called the Authors would compile. Here, within the safety of the Brocéliande borders, lies all the knowledge of my people and all their riches." The amber eyes met the dark one in the soft light of the tunnel, where magical crystals provided elimination under Morgan's silent direction. "Here is where you will become the Heir of the line."

"I haven't accepted yet," Regina reminded the older woman respectfully, as she followed her deeper into the temple, entering into a large room with walls mostly hidden in darkness. "You still have to show me the enchantment."

"And so I shall." The regal woman smirked gently at her future pupil, her eyes glinting in the light. "But, before I do so, allow me to point out another important task of you becoming part of the Tintagel." Showing Regina to a seat, the dark skinned woman sat across from her and steepled her fingers in front of her face, keeping her keen eyes onto the former Evil Queen. "Last night, I have warned you that both you and Emma must accept this honor." As her guest offered no interjection, Morgan continued. "Your bond, your ability to see into each other minds, is, in fact complicating matters largely and the only way to offset an intricate and rather difficult procedure of initiating Emma into the fold is to perform special bonding rites before you endure the oath-swearing."

"What do you mean, bonding rites?"

"A marriage, if you will," the Queen of Camelot spoke gently, as she leaned toward the younger woman, taking her hand. "I understand your experience with such matters leaves a lot to be desired, but it is the only way to proceed without exposing your True Love to truly exhausting trials."

Snatching her hand out of the gentle grip, Regina sprung to her feet. "Marriage?" she shouted, her voice sharply reverberating in the large spaces of the temple. Stepping away from the other woman, she brought her hands to her face, rubbing her eyes as she paced the length of the room she was in. "I am not…" she started before her voice broke under the uncertainty that grasped her. Marriage? She just had gotten Emma back, and they had not yet started living together – leaving it for the still hazy future of Storybrooke. It seemed that the both members of the True Love couple followed unspoken agreement not to discuss the bounds of their relationship, not until all the dangers of the Enchanted Forest belonged in the past and they had peace to fully realize what their connection truly meant. Yes, Regina had remodeled her mansion in order to make it homier for the blonde, but it did not mean she was ready to walk down the aisle. She didn't know if she ever would be, the memories of her last wedding overshadowing much of her thoughts on the subject.

And, Emma had never mentioned anything on the topic of this, ardently avoiding talking about the distant future, accepting their bond on intuitive level and just going with it, in typical manner of her brash Sheriff. Would she even accept it?

But, before she could even ask herself that question, her mind – her memories – the amazing connection she had with the Savior provided the answer to her and it was a resounding Yes. And, before her thoughts could consolidate in a firm argument that would indeed prove Emma's willingness in this, Morgan spoke.

"You are already bound by the highest authority this, or any other, world can offer. You are True Loves and that is final – everything else is just ceremony…"

"Then, why is it necessary for us to go through the rites?" Regina drew attention to the point of confusion.

Morgan inclined her head and smiled. "I did say special bonding rites. They are created to afford the uninitiated their equality and suitability under our laws, which you already know that are governed by the magic." As her eyes fell onto the creased forehead of the brunette still standing in the far corner of the room, the elegant royal spoke again. "It has nothing to do with the legality of your bond, but with the integrity of the defenses of the Tintagel line."

Regina sighed, before chuckling with dark amusement. "Snow is going to be very insulted by this."

"What, you marrying her daughter in secrecy, in the place she doesn't even know that exist?"

The reminder that Brocéliande was off limits to the outsiders stopped Regina's amusement. "Oh, right. That."

"Do not despair, little afal," Morgan smiled as she lifted her hand to summon the younger woman to her side. "Only Brocéliande must remain secret, as well as the secrets of my heritage. All else, you may share with your compatriots." Her lightly raised eyebrow and piercing gaze brought a slight tinge to Regina's cheeks as she felt the slight reprimand in the tone of the elder queen – her intention of using her newly garnered knowledge to upstage the pure image of Snow White firmly dashed.

Considering the brunette suitably chastised - the royal rose elegantly from her seat and walked deeper into the temple, gesturing to Regina to follow as she guided them through a long corridor into another room, this one much larger, filled with books and scrolls. Shelves upon shelves, covering each surface of the room but the floor and ceiling, were full of documented histories, spells, grimoires and many other things. The crystals that provided light were strewn across the floor and the shelves, creating eerie shadows as they walked on. But, it was bright enough for Regina to see clearly each title of every book she glanced at. So this must be the Chamber of Records, Regina thought to herself as her head swiveled around to grasp the grandiosity and extensiveness of the place. And, in one corner there was a small table with several chairs, an additional lantern situated on the flat surface of the wooden desk. As soon as the women drew near to it, with a sudden flick of her fingers, the hostess summoned one of the large tomes of magic, the heavy metal encrusted book landing loudly upon the table. Using her hands, Morgan found the page she was interested in and using her finger to turn the book to face the brunette, she pointed it to Regina. "All there is to know about the ritual is written here," she spoke, as she moved to light the wick in the lantern beside her to provide more luminosity around them.

Taking the simple gesture as the invitation to study the enchantment, the brunette leaned over the old pages, drawing a chair to sit in it so she could completely focus on the lines of elvish inscribed in the ancient tome. She needed a moment to understand the language, and while her eyes passed over the still unreadable text, Regina noted the apparent age of the tome and the muskiness of the magic-treated paper. Even with the protections and anti-age spells on the book, the brunette could see that the tome was ancient. The ritual itself wasn't a much complicated one, she saw after the elvish lines started making sense to her, but the preparation for it was and the execution demanded precision and endurance from both sides. And, if she was reading it rightly, it would take over four full days to complete it, without any interruption, quite possibly more. "I assume this is why it is so dangerous?" the brunette asked as she pointed to the manner of performing the ritual. "The magical and ordinary exhaustion?"

"Yes, among other things." Morgan lowered herself into another chair, considering her companion. "But, I firmly believe that both you and I can endure it without much trouble. From what I have seen you do while saving Emma from that infernal mist – I do think you have more than what it takes to complete the ritual safely." She then cocked her head, her eyes gazing pointedly at the other woman as she spoke again, her tone one of warning. "Do not take this lightly. The knowledge and teachings of my people, garnered through generations and generations of sorcerers of Tintagel learning and discovering things not only about magic will be imparted to you in mere days. There is a reason why no one was willing to undergo the trials of the enchantment before. It will test you; it'll push you to the very last edge of your endurance, in order to prepare you for the might of the craft. It will be extremely harrowing, Regina, on both your mind and your body, and you will not be able to stop. Nor would anyone but you and I be there, as the ritual is quite sacred and secret."

The brunette nodded. "Emma is not going to like this," she murmured softly into her chin before she closed the book, her fingers pausing lightly over the inlaid surface of the cover.

"I assume it would be much disquieting for her that you would be undergoing this dangerous and untried thing alone," Morgan agreed.

"Oh, not that," Regina shook her head as she focused on the elder Queen. "She knows that I am not about to do something reckless or stupid, least of all for the sake of having more power." As her mind traveled back to the evening before and their conversation at the foot of their bed, Regina smiled, for she knew Emma had unwavering faith in her. "It is the length of time this ritual will take that she will not like. Honestly, I am not keen on it, either." When the amber eyes widened in understanding, the brunette added. "It has only been two days…"

"We do not have to do this right away, Regina."

The Mayor raised her eyebrow at the concession the other royal was offering her, even though she had heard the servant girl's news about the borderline failing. "But, you would prefer it done immediately, before the magic of the stones completely evaporates," she said pointedly, noticing a slight wince in the eyes of the elder woman.

"That is true," Morgan confirmed softly.

"Then, we will not wait," Regina decided. "The longer we dally, the harder it will be for us to start." Her voice ringed with certainty as she rose from her seat, directing herself to the exit, not waiting for the other woman. She wanted to go to the blonde immediately, and inform her about everything before secluding herself for the purpose of the ceremony.

---

Emma raised her hand with her palm outward, the sharp motion stopping her opponent in place, his sword only inches away from her blade, frozen in the attack position. "Give me a moment," the blonde murmured as she lowered her weapon, easing the strain on her arm muscles that were shivering from the exertion.

"Perhaps, you should try switching hands," the Knight of the Round Table suggested as he drew himself closer to the Savior, sheathing his blade. "As it is light enough to be handled with one arm, it can only give you additional advantage to be able to use it left-handed," he added, pleased to note that the woman considered his proposition with seriousness before she transferred her weapon to the other arm, easily adjusting her stance accordingly. "So, shall we try?"

After receiving a confirming nod, he returned into position and gripped the hilt of his sword, the clear sound of the metal leaving the scabbard spreading through the air of the clearing. Without delay, he started his approach, although he did it in slower rate in concession to the blonde, but when the Sheriff attacked him with deft and clearly practiced moves, forcing him to step back and hold firmer on to his blade, he realized that the woman in front of him was quite aware of the advantages of being dual-wielding swordsperson. Also, the attack was quicker and with more strength as the blonde had been favoring her left side. However, the Savior, despite her skilled moves, had to stop too soon, her energy dwindling too fast, unable to support her continuous sparring.

As soon as he noticed her getting flushed again, he fell back, motioning for a break. "Your bouts are getting longer," he commented, as he witnessed Emma's irritated downswing that left the blade sticking in the ground. "And, you need less time to get your breath." He had to chuckle when the Savior growled at him in frustration, shaking her arms to loosen up her muscles.

"It has been less than two hours," the shifter spoke from behind them, making them both start at her silent approach. She gave Emma her cloak to keep herself warm during the break, patting the blonde's shoulders gently. "The progress you have shown in this short time is remarkable. You need only give it time before you are returned to your previous levels, or become even better. Time and patience."

The last words caused Emma to scowl at the other woman, but the grimace left her face as soon as the new voice pierced the quiet of the training ground. "I am afraid that patience is a virtue our esteemed Sheriff does not possess," Regina spoke clearly, arriving to her beloved's side, having caught the last of Aileen's encouragement. Offering a smile to the shifter in greeting and a nod to the Knight, the brunette placed her hand on Emma's forearm, her smile widening as the blonde pulled her closer, keeping their bodies barely touching. "We need to talk," she whispered softly to Emma, letting the other two turn toward the Mistress of the Marble Hall.

"Come find me after lunch, Regina," Morgan spoke up, noticing a look of consternation passing over Emma's expressive face, the green eyes firmly locked with the brown. "Both of you, if you want," she offered graciously, recognizing the fact that the Sheriff might have questions of her own regarding the procedure – her bond with Regina making any kind of excuse that such things could not be discussed with outsiders moot.

Glancing up to the Sun to judge how much time they had, Regina nodded in acquiescence, before she grabbed Emma's hand. "If you would excuse us," she murmured as she pulled the Sheriff away, guiding them not to the Marble Hall and subsequently their room, but to the viewpoint on the cliff, choosing one of the benches to sit on. She did not speak, even though both of them were on the bench, the quiet of their surroundings only intercepted by the soft sounds of the lively village reaching them.

The blonde watched closely at the face of the woman she loved, frowning at the uncertainty that haunted the chocolate eyes she adored, but she waited – Regina's earlier words about her patience belied in the simple gesture. Throwing her elbows back onto the wall safeguarding the cliff behind her, the hard edge of the rock softened by her cloak, she raised her head and closed her eyes, enjoying the warm rays of sunlight caressing her face, giving the other woman time to collect her thoughts. Just being in Regina's presence was rewarding, the blonde noted, as she could feel her body reacting to the closeness, soaking up the warmth and energy the other woman provided unconditionally. But, she could also feel that Regina's trepidation was easing with each moment spent together. And, if she was not mistaken, her True Love had already garnered her thoughts well enough to start the conversation.

"What are your thoughts on marriage?" Regina asked unexpectedly, the out-of-nowhere topic forcing Emma to open her eyes and focus on her beloved.

"Marriage?" Emma tried to stall, but the pleading look the brunette directed at her stopped her from doing so.

"Answer me," Regina urged softly.

She didn't answer immediately, for her first reply would have been something sarcastic or deflecting, but as she took in the white teeth nibbling worriedly on the lower lip, she considered her response carefully. "I assume you are not interested on my thoughts on it in general?" Emma inquired gently, receiving a nod for an answer. "As far as I am concerned, our lives are so much intertwined, bound in ways that the marriage as a formality is completely unnecessary. Would I like to get married, officially? I don't know." She noticed Regina's frown and immediately sought to remove it, reaching for the brunette's hands, bringing them to her chest. "Not because I don't want it, but because I am afraid of what circus it will turn into under the direction of my mother." Visibly shuddering at the monstrosity of a dress her mind conjured for her, she shook her head before continuing, disregarding Regina's haughty smirk at the mention of Snow's production. "If it were up to me, and only me, I would like it, but only if you are fully alright with it."

Regina felt herself melting with affection at Emma's care for her feelings on the topic, and deciding to show it, she leaned in and laid a chaste kiss upon the blonde's lips, keeping their hands between them. "The reason I ask is…" she started slowly, but then she stopped, realizing that it sounded shallow. Getting married so she could attain the title of the Heir? Hadn't her mothed done the same by marrying her off to Leopold?

But, before she could spiral into the recriminations of her mind, a firm squeeze of fingers holding her own brought her attention to Emma. The blonde's eyes were peering into her, as if she was capable of seeing into her brain, and judging how the Sheriff had known her every facet, she had no doubt that it was at least partially true. "Before you tell me the reason for this conversation, tell me this – could you see yourself married to me, before this day?" Emma asked gently, as she slowly released Regina's hands and brought her own to the other woman's shoulders.

"Yes," Regina breathed out in relief as she realized that she had, indeed, thought about being married to Emma before. The whole change of power structure in the township of Storybrooke had been inspired by her unvoiced thoughts and silent desires to marry the blonde Sheriff one day in the future. "Absolutely," she added as she saw Emma's knowing smirk.

"Then, there is no need to worry about what has brought this on, is there?" Emma whispered, her smirk getting wider.

Chuckling breathlessly at the impish look Emma directed at her, Regina lifted her head and brought her hands to the blonde's cheeks, holding them gently as her fingers glided tenderly over the pale skin. "I love you," she murmured in half whisper, delighting in the pleased crinkle of Emma's eyes the words caused.

"I know," Emma replied with another joyous smirk, before she added roguishly. "You want to marry me." Even though Emma was not being entirely serious about it, using the light humor to ease the significant turn their conversation had taken, the brunette could not continue in the same manner as the Sheriff. "I do," left her lips in a gasp. "By all we hold dear, I do."

The momentous confession of the former Evil Queen had the power to stop the Savior from breathing, her breath catching in her throat before she gasped in wonder, her eyes tearing up at the love she could see shining out of the most beautiful brown eyes. "Me too," she said.

Shifting her hold on Emma's cheeks, her fingers sliding down toward the blonde's neck, gently twining into the loose tendrils of the slightly damp hair, the former Evil Queen pulled her beloved closer, lowering her lips onto the Savior's. It wasn't a passionate lip lock, but it was deeply heartfelt and soul moving, confirming their absolute devotion to each other and their agreement on the subject. Enjoying their soft lips moving together, Regina sighed in amazement, moaning quietly in appreciation when Emma's arms slid over her shoulders, pressing their fronts against each other. Having lost her breath, the brunette let her head fall onto the strong, fur covered shoulder, nuzzling her nose into the warmth of Emma's neck, her arms wrapping around the other woman's middle.

"Now that we've settled this," Emma started after a while, having grown uncomfortable in the position she was in, her muscles protesting the lack of movement. "May I ask what prompted it?"

Not moving away from the soft embrace, Regina relayed everything she had learned that morning, her voice not louder than a whisper. Even as the muscles beneath her touch tensed in reaction, the brunette did not stop until she shared all facts in her knowledge. However, the short-tempered response she had been expecting never came up; the Sheriff was sitting there in uneasy silence for a long instance of time, before a deep rooted sigh left her, and with it some of the tension in her body. "If that is what needs to be done…" the blonde murmured in acquiescence, suddenly sounding weary.

"You don't mind?" Regina couldn't stop herself from uttering in surprise, the blonde's lack of displeasure befuddling her. Immediately after, she was faced with Emma's pointed look, her green eyes flashing with barely restrained anger, the muscles under the brunette's touch vibrating with it.

"I mind, Regina," the Sheriff groused in exasperation, frustration rolling of her tense frame in waves. "I do mind, but it isn't like I have any say in this. It's not something you and I can afford to say no to." Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, she lifted her hand to her forehead, rubbing it, her sigh brimming with resignation. "At least, you're not in a different world..." Offering her beloved a crooked smile, weighted down with responsibilities of their roles in this world and war, Emma sighed again. "I'll deal."

The former Evil Queen hesitantly nodded, not knowing how to respond, for Emma had said all there was to say. And, even though the blonde's odd calmness had thrown her, Regina quickly came to understand that her True Love was tired and that forced lack of reaction was due to Emma's desire to avoid pointless waste of her energy, rather than her willing acceptance of the situation. However, Emma's dissatisfaction was obvious, despite the Savior's earnest tries to tamp it down. And, knowing her beloved, the instinct to bottle up everything would be rampant, especially now when she is fragile and not a hundred percent. Which begged a deep and painful conversation regarding their feelings and vulnerabilities – two topics they were incredibly fond of discussing, Regina remarked to herself sarcastically.

"Emma, I don't think…" she started speaking, but the blonde abruptly jumped to her feet, interrupting her and shrugging off the hold Regina had on her.

"I believe we have a lunch to go to," the Savior spoke sharply, starting to walk away from the viewpoint in the direction of the Marble Hall, her tense posture enough of the warning for Regina to stop trying to instigate any more conversations. Scowling at being readily dismissed by the blonde, the former Evil Queen rose to her feet and slowly followed her beloved, firmly promising to herself that their talk was far from over, intending to continue it at the first opportunity.

---

Later that evening, the Savior found herself sitting at the small table in a small room on the ground level of the House of Healing, the only other person in it beside the young apprentice who had helped with her recovery. Wincing at the sharp sting the lotion caused the second it came in touch with the deep cut running along her left forearm resting against the wooden surface of the table, Emma closed her eyes, not looking at her still bleeding injury – trusting Gwen enough to deal with it by herself. The young healer had promised that with the help of special lotions and binding methods, there would not be even a scar in several days, let alone any other evidence of her accident. And, they could avoid stitching the wound altogether. Surrendering herself to the girl and her gentle ministrations, the blonde focused instead on the soft voices of the two people arguing in front of the room, their hushed conversation heard clearly in the small quarters.

"She should not be allowed back in the field, She-Wolf," Emma heard the knight hiss angrily. "I don't care who she is, I will not let someone who is clearly a danger to herself and others wield swords."

"Come now, Percival, it was only a moment of distraction," Aileen's cajoling whisper reached them undistorted. "Given the fact that it has been a busy day, it is understandable."

"It was more than that, and you know it! She checked out, in the middle of the fight." A brief pause followed, where Emma imagined that the knight did something to show his vexation, which was followed by a deep sigh, probably from the shifter. "I've seen it before, and always with the warriors who had lost their spirit… They would be either killed off shortly afterwards due to losing their head at the precisely wrong time, or they would never pick a weapon again. But, they would always be very different from the people they had been before."

As soon as the knight stopped speaking, Emma felt eyes on her face, and turning to look at the healer, she noticed the sad scrutiny the girl had subjected her to. But, instead of commenting, the healer lowered her eyes and returned to the wound, careful not to cause the Savior undue pain, her nibble fingers applying the healing ointment. Spared the need to justify herself, the blonde only sighed, remembering the exact moment the knight had spoken of.

With her urging, both Percival and Aileen had met her at the training grounds right after the meal. There, under the shifter's cautious eyes, she worked on her endurance, each bout lasting longer and longer, suggesting an immediate improvement. However, later in the afternoon, under the last rays of the Sun, she had faltered, her slight loss of control over the situation earning her the cut on her arm, as she had not been fast enough to escape Percival's blade. And, then, something had happened.

It was the scent of blood, noticeable under other smells around her, followed by the sharp pain of the cut, which did something to her. She was flung back in time, her mind returning to the day on the cliff, and suddenly, she wasn't facing Percival but Zelena and Midas. She could feel the burn of her magically overused body, she could smell the blood and sweat lifting off her skin… She could see her enemies right in front of her, and even though they were fuzzy around the edges and not really recognizable, as if she had been looking through the thick veil of smoke, she knew it was them. And she needed to stop them. She paid no heed to the shouts of her name, oddly distant and distorted, her eyes looking forward, pinned at her goal.

Despite the sluggishness that had settled in her body, Emma stepped onward, letting the sword slip out of her hand, as she brought it in front of her, her memory already supplying her with the solution of how to put an end to the tyrannical king. So, she reached for the man in front of her, her fingers digging into his throat as she tried to channel what was left of her magic, but for some reason nothing was happening. Then, she felt something hit her hand, and suddenly she found herself on the ground, her face pressed into the snow, her arms twisted behind her while someone's knee was digging into the small of her back.

The coldness of snow melting against her face had been what had cleared her mind, returning her to present, where she had realized that the restraining pressure on her back had been Percival holding her down, for both his and her own safety.

"I'll talk to her," Emma heard the Wolf say, rolling her eyes at the forcefully reasonable tone of the shifter, obviously intended for the knight, to get him to calm down and let her deal with the Savior.

However, before Aileen entered the room, Emma's attention was drawn back to the healer at her side, the uncomfortable throbbing of her wound making her look at the other woman – who had used the moments of Emma's distraction to bind it with bandages, putting down finishing touches on the strips of cloth around the Savior's arm. "It needs to stay dry, and I'll change it in the morning," Gwen noted softly as she gathered her supplies along with bloody rags the Savior had used to stem the flow of the precious liquid and rose from the stool she had been sitting on.

"Thank you," the blonde offered gratefully, lightly touching the bandages that were covering her entire forearm. The young apprentice smiled in response and ducked out of the room, her exit letting Aileen know that it was safe to enter.

"So," the shifter started, taking the seat Gwen had used earlier, intentionally sitting that close to the blonde who hadn't moved from her place. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?" the Sheriff replied coolly as she looked over the ruined sleeve of her shirt, already crusted over and dark brown.

"You know exactly what I mean, Geilgeis!" Aileen spread her palms over the wooden surface of the table, calming herself down, before she continued. "You disappeared back there and almost killed Percy. This is not something I am going to ignore or let aside." She watched as the Savior clenched her jaw, making the muscles bulge out visibly under the lamp light in the room. "This needs to be dealt with."

"I am," Emma spoke sharply as she directed her cold gaze toward the healer, bearing her teeth in a snarl, "fine."

"You are not," Aileen replied unperturbed. "And, the longer you keep ignoring it, the worse it will get. Are you really willing to risk your loved ones in such way?" She leaned toward the blonde. "Do you really want to be in the position to strangle your children if something sets you off?" The knowing look of the Wolf pinned Emma, but the Sheriff wasn't cowered, her icy green eyes glinting with ire as she leaned toward the shifter.

"Leave them out of this," she threatened before she sprang out of her seat.

"Geilgeis, you have been in my custody for mere five hours and you are already injured and have tried to kill somebody," Aileen replied with suffering patience, reaching for the Savior's uninjured arm to hold her back, not surprised that the blonde swirled around at the contact.

"In your custody?" Emma hissed with outrage as she stepped closer to the shifter, making the other woman step back. "In your custody?!" the blonde repeated louder, making the healer cringe and move another step back. "You are not my keeper, Wolf, nor my wet-nurse," she sneered at the older woman, enjoying the flash of unease and fear in the strange eyes.

"I didn't mean it like that," the healer tried to placate the blonde, but Emma scoffed and turned away, ready to leave the room. However, when Aileen spoke next, her words froze her in place. "Sheriff, the woman my grandmother told me about was calm, respectful and kind. Capable of inspiring people with the strength of her spirit and ability to gain loyalty of the crowds. The woman she told me about was worthy of being called the Savior and the Sheriff." The shifter sighed as she watched the Savior listen to her in silence, her fists clenched beside her tense body. "You are not that person," she added in gentle tone, afraid of setting the blonde off, taking a small step deeper in the room, away from the danger. "I don't think that even you recognize yourself anymore… Angry, explosive, violent… You are not yourself, Geilgeis, and you know that."

"And, what if you are right?" Emma suddenly spoke, turning her head just to glance at Aileen over her shoulder.

The shifter moved slowly toward the tense woman, ignoring her own flaring instincts, hoping she would be able to capitalize on Emma's momentary willingness to listen. "You must see the danger you pose like this. You must know the value in dealing with whatever that is troubling you head on. The fate of this world depends on it."

The Savior sighed, shaking her head at the older woman's dramatic statement, before she turned around and raised her hand in invitation. "How do you plan to help me?" she asked, her anger evaporating, leaving her drained and in pain, the abuse she had willfully done to her body earlier in the training circle making itself known, made worse by the blood loss she had suffered.

"I need to know what happened," Aileen insisted gently as she reached for the Sheriff, noticing her paleness for the first time since she had entered the room. With care, she guided the blonde to her seat, considering calling Gwen back in, but she wasn't going to risk missing the opportunity to talk to Emma without shouting or fearing for her life. "I need to know what triggered it, and where you went."

"He cut me," Emma murmured tiredly as she leaned back and closed her eyes, wincing when the back of her head connected with the hard surface of the wall behind her, the slight hit bringing the low grade headache she had been fighting for past hour to the fore. "He cut me and I was taken to the moment when I killed Midas," she added.

Aileen frowned. "Because of the pain?"

"No," Emma replied as she looked at the Wolf. "Because of the blood," she explained, before she closed her eyes again. "I could smell it, along with other things," the Savior spoke, her nostrils widening in offence as her mind offered her the memory of the scent, the odor of the dry blood whiffing off her shirt only adding to it. "Let's just say nothing good is happening whenever I smell it," Emma said, glancing at the shifter, her words carrying the weight of her memories and dreams. It's not like I haven't spilled enough of it by myself, the blonde thought with a mirthless chuckle. Peter's thugs in Neverland, the trolls, the Ogres, Midas' soldiers, the Empire soldiers, the simians… And that is since she had found herself out of Storybrooke. Needless to say, her past had blood in it, as well. "I guess it brought some things back," the blonde concluded wearily.

"Is there a particular reason for you to be brought into that time?" the shifter asked slowly, considering Emma's words.

The Sheriff only shrugged her shoulders before she brought her hand to her eyes, rubbing them with her fingers. Then, she rose to her feet, staggering slightly as she worked her stiffened leg muscles, ignoring the way the walls tilted in her vision. When the firm hold of the other woman's hand brought her stability, the strong palm wrapped around her upper arm, she only glanced to her left in gratitude, forgoing her stubborn insistence that she was quite capable of walking to her room alone, for she knew that she couldn't.

"Will you be able to sleep?" Aileen asked softly as she deposited the Savior on the bed, quickly lighting the lantern hanging of the sconce beside her. "I could mix up something for you," she offered after the blonde shook her head glumly. "You need the rest."

"No," the Savior grumbled, pulling off her boots, and as she noticed the shifter's expression, she continued quickly. "Sleeping aids would not make me rest, Wolf. They would only offer me a place to hide, and right now, the temptation is too great to resist." It was her reasoning that stopped the healer from insisting, leaving the blonde to her rest, murmuring that she would organize for food to be sent down a bit later.

Sighing against the steady drumming of the headache in her temples, Emma lifted her legs onto the bed, sinking into the comfortable mattress, her long suffering sigh turning into a painful whimper as the tense frame of her body relaxed. However, despite the fact that she was exhausted, her mind refused to settle down, the events of that afternoon plaguing her. So, in effort to distance herself from it, Emma used one of the meditation techniques she knew to focus her thoughts on what she had learned from Regina, calling forth the memories of her children, seeing them through her beloved's eyes.

When the young man who had shown her and Regina the room, Keith, brought down a platter of food an hour later, along with the cloak and her sword she had left in the field, the blonde murmured her thanks, not moving. She didn't feel hungry and the twinges in her limbs dissuaded her from unnecessary motion, so she remained on the bed, keeping her mind occupied, while her body rested, consciously managing her breathing. Emma noted to herself in inner recesses of her mind that the Empire Hero deserved a worthy prize for the favor she had done to the Savior, teaching her how to meditate herself into tranquility and think.

The Wolf had been right, the Sheriff considered as she thought back on that day. She had been explosive, even in Regina's presence, earning her quite a few cautioning looks and frowns from the brunette, and other people. At first, she had thought she was unsettled, first because of the illness she had suffered and then, the dream that had shook her more that she had anticipated. But, as she considered what had happened during the lunch with Morgan, and later with Percy, she couldn't write off her irritation and jumpiness on her health.

Emma had been downright hostile to the Queen of Camelot, her barbed questions bordering on rude as she had asked further elaborations on the spell she had been about to perform on Regina. And, even though the dark skinned sorceress had been patient with her, Emma's True Love, on the other hand, hadn't been.

"What's gotten into you?" Regina hissed at her, gripping her upper arm tightly enough to leave the imprint of her hand. The blonde had just postulated that the two of them ended up in Brocéliande solely to provide Morgan with an opportunity to recruit a new Heir for the Tintagel Line. So, Regina had excused themselves politely from the table, pulling the blonde out of the room, seething at the Sheriff's behavior. "I get that you are frustrated, Emma," the Mayor started but Emma interrupted her.

"Don't you think that all of this is just too convenient?" Emma returned in urgent whisper. "That supposedly, the Mistress of the House of Healing could not figure out how to heal me, but she knew enough to keep me in the magically powered room, managing to do so within seconds of my arrival here, so I wouldn't die? That she needed you, who had never dealt with this before, to tell her what to do?" Swiftly ripping her arm out of the brunette's hold, she raised her hands in the air as she allowed her sarcasm to surface with vengeance. "And, oh, by the way, you know – you could return the favor by becoming the next Heir."

"What happened to you trusting me?" The softly murmured words filled with hurt were enough to put a stop to Emma's tantrum, freezing her in spot.

Looking into the dark eyes swirling with barely hidden pain and disappointment, Emma opened her mouth, but no words could come out. She had nothing to say that would justify her thoughtless behavior, especially since they had come to an agreement less than an hour before, where she had promised to deal with the ramifications of their another separation without much complaint. "I," she managed to force through her tight throat, "am sorry," as she reached for her beloved, her knuckles gently passing over Regina's cheek. "Just," she sighed deeply when Regina did not move to accept her apology. "Things keep happening, and…" She had reacted with deep seeded suspicion and anger, the way she would have reacted several years before, whenever she would have found herself floundering, unsure of whom to trust. Apparently, she had been unsettled enough to pull one of her defense mechanisms she hadn't needed to use in two years, ever since she had found her family in Storybrooke. But, the problem with this method was that it didn't take the feelings of those closest to her into account, doing more harm than good in this situation. Like just then, insulting Regina's ability to take care of herself instead garnering her support. "I am sorry," she repeated softly as her hand lowered, and swallowing hard, she turned to leave, knowing that if she stayed she might make things even worse.

However, before she could even make a step, she felt a light press of fingers gliding down her shoulder blade. Before she could even question it, Regina brought her front to Emma's tense back, circling her arms around her middle, keeping her in place. "I know things are so far away from okay right now, but I need you to keep your calm, Emma," the brunette whispered gently into Emma's ear. "Use the time apart to get better and then we'll get to the bottom of this." And, with softly murmured 'I love you' Regina hugged her strongly before she kissed her. "I'll see you in five days," the former Evil Queen said in lieu of goodbye.

"See that you do," the Savior remarked firmly, thoroughly enjoying the self-satisfied smirk Regina directed at her in response.

Regina was right, the blonde concluded to herself in the silence of her room as she sat up in the bed. Her first priority had to be her health before she started exploring the facts and theories of her arrival to Brocéliande. And, for finding out what the real reason for it was, she would have to go to Guardian and ask, but remembering how the dragon had been overprotective with the eggs in the cave, she was loath to approach the sky beast without an invitation, despite having earned the right to call the Last of her Kind a friend.

And, so, the first order of the day was building her endurance. To do so, she would have to eat more than she had been since she had awakened from her ailment, therefore she rose from the bed and grabbing the plate Keith had brought she settled herself by the fireplace, quickly setting the fresh logs in it ablaze. Under the light of the fire, she ate in silence as she contemplated the ways she could achieve her goal. Emma doubted that Percival would let her near the training grounds, especially considering what she had overheard scant hours before. So, as she nibbled on the food, she planned. The exercises Mulan and Ruby had taught her were excellent for what she had in mind, and for them she only needed a little bit of space and determination. Also, she hoped that with the meditative parts of the exercises, she would be able to at least glean at what had been the cause of her sudden flashback, trusting that knowing the reason might help her with the control.

A light knock sounded from the door, and at Emma's equally soft acknowledgement, the door opened and the young healer, in charge of the Savior's cut, entered, the curious eyes finding Emma instantly by the fire. "I thought you would like an early start," Gwen murmured lightly as she knelt beside the Sheriff, a small woven basket in her hands holding all the supplies she needed for the bandage change.

Emma smiled at the unassuming manner the girl had about her, not speaking as she offered her the bandaged arm, letting the healer work in silence.

"You heal quickly," the young woman noted with surprise when she removed the last of the gauze off the wound, inspecting it under the light of the fire, quite astonished by the state of the injury that already looked several days, if not a week old. Prodding the healing cut gently, she looked up into the watchful green eyes. "If you want, you can wash before I redo the binding," she spoke softly, her keen look taking in the yesterday's clothes on the blonde, her hand swiftly passing over the torn and bloody sleeve.

With a nod, Emma rose to her feet and gathering a clean change of clothes, she sequestered herself in the bathroom, dealing quickly with her ablutions. Only minutes afterwards, she returned into the room, barefooted, in her leather pants and loose shirt, her hair spilling over her shoulders in freshly combed waves. Using her uninjured arm to throw her used clothes onto the bed, Emma took in the pillows the girl had laid out beside the fireplace in her absence, and following the inviting gesture from the young apprentice, she lowered herself down, providing the healer with enough space to work on her arm.

After several minutes, Gwen finished her work in silence; having made sure that the new bandage was wound tightly enough for it not to be undone during the day. "I think you won't need it past nightfall," she spoke softly as she brought the sleeve of Emma's shirt down and did the cuff. At the Savior's grateful nod, she smiled and lightly touched the injured forearm, before she rose to her feet. "Investing in pair of bracers might be a good thing," she remarked, causing the blonde to chuckle softly. "If you need anything else, you know where to find me," Gwen added as she walked out of the room, leaving the blonde by the fireplace, closing the door behind her.

As soon as the young healer left, Emma gathered her hair in her hands, deftly plaiting it into a braid, using a simple leather twine to tie its end. Then, she tightened the laces of her shirt, before she tucked it in into her pants, and throwing a simple brown hemp knee-length tabard she had unearthed out of the closet in the room over her clothes, she slipped into her boots and reaching for her sword, she threw on the black cloak, letting its hood hang low over her face. Using the early hours of the morning to her advantage, Emma passed the empty hallways and stairwell without anyone seeing her, leaving the Marble Hall in the dark vestiges of the dawn.

She swiftly walked away from the village, following the line of the cliff, her eyes searching for a place where she could have enough space for the forms she planned to do. Paying attention to the path she was taking, the blonde ducked deeper into the forest and not long after, she came across a shallow creek in a small clearing, its surface frozen over and glinting in the Sun of the early morning. The stream cut through the woods, and in this particular place it widened slightly, providing a watering hole for the local game, if Emma was to judge by the tracks left in the damp grounds by the water. Deciding it was a suitable place for her designs, the Sheriff removed her cape, tossing it over one of low hanging branches. She lowered her blade, leaning it against the trunk of the same tree, and swinging her arms she prepared herself to start the first form of the routine she had learned from Mulan. Rolling her neck, she sank into the position and centering her mind, she began.

As she moved through the forms, Emma allowed her focus to split in two ways – one to maintain the awareness of her surroundings and the following steps of the exercises, and the other part of her attention was to sift through the memories she had received from Regina, concentrating on the most recent and relevant ones, determined to learn what had happened in her absence from the Enchanted Forest.

With her arms in front of her, she stepped forward, keeping her knees slightly bent.

Almost unheard in the roar of the winds and power of the portal, the ship was creaking under the strain of both the funnel and Regina's magic, the opposite forces threatening to tear the vessel apart.

Her hands switched their positions as she elegantly glided back.

The swirls of purple mist clearing, unveiling the aftermath of the scrimmage the Wolves and the others had wrought on the cliff, the bodies of simians and soldiers strewn across the dirty snow. And blood. A trail of bloody footprints led deeper inland, to the place where a group of people she knew was kneeling, their faces mournful, while honoring the pile of black clothes.

Lifting her leg in the air, Emma turned in place with her arms crossed at the wrists in front of her.

Conversations with the Council of the Safe Haven and their allies, and the stories they had told Regina about the Savior.

With her arms high in the air, the blonde lounged forward, keeping her spine straight.

Regina climbed onto the table in the War Room, her eyes pinned to the map of the lands as she ordered people around, performing chant after chant in order to find the missing Sheriff. After the first try was too general, she attempted a slightly different method, garnering unexpected results, where the whole map of the Enchanted Forest glowed with gold tinge to the light. As she chuckled at the revelation the map provided, the former Evil Queen attempted another spell, after consulting with Rumplestiltskin.

Emma stumbled as she recalled the memory, the words of the second chant drawing her attention. She shared her life essence with the entire world? Was that the reason she was the Sheriff of the Enchanted Forest?

Deciding to focus on that tidbit later, the blonde returned into position, quickly continuing her forms as she delved further into the memories.

Late night talk with Mulan. Ride toward the White Castle. Meeting Guardian and hearing her message. Liam's excursion to the inner gardens. The hard and fast ride to the Brocéliande. Seeing Emma for the first time after two months. The meld. Saving Emma. Morgan's story. Fighting the overcharge. Lying beside Emma and just listening to her sleep. The rest of the story. Emma's awakening.

When the Savior stopped, she was fully drenched and the Sun was high in the sky, telling her that she had been going through her forms for hours without a pause. Now, she was trembling with exhaustion, a small layer of steam rising of her overheated skin and a steady stream of white vapor surrounded her face each time she breathed out, as she shakily walked to the tree where she had left her things. Wrapping the cloak around her shivering body, she sat down on a thick root sticking out of the frozen earth, enjoying the warm rays of Sun beating down on the black cape, adding more warmth to the velvet and fur cover. Settling more comfortably on the peeking limb, Emma leaned back into the trunk of the tree, placing her sword between her knees, her hands resting on the hilt of her weapon while she closed her eyes and breathed deeply, counting down the seconds until her heart eased its thunderous rhythm. The words Gwen had uttered that early morning came to the blonde.

You heal quickly, the healer had said, and the Savior had to acknowledge the words for something more than a simple quirk of her body. Although she had always found herself healing somewhat faster from her injuries, ever since she had been a child, the rate she was going at now was nothing but supernatural - or, rather, magical. Her injury had been deep and serious, but in a matter of a single day, it would be healed enough not to need bandages anymore. And, there was her almost miraculous recovery from the overcharge and the poison. By all accountings, she had been motionless for more than three weeks, earnestly hanging on by a thread while her body had been ravaged by both the poisonous ancient curse and the supply of magic that had helped keep her alive, not to mention her moment of death due to the strain the overcharge had caused to her heart – and, yet, she had been walking only hours after she had woken. Additionally, her endurance was improving by the hour, and if Emma was honest with herself, by the time Regina was done with her Heritance thing, she would be back to her old strength, if not better.

It had to be her magic, the Savior thought. That was the only thing that made sense to the Sheriff, even though the blonde could not feel its steady thrum throughout her body anymore, the heady feeling of the power that had been present in her very blood for her every waking moment since she had stopped the storm in Neverland.

She might not feel it, but she definitely still had it, Emma concluded, shaking her head at the conflicting emotions bubbling in her at the realization. On one hand, she had been terrified that her magic had been gone for good and with it, her sense of purpose and identity. On the other, she had been relieved for her particular brand of power carried a whole world of responsibility with it, a heavy burden indeed. She might not feel her magic, but her senses still remained much sharper than in ordinary human, augmented by her powers, and she could see and hear much more than others would anticipate. Sighing as she remembered how that particular trait had used to keep Liam and the Wolves unsettled around her, the blonde moved leisurely, rising from the root she had used to rest on, deciding to quench her thirst in the brook rather than going back to the village, before continuing with her physical betterment. Crouching by the glistening surface of the stream, the woman grimaced against the glare reflecting of the frozen layer blinding her for a second before she grabbed her sword by the scabbard, using the pommel to break the ice. Placing the weapon in her right hand, holding it by the hilt, Emma reached for the water with her left, bringing the cold liquid to her mouth in her cupped palm.

Remaining in her crouched position, the blonde slaked her thirst, exhaling sharply after each swallow of the freezing water, ignoring the slight shudder that would pass through her frame at the cold liquid sliding down her throat. As soon she was finished, she shook her hand before stuffing it under her right armpit to warm up her fingers, rising slowly to her feet, using the sword to push herself up, Emma turned to look toward the shadows moving deeper in the woods, her mouth quirking in an amused smirk.

"You know you can join me, right?" the Sheriff spoke loudly, her clear voice projecting deeply into the forest. "But, you can continue skulking about, if that is what you prefer," she added, her voice tinged with humor, as she could almost feel the surprise emanating from the person that had been watching her for the past half hour. Finally, her shadow moved into the light, walking slowly toward the brook and the Savior, shaking her head at the blonde's indulgent tones.

"You knew I was there the whole time, didn't you?" the shifter spoke when she came within four feet from the other woman.

"Honestly, I expected you to find me much earlier," Emma said with a light nod, as she gestured toward the tree that had served as her resting point, having seen that the Wolf healer had a leather satchel thrown over her shoulder, and the blonde had no doubt in her mind that the contents of it were of the food variety.

"I wasn't looking for you, until you didn't show for lunch," the shifter commented as she sat down, placing the satchel in front of her. Then, she looked up into the Savior's eyes and seeing wariness in them, she sighed. "Despite what you might think, I am not your minder, Geilgeis, and I do not seek to curtail your movements." Opening her bag, she reached in and got a small bread roll, tossing it gently to the Savior, urging her to sit beside her. "I am, however, entreated to watch over you and offer a helping hand, if needed."

Tearing a bit of the roll off, the younger woman sat right next to the shifter, chewing on the piece she had placed in her mouth. She frowned at the unspoken indication the Wolf had in her words, crossing her legs in a relaxed Indian seat. "Regina put you up to this? Why?"

"Your beloved is worried."

"But, I am alright," the blonde responded, rolling her eyes at the contradicting look she had gotten from the Wolf. "Mostly," she amended after a moment, acknowledging the other woman's point.

The shifter murmured noncommittally as she offered the blonde a small container with cut meat and cheese along with two hard boiled eggs, already peeled. "She also thought you would accept my presence with more ease due to your relationship with my son."

"As opposed to Percy, most definitely," Emma agreed as she munched on the food, the first taste of the bread making her realize that she was indeed starving. "So, how did you find me?" she asked, popping a morsel into her mouth, slanting a curious look at the shifter.

The Wolf chuckled, showing her teeth as she shook her head at the Savior. "Why? So, you'd know not to do next time?" Although her voice was on the teasing side, the other woman knew that the shifter was quite serious. But, when Emma refused to react at the implied claim, only blinking lazily while she tossed a piece of cheese in her mouth, the older woman sighed, leaning back against the tree. "The ointment Gwen covered your arm with," she spoke in capitulation after several minutes of uninterrupted but suddenly tense silence, the shifter inexplicably being under impression that she had lost a match against a much stronger Alpha. The feeling she couldn't explain, but she had heard her son speak of it – however, at the time, she had believed that Liam had exaggerated, his remarks heavily influenced by his regard and awe for the White Knight. Only now, she could see that her son had been right, that there was something about the blonde that forced the inner wolves of her kind to yield to Emma's wishes, almost unconsciously. And, the way the blonde had known where she was, even there had been no way the Sheriff had heard her or seen her – Aileen was proud of the fact that she was one of the best hunters of her people, only her son, his second, and her late mate having been able to best her. It couldn't be just the magic, for Aileen had known Morgan for a lot of years now, and the Witch Queen had never even suggested being that much aware of the Wolf's movements.

"Well, then I am in luck, for I won't be wearing it past nightfall," Emma commented with ease, her sharp eyes noticing the consternation in the furrowed brows of the other woman. However, she did not pry but focused on the sack. "What else have you got there?" she asked, pointing at the bag.

Shaking off her thoughts, the shifter pulled out a small leather water-bag, offering it to the Savior. "This season's melomel." As the green eyes looked up in confusion at her, the Wolf explained. "It's mead with berry fruits." Watching the Savior uncork the bag, daring to take a sip, she continued. "It's young and still mild, so I though you would like it, rather than pure mead or ale."

Emma smacked her lips at the sweet taste, nodding lightly at the flavor before she drank some more of the mead. "It tastes like blueberry juice," she commented.

"It basically still is, the mead hasn't been fermenting for long."

"It's good, nonetheless," Emma spoke, before finishing the drink.

The shifter smiled at the blonde's soft admission. "So, what is it that you've been doing here?" she asked after a while, realizing that the Sheriff wasn't going to bother filling the silence falling over them.

"Getting my strength back," the Savior spoke shortly, her eyes darting toward the woman beside her.

"If that is so, I have a proposition for you," the shifter offered, slightly unnerved by the light eyebrow arching at her.

"Hmm," the blonde murmured, leaning her head against her fist, resting her elbow on her knee. "And, what is it?"

"Seeing how Percival is not inclined to let you anywhere near his playground," Aileen said, smirking as Emma snorted. "I would like to offer myself as a sparring partner." Once more, Emma raised her eyebrow at her, waiting for more. "I mean, with my abilities, I am probably the best suited for it, anyways."

"And, you would do that? Even though you also believe I am not quite right?"

"Well, short of fixing your problems by the end of the day, I do think this is the next best thing," Aileen answered Emma's pointed question, meeting the sharp eyes directed at her. "At least, it might tire you out enough for you to be able to sleep…" the shifter added softly, hoping to persuade Emma.

"Good luck with that," the Savior spoke wistfully as she brought herself up, leaving the sword in its place. Removing her cloak and tossing it over a branch, she looked at the still seated Wolf. "Come on," she urged.

"What, now?"

"Not a lot of time left," the blonde remarked as she rolled her shoulders and neck, hopping lightly in place, watching the older woman rise to her feet. "Lot of things to do," she added, gesturing at the Wolf to attack.

"You should not rush, Geilgeis, you might stumble," the Wolf warned, shrugging off her fur lined jacket. Throwing her hand in a fast move, she smirked when the Savior easily deflected the blow. Slowly building up her moves into a complex series of punches and lounges, the shifter put the blonde through her paces, backing off when Emma would falter and need a break. The healer watched carefully, her mind cataloguing the fact that the blonde's temper, although present and simmering under the surface, brought on by frustration and exhaustion, never turned belligerent. It seemed to the shifter that the Savior was slowly getting her feet under her, her anger and irritation drained by the physical effort.

Hours after they started, the blonde raised her hand and gasped "No more," before she stumbled toward the tree holding her cloak, quickly wrapping herself into the warm protection, as her sweat drenched shirt stuck to her over heated skin uncomfortably.

"Don't sit down," the healer spoke softly, quickly preventing Emma from collapsing onto her previous place of rest. "Come, let's walk it off," she murmured as she gathered their things, throwing on her jacket. With Emma's arm over her shoulders, the shifter directed them toward the House of Healing, quite aware that the blonde's quivering muscles have been pushed enough for the day. "I have an idea for tomorrow," she spoke as they walked toward the village. "We could go on a perimeter watch and return in two days. It's about hundred and fifty mile hike that would prove as a suitable challenge for you."

"Hike?" The blonde considered the proposal. It had merit, especially if Aileen planned to finish it in only two days. The pace of it would be almost brutal and it might prove a distraction enough for Emma to stop her from feeling out of sorts in her quarters in the Marble Palace while waiting for Regina to return from her Inheritance business.

---

The soft sound of the fire crackling in the fireplace was interrupted only by the slight screech of a whetting stone passing over metal, the well-established rhythm of the sharpening soothing to the ears of the blonde seated by the hearth, as she enjoyed the warmth seeping into her sore muscles. In her hands was the sword she had been given in the White Palace's armory, its blade shining under the light of the dancing flames. Only under the hard surface of the whetting stone the blade showed imperfections, small nicks and grooves earned in many fights Emma had fought with her trusty sword.

She had taken in out of its scabbard to check the blade, as the next day she would take it with herself into the wilderness of Brocéliande. However, when her sharp gaze had fallen onto the line of the weapon, she had noticed the scratches it had collected over the days spent in her possession.

She knew enough to realize that her sword had not been made to bear the brunt of hundreds and hundreds of enemies she had fought off with it, and soon, she would have to visit a blacksmith or get another sword. But, for now, she decided to smooth out the grooves in the blade, sharpening it in the process, loath to part from her weapon.

A short rap of knocks sounded from the closed door of her room before the hard wood moved, swinging inwards, as two Emma's visitors entered, Keith carrying a platter of food in his hand, while over his shoulder was a leather bag the blonde was supposed to use for her things the next day, and following him was Gwen, her arms also laden with things the Savior would need for her excursion. While Keith lowered the plater beside the quiet blonde, leaving the bag on the bed, and quickly excused himself, the young healer apprentice remained, deftly settling herself beside the Savior without spilling anything out of her arms.

Emma peered over to her, putting her sword on the floor beside her leg, noticing a simple clay mug in the healer's hand with scented steam rising out of it. In the other hand, the young woman held a small satchel and two canteens were hanging by their straps from her forearm. Acknowledging the scrutiny with a small twitch of her lips, the young healer offered the mug to the blonde. "It should help with the strain and sleep," Gwen murmured in explanation at the inquisitive look directed at the cup, now safely cradled in pale elegant fingers. When the blonde took a sip of the hot drink, the healer gestured toward the pouch in her hand. "This is a simple healer's kit, for your impending adventure." Her mouth quirked into a soft teasing smirk at her last words, before a more serious expression set on her face. "These two canteens hold brews intended for your use, should you need them. This one, with the green pattern on the strap is similar to the one you are drinking right now; it eases the muscle pain and soreness, and with a bit of a rest it can rejuvenate you quite a bit. The other one is to help you relax and sleep, but be warned, it is quite strong, in order to prevent dreams. It will knock you out."

Emma lowered the empty cup beside her, her brows narrowing at Gwen's words. "Do I need to be careful with them?" the Sheriff asked slowly, as she accepted the gifts from the young healer beside her.

The girl tilted her head to a side, her eyes gliding over Emma's face before she blinked slowly, apparently getting an answer to her silent inquiry. "These, in these amounts… They are safe." The healer spoke softly, with understanding and kindness flooding her features as she placed her palm onto the Sheriff's forearm, squeezing it lightly. "However, prolonged use is out of the question," she added quietly, her tone firm as she tightened her hold on the other woman's arm.

At Emma's comprehending nod, the younger woman elegantly rose to her feet, pressing down in her simple dress, bidding good night to the Savior as she left the room, closing the door behind her, not at all offended by the blonde's contemplative silence, the tired green eyes staring at the gifts the healer had imparted onto the Savior.

Finishing the last of the curiously tasting drink, the Sheriff leaned forward, slowly clambering up to her feet in order to move to bed, knowing that whatever rest she managed to scrounge that night, would go a long way the next day.

A light touch over her sheet covered shoulder snapped Emma awake, as she jumped away from the contact, her hands searching blindly for something to use as a weapon against the intruder. "It's only me, Geilgeis," the soft grumbling tones of the werewolf healer reached the Savior, quickly followed by the light crack of the flint, and in the resulting flame of the candle, the blonde could see the shifter moving away from the bed. Aileen grabbed the edge of the door as she looked behind, at the still hazy Savior peering at her. "We'll be waiting outside."

As soon as the door closed, Emma collapsed back into the warmth of the covers, blowing the air out of her mouth. Groaning lightly as she stretched, the blonde noted with surprised relief that her body was quite limber and relaxed, any traces of lingering soreness and stiffness gone. Forcing herself to leave the safety of her bed, the blonde quickly dealt with her ablutions, preparing for the journey. As she donned the clothes that seemed most appropriate for the endeavor, the Sheriff spared a moment to lament the loss of her black garbs pilfered from Regina's court, their elegance and simple lines not diminished by their practicality. With a light headshake, the blonde flexed her shoulders and regarded her reflection in the polished silver plate affixed to the inner side of the wardrobe's door, nodding at the choice she had made, deeming it acceptable for spending long hours on what promised to be an arduous trek within the borders of the mythical forest. Reaching for her sword, she tied it to her middle with practiced ease, and then gathered her things and ready for her excursion, she left her quarters.

After a short jog up the stone stairs, Emma found herself in front of the large entrance door of the Marble Palace, the wooden door ajar just enough for her to squeeze through. Not wasting more time, the blonde pushed herself through the space, shuddering as the strong and cold wind met her the second she cleared the comfortably heated air of the building.

"Oh, good, you are here," Emma heard from the bottom of the steps, her eyes narrowing as they met the hard and judging ones of the last Knight of Camelot. She didn't respond to his biting tone, only raising her eyebrow in his way. Shouldering her pack over the thick cloak Regina had brought to her, she walked down the steps, using the time to look at the people gathered at the bottom. Beside Aileen and Percival, there were two other men, dressed in the same outfits as the people Regina had met after she had entered Brocéliande, both of them armed with crossbows and knives. All the three men had their eyes pinned at the blonde, watching her carefully on her descent toward them, Percival's eyes brimming with disagreement and suspicion, while the others only regarded her with cautious interest.

"You look better," the voice of the werewolf greeted her as soon as Emma's foot reached the ground, her pleased tone breaking off the locked staring contest between the last Knight of the Round Table and the Savior, drawing Emma's attention away from the bunched eyebrows clearly showing displeasure of the dark skinned man. "Good," the wolf added in low voice, almost to herself, casting a sharp look toward the Knight in warning.

Rebuked by the silent glare from the shifter, Percival motioned to one of the men beside him as he turned to address the Savior. "Despite my objections, Aileen considers that the border walk would do you good," he spoke with a light sneer, raising his hand to accept the weapons his man had brought, closing his fist around the two daggers he had gotten. "Even though I do not believe you are quite ready for this, I cannot let you leave our little hamlet without protection." Taking the first dagger, he offered it to the blonde, holding on to it for a while longer, even after Emma had grabbed its hilt. "Boot," he murmured, directing his eyes at her left leg. Only when the blonde nodded in understanding, he released his hold, watching the woman crouch in order to set it in place. "Waist," he only said as he gave the other one, smirking slightly when the newcomer rolled her eyes at his patronizing help, offering no verbal reply, thus earning some respect from the Knight. Then, he pointed toward her sword, tied at the hip. "You are, of course, aware that swords are not weapons people take in the woods, where no one is expecting attacks from other humans," he noted snidely, but when the blonde's ungloved hand clenched into a fist around the grip of the elegant weapon, he dropped the subject, realizing that, for Emma, the sword was not only the tool of war, but something to ground her as well – and in her condition, she needed it, perhaps more than anyone could guess.

With another short gesture, Percival watched as the other man beside him brought forth a quiver filled with arrows and a long bow. "I heard you are… adequate with these," he added, motioning to his man to present them to the blonde.

"For someone who surely hates the idea of her having weapons, you certainly ply her with them," the shifter noted with amusement, her comment making the dark colored man shake his head.

"What's with the escort?" the Savior asked, glancing at the two men while she placed the quiver across her back, keeping the bow in her left hand, realizing that it was long enough to serve as a walking stick of sorts.

"The border patrol always consists of four people. Now, I understand that you are not members of the Guard, and have no obligation to fulfill its duties, but I will not send out a full team if you are already going along the same path as the Guardsmen usually do." The knight nodded at the two men. "They were about to leave, as well, so I just reassigned two of them on another matter, while these two will accompany you on your trail." Placing his arms behind his back, he let his eyes pass over the gathered people in front of him and sighed. "Off you go," he said before he turned around and briskly climbed the stairs, ducking into the Marble Palace out of the cold.

"Well, that was…" Emma started speaking, as she followed the shifter and the other two out of the village, adjusting the strap of the quiver on her shoulder. "Inspiring," she mumbled, lifting her hood up, ignoring the soft chuckle coming from the Wolf in front of her. "So, what did you tell him? You'd go and sweep the trail if he let me tag along?" The blonde murmured as she drew to Aileen's side, matching her long gait. "Do something more, if he gave me weapons?"

"Not everything is about you, Sheriff," the shifter whispered before she sped up, taking up the leading point of their small group, setting up a hard pace for the rest of them. And, even though they were moving fast on the path leading away from the village, veering upwards into the mountains, directly opposite from that little route Regina had taken with Percival on her way to the Dragon's Bluff, Emma knew enough of the Wolves' behavior to know that Aileen had her eyes and ears peeled, her keen senses trained to spot trouble and danger.

Emma followed in silence, allowing the two Guardsmen to guard their rear, slightly uncomfortable by the punishing tempo uphill their leader had set, her skin already damp and hot. However, she dared not complain as she had known this would be a hard journey, pushing her very limits of her still recovering body.

---

The door creaked as it opened, and the sound of the rain grew stronger, almost deafening, before the door closed once more, the person who entered leaning against the hard wood with a tired sigh. Taking off her cloak, the shifter glanced at the person lying in the cot by the closest wall, the roaring fire in the hearth across from it casting a strong glow over the features of the person. "You really should sleep," Aileen murmured as she took off her soaked clothes, stretching them over the stone floor beside the fireplace to dry.

The rain had caught them only several hours away from the first guard post, where the patrolling soldiers would rest for the night, protected from the elements. The icy cold water had beaten upon them mercilessly, making the already treacherous path through the mountain vegetation all the much worse. Slowed by the resulting deluge that brought along loose mud down the slopes of the mountain, the four forged on, finally reaching the first resting point of their journey late in the evening, shivering, drenched, and tired.

Aileen walked slowly toward the empty cot beside Emma's and sat, wrapping the coarse wool blanket around her body to keep warm, her eyes not moving from her silent companion. "You held up pretty well today," she added, but the only answer she got was a noncommittal grunt. "We have a little more than two leagues of the incline before the path starts leading into the valley. And, only a league away from here is the first obelisk on our track. We hadn't encountered them on the first part of our trek because they were deeper in the forest, where the ground is too unstable to cross. But, from now on, they would be a regular occurrence." Another low grunt met the Wolf's ears, as Emma burrowed deeper into the cot, her shoulder almost covering her chin. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Emma murmured in a sleepy voice, her eyelids remaining half mast, even though she looked into the other woman's direction. "Just, it has been a while since I had to cross such distance on foot." Shifting in her cot, the blonde placed her elbow beneath her head as she turned to the shifter, her full attention onto the older woman. "I have forgotten how it forces you to think, especially about the things that have been crowding your mind lately…"

Aileen hummed in agreement before she leaned forward. "Any breakthroughs?"

"Nothing in particular," the Savior replied softly, fiddling with the edge of the blanket covering her. "But, I do feel like something is waiting to happen - something catastrophic."

"That could be your inner restlessness speaking," the Wolf spoke slowly, uncertain how to respond to the blonde's fear. The Savior seemed like someone with good instincts, quite able to anticipate the events in the future. But, on the other hand, the younger woman had been through so much, still recovering from the cursed effects of the magical mist and expenditure of magic, both situations highly damaging to one's psyche in their own right. The sense of impending disaster could be a manifestation of Emma's burden turning out to be too much for her to handle.

"Perhaps," the Savior spoke softly after a while, breaking the silence that had lapsed between them, shifting onto her back, her arms right beside the edges of the cot.

"But, you don't think so."

Emma did not reply, her breathing changing with the slumber she succumbed to, the slowing heartbeats loud just enough for the other woman to know for sure that the blonde had fallen asleep and not avoiding continuing their already meager conversation.

The Wolf sighed wearily, lying down on her own bed, her mind sifting through the memories of that day, paying more attention to the ones pertaining to the blonde beside her. They hadn't encountered anything worrisome on their way to the first guard outpost, but the Sheriff had seemed tense and jumpy, her sharp eyes darting over winter green foliage, focusing onto every shadow falling across the grounds and every sound heard in the woods. If she were honest, Aileen supposed that the Sheriff had done the same thing she had been doing the entire time, but the blonde had seemed more obvious about it, an air of grim expectance and anticipation around her, like she had been waiting on enemies to emerge from the shadowy covers of the forest. The manner she had kept squeezing the hilt of her sword was also telling of her unease. Even now, the shifter noticed, the Savior was sleeping with her weapons beside her bed, well within her reach.

Aileen's train of thought was broken by the door opening once again, one of the men accompanying the women rushing inside, quickly closing the door against the outpour outside, leaving his comrade to stand watch right in front of the small structure serving as their resting point. Noticing the woman's eyes on him the man nodded in greeting.

"Still not letting up?" the shifter asked in a low voice as she watched the guardsman step toward the fire, taking off his soaked cloak and jerkin.

"It will last well into the morning," he whispered gruffly, his darting eyes checking upon the sleeping Savior. As he saw no movement from her, he continued. "It may prove impossible to go to the marker stone until the rain stops. The pathway is turning too slick to thread upon, and walking off it is certain death."

The shifter hummed in acknowledgement of the soldier's dire predictions, frowning as she tried to calculate how much of delay it would cost, for she didn't believe that Emma would allow them to be somewhere deep in the woods when the assumed deadline Morgan had set for Regina came along. "We'll see in the morning."

He nodded in agreement, settling himself down by the hearth with a jaw snapping yawn, using a spare blanket to make his place on the ground more comfortable. As he found a position he could easily rest in, his eyes fell on the least familiar member of the group, watching the dancing shadows from the fire fall over creased forehead and firmly pressed lips of the sleeping woman. "A jumpy one, isn't she?"

"She's been through a lot," Aileen replied softly, glancing toward her charge with worried affection. "It is bound to leave a mark on her in some way." Then, the shifter reconsidered her words, remembering the way Emma had known she had been watched, the previous day at the small creek in the forest. "But, Geilgeis still has amazing instincts about her. If there is something in the woods, she will sense it, perhaps even faster than I would." When the soldier's eyes met her own, widened in surprise, she hummed lightly in confirmation. "It is one of the many reasons the Wolves hold her in high esteem. That, and her inexplicable ability to be almost always right about events and people." The shifter stopped for a moment, her lips stretching into an impish smile. "And, not to forget her ability to best most of my kind in hands to hands fights without aid of magic."

The guardsman chuckled softly at the amused tone of the shifter. He was familiar with the abilities of her kind, as well as with the pride they took in their prowess. For the blonde woman to be able to best them on their terms – it had to rankle the hell out of the furry devils. "I can see how that can irk some people." He shared a look with Aileen, both of them immediately thinking about a certain knight who seemed to be annoyed by the very thought of the Savior being anywhere near him. The man understood his leader's position, as he, too, had seen the effects of wars on those of kind heart. He had seen the dangers those inflicted posed to others and themselves, tortured by the mental scars. But, he also knew that some people were quite capable of pushing through their problems and becoming even better warriors. And, by the looks of it, Aileen sincerely believed that Geilgeis was one of those people.

Letting their conversation end there, he closed his eyes, sinking off to sleep instantly, his body trained to rest when it could.

With one last look at the Sheriff, the Wolf turned to her side and willed herself into slumber, leaving their problems and worries for the next day.

---

The sharp crispy air bathed the Savior's freshly scrubbed face the second the woman left the warmth of the small guard post, the sudden change in temperature forcing her into a visible shudder. With an absent motion, the blonde draped her cloak around her, her eyes passing over the heavy and dark rolling clouds covering the sky, their thickness preventing the Sun to reach the ground, enveloping them in dusk-like darkness. But, the rain had stopped a while back, the wet earth solidifying into frozen grounds, the cold settling over the forest quite quickly.

Drawn by the soft murmurs, Emma looked toward the older man conversing with the shifter as they were glancing up to the skies and the path leading up to the first marker on their way. Interested in their discussion, the blonde pushed away from the building's wall and softly walked over to them, her sharp ears catching bits of their conversation already after several steps.

"I take it, by your expression," Emma heard Aileen speak grimly, "it's not good news."

The older guardsman, the one the Savior heard others call Alistair shook his head. "It'll start sleeting quite soon. And, with nightfall, even snowing." Motioning to the path, the soldier sighed. "We cannot allow ourselves to get caught in the blizzard while out in the open."

"There are some caves that we can use for the night," the Wolf said after a moment. "They are only hundred feet away from the obelisk, large enough to serve as a quite comfortable shelter."

"I remember," the soldier answered contemplatively, nodding as he considered the possible shelter. "But, we must move while we still have the light. With ice and high slope, it may take us hours to get there."

Aileen turned to look at the Savior, having noticed her approach earlier, the piercing grey eyes considering the blonde beside her. "It's up to you, Geilgeis. We either stay here or in the caves."

The Savior glanced back at the small one room stone cottage, her brows furrowing. If she had to wait for the weather to clear up, she would rather do it in a place where she could at least occasionally stretch her legs without stepping on anyone's bunk. "The caves," she said firmly.

And, so, the decision was made, and minutes later, the small group moved onward with their trek, occasionally glancing up into the churning dark skies. However, the short distance to their next stop was not crossed as quickly as Emma had anticipated, the frozen grounds and uphill path forcing the four to thread carefully, using whatever sharp weapons they had at hand to help them on their climb, and even so, it wouldn't pass more than several minutes before one of them would slip and lose their balance, scrambling to grab onto a random root or a stone sticking out of rock solid earth, or digging in their blades, lest they slide down the slope; each misstep robbing the person of their breath. Not even the shifter was immune to the slippery path, catching herself with gloved hands and cursing into her chin each time her feet would get away from her on their way up the steep incline.

Finally, after three hours of arduous climb, when the way into the mountain leveled off, Aileen sighed in relief as her eyes caught the sight of the first marker stone in their path, the dark stone of the obelisk glinting in the low light. Stretching her stiffened back muscles, she looked back at her companions, pleased to see that everyone had managed to reach safety of the small plateau, the steepest part of the journey behind them. "Alistair, we'll need wood," she spoke as the older soldier came to her, his chest heaving as he panted from the exertion of the climb. When the man went about gathering the firewood for their camp, his sharp bark summoning the younger soldier to his side to help, the shifter glanced to her side, her gaze drawn to the slightly limping blonde stepping slowly in her direction, Aileen using the moment to look over the Savior, pleased to see that the woman was only slightly worse for wear. The blonde passed her side and continued on, toward the marker, her attention excluding everything else but the ancient etches grooved deeply into the weathered stone.

The shifter watched as the Savior took off her glove, a soft crease in the blonde woman's brows portraying her concentration on the strange obelisk, as she stepped closer to examine it, obviously drawn by the artifact of time long past.

The granite block was wet under Emma's bare hand, the fingers passing over lichen covered grooves etched deeply into the stone. The lines were forming a familiar rune in old elvish, the meaning coming to the blonde almost the same moment as her skin connected with it – protection and sanctuary. However, there was something besides curiosity that had drawn the aching and tired Savior to the stone. It was a low grade pulsing emanating from the obelisk, barely there, and yet, Emma could feel it quite clearly, as it resonated with her power deep within her, the power she had not felt since the day she had woken up in the House of Healing. It was both unfamiliar and recognizable at the same time, its signature making her muscles quiver with unease. The magic was not unpleasant nor did it feel dangerous to Emma, however it did inspire a tingle of longing in her, as if the energy stored in the obelisk recognized her on some level. No, not her, the blonde gathered. It felt her magic, her True Love Born magic, and it, for the lack of better simile, rejoiced for its appearance.

The Tintagel founder must have had his magic fed into the stones, Emma realized, the True Love Born magic, and now the markers, for some reason had enough of awareness of the world around them to identify the Sheriff as one quite similar to their creator, similar enough to react to her presence. "I thought the boundary failed," she spoke aloud, having just thought of something.

The Wolf frowned at the question. "It is reported so, yes," she said as she walked closer to the Savior. "Why do you ask?"

"There is still magic in these stones," the blonde murmured, her hushed tone loud just enough for the shifter to hear her. "They still serve their purpose." Pressing her palm against the surface of the stone more firmly, Emma felt the volume of the magic in the obelisk change, an almost negligible amount of it disappearing during the Sheriff's inspection of the artifact, the power of the enchantment weakening by the seconds. "Barely," she added under her breath, her fingers twitching almost imperceptibly over the runes.

"I don't feel anything," the older woman spoke softly, glancing toward the pale hand still resting against the dark gray surface with unease. As a Wolf who had spent a lot of time around Morgan, she had a pretty firm grasp on the effect of the ambient or captured magics on her sharp senses and instincts, but to hear that the border stones still held their power and that she couldn't feel it, it was strange for her. "Maybe the watchers couldn't, either." She looked at the blonde's face just in time to see a slow nod, as the Savior hummed thoughtfully. Giving the Savior a few moments to comment, the shifter looked away from rock, the silence that followed making her uncomfortable. And, as she moved, the Wolf noticed heavy white flakes slowly floating down, not melting away whence on the ground. "Come along, snow is starting," Aileen said after a moment, patting Emma's shoulder, her loud gesture breaking the odd mood the blonde had.

---

Emma was sitting on the hard floor of the cave, her back pressed against uneven wall, as she let sounds of soft and rapid conversation wash over her, the cadence of the two soldiers' speak having a mildly soporific effect on her mind, her mind that had been churning for hours with the newly garnered knowledge of the magic present in the stones. It hadn't been the magic itself that had set her thoughts into swirling mess, but the fact that the obelisk somehow reacted, or better said, communicated with her. Even now, hours after the fact, the Savior could feel the soft questing tendrils of foreign power meeting her own, originating from the border stone only yards away – stone that she could no longer see due to the blizzard that had enveloped their world in a curtain of white flurries.

Throwing a glance to her left, she took in the men sitting in front of the fire, huddled close and chuckling about something or the other, while the shifter sat across from them, smiling indulgently at their no doubt ribald tales.

She had excused herself from the blistering heat of the fire, the stilted words of her companions trying to enjoy their forced rest without insulting her in some way giving her a headache. Emma had understood that no matter who she really was, in the eyes of the Camelot men she was a noblewoman of the highest order, Queen Regina's mate, Queen Snow's daughter, and Queen Morgan's most honored guest. That meant that the men would be uncomfortable around her for the most of the time. Especially, in their free time.

She thought back to the moment she had entered the cave, her mind on the conversation that had followed. Emma had walked into the dark space, only a step behind the shifter, her eyes passing over the well sheltered inner chamber, noticing a number of soot covered rocks placed in a circle, with several logs surrounding it at a small distance, and yet a bit farther, there were neatly arranged logs of dry wood, ready to be put into the fire. It had been a scene that she would have expected to see in one of the camping idyll movies, the shelter obviously outfitted for comfort, what little there was of it in the wilderness of the forest.

The sight of the prepared fireplace had caused Emma to think on the previous step of their trip, turning to look at the older warrior and the shifter, a question ready on her lips.

"You travel this path every time, Master Alistair?" she asked in confusion, her eyes still pinned to the prepared hearth in the cave. Turning to look the old soldier, she frowned. "And you climb that steep each time?"

The old man chuckled lightly as he shared a look with his partner. "Aye, each time," he replied as he watched the boy deal with the fire. But, before Emma could demand further explanation out of him, he sat down at one of the logs, motioning to Emma to sit as well. "Milady, may I assume you were wondering why there aren't steps, or at least ropes, that would make that part of our route easier to cross?"

Emma nodded expectantly, spreading her legs in front of her and slowly taking off her cloak, all the while she watched the old man.

"Our Queen forbade us to change the nature around us, Milady. We may hunt, but only for food and only if the need is dire. We may use the fallen branches and magically grown trees for our fires, and use the posts and caves for our men. But, we cannot stray much from our path, nor can we permanently mark the forest with our presence. These woods do not belong to Men, our Queen said, Milady. These are the sacred grounds of kinds much worthier than ours."

"Magically grown trees?" the Savior asked in confusion.

"Queen Morgan and her best apprentices walk with the soldiers from time to time," Aileen spoke. "Then, whenever the guard would make camp, they would grow several trees and mark them, so if soldiers were ever in need of firewood, they could use the fast grown ones."

"To keep the forest more or less untouched…" Emma murmured in understanding.

Not long after that, they had eaten a meager meal of dried meat and travel bread, doing their best to ignore the howls of the wind and white curtain of falling snow.

"You are quite away from the fire, Geilgeis," a soft murmur interrupted Emma's thoughts as the shifter sat down beside her. "Does the company bother you?"

The blonde glanced back at the two soldiers, quite surprised to see them already making their beddings for the night. "No, I think it's the other way around."

"Ah," Aileen murmured with understanding. "They don't know how to treat you. Morgan has informed the villagers of your royal status and your relationship with Regina, who is a queen in her own right, and yet, you behave as if you are one of the more cultured commoners." The shifter looked at the simple forest garbs the Savior was wearing with a pointed glare. "And, there is Percival's reticence to let you go with us. He is the last remaining Knight, and the highest authority around here regarding military matters."

When the Wolf saw the blonde rolling her eyes at the mention of the knight, she sighed and reached for the Sheriff's boot, quickly taking out one of the daggers the woman had been presented with the morning before. "You may believe that Percival doesn't respect you, but you'd be wrong." Offering the dagger to the blonde, she continued. "Look at the weapons he gave you. These aren't ordinary tools, Geilgeis, for the soldiers and villagers to use. The daggers are the finest Camelot steel, given only to the worthy. And, the bow is made of the perfect wood and finest silk, the arrows tipped with the best arrowheads… These are not just weapons, Geilgeis. These are the weapons you'd find on a conquering hero."

"Then, why is he…?" Emma floundered; unable to continue her question, but her companion already surmised the rest.

"He might believe you should not be armed at the moment because of your blood haze, but that doesn't mean he doesn't respect you," shifter said, her hand landing gently on Emma's, her low voice insistent.

"But, he treated me weirdly even before that evening."

"Getting from your deathbed into the practicing field in the matter of days wasn't enough, but you proceeded with disarming his best two fighters in matter of minutes. You surprised him."

"I seem to be doing that to a lot of people these days." With it, Emma made herself comfortable, using her thick cloak to soften her sleeping area, her things placed beside her. The shifter rose and moved away a bit, finding herself a protected alcove, not far from the mouth of the cave, but not too far from the heat of the fire, determined to use it as her watch post.

Taking a sip out of one of the flasks Gwen had given her, then out of the other one, the blonde closed her eyes, willing her thoughts to slow and tapper off, so she would at least manage some rest uninterrupted by her busy mind. And under the effect of the tonics, she slipped quickly into a restful sleep only moments after she had put away the canteens.

Unconsciousness claimed the Savior so fast that she didn't notice a worried frown thrown her way. The wolf had noticed the medicines the blonde was carrying with her, but only this evening she had seen the Sheriff actually partake in them. Aileen knew quite well what the potions were, and for Emma to take both of them, the day's adventure must have been much harder on the blonde than she had assumed. Yes, the climb had been hard, even for the experienced patrolmen, but the Savior had not lagged behind, nor had she shown that the effort of the ascent had been too big for her in any way.

Aileen sighed softly, her eyes moving away from the sleeping blonde onto the falling snow. Their two day hike was turning out to last much longer than expected, especially with the snow storm that threatened to have them stranded. And, in addition to that, the Sheriff had seemed concerned about something, particularly after exploring the first marker stone in their path. Or, perhaps the shifter had been worrying for no reason, but she could not shake the feeling that whatever the Sheriff had been troubled with would emerge soon enough.

---

She stepped across the snow, her naked feet not bothered by the cold, her steps guiding her across the large plain with nothing in sight, but the distant mountains – dark and looming, their slopes devoid of vegetation. She looked upwards, her eyes meeting clear skies, with nary a bird or cloud in sight. Then, her eyes lowered to see herself, and Emma saw what she was wearing for the first time since she had found herself in this strange place.

A white gown, made from quality linen, flowed down her body, its skirts tapering off in a short train that trailed behind her. Its sleeves were long and tight, and then widening pass the elbows, ending in a trumpet shape at the wrists. The style of the dress, the bliaut – her mind filled with Regina's knowledge of styles and types of clothing supplied, was something Emma imagined had been appropriate for young maidens in the medieval courts or in the courts of the Enchanted Forest, but it wasn't something the woman herself would willingly wear, not even for the special occasions. With a frown, she traced the intricate stitching over her torso with her fingers, as she recognized the talent and effort that had gone into making this particular dress. Carefully examining the pattern, the blonde realized that the stitching wasn't depicting a random design, but among the beautifully crafted vines, two familiar shapes were hidden, one overlaid over another, creating a crest of sort. A bird with a long neck with spread wings, in flight, with an elvish symbol for the protector, or savior, stitched expertly over the bird's chest. A swan, the woman understood, as she realized the crest was supposed to be her own.

After she was finished with inspecting her gown, Emma threw a glance behind her, searching for a clue, for something that would give an idea where she was, or where she was going, but the only thing she could see were her tracks made in snow, somehow unobscured by her dress, the imprints too vivid against the whiteness of the untouched snow. Her steps were marked by crimson footprints, the color of them making Emma grimace, as it was the same as the color of blood on the fresh snow.

As soon as she rushed to lift her skirt to see her feet, a strong wind came, swirling around her. Her long golden hair was whipping about her face while the loose ends of her dress fluttered, the only sound filling the silence apart from the howl of the gale was the flapping of the fabric. However, the wind did not last for long; as quickly as it had come it was gone, leaving behind a vast, empty plain, the floor consisting only of dry earth and rocks, not a blade of grass to be seen for as far as Emma's eyes could reach.

She stepped forward, walking toward the mountains, seemingly crossing the immense flatland in the shortest time imaginable, all the while her footprints remained marked onto the landscapes she was crossing, the bloody indentations in the soft earth black as tar in the harsh Sun glaring atop of her.

*For a second, all she could feel was panic. Her heart was pounding sharply against her ribs as she tried to kick. The stark light of the desert turned into an arctic night, with cold permeating everything.*

When she reached the slopes of the first mountain in her way, Emma felt her brows gather in vague recognition of the place she was in. She was sure she had been here before, but she couldn't quite remember. Turning around, she tried to find something to jog her memory, something that would prove to her that the familiarity she felt with the place was not in her mind. But, it was only when she felt something different from the soil beneath her feet, crouching down to inspect the sharp object that had drawn her attention, she realized where she was. For the object she had uncovered from the ground was a small scull glittering in the Sun. Holding the scull in her hand, purposefully letting it refract the rays of light falling on it, she morbidly noted that it was a pretty sight, despite the loss it signified, for she knew what race it had belonged to. The dwarves of the Enchanted Forest, as their very bones had been doused by the magic dust that had given them life.

*Every movement caused her pain. But, she couldn't stop moving, she couldn't stop fighting.*

With the realization that she found a skeleton of a dwarf, she knew why the mountain had seemed so familiar. She had been in the Enchanted Forest the whole time, and the place she was in now was where once had been the last operational mine of the magic dust, where she had had friends.

Falling to her knees, she cradled the scull in her hands, not surprised to see a large tear land on the bleached forehead in front of her. What happened to you? She silently asked. As it gave her no answers, she returned it to its previous spot.

Having placed the scull back in its place, she continued onward, pushed by the deep feelings of loss, guided by some innate sense she didn't think to question. With every new stride, she could feel something inside her die and disappear, bit by bit, leaving behind a widening hollow of emptiness and despair. As she walked, she sensed parts of herself being stripped away, making her less…

Her steps would make the soil beneath her bare feet shift and crunch, the low and sharp tones of grounding sands the only sounds heard in the desolate area of a place she once knew, the place her mother and her lover had once called home. Vast was the desert with nothing but dust and cracked earth for miles and miles.

Only when she reached a large winged skeleton, half buried in the red earth with dust playfully swirling among the humongous bones and jaws, she realized what the thing that she was missing was. What the feeling of emptiness and dread meant. It was a part of her that she hadn't even known she had before she had broken the curse in Storybrooke. The part she hadn't recognized in herself until the undoing diamond had been activated. Also, the part that had become an integral portion of both her identity and body.

Staring at the remains of one of the Lords of the Skies, the Sun bleached bones accusingly glaring at her, she finally understood. There was no magic in this world. And, without magic, the Enchanted Forest could not survive. Without magic, there was only death.

*She cried into the gale, desperate to get free, not for herself but for another. Regardless of her own torn flesh, she would not stop struggling against her bonds that cut deeply into her body.*

Suddenly, a thunder rolled over the clear skies, its loud explosion shaking the very earth around the blonde. She looked up, and suddenly, the heavens above her were not clear but covered in dark and ominous clouds, heavy with rain. It was dark all around her, as if night had already fallen, but without the benefits of the stars and moon to provide at least some light. Another thunder rolled and with it, the first drops of rain came, their heavy bodies splattering across the dry earth, with each splash loud in the silence following the thunders. And, with each new drop, the next one came faster, and faster, until the rain started in earnest, turning the loose and dry grounds into rivulets of mud, the mire covering Emma's still bleeding feet.

However, as the rain continued, Emma saw something change in the path she had made through the deserted plain. Something was standing out from the sludge that the earth was rapidly turning into, and it seemed that the difference was only showing in places where her feet had been previously. But, Emma could not be certain, for she could not see in the darkness of the outpour.

*Snow was falling over her rapidly weakening body, the cold permeating her and stealing what little of her will she had left. But, she could not stop. Not while there was still danger to her and her own. She had to fight. She had to get free. With a new surge of energy brought on by desperation, she renewed her struggle.*

The darkness was pierced by lightning, its lines tearing up the skies, and for one part of the second, it was bright, like in the daylight under the merciless Sun. The flash of it provided enough illumination for Emma to finally see what it was that stood out. She blinked in surprise, not minding the blackness that followed the lightning, for the picture she had seen was seared into her mind.

On the wet ground, where her footprints previously laid, erased by the rain, several blades of grass stood, proudly defying the mire swirling around them, exulting in the falling drops of water that would provide them with life and home in the previously lifeless earth. And, so, in every step Emma had made, grass arose, breathing life into the desert.

Another lightning streaked across the dark, and as it hit the ground near the Sheriff, the blonde jerked, stunned by the force of it, feeling the heat and electricity it had spread through the air.

With a surprised gasp, she sat up, her move dislodging the cloak she had been using as blanket, the sudden coldness bringing her to wakeful state quite quickly.

"You alright?" she heard the shifter ask her softly, the quiet words followed by barely heard footsteps nearing her.

Shaking her head, the blonde looked at the Wolf. "Yeah, fine," she murmured, frowning, her mind turning with the imagery of her dream, the strangeness of it making her uneasy.

"You slept only for a short while," the shifter added as she saw Emma turning to get up. "It's not even time for a change of shift. Why don't you try meditating yourself back to sleep?"

Emma considered it, but for some reason she felt the need to be awake, and the strangeness of her dream, both the desert scene and the weird dark, snowy one, had steered up her thoughts too much for her to sleep again so soon. No, it would be better for her to at least busy herself with the next watch, or do something else, like practice the forms in order to limber up her limbs and muscles, for sleeping on the hard floor of the cave and previous climbing had done her still recuperating body no favors. Crouching over her things she had taken off before dropping off to sleep, she picked up and placed the boot dagger in its place, forgoing the belt and the leather tabard she had been wearing over her clothes. Aware that Aileen was still standing above her, waiting for an answer, she turned to the shifter, her response ready as she slowly rose to her feet, but then a strange feeling passed over her, and for a moment, she could have sworn she had been caught outside, in the cold winter blizzard, trapped for some reason. She paused, tilting her head toward the entrance of the cave, as the feeling passed. She had heard something, something that reminded her of some portions of her dream for some reason.

"Do you hear that?" she asked her companion, as the sound came again.

"It's just a wind, Geilgeis. Wind and snow."

"No," the Savior shook her head, rising to her feet, her gloveless hand clenching around the hilt of her sword, pulling it out of its scabbard. "It's not just a wind, Aileen. There is something out there." She couldn't explain it, not even to herself, but she had to get out, to find the source of that sound, to find whatever poor creature that was making it for she felt that it was of importance. The Savior was called, and she couldn't not answer.

"Even if there was, you don't mean to go out there in this blizzard, Geilgeis?!" the Wolf harshly whispered, reaching for the blonde in dismay, hoping to stop the woman from leaving. "You'll freeze, Emma."

"Have faith in me, Wolf," Emma replied shortly, evading the Wolf's touch, and stepping toward the mouth of the cave in measured and determined steps, her sword at ready.

"Damnit," the shifter cursed as she rushed toward the sleeping men, kicking the younger one awake. "Keep the watch," she said to him, before she quickly picked her cloak and weapons. If the Sheriff was determined to stupidly risk her life in the middle of the worst blizzard Brocéliande had faced in decades, her duty was to stand by her and protect her as much as she could. Growling with annoyance, she ran outside, quickly catching up with the blonde.

The wind was terrifying, the shifter had to admit, and even she, blessed with hot blood of her kind, shivered with its pounding and freezing force. And, the snow was falling so hard that she could not see anything two feet in front of her. Making sure to walk right behind the determined blonde, she swore loudly when her cloak was almost torn away from her shoulders by the gale.

"Where are you going?" Aileen yelled over the loud winds as she wrestled with the cape, following the Savior, vaguely aware of the fact that the direction they were going in was not in the line with the paths the soldiers had established. When no answer followed, the shifter looked over to the woman beside her, and was surprised to see a look of pure determination and purpose on her face as she searched for the source of the sound. The Wolf was still not convinced that Emma had not mistaken the yowls of the blizzard for a creature in need, but she refused to leave the blonde to the dangerous weather.

Suddenly, a frightened shriek was heard above the storm, and the shifter startled at the panic and pain filled sound. Following the Savior in step as they ran toward the animal, the shifter was surprised by the speed the blonde was having, almost unbothered by the blizzard. In mere moments of their fast movements, the sound was getting clearer and stronger, guiding them toward the creature in need. Then, as Emma stepped over a large silt of snow, she disappeared from Aileen's view, her startled yelp heard over the howls of wind and shouts of the creature. The Wolf hurried and saw a slope leading into a small plain at the bottom and a fresh track Emma had made sliding down the slippery surface.

"Emma," the shifter shouted, cupping her hands over her mouth. "Emma!"

"Down here," she heard in the wind and peering into the darkness covered plain, she could see something move, and as she forced her eyes to cooperate, she could recognize the familiar outline of the Savior shifting over something, before swinging her arms in cutting motions. However, as she was about to join the blonde, she once more heard her speak over the wind. "Be careful, the bushes are thorny ones!"

In fact, Emma had learned that tidbit by landing onto one of those bushes after a sudden slide in the wet snow covered slope, having unsuccessfully used her sword to slow her descent, trying to stick it in the ground, breaking her blade in half as it had slammed into a stone during her slide. She winced. It appeared that the thorns had pierced through her ineffective clothes, feeling each prick on her skin, too glad that the cold would stop her bleeding for now. Forcefully extracting herself from the bramble, she had suffered numerous scrapes and cuts, but she didn't care, as she could finally see the creature that had screamed in the night.

Not five feet away from her was a dark coated Unicorn with its golden horn shimmering weakly in the night, and it was trapped in the bramble bush, the thorny branches wrapped around its still struggling prone body, covering most of its torso and legs, the red snow surrounding it. It was still fighting the vines around its body, trying to get free and reach something beyond it, hidden with snow and bushes.

Rising to her feet and holding on to her broken sword, Emma responded to the shifter's frantic call, and made her way to the ensnared creature, trying to cut through the thorn covered branches with what was left over of her blade, her arm swinging widely in order to bring more power to her cuts, as the branches were thick, wiry and tough, not caring at all at the thorns digging into her arms and hands at each pass of her sword. "Stop, girl," she spoke soothingly as she hacked the formed bonds away. "You are only making it worse," she added as she grimaced at the volume of blood coloring the snow around them, instinctively knowing that she was already too late. But the magical mare would not stop struggling, her wide and frightened eyes pinned to a spot a yard away, covered with snow and low growing bramble. "Aileen," she spoke loudly as soon as the shifter joined her. "There," she demanded pointing with her head, as she still tried to liberate the mare, caring not for her own injuries she had amassed fighting with the thorny vines.

Leaving the other woman to deal with it, Emma managed remove the bonds holding the mare in place, but as soon as the Unicorn was free, she could see that the wounds it had garnered were too severe for it to live through, even though the magical creature was still trying to rise up and reach the place in front of her, where the shifter was, weak and dying as she was.

"Emma," came the surprised call from behind her, calling her. The Savior jumped to her feet and found the reason of the mare's intense yearning to get to the small mound of snow. There, in the low bushes was a pure white foal, its coat gleaming in the darkness around them, too bright to even blend with the snow falling atop of it.

Emma did not waste a second, using her bloody hands to lift the youngling out of the thorny bush, noticing that the foal had been lucky, snagging only one of its front hooves in the bramble. With Aileen's help, the foal was quickly freed and brought to its mother. The blonde knelt beside them, using her knees to lift up the mare's head, mindful of its horn, her hands passing over its neck and forehead, providing comfort for she could do nothing more. Caring not for the blood that soaked her clothes, she held the mare as its soft neighs barely were heard over the calming blizzard, the soft cries issued toward the young foal, resting beside its mother, its horn rising only an inch over the bone of its forehead, unable to heal just yet.

And, sitting there, knee deep in cold snow, with the precious creature dying in front of her, Emma cursed her own inability to heal others, not able to summon even an ounce of her magic, not even with the help of abundance of unicorn's blood. So, she sat on her heels, her head bent low and her hair falling over her face, as she mourned for the loss of the magnificent animal, a fellow member of the True Kinds…

Not knowing what to do, but loath to interrupt, the shifter crouched at the arm's length, breathing deeply through the feeling of sorrow that had suddenly overtaken her, as she watched the last moments of the mare. Several minutes passed, and the soft neighing stopped, turning into struggling and rattling gasps, before silence enveloping them.

If the stilled cold form of the mare was not proof enough for the Wolf, the piteous neighs, sounding as heartbreaking cries from the youngling was a sure sign of the mare's passing. The brilliant white foal rose to its shaky legs and tried to rouse its mother, pushing its already stiffening body with its nose, with each futile attempt crying louder, and trying ever harder. Finally, refusing to watch the youngling suffer so, Emma lowered the mare's head onto the ground, and moving slowly, she gathered the foal into her arms, pulling it away from the corpse, her hands leaving bloody marks all over the foal's coat. But, even as she moved away, she could not bear the thought of leaving the mare alone, in the dark, at the mercy of the snow and wind, so she remained close, with the foal in her arms, holding it closer to share what was left of her warmth.

"We cannot stay here, Geilgeis," the Wolf murmured, throwing her cloak over the shivering blonde, covering both the woman and the foal in its warmth. "It's too cold," she cautioned, throwing a piteous look to the already freezing corpse beside them.

Emma sighed in understanding. They would need to bring the youngling with them and see to find it home after the weather cleared up. And, how did one go about setting a Unicorn colt for adoption? The creatures could not be tamed, not unless a powerful dark magic was involved. More, the youngling needed to be with its kind, for the Unicorns were already too few in this world – each new foal was more than precious. She sighed again. This time it was because she could not move her legs when she tried to rise to her feet. The heat she had garnered by physical exertion of swinging her sword and cutting through the sturdy plants had quickly evaporated moments after she had stopped chopping, and her already suffering body was not supposed to function in such temperatures, especially not poorly dressed, as she had been. Sitting in the snow had not helped matters at all.

Then, she felt it. The foal stilled in her arms for a bare second, before renewing its efforts to get out of Emma's hold, but this time, it was pulling in a different direction. And, there was also a light trembling, barely there, spreading through the frozen grounds and stones, vibrating just enough for her to sense it. "Just a minute more," the Savior whispered, her posture not as stiff as it had been moments before, tightening the cloak around her and the youngling, shushing it gently to stop it from struggling. "Just a little more," she added under her breath, almost too low for the Wolf to hear.

And, not even a minute later, the shifter saw why the blonde had insisted on waiting. Thunderous hoof-beats shook the ground as a herd of horses was approaching, too fast to be comprised of ordinary steeds. Unicorns – the shifter realized all too soon, moving closer to Emma, not liking the way the animals encircled them with their horns pointing toward the center of the circle. She did not move. There was no way she would risk getting impaled on the pointy ends of the magnificent creatures around her, not even for the Savior.

The leader of the herd, a glorious stallion, its silver coat gleaming in the night, stepped forward, its horn directed at the blonde, who still held the foal in her arms, with her head bowed down. As the stallion approached, Emma lifted her head slowly and seeing the Unicorn in front of her, she smiled. The shifter noted it was a friendly and welcoming smile Emma had directed at the dangerous creature, creature that she seemed to know personally.

"It's good to see you again," the blonde spoke softly, lowering her arms and, thus, releasing the young one into care of its kind. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."

At the heartfelt words of sorrow, the stallion lifted its head, neighing softly into the cold night air, looking at the kneeling woman before him. A young mare by his side gently urged the foal to get into the middle of the herd, where it would be most protected from both the strangers and the cold, leaving the two women to be dealt with by the males guarding the herd.

The stallion slowly approached the woman, lowering its head until his horn rested atop of Emma's forehead, sending a small pulse of magic into her.

Twice now, you have come to our aid, a soft, melodious whisper passed through Emma's mind. Twice now, you have bled for our kind, the voice continued, its soothing cadence filling the blonde's thoughts, apart from spreading physical warmth throughout her body, it was offering her forgiveness and pardon for what she seemed to believe to be her fault – not being on time to save the mare, as well. You already have our blessing, so receive our gift, for we have no more to offer you to assist with the campaign ahead of you.

"Your friendship and your kindness is more than enough," Emma spoke out loud, placing her palm onto the stallion's cheek, lifting her head slightly to look at the creature's eyes without dislodging the horn from her forehead. "I need nothing else."

You have it, and more, the stallion added, as another pulse of magic came from the horn into Emma's body, passing through every inch of her flesh, the healing power electrifying her every nerve. As she gasped, falling forward onto her hands, the stallion nuzzled her hair for a moment, before stepping around her to reach the corpse of the mare. He touched her horn with his own, neighing sharply as his coat started gleaming white with the power he possessed. And in the next second, the body of the mare was gone, the only remainder of it the blood soaked snow where it had once laid.

The sudden disappearance of the carcass of the mare signaled the end of the Unicorns' gathering, as the herd slowly went on its way to the place they have chosen to remain at during the snow storm. Only the leader remained behind, standing beside the still downed Savior, waiting for her to rise to her feet. He paid no mind to the shifter standing little ways behind the blonde, who watched them both with wariness and surprise. After several minutes, as the Sheriff remained on her knees and hands, still shuddering from the effects of the magic pulsing through her, he gently shook his mane, tapping his hooves with impatience, forcing Emma to lift her head and peer into the intelligent eyes of the powerful creature, and catching her eyes, the stallion lowered his neck, his gesture clear to the blonde.

Reaching with her hand for the stallion's neck, Emma allowed her cold fingers to sink between the strands of his glorious mane, holding fast as the beast helped her to her feet, waiting a moment or two for her legs to start working properly before she released her hold. Only then, she saw that her hand was still bleeding from the small cuts and nicks the thorns had caused, the drops of blood smeared across the silver coat of the creature. And, with great surprise, moments after, she saw her blood disappear, sinking into the skin of the powerful beast. The stallion neighed in surprise, staggering for a moment before turning his head toward the Savior, his intelligent eyes glinting in the darkness with power, as he gazed upon her with newly acquired fondness. Then, with another neigh, he propped up and twisting into an oddly graceful side jump, he galloped away, no doubt in hurry to join his herd.

"When my grandmother said I should expect great things from you, somehow, this wasn't what I pictured," Aileen broke the silence, her voice startling the blonde from her daze, stepping toward the other woman, apparently just in time to hold her steady as Emma stumbled. "Come on," she offered the other woman her shoulder, pulling her toward the hillside they had slid off before, her sharp eyes spying an easier path for them to climb.

Slowly, and with much effort, Aileen got them both up the hill. There, as she straightened up and glanced around, she froze. It was still too dark to see more than several meters in front of them, even for her Wolf eyes, and the weakening blizzard did not make things easier, making the shifter's orientation even more precarious. She could guess the direction they had come from, but, she was afraid that her lack of attention during the first part of their excursion would only cost them, because it was more likely that she would get them lost in the snow than bring them to the cave. And, Emma could not wait, Aileen was sorely aware, for the Savior was shivering, and the clattering of her teeth the Wolf could hear even over the wind. Glancing at the blonde hanging of her shoulder, Aileen sighed, not knowing where to go.

But, before she could get worked up even more, the blonde raised her head and chuckled softly, before she slightly turned the shifter to the other side, her arm still around the other woman. "That way," she pointed weakly, leaning more of her weight on the shifter.

"How do you know?"

"The stone. I can still feel its magic."

And, with that guiding beacon, the two women oriented themselves and started their trek back to the welcoming warmth of the cave. Soon, Aileen sighed in relief as she could see two small pinpricks of light, barely visible in the distance. The two soldiers must have lit the torches, the shifter considered, in order to show them the entrance to the caves. Or they were preparing to look for them. Either way, she now knew where the cave was.

Minutes after, the two women reached the border stone, and the shifter gently removed Emma's arm from her shoulders, letting her lean against the boulder, keeping the Savior's broken sword. "I'll be right back," she murmured gently at the blonde, before rushing out toward the cave to elicit the help of others, for both her and the Savior lacked the necessary strength to clumber up the mouth of their shelter.

Emma, glad that she wasn't moving anymore, as the trek back took what little of her power she had gathered after meeting with the Unicorns, placed her shoulder to the stone, holding herself up. With her forehead against the cold surface of the marker, she could not but see the carved Elvish symbol, the mark that signified protection, and with what had happened mere hours before, the way she had been urged to assist the Unicorns brought out a light chuckle out of the Savior, her tired mind finding the irony in those events, and in impish need to commemorate the action, she cleaned the etched symbol using her fingers to remove snow from the crevices. As she finished, she absentmindedly spoke the word in the ancient language of magic, placing her palm against the mark and closed her eyes, wondering what was keeping the shifter.

But, as her hand lay fully pressed against the symbol, it started to glow, the luminescence strong enough to draw her attention, despite her covered eyes. In wonder, she gazed upon the shining mark, too surprised to even move. She could feel something happening with the magic of the stone, but she was too tired to figure out what, and the magic the Unicorn stallion had bestowed upon her was still circulating throughout her body for her to make sense of anything magical happening in her with the connection to the stone.

But, after several moments, whatever was happening, it stopped. And, so sudden was the end of the magical convergence, Emma was left reeling, both mentally and magically, and her knees gave out and she slumped down the stone, her hand falling down and leaving a dark handprint, made of blood, covering the ancient symbol.

Blood magic, Emma realized. Somehow, she had used blood magic on the stone, her utterance of the phrase, along with her blood, mixed in with the Unicorn blood, doing something to the border stone, something that had forced it to react so obviously. While she was reaching her conclusion, her body had yielded under the exhaustion, and Emma slid sideways into the snow, losing consciousness, the last hazy image floating in front of her before enveloping darkness that of the extremely worried shifter jumping to her side to hold her up.

---

"Oh, damn it," the woman swore as her arms lifted the blonde's head out of the snow. She motioned to the soldier that accompanied her to kneel beside her. "Take her, and get her inside. She needs heat." The man quickly gathered the Savior into his arms and heaved, his face scrunching in surprise as he looked down at his burden. Who could have thought that the woman so much depended on, looked so small, now lying in his arms? Wasting no time, he hurried into the cave, lowering his precious cargo beside the roaring fire, while his superior was kneeling by, ready to help.

"What did you find out there?" Alistair yelled out in dismay when he saw the amount of blood covering Emma's clothes, his eyes briefly catching those of the shifter, as she staggered to their side. However, he did not wait for her answer, immediately setting to remove the ruined garments, to check for wounds. With deft movements, he cut through the cold stiffened fabric, noticing that even underclothes had been soaked in the dark liquid. Sending his younger compatriot away to get snow for the water, he urged the shifter to help him, as she was the healer, and much more capable of taking care of the Savior. But, as he shuffled slightly away, to make more room for the other woman, one of the soiled garbs in his hand caught on fire, the fabric quickly flaming away to ash, the red orange hues of the flame turning into the blue and purple ones, catching the man's attention.

"Unicorn blood," he murmured, as he rubbed his hand with the other, his reflexes quick enough to drop the rag before burning him. "What in the Queen's name was she doing with Unicorn blood?" he growled at the Wolf, scowling at the woman lying beside him, his voice loud enough to bring the other soldier to them.

"It's not what you think," Aileen spoke in a rush, as her hands flew over Emma's body to rid it off the rest of the clothes. "She saved one of them, and tried to save another. They had fallen into the thorn bushes, blinded by the storm. One of them got caught up in it, hence the blood." The Wolf leaned over Emma's face, for the first time noticing a cut right above her temple that with the heat of the fire had started bleeding again along with many other small cuts all over Emma's back and arms, and she looked up at the old soldier, her hands quickly using one of the left over rags to press on the most dire wound on Emma's head. "She is their friend, Alistair. The leader of the herd even allowed her to use him to get up to her feet." The words she spoke created a stunned silence in the two men. "Not even your Queen has curried enough good will with the herd to do so in a lifetime she has spent here, and yet, Geilgeis has done so in two months."

"Aye, sir, even one of the Gallants is her loyal friend," the younger soldier spoke, bringing a small cauldron full of snow beside the fire. "You know no fiend would be allowed near them, sir."

"Forgot 'bout that," the older man murmured as he shook his head. Then, he glanced at the clothes that had been shredded off Emma's body. "She'll need fresh garments," he spoke softly, and with a low grumble about sorcerers, dragons and unicorns, he moved away, letting Aileen work on the Savior, giving the two women privacy. Taking his companion to the corner of the cavern they were in, where their bags were leaned against the wall, he instructed the boy to find a pair of leggings and a shirt for the unconscious hero, while he sat down with a heavy sigh, keeping the Wolf and the blonde in his peripheral vision, just in case the shifter would need another hand to help.

He had been woken by the boy by his side, just in time to see the shifter run out into the blizzard, yelling after the Savior, and quickly disappearing into the darkness, her shouts immediately drowned by the wind. Grumpy for being awakened long before his shift, he had groused in bad humor, cursing both the storm and the hapless blonde who had rushed into it. And, while they had waited for the two women to return, he had worried. Under the light the fire had provided, he had seen the Savior's cloak spread across the hard floor of the cave, with most of the woman's things lying beside it, with the sword's sheath dropped atop of the elegant and expensive fur and velvet, the scabbard's silver details gleaming in the dim of the cave. And, with hours passing, he had to think about the exposure the blonde had been risking, rushing out into the worst storm he had seen in Brocéliande, during the coldest winter ever to grip the Infinite Forest, dressed so poorly for the weather.

When the shifter had finally reached the cave and asked them to help to get the Savior inside, he had thought grimly that the girl had deserved to suffer the effect of cold for her silliness. Now, he didn't know what to think. Rushing out into the worst weather, risking her life, to rescue a bleeding Unicorn… Perhaps, her title had been very well earned… But, her actions did pose another problem.

"Finn," he whispered softly, drawing the attention of the boy beside him. "Check the supplies. Do we have enough for two more days?"

"Barely," the other soldier replied grimly, as he had been keeping firm stock over their food. "We did pack more just in case, but the path is unusually hard this time, and we needed to eat more." Finn knelt beside his superior. "I doubt the next patrol will set out before the storm clears out fully."

"I doubt that, too, boy." The man sighed. "We'll have to see how the Savior fares before we decide anything." He looked over and saw the shifter wrapping the other woman's arms with hastily fashioned strips of cloth, the Wolf healer too focused on her task to mind the two of them and their talk. "If it comes to it, you can rush back to the village and bring horses to us. It's not that far, the rain and snow have kept us from making distance…"

"And, take the inner road, if need be," the young man added softly, fiddling with the garbs he had gathered for the Savior.

The old soldier considered him for a moment before nodding sharply. "Only, if haste is paramount."

---

Surrounded by sweltering heat, Emma awoke slowly, her consciousness gradually becoming aware of the soft voices conversing, as she recognized the people that talked not three feet away from her. With her eyes closed, she first tried to use her senses to gather where she was and what had happened to her, as she listened to the conversation flowing so close to her. She felt different from before, lighter in a way. But, heavier in others. Something had changed in her, something important, something to do with the magic that had been given to her.

"She should have woken by now," the quiet but harsh whisper of a man reached her through the pleasant crackles of the fire, interrupting her train of thought.

"We don't know what the Unicorn did to her, Alistair," came the reply of the Wolf, the voice coming from above her. "Between freezing, the cuts and bruises, and that, there is no way to know what should or will happen." Then, a gentle hand passed over Emma's forehead, pausing for just a moment, before it was gone again. "I feared she was in the cold for too long, but it appears I was wrong. And, the wounds seem to be healing properly as well." The hand was back, followed by another, as they tenderly unwrapped the bandages from Emma's arms, careful fingers gliding over freshly healed skin. When it was finished, Emma felt something warm fall over her, and she recognized it, only because the scent it carried. Her cloak, the specially treated fur and velvet, were doused in her own scent, but along with it, a small trace of another's magic remained. A trace she would recognize anywhere. But, as Emma thought of Regina, the shifter spoke again. "Perhaps, she just needs a little more time."

"The Sun has already set, She-Wolf," the soldier bit through his teeth. "We have food for one day more, and we are at least a full day away from the village. We need to send out the message."

"Fine," the shifter said after a moment of tense and expectant silence. "If she doesn't wake by the end of the watch, I'll go. I am the fastest, and not much bothered by the weather and night." With a sigh, the shifter fiddled with the edge of the cape she had used to cover Emma. "Not like I can do much here," she added in a resigned whisper.

Instead of speaking, the blonde moved her hand and reached for the Wolf's, grasping it gently as she opened her eyes. There, right beside her, was the healer, watching over her, the keen eyes sparkling in the firelight. "Welcome back," Aileen said, returning the squeeze of the hand. Then, as she offered a bowl filled with fresh water to Emma, she added, "Had us worried for a minute."

"It sounds like it was longer," having emptied the bowl, Emma murmured slowly, as she lifted her upper part of the body, greeting the old soldier with a simple nod. "What happened?"

The shifter and the soldier shared a look before Aileen helped Emma sit up. "I found you unconscious by the boulder, your hand trailing blood over it."

And, she remembered. She had used her own blood in subconscious act of magic to interact with the stone, and she still didn't know what the thing she had done had meant. But, having used the time since she had woken to assess her own body and power, she knew what the Unicorn had done for her. Or, rather, to her. She would never be able to repay the noble creature for it, for it had been a tremendous show of trust and gratitude that the stallion had given her.

"What did he do to you, Geilgeis?" as if she could see into Emma's mind and where it had gone the Wolf asked with concern, holding her up and peering into her eyes, the firelight dancing in the depths of green, making it seem amber and gold, unfamiliar and distant, but at the same time overly present. To the shifter, what ever happened with the Savior, it appeared to change her, in a way she couldn't describe or even determine.

Emma smiled. Her lips curved upwards, at first slowly, hesitantly, but before long, the smile was big enough to show some teeth, while reaching the eyes, perhaps for the first time in Aileen's presence. Reaching for the Wolf's hand, she took it into her own. "He helped," she said. "He helped with my magic."

However, she knew that it hadn't been all he had done. Along with jumpstarting her magic, the gift she had received had also cleansed her from the small tendrils of the red mist that had remained in her body, making it weak and fragile. It also soothed some part of her that had been causing her to respond harsher and more unpredictably than she would have ordinarily done. Now, that she could focus on how different she was from the night before, she could easily see how the healing magic of the forest dwelling creatures took life in her, bettering her own body, mind and soul along. No longer was she on the edge, tense and expecting danger around every corner. However, it didn't mean that the feeling she had had since the moment she had woken in this strange part of the Infinite Forest was gone, the sense of foreboding that followed her like an unescapable shadow tied to her body, the aura of dread and doom that bloomed with each new day. It was still there, but it didn't drive her to distraction as before.

"In fact," Emma added, as she motioned to Aileen to help her up, glancing down at clothes she was wearing and frowning as she didn't see the shirt and leggings she had worn before, but fresh ones. However, she didn't ask about it, as it didn't really matter, and she had things that are more pertinent on her mind. "It seems that now, as I can feel it properly, I can solve your little problem." Locking her eyes with the old soldier, she spoke with certainty. "I can take you to Dragon's Bluff in a blink of an eye."

"But, the patrol," Alistair protested. "We have our duty."

The Savior nodded, her smile turning indulgent. "I understand, good sir," she spoke gently, skirting around the hearth to walk up to him and place her hand onto his shoulder. "And, I don't want to stand in way of your duty. However, I can offer you this – there is nothing along the borders of Brocéliande that has no right to be there." Squeezing his shoulder in camaraderie, she peered into the old man's face. "If you decide to stay, I'll make sure someone finds you with additional supplies." Then, with a short nod, she left the man to make his choice, while she stepped toward the nook she had chosen for her corner of the cave, where still most of her things remained.

"Are you sure you should be doing that?" the Wolf whispered to her, making sure no one heard her but Emma. Her only answer was a piercing glare directed her way. She didn't let it deter her and she crouched beside the Savior, watching her gathering her belongings. "I was there, Geilgeis, when you barely survived the overcharge just a week ago. If not for your True Love's ingenious intervention, you wouldn't be here. So, I ask again, out of outmost concern; should you be doing magic?"

The blonde stopped her movements, her eyes falling onto the remaining piece of her trusted sword, and she took it in her hands, using the time to choose her words. Her fingers caressed the elegant hilt of the one weapon that for the last several weeks of her war had never left her side, it so familiar and comforting as she held it in front of her. It was lighter in her hands, out of balance she had been used to, and a large chunk of the blade was missing, leaving only several inches of jagged, sharpened edge. With a sigh, she reached for the scabbard and sheathed what was left of her sword, using a special twine that was part of the casing to lock the weapon in. Done with it, she lowered it down, beside her pack and looked at the woman beside her, her eyebrows scrunching in consideration.

"I am not simply doing magic, Aileen," she started, her voice nothing but a quiet whisper, meant only for the ears of the shifter. "I am magic. It is part of me, as the wolf is part of you. For me, unlike your friend, it is not a tool I can discard when I no longer need it. It's in my blood, my flesh, in the very tenets of my being." As she spoke, Emma allowed a small tendril of the power she had been keeping contained in her body escape through her skin and eyes, and for a brief moment of time, her frame had an aura of magic, making her glow otherworldly, white-blue circles of power appearing in her eyes; and in that moment, Aileen felt the incredible need to lower herself even further and bare her neck in supplication, her eyes wide and breath unsteady. But, as the moment passed, the aura was gone, suppressed tightly in Emma's core, and the shifter no longer had to obey, her tense muscles loosening. "I can survive without it, but I would not be much unlike this sword – looking pretty, but broken and with a large part of it missing." With an understanding and sad smile, she looked at the still shaken shifter. "The feeling, I assume, would be much the same to the feeling of suppression enchantment on you." Then, she flicked her fingers, almost lazily, and suddenly, all her things were orderly packed; she was wearing the outer layer she had forgone in her rush to find the creature in trouble, including her gloves, her satchel lying by her feet, and all the weapons and other trinkets in their place on her person, all the while she was still crouching down, her hand subconsciously moving to rest on the hilt of her sword. "You may not be in a shape of the wolf all the time, but the creature and its magic are in you, always. It's the same with me, I may not use magic for trivial things, but even now, it is doing its best to heal me and make me stronger." Rising to her full height, the Sheriff summoned her cloak, letting it rest on her shoulders, and offered a hand to the stunned woman, still sitting on her haunches. When the shifter accepted the hand, Emma helped the other woman to her feet and held her close, not yet finished with her speech. "So, your question should not be: should I use magic, but rather, can I afford to use that much of it. And, the answer is yes, I can. Thanks to the help of my friend." Patting the Wolf on her upper arm, she added, "So, I suggest you pack." Leaving Aileen to get ready, the Savior greeted Finn by the entrance into the cave and walked out, picking up one of the torches and lighting it up with the flame of the one stuck into the snow beside the young soldier, and carrying it so that the fiery end would be above her head, she followed the burrow in the deep snow leading to the border stone.

There, under the light of torch, a black mark in shape of her hand was visible against the dark gray surface of the boulder, right smack of the center of the carved symbols. A memento of the blood magic she had unwittingly used, the magic she still didn't know what was supposed to do. Coming closer to the marker, she allowed her shields to drop, extending her power and keeping the torch above her and the stone, she examined it. It took her only several seconds to realize that the border stone was sending out a stronger magical signature, much more powerful than earlier, and now it had distinctly her signature instead that of the First of the Tintagel, Gorlois himself. To make the matters worse, Emma could feel that every single marker boulder throughout the whole of Brocéliande had been affected the same way.

"Oh, shit," she murmured to herself, the full implication of her act slamming into her psyche, leaving her without breath. "Regina's gonna kill me," she moaned quietly, wincing. And, who knows what Morgan would do?

Deciding to keep quiet about it for the moment, Emma willed the blood mark to disappear before walking back to the cave, ignoring the shifter's questioning gaze. "Are you ready?"

"We are." It wasn't the woman that answered but the grim faced soldier beside her. "If I am not wrong, we will arrive just at the end of dinner." Emma smirked at the man and moved her hands, gesturing the others to gather around her, and with one thought, they were gone.

A second later, the four of them appeared right in front of the steps of the Marble Palace, a white mist disappearing as soon as they touched the ground. However, their arrival was not noticed by anyone. In fact, the small passages and roads of the village seemed empty of people, who, no doubt, were entrenched around fires on this cold night, in their homes or, as Alistair believed, in the communal dining house. "Go," she said gently to the two soldiers. "I am sure your superiors would be there, as well."

But, Aileen remained by her side, following her into the House of Healing, keeping the silence as they crossed the stairs and halls to where the room Emma and Regina had been sharing. "I am alright, you know," Emma spoke pointedly as she opened the door of the room, letting the shifter first. "No need to stay by my side just because of that."

"I can't just enjoy your company?"

"Not when you are hovering." Throwing her satchel at the foot of the bed, Emma removed her cloak and slowly untied the belt with her sword hanging of it, placing her weapon at the mantle, her gloved fingers arranging the straps beside it. Quickly glancing over the room, she noticed that apart from someone changing the sheets and clearing the table, nothing had been disturbed, and what was more important to the blonde, nothing was there to suggest Regina returning while she had been away. Then, she crouched down and prepared the cold hearth for fire, stacking the logs with her hands, needing to fill the silence that followed her words. Emma could feel the Wolf's eyes on her back, watching her carefully for a sign that would explain what was different about her now. The Savior did know she was behaving slightly altered to her conduct she had exhibited since waking up in Brocéliande, and she knew why – the meeting with the Unicorn had brought up something she had forgotten in all of the commotion over her sickness, almost dying and Regina's induction. A sense of purpose, something she had lost in the battle against the red mist.

"You know, if you are going to stick with me for the night, why don't you get us something to eat?" Emma said as she lit the fire, not turning away to look at the other woman.

Aileen cocked her head to the side, considering the blonde woman in front of her, before she sighed and walked out of the door in a brisk, determined stride that ringed off in the empty corridor of the cliff side healing place.

When the fire kindled into a large blaze, filling up the hearth with its flames and room with its warmth, Emma moved away, discarding her weapons and started taking off her clothes, starting with her boots, and leaving only her newly acquired shirt on, her mind on the incredible hot water pool she planned on indulging in. She didn't care that the Wolf would be coming shortly, or that she hadn't eaten for more than a day – she wanted a bath, a long, hot soak that would do wonders for her slightly stiff body that hadn't moved for hours on a hard cave floor. Opening the door to the bathroom and using her magic to light the candles inside, she noticed that someone had been in there, restocking the towels and heating oils, making it ready for immediate use. So, wasting no time, the blonde threw inside the pool several kinds of salts and worked the levers to start the water going, smiling when the high pressure hot water started filling up the pool.

"Er, do you want to eat in there," she heard a voice from behind her, and she rose to her feet, smirking at the shifter, who stood uncomfortably by the door, the sharp eyes darting over her naked legs before fixing themselves somewhere above Emma's shoulder, "or, um, here?"

The blonde swallowed a chuckle that was climbing her throat, not wanting to embarrass her 'minder' even further. If she was reading the shifter in front of her right, Aileen hadn't expected her to be in that kind of undress, not so soon after sending her out for dinner, and suddenness of Emma's state had startled the older woman.

"Do you want to join me, Aileen?" Emma murmured just loud enough to be heard over the hiss of the water, her voice lilting as she smirked. "After two days of rain, sweat and snow, and blood, I would imagine that a good, hot bath sounds perfect."

"I, I am alright," the shifter said and ducked outside, frowning at the low chuckle that followed her out. "Damn Savior," she grumbled, sitting at the table where she had put the food she had brought, reaching for water.

Emma heard the soft mumble and chuckled again, taking off the shirt of her body and slipping into divinely hot water, allowing herself to sink to the bottom before standing up, her hands pressing down the waterlogged tresses, as she sighed, feeling most of the tension of her muscles melt away in the steamy heat of the water. After spending several minutes only threading water, she quickly washed herself and her hair, the pleasure of bathing in a pool somewhat empty without her lover to share it with. So, wrapping her pale body in towel, she noted that the bruises from the fall and small cuts on her hands from the thorns had been all but healed.

She walked out into her room and sat near the still roaring fire, letting the blaze dry her locks and keep her warm. "Aileen," she whispered seriously, "you really don't have to stay." Looking at the Wolf, she reached for food, finally letting herself feel the hunger she had been denying since she had woken up. However, the shifter only shrugged and sipped her water, her posture relaxed but watchful.

Not minding the woman's presence, the Savior ate slowly and in silence, letting her thoughts wander. And so, time passed, measured only by the creaks of chairs and the crackles of the fire.

Silently monitoring the Sheriff while she was eating, the other woman considered the blonde in front of her. The surge of power Emma had demonstrated in the cave had left her wary, not mentioning the different way the blonde had been carrying herself since she had woken up. And, even before that, the Sheriff hadn't the same explosive reaction to her own blood as she had the time before. Or, at least, it hadn't seemed so, at the time. Now, as Aileen thought about it, she could see how the almost blind and frantic hacking and slashing of the thorny branches around the mare could have been the result of the blood haze, among other things. However, she believed that it had been the danger of the situation, for both the women and the mare, that had helped Emma keep her head. And, quite possibly, the presence of the magical blood of the Unicorn covering Emma's fresh cuts could have been another of the reasons.

But there was still something bothering her about the whole thing. Something she didn't quite figure out just yet.

Aileen looked over to Emma's face, noticing that the blonde had finished eating some time before, and now, she was leaning back in her chair, her gaze lost in distance. "What are you thinking about?" she wandered, quite surprised to realize that she had spoken out loud.

Emma blinked, startled from her thoughts. "My children," she murmured before she cleared her throat. "The second evening from now," she spoke, considering as it was already early morning, "it would be a day since Regina has left them in search for me." Still not understanding how the particular time phenomenon worked and what had caused it, she shook her head. With a sigh, she continued, "I wonder what they are doing. Is Henry giving trouble to his grandparents and father, or is he having the time of his life, wandering the halls of his mother's domain? How is Kyle dealing with the separation and the travel?"

"It must be so hard having them involved in all this, so young," Aileen spoke with sympathy. "Mine is full grown adult, the leader of his men, and I still worry."

Emma chuckled softly at the idea of babying Liam. "I don't remember who it was, my mom or Regina, who told me that mother's job is to worry about her children.

"Wise woman, either way," the shifter agreed. But, before another silence could fall over them, she spoke again. "How did you know?"

"Mmm?" Emma glanced toward the other woman, pouring what she had determined to be another batch of melomel into a cup. "Know what?"

"That the unicorns were trapped in the storm? You couldn't have just heard them, not over that blizzard."

Sipping her drink, Emma nodded slowly, thinking back to the moment Aileen was talking about. "It's going to sound strange, but, I think I somehow saw from her perspective in my dream. There were these flashes of something, images of snow and darkness, filled with panic and pain…" Shaking her head before she drained her cup, she sighed, reaching for the pitcher for another portion of melomel. "I don't know. I just felt I had to be there. I had to help."

"And, you did," Aileen added unnecessarily. Following her words Emma only hummed in non-committal way before rising from her seat and walking to the bed. Tossing away her towel and slipping beneath the covers, the Savior closed her eyes.

"Feed the fire," were her only words before her breathing evened out, leaving the Wolf to sit quietly at the table, puzzling out the woman in bed.

---

"I heard you had some adventure," Percival spoke as he arrived at the practicing circle, having found the blonde already going through warming up motions. The Sheriff was half crouched, her knees wide apart, her booted feet firmly planted into the cleared ground of the circle, and her arms high in the air, dressed only in deerskin breeches, thick shirt and deerskin vest, with her wavy hair lifted up in a messy bun.

Only slightly changing position, Emma glanced over at the Knight. "Tame one, compared to others I've been through."

Percival chuckled at her serious and truthfully modest tone. He had no doubt that the Savior had been through a lot, and seen a lot more. When he had heard Aileen's soft voice, filled with awe and respect, while she had been telling him of their night out in the blizzard, he had felt his own respect for the woman grow. "She-Wolf tells me you've healed. Care to test it?" As he asked, he walked toward the trap door with training weapons, picking up two pairs of heavy single hand short swords with unsharpened edges. Receiving the blonde's confirming grunt, he came up to her. "These are specifically made for sparring." Showing the woman the blunt edges of the unusually thick blade, he explained further. "They are heavier than most single hand and hand-and-a-half swords, for the sole purpose of making the arms stronger and more durable during the fight." Explaining further intricacies of the weapons, he gave Emma a pair, showing her several moves to allow her to get used to the weight and range of the blades. Satisfied with what she had learned up to the point, he started drilling her through movements and steps, slowly guiding her to the level where he could just outright attack her and be quite confident she would be able to defend herself, and even return the attack. And, she was a superb student, picking up things fast and making few mistakes that after several softly worded corrections disappeared. However, he didn't miss her occasional look down the path Queen Morgan and Queen Regina had taken several days before on their way to the Temple of Knowledge, the secret of Tintagel only few people knew about, and only Morgan knew location of. As time passed, the looks grew in frequency, and the blonde would get sharper in her movements, using more force than necessary.

When she used brute force to slam the sword out of his hand, rather than disarming move he had taught her that morning, one that she had mastered with ease, he put a stop to their dueling. "Alright, that's enough," he spoke, ordering Emma to stop. Taking the weapons out of her limp hands, he looked into her sweat covered face.

"Five days have passed," were the only words she spoke before she turned away, walking briskly, almost running toward the House of Healing, every once in a while she would throw a look backward, down the path, disappointed each time.

He couldn't blame her, for he too was worried about his queen. She had placed him in charge of the village in her absence, quietly explaining to him that he wasn't to look for them, no matter what happened, and that they would both return after the ritual was finished, one way or another. Percival shared the blonde's frustration, but, he knew that there was nothing he could do about it but wait. Something he had a feeling the Savior was not good at. Then, and there, in the middle of the practice circle, he swore to himself, that, for the sake of both him and the Sheriff, and the rest of the village, he would distract the blonde to the best of his ability. And, one of the ways to do it was to train her, to work her from Sunup till Sundown, tiring her out and possibly sparing others of her prickly temper.

He sighed heavily, his shoulders dropping. His instinct told him that the blonde wasn't going to be easily mollified, and that with her stubbornness, he had his hands full.

---

No one knew the location of the damned place Morgan had taken Regina to. No one even knew if such a place existed, leading the Savior to believe that the Temple itself was something not many people were aware of. Even Aileen didn't know, and being one of Queen Morgan's closest friends, it gave Emma no hope that she would find someone to who knew about it, much less guide to it. She was sure that she wasn't being lied to, having tested her lie-detector thingy on many of the subjects of her questioning. She wasn't pushing too hard, still aware that they had afforded her the curtesy of answering her questions because she was a guest of their beloved queen, but if she insisted on it, her demanding attitude could make things worse for both her and Regina, who was supposed to be the next ruler of these people.

For the first time since she had come to Brocéliande and Dragon's Bluff, she walked in the communal diner, her unannounced appearance causing the people of the village, already seated and eating, enjoying the evening among friends and family, to fall silent, all eyes directed at the newcomer. Emma hesitated at the entrance, uncomfortable by the scrutiny she was under, but then she squared her shoulders and walked over to where Percival and a few of the healers from the Marble Palace were sitting. Mercifully, the Knight motioned to a man by his side to free some space for the Savior to sit, waving to the closest person serving as a kitchen staff for the evening to bring out the dinner for the woman.

As she waited for the food, Emma realized that the young woman on her other side was Gwen, and with the healer's kind help, she was introduced to everyone at the table, Percival adding a word or two for each person during introductions, making the atmosphere around the table, and the room, easier and quickly, the normal conversations resumed, jokes and anecdotes were told, and Emma spoke only when directly spoken to, still unsure about her presence in the dining hall, but loath to return to her rooms just yet. If Shadow wasn't away, she would have been in stables, spending time with her equine friend, but the magical steed had gone off, probably hanging around Unicorns and other Gallants, if what Percy had told her was true.

Slowly, and with many cups of crude beer, she started enjoying the loud and merry mood of the people, her worries about her True Love and her absence quieted for the evening. And, with the amount of alcohol she had ingested that night, she stumbled into her room way past midnight, one of the healers walking by her just in case if she tripped over a step, and dropped onto her bed, haphazardly toeing off her boots and taking off her belt, tossing it on the floor, not caring for the loud clang it had made meeting the stone tiles, wishing the poor boy a good night before passing out.

---

The next day, Emma woke up not too late, and the first thing she noticed was the scent of a strong tea, a cup of it standing right beside the bed, closest to her face. For a second, she smiled, and rose, hoping to see the regal woman by the windows, waiting for her to rise, with a smart remark and teasing smirk ready at the moment's notice, but when she looked over, no one was there. Shaking her head, and ignoring the dull pain behind her ribs, she drank the tea and hastily freshened up, leaving her room, ready for another day of exhausting dueling and waiting.

Meeting Percival at the circle, she saw several other men wielding the same type of swords she had used the day before. Giving her no time to wonder, the dark skinned leader tossed the weapons to her, ordering others to form up around her, ready to jump in at his word.

"I know it's bothering you," the Knight spoke softly to her as he pretended to correct her stance, "but you need to lock it down." Pointedly peering into her eyes, he grabbed her shoulders. "You cannot be distracted. Your life depends on it. They are not going to pull their punches or back off without you giving them the word. If you slip, you get hurt." His harsh whisper turned lighter as he leaned in. "She will be here when she is done, and if there is something wrong, I believe you are connected to her deeply enough to feel it. So, consider this an exercise of your patience."

Emma snorted at his small jibe, clenching her hands around the grips of the heavy swords. "You are the one with Virtuous in your name, not me."

"True. Well then, instead of just waiting, let's get you ready for the world." As his lips lifted in a smirk, he raised his hand and gave out the signal for the attack, stepping back as he watched the blonde Sheriff parry with his men.