Chapter Text
It started when Emma was young and mostly alone. There were very few other children in the Royal Court, let alone the palace lands. Emma had no siblings or cousins to play with either as Fae birth was rare and arduous. She had her parents when they weren’t busy appeasing some Duchy or Lord and Lady, those in the court who tolerated her, or the staff when they weren’t busy with their duties, but it wasn’t enough. Emma felt as though no one really gave her any real one-on-one attention, and with no need for a nanny (the ones nannies they had tried and she drove to madness as proof positive) in the confines of the palace, Emma roamed from room to room and hallway to hallway in search of anything to do or anyone to be with.
Her parents loved her fiercely and she grew up knowing this; the times they spent together were wonderful. She especially loved holidays and the spare moments where her mother conjured her namesake snowflakes, or her father whistled at elk to come closer to nibble apples. Her father thrived in the sunny plains, wildflowers and crops bending to hear his whispers, winds obeying his laughing commands. Her mother preferred moonlight on branches covered in silver ice, blue birds in spring singing while red birds in winter cracked seeds in their beaks, the way water moved in gurgling streams, and the coziness of a nap in root hollows. Palace life kept them away from their special places more as Emma grew.
The palace of the Fae was the grandest in all the realms, or so she had read. Most of the structures were newly built after the Great War , but some pieces had been brought through a portal from the mortal realm, their stunning beauty remarkable. The palace itself was huge, sections unused but for celebrations happening only every few centuries. The main palace consisted of the kitchens, the Royal suites, the courtier suites, dining areas, library, music room, receiving rooms, the grand halls, and servants quarters. She found refuge in the kitchens occasionally, their excellent cook Granny allowing Emma to help, or on some days play with her granddaughter Ruby. They had originally played tag and made mud cakes, but Ruby's grandmother had been in such a snit after, that she punished Ruby with forbidding her to play like that again. They instead played dolls or made bead necklaces, but Granny kept a watchful eye, usually making Ruby work instead.
Granny said she was strict because their friendship wasn't properly sanctioned, although she had petitioned. The King and Queen had written they were to be away a few more weeks, so it was unsurprising. Promising to be careful, Granny eased off slightly, and Emma looked forward to those few hours each week as she wandered lonely halls.
It was in one of the older sections of the palace that she found him during her weekly wandering.
He always answered her, no matter the time of day or night, and most importantly he was kind. He had a wiseness in his voice that as a child was soothing, as he happily watched her play with dolls or spin a hoop.
When she began her schooling, she read to him in passing moments.
“And thus, the Goblin horde released a great evil that corrupted their land and sought a host. The Goblin King was… was… Pre…” She faltered on the word.
“Prepared. The Goblin King was prepared,” he corrected.
“Thank you! The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred and rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent. The Fae Navy was culled, all but a few regiments surviving. We honor those lost to The Dark Massacre on Gray Day." Emma felt her throat tighten at the thought of the dreary holiday and its muted muslin gowns. They sat in silence for a whole day, lighting candles as those who had lost someone made their pilgrimage. Liam made a soft tutting noise when she didn't continue after a long moment.
"It was no matter, for the Goblin King had a special blade to command the Darkness, the Vorpal blade. Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King's will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time. Long live the Fae dil N'lans Court, long live The King and Queen dil N'lans.”
“Lovely job Emma!” her painting whispered.
The name plaque below revealed his name. ‘CAPTAIN LIAM JONES, FAMILY BLACKWATER, IN MEMORIAM’ she read, tracing her fingers on the raised golden letters. He had been in the Fae Navy, the same that had their sails on display in a tapestry room. The same Navy that had sacrificed everything, her lessons making sure to remind her. She dutifully laid flowers and folded banners across stone cairns when she was trotted out at Navy remembrance events with some understanding. Death and the wars seemed to be such abstract thoughts, never having experienced them but in her studies. In fact, Emma wasn’t sure what memoriam meant in its entirety. Having a vague idea of someone being gone was the only thing she had to compare, but when she asked Liam, he told her not to worry. She trusted him and followed his advice.
As she grew into a woman, Emma learned what it meant, and understood his reluctance - and her own subconscious'. The painting that had been her closest confidante and holder of all her precious secrets (for example when she had stolen a plate of cinnamon pastries meant for a Lord, eating them all high up in a tower) was just that. A painting. A painting of a man that had been a captain in the Great War, until he had perished in the Dark Massacre. There was no real Liam - just an imaginary friend that kept her company until time passed and she could truly take her place among the court.
This realization did not stop her visits nor his wise voice in her head. She visited as often if not more than before, bitterness from stretched days of being told how to sit just so, or how to cover her glare when a noble acted like a pretentious ass in her presence seeped into her conversations. He soothed her loneliness as it leaked further into her life, and she would not part with him.
She told Liam about her parents.
How she couldn’t leave the palace without a royal escort, a dozen men accompanying her to pick a bouquet as their horses trampled the meadow, destroying the flowers. Or how she snuck down to a grotto and swam, sometimes in just a slip for the thrill of the indecency. Emma longed for any of the village children as playmates, but her royal duties, courses, and “proper decorum” (as her mother would say) kept her from any sort of real connections. Her books, all of the tales of the realms and the old world weren't enough anymore without being able to see outside of the palace, but any talk of change was ended in heated argument. She knew nothing but the safety of her palace, but how could she dare opine, and to who? Not for lack of trying or arguing - King David passed down his courage, and Queen Snow had passed down her stubbornness. Emma heard their remarks of what a combination it was every quarrel.
While some of the other young ladies of the court had taken suitors or begun courting, Emma was sure the result of any such thing happening to her would cause her father to go truly mad. King David had almost caused interrealm diplomatic incidents in trade with his attitudes towards certain sons of Lords that had looked at Emma too long.
She told Liam about her tutors.
Ruby, a woman beyond skilled in tracking was easily her first real, and royally approved, friend. The Queen herself had allowed the girl further privileges in the palace, placing Ruby in the same decorum classes as Emma, much to Granny's delight and Ruby's dismay. Ruby made do by skipping them, a feat that Emma could never attempt. Ruby's talents were wasted on sewing, curtsies, or dancing; her quick wit and ridiculous half true stories leaving her as cunning as a wolf. She easily talked King David into letting her have a tutor position teaching Emma about snares, edible plants, and tracking game or predators. Afterwards, Granny would bake Emma and Ruby treats with their foraged items, with extra to stow around for the Court.
Emma adored her tutors August, a wood elf who specialized in History, and Jefferson, a pixie that taught the Arts. They had come together to the court after being married during war time and were easy to feel safe with. Jefferson could sing well enough to rival Queen Snow herself, and August gazed at him in constant adoration. While Emma studied her history quietly, August would make small wooden flowers or other creations that she would find in the music room the next day, lying on the piano or near the harpsichord. Jefferson’s prized possession was a broken and battered violin August had carved for him in the old world, the wood from the same tree as their small cabin. It was the only thing he took when they fled.
There was Graham, a Fae that didn’t hail from any court that Emma knew of. Although, for a princess, or any woman of the court for that matter, it was rare to use a sword, The King and Queen demanded it. Graham was easy pickings next to her father. Her father had hired him to teach her sword play, but had since made no qualms about regretting it for various reasons. Emma was sure it was due to Graham's gaze beginning to linger too long on her lips.
Liam had heard about her various refusals to court anyone due to her father, but when Graham brought Emma flowers at the beginning of a lesson and her father saw, he heard her rant about Graham's idiocy for hours. Now, the King stood sentry over every lesson, watching Graham sweat from swordplay with the addition of knowing that any slight flirting could end with him having to search for another job with one less arm. Emma hated that her father watched them.
The newest member of the court was a renowned bowsmith, one Mr. Locksley, hired by the Queen to teach Emma and fuel her passion for archery. Emma had never really felt a use for it, but dutifully accepted another task to fill the hours of her days - particularly if that task was avoiding her tutor of magickal arts, decorum, and deception. Regina.
She studied magical forces for harm with Regina, decorum, potion making, alchemy, lying, seductive disarmament (it was all in the cleavage, lewdly enough), state secrets, cryptography, political history, strategy, and trained herself against poisoning. Regina was one of her favorites to complain about.
“She hates me, Liam. She makes it her mission to make me feel stupid. I can’t tell you how much we go over the same things, about how my parents united the realms with their marriage, how the realms are all connected but for one, and how the Goblins are banished until their next appeal,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “How many times do I have to hear the stories about brides getting stolen or my parents sealing the Darkness? I’m the proof they were successful, that the Darkness and Goblins are sealed away! Every appeal the Goblins have made has been either a disaster or violent. Sometimes both. Nothing is going to change.”
“Never bet against things changing, Emma,” Liam spoke in his low voice as she sat next to his painting, blowing blonde hair from her face.
“Now you sound like her,” Emma pouted.
l
“Good. She’s teaching you something. Education is important and so is knowing your history. Our history.” He emphasized the last words, and Emma felt a pit in her stomach.
“I hate that you’re right.”
“You wouldn’t come here and sit with me if you liked me being wrong.” She could hear a smirk in his tone, though his portrait always showed him with the same determined grimace.
Sometimes Emma asked him about his life, on which he mostly stayed silent, his few answers vague.
“What were you like?” she'd whispered by candlelight as snow fell one evening.
“I loved my family and my land,” he told her, in an even reply.
She sighed, annoyed. “Yes, but I mean, were you a good man? A good leader? Did you deserve the love you were given?”
He was silent for a time, before speaking slowly as if with great thought.
“Emma, you'll learn this one day. Being good is subjective. What one man may think is good, another will see as monstrous. A good man can fall into darkness, someone steeped in the farthest trenches of evil can find the strength to redeem themselves. I believe I was good.” He paused, sighing lightly. “And no man can ever tell you if he deserved the love he received. Only the one who gives it willingly can.”
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It was bright outside as Emma walked barefoot in the grass. Ahead of her, Graham stood as stars fell from the sunlit sky like diamonds.
Graham offered her a bouquet as he had last autumn, filled with buttercups, lavender, tulips, baby’s breath, cone flowers, and daffodils. His hands had lingered, warm and rough, as he stepped closer to her form. Her breath caught and her heart beat faster than any swordplay could bring. He’d looked at her lips, but this time her father hadn’t taken the crook of her arm to pull her away. This time, he stepped in closer, a hand cupping her chin as he led her to his lips and -
A hard smack of a book against her head pulled her out of her dream.
“Princess Emma.” Regina’s clipped tones were unmistakably irritated, even more so than usual. “Since you are so keen on paying attention, I suppose you’ve memorized the realms and their unique histories regarding our own?”
Emma sighed. No luck, she was still with Regina, still trying to fend off her parents’ worry as the Goblin appeal moved closer.
“I’m sorry Regina.”
“You should be. The King and Queen have been up for days now preparing for the upcoming appeal, and the judgement of the realms. Do you think anyone but you are taking having Goblins in our realm lightly? Or that having the Royalty of the United Realms here will be easy?” She glowered at Emma, and Emma squirmed in her chair.
“No I don’t, but I am ready to finally be apart of something more -”
“Princess, this meeting is more important than you will ever know. The outcome of this will change everything for you. You've been too young for the last three, and this one is more important than ever.” Regina smacked the book down on Emma’s table. “Recite.”
“And thusly, the accord was struck. The Darkness sealed in the old palace. The Goblins may appeal their desire for peace every 250 years in the service of a fully seated council. Regardless of the appeal’s outcome, trade will continue between realms, and the Goblin kingdom will present Dwarves with the iron they need to forge what Fae cannot, to mine Pixie Dust crystals for the Fae realms.” Emma recited from memory. She winced at the thought of iron. She couldn’t imagine how painful the burns would be, and envied Dwarves for their ability to work with it.
Regina smiled. “Good. Continue.” She paced, opening a fan to provide a breeze for herself. The Baroque style was her favorite to wear, deep cut necklines and a fan her go to wardrobe choice any time visitors were in the palace.
“This trade must occur, or the Forge of Seven will cease to enchant the tools to extract dust and Pixie dust will be unable to be cultivated for the stability of the realms portals, shields, and wards,” she intoned.
“And?” Regina asked, extending her fan.
“Which in turn could let the Darkness, hidden somewhere in the realms free, destroy the realms, or allow banished Fae in, creating turmoil in the face of thousands of years of peace.” Emma finished, and looked up, still indifferent.
“Alright. Now off to your music lesson. You’ll be playing for guests in the Blue Parlor.” Regina’s face had gone back to its normal dour expression and she shooed Emma off.
Emma hated visitors, never knowing when she would run into a dignitary, ambassador, or royal who expected her to hold conversation; or, as she was now, never knowing when she would be forced to entertain. Her parents’ worries had become an itch under her skin. No one believed she was ready for the Appeal. Admittedly, her decorum was… at best, icy. None of the Royals or courtiers were terribly interesting, content to discuss trade or gossip. Whenever possible, she bucked formality and toed the line with rules she thought were preposterous. Rituals and traditions she found unfavorable were done robotically and with constant sarcasm or little joy. Her reputation as a beautiful and quiet princess was paired with warnings of her lethal verbiage, and unwavering disdain for the older laws in Fae culture, leaving her circle of courtiers almost entirely closed. Those that sought her favor were quickly shot down, and those that persisted played on the razor-sharp edge of the Princess's amusement. Emma wanted more.
She still visited Liam, even with the visitors milling around. His wing was dusted and set up for the lower courtiers who would not arrive until the appeal was in motion, which made it relatively safe. They wouldn’t be here for another few days.
“See this?” she said, pointing to a picture in the book she found in the library. She showed him a picture of a bear. “They’re tiny in the old land and they can’t talk well. Have you been there? Or to any of the other realms?”
He didn’t answer, only made a humming noise of amusement.
“I just… I want to see everything.” She closed the book, tracing its peeling leather binding. “Liam, can I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
She sighed, letting her head knock back against the stone. “I don’t want to rule.”
“It’s your duty, it isn’t a matter of want,” he said after a moment. He almost sounded wistful.
“I know, but…” She looked up at the frame of his painting, trying to pretend that for just a moment the expectation of her birthright wasn’t a duty. “I just wish I’d had a chance to see anything. To do anything. To change things, and not sit rigidly until someone decides I can take my place in step with the set tread. I am going to be three thousand years old before I’ve even been kissed at this rate.” She thunked her head against the stone again. “I just want to know what the world has to offer before ruling it.”
“The world outside these walls isn’t everything. It’s good and bad, and a lot of in between.” His words were slow, and tired sounding. “Not everything is always going to be this way, no matter how much things seem to stay the same. Even you. Change can sneak up on you in an instant, Princess. You may find in time, the throne seems less like a cage and more like its own pair of wings.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She gathered up her books, heading back to her chambers. “I’ll see you after the appeal.”
She didn’t hear a reply.
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“Emma!” Her mother sounded so surprised to see her, having only spoken in passing for weeks now. “Oh, Emma, you look beautiful.”
Emma sighed, the white dress beautiful on her frame. She fidgeted, and heard the seamstress hiss before a pin poked her thigh.
“Ow!”
“Sorry, Highness. Just, please stop moving -”
Emma huffed, uncomfortable. The appeal was starting soon and today had been a blur of misery. Her mother had managed to take time to see her here, and soon they’d walk to join her father in a greeting line. They’d greet the realms in order, lastly welcoming the Goblin envoy to their appeal, beginning the proceedings. This was the most important event she would have to attend at her station, her role heavy on her mind. All day she’d been puffed and preened, Regina had quizzed her for hours as she endured an ungodly amount of undergarments tied onto her.
“There. You look stunning, Highness.”
Emma looked in the mirror, and surveyed herself. Her hair was long and curled, white flowers and baby’s breath braided in a complex style along her crown, pieces pulled in loose waves that traveled down her back. The dress was fitted, the sharp square cut of the neckline made softer by the long lace sleeves falling about her wrists and a flare at the waist where layers upon layers of lace had been placed over traditional formal skirts. An over corset in the same white lace, pulled far too tight for her liking, finished the dress along with a train that fell behind which was only slightly less annoying.
It was another reminder that it was for no one. She was a naive, protected princess who would have a match picked for her one day. Emma sighed.
“Emma, you look radiant. Just beautiful,” her mother gushed, helping her off the seamstress’s pedestal. Emma's satin slippers made no noise on the stone floor. Another reminder that she was barely here at all, an ornament in an ongoing display.
“Thanks.” She took a step, and to only further her annoyance, realized she’d have to hold up her skirts as she walked if she wasn’t to trip down a set of stairs. Emma huffed, but when her mother's head snapped up, she hid it behind a cough.
“Are you ready for this?” Snow asked her, eyes gentle. Emma nodded, all emotions buried deep. ”Good. You’ll be fine.” She led Emma down the hallway, her father joining on her other elbow with a small, tired smile. It didn’t reach his eyes.
“There you are,” he whispered. “The two most beautiful women in all the realms.” Emma couldn't help the blush that crept up her cheeks, even if it was only her father saying it for kindness. She'd always been closer to him and his sunny disposition, finding comfort in his dismissal of the Royal Court’s norms. Lately, he chafed at her brisk dismissals, requests for freedom, and soured attitude regarding her duties; but today, it had been made abundantly clear, was about peace.
He held the rigid posture and thin lipped smile that the weight his title demanded. Emma looked down at her slippers. The beading caught the light as they stepped into the chamber where a procession of their courtiers awaited. Everyone was dressed in their most garish finery, most chatting quietly amongst themselves. August and Jefferson were quarreling over if they looked too matched, August assuring his jittery husband that they looked fine and shooting a wink towards Emma.
Ruby was talking animatedly with the others her age, telling tales as she often did to spook the courtiers.
“Watch the Goblins… they'll take you as a bride if you aren't careful! They make you drink their blood and you get married in the dark all alone, no one to hear your -”
“Screams!” Graham jumped from behind them, causing several shrieks while he and Ruby laughed. Emma felt a flare of jealousy, not realizing Ruby and Graham had grown so close. It wasn't surprising, her docket had been full of late, and they were allowed more free time. They were allowed fun, and rendezvous, no chaperone or appointments to keep. Taking a breath, jealousy joined the other feelings that were neatly bottled away within and concealed.
Regina stood apart, giving orders to several servants with Granny, confirming finishing touches and coordinating various tasks to solve anything that had gone amiss. Emma watched in bemusement as her archery instructor Locksley tried to gain a moment of her time to give her a rose for her hair, only to be ignored. He'd gone to tap her on the shoulder, only to have her scowling form round on him.
Emma didn't hear their conversation, but giggled, her parents both shooting her a look. She stifled it quickly.
With a clearing of her throat, Snow called the court to order.
“To another peaceful Appeal, and to the realms!” Snow proclaimed.
The court echoed her, their voices carrying as they led the procession to the meeting hall, where royalty and representatives were arriving.
There, guards on either side of the archway leading to the Receiving Hall and Grand Reception beat their staves to grab attention. The hall hushed into quiet anticipation. The Receiving Hall steps had been decorated with a plush purple runner, covered in luminous dust and moon flower petals, white flamed chandeliers making the polished marble floor gleam like bone in contrast. As her parents were announced, Emma swallowed the stone in her stomach as she stepped forward when her turn arrived.
“Princess Emma Swan N’Lan.” After a pause for bows, the guards used their staves to make three more echoing beats. “All may rise, and proceed to greet the Royal family.”
The procession that made its way to them was led first by their close kin, other Fae that held themselves to the Royal family's rule. Wood and Dark Fae greeted Emma with excitement, the latter in silvery clothes and kohl, the former in soft silk the color of autumn leaves. Pixies joined them shortly after, the rainbow of colors in their clothing shimmering only when hit by the light, reminding Emma of a beetle’s shell.
The Dwarves came next, short and full of pride, jewels and ribbon braided through their long beards or coiffed hair. Many of them offered rings or jewelry to Emma or her mother, but protocol dictated she must decline as to not show favor, much to her dismay. Her mother wore a Dwarf fashioned tiara, and snuck in rings or jewels regardless of perception, but she showed favor to most - on the surface, at least.
Their other close kin, the Elves, followed after. Tall, prideful, and very reclusive, they kept to themselves in a strict caste system. Emma had heard her father bemoan their interactions, calling them snobby and boring. Emma only thought they were beautiful, even without the ability to bend magic without a wand or channeling tool. They also could have children easier, which led to being reclusive in the first place, and the restrictive caste system leading to strong, ‘pure’ genes. Emma found that less beautiful, often decrying it to Regina in heated debate.
The elementals that followed next were thin, tall, robed Fae, in a rainbow of colors and swathed in a myriad of shimmering auras that corresponded with their element. Shape-shifters, they were a delight to the eye to behold. Dark brown or moss-green elementals stood tall as trees, root and vines or wildflowers climbing their skinny limbs. The few silver or albino wore halos of moon flower on antlers, glowing faintly under the chandeliers. A few simply looked human, wearing court finery that was barely distinguishable between Emma's own.
Their queen came last, a tall Hol blessed with the ancient curse of elemental enlightening, followed by her attendees that carried the same heavy gift. Snow had told Emma many times that it was these touched souls that had granted Emma her light magic, as it was written in their culture that her birth heralded a cosmic shift in balance after the war. They were a neutral party, never fighting unless the balance of the world had leaned, seeing all that could be and all that wasn't at once. Many of them traveled through time and the pocket realms to maintain the magic there, and prevent passage with unsanctioned portals or magic. Whatever side the scale tipped to in the end, they would find itself an ally in the Elementals.
In an absurd twist, one of the younger of the Elementals had been appointed to Emma for a small amount of time. He had measured her magic, disconcerting at first due to his brilliance and his shifted appearance of a young child. Named Henry, the Elemental turned out to be mischievous, making plans with code names, and reviving Emma's love of pranks. After she was chastised soundly for 'Operation Cricket', the Duke terrified to open his closet to retrieve his trousers, their friendship had been mitigated. They had been cordial, but Regina had loved having a child (even just in appearance) around the palace again, and took over separating them from each other. For to short a while it was like having a sibling. Henry had chosen another form since then, no longer a child but a man. He gave a sly wave and Emma winked at him.
The Seafolk (Sirens, Naiads, Mermaids and Nymphs) followed after, many wearing charms that allowed them to walk on land or suspending themselves in water. Emma shook hands with a curious crimson haired Mermaid princess encased in salt water, King David watching them amusedly as he spoke to the King of the Seafolk. The Anisapi tensed, but said nothing in that regard. There had been a long fight between the two races over the treatment of a race cast out by the war. Regina made it clear that Emma should know as little as possible about the entire sordid debacle, as not to ever show favor to either the Anisapi or the Seafolk. Any excuse to escape a lesson seemed good enough.
The procession finally ended, the court taking a reception with the different realms as they awaited the Goblins. Emma felt exhausted, her cheeks aching from the fake smile she had been wearing. An Anisapi approached her, a tall monkey with golden fur and large brown eyes in a dark emerald waistcoat. He spoke for several minutes during which she nodded politely and enthusiastically, until his paw had found its way into her hair, and his reedy voice had lowered.
An Anisapi female hurried over, another monkey with green ribbons braided in her reddish, bristling fur. She pulled the Lord away with multiple apologies and platitudes, and Emma composed herself. Anisapi were rarely so forward. Being primarily Fae and animal, they were trickster spirits yes, but not to their kin. Their Vizier, Pann, lounged on a chaise in his velveteen emerald vest coat, his goat haunches twitching as one of his satyr attendant boys fed him grapes. He gave Emma a saucy wink before pouring wine down his throat.
Emma marched over his way, shooting glares at giggling fans and satyrs that Pann kept in his clutch, their self placed moniker of Lost Boys disconcerting at almost a millennia old. The court whispered rumors about him being a treatise breaker, but her parents had never caught him and had only pleasant dealings to speak of. Many still swore that he broke their laws with flagrant disregard, returning to the human world with impunity. Some even said he had a realm of his own, a terrible lair of horrors beyond imagination, called ‘Neverland’.
Emma was unfrightened. The Anisapi leader, Heston, was a wise and honorable Anisapi; one of the last true forest Gods of the old world. He was ancient, but very brave and incredibly strong, a boar the color of a thundercloud, tusks long and unforgivingly sharp. Pann stood no chance against him, even with deceit and trickery.
“Do you mind Pann? Drinking before we begin seems -”
Pann snorted, arrogantly and without conceit. His snide tone reminded her of the trail a slug left, sticking to her skin like autumn leaves after rainfall. “Princess, I know you'd normally be in bed by now with a glass of milk, but wine is how some of us get these droll events over with. It's not like we can ritualistically disembowel a human anymore for fun.”
When her eyes widened and she gasped, he let out a loud guffaw echoed by his tittering following.
“Oh, Emma. Do calm down, we never did that at political events.” When Emma let out an indignant sniff, and whirled to turn away from him, she heard his snide reply call from behind her. “That was only on the solstices, darling.” More laughs came from behind her.
Stomping away, Emma retreated to a window to get away from the growing din of the excited crowd. She gazed out a window, waiting for the Goblins to appear at the castle gates. The sound of a throat clearing caught her attention, and she turned to look at a scaled man, green and gold mottled pale skin, topped with a shaggy head of brown hair mixed with eagle feathers. The Goblin, or half Goblin, had one brown eye and one reptilian gold, his teeth and nails sharp. Emma stood taller.
“I'm so sorry, good sir. I was unaware the Goblins had arrived and I beg pardon.” Emma curtsied, bending low. The man chuckled throatily.
“You must be Princess Emma. Your beauty becomes you, a truly beautiful woman and Fae." Emma blushed, the compliment so direct and forward, but within convention. The Goblin was well mannered, and it caught her unaware.
"I am, yes." Raising her head, she gave her hand for him to kiss, surprised by the delicate way he held it. His palms were a mix of soft and scaled smoothness, a long claw scraping along her wrist sending a chill across her skin. Emma pulled away harshly, his eyes narrowing in a way that made her feel increasingly uncomfortable. "Who do I have the pleasure of addressing, with and without such formality?"
"I am Prince Nil of the Goblins, it is my pleasure to see you ripe. I have heard that we are both kindred spirits who push at formality and it's bindings. Is this true, beautiful one?” He gave a small bow, his words and the way he leered made Emma's skin crawl. His tongue flicked out, long and shinily wet, unmistakably forked as he licked his lips with not only far too much suggestion and luridness. Emma took a step back in spite of herself.
“I'd have you remember yourself, my Prince. It is… It is unbecoming for me to listen to or respond to such lewd language even given as a token of flattery. I beg of you to be less coarse.” Focusing with all she could muster of Regina's teachings, she glared pure ice.
“Ah, but it is me who must beg in your court.” He pinned her to the glass, his breath hot against her skin. Dragging a nail down from her ear to her neck, he grinned lavisciously. “In my own kingdom, I would not. I'd have you without treatise, without meetings, without conversations over diplomacy. Goblins take what they want. Formality has no place in true law.”
“Luckily for the both of us then, that I have a voice here to say no. I would keep my diplomacy and any other manner of dignity.” Emma ducked out from under his arm, eyes steely. “Good day, Pri-”
He snarled, harshly pulling her arm and yanking it with violent force. Emma let out a yelp but his hand clapped on her mouth as he pulled her head back by her hair.
“You do not dismiss me, you pompous Fae wench. I dismiss you. You are beneath me, a tool for a greater cause. I dismiss you, and in the underground, bitches like you have no voice." She bit at his hand, and the hiss that escaped his serpent mouth not in pain but something darker. Emma struggled, but his long fingers pushed against her tongue sharply, the sharp movements making her gag. "You are such a prize, my golden treasure, I will have you as mine."
Nil's breath was hot on her neck, withdrawing his fingers alshe took a gasp of air as he wiped them on her bodice, groping there, her embarrassment and rage at his lewdness finally snapping her out of surprise.
"Let go of me, you weasel swallowing, ill mannered, swine tongued -" Emma punched and kicked, his hand falling from her hair as she pushed Nil away. He caught her arm in mid blow, twisting to spin her into him, his front against her back so that she had to feel his body. He smelled like mildew, soil, garlic, and Emma gagged again.
The prince chuckled at her reaction, rubbing against her in a rolling motion that pushed him against her in ways left for a marriage bed. "We take them, just like we take our women, and that goes without questioning. Remember that Princess. I have a feeling you'll find it ever so important in your formalities .”
All etiquette fled her mind as she fought, trying to get away from the nightmarish creature. With an ungrateful twist, he wrenched her back further, grinding his pelvis against her lewdly before throwing her to the ground. Emma hissed up at his face, but Ruby and Graham interrupted them as the Goblin prince turned away, happily striding back to the party. Ruby ran to Emma's side, immediately worried.
“Emma, are you alright?” Ruby whispered, and Graham looked her over before glaring in the direction of the Goblin.
“Emma, did he -” Graham started, but Emma pushed herself up and shook her head with her best regal smile.
“I'm fine. Go back to the party, I'll speak with my parents about this. Don't worry, and no mention of this, it'll be fine.” Emma watched the two exchange worried glances, but they bowed and made their way back to the party with a few quick looks back. Emma let her face fall, chewing her lip. So much for everything going smoothly.
Hurrying to talk to her parents, she could hear their raised voices from the council chambers far before she entered, the council in place early by a quarter hour at least. Something was very wrong as a heated discussion was taking place.
“Absolutely not, Gold. We haven't considered it for various reasons, and feel maybe in the next couple centuries -”
“You're acting as if it will be a choice when it's clearly a demonstration of unity, strength, and power, bringing the realms together finally -”
An Elf spoke, “If that is the case, all kingdoms and realms should have claim, and a chance to give their dowry, not just you,” she cleaned her fingernails, bored. “Although it is a beneficial union.”
“My daughter has a choice in this!” her father hissed, and a few nobles laughed before realizing that it was not a joke. “She is a grown woman, and has made it clear she is not ready for -”
“I'm not ready for what?” Emma said, fury set in her resolved face. She walked towards her empty seat, her mother looking at her warningly, and her father looking ashamed and apologetic. “I believe that at last time I checked, I did have my own voice,” shooting a perfunctory glare at those who had laughed, she continued, “and I definitely have the power of choice.”
Her father sighed and started to speak before the Goblin cut him off, his voice registering as the man her father had called Gold. Rumplestiltskin Gold of the Gold bloodline, King of the Goblins.
“Princess Emma, my son and I have requested your hand in marriage to unite our kingdoms.” He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes and looked unnatural on his face. Emma stared at him, the taste of unsaid truths pouring off of him. This was not an ally. Something was wrong. “My son is taken with you, and begs of me to modernize. We -”
“Your son accosted me earlier, Your Majesty.” Gasps went around the table, the nobles shifting uncomfortably. Emma heard a dulled bang from far off, but ignored her parents exchange of looks. “And I am not some trophy to be won or pet to be caged. I am afraid that I will be declining your offer, even with the well deserved belief of modernization raised. I may be an outspoken critic of the way we go about our traditions, laws, and rituals, but I am also an outspoken critic of throwing them and decency out the window.”
“Well.” The scaled man slumped his shoulders and looked down, greasy strands of his stringy hair covering his face. “That is bad news then. I'm sorry to hear it.”
Snow moved subtly and slowly in Emma's peripheral as her father tensed. The Goblin King began to laugh, a strange giggling thing that shook his shoulders. Emma took a step back as he looked up, eyes full of impish glee and a true, sharp toothed smile on his face.
“I thought we might be able to do things the easy way, Dearie.” He cocked his head with that too large reptilian grin, and chaos rained down on the room. Powder exploded in different shades, guards leapt up while magic shot past from hands, wands, staves and who knew what else. Emma was transfixed until her mother yanked her through a wall panel and into a dark corridor.
“Mom, what -”
“Emma, hush. Listen, we're under attack and I… They're targeting you, alright? It isn't safe for us here. It's not safe for you.” Pushing open a loose tile, they dropped into a small closet as Snow raised a finger to her lips. Moving the tile back into place, she slid another panel open revealing more stairs that they used in haste. Catching their breath, Snow caressed Emma's cheek. “I need you to be braver than you've ever been, and more cunning than ever before. Your life depends on it; everyone's lives depend on it.”
They moved through the walls, her mother sometimes stopping to peer through a portrait as Goblins flooded the palace, iron weapons in hand. Other times her mother would open a passage for them to run through into another path, full of winding tunnels, spiraling staircases, and peepholes Emma had never known about, circling deep into the castle's depths.
They eventually reached a latched door that dropped into a crawlspace, both dropping down before coming up to stand in a windowless room the size of a larder. A small box rested on a lone shelf, and The Queen held it gingerly. Opening the lid, she pulled out a silver chain with a jagged piece of steel at its end, putting it over Emma's head where it lay coolly against her warm skin. Emma examined it carefully, noting the pointed end looked like either a sword tip or an arrowhead.
“Mom, What is this? Where are we going -”
“There's so much I don't have time to explain, and so much we tried to protect you from, Emma. I regret it now, but we don't have time to get into that either.” Her mother was crying, digging at the tiles on the floor that revealed a deep, dark, stairwell into rock hewn walls. “That's a piece of an ancient blade, the Vorpal blade, used to control the Darkness that tried to destroy everything in all worlds. It wanted, no, wants to cover everything in shadow, in pitch, and your father and I destroyed the blade with our love… and you. You're the purest light this world has ever known. With this shard, the Darkness cannot hurt you. We’ve kept you away from everything to keep it so, and now you are the only one who can fix what we couldn't.”
“I don't understand, what do I need to fix? What do I have to do?” Emma whispered. Her mother looked at her pleadingly as the wall in front of them began to shake.
“The Darkness had taken a vessel, and we… We decided that it deserved a chance, just like the Goblins. Your father and I tried, but it… He… He can't be redeemed, he can't see beyond his revenge. He's too dangerous, too dangerous to ever let out, until now. You have to seek his help, and not fall for his tricks, his offered deals, or his diversions, and then destroy him. You were born to destroy the Darkness and save us.”
The wall cracked, splintering. Her mother kissed her forehead and guided her down the stairs in front of her, pushing Emma into the murk of what lay below.
“I still don't know what -”
“I'm sorry, Emma. You are so strong, and so powerful. We are so proud of you, and believe in you. You are our daughter, our goodness, and love, and everything we've ever dreamed of you being. Go. Go and be safe.”
Letting go of Emma and pushing the tiles back in place, Emma called for her mother but stopped when she heard the outer wall splinter as her mother screamed.
“Snow… I tried -” Her father's voice, ending in a gurgling wet rasp.
“Quiet now, King David. Wouldn't want me to cut out your charming larynx in front of your wife, all because you were trying to play hero.” Gold’s voice, laughter mixing with his son's who was somewhere nearby.
“Don't hurt him. Please. You have our willingness to comply with whatever demands you make,” Snow said calmly. “I just ask you to please, let my husband and daughter go.”
“Your daughter? She's with you, you had her with you -”
“We lost each other when we came across some guards,” Snow raised her voice, convincingly selling the tale of her missing daughter. “She was supposed to hide. I told her to hide, and I would -”
“My concern involves finding your daughter, and the missing piece of the Vorpal blade I have in my possession. Find the princess. I want a true unification of the realms to begin as soon as possible, and everyone will suffer until I get my way,” Gold seethed. Emma held her breath as she heard footsteps move away. Quietly, she moved down the dark stairs into the damp underbelly of the caves to see what awaited her below her home.