Chapter Text
“Our story begins not long ago; there was a young man, head to a band of lost boys, thieves of the kingdom. His name was Baelfire. Baelfire was cunning, smart and mysterious. They wanted to explore the unfamiliar land.
One day Baelfire met a young girl on her first adventure outside her parents’ home. She was young and curious and ready to make her own destiny.
After a series of strange events, the girl began traveling with the group as she’d become smitten with Baelfire. Through many adventures, they found old ruins, hoping to make off with treasure. Instead, however, light enveloped the girl, revealing that her lineage wasn’t just sheep farming as she once thought, but that it traced back to a line of legendary heroes known to their time as The Saviors. She was the lost princess prophesied to save her people from a terrible fate.
When her identity was revealed, a wicked witch appeared and carried the princess away from Baelfire as she knew that the Savior was destined to destroy her. Instead she sought to take her power for herself. She used her power to destroy the kingdom many years before.
Baelfire chased after the princess in order to rescue her. He crossed mountains and ocean, slayed terrible beasts in order to be reunited with his True Love. When he finally found her, the princess was not alone as she had been with child when she was taken and bore his son while in captivity.
They used their power to become true heros and slay the Wicked Witch once and for all, and the princess and her infant son were rescued at last. However, during the battle to rescue her, Baelfire sacrificed his life to ensure the safety of his family.
The princess decided to honor his memory and find a new land to restore her kingdom to what it once was, surrounded by her new family of Lost Boys…”
There is a loud sigh coming from a mop of dark hair.
“Come on, Henry? What did you think?” insists a voice. It’s the same voice as the one who told the story. He is tall and skinny, dressed in traditional sailor’s wear with hair a slight shade darker and freckles all over his face.
She always enjoys listening to her friend’s storytelling from a distance.
“Boring,” came the reply, much to her amusement.
“What? How?” the story teller says again in surprise.
“Johnnn,” Henry groans. “You tell the same story every time,” he says in exasperation. “You don’t even add to it.” He looked up at her from the lower deck as she stood on an upper section watching him. “At least Mom sometimes tells me of Dad’s adventures,” he insists, standing up from where he’d been sitting and stretching. “You were there , shouldn’t you know more than Mom about this?” he asks skeptically. “Mom was captured when all the exciting stuff happened.”
She watched as the man looked up at her, exchanging a careful look with her. She keeps her gaze firm.
It was a very direct, don't you dare.
“I’m forgetful,” John retorts to her son.
“You’d forget years of your life?” Henry asks, yet again. “I still don’t buy that.”
She could tell that Henry was starting to get around John’s story, as he always was. Ever since Henry was a toddler, he’d always been so curious. Now that he was growing up, he’d become desperate for more details, more information, more of anything interesting, especially details of his father.
Her kid was growing up so fast…
“Henry,” she calls out, making him notice her for the first time. She stands overlooking the lower decks. “Aren’t you supposed to be on lookout?” she asks. “You know the Captain wouldn’t like it if her first mate is slacking on the job,” she teases.
Henry’s eyes light up, all thoughts of the story gone from his head.
Well, not that fast. She muses silently.
“Oh yeah!” he says excitedly, “We’re looking for the Demon Ship,” he reminds her, grabbing John’s hand and darting off towards the edge of the ship. She could hear him rambling about it from the other side of the vessel.
“You know Emma,” says a new voice. Emma had had a suspicion she had been listening too. “You’re going to have to tell him the truth eventually.” Emma didn’t look back at her.
“What I tell my son about his father is my business,” Emma reminds the Captain. “You promised me you’d honor that,” she reminds her. The last thing she needs is someone telling her how to raise her kid.
“I just think that Henry’s a smart kid and will figure it out. Shouldn’t it come from you and not when Michael and John have conflicting stories?” she presses. Emma turns towards the brunette sea captain, looking her straight in the eyes. Captain Wendy Darling did not waver.
“We’ve been over this a dozen times Captain,” Emma says as politely as possible. “I will protect Baelfire’s legacy, Henry’s hero until I see fit to tell him otherwise,” He’s her kid, and the last thing she needed was for him to dwell on the past; lord knew she dwelled on it enough.
“I just think—“ But Emma cuts her off.
“Bae’s already dead; what good will the truth do any of us?” she snaps. Wendy raises a brow.
“Maybe it would let your son see you less as a damsel and more as a hero, Savior,” Wendy replies with an almost whimsical sound at the word ‘Savior’ and it fills Emma with dread. “Maybe it would let you see yourself that way too,” she adds.
“I am no Savior,” she says sternly, barely resisting another snap. “If I was, Baelfire wouldn’t be dead. He saved us from the Wicked Witch and that’s all I want to hear on the subject,” she says firmly.
Wendy shrugs slightly, conversation over for now. It’s a common argument for them. It feels like they have it every day. She’s supposed to be some Savior, but she doesn’t feel like one, she never has, even after years free from the Wicked Witch. All Emma’s been was the daughter of a sheep farmer, and after the death of her parents before she met Bae, she was lost. She never meant to save the world; she never meant to be the one destined to find some new land for her people.
Emma doesn’t want to be the Savior. She wishes she could just hand off the job to someone way more qualified.
Emma watches Wendy look up at the sky, face stern. Emma never really understood why Wendy has been helping her for all these years; at first, it was some obligation to Bae, but yet she’s been talking about telling Henry the truth about his father since Henry was old enough to hear these stories. She doesn’t understand it; Emma would think she’d want to protect his image.
Emma doesn’t think she’ll ever truly understand her. “Besides,” Emma continues, “Shouldn’t you be trying to find a way to avoid this Demon ship Henry keeps talking about?” she asks, still eyeing the brunette.
Henry had taken up talking to other sailors whenever they reached port. At first, he wanted to try to trade some of his treasures for different things, and then it turned into him hunting out stories from dock workers or deckhands. He was always very excitable when it came to adventures so Emma was barely surprised when Michael came to her that first time he caught Henry wandering off to engage in a conversation with a stranger.
Wendy takes the change of subject gladly. Wendy rolled her eyes. “There is no Demon Ship,” she insists. “It’s just some pirate gang or something, an urban legend to scare people.” She crosses her arms and she looks insulted by the accusation.
“Are you sure?” asks a voice from the hull; Emma recognized Michael, slightly pudgier than his younger brother holding the wheel of the ship, looking at Wendy in uncertainty. “What about all those ships that have gone missing?” he asks nervously. “No survivors or ship remains were ever found.”
Wendy sighs in annoyance, but Emma can see it’s barely contained outrage. “We’re going to be fine,” she says again. “These seas are protected,” she reminds them.
Emma raised a brow in disbelief. “Protected?” she asks. Emma didn’t see any royal colors on this piece of the map; she thought this area was uncharted.
“By the Ocean Queen,” Wendy retorts as if it’s obvious.
“Ocean Queen?” Henry asks, being drawn in by the talk of adventure and stories. His eyes lit up. “Who’s she?” he asks.
“No one’s told you?” Wendy says in disbelief. “She’s a benevolent ancient ruler who protects all sailors in this area of the ocean,” Wendy replies. “Legend has it that she rules with three helpers, but not much more is known.” It makes Henry’s smile widen at the thought. Emma was sure her son’s head was filling up with ideas of meeting this ruler one day.
But at ten years old, Emma was not having it.
“You believe in an Ocean Queen and not a Demon ship?” Emma asks. It seemed a little one sided to her.
Wendy snickers. “Of course I don’t!” she exclaims. “I only believe in the wind and the stars; everything else is just fairy tales,” she says with a laugh. “That’s just an old story my mother used to tell me. She grew up around here,” she informs them. “A little place called Molida Island.”
Henry groans. “Aunt Wendyyyy,” he says with a sigh. “That’s mean.”
Wendy sticks her tongue out at him, looking like the kid Emma had met all those years ago. “That’s what you get for slacking off on your duties, mate.”
Henry sticks his tongue out right back at her. It wasn’t often that Wendy acted her age, only barely being 23 herself; but when she did, it was refreshing to Emma. It reminded her of the fierce Captain who could see them all through any storm in the sea and yet still had a soft side.
Emma’s relaxation was short lived, as before anyone realized it, a dark and thick fog rolled over them.
“What the—“ Wendy cries in surprise. “Everyone get to your stations,” she snaps at her two younger brothers. “We’re taking a detour from this place,” she orders. Emma looks around unsure. She has a dark feeling in her gut. She feels tingling in her soul, but she blocks it out. She doesn’t need more to deal with right now. She just needs her kid.
“Henry?” she calls out. She wanted her son with her while the crew worked on getting them out of here.
“Wind’s dead, Wendy,” John calls out.
“How can the wind be dead when a fog literally just blew in?” she snaps back.
“Mom, look!” she hears Henry say. He was sitting on the edge of the ship pointing out. “A ship.”
Emma looks over and realizes that Henry was right: there was a ship heading towards them and fast. “Henry, get away from there,” she orders, rushing down the steps in her dress. She barely reaches him as the ship descends upon them.
Emma sees its superior size loom overhead and dark wooden hulls cast a shadow upon their smaller vessel. Its ornaments are all a faded ivory color looking almost like bone. It looked like death itself had come for them.
“It’s the Demon Ship!” Emma hears Michael cry out. “These waters really are cursed!”
“It’s just a ship,” Wendy snaps at them. “Emma, Henry get below decks; let us handle things,” she orders. Emma nods in agreement, reaching over to gather Henry’s hand in hers and hide below deck. This was dangerous and Emma needs to keep Henry safe.
She just wants to take her son where it’s safe.
Henry pulls away from her. “It is the Demon Ship!” he insists. “And there could be a lot of treasure on board.” He reaches up for a stray piece of rigging, much to Emma’s horror.
“Henry!” she shouts, trying to grab him as her son swings over to the ship. “Henry get back over here!” she calls out once he lands safely. She is going to ground him for life for this.
“It’s fine, Mom; it’s—“ Suddenly as if possessed, the fog around them gets much denser and it is hard to see Henry at all. Then she hears a piercing sound that shakes her to her very core.
“Mom!” Henry screams. He screams for her.
“Henry!” Forgetting every ounce of her fear, Emma grabs the rigging, same as Henry had, and attempts to swing over to the other side. She needed to get to her son now .
However, the Demon ship started to move away from them so Emma’s leap of faith lands her clutching to the side of the ship.
“Emma!” She hears a chorus of voices call out in dismay. But she doesn’t care; she does her best to scramble upwards, trying to find something to catch the edge of her feet, anything to just hold on.
She hears a snickering laughter, sees a flash of dark hair and then someone uncurls her fingers from around the edge.
“Henry!” she shouts helplessly as she splashes into the water. Both the sky and the water were dark and grey and she couldn’t seem to make out either the Demon ship or her own ship in her confusion.
“Henry!” she cries one last time before the water swallowed her whole.