It's late in the afternoon when Killian decides to take a break from his calculations and let his mind wander to other things. Finally, with the help of the extensive library put at his disposal by Queen Elsa, and thanks to the royal astronomer's inestimable contributions, they have the area for the solar eclipse determined. They finally know it will happen just outside the borders of Misthaven, on the northern side. He now has the band of totality narrowed to several miles, and he's marked it entirely on the map. With the Jolly Roger, they could easily make the trip in under three days, if he were to really put his beloved ship through her paces.

And he's been making progress time-wise, too. He knows that the eclipse will happen sometime in the next 45 days. All that's left now is to narrow it down to the exact day. And he's getting closer, he can feel it. They don't have a lot of time left, that's true, but that doesn't worry him much at the moment. After all, since coming to Arendelle 5 months ago, he's made incredible progress, more than he'd hoped they would when he'd set course towards Emma's friend.

He takes a moment to reminisce about their arrival in Arendelle. At Emma's behest, he'd maneuvered the ship so that they had docked soon after sunset. He'd had them fly at half-mast when entering the village and his crew donning their best clothes. Nothing in their appearance was to draw unwanted attention to them. Not until Emma had had the chance to talk to her friend.

Emma was to ask an audience with the Queen, but he'd asked Jamison to accompany her everywhere and protect her with his life, if needed. And if Peter felt she was not safe leaving the ship, he was to take a contingent of men with him, if he could not convince Emma to stay on board. And he'd had a strong feeling she would not have stayed on the Jolly anyway, no matter how dangerous Jamison might have deemed the situation to be. She had that much faith in her friend.

Fortunately, his precautions had been for naught. As soon as they had docked and been boarded by the Queen's men, Emma had sent her friend a message. He hadn't asked what she'd written, but whatever it had been, it had brought the Queen on board their ship in less than an hour.

Jamison had later told him the reunion had been warm and heartfelt, the two friends sharing a long embrace. They had retired to the captain's quarters after the young queen had given orders that they receive all the help they needed. After more than an hour, during which Killian imagined Emma had brought her friend up to date with their predicament, the two royals had come up on deck again.

After that, he and Emma had more or less spent their days and nights in the castle, as hosts of the Queen. He'd felt awkward at first, especially waking up in a strange bed, much softer than anything he'd ever experienced, but Emma's message had soothed some of his worries. Elsa had insisted they stay in the castle, close to all the resources they needed for their quest, and it didn't seem relevant to her that Killian had been - was - a pirate. And the same courtesy had extended to his crew as well.

He'd been shocked to meet Elsa - the young queen was definitely not what he'd imagined when Emma had told him stories of her friend. She was a quiet young woman, quite shy, but with an inner strength that exuded through all her pores. She'd accepted them into her home and into her kingdom no questions asked, and had put at their disposal anything he had asked of her. She'd even asked Maartins, the court's former astronomer, to come out of retirement and lend them some help.

His crew were welcomed in town and the folks were kind to them. Of course, he'd given the pirates very strict instructions to be on their best behaviour, under threat of very explicit consequences, which no one would dare disobey. He suspected he may have done without it, though; his crew had demonstrated time and time again in the last couple of years that they were as eager as he was to see the curse lifted.

Coming back to the present, Killian lets himself acknowledge the sense of obligation he now feels towards Elsa. It's strange for him to feel gratitude towards a royal, but he does. Notably so. At times he actually wonders how come he hasn't suffered from apoplexy yet, with all these positive feelings he now feels for royalty.

But Emma and Elsa are the exception. Anna, too. Elsa's younger sister is often a pain in his ass with her endless questions and chattering, but she has a gentle heart and a warm personality. The two sisters are genuinely good people, and have proven quite passionate about helping them find a way to break the curse. So, five months after coming to Arendelle, Killian is amazed, and yet not, to know he has found help among royalty, that he's become friends of sorts with them.

And then there's Emma. In the short time they've been in Arendelle, she's become happier. Being close to her friends and seeing actual progress in their endeavour has made her sound lighter in her letters to him. She'd been optimistic most of the time they'd spent together, but now that she has company and more than a ship to roam on, she seems more carefree. And her attitude inexorably extends to him. Waking up to her bright messages every day give him bursts of energy and determinations that carry him into the late afternoon. So it's no wonder he attributes their success to her demeanor. What's more, he now believes her constant optimism has made the universe take her desires into account and mold them into action.

Rumplestilskin isn't one to concern himself with the fate of his victims. Especially not the ones he casts the most dire of curses on. And not when the only way to brake said curses is through True Love's Kiss. As much as people would want to believe True Love is easy to find, and that each of them has it, he knows the truth. True Love is the rarest thing of all. And only the most fortuitous of beings have the good fortune to encounter it in their lifetimes.

He should know. Abandoned by both his parents while still a child, then by the wife he'd thought had cared for him, he's learnt that love is fickle and short-lived. The years he's spent as the Dark One have only cemented this belief. He could barely keep track of the number of times lovers had turned on one another when faced with his dark magic. How easily they give up their mates when threatened with harm, he snickers.

In all his years, he's only encountered one couple that could boast of sharing True Love: Queen Snow of Misthaven and her consort, Prince David. But as far as he's concerned, they haven't been truly tested yet. Once the proper assessment would be devised for them, they would prove to be just as unreliable as all the rest.

As for the daughter, she would have served him well. A being born of True Love was supposed to carry great magic within her. Magic that he could have harnessed: a baby born out her union with Baelfire would have been the best apprentice he could ever have hoped for. After all, his own son had too much of a soft heart to have what it took to wield the darkest magic in all the realms.

But all that is moot now. The Princess is cursed to be an animal during the day and she'll never see the light of the sun. He snickers again. Such a fitting punishment for a princess who is rumored to have loved the nature and the warmth of the sun. He hopes she is truly miserable by now. The absence of the things one loves most would make anyone depressed, so he imagines she's no different.

Now that is an intriguing thought. Maybe the years spent under the shadows of the moon have mellowed her adversity towards Baelfire and she is now open to negotiations. After all, while he cannot lift the curse he cast on her, he can recreate the sun and the impression of day with magic. By now she's surely so desperate for the sun's rays, she'll agree to anything to feel its warmth.

He chuckles at the trail his thoughts take. Maybe he will have his grandson after all. Ultimately, the princess is human half the day and that is enough for Baelfire to beget a child on her. Pleased with himself, Rumplestilskin erupts into manic laughter. He really is devious at times, he thinks with a trace of pride.

Now that he's thought of a new use for the princess of Misthaven, he decides to check up on her. He'll have to retrieve her soon; but that shouldn't be too difficult. He opens his cabinet and pulls out the crystall ball he's enchanted for this very thing. Summoning the powers of darkness, he casts the spell required to show him the princess' whereabouts without even thinking about it consciously.

The crystal ball turns opaque, swirls of grey smoke soon twirling inside, rushing to do their master's bidding. A few seconds later, the smoke starts to dissipate and Rumplestilskin starts to make out shapes. He stumbles back in surprise when the images coalesce into something he had not expected, revealing a place he mostly kept away from. The princess is in Arendelle, with the young Queen Elsa.

He feels annoyance creeping up on him. If she thinks the Queen's magic can help her, she'll have to think again. No one can lift that curse from her, not even him, he muses in satisfaction. Glowering at the scene in front of him, Rumplestilskin notices the princess bending down towards something. Following the movement with his eyes, he sees a wolf laying low besides the princess' chair, head on her feet and he curses. Annoyance turns into anger at the sight and its meaning, and Rumplestilskin overturns his desk. "No!", he yells in displeasure.

He knows they can't break the curse without True Love's Kiss, which he'd made impossible for them, but how did they find each other? They weren't supposed to do that! Rage courses through him and he decides to put an end to this. He'll send three of his minions to kill the wolf and be done with it! He'd love to do it himself, but the annoying trolls that protect the northern realm would feel his presence the minute he stepped on their soil and they'd find a wait to thwart his plans.

No, the best way to do this is to send some of his best men. They are seasoned warriors that had faced countless armies and knights, so a mere wolf should pose no problem to them. And capturing a hawk and delivering her to his castle should equally be a piece of cake.

Still seething, Rumplestilskin puts the crystal ball away in the cabinet, cleans his desk with a wave of his hand, then summons his chieftain. The sooner his men can leave, the better. He's never been one for patience anyway.

Unlike most nights, and never since they had decided to share a room, this time Emma wakes in her chamber in Elsa's palace, all alone. She feels a twinge of worry, but that's also become a normal occurrence for her whenever they are apart. Whenever it happens, Emma tries to pinpoint whether it's because she is truly worried that something might have happened to Killian, or if it's just because she's grown so accustomed to having the wolf by her side that his absence unsettles her so.

Trying to dampen the feeling of dread she suddenly feels, Emma dresses as fast as she can, intent on finding the wolf's whereabouts. She may be plagued by an irrational fear, although if she is honest with herself what she's experiencing right now is sharper than the usual feelings of separation, but she's going to put her mind at ease and find Killian. If it turns out to be nonsense, she'll be happy to laugh at herself later.

A few questions here and there, and Emma discovers that Killian had gone to the Jolly Roger an hour before sunset. He had left word he'd be back soon, but none of the guards had seen him return. Seeing the princess' distress, the guards on duty tell her he might have come back during the changing of the guard. They offer to inquire for her, but Emma tells them it's alright. She'll go to the Jolly Roger first.

The two guards exchange a look and one of them offers to accompany her on her trip across the bay. It's night and, as winter approaches, some portions of the sea have frozen over, making for a rather perilous journey into town. But it's a night of festivities in Arendelle, with guards spread out everywhere, so Emma declines. They are needed at the palace and there seems to be enough light throughout the land to make the journey a safe one. Besides, with so many guards spread out across the terrain, Emma thinks she's bound to meet one every 5 minutes from here to port.

She's two thirds into her journey when she hears it. It's an indistinct sound at first, like cracks breaking under pressure. She's used to the sounds of the night by now, so it doesn't worry her at first. One of the first things she'd gotten used to after the curse was the way sounds seemed more ominous at night compared to daylight. As if the absence of light amplified everything, but most importantly the feelings of fear and insecurity. Once faced though, most often than not, ominous noises turned out to have a rather innocent source, in fact.

Keeping that in mind, Emma stops and focuses on the sounds. They seem to come from the thicket to her left, indiscernible at first, then coalescing into three voices after a while. It's apparent to Emma the men are moving towards her, but when she distinguishes the first words of their conversation, slabs of ice seem to pour down her spine. They're talking about her, she's sure. Words like "grab the princess", "she's close" and "Dark One" dispel any possibility that they might refer to someone else.

They're coming from behind her and to the left, so she can only go forward. She starts running, hoping that she'll be far enough by the time they make it out of the thicket and they won't see her go across the bend. She's not that lucky though. She's almost across the corner when the strange men clear the shrubbery and one of them notices her. She starts running faster, while angry cries follow her across the field.

The silhouette of the Jolly Roger looms in the distance once she takes the bend, but it's still a good distance away. Her lungs start to burn from lack of oxygen, but she pushes on. Her left side starts throbbing, and she still pushes on. She'll rest once she's safe and Killian's men have captured the three cronies after her. Eyes on the ship, Emma misses the upturned stone in her path. Her foot catches on it and she goes down hard.

Sharp pain erupts in her right elbow and chin as she falls on the hard ice. She'd managed to cushion her fall by thrusting her hands forward, but apparently she hadn't been quick enough. Emma tries to get up, and more pain shoots in her ankle.

The thugs are drawing nearer and nearer and she starts to panic. If she's injured, she won't make it to the ship. They'll get her and Killian will never find out what happened to her. Not to mention he'll never be able to break the curse by himself. She won't let that happened to him!

She gets up and makes her way further. Every step is agonizing, but she won't stop. A sprained ankle won't be what gets her captured. Not tonight! She pushes forward, and when she hears the goons taking the bend after her, Emma yells for help and prays that someone on the Jolly Roger sees her or hears her even above the chaos of the festivities.

Due to his young age, Henry finds himself consigned to the ship on this night of celebrations, on guard duty. Not that he minds. His mates love such feasts, but Henry has never seen their appeal. Women, drinking and gaming seem such trifling occupations when one could draw or read. And by general consensus, the other men do not make fun of him, so it's a win-win situation, Henry reckons. But sometimes he wonders if that's due to his age or if his captain has had a word with the others about it.

Speaking of the captain, Henry raises his eyes from his book to look at the wolf again. The animal has been pacing restlessly across the deck for the past hour, and he's starting to get nervous himself. Glancing up, he catches master Jamison's worried expression. Their gazes follow the silhouette of the beast to the side of the ship. The wolf has his muzzle up in the air and his ears twitch on the wind as if trying to listen to something.

In the next instant, he lets out a feral growl, then dashes across the plank. Henry is up on his feet in an instant, book falling by his side. He's the first to make it to the plank, eyes scanning the dark expanse for a glimpse of the wolf. He notices it to the left of their ship, running across the frozen sea. His eyes trail the path ahead and he notices a slender figure making its way towards the ship, hobbling in obvious pain, and three larger ones behind it.

Horror grips his heart when he recognizes the figure. "Master Jamison," he yells at the first mate, "the princess is under attack!" He doesn't wait to see if his superior officer hears him, but makes his way across the plank, hot on the wolf's heels. He needs to help them anyway he can. He's barely makes it down the plank, when heavy footsteps come after him.

"Henry, grab this cutlass!" yells Jamison after him. The boy stops long enough to catch the weapon thrown at him by the older man, then the two pirates start running in earnest, ready to defend their masters.

Emma makes it a few more feet before the thugs are on her, one of them grabbing her hair and pulling her backwards. The movement is so sudden, she loses her balance and falls on her back. The man pulls her up by her hair, then grabs her right arm and twists it behind her. Pain is radiating throughout her entire body by now.

A loud growl catches their attention and all of them direct their eyes towards the source. A large shadow moves across the ice from the direction of the ship and Emma knows at once it's the wolf. He's heard her and he's coming to her rescue!

But the tiny hope is extinguished when one of the thugs pulls out a bow from behind his back. "The wolf our master told us about. Shoot him dead!", barks the man holding her captive.

"No!", Emma screams and squirms against the thug, desperate to break free and save her beloved. The man pulls her closer and tightens his hold on her. "Easy, princess, we have our orders!" he grumbles low in her ear.

Emma watches in horror as the other man follows the wolf's movements across the ice, letting go of the arrow when the beast is close enough. As the projectile flies towards its target, Emma cries in anguish. At the last minute, the wolf jumps high in the air, and the arrow misses him by a good distance.

"Damnation!", cries the man with the bow as he extends his arm to grab another arrow. Seeing that the men are all focused on the wolf, Emma takes this opportunity and kicks the archer hard in the ass with her foot. He drops the bow as he tries to recover his balance, while the man holding her captive hits her across the head.

"Bitch! The master said we had to bring you back alive, but he never said you were to be unharmed," he spits at her in anger. She's in pain and scared, but she raises eyes full of loathing on him. She won't go quietly!

The third man pulls out his sword and the scrape of the metal against the sheath draws her attention back to the situation at hand, eyes wide. The archer is still trying to get his bearings and pull out another arrow, but the wolf is almost upon them by now.

"Killian, be careful!" she yells, hoping the wolf will understand her warning. The thug is almost ready to let the second arrow loose, the third man making his way to his companion, sword at the ready, when the wolf jumps high in the air again and bites at the man's hand. The bandit screams in pain and drops his bow, swinging his arm up and down in hopes of prying the wolf's teeth loose. It holds on tight, though, the two figures clenched in a tight battle.

The third man runs to his crony's aid, but before he can make a pass at the wolf with his sword, the ice under them gives and they fall in the sea. Emma screams and starts towards the wolf. The thug holding her pulls her back hard, laughing hard. "This is perfect", he snickers. "The wolf dies as ordered and you are mine to take back to the master."

Horrified, Emma thrashes in his grip. The man sneers at her and jars her into submission. "Hold still, w..." He doesn't get to finish because a loud crack interrupts him. When the man slumps in front of her, Emma realises he's dead, shot in the head. She raises her eyes in the direction of the shot and sees Jamison, smoking pistol in his hand. Henry is there too, running towards them.

"Killian", Emma screams for her lover and scans the desolate terrain. The hole they've fallen through is there, but the waters are calm, a sign the struggle below has ended in the meantime. His name is torn from her lips again, panic rising through her.

Without thinking, she hobbles towards the crack in the ice and jumps in before Jamison can even open his mouth to stop her. The water is so cold and it feels like thousands of knives are piercing her skin, but she's too desperate to pay any attention to these sensations. She opens her eyes and tries to scan the water. It's too dark underneath and she can't really see anything, but anguish pushes her forward.

She starts swimming down, hands and feet moving in arcs as wide as possible, hoping to touch the wolf somehow. Her lungs soon starts screaming for air, but she's loathe to go up. Just as she feels she may have no other option, her foot catches on something. She turns around and sees two shapes tangled together.

Her muscles burning and almost out of air, she swims towards them and pries the wolf loose from the dead man's hold. Grabbing the animal beneath the front paws, she shoots upwards. Horror starts to replace her relief at finding Killian, when they make it to the icy border and she can't find the crack. Her strength is dwindling, as the last reserves of oxygen in her lungs run out.

She's about to lose consciousness when her eyes land on a flicker of light and the contour of a hand. Jamison's, she realizes in gratitude. With renewed determination, she swims in that direction; the hole is there and she shoots out, gasping for air as soon as she's outside.

She feels the pirate's strong arms grabbing the wolf and she lets go of her precious cargo. She's still gulping the air, when smaller hands wrap around her upper arms and pull her out. Feeling a little better, she helps Henry drag her out on the frozen landscape.

She coughs a bit, then sees Jamison's form huddled above the wolf. The animal is eerily quiet and her heart clenches. He can't be dead, she thinks. Not like this! She crawls to him and takes the wolf's head in her hands. "Please" she cries, "come back to me."

As if he hears her, the wolf whines in a small voice, water gushing out of his mouth. The breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding rushes out of her and Emma kisses the wolf's head, eyes closed in relief. When she feels him shudder, the reality of their situation comes crashing down. They're not out of this yet. They're soaked wet and they're out in the cold. The Jolly Roger is closer, but they have no heat source. And making a fire on board is complicated and dangerous.

Making up her mind, Emma raises her head. "Help me get him to the castle", she pleads with Jamison. It's for naught though, because the pirate hoists the wolf in his arms before she even finishes her words. Henry lends her support and together they make their way to the castle as soon as they can.