Birds of a Feather (Emma/Hook)
The woods seemed colder, somehow a touch darker than Emma remembered from when she was younger. Maybe it was her, maybe it was that sense of childhood innocence that had swiftly faded as she matured, but she hated that it had even begun to taint a place she once held as safe.
She tugged her cloak higher on her shoulders to keep it from dragging across the dirty moss, but she doubted it would make much difference. If even one stitch of a dress was torn, it would soon be replaced. The royalty she had been born into solidified that fact, but it was also that fact that burned her from the inside. Her future was destined to be nothing but a trophy, a bride to whatever suitor seemed most worthy so that she could take her place as queen one day. Just the thought of it made her shiver.
But for once, something held constant. She passed by an old oak, and looked up a little. A bird, one with feathers as dark as hell itself, sat perched on a rickety branch. She knew it well, and sometimes wondered if it’s eyes knew her, too.
“It’s lovely to see you again,” she whispered to it.