Look OUAT has ALOT of problems but one of the greatest things they ever did was during the underworld arc. No I’m not talking about Hades–he was dumb and underdeveloped. Let me explain!
On the search and rescue for Hook, Emma comes across two influential people from Hook’s past. His ex-girlfriend Milah and his highly admired older brother Liam.
At first glance the misogyny sets itself up. We (including Rumple) expect Emma and Milah to hate each other and be at odds. This is not the case. Using the power of kindness and feminism Emma and Milah become allies who work together to save Killian from Hades. (Rip Milah forever she deserved better).
Next Emma meets Liam Jones the first. Hook has been spending a lot of time putting his brother on a pedestal and we as audience members expected that Emma and Liam would be fast friends. Turns out Liam had that pedestal a little too far up his ass (I love him but it’s true). Emma and Liam do not get along. This sets up a visual for Hook’s internal conflict and helps him see the best in himself and the flawed yet still lovable humanity in his brother.
It would have been easy for the writers to use girl on girl hate to further Hook’s conflict but they did not. Instead they went the feminist route and made Milah and Emma gal pals that deserved better. (Screw you rumple!) It would have been easy for the writers to make Liam “Mr. Perfect” like we (and Killian) always expected him to be. Instead he is a well rounded and flawed characters that fits perfectly into the “gray area” that OUAT loves to play in.
OUAT has made a lot of mistakes narrative wise over the years but the Milah x Emma and the Emma x Liam x Killian interactions were very well written. Season 5 is the second best season after season 3 and if it weren’t for Robin’s death and that shit finale it could have been the best season of the whole show.
It’s more straightforward than Emma expects, the journey to the Vaults. Draped in their dark cloaks, they’re more or less invisible to the other residents of the Underworld, and Milah steers them well clear of the other hooded figures patrolling the streets. For the most part, no one seems to care about anything beyond their immediate tasks; Emma is fairly certain that Milah is the only person to look her in the eye since she arrived down here.
Once they clear the town proper, it’s a question of navigating the eerily misty woods, but it really isn’t much worse than any other time she’s stomped through the forest back home. While they walk, Milah regales her with stories about life aboard the Jolly Roger (she’s particularly enthusiastic about an incident involving Killian and a seagull, which makes Emma laugh so hard that they have to stop to let her catch her breath). She finds herself sharing a few memories of her own- Milah wants to know everything about Henry, about Neal, about the beanstalk- and somehow, impossibly, she feels the hard knot in her chest begin to dissolve.
Her parents and Henry had tried their best to get through to her, guiding her gently home after the EMTs had taken Killian’s body away from the lakeside. She’d been vaguely aware of Henry holding her hand for the drive back to the house, of her father gently stroking her hair after she’d collapsed on the couch, of her mother whispering promises to return when they finally gave in to her pleas for solitude. Emma didn’t want their quiet sympathy or their kind hands or their watchful, aching gazes; she’d wanted to let herself sink deep into nothingness, to let the waves of pain break overhead without her participation. Grief wasn’t new to Emma Swan, but this- it was like drowning in static.
Realizing Gold’s deception had eased the haze somewhat, and setting out even made it slightly easier to breathe. She’s always been a woman of action, and the sheer physical effort of getting to the Underworld had set her muscles burning and her mind racing. But it’s now, as she swaps stories with her improbable partner-in-crime, that she begins to feel like she’s coming back to herself.
It isn’t that she expects it to be easy, or that she’d come here with any intention of leaving without him, but it’s comforting to know that no matter what the Underworld tries to throw at her, there’s someone else down here willing to fight for Killian Jones.
“Here we are,” Milah announces, leading the way out of the trees and onto the road. The familiar Storybrooke welcome sign peeks out of a nest of climbing vines, and a crack in the asphalt runs straight through the faded paint of the town line. Tugging off her cloak, she gestures for Emma to do the same, letting the rough fabric pool at her feet. “These won’t help much down there, not if we run into actual Reapers. Ready?”
They step over the line together.
The scenery shifts immediately, arched walls closing over their heads. Torches capped with blue flames flicker every few feet, though the weak light does little to lessen the oppressive darkness that seems the ooze from the ceiling. A scream breaks through the silence; it hangs in the frigid air for a moment, before all sound evaporates again.
“This way,” Milah whispers, pulling out her sword as she starts forward. Emma mirrors her, the weapon a soothing weight in her hand, and tries very hard not to think about the source of the scream.
“How do you know your way around here, anyway?” she asks.
“When Hades brought me in, I realized I wasn’t as invisible as I’d imagined,” Milah says. “Thought it would be good information to have if he decided to lock me up.”
“Makes sense.”
“I thought so. But I don’t know much about the cells, I’ve just learned the way in and out.” She glances over at Emma, frowning. “Perhaps I should have come to scout on my own before bringing you here.”
“Definitely not,” Emma says. “This doesn’t seem like a one-person operation.” Milah shakes her head and Emma reaches out, grabbing her arm. “Hey. We are going to find him, and we are going to get him out of here. Together. Okay?”
“Okay,” Milah says. Emma releases her, and Milah smirks. “Do you ever use that princess voice on him?”
“What?”
“Keep it in mind,” Milah advises.
“Right.” Emma blinks rapidly, shaking her head. “So. Um. Lots of Vaults, two of us, one Killian. Any idea where we should start?”
“I was thinking that perhaps…” Milah trails off, staring over at her, and abruptly shoves her sword back into its scabbard.
“That perhaps?” Emma repeats, keeping a firm grip on her own weapon.
“You have magic,” Milah breathes.
“Um. Yeah, I do,” Emma says. “What does that have to do with-”
“Emma, you have magic!” She begins digging through her pockets, humming under her breath. “Ah! Here we are. Have you ever done mirror magic?”
Emma stares at the object in her hand. “Is that a compact?”
“Is that what it’s called?” Milah tilts her head. “What an odd name. I found it at the diner a few weeks ago, and you never know when a spare bit of glass might be useful.” She pops it open and offers it to Emma, raising her eyebrows expectantly. “So. Mirror magic?”
“I’ve only done it once,” Emma says, looking down at her tiny reflection. “But I think I can do it again.”
Closing her eyes, she lets the faint buzz of magic rise to the surface of her skin, feeling it slowly seep into the mirror. She pulls her memories of Killian to the front of her mind, reaching for him through the distance. I will find you. I will always find you.
“Emma,” Milah whispers, and she opens her eyes. The surface of the glass ripples, the compact emitting a silvery light that warms her palm. As they watch, a figure swirls into focus, the image becoming clearer by the second. “That’s him.”
Killian sits on a tiny island of rock, his figure illuminated by the glow of what looks like green water around him. Slumped over his knees, he is utterly motionless, little more than a dark shadow against the stone. Emma’s heart clenches, a pulse of magic traveling from her hand to the mirror; Killian looks up for a moment, staring around him, before bowing his head again.
“Where is he?” Emma says softly. The mirror glows brighter, but the image remains static. “Show me,” she hisses, sparks flying from her fingertips, and the scene changes to show the tunnel in front of her. She takes a step forward, and the mirror copies her exactly.
“Brilliant,” Milah says, pulling her sword loose again. “I’ll guard, you guide. Stay close.”
The mirror leads them from the passageway to a larger cavern. As they move inside, the image swings to the right, and they follow along, ducking into an identical tunnel that slopes steadily downwards. Left, right, then left again, they cross swinging rope bridges and squeeze through narrow fissures of rock. The temperature drops slowly, the initial chill of the upper levels giving way to a bitter cold that burns Emma’s cheeks.
They’re in the middle of an enormous cavern when something hisses.
“What was that?” Emma whispers, staring out into the shadows, and the air around them explodes with shrieks and growls. Several large figures loom out of the darkness, their hooded cloaks falling back to reveal raw faces set with glowing white eyes.
“Emma, duck!” Milah's voice rings out through the chaos. Emma drops instantly, feeling the swift swing of the blade over her head more than she hears it. The other woman rushes to her side, expertly parrying the next blow, and giving Emma enough time to stash the compact before pulling out her own weapon. “Damned things, always getting in the way.”
“What are they?” Emma pants, straightening up. She shifts until they're standing back to back, swords at the ready, watching the creatures form a loose ring around them in the mist.
“Reapers,” she replies. “People who sold their souls in life, and couldn’t take them back in death.”
“These are all people?”
“Were people,” Milah corrects. “There's not much left to them that's human.”
One lunges at them, teeth bared, and Emma lands a hard kick against its shoulder. It stumbles away, vanishing in a puff of gray smoke.
“Good form,” Milah says appreciatively. The familiar words catch somewhere in Emma’s chest, reverberating against her bones. “They’re a nasty bunch, but they aren’t impossible to defeat. Just have to stay on your toes.” She slashes the air as another Reaper leaps from a boulder, catching it just under the ribs and sending it flying in the opposite direction. “We must be getting close, Hades likes to keep them right by the cells.”
Emma blocks a Reaper with her sword, matching it blow for blow until she knocks the blade from its hands. “I will never understand the employment system down here.”
“Let’s hope not.” Milah dispatches an opponent with a few quick hits. Between the two of them, they make short work of the rest of the Reapers, the last one vanishing with an ear-splitting howl. Brushing her hair out of her eyes, Milah waves away the cloud of smoke. “How far away is Killian?”
Emma pulls out the compact with her free hand, glancing down at the tiny mirror. The image flies across the rest of the cavern, swiveling into a tunnel that splits into three paths. It hangs in the air for a moment, then takes the center choice, following a curve in the tunnel. Moving even faster, it zooms through a bright green light to reveal Killian, his head resting on his knees.
“Not far at all,” she says, nearly giddy as she meets Milah’s gaze. “One more tunnel and we’re there.”
Milah grins. “Well, let’s not keep him waiting, then."
A flurry of growls erupts behind them, and Emma shoves the compact back into her pocket as more Reapers appear, streaming towards them in a wide column. There are easily triple the number they originally faced, and Emma bites back a groan as they continue to fill the cave.
“I guess that was only round one,” she mutters.
Milah glares over at the approaching herd. “Hades must’ve figured out we’re down here. We need to get Killian out before he moves him somewhere else.”
“You didn’t bring any secret grenades or flamethrowers, did you?” Emma rolls her shoulders, hopping on the tips of her toes to warm up. “It’s going to take a while to clear them out.”
“Which is exactly why you should go,” Milah says. “Get a head start.”
Emma stares at her. “Wait, what?”
“Emma, go,” Milah snaps, giving Emma a shove as she turns to face the pack. “They can't hurt me, but I can slow them down.”
“I'm not leaving you,” Emma says fiercely, adjusting her grip on her sword, but Milah shakes her head.
“Don't be ridiculous, you have to get to Killian and you can't do that with Reapers trailing you like rabid puppies.” Milah pushes her again, nodding down the path. “Go on, rescue him, Swan. Isn't that what you do, in all those stories you told me? Rescue each other?”
“You deserve to see him again,” Emma insists, but she can't quite keep from glancing over at the entry to the tunnels across the cavern. Her skin buzzes with repressed energy, the hope bubbling in her chest threatening to overwhelm her because he's there, he's right there, all she has to do is keep going and she'll see his face again-
“Wait for me, then,” Milah says, pulling a dagger from inside of her jacket. “I'll meet you after I get rid of this lot. Now get out of here.”
“Milah-”
“Go!”
Cursing under her breath, Emma swivels on her heel and begins to run, following the path she’d seen in the mirror. Milah takes off in the opposite direction, diving directly into the shadowy mass. The howls and cries of the Reapers echo menacingly in the dark tunnel, but it’s the sudden crack of Milah’s laughter that keeps her from turning back.
She comes to the forked path and pelts down the center, nearly losing her balances as she slides across the slick stones. Rounding a corner, she stumbles into the largest cavern she’s seen yet. She slows to a walk, boots sinking into dark sand as she reaches edge of a pool of glowing water. The greenish liquid casts long shadows across the walls, flowing ceaselessly in a perfect circle, and she realizes with a bolt of dread that the rock island at the center of the pool is empty.
“Killian?” she calls, squinting across the water. The sounds of the fight raging behind her dissolve into silence, broken only by the occasional soft splash. “Killian?”
