princehonorable | (no subject)

Coming home has been something of a dream and a nightmare for him. While Charming is glad to see the familiar mountains and lake outside of the window, the good news of the return is mired in the darkness of Anne's capture. No matter where he goes, this dark luck seems to follow him with such alacrity that he wonders if he isn't cursed to forever be doomed to the dark pall that follows him. It's no time for such thoughts, now.

Matthew has been fed and clothes have been found for their party. Charming, himself, wears the thick cloak that he had once given to Rumpelstiltskin -- another ill thought; if the Queen is here, then what other enemies are at their heels? What allies can they still call upon and will they even remember? Where is King George and what of the Queen's lackeys? Charming puts these thoughts out of mind and tightens the knot on the cloak, dragging the horses from the stables.

The trouble, now, remains. "The Queen has dark magic on her side," he explains as he tugs on leather gloves, forcing his mind to work through cobwebs and ancient dust to recall the fastest path to the Queen's castle. The troll road, he imagines, and the thought gives him pause to smile as he recalls what other thieves and brigands had lurked upon such roads. "And while our hearts may be true, we need a plan."

Charming isn't sure of their odds, given Matthew's young age and Emma's state. "Snow, do you think Red will be able to watch Matthew for us?" he asks, a look on his face that implies, very strongly, that Red ought not to take off her cloak for a single moment. "Who else could we call upon? I hesitate to use up all the favours we've amassed over the years, but if ever there was a need, now is it."

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Between their stares, Emma's starting to feel like a sideshow exhibit, that sense of overwhelming panic with which she awoke sitting tight in her throat once more, though she's fighting to keep it down. Some part of her is still trying to convince herself that none of this is real, but with the boy's mother at risk, she knows she can't act on that assumption just in case this is all happening.

"Stop looking at me me like that," she mutters, trying to find something to busy her hands with, but coming up empty.

What Matthew really wanted to do was run, because what Matthew always wanted to do was run, but without knowing where his mum was he didn't feel safe running where nobody could see him. Shuffling, though, shuffling off was okay, and had the added benefit of leaving a huge mess in his wake. There were always so many interesting new things to see when the island changed!

The horses are ready to be ridden. Charming uses great haste as he ascends the stairs, listening to the satisfying echo of his boots on the stone as he hurries back upwards, catching sight of Matthew's red hair in the process. He tipped his head to the side, as sternly as possible, and caught him up in his arms. "Your mother would never forgive me if I let harm come to you," is all he says, tightening his grip on him as he strides the last few steps. "Emma, do you know how to ride a horse?"

"Seriously?" says Emma in disbelief, fixing David with an incredulous look. She feels like she's coming out of her skin, going out of her mind, and the question prompts a short, hysterical laugh that she swallows back the moment it starts. "Where the h-" She bites her tongue, glancing at Matthew. "Where would I have learned to ride a horse?"

There's certainly a time and a place for their own issues, but for a moment, Charming cannot help the overwhelming urge to give in to the impatient anger nipping at his heels. He calms it easily enough with a breath and regards her with a look that implies that he's none too happy with this situation, either. "I wouldn't know, Emma," he says calmly (perhaps too calmly). "Given that I've missed twenty-eight years, I'm not entirely sure what you do know. Can you manage to ride a horse or will you be riding with your mother?"

"I'll manage," says Emma, coolly, a stubborn edge hardening her features. She's come a long way in a few short months, but accepting help doesn't come easily -- even for something like this, where she's so hopelessly out of her depth.

He keeps his gaze steady on Emma, not willing to break it away just yet when he feels compelled to prove his own mettle, somehow. "Okay," he relents, finally, looking down to Matthew and breathing out slowly. "Kiddo, I have a really big favour to ask of you," he says, smiling as winsomely as he could manage. "You think you can help me out?"

"I can do anything!" says Matthew. Though apparently that doesn't include mounting a successful escape and rescue mission on his own. He makes a muscle with one arm, to prove it, just like his uncles showed him.