Title: A Bounty for a Witch's Heart
Author: In-Betweens
Plot: Rumpelstiltskin's curse is too much for the Evil Queen to bare so to the delight of the realm she takes her leave of the dark forest and is rumored to never return. Until one day eighteen years later she does. Fearing for the lives of their people Queen Snow White and King James put a bounty out on the head and heart of the evil wicked witch.
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters seen on the show nor the worlds they came from. Just borrowing them for a story which writing I will stake claim on.
Author's Note: So after weeks of friends nagging me to watch Once Upon a Time, I have and now I can't seem to get rid of the plot bunnies running rampant in my head fast enough. Let me know how I did.

Prologue

-Present-

Panting, heavily, it feels as if her very lung is going to come right out from her chest. It burns, she has not run like this…ever. Not that she had much reason to do so before. She's never had to run for her life like this, through her own dark forest. The shame of it all! Being forced to flee and cower behind the long thick dying bark of trees hundreds of years older than her.

This, was certainly not what she had expected to return to. No, this exertion is far too much for someone of her age, even if her body is suddenly younger. She doesn't quite understand how it is she has become younger, she suspects it has something to do with breaking through the time continuum but she hasn't had enough time to dwell on it. She only just returned.

That is another question that has been left unanswered thus far. Though, honestly, she hasn't had the courage to ask how the bounty hunters have known she was back in this fairytale realm. She just arrived at the break of dawn this very morning. It's almost as if they have been waiting for her. Hell, they were waiting for her. Right outside of the White Castle, as if knowing she would be there.

Her poor carriage driver had been hit by an arrow meant for her heart. Damn the bastards, she had actually liked the lad. He was funny and kind and hadn't deserved to die in her sted but she was counting her blessings. His death had given her enough time to cut loose her horses and ride away.

She lost them. At least she'd lost most of them when she'd entered the dark forest. How many of these bastards had the King and Queen sent after her? A dozen? Two? It sure felt like there was an entire army chasing after her upon horse back. She'd lowered herself as tightly against the steed she'd mounted and banked left and right, the buzz and rip of arrows flying on either side of her, some too close for comfort had been more than she could handle. She retreated to the only place she knew she could survive, the dark forest, her realm more than anyone else's.

She'd called on the woods and trees that she'd grown up in to help protect her. They bent and dropped and even rose up from the ground to do so. Thorn weeds the types only Prince Dillon could understand, as he'd battled through them to reach Princess Aurora, grew behind her trapping her bounty hunters or blocking them from giving her a proper chase.

Or…so she'd thought.

She had been releasing a sigh of relief, finally chancing a look behind her to make sure there were no pursuers still on her tail. Seeing none, she had slowed her newly acquired horses' gait and turned forward, ready to slip away towards her hidden castle.

That is, until something sharp and deadly had embedded itself into her animal saviors heart. The beast fell instantly, not even offering up a whine in its swift death. Whoever released the arrow from their bow had skill. Enough skill to worry her as she'd screamed and scrambled out from under the dead animal. She spent time, maybe a bit too much time, trying to reanimate the stallions body, but it was no use.

Falling away from the beast's chest she jumped as another arrow slipped right passed her ear. So close in fact that there was a drop of blood on her shoulder that was not from her mount. Clapping her hand over her ear she fell back onto the ground fully, eyes widening as another sharpened stick flew just above her. It would have killed her had she remained sitting up.

With no time to really assess if she had any injuries she ran, picking up her long cloak and dress into tightened fists. Blast it all, she had to go and wear one of her nicest and longest dresses for this occasion. An occasion that didn't even take place, and here she was thinking that Snow White and Prince James would be happy to see her again.

Ha! How in all the worlds did they even know she was home? The thought nagged at her. Even as she ran for her life.

Chancing a look behind her, she saw him, the hunter. He was closing in on her, jumping ducking, tucking and even side stepping anything that got in his way. His bow was no longer held in his hand. No, he'd taken to throwing knives! The brute! She couldn't see his face. It was hidden behind the ratty looking deep green hooded cloak he wore.

She would be dammed if some unfaced disgusting sniveling hunter killed her. She'd be damned, damnit!

Nothing she seemed to do, no amount of spells and dropped trees stopped this hunter. They were relentless. Fierce in their perusal of her. So much so that she could feel the ghostly breath of death upon her neck. Her time would be short at hand if she could not escape this hunter's eyes.

Death—it's a terrifying thought for someone who has always believed herself to be invincible.

Still, she runs. She will not give this hunter the satisfaction of killing her. It is not his place to force her to meet her maker! She would die when she was bloody well ready to die and today was not that day!

Turning sharply, she slips, the soil soft and slippery underneath her feet. Clawing at the ground, the black dirt sinking underneath her impeccably done nails, she forces herself back up tripping, not once but twice on the skirt of her dress. Damning it to hell she takes a hold of her skirt and rips the thing off, and stands, the black and red silk floating in the air around her. She uses it, expands it to block the hunter's sight on her.

An arrow tears right through the fabric and thunks into the tree she'd just passed.

Oh for the love of god, really…? She thinks internally, rolling her eyes as she looks away, happy she no longer has to hold onto the skirt of her dress. The material now itches at her upper thighs and her legs are exposed to the brush, but it cannot be helped. She turns, once again sharply, her breath hitching as she feels it. The fire moves across the top of her knee, just above her knee cap. Something snaps and she knows that a branch of some kind has just cut into her, but she hasn't looked down to see the damage.

Groaning, she keeps running, limping now. She feels it. The pain in her knee and the warm trickle moving down her leg. The blood is warm against her otherwise cold skin. She nearly trips—again—into an open clearing in the woods. She looks around, frantically trying to recognize where she is, trying to find an exit, an escape, her freedom.

Looking around, she hears the crunch of the hunter's boot behind her and she picks randomly, and off she goes.

Her chest hurts, her knee is throbbing and bleeding, her calves burn, and her heart races faster than her legs. Her muscles, all of them, are simply not meant for this type of exercise. She's been behind a desk for nearly ten years. She's never had to do her own dirty work, she's always had the power to hire others to do it for her. The last time she had to do something on her own was…well before she was married to Prince Phillip, Snow White's father. The swine, if he weren't dead already she'd think he was responsible for this.

-Two Days Prior-

The tred of horses shook the ground outside the castle as the royal caravan approached. The gates opened widely as if hoping to embrace the returning group in a fond gesture of welcome. Standing, anxious upon the stone steps of the castle's entrance just outside the large deep red oak doors stood Snow White. Wringing her hands together the Queen twisted and turned the elegantly threaded handkerchief within her grasp. Her eyes focused on the cloaked rider upon the black stallion.

The touch of a gentle hand on her shoulder caused the Queen to shift her gaze away from the approaching riders. The smiling face of her husband met her eyes, his face no longer cleanly shaven as he had taken to letting his beard grow. It was well maintained, Snow herself ensured that, but it allowed the noble King before her to look older than he truly was. Dressed in his royal regalia James looked to Snow and winked before stealing away one of the hands that had sought fit to strangle the life out of the poor handkerchief. The same white lace that their darling Princess Emma had sewed and given to Snow on her twenty eighth birthday.

Oh how impossible it seemed that it had been ten years since that beautiful Spring morning. It had been a day spent in the privacy of each other's company. They'd taken a picnic basket and had steered clear of Red Riding Hood's wood to enjoy the beautiful afternoon. The roses had just come into bloom and there was a taste of youth and beauty in the air that day. Very unlike this moment.

The air was growing colder even at the peak of the day, the sun at its zenith, and night five hours from this present moment. The trees had begun to lose their leaves as they ought as winter continued its silent approach.

"Woahoo…" The captain of the caravan called out to his own steed as it came to a stiff halt ten feet from the steps leading to the royal couple. Behind him his men dismounted, and of the twelve riders only one stepped out from behind the large horses, a dark forest green cloak around their shoulders. The wind blew at the thick covering as delicate hands rose to grasp each side of the hood, their steps never faltering as they threw back the cloak long sunlike blonde hair falling out around their shoulders.

Snow sighed, shifting her weight from foot to foot before she smiled happily, "Emma…" she breathed and met her daughter upon the second landing of the stairs. It had been nearly a month since she had last held her grown daughter, so the embrace they shared tried to alleviate the pain that'd been caused by Emma's absence.

Emma laughed as her arms wrapped securely around her mother's ribs and bent down a bit as her head was pulled to rest tightly down upon Snow White's shoulder. "I'm home now, mother. Please, you'll squeeze the air out of my lungs…" Emma's voice held her light tease as her eyes searched up the stairs to see her father making his way down to them. "Papa…do tell her she had nothing to worry about I was…umph…" Emma's words were cut short as she felt her father's arms wrap around both her and her mother tightly.

This bear hug however lasted much shorter before King James placed his hand back upon his Queen's shoulder, attempting to ease the grip held on their daughter who beseeched him with only her eyes for assistance. "Darling, you have all evening to reassure yourself she is here, safe. She may need to breathe every few minutes…"

Snow White blanched a bit as she released Emma, and took to wiping at her teary eyes with her handkerchief. She dabbed at her eyes as she chastised both James and Emma for teasing her. Her happiness, and her fear were both very real.

"You act as if I am still a child, mother, incapable of returning home when I'm called upon." Princess Emma was no child. Not anymore. Once upon a time she had been a small tiny little thing, gangly and gawky in her youth before she'd sprung like a weed and grew five inches gained twenty pounds and filled herself into the body of a desirable young lady.

"Yes, but as a child you often never did as you were told." Snow White reminded, brushing her thumb and forefinger across Emma's chin.

As a child Emma found pleasure in doing exactly what she was told not to and had been the cause of more than one rescue party being sent into the dark forest. It seemed she had inherited her mother's naturally sly and learned love for the woods and nature while enjoying the taste of rebellion and exercising the length she could push her parents before they'd snap. Oh, she had reached the limit often as a girl, insisting that she be allowed to study swordsmanship and the craft of weapon forgery like any man. Testing the patience of both her mother and father with her antics and insistence that there be no gender barrier, and if she found one she often broke it. Shattered it really.

Now, having learned every inch of the Enchanted Wood, the Wolves Wood and the Forbidden forest she longed to travel to lands she had not mapped.

In hopes of appeasing Emma's need to travel and search the realm for…something...King James and Queen Snow White had agreed to send her to Queen Uberta's kingdom. They had hoped that upon her return Emma would have found and filled that void that she swore was inside her through the travels. The couple had hoped that maybe Emma would return with news of not only a concluded peace negotiation and friendship but of an engagement to Queen Uberta's only son, Prince Derrick.

Unable to wait much longer for Emma's report, and hopefully joyous news, Snow White ushered her daughter into the castle while James spoke with the guards that had escorted Emma to and from the neighboring Kingdom.

As mother and daughter stepped into the castle several people swarmed around them, offering to take both women's cloaks, to have a bath prepared for Emma and to offer them something to drink, all within seconds of each other.

"I had forgotten how it could be," Shaking her head the Princess walked down the large immaculately decorated stone hallway.

"What could be?" Snow White asked curious.

"Nothing…nothing at all." Emma lied, forcing a smile that Snow White let slide, for now.

The tapestries that hung upon the wall, the portraits and golden accessories upon side tables heard nothing but the soft footfalls of two thoughtful women. Emma wondered as they walked towards the throne room, what her mother would think of her for rejecting the Prince's offer of marriage. He was a handsome young man, strong and seemingly kind. He lacked something, he lacked the insight into her to know that she was not only a pretty face. He wished to marry her because she was beautiful. He had not mentioned her intelligence, kindness, stubbornness, or even her independence. All he saw as he looked upon her was a woman that would look stunning upon his arm. She was a prize to him. Not because of who she was inside but because of how she looked on the outside.

Emma only wanted what every Princess wanted: their happily ever after. She grew up influenced by the beauty of true love, devotion and vitality. There would be no life, no inspiration, no happiness in a marriage to Prince Derrick, and she had said as much to the young Prince.

Emma was a Princess, but she was not meant to be Derrick's one and only.

Sighing, Emma shook her head as the doors were opened to the throne room the doors creaking and groaning as they were opened and closed just as quickly. Would she ever find her one and only? Her mother and father had found each other when they were nothing but young adults, the age of seventeen. Married at nineteen and full handed with her by their twentieth birthdays. Her eighteenth birthday was in two weeks and she had not found any Prince or Pauper to stand beside her in life like her mother and father had found each other.

"It is lovely to have you home again," Snow whispered turning to Emma at the sound of her soft sigh. Slipping her hand into Emma's she squeezed it gently and continued their walk, passing by the raised throne towards a small shabby looking door that led to the meeting hall where everyone was already gathered. There was much to share with Emma now that she had returned.

'Alive and safe, thank the stars.' Snow White thought earnestly.

"It is good to be home." It was nice to be in such a familiar place with faces she could count on and trust.

The frown that creased Snow White's brow drew Emma's attention. "You act as if you never expected to see me again." The lack of a rebuttal, of any kind of reaction but a stiff smile, made Emma freeze a moment. "Mother…?"

Holding the door open for her mother, Emma stepped into the meeting hall, surprised to see her father and the captain of the guard already present around the round table. The sense that something had happened in her absence was immediate. There was too tight of a shift in the air as she entered the room for it to be misinterpreted. Offering a small, unsure, smile Emma greeted each of her parent's longtime friends with a hug, swift shake of hand or bowed head.

"What's happened?" Emma asked as soon as she was seated.

The eyes in the room looked to the person on their right, each hoping the other had the courage to speak up. These looks were shared with all until King James stood from his chair and grasped the back of it tightly, his knuckles turning white as he took a moment to organize his thoughts. Nothing was forthcoming.

"Mother?" Emma asked again, her voice a bit desperate now, her assumptions correct. In seeing that her own father was hard pressed to speak of it she saw no other choice but to turn to her mother.

Snow White smiled what she hoped was a reassuring smile. She took hold of Emma's hand between the both of hers. Patting the top of her daughter's hand gently Snow White looked to James for some kind of assistance. The worry that she had lived with for nearly two weeks had finally dissipated at the arrival of a messenger from Emma's caravan, her beloved daughter was safe.

For now.

That was where the trouble lie. Emma was only safe for this moment, but Snow White swore she would give her life to ensure her daughter's safety. Just as James had done, while many of their friends, all kind faces and hearts who looked at her from around their table, had also swore. This very table had held many gatherings to deal with the threats that often plagued their land: famine, pirates, witches, dragons, Cyclopsie, gorgons, man eating wolves, and so much more. They had always faced the troubles together, supporting one another and finding solutions, even ones pulled out of thin air.

The last time they had convened in a meeting such as this was only two weeks prior when Rumpelstiltskin's carrying ons could no longer be ignored. Snow and James had gone to see their prisoner, their evil all seeing seer who'd been locked up for nearly two decades. No one wished for the fortune teller to be set free, not with the favors most owed the man. The grey skinned maggot eating man had foretold of a return, of darkness, death, unhappiness and of a curse that had been promised finally being fulfilled eighteen years later.

End Prologue

Not sure how long it will be between chapters. It will vary depending on my workload that week. Let me know what you think. :-)