Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize from the show or movie belongs to me.

A/N: So...I'm back. Happy New Year! Here - have a new story, full of feels, angst, and a large helping of Gremma. If you're wondering where I've been for the past year and a half, check out my author page.

This story is similar to I See the Light, in that it is AU and a reimagination of an animated movie (Anastasia). It's one that I've had on the backburner for a long time now (mostly in the plot bunny stage). Since I couldn't convince anyone to write the story for me, my 2016 goal is to bring the story to life myself.

A huge thank you to my ever-faithful beta Melissa, and to Kristy, who helps me plot like it's her job and contributed the first line of the story. Couldn't have done it without you!


It was usually quiet this early in the morning. For as long as he could remember, only the echoes of his footsteps against the marble floors broke the silence as the light peeked over the horizon. But this morning was different. And once he remembered what day it was, he realized why.

He found her in the music room, her back to the door, her hands running up and down the ivory keys. There was no music in front of her, but he knew she didn't need it. This was the song she always played with her mother, the one that he often wondered if Snow had written herself.

The one he'd always wanted to learn, but was too shy to ask anyone to teach him.

Emma might have been his best friend, and her parents had welcomed him with open arms, but he could never be one of them. She was eight today, and he was…anyone's best guess. They were royalty, and he had been found in the stables one winter. They ruled the kingdom, and he served in the kitchens. Her parents were the only ones he had ever known, but that didn't make them his.

"Good morning, Graham!"

It hadn't always been his name, but it was now. He had no memory of his parents, no idea what name they had given him when he'd been born, if they'd given him one. But ever since he had taken refuge in the castle, ever since Snow had named him after his favorite cracker, he'd been Graham.

"Good morning, Prin –" He glanced around; the room was empty. "Emma," he corrected himself. He knew how she hated being called Princess; it was one of the many things he liked about her. But even though her parents insisted he could call them and their daughter by any name he chose, he always made sure to address them formally in the presence of others.

"And happy birthday," he added quickly.

Emma beamed. "Thanks!" She scooted over to make room for him on the piano bench. After a moment's hesitation, he sat down next to her.

"You're up early," he noted.

She shrugged. "Couldn't sleep – too excited."

"Have you found your presents yet?" Emma always played hide and seek on her birthday. He'd watched her find her father every year, though no longer with her mother's help.

"Not yet," Emma said. "It's too early – no one's awake yet."

"Oh." Right.

"Do you – do you want to play with us this year?"

Graham felt a blush creeping up the back of his neck. Even though they had been friends for years, it still made him uncomfortable whenever Emma invited him to join in the family activities. He wanted to be part of her world, but he knew his place.

"I can't," he replied, shaking his head. "We have a lot to do today in the kitchens. It's a big day, as you may know," he added, trying to make her laugh. He hated disappointing her.

To his relief, Emma smiled. "I understand," she said. "Maybe next year."

"Maybe," he echoed.

Maybe next year, he'd have the courage to say yes.


"Eight – nine – ten! Ready or not, here I come!"

Emma finished counting and turned around. As expected, the ballroom was empty. She ran to the door and looked around. Both hallways were deserted, but there were more hiding places to the right. "You can't hide forever!" she called as she raced down the hall. "I will find you!"

I will always find you.

Emma found her mother in the study. "Don't tell me anything," she warned Snow as she walked over to the desk Snow was sitting at to give her mother a hug.

"Wouldn't dream of it, birthday girl," her mother answered, smiling. "But, you know, the sooner you find him, the sooner you can open presents."

"I'm a big girl now, Mama," Emma insisted. "Presents aren't everything."

Snow laughed. "You're so grown up!"

"Right, I'm eight," Emma said pointedly as she made her way around the room, glancing behind all the curtains. The study was always a good place to hide because there were so many available spots. She finished with the curtains and then dropped to her stomach, looking under the couch.

"Any luck?" Snow asked from the other side of the room.

"No," Emma replied, rolling onto her other side to face her mother. "Not yet any—hey! I said not to tell me anything!"

"I didn't tell you anything—" Snow began as Emma marched over to the desk. Emma pointed to the ground where she had seen her father hiding. Snow glanced down. "Oh. But I didn't say anything."

Emma tilted her head, indicating that she wanted Snow to move. Once Snow was out of the way, Emma crept toward her father. He might know that she was in the room, but he wouldn't know when she would pounce on him.

One, two…

"Boo!"

Emma shrieked as Charming rolled out from under the desk. "Da-ad. I'm supposed to find you."

He smiled. "And I never doubted you would." He wrapped his arms around her. "Happy birthday, sweetie."

"Thanks, Dad," she said as she hugged him back.

"Are you ready to see what's in here?" Snow opened one of the desk drawers and pulled out a small, wrapped box.

"Yes, please!"

Snow handed Emma the box. Emma held it up to her ear and shook it, trying to guess what was inside. She couldn't hear anything. "No noise? What is it?"

Charming chuckled. "Open it up and see."

Emma tore off the wrapping paper to reveal a smooth, latched black box. She undid the latch with trembling fingers, and immediately gasped. "Wow!" she exclaimed as she pulled out the gold necklace with a heart at the center. "It's beautiful!"

Her parents grinned. "Read what it says," Snow instructed.

Emma looked at the heart charm. "I will always find you." She threw her arms around her parents. "Thank you, I love it!" After Snow and Charming hugged her back, Emma pulled away and offered the necklace to Snow. "Will you put it on, please?"

"I will," Snow began, her eyes twinkling. "But there's something else you should see first."

Emma's eyes widened as she saw her father pulling another box out of his pocket. "This is not just any necklace, Emma," Charming said as he gave her the second black box. "It opens something very special."

Emma took the box from her father, glancing at it uncertainly. This box seemed to be latched just like the other one. She dug her fingernail under the latch, clicked the box open, and pulled out something gold and circular. It had a heart on the cover, just like the heart on her necklace.

"What is it?"

"You'll just have to open it," Snow said, smiling.

Emma inspected the circular box, and then placed the tip of the heart necklace into the slot. "Now what?"

"You have to turn it," Charming told her.

Emma turned the necklace to the right, and the top of the circular box popped open. "A music box!" she exclaimed as the melody began to play. She held the box to her ear and listened, beaming when she recognized the lilting tune. "It's our song!"

"Yes," Snow replied. "So you'll always be able to play it, even when I'm gone."

Emma's smile faltered. "Gone? Where are you going, Mama?"

"Oh – nowhere yet, darling," Snow answered quickly, pulling Emma into a hug and kissing her hair. "I just meant in general. I might have some trips coming up that will take me away from the castle for a few days, that's all."

"But you're coming back?"

"Of course."

"Besides," Charming joined in. "If she doesn't, then we'll send out a search party. You know what we always say." He pointed to the heart charm.

I will always find you.


Later, when they're lying in bed together, he realized she had tears in her eyes.

"Snow," he whispered, snaking his arm around her shoulders and drawing her closer. "What's wrong?"

"Oh," she sighed. "I just…" He waited while she collected herself and then turned around to face him. "Do you think Emma had a good birthday?"

Charming frowned. "Of course she did." Didn't Snow remember the way Emma's eyes had lit up when she'd seen the music box, or the way that Emma had positively glowed when Snow finally did the clasp on the necklace and put it on? Or the way Emma had clapped her hands in delight at the cake and the dancing at the party?

"I'm just…" He saw her swallow back more tears. "I'm so scared, David."

He pressed his lips together. "Me, too."

"What if this is the last one?"

He took both of her hands in his and kissed them. It won't be, part of him wanted to say. But the other part of him, the more practical part, the one that knew that empty words of comfort would have the opposite effect on his wife, stayed quiet. She had heard Regina's threat, too.

"Snow…" Charming trailed off. He had no idea what to say.

"Just – promise me something."

"Anything."

She drew a rattling breath. "Promise me that she won't be alone. We can't leave her alone. One of us has to be with her."

He heard what she didn't say. That she didn't expect both of them to survive. That this might be one of their last nights together. That they had no idea whether being with Emma meant being with her in life or – he couldn't even think it.

So he didn't. Instead, he tightened his grip around Snow's hands, drawing her into his chest, pressing his chin against the top of her head. No matter what Regina took from them, she could never take this, the love he felt for his wife and daughter.

"I promise."


It happened suddenly.

One moment there was silence, and the next, the screams and shouts of a palace under siege. He imagined her in full war regalia, a high-collared dress that billowed behind her, flattering every curve. Her make-up would be severe, with dark lines that made her look sinister and yet beautiful at the same time. She would have her trademark fireballs glowing in each hand as she blasted her way through the castle, in search of her mortal enemies.

He rolled over and up into a sitting position, brushing dust off his suit jacket before standing. He crept to the edge of the dungeon, remaining in the shadows. He didn't fear her, just wanted to remain out of the way. This was her moment, after all of those agonizing years of waiting. Now that she was finally willing to die to win, to tether her own life to her victory, she had enough power to defeat them.

He knew what she was going to do, could see it so clearly in his mind's eye that he hardly needed a front row seat to the action. She was so like her mother, with her unquenchable thirst for violence and revenge. He could see the fear on the guards' faces the moment before she killed them, the fear on everyone's faces as she eliminated everyone in her path. She was an unstoppable force when she wanted to be.

And he knew what they would be doing; they would be scrambling out of bed, drawing swords and arrows, hurriedly waking their child as they ran for safety. They had to know that defending the castle was useless, that it was best to cut their losses and run, find a way to retake the castle later. Swords and arrows were no use against magic. They could not surrender and leave themselves to Regina's mercy. They could not die and leave their young daughter on her own.

Too bad for them, she would have sealed all the exits.

Because she was his student, and she knew that the first thing about catching prey was making sure that it couldn't escape.

Too bad for her, he would have given them another way out.

Because this might have been her show, but it was still his future. And when it came to his own future, no one was as invested as he.

The seeds had been planted – quite literally, at that. He trusted that the boy would figure out the riddle, would realize that the magic bean would open a portal to another world. He'd been watching the boy for years, ever since the youngster had moved into the castle. He saw the way the boy looked at the young princess; he would do anything to protect her and her parents.

The screams grew louder, the yells more frantic. Footsteps thundered above him as everyone dashed for the exits. But they wouldn't find any relief. She would slaughter them all – enslave them, possibly, but more likely slaughter them. She couldn't risk sparing the lives of people who might remain loyal to her enemies.

Unless she managed to kill them. Then she could do whatever she wanted.

For her sake, he hoped she succeeded. For his sake, he was rooting for the boy.


"Graham!"

He turned toward the sound of her voice, relieved that he had found her, but scared that she was still in the palace. His last hope, that she had managed to find a way out, was gone. Emma ran toward him, Snow and Charming right behind her. Her face was flushed, her eyes shining, as she reached for his hand.

"We're running for cover, come on!"

"No!" Graham tugged on her hand. "You can't get out. The Evil Queen has sealed the exits."

He saw the color drain from Emma's face at these words. She stared at him, eyes wide, silently begging him to take it back. He hated making her feel this way. She shifted her gaze to her parents, and Graham followed suit, disheartened to see that they were just as alarmed at this news as Emma was. If they had any idea this attack was coming, they clearly hadn't expected it to be this bad.

Snow recovered first. "Are you sure?" she asked. He nodded. Snow immediately turned to Charming. "We have to tell everyone – we can't let them die here."

"There are other ways out," Graham said. "The servants' corridors; the dungeons. She doesn't know the castle the way we do."

Snow's expression cleared slightly. "Do you know a way out?"

Graham nodded again, feeling the bean growing damp in his sweaty hand. "I know another way. Follow me!"

He led them down the hall to the dining room, where the passages that led to the kitchen were. He didn't quite know what to do with the bean in his hand. The strange man's instructions hadn't exactly been clear. If the bean created some sort of door, how big was the door going to be? How long would it take to make? He hoped the kitchen passages were still open; he knew he could get out that way.

Emma's hand was still in his other one, her fingers cold and clammy. He squeezed her hand, trying to reassure her, but it was hard to make her feel better when he was so scared himself. What if they couldn't get out? What if this was the last time they saw each other?

"It's going to be okay," Emma murmured, so softly he wondered if he had only imagined it. "We're going to be okay."

He wanted so badly to believe her.

They burst into the empty dining room. Graham dropped Emma's hand and rushed to the furthest wall from the door. He was about to push open the hidden door to the servants' corridor, when a shout echoed off the walls that made him freeze.

"She's here, she's here! The Evil Queen is here!"

Emma gasped. "What do we do?"

It was now or never. Graham threw the bean to the ground, ignoring their questioning stares, as he thought furiously about where he wanted to go.

Take us somewhere safe. Somewhere away from the Evil Queen. Take us somewhere safe. Take us somewhere safe.

There was a blinding flash of light as the portal opened. He saw Snow and Charming exchange nervous glances. Emma stared at him, confused.

"Where did you get this bean?" Charming wanted to know. "Where does this portal go?"

"Somewhere safe," he replied. "And I got it-" But before he could finish, he was lifted off his feet. He had no time to prepare himself before he smacked his head into the stained wood as he slid across the floor.

"Graham!" he heard Emma scream. "Graham!"

He heard footsteps, then a hand on his back. "Graham." It was Snow. "Graham, can you hear me?" He tried to shake his head, not because he couldn't hear her, but because she couldn't be here. She had to go. The portal wouldn't be open forever.

"Emma, go!" Snow yelled. "We're coming."

Go, he echoed. Go, save yourself! He tried to open his eyes, but the pain blinded him.

"No!" Emma cried.

"Go, now!" Charming shouted. "We will find you!"

He managed to lift his head off the ground. His vision was blurred, but he opened his eyes just in time to see Charming push Emma into the portal. For a moment, the light completely illuminated her; then, she was gone.

His first feeling was relief: relief that she had escaped, that Emma at least was out of the castle. But relief was quickly replaced with dread. Where had the portal gone? What if it hadn't taken her somewhere safe? What if they couldn't find her again?

"No!" a new voice screamed. He heard flames, then shouts, followed by two sickening thuds as Snow and Charming joined him on the ground. He strained his neck, trying to twist around to get a better view of them.

What if they didn't survive?

He knew what it was like to grow up without parents. That constant feeling that something was missing, that you were lost, somehow; an orphan. He knew what it was like to cry yourself to sleep at night, to comfort yourself after a nightmare, to have the only hugs you receive be your own. That sense of loss would never go away.

He didn't want the same thing to happen to Emma.

"Where is she?" the Evil Queen demanded. "Where did that portal go?"

"Somewhere safe," Snow replied defiantly. "Somewhere you can't hurt her." Even now, Graham admired her bravery. "You will never hurt her."

He opened his mouth to shout a warning as the Evil Queen lunged at Snow. But before she could reach her, before he could say anything, Graham saw the flash of Charming's sword. Graham knew that Charming was a talented swordsman, but he was still no match for the Evil Queen's magic. There was no way his blade could damage the fireballs.

"David!"

Snow's scream echoed around the room as the slashes appeared across Charming's chest. Graham struggled to pull himself into a sitting position; the room spun whenever he moved his head, and his entire chest ached. He watched as Charming staggered and fell, blood gushing from his wounds. Snow began to move toward him, but the Evil Queen plunged her hand into Snow's chest, stopping her in her tracks. When she drew her hand back, there was something bright red in her hand. It took him a moment to realize it was a heart.

"No…" Graham gasped. He had to stop her. Graham screwed his eyes shut against the pain as he pushed himself onto his knees and began to crawl toward the Evil Queen. He kept his eyes trained on the ground, trying to stay awake, trying not to throw up. The pain in his head was nauseating. But he had to make it; he couldn't let this happen to Snow. To Emma. To Charming.

To himself.

"Stop," he managed to say, tugging on the back of the Evil Queen's robes. "Leave them alone!"

"What's this?" the Evil Queen cooed, turning around to look at him. She leaned over and slid her hand under his chin, forcing him to meet her eyes. Her other hand was empty. He blinked, confused. Had he only imagined the heart?

"A child!" She laughed derisively. "Let me tell you something, pet," she said, keeping her hand under his chin. "No one tells me what to do."

He narrowed his eyes. "I'm not your pet," he retorted, with courage he did not feel.

He expected her to reply in kind, or maybe to strike him again. But instead she did nothing, continuing to stare at him with an expression he couldn't read. Her eyes scanned over him. "You remind me of someone," she muttered, though more to herself than to him. She smiled widely. "Come with me," she said, extending her hand.

He hesitated. What did she want to do to him? And if he didn't go with her – what would she do to them?

"Come, child." Her tone sounded almost warm. She shook her hand slightly at him. "I'll take care of you now. I won't make you work anymore. You're much too smart to be a mere servant."

"I – I don't—"

"You opened that portal," she continued. "I saw you do it. You're an impressive young man. You deserve more than this."

He could barely hear what she was saying. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. "But what about…?" He turned his head as much as the pain would allow, trying to see Snow and Charming.

"Oh, it's too late for them, dear," the Evil Queen said. "Nothing left to do but die."

His insides turned to ice. His eyes fell on Snow. Her eyes were closed, her body still. There was a pool of blood near her side, but he knew it hadn't come from her. Slowly, unwillingly, he forced himself to follow the trail of blood to Charming, who lay as still as his wife.

"Come," the Evil Queen repeated. He felt her hand on his cheek, wiping away tears he hadn't realized he was crying. He continued to stare at Emma's parents, not wanting to leave. What if there was a chance they were still alive? What if he could still save them?

How could he have failed her? How could he have failed them all?

His world began to spin, the sickening pain from his head causing him to double over. He heaved, trying to rid himself of the waves of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. He pressed his head into his hands, squeezing his eyes shut. He was vaguely aware of the Evil Queen's hands on his shoulders, of her half-leading, half-dragging him away, as he gave in to the darkness. His last thought was of Emma.

I'll never see her again.


A/N: If you're reading this, please take a moment to drop me a review. I live for the feedback of others.