Note: I shall see you at the bottom for a detailed author's note, but I wanted to thank the beautiful and crazy CS fandom on tumblr for urging me to write this. You all know who you are ;)

Once upon a time, there lived a young woman, whose heart had forgotten to love,

From an unforgotten past wrapped tightly in iron-clad armour and walls of rust.

Once upon a time, there lived a young prince, whose heart yearned for more,

But dark forces conspired against him, and turned his dreams into fire and dust.

This is their story.

A simple case, they said.

You'll be out in no time, don't worry, Graham had dismissed her worries with.

Just your average uncontested divorce seating.

Instead, Emma Swan had been faced with two goddamn incredibly ignorant and immature late-teen divorcees playing a game of tug and war that she really wasn't in the mood for.

Thomas and Ella.

Or the blonde duo from hell, as Emma now dubbed them; crossing over an exceptionally busy set of traffic lights on the corner of Greenwich Street.

Late-afternoon New York greeted her with its usual noisy crowds and ever-oppressing heat; with it being damn well hot enough to start a heat wave, Emma thought dryly. A welcoming scent of cheap hotdogs and burgers from a nearby stand, and salted popcorn next door, blended with the familiar cool, sharp air of New York, and despite that morning's hell, she smiled.

Life as a divorce attorney was far from glamorous, but the young woman's life was indeed, good.

And as Emma quickened her stride to round another crowded street bursting with arrays of colours and aromas and busying passer-bys, her smile only grew. Large slabs of grey granite flecked with white and black encircled an incredible, stone female ballet dancer in mid-poise. The figurine's leg was elegantly raised in arabesque form, and Emma's eyes flickered across the stone woman's serene face. She quietly searched for a sign of life amongst the dead eyes.

Nearly every day she had come across the fountain, but Emma had never quite noticed the incredible detail before today. Etched, jewelled rings on carefully stretched fingers. A few dark freckles on top an architecturally sloped nose. Even a small inscription written in what appeared to be Latin encompassed one of the dancer's singular, long legs.

Emma took a quick glance at her watch. It read; 4:08, but after a careful sweep around the large area, Emma could see no school bus, or excited post-school children for that matter. No brown-haired young boy with a beaming smile and shining eyes desperate and pleading for just one more story before bedtime.

I always succumb to those damn puppy eyes, Emma thought fondly, though her mind unfortunately began to wander back to this morning's clients.

Perhaps it was the curse of a divorce attorney to never truly believe in love.

For Thomas and Ella, Emma could easily see how screwed they were from the beginning. The parents were of no help at all, Emma recalled with an eye roll. With antagonistic parents shunning their children's youthful love, Emma bit back the disappointment of seeing yet another relationship crumble under the pressure of outside forces.

It did little to sooth the young woman's scepticism towards modern romance.

However, as a yellow school-bus curled gently around the bend, Emma knew there was always one kind of love she could rely on.

A young boy with warm blue eyes and an easy smile laced with love only for her encouraged Emma's smile to blossom further. Henry's optimism was infectious and Emma frequently found herself reveling in her son's belief in hope within an oppressing world of negativity and chaos.

The young boy just never seemed affected.

If anything, her son not only accepted pain and anger as a part of life, but also used this as a reason to love everyone and everything that crossed his pathway.

It was all Emma had ever wanted. For Henry to grow up with hope.

Hope that she had never had.

Growing up in foster systems wasn't all evil step-mothers and poisoned apples for dessert. Though it was far from a fairy-tale in one of Henry's novels either, snobby kids and irritated carers were simply the only family that Emma had been graced with. It just wasn't the home Emma had craved.

And she'd never found it, until Henry.

Even Emma's shoulders, which were so often tense and squared with a determination for professionalism, automatically relaxed into a casual slope, and the slight breeze whipping long strands of blonde hair across the young woman's face only made her laugh. Emma squinted as the afternoon heat shone down and a shimmering light began to reflect off the bus' rearview mirrors and blinkers. She then took a few steps closer to the bus, amidst other parents and uncles and grandparents so that Henry could spot her easier.

"Mom!"

Speak of the adorable devil.

"Hey, kid." Emma greeted with a carefree smile. She also couldn't resist leaning down to press a quick kiss on her son's forehead. "Good day?"

"It was great! One sec…" Henry tugged and produced a handful of loose pages out of his navy rucksack with a flourish. He excitedly waved them in front of Emma's face, causing the corners to gently brush the tip of her nose. "Here, look!" Her son grinned bashfully. "I finished another chapter today! Grace and I worked on it together at Lunch. Oh! And Mrs Lucas even said I could enter it into the creative writing competition at the end of the year if it's finished by then. "

"That's great, Henry." Emma encouraged, unable to hide the pride in her tone. Henry's imagination was borderline genius, and Emma had a strong feeling she's see her son's name in publishing before he even left home. His current project was 'top secret' and she'd been banned from reading it until it was completed. As they turned down a smaller avenue, Emma lovingly wrapped an arm around his shoulders as they began to walk home.

"Mom?" Henry piped up. "Is Walsh coming over tonight? I wanted to ask for his help on this new Science project our class got set today. It's due in a week and I have no clue. Grace wants to do-"

"You and Grace seem to be spending a lot of time together, huh?"

Emma grinned when Henry exaggeratingly grimaced, his smile twisting into a frown.

The young boy shrugged off Emma's arm and quickened his pace. "Gross." Henry muttered. "I do not like Grace, mom."

"Sure you don't, kid."

"I don't!" He protested a little too forcefully. "Shut up."

The pair walked in companionable silence for a few moments and crossed over a few busy streets. As they turned the corner down the relatively large apartment complex on Ninth Avenue in which their own home resided, Henry seemed to reanimate and chirped up, "So…is Walsh coming over later?"

Emma swallowed but didn't reply for a few moments.

Walsh was a wonderful guy. Smart, kind, caring and excellent with Henry. Anyone else would think Emma crazy for not snatching him up as soon as possible. But Emma wasn't as strong as Henry was in believing in magic and love. She believed in common sense and the occasional good luck. So yes, whilst Walsh was always sweet to her, and had never once rudely pushed her out of her comfort zone, there was something holding Emma back.

There was always something holding Emma back.

It was that lack of faith in relationships that always prevented her own from ever succeeding. Thinking back to Thomas and Ella, Emma sadly concluded that there wasn't enough love in the world to prevent some form of obstacle or barrier from descending love into ruins. It was the harshest truth of reality.

I'm not pessimistic, just a realist, she quickly reminded herself.

Emma smiled apologetically at Henry. "You know what; I think he's out tonight." Henry's shoulders slumped slightly, and guilt tugged at Emma's heartstrings. Damn puppy eyes. "You can give him a call some other time, though, okay?" She added quietly.

And as Emma Swan pondered the inevitable failure of relationships, another world away; another was just about to begin.

"Is it customary to ride one's horse into a branch, young prince?"

"And is it customary to dare to address your prince in such blasphemous discourse, noble David?"

"I do when the prince - and only heir, may I add - is under my humble protection." -came the somewhat disgruntled reply from a few meters behind.

Killian laughed at that, a free and loud expression that echoed across the forest. "Oh, hush. It caused a scratch and nothing more, my friend!"

As two expert riders dashed across the forest, they began to cross over from the smaller, modest kingdom of Andalasia into the green, luscious arms of the Enchanted Forest.

Scenery of soft clouds and tall, exotic trees enveloped most of the high-risen sun's morning light, though Prince Killian and Sir David needed no light to guide their way. This was a route most common to many knights and nobles. Especially once a month, at the monthly hunting parties led by a high lord and adviser to the Queen, Lord George.

Riding on further, Killian grinned as he leant forwards in his saddle; driven and urged on by the anticipation and thrill that riding always offered.

There was an element of magic in the way that the rhythmic clapping of hooves upon rough terrain sounded like a soothing lullaby to the prince's ears. Something in the sky, earth and heavens aligned to focus his mind and heart on whatever destination was set upon. It was enthralling. Killian had never quite succeeded in finding anything as satisfying as being seated upon his favourite horse, a dark chestnut beauty named William.

Leaving Andalasia behind was equally enjoyable.

Of all the five kingdoms in the realm he lived in, Killian felt his own kingdom to be the most oppressing. Bordering the Enchanted Forest, Andalasia was the smallest kingdom, but only by a slight margin. However, its ownership over the largest and well-equipped navy and ships at its disposals established it as a treasured and well respected kingdom to all. Killian enjoyed the safety and security within the grand, elegant crème and pale gold Andalasian palace; with its sloping curved turrets and surrounding moat.

Though it was that safety that suffocated the young prince.

Despite having fond relationships with both his parents, King Phillip and Queen Aurora, who were gracious and benevolent rulers, Killian's parents could not grasp their son's delight for adventures. True, they themselves threw balls and extended invitations to games and celebrations, but Killian deliberately sought out dangerous tasks and quests. His heart yearned for adventure as though he could not breathe until faced with mortal peril. Royalty was in his blood, but so was a perplexed desire for adventure. Frequently, Killian would journey across all five kingdoms in search of the latest and greatest evil to conquer. He'd fought troublesome giants and ogres and battled steel-armoured dragons. Four-headed lions and beckoning sirens; and even defeating fearsome pirates of every seas.

However, Killian was always reluctantly aware of his royal duties.

He'd been adamant and determined to educate himself in the ways of political correctness, kingdom alliances and social engagements. Understanding the five kingdoms took a little time. First, there was the Enchanted Forest, ruled over by the fiery Queen Regina. Secondly, of course, a little to the south was Andalasia. Then, further South was King Midas' kingdom of gold and treasure; a kingdom no man or woman dared to invade out of fear of being lost to the King's dreadful curse.

Surprisingly, Killian had thought humorously, turned to gold is not high on, well, anyone's desired list.

In the South-East lay the peaceful kingdom of Atlantica, led by the equally harmonious King Eric and Queen Ariel. Apart from the Enchanted Forest, Atlantica was Killian's second favourite kingdom. The surrounding crashing waves and high-ranged mountain peaks soothed him, and Ariel and Eric's invitations to stay never wavered.

Finally, The Dark One's kingdom lay in the South-West; the kingdom that Killian, or anyone else for that matter, knew littlest about.

He'd heard epic tales of a monstrous beast, or an evil wizard. Over many days, Killian overheard servants whisper, "I think he's a demon.", or, "They say if you cross the Dark One, you lose your soul!". After that, Killian took his parents advice and stuck to the facts and forced himself to ignore the various exaggerated rumours.

The young prince had even grown up with a hunting partner, Sir David, who had been a close friend ever since they were able to walk, or more importantly, play fight and ride.

As of right now, Killian very much doubted that David enjoyed their frequent hunting participations.

"Can't keep up with my impeccable riding, my friend?" Killian playfully called out over his shoulder, tossing his friend a quick flash of a teasing grin.

"I'm afraid, your highness," David's reply was an equally friendly quip, ", that your ego demands me to leave a large gap between us." Killian laughed when David let out a muffled yelp, likely caused by another low-hanging branch. "Alas, I cannot budge it. Believe me, I have tried and failed on numerous callings!"

Killian happily threw his head back and laughed once more, and a few moments later, David joined in. "Oh, the shame."

"I agree, my prince. "

As their laughter faded into the breeze, Killian and David rode side by side for a minute or two until the forest opened into a large clearing in which an impressive castle rose before them.

It was sizeable, at least one hundred meters tall, but also somewhat monstrous. A pyramidal base of dark grey walls rose in sharp slopes to collide in a singular point in a threateningly cold pinpoint. It was as though it was constructed by metallic icicles. However, there was hidden beauty if you knew where to look, and Killian looked upon them now. Small, stone balconies graced each floor, offering a splendid view across the grassy hills, mountains and the shimmering Lake Nostos in the distance. A wall of glistening marble surrounding the castle, as well as tiny diamonds encrusted along the turrets.

Killian let out an appreciative whistle. "The kingdom awaits us."

"That it does." David replied, pulling his horse up close to Killian; head tilted in admiration up at the tall castle. "It gets me every time." After a few more moments, David added, "We should ride on. Sir George is hardly known for his forgiveness of tardiness."

"Indeed, he isn't." With a short nod of his head, Killian shot David another grin. "Excellent thinking."

David returned the gesture and winked, "Someone has to be."

Laughing with ease, the two men spurred their horses on towards the castle in a slow gallop pace.

Half an hour later and the hunting party was most likely forming outside the grand iron gates of the Queen's castle.

Killian, however, had decided to go for a quick leisurely ride beforehand.

He claimed to David, George and the other men and women gathered to hunt that it cleared his mind, but really it was sheer pleasure. And the isolation of the forest provided relaxation before an engaging hunt.

Killian did enjoy the hunts. Many knights, nobles and even simple peasants and villagers were welcome. Queen Regina was less accepting of commoners, but her adviser, Sir George was not a man driven by status or power. The older man simply smiled and offered invitation to any with a horse or hunting weapons. And together, the hunting party would chase chimera and other winged beasts until their hearts grew weary and tired. Then they would retire to a splendid feast for that evening.

It was never about the game itself, but often about the hunt and chase.

Killian disliked capturing such peaceful creatures as chimera. He'd come across various forms and none had acted as the offence. He grew uncomfortable when certain knights boasted of their game killings, and often politely excused himself to the palace gardens or his own chambers to escape.

Once or twice, Killian had bumped into the Queen's daughter. The princess, Milla; a charming, dark-haired woman with a tongue rehearsed in both formal and casual manner. They had engaged in conversation occasionally in the gardens, and Milla often spoke surprisingly freely compared to her mother's icy exterior. Killian enjoyed her company with fond ease. Milla was relaxed and bright in spirit, and had once or twice joined the hunting party. Though she too never slayed so much as a hair on a single creature.

But there was always something missing in their talks.

Perhaps it was simply their kingdom's distance that disallowed a connection. Or the uneasy feeling that Killian sensed in Milla that she was anticipating something he could never offer. Whether that was safety or a whirlwind romance, he was sadly, unaware. But also, sadly, Killian knew that love was not a gift he had the pleasure of offering the spirited princess.

Shaking thoughts of princesses and duties from his mind, Killian revelled in his own wishes. Freedom. The singular thing just out of reach to the prince. True, riding brought him close to such freedom. But it was only temporary. Disgruntled, Killian exhaled with a familiar disappointment. If only he was as equally free as the tiny winged birds that now hovered above the skyline.

What I wouldn't do to possess a pair of chimera wings, he thought dryly.

Although, he realised suddenly, it was not duties and responsibilities that burdened him. But it was the fear of loneliness and isolation that Killian identified in both Milla and Queen Regina's carefully cool gazes. They were lonely, as the young prince feared he might be one day. If only there was someone out there; a love waiting for his arrival.

Surely there is, Killian considered hopefully. A quick tap of his heel against William brought the horse into a slow walk. She could be waiting for me right now. I must not give up hope just yet. He decided, though his gathered optimism was strained and forced.

Perhaps, even, she is right around the corner…

Suddenly, a prickle of fear spiked Killian's senses as he came to a halt amidst a small clearing. It jolted him from any previous thoughts. Tiny hairs stood up along his arms as his right hand came to a tense rest on the hilt of his sword. What in Heaven's name was causing such a reaction? The prince looked around for a few moments, eyes narrowed. But he was only greeted by green land, towering trees and…

"Please, NO!"

There.

Spun on by the frightened cry, Killian quickly turned William around a small grouping of trees to reveal a large stone well where two figures stood before it. Forcefully pressed with her back painfully taunt against the marble wall, Milla looked terrified; the princess' eyes wide and mouth open in mid-scream. Even from a few feet away, Killian noted her trembling arms pinned against the stone.

But it was the smaller, gleeful figure holding Milla down that caused Killian a moment's fear. Attired with a dark pants and a blood red jacket, the man's – or more specifically – beast's – sleeved was pulled upwards to reveal strange, reptilian skin. One hand was tightly curled around Milla's wrist, and Milla's tiny gasp confirmed her pain. As the man turned, Killian bit back his own gasp.

The eyes.

Reptilian, green-grey and narrowed like the sharp slant of a dragon's burning gaze. Killian started for a heartbeat, frozen mid-ride. He'd heard the rumours, of course, and read the tales too. But seeing the Dark One up-close and personal sent fear cascading into Killian's heart.

Nethertheless, as soon as momentary shock began to fade, Killian forced himself to dismount from William and quickly withdrew his sword as confidently as possible. He then rushed forwards, desperately ignoring the painful loud thumping of his heart and the breathless nature of his exhales. His feet felt wooden, as though they had not been carved with curves. Although Killian was unsure whether this was a threat in itself, he remembered duel training and cleared his throat. Rule number one, always address your opponent.

"I am Prince Killian of Andalasia." Fortunately, his voice rang clear and loud. "I demand to know who dares harm a princess."

If anything, the Dark One simply looked amused at the prince's threat. Removing his scaly hand from around Milla's wrist, the strange man grinned to reveal scratched, sharp teeth before sweeping into a mocking, formal bow. "Rumplestilskin. At your service."

"Step away from the princess." Killian demanded as he clearly wielded his sword in the Dark One's direction.

Throwing Milla, who had established a sensible distance from the conflict behind the well, a knowing smirk, Rumplestilskin lifted his chin and squared the young prince with growing amusement. "Well, well, well, would you look at this, princess? Your hero has arrived. What a surprising turn of events."

The Dark One laughed; a gleeful, child-like laughter that chilled Killian's blood.

Without wanting to draw further attention to the threat of being on the Dark One's violent side, Killian lowered his sword slightly. "Leave and this shall be forgotten." He offered. Perhaps it was not the more heroic cause of action, but it was the pathway that seemed to prefer survival. And right now, the young prince suspected it was what both he and Milla desired.

"I hardly doubt that." Rumplestilskin cocked his head slightly, running his gaze curiously over Killian. "But your twisted pathway is one I do not wish to end before its time."

And then with another high-pitched laugh, the Dark One disappeared into a whirlwind of jade smoke.

Little did Killian know that the Dark One spoke the truth.

The young prince's pathway had only just begun.

A/N: Hello, all.

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, it should serve as an introduction to both Emma and Killian and their different lives.

I found it greatly easier to write Emma, than Killian without turning him into, well, a pompous ass of a prince. So, I've been wishing to write this fic since forever. Enchanted is one of my all-time favourite movies and CS seems to fit it perfectly, so…voila!

And the beautiful and crazy CS fandom on tumblr has been amazing in urging me on to write. Oh, and as of now, all my exams are finished for the summer so I can finally dedicate more time to writing.

As for updates, I'll aim to update at least once a week, but as always, it varies on the muse and inspiration.

Also, if there are any complications:

Killian = Giselle (yes, you are allowed to laugh for a few moments)

Emma = Robert (cue laughter)

Walsh = Nancy.

Milla =? (Anyone care to venture a guess?)

Oh, and bonus points if you can guess who David is in the story.

On another side note, if any of you guys have any questions or queries about this fic; give me a message on ff. Or if you prefer, you can also find me on tumblr under, 'captainkillyswan' where I frequently live ;)

Until next time, my lovelies.

P.S. Song inspirations for this chapter; Lauren Kasen – Same Heart, Tom Odell – Hold Me (acoustic) and Kodaline – All comes down.