After a bit of a writer's funk and a finicky muse, the next chapter is here! Thank you to everyone who has patiently been waiting on an update on whichever works of mine you're fallowing.

As always, enjoy, and reviews feed the muse!

Chapter 4: Like Mother, Like Son

"Red or blue?"

"Blue."

"Swan, you've not even looked at them!"

Sticking her head around the side of the folding screen, Emma found her husband standing at the foot of their large four poster bed. He was dressed in his formal leather pants and a white shirt that he hadn't bothered buttoning yet, giving her an unobstructed view of the dark hair that covered his toned chest as he held up the vests in question for her perusal.

"Blue," she stated again, her breath catching slightly on the word as the maid behind the folding screen with her began to lace up Emma's gown.

Killian eyed the midnight blue vest dangling from his hook with a questioning eyebrow raise. "You don't think it's too… royal?"

Chuckling, Emma straightened to make the maid's job easier. "I know you hate to use the title, but you technically are a prince with our marriage, Killian."

"Swan."

She didn't even have to see him to know Killian was giving her an unamused look. He had refused to use the title from the moment they had reestablished Misthaven twenty-nine years ago, and had even threatened to gut a Duke from a neighboring kingdom once for addressing him as 'Prince Killian'. There was an irony to the fact that Emma had accepted she was a princess but her husband staunchly refused to embrace the royal title he'd earned through their marriage.

"It's the truth. Besides, the blue one compliments my dress."

"The dress you've refused to let me see, you mean?"

Running her hands along the scarlet fabric that covered her body, Emma teased, "Can't a wife surprise her husband?"

Killian's deep chuckle reached her ears along with the unmistakable sound of rustling fabric, indicating he'd given in and shrugged on the vest. "Of course you can, love. I was merely pointing out—"

A sudden and harsh knock on the door that separated the sitting room from their bedroom caused Emma to frown. No one in their family would need to see them as they were all preparing for Liam and Elizabeth's ball. In fact, the entire castle staff were either going over the fine details of the ballroom, in the kitchens finishing up the night's feast, or helping the visiting royals get ready. Who in the world could be knocking on their bedroom door for an audience at a time like this?

"Killian?"

"It's only Jameson, love. I asked him to bring me the latest naval report before the festivities began. I'll be back shortly."

It wasn't a lie, but Emma's superpower tingled enough to let her know her husband wasn't telling the whole truth. Peeking around the folding screen, she watched as Killian opened the door and slipped into their sitting room, giving her the briefest glance of Jameson standing on the other side before Killian quickly shut the door behind him. That was odd. While Jameson, a former member of Killian's crew, did courier the naval reports between Killian and the Commodores, it was a strange request for her husband to make right before a ball. Particularly one celebrating the upcoming wedding of their son and future daughter-in-law. Now that she thought about it, he had been acting strange for the past few days—insisting he be the one to answer when someone knocked, taking meetings with Smee at odd hours, and there was the piece of parchment that he'd quickly shoved into his desk drawer when she entered his study two days ago.

No, her husband was planning something, she just wasn't sure what it could be. Was he going to surprise Liam and Elizabeth with something at the ball? Or had he made another crazy, drunken bet with her father that she nor her mother knew about? He had been talking about getting in touch with Maya and having a coat similar to his own made for Erin since their daughter had such a fondness for it...

"All done, your Highness."

Pulled from her internal musing of trying to figure out what her husband might be planning, Emma realized her gown was fully laced and she turned to give the maid a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Mary. I can handle the rest if you want to freshen up before the ball."

With a low curtsey Mary left, and Emma waited until she heard the bedroom door close once again before stepping from behind the folding screen. She could hear the sound of Killian's accented voice—she couldn't make out exactly what he was saying from where she stood—but Emma made no move towards the wooden door. Eavesdropping on each other's conversation was not how their marriage worked. He would tell her what he was doing in his own time, especially if it involved one or more of their children. Instead, she made her way to the full length mirror that sat in the left corner of the room to give herself a once over before Killian came back into the room.

Her gown was sleeveless and A-line cut, a detail she had fought tooth and nail with the royal seamstress on since it ensured the most comfort while still being formal enough for a ball. The modestly shaped sweetheart bodice fit her like a glove and the sheer fabric in the same scarlet color as the rest of the dress extended up past her breasts, creating a delicate scooped neckline befitting a princess. The lower part of the gown was fitted at her waist but flared outward slightly as it fell to the floor like the bud of a tulip, and the back of it spread out behind her to a moderately length train. It was long enough to be regal, but short enough so she wasn't fighting with it all night. Hundreds of rubies and diamonds were sewn into the fabric, giving the otherwise simple gown a brilliant sparkle with every move she made. As she always did when it came to these types of occasions, she'd kept her hair and accessories simple. Her slightly graying locks were pulled into a low ponytail, and aside from her engagement and wedding ring, the only other piece of jewelry she wore was a diamond bracelet on her right wrist.

There were many facets of being a princess that Emma had gotten use to over the last twenty-nine years, but the one thing she had never become accustomed to was wearing a ball gown. She found them an annoying inconvenience, an opinion that hadn't changed since the first time she had been magicked into one. The skirts were always cumbersome, the corsets that were a required undergarment cut into her ability to breath, and there was really no sensible place to put a weapon while wearing one. Emma had to admit she liked being in this one, though that was more than likely because she'd been adamant about certain details rather than letting the seamstress have final say as was normally the case.

"Bloody hell."

Turning from the full length mirror at the sound of Killian's voice, she saw him standing in the middle of their bedroom, his eyes slowly taking her in from top to bottom. It wasn't how she had planned to reveal her gown, but the slack jawed expression on her husband's face still filled her with feminine pride.

"I take it you like the dress?" she asked while moving towards where he seemed rooted to the stone floor.

"Aye," he breathed, his hand coming up to run across the rubies and diamonds on her bodice with the back of his fingers once she reached him. "Swan, you look—"

"I know." She smiled as the memory of the first time they had ever said that phrase to one another flashed through her mind. "I figured red was a good color choice because it's your favorite."

"Indeed, though I must admit it looks far better on you than it ever did me."

Emma hummed thoughtfully, letting her own gaze take in the vest he wore. The midnight blue fabric hugged his toned torso in all the right places, accentuating his broad shoulders and trim waist while bringing out the natural blue of his eyes. Tracing the silver embroidery that had been carefully stitched into the fine fabric with her fingers, she marveled at how even that detail complimented the gray streaks in his dark hair before resting her hands on his hips.

"You're wearing that blue awfully well though, Captain."

"I'll keep that in mind for when I need new vests," he said, giving her one of those devastating smirks that still made butterflies flutter in her stomach.

"Anything amiss in the report Jameson brought to you?"

Killian didn't respond at first, his blue eyes meeting her green ones in a look that she knew after almost three decades together meant he was studying her. Only a few silent heart beats passed between them before he chuckled. "You know there was no report."

"I do have that little superpower the kids found annoying when they were growing up," she teased with a smirk of her own. "And I know my husband fairly well."

"Aye, that you do. Truthfully, I wasn't even trying to circumvent your superpower, love. I was only hoping to throw you off long enough so I could acquire the item from Jameson without incident."

Emma followed Killian's gaze when it dropped at the end of his sentence, and she blinked in surprise. There, no bigger than the width of her palm and resting in his now outstretched hand, was a small wooden box.

"What's that?"

"Can't a husband surprise his wife?"

She shot him a knowing look for using the same phrase she had said to him when he mentioned her insistence on keeping her dress a secret. For a man who spent centuries as a ruthless pirate, Killian Jones was by far one of the most romantic men to ever walk any realm. Gently taking the box from him, she flipped the golden latch and opened the lid to reveal a pair of swan shaped, diamond stud earrings nestled on a black velvet cushion.

"Oh, Killian!"

"I know tonight is about celebrating Liam and Elizabeth, but I thought the mother of the future groom deserved something to mark the occasion," he murmured.

Smiling, because of course her husband would think to get her something so she could always remember their son's special night, Emma ran the tip of her index finger over one of the earrings.

"They're beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you are," he replied, lifting her chin to give her a chaste kiss. A wave of contentment warmed her from the inside out, that feeling of utter happiness she never tired of seeping into her very bones until she felt like she was shining from it. It wasn't about the gift itself—Emma didn't need diamonds or lavish tokens to be happy—it was the fact he had done it simply because he wanted to. She'd overcome a lot of her walls in their time together, but it still shocked the little girl who had never been given anything that still resided deep within her every time he did something like this.

Placing one last kiss and a whispered, "Thank you," to his cheek, Emma quickly slipped the earrings on and moved to her vanity. They aren't just beautiful—they are absolutely stunning, she thought as she admired them in the oval mirror that was attached to the antique white table. The diamonds themselves were exquisite, their brilliance dazzling even in the dimly lit room, but it was the craftsmanship behind their cut that really took her breath away. Everything from the graceful curve of the swan's head to the tip of its wing was precise and artfully crafted—not that she would have expected anything less from a gift her husband had commissioned.

"I knew you were up to something," she said, chuckling at her husband's reflection in the mirror before storing the small wooden box in the top drawer of her vanity.

"Yet you couldn't tell when my heart was missing, could you?"

Emma's breath caught at the unexpected and harshly spat words. Where had that come from, and why would he say such a thing after giving her a beautiful gift? And on tonight of all nights? Looking over her shoulder, she watched Killian walk calmly across their room to retrieve his formal greatcoat from the wardrobe. She could barely make out through the pounding in her ears that he was still talking to her as he did—something about a hilarious conversation he had with her father earlier in the day—but she couldn't process the story, not when his bitter words were playing on a loop in her head. The worst part was that he was acting like the entire thing had never happened.

Just as she started to ask him to repeat what he had said, the realization of what had happened—again—hit Emma like a magical punch to the stomach.

Swallowing against the familiar panic that tried to choke her, she quickly turned back towards her vanity before Killian could notice something was wrong. She should have known. With all the times this had happened over the last four months, she should have known what she heard wasn't real. More than that, she should have known Killian wouldn't say that. In the almost thirty years since it happened, Killian had never once blamed her for not knowing that Rumple had taken his heart.

"Swan?"

Glancing up, she was surprised to see Killian standing slightly behind her in the reflection of her large vanity mirror. She'd been so consumed with berating herself for falling for the trick again that she hadn't realized he'd donned his formal greatcoat and made his way back over to her. Even with her mind still muddled around what was real and what wasn't, she didn't miss how handsome he looked in his full attire for the ball. The quilted black fabric that stretched over his broad shoulders gave him a softer and in her opinion—though she'd never say it out loud to him—a more princely look, especially when it was paired with a vest that complimented his dark looks.

"Hm?"

"I asked if you were alright," he repeated, his brow furrowing in concern while his hand gently caressed the exposed skin of her upper right arm. "You didn't comment on what your father said, and I've called your name at least three times."

"Sorry, my mind is having trouble concentrating on any one thing tonight," she replied, the lie tasting like ash in her mouth.

God, she hated this. Not only was she being robbed of quiet moments, but hearing things that weren't really said had also caused her to lie more to her husband in the last four months than she ever had in their almost thirty years of marriage. Giving herself a good mental shake, Emma reached for the khol they shared and leaning towards the mirror, ran the the stick beneath her lower waterline. She didn't need to freshen her makeup, but it kept her hands busy and gave her something to focus on other than the fear that had started to settle in the pit of her stomach again.

Once she was finished and had straightened, Killian wrapped his arms around her until she was completely enveloped by him. "Are you still worried about Erin?"

"I am, but not nearly as much as Liam is." At least she could say one thing that wasn't a complete and utter lie. Leaning her back against his hard body, she let his warmth seep into her and allowed it, along with the safety of his arms, to chase away the lingering fear brought on by the realization of what had happened. Whatever was happening to her couldn't touch her with him here, she told herself—or at least she hoped. Feeling his arms tighten around her, she found his piercing and still concerned gaze in the mirror.

"You sure you're okay, love?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

The truth was she wasn't fine, and hadn't been in months. Between the nightmares and hearing people say things, Emma was slowly losing her mind but she couldn't tell Killian that. "It's just lack of sleep catching up with me. I've clearly not had enough hot cocoa for my higher brain functions to still be operating this late in the day."

She didn't miss the knowing flash in Killian's eyes at the mention of her sleepless nights before he dipped his head to press a light kiss to her right shoulder. To anyone looking on it would have seemed like a romantic gesture, a lover bestowing a physical token of his affections, yet Emma knew he had done it to conceal the uncontrollable clenching of his jaw. Her eyes slammed shut as guilt washed over her like a tidal wave. He knew something was wrong. He didn't know about the vivid nightmares or how she had begun hearing snatches of conversation that weren't real, but he knew something was causing her to have sleepless nights and that she wasn't telling him about it.

If only she could.

"Mom, Dad?"

At the sound of Liam's panicked voice coming from their sitting room, Emma turned her head and softly kissed Killian's jaw. She forced herself to focus on the familiar scratch of his facial hair against her lips rather than the unshed tears of frustration that were rapidly building behind her closed eyes. "Go and make sure your son isn't freaking out about tonight. I'll be there in a few seconds."

She felt Killian war with the decision to leave, the struggle to push her or drop the subject evident in the way his jaw ticked beneath her lips. It wasn't the first time she had sensed her husband's inner turmoil, and if the last six months were any indication, it wouldn't be the last. In the end he silently relented, and with a comforting squeeze of his arms he moved to see what Liam wanted.

As soon as Killian had left their bedroom Emma braced her hands on the edge of the vanity table and took an unsteady breath. She could do this. How often since a ten-year-old Henry had found her had she battled one unexplainable evil after another? The decks had been stacked against her in those cases, and she had always won in the end. She'd fought off whatever was happening to her for this long, and she would continue to do it—especially for tonight. No nightmares, hearing things that weren't really said, or her failing magic were going to get in the way of her being happy for her son and future daughter-in-law. Tonight was a quiet moment, and Emma Jones would be damned if anything ruined it.

She pointedly ignored the shaking of her right hand as she reached for her tiara.

Standing off to the side of the busy dance floor in a less-populated corner, Liam took a large gulp of wine as he surveyed the ongoing festivities around him.

The center of the ballroom was filled with dancing couples, the flowing dresses a brightly colored sea of movement atop the stationary gold and black checkered floor. Those not partaking of the instrumental music encircled the grand room and mingled amongst one another, the hundreds of individual conversations creating a pleasant hum beneath the ongoing notes of the waltz. Elaborate jewels hung from the necks and ears of the women, sparkling with every movement they made, while the men's belt buckles and sword pommels were polished until one could see their reflection in them. An army of butlers maneuvered between the conversing guests, the Charming coat of arms emblazoned on their formal dinner jackets and trays of goblets filled with wine balanced on their gloved hands.

Royalty and important commoners alike packed the room, with fifty different kingdoms and at least five realms represented amongst the guests. He didn't know all of them—not even half, really, even with him being a prince himself—but he easily found those he did know amidst the crowd of unfamiliar faces.

Ana and Liam's father, along with his mother and Uncle Will, were twirling around the dance floor, the respective couples having switched partners for the lively waltz currently filling the ballroom. His Aunt Elsa stood by the long buffet table on the left side of the room with her sister, Anna, who was in a very animated conversation with a man Liam thought might be the Duke of the Shivering Isles. Rumple and Belle were conversing with King Arthur and Queen Guinevere in their own unpopulated corner, his aunt and her second husband no doubt using the fact that Arthur was here to get a jump start on finding a long-lost Avalonian artifact. Henry and his wife, Alice, sat in plush chairs next to the double doors that led to the courtyard and were affectionately watching their sons, Bae and Jefferson, take turns dancing with an ecstatic Hope.

His grandfather was slowly making his way around the room as one of the gracious hosts, and Liam noted his grandmother was still missing from the festivities. He'd saw her familiar form leaving a little over half an hour ago as he and Elizabeth chatted with the newly crowned Queen of Oz. Smee had been by her side, his father's former crew member talking excitedly as the pair ducked out of the ballroom's main doors. It was odd that his grandmother would leave a ball once it started, particularly one of this caliber, but Liam had assumed there was an issue with a late arrival at the docks that needed her attention. Why else would the Royal Harbormaster seek Snow's attention in the middle of a ball?

After exchanging his empty wine glass for a full one as a butler walked past, Liam's eyes fell on the woman that had captured his heart so many years ago.

Elizabeth was a vision in her strapless gown, its blush color complementing her fair skin and the juxtaposition of the firm, corseted bodice with the soft, tulle skirt a perfect physical representation of her personality. She had left her dark brown hair down to cascade around her shoulders in soft waves upon his request, and the tiara her stepmother had given her when the White Queen of Wonderland declared Elizabeth her heir sparkled atop her head. They had been in the middle of catching up with the newly married Princess Alexandra when Liam had excused himself, his guilt at leaving Elizabeth's side during the festivities lessened by the fact that he had done so while she was talking with someone she knew and not one of the hundreds of strangers in attendance.

He just needed a few minutes to calm the turbulent thoughts that had continued to lurk at the edge of his subconscious since the War Council ended—not that he was having much luck with that.

At that thought, Liam took another large gulp of wine, his eyes moving from where Elizabeth still stood with Alexandra to the couples still dancing. He hadn't stopped thinking about the nightmare scenario his father's words had inadvertently created all afternoon. It had been there during the chat with his Aunt Belle, dancing at the fringes of his subconscious and tickling his anxiety just enough that he hadn't had the stomach to finish the tea his godmother sat in front of him. It had continued to gnaw at him while he aided his grandfather in keeping Granny from firing a crossbow into his Uncle's Will's backside for sneaking into the kitchen to taste test the dinner menu, and had persisted as he and Elizabeth got ready for the ball. Images of his newly discovered worst fear had played out in his mind's eye while he shrugged on the Naval uniform he currently wore, the combination of the tight collar and his anxiety making him feel like he was being choked.

It had led him to seek out his parents before the ball, despite the fact that he had told himself he would wait until after the event to talk with them about the course of action he was going to suggest. He had barely started to broach the subject with his father, however, when his niece had burst into his parent's sitting room with enough enthusiasm about her dress to fell a horde of ogres. Bringing the subject up had further been derailed when his grandparents and Elizabeth showed up, and before Liam had even had time to blink the entire family had been on their way to the ballroom. With the constant stream of music and dancing, as well as the fact he had been occupied with meeting guests from the moment he stepped into the room, it had been impossible to find a moment to pull his parents to the side and talk with them privately—and he desperately needed to.

The more his mind fixated on the scenario the more he realised it was something they needed to take action on sooner rather than later. Not only because stopping Maleficent was important, but because Elizabeth's safety hung in the balance.

"If you keep looking at the King of Meridas like that, he's going to think Misthaven is about to declare war on his kingdom."

Startling at the unexpected voice, Liam jerked his attention away from the dancing couples to see Elizabeth standing next to him.

"Considering the tariff tax he's trying to impose on us maybe we should," he replied before glancing towards where he had last seen her. "I thought you were talking to Alexandra about wedding details."

"I was, but then I noticed my fiance was standing in the corner brooding—again."

Liam scoffed with all the playful indignation he could muster. "I am not brooding. Why does everyone—" Upon seeing the look on his fiancee's face, the one she had inherited from her own mother that clearly screamed she didn't believe what he was saying, he sighed dramatically. "Fine, I am brooding."

Elizabeth smirked. "You forget I've been looking at your face since we were babies. I know when you're brooding, particularly since you're terrible at hiding it."

"Remind me to get tips from my father on how to do that."

"He's just as horrible at it," she remarked with a playful smirk. "So, what has my handsome fiance brooding in the corner when he should be enjoying himself?"

There it was—one of a hundred openings he'd had all afternoon to fill her in on what was going through his mind, to share the burden of his new found fear with the woman he was planning on spending the rest of his life with. Like all the times before, however, Liam couldn't bring himself to do it. He had contemplated telling her what his father's words at the War Council had made him realise all afternoon, but he couldn't ruin this night for her. Despite all the headaches surrounding its planning, he knew Elizabeth had been looking forward to the ball, especially since it was the first official event they would attend without hiding their relationship.

Eventually, he would have to tell her, particularly since what he was going to suggest to his parents impacted her as much as it did him. He just didn't want to do it tonight.

As he started to open his mouth to give her some excuse—he was tired, he didn't particularly like someone that was there—the playfulness disappeared from Elizabeth's face, and her brown eyes filled with understanding.

"It's Erin, isn't it? You're still worried about her."

He was still worried about his sister, it just wasn't the foremost worry gnawing at him in that moment. Not that he could admit that without revealing the real reason he had been standing in a corner and brooding during the event that was celebrating their engagement. With his jaw clenching and guilt over having to semi-lie to Elizabeth again churning his stomach, Liam nodded.

Moving to stand in front of him, Elizabeth placed a comforting hand on his left shoulder. "I thought you felt better about the situation after talking to Henry," she murmured, her voice low enough so that the few guests and butlers near them didn't hear their conversation.

"I did—I do," Liam corrected with a shake of his head, "But it doesn't mean that worry instantly ceases."

Elizabeth smiled softly. "No, of course not, and I wouldn't expect anything less from you. Worrying about those you love is what makes you who you are, Liam. I'm sure Erin is fine, though—something that isn't nefarious has just delayed her return."

Her comforting words only made the guilt grow stronger. He couldn't help but feel like he was deceiving her by letting her think he had been thinking about Erin when in reality, it was a fear over what could happen to Elizabeth that had driven him to brood in the middle of a ball. She had been beyond supportive over the last few days while he voiced his concerns about his sister and here he was, using that same support as a shield so she didn't discover the real reason behind his melancholy thoughts. Would she still comfort him when he revealed that he had been thinking about postponing their wedding?

"I'll just feel better once I know all my loved ones are safe," he whispered, not even sure if she had heard him above the music. She clearly had, though, if her small nod was any indication.

"They will be," she began, having no way of knowing the double meaning behind his words, "But until then…" With a fluidity and speed that left him momentarily surprised, Elizabeth plucked the half empty goblet of wine from his right hand and deposited it on a passing butler's empty tray. Turning back towards him, she threw him a radiant smile and held out her hand. "How about you keep yourself occupied by twirling me around the dance floor a few more times, Lieutenant Jones?"

Just as Liam took her hand a flash of scarlet in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Turning his head towards the color on instinct, he saw the unmistakable figure of his mother leaving the dance floor with his father right beside her, the pair rapidly making their way to the open doors that lead to the courtyard. It was the first time since the ball had begun that neither he nor his parents were dancing, and he leapt at the opportunity to finally talk with them about what had been bothering him all afternoon.

"Elizabeth, wait."

Even he could hear the desperation in his tone, so when Elizabeth paused in her movement of turning towards the dance floor to look back at him, he wasn't surprised to see her brows knitted in confusion.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." At the look that clearly said she wasn't believing him again, he gave her hand a small squeeze to reassure her. "I promise, it's nothing. I've just been trying to speak with dad all night about using the Jolly Roger if Henry and I go in search of Erin, and this is the first time neither of us have been dancing or otherwise engaged."

It wasn't the reason he needed to speak with his father, but it also wasn't a complete lie at least. He was going to tell his father they were commandeering his ship for their theoretical rescue mission—past history proved Killian Jones was far more amenable to his children taking off with his ship when he had forewarning about it—Liam just hadn't planned on doing it in the same breath as suggesting he postpone his wedding.

Elizabeth contemplated him for a long second, her brown gaze scrutinizing him closely before she nodded in understanding. "Of course. Dad owes me a dance, so I'll find him while you talk to them."

Ignoring the slight pang of guilt that shot through him, Liam raised Elizabeth's hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss to her knuckles, smiling as her ruby engagement ring brushed his cheek.

"I won't be long, darling."

With that Liam quickly moved to intercept his parents, the fact that it would draw too much unwanted attention the only thing that kept him from running the short distance. He had almost reached them when he saw Grumpy making his way towards them, and Liam cursed under his breath. The dwarf always did have the worst timing. Grumpy luckily glanced in his direction, and the aggravated look on Liam's face that he was doing nothing to hide was clearly enough to deter the dwarf from pulling his parent's into a conversation—though he was certain he was going to have to explain to his grandmother why he had been giving the dwarf a mean look at some point.

He reached his parents just as they were stepping from the marble floor of the ballroom to the courtyard's stone pathway.

"Mom, Dad?"

His parents half turned towards him at the same time, his mother's right arm never disconnecting from where it rested in the crook of his father's left one.

"Liam," Emma greeted warmly, a wide smile on her beautiful face. "Are you having a good time?"

Liam nodded, knowing from thousands of childhood experiences that if he verbally said he was, his mother would pick up on the half-lie with her superpower.

"I hope you're spending most of the night dancing with Elizabeth and not bored to death talking politics and kingdom law with the other guests," his father added with a deep chuckle. "I know inviting them was required, but tonight is about you and Elizabeth."

"No, I am. She's dancing with Uncle Will right now. I just—" Forcing himself to take a deep breath and calm his racing heart, he continued, "I wanted to speak with you both about something… in private."

He didn't miss the look that passed between his parents. He'd seen them share that same look countless times in his twenty-seven years. The one where they immediately fell into the same wavelength, a whole conversation silently passing between them with just one glance—the fact that he was requesting to speak to them privately hadn't went unnoticed by his parents.

"Of course, lad."

The scrape of boots and the sharp click of heels along the stone pathway was the only sound that fell between them as they made their way out to the courtyard. When they reached the stone benches that sat in the middle of the courtyard—far enough away from prying ears but still close enough to faintly hear the music playing inside the ballroom—his parents stopped and turned towards him, twin expressions of confusion on both their faces.

"Is everything okay?" Emma asked, cutting right to the chase. His mother had never been one for drawn out pleasantries when she knew something was wrong.

"Generally speaking, yes," Liam began, "But there has been something weighing on my mind all afternoon that I wanted to discuss with you." At his parent's patient nods, he took a deep breath.

"I think we should postpone the wedding."

His parents stared at him in complete and utter shock, the Savior's mouth falling open as her husband's eyebrows shot nearly to his graying hairline. If they weren't outside with the gentle noise of crickets surrounding them, Liam was certain he would have been able to hear a pin drop in the seconds following his statement.

"Wha—Liam, are you getting cold feet?" his mother asked at the same time his father said, "This is about the scale of the wedding, isn't it?"

"I'm not getting cold feet, and this has nothing to do with the size of the wedding," he assured them quickly. Perhaps taking a page from his mother's book and jumping right to the point hadn't been the best course of action. "At the War Council today, when Aunt Belle was talking about the possibility of there still being an Avalonian artifact that we could use to get through Avalon's barrier spell, she said she would wait until after the wedding to go back to Camelot and search for one. I don't think she should. Aunt Belle should head back to Camelot first thing in the morning."

Emma gave her son a bewildered look. "What does Belle going before or after the wedding have to do with you wanting to postpone it?"

"Because Aunt Belle, rightfully, doesn't want to miss her daughter and godson's wedding. Finding Avalon and learning how to defeat Maleficent, or even how Erin and I are suppose to, is more important than my wedding."

"It absolutely is not," Killian replied, the Captain's tone to his voice causing Liam's shoulders to instinctively straighten. Taking a deep breath, the older Jones continued in a gentler tone, "Defeating Maleficent is important, yes, but not more so than your or your sister's happiness, lad."

His mother nodded. "He's right, Liam. You can't let Maleficent, or the threat of her, dictate your life and when you do something. If you do, you give into fear and she wins without ever throwing a blow."

Shaking his head, Liam looked down at the cobblestones beneath his feet. What his parents was saying made sense, even echoed the sentiment his grandmother had had the last six months about embracing the quiet moments, but he still thought this was the best course of action. It was the only course of action to protect Elizabeth, and nothing else mattered. Not what the kingdom's populace would think, his own parent's confusion, or the justifiable anger Elizabeth would feel when he told her. All that mattered to Liam was her safety.

"I can't move forward with the wedding, not with the threat of Maleficent lurking in the shadows," he murmured. Neither of his parents replied at first, and he didn't have to be looking at them to know they were having another silent conversation between them. After a few seconds he heard the distinct sound of his mother's heels on the cobblestone floor as she moved, and then the skirt of her scarlet dress came into his line of sight. There was only the briefest of pauses from the woman who had brought him into the world before her hands came up to cradle the sides of his bowed head.

"Liam, look at me."

Raising his head at the gentle command, he found his mother softly smiling at him, her emerald gaze filled with understanding.

"Seizing a quiet moment amid chaos, especially when you don't know when that chaos will strike, is frightening," she whispered. "Believe me, kid, I know. Do you know how fearful I was that Rumple would somehow succeed in turning me dark in the weeks leading up to mine and your father's wedding? I was terrified of it, but in the end, we refused to let that threat deter us from capturing one of the happiest moments of our lives."

Moving to stand just behind his wife's right shoulder, Killian gave his son his own understanding smile. "Your mother is right, lad."

Liam sighed heavily, the gentle movement of his mother's thumbs along his scruff covered jaw the only thing that kept him from pacing the length of the courtyard. "I get what you both are saying, I do," he assured them, his eyes moving between each of them. "But waiting two and a half weeks for Aunt Belle to start working on our new plan of attack doesn't make sense, and prolongs the search for answers that we could get sooner if she goes now versus later."

His mother's ponytail swayed as she shook her head vehemently. "We've been searching for at least the answer on how you and Erin are suppose to defeat her for twenty-seven years, Liam. Waiting another eighteen days isn't going to change anything."

"There is also no guarantee whenor if Belle will find an Avalonian artifact. It could take months, perhaps even years. Are you willing to wait that long to start your life with Elizabeth?"

Liam immediately shook his head at his father's question. He hadn't thought of that when he'd been thinking it was ludicrous to wait until after the wedding to start their plan of attack. Postponing things for a few weeks or months, maybe, but years was out of the question. He didn't want to wait that long to become Elizabeth's husband, that he knew for certain.

"What if we moved it up and stripped it down to the basics—just us and family, no huge event where every citizen within the next three realms knows about it? At least until after we deal with Maleficent. Grandma and Grandpa had two weddings."

"They did, and if that's what you and Elizabeth wanted we'd of course support it," Emma began, her hands falling to his shoulders, "But the two of you chose April 5 for a reason, yeah?"

Liam nodded. "It's the anniversary of when we first said I love you to each other."

His mother smiled. "Then keep it. Don't let the Dark Fairy alter when you want to commit to the love of your life, kid. You only get to do it the first time once, and it should be on a day that means something to you, not one you randomly pick so research can start early."

"This isn't about us finding the means to defeat Maleficent quicker, is it, lad?"

Liam's eyes moved from his mother to his father, the younger Jones taking in his father's contemplative gaze and the slight tilt of his head. He knew that look, had inherited it even—Killian Jones was reading him like an open book.

"At least, it's not the entire reason for you suggesting the postponement of your wedding."

"No, it's not," he agreed, a shuddering breath escaping him with the admission. "You said something during the War Council that made me realise a scenario that I've been kicking myself for not thinking of before today."

He watched his mother frown from the corner of his eye. "What is it?"

Swallowing, Liam looked between his parents and whispered, "Maleficent killed Matthew to hurt Erin. It wasn't her intention that day, but she didn't turn the opportunity down when it was presented to her. You said Maleficent knows Erin and I will be vulnerable soon, and I know you were talking about the protection spell, Dad, but my mind immediately went to the wedding. It's a huge affair, one Maleficent could easily find out about if she hasn't already…"

Understanding dawned on his parents' faces once again as he trailed off, suddenly unable to say the words that had been running through his head all afternoon.

"You're afraid she'll use the wedding to go after Elizabeth to get to you," Emma finished, her hands sliding from Liam's shoulders to rest by her sides.

He nodded. "Her wrath has been centered on Erin for most of our lives because of that delusional 'a daughter for a daughter' belief she has, but she's targeted me before."

"She has," Killian conceded, the older Jones' jaw ticking as he no doubt remembered Maleficent being the reason Liam had been poisoned with Dreamshade when he was four. "Why do you think she'll use your wedding to attack Elizabeth?"

"Because hurting the woman I love on the day I'm to wed her would have the most crippling impact."

Neither of his parents could deny that statement. Maleficent was a revenge driven woman who thrived off what little pain she could cause them, and if she could do it around a major event for added impact, the Black Fairy would.

"Even if she were to do that," Emma began, "There are safety measures in place. The wedding is taking place here and the entire kingdom is protected by mine and Regina's barrier spell."

Smiling sadly, Liam replied, "She's found a way around that once before, Mom, and I honestly wouldn't put it past her to do it again. I trust your magic, I do—Gods know it has saved me countless times—but nothing short of seeing Maleficent's ashes is going to give me true peace of mind on my wedding day at this point."

There was the briefest flicker of something in his mother's eyes at his words, an emotion that Liam thought might have been fear, yet it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. Before he could contemplate what he had seen his father began to speak.

"That's still letting Maleficent dictate your life, lad. I don't deny that your wedding puts a target on both of your backs for an attack from her, but it doesn't have to be a special occasion for her to do that. Matthew died protecting your sister and Hope on a seemingly normal, winter's day. Again, there is no guarantee of when we will defeat her—are you willing to not fully live your life with the woman you love because the Dark Fairy could attack her at any time? Pausing the future plans you and Elizabeth are making isn't going to protect her more, Liam. It's only going to leave you with regrets in the end."

Swallowing against the fear that was still clawing at his throat, Liam nodded. Logically he knew his father was right. The most devastating day in his sister's life had begun like any other—who's to say that Maleficent wouldn't pick another mundane day to hurt Elizabeth over their wedding day? Misthaven was protected by the barrier spell, and on the off chance the Dark Fairy found another way through it, he knew his family would use every available resource and talent they had to protect his fiancee. There were four very proficient magic users living in the castle, and his Aunt Elsa would be there as well. Even Merlin, the most powerful sorcerer in the realms, had been invited to the wedding. Between all that magic and the swords of the rest of his family members, both direct and indirect, the chapel would be the most heavily fortified room in the kingdom.

So why couldn't he let go of the fear that something would happen to Elizabeth?

"Killian? Why don't you go back inside and make sure Hope isn't getting into any trouble. I'm sure she'd be delighted to have a dance with her grandfather."

Pulled from his internal musing, Liam refocused his attention to see that his mother was giving his father a knowing look over her right shoulder. What was going on? Why would his mom be sending his dad inside right now? Seeming to understand his wife's cryptic words and what she was silently communicating with her look, Killian nodded and moved to leave, but not before stopping and enveloping his son in a hug.

"Don't do anything rash, lad," Liam felt his father murmur into his ear. "Take the night to think about everything your mother and I have said, and in the morning if it's what you both want, we'll support the decision and start taking steps to postpone or move the wedding up."

Without waiting for a response, either verbal or physical, the former pirate headed back to the lively ballroom with the confident walk of a man who knew his wife would take care of things. More than a little perplexed over the turn of events, Liam stared at his father's retreating form for a long moment before turning his attention back to his mother.

"What was that about?"

Smiling softly, Emma inclined her head towards one of the stone benches. "Come sit with me."

Well he'd certainly heard that tone before. It wasn't the one his mother had used when he'd gotten into trouble as a young boy, or even the warning one when he had been on the verge of doing something she didn't like. No, it was the tone that foreshadowed an open and serious conversation between mother and son, the kind where wisdom was given and discipline wasn't.

"I asked your father to go inside partly because I knew no matter what sound advice he gave you, you're in your head too much right now to really listen to it," she began once they were seated side by side on one of the benches. "He knew it too, of course."

Liam frowned at his mother's words. "No, I was listening, it's just—"

"You can't let go of the fear that something will happen to her."

Taken aback by the very words he had been thinking of only moments ago said aloud, and by someone else other than himself, Liam stared at his mother.

"How did you know?"

"Because I'm your mother," she replied with a small shrug. "And… well, it's what you do, Liam. You're a control freak. You hate not having control of a situation, even where there's absolutely nothing about it you can control, such as what someone else is going to do."

Liam's shoulders squared defenselessly. "I'm not a—"

Before he could even finish his sentence, his mother was giving him her patented 'Really?' look.

"Kid, you are. It's not a bad thing, or at least normally it isn't. You like order and never leaving anything up to chance, which is one of the many things that make you a great leader. But in an instance like this, when you can't control or properly determine when something is going to happen, you worry about the 'what ifs' until it consumes you. Which—and correct me if I'm wrong—is exactly what's been happening since the War Council."

Sighing, Liam looked away from his mother's all-too-knowing gaze and turned his face towards the night sky. He couldn't correct her because that was what had happened. From the moment his father's statement made him realise Maleficent could use his wedding as an opportunity to do quality damage to him, it was all he had thought about. Liam also had to reluctantly agree with everything else she had said.

"No, you're right," he admitted quietly as his eyes traced the cygnus constellation above his head.

"Of course I am."

Chuckling at her response, Liam moved his gaze back to his mother to find her smiling fondly at him. "How did you know that was what was going on?"

"Mother's instinct. That, and again, you weren't really processing what your father was saying. He's verbose, but normally his pirate-y heart to heart talks calm you down. This time you just became more agitated the longer he, and I, gave you advice."

She had him there. The entire reason he hadn't went straight to his grandmother with his proposed idea was because he knew his parents would make sense of his jumbled emotions. Yet even with their sound advice the only option he could still see was to postpone the wedding.

"Everything you and Dad said makes sense, it's just…"

"Nothing we say is calming that fear."

"Yeah." Using his thumb to twist the ring that had once belonged to his father, he whispered, "I can't lose her, Mom."

Reaching over to clasp his left hand with her right one, Emma gave it a comforting squeeze. "You won't."

Liam shook his head before she had even finished. "You can't say that for certain. Erin never thought she'd lose Matthew and look what happened."

Having turned his attention to the ring he was still twisting after he spoke, Liam didn't notice the way his mother flinched at his words or the shadow that flickered across her eyes.

"No, she didn't, but she also never let the threat of Maleficent stop her from having what little time she did with him. The unfortunate fact is that as mine and your father's son, you will always have to worry about someone going after the ones you love because you and your sister have had a target painted on your backs since the day you were born. Whether you marry Elizabeth in two days, two weeks, or a year from now, that worry will still be there."

Looking back at her, Liam replied solemnly, "Then one has to ask themselves if she's really safe being with me."

He expected his mother to scoff at the remark, or launch into a rebuttal of Prince Charming proportions about how he was a fool for even thinking like that, but instead the Savior simply tilted her head and fixed him with a knowing look.

"I think you and I both know what her answer to that would be."

He did. One of the things he loved about Elizabeth was that she didn't try to appease him when he uttered dramatic statements or fell into a brooding mood, much like his mother had just done. No, Elizabeth would tell him not only was he being a fool, but that she had been well aware of the dangers that came with being a part of his life before they were ever a couple.

Liam inhaled sharply at the internal thought, and like a torch flaring in a dark cave, he realised the absolute folly that had been him trying to postpone their wedding under those circumstances. She'd been a witness to the horrors countless villains had tried to inflict on his family all her life, and yet Elizabeth hadn't paused for a second when engaging in a relationship with him or accepting his marriage proposal. The Dark Fairy could use their wedding as an opportunity to attack her—there was no question about that—but it wouldn't matter to Elizabeth. After all, hadn't they been planning that very wedding while under the presumption Maleficent could retaliate any day now that she was fully healed? There was something about that realization coupled with what his parents had said earlier that eased his fear. It was still there, clawing at the very depths of his being, but for the first time since the War Council, he felt like it wasn't choking him.

"I've been such a bloody fool."

His mother chuckled. "Your fears aren't without merit, kid. In your deep-seated need to protect the woman you love, you just lost sight of the fact that Elizabeth came into this relationship with open eyes when it came to the danger that surrounds us."

"And you knew I had done that," Liam replied, a playful accustation to his tone.

"That would be the other reason I asked your father to go inside, yes." Squeezing his hand again, she smiled warmly. "You just needed a quiet moment to remind yourself of it."

Returning her smile with a grateful one of his own, Liam said, "Yeah. Thanks, Mom."

"Anytime, kid. So… will we be altering your wedding plans?"

"I won't lie and say I'm still not worried about Maleficent using the timing to hurt Elizabeth, but… no, I don't see a reason for us to alter when we're getting married." Pausing as another thought struck him, Liam added, "Can we not tell Grandma I was contemplating that, though? I'd rather not be subjected to that pep talk amidst all the other wedding stuff."

Emma pursed her lips in contemplation. "Only if you tell Elizabeth. You may not be dead set on it anymore but she's your fiance, and this is something you shouldn't try to hide from her."

"Deal."

As his mother moved to stand, the good form his father had raised him with had Liam scrambling up from his seated position to offer her his arm. Laughing, but knowing better than to try to wave her son off, Emma linked their arms as they began heading back to the ballroom.

"You get it from me, you know."

"What?"

"The worrying about things you can't control."

Bringing them to a stop a few feet from the double doors, Liam looked at his mother in surprise. "I do?"

Emma hummed knowingly as her gaze found his. "I don't do it with things pertaining to myself, but I definitely do with those I love. Case in point—long ago, I was afraid that by starting a relationship with your father, it would cost him his life. Everyone else I had ever been with was gone, so I thought in order to protect him the best course of action was to push him away. What your father taught me was that I couldn't control when or how something happened to him, and that in trying to do so, I was robbing both of us of all the quiet moments that would happen."

"You don't do it anymore though," he pointed out.

"Don't I?" his mother responded with a raised eyebrow. "You were too young to remember, but after Ursula poisoned you with Dreamshade I refused to let you out of my sight for months. I couldn't control the fact that you might be kidnapped again, so I kept you either in my arms or within reach of me at all times."

He didn't remember that, and in fact had never been able to recall anything from when Ursula kidnapped him and Erin and took them to Neverland. "How did you stop worrying that it would happen?"

"It didn't happen overnight, and there are still times even to this day when it hits me, but eventually through self analysis and with your father's help, I realised I couldn't let my fear of someone kidnapping you take over our lives. If I did, Maleficent won, and I refused to give her that satisfaction."

As they started moving again, Liam couldn't help but admire his mother. He had obviously never known the closed-off woman that left his father on top of a beanstalk, but he could imagine how differently that younger version of his mother would have handled this situation if the walls his sister had procured from her were any indication. Emma Jones had come a long way since Henry found her and brought her to Storybrooke all those years ago.

Entering the ballroom to the sound of another lively waltz being played, Liam instantly spotted his father's unmistakable figure standing off the the side of the dance floor. He was deep in conversation with his grandfather and Uncle Will, and the sight of his uncle reminded him of the reason he had given Elizabeth for needing to talk with his parents.

"Just so I didn't outright lie to Elizabeth earlier, if Erin isn't back by the time the ball ends, Henry and I are taking the Jolly Roger to look for her. Can you let Dad know?"

Emma gave her son a perplexed look. "He already knows."

"How?" Liam asked with a frown. "I know Henry hadn't had time to tell him yet, what with everyone getting ready for tonight and all."

"Liam, your father is a perceptive man. He knew you'd been doing that whole 'worrying about something you can't control' over your sister for days, and despite all the 'old' jokes we throw at him, his hearing is freakishly amazing. He had one ear on your and Henry's conversation the entire time."

Liam gaped at his mother. "You know, it's a wonder Elizabeth and I were ever able to keep our relationship a secret."

"Well, considering the only person who didn't know about it was your sister, I'd say you really weren't able to."

Ignoring the playful jab, Liam inquired, "So I take it Dad ordered that the ship be ready for us?"

As his mother opened her mouth to reply something behind him caught her eye, causing the Savior to smile.

"He did, but I don't think it's going to be necessary for you and Henry to go look for Erin, kid."

Liam sighed. "Mom, I know we just had this long talk about not letting my worry control my life, but she's—"

"Hey, little brother."

Heart thumping rapidly against his chest, Liam spun in place to see none other than Erin standing behind him, her figure covered in a jade colored dress and looking for all the world like she hadn't been late to the ball celebrating his upcoming wedding. Biting back the retort that her words always prompted from him, Liam pulled her into a bone-crushing hug.

"By the Gods, you're okay!"

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" came her muffled response against his uniform jacket. Breaking their hug, Liam stepped back to fix his sister with an incredulous look.

"You were suppose to be home no later than two days ago!"

Erin slowly nodded. "Right, but it took us longer to infiltrate the castle then we thought it would—damn wizard had increased the number of guards. Not to mention the bloody storm that took us by surprise when we were leaving Narnia."

Those were all sound excuses, and spoke to how Elizabeth had assured him his sister was probably detained due to non-nefarious reasons, but Liam wasn't about to let her off the hook that easily. Crossing his arms and schooling his features into what he knew was a perfect match for his father's disgruntled look, he asked, "And you didn't think to send word that you were being held up?"

Clearly having not expected that reaction from him, Erin blinked in surprise. "I—what? Since when have I ever done that when on a retrieval? Besides, I was in the ass end of Narnia where there's both a lack of writing implements and birds. We used the only one we had to send word that we had arrived." Looking to their mother she added, "What's with him?"

"Your brother was just worried about you," Emma replied knowingly as she moved around Liam to give her daughter a hug.

"Why would you be—"

Knowing his sister better than he knew himself, Liam saw the exact moment she realized what their mother meant. Apparently his tendency to worry about things he couldn't control was well known within their family.

Before any of them could say another word a happy shout of, "Mama!" could be heard over the music, and in the blink of an eye his niece was barreling into Erin's left side with all the force her six-year-old body could muster. Barely steadying herself before the onslaught, his sister laughed as she reached down to pick up her daughter.

"Hello, lady bug."

Her small arms wrapping around her mother's neck, Hope smiled brilliantly. "You're home!"

"Aye, that I am."

"Did you get the thing away from the bad man?"

Nodding, Erin bumped her nose affectionately against Hope's. "I did. He won't be able to hurt anyone else."

"Good. Will you dance with me? Bae and Jefferson are okay at it, but they aren't as good as you."

Chuckling at her daughter's bluntness, Erin nodded. "I would love to." Movement at Hope's side as she sat on her mother's hip caught Liam's attention, and he glanced down to see the fingers of his sister's right hand quickly moving in the silent language their father had taught them.

We'll talk after the ball, okay?

Meeting Erin's gaze, Liam nodded. He wasn't really angry with his sister, but he wouldn't back down from the fact that he had been concerned over her lack of communication when Maleficent was once again a credible threat.

"I'm glad your home safe, Em."

"It's good to be home," Erin replied as she headed towards the dance floor with Hope still in her arms, leaving Liam alone with their mother once again.

"I suppose that's a lesson in not letting a worry become so great that I make a rash decision," he murmured, though he was more than a little surprised to see his mother's casual shrug at the remark.

"Who's to say I wouldn't have been on the ship with you and Henry?" Leaning up onto her tiptoes, she placed an affectionate kiss to his cheek. "Don't forget our deal, kid."

With a thankful smile pulling at his lips, Liam watched his mother move to where his father, grandfather, and uncle were still standing before going in search of his fiance. Finding Elizabeth happily chatting with Queen Guinevere and her step-mother less than five minutes later, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back flush to his front. It wasn't the most proper way for them to stand as a couple, particularly in such a formal setting, but society rules were made to be broken and he was the son of a pirate.

Resting her hands atop his own that lay against her stomach, Elizabeth turned her head towards him.

"Everything okay?"

Thinking of his sister, travel weary but safe within the walls of their home and the fact that he had a woman in his arms who was willing to make a life with him despite all the danger surrounding him, Liam nodded as he leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Elizabeth's exposed shoulder.

"Yeah, everything's perfect."