I deserve to be horse-whipped because of how long this chapter took. I am truly sorry. Real life has been incredibly busy, but I'm hoping everything will be resolved soon and I'll be able to give this fic the attention it deserves.

I also must apologize to the lovely person who asked me to tag her in future chapters. Tumblr ate your message and I didn't write down your username. So, if you see this chapter post, please send me another message and I'll take a screenshot this time to make sure I don't lose it again.

Thanks to all of you for sticking with me. And thanks to optomisticgirl for her beta services!

Now, on with the story…

His baby is in his arms. At last. It's been years since he's held her, so many desolate years dreaming of this moment and, still, nothing could have prepared him for the intensity of emotion that rains down. Her tears soak his shirt and he realizes he's crying, too, his relief at having her awake releasing in a torrent of overwhelming emotions that seep from his eyes. It's joy and sorrow and mixed together, rampant waves of them colliding in his lungs. Her arms are encircling his waist, her cheek nestled into his shoulder in a manner reminiscent to when she was a child and he cups the back of her head protectively, just like he did when she was little.

But she's not little anymore. She's a full-grown woman – even more so than she'd been the last time he saw her.

He's missed so much.

But she's alive. And safe. And that's all that matters. She's breathing a deep sigh of contentment and he closes his eyes as he rocks her back and forth.

"You still smell like nutmeg," she mumbles into his neck. "Every time I smell it, I think of you."

"And you smell like the gardens on a spring day," he replies, hearing the smile in his voice.

She chuckles and leans back to look at him. "You used to say that was because of the mud that was always caked on my dresses."

Her eyes are twinkling with the same amusement he used to see there when she was ten and he can't stop himself from booping his finger to her nose. "It was true and you know it."

A blinding smile spreads across her face before she's hugging him tight again.

"But I don't understand… How are you here? Is it over? Has Regina been defeated? Are we on our way home? Is mom – "

"No. No, we're not on our way home. Regina is still… We didn't defeat her yet. We…"

"Then how did we get away?"

"We, uh… had some help. Merlin has – "

"Merlin? The wizard?"

"Yes, as it turns out, he's been alive all these years. Held captive by Regina."

He sees more questions forming on her tongue but he shakes his head. "Let's save it for now. We have so much to catch up on. And there are a lot of people who are very eager to see that you're okay. Ruby made your favorite dish for dinner in the hope you'd awake. You must be starving."

"I am," she agrees, even though her brow wrinkles at his evasiveness.

"Well, then, why don't we leave you to get dressed and we'll meet you in the galley in a bit."

She nods and he kisses her on the forehead, catching Killian's tense stance over the top of her head. His hand is anchored in his belt, his eyes narrowed and David's stomach knots with nerves. Whatever reprieve he has before revealing all he knows will be short. Now that Emma is awake, Killian is going to insist on answers. Still, when Emma turns his away, the pirate wipes his face of the suspicious look, and David can't help but be grateful for that. He's not sure if he's hiding his annoyance for Emma's sake or his own, but there's no denying the protective way he embraces her or the tenderness with which he kisses her cheek before he follows David out.

As they make their way to the galley, Killian's footsteps echo behind him, each one ringing ominously in his head like a clock ticking off the seconds before he has to face the hangman's noose. A few steps from the galley door, he turns and faces him.

"I'll tell you everything. Both of you. But, I'd appreciate it if we could at least wait until after dinner. I'd like to enjoy some time with my daughter before we… get into the rest of it."

David's watches the man's jaw clench and unclench several times while he considers that. He's obviously holding onto his temper by a thread and it's striking to David just how much the mild-mannered lieutenant has changed in the past few years. Gone is the easy-going sailor, gone is the optimistic and proper boy he knew so long ago. Now replaced with a hardened and intense man who shows no awe at standing before a king.

"We'll wait until Grace goes to bed," he concedes with clipped words. Then as though he's just remembered himself, he gives a stiff nod and goes to pass him to the galley.

"We were only trying to protect her. We were trying to protect both of you."

Killian's hand stops on the door handle and he draws a long breath, his shoulders slumping. When he speaks again his voice has softened. "I know, but that doesn't make it right." He turns back, his eyes showing the barest flash of anger. "We were in constant danger and we never knew it."

Surprised by the pirate's insight, David's brow raises but he doesn't bother denying it, instead saying simply, "You were guarded more closely than you realize."

"Which is why you told Liam."

"Yes."

Pain flicks into Killian's eyes before he drops his head, taking several deep breaths. When he lifts his eyes again, there's resignation and, surprisingly, a touch of understanding in them as he nods in the direction of his cabin. "As far as I can tell, she knows nothing of the prophecy," he relays softly. "I haven't told her anything either – not that I know much about it anyway."

"But you know there is one," David says and Killian nods. "How long have you known?"

"Since the day I watched your wife take a bite of that apple."

"You were there? You saw what happened?"

"I did."

"Graham said – "

"Let's save it for now," Killian echoes his own words back to him. "It's a tale I'd rather tell only once."

It's difficult to say the least, not to press Killian for more right then. But he bites back the questions nearly burning his tongue as he watches the man enter the galley. He stays where he is for a few more seconds to give himself time to find some calm, letting Killian announce the joyous news of Emma's recovery. Then, with a sigh, he enters the galley and directly crosses the room to join Merlin. He makes a quick request of the wizard and Merlin nods his agreement before retreating through the door. A moment later, a goblet of wine appears under his nose and he looks up to see Ruby standing before him. She doesn't say anything but by the look on her face he knows she understands the source of his worry and she gives his arm a bracing squeeze of support before she turns back to the stove.

It's not long after when Emma enters and the worry plaguing him is temporarily overrun by the infectious enthusiasm of the group. Laughter rings out, hugs are exchanged and even a few tears are shed. It's a testament to the human spirit that even in the darkest of times, people find something to celebrate. And their narrow escape from the Evil Queen certainly ranks as a victory worthy of celebration.

After some debate, David relents to Killian's insistence that David should sit at the head of the table during dinner. Emma sits to his left with Killian on the other side of her, followed by Dopey and Ruby. Grace is to his right with her parents and Merlin sits at the far end, directly across from him.

Grace is a welcome distraction during the meal. She's full of questions and giggles and David finds himself immensely grateful for her presence. It's been a long time since he's allowed himself to truly relax, always focused on the tasks to come, and now, even with the end drawing near and so much at stake, he finds it remarkable that it's a child who reminds him of what exactly it is they're fighting for. It's more than just getting his wife and their thrones back. They're fighting for the future of their kingdom and what better reminder of that is there than a child with her whole future ahead.

Still, the reprieve is a short one. Dinner is over too quickly and the jovial atmosphere slowly begins to dissipate. Grace begs to stay up for a while longer and thankfully her parents agree even though it's the middle of the night, but with each yawn he can see Killian's shoulders getting more stiff.

Emma notices, too. In fact, everyone does. And the moment the little girl's eyes start to droop, the entire room goes quiet, watching as her head lands on her father's shoulder.

Killian shoots Jeff a nod and the man carefully scoops his daughter up, making soothing noises as he carries her from the room.

Somehow, the silence gets even more acute as the door closes behind them, a taut moment when everyone's eyes flitter back and forth between each other. It's Ruby who breaks the tension, standing to gather the plates, and Patricia rises to help her. While they tend to that, Dopey fetches a large bottle of rum and new glasses for everyone. He fills and dispenses them with measured movements, leaving the bottle in the middle of the table and rounding back to his seat. He's just sat down when Jefferson re-enters, taking his spot next to Patricia. Emma leans back in her chair, her confusion and worry obvious with the way her eyes flick between Killian and himself.

Slowly, he meets her eyes.

"We need to talk, Emma," he begins. "There are things I need to tell you. Things that your mother and I…" he trails off, searching for the right words and drops his eyes to the table. "I want you to understand, we were trying to protect you. We wanted you to have a normal life but… I realize now that we should have told you before."

"Told me what?" she asks, her voice laced with nerves.

He raises his eyes back to hers. "The day we defeated Regina the first time… When we got back to our room that night there was a scroll sitting in the middle of our bed." He pulls the scroll he'd asked Merlin to retrieve earlier from his pocket, laying it on the table in front of him. Then, fingering idly at the scroll, he tells her. He tells her about the shock and despair they'd gone through when they read it. He tells her about the many times they considered revealing the truth to her and how it had weighed on them both every day since.

Mid-way through the story, he sees her hand blindly seek Killian's and the way he squeezes hers in reassurance. Her eyes dart to the scroll several times while he speaks but she doesn't ask the thing he knows she wants to. She waits patiently for him to finish, her features becoming more and more apprehensive as she listens.

There's a moment of silence when he stops before she speaks. "What does it say?" she asks in a strong voice, nodding to the scroll.

Rather than answer, he pushes it to her.

It takes her a minute, her eyes focused on the parchment with both nerves and fear. Then with shaky hands, she disentangles her fingers from Killian's and picks up the scroll. Once it's in her hands, she pauses, looking at each of the occupants of the table in turn. She starts with Merlin who holds her gaze steadily, then to both Dopey and Ruby who avert their own with a guilty slump of shoulders. Next, she looks to Jeff and Patricia whose expressions are filled with apprehension and concern to match her own and even though David doesn't know them very well, it's clear to him that Emma has grown attached to the couple and they to her. There's a trust there between them that is nearly tangible, and David is grateful for it. He can't see her expression when she finally looks to Killian but whatever it is, it has the pirate clenching his jaw and lifting his hand to her cheek in comfort.

"Go on, love," he whispers in encouragement. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together."

She nods to him and unfurls the scroll, speaking the words slowly but clearly.

"'The tides have changed today, it's true, and peace will once again renew. And with it you'll forget your fears, as it will reign for many years. But tides are fickle as the sea, they'll change again, it's destiny." She clears her throat and sits up straighter, "So heed my words, you must prepare for darkness is still in the air. She will return, make no mistake and happiness she will forsake,'" she pauses to draw a shaky breath. "'And when this darkness does arise, you must decipher truth from lies. Many will fall and one betray… and… and one will sleep both night and day.'"

She stops there, raising her eyes to meet his. "You knew? All those years, you knew mom would…?"

"I had hoped it would be me," he replies roughly. "I wanted it so badly to be me but…" his voice breaks, "Well… it didn't work out the way I wanted it to."

Her eyes are full of sympathy and she reaches over to briefly squeeze his hand. The action causes a lump to form in the back of his throat and he grips her hand in return as he stares into those eyes… her mother's eyes…

Drawing a deep breath, she looks back to the parchment, "'But even in the blackest night, do not abandon hope and light. For there is one who'll wield the power to save us in this darkest hour: A… A princess born of love that's true – so long as she can find it, too.'"

Her eyes fly to Killian, who has obviously already seen the line, his eyes wide with realization. A look of pure astonishment crosses his features and something about it has David's brow furrowing. There's more to that look than the comprehension that what they have is true… something deeper that David can't quite interpret; an emotion so strong that David averts his eyes to give them a moment.

He keeps his eyes averted until the next line is read, only now it's Killian's reading, his voice low and gravelly, "'Together they will light the dark. She'll be the flame, he'll be the spark. For it's written in the stars above that magic comes to her through love.'" He pauses on a quick inhale, his voice strengthening on the last lines. "'So seek the man who holds her heart and make sure that they never part; and when the lass turns twenty-eight, the Evil Queen will meet her fate.'"

The silence following is heavy but not as uncomfortable as David would have presumed. The Jolly creaks loudly on the waves and Emma gently lays the scroll on the table so that she can take Killian's hand back in hers. They don't look at each other, they don't look at anyone, their eyes focused on the parchment while they gather their thoughts.

It's Killian who speaks first. "This is why you kept the apple."

It's not a question but David answers anyway, "Yes."

Killian's eyes raise to meet his for a long moment before flicking to Jefferson. Something passes between the two men, some unspoken sorrow they share that David longs to understand. In fact, it's on the tip of his tongue to ask the question but he gulps it down when Killian goes on.

"It was right there – sitting between your thrones for all those years – and no one knew it."

David swallows hard. "Snow and I discussed it many times. We… We had hoped not to leave the choice to Regina. We – "

"Well, you succeeded in that," Killian interrupts. "Regina was furious when your wife took that bite. She was about to force her to identify me. She was going to take her heart and…" he takes a long breath and squeezes his eyes shut. "And your wife chose to…"

The scraping of his chair against the wooden floor is shrill when he pushes up from his seat – a whip of untamed fury that has everyone sitting straighter.

Everyone except Emma who continues to stare at the scroll with no reaction whatsoever.

"She sacrificed herself for me. And so did Liam. He pretended to be me. He stood there and let Regina crush his heart so that this bloody prophecy could be fulfilled!"

David holds his breath, trying to think of something to say. He hadn't known that Liam sacrificed himself. He hadn't known why Regina believed Killian to be dead. But now it makes perfect sense. In the end the only thing that comes to mind is, "I'm sorry."

Surprisingly, the words diffuse a bit of the tension in Killian's shoulders, his eyes going back to the scroll. "'Many will fall,'" he quotes with a shake of his head. "Well, they certainly got that bit right. And now we're to wait around for someone to betray?"

"After what Graham did, I don't think that's an issue anymore," David replies.

The flash is back in Killian's eyes, "Yes, Regina said the same, but Graham never betrayed anyone."

The defensive tone almost brings David to his feet, "How can you say that when he – ?"

"He didn't have a choice! Regina had his heart! She took it that same day. And even after she did, he managed to keep my survival a secret!"

Killian's words send a chill down David's spine. If it wasn't Graham then…

"It was me," Jefferson says, drawing everyone's attention. "I helped those black knights board the Jolly Roger. I – "

But Killian is shaking his head. "I don't think so, mate," he tells his friend. "You didn't have a choice either. They threatened your daughter."

"But it was still a choice," Jeff insists. "It wasn't like Graham where his actions were controlled – "

"Jeff," Killian stops him with a look. "No parent would ever have a choice in that situation. You didn't want to do it."

Jeff doesn't look convinced.

"Killian's right," Merlin puts in. "A betrayal can't be coerced. It has to be made of free will. And with your daughter in danger, you didn't have that."

"Then, someone is still going to betray us?" David asks.

"Possibly," Merlin replies.

"What do you mean 'possibly'?" David demands.

"I mean there's a possibility that it already happened without your knowledge," Merlin replies. "For example, do you know how Regina and her knights managed to get into the castle the night of the ball? It could be that someone let them in. And, if so, that could have been the betrayal. How did Regina find out you were in Camelot? Or how did the black knights find out Jefferson was the Hatter? It could be one of a dozen things that have already happened."

"It doesn't matter," Emma speaks for the first time, her voice flat as she rises to her feet. "None of it matters. I can't defeat her. She's stronger than me… She…" She lifts her eyes to his. "I'm so sorry," she chokes out and he immediately reaches for her, but she's too fast, turning on her heel and running from the room.

K&EK&EK&E

Emma doesn't know where she's going. She only knows she's strangling and the walls of the galley had felt like they were closing in on her. Stumbling up the first ladder she comes to, she lands on her hands and knees on deck, the planks slick with mist under her fingers. She gulps in air, quickly glancing around for a place she can take a few minutes alone to think. There's a thick fog hovering around her, the grey haze so dense that she can barely make out the helm. Panic rises up, the feeling of being closed in returning with force.

It all rests on her. The fate of her friends, the fate of her family, the fate of the whole bloody kingdom. It's on her shoulders and her shoulders alone and she's not strong enough. She couldn't even save Graham. The Evil Queen's magic was too powerful, and she'd beaten her with pathetically little effort. And now the whole kingdom is depending on her?

Her stomach churns and she forces her feet to stand so she can sprint to the rail, leaning over and emptying every bite of her dinner into the sea.

It can't be. She can't be the only hope. There must be some other way. Because if she truly is the only one who can defeat Regina, they're all doomed.

"Emma?"

She hears Killian's voice and feels the urge to run, but her stomach lurches at just the thought and she bends back over the rail.

"Emma!" His booted feet rush across the deck, "Are you alright, love?"

Hysterical laughter bubbles in the back of her throat. She knows he's asking about her physical health but the question is so ludicrous…

Is she alright? Is she alright?

She's still bent over the rail and his hand lands at her lower back. She's thankful for the curtain of hair that keeps her face concealed, but then his hook is there, gathering the tangled strands and pushing them over her shoulder so he can examine her. She turns her face away, and she thinks maybe he sighs but it's drowned out by her own quick intake of breath.

"Emma – "

"Don't."

He stiffens, his fingers digging into her spine for half a beat before he starts rubbing soothing circles into her back.

Taking several measured breaths, she tries to clear the lump in her throat. When she finally straightens, a wave of dizziness swamps her that is so intense that she has to grope for the rail to keep herself from swaying on her feet. After a few more deep breaths, she opens her eyes to find a black handkerchief in her vision. She takes it without comment and rubs it over her face as the soothing circles resume.

"Better?" he asks quietly.

She nods in lieu of answering, the simple question making her eyes sting. He's being so sweet, solicitously hovering over her like a mother hen taking care of a chick and she can't even look at him. She's still gripping the rail when his arm slides around her waist, gently easing her back into his chest. She doesn't exactly resist but there's no hiding tension in her shoulders.

She doesn't know what to say. She wants to thank him for taking care of her, but she doesn't want to invite conversation, her emotions too close to the surface. She's scared and confused and angry, the weight of the world resting on her shoulders. Plus she's still dizzy, still nauseous and still craving fresh air even though she's surrounded by it. So she holds herself rigid, prepared to bend back over the rail if needed, praying that he takes the hint and keeps silent. And he does. He stands perfectly still, wordlessly offering support and comfort while thoughts batter around in her head.

Part of her wants to rage at the heavens – just scream until her lungs burn. It's so unfair, this destiny business, this inescapable fate that has pitted her against an enemy who is vicious and evil… an enemy who is more powerful than she is… an enemy who won't stop until one of them is dead.

That's what it will come down to in the end – one of them will have to die. And, as things stand, it's a good bet that Emma will be the vanquished. After all, it was only Merlin's intervention that saved them all in Portsmouth.

Killian's fingers flex on her waist, holding her more tightly and pressing a kiss to the back of her head. She tempted to turn to him and tell him to run, find the words to apologize to him for dragging him into the mess with her. He didn't ask for this. It's not his kingdom. Falling in love with a princess always comes with a price, but this… Well, this is more than either of them bargained for.

But she knows what he'd say if she told him to run. She knows he won't leave her to fight the Evil Queen alone. They're True Loves after all.

The thought has her drawing a sharp breath. They're True Loves –

True Loves who can't even tell each other they love each other.

It's like a cruel and twisted joke.

"Emma?"

It's her father, his tentative voice floating through the eerie fog, and she and Killian both turn to look over their shoulders. He's flanked by Merlin and Ruby, with Dopey, Jeff and Patricia close behind.

"There's more," she surmises in a flat voice.

"Not exactly more but – "

"Then it can wait," Killian clips out, stepping forward like a protective shield between her and her father.

Her father stops moving, his eyes widening at the blatant display of impudence. There aren't many people brave enough to stand up to a king and before Regina's takeover, Killian would never have dared. Now, though, she can see his shoulders squaring off for battle, and something about it makes the knot in her stomach ease. No matter who the adversary, he'll fight for her.

"I wish it could, but we're running low on time," her father replies, a subtle edge to his voice. "Emma's birthday is only a few weeks off."

That makes Killian's spine straighten even more. "Then you should have told us long before now."

Her father's eyes flash, stepping forward and flicking his eyes to hers. She knows she must look a fright, her cheeks tearstained and her eyes puffy, and her father must see it now, too, because he stops abruptly and his expression softens.

Then, turning his attention back to Killian, he says in a much calmer voice, "Look, I understand your frustration and I've already admitted I should have told you before the fall of the kingdom. But since then there was no reason. You were presumed dead. There was no guarantee that Emma would ever get her magic. Did she need the burden of that? I've done everything I could to protect her. Before I found you, I'd already planned to travel to Arendelle myself before her twenty-eighth birthday, but then you showed up in that tavern and I…" he trails off and glances to the ground. "Maybe I should have told you in Camelot. I considered it. But I can't change the past. Now is all I've got."

Killian's hand is still fisted but his shoulders have loosened and Emma steps forward to gain his attention by linking her fingers with his. "It's alright. I'm feeling better now," she tells him, a little surprised that it's actually true.

Fully turning to face her, he studies her face while using his hook to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Are you sure?" he asks.

"Yes, I'm sure. And we may as well hear the rest of it."

After a small hesitation, Killian nods.

"So, what else is there?" she asks her father.

"It's nothing about the prophecy. It's… We have a plan. You won't have to face her alone and you won't have to face her unarmed. Arthur, Lancelot and I have been searching for the pieces of Excalibur. We've found one and Arthur believes he's soon to find the other. The sword can strip a person's magic and with your fencing skills…" he gives her a small smile but one that is filled with pride. "We just have to find it and reforge it. We've also got the Spark of Prometheus." He motions to Merlin and Merlin pulls out a brass case and hands it to Killian. "According to what we've found, it's the only spark with enough power to reunite the sword."

Emma looks down to the box which Killian has flipped open. Inside sits a harmless-looking piece of coal.

"This?" she asks. "This is going to reunite the sword?"

Her father's eyes crinkle the tiniest bit. "I thought the same thing when I first saw it," he agrees, "but I've been assured it will work once it's lit."

"Okay," Killian says, "So how do we light it? I'm guessing it's going to take a bit more than striking flint with steel."

"Yes," Merlin puts in. "It takes powerful magic to ignite it."

"The power of the savior," her father adds meaningfully.

Emma is confused when Merlin's and her father's eyes move to her, both of them wearing expectant expressions. It takes a few seconds before she understands their meaning.

"And I'm the savior," she says.

"Yes," Merlin replies.

Emma's eyes go back to the Spark, trying to feel something, anything that hints at the powerful magic it supposedly contains. The stone is dense and black and, even with the lanterns flickering, it doesn't even so much as reflect any light. But then something emerges… a subtle orange glow at the center no bigger than a grain of sand. Her heart picks up speed and she watches the glow spread, vaguely aware of how her father and Merlin step forward to get a closer look.

The stone fills almost to the edges, light pulsing in and out like a heartbeat. There's an echoing flicker of something inside her, but when she reaches for it, it recedes and the stone returns to its pure black color.

Merlin's and her father's shoulders slump in unison as an inaudible sigh of defeat releases among the group.

"Don't worry," Merlin says, though his tone isn't exactly reassuring. "We'll figure it out. We'll – "

But he's cut off by three rapid dings of the Jolly's bell.

Killian immediately tenses, his thumb slamming the case shut and thrusting it toward her father.

"There's a ship approaching," he translates, he and Jefferson already moving to opposite sides of the ship to study the horizon.

"Do you see it?" he calls to Jefferson.

"Not yet," Jeff replies.

"Spread out and look for it," Killian orders to the group, "Dopey, man the helm! Patricia, get below with Grace and stay there!"

Everything else forgotten, Emma spins and runs to the rail, her eyes straining to see past the fog. She can hear the sound of feet running behind her – then, off to her right, the high-pitched whistle of a cannonball.

"To the starboard!" she yells an instant before the cannonball impacts the sea directly in front of her, the ensuing splash throwing a shower of water onto the deck.

Clenching her eyes, she twists away from the frigid wave, the heavy weight of it hitting her back and sending her stumbling. Strong arms catch her before she falls – her father – righting her before rushing to the rail to look for himself.

"Where is it?" she hears Killian yell.

"I can't see it," her father replies, "This fog is too dense!"

An instant later, Emma feels a rush of warmth move over her and she turns to see Merlin sweeping his hand over the mist. He's creating a thin line of vision in the middle of the fog, a narrow window that closes back in on itself as it travels across the horizon that will, hopefully, allow them to locate the enemy vessel without giving away their own position.

Her eyes trace the gap Merlin is creating, as do everyone else's, peering through the narrow opening until the ship is visible.

"There!" she shouts just as the enemy ship fires again, the word drowned out by the resulting explosion.

"Take cover!"

This one overshoots, whizzing well above the mainsail and crashing into the water on the far side of the ship.

"They're shooting blind, the fools," Jefferson says, "Firing off one cannon at a time and just hoping they hit us."

Killian nods his agreement. "They are. They must have only caught a glimpse of us. Let's make sure we're not where they think we're going to be. Hard to starboard! Make ready the deck cannons! Open the foresails!"

Her heart in her throat, Emma rushes to her father's side, helping him load one of the cannons while the ship creaks and tilts into its turn. The fog is still thick and Emma strains to look in the direction where they'd seen the ship but there's nothing but gray wafts of mist in her vision. They get the cannon loaded and wait for Killian's order, a thick and heavy silence descending as the Jolly continues its slow turn.

"Hold steady," Killian instructs in a calm voice, low and confident, the tone of it loosening the nerves in Emma's stomach. This is Killian's expertise, captaining a ship and commanding a crew, and his calm command tells her he's got this well in hand.

He's standing at the rail, his face a mask of concentration as though he's counting the seconds tick by, then without turning to face him, he says in the same low tone, "Dopey, shift the rudder and straighten us out."

The Jolly creaks and groans, everyone holding their positions while the ship levels, ready to fire the cannons as soon as Killian gives the order.

Holding her breath, Emma listens to her heart thud against her ribs, each beat increasing in pace, the tension in her muscles growing with each taut second…

Waiting… waiting…

"Fire."

The night is split with explosions, a volley of blasts coming from both the deck and below that reverberate loudly in her ears. The shots hit true to their target, exploding on impact and illuminating the night.

"Reload!" Killian orders but his command is quickly followed by Merlin's urgent voice.

"We don't have time. We need to get out of here!"

"And how do you propose we do that? We're already at full sails!" Killian yells back.

"Leave it to me and Emma," the wizard replies, rushing to take her hand and pull her toward the mast.

Emma follows, but they're not quick enough, the crack of cannonfire from the enemy ship piercing the air as they race across the deck.

"Hard over to port! Brace for impact!" Killian shouts, his voice close behind her just before he engulfs her in his arms and pulls her down with him, covering her with his body.

Thundering explosions surround them and she's never been so frightened, burying her face in his throat and squeezing her eyes shut. The Jolly shakes violently and debris begins to rain down, the crack of wood and whine of metal screeching loud and terrifying. Killian grunts in pain when something lands on his back, his breath hot against her temple and his hand clenching reflexively in her hair. Smoke fills the air, the acrid smell burning in her nose while they ride out the attack, both clinging strongly to the other amid the chaos.

She's a bit disoriented when she's abruptly pulled to her feet, her ears ringing and her head spinning. The smoke is getting thicker, but she doesn't have time to look for the source before Killian is pulling her away.

"Add your magic to mine," she hears Merlin say, then his hand is linking with hers and pressing it into something solid. She has one instant to realize they've made it to the mast before she's suddenly hit with a wave of power so strong that she gasps.

The Jolly surges forward, the planks groaning and vibrating under her feet. She's still a bit dizzy and the power flowing from Merlin's fingers isn't helping, the enormity of it pouring through her and leaving her breathless.

"Emma, add your magic to mine," he repeats, his hand squeezing hers, "I can't do this alone."

She raises her eyes to the wizard's, and it's only then she realizes Killian is still at her back, bracing her against the mast. Drawing energy from the warmth of his body, she gathers her magic and adds it to Merlin's.

The Jolly surges forward, but halts after only a few feet. Then it surges again – and again. The violent, stuttering motion throws her into the mast and her temple hits hard against the wood. Pain splits through her skull, exacerbating the dizziness, and she fears she may actually pass out.

"Emma!"

Her head is spinning as she grabs at the mast with both hands, trying to answer, but the noise is deafening and she can't gather her thoughts, she can't make her eyes open –

"EMMA!"

And the ship is shaking, and the wind is gusting, and she can't focus –

She can't –

"Emma, LOOK AT ME!" Merlin shouts with such authority that her eyes obey immediately.

Merlin's features sharpen in her vision, his gaze boring into hers. His brow is drawn together in either worry or confusion – she's not sure which – but then his eyes flick between her and Killian a few times and his mouth thins into a grim line of what looks like understanding.

Shaking his head, his eyes lock with hers. "You can do this," he says calmly even as the whistle of another cannonball approaches, "You've just got to remember…" His hand squeezes hers in reassurance, and something hazy settles over her, dimming the present, "Just… Close your eyes… And remember…"

His voice is almost a caress now, fading into the distance but somehow still echoing in her head as her eyes slip shut. The moment they do, the world around her disappears and a peaceful warmth sifts through the terror, surrounding her with a brilliant glow. When it fades, she's still on the Jolly but it's no longer night. It's bright and sunny and a carefree lightness settles over her heart. Her vision is hazy, like the edges are blocked by clouds but right in the middle where she can focus, she sees her parents standing side by side, her father calling out to her.

She goes to him, linking her arm in his.

'Father, she's incredible! I can't wait to see how she sails!'

Somewhere in the corner of her mind, Emma recognizes what's happening, but the knowledge is vague and only flitters around the edges of her awareness. She's about to meet Killian. She's about to look into his eyes for the first time.

She wants to turn to him right then, but she can't seem to, like she's stuck in a body that won't do her bidding – which she supposes in a way, she is. She also longs to embrace her mother, simply throw herself into her arms. The fact that she can't should be irritating but, somehow, it isn't. Somehow, it's peaceful… It's peaceful being in this place again – even though her subconscious knows all that happened later. Because, right now, that doesn't matter. Right now, she's with her parents… And Liam is there and… And it's tranquil and warm and lovely. Anticipation builds in her stomach while the moment plays out… She hears Liam speak and she makes some sort of answer, then her mother's voice - she hears her mother's voice! – introducing her to…

'Emma, this is Lieutenant Killian Jones, the Captain's brother and navigator.'

Their eyes meet and her body fills with warmth – with hope – and…

The vision fades out and another fades in, standing with him outside her room, a bouquet of buttercups in her hand. He's shuffling in front of her, his nerves evident and she surges forward to plant her lips against his.

Their first kiss…

The warmth in her body intensifies.

More visions follow, each one flitting in and out faster and faster…

Walking through the gardens, fencing in the courtyard, rowing on the lake…

His face is young and unlined, his eyes a brighter blue than she remembered; his smile joyful and unrestrained. There's no danger, no secrets, no worry to mar his features.

Strolling through the forest, talking on the bow of the Jewel, holding hands on the balcony…

The whirling visions pause there, everything slowing back down and the scene solidifying.

"You're leaving at first light?" she asks, regretting the question the moment it leaves her lips.

He nods in lieu of answering, his eyes moving to look out over the gardens rather than meet hers.

They've been ignoring his impending departure all day, neither of them wanting to tarnish their time together with talk of another separation.

"How long will you be gone?" she asks gently.

"At least two months," he replies.

The pall cast over them is nearly tangible and Emma is desperate to lessen it.

"Lucky you," she comments lightly, "that means you won't have to endure Baron Everly's visit while I'll be stuck here listening to all his nasally complaints about the state of the roads, or how the sun is too bright, or why the air has to smell like flowers all the time."

"Who would complain about the air smelling like flowers?" he asks with a trace of amusement.

"Baron Everly. The man loves to grumble. It doesn't matter what it is, he finds something to whine about. It's almost impressive how he can turn anything into a gripe."

The annoyance in her voice turns his smirk into a full smile and he steps forward to wrap his arms around her waist. "Well, then it's too bad I won't be here."

Emma chuckles. "You want to hear him go on about how fabulous Granny's cooking is just so he can lament over the fact that his cooks are awful?"

"Well, no," he admits, "but I would, if I were here."

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"So you wouldn't have to," he says simply.

Her confusion turns to understanding and her face lights up. "You'd do that for me?"

His hand lifts to her cheek, his voice turning serious, "I'd do anything for you, Emma."

Emma's heart flutters and the words leave her mouth before she even considers what she's saying.

"I love you."

His eyes widen and he draws a sharp breath, his hand falling away. He doesn't reply, he just stands there staring at her, the silence stretching so long that Emma feels a strong urge to flee.

She thought she knew how he felt about her. She thought he felt the same way. But the longer he remains silent, the more doubt creeps into her mind. And he must see it, her decision to run, because his hand shoots out to block her escape route in the same moment she takes the first step. She freezes but is too terrified to look at him. She knows her cheeks are flaming in embarrassment and disappointment, so she turns her face away from him as far as she can and squeezes her eyes shut.

"Emma…" he whispers, the forefinger of his free hand gently nudging at her chin until she's facing him again. "Emma, open your eyes, love."

She does as he's asked to find a profound tenderness in his expression, his lips curved at the edges. For a moment he simply looks at her, bringing his other hand up to run through her hair. Once he's finished his study, his eyes come back to hers.

"I love you, Emma."

Her heart jumps in her chest, so much so that it nearly drowns out the sparks that erupt from within it, and then he's bending to meet her lips, his tongue begging entrance and softly tangling with hers.

K&EK&EK&E

Killian's heart is pounding while he tries to hold Emma steady against the violent shaking of the ship.

"Emma add your magic to mine. I can't do this alone!" Merlin shouts.

Magic fills his chest and the Jolly jolts up and forward. It feels like the hull has left the water for an instant, but it drops after only a few feet, splashing back down into the sea. Then it jolts again. And again.

Everyone is grappling for something to hold onto. He sees David wrap his hand into one of the nets and reach for Jefferson's belt when he nearly goes over the side. Dopey loses his grip on the wheel and it spins chaotically until Ruby stumbles forward and steadies it. The planks are shaking and screeching with each surge, the hull battering against the water in a sort of skipping motion that makes Killian begin to worry the old girl might split right in two.

"Emma, LOOK AT ME!"

Merlin's authoritative command brings his attention back to the wizard. His eyes flick between the two of them for an instant, then he leans forward and speaks to Emma in a low voice. Killian can't hear the words but whatever it is causes Emma's body to go nearly limp and Killian immediately replants his feet to steady her.

Worried, he leans forward to check on her. As he does so, magic starts humming in his blood, its intensity almost mesmerizing. It builds slowly at first, softly drowning out the chaos around him, then faster and faster until, without warning it bursts so strongly that it takes his breath away. It's warm around his heart and it fills his head with a hazy hum of happiness that feels vaguely like the buzz of too many shots of rum.

Somewhere in the distance, he realizes the Jolly is no longer stuttering, her path now calm and smooth. The knowledge is dim, but he thinks he hears laughter as well. With some effort, he pulls himself out of the haze and scans the deck. A shout of victory penetrates, immediately followed by Ruby's joyous words:

"We're flying!" she exclaims, turning to David in wonder. "We're actually flying!"

David chuckles in return and casts a glance over to where he, Merlin and Emma are standing, his eyes filled with pride.

Leaning his head back, Killian looks up to the sails open above him. With amazement, he watches as the fires blow out, the edges of the holes left behind sparkling and collapsing inward until they're completely mended. Then he goes up on his toes to see over the rail and finds Regina's ship engulfed in flames below, the scene only slightly obscured by the fog they'd left behind.

Patricia and Grace burst through one of the hatches and Jefferson pulls them into his arms, turning so that they can gaze over the rail together. The little girl giggles and Killian feels an answering smile touch his lips. It's then when he notices the magic ebbing slowly away and he turns back to Emma to find her eyes open and on Merlin, something in their expressions making him feel like they've just had a silent conversation. Emma nods to the wizard and the ship begins to descend back to the water. The moment it touches down softly on the waves, Emma and Merlin release their grip.

Killian knows a moment of worry that the show of such powerful magic might have drained Emma's strength but she just laughs, turning to accept the thanks and congratulations from the rest of the group. When she finally faces him, her eyes are filled with something he can't place and she hesitates for one instant before throwing her arms around him and burying her face in his neck.