Apologies for the length of time between updates. I am still very much committed to this fic! Reviews would be hugely appreciated; they really do keep me motivated. Thank you!

David had manipulated people before. He had no moral problem with lying; he was a prince, and running a kingdom and being a slave to honesty did not always mix well. However, he experienced twinges of guilt over manipulating Belle, Will and especially Henry.

Will had been as good as his word: with less than 24 hours to organise a resistance movement against Arthur, Will had tracked down leaders and created a coherent group of several hundred men and women willing to face down Arthur at the castle. David filed away the thief's unexpected abilities to lead and organise; princes needed such rare skills, and David had never previously considered Will to be in possession of them.

The others believed that an 'army' – even a hastily-assembled troop armed with second-hand weapons – was necessary to defeat Arthur. David knew otherwise. He had already located the lynchpin in Davy Jones' plan. Neither man was willing to risk Killian and Emma in this fight; Emma especially had to be kept well away from the castle once Arthur arrived. No, the 'army' was needed to fill the oncoming vacuum of power once the king fell. Davy Jones had planned no further than personal vengeance; David refused to participate if their plan would plunge Camelot into civil war.

He followed Will into the town, Jones' missing piece clutched firmly in his jacket pocket, dug from the frozen ground near an enchanted lake, exactly where Jones had said it would be. The light magic of the place had kept a demon like Jones from entering, but the prince had succeeded in many a magical quest before. He had located and liberated the prize, alone, within the space of an evening.

Now they marched, hundreds, as quietly as a pack of hunting wolves, trekking through the forest outside Camelot in the pre-dawn gloom without so much as snapping a twig beneath their feet. Will and Belle led the way, sworn to assemble below the castle walls by first light, while gathered information from those near the back of the group.

David made his excuses and slipped away. He needed to find a way to Guinevere's tower before Emma and Killian returned.

...

Snow awoke not long after she'd fallen asleep. Even from the heights of the Guinevere's tower room, she couldn't see a hint of the sun on the horizon. Regina had made quick work of reversing the spell that held Guinevere bound to Arthur, but the revived Guinevere retained all of her memories: of Arthur taking her, night after night, when she had never wished him to touch her again; of Lancelot's death; of every murder that Arthur had her plan, and perpetrate. She had sobbed and wailed; Snow, Regina and Mairead had held her back from throwing herself over the balcony when she realised what had been going on for all these years.

The queen had finally fallen asleep only an hour previously, and Snow, Regina and Mairead had followed, exhausted. Now she woke to a familiar closeness: David, kneeling beside her on the tile floor of Guinevere's room, pressing a kiss to her lips.

"David," she said softly, astonished, "how did you get here?"

"This castle allows its enemies in, the better to trap them inside," David explained. "I had to be here. Where is Emma?"

Snow shook her head. "Killian took her away, but none of us know where they've gone. They are returning at dawn to make the announcement. We have Guinevere…" Snow nodded to the sleeping queen, "and she will support Killian."

David leaned back against a wall and pulled Snow onto his lap. "Today will test all of us, Snow. Promise me you will trust me." He rubbed his thumb over Snow's wedding ring. "No matter how insane it seems, please promise to keep your faith in me."

Snow put her hands on both of his shoulders and pushed him back. "Charming, tell me. Whatever it is, tell me now." But she was cut when Emma and Killian suddenly appeared on the balcony to her left, in David's clear line of sight, snogging as though they had no awareness of anyone else. Killian's shirt hung open and Emma's dress was still partially unlaced down the back. Killian was skimming one hand up and down her exposed skin, the other cupping her arse through her dress. Emma one hand over Killian's bare chest, over his heart, and her eyes were closed against the outside world.

David coughed. Loudly. Emma pulled her head away from Killian as though he'd stung her. Killian slid his hand from her arse to her lower back in deference to David, but he refused to relinquish his hold on her entirely. This led to a bit of a struggle, as Emma tried to put some space between herself and her pirate, and Killian continued to resist. David finally growled, "Let her go, Hook," and stomped over to force the issue.

Regina raised a weary head from the enormous bed where she'd fallen asleep next to Guinevere. "David… what the… what time is it?" She raised her half-open eyes toward the eastern window, then took in the sight of the half-dressed couple before her. "God, it is too early for this stupid argument. Prince, she's pregnant. Do I need to have Hook spell out in graphic detail how he put the baby in there?"

Regina threw her legs over the side of the bed and managed to look almost instantly in charge. "I doubt you'll appreciate the tale. She has no virtue left to protect, David. Now back off. And Hook, let her go and get yourself dressed. None of us need to see the two of you hard at it ever, and certainly not this early in the morning." Regina positioned herself behind Emma, carefully shifting Emma's hair over her shoulder and lacing up the back of her dress.

Snow pushed herself up off the ground, now completely awake. She stood next to Regina, and they regarded the couple together. "They'll need to change clothes, something that the people of Camelot will identify as regal," Snow remarked. Regina waved her hand in Killian's direction and the two women regarded him again. The black tunic and breeches, while not leather, seemed to suit him, looking suitably royal but still with a hint of his usual pirate attire. Regina then turned to Emma and waved her hand again. Emma was in a deep blue dress with gold trim, long and clinging, with an exposing neckline that Killian immediately appreciated.

"Now that dress suits your new shape, love," he smirked.

"They are not that much bigger," Emma hissed.

David scowled at the dress. "Neckline, Regina. Emma looks a bit… underdressed… to take the throne."

"Nonsense," Killian countered. "Shows off her assets to great effect."

"Don't underestimate the importance of appearance in Camelot." They all turned back to the bed, to the voice. Guinevere had propped herself up with one hand on the bed. She blinked at Killian with bleary, tear-stained eyes. "Captain Jones…" She faltered. "I owe you the most profound apologies."

"Ah, no, Your Majesty, none of this was truly you, it was Arthur…" Killian cast about for the correct words to say to calm her.

Guinevere began crying again, picking up where she had left off the night before. "Oh, no, Captain Jones. I have wronged you in the most grievous way. I know I wasn't myself, but…" the queen breathed deeply a few times. "I can never repair the damage I have done to you."

Killian tilted his head to one side. He looked over at David, who was shifting uncomfortably by the wall, trying to sink into the background.

"What do you mean, Queen Guinevere? Arthur has chased us, harmed us, yes, but thankfully nothing on the scale you seem to be suggesting…"

Guinevere turned her eyes away from Killian as the tears kept falling. Emma shifted closer to Killian and he put his arms around her. Guinevere continued: "Captain Jones, please understand that I was under the spell's command. I would never have done it, never…"

Killian felt himself growing impatient. "Done what?" he demanded.

As Guinevere broke down completely, Mairead came to sit next to the queen. "Killian," Mairead said quietly, "It was Guinevere who killed Orla. She killed your mother."

Emma didn't gasp and Killian didn't blink. They held onto each other silently and let that news sink in. Killian found his voice, but it came out with more anger than he intended. "How? No more useless tears and apologies. Just tell me."

As Guinevere continued to cry into Mairead's lap, Killian's aunt reached out for his hand. "Killian, darling boy, come sit." When he made no move, Regina gave a gentle tug on his arm. "C'mon, Hook, we need to hear this." Emma pulled a chair up close to Mairead for him, and settled herself on its arm when he took the seat.

Mairead began, in her voice that sounded so like Oona's soothing tone: "After your birth, Orla knew that Arthur believed you to be his son. She had never left your father, and lived with him most times, and she also knew that the dates did not match up for Arthur. None of this made any difference, Arthur was convinced, and you were as good as dead. So she took you and Liam and ran back to Davy. He took her back – he always did – he loved her no matter what she got up to.

"Orla convinced him to run. He took you boys on that ship of his, but while he disappeared with you, Orla returned to Camelot to confront Arthur herself. He had spies everywhere, then as now, and he knew that Orla was coming to kill him and save her child. So he had Guinevere approach Orla; they had always been friends. Orla didn't know that Arthur was controlling her…" Mairead trailed off, not wanting to make the account graphic, to spare whatever feelings he might have.

Killian heard the story out in silence, a practiced, neutral look on his face. "That's why my father traded his soul to the devil? To become the guardian of the Underworld and go after her?"

Mairead nodded. "Yes, he wanted to go after her, but he also knew that he could forever protect you, keep you alive by refusing to let you die and cross over. When the time came, he could protect your life."

Killian looked at the ground, as though trying to tease some sense of the situation from the tiles. None of this matters, he told himself; it's pointless nostalgia. Guinevere wants to assuage her guilt, so fine, he could tell her that he forgave her if that would help. He didn't, he simply didn't care about her. All of this, this whole journey, was, for him, about finding a place and time where he and Emma and Henry and their baby… babies one day? … could be happy and safe. He unconsciously slid his right hand around to Emma's still-flat stomach.

"Very well," he said finally, his voice flat and emotionless. "I forgive you, provided you will stand next to us on that balcony and denounce your husband."

Guinevere looked up. "Of course, yes of course, anything to stop that monster."

Killian stood up and brushed down the clothing that Regina had conjured for him. He took Emma's hand and pulled her to her feet in front of him. "The sun's up, love, and people are gathering in the square. Let's make this announcement and get Arthur back, so that we can finish this and go home."

Emma smiled at him and took his face in her hands. She kissed him deeply, and even David kept his peace in the background and waited for Killian to pull back. When he finally broke away from Emma's kiss, Killian held out his right arm to her, and she slipped her hand through to hang onto him.

"Shall we?" he said, lifting his eyebrows, and she walked tall and straight onto the balcony with him, once again trying to channel the princess she had never been.

…

Belle looked up from the centre of the square, where she and Will had gathered their makeshift "army". She shielded her eyes from the rising sun, waiting for Killian and Emma to appear on the balcony. Finally, she caught the shimmer of a tiara high about in the tower, and saw Emma standing next to Killian, looking every bit as Regal as Snow and David ever had back in the Enchanted Forest. From a distance, she couldn't make out details, it was more an impression of royalty and wealth and power that the two of them seemed to carry off surprisingly well for a pirate and bailbonds person.

"Bloody pirate all jumped up in his finery," Will whistled next to her. "Wouldya look at that then."

Henry rushed up to them, and Belle squeezed him against her side. "Look at your Mom!" she grinned at him, a few tears gathering in her eyes. Henry grinned right back, "She looks amazing," he agreed, his voice rich with pride. "And Killian."

Guinevere appeared to the side of Killian and Emma, and she introduced Killian as Arthur's true son and rightful heir. She explained that her husband the king had died, and that the people should accept Killian, as she had, as Camelot's true King. The crowd gasped but remained riveted to the scene on the balcony.

Killian delivered his speech in a loud, commanding voice, but Will heard almost none of it. He scanned the crowd, looking for dissenters, for anyone demanding proof of Arthur's death or denouncing Killian. He vaguely picked up the usual promises… safety, prosperity, honour, blah, blah, blah… but Will knew that this was all for show and that Killian had no intention of ruling any kingdom and particularly not this one.

When the speech finished, Killian and Emma melted away, and Guinevere came to the fore again, where she spoke and calmed the crowd and anticipated their questions. Even the guards and castle loyalists didn't seem to know what to make of the news. The king was dead, long live the king. No one seemed to question the veracity of the queen or her loyalty to Arthur. Will, Belle and Henry breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"What now?" Belle asked, pressing against Will.

"Now we wait for Arthur," he said, "and we hope them up there have a plan to kill 'im. Because he is going to be out for blood."

…

David stood nervously, just out of sight of the balcony, as Killian and Emma stepped back inside. Snow threw herself at her daughter, so proud of her little girl who looked and sounded as though she had been raised in the castle in the Enchanted Forest after all. David gave his daughter a crushing hug, and reached to shake Killian's hand.

"How do you feel now that you're a king?" David grinned.

"Like an imposter who's waiting to murder the real king and hand this place over to someone who cares," Killian shot back. "If I never see Camelot again, it will be too soon."

David's smile faltered a bit, but he nodded in agreement. Some part of him couldn't help being a bit drunk on the fantasy that his daughter had grown up a princess, and married a king. A fantasy that Emma shattered with her next words.

"This goddamn corset is digging in everywhere," she swore loudly. She rubbed inelegantly at her lower back and then readjusted her cleavage. She cast an unimpressed glance at the platter of bread and fruit that had been brought up for breakfast. "I would kill for some onion rings," she added.

David sighed. He reached into his pocket and found the talisman that Jones had tasked him to find. He subtly pulled Snow back towards him, leaving Emma and Killian to speak with Regina. "Remember," he whispered to her, "please remember to trust me." Snow searched his eyes for some hint of his intentions. "Arthur will be here soon to fight for his kingdom. I can't risk Emma, and the baby, and Jones won't let me risk Killian, either."

Snow balked. "Jones? What does he have to do with this?"

And suddenly another, deeper voice was whispering in her other ear, sending shivers down her spine and all the way to her toes. "You shall soon find out, milady." She whipped her head around to find Jones standing over her, a fresh black longcoat over his white shirt, trousers and waistcoat, a red cravat twisted elegantly around his neck. "Do not fear, milady, your good husband and I have struck an accord to keep our children safe."

Killian stiffened at his father's arrival, and completely lost the calm he'd been clinging to since Mairead had recounted the tale of his mother's death. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Killian boomed across the room. Emma shrank into herself for a moment at the raw anger in his voice. She had lifted her foot to walk over and greet his father, but discretely set it back down again at the sound of Killian's voice. Even it went against her nature, she owed her boyfriend a solid display of loyalty, even it meant freezing out Jones.

Jones crossed the space between them and leaned down to place a kiss on Emma's cheek in greeting. Killian unceremoniously swept her out of his path. "Stay away from her," he growled.

"Killian… son," Jones appealed to him, but Emma felt Killian's muscles tense beneath her hands, "I hope you'll understand, but I simply cannot risk you, or Emma, and certainly not my grandchild, in the coming fight. Killian knocked it away. "I'm sorry, my boy, but I have to do this…"

Jones waved his hand across Killian and Emma. White smoke surrounded them, starting at their feet and swirling up around their bodies. Emma clung a bit tighter to her pirate. She tried to counter the spell with her own magic, but could not overpower Jones. "Papa, don't…" she called to him.

Jones reached his hand through the fog of magic and gave her hand a quick squeeze. "I'll bring you back soon enough," he smiled sadly at her.

Killian yelled out in rage for a moment, but then disappeared along with Emma. Jones dropped his head briefly, but quickly recovered himself. He looked back to David. "Do you have it, Prince?"

David nodded and handed over the plain, gold ring he'd brought for Jones. Davy Jones twisted it back and forth in his hands and considered his next move. Regina looked aghast at the two men. "What have you done with Emma?" she demanded. "Killian is over 200 years old, and the captain of his own ship, not to mention the current ruler of this entire realm. You cannot banish him like a child!"

"He is my child, Your Majesty, so that call is mine to make. They are perfectly safe," Jones assured her.

He twisted the gold band in his hands. "And now we wait. Guinevere, how much longer?"

"Arthur's knights have already been spotted riding hard for the castle, Davy. Soon, very soon," she replied.

David and Jones took up positions on the north and south balconies, looking over the approached to Camelot. Snow and Regina took the east and west lookouts. They gazed across the four corners of the land, and they waited.