The Fourth Year
Princess Emma prances through the palace gardens, a young boy of six years old trailing behind her.
"You can't catch me Bae!" she shouts gleefully, zig zagging through the trees. The boy laughs and almost trips over a tree root that seems to appear out of nowhere in front of him. "Watch me!" he shouts, with a big grin on his face. With a sudden burst of speed, the boy gains on Emma. He tackles her and they both fall to the ground with a thud. Laughing so hard her side hurts, Emma rolls onto her back.
"Baelfire" she laughs, "You ruined my dress!"
"You ruined your dress earlier today," he says, grinning. "I just finished the job." At that, Baelfire receives a harrumph from Emma who is sitting with her back turned towards him.
"Ah Ems, don't be mad," Baelfire pouted, reaching over to put his hand on her shoulder. "It was all in good fun." Without warning, Prince Baelfire is lying on his back in the dirt, with a princess in a dirty, torn dress standing over him triumphantly.
"You're right Bae it is!" Emma shouts as she runs back towards her parents' castle. Prince Baelfire props himself up on his elbows as he watches his friend run away.
"I will not have my son marry some, some heathen!" Rumplestitleskin shouts. "Teach the girl some manners or your kingdom, and your family will no longer be protected!" With that the Dark One leaves, taking his son, and his son's torn jacket with him. Before he's pulled into his father's carriage, Baelfire turns around and offered Emma a smile.
"Who knew the Dark One would be upset about some ruined clothes," Snow White sighed. She looked down at her daughter, who sniffled, trying to hide her tears.
"Oh Emma don't cry," Snow said to the princess. "Next time Baelfire visits, you'll just have to be more careful that's all."
"Baelfire told me, that there won't be a next time, for a long time Mama!" Emma cried. "He's not coming back until I can marry him!"
"Oh honey," Snow said soothingly, bending down to hold her daughter close. "We'll make do I promise. You can write letters, and send him pretty things that you get when you travel with Daddy okay?"
"Okay Mama," Emma sniffled and grabbed her mother's hand. Together, they walked through the garden and into the castle, to write Emma's first letter to her new friend Prince Baelfire.
Later That Evening
"No Neal not like that, I can't even tell what that is!" Emma said. "A horse has four legs, not three, and it only has two eyes!" Emma held up her picture of a horse to show her baby brother. "Why don't we try something easier, like a beanstalk?"
"Honey, your brother isn't even a year old. He doesn't know what a beanstalk is!" David chuckled, watching his children play at the foot of their parent's bed.
"Yes he does!" Emma cried. "I told him!"
"Honey he's a baby, he can't understand you." Snow said sternly.
"Yes he does Mama, watch!" The royal couple could only watch as their eldest child placed her hand on her younger brother's head. The baby's gargling laughter stopped for a moment, but resumed as soon as Emma removed her hand.
"Emma…" David started.
"Wait Daddy! Watch!" Emma shouted. The small family did just that as baby Neal crawled towards the paper. With what can only be described as a light touch, he dipped a brush into the green paint and set to work, drawing what more than resembled a beanstalk, right out of one of Emma's storybooks.
"Oh my…" Snow breathed. Baby Neal crawled over to his big sister, and wrapped his little hand around two of her fingers.
"Mama, Daddy, Neal's tired. He wants to go to bed." Princess Emma said, snapping her parents out of their trance.
"It is getting late," Snow yawned.
"I think it's time all of us hit the hay," David said. The young parents tucked their children into bed, and then settled in for the night themselves, the day's events swirling like tornadoes through their tired minds.
Somewhere at Sea
A young boy of fourteen years old settled into the hammock, in the cabin boy's quarters. His little brother, just seven lay next to him, nestled against his body. Bruises and lashes covered the younger boy's body, making it apparent that he had taken a beating, quite recently, from a whip of some sort, maybe a Cat O' Nine Tails. The older brother had one lash across his face, from where he had jumped in front of the weapon, to get the captain to stop the torture.
"He's just a child!" he had shouted. "If you're going to whip anyone, whip me!" The captain hadn't whipped him, but he'd kicked him in the stomach, over and over, cursing him, telling him to keep a better eye on his brother, or else they'd both be cut into pieces and fed to the sharks. The poor boy had done his duty as older brother and taken the beating, and carried the unconscious form of the only family he had left, back to their shared cabin, cleaned him up, and put him to bed. He looked out the small window of the cabin, hoping, praying for a miracle, or something, to get them off of this living hell called a ship. He knew it was useless though. He looked down at his younger brother lovingly, and sighed.
"Oh Killian, what in God's name are we going to do." With those words, the boy drifted off to sleep, mentally preparing himself for the morning, when he would have to do it all again.
"Captain, we need to make port soon, "the first mate said. "We are running low on rations, and the crew is getting antsy." The captain sighed, but nodded his head warily. "Set course for the Enchanted Forest," he replied.
Somewhere on the deck of that ship, a shining white butterfly fluttered it's wings, and flew off into the night.