The first month and a half

New villain in town... but I won't get into that till I'm done with all the more jocose and obliging part of my life, so first things first.

I think it is quite safe to say now that that little tike holds my heart in his tiny little hand. He does. Turns out he indeed sports his father's eyes (I would have loved to see Emma's emerald greens as well, but he didn't fair badly now, with my eyes, did he?). Snow, however, says that his features are Emma's. So, all in all, and as I had quite cleverly foreseen, the boy has got the best of both his mother and father. There was no losing, now. He'll break a lot of hearts.

Little pirate.

Like I wrote before, he's bloody brilliant, especially at night, basically because he sleeps through it, so while Emma and I are rolling around by our business (yes, we actually are back in business), he never even makes a peep. Good lad. And speaking of our business, it has taken me quite a lot of verbal effort to persuade Swan to allow herself back into that arena... she felt she had sort of lost her fit appearance, which of course was utter nonsense... if anything, she's far more beautiful now if that is even possible. She made me a father, bloody hell, how could she even...? All the same, I do believe she had also missed that particular feature of our love so after a few go's, she and I were going for it like in the old days.

And I have to say, I am glad, glad, glad to be back in business. What utter relief. Had I held another month I'd have probably gone barkers.

Liam actually smiles now. Only a month and he turns to look in my general direction when I speak his name. I walked through the room one day, after his lovely mum had bathed him, and simply sang out his name: "Liaaaaam!"

He smiled. I cried.

Blackbeard be gone from my mind.

What's even more marvelous about this is that he can even tell who his mother and father are! He pursues our voices with his peepers. And when he does, he actually gazes into our own eyes. I swear, not a day goes by that I don't discover something new about him. Those gazes can utterly make the boldest knight's knees weaken and make him fall into a self-made heap of feebleness. That's quite what happens to me.

Henry made a small hook for him. Not joking! He did. He has a smithing craft class at school and he thought it would be hilarious to make him a very small (and of course, blunt) version of my hook brace. I was over the moon but my dear lady nearly had a heart attack and demanded he remove the thing and I act firmly. So I did: I put my now parental authority to use and told Henry it was bad form to induct the child into such a world (and then I winked at him, poor lad. I saved the brace... I had Henry take one photograph of him when Swan wasn't looking...I insist that photographs are a thing of magic) and continued to pretend I had gotten rid of the blasted, adorable little pirate's hook. Ahh, my little pirate boys!

And then came the crises...

One morning, I wake to his dawning hollers and find him to be breathing rather oddly. I take him over to Emma, who (as always) has a hard time waking from her slumber. My persistence brings her about and when she takes over she wakens suddenly and realizes our son has a bad fever. Now I had been through many a dire strait before, but I can't say I had ever been as scared as I was that morning. The boy could hardly breathe without making horrid, gargling sounds.

But what drove both of us over the edge was the fact that, when she took him to her bosom, the child would not eat. He cried steadily and so did we. We instantly clad ourselves with our clothing, and without further a due, we drove to the hospital. Halfway there, he stopped crying and for an instant, I turned and found him to be very still. We panicked. Swan pulled over and frantically reached for our boy... He lived, of course, but had fallen into a deep sleep from the relentless fever, and things were really not looking up for any of us. And then... Swan kissed his little head, tars in her eyes and hands shaking; there was a luminous energy that fired out from the point where her lips touched his skin... and the lad was suddenly fine. His breathing became normal again and now he was just sleeping soundly.

The savior indeed; apparently, only the Dark One had the magical skill to heal. But after consulting with him, he claimed that, much as he is the world's most powerful dark wizard, Emma was clearly the balancing weight, only with light magic, which also gave her the gift of healing. She was more than just a little bit surprised, especially since she hadn't done a lot of practicing since her gravidity first became known to us.

Needless to say, we went home and slept for hours. All of us. Except Henry who had missed the miraculous mischance and was quite ready to go to his educational settlement. Alas, the boy walked himself to the bus stop.

The next day he and I went for a long bloody day out, to compensate for his patience and nurturing heart. I cannot deny Henry has grown on me quite fathomlessly. He is quite the spitting image of his birthfather and also has his stout spirit; and his unyielding faith in people's potential for kindness he gets from his beautiful mother. He has a way of seeing the good in people who apparently cannot be redeemed. During our outing we sat in the park, eating an ice cream (I've become quite fond of those, especially the chocolate one... bloody hell, where had I lived all these years?) and he said that he had always thought I'd be good for his old lady. That caught me by surprise. He really is an insightful young sir. And since he calls me "dad" (which I quite enjoy, as it happens), I try my best to be as close to the hero Bae was as I can be. Those are big shoes to fill, and even when Henry does not consider it necessary for me to add that extra lick of effort, I do. I swear these Swans are bringing out the best in me. And I can't thank them enough... or love them enough.

This has not been easy sailing. But in the end, this is all worth every small or vast amount of woe it may have contained within. The waters may be choppy, but my ship, my family, is sailing as smooth as a vessel on a lakebed. I got me two boys, one lovely wife and (hopefully) in the furure we might set out for the little lady. Now THAT would make my life complete and I can honestly assert I would want not a thing more.

I have never been happier.

We will see what time holds for us ahead. For now, Swan and the crew have sort of noticed oddities in the town. Apparently, there is some sort of new malfeasant called The White Witch (like the green one hadn't been enough) from some unknown realm called Narnia (Henry knew of it well enough and, as it was expected, it was he who made heads from tails as to her derivation; resourceful boy!), who apparently, and quite in the style of our very own Elsa, has a thing for all things cold and sort of... likes little children to do her evildoings. Now, being a hero back when the Swan and I were single was adventurous enough, but having little ones makes this even more frightening.

I'll have to dust the cobwebs from my sword, I gather... That witch will not be laying a finger on any town resident... or on anyone in my family, be that the Charmings, Henry, my swan or my wee Liam.