A/N: A huge thank you to the followers of this story for sticking with me. I am so sorry for the delays that keep happening. But now with school back in full swing, it takes a lot more effort for me to find time to write and for my beta(s) to double check what I want to send out to you. A huge thank you to Stephanie (Just4FunVids925 on YouTube) for beta'ing this story in spite of her move and new school year starting. Be sure to check out her wonderful CaptainSwan videos on YouTube. She is a wonderful video editor who has a flair for picking just the right song.

Disclaimer: I do not own the major characters contained within this story as they belong to the franchise of Once Upon A Time.

Chapter 22:

"Where are you going?"

Emma glanced over her shoulder and realized Killian had followed her from the kitchen. "I need to talk to Signora Assante."

"Because of the page I found?"

Stopping, Emma turned around and faced him. She snatched the page from atop the book she carried underneath her arm, waving the parchment almost unmindfully at him. "Do you have any idea what this is? Any idea at all?"

"Part of a fairytale?" he asked with a cocked brow, that had her losing her train of thought for one brief moment of time.

Emma shook herself from her lust filled thoughts and glared at him. "Seriously? After all that Robin and I have told you, you still are not going to believe? Not even after seeing this?"

Killian crossed his arms over his chest and his eyes clashed with her own, though his carried more mirth than her own. "Oh, I believe you. I believe that you believe that page is very important and real." He nodded at the paper she still held out. "Just why are you on such a mission to discover its story at this very moment, lass?"

Glancing down at the page, Emma had to even question her own motives. She placed the paper much more carefully under her arm then the way she had extracted it and raised her eyes to his. "Because, for once, I need something about this trip to make sense. For once, I want something, or someone, to answer at least one of the questions I have." Emma paused swallowing hard over the lump that was forming in her throat. "For once, I hope that something goes right."

He swept up to her and wiped the tear from her cheek that Emma hadn't even realized had slipped down. The gesture so much like the one he had done for her in the Enchanted Forest after she thought her mother had perished. Their eyes met and she smiled her thanks before actually saying the words.

"Anytime, love." He grinned back at her. "Let's go get your answers or we might not ever sleep this night."

It only took a minute after they knocked on Signora Assante's door for her to answer but it felt like forever. Their hostess took one look at the two of them and the book held tightly in Emma's grasp before she ushered them into her small bedroom, despite being dressed for bed, right down to her nightcap.

"What is wrong, signorina?"

"This." Emma held out the parchment. "Killian found this in the book. Is this what you were referring to earlier when you said I would find answers within the book's pages?"

The older woman accepted the paper. She carefully read the page before flipping it over and doing the same for the other side. Her look of disbelief was all the answer that Emma needed. Signora Assante had never seen the page before this moment.

"What do you make of it?" Emma asked her.

Several emotions flashed across Signora Assante's face before she finally answered. "It appears we have our answer, or at least a part of it. My distant grandmother was a princess inside of Misthaven."

"Not just any princess by the looks of it," Killian intoned from the corner where he stood.

"No," Signora Assante agreed. The woman appeared suddenly frail as she slowly sat upon the edge of her bed. "But who is this author that is mentioned?"

Emma dryly laughed but nothing about this situation was even remotely funny. "From what I have heard, it is a long story. To make it a little bit shorter, let's just say there have been many and he, or she, could have been any one of them." Emma approached and pointed to the page. "Apparently, whoever the author was at that time corrected the mistake that sent your ancestor," Emma scoffed, "and mine, here."

Tiziana Piscelli, the woman in the painting in Signora Assante's parlor, the one who looked so very much like Emma, was a grandmother to both women. She also happened to be the woman who had to prove she was a princess by sleeping on a hundred mattresses with a tiny pea tucked inside. Tiziana proved who she was and married the prince whose castle she had stumbled upon during her return to the Enchanted Forest. It was during that union that she birthed a son. That son was Emma's great-whatever grandfather. Emma was sure that once she returned to Storybrooke, it would all become clearer but for now, that knowledge was enough.

Irony was not lost on Emma. She remembered being a child laughing at the other kids who wished that Disney princesses and princes were their parents. Hell, in her wildest imagination, despite her constant wish to meet her parents, Emma would have never dreamed it was possible to be the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. And, yet, as Killian had once pointed out, here she was.

The older woman drew Emma's mind back to their present circumstances as she flipped to the back of the book where a white sheet of printer paper sat. "This is what I expected you to find." Signora Assante held out the paper to Emma.

"What is it?" Killian approached as Emma read.

"It's an email from Belle," Emma managed to mumble while the information sunk in. Looking over at the older woman who nodded, Emma continued, "It seems that some the information I sent to Belle set off alarm bells. She did some research on the name of the man who had taken over the kingdom that was meant to be my…" Emma reached out to clasp Signora Assante's hand, "our grandmother's. He was apparently related to King George. Which is ironic."

"Why is that ironic?" he asked with interest.

"Because both my father, and my uncle before him, were taken in by King George," Emma explained. "He counted on them to inherit his kingdom and rein after his death. Instead, after King George tried to separate my parents, they overthrew him before their marriage. King George was a bitter man because his wife had been cursed by a ruthless king in his own right who had coveted her. Realizing she intended to marry George, he gave her a potion destroying her ability to bear children. A potion George later used on my own mother before their marriage."

"She found some way to undo such obvious black magic," Signora Assante said in a way of encouraging Emma to continue her tale.

"Yes," Emma agreed. "My grandmother, my father's mother, decided the remaining water from Lake Nostos should go to my mother instead of saving her own life, which was in peril from an arrow piercing through her from one of King George's men."

"How sweet and sad." Signora Assante squeezed Emma's hand. "Had that been my own son's wife, I would have done the same. As would any mother."

Emma nodded and glanced up at Killian. His face was clouded and he appeared lost in thought. "Killian?"

"Lake Nostos?" he finally murmured. "There was a fight there."

"Killian? Do you remember something?" Emma released Signora Assante's hand and rose, reaching out to the man she loved.

"No. Nothing." He shook his head as if dismissing whatever thought had come to him.

"There was a fight," Emma told him. "You were there and so was I." Her hand trailed up his shirt clad arm and attempted for a joke. She whispered so only he could hear her. "And you were right. When you jabbed me with your sword, I felt it."

Emma expected him to blush like his priest self would or even make some innuendo as he used to do. Instead his eyes latched onto hers. Crystal blue fire could be seen in their depths as his nostrils flared with the shared memory of their night of passion. And for a second amongst all the sensual meeting of gazes, Emma sensed, for the briefest of instances, recognition. It set her heart racing, because there was still a chance, a lingering sliver of hope, that Emma might still reach him and it renewed her determination.

"It's late. I think I will return to bed and let you ladies finish your speculations about the page." Killian stepped back from Emma's touch as he spoke toward their hostess. He gave Emma a small, if almost imperceptible nod and then turned to give Signora Assante one of his most charming smiles. "I shall see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Padre."

"Will I see you tomorrow, Killian?" Emma asked before he had a chance to close the door behind him. She hated to sound desperate but she was afraid to let him go without some answer.

"I'm unsure of my exact schedule. Goodnight." He dipped his head in acknowledgement of the real reason she asked. He knew her too well, even if he couldn't remember. It almost made Emma want to cry, something she had found herself doing too much of lately.

The door closed with a gentle click, but it might have been slammed with all the closure it meant. A frail hand laid upon Emma's shoulder. Emma's own hand came up to cover it.

"He'll come around, cugina."

"Cugina?" Emma turned to look at the smiling older woman.

"Cousin. We are family now, si?"

Emma smiled, her first genuine smile of the evening. "Si."

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Early the next morning, way earlier than Emma anticipated being awake, she debriefed Robin on what happened the night before. She had to give him credit, Robin hadn't lived in Storybrooke long, but was already accepting of the very weird, convoluted version of her family tree. Hell, he probably heard a lot of it from Regina, long before Emma ever tried to explain it to him.

Robin dragged her to her room, after she finished her tale, grabbed her coat and threw it at her. "Let's go."

"Where?" Emma questioned as she pulled it on.

"You'll see."

He led her down practically deserted streets and alleyways until they ended up by the river's edge. Robin motioned to a nearby bench where they both sat down. He gestured at the river as they took their seats. "There."

"What am I looking at?" Emma asked him, unable to tell what exactly he wanted her to see.

"The horizon."

Emma turned to Robin confused. "Is it doing something?"

Robin shrugged. "I just thought you'd find it calming after the last few days."

"It is," she told him, then muttered to herself, "So is rum."

"What's that?" He gave her a questioning look.

Gracing him with a slight smile, Emma turned back to the river. "Nothing."

"If you need to talk…"

"I don't," Emma interrupted him. "Do you?"

Robin let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "If I thought it would help, I'd sing like the proverbial canary."

"Exactly," Emma agreed. She sighed and leaned back against the back of the bench, relaxed for the first time in days.

"I spoke to your parents last night."

And there went her sense of peace. Emma turned to glare at Robin. "Really? Now we're going to discuss them? Is that why you brought me here?"

"Maybe." Robin leaned forward so he could rest his elbows on his knees while his hands knotted together. "Just wondering if anything was going to enough or are you willing to lose them just to spite them? Since it seems somewhat contradictory to what you are doing for Killian."

Emma huffed and crossed her arms defensively, but that didn't seem to deter Robin one bit. "They've done a lot of good," he told her. "Turned themselves into heroes." Emma was about to debate that point but Robin held up a hand to stop her. "Yes, I know they didn't own up to what they did, but did you ever think that maybe they were ashamed? They wanted you to like them."

"I'd like them more if I'd known they turned themselves around."

"They were trying to protect you." Robin held up two fingers. "Twice." Then he began counting out his points as he continued, "Before you were born they wanted to make you happy. And when they found you again, they wanted to make you proud. Do you want both of those to be failures?"

Emma contemplated that as they both stared forward. Damn it, she had a lot of apologizes to make when she got home. Emma sighed. She needed to let her parents know how much they meant to her despite what they did. Because she couldn't completely cut them out of her life now, not after knowing how hard it was to keep the person you loved close when they wanted to push away. It was bad enough when she ended up in the Enchanted Forest and her mother hadn't known her because she hadn't been born yet. But now, after trying to even get Killian to remember her and all they shared, Emma knew the depth of feelings it took to walk away from the people you loved. Which led Emma to all the apologies she would have to say to Henry after leaving him. Yes, he was safely with her parents and Regina, but Regina was going through so much now with Zelena and taking care of Roland. Not to mention Zelena's pregnancy announcement and having to find Lily. And Emma's parents were with a new baby. They never raised her so it was all new to them and Emma saddled Henry to having to deal with playing second fiddle to everything else. In doing so, it left him at the mercy of Cruella. Something Emma berated herself daily for, since she wasn't even in Storybrooke to help.

Shifting on the bench, Emma turned so she could tell Robin some of her thoughts when something caught her attention. She only noticed at first the image out of the corner of her eye. As far as the fountain was from where they sat it was amazing she even noticed at all. But there he was. Killian. And that wasn't what startled her the most. No, it was the cigarette hanging so casually from his lips.

"Is that Killian?" Emma knew it was. She was sure of it but she had to ask Robin because she wasn't sure if her mind was playing tricks on her.

Robin glanced around to where she was looking. "Where?"

"Over there." Emma pointed to him where he slumped down against the stone wall of the fountain. He blended in with the few tourists and locals who had decided to stray out in the early morning hours. Killian was dressed in a gray hoodie, zipped up, with a pair of jeans and sneakers. Emma rose from where she and Robin sat and found her feet carrying her to Killian's side.

He didn't even glance up to see her, so intent on his activity. Emma pushed away the small cloud of smoke that enveloped her face and coughed. It was then that Killian's bright blue eyes met hers. A guilty stain of color tinted his cheeks but he didn't drop the cigarette.

Emma's eyes watered. "Now you've taken up smoking?"

"After the last few days, can you blame me?" he asked with a weak smile before taking another pull.

Reaching down, Emma grabbed the offending cigarette straight from his mouth. "Yes. You think I didn't have a crappy week? You think I had fun wondering if you were going to die? Or run off? Do you think it was fun to wonder if my son would be okay after he was kidnapped? How about when…" Emma started to shake, her emotions tumbling all over themselves, preventing her from saying another word.

He stood and reached for her. "Don't do this, Swan. Don't take the blame on yourself." Pulling her close, he flicked the still lit cigarette from her hand to the ground so he could stomp it out. The warmth of his arms felt good around her but she still couldn't stop her body from shaking.

"Ah, isn't this sweet?" A rough Italian voice ground out from behind Emma.

Killian pushed around Emma somewhat so that his body stood between hers and the portly gentleman. "Who are you?"

"Why, Captain, do we have to keep introducing ourselves every time we happen to meet?" The voice coming from the man sounded much more American now. The round older man leaned so he could peer around Killian at Emma. He winked at her before turning back to Killian. "Won't you even make formal introductions so I can finally have the pleasure of meeting Miss Swan?"

"No," Killian ground out through gritted teeth. "Leave her the hell alone."

The balding man's belly pulsated with his mirth. "Such an interesting choice of words, Captain. Especially coming from a priest. You are still a priest, aren't you?" At Killian's brisk nod, the man tsked. "I thought your mother would have taught you better manners before her demise, if not the church."

Emma felt Killian tense under her palms which rested on his back. "You know nothing about my mother."

"True. I never really did have the pleasure. She was apparently too good for me. Your father, however…" The man licked his lips as if enjoying every word he spoke. "Well, let's just say he and I grew fond of each other. Such a weak man. Easily influenced. I liked him. I liked him a lot. It really is too bad you don't remember much about him." The man smiled with such sadness, it radiated from him. "He was easily one of my most promising of sinners. I had hopes that you would follow in his footsteps after Milah's demise."

The man turned back to Emma and gave her a more reassuring smile than the one he previously wore. But the action only brought gooseflesh to her skin. Rumpelstiltskin had never creeped her out as much as this man. This guy may look like a harmless old man but he was anything but.

"Much like the Swan family," he told her. "They would have done almost anything to have a child of their own. Even sell their souls to the devil. It was too bad they weren't willing to trade yours." He shook his head and frowned. "No, they sent you back to the orphanage safely out of my clutches, or so they thought. They would have never imagined years later I would get a second chance after your incarceration. But, sadly, even then, I was unable to reach you. It's like you have some tangible thing hanging over you, preventing me from getting inside."

"My parents," Emma practically whispered to herself, though she could tell by the twitching of his jaw that Killian had caught what she said. Louder she said, "My parents made sure that the blackness, evil, couldn't get to me." Emma gave a dramatic shrug of nonchalance and smiled brightly in spite of her fear. "Your loss."

He pointed a finger at her. "Make no mistake, Emma Swan. You will be mine." The man came forward and stroked Killian's flexing jaw. "If for no other reason than to see this man suffer." The older man's brown eyes began to sparkle as a slimy smile passed over his lips before he gave the two of them a wink. "He really is so much fun to watch when he is miserable. All those years after you lost Milah were some of my happiest. I look forward to many more."

With one last pat to Killian's cheek, the man walked away whistling the Working Song from Disney's Snow White. It grated on Emma's raw nerves. She finally ground out, "I just want to punch him in the face."

Killian turned to face her, his blue eyes full of fury, though they slowly began to soften. "Won't do you any good, love. Don't anger him. He's more powerful, more dangerous, than Gold will ever be." She could tell he closed his eyes to regain some sense of calm. When he opened them, he gave her a crooked smile. "Emma, I can tell your heart is uneasy and it's my job, well, I hope it's my job, to protect your heart, and your soul. Even when no one is physically trying to steal it. Let me do my job and keep you safe. Please."

Emma nodded. "I will, Killian." At his narrowed eyes, she stepped closer. "Promise."

He let out a relieved chuckle and pulled her tight to his chest. His lips settled on the top of her head when she snuggled in. "Go with Robin. I have things to do."

Emma looked up and turned slightly. Robin had come up behind her. However, Emma didn't want to let Killian go. She knew he was going after whatever demon had just accosted them and she wanted to keep him safe as much as he did her.

Robin walked closer. "Emma?"

Sighing, Emma pushed back from Killian and realized Robin held out a hand to her. She didn't want to take it. She didn't want to leave Killian. And she sure as hell didn't want him to think he had to fight on his own. Emma was more than willing to take on whatever danger threatened them. If Killian was still the man she wanted him to be, he'd realize that.

Instead he leaned in and whispered in her ear. "Go. I'll be safe. I'll see you tonight. I promise."

Before Emma could think twice about her actions, she tugged at the hair on the back of his head, leading his face to hers for a soul drugging kiss. When he looked stupefied and breathless from what she had done, Emma nodded and told him, "You better."