So this chapter was fun to write in a few spots because you will get to see more of Snowing (Snow especially) and their reactions to Emma's new friend. I have also done a little call back to a Snow and Emma conversation on the show in Season 3 when Emma tells Mary Margaret that she kissed Hook in Neverland.

To answer a few questions: I haven't really been very clear about it but in this story Emma is turning 22 and Henry is 4. I couldn't quite make it work with the timeline to have her 28 and Henry 10 with Leo being young and the curse having not worked. So Henry and Roland are the same age in this story.

Leo struggled a bit to keep up with the longer strides of Emma and Killian, his shorter legs having to take two steps for each of theirs. However, he was an unusually happy child – taking after their mother in that way – and rarely let anything discourage him.

"My parents should arrive tomorrow," Emma said, breaking the silence they had fallen into on their route. "I have missed them, but I am not happy to leave either."

Killian placed his hand over hers that was looped through his other arm. "I should think you would be happy to get back to the palace and not have to do such menial work again." The fact that a princess had been changing beds, sweeping floors, and scouring pots had taken him by surprise. More surprising was her good natured response that she was merely helping.

"I will miss everything here," she said, looking up at the trees that would soon canopy the path with bright green foliage. "Granny, Red, the pub, and you."

"And I you as well," he assured her, squeezing her hand with his. "I would still suspect you might enjoy royal balls more than pouring pints at the pub." He winked as he said that, having heard mention from someone along the way that the King and Queen were avid dancers and threw a ball on any occasion."

She wrinkled her nose. "They are dreadfully boring. And filled with stuffy people who are too busy trying to impress each other." Contorting her mouth to one side, she flashed her green eyes at him. "Have you ever been to one?"

He cleared his throat. "No, I can't say that I have. I'm afraid I would never be able to attend with you. You father would never approve of a princess dancing with a pirate."

She giggled a short laugh, gripping his arm tighter. "I did not invite you, Killian. That would be my parents' place to do that. And then you would need to invite me to dance." She paused. "Do you know how to dance?"

"I suspect most would not believe it, but yes. I learned as a young lad with my mother. She worked in the kitchens for a duke after my father left. She was always enamored with the events that she witnessed and wanted me to learn to behave in that fashion, along with my brother. After she became ill she even had us dance with each other to check our form. At least that is what she said. I think it was her way of amusing herself." He chuckled to himself remembering his brother's clodding steps around the tiny room.

She tried to imagine a young boy and his older brother dancing a waltz. The very idea seemed more sweet and endearing than Killian usually made himself appear. "I should like to have seen it."

Leo ran back to them with the obvious news that they were approaching the cabin. Emma could see the smoke from the chimney and felt her chest tighten at the sight. Soon she would be at Granny's side and Red would join them by nightfall. Tomorrow her parents would be greeting her and by the next day she would be her way home.

"It appears that the Widow Lucas is making her home ready for your parents," he said, noting the bed linens that hung on a clothes line and scent of something sweet baking that was wafting on the air. "Their arrival must be imminent."

"Yes, I'm sure she thinks there is much to do before late morning. According to my mother's letter they have elected to take the northern route because it is quicker and more scenic. She is not opposed to a bumpy route like others might be." She smiled sadly. "I suppose this is our goodbye."

His snapped in her direction, looking down upon her face through the thick dark lashes that framed his eyes. That letter she spoke of was still in his pocket, in anticipation of him finding a way to slip it back to her. He had not read its contents and yet she had still spilled the details of her parents' journey. He begged his mind to forget the news of it, forget the details that Smee had been waiting for and that he had said they could not proceed without. "I suppose it is, lass," he said even quieter than she did. "A better man would stand beside you and talk to your parents. Yet I am not all that convinced that your father would not have me arrested on sight."

"I wish I could argue that point," Emma said. Her green eyes watered as she told her brother, who had no real understanding of the responsibilities of a chaperone, to run ahead and alert Granny they were coming. "If they truly knew you, they would like you. But I think you are right that titles and reputations might get in the way of that. So I suppose…Should I await your letter? You did say you would write."

"Aye, I did."

The light wind felt good on their skin, softly touching and lifting their hair with its gentle power. "I would like it if you did, but I will understand if you don't. I am sure you will be much too busy to remember me what with your pirating and all."

"You are not a woman I would easily forget," Killian admitted. "But you belong in that life and not here. And I have my own life to get back to, love. But I will write you and await your replies just as eagerly. I have great interest in what you do and how your life turns out."

Her eyes glistened even more as she stood on her tiptoes, giving herself a moment to place her lips to his cheek. "I hate goodbyes, especially tearful ones." She gave a final glance to the cabin, sure that she could see Granny's silhouette in the door. "I should go."

He loosened her grip on his arm while continuing to hold her hand in his own. "It is not every day that a man such as myself is in the company of a beautiful princess," he said, the smile he was wearing sad and regretful. Bringing her hand to lips, he kissed it gently and then another to her forehead. "I am grateful for the opportunity to have met you and spent time with a woman such as yourself. I count myself among the luckiest."

***AAA***

The first of the royal carriages rumbled into the village just after daybreak, the queen's eager face plastered to the window as if a child seeing it all for the first time. She clung to her husband's hand as they grew closer to the cabin, all of the guards fearing she would tumble out of its confines before they made a proper stop. But somehow King David was able to hold his wife back and the two of them were soon reunited with their children.

Sitting in the main room of the cabin, David had pulled his son to sit in his lap as Granny and Red both praised Emma for how helpful and giving she had been. Snow beamed with pride at this news as her daughter hung her blushing head at the words that were being spoken about her. Red and Granny both avoided discussion of Killian, though there were moments where Emma worried over the situation.

"I can't help but notice the number of ships in the harbor, Granny," David said as his son was beginning to fall asleep with his head on his father's chest. The boy had been up for the majority of the night in anticipation. "A number carrying the flags of no kingdom."

"I know you have your issues with pirates and plunderers," Granny said, accepting more tea from Red. "But their coin spends as well as the next man's. And for a business that is all that matters."

A gentle squeeze of his arm from Snow changed the topic back to happier subjects. However, it found its way back to Granny's health quickly. "Won't you please consider coming back with us," Snow beseeched her friends. "We have more than enough room and you could be pampered and cared for like never before. It would be our honor."

"And what would I do all day?" Granny said stubbornly. "I'm happy here."

After a simple but plentiful midday meal Emma noticed that her father had slipped outside to discuss the travel plans with the staff. His conversation had not included much in the way of the fate of King George other than to say that there was still much work to be done to unite the kingdoms. Emma feared that would send her father away more often, something she dreaded.

If her goodbye with Killian had been sad, the one with Red and Granny was on the same scale. Granny held her tight in a hug, making her promise to visit again soon. Red's words were more personal with a soft reminder that she was in fact a good woman and would someday make a fine queen. "Don't chase your desires," she said, her breath against Emma's ear. "They will come to you if they are the right fit."

From her seat across from her parents in the royal carriage, Emma tried not to appear too interested as they passed the ships in the harbor. Merchant and pirate ships far outnumbering those of the Royal Navy. David appeared very interested in that as well, but Snow remained the calmer one talking of old times she had spent in that same village as a young woman. Her nostalgia overtook David's practicality. "I seem to remember it was a good place to meet a handsome man and have a nice conversation over a pint of ale," she said warmly, raising an eyebrow at her daughter. "Did you find it to be the same?"

"Do I have reason to be jealous?" David asked, rescuing his daughter from the awkward question. "I thought your time here was plagued with finding a wolf not meeting eligible men at the local pub."

Snow smiled at her daughter, pulling the lap blanket over her bent legs. "I'm sure you had a lovely time while you were here. I hope perhaps you might tell us all about it, but for now I think I should like a nap. All of this traveling has been exhausting."

***AAA***

Henry clung to Regina as the carriage bumped along the narrow road, water from a recent rain splashing up and stained the doors of the vessel. Robin sat across from them, his dark haired son in his lap, playing with a carved horse and chattering about wanting to own his own someday.

"When you a wee bit older," Robin told him gently. The echo of his wife's confessions over the past few days were rumbling in his brain. She had admitted her own infertility, a result of her own magical spell. She told him how she had acquired her son through the Dark One, a small boy who had reminded her of her own father and she had fallen in love with immediately. And she had explained that while the Dark One had helped her in such a way, he had not given her many details of the boy's lineage or family. She simply didn't know and assumed them to be too poor to care for him or perhaps dead.

Stirring slightly, Henry muttered the word mama as he settled against Regina again. "I can't lose him," she said quietly. "Not after all this."

"You won't," Robin assured her. "We are going to see your stepdaughter. We're going to find a way to fight the Dark One together."

***AAA***

Emma slipped from her bed late the night that they arrived, her bare feet padding soundlessly on the thick rug between her bed and the desk by the window. Pulling out a sheet of fine parchment, she placed the tip of the pen in the ink and began to write her first letter to Killian. She had had thought of what she would say for the long hours of the trip, mentally writing and editing the text in her head so many times that she was not sure she even could remember what all she had wanted to say.

Most young princesses her age wrote letters, as that was a large part of even Snow's day. However, Emma had not really had occasion to write to men in her life. Most of her correspondence was limited to far away friends such as Elsa and Anna. This seemed different to write to Killian, as she could hardly discuss the latest social event or details of the dress that had been made for her.

She was debating a description of the weather when she heard the knock at her door. Frowning, she called out permission for entrance and was only partially surprised to see her mother steal into the room. Her mother was dressed in a soft white dressing gown, lace at the collar and sleeves that had been spun for her with her signature of birds and flowers in the pattern. Her hair down in a cascade of waves from the tight knot of braids that she usually wore, she looked much younger than her years.

"Mother, I hope I wasn't disturbing you," Emma said, putting aside her letter and turning to face the woman. "I tried to keep quiet."

"I was awake and noticed the light of a candle flickering in your room," her mother told her. "I thought this might be a good time for us to talk since your father is asleep and Leo has finally succumb to the same fate."

Since Emma had returned to the palace after having given birth, Snow had rarely been spontaneous with her visits to her daughter. It was common place for a queen to request an audience with her grown daughter through a handmaiden or other staff member, but Emma had missed the impulsiveness of her mother's visits and the way they had spent more than a few hours together without schedules and formality.

"I am glad that you did then," Emma said sincerely.

The Queen's eyes darted to the unfinished letter, but she gave no sign of her approval or disapproval of the action. Instead, she chose a seat on the chaise that had been a steady feature in the Princess's room for a long time. "I know that you are not one for compliments, but Granny and Red were quite grateful to you for your assistance. It is such a comfort to know that I can count on you."

Emma's hands fisted in the material of her own dressing gown, much simpler than the one her mother wore but still a soft white garb. "I am glad they were pleased."

Snow nodded again, holding herself in her regal position despite the informality of sitting in her own daughter's room. "They are quite special to me and when I learned I was expecting you, Red was one of the first people I told of the news. She was a natural choice for me to ask to become your godmother, though many thought that title should go to someone of nobility. Granny knitted your baby blanket right away and one night delivered it to the castle as though it could not have waited for daylight or even months later."

Emma had heard those stories before, heard how her mother had relied upon the Lucas women even more than other royal families. When the fate of the kingdom had been threatened by Regina, it was Granny and Red who had helped to devise a plan both for the once Evil Queen and for Emma's safety. Those used to be staples of the bedtime stories that Emma heard each night. "I appreciated the opportunity to get to know them better."

Snow seemed satisfied with that answer. "They are loyal and true friends," she continued, her legs crossed at her ankles as she sat there alternating her gaze from her blonde daughter to the open window beside the bed. "And they would never dishonor a confidence they shared with you. I hope you know that."

Knitting her brow together in confusion, Emma watched her mother shift uncomfortably. Usually her mother was not one to fidget and had scolded Emma for doing just that. "Of course they wouldn't," Emma said slowly, not understanding where her mother's conversation was going. "I know I can trust them."

"Young brothers are different though," Snow said, shedding some light on her train of thought. "Leo is excitable and so eager to have news to share that it just flows from him without regard for what one might wish was more private." Emma closed her eyes at the realization that her brother had spoken of Killian.

"Leo has said something to you." It was not a question as much as a statement, as Emma prepared herself for a stern talking to about a princess's duty and keeping her reputation intact. "I suppose I should explain and apologize."

Her mother did not look that severe as the Queen raised an eyebrow in question to her daughter's reaction. "He mentioned a new friend, who I admit I was surprised to learn was not a child. He seems to be more your age. The more that he discussed this friend, Killian, I realized that this man had been coming to call upon you while you were with Granny and Red."

Emma's mouth felt as though someone had poured saw dust into it. She only nodded, hoping that she did not look as distressed as she felt.

"I see," her mother said. "I would also be right in the assumption that he must be a sailor, as he gave your brother that carved boat to play with while he spent time with you?"

Again, Emma nodded her head wordlessly, though she chastised herself for not having realized her brother would have to explain the present when their parents saw it. She tried to open her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

"To hear your brother describe him, he must be a very kind gentleman," Snow said, obviously prodding for more information. When none came, she tried to disguise the disappointment in her expression with a kind smile. "I am pleased that you met someone who took care to see to you while you were there, Emma. This isn't an inquisition, though I can't guarantee your father won't say something when he learns of this."

Drawing in a breath, Emma knew that her mother was extending an olive branch in hopes that they could speak as they used to in this very room. She remembered well the conversation they had the night that she had met Baelfire. Her mother had not pried too much, but eaten up each detail that Emma had shared. "He is a captain of a ship," Emma said slowly, wondering if she could truly do justice to Killian with words. "I met him on my first visit to the village during a rainstorm."

Her mother's expression brightened and for a moment she looked as Emma imagined she had when she had sat with Red all those years ago and discussed Emma's father and Red's first love. The Queen wisely did not ask any questions, letting her daughter speak of a few minor details and a few more specific. She seemed grateful to get what she could get.

"I'm sure I sound like a fool," Emma said after she had described the scar at his cheek and how she had never even asked him about how he had gotten it.

"I would never call you such," her mother said, rising up from the chaise and crossing the room in a few steps. "The first time I saw your father I was in a pretty bad place. I was worried about him turning me in. I was concerned about where my next meal would come from. I shouldn't have noticed the way his hair didn't quite lay flat in that one spot. But for weeks after that first meeting that was all I saw when I pictured him."

Emma smiled at the thought of her mother having such a lovesick thought even while on the run from her stepmother. She reached over to the paper on her writing desk and sighed. "I was trying to write to him. He promised that he would write back and I suppose I was anxious."

Snow nodded her head slowly. "I suppose you thought your father and I would object for some reason, what with his not coming to meet us to properly ask after you."

Emma's eyes dropped from her mother's. "He is not the sort of man father would approve of," she admitted. "And I know that should deter me."

Snow did not seem surprised by that admission. "I don't know the reasoning for that, but I do know that few fathers approve of any man for their daughters. Your father is no different." She braced her long fingers on the sash of the window and looked down at the dark gardens below. "My father never met David, but I assure you that he would have found reason to disapprove. Though I'm not sure that would have deterred me."

It was Emma's turn to shift uncomfortably. "I don't know what my heart wants, Mom," Emma said, addressing the woman more informally than she had in some time. "I know that I feel good when I am around him and well, I kissed him…"

Snow tried to hide her expression by staring back out the window. "I suppose Red is the better one to discuss this with," she admitted. "She has more experience with this sort of thing. For your father was my first love." She gripped the window a bit tighter. "I can't even imagine how it must be for you with Baelfire gone. But surely he would understand. It was just a kiss."

"He's not just gone, mother. He left. He swore we would always be together and he left. That night when I went to go to him, he wasn't there. He…he disappeared."

Snow turned from the window and looked lovingly at her daughter. "Perhaps he will come back."

In that moment Snow looked more innocent and hopeful than Emma had ever felt. The soft glow of the candle only served to show that the Queen could not imagine the betrayal that Emma's heart had felt to learn that the man she had trusted and loved and left her. "I do not think that would matter," Emma said honestly. "I know that you and father were separated for quite some time, but it was different. It was not your choice. Baelfire chose to leave me. He chose to procure that magic bean. He chose to leave this realm, me, and his life here behind because of his father or whatever other reason he could come up with the time." Emma glanced again at the paper where she had begun the letter to Killian. "I wasn't enough. I wasn't enough to make him want to stay."

"Oh my dear, you are enough. You are more than enough." Snow wrapped her arms around herself, the cool breeze from the open window becoming a bit much for her. "Emma, Baelfire's father is hardly a normal parent. He's the Dark One and that surely drove him away, as it did as a child. There are no excuses for how he treated you by leaving you here alone with a child who you might have had to have raised on your own. But if you love him enough then perhaps…"

"You're right," Emma said, her eyes feeling heavy with her need for sleep. "There are no excuses for him. None at all. He grew up having escaped his years of stagnation on Neverland. He of all people would and should understand what it is like to be abandoned. Yet that is what he did to me. And no, Mother, there is no excuse. No matter what happens, I won't welcome him back into my life at all."

***AAA***

Killian was not sure how he got himself back aboard the Jolly Roger, as his memory was tainted with the taste of rum that had been his companion the night before. The birds were already beginning to chirp their morning song as peeled back the cover on his bed and sank into the mattress with his daily attire except his boots. He was not a fool, he reminded himself, at least not a lovesick one as he knew that Smee and the others were beginning to think.

Emma had brought out a more sentimental side to him, but that meant nothing in the scheme of things. He was a pirate and his focus was still singular in his quest to remove the power of the Dark One. She had been a lively distraction, more so than any wench or woman who he had shared a bed with in the past. She challenged him and made him seek ways to please her, including acting as a handyman for Granny and performing tasks that he would have never done himself in other circumstances. He had not even taken Granny's money when she had offered payment, telling her it was no trouble at all. Truthfully the only payment he wanted was the sweet smile of the Princess when she became aware of his actions. She had practically thrown herself into his arms, only prevented by her younger brother.

Light was beginning to come in through the widow's glass panes and a particularly bright shard of it pierced at his eyes. He moaned loudly, a noise that sounded vaguely like Emma's name. He had hoped that with her out of his sight and proximity that his life would return to some sense of normalcy. And yet she was still in his thoughts. His hand still felt the way her fingers laced with his. He could smell the scent of her, feel her hair tickle his arms like when she stood close. He could hear her calling his name out, the soft way it rolled off of her tongue like a song.

He had never been the type to daydream of a woman, no matter her beauty or character. Even when he had been with Milah there had not been that fantastical quality to it. She had been his, shared his bed, his heart, and his life until the Dark One had found them. And despite her last ditch efforts to appease the Crocodile's whims, she had fallen to the man's pride and power hungry ways. Her heart was crushed in front of him, leaving him alone and without his left hand to try to salvage what was left of his life.

The loss of her had darkened him, not with evil but with revenge. He had not stolen or killed for any other reason than to further his quest to avenge Milah's death. Then he could rest. Then he could think about the rest of his life, if that was even a possibility. He was well aware that his quest could kill him, but the thought of snuffing out his own life in the process of killing the Dark One was not all together unpleasant.

"Captain?"

Smee's voice broke through the haze of the alcohol's last remnants and the vision of Emma there in his quarters with her lips parted and her body against his. Gods, but his first mate had impeccable timing. Punching his pillow, Killian permitted the man to enter.

"Bloody hell, Smee, what can have you up and about at this hour?"

"Twenty of the men are missing," Smee informed. "Left to join up with Blackbeard."

"Good riddance to them," Killian muttered in a slurred tone. "Any man who sails on this ship will do so with loyalty and allegiance." He fell back onto the mattress, its corners rising up.

"We aren't sailing at all," Smee said under his breath, not sure that the Captain could hear him. Killian heard and raised an eyebrow. "The men are restless and you'll surely lose more if we don't do something."

"We must have the sail…"

"It's an excuse." Smee's boldness did not go unnoticed by the pirate, but he respected it in an odd way. "That enchanted sail is good when we need to fly, but it is not a necessity. We can…"

"See to finding a sail maker," Killian said. "We shall set sail tomorrow to strengthen our reserves. Then we shall strike at the Crocodile."

***AAA***

Emma's eyes were a bleary mess as she joined her parents and brother for breakfast, something she rarely did any more. The smile on her father's face encouraged her as she spread a bit of the marmalade on her toast and listened to her mother discuss the day's schedule with her father. There was something soothing about the way her mother could gently nudge her father into her way of thinking. Emma had learned that her mother used her wit and strategy rather than her wiles to do that, something she was very proud to know.

"I think we should consider paying a visit to Queen Elsa soon, as I'm sure that Emma would love to see her. And that trade agreement has not yet been signed," her father said between bites. "With spring here and summer coming, the ice will have melted and the snowpack lessened so the travel should be safe."

"Sounds like a lovely idea," Snow agreed, grinning at Leo and Emma. "Elsa and Anna are always gracious hosts. Perhaps your steward can see to us setting sail in a week or two? It would give us enough time to pack."

"A boat?" Leo asked, his eyes shining brightly at his big sister. "Like Killian's?"

Emma's mother looked at her consolingly at her daughter as David wiped his mouth with a linen napkin. "Killian?" he asked, not yet grasping who his son might be talking about.

"He's my friend and Emma's too," Leo answered happily. "He has a large ship. He's a captain."

Emma's eyes fluttered shut as she imagined stuffing a piece of bread into her brother's mouth to quiet him. Her father was already clearing his throat and she was letting the excuses for not having mentioned this man fly through her head.

"Emma," her father said in that terse yet gentle way he spoke to the royal guards before pounding into them some mistake they had made. "Care to give me a few more details of who this Killian is?"

Her green eyes opened to her father staring at her intently as her mother laid a single hand on his forearm in an effort to lull him. "It's like Leo said," Emma answered, her voice sounding nothing like her own. "He's a sailor who befriended us."

"A naval captain then?" David asked.

"Not exactly," Emma said, biting inside her cheek. "I believe he was a naval lieutenant at one point."

Snow squeezed her husband's arm to divert his attention to her. "Graham said he wanted to have a word with you this morning. You'd better hurry if you wish to be on time for that."

"Yes, well, I would like to hear more of your adventures with this captain," David said, gifting his daughter with a smile as well as a reprieve. "Perhaps later." Leaving his napkin folded on his chair, David pulled his wife into his embrace and heralded them down the hallway to ready for the meeting with Graham.

Emma dropped her forehead into the cradle of her hand and moaned. She could barely think of Killian without blushing and smiling at the memory. And here she had a mother and father questioning her and wanting to know things about him. How could she explain when she did not yet understand herself? They would expect labels and explanations. She had none.

"Does your head hurt?" Leo asked her innocently. "You don't look well."

"I'm perfectly well," she told him. "I only am dreading explaining about Killian to father."

The boy chewed quietly and thoughtfully, watching his sister carefully. "Why? Killian is perfectly nice and father says it is good to be nice. He was helpful fetching you to and fro each day. And father says it is good to be helpful. And he…"

"Fathers are particular about the men who are around their daughters," Emma explained to him. "Someday a girl's father might look at you that same way and not find you good enough."

The boy's eyes grew wider at the idea, his sandy colored hair falling in front of them. "Then I will have to prove myself so that father will like me. That's what Killian should do."

***AAA***

Snow sat at the desk with her eyes on the paper before her, writing another letter to a friend. She could tell from her husband's pacing that he was annoyed at being kept waiting. Graham was late, which would not serve him well with his request to revisit some of the laws he had described as barbaric. He'd been seeking an audience with the King for several months, each being postponed by this or that. So the idea that he was late was distressing to say the least.

"Are you sure it was today?" David asked, the leather of his boots slapping on the ground. "I know this is important, but we have so much to do to prepare for my father's kingdom. I'm still not sure what is the best route…"

The King's words were cut off as a harried and breathless Graham entered the room, bowing first to David and then to Snow in his haste. "I apologize for my tardiness, but I was detained by a guard who wished to speak to me. I have news to deliver."

"And what news is that?" David asked, forgoing his pacing for a moment. "Something dire?"

"Your highness," he said bowing to Snow again, ignoring her previous statements that he should not be so formal with her after having saved her life. "Your step-mother, is making her way to the castle. She is seeking you both out," Graham explained. Both men turned to Snow to see her reaction to the news.

"Does she mean us harm?" the Queen asked, her hands seeking to steady themselves by folding in her lap. "I have not heard from her in so long."

"I have not been informed of the reason for her arrival, only that she is desperate to see you, your highness." Graham frowned as he turned back to the King. "I took the liberty of asking the royal guards to assemble and make ready for your instructions. While she has been quiet for some time, I cannot foresee any good reason for her to come here. She must be in need or want of something very important."

As much as I like writing the budding relationship between Emma and Killian, I needed to move this story along a little. Don't worry. They'll be thrust into their adventure together soon. We need to get let everyone else caught up.