Killian had slept many places in his long life, but inside a guest room in a palace is not one he had ever planned to add to his list. It was not the fanciest of the accommodations, which he assumed were reserved for other royalty or dignitaries. But there is a bed and dresser, a table with a basin and pitcher to allow him to wash up, two chairs near a window that overlooks a small pond by the looks of a silvery moon overhead. Faded tapestries on the way indicated the infrequency of the chamber's use, but provided a block from the cool air that frequented the castles of that day.

He was in the far wing under the apartment or suite of rooms where Robin and Regina were located with the two boys. At the far end of the hall were Red and Granny's smaller suite. He would not have known what to do with such space.

While the bed linens appear to be fresher than those on his ship, two of the chambermaids silently entered the room and went to changing the sheets and blankets that smelled fresh from recent laundry. Not used to such service even from his crew, he bowed his head to hide a bit of the embarrassment of being doted over in that fashion and nearly missed the knock at his door of Emma.

"I wanted to see that you were being accommodated," she explained, a waif like woman behind. "I knew you had not packed or planned to stay but when mother insists…"

She looked quite rosy with her pink cheeks contrasting against her pale skin and golden hair. He could not help but be grateful that whoever had opened the room up for his stay had built a nice fire that played off her features and made her practically glow. "Your mother seems nearly as demanding as you, love," he said, then cringed with the realization he was being familiar with a woman in front of her servants. It would not do to have them disrespect or gossip about her in such a way that might undermine her authority. "But I am grateful for a bed."

"I thought you might be," Emma said, turning to gesture to the woman behind her. "We brought you a few things. I assumed you had no bedclothes with you since you traveled so light. And so I had some brought."

"Quite kind of you," he said, leaving any terms of endearment off. She directed the woman to place the items carefully and then instructed the other two about the curtains. He watched her, clearly in her trained element, and then remembered the way she had cut the meat of his meal and done so without so much as a word. "You like doing that, don't you?"

She whirled about to face him, her face carrying with it a surprised air. "You think I'm being bossy?" she asked. "It's not as though I was trying to be so direct. I just wanted things to be perfect for you. I wanted you to be comfortable."

"I had planned to make camp and sleep on the ground with my coat to cushion and protect me," he said. "I don't care about the bloody curtains." The maids mumbled about his language, but Emma did not seem so offended. "I only meant that you seem to like to take care of me."

Color rushes to her face as she again directs the servant she called Milly to dust off the surface of the table and another to bring fresh water in for the captain. "Is that so strange?" she asked when he thought she was going to ignore his observation completely. "You did very nice things for me during my stay with Red and Granny. Can I not repay the favor?"

His hand was bracing the back of his neck as though he might feel the stiffness settling into his muscles. "You owe me nothing," he said. "I am not here out of debt."

"You are here to fulfill this mission of yours," she answered her own question. "But after? When this is all done? What will you do then?"

His long leather coat is hanging in the wardrobe across the room, but his dark clothes still add to his menacing appearance. While they have that effect, Emma is not all together sure that it is the way that they enhance the blue of his eyes that makes him don them each day. "I'm not much for the planning of my life," he said. "And that seems a deep topic of conversation to have in this lovely bedchamber with servants who are probably wishing to retire to their own beds right now."

She moved two steps toward him, as though she might wish him a good night. She was still wearing the gown from dinner, but her hair was loosely falling over one shoulder. "My mother has requested that I see her in the morning in the solar for breakfast. Would you care to join us?"

"I shouldn't intrude," he said, shaking his head. "And your mother certainly wouldn't want to see me so early."

"Perhaps not," she said, her teeth raking across her bottom lip, "but I would like to see you."

***AAA***

She was not lying that her mother had requested a private breakfast, but she did not mention to him that her mother had asked him to attend as well. So as she paced in the space outside her parents' area of the castle, she is nervous and a bit worried that he would fail to appear. She shouldn't have worried, as he rounds the corner, the soft leather of his boots soundless on the stone floor and his hand tugging a bit at his collar. "New clothes," she said, her tone teasing since she had been there when they were dropped off for him the night before.

"Aye, they appeared with no clear explanation," he said, looking over her shoulder at the arched door that he assumed to be the parlor where Queen Snow is waiting. "I presumed you meant for me to wear them today."

"I only thought of your comfort," she said. She had selected dark pants and tunic for him, though not as detailed and menacing as his typical wardrobe. Her mother would likely say nothing of the change, but would appreciate the effort.

"Are you quite sure your mother won't mind my presence?" he asked, still staring at the door as if it might fly open. There is a hesitancy about his voice that isn't what she viewed as a normal part of his demeanor.

"My mother is anxious to have this all behind us," she explained. "The sooner the Dark One is dealt with the sooner Regina will leave and we can go back to normal."

Killian nodded his head slowly, gathering his thoughts and perhaps his courage as Emma took a deep breath of her own. "Why are your parents so intent on helping her if she is as bad as all that? Shouldn't they have thrown her out if they were that distrustful?" It was a question he had asked himself, remembering clearly the captain who his crew had captured and he had let go to return his wife and children. He knew that there would be repercussions of that, as his reputation was built on fear and not compassion.

"My parents see the good in people, sometimes to their own detriment," Emma said, not sure she could say the same for herself any more. In so much as her parents believed and hoped, she was guarded and jaded at times. Killian seemed to echo that with his own guardedness. "My mother's former step-mother is no different. They want to believe she has changed. And perhaps she has."

"You stood up for her," he reasoned, not sure that he could understand the Princess's theory that she was not able to trust when she so clearly could in certain circumstances. "About her magic."

Holding her head to one side, she twisted her mouth as though she was considering his statement. "If she is without magic, she is not of much use to us against the Dark One. Nobody knows him as well as she does, as she was trained by him. So it seems that our fear that she will succumb to the power of dark magic might be a bit misguided. I am not nearly as trained or practiced. And while she might be rusty, she is still going to know what to do."

"But your parents and the others believe you are more capable of drawing him out?" To see her there was to see a beautiful woman who did not look like a sorceress or witch. The idea that she could be as powerful to make the Dark One cower did not seem even possible.

"Something about a prophecy or a dream or something," the young Princess said dismissively. "Come along. My mother hates to be kept waiting."

The Queen did not look quite as regal as she did most mornings, her usual velvety soft gowns replaced by leather breeches and a filmy white tunic and bright yellow sash. Her boots were freshly shined though a bit worn and hair is not in its tight and intricately designed style, rather held back by a series of braids that knots at her head's crown and the remainder tumbling in dark waves down her back. When Emma smiled hesitantly at her, she rose to her feet to greet them, waving off Killian's stilted bow.

"I'm glad you could both make it," she said, accepting her daughter's kiss to her cheek. "I wanted to see what we could learn from Captain Jones."

Killian blushed a bit at the title. He had been Lieutenant Jones for such a short time. Shorter still was his time as Captain Jones before the Dark One had stolen his hand and crushed the heart of the woman he loved. Even in all the decades that had passed, Killian still felt the pang of those moments and even sharper were the memories of his brother when someone used the title Captain Jones. While he was technically a captain and his name was certainly Jones, the title doesn't feel earned to him.

"I'm afraid my news of the Dark One is sparse and not all that revealing," he said, following Emma's lead to sit in one of the chairs facing the royal woman ahead of him. "His lair is hidden from the sight of all who live here other than himself."

"A cloaking spell," Emma said knowingly. She reached out to pluck one of the sweet and cakelike pastry off the tray. "They are some of the easiest spells to cast."

Emma's mother, an older and duskier copy of her, smiled politely, running the dull end of the knife into the marmalade and over the toast. "I remember that Regina and her mother used them quite often." She chewed for a moment before turning to Killian, regarding the way that he book a bit of the fruit and popped a piece into his mouth. "How would a pirate come to know of a location of the Dark One? Forgive my question, but you must realize that the King and I are not ones to trust pirates. I think we can let go of the pretense for a moment and get to the heart of the matter."

Appearing as though she might scold her own mother for the question, Emma was silenced by Killian's friendly smile back to the dark haired royal. "Your highness, I have spent the better part of my life tracking down this monster of a man. It is pure coincidence that he happens to have made his home near you."

There was an air of skepticism as the woman sipped her tea, watching the pirate over the rim of her cup. "And your telling Emma this information? I don't know too many pirates who freely share information about the treasure they are on the verge of finding."

He'd been in a near staring contest with Emma, not necessarily cold but steady and sure. "Your daughter stated to me in much earnestness that a large part of her quest is to find this man who you fear is a danger to the lad and this kingdom. So long as he meets a just fate, I have no qualms about who delivers that blow, milady. He's a demon by all sense of the word. I am not under any illusion that I would survive an encounter with him."

The reality of Killian's statement felt like a rock in the stomach of the Princess. She swallowed and looked to him with pleading eyes that perhaps he did not need to do this. "Killian, you can't put yourself in harm's way out of revenge."

"So you picture yourself a martyr," Snow responded. "Either that or a man with a death wish. I don't find use for either when it comes to protecting my daughter and the lot of us. We need people who believe in this. Who believe we can succeed."

Killian could not help but the swell of pride he felt when he saw Emma glare at her mother. Standing up to ones' parents was hard, but he could only imagine it if said parents were the leaders of the kingdom. People in their realm put their lives in the hands of these royals. They surely had little use for a daughter who was impertinent or distrusting of their plans. "I simply see that we can help each other, your majesty. There is no trick to it, nor a reward that I am waiting to claim. I believe that knowledge is power so I offered your daughter my recognizance merely as a way to assist her in this quest you have deigned for her."

Emma's eyes shut and she took in a breath, his concern for her not lost on the princess. "Mother, I know that you are a trusting sort. You have always told me that people are truly good if given the opportunity."

Snow practically choked on the sweet tasting treat she had just swallowed. "I don't think I've ever quite trusted a pirate, especially when it comes to the safety of my daughter and this kingdom. Forgive me, but this is not quite that simple."

Tuning out as Emma reminded her mother again that welcoming Regina into her home was a sign of trust, as was considering alliances with other kingdoms that had not always been as friendly. Killian considered the story Emma had shared with him before of her parents untraditional courtship and early marriage that had been plagued with trials and battles. One moment in the tale stuck out to him, as he recalled her telling him of her mother's plans to escape had included passage on a pirate ship. Once Emma had exhausted her pleas and her mother appeared to be drained from the thoughts, he smiled and reached for another of the bites of fruit. "Your highness," he said, breaking the tension that had built between mother and daughter. "I was thinking about your fear to trust me as a pirate. I realize that we are not a trustworthy sort, especially considering your history."

The dark haired woman scoffed, sitting back against the petite chair and eyeing him suspiciously. "I hardly think you know of my history with any pirate, Captain."

"Perhaps not in great detail," he conceded, "but your lovely daughter shared a few tidbits with me in our discussions. She mentioned that you sought passage out of the Enchanted Forest and attempted to barter with some jewels you had obtained." Holding up his hand as if to inspect it, he smiled again. "We pirates do tend to be proud of our little baubles and trinkets, as do many queens and princesses. It's something we share in common."

Patience wearing thin, Snow White's mouth drew in like she had eaten something sour. "I'm sure that our tastes are somewhat different."

"Yes, but I recall tale of a bandit who was wanted by the Evil Queen some years ago," he said, brow raised in contrast to Emma's furrowed one. "She was making a deal with a pirate by the name of Blackbeard. Detestable fellow and hardly a man of good breeding or value. I don't know the conditions of your deal, but I would assume he tricked you. He's not known for good form, especially in dealing."

The Queen's features softened slightly before pulling them tight again. "You sound as though you know him, Captain."

"Better than I wish," Killian said with a minute shake of his head. "The man has sought to capture my ship on numerous occasions and has wished harm on my crew and myself. He's not the sort to be trusted." He added a few of the man's deeds, shielding the female audience from some of the more violent moments. After some of their more colorful conversations, Emma was probably fine with whatever story he might share, but he was not as sure about the Queen. Still Emma echoed her mother's shock at the horrible nature of this man.

The Queen mulled that over as she drank from the tea that was now merely lukewarm, tapping a finger on the hand painted flowers that were a perfect mixture of cornflower blue and sea green. Lowering it slowly, she looked first to her daughter and then to Killian. "Is there such a thing as a trustworthy marauder?"

Killian was still searching for the answer to that when Emma interrupted. "I think there is, Mother. After all, you were a bandit and yet still deserving of trust."

***AAA***

The reason for the Queen's attire became clear after breakfast when she and Granny whisked Emma away to practice her archery and crossbow skills. David and Robin followed to offer advice, though it was clear that Emma was listening more to the women at that point.

"Drop your chin a bit and you'll have better control," Snow White said, tilting her head to study her daughter's form. "Don't close your eyes."

The Princess seemed to be heeding the women's advice as she hit a series of the targets with no trouble at all. She was trying not to smile, not to show pride in her accomplishment, but the edges of her mouth did turn up slightly and her cheeks were rosy. When her mother suggested a break, she gave a short nod and was quickly surrounded by her father and Robin offering more advice to her. This time she listened and mimicked the stance Robin was teaching her.

Killian saw none of this as Elsa had captured his attention that morning and asked for him to help her as she scouted the area around the palace for what she would need. "I've never been much for spells and the like," she explained to him, her voice short and clipped. "My magic came naturally and I did not seek to enhance it. Quite the opposite actually."

"But you think this is necessary," he surmised. "Are there truly magical ingredients just waiting for procurement here on the property?" She assured him these are quite ordinary items and there was no worry that anyone would anticipate what their need of them.

"Yes, Regina does actually. She's the one who gave me a list of items that we might need. That Emma might need."

He did not mention his thoughts on trusting or not trusting the former queen, leaving that to Emma and her family to decide. The two of them darted into a few of the outer buildings for their wares. He was struck by the similarities that were shared by both the blonde women, as they moved and spoke in the same manner. However, Elsa's voice was always steady with its soft and melodic tone. Emma's voice often pulled the curtain back on her royal façade, allowing brief glimpses into her inner sanctum.

"You must think this plan thought up by the King and Queen is worthwhile to have left your kingdom to assist with it," Killian said, his eyes not missing the slight stutter in her step as he questioned her.

"King David and Queen Snow have been ardent supporters of my kingdom and helped my people when I was too young to fully understand the rule of law. They are beloved just as my parents were so of course I trust them." She looked back at the shadow of the palace against the crisp and clear spring day that stood in contrast to the rain before. "I realize that you are concerned for Emma's safety, but they won't let harm come to her."

"Anyone who comes into contact with the bloody Crocodile is at risk," Killian asserted, hefting the bag of their bounty higher on his shoulder. "But I do understand that their intent is not to put her in mortal danger."

Elsa stopped at the garden gate, inspecting the leaves of the newly bloomed plants carefully. Her eyes appeared like crystal as she studied the curvature and color of each piece of foliage. He didn't ask her what she was seeking, knowing that it would probably be lost on him anyway. "I've never seen him before, only heard tale," she said, once again making Killian realize that she was probably mulling over the situation the entire time in her mind. "My sister has dealt with him though."

"And lived to tell the tale," he surmised.

"Yes, you would have to meet her to fully understand, but Anna is different than most princesses. She came here to Mist Haven not long after our parents passed away. She was seeking information about…well, she arrived and was somehow in front of this imp of a man as she calls him. There are few men or women my sister hates or despises, but he is one of them."

"I don't question your sister's taste in that regard," Killian said, holding out a clean piece of muslin for the woman to wrap her selected leaves into for safe transport.

"When she spoke to me about him, she explained that he has unwieldy power and such a lack of a conscience that it makes him quite dangerous. That is hardly news to you, I'm sure." The man's dark head bobbed with affirmation. "But she told me something that may be of use, something that I have not yet spoken to the King and Queen about at length."

Her drift off into silence indicated that she was not yet sure of him or his constancy. Dropping her voice to softer timbre, she leaned in a little closer so as to let him hear and ward off eavesdroppers from the palace staff at any of the outbuildings. "There's a dagger. It's said to be the crux of the Dark One and someone possessing it can control him."

Killian had heard tales of it too, but never seen the actual weapon. From the earnestness in the Queen's tone, it was clear that she had solid reasons to believe in its existence. "And you have seen it," he said, his face scrunching in scrutiny and question. "This dagger that controls him?"

"No," she admitted, her lips thinning. "My sister has not only seen it but held it. I have no reason to doubt her word."

"Aye, I would think her a solid source for you," he said thoughtfully. "Does she know its whereabouts now?"

Elsa's hair was tied in a series of braids that converged at the nape of her neck, but a strand had worked its way loose to wisp across her forehead. She pushed at it, frowning intensely. "No, that seems to be an issue. But surely knowing that it exists may help us. It may be what Emma needs."

The path before them was more uneven than the rest, requiring more of their concentration. "Why have you not told Emma or her parents of this item?"

"I will. I have not had the opportunity of late, but thought that I might discuss the matter with you."

Killian nodded, his eyes training on the palace ahead. "It may be just what we need, your majesty."