I hate ff writers who apologize for the delay, but I must apologize. It has been a rough few weeks. I have quit my job over some creative differences, battled illness and a few tests in the hospital, and lost my sweet young cousin in a car accident. While there are good things happening in my life and announcements that I hope to make soon, I'm just going to post my chapter here and hope that you enjoy it. There are some parts you might find vague, but there is good reason. I hope you enjoy!

"I can't help but worry," David said as his daughter's hand closed over his and the first notes of the familiar melody rang out through the long banquet hall. "We may be underestimating him."

"It is too late to go back now," Emma said, her lips barely moving and her voice low. She had never felt as nervous as she did waiting on the Dark One to appear, counting her moments of peace down. However, the fact that she was at her parents' ball with Killian almost constantly at her side was not lost on her. She usually reserved herself to observe, dancing with her father a few times or maybe one of her honorary uncles if she was feeling sociable. She had shared dozens of dances with her father, to the point that they no longer seemed distinct. In that moment, it did feel different.

Looking reminiscent and wistful, the King performed the next steps gracefully. "Your grandmother was so troubled by the Dark One's powers that she would never utter his name. She would just get this look in her eyes and you knew who she was speaking of then."

David always seemed wistfully happy when he spoke of his mother, the woman who had raised him and taught him to be the man he was today. She had, according to the stories he had told his daughter, been a formidable woman with a heart of gold. She accepted no guff from anyone, least of all her son. When she met Snow, she had been determined to see them married and made sure that her son was happy before departing the earth. "I can't imagine she was afraid of anyone," Emma said, not sure how to reconcile that information with the stories she had been told.

"Few aren't afraid of him." Changing the topic as the choreography led them closer to where Killian and the Queen stood on the sidelines, David spun his daughter in place, the folds of her skirt landing back into formation. "You care for the pirate?"

It was just a five word question, simple enough and easily enough answered. Her father wanted her to say no. He wanted her to say that she was merely amusing herself or using him to fight the Dark One. But deep down he knew. He had to know, as he would not have asked otherwise. "Yes, Papa, I do care for him. I know that probably disappoints you."

To her surprise, the King's face gave way to a little smile. "I am impressed that you feel strongly enough to tell me. You probably would have baldly denied it if there was any doubt in you."

Rendering her speechless for a moment, she averted her eyes from the man in question, chewing at her lip. When she was finally able to speak, she did so after a deep sigh. "I did not mean to care for him. I know you had other hopes for me."

Affectionately, her father squeezed her smaller hand. "Emma, you are a grown woman. While I wish I could protect you from every pain and hurt, including heartbreak, I cannot do such without being a tyrant. If you care for this man as I suspect he cares for you, I can do little to stop it. Your mother has taught me that love finds a way past obstacles, no matter how hopeless the situation. I only ask that you don't act rash or without thought. It is no reflection on you, but in our family we do have that trait."

Emma laughed as she spun to face her father in time with the music. "He does too," she confided. "In fact, he reminds me of you."

David groaned. "This is not what I wish to hear, Emma. I don't want to imagine a day when you travel off with him and forget your life here."

"I could not forget my family or my responsibility," Emma said with a determined tone. "I'm not about to run away from that."

"Good to know."

***AAA***

Her gown's skirt was the perfect fullness for dancing, Killian observed as Emma and her father had a moment together on the polished wooden floor. It twirled around her, sometimes having to catch up in some of the more frantic moments of the choreography. Her blonde hair coiled effortlessly and her eyes were bright even to his vision from part way across the room. The only dark spot on the moment was the internal voice that told him she was far too good for a man like him. He knew he should squash it if he had any hope of winning over her parents to his side, but that was a hard proposition for a man whose self-loathing had made him the man he was.

"Emma used to demand that her father teach her to dance," Snow mused, having slipped back inside the ball room from checking on the three young boys and their guards of soldiers, fairies, and a nanny. "She was a natural, but still she wanted to practice all the time."

"She moves quite effortlessly," Killian noted. He had already been lucky to share three dances with her, well aware that the very act of her monogamy had the tongues of the other attendees wagging. When she had accepted her father's invitation, she had quite flirtatiously and boldly told the pirate that he shouldn't go too far, as she wished for more time with him.

"I think she may feel safe with you." Emma's mother was almost as perceptive as her daughter, seeing through the words to the meaning behind them. "God knows she has always wanted to feel safe."

"I think that is a request of many of us," Killian said with a shrug. "What good is happiness or any other emotion if we cannot seem to stop looking over our shoulders?"

Snow could have easily told him of her own thoughts on the subject, having spent the first years of her marriage convinced that Regina would somehow regain her magic and return to power. Yet that memory did not seem to fit in light of the fact that the former queen was now in conversation with her husband and had moments earlier been sipping on champagne after a toast they had shared.

Killian took the Queen's silence as a rebuke of his intentions and quickly tried to rectify the situation. "You know that I have no greater responsibility than to protect your daughter. I would not let harm come to her so long as I…"

Flicking a hand at his babbling, Snow smiled sweetly. "Your intentions toward Emma are more my husband's concern," she said. "I am not one to think that my daughter is helpless or in need of protecting. She has a strong penchant for doing that herself."

"Aye, she does, but I don't wish you to think that I…"

"I don't," Snow answered quickly, dipping her head in recognition as another of the royal couples from a neighboring land walked by. They had already greeted all the guests, but decorum dictated that one show familiar recognition at people of the same station. There was no emotion in the eyes of either party, Killian had realized quickly. In fact, they were barely going through the motions. Snow was obviously preoccupied with the Dark One's lack of an appearance. Nobody in the know wanted to say anything, but the fear was palpable that perhaps he was not going to behave as planned. Everyone out of the loop seemed more interested that the long feud between Regina and Snow seemed to have reached a truce with the dark haired women both in the ballroom.

Following a sharp crescendo of the music, the dancers stopped, bowing and curtseying to their partners with exaggerated depth. Emma was laughing at something her father said, her hands knotted fiercely at her waist in a stance that beguiled her easy laughter. Pushing her way through the throngs of dancers without waiting for her father's arm, she crossed the floor to wear Killian and her mother were standing. "He's not here," she hissed. "Why…"

Another couple walked a bit too closely for the conversation to continue, leaving them to smile pleasantly and Killian to repeat the now trite line about enjoying the music. He'd said it so often when someone came a bit too close for conversation that Emma couldn't help but giggle at the insincerity of his words. David, having managed to steal his wife away for the next dance, had smiled affectionately at his daughter before leaving her in the company of the pirate.

"Your father has not made good on his promises of bodily harm," Killian teased as Emma gestured for them to sit out the next dance. "I am most appreciative of whatever you might have said to postpone or dissuade such thoughts."

"You are not frightened of him, are you?"

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Killian reminded himself of his former life as a naval officer. Before the promotions and days at sea with his brother, he had stood in formation with the other men, being inspected, judged, and valued by any dignitary daring to look. He had felt no less unnerved as he did when David had seen him enter the room with Emma on his arm. "I am not used to interacting with the parents of a lass. Frightened might be an overstatement. It is more that I am a bit off balance."

"Too off balance to share another dance?" Her eyes twinkled merrily as he chuckled and took her hand in his, pulling it to his lips and brushing against her knuckles.

"You are doing brilliantly, love," he assured her. "You appear much more at ease than your friend, the Queen."

Both of them watched Elsa politely dissuade another of the noble suitors that approached her. While she had many years before learned to control her magic, Elsa knew that emotional outbursts were her downfall. She had to remain without distraction.

"I should go to her," Emma admitted reluctantly, "but we promised not to hover. It would be too obvious. I wish this was all over and we were holding this ball in celebration of his demise."

Cocking his head to the side and running the pad of his thumb over the smoothness of her hand, he smiled. "And what would the Princess like to do so different than this? Would you prefer to have a variety of partners to dance with or indulge a bit in the wine that your mother had brought up from the reserves?"

"You shouldn't be jealous." She giggled a bit at his stuttering denial and placed a finger over his lips. "I'll tell you. If I wasn't waiting on him to appear, I'd be hoping that you would escort me on a walk through my mother's gardens. Perhaps it would be slightly chilly and I would need to wear your coat to keep me from becoming ill."

Pursing his lips to kiss the long finger, he smiled against the digit. "I would in an instant, love. If you should request it, I would steal you away and sail off to protect you from the Dark One or any other unsightly beast."

"If it wasn't for my family, my kingdom, and that little boy needing me to succeed, I would ask you to do just that."

Someone nearby laughed a little too heartily at a joke and the scent of truffles and pastry cream tickled their noses. The bright colors of the tapestries and coats of arms on the walls seemed to dance along with the guests, mixing in and out of Emma's senses.

"You care for the boy?" Killian asked, a hint of confusion rising in his voice. "Like your brother?"

"He's a sweet child," Emma tried to explain, unsure of the connection herself. "So smart and so brave. I should like to think that he will be safe in his mother's arms after this."

***AAA***

While each of the players had created their own excuses inside their heads for why the Dark One had yet to appear, Emma was sure that he was close. Call it a hunch or a sixth sense, Emma could feel him getting closer. Though she said nothing and continued to dance and talk with Killian, taking momentary breaks to sit and catch her breath as he offered to fetch her a drink or simply held her hand, she felt the nearness of evil as surely as she was alive.

Leaning in to whisper to him, Emma's breath was warm on his skin. "Promise me you won't do anything foolish."

He appeared startled at her instructions. "I don't know what you mean," he said in a faux innocence that pinged off her ability to see a lie. "I'm rarely a fool."

"When the Dark One gets here," she clarified for no reason other than to ensure he knew what she was saying without question. "When he arrives don't try anything stupid like running him through with your sword. I know you want vengeance, but the man is afflicted with the curse of the Dark One. Immortality is one of the implications. It would do nothing but call attention to your weaknesses and put you in his sights."

Killian swallowed hard, remembering well his attempt to kill the man before and failing miserably. He had not acted in anything but emotion and anger, hoping to inflict the same sort of pain he had just felt. However, he had ended up with his hand gone and hovering near death for days as the Crocodile escaped with nary a scratch. "I will do nothing that is in retaliation," he assured her. "However, should he be poised to hurt you, I will not stand and watch helplessly."

"I can save myself," she protested. "I did not wish you here to protect me."

"And yet I am here," he answered cheekily. "Dare I ask why?"

She did not answer, standing abruptly and letting the small plate of pastries fall to the floor with a clatter. Killian was instantly at her side, his hand resting on the handle of his sword as she eyed the figure walked down the center aisle and sending the dancers scurrying with just his springy walk. Placing her own hand on Killian's, she hissed for him to step back away from her, repeating it when it seemed he might not answer.

Regina must have seen him even faster than the others, as she was nearing him when she had been across the room with Robin earlier. Her features were grim as she greeted him, telling him that he was wasting his time. "You must know that everyone with magic will fight for the protection of my son," she announced haughtily.

"Your son was simply a loan to you," the man's manic tone punctuating each word. He kept his eyes primed on the room. When three of the King's guards got a bit too close he waved his hand and sent them backward with so much force that they only stopped when coming into brutal contact with the stone wall. "Besides, I could have already taken him. I wanted to see her. I wanted to see the Savior."

The knot in Emma's stomach grew bigger as she took another step closer. She and Elsa were measuring their movements to match pace. Regina had already told her that Rumpelstiltskin had been watching her from before her birth, establishing that she would be the one that could have ended the curse that would have ripped them all from their lives. "He has a strong interest in you," she had explained over tea that day. "Unhealthy since he is also afraid of you and the power that comes to you naturally."

Elsa stepped forward past a nearly frozen man and woman who had been dancing. "We know you're here for Henry," she said without bothering to introduce herself. "No sense in pretending otherwise."

Looking annoyed, the man whose skin glittered in the light of the lanterns, candles, and torches, giggled and turned his head toward the silent Emma. He knew that she was assessing him, cataloging his every feature to later compare to that of her first love. Could she see anything of Baelfire in him? "You should know better than to try to sneak up on a man who can foresee the future and knows more about the past than you'll ever manage."

The slight hiccough sound she made was nearly a scoff, at least she hoped it came out that way. "I'm merely trying to get closer so that we might talk," she said as if he were one of the subjects upset about some new tax or in disagreement over a property line. Her father had taught her to approach them similarly. "I wasn't aware that you were invited here tonight."

His laugh was high pitched and tinged with disdain. "I do believe this all," he began with a flourishing spin, "was planned for me. You wanted me here, right? Wanted to teach me a lesson."

"If I wanted you here, you would have been invited," she returned, noting that Regina had already signaled to Snow to move out of the room while they kept him occupied. It was time to send a messenger bird to the band waiting to invade his home. And there were the children to think about as well.

"So formal," he said, his nose wrinkling as though the idea was preposterous. "Regina is well aware of why I'm here. Aren't you, dearie?" He kept his eyes on Emma, not bothering to look toward the former queen despite talking to her. It was clear that the very crowded nature of the room was bothering him. He knew the occupants and seemed to be deciding who to torture first.

"If you wanted him so much, you would have already taken him." Regina was not one to show her fear and unlike Emma seemed much more confident as she faced this man.

"Emma," he said, his voice pouring over her name. "You like to read, don't you, dearie. You enjoy a good book. I've seen the libraries here. You probably curl up in a window seat on a rainy day and read until the words blur on the page, don't you?"

She did love to read, but why that seemed to matter to him she wasn't sure. Shaking off the confused haze he was trying to create, she pursed her lips. "I think you need to explain yourself. You have been threatening a child. That's not something that we condone in this kingdom." It came out like she was scolding a child and not challenging the Dark One. Despite his known immortality, the royal archers lined the balconies of the second and third floor. Swordsmen were advancing, just waiting for the King or Princess to give the signal. Each time one moved, Rumpelstiltskin would wiggle his fingers or flick his wrist to send them back, occasionally holding one by the throat magically until the flailing stopped and he dropped the man to the ground.

"This is quite tiresome," he said finally bringing his hands together and then apart in a giant circle, everyone except the three women with magic froze in place. "Better."

"What is it that you want?" Emma asked, trying to ignore the helpless feeling at seeing everyone in mid breath. "It can't just be Henry."

"I want my son," he explained as though it should be obvious. "I want Bae to come home to me."

Regina shook her head incredulously, ignoring the obvious trap and walking toward him. "How can my son bring back your son? That makes no sense."

Emma felt a bit of bile burning the back of her throat as she recognized the arrogant grin upon the man's face, one that his son had inherited. Baelfire was his father's son in so many ways, but that did not make him the same evil menace. Her first love had worn that same expression when they had played cards beneath a tree on a hot summer day, biting back his laughter at his winning hand. He had worn it again when she had confessed she loved him, telling her that he already knew of her feelings. But Baelfire had not succumb to the darkened desires of his father's quest for power. He had been afraid of it, afraid of the magic that consumed him. He had begged Emma to forego her own powers, telling her of his desire to live in a land without magic.

"He's gone," Emma said, interrupting the man's cackle at Regina's questions. "Baelfire is gone. He left us all because of you and your magic."

"And you think that yours did not frighten him?" Rumpelstiltskin crowed loudly. "I was a known entity to my son, a known factor in his life. You were not. He ran from you, abandoned you."

"This is not an argument that either of us can win," Emma countered with a pang. "I'm just wishing to understand your purpose here. You want Henry. You have a contract with Regina that you can take him. Why not just take him? Why does she have to hand him over to you?"

***AAA**

Red paced in front of the door of the monstrosity that was usually hidden, her paws sinking into the damp earth under her weight. The two posted guards had put up little fight as she had approached, one nearly wetting himself from the sight of the giant wolf. Granny had accompanied three of the merry men into the long hallway, another gaggle of men taking the other route as she waited impatiently for them to return. Only Graham was with her, his voice soothing despite the odd circumstances.

Had she been gifted with the ability to talk in her wolf state, she might have told him that his soothing was unnecessary. Still it was comforting that he would sit there on the low wall and stroke at a bit of the fur atop of her head as he spoke.

When Granny emerged a few minutes later with a box tucked under her arm, Red almost didn't notice the dark haired beauty behind her. Looking rather meek and a bit overwhelmed, the woman took two steps to each of the merry men's one as she hurried out the door.

"He's not going to be hurt, is he?" she asked when Granny pointed for Graham to let the woman ride one of the horses tied nearby. "He has a good heart."

The woman, Belle, was so focused on getting her answer that she did not even seem to notice the wolf that even made the strangely named Little John jump as though he had forgotten her fierceness. Nobody answered her at first, helping Granny secure the package on the saddle of one of the other horses and scouring the lower branches of the trees for sight of another of Queen Snow's birds that might have instructions or warnings for them.

The older woman threw the red cloak over her granddaughter's shoulders and again sent the brunette into human form. As she usually did after the transformation, Red stretched her back and arms as though she was a bit sore from the experience and blinked a few times at the crowd that was pretending her duality was something normal and expected. "Did you get it?"

"That's to be seen," the woman said with a wary glance toward Belle. "She tells us that he secures his dagger in that box. It's locked and unable to be opened by anyone but him. Some sort of magic."

"If nobody can open it, what's the point?" Red waited as her grandmother was secure in her mount before joining the others. "We failed."

***AAA***

Snow crept back down the staircase as though the sound of her footsteps might somehow thwart the attempts to overpower the Dark One. As they had planned, she was to complete two tasks. First she had sent the bird with its message that Rumpelstiltskin had arrived and second she was to barricade the children with a vial of the magic potion that Regina had mixed to protect them. While they were guarded by the finest of guards and soldiers, as well as Johanna, two of the dwarfs, and one of the servants, Regina had said that the potion would be an added layer of defense. Its powers were temporary and therefore it was necessary to delay them until needed.

The lack of music and merriment or even mumbled conversation scared Snow a bit as she arrived on the ground floor where the ball was taking place. Only Rumpelstiltskin's maniacal laugh seemed to penetrate. David had told her to avoid coming back, suggesting that she wait with the children. Her reaction had been as he had expected, defiantly challenging him and threatening to take over the mission herself. Her long skirts were not as full as she would have normally worn and her trousers underneath would be what she wore if this battle grew to the levels that she would need to participate.

With soft steps, she stealthily managed to take refuge behind one of the tall columns at the end of the room. The sight of all the revelers in a frozen state was disconcerting, but taking a page from her bandit days she became more myopic in her focus. Her daughter, Regina and Elsa were in position, each taking turns at speaking to the Dark One. It had been their intention to keep his attention on the move rather than allowing him to become too comfortable. Most of the guards were lying on the ground, having been pushed back by magic, which they had assumed he would use. She could see her husband and Killian both to the side with their hands poised toward raising swords. They had clearly been frozen in midaction of protecting the others.

"You can't fix that now," she told herself, reaching noiselessly for the quiver she left just out of sight for this occasion. Regina had said to her that they needed the contract out of the man's hands. He would not likely hand it over and whatever method they used would only be temporary.

Trying to hold her breath so as not to make a single sound, she waited and watched as her daughter, former stepmother, and daughter's friend each set the plan in motion.

From her vantage point she could see her daughter's profile, the graceful slope of her neck and the soft curve upward of her nose. "You've had your chance, Dark One," she said with a forceful wave of her arm. "Explain yourself to us or we will…"

"Will what?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, immediately amused by the thought. "You're a mere novice and the Queen is too distracted to do any real harm. And Regina…well, Regina learned everything from me. She can't defeat me. A student can surpass, but only in rare circumstances."

The argument went circular and for a moment serpentine with Emma and Regina demanding to know why Henry and Elsa taunting with information gleaned from her sister. There were scary moments for the mother of the princess when the man blew her back magically for having advanced too far and too fast. She almost made her presence known then but waited as Regina blasted back and her daughter clambered cat like to her feet. For a moment the Queen was transported back in time to see her daughter fall from one of the garden walls. While other children would have wailed in pain, Emma had picked herself up and tried to scale it again.

Her moment came just seconds later when after the near begging, the Dark One pulled the scroll from beneath the fashioned jacket and unfurled it with a flick of his narrow wrist. Edges were a bit worn but the scrawling signatures were obvious. It was clear that the man was gloating, probably not even using the power that would have warned him of Snow's presence. That was why the first arrow flew so close to him unnoticed, piercing the scroll and pinning it to the painting at Regina's left.

She had no time to celebrate as she deftly fished another out of her quiver and loaded it. It sailed straight at him only for him to catch it. She could have sworn she heard him hiss as he broke it in his hand and stared into the dimmer shadows to find the assailant.

The time was enough and Emma grabbed the scroll, throwing the arrow down on the ground. By the time he gave up his search and returned his attention they were silently celebrating the move. "No matter," he continued gleefully. "The contract is more than a piece of paper and quite more resilient too." With another flick of his wrist he set the parchment ablaze, causing Emma to drop it hastily. "You will deliver me the child. There is no more time to waste."

"I won't," Regina said defiantly, sounding more teenager than formidable foe.

Clearly bored with arguing for his rights, the man is on the move again, a hopping step to the right and sending smoke in direction of Robin. "Incentive," he said jovially. Robin, still frozen in place was now beside David. "You have three minds about you that don't seem to care about reason and logic, but perhaps this might do the trick."

Responding to his waving hand, the thick rope that held up the round chandelier of blazing candles swung precariously close to the flames. To Emma and Regina's horror, it began to smoke and then orange and red glow of the fire on the braided strands became more evident.

"Think quickly," he said with a tilt of his head. "Time is of the essence."

One more note, I've had a few people ask about Henry. His true paternity will be revealed. As a matter of fact, that will be happening in the next chapter. Any ideas on how I plan to do it? I have been setting it up and brought us right to the brink of it with this chapter.

Love to read your thoughts and comments!