#cssns2k19

Even after years of being together, Killian couldn’t ask for a better partner, for a better soulmate. In these two years as a wolf, he had learned what the saying “they mate for life” meant. His wolf - Fenrir, as she loved to call him - always threatened to take over, and sometimes it did. Fortunately, it had never attacked a human being, but it didn’t make Killian fear the wolf less. The half-life he led allowed him to keep himself sane, to not fall prey of the wolf’s most animalistic needs, but even in canine form, Killian knew he had to protect Emma, that it was his duty to stay by her side and watch over her. Rationally, he knew his wife could be her own savior, but there would always be a part of him, human or animal, that would fight tooth and nail to keep her safe.

The wolf didn’t know Henry, but Killian was sure it would recognize him. The curse was diabolical and he would’ve probably lost himself had he not had a purpose: his love for his family had been his North star through hell, and now he had the chance to put an end to it, once and for all.

The sun would set soon, he could feel the tendrils of the curse wrap around his bones, ready to break and rearrange them. His skin prickled, and he fought the impulse to scratch his arm.

Standing next to him, Henry was looking at the lake in front of them. Emma had decided to stay beside their son and not to take a swim. Killian wasn’t sure it would work, but he had to try.

It was Henry who broke the silence. «Why are we here?» he asked slowly, hazel eyes stealing a glance at his father’s profile.

Killian released a sigh through his teeth, the hand that wasn’t placed on his son’s shoulder clenching into a fist. «If we want to defeat Regina, we will need a suitable weapon.» It was so strange for him to talk about it, to explain who he was to his own son. Part of him worried that Henry would resent him for not telling him the truth sooner. He drew in a deep breath, turning to face Henry.

«When I was eleven, before I came here, your Grandmother brought Liam and me to visit the castle of Tintagel, our last family trip in England before crossing the pond.»

Henry furrowed his eyebrows, his nose scrunching up slightly like Emma’s. Killian felt a twinge in his chest. «Isn’t that the place historians believe to be King Arthur’s castle?»

My boy, so bright for his age, Killian thought with a sudden surge of pride. «Aye,» he replied, incapable of stopping himself from ruffling the boy’s hair. Then, he sighed. «We were having lunch near what they call Merlin’s cave, a wonderful place which opens on the sea. Mum had prepared sandwiches for our little trip, but Liam and I couldn’t stay put, continuously pranking each other.» He stopped again, scratching at his jaw, wondering how to explain what had happened next. «At some point, I ended up falling in the water, knees scraped and slightly bleeding. It was then that-»

Killian swallowed, shaking his head. No, although his son did believe in magic, there was only so much that he could accept. Taking another deep breath, Killian knew what the had to do.

«It’s best if I show you.» Hoping that it will work again.

From the inner pocket of his leather jacket, he pulled out a switchblade and walked to the shore of the small lake. Henry followed suit, curious as ever, and so did Emma.

The slight discomfort of the blade slicing his palm open made him shiver, a passing pain that helped amplify the tension he was feeling. He extended his arm out, tightening his fist to let a few droplets of blood fall into the dark waters below.

At first, nothing happened, the water stopped rippling the moment it swallowed the last drop and stayed still. Then, an inexplicable feeling washed over Killian, something akin to anticipation. The hairs on the back of his neck and arms rose.

A pale mist lazily approached them, sliding above the water without disturbing it. To Killian, it appeared as if he’d gone back in time, calves deep in the chilly water and his mother’s terrified cries piercing the air. Next to him, it had been his brother to clamp a hand over his shoulder, ready to shield him from any evil, and not his son tightening his fingers around the buttery leather of his jacket.

His lungs filled with cold air once more, and all around him everything quieted down: no bird sang, and the distant laughter of children faded, leaving an eerie silence upon them.

When he swept his eyes over the horizon, Killian couldn’t help but squint, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he studied the shadow behind the mist. The unmistakable shape of a tiny island seemed to have come out of nowhere. It must be just an illusion, he told himself, knowing that island couldn’t be actually there. But if I could call her here, perhaps it appears wherever she’s needed.

Although he wished he could keep wondering and making theories about her magic, Killian’s attention was averted from the island to the lake.

Tall, proud auger shells were the first thing they saw emerging from the water, and Killian couldn’t help but look down at Henry to gauge his reaction.

Pure wonder shone in the kid’s eyes, so impossibly wide, much like his mouth, hanging open as he witnessed something he never thought he would see.

The shells crowned a waterfall of ebony hair with shiny pearls intertwined in the silky strands, but what was most beautiful was not the white gown that spoke of ages past, or her delicate and innocent face, with eyes as green as seaweed and a smile that could bring any man to his knees.

No, the most beautiful thing was the sword fluctuating over her open palms.

It emanated a bright light, but Killian could still make out its form, though it was probably a trick of his own mind; he had, after all, spent many hours cataloguing its every curve and engraving and searching the meaning behind the decorations on the hilt.

«Killian Jones. It’s been a long time.»

The woman spoke with the voice of an angel, surreal and enchanting. She glided over the water without disturbing it, her dry figure finally reaching the shore. There, she stopped, eyes falling on Henry and then on Emma, features shifting.

Her expression startled Killian: she was heartbroken.

Sad eyes lifted to meet his. «You are enduring a harsh curse, my King, fated to live a half life and separated from those you love.» She tilted her head, not accusatory, just confused. «Why haven’t you called upon him, I wonder?»

A muscle pulsed in Killian’s jaw. He should have known the question would come. «I wished not to speak with him, for he would give me no answer to my questions, nor a solution for this curse. Both of you speak in riddles, my Lady, and this is no such time for those.»

As if chastised, the woman bent her head, but a small smile played on her lips. «I see,» she commented, reassuming her position. «I was surprised when Excalibur reappeared, I worried something had happened to your family. And yet, I knew you were not dead, nor was your heir.»

«This curse,» Killian began, waving his hand around, the blood now dry and uncomfortably coating his palm, «swept my home away, and all it contained with it. I assumed the sword wouldn’t just disappear, but I did not realize it could be so easily retrieved until-»

«Until the man you have loathed your whole life suggested you look here?»

Killian cursed the voice and the man it belonged to. Of bloody course, he thought, spinning around to see a hooded figure walking past the line of trees. It reminded him of the first time they met, only they were miles and miles away from the illuminated cave.

«Merlin,» Killian gritted through his teeth.

«Merlin?» Henry squeaked, looking up at his father. «That Merlin?»

A low, warm chuckle came from beneath the hood as hands came up to pull it back and reveal the infamous sorcerer.

After all those years, the man hadn’t changed at all, both in appearance and methods. He still seemed to be in his early thirties at most, and yet had the ability to appear ageless, with a tawny complexion and short, black hair, not at all what Killian had expected Merlin to look like, anticipating an old man with a long beard and a pointy hat instead. On his face was the usual, enigmatic smile that still riled Killian up.

«Aye, lad, that Merlin,» the sorcerer replied, walking over to them. His deep brown eyes seemed to smile as well as he talked to Henry, whose mouth was still hanging open in shock.

Licking his lips, Killian glared at the newcomer. True, Merlin had asked him not to blame Gold, and true, there was nothing to blame, not really. Besides, Killian knew when to admit he was wrong--treating Gold like he was the enemy hadn’t prevented Regina from casting the curse and damning them all.

«Cool,» Henry breathed, eyes shining with wonder, before looking up at his father. «So you are a descendant of King Arthur?»

Before Killian could answer, Merlin spoke. «It’s slightly more complicated than that, I fear. When he died, Arthur didn’t have an heir to whom he would pass his legacy on. I prophesied Arthur would come back when his kingdom needed him the most. The ability to see the future is tricky, and rarely gives a clear answer.»

Killian couldn’t help but chortle at those words, blatantly ignoring Merlin’s glare.

«I had my theories about how said prophecy would be fulfilled, and one of them involved reincarnation. Now, your father is his own person, of course, it’s not as if Arthur is trapped inside of him, dormant, nothing like that. Their souls, however, are intertwined.»

Henry was as confused as Killian had been the first and only time he talked with Merlin. Although Killian did know more about magic than he had when he was eleven, not even he could wrap his head around the concept of reincarnation and his soul being tied to the King of Camelot, the once and future King. Monarchy is not quite dead, but nobody would ever call me “King”, nor do I want them to.

«My King,» a gentle voice called out to get his attention.

Killian couldn’t help but blush at that, forcing himself not to look at Emma who, he imagined, was surely interested in what was happening as much as their son.

«Aye, my Lady?»

The Lady of the Lake, who had introduced herself as Nimue the first time they met, gave him a contrite smile. «I fear my magic won’t last for much longer. We must make haste.»

«Nimue is right, Killian. I can feel myself weakening with every second,» Merlin added, an apologetic expression etching his features.

«Why can’t you stay and help us?» Henry asked, almost pleading. To have someone as powerful as Merlin on their side would smooth their way to success.

The sorcerer gave him a pained, sorrowful smile. «The curse prevents Avalon from fully manifesting itself. Nimue and I are both just a realistic illusion. Only Excalibur is immune to the dark magic at work here, and thus it can be returned to its true master.»

Killian nodded, turning to the Lady. A shiver ran down his spine when he realized he could see through her, now, the shape of Avalon almost fading as well.

Nimue smiled kindly, like a proud mother. «I return Excalibur to you, my King. May it serve you well against the darkness.»

Feeling his heart thundering in his chest, Killian stepped forward. The moment his fingers wrapped around the grip, he felt as though a surge of magic had shot right through him, lighting up his blood and awakening something buried deep within his soul. Just like the first time.

Solemnly, Killian drew the sword in front of him, letting it stand tall with the setting sun catching the edge of the blade. Unlike when he first wielded it, Killian felt something else awakening inside of him, the knowledge that he now had a purpose and that he wouldn’t have peace until it was fulfilled.

When he lowered the sword, Killian bent his head. «Thank you, my Lady,» he said solemnly, only to watch her disappear into thin air soon after with one last, encouraging smile on her face.

A slight pressure on his shoulder made him lift his eyes to meet Merlin’s, his form slightly less transparent than Nimue’s but fading still. «I trust you won’t use the sword unless you have no other choice. Remember, even the smallest cut can condemn someone to death.»

A nick is all I need, Killian thought to himself, nodding. He glanced furtively at Henry, who was listening to the conversation as well. «Excalibur will serve its purpose, Merlin. I will be careful.»

The only reason why Killian had not thought about a gun or his own magic was because he had no clue whether Regina had somehow found an enchantment to shield herself. If he shot her, she would stop the bullet mid-air; if he cast a spell, she could counterattack. Excalibur, however, was immune to any kind of magic.

It was a good thing that he’d kept his true nature hidden all these years, otherwise who knew what Regina might have done. Thankfully, she wouldn’t be able to wield the sword, for it turned to dust when touched by anyone who wasn’t worthy.

This would make things easier, though.

Merlin studied Killian’s face, reluctantly accepting his words. «I bid you farewell, then, Killian. Master Henry. Lady Emma.»

Killian watched mutely as the wizard disappeared and the air suddenly became lighter. In the distance, birds began to sing again.

«So,» Henry started, slowly, «you are a king. And you have a magic sword.»

Killian scratched behind his ear, looking at Emma as if she could help him. There was a look in her eyes that said “you’re on your own, buddy”, and he knew her well enough to be sure that she would be looking at them with her arms crossed over her chest and a raised eyebrow. What would he have given to see her standing just like that.

At last, Killian returned his attention to Henry. «Aye. It’s… difficult to accept, I know, and I will understand if you aren’t able to-»

«Dad,» Henry cut him off, frowning, «how could I not accept something so cool?»

Killian almost choked on his breath. «Cool?»

Henry nodded. «Cool.» He shrugged. «It doesn’t change who you are, Dad, you are and always will be my hero, as is Mom. You being a king doesn’t change anything to my eyes. You are my Dad. You could turn into a blobfish every time you touched water and I wouldn’t love you any less.»

For the fraction of a moment, Killian saw Henry’s words become true in front of his eyes. It took all he had not to shudder and focus on his son’s words instead, love spreading through him like a tidal wave that touched every inch of his body. He wrapped his free arm around Henry’s shoulder, drawing him to his chest and hugging him tightly. With a deep sigh, Killian bent his head and kissed the top of Henry’s hair, eyes closing in bliss.

Henry’s thin arms wrapped around his torso and hugged him just as tightly. Killian didn’t actually care whether he could breathe or not.

Soon, too soon, Killian felt the call of the moon, the curse reaching out to him again. They needed to get away from there soon.

With another kiss on Henry’s forehead, Killian said: «Come, we need to go back to the pawnshop. The sun is about to set and we there’s so much to do.»

Henry’s eyes widened, knowing all too well that he had to get back to the house soon, or Regina would send a search party. This breaks the routine, he thought restlessly, tightening his grip on his father.

«Is it time already?» he whispered with a small voice.

Killian sighed, sensing his son’s fear. «After so many sunsets?» he murmured almost to himself. He would’ve fought with all his being to keep Henry by his side, and would’ve sacrificed the chance of sharing a complete life with Emma if it meant keeping their son away from Regina tonight, but he also knew Henry, and he would’ve not let them lose the only chance they had of finally being reunited.

Slowly, Killian started towards the trees, Henry beneath his arm. He glanced at the swan on the other side of their son. «Did you hear, love? I’m cool.»

The sound Emma made, something that could probably be classified as a scoff, had her two boys succumbing to a fit of laughter.

-/-

The pawnshop was closed to the public, but not to the three figures moving in the shadows created by the setting sun.

They entered through the back door Mr. Gold had left open for them; they arrived to find the wizard bent over several open tomes scattered over the table. When he looked up and saw Henry, his expression softened and a smile curved his lips.

«I see you kept alive the family motto,» he observed, using irony to conceal his relief and glee. His eyes fell on the sword in Killian’s hand. «Ah, you’ve found what you were looking for.»

Killian’s eyes narrowed, noticing the light in Mr. Gold’s eyes. He knew he had nothing to fear, Excalibur had its own self-defense mechanism and he was sure the wizard wouldn’t be immune to that, as powerful as he was. Yet, the thought of someone else wielding that sword just felt… wrong.

Safely in Henry’s arms, Emma started to grow restless. Killian looked at her, sensing the curse start to claim him.

As if reading their thoughts, Gold announced: «I took the liberty of preparing a room upstairs. It’s not been used in a while, but it’s safe.» He gestured to a tiny door on the other side of the room.

Killian’s jaw clenched, but not because of the thoughtfulness of the wizard: he didn’t want to shift and lose time with Henry, not now that they’d finally found one another. However, he couldn’t let his son see the transformation, he couldn’t be the cause of more heartbreak.

Slowly, Killian knelt in front of Henry, looking up at those wide hazel eyes that had already seen too much for their young age. «I need to steal your mother away for a few moments, lad. I wish I didn’t have to say goodbye to you this way, that I could stay, but soon the sun will set and I-» He cut himself off, shaking his head to put an order to his thoughts. «I will understand if you don’t want to see me as a wolf, after-»

«Dad,» it was Henry’s turn to cut him off, «do you remember what I said about the blobfish thing? It goes for wolves as well. And, wolves are cooler than blobfishes.»

Killian couldn’t help but chuckle at that. He stood, kissing the top of Henry’s head as he effortlessly gathered the swan in one arm. «Come, then, love.»

The swan protested, almost snapped her beak at Killian, who arched an eyebrow.

«Come on, Mom, go. I will wait here,» Henry reassured her, smoothing the feathers on the neck still wrapped around her boy’s shoulders.

Reluctantly, she let go, neck twisting to circle Killian’s as if trying to make up for the warmth she just lost.

Bending forward to wrap his other arm around Henry, carefully maneuvering Excalibur around, Killian placed another kiss on top of Henry’s head and hugged him tight. «Take care of our Lady Swan, tell her I love her,» he murmured in his ear, almost choking on the words. «You two are my life, my last and best reason for living.»

Henry’s arms seemed to want to bruise Killian’s ribs, but he didn’t care.

Killian conceded himself another minute before stepping away. He turned to Gold, who had gone back to his books, giving them as much privacy as he could. «Thank you,» he said, not bothered in the slightest. It was true, he was thankful, and now, he understood Merlin’s words better. Besides, as much as he might not like it, the man was in love with Belle and had changed. Perhaps they would never be friends, but he might not mind having the wizard around.

Gold raised his head and nodded, thus burying the hatchet. «The lad and I will prepare hot chocolate for Mrs. Jones.» He looked at the grandfather clock, then at Henry. «I’m afraid the time at your disposal is running out.»

It was almost six in the evening, and though the curse might have changed some aspects of most people’s routine, Henry didn’t want to push his luck. Having to spend another night in that dreadful house wouldn’t be as bad now that he knew his torture would end tomorrow.

With another tight, heartfelt hug, Killian forced himself to leave his son downstairs, along with his heart.

The apartment above the shop was tiny, suspended in time, just like the rest of the town. It opened over a kitchen and a living room, with a corridor on the opposite side, one door on the left and one on the right.

As he peered inside the door on the left, he was pleasantly surprised to see the sack with his belongings on the bed, along with an old-looking sheath. His eyebrows shot upwards. Can’t say the man doesn’t think of everything.

After sheathing Excalibur, Killian placed the sword next to the bed, a bed Emma had made herself comfortable on. He knew she was tired, he was as well, but the knowledge that she could soon hug their son was enough to keep her awake.

Begrudgingly, Killian began undressing, not wanting to tear those clothes apart, too.

The bedroom faced west, ironically enough, the last rays of sun casting a golden orange light that made everything appear ethereal. Even Emma’s swan form seemed to glow. Had it not been so heartbreaking, Killian would’ve been fascinated.

It was not often that they changed like this, trying to catch a glimpse of each other in that fraction of a second the sun needed to completely fall behind the horizon. After the first few times, the cognizance that they couldn’t touch or talk to one another made it even more heartbreaking, crushing all hope they had left.

If he closed his eyes, Killian could see her naked form, spun gold hair curling over the creamy skin of her back, a goddess before his eyes. He fought back tears, sitting cross-legged on the side of the bed, one arm outstretched to caress her neck, imagining that there he would roll a strand of her golden hair between thumb and forefinger, wondering why that goddess had chosen him.

Painfully, Killian forced himself to open his eyes. He felt the curse grip him so tightly his bones almost snapped in a half.

Not yet, he pleaded, but even if they wept for the star-crossed lovers, neither the sun or all the stars in the sky could stall long enough to let them steal a moment of happiness.

«I love you,» he murmured, wishing he could shift in a way that allowed him to still touch her.

Without thinking twice, Killian used the last of his human will to lie on the bed next to Emma, knowing that Fenrir would never hurt her.

Fighting the light, he kept his eyes trained on her, gritting his teeth against the pain.

Emma’s eyes shone with heartbreak. She was this close to placing her head over his chest when she felt the same pain snapping her bones and elongating them.

Neither could define how shifting worked, though she was pretty sure it was almost the same thing Ruby went through every full moon - at least for Killian. Emma, on the other hand, had nothing to compare that sensation to, but after years, she’d learned to live with it.

Will I miss it, somehow?, she found herself wondering, another sign that her body was about to become hers once more.

The return of conscious thought was even more proof that the change was near, so near she could taste the magic on her tongue, even.

She stared right into Killian’s eyes, not wanting to miss any single moment, this time, the last sunset they’d have to spend apart.

Her heart started to beat faster in her chest, and suddenly, her small body elongated, feathers turned into skin and the world she’d lived in since dawn tilted on its axis, and she felt more like herself, more human.

Or maybe, just human.

She opened her eyes, which had fallen shut in the midst of the change. Her vision wasn’t entirely right, not what she was used to in her human form, but she could see him, she could see how blue were his eyes, how long lashes framed them and the memory of them fluttering against her cheek when they kissed washed over her.

A sob caught in her throat, as she lifted a very much human hand towards him, wanting, yearning to touch him but scared to do so. She felt tears filling her eyes. He was so beautiful, with the rays of the sun highlighting those tiny specks of gold in his irises.

The light filtered between her fingers, creating a distorted shadow over his jaw, as if she was caressing him. She didn’t dare speak, marvelling that she was finally conscious enough to treasure that moment. Was it the curse on the town that, somehow, allowed them a bit of respite and peace, even just for a long, endless second, more than what they ever had?

And then, as soon as Emma felt a spark of relief blooming in her heart, the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, and Killian changed into the most beautiful wolf she’d ever seen.

The hand she’d lifted in front of her fell almost lifeless on the luscious, soft pelt, nothing like the skin she now barely remembered.

The tears she’d pushed back broke the dam of her self-control, and Emma could only bury her face in the wolf’s neck and cry, because yes, it all would be over soon, but it didn’t mean the separation hurt less.

-/-

There was no need for a leather jacket inside the shop, but Emma wouldn’t be separated from it, just like she couldn’t be separated from her son.

They were sitting next to each other, her arm wrapped around his tiny shoulders and her lips always finding their way to his forehead. On the other side of Henry, sat the wolf, his head on the boy’s lap. As he’d declared earlier, Henry wasn’t scared of Fenrir; in fact, he was quite taken with him, scratching behind his ears like he would any dog.

Perhaps we should get one, Emma thought quietly to herself, remembering their life before the curse, when she and Killian were debating dogs. They had also talked about having another kid, but…

Emma banished the thought, it was not the time to think about that. They would have time, after.

The plan Gold had come up with was solid, tricky, yes, but Killian would be distraction enough to allow the wizard to conjure the magic. Even if magic came and the eclipse didn’t happen immediately, Regina had not spent the last two years learning new spells and tricks. They had to confide that her abilities were rusty and that she would have the same difficulties she always had.

Her other hand lifted the mug of hot chocolate that was slowly getting cold. After one sip, she leaned her cheek on Henry’s hair, breathing in his scent, glaring at the grandfather clock ticking time away. Every tick-tock meant another second lost, her time with her son running out. It was unfair that Killian had had more time with him, but there was no one else to blame but Regina. Emma could never resent her husband for that, especially not after all this time.

«It’s about time you head back, Henry,» Gold murmured, limping into the room. He’d given them time to be alone with each other, no talk of what tomorrow would bring.

Emma felt like growling, but she was beaten to it by Killian, his growl low and menacing. But Henry only sighed in defeat, dropping his head.

If it were up to her, Emma wouldn’t have let him go back to Regina’s house. How could she, as a mother, allow that? True, Henry would do it without a second thought, but Emma was having a hard time accepting it. She wanted to keep him in her arms and never let go.

«Mom,» Henry murmured, squeezing her in a side hug. God, how she’d missed him calling her that, Mom. She almost started to cry again. «I have to go. I will be fine. Now that I know that you two are here, there’s nothing I fear.»

She couldn’t contain the sob that erupted from her throat, and she hugged him even tighter. My boy, my wonderful, brave boy. She wasn’t surprised by the young man he’d grown up to be, bearing the knowledge of being all alone in the town he was raised in, but it was painful that she had not been there for him in the time of need.

But she was here now, and she wouldn’t let the fear of losing her son again keep her from doing her duty. It would be painful, much more than being in Misthaven and knowing that he was here, but she would resist, and hold on to the promise that, tomorrow, everything would be over, that her family would be whole once again.

-/-

Storybrooke, eleven years ago

«I swear to God,» Emma growled low in her throat, «if she dares act all innocent over this, I’ll take Dad’s chainsaw and cut her fucking apple tree down.»

Warm hands settled on her shoulders, but she shrugged them off, too angry to get any comfort from her boyfriend’s touch. Besides, she was too occupied trying to get the rotten apple pulp out of her hair. The stuff stank, and she was on the point of throwing up already.

In the mirror she saw Killian purse his lips, eyes blazing with rage. It was one thing for Regina to verbally offend them, quite another to throw rotten apples at Emma. It’d been years, and yet the brunette had never stopped her bullying. In all honesty, neither of them knew why she was so obsessed with them; it was as if her mind had shut off and they’d become a red flag and she a bull.

Emma sighed. «Please tell me there’s a spell to get this all out, especially the smell.»

Knowing better than to joke, Killian waved his hand, red smoke enveloping Emma’s head for a moment before her signature golden curls fell neatly over her shoulders and the air was filled with the aromatic scent of oranges.

Emma inhaled deeply. «Much better,» she sighed, head tilting back to rest on Killian’s shoulder. He promptly dropped a kiss on her forehead, relishing in the soft sigh she made. «What are we gonna do with her? She won’t stop and nobody will ever step up. I’m so sick of enduring her bitchiness.»

Killian could relate.

Regina Mills was the epitome of spoiled brat. She lived in the fanciest house in Storybrooke, with the exception of the Apprentice’s, though no one actually lived there; her mother was the mayor and therefore whatever bad Regina did was mysteriously swept under the rug; of course, she had magic, and here was exactly where the problem lay. With her mother being a powerful witch herself, Regina was expected to have a great power. Truth was, she did not. Sure enough she was able to do tricks, but conjuring and more challenging spells, or even teleporting? The end result was always a surprise, and not always a good one.

On the other hand, Emma was powerful enough to cause a blackout of the whole town if she was upset over something at age eight. This was years ago, when there was little she could do to conceal her feelings, now she was better at controlling herself. Well, most of the time, if the flickering lights in the bathroom were any indication.

However, it didn’t stop Regina’s jealousy and bitterness from coming into play. As soon as she connected the blackouts with Emma, she tried to always push Emma, to make her look like the bad guy, turning her nasty feelings into a rabbit hole she didn’t want to crawl out of, falling deeper and deeper into the darkness.

Emma got used to it, had to, because the last thing she wanted was for her parents to be thrown out of town because she dared go against the mayor’s daughter.

Then Killian and his family arrived in Storybrooke, and things changed for the better. She wasn’t the only one to stick up for herself against Regina’s bullying, and Killian was way better at controlling his own magic, which helped when sometimes it all became too much and they needed an escape from reality. It also helped when Regina’s spells were predictable, which wasn’t as often as they wished, and therefore they were able to counter them.

One would think Regina would put it all behind her after so many years, but with nobody stopping her, her hunger for whatever power she could get her hands on grew, and so did Killian and Emma’s misery.

But two weeks ago, the two of them sitting on the floor of his bathroom and a stick sporting two pink lines in hand, things had changed.

If they weren’t able to protect themselves from Regina’s viciousness, how were they supposed to protect their child from it?

Emma sighed, dropping her head, hair falling like a curtain around her face.

Sensing her distress and needing to take it equally as a burden, Killian gathered the thick strands, pushing them over her shoulder. «One day, my love, we will find that happiness that two people always dream of. One day, we will get rid of Regina for good.» He buried his face in her neck, nuzzling the tender skin below her jaw. When he pressed a kiss there, he felt her pulse quicken. «Until then, we will ignore her and we'll raise our child as best as we can, teaching them to use their magic for good.»

Emma breathed in a shaky breath, her shoulder tense. «I'm scared.» Her voice sounded small as she spoke, inching slightly back to burrow her small frame into Killian's chest.

«I am, too,» the boy confessed, tightening his arms around her, just below her breasts.

She fell silent for a while, simply taking in their reflection. «Do you really think they'll have magic?»

A smile tipped the corners of his lips upwards, the movement branding her skin. «Call it a hunch.»

It was Emma's turn to smile fondly, one hand covering Killian's and the other threading through his wild locks. «One day,» she vowed, to herself, to him, to them, to their child.

A soft kiss against her neck. Killian's eyes met hers in the mirror.

«One day.»

-/-

The hot chocolate had gone stone cold in the mug, but he felt compelled to take a sip nonetheless, the rich taste bursting in his mouth.

No ten-year-old should've been enlightened about their parent's past that way, if at all. Alas, he'd wanted answers, and the truth about what his parents had to go through because of the woman who claimed to unconditionally love him was utterly disgusting. Henry Jones hated bullies, and Regina Mills won the title of worst bully ever.

"Life ruiner" is more appropriate, he thought, nodding slightly to himself.

Still, he didn't understand. «This curse isn't just the act of a bully, is it? There's too much thought behind this.»

The reptilian smile Mr. Gold gave him made Henry shiver. He tightened the grip around his mug, gritting his teeth slightly.

Gold nodded, taking another sip of his tea. «Regina's reason to hate your parents, Mrs. Jones, mainly, was fuelled by her own mother's desire for her to be perfect, powerful and beautiful, a perfect carbon copy of Cora.» A quirk of his thin lips. «You are very lucky not to have met her.»

A shiver ran down Henry's spine; if Regina was anything like her mother, he sure as hell was lucky. Two of them, ruling over Storybrooke? It probably would've felt like those nightmares in which you woke up and thought you were awake only to discover it was a new one and so on.

His brows pinched together. «But Regina wasn't, was she? She wasn't as powerful as my mom.»

«She was not, and she isn't still. There's a reason why Regina sent your parents away, a legend, so to speak, about this curse being breakable by a Savior. Now, this Savior is not anyone, it's the person wielding the purest, most powerful magic of all.»

Henry's eyes widened. «The product of True Love!»

Mr. Gold blinked in surprise, the only demonstration of shock he'd allowed himself. «Precisely.»

The young boy’s frown deepened. «Grandma Mary Margaret once said my parents are True Love as well. If that were true, what would that make me? Is that why I didn’t fall under the curse?»

«As interesting as your theory is, alas, that’s not the reason. Your parents decided to cast a spell to protect you when you were still an infant.» For the fraction of a moment, a small, sad smile tipped the corners of his lips upwards, only to disappear in a blink. «The knowledge was mine to give, but they cast the spell. In retrospect, their decision was the right one, for it might save us all.»

Henry listened, rapt, as the man very few seemed to trust spun the tale of his parents as if he was the weaver of their lives. But Henry knew Mr. Gold had never been one for favors, only offering deals in which he either had the upper hand or found a loophole.

«What did you ask them in return?»

Mr. Gold smiled again, slightly nodding his head as if assessing Henry’s intelligence. «I asked them for a favor.»

-/-

Storybrooke, three years ago

«You want me to find him?»

Clearly irritated, Mr. Gold gritted his teeth, bony fingers tightening around the handle of his cane. «Yes, Mrs. Jones. This is my price for helping you all these years ago with your boy.» The man knew better than to threaten the child, nor did he want to, especially as he was trying to demonstrate he could be a better man, worthy of love.

Emma’s eyes flashed at the mention of Henry, nails digging into her palms, her magic swirling inside her, ready to fight. After a deep breath, understanding the man - man, wizard, whatever Mr. Gold was up to these days - was no threat, the woman relaxed slightly in her chair.

She licked her lips, looking down at the photo on the table in front of her.

Baelfire Gold.

She’d never actually known him, not personally, only crossing his path from time to time but never engaging in a conversation that involved anything more than pleasantries.

Her husband was a better source of information about the man, but she would fill Killian in later. Killian didn’t trust the man much - rightly so - but Emma had never pried, all she knew was that, once upon a time, someone had warned him about Mr. Gold. Perhaps now was the time to have a talk with Killian about that.

«I suppose conventional and even more less conventional ways to locate him didn’t work.»

«You assume correctly, Mrs. Jones.»

She smiled coldly: Emma didn’t hate the surname she’d chosen, it was her name, but the way he pronounced it, made it sound like an insult. Alas, she couldn’t just punch the man in the face. «I doubt he’s kept his name.» Especially since it’s terribly uncommon and horrible. «His mother’s name was...»

«Milah Cassidy,» Mr. Gold said through gritted teeth, as if spitting poison instead of words. «She left many years ago, and was found dead at sea when Bae was just a lad.»

Emma nodded slowly, not entirely trusting him, but he wasn’t lying about his ex-wife being dead. «I’ll need to have a look through your son’s belongings, see if there’s something I can use to track him down.» At the look of indignation on the man’s face, she added: «Look, you came to me because you couldn’t find him, and the fact that he must’ve taken precautions so someone as powerful as you wouldn’t do exactly that means your son doesn’t want to be found. I won’t ask what you did, to him or in front of him or whatever happened between the two of you, that’s for you to work through. But I don’t know Baelfire, and only looking through what he left behind might give me a hint about where he went. I might be good at finding people, Mr. Gold, but I’m not a miracle worker.»

After a few, stunned moments, Mr. Gold nodded. «Of course, Mrs. Jones. My boy’s room has been left untouched since he departed. Feel free to come by and have a look. I hope you’ll be able to find what I failed to see all these years.»

And then, Mr. Gold left the police station, walking away from Emma like a broken man.

***

It was pizza night in the Jones household, and on pizza night, Killian cooked. Truth to be told, he cooked most of the time, not because Emma burned everything - she’d come a long way since high school - but because he loved it. He also did a lot of stress baking, which was heavenly for Emma’s tastebuds but sin for her hips - not that Killian would complain if she were to gain a few pounds. Though he found his wife beautiful, any change her body might undergo wouldn’t make his love for her disappear.

As per usual, the smell in the kitchen made Emma’s mouth water as soon as she walked in.

Killian was humming to one of those 80s songs he loved so much, though Emma had no doubt in mind that he’d heard her enter the house as he seemed to have a wolf’s hearing; that, and he was listening for any strange noise coming from the living room where Henry was curled on the couch, nose between the pages of the latest book he’d obsessed over and dressed in his favourite pyjamas, the Star Wars ones.

She made a beeline for her husband, sneaking her arms around his waist and inhaling his scent as well as the pizza’s. Good God, she was starving.

«Good evening to you too,» Killian joked, throwing her a glance from over his shoulder. «Have you had a nice day at work?»

Nestling her head between his shoulder blades, Emma grunted. «Interesting is a better adjective.» She chuckled, ducking her head under his arm and studying the pizza he was preparing, squinting at the toppings before stealing a slice of pepperoni dripping in tomato sauce. «I would’ve given anything to have you there today.»

Turning around in her arms, Killian quirked his eyebrow. «Really, now?»

Strong fingers encircled her wrist just as she moved to steal another slice. She pouted, but was rewarded with a kiss. Even though she’d been with him for almost a decade, Emma had never gotten used to Killian’s kisses, his mouth always making her knees go weak and numbing her mind.

«Mhm,» she hummed against his lips, tring to plug her brain in once more. «Really.» Killian stole another kiss before having mercy on her. «Gold came to visit.»

And with those words, the magical atmosphere shattered in a million little pieces.

Killian’s face darkened visibly, and the muscle in his jaw started pulsing. «He wanted to cash in his favour, didn’t he?»

Slowly, Emma nodded. «He wants me to find his son.»

Suddenly, Killian stiffened, causing Emma to worry. Only one other person could make Killian react that way, and they were most definitely not talking about her.

After a few moments of complete silence, his eyes trained on the wall that separated the kitchen from the rest of the house, approximately right where the couch was positioned in the living room, Killian finally spoke. «I don’t like this.»

«We knew he could ask for pretty much anything in return when we made the deal with him. This sounds… acceptable.» Even Emma knew there was more to Gold’s wish to reunite with his son than basic human feelings, the man never did anything if it didn’t benefit him. Yet, as ridiculous as it sounded, she could understand him. She, too, would do anything to find any member of her family if they went missing.

Instinctively, she tightened her hand around Killian’s. Sensing her distress, he brought their joined hands to his lips, kissing her every knuckle.

«It is, it’s just… bloody hell,» Killian cursed under his breath as his free hand made a mess of his hair, ruffling it and spreading a dusting of flour on the inky locks. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and gathering his thoughts. «Do you remember when I told you about my trip to Tintagel all those years ago?»

How could she forget? That story sounded even more crazy than the world they lived in. That he was- For fuck’s sake, she couldn’t even think about that. It was too ridiculous and… too freaking possible. Besides, there was proof enough of that reality far too close for her liking.

In response, she nodded, biting her lower lip.

«Well, aside from what that man told me, he also said I should be wary of the gold spinner, “for he’ll be your ultimate downfall”.» Killian gulped, his head bent in clear shame, shame of not telling Emma that particular detail sooner. «I’m sorry, Emma, I should’ve-»

She interrupted him with a kiss, her free arm hooking around his neck to bring him closer. Sure, he should’ve told her, but he’d not done that because he didn’t trust her, he’d stayed quiet about it because he didn’t want her to worry. Stupid, heroic, and just like the man she’d fallen in love with all those years ago.

Killian lost himself in the kiss, taking in her forgiveness and love, hoarding that strength she was giving him with her acceptance.

Muttered words broke the tense silence they’d fallen into. «That’s not all, right?»

He took a deep breath, gently resting his forehead against Emma’s before pulling away, and what Emma saw in Killian’s haunted blue eyes nearly broke her heart.

«He told me not to blame him.»

-/-

«Did Mom ever find your son?»

After a few moments of silence, which he spent slowly sipping his tea, Mr. Gold nodded. «Your mother is very determined, as is your entire family. A good characteristic in times like this.» He let out a long exhale. «To answer your question, lad, she did, but Regina cast her curse before I had the chance to even reach out to Bae.»

There was pain in his voice, a pain Henry could understand very well. No matter the reason, to be separated by your relatives hurt, and hurt deeply.

Yet, not even Mr. Gold’s feelings were enough to stop him to satisfy his curiosity, especially not when the man in front of him had all the answers.

«Why did Regina cast it in the first place? And how did she put her hands on it? If she’s not powerful enough to cast simple spells, she surely couldn’t create a curse on her own, could she?»

«Ah, you have your parents’ perspicacity,» the man said, smiling with his signature reptilian grin.

Under other circumstances, Henry would’ve probably run away as fast as he could. Right now, he needed to hear what Gold had to say. Besides, he believed the pawnshopper needed him as well.

Henry raised his chin, silently waiting for a reply. Though he was putting on a brave front, he still feared this meeting could lead nowhere.

Amused by the boy’s display, Gold tapped his forefinger against the chipped rim of the cup, assessing the young man in front of him, the perfect mix of his parents. As frustrating as it was, that was what a parent wanted for their child, to be the best part of them and their partner.

«Regina’s motive is simple to explain: she wanted revenge. Alas, she wouldn’t only target the person who was the sole reason for her pain.»

Henry sucked in a breath. «Her mother.»

«Cora,» Mr. Gold confirmed, his voice disdainful. He’d made the mistake of falling for that woman’s charms in more ways than one, and there wasn’t a day that passed in which he didn’t regret his choices. This, the boy with hazel eyes and cunning attitude sitting in front of him, could be the key to redeeming him and setting him free.

«What happened to her?» Henry asked cautiously, looking at the man from beneath his long, dark lashes, a gift from his father’s genes.

Mr. Gold’s smile had the same effect as a bucket of icy water thrown unexpectedly, chilling the blood in Henry’s veins.

«Regina killed her.»

-/-

Storybrooke, eight years ago

«Stop, stop, stop! Killian!»

Emma shrieked, holding her arms tighter around her husband’s waist, probably cutting out his air supply.

Serves him right.

Not listening to her, Killian kept going, using his magic to speed up the bike and laughing his heart out.

Deep inside, buried beneath the scare of going a bit too fast for her own liking and the desire to kill him, Emma’s heart melted.

She loved seeing her husband like that, happy and carefree - though she also loved seeing him with their son. That did things to her.

Today was no different, but now they were on a date, one that had been a long time coming, and she had every intention of enjoying herself, even if it meant letting Killian take her on a ride to a new spot he’d found in Storybrooke and he was now racing faster than a car through the trails at the edges of Storybrooke Heritage Park.

She was so going to kill him.

Knowing that Killian would never let anything happen to her, Emma tried to loosen up a bit, relaxing her shoulders and posture but not the grip around his torso.

Had she not been scared to death of slamming into a tree, she would’ve enjoyed the way the wind messed her hair up or even the not quite clear landscape around her, too blurry for her to truly recognize.

«Come on, love, isn’t it fun?»

In response, she pinched him on the side, making him squeal and jump on the bike, which swerved slightly before Killian regained control of it.

«Sometimes I hate you!» she yelled in his ear, purposely. A wince followed, and the speed slowed down to an acceptable one, Killian’s mind clearly not on the spell anymore.

He slowed down until they stopped moving altogether in the very middle of the forest, or so it seemed. There wasn’t a soul to be seen, and it was strangely quiet, clearly too far away to hear any kind of car.

Emma cocked an eyebrow, amused. «Did you bring me here to kill me and bury my body where no one can find it?»

Killian turned around with a mocking gasp, palm flat on his heaving chest, but it was his eyes, sparkling with mischief, that made Emma swoon.

Damn you, Jones, she mused, leaning forward to plant a kiss on his smiling lips.

Instinctively, Killian wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her closer. He loved making her smile, and even if he risked being yelled at, he would never stop trying to do exactly that.

Emma hummed into the kiss, fingernails scratching the stubble he’d started to sport about a year ago, when puberty was left behind and the man was born - or so she joked. Her husband was a fine man, and she was very excited to see how the years would treat him. If his brother was to be considered, she was in for a daily catfight or two in order to keep the women - and men - away from her Killian.

With a smile and one last peck on her lips, he pulled away. «We’re almost there.»

«There, where?»

Killian looked at her from over his shoulder. «You’ll see.»

Blowing her cheeks like a little girl, Emma even crossed her arms in front of her chest, clearly stating her disagreement. It wasn’t that she hated surprises, she just… didn’t like being kept in the dark.

Reaching out with one arm, Killian pinched her side, making her jump and squeal in surprise. «Aw, love, I know you’ll love it. Do you trust me?»

Emma huffed, pinching him in retaliation. «I don’t know why, but yes,» she grumbled, slowly dragging her hands around his torso, leaning forward to place her chin over his shoulder. «Lead the way, Captain.»

His chuckle filled her ears and heart; perhaps this outing hadn’t been such a bad idea, after all.

As peace fell upon her, Emma conceded to close her eyes and breathe what perfumes nature had to offer, along with Killian’s scent. All she wanted to do was spend a quiet day with him, nothing to worry about - even though they would always worry about their kid, even if he was in the safety of their family’s care - and nothing between them as well, namely clothes. She really hoped he’d lead her to a very much secluded corner, a barn away from the world or something like that. Her cheeks tinged a deep red at the memory of what had gone down in the last barn they’d visited.

She was completely lost to the world, so deep in her imagination that it took her a few moments to actually hear the screeching of the tires as the bike pulled to an abrupt stop.

Killian cursed under his breath, shoulders slumping in clear defeat. Someone else was already occupying what indeed was a barn, an old one made of stones with deep green ivy running up one of the sides up to the roof.

It would’ve been the perfect refuge from everyone’s prying eyes had it not been for the two horses browsing right in front of it. Someone else was here, and since nobody lived there, it only meant someone else had decided to spend the day as far away from Storybrooke as possible.

«I’m sorry, love, I-»

Emma cut Killian off by jumping off the bike, her ass slightly sore from the ride on the luggage rack, and held her finger up.

Like the dork he was, he mimed the movement of zipping his mouth and throwing away the key. She had to stifle a laugh at his antics.

Careful not to draw attention to herself - and trusting the horses not to alert whoever was inside since it was a thing and she might have read too many fantasy books - Emma made her way to one of the windows, crouching down windowsill-level. Killian followed her, his steps inexplicably lighter than hers, and squatted down.

The lace drapes granted them very little insight on what was happening inside the barn, but they could make out the furniture. The room they were looking at was a kitchen which opened onto another room, one they could just assume was some living room of sorts.

A movement inside caught their attention.

Emma squinted, inching closer until her nose brushed against the stony windowsill. Not wanting to use her magic in case whoever was inside could sense her, she simply relied on the contacts she was wearing.

Killian’s sharp intake of breath told her he was seeing exactly what she was, something Emma would’ve never have believed to be true unless she saw it with her own eyes.

And see it with her own two eyes she did.

An involuntary gasp left her lips as realization hit her, but it wasn’t her surprised noise that made the woman inside snap her head towards the window.

«Fucking birds,» Emma muttered, backing away from the barn so rapidly she fell on her ass, her hand falling right on one of the sharp edges of the rocks there, cutting into her palm with a blinding pain.

Vermilion smoke surrounded her and suddenly she found herself outside Granny’s diner, her eyes level with a chair. Strangely enough, given the sunny day, it was empty.

Lucky us, Emma thought, her mind still trying to process what she’d seen.

Warm hands helped her to get on her feet, brushing away some dust from her knees and the stinging pain on her palm was gone. When she looked up, she was met with Killian’s concerned eyes, even if even his gaze wasn’t quite focused on her.

«Did you see-»

«Was that-»

They spoke in unison, startling one another.

Killian licked his lips, sitting down on the closest chair and dragging Emma with him. She adjusted on his lap before talking again.

«I thought that she was in college somewhere fancy, Ivy League or stuff like that.» The kind of shit your mother pays for you to get admitted to, you know. It only took Emma a quick glance to communicate her thoughts to Killian, who instantly replied with a goofy, small grin.

Then he sighed, resting his chin on her shoulder. «I hoped she’d stay as far away as possible.»

Emma grunted her agreement, unable to let go of what she’d seen. Sure, she expected to see someone inside, a couple, of course, but seeing Regina all these years after graduation had brought back all the insults and bad things she said and did to them. One couldn’t just forget what their bully did to them, it was just not possible. And the whole “turning the other cheek” or forgiveness shit was just that: pure, awful shit.

Trying not to let the control on her magic slip away, Emma inhaled deeply, fingers digging into Killian’s shoulder; knowing that he was near was comforting enough that it calmed her magic instantly.

«Do you think she’s here to stay?»

Killian’s cautious words almost sent her into a state of panic, which he must’ve sensed because he tightened his arm around her waist.

«I hope not,» she bit out, curling her hands into tight fists. But Regina being back in Storybrooke didn’t just reopen barely healed scars, it brought in a new wave of fear. What if she’d had enough time to plan something evil to throw at them? What if she was back to wreak more havoc? What about Henry? Was he in danger, somehow?

And then, there was the other reason for their surprise, because never, not even in a thousand years, would they have thought they’d see Regina Mills with a man like Daniel Colter.

The guy wasn’t bad looking at all, and while he was slightly older, that wasn’t the reason why Emma and Killian wore disbelieving expressions on their faces. In Regina’s mind, a man like Daniel would’ve been considered less than scum and would’ve been treated as such, just like they had been.

«Poor Daniel,» Emma heard herself mutter before glancing down at Killian. «Do you think she’s playing with him?»

That could’ve been one reason. Regina on a quest to ruin someone else’s life once again? Nothing simpler.

Killian exhaled slowly. «She could be. Making him fall in love with her and then making him look like an idiot in front of the whole town?»

Emma nodded, biting her lip. «But he does know who she is and how she is.»

With Regina’s upbringing, as if she was some kind of royalty, she’d been taught to ride a horse and she’d won several competitions as well, and with Daniel working at the only stables in Storybrooke, she was very hard to miss. And if someone ever dared ignore her, she would make her presence known.

«There could always be the ridiculous possibility that time away from her mother might have softened her up.»

At that, Emma laughed.

That was ridiculous, and she didn’t even want to contemplate it because of how stupid it sounded.

Shaking her head, she let out a sigh, head falling on Killian’s shoulder. She was just so goddamn tired of Regina and her hold on them; all Emma wanted was to spend a nice day with Killian.

«You know what? Fuck Regina-»

«Thank you, but no thank you.»

«Idiot.»

«Ah, but I’m your idiot.»

Emma snorted. «Whatever. Listen to me: now, you’re going to search that mind of yours for a quiet place where we can spend the rest of this day and forget all about the girl who ruined high school for us. Daniel is an adult and vaccinated, he’ll be able to handle her. And if he can’t, if she ruins love for him, then we’ll lend a shoulder to lean on. But in no case, right now, will we interrupt whatever was going on in that barn or barge into their relationship. I don’t want a fucking target on my back. So yeah, fuck Regina, she has no power over us anymore.»

Killian was looking at her with utter wonder and love in his eyes. He was about to open his mouth to agree when the bell over the diner’s door dinged. They both looked up at the same time, freezing in their seat.

«Ah, Mr. Jones, Mrs. Jones, good morning. Such a nice day, isn’t it?»

Cora Mills stepped down the few steps in her high heels, blood red lips pulled back in a courteous smile that only managed to send more chills down the young couple’s spines.

Killian recovered first, managing a charming smile. «It surely is, Mrs. Mills. A pity that we don't get much sun in Storybrooke this time of year.»

The woman’s eyes looked at the sky, nodding. «Very true, Mr. Jones. I suggest you make the most of it until it lasts.» Another look at them, another gentle smile. «Have a nice day.»

She didn’t even wait for their muttered farewells, walking away as if she’d never even stopped.

As if she wasn’t heading deep into the woods to kill someone.

-/-

«Mr. Colter was reported dead the same day.»

Henry’s jaw was hanging open in shock. It was very difficult to wrap his head around what Mr. Gold had told him.

He stayed silent for a few minutes, processing the information that had been dropped over him like a bag of bricks despite the man’s attempt to carefully uncover more truths. Henry really did appreciate the effort.

After a while, he lifted his head. «So Regina killed her own mother out of revenge. Why didn’t she stop, then? Why did she persecute my parents? They never told Cora anything!»

Mr. Gold’s sympathetic smile only served to infuriate him even more. «True, they never did, but you see, Regina’s reasoning has never mirrored reality. While yes, she’d been raised with strict rules, those rules didn’t apply to the mistakes she made whenever her mother wasn’t around to tell her so, giving her free rein. That freedom was what allowed her to be the bully she was to your parents and allowed her to blame whoever she picked as victim every time she did something wrong.»

«It was never her fault, and she was the innocent victim of the injustices of life.»

It was a pattern Henry knew from books and school, but one he had recognized earlier, when Mr. Gold was talking of his parents’ teenage years.

«As impulsive as she sounds, remember: Regina is anything but. If there’s one thing her mother ever taught her, was never to act out of any sentiment she might feel. I made the mistake of teaching Cora the same, and with her knowledge she raised a weapon. Her thirst for power was her demise.» Mr. Gold’s voice was emotionless as he spoke of Cora; there really had been no love lost between the two of them. «Regina inherited her mother’s sick pleasure in torturing people, one I can’t say I never took part in, but-»

«But since it’s now affecting you, you feel free to condemn it.»

For the first time during their tea party, Mr. Gold laughed, a full, belly laugh that startled Henry.

«Oh, you do have your mother’s bluntness, lad, but that spite I just heard in your voice, that’s your father’s.»

Henry tilted his head, squinting at the man. «My dad warned me to stay away, but there’s more to it, isn’t it? There is a reason why he despises you.»

Mr. Gold waved his hand, dismissing Henry’s accusation. «Your father has been wary of me since we first met, but that’s because prophecies just have to be delivered in such archaic ways...» He tutted, muttering something about clairvoyance Henry couldn’t quite catch before clearing his voice. «Whether he’d have hated me more or less than he did, he couldn’t have prevented all of this from happening.»

Under Henry’s curious and confused eyes, he stood, heavily leaning on his cane to walk the short distance to the library there. From one of the shelves, he pulled a leather bound tome he then placed on the round table.

Still standing, Mr. Gold opened it with a wave of his hand, the old pages turning so fast strands of Henry’s hair fluttered. When they stopped, it showed the faded drawing of a scroll written in an ancient language that resembled English but not quite.

«The Dark Curse,» Mr. Gold translated for him, «a curse brewed by the Black Fairy, also known as my mother.»

Henry gasped, looking up at him, but the man wasn’t looking at him and kept talking.

«More than a pawnshopper, I am a collector of magical artifacts, boy. Everything in this room and the other has magical properties, but this curse, this is the one I should’ve protected with my own life. Another mistake I made was underestimating Regina and her thirst for revenge and the lengths she would go to make your parents suffer.»

«She stole the curse from you?» Henry asked, brows knitted together. How could that have happened? If Regina wasn’t that powerful, and Mr. Gold clearly was, how had Regina managed to put her hands on the curse and even cast it? Had Mr. Gold intentionally left those questions unanswered so he could give him an answer now?

«I’d hoped nobody would find about the curse being in my possession, but Regina did her research, and not only did she find out about my peculiar lineage, she found a way to compromise with the Coven of the Eight, if you can call compromise killing off one of its members to become one.» Again, he waved his comment away, turning serious all of a sudden. His eyes locked with Henry’s, a warning in them. «Be wary of the Coven, young boy, they are not to be trifled with, their power is strong enough to break blood magic.»

Those words felt like a blow to his stomach. Blood magic was one of the most powerful magics of all, the kind that really was unbreakable… or not, apparently.

After letting his words seep in, Mr. Gold continued: «The Coven helped Regina cast the curse, and I’m sure you’ve recognized the consequences.»

Like the good scholar he was, Henry nodded. «Memory alteration, as well as time standing still, apparently. We can’t leave Storybrooke, and even if we tried… bad things would happen.»

«Part of that alteration is the total lack of magic. Whilst Regina and the Coven didn’t have the power to strip every magical being of their powers, they simply altered their memories so they wouldn’t remember they had them. Time standing still helps and stops Ms. Lucas from turning into a werewolf since there’s no full moon.»

Henry tilted his head, the thought hitting him suddenly. «Why do you remember everything?» He couldn’t possibly be working with - or worse, for - Regina, could he?

«Before you reach the wrong conclusions, I’ll reassure you: I am not conspiring with that witch any more than you are. However, while studying the curse, I ran into the legend of the Savior and, knowing I would never be the one to cast it, I found a loophole and wrote myself into the curse, thanks to Mother dearest’s blood coursing through my veins. When you pronounced your mother’s name earlier, you woke me up, so to speak.»

«My mom’s name was all it took?»

Mr. Gold chuckled softly. «One does not need the most intricate spell to succeed in a mission.» Bending his head over the book, the man tapped a bony finger above a line Henry couldn’t read. «You, lad, had impeccable timing. The Savior will arrive on her twenty-eighth birthday.»

Henry gasped. That means-

«Mom’s birthday is tomorrow!»

«That it is,» Mr. Gold confirmed, caution in his voice, «but there is another problem, I’m afraid.» With another wave of his hand, the pages started to turn again, brushing Henry’s nose.

Once the pages stilled once more, Henry was faced with intricate designs and perfectly detailed representations of a man and a woman and the cycle of the sun and the moon and… was that a hawk? And a wolf?

Before he could even think what to ask the man, Mr. Gold began to explain: «What you’re looking at is a transfiguration spell, one way more complicated than just turning yourself into a cat for a couple of hours. More than a spell, this is a curse. A bishop in Italy once cast it after making a deal with the devil, or so he thought. That was the dark wizard Zoso. Nasty man, nasty appearance as well. But, the actual end of this curse is separating two lovers.»

Henry’s eyes widened. Not only had Regina sent away his parents, but she’d cast this curse as well, meaning that-

«She turned them into hawks or wolves? Forever?»

«No, no, here,» Mr. Gold pointed to the sun. «By day, your mother takes the form of a hawk, and by night...»

«My dad turns into a wolf.»

A grim expression fell on the man’s face. «Poor dumb creatures, with no memory of the half-life of their human existence, never touching in the flesh. Only the anguish of a split second at sunrise and sunset when they can almost touch, but not.»

«Always together, eternally apart.»

«As long as the sun rises and sets, as long as there is day and night and for as long as they both shall live.»

Silence fell between them as Henry slowly took in everything Mr. Gold had told him.

It all was falling into place, every piece of the puzzle had found its spot, yet it didn’t fill Henry with glee, discovering what had happened in the past wouldn’t help break the curse on the town and the one on his parents.

He was the one who had to find a way; he only hoped he was strong enough to do so.

With his jaw set and determination in his eyes, Henry asked, «How do we break these curses?»

Hiding his pleased smile, Mr. Gold indicated the bottom of the page, where a paragraph had been added in fine handwriting, but the drawing there was clear enough.

«A night without a day and a day without a night.»

«An eclipse? It can’t be that simple.» Of course tinkering with a curse was simpler than breaking one. Henry almost rolled his eyes.

«In this case, it is not. Regina made sure the two requirements to break your parent’s curse could never be met. Even if out of the confines of Storybrooke there was an eclipse, the curse wouldn’t be broken because both your parents and Regina must be in the same room at the same time during a full eclipse. Regina took care of that by sending your parents away, but she also ensured that time would stand still, never allowing an eclipse to happen. As for the Dark Curse… that requires the most powerful magic of all.»

«True Love’s Kiss.»

«True Love’s Kiss,» Mr. Gold echoed with a nod. «As we know, your grandparents are True Love, but it is not their kiss that’s required. Your parents, on the other hand, have the power to stop the curse. Take them away and...»

«And the curse can never be broken.»

The book closed with a loud thud, putting an end to the magic lesson, but that couldn’t take away all the questions swirling in his mind.

But before he could even ask what they could do about it, what the plan was - because Henry was sure Mr. Gold had a plan - the man placed a hand on his shoulder in a strangely comforting way.

«It is time for you to head back to the house, lad. We’ll talk more tomorrow.»

A quick glance at the grandfather clock made Henry jump off the chair. He was late, and he had very little time to make up a believable excuse for Regina about his whereabouts.

He’d almost ducked beneath the curtain before he turned around to face Mr. Gold. «Tomorrow is-»

«Tomorrow.»

Henry couldn’t help the grin that bloomed on his face, just as he couldn’t stop his heart from beating faster in excitement as he ran towards his own prison.

But, for the first time in almost two years, he was excited about waking up to a brand new day.

-/-

There was darkness at the edge of the town, one that had nothing to do with the starless night: it was the town line itself, the invisible barrier that rose from it now wrapped in the clutches of the curse.

Emma was almost tempted to reach out a hand to touch the dark tendrils. A low growl was all she needed to step back.

«Yeah, yeah, let’s put this show on the road,» she muttered, narrowing her eyes at the huge wolf next to her.

She could see trepidation in his eyes, a feeling she shared. She needed to be careful, all she wanted to do was to find her son. God, how she missed him.

Killian’s wet nose rubbed against her fisted hand. He, too, only wanted to be reunited with Henry as soon as possible.

Engulfed in her husband’s black leather jacket, something she’d started to wear to feel him somehow closer, Emma took out the scroll Sarah - Ingrid - had given them. She’d offered to go with them to help, but they’d been adamant. It was their responsibility to break the curse and save their son.

«Here goes nothing,» she muttered, unravelling the scroll and taking a deep breath. The hand at her side fisted in Killian’s inky fur, and she felt peace envelop her.

Together, they stepped over the town line.

The only difference they could see were the stars adorning the sky, clearly an effect of the curse.

Looking down, Emma locked eyes with Killian, and smiled.

For too long, Killian had not understood what an important part he'd played in saving his wife from an eternity of suffering and seclusion, a life in which her light would've started to dim until it completely disappeared.

Looking over at her, now, with her long golden curls loose down her back as she lay on a chaise with her pyjamas on and bare feet wiggling in time to whatever music she was listening to, Killian couldn't help but smile.

It'd been so long since he last saw her like this, all the souls wandering the Underworld during this last century were restless and caused no little trouble. It was one of the worst consequences of war, when so many had unfinished business and had witnessed such atrocities they only desired to rest in peace.

Not having the influence on humans as they used to, the gods could do little to stop them. Surprisingly, even Ares himself had tried to put a stop to the bloodshed, in vain.

Now, after decades, Killian could finally say well-deserved rest awaited them.

Sitting on the marble floor next to the chaise, he raised his hand to trace Emma's hip bone, left uncovered as her pyjama tank top had ridden up her stomach and the flannel pants she was wearing had such a low waist…

A strangled growl escaped the back of his throat as Emma's slim fingers ran through his hair, grasping the silky strands and forcing him to tilt his head back.

«Don't.»

One of his eyebrows shot impossibly high. «Are you denying me, my Queen?» Oh, he was a downright bastard when he wanted to be, he acknowledged that as he twisted his head enough to trace the curve of her waist with the cold tip of his nose, warm breath ghosting over her skin and making gooseflesh rise.

«Y-yes,» Emma hissed, yanking the earphones away and tossing her phone on the other chaise nearby.

His serpent tongue darted out, tasting her unique, decadent flavour. He loved how, no matter how long she’d spent in the Underworld, his wife was still full of light and life like the first day he saw her.

No, no, she was more, she felt better than she had then, he could see and feel that. If possible, the darkness of what he was had helped her shine brighter. Perhaps that was the reason why they worked so well together, because they loved each other with such depth that even the myths were scared to tell the truth.

Daringly, he leaned forward, gently biting onto the soft skin there, gaining a shocked squeal. Killian grinned in triumph, triumph that was short lived when her nails dug into his scalp. She still was feisty as the first day he saw her, refusing to leave him no matter the consequences.

Emma moaned as he traced a faint stretch mark with his tongue, loving the proof that she'd borne two wonderful children even when she found it hideous. It was no wonder that  Emma came to hate her own body after the months spent with her mother.

Fortunately, that didn't happen frequently: whilst Snow was still relentless in professing her hatred towards him, Emma wasn't forced to leave home anymore. One could say Henry and Alice had made her go soft - because yes, despite having prayed they would never come to be, Snow had grown to love her grandchildren.

Honestly, Killian didn't care: as long as the three loves of his life were happy and safe, he could bear everything much like Atlas did the weight of the world.

Suddenly, he stood, earning a whine from Emma. «Apologies, my love, but we need to go, or we are going to find ourselves suddenly swamped in new souls.»

A frown clouded her face, making her put her earphones and phone aside. «Where exactly are we going?»

«We, beloved wife,» Killian replied with a boyish smile, circling her waist with his arm, smiling even wider when her lips ticked up, too, «are going on a vacation.»

Blinking in shock, the Queen tilted her head. «A vacation?» She placed her palm flat over Killian’s forehead. «Is it possible for the King of the Underworld to get ill? You do seem a bit more pale than usual.»

«Shush,» he huffed, gently grabbing her wrist and pressing his lips against every knuckle. «With all these wars, their victims, the wars the souls got into once they were here, we didn’t get much time to ourselves, not as much as I wanted. Besides, Henry has already ruled alone from time to time.»

The swell of pride Killian felt in his chest as the mention of his firstborn’s work as Prince of the Underworld. Both Henry and Alice took their work seriously, both content with their roles. Honestly, Killian believed his daughter took a great deal of pleasure in being the goddess of nightmares and madness. It suited her, to be fair, her soul was perfect for the role. Alice was perfect.

He could feel Emma tense in his arms. Of course, the idea of leaving her children alone was never one she wanted to take in consideration, not when she’d once been forced to leave the Underworld for six months of each year. Fortunately, after Emma told her she was with child the first time, Demeter had to leave her be - and undoubtedly Zeus spoke to Snow, the name she went by after she’d brought winter upon the world the one most of the divinities addressed her with. Zeus, or Jupiter, or David, as the Olympians knew him, knew how to deal with her since she still pined after him. Killian didn’t really want to think about that.

Deciding to focus on his wife instead, he pressed his lips against the crown of her head. «He’ll be perfectly fine, love,» he tried to reassure her, ringed fingers combing through her hair.

For a few moments, Emma stayed like that, cheek pressed against his shoulder.

«Do you think we can go to Venice?»

It was her voice, so small and tinged with embarrassment, that made him laugh out loud - and earn a slap on the arm. Her glare wasn’t helping either. Neither did her pout.

At last, he bent down to capture her lips with his. «We surely can, however I rather not repeat our last night there.»

Her fingers found their way into his mass of hair once again. «I agree, knocking a votive candle over and starting a fire is not what I call a good-»

«It was a good fuck,» he cut her off, relishing the way she stared at him in shock, mouth agape. It lasted so long he started to squirm, until another slap hit him. Killian broke into another laugh.

It took Killian peppering her cheeks and neck with kisses to have her smiling once again, giggling because his stubble was tickling her. Oh, how he loved that sound.

Only when he slipped his fingers beneath her top and started tickling her for real she started to squeal and plead for mercy. «Alright, alright, it was a good fuck, one of the best!» Emma conceded, tears running down her face. He kissed them away.

«It was only 1231, my love, I hope you your top chart of best fucks hasn’t stopped there,» Killian growled into her ear, the cold tips of his fingers grazing the underside of her breasts, along her ribs. Emma shivered in his arms.

One of her golden eyebrows arched, mirth shining in her eyes. «Mhm, wouldn’t you like to know?»

«Perhaps I would.» A growl followed, and he would’ve definitely postponed their departure had a knock not resounded in the room. His brain conjured every kind of punishment he could carry out on the unfortunate soul coming to stop him from seducing his wife.

«I hope you are decent and ready to go!»

A smile spread on Killian’s face the moment he realized it was Alice behind the closed door. Without waiting for an answer - and it was already impressive that she’d knocked in the first place - the blond goddess of ghosts waltzed into the room, crashing into her parents’ bodies.

Thick braids framed her face, reminding Killian of ancient times in which she was just a little girl and he braided her hair as he did her mother’s as the latter wove flower crowns for all of them.

Although glad those private moments weren’t common knowledge among mortals, he often wondered why myths kept picturing him as a villain, even after they stopped believing in his existence. Only in recent years, mostly younglings - teenagers, he heard his wife’s voice whisper inside his mind - had started seeing the myths for what they truly were: lies. It may not change them on paper, but Killian took quite the pleasure in seeing Demeter fume at the knowledge that mortals didn’t see him as a monster anymore.

«Papa,» Alice’s voice broke him out of his thoughts, «you have to hurry.»

Emma’s finger found its way between his ribs, making him wince. Ah, one of the best secrets in that family: they were all ticklish. «It’s not funny anymore when is someone else hurrying you up, is it?»

Cheeky wench, he thought, suddenly overcome by the need of sticking out his tongue. Alas, he knew Alice was right. They did have a plane to catch. Emma would hate him for that, for not opening a portal wherever he wanted to bring her, but it was all part of the plan: to be as human as possible during the longest honeymoon they ever had.

In fact, during the millennia they’d been together, King and Queen of the Underworld never left their home - together, that is - for more than a few days. The longest time they’d spent in the human world were a few months here and there during Italian Renaissance and the Victorian era, trusting their children to take on their world’s responsibilities on their own. Now the time had come for Killian to leave Henry in charge for however long he desired, knowing his father was only a phone call and a portal away in case he needed help.

«Patḗr,» Henry’s voice came from the corridor, soon followed by the young man himself. After millennia, his height now matched Killian’s. Zeus help him, but Killian missed how his children had been when they were little, young pests making Cerberus go crazy and their screams rivalling the harpies’, but small enough to scoop them in his arms and hold them to his chest, lulling them to sleep.

«If you tell me we have to hurry I’ll send you to bloody Tartarus,» Killian grumbled, ruffling his hair with a smile on his lips which didn’t match his tone.

Nevertheless, his son paled a bit at the mention of one of the worst places in the Underworld - although they’d renovated it quite a lot. Henry’s fear was rooted deep inside him, since he’d found himself lost in there for hours when he was barely a newborn - even if by human standards he was quite old instead. The imprisoned Titans there had scared him so much Henry had almost expressed the desire to spend time on Earth. Fortunately, both for the child and himself, Killian had managed to quench his fears.

Killian was a lucky god indeed: he’d been afraid Emma would hold their son’s terror against him, but she’d surprised him once again by trying to calm down Henry as well, not desiring to separate father and son - nor force Killian to live without them ever again.

Henry huffed. «Well, yes, that’s exactly the reason I came here. If you don’t go now, there’s no way in hell you’ll be able to catch that plane in time. You’re lucky they now do check-ins online.»

«A plane?»

Henry smiled innocently at his father.

Bowing his head, the King exhaled, exasperated. He wasn’t angry at Henry, perhaps a little disappointed that his wife now knew she had to take a plane - several throughout their honeymoon, to be honest. He just wanted to give her a semblance of humanity.

His desperation was short lived, as Emma pushed herself up on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear for only him to hear: «You’d better make sure we join the mile high club, then.»

Choking on his breath, Killian watched with wide eyes as she went to change, mouth hanging open. Even after all this time, his wife knew how to render him speechless. Oh, how he loved her.

«Papa,» Alice hissed to catch his attention, «don’t be so secretive, she’s already suspicious, don’t ruin everything.» Her expression softened after her scolding. «You’ve put so much effort into this plan, I don’t want you to have worked in vain.»

The myths would never dare tell mere mortals the King of the Underworld could cry.

Wrapping his arms around his daughter, Killian pulled her into his chest, breathing in that scent of oranges and ashes she always left behind, whether she manifested herself in physical form or in the essence of nightmares. It was a perfect combination of Earth and Underworld, much like Henry’s scent, cinnamon and incense, something he’d never thought would work but, just like him and Emma, it did.

«Don’t worry, Starfish, she can try and torture me all she wants, I won’t tell her a thing. This time.»

Whilst actual torture was off the table for obvious reasons, Emma had improved her sexual torture skills during the centuries, and more than once she’d bent Killian to her will when they were arguing. This time, however, Killian’s lips were sealed: there was too much at stake. Besides, he knew his wife was able to be patient if she so wanted; he only hoped this was the case now.

«Hopefully this will do, since my closet now stops at 90’s fashion.»

A grin stretched his lips before he even turned around, knowing which dress he’d left for her to put on, a deep red sundress and flats he knew would be comfortable for the journey. Once he’d reached her, he took her hands in his, kissing her knuckles. «You look ravishing, my love.»

Her cheeks tinted red like the sky at sunset. Sailor’s delight indeed, Killian mused, leaning forward to brush a kiss over her lips before gently dragging her out their apartments. Looking at his wife from over his shoulder, Killian saw her eyes sparkling in delight: she totally knew something was up, but she would wait, perhaps not patiently, but she would, just like Killian knew she would complain sometimes, but still respect his wishes. He couldn’t have found a better partner for eternity.

Once they reached the throne room, Henry and Alice trailing behind them with matching grins stretching their lips, Emma turned to throw her arms around them. Killian’s heart swelled in his chest at the sight.

Being the wonderful mother she was, especially after suffering so much before she finally got pregnant, Emma didn’t want her children to feel neglected only because she and their father were leaving. Alice rolled her eyes in true Emma fashion, which made the woman in question laugh tearfully.

After kissing her daughter several times and arranging her braids and strands of hair which had escaped Alice’s attention, the Queen of the Underworld moved her attention onto her son. Even if she was now much shorter than him Emma found no problem in lifting herself on her tiptoes to kiss his forehead. «Be careful,» she whispered, knowing all too well the dangers the Underworld could hide in the form of innocent souls. One too many times they had to deal with people who, not knowing what their unfinished business was, spent too long in the Underworld, creating disturbances its King had been forced to put a stop to in the bloodiest way.

Wishful they’d been in hoping Henry wouldn’t have to do what Killian had, but they’d been relieved when their son hadn’t turned into the darkest version of himself. Killian suspected it was thanks to Emma’s light. Nay, he was sure of it. Emma would simply huff and roll her eyes at his silliness: no matter what he thought, Killian was light, too.

A low whine echoed in the room, or rather, three low whines. Behind Emma, in fact, now towered Cerberus, the ears on his three heads low in sadness. The Queen reached her hand out, and the head in the center nuzzled against her palm.

«Protect them,» she ordered, knowing it wasn’t necessary for the creature: mostly, it was for herself.

Licking her forearm at the same time, the three heads rubbed their dark muzzles against her body, enveloping her in their own kind of hug. Aye, the Queen of the Underworld was very much loved by everyone, particularly by its King.

Once Cerberus saw fit to release his mistress - after Emma gave each head a kiss - the goddess turned around, hugging tightly the blood of her blood once again.

Sneaking a hand out of the embrace, Emma grabbed the front of Killian’s shirt and pulled him into the family embrace.

Suddenly, he didn’t feel like leaving anymore. Sighing into Alice’s hair, he rubbed the back of Henry’s neck, eyes closed as he basked in that feeling of home, of wholeness he knew he wouldn’t be feeling until they were all reunited.

Alice’s pocket watch started to ring in the pocket of her coat, and she yelped. «You’re totally going to be late!» Reluctantly pulling away from them, she walked to the center of the room, the heels of her booties clicking on the dark marble.

As a goddess, and one born and raised in the Underworld no less, Alice, much like Henry and her father, was able to open portals. Emma could do that, too, but it’d come to her as a shock, since most of her powers had never been used until she broke free of her mother’s control.

Even though she knew they would have to take a plane, Emma arched her eyebrows at the sight of Athens airport.

Bowing, Killian reached his hand out for her to take. «My goddess.»

Emma sighed almost dreamily. «My King,» she replied, closing her fingers over his. Of course he would kiss her hand, it was probably the gesture she was most fond of. Tilting her head, she frowned. «No suitcases?»

The grin on Killian’s face widened impossibly. «Everything is just where it needs to be, my love.» He stepped closer, his chest brushing against hers, his lips capturing hers in a breathtaking kiss. «You are all I’ll ever need.»

A few steps from them, Alice sighed. Henry simply fought back the tears.

Hand in hand, the rulers waved to their children one last time before disappearing into the portal, ready for their next adventure together.

Once the portal was closed, Alice waltzed to her older brother to stand shoulder to shoulder next to him.