Once Upon A Happy Beginning

Chapter Twenty Seven: In Loving Memory

This originated as a separate book titled Once Upon The Saviour's Swan, but I found that less people were reading on there than here so here is the sequel combined. Remember to vote and comment – your comments are so fun to read!

David

Snow is busy bathing our son when there's a knock at the door. I can't fully decipher it as quick and rapid or urgent and desperate. It's Emma. Definitely. My daughter is having an emergent pregnancy freakout as she does every other day and has come bursting to the door in need of my wife's attention. My son-in-law will be the one to follow swiftly, trying to hold Ems back. He won't: guaranteed. Emma is pretty apt when it comes to this bi-daily occurrence and won't let anyone tell her anything until it's her mother who makes it known that she should stay in bed.

"Alright, Emma!"

I open the door and instead of my feisty daughter standing there, black leather in tow, it's a significantly shorter but equally frustrated being.

"Grumpy?"

"Bloody... That bloody... Where are those newbies now?" Grumpy still hadn't come on board with the arrival of Elizabeth and Sparrow. He, like me, was still increasingly aware of our previous experiences with new people and considering that two had kidnapped my grandson, another had kidnapped my son; someone else was responsible for a second reality and another for my daughter's "death", not to mention apparently Dr Jekyll isn't exactly evil free. I tell you what, if "man is not truly one but truly two" then that applies for Jekyll and Hyde individually alongside together... well, cut a long story short, I'd earned my right. However, spending time with the pirate and pirate-ess has given me what I can only guess is respect for them and what they've– "Well? They've caused chaos, I tell you! Right outside Sleepy's house, I tell you!" I don't remotely know where the guy lives.

"Chaos?"

"Portal. Big and green and flashy lighty! He'll fall asleep into it!"

"Move over, dwarf!" Regina yells, eyes what can only be described as bloodshot.

"Regina? What's wrong?"

"Glad you asked, Charming. Where's my stepdaughter now? I need you both to give me a trade."

"Go to Gold for that one, sister."

"Move over before I move you!"

"Regina!" Snow scolds, towel drying Neal's hair, as he clabbers on her arm.

The Queen waves her hand and dries his hair for him striding past the two of us towards my wife and child; I take a protective step towards them issuing an order to Leroy that he meets me with all the other dwarves at the station. "Regina? What's wrong?"

"I need... I need your son. You need to read what Henry wrote." Her voice falters. "I couldn't... It couldn't be true, but I went to... I think... Oh, Snow... I'm scared that it is..."

"Scared what is? 'Gina?" She reaches out to her stepmother; crying for the first time in... well, years.

"Just–" She shoves some folded tear-stained sheets in my general direction. "Just read it. Let me take Neal. He doesn't... I'll take him back to mine, he can play with Roland and Robyn. Henry might... I think he'll appreciate seeing his uncle."

My wife and I are confused; we hadn't ever referred to him as "Henry's Uncle" before. Whilst noticing our puzzlement, Regina doesn't say anything but pointedly look at the sheets and she takes my son and disappears. Snow and I share a bewildered look, going from each other, to where she was, to the sheets.

The Next Day

"I don't really know what to say here.

"I don't think a few beautiful words can sum up my misery at losing my beautiful Emma, of how distraught I am about the loss. Not to mention, how awful I feel for my son now, Killian. Suffering alone. It's partially why I wanted to have this today... This service. To offer up our love and kindness and support to him even if he can't be here in remembrance today.

My daughter once said that she was: "Just a lost little girl who didn't matter and didn't think she ever would." I want to be the first to acknowledge how wrong she was. My Emma wasn't lost and she absolutely did matter – constantly, to everyone. She put everyone first; there wasn't a selfish bone in her body and as a result we all loved her.

"My daughter is gone. And whilst I say it, I'm never going to believe it. Or admit it. Or accept it.

"However, I'll never stop knowing something.

"The book ended with 'The End.' But that's not what stories do. Fairytales don't ever end. We get that nice little phrase And they all lived Happily Ever After. Emma's story didn't end with that; so it's not over. Not yet. At least that's what I choose to believe – my daughter lives inside our hearts, all of us, there for us. Constantly. Aiding us, loving us, believing in us. So we must do the same for her. Emma's story hasn't ended. Not quite yet.

"So to my daughter, my Emma Swan... Emma Swan-Jones."

I step down from the podium, walk over to my wife and really let myself cry.