Eight years after defeating the black fairy, Killian and Emma take their 7 year old daughter Elizabeth sailing on a smaller boat, a normal family outing for the Jones family, when all of a sudden, a massive storm takes place and makes the small vessel break apart. The Jones family tries to hold together but they all fall from each other's embrace. When Killian and Emma wake up back on the Storybrooke beach without Lizzie, and after much searching, they assume she has been claimed by the waters, when in truth, the cause of the storm was an unusual portal opening, that took the little princess away to another realm.

Killian and Emma deal with their grief while Lizzie Jones desperately seeks to find her way back home to her parents and family, all the while discovering the powerful magic within her.

CHAPTER 1: TRAGEDY

The funeral for the little princess, Emma Elizabeth Jones, takes place next to the Jolly Roger, safely harboured in the Storybrooke docks. Since no mortal remains were ever found of the little girl, the grievant attendees cast wreaths and fire lanterns into the sunset colored waters of the Maine harbor. The Captain, a former pirate and now a dashing heroic figure serving as acting sheriff and deputy alongside his wife, the original sheriff, princess and savior of the town, are admired and respected as authority figures, and above all, loved. Learning of young Lizzie Jones's tragic passing has been a huge blow, not just to the grieving family, but to the whole town of Storybrooke.

The photograph of the child born to princess Emma Swan and her husband, Captain Killian Jones, adorned with a white ribbon, stands by the harbor's edge, crowned with flowers. Smiling back at the grieving attendees is the image of a beautiful little girl, as Jones as she could be: big, lashy eyes, blue as the sky, framed by cascades of straigh, jet black hair, that spiked slightly out of control at the edge of her forehead. A vivacious smile that can warm any heart, she sports the chiselled features of her mother, nose, cheekbones and a little cleft on her chin. Like a dark haired, blue eyed little version of the Savior.

Seated together beside the image, holding each other tight like their very lives depend on it, are the savior and her Captain, both clad in black. Emma's hair hangs lose around the sides, unkept, her face haggard from fatigue and eyes swollen by the tears that seem to have temporrily ceased their flow. Him, he's another matter. He holds her to himself, his hook tight around her shouler and his hand wrapped around hers as it sits on her lap, his chin resting on the crown of her head as it leans into his chest, his gaze lost and his eyes clouded by the same saline ocean water he had for centuries sailed. He heaves, and she squeezes his hand in return.

Behind them sits Emma's family, starting by her now twenty-two year old son who has come home from college the moment he heard that his little sister Lizzie had drowned in a terrible accident. Snow White is another uncontrollable mess as the handsome young Henry Mills-Jones (a choice on his name he had made after his mother's wedding to the good Captain) holds her, also stuggling not to break down completely. Young Neal Nolan also stands by, wondering what he can do to stop his mother and sister's tears, because it hurts so much to see them cry. Prince "Charming", the long standing defender of the town alongside Emma, doesn't seem to know what to do with himself as he stares at his grieving daughter, seated right in front of him. Mayor (Queen) Regina Mills stands by the photograph, welcoming the offerings with a kind nod and, aided by her older sister Zelena and her daughter, Robin, casts the flowers into the water.

Two weeks… two long, painful weeks had been spent seeking for her little girl. Two weeks of magic that yielded no reuslts, tracking spells that had led them all back into the water, incantations that led nowhere and didn't seem to indicate if the child was alive somewhere… and even very human and non-magical dredging equipment and diving teams; none were able to trace any remains of the little princess. The sea had done what it always did; what fell into it belonged to it. After far too much time, Killian and Emma finally decided their baby was gone, and that it was best to see her off like the sailor's daughter and princess that she was.

Emma's h in disarray; she had been unable to save her child, her daughter. She sighs deep and closes her eyes., further nuzzling into Killian's embrace as it tightens around her shoulders. Her head throbs, harder than it has ever done before, and her only desire at that moment is to embrace the soothing, comforting oblivion of her bed, where she is likely to sleep for the next ten years were it not for her other son and her husband who still need her. She straightens her head and caresses Killian's hand with her thumb as she tries to sketch a bleak grin on her face. He briefly looks at her and it is devastating to see him, his eyes sadder than she even knew possible, before averting his gaze to the floor and shutting his eyes tight, a fresh batch of tears streaming down his face.

No matter what, she loves her pirate. Oh, how she loves him. Seeing him so broken is something she never knew she'd ever witness. And given his devotion to the little girl as a new father, it comes as no surprise to her, either. She knows he blames hismelf. She also knew he doesn't have to. She is the Savior who didn't save her own child and he is the captain that didn't bring the ship and his family safely to shore. Both are to blame. But… Neither are to blame.

Now, all they have is one another.

David Nolan, the Prince, is the only one in the close committe sound enough to deliver a decent eulogy without completely falling apart at the seams. Once all attendees have finished casting their offerings into the water and are seated, he stands, tall and dashing but mournful in a black suit, wondering if he will have it in him to talk about his now deceased grandaughter and not break down.

He stands by the podium and looks up at the (very large) attendance.

He clears his throat and retrieves his annotations from his coat pocket. "I want to… thank you all for coming here today. It's erhm… quite the turnout. It helps to know we are not alone to… deal with this tragic loss."

He sighs deep as Emma and Killian finally turned their sad faces to him, waiting for his words. The silence of the day is only broken by the distant squaking of seagulls and the gentle lull of the water soflty colliding against the harbor walls. David takes a profound breath and begins his speech.

"The day my wife and I learned that our daughetr Emma was about to have her second child, and Killian's first, we couldn't have been more excited. Those were happy tidings. A few months later, we were called into the hospital to meet our baby grandaughter, and I remember the exact moment when my son in law handed her over to us, to meet the new princess. I remember how this man I had once dreaded held me in joy when his daughter was finally born. I remember everyone taking turns in holding her, how we all admired how much she looked like her father and … well, just relishing in the joy of the moment. My daughter had found her love… and together, they created this… perfect, beautiful little girl we all loved tremendously. Our Lizzie." He swallows hard. "She brought a whole new brand of magic with her: the magic of the true, true love that comes from two souls who find each other and fight for their love. The magic of kindness ahead of her years, courage, beauty… But, magic, as they say, always… " his voice breaks. "… always comes with a price. She was the angel that slipped from paradise and soon enough, whoever is up there, noticed one of his finest cherubs was missing, so… he …" She sobs softly. "…he claimed her back." He composes hismelf and takes a deep breath. "She would not want us to grieve; like her mother, she was a bringer of joy, and like her father, she was the incarnation of a lesson to be leaned by all who knew her. She will be missed, so, so sorely missed, but… she would want us to remember her with a smile. Because that is all Elizabeth Jones ever gave us: reasons to smile. And while we may be devastated because no parent, and no grandparent, should ever live to see the day when their child passes away, I am just… happy to have had the priviledge of meeting her. If only for seven years." Emma smiles sadly and reaches out one hand to her father. He takes her hand and turns, teary eyed, to the crowd. "Lizzie, wherever you may be… always know that you will live forever in the hearts and minds of all who live in this town… your mother and father, they will forever be proud to have called you their daughter. All your family, your brother Henry, your uncle Neal, and all of us who knew and loved you… we will love you deeply, sweet pea, forever." He finally breaks down completely. "Safe travels, Lizziegirl…"

After the mourners are gone, Killian and Emma Jones stand close together, looking sadly down at the spot where the flowers seem, embracing each other. Killian retrieves a white rose from his jacket, and genty deposits a soft kiss on the white petals. Emma does the same.

"Sweet dreams, my little angel." He whispers with a broken voice and a fresh batch of tears in his eyes. "Your daddy loves you… and your mommy too. So very much. We will miss you, darling, dreadfully so. Please forgive us… forgive us, for we were unable to do what we were supposed to, and protect you from this…fate." Emma cries loudly into his coat lapel, and Killian doesn't know at that precise moment what breaks his heart the most, his little child's passing or the devastation of the Swan's heart, whcih he is helpless to mend.

With a sad sigh, he gently casts the rose into the water. "Farewell, my love, my little one… my… " He finally heaves and completely breaks into loud tears. "…my Lizzie…"

They both collapse on the floor and cry together, holding each other tight, for there is no logic in not crying for the most beautiful little girl on earth: their daughter, Princess Emma Elizabeth Jones, who was claimed by the sea two weeks earlier.

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On the shore of a distant land, a woman paces along the coast, searching for cockles she might find to sell in the market. But this morning, the tide has brought something rather unusual.

"Oh dear… is that…?" She gasps, and runs, only to return a few moments later. "Look, Myra, is that…?"

"It's a child!" the other woman exclaims as she drops her basket and runs towards the limp little figure lying face down on the beach. She turns her around and sharply inhales when her eyes are greeted by a beautiful pallid, white face with specks of sand dusting her cheeks, jet black strands of hair stuck to her skin, eyes closed.

"Is she…. Dead?" The other woman asks.

The woman called Myra places her fingers on the child's neck and exhales with a smile. "No, she lives, she's got a beating heart!" she gives the little face gentle slaps, and shakes it between her fingers. "Child? Child! Wake up!"

It takes a few tries, but after not too long, the little girl coughs and spews a small amount of salt water, as she gasps for air.

"She lives!" The woman breathes a smile of relief. "My child, who are you? What is your name, my poppet?"

The girl opens her eyes and the women are greeted by beautiful cerulean pools. She looks at them in turns. "Wh… who are you?"

"Aw, be calm now lass." The woman not holding her smiles as she helps her sit up. "My name's Midge and this is my sister Myra. We live 'ere. Who are you child? Did you survive a shipwreck?"

"The Merry Swan… Oh no…" she stands up suddenly and the impulse makes her dizzy, but she finds her balance even as she is breathing hard. "Mommy? MOMMYYYY!" She screams as she looks around. "Daddyyyyyy! Where are you?"

She looks back at the two women. "A… are there any other people here? I was in a boat, the Merry Swan, it's my dad's. A storm hit us! Where's my mom and dad? PLEASE I HAVE TO FIND MY MOM AND DAD!" She cries in angst as the woman called Midge embraces her. She smells of fresh fish and sand, a smell the young girl is all too familiar with regarding the sea fairing folk her father deals with. "Now now little one. We shall find them, dear, not to worry… now…" She kneels and lifts her face with two bony fingers. "What is your name, lassie?"

The girl pulls herself together. "M… My name is… Emma Elizabeth Jones… My father is Killian Jones and my mother is Emma Swan. Or Emma Jones. She answers to both names. Please…" She begins to sob. "Please help me find them!"