Author's Note: The recent spoiler pictures and the dream sequence from The Tower inspired me!

Here's a fluffy little coda (I intend to write at least two more fluffy codas):

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Emma couldn't keep the smile off her face as she nibbled her breakfast. Gwen chatted animatedly as she scurried around the princess, coifing her hair and getting her gown and accessories ready. The red-haired maid had brought the princess biscuits and cinnamoned cocoa for breakfast again, as she had on Emma's last birthday. It was strange to think that she was only officially seventeen, when she'd lived at least five extra years in Neverland. But seventeen or twenty-two, Emma felt more confident and happy than she had on the morning of her previous birthday.

Her gown was white with silver embroidery along the bodice and feathers at her shoulders. It surprised Emma. The gown she'd been given on her birthday the year before had been made of heavy gold brocade. But this dress was soft and light, unrestrictive where the previous one had been binding. The wide skirts were made of layer upon layer of fluttering gauze.

Gwen tied Emma's hair back in a simple coif of loose curls adorned with a gem-studded band instead of her tiara.

When Emma looked in the mirror, she felt free. She looked healthy and happy, neither the spoiled princess nor the starving Lost Girl. Her posture bespoke confidence and grace, but not conceit. The tilt of her chin showed defiance, but not stubbornness.

"You look lovely, your royal highness," Gwen whispered, smiling at the princess.

"Thank you, Gwen," Emma replied, smiling.

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Downstairs, Emma embraced each of her parents, who were beaming with joy.

The queen had recently found out she was pregnant, but refused to announce the news until after Emma's birthday.

"Emma, my darling," Snow said, touching Emma's cheek. "Happy birthday."

Mother and daughter hugged lightly, then Snow stepped back and David took her place.

David embraced the princess and then ducked to lift her off her feet. He spun her as he kissed her forehead.

Emma laughed and threw her arms around her father's neck.

"You're all grown up," David said with a wistful smile.

"I'll still step on your feet when you dance with me if it will make you feel better, Father," she teased as he set her down.

David laughed, his eyes sparkling.

"Has Killian arrived?" Emma asked, trying and failing to sound casual.

David laughed again.

"We won't see him until this evening," he said gently.

Emma nodded, disappointed but not surprised.

She was surprised, however, when Neal, Tinkerbell, Regina, Robin, and Roland arrived shortly before lunch.

The formerly evil queen seemed like a different person. Her smiles were genuine and affectionate. She even curtseyed (shallowly) to David and Snow when they met in the foyer.

Regina had been hosting Neal and Tinkerbell as they finished planning the wedding that was scheduled to occur in a few short months.

Tinkerbell and Neal each embraced Emma and wished her a happy birthday before they all sat down to lunch.

Emma's former fiancé and her fairy confidante seemed blissfully happy together, which pleased Emma. She was glad to see the people she cared for experiencing joy.

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The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur spent with Snow while David had various meetings. And before she knew it, Emma was seated on the royal dais in the ballroom, eyes roving the hall for a certain black-clad man.

Emma frowned as her third pass yielded nothing.

He hadn't presented himself during the grand procession, and David was about to announce the first dance.

Where was he?

David stood up, reaching for Emma as he made his pronouncements, but Emma wasn't really listening.

"Emma?" he said, drawing her attention.

"Hmm?" she replied, finally looking directly at her father.

"Shall we dance?" he said, his lips quirking up briefly.

Emma rose, letting her father lead her down to the floor and pull her into a proper waltz. He noticed immediately that she was distracted.

"I thought you were joking about stepping on my toes, Emma," he said with a smile.

"I'm sorry," Emma mumbled, feeling her cheeks go pink.

"You're distracted," he said gently. His expression was knowing.

"Maybe I am," she teased back, trying to keep the mood light.

"He came to see me this afternoon," David said, and Emma did step on him them. "Ooph!"

"Sorry!" Emma said. "What—what did he come to see you about?"

"Oh, just a matter of contract," David said too nonchalantly. "He was looking to forge an alliance."

"Mmm?" Emma said, not really listening, searching the crowd again over her father's shoulder.

Her breath caught suddenly when she saw him, standing directly behind her father.

He wasn't wearing his black leathers.

Emma's heart pounded in her chest at the sight of him in his new coat. It was brown, embroidered in a simple yet elegant pattern. The cuffs and collar were black as pitch, as was his waistcoat. The shirt beneath was white as snow. His breeches were dark, but not as inky as his collar, tucked into new, black boots.

The coat was well-tailored, fitting tight across Killian's shoulders and snug to his arms and torso. It was a peacetime coat, she realized, and would be too restrictive in a sword fight. The left sleeve in particular seemed almost too snug, clinging tightly to the brace that held his leather hand in place.

He tapped the king's shoulder.

David stopped their movement at once, turning to smile at Killian.

"May I cut in?" Killian said, his eyes only staying on David for a fraction of a second before meeting Emma's.

He bowed elaborately to the pair of them.

"Of course," David said as he and Emma returned the polite greeting, David bowing as Emma dipped into a curtsey.

When she was upright, David gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before passing her hands to Killian.

"Your royal highness," Killian said, bowing elaborately again and kissing Emma's hand.

Emma curtseyed again.

"Sir Killian," she said, unable to fight her smile.

"Happy birthday," he said, his eyes intent on hers, full of joy and warmth and just a hint of danger.

"Thank you," she said, letting him pull her into his arms as the music transformed into a slightly more upbeat waltz.

He led her into the steps, as smooth as silk, and she followed the elaborate footwork eagerly.

"You look lovely," he murmured as he pulled her back from a spin, crushing her tight against him for a moment and letting his lips brush her cheek before he opened their position again.

"So do you," she replied with a grin when they were face to face again.

He grinned widely and spun her again, letting her loose to twirl on her own before he recaptured her and led her in an intricate path across the floor.

"I must ask, though," he said, his expression mischievous. Instead of finishing his sentence at once, he spun her yet again, releasing her completely to let her pirouette without restriction. She did a double turn, slightly confused when she didn't feel his hand on the center of her back to let her know it was time to resume the closed position.

She turned her head to catch his eye and found him kneeling in the middle of the dance floor, his eyes dancing and a small smirk on his face.

Emma blinked down at him in confusion, wondering if he'd somehow turned his ankle or something. She went to him, and he took her hand in his.

"Killian—" she started, but she stopped when she saw the ring.

The ring his father had given his mother.

A matter of contract indeed.

"Princess Emma," Killian said, his voice ringing out across the suddenly silent ballroom, "would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

"Yes," Emma whispered, then louder, "yes!"

Killian slid the ring onto her finger and rose smoothly from the marble. Emma threw her arms around his neck. He kissed her chastely and then swung her in a circle.

Dimly, Emma could hear the cheering and applause, but her entire focus was on the blue-eyed man who held her heart.

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Not long after the proposal, Killian managed to secret away the guest of honor. Emma had no idea how he'd managed it, but she was glad to find herself alone on a balcony with her new fiancé.

Killian gathered Emma into his arms and kissed her sweetly, languidly. It was a kiss that spoke of many more kisses to come.

"Are you happy, Swan?" he said, the words sounding serious, but his face amused.

"Mmm," she replied, surging up to her tiptoes to kiss him again.

He kissed her back, keeping the pace slow and unhurried. She sighed into his mouth as he trailed his fingers up and down her spine.

She threaded her fingers in his hair, gazing up into him bottomlessly blue eyes.

"Exquisitely happy," she said, grinning at him and claiming his lips again.

He pulled her even tighter to him and she sighed.

"Me, too," he murmured into her ear.

"There you are," came the unwelcome voice of Emma's step-grandmother.

The couple turned to find her stepping on to the balcony, closing the door behind her.

Emma pulled back from Killian self-consciously, but he kept his arms around her loosely.

"Your majesty," Killian said with a dip of his head.

Regina nodded at the address without taking her eyes off Emma. The queen frowned for a moment before stepping closer.

"I've come to apologize," she said as if the words were unpleasantly flavored, "and to offer my congratulations."

Killian reluctantly let Emma go as the two women curtseyed.

"I have a present for you," Regina said.

Emma's eyes widened.

"And it's nothing like the last one, I assure you," Regina went on with a small, self-deprecating smile.

"I... I'm honored, Grandmother," Emma said stiffly.

"Oh, ugh, don't ever call me that," Regina said, grimacing. "I'd rather you call me Regina."

"As you say… Regina," Emma said, dipping her head again.

Regina gestured with one hand and Emma felt the magic in the air as Killian gasped behind her. She looked at him, but he was staring at Regina with wide eyes, holding himself stiffly.

Emma turned back to face the queen.

"What—" Emma began.

"I assumed that you might wish to have a double ring ceremony," Regina said conversationally, "which would be difficult considering your pirate's condition."

Emma's head whipped in Killian's direction again, and she saw that he was holding his left wrist in his right hand. His wooden appendage was gone, the ruffled cuff of his shirt fluttering over the empty space at the end of his arm.

"You'll have to assist me," Regina said, drawing Emma's attention back to her. "It's a tricky bit of magic, and my talents do not lie in the art of healing."

Emma's mouth fell open in sudden understanding.

Her eyes flitted back and forth between Regina's cool expression and Killian's look of surprise.

"Do you want this?" Emma asked, meeting Killian's gaze.

He nodded, his adam's apple bobbing.

"Aye," he breathed, blinking. "I do."

Emma nodded and gave him a tiny smile before turning back to Regina.

"What do I need to do?" Emma asked.

"You focus on the goal," Regina said. "Magic comes from emotion, from desire. If you supply the raw power, I can shape the spell."

Emma nodded.

"Look at him," Regina said. "Concentrate on the desired outcome, and embrace your magic but don't direct it."

Emma held Killian's eyes, feeling tears welling in her own.

His eyes were wide and intent, full of a wide range of flickering emotions.

Emma let her eyes flutter closed for just a moment as she found the power within herself. She felt it blossom warmly through her like a flower opening to the sun.

When she opened her eyes, Emma saw her own magic radiating out from her as a golden glow that bathed Killian in warm light. She smiled at him and he returned the expression.

Regina stepped around then, tugging Killian's maimed arm up into the light. She flipped back the ruffled sleeve, but Emma's eyes didn't waver.

Emma felt a tug at her power as Regina embraced her own magic and started to weave the spell, channeling it toward Killian's arm.

Emma thought she might have to sleep for a month after this, but she didn't care. Her smile widened as she felt the intricate threads of magic being woven into a healing charm.

Regina gently pressed the magic to Killian's ancient wound, and Emma felt the flow of life touched him.

It made Killian gasp, his eyes crinkling as if he was feeling something intense. Pain? Pleasure? Heat? Cold? Emma didn't know what the spell would feel like to him, but he was clearly affected.

The light of Emma and Regina's combined magic intensified, almost whiting out everything on the balcony. Wind picked up around them, swirling into a vortex around the spell. Emma could just see Killian's eyes and his wildly flapping hair. Anything below of between them was lost in the brightness of the incantation. Emma felt her own hair being tugged by the swirling air.

She held Killian's gaze, watching his face contort in ways that made heat shoot to the pit of her stomach. Something about the way his mouth moved silently as his eyes tightened and his jaw clenched made her blush. She channeled that heat into the spell, too.

The wind grew stronger, and soon the hair of all three of them stood straight up, their clothing buffeted and their vision disturbed by the intense gale and the bright white light of the spell.

Emma heard Killian cry out wordlessly, and then Regina gave a huff of breath, closing herself off from her magic. Emma sagged, too, feeling the power drain from her and tiredness settle in her bones.

All three of them slumped to the tiles of the balcony, breathing hard.

Emma heard a commotion from the other side of the balcony doors, but it sounded like Robin was barring the way.

The princess crawled toward Killian, who was staring at his restored left hand with a dumbstruck expression. He had tears in the corners of his eyes. Emma didn't know if they were from joy or pain.

He looked up at her, his face full of awe. He reached for her, tentatively, like he thought she might recoil, but she leaned into in, letting him lay his new fingers along her cheek.

He let out a choked noise and then drew her to him, pulling her half into his lap so he could kiss her as he stroked her cheeks and neck with both hands.

"Thank you," he whispered against her lips. Then he pulled back to look across at Regina.

"Thank you, your majesty," he said fervently, dipping his head into as much of a bow as he could make while sitting on the floor with a girl pressed against him.

"Don't mention it," Regina breathed, trying for confident, but sounding exhausted.

They had just a few more heartbeats of privacy before Emma heard her father's voice on the other side of the partition, hard and demanding.

Killian stood, pulling Emma up with him, then he offered his right hand to Regina.

"I'm fine," she said a little gruffly, rising unsteadily to her feet under her own merit.

Regina tapped on the balcony door and it immediately opened, revealing Robin, Tinkerbell, and Neal. David and Snow stood just beyond them, ringed by a hundred curious onlookers.

Robin immediately took Regina's arm, though she made a half-hearted attempt to shake him off.

David stepped forward, his eyes roving over them, taking in their windswept appearance before finally landing on Killian's left hand, which he was still flexing and turning—a habit Emma imagined he would keep up for some time.

"Oh," David said, eyes widening. He looked back and forth between the three of them. "Oh!"

"I asked for your daughter's hand," Killian said, his voice shaky at first, but filling with his usual cocky tone, "but it seems the queen wanted to give me one as well."

He held up his left hand, and Emma heard her mother gasp.

A collective murmur when through the crowd.

"Regina," Snow said, her voice taking on a note of awe.

"Is rather tired," Robin said gently but firmly. "I think we'll be taking our leave for the evening."

He turned to face Emma, giving her a little nod.

"Happy birthday, your royal highness," he said.

Emma dipped as best she could on shaking feet, leaning on Killian.

She was exhausted, too, but also euphoric.

Emma's parents parted to allow Regina and Robin through. Neal and Tinkerbell backed away, giving Emma and Killian some room.

David tugged on his wife's elbow, turning her and leading her away. He gestured for the band to begin again, and pulled Snow into his arms for a waltz.

The crowd slowly started to disperse, some dancing, others wandering away. Some continued to gawk, but most had enough manners to do so unobtrusively.

Emma looked up into Killian's blue eyes.

He seemed to be filled with excited energy.

"How do you feel?" he asked her, speaking softly into her ear, raising goose bumps across her neck.

She shivered.

"I'm fine," she said. "Happy."

He nodded, searching her face.

"Tired?" he asked, giving her a small smile, touching her cheek with his fresh, smooth fingers again. They made a stark contrast to his right hand's callused skin.

He was being a little more affectionate than was strictly proper, but she thought most people could forgive it, considering the situation.

"A little," she admitted, "but I'm so glad, grateful. Excited."

"Would you care to dance?" he asked eagerly.

"Yes," she said with a little laugh.

She took both of his hands in her own and let him lead her further into the ballroom.

Once they were past the edge of the crowd, Killian pulled her to him and took her right hand firmly into his left, threading their fingers together.

It wasn't the proper grip for a waltz, but Emma didn't think he intended to let her go during the dance.

And she was right.

He held her close, squeezing her hand occasionally and twirling joyfully across the room. He never released her for a spin or a promenade, but held her tight against his chest. He grinned broadly throughout the dance, a joyous chuckle occasionally bubbling up from his chest.

Emma joined him in his laughter, giddy and dizzy from his manic footwork.

When the music finally came to a close, he stroked her cheek and kissed her again in front of her parents and all the assembled witnesses, and Emma couldn't bring herself to care.

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