"Papa, Papa! I want to play the knights and dragons game again!" Neal yelled. He bounced around the house happily dressed in a white cape made from his unused bed sheets. Cameron and Neal had been playing all day. It happens when you have a rambunctious six year old in the house. They'd have to get it all cleaned up before Milah came home, but there was no harm in having a bit of father-son bonding time. The look Neal had whenever he had time to play made it all worth it.

"Alright, we can, just once more," he paused and waited for his son's reaction, which was a jump in the air and a prompt "Yes!" following.

"You like being the knight that slays the dragon, don't you?"

Neal nodded vehemently. He picked up his empty paper towel roll that had been his sword as if he were preparing to do battle once again. Cameron got in position. It was hard to maneuver himself in these games with his one bad leg, but Neal never minded his slowness. He supposed his son was just grateful for his company.

Just as they'd gotten ready, Gold and Neal hunched dragon vs knight, Neal stopped for a moment and stood back up straight.

"I think it would be cool if you could play the knight this time, Papa," he said thoughtfully.

"Why?" Gold asked as he straightened himself. Neal took no time with his reply.

"I always play the knight. I've never seen you as a knight before. You'd be great. I also wanna pretend to be slayed, that'd be awesome," he marveled.

Cameron shook his head. "Alright." he replied. "But I'm afraid it won't be so enthralling. I can't run, I'm afraid." Cameron gestured to his leg and held up his cane.

Neal smiled. "That's okay. I can go slower and it'll be just as fun."

Well, he couldn't argue with that. At least not in the face of Neal's excitement.

"Then shall we get started?"

Neal giggled and nodded.

The tables had been turned, and instead of Gold being the one to pretend to flee from Neal, he was coming after Neal as the shining hero of their make-believe world while Neal was making noises and batting his arms for wings playing the dragon. They ran, or rather -walked with speed- through the house as Neal pretended to evade Cameron's attempts to catch him.

Eventually there came a point where Neal became vulnerable. He was cornered onto his bed in his room and Gold pretended to jab his cane at Neal. It didn't make skin contact of course, but Neal got the message. He froze up immediately, and began to giggle hysterically as he fell directly backwards onto the bed, having been defeated.

Gold couldn't suppress his own laughter. Neal laughed along with him and they stayed like that for some time simply enjoying the moment. Their little game had come to an end with hilarious conclusion. Gold couldn't think of anything that made him happier than seeing Neal having so much fun. If he could provide that, any game, no matter how silly, was worth it.

Before long, Neal sat up, his eyes filled with tears of mirth. He wiped them away. "You're a really good knight, dad. You were better than me."

"Oh, I find that hard to believe," He took a seat next to Neal on the edge of the bed. "I'm sure an actual knight wouldn't have had the dragon go easy on him so he could catch up."

Neal shook his head. "That's okay. Dragons are way way faster than knights anyways! The knight still wins!"

Cameron smiled and ruffled Neal's feathery brown hair. Neal grinned.

"Let's get this mess cleaned up before your mother is home," He laughed as Neal's face scrunched up in disgust. Neal bounced off the bed and ran in front back to the living room. Gold followed.

Neal never did play the knight again.

Present Day

Gold sat in his study, turning through old photos in scrapbooks. He tried to avoid doing it any other time of the year - the pain of his loss made stronger by the sentimentality of it. He found that the hurt never really left him. Although the ache had dulled in years past since Neal had gone, it would never completely fade. Some days were harder than others, especially today, the fifth anniversary of Neal's death.

He reserved this day in particular as one that he took off work, stayed home and looked through those old memories. There were things he regretted and turned over in his head. Things like working too much when Neal was younger, the constant fights with Milah before they divorced, not always being the most accepted person in town - something that affected Neal's social life at times.

But mostly, there were good memories. There were memories of the games they used to play, going to Neal's football matches, taking him out for ice cream, reading him bedtime stories. Then when he was older there was teaching him how to drive - despite how nerve wracking it was, watching him graduate high school, marry his sweetheart, Emma, being there with him whenever Henry was born. These were all just the tip of the iceberg when it came to how many wonderful memories they'd shared.

He stroked one of the photos of Neal walking with Emma, both of them holding Henry's hands between them. Neal was in midstep, looking lovingly down at his son as they swung him between them. Henry's smile was identical to Neal's at that age. That boy was the spitting image of his father.

Cameron couldn't be prouder of what an amazing man and parent his son had become.

"Hard to believe it's already been five years," he whispered.

A heartbeat passed before he felt arms wrap around him from behind. It startled him at first, but he relaxed into the embrace. He felt her cheek press against his. Belle.

They'd been together three years, and married for one so far, but they'd known each other longer. She'd been a good friend of Neal's before he died. Cameron had harbored feelings for her for quite some time before they'd decided to make a go of it. Most of the time leading up to it he'd spent admiring her from afar, unsure of what to say or how to act around her. He tried to keep his feelings secret but looking back he now realized he'd been painfully obvious. When he'd visit Neal and Belle would stop by, Neal never questioned his slightly awkward behavior and probably took his quietness as the usual. Either the idea that he fancied Belle French had passed over his head, or he willfully didn't question it.

Perhaps he even knew Belle felt the same. This was a possibility which had not occurred to Cameron at the time. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, and now he couldn't believe they'd waited so long to confess their feelings to each other.

"Are you alright?" Belle asked. He let out a gusty sigh and used his hand that was unoccupied with the photo to stroke Belle's arm. He hadn't managed to be overwrought by the emotion just yet. He'd held it together rather successfully so far, so that was a small victory, he supposed.

"I am," He tilted his head towards her and tried to smile, not quite making it. "I've just been thinking. Remembering, more like."

She nodded, standing straighter and retracting her arms so that her hands were on his shoulders. She rubbed them in a soothing manner for a moment before clearing a spot on his desk that had been covered by paperwork. She pushed herself onto it so that she could sit to his side and face him.

Belle wasn't sure if she was even welcome company at the moment. Not that she thought she wasn't wanted there, but she thought he might prefer to look over the photos in private for now. It was a hard day for him, for her, Emma and Henry, and the whole town.

She placed a hand over top of his on the desk.

"I can leave, if you'd prefer to be alone a bit longer," she offered, squeezing his hand a bit tighter.

He met her eyes and turned over his hand underneath hers so that he could hold it. He didn't want to be alone. Her offer was out of courtesy to him and understanding of what he was going through, but he didn't want her to leave. The words didn't come, as much as he'd wanted to tell her that. He settled for squeezing her hand right back and hoping it conveyed his feelings well enough.

Her lips upturned, making her eyes crinkle at the corners. She understood. They sat like that until he finally found his voice again.

"I was thinking about a game Neal and I used to play years ago. I believe he was about six at the time. Our own version of knights and dragons."

"Oh?" Belle urged him to continue.

"It was a silly little game, but he enjoyed it so I played along. Usually, he'd be the knight and I'd be the dragon. He'd chase me all over the house," he remembered. Belle raised one perfect eyebrow in response.

That elicited a self-deprecating smile from him.

"I wasn't very fast as you might have guessed. It didn't matter to him. He adhered to my speed and we couldn't have gone fast anyways. I wouldn't want him running full speed through the house," he explained. "One day, he decided he wanted to have me play the knight. I thought it was preposterous. How much fun could that possibly be?"

"We did it anyways, because he wanted it. I think it's the hardest I've ever seen that boy laugh," He shook his head, fondness overtaking his features. Belle's eyes glistened.

"He never wanted to play the knight again after that day. He always had me do it. I think about it sometimes, and I still wonder why. I'm far from the hero sort," he wondered. Belle took her chance to interject.

"You know, that doesn't really come as a surprise to me - him wanting you to play the knight, I mean," A confused look came over him, and Belle leaned closer. "You always were his hero. You are his hero."

And here he thought he'd actually keep it together this year. Those words hit home in a way he didn't expect. Belle said it so earnestly and with such conviction, she believed it with all her heart and she willed him to believe it too. His throat grew too tight for his liking and when his eyes started to sting, Belle had her arms around him in an instant.

He held his breath to will it away. Neal wouldn't want tears over it, he knew, and he hoped he'd get through it without them this year. It seemed that wasn't in the cards and fighting his grief was draining. He brought his arms up to return the embrace and ended up with fistfuls of fabric from the back of her dress.

Belle moved her hand up his back to his neck and carded her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and his breath hitched, threatening to undo his efforts to keep from spiraling out of control in her arms.

After a few moments with Belle's cheek pressed to his hair and her soothing gesture on the back of his neck, he managed to stroke her back and pressed gentle kisses to her ear.

Belle pulled back whenever she knew he was ready, not shocked to find a few tears had escaped, possibly without his knowledge. She took his face in her hands and used her thumbs to wipe them away as she gave him an understanding smile. He looked tired.

She didn't blame him. This day was always hard on him as it was everyone - including herself. The whole day she'd been by his side, unsure whether she was wanted there or if he would like to have time to himself, though the gesture he gave her earlier told her she was very much wanted around. She'd only left him for a short time to do some cleaning and grab the mail. What she didn't expect to find was an envelope that looked highly important. It resembled one sent by the monarchy which she thought peculiar.

She'd gone back to his study with the envelope in hand ready to ask if he had expected anything so major when she walked in to find him in deep thought over his pictures. Since then, she'd lain it on the desk before he had even noticed she was there and -

Her eyes widened. Where did she put it? She tried to look around subtly, not wanting to bother Cam with it. When he caught notice she cringed.

"What is it?" he asked. Belle bit her lip.

"I just had a letter for you," She looked around more obviously now, still unable to catch sight of the darn thing. "I brought it with me but I didn't want to bother you. Now I can't seem to find it."

"Was it important?"

"It looked to be, yes, but nothing that couldn't wait until later. The mail should be the least of your worries today."

A soft laugh cut off her frantic search. Surprised to hear the sound, she turned her head to look. He gave her an amused look and took both of her hands.

"It's alright, sweetheart. Honestly, I could actually use a distraction right now," he assured. His gaze drifted the length of her and she saw him cock his head to the side, focusing on something right behind her. He reached around her and when he pulled his hand back, a perfectly creased envelope came with it.

"Ah, I believe we've found it," He gave the envelope a little shake and studied it.

Opening it, he skimmed the paper briefly before standing up, his brow furrowing as he read the words on the paper. As he moved from his desk to walk towards the center of the room, Belle hopped down from where she had been sitting on the desk and turned around to face him. His expression was peculiar and she couldn't ascertain whether it was out of concern or simply confusion. Either way, the longer he stood there in silence, the more nervous she became.

He cleared his throat. "Well, well."

"What is it?" she asked, as she moved around him to try and see the letter. He handed it to her before she could even lean in to look. She took it from him and he didn't move except to rub the light stubble on his chin, lips tight as if he were contemplating something. She spared him a glance before turning her attention to the paper.

She read the words slowly, allowing them to sink in. Paragon of business success. Reputable lawyer. Charity. Knighthood. Knight Commander. Order of the British Empire. These were the words that her eyes kept skimming over repeatedly.

She looked back to him, her mouth now slightly agape.

"Cam... they want to knight you?"

"Must be some sort of joke, right?" he responded, eyebrows drawn.

"What? No! Why would it be?" His response confused her. To be recognized for his achievements must be a good thing, she thought. Despite that, she couldn't help feeling like he wasn't exactly happy with it.

When he didn't answer her she leaned in front of his line of sight to catch his attention. She folded the paper back into the conformation it had been in inside the envelope and then placed her hands on his shoulders.

"Tell me what you're thinking?" she coaxed.

"I just don't understand why. It isn't that I'm not pleased with it. I simply think there are plenty of others more deserving, and not to mention, more…" He searched for the word. "Likeable."

She took a step forward to close some distance between them. She raised a hand up from her shoulder to push a strand of hair away from his face and play with the gray streak near his temple. He leaned into her touch.

"You want to know what I think?" Belle questioned.

"I want to know everything you think," he purred, contentment in his voice at her ministrations. She bit back on the urge to giggle. He always did like it when she played with his hair.

"I think there is no one more deserving of this title than you," she said. "I daresay they should have offered it to you sooner. Look at everything you've accomplished, Cam. You've built a business empire from the ground up, you're a lawyer with quite the winning streak, and you may be loath to admit it, but you've been very charitable."

"Those things aren't special, Belle. Plenty of people have done the same," Gold protested.

"Maybe they have. But you are excellent at it. They wouldn't give you this if they didn't absolutely think so."

He swallowed, unsure of what to say in the face of her stern belief. Unsure if he believed it himself.

She leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips, lingering there for a moment as she tried to imbue it with confirmation that she had meant what she said. She hoped the words were enough to convince him. She drew back and they touched their foreheads together, an affectionate gesture to which they'd become accustomed.

"You're certain?" he murmured. The sound was so quiet she was sure she would have missed it had they not been so close together.

"I am," she replied, leaning back enough to get a full view of his face. "Neal would be so proud. His Papa is going to be a real knight now." Happy tears welled in her eyes again. So much love shown in his gaze, it nearly took her breath. A second later his arms were encircling her in another embrace and she heard his sharp exhale - the kind given in disbelief.

"Oh, Belle," he breathed. His arms wrapped tighter around her. She had hers around his neck, still holding onto the envelope from earlier. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

That got a laugh out of her. "Of course you have. Frequently, in fact." she grinned.

"I love you, too." she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. They swayed back and forth a bit, and she took in his scent. The rest of the room fell to the wayside as she closed her eyes and focused on his arms around her, really feeling him. She was glad for the one piece of good news that came their way on such a sober day. If anyone deserved to be knighted, it was Cameron. He worked hard to get where he is in life. To say he had a bad childhood would be an understatement. The fact he has come so far from where he started is truly inspirational. Whether other people in town agreed or disagreed with that was irrelevant. He had been recognized for his accomplishments, and that's what mattered. She couldn't be happier.

A curious thought occurred to her just then.

"Sir Cameron Gold," she tested, her lips curving up in amusement. "It has a lovely ring to it, don't you think?"

"I'll take your word for it," Cameron gave her a shy look. He certainly had a way with being modest. "I think Lady Belle Gold sounds far better."

Belle beamed. It felt like a fairytale to her in some ways, Cam being knighted. She'd heard of the honor plenty of times, but it never occurred to her it could be bestowed upon anyone she knew, so she never much thought of the possibility. Now that this was happening it felt a bit surreal. The idea of having the title "Lady" also tickled her like mad. None of it would be official until after he accepted and went through the induction ceremony, but that would be at best six weeks off.

Tomorrow they could talk about it more and discuss details. Today, time was to be spent in other ways. She changed the subject.

"Would you be agreeable to visiting Emma and Henry today? We don't have to tell them the news, I know it isn't the day for it. But we could just see how they are doing? It's a hard day for them as well," she said, unsure if he would be willing. Every year since Neal died, she'd known him to keep to himself. While Emma and Henry didn't attempt to bridge the gap either, it was entirely possible that the two sides were just too nervous to approach. They all got along just fine otherwise. It was just this day so full of loss and memories and hurting that kept them away from each other. She wouldn't force him if he didn't want to, however. She just thought maybe it would do some good for all of them.

He seemed to consider it. Belle could tell whenever he had made his decision, his expression changing from one of contemplation to one of acceptance, a little doubt still clouding his features. "We could. I had wanted to pay them a visit and spend some time with Henry to begin with, I just hadn't planned on it until tomorrow. I suppose we could do that today. The company may still be unwelcome, but we'll try."

Belle nodded. She could understand why he might feel that way. In his mind she expected it was a matter of Emma and Henry not coming to visit equally as much as it had been his reason not to go see them. It didn't matter, though. She was sure it would be just fine. Henry at the very least would love a visit from his grandfather. That would be enough to make even a brief stay worthwhile.

"Just give me a few minutes to get ready," she told him, turning away. It was just a matter of putting her hair up and getting her coat and shoes. It would only take a few minutes.

When she came back, she found him standing by the window on the opposite side of his desk. He had turned back around whenever he heard her come in. She was just about to tell him she was ready to go when she noticed he stood twisting his wedding ring on his finger, uncertainty clear in his posture. Slowly, she made her way forward.

By the time she reached him, the courage he had been trying to work up paid off and he finally spoke:

"Did you mean what you said? About Neal being proud?"

Perhaps it was because she had been good friends with Neal. Or maybe it was simply that he put a very high value on her opinion. The reasons weren't so important. She knew there were a great many things that he regretted doing a certain way, or not doing, when Neal was growing up. Neal never held anything against him, and he'd been a wonderful father. Still, it was important to him to try and live a life that would do right by Neal's all-too-short one. If he needed to hear the words again, she would tell him as many times as it took for him to believe it.

"Absolutely I did. I never had a doubt."

He ducked his head slightly but she caught his sheepish smile. If she looked hard enough she would even say a slight coloration rose to his cheeks. It made her feel warm and fuzzy, and full of love.

"Now, shall we go to Emma's, hm?" she asked, cocking her head to the side and holding out her hand for him.

He nodded in agreement, feeling a tiny bit lighter now than he had the entire day. He took her hand.

"We shall."