#a gift for kmomof4

[kmomof4]

All me reading this GLORIOUS fic from the beginning!!!! Cannot WAIT for the next chapter!!!!!

Burn The Ships (1/?)

THIS IS/WILL BE MATURE.

NOW WITH BEAUTIFUL COVER ART BY @snowbellewells

AO3 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

Summary: Pan and his pack of gruesome werewolves torment and put an end to individuals who find themselves unlucky enough to be a guest of Neverland. After being betrayed by her ex, Emma finds herself the game in this month’s hunt.

Captain Hook has never found the sport particularly alluring, preferring to spend his change far from Pan’s cruel crew. When he catches the scent of his mate, he is forced to join in the hunt to find her before the others can.

Saving her will mean betraying Pan and no one betrays Peter Pan and lives to tell about it.

@anmylica, @deckerstarblanche, @elfiola, @goforlaunchcee, @jrob64, @kmomof4 , @pirateswhore, @stahlopp, @teamhook, @tiganasummertreee, @undercaffinatednightmare, @xarandomdreamx, @zaharadessert

Author Note: This little fic is a birthday gift for the always encouraging and absolutely wonderful @kmomof4. I was initially drawn to Moonlight Sonata because it is also one of my favourites and the story behind the song felt like Killian meeting Emma for the first time. (I also love Für Elise but it doesn’t make me think of CS as much as Snowing and I cannot really explain that.) Then, I thought “oooh, CS PHANTOM OF THE OPERA?!” for about thirty seconds before realising that maybe I did not want to take that on while I was trying to finish up Witchy Woman and plotting the CS Miraculous Fic and that one Bridgerton-based CS Fic. But, then, I listened to Burn the Ships and read about the inspiration behind those lyrics and absolutely knew that was the one. What is more Captain Swain than battling demons (internal and external) and enduring together? Anywhoosies, HAPPY BIRTHDAY (this month)!! Thank you so much for all the flails, the sanity checking, the gifs, the cheerleading, and for just generally being one of the brightest lights in all of our lives. (Edit: atge birthday is on the 15th, I know. This whole thing happened where this was a two-parter and now it is a whole long thing and the posting schedule SHOULD work out so the whole thing is done by the 15th.)

Emma woke to the harsh sunlight infiltrating the discoloured curtains hanging limply over the large window her lumpy mattress had been pushed against. This was the worst part of her day - these moments in which the lie of her dreams, even the worst of them, gave way to the nightmarish truth of her reality. She fought against the dread seeping into her heart and tried to hold on to the last remnants of her dream, but it faded away as the scarred wardrobe came into clearer focus before her.

Despair, however, was less easily shaken. That endless emptiness accompanied her as she started toward the water basin to splash cold water on her face. Her gaze lifted to meet the empty emerald eyes she knew would stare back at her. She had watched helplessly as the hope drained from them, over the last several months, taking with it the anger and defiance that once glimmered behind them.

Fantasies, like hope, were for those with people or a pack, who cared. Lone wolves, orphaned at birth and betrayed to the monster who ruled this island by their shitty ex-fiancées, weren’t missed. And without any to notice your absence, who would know to rescue you?

“Cheer up,” a cheerful boyish voice chirped from behind her. She jumped and spun around - having your back to the demon was never a good idea. Pan was there, in the middle of the dreary room, looking at her with a dark sort of crazed humour dancing behind his eyes. That look meant he had a new twisted game to play. Her stomach fell and icy fear gripped her heart - losing came at a high price in Neverland and she always lost.

“As you doubtlessly know, the moon will be full tonight.” Pan paused and waited for her to respond. As if any wolf would be oblivious to the phases of the moon, she buried her annoyance at the patronising question and nodded for him to continue. “Tonight, I am letting you out of the garden. You’ll get to run the length of the island.”

Emma knew there was a catch, but after spending several transformations pacing the tiny gated garden, the prospect of running had her heart racing with excitement.

“As you lead us in tonight’s hunt.”

Her blood turned to ice in her veins. She was going to die tonight.

§§§§ §§§§ §§§§ §§§§

“OOOHHHH, CAPTAIN!” A sing-song voice called from somewhere high on the main mast.

“Pan, to what do we owe this unexpected visit?” Hook called back genially. He swept his arms out wide, in a welcoming gesture, discretely sliding the small vial into a hidden pocket of his coat.

Pan flew lower, hovering just above head height, forcing Killian to look up at him. A sweet scent filled the air between, something soft and warm. Killian couldn’t hear Pan's next words as the wolf within tried to locate the source of the scent. With the change coming so soon, Killian knew he would struggle to fight the impulses of the wolf. He had to get away from this enchanting distraction before Pan noticed his attention was elsewhere.

“Let’s discuss whatever business you have away from listening ears.” Hook gestured toward the ladder leading to his quarters, hoping the breeze would not penetrate the boards.

“As you well know, the hunt will be tonight. I do hope you and your crew will attend.” Pan started, as Killian filled a glass with rum in an effort to steady himself. The room around him was saturated with the warm - Vanilla? No, not quite. What is the point of being a bloody wolf if I can’t determine a bleeding smell? - scent. Could a scent be alluring and inviting? Because Killian felt an inexplicable sense of contentedness, something cosy he was drawn to like the heat of a fire, that seemed directly related to the sudden arrival of the scent. Was this possibly a new torture device derived from this cruel realm?

"What do you say, Captain?" Pan sneered, the last word sounding as an insult rather than a well-earned title.

"I'll not be joining your pack of savage, cruel beasts as they set out to torment an innocent you have captured for a barbaric ritual of bloodlust and cruelty."

"We're all wolves, Hook," Pan responded. "You can keep to your ridiculous code, acting as though you are a gentleman despite the tasks you perform in your service to me. But, you cannot deny that the same blood-thirsty animal lives under your skin. One day, you'll relish letting the darkness play alongside my pack. We're the same at the heart of it."

"I am nothi…"

"Ah, ah, Captain, you wouldn't want to say anything regretful, now, would you?" Pan smiled his cruelest smile and Killian swallowed down his annoyance. The last time Killian had crossed Pan still hurt as fresh as the night Pan’s pack had stolen Milah’s pup from his ship. Killian heard Bae’s weak howls from the depths of the Mermaid Lagoon and raced toward his ship as quickly as possible in the dense jungle. When his paws landed with heavy thuds on the wooden gangway, the overly sweet, coppery smell of blood filled the air - air that was notably barren of any of the sounds or scents that had made the Jolly Roger home. Without even a single survivor to share the burden of grief and burial, laying his sailors to rest had taken days - purging the Jolly of all evidence of the massacre had taken much longer.

“Aye,” Killian growled out.

“Good, lad.” Pan evaporated, leaving him alone in his cabin. The sweet scent that had entranced him moments before faded away. Realisation dawning, Killian swore but did nothing to soothe the sudden rage burning hot through him.

The bloody demon had his mate.

[laianely]

Enchanted

We also had Secret Santa on one cute discord server. And this is my gift for @priscilla9993 ! Merry Christmas, Pris! Tag people who may be interested: @killianxswan @teamhook @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @caught-in-the-filter @tiganasummertree @stahlords @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @zaharadessert @bluewildcatfanatic @once-upon-a-happy-end @ultraluckycatnd @qualitycoffeethings @deckerstarblanche

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

The Role of Daddy Charming--A birthday gift for @jrob64

The Role of Daddy Charming

Rating: PG

Relationship: Daddy Charming and Captain Swan

Summary: 4x2 “deleted scene”.  David Nolan had played many roles in his life, but by far the one he's found most important was that of “dad”. The fact that he hadn’t been able to be there for Emma throughout the first 28 years of her life was one of his greatest regrets, so when he noticed the infamous Captain Hook’s interest in his daughter–and even more concerning, her returning that interest–he was determined to intervene. That is, of course, until she was trapped behind an ice wall, and David saw just how deeply and sincerely Killian Jones truly loved her.

Also posted here: ao3

Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list): @sailormew4 @annaamell @flslp87 @emmateo26 @bethacaciakay 

@ultraluckycatnd @effulgent-mind @ilovemesomekillianjones @brooke-to-broch 

@missgymgirl @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven @charmingturkeysandwich 

@jennjenn615 @laschatzi @kimmy46 @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma

@daxx04 @nickillian  @gillie  @britishguyslover @ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst

@kmomof4 @linda8084 @golfgirld @captain-swan-coffee @searchingwardrobes 

@hollyethecurious @laughswaytoomuch  @allyourdarlingswans  @winterbaby89 @facesiousbutton82 

@therooksshiningknight @lfh1226-linda @tiganasummertree @jrob64  @anmylica 

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @i-will-sing-no-requiem @bluewildcatfanatic @laianely

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's finally done! I'm sorry your birthday gift is 11 days late @jrob64, but I hope you've at least enjoyed the little snippets I posted on discord as I wrote this! Happy belated birthday!

And without further ado....

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Throughout his life, David Nolan had played many roles.  He’d been a son, a brother, a shepherd, a prince, a vet tech, a sheriff’s deputy, but by far, the roles he took most seriously were his roles as husband and father.

If there’s one thing he’d known all his life, it was that he wanted to be a better father than he’d had.  He wanted to be present in his children’s lives.  He’d vowed never to abandon them.

And so it was the greatest regret of his life that he’d done just that mere minutes after his daughter was born.  

Granted, he was forced into the action; it was necessary to protect Emma and give her her best chance.  Still, the shame and heartbreak of that decision had haunted him for the past twenty-nine years.

Surprisingly, during the first curse he’d felt it still, even if he hadn’t known what it was.  More often than he cared to recall, he’d had vague dreams of the black knights, of the wardrobe, of being ripped from someone vitally important to him.  The gloom and near despair of those dreams hung over him like a thundercloud. He’d woken feeling–knowing–that he wasn’t enough, that he’d failed at the most important task of his life.

Once he’d regained his memories and once he realized Emma was back in his life, he’d vowed to make up for lost time, to be the father she’d always needed, to protect her at all costs.

And so it was, when he sat at his kitchen table silently sipping his coffee and staring sightlessly out the window on the morning after the incident at the ice wall, he felt relief…but also helplessness.  He’d almost lost her.  Again.

Snow came up behind him, wrapped an arm around his shoulder and kissed his cheek before taking a seat next to him.

“That’s quite the bleak look on your face,” she whispered. Elsa was, after all, presumably still asleep behind the curtain they’d draped in front of the sofa to give her a bit of privacy. “Yesterday really shook you up, didn’t it?”

He blew out a long breath. “She came this close to freezing to death on my watch, Snow.”

She took his hand and squeezed it.  “But she didn’t.  From all I’ve heard, you were magnificent.  Took charge and found a way to save her.”

He chuckled humorlessly. “I was terrified, but Killian…Killian was, if anything, even worse.  Never seen a man so completely panicked.”

“He loves her,” she said simply, a radiant smile on her face. “I wouldn’t have believed it when we first met him in the Enchanted Forest, but he’s a good man, and he truly loves her.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that impression,” David agreed.  “Did you know I gave him that ‘What are your intentions with my daughter?’ speech yesterday before…well…everything?”

“Really?  What did he say?”

“First he gave me hell for being old-fashioned, and then he told me he wouldn’t risk his life for someone he considered loot.  And if there was still any doubt in my mind before the ice wall incident, his reaction removed it.  Whatever else I could say about him, I know he loves her.”

Snow sipped her coffee.  “Maybe you should tell him that.  Give him your blessing, if you will.”

David grimaced.  He may be–grudgingly–willing to admit it to his wife in the privacy of their own kitchen, but admitting it to Hook’s face…well, he wasn’t sure.  “Yeah, maybe when I see him again,” he hedged.

“Perfect,” Snow said.  “You’ll probably have the opportunity any minute, whenever Emma and Hook get up.”

“What?!”

“He stayed the night with her,” Snow said with a grin. “You didn’t know?”

As if to confirm Snow’s statements, Emma and Killian emerged together from the loft. David felt his innate protective dad instincts flared to life.  If Hook had taken advantage of Emma in her vulnerable post-nearly-freezing-to-death state…

“Remember what we just talked about.  He loves her,” Snow murmured only loud enough for him to hear.

David let out a long breath.  She was right.  Reacting badly now would likely only make things worse. “Fine,” he murmured back.

“Morning!” Snow called sunnily to the couple entering the kitchen, as well as Elsa who had just emerged from behind her curtain.  “Anyone want breakfast?”

“Thanks, but I’ve got to get to the station,” Emma said, “I’m sure the phones were blowing up last night with calls about the ice wall.”

“I also must decline,” Killian said, scratching behind his ear.  “I should…get back to Granny’s.”

“See you later for lunch?” Emma asked, looking up at Hook with an open–and what David thought was rather nauseatingly besotted–look.  At his answer in the affirmative, she headed out.

Snow nudged David, and he rolled his eyes.  No time like the present, he supposed.  “Let me give you a lift back to town, Hook,” he said, “I’m headed that direction anyway.”

Hook gave him a wary look, and for a moment, David hoped he was about to decline the offer.  

No such luck.

“I’d appreciate it, mate.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The first minute of their drive was passed in silence.  Killian side-eyed David uncomfortably, wondering when the questions–or probably more precisely, the accusations–would start.

His first inclination was to rile the man up further with sly grins and insinuations about what went on in the Charming’s loft the night before–after all his dashing rapscallion persona was a clock he’d worn as a shield for more years than he could count–but he quickly dismissed it.

This was Swan’s father.  If he truly wished to have a relationship with her–and he did; he wished for a relationship lasting roughly in the neighborhood of forever–it wouldn’t do to antagonize her father.  There was also the fact that he genuinely liked the man, and so…

“You know nothing…untoward…happened last night,” Killian said.

David glanced at him before turning back to the road with a grimace.  “Didn’t ask.  Don’t want to know.”

“Nevertheless,” Killian continued, “Your daughter and I certainly have more respect for you and Snow than to…engage in certain activities…underneath your very nose, not to mention the fact that her lad slept not ten feet from us.”

“Like I said, I didn’t ask,” David repeated, although Killian noted the way the other man’s face relaxed slightly at the reassurance.

“She was still cold,” Killian continued, somehow feeling the need to continue his justification.  “She asked for me to hold her, and I couldn’t refuse.  After coming so bloody close to losing her…”

David pulled into a parking spot in front of Granny’s but didn’t yet kill the engine.  The look he gave Killian this time was sympathetic, understanding. “Almost losing the woman you love does things to a man.”

“Aye,” Killian agreed.  “It was the same feeling of dread, of helplessness, as when the Crocodile crushed Milah’s heart in front of me.  If it had happened again….”

David placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.  “It didn’t,” he said firmly.  “I’ve been trying to remind myself of that all day.  It didn’t.  You didn’t lose your love and I didn’t lose my daughter.”

There was a long silence, in which Killian wondered if he ought to simply exit the vehicle.  He’d just reached for the door handle to do so when David spoke again, this time looking determinedly out the front window, rather than at him.

“There is….something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Aye?”

“That conversation we started to have yesterday, right before everything went to hell…” he continued, “look, I think I was wrong to ever question your intentions.”

“There’s no need to–” Killian began.

“I think there is,” David replied, finally turning toward to him. “It’s been obvious for a while that you love Emma, and it’s not a love that’s going away anytime soon.”

“It’s not a love that’s going away ever,” Killian said firmly.

“Yeah, I’m inclined to believe that” David said. “Anyway, if there ever had been any question about your feelings and intentions, yesterday got rid of them.  I saw how willing you were to do anything to save her.  I supposed what I’m trying to say is…I apologize for ever doubting you.”

Killian’s eyes widened.  Of all the things he’d expected the prince to say to him “I apologize” was rather far down on the list. “Apology accepted, although it is wholly unnecessary.  As someone who does truly love her, I’m pleased she has a father who cares enough to be a touch over-protective.”

David gave a quick, decisive nod.  “I won’t be old fashioned enough to give you my blessing,” he said, “but…I won’t oppose your relationship.”

“That means a great deal to me,” Killian said, “and I know it would mean a lot to Swan as well.”

“Yeah, well,” David said, “just so we’re clear, if you ever hurt her, I’ll run you through with my sword.”

Killian nodded.  “Mate, if I ever hurt her, I’d let you do it with my own.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that night, Emma was vegging on the couch when her dad finally made it home.  After tossing his jacket onto the coat rack, he joined her, gave her a quick hug and kissed the top of her head.  She was slowly but surely getting used to this casual affection from her parents, and it always gave her such a warm, fuzzy, loved feeling.

“Crazy day, huh?” he asked wryly.

Emma chuckled.  “I guess that depends on what you’re comparing it to.  For Storybrooke it was ho hum.”

It had certainly been a busy day.  As she’d expected, they’d had more calls than she could count about the ice wall and the snow monster–or whatever it had been–that had crashed through the town yesterday.  While she and her dad had both been working, they’d been so busy with calls and patrols, they’d barely had a chance to exchange a word all day.

“I guess you’re right about that,” David laughed.  “Any day that doesn’t involve a new villain, monster or crisis is a win around here.”

They lapsed into silence for several moments before Emma spoke again,  “Killian told me about your conversation this morning.”

David gave her a wary look.  “Before you say anything, I do know you’re a grown woman who can make her own decisions.”

She grinned.  “That’s what Killian said at lunch when I started ranting about you treating me like a teenager.  Nothing happened last night, by the way.”

“I know.  Killian told me.”

“Dad,” she said, and her heart turned over at the joy on his face at her use of the word.  “I just….I just want to thank you for, you know, caring and doing whatever you had to to save me.”

“No thanks necessary,” he said.  “You’re my daughter.  I’m always, always going to do everything in my power to help you, no matter the situation.”

She felt the tears come to her eyes.  “I think I’m finally starting to realize that.  Sorry it’s taken so long.  It’s just…I’m not used to having a dad, someone in my corner no matter what.”

Pain came into his eyes at that, and Emma realized how her words had come across. “I’m not blaming you,” she said quickly.  “I know you did what you had to to give me my best chance.”

“Still,” David said, “I wish more than anything that I’d been able to be the father you needed and deserved from the beginning.”

“I wish that too,” she murmured, almost under her breath, “but the past is the past.  You’re here now, and that means everything.”

“And I always will be,” David vowed with a decisive nod.

They lapsed into another silence, broken only by a few soft whimpers from baby Neal as Mary Margaret worked to put him down for the night–or at least as much of the night as he was willing to sleep at any one stretch.

“You know, I wasn’t the only one working frantically to save you last night,” David said slowly.

Emma felt her heart stutter and then soar as she thought of the man to whom her father was referring.  “I know.  Killian told me he’d been worried about me too.”

David blew out a long breath.  “Worried is an understatement.  He was absolutely frantic.  Emma, that man loves you.”

Emma felt the butterflies, that swooping half-excited, half-terrified feeling one gets when she falls head over heels.  She would have to be blind not to see that Killian had fallen in love with her, and she had the sneaking suspicion that somewhere along the way she’d fallen in love with him as well.  Was she ready to admit it?  She wasn’t sure.  That level of vulnerability was scary as hell.

“Yeah, maybe so,” she hedged, trying to make her voice as even as possible, “and I…I…appreciate it.”

David gave her a long look.  “Emma, I know it’s hard for you to trust.  I know it’s hard for you to let yourself believe, and I will have your back one hundred percent whatever you do, but for what it’s worth, I’d give him a chance if I were you.”

“So does that mean you think he’s good enough for me?” Emma teased, uncomfortably aware of the momentous nature of the topic at hand and feeling the need to lighten the mood..

David chuckled.  “You’re my daughter.  No one’s good enough for you, but I suppose if you have to be with someone, he’ll do.”

[jrob64]

Ghosted

Chapter 4 - Attacks

It appears I lied about this story being 4 chapters long, because the muse has spoken and now I have to write an epilogue too. So, I hope you enjoy this next-to-last chapter. And a reminder - don't read this just before going to sleep.

Many huge thanks to my beta @hookedmom and my artists @kmomof4 and @motherkatereloyshipper. You ladies are the best!

If you haven't checked out the great art and stories for this final @cssns event, you are missing out on greatness! They are all spectacular!

STORY SUMMARY: When Emma Swan’s ex-boyfriend dies, she’s haunted by his ghost. Her neighbor, Killian Jones, a ghost hunter who has a YouTube channel, realizes what’s happening and offers to help. However, there’s more at stake than simply helping the apparition move on. There’s also the matter of Killian telling Emma he’s in love with her. 

Rating: M (for intense scenes, language, and possible smut in the epilogue)

Words (Ch. 4): 9055

Previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

Also posted to Ao3 and ffn

He sucked in a breath, knowing what he said next would inevitably change their relationship. He simply didn’t know if it would be for better or worse. Shifting on the couch so he could fully face her, he looked her in the eyes and said, “Don’t you know, Emma? It’s you.”

Her mouth dropped open and her brows shot up over wide eyes. Without taking her gaze from him, she slowly reached over to place the box of Cheez-its on the coffee table. She missed and the box fell, spilling crackers on the floor, but neither of them cared.

“Me?” she asked, her voice sounding as stunned as she looked. “You want to ask me out?”

“Is that so surprising?”

“But I…I thought you just wanted to be friends.”

“Is that all you want us to be?” he asked, beginning to feel a faint glimmer of hope.

“It was at first, when I was getting to know you, and obviously while I was dating Neal, but then…” Her mouth opened and closed wordlessly, as she pulled her feet out of his lap, placing them on the floor and sliding closer to him on the couch.

“Then…what, Emma?” he asked breathlessly.

“I don’t know if you remember this, but one day, Neal followed me home from work and was hanging around outside my door. He kept calling to me, trying to persuade me to let him in. I was just getting ready to open the door to yell at him, when I heard you talking to him.”

She paused. “What did I say?” Killian encouraged.

“You told him that if he really cared about me, he would respect my wishes to be left alone.”

“I do remember that. He told me to fuck off and mind my own business.”

“But you didn’t, and it’s what you said next that made me…begin to think of you as something other than a friend.”

His eyebrow raised in curiosity. “I don’t recall what I said, Love.”

“You said that…that a woman like me is a precious gift who should be told how wonderful she is every day, who shouldn’t be stalked and treated like a piece of property. Neal said something stupid about how you would never have a chance with a woman like me, and you said…”

“If I was ever lucky enough to be with a woman like you, I would treasure every moment and never be foolish enough to let her go,” Killian finished. “I didn’t know you heard all of that.”

“I did and it started me thinking about how lucky someone would be if they were your girlfriend, and then…then I started thinking about how I wished that someone was…me.”

“That was months ago, Emma. Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Why didn’t you ever ask me out after I broke up with Neal?” she shot back.

He chuckled as he reached over to take her hand. “Point taken. Liam told me I was a coward for not asking you out. I denied it, but I guess he was right.”

“You told him about me?”

“I knew he could keep a secret since no one else can see him or hear him,” he grinned.

She studied their interlocked hands where they lay between them on the couch. “So…what happens now?” she asked.

“Now, since it appears you’re open to the idea, and if you accept, we go out on a date.” He expected - hoped - she would show excitement for his suggestion. He was disappointed when she simply began to chew on her lower lip and wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Emma, what is it? Would you rather not…”

“No,” she interrupted quickly. “No, Killian, I want to go out with you, I really do. It’s just…this whole thing with Neal’s ghost…I kind of wish it was over before we start dating. I want us to be able to go out, have fun and enjoy ourselves without being paranoid about his spirit hanging around.”

Killian’s head dropped a bit, but then he nodded. “I understand. The problem is, we have no idea of knowing when he’s going to move on. It’s been six years and Liam is still here.”

Emma whipped around to face him, eyes huge. “You think Neal could haunt me for years?”

“Calm down, Swan,” he soothed. “Liam’s spirit stays because he isn’t unwanted and his reasons for staying aren’t nefarious, like Neal’s. I’m quite sure you won’t have to put up with him for an extended period of time. We have a plan that we think will work.”

“I’m sorry, Killian. I know this isn’t fair to you after I finally admitted I want to date you.”

Dropping her hand, he lifted his arm to put it around her shoulders. “Come here, Love,” he urged. She slid over to curl up against his side. “I’ve waited this long, I can keep waiting for however long it takes his ghost to leave. In the meantime, we can still spend time together.”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed. “This is nice.” Her fingers found the charms on the necklace he always wore, while he caressed her shoulder and periodically pressed kisses to the crown of her head.

After several minutes of comfortable silence, she turned her face up to look at him, sliding her hand up to cup his cheek. As her thumb brushed over his bottom lip, her eyes met his.

Killian watched her lick her lips, her intentions clear. He dipped his head, stopping just short as he flicked his eyes up to hers. The look in her crystal green depths told him what he needed to know. Still, he allowed the final decision to be hers.

She closed the distance, kissing him hesitantly at first, then tilting her head to deepen it. Her fingers stroked through his hair as her tongue traced the seam of his mouth, then slipped inside.

On the rare occasions when Killian pressed a kiss to her forehead, cheek or hand, he had marveled at the softness of her skin. Now, feeling her lips against his, her tongue exploring his mouth, he was drowning in the emotions she was stirring up.

He pulled back slightly and she chased after his lips, then glanced up to meet his awed gaze. His hand cradled her cheek, running silky strands of her hair between his fingers and thumb. Seeming to read his thoughts, she smiled to reassure him that this was indeed happening. Then he was kissing her again, slow and unhurried with a tenderness that he hoped conveyed the depth of his feelings for her.

When they finally broke the kiss, she snuggled back into his side with a contented sigh. “You’re right, Killian. We don’t have to wait for Neal to move on. He shouldn’t be allowed to steal our time together, like he’s stolen my sleep and peace of mind. He has already cost me too much and I’m not going to let him cost me the chance of a relationship with you.”

“You truly want that, Swan?” Killian asked, a sense of wonder evident in his voice.

She looked up at him again. “Yes, I do,” she replied confidently.

He sat up straighter and twisted his body toward her, cradling her face between his hands. “Emma, I would consider it the greatest honor to be in a relationship with you. I meant every word of what I said to Cassidy in the hallway that day. Not a day will go by that I won’t treasure the time I get to spend with you, and I will make sure you know how very special you are.”

She blinked several times and smiled. “Good,” she whispered, before engaging him in another kiss.

After a few more kisses, they cuddled up on the couch and ended up falling asleep there. Killian woke up around 4 AM with neck pain caused by sleeping in an uncomfortable position, but realized Emma was still in his arms. Carefully, he maneuvered both of their bodies until they were lying down, his back against the back of the couch and Emma tucked up against him, so he was spooning her. He was relieved that she didn’t awake - just mumbled something that sounded a lot like his name. Smiling, he wrapped her securely in his arms and fell back to sleep, his nose buried in her sweet mane of hair.

*********

Emma awakened slowly, her senses becoming alert one at a time. The first thing she realized was how safe she felt, something that had been sorely missing for weeks. Her hands found strong forearms wrapped around her middle. They were holding her gently but securely, and while lately she would have instantly panicked, this morning she knew she had nothing to fear. Next, she felt soft puffs of air against the back of her neck, accompanied by muffled snores, making her let out a small giggle. She also detected a delightfully familiar scent of musky cologne and body wash.

Killian.

As she snuggled into his embrace, thoughts of what transpired hours before flooded her mind. She tried for months to bottle her feelings toward this man, knowing she was still dealing with the shit show from her last relationship and not wanting to ruin her friendship with Killian. However, after hearing what he said to Neal outside her apartment that day a while back, she couldn’t seem to repress the attraction she felt. Every time she was with him, it grew stronger, especially with all of the physical touches he shared in an attempt to calm and reassure her since Neal began haunting her.

Thinking of the kisses they shared last night filled her with warmth and brought a smile to her lips - the same lips that could still taste and feel his own on them. She had never kissed anyone who was so receptive and undemanding, yet all-consuming. His entire being surrounded her to the point that she never wanted that feeling to end. If she could spend the rest of her days kissing Killian Jones, she would die a very happy woman.

As these thoughts flooded her mind, Killian shifted behind her and she could feel his body’s instinctive reaction to holding her close. Then she heard his breathing pattern change as he uttered a low groan. Unwilling to have him wake up embarrassed, Emma swiftly loosened herself from his grip and sat up, then slid to her knees on the floor in front of the sofa.

Scooting closer to look into his handsome face, she caressed his cheek, quietly saying, “Good morning, Killian.” Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to his forehead and watched in fascination as his eyes slowly blinked open, revealing his sapphire gaze. Her thumb brushed across his lips, conjuring a lazy smile from him.

He yawned widely and stretched both arms over his head, then wrapped them around her. “Good morning, Love,” he said, the sound of his voice both satin and gravel. She shivered involuntarily and he noticed. “Are you cold? I should have given you a blanket…”

“No, I’m not,” she assured him. “In fact, I woke up cozier than I can remember being for a very long time.”

“Mmm, so did I,” he said, yawning again before moving into a sitting position. “Would you like some coffee?”

“The elixir of the gods? Yes, please.”

He chuckled as he stood and walked toward the kitchen. Emma suppressed a chuckle of her own as she saw him trying to adjust himself surreptitiously.

She used the bathroom, then joined him in the kitchen. The coffee maker was already brewing and Killian was looking into the refrigerator. She walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

He peered over his shoulder at her, overactive eyebrow arched. “Good morning to you, too! This is certainly a welcome way to treat the man who is going to fix you breakfast, Swan.”

“What are you making?” Emma inquired, feeling lighter than she had for as long as she could remember.

“Pancakes?”

“Do you have any bacon?.”

He reached back in the fridge and straightened up with a package of bacon in his hand. “I’ll accept a kiss as a thank you,” he grinned.

Humming happily, she moved closer, slid her hand up his arm and behind his neck, then leaned in to fulfill his request.

The conversation as he prepared breakfast and while they ate was lighthearted and animated, a far cry from the gloomy, depressing ones they had been having as of late. Emma helped clean up afterwards, then reluctantly told him she needed to go back to her apartment to take a shower and go to the grocery store.

“What time do you work today, Love?” Killian asked as he walked her to her door.

“Four to ten.”

He nodded. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

Turning to face him, she asked, “Are you still planning to, uh…to try to get into my nightmare?”

Unbeknownst to her, that comment had Killian fleetingly thinking about other things of Emma’s he would prefer to get into. “Aye,” he replied after a moment. “I’m hoping it works and this entire thing with Cassidy will be over tonight.”

“I hope so, too,” she exhaled. “God, I just really, really hope so.”

“I know,” he murmured, pulling her into his arms.

“Is Will going to be there tonight, too?”

“No, we’re not intending to have any equipment set up. I’ll bring the flux just in case, but we won’t be recording anything.”

She breathed in his comforting scent for several moments before pulling away to give him a brief kiss. “Okay, I’ll see you tonight.”

“Have a good day, Swan.”

“You, too.”

With a small wave and a smile, she went into her apartment. As soon as she entered, she felt a sharp, cold pain through her chest, as if an icicle had been plunged through it. She gasped and staggered backwards, managing to regain her balance before she fell. Hanging onto the back of the recliner, she struggled to get her racing heart rate under control.

Once she could breathe again, her eyes darted around the living room, trying to figure out what caused the pain. Seeing nothing, but feeling a familiar aura, she whispered, “Neal?” The same sensation tore through her again, leaving little doubt it was his ghost causing it.

Pain gave way to anger. “You possessive asshole! Go to hell! I mean, literally, GO. TO. HELL! Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

Cold speared through her once more, driving her to her knees. She lay down and curled into a fetal position, whimpering, “Leave me alone. Just leave me the fuck alone.”

It took her several minutes to get herself under control enough to stand and make her way out the door on legs so wobbly they barely supported her. Reaching Killian’s door, she weakly pounded her fists against it. When he opened it, she stumbled in, collapsing into his arms.

“Emma? What happened?”

“N-Neal,” she choked out. “He…he attacked m-me.”

“What? How?”

“I…he…” Feeling her knees beginning to buckle, she grasped at his shoulders to remain upright.

Killian scooped her up and carried her to his couch, but instead of laying her down, he sat, cradling her against himself. He didn’t ask any more questions, simply held her until her trembling subsided, murmuring comforting words into her hair.

Finally, she took a calming breath. “When I went into my apartment, this icy, sharp…pain went through me. It took my breath away. There was nothing there, but I had that…that feeling of being watched. When I asked if it was Neal, I felt the pain again. I knew he was there, so I started yelling at him, telling him to leave me alone and to go to hell. It must have pissed him off, because the third time the cold cut through me, it was worse than ever.”

She felt Killian’s arms tighten around her and when he spoke, his voice was low and menacing. “Is he still there?”

“I…I don’t know. I got out of there as soon as I could.”

“Before I go over there to find out, I want to make sure you’re okay.”

Closing her eyes, she tried to relax in his arms. “Just give me a minute. I’ll be fine.”

“Take all the time you need, Love. I have all the time in the world.”

She hated feeling so weak, and hated Neal even more for making her feel that way. She desperately needed Killian’s plan to work, because she truly felt like she couldn’t take much more of this.

After a few minutes, she took a deep breath, straightened her spine and looked Killian in the eye. “I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded vigorously. “Please just find out if that dickhead left my apartment.”

“As you wish,” he said, loosening his arms from around her so she could stand. “Let me go grab my EMF meter and thermometer.” He dashed back the hall to his office and returned momentarily with the necessary equipment in his hands. “Do you want to come with me?”

She considered for only a second. “Yeah. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of terrifying me to the point that I stay here cowering.”

Killian tilted his head and gave her a small, reassuring smile. “That’s my brave lass.” He stepped forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead before turning to lead the way out of his apartment.

She was getting ready to open her door, when he said, “Hang on a minute.” Setting the EMF meter on the floor, he switched it on, then hit the power button on the infrared thermometer as well. They both studied the readouts, determining there was no paranormal activity in the hallway.

“Ready?” he asked, collecting the instruments and standing up.

She nodded and turned the doorknob, but before she could enter, he stepped in front of her. “Let me go first, Swan. He might be ready to ambush you again.”

“Okay,” she gratefully conceded. She didn’t wish that pain on Killian, but she wasn’t sure she would be able to withstand it again.

He cautiously walked through the door, holding the thermometer out in front of him. The hum of the EMF meter was unchanging as he walked around the living room, through the kitchen, and down the hall. Emma stayed close behind him while he checked the bathroom and both bedrooms.

Finally, he let out a heavy breath, declaring, “He appears to be gone, Love. Nothing is registering out of the ordinary.” He switched off both devices and set them down on her bed. “But I can stay here with you if you want.”

Her automatic response would have been to tell him it wasn’t necessary, but she was severely spooked by what happened and didn’t want to be alone if Neal’s spirit returned. “I still need to take a shower, but if you really don’t mind, would you stay until I’m done?”

“Of course. I’ll be out in the living room, if you need me.”

Before he could collect his devices and leave her bedroom, she wrapped her arms around him. Immediately he enveloped her in his warmth and strength, which was exactly what she needed to calm her fearful thoughts. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on breathing evenly, Killian’s masculine scent making her feel safe again.

Given a choice, she would have stayed in his arms for hours. Since that wasn’t possible, she loosened her embrace, running her hands up his solid chest. “Thank you, Killian.” Sighing, she added, “I seem to be saying that a lot these days.”

He smiled at her reassuringly. “I told you I’d be here for you anytime you need me. I’m glad you’ve taken me up on that offer and that I’ve been able to help.”

Pushing up to her tiptoes, she kissed him, then tried to give him a smile. “Make yourself at home while I shower. The TV remote should be on the couch. I don’t have much to offer by way of snacks and drinks, except water. Thus, the reason why I need to go to the grocery store.”

“I’ll be fine, Love. Don’t worry about me.” After kissing her once more, he left the bedroom.

Emma showered, letting the hot water run over her body for longer than usual. When she emerged to a steam-filled room, she dried her hair and body with her largest, fluffy towel, then wrapped it around herself, tucking it in at the top to hold it in place. Unable to see her reflection in the fogged mirror, she used a hand towel to wipe it off…and screamed.

Neal’s apparition was behind her.

For the second time in her life, Emma fainted.

*********

Killian was skimming through a novel he found on Emma’s coffee table when he heard her scream. Jumping to his feet, he tossed the book onto the sofa and ran toward the bathroom.

“Emma!” he shouted, knocking insistently on the door. “Are you okay? Can you let me in?”

When he received no answer, he tried the knob and, finding it unlocked, threw open the door. Emma was lying on the floor unconscious. He knelt down beside her, frantically calling her name.

He was reaching the point of pulling out his phone to call 9-1-1, when she groaned softly, struggling to open her eyes.

“Emma, Love, what happened?” Killian asked urgently.

Her hazy gaze finally fixed on him. “Neal,” she said simply, then started to sob.

“I’ve got you, Love,” he crooned. He moved to sit beside her, then gently lifted her head to cradle it in his lap. He stroked her cheeks until her sobs began to subside, as she gulped in mouthfuls of air.

He swept his eyes down her body to see if she had any injuries, noticing for the first time that she was covered with only a blue striped towel that barely reached the top of her thighs. At the moment, her modesty was the least of his concerns.

Peering down into her face, he felt tears prick his own eyes at seeing the despair on her beautiful features. She was calmer now, but clearly still very upset.

“Are you able to tell me what happened?” he asked again.

She raised a shaky hand to her forehead. With the blow she must have taken when she hit the floor, he was concerned she might have a concussion. He gently caressed her temples, smoothing her damp, tangled hair away from her face.

“I got out of the shower,” she said hoarsely. After clearing her throat, she tried again. “The mirror was all steamed up, so I…I wiped it with a towel. When I looked in it, N-N…” her voice caught and a tear leaked from the corner of her eye.

Killian caught it with his thumb, his heart going out to her. He knew why she was having so much trouble saying the name, and it made his blood boil. How could a man claim to love a woman, then put her through something like this? The answer, of course, was that Neal obviously didn’t love Emma and probably never did. He just wanted her as a possession and even death wasn’t going to stop him.

But Killian would.

Right then and there, he renewed his vow to make Neal Cassidy move on to his eternal punishment. He couldn’t bear to see Emma tormented any longer.

“You saw Neal again?”

She nodded. “He was behind me, staring right at me in the mirror.”

“That’s why you screamed,” Killian stated matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, and that’s the last thing I remember.”

“Did he do or say anything?”

“No, he just scared me and that’s why I fainted. God, what is wrong with me? I’ve never passed out in my entire life, and now I’ve done it twice.”

“Nothing is wrong with you, Sweetheart. You have been exceptionally brave through this entire ordeal. What he’s been doing to you is enough to drive even the most valiant person to their knees.”

She muttered, “Or, in my case, flat on my back.” Pushing herself up to a sitting position, she requested, “Help me up, please.”

“Take it slow, Swan. If you hit your head on the floor when you fainted, it’s possible you could have a concussion.”

“I doubt it. I landed on this rug,” she said, gesturing to the plush blue rug on the floor. “Plus, I’ve had a couple of concussions, so I know how it feels to have one.”

“You’ve had more than one concussion?”

“When I was a bail bondsperson, I was always getting hurt…”

“You worked in bail bonds?” he questioned.

“Yeah, for about three years,” she explained.“I used to set honey traps quite often in the hotel bar where I work now. It got to the point where I knew how to make most of the mixed drinks just by watching the bartenders. After I nearly broke my ankle chasing down a skip one night, the manager of the bar offered me a job - said he was having trouble finding good help. It was an easy choice. With this job, I have regular hours, always know when I’m going to get my next paycheck, and don’t have frequent visits to the emergency room.”

He stood, extending his hand to gingerly pull her to her feet.

She looked down at herself. “I didn’t have time to get dressed. Stupid Neal, coming into the bathroom while I’m taking a shower. Even as a ghost, he’s a pervert.” Stepping in front of the sink, she started to raise her eyes to the mirror, but squeezed them closed instead. “Can you tell if he’s gone?”

“I don’t feel any cold spots. I can check with my equipment if it will set your mind at ease, but then, to set my mind at ease, I think we should go get you checked out.”

“Killian, I’m…”

“Please, Emma? If you do have a concussion, we’ll have to follow the protocol. If you don’t, at least we’ll have peace of mind.”

She sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Good,” he said with a soft, reassuring smile. “Will you be okay if I go back out to the living room to turn on my devices?”

“Yeah, I should be, but just hang on a minute until I get up enough nerve to look in the mirror. If he’s there, at least you’ll be here to catch me this time.”

He moved to stand behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Ready when you are.”

Slowly, she let her eyes drift up until they locked on her reflection. “Wow.”

“Do you see him?” he asked, his grip on her tightening.

“No, but I do see a very handsome and charming man.”

He grinned at her, then sobered before asking, “How do you feel? Do you have a headache?”

“I have the beginning of one, so I agree that I should get checked out.”

He ran his hand over the back of her head, probing with his fingers. “It feels like you might have a bump. You ought to put some ice on it.”

“Yeah, probably.” Plucking at the towel wrapped around her body, she added, “But first, I need to get dressed.”

“I can’t say I dislike what you’re wearing,” Killian smirked.

“It’s a wonder the towel didn’t come off when I fell. Then you would have gotten a free show.”

He wiggled his eyebrows flirtateously. “Under different circumstances, I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Easy, Tiger. One step at a time,” she teased. “I think I’ll be alright getting dressed in my bedroom. If Neal decides to make an appearance there, hopefully I’ll pass out on the bed.”

“I honestly don’t think he will. He used a lot of energy this morning, and if his spirit works the way Liam’s does, he probably won’t return for quite a while.” He was glad to see her shoulders drop in relief. “While you dress, I’ll get you some ice from the kitchen freezer, then use the devices to check your apartment again, just to make sure.”

With a grateful nod, she grabbed her clothes and left the bathroom. He went into the kitchen, pulled ice trays out of the freezer and wrapped several ice cubes in a small kitchen towel. Then he went to the living room to switch on the equipment, and just as he suspected, there was so indication Neal’s apparition was still there.

When Emma came out of her bedroom, dressed in jeans and a band T-shirt, carefully pulling a brush through her snarled hair, Killian told her he didn’t find anything.

“It didn’t feel like he was still here,” she responded, sitting down beside him. “Of course, I couldn’t sense him in the bathroom either, so going by my feelings isn’t very reliable.”

“I think he just showed up for a second to give you a good scare,” he said, handing her the towel containing the ice.

“Well, he succeeded,” she said, holding the ice against the bump he had found behind her left ear. “If his goal is to kill me, all he has to do is play that little trick a few more times. My heart won’t be able to take it…and neither will my head.”

“We’ll get him to move on before he can do that, Emma. I swear to you we will.”

The corner of her mouth lifted in a small smile. Then, letting out a sigh, she said, “I need to eat something before I get checked out. After that, I still have to shop for groceries.”

“Why don’t you come over to my place and I’ll make lunch for us, then I’ll drive you to the hospital. After that, you should probably come home and rest, given what you’ve been through this morning. You can always put in a grocery order to be delivered, instead of going to the store.”

  “I’ve never had groceries delivered. I always thought it was for shut-ins and hermits.”

Killian laughed. “Believe it or not, ordinary, everyday people are allowed to use that service, too. I’ve had them delivered several times when I have nothing in my fridge and I’m too exhausted to go shopping after traveling for a ghost hunting trip.”

“Alright, but you’ll have to show me how to do it.”

“That’s not a problem. Just bring your grocery list and I’ll help you after we get back.”

Once they ate, Killian drove her to the hospital emergency room, where the doctor gave her a test that screened for concussions, ordered a CAT scan and examined her carefully. Nothing indicated that she had a concussion, but he advised them to watch for symptoms that might appear in the following hours and days. After giving them a list of things to watch for, he told her to go to the hospital if any symptoms appeared, advised her to take Tylenol as needed for pain, and sent them on their way.

When they got back to Killian’s apartment, he helped Emma order her groceries and put them away once they arrived. They took a nap together on her couch, and after she convinced him she was fine, he saw her off to work.

Then he went back to his apartment to call Will and Belle, realizing he had yet to tell them about being pulled into Emma’s nightmare and the plan the two of them devised for that evening.

*********

“I’ve never heard of a person being able to enter someone else’s dream,” Belle commented, after hearing Killian’s narrative. “I’ll have to do some research to see if there are any records of that ever happening.”

“D’ya really think you’ll be able to do it again, Kil?” Will asked.

“I don’t know, but I truly hope it works. Neal is ramping up his attempts to affect her physical and mental health.” He went on to relate the events of the morning.

“Oh my goodness!” Belle exclaimed. “Is Emma okay?”

“I took her to the ER and the doctor said to monitor her for the next few days to make sure she doesn’t show any symptoms of a concussion. She had a bit of a headache, but after taking pain meds and resting, she was able to go to work this afternoon.”

“She’s one tough lass,” Will said.

“Yes, she is,” Belle agreed. “You have to admire someone who is being bombarded like that, but keeps going.”

“Do you want me to be there tonight and try to catch it on video?” Will asked.

“I told Emma you wouldn’t be there and we wouldn’t be recording.” Killian hesitated a moment before speaking again. “I want to make something very clear to both of you. I don’t want anything about me being able to get into her dreams to be included in the episode.”

“I have a feeling there’s a specific reason behind that request,” Belle said.

“I don’t want viewers to know about it because they might think I would be able to do that for other people,” Killian explained. “I think the only reason I was able to do it for Emma is that I have a…connection to her.”

“Are ya sayin’ ya had a literal connection to her, boss?” Will asked cheekily.

“Will!” Belle admonished.

“Sorry, Love,” Will apologized, “but that was just too good an opportunity to pass up!”

When Killian didn’t say anything right away, Belle tactfully asked, “What exactly do you mean by having a connection to her, Killian?”

He was quiet a moment longer, mulling over how to explain what happened between him and Emma last night. “I haven’t told you everything, yet,” he finally began. “When I got back to my apartment after Emma’s nightmare, I couldn’t sleep. She texted me and asked to come over. We talked and…”

“And ya finally admitted yer madly in love with her?” Will interjected.

“Not quite, but I did tell her I want to date her.”

“Oh, good!” Belle exclaimed. “How did she react?”

“She, uh, she said she would like to date me, too, but we both decided we need to get this whole thing with Neal over with first.”

“Then let’s hope tonight will be the end of it,” Belle said.

“Aye, that’s what we’re hoping. After seeing what he did to her today, I’m very much afraid he’s going to keep trying to inflict bodily harm on her. Even though you won’t be here tonight, Will, would you mind keeping your phone nearby, just in case I need you for any reason? ”

“You got it, Kil. You know I’m only ten minutes away, so if there’s anything you and Emma need, I’ll be there for both of ya.”

“Thanks, Will. I appreciate it.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Belle asked.

“Pray that our plan works.”

*********

The closer the time came for Emma to get home from work, the more anxious Killian became. He was so antsy, he couldn’t sit still and found himself pacing around his apartment, continually checking his phone. When that didn’t make time pass more quickly, he busied himself trimming his beard, putting on sleepwear and brushing his teeth.

When Emma’s text telling him she was home finally came through, he grabbed the flux and was out of his apartment in a flash. He barely knocked once on her door, when it swung open. “Hey,” she breathed out, as though she had been holding her breath until he got there. Her hair was down and she was in her pajamas, too.

“Evening, Love,” he said, stepping inside and kissing her on the cheek. “How do you feel? How was work?”

“I feel fine. Work was pretty dead when I first got there, but it picked up this evening. I like it when it’s busy. Time seems to drag when it’s not. What have you been doing since I last saw you…” she glanced at the clock on her phone, “seven hours ago?”

He followed her to the sofa, sat down beside her and took her hand. “I called Belle and Will to tell them everything that happened last night and this morning. Then I caught up on answering questions people asked on my YouTube channel. Tried to watch the telly, but I couldn’t concentrate.”

“Thinking about what happened today?”

“Aye, and what might happen tonight.” After a moment’s pause, he asked, “Did you have any problems with a headache at work?”

“I took some medicine when I felt another one coming on, but that was six hours ago and it hasn’t come back.”

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, lost in thought as they tangled and untangled their fingers.

“I think I’m gonna make some hot chocolate,” Emma finally said, standing to her feet. “Do you want some?”

“No, thanks, Love. I find it difficult to sleep if I eat or drink anything besides water before going to bed. I’ll help you make it, though.” He stood and followed her into the kitchen.

She got out the milk and a pan, while Killian followed her instructions to find the cocoa and sugar. “I know my cupboard is a mess. Don’t judge me,” she said, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. “That’s why I only let you put stuff in the fridge when we put away the groceries today.”

“It’s not that bad,” he said, then barely caught a box of Pop-Tarts as they fell off the shelf. They both burst out laughing, which seemed to break the tension.

Once her cocoa was made, he grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and they went back into the living room. As she blew on her hot beverage and sipped it cautiously, he picked up the novel he’d seen earlier. “Are you reading this?”

She swallowed the mouthful she had just taken. “I’ve been trying, but with all this shit going on with Neal, I haven’t gotten very far.”

“Would you like me to read it aloud? It might be relaxing for both of us.”

“That would be really nice.”

“You have a bookmark in here. Do you want me to start from there?”

“Honestly, I can’t even remember what’s happened so far, so you can start at the beginning.”

He nodded and flipped through the pages, clearing his throat before beginning to read. By the time he got to the third chapter, Emma had drained her mug of cocoa and was leaning against his side, battling to stay awake.

Killian turned the page and yawned widely before beginning to read again. Emma sat up and put her hand over the page. “You can stop now, Killian. You sound tired and I can’t keep my eyes open. I think it’s time to go to bed.”

“Aye, Love. I think you’re right. I’ll take care of the dishes while you brush your teeth.” Putting the book down on the table, he picked up her mug and carried it into the kitchen.

When he was finished, he went to Emma’s bedroom, tapping on the open door to announce himself. She was sitting on the edge of the mattress, her arms wrapped around a pillow in her lap. She looked up at him, giving him a weak smile.

He sat down beside her, putting his arm around her. “I know we both want this to be over tonight, but please try not to set your hopes too high. It may take several tries, or it might not happen at all.”

“Yeah, I know,” she sighed, “but after everything that happened this morning, I made up my mind that I’m done being scared. Now, I’m just pissed off, and I’m not gonna let him continue trying to control my life. If you’re able to break me out of that trance in my dream, I’m going to unleash on him.”

He gave her shoulder a squeeze and kissed her temple. “I will be very happy to see that happen, Swan.”

“It would be so nice to wake up in the morning knowing that I’ll never have to deal with that imbecile again.”

They got themselves settled under the covers, lying side by side and staring up at the ceiling, thoughts swirling.

“You never mentioned working in bail bonds before,” Killian said quietly. “What made you decide to do that?”

“I didn’t have many prospects after I graduated from high school. I had just aged out of the foster system and didn’t have any money to go to college or a trade school. I worked at Dunkin’ Donuts and this customer always came in during my shift. One day, she started asking me what I planned to do with my life, that I didn’t seem like the type to be satisfied with menial labor. When I explained my situation, she offered me a job at her bail bonds office. We realized pretty quickly that I had a knack for tracking people down, so she started taking me on stakeouts and showed me all the ropes. After working for her a year, I was going after skips on my own. Cleo was very proud of me.”

“I’m sure she was. Do you keep in touch with her?”

It took several moments for her to answer, and when she did, her voice was emotional. “She, uh…she died. A person she was chasing got aggressive and pushed her through a plate glass window. A shard punctured a main artery and she bled out before help could get there.”

His hand found hers. “I’m so sorry, Emma.”

“Thanks. Her assistant and I kept the office going for a while longer, but when I was offered the position at the hotel, we closed it. Johanna was close to retirement age anyway.”

“Do you think you’ll keep bartending for a long time?”

“I don’t know. It pays the bills and the tips are great, but it’s not what I want to do for the rest of my life.”

He turned his head to look at her. “If you could do anything in the world, what would it be?”

She licked her bottom lip, then pulled it between her teeth in contemplation. “I’d like to be a counselor, I think.”

“What kind of counselor?”

“For older foster kids who are getting ready to age out of the system. When I aged out, it was terrifying. I already had a job, so they just helped me find a place to live, and that was it. I was on my own.”

“You didn’t have any counseling at all?”

“Not at that time, but I have a friend who is a social worker and she said lately they’ve been hiring people to help phase foster kids into society when they age out.”

“I think you would be great at a job like that, Emma.”

She rolled her head and met his eyes. “Yeah, well, I would have to take college courses to do it and those aren’t in my budget right now, so who knows if it will ever happen?”

“There are grants and other types of financial aid available, and you could take courses part time while you continue to work. Perhaps you should look into it. It’s a noble dream and I’m sure with your drive and determination, you will make it happen.”

“Thank you, Killian. Maybe I will check into it,” she said, the last word cut short by a yawn.

“I think that’s our signal to go to sleep.”

“You, um, you have to be touching me to get into my dream, right?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the way it works. Do you…how do you…”

“When we’ve slept on the couch, it’s been nice having you spoon me,” she said, almost shyly.

“I’m fine with that, if you are.”

In response, she turned onto her left side and reached behind her to grasp his arm, pulling it around her waist. “Even if Neal’s stupid ghost doesn’t show up tonight, at least I’ll be able to sleep, knowing you’re here with me.”

“As long as you need me, I’ll always be by your side, Emma.”

“Mmm, good to know,” she murmured, burrowing backwards to get closer to him. “Goodnight, Killian.”

“Night, Love.”

*********

“No!”

Killian was jolted awake when he heard Emma’s cry. They were in nearly the same position in which they had fallen asleep. He tightened his grip around her waist, feeling his nerves beginning to amp up. Her body was making little jerking movements and she was breathing in short gasps, so he knew she was beginning to dream.

He only had to wait a few minutes until he felt the same slight shock he had the night before. Then he was in the same dream world and Emma was in front of him, facing the other direction. He heard the chanting from Neal and was sure these were the whispers Emma said she kept hearing in her nightmares.

Without hesitation, Killian rushed around to face her and could see she was already in a trance. He took her by the shoulders and began to shake her. “Emma! Wake up!”, he shouted, but his actions had no effect on her whatsoever.

He looked behind himself to see Neal moving rapidly in their direction, screaming, “She’s MINE! She will never be yours! I came so close to killing her! Next time, I will succeed!”

The way Neal was swooping in, Killian knew he was coming for him and, even though it was a dream, he didn’t want to take the chance of being torn away from Emma. His mind raced desperately, trying to figure out a way to break through to her. Then Liam’s words came to him.

  Perhaps you could try a true love’s kiss.

Turning back to Emma, he pulled her closer and leaned in to kiss her. The moment their lips touched, a burst of what he could only call magic passed over them. Emma’s eyes popped open as she gasped, “Killian!” Then she looked over his shoulder and a gamut of emotions played over her face - surprise, fear and finally, anger.

Killian turned to see Neal’s spirit with a look of unadulterated fury on his face. Killian was between Emma and Neal, but she stepped around him and got in Neal’s face, her arms waving wildly to emphasize her words.

“You fucking bastard! I am not yours! I do not want to die and spend eternity with you! That would be literal hell for me! Leave me the fuck alone!”

Neal began rapidly circling them, apparently attempting to create a vortex to pull her toward him. She thrust her fist into the air, her hair whipping around her face, which wore a look of furious determination. “GO. TO. HELL!” she screamed.

Suddenly, they heard a deafening roar that was so loud, Killian clamped both hands over his ears. Squinting in the direction of the sound, he saw a chasm starting to open, its yawning opening belching out black, sulphurous smoke.

From the midst of the smoke, a gigantic beast with huge, curved horns and fire shooting out of its eye sockets emerged. Its mouth was wide open as it emitted another eardrum piercing roar. Other screeching figures, with flaming tongues, swirled around the beast’s massive legs.

Killian stood rooted to the spot, but he felt no fear. He knew these monsters weren’t a threat to himself or Emma. They were here for one reason - to drag Neal to his eternal punishment.

Neal must have realized it, too, because he stopped spinning around them and tried to flee in the opposite direction from the chasm. It was no use, though. The screeching figures descended on him, swiping at him with their razor sharp claws, as the beast stomped closer.

Emma and Killian wrapped their arms around each other, watching the scene in fascinated horror. He heard her attempting to say something to him. “What?” he shouted.

She moved closer and yelled into his ear, “Is that a Hell beast?”

He nodded furiously. “I think so.”

Neal’s screams were so loud, they could hear them over the continuous roaring. “EMMA! HELP ME! DON’T LET THEM TAKE ME! EMMA, NO!”

The beast grabbed his shoulders with its sharp talons. Neal clawed frantically at the air, his face a mask of complete terror. The screeching figures began wrapping around his legs, squeezing tightly and viciously biting at them.

Neal twisted around until he was facing the monster, and obviously immediately regretted that action. The beast’s mouth opened even wider, and for a split second, Killian thought it was going to bite Neal’s head off. Instead, it spat noxious fumes into his face, causing him to retch violently.

His body continued convulsing as the hell beast threw him down and turned to head back toward the chasm. The other beings unwrapped themselves to follow their master. Emma turned to look at Killian, a look of disbelief on her face. “Aren’t they taking him?” she asked.

He was opening his mouth to answer, when suddenly Neal’s piercing scream once again rang out. Emma and Killian turned to see fiery, barbed whips flying out of the black hole, wrapping around Neal’s body and extremities. He was dragged backwards, his hands scrabbling futilely at the ground, his face disfigured with panic and pain.

“EMS! EMMA, PLEASE! NOOOOO! HELP ME, EM…”

Emma buried her face in Killian’s chest as Neal’s words were cut off, having been pulled into the gaping, hellish abyss. The roaring sound intensified as if the demons themselves were screeching out their glee over claiming another soul. Then, with a whoosh, the chasm slammed shut and there was silence.

Emma sat up in bed with a gasp, Killian right beside her. She turned to him with eyes the size of saucers. “Oh my gosh! Was that real?! Were you there? Did you see…”

“Aye, Love,” Killian said, trying to sound calmer than he felt. His heart was racing so fast, he could barely get the words out.

“Do…do you think it’s over? Is he gone for good?”

“I would bet money that he met his eternal demise and will no longer be haunting you.”

“Even though it happened in a dream?”

Killian mulled it over. “I think…” he began, considering how to explain it. “Your nightmares were Neal’s way of manipulating you. I don’t think you were dreaming the conventional way. My theory is that he was creating the nightmares and pulling you into them. That’s how he could put you in a trance and make you feel like you were tied and gagged.”

She was looking at him quizzically, clearly trying to comprehend what he was saying.

He took her hands and continued. “Since it wasn’t a conventional dream, but one of his making, I’m pretty sure that what took place actually did happen. I’ll continue to monitor your apartment for a few days, but I honestly think he’ll never bother you again.”

Emma stared at him for several long beats, then collapsed against him, her body shaking with sobs. He held her, stroking her hair and whispering reassurances, wondering if her outpouring of emotion was out of relief or a reaction to the horrors she just witnessed.

Finally, her weeping ceased, her body slowly relaxing against him. He thought perhaps she had fallen asleep, when he heard her whisper something. Bending his head to hear her better, he asked, “What did you say, Love?”

“How did you do it? How did you get to me and break me out of the trance?”

His hand automatically reached up to scratch nervously behind his ear. “I was able to get into your dream immediately and I saw you standing there, just like last time. Neal was coming and I knew he was going to try to separate us.”

He paused, and when he didn’t continue, she leaned back to look up into his face. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t get you to wake up. Then I…I thought of something Liam suggested.”

“What was it?”

“I told him about being in your dream, seeing you catatonic and not being able to break you out of it. He said, uh…he said I should try…true love’s kiss.”

He studied her reaction. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. “You…you kissed me?”

More nervous scratching. “Aye.”

“And it worked?”

He dipped his head in a nod. “Aye.”

“You woke me up with a true love’s kiss? But that…that means you…” Her words trailed off and she stared at him, her breathing quick and shallow.

“That means…I love you,” he said quietly.

“But doesn’t it…” she began, then changed directions. “In fairy tales, for a true love’s kiss to work, both people have to love the other person, don’t they?”

He looked up through his lashes at her. “Aye,” he stated simply.

Her head bent forward, but he could still see her eyes darting around, as if to seek an answer amongst the bed sheets. “I…I’ve never had any luck with love. Every time I was close to falling for a guy, something happened. Neal was the only one I ever…”

It was as if she was talking to herself, reciting a monologue to try to make sense of her feelings. Killian remained quiet, allowing her to work through it without interruption.

She stopped talking and her body became completely still. Minutes stretched on, and he was beginning to wonder if he had declared too much, too soon.

Suddenly, her head whipped up and she looked at him, dumbfounded. “With you, it’s different. I feel different. I trust you. I feel safe and protected when I’m with you. I can talk to you about anything and you listen. I look forward to seeing you every day, and these last few weeks, all I want is to be with you. I know you’ll take care of me and I want to take care of you. Is that…is that what love is?”

He reached up, tenderly running his fingers along her cheek. “Aye, Love. I think that’s exactly what it is.”

“That’s why it worked, then. Because I love you, Killian.”

A slow smile spread across his face before he dipped his head and captured her lips, sealing their declarations with another true love’s kiss.

*********

Thank you all for your response to this story! I hope it's been the perfect mix of scary and sweet.

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4

@hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper

@lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic

@eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426 @julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling

@andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @zaharadessert @lyssapup27

@undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat

@teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90

@apiratewhopines @hollyethecurious @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate

@caught-in-the-filter @stahlop @veryverynotgoodwrites @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite

@whimsicallyenchantedrose @earanemith @superchocovian @idristardis @captainswan-kellie

@beckettj @cssns

[princess-and-the-swan]

CS Fic Recs: Bridgerton-Inspired AU

While I anxiously await the arrival of the second half of Bridgerton S3, I'm absolutely DEVOURING these 3 Bridgerton-inspired CS fics I've found:

A Scoundrel... Or a Gentleman? by @kmomof4

Killian Jones has been in love with Emma Nolan since the day he met her - the day before she married his brother Earl Liam Jones. That was six years ago, and Liam has been gone now for four years. Emma and Killian have both arrived in London for the season - her to seek a husband so she can hopefully bear children, him to finally take up his duties as the earl, including finding a wife. Will they succeed in their respective desires? Complete. Inspired by Francesca Bridgerton's story, this is the fic that sent me into my Bridgerton-fic frenzy. While there is a little bit of Liamma in the beginning, this is very much a Captain Swan fic and it's so much fun to follow along with the evolving relationship dynamic between the two.

A Mistress to No One by @kmomof4

Bastard Emma Swan enjoys one night of pure magic and romance in the midst of a life of drudgery and abuse- attending a masquerade ball and meeting aristocrat Killian Jones. Two years later, the same man she met on the best night of her life reappears, saving her from a dire fate in the process. Now, she must keep herself from falling in love with a man she can never have. But when that proves impossible, is there any hope for a happy ending between two people from such vastly different worlds? Complete. I will admit, that I have never read Benedict Bridgerton's story, so I had no idea what to expect. This story reminds me of Cinderella but if Cinderella and her prince had an actual connection beyond a single dance.

The Duke and His Swan by @hollyethecurious

Dearest Reader, the ton is abuzz with speculation that the new Duke of Ironhook will be remaining in town for the duration of the Season. Second born of the illustrious Jones family, Killian Jones has quite the legacy to live up to now he has inherited the dukedom from his late elder brother. Also entering Society for her first season is Miss Emma Swan, ward to the Viscount Nolan’s family. Gifted with a respectable dowry, Miss Swan’s financial worth and uncommon good looks will surely make up for her rumored prickly disposition in the eye of more than one fortune seeking suitor. Stay tuned, Dear Reader, for this author has it on good authority His Grace and Miss Swan shall cause quite a sensation, perhaps even resulting in… scandal! Complete. If you haven't already read this fic, I HIGHLY recommend it. Loosely inspired by Daphne Bridgerton's story, this is very much a friends to lovers trope that so many of us adore. After I read this fic, I binged several of this author's other works as well because her writing is absolutely addictive :)))

These fics are the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires and I really hope more Bridgerton-inspired fics will begin to pop up--especially a Colin Bridgerton-esque fic to commemorate the Polin season! If you've found any others that you enjoyed, please please please let me know! Happy reading!!

[snowbellewells]

HAPPY (One Day Late) BIRTHDAY KRYSTAL!!!

(I really wanted to get this posted on @kmomof4's actual birthday - I've only been trying to get this going since I promised it LAST YEAR! But you have been very patient, Krystal, and here at last is the story I'm working on for your birthday gift. Seeing as you wrote a beautiful CS AU of the Bridgerton book which is a bit of a Cinderella story, and since I've been mulling a bit of a Killian-as-the-Cinderella-character fic for some time, I've mashed that idea together with several of your mentioned fave tropes and characters/relationships from OuaT. I'm not going to list it all here. Hopefully, it will lead to more pleasantly melty surprises as we go. ;p I'll try not to keep you waiting too long between updates - and I have no idea how many chapters there will end up being. I first thought a really long one shot, then a two shot, but Killian and his fairy godmother (and Liam!) were excessively chatty, and it just kept getting longer and longer! I realize Emma isn't in it much yet, but we'll start with her next time.)

I hope you enjoy, Krystal!! I'm so glad we are friends!!!

Also available on AO3 if that is your preference...

"Dreams That You Wish Will Come True"

by: @snowbellewells

Chapter One

“But Liam,” a breathless young Killian Jones argued stubbornly, “why are you dragging me to the galley? You know all I have to get done before the Captain returns…” Swiping the shaggy dark hair back from where it hung in his eyes, long past needing a trim, the young man cringed at the sound of his own wheedling tone. Gritting his teeth and flexing his hands in frustration, Killian chided himself for questioning his elder brother’s direction and sounding like the bloody nuisance he knew he must be to Liam - strong and wise and nearly grown now. At barely seventeen, and with little experience beyond that of an indentured deckhand on a ramshackle pirate ship, what right or knowledge did he have to be so stubborn, especially not with Liam, who had only ever looked out for his best interests?

Sure enough, exasperated, Liam shook his head before responding with a huff, “Can you not just do what I say, Little Brother? For once? You’ll see in a moment.”

By this time, they had traversed the length of the ship below deck, and they stood outside the galley. They paused briefly, with Killian biting down on his tongue to prevent asking again if Liam was sure about what they were doing. To his wide-eyed astonishment, Liam raised a hand to rap his knuckles in a specific rhythm on the door that separated Cook’s domain from the dimly-lit hall. His brother gave him a bit of a wink, more mischief in it than his serious elder sibling, burdened with far too much responsibility for his years, usually showed. Curious now, Killian waited wordlessly with him until footsteps could be heard drawing nearer on the other side.

When the door was opened to them, Killian was perplexed over again as he and Liam were beckoned inward and the door closed behind them once more. Within the room, illuminated softly by a hanging lantern and a few candles scattered throughout, he saw that, not only Cook, but several of the crewmen of the Merry Rogue, had gathered in the small, already overwarm, and easily crowded room in which they took their meals. Killian was usually on his feet serving. Silver would allow nothing less from his “kitchen maid” as he often tauntingly dubbed Killian, hoping to stoke the fiery temper the young lad tried to check so he could then see him lashed for insubordination. It was only well after the others had cleared off that he and Cook could sit and take their own repast. However, those gathered now had secretive smiles and anxiously pleased looks on their faces. Killian noted easily that none of the more hateful crew members were present; neither those who ordered him about loftily, mocking him and sending him scurrying back and forth for items they didn’t really need throughout the meal, nor the cruel bosun who would stick a foot out to trip him, then cuff him for spilling and wasting food. Instead, gathered before him were the softer hearted men - perhaps misfits on the ship themselves at some earlier time before he and Liam were indentured to the vessel - who had often shown him bits of kindness and understanding when they could manage.

In spite of his earlier misgivings, he was intrigued and couldn’t help asking Cook this time, though Liam was still nearby. “What is going on here?”

The older man merely smiled kindly, motioning Killian further into the room, until he stood near its center. “You’ll soon see, lad,” Cook coaxed gently, turning to riffle through a burlap sack laid out on the galley table before offering his prize to Killian. “We’ve something to give you for the evening’s festivities.”

“Wh- what are you on about?” Killian’s brow puckered in confusion as he looked at what appeared to be a pile of folded cloth in his older friend’s hands, and at the eagerly expectant faces gathered around to watch. “Festivities? Me? I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about…”

He was shaking his head as words failed him, not sure how to deal with the puzzle before him, when he sensed Liam at his back, solid and strong. His elder brother placed a comforting hand on Killian’s shoulder and leaned in to murmur quietly in his ear. “Come now, Killy, you have to have seen the banners posted all over port for the gala at the castle, in honor of the Princess Emma’s birthday. It’s tonight.”

Killian sputtered indignantly as Liam nudged him in the side and nodded toward the stack of fine material Cook was still holding out to him. “Aye, of course I have, but - but what does that have to do with me?”

Liam responded with an even more brilliant smile, bowling Killian over with his quip, “Simple, Little Brother! If you would get a move on, we mean for you to attend that ball!”

Those words did not truly make the situation much clearer to Killian’s mind, but at Liam’s urging - knowing his sibling would never encourage something that would do him harm - he took the bundle from Cook and moved forward to lay the offering on the long, wooden table for a better view. He could see now that it was a fine coat, made of soft, midnight blue, expertly tailored and brand new, certainly the finest piece of clothing he’d ever held in his own two hands. There was also a dress shirt, a mere shade lighter, clearly meant to be worn beneath the jacket, and breeches of a soft, dove gray - all quite the ensemble and much finer than any mere deckhand or cabin boy would ever have use for. Despite that, all three items seemed to be in his particular size, and the pleased smiles on the small circle of weathered faces around him clearly meant for him to have the articles.

“This is very kind,” Killian began, trying a different tack since protesting that they must be mistaken had done no good. “These clothes are the most handsome I’ve seen, but surely no sailor, and one barely part of the crew at that, would be invited to such an event. Mayhap someone else could…”

“Perhaps I can explain,” an airy, musical voice spoke up, floating on the air like a tinkling of chimes as sparkles of light and swirls of colorful breeze seemed to catch the eyes of all those gathered in the small ship’s kitchen. Gliding gently toward him from above, a small creature - a miniature woman, a fairy!, he realized -  came to to hover before him, a sweetly bemused smile on her delicate face.

More questions flooded Killian’s brain than had already lingered; however, he was now too overwhelmed and in awe to speak any of them aloud. A fairy? Here? Where pirates cooked and swabbed the deck and ate their grub? That he would ever see such a mystical being had never entered his mind, much less the idea that he would encounter one aboard a ship which had seen much more glorious days many years ago. He was sailor enough - a superstitious lot, one and all - to believe that magic existed, fairies among the more familiar imagery of sirens and selkies, but a vague belief in theory was much different from seeing one shimmering before his own eyes, gazing on him with a benevolent smile upon her face.

Seeing that the beguiling young man before her was currently incapable of answering, the silvery-winged fairy’s laughter tinkled on the air like the pleasant ringing of tiny bells, the riotous pile of ringleted brown curls interespersed with morning glory blossoms shook with her gentle mirth before she spoke again, hastening to explain and hopefully to dispel the poor youth’s doubt and confusion. “You are Killian Jones, yes?” she queried, already certain, but awaiting his confirmation nonetheless.

Killian did manage an affirmative nod, and his lips formed a soft “aye”, though it sounded as barely more than a whisper.

“Well then, Killian Jones, it is a pleasure to meet you at long last. I have watched you from afar all your life, after all. I am Nova, your fairy godmother.”

The handsome young man’s bright blue eyes popped wide open at her pronouncement, stunning in their crystal clarity and nearly making Nova’s sweet soul cry at the hope laid bare in his expression, hope which he tried equally to rein in, clearly having already learned such lovely things were not meant for him and waiting to hear the catch. She was the most tender-hearted of all her sisters, and it had been painful for her to look on and do nothing as this mischievous, brilliant little boy had been forced into manhood far too soon. His mother’s death, his father’s abandonment, the privation and shame of unwilling servitude, the cruelty of mistreatment, and the harsh life at sea had all changed the bonny child who had boarded this ship with his father and brother years ago into the solemn young man before her, who had never truly been allowed to leave. She had chafed over and over again at being held back and kept from doing something to help her appointed charge - anything to better his lot, even slightly. Their fairy laws were fickle, and yet exacting; even as Nova honored and revered their ways and her elders, she could not claim to understand why it had taken so long to finally be deemed “the right time”.

She could tell by the furrow of his dark brow that young Killian Jones must be pondering at least some of those same questions. Where had she been these last years of backbreaking toil, pilfered rations, and vicious taunts about a father so desperate to be rid of him he had sold him away? Where had she been the first time the lash had scored his back and left bloodied stripes in its wake? She had been right there beside him, unseen, constrained from taking any action, but he had no way of knowing that.

“I - I have a fairy godmother?” he finally sputtered in stark disbelief.

Nova nodded kindly, having the good grace to look more than a little abashed. “Of course you do! Everyone does. It breaks my heart to think you’ve felt so forgotten.” She squared her shoulders and blinked rapidly, trying not to become emotional as she attempted to explain. “Unfortunately, we fairies follow a very strict code. We are forbidden to make ourselves known before the appointed time. And I kept being told it was not yet that moment…”

Killian’s mind whirled with all the new information - and with a bit of indignance at the idea that all he and Liam had been through since being abandoned and left in Silver’s dubious oversight had not been considered serious enough to merit aid. His mouth opened, and even he himself was not sure if it was a question or a retort on the tip of his tongue - but his immediate awe was finally overcome - when his diminutive magical guest clearly sensed she needed to finish her explanation, and fast. 

“My superior, the Blue Fairy, or Blue as she’s often called, is stricter about maintaining our distance and secrecy than most.” Nova shrugged her shoulders in obvious contrition as she waved her hands and a wand appeared within her grasp. “I’ve never really understood why, but that’s neither here nor there. It is finally time to grant your heart’s wish… to do something to make you life better, just as I’ve been waiting to do!”

Killian’s mouth snapped shut again at that, puzzled by her words and disarmed at the excitement bursting from her tiny frame. He had never met this Nova before, but he could hardly doubt her eager sincerity. “My wish?” he repeated uncertainly, feeling that he was trailing considerably further behind in the conversation that he ought to be. “I can’t honestly remember even making one.”

Even as he spoke those words, however, Killian knew in his heart they were not entirely true. It might not have been the focused drive of a wish upon a star, or anything that direct, but he had often thought on where he would go if he were free, what he and Liam could do if they were their own men, left to their own devices, able to seek an adventure of their choosing, honor and glory for the name of Jones which their father had sullied. Had those hopes and dreams been heard all this time, when he had felt so forgotten and ignored? It must be true, though it was hard to reconcile with his previous experiences.

Almost as if she could read his thoughts broadcast across his face, Nova nodded enthusiastically, affirming his realization. “That’s right,” she pronounced clearly, gesturing to the clothing his brother and shipmates had procured for him. The fairy -his fairy godmother! - then effortlessly waved her wand once more, causing one of the flyers ever-present about this kingdom to appear before him from out of thin air. “This ball is only the beginning for you. You have big dreams, Killian Jones, and a calling to fulfill, but you are also the only one who can see them come true. I may be giving you a bit of a boost, but you are more than enough for the task. Your heart is strong, and I have no doubt it will see you through. You only need a little belief.”

“And what exactly does a fancy royal ball have to do with anything?” he questioned. His shock was wearing off as he grew more comfortable speaking to Nova, but he wasn’t seeing why he would be needed at a princess’ birthday celebration. All the same, he scooped all the formal wear up in his arms to go and change - whether it made sense to him or not.

Nova’s entire small fae being practically twinkled at him with the playful wink she gave before answering, “Not all things are as simple as they might first appear, young sir.” With that, she lightly tapped the end of her wand on the top of his head, causing a pleasantly warm tingling to spread through Killian’s body, all the way out to his fingers and toes.

A mere moment later, amid astonished exclamations from Liam, Cook, and the others, he realized that his arms were empty; the new clothes he had been holding already magicked onto his lanky frame, along with shining new shoes upon his feet and a smart queue tied off with ribbon matching his fine shirt and a fresh, neat trim to his dark hair too. It was indeed enough to make him feel a whole new person - one who might not stand out horribly, even at the palace of Misthaven.

“There now,” Nova approved with gentle tone, a fond smile gracing her lips as she took in the full effect upon her charge. “You look quite the young gentleman.”

“Aye, you do at that!” Cook echoed with his rough but friendly voice as he clapped Killian on the shoulder heartily. “Even in our heyday, Cap’n Silver himself rarely looked so sharp!”

“I’d not let him hear you say so,” the old shipwright Ned called over jovially.

“Too right!” Cook chuckled.

The other crew members present laughed as well and began to talk amongst themselves, drifting away now that the excitement was past. Soon, only Liam stood beside him, the two brothers both looking to their benefactress where she hovered before them. Even Cook headed off for his cabin, saying his old bones were ready for his bunk, even if the night was still young.

“You look just like a fine young lieutenant,” Liam affirmed, eyes wide as he took in his younger sibling and needlessly brushed some nonexistent speck from the shoulder of Killian’s jacket. Then, bracing both of his larger hands on Killian’s upper arms, he held him out to gaze into his face seriously before offering in a choked voice, “This sort of adventure should have always been your lot.” Liam pulled Killian in abruptly and hugged him tight for several seconds, startling Killian before he held onto his brother with equal fervency.

“Thank you,” Killian finally managed when Liam released him. “I don’t know how you managed all this,” he gestured around the room, “but I am sure it began with you.”

Liam flushed slightly, looking down with a sheepish smile. “My idea, aye, but I had lots of help. And it wouldn’t have turned out nearly so well if your honest-to-goodness fairy godmother hadn’t turned up!”

Nova’s ringing laughter once again tickled their ears, her eyes crinkling up prettily as well with her good humor. “It really was my pleasure,” she rejoined. But then she added more seriously, “This is your night, Killian. There is much for you to see and to do, and I bid you enjoy every moment to its fullest. I’ve readied a carriage which will take you to the palace, and Liam can ride along with you as far as the gates. Just remember - the ride and the clothes, the gifts you’ve been granted, will vanish at midnight. It’s simply how the magic works. Make sure you are headed back by then.”

Killian nodded, promising he would do as she said; it was far longer than he could imagine needing, if the truth were told. He wasn’t at all sure what he would do there in any case. And though he wished Liam could venture inside with him, he would gladly take the ride to gather more advice and draw strength from his sibling’s company.

After that, it seemed very little time passed before - head still spinning at the sheer impossibility of it all - Killian was disembarking from a fine horsedrawn carriage at the palace gates. Looking back to grin crookedly at Liam, his brother urged once more “Have fun!” and reassured him that all would be well. Turning, Killian bravely put first one foot, and then the other, forward, until he stepped into the castle of Misthaven, a guest at a royal ball. 

He slipped his hand into his pocket to run his fingers over the ring on an old chain which had once belonged to their mother (Liam had bid him carry it this once for luck) and pulled in a deep, steadying breath as he gained his bearings. He was already dazzled beyond belief, but determined to make a good showing and bring “honor to the Jones brothers” as he murmured under his breath. Whatever he was meant to find, he would do his best.

At that, he raised his eyes, catching sight of the magnificent winding staircase trailing down from the upper floors into the main hall. Halfway down the steps, paused with one foot poised in descent, was a stunningly beautiful, golden-haired vision in sky blue and silver. Killian could scarcely take in the tiara resting upon her head or the clear resemblance she bore to her likeness on all the recent announcements for her birthday. Laying eyes on her in life had struck him motionless, frozen in place. ���Bloody hell,’  his mind fumbled inelegantly, ‘It’s Princess Emma herself.’

So completely entranced was he, in fact, that Killian failed to realize the princess was just as stunned - equally taken in and unable to move. Their eyes met and held across the distance between them, and one more shining burst of magic was ignited then and there.

Tagging a few others who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi

@anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @xarandomdreamx @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight

@stahlop @motherkatereloyshipper @eastwesthomeisbest @bluewildcatfanatic @jonesfandomfanatic

@belovedcreation @goforlaunchcee @laianely @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl

@myfearless-love @undercaffinatednightmare @caught-in-the-filter @winterbaby89 @darkcolinodonorgasm

@gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @linda8084 @lfh1226-linda @resident-of-storybrooke

@teamhook @revanmeetra87 @jennjenn615 @grimmswan @ultraluckycatnd

[the-darkdragonfly]

NEW CHAPTER! A Trick of the Light

Chapter Twelve: Back Again

I know I know! But we're here now...

♥️♥️♥️♥️

The baby bag, which had begun to feel like another family member to Emma and himself ever since they had received it as a gift from Ruby, always filled to the brim with toddler approved snacks- I think those are meant to be given to Hope, Swan- which Emma had delighted in stealing- I’ve told you, toddler snacks and Emma snacks are the same thing, babe- lay toppled at Killian’s feet, having tumbled down from where he had tossed it haphazardly before they set sail from the small harbour only moments before, and when he knelt to retrieve it, Hope teary faced and reaching for him, something crinkled from the one of the outermost pockets. 

At the familiar noise, Emma sat up from her place against the wall, Hope having crawled into her lap the moment she had sunk to the floor, eyes suddenly clear as she whispered exaggeratedly slowly at him- is that a fruit snack?- as if their children wouldn't be interested in what she was saying when the word ‘snack’ was involved if she said it slowly enough. 

Hope cried again, her face scrunched in annoyance hands grabbing towards him- come here, little lovie, that was scary, I know, I’m sorry- whispering a broken plea for snacks against his neck, her curls tickling the skin on his throat, her speech less pronounced, softened as it had been when she was so much younger. 

Emma shuffled Liam into her vacated lap, plucking the boy gently from where he’d been laying against her thigh, happily chewing on the corner of the rug- oh, baby, no, that’s yucky- and reached into the bag, eyes wide with excitement. 

A veil of memory swam before Killian’s eyes, cool and refreshing, soft around the edges as the tension which had carried them away from the curse of Camelot cleared like morning fog from a lake, a memory of Emma several months earlier, pregnant in their Storybrooke kitchen, a scowl on her lovely face. 

“Can you put this somewhere?” Emma had huffed in annoyance, handing him the bag of generic brand sour soothers- they’re better than the big famous ones, babe- her third that week if he’d been keeping track properly, which, he knew, he probably hadn’t been. 

“Where shall I put them, then, love?” 

“Somewhere I can’t get them, I’m obsessed. It has to stop.” 

He privately agreed, but two pregnancies had taught him that honesty wasn’t always the best course of action, and he took the package from her outstretched hand- you’re a pirate, you have to be good at hiding treasure- raising an eyebrow. 

“I might not have to hide them, Swan…” 

“What do you-” she didn’t get to finish the remainder of her question as his smile widened in mischief and he dropped the package at her feet, her belly ensuring the task of retrieving the treats nearly impossible- if you can get them, then you’ve earned them, love. 

“Wow.” 

♥️♥️♥️♥️

Read the rest here.

Read my other stuff here.

♥️♥️♥️♥️

@elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @sailtoafarawayland @teamhook @wefoundloveunderthelight @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @veryverynotgood @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @jrob64 @kmomof4 @artistic-writer @gingerpolyglot @xarandomdreamx @justanother-unluckysoul @zaharadessert @xsjax @karlyfr13s @tiganasummertree @wyntereyez @klynn-stormz @onceratheart18 @rkrbirdgirl @ouatdaily @blowmiakisscolin @courtorderedcake @winterbaby89 @pirateprincessofpizza @superchocovian @deckerstarblanche @jlsadphoenix @alexa-fangirl-forever @stahlop @undercaffinatednightmare @lostintheskyfaraway @anmylica @motherkatereloyshipper @last-tsarina @lfh1226-linda @hookedmom @yikes-00 @midnightsuki @paradiselady19 @jonesfandomfanatic

[pirateswhore]

top 5 cs blogs?

oh, this is a cruel question. 😔

I'm missing many, im sure, and I'm going off of what shows up in my feed the most often, in no order.

@killianjonesz Sharon and her gifs are... a gift to this world and fandom. I just adore them SO much, I kick my feet giggling whenever I look at them. 10/10 chefs kiss, mwah

@cptainjones 's analysis/commentary n general meta is just. mind blowing. istg mari you've got such a way with words.

@piraterefrigerator you were my first friend in the fandom so like. hi ily Ray. also your blog gives me "haha funny" with some takes and I love the unhinged headcanons we share with each other <3

@piinfeathers your art > God. so good istg. some of your pieces live rent free in my head and I'll look at them sometimes and giggle kicking my feet up.

@laianely relatively new and we don't interact much BUT I absolutely adore your edits hello. heartbreaking (I also think I've seen some on TT/reposted to Pinterest so I'm glad I get to follow the OG creator of them :))

and some generally cool people I like seeing on my dash and are lovely people: @caliburn-the-sword @vasfasan @booksteaandtoomuchtv @poptart-cat-78 @kmomof4 @thecoolestfreakyouknow @exhaustedpirate

[exhaustedpirate]

parent for hire

finally, the next instalment of this adventure! only another one to go (and an epilogue)! once more, major thanks to @kmomof4 for being the best beta!

Chapter Six - Camelot

word count: 9,372 words 

rating: Teen and Up

tag list: @cocohook38 ; @bluewildcatfanatic ; @piraterefrigerator ; @sotangledupinit ; @booksteaandtoomuchtv ; @teamhook

read on AO3 | prologue | one | two | three | four | five (1) | five (2) | five (3)

They were summoned to the throne room the next morning. There had been new clothes laid out in their room and a bath prepared. Killian chose to explain it with magic and not think about the fact that there had possibly been someone in the room without him noticing.

Their bags had been delivered to their room the night prior and he was happy to note that their things were all present and accounted for. There wasn’t much he needed from it except for the drawing of his brother and his compass - a gift from Nemo. And his sword, of course.

Emma and her parents were already waiting for them in the throne room. Emma looked as beautiful as she had before. Her hair had been pulled away from her face, a blue leather vest and a white shirt she wore fit her like a glove, and the dark trousers complemented her form. 

The three seemed deep in conversation, and the royals’ frowns told him that they weren’t happy with the course of it. He wasn’t a betting man anymore but he would wager he knew the subject.

“Even before we appeared on the bank of Lake Nostos, we promised we wouldn’t leave you again. We won’t go back on it now,” Snow tearfully explained.

“You can’t go. You said last night that you were ready to be the people’s ruler again. You have to stay here.” Emma’s tone had a hint of panic, of fear. “This is my mission, I need to go.”

“We can’t change your mind?” David almost begged. “We only just got you back…”

Emma took a deep breath. “I need to do this.”

The determination in her eyes blazed like fire and Killian watched as Snow looked at David,  and gripped his hand in a tight grip, an entire conversation being held within their gazes. They turned watering eyes and sad smiles on their daughter, and Killian thought his heart would break.

“We know,” Snow said, her hand on Emma’s cheek. “You’re so grown, a hero in your own right.”

“I-I’m not-” Emma stuttered, her eyes shining in the morning light.

“You are,” David interrupted, pulling Emma and Snow to him for a tight hug.

Killian wondered how many years Emma had longed to be held this way, to be loved this way, and his heart went out to her while his mind traveled to the only parent he still had.

“Y-You don’t have to go, Emma.” Henry’s quiet voice next to him broke him away from his thoughts and the three-person hug in front of them as they finally noticed their audience. “You can stay. You should stay.”

His shaking voice had Killian’s hand tighten on his shoulder.

“Henry,” Emma kneeled in front of the boy, her hands cupping his cheeks. “I want to go with you. I want to make sure you’ll be safe.”

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, Henry.” Snow’s voice shook just as much as the boy’s. “This family will always find each other.”

Snow stood close by, her hand back in her husband’s and he nodded. “There have been many times when Snow and I were separated from each other but we still held on to hope.”

“We were separated from our daughter all those years ago, but we had hope that we’d see her again,” Snow added with a watery smile. 

“And look where we are now,” David finished.

“Never lose hope, Henry. Even the possibility of a happy ending is a very powerful thing.”

Henry nodded, tears running down his cheeks but a hopeful smile on his lips. He threw himself at Emma, burying his face on her neck as they both held on tight to each other. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Hope. 

Maybe they were on to something.

After all, it was abundantly clear to him how much his life had changed ever since he started having hope.

David cleared his throat and Killian took the distraction to wipe away the tears that had escaped down his cheeks. “Since you’re off on an adventure, I wanted to give you guys something.” He gestured with his head towards the throne at the end of the room.

Henry and Emma followed him holding on to each other’s hands. Killian made to follow, when a hand on his chest stopped him. Looking down, he saw Snow’s watery eyes hiding a fire behind them. Emma’s fire.

“I have something important to ask of you.”

Killian nodded. “Of course, your Majesty.”

“That’s my daughter.” Her voice broke and she cleared her throat. “That’s my daughter and I want her back in my arms. I am prepared to give you anything you wish to protect her and make sure she lives. Gold. Jewels. Anything.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline the offer, Your Majesty.” 

“What?” Her eyes were wide open with shock, her lips parted.

“You see…” He trailed away for a moment, his smile towards her nothing like his usual smirk, there was too much swirling through his chest to allow for such arrogance. “I have no need for your gold or your jewels. All I need is for Emma to be safe.” He couldn’t help the way his eyes drifted to her, the way she smiled at her father, the way she shined.

When he looked back at the Queen, she was smiling, a soft smile that lit up her eyes. 

“You love her, don’t you?”

Killian looked away, scratching behind his ear. Was it so obvious?

“I’m starting to,” he confessed. “It creeps up on you, doesn’t it?”

Snow laughed and he couldn’t help but smile. 

“It does, yes.” She nodded, watching him for a few seconds and sobering up. “When we left the castle yest- I mean, that day, we had hope that we’d see her again, yes, but I also had hope that, even if we didn’t, she’d be loved. She’d be okay.”

The Queen cleared her throat, trying to stave off the swelling sadness.

“She told us it wasn’t anything like I’d hoped. I regret that we weren’t able to give her that happiness and love.” She took a deep shaky breath. “But she’s strong. She pushed through and she became more than we ever expected. Seeing the way you and Henry love her, makes it all a little easier. Thank you.”

“Believe me, Your Majesty, loving them is, without a doubt, the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

The smile on his face melted into shock by the Queen’s tight embrace around him. He hadn’t felt such motherly affection in years. His arms went around her slowly, his eyes closing.

“Killian, look what I have!”

Henry’s call broke their hug, Snow grabbing onto his arms to look at him with a smile. He could only smile back and let her hope fill him. Killian cleared his throat.

“What do you have, lad?” 

“A knife!”

“What?!” In a flash, Killian’s smile again turned into shock as he strode over to them.

“It’s not a knife, Henry. It’s a dagger,” David corrected, a smile on his face.

“Why does he even have a dagger?” 

“For protection,” David answered like it was obvious. “But only as a last resource, remember?”

“Yeah!” Henry’s reassurance didn’t mean much when the boy was pretending that he was in an imaginary fight with his dagger.

“Henry?” David crossed his arms on his chest and raised an eyebrow.

Henry looked up quickly, his eyes wide and mouth agape before nodding. “Right, last resource.” Sheepishly, the boy sheathed the dagger on the new scabbard on his belt. “Look, Snow. Look at my dagger!”

Despite his concern over the boy, he guessed David was right, Henry should be able to defend himself without his magic. Just the thought of the boy in danger, however… Killian didn’t want to consider it. He looked away to find Emma’s attention on the sword in her hands.

It looked nothing like her old one. This one looked heavier - more of a royal’s sword than a pirate’s, he guessed. The hilt was golden and the cross-guard was curved, a masterful build. 

“Looks like a perfect fit, don’t you think?” David asked, having followed his gaze, a look of pride in his eyes.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Since we can’t go with you, I want to know you’ll have a piece of me with you. To help you.” David’s voice was shaky despite his best efforts.

“Thank you.” Emma’s voice matched her father’s as she smiled back. She sheathed the sword on the equally detailed scabbard on her belt.

“Killian!” Henry called as he approached them with Snow. “Have you told them where we’re headed next?”

“No, lad.” He smiled. “I thought you’d want to do the honors.”

“So, last night, Killian checked Cygnus. You know, the star we’re following.” Henry looked between them and, like the avid listeners they were, they nodded. “It’s telling us to go West, to Ca-”

“I’m glad you’re all here.” There was a flash of blue magic after the sound of the Blue Fairy’s voice and Killian couldn’t help the surge of annoyance that rose in him at her presence and interruption.

“Is there something wrong?” Snow asked with a confused frown.

“No, no, I’m here to open a portal for Emma and the Truest Believer,” she answered matter-of-factly. “They’ll be heading to Camelot.”

Henry deflated next to him and Killian frowned. “How do you know that?” 

The Blue Fairy sighed. “Camelot is where Merlin will be waiting for the Truest Believer, to fulfill the prophecy.”

“What about Avalon?” Emma asked, taking a step forward. “I’m supposed to take Henry there.”

“Avalon is a myth, dear. It doesn’t exist. It’s merely a sailor’s tale.” Her tone was patronizing as she glanced unimpressed at Killian. 

“Tinkerbell told me that the prophecy said that’s where I’m supposed to take Henry.”

“You should know better than to listen to that girl. She has disgraced her role as a fairy and  has no business interpreting the prophecy.” 

Emma frowned at the fairy’s haughty and indifferent tone. He agreed with the sentiment. Killian watched as Henry took a deep breath and approached the fairy. He couldn’t help the step he took towards the boy, the instinct to protect rising fiercely in him, stopped only by Emma’s reassuring hand on his arm.

“Blue, I need to-”

“Ah, yes, Henry, I have something for you,” the fairy interrupted.

His face lit up expectantly but Killian had already learned to expect the worse from her. 

“Tiger Lily asked me to give you this.” In her hand was a vial of sparkly dust. “It's fairy dust.” 

Henry frowned as he reached up to take the vial, only for the Blue Fairy to pull it from his reach.

“I was against giving this to you, given your age, inexperience, and its power, but she was adamant that you have it. Tiger Lily is a… special fairy, and she knows how to get her point across.” The frown on her face told Killian there was more she was leaving out of the explanation, but given how secretive the fairies were - and the Blue Fairy in particular - he doubted any of them would ever know what it was. The fairy raised her eyebrow expectantly. “She assured me that you’d use it wisely.”

“Of course, you can trust me.” The boy clutched the vial carefully, reverently. “Did she say anything else?”

“No.”

Henry cleared his throat. “Then maybe you can answer some of my questions.” Killian was proud of his strong tone but the Blue Fairy’s unchanged expression didn’t give him hope that she’d answer.

“No time for that.” Blue waved him away and the boy’s crestfallen expression was heartbreaking. She turned to the others. “Say your goodbyes quickly and I’ll open the portal.”

As soon as Henry got close enough, Killian pulled him close. “I thought they cared.” The boy’s whisper had him tightening his embrace.

Pulling away, Killian caressed the boy’s cheek before patting the hand still clutching the vial with his hook. “I think they still do, my boy.” 

Henry looked down and nodded slowly. “Yeah…”

Killian pulled the boy in for another tight embrace, his hand on the back of his head.

“Be careful.” Snow spoke behind them, her hands on Emma’s cheeks, her voice shaky. “Trust your companions and please, don’t do anything reckless.” 

“That might be hard, considering how much like your mot-” Snow gave David a silent glare, causing a watery smile to bloom on Emma’s face. “Like all your family you are.” 

Emma smiled wide. “I promise I’ll be safe.” She was the one to initiate the hug now, her eyes closed in happiness, her hands gripping her parents’ clothes. “I’ll be back.”

Henry and Killian watched as they slowly released each other and Snow placed a kiss on Emma’s forehead. There was an insistent throat clearing from behind them that Killian completely ignored but broke the peaceful moment between the other three.

Snow and David made their way to Killian and Henry next, David pulling Henry into a big hug that lifted the boy’s feet from the ground and made his giggles echo in the large room. Snow’s hand was on his arm with a reminder of his promise in her eyes. He nodded.

They switched next and while David’s handshake wasn’t as emotional as Snow’s hug, Killian still saw the emotion in the man’s eyes, pleading for the same promise the Queen asked of him. Killian tightened his grip on the man’s hand and nodded, an unspoken agreement between the two. Snow was peppering kisses all over Henry’s face making him laugh once more. That was definitely a good start to an adventure.

The Blue Fairy’s impatience grew too loud to ignore and they all turned to her.

“Now that you’re all done,” the fairy pointedly remarked, “it’s time to go.”

With a wave of her wand, a bright orange portal roared to life. 

“We love you, Emma,” Snow called over the noise of the portal.

“Come back to us,” David added.

Emma nodded vigorously, lips thinned in overwhelming emotion. She held onto Henry’s hand. Killian held on to the other as they approached the swirling portal. They all turned back to look at the royals they were leaving behind for one last glance.

Not waiting another moment to change their minds, they all crossed through the portal. 

---

The first thing that came to Killian’s mind once they came out on the other side was the lack of nausea. Which was a very happy and welcome reprieve.

Second thing was the silence. 

They stood in the middle of a pathway, stone walls standing tall in front of them. Killian turned around to an empty village. Houses were closed, streets were clear, shops were shut.

He was getting really tired of desolate kingdoms. 

But this silence was different. There were people here, he could feel it. Unlike Misthaven, there were no signs of disaster. People were just gone. Hidden.

“Another deserted kingdom?” Emma sighed, her voice quiet.

“It seems our little adventure has a theme.” 

“I feel something inside those doors,” Henry whispered, his finger pointed at two large wooden doors embedded into a tall stone wall.

“Last chance to turn back,” Killian teased, even with an anxious cadence to his voice.

Emma rolled her eyes with a hint of a smile while Henry chuckled before pulling the two adults towards the doors. Taking a deep breath, they pushed the doors open.

The doors gave way to a large courtyard lit by the midday sun. On the other side of the circle, stood a man in shining silver armor. His hair was dark and his terrible grin shone in the sunlight. Next to him, sat a woman. Hair as dark as the man’s but her expression spoke of an immense sadness, regret and fear, all the fight taken out of her.

“He told me you’d appear,” The man said, his voice echoing in the courtyard.

“Who are you?” Killian asked, standing in front of Henry who grabbed onto his sleeve.

“I’m King Arthur of Camelot and I’ll be taking the Heart of the Truest Believer from you.”

“Just you, mate?” Killian asked, a smirk on his face and eyebrow raised. “I have to say, I like our odds.”

Arthur’s grin widened before he whistled. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Suddenly, a large lion-like creature crashed into the courtyard - its mane and tail was made of fire and it was easily twice the size of an actual lion. Its roar shook the ground they stood on.

“You had to ask,” Emma grumbled next to him, unsheathing her sword. 

“At least it’s just one this time,” Henry commented from behind them.

Killian sighed in exasperation, shifting on his feet as he armed himself.

The creature sat next to the king, his fiery eyes on the three strangers. While Killian was a man of bravery, the creature’s size was enough to make him reconsider his initial plan.

“Alright, mate, we might have started on the wrong foot,” Killian started, trying for a disarming tone.

“Give me the Heart of the Truest Believer or I will take it from you. It's as simple as that, mate,” Arthur interrupted.

“Why do you want it so much?” Henry asked, taking a step forward. Both Killian and Emma stepped closer to the boy at Arthur’s hungry stare. He knew it was Henry.

“Why?! My kingdom is broken, and your heart will make it whole!”

“And you’d kill an innocent boy for your kingdom?!” Emma asked, angrily.

“Please, Arthur,” the woman next to him pleaded. “You don’t need to do this, we can still be happy.”

Killian watched as the madness in Arthur’s gaze eased, his eyes shifting from his queen to Henry. There was something hidden behind his eyes - recognition. A fast blur flew over them and he felt as if they were being watched, a tingle on the back of his neck. Any progress he thought they had made with Arthur seemed to shatter, a shadow shuttering his eyes once more.

“For years, I lived for Merlin’s prophecies!” Arthur shouted. “For years, I was mocked, ridiculed, for believing that I would be king! And when it finally happened, I’m given this, this broken kingdom! But with your heart, I will make it whole! Your heart will make me a king!”

He raised his hand then, the beast standing on four feet, its fire burning bright and angry.

“No more talking, the Heart is mine!” 

Without any further warning, the beast leapt forward, its thundering steps unsettling their footing. Henry threw his hands up, a strong magical shield stopping it in its tracks. The shield wouldn’t last long, with the beast charging it again and again.

“What are we going to do?” Killian asked, watching Henry.

“Arthur is controlling the monster,” Emma answered, focused on the creature. “We need to split up.”

“What?”

“Like we did in Arendelle,” Henry added, with obvious difficulty. The strain of holding the shield against the monster’s attacks was wearing on the boy.

“Henry and I will deal with this beast, you’ll get Arthur,” Emma delegated. “On three, Henry will lower the shield, I will hold the creature back while you run to Arthur. Ok?”

Killian nodded. “Be careful, both of you.” His eyes lingered on his companions, hope burgeoning in him for their safety. 

“You too,” Henry said, Emma nodding in agreement.

“Alright, one, two, three!” 

Henry’s shield came down followed immediately by a blast of white magic from Emma’s hands. The beast was thrown a few feet, letting Killian use that distraction to run towards where Arthur watched the fight. Expectedly, Arthur saw him coming and armed himself in time to block Killian’s attack. 

The beast focused back on the magic users. Killian kept an attentive ear on the battle next to him, hoping that he wouldn't hear Emma or Henry get hurt.

Killian and Arthur’s swords clanged in tune with the beast’s growls. Arthur didn’t fight like any royal he’d fought against before but then again, neither did Killian.

“Call off your beast,” Killian grunted, as he managed to lock Arthur’s sword against his. “You won’t win!”

Arthur’s determined gaze spoke louder than any words as they forced each other’s swords.

More than willing to play dirty, Killian kicked at Arthur’s leg, ruining his balance and causing him to fall. While on the floor, Arthur grinned even with Killian’s sword pointed at him. But he wasn’t looking at him. “I disagree.” 

Killian’s heart beat louder in his chest as he turned to look at his companions, even knowing how dangerous it was. Turning to them, Killian saw Henry laying down, looking terrified as the beast’s large paws pinned him to the ground. The beast bellowed loudly.

He couldn’t see Emma.

“Henry!” Killian called, turning towards the boy, blind with his need to protect him.

“Not so fast.” Arthur’s smug voice reminded him of his ongoing battle. “We are not done yet.”

He was glad for his years of practice as he managed to side-step a swipe at his head. A white glow and a loud whine had him hoping that Emma had managed to save Henry. Arthur’s angry expression confirmed it.

From then on, his mind was torn. Killian tried to focus on Arthur’s fighting techniques, on learning and avoiding them, but he knew most of his focus was elsewhere.

There was a lull in the magical battle next to him. A million scenarios paraded through his mind and he hated all of them. His sword swipes became faster and more intense and he relished the frown on Arthur’s brow. Their swords locked and he put all his strength behind it.

“Now!” Henry’s shout surprised them both and they turned at the same time.

Killian watched as Henry jumped to the side as Emma used her hands to direct water on top of the beast. Amazingly effective, the fire was extinguished and the beast fell to the ground, breathing heavily.

“No!” Arthur shouted and Killian quickly focused on stopping any thought of intervention by holding his sword against the king’s neck.

Unflinchingly, Henry approached the beast and fumbled with something on his clothing. From where he stood, Killian saw the sparkle of what he assumed was the fairy dust Henry had been gifted fall on the beast.

A blinding light encompassed the large monster. When it was gone, they were all surprised to find a man lying where the beast used to be. A man wearing a knight’s outfit. 

“Lancelot!” The queen called from where she had been sitting restlessly before rushing towards the waking man on the floor. “I thought you had left.”

Despite the distance between where he stood and the tender scene in front of him, Killian still heard the relieved sigh of the man. “I could never leave you, Gwen.” 

Never had he thought they would be reuniting long-lost lovers with this adventure, but then again, he never thought he’d be in this adventure in the first place.

His eyes immediately found Henry and Emma, who appeared unscathed even if tired. The relieved feeling in his heart was overwhelming, and he couldn’t take his eyes off them. Killian could only look at Henry’s proud and happy expression, at Emma’s hand on the boy’s shoulder, and her own look of joy. It looked simply beautiful on her. 

“Killian! Look out!” Henry called loudly and Killian moved just in time to miss Arthur’s swipe at his head. A bright white light threw Arthur against one of the stone columns, rendering him unconscious.

A word of gratitude was stopped on his tongue at Emma’s look of terror and Henry’s matching one. A breeze blew through the courtyard making him aware of a cold sting on his throat. He dropped his sword to touch the left side of his neck. When he looked at his hand, there was an alarming amount of blood on it for a mere scratch.

“Oh.” Killian’s knees wobbled under him as he knelt to the ground. In seconds, Emma and Henry were in front of him.

There was pressure on his neck. Emma’s green eyes came into focus and his heart shattered at the worry and fear in them. He wished they would never look that way.

“Killian?” Henry’s quiet call squeezed his heart. He had promised that Henry wouldn’t feel that way again. “Can’t you heal him, Emma?” 

Emma shut her eyes and he mourned the loss. There was only the sound of his labored breathing.

“I can’t!” Emma shouted in frustration. “Come on, Killian, stay with us!”

He wanted to tell her that he wouldn't leave - that he would never leave them - but the pressure on his throat stopped him. Their faces turned blurry and he could feel his mouth open and close, wanting to tell him that it was okay, that all that mattered was that they were okay. That he loved them.

Emma’s face became even more blurry as she shook her head.

“No.” Her voice sounded far away but never more clear. “We are not losing you, not now, not ever.” He felt her deep breath in his own chest.

The warmth on his hand disappeared and Killian watched as Emma grabbed Henry’s hand and placed it over hers on his neck. “We’ll do this together, like we’ve done everything so far. What do you say, kid?”

Killian could hear the desperation in her voice and he wondered if Henry could hear it too. The pressure on his neck grew and he was finally able to take a deep breath.

“Let’s do this.” Henry’s voice was less confident than he no doubt intended, too wrapped in despair, but it didn’t make Killian trust him any less.

There was a sudden burning feeling on his throat and he howled in pain. He felt as though his wound was being cauterized from the inside. There was a tight grip on his arms, barely felt over the pain. 

He remembered the way Nemo held his only hand as the blurry face of a shipmate burned his stump. He remembered wanting it to stop, wanting everything to stop, wanting the peace and quiet of death. He remembered the way he held onto revenge when he woke up days later. 

This pain, however, he bore it, cherished it, welcomed it because he knew that it would allow him to live. It would allow him to be okay. It would allow him to see Emma and Henry again.

“Killian?” 

It did.

His eyes fluttered open to find the worried faces of his companions, his family. Killian only had a second to witness the look of relief and happiness on Henry’s face before the boy threw himself against him in a tight hug, the feeling of holding the boy in his arms better than any magical remedy.

With his arms wrapped around the boy, he finally looked at Emma. There were tears in her eyes but the most beautiful smile on her lips. How he loved her smile. 

“You aren’t getting rid of me yet, love.” His voice was hoarse and quieter than he expected but it was worth it for the quiet chuckle she gave.

“Good.”

He felt the warmth of her hand on his face, the light stroke of her thumb on his cheek but all he could see were her eyes. The happiness, the relief, and something else he hoped would be there for a long time to come.

“Is he okay?” A familiar female voice sounded from behind Emma. 

She nodded, without taking her eyes off him, a soft smile on her lips. “Yeah, he’s okay.”

Henry’s head lifted from their embrace to smile brightly at the two of them and Killian could only laugh. Laugh at how stupidly happy he was to have met them. The way they joined in his laughter warmed his heart, and reminded him of how happy he was to be alive.

Killian held on to Emma’s arm, sadly staining the white shirt with his blood - not that they cared much - so he could sit up. Henry’s hands were on his arms, a worried frown on his forehead. But Killian only smiled. He was alive, he was okay, he was ready to carry on his life with them. His hand tightened on Emma’s arm as he bumped his forehead with Henry’s. 

“Thank you,” he whispered before he moved back to look at the two of them. “Thank you for saving me.”

Henry’s smile was wide, his small body crashing into him for a second time. “Thank you for staying.” The boy’s whisper sounded loud in his ears and he wished he could stay in this moment forever.

A loud scream interrupted them.

They looked towards the source to find the queen with a horrified look on her face as she pointed towards the far side of the courtyard. 

“Arthur…” Lancelot whispered with the same expression.

They all turned to see Arthur’s body standing in front of the pillar Emma had thrown him against. That would be alarming all on its own, but the truly shocking part was the fact that his head hung forward, the man still clearly unconscious. The king’s body took stumbling steps towards them, his head lolling from side to side. 

As Arthur continued his lumbering approach, Killian noticed a second shadow on the floor. A much less fumbling figure from Arthur’s unstable form.

With Emma’s help, Killian stood from the ground, pulling Henry behind them. From the corner of his eye, he could see Lancelot - even in his weakened state - try to shield his queen.

And then, Arthur stopped. 

They watched as his head was thrown back, his whole body following suit and so precariously unbalanced that Killian wondered how he was still on his feet.

A bright gash appeared in the middle of Arthur’s chest without any response from the man, not even a small whimper, even when a hand burst out from the rift. One of the shadows reflected on the ground began to convulse until it disappeared. 

“Take her to safety, now!” Emma yelled towards the other two people in the courtyard, forcing Henry further behind them, hoping to block his view.

They heard the urging voice of Lancelot and the frightened voice of the queen before the couple’s rushed footsteps reached their ears. 

Their full attention drawn back in front of them once Lancelot and the queen were safely away, they watched as a second hand joined the first, widening the tear in the king’s chest. Killian could only hope he could spare Henry the nightmares that were sure to follow the gruesome scene. It was only moments before a blonde head emerged from the fissure. And then the figure stepped out of the former king’s carcass to stand in front of them, Arthur’s body crumbling to the ground.

“When you want something done, you have to do it yourself.” The surprise guest’s voice was eerily peppy given the macabre scene surrounding them and Killian struggled to keep his jaw from dropping.

He looked only a few years older than Henry, even though his face told of decades of existence and he was dressed in a green outfit that reminded Killian of Emma’s old one. He’d seen him before. Emma gasped.

“Pan…” 

“Hello, Duckling.” Pan was grinning and his voice lacked surprise. He knew they would be here. “Didn’t think you’d seen the last of me, did you?”

“H-How is this possible? You can’t leave Neverland!” Emma’s voice trembled. She looked terrified, a panic in her eyes that he’d only seen once before - when they sailed too close to the island aboard the Black Pearl. A lost girl.

“Our dimwitted king helped me with that,” Pan said smugly, pointing towards the body. “His failure gave me enough time to get the Heart of the Truest Believer myself.” 

“You’re just as dimwitted if you think we’ll let you take the Heart.” Killian took a step forward, inching himself closer to Emma and covering Henry more.

“Ah, Captain Hook, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” Emma tensed up next to him and Henry placed a questioning hand on his arm but he didn't stop directing his glare towards Pan. “I had expected a bounty hunter like you to have been more interested in the deal I offered.”

“You were wrong.” 

“Pan was the one who sent you after me?” Henry’s quiet question pulled his attention off Pan.

“I didn’t know who he was when we spoke.”

“Lucky for you, I’ll give you another chance.” Their eyes followed Pan’s casual pacing, the feeling of prey watching a predator settling on them. “Give me the boy and you can leave. Go back to your life.”

Killian glared at Pan’s knowing and confident grin, as if he knew Killian would take the deal. Henry’s hand tightened on his left arm, and Emma sent him a sidelong glance. But Killian couldn’t take his eyes off Pan.

“And what makes you think I would accept?” 

“It’s like you said,��� Pan replied with a shrug of his shoulders, “you’re a survivor.” 

A shiver ran down his spine. He’d never said that to Pan or anyone else besides Emma. Not for the first time, the feeling came over him that they were being watched.

“I have been watching you three for a while.” Pan’s eerily calm demeanor became even more disturbing. “So, I’m going to sweeten the deal. Give me the boy and I’ll even let you take someone with you. Emma.” His penetrating stare landed on her and a small, utterly depraved and evil smile lifted the corner of his lips before he spoke again. “My sweet duckling.  We both know how much you would love that.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I’ll kill you all.” 

The demon’s nonchalant attitude as he made the statement made gooseflesh erupt on Killian’s skin, but he just hummed, as if considering the proposal. “That’s an interesting proposition.” His hand tightened on his dagger. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse.” 

Killian was grateful for his connection with Emma as his thrown dagger was matched by the whistling of her short arrow. The weapons traveled towards their common enemy, only for a dark blur to stop them.

Pan laughed, a terrible laugh that made his ears ring. “You didn’t really think it would be that easy, did you?”

They didn’t have time to answer before they were being pulled back by the arms. Killian felt the tight grip immobilizing him but when he tried to escape, he couldn’t see anyone. Looking towards where Emma was caught in the same struggle as he was, he noticed a dark shadow behind her, a shadow holding the arms of her shadow. It occurred to him that this might be a battle they wouldn’t be able to win.

Pan approached with slow, confident steps where Henry stood helplessly looking between his two companions. The lad looked scared but Killian’s struggle to escape was useless.

“Get away from the boy!” 

“Leave him alone!”

Killian and Emma’s voices were angry but they were laced with desperation.

“You had your chance.” Pan shrugged again with a wide grin. “Now, you’ll get to see me kill the boy. And then, you’ll see me kill my runaway Swan. Only then will I kill you. Nice and slow!”

Killian’s struggle grew more violent as Pan got closer to Henry. From the corner of his eye, he could see Emma was doing the same. 

“Why do you want my heart?” Killian could hear the fear in Henry’s voice, but there was bravery in his eyes.

“Have you learned nothing? I want power! I want the power your heart will give me!” Henry had to look up as Pan approached, but he didn’t back down. 

There was pride mixed in with Killian’s fear.

“How did you know it was me?”

“I thought you were smarter than that, laddie,” Pan grinned. “A prophecy told me about you, a baby born in a night with no moon or stars. Your parents knew it too, so it took me a long time to find you.”

“You saw my parents?” Henry’s voice was quiet, like the young boy he never got the chance to be. Killian’s frown matched the one on Emma’s face.

“No. But my Lost Ones did, the last ones to see them alive.” Pan’s fake pout had Killian’s hair stand at attention. “But that’s only because they’re the ones who killed them.”

The heartbreak coming from Henry nearly brought Killian to his knees. The boy knew he was an orphan but to hear it spoken of so callously and with so much certainty was the height of cruelty. It was clear Pan was enjoying inflicting this pain on the boy. He was feeding off it.

“They told me your father was the first to go, trapped in the house when my boys set it on fire-”

“Stop it!” Emma shouted.

“But your mother?” Pan continued, ignoring the two adults’ struggle, his grin widening. “She escaped, ran away with you, but she didn’t go far-”

“Don’t listen to him, lad!”

“Your mother abandoned you and ran away. You should be thanking me for having had her killed, she deserved it. We even celebrated!”

“He’s lying, Henry, I remember that night!” Emma’s voice broke through Pan’s sadistic game, bringing it to a screeching halt.

Henry turned to her and Killian saw the tears streaking down his cheeks and his begging eyes. Killian’s struggle intensified.

“Remember your place, Duckling,” Pan warned but she ignored him.

“That was the night I escaped, I remember the screams on the island. They weren’t celebrating,” she explained feverishly, “They had failed.” Her eyes were on the boy, a hint of a smile on her face, a smile meant only for him. “They were after you, but they didn’t find you. She didn’t abandon you and deep down you know that.”

Pan growled and Killian watched as another shadow joined the one behind Emma to pull on her hair. An involuntary whimper of pain escaped her lips even as she tried to stifle it. Henry took a step towards her but she shook her head the best she could to stop him. The boy turned back towards Pan.

“She didn’t abandon me.” Henry spoke clearly and with his head held high. “She protected me from you, she saved me. Your games won’t work on me.”

There was a moment when Pan’s frown marred his young face where Killian foolishly thought they could win, that Henry’s bravery would be enough. But then Pan smiled.

“You’re right, no more games.” His voice was soft and calm but it only unnerved them. “I’ll be clear, give me your heart or they die.”

Pan grinned as he snapped his fingers. A black figure appeared in front of Killian, there was no face, no body, merely the shadow of a person. That’s what it was, a shadow - he’d never seen one up close and he suddenly feared it would be the last thing he would ever see.

Without warning, the shadow grabbed onto his shoulders and began to slowly pull. This pain was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, including the one he had suffered only moments ago. It felt like his insides were being pulled out of him - as if his very essence was being removed.

His screams of pain were echoed by Emma’s, who was clearly suffering his same fate. 

“Run, Henry!” Killian yelled. “You need to run!”

“No! I won’t leave you, I won’t let you die!” 

“You need to go, Henry!” Emma urged him between screams of pain.

“No!” Henry unsheathed his dagger to point it at Pan. “Let them go!” Henry looked so frightened, his dagger held in a shaky grip. 

“Even if you could kill me, they would still die,” Pan gloated with a shrug. Henry’s arm lowered in defeat. “What’ll it be, Believer? You or them?”

“No!”

“Don’t listen to him!”

“I’m sorry… This is my fault, but I can still save you.” 

Time stopped as they watched Henry’s hand shine with a white light before he shoved it into his own chest. They watched as Henry removed a golden heart, his knees wobbling. 

“Please, Henry!”

“Don’t do this!”

Henry glanced towards them with a brave and hopeful gaze. “I love you.” 

They watched as Henry pushed the golden heart into Pan’s chest before collapsing to the floor. Pan’s victorious laughter surrounded them, but what truly mattered was that suddenly there was nothing restraining them, nothing pulling the life out of them anymore.

Before he could take a proper breath, Killian was kneeling next to Henry’s unconscious body, Emma on the other side. His hand touched the boy’s neck, his chest, hoping for a heartbeat he knew wouldn’t be there. His skin was still warm and Killian remembered another one he loved who laid in his arms the same way.

“Is- Is he dead?” Emma’s voice was quiet and Pan’s laughter grew louder and stronger.

Killian’s mouth opened and closed silently, unable to answer her question, unable to admit the truth they both knew.

“People will do the stupidest things for love,” Pan pouted, a fake mournful tone to his voice.

“You did this!” Emma growled but Killian grabbed her arm, stopping her.

“Actually, he did it to himself,” Pan shrugged, an unconcerned smile on his face. “You saw it, he took out his own heart, but don’t worry, it’s in a safe place.” He patted his chest with a smug grin.

Unable to look at Pan’s face anymore, Killian turned back to the boy. He looked like he was simply asleep, like he would wake at any moment. But Killian knew he wouldn’t. He felt Emma’s anger-fueled grief under his grip as he heard Pan take a deep satisfying breath.

“I finally have the Heart and now the world will be my Neverland!” Pan held out his arms in triumph. “Thank him for me. I’m sure you’ll be seeing him soon enough.” 

Killian let go of Emma’s wrist as his hand went to the boy’s chest, feeling the still chest when his own heart was hammering against his. It wasn’t fair.

“Take my heart.” Emma’s words matched his own as they both spoke at the same time, the same expressions on their faces - determination and hope.

Killian glanced towards Pan, hoping the villain was too distracted to stop them. He stood a few feet away focused only on the new power in his chest and the bright golden light of his stolen magic, victorious.

“Emma,” Killian started in a quiet voice. “I promised to return you to your parents. If we’re going to use anyone’s heart, it should be mine.”

Emma shook her head. “No, I won’t take you from his life. You’re too important to him.”

“So are you!”

“I don’t even know if this will work for us and then you will have died for nothing.”

“If it’s to save Henry, it won’t be for nothing.”

They looked at each other, their faces both stubborn and hopeful.

“Together?” she asked, her voice wobbly.

“Emma-”

“We’ve done everything together since we met, Killian. We should do this together, too.” 

Killian took a deep breath, focusing on her green eyes. He nodded and the way they brightened with hope was enough for him to nod more vigorously.

“Together.”

Emma laid her hand on his chest, but where there had been confidence, now there was fear. “I’ve never done this before.” 

He placed his hand over her wrist. “I believe in you.”

Emma nodded and pushed her hand into his chest. He stifled a grunt of pain when she pulled it back out. He hadn’t expected the surprisingly red heart that she now held in her hand, a small dark blob in the center of it. Maybe he wasn’t as lost as he thought. 

The world was dull around them and there was a feeling of emptiness in his chest. He still felt the love for the two people in front of him but it felt muted. 

She took a deep breath as she looked between his heart and him before she plunged her own hand inside her chest. With her own groan of pain, she removed her hand, now holding a bright red heart.

“Hmm, I should split them.”

“Aye, that should work.” A weak chuckle made the corner of her lips rise.

Emma placed her heart confidently in his hand. Killian held it reverently as she focused on his. He felt the magic in her fingers, her careful grip, like a warm fire in his chest. Her heart beat fast in his hand and he hoped she felt the same warmth that he felt.

He winced when she finally jerked her hands, successfully splitting his heart. “That was interesting.”

“I’m sorry.” Her eyes were wide in concern.

Killian shook his head. “We need to hurry.” 

They traded hearts and he held on to his split heart as Emma focused on hers. He glanced at Pan to see him floating a foot off the ground, hands raised. Killian noticed how the courtyard appeared darker, despite the high sun in the sky. He watched as a couple of shadows already circled Pan’s feet. They really needed to hurry and get out of there.

He heard her whimper and turned to see her holding her halved heart. She quickly placed one half back in her chest, a shiver running down her body as she got used to the feeling.

“Now, you.” 

She grabbed one half of his heart and placed it in his chest. It was a strange feeling. It was a relief to be able to feel again, no longer the muted experience of before, but there was still a sense of being incomplete, of something missing.

They looked at each other, an unspoken question between them. He nodded.

He held his breath as Emma joined both halves together, as they stitched themselves to form a complete heart. They took a deep breath when it worked. Their surroundings were darkening and the glowing red heart was like a beacon.

Killian grabbed Emma’s wrist. Their hands holding the constructed heart hovered over Henry’s chest and with a last deep breath, they pushed.

“Fight, my boy.”

“Come back to us.”

It felt like years before Henry took a gasping breath. A powerful wave of multicolored energy passed through them and then they heard it.

“No!”

Pan’s scream caught their attention and they watched as he came back to earth, turned towards them, and began to approach with angry steps before falling to his knees. A bright beacon began to form on his chest and Pan’s screams turned from fury into pain. 

They watched, dumbfounded, as Pan burned from the inside out until there was nothing but ash where he once stood. He wouldn’t be missed. They looked up as the midday sun began to shine brightly in the sky again.

“Henry?” Emma called softly, her voice watery.

The boy finally opened his eyes. Glancing between the two adults, he seemed to understand exactly what just happened. His lips curled in a small smile.

“Guess I have another great story to tell, huh?”

Emma let out a startled laugh before she pulled Henry into a tight hug, Killian shaking his head amusedly before joining. They all took a collective breath.

Killian could feel his beating heart echo, feeling twice the love, no longer incomplete. He cupped Henry’s head and placed a kiss on his forehead, completely unconcerned over his wobbly voice.

“We thought we lost you, my boy.” 

“But you didn’t lose hope.” Henry smiled before burrowing his face in Emma’s neck.

Emma chuckled, running her fingers through the boy’s hair. “We learned from the best.”

Henry is the first to break the hug but he doesn’t go far, his hands holding each adult’s arm in a tight grip. “I love you.”

Killian shouldn’t have been surprised by the sentiment, considering the great lengths they had all gone for each other in the time they’ve known each other, but it’s still surprising to see someone give their love so instantly, so freely. His heart felt too large for his chest even with its reduced size, but he cherishes it.

Emma’s smile widened and she stroked his face. “We love you, too.”

“You know we do. I’m sure you can feel it.” Killian tapped the boy’s chest with his hook, with a smile.

Henry smiled widely, eyes watering before nodding vigorously and pulling them both close for another hug. Killian can only hope to feel this love everyday for the rest of his life.

“Are you all alright?” 

The familiar female voice broke their quiet moment. Not giving up much of their personal space, the three of them turned to see the Queen approaching slowly with a steadier Lancelot, his arm around her shoulders.

Killian took a deep breath. “Aye, and I’m pleased to see you safe and sound as well.”

“We wanted to help, bu-” 

“This was our battle,” Emma interrupted Lancelot’s apology with a kind smile. “You two were in no shape to fight.”

“Besides,” Henry turned to them with a smile of his own. “Camelot needs its queen safe and sound.”

Despite the Queen’s smile, they could all see the guilt in the furrow of her brow. “I knew he was obsessed with the prophecy, but I always thought I would have my Arthur back.” She paused for a moment. “I never thought he was so…mad.”

“Gwen,” Lancelot interrupted. “Arthur was lost to us a long time ago. We tried our best to help him, he just wouldn’t listen.”

Killian stood first before he helped Emma and Henry stand next to him. “He’s right, there was nothing any of us could do.”

“Pan is- was a demon, he corrupted whatever good Arthur had in his heart. Like he does to all things.” 

Emma’s tone had Killian placing his hand on her arm, Henry leaning back against her in a gesture of comfort. 

Gwen nodded, wiping her tears. “Now, Camelot can return to its former glory.”

“With a wonderful Queen to rule it,” Lancelot added with a soft smile.

As Gwen’s cheeks reddened, Killian turned away with an amused smile mimicked by Emma, while Henry watched them with bright eyes. Killian’s eyes found Emma’s and he cherished the reddish hue on her own cheeks.

Gwen cleared her throat hoping to move away from the moment but they noticed the way her hand found Lancelot’s as she did. “We would like to thank you. If there’s anything you need…”

“We wanna know where to find Merlin,” Henry burst out, Killian’s hand on his shoulder doing little to ease his excitement.

The way Gwen and Lancelot looked at each other quickly told Killian and Emma that they wouldn’t find the answers they hoped for there.

“Merlin has never been here.”

“At least, not while we’ve lived here.”

Henry’s silence was deafening and he looked up at his two companions with a worried frown.

Killian sighed as he squeezed the boy’s shoulder in comfort. “Do you know where we can find him?” 

Gwen was quiet for a moment. “When we were children, Arthur used to speak to a tree in the kingdom grounds that he believed Merlin had been trapped in. That’s where he was told of the prophecies.”

“When he came into power, he cut down every tree around the castle grounds. So even if Merlin had been here, I suspect he no longer is…”

Killian nodded, trying not to let his frustration show.

“We should carry on our way, then. There’s still a lot we need to do,” Emma answered with a tight smile.

“Are you sure we can’t give you anything? You can rest here, eat.” Gwen frowned.

Killian felt Henry’s questioning stare on his face but ignored it. “We should really get going, but thank you.”

They made quick work of grabbing their things and walked out of the kingdom’s gates under the confused stares of the Queen and her knight. Both Emma and Killian ignored Henry’s confusion until they were a safe distance from the castle. By then, the Camelot people were leaving their houses with questioning gazes and curious questions. 

“Why did we leave so fast?” Henry finally asked.

“We don’t know them, lad.”

“They might not have been on Arthur or Pan’s side but there are always dangers around,” Emma added, holding on to Henry’s hand as they made their way through the crowds.

“But they were good people, we could have asked them what they know.”

“We did, and they didn’t know anything, lad. They were victims just like us and they now have to deal with a whole kingdom wanting answers.”

“So where are we supposed to go now?”

Killian and Emma were quiet at that. The truth was they didn’t know. This was the first time they didn’t know where to go. Pan was defeated, that should have been the final piece.

“You don’t know, do you?” Henry asked with a raised eyebrow and a smile creeping up on his face.

“Well,” Emma stuttered, causing Henry to chuckle and Killian to smile. “I know we need to get to Avalon…”

“We just don’t know how to get there,” Killian finished with a teasing smile.

“It’s not like Cygnus is available to give us directions.” Emma gestured towards the bright afternoon sky pointedly.

Henry laughed. They had reached the town proper. They stood in the middle of the emptying market, everyone had followed the news towards the castle, only the merchants left behind, worried over leaving their wares. 

“We should find somewhere to wait until evening,” Killian told his companions. It was the only permission Henry needed to begin exploring the market under their watchful eye. “We’ll check for Cygnus then.”

“I agree.” He watched Emma’s smile from the corner of his eye and couldn't help but match it.

They could breathe now. Their journey wasn’t over but they defeated Pan. Henry was alive and so were they. The more he looked at her and the more he heard Henry bombarding questions at the merchants, the happier he was for being with them now, for having made the decision to protect Henry when they first met.

Her eyes found his and his breath hitched in his chest. Their last conversation played through his mind. They hadn’t reached Avalon yet, but after what they just went through, a part of him didn’t want to hold back any longer.

“Emma-”

“Killian-” 

They spoke at the same time, pausing to look at each other with a shy smile.

“You go first,” Emma allowed with a nod.

“Emma, I-”

He'd recognise that ship anywhere. The rigging he climbed time and time again, the hull he begged to help clean with Starkey while they flew forty thousand feet in the sky. The ship he tried to escape from so many times. The ship that turned out to be the home he never had.

Nemo would be there. He would be there and so would his disappointed eyes. His anger. At that moment, he felt just like the troubled teen he hadn't been in a long time.

Emma looked at him with expectant and confused eyes as his silence and stupefied expression lasted longer and longer. He looked once more at the ship but saw no familiar faces looking out but that wouldn’t always be true.

“We need to go.”

“What?” Emma frowned, defensiveness taking over.

“Where’s Henry?” Killian looked around. “Henry!” The boy’s dark head of hair quickly turned to where they stood in confusion. “We need to go now.” 

“What happened?” Henry asked as he approached. “Is someone after us?”

“Killian Jones!”

The familiar booming voice echoed through the emptied market. Emma turned around first to see an imposing figure in a pristine naval outfit. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the man’s crossed arms. Killian wasn’t sure he could face an expression of sorrow on the face of the man he considered a father. 

“I have been looking for you.”

[cs-rylie]

Chapter 2 of Threads of Destiny, a birthday gift for @jrob64 😘

Tag list below the line - lmk if you'd like to be added or removed!

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[searchingwardrobes]

No Wives, No Mothers, No Lovers : 5/7

Yes, finally! An update! @snowbellewells​, I'm sorry this fic is taking me so long to finish. I hope you enjoy this chapter, especially the characters that appear in it, even though it ends on a cliffhanger. Yes, I said a cliffhanger. On the bright side, this fic is near completion. Yay! Love ya, Marta, and I hope this summer is full of sunshine and rest.

Summary:   He must be hallucinating. Because Emma Swan is supposed to be in Miami, Florida where he left her. Emma Swan isn’t supposed to be on this rocky stretch of beach, completely drenched, and wearing a ball gown of all things. A Lieutenant Duckling AU (sort of) in which Emma is a siren who isn’t supposed to fall in love with a human.  

Length: about 3k in this chapter

Rated: T

Previous Chapters: One | Two | Three  | Four

Also on Ao3

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Chapter Five:

Killian gasps and coughs, his chest burning and his head pounding. He’s trembling all over, soaked to the bone, and the rain is pouring down again. Everything is blurry; he can barely see through the storm and rain, but he thinks he sees Emma’s blonde hair. Thinks he feels its soft, silky strands caress his cheek, which is odd. Her hair should be wet. But maybe every bit of it is a dream because his eyes slide shut, and then darkness surrounds him again . . . 

The next time he awakes, he can’t keep his eyes open, no matter how hard he tries. He only gets glimpses of the people around him, and a bright light above. The light hurts. The sand and rocks scrape his skin. Someone calls his name . . . 

He awakes the third time in a hospital bed. The light still hurts. So does his throat. Its silent except for the beeping of machines. Liam is asleep in the chair beside his bed, but the moment Killian turns his head, Liam is awake and reaching for his hand. 

“Emma,” Killian manages to rasp out, his throat like sandpaper. 

Liam frowns, shaking his head. “You were alone on the beach when we found you.”

Killian struggles to speak, but his throat feels like it’s closing up. Liam tries to get him to stop talking, to calm down. 

“Must . . . find her . . . help her.”

Liam has a difficult time meeting his gaze, but he finally manages to tell him the truth. “Killian, it stormed that night. The tide was strong. The shoes Emma was wearing washed up on the beach, so . . .”

And just like that, a piece of Killian dies. At least, it must, considering what comes as the months slip by . . . 

The doctors can’t explain any of it. There seems to be no purpose for the fevers that rage, the pain that afflicts different parts of Killian’s body: sometimes his throat so he can not speak, sometimes his legs so he can not walk, sometimes his head so he can not tolerate the light. Things get worse as the days turn to weeks, the weeks into months. At times he struggles to breath, at others he doubles over in pain. He has no appetite, but he tries to eat whenever he sees the fear in Liam’s eyes. The food only comes right back up again, though. He’s slowly wasting away, and nothing can explain why. Every test comes back negative. There’s no cancer, no autoimmune disease, no tumors, no explanation whatsoever. Killian jokes that he’s a gift to medical science. Neither Liam nor Elsa laugh. 

He never thought of himself as important in the town of Storybrooke, or even well-liked. Yet, all of a sudden, he seems to be the town's beloved son. The church’s pray for him every Sunday, fundraisers are thrown to cover his medical costs, a wheelchair and a ramp are donated by the nuns in town, and they have enough casseroles in the freezer to feed them for an entire year. 

He has visitors often, even from “the dwarves.” When Liam and Elsa push him along Main Street in his wheelchair, everyone stops to talk.

One afternoon, Killian shouts for Liam to stop. 

“What is it, little brother?”

Killian peers at the boardwalk along the shore, his eyes narrowed. A flash of bright red hair is the last thing he sees. Killian sags in his chair. 

“Nothing. I just thought I saw someone I knew.”

*******************************************************************

Miles away, a strange procession walks towards the shore. Three beautiful young women carry the emaciated body of a fourth young woman. Though the fourth one is unable to keep her eyes open and sags in their arms, she is easy to carry.

The women walk right into the sea, floating the sick woman’s body upon the water. Her blonde hair fans out around her. It was once sparkling gold, now it is a sallow, dirty yellow. Her once pink, fair skin is now a ghastly gray. Her full cheeks are now sunken and dark circles line her eyes. 

The eldest of the women, a woman with auburn hair named Belle, takes charge. She has served Mother Ocean for fifty years now. Not as long as Emma, but half her sentence. Mother wouldn’t appreciate the word “sentence,” however. She would call the last fifty years her “gift” to Belle. 

“Mother! We need your help, Mother!” Belle calls. 

The ocean ripples around them, shimmering as it curls around to caress them. Though no words can be heard with human ears, the four sirens can understand Mother Ocean as she speaks. 

Well, at least three of them can now. The blonde may be past the ability to hear anyone, even the ocean. 

What is wrong with my daughter? Why is she sick? Sirens can’t get sick!

“Obviously they can,” mutters Ruby, her dark hair cascading about her, still full and dry though it is halfway in the water. Ruby has served Mother Ocean for thirty years and can still be a bit rebellious.

“Careful, Ruby,” Belle warns. 

“Emma is dying!” Ruby snaps. “I don’t give a damn about protocol.”

The Ocean calls herself their Mother. Calls the sirens her daughters. Says she loves them. But she can also be a cruel and capricious master.

My Emma can not die while in my care! 

Mother Ocean rages, ripping Emma’s body from the hands of her sister sirens and plunging her beneath the waters. 

“No!” the other three shout. 

Mother Ocean releases the blonde siren in mere moments, however. Emma pops up out of the water, choking and gasping for breath. She sags, struggles, then goes back under. The other three grab her and hold her aloft upon the water once again. 

“See!” The siren with bright red hair weeps. Her name is Ariel and she has only just begun her sentence as a siren two years ago. She still has 98 years of service ahead of her. 

I don’t understand. The Ocean’s voice echoes in their heads. Why can’t she breathe underwater anymore? Why can’t she swim?

“We were hoping you could tell us that,” Ruby replies. 

Suddenly, the waves grab the brunette. Tendrils of watery tentacles wrap around her neck, and Ruby begins to gasp for breath, her fingers clawing at the watery strands about her neck. 

Perhaps I have tolerated your insolence for too long, daughter!

“Please, Mother,” a sickly voice rasps, “spare her. She is only worried about me, her sister.”

Mother Ocean drops Ruby with a splash and envelopes Emma in a watery cradle. 

My dearest Emma, what is wrong?

Though she is gasping for breath, Ruby still speaks the truth. “Perhaps it’s the fifty years you added to her sentence. She only had twenty more to serve!”

She vowed she would do anything if I only saved that boy. She defied me by going to him at all! She knew the rules! I had mercy upon her. And him. 

It was the way of the sirens. No wives, no mothers, no lovers. Mother Ocean would not rescue a woman from drowning if she was any of those things. And when a woman made the deal - salvation from drowning in exchange for one hundred years of service as a siren - she also agreed to never fall in love. 

“Honestly?” Belle says quietly. “She was never the same after the cruise ship.”

She has always been tenderhearted. Sighs Mother Ocean, as if it is a character flaw. Yet she defied me too that day!

Belle, Ruby, and Ariel exchange hesitant glances. It’s true. Mother Ocean has to be fed, and it’s up to her sirens to fulfill her appetite by luring people to their deaths with their song. It isn’t a pleasant task for any siren, but it has always been especially difficult for Emma. Maybe because her family died the day she was rescued. Or maybe because there had always been something special about Emma. A sense of compassion and justice. That fateful day when Mother Ocean had called them to the cruise ship, Emma had stopped singing when she saw the bride in the water, frantically searching the waves for her groom. Emma had been tempted to save that bride, and Mother Ocean was not happy. 

Then Emma had disappeared. They all knew she was heartbroken. They didn’t know she had swam towards Killian - the boy she’d fled from in Miami. 

“She tried to forget him, you know,” Ariel tries to explain. “She said she didn’t even mean to go to him. She didn’t even know where he was. She said she felt a tug in her middle, and she swam where it was tugging her.”

Mother Ocean trembles. What did you say?

Ariel, new at this and still terrified of crossing Mother Ocean, gives her sisters a terrified look. 

“A tugging,” Belle takes over. “She felt a tug telling her where to swim, so to speak.”

And after I saved the boy?

“She was depressed at first,” Belle explains sadly, “and then there was the day you called us to that yacht. She did her job, same as always, but halfway home, she was struggling to breathe and swim.”

I remember that. I carried her home. 

“And it’s only worsened since then,” Ariel continues. “She felt like she had a cold, which should be impossible.”

Sirens are immortal during their hundred years of service. They can’t get sick or hurt. They don’t even get tired or need sleep. Then, after their service is fulfilled, the immortality is lifted, and they are a human again at the same age they were when called: 17, 18, or 19. Each girl gets to choose where to live out her new human life. Her sisters help her plan, get settled, and then . . . Her memory of a siren is erased. 

One hundred years, then a clean slate. It seems an easy choice. At first. When all you're thinking of is death by drowning. 

“I’m telling you,” Ruby says, voice still raspy from Mother Ocean’s threat, “you broke her heart with your punishment. She’s tenderhearted about our job, yes, but she’s always loved you, Mother.”

She is a good daughter. Mother Earth caresses Emma again, rocking her in a sweet embrace. And I love her. Which is why I don’t understand. If she loves me, why should fifty more years with me matter? I confess, I was relieved to have her longer. I don’t want to give her up. 

“That isn’t love!” Ruby shouts. In a perverse way, maybe she wants Mother to destroy her. 

What do you mean? 

Tears stream down Ruby’s face. “Love wants what is best for the other person. Love doesn’t demand affection. Love doesn’t threaten. We fear you, Mother!”

“Ruby,” Belle whispers with concern. 

As you should!! Thunders mother ocean. What power on earth compares to mine? 

“None,” the girls answer.

“Please, Mother,” Ariel begs, “heal Emma.”

I - I don’t know how. This . . . shouldn’t be possible. The boy - No, it couldn’t be. It’s never happened.

The three sirens exchange glances, then they nod in agreement.

“He’s sick, too,” Belle tells the Ocean.

What?

“We tracked him down,” Ruby explains. “We thought maybe if Emma knew he was okay, she would get better.”

Ariel picks up the story. “But when we found him, he was dying. With the same symptoms Emma has.”

“Is it because Emma kissed him?” Belle asks. 

If that were the case, Ruby would have died a long time ago.

Ruby shrugs with a self-deprecating smile as the Ocean ripples with her version of laughter. 

I suspected when you mentioned the tugging Emma felt. It’s incredibly rare, but Emma has found her true love. They are now connected. 

“Then why are they dying?” Ariel asks. 

Because I have separated them. The only way either one will survive is if I let Emma go.

“Then do it!” the three girls shout.

I won’t let her go! She is mine!!!!

“Exactly like I said,” Ruby says sadly, softly, “you don’t know how to love.”

It is eerily silent for several long, tense, moments. Then the tide sucks at Emma’s body, ripping her from the arms of her sisters. The girls cry out, tears streaming down their cheeks. 

Give her to me. It is the only way.

[snowbellewells]

@booksteaandtoomuchtv Ooh, I have been anxious and excited to come back to this story and see what was happening, to find out if Emma escaped Pan’s clutches and if Killian would hopefully find her before the Lost Ones did. I had to force myself to read slowly and not gobble this all down as fast as I could like an irresistible treat!!

I really like how the first section has the wavery, uncertain quality of a dream to it. Just as Emma is somewhat lost in her dream/nightmare, it feels like we are floating along with her, and it is really effective at sweeping us up in her emotions and an making her feel the unease and fear that she does. And then that voice tells her she is safe, that she is alright. I love that section - it’s absolutely my favorite part of the chapter: “The softly accented voice reached through her dreams again, wrapping around her as warm and comforting as a well-loved blanket. Emma yearned to snuggle into the melody of that low voice. In that strange way of dreams, she suddenly felt certain that the voice could protect her from the painful reality that waited to greet her upon waking. If she could just melt into it, maybe it would prevent her from losing that feeling she’d spent a lifetime chasing.”

I also loved how she charged up onto the deck when she woke, ready to defend herself with just his letter opener and whatever bravado she could gather about herself. Killian is clearly impressed and affected too, and I adored his wanting to teach her any way to fight and defend herself that she’d wish to learn. Not to mention how he catches her to him to keep her from hurting him, but how he also is keeping her safe too. I just can’t wait to see what is building between these two and what will happen next!!

Burn The Ships (3/?)

A HUGE THANK YOU TO @snowbellewells FOR THIS INCREDIBLE ART. I wish I knew how to best express how amazing it feels to have someone make art for something I wrote. It is just the best feeling in the world. <3

THIS IS/WILL BE MATURE.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | ???

Tagging: @anmylica, @deckerstarblanche, @elfiola, @goforlaunchcee, @jrob64, @kmomof4, @pirateswhore, @stahlop, @teamhook, @tiganasummertree, @undercaffinatednightmare, @xarandomdreamx, @zaharadessert (let me know if you want to be added or dropped)

Exhaustion did not lovingly pull Emma into a peaceful oblivion where she could rest and forget. Rather, it dragged her into a brutal storm - the howling winds tore at her, the thunder rumbled threateningly deep in her bones, and emotions best forgotten rained down on her. She was alone, abandoned on the edge of a forest. The cold rain seeped into her bones, having already soaked through her clothing, as she stumbled forward toward… nothing. She had no place to call home. 

In the way of dreams, Emma blinked and was on a beach. Her body ached as if she’d been walking for days. She wasn’t sure where she was going but walked on as waves pummelled the shoreline. It seemed she wasn’t alone, apparently, the storm would accompany her through these strange dreams. 

She turned toward the turbulent waters and her next step landed on a wooden board. Her stomach plummeted as the ship was thrown from the rolling sea. Emma desperately reached out, trying to find something to keep her on the deck as the ship leaned dangerously into the water. The boards were too wet, the sea too hungry for new souls… Emma was being sucked under the water, lungs screaming for air. 

I’ve got you. 

Cool, crisp air filled her lungs. She was back on the deck of a ship, once more. The angry onslaught of violent waves had given way to playful swells that lapped gently against the hull. No other soul was aboard the ship, but Emma felt contented rather than alone. A word, a feeling, that had never carried meaning to her wrapped itself around her heart followed by a consuming fear - panic - it would be taken away.

You’re safe, love.

The softly accented voice reached through her dreams again, wrapping around her as warm and comforting as a well-loved blanket. Emma yearned to snuggle into the melody of that low voice. In that strange way of dreams, she suddenly felt certain that the voice could protect her from the painful reality that waited to greet her upon waking. If she could just melt into it, maybe it would prevent her from losing that feeling she’d spent a lifetime chasing. 

Rest now.

And, at long last, with that voice and that feeling wrapped around her heart, Emma rested. §§§§    §§§§    §§§§    §§§§

The white wolf had been stunning, her fur seemed to shimmer with its own light source. But the woman who stormed out of his cabin the next morning was a sight to behold. 

With her blonde waves flowing behind her and her emerald eyes wild, this wild woman charged onto the deck armed with only his letter opener and a lot of swagger. She acted as though she were a rival captain set on commandeering his ship rather than a damsel recently rescued from Pan’s clutches. She had taken the liberty of procuring clothing from his wardrobe before launching her assault, the deep plunging necklines of his shirts and the way his soft leather trousers wrapped around her curves distracting him long enough for her to strike out with her borrowed weapon. 

Killian captured her wrist and forced her to release the letter opener in a quick motion. He’d offer to teach her how to properly wield any weapon of her choosing once they were better acquainted. Perhaps sometime after he was certain that he wasn’t in danger of finding the weapon buried somewhere in his flesh. 

 Sighing at her newest attempts to claw at his leather coat, he pulled her closer.

“I’m not your enemy,” he murmured to her as he wrapped his arms around her, pinning her arms to her side to prevent her from continuing her attack. He tried to focus on calming her and gaining control of the situation rather than the way she felt in his arms and the way her scent stirred something deep within him.

“You’re safe, love,” he soothed. The woman stilled. 

Her frantic breathing slowed and the tension slipped from her limbs. The ocean lapping on the hull and their breathing were the only sounds for a few moments. It could have been romantic…if the situation were entirely different. 

“If you promise to behave, I will let you go.”  

She stared at him with frustration burning brightly behind her eyes. Her wildness and defiance stoked a desire in him - and his wolf - that he was becoming more difficult to ignore with every minute he spent in her presence. 

After a moment, during which she held his gaze with hers as if trying to determine the trick in his offer, she nodded in agreement with his terms. He reluctantly released her. 

The loss of contact left him desperate for any excuse to hold her again. He suppressed the whine his wolf let loose with a clearing of his throat. Then, with a bit of a flourish, he introduced himself to her. 

“I am Captain Killian Jones and you’re aboard the Jolly Roger. You are welcome on my ship for as long as you wish.” 

“HOOK?! You’re Captain Hook?” She wasn’t afraid of him, which seemed promising. Doesn’t mean she will love someone like you. Killian shoved away the taunting voice of his father and smiled at her as if she had said something particularly flattering. 

“Ah, so you have heard of me.”

She looked at him flatly, clearly not impressed with his antics. “Is this ship enchanted?” The abrupt question was a bit unexpected. Of course, the Jolly Roger was enchanted - to keep a course he set, to alert him of guests aboard his ship, to hide treasures from unwelcome eyes - but the enchantments were subtle and not something that should be so easily detected. 

He cocked an eyebrow to conceal his surprise. “I’m not giving secrets away to a lass who hasn’t given me her name.”

“Oh, so it is enchanted.” She looked around as if the spell work would reveal itself to her. She took a few deep breaths, frowned a bit, breathed in again, and turned back to look at him. “Emma Swan.” 

“Why are you sniffing my ship,” he hesitated before deciding with certainty, “Swan?” He smiled, the name fit her perfectly - and felt so right leaving his lips.

“Better question. Why would you use magic to make it smell so… incredible?” 

Killian scratched a spot behind his ear. What was the correct way to tell someone who woke up on a strange ship and wasn’t sure if you were another threat in the never-ending nightmare of Neverland or a possible ally that the scent they thought was part of a strange enchantment was a sign that they were in the presence of their mate? It seemed a lot to ask of anyone without adding that she had been Pan’s prisoner for some length of time before becoming the target of the most recent hunt. 

“The incredible smell of salt and fish?” Smee grumbled. A few of the crew laughed. Emma looked thoroughly confused. Killian wasn’t sure if her confusion was at his comment or at the sudden realisation that they had an audience for this little episode. 

Seeing as he’d completely forgotten his men still on the deck, he figured it was likely a bit of both. He did not want an audience for whatever was to follow.

“That’s enough from you, Mr Smee. There is a deck that needs to be swabbed.” Hook growled out. Grumbling, Smee stomped down the stairs to the main deck. The other crewmen fell into their own tasks and responsibilities understanding the example being made of the first mate. 

Emma watched all of this with a small frown on her face.

Once they were alone on the quarterdeck, she focused her piercing emerald gaze at Killian. “Do you think he really doesn’t smell that…?” 

Killian shook his head and answered softly, gently, “No, love, I don’t believe he smells anything but the sea.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, “But…you, you smell it?” The words sounded as though she were begging him to confirm that she hadn’t taken leave of all of her senses. 

“Aye.” He confirmed with a small smile. 

Her eyes widened, panic flashing momentarily before several other emotions followed in quick succession. “Oh.”

Killian winced. “Aye.”

[laianely]

Birthday gift

It’s already the 15th for me) So this is a gift with our beloved in their happiness – for you and for me on my Birthday 🎉

I feel a little weird with tagging on this like I demand congratulations 😅 But it’s still CS edit) Feel free to ignore the reason)))

Tag people who may be interested: @killianxswan @teamhook @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @caught-in-the-filter @tiganasummertree @stahlords @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @zaharadessert @bluewildcatfanatic @once-upon-a-happy-end @ultraluckycatnd @qualitycoffeethings

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

At the Dawn There is Rejoicing--a birthday gift for @kmomof4 (Chapter 1)

Summary:  Birthday gift for Krystal, @kmomof4. Based on the story of Leslie Moore and Owen Ford in the book Anne’s House of Dreams–the 5th book in the Anne of Green Gables series.  Emma Gold has led a difficult life.  Her brother and her father died when she was a child, and she was then coerced into marrying the odious Neal Gold.  She thought she’d been granted a reprieve when he was believed to be lost at sea–only for him to return disabled and in need of a caregiver.  Killian is a newspaper reporter who is tired of his routine life.  When he falls ill, his editor forces him to take a sabbatical.  What will happen when Emma takes Killian in as a border for the summer? Big thank you to @snowbellewells for making the cover pic set!

Word Count: 2445y

Other Chapters: (Prologue) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (Epilogue)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Four Winds Harbor, Prince Edward Island, Canada, 1890

Emma Gold shut the door quietly but firmly before taking the harbor road toward the small, seaside village she’d called home all her life.  She let out a long breath, rolling her head from side to side, trying to work out the tension of the day.

And what a trying day it had been!  Neal had been absolutely impossible today.  Some days her husband was calm, affectionate, sometimes even helpful, as much as he could be anyway.

This was not one of those days.  

Today, he’d vexed her from the moment he woke up until the moment he went back to bed.  Her one consolation was that Neal slept like the dead, not moving from the time his head hit the pillow until the rays of the morning sun woke him.

It was a lovely evening for a walk, the twilight painting the sky with beautiful pinks and oranges and yellows, the temperature ideal for an evening stroll.  If her life were different, she’d likely have enjoyed every moment of it–the temperate sea breeze, the faint call of the seagulls, the distant crash of the ocean against the shore.

But her life wasn’t different.  It was an endless cascade of drudgery ever since the day she’d turned twelve.

She remembered that day like it was yesterday, knew she’d never forget it.  It had been a lovely summer day.  She and her eight year old brother, Henry, had been playing out in the barn.  She’d never, to her dying day, forget the moment Henry had stepped through a broken floorboard in the barn loft and fallen to his death.

She might have gotten past the trauma–or at least learned to live with it, if, not six months later, tragedy hadn’t struck again.  Her father, Philip, had never been the same after his only son’s death, and when he’d subsequently fallen ill with pneumonia, there was no fight in him.  He succumbed to the illness within a week of its onset.

And so, all that was left of her once happy, vibrant family was her and her mother Aurora.  Aurora, known for her stunning beauty, but never for her strength and resiliency, had rather fallen apart after the death of both her husband and her son.  Emma, at the tender age of thirteen, had to effectively take on the role of head of the household.

“Those appear to be some rather melancholy thoughts, you’re having, Emma, Dearie,” came a comforting voice to her left. “Difficult day was it?”

Emma turned and smiled despite herself at the woman who’d joined her.  Granny Lucas, though four decades her senior, if she was a day, was quite possibly Emma’s best friend in the world.  Granny had stood beside her through thick and thin, always ready with a comforting pat–as well as a run-down of all the gossip in the village, peppered liberally with scathing commentary about anyone she deemed to be in need of it.  (More often than not, it was the men who got the sharp side of her tongue, rather than the fairer sex.  Good woman, though she was, Granny was something of a man hater.)

Emma sighed loudly.  “Indeed,” she said. “Neal seemed to take it as his personal challenge to plague me from morning until night.”

“Just like a man!” Granny scoffed.  “Emma, dearie, would you like me to come by and give you a break tomorrow?  I’m determined to finish knitting my blanket for the expected Hubbard baby–it’s their eighth, you know, and them barely able to care for the seven they already have.  That house of theirs is no bigger than a shoe!--and I can knit just as well at your place as my own.  You’re looking pale and thin.  You need a break.”

Emma smiled at the older woman, but then shook her head.  “Neal is my responsibility, Granny.  You’ve been too kind already.  I’ll muddle through as I’ve always done.”

Down at the shore, the lighthouse came on just as dusk fell, and Granny scowled darkly at the beacon.  “I will never, no never, forgive Captain Nemo for bringing Neal back to you that fateful day all those years ago.  The man should be horsewhipped!”

Emma looked up at the lighthouse, thinking of the kind old man who ran it like clockwork.  After Granny herself, Captain Nemo was probably her greatest friend and ally.  There wasn’t a mean or hurtful bone in his body, and Emma knew he’d have walked over broken glass to spare her from pain if he could, but he also had a sense of honor and duty that was stronger than anything.

She sighed.  “Granny, you know that’s not fair.  When Nemo found him down in Havana, he couldn’t leave him there, as much as I wish he had.”

“Well I’d have left him,” Granny said with a decisive nod, “and I’ll tell you, I wouldn’t have felt one pang of conscience for it.  That man deserved what he got!”

Emma couldn’t exactly disagree with the older woman there.  Neal Gold had been the bane of her existence since she was little more than a girl.

She’d met him when she was sixteen–he was twenty-four at the time, and had been away from the harbor for many years–and she’d despised him from the start.  He was handsome enough, she supposed, but he was arrogant, something of a womanizer, utterly full of himself, and had a mean streak a mile wide.

To her chagrin, he’d taken a fancy to her from the moment they first met, and he’d immediately made his interest known.  The first time he’d proposed marriage, she’d gently turned him down.  The second, she’d refused more firmly.  The third time, she let her fist do the talking.

If she’d believed Neal got the hint after that, she was sorely mistaken, for Neal had a secret weapon, and he was more than willing to use it.  Emma and her mother lived on land that was owned by Robert Gold, Neal’s father, and the day after Emma’s third refusal, Mr. Gold had shown up at the house they rented from him and threatened to evict them if she didn’t agree to become Neal’s wife.

Everything in Emma screamed at her to refuse, but her mother had simply fallen apart at the thought of being turned out of her home.

“After everything that’s happened to us, Emma!” Aurora had wailed.  “I can’t lose our home too.  I can’t!”

And so it was with a heavy heart that she’d agreed to the marriage.

Emma found marriage to Neal every bit as noxious as she’d anticipated, and when her mother passed away suddenly, only two weeks into her horrible marriage, she felt as though she didn’t have an ally left in the world–save for Granny and Captain Nemo, of course. Some days, Emma woke next to her snoring, detested husband, and thought the hopelessness of her situation would swallow her whole.

And so, when Neal got bored of staid, married life no more than a month after their nuptials and declared his intention to seek treasure and adventure on the high seas, Emma had breathed an unqualified sigh of relief.  She’d be left alone to tend to their farm and make ends meet to the best of her abilities, but she’d be free of Neal.

He vowed to come home in six months, and Emma circled the date on the calendar with a heavy, black pen.  A little dramatic, maybe, but she felt like that date spelled her doom.

But the date came and went with no Neal. ��

Six months passed, seven, eight, and still he didn’t appear.  The good folks of the harbor began to worry that something had happened to his ship.  When the year mark was passed and still no sight nor word of him, they gave him up for dead.

Emma breathed a sigh of relief–and then immediately hated herself for it.  What kind of horrible wife was glad it looked like her husband was dead? 

Granny had no such qualms.  “Good riddance!” she averred firmly.  “Someone needed to take the trash out.  It looks like the sea managed to complete the task.”

“Now, now, Granny,” Captain Nemo said good naturedly, “I’m surprised at you!  Such an unChristian thing to say.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t feel exactly the same, Nemo,” she said, piercing that jolly sailor with a withering glance above her spectacles.  “Neal Gold was no good.  You know it. I know it. We all know it.  Our Emma is well rid of him.”

But the ill-luck that had plagued Emma ever since her twelfth birthday was not done with her yet.  Two months later, Captain Nemo had set sail once more with his crew–being at that time still an active sailor and not yet the keeper of the lighthouse.  It was when he made port in Havana that he learned the awful truth.

Neal was still very much alive.  

Several months past, he’d been ambushed on his way to his ship and beaten badly.  He’d been taken to a dockside inn, where the proprietors had nearly given him up for dead, but he’d pulled through–physically at least.  One of the worst blows to his head had evidently induced not only amnesia but brain damage as well.  To wit, he emerged from his life-threatening injuries with the mentality and faculties of a child.

The innkeepers had continued to house and care for him, having no notion of his identity or how to discover it, but from the moment Captain Nemo set eyes on him, it was clear.  The man before him had changed–he’d gained weight and he had a scar on his face that wasn’t there before–but it was unmistakably Neal Gold.

For a moment, Nemo had contemplated simply setting sail and pretending he’d never learned the truth, but Captain Nemo was such a fundamentally honest and upright man, determined to do his duty no matter how detestable, that in the end he brought the man-child home with him.

Emma took the news as stoically as she could, knowing there was nothing for her but to accept her responsibility to care for her husband.  Only once did she bemoan her fate.  On the day Neal returned, she’d looked across the table into his vacant eyes and said “I was hoping you were dead - because it would be easier for me to put you behind me, than to face all the pain that we went through all over again.”

That was eleven years ago.  She had cared for him from that very day.  Some days he was reasonably pleasant–even somewhat helpful.  Others, he was a holy terror, reminding her of nothing so much as an overgrown toddler.

Still, life with this Neal was far more palatable than life with the man in his right mind, and so she persisted.

Coming back to the present, Emma sighed.  “You and I both know Captain Nemo would do anything he could to help me, but we also know he couldn’t turn from doing the right thing, even if it was hard.”

Granny merely harumphed, and for a moment, they walked on in silence.

“Well, as I live and breathe,” a delighted voice came from beside Granny, “if it isn’t Granny Lucas, looking lovely as ever.”

“Well as I live and breathe,” she retorted with an eyeroll, “if it isn’t Marco Gepetto looking as much like an overgrown wooly mammoth as ever.”

Emma smiled in spite of herself.  Marco was, indeed, an odd looking personage with his beard and hair both falling in tangled curls to his waist.  Apparently his state of hariness had something to do with politics, but Granny Lucas never missed an opportunity to tell him, in no uncertain terms, how utterly ridiculous he was.  Marco, for his part, gave as good as he got.

If Emma didn’t know better, she’d swear it was their preferred method of flirting.

As the older couple began bickering in earnest–and apparently enjoying every moment of it–Emma excused herself and walked on.  She did, in fact, have a few errands to run before the sun fully set and the stores closed, and if she waited for her companions to finish their “conversation”, she might be standing here all night.

Emma walked on in silence, her melancholy thoughts returning once more, and she’d nearly reached the store when she heard the sound of a horse and buggy approaching.  She looked up in curiosity.  Few people drove into town, everyone living within walking distance.

The carriage contained a young couple–a woman with long, curly black hair and sparkling green eyes.  A blond man with blue eyes.  Both looked at each other as though there was no one else on earth.  Their love was nearly a tangible thing.

This must be the new doctor–David Nolan, wasn’t it?--and his bride.

The woman noticed her then, standing on the road, and she raised a hand in greeting, apparently eager to make her acquaintance.  Emma turned her head and rushed away as an overwhelming wave of bitterness washed over her.

Talk in the town was that the new doctor and his bride had married that very day and then, in lieu of a honeymoon, had set out for their new home–the little house on the harbor which would make them Emma’s nearest neighbors.  Emma knew she shouldn’t begrudge the newlyweds their happiness, but sometimes the pain overwhelmed her.

That kind of happiness would never be hers.  Tomorrow she’d likely feel bad for her lack of neighborliness toward the newest citizens of her town, but for right now…for right now, she just wanted to wallow.

Notes: I did warn you there would be a good deal of pain on the front end of this story, didn’t I?  I took (and will continue to take) a fair amount of liberties with OUAT character relationships for my story.  The goal was to cast OUAT characters that I felt best matched the personality and story of the Anne’s House of Dreams characters.

For those who have read Anne’s House of Dreams, you’ll probably recognize that Mary Margaret and David  are Anne and Gilbert, Granny is Miss Cornelia Bryant, Nemo is Captain Jim, Marco is Marshall Elliot, and of course Emma and Neal are Leslie and Dick Moore.  (If I ever slip up and call Neal Dick….it’s probably due to the character’s name in the book, although the insult is also warranted.)

Up Next: Emma meets Mary Margaret.  Meanwhile in Montreal, Killian is rather burnt out at his job as a newspaper reporter in Montreal.  His boss suggests he take a vacation.

NEXT CHAPTER->

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: “Start of the Dance”

Okay, I realize I just posted this yesterday for Self Promo Sunday, but at the ever-persuasive @kmomof4​‘s urging the gifted and generous @motherkatereloyshipper​ so kindly created a cover art the the vision I had for Emma and Killian’s attire in the story could be fulfilled. I can’t see enough how much I love this - and I wanted all of your to be able to see it too. So, I’m reposting (despite it being Monday now) to share the new and improved dreamy cover art!!! <3  Thank you so much again @motherkatereloyshipper​ !!!

This week’s little Captain Swan fic takes place post-Season 3 finale, but parts of it had been in my mind ever since David’s dream sequence at the beginning of "The Tower" episode. I just had to find a way to fit the vision I had into a whole story framework. I love looking back at this time period in the show, and this was when my mind was really going wild with all the missing moments/canon divergent fic ideas for the first time - between seasons three and four. This didn’t actually happen, obviously, but it could fit in there after the season four finale without changing anything canon up to that point.

(There’s a good bit of David/Charming in this one as well, because I love Daddy!Charming getting to do father-daughter things with Emma that they missed out on, and that sorta started the ball rolling on this one to begin with. ;)

Summary: Emma enjoys one of the good moments with her father before turning to the one she will have by her side from now on... (Post S3 finale, lots of fluffy goodness)

Also available on AO3 and ff.net, if either of those are your preference...

"Emma, it's okay. Don't get frustrated," David's gentle chiding, his light, guiding hand at her waist, and the humored light in his paternally adoring eyes put Emma Swan somewhere between wanting to laugh along with him at her own expense or growl at him in frustration. "Don't be so hard on yourself," he continued. "You're doing fine."

Emma squared her shoulders once more and blew out a breath, concentrating and preparing to start over again. It was all she could do not to roll her eyes and call him out on his blatant lie. She was not catching onto this easily at all – didn't know how many times she had already stepped on her dad's feet, kicked him in the shins, or gotten their legs tangled together and almost pulled him down with her. She might be a princess by birthright, but attempting a traditional dance for her first ball (of sorts) was proving that royal graces had not been born into her naturally.

She put her hands back out, rested them lightly where her father had showed her and tried to relax into the starting hold position, to let herself be led. At that, David's eyes took on a sort of lost, misty quality, and Emma pulled back, concerned, studying his expression. "What's wrong?" she asked.

The prince shook his head and blinked rapidly, as if clearing the dismal thoughts from his consciousness. He didn't quite seem able to meet her clear-eyed gaze, and when he did, the sadness and guilt within his gentle eyes caught Emma off guard. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "Lost track of where I was for a second…forget it…"

She wasn't buying that excuse for a minute, so when he glanced away, trying through a choked-sounding voice to begin counting time and leading her through the box step once more, she resisted and didn't budge. "Oh no," she said firmly, staring at him until he met her gaze, "out with it."

Her father's shoulders slumped, and his hand took hers, leading her over to the couch, which they had pushed out against the wall, clearing space in the living room of he, Snow, and baby Neal's loft apartment for their dance lesson. When they were seated next to each other, he squeezed her hand gently before releasing it and then running his own over his face and beginning to speak hesitantly. "Sometimes I just can't help mourning how much time with you we lost, Emma. At moments like this, my vision of how our lives would have been if you were always with us physically hurts. You went through so much pain. I put you in that wardrobe to save you…but in doing so, I sent my baby girl away to face a world alone. I failed you… Teaching you to dance now seems so ridiculously little to do in return…"

He trailed off, refusing to break down, but not able to keep speaking either. It went without saying that letting someone else lead and relinquishing control – which would make dancing so much easier for her – was difficult because of the life she'd had to live. Still that knowledge was there in the following silence, and they both knew it. That it was even harder for her to trust, to open herself, in relationships and in love was even clearer and more troublesome.

What Emma did offer at length, breaking the pained quiet between them with the best comfort she could give, seemed to bring a shaky smile back to his face. She grabbed his hand again, lacing their fingers together impulsively and holding on tight. There was steely strength in her eyes, but vulnerability too, allowing him to see a grown child's tentative hope. "What's done is done," she whispered hoarsely, holding his gaze with determination. "And I'm done dwelling on the past and being angry. I understand now the kind of impossible dilemma you were facing…and about loving your child enough to give a best chance. Henry taught me that." She swallowed convulsively and buried her face in the crook of his neck for a moment, then offered him a tremulous smile, trying for playful when she continued. "Besides, Dad, what did you tell me about living the moments? This is a good moment here. Despite my complete lack of skill, we're getting back one of those times we lost."

David nodded, hugging her with a hand cradling the back of her head in that way he had which made her feel like the cherished and protected child she should have been. "You're absolutely right," he agreed. Brushing a quick peck to her forehead, he stood and pulled Emma to her feet after him. "So what do you say, Daughter? Want to give this another try?"

She nodded with an almost shy grin. "I'm definitely not ready to dance in public yet, so we'd better keep at it."

Both of them were laughing as they began to move together once more, slowly but surely finding their way, both in the stately, measured steps of the waltz, and as father and daughter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night of their Storybrooke Ball was as gorgeous as any enchanted tale could have spun. Though they were still in a small town in Maine in the modern age, having now been there, Emma could honestly say that the combined efforts of Snow, Ruby, Belle, and Blue had rendered the simple town park and pavilion into what looked for all intents and purposes just like the grounds of some fairytale palace. The wooden planks of the stage for outdoor concerts were freshly painted a pristine white and surrounded all along the sides, up the support columns and across the ceiling by strings of white twinkle lights and trailing ivy. Handmade luminaries lined all the walks with a welcoming glow. Ruby had even cajoled Viktor into producing a dj booth he'd acquired from somewhere and spinning music for the town's celebration.

Rumplestiltskin and Belle had married nearly alone in the woods, but when the others had learned of their news, the townspeople had wanted to at least have a reception. It seemed there was much to celebrate – not only the wedding, but the Wicked Witch's defeat, the young prince's birth, and in general, the town's survival of yet another catastrophe. These folks were, after all, from a magical kingdom which knew how to lavishly make merry and enjoyed traditional pomp and circumstance. The seemingly reformed Dark One and his beloved had graciously accepted their congratulations and recognition without too much argument, and Emma couldn't help being somewhat softened toward Henry's other grandpa as she watched him swaying gently with Belle in his arms on the dance floor, their foreheads touching, with eyes only for each other. Though she wasn't sure she would ever completely understand how, Emma was glad that Belle could see the good in her "beast", and that the other woman could encourage a dangerous and bitter man to find the true and honorable heart beneath his dark façade. She knew, deep down, that there were surely people in the town who thought she and Belle had much in common, who were unable to see what she had found in a vengeful, broken pirate either.

Her thought of Killian Jones caused her to look away from the happy couple opening the festivities with their dance and scan the gathered faces for her Captain. Just the thought of him as "hers" warmed her insides and caused the corners of her mouth to quirk up in a tiny, satisfied smile. She didn't see him anywhere and a small bit of worry touched her brow. Obviously, it wasn't easy for him to see his "Crocodile" so happy, the truce the two of them had managed notwithstanding, nor did she expect him to desire to toast the Dark One's good fortune, but she had hoped he would focus on the aspect of town revelry and her parents' joy at her younger sibling's arrival. She knew that David and Snow had personally made him welcome, and she herself had teased him with the opportunity to see her in regal finery for only the second time ever. There was no way she could slip off unnoticed just yet, so for the moment she could only hope he wasn't somewhere drowning old wounds with rum in stalwart silence – at least until she could go find him. He had certainly come after her and pulled her from grief and self-pity often enough… Still, this night was supposed to be for happiness and the future, things she had in large part due to his efforts. Killian deserved to be part of it.

She hadn't realized that the first dance had ended, a new song had begun, and that other couples were taking to the open floor, until her father appeared at her elbow. "May I have this dance?" he asked formally, a playful twinkle in his eye as he extended his arm.

Emma flushed, knowing that the moment had come, but also that they had a rather large audience and that over David's shoulder, her mother was watching them with tears in her eyes and a camera at the ready. She nodded, nerves evident, but took his offered arm tightly and let him lead the way, just as they had practiced.

Surprisingly, Emma found the rhythm more easily than she sometimes had in the past; her father's hand reassuringly steady at her back. The look on his face was priceless: loving, proud, and happy as they circled the floor, as agile as any of the other misplaced fairy tale dancers around them. "I knew you could do it, Emma," he complimented her, the praising father who would recognize her talents and efforts clear in his voice – just as she had always wished for years ago. "You've mastered anything I have ever seen you put your mind to."

She couldn't help the single tear that escaped her eye and slipped down her cheek, but she shook her head slightly when concern crossed David's features. "No, don't worry," she managed. "I'm just happy – really, actually, happy." She let herself enjoy the moment, even leaning her head on his shoulder before whispering, "This is how it would have always been, isn't it?"

He nodded against the top of her head, and Emma felt her father swallow hard with his own emotion before he responded. "It is. I can't bring back what vanished in between, but…I can promise you that this is how it will be from now on."

She nodded, and they danced on in silence, the moment peaceful between them, all the words needed having already been said. Emma was oblivious to the reverent and intrigued gazes they were drawing – the Crown Prince and his Princess daughter sharing their first public dance at her first official ball. Charming and Snow's loyal subjects – now more friends – had welcomed and loved their only daughter as if she had always been with them, respecting her as if she had grown up a ruler in their world. This dance only cemented it, even if Emma was unaware.

The music swelled around them, Emma's joy bubbling within her and continuing to edge out the pain of her life before, the hurt she had finally begun to let go. True, she and her family were robbed of so many of the previous moments they should have been able to share, but this one, as her father spun her out once more and twirled her back into his arms, would always be theirs. She glanced up at him, perplexed, however when he pulled away to press a kiss to her forehead, then stepped back to place her hand within the grasp of someone standing behind him whom she hadn't even seen.

When David moved away, Emma found herself face to face with Killian at last. If her heart had not already been near to bursting, her pirate's presence was the final piece to complete her bliss. His leather had been exchanged for a fancier tail coat in deep forest green, a white dress shirt (still dangerously, seductively half-unbuttoned), and tan breeches – and Emma found herself melting at the sight of him. The effort he had obviously put in to blend with the other celebrants and belong was almost as overwhelming as his handsome appearance. She gave him a knowing look, realizing that someone, mostly likely her mother or Henry, must have told him the color of dress she would be wearing so that he could match.

Killian's gaze swept her up as though he intended to devour her in a glance, blue darkening from sky to cobalt at the jewel tone green covered with black lace sumptuously contrasting her fair, flawless skin and golden curls. "You are a bloody marvel, Swan," he murmured, even as he stepped easily into the place her father had relinquished, forming a perfect frame and twirling her effortlessly back into the dance as if he had been waltzing properly at formal balls all his life.

She was practically gaping at him, and she knew it, her breath short with stunned attraction. Sure, they had managed a simple dance to maintain their cover on their adventure in the past, but now they were themselves, he was holding her close, and they were moving as one with certain things having been spoken between them at last. This was altogether different… so much more. Killian chuckled lightly, touching a finger beneath her chin to close her open mouth. "I was not always a pirate, remember, Love? Naval officers do attend palace functions rather often."

Looking up at him mischievously from under lowered lashes, Emma finally regained enough of her composure to banter back. She smirked, speaking softly for his ears alone. "You must have been quite the charmer in your day, Lieutenant Jones," she almost purred.

"Must have been?" he questioned in mock offense. "Oh Lass, you can't fool me. It would seem you still find me quite charming in the here and now."

He dipped his head, breath warm on her face, mouth hovering just over her lips, making Emma's heart beat flutter erratically like a trapped butterfly attempting to escape her chest while he made her wait for his kiss. His grin was so smug that she wanted to wipe it off his face, but instead found herself having all she could do not to trip on her own feet and handle the shivers he sent skittering irresistibly down her spine.

With her True Love beside her, silently promising in every look and every touch to hold her, to match her step for step in every dance, for the rest of their lives, Emma no longer had to doubt that she would find her way. He eased her into a graceful dip, and she mutedly registered slight applause as the dance ended. Killian bowed to her, then pulled her even closer in his embrace as the next song began. She might be just learning to let someone else lead, but the feeling it gave filled her opening heart with hope.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @jrob64 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @apiratewhopines @cosette141 @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @stahlop @elizabeethan @anmylica @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @tomeandflickcorner @scientificapricot @sotangledupinit @xarandomdreamx @wefoundloveunderthelight @gingerpolyglot @gingerchangeling @zaharadessert​ @xsajx​ 

[the-darkdragonfly]

NEW TALE: Fine Line - A Captain Duckling Tale

Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday to @elizabeethan!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy Birthday to YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

🥰🥰🥰 as well, a special thank you to @donteattheappleshook for fixing this fic in time for posting ♥️

♥️♥️♥️

The lantern on the mantle had burned down several inches since it had been lit, her gaze wandering to the window, at the sea spreading out before her, the sails she waited for, yearned desperately for, still missing from the horizon. He wasn’t coming.

The chambermaid had asked her what was the matter, twittering and twitching and rubbing against Emma’s last unfrayed nerve- nothing is the matter, thank you, that will be all- the need to be alone and heartbroken thick in her veins. He was going to miss her birthday. 

It wasn’t as if he would have been able to celebrate properly with her anyway, but for the last three years, his ship has sat in the harbour as he waited for her in the room above the quiet tavern which was as much theirs as her room at the castle was hers. She’d always gone to him. 

But the Jolly was still absent, the errand he had needed to undertake- I’ll be back before you can miss me, love- was taking far longer than she had expected- not possible, Captain, I miss you already- and her heart ached with the grief of knowing what they could never be. 

Her parents worried for her, she could feel it in their gaze, the set of her mothers shoulders and the way her fathers voice would become a forced light thing- you’ll find someone, Emma, they’re out there somewhere- whenever they spoke to her of the future and love and everything she had already found in a man she couldn’t keep. 

That’s very pretty- her mother had touched the necklace at her throat, a delicate chain with a small swan encrusted with diamonds which sat at the base of the neck. A Hogmanay gift from Killian months before, she’d worn it everyday, safely tucked beneath the layers of her winter dresses. But spring had broken into the world, and the small swan glistened in the light of the sun, hidden no longer. 

She’d smiled, a sad secret sort of smile- it was from a friend- and the question which had been poised on the tip of her mother’s tongue, the one of happiness and True Love, died as she watched the slip of sadness overtake her daughter’s eyes. 

He’d slipped the chain over her head, a kiss pressed against the column of her spine before securing the gift around her throat- it reminded me of you, love- her fingers rising to encircle the small pendant, head turning slightly to catch his gaze in the warm light of the fire he had stoked before joining her in bed- a swan?- her question a whisper in the dark. He’d nodded, eyes serious. They mate for life- she traced her fingers down the side of his face, the scratch of his beard rough under her nails. He’d nodded again, the twitch of his jaw telling of anxiety and fear. 

“It’s perfect,” she’d kissed him, pulling him down into the safety of the nest they had built together. 

The necklace sat at her neck over the years, the weight of it a constant presence in her life when he could not be. 

♥️♥️♥️

Read the rest here.

Read my other stuff here.

Tagging:

@elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @sailtoafarawayland @teamhook @wefoundloveunderthelight @caught-in-the-filter @batana54 @ultraluckycatnd @veryverynotgood @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @jrob64 @kmomof4 @artistic-writer @gingerpolyglot @xarandomdreamx @justanother-unluckysoul @zaharadessert @xsjax @karlyfr13s @tiganasummertree @wyntereyez @klynn-stormz @onceratheart18 @rkrbirdgirl @ouatdaily @blowmiakisscolin @courtorderedcake @winterbaby89 @pirateprincessofpizza @superchocovian @deckerstarblanche @jlsadphoenix @alexa-fangirl-forever @stahlop @undercaffinatednightmare @lostintheskyfaraway @anmylica @motherkatereloyshipper @last-tsarina @lfh1226-linda @hookedmom @yikes-00 @midnightsuki @paradiselady19