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opalescentegg · 6 years ago

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‘Princess Tutu’ and the Absent Fish: An Informal Essay

Anyone familiar with Princess Tutu will recognize and appreciate its masterful melding of diverse fairytale and sometimes mythic elements --- may the record show that I’m no different. Nevertheless, there is one particular sequence in Ahiru’s heart-shard-hunting quest that never felt quite right: the heart-shard of Curiosity (alternatively, the Desire for Knowledge). Or, more precisely, it’s the River that always bothered me.

As a one-off magical narrative conceit there’s really nothing wrong with the River having the heart-shard. Thanks to the episode regarding the heart-shard of Affection, it was already established by that point that non-human(oid) entities could become bearers of pieces of the Prince’s heart. So the River as heart-shard-holder was at least consistent within the narrative’s internal logic. What I think I was recognizing through my dissatisfaction with the River, though without even fully comprehending it, was instead a sudden break with what I will term the “chain of motif.” To put it another way: every other heart-shard, up until the final five from the town gates, is connected is some way to a recognizable fairytale motif and/or structure; all except for the heart-shard of Curiosity.

For an illustration of heart-shards and their associated motifs, with the specific elements that identify the motifs (where sources give different translations for the known heart-shard emotions I will provide both), I present the following:

1. Disappointment/Bitterness -- Swan Lake: admittedly, this is mostly in the music and “set design” of the episode which, along with the short-lived (one-sided) dancing rivalry between Anteaterina and Rue, are probably mostly meant to serve as a introducing the central motif of the show. Additional possible foreshadowing of the thematic conflict between Ahiru/Tutu and Rue/Kraehe later on, though this claim is much more tentative.

2. Loneliness -- Hansel and Gretel: a house in the woods, a story revolving around food, fear (though here ultimately unfounded) of being eaten

3. Sorrow/Sadness -- Giselle: taken directly from the ballet, which itself draws from the folklore of willis/vilas that, depending on the tradition, are variously described as ghosts, fairies, nymphs, etc. I’d also like to point out that the design of the willis fulfills the visual requirements of the White Lady of so many European (and Euro-influenced) countries.

4. Affection -- Not a single tale-type, but calls upon a conglomeration of magical light folklore, i.e. will-o’-the-wisps (leading people astray, as the Lamp’s riddles led Ahiru not so much astray, but certainly to where the spirit wanted her), the genie in the (oil) lamp, etc. (I also recall someone once posting about an Andersen tale in which an old street lamp reminisces on all the things it’s seen in its life, much like the Lamp-spirit. However, while a strong argument can certainly be made for this story being the inspiration for the Lamp, it’s a pretty obscure one from HCA’s repertoire, so I believe the strength of the lamp motif comes mostly from the examples I have highlighted.)

5. Fear -- Sleeping Beauty: for obvious reasons. (There are also shades of the Grimms’ “The Story of the Youth Who Went Forth to Learn What Fear Was,” but that’s a real stretch to fully justify, even for me.)

6. Curiosity/Desire for Knowledge -- ??????

7. Devotion -- “The Red Shoes,” Andersen: since the magical black pointe shoes Rue slips into seem to have a similar unsettling degree of autonomy to Andersen’s eponymous footwear. The fact that they cause a transformation that slashes at Rue with thorny vines is also a nearly sadistic inversion (intentional or not, who can say?) of the Anderson story, wherein the sinful girl is at last relieved of her suffering when an angel, carrying a branch blooming with roses, finally grants her mercy and takes her up to Heaven. I can also see possible shades of Pygmalion in Malen’s obsession with drawing Rue, though her fixation may be argued as serving more to highlight the themes of lack of control and destructive self-sacrifice implicit in the HCA tale, which I still see as the overriding motif here.

8. Regret -- Cinderella: the episode musical motif, plus the element of the “ball,” or at least a gathering of multiple people (and crow demons?) in a single location. Charon even plays the part of, first, the “step-parent” who refuses to let his ward attend that event, but eventually transitions into the role “fairy godmother” who furnishes the ward with the physical necessities he needs to go out and do what he wants. (Amusingly, this makes Ahiru either a bait-and-switch/red herring Cinderella, OR makes her and Fakir a kind of composite Cinderella, each one fulfilling different aspects of the motif -- possible foreshadowing for later partnership, courage described as “two hearts as one,” etc.)

9. Love -- The title of the episode introducing this heart-shard is “La Sylphide,” though it doesn’t have much in common with the eponymous ballet. What it does have is the first very recognizable instance of full-on witchcraft in the show, which is undeniably a strong and instantly identifiable fairytale element. The curse Rue places on this shard also positions her as the “false bride,” from such tales where one woman either kills, curses, or brings low and supplants a “true bride” in order to take that woman’s lover for herself.

10. Pride -- The Flying Dutchman: In which a man is punished for his sins usually implied, and sometimes outright stated, to be a slight against God performed in a bout of hubris; and cursed to wander and/or continue their mortal duties without rest for all eternity. Whether they were cursed with immortality or simply exist as spirits unable to enter Heaven or Hell varies between tellings, but the framework is essentially the same. (This is almost certainly a later variant of a story type I would prefer not to call by name, but involves “Wandering”; though since that protagonist is always cursed with immortality and never becomes a spirit, it’s a tale-type that is at best tangentially related to the motif I’ve chosen anyway.)

11. Hope -- Swan Lake; The Little Mermaid; The Ugly Duckling; etc.: for obvious reasons again.

Fairy tales and folklore rely heavily on patterns. In adopting and adapting these stories to craft its own narrative, PT also inherits those formulas. But the heart-shard of Curiosity does not fit the pattern --- in fact, it seems not to have parallels with any recognizable tale pattern at all.

What is particularly strange is the presence in the episode of many of the building blocks of a very famous folklore motif, and one made all the more conspicuous by its absence from the narrative. That is: the motif of the ring in the fish.

As far as age is concerned this motif goes back a long way, along one of two variant branches. One: the ring that is lost, despaired of, and miraculously returned to great joy (and often used as a token of recognition). Two: the ring that is the catalyst, lynchpin, etc. of some undesirable future event, which the owner tries to throw away in an attempt to dodge destiny and which inevitably comes back to him, the ring here being a tangible reminder of the inescapability of fate.

Of these variants the first is by far the most common. Arguably the most internationally famous tales of this variant is that of Solomon’s ring, which provides the basic structure many later tales of the branch: King Solomon’s (magic) signet ring was stolen by a demon and cast into the ocean, whereupon it was swallowed by a fish. Years later, a fisherman caught a fish which was then cooked and served to Solomon, who cut it open to find his ring in its belly. (The ring here also acts as an indisputable identifier of the true Solomon, who had been reduced to a pauper by the aforementioned demon after losing his ring, since the demon could shapeshift and had assumed the king’s form. The retrieval of the ring restored Solomon to his true form, allowed him to vanquish the demon, and retake his rightful place as king. Many ring-in-fish stories conclude with the ring acting as absolute proof of a character’s identity, often in a “recognition” or “reveal” scene.)

In contrast to this story is that of Polycrates and his ring. On the advice (and possibly prophecy) of the king of Egypt, Polycrates the tyrant of Samos is told to cast away that possession which he values post, lest his overabundance of success raise the ire of the gods and cause them strike him down. Polycrates attempted to do so, casting into the sea his prized emerald ring, which caused him much grief. However, not long after a fisherman brought a fish as tribute to the tyrant; when Polycrates had it gutted his ring was found in its belly, proof that he could not escape his disastrous fate (indeed, he was eventually overthrown and assassinated, possibly by being impaled and his corpse then crucified).

The object cast into the water (typically a piece of jewelry) varies depending on a story: a ring, a necklace, a bracelet, and anklet, etc., though I think the particular emphasis on encircling jewelry is an important detail. Sometimes the object is simply a gemstone --- also important in this discussion, given the curiously jewel-like appearance of the heart-shards.

In any case, the basic plot of “[thing] in water - [thing] in fish - capture of fish - [thing] back in hand” (or, even more simplistically: a valuable object lost in water and found later in an unexpected place), is found in sources ranging from Sanskrit dramas to Irish mythology. Even Hans Christian Andersen famously refurbished it in his “Steadfast Tin Soldier.” And speaking of Irish mythology, the Fenian cycle famously includes a tale about culture hero Fionn mac Cumhaill and the Salmon of Knowledge.

(For the uninitiated: A salmon ate nine hazelnuts that fell into the Well of Wisdom, gaining all the world’s knowledge, and the first person to eat of its flesh would likewise gain that knowledge. The poet Finegas/Finn Eces, to whom Fionn was then a servant, caught the fish after many years and told Fionn to cook it while he attended to other matters, but not to eat it. Fionn (surprisingly) followed this directive, until he poked at the fish to check its doneness and burned his finger in the hot fat --- a finger which he immediately stuck into his mouth to soothe, only to thereby ingest the drop of the salmon’s fat and gain the knowledge contained therein. Upon learning of this, Finegas gave Fionn the rest of the fish to eat, and Fionn gained all the world’s knowledge.)

The motif of a fish associated with great knowledge lends itself well as a base element for a hypothetical holder of the heart-shard of Curiosity, especially when combined with that of the ring in the fish/returning ring. The latter motif is essentially part of the episode anyway. After all, there’s a clear instance of jewelry being cast into water --- when Ahiru throws her pendant (an encircling necklace) into the River so that she’ll no longer have to act as Princess Tutu and bring pain to Mytho. While her necklace is never miraculously returned to her, she nevertheless recovers it, and so fulfills the bare-bones conditions of the tale type.

The fact that this outcome was exactly what Drosselmeyer wanted would have paralleled the theme of inescapable fate we find in the story of Polycrates’ ring. In doing so, it would have raised the stakes of one of PT’s central conflicts (do these people even have free will, and if they do can they exercise it successfully to escape tragedy?), making the push and pull that much more dynamic and the tension even more taut. Because the returned ring motif would have (seemingly) implied an early answer: No. The “ring” always returns, and the fate it symbolizes is therefore set in stone. It’s a pattern we’re all familiar with, even if our recognition of it isn’t always conscious. But therein lies the problem. For seemingly no reason, in this episode PT decides to disrupt the pattern.

These are the fairy tale element building blocks we have to work with in the episode:

Water

Something lost (two somethings, in this case: the necklace and the heart-shard; one is lost purposefully in the water, the other by happenstance)

The return of things lost

Later on (continuing into a couple of the following episodes), we are even given:

A recognition scene, brought about by the thing lost in the water

The heart-shard, once recovered and then stolen by Kraehe, leads to Rue’s eventual “recognition” of herself as Kraehe. It keeps asking her who she is and why she wears black feathers, forcing her into a psychological conflict lasting two episodes. Unlike a returned ring the heart-shard is not itself hard proof of her identity, but it nonetheless forces the question of identity to the forefront of Rue’s consciousness from the depths of her denial --- it is the catalyst of revelation, if not its direct agent.

(This isn’t even touching on Ahiru’s pendant becoming the element by which Fakir later identifies her as Princess Tutu, and which was also retrieved from the water.)

But, curiously, no fish to be found anywhere. Very odd, considering that the fish is most often the narrative element that ties all the others together. It’s the device that keeps the plot from stopping dead after the valuable “something” is lost.

The closest we get is, well, Ahiru herself. She is the one who retrieves her necklace from the River, after all. One could say it’s also when she’s at her most fish-like, since it’s one of the few times we see her fully submerged in water. But I find this an unsatisfying answer for the absence of the fish. If nothing else, it lacks the gestative image of a shining ring (or necklace or jewel) sitting quietly in the cold of a piscine belly, generating all sorts of connotations relating to rebirth, fertility, protection, and so on. While not strictly necessary to the function of a returning ring story, the image nevertheless strikes me as wonderfully evocative and symbolic, which may well account for so many returning ring tales coming down to us as ring-in-fish tales.

No aquatic creature of any type is part of the encounter with the heart-shard of Curiosity. (Unless we again count Ahiru, though her being in her mostly-human Tutu aspect --- the one most removed from her aquatic duck form --- strains this interpretation past the point of credulity in my opinion.) Perhaps the most perplexing thing about this heart-shard is how the River itself is what holds it. Not even a personification of the River, i.e. a nereid, nymph, kelpie, undine, rusalka, or a few dozen other types of aquatic folklore creatures. Other aquatic animals were eschewed as well, though if the writers didn’t want to use a fish is would have still been a good opportunity to include a frog, already associated with retrieving golden balls from wells (speaking of valuable round things lost in the water). And as far as I know, there just aren’t that many stories which feature sentient, non-anthropomorphized bodies of water; the element is obscure at best if it exists at all, certainly isn’t part of any recognizable tale types. It does not fit the pattern presented by the other narrative building blocks.

It’s a conundrum I can’t quite parse. If the writers were already including so many of the elements of a common and well-known tale type, why the glaring omission of the element second in importance only to the lost object itself? The truth is, I don’t have any good answers.

I mean, I can still theorize of course. For example, it’s entirely possible that the heart-shard was swallowed and held by an ordinary fish at some point (the show establishes that regular, non-anthropomorphic animals live in the town as well), but then the fish simply died and the heart-shard then reverted to the River. The only problem with this theory is that there is absolutely nothing within the text of the show to support it, and in no way impacts the story we see play out in the show.

And so, what are we left with? There’s a hole in the story structure with nothing to fill it; a fish story that, like all those tall tales that inspired the idiom, never produces a fish. But perhaps that, itself, is the best conclusion we can draw from this incomplete tale; the definition of the colloquial “fish story”: a great big lie. Whether as intentional foreshadowing or just a glitch of human error, by omitting the fish the show writers tipped their hand. If a ring-in-fish story can so conspicuously become just a variety of “fish story,” then the credibility of all the fairytale structures we see in the show must be called into question. If the fish is missing from its own tale type, what else might be missing? If essential elements are missing from certain established story structures, how are those stories still progressing beyond their natural lifespan? If fairytale plots, with all their adherence to patterns and formulas, are the “truth” of this reality, what might it mean when the pattern is so obviously disrupted?

If Drosselmeyer meant to trap a town in a fairytale for all eternity, he overestimated the sturdiness of traditionally oral story structures. The tales they produce are narrative bricolage, held together with the spit and chewing gum of predictable conventions and the skill of the storyteller. Lose one key element, and unless you can convincingly slot another in post haste the entire fabric of the story will unravel in your hands. Drosselmeyer cast his Story’s net wide and strong, but I suspect even that turned out to be subject to degradation and decomposition. Holes were inevitable. This one was just big enough for a single fish to slip through, and with it the first hint about the truth of the Story, carried like a ring in its belly.

#princess tutu #my writing #meta #folklore #the ring in the fish #the returning ring #trust me by my standards this is almost uncomfortably informal #if i had my way i'd use only the most thorough of scholarly texts for this research #and provide footnotes and an annotated bibliography #instead i churned out 3000 words in a wild bout of insomnia with about twenty wikipedia tabs open #scholarship!#(someone please tell me i was still making sense at the end i was getting kinda loopy)

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lifeinahole27 · 7 years ago

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CS ff: “Wait for the Moonrise” (10/10) (au)

Summary: Emma doesn’t remember who she was before she was found in the woods, but she knows that she has a few close friends, a good job, and a loyal cat that greets her every day when she gets home from work. What she doesn’t know, however, is that her past is about to catch up to her in the strangest of ways. She learns quickly that not everything is as it seems, not even her cat.

Rating: E

Content warnings: smutty smut, brief mentions of the loss of a hand

Chapter specific content warnings: some battle-ish stuff at the start, some more happy smut, and hopefully a satisfying ending.

A/N: Just... all my love. I can’t believe it’s over, and this is the last time you’ll be seeing an update for this story. Out of this world, man. All my love to the team of people that helped me through this, and of course to @clockadile for her lovely artwork. And my eternal love to all of you that read, and left comments, and liked and reblogged, and sent me messages. You guys are rockstars. Thank you! x

Catch it on Ao3 or FFN! And catch @clockadile‘s artwork HERE!

Surrounded on all sides by the presence of Dark Ones.

It’s not exactly how Emma would’ve imagined a homecoming, but it’s what she’s getting. Regina is standing steady beside her, holding her arm, but otherwise there’s a fire in her eyes that Emma can’t remember ever seeing in their time as friends.

“You okay?”

“Never better,” the other woman grits out, and there’s an edge that she’s never heard before. Emma raises an eyebrow at her, and the look Regina gives her back is telling more than anything. “Might’ve shaken something loose,” she adds.

When Emma was growing up, stories about her mother’s step-mother were very few and far between. Snow always told the story of how Regina saved her from a runaway horse accident, and how Snow would later betray her on accident by sharing a secret she was never supposed to tell. Emma knew the lore that Snow was framed for Regina’s disappearance when it was thought that Regina killed Snow’s father, and even had to go through high trial for it, but no one could prove anything so the issue was buried and Snow was crowned queen.

Every story about Regina included her fierce tenacity and the strength in her voice, and Emma is seeing all of that right next to her. Her suspicions are further confirmed when the barest hint of a spark emits from Regina’s fingertips. Unlike her own magic, Regina’s is red, reflecting her fiery personality. It’s all extremely fitting to the woman she got to know in Storybrooke.

They both do a visual check of their surroundings. Killian, back to poor Cat, is still trying to pull his leg free from the pile of his clothes. Robin is still mostly unconscious, but he at least winces and curls into a ball, which isn’t the worst sign of life she’s ever seen. They need to wait for the perfect opportunity to strike, but being outnumbered is really putting a damper on any possible plan.

All things considered, Emma figures there are worse ways to die. They’re not going down without a fight, and maybe Killian can run away fast enough. Of course, judging by the way he limps his way over to stand by her feet when he’s finally free, maybe that’s not a possibility. She looks down at him, wishing she could remind him how much she loves him one more time, but turns to face the man that got lost in the power of dark magic, and all the entities that came before him.

She and Regina can at least take out a couple of these guys, maybe at least knock Rumplestiltskin out before succumbing to the dark magic that’s building around them. The electric gathering of their powers actually causes the hair on her body to stand on end, and she’s surprised the hair on her head isn’t following suit.

There’s a moment, a locking of eyes, when they make the decision to strike, and she can tell that she and Regina are on the same page. Emma nods, just barely, and Regina mimics her action, and then Emma’s focusing all her energy and emotions into focal points as she was taught during all her training. They make eye contact one more time and each inhale deeply –

Before they can do it, before they can exhale and blast out their magic, there’s a horn from the north. Less than a heartbeat later, there’s a shell horn blast from the beach they just vacated. The Dark Ones all shift, looking towards each call and looking at each other in disbelief. Rumplestiltskin twitches with each call, his eyes hardening and the smile slipping from his face.

Within moments, the circle of dark entities that had surrounded them starts falling apart. Misthaven fairies burst through the trees, taking out as many as they can with the colorful bursts of their fairy dust. From the opposite side, a force of seafolk with their magic bracelets charge in throwing liquid potions, headed by Ursula herself. They all charge fearlessly, grins on their faces as they attack as they’ve always wanted to. They know their best shot at defeating evil is standing in the clearing and that they have nothing to lose at this point.

“This way!” comes a faint yell, and Emma’s breathing speeds up recognizing Liam’s voice in the distance.

With an elated expression, she turns back to Regina, who seems just as surprised as Emma is. Chaos is erupting around them, the seemingly unbreakable enclosure left with holes and pockets, dark entities trying to run, trying to escape from their fate of returning to nothing but dust. “Now!” Emma urges, knowing they have one shot - one chance to catch Rumple while he’s still thrown off guard.

In the middle of the clearing, Rumple is too distracted by the mayhem that surrounds him to notice that Emma and Regina brace themselves and let their magic loose. Twin blasts hit him at the same time: Emma’s white and Regina’s red wrapping around him in tight spirals. He barely has the time to look upset before he crumples to the ground, drained of his magic and incapacitated.

Around them, the dark entities are also dispatched, the last of which are taken down by fairy dusts, sea potions, and a spill of soldiers that break through into the clearing.

Moments later, the whole area goes quiet but for the heavy breathing of exertion from all involved parties. The centuries of dark ones are nothing but memories, and the last one alive is still knocked out on the ground, bound by magic and officially harmless.

Cat lands on the ground a foot away from Emma’s feet, having clearly taken shelter in a tree when the hubbub started. Robin is pushing himself to his feet, aided by Regina, her magic sweeping over him to heal the wounds he sustained from getting smacked against several trees on the route in.

“Sorry for the swift exit earlier. I needed as much time as I could to rally everyone up.” Ursula steps up to Emma, checking her over for wounds as she whistles for two men to lift the former Dark One from the forest floor. “We will deliver him to your parents immediately. From what I’m to understand, they have a special prison ready for him that will hold him even if his magic comes back.”

She moves away just as quickly to supervise, and it’s only when Cat meows at her again that she realizes that this little problem still needs to be figured out. She lifts him up, whispering reassurances that they’ll fix it as soon as she comes back to the clearing, all the while she finally catches her breath. Rumple is revived and then marched past them, and Cat hisses and swats at the man, making sure to use his blunted paw in an extra attempt to tell the man off as he’s lacking the voice to do so.

“By the way,” Emma starts as she holds out a hand to halt their progress. “The details of your stupid curse landed your maid in a crazy house, so suck on that for a little bit.”

The man looks aghast at this news, and he opens his mouth to object or clarify, but before he can utter a single syllable, Emma snaps his fingers and temporarily snaps his mouth shut. Emma does her best to subdue her own chuckling as she turns away from him. Cat gives her a look of fond approval.

As Ursula walks behind the removal of the prisoner, she clicks her tongue. “I’ll be back in a minute to take care of that,” she says as she nods at Cat. He quietly growls to express his feelings on Ursula’s humor about the situation. Emma pauses her attempts to soothe Cat when she hears a voice she’s not heard in a long time.

“Bloody hell, I don’t believe it.” Liam.

Emma turns, her smile tentative and her eyes shining as she looks at the older Jones. “Hi.”

He marches forward, enveloping her in a strong hug and squishing Cat between them in the process. “God, I always hoped… Emma, good god, you’ve changed so much since I saw you last.” He brackets Emma’s shoulders with his hands, holding her at arm’s length and staring as if he can’t believe his eyes. “I need to see to my men, and we need to get you back to the castle as soon as possible. Are you ready to go?”

“Oh, uh.” She hefts Cat a little bit, unsure of how to even begin to explain why she needs a couple more minutes.

“You’ve got a pet. That’s okay, I’m sure your parents will delight in having a cat to wander the halls and catch mice. Poor lad looks like he’s missing a paw.” Liam reaches out to touch the leg in question, but Cat jerks it away, his ears flattening against his head as he backs away from the older Jones’ hand.

Emma definitely can’t help the snort as Cat burrows against her. “Just – Liam, it’s Killian.”

His face goes dead serious at the mention of his brother, his hand hovering above Cat’s head as the feline glares at it with wide eyes. “Is he here? Where is he?”

She looks down at the cat in her arms, and Cat looks at her before looking back at Liam and giving a defeated sounding meow. Liam tilts his head, looking between Emma and Cat and back again, the puzzle pieces all finally connecting in his mind as obvious by the widening of his eyes.

“Oh. Oh my. Well, we’ll…” He stares at Cat some more. Haltingly, he reaches his hand towards Cat again, but retracts it once more.

“So, how about we break this spell?” Ursula says as she finally returns.

“I don’t have to kiss him as a cat, do I?”

Liam’s laugh borders on hysterical as he observes their interaction, and he makes a weak excuse of having to check on his men again before he wanders away between the trees.

The sea witch chuckles, beckoning Emma to follow her as she stoops to pick up Killian’s clothes and leads her to a patch of privacy. Ursula sets down the clothes, indicating that Emma should put Cat as close to them as possible. She waves her hands, a purple inky magic flowing towards Killian, and she edges away from the clearing before Killian is fully restored.

“Nothing I need to see there,” she comments as she waves over her shoulder. “I’ll be in touch.”

Emma calls out her thanks as she turns back to Killian, who’s just struggling into his boxer briefs. She doesn’t let him get anything else on for the moment, instead launching herself at him. She smiles wide as she kisses him, making it less a kiss and more a pressing of her smile to his as he wraps his arms around her.

“Welcome home, love,” Killian murmurs when he pulls back. “Now, perhaps I can finish getting dressed. Or would you rather I reunite with my brother for the second time in nothing but my smalls?”

“No, no, please. By all means. Better than being in nothing but your fur again,” she comments, scratching under his chin, laughing high and free as Killian swats her on the behind.

As she wanders the clearing, turning in a circle to occupy herself while he slips into his clothes, Emma realizes he’s right; for the first time in three and a half years, she’s home.

-x-

There are too many thoughts going through Killian’s head for him to really keep any of them straight. One: he’s home, back in his homeland, on his own turf, with the woman he loves holding so tight to his hand that he fears she might break it, but he’ll never tell her so. Two: his brother is but a few paces ahead of him, still yet to actually see him as human, still yet to hear his voice since the day he last bumped heads with him. Three: he’s going to see Emma’s parents for the first time since he left their room in a huff like a child. Four: he idly wonders if Snow still has the ring. Five: he also idly wonders if David will rescind his blessings when he sees what Killian has become.

He stumbles over a tree root, and Emma looks back at him curiously, noting the scowl on his face and asking without words if he’s okay. He nods, trying to wipe his expression clean and smile at her at the same time.

Truth is, he’s not okay. This is the culmination of the last three and a half years and he doesn’t know whether he should be smug or scared.

Scared seems to be the emotion his insides settle on, but he layers on the smarm in hopes of saving face when the king and queen throw him out of the throne room as soon as he enters. Out of nerves, he rubs the curve of his hook against the leg of his trousers. While his clothes are still the ones he wore when he left Storybrooke, and he has the satchel of clothes slung over his shoulder, he was able to retrieve his hook and brace from the chest that Ursula fetched for him. Someone already dispatched with the rest of the items, surely throwing them in a prison cell for him to look at as he’s locked up for treason.

Again, Emma reaches for him and squeezes his hand. They’ve reached the castle gates, and he feels half of his heart settle from coming home. The other half is already calm, already recognizing its home next to him, holding his hand.

Liam is gone from sight by the time they enter, and Killian flinches as the full fanfare is blasted out from the horns as they walk through the corridor into the throne room. The castle residents and employees line the rug that runs the center of the room, and the king and queen are each sitting in their respective thrones. Their hands are clasped in the distance between the seats, but neither of them stay that way for long. As soon as they see Emma, their only daughter, truly striding towards them, they’re both up and off their chairs and rushing forward.

Out of habit, Killian immediately puts his arms behind his back after he sets the satchel by his feet. He’s not sure if the habit is more from his upbringing or from hiding his vacant wrist from others, though. He stops, even as Emma continues forward and runs to them. They make the picture of perfect royal family, and he’s sure he’ll only taint it if he goes closer. Regina comes to stand by his shoulder, looking on at the scene in front of them, with Robin standing just behind her.

“How are you holding up, pirate?” When he turns his head and raises an eyebrow, she just shrugs. “Emma told me as much as she could at breakfast that day. You have the posture of one who is skulking, so I figured that’s what you would be preferred to be addressed as.”

“Hook, I go by Hook to my crew.”

Same as Emma, Regina’s lips quirk up and she snorts once, very elegantly, before trying to stifle it. “Captain Hook?”

“Bloody hell,” he whispers, shooting her a look before he turns and stalks away. He figures that there’s enough commotion in the room that no one will notice him missing, in any case. Using his memory as a guide, he finds the small door at the back corner of the room, ducking through and ending up in a narrow servants’ hall. He means to amble his way back out the doors, honestly, because while he loves Emma and wants nothing more than to be with her, he would never make her choose between him and her family.

He’s so lost in his own head that he doesn’t notice someone stepping in front of him until he’s already running into him, and he struggles for a second as the arms come around him. He almost buries his hook into the shoulder he can reach but it all hits him at once. The man is Liam, and he is embracing him so hard that Killian is sure he’ll have bruises around his shoulders.

“You stupid bloody arse,” Liam mutters into his shoulder, and Killian is only aware his brother is crying because he can feel the moisture soaking through the collar of his shirt. “Stupid, stupid, telling us you were dead.” He pulls back, his eyes still wet but his face a mixture of heartache and elation. “Come, we have much to talk about, little brother.”

“Younger brother,” Killian automatically snaps back, his voice the same whine as it was all through his adolescence. It’s clearly what Liam was aiming for, as his bark of laughter echoes down the hallway.

“Come this way,” he instructs, leading Killian back to their wing of the castle. Liam walks him through the door to Killian’s old room, which is still exactly the way he left it minus the new hinges. The surfaces are devoid of dust, the bed is freshly made, and there are flowers in a vase by the very window he left through. He wonders just how many flowers have actually sat in that vase since he left. “There’s a matching bouquet in Emma’s quarters,” Liam says softly, noticing exactly where Killian’s gaze is drawn.

“All this time?”

“Every other week, Queen Snow comes in and replaces them, and sees personally to the maintenance of the room.”

“Are these from the meadow?”

Instead of answering, Liam just nods, a small smile left and much more sadness in his eyes. “The whole field has been preserved with magic specifically so she could tend to your rooms.” He pauses, taking a deep breath before he continues. “Brother, I have missed you. At least when you were running from me I knew you were okay, but when you told that boy to inform us of your death, I spent months in mourning. Until one day, I woke up and decided you weren’t really dead.”

“Should’ve known you’d be too clever to fall for it completely,” Killian comments. He tries to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible, but he focuses on the flowers in front of him, careful to keep his eyes clear and his voice steady.

“I followed your stops. I described you to every innkeep and bar wench I could find. I followed you to the End of the World, but the woman I ran into said she’d never met anyone named Killian. Halfway through our conversation, she got whisked away by the devil himself. I entered every port hoping to find your ship, and you alive on it. And after that interaction with the Dark One’s maid, I mentally prepared myself to bring a body home if you hadn’t been dumped at sea. I lost your trail until I ended up in Midas’ kingdom and ran into a little friend you’d made along the way. A mermaid named Ariel was very difficult to convince to tell me you’d seen her, but when I explained I was your brother, she told me you’d confessed that Captain Hook was Killian Jones. And my search renewed. I don’t think I stopped sailing for weeks.”

It’s so much to take in. His brother had gone to the literal ends of the earth for him, trying to find him, never giving up hope. After their last interaction, he assumed it would be to aim again with that cannon, but no, it turns out he just wanted his brother back home.

“I do want you to recall that you shot a cannon at me,” Killian says, as if reminding Liam of this incident will change anything.

“Aye, but you were being a wanker. I pretty much had to.”

Killian snorts, mentally agreeing with his brother but shrugging his shoulders in response.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for neglecting you for so long as my brother.”

“Accepted. I’m sorry for not telling you about Emma and I sooner. And for stealing your prized ship.”

“I hope you’ve kept all my belongings intact.”

“Everything is stowed in the back of the closets in the captain’s quarters. So, Belle got transported a couple months ago. Why did no one ever manage to find Emma?”

“We kept sending bloody emissaries to the land you were in. I had no idea you were a cat that whole time. You’ll have to regale me with those tales once you’ve had a chance to breathe again.” He pauses, barely restraining the snort that he emits. “Tales of tails,” he muses quietly. At the glare Killian shoots his way, he rushes onward. “And tell me about these interesting clothes you’re wearing, as well. And the hook, of course.”

Killian ignores everything else, skipping straight over the cat joke in favor of the first thing Liam said. “Emissaries? When?”

“Shortly after Ariel told us that Ursula had sent you over. We appealed to the giants for beans to send someone over to fetch you, but he never returned.”

Killian turns from the vase, his eyes focusing in confusion on his brother. “And what happened when he never returned?”

“We appealed to the giants for two more beans, and sent two emissaries. After they never returned either, we could only figure they were being captured, or killed. Something was happening to keep our people from finding you and coming back.”

“The portals, they’ve been enchanted to cause memory loss. The Dark One had it rigged so the moment a person went through it, they’d forget who they were. The curse would build fake memories in layers as the person got acclimated. I only avoided all of that by going through the waterways.”

“Well, it’s good to have you back. Even if you are a little unkempt for my taste,” the older man says appraisingly. Killian huffs out a laugh, running his hand through the much shorter hair and rubs his neck. He’s a far cry from naval regulations, but he’s not sure he can ever grow his hair that long again, feeling himself a lad if he did. “Okay, I’ve taken up quite a bit of time with you. Let’s get you back to the king and queen so they might give you a proper greeting.”

“Oh, Liam, no –“

“No, they insist. I assure you. I believe the queen has something of yours?”

Killian’s eyes go wide.

“Yes, she kept that, too. And still wants it where her ring currently resides.” Liam gives him a significant look at that comment, and tells Killian he’ll be waiting outside while Killian freshens up.

“Liam, wait.” His brother pauses halfway to the door and turns to him. “There’s one more thing we’ll need to discuss when we have the chance.”

“And that is?”

“It turns out we aren’t orphans after all.”

With wide eyes, Liam turns fully to Killian, his jaw working several times before he’s able to get any words out. “Father?”

“Not lost at sea, apparently. He looks very spry and happy, but he had no idea who I was, so he’ll need to have the curse broken from him. The whole town will. They deserve to know who they are.”

There’s a whole line of emotions that flickers across Liam’s face in the deep breaths that follow Killian’s words. There’s turmoil in his eyes, and a sadness that distinctly reminds Killian of the way his mother looked when she was told that Brennan wouldn’t be returning from his latest voyage. Maybe it’s that last one that hurts the most, because it’s a pain she never should’ve had to go through. This is yet another way that the Dark One injured his family, even if he didn’t know it at the time. He’s even happier now, knowing that man will never tear apart another family.

“I agree, brother. We’ll discuss that more in the morning. I know he’s cursed and all, but this is excellent news.” He beams at Killian, nodding again and taking his leave while Killian turns toward his wash basin.

The chest, it turns out, was delivered right to his room, and while he pulls everything out, he only fastens his earring in place, and slides on a couple of the less ornate rings he acquired during his time as a pirate. His hand glides over the various articles made of leather that wait inside, but he only finds the ribbon he stashed in his coat pocket, sliding it through his fingers before slipping it into a pocket of his jeans. Everything else gets left behind as he uses the lavatory and splashes his face with cool water. He damns the length of time it would take him to rim his eyes in kohl, but shrugs at his reflection before going to join Liam for the walk back to the throne room.

Liam, however, turns towards the king and queen’s private quarters, and Killian knows without a doubt that the first place he sees them again will be the place he last saw them. He has to stop himself from laying his hand over his chest, unable to physically restrain his heart from beating right out of its cavity if it so chooses.

-x-

Everything is a bit of a whirlwind as soon as Emma enters the throne room. Seeing her parents, her mom and dad (funny how Storybrooke left more of an impression than she thought) just ahead of her, all she can do is rush to them. And while there’s still a lag in her memories, so that it doesn’t feel like she’s waited three and a half years for this moment, she also recognizes that it wasn’t just yesterday they last embraced. Snow cries, her chin crumpled and quivering as the tears fall from her eyes, and David cradles the back of her head the way he’s done for as long as she can remember.

After getting to witness the happy reunion, the small crowd in the large room disperses to allow the royal family their privacy. Soon, it’s just her parents in front of her. She looks around to see that Killian has slipped away, but Regina and Robin are still there, awkwardly shuffling and casting quick glances at the guards still at their posts.

As if thinking of the other people in the room brings attention to them, she hears Snow gasp as she looks over Emma’s shoulder.

“Regina?”

“Hi… Snow. Queen Snow.” Regina is stiff, but smiling, and she walks forward a few steps toward the woman now older than she was when she disappeared. “This whole royal business suits you.” She waves her hand to indicate the room they’re in and everything it entails.

“You’re not - are you…?” Snow works to gather her words. “You look so young.”

“That’s what happens when you end up in a cursed town where time stands still for a few decades or so.” She shrugs, shuffling forward a couple more steps. “Look, Snow, we don’t have to stay…”

“Nonsense,” Snow says quickly, striding forward to take Regina’s hands. “I think it’ll do us some good to work this all out. We’ll set you up with rooms in the east wing.” Her statements leave no room for argument, and Regina gives a curt nod, but adds a smile to soften it a bit. “While they set up a room for you, why don’t we all go sit and you can tell us a bit about… everything.”

The reunited royal family makes their way to Snow and David’s quarters, with Emma’s arms looped with theirs, and Regina and Robin close behind. Upon entering their sitting room, she almost cries at the familiar scent, and she knows if she doesn’t keep going, doesn’t keep talking and immersing herself back into this world, that she will break down, but there’s no time for that. And it’s nothing her parents need to witness. Tonight, later tonight, when she’s alone with Killian again, she’ll allow herself the time to process all of it. Provided he doesn’t find a way to flee the castle or something.

“You’re so skinny,” Snow murmurs as she observes Emma wandering around the space. “I mean just, so skinny. Did you ever eat while you were gone?”

“I worked as a cop. I spent a lot of time at the gym and the rest of the time eating pizza.” At their blank looks, she shakes her head and smiles. “You guys would like pizza.”

David makes some soft comment about her referring to them as ‘you guys’ and smiles. “Twenty years of etiquette training down the drain,” he mutters with a fond expression on his face, directed at Emma.

She grins at him in response, wandering wider to look at the flowers her mother has displayed. She can sense the magic on them, and recognizes them from the field that should be barren and cold this time of year. Her fingers glide along a perfectly preserved petal as she sighs.

Even as she strolls about the room, she listens to the conversation her parents have with Regina. They both seem to be handling her reappearance better than she expected. But the former regent makes it perfectly clear almost immediately that decades as Regina in Storybrooke have erased much of the anger and malice that went along with being the Evil Queen in Misthaven. She also makes sure to introduce Robin, who hasn’t quite regained his true memories, but small tidbits keep shining through for him.

“I don’t feel as if I’m home yet, but I’m hoping my former memories will return soon,” he explains. He also tells them that it helps that he was actually transplanted into the fake town only weeks before Killian was, all because he tripped into the wrong place at the wrong time.

It’s not long before a maid comes to inform them that their room is ready, and Snow and David bid the other two goodnight with promises to talk more tomorrow, after everyone has had some rest.

And then, Emma is left alone with her parents.

On the morning she disappeared, Emma wondered a lot of things, the first of which was whether or not she’d ever see her family again. She didn’t have much time to organize the rest of her thoughts because she was immediately thrown through a portal and forgot her whole life roughly three steps later.

“So,” Snow breaks the silence, “tell us what you’ve been up to the last couple years. Memory curse, right? We used to have those around here all the time until Regina – the Evil Queen version of her – disappeared.”

“They’re so confusing,” Emma confesses, having spent a few days with alternating realities battling it out in her mind and memories. “How many sets of memories do you guys have if they were so common?”

Snow and David look at each other, before they look away again in thought. Snow holds up her hands to count on her fingers while David stares at the ceiling, squinting, as if picturing each different lifetime.

“We’ll just assume a lot,” David finally says, especially when Snow looks like she’s contemplating taking off a slipper to keep counting.

Still, it helps that her parents have been through something like this before, so she opens up and tells them about how she ended up in the forest, and how she made friends in town quickly. She tells them about her job and her hobbies and all the idiosyncrasies of Storybrooke, spending a great length of time on things like indoor plumbing and electricity. And grilled cheese, she can’t leave out grilled cheese.

Several times, Emma has to remind herself to sit still, instead of sprawling across the chair like she would if she were in the sheriff’s station. As it is, she spends plenty of time explaining the clothing she’s wearing, telling her parents all about jeans and sweaters. She realizes she looks utterly out of place in this world as she’s dressed right now, but they’re more curious than confused or put off about it.

She tells them all about Cat showing up on her doorstep, and about when he first changed back into Killian, and how the last six months they’d done little else but focus on getting her memories back. She decides it’s better not to tell them what they were doing any time they weren’t focusing on their mission, though.

“How did you remember?” David asks. “There’s not much that can break a memory curse like that.”

“True Love’s Kiss,” Emma tells them, as if there was any doubt it could be anything else.

Snow sighs dreamily. “Sounds awfully familiar, if you ask me.”

The equal amounts of surprise and pride in her parents’ eyes is comforting, and well-timed when there’s a knock on the door. The guard on duty opens it, and Emma’s smile brightens as she sees the Jones brothers on the other side. Liam leads, with Killian ducking behind him, both of them with their hands held behind their backs. Killian’s clothes may be modern, but his mannerisms are the same as ever.

It��s an obvious contrast from the ease of his actions in her apartment. Even when she didn’t know who he was, she was used to the cocky swagger he exhibited in those short bursts of time. Reconciling Captain Hook (which she still has to control herself from laughing about) with Lieutenant Jones is still a little like playing with a paper doll, as far as her memories are concerned. The man that stands behind his brother is more lieutenant, but with prominent facial hair and a nervous scowl if she’s reading him correctly.

“It’s good to see you again, Princess. Would you care to take a walk with me?” Liam doesn’t waste any time, and judging by the ambushed look on Killian’s face, he had no idea this was a plan.

“I’d love to, Commodore.” Emma rises from the chair. She goes over to wish her parents a good night, kissing them both on the cheek and accepting their tight embraces before she moves toward the brothers. She immediately forgets any princess decorum as she reaches for Killian, giving him a solid kiss on the lips and pressing her forehead to his as she tries to instill some of her calm onto him. “I’ll meet you in my quarters in half an hour, okay?” He nods in response, giving her a wan smile as she moves away.

Liam smiles at her, giving a bow and holding out his arm for her to take before they leave the room. It’s only once they’re out of the sitting room and the door is shut behind them, and they’re halfway down the hall when one of them speaks again.

“Do you suppose we’ve just fed him to lions?” Liam questions.

“Nah, he’ll be fine. Guy lost a hand and became a cat and somehow managed to steal the Jewel of the Realm from you,” she jibes. “Pretty sure he can handle his future in-laws.”

Liam laughs as loud as she remembers. “Oh, how I have missed you, Princess. But I must correct you. It’s no longer Commodore. I’ve decided to retire and settle a little bit. Maybe find a life outside the navy.” Now that she gets a good look at him, she realizes he’s not in the regulation navy uniform. Gone are the white trousers and ornate coat. Instead, he’s dressed in plain black breeches and a white shirt, looking more informal than she’s ever seen him before.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’ve been told that I was so focused on my career that I seemed to have forgotten about my family. Since I’ve lost a lot of time with my brother, I want to correct that as much as possible. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll also find a family of my own since my dear brother seems to have found one in you.”

“He would’ve shared with you sooner, you know. But he was so worried you’d think he was throwing away his career.”

“I would’ve. I didn’t understand at the time. I didn’t understand until I was afraid you were both gone from my life forever.” He stops for a moment, turning to her and placing his hands on her upper arms. “As tragic as your kidnapping was, Princess, it helped me see that I was missing too much by being out there. I only worked as hard in the beginning because I wanted to pay your parents for the debt of taking us in. They didn’t have to, but they gave us shelter, they took Killian under their wing, they let us be part of all of your lives.”

Emma moves her hands to clasp his arms at the elbows. “It was just as rich of an experience for me. I’m sure my parents feel the same way, and I wouldn’t be here again if it weren’t for Killian.”

“And I don’t think Killian would be here if it weren’t for you,” he responds without hesitation.

They walk all the way to the other end of the castle, meandering back at a leisurely pace in order to give Killian plenty of time to talk with the king and queen, and since Killian hadn’t had much of a chance to tell Liam about his animal adventures, she gives him little bits of information. Mostly she tells him about how she called him Cat, and that his missing paw went a long way into convincing her that he wasn’t some crazy person spouting nonsense about being her pet.

“Speaking of hands,” Liam adds once they’ve almost reached her quarters. “He does seem to be missing one. But that just means you’ll be offering him one of yours now, yes?”

Emma smiles, deciding not to answer even though Liam clearly knows she’ll say yes if Killian asks. “Goodnight, Liam.”

“Goodnight, Princess. By the way, you should know I’ll be on duty as guard for the first half of the night. I want to make sure neither of you go anywhere after we’ve just gotten you back.” He smiles to show he’s joking, but then he purses his lips a little. “But I’ll be way down that end. Just in case.”

Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, her smile growing wider as she understands the implications. “Goodnight, Liam.”

He chuckles, even as he walks away.

Entering her room is an otherworldly experience. The quiet and stillness is almost unbearable after having lived with technology and automobiles for the last three years. But everything in the room is pristine, the bed made to her usual specifications. There’s a large vase of flowers on the table by her chaise lounge, and she recognizes almost immediately that they’re the same flowers her mother displays. She admires them for a moment, but moves on in order to do something that’s more important.

Every window, every door to her private terrace, every conceivable entry into the room is swiftly reinforced with magic of her own making. She would’ve been powerless to almost anything the morning she was taken, but now she can ensure that once she and Killian shut the doors for the evening, no one else will be able to even budge a hinge without blaring alarms sounding in the whole castle.

“Thank you, security systems,” she mutters as she draws all the curtains closed and snaps her fingers to light the candles spread throughout the room. She might miss lightbulbs, but there is a charm to being able to light and extinguish any candle with just a small gesture.

Having been promised their privacy, there are no maids to dress her for the evening. It’s fine, though, because what would they do? Strip off her sweater? Peel the jeans from her skin? No, and while it sounds incredibly appealing to leave that job for Killian, she has other ideas. She uses the basin in her washroom to freshen up, tying her hair into a messy bun after she washes her face and brushes her teeth. Then she wanders into her closet and undresses, leaving her modern clothes on the floor for the time being.

Her fingers run along all the different delicate fabrics in her closet. Even the cotton has a better consistency. She passes by each section of gowns and attire, finding her way to the very back and grinning at what she finds. Black corset, with black skirts.

He’ll either love the throwback, or he’ll run screaming from the room. But either way, she has to. She just has to.

-x-

Bloody hell, this is worse than an overnight siege, Killian decides the second Liam asks if Emma would like to go for a walk. He’s just been handed over to something worse than pirates, in his opinion. He’s been fed to the king and queen, holders of his ultimate fate.

He’s being dramatic and he knows it.

They’re all quiet, and he has no idea if they’re waiting for him to speak first, or if he’s going to have to wait ages for them to deem him worthy of their voices. He doesn’t have to wait long; just as he opens his mouth to say anything, David suddenly stands up.

“You stole one of our ships.”

As soon as the clipped words are out of his mouth, Snow sighs. The exasperated noise is one he’s all too familiar with, especially paired with her quiet words of “Oh, David,” that her husband mostly ignores except for the clenching of his jaw.

Killian swallows, glancing between the two of them and taking note of Snow’s encouraging smile before he responds. “I paid for it.”

“You terrorized the rest of my fleet.”

“Not for very long,” Killian counters. It’s not a lie; he did stop antagonizing the Misthaven Navy after the day Liam shot at him.

“We didn’t make unreasonable demands,” David says, his demeanor cracking with the simplicity of the statement.

“Not unreasonable for you, perhaps.”

“But for you? What was so bad about what we were asking you to do? In this family, we work as a team -”

“Aye, a team. And every suggestion I made was thrown out the window before it could be considered. If you haven’t noticed, your majesty, your daughter is back and darkness has been defeated because I followed the path that called to me. My demands were simple. I wanted to be seen as the man that wanted to marry your daughter. Not just another body that served the crown.”

“I didn’t - we never…” David throws his hands in the air and moves away from his usual perch, pacing around to the back of their chairs and back again. “Okay. I’m sorry we ever let you feel that way. But now you’re back. Will you continue your life of piracy?”

Killian considers this statement. He always thought he would bring Emma home and go on his way, thinking she wouldn’t be capable of loving the man he became. Now that she’s back, and she does love him, it’s hard to say what he’ll do with his life.

“I don’t know,” Killian admits. He pulls his arms around to fiddle with his hook. The fact that neither of them even flinch at the metal attached to the brace at the end of his arm is reassuring. “Your majesty, with all respect, a life of taking orders isn’t something I believe myself to be made for anymore. I’m willing to give up the lawless life under very obvious circumstances, but I don’t see myself stepping back into the war room to be your strategist again.”

David grumbles, crossing his arms and wandering to the window to stare out at the darkened courtyard outside.

Snow, who has largely remained silent during this whole exchange, clears her throat to command his attention. “We don’t want to ask you to do anything that isn’t in your heart, Killian. And you’re right, we often set aside your perspective because we were too wrapped up in our own. Sometimes, sharing a heart gets in the way of listening to others,” she admits. David, sighs, moving to stand behind her chair and placing his hands on her shoulders. “You were always like a son to us. Emma would’ve grown up all alone if it weren’t for you, and getting to see you both mature, and then slowly fall in love, was like watching a fairy tale come to life. You still love her?”

“Aye, more now than ever,” Killian admits with no hesitation. The king and queen have a wordless conversation before Snow focuses back on him.

“What we do want,” Snow continues, “is for you to be part of our lives. Now, I believe I have something to return to you.” She stands, coming forward and reaching into her skirts to retrieve a small pouch.

“I kept it polished for you,” she tells him.

“And I made sure she didn’t polish it too much or else the band would be a half moon at this point,” David adds on. A smile is just barely visible in his eyes, just beneath the never ending affection for his wife.

Snow tumbles the ring into his hand from the upturned pouch, and he marvels at how it gleams. Still, after all these years, it looks like the perfect selection for Emma.

“All other discussions can wait until morning,” Snow reminds him as she closes his fingers around the ring. She reaches up and hugs him, her arms just as familiar as he remembers them. “Welcome home,” she whispers once, before she moves away. She reaches for David’s hand as she passes him, squeezing it once and smiling at him before she bids them both goodnight.

Left alone with David, Killian is unsure what to do. He bows, thinking that the king will leave it there, but David moves around the chair that’s standing between them and stops when he’s a yard away from Killian.

“Because I still need to say it, Killian, thank you for bringing Emma back alive. Talk of piracy and stealing ships aside, there’s no way I could ever repay you for that one act.” Without warning, David moves forward and gives Killian a hug. He slaps the former lieutenant on the back a few times before moving away again. “Goodnight, Killian.”

Feeling lighter than he has in years, Killian walks the familiar path from the king and queen’s quarters to Emma’s rooms. He passes Liam on the way, this time not hesitating to initiate a bear hug with him. Even while growing up, he got all his embraces from the staff or the queen, or Emma who hugged him best of all. He’s lost over three years of the ability to hug his brother, on top of all the years Liam wasn’t around.

For some reason, as he eases towards the door at the end of the hall, that’s when the nerves hit. He’s sure the lead in his stomach won’t allow him to move further, but he manages to push open the door, shaking off a chill of magic when he turns to close it. Clearly, Emma is not joking around with security measures this time. He locks the door out of habit, walking through the antechamber and putting out candles as he goes. He enters her bedroom and closes that door, as well, intent on finding Emma.

His attention is immediately brought to the bouquet of flowers on the table, and Killian realizes it’s where the breakfast tray sat the day Emma went missing. He’s just about to fall down another hole of memories and thankfulness for being back, when Emma clears her throat.

It’s like a startling moment of déjà vu, with Emma spread across the comforter, smile in place. Her hair is all pulled up, leaving the lines of her décolletage exposed. She’s in the corset and skirts from their first night together, her legs crossed just so to hide her privates. He bites his lip against the devilish smile he knows is on his face.

“This all seems a bit familiar,” Killian says as he saunters forward. Years of experience don’t have him as shaky or unsure of what to do next, but he wants to let her lead tonight.

“A few things have changed,” Emma responds, smirk in place, fluttering her eyelashes in a coy manner.

She acts demure, but he knows better. “For the love of all the ships in the realm, please tell me you brought condoms back with you.”

Instead of a response, she shifts off the bed, gliding towards him with the sheer shirts swirling around her legs. At the same time, she waves her hand, and a line of the foil packets appears in her hand. “They were stashed in my coat pocket. Just in case.”

“Always good to be prepared for every eventuality.”

“Just kiss me already,” Emma says, chuckling as she does. She twists a hand into the fabric of his waistcoat and pulls him to her, their lips meeting somewhere in the middle as their arms wrap around each other. He turns his hook so it won’t catch on the delicate materials, but doesn’t hesitate to palm her backside, feeling the warmth of her skin just beneath the fabric.

Piece by piece, she strips the clothes from his body, leaving the brace and his boxer-briefs for last. She’s seen him without his brace before; that’s not what bothers him. But this is her first time seeing it on. As if to reassure him, she draws her hands down his arms, linking one hand with his fingers and grasping his hook with the other.

“I love you, Killian Jones, Captain Hook, thankfully no longer Cat.”

He ducks his head to kiss her, something simple and momentary before he responds. “I can confidently say that I love you, Emma Swan, Princess of Misthaven, Deputy of Storybrooke.”

Her whole face lights up with her smile, her eyes crinkling as she releases hand and hook so she can pluck at the waistband of his underwear. “How about losing these, and loosening my laces?”

“Surely you secured this with magic, Swan. Why delay by asking for help?” She’s in the process of turning away from him, so he takes advantage to wind his arm around her middle and pull her back to him. “In case I forgot to say so, darling, you look divine in this.” He uses the tip of his hook to draw her hair off her neck, enjoying the way her breath stutters as she shifts into his erection. Her whimpering moans when he kisses down the side of her neck are also pleasurable. The sharp cry of his name with at least three expletives following is the real treasure, though, when he bites and soothes with teeth and tongue.

She loses her patience after that, finding the ties to her skirts and practically ripping them off as she moves far enough away for him to access the back of the corset. He doesn’t tease her any longer, instead pulling at the knot and loosening the laces just enough for her to be able to unclasp it without discomfort.

Emma, he’s forgotten, looks stunning in candlelight. But he gets to remember as they come together again and again, until the flames in the room all extinguish on their own and the only light left comes from what’s left of the fire in the hearth. Only then do they settle, their bodies sated, their adrenaline all spent, and no threats looming over them in the near future.

Killian is jostled awake by movement next to him. Apparently, he’s been a little spoiled by Emma’s memory foam mattress back in Storybrooke. Turns out the land without magic does have a few tricks up its sleeve. It's entirely too early to be awake. The sun isn't yet peeking above the horizon, if the back of his eyelids are anything to go by. A dip in the bed this time is what alerts him to Emma’s movements, and he cracks open an eye to watch her climb from the bed.

“Swan,” he grumbles, trying to reach for her as she stands.

“I’ll be right back,” she tells him, bending to retrieve his shirt from the floor.

“It’s too early. Come back, love.”

“I wanna go down and grab us breakfast. No matter how many times everyone kept telling us that we would talk today, I plan on bringing back enough food so we can barricade that door and stay here for at least a day or two.” As she finishes fastening the buttons, she tosses a saucy look over her shoulder. “I wanna make up for some lost time.” She bends to lift his jeans, but Killian practically leaps from the bed to snatch them up.

“Now, Swan, it’s your first day back to your homeland. Don’t you suppose we should at least swing through and say good morning?” He eases the pants from her hands, anxious to keep the pockets upright as he does so. He half-folds them, placing them down on the chaise before he moves forward to pull her close by tugging the tail of the shirt. “Of course, when you look like that, I’m hesitant to let you leave at all.”

“This early? No one will be up. No one in the kitchen. No one snooping around wondering why I have a beautiful set of teeth marks on my neck that I want to leave for just a little longer before I heal them.”

Releasing the fabric, Killian slides his hand down until it rests at the juncture between her thighs. Emma gasps, pressing closer to him as one of his fingers slide inside her. “I’ll let you go, but in just a moment, and only once I’ve watched you fall apart. Deal?” The words are a husky whisper, delivered straight to her ear, and she shivers against him.

“Hell yeah, it’s a deal.” She yanks his head down none too gently to kiss him again, and it doesn’t take long for her voice to rise in pitch and volume, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she clutches on. He suspects that grip and his left arm clamped around her lower back are the only things keeping her upright. He hopes that no one is still keeping guard down the hall, or that Emma placed some sort of sound-proofing on the barrier she put around the room, as the lack of upstairs and downstairs neighbors allows her the freedom to call his name without restraint, her triumphant call of “Yes!” echoing off the stone walls.

“Okay,” Killian says, still catching his own breath as Emma collapses in his arms, “now we can go get breakfast.”

She laughs in response. “Oh, sure. Now that I’m torn between dragging you back to that bed to sleep off that orgasm or cause a couple more.” She half-heartedly smacks his arm and kisses him soundly once again. “Let me get some pants on or something.”

The satchel, it turns out, had been delivered to her room, which he failed to notice when he entered the night before. When Emma wanders from the bedroom to find a fresh change of clothes, Killian scoops his jeans from the chaise and slips them on before digging the ring from the pocket. He’s waited three and a half years for this moment. There’s no time like the present.

When Emma walks back in, Killian is on his knee, his eyes trained on the door so as not to be caught off guard. They smile at each other, even with two yards between them.

As they sneak through the halls towards the kitchen, she’s wearing his shirt and his ring. They leave a note for her parents outside her parents’ quarters, addressed to Snow, with her ring inside. The Queen wisely informs everyone that they’ll postpone the homecoming breakfast until the following morning as she slides the peridot back onto her ring finger.

-x-

“What I’m saying is that the Dark One’s memory curse on the town is wearing off, and these people are freaking out.”

They’re all seated around the large table in the war room, with Ursula in attendance to explain the after-effects of finally dispersing the Darkness. It turns out, Ursula has been keeping tabs on Storybrooke for a long time to make sure nothing was going wrong with the Dark One’s cursed town. But like a sea witch, she’s kept all of her information to herself until now.

It’s been three days since they broke Emma’s memory curse, since they defeated the total darkness that was threatening to destroy more and more families. While they’ve been trying to find some semblance of normalcy since returning to Misthaven, it’s clear that they’re not done with Storybrooke yet, just as the town is not done with them. Emma’s thoughts have wandered to the little home she’s grown fond of more times than she can count, lost in the memories of sidewalks beneath her feet, snow catching on her eyelashes under the fairy lights outside Granny’s diner.

“What do you propose we do, have the merfolk bring them all back here in shifts?” This suggestion from Killian isn’t the worst thing Emma’s ever heard, but it’s not exactly the best solution.

“Some of those people have been there for decades,” Regina comments. “Maybe even longer. We questioned Rumplestiltskin about the town, and he says he’s been using it for at least three hundred years. He got mad at a village for making fun of his name, of all things, so he transported the whole thing to this other land.” She rolls her eyes as she talks, clearly expressing her exasperation with cleaning up after this man.

Robin, having regained his own memories, has been instrumental in helping Regina compile all the data on the fake town that has served as its own prison for centuries. “The curse was so layered that it eventually learned on its own. It’s the strangest thing, but if it were younger, they probably would have all transported back automatically once his magic stopped feeding the spell. As it is, the town has become a source of magic on its own, in a land completely devoid of magical sources. The good thing seems to be that portals won’t strip travelers of their memories anymore. We’ll have to send another emissary to be sure, of course.”

“Because magic beans are so easy to come by?” Emma asks skeptically. Last she heard, it takes an arm and a leg to get ahold of one of those. Mentally, she berates herself, and reaches for Killian’s hook on her right. Thoughts of what he’d look like in a soft flannel shirt, a cozy wool sweater, matching socks, run through her head. She glances at him to catch his eye, smiling when he winks at her, and almost misses what her father is saying.

“Actually, portals might be easier than you think. We made a deal with the giants while we were trying to get to Storybrooke. They’re going to open up a trading post. It took a lot of persuading, but we did them a favor by sharing some magic from the fairies with them, so they can come to land and take part in human spoils whenever they’d like. It looks like we’ve found peace in another area of this world.”

“That’s great,” Ursula mentions, probably because that means her human transportation business will finally dwindle again, but she doesn’t stop there. “But if some of these people have been trapped there for centuries, there’s no way they’ll want to return. Storybrooke is the only home they know. Their families are long gone.”

“Well, we could always establish this town as another sector of Misthaven. I know the town, and all the townspeople. I don’t ever remember actually seeing a mayor, which means the chain of command was probably all part of the curse. They’ll need leadership. What else is a defunct regent going to do with her time?” Regina mutters the part, but in that flippant way she’s so good at. “The politics over there work a little differently, but I’d like to return to Storybrooke and run for their mayor.”

Regina and Snow branch off to discuss the fine details of what would go along with mayorship of a town as an extension of Misthaven. If any two people can figure out a good way to make this all work, it’s those two. Weird to think that her mother and step-grandmother have such a relationship and history, when Emma only knew her as her best friend.

The memory of Regina bumping into her in the hallway and claiming they weren’t besties makes her grin, especially since they went right on solidifying their friendship. Perhaps Rumple never anticipated how close they would become, and how instrumental they would both be in his downfall. The idea of Regina leaving, however, almost makes her sad. She wouldn’t expect things to stay the same after the turmoil they’ve all been through, but how is she to go on living in Misthaven when she feels like she belongs somewhere else?

Between the homecoming celebrations and her own quiet time with Killian, talks about what they’ll do now have been sparse, few between, and almost non-existent. She’s not told Killian about how she stares out the windows sometimes and wishes she could pop over to Granny’s and grab a hot chocolate. She actually misses work. Emma knows she’s going to be met with resistance, but the decision is easy for her. “I want to return, too.”

All conversation ceases around her, with every set of eyes turning to stare at her with varying expressions. Her parents look shell-shocked, Regina looks confused, and Killian just looks… well, like he knows exactly where her mind is. This should come as no surprise since he knows her so well.

“But Emma -”

“But nothing,” she cuts off David. “It’s nothing compared to decades or centuries, but I’ve been there for three years. I love my job, I like my friends. My life is there. If magic beans are readily available, then we can visit any time?” It comes out as a question no matter how hard she tries to make it a statement.

“We can?” Killian says, purely to tease. She hasn’t gotten around to telling him just how much she already misses electricity and grilled cheese sandwiches. The cooks tried for her yesterday, but it just wasn’t the same. The easy smile on his face further tells her he already knows, and the usual look in his eyes says he will follow her to the ends of the earth if she asks.

“We can,” she reasserts, moving her hand to squeeze his forearm when he gives her a nod. “And you could visit us,” Emma states, looking at her parents. David, poor David, looks devastated at the idea of his princess leaving again. They just got her back and she’s already talking about leaving. Snow, however, looks like she’s considering it, and Emma knows if she can get her mother on her side, they can both convince her father that it’s a sound idea.

“The sooner we figure this out, the better,” Ursula reminds them. “There are people in that town that are panicking because they want to get home with their families. We need to either get them back to where they belong without draining my resources, or we need to get them calmed down.”

“How about you take us back with you when you go again? I’ll even help make a spell that will use a little less of your own magic so you can transport us easily.” Regina pushes back from the table, standing and preparing to make her accord.

They seal their agreement with a shake of their hands, rather than a signed contract. The fact that deals can be made without there being a hefty price or threat of punishment on the side is probably the best part of Rumplestiltskin being locked up in a magical cage in their dungeons. Once Regina and Robin have left the room to go pack their belongings, Ursula and the rest of the major council disperses, leaving just the king and queen, Emma, and Killian.

There’s a heavy silence over the table, one that makes her think that even if Snow is considering it, her parents aren’t happy that she plans to leave them again. Plus, it means she’s giving up her rights to the throne if she moves to Storybrooke for good. She even has ideas to pitch on how that should be handled, but that’s a conversation for another day.

“We can have the wedding here,” she blurts out. Killian turns and raises an eyebrow at her, but she barrels on. “We haven’t set a date yet, but we can always plan it to take place here. I would never want to deprive you of another big moment in my life, but I really feel like Storybrooke is just…home. I mean, it’s not home. You guys will always be my home home, but I’m comfortable there. I’m happy there. I like having a job and technology and we can visit any time if this bean thing is really going to work out.”

David gets up from his chair, pacing a few times as Emma talks, and then stopping behind Snow’s seat as she finishes. They both stare at her, shifting their eyes minimally to look at Killian as well. Snow tilts her head back to look at David, and he looks down at her, and they do their married-conversation-without-words bit before they look at her again.

“Okay,” they say in unison.

“Go back with Regina and Robin. It’ll probably help to have a member of the current royal family present while everything gets situated, particularly for those from our kingdom,” David tells her.

“We’ll start planning the wedding. We’ll come visit in a few weeks when the first bean crop is ready for harvest so we can deliver some to you,” Snow says. “And try pizza,” she adds with a wide smile, the word sounding weird coming from her mouth.

It’s hard to think she’ll be leaving them again, but hearing Snow say they’ll come visit soon makes her feel like this is the right decision. This is what she wants. And while she hasn’t really talked to Killian about it, she knows that he enjoyed their time in Storybrooke enough to lament the things he’s also missing.

“Will you send word to Regina to wait for us?” Emma asks as she stands from her chair. Behind her, Killian moves his, and comes to stand beside her.

With a gesture, David draws one of the guards from the doors, relaying the message and sending him on his way. “We’ll be there as soon as we can be,” he tells Emma, accepting the hug she offers and holding her tight. He only releases her when she tells him how much she’ll miss him again, and that she loves him, and then she moves on to Snow.

Her mother is crying, of course, just barely. But Emma knows it’s hard to say goodbye so soon after what they’ve been through. She tells Snow the same thing she said to David, and includes an extra tight squeeze as she tells her how much she’s looking forward to planning the wedding when she sees her again.

A half an hour later, Killian returns to her quarters after packing as much as he wanted from his room. While he had unofficially moved in as soon as they got back, he still had to retrieve the things he most wanted to bring. And tell Liam.

“How’d it go?” Emma asks, not looking up from her own task of putting some of her Storybrooke clothes back into the satchel they brought with them.

“He cried,” Killian says, but she immediately hears the scratchiness in his voice, so she turns her head and raises an eyebrow at him until he looks at her. “Okay, fine, we cried. Happy?”

“Yes, actually.” He was trying to be a smartass, but Emma’s response is genuine. She stops her packing for a second to walk over, not even hesitating as she reaches up to kiss him and wraps her arms around him at the same time. It’s a chaste kiss by the standards they’ve set over the last three days; they have absolutely made up for lost time. But it’s the beginning of their own wordless communication. She doesn’t need to tell him she loves him right this moment (she’ll tell him a thousand times anyway, but it can wait another minute or two). She doesn’t need to thank him, or explain how much this means to her. She knows he would wave off any of those statements if she tried. “I’m just about finished. Any word on how long until the others are leaving?”

“And I quote, there’s not enough time for you two to go at it like rabbits again,” he says, pressing his lips together to ward off the smile that wants to creep up. “End quote.”

“Damn,” she mutters. “Oh well, just means we’ll have to wait until we’re back in my apartment with all those lovely, battery-operated toys.”

“See, now I’m fully on board with going. I had just the slightest hesitation earlier, but you’ve fully won me over with this idea.” She shakes her head, kissing him once before going back to her task.

Killian leaves ahead of her, so Emma has a moment in her room by herself. It feels a lot like a heavy goodbye, even though she knows they’ll be back to visit. Even if the bean trade falls through, Ursula has agreed to help in cases of emergency. The mark for her shell is still on Killian’s arm, so they can call her if they ever need to get back to Misthaven. She turns around the room slowly, smiling at the flowers in the vase, knowing that her mother made the fairies enchant a whole field just so she could go stand someplace where Emma spent so much of her time.

Now, she’s thinking that the same meadow might make a beautiful location for a wedding some day. With that thought in her mind, and a smile on her lips, she walks out, extinguishing all the candles before she closes the door behind her.

-x-

Storybrooke is in calm chaos for weeks. Dealing with who wants to stay and who wants to leave is the trickiest bit. There are many people who, just as Ursula and Regina figured, don’t want to return to a place where their families are long gone. There are others who simply believe they fit better in a modern world than the one they were taken from. Will Scarlet, especially, says he’s a much better man in Storybrooke than he was in Misthaven, or Wonderland, or Oz… or so he claims. He is spending a great deal of time at the library, but Emma has suspicions that it’s because of Belle, and not because of the books.

Most fascinating is watching the connections between the people of the town come out of the woodwork. It turns out that Ruby and Mulan already knew each other, having met as they were on their own adventures, and traveling together for some time. They’d both been attracted to the other, but far too timid or unsure to pursue the idea of really traveling together. What had been a tentative start of a relationship when Emma saw them before the search party set out blossoms into a beautiful partnership.

Graham laughs, his whole body shaking with the action, when he realizes precisely who Emma and Killian are. “You’ve both come a long way from those hand-offs in the hallway. My favorite little tart thieves. No wonder you always felt like my younger sister,” he marvels to Emma. Killian smiles, happy to observe the interaction. He’s been meeting the people Emma has spent her last few years with, and it’s jarring but in a wonderful way.

He’s had the only reunion he was concerned with. Stepping onto the docks yesterday to find Brennan was a surreal experience, especially when his father sizes him up. The last Captain Jones saw of his sons, Killian was barely retaining his memories. His father seemed ten times larger than the average man, so standing before him now, their statures so similar, is the hardest part to swallow. But then Emma was beside him, easing the tension he felt in his shoulders. Introducing him to Emma might be his favorite part of the reunion.

Their stories are not so unique. There are children and parents, friends, lovers, enemies who decide to bury the hatchet – all types of camaraderie all over this town that was born of petty hatred. Person by person, story by story, they sort through every resident in the town to take an accurate survey of everyone there, figuring out where each one wanted to live and shuffling them toward the piers to help get them ready for Ursula.

Shortly after everyone gets placed where they want to go, life returns to something resembling normal. Since the bean crop is just about at its harvesting point, Killian is pretty sure they’re bound to get a message any day about Emma’s parents planning a visit. The idea makes her absolutely giddy. She wants her parents to see that while they were separated for far too long, she was by no means abused in her temporary “prison” town. She talks plenty about taking them to various places in town, not hesitating to point out a new one as they walk to dinner one night, or as he walks with her to work the next day.

He always gives her a kiss on the cheek before they part, with her heading into the station and him walking the last couple blocks to the docks on his own. He knows boats and ships, so what better place for a pirate than working at the docks. His crew, all but Smee, returned to Misthaven to go find their bluer seas. He sent Smee back to retrieve his ship, but hired the man to be his first mate once more, for good over greed this time. Amazingly, Smee happily comes aboard, glad to lend out his services of finding people and goods when not working on the Jolly Roger.

The fair trade of magic beans and goods in Misthaven ends up being so lucrative that Storybrooke becomes something of a tourist destination. There aren’t a lot of visitors in the winter, but in the summer, there are people popping in every day of the week. It means that they have to come up with a conversion rate for gold to money, which is an interesting affair, but it works out fantastically for Granny’s bed and breakfast, and the diner. With the extra revenue, Regina begins making plans for updates and upgrades, for new construction projects and a reassessment of the schools. Everything that can be improved is given a thorough inspection by their new, watchful mayor.

It also works out great for Killian and Brennan. Since he’s already been working on the docks all this time, he and Killian start up an ocean tour business, taking their vacationing Misthaven folk out on the sea and around the coasts they can now travel to since the curse has lifted. When Liam comes to visit, the Jones family has their own day. Liam has more memories of Brennan, and so the two connect much easier than Killian initially had. But having them all together is more valuable than anything else.

When he returns home after the first night, Emma is waiting for him with a knowing smile on her face. She pulls him into her arms as soon as he closes the door, easing the tension and nerves that he managed to hide all day long. Having a family outside of Emma is still startlingly new to him, but he’s adjusting.

The king and queen’s visit is a much-anticipated event for the town. Much like a visit from any other top-ranking officials, the residents all put forward their best efforts. Granny, who knew Snow as a child before she and Ruby were sent to the cursed town, gets to host the royals as her guests. During their visit, Killian gets a taste of how it must’ve been adjusting him to modern amenities. Emma’s parents were told in advance what to expect, however watching David operate light switches is Killian’s new favorite activity.

On the second day of their vacation, Emma and Snow go out shopping for modern clothes for the king and queen to wear during the rest of their stay. In their new outfits, David looks like any other random bloke in town, and Snow looks like a perfect school teacher, her prim cardigans and soft pastels the perfect style for her demeanor.

“In another life, in this town, I think I would’ve enjoyed being a teacher,” Snow tells them after Emma points this out.

The four of them squeeze around the table at Emma’s apartment for meals, and it’s obvious that the space that used to feel adequate is no longer enough. Hand-me-down castoffs are well and good, but as soon as they start shopping for Killian and filling the closet and drawers with his clothes as well, they realize that they’re not destined to inhabit the one-bedroom apartment for something longer than a temporary stay.

Finding a house to live in is an adventure all on its own. They wait until David and Snow return home to go out looking, wanting to devote their whole attention to the task. They bicker about the details, sometimes to the point of going just beyond the term of disagreements and entering fighting, but it’s only through these interactions that they discover ways to resolve them. And make-up sex is the very best way to end any argument, of course.

When they do find a house, it’s a choice they can both agree on. The process of filling the house with more than just furniture and clothes is something they both delight in. Emma has a knack for finding the perfect paintings and artwork to put on the walls, and Killian excels at finding knickknacks and functional items of the perfect style. Soon, picture frames line the walls and sit across the mantel, and curtains they picked together cover their windows.

After a little over a year of residing in peaceful Storybrooke, they head back to the Enchanted Forest to prepare for the wedding. Brennan and Smee sail the Jolly Roger between the realms with the help of the magic beans and ferry guests to Misthaven for the event.

For some of them, it’s their first time back to their homeland, so David and Snow open their doors to any guests, housing all of the wedding-goers in an attempt to make everyone as comfortable as possible.

Killian can hardly believe the transformation of the flower field when he sees it the day of the wedding. Platforms and walkways, all specially crafted with the fairies’ magic, are placed over the flowers so that none of them are disturbed during the ceremony. In the center, a dais has been built up to accommodate the nuptials. With their flowers all in bloom, and the sun shining down on them, Killian and the guests wait patiently for Emma and her parents to walk up the path.

He might be biased, but she’s the most beautiful bride he’s ever seen. The dress is more modern, having been purchased in Storybrooke, but her head is topped with a flower crown made of the delicate buds from the field. The event outshines every ball the kingdom has ever held, with the reception taking place in the main hall. They spend their first night as husband and wife in Emma’s old quarters, with her magic surrounding and protecting the room again, just in case. As is the trend in their lives, this is the room that witnesses another of their firsts.

While the guests all return to Storybrooke in the days that follow the wedding, Emma and Killian stay behind to begin the first leg of their honeymoon adventure. As a princess, Emma had little chance to explore the kingdoms, so they set off on a journey to remedy that. Killian takes her on a tour of the best ports he visited. The second half of their tour is spent exploring the country that houses their new home. Storybrooke still won’t show on any maps, keeping their little magic town a secret of sorts, but the broken curse means that the residents can move beyond the town limits.

Killian is sure that their life in the Enchanted Forest would’ve been filled with plenty of excitement, but as they settle back in after their journey ends, he discovers that they’ve hit the exact amount of thrills to fit their lifestyle. Some nights they dance to whatever music comes from the stereo, and sometimes they go sailing for the joy of feeling the wind in their hair. They make dinner slightly more often than going to grab Granny’s for takeout, and they live and work and love every single day, enjoying every single moment.

And when the time is right, they get a cat.

The End.

Thank you for reading! xo

#cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan ff #csbb #csbb 2017 #sarah writes ff #wait for the moonrise #enchanted forest/modern au #*quietly sobs*#it's the end

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6ad6ro · 7 years ago

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time-travelling-bee2

replied to your post

“dark souls an analysis of every game in the dark souls series by a big...”

Honestly, I feel a bit of your points are off. The first, exceedingly minor thing, is that you seem to be confusing "smurfs" and "twinks." If you were to ban all smurfs, then noone could make a new playthrough Well, first of all, I don’t feel Dark Souls 1 is that cheap. You never gave any examples other than O&S (which are clearly supposed to be taken on with a summon, you even get Solaire if you’re offline), though I can easily imagine Capra and their dogs as one. Maybe even Nito, because of the skeletons (though this is more of a stretch, and then wouldn’t you also have to throw in DS3’s Curse-Rotted Greatwood? That’s even worse, since it’s mostly invulnerable) Next, the healing. Sure, you couldn’t grind for estus flasks, but you didn’t need to. You got them for free. I honestly found it a major annoyance moving from DS1 to 2 that I HAD to grind, since you only had 1 to start with. And even if 20 estus flasks every bonfire wasn’t enough, you actually COULD grind for healing items in the form of humanity from rats (or skeleton babies). Besides, in DS2, enemies stop respawning, so you can’t REALLY grind at all. As for DS2, while you might just call me another one of “those elitists who hate DS2 for making it easier,” a lot of my gripes are actually changes making it harder. Like how every enemy has ungodly tracking, how your health decreases every time you die (and you can’t even see your current health, only the maximum), the ability to be invaded while hollow, the general lack of stat points at sl1 despite the highest number of stats, what feels (to me) like abnormally high stat requirements for weapons, insane fall damage, etc. Also, Soul Memory. Made me constantly afraid to do anything but level up, because it’s all permanent. Can’t buy consumables, those won’t last. Can’t buy arrows or bolts, those won’t last. Can’t upgrade weapons, “What If I don’t like it?” And if you die, and lose all your souls? You’re fucked. Because every soul you get counts, even the ones that aren’t doing anything to help you. And you know who tend to be the ones who can spend souls the most efficiently, get the most bang for their buck?The ones who have it all planned out beforehand.The ones who are skilled. The smurfs. Newbies, at the same power level, will have a much higher memory, due to wasting money from dieing, upgrading useless weapons, and grinding for items/consumables they need to progress.But smurf/twink invaders can grind for free, infinitely, with the right ring and cov. I will agree that Dark Souls 1 is twink hell, but I still feel that Dark Souls 3’s system is the best, since it looks at upgrade level as well as actual level. Sure, there’s still rings, but those are generally balanced out by the numerous boons hosts have (more health, increased estus (even if the twink has max estus), summons/way of blue, giant’s seed). It’s less an ant versus an elephant, more an ant versus a cat. But the ant can summon infinite elephants(by pasword)

TLDR - prob to be expected, but i disagreed with a lot (but not all) of your counterpoints. most of your issues with ds2, while valid, seem to stem from you not knowing about “company of champions”, causing you to make things needlessly hard on yourself. i think the term “twink” is a kinda gross term so i don't use it. also tiny warning i’m in a bad mood rn lol, so v srry if i came off a bit harsh! ironically i just got done uninstalling ds2 ps4 bc it’s pure shit and i’ve had enough (hence the “bad mood”). oh and even tho you’re kinda criticizing me, ty for reading what i wrote and responding? anyways i’m gonna put my full reply under a cut bc it’s gonna be super long srry.

so “twink” is sorta homophobic, or at least it’s origins. i’m not gonna use a slur from within the gay community, that was already mildly gross, that was then appropriated by shitty edgelord gamer culture “bc homophobia is funny”, to label a very bad aspect of games. it’s a bit trashy no matter how you look at it. so i say “smurf”, esp considering the terms are pretty interchangeable. there is no real “correct” term bc it’s slang and opinions are divided across the net. but at least smurf came first. from starcraft pros who used “papasmurf” (and other variants) as their alt and would grief new players by pretending to be new and bad. but then halfway through the match they’d switch gears completely and just stomp all over them to get a negative reaction.. what makes a smurf (or whatever you wanna call it) a smurf is the intent of griefing and never intending for it to be a fair fight, not just that they happen to be better than the other player. it’s the intent to bully and make the other person mad. smurfing is premeditated. and really fucking pathetic. so anyways... souls 1. uhh i... did give other examples besides o&s? do you mean just examples of bad bosses? bc sure i can list a bunch. i swear i mentioned gargoyles. but also fucking 4 kings. capra, sure. nito kinda rly sucks. wolf is way too harsh. gwyn is actually really awful too, but he’s last boss so i give him a pass. also, tho i’m cool with it, people really hate bed. the rest of the bosses aren’t nearly as cheap, but they’re still usually way harder than bosses in any of the other games save a few examples. imo “the show isn’t worth the price of admission”. and the run to the fights themselves were usually unreasonably tough/long. so about the summoning. you know the game. you played it a ton and learned through countless mistakes, or you researched it a ton online (watched letsplays maybe). average people? they don’t do that. most people expect single player games to explain themselves within the game to a point. so a lot of people didn’t/won’t have access to solaire. or understand summoning. i would say most people won’t have humanity at that point having died so much. you, and many other souls fans, can fail to realize how unique and specific your situation is that allowed you to now consider stuff like this as fair or balanced or obvious, when in reality it’s totally cheap and grueling and incomprehensible.. i’ll elaborate on this aspect more later, but there is a common issue with people who love and defend souls that they have... very little self awareness in regards to this game? a lack of empathy for how others would handle the same situations. sorry i’m not saying this is you for certain i’m just... making an assumption based on the huge amount of people who defend souls, ds1 especially. but my point is, most people? solo o&s. with a really low level bc they died so much. and they just quit. bc it’s super hard even WITH solaire and a high level. bc it’s a horrible place for that fight. two of the hardest individual bosses at the same time plus a super boss after you beat one. awful. why are they harder than p much all bosses that come after them? why are they there? it’s a big stupid badly designed brick wall that murders fun for most people. umm wait but greatwood is so moderate (comparatively). you played ds3 right? greatwood gets stunned by every weakpoint break. it’s weak points might trick you once but you figure it out quickly bc it’s pretty visually obvious. mobs are comparatively simple and he kills his own mobs. he’s a big slow dumb idiot and his mobs stop half way into his fight. actually you know what? sure. tree kinda sucks too. i could see people having issues easily. but the health and damage are so low that, when combined with how r1-spam-friendly and forgiving ds3 is, it’s just not the same. i see your comparison to gravelord but imo tree is insanely easier. kinda like how the gargoyles fight in ds2 was so much easier than the one in ds1 even tho there were way more actual gargoyles in 2? bc the fight itself was inherently less dangerous in every way even though visually/thematically it was similar. again, most of your opinions on how to mitigate difficulty in ds1 actually come from super non-obvious stuff. do you know how many people never kindle their bonfires even once? or knew humanity healed you? that aside, you know what’s better than even 20 estus? 10 estus and 99 inexpensive lifegems you can just replace as much as you want. that sell from an impossible to miss npc. and ftr, 20 estus (if you even had that bc most don't), STILL isn’t enough usually. considering the insane damage bosses and normal enemies give. you have normalized souls levels of difficulty and forgotten what even 16 bit era games are like. you could have unlimited estus and still die in any souls easily, new player or not. oh uhh lastly you know enemies DO actually have unlimited respawn in ds2 right? it’s optional. you just join “company of champions” and enemies unlimited respawn. making the regular respawn limit simply make the game WAY easier by letting you grind enemies away “forever”. great for grinding souls, items, and not worrying about killing off all your potential souls while clearing an area for the boss run. or just getting rid of particularly bullshit spawns. but tbh again i don’t blame you for not knowing, seeing how souls makes all their games artificially way more difficult by doing stuff like this lol. in a way, this alone may be imo the BEST argument you have against my opinion that ds2 was much easier than ds1. i’m really glad you brought up this design flaw like i’m sure what you experienced happened to a lot of others at least on some level. i’d only call you one of “those elitists who hate DS2 for making it easier” if that’s what you are. bc most ds1 fans? souls fans in general? are like that. elitist. pretentious. insanely competitive. if you didn’t like the other changes to ds2 bc it was different than 1 and that’s what you were used to, then that’s super fair! i recently saw someone find ds3 way harder than 2 bc the action was different. it’s fair. but you remember. you know your fanbase. you know all the message boards replying to valid questions with “git gud” and “it’s really not hard at all” etc. you may not be one of those people, but at least be aware of the souls fanbase? there’s a GOOD reason it’s starting to get criticized so often. sort of an aside but still related... if i remember correctly in ds2 miya (he was still involved) was considering putting in difficulty settings until the fanbase lost their shit. that’s another confusing things that ds1 fans did that confused me. didn’t they get that company of champions was the obvious way to bring back souls 1 difficulty? tho it was a bit obtuse for sure. the “normal/easy/hard” difficulties woulda been objectively better for everyone. uhh your specific complaints abut ds2 tho... no you’re right about most of them like even if you don’t realize a few can be mitigated? like being invaded while hollow well people can just go offline completely. do sl1 stats rly matter other than to very specific sl1 runs? it’s valid, but will never come up as an issue for 99% of people. you level up v fast in ds2, to the point i’d say you get two levels per 1 in ds1? leveling up late game in ds1 is so tough compared to 2. soul memory was great bc it murdered smurfing. if i remember correctly ds1 and des had a bunch of hidden shit that acted like soul memory anyhow? it wasn’t until bb and ds3 that that kind of stuff had less of an impact, which of course brought back the smurfs in ds3. i hate to say it but soul memory should ONLY be an issue to less hardcore or newer players if they wanna keep co-oping with each other? it seems like you might have been super worried about pvp stuff or other advanced things... which tbh is REALLY not for the average person. lack of pvp made nothing "harder” exactly. again, plz remember my whole analysis was geared towards newer players wanting to give souls a try? predominantly pve-specific stuff. aw man you weren’t leveling up weapons (or gear) in 2? weren’t buying arrows or healing items? i mean it really wasn’t that expensive... i guess i could see ds2 being rly hard with such a handicap. i’m still super confident that ds1 without upgrades is way harder than ds2 (i know from experience tbh), but nonetheless that sounds rough. try and look at the mistakes you made with your ds2 playthrough and apply that same exact stuff to someone else with ds1. all i can really say to that is souls once again failed by design. THIS kind of stuff is why i criticize the parts of the series that i do. you seem to know so much about the series, but yet you still make huge seemingly basic mistakes. don’t you see the big issue here? i forgot to bring up the constant health loss at death. yeah, it sucks. it does. i’m glad that was removed in 3 (wasnt it? lol). BUT! human effigies were a hell of a lot more plentiful than humanity was. they were easier to understand and manage as well? built-up humanity loss was a much harsher punishment than the slow loss of max health until you used one of your (comparatively) plentiful effigies in 2. um again smurfs aren't just experienced players starting a new char. that’s just an alt. or a new game. unless they intend to grief people and play unfairly they aren’t smurfs or anything like that. in all my ds2 play i only rarely ran into people who were way way out of my skill range (due to soul memory), but i can kinda see why you’d be unhappy? then again, compared to ds1 there’s not much comparison since there was like not much to stop the real smurfy stuff. you at LEAST had soul memory to protect you a little bit. also people not knowing about company of champions aside... even tho i wasted a ton of souls through death or buying consumables or lvling up items in my first ds2 run... and never used company of champions until endgame (when souls are fairly negligible)... i still wound up beyond “over-leveled” by the vanilla endgame? don’t get me wrong, ds2 is flawed and i think it needs co-op through the entire thing to be really great. i think i mentioned demons was a better game solo? but i still think ds2 is worlds more accessible than ds1. yeah ds3 handles invasion better than ds1. agree. but ds3 is so so popular still and ds1... well it’s still played but it’s different. ds3′s awful smurf problem being better than ds1′s in comparison? doesn’t remove ds3′s issue in general. i am by no means “great” at souls, but i have crazy experience under my belt. i can outplay most smurfs. i usually do to a significant level. but when i hit a smurf invader 25 times and they don’t need to heal yet... and then they finally hit me once and i lose 2/3 my health... all your arguments fall apart. it’s definitely NOT a fair fight in any way regardless of the “advantages” i have as the host when a havel cosplayer wanders into my starting zones. and then a nameless king. and then just a completely naked smurf named “the hulk” that is totally naked besides a pyromancy flame that it punches with. that i can barely damage and still wrecks me hard per punch. they’re basically cheating. but just to be clear this is not an issue if you aren’t trying to do a co-op playthrough with a friend tho. two low levels can’t take on a smurf no matter how skilled they are. so either you annoyingly work around it, or one of you brings in their high level char. which of course causes any invading smurf to suicide the moment they see the high level. every. single. time. bc they’re all pathetic bullies. THIS is the problem. and the devs had a million ways to keep this from happening. but they either like it bc miya will always be a sick sadist, or they just don’t care too much. honestly the first areas or two should just have an option to be locked out of invasions while still being able to co-op... p much the ONLY people who enjoy it are smurfs. sure, i could technically go online and find a high lvl friend (if i had one) to stop an annoying invader. but don’t you see how absurd that is? having to run to message boards or something bc another user is literally keeping you from playing the game? that’s a horrible solution to a shitty problem. it’d be like i had a family picnic, and some idiot rolled up in a bulldozer and plowed right into our table and just sat there. your solution is like saying “oh whatever nbd just call the cops its fine”. well no it’s not fine. bc our day was ruined and we had to call the cops. people who are doing co-op playthroughs don’t give a SHIT about artificial competition, they just want to team against the ai and have a good time. smurf invaders ruin that. devs made multiplayer in souls confusing and absurd enough already like we didn’t need more issues? it’s just too bad bc souls co-op, when it works, is some of the best pve co-op in any game? but souls devs are so obsessed with this artificial difficulty and vague bullshit they let it ruin all the fun. it’s just horrible design. objectively bad. i love ds3 but this part is v disappointing.

#time-travelling-bee2 #reply #long

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