A/N: This is the first chapter of 'In Your Light,' my newest multi-chapter fic. It's been a story I've been toying with for a few months now, but I finally have room in my writing line up to start it. With this first chapter, I have tried to set the scene and to kind of give you all a lay of the land and so on. I'm ending with the first sort of interaction between Emma and Killian, but this story isn't really a slow burn. We all know I don't do terribly well with the whole patiently waiting for love thing in these fics, so expect more CS cuteness very soon. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy and thanks for reading!

Emma

Peace and quiet. If one wanted to advertise a morning in coastal Maine, those three words would be the selling point. Emma Swan had been all over the country, and nowhere else had she ever found these two gifts in such abundance. It was one of the reasons she'd decided to make this little corner of the earth her home, and she'd never regret it.

Rising with the sun, before the hustle and bustle of the rest of the day, a person could go for hours without the clutter of harsh sounds or stale small talk. But the phrase was deceiving, for even in the peacefulness there was sound. All around her, Emma heard the chirps of birds, a subtle breeze whistling through the wood of the nearby docks, and the lap of the waves on the shore. Sometimes, when people said they wanted quiet, what they meant was silence, but Emma would never be one of those people. She'd suffered through enough of it as an orphan and a kid kicked around through the foster system. Turned out the fastest way to silence was being alone in the world.

Thank God those days were behind her now, but still the effects of her time in the system lingered. She was relatively certain that most people never thought about the subtle differences between quiet and silence, but this was how she filled her time when working, with big questions and astute introspections about the way things really were. It relaxed her to be outside, just her and her camera as her mind wandered to the tune of the natural world. The only manmade sound scattered throughout those environmental melodies was a subtle click-click-click as she took more and more photos of the land around her.

Her camera lens currently focused on a troop of small sandpipers, running along the shore together and avoiding the water as if it was the most dangerous of foes. She couldn't keep the smile off her face at the strangeness of their lives. They needed the water, sea birds always did, but they sprinted away from the white foam at the edge of each approaching wave with such a singularity of purpose that it was enthralling. It was what kept Emma out here this morning despite the fact that she'd had the shot she needed for the National Seabird Sanctuary in Portland twenty minutes ago. She likely would have continued if not for the sound of approaching footsteps that belonged to her sister Elsa bearing not one, but two cups of coffee. For supplying Emma with more caffeine, her adopted sister was truly a saint.

"Sometimes I forget we live in such a beautiful place." Emma smiled, taking the coffee Elsa offered and drinking liberally before responding.

"Definitely beats where we came from." Though Emma didn't know her birth family, and by extension her actual ancestral origins, she'd found Elsa and their other sister Anna in a seedy section of Phoenix Arizona. After being there a few months, running away from home after home, she found these two sisters who loved each other fiercely. They inspired Emma, even if she found their hope to be a bit naïve. Her own experience had taught her not to get attached, but the belief Elsa and Anna had in each other in spite of their situation broke through the walls Emma had firmly put in place.

At fifteen, Emma had already been hardened to the cruelties of the world, but Anna and Elsa were only just beginning their trek on the path of sadness. Their parents had died in a car accident only a few months before, leaving a then sixteen-year-old Elsa to watch after her thirteen-year-old sister. They were new to the system and terrified. Emma had taken one at look at them and knew they needed more than each other – they needed someone who understood this world and who could get them through it, maybe helping them to keep that hopefulness alive. Had it not been for them, Emma would have kept running. As it was she decided to do something she hadn't done in a long time – she decided to stay. It was the best choice she'd ever made to this day.

The three had been inseparable ever since, and in every way that mattered, they'd become family. Each girl had made room in their heart for the other, and in turn they'd received all the same traits of the average sister. They bickered and fought, they laughed and they cried, but mostly they loved fiercely, and were loyal to a fault. It didn't hurt that they actually looked pretty similar as well, for both Emma and Elsa had light blonde hair and Anna had green in the center of her blue eyes that matched Emma's almost perfectly.

Now, years later, they were here, in a small town called Storybrooke, Maine, nearly as far as one could get from Phoenix while still living in the states. They'd come on a whim one day in Emma's little yellow bug after Anna graduated from high school almost nine years before. It was their last stop on an impromptu road trip and they'd decided never to leave. In the years since, all three women had attended college at a nearby state school and followed their passions. They were happy and healthy, a true miracle given their pasts.

"Honestly, I really envy you your job right now." Elsa said, staring out into the ocean as if absorbing a sense of calm from its vastness. As a high school teacher, Elsa led a very different professional life than Emma did as a freelance photographer. Elsa's job was to lead young minds where Emma's was to fade into the background and find the shot. Only then did she get her own voice, framing a motion, an image, a moment into a solid picture that led her viewer to feel or appreciate any given shot.

For Emma, this line of work was perfect. It kept her grounded in the here and now while also allowing her to go through a whole range of emotions in a safe way. Guarded as she still was from her tumultuous upbringing, outlets like photography and art had always been Emma's means to express herself. That she go to do it as a career now, and that she actually had enough jobs to live off of meant the world to her. If she could do this, she could do anything Anna always said.

"You say that, but we both know you'd never give up teaching for anything. Those kids love you and you love them." That was the understatement of the year. Between Elsa and one of their best friends, Mary Margaret, also a teacher amongst the Storybrooke ranks, there was so much enthusiasm for the future of America and the next generation, it was kind of overwhelming. As if that sincere love wasn't enough though, there were other enticements at Elsa's place of work.

"I also hear there's this cute history teacher. He's foreign or something… I'm a little fuzzy on the details." Elsa shoved at Emma playfully and they both laughed. The teacher in question was Liam Jones, a British export who'd made his way to Storybrooke a few years back, also by a strange twist of spontaneous fate, and had instantly fallen in love with Elsa. And he was hardly a stranger - he was Elsa's fiancé, and Emma's soon to be brother.

"Don't let Liam hear you calling him cute. He'll take the highest offense." Emma didn't doubt it. Cocky as all hell, but with a heart of gold, Liam Jones was too big and masculine to be cute. Besides, the word was far too overused within the halls of a high school, and as a result, all the teachers seemed to loathe its use outside of the building in which they worked. Emma knew this full well, but continued to say it all the same.

"I think I can take him. Brothers are supposed to be a bit prickly, aren't they?" Emma expected some more laughter from Elsa, but instead the other blonde bit her bottom lip, now looking a bit nervous. "Did I say something?"

"Liam got a call the other day from his brother." Emma thought back to all the things she knew about the younger man in question. He was British navy, that she was certain of, but aside from his occupation and his name, Killian, Emma didn't have much to go on. Now that she thought of it, Liam hadn't mentioned Killian much, except to vocalize his hope that his brother was safe and would make it back from the warzone where he was stationed soon. The thought that maybe something was wrong shot a pang through Emma's heart. She couldn't even be entirely sure if she'd ever seen a picture of the man, but she hated to think something had befallen him.

"Is everything okay?" Elsa nodded, looking a little distracted but Emma waited her out. Eventually her sister spilled the beans, her words tumbling past her lips with alarming speed. Had Emma not had practice with such moments, she'd have missed half of the words.

"He's just been discharged from the navy. So of course Liam was thrilled. He's always so worried about Killian but… but they aren't like us. If you were away like this or I was, we'd talk about it and be open about being worried or wanting you home. With them it's this weird code and all this dead air between them, you know? Anyway, Liam reminded him about the wedding, and told him he's welcome here anytime and I just – what if he doesn't like me? Or what if he doesn't think I'm worthy of Liam?" Emma placed her hands on Elsa's arms and made her sister look at her. Pure anxiety was clearly plaguing Elsa so now it was Emma's job to try and help her see reason.

"They have baggage. It's that simple, even if it's a minefield of complications. We get baggage, hell we specialize in it, right?" Elsa nodded. "As for him finding anything about you lacking, that is just crazy. You are amazing, kind, caring, and perfect for Liam. If he has even an ounce of sense or decency he'll see that, and since Liam's never implied that he's an idiot, I think we're in the clear." Elsa smiled, but her blue eyes held just a bit more hesitation.

"What if he doesn't come for a visit or the wedding? Liam loves his brother so much, but they haven't seen each other in years. Any time Killian's gotten leave he makes some excuse or other and Liam's the one left hurting. I just wish I could fix it, but I can't. I don't even know him." Emma considered the question, and though she wanted to ease Elsa's mind, Emma's instincts told her that giving Elsa perspective might be best here. Maybe if Elsa looked at the bigger picture, and understood that there was so much more at play here than just the bond of two brothers, it would ease her own sense of burden.

"You don't go to war and get out unscathed, Elsa. I think chances are they are both hurting, but that point aside, I think the best answer to this problem is a trusty Mary Margaret-ism. The minute I let go of the belief that things will get better…"

"…Is the minute I know they won't. You're right, I just have to hope for the best and be there for Liam in the meantime." Emma smiled, glad that her gut hadn't led her astray. It very rarely did. Actually her intuition was a widely trusted resource by many of the people that she loved and cared for, but to be right at such a time meant a lot. Helping Elsa made Emma's own worries dissipate and left the rest of the day before them brighter and filled with more happy potential.

"And think of it this way, if he does come to town and he's terrible, you can hand him off to me. It's physically impossible for him to be worse than the guys I've dated." Elsa groaned, looping her arm through Emma's as they walked back towards town.

"If he's that bad we are in for a world of hell." The sisters laughed at the dramatics, both knowing it was impossible for Liam to think so highly of a man as crappy as her exes. Still, as they strolled down the sands and eventually left the beach behind them, Emma couldn't help but wonder just what kind of man Killian Jones would turn out to be.

Killian

This was a bloody mistake. That was the one constant thought sounding in Killian Jones mind since he boarded the bus from Boston to Portland. One of the stops on the line was a small beach town in Maine by the name of Storybrooke. Yes, really, it was that quaint. It was also the closest thing he had to home anymore. His only family in the world lived there, and that meant more than the hollow remnants of a life once lived in London. After years of fighting overseas, the right thing to do was to make his way back into the world, at least that was what all of the counselors said when he'd removed himself from naval service.

Killian wasn't holding his breath for that promise of a normal life though, not after the past eight years spent in a military capacity. He'd been nothing more than a boy of twenty when he'd joined up and now he was a man hardened with the bitter realities of what war did to this world. The things he'd seen, the friends he'd lost, the people he'd killed. All of it would forever take its toll and Killian figured that was his penance. He was the one who'd gone into the service looking for honor without reward, now it was time to face the aftermath.

Ever alert to his surroundings, Killian watched as an older woman who had boarded with him in Boston tried to unzip the bag before her, which was clearly caught on some fabric that had been zipped up accidentally. Instinctively he intervened.

"May I?" He asked and the woman peered at him through her glasses before nodding. With ease he fixed the problem and handed it back to her. What might have caused her a headache was nothing to him thanks to years of practice with such regrettable zipper mistakes. The woman was shocked when he was done so quickly but thanked him nonetheless. Where Killian expected to return to his quiet though, she spoke to him again.

"Forgive the intrusion, but you wouldn't happen to be related to a Liam Jones would you?" Killian tensed at the mention of his brother but tried to school himself into relaxing. It was guilt that had him this riled up, guilt that he'd been such a terrible younger brother for so long, but this woman didn't need to deal with his own personal misgivings.

"What gave me away?" She laughed at that, motioning towards the inscription on his duffel bag that read Jones.

"Honey, the better question is what didn't? But you must be a surprise, because I'd have heard in town this week if you were coming." Killian grimaced at the thought that a village full of people he didn't actually know knew so much about him. "That's small town living for you. If you're going to stay you'll need to get used to that."

"How do you know I'm staying?" the woman smiled as she pushed her glasses further up her face.

"Aside from the fact that you're desperate to figure out your next step? Let's just say that Storybrooke is special. It has a tendency to calm even the most restless wanderer." Killian doubted that was possible, but the subtle ache to have something or someplace give him such a calm still came.

"You seem to know a lot about me already Ms…" she waved the formality away.

"Call me Granny, everyone does. I own the town diner. People look upon you with a lot of kindness if you come bearing waffles. So much so that they make you family." Killian smiled in spite of himself.

"You know, I can't remember the last time I had a waffle." And that was a damn shame. He'd always favored them more than any other breakfast food. He and Liam used to eat them all the time as kids, topping them with whipped cream so high, it almost made them inedible and resulted in incredible sugar highs.

"Well I'll have some waiting, whenever you're ready for them." At that moment, the bus slowed to a stop at a modest overhang on the side of the road. Killian had been so immersed in the conversation, he'd missed the town rolling by his window, and he wondered when the last time he'd ignored his surroundings like that was. Maybe this was a good sign that things would work here after all.

Stepping off the bus, he noticed the brightness of the sun carried warmth that wasn't overwhelming. The clear blue skies held only the smallest puffs of clouds, and the greenery around him made the town just what one would expect to see on a postcard for small town America. Before he could think too closely about the details though, Killian felt the phone in his pocket buzzing. He answered it as he turned to look about the main street where he'd been dropped off.

"Jones." The responding chuckle through the line informed Killian that his surprise caller was none other than Will Scarlet, a brother in arms he'd served with for years.

"So harsh, so formal. No hello or anything. I reckon it's going to take you a bit of time to adjust to civilian life again, Captain." Killian grimaced at the title as he often did. He'd been honored with appointments higher and higher through the ranks over the years, but in all honesty, he hated how it had separated him from so many of his men. For Will though, it never seemed to matter. Underneath the extra stripes and formalities, Killian was just Killian.

"The transition might go smoother if you just leave me be." Will laughed again and Killian decided to start walking. He had Liam's address and had checked out a map on the ride here. He was confident he'd find the place in no time.

"I bet the quiet is killing you."

Hardly, Killian thought. Quiet was one of the biggest selling points of this whole impulsive relocation. He'd had enough chaos and the eerie silences that followed for one lifetime. The modest humdrum of every day life was what he craved now. In fact, he wanted to surround himself in it as much as possible.

"I've been here two minutes, mate and I promise I'm still very much alive."

"A bloody miracle if what Locksley told me is true." Of course word of the ambush had reached Will. The men in their unit were a bunch of gossips. Killian knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt.

"What can I say, I'm a survivor." So were his men, all of whom had been given an option at the end of that last mission. It was a choice Killian had been faced with before, to stay in the fray of battle or to move on. He'd surprised even himself when he'd done the latter, but this situation had been different. He and his team had been stranded as enemy captives for three days and death had come pretty damn close more than once in those seventy-two hours. Only in the face of the repetitive threat had he realized that he wanted more from his life. He was skeptical he'd find it, but the choice was made and now here he was.

"No argument here. Lord knows you've gotten me out of enough scrapes." Technically they'd gotten each other out of those bad spots, but Will was right. They were lucky to still be here, Killian had to remember that whenever his mood turned for the worst.

"Did you call to thank me, Scarlet, or was there something you wanted?" His friend huffed through the phone audibly at the gruffness and Killian felt remorse. It certainly was not Will's fault that Killian was off to face his brother after so long a separation. "Apologies, mate, you didn't deserve that."

"Hell no I didn't. But you're the one making the awkward come-home today so I'll allow it this one time. I was just calling to check in. Now stop bumbling around town and go find Liam." Killian heeded the words, hanging up the phone as he rounded the corner to the next street, faced with the quiet once more.

Every person he passed waved at him even if he had no idea who they were. They all had a 'hello' and a smile for him too and it made him feel too on display. He picked up he pace, hurling his duffle bag over his shoulder, intent to get to Liam's and out of this strange little society when he happened upon a park. There were quite a few children playing about, but two caught his attention right away. They were gesturing with swords and swinging them about with more finesse than he'd imagined children would have. One was dressed with an eye patch and the other with a kerchief over her head. Pirates, he gathered from their dress and mannerisms. He stopped to watch them, smiling at their enjoyment, when he heard the most beautiful sound. It was laughter he knew, but the throaty warble of it was light and airy and intoxicating.

"Show yourself, fiend!" The little boy demanded to the barrier before him and from behind the plastic plaything, Killian watched the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen rise up. With long golden hair in soft curls and an easy going smile now turned into a playful smirk, she extended her own wooden sword.

"You think you've defeated me, Captain Garrett? Think again!" He watched as the woman pretended to duel with the lad only for the young girl to join the fray. "And you've brought Captain Lena? Well, the more the merrier."

Killian couldn't tear his gaze away from the scene before him. Even in play, the woman's motions were fluid as if she was dancing, and every time she spoke his heart hammered loudly in his chest. His mouth had gone dry, his thoughts of finding Liam were totally gone. All he could see was the vision before him. She was magnificent even in her over dramatized surrender to the kids.

"Killian?" A feminine voice asked. He turned away from the beauty before him to see another woman with blonde hair who he recognized by sight. It was Elsa, his brother's fiancé who Killian had only ever seen in pictures, and she'd just caught him staring at this random woman like he was crazy.

"Aye. And you're Elsa." She smiled, extending her hand, which he took.

"I'm so happy you're here." Her confession lacked any falseness in its tone. She seemed genuinely glad to see him. The mention of happiness though had his eyes involuntarily wandering back to the woman in the park who still ran about with the kids. Elsa must have followed his eyes and she let out a little laugh. "The kids are really giving Emma a run for her money today."

"Emma?" He looked back at Elsa who nodded, a little curious at his interest but not saying anything of it.

"Yes, my sister, Emma Swan." Emma Swan. He'd never heard a more fitting name in all his days, for she was as graceful and as beautiful as one of those regal birds. Only after a moment did it register that she'd said sister.

"You have a sister?" Elsa smiled.

"Technically we adopted each other. It's kind of a long story. But it's me, Emma, and Anna who's the mother of the kids Emma's playing with." Another surge of something remarkably close to hope zinged through him at the prospect of Emma being single, but he tried to school his features. The last thing he needed was to give Elsa something to think about between him and her sister. Or adopted sister, or whatever their relationship was. He looked back to Emma and wondered what her story was, genuinely curious, another rarity in his life these days.

"She's coming to the house for dinner tonight, so you guys will meet then. I'm assuming you're staying at the house. We wouldn't have it any other way." The thought of dinner in Emma's company startled and delighted him, but he nodded about staying with Elsa and Liam. As they walked down the rest of the street to the house in question, Killian couldn't remember adrenaline like this in a non-life threatening context, well, ever. Then it hit him, Emma Swan was a threat, at least to the quiet life he'd been planning since discharging. And strangely enough, the thought didn't scare him as much as it should have. In fact, he rather looked forward to it.

Post-Note: So there we have it, my attempt at giving just a small introduction to this new story. I have no idea how many parts this story will have (I have at least five planned in my head so far) but I hope you guys enjoyed, and thank you so much for reading!