okay so this diddy has taken me a real fucking long time to put together and i experienced so much writer's block and made a lot of playlists to get me through it. it's real fucking au, so see endnotes for a timeline on how my universe is working. i am either going to post this in two or three parts. i'll figure that out when i'm done writing the end (almost therrrre). rn it's about 30 pages on google docs in standard type. whoo.
but i hope you enjoy it bc i really liked the concept and i worked hard on it. eyyyy
own nothing. idgaf.
PART ONE
The last thing he expected to find when he climbed down from the helm was the whore pointing a weapon at him, but there they were. In the captain's cabin, Killian at the end of his own sword. He remarked silently that this woman, with one of his shirts drowning her petite figure, could have easily passed as a pirate and not some poor barmaid from Tortuga.
The lass was a new addition to his favourite tavern, one he hadn't visited since before Neverland. After several lewd references concerning his hook, he practically dragged her back to the Roger, their laughter echoing across the harbour. She was bonnie and full of wit, and while Killian wasn't one for blondes, this woman held her rum quite well. She'd taken his offer readily, allowing the captain to carry her back to his ship.
Killian only minutely regretted kidnapping her, but as he often said to many, pirate.
"Come, love, such hostility? After last night?" He teased, hands raised as she sent him what sounded like a growl.
"My business transactions don't usually end on the open waters, captain," she spat. "Where the hell are we?"
Killian breathed a sigh of amusement as he moved toward the cabin's window, the sword following his every move. He didn't trust that she wouldn't maim him, but the man was cocky enough to play the cards.
"We left Tortuga early this morning, love. I've business in the enchanted realms and plan to arrive there by autumn." He looked back at her, smirking. "It's high noon; you can join the crew for a meal if you'd like."
He still didn't know her name. Beyond the whole whore/barmaid part, he had no idea who she was, this seething golden beauty in front of him. Killian doubted he'd lose interest in her for quite some time, unlike any of the other women he'd employed.
"Turn her around and take me back to Tortuga or I'll kill you," she warned, causing a laugh in him. He faced her, closing the gap between them, the sword jabbing into his vest.
"Threats, love?" He mocked. "Despite your entrancing fire, I doubt you'd last five minutes against my men."
"Try me, pirate."
Killian Jones was a very quick man; he had his hook around her calf before she could react, a sharp pull sending her body crashing to the floor. He had the sword out of her hold next, the pirate straddling her lithe frame. The lady was trapped and the blade now under her chin, Killian winking from above.
He brushed a strand of golden hair from her cheek with his hook, leaning down toward her.
"Shall I go on?" He drawled.
"Go to hell," she spit, teeth bared.
"Oh lass, you've no idea how familiar I am with hell," he told her, rolling his eyes. "Truth be told, not very exciting." Pressing the sword into the flesh of her neck, he straightened himself. "Now that we're in a more agreeable position, I think I'd like to know your name."
"You're mad if you think I'll tell you anything, bastard." Her tongue was starting to bore on his nerves, but her sea glass eyes had him distracted from his anger.
"I'm quite mad, milady," he laughed, pressing a small kiss to her lips. He leant further toward her, whispering in her ear. "You hold the sword quite well, darling."
She squirmed, turning her head away, but he only pressed the blade more firmly against her throat.
"Quite obviously, a woman has to protect herself these days, Captain," she replied in a slightly strangled tone. "I learned from my landlord after I entered port six years ago."
He could spot her blatant lies, but she said them with such confidence that he could only play along.
"Of course, it's good for a woman of your, ah, calibre, to be on the safe side." Killian flashed her a cheeky smile, earning an attractive glare. "How did you find yourself in such an establishment, all by your lonesome, love?"
She was silent for a moment, her hot gaze still on him, before she decided to answer.
"My parents were travelers from Agrabah. They died, in the Enchanted Forest, when I was young." A fleeting sadness crossed her eyes, leading Killian to believe the statement. "I saved funds until I was twenty-two and caught a vessel, hoping it would take me anywhere but that realm. I landed in Tortuga and worked to keep myself alive. You aren't the first pirate I've warmed, but you are the first to kidnap me."
"Terribly sorry about that," he chuckled. "You weave a pretty tale, love. Not many people leave the Enchanted Forest. Born there, die there, so it goes."
"It wasn't my home," she replied quietly. "What now, captain? Shall you tell me your life story?"
"Oh, not sober, milady," Killian quipped. "Will you tell me your name?"
"Will you get off me if I do?" She asked, mimicking his tone. He smiled, nodding. "Emma Swan."
"Well then, Lady Swan, it's lovely to make your acquaintance." Killian tucked the sword away, stealing another quick kiss before standing. Looking down, he noticed her shirt had risen, the view of her legs tantalising. He held out a hand, smirking as she begrudging took his calloused palm in hers.
She straightened the loose shirt, crossing her arms over chest. Emma eyed her corset, flung to a corner during the previous night's revels. She'd have a rough time trying to find all of her clothing in the mess the two of them had made during their drunken brigade.
"When will you be returning me?" Emma asked, collecting said belongings.
"Swan," Killian began. "I would like to offer you a deal."
She'd been pulling on a wool stocking at his comment, and as she stretched the scratchy material across her thighs, Emma cocked a brow.
"We both know that I enjoyed your company last night," he laughed as Emma scoffed. "I'd like to offer you a deal."
She finished pulling on the other stocking as he spoke, forehead knitting together.
"Other women such as yourself have found themselves in this position. I'll pay a generous sum, provide you with clothing, meals, and the freedom to do as you please anytime we dock. In return, you warm my bed." Killian finished his proposal, leaning back against his desk, watching as Emma brought the loose shirt over her head, freckled backside exposed.
"I wasn't aware the famous Captain Hook carted around prostitutes," she goaded. "I've heard versions of your life story that would lead me to believe you a bachelor."
Emma covered herself with her chemise, pulling on the heavy dress she wore for the tavern.
"Yes, well you'd best keep those stories out of your head lass," Killian said, his mood darkened. It wasn't surprising that Tortuga was still swimming with rumours of his jaded past, but having it so lightly discussed wasn't something he was fond of. "If you decline the my offer, Emma Swan, I'll be leaving you at the next port to find your own way home."
Emma stood silent, minutes passing as she pulled at the tangled mess of corset strings, thinking about the proposal as she laced it.
"What are your terms, Captain?" She asked after some time, the grin returning to Killian's face.
"You're not to ask for raise in pay at anytime, you'll sleep each night in my cabin unless I say otherwise, and you'll do as I say when I say it. If not, I send you adrift." Emma rolled her eyes at the warning, but said nothing. "If the Roger is under attack you'll lock and bolt the cabin door and hide in the wardrobe trunk until I come fetch you.
"Whenever we dock, you'll be free to spend your money and time as you see fit. You'll not discuss our agreement with anyone you meet, but don't be afraid to spread tales of my gifts, love." He gave her a sultry look at she pulled the corset over her head. "You will not bring anyone back to my ship, and if you attempt mutiny I will kill you."
Emma huffed, turning her back on him.
"Yeah, yeah. I keep my mouth shut and my legs open, I get it. How are you with corset strings?" Emma's crude language caught him off guard but made Killian chuckle as he moved toward her. He took the strings in his hand, knowing he was quite adept at one handed corset tying after all these years. "Am I allowed above or confined to the cabin?"
"So long as you aren't flirting with crewmen and cutting ropes, you're free to the deck," he replied, tugging firmly at each grommet. "Stay clear of crow's nest, though. Don't want an enemy spotting you up there, a lady in distress."
"Admirable," Emma noted, sighing.
Killian gave a sharp pull on her corset, Emma's back coming flush with his chest. "Pirate, love."
"I'll be sure to remember that."
Two weeks had passed since he'd taken Emma Swan from Tortuga, and while her acerbic personality was challenging some days, Killian enjoyed the wench's company. He'd done his best to coax details out of her, but she was amazingly tight lipped about her past. If Killian went too far with his queries, she asked her own rage-inducing questions.
Emma, ever the perceptive woman, who'd seen him unclothed more than once, had noticed the bold tattoo on his arm. She'd brought up one morning at breakfast that he'd said Milah's name in his sleep. While Killian was doing his damnedest not to become angry with the woman, it was becoming increasingly difficult.
Killian often ate dinner alone in his cabin, not one for the ruckus of the crew's chambers, but when there was a woman on board he was more inclined to share meals with her. The two were quietly swallowing their food, Emma scowling at her plate of fish. The sea hadn't offered the Roger many delicacies so far, and she had to force herself to eat every meal.
She almost missed the tavern, with its pebble-like bread and awful smell.
Tortuga had been Emma's home for six years now, her safe haven from the horrors she'd faced back in the Enchanted Forest. She regretted that she was unable to say goodbye to her landlord, a sweet old man who knew what to do with her belongings should she suddenly disappear. Being on the run since eighteen granted one such a life.
"We'll be docking in the morning, love," Killian spoke, the pet name rolling off his tongue. It was that or Swan, her last name called across the deck whenever he needed her. Emma merely called him Hook or jackass, depending on her mood. "I'll thank you to wear a nice dress instead of my trousers."
Emma took a rough bite out of the roll in her hand, nodding in agreement. She'd taken to wearing breeches with a loose shirt tucked into it, her corset overtop. It was the most comfortable option aboard and Emma feared she'd topple into the water if she wore any of the heavy skirted dresses Hook offered.
"Will you plait my hair as well, Captain?" She asked, smirking as the man in question rolled his eyes.
"Do what you like with your hair, Swan, but the dress is required. There's several in the trunk that should suit you." Emma hummed, knowing the gowns to be quite fashionable, if she remembered correctly.
"What business do you have in town?"
"Supplies and errands, is all. When the crew finishes what needs to be done, they'll all crowd the local pub and drink it dry." Killian pushed his plate away, leaning back into his cushioned chair. "I'll give you your first payment and you can do as you please. There are bound to be several shops that would appeal to a woman."
"Of course," Emma sighed.
"See a tailor and have him make you a pair or two of your own breeches, I'm starting to run out now that you've commandeered them." The corner of his mouth quirked, telling Emma that he was teasing. "He could style them to your more...feminine nature."
Emma snorted; she knew quite well that she wasn't the most proper woman, but she still had some honour and etiquette. Her parents had taught her enough about being a young woman in the world before they'd died, and her adolescence had given her more knowledge than she wanted.
The sea's climate was changing and while Emma knew they were nowhere close to Agrabah, the harbour would most likely be hotter than she was used to. She dreaded the idea of wearing a thick, decorated dress in such heat. Curious about the man's interest, she set her chin on a fist, pushing her locks out of the way.
"What colour do you favour?" Emma had half a mind that he'd answer black, what with all the dark leather he swathed himself in daily.
The question was unexpected, not many of the women he'd employed actually tried to know him and were merely short term investments. He'd beached a few after their first mistake, most interested in fame and riches.
"Ah, red. I've a crimson vest I keep for special occasions," Killian answered honestly. Emma gave him a small smile, abandoning her food. She pondered returning their plates, but knew Smee would come get them if she made the request. The blushing first mate was very easily swayed. "And you, lass?"
"It was white for a time, but that's a hard colour to wear when living in such a swampy place. Green matches my eyes and blue goes well with my hair," Emma recited what she knew about each colour and his mouth quirked again, the Captain amused. "Many of the barmaids wore red, so I never did. I stuck to brown, the cheapest colour."
"I see there is a lady in you after all, Swan," Killian quipped, earning a shake of Emma's head.
"Oh, Hook, you've no idea."
A cool draft swept past her as night fell, the Roger passing through the veil into the winter realms.
Emma's head was deep in the large trunk of clothing, articles tossed this way and that in hope of finding a thicker nightgown. Her original chemise was turning to rags from repeated use. Hook's rough hands were no help either, the captain ripping the fabric off her in his frequent drunken hazes. She'd repaired a good many seams in the past month.
Hook kept most of his clothes in a small wardrobe at the other end of the small cabin, filled with leather clothes, the aforementioned red vest, and several other fine articles. Emma investigated every inch of her living space after a few days aboard, curious about the man who had kidnapped her and then offered a business deal.
In the trunk that was now hers lay a dozen dresses of varying size and colour, the skirts creating a void of fabric. Emma was far too lazy to organize it all, the outfit she wore most often thrown at the top after each day's end. Her chemise was never far and her dress from the tavern always poked out the side.
Now that it was so cold that her limbs shook, she had nothing. The only end she was coming to was that she would have to pile on a few of the captain's billowy shirts, but he got cross when anything of his was damaged. Nevermind that it was usually by his own bloody hands.
Emma had been wearing one the last time they docked, reading one of the many books Hook kept, a blanket around her in the captain's chair. He'd come in blind drunk, almost collapsing at the bottom of the ladder before he pulled her to the bed. After ripping the front of the shirt open with his hook, he fucked her sloppily, leaving Emma tired and frustrated. The next morning he'd grumbled about the ruined shirt, throwing it to the floor before stomping up to the helm.
She'd accepted that this would be her life for some time, until she could raise enough sums to get her as far away from the Enchanted Forest as possible. Until then she was stuck in the captain's bed.
Emma had nearly dug to the bottom of the trunk before half of her body was inside it, finding no nightgown thicker than the one she already had. She contemplated sleeping in the trunk altogether, tossing the mess of stockings and gloves to the side in a moment of frustration.
Underneath the articles, she was surprised to find a burlap sack, neatly tucked away in the corner.
Sitting back on her heels, Emma pulled the bag from the bottom of the trunk, quickly shoving the heap of clothing she'd made back into the trunk. Standing, she brought the sack to the captain's desk, leaning against it as she investigated.
Pulling on the contents, her hands met the stiff fabric of what appeared to be a dark blue naval officer's jacket. It was decorated with gold thread, the epaulette fringe frayed and tangled. Emma knew it had to be old, the brass buttons lacking shine and the style outdated. Officers she'd seen as a young girl wore very different uniforms, the colours differing as well. Wrapped in the coat was a pair of white pants, a vest, and a simple button down, all yellowed with age.
It had been obvious to her upon first glance that the Roger was once a navy vessel, but Emma'd assumed Hook had merely commandeered it. There were small holes where pins once lay on the breast; medals of honour, she assumed. Emma wondered why the captain kept such an outfit, the man full of mysteries already.
"It was my brother's," a voice told her from behind. Emma turned her head to see Hook perched on the ladder. He climbed to the bottom, standing awkwardly at a distance. In the dim light of the cabin, Emma could see the sorrow in his eyes.
"I wasn't aware you had one," she responded quietly, replacing the uniform. Emma outstretched a hand and he took the sack, stowing it away in his wardrobe. "How did he die?"
Killian was silent a moment, his back facing her. It was no secret that this was a hard story to tell.
"Poison. Our king sent us on a mission to retrieve the plant that supplied it and my brother died for him." He chose not to add that it had been his fault. "The Roger, once the Jewel of the Realm, was the fastest ship in the navy until I made it a pirate vessel.
"I sent my brother to Davy Jones with his medals but kept his uniform. Thought I'd bring it to him one day, after all was said and done."
"I'm sorry," was Emma's small reply.
"It's been a very long time since then, love."
Despite the truth he spoke, Emma could see it still plagued him. An adopted child, she'd never had the pleasure of siblings; her parents were too old by the time Emma came around. She knew loss well enough to sympathize with him, though.
Killian shrugged the heavy jacket from his back, setting it on the chair's back, Emma watching his movements. Turning to the wardrobe again, he rifled through it before pulling what appeared to be a wool nightgown from its depths. Like she had the jacket, Killian handed it to her, waiting for the woman to take it.
"You'll be cold without it."
Emma donned the nightgown, keeping the chemise beneath it, as the wool would itch if she wore it alone. Thanking him, she fiddled with its sleeves, the thick yarn worn beneath her fingertips. Smoothing her fingers over it, she could tell it was handmade. You couldn't buy such a thing in a shop, not if the captain kept it tucked away in his own wardrobe. Not for the first time, Emma wondered about the full extent of the captain's past as she climbed into bed.
Killian stripped, unlocking the brace from his aching arm before throwing on a loose shirt. Settling next to Emma, he slipped his right hand over her middle, pulling her close for heat. He was used to cold nights alone on the Roger, but a warm body next to his always helped.
They kept their conversations light, neither wanting to focus on their history of sorrow. Emma tried not to dwell on the sadness that found his eyes more and more, the rum flowing faster as each day passed. His drunken stupors filled their cabin with cries for Milah and Liam. Emma was never the motherly type, but there was nothing she could do but comfort the captain on such occasions.
It was becoming a pattern, her arms around him in the dark of his cabin, the moon's light gleaming off the water, casting cool rays across his face. It always ended in quick fucks that tired him out, his deep sleeps giving her peace.
Emma knew he'd remember everything in the morning, but they never talked about it.
They docked in several ports, two months passing and her purse filling substantially. It's a hefty amount, but Emma knows it is not enough to get her back to Tortuga and passage somewhere else. It was doubtful the tavern missed her much, people disappearing all the time, but she'd been there long enough. The urge to run grew stronger each day.
"Tell me something, love," Killian asked her one night, flask in his ringed hand. He'd stumbled down the ladder and over to her, where she'd been settled in bed for a time. Docking let the alcohol flow more freely and she knew Hook's belly was not empty tonight.
"What would you like to know, Captain?" She responded, pulling the blankets around herself. He laughed before downing the rest of his liquor and throwing his jacket to the floor.
"Killian will do, love," he told her, flopping down onto the bed. He eyed her for a couple silent moments, his brow cocked. "You've told me nothing of yourself since Tortuga, Emma Swan. Who're you, really?"
"Everyone has their secrets," she shot back, too quickly. "Just because you own me at the moment doesn't mean I have anything to say."
"No, see, I can't quite figure you out, Swan," he ignored her, his hand coming to play with her blonde locks. "The childhood part is simple; traveling parents, died in the Enchanted Forest, left you all on your lonesome. What I don't understand is how a little girl like you survived all by yourself in such a land, with the Evil Queen killing people left and right."
Emma was silent for a moment, watching the man stare up at her with glazed eyes. He wasn't drunk enough that he'd pass out, but she wondered if he'd remember a punch to the face. It was a tempting thought she had often. She'd never told anyone her whole, real life story. It been twisted and glorified for so long by people who were supposed to be family that she never thought anyone deserved the truth.
"I was abandoned as a baby," Emma began. "My birth parents deserted me, and Jafar's scouts sent me away to Agrabah. He had been a tyrannous Sultan; people weren't allowed to breathe without fear of being questioned. The Swans, merchants, raised me as a tinker. We left Agrabah after Jafar's death; leaving the state while he was in power was impossible." She paused, a pain growing in her chest. "They died when I was eight, highwaymen attacked our carriage and took our horse. I was left to scavenge Sherwood Forest, alone."
"Truly a miracle, then, that you're alive, Swan," he commented, his eyes still focused on her intently.
"If it weren't for Robin Hood and his Merry Men," she laughed briefly at the title, "I'd be dead. They found me three weeks later, skin and bones, at the edge of their camp. They took me in; I was there until I was fourteen."
"What then?" He asked and Emma felt as if she were telling a toddler his bedtime story.
"I fell in love with a boy," she said sadly. "We ran away after he proposed."
Graham had been sweet on her since the moment they met, the butcher's son eyeing her in the market every now and then. Emma's role within Robin's camp had been the shopping, coming out from the woods to gather small supplies every now and then. Graham's brothers were all hunters, working under their father, but he was too small to hunt alone yet. Instead he stood guard on his father's shop while the man retrieved meats and pelts for customers.
Emma's smiles and soft greetings had earned her many free meals and walks back to camp, week after week. Graham taught her how to trap and clean animals, things she'd seen done by Robin's hunters but never learned. He'd been a kind friend for years, by her side constantly. He hung on her every word, and at fifteen, asked for her hand.
"Lass?" Killian brought his hand up to her face, stroking her strong jaw with a heavy hand. "The boy?"
"Dead," she whispered. "We were traveling through the Queen's forest, our first mistake, when we ran out of food. He killed a deer and was caught. We hadn't known that all of the Queen's animals were enchanted. I watched Regina rip out his heart from our hiding spot. Then they took his body away and I never saw him again."
Killian's eyes flashed with an emotion she couldn't figure out, his calloused palm rested lightly against her cheek.
"That was what made you leave?" He prodded her, thumb still moving against her skin, his eyes growing heavy.
"Yes, but the rest is a story for another day," she sighed, her hand clasping his. "You should sleep now, Hook."
"Killian," he told her again. "Call me Killian, please."
"Killian then," Emma laughed softly. "Sleep."
He did as she said, his head falling back onto the thin pillow. He'd left his brace on, and she knew he'd be sore by morning if he slept in it. Pulling the shirt from his chest, she took her time to examine the chains he wore around his neck.
The crucifix had always surprised her, but Emma wouldn't begrudge any man their gods. A silver band sat on one chain, another carrying a round pendant, the depiction of a mermaid on its small surface.
Killian didn't have many tattoos, setting him apart from many other pirate lords. She'd seen the bleeding heart on his arm many times, Milah emblazoned across it. A compass rose sat over his heart, the last one an anchor on his bicep. Overtop it were deep red lines from the brace, the welts now one with him after what must have been years with the hook.
He hadn't told her the full extent of how he lost his hand, but she knew well enough what happened: fell in love with someone else's woman and the husband cut off his hand before killing her. Killian wouldn't tell her any particulars, but Emma knew that he'd spent many years seeking revenge.
Parts of Emma wanted to tell Killian about her life after Graham, about the three short years she had spent among her birth parents, but she didn't trust the pirate enough not to turn her in. The price on her was enough to make a man weep, let alone a pirate.
I'll do well to remember that, she'd said weeks ago, and she had stuck to it, but she'd been silent for eleven years. Emma didn't know if she could keep it inside any longer. She decided to sleep on her thoughts, hoping rest would give her answers.
"Granny," Emma called, hugging a knitted blanket around her thin shoulders. "Who's coming up the lane with Ruby?"
Her new saviour was walking toward the front door of the cabin, two figures shrouded in cloaks behind her. Emma couldn't see anyone's face, but they seemed familiar somehow, their white cloaks luminescent amid the snow. Emma watched them draw closer through the thick panes of glass.
"Come away from the window now, child, you'll find out soon enough," the old widow told her, ushering her over to the small sitting area, a fire blazing. Granny's hands were shaking fiercely and Emma wondered what could make the strong woman so afraid. She watched as Granny went back to the door, opening it to usher her grandchild and party in. "Hang your cloaks, all, I've got a warm soup waiting and many a blanket."
"Thank you, Granny," Ruby said cheerfully, shaking the cold wind from her bones. She discarded her winter cloak but kept the red one on, as she always did. "Come, Snow, she's just over here."
Emma kept her eyes trained on Ruby, confused about the strangers behind her.
The woman had the darkest hair she'd ever seen, all of it tied back in an intricate braid, her pale face exposed. She had kind eyes and high cheeks, her lips very pink and pulled into a smile as she made eye contact with Emma. The man beside her was just as breathtaking, with golden hair and a strong jaw. He, too, had a peculiar look on his face, his blue gaze trained on Emma.
"Hello," the woman said wistfully, coming slowly to where Emma sat. "My name is Snow."
"Emma," she replied, eyes flicking between the couple. "Emma Swan."
"It's very nice to meet you, Emma."
...
"Ruby, where are we going?" Emma asked her companion as their carriage raced through the forest.
"To see a man who could help us defeat Regina," Ruby replied solemnly. She sighed, rubbing her gloved hands together. "As I'm sure Snow and David have explained, they plan to take back the kingdom from Regina, but our forces aren't strong enough against her dark magic."
"We've dealt with this man before, and while it's questionable if he can be trusted, he's proposed a deal that could help us win," Ruby finished, her strong eyes trained on Emma.
"What deal?"
"He's offered to teach you magic, as long as you marry his son."
...
She killed Regina the night of her wedding, her hands still swimming with magic hours later. The Evil Queen, who had a penchant for crashing such occasions, attempted to murder Snow once and for all, but Emma's light magic had saved the kingdom, just after saying, "I do."
It had all been too much to believe, the young girl crumpled at the foot of the Evil Queen's body, a silent crowd of black knights gathering. They all dropped their swords and shucked their helmets, bowing before the crying princess.
Neal picked her small body from the floor, carrying her away from Regina's lifeless form, the revelry finally breaking out, all cheering Emma's name. She peered through her ruined hair to see them all yelling and thrusting fists into the air.
"Don't listen," Neal whispered, carrying her out the doors of his father's ballroom and to their chambers. Her fiance, now husband, had never hidden his disgust for the war that raged between the dark and light, considering especially his father's role. The sorcerer was on neither side, only enjoyed watching it all play out.
"I didn't want to kill her," Emma cried as they found their rooms.
"But you did, Emma. And now the war is over," he told her, setting her down. He took her small face in his hands. He was a few years older than she and often offered comfort like this. Graham had been a child like her, not a lover. "We can start our life now, I promise."
Henry was born a year later, and Neal was dead.
"Emma!"
She woke to canonfire, the blasts ear-shattering. Killian was standing over her, shaking her awake. His eyes were crazed, his bare chest heaving as he yelled her name. She tried to touch him and push his hand off her, but he swore when her hand came in contact, leaving behind red flesh.
Emma realized after doing so that she had burned him, her hands alight with magic. She tried to hide them, quickly thrusting them under the blankets, but Killian grabbed one of her wrists. He yanked her hand into sight, face falling as he watched them crackle with years of unused magic.
"Swan," he said dumbly. "You've magic."
For the first time in many years, Emma began to cry.
END PART ONE
this is very au so i'll just sort of explain my timeline bc it's very different lol. the beginning of the verse is the same as in ouat, everybody's getting fucked over by regina, but instead of emma being sent through the wardrobe, she's given to ruby to hide. all this time agrabah has been taken over by jafar, and he kidnaps emma, not knowing who she is, and gives her to a random family.
emma lives and travels with the swans until she's eight, then they die and she joins robin hood's crew. at fourteen her and graham run away to be married, he dies a few weeks later. after that she escape's regina's forest and find's ruby and granny's cottage, where she stays until ruby figures out who she is. after that, she meets her parents, and trains with rumplestiltskin in private until she is strong enough to defeat regina.
on the night of her wedding to neal (after neverland he goes back to the enchanted forest, just assume rumple was able to save him), she kills regina. she's then pregnant with henry, and during that time there's another ogre war. neal goes off to fight and dies just before henry is born. emma gives birth at eighteen and runs away. she stows away on a cargo ship and travels, eventually settling in tortuga. six years later the fic begins.
i'll sort of outline the fic's events at the end of the next part if anyone is confused.
thanks for reading!
