Title: Fold Your Wings
Author: Roguie
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Pairing: Hook/Emma
Rating: K+
Spoilers: No, but I've seen all the episodes, so maybe.
Summary: Twice before he'd seen these symptoms in the people he loved most; twice before they were torn from his very arms while he was helpless to save them. In his heart he knows no destiny could be cruel enough to make him repeat this a third time, so he smiles and leaves her the secret she's trying to keep.
Disclaimer: Once Upon a Time does not belong to me. If it did, well let's say there would have been public indecency tickets handed out at Granny's on Sunday night. But alas, since it's not aired on HBO and I'm not paid anything for what I do with it, I can safely say, it wasn't me!
A/N: Fluffy fluff fluff fluff. Fluff. Fluff. Fluff. Basically, this entire conversation is what my muse is giving me rather than working on my proper fics of angst and smut. It seems to be the only word she knows right now. Go ahead. Have a conversation with her. Fluff is all you'll get. Iow: not my usual fair, no warnings apply, just a happy sopping fic of insurmountable sopping fluffiness. As to the final line of this, forgive me, I practically live on tumblr these days. I absolutely had to... there was no other choice.
~~~?~~~
He breathed evenly, never allowing his eyes to flutter, never allowing her even an inkling she'd awakened him when she'd lurched from their bed so early in the dawn for the fourth morning in a row. He wasn't blind, he wasn't uneducated; in this particular instance he wasn't even inexperienced, though he often prayed he had been.
He waited until he heard the sounds of running water and the tell tale scrub of bristle over teeth before he shifted his position, stretching out on his side, pulling back the covers to her side of the bed so that she could easily slip back into place when she returned. He didn't have to wait long; she tiptoed quietly across the room, edging back under their blanket, smelling of mint toothpaste and mouthwash as she groaned quietly, unable to find a comfortable position.
He shifted closer to her, sliding his hand over her stomach and up to cup a breast that no longer fit quite as perfectly in his palm. "Everything all right, love?" he whispered quietly, hot breath brushing her ear, forcing a well trained shiver to slip down her spine.
"Fine. Sorry I woke you. I was trying to be quiet." Her voice held no softness, no humour as she relaxed back against him, her lower back aching in a discomfort she'd not been able to get rid of in over two weeks.
"Pirate, remember? The creaking oak by the window wakes me." He pressed his lips to the top of her head, breathing her in deeply. "Still not outrun the illness that's been plaguing you, Swan?" He tried to keep the tell-tale knowledge from his voice, realizing he failed only when she glanced at him over her shoulder and lifted a curious eyebrow.
"Obviously."
"Hmm."
He released her without word as she struggled to find some angle that would allow her enough comfort to close her eyes once more. He watched her for a few silent minutes, each time abandoning the position she'd found and trying a new one, before his warm hand came to rest against her spine and he gently pushed her forward. "Tuck your pillow up to take the pressure off your breasts, love, and roll to your stomach."
She eyed him suspiciously; he responded merely with a silent lift of his eyebrow and a gentle push of his fingers until she adjusted herself the way he wanted.
"There we go," he murmured, beginning to rub a gentle pattern of warm circles over her lower back. He pressed neither too deeply nor too light, it wasn't meant as a massage but as a warmth and a comfort to the ache she hadn't mentioned.
She groaned quietly, her eyes fluttering closed against the morning rise of the sun. "There is no way you're this perfect."
He chuckled softly, never stopping the low pressure of his fingertips. "I've lived a long time, love, you'd face great difficulty in finding something I've not dealt with in the past. Just allow me to give you some small measure of comfort, Emma, and fall back to sleep. It's early and you've not slept a night through in a week."
"You're far too observant, you know that, Jones?"
A wry grin curved his lips, his soft snort ruffling her hair. "Far more than you know, my dear. Now rest. Captain's orders."
It didn't take her long to fall back into a peaceful sleep. Once her breathing evened out and he was sure she was far past waking again, he shifted away from her warm body, chuckling quietly when she instinctively shifted to her back to follow his departure. He slipped closer once again, his fingers resting on the flat expanse of her stomach where her tank top had risen as she'd shifted.
"You're stubborn, love," he whispered into her hair, "Not seeing what's right in front of you. But you'll not be able to fool yourself for long."
He'd been through these signs twice before. Once when he was nothing more than a child, watching his mother with a worried eye as no meal seemed to settle well in her stomach. Liam, so much older than himself, took to comforting her when needed, but they'd both laid in bed with her when she was uncomfortable, and they'd both learned well how to ease the pain of the growing babe inside her. He'd lost her mere months later trying to birth his sister, the babe laying cold in her belly as she lay cold in his brother's arms. His father had come home weeks later to find the brothers huddling together for warmth and comfort, on the verge of starvation. They were sold come morning and life had carried on, but Killian never forgot those months of laying at his mother's side, being her rock within discomfort.
The second time he'd lain next to a woman as the early stress of pregnancy stole away her ability to sleep late in the night, he'd prefer to forget. He'd long since pushed away the pain of her passing, Emma's presence in his life enough to allow his battered heart the healing he'd denied himself throughout centuries, but the loss of the babe was something he'd not soon forget. Much like Emma, Milah denied the symptoms for weeks. A pirate's ship was not the place for raising young, the adventures that she so loved to have would be put on hold, the life they'd built around them would carry on without her. Even when she could no longer deny the life growing in her womb, she'd not said. Killian would never know what kept her quiet, whether it be fear he'd ground her before she was ready, or perhaps fear he'd leave her to raise the child alone. Instead he allowed her her secret, never pushing her to say the words, merely laying with her at night and bringing back the skills he'd learned as a child to help bring her a measure of rest. When the Dark One came for them, he'd torn two hearts from Killian's life without ever knowing. In three hundred years, the words had never been spoken aloud, keeping the existence of that babe from becoming a reality to anyone but the pirate himself.
He shifted down the bed, careful not to disturb Emma, leaning against his stump a breath's distance from her stomach. His fingertips gently traced random spirals across the skin there, a small smile curving his lips as he thought of the young one sleeping within.
"Rest easy, little heart," he whispered, his voice rough with emotions long buried. "History shall not repeat itself thrice. You have my sworn oath."
In the growing light of dawn he sang to his child with a voice he'd not used in centuries. His voice was pure and true, his eyes shining a bright blue filled with emotions no words could describe. At first the words came hesitant, the tune all that he remembered, but soon the memory of his mother's voice joined with his and the words returned as if he'd heard them only yesterday.
"Oh, hush thee my dove, oh, hush thee my sweet love,
Oh, hush thee my lap wing, my dear little bird.
Oh, fold your wings and seek out your nest now,
The berries shine on the old rowan tree.
The bird is home from the hills and valleys.
Oh, hush thee my dove, oh, hush thee my sweet love,
Oh, hush thee my rowan, my dear little bird."
He closed his eyes tightly against the emotion that tried to break free, Emma's soft, warm skin beneath his fingers a warm comfort as he struggled to put old demons back where they belonged. Emma was not his mother, nor was she his Milah; in this town, in this place, regardless of the constant peril they all seemed to find themselves in, there was an intricate weaving of bloodlines that offered more strength and protection than he'd known throughout his life. His child would be safe. This child would see the life its aunt and sibling had not.
Trembling fingers weaved into his hair, her stomach rising and falling in sharp gasps beneath his touch. He swallowed thickly, moving to rest his head upon her ribs, holding her to him tightly.
"I have an appointment with Whale this afternoon," she whispered, stroking his head with the lightest touch she could handle. "I wanted to wait to say anything until I was sure."
"Can't hide a thing from me, love," He gave a good impression of wry humour, only the rough cracking of his words betraying the depth of emotion that ran beneath.
"Damned observant pirate."
"And glad of it. You should be too, Swan, as I'd be only one that could handle a damned stubborn princess like yourself."
"In your dreams."
"Oh, frequently." Finally he lifted his head to meet her eyes, allowing her to see the sea of emotion swirling within the ocean blue depths.
Tears sprang immediately to her eyes as her fingers tightened in his hair, her free hand moving to cover his over her stomach. "You'll come with me to see Whale?"
"Aye." He pressed a soft kiss to her ribs, watching her face closely for any sign of the fear that had once driven her so ruthlessly.
Something broke in her eyes as she met his gaze, the green swirling and blending until they were an entirely new shade, something truly only her own. "You're stuck with me for life, now, I hope you realize." They weren't the words she wanted to say, but the message was clear and by the way her pirate immediately melted against her body, well received at that.
"Oh, thank the bloody gods," he breathed, sitting up without warning and dragging her into his arms, covering her mouth with his own before she had a chance to protest. "My princess," he winked at her saucily when he pulled back to take a much needed breath.
"Really, we're going there?"
He grinned from ear to ear, kissing her again before placing a hand over her stomach pointedly. "And my little prince."
Emma scoffed, pushing his hand away and sitting up as straight a she could, offering him her sternest glare. "It'll be a girl just to put you in your place, pirate."
"Aye, and what a girl she'll be. Can see her now, captaining a ship full of men who dare not cross her for fear of her great and endless wrath. Just like her own mother's." His eyes sparkled brilliantly as he crawled across the bed after his retreating princess, capturing her ankle and pulling her beneath him, burying his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in deeply.
"Wrath you'll be feeling soon if you don't let me up."
"Mmm, and what if I like to feel your wrath, darling?"
Her own laughter surprised her, that giddy, carefree sound of pure joy that filled the room and was immediately echoed by his own. "You'll feel it once I get out of this bed. I've got one kid to get to school and another determined to starve me to death. Get used to coming in third around here, Jones."
He stole one more long kiss from her, nipping at her bottom lip lightly before rolling away and allowing her to stretch before climbing from their sheets. "I'll look forward to every moment of my impending abandonment, Swan."
"Who knew the great and fearsome pirate was such a cheese ball," she muttered as she pulled a pair of tights over her panties and moved easily out of their bedroom, leaving Killian staring after her in confusion.
"I know the cravings start early, love, but what in the name of the gods does a ball of cheese have to do with me?"
A pair of clean jeans came flying through the door, slapping him in the head as she moved on to wake the boy from his sleep. Killian chuckled quietly to himself, moving out of bed and sliding the heavy denim over his legs.
Up until this point, life had been hesitant in giving Killian Jones anything that even briefly resembled happiness. This morning proved only that the winds of change were at last upon him. After all, life couldn't get any better than sharing it with a princess that now truly did have a little pirate in her.
~~~Fin~~~
Much like magic, all muses come with a price. My muse's price is that little box down below. Please don't make her chase you for payment, it's such a bloody awful waste of her time.