Story: The Betrothed

Author: Lunalight

There goes my baby
Movin' on down the line
Wonder where, wonder where
Wonder where she is bound?

The first time Killian met Emma he was on the verge of becoming ten and she was screaming at the top of her newly born lungs. He shifted next to his mother uncomfortably, little Emma was extremely loud, her pale cheeks turning a devastating shade of pink as tears leaked down from her eyes.

"Isn't she just darling, Killian? Your future queen." His mother mused in his ear. He didn't know what to think, all he saw before him was a little obnoxious baby, screaming about, hurting his ears. In that moment, looking down at her, he wanted nothing more than to jam a biscuit in her mouth. He pondered for a brief second on asking his mum if it would be alright if he left to play swords with his friends Jefferson and Graham, who only lived a short mile from the castle. However, before any request to leave left his mouth, the nurse had already picked up Princess Emma, wrapped her around a warm blanket, and shoved the baby gracefully into his arms. To his surprise she stopped crying. Thank the heavens…

Looking down at the baby who snuggled her face against his chest, he felt something shift inside of him, she wasn't so bad after all. And then she turned her face to look upon him, the deepest blue eyes he had ever seen staring at him in complete awe. She wasn't so bad.


The second time Killian had seen Emma, he was sixteen and she was six, a troublesome little thing she was, picking at roses even when they had thorns, thick and sharp, in clear view. She didn't care though, the Queen and King had invited his family over for dinner, and while the grownups chatted about business and politics, his mother had suggested he'd take Emma out to the garden and entertain her. He didn't refuse, though now he wished he did, once they hit ground level she was off, like a tornado, incapable of being still. She was out of sight for some time, quickly he grew worried, that is until he heard crying. It was soft crying, almost muffled, once he located her next to the rose bushes he slowly made his way to her.

"Princess Emma, why do you cry?"

She turns to him, her sobs now silent and holds up her bleeding finger. He shakes his head at her, "You should stay clear of those thorns, lucky for you it was just your finger you pricked." He said to her before tearing off a piece of cloth from his shirt. Slowly he tied the cloth around her finger. Emma's heart swelled.

"Better?" He asked.

She breathed in and nodded, "Thank you."


The third time he had seen Emma, or rather she had seen him, he was twenty-two and she was twelve. The day was gloriously sunny and she was having a picnic with lady Ruby and princess Aurora while he was on the field, practicing archery.

"What do you mean you've never been kissed?" Ruby asked, rather too loudly.

Emma blushed, a little embarrassed, "I never have. It's not so unlikely that I've never kissed anyone. Have you Aurora?" Emma asked, desperately trying to divert attention from herself.

Aurora caught off guard, choked a little on the tea she was sipping. Whipping her mouth clear, she shook her head, "No. I've never kissed anyone." she confessed.

"See," Emma said, nodding her head towards Aurora, "Besides, ladies should be proper. We shouldn't lend our kisses or sell them away. They should be saved for our husband. You'll do good to remember that." Emma said.

Ruby rolled her eyes, "Do you honestly believe that Killian has never kissed anyone? He's very handsome, you know. I'm sure any willing lady would be happy to oblige." Ruby teased, her face turning to look upon Killian out on the field.

Emma's eyes narrowed at Ruby, "She isn't a lady if she's so willing."

"If you say so, your Highness." Ruby whispered, her eyes never leaving the Prince.

Emma frowned, her eyes landing on Killian who had just fired a shot, his arrow, impressively landing on the target perfectly.


The fourth time he had seen Emma, she was fifteen and he was twenty-five. He had been away with his brother, traveling the sea for some time on the order of the King. He had gone on the grand quest to Neverland. When they finally returned, they were greeted with a banquet in their honor.

Killian had to admit, when his eyes landed on Emma, he didn't recognize her. She had grown, that much was evident in her appearance. Her legs were longer, her hair golden, shoulders sharper and breasts more round and full. Emma was leaving childhood behind and entering into womanhood. It was even more clear that Emma was a modern lady physically able to be courted when a few of his shipmates crowded around the Princess and the Queen, eyes hungry, like wolves. "My Queen, your daughter, I presume?" One of them asked. He didn't know why, but something inside of him snapped, grew possessive and annoyed.

"My betrothed." He said, loudly, making sure everyone around him could hear his declaration. As soon as the words left his mouth Emma blushed crimson red, Snow - the Queen, smiled, as if in his favor, and the eyes of the wolves all landed on the floor, parting quickly.

"Take a walk with me, my Lady." Killian whispered to Emma. She nodded, taking his arm as they walked.

"How have your travels been at sea, my Lord? Come across any mermaids?" Emma asked, quite curious.

"Yes."

Emma's grip on his arm tightened.

"Did you really? How exciting." Emma beamed.

Killian's eyebrows knotted together in bewilderment, she wasn't like most women.

"Does that not frighten you, my Grace?" Killian asked.

"Not at all. I find it rather exhilarating coming across such creatures. Mother and Father would never allow me to travel at sea, fearing for my life even with an army by my side. I envy you." Emma confessed.

"Nothing to envy, my Lady, I assure you it is my duty to assist." he said.

"There must be something you love about travel…"

"I do. The sea, it is my greatest friend. It is not so much the destination itself, but the waves of the ocean. It has a power over me, serenity overcomes me. I wish to travel, but not for the glory of my tasks, but for the pleasure of being upon a ship."

Emma listened to him intently, "It sounds wonderful. One day, you must plea with my parents to allow me to come along."

"And if you come along only you and I, and we stumble across pirates, what then Princess?" He challenged her.

"Is that suppose to frighten me? With you by my side I do not feel fear."

"What do you feel?" he asked.

"That you would protect me." She said, stopping in her tracks, staring up at him, "Even if it meant you'd lose a hand in the process." she said, bold and sure of herself.

He stayed quiet before a smile burned across his lips, "For you, I would lose both. If not more."


The fifth time Killian had seen Emma, she was eighteen and he was twenty-eight. She had been sending him letters for some time, asking him about life at sea and bestowing upon him tales of her life at the castle. She had amused him when she wrote about how hard it was for her to persuade her parents to grant her the privilege of sword training. Her father, David, did not find it very proper for a princess to handle such weaponry, but her mother insisted that a time will come when Emma must know how protect herself against the worst. And it was settled. The latest letter he received from her was prompt with mischief, she challenged him to a duel, as if he could resist, he accepted.

She had bested him twice, leaving him with blood on his shoulder. "Do you surrender?" Emma teased him, her sword pointed solemnly at his neck.

"Never!" He shouted, staring at her intensely, willing her to strike. "Then you're a fool." she said before she lunged her sword down on the ground beside his face. His eyes grew wide, astonished, but before she could jump in victory, he took the opportunity to maneuver his foot underneath her legs, forcing her to fall forward and topple over him. He moved quickly, both bodies rolling over the grass before coming to a halt, his weight over hers, the knife he kept in his pocket at her neck. "Do you surrender?" He asked, a smirk spreading across his lips. Emma quivered beneath him, the proximity between their bodies releasing a flame, leaving her breathless, her skin sizzling with want and her throat dry with desire. Swallowing she smiled, "Never." she breathed out.

His smirk fell to a small frown. He could feel her heat sizzle from her like a wildfire, unexpected, warm and dangerous. Her face was only an inch away, leaving his heart hammering, his rib-cage aching and his tongue itching for a taste. He had fancied the princess and willingly accepted marriage out of duty, but this, this was something different, this was something he didn't owe to his parents or his people, this was something he owed to himself. Leaning down he captured her lips, his knife still held at her neck. She tasted like raspberries, soft, sweet, comforting - like a breath of fresh air. His mouth lingered on hers and when she didn't object or make any movements to push him away he boldly opened his mouth as she did and joined his tongue with hers. She tasted innocent, pure, and yet, intoxicating, almost forbidden. Their saliva mixed as he groaned; her mouth was delightfully warm. Like a bucket of cold water, his body responded to the act, planting suggestive thoughts in his head - growing hard in places he'd be ashamed for her to feel, quickly he pulled away from her mouth and pushed himself up and off the ground. Turning away from her he left without a word. Emma sat up, covering her mouth with her hands in shock, her heart slamming in her chest, eyes wet from unwanted tears. They weren't meant to surrender.


The sixth time Killian had seen Emma, it had been only a week since their duel. He had come to the castle to offer her a ride through the park and possibly have brunch together. He had been rude when he left her without a word before and he hadn't slept one damn night since. When one of her ladies-in-waiting told him that she had left to swim in the lake outside of the castle, he went quickly in search of her. When he found her though, he was surprised to find that she was swimming, one by herself, two with no one watching her.

Where were all the guards?

As he approached he also came to notice as Emma climbed out of the lake that she was wearing an extremely thin dress, one that was clearly see through and showed every inch of her wet flesh as the offending cloth clung to her body like a second skin. He stopped dead in his tracks, his mouth gone dry, his thoughts gone south. She was stunning, naturally beautiful, a Goddess among men. Like a coward, he hid in a near by bush, unaware that the princess had spotted him. Pretending that she hadn't seen him she started to strip. And there he stood behind a bush, watching her (like a perverted man or lustful teenager, he couldn't decide which) as she changed into a nice dry dress and then walked away, her head held impossibly high. Leaving him sore in his trousers and numb in the mouth, forgetting all about why he had come in search of her.


The seventh time Killian had seen Emma, it had only been a month or so since their duel (and that fateful lake moment). There had been an attack at his castle, outlaws out for blood to hurt the treaty. He'd been wounded, badly, a sword to the stomach. They kept him away in a secure room, full of guards, nurses and closed windows. By law they allowed her in and once Emma saw sight of Killian on the bed, sweating, looking alarmingly pale, she gave a demand to be in the room alone with her betrothed. She used her basic nurturing instincts to help him, cold cloths to the forehead, pampering him with clean sheets and when she sat beside him she took out a tiny vial, fueled with lavender, lilies, and her own special medicine to heal. She helped him sit up properly, before leaning his head back and pouring the vial in his mouth. "There you go, my Lord, you'll feel better soon. I promise." She told him as he slipped into unconsciousness. She stayed by his side as he slipped in and out of conscious state, her face the first and the last he sees before sleep overwhelms him.

Beside him is where she stayed, mending to his every will and need. She allowed the nurses back in to help her wash him and change his bandages and when he thirsted she fetched him water.

Days passed and he healed little by little. From time to time he could feel her fingers brush through his hair, her hand holding his, and that is when it happened, he fell in love, each moment falling harder than the last. He had fancied her, thought her beautiful, but now as he lay in his bed, death now far from him, he felt new life mold within his heart, warmed by her light, his love growing strong, blossoming as she stayed by him. His queen and savior.


She was twenty and he was thirty when their wedding day had come. It had been a sunny day, with flowers of all kind, white willows, ice sculptures and fireworks at bay. He wasn't suppose to see her, it was against tradition to see her, but he took his chance, dodged his men and her ladies, just to be close to her. She was behind her door, holding her back against it, stubbornly she didn't budge.

"You're breaking the rules by being here, my Lord, do you wish to curse us with bad luck?" She asked.

"No, though I'd take the risk just to see your face once before the ceremony." He said, pressing his face against the door.

"You gamble with trouble, with all the patience you can gather, go from me."

"Not until you hear what I have to say."

Emma pressed her face against the door, breathing deeply, she nodded, "I'm listening."

"There has not been a moment I had alone with you since my injury a few years back. Therefore, I was never able to tell you what I wanted to. In all honesty, it is possible that I've been afraid of this revelation."

Emma's heart sunk, her palms sweating from nerves, "And what revelation has been brought upon you, my Lord?"

"I love you." he stated, the words leaving his mouth casually, as if he's been telling her he loved her all of his life. Her heart beamed, tears gathering in her eyes from his confession. "The time has come to be wed, not out of duty, but now, out of love. I have seen many things through my travels. Many dangerous I've come up against, and yet, I do not fear for my future anymore, nor for the future of my people. Knowing you will be their queen they are sure to be blessed with good fortune and leadership. I do not ask you to return my love, only that you do not turn away from me and allow me the chance to make you happy, to claim your heart like you have claimed mine."

Emma bit her tongue, she desperately wanted to say the words that were dying to leave her mouth, the words that were pressed up against her lips, pleading for permission to escape. Instead she swallowed and said nothing; continuing to stare, completely dazed, at the wooden door in front of her.

Killian on the other side did not move nor dared to breathe, closing his eyes he said it once more, "I love you."

Nodding her head, tears escaping, she said the only words that were clever enough to leave her lips. "I know."


Killian was thirty-one when he looked down at Princess Elizabeth Jones. She was a quiet little bundle of joy, made up of pale skin, pink cheeks and deep blue ocean eyes. She lay in her crib, lovely, mellow, with the sharpest black eyebrows known to mankind. She moved around in her pink and white lace crib, looking up at her father in wonder.

"And do you know what the prince said to the pirate?" Killian asked her, twirling the little cotton sword in his hand, "He said release her now or I'll have your head!" Killian exclaimed, moving around her crib, waving the cotton sword about, "Then the prince made good with his word and defeated the pirate! Rescuing the princess. But it wasn't over yet - no - the prince came up against something he did not foresee. A crocodile." he said.

Elizabeth smiled, drool leaking down her lips to her chin as a screech of giggles left her mouth. "The prince, sadly, was defeated, losing his hand in the process." Killian continued, taking out a hook from his pocket and showing it off to his daughter, "But, the prince was wise, choosing to take a hook for a hand he planted it deeply within the crocodile's head. Killing it! Defeating it! Saving the day!" Killian explained shaking the hook around and laughing furiously, earning yet another giggle from his daughter.

"And then what happened?" A familiar voice said. Turning around Killian faced his wife; who was leaning against the door of the nursery.

Killian looked back to his daughter, shoving the hook away in his pocket, "And then the prince returned home and married the love of his life. Spending the rest of his days with her and their child."

Emma smiled as she walked over to her husband, caressing his cheek before turning her attention to their daughter. "She loves your stories." Emma said, smiling down at her baby.

"She has yet to know what I speak of."

"No, I believe she knows exactly what you are saying. You entertain her and she loves you for it." Emma said.

"Like mother like daughter." Killian teased, his arms wrapping around his wife's waist. Effortlessly, she leans back into his embrace.

"Just one daughter?" Emma questions.

"Not if the Queen wishes for many more."

"I want an ocean of children."

"I can arrange that."

Emma giggles, "I love you."

Killian kisses her cheek. "I know."

Fin


Notes:

Soundtrack for this gem: "There Goes My Baby." - The Drifters.

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