Looks like Part 2 got away from me a bit. Thanks for reading!


She trudges down the small slope that leads to the castle gates and wraps her cloak around her a little tighter. Autumn has come quickly this year, a light breeze tangling with her hair and causing her loose curls to brush against her face. She smiles in the moonlight and breathes deep, letting the fresh air wash over her.

She nods at the castle guards stationed at the gate and they exchange a glance before nodding back. A grin pulls at her lips. "Relax, my parents know where I'm headed this time."

They both sag with relief and she chuckles lightly. The tavern she is intent on spending her evening in is situated in the middle of the village and is maintained by the dwarves. And while her father doesn't like her going alone, her mother likes to argue that she is safer there than within the walls of the castle.

Seven overprotective godfathers armed with pickaxes tended to make a girl feel secure.

She pulls up her hood against the chill as she walks the familiar path to the tavern, her mind drifting to dark hair and blue eyes almost unconsciously. She visibly winces and stops dead in the street, shaking her head hard.

She will not think of him.

She has successfully avoided him for the past three days, going down to the kitchens when she knew he wasn't working, not even bothering to go anywhere near the docks. Going to the tavern is a definite risk, but she can't avoid him forever.

She doesn't miss him.

She sighs and ducks into the warm light of the tavern, a smile tugging at her lips as raucous noise washes over her. Grumpy is behind the bar and she decides to slide onto an empty stool instead of going for her usual booth. She doesn't even let her eyes drift over to it, her heart jumping up to her throat at the idea that he could very-well be sitting there.

She doesn't care if he is.

"What'll it be, Princess? Last time I gave you rum, the King practically beheaded me in the town square." Grumpy is glaring at her but his eyes are dancing and she gives him a wide grin.

She leans forward, elbows resting on the bar. "What Dad doesn't know, won't hurt him." She whispers conspiratorially, ending her sentence with a wink. Grumpy laughs deeply and she is pleased with herself for garnering such a reaction. Grumpy is no casual nickname.

"You remind me of your mother during her bandit days." He grabs the bottle of rum from under the bar and pours her a healthy glass. She smiles at him warmly, the glass cradled between her hands. He pours himself a glass and knocks it against hers.

"To family." Her chest warms at the sureness of his words and she nods.

"To family." She responds softly and takes a sip of her rum. He winks before disappearing to the other side of the bar, smacking Happy on the back of the head on his way.

"You've been avoiding me." She jumps at the lilting voice suddenly in her ear.

She turns her head to find Killian resting with his back against the bar, elbows casually leaning against the worn wood. The skin around his eye has turned a sickly purple color, making his eyes appear even bluer, if possible, and she snorts into her glass. Naturally her mind would go there.

He peers down at her, clearly unamused. "Something funny?"

She sighs and finally meets his gaze, green eyes locking on blue. He looks at her carefully for a moment before his whole face relaxes. He mirrors her sigh, turns and slides into the stool next to her.

He picks at the wood of the bar in silence and then abruptly reaches over her arms and grabs her glass.

"Hey!" She goes to snatch it back but he pulls it to his lips and takes a large gulp, quirking an eyebrow at her in challenge. She rolls her eyes as he hands it back to her with a mock bow.

"You know, we are in a bar. You could quite easily get your own."

He rubs his fingers across his lips as his eyes shoot to Grumpy, slamming bottles around and glaring at the customers.

"I do think I'll wait until your godfather is a bit more hospitable." He turns his attention to her and she can practically feel his gaze on the side of her face. She does her best to remain passive, sipping gently at her rum.

"You've been avoiding me." He says again, gentler this time. She fights the urge to slam back the rest of her drink and just reach under the bar for the bottle. He always was good at reading her, even when they were little. Not that she had been particularly stealthy with her avoidance of him, but nonetheless -

"I didn't know she was assigned to your quarters." His voice is so earnest, so unsure, so unlike himself, that she freezes. It's an admission that he did indeed sleep with one of her maids and she feels her stomach drop to somewhere in her toes. She feels her walls come up hard and her heart squeezes tight that she has to put them up with him.

Grumpy chooses that moment to return to their side of the bar and she gives him a tight smile when his eyes dart back and forth between her and Killian. She throws back the rest of her drink and slides her glass to the edge.

"I'll have another, please. And he will have one of his own." She shoots Killian a pointed look and he relaxes fractionally, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He knows that if she's bringing the sass, he's at least a little bit forgiven. Grumpy fills their drinks and moves down the line, shooting Killian a wary look over his shoulder.

Emma sighs. "Listen, I meant it, when I said I don't care who you choose to spend your time with." Or what you do with them. She decides not to add that last part, the words getting caught in her throat. She soldiers on, steadfastly ignoring his gaze. "Just give me a heads up next time, so I don't wait around?"

Alone.

In the rain.

Her mind is not really helping at the moment.

He winces at the reminder that he left her alone while he was engaging in other activities.

"Aye." He scratches the back of his head and fumbles with his glass. "I'm sorry, lass, that was, uh-" And it is so unlike him to stutter and lose his words that she finally turns to look at him. He is frowning, eyes shifting back and forth. He sighs and looks at her. "That was bad form. I'm truly sorry, Emma."

She knows he means it. Not only because he used her first name but because she knows he would never intentionally leave her alone. He knows what that feels like.

But he still did. And it still hurts. She reinforces her walls as he looks at her and the frown grows deeper, blue eyes searching. He opens his mouth and his hand reaches forward, eyebrows cinching together.

"Emma!"

Ruby's voice calls over the loud chatter of the tavern and she tears her gaze away from Killian, looking over the now crowded room to see Ruby, Victor and Baelfire huddled together at a table. Ruby grins and beckons them over and Emma forces a smile.

She grabs her glass and his arm, pulling him off his stool, determined to get things back to normal between them. She gives him a small smile and he forces one back. It'd have to do.

"Come on, Ruby doesn't like to be kept waiting."

-/-

She laughs loud, pushing Baelfire hard on the shoulder.

"He did not!"

Baelfire grins wide, taking a swig of his drink, nodding eagerly. She laughs again, clutching her stomach as tears gather in her eyes. Bae leans into her side heavily and her laughter fades into an easy smile, welcoming the warmth. While she is feeling a pleasant buzz from the rum, Bae is quite obviously drunk off his ass.

It's kind of cute.

"I think its time for you to be off, mate." Emma snaps her eyes up to Killian across the table and he is glaring daggers at Baelfire. She arches an eyebrow at him in question but he avoids her gaze by steadily trying to set fire to Bae with his eyes.

Bae leans up off her shoulder and nods slowly, seemingly realizing his level of drunkenness in the moment. "Yeah, I think you're right."

He grins lazily and attempts to stand, but stumbles back down into his seat, leaning into her once again. He rests his forehead against her shoulder and sighs heavily, like getting up and moving is possibly the hardest things he has ever had to do.

She laughs and grips his arm, standing and pulling him with her. He looks at her with big brown eyes and tilts his head. "You're pretty." He says.

Oh yes, he is definitely drunk.

She rolls her eyes but can't help the blush that stains her cheeks, drunken compliment or no. Killian makes an odd noise but she ignores it, instead focusing on maneuvering Baelfire out of his chair and around the table. "Come on, Drunky. I should head back to the castle. I can drop you off on the way."

She picks up her cloak as Ruby tosses Baelfire his coat. He doesn't even try to catch it, letting it fall on the floor as he stares at Emma with big eyes. "You'll walk me home?"

She grins. "Yes, now let us go before you pass out and I leave you to the dwarves." She raises both eyebrows expectantly and he picks up his coat, slipping it on (backwards, but she will take what she can get).

Killian stands abruptly. "I'll walk with you." He shoots Ruby a glare when she snickers behind her hand.

Emma looks at him curiously. "I can take him by myself, you can stay." Find someone to go home with.

She wants to roll her eyes at herself but instead she settles for a heavy sigh. Baelfire leans against her and she stumbles. Killian gives her a pointed look.

"And what, drag him home when he inevitably passes out on you?" His face softens as he shrugs on his jacket. "Plus, he lives on the opposite side of the orchards. I'm sure His Highness, the King would have some choice words for me if I let you walk through them alone at night."

He steps over to them, pulling one of Baelfire's arms over his shoulder. Baelfire really looks about a minute away from passing out, and there is no way she can get him home if he does. Killian smirks at the acceptance written all over her face and they make their way to the exit.

Grumpy waves off her attempts to pay the tab and she sneaks in a quick kiss to his cheek before Killian grumbles something about 'heavy, drunk, buggering idiots' and they walk out the door.

They move slow through the town and Baelfire passes out completely at the start of the orchards, so Emma has to slip under his other arm and help Killian tow him through. She laughs loudly at Killian's furious grumbling, his curse words a steady litany through the dark groves of trees.

They eventually get him to his home, dropping him unceremoniously on the doorstep. Killian gives her a wicked smile and knocks loudly before grabbing her arm and sprinting back into the trees.

She laughs loudly as they weave through the trees and he turns quickly, putting his hand against her mouth. She laughs harder and he smiles down at her, his grin bright and boyish.

"Hush, wouldn't want the Royal Princess to get caught." He waggles his eyebrows and she licks his hand. He yelps and pulls it away, giving her an affronted look.

"Some royal you are."

She pokes him hard in the chest and gives him a mock glare. "And don't you forget it."

He swats her hand away and gives her another wide grin. She sighs, happy. This is nice. This is what she wanted. Them, back to normal. Laughing, joking.

So naturally she decides to do something that will ruin it all over again.

He is looking at her earnestly, his eyes losing their playful mirth and fading into something serious. He has been looking at her like that a lot lately. Mostly when he thinks she isn't looking, but she manages to catch him all the same. She still doesn't know what it means, but it makes her heart do an almost painful flop in her chest, and suddenly, she wants to kiss him.

But she can't. Because he is her friend.

Screw it.

She grabs him roughly by the lapels of his jacket and pulls him to her, her mouth landing on his clumsily. He freezes beneath her lips and for a terrible moment, she thinks he's going to push her away. Unwilling to back down (as always) she continues to kiss him, his lips soft against hers. She takes his bottom lip between hers and tilts her head, practically begging him to respond.

This is stupid, this is stupid, this is stupid.

Her mind is running frantic and her hands are shaking so she slides them forward so they are resting on the bare skin on his neck. He shudders beneath her and his lips move fractionally against hers. Her heart pounds in her chest.

She slips her mouth open and runs her tongue along the seam of his lips, desperate for more. She wants to taste, to consume. He tastes like rum and salt and she hums quietly into his mouth with pleasure, knowing he would taste like that. Knowing he would be this intoxicating.

His head ducks down as his mouth opens fully against hers and her belly clenches as his tongue tentatively tangles with hers.

He lets out a strangled moan and then suddenly, he moves.

His hands find purchase on her hips and he takes a strong step forward - one, two - and then her back is pushed up hard against one of the apple trees. She gasps into his mouth and his tongue sweeps forward, sliding against hers, hand moving from her hip to her face, angling her head to the side to plunge deeper.

Hot, hot heat coils in her stomach and she is desperate. She needs more. Of what, she is not entirely sure, but she craves it with every part of her. She fists her hand in his hair, pulling on the thick strands, pulling him even further into her. His hand clenches and unclenches on her hip before sliding down her thigh to the back of her knee. A trail of white hot fire follows his hand and her heart is racing.

He pulls up on her knee and she wraps her leg instinctively around him, her hips falling open, his own falling perfectly in line with hers. She nips at his lip and he growls, pushing his hips forward hard.

And this, she think idly, somewhere far in the back of her lust-clouded brain, this is not unlike their training lessons. With obvious exception, of course.

Her mouth drops open when he moves to her neck, teeth scraping against her pulse point, the hand not holding her head in place sliding slowly up her thigh. The heat is coiling tighter and damnit, she needs-

She shifts her hips against him, and oh gods, that is what she needs.

She can feel him. All of him. And it feels so damn good.

She circles her hips again and he bites down on the soft skin between her neck and shoulder. She moans, sounding breathy and wanton and loud in the dark orchard.

He stills against her.

She can feel the hammering in his chest against hers, his labored breathing against her neck. Her eyes slide open and her gaze tilts to the stars, twinkling bright in the cloudless sky. Her mind is deliciously silent as she breathes him in. His thumb brushes against the skin of her throat as leans back, resting his forehead against hers for a moment, their breath coming out harsh and uneven. His nose grazes hers and her eyes drift shut, her hands flat against his chest.

His lips are soft on hers as he ducks down to kiss her again and the heat gives way to a warm glow, starting in her chest and spreading out.

He releases her leg and it falls to her side shakily, causing her to tilt to the right. He chuckles into the kiss and finds her hips again, righting her before she can fall.

She blinks up at him and he smiles down at her, tucking a blonde curl behind her ear. "I should get you home."

He gazes at her for a moment more, his blue eyes flickering all over her face, the look he was giving her before the kiss more intense and concentrated. But then he shakes his head slightly and its gone. He nods towards the castle. He steps back and she follows the warmth of his body almost unconsciously, falling in step with him easily.

They walk in silence, but its comfortable.

She doesn't know who takes whose hand, but his fingers are warm against hers.

Maybe she didn't mess anything up. Maybe she made everything better. She bites back a grin and they're suddenly at the castle gates. He brings her knuckles to his lip sand gives them a chaste kiss, before giving her a saucy wink, turning, and disappearing down the road.

She laughs breathlessly as she runs back up the hill to the castle.

She falls asleep with a grin.

-/-

She finds him in the kitchens the next morning, sleeves rolled up, face in intense concentration as he peels potatoes. His fingers move nimbly as he skins the potatoes with a knife before tossing them in a waiting barrel. She watches his hands and thinks about what he was doing with them last night, her face going hot.

"Hey." He jumps at her voice, gaze shooting up from the potatoes. His eyes are wary and bloodshot, and her smile drops, just a little.

She peers around the kitchen but it seems like he is the only one there. "Where's Granny?"

Killian looks back down at his potatoes, frowning deeply, twisting the knife in his hand. "We apparently need more potatoes."

Emma looks at the pile of potatoes on the table, and then the very large sack at his feet. "Are potatoes the only thing on the menu tonight?"

He doesn't acknowledge her question. In fact, he seems very lost in his own world again. She frowns and walks over to the table, ducking her head down to meet his gaze.

"Hey, are you alri-"

"I'm sorry I kissed you!" He blurts and she jumps at the sudden declaration. He runs his hand roughly through his hair and she shakes her head, confused.

"What?" He looks up at her and his whole body seems to sag. He looks miserable.

He puts down the knife and walks around to her side of the table. He sighs heavily, crossing his arms. "I'm sorry I kissed you." She blinks at him and he stares back. "I shouldn't have done that."

He's sorry. He's sorry? She kissed him. She was the one who initiated it. And he didn't seem sorry last night. In fact, he seemed pretty okay with the whole situation. Confused, she opens her mouth to question him when the door to the kitchen swings open and the maid that used to work in her quarters, that maid, comes drifting in, holding several loaves of bread.

"Killian, do you know-"

She cuts off abruptly when she sees Emma, almost dropping her loaves of bread. Killian's eyes widen fractionally and dart between the two women quickly.

Oh.

Oh.

Emma's cheeks go hot and she immediately looks down at the ground. She hears footsteps and then a door is quietly clicking shut. She assumes they had some sort of silent conversation because they are alone again and she feels absolutely horrible.

The silence is deafening.

"I'm sorry I forced myself on you." She whispers it as she looks at their feet on the ground. His boots are worn, he will probably need a new pair soon.

She can feel the pain rising up within her, clawing at her from the inside. She feebly tries to erect her walls but she can't. It's too much, too fast and she feels like she is spinning into a black pit of embarrassment.

"I think-" The tears finally tip over and she bites her lip, stubbornly refusing to look at him. She is so embarrassed, she just wants to crawl into a hole and never come out. "I think you should stay away from me for a while."

"Emma-" He breaks off and she can actually hear him swallow. "Emma, look at me." She shakes her head, watches as one of her tears falls on his boot. His hand slips under her hair and he angles her head up, forcing her to make eye contact.

Whatever he is going to say freezes in his mouth when he sees her tears. She knows he doesn't expect it because, hell, she certainly didn't. She doesn't cry often. His eyes widen and then slam shut, like he is in physical pain.

"I've made you cry."

She doesn't know what he wants her to say to that because yes, he is the reason she is standing in the kitchen, embarrassed as hell, tears falling down her cheeks. She pushes away the thought that she is absolutely broken-hearted because that is a thought too painful to bear.

Her heart is not broken.

Her heart is not broken.

If she says it enough, maybe it will come true.

He is gazing at her with impossibly sad eyes and she pulls his hand away from her face. His fingers flex like he wants to reach back out, but she doesn't give him the chance.

"Please don't follow me." She turns on her heel and pushes out the kitchen door, biting her lip hard, forcing the sobs to stay in her throat. She is terrified that he will run after her, and she will be forced to have a complete breakdown in the middle of the hallway.

She hears footsteps behind her and she speeds up, pushing the back of her hand against her mouth, biting down on the skin. Everything is blurry as the tears come hard and fast and she breathes hard through her nose.

"Emma!" But its not the voice she is expecting as she turns the corner and Lancelot is behind her, turning her around with his strong hands on her shoulders. He seems just as surprised at her tears as Killian was and he scans her quickly, no doubt looking for injuries. A laugh comes out sounding more like a pitiful sob and his alarmed eyes snap back to hers.

"What is going on?" The fiery glint he sometimes got during her training is back and he looks ready to kill. His eyes flit back behind her to the kitchen entrance.

"I'm okay, I'm okay!" She says but even she knows she sounds hysterical. "I'm going to go to my quarters."

"I'll fetch your mother." She thinks about arguing but nods instead, knowing if left unoccupied, Lancelot would most likely connect the dots and behead Killian. And as mad and embarrassed and sad as she is, she doesn't want him dead.

Lancelot gives her upper arms a squeeze before he takes off in the opposite direction. Emma trudges the rest of the way to her room, thankfully avoiding any and all castle servants. She practically face-plants into her bed, not even bothering to remove her shoes.

She barely has time to start crying again before the door to her room swings open so hard, it bounces off the wall. She is mortified to see her father come charging into her room, sword in his hand. Her mother comes skidding down the hallway behind him, swinging quickly into her room, face flushed.

She looks at both of them for a startled moment before dropping her face into her hands and finally, finally letting herself cry. She is barely aware of Snow's hushed voice before the door to her room clicks shut and she is enveloped in the warm arms of her mother.

She sits up and pushes her hair away from her face, somewhat surprised to realize her father has left them alone. She takes a deep breath and her mother brushes her hand over her hair, letting her lean her head on her shoulder. Emma snuggles in, closes her eyes.

Of course Killian didn't want her. She had practically forced herself on him last night, pulling him to her and kissing him until he had responded. He was a man, of course he responded. It didn't mean anything.

Hot shame rolls through her body and she sighs, clenching her eyes shut. It hurts to think about.

But the way he had kissed her, the way he had held her -

No.

No more.

Killian doesn't want her. So she won't want him.

She does enjoy a challenge.