Chapter 2:

The scene opened on the night's watchmen heading out on a scouting mission north of the Wall, Emma dug down into Killian's warmth as he watched them leave clad all in black as per their custom. His soft breaths were silent against her, as he observed the three men wandering the icy landscape. Emma shivered slightly, remebering all too well her last experience with ice that had left her near hyperthermic till he pulled her out of Elsa's cave. Almost instinctively, he wrapped his good hand around her middle to comfort her from the bad memories of nearly dying in the freezing temperature. The feeling of being so helpless against the urge to lay down her head and give up the will to stay awake was a thorn in her side but he always seemed to love dethorning her so she nestled closer and calmed herself in his embrace that she would never have to go through another instance like that again as long as he was by her side.

As the nights watchmen dismounted and came to the camp housing the dead wildlings, the tempo of the music began to build as the scout ran from the creepy arrangement of bodies and that freaking terrifying child thingy impaled behind him; Emma felt Killian tense up instinctively. The instincts of a solider, she supposed, and the instinct to be on guard as the tension built for a coming attack. As they debated whether to go back for a further inspectio of how the wildings had died; Emma heard Killian mumble that the smarter thing to do would be to go back and pick up some reinforements to which she completely agreed. Going into a danger zone with little backup was a stupid idea, and of course her sailor was already imersed in the show even from the first few moments. She wondered for a moment at the thought of him in uniform as the shy deckhand persona that she'd seen in his cursed self ages ago entered her mind. Then her mouth slid into a sly smile at the thought of helping him out of that said uniform, after all every girl loves a man in uniform before clutching his hand on her stomarch as he jumped slightly at the first glance at the zombie wraiths as the jumpscare played out. He didn't jump out of fear, she knew with all her heart, but out of the instincts born out of combat and the need to fight that had been enforced in him all his life. Killian was no coward, an annoying moron at times but not ever a craven one. Not ever as he swore quietly at the screen, as the music grew and the last watchmen ran through the forest and fell at the feet of the wraith, hand itching at the growing need to get a sword and fight the unknown threat. But mark her words, he'd fear the day he'd ruin her new TV with his sword which would shortly be ramned up his backside.

She kissed his cheek as the opening credits rolled and he recipocated in kind. Gentle intimacy was rare from her yet always openly repriocated by him as if he was a dying man quenting his thirst for her in the innocent touches and kisses she was given from the man she liked, no loved, now. She'd never been one for PDA before but now, in his embrace, she was decidedly liking her newfound confidence in the relationship they had formed over the years. Could you blame her?

The screen returned to the action as the nightswatchmen from before emerged from the mist to face the intimidatating spears of the Stark soliders. Emma thought on the amount of horseback riding she had done over the last months in Camelot and the subsequent sores that had arised thanks to it; never more grateful for her little yellow beatle then when she returned. Cars were decidedly far more comfortable then horses, though the Jolly Roger was definately more comfortable then either, and a lot more versital for activities of the horizontal and verdical nature that she was determined to have now once life returned to normal. Sex in her tiny car was decidedly not as comfortable, what with the awkward positions and the likelyhood of being accidentally kneed or punched once things got interesting. She humed slightly, thinking of all the places she'd like to see a more intimately. The walls of the Captain's cabin? The mast's multide of ropes that would do nicely for some more naughtier of fantasy's? Or the wheel, which would be strong enough to hold on to once she'd enticed him into it. Very comfortable indeed!

The scene where Bran began to shoot arrows came on shortly, reminding her to ask her mother for lessons on archery so they could rekinder the bond that they had before the first curse had been broken and she had merely been Mary Margaret, her friend and roomate. That might help get keep the smoothering at a bareable level. As Emma watched on, she smiled on the innocence of the first episode in regarding the Starks, who were always her favourates. Personally she'd always imagened herself to be a lot like Arya, Snow as Catelyn, David as Ned and Killian to be a lot like a mixture of Robb's bravery and Jon's sulleness. Arya always seemed to be more interesting then season 1's Sansa, a complete badass if you'd ask her. Not to mention a lot more cheekier, in that moment, shooting an arrow at the target and embarising her brother, who's story bored the living crap out of her. Mini-Assassins were so more cooler then Seers who put her to sleep.

The execution scene was painful, the first rain of blood that flowed through the entire series, reminded her painfully of the almost execution of Morgana in Camelot when she was imprisoned by Arthur who'd gone mad as a result of Merlin's wish to protect him from death. Morgana wasn't a villain after all, just a really fucked up girl who'd seen far too much death in the world to want to see anymore and Emma considered her a friend when she escaped Arthur's clutches and had helped Emma escape the bonds that he'd trapped her in. She'd helped in the process in turning Emma back into the Saviour with her magic and had come back with her to Storybook in order to live out her life in quiet solitude as Belle's new helper in the library. Who knew that the bookkeeper would take a special shine to the stranger who smiled so little yet shone now she was free of Arthur's unwelcome looks of lust? She was happy and that mattered a great deal to Emma as her friend flourished in the week since from the attentions of Belle that were far beyond normal kindness. She nearly giggled at the startled face of Morgana when she'd gone in for a book a few days ago when she hastily drew back from Belle's suspiciously smeered lipstick. Who knew?

Killian tilted his head slighly at the scene with the dead Direwolf and the puppies, whispering how Henry had asked him earlier to try and convince her to get him a puppy off Archie's litter and that perhaps the boy needed a little companion now that was getting older and more responsible. She nodded, whispering back that she'd consider it if he'd behave. Killian smiled, nodding satified with her response and happy that he wouldn't have to deliver bad news onto her son. In the months before Emma had been rescued, he and Henry had grown close in their desire to find her again. Now she was back, she was already discovering a few quirks had begun to imprint themselves onto her boy like his tendency to scratch behind his ear when nervous or a growing confidence in talking to the opposite sex which had resulted in a few dates with Jeffeson's daughter Grace under the tutorlidge of Killian in the 'art of cultivating feminine attentions'. Her little boy was growing up, from the boy who'd found her all those years ago to the awkward teenager with a crush on the Mad Hatter's girl. It was adorable, unsettling at times since she'd just gotten back her baby only to slowly lose him with his growing up but still utterly adorable.

The scene with Cerei and Jaime at Kingslanding was fucking weird, as incesterous relationships with your brother go. Completely ew, but Killian didn't know that. Please to God, let him be disgusted, she thought in a flash of horror at the memories of history lessons where people married their cousins. She didn't know the enchanted forest's version of disgust at incest but she didn't want to deal with it if brothers and sisters could do that with acceptance. Ew, just ew.

Killian shuffled slightly behind her at the sight of Ned at the God's wood and the beautiful tree beside him as he heard of the previous Hand's death and the King's arrival. Although she didn't know as much about him as he did about her, he did tell her in the six weeks of bliss between crises a little on the subject of his mother. Just little bits and pieces, like how she liked apricot muffins more then chocolate, how she hated weapons on tables as much as elbows and how she loved wearing white and blue. The most noted was her fondness for the woods and streams where Killian had grown up and her staunch love of old trees like the one in the scene to read beside. Fond memories, spoken quietly on request but with a kindness that signalled a happy childhood before she dissapeared and his whole life was thrown apart. She liked it, the storys of how Liam, his brother, would chase him through the trees and how his mother would be sitting under them observing her daft sons in mock battle. While his father was a sailor, she learned that his mother was more secretive of her past life before her sons. How she'd become quiet or sullen when she was asked about it, as if bearing the weight of thousands on her shoulders with increasing dismay. Was she a former great lady who'd eloped with his father at the wrath of her parents? A former assassin escaping a life of danger to find a quiet retirement with her small family? He once joked that she must have been a wood elf who'd left her people after being found to be a little too facinated in the running of men for all he knew. It didn't matter to Killian, she was his mother and memories of her near trees like that was more important then anything like that such was his capability of seeing past a person's persona to view the real one inside.

Emma admittedly flustered a little at the sight of three wellbuilt men in the same room with their shirts off, causing a half-hearted jelouse huff from Killian, but really Emma preferred a little scruff to her men then a baby faced idiot. Especially when such a face gives a much better sensation between her legs then the normal ones, even with the beard burn that was admitedly a turn on for her. Yes, scuff was infinately important in her man, especially the man behind her who practically screamed experience in that sort of thing. Yet another thing she'll experience later on when she's sufficiently recovered, if she has anything to say about it.

She laughed suddenly when Catelyn yelled at Bran for climbing the battlements, feeling a sense of companionship with the woman when she remembered all the times she had to deal with Henry's adventurous moods which were further made harder thanks to Roland's michivious help. The two were like little devils according to Snow, who had taken to guarding any sweet desserts to make sure the two thieves were kept well away from her kitchen. It was adorable, annoying from the amount of complaining from Granny and Snow about their sugary exploits in both of their kitchens but still adorable.

She looked again towards Killian as Robert and the Royal family made their way up into Winterfell, finding him nostagically at odds with himself. The boy inside loving the pagendry involved and the memories of seeing the tourneys at the kingdom he served in which he recited in avid detail. Certaintly he loved the pomp, even though the man inside rebelled against the idea of monarch still to this day as a result of said kingdom's betrayal of him. He smiled at Robert hugging New, whispering how David will like that soon if he keeps dragging him down to the White Rabbit when the pressures of married life forced him to. She giggled, promising not to say anything to him when she sees him next as she knew how such meetings were helpful in encouraging David's acceptence of him as her partner and love of her life. Not to mention, the drunk texts from the six weeks were pretty much the highlight of anyone's life since Killian seemed to have an almost vulgar tongue on him when inberiated that would fluster anyone in a six block radius. David on the other hand was reminisent and moody, a bad drunk it seemed but a good way to off load the worries of fatherhood so she let it slide.

She bit her lip as she heared the cries of pleasure of the whores and Tyrion to keep in the laughter as Killian's eyebrows raise in amusement. He knew that sound, but hadn't realised that such things were so explict on TVs nor that I watched such things. The image of Tyrion being sucked off was funny as hell but the laughter behind her quickly stopped with a look of suprise at the image of a near naked Ros appeared with her breasts showing. Ah, theres the pirate she wanted. Emma shifted a little, innocently pressing her arse against Killian till her groaned and whispered how Emma was a 'little minx' and his shock at her 'dirty voyerism'. Clearly the man had never seen porn before, something that remarkably excited her. She snaked her hand down his side to tease him a little before the scene ended by placing her hand so very near the area that she wanted so much to be familar with before pulling away with a grin. She kissed him chasely and whispered 'later' before turning her attention back to the screen as Dany came back onto the screen with her incesterous brother. Ew, totally ruined the moment. Even if Dany is hot as hell, incest and selling a child to a savage is completely a turn off. Good sense and uncomfortable experience with wondering hands in the system from a man twice her age would do that to a girl. Not to mention the horror stories from Morgana about Arthur trying to force his way into her chambers when she was a child only to be saved by her quick thinking and feet. She told her about it in the weeks in Camelot, all the vulgar words he spoke to her rising out in her whispered words as she confided in the first friend she'd had in the world.

Tyrion was definately Killian's second favourite character next to Ned when he appeared next to speak to Jon. Killian and Tyrion's hatred of their fathers, a love of drink and women and a quick wit earned him that honour. She remembered Killian's murmer of how he hated his vile father who abandoned him at such a young age, and she knew then that Killian was just as much a mother's boy as she was her father's girl. David was her favourite parent, to be honest, with his gentle touch and calm words of caution outweighing her mother's overwhelming presence and stupidity when infuriated. We all have our favourite parents, like they have their favourite children, we are just better liars then they are.

The Wedding of Dany and Karl Drago and the subsequent nakednesss was very affective in rising the moral along with the bloodshed but the worried looks by Dany reminded her of what was to come. Emma looked at Killian and murmered caution to him and that the next scene isn't really that pleasant. Rape is never pleasant, no matter how the show writers tried to hide it later on. Emma never fell for the whole Drago/Dany romance thing, he didn't back off when she said no and that destroyed it before it could begin. Killian moved behind her, instinctively moving her head into his arms and hugging her tight so to block out what he knew to be coming. He held her close, closing his eyes and holding her through the entire thing. Good man that he was, he managed to block out the image by making her focus on something other then the scene in front of her. She looked back once it finished, looking again before remebering what else was coming. From marital rape to incest and attempted child murder. Killian startled once he saw what was occuring and gave out a line of swears and vulgar insults, disgusted as Emma had wished for with the image presented to him. Ew, just ew.

"Well that was uncomfortable"

"Do you want to stop?"

"You wanted to watch your show, give me a minute to stop myself from throwing up and we'll continue love."

Just ew.