This is rated M, ladies and gentlemen.
Chapter 2
Four days. Four days he had waited before going to Emma. Four days passed drowning himself in work – and rum. Too much rum, even for him; his liver was going to kill him from the inside.
This time he had actually found answers, just not the one he actually wanted. Bloody trolls, he cursed reaching the top of the tower and swinging his legs over the windowsill.
He found Emma quickly – he now used the mirror, too – curled op on one armchair, not one but two blankets wrapped around her. He frowned for a minute, wondering if she was sick, and then remembering the icy wind that was coming in from the window. The window she always left open. That she always left open for him.
Quietly, he shut the window close. «You could've closed it,» Killian muttered once he'd reached her.
The small smile she gave him warmed his heart more than a hundred fires could have ever done. «Then how could have I listened to your curses while climbing my tower?» she joked, her feet playfully moving under the blankets.
«Those words aren't fit for a lady's ears,» he grumbled, chastising himself for his lack of good form. Had he still been in the Navy, he'd have been punished for such poor manners.
A snort escaped Emma. «I'm afraid I'm no lady.» Strangely enough, her words weren't filled with sadness anymore, but playful. He was delighted, but it still wasn't right, she was supposed to joke about it in her palace, dressed as a true Princess, with a tiara on her head. Still, she was a true Princess to him.
«Pardon my poor choice of words, Your Highness, I didn't mean to offend you.» Her arm escaped the confinement of the blankets, her hand swatting him on the arm, making him laugh.
When his laugh had died down, Killian noticed her expression, now embarrassed. «I've missed you,» Emma confessed in a whisper and his heartbeat stopped for what seemed an eternity.
This time, he'd been gone for three months. Against any better judgment, he had fought against Arendelle's winter to go back to Emma. Winter was coming, and he hadn't wanted to risk being forced to stay in that place any longer.
«I've missed you too, love,» he replied softly, wanting nothing more than bending down an kiss her lips. The mere memory of her had taunted him during his months away. Those months, though, had allowed him to think. And to say goodbye.
Too long he had been bounded to the darkness because of Milah. It didn't mean he hadn't loved her, just that that love was darkness. He had figured it out too late, and even if it should've been too late for him, the light had started to chase away the darkness in his heart the moment he had met Emma.
Thanks to her, in fact, his heart had begun to feel again, and he wasn't talking about mere gratitude. It was something more, something he had never felt, so bright and warm that he feared it could burn him. Maybe it actually could.
That fear of being burned as he had been many times was stopping him from name that feeling. He knew its name, but he was afraid of being vulnerable, of letting it consume him. Because it would, and then he would be only hers.
Shifting on the armchair, Emma looked at him. «How was the journey?» she asked, and it hit him that that it was a question a wife would make. Many times, when he was a Lieutenant, he'd wondered how his life would be if the florist's daughter would grant him the honour of court her. He had been naïve, at the time, and it was just a few days before he was set to set sail for Neverland, but he had thought about it. And a wife asking how his journey had gone, waiting for him at the docks? That was the first thing he had thought about when he had wondered what meant coming home.
And, right now, he was home. And that thought terrified him. «The sea around Arendelle was dreadful, but I am one hell of a captain, after all. Some of my men even got seasick. At least we didn't face a storm.»
«You… you are… reckless!» she hissed infuriated, eyes wide in anger.
He chuckled, now seated on the floor, back against the armchair. «Oh, but I had gifts to bring to my Princess.» Killian pretended that the endearment didn't make his heart flutter. «I couldn't make her wait any longer.»
Emma's eyes were flaring with anger but he could see the affection in her gaze even if she was trying to be upset. «Your Princess here would prefer you to be safe instead of some gifts she doesn't need.»
That caught him off guard, awe in his eyes as he regarded her from below. «Aye, well,» he mumbled averting his gaze and opening his satchel, «the sea would've started to freeze soon and I couldn't allow myself to spend more time there.» When she didn't respond, he pulled out the first gift only to have her stealing it the moment she saw it.
«Wh-what are these?» Emma asked confused, grabbing one of the sticks from the paper envelope. He craned his neck to see her eyes study it in fascination.
«Those, love, are candy canes. Although they're often consumed during the winter festivities, in Arendelle they produce them all year long. I've brought you different flavours,» he added sheepishly, the tips of his ear burning. He wanted to bring her to Arendelle, but since he couldn't he had decided to bring a part of the kingdom to her. It wasn't much, not nearly enough, but he hoped, one day, to be able to eat those candy canes in Arendelle with Emma, the both of them wrapped in heavy coats, the tips of their noses red.
After she'd put the envelope on the table, he handed her the second gift, another vial of perfume. This one contained a wild rose fragrance, different from the one she already used, just more… Emma.
«If next time you'll bring me another perfume, I'll actually end up thinking I stink,» she joked passing distractedly her fingers through his hair. Killian sighed at the contact, briefly closing his eyes. She'd done that a few times, always in a distracted way, but it always made him feel relaxed, as if her touch was soothing. Well, it was.
Keeping his eyes closed, he chuckled. «I'll keep that in mind,» he purred – actually purred – as her fingers kept massaging his scalp. «You don't have to worry, though, your scent is far from awful.»
She hummed, reaching over his shoulder to search his satchel for the last gift. He smiled; even if she lacked in technique, Emma she still had a little pirate in her. «Aha!» she exulted when her fingers found the music box.
It was nothing special, a waltz as old as he was, but beautiful nonetheless. A soft music filled the air, as graceful as she was. «It's called Swan Lake Waltz, and-»
«I… I've heard it. When I was little, I think,» she murmured, surprising him. «I've never attended a ball, of course, I was too little, but I remember the music.» Emma looked at him with a hint of mischief in her eyes. The next thing he knew, she was discarding the blankets off her shoulders and standing beside the armchair.
He was astonished. Emma wasn't wearing one of the few dresses he knew she had, but a deep red one. It wasn't new, he could see that. Still, he had never seen her in that dress. Killian gaped at her, looking at her form from head to toe, from her bright, wavy hair, to the black flats she wore at her feet peeking out from under the hem of the gown.
Gold and red decorated her neckline and wrapped around her chest, right under her breasts, now even more pronounced thanks to that detail – and he didn't notice that, at all. Slightly puffball sleeves ended around her upper arms only to open in a cascade of red silk, the same as the dress.
«You are stunning, Emma.»
Under his gaze, she blushed. «I was wondering if you could teach me how to dance. My father used to dance with me, but I… I've never danced. Not really.»
Her voice brought him out of his state of trance. «I'd be honoured, love,» he replied, lifting himself from the floor. «All you need is a partner who knows what he's doing.» A saucy grin graced his lips as he placed the music box on the small table before leaving his sword near the armchair and reaching Emma.
«And you're sure you know what you're doing?» she taunted him.
Cheeky wench, Killian thought grabbing gently her hand and bringing it to his lip. It wasn't the first time he kissed her hand, a gesture he made greeting her, not trying to seduce her. Now, tough, he couldn't deny he was attracted to her. He always had been, but right now… his heart was soaring. She made his heart soar.
«Aye, love, that I do,» he whispered a breath away from the soft skin of her hand. He placed it on his shoulder, trailing his fingertips on her waist, grabbing it and bringing Emma closer to him. Killian shuddered hearing her breath catch in her throat.
Even without looking, he knew there were just a few inches between her breasts and his chest; after all, it wasn't proper, and even if they were alone, he would always be a gentleman to her. And a little bit of a scoundrel, too.
Emma surprised him by grabbing his hook. She'd never shied away from it, mostly because Killian tried to keep it away from her, but it had never bothered her. Other lasses found it fascinating or intimidating at times, but not one of them ever treated it as if it was just a part of him. That feeling of coming home made its way through is heart once again.
He made the first step, making her move backwards, her eyes trained on their feet. «Don't look at them, just look at me,» Killian said quietly, afraid of breaking the magic of that moment.
Flushing, she lifted her gaze. «Am I doing it right?»
Killian couldn't help but smile. «It seems you're a natural, Princess,» he complimented her with a slight bow before making her spin slowly, mindful of her hair.
«Really?» she asked, eyes bright with hope.
He nodded, pressing her even more against himself; if he looked down he would admire her cleavage in a way he shouldn't. It wasn't good form. And he tried, he tried not to look in her eyes with hunger, with that desire that was slowly consuming him. He'd been without a woman for a long time even before Emma and he didn't mind, but now… it wasn't a primal need that haunted him, no, it was a need of her, of Emma.
And then she moved her hand, cupping his cheek and caressing with deference the scar she found there. Stopping the dance, she reached up on her tiptoes to press her lips to his.
In that moment, everything disappeared, there were only Emma and himself, her roses scent inebriating him more than an entire barrel of rum could do. And because he was weak, he kissed her back, gripping her waist with more possessiveness, her breasts now pressed tightly against his own chest, and he could feel her thighs flush against his.
Needing to feel more than just the pressure, Killian parted his lips, asking with his tongue for her to open her mouth. A moan escaped Emma's lips when their tongues touched, making them both shiver and every ounce of Killian's blood ran south, now unable to resist her. He had to, though, he couldn't take her, ruin her, even if his heart ached for it.
With a sigh, Killian ended the kiss, his forehead resting against Emma's, the taste of her still on his lips. «Emma…» Gods¸ his voice was wrecked. Hell, his entire body was wrecked, and his soul too. She had this power, and even if he should run away from her, from the danger of being destroyed, he simply couldn't. And wouldn't.
«I-I'm sorry, I thought…»
Bloody hell. She thought he didn't feel the same, that he didn't feel the need to kiss her, too. «Emma, I do want to kiss you, but… you deserve so much more than me. I'm a pirate, you are a princess, I can't sully your reputation like this.»
She huffed, shaking her head. «Killian, I want you. Please,» Emma begged watching him through her eyelashes. «I don't care about my reputation, I… I just want you.»
Killian was stunned. And his heart was ready to fly right out of his chest. «Emma… are you sure?» he asked, searching for doubt in her eyes but finding any. This woman would be the death of him.
«I'm sure, Killian. I've thought about this… and I want it. But I'll understand if you don't want me…»
«Didn't we agree that I do want you?»
«Yes, but…»
He cut her off with a kiss. It was more passionate and full of hunger than their first, his fingers now in her hair, his hooked arm circling her waist, bringing her closer to him. Emma moaned against his mouth, her hands pressed against his chest and he would lie if he said he didn't shiver when her nails ran along his skin.
«Emma…» he groaned when she scratched his neck, «are you sure you know what…» He couldn't even finish his sentence, his brain no longer useful.
«I've…» she panted, her lips moving on the corner of his mouth, «I've read things, before, at the palace, and then here.» Her cheeks were now crimson, hot under his fingertips. «Not all those books are about tragedies.»
Killian hummed, his eyes on her lips. «Emma,» he murmured again, her name the only thing that made sense in his foggy mind.
«Killian,» she moaned digging her fingers in his hair and pulling him down toward her mouth. She bit his lip, sucking it between her teeth.
With his hand, he brushed the underside of her breast, knowing too well that she wasn't wearing a corset, her nipples now on full display, staring at him from beneath the red silk, begging him to be sucked and bitten.
He moved his lips down on her neck, sucking on her pulse point. The moan that escaped her lips almost made him come on the spot. He nibbled at the soft skin under her jaw, making her tremble in his arms.
Her fingers moved under his coat, gently removing it from his shoulders. It landed on the floor with a hollow thump, her eyes trained on his chest, her fingers caressing the chest hair peeking out from under his vest and shirt. Of course, it was still the first time she was touched like this by a man and had the opportunity to touch him, too, but her unexperienced touch made the fire coursing through his veins even more burning.
Killian would never deny the swell of male pride that he felt the moment he realized he'd be her first. He would've liked to be her only one, too, but he couldn't allow to think something like that. Right now, his only concern was Emma.
Boldly, he traced a finger along the neckline, dipping it when he reached her left shoulder, exposing it to his lips just for him to kiss the skin there. She sighed, giving him permission to do the same with the other sleeve. Without thinking about it, he used his hook to bring down the silk, and she actually moaned when steel met skin. That woman would be the death of him.
He smirked against her skin, sucking on her pulse point. «You like the hook, uh?» he asked.
«I-I've always liked the hook,» she panted, startling him.
Killian pulled away from her, looking into her green eyes now darkened by desire, echoing his own. He couldn't describe what his heart was exactly doing in his chest, but it surely wasn't in its rightful place anymore. Or maybe it was, but it wasn't beating exactly how it should've.
She was bloody brilliant, amazing. And he had every intention of showing her. Capturing her lips once again, Killian started to ease her dress down her body, revealing the white shift she was wearing. His hand cupped one of her breasts, her nipple hard and begging to be sucked into his mouth. Without thinking about it twice, he trailed his lips down, down until he reached said nipple, tracing circles around it before biting gently down onto it from above the shift.
«Killian,» Emma cried out, her arms circling his head, fingers diving into his hair, pulling it. «Gods,» she panted, her head thrown back in the throes of passion.
He kept divesting her, the dress now in a heap at her feet, her breathy moans filling his ears and making his cock throb in the confines of his pants.
Emma yelped when Killian lifted her, bringing her legs to circle his waist. Careful not to step on her hair, he brought her towards the bed, laying her down on the blankets before hovering over her. He traced her kiss-swollen lips with his fingertip, growling when she moved to bite one.
«Minx,» he breathed, diving in to kiss her throat, tracing with the tip of his tongue the hollow he found there, smirking against her skin when she shivered again.
Slowly, he descended toward the valley of her breasts. Killian looked at her. «Still sure?»
Huffing, Emma propped herself on her elbows. «You want to continue or do I have to take things into my own hands?»
Killian pictured her pleasuring herself and shivered, his cock twitching. He had to ground himself on the bed and breathe through his nose to calm herself. «Mhm, I could hold you to that,» he smirked biting down gently on her breast. Another moan, another mark left on her body.
«And I would gladly show you,» she panted in response, kicking her shoes off. He felt her feet tracing the back of his legs, forcing him to grind against her. They both moaned, feeling too much and too little at the same time.
«I want to taste you,» he breathed capturing her lips with his own.
«Please.»
Killian placed himself between her thighs, inching the light shift up her knees, kissing the skin there, soft and roses-scented. She moaned again, mewling when he traced the inside of her thigh with his tongue. The undergarments she wore were short and tight, different from what he thought a princess would wear. But she's not a common princess, he thought divesting her of the garment, revealing her pink and glistening womanhood to his hungry gaze.
He inhaled deeply, filling his nostrils with her unique scent and conceded himself a look at her center, her pink folds dripping with pleasure, her secret pearl throbbing under his gaze, a real treasure nestled in soft golden curls.
Catching her heated gaze, pupils blown wide, Killian lowered his head and traced a light circle around her clit, making her back arch. Smiling against her skin, he parted her folds, his fingertips coated with her arousal, her scent filling his lungs and her taste nectar in his mouth. He could die a happy man between her thighs, spending the rest of his life tasting her and bringing her pleasure over and over again.
Her fingers found their way in his hair, pulling it and pressing him against herself, breathless moans coming out of her plump parted lips as he dove his tongue inside her, his beard scratching her soft skin and leaving angry red marks in its wake. He didn't think Emma would mind that much, maybe even not at all.
Emma shivered and he smiled against her, lapping at her essence like a starved man. He ignored the pain her nails caused to his scalp since that pain quickly transformed into pleasure that made his cock throb repeatedly. For a moment, he was afraid he would come in his pants like a green lad.
Sucking her bundle of nerves into his mouth, Killian massaged her entrance, sensing her bucking beneath himself. With a smirk, he slipped one finger inside her and his eyes fluttered close feeling how much tight and hot and wet she was for him. He heard her cry out and smirked, moving his finger in and out of her, making sure the coldness of his ring rubbed against her heated and sensitive skin.
«Oh gods,» she moaned with strangled voice, her fingers clutching tightly at Killian's hair.
His smile widened and he pulled slightly away from her, placing a kiss on her stomach since her shift had ridden up to her waist, exposing more of her soft skin. «That good?» he asked feigning innocence without interrupting his movement. With a feral light in his eyes, he added a second finger, admiring how she closed her eyes and her back arched as he searched for her hidden treasure.
Emma was about to reply when her voice broke in a loud moan and he felt her thighs clench on both sides of his head. Found it, he thought proudly. «You taste so good, Emma, so good,» he murmured against her skin, sucking a mark on her hip before going back to where she needed him the most.
He blocked her movements with his left arm, twisting it so the cold curve of his hook brushed her skin. She was magnificent, tight around his fingers it almost hurt and he couldn't imagine how she would feel around his cock. He couldn't think about it, or it would all end really fast and he'd be damned if he let it.
He stretched her, drinking her essence with his mouth and her moans with his ears, the ring on his index finger slipping slightly inside her and her fingers dug into his scalp. Killian went faster, deeper, sucking hard on her clit until he felt her walls clench repeatedly around his fingers. Her body went still and she let out a scream, music to his ears.
He brought her down from her high, cleaning her of her juices and pulling out his fingers. «Bloody amazing,» Killian murmured, licking his fingers clean, not yet ready to be denied of her essence.
Gently, he laid down beside her, tracing his fingers on her stomach and admiring her flushed face, eyes bright. «That was…» she started, breathless, unable to finish her sentence, too many adjectives to describe what she was feeling but none capable of actually doing that.
Killian couldn't help but chuckle, his fingertips brushing her skin like soft breeze on the ocean. «I'm glad you enjoyed yourself,» he whispered, pressing a kiss on her temple.
«Enjoyed… mhm, that doesn't actually describe it. It was… so much more,» Emma tried to explain, turning her heads towards him, mischief shining in her green irises. «And it wasn't enough.»
He groaned, that woman would bring him to an early grave. «Are you really sure you want this?» he asked, he had to make sure she knew what she was asking for. Killian knew that she had few chances of leaving the tower – of course, he would find a way – but at the same time, if she returned home, she would be ruined, and he didn't want her to be treated as damaged goods. His stomach lurched at the thought of her being considered so, but he also knew how royalty forgave powerful men for having mistresses or adventures before and after their wedding but dishonoured women if they ever thought of answer that lustful call.
To his surprise, Emma smiled softly, rolling over so she was half on top of him her covered breasts, the only part of her that his eyes had yet to see, pressed against his chest, her hips grinding down on his painful erection.
«Please, Killian,» she begged, caressing his cheek with her fingers. Killian closed his eyes before dipping his head and kissing her. Emma hummed, tasting herself on his lips, and that thought set his blood aflame.
He rolled them so Emma was on her back, looking up at him with hooded eyes. With a smirk, he traced his hook along the valley of her breast, tearing the shift but careful not to hurt her. Emma yelped in surprise, a smile gracing her lips. Gods, she's perfect.
Killian felt her hands on his chest, her nails scratching slightly the exposed skin as she then moved to undo the buttons of his vest, fingers trailing down his stomach and he couldn't wait to feel her skin pressed against his own. He waited, though, wanting her to set the peace, leaving her time to explore him, knowing they would have time to do so, but also that she needed it.
The brocade vest landed on the floor, Emma's fingers now pulling out his black shirt from his leather pants. He closed his eyes as her fingertips brushed against the skin of his hips and then traced his back while divesting him, feeling every muscle there. The shirt landed somewhere, probably on the vanity, but he didn't give it much attention.
«You're beautiful,» she breathed, her palms flat against his chest, finger threading through his chest hair.
Unworthy of that sentiment, Killian just shook his head and kissed her, his hand traveling up her body to cup one of her breasts, using the cold ring on his thumb to circle her nipple. Emma gasped in his mouth.
Gentle fingers travelled to the straps that kept his brace in place, at which he pulled away, shame in his eyes. «It's not a nice view,» he stammered, but she shook her head and kissed him again, unbuckling the leather straps.
«Everything about you is beautiful, Killian Jones, even your scars,» Emma murmured against his swollen lips. The brace soon landed with a thump on the floor and he felt exposed, ready to hide his stump but Emma was faster, grabbing his arm and bringing it to her lips. His breath itched in his throat as her lips and fingers traced the thick scars there, as if wanting to heal them. What she was doing, instead, was healing the scars on his heart.
Resting his forehead against hers, he closed his eyes. «You're far more what I deserve.»
«How strange, I thought the same,» Emma laughed softly, kissing him again. They stayed like that, seated in each other's arms, for what felt like hours before she playfully nibbled his lower lip, her hands moving down to the laces of his pants.
A moan escaped his lips when she caressed him, feeling how hard he was for her, and how big he was. Killian hoped she wouldn't be scared, even if she knew how sex worked, she might not know that… Fucking hell, he cursed in his mind as her gentle small hands unlaced his pants and brushed again his heated skin.
Uncapable of holding back, he moaned again when Emma took him in her hand, stroking him gently. «Bloody hell, woman,» he breathed, already too close to the edge for his own lacking. Emma's pleasure came first.
Emma chuckled under her breath. «I'm sorry, it's just… you're the first man I actually see naked and… it's so big.»
At her words he let out a strange sound between a moan and a chuckle. «Oh, don't you worry, princess, it'll fit.»
It was her turn to moan. Nipping her shoulder once more, he stood on unsteady legs and made quick work of his boots and trousers, keeping his eyes on her naked form. His cock throbbed again. He kneeled on the bed, his eyes still in hers as he bent over Emma.
She moved back, shyly widening her legs to him, offering herself to his own body, trusting him completely. Killian moved, covering her body with his, his hand caressing her thigh and side, traveling down to her dripping entrance.
«Killian,» Emma protested weakly, she'd had enough of feeling just his fingers, as wonderful and magical they were. She wanted to feel him.
Carefully, Killian moved closer, the leaking tip of his cock coming in contact with her center had the both of them moaning. «Gods, Emma,» he breathed pushing slightly inside of her, her scorching hot walls tightening at the intrusion made his eyes roll backwards. If that was heaven, he would die happily.
Emma ran her fingers through his hair, bringing him close to her mouth to kiss him, biting down on his lip as he pushed forward, a sharp but bearable pain running through her. Instinctively, she brought her legs around his waist, pulling him towards her.
Whatever use Killian's brain had ever had, it was now useful, buried to the hilt in Emma, her tight cunt fluttering along his cock. He stopped for a moment, braced on his forearms, and looked her in the eyes, questioning her.
In reply, she kissed him again, bucking her hips upwards. «You're so tight, and wet,» he grunted, his hand finding its way to her breasts as he slowly started to move inside her.
Emma panted, her hands frantically moving on his back and neck, scratching the skin there. The thought of bearing marks left by her made him growl and his cock twitched inside her, pulling a moan from her plump lips. «You're so big,» she repeated her earlier words, her legs tightening around his waist.
«Am I hurting-» But she was quick to shook her head no, her eyes hooded eyes telling him she was enjoying it. With a smirk, he bent on her breast and suckled a pert nipple into his mouth. She screamed in ecstasy at that, bucking her hips and making him groan onto her skin.
Slightly quickening his pace, Killian brought his attention on the other nipple, his ringed fingers tightening on her waist enough to leave bruises. He felt her walls clamp down onto him, already close to her second climax.
He suckled on her nipple harder, grazing it slightly with his teeth as his hand moved down her smooth trembling stomach and found her slick clit. «Come, love, come for me,» Killian whispered hoarsely. All it took was a flick of his fingers and she was there, over the moon and far away between the stars, her passion-filled scream reverberating through the tower.
But Killian didn't relent, wanting to make her come once more. With his fingers still on her clit, circling it, tugging it slightly, brushing it, he picked up his pace, thrusting into her oh so tight cunt it was nearly painful.
«Killian,» Emma moaned, tilting her hips upwards as her ankles pressed against the small of his back, one of her hands gripping his bicep while the other used his necklace to bring his mouth down on hers.
«Again,» he murmured biting down on her lower lip, «come for me again, I want to feel you come around my cock one more time.» He thrust hard inside her, hitting that place that made her see all the stars in the sky and beyond again and again, her screams of pleasure music to his ears.
«Yes!» she panted, her short nails biting into his skin and probably drawing blood as she frantically responded to his thrusts. «Make me come again, Killian, please.»
Her plea made him shiver as he held back his orgasm gritting his teeth so hard it hurt. His fingers moved quicker on her clit, his movements now wild.
Emma came with his name on her lips, tightening like a vice around him and making him see stars.
Killian too came breathing her name, driving himself so deep inside her, spurting hot thick streaks of seed into her warm depths, her walls milking him of all he had.
His head rested in the crook of her neck, her trembling legs had fallen onto the back of his and she was now caressing one of his calves with her tiny foot. That, along with her fingers threading through his thick hair, made him purr.
Emma chuckled softly, still panting, Killian could feel her heart starting to slow down to a normal pace. He didn't want to crush her, but there was something to say to placing your head upon a woman's breasts, above her heart. Still, he had to do something before laying down with her.
Slowly pulling out of her – and enjoying her whine as he did so – Killian stood up, going to the basin next to the vanity where he wetted a washcloth and brought it back to the bed, stopping for a moment to admire Emma's lush naked body. He sat down next to her, parting her legs once more to clean her up, relishing in her quiet moan.
«'S nice,» Emma mumbled sleepily.
After he'd cleaned up himself too, Killian cleaned the washcloth, not knowing what to do exactly. Things had changed, and there was no turning back, as the blood on the cloth demonstrated.
«Come back to bed.»
Emma's voice made hi turn around. She was now covered by a thick quilt, undoubtedly still naked. Before he could even think about what he was doing, his body had already answered his siren's call, his feet bringing him to the bed.
Slowly, Killian slipped beneath the quilt. Not having actually slept with a woman in years, he didn't know how Emma liked to sleep and…
«You can… like before…» she stammered, stifling a yawn, «with your head on my chest. 'Twas nice.»
His breath caught in his throat, but one look at her sleepy eyes made his resolve crumble. Shifting so he was half on top of her with a thigh between hers, Killian rested his head on her chest. The moment he did, Emma's hands came to rest one at the nape of his neck, toying with the hair there, and the other running through his inky locks.
Killian fell asleep to the rhythm of Emma's heartbeat.
Things changed that night. They became lovers, and Killian found it harder and harder to leave her. Yet, he had to, because he had to keep his promise and find a way to free her from that blasted tower.
His last journey to Wonderland had been useless, especially because the old Queen of Hearts was the Evil Queen's mother and she'd pulled out his heart, ordering him to tell her why he was in her realm.
Even with all the information he provided her, Cora didn't help him. Well, she couldn't, exactly, but she still told her the story about the witch that had imprisoned Emma.
«She calls herself Mother Gothel,» Cora had explained, lovingly caressing a flamingo's neck, «and she's as old as the world itself, some may say, but she wasn't the first of her species, she was part of a family of nymphs, once, but then humans killed them all and she, guided by her thirst for revenge, killed as many humans as possible, entire kingdoms at once, leaving only death behind her. Until she stopped. I've heard little of that, but apparently some girl named Rapunzel trapped her in a tower. Now, the spell is quite fascinating. Apparently, the tower is enchanted to keep inside any blood relative of Gothel's until one descendant of her bloodline takes their place. There's no other way out, I'm afraid.»
That information had made Killian's head spin. «How… Are you telling me that Emma is a descendant of that… witch?»
Cora had hummed. «It seems so, or your precious Emma lied to you, but I doubt it, since she's the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming.»
It had taken Emma some time, but in the end, in the middle of the night, cuddled against his chest, she'd told him who her parents were.
«It all depends on when Gothel escaped the tower, probably luring and deceiving some kind of hero on a quest.»
«This doesn't explain why Emma was raised by her parents in her castle.»
At that, Cora had laughed heartily. «Oh, Captain, don't make a fool of yourself. Think about it, how could a descendant escape a prison like that?»
«A sibling,» he'd breathed.
«Exactly. A twin, more precisely, is my guess. The firstborn, its bond with the tower cut the moment its sibling was born, would be able to escape along with its mother. Ah, yes, I forgot: the child is always a girl, or at least the one trapped in the tower is. I don't know if it's the tower's doing or Gothel's, but no man has ever been trapped in there.»
«You seem to know a lot about it for a woman stuck in another realm.»
«You forgot, Captain, that I once lived in the Enchanted Forest, and that the Dark One trained me. I found Gothel's story in one of his books.»
«What about Emma's hair? Why does that demon need it to endlessly grow?»
Cora had been intrigued by his question, but didn't have an answer, only theories, and he didn't need a bloody theory. «Torture, perhaps, but I think it might be tied to the myth of Samson, the warrior whose strength resided in his hair. For your girl, that strength is her magic.»
«But Emma told me she didn't have magic anymore.»
«And as I said, Gothel is a powerful witch, capable even of breaking a spell sealed with blood magic, she probably has bound Emma's magic and uses her hair to drain it from her. Being drained from your own magic… well, let's say I would wish for it to happen only to my worst enemy. You can see, it, can't you? How weak she is at times, how empty she feels.»
«Will she die?» Will she die if I cannot find a way?
Thankfully, Cora had shaken her head. «She'd never used her magic that much, I gather, so her life isn't tied to it. But, she's also the product of True Love, which makes her magic very special to Gothel. We're talking about the purest form of magic, Captain, the opposite of the Dark One's. If Emma had had the time to properly embrace it, she might even have defeated Gothel once and for all.»
«That's why she took her as a child, the magic the other girl provided wasn't enough compared to Emma's.»
Cora had nodded with a proud yet sad smile. «Unfortunately, you're right. I truly am sorry, I don't know how to help you or your princess.»
She'd given him several gifts for Emma, the most precious one an old hand-mirror capable of showing any place in the world to whomever held it.
When he climbed the tower that night, he found Emma bathing, her eyes closed and the perfume he'd brought her from Arendelle filled the space around him. She was quite a sight, bubbles covering the water's surface but teasing enough as they gathered around her breasts.
«You're staring.»
Even with her eyes closed, she always knew he was there. Killian smiled softly, sitting on the floor next to the tub. «Aye, I am. Could you fault me, though? A siren is laying naked before my eyes, it's bad form not answering her call.» He started kissing the soft skin of her arm, moving up towards her shoulder.
«I think that's called suicide,» she mumbled, a sigh escaping her lips.
«That, too,» he conceded, nuzzling his nose against her hair falling out of the tub, golden waves he wished he was able to cut. Shuffling out of his coat, Killian moved into a kneeled position and pushed his right sleeve upwards with his hook. He toyed with the bubbles, smearing them over her arm, making Emma giggle.
With a smirk, he immersed his hand into the water, brushing her ribs with his fingertips. Water sloshed everywhere as she squirmed away from him. «Don't tickle me,» she warned him, trying to be intimidating.
Killian looked at her, feigning indignation. «I would never!» he exclaimed, this time tickling her for real. Emma burst out laughing, the water inside the tub coming out and drenching him. Slowly, he moved his hand down, along her belly, to her mound. Her laugh instantly turned into a moan.
Grinning like a cat, he went lower, relishing in the way she parted her legs underwater for him. He dipped a finger into her moist heat, her moans making him hard as a rock. He added another finger, the ring there slipping just past her opening.
Her hands found his shirt and hair, tugging at them to bring his mouth to hers. Emma had shifted to an awkward angle, the upper part of her body now out of the water, her breasts pressed to Killian's chest.
It took just a few flicks of his thumb over her clit and his fingers pressing against her sweet spot to make her come undone with a muffled scream. He knew Emma used to touch herself, but she'd also confided his touch was something else completely, spiking her arousal and making her see heaven.
He effortlessly picked her up, slipping one arm beneath her knees, water sloshing all around them as he brought her to the bed.
Killian didn't want to think about what the Queen of Hearts had told him, not now, not when he'd been so long without seeing, touching Emma, not when he needed to ask for her forgiveness because he didn't have a way to get her out of the tower yet, because all he could offer her was his scarred body.
The gash on his shoulder still stung. Bloody flying monkeys, he seethed, sighing in front of the tower.
Six months. Six bloody months for a trip that should've taken only three, four tops. But no, of course he'd found the Evil Queen there, and of fucking course the Wicked Witch was her sister. Not to mention, there was no Wizard of Oz to speak of.
They'd kept him in the dungeons for months, torturing him, laughing as if they were madwomen – which they were. At first it was just physical torture, but then they started entering his mind. That's how Regina found out about Emma. He'd tried, he'd tried very hard to conceal his thoughts, but magic was stronger than he was. That was also how they discovered about what Cora had told him, about the tower and so they'd freed him and started to come up with theories about how a curse like that could be broken.
At first, it was odd, he didn't trust either woman, yet they were powerful witches now that Regina had taken her magic back. They mentioned True Love's Kiss, of course, the most powerful magic of all, but Killian couldn't love anymore, his heart was black with darkness and broken into a million little pieces. Of course he cared for Emma, how could he not? But love, True Love, even? That was… no. She deserved a better man, a prince, or someone who hadn't murdered people. Emma deserved someone worthy of her. Yet, the thought of her with another man seemed capable of broking his already crumbled heart.
He'd found nothing, only a myth, one he would seek once he saw her again. Once he told her she wouldn't see him again after he'd freed her.
The gash was a parting gift from one of the flying monkeys; Zelena's wicked laugh still ringing in his ear.
The tower was awfully quiet, a trembling light coming from the top. Emma was probably already asleep, probably laying on her side, hugging her pillow as if it was him. Gulping down his own feelings, feelings he'd already experienced but also different, more pure, Killian started his climb.
His shoulder pulsed painfully as he sat on the windowsill, breathing hard. Blindly, he stepped into the tower, stumbling onto Emma's hair. He hissed, waiting for her to scream in pain or laugh at him or something. But nothing happened. He was only met with silence.
Killian frowned. Emma kept in order her hair, never leaving it sprawled around the tower, she hadn't since their first meeting. His hand flew to the hilt of his cutlass, unsheathing it. «Emma?» he called, his voice vibrating with concern.
«Shhh!»
He swiftly turned around, the tip of his cutlass mere inches away from a woman's throat. A woman who wasn't Emma.
«Where's Emma?» he asked, his heart fearing the answer.
The woman shrugged, her braided hair moving with her just like Emma's did whenever she moved. «She's gone.»
Gone. No, that wasn't possible. He pressed the tip of his weapon more against her soft skin, enough to draw blood. «Where is Emma, what did you do to her?»
The woman, Gothel, laughed, a cold, amused laugh that sent chills down his spine. «I merely helped her, Captain,» she replied, using two fingers to push the blade aside, the wound on her neck instantly healed. «She was… in need of my help. She begged me to help her, actually, which is ironic to say the least.»
Killian didn't believe her, he couldn't. A thought broke through. No, he told himself, even if that was what had happened, it still wasn't possible, Emma would have never… But then, doubt creeped in, and he didn't hear the clattering of the cutlass on the floor. No, he repeated, that couldn't be.
But now Mother Gothel was holding a bundle of blankets against her chest and Killian felt the world collapse. «Your dear Emma asked me to speed up the pregnancy the moment it started to bother her too much. This little girl was born three weeks ago today.»
No, Killian pleaded, no, no, no, Emma would never do something like that, she isn't a monster. He didn't want to believe the monster in front of her, but Emma was gone, and there was his daughter in the witch's arms. He had a daughter. Gods.
«The rules are simple, Captain,» the witch continued, «you may live with her here, I don't mind, after all I did let you live with Emma, didn't I? You must not cut her hair, though your every attempt would just turn into dust. I will visit every six months during her first ten years of life, and I would be glad if you weren't there, I would hate to ruin your pretty face.»
Both of them knew he'd put his entire being at risk for his daughter, Killian already wanted to wrench her away from the witch's claws, to protect her in her own prison. His heart raced in his chest, unease until the witch stepped forward, handing him the tiny bundle. Carefully, mindful of his hook, Killian cradled the sleeping baby in his arms.
She was beautiful. Stunning. His freshly broken heart started to beat again at the sight of her, a warm feeling spreading from his chest through his body. Instinctively, Killian started to hum, bringing her towards the bad. It was then that he noticed the crib, a tiny thing the witch must have magicked out of thin air.
«What's her name?» he asked, turning around, but the witch was gone. Gulping, he set the baby down in the crib, tucking her in and caressing her face with a knuckle. Her skin was so fair and soft, just like Emma's. From under the knitted white cap, she could see a patch of blond hair. Killian wondered if she had Emma's eyes, too.
Killian slowly turned around, eyes falling to what remained of Emma's hair. His body filled with murderous rage, and he swiftly picked it up, gathering it in his arms and pushing it out of the window. He didn't feel lighter, he didn't feel anything.
First things first, the Captain in him took hold of his thoughts. He had things to sort out, things to buy, lessons to learn. But he must be quick, he didn't like the idea of leaving her alone. Killian bent down, kissing her tiny forehead. She smelled of roses.
Climbing down the tower was easy, it always was. He jumped onto the ground, glaring at the hair on the grass, the moonlight turning it silver. Killian couldn't bear the sight of it anymore. Angrily, he gathered it in his arms and, with a last glance at the top of the tower, he headed towards a nearby field.
A rough and angry scratch with his hook against the flint and the hair started to burn, a cloud of thick smoke climbing towards the sky. Killian left it all burning, turning his back to the fire and heading towards the town.
He felt sick at the thought that he already wanted to go back, because he'd always wanted to go back to Emma. But now Emma was gone and had left their… no, his daughter in that blasted tower.
Killian came back one hour later, a duffel bag thrown over his shoulder full of things the old women of the village had told him he would need and the awareness of having done something good by leaving the Jolly Roger to Smee, his daughter's cry in his ears. He climbed the tower as fast as he could, ignoring the pain in his shoulder.
Once inside he carefully dropped the bag and the coat on the armchair before moving towards the crib and lifting his daughter into his arms. Her cries seemed to quiet, her eyes now wide open, looking at him as if wanting to steal his soul. But it was too late, her bright blue eyes, his own, had already stolen everything he had to offer, even his heart.
Still, the wee lass was whimpering, eyes filled with tears. «Shush, little one,» Killian murmured, kissing her forehead, «shush, my little Starfish, your Papa is here, now.» She'd stopped crying, but her whimpering hadn't.
Sitting down onto the chair nearby, Killian started to gently rock her. He opened his mouth to say something, but all he could do was sing. «She stepped away from me, and she moved through the fair, and fondly I watched her, and she turned her way homeward with one star awake…»
His mother's lullaby. Again. Killian smiled, his deep voice had managed to calm her. «Well,» Killian whispered, unable to stop rocking her, «I suppose I, uhm, I should… I should call you something.» He felt the tips of his ears turn red at his stammering. «I've only ever known one person good enough to pass on their name, my mother.»
Yes, he couldn't think of a better name, one that he loved as dearly as that one. «Yeah, she, uh, she tried to stay with me as long as she could,» he confessed, remembering very little of her, just her red hair and the flavour of oranges that always followed her. He also remembered her death, her blue eyes closing for the last time as her last breath was used to sing that lullaby to her sons.
Killian looked back down to his daughter, a soft yawn gracing her features as she snuggled more into the blanket. His heart swelled in his chest. «And I vow to do the same for you, Alice.»
You are probably hating me right now and I deserve it all, I do, but I'm even crying because I love Knightrook so much and I've written the last bits while listening to Peter Hollen's cover of She Moved Through The Fair, so yeah, I'm a crying mess.
Iwon't be saying anything about the Emma situation because I will explain everything, just hold on and stay with me, okay?
I want to thank everyone who left a review and all the kudos and favourites and everything. I'm really glad.
Now I'll go listening to this song until I cry myself to sleep.
