A/N: I'm so terrible with author's notes. But I wanted to add content warnings for this chapter: Sexual situations, and mention of kidnapping. Not at the same time. Make sure to stop over to my tumblr (lifeinahole27) to see the beautiful artwork that goes with this story!
For almost as long as he can remember, Killian has been a friend of the castle. Liam, fifteen years his senior, starts climbing the ranks of the navy even before Killian is left in his care at age seven. With their mother recently passed and their father presumed dead after he disappeared one night several years ago, Killian is left in the charge of the palace workers because of his brother's status.
It doesn't take long for the princess to take interest in him, this newcomer just two years older than she, and Killian is thankful for it every day. His life growing up with Emma is one of constant adventures of the mind, and their imaginations take them to every corner of the known world, and beyond.
As they grow, so does his fondness for the princess. Emma, the beloved and respected heiress of the throne, becomes known for her own brand of mischief, but also for encompassing a deep well of love for the people of her kingdom. She earns the surname Swan after it's shown that she exhibits grace in the face of the public, even if she moves more like a calf still learning to walk when behind the palace walls. As a bonus, Killian has also been witness to another characteristic she shares with the birds that bide their time in the garden fountains. When provoked, Princess Emma will not hesitate to snap at those she feels deserve it.
When Emma begins to show signs of magic, they bring in fairies to start training her and honing her skills. Killian watches in fascination as she creates delicate swirls of fire or water, as she manipulates the air and cascades a line of sparks around her in a circle. He watches as she learns to control not only the magic, but also her emotions, as the two go hand in hand. Only once does she singe the bushes in the courtyard when her temper flares, but that's the day that her parents tell her that she'll be expected to find a suitor to marry when she grows older.
Killian joins the navy for two reasons. The first is to follow in the footsteps of his brother, and the second is to somehow make himself more worthy of Emma's attentions. It's at the age of eighteen that Killian first entertains the thought that Emma might one day view him in a romantic light, however he is well aware of their difference in status. As it happens, his undeniable intuition and his organized nature make him valuable to the inner workings of the fleet from his position on the land, while Liam moves up from captain to commodore out on the open waters.
It doesn't hurt, either, that the strategy position means Killian is never far from Emma. Under the king and queen's watchful eyes, they not only grow together, but also begin a very long, drawn-out courtship. They spend every moment between their duties as royal and lieutenant locked in the delicate art of flirtation and subtlety. Still, it takes them much longer to develop from first kiss to full courting.
It's during one of these moments that Emma tells Killian to meet her in the flower fields, and he finds her playing with the tendrils of her magic, the blooms changing all colors of the rainbow with her in the center of the beautiful chaos.
"Emma!" he calls out, some mixture of fondness and exasperation in his tone as he smiles at her antics. She's beautiful in her tumultuous jubilation, her smile shining brighter than the sun above her. With a snap of her fingers, every flower in the field goes back to normal and she makes her way over to him. The hem of her dress is slightly darkened by the dew and dirt, but she doesn't seem to notice or care as she wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls herself close to him.
"You're getting much stronger," he comments as his hands go to her waist.
"That's not why I asked you here," she says, pressing her forehead to his as she sighs in contentment. "I've told my parents not to invite suitors to my birthday celebrations this year."
His heart speeds up, but he tries to keep his tone calm as he utters one syllable of a question. "Oh?" It's been years since their first kiss, their only kiss to date, but still he hopes more than he ever has before.
There's another hum, and she opens her eyes as she drops back to her bare feet, her smile the very definition of happiness. "I've told them that I have an interest in someone that I'd prefer to explore." Her right hand comes forward to stroke along his cheek. Her thumb playfully dips into the dimple in his cheek, deepening it further as his smile spreads wider.
From there they only blossom together, much like the flowers in their field. Every chance they get, they stroll in the gardens together, her arm linked through his, and talk of everything and nothing at all. They duck behind hedges to kiss, hiding from her parents as they explore the tender beginnings of intimacy. They go no further than kissing, as is only appropriate, but as the summer stretches towards autumn, Killian knows that this bond between them is real, and he wants it forever.
In the weeks leading up to Princess Emma's twenty-fifth birthday, a lot of changes take place. Some of these changes, like the ones that Killian is involved with, are nothing but good. He's still in a pleasant state of shock that Emma returns his affections, and he spends the time before her birthday celebration ball looking for the perfect, official ring for his bride-to-be.
Thankfully, the palace jeweler finishes the ring he commissions with only days to spare, and with the ring in hand, Killian requests an audience with the king. He only speaks to Emma's father as a courtesy, as he wishes for the man's blessing, even if Emma would marry Killian with or without permission. His own brother, as beloved as he may be, knows nothing of his younger brother's courtship. It doesn't help that Liam is gone for months at a time. How is Killian to sum up his fortunes in a matter of lines to be sent to the Commodore of the First Armada of the Misthaven Royal Navy?
The talk with King David is nerve wracking to the highest degree. It's not just asking for a king's blessing, but everything that they discuss once David settles into an armchair across from Killian.
"You've been a member of this castle since you were very young, Killian. You've worked hard to gain your rank with the navy. And if you are Emma's choice, then I have no room to say otherwise, not that I would. For what it matters, you both have my blessing, and I'll save the protective father speech for another day." David holds up his hand when Killian opens his mouth. He would never dream of hurting Emma, or ever leaving her.
"There are things you need to know now, to take into consideration as you head towards an engagement, and I'm sure you're aware of some of it with your own military position." He seems to weigh his words for a minute, rubbing a hand over his face as he stops just sort of sighing. "I almost wish I'd told you sooner."
The king looks so serious, and suddenly so tired, that Killian fights to shift in his seat. "Whatever it is, your majesty, I am ready to hear it."
"Of course, Killian. You've always been ready to jump into battles you can't see," David says amiably. His smile flashes quickly, before his expression reverts to one of concentration. "There is a prophecy we've learned of recently, in which Emma is the remaining hope for destroying the Dark One. He knows of this, and we're afraid that he's going to attack Emma in some way. We've enforced all the security around the castle that we can, but no plan is impenetrable. You understand that, don't you?"
Killian nods, beginning to understand the delicate nature of this talk. "And I'm to help in this plan to defend the princess?"
"Everyone has a part to play here. Just stay vigilant at all times. If we can just make it out of this month unscathed, we have a chance of beating him. We've even called your brother's fleet home to protect the shoreline. I just hope he's back in time for the ball tomorrow night."
At the mention of his brother, Killian does shift in his seat. Liam knows nothing of his plans to marry Emma, and he still isn't sure whether or not his brother will approve.
"By your expression, I take it Commodore Jones doesn't know what has happened on the land in his absence."
"Aye, your majesty. I'm afraid he's a little behind on the events of my life."
"Well, I hope this will give you brothers an opportunity to catch up when everything settles. Have you gotten a ring for her?"
At the switch of topics again, Killian's smile spreads again. "Aye," he says dreamily, pulling the small pouch from the inside pocket of his jacket and upending it for the king to see the masterpiece. King David takes it from his palm and holds it up, admiring the smooth band and the reflective gem.
"Not as ornate as I expected you to get, which means you've catered to Emma's tastes instead of your own. You're already shaping up to be a wise husband." For the first time during the whole conversation, Killian finally relaxes enough to laugh.
He excuses himself a short time later, heading towards the princess's quarters as if his body is naturally drawn in that direction. The birthday celebrations are still a day away, but he knows she's taken to hiding out in her quarters to avoid the bustling masses. He inspects his uniform for wrinkles, or any sign of imperfection, as he walks. After all, he has much to discuss with his beloved.
Love. It's a concept he never fully intended to discover, as his own family being ripped apart felt like a sign that he should keep his head at his station and never look for any of life's pleasures. And then the princess tilted her head to consider him, and even at the tender age of seven, he handed over a piece of his heart to her. He, a simple son of a captain gone missing, orphaned at a young age, somehow worthy of the cherub-faced girl that grew up into a headstrong, intelligent woman.
He's just about to tap on the door to Princess Emma's quarters when he sees the door is slightly ajar and voices are speaking from within. He has every intention of moving down the hall a bit, to give Emma her privacy, but he hears Queen Snow's voice echoing the information that King David has just passed along to him.
"We're going to do everything we need to in order to keep you safe, Emma."
"I know, Mother."
"I want you to have this for the time being," the queen continues after a pause. He's tempted to peek through the opening in the door to see what it is Queen Snow is giving to her daughter, but he cannot intrude on their privacy that way.
There's no need, though, especially from the princess's shocked words that follow. "This – this is your wedding ring. Why would you give me this?"
A heavy silence falls over the two women while Queen Snow seems to gather her words. "Even the fairies are worried that the precautions we've taken aren't enough. There's going to be a protection spell over the castle the night of your ball, but it can only last so long. And the fairies, well, they can only make it so strong."
Hearing this, and hearing the way the queen speaks of her worries so candidly with her daughter, the pit that took up residence in Killian's stomach before his talk with the king grows a little larger. He leans his head against the wall and evens out his breathing, sending up a wish with each exhalation that they can all manage to keep the princess safe.
"With this ring, and the one I'm sure is on the way from a certain young man that is enamored with you, maybe in the face of the worst case, you'll always remember that we will find you, Emma. We will always find you."
There's a muffled sniffle, and he's not sure which one of them it comes from, but he's sure there must be an embrace involved.
"Okay, now that's out of the way, I do believe I'm off to the kitchens to see how the preparations are going for tomorrow night. You'll join me shortly to check on all the details, yes?"
"Yes, I will. Thanks, Mother."
Killian pushes off the wall and quickly makes as if he was just walking down the hall, and it's as he's reaching the door that Queen Snow emerges from Emma's room.
"Good morning, Killian," Snow greets him warmly.
"Good morning, your majesty. It's a beautiful day for preparing for a princess's birthday, if I may say."
"Right you are. Oh, and I do hope you had a nice chat with the king," she says, a sly smile appearing as she turns just enough to look back at him. "Have a good day, Killian."
He stumbles over his farewell, taking a moment to breathe deep again before knocking on the door before entering.
"Who is it?"
"A dashing pirate, ready to steal you away and sail the high seas," Killian growls out as he sticks his head through the space. He moves further into the room, catching her eye in the reflection of the mirror on her vanity.
"Oh!" Emma feigns, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead as she spins in place on her vanity stool, "but who will save me!" They both snicker, with Emma dropping her hand as she rises from her seat.
"Good morning, love." He joins his hands behind his back, standing straight and trying to appear calm despite the roiling of his thoughts.
"And to you," she replies, moving to stand in front of him and reaching out to rub the pad of one finger down the detailing on his uniform coat. He's helpless from stopping himself when he reaches out and clasps her hand in his. He brings it to his lips, letting them linger on the soft skin on the back of her hand.
She hums, sounding content and happy as she looks at him with affection she can't seem to hide now that they've been honest with each other about their feelings.
"I trust you slept well?"
"I did, with all sorts of wonderful dreams about a certain set of lips and that spot you've just discovered behind my ear." She bites her lip after she says it, smiling so wide that her eyes crinkle up and a light blush heightens her coloring.
"I look forward to finding all the spots you enjoy as much as that one," Killian murmurs, careful to keep his voice low so if Emma's dressing maids are still anywhere nearby, they won't hear.
Emma presses forward, wrapping her arms around Killian's neck as she reaches behind him to push the door closed. "I wouldn't mind finding one or two of your sensitive spots, you know."
"You'll hear no objections from me."
"I only have a moment before I have to go help my mother," she says, a furrow forming between her eyebrows. "Kiss me until I must go?"
"As you wish," Killian says immediately, more than happy to attempt to put a smile back on her face before she heads off to deal with last minute details and party planning.
"The maids have all gone, if you're worried about that," Emma murmurs between meetings of their lips.
"That sounds like you want me to do more than just kiss you, love."
"Maybe," Emma says coyly. She doesn't let him argue one way or the other, though, as she leans up again to capture his lips in a rough kiss. Her lips will be red if he lets her continue any longer, and her mother need not know what they've been up to, so Killian decides to take their little tryst in a different direction. Her gown is already laced over a corset, and they certainly don't have time to remove all those layers, so he improvises. It also gives him a chance to ask for something he's wanted to try for a few weeks.
"Will you permit me to love you with my mouth, Swan?"
By the way her eyes darken and she sucks in a quick breath, he knows she's intrigued by the idea. They've not gone this far. They've barely touched each other at this point but there's something so enticing about the possibility of tasting her that makes him want it now, before he'll not get to see her again until they meet at the ball the next night. There's also a possibility that tomorrow will mean more than just the birthday of the woman he loves.
All those thoughts fly away, far far away, when Emma quickly nods her head. Pulling him down for another kiss as she drags him over to the nearest chair in her sitting room. "How...?"
"Hold on, love. I've got to - "
"Killian, just pull - "
They both pause as they laugh, trying to find their way beneath the skirts of Emma's dress.
He bites down hard on his lip when he finally makes his way beneath the necessary layers. While he is twenty-seven years of age, he's spent most of his time pining after Emma. The rest of the time, he's kissed a lass here and there, but just as much as Emma's kissed a lad or two, if memory serves. This right here, as he eases her knickers down, is something he's only heard about from ill-reputable sources or saw in the illustrated guide a group of sailors brought to the tavern one day.
"Are you sure, Emma?" They've already wasted so much time just getting to this moment, so maybe they should just wait.
"Are you sure, Killian?" The tone of her voice is all the answer he needs, but he makes sure to unbury himself for just a moment to see her face, to raise his eyebrow at the sass, before he ducks back under her skirts.
The stories he heard from other sailors fuel the moments that follow, as his lips brush against her heated skin. The soft 'oh' he hears from Emma is encouraging, though, so he presses further. Her legs widen further, allowing him all the access he needs to finally taste her properly. Her body directs him, from that moment forward. Although her quiet sounds are muffled by the fabric over his head, Killian strains to hear every whimper and gasp, obeys when she tells him to stay where he is or move to a new spot, and groans against her in earnest when she asks for a finger to be inserted. It seems he's not the only one that's been seeking outside education in the matters of pleasure.
When her skirts suddenly disappear from around him and her hands find his head, Killian worries that he's gone astray from her desires. He starts to pull away but she frantically commands him not to move, to not stop exactly as he's doing, and it takes only a few more moments before he feels her climax taking her over the edge. Her breathing stops for a moment, just a few inhaled gasps taken in and held, before she clenches her thighs on either side of his head and holds him there.
His name is her quiet incantation for the stretch of time she's immobilized, until all her muscles relax. He eases away, then, taking in the rosy tint that spreads from her cheeks, down her neck, to even the tops of her breasts. Emma's head is resting on the back of the chair, a serene smile lighting up her whole face. Her hands, which had fallen away as she slumped back, surge forward to tug at his shoulders.
"No, no, Swan – " She kisses him before he can stop her, and he watches with enjoyment as she pulls away just as quickly. She touches her fingertips to her lips, her eyes slightly wide at the taste of herself on his lips, before she smiles and kisses him again.
"You were marvelous, Killian." Her voice is dreamy when she leans back and speaks. "I can't even find words to describe what that felt like, but I assure you, you'll be finding out soon how it'll feel on you."
He's painfully hard in his uniform trousers, and Emma's words don't help one bit. But she's already surely missed from her party planning, and Killian has his own details to see to, now that he's helping tighten up security.
"I will look forward to that, my love. For now, you must see to your celebration."
She deflates a little when she realizes he's correct, and they work together to make sure her undergarments and skirts are all back in proper place before she checks her hair. The flush is still fading from her fair skin, but it can be passed off as exertion when she will have to all but run to the kitchens.
"I'll see you tomorrow night," Emma says as she kisses him softly after they've both freshened up a bit. They talk quietly, standing just outside the door to her quarters but still cautious of any who might be around.
"Until then, Swan," he kisses the back of her hand one more time and bows over it, accepting her smile and the hand she places gently against his cheek as she returns the sentiments.
She's gone in a flurry of skirts, after that, and Killian turns on his heel to go find the men he needs to talk to about the perimeters of the gardens.
-x-
Perhaps it's due to Killian's familiarity with the undecorated ballroom that makes it feel so much more amazing to walk through the double doors at the far end the night of Emma's birthday. He arrives early, before a majority of the guests, though some have already been escorted in and are mingling with family members and friends. Killian walks the room slowly, greeting those he knows warmly and enquiring after their health before he continues his circuit.
There are troubling tales, even at such a festive gathering, as Killian overhears stories of people gone missing, or suspected kidnappings. He listens as carefully as his slow pace permits before continuing onward. These kinds of gossip are common, especially in the quiet moments before gatherings, and even more so when there's such terrible darkness out beyond the walls of the castle.
For ages, the Dark One has lurked in the corners of the world, and the prophecy the king mentioned comes back to him, reminding Killian that Emma is allegedly part of what could bring Rumplestiltskin, along with the whole history - centuries - of Dark Ones down.
The beginning of the ball will consist of dinner, and so tables are situated through the entirety of the room. Killian walks among those to admire the details that Queen Snow and Emma have considered. The cutlery is all sleek and plain, much like Emma prefers, as are the plates and glasses at each setting. It'll all be cleared away for the second half of the celebration, so that the guests can all lose themselves in the dancing and music.
He rests in this moment for just a moment, his finger gliding along the handle of the nearest fork before he goes to meet with the soldiers that will be patrolling and the fairies that will be guarding them. From that moment forward, the ball gets even more opulent as the chandeliers are lit and hoisted, as all the wall sconces receive their flames. The lanterns that were lit for early mingling are shuffled away until it's time to douse all the party lights. Killian watches all of this, nodding in approval as everything falls into place for Emma's wonderful day.
As the ball gets underway, Killian is somehow still amazed at how busy he is the whole time. He takes one moment before the guest of honor joins, off to the side with the rest of the soldiers, to eat a quick plate of the princess's favorite delicacies. He's thankful for the distraction of his own assignments and that he needs to circulate amongst the guests and members of his own military; Emma's had to spend so much time and attention on all her guests that he's not even had a moment to say hello properly, yet.
There's a small break in the festivities, where the guests shuffle out of the way and servants replace them to clear away the tables and chairs, and then the small chamber orchestra sets up in one corner to begin tuning their instruments. It's the midway point in the evening, and as beautiful as it all is, and as stunning as Emma looks, he's able to breathe a little easier that they've reached this point. The wavering sounds of strings being tuned echoes around the ballroom for a moment before they quiet and the first true note begins.
The first dance at the princess's birthday always belongs to the king, but Killian takes the chance to work his way closer by presenting himself to the queen for a dance. She smiles at him, that one that borders on matronly, as he bows low and holds out his hand. With the queen's hand in his, they make their way to the dance floor to join Emma and King David.
Emma's smile when she spots them could light the ballroom all on its own, and as soon as the first dance ends, King David gives him a knowing look and he cuts in on Killian's dance with Queen Snow so that Killian can dance with his daughter. Other couples begin to join, forming swirls of color much like her favorite trick with the flowers, as dresses of all colors move around the floor.
It's the first time Killian has a chance to really get a look at her, other than flashes of red from the corner of his eye as she moved from one dignitary to the other. Up close, he admires the fine details of the embroidery on her dress and enjoys the rustling of her skirts as they go through the movements of the waltz.
"You look absolutely stunning tonight, Swan."
She preens a little at the comment, her eyes darting downward and her lashes fluttering as she graciously accepts the compliment. "You're looking very fine yourself, lieutenant. Have I mentioned how much I enjoy the dress uniforms?"
"I know," he says, full cockiness in her voice to make her chuckle in response.
"I'll have to dance with a few of my guests for a while, but save me a dance or two before the end of the evening, yes?"
"Aye, your highness, I'll save them all for you if you'd like." He wants to reach out and stroke the curve of her cheek, to taste her painted lips, to whisper all her deepest desires against the shell of her ear. Instead, he repeats the same low bow for her when the song ends, giving her one meaningful look before moving away to fetch himself a drink.
He's just finished a perimeter walk and checking in with some of the guards when a broad chest interrupts his path. He almost berates whoever has just run into him, but he recognizes that coat, and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise to see Liam before him. He'd heard his brother was back but had yet to actually see him.
"Welcome home, brother," Killian says, a smile breaking across his face as the older man pulls him into a bear hug. Killian slaps him on the back a few times, not only to further his greeting but also to remind Liam that he needs to breathe and that he's hugging him too tight.
"Goodness, Killian. I couldn't tell if they were feeding you too little or too much when I first saw you, but I do believe that's all muscle you've put on. And here I figured since you took an assignment on land that you'd go all soft on me," Liam says, the twinkle in his eye reminding Killian that he's joking, but the barb still stinging just a touch.
"I may require that my mind be stronger than my body where I'm stationed, but I keep both very sharp, indeed."
"Come, let's talk about that positioning you suggested for the Second Armada outside of Arendelle."
With one last furtive glance back at his princess, Killian lets himself be dragged away for talks of politics and military and naval strategy. Liam grills him on his choice to stay on land instead of going out to work his way through the ranks, and it takes a lot of patience for Killian to not talk back to his older brother in a manner unbecoming. Liam doesn't question any more of his personal life, preferring instead to talk of life with his Armada or the rationing of treats among sailors to keep up morale.
It's nearly half an hour before he can get back to the dance floor, back to Emma and that very fetching dress which he admires a little more each time he sees it, and when he's able to slip in to be her next dance partner, he notices how much she perks up when she catches sight of him.
"Oh, thank goodness, it's you. I've just had the most dreadful last few partners and I value my toes."
"You're only happy to see me so your dainty little feet don't get squished by the uncoordinated men in attendance, then?"
"That, and because I happen to be rather fond of you," she adds, smiling when he twirls her expertly and brings her back into the hold. "I saw you chatting with Liam earlier. Was it just me or were you wearing an expression akin to what I gather you'd look like if someone was stabbing you during the whole conversation?"
"Stabbing might have been less painful, love."
"That bad?"
"Aye, which is why I'm much happier to be with you, right here, right now, instead of seeking out more thrilling conversations about the armada." He's thankful that the next dance step brings her close so he can whisper in her ear. "Plus, when we're close like this, I can very nearly see down that dress of yours and I'm very hopeful that the black corset of yours is all lace and that I get to see more of it later."
When the next move shifts them, Emma raises an eyebrow at him, otherwise staying silent, but he can practically hear her thoughts through that look. If he wants to find her maids mysteriously out of the way and the door to her antechamber unlocked tonight, he'd better be on his best behavior for the rest of the dance and evening or else neither of them will go to bed in good moods tonight.
"I'll find you for the last dance of the evening," she tells him, smiling a little as she says so and accepting his bow. "Go try to enjoy yourself a little, for the sake of my birthday?"
"Aye, your highness, I will do so." He leaves the dance floor before anyone else can claim a dance with him, and heads back to the gardens for a breath of fresh air.
The security around the castle is impeccable, as far as he's concerned. Every time he's done a walk to check on them tonight, everyone has been exactly where they're supposed to be. All the fairies, dedicated to their role in the realm, have been steadfastly homed in on making sure their dust and spells are all in order. When he's reassured that everything they've carefully planned is still in place, he heads back to the party to mingle again. He tries to spend a little time with his brother, and even dedicates a little time to dancing with the ladies he's met before, usually mothers of his favorite soldiers or friends of the royal family.
As promised, Emma appears at his side to save him from a dreadfully dull conversation about expense reports of some sort between Liam and another commodore. She's clearly growing tired, but she's still enjoying herself by the looks of it. She's surprisingly affectionate for a public event, and over her shoulder, he catches sight of Liam's questioning look. Before his brother can put any pieces together, he makes sure they pass behind a few more couples to hide them from view.
"For the record, as soon as I'm dressed for bed and my gown has been stored, I intend to send my maids away for the evening so they might have a little bit of an early night," Emma says mid-way through the dance. "Just so you know, for security purposes, of course."
"It's important to know these things," he comments, and longs to continue by teasing her, but the other couples dancing are far too close. Not only that, but another shift around a pair brings them side by side with her parents.
They both look approvingly at their daughter's final dance partner of the evening, and he so hopes that when he sees them tomorrow, he'll be betrothed to their daughter. The looks they give him before they spin away say they hope for it, too.
This time, when the song concludes, Killian makes sure to kiss her hand as he bows over it, making sure to whisper that he'll be at her quarters just as soon as he can be, before they go their separate ways for the end of the celebrations. He watches a short time later as the princess is escorted back to her rooms, followed by her parents, and the ballroom clears of all the guests. He wants to make sure that the changing of the guard goes off without a problem, and he bids his brother a good night afterwards as they go to their own rooms.
Waiting for the palace to quiet down afterwards is one of the hardest things to do, and Killian has to make sure that he times it just right so that no one will be awake to question why he's wandering towards the princess's rooms. After what seems like too long of a time, he eases out of his room and shuts the door firmly behind himself. He has to take a roundabout way that seems to take him in the opposite direction at first, just to be certain that everyone else is where they're supposed to be, before he heads swiftly to her chambers.
The antechamber door is, in fact, unlocked when he tries the handle. He makes sure to secure it after he enters, making his way back to her bedroom with a candle to light the way. He almost drops it as he turns from shutting the door behind himself, as Emma is lounging as casually as she can, wearing nothing but the lace corset and skirts that leave very little to his imagination.
"No, no, darling. I do believe it's supposed to be your birthday, and I'm supposed to have a present for you. This feels quite backwards to me."
"I'm pretty sure we can turn this into a mutual gift, so get over here already," she commands. He sets his candle down on her nightstand to join the ones she already has lit before moving to stand in front of her. She sits up when he does, leaning into his hand as he caresses her cheek and closes her eyes. He wants to tell her so many different things right now, like how much he loves her and how beautiful and poised she looked all evening. He wants to say that there's no way he deserves her, but that he would also possibly expire on the spot if she rejected his proposal. Thinking of the ring makes him consider getting it now, asking her now, but instead he leans down to kiss her.
Emma takes the initiative in undressing him, removing his suspenders from his shoulders and pulling his shirt from where it was tucked into his trousers. He bends to quickly remove his stockings, and marveling at the plushness of the ornate rug beneath her bed before he's brought back to reality.
"Killian, I'd like to love you with my mouth, like you did to me. And then I want you to make love to me."
"Darling, are you sure you don't want to wait?"
"You said you wanted to give me a present. And this is all I can ask of you tonight."
"Turn around, so I might help you out of that lovely undergarment, then." She smiles at him, this one a combination of her excitement and her love for him, and he basks in the warmth that they will be irreversibly joined very soon. She stands and turns for him, unfastening the skirts from the waist of the corset and tossing them to the side. She's forgone her own stockings, and he realizes she really wasn't wearing anything else under the skirts when he gets his first unhindered look at her pert, perfect backside. His hands stray, briefly, to run the backs of his fingers over the smooth skin he finds there, before he focuses again on loosening the laces.
When enough of the corset is loose, she unhooks the front, letting the two halves part while her back is still turned towards him. She stands there, haloed by the glow of the candles, nothing but bare skin from the nape of her neck to the soles of her feet, and Killian isn't sure he can breathe. This is such a monumental moment for them, and will only be overshadowed by the moment he asks her to be his wife (as soon as he can remember how to speak again) and the moment he does truly become her husband.
And then she turns toward him.
He thought he was breathless before, but she's now standing before him, naked, and moving to remove the trousers that have become far too confining in the past couple minutes. While she eases them over his erection, he finally moves into action and yanks his shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor just as he steps out of the bottoms.
While he drinks in the sights of her skin, she does the same to him, reaching out to touch his chest in awe, to run her fingers down the hair she finds there, until her palm is closing around his cock and he can see stars behind his closed eyelids.
"Killian," she calls to him softly. "Touch me."
He opens his eyes to see the lust burning in hers, and he starts by tentatively reaching out to cup one of her breasts, marveling in the way it feels and the taut nipple pushing against his palm. She pushes into the contact, moaning as he gently massages and brings up his other hand to do the same to both at once.
She lets him keep up at that for a few minutes, with her fingers gliding up and down the length of him in a featherlight touch, until she guides him back to her bed. She kneels on the mattress, but when he tries to sit up, she pushes him back and instructs him how she wants him to lay. Once he's in position, Emma seems to steady herself before she reaches for his cock again.
"You'll tell me how you like it?"
He can't verbalize, not when her breath is blowing across the head of him, so he nods and watches with wide eyes as she eases the foreskin down his shaft and closes her mouth around the tip.
"Bloody hell, Emma," he whispers, because it's the only volume his voice can reach that doesn't sound like he's shouting in pleasure in his own mind. She hums around him, and he quickly tries to think of anything to stave off the orgasm that's edging up on him. "Emma, Emma my love, you can't – I can't…" He's on the brink of climax from having his cock in her mouth for less than a full minute and if he doesn't stop her now, this evening will end rather quickly. And he's so been working on longevity during his private pleasure times, too. All wasted, in the face of reality.
He shifts, careful to ease her away from his delicate part before putting her in the same position he was just in. She looks adorably befuddled, but also worried, so he moves to quickly reassure her.
"It felt too good, Swan. I wanted to be able to last for the rest of your requests, and I can't do that when your mouth feels like heaven. Where on earth did you learn to do that wondrous thing with your tongue?"
"I practiced kissing once I was old enough with the maids of mine that are also my age." His eyes widen at this information, but she smirks at him. "Don't act so scandalized. You practiced kissing with my maids once or twice, as well. Anyway, they've given me great amounts of advice on how to please both ladies and men."
He shakes his head, marveled as always at this intrepid princess that he fears he may always be two steps behind. With no further response to really give, he turns back to the idea of bringing them both pleasure, and decides to revisit what he tried on her yesterday.
"Killian…" His name melts on her tongue as he makes his way back down her body, stopping to kiss and love her breasts for a moment now that there's nothing hindering him from doing so.
"Hush, love," he speaks as he trails kisses down her stomach. "This will allow me to give you the gift you've requested once I've calmed my blood a little."
She tastes sweeter today than she did yesterday, and he eases her thighs further apart as he dips his tongue into her. He brings his hand up to rub at her clit, incredibly glad for whichever lad it was that told them all of the pleasurable spot to ensure a woman orgasmed. He must move in the correct combination because Emma arches off the bed with a gasp, the moan that follows much more wanton than he's ever heard in their months of tentative exploration.
Without breaking contact for long, he trails a finger down to slip inside while he moves to focus his lips on her clit this time. He finds a rhythm that she seems to appreciate, with the way her hips thrust against his mouth in time. As best he can without stopping, Killian looks up the length of her body, feeling his own arousal renewed at the way her hands massage at her own breasts, the way her head tilts back into the mattress as she makes noises that urge him to keep going. Knowing she's about to scold him for stopping, he does so anyway, only to slide up the length of her body to kiss her.
"Are you positive you want to, Emma?"
"I'm sure," she says, nodding. He sees the lust in her eyes, but he also sees the love she's not spoken of yet.
In preparation, he adds another finger to the one that was already working in and out of her. He just doesn't want to hurt her. By the looks of it, though, especially with the flush that spreads down her chest, he's fairly certain she doesn't know what pain is right now. Regardless, he makes sure when he replaces his fingers with the tip of his penis that he goes as slow as he can without diminishing their pleasure.
He's barely fully sunk into her when he feels his climax building again, and it doesn't help when Emma clenches around him. They both react to that – Emma with praise for how good he feels and Killian with obscenities at how he'll surely die before this is over.
"I don't care if you last long tonight, Killian. I'm so close. We're both so close. Move and touch me and let go." Sure enough, she's covered in a sheen of sweat, one that has little to do with exertion and more to do with being so close to climax for far too long, especially if she was as aroused as he was when he entered her room.
He moves – slow, deep thrusts that get harder as he gets surer that he's not hurting her in any way. He knows he's not when Emma reaches down to grab his backside, guiding him in again and again. He remembers what else she said, working a hand between them and finding her clit with sure fingers to bring her over the edge. When she pulls him down roughly and holds him in place, he lets her take what she needs, bending to kiss her when she asks him to.
Feeling her come around his cock is an entirely different experience than feeling it around his fingers. As soon as her climax begins, it sets off his, and he sucks in a breath and holds it as he presses into her. His face gets buried in her hair and it's only once she starts to come down from her own that Emma reminds him to breathe as her hands slide up along his spine.
The air whooshes out of him, and he groans as an aftershock of hers causes one of his own. It's so tempting to let himself collapse on her, but he remembers that he likes her alive and not smothered, so he rolls off to the side.
They both remain immobile for a minute, their panting breaths echoing around the large room as the sweat dries on their skin. She rolls to him, then, her bare breasts pressed against his chest as she drapes herself over him, and she kisses him long and deep.
"That may be the best birthday gift I've ever received," she tells him once she pulls away.
"It'll supposedly get better once it can last longer," he comments, enjoying the way she laughs as she moves off the bed to retrieve a towel she had folded on a nearby settee. Once she's cleaned herself, she runs it over his softened cock to clean up some of the mess before balling it up and hiding it at the bottom of her dirty clothes. She fetches a clean nightgown for herself while Killian turns down the bed for them, figuring it's the least he can do at this point. He considers proposing before they turn in for the night, but when Emma climbs back onto the bed, he can see the exhaustion pulling her down.
In the morning – he can make her breakfast and propose in the morning.
For now, he climbs in next to her and pulls the covers over them both. Before sleep can claim them, he remembers to wish Emma a very happy birthday, and whispers his love to her as she closes her eyes.
"So perfect," she reiterates, murmuring her gratitude in return. He'd be offended if he didn't know her so well to know she's awful at expressing her emotions in words. Instead, she curls even closer to him, placing a kiss on the nearest skin she finds before drifting off to sleep.
Killian wakes before she does, with the sun filtering through the doors to her private balcony and just lighting upon Emma's sleeping features. They're still close – not as fully fitted together as they were when they fell asleep, but his hand is trapped between their pillows by Emma's hand. He doesn't mean to wake her, but she stirs as soon as he shifts his hand, and she scoots closer to relinquish his hand in favor of wrapping her arms around him instead.
"Good morning, my pirate," she says in greeting, and he smiles down at her.
"And good morning to you, my princess." She accepts the kiss he gives her, sighing happily as their lips move against each other. Her hand wanders across his bare chest, and he watches the cogs turn in her head as she considers his still-nude state. "Ah, ah. No, my love. You still need some rest. I'm going to make you breakfast, however, and bring it to you here and as soon as you're nourished, you can think about ravishing me within an inch of my life again, aye?"
"Oh fine," she responds, but it's barely more than another sigh as she snuggles against him. "Just stay with me until I fall back to sleep, though."
"Of course, Swan."
She takes one more kiss from him before settling back down against her pillows. He waits until her breathing evens out before carefully extracting himself from the covers. He tucks them back around her, making sure she's warm and safe before he re-dresses in the clothes he wore last night.
The palace is still asleep, so he makes his way back to his quarters with no issue at all, ducking into his chambers and heading straight for his dressing room. He catches sight of himself in the mirror when he enters, his grin wide on his face as he takes in the disarrayed hair and the stubble coming in. He rubs a hand over his face, considering shaving before heading to the kitchens but deciding it can wait.
He shucks his dirty clothes and pulls on fresh, making sure to comb his hair and clean his teeth before he retrieves the ring and makes off for the kitchen. Some of the staff are likely to be awake, which means he won't be making an utter fool of himself in an attempt to cook, which actually calms him from the nerves that have built over his plan.
If any of them are surprised to see him, they don't show it. But they happily take the gold he offers in exchange for setting up a beautiful breakfast setting for the princess. They all buzz with excitement when he pulls the pouch from his pocket, and they all help arrange the ring in such a manner that the food surrounds but doesn't touch it. The plate is topped with a cover to keep everything warm, and then they all but push him out the door so they can start spreading their gossip about the princess being engaged.
Between the kitchen and the princess's rooms, Killian counts his steps and his blessings, fully sure that he could spend one, maybe even two, hundred years on this earth and still not love anyone as much as he loves Emma. With careful maneuvering, Killian gets through the door to the antechamber and shoulders his way through the door he propped open when he left.
Surprisingly, the bed is empty, and Killian surmises that she may have woken up to relieve herself. Perhaps she woke and decided to dress herself – one of her favorite activities when she gives the maids a day off. But when he sets the tray of food down and goes looking for her, he finds each room empty. She only managed to throw her corset in the vicinity of her dressing room the night before, and nothing else in there has been moved. He places a hand on the sheets where he left her and finds they're still warm, so she couldn't have gotten far.
Outside, the sun goes behind a scattering of clouds, with the wind gusting beyond the doors. One of them creaks a little, which catches Killian's attention immediately. They kept those closed and locked the night before. He rushes over, seeing the broken hinge immediately and starting to worry. He turns back to the bed, his eyes a little wild, his mind racing a little faster.
The clouds move away, and the sun shines back through the windows at his back. The sun catches something, and Killian moves forward, feeling as if he's suddenly moving below water as he reaches out for the glistening strand on the pillow where Emma so recently smiled lovingly at him.
It's gold. It's a single strand of pure, spun gold, the signature mark of a madman. He barely has time to consider his next move beyond waking the castle and sounding the alarm. He stands in place, clenching and unclenching his fists, maiming the strand in his hand as he does so, and then his limbs finally catch up with his brain.
The guards outside the doors to the king and queen's chambers are understandably alarmed as Killian comes running around the corner, but when he gets close enough, he tries to slow and calm the blind panic and anger coursing through him.
"Are the king and queen awake? It's the princess."
Both of their faces show alarm at the news and one immediately ducks through one of the double doors to report. Killian is waved in a moment later, just as Queen Snow is tying the sash to her robe and joining where King David is already situated with various parchments.
"Killian, what's happened?"
"She's gone," he says, holding out the crumpled strand of gold to them and trying to maintain his composure. He wants to scream, or cry, or find a sorcerer to take him to Emma right this second, but he can't do anything without knowing what course of action they want to take next.
King David lifts the strand, his face hardening at the evidence, while Queen Snow covers her mouth with her hand and her eyes well up with tears.
"David, our Emma. We have to find her."
"We will, Snow. We will," he says, determination strong in his voice as he shoves aside the reports he was reviewing and grabs several blank scrolls to send out as messages.
"Killian, I need you to go wake your brother. We'll need both of you to round up as many men as you can to start searching. If he was able to break in, maybe he couldn't use magic and they're still in the area. But we have to move fast. Go now," the king urges, and Killian immediately turns on his heels to follow his orders.
Liam is just pulling on his boots when Killian practically bursts through his door with barely a knock, and he gives his brother a very pared down version of what's going on to get him moving quicker. They make their way back to the strategy room to receive their next assignment.
"We're in the process of sending messages to our neighboring kingdoms for assistance, and to keep their eyes open for any possibility that he's had to take her without using magic. All our best trackers are out there already, but I want every inch of the kingdom searched. Commodore Jones, I want you to assemble as many of your men as you can to start searching the northeast corner of the village and woods. Take your brother with you."
He moves on to the next commodore and then to the captains after that, which leaves Killian bristling just slightly that he's been tossed in under his brother's command, not even with his own captain, instead of being seen as the man that was about to ask the king's daughter to marry him. He can't even fuss about it, however, as Liam ushers him from the room to gather the men and start their search.
It takes less than an hour for every military man, every castle civilian, and every volunteer they could round up to be searching the entire kingdom. They fan out, going door to door to either ask for clues or ask for them to join the search. They comb the woods, inspecting every bent leaf and broken branch.
Half of Killian is glad to be moving, glad to be keeping busy, but shortly after they begin their campaign to find Emma, Liam is called back to launch a portion of his armada to go to other kingdoms. He takes the news in stride, redoubling his efforts and almost refusing to turn in for the night when they start losing daylight. He has to be verbally reprimanded by his captain, reminding Killian that he'll be of no use to the kingdom if he freezes to death overnight or injures himself without light to search by.
He tries to go back to his own room, first, but he ends up in Emma's when that's where his feet carry him. The lady's maids have been through the room after it was turned upside-down for any other clues. The bedding has been replaced, the bedding they made love on for the first time less that a full night ago. Her corset and wardrobe are tidy, but the tray of food that he set down is still there, and Killian realizes that there's no cushion to break the fall that's about to take place.
Lifting the lid slowly, there's the ruined breakfast, with the ring still pristine in the center. He lifts it, feeling his heart clench in pain in his chest as he stares at it in the low light of the candle he brought and the last of daylight beyond the windows.
The sun will rise on an empty room tomorrow.
"Killian?" He turns quickly at the soft-spoken voice, but it's not his beloved magically returned. It's Queen Snow, standing at the doorway and looking lost and bereft. Her chin quivers as she sees what he's holding, and she slowly strides toward him with a silent request to see it. He doesn't speak, just holds it out for her to take as he swallows hard, swallows back the tears that are now threatening to break free.
"I will find her," he promises, his voice barely more than a growl.
"We will," Queen Snow echoes, looking sadly down at the gem in her hand. "We just need to be patient."
"I was gone barely a half of an hour," he tells her. The fight drains out of him, then, and he drops onto the closest chair. "I shouldn't have –" He realizes what he's said, and what he was about to say, just a moment too late, but the queen doesn't look offended to know that he spent the night with her daughter.
"You couldn't have stopped him. He'd have found a way to get past us eventually." She places her palm on Killian's shoulder, a gesture to comfort a son, and he fights harder to keep his composure. The queen needs strength right now, not to hold him together.
"May I ask a favor, your majesty?"
She nods once, also clearly trying to hold back her emotions.
"Would you mind holding onto that, until I can find her and bring her home to you?"
"Oh, Killian…"
"Please. I'd rather it be somewhere safe, and it's only fair since the ring she has is yours instead of mine."
At that, Snow's lips barely crack into a smile. "I was sure that I'd be getting that back this evening. You know she'd never have kept it if she was showing off yours."
"Aye," Killian agrees, feeling that tightness in his chest all over again. "I know."
"Try to get some rest. The maids have a special tea blend to help you sleep if you need the assistance tonight. I'll have one of them take away this tray."
"I'll carry it down," he tells her, waving her off from touching it. "I just want another moment before I retire for the evening, if that's all right with you."
Instead of a response, Queen Snow reaches out and pats his shoulder again, only bidding him a goodnight when she reaches the door so he can only slightly make out that her voice is breaking when she says it.
He hangs his head when he's alone again, trying to rein in his emotions, tamp down the anger that boils hot in his blood, swallow down the panic that he'll never see his almost-betrothed ever again.
"I promise to find you, Emma. No matter what it takes."
-x-
Nearly a month into their searches, they recall the military forces out in the realm and order them home. Killian is beyond frustrated at this point, knowing that they all know it's the Dark One and that he certainly wouldn't be hiding in some bloody village right under their noses. The only clue they ever found was in the southwest quadrant of the woods, where a scrap of what could've been Emma's nightgown was found on a bramble bush. There were no other signs that she might still be anywhere nearby.
In that time, Killian becomes more vocal about his doubts that this will lead to any breakthroughs in finding the princess. He becomes belligerent on more than one occasion, leading to a meeting with the king and queen so very different from the ones he's ever had with them.
"Killian," Queen Snow says gently. "We're getting disturbing reports back from your captain about your recent behavior."
"We know this is exasperating, waiting for news and hoping for results, but it is the best way to look for Emma right now. We have eyes and ears all over this kingdom, and several others, all looking for the same purpose. We just have to wait for him to slip up."
"He's the bloody Dark One. Don't you get it? He's not going to slip up because he knows the game better than we do!"
"Killian!" The king almost sounds scandalized, as Killian has never raised his voice at them, has never spoken so candidly to them before. And never has he sounded so defeated, either. "You are a lieutenant in the navy under your captain's command. And if that's not good enough, then it's under my command. I need you to be doing your job and not squabbling with every superior you come across. Do you understand me?"
There's a war over his emotions for a moment. There's some shame, that he spoke to the man and woman who have only ever cared for him in such a manner. But he never had a father, and he isn't looking for one now. Still, despite the comment that wants to come out at David's tone, Killian holds back and steels himself.
"Aye, your majesty." He salutes, not meeting either of their gazes as he exits the room. He nearly knocks Liam over on his way back to his quarters.
"Slow down, little brother," Liam says, a gentle but genial smile on his face. Killian scowls, a combination of the pet name and his brother's ability to smile about anything right now.
"It's younger brother, and I'm retiring for the evening."
"It's the middle of the day, Killian. Why – hey! Come back!" Despite Killian's attempt to exude his unwillingness for company, Liam follows him, going so far as to push into his room and shut the door behind them. "What the blazes is your problem, Killian?"
"My problem? The princess is missing. She's been kidnapped by the vilest man in the realm, and we aren't trying hard enough to find her. That is my problem," Killian snaps, removing his jacket and whipping it towards his wardrobe.
"The king and queen are using every resource available to find their daughter. You know how much she means to them. They wouldn't cut any corners where she's concerned. Why – Killian, calm down, brother. Why are you so worked up about this?" Liam just barely manages to dodge one of the boots that Killian sends sailing across the room, followed by the other.
"I was about to ask her to marry me!" Killian finally yells. "And not in a couple days, or a couple hours, Liam, I was on my way back to her room with the bloody ring."
Silence falls over the room after his outburst, and Killian sinks onto the foot of his bed. He runs a hand through his hair, scrubs them both over his face as the full weight of the last month sinks into his bones and soaks up his dwindling hope.
"Killian, I didn't… I didn't know. Why didn't you tell me?" Liam's voice is quiet and serious when he asks.
"When should I have told you, brother? In a letter sent to your ship with the monthly reports? Or how about when you were shrugging off your leave? You've barely been around since making commodore, and there was no good time. Even at the ball you wanted to talk about my strategy moves and rations."
Liam moves slowly to sit next to him, folding his hands in his lap as he looks at his brother. "You should've said something sooner," he says, and Killian immediately stands in agitation.
"Oh yes, because that would've gone over well. Tell me, Liam, how you would've reacted if I told you six years ago when this all began that I was in love with the princess and wanted to vie for her affections?"
"I would've said you're bloody stupid, but to go after whatever it is you wanted."
"Even at the expense of my military career?"
Liam sits back and thinks about that, and Killian can see it all coming together in his mind. "The strategy position kept you in the castle. You could've been out captaining a ship and making twice as much already," Liam says, as if Killian didn't already know this.
"I don't give a damn about the money, you fool. I care about Emma."
"Princess Emma," Liam commands, and Killian grits his teeth.
"She's Emma to me, as she's been for many a year while we're alone. You can't come back here and expect to suddenly control me. You're not my commodore, Liam. I'm barely even your brother at this point. Just some lieutenant you're in charge of at times, and nothing else.
Liam stands, suddenly, marching straight for the door with anger puffing out his chest. "Sod off, little brother. You're not the only one who has feelings around here, and maybe it would do you good to remember that."
He slams the door when he leaves, and Killian is only disappointed because he would've enjoyed applying force to something other than his uniform at this moment.
The next morning, he's summoned to the king and queen's antechamber again, and his stomach sinks when he walks in to see Liam in attendance, as well.
"Your majesties, Commodore Jones." He bows to each of them in turn. "You wanted to speak with me?"
Snow sends a worried glance to David and Liam, but remains silent.
"We've decided that you're to be suspended from the navy until such a time that you can learn to follow orders again. You are commanded to stay out of the strategy room for a length no shorter than one month," David says, his face set in stone as he speaks. Liam turns away when Killian looks at him, opting instead to gaze out the window at the back of the ante-chamber as snow begins to fall outside.
He seethes inside. "Liam, what did you do?"
"He didn't do anything, Lieutenant." Calling him by rank after telling him he's suspended is a slap to the face, especially when they've always called him by name. David takes a deep breath. "You've hounded our advisors and told them they aren't looking in the right places. You've taken liberties with authority figures lately. You've spoken to a commodore with absolutely no respect. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
Killian stands perfectly still. He doesn't look at Snow, whose eyes are pleading with him to say anything to make the situation better. He doesn't glance again at Liam, who has still not turned his attention from the window. His jaw clenches and he averts his eyes to look somewhere over the shoulder of a man whom has always received his respect. Instead of answering any of them, he bows low and turns to leave.
"Killian, wait," Snow calls out, but he's out the door and doesn't stop until the door to his rooms is barricaded shut.
It takes him less than two days to formulate his plans. He works around the clock, sleeping in shifts so he'll have the energy to enact his idea once it's time, and otherwise staying locked away. Someone from the kitchen always delivers his meals, but he never opens the door for them, preferring instead to wait until they've given up and left the tray beyond the door.
On the third day after his suspension, the food is delivered, but when they come again at lunch, the untouched tray is still sitting out in the hall. They find the note addressed to Snow after they've had to break down the door, and all it says is "Keep it safe for me."
When she receives the note, she shakes her head, a broken chuckle coming from her as she folds it and holds it to her chest. She's not even surprised when a captain reports that the Jewel of the Realm, his brother's favorite ship, has been commandeered overnight.
By the time it's reported to the king and queen that a ship has gone missing, Killian has managed to make it a considerable distance away from the shore. The Jewel is the fastest ship they have, and even the second fastest won't be able to catch him with the lead he has. With a ragtag group of men he managed to hire in the shortest time possible, Killian has officially claimed himself captain, and their first order of business is to get as far from Misthaven as they possibly can.
"If you see a ship, men, you alert your captain and we will take what we desire. But no harm shall come to any crew we encounter, do you understand?"
A chorus of men all respond at once, "Yes, Captain!"
"Good. You'll all make a fine crew aboard this ship, and you'll have more riches than you know what to do with in no time at all. Let's get this vessel in order and be our own masters!"
With the men cheering on deck, Killian takes the helm, his fists closing around the handles on the wheel as he steers them towards his own destiny.
