Author's note: Let's see, how do I say this politely? When I updated the last time, I received a VERY entitled "review" accusing me of lying. Basically stating that the real reason I hadn't updated this story in so long was because of my preference for the Swan Jones Trio. I've already called this person out on my Tumblr, but I'm doing it again because that kind of thing is simply not cool. Fic writers are doing this for free on their own time. We pour hours into brainstorming and writing and editing. Sometimes the muse cooperates. Sometimes she can be a fickle bitch. Sometimes she gets another idea that she wants to work on instead. Unless you are in my head, you don't understand how my muse works and to imply otherwise is simply stupid. It makes you sound whiny and entitled. Newsflash: none of us work for you. We write because we are passionate about these characters. So Entitled Guest: I would suggest you move on. Find someone else to harass. Because any more "reviews" like that will be removed. To everyone else, I hope you enjoy this chapter! It was a blast to write. :)
Disclaimer: Are these a thing again?
Chapter 3
"Again! You're holding back, lass!"
Emma threw her husband a scowl, snatching up a nearby tin cup. Precious cool water glided down her throat; she was parched. When Killian first suggested he join her training, she thought it would be fun. He loved watching her fight back when they sailed on the Jolly. They often fought side by side or back to back on the deck of some prize; it had never failed to make him hot and bothered. She lost count of the times they tumbled into the captain's quarters, pawing at each other. Against the door, the desk, the ladder, the bunk, any flat surface would do. He simply had to have her.
She loved him like that, wild and desperate for her.
This wasn't a Killian she was very familiar with, barking orders at her. And it was her fault. She'd asked him not to go easy on her. To work her just as hard as he would one of his crew. She was serious about this. Emma had never been some damsel in distress; her father started teaching her swordplay from a young age. Of course, that was the way of knights and honor; the man she loved was a pirate. Emma knew how to take care of herself; she was just out of practice. She was learning that practicing with Killian was much more difficult than practicing against some dummy.
"I am not holding back," she spat, angry at herself because deep down, she thought it might be true. She never hesitated during their time on the high seas. When Killian was injured, she'd effectively taken over the ship, even winning them a prize. But that was before Rumplestiltskin, before she discovered her magic, before she became a mother.
Killian smirked, waving his sword in a circle. "Then prove it, Princess."
Emma took a deep breath, adjusting her grip on her sword. It was a sword Killian had made specially for her, a true pirate's cutlass, the hilt inlaid with gold and pearl, the edge sharp. A lighter, more elegant twin of his own. She'd been touched by the gift; there hadn't even been a special occasion. "You're going to regret that."
She brushed a few stray strands or hair away from her wet face, then charged. Their swords kissed at the top of her arc, his longer reach making it harder for her. But she didn't let it defeat her. She poured all her frustration and fear and upset into her sword arm, swinging, slashing, jabbing. Killian parried everything she threw at him, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Now this is much better!"
She shrieked, spinning on her heel, the cutlass singing as it cut through the air. He ducked her move, deflecting the sword with his hook. "How. Are. You. So. Good?" she screamed. He'd been cooped up in the castle just as long as she had. But he was still annoyingly beautiful. His body still strong and lean and toned, unfairly sexy and driving her crazy. Her feelings about her own body may be confused and upsetting, but gods, did she still want him. He was perfect: handsome, athletic, with that roguish charm that called to something deep inside her. She'd thought him beautiful the very first time she laid on him.
Killian did a quarter turn of his own and swung for her head. She parried, forcing the point of the sword to the ground. For a moment. His blue eyes blazed; her body throbbed in response. Suddenly, they were back on the deck of some merchant ship, barely able to keep their hands to themselves. God, she wanted him! "Now that your father and I are bosom friends, I've got a decent sparring partner," he replied, dancing away from her again. "He taught you well."
Her father! That was just unfair! She spent the first six months of her son's life tending him! She didn't have the time or energy to train! "Don't patronize me, pirate."
"Now why would I do that, princess?" He set his jaw, deliberating mounting his next attack on her left side. Her weaker side, as she was right handed. Emma might have thought she was out of practice, but he'd never seen her more glorious. He was driving her hard, because he knew she needed it. She needed to feel like she was still that fiery incredible woman he fell in love with. Somehow, they had never actually sparred before, not like this; now that he had a taste, he didn't want to stop.
Emma raised her sword just in time, her arm jolted with the force of the blow. It was probably crazy, but her heart sang with joy! There was her pirate! Killian had once been afraid to allow her to see his true self; he thought she would fear the pirate, a man accustomed to violence and unsavory deeds. But she didn't fear him. Not even watching him punish the traitor who tried to rape and abduct her swayed her. She loved her sweet tender Killian and she loved the fierce pirate. They were the same man. They were both hers.
"Nice of you to show up, pirate," she spat. "I was starting to think you'd gone soft." She was taunting him on purpose; her lover was anything but soft. She wasn't done with him yet, not in the slightest.
Killian growled dangerously. "Be careful what you wish for, princess."
They were several feet apart now, both breathing hard, covered in sweat. Killian had long since lost his coat and vest; his thin blank shirt clung to his skin. His Adam's apple bobbed; Emma wanted to run her tongue over his throat, taste the salty sweetness. The look in his eyes was dark, dangerous, predatory. She loved it, her body responding, nipples stiff and aching, her core throbbing with need. "Oh, I definitely wish, pirate." She didn't know when this had become a game, but she wasn't complaining.
"Have it your way." He shrugged, pretending he didn't care. Oh, but he did. He ached for her. He would make her scream his name before they were through. More than once, if he could manage it. If she wanted Captain Hook, then that was what she would get.
Emma was so distracted by his beauty that she allowed her defenses to drop. She raised the sword again, just in time, then spun away from him. It was exhilarating, fighting someone she knew so well. In another situation, it could be deadly, but Emma knew without a doubt that he would never hurt her. It was freeing in a way she didn't expect. The next time she spun, she kicked her leg out, catching the back of his knee. She'd watched Killian do it a hundred times but had never tried it herself. He fell, crying out. Emma pointed her sword at his throat triumphantly. "Do you yield, pirate?"
He smirked. "Never." His hook curled into the tail of her shirt and dragged her down with him, her sword skittering away. He tried to get up, but she tackled him, rolling around with him in the straw. His height and weight eventually won out, his body settling between her thighs. Emma bit back a moan; she could already feel how hard he was. And in case she missed it, he thrust roughly against her core. "Now where did you learn that little trick, princess?"
She stared up at him unapologetic. "A pirate."
"Is that so? Have a taste for pirates, love?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" But her hands were already sliding down his damp shirt, stroking the muscles that taunted her so.
He gave her his most devilish grin; it made her insides boil with lust. "You'll forget aught but me, lass. I promise you."
She wet her lips, flagrantly grinding her hips against his still clothed cock. "Prove it."
Just like that he was kissing her. Emma mewled, her fingers sliding into his hair, very, very willing. She felt like she was ablaze and only he could ease the ache inside her. His shirt was the first to go, the damp fabric tossed carelessly aside. Emma raked her blunt nails down his back; Killian groaned in pleasure. His lips attacked her throat, deliberating nibbling and sucking until the skin was red and bruised. He was marking her, reminding her that she would always be his.
Emma keened, her hips rocking wantonly against his. "Oh gods."
"No gods here, love. Just me." Emma's core throbbed again as his hand and hook tore her shirt in two, revealing the cloth she used to bind her breasts while she trained. He growled, frustrated. "Off. Now."
Emma shivered, need and desperation rolling through her as he rolled off her. She was about to call him back when she saw what he was doing: fetching his coat. He spread it out on the straw, making a place for her to lie. She crawled to it, shucking her ruined shirt, then slowly unwinding the cloth. About halfway revealed the stain; she moaned as the pressure was released on her chest. Her breasts were still about as large as they'd become during her pregnancy; she knew Killian loved it. She'd always enjoyed having her breasts sucked and played with; even more so now. Before she could speak, he was on her again, pressing her into his coat. The ground wasn't very comfortable, but neither cared. Their desire for each other was too great. Emma keened as he stroked the taut peak of her nipple with his hook; the metal was cool on her skin. Her back arched as he kissed down her sternum, but she was so empty. She needed to be full. "Are you just going to tease me, pirate? Don't you want to fuck the princess?"
"Such language," he scolded. "We might have to do something about that mouth." They'd ordered the armory and training ground cleared for the afternoon; no one was going to bother them. If he wanted her naked and on her knees for him, he could. He quickly stripped her of her remaining clothes; he was pleased she didn't try to hide herself this time. His wild wanton princess was back, skin flushed, arousal filling his nose. "On your knees for the captain." When she hesitated, he flashed his hook. "Now."
A flush of want rolled through her. They'd been quietly indulging in her little pirate fantasies a lot recently, but she craved it. At night, he was her sweet adoring Killian, loving her with his body in their huge bed. Right now, he was her devilish pirate captain, come to ruin her for other men. Gods, she loved him so much!
Emma obeyed, kneeling in front of him. Her hair was pulled back in a loose braid; some tendrils were already loose. She brushed them back before she bent over him, plucking open the laces of his leather trousers. "There's a good lass," he praised. "Are you hot and slick for me, princess? Do you need a good ravishing?"
She squirmed, her clit throbbing. She needed it alright. She needed him, needed him like she needed air to breathe. Yet, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of an answer, so she continued her task, biting her lip as she pulled him out. She couldn't help the needy whimper that tumbled from her lips; he was so beautiful. She'd not given the male form much thought before she met him—she'd kissed exactly one boy before him—but there was no other word for Killian Jones. He was beautiful. Every muscle chiseled to perfection, his chest and stomach covered in wiry hair leading down to his gorgeous cock. He was uncut, long and thick; the first time she ever saw him, she wondered how he would fit. Now she knew. He was made for her. Made to fill her up, bring her to orgasm over and over until she was begging, pleading for more.
He was so perfect, she wanted to weep.
Killian let out a strangled groan as she started to stroke him, both of her small hands wrapped around his length, using just the right amount of force. He sometimes feared his baser instincts, the pure need he had for her, but she was always right there with him, begging, pleading for him to mark her as his. "Show me," he growled, needing to know she was as desperate as he. "Show me how wet you are, my naughty princess."
Emma bit her lip, leaning back slightly on her haunches. She spread her knees, exposing her swollen aching core to the air. She shivered under his penetrating gaze, the lazy way he took himself in hand as he waited for her to obey him. Parting her lower lips with one hand, she dipped the fingers of the other between her legs, deftly circling her sensitive clit. "Oh gods. I'm so wet," she murmured. "It's dripping down my fingers. Fuck."
It took every ounce of strength he possessed not to pounce on her and fuck her silly. She would no doubt enjoy that, but then their play would be over far too soon. He snatched for her wet fingers with his hook, curling it around her wrist and bringing them to his lips. He licked her skin clean, savoring the taste of her arousal. "Delicious."
Emma wet her lips, wishing his mouth was somewhere else instead. He seemed to sense her thoughts because the next thing she knew he was on his back and ordering her to straddle his face. She did so happily, choking back as moan as his cock rested in front of her. She wanted him in her mouth; gods, she wanted him everywhere. She couldn't remember the last time she was this aroused and hungry. His hand and brace pressed into her now firm hips, dragging her to his talented mouth. She keened as he lapped at the length of her sex; she had to brace her hands on his stomach to stay upright. Instinctively, she tried to grind, but he held her firmly. "More," she panted, nails scratching his taut belly. "Fuck, more!"
She should have been more careful about what she wished for because he seemed to be intent on wringing every drop of pleasure he could from her. He wound her up so tightly, over and over again, then stop, leaving her writhing above him in frustration. His tongue was wicked, curling around her clit, plunging into her fluttering heat, lapping at all she had to offer. It was frustrating and intoxicating all t once; this was the man she knew when they first became lovers, the man who could not get enough of her body, the man who brought her endless hours of pleasure. There had been days where they never left the captain's quarters; the crew quickly grew accustomed to Emma's screams of ecstasy.
She was the luckiest woman in all the realms.
His cock taunted her. Long and thick, laying proudly on his belly, the tip beading with precum. On a whim, she bent over and licked, moaning at the salty tang on her tongue. Once she had a taste, she couldn't stop; she lavished him with attention, short licks, long licks, her hand fondling his balls. He moaned under her, the vibration right against her clit. As he got lost in the pleasure, his mouth stilled on her sex; she adjusted herself, raising her hips higher in the air so she could get a better angle to take him into her mouth. He bucked as she took him deep, swallowing as he brushed the back of her throat. Gods, she'd missed doing this for him. Her core clenched with need, but she kept going, eager to make his every bit as wrecked as he did her.
Killian's eyes rolled back in his head; she was killing him slowly. His lover had always had a talented mouth, but this was different. New somehow and exciting. He caught a glimpse of her swollen sex; she was soaked, a fat bead of arousal threatening to drip onto his skin. He reached up with his thumb, smearing it over her delectable flesh. To his satisfaction, she moaned around him. He didn't stop touching her, rubbing her clit, dipping first one finger then two into her sex. She squirmed, the tease nowhere near enough. "Don't stop," he growled, watching as she started to fuck his fingers with little thrusts of her hips. "Keep sucking me, princess. Such a hot mouth."
She whined but did as he asked. He had her hovering on the edge again, keeping her there, never letting her fall. Her bobs grew more and more erratic, her need to be filled stealing her reason. Just when she thought she could take no more, he grabbed her, rolling her so their positions were switched. Before she could fully comprehend the change, he was in her, taking her with deep hard strokes. Emma climaxed almost instantly, her body wound too tightly for too long. Her scream of pleasure was everything. Killian grit his teeth as he rode her through the intense orgasm; he wasn't through with her yet.
"Love this cunt," he growled in her ear, slowing his hips, simply savoring the feel of her. "So wet and hot for me. All mine, princess. Mine."
She moaned and arched; she could feel every inch of him like this. "Don't fucking stop," she panted, raising her hips to meet him. "Feels so good in me, pirate."
"Fucking perfect. That's what you are." He drew her hands over her head, dropping his head so he could see himself sliding in and out of her. Her slickness coated his cock, their bodies in sync.
Emma clenched around him, pleased when he moaned loudly. She could still do that! She could still make him crazy! His thrusts became rougher, sharper; she moaned in approval, another orgasm curling in her belly. "Again," she panted, squeezing him. "Make me come again, pirate."
"Fucking minx," he cursed. To her surprise, he pulled out and roughly twisted her hips. Emma wondered what he was up to, then he was throwing her leg over his shoulder and plunging back into her. She cried out, clawing at his coat for purchase, the pleasure building again rapidly. The new angle felt amazing, his cock hitting her just right. Her second climax came on in a rush, her mouth open in a silent cry, her body trembling. Killian followed almost immediately, her name on his lips as he shuddered and spilled himself within her.
Spent, Killian slipped from her and collapsed by her side on the coat. It wasn't quite big enough for them both, but they'd made due with tight quarters more times than he could count. His favorite place to be was curled up at her side, skin to skin, listening to her slowing heart after a round of lovemaking. He hadn't expected this when she asked him to train with her, but he wasn't about to complain. He hadn't realized how much he missed his warrior princess, his pirate queen. She was so much more now; there were times he still felt unworthy of her. But he would never, ever let her go.
Emma curled into his side, exhausted and happy. This was definitely a good day. She pressed sweet kisses into his chest and neck, everywhere she could reach, showing him how much she adored him.
"Sweetheart?"
"Hmmm?"
"You are utterly magnificent."
Warmth flowed through her. She loved him so much. "That was…unexpected but…" She looked up at him with those green eyes, clear and bright. He saw his Emma there, not the frightened woman she'd hidden from him. "Thank you. I missed us so, so much."
He nodded. "As did I." He stroked her arm. "I'm sure you will tire of hearing this, but I am so sorry, my love. You were hurting and failed to keep my promise. I'm doing everything I can to make it up to you."
"Tomorrow could be a bad day," she reminded him. As good as she felt, she dared not hope that she was cured. Rosalind told her it would take time.
"I don't care. I love you, Emma, just as you are." He kissed her forehead tenderly. She and little Liam were the most important things in his world. He would be lost without her. He knew what it felt like to believe her lost; he had no intention of leaving her side again.
Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. She would not cry. She was done crying, done feeling weak. Instead, she kissed him, slow, languid, sinful strokes of lips and tongue, a kiss she felt all the way to her toes. "My pirate."
"Always." They remained there, quietly drinking each other in, as in days of old, each marveling that they could have found one another. As the sun sank lower in the sky, the room grew dimmer, the ground more uncomfortable. Emma ached in ways she hadn't in months; she wanted a long hot bath and long sleep. As they dressed, Emma had to wrap herself in Killian's heavy coat; her shirt was ruined. Killian returned their swords to the armory, then offered his arm to lead her upstairs. She leaned on him as they walked to their suite, basking in the pleasant memory.
A stranger was waiting outside their apartment. A servant judging by his clothes. But he leaned casually against door, more interested in the deck of cards in his hand than his surroundings. Killian cleared his throat. The man didn't move. He was shorter than Killian, but not by much. Brown hair cropped short, brown eyes a bit shifty. Finally, Killian lost patience. "Mind getting out of the way, mate?"
The other man snapped to attention, hastily putting the hand with the cards behind his back. "Captain! Sir!"
"Who the hell are you?"
"Ah, Will Scarlett, sir. The Queen sent me to be your new valet." Will couldn't have looked less like a valet if he tried. What was Snow playing at? How many times did Killian protest that he didn't need a bloody valet?
"I've never seen you before," Emma said, a little suspicious.
Will's eyes widened when he realized the Crown Princess was only partly dressed, quickly turning his gaze to the floor. Good, Killian thought. He didn't need anyone ogling his wife. "I've not been here long, yer highness. Visitin' a friend, really. But I wanted ta earn my keep while I was here."
She couldn't place his accent; it wasn't smooth like Killian's. "Who's your friend?"
"Alice? Works with the seamstresses."
Emma relaxed a little. She knew Alice. Not well, but she was a good sort. "I know Alice. She helped make my wedding dress."
Killian cocked his head but said nothing. "Do you always loiter, Scarlett?"
Will seemed to realize (at last) that he was blocking the entrance. He hopped aside. "Apologies, Captain. The Queen suggested I wait for you since you, ah, 'have a habit of biting people's heads off.' Her exact words, sir."
Just because he didn't want help…Killian sighed, deciding to leave it alone. It wasn't worth arguing over now. Emma was tired; he wanted her to bathe, check in on Liam and sleep. "At least go be useful," he said at last. "Hot water, copper tub, soap, a bit to eat. Can you manage that?"
"Aye, I can." With that, Will Scarlett hurried off.
Killian shook his head as they entered the suite. "Does your mother believe me helpless?" he grouched.
Emma waved her hand to light the fire; nothing happened. Frowning, she tried again. What was going on? And where was Tinkerbelle? Emma hoped her friend would have been there first thing in the morning, but that hadn't happened. Her first thought was to do as Killian said and simply go find her, but her parents disagreed. It wasn't safe. Rumplestiltskin was still out there. They got into a heated argument about it, but Emma didn't dare tell them the real reason she needed to see her friend. She was afraid they would be afraid of her.
"Emma?"
She held up her hands. "My magic again." She'd been feeling so happy—if tired—a moment ago. Now the doubt started to creep in once more.
Killian hurried over to her, bringing her folded hands to his chest. He wasn't afraid of her magic or of her. They would get to the bottom of this, even if he had to march into the fairies' domain himself. "Breathe, darling. It'll be alright."
"How do you know?"
He ducked and brushed his mouth over hers. "Because you are the most incredible woman I've ever known. You can do anything you set your mind to."
She threw her arms around him, hugging him fiercely. She hated doubting herself or being scared. She simply wanted to enjoy her life with her husband and son. Killian's support meant everything to her.
He kissed the crown of her head. He wondered now if their sparring session had been a distraction from the quarrel with her parents. He understood their reluctance—even their fear—but it was too much. It was suffocating Emma. She yearned to be free, to find her own way. It was one of the things they shared. He recognized it in her their very first night together. It was what made him offer her a place on his ship. He was so disappointed and hurt when she didn't arrive; he had no way of knowing she'd been detained by the arrival of the Dark One and his son. The courage she showed in fleeing, in finding him…was it any wonder they were soulmates?
He would do anything it took to make her happy. "Smee says the Jolly's ready," he murmured. "We can go tomorrow, if you like." Let her parents try to stop them.
She looked so hopeful; it broke his heart. "Really?"
"Yes, really. And if Tink doesn't bloody arrive by this evening, I'm marching over there myself."
"Killian…"
"This has gone on long enough. Something's wrong."
"What's wrong?"
Both turned at the sound of the unexpected—but not unwelcome—voice. "Tink!" Emma cried. She scooted around Killian and hugged her friend. Tink seemed a little taken aback but returned the embrace. "I'm so relieved to see you. I was starting to worry."
Tink frowned. "I got your message. What's happening with your magic, Emma?"
Killian wanted answers. Emma had been worried sick for days about her magic and Tinkerbelle had been nowhere to be found. "Care to tell us what you've been up to, fairy? You've been a bloody lousy mentor, if you ask me."
"What are you talking about?" Tink crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at Killian. She didn't like his tone.
"I've been writing to you for days," Emma said, nibbling on her lip. "Haven't you been getting any of my letters?"
Tink's brow furrowed. "Is that why you bewitched this one?" She took the scroll and unraveled it, scanning the words again. "Emma, this is the first letter I've received from you in weeks."
Emma shook her head. "I know I sent them. Blue said you would come by as your duties allowed. I wondered if you didn't want to be my friend anymore."
Killian was surprised by the anger in the fairy's face; for a moment, he thought it was directed at Emma and moved to place himself between Tink and Emma. But Tinkerbelle crumpled the scroll in her tiny hands. "The gall! Oh, I am so mad!" Tink kicked at the rug, a halo of fairy magic lighting up the air around her.
"Tink?"
"Sorry, Emma. I am so sorry. I swear, I never got any letters from you. If I had I would have been here right away."
Emma sighed in relief. She had a knack for knowing when people were lying and Tink spoke nothing but truth. The two women hugged again, and Killian tried to put his anger aside. He'd been there several times, listening to the Blue Fairy's explanations for Tinkerbelle's absence. He wondered why his in laws and others placed so much trust in her, but he didn't want to get involved in all the machinations. Like the Grand Alliance. It was supposed to take on the Dark One, but so far, all they'd done was talk.
It was maddening.
Emma and Tink settled on the nearby couch, Killian in the arm chair. "Now, Emma, tell me exactly what's been happening with your magic? You said it's not dangerous?"
"Not so far. It's just been acting…strange." A knock interrupted her. Greta entered, Liam in her arms. Tink didn't miss the way Emma's face lit up around her son. She was surprised by how big he was! Emma stood, taking her son into her arms. "How's my little pirate?" she asked. "Were you good for Grandmama and Greta?"
"He was an angel, Highness," Greta said. "Just missing his mother."
Emma touched her son's head; his hair was so soft. It was starting to curl a bit, like hers. "Mama missed you too, love." She smiled at him, then Killian. He stood and peered down at the bundle in her arms. "See, Liam? Papa's here."
Liam smiled back at them, kicking and waving his fists. "Did you see that, Emma?"
She grinned. "I did. Told you."
Tink couldn't stop smiling. They were such a perfect little family. This was why she loved being a fairy. Seeing people she loved so happy made everything worth it. "May I hold him?"
Emma nodded. "Sure." Carefully, she handed her son to Tink. The fairy wrinkled her nose, making a funny face for him. At first, Liam didn't know what to make of her, but then he laughed. Tink gasped; she'd never heard a baby laugh!
"Did I do that?"
"You surely did, love. He likes you."
Tink beamed. "He's adorable, Emma."
"Thanks." Emma felt a little ashamed of herself; would Tinkerbelle think she was a terrible person for some of the things she'd felt over the last few months? She understood now that she was sick, but did that really excuse it?
"Emma, what's wrong?"
She took a deep breath; Killian nodded encouragingly. "My magic hasn't been the only thing acting strangely. I've not really been myself since Liam was born. I thought I was going crazy. Some days are good, really good." She touched her son's cheek. "I love him, I love being his mother. But then there are times when I'm upset for no reason. I feel trapped, I miss our life on the Jolly. I wonder how I can be this mystical Savior you all seem to think I am."
Tink reached out, covering one of Emma's hands with hers. "I am so sorry, Emma."
"I lashed out at Killian the other day."
Tink blinked. "What happened?"
"The little lad was sick," Killian murmured, kneeling in front of the fairy. He stroked his son's head. "For three days, nothing could soothe him. Emma was exhausted, more tired than I've ever seen her. Finally, I visited the apothecary in the village to see if they had something for him. When I returned, Emma was nearly hysterical."
"I almost attacked him with magic. I never want to be that kind of person, Tink."
Killian slipped his hand into Emma's. "You're not, Princess. I know you would never hurt me. Or Liam."
She smiled gratefully, then continued. "But my magic had been acting up before that. Like just now. I tried to light the fire, and nothing happened." She described some of the other instances where her magic wasn't quite right. Spells she'd done hundreds of times either not working or backfiring in ways she didn't expect. It was frustrating and frightening, because she didn't understand what was happening.
"Was it acting up before Liam was born?"
Emma shook her head. "No. And I didn't notice it until a few weeks after he was born. Tired and preoccupied, I guess."
"How often does this happen?"
Emma shrugged. "Often enough that I'm scared. What if I hurt Killian? Or Liam?"
Tink shook her head. "I agree with Killian. You would never hurt someone you loved. Your magic comes from your ability to love, Emma. True Love."
"We visited Rosalind yesterday. The midwife who delivered Liam," she explained when Tink looked confused. "She says I'm not the first new mother to feel like this."
"Did she say anything else?"
"Just that I need time. But it's nice to know that there's something wrong with me." Emma looked at Tink. "Do you think the two might be connected?"
"Could you take the baby, Killian?" He did so quickly and Tink stood. "Given the foundation of your powers, it would make sense. Let's try some spells and see what happens?"
Emma wasn't so sure. "It happens when I least expect it, Tink. I don't think I can control it."
"Try, Emma. If I can see what we're dealing with, then I can do some research." She'd gotten into Blue's private library once; she could do it again. If Blue had been trying to keep the friends apart, then TInk had something to say about that. But her first priority was helping her friend.
So they practiced. Killian held Liam so he could see his mother wielding her magic; he wanted his son to know Emma was special. Liam might even be magical himself; he was too young to know for sure. One thing was certain, they would never keep his true nature from him.
By the time they finished, Emma was very tired. She barely had enough energy to climb into the bath Killian's valet had brought for her. After, she lounged in bed, Killian feeding her morsels of food while she fed their son. Tink departed for the fairies' caves, promising to return soon.
"Do you think I can do it?" she asked, fighting to stay awake.
"Of course you can. I'd trust her to no one else, love."
"You're sweet."
"It's true. You're as connected to the Jolly as I am. You'll have no trouble."
"I can't wait. I miss it so much."
"As do I." He kissed her brow. "Sleep as long as you like, darling. Liam and I will be right here." He didn't want to make a habit of keeping Liam in their bed, but he thought Emma would like to have him close after her day. Once his wife was asleep, he tiptoed out to make the final arrangements for their outing. They were finally getting away from this bloody castle!
"Absolutely not," David said firmly. "It's too dangerous."
"Papa, we've had this discussion. Killian and I are going sailing and we're taking Liam with us."
"Emma," Snow said, trying to sound reasonable. "Your father and I…"
"Are keeping me here as a prisoner!"
"Emma, that is not what we're doing! We just want you to be safe. You and our grandson!"
"And what about me?" Killian snapped.
"Now, Killian…"
He wrapped his arm around Emma's shoulders. "My wife wants to go sailing, Your Majesties. And I'll be damned if I let you stop her. Or did you forget that you're dealing with Captain Hook?" He didn't like bringing up his moniker, but he was done dancing to their tune. Their precious good intentions were slowly destroying his True Love's spirit.
The quartet stared at each other for a long moment; Liam squirmed in Emma's arms. Finally, David and Snow gave way. Emma sighed with relief as they left the castle. She hated fighting with her parents, but what choice did she have? She understood their fear of the Dark One. She felt it herself. She lived in terror that he would suddenly appear and go after Liam. Or Killian. However, she was equally convinced that staying behind stone walls wasn't the answer. If she was going to face Rumplestiltskin again, then she needed to do so as herself, not some Savior.
Until she found Emma again, she would never be safe.
Killian slipped his hand into hers, keeping her close as they headed toward the docks. Her complicated relationship with her parents was difficult for her. They'd had a hard time accepting her choice to run away, not to mention her falling in love with a notorious pirate. They'd come around considerably in the time since, but Killian always suspected that they held out hope that becoming a mother would put an end to Emma's innate restlessness.
It was not to be.
"Look, Liam. See Papa's ship?" Emma asked, jiggling her son on her hip. "We're gonna go out today, would you like that?" Liam looked all around with wide eyes, trying to take in his new surroundings. Aside from the palace gardens, Liam had never left the castle. It was a bright sunny spring day; the sun felt good on her skin. Liam had a little white cap on his head, paired with a sailor outfit the Alice had made for him. They had Will to thank for that. Killian's new valet surprised them with it that morning; it was the first time Emma had seen her husband be nice to one of the young men her mother forced on them. She understood his reluctance to accept help; her husband was a very proud man. She loved that about him. But she had hope for this one.
Liam giggled and waved his arms. It warmed her heart. The salt in the air invigorated her; she was smiling. "He certainly seems happy," she observed to her husband.
"Aye, that he does." Killian led them up the gangplank; the Jolly's small crew snapped to attention. "Carry on," he ordered with a wave of his hook. "Well be shoving off shortly."
"Cap'n!" Smee hurried down from the quarterdeck, skidding to a stop in front of Killian. "Everything is as you requested, sir."
"Thank you, Mr. Smee. We're just going a little ways out; it's time to stretch the old girl's legs."
"Yes, sir!"
Killian turned to Emma. "Ready, love?"
She handed her son to her husband. "As ready as I'll ever be." Tinkerbelle had shown her how to ward the ship and cloak it; the only question was: could she do it? With her magic acting crazy, she wasn't certain she could. But she had to try. She had to get out of this place, even if was only for an afternoon. She walked over to the rail and rested her hands on the enchanted wood. The familiar hum of the old ship comforted her. This was home. This was the place she belonged. She summoned all the memories she and Killian shared, the happiness. Power followed through her, but it didn't feel malicious or wrong. This was bright and warm; it filled her with joy. Closing her eyes, she willed it to obey her. Protect us, she thought. Protect Killian. Protect Liam. Protect all who sail with us.
Motion stopped as the crew watched the air seem to shimmer around them. None of them could see it, but the Jolly Roger disappeared from sight, as if she'd never been there. Emma stepped back from the rail, confident that it worked. "All done."
Killian smiled. "Well done, darling." He pressed a kiss to her brow. "Would you like to take us out?"
Her green eyes lit up. "Thank you, Captain."
He chuckled, waving her off. During their travels, Emma had more than acquitted herself. She'd become quite the sailor in her own right. The men listened to her as they would him, which filled him with pride. Killian was quite content to look after Liam while she handled the ship. "Let's go watch Mama, aye, little lord?" he said, watching his son take all this in. Liam laughed as Killian hoisted him higher, his little feet kicking. Killian pretended it hurt, making a wounded sound, which only made his son laugh more.
"Something funny?" Emma asked as Killian landed on the deck.
"Nothing," Killian chuckled. "Just giving the little one a tour."
"Well, this is his home too." She smiled fondly at them. "Can Mama have a kiss, Liam?"
Killian leaned them over, so Emma could plant a kiss on her son's cheek. "Now watch, Liam. Mama hasn't done this in a while. It might go horribly wrong."
"Nonsense, love." He brushed a kiss to her temple; she would be fantastic. She always was. The crew followed her shouted direction and slowly the Jolly Roger slipped away from the dock. The sails whipped in the breeze, snapping and cracking; Liam was drawn to the sound. He kept pointing and crying out; at first, Killian thought he was upset, but when he looked at his son's face, he was happy.
Emma kept her hands on the wheel, holding the ship steady. It had been a while since she'd stood here in this spot. The wood hummed under her fingertips; the wind threatened to pull her hair out of its braid. But she felt good. It felt like a weight had been lifted, one she'd carried for far too long.
This was meant to be a shakedown cruise, so they put the ship through her paces. The crew needed the work too; they'd been idle for too many months. Some of them were green; a few of the ones who'd stuck around had found love in the village. They chose to stay behind, start a new life for themselves. Emma couldn't fathom staying on one place; it chafed at her. She wasn't ungrateful for their life in castle, but she wanted more than that. She always had.
"What are you thinking, love?"
"How happy I am that we came out here."
"Me too, lass."
Emma locked the wheel; they were a good distance from the castle now. It was a small outcropping from the shore. "Did we come out too far?"
"Emma, we'll go as far as you need."
She shook her head. "This is fine for today." She walked over to where her husband stood, wrapping her arms around him. "Thank you for this."
"I've missed this too, princess. It's a wee bit selfish of me, you know."
"And how's my little sailor doing?" Liam reached for her and she took him, kissing his forehead. He seemed happy, not the least bit disoriented or upset by the swaying of the ship.
"Shall we enjoy our picnic?"
"Sounds good to me." Since it was such a nice day; no one was in a rush to return. Leaving Smee to mind things, Killian guided his family to the main deck. He shook out a blanket for them to sit on, then dangled a basket playfully from his hook. Emma laughed, happy to see him so carefree. "What did you bring me, Captain?"
"A little of this and a little of that." He pulled out sandwiches, meats and cheeses, fruit and juice. They let Liam play in one corner of the blanket; he was very interested in his rattle. He kept putting the end in his mouth, gumming at it enthusiastically.
"He's going to be teething soon," Emma observed, leaning back on Killian's chest.
"Aye, walking too."
"Killian, he hasn't even started crawling yet!"
"No, but soon. I can feel it coming. He's a clever one, our boy."
Good food, warm sunshine, the sea air, her boys with her? What else could Emma want? It was the most she'd felt like herself in months. Deep down, she knew it wouldn't last. There were still bad days ahead of her. But if they could return to this place, then she could always find her way back.
"Emma, love, look," Killian whispered.
She was about to doze off—the sway of the ship could make her drowsy if she stayed in one place too long—it took her a moment to figure out what she was supposed to be looking at. Liam lost interest in his rattle; he'd rolled over onto his belly, his feet kicking behind him. He looked like he was concentrating really hard; it was cute. "What do you think he's doing?"
"Why don't we wait and see?" Killian couldn't stop smiling; his son was definitely focusing on something. He'd spotted Liam acting similarly before, hence his confidence that the boy was trying to find his own way of locomotion. It was fascinating, watching as Liam started working things out. After flailing a bit, he figured out how to rise up on his hands and knees, which excited him so much that he promptly fell again. Emma started to reach out, but Killian gently pulled her back. "Let him learn on his own," he whispered. "He's alright."
Emma nodded, fighting the instinct that her baby needed her. It was the same feeling she had the first time they left him in his nursery to sleep by himself. Then, too, Killian had been there, showing her there was nothing to be afraid of. Liam struggled for bit—at one point he nearly burst into tears, making Emma'a heart twist painfully—but then he slowly rose up again. Once he got there, the little boy was a little flummoxed as to what to do next, so Emma leaned forward. "Come to Mama, Liam. You can do it. Come on!"
Liam looked at his mother with those eyes, wide and curious. He swayed on his knees, back and forth, until suddenly he was moving, slowly at first but as he got the hang it, Liam crawled faster until he was in his mother's arms. "Liam, oh my goodness! Look at you!" She kissed his chubby cheek, happiness threatening to burst out of her chest. "Killian, did you see? He crawled right to me!"
"Aye, love, I saw." He hugged them both, so proud, he didn't have words. This was what he'd wanted all his life; now, he finally had it. "Told you our lad was clever."
She laughed. "So you did." She put Liam back down, so he could continue exploring. He was still unsteady, but she knew that wouldn't last. "He's going to get into so much trouble now."
"Aye, but are you really surprised?" They specialized in trouble.
Emma turned and placed a gentle kiss to her husband's lips. "Nope. He is your son, after all."
"And yours. You get into your fair share of trouble, lass."
"I do not."
"Says the princess who ran away from home to chase a pirate."
"Ugh, fine." She laid back, resting her head on his chest. "Do you think my parents will be very cross with us?"
"I don't give a damn what they think, Emma. You're free to live your own life."
"They're not wrong about the Dark One. We don't know where he is. He could still take my powers."
Killian shook his head. "My Emma's too strong to let that monster win."
"You keep saying that, but I have trouble believing it."
"You shouldn't." He coaxed her to sit up and look at him. "I know it might not feel like it now but think of all the things you've done. You ran away from home. You joined a pirate's crew and made a hell of a pirate." He smiled, stroking her cheek. "You went to face that monster—alone—not knowing you had magic or anything of the sort. Because you knew it was the right thing to do."
"But you saved me."
"Because you braved a hellish place for my sake. Lass, I've never been so terrified in my life. When I saw you on that slab…what if my love for you wasn't enough? What if I couldn't wake you?"
"But you did," she said, cupping his cheek. "There is no one for me but you."
He leaned into her touch. "I don't like the idea of you facing that monster again, Emma. It kills me. I would take you from here if I could. But we both know that this world would never be safe if he's not stopped. For Liam's sake, if nothing else."
"For our sake," she amended. "We're a family."
"That we are." Ignoring all the bustle around them, he kissed her, long and slow, smiling as she melted into him. "There's my girl."
She laughed. "This is the most I've felt like myself in a long time. Thank you."
"You've always been you, Emma. You're just remembering now, is all."
She looked from Killian to their son, who had finally worn himself out and fallen asleep right there on the deck. "I never want him to hate me or be afraid of me."
"He won't," Killian replied, echoing her earlier advice to him. "You're his whole world, love. As you are mine."
She snuggled into his chest. "Can we stay a while longer?"
"Of course."
The castle was busier than ever; more and more representatives were arriving for the summit daily. Emma had little patience for it; privately, she was coming around to Killian's point of view. No one was actually doing anything. As far as anyone knew the Dark One was holed up in his castle, plotting their collective demise. Magic was the best tool to stop him, but no one knew what magic. Emma was supposedly the Savior, but she was still figuring out what that meant.
She hated not knowing.
"Come on, Liam, let's go see Papa." Killian was in the library, pouring over maps. He kept talking about going somewhere, but they still didn't have a destination in mind or the logistics figured out. They certainly hadn't spoken to her parents about leaving. They'd had a hard enough time with their little excursion into the bay. To leave Misthaven entirely? That was a fight Emma wasn't ready to have.
She hoisted Liam higher on her hip; he was getting heavy! She smiled fondly at her boy; this was the most still he'd been since he discovered the joys of crawling. For the last week, she and Killian had been chasing him all over their apartment; it was as fun as it was exhausting. She'd definitely been sleeping better, tired out from her son.
Liam was waving at something in the window; Emma wasn't watching where she was going. Neither was the boulder she ran into. "Ooof."
"I am so sorry!" The tall blonde man lightly gripped her shoulders, steadying her. "Emma! Are you alright?"
"Kristoff?"
For a man that large, it was adorable to see him so sheepish. "Yeah, sorry. Again. I wasn't paying attention."
"It's okay. We're okay." She watched as he ducked to pick up something, a scroll. "Reading?"
"A letter from Anna."
"How is she?"
"Good, I think."
"You think?"
"I think she's worried about Elsa, but she won't come right out and say it."
A shiver went down Emma's spine. "Why would she be worried?"
"It's this trade thing with Weselton. Elsa thinks they're trying to start a war."
"A war? Over trade? That's seems excessive." Since Evil Queen was destroyed, wars were very rare in the Enchanted Forest.
"Especially since Arendelle doesn't have a navy to speak of. Frankly, I think the Duke is still smarting from getting banished."
"Why was he banished?"
Kristoff looked around. "Maybe this isn't the best place."
"Killian's in the library, Liam and I were just going to see him. Care to join us?"
"Sure."
They found Killian in the library a few minutes later, his brow furrowed in concentration. He lit up when he saw Emma. "Why hello, love. Little one." Emma stepped around the desk; Killian pressed a kiss to his son's cheek then hers. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"We missed you," she said, handing Liam to his father. "Look who we ran into."
Killian grinned. "Kristoff. How are you?"
"Alright. Wishing I was home."
"Aye, this bloody summit can't start fast enough."
"Kristoff was just telling me about things in Arendelle."
"That so? How are our far flung neighbors?" Sandorn aside, Killian was learning how to play the game. He didn't like it, but he would do it. For Emma. For their son. He was heir to all of this, regardless of how Killian felt about it. It was the price he paid for True Love. And he would do it again. Every time.
He listened as Kristoff explained about Arendelle and its recent troubles with Weselton. It all sounded ridiculous to Killian, but a man's ego could be easily bruised. Sandorne came to mind. If that bastard so much as looked at Emma funny again…but that was a different battle. "Aye, you're probably right about the Duke. Strutting popinjays, the lot of them."
"You're a prince now, you know," Emma teased. They'd moved to the couch, with Kristoff in the huge armchair across from them. Liam was on the floor, crawling around the low table, enjoying himself. Emma kept a furtive eye on him, making sure he didn't hit his head. She brushed her fingers through Killian's soft hair, looking at him fondly.
"On that we'll agree to disagree, love."
"Yeah, I'm afraid I have to agree with Killian, Emma. Marrying a princess doesn't change who we are."
"I can't speak for Anna, but royalty's overrated."
The men laughed. "You can't change who you are, lass. Any more than we can."
"I don't know about that." She curled her fingers around Killian's hook; she didn't need him to change. She loved him just as he was. She looked at Kristoff. "I know you don't want to be here, but thanks for coming. It's good to see a friendly face."
"Anna's sorry she couldn't make it. She didn't want to leave Elsa."
"I understand." She said that, but she only sort of did. Emma didn't have any siblings; it was a bond she'd never experienced. Her mother was an only child as well. Her father had a twin, but he'd never known him. It was a story David didn't like to tell, so she'd never heard all of it.
They had a nice visit with Kristoff. Emma hadn't been wrong about seeing a friendly face. She'd been meaning to talk to Kristoff since he arrived; she'd been out of sorts and worried about her magic. They hadn't seen Tinkerbelle since her visit, but her friend sent notes keeping them apprised of her search. If anyone could figure out what was going on with her magic, it was Tink.
"He's good lad," Killian observed that evening after dinner. "Kristoff."
"Yeah. Anna's a lucky girl."
"And you're not?"
She crawled into his lap; thankfully, Liam was already asleep. "I'm the luckiest," she replied, leaning in to kiss him. Killian held her close, enjoying the feel of her pressed against him as they kissed. He ran his hand and hook over her lithe form, settling on her hips.
"Emma."
"Hmm?" She ran her lips over his scruffy jaw and throat, her clever fingers sliding under his open shirt.
"How do you feel?" They'd both been tired the last few days, falling asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillows. Emma still slept wearing one of his shirts, but he was content with baby steps.
She smiled. "Not tired at all, love," she replied, mimicking his accent. Poorly. Not that he cared. He growled and kissed her again, harder this time, his hand and hook sliding up the laces at the back of her dress. She peeled the shirt over his head; he lost patience and ripped her laces. She giggled as he yanked down the bodice of her gown, then gasped as he latched on to her nipple and sucked. She sank her fingers into his hair, her need pooling in her belly. "Oh yes, Killian."
He groaned, each wiggle of her hips making him crazy. "Missed you."
"Me too." She ground harder over his clothed erection, moaning as he rubbed her just right. "Need you."
"Aye." He flipped them over, laying her out on the couch. As quickly as he could, he removed her gown, tossing it aside. Gloriously naked, he kissed down her body, spreading her legs wide. Emma keened as he licked her, his lips and tongue wicked on her aching flesh. She had one hand in his hair, the other on the arm of the couch, gripping it tightly as she barreled closer to orgasm. He lapped at her sweetness, fingers dancing over her clit. She came with a cry, bucking against him, taking everything he could give her. Killian didn't stop, determined to bring her off again before he took her.
"One more, sweet," he coaxed, gliding a single digit into her heat. "One more for me."
His lips curled around her clit and she exploded, clamping her hand over her mouth at the last moment to muffle her scream. They couldn't wake the baby and ruin the moment. Her thighs clamped around her lover's head, her back arched off the couch as she trembled. "Killian," she panted. "Killian, please. Please get inside me. Please!"
Killian impatiently kicked off his pants, then lowered himself between her legs. They both moaned louder than they should have as he entered her, filling her in a single deep stroke. Emma drew him down to her for a breathless kiss, hanging on as he rode her into the couch. Her heels dug into his lower back, spurring him on. Killian grunted, loving the possession he felt in her touch. How could he be anything but hers?
"Emma, my Emma," he growled into her skin. "Love you so much."
"Harder, Killian. Feels so good!"
He obeyed her, holding her to him, hissing as he nails raked once more down his back. She gasped as the angle changed, his cock pounding her most sensitive place over and over until she tumbled over the edge a third time, taking him with her. Killian stilled as his cock spasmed, emptying himself within her warm depths. She clung to him, shivering with pleasure. "My Killian."
He kissed her sweaty brow. "All yours, my love." He slowly eased off her, reluctant to leave her warmth, but he didn't want to squash her. Once his breathing was closer to normal, he cleaned her up and carried her to their bed. "Ready to sleep now, sweetheart?"
"Hmm, not yet." She wanted to savor the feel of his skin little longer. "I was thinking."
"Should I be scared?"
She smacked his shoulder. "No, I was thinking about Kristoff."
He arched a brow at her. "Not something a man wants to hear after making love to his wife, love."
She rolled her eyes. "Not like that." She kissed his lips. "I've already got my pirate."
"Too right, lass." He combed his fingers through her hair. "What were you thinking?"
She took a deep breath. "I want to visit Arendelle."
"I know the queen there intrigues you."
"Killian, ever since I discovered my powers, I've wondered. I've been afraid of them. I don't want to be afraid. I don't want to turn into Rumplestiltskin or the Evil Queen."
She's spoken of these fears before. "Emma, that will never happen. You are too good. In here." He touched her heart. "But…if it will put your mind at ease, then we'll go. The Jolly can be prepped for such a voyage, but there are other things to consider."
"Like what?"
"The lad is still nursing; we'd have to bring him with us."
She hadn't thought about that. "Can we?"
"Well, I can't say I've ever had a wee babe on my ship for more than a few hours, but I think we can find a way to make it work. Perhaps we can discuss it with Tinkerbelle. If this is something you truly want."
"It is."
"Your parents will be opposed."
"I don't care. I'd rather do this with their support, but it doesn't matter. I'm the one who ultimately has to face him."
Killian suppressed a shiver. He despised the idea of his beloved going against that monster. But it was bigger than him. She was bigger than him. All he could do was love her as best he could. "Then it's settled. We're going to Arendelle."