And here it is, the moment you have been waiting for; Emma and Killian finally seeing each other again. Let me know how you like it, and see you in two days for the update!
Upon Killian's arrival at Storybrooke Manor, the staff is waiting on the front steps arranged in neat rows, headed by Mrs. Simms, the ancient housekeeper who was slightly less ancient the last time Killian was here, and a bearded gentleman who must be Liam's steward, Mr. Humbert.
"We are so very happy to have you back, your Grace", Mrs. Simms says and holds out her hand for Killian's, her eyes brimming with tears when he limps over and takes her offered hand.
She was always sneaking him sweets and giving him cookies well before it was time for tea, telling him in a whisper that he was her favourite, and now Killian gives her a reassuring smile, introducing her to Kristoff and nodding to the maids and grooms before facing Mr. Humbert.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, your Grace", the man says and bows to Killian, inviting him to come in and assuring him that there are currently no pressing business issues, and that he will gladly answer all Killian's questions whenever he feels ready to ask them.
It is a relief to be dealing with somebody so sensible and Killian lets himself get swept inside, Mrs. Simms coaxing him into an early lunch he eats alone while Kristoff takes the trunks upstairs.
Afterwards, he gets assaulted with a wave of melancholy so profound that it feels like the walls of his childhood home are closing in on him, so he walks outside through the closest French doors as fast as he is able, following the gravel until he reaches the lawn and then carefully descending the gentle slope that leads to the lake.
He is as winded as if he had just ran miles and the wind makes his eyes sting as he looks out over the smooth surface of the lake, then realizes with a start that he is standing at the very place where Lady Emma had given him that celebratory kiss.
The possibility that she might be settling into Misthaven Hall even now fills him with a strange combination of longing and apprehension that he absolutely does not wish to contemplate at this time.
Over the year he had thought of Swan only in moments of great distress, always telling himself that she seems like a safe haven for the sole reason of being his only confidante; he never made any friends in school, and until Kristoff the same had been true in the Navy.
As the second son of a Duke he had not been interesting enough to attract hangers on and still not approachable enough to invite true friendship, but he had gotten used to the loneliness of it and dedicated everything to his service. Men respected him, and that was the most important thing, but standing at the edge of this lake with an aching knee and an aching heart, he catches himself imagining a chance meeting with Swan, then quickly shakes himself out of the daydream.
He stands watching the lake a while longer, letting his thoughts drift without settling on anything in particular ever if gold tresses keep interrupting; people always said that Lady Emma's eyes were the exact same colour as this lake and he wonders if it is still the truth.
"You bloody idiot", he says to himself and turns his back on the lake, making his slow way back to the house, gritting his teeth against the pain and coming in through the nursery wing instead going the long way around.
He halts just inside the playroom, shocked at the presence of a toddler sitting on the floor and playing with a wooden horse.
The child looks up and offers Killian a toothy grin, then sets the horse down and climbs to his feet with the help of his tiny hands before coming closer to where Killian is still rooted to the same spot.
"Who are you?" The child asks in a ringing voice and hugs the horse to his chest. "What is that?"
Killian shifts his bewildered gaze from the boy to the hook he is pointing at and hastily hides it behind his back, lest it scared the child.
"It is a hook", Killian says, then remembers that there was another question before the one he answered. "My name is Killian. Who might you be?"
"Owen", the boy says and offers Killian a beaming smile. "Will you play with me?"
Killian smiles wryly because only a child would talk so freely with a duke, and he is tempted to actually join him instead of leaving to figure out who the child in his old playroom belongs to.
Before he can make the final decision the inner door of the playroom opens and Mr. Humbert comes in, picks up Owen and profusely apologizes to Killian.
"He gets into a habit of wandering away from our rooms when I am busy elsewhere", Mr. Humbert says and scowls at the boy who Killian presumes is his son.
"It is quite alright", Killian says and winks at the boy. "The lad was simply looking for a playmate."
"A playmate", Mr. Humbert says, his cheeks burning in embarrassment. "Please tell me you did not invite his Grace to play with you, Owen."
"He wasn't mad", Owen says with a shrug and wiggles until Mr. Humbert does not have a choice but to set him down or risk getting hit in the face with a wooden horse.
"Please excuse me and my son, your Grace", Mr. Humbert apologizes again while steering Owen toward the door. "I will make sure he does not bother you again."
Before Killian can say anything else the father and son are gone, and he sits down heavily on a loveseat in the corner, giving in to hopelessness and remaining there all through the afternoon.
Emma is sitting behind a table in the parlour writing a letter to Elsa to inquire about her plans on leaving London, feeling a little bit guilty for being so impatient but it does not stop her from blotting out the later and neatly addressing the envelope.
She is about to go to the library to pick a new book because she had already finished the one she started on the journey here even though they had returned just a day ago, but the door opens and her father comes in, his eyes bright from his outing.
"I am cross with you, papa", Emma fakes a pout and rises from the table, unable to hide a grin when her father laughs.
"What have I done now?"
"You have gone riding without me", Emma tells him and rings the bell so that the maid can take her letter to the post.
"I apologize profusely, but you still have not risen by the time I was well on my way", the Earl says, his eyes dancing with mirth as he settles down on the sofa. "I would offer to take you riding in the afternoon but we are going to have a guest."
"A guest? Whom?"
"The Duke of Storybrooke", the Earl says and Emma's eyes go wide.
"Killian?!"
"Ah, so you do remember him. You used to follow the Duke and his late brother like a puppy for a whole summer before their mother died."
"I was not following them!" Emma exclaims with indignation and feels her cheeks flush. "We were playing together, that is all."
Her father looks at her askance and Emma rolls her eyes, the gets up and crosses over to the window, looking down the drive-way as if Killian might already be approaching the house.
"Does he look well?"
"Well enough, I suppose. He had lost a hand, but it does not seem to hamper his riding", the Earl says and Emma feels her stomach descend to somewhere around her knees.
"He lost a hand", she repeats to herself as if saying the words would make them more real, but she cannot quite wrap her mind around such reality.
When she tries to remember what he had looked like when they were playing together, it is always more feelings than images; she knows that his hair was dark and his eyes were blue as the sky, but she simply cannot conjure up his face in her mind.
She can remember the feelings precisely, the pure joy she had felt during their games, especially those Liam had claimed too childish to participate in and went off on his own.
She had not felt the same joy since then.
Not even while dancing with Neal.
A couple hours later Emma is sitting on the sofa next to her mother, embroidery on her lap even though she does not intend to take it up because she does not have the patience for it at the moment.
She scolds herself for being so jittery and sets the embroidery on the table next to the sofa just as there is a knock on the door and the butler leads Killian in.
"The Duke of Storybrooke", Burns intones and Emma watches as Killian limps over to greet her father and quietly wonders how she had managed to forget his face.
She does not even notice the hook until Killian is standing in front of her and bowing over her hand, his lips only just grazing her knuckles.
"Lady Emma", he says and she belatedly realizes that she should have been standing, but since it is too late to fix her blunder, she just inclines her head, her voice surprisingly calm when she speaks.
"It is nice to see you again, your Grace", she says, almost chuckling because that is such an understatement.
"I know my husband has already expressed our condolences for the death of your brother, but let me say how sorry I am too", Emma's mother says when Killian moves on to bow over her hand and Emma's heart squeezes in her chest when a look of pain flashes over his face before he brings himself under control.
"Thank you, Lady Misthaven", Killian says graciously and takes a seat in a chair across from them while Emma's father remains standing.
"Emma was quite inconsolable once the word reached us", the Earl says and Emma somehow manages to withstand the full power of Killian's blue gaze.
"It was such a tragedy", the Countess says and Killian just nods; Emma feels his eyes on her even when she looks away as the tea tray arrives. "Will you pour, Emma?"
"Of course, mama", Emma rises and tries to keep her hands steady while she inquires about the way Killian takes his tea, thankfully managing to hand him the cup without a mishap.
She pours for her parents while Killian balances the saucer on his knee and it is only then that she starts thinking about the multiple ways missing a hand affects one's life, unexpected tears burning her eyes so that she has to turn back to the tea tray and take a long time to pour her own cup.
Emma seems to misplace her voice for the rest of Killian's visit, feeling foolish and wishing he would leave, at the same time feeling guilty for thinking like that.
The Earl asks about the War and suffers a withering look from his wife but Killian does not seem to mind and regales them with a couple of funny stories from his Navy days, his eyes seeking out Emma's and his dimples flashing in an entirely unfair way.
"It is such a lovely day today; we should all take a turn around the garden and take advantage of it", Lady Misthaven says and before long they are strolling outside, Emma's hand resting on Killian's arm, every fibre of her being acutely aware of their closeness.
He was her best friend and she convinces herself that he can be one again.
"You have been exceptionally quiet, Swan", he says, and as she smiles at the old nickname the awkward atmosphere between them finally dissipates.
"I am sorry, your Gace", Emma says, matching her steps to his limp and tipping her head to look at him from under her eyelashes. "It has been so long since we saw each other last, since..."
"Since you kissed me?" He asks and gives her an amused smile that warms her up inside and somehow puts her at ease.
"That was not a very gentlemanly thing to do", she tells him and points at a bench they are nearing. "Let us sit."
"You should not be trying to accommodate my leg", Killian admonishes her as they sit side by side and Emma shakes her head because she does not mind sitting instead of walking. "And I am always a gentleman."
"I was so mortified with what I had done", Emma steers the conversation away from the subject of his war wounds and he looks grateful that she had done it. "I thought they would arrest me for kissing you before we were married."
"We were betrothed? It seems I have forgotten that", Killian says, his eyes dancing with amusement until he notices that her smile has evaporated. "What is the matter, Swan?"
"Nothing, I just... Nothing", Emma answers quietly, and as she averts her eyes from Killian's probing gaze she finally realizes why she had been rejecting all those admirers before Lord Neal and why she feels more anger and betrayal than heartbreak at his rejection.
She had been chasing that elusive feeling of joy from her childhood all along, never realizing that it can only be recaptured with the person who had first made her experience it, and now that Killian is finally back, he is entirely out of her grasp.
It is a good thing that she has accepted her spinsterhood because otherwise she might just weep at her misfortune.
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