Yay, chapter four a few days before my birthday! I especially loved writing this, just because my intense love for Lieutenant Killian makes it fun to get inside his head. I hope you guys like it!

"Where were you for so long?" Liam asks as Killian enters their inn room, eyebrows raised from where he sits at the small table. Killian smiles only slightly, carefully fixing his features to something resembling indifference rather than the happiness that wishes to break through.

"Just walking around, really," Killian replies much too easily, glancing around to see that their room for the night is bare minimum - two small beds and very little furniture otherwise. He shrugs it off, knowing very well that they have had worse accommodations.

Thankfully, his brother seems to believe his words ("Alright, we shall head out at dawn tomorrow, so I would recommend you get some sleep."), and lets Killian get settled in for the night with few other inquiries. In a way, it's good. In another, it gives him more time and silence than he believes he needs to think of the princess who has thoroughly captured his attention and interests.

Even the crickets are quiet, not concerned at all with distracting him.

He hasn't mentioned that he looked for her when he would come to dock at her land, remembering the first day he saw her so clearly in his mind. He had already found her fascinating, but when he slowly began to realize that she was watching him whenever she visited the shore, his intrigue only grew stronger. Why, in any world or realm, would someone so marvelous in every way choose to study him, to ponder his actions and pay attention to him? He isn't anything special, nothing deserving of her certainly.

When the opportunity to meet her had presented itself, so slim and such that he wasn't sure it would happen so perfectly again, there was no hesitation. He had to take it, and so he did the best he could to put forth an invitation, hoping that she felt as he did, that she wanted to meet her stranger just as much as he wanted to meet his.

And she had.

It's all a bloody mess from there, because even so early in their forming a bond, he knows that he is already too far in to step away easily. She's beautiful, more so than any woman he's ever seen, with her long blonde locks and her open eyes that seem to stare right through him, challenging what he knows. Her heart is pure, so unbelievably pure, and though that may be in part to the manner in which she was formed, he knows that part of it is simply her. She has a presence about her, much like any princess, but yet he can see her yearn for adventure and for something a bit out of the ordinary.

She already is extraordinary, he thinks, but somehow, she doesn't realize it.

There's something about her, so honest and startling and magnificent, and Killian is so terrified that he'll fall in love with her so deeply that he'll never be able to climb back out. Any other circumstances would make that a good occurrence, but his heart is heavy when he thinks on it. She is, after all, a product of the strongest magic known in any realm he's ever visited.

What is he to compete with the daughter of a love so true and pure it can do anything?

Part of him wonders if he should have saved himself the trouble. He had recognized her after the first time he saw her, but pursuing her was not a necessity. Once he had discovered from random townsfolk at the docks that she was a princess born of a couple who were True Loves, he could have simply dropped his interest and kept himself out of her enticing grasp.

It sounds simple enough, but then the other part of him knows that he was a lost cause as soon as he'd seen her that first day, a flash of blonde hair and green eyes that entranced him from first glance. He'd like to say that he could simply detach himself from this woman who has shown him only kindness and purity (and yet, so much more), but the feat would be nearly impossible.

He may already be forever in her clutches.

And if he weren't so afraid of not being enough for her (True Love's spawn and a princess?), perhaps he would celebrate the fact.

But alas, that is not the case, and so as he lies in his tiny motel bed and stares at the ceiling where all he sees is her face in the dark planks of wood, he sighs and wonders how in the bloody hell he got himself into such a beautiful, enchanting, complicated mess.

He thinks about her more often than he would care to admit, and it slowly begins to get harder and harder to convince his brother that he is simply daydreaming or suffering from lack of sleep.

(If he isn't sleeping, that, too, is completely her doing.)

"You've rarely had these issues before, Killian," Liam says, narrowing his eyes in a suspicious way that forces Killian to focus increasingly more in order to lessen his brother's wariness.

And even then, the struggle is one that takes more out of him than he expects.

He just can't stop himself from wondering what he'll say the next time he sees her (he should let her go now while it's easy- except even now it wouldn't be), or where they'll meet when they escape once again (if he sees her, he needs to end their dalliance before it's much too late).

(It's already too late.)

From what he's already learned, he knows that she is not skeptical of her parents and their True Love and the way they handle being king and queen of a land, but that perhaps she wishes they could simply be her parents instead. He can tell that she is curious to know what else is outside of her kingdom and the hold of her mother and father. He sees that despite being a bit discontent with the life she currently lives, she is still just and noble and everything a princess should be, when the circumstances call for it.

The traits he has been exposed to are admirable, and he wonders if he would feel the same of all the aspects of her personality.

(He has a sneaking suspicion that he would.)

His mind is in a constant battle with his heart, which yearns to know more about her, to dig deeper into the soul of this charming woman. He wants to know all of her dreams, all of her hopes, all of her past. He craves to go further into the heart of her, to see how she thinks and the way she views the world.

He wants to know everything about her even though he is very well aware that he shouldn't.

A hand waves in front of his face, knocking Killian out of his stupor. "Killian Jones, I do not know where it is your mind keeps going, but it needs to stop while we are on duty."

"Apologies, brother. Please." Killian gestures for his brother to speak, pushing thoughts of Emma to the back of his mind.

(For now.)

"We will now be headed to the Enchanted Forest again to take inventory of their military supplies and the like," Liam tells him. "As is routine for the allied lands in this realm."

Killian's chest constricts almost painfully in his chest, and he (with difficulty) keeps his breathing even and his face still as he responds. "I'll prepare the ship."

As soon as he turns from his brother, a smile breaks out onto his features, all insecurities and doubts and "I really shouldn't"s fleeing his mind as he once again finds himself trapped in the treacherous grasp of his beautiful princess before he's even seen her again.

And gods above, he knows he'll never escape.

(No matter how much he needs to, he doesn't ever want to.)

The life Killian Jones has led is not as awe inspiring as Emma seems to believe, but strangely enough, it's what he finds himself thinking of as they set sail toward her land.

After their mother had died, he and Liam had mutually decided that they would join the Navy for their kingdom, and they easily picked up more and more recognition by doing extremely well. Now, they simply did running jobs more often than more dangerous jobs, though they had experienced their fair share of those in order to get to where they were. In a manner of speaking, it kept their minds occupied enough not to miss the life they could hardly remember anymore, with two parents to tend to them and the family eating together every evening.

They'd been on their own for so long now, relying only on each other, that any life they had before their current one is distant, collecting dust in the back corners of their minds.

(But never completely gone.)

Killian thinks it's fascinating that they found comfort in rogue missions and dangerous journeys, trading a life of ease for one much less quaint. They had, however, taking each rush as something to grasp onto in lieu of having anything else to attach themselves to. There was no home, no mother to welcome them after a hard day's work, no father to be proud of them. Leaving had been easier, and they felt that putting their focus into something that gained honor was the best option for them.

So, that's what they'd done.

It hadn't replaced their runaway father or deceased mother by any means, but it gave them a ship to call their own, a crew of men at their side, and a life where they would never, no matter the circumstance, lose their good form, like their father before them. It was all they had left some days, other than the company of a brother, and they would not have that torn away from them, too.

He had hid it from every soul other than his brother, but when they'd first set sail, Killian had wound up seasick for the first few days. Staying below deck on most occasions had kept his secret, and with time, he had grown accustomed to the rocking of the ship. Eventually, the sea even became a comfort to him, because despite its constant movement and continuous changing, it was one of the most steady and consistent parts of his life.

(Other than Liam, of course.)

The mere thought of ever having to live without his brother shakes him, and no matter what they do he always worries that the one person he has left will be snatched away from him as well. Liam has been his parent for what seems to be ages, and if that man were ever lost, Killian knows he would be, too. He isn't sure what he would do, but one thing that he is certain of is that he does not want to find out.

"Killian," his brother's voice calls. "We're nearing the shore."

A smile tugs up the corners of his lips. "I shall be up in a moment," he returns, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before sighing and climbing up the ladder to the deck in order to prepare the ship for docking, just as he's done countless times.

Familiarity like that is something he thinks he'll never take for granted.

Consistency is something that Killian appreciates, because after everything he's lived through, consistency means a plan. Consistency equates to the well known, and after a life full of unpleasant surprises, habit and routine are welcomed.

Yet, every time he catches sight of Emma's face, with her beautiful smile and green eyes, tiny nose and dented chin, his heart races in a way he is most certainly not familiar with (but can't help liking). And as much as that terrifies him, to be in unaccustomed waters, his being craves to see her, talk to her, know her.

He's in such bloody trouble, but he swears that an upset has never been more rewarding.

As he walks onto the dock, his eyes scan for her and he doesn't see her right off, which makes his chest deflate just the slightest. Perhaps it's for the best rings around in his mind, and the possibility that the voice is correct is more likely than it being incorrect, but he still feels disappointment flood through him like the worst of monsoons.

He thinks maybe he shouldn't be comparing his disappointment to a storm, but instead paint her as the heavy rain and wind, knocking him off of his feet and leaving him little air to breathe with simply her presence. Trying not to think of her, he follows his brother as they go about their business, doing what they had set out to do. Liam seems to be moving swiftly and Killian can't help but watch the horizon, hoping that the sun may set before they finish.

When it seems as if that won't happen, Killian makes a quick decision, clearing his throat to ask, "Liam, do you suppose we could stay docked here for the night? We have no immediate concerns to get to tomorrow, correct?"

His brother raises an eyebrow, his lips pursed as he assesses Killian. Eventually, he shrugs. "I am well aware there is something going on with you in these parts, but as long as it does not affect our work, I can look the other way. We'll leave within an hour of dawn tomorrow, understood?"

"Aye, brother," Killian replies, smiling widely at Liam and helping him finish up the last of their duties rather swiftly.

He hopes that by now, his princess has seen his ship docked, and that maybe she waits for him near the shore. Maybe it isn't the smartest thing he's ever done, but maybe (just maybe) that's alright.

Maybe it isn't supposed to be.

It certainly doesn't help his case much when her face lights up at the sight of him, her eyes widening and a smile breaking out across her features. She's his own personal siren, the one monster he thought he had been lucky enough to avoid, only to find one all too set on wrecking his world.

Even if she doesn't realize it.

He returns her smile, walking over and giving a little bow as he approaches. She casts a glance around them, seeming to scan the crowd for something in particular. After a moment, she nods and asks him if their place by the river will do for today.

Their place.

His heart is pounding too quickly in his chest for him to say anything but a simple yes.

Unlike their first meeting by the river, this time they walk together, side by side, with the warmth of her body enticing him. Once, while they walk, her hand brushes against his, which makes a spark run up his arm and through his body.

"What brings you here today?" she asks once they are seated on their stones, and her voice is casual, the question simply her expressing curiosity for what he does and where he's been. She smiles at him when he catches her eye, and he has to smile back because perhaps the question is being asked because she genuinely wants to know.

Maybe she really cares.

So he tells her what their job had entailed and she listens intently, asking further inquiries and smiling at him as if she has no other care in the world, as if her entire day is made up entirely of his presence and his words. She asks for another story as a gust of wind blows a piece of her long, blonde hair into her face, and before he's even processed the movement, he's reached up to tuck it back behind her ear. Her breath hitches in time with his own, and he's sure that every being in the entire Enchanted Forest can hear the hammering of his heart.

She swallows and then gives him a shaky smile, and he lowers his hand before he truly does something unwise. He lets his gaze find her lips for only the briefest of moments, giving himself the smallest fantasy of what it would feel like to kiss her, really kiss her. He's kissed a handful of women in his lifetime, but none have held the captivation of the woman in front of him.

He can't help wondering if caring this strongly for her would make her kiss even sweeter.

But kissing her isn't smart.

She's a princess, a product of True Love, and the fairest maiden he's ever laid his eyes on.

A simple affair turns into a much worse situation if he lets himself kiss her.

But when she tells him a story of her mother's best friend, Red, who often watched Emma when she was little, he finds himself leaning toward her and wishing he could listen to her talk forever. He wants to sit beside her as she speaks on and on, telling him all of her stories no matter how uneventful she believes they are. Her eyes shine with something that he knows must be rare, a beautiful mix of kindness, compassion, humor, and all that is good in any soul.

Hers is special, and he can see it so achingly clearly that he's sure she's put a spell on him that nothing can undo.

She's as much of an angel as she is a siren.

He's in monumentally over his head, struggling to keep himself above the inconsistent waters, but every time he looks at her, he swears he's closer and closer to drowning.