It was beautiful. Almost as beautiful as her, though Killian wasn't sure anything would ever match her beauty. Still, he could not get over how spacious and luxurious it was. It almost reminds him of a palace, though on a much smaller scale. It is all marble and sandstone. All smooth curves and vast, empty spaces filled with gleaming trinkets. It was a pirate's dream come true. Treasure and jewels galore.

"Bloody hell," Killian murmured as he stared. He followed her through a narrow hall cut into the marble, his fingers on his one hand trailing along the walls carved with symbols. His gaze widened as they walked into a great cavern, though it was no cave, rather a vast, echoing hall and yet another part of her palace. Columns towered over him, holding up a ceiling lost in the blinding light of the diamonds twinkling above. Carving wound up the columns with jewels embedded throughout.

The air is thick with magic. He feels it the first moment she transported him inside. It clings to the walls, drips from the ceilings, puddles on the floor. The room grows light as the diamonds above swell with light.

Of course, he is right to be awestruck. This is no ordinary home, but Emma's. He can't fathom how so much space can fit into such a tiny bottle.

For some time, he had wondered what her home looked like. When he had casually asked late that evening she had asked if he would like to see inside her bottle. Killian jumped at the chance, excited to see more of her world. She had grabbed his hand and then it had happened.

For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. In what seemed like an eternity between heartbeats, Emma seemed to think, dream and create, pulling Killian into a world he could only dream of. And then time seemed to slip back into motion. They slid seamlessly into movement.

Smoke and glitter began to rise from the ground, engulfing them. It coiled and swirled around, making Killian dizzy and disoriented. It spiraled around them, further astounding him. He stared at her with eyes like twin moons, disbelieving what was happening and half dazed.

The ship bent away and in a heartbeat everything in his cabin vanished, left behind and he and Emma crossed through an impossible space. The entire time, his eyes remained locked on Emma, watching, waiting. He held his breath, his body rigid, his hand clamped tightly in hers.

Without moving, they passed through the neck of the bottle, through a long passageway, through an invisible barrier that seemed to only allow him to pass through since he was attached to Emma.

With a soft exhale, Emma seemed to release a last whisper of magic before the swirling smoke and the world around them slowed to a halt. The wind and smoke fell away, leaving Emma and Killian standing in a grand foyer, marble surrounding them and columns towering above them.

Now he understood why she did not mind spending time in her bottle. Though he wondered if she ever grew lonely, especially in such a large, expansive place.

Rich carpets and tapestries of silk added color to the walls and floors. A fountain bubbled in the center of the grand foyer. Cashmere blankets softer than any fur he had ever felt were draped over lounges.

The hall that leads to her sitting room is tasteful but ornate, sculpted into a series of fantastic arches, each carved with detailed vines and leaves and supported by blood-colored marble columns. Light, from an unknown source, beams in, revealing the delicate white veins of the deep red marble, as if the columns are made of exposed muscle.

The sitting room is set in the center, or so Emma tells him. Tall doors of polished teak wood carved with roses with thick thorns tower over them. On either side, gargoyles as tall as four men stand over, watching, waiting; their sightless eyes glaring down at them. A shiver creeps up Killian's back as he stares at the ornaments, silently wondering if they are real or stone.

"They are stone, master," Emma elucidates before waving her arms, causing the doors to open, revealing the grandest room Killian had ever seen. The chamber is enormous, divided into five long, narrow sections by double rows of stone pillars that march from one end to the other. They support a roof that vaults upward into five massive domes, each glittering with gold and diamonds. On the walls, enormous carvings depict a detailed sequence of events, some of them recalling the very origins of the jinns.

In one, an angel and jinn with flames surrounding them, burning the entirety of existence. The beautiful angel with flowing hair is on its knees, looking pious and tragic while the ugly jinn with horns, wings, and claws crouches on the angel's back and prepares to tear out its throat. As Killian inspects it further, he notes similarities between the angel and Emma. Beneath the image, the words, "The Fall of the King," are carved.

Killian wonders at the name, but not for long. Emma urges him forward.

In the center sits a throne. Wrought from iron and rubies, the metal twisted to resemble rose vines. It was covered in rich velvet. It really was quite beautiful.

Tables with ornate vases sit on the sides of the hall. Mirrors with gleaming gold frames hang on the walls. Chandeliers hang above.

His mind fills with images of grand balls taking place. He could just imagine Emma in a beautiful ball gown, floating across the floor in the arms of some pompous prince or king. But then the image shifts, and instead she is dancing with him, her body pressed tightly against his as an orchestra plays off in the distance. They glide about the floor, a smile wide on her lips as he twirls her about.

Shaking the image from his mind, Killian returns to the present.

"There is no bedroom?" Killian inquires, wondering if this is the end of the tour.

"Jinnis do not sleep, master." He had suspected as much, especially after a rather strange conversation with Smee. His first mate had insisted that he had seen Emma sprout wings and fight off a great sea monster with nothing but a strange light

"No kitchen?" He queried. She had insisted she was well stocked. While her home was exquisite, he had not seen anyplace that resembled a place where she could cook or eat. Had she lied to him all this time?

"Jinnis cannot lie. I return to my land so that I may eat with others of my kind and under the grace of our King," Emma clarified, her voice carrying in the large cavernous hall. "He provides all that we need."

"Ah," Killian hummed, though he internally rolled his eyes at the thought of depending on a king for everything. Look what good that had brought him. Though it was obvious Emma's king did provide her with plenty as he continued to look around the grand hall. Maybe his earlier suspicions were correct, and Emma and her king were closer than she let on.

Before he could comment further he noted a small white blanket draped over the throne. He moved toward it, his eyes closing to mere slits as he inspected it. The blanket was made of a rich white velvet, edged in purple ribbon with the name Emma stitched on one corner. It reminded him of a blanket one would wrap a babe in. He started to reach for it, recognition flitting on the edge of his mind, but was thwarted when Emma snatched it, clutching it to her body protectively. She glanced down at it, lashes lowered as a wistful smile lit her lips.

Killian continued to stare at it, wracking his mind for where he had seen it but drawing a blank.

"I apologize, Emma. I thought I had seen that blanket before," Killian offered after a moment. She considered him as she continued to cuddle the blanket.

"It is all I have left from my time with my parents," Emma whispered reflectively. Despite the vast gold, gems, and precious stone, it was clear she treasured the blanket most.

Killian softened, forcing a smile as he backed away. He turned about, taking in the room. It was deathly quiet. Hoping to change the suddenly solemn mood, he steered the conversation to a happier topic.

"Well, it is quite the abode you have here." Emma brightened and gave a soft tinkle of a laugh.

"It seems to grow larger every day." Killian's jaw fell slack as he tried to imagine her home becoming any bigger. It was already larger than his ship, closer in size to small castle or manor. All somehow contained in a bottle no bigger than most rum containers. Briefly, Killian wondered how much rum Emma's magic bottle would hold.

"Surely, you jest!" Emma laughed even harder. The smile illuminating her face brightening the large room.

"Never, master! I told you…"

"I know, jinnis can't lie. But how in bloody hell could this place grow any larger? Won't you run out of bottle?"

"I don't know. But every time I return there is something new." Emma shrugged, seemingly unfazed by her home somehow changing on her.

Killian considered her for a moment before continuing her perusal of the room. Another picture, on the far end of the room, caught his attention. It was intricately carved into the wood. A woman cuddled a babe wrapped in a blanket to her as a man stood behind and looked down upon the two. Nearby, an ugly jinn lay in waiting, its claws curling around the baby's leg. A thought suddenly struck him as he continued to gaze at the carving.

"Is that you?"

"I suspect." At his imploring gaze, Emma reminds him that she knows as much he does as she was only a babe when she was taken.

"And the other images?" Emma turned about, looking at the various carvings in the hall. There were quite a few. They all depicted various stages of humanity and their interactions with the jinn. Her eyes caught on the image of the angel and the jinn.

"The history of the world. Take this one; it is told that once, long, long ago, a powerful jinn fell in love with a mortal queen that had found his lamp. Only she was no mortal but born of an angel. When the jinn's ruler found out, he became enraged and forced the jinn to destroy his love. Only, instead of allowing him to destroy her, she freed her love by wishing for that which is forbidden and taking his place."

"What happened?" Killian asked, his interest clear.

"When the king found out, he was infuriated. His wrath was quick. He tried to kill her, but a jinn is no match for an angel, especially an angel that was now a jinn."

"So, she rules to this day?"

"No," Emma said sadly with a shake of her head. "A mortal found her and stole her magic and power. He locked her away in an enchanted bottle that only her true love could open. Only her true love had become a mortal; he aged and withered and ultimately died before he could find and free her. To this day, no one knows where she is."

...

They are in another port, at another tavern. A few weeks have passed, and the moon is nearly full. Emma was growing desperate, but Killian insisted they needed to stop. The ship needed supplies, and the crew needed food and water if they were to continue towards the Enchanted Forest where the Dark One lived. A reprieve from life on the ship would boost his crews' spirits ahead of the remainder of the journey.

Along the way they had taken a few ships, plundering each with an ease that even impressed Emma. With each passing day, she coaxed out more information about the Dark One, all the while trying to figure out how to find what she was looking for and best the man who held the power to control jinns.

Now, at the tavern, Emma watched as Killian moved about the room, invited to games of cards and dice, or conversations. Emma trailed after him, trying to keep up, if only because she had to lest she was pulled back into the bottle for venturing too far. Still, Emma is impressed by how well Killian adapts to each crowd. He blends in perfectly no matter the clique, his manners charming and his conversation fascination.

"Shall I tell you the story of how we overtook King George's best ship?" he asks a group of pirates and wenches over a game of dice. The women giggled eagerly, prompting him to launch into a ridiculous story that Emma knows is partially lies but mostly true. She stood behind Killian, as usual. As his tale grows wilder and wilder, Emma watched the faces of his listeners as they moved from wonder to shock to horror.

"We fired as we turned, holding them at bay until at last, we had them right where we wanted them." Gasps rang out all around, and Emma had to blink as she caught herself wrapped up in the story. She forgot that Killian was silver-tongued indeed, and though his stories grew more improbable with each drink, he never failed to draw a crowd. There was so much more to Killian then Emma had ever imagined, and for the first time, Emma found that his crew and the wenches at the tavern were not the only ones who were falling under his spell.

Too often, Emma found herself listening raptly to his tall tales, a realization that filled her with alarm and confusion. She started to turn away but stopped suddenly when the crowd in the tavern parted. A slender, beautiful young woman of seventeen or eighteen appears, her corset laced tightly and her blouse pulled low. She is pretty, with thick dark hair, her eyes smeared with kohl, and lips painted a bright red. She smiled coyly at Killian, her eyelashes lowering as her cheeks tinged a lovely pink. Emma watched as Killian's eyes widened slightly, his eyes alight with interest. A pang set in deep within her chest, but she pushed it away.

"Who's she?" Emma overhears Killian ask as the woman takes a seat across from him.

His second in command, Starkey, rolled his eyes. "I don't know, Captain, but looks like she's plenty interested in you."

Killian smirked at the lovely lass, his rum-filled mind as hazy as his judgment.

A moment later and the young lass is sitting beside Killian, smiling shyly up at him. Emma watched as Killian leaned over and whispered into her ear. She couldn't quite hear what he said, but she definitely heard what the girl replied.

"Is that so, handsome?" Killian grinned in return, chucking a finger under her chin and forcing her to meet his gaze.

"You busy later?" Killian asked the girl a moment later, more than a little drunk. Emma sighed and shook her head before turning around, unable to watch or hear anymore.

Making her way to a cleared spot toward the back of the tavern, Emma watched the scene play out before her, a sinking feeling growing in her stomach.

Before she could completely lose her stomach, a young man appeared at her side, two tankards in his hands. He gave Emma an appraising look with one eyebrow arched.

"I know that look," he chuckled.

"What look?" Emma asked crossly.

"The girls he loved and left look." He quirked an eyebrow at her, silently challenging her. He offered her a tankard, which Emma refused.

Irritably, she looked away.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure, you don't," the stranger smiled sadly, his honey eyes closing with a shake of his head, his long chocolate brown hair falling over his eyes. "You can either hate him or accept that that's just who he is. Probably sets his heart on something or someone, and nothing can stop him from getting it. And when he does have it, he realizes it's not what he wanted after all. Only then something else will catch his eye, and off he goes again. Over and over. And here you are, the casualty."

"I'm nobodies casualty," Emma insisted, indigently. She turned her attention back to her master and watched him whispering in the girl's ear, crossing his muscular arms for her benefit. Emma rolled her eyes.

"She's pretty," the man offered, casually. He shook his head ruefully. "But she's not what he wants. Not that he'll believe that until after he's won her."

"And what does he want?" Emma turned and faced the young man.

"The same thing we all want. He just won't admit it." Emma could see the longing in the young man's eyes, as well as anger when he looks at Killian. "Freedom from the past."

Something rings at his words in the back of Emma's mind, but she can't place it. Emma's face softened until she turned and watched as the girl whispered something back to Killian, causing him to laugh, his smile lighting up his face. A moment later he leans over and whispers in her ear, and she eagerly nods, then takes his hand and coyly leads him through the tavern towards a back door.

"Looks like he's found his distraction. So, what do you say we get out of here and find our own distraction?" His eyes are alight with laughter. Emma starts to protest, but before she can, the stranger reaches out and wraps his large hand around her cuffed wrist. "Don't worry, he won't miss you, and I promise to bring you back in time for curfew."

"I…"

"I know what you are, but I promise, if you stick with me, you can leave his side, at least for a little while." Emma gasped in surprise at his words, her eyes darting down to his hand where she could feel the beat of his heart through the tips of his fingers. She contemplated him, wondering how he could possibly know what or who she was. Before she could answer, he pulled her towards the front door, his grip tightening around her wrist.

"Who are you?" Emma asked, jerking herself away, but his grasp was too strong. "How do you know…"

He stopped and turned to look at her, his eyes gazing deeply back at her. He was no jinn, that much she was sure of. But she also did not feel any danger in his presence.

"Names Bealfire. Now let's go have some fun!"

...

The street was blissfully quiet as Killian and the girl escaped the tavern, their laughter following them as they walked through the shadows of the night. In a nearby building, a baby cried and a cat meowed in response. A windchime carillons in the wind. The smell of ale and rancid fish waft through the blowing wind. Though the tavern was boisterous, not a sound escapes through the wide stones beneath their feet.

Killian and his companion continued to whisper and laugh amongst each other. Eventually, they stop in an alley and stare at each other. In the back of his mind, Killian feels like he is forgetting something, but as his companion presses her body against his, he quickly forgets.

"What's your name?" Killian finally asked.

"You first, sailor."

"Captain Hook."

"I've heard of you." She smiles and runs her hand down his chest.

Though Killian is intoxicated, it is not only from the rum and ale. He leaned forward, his hips rutting into hers as he backed her up against the wall. His lips fell to the crook of her neck while his nose inhaled the scent of her hair. It smelled of something he remembered, but he couldn't quite place it. His hackles went up, but she soothed them with a brush of her lips.

"Oh really? And what have you heard?" He murmured as he kissed up her neck.

"That you are the most fearsome pirate of the seas and the best at what you do. That you…" she stopped to plant a kiss on the corner of his jaw before continuing, "have something very valuable in your possession."

Killian paused, his lips brushing the corner of her lips.

"And what do I hold that is so valuable?" he murmured, his lips chasing hers.

"It is said, you possess a jinni." Killian stilled at her words, sobering instantly as he suddenly wondered where Emma was. Before he can pull back or react, a small group of thuggish men surrounded him, a black bag ready to throw over his head. The girl he had been close to kissing moved to knock him unconscious, but before she could act, there was a scuffle behind them.

Killian watched as his crew appeared behind the thugs, fanned out around them and ready to protect their captain. A scuffle ensued, ending with the woman held captive while the ruffians were left in a heap on the ground. The woman sagged back against the wall behind her, a stunned expression covering her face.

One everyone was subdued and secured, Killian turned to more pressing matters.

"Where is Emma?"

Smee came forward, his red cap nervously gripped in his hands as he looked down at the ground.

"Gone, captain. Left with some man moments after you," Smee explained. Killian swallowed past the lump that had suddenly developed in his throat. It couldn't be. She was bound to him, or so she had said. Which meant she couldn't be far.

He couldn't even remember what had happened. One moment he had been enjoying her company while playing a game and the next all he could remember was the young woman taking control of his every thought. He stared at the girl warily.

"What did you do to me?" She squared her jaw and looked at him defiantly. Her chest heaved, and her eyes narrowed. With a shake of her head, the glamour spell she had been given crumbled before everyone's eyes. Gone was the beautiful young siren, replaced by the bar wench Killian had met weeks earlier at the tavern when he had free Emma from her bottle and introduced her to his crew. "Where's Emma?"

"It's too late captain, she's gone. You'll never see your precious jinni again."