A/N: I'm sorry for how long it took me to get this chapter done. A hurricane-level storm of real-life complications hit me over the past few weeks and left me without much time or energy to write. Hopefully the next one won't take quite so long! Also, I owe a BIG thank you to those of you who have been leaving me reviews. They have all been so lovely! (And some from people who are kind of a big deal! Omg.) It really makes my day every time one pops into my inbox. And, as ever, thanks to OnceUponSomeChaos who patiently listened to all my bitching and moaning over this chapter and then directed it toward sensible revisions. :)
Deep in my soul that tender secret dwells,
Lonely and lost to light for evermore,
Save when to thine my heart responsive swells,
Then trembles into silence as before.
-The Corsair, Lord Byron
Chapter 7: In Which Regina's Scheming Pays Off
Killian brushed his fingers across his lips and blew out a breath, his heart still racing. Emma could say so all she wanted, but he knew a kiss like that could never be a one time thing. He didn't watch her leave, choosing instead to look out over the water as his whole body hummed. From his belt, he retrieved his flask of rum and took a long, steadying drink.
He hadn't expected Emma to respond to his challenge.
When she did, grasping him by the collar to pull him into a searing, passionate kiss, his mind had gone blank. He remembered putting a hand in her hair, but it hadn't been a conscious decision. More of a reflex. And after that? Nothing but the mind-blowing realization that he wanted more. He'd known from the moment he first laid eyes on Emma that he desired her physically. But emotionally?
He took another drink, attempting to drown out the memory of her kiss, but it resurfaced immediately, bright and buoyant. In vivid detail, he recalled how she'd tasted, how she'd smelled, and the sound of the half-suppressed groan she'd breathed out when he'd kissed her back.
Bloody hell.
He had never felt so thrown.
As evening fell, he took over duty at the helm from Ed, who gave him a knowing look.
"Something you want to say, sailor?" Killian demanded sharply.
"No, Captain." Ed shook his head. "Just wouldn't blame you if you wanted to get something to eat and hit the sheets after the day you've had."
"I'd prefer to stay here for a while."
Ed smirked. "Afraid the little lady might not be as welcoming as she was this afternoon?"
Killian glared at him. "My relationship with the princess is not a topic for discussion."
"If you say so. But you should know, she was mighty worried when those sirens took you away. Wouldn't allow so much a whisper of turning tail and running away."
"What are you trying to imply?"
Ed leaned in, his voice low. "Just that there's a fierce passion in that girl. And it burns extra bright when you're involved."
He winked and Killian sighed. He knew that his kiss with the princess would generate a lot of chatter, but he hadn't expected anyone to show genuine interest in helping their relationship along. Emma had been staying in his cabin long enough now that most of the men already assumed they'd become more than a little friendly. Ed, as one of Emma's closest confidants on board the Jolly Roger, knew better. But that still didn't make it any of his business.
"Encourage the rest of the men to keep their mouths shut," he said and waved Ed away.
Ed nodded and bid him goodnight.
For a long time, he stood at the wheel, sipping rum and working through his thoughts as he looked out over the waves and stars. It didn't help, just left him tipsy and exhausted. Some time deep into the night, he handed over navigation duties to Smee and stopped in the galley to eat before returning to his quarters.
With great relief, he discovered Emma already asleep. The top of her head protruded from underneath the blankets on the floor. She didn't move as he stepped past her, pulled off his boots and waistcoat, then loosened the laces on his pants and climbed into bed.
He had expected to find it difficult to sleep with her so close at hand, her presence filling him with half-drunk fantasies. Instead, the steady cadence of her breathing and the easy warmth of her company soothed him. The day's exceptional tensions ebbed away, and he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
In her time as queen, Regina had transformed the airy, whitewashed castle she'd known as a girl into an impregnable, dark fortress. No one came or went except by her invitation. Enchantments protected every window. Faceless guards stood on either side of the massive gates. Whenever she held court, she did so from a second floor balcony, her people crowded into the plaza below. Yet, she did not consider the balcony where she passed edicts and decided the fate of every man, woman, and child in her kingdom the true seat of her power.
That existed three floors down, deep in the private wing of her personal quarters.
Her heels struck the marble floor with sharp claps as she strode down the long corridor. Already, she could sense the power emanating from the chamber at the end of the hall — the warm, red glow of a thousand human hearts.
Inside, she bolted the door behind her before closing her eyes, taking in the whispers and phantom memories emanating from the walls, zeroing in on one amongst the chaos.
There.
She pulled open a drawer — one of an uncounted multitude — and reached to fetch the beating heart within.
The moment her fingers closed around it, she became linked to its owner: able to see what he saw, feel what he felt, and even control what he thought and said. The confusing duality of existence that occurred while holding the enchanted heart of another had nearly driven her mad at first. After decades of practice, seeing two things and being two people at once had become second nature. She looked around the room, seeing both the drawers of hearts and the wide open sea. The sensation of the cool, salty breeze rose gooseflesh across her skin and made her shiver in the still, dark depths of her castle.
The Huntsman stood brooding as he looked across the water at a frigate with a silver and blue unicorn figurehead. Regina recognized the ship as one of Snow's — Who else would put unicorns on a warship? — and pressed further into the Huntsman's thoughts, following the thread of his discontent, searching for its source.
Finally, she found it. A memory.
It flashed through Regina's mind in the blink of an eye, as vivid as if she had lived it herself, and what she saw made her hand tighten so hard around the heart that the Huntsman winced in pain.
Emma was alive.
Even worse, Snow's men knew it.
The two ships sat drifting, waiting to see if the pirate would escape from Skull Rock. The Huntsman hoped they all had perished, but Regina knew better. Killian Jones had a talent for surviving. Plus, he had sailed those treacherous waters once before. It would take more than a handful of sirens to destroy him.
Relaxing her grip, Regina plunged deeper into what the Huntsman knew of the situation. The man's suspicion that the dastardly pirate had developed feelings for the fair princess made her stop and roll her eyes.
Of course. She should have guessed he'd fall for the girl. He was the type, after all: a romantic idiot, full of antiquated notions of honor and bravery. He'd always been the more idealistic of the two Jones brothers.
Not for the first time, Regina wondered how different things might be now if she had let Liam live and made an example of young Killian instead. The little brother she had discounted as innocent and meek, unlikely to cause her trouble, had proven himself just the opposite — an untapped font of rage and determination. He'd be no less formidable in his defense of Emma.
Through the Huntsman's eyes, Regina scanned the frigate bobbing a short distance away. It appeared loosely manned, only a few sailors milling about on deck. They trailed a sea anchor and had their sails tightly reefed.
The Huntsman's plan to board the pirate ship, slit Emma's throat, and blame the pirate stood only a faint chance of success even without any impediments. Accompanied by a ship full of Snow's men intent on keeping their beloved princess safe, he'd be lucky to get within canon distance of the girl, let alone arm's length. Something had to be done.
Regina lowered her lips close to the heart until she could feel the warmth of it across her face.
"Captain," she said into it, able to hear the Huntsman parroting her words. "Prepare the canons, please. Discreetly."
"Do you see the pirate ship, sir?" the captain asked.
"That is not our most immediate concern," Regina replied.
"It's…not? Then what is?"
"The frigate. I want you to sink it."
"But…" The captain's mouth formed a hard line. "They are our allies."
"Not anymore." Unused to defiance, Regina's voice turned venomous. "By orders from the queen, you are to destroy that ship and everyone on it. Is that understood?"
The captain looked as if he might refuse, but the power struggle between the two men had evidently already played itself out, because at the long, unflinching look Regina had the Huntsman deliver, he nodded and quietly passed the order along to his first mate.
That ought to get things back on track.
Satisfied, Regina shot the frigate a farewell grin before depositing the Huntsman's heart back into the drawer. The smell and taste of the sea dissipated as soon as her fingers released it. Whatever happened next, the Huntsman would have to handle on his own. She had better things to do than stand around and guide him through every twist and turn Killian Jones threw his way.
Soon, her own ship was set to arrive.
She had packing to do.
When Killian woke late the next morning, he found Emma sitting at the table in his quarters with her nose buried in one of Liam's books. At his movement, she stole a quick glance at him over the top of the page.
"I was starting to think you'd sleep all day," she said.
Disoriented, he squinted up at the windows above the bed and ran his hand through his hair as he sat up. Emma had apparently been awake for some time — a half-eaten breakfast sat out upon the table.
"I was up late," he said through a yawn.
"Yeah. I noticed that. Still worried about the sirens?"
At the mention of sirens, he felt a renewed rush of astonishment that she'd come to his rescue and a shiver of tenderness over the way she'd wrapped her arms around him after pulling him up out of the pit.
"No. Not worried. I merely wanted to give you some space," he said, trying to sound offhand and casual but failing miserably at suppressing the husky waver in his voice.
Emma closed her book and stood. Growing up royal had given her an excellent poker face — she rarely gave away her thoughts — but he had a knack for reading people, and he'd made a concerted effort at understanding her in particular. As she walked over to him, he sensed turmoil beneath her mask of calm.
"You don't need to avoid me," she said and held out her hands, as if her lingering in his cabin proved as much.
He arched an eyebrow. "Why would I do that?"
"I don't know. Maybe because you think that kiss meant something."
"It did," he replied firmly, eyes locked with hers.
Though, hell if he knew exactly what.
"What would mean something," she said on a sigh, her shoulders squared, "is if you helped me get home to my family."
"I am."
She cocked her head, disbelieving. "You are?"
"I never intended to keep you from your loved ones."
"Just to charge them an exorbitant ransom?"
"My plans for ransom were forgotten long ago." At the way she stared at him, he added, "Does that surprise you?"
"Well…you are a pirate.".
"Aye. That I am." He pushed himself up off the bed so that he stood toe to toe with her. "But I also believe in good form. And, Emma…I am far less interested in your father's money than I am in you."
Her throat worked as she swallowed. "Interested in getting me home, you mean? In using me to thwart Regina's plans?"
"And in winning your trust."
"Captain…" She sighed. "This isn't some kind of game you can play to win—"
"I assure you, darling. This is no game."
Emma let out a slow breath. "You can ask for my trust all you want, but until you prove to me that my faith wouldn't be misplaced, you'll be wasting your breath."
"In that case," he said, motioning for her to follow him with one hand, "I have something to show you."
Wary, despite everything, Emma hesitated, her eyebrows drawn.
"Just some maps, darling," he whispered. "Nothing more. On my honor as a pirate."
She rolled her eyes but cracked a smile. "Well, when you put it that way…"
"I told you I had a plan to get you home," he said as he guided her back over to the table. "Now seems as good a time as any to share it with you."
Her interest caught, Emma allowed him pull out a chair for her, then watched as he strode across the room to retrieve his maps from the bookshelf. He sank down onto the seat next to her and spread the maps out across the table.
"Right now, we're here." He pointed. "And your kingdom is here — four days southwest, as the crow flies."
"I could be home in as a little as four days?"
"Were it not for the queen's forces harassing us. Since we cannot simply sail for the nearest port, we need to make berth somewhere else, somewhere less defended, and send word to your parents from there. This island here—" he indicated a small dot of land on the southernmost edge of Regina's kingdom, "—is a pirate stronghold. A free city under no one's rule. The navy ships could follow us there, but they would be at the mercy of a dozen other pirates galleons if they did."
"So, your plan is to head to this pirate city and then…what? Send a letter?"
"We can send whatever you like with one of the other ships, so long as it will convince your parents that you are alive and well. Once their navy backs off, I will be free to sail you straight home."
Emma mulled this over for a second, her green eyes moving across the map. "What about this? There's a trade route a few leagues east of your island. Why not head there and intercept a merchant ship instead? If it's one from my kingdom, they'll recognize me. And they'll be taken more seriously delivering my message."
"It's riskier," Killian said thoughtfully. "The merchantmen are likely to run when they see us coming. The Jolly Roger has made a name for herself along that route."
She cast him a glance. "Of course she has."
"But if that is the course you would prefer…"
"You're letting me decide?"
He shrugged. "It's your life at stake."
"So you keep telling me," she said, sounding unconvinced. With one more long look at the map, she nodded. "Yes. That's what I think we should do. Head for the trade route. If that doesn't pan out, then we can try the pirates."
He smiled at her. "No need to say the word with such disdain, love. We're winning you over. I can feel it."
As usual, Emma brushed off his flirting with an air of exasperated good humor. She'd make a stunning queen one day, he decided. She'd reign with absolute dignity, strength, and honor. If only he'd been born a hundred leagues farther south and ended up under the rule of Emma's family instead of Regina's. How different things might be now…
A knock at his cabin door disrupted his thoughts.
"Captain?" Smee's muffled voice called out. "Sorry to disturb you…"
Good gods. He hadn't even eaten breakfast yet. "Whatever it is, Mr. Smee, it can wait."
"No. Captain. It can't." After a beat with no response, he added, "It's about the Evil Queen. Trust me. You're both going to want to see this."
Emma glanced up at the door. "We'll be up in a moment!" she announced, her eyes quickly darting back to meet Killian's, eager to see how he would react to her overstepping.
He responded by flashing her an indulgent smile, then getting up to pull on his boots and leather coat before bolting down what remained of Emma's breakfast.
"Ladies first," he said, sweeping an arm toward the ladder.
They climbed out onto the main deck and discovered most of the crew crowded along the port side.
"What's going on?" Killian asked.
Smee pushed a spyglass into his hands. "Have a look for yourself," he said, pointing due east.
The crew parted to make way as he moved to the railing. With a frown, he lifted the spyglass to his eye and surveyed the horizon until he circle of his vision landed upon two ships locked in battle.
Muzzle flashes from canon blasts sparked like fireflies through the haze of smoke. He squinted, trying to make out the ships' flags. A glimmer from the larger ship's figurehead — silver and blue unicorns — confirmed what he already suspected and solidified the sick feeling in his stomach.
The frigate looked like it had been caught unaware. It was taking on water fast, and only returned fire a handful of times while the Evil Queen's corvette lobbed shot after shot at close range into her belly.
Emma tugged at his sleeve. "What is it?"
Eyes cast down, he handed her the spyglass.
Her whole body stiffened when she spotted the ships, the color draining from her face when she recognized her own.
"They're sinking! We have to go help them!"
"There's nothing we can do, love," Killian said with a shake of his head. "We're too far away. By the time we get there, the whole ship will be underwater."
"But there could be survivors."
"Regina's men will not leave any. Even if they did, there would be little we could do to help them while taking fire ourselves."
"We could fight. Us against one other ship — those aren't bad odds."
"What would be the point of such a battle?" he said, reaching out to touch her arm. "It wouldn't bring them back. And I will not risk your life unnecessarily."
She pulled away from him. "That's rich, coming from you."
With a frustrated grumble, she shoved the spyglass back at Smee and stormed across the deck to the starboard side. Even though she'd rebuffed his poor attempt at comfort, Killian followed. She looked stricken, grief and confusion mixing with her anger.
"I don't understand why Regina would do this. They were working together. They were allies."
"Perhaps whatever use she had for your father's navy has been fulfilled," he suggested.
"So now she does away with them?"
"I'd save them if I could," he said, his heart aching for her.
"I'm not blaming you," Emma assured him. "This is on Regina." She steadied herself against the railing, then turned to face him. "She really does have some plot against my family. Doesn't she? Whatever she wanted with me, if this has anything to do with it…"
"You know as much about it as I do. My spies indicated that she planned to abduct you. Nothing more. I had hoped you'd be able to shed some light onto why."
"I've never even met her. I have no idea what she'd want with me."
"She has never had an occasion to visit your kingdom?" he asked, surprised. The two shared a long border. Surely, the two monarchies spoke from time to time.
"Except for when I passed through her land on my way to…" Emma trailed off with an uncomfortable grimace at the reminder of her would-be suitor. "Aside from my most recent trip, I don't think she's ever set foot in our kingdom or vice versa."
"Is there some reason why? Bad blood, perhaps?"
She shrugged. "Ideological differences, I guess. My mother has disliked Regina for as long as I can remember."
Contemplating this, they lingered together on deck, the mood somber. The Jolly Roger maintained a speedy course away from Skull Rock, the specter of the sinking frigate moving along the horizon as they passed parallel to it. Through the spyglass, Killian watched as the embattled ship vanished beneath the waves and the corvette circled the wreckage.
It would be coming for them next. For Emma.
But it would have to catch them first.
He snapped the spyglass shut and called out a course that put them at full sail with the wind at their backs. Ducking under the rigging, he climbed the companionway to the helm. There was nothing he could do about the sunken ship, but he sure as hell could keep their princess safe. If whatever Regina had planned relied on Emma being out of the picture, then he had to bring her back into it. She needed to get home. The sooner, the better.
A deep frown wrinkling the corners of her mouth, Emma crossed the deck below him and, without saying a word, vanished below.
He didn't pursue her, figuring that she'd come to him if she wanted to talk. On such a small ship, solitude could be difficult to come by. If she'd found some and needed it, he didn't want to disrupt it.
Fair weather held all afternoon. The bright sun warmed his back and shoulders. Sea gulls and pelicans appeared to fly alongside the ship as they passed near an archipelago of unpopulated islands.
His eyes traveled time and again to the hatch leading below deck, hoping to see Emma there, but she remained cloistered. Finally, his curiosity bested him and he left the helm to go in search of her.
He found her alone in the galley, aggressively kneading an abused lump of dough. She had her back to the door and her sleeves rolled up, the muscles in her arms and back bunching and relaxing as her hands moved in tandem.
At the sound of his footsteps, she paused and glanced over her shoulder.
"Don't stop on my account, love," he said, his hands held up in supplication.
"Wouldn't think of it," she replied, sounding a little out of breath. With a distracted frown, she dusted her hands off on her pants, then pushed the bowl of dough aside to pick up a knife.
Killian sat against the edge of the table and watched as she fetched an apple out of an open barrel and chopped it in half with a swift downward stroke of the blade.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Getting ready for a fight." She hacked the apple into fourths, then sliced out each section of core with a flick of her wrist.
"I've never known you to need to get ready for a fight," he said, hoping to lighten the mood. "I thought it was a natural state."
Emma sighed. "Well, this isn't just a fight. Is it? It's war. Sinking one of my father's frigates and killing every man on board isn't something he will forgive. It isn't something I will forgive."
Killian stepped up beside her and gently wrapped his fingers around her wrist, steadying the knife she held between them. His angled his body close to hers, then carefully tugged the knife free of her fingers and laid it back down beside the apples. Emma looked up at him through the veil of her eyelashes with an air of irritation.
"Here," he said and handed her his flask of rum.
She raised her eyebrows. "Is rum your solution to everything?"
"It certainly doesn't hurt."
With a shake of her head, she took it from him, uncapped it, and took a long drink.
"I know what it's like to be betrayed by the Evil Queen," he said, remaining close as she slowly licked the last of the rum off her bottom lip.
A tight smile drew her mouth into a straight line. "I know you do." She handed him back the flask. "I was actually thinking…once I get home, Regina's going to have to answer for what she's done. Your goals and mine will be aligned."
"Your point?" he prompted.
Her green eyes met his. "There's no reason you have to avenge Liam all by yourself. You could work with us to the same end and actually be a part of something."
"Are you trying to recruit me?"
She shrugged one shoulder.
"I doubt your father would welcome a pirate into his military," he replied dryly and took his own sip of rum before returning the flask to his belt. "In any event, I have no desire to return to life as an officer."
"How is it any different than the life you're leading now?"
"Being your own boss has its rewards." He smirked at her. "As does being a pirate. Beautiful captives, for one."
"Are you saying I'm not your first?" she asked, the sassiness in her voice a welcome change.
"I'm not saying anything. But you're most certainly my favorite, darling." He winked.
There. At last. A genuine smile.
"I guess I owe you an apology for all the times I didn't believe you about Regina. And a thank you for…" She trailed off and rolled her eyes dramatically, humor lightening her voice. "For saving me."
Killian inclined his head toward hers in a mock bow. "I am more than willing to receive your thanks at any time, my lady. But no need for apologies. You didn't understand the woman's treachery."
At that, he saw Emma's thoughts set to churning. She seemed to contemplate for some time whether to actually say what was on her mind before clearing her throat.
"I know it must be hard to talk about," she began, her voice low, her hand coming up to brush his arm. "But…what exactly happened to Liam?"
Killian froze. Since Liam died, he'd never talked about it with anyone. All of the men on his ship knew more-or-less what had happened and understood not to bring it up. Until now, no one else had gotten close enough to ask — none of the women he'd been with since had even known of Liam's existence. It wasn't something he knew how to discuss. But as he looked down at Emma, he realized suddenly that he wanted to. He wanted her to understand.
"Regina killed him," he said quietly.
Emma leaned in a fraction closer to him. "Why?"
"She sent us on a mission," he began, recalling the day years before when Liam had arrived on board the Jewel of the Realm with orders fresh from the queen. "We were to go to a place not of this realm — a place called Neverland — and retrieve a plant purported to cure any ill."
"Dreamshade?" Emma guessed.
Surprised, he flinched away from her. "How did you know?"
"I found a drawing of it in your coat pocket on my first day here."
Ah. Right. Back when she'd been hell-bent on destroying him and escaping his ship. Gods, that felt like forever ago.
"Aye. It was dreamshade."
"Did you find it?"
He nodded. "But it was not what she claimed."
"Not medicine."
"Far from it. Dreamshade is poison. Even the smallest drop will kill. Three of our men became sick and died while collecting it." His mind's eye was so deep in the past, recalling the way black lines of poison had raced across the men's bodies to their hearts — the way they had sweated and shuddered and called out in delirium as they died — that he barely saw the sympathetic expression on Emma's face. "We knew she couldn't possibly have an honorable use for such a thing, so we left all of it on the island, then burned the pegasus sail that had allowed us to travel there when we returned."
He'd felt so self-righteous watching that sail go up in flames, feathers coming loose to plunge like falling stars into the ocean. In his youth and naiveté, he'd had no idea the wrath that awaited them. But Liam must have known. He'd implored Killian to remain quiet during their conference with the queen.
"When we reported back to the queen what we had done, I thought perhaps she might demote us. Take away Liam's command," he continued. Instead, she had shot across the room, her dress swirling around her like a thundercloud. His voice hitched as he continued. "She didn't say anything. Just walked over to Liam, ripped out his heart, and crushed it."
Emma gasped.
After Liam had collapsed on the floor, his heart turned to dust in the queen's palm, Regina had offhandedly promoted Killian to captain before sweeping from the room, believing she had made her point.
Tears streaking his cheeks, Killian had carried his brother's body all the way back to the Jewel of the Realm, able to feel Liam growing cooler all the way. They'd sailed out to sea to bury him, and Killian rallied the men that very afternoon, declaring that they would no longer take orders from the queen and would forevermore sail as lawless pirates, hell-bent on revenge.
Emma swallowed hard and grasped his hand, her fingers interlocking with his. "What she did to you is unforgivable. She'll answer for it. I swear."
Feeling utterly naked and exposed, Killian turned his face away from her and dropped her hand. "Aye. That she will. Listen…I have duties to tend to. You should come up on deck. You're missing a lovely day."
"I'm happy right here," Emma said, the tone of her voice making him look at her again. The expression on her face knocked the wind out of him — her mouth turned down with sadness, but her eyes on fire with something soft and passionate that he didn't feel comfortable putting a name to.
Her eyelashes fluttered and her body swayed toward his, caught in a magnetic pull neither one of them could resist. Before he knew what she was about, she closed her eyes and brushed her lips gently across his.
Unlike their first kiss, this one seemed almost innocent and naive in its care.
He didn't pull away or respond at first, not sure if this was an effort at comforting him or something more. Her fingers traced a delicate line up the front of his chest to his shoulders and she broke with his lips long enough to let out a long breath against them.
"I thought there wasn't going to be anymore kissing," he couldn't help saying.
Her forehead bumped against his. "I'm making the choice to trust you."
"Good," he murmured, right before her mouth closed over his once more. Her nails bit into his shoulders as she hauled herself up against him.
In the relative privacy of the empty galley, he didn't need to hold back.
His right hand slipped down to rest in the small of her back while his left cupped the side of her face. Her jaw trembled under his palm as he kissed her long and hard, pausing only for short gasps. He didn't dare ask for anything more — enjoying each warm press her of her lips, each puff of breath on his cheek, and the easy slotting of her body against his — until the tip of her tongue darted out to slide across his bottom lip.
Heat coiled low in his stomach, the tightness forcing out a low groan.
One of Emma's hands gripped the hair at the back of his head, and he lost all train of conscious thought as she pulled him deeper — her tongue moving against his; his teeth scraping and nipping at her lips. His fingers curled against her back, urging her closer, unable to get enough contact even as the world blurred away.
He broke with her mouth to press kisses along her cheek.
Emma tilted her head and moaned when he bit her earlobe.
The way she shuddered and melted into him set him on fire. He nibbled, licked, and sucked a path down her neck, unaware that they were moving until Emma backed into the galley table. Her hand shot out to catch herself, knocking something to the floor with a noisy clatter.
He couldn't have cared less what.
Half-sitting now with his body snuggled between her knees, she fisted a hand in his collar and used her leverage to haul him back up to her mouth.
He obliged, kissing her soundly, convinced that he had never really kissed a woman until this moment because, by the gods, it had never rocked him like this before. The press of her knee rising up the outside of his leg made him see white. And…bloody hell. Had that ragged groan come from him?
The sound, a clear indication things had gotten out of hand, made him draw back. His leather coat creaked as he shifted his weight.
Emma followed him but slowed down, pressing gentle kisses to the sides of his mouth, the tips of her fingers brushing over the stubble on his cheek. Eyes closed, his heart singing, Killian ran his fingers through her hair while their lips continued to seek out soft, tender kisses. Emma's knee, which had snuck all the way up to his thigh, slid gently back down until her foot thumped against the floor.
When he finally paused and opened his eyes, Emma looked back at him unabashed.
He'd half expected the kiss to throw her into demure princess mode. Instead, she wore the openly passionate expression of a not-wholly-satisfied woman.
"So, you have duties to tend to?" she said, pushing him back a step as she eased herself off the table.
"Aye," was all he could rasp out.
She smiled. "Then I should let you get back to them."
Dazed — much more so than her, it seemed — he watched as she stepped around him and scooped up the apple slices. Her back to him, she bit into one. It gave them both a moment in which to collect themselves.
Even as the buzz of arousal faded, an unbearably tight feeling remained in Killian's heart.
It hit him.
Somehow — in between battling sea serpents and almost getting eaten alive by sirens — he'd fallen for her.
He ran a hand through his hair, dismayed.
Nothing good could come of this, he thought. Even if Emma wanted more, they could never be together. Could they? She had a kingdom to return to and people who depended on her. He had a dead brother to avenge — a quest he'd likely not survive.
It hadn't bothered him until now.
He looked over at Emma — beautiful, noble, true, the most amazing woman he'd ever met — and realized that he had a lot to live for. A lot to hope for. Even if it went against all odds. He didn't want to perish at Regina's hand. He wanted more, a future beyond his quest. He wanted to be part of something. With her.
"I think I'd like to enjoy some time in the sun after all," Emma said, offering him her hand.
Breathless, he motioned for her to go ahead of him.
"I'll be along in a moment."
She sent him a knowing look before nodding and heading out of the galley. But she didn't know — she couldn't — that for the first time in his life, he was head over heels in love.
From her balcony, Regina could see the red and gold flag on the warship docked in her harbor. It had arrived exactly as expected, and she'd had her palace guards there to meet it. She waited now for them to return, pacing slowly as the mystical face in her mirror watched.
"Why are you worried, your highness?" he asked.
She shot the mirror a withering glance. "I'm not."
He didn't look convinced. "It has been many years since you last saw your sister, are you certain that—"
"Snow White is not my sister," she growled.
Frowning, the mirror quieted.
Regina had known him once as a man, back when her mother had first taken the throne. He'd been one of the palace servants and fancied himself in love with the queen's fresh-faced daughter. Regina hadn't returned his feelings but had often found them useful to manipulate. She'd led him on for years, leveraging his love for her whenever she needed information or something done she didn't want to risk on her own.
When Regina finally worked up the ambition to overthrow her mother, he had been the one at her side helping to orchestrate the coup. With a spell acquired from the Dark One, she'd pushed Cora straight through the mirror, banishing her to another realm. And then she'd cursed her partner in crime to its confines — ensuring that he would neither turn on her nor reveal her secret.
Why she kept him around after that, she wasn't certain. She could have broken the mirror ages ago and put him out of his misery. Maybe it was that he didn't actually seem miserable. The love-sick fool enjoyed playing her confidant just as much from within his mirrored prison as he had from within the castle walls. And, as much as she hated to admit it, she liked having someone to talk freely to. Not to mention someone who continued to tout her unparalleled beauty even as she aged.
A knock on the door to her chambers interrupted her pacing. Quickly, she straightened her skirts, raised her chin a notch, and commanded the men on the other side to enter.
A group of four guards, their faces obscured by black masks and helmets, walked in hauling along a middled-aged man dressed in one of Snow's naval uniforms.
"Captain." Regina smirked. "I've been looking forward to meeting you."
"What do you want with me, witch?" he demanded, his face ruddy.
"It's a rather long list. To start…I'd like your heart."
The guards gripped the captain hard by the arms, the four of them able to hold him no matter how hard he struggled.
Fingers flexing, Regina channeled her dark magic into the palm of her hand, then plunged it deep into his chest, wringing a cry loose from his lips. His heart pulsed with pain and fear as she grasped it, hand closing tight around the powerful ball of his life's energy. Sinew snapped as she twisted it free, severing the organ's ties to his body, and wrenched it out between his ribs. It throbbed hot and heavy in her palm, a wave of sensation and memory washing over her as the man slumped to his knees.
In a flash, she saw the moment when her ship had turned on his, launching a surprise attack. Her sailors had boarded during the night and slaughtered every man aboard, leaving only the captain alive. For the rest of the journey, he had been tossed into the brig, kept there without contact or sunlight or more than a piddling amount of food and water until arriving this morning in the busy main port of Regina's kingdom.
Eyebrows drawn in concentration, Regina dug deeper into his mind, searching…seeking.
A smile lit her face.
Yes. Perfect.
He was familiar with the princess, had spent time in her company and had seen her recently — right before she'd left on her journey to meet with the Dark One's son.
"This will do nicely," she told the captain. "Thank you."
With a purple poof of magic, she transformed herself. When the cloud settled, the spell complete, she glanced at herself in the mirror, checking her work. Although Regina had never met Emma, the face that stared back struck her as familiar — blonde hair, green eyes, beautiful like her mother, but with the stronger features of her father.
The ship captain's jaw gaped open wide as he regarded her.
"You're…"
"More powerful than you ever dreamed," Regina finished for him, the voice she spoke with not her own. She still held the man's heart in her hand, which she now rose to her lips. "And I'm not done with you yet, captain. I want you to take me back to your ship. You fought the pirate and won, saved your beloved princess. Now you need to take her home."
His eyes glazed over as the orders processed. When he blinked, the expression on his face shifted from horror to joy.
"Princess Emma!" He barked out a relieved laugh. "You're safe. Thank the gods. The king and queen have been worried sick."
With a nod from Regina, the guards let the man go.
"Well then, we should get going." She approached the man and offered her arm. "I can't wait to see my mother and father again."
