A/N: Aight. This is the last chapter before it all falls to shit.

Then its all about climbing back up, and that, my friends, is going to be the really fun part. Because I'll be a lot more invested since I've got a week off Uni.

Speculations are whirling between you guys concerning whether the evil is Regina, and whether all this sex is going to land Emma pregnant.

I am not giving away anything.

Enjoy! xx

Chapter Ten: Feels a Lot Like Sorrow

"You are leaving already, Lady Bell?" Bae was following her quick footsteps with a furrowed brow. "I thought we still had a few days…"

"Something's come up, Bae," Tink answered, spinning around as she clasped her cloak around her shoulders. "I'm sorry," she answered genuinely, a little sadness in her eyes. "I was looking forward to the next couple of days. Perhaps meeting your older brother again."

"Me too," he said a little sadly. "I'll give Graham your regards."

"I'll see you soon," Tink promised, surprising herself when she put out her hand on his forearm familiarly. "It's only a day's ride from here to Anselor."

"Perhaps I will, then," Bae answered, a sparkle in his warm brown eyes. "Safe journey, Tink."

"Hehe," Tink laughed as she walked out of the castle calling back, "Not at the speed that I ride!"

"What's wrong, Emma," Killian asked, as he did every night when she rolled away from him.

"Nothing," she answered.

He crawled over to her, wrapping his arm loosely around her waist and trying to get her to bend into him. She simply wriggled out and threw off the blankets, searching for her nightgown.

"You can stay if you want," she said, "I'm just cold."

"Hence why I was offering you my services as a heat pack," Killian frowned, leaning back against the pillows. "Did I do something to offend you Princess?"

"No," she answered, before pulling a blanket out of her chest and adding another log to her fire. She crawled back into bed, quite far away from him. After twenty minutes of silence, Killian got up and dressed himself, leaving quickly.

Emma couldn't fall asleep as she usually did. She stared everywhere, trying to find something to latch onto that didn't make her think of him. She should stop it. It was probably the safest thing for her. They should stop doing this before it went too far.

Hasn't it already gone too far?

Emma jumped out of bed and began to pace past her fire, trying to clear her head. It didn't work though, and eventually, she simply grabbed a pillow off her bed and sat down on her rug, falling asleep as she leant up against her chaise, staring into the fire.

That was how Ruby found her the next morning. Bringing in her breakfast on a tray, she didn't even bother to say anything, simply sinking down beside her friend and wrapping her arms around her.

"I love you Ems," Ruby tried to comfort her.

But it wasn't Ruby's love that she craved.

Queen Snow brought up the crowning ceremony.

Emma lost it.

She yelled and she raged and her parents were astonished that they had brought such a reaction about in her. Because it wasn't passion that echoed in her eyes, it was fear. Princess Emma was scared.

Because she didn't want it.

She didn't want a party – because that meant that she was turning eighteen. That people would want to marry her, that she'd have to start making decisions in court that affected the entirety of Anselor.

She didn't want a coronation – it was common knowledge that she was the Crown Princess. Why on earth did she need to say some bullshit lines about fealty to make the title official?

Because it would be official, she reminded herself. And then there'd be no escaping it.

And most importantly – she didn't want to love Killian Jones.

She didn't want to love his smirk and his inappropriateness. She didn't want to love the way he could be a perfect gentlemen sometimes and the sexiest of lovers at other times. She didn't want to love the way he smiled or the way he could hold her and make her feel as though she was the only person he could ever love.

Because the truth of the matter was, that he didn't love her.

And that was good. Because it made her try and see sense. It made Emma try and see why they couldn't keep finding each other in bed night after night.

But that didn't mean that her heart agreed.

And when she found herself in Killian's room that night, going to him before he could come to her, she had every intention of telling him it was over.

Emma thought she'd cried every tear she could possibly have cried. But she was wrong. Because the moment she saw his face, they came back to her eyes. But she refused to move towards him.

"You know what it's like, Killian," Emma murmured, looking up at him through tear-stained eyes. "You know what it's like to live with this hanging over your head."

"I do, Princess."

"Make it go away?" she pleaded, searching out his blue eyes. She knew it couldn't last. That he could only distract her for tonight before she told him he couldn't anymore. One last time, she begged with her eyes. Please.

"It never goes away, Princess," Killian whispered, delicately tracing her face as he came closer. "No matter how hard we try."

He wondered when this had happened, why he suddenly felt the need to hold her as she cried in a purely caring manner. But it didn't feel wrong, so he did. He sank down on his pillows, and she sat by him, her arms wrapped loosely around his waist.

And when he finally took her, it was slow and tender, brushing away the tears that fell from her eyes. It couldn't have just been those words that triggered her depression. She'd known since she was born that she would someday rule. Something else plagued her mind, something deeper.

But he couldn't find what it was.

And so he kissed her, and cherished her, dare he say it, he may have even loved her as he leant down to caress her skin with feather-light touches. But he knew as well as she did, that the touches they gave each other would only ever be what they were.

Touch.

So he entered her slowly, allowing her to feel every part of him, her hands grasping at his waist and pressing into his muscles as she pushed herself against him with a desperation that seemed familiar. A desperation to get lost in him.

"Killian," she whispered, moaning lowly. "Killian." She kept repeating it like a prayer as he placed delicate kisses down her throat, groaning as she sped up her movements. "Please."

And they raced towards their climaxes together. Speeding towards the edge as if they could never get there fast enough. And for some reason, Emma didn't want to go over. She didn't want this to end.

But it did. It ended in ecstasy. In that brief moment, she could pretend.

And that night, she allowed him to hold her as she fell asleep, and he breathed her in deeply. The very essence of Emma.

But Emma couldn't stay.

She woke up around three in the morning, darkness still claiming his room. She pulled away from where her head was using his chest as a pillow, and glanced tenderly at him, sorrow tinting the edges of her vision.

"I would wake up in your arms if I could, Killian," Emma whispered, placing a kiss on his forehead before pulling herself away from him, into her clothes, and out of the door.

Little did she know, that was the last she would see of him for a very long time.

When Killian awoke in his lonely bed the next morning, it was to find someone else in his doorway.

"Killian," Tink said from the doorway. He looked up with a smile on his face, excited to see his best friend. But the moment he saw the harsh lines of Tinkerbell's somber face, his smile disappeared. "You have to go home."

His brow furrowed. "Unless my father admits to murdering Mil –"

"Killian, your father is dead," Tink explained, seeing the brief surprise that flashed over his face before it fell.

He fell.

His hope; his soul…crushed.

And when he spoke, it was without emotion or conviction or anything good she'd seen growing in him over the past few weeks.

"I guess that makes me king, then."