Here we go, back again with another chewy chunk of a chapter.

Characters blah blah, Kitsis/Horowitz sigh, let's play!


Killian's recovery was happening at an annoyingly slow pace. He didn't begrudge Emma for not using her magic to speed things along. While he had agreed to keep her secret it meant letting his shoulder and arm wounds heal naturally and acting as though he had one in the stomach as well. To keep up their farce he had remained in Emma's quarters for a few days, actually recovering from his injuries, before moving into Pinocchio's. It served the purpose of keeping people from becoming suspicious and allowing him a modicum of privacy he hadn't enjoyed since he had left the Jewel.

A week into being confined to the cabin had him pacing like a wild animal in a cage. He'd once seen a chimera on display in a fellow royal's menagerie and had been taken aback by what he thought to be frustrated rage in the beast's sets of eyes. More than once he'd had to remind himself that he could control his own frustration and couldn't just burst out of his confines as the chimera had done mere days after he had seen it. Thompson tried his best to keep him entertained but he had duties to perform and when he visited Killian had to remain in his bunk.

It had been a vicious fight between him, Emma, and Pinocchio about keeping Thompson in the dark about the Emma's magic. He had refused to speak to either of them after they, in turn, refused to listen to his entreaties. Red had been the one to calm both sides and explain to him that aside from Emma's parents and the Blue Fairy they were the only three souls that knew that Emma had magic. She didn't deny Killian's accusations that the other two still didn't like Thompson but he had let the issue drop, and kept up pretenses when Thompson was around. It had been exhausting to recover from his injuries and keep up a front of indignation.

After another week he had been given permission by Pinocchio, who had taken over the position of ship's physician, to leave his cabin and be allowed to move about the ship for short periods of time. Up until that point he had only been on deck once, for Doc and the deckhands' interment at sea and he had been eager for the wind and sea air to clear him of the vestiges of that memory. Pinocchio had to force him to return to below deck after an hour or two with threats every time he appeared above board, a set routine that neither one of them enjoyed.

Despite the confinement and his desire to shed the bandages to return to full duty the appeal of spending time with Emma was almost worth it. She had still used her quarters during the day when he had been there, not talking at first because of their fight but then slowly engaging in small conversations about the running of the ship or the slight changes in course she'd had to make. When he moved to Pinocchio's quarters she'd stop by at least once during the day, mostly to tease him about how nice the weather was on deck but sometimes she would linger and he relished every moment she did.

It was in his third week of recovery and he had finally been given light duties despite Pinocchio's protests. His left arm needed to be kept tightly strapped to his side so that he didn't aggravate and disrupt the healing of his shoulder. Even with the limits to his mobility he was far happier than he'd been at any point below deck. Emma had mostly relegated him to navigation and charting their course, appeasing both his complaints about idleness and Pinocchio's warnings of overwork. They were quickly approaching the fjords of Arendelle and he alone knew what routes would keep them out of harm's way yet allow them to approach Queen Elsa's castle without adding extra days or even weeks to their travels.

As for his feelings for Emma Killian had all but pushed them aside. He wasn't ignoring them, something that all encompassing and life altering could not be ignored, but he was not in a place or a frame of mind to act upon them. There was a time where he would have and did, when he was young and naive in the ways of the heart. The romance had turned out to mean nothing more to the girl than the hopes of raising the social status of her and her family. Thompson had been the one to break through his love addled senses with the harsh truth. From that point on Killian had refused to allow his romantic notions to overshadow his more logical sensibilities. It had worked well for him in the past and he planned to continue to do so with what he was feeling for Emma.

It helped that she continued to address him by his alias or merely sailor, even when they were alone. She hadn't called him by his given name since the night after she had healed him. He had followed her lead.

"Why Swan?" Killian asked.

They were in Emma's quarters going over the finer details of how they'd approach Queen Elsa's castle. The crimson flag they had flown had been lowered and stowed away not long after their run in with Blackbeard. There were no other flags flying in it's place, they reasoned they'd actually get a chance to explain the missing colors than risk being blown out of the water by Queen Elsa's navy.

"Hmm?" Emma responded absently as she wrote in her log.

"Swan, it's not exactly a common name. Unless of course you always intended to become a notorious pirate who inspired awe with her grace and sometimes a touch of fear from her ferocity," Killian smirked when she looked up at him to roll her eyes, causing her to laugh instead.

"No, this kind of just happened," she said, gesturing at the ship around her. "I hated going to the docks when I was little but my dad dragged me along to 'better appreciate' what our people did to serve us. After we escaped we tried hiding out in villages and the forest but Regina knew that tactic from when she tried to kill my mother the first time. The seas ended up being the only way to escape and our only refuge."

Emma looked out the windows, seemingly lost in her memories.

"And becoming a pirate just happened too?" Killian prodded.

"Yeah," she sighed, looking back at him. "My mom was a bandit when she was on the run. Robbing from Regina's carriages and other less than savoury royals for their money and jewels. Figured I'd follow in her footsteps."

"If her being a bandit had anything to do with her rule as Queen I'd say you've chosen a worthy, if not quite upstanding, vocation, love. However, that still doesn't answer my question," he grimaced as he adjusted his position across from her, his shoulder protesting dully at the movement. "Why Swan?"

She huffed out a laugh, a small wistful smile playing at her lips. It dropped to a frown as he kept trying to find a comfortable way to sit in the chair without aggravating his wounds. The arms of the chair was just a bit too high to rest his arm on and they were placed just close enough together that he would have to wedge himself in to sit properly. He scooted forward with a scowl and twirled his hand at her, hoping she would get the idea and distract him with her story.

"Need a hand, Jones?" She asked her lips twitching with mirth.

"Very funny, love, quite humorous," he grumbled. "What I need we've already dismissed so I won't bother asking."

Rolling her eyes at him he watched as she settled back in her own chair and a grin made an appearance. He'd made it a point to bring up the fact that she could heal him with magic as often as possible. It helped him deal with the frustration of the circumstances while letting her know that her possessing magic didn't bother him. She hadn't been amused at first but her open smile and dancing eyes let him know that he'd made definite progress.

"Funny you should bring that up," she mused, her smile softening. He looked at her quizzically and she laughed, "My magic is kind of the reason I go by Swan. My dad called me his little Swan Princess before… well, before all of this. My mom didn't find the nickname as amusing as he did."

"I'm sensing this will be a thrilling tale," he said with a raised eyebrow.

"So thrilling," she rolled her eyes but her smile only grew. "I was six, maybe seven, at the time. I'm not exactly sure what's my memories or what I'm just repeating because I've heard the story so much but I remember that Granny had taken me out to the garden. I think it was spring or maybe early summer but it was warm when we went outside. There was a pond, not very big but enough for some ducks and fish to swim around in."

"Let me guess, a swan had made its home there as well?"

"Is this my story or not?" Emma narrowed her eyes at him. The effect was ruined by the playfulness he saw in them. "The swan had always been there, actually. I remember being scared of her and not wanting to go to the pond to feed the ducks if she was anywhere close to them. She was so big and when she opened her wings I thought she'd pick me up and fly me away or just knock me down and never let me up."

"Sounds quite savage for a water fowl," Killian said trying to contain his laughter. "I'm amazed you survived."

"Ha ha. What, you didn't have swans at your castle? Let me guess, instead of gardens you had grottos and terns and herons in place of ducks and geese?"

She laughed at her own joke and he marvelled at the sound. It was free of cynicism or self deprecation and it sounded clear and pure as a bell for it. He chuckled himself.

"Not quite. Our castle isn't at the shore, makes it too susceptible to attack from the sea and vulnerable from land as well. We can, however see much of the coastline from most windows and turrets. There are no ponds or streams in our gardens but plenty of birds make it their home without them. The peacocks were a particular favorite of my mother's, bloody idiot preeners if you ask me."

Emma laughed again, "My grandfather had peacocks too. They probably scared me more than the swan but then again so did he."

A troubled look crossed her face. Killian knew of her grandfather, King George, only through reading about Misthaven's history and the stories he'd heard about him during his travels. The man was reportedly merciless and unforgiving especially where Prince James was concerned but had come to a shaky alliance with Queen Snow once she regained her throne from the Queen. He had read rumors that King George had only agreed to the alliance once Emma was born. Killian couldn't imagine a father being so vindictive against his only son that an alliance that should have been formed through marriage was only brought about by producing an heir to both kingdoms.

"All show, they are love. Unlike swans I gather," he teased gently.

"You're not wrong," her smile returned, which was his goal. "Anyway, when Granny took me out that time I didn't know that the swan had had babies-"

"Cygnets."

"Whatever. I'd never seen the male, although I guess I could say I'd never seen the two swans together since I would run from the pond if I saw only one of them. They were so cute, bigger than ducklings and all grey, I remember there were five of them out in the pond swimming around their mother. It was the first time I didn't want to leave when I saw her. I didn't want to leave at all actually. According to everyone but me I threw a tantrum when Granny tried to take me back to the castle for supper."

"Naturally."

Emma threw him a look at his comment but he could tell she was truly enjoying herself. She was smiling widely, her eyes soft and glittering with her memories.

"I do know I was sent to my nursery without supper and a warning that I'd be getting a lecture from my mom about how a princess should behave. They had Pinocchio and his dad, Geppetto, stay with me since Pinocchio was probably the only one I'd be nice to at the time. I was telling them all about the 'cygnets' when it happened."

"Swan, you didn't!"

Killian couldn't decide if he was more amused or horrified, not because of her magic but because of what he had guessed had happened. Upon seeing his face Emma started laughing and couldn't seem to stop even as she continued her story.

"I didn't- didn't mean t-to! I jus-just wanted Pino-huh-occhio to see-hee them too!" She snorted inelegantly and started laughing harder. "Only- pfft- only I didn't bri-bring the babies. I brought the MOM!"

She could barely finish the sentence, collapsing into peals of laughter. Killian found himself laughing with her. The story was highly amusing but her reaction to it, the pure joy she was exuding was infectious. Their laughter rang out in the cabin, loud and carefree, and for the first time Killian felt lighter, less burdened, and more at ease than he had in far too long.

Finally, after several minutes of mirth their laughter tapered off into chuckles and hiccups as they tried to catch their breath.

"Who was more surprised, you, Geppetto, or the swan?" Killian asked once he was sure he could get the question out without breaking into laughter once more.

"I'm not sure," Emma said as she wiped tears from her eyes. "It took three guards and a heavy drape to get the swan under control and back out to the garden. I had to use the library as my nursery for a week or so while they fixed everything that the swan and guards had broken trying to get her back to the pond.

"So I ended up getting a lecture about proper behavior and a hasty lesson about magic. After that my dad called me the Swan Princess. Actually that's the last thing he said to me."

All the joy dropped from her face and Killian watched as her lower lip wobbled slightly.

"What's that, love?" He asked quietly.

"He, uh, before he went off to fight Regina's men he kissed my forehead and said 'Be strong and no matter what happens your mother and I love you, my little Swan Princess,'" Emma took in a shuddering breath and cleared her throat. "It seemed the perfect moniker for a pirate captain."

He could feel her melancholy start to descend. The result of which he knew she would either close herself off from her emotions and him or merely dismiss him from her quarters entirely. Pushing his own feelings for her aside he couldn't allow her to continue to hide behind her walls, it would do her no favor in the end.

"Was this the first time you discovered you had magic then?"

"Um, not exactly, no," she said slowly, face screwing up in concentration. "That was the first time I had done anything that dramatic but I remember lighting candles when I was afraid of the dark or a sweet bun appearing on my plate when I couldn't reach it on the table."

"And you were placed under the fairy Blue's tutelage?"

Killian remembered her mentioning it but it was lost in the memory of the pain he'd been in at the time. He had never seen a fairy. They were mostly protectors of the denizens of Misthaven and to him were nothing more than fanciful stories told to children. He was fascinated that Emma had not only met one but that she'd had personal dealings with them. It was as though learning that Emma had magic opened up a well spring of curiosity in him to discover all he could about how it was used for good. Between the Queen and the tales told of the Dark One he found his knowledge of magic was woefully one sided.

"Not right away. She'd check in on me whenever there was a meeting of my mom's council, which wasn't very often and tell me to be careful but not much else. It wasn't until I turned twelve that she would come to the castle once a week and I began learning to control my magic," Emma flicked her wrist and every wick in the cabin was instantaneously lit. "Took me three months to get that little trick right with just one candle."

"Impressive, love," Killian grinned at the display, his smile widening when the flames all snuffed out with another twist of her hand. "Quite a show."

"That's all that stuff is good for," she said with a shrug. "I could make objects disappear from one side of a room and appear on the other or change the color of my dress if I wanted and sometimes I could heal the scratches and cuts that Pinocchio and I would get when we snuck out of the castle but what's the use of all that when your dad is fighting off dark knights and Regina is using her magic to imprison your mom? All I had been taught were useless parlour tricks and my parents, my kingdom, has suffered for it."

Emma pushed back from her desk in a rage. He knew her frustration was not with him but he felt it directed as such as she paced the length of her cabin, refusing to look at him.

"The Queen has years of experience on you, Swan. I doubt anyone other than the Dark One himself would have been able to stop her, if he had been so inclined. You are guilty of nothing that has happened because of the Queen's doings, with or without your magic," he grabbed her wrist as she passed by him squeezing it gently. "Your magic has kept your crew from harm, Blackbeard's assault aside, and it saved my life. I don't believe for a moment that you are capable of nothing more than mere parlour tricks."

A knock sounded at the door before she could respond but Killian thought he saw a flash of gratitude at what he'd said in her eyes.

"Yes?" She called out as she slipped her arm from his grip.

"I thought we'd go over the supply levels, oh hello Killian, if you have an estimation on when we'll be arriving in Arendelle," Red said as she bustled into the cabin, her arms laden with sheets of parchment.

Killian jumped up from his seat and offered it to her with a grimace. His shoulder was beginning to ache fiercely and the sudden movement hadn't helped.

"Take it Red," he insisted when she paused. "I'm due on deck as it is and I'd like to see if Pinocchio has found the willow bark for tea yet. To answer your question we should arrive in Arendelle within the week, weather permitting."

"You don't need to go now, Jones," Emma said softly.

"Alas, I do," he said in return, careful to keep his surprise at her reluctance to let him go out of his voice. "I may not be on active watch duty but I need to inform Thompson and Grumpy to keep a weathered eye out for Arendelle patrols. The closer we get the more likely we'll come across one and we shouldn't be caught unaware as we were with Blackbeard. Ladies."

He gave them a small bow and left the cabin, closing the door behind him. As he made his way to Pinocchio's temporary quarters he found himself silently thanking whatever providence that made Red decide to interrupt them when she did. Seeing Emma so open and unguarded had caught him unawares. Killian wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't have blurted out his true feeling for her, or worse, pulled her into his lap and kissed her senseless. Truly, Red had fantastic timing.

His relief was compounded by Pinocchio giving him the willow bark for tea, enough that it would last him a few days, and the good news that he could dispense with the wrappings keeping his arm at his side. Pinocchio frowned at the vigor that he'd pulled the bandages off, nearly ripping them in his haste, but he hadn't cared. Any kind of freedom he was allotted was welcome, even as his unused muscles protested at his careful movements once the bandages were gone. With a word of thanks and a promise to not overwork himself he left.

In his elation he found himself torn as to whom to share the good news with first. Killian immediately wanted to return to Emma's quarters and show her that he was a whole man once again. Not someone to be coddled or set aside for fear that he might break. Then he felt guilty for his unfair thoughts. Emma had never treated him as lesser because of his injuries, it was all his own insecurities and judgements that he saw reflected back at him by how he thought she must see him.

Thompson was an equally tempting choice to celebrate with but Killian would have to watch himself with him still. He was free to move his arm as much as he was able but he'd have to put on the act that his stomach wound was still on the mend. A wave of bitterness rose up in him that even his joy was tempered by complications. With a scowl he headed towards the galley instead, the throbbing in his shoulder and arm making the decision for him.

The tea had barely cooled before Thompson found him sulking in front of it.

"I don't know what the tea leaves said but I will challenge it to a duel restore your honor," Thompson said seriously before laughing and sitting across from him. "Pinocchio gave me the good news. Well, more like boasted that he'd finally be able to move back to his quarters now that you're 'as good as can be expected.' One day I'm going to punch him square on the jaw and I won't even pretend to be sorry about it."

Killian huffed out a laugh, "Do you think the extra duties or a stay in the brig would be worth it?"

"Maybe a good jab to the nose then, I'd want to earn my punishment with a show of blood."

He had made the mistake of taking his first sip of tea at that moment and nearly snorted it up his nose. Killian wasn't sure where the good humor that was affecting everyone was coming from but he enjoyed it. Thompson's laughter at him sputtering in his tea was loud and unchecked causing Killian to laugh even harder. Soon he was wiping tears from his eyes with the heel of his hand, much like Emma had done earlier.

"Oh, no. I know that look," Thompson said suddenly sobering.

"What look?" Killian said, puzzled and still chuckling as he remembered his laughing fit from before.

"That one, the one that makes you look all moony eyed and..." Thompson narrowed his eyes, studying him. "Oh, bloody hell, you've gone and done it haven't you?"

"I haven't done a thing aside from nearly wasting all of my tea."

Killian tested his arm by reaching behind him for a rag to mop up the tea that had splashed out of the cup. It was stiff and he groaned quietly as he stretched his shoulder out. Turning back with the rag in hand he was slightly annoyed by how much of the tea he had spilled and hoped the half filled cup was enough to help with the pain.

"You should have just slept with her and been done with it. Liam was a bloody fool to tell you to keep it in your pants," Thompson muttered.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Killian busied himself with cleaning the mess, avoiding Thompson's eyes and hoping the conversation wasn't going where he thought it might.

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about," Thompson hissed. "You've gone and fallen for Swan haven't you?"

Looking up sharply Killian found Thompson staring hard at him. There was no anger in his gaze but he could feel the judgement and wariness in it. He knew exactly why Thompson was looking at him that way.

"Tommy, it's not like that."

"Really? Because the last time you said that I ended up having to chase you down in Camelot while hoping your father didn't see fit to send me to the stocks for letting you out of my sight. Liam still hasn't forgiven me," Thompson looked around and lowered his voice further. "I know she's a gorgeous lass and full of spirit but Kil, we've been down this road before. You have been down this road before."

"You think I've forgotten? How could I when my reputation stems from it? Quite a burden to carry when my only crime was to fall in love," Killian snapped.

It had been the year he'd graduated from the Academy, fresh faced and believing he knew exactly how the world worked. He had been treated as every other cadet had been: that he was nothing special unless he earned the respect and honor through his training and actions. It was exactly what he'd wanted after the endless tutors drilling protocol and etiquette into him by his tutors and nurse maids. The freedom that had come with his final years had been more than welcome as well.

He'd prided himself on his by the book disposition on campus but the second he and Thompson stepped foot outside the Academy's walls all bets were off. They had cheated countless drunks out of their money at either cards or dice, always anonymously giving the winnings to the orphanage at the end of their night. Liquor had been poured freely and he'd found his proclivity for rum out of all the spirits available. The one thing he'd held himself in check with was the lasses of the village they frequented.

It was one of the few lessons that he'd never dismissed out of hand from his father: the importance of finding a partner in life to love and share the burden of the crown with. While he wasn't next in line for the throne his father had explained that their duties and obligations to their people made them unique and that whomever they chose to spend their life with not only had to understand that but be willing to do the same. His mother was the epitome of his father's hope for his sons, she hadn't been born to royalty but her comportment and love for the kingdom made her a perfect match and a wonderful ruler. She was what Killian had measured every girl he'd met up to, out of his own love and respect for her.

Killian had met Jacqueline on his way to the tavern on a warm spring night. He had been on his way to meet Thompson and a few other cadets having been held back by one of his commanding officers. His mood had been joyous, he'd been recommended for an officer's commission on one of the flagships upon his graduation which had been mere months away at that point. Jacqueline had stepped out of a shop and directly into his path, colliding with him bodily sending her wares tumbling onto the cobblestones.

They had both hastily dropped down to pick up what had fallen when she had lost her balance and ended up in his arms. She was beautiful, only a year or two younger than himself, with long auburn hair that cascaded down her back in gentle waves and hazel eyes that shifted colors, even as he looked into them. With her blush and stammered thanks he was lost to her.

It wasn't long before he was skipping out of lessons to meet with her, shirking his duties and ignoring the protests of his friends. Thompson hadn't approved of her from the start and Killian had resorted to lying and deceiving him as much as his teachers and officers. Within a month he had gone from the top of his class to nearly the bottom and he hadn't cared. He'd had Jacqueline.

Thompson had finally exploded as Killian had been preparing to leave for the village in the middle of the day once again. He'd hurled accusations and suspicions, how he felt she didn't feel as strongly as Killian did and that there were rumors about her intentions. The last straw had been Thompson's insistence that Jacqueline was just using him for his crown and he had reacted violently. Killian had stormed out of their dorm with bleeding knuckles, Thompson on the ground with both his eyes blackening as a result of his broken nose and a split lip.

Jacqueline had nursed his hands and suggested that they run away together. She whispered in his ear how they could elope, that she would be a princess and then no one could tell them what to do. Her honeyed words had been like a balm, soothing him and convincing him that it was the only course of action left to them. It was then that he'd told her he loved her and in her passionate response he hadn't realized that she never returned the sentiment.

A week later they were stealing away to Camelot. Killian couldn't trust that word wouldn't reach his father of his elopement, even if the only witness would have been a priest. They had left under the cover of night and travelled for three days before leaving Balliolshire behind. Jacqueline had kept up a quiet but consistent stream of complaints as they travelled but Killian had brushed them aside, believing that they were just her way of dealing with leaving her family and friends in the dark about what they were doing. By the time they had reached a village with a church her temperament had changed drastically but again he ignored it, explaining it away as a result of their non-stop travelling.

It wasn't a day later that Thompson had found him as he had been walking towards the priest's house to set up the elopement. Thompson was covered in sweat from a hard ride and dust from the road he'd taken to get there. The bruises around his eyes were turning a sickly yellow color and his nose was swollen all of which were nothing of note compared to the sadness in his gaze. Without a word he had handed Killian several pieces of parchment and stood silently while he read them.

He had immediately recognized Jacqueline's writing and felt a rage wash over him that Thompson had gone through his personal effects to find the letters she had written him. Then he took a closer look and realized that they weren't the letters to him, they were addressed to her mother. Flipping through the other sheets he saw the responses her mother, Lady Drizella, had written in return. With an unsteady hand he turned back to the first letter and began to read.

What unfolded was a web that had been weaved to deceive and ensnare him wholly. Jacqueline had been sent to her aunt's house with the sole hope that she would run into Killian, having been alerted to the fact that the he was at the Academy and frequently went to the village. Their initial meeting had been no accident, she had waited for him to walk by and stepped into his path purposefully. From there she had asked and received advice from her mother on how to secure a place by his side and a crown on her head. The harshest blow had been in Jacqueline's final letter where she stated that she hoped a crown was worth being tied to a man she would never love.

Killian had been devastated. He'd felt as though his heart had been turned to ice and shattered in his chest but stubbornly decided to keep beating. Thompson had quietly asked if he wanted to confront Jacqueline before she was banished back to her family estate in Misthaven. A part of him had wanted to send her off without so much as a glance, the thought of seeing her, knowing the depths of her betrayal had left him cold. It was only his need to know why that propelled him back to the inn where they had spent the night and where she was being held.

She had been crying, he could tell. Whether it was for his discovery of the truth or for her own circumstances he hadn't known. As soon as she entered the room she threw herself at his feet and sobbed through her confession. Nothing was denied, she had only wanted him for the rise in standing he could bring her and her family and his heart broke anew for it. Without a word he turned from the room and left the pieces of his heart behind.

He returned to the Academy and threw himself into his studies, making up for his absences and more, once again rising to the top of the class. Rumors had followed his reappearance, that he had grown bored and merely spent his time away bedding a lass to further break up the monotony of cadet life. Upon graduation he took the commission that had been offered him and sailed from port to port realizing that the rumor had started to spread past the walls of the Academy from fellow graduates who had anchored there before him. Prince Killian of Balliolshire was sowing his wild oats and no woman was immune to his charms when he returned to land. It wasn't long before he began to capitalize on it and hardened his heart against any attempts to steal it away.

Then he had met Emma.

"You know that I know that your reputation is based on lies but you've gone to great lengths to keep it going, even though you hate it. It's been better, these past couple of years. I just don't want to see you spiral downwards again, it's not an easy thing to stand by and watch as it's happening," Thompson said earnestly.

"I didn't ask you to," Killian sighed, finally drinking his lukewarm tea. He desperately wished for some rum to go along with it.

"You didn't need to, mate," Thompson said as he produced a flask and proceeded to pour its contents in the cup Killian had emptied. "Did you know your father is the reason I even got in the Academy? My father owed him, like he owed many people, and I had been the one sent to plea for leniency. I guess my father thought yours would go easier on a kid. Your father saw right through it of course."

Thompson took a swallow from the flask. Killian followed suit not wanting to distract Thompson. He rarely spoke of his past and never about his father.

"I had shown up on the day of the week your father opened his doors to his subjects to listen to their woes. There were so many people before me and many more behind me, complaining about their neighbors or unfair landlords and there I was a lad of thirteen begging on my father's behalf. I already hated him but my lot in life had been set, or so I thought.

"When it was my turn I burned with humiliation at having to voice my father's woes and ask forgiveness. I could barely look up at your father, let alone meet his eye but I stated my purpose clearly. Next thing I know I'm being ushered into antechamber by a guard and told to wait there. I thought I'd end up losing a hand as a way to settle my father's debts. Instead your father offered me a chance I'd never thought I'd get: a way out and to choose the man I wanted to be not the one my father was molding me into. I didn't hesitate. I barely had time to breathe before I was on my way to the Naval Academy, with nothing but a letter from the king in one hand and the clothes on my back."

Taking another slug from the flask Thompson leaned onto his elbows on the table.

"It wasn't a coincidence that I was assigned as your roommate from the start. That was the one thing your father asked of me, to be a friend and to watch your back. Not to spy on you," Thompson corrected quickly as Killian felt indignation rise. "There were plenty of other cadets and officers there to do that for him. He had told me that I had proven that I could be loyal even when I was displeased with the circumstances and if I could do that for a man I hated then I would do so much more for one I honored. I think he also wanted you to have a friend, you were pretty pathetic when I met you."

Killian laughed as he remembered their first meeting. He had been holed up in his room, guards stationed outside his doors, when Thompson burst in throwing his belongings on the bed Killian wasn't occupying. The term had already started and Killian had resigned himself to missing out on the camaraderie that came with having a roommate, believing that his royal status prevented a commoner from living in close quarters with him. Thompson's dramatic arrival quelled that notion.

"I thought the guards were going to throw you out," Killian said with a grin.

"I thought you were going to throw me out for disturbing your reading. Honestly, what twelve year old enjoys reading their school books when there's a whole new life to explore?" Thompson tipped more rum into Killian's cup and gave him a sad smile. "I could have handled the Jacqueline thing better. Instead I let my sense of duty to your father outweigh my friendship with you. After that I vowed to support your decisions, even when your brother threatens to disembowel me for it."

"Tommy-"

Thompson held up his hand, stopping Killian from saying a word.

"I know you're keeping something from me. Something more than whatever it is you're feeling for Swan. Just... just be careful, Kil. There's more on the line than just your reputation this time."

With that Thompson stood and left Killian stupefied in his wake. He felt guilt crashing over him in waves. While it hadn't been his decision to keep Thompson in the dark he had gone along with it anyhow. Even his rebelling against it hadn't lasted long and he realized that perhaps it was because he enjoyed sharing something so profound and precious with Emma. That he was somehow closer to her because of what he knew. It was a poor way to treat his friend after all they had been through.

After he finished his rum he returned to Pinocchio's quarters and gathered his belongings. He knew he still couldn't share Emma's secret but he could atone for his behavior. That night when Thompson returned to their cabin to find Killian back in his bunk no comment was made. It wasn't needed.

A few days later Emma finally sought him out while he was manning the helm, unspoken proof that he had earned some trust. They'd had several conversations since Thompson's warning but he no longer joined her in her quarters or sought her out for individual attention. He was well aware that she thought his behavior suspect and was surprised it took her as long as it had to confront him about it.

"You're avoiding me," she accused gently as she stood next to him facing aft.

"Not exactly, love, but close enough to appear that I am," Killian said, not taking his eyes off the horizon.

She looked surprised that he hadn't denied it. He could see her profile in his periphery and saw her purse her lips.

"Okay," she said slowly. "Any reason why? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, it's nothing that you've done but it does regard something you've asked of me," he said as he adjusted their course slightly. "Once we arrive in Arendelle there is a choice you need to make."

"A choice?" She turned to face him fully. "Let me guess, one that I have to make on my own and whatever I decide will change the outcome of what we've set ourselves up to do?"

"Aye," he gave her half a smile still scanning the expanse of water before him. "Not many people outside of Arendelle are aware that Queen Elsa is gifted with magic. An unfortunate incident in her youth has forced her to be circumspect with it and thus a large reason why she keeps her kingdom nearly autonomous.

"Elsa would be able to help you with your own magic, not just controlling it but harnessing it to use as you are intended to. But only if you are willing to accept it."

"She has magic?" Emma breathed out. "How has she kept it a secret and how do you know about it?"

"Never said it was a secret, Swan. Her entire kingdom knows along with some foreign royalty, especially those who have earned her trust. She just doesn't bandy it about like some queens are wont to do," Killian gave her a quick wink. "As for my knowing she was a close friend of our mother's which has afforded us the grace of her good will and her confidence, if not the trade agreement we've been negotiating on for years."

"So I need to decide if I want to learn to use my magic with her or not? Is that it?"

"Yes, the Queen has magic and it would be good to have yours to use on our side. Just know that whatever you decide I will remain your ally," he said, sneaking a glance at her.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She was looking at him warily.

"I'm well known in Queen Elsa's court and her castle guards are familiar with my face. Even with the pirate garb and beard they will know who I am the second they get a good look. As it is I'm tired of hiding myself, my purpose, and when I show up in Arendelle word will spread fast that King Brennan's murderer has been sighted. Elsa can only protect me for so long but I don't want to bring trouble to her door.

"I'll remain at the castle long enough to see you and your crew settled in. If you decide that learning magic is what you want to do then I will communicate it to Elsa, if not your secret will continue to remain between only us. Either way I won't be staying much longer than a fortnight."

"Is that why you were avoiding me because you couldn't bring yourself to tell me you're abandoning me to my face?" She asked heatedly.

"Of course not, Swan!" He stared at her, shocked by her accusation. "I would never abandon you, I said I would remain your ally."

"But you're still going to leave," she reminded him, her voice sharp.

"I have no other choice," he said resigned as he reluctantly looked forward again.

Being discovered was only partially the reason he had decided to leave her side. It was the only reason he could tell her at least. He couldn't tell her the truth. He was leaving to protect her, keep the fight away from her as long as possible, but he was also leaving to protect himself. To protect the heart he had rediscovered on their journey.

"There's always a choice," she said softly. He looked at her, curious as to the change in her tone. "I told you so that night after Blackbeard's attack and I'm telling you now. There is always another choice, you just have to be strong enough to make it."

Killian looked at her in awe. She was looking at him with a sad but steely gaze as though she had made one such decision herself. It was then that he realized he did have another option: to remain by her side, fight with her to restore her kingdom and to fight for her and her heart. A yell from above them broke his moment of revelation.

"Ship ahoy! Off the starboard bow and approaching fast!"

He looked for himself and saw a small frigate on the horizon he had been carefully watching. As he watched their course adjusted and began to head straight for them.

"I guess we both have things we need to consider, love. We'll have to make our decisions quickly, however," he gestured to the ship that was growing in size as it approached. He didn't need his spyglass to know that the flag flapping in the wind from the highest mast was a bright yellow crocus on a field of purple and dark green. "We've finally caught the attention of Arendelle patrols. If all goes well we'll be at Queen Elsa's castle in two days. I'll leave you to command us as you see fit."

Emma was seemingly torn between wanting him to stay and preparing her crew for what was to come. He gave her an encouraging smile as he stepped aside, one already tinged with the hope that she truly wanted him to be by her side for whatever was to come. She gave him a small smile in return before turning to face the prow of the ship and take her place at the helm.

"Ease the sails and prepare to drop anchor! Keep your weapons stowed and be ready to be boarded. We're not looking for a fight this time."

Killian let his smile widen and winked, "We'll save that for later, Swan."

He reveled in the blush that stained her cheeks before joining the crew as they moved across the deck. As he helped Grumpy and Sleepy wrestle with one of the sails he could feel her gaze on his back. Emma might not have made her decision but he had. He couldn't justify leaving to protect his heart, not when she was the one who was keeping it whole.

With a laugh he reveled in the burn in his shoulder, protesting at his vigorous movements. He felt alive and with the prospect of what could come in Arendelle he felt his spirits lift. Emma would win back her kingdom and he would win her heart as she had already done with his, with no tricks and no lies between them. Of those outcomes he was certain.


A.N.: I honestly thought this chapter was going to be a short one and now here we are nearly 8,000 words later. For those of you with sharp eyes, yes that was an Ever After reference with the name of Killian's first love. I didn't use Marguerite because it was too close to Liam's betrothed so Jacqueline it was, even though she's a precious cinnamon roll in the movie.

Next: Emma's decision, the whirlwind that is Anna, and advice from Elsa that more than just one of our faves could use.