Chapter 12 is finally done! I feel like it might be a little awkward writing-wise, but I think I'll still publish it because I can't think of how to fix it. Also, as I mentioned in the last chapter, I have published another Hook fic (I can't post the link, but it's called Revenge was Sweet by me). I've only published one chapter so far but I think I might want to continue it. I, however, am a terrible multitasker and prefer to really focus on things when I do them. So, my updates for this story may or may not (but probably will) become more infrequent, with new chapters coming out maybe 3 or 4 days apart. I definitely won't be stopping this story, and will have to see where my mind takes me for the other story, but for now, you should probably not expect another update until the weekend.
And after that very long introduction, here's the chapter...
The two laid there in silence for what seemed an eternity, their thoughts consuming them. Killian could feel Anya's icy cold skin against his own, hear every one of her soft breaths. Occasionally she would shiver in his arms, and he would tighten his grip around her waist and pull her even closer to him. The moment was so tender, so perfect, that he wanted it to last forever. Alas, it was impossible; the nun's soft and curious voice broke the silence. "Captain, what was your sister like?" The question took Killian completely off guard. The girl had never before shown an interest in his past life or relationships, and was rarely daring enough to ask him something so personal. He figured, though, that if Anya was to be a slave for the rest of her life because he wanted revenge for Anita, she at least ought to know a little bit about her. "She was..." he thought hard about Anita, tried to express the feelings that she evoked in him with words, "strong." I was a simple, common word, but he it was the one that he thought truly captured his sister. "In what ways? I mean, what did she do that made her...strong?" Anya asked, her voice still hoarse and small. Killian sighed, biting his lip.
"She...was brave. She would never let anyone take advantage of her, anyone hurt her. She didn't love many, but those she did love...she protected."
"Like you?"
"Hmmmmm?"
"I mean, she loved you. She protected you. Right?" Anya asked innocently. Killian chuckled lightly, and Anya could feel his chest shaking against her. "Yes, she did." His princess smiled to herself. "She sounds wonderful." Killian gave Anya a sad look. "That's not exactly the word I woud use."
"Oh?"
"She...she was not always the best...person to be around." he said carefully, not wanting to scare Anya with the gruesome tale of his past. "What do you mean?" The captain thought briefly of how much he wanted to tell Anya, of how much he dared tell her. He didn't want to insult his sister's memory, but he felt that he needed to tell someone his true story. He wanted someone in the world to understand why he was the way he was, what had forced a little boy to become the deceiving, thieving pirate he was today. He had never before trusted someone enough to even want to tell them such intimate things, share with them memories that were almost too hard for him to face. But, with Anya, he felt safer. Not safe, but safer. He felt like he could confide in her. "I mean...she was almost too strong to be to love. She would push people away, force them to do her bidding. She was a master of manipulation. She made everyone around her feel as though they were inferior, as though they were worthless. She-" Killian didn't want to go on. He had already said to much. He was sure that Anya would use the information he had just given her to her advantage, manipulate it somehow to destroy him. He had just shared with her his biggest weakness-his sister. Perhaps she had not seen how much it hurt him to recall Anita, perhaps she had not heard the pain in his voice when he spoke, but if she had, Killian was sure that he was done for.
Anya shifted in the bed, turning her body so that she stared directly into Killian's eyes. On her face she wore a compassionate expression, her eyes full of understanding and pity. "You're not worthless." Killian gave her a tight smile, trying to hide how much that sentence had meant to him. You're not worthless. What was the girl playing at? What was she trying to do to him? "You're brave." she whispered sincerely. "Far braver than ever I could be." Again, Killian tried to dismiss her words with a small smile. For good measure, he forced a chuckle, too. "What you interpret as bravery Anya," he said, tapping her nose with his finger, causing her to scrunch it up and giggle, "most interpret as stupidity." Again, Anya's voice took on a serious and sincere tone, "I don't think you're stupid, captain. In fact, you're one of the smartest men I've ever met." At her words, Killian could hear distantly in his head Anita yelling. "You're so stupid, K! You're a stupid, worthless excuse for a human being and you sure as hell don't deserve to live. I don't know why I keep you around, you're just a big burden. One day, Killian, I'm gonna leave you to die, and you'll be too stupid to figure out what to do." The voice was getting louder and louder in his head, and Killian was trying desperately to force the disturbing memory from his mind, focusing on anything else. "Of- of all the men you've ever met, I'm the smartest?" he asked amusedly, his voice only faltering slightly. He had had his confident, swaggering act down to a tee before he was even twelve years old. "I didn't say you were the smartest, I said you were one of the smartest. Let's not get ahead of ourselves, captain." she told him, a girlish smile on her lips. The reserve her voice had harboring at the beginning of the conversation was lost, and he could feel that some of the tension in her body was melting away. She felt comfortable with him. "But you admit, I'm smart?" Killian said, prodding her gently in the arm. She giggled and looked sheepishly down at her hands, which were still under the covers. She didn't give Killian a further response than that, and he didn't want one. He only rolled on to his back, his right arm still hugging Anya to his chest.
"Can I ask you something else, captain?" Anya asked gingerly. Killian had only to look at her face to know that he would certainly not like the words that followed, but he allowed her to say them anyways. "What do you think my father did to your sister?" The question was one that she had pondered over and over, wondering whether or not the accusations Killian had leveled against Leopold when he had captured her were true. When the pirate did not immediately respond, though, Anya quickly dismissed her question, assuring him that he needn't answer it and it was folly for her to have even asked in the first place. He still did not respond. "I'm sorry if I've offended you, captain. It was something between you and my father, nothing of my conc-" Anya was interrupted in her fearful apology, however, with Killian's abrupt explanation. "He killed Anita." Those three simple words were filled with so much bitterness and hatred, so much anger and pain, that in that moment, Anya could hardly understand how the man could ever have seemed happy to her. There was so much ovewhwelming emotion, emotion she had never even witnessed, much less experienced. She didn't dare prod for more, didn't dare force the man to resurface memories and feelings that painful, but, for some inexplicable reason, he continued. "He killed Anita unjustly. He took he life in cold blood, without even caring enough to listen to her. She was innocent. I know she was. Whatever he said, she was innocent." Anya swore for a moment that she saw in Killian's eye a tear, shimmering in the feeble light. But, quick as a blink, it was gone. "I'm so sorry, Killian." she said, her voice full of sincere sorrow. "I'm sure my father didn't know-"
"Don't make excuses for him!" Killian said disgustedly. "He doesn't deserve them. He doesn't deserve anything. Not happiness, not a wife, not you..." Despite his biting words, despite the insults and accusations Killian was throwing at her father, Anya didn't contradict him. She didn't deny that her father was a lonely, selfish man. She didn't deny that her father deserved to die a thousand deaths and burn in Hell afterwards. She didn't deny anything Killian said about him, for she knew that if she did, it would summon a rage or sorrow to Killian more painful than anything in the world. She did not want to see the man hurt anymore than he already was. When so many others had refused to accept what was right in front of them, that Killian needed support and help, Anya saw the truth. She knew that Killian needed somebody to stand beside him, somebody to care for him as his sister had. He needed love. And it was because of this realization, this daunting awareness and comprehension of the man that was lying next to her, that Anya did something she might never have dared none. She kissed him. It was brief yet tender, chaste, meant more to be a message of support and care than an act of seduction. Anya told herself that it was wrong, that she was betraying herself and God, but then why did it feel so right? His soft, wet lips against hers, the way his arm felt around her waist, even just for that fleeting, transient moment, everything felt okay. She felt safe and protected, as though nothing and no one in the world could hurt her.
Anya's brief excitement, however, was stifled when she saw Killian's eyes, wide with undecipherable emotion. Her breath hitched in her throat and she paused in her position, face inches from Killian's. Neither said a word, just laid there staring into each other's eyes, searching for clues as to what the other was thinking. For a long moment, nothing could be heard but their uneven breathing, notched and heavy. Finally, when she felt she could take no more of the silent and stiff communication, Anya turned to lay back down on the bed, cheeks heating ashamedly. Before her back hit the mattress, however, she felt a strong arm catch her and pull her back to Killian's chest. Another hand ran through her hair, sending titillating shivers up and down her spine. She felt Killian pull her face gruffly towards his own, felt her delicate lips clash with Killian's rough ones. The kiss was no longer modest and refined, but needy and passionate. Both parties were savage and vehement in their manner, hands gripping each other deprivedly. Killian's were traveling up and down Anya's small body, trying to capture the feel of her. Meanwhile, Anya's hands were placed on each of Kilian's cheeks as she tried desperately to keep up with his needy kisses. Occasionally, she would retract from him, gasping for air, but Killian would always pull her back to him. The two had become quite heated, their bodies beginning to warm with the friction between them, before Anya placed a cold hand on Killian's chest. He looked up at her confusedly, wondering if he'd done something wrong.
"I can't do this. Not now, not here." she whispered apprehensively, as though she feared Killian would be angry. He only stared at her with lust in his eyes, pushing behind her ear a fallen lock of her silky brown hair. "Do what, Anya?" he asked. The girl didn't seem to know how to answer him, as she just shook her head. "Do...this. Us. You. I dedicated my life to something; I can't just go turn my back on it now." she told him. "That's no way to live your life Anya. Hell, you won't even be living your life if you abide by those vows you took. You'll be shutting out all the possibilities you could have for sex, for family, for love." Killian insisted, begging her with his eyes to understand what he was saying. "I promised, I vowed. If I go back on that now, then what will I have left?" she asked him, fearful of the answer. "You'll have me." Killian stated simply, bringing her back to him. At first she resisted mildly, batting her small fist against his chest, but eventually she submitted, melting into his arms as if he were her sun. For a long time, they just kissed, content with the feeling of their bodies against each others, their lips interlocked. But as each became more and more flushed, more agitated, their bodies needing friction. Gently, slowly, Killian pulled the sleeve of Anya's dress off her shoulder, kissing it tenderly. Her breath hitched in her throat again as she ran her hand through Killian's hair. He continued undressing her, unbuttoning her dress slowly, staring intensely into Anya's eyes as he did it. She gave a nervous giggle, and he smiled reassuringly back to her, flipping her over so that her back was on the bed and he was lying on top of her. Anya let out a small whimper as he did so, and he placed a short, fragile kiss on her cheek, working the buttons adeptly the entire time. When finally he was done, Killian lifted Anya up and pulled the sleeves off of her, leaving her bare from the waist higher. He looked hungrily down at her chest, and then back up to her face, which was plastered with an expression of uncertainty and worry, as though she feared she would not be adequate for him. Killian only laughed lightheartedly and stroked her cheek, letting her wrestle out of the bottom of the dress herself. Before he could look down, however, she caught him quickly in a long and passionate kiss, almost as if she was trying to distract him so that he would not see her. Then, again, she probably was. "Are you going to-?" Anya asked embarassedly once they had broken their embrace, gesturing to his still-clothed body. "Of course I am, love." he answered her, lifting his tunic over his head. Anya stared fleetingly at his taught stomach and chest, allowing herself to be momentarily impressed with the beauty of him. "Enjoying the view?" he asked amusedly, noticing Anya's intense gaze at his naked self. She looked up at him like she was a deer caught in the headlights, then looking embarassedly down at her folded hands, which were quite conveniently folded in her lap so that no one from Killian's angle might be able to see...it. Killian took her bashfulness as a compliment, and smiled inwardly to himself. He tried his hardest to control himself so that he wouldn't laugh; that would destroy what little confidence Anya had. She's so beautiful in this light, Killian thought, staring at Anya, She's beautiful in any light. He decided to tell her as much. Lifting her chin up so that she would stare into his eyes, he whispered seductively in her ear, "You're beautiful, Anya. You're gorgeous." She looked to him gratefully, cracked a smile and brought him into yet another passionate and sensual kiss. Killian reacted readily, pulling her to him, wrapping her legs around his waist. However, after a few moments of idle kissing, Killian realized that Anya would likely not initiate anything; she was still too virginal in the ways of men.
He shifted on the bed, careful to not break the kiss, and laid Anya flat on her back, following her quickly. Surprisingly, his heart was beating rapidly in his chest and he was sweating nervously, as though it was his first time seducing a maiden. It wasn't even the first time seducing this maiden. If you can count what I did that first time as seducing, he thought offhandedly to himself. Best to think of that...unfortunate...encounter, though. Focus on the present, not the past. Killian certainly found no difficulty in that. The young woman squirming anxiously under him was stunning, possessing a god-like beauty and innocence. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to love her body, to hold her in his arms and call her his own. He wanted nothing more than to be able to call someone 'love' and actually mean it, to feel understood and cared for as he had years ago with Anita. "Is something wrong, Kill-capt- Is something wrong?" Anya asked curiously, not quite sure how to address the man lying on top of her. Killian shook himself from his thoughts, regarding Anya. "Of course not, love. And call me Killian. I do believe we've established that much." he told her kindly, shifting his position above her. He gave Anya one last questioning look, as if to ask, 'are you sure'? Anya answered his unspoken question with a small nod, placing each of her hands on either of his shoulders and clutching tightly. She stiffened her body and closed her eyes, holding in a breath as though she was preparing for something to hit her. "Try to relax, Anya. Otherwise it will make it uncomfortable for you." Killian whispered in her ear, stroking her side soothingly to calm her. "Just relax. Relax." She let out the breath she had held in and let her body lie limp in the bed, allowing Killian complete control.
Placing one last gentle kiss on her collarbone, Killian thrust into her, evoking a sharp gasp from the girl. She immediately dug her nails into Killian's back and tightened her grip on him, seeking strength. He hushed her quietly, stroking her hair lovingly. "Keep going, Killian. I-I want to." she told him. He nodded, and thrust again into the young girl. This time she stiffled her gasp, but still kept her powerful grip on Killian's back. Again, Kililan thrust into Anya, and again, and again, until he was groaning in ecstasy and she was moaning. The pain she felt had receded, and was replaced with a bliss and longing unknown to her. She felt warm and wet, the friction Killian was causing inspiringpleasure she would never have imagined in the convent. She felt something deep inside her building up, and saw in Killian's eyes the same. They were building up to something, some spiritual zenith or peak. And they were nearing it. Their thrusts, their shouts of delight were culminating towards a single, heavenly moment. Killian began pumping faster, no longer fearing that he was hurting Anya, no longer fearing that he was scaring her. He knew that she loved it just as much as he did, wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Her gasps were like music to his ears, a thousand angels singing to him. He loved that he drove her to this, that she had come to him chaste and innocent in the ways of love, and they were now sharing the same bed, the same body. He had pictured her like this many a time in his dreams, writhing under him and squealing his name, but to be able to truly feel her soft body and to hear her voice, it drove him over the edge. And apparently, it drove her over the edge too. Her screams had been increasing in volume and intensity, until now, when she let out one long, loud, euphoric shout, reaching her climax. Killian soon followed, but smothered his shout in the crook of Anya's neck, spilling his seed into her.
After Killian's heart had settled back into its rhythmic pattern and he was able to control his body once again, he rolled to the side of the mattress and pulled Anya close to him. Neither he nor she said a word, only relished the feeling of each other's bodies until they fell asleep, both with smiles on their faces.
