Evening (or whatever time it is when you're reading this), lovelies! I am super happy to post another chapter. I didn't think this one was going to come together so quickly, but it has! I'm not going to waste anyone's time with a bunch of chatter. Instead: I would like to thank Sapphire Psycho and gingerbel for doing the thing. I appreciate it! And thank you to those who have continued reading the story.

Enchanted Forest - Past

He didn't know how badly he needed to be in Isabel's house until he was laying in his bed. Killian read her letter, knew she would be heading out to the ship soon to meet him. After a night of being berated by Harry for losing the money, he knew he'd get twice as bad from her. On his way to bed, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His face was battered and bruised to the point that he almost didn't recognize himself. Isabel was going to strangle him when she saw him so he left the ship and waited until she left to let himself in. A heavy sigh was heaved out of him. His swollen nose made it difficult to breathe. Every intake of breath was labored thanks to what Harry said was a cracked rib. He was lucky it hadn't punctured his lung, but with the way he was breathing, he wasn't sure he was in the clear quite yet.

Killian was honestly scared that she would be more disappointed in him than angry. Not that he could have gotten out of the fight if he wanted to. The three brothers that attacked him were hell bent on fighting him. If he had to guess, they probably wanted to go brag to their friends around town that they had beaten a pirate. Not to mention the fact the glaring obviousness that it was something they had done before. Still, he was more terrified that she would be disappointed in him. She never understood why boys fought over anything. She always believed boys to be the less sensible sex, and he had to admit that she was right most of the time. Boys had a tendency to want to go into battle over the littlest things. Girls were simply more pragmatic. At least, that's what Killian had learned throughout the years. Of course, that was only around other boys. Perhaps it was just something borne into men; to brawl whenever it came to any sort of disagreement. Women, as catty as they were with one another, could solve problems more efficiently and more peaceably. Isabel didn't understand why boys had to duke it out, and Killian knew she hoped he wasn't like other boys in that department. Most of the time, he kept his fights a secret from her, especially the nastier ones. She was not stupid. She knew he got into fights. If he had a new scar, she was going to find it and she was going to wrangle the story out of him. Yet, that was the only way she seemed to learn about his fights. It wasn't as if he was going to return to her and announce that he had been in a fight. He wanted to delay that look she would give him for as long as he could. Since he was in the village when this particular fight happened, he would not be able to shelter himself from the blow she would deal him with that look.

As he lay in his bed, he knew he needed to come up with some better explanation than he was ambushed. He needed a clever way to evade the truth really. Not lie per se. That never got him anywhere with her. He needed to figure out something to tell her that would make her believe that he hadn't started the fight. She would know that the fight was still fresh. His knuckles were far too raw and barely scabbed over. Not to mention, she had seen him the night before the fight. He would have to tell her that his shipmates had gotten drunk; one of two of them. In their drunken stupor, they jumped him. Killian fought them off the best he could. After all, most of the crew were about twice his size in either weight or muscle. They knocked him around a bit, but he held his own against them. Finally, they were too drunk that they lost interest. That wouldn't work for long, but maybe she would believe him. He knew he couldn't very well tell her that he allowed himself to be snookered into a fight with a bunch of local boys for no reason other than they were assholes. Perhaps he should just tell her that. On more than one occasion, she'd offered to go after anyone who even dared to look at him funny. A pained chuckle escaped him as he envisioned her going up to the three brothers and kicking their asses. Hell, Isabel angry was frightening enough. They'd probably be cowered in fear and pissing themselves when she got finished giving them a piece of her mind. He knew he would be.

Sleep finally set in, and he dreamed about Isabel coming home and throwing a fit over how he looked. She cried and screamed at him for being so careless. As she yelled at him, he felt himself shrink down to the size of a field mouse. Then she started to chase him in a fury, trying to squash him. He ran as fast as he could and managed to stay out of her grasp. Her footsteps caused the ground to shake. Her anger ran chills through him. And he begged for her to forgive him, swearing on their love he would do better. But when he did that, he was suddenly facing his parents. He was a child again. He sobbed, promising them that he would be a good boy. They didn't listen. Instead, his mother turned and walked away from him. His father followed her. Finally, Isabel turned to leave. He grabbed desperately for her hand, begged her to stay. She snatched her hand away, called him a liar and a coward, and left him there.

Isabel left the ship frowning. Her date to meet Killian never happened because he wasn't there. All the men would tell her was that he left early, and they assumed it was to meet her or that it may have something to do with the wedding. Isabel wasn't sure, but it sounded very much like a lie to her. Maybe he really was doing something pertaining to the wedding. She didn't understand why he had to ditch her yet again, though. It saddened her. She worried that she done something to upset him. If he was angry she asked Terence to deliver the ring, then he could tell her that. He didn't have to punish her. It may not have even been that. He maybe wanted to surprise her. She hoped that was his reason.

She debated just going home for the day. She didn't exactly feel like going to her father's shop. He probably wouldn't mind all that much either, but she had an obligation to her father. She knew she needed to uphold her end of the agreement. Really, there was no real option for her to skip out on working with him. Making her way to the shop, she stopped into the bakery for a few sticky buns. Her father left before she had a chance to make breakfast. He normally left early because he loved his work. So much so that he couldn't wait to get back to it sometimes. Isabel somehow managed to sweet talk most of the merchants to help keep William fed or to even make sure that he took a proper break from time to time. Everyone figured he immersed himself in his work after Celeste passes. They made sure he didn't drown himself in his work and forget about Isabel. He still made time for her and managed to raise her mostly on his own. Until she was old enough to fend for herself, she was a case of it taking a village to raise a child. Then it turned into a village raising her father basically.

"Isabel, is that you?" her father called out from his workshop.

"Yes, father," she called back, her voice sounding slightly forlorn.

He walked into the front of the shop and looked her over. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she lied, holding up her basket. "You hungry? I brought sweet rolls."

"I am," he nodded with a smile. "How's Killian?" William watched his daughter shift focus from him to the basket. "You didn't get to see him, did you?"

"He'd already left," she mumbled. She should have known that she and Killian weren't pulling anything over on William. Of course he knew what she was doing and where she was going. There really was no sense in denying anything.

Taking a sweet roll, William watched her again. He chuckled. "After I asked your mother to marry me, her father insisted we take a month apart to see if our feelings for one another still held. We found every possible way that we could to see one another. Glad to see you and Killian have kept up the tradition."

"Only he's also insisting that we not see each other," she grumbled.

"I highly doubt that's what's going on, love. I told Harry to tell Killian that he's welcome to join us for dinner. Harry too if he wants," William smiled as her face lit up, and he took a bite of his own roll.

Harry would never forego a free meal, and he'd never give Killian the option of opting out. "Should I leave early to cook dinner then?"

"I think that will be alright," he nodded.

"I head Lionel boasting about having extra chimera for sale," she giggled.

"Gods no! You're trying to marry Killian, not scar him for life," he laughed.

"Actually, he was mentioning a good haul of elk. I'll grab some on my way home. Maybe Edward and Katherine finally harvested their potatoes. I can get some of those too," she grinned excitedly.

"Haggle the price down if you can. They're always so greedy, and they hardly ever have anything worth a damn," he told her. "And be sure they don't give us any rotten one."

"I know how to handle them father. Trust me. They won't pull anything over on me," she took a bite of her own sweet roll.

"Just making sure you remember. I know how forgetful seeing that boy can make you," he chuckled.

She sighed before nudging her father. "Not forgetful. I just get excited to see him. I'm a lovesick girl is all."

"Oh that I know. Never thought I would ever understand your grandfather's frustrations with me until you met Killian," he grumbled.

"You handle it much better I think," she teased. "Besides, sometimes I think you love him just as much as I do."

"No. I feel extreme relief knowing you'll finally cheer up and give me some peace," he teased back. "He makes you happy and adores you more than anything. That's all I can hope for."

"I adore him just the same," she mused.

"Unconditionally it seems," he nodded.

"Of course. He may be a pirate, but…well, you know him. Pirate doesn't always have to mean bad, does it?" she asked.

"No it doesn't," he shook his head. "I should get back to work. Get out of here by lunch time. Terence is going to bring me something to eat."

"Good. I'll try to leave by then," she smiled. "Take the rest of these if he doesn't get here in time." She offered up the rest of the sweet rolls.

William took the basket and disappeared into the workshop, grumbling about her always trying to take care of him. She giggled before she started going around the shop and tidying things up for any customers that might come in. None did, and by the time noon came, she was ready to get out of the shop. She needed to get everything ready for dinner that night. It wasn't like she needed to impress anyone with her cooking. She wanted to find something nice to wear. Not to mention, she hoped that Killian might show up so they would have some time alone together. At that point, she was ready to just wrap her arms around him and not let go for a very long time. They couldn't do that with her father and Harry around. They'd earned the time together as she saw it.

She rushed through the market, buying what she thought she might need for dinner. She had lucked out with Edward and Katherine. They were feeling rather generous and didn't try to ask for too much money for a few potatoes and some carrots. Katherine even threw in a few truffles their hogs had scrounged up for them. Then it was to Lionel's to grab some meat. He managed to save some of the best cuts of meat for her and her father, which she was incredibly thankful for. Once done there, she actually grabbed a bouquet of flowers to put on the table. Then it was off to the house to get things in order.

There was something a little off about the house when she got there. Something was just a little different to her. The downstairs part of the house was perfectly fine, but as she climbed the stairs, she noticed the door to Killian's room slightly ajar. Isabel opened the door a bit more to peer inside. Nothing seemed any different except the boy in the bed. A smile grew on her face. With every intention of laying down with him, she tiptoed over. He was sound asleep. Otherwise, he would have heard her sneaking up on him. As heavy of a sleeper as Killian was, he had excellent hearing. He told her it was something he developed before Harry took him in. As an orphan on his own, he needed to be alert and aware of everything going on around him. He could be in a deep sleep and the slightest noise could rouse him. Of course, Isabel could prove him wrong on a few occasions. This was one of them. The sun shone on him enough that she could watch the rise and fall of his back. He was on his stomach with the pillow bunched up in his arms and his cheek pressed to it. His hair was even more ruffled than normal. She smiled as she got closer to him, but that smile soon disappeared when his face came into view.

Killian was hurt. That much was obvious. His cheek has a cut right over his cheekbone. His eye was blackened just above that. His lips were busted and swollen too. Isabel's eyes traveled down the part of his body she could see. Bruises were scattered about his arm and chest. Several cuts littered his skin. Everything looked incredibly fresh, and she knew that when he woke up he would tell her they were old. That she shouldn't worry, but what she saw was just part of her worst fears for him. It was bad enough that she had to worry about something like that happening when he was away. Now she had to worry about it when he was home too. Obviously all of the wounds she could see were brand new. They were too red and purple for them to be anything but new. Isabel fought the urge to trace them all with her fingers. The last thing she wanted was to wake him and have him try to lie to her about what happened to him. For once, she wouldn't be able to believe that the men he sailed with did this to him. Isabel wasn't a fool. There were boys in town who almost always boasted about how they bet they could get to Killian. They teased her when he was away, but funnily enough, their mouths slammed shut when Killian was actually around. It seemed someone had finally gotten brave enough to lay a finger on him. Isabel knew that Killian could defend himself, but some of the boys in town were ruthless enough to make sure they caught him off guard. In her mind, she played out a scenario of one of the boys in town waiting until nightfall when Killian was on his way to meet her or maybe even finishing an errand for Harry. They hid in the shadows, watching him carefully as he paid little attention to anything other than finding her. When he got close enough, they sucker punched him and continued to beat on him until they were tired and he'd had enough. Sure Killian would fight as best as he could, but in the end, they would have caught him so off guard that his fighting was minimal. His bruises seemed to be evident of him not fighting back much. She could see just a hint of his knuckles sticking out from under his pillow. They were scabbed over and bruised much like the rest of him. He had fought back, but he obviously didn't fight back well enough to win.

Her heart broke at the thought. The fact that someone would hurt him simply because they disliked him made her sick to her stomach. Then again, she guessed that was something that came with him being a pirate, and maybe she just needed to let it go. But she found herself slowly backing out of the room. She would let him rest, and she would focus on getting dinner ready. It would be a welcome distraction to what was laying in his bed. It wasn't just that someone decided they needed to teach him some sort of lesson. Killian was broken enough. He existed in a world that constantly dealt him bad hands and held all the good just out of his reach. Eventually, enough would be enough for him and he really would start fighting back. The only reason he hadn't turned into a bad pirate was because he had people like her father, Harry, and herself who could balance out the bad. But how long would they be enough? How long until even she couldn't quash the inevitable feelings that he was never meant for anything good? It worried her to think that one day he would just break completely and never return to her. That was honestly what she feared the most about him leaving. One day he would leave as her Killian. Then he would return someone completely different. Of course, she was scared he would be killed while he was away, but his snapping was something she feared more than anything. It would be as if he died without him having died at all. She could never see that stopping her from loving him as she did. They were true love, and she would love whatever he became. She just wondered how long he would be hers after it happened.

The smell of something delicious cooking roused him from his sleep. For a second, he forgot where he was. The room was much darker than when he finally went to sleep, and he felt slightly out of sorts. He was the kind of groggy where he thought he was still dreaming. It slowly clicked with him that he was in Isabel's home, in the room she'd set up for him, but what didn't click was that he wasn't dreaming. He waited for the next blow of his mind to hit him with some image of her leaving again. Laying there, he waited while repeating in his mind that none of it was real. Sitting up, he groaned and brought his hand up to his side where a large bruise was. His fingers felt around it, wondering if maybe his rib was actually broken. He pushed himself out of bed, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head as he headed towards the door. His stomach growled loudly when he opened it. The smell of stew wafted up the stairs to him, and his mouth watered. Killian hadn't felt much like eating since before the fight. With his stomach as empty as it was, the smell of food alone awakened his voracious appetite. When he made it to the kitchen, he half expected to see Isabel standing by the fire. Instead, he found William standing there while Harry sat at the table. The two men were laughing about something, and it wasn't until Killian cleared his throat that their attention was brought to him.

"William, look who is finally awake! Did you get enough beauty rest, princess," Harry laughed.

"For the record, it was only supposed to be a short nap," Killian grumbled.

"Of course it was," William chuckled.

"Where's Isabel?" Killian asked.

"She's in her room. I think she's primping so she can see you," William shrugged. "She left us down here to watch the stew. Haven't heard anything out of her since. Dinner is almost ready. Perhaps you should go get her."

Killian nodded, getting the hint. The food was probably ready, and Isabel was taking entirely too long for their liking. They were hoping they would coax her out of her room. Of course, they also should have known that Isabel didn't do anything unless she felt like it. If she wanted to give Killian a hard time, then that's what she would do. If she wanted to be compliant and come down for dinner when he asked, then that's what she would do. He was sure it was a trait she got from her mother. They way William described Celeste he almost thought Isabel was a duplicate of her mother. He wondered just how much of a parent could rub off if their child didn't know them for very long. He had known his parents for quite some time, and he was just like his father in all the worst ways. Hot-headed. Cocky. Vengeful. The only thing he got from his mother was her eyes. He didn't see her in him much at all. Now there was no one to reassure him, and his father never did.

Knocking on Isabel's door, he covered his eyes as he opened it. "Hope you're decent, love." She didn't' say anything back, and he almost wondered if she was even in the room at all. Lowering his hand, he saw her sitting on the bed; back to him. His head tilted to the side, and he walked over to the bed. "Dinner's ready."

"Not hungry," she told him.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "Because I'm starving."

"Then go eat," she shrugged, not turning to look at him.

"You don't want to join me?" His eyebrows knit together.

"Wanna explain your face first?" she asked.

He sighed and looked into the mirror. He'd looked much worse, but that wasn't what she wanted to hear. "Bill got a little too drunk," he lied. "Got a little carried away. Took it out on me."

"His knuckles were fine when I saw him this morning." She finally turned to face him, and the evidence that she had been crying was all over her face. Her cheeks had wet streaks going down them.

Killian looked down at his hands, ashamed. Moving closer to her, he ran his bruised knuckle along her cheek. "I got ambushed. Some local boys looking for a fight, and I stupidly gave it to them. They stole from me. Well, one did. His brothers were waiting."

"Could it have been avoided?" Her eyes left him once more.

"Most likely yes," he admitted. As much as he hated to admit a little blame, he knew part of it was his. "I probably could have explained everything to Harry. Avoided the confrontation altogether." It was true, but he was his father's son after all.

"So they just wanted to hurt you." She barely got the words out before she started to cry again.

Immediately, his arms wrapped around her, and she clung to him. He knew what was going through her mind. Something worse could've happened to him. He was lucky they weren't carrying knives or swords. He knew that's all she ever worried about, yet she never actually asked him to do anything about it. Retiring from piracy was his idea. Working with her father was the same. Once they were married, she would never have to worry again. If it meant never having to see her cry like that over him again, Killian would do whatever he had to. She was far more important to him. Pulling back from her, he brushed her hair from her face. "Don't worry. I got them too."

"You know what's going to happen if I see them right?" she wiped her tears away.

He nodded. "Aye. I do."

"Good," she nodded as well.

His stomach growled, and he covered it with his hand. "Can we please go eat?"

She thought for a moment. "Why don't we eat up here? Tell father I feel unwell and I want to stay in bed."

"I think that can be arranged," he grinned. He gave her a chaste kiss. "I'll be right back. You get under the blankets, and I'll go tell them the bad news."