Author's Note: The reception this story continues to get is just awesome. Thank you all so much! On with more palace shenanigans and sexy times! ;)

Disclaimer: Do you see this show on HBO? Me neither.

Chapter 14

"Killian..."

It was a testament to how hard the last few weeks had been...Killian was awake almost instantly. He'd become finely attuned to Emma calling out for him in her sleep since her fiery nightmares had begun. It seemed like she had gotten a handle on them since her birthday, almost a week ago. But Killian still found himself waking in the middle of the night to make sure she was sound asleep, just in case.

He blinked through the faint dawn light, rolling on his side to look at her. And froze.

Emma was dreaming alright, but it was not a nightmare she was having.

The sheet was twisted around her legs; he could make out the outline of her hips rocking slightly under the linen. She was wearing one of his black shirts—her only concession to the colder nights—which did nothing to hide the taut peaks of her nipples, straining under the fabric, pulled tight across her skin as she moved. One hand had the pillow in a death grip, tiny whimpers and moans tumbling from her slightly parted lips.

"More," she murmured, still asleep. "Killian, gods."

He took comfort that it was he that she dreamed about; whatever his dream self was doing to her, she was enjoying it. He couldn't recall her ever having a sex dream about him; gods knew he'd had them about her. So many bloody times in those weeks they'd been separated. He woke up hot and sweaty and sticky, instantly feeling the loss when he woke up alone. But Emma wasn't alone. She was right there in front of him, making sounds that went straight to his cock. It was mere moments before he was aching for her.

"Gods, love," he muttered. "I do think you're trying to kill me."

Killian reached over and brushed some hair away from her beautiful face; Emma reacted to his touch instinctively, leaning into him. He was loathe to wake her, but her body sought his, giving all the appearance of sleep as she rubbed up against him. He let out a shaky breath, finally allowing his hand to rest on her hip. He thought of all the times she'd woken him up with her lips around his cock, sucking him off first thing in the morning (or not as the case may be). It was the best way to wake up in Killian's opinion, with his gorgeous wife's hot wet mouth doing wicked and wonderful things to him. He thought it was time he returned the favor.

His hand slipped under the sheet and deftly slid the linens away from her long bare legs. He kept his touch light, not ready to wake her quite yet, just enjoying the feeling her smooth skin under his palm. He slipped his knee between her legs, suppressing a groan as she rocked into him. He could feel the heat of her against his thigh, the wetness. Curious, he slowly slipped a finger to the apex of her thighs. She was soaked, her arousal coating the inside of her thighs.

Killian bit his lip, forcing himself to stay still, to not be selfish and throw her on her back and just take her. He wanted her awake first. Instead, he slid his hand upwards, under his borrowed shirt, until he could palm her breast. He kneaded the soft flesh gently, testing the weight of it in his hand. He couldn't be certain but it did seem a tad bigger than he remembered. Her breasts were certainly more sensitive now; her body beginning the changes that would bring their son into the world. Killian knew Emma was afraid of how he would react to those changes, if he would still want her the way he did now, but Killian wasn't worried. Emma practically glowed with happiness and if was honest with himself...knowing she was that way because of him, that it was his child she carried...he wanted her as much as he ever did. And would until it was physically impossible or she ordered him away.

Emma moaned softly again, back arching into his touch. Killian brushed his thumb over her taut peak, lowering his head to mouth at the other through the black fabric. If she wanted him, then who was he to deny her?

Killian could tell the instant she woke, her hand coming up to cover his through her shirt. "Killian." Her voice was sleepy, but not surprised.

He said nothing, merely nudged the linen away from her breast with his nose and sucking the pert nipple into his mouth. He used the extra sensitivity to his advantage, wanting her writhing against him, begging for relief.

"Oh," Emma breathed. "Was I...was I dreaming?"

Killian hummed against her skin, releasing her with a faint smacking sound. "Aye, love." He raised his leg up to skim over her slick folds; Emma hissed in response. "Sounded like a good dream."

Emma reached over, pulling his lips up to hers, not quite brushing his. "And you decided to make it better?"

"Aye."

"Good." She closed the minuscule gap, pressing her lips firmly against his. Killian moaned into it, thrilled that she was awake and eager for him. He had no problems with needy, wanton Emma. He turned his head, deepening the kiss, slipping his tongue past her lips, hand coming up and threading through her golden tresses. Emma responded in kind, tugging on his hair, nails scratching lightly down his back. "Gods, why do I always want you so much?" she panted, when they paused for air.

"Not complaining, darling," he mumbled, lips leaving a wet trail down her neck and into the deep V of his borrowed shirt. He sucked on the swell of her breasts, unable to get enough of the taste of her skin. Emma impatiently pulled on the fabric, trying to get it off. Killian pulled back long enough to allow her to strip off their only barrier before he had her on her back, covering her body with his. He slipped easily into the cradle of her thighs, having done it a thousand times before. He never got tired of how this felt, of how his body seemed to burn for hers. "Emma."

Emma mewled under him, her hands sliding down his back until she could squeeze his ass firmly. "Yes?"

Killian braced himself on his left arm, looking down into her eyes. He saw the desire he felt reflected there, like it was threatening to burn her alive. "Tell me about this dream of yours, lass." Hearing her talk about the things she wanted him to do to her drove him crazy.

Emma bit her kiss swollen lips as she gazed up at him, unashamed. She was so much more comfortable with her body and its needs since he met her; she was a vision. "I was...sitting on your face," she said, her voice low, all traces of sleep gone now. "And you were fucking me with your tongue."

He could see it in his mind: Emma naked above him, kneeling over his face, hanging on for dear life as he used his mouth to bring her pleasure. As much as he ached for her, he could give her that first. Killian leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss as he rolled them onto his back. He rocked his hips into hers, making them both groan. "Go on then," he said, kissing the corner of her mouth. "Up you get."

"Killian?"

He smacked her ass lightly. "Do I need to tell you again, lass?"

Emma's face broke out into a grin as she sat up and hurried to comply. She obviously hadn't expected him to indulge her little fantasy, but there was nothing he wouldn't do for her. Her knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his head and Killian wrapped his arms loosely around her thighs.

"Hang on, love," he said, turning his head and kissing the inside of her thigh. He heard rather than saw her grab a hold of the headboard to their bed, bracing herself, her body shivering in his arms. He blew a gentle warm breath over her slick flesh, his tongue darting out and licking a stripe across her slit. "You taste divine, Emma."

Emma moaned, her hips moving of their own volition. "Killian...please."

He pulled her down by the legs until she hovered right over his mouth. He could just make out her face just past her still flat stomach and the perfect curve of her breasts. Her eyes were closed, lips parted. When she licked her lips, Killian followed suit, burying his face in her cunt, tongue licking at the sensitive skin. Emma yelped above him, but it melted into a moan quickly as she gave herself over to the sensations.

He'd done this for her many times, albeit from a different position. But he knew all places that drove her wild with want. He sucked her clit into his mouth, teasing the throbbing bud mercilessly with his tongue and teeth. Emma bucked in his hold, trying to fuck his mouth with her hips, but he held her firmly, thoroughly enjoying the moans and curses that filled the air.

"Fuck...Killian...gods," she gasped. "Feels so good."

Not through with her yet, he released her clit with groan. "Touch yourself, Emma," he ordered. "Twirl those pretty nipples for me." He would make this good for her, but it was fine balance, his own need sitting on a knife's edge. The sooner he got her off, the better.

Emma nodded furiously, one hand letting go of the headboard and falling unerringly to her breast. She palmed it, moaning, kneading the soft flesh as Killian had earlier. Satisfied, Killian resumed his task, plunging his tongue into her dripping entrance and fucking her just like he had in her dream. He worked her vigorously from top to bottom, feeling the tension in her body increase, her sounds of pleasure get louder.

"So fucking close," Emma whimpered.

Killian moved back to her clit, biting down on it, pinching it between his teeth. Emma screamed above him, hips rocking madly as Killian slid his tongue back inside her, lapping at her release, drawing it out for as long as he could. He heard the wood of the headboard creak ominously until she slumped against it, panting heavily.

Killian gave her a few minutes before he extricated himself out from under her, sitting up to lay her back down on the bed. He settled in close to her, facing her on his side once more. Emma pulled him in for a kiss, unashamedly rubbing her body against his, resuming their dance. He could feel her heart still beating rapidly in her chest, but it was clear that her passion hadn't been slaked. When Emma pulled away for some air, she brought her hand up to swipe her thumb over his lips, which she promptly sucked into her own mouth. "Hmmm."

Killian groaned, thinking of something else she could have in her mouth. "Emma..."

Her small delicate hand moved between them, fingers wrapping around his cock. "What?"

"You are bloody insatiable, lass."

"Comes with my delicate condition. And you, husband, have been awfully patient. Let me?"

He rocked into her hand, eyes fluttering closed. "As long as I get inside you, I don't bloody care." He'd been craving it ever since she'd first moaned his name, but Killian was a gentleman, seeing to his lady's needs before his own. But if she was offering...

Still on their sides, Killian felt her slip his legs between hers. His cock brushed against her slick folds—gods, she really was insatiable, wet for him again already—a strangled grunt tearing from his throat. She guided him to her, legs coming up to wrap loosely around his hips as he slid inside. Killian opened his eyes at last, grabbing a hold of some of her hair and pulling her down into a fierce kiss. "Gods, I love you." He punctuated his declaration with a thrust of his hips, slipping in even deeper. He didn't have to go fast like this; Killian was more than willing to take his time now that he was finally where he wanted to be.

He took her with slow deep thrusts, touching everywhere he could reach. He buried his face in her chest, biting and sucking at whatever skin her could reach, taking particular delight in her keening cries as he manipulated her hard peaks with both mouth and hand.

"Fuck, just like that," Emma said, her hand threaded into his dark hair, back arching. "So good, Killian."

Pregnancy had obviously loosened her tongue, as she was becoming more vocal and assertive in their love making, which Killian loved. He loved seeing her lose control and know it was all because of him; he had from their very first time. She was his and he wanted the whole world to know it.

"That's it, love," he mumbled against her skin. "Let me hear what I do to you."

He picked up his pace at last; he wasn't going to last much longer, her breathy wanton cries ringing in his ears. "Faster," she begged. "Oh gods, Killian. Faster."

He headed her plea the only way he could; Killian rolled them onto Emma's back, where he could plunge into her with complete abandon, giving them to the release they needed so badly. They came together, Emma's body quivering with the force of her climax, mouth open in a silent scream. Killian grunted loudly, spilling himself inside her at last, his head resting on her shoulder. He barely had the presence of mind to roll off her, not wanting to crush her in her condition.

"That was..." Emma began, her breathing still labored, "a nice wake up call."

Killian grunted. "I hope milady is satisfied?"

Emma gave him a breathy chuckle. "Yeah." She looked over at him with those beguiling green eyes. "You don't always have to indulge me, you know."

Killian reached over, laying his stump across her stomach. "I'm your husband; it's my duty, Emma. It's highly unlikely I'll ever turn down a chance to be with you, lass. You're my siren, remember?"

"I remember."

Killian yawned. "Although, I wouldn't say no to a little nap right now, love." He moved closer to her, nuzzling her shoulder. The sun was still barely up; they could sleep for a little while yet.

Somehow, Emma managed to pull the blanket back up. "Sounds good to me."

"Come on, Killian! You promised!"

Killian rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I know I did, love. Can't we do it another day?"

She frowned at him. "You've been saying that every day since my birthday. It's not that bad, is it?"

"I still don't see why what I have isn't good enough," he groused.

Emma wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tight. "I know all of this is a pain. Why do you think I ran away?"

Killian chuckled, cradling her head against his chest. "I'm sorry I'm being such a berk about this, Emma." He kissed the top of her head. "We can do it today. But not all day, mind."

Her face lit up as she smiled at him. Gods, he would do anything she asked if she looked at him like that. "I promise."

He let go of her and offered her his arm. "Then lead on, princess."

A half hour later, Killian found himself standing on a heavy wood stool, stripped to the waist as Maria—who as it happened was the Queen's personal seamstress—poked and prodded him, measuring and evaluating. He tried to bear it with good humor, but wasn't entirely sure he succeeded. Maria didn't seem to talk much; Emma sat on a small couch watching and teasing him, clearly admiring the view.

They tried several shirts on him, but none of them fit. Every time he put his left arm in, the fabric tore. Cursing, Killian threw the shredded cloth on the floor. "I think we're going to have to try again, love," he said to Maria apologetically.

"Maria," Emma said hesitantly, coming over to stand next to the older woman. "Can't you cut Killian a new shirt? One that can accommodate his hook?"

The seamstress looked at him thoughtfully. "I don't see why not. We'll have to make the coat bigger in the sleeve as well." She got her measuring string back out and retook the measurements for his left arm, this time taking his bulky brace into account. "Give me a few hours and I'll have something. We can at least see if the measurement is right. If it is then all I'll need is the Queen's approval."

"Approval? For what?" Killian asked. The Queen may be his mother in law, but he wasn't wearing anything that made him look like some stuffed up peacock.

Maria looked at him sternly. "If you'd come here sooner, Captain, you'd already know that. But I have the designs right here." She moved over to her sewing table and picked up a thick sketchbook.

Killian hopped off his stool, feeling Emma's arm around his waist, her fingers moving over his bare skin in small soothing circles. "Did you know about this, Emma?"

"Why do you think Mother was so anxious to get you here?"

"Am I going to like it?"

"See for yourself."

Maria returned, carefully opening it to the correct page. "I've been making the King and Queen's clothes for twenty years," she said, with a nod to Emma. "And I have to say this is the most...unique challenge I've ever had."

Killian looked down at the page, his eyes widening in surprise. What he saw looked much like his regular clothes, only in blacks and blues, with a high stiff collar and a long coat.

"This one is for the ball," Maria said quietly. "I thought you'd appreciate keeping as much of the pirate as possible, especially for the slightly less formal occasion."

"Aye. Any leather?"

"The trousers will be leather, Captain."

"Show him the other one," Emma interjected. "It's my favorite."

Maria turned the page, revealing what Killian presumed was to be his attire for the wedding. His breath caught in his throat; it looked just like his dress uniform from before the moths had gotten to it, only this time it had a captain's rank attached.

"The princess asked for this specifically. It hadn't seen a uniform like this since King Leopold's day, when I was just a girl."

"Even when I was fresh out of the academy, I doubt my uniform looked this good." He turned to Emma and kissed her temple. "Thank you, love." Then his brow furrowed. "Are your gowns in there?"

"Yes, and no, you can't see them. It's a surprise." She turned back to Maria. "Thank you. The Captain and I will be back later to check on that new shirt." Maria had the sense to know she was dismissed, careful to take the sketchbook with her as she went off to do her work.

"Back later?" Killian asked as soon as they were alone once more. "Are we going somewhere?"

Emma turned until she was facing him, her free hand running up over his chest and curling behind his neck. She pulled enough to drag him down for a kiss. "I've been waiting to do that since you took your shirt off."

Killian curled his braced arm around her waist, pulling her close. "The view was satisfactory then?" he said with a smirk.

"More than."

"Even with this?" Killian asked, bringing his hook back into view.

Emma bit her lip, nodding. "Even with that, but you knew that already, Killian."

Killian gently brushed the cool metal across the curve of her cheekbone. "It's always nice to hear, princess." He lowered his head, kissing her chastely. Emma hummed in pleasure, leaning up on her toes to kiss him back before he could get away from her. She pressed herself against him, hands wandering over his bare skin, leaving streaks of warmth behind. She was a gift, so tactile and loving, he couldn't get enough.

He wasn't sure how long they were like that—he just couldn't seem to stop kissing her—only breaking apart when they distinctly heard someone clear their throat loudly from behind them. Killian groaned inwardly when his eyes lit upon the Queen, looking discreetly away. Emma flushed pink, reluctantly stepping back. Killian looked around for his shirt, finding it draped over a stool, and quickly yanked it over his head.

"Is everyone decent now?" Snow White asked.

"There's no need to hide your blushing eyes, your highness," Killian said.

To his surprise, Snow laughed. "I was merely being polite. I remember what it was like to be young and in love, Captain."

Emma was still blushing; it wasn't the first time her mother had witnessed them kissing, but then again Killian hadn't been half naked at the time. He put his arm around Emma and eased her into his side. "To what do we owe the pleasure?" he asked, trying to steer the conversation into a less embarrassing direction.

"I've been looking for you everywhere, you know. Imagine my surprise when Greta informed me that you were here with her mother, finally allowing the poor woman to do her job," Snow said with mock sternness.

Killian scratched behind his ear nervously. "Yes, well, Emma was very...persuasive this morning."

"How did it go?"

Emma spoke up for the first time. "We didn't take his brace into account. Maria's making him a new shirt right now."

Snow's eyes fell to the glint of metal at Emma's waist. "See, Captain? This is why we needed you here. No matter, Maria will have everything sorted soon enough." She smiled at them, finally holding out the mysterious box she was carrying. "I came though to bring you this. Granny sent it."

Killian's brow creased, but Emma's face lit up. "Already? I wasn't expecting this for months yet!"

"What is it?" Killian asked.

Emma tore open the box, pulling at the thin paper. The rest of the box fell to the floor as she took a hold of the woolen mass that the box contained. Emma unfolded it so Killian could see what it was.

It was a blanket, specifically a baby's blanket. This one was white with five blue anchors painstakingly woven into it. And up in the right hand corner it read "Liam."

"The anchors were Granny's idea," Snow said quietly. "Since my grandson will almost certainly have the sea in his blood."

"It goes with your necklace," Killian said, leaning in next to Emma's ear. His arms went around her, holding her from behind as they stared at the gift. "That's our family, Emma." It was the first tangible proof that it was really happening, that they truly were going to have a child. And Killian found himself blinking back tears. Everything he'd ever wanted was right in front of him.

Killian tried to keep that thought with him over the next few days. He had everything he wanted. A woman who loved him madly, that he loved just as madly in return, they were expecting a child together. Killian had a family—a true family—for the first time since his beloved brother's death. No, longer than that. Since his mother's death. Charlotte Jones had been the glue that kept the Jones family together, once she passed the facade fell away and everything went to hell. Killian's life had been one adventure after another, never staying too long in one place. Until now.

The two months they'd spent in the castle had been the longest Killian had stayed anywhere since his stint in the naval academy.

Curiously, it didn't feel like that long. The time seemed to have passed quite without Killian's knowledge, caught up as he'd been with Emma's health and getting to know his in laws. Early on, there were days he and Emma hadn't even left their suite, preferring to remain as they had been much of the time since they met: wrapped up in one another. Being with her in any form was intoxicating, a place Killian would much rather be than anywhere else.

And yet, he couldn't deny that he missed the sea. He missed being in a new place almost every day, not knowing what was in the next port. No two days at sea were ever the same and Killian missed that. Sometimes Emma caught him staring out at the bay from their balcony and she'd wrap her arms around him, a tangible reminder of why he was here and why he stayed. She was his home now; he belonged wherever his princess happened to be.

"This seat taken?"

Killian looked up from his tumbler; the King stood next to Killian's table, a bottle of rum in his hands. "As long as you're buying, your highness," he quipped, gesturing at the bench across from him.

David sat, grabbing a glass of his own from one of the bar wenches as she passed. He poured a couple of fingers worth into the glass before refilling Killian's. "You're a long way from the castle, Captain," David observed quietly.

"Getting a bit crowded in there, mate," Killian replied, taking a swig of rum. He relished the burn as it went down.

"With the ball a little over a week away, it's not likely to let up anytime soon."

"Duly noted."

"Where's Emma? I thought you'd be with her. You two are practically attached at the hip most days."

"Your dear wife dragged her off for another fitting of her bloody gown," Killian complained. Emma had meant to accompany him—today of all days, knowing how hard it would be—but had been overruled by the Queen.

"I heard you finally bowed to the inevitable the other day," David said with a knowing grin.

"Aye. Couldn't put off any longer. I'm rather fond of my head where it is, thanks."

"Snow can get a bit...obsessive, I think is the word," David replied. Killian didn't miss how the King's eyes darted around, almost as if he expected his wife to jump out at him. "Her father had a reputation as a good and welcoming host; she feels obligated to follow in his footsteps. Her mother as well. She lost them both fairly young."

"My mother died when I was just a boy."

"I'm sorry."

"I had my brother; he looked after me, got me my commission."

"He sounds like an honorable man."

"He was." Killian was grateful that Emma had suggested honoring Liam by passing on the name to their son. He could think of no better tribute to the man who raised him, for all intents and purposes.

They drank in silence for a while; Killian got the feeling the conversation wasn't finished. He wasn't feeling particularly chatty, but if the King had come all the way out to the village to find him, then he had a reason.

"So why are you really here, Captain?"

"Can't a man drink in peace?"

"I noticed some of your crew down by the docks on my way," David replied, undeterred by Killian's tone.

"Emma sent you, didn't she?"

David merely nodded. "She was worried about you."

"And you wanted to make sure that I was staying," Killian shot back.

David downed the rest of his drink in one swallow. "I know we didn't get off on the right foot, Killian. However, I know what I saw. You woke Emma with True Love's Kiss and I know you'd rather die than leave her."

Killian sighed, ashamed at his outburst. "Today I settle the fate of the Jolly Roger, mate."

"What did you decide?"

Killian poured himself some more rum. "I'm keeping her. Emma, as it happens, was quite insistent on it."

David smiled. "That sounds like her. Stubborn, just like her mother."

"Aye. She is that."

"What about your crew?"

"That, as they say, is the rub."

"How so?"

"Most pirate crews are a rag tag bunch, mate. Cobbled together from prizes, only loyal to the man who brought them on. When I took over the Jewel and rechristened her the Jolly Roger, I already had a loyal crew. But over the years most of them have either died or moved on. What I have now is something different altogether." The disloyalty of Randle still rankled, even though he didn't doubt the rest. But those men had signed on to be pirates, not sailors on a glorified yacht.

"There was trouble, wasn't there?"

"A little. Emma acquitted herself quite well, thanks to you." Killian didn't want to get into the gory details, especially since the man in question was long dead. "But she earned the respect of my men. When I was incapacitated, she bloody well took over my ship!"

"She reminds me so much of Snow," David said thoughtfully. "Especially now."

"I don't think Emma realizes just how powerful she is."

"If you're talking about the magic..."

Killian shook his head. "No, mate. Although she's bloody magnificent in that as well. I mean her. She...inspires people. Look, when she came aboard, she insisted on working. It wasn't a pleasure cruise. Bloody hell, she saved my life. You see her in her element and she inspires loyalty, you want to follow her wherever she leads. It's a rare gift in one so young."

"She never seemed interested...before."

"She doesn't want it. Any of this." Killian knew Emma was terrified of her powers, didn't want the responsibility that came with them. But he was determined to be there for her in every way he could. "But it's in her blood; I don't want her to be anything less than the incredible woman I fell in love with. I recognized it the moment I saw her."

"At a trial where you were sentenced to death," David quipped.

"Aye. I know I don't deserve her. I'm just a lowly pirate. But I'll be at her side as long as she wants me."

David poured himself another drink as well. "When I met Snow, I had been pretending to be a prince for only a few weeks. Had no idea what I was doing. I grew up on a farm, shepherding sheep, for gods' sake! What did I know? Then I met a bandit princess and everything made sense. I knew that no matter what else I did with my life, as long as Snow was in it that was all that mattered. Learning the ins and outs of being a prince came later."

"Did it get easier?"

"Eventually." David tapped the table thoughtfully. "She's better with you, Killian. And you love her. That's all I ever wanted, for my daughter to be loved the way she deserved."

"I'll spend my life making sure she remains so."

Bugger, it's cold out here, Killian thought as he stood on the deck of the Jolly Roger. Not even the rum he had consumed earlier with the King was doing much to warm him. That's what he got for being outside with an open shirt that bared half his chest, he supposed. Gods, Jones, maybe you are going soft.

He looked back toward the castle, suppressing a shiver. He could just make out the balcony to the suite he shared with Emma. She was surely still somewhere deep in the bowels of the castle with her mother being poked and prodded with pins, much like he had been a few days ago. He missed her, even though she was only a long walk away. He missed her whenever she wasn't at his side and that more than anything let him know that this was the right decision. A decision he'd made long ago, if he was being completely honest with himself. He would give up whatever it took to be at her side, even being a pirate.

"Everyone's here, Cap'n," Smee said, just below him. Alright, time to get this done. You've made your choice, now they have to make theirs.

Killian took a deep breath and looked out over his assembled crew. He'd known most of them for years, even though only a handful remained from the Jewel's original crew. He'd very rarely had a man leave for so called greener pastures, something he'd always taken pride in. Because it meant that he was the best. But now he was done. He'd found a greater calling than petty thievery, based in revenge. Killian finally had what he'd dreamed of for so long, a family. And now he had to say goodbye to his other family.

"I suppose you're all wondering why I've called you here," he began, his voice booming through the chilly air. This was so different from the last time, when he'd commandeered the Jewel and declared them pirates. But it had to be done.

"Where's the princess?" Harrison asked.

Killian snorted, actually surprised at the question. But then he remembered, Harrison was fond of Emma. Perhaps he would be one of the ones that stayed. "Preparing for her welcome home ball, I expect. But she is well, if that's what you're asking." After the way Emma had announced that she was pregnant, it was impossible for it to be kept from the crew. Perhaps it would make this easier.

There was a general mumble from the crew, as men whispered among themselves. Killian waited for it to die down before continuing. "Mates, there's no easy way to say this, so I'll just be out with it. The Jolly Roger will no longer be a pirate vessel. Seeing as to Emma's delicate condition, I've decided to stay with her here, where she can be looked after until the birth of our son."

"Well done, Cap'n!" one of the men in the back yelled. Everyone, including Killian, laughed.

"I'll be sure to share those sentiments with my wife, Haynes," Killian replied with a grin.

"But what happens to us?" another voice asked. Killian looked; it was Lucas. The lad was hardly more than twenty; he'd only been on the Jolly for about two years.

"That, Mr. Lucas, is why I've assembled you here. I won't order any of you to stay. You all came aboard for your own reasons. You've been a good and loyal crew. But you signed on to be pirates and that is a life I can no longer live. So now you have a choice. You can remain on my crew and be paid a decent wage or if you desire to leave and make your own way in the world, I will grant you your share of the booty in the Jolly's hold."

"What about the ship?" Gilbert asked.

"This ship belongs to me," Killian said firmly. "If you wish to find a place on another man's crew, then that is entirely up to you. But the Jolly will no longer be flying the crimson flag."

Killian stepped down and retired to the captain's quarters. Mr. Smee could answer any other questions they had. He couldn't make any man's decision for them. If any of them wished to continue the pirate's life they would have to do it somewhere else. Killian had made his choice.

In the end, ten decided to stay on, including Mr. Smee and Harrison. A couple, including Lucas, it seemed had found sweethearts in the village so they decided to stay as well. It was honestly more than Killian had expected. He spent the rest of the afternoon dividing up the treasure down in the hold for those leaving, saying goodbye to each man personally. As he looked in their eyes, there were a least a few who were going to find another ship as soon as they could, go back to the pirate's life. It surely had to be for some reason other than money because each man carried away a small fortune. But that was no longer his concern.

"I think that's the last," Smee said, looking up from his account book.

"Make a list of those who are staying," Killian said. "And give them their first week's wages." He'd make sure they got put on the royal payroll as soon as he returned to the castle.

"Never thought this would happen," Smee said, as he scribbled. "The Jolly at a royal dock."

"Neither did I, Mr. Smee. Neither did I." But Killian wouldn't change it for the world.

In spate of cruel irony, it was Killian who couldn't sleep that night. Emma had finally gotten her nightmares under control; she lay peacefully next to him, golden hair turned silver in the moonlight. He stared at her sleeping form for a long time, trying to will himself to sleep, but it never seemed to come.

For the first time in many years, he felt rudderless, without purpose. He'd been a pirate for so long, to finally say goodbye to that, to make it official, was clearly messing with his head. He knew without doubt that he'd made the right decision. Being a pirate wasn't all that he was, not anymore. Now he was a husband. Soon, he would be a father. He had a family to think of, a life to life with Emma and whatever children they had. And he was happy. He really was. It was just going to take some getting used to.

Reluctantly, Killian decided to take a walk. It was very late, surely most of the castle would be asleep now. But he couldn't seem to shut down his thoughts. Perhaps a walk through the maze of the castle would clear his head. He checked on Emma; she appeared to be fast asleep. If he was lucky, she wouldn't even know he'd been gone. Killian pressed a butterfly kiss to her forehead and got out of bed. He pulled on his trousers and a shirt, adding his coat for good measure. The fire had gone out in the fireplace; it was becoming bitterly cold at night here in early November. He slipped on his boots and grabbed a candle off the nightstand, intending to light it once he was in the hallway, not wishing to wake his sleeping wife.

Once he was outside their room, he just wandered. He didn't have a destination in mind; he just walked. Eventually Killian found himself at the back doors to the Great Hall. He looked around, but saw no one. He pushed open the door and went inside.

The moon was so bright outside that he no longer needed his candle. He sat it aside and headed deeper into the cavernous room. The last time he'd been in here Emma was learning magic with that damnable fairy, Tinkerbell. He smiled at the memory, watching her open and close the gigantic main doors, changing the colors in the stained glass. Killian was sure she was only beginning to scratch the surface of what she could do, something that she very likely would pass on to their boy.

Seeing the room from this perspective was something altogether different. The way he had come in was the royal entrance, where the King and Queen would enter. Instead of approaching the dais from the front as he had all those months ago in chains, he came at it from behind. The three thrones—Emma's was just slightly smaller than the ones for her parents—loomed large in the moonlight, bigger than he remembered. He ran his hand over the armrest of Emma's, a picture of how she had looked the first time he'd ever seen her flickering in his mind.

She'd seemed not altogether real that day, dressed in a gown of light blue, a small tiara on her golden head. Taken his breath away almost instantly, thoroughly beguiling him. He hadn't known it then but that one look had sealed his fate.

And now he expected to be at her side always. Killian had married his princess and now he was here, standing next to her throne in the middle of the night. What the buggering hell? How had his life changed so much in less than a year? That day in this very room had only been about seven months ago, but it felt like a lifetime. He'd gone from pirate to the husband of a princess and one day Emma would be Queen. What did that make him?

I met a bandit princess and everything made sense. I knew that no matter what else I did with my life, as long as Snow was in it that was all that mattered.

David's words echoed in Killian's head. The King had once found himself in Killian's position. A commoner who'd fallen in love with a princess. Granted, Killian's past was a bit more...colorful, but the point remained. Surely, if a shepherd could find his way, Killian could. He was used to leading men, had done it all his adult life. Emma was all that mattered. He would support her in every way, as a Queen, as a wife, as a mother, as the incredible woman who believed he was worthy of being loved. Still...trying out the King's throne couldn't hurt.

Feeling a bit mischievous, Killian wandered over to the large throne and sat. He almost expected it to buck him off or something equally heinous or undignified, but nothing happened. He certainly didn't feel different. Or more powerful or...anything really. It was just a chair. A symbol of power.

"It suits you."

Killian looked up, off to his left Emma stood, holding a candle in her hand. Naked when he left her, she was dressed in a long nightdress, hair tousled from sleep. She looked ethereal in the dim light, more like a siren than ever.

"You should be sleeping, love."

"So should you."

"Point taken."

"I woke up and you weren't there."

"I'm sorry, lass. Is everything alright?" he asked, getting up hastily. Gods, what if she had woken up from one of her nightmares and he hadn't been there?

Emma sat down her candle and wrapped her arms around him. "We're both fine," she mumbled against his chest. "I just missed you."

He dropped a kiss on top of her head. "I just needed to clear my head, darling. But I shouldn't have left you."

"It's okay. You can make it up to me."

The corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. "And how would the princess suggest I do that?"

"Kiss me?"

Killian cupped her cheek with his good hand and tipped her face up. He lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. They were just as soft and sweet at the first time he'd kissed her, despite the almost overwhelming lust he'd felt at the time. The memory of her kiss haunted him for weeks after, nearly driving him mad.

This time he was in no hurry, kissing her slowly, breathing her in, tasting her, recommitting her to memory. Emma deepened the kiss, fingers curling into his shirt, moving up on her toes to get closer to him. Killian moaned softly, fingers toying with her hair, moving along her jaw. His left arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer until their bodies were flush. They broke apart for only a moment, soft smiles on their faces, Killian going back for more.

He shivered, feeling Emma's nimble fingers slip under his shirt. "What are you up to, love?" he asked, lips ghosting over her jaw and down the column of her throat.

Her hands moved over his back, kneading his skin, nail scratching. "Do you remember your promise?"

"Which promise is that, love?"

"To fulfill my...what did you call them...racy fantasies?"

Killian groaned. He did remember. And when he further remembered where they were he bit his lip. "You are a wanton woman, Emma."

"You love it."

"Gods, I really do." He moved back to her lips, kissing her passionately. Her fingers slipped below the waistband of his pants, teasing the skin and driving him crazy. This was incredibly reckless—not to mention highly undignified—but gods, he wanted it. He wanted her just as much as he had that night so long ago. He let her back him up toward the throne he had vacated, her hands fumbling with the laces of his pants.

Emma shoved his pants down his hips and gave him a push. "Sit," she ordered.

Killian sat but close to the edge, legs spread. He watched Emma as she licked her lips, eyes riveted to his straining length. She pulled her nightdress up around her knees and sank down between his legs. They were actually going to do this; Emma was actually going to suck him off right there in the Great Hall. Gods, there wasn't a more perfect woman in the whole of creation than her. "Emma..."

"Shh," she said quietly. "Don't want to get caught."

"But prospect of getting caught is half the fun, darling," he countered, smirking down at her.

"I know." She wrapped her hand around him and began to stroke him slowly, her thumb sweeping over the tip with practiced ease. "You can return the favor another time, Captain."

"As you wish, your highness." His style of address was purposeful, knowing exactly where they were.

Emma knelt down, kissing the inside of his thighs. "It's Emma," she reminded him. Then she wrapped her lips around him and took him deep into her mouth. Killian let out a strangled groan, knowing he needed to keep quiet, never his strong suit. Her warm wet mouth surrounded him, her head bobbing slowly in his lap. Killian slid his hand into her hair, more for something to hold onto than to guide her. Emma knew him too well for that.

"Such a sweet mouth, Emma," he muttered, straining to keep his hips still. "So warm and wet."

Emma hummed in acknowledgment, her tongue swirling around him. She teased his tip, cheeks hollowing out as she sucked, making his eyes roll back in his head. "Fuck, Emma." His fingers tightened in her hair, pushing down a bit. He needed so much more.

Emma scooted closer to him, her free hand coming up to fondle his balls, thumb pressing on the spot at the base of his cock. He nearly shouted, but he remembered just in time, the sound coming out more like a stunted grunt. His hips rocked up into her mouth, unable to stop. He looked down at her, panting, trying to focus on not choking her.

"Touch yourself, love," he whispered. "Come undone for me." Everything seemed to turn her on lately; she had to be aching to be touched. He groaned in satisfaction when he saw her hand yank on her nightdress and slip underneath the pooling fabric. Emma groaned around him; he could picture in his head exactly what she was doing. She slowed down only a bit as she figured out how to pleasure both of them at the same time. "That's it, darling. Gods, you are so bloody gorgeous like this." A goddess at his feet.

Emma picked up her pace again, little groans and mewls humming across his sensitive skin as Emma touched herself in time to her movements. She licked and sucked at his cock, tongue tapping on the spot just below the head. He could feel his orgasm building, balls tightening, hips rocking faster. "Faster, Emma. So close."

She complied, head bobbing even faster, taking him as deep as she could. When he felt the head brush the back of her throat, Killian lost control, biting his lip as he came, hips coming up almost completely off the damned throne. Emma sucked him dry, her lithe body trembling as she fell over the edge right after him.

Killian sagged back against the hard back of the throne, spent. Emma released him, resting her head on his thigh. They stayed like that for a while, just trying to get their breath back. Killian stroked her hair idly, in awe that they had just done that. "You are incredible, lass," he said quietly.

"Hmm," Emma replied, still breathing heavily. "Thank you."

"I do believe you have that backwards, princess."

Emma chuckled quietly. "I don't think I'll ever be able to look at this the same way again," she said, tapping the throne with her finger.

"I think we should be more worried about your father finding out."

"True."

"I, of course, will protest that I was merely obeying the orders of my princess."

Emma smacked his thigh lightly. "Very funny, Captain."

"What? It's true."

"You're incorrigible."

"But you love me."

She looked up at him, her green eyes pale in the moonlight. "I do."

"Just as I love you." He sat up. "Come, love, I think it's time for us to get back to bed." He helped her stand, then stood himself, tucking himself back into his pants, pulling the laces tight once more. Then he scooped Emma up and carried her back to their suite, laughing as she summoned their long burnt out candles with magic.

Needless to say, they slept very late the next day.