Chapter Twenty Six: Not the Reunion Planned

….

If the curve of you was curved on me

I'd tell you that I loved you before I ever knew you

'Cause I loved the simple thought of you

If our hearts are never broken and there's no joy in the mending

There's so much this hurt can teach us both

There's distance and there's silence, your words have never left me

They're the prayer that I say every day

~New York, Snow Patrol

…..

Emma stared resolutely out to the endless ocean by the railing of her small ship. No word. No signs. No Killian. THere had been dead ends, leads that led nowhere, and false alarms. All it did was rip her away, farther from her love. Part of her longed to give up, to go back home to her family. But her heart would not allow it. It urged her on, taunting her with images of reuniting with him and the subsequent pleasure that would be sure to follow, mocking her pain with visions of his mangled corpse, murdered by some foul person or swallowed by the sea. She would not have that. She could not. She had to hold on to hope, the faith that she felt inside of her, sureness in their love and the certainty of meeting again. After all, she thought with mixed emotion. Happy endings start with hope. But it was hard. Very hard. And yet so very easy for her to perk up her head faster than the crack of a whip and center her full attention on the hand that approached her with a scout at his side.

"Your Highness," the hand said, bowing slightly and then gesturing to the scout. "We bring good tidings."

"Yes?" Emma asked as placidly as she could, though eagerness blossomed in her like a fanned flame.

The scout smiled widely and pointed southwest, where a rocky cove was visible. "We found him, Your Highness. And this time we're sure of it. He's in that small village, and we saw him head into a tavern."

Emma's heart skipped several beats at this news, reaching up to caress the ring pendant that resided on top of her circle necklace and smiling widely. "Good work, men," she said, patting both the hand and the scout on the back. "Weigh anchor here and wait for me to come back."

"You're going by yourself?" the hand asked, and when Emma shot him a pointed look as if to ask "why wouldn't I be?" he nodded and turned around to begin issuing orders to the rest of the crew.

"Wait, Your Highness," the scout said, following her as she leapt down the Quarterdeck. "There's something else."

"What is it?" Emma asked as she prepared to lower a small row boat into the water.

"It didn't seem like any of his crew was with him."

Emma paused, but after a moment continued her work. She didn't know what to think of that, and had to get to Killian first and foremost anyway. "I'll ask him about it," she reassured the scout halfheartedly before giving him a dramatic salute and shoving off.

…

Emma pulled the hood of her cloak up more and took one last deep breath before she entered the tavern. Within were what could be expected: the strong stench of bad dental hygiene, alcohol and cat urine, as well as many surly people. She looked around amongst the rowdy crowd for an exceptionally handsome, ravenhaired pirate but he was nowhere to be seen. Until she spotted a dark figure with a familiar face that was too far to the side of her vision to properly recognize exit the tavern. Hopeful, she followed the unknown person out. But cautious, her hand hovered over the hilt of her blade when she walked outside she glanced around the various couples making out against the tavern's walls until she saw him, leaning against a tree a small distance away. HIs hair seemed shorter than normal, more slick than usual. His eyes were still their beautiful blue but something seemed different about them, though Emma couldn't tell from her vantage point. His long bulky coat had been shed in favor of a look he adorned much like the one he had when she climbed the beanstalk with, him, leather pants billowy shirt and vest with clasps. Except that his vest was made of a patterned black fabric that looked similar to velvet. His necklaces and rings were still the same, though she could see he'd added a new, fancy and flashy piece of jewelry that was clunky golden ring with a skull that had rubies for eyes on it. It was where the ring he gave her had been. There was also a difference with his hook; it wasn't as polished and clean as it usually was. In fact, there appeared to be something on it, something like….dried blood?

Perhaps he'd gotten into a fight, or something worse. Whatever the case, Emma couldn't stand simply watching him anymore. She was about to run straight to him when he turned and began to walk. Curious, Emma followed him until he reached the docks and stopped in front to the gangplank of a huge, black ship with tattered ebony sails. Killian looked like he was about to board it, but instead he tilted his head slightly, and Emma could see the edges of smirk on his face. Abruptly and violently he whipped around with a cry and stopped mere millimeters from gouging into her neck with his hook before recognition flared in his eyes. "Emma?" he asked, confused, and Emma nodded before wrapping her arms around him and squeezing for all she was worth, breathing in his scent and burying her head in his shoulder.

"Jones!" an unfamiliar voice called out. "What's going on? Who's the whore?" Killian stiffened in her arms and before Emma could react he twisted her and him around so that her arms were pinned behind her back against his chest and they were both looking toward the ship. Emma's natural instinct was to kick him where it hurt and run, but this was Killian. They loved each other; she couldn't hurt him. But she didn't know what was going on. Where was the Jolly Roger? It's crew? Why hadn't he hugged or back?

"Killian," she whispered desperately. "What's-"

"Hush," he hissed, no warmth or pleedance in his voice as he pushed her forward roughly along the gangplank toward the ship. It took all Emm had in her not to fight back and then turn tail. He won't hurt me, she assured herself. I need to trust him. Just trust him. And she did, so she let herself be dragged along like a dead she couldn't shake the trepidation and fear swirling in the pit of her stomach. Before she reached the deck, she caught a glimpse of a name on the side of the ship.

The Flying Dutchman.

What. The. Hell?

OOH. AHH. What's going on? What's with Killian and Emma and the Flying Dutchman!? I do so love cliffhangers. We'll just have to wait and see I suppose... On another note, I published the first chapter of my Frozen AU, which IS called Embers in a Blizzard. Check it out if you want, if not, ignore me, and I hoped you enjoyed this chapter!