"I'm nervous," Emma's hands covered her stomach as the butterflies were getting the best of her as her mother fussed over her dress.
"Is it nerves or morning sickness?" Mary Margaret asked quietly so that the guests gathering outside wouldn't hear their discussion.
Even though Emma had told Henry about their impending new addition to the family, Emma and Killian had agreed to keep the news quiet until after the wedding.
"Nerves," Emma replied, "I'm certain of it."
"There is nothing to be nervous about," her mother gave her a reassuring smile, "All you have to do is stand before our family and friends and profess your love for Killian. That should be the easiest thing you'll do today."
"I'm more worried about tripping over this dress or vomiting on it."
"Focus on Killian," her mother advised her, "If you get nervous and feel like you might get sick, just look into his eyes."
"That would be easier if you'd let me see him before the ceremony," Emma replied.
"It's bad luck," was Mary Margaret's simple response.
"And we've had enough of that to last a lifetime," Emma sighed.
There was a soft knock at the door and then Regina popped her head in tentatively. "May I have a minute with the bride?"
"As long as no curses are going to be cast," Mary Margaret cautioned the town's mayor. Mary Margaret stayed put as Regina stepped into Killian's quarters, which had been turned into the bridal suite for the day.
"May we have a minute?" Regina motioned Mary Margaret away.
"Anything you have to say to Emma you can say to me," Mary Margaret stood frozen in place.
Regina hesitated, waiting for Emma to confirm her mother's stance.
"It's okay," Emma replied, "She's given her two cents already, and she'll likely give it again."
"I have a wedding present for you," Regina smiled apprehensively as she handed Emma a scroll of parchment.
"What is it?" Mary Margaret looked over her daughter's shoulder as Emma pulled the ribbon away and pulled it open.
"It's a spell to replace your groom's hand as we discussed," Regina explained, "Surprisingly it's a simple spell. Even a novice should be able to cast it."
"A novice like me," Emma concluded.
"All you need is a lock of hair from the person that took your beloved's hand or one of his descendants. Killian needs to hold the lock of hair as you say the spell," Regina added, "It may be painful at first, but the limb should be replaced immediately."
"Are you really still thinking about this?" Mary Margaret gasped, "What about the dark side of magic? There is always a price to be paid."
"I believe that price has already been paid," Regina stated, "Because of Hook, Henry was returned to Storybrooke safe and sound. I will ask nothing more of him or Emma."
"No," Mary Margaret shook her head vigorously, "It's never that simple. There's a catch. There has to be."
"I've done the research," Regina insisted, "There are multiple accounts in my books of this spell being used. None of them reference any downside. Sometimes it is this simple."
"So I need a lock of Gold's hair or the hair of his son or grandson. Killian holds the hair. I say this spell and poof he has a new hand," Emma responded skeptically.
"I don't know if there will be a poof," Regina stated, "But yes, that's what should happen."
"This is in Latin," Mary Margaret stated as she read over Emma's shoulder, "For all we know, this is an attempt for you to recast the curse that sent us here in the first place."
"I don't blame you for not trusting me. I've given everyone many reasons not to. You can translate it if you'd like to double check, but you have my word that this spell will do only what it was intended to do," Regina replied, "It is my wedding gift to the biological mother of my son, nothing more."
"Thank you, Regina," Emma stated as she allowed the paper to curl into a scroll once more.
"And congratulations, Sheriff Swan," Regina stated, "I can't say much for your taste in grooms, but I hope you two will be very happy together."
Emma nodded as Regina turned to leave.
"One last thing, Sheriff," Regina turned around, "The spell must be spoken by one that feels true love towards the recipient."
"So no pressure or anything," Emma released a shaky breath as Regina left.
"You can't be thinking about..." Mary Margaret began.
"We've already had this discussion," Emma silenced her mother, "If this is what Killian wants, I'm going to give it a try. This is his choice to make, not mine, certainly not yours."
Henry came in to announce everyone was ready for the ceremony to start, which silenced any further conversation that mother and daughter had left.
The ceremony went by in a blur. Killian looked gorgeous in the simple modern day suit that he'd selected for the ceremony. The service was short and sweet. The reception afterwards was just as simple. It was everything that Emma never thought she'd ever have or want. As the sun set for the evening, the newlyweds retired to their cottage emotionally exhausted.
"So do I call you Mrs. Jones now?" Killian smiled into her neck as they watched the sun slip from the horizon as they stood on the roof of their cottage as he pulled the pins from her hair so that her golden curls could fall to her shoulders. In his eyes, she'd never looked more beautiful than that day. She'd been radiating happiness all day.
"Swan-Jones," she shook her head.
"That's quite a mouthful," he chuckled.
"Emma," she touched his chin, "Call me Emma."
"Emma," he whispered in her ear, "Always and forever my Emma."
"I like the forever part," she smiled as she turned towards him, her smile still in place, "I have a wedding gift for you."
"Are giving of gifts traditional amongst the bride and groom?" he inquired.
"Yes," she nodded, "So you better have gotten me one."
"It's not exactly a gift that you'll be able to hold," he told her as he unbuttoned a few of his shirt buttons, "But it will be yours forever."
"I'm not taking your heart to put in a box," she told him.
"Wasn't my thought," he told her as he revealed his chest to her.
"Is that?" she caressed his chest softly, tracing the letters of her name inked over his heart.
"So that anyone that tries to take my heart knows exactly who it belongs to," he told her as he brought her fingers to his lips, taking the time to kiss each one.
Killian's gesture brought tears to her eyes as she smiled brightly.
"And my gift?" he prompted her.
"Hold this," Emma thrust a lock of her son's hair into his hand as she pulled out the scroll Regina had given her before the ceremony.
"Is this Henry's?" he looked at it in confusion at the strands of hair in his hands.
"Willingly donated," Emma nodded as she took a deep breath, "Stop talking. I have to say this."
"Say what?" he asked, "You can tell me anything."
"It's nothing I have to tell you, just stop talking," she replied.
"I don't unders…" he was silenced as she brought her hand to cover his mouth.
"Here is your first tip to a successful marriage. When your wife tells you to stop talking, you stop talking," she replied, "Now I'm going to read this, and you are going to remain completely silent as I do this."
"And this is my present?" he asked skeptically.
"Yes," she scowled at him. When he remained silent, she inhaled nervously. This wasn't just a test of her magical abilities, but also a test of her love. If it worked, he was her true love. If it didn't, he was simply her love. She didn't want to think of the ramifications of that.
Killian said nothing more as he held the lock of Henry's hair in his hand. He wondered if her gift had something to do with their child. Perhaps she was going to show him a preview of what he or she would look like. He was lost in his own fantasy when searing pain erupted from his left arm, pain that brought him literally to his knees as his hook fell to the floor with a loud clank.
"Emma," he doubled over in pain as Emma read the last word.
"Oh my, Killian, are you okay?" her hand went to his shoulder as a warm glow surrounded him.
The pain Killian felt subsided almost as quickly as it came. Just as he was about to ask Emma what she'd done, he felt a sensation he hadn't truly felt in three hundred years…the night air against the fingertips of his left hand…a hand, his hand.
"Emma," he gasped as he wiggled and flexed his fingers, the new limb following his every command.
"It worked!" Emma exclaimed as she dropped the scroll and threw her arms around him.
"How?" he asked as he continue to flex his fingers.
"Regina gave me the spell," she explained as she brought his hand to her stomach so that the first thing he truly felt was the slight bump of their child growing inside her.
"What about the price to be paid?" Killian asked.
"She said that you'd already done more than necessary," Emma replied.
"I can't believe this," he laughed as he hugged her tight.
"You're truly Killian Jones again," she told him, "My one true love."
"Your Killian Jones," he told her as he caressed her cheek with his left hand, relishing the feel against his fingertips. "You feel amazing."
"Let's put this ring where it truly belongs, okay?" she asked as she pulled his wedding band from his right hand.
Killian nodded as he held his hand still for a moment for her to slip the ring.
"Take me to bed," she suggested as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, "Let's put that hand through its paces."
"As you wish, Love," he replied as he lifted her into his arms and carried her off to bed.
"Good morning, Love," Killian caressed her shoulder softly as her eyes began to flutter open in the early hours of their first morning as a husband and wife.
"Morning," she responded softly even though her smile was lighting up the room.
"How'd you sleep?" he asked.
"Never slept better," she smiled as she nudged her nose into his chest to take in his natural scent, "You?"
"First night as a married man," he chuckled, "Best bloody night of sleep ever."
"How's that hand treating you?" she asked as she spotted the band of gold around a finger of his left hand.
Killian's hand flexed in response as he took in its appearance. Had he not spent three hundred years staring at a hook, he never would have thought his hand had been missing. It looked identical to his right hand, complete with the calluses earned from hard work aboard the Jolly Roger. "Feels a little foreign yet."
"Missing the hook?" she asked as she ran the tip of her finger in random patterns along his chest, nudging the bed sheets lower down his torso. She took a few minutes to take in the new tattoo on his chest with her name covering his heart.
"It does grow on a person after three hundred years," he chuckled.
"If you want, I can cut your hand off again," she offered with a twinkle in her eyes.
"Don't even think about it," he told her as he entwined his hand into hers and rolled over until she was pinned to the bed beneath him. "Please tell me there is nowhere we have to be today."
"Nope," she shook her head, "It's just you and me today. I was able to convince my mom to hold off on opening presents for a couple of days. My dad is covering at the station. Henry is staying at Regina's. Anyone that comes knocking today has less than honorable intentions and isn't worth speaking to."
"Good, because I'm not allowing you to leave this bed today," he told her as he dipped his head to kiss along her collarbone.
"All day?" she asked as her fingers tangled into his hair as his teeth scraped against her skin just enough to stoke the fires inside her, "That might be a bit of a problem. We're going to need nourishment and bathroom breaks and perhaps showers."
"Do you always take my words so literally?" he chuckled as he continued on with his roaming lips.
"Killian?" she asked his name as more of a question than he'd expected.
"Yes, my love," he prompted her as he glanced up to gaze deeply into her eyes.
"Is this what true happiness feels like?" she asked, her heart fluttering as his eyes bore in on hers.
"I sure hope so," he replied as he resumed kissing a random pattern along the column of her throat.
"We're going to stay like this, right?"
"I'm pretty sure I'll do or say something in the near future that will twist your lovely panties into a knot," he chuckled, "Remember those hormones we joked about with your mother being pregnant. You have those too."
"I do not!" she gasped.
"Oh, but you do," he assured her as her hand slapped at his shoulder, "And just like her you have no sense of humor about them. Love, this is a wonderful time for us. Let's enjoy this and the hormones that come with it."
"I am not hormonal," she insisted as she crossed her arms over her chest in a huff.
"If it makes a difference, you're very lovely when you're hormonal," he wagged an eyebrow at her.
"It doesn't," she huffed a second time.
"I love you," he stated as he tried to pry her arms away from her chest to give himself access with no success.
"I love you, too," she responded as she kept her limbs firmly planted against her chest, "But right now I'm mad at you."
"For calling you hormonal?" he smirked.
"Yes," she stuck out her lip to pout.
"How foolish of me," he tried to pour on the charm.
"I think I'm going to take one of those showers I mentioned," she responded as she sat up, pushing the covers away.
"What about our day in bed?" he asked as he spun onto his back as she crossed the bedroom, his pathetic pout fixed in place.
"Maybe if you didn't work up such a sweat last night, I'd consider it," she replied as she disappeared into the bathroom. It only took a moment for him to hear the shower starting as he sniffed at his own skin to understand what she was referencing. Near as he could tell, he smelled like he always did. As he lay in bed, he contemplated his options. He thought about going to the kitchen to make them breakfast or possibly joining her in the shower. One thing he knew was that he couldn't simply lie in bed and wait for her.
"You made the bed," Emma frowned as she emerged from the bathroom wrapped up in a towel. She was using another towel to soak up the water in hair. "What happened to spending all day in bed?"
"Last I checked you seemed opposed to that idea," he told her as he stepped into her from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist.
"I never said that," she stated defensively, "I took a shower, and I was rather hoping you'd join me."
"There didn't seem to be that invitation either," he replied as he brushed the hair away from her neck.
"Be the pirate, Killian," she laughed out, "Take charge every now and then. A girl likes that."
"I don't care about any other girls, just my wife, my beautiful, talented, hormonal wife," he punctuated each compliment with a kiss to her neck.
"I am not hormonal," she spun in his arms abruptly. Her eyes were lit with amusement.
"Yes, you are," he insisted as he pecked at her lips, "But I love you anyways."
"Bloody pirate," she rolled her eyes.
"One of those hormones in particular that I love," he paused to kiss her a bit more thoroughly as he searched for the tucked in corner of her towel to free her, "You are insatiable."
"A woman whose thirst for sex suddenly rivals yours. Of course you'd love that," she snickered.
"Your thirst for sex has always rivaled mine," he laughed, "You were just playing hard to get."
Emma wrapped the towel she'd been using to dry her hair around his neck and brought him close so she could whisper in his ear, "I'd love to have those urges satisfied, but you smell. I can't even think about sex until you do something about it."
"Since when don't you enjoy my natural musk?" he inquired as he raised his arm to sniff under his armpit to get a handle on what she could be referring to.
"It's those hormones you love so much," she spoke into his ear, "They give me a super sense of smell. The same thing happened when I was pregnant with Henry. You don't know what a curse it is to have an enhanced sense of smell when you're forced to eat prison food."
"How about you get yourself comfortable in bed," he suggested as he freed her from the towel finally and dropped it to the floor, "I'll give myself a rinse and then we'll see what I can do about satisfying those sexual urges of yours."
"Be a dear and do a bit more than rinse," she requested as she bit down lightly on his earlobe, "Scrub up good."
"As you wish, Love," he tapped her backside affectionate.
Emma wiggled free of his arms and made herself comfortable on their bed as he disappeared into the bathroom. Emma rubbed at her stomach.
"We get to enjoy being pregnant this time, don't we, Little One," she spoke to the baby for the first time. "We get to run daddy ragged with the mood swings and food cravings and have him bend to every one of our whims. He is going to do everything that we ask of him because he loves us so much. Your daddy is going to dote on you. He's going to teach you to sail and, if I let him, fight with swords. Your childhood won't be traditional, but I promise you that you'll be one hundred percent loved."
"Is someone here?" Killian inquired as he stepped out of the bathroom drying himself with a towel.
"Nope," she shook her head, "It's just you and me."
"Then who were you talking to?" he asked as he toss the towel on the floor next to the one she'd been wrapped in earlier and advanced towards her.
Emma began to blush in reply.
"Working on your pillow talk, Love?" he inquired as he laid out next to her.
"Is that a complaint I hear?" she turned the tables quickly to cover her embarrassment.
"I have no complaints about our sex life, Love," he assured her as he ran his hand along her side, his fingertips relishing in the feel of her silken skin, slightly pink and warm from the shower she'd taken.
Emma released a soft gasp as he traced along the underside of her breast. Her eyes closed as she savored the feel. Just the simple touch could spark the fire inside her.
"Who were you talking to?" he asked a second time, his voice soft.
The blush spread as she ducked her head into his chest.
Her avoidance of the issue made him all the more curious. "Are you hiding a lover?"
Emma's response was to simply smack his shoulder.
"Emma, Love," he guided her gaze to his, his crystal clear blue eyes locking with hers.
"I was talking to the baby," she finally answer his question, "And I feel a bit silly about it."
"And why is that?" he asked.
"I don't know," she sighed, "It's just something I've never done before. This is all so new to me. I know I was pregnant before, but I didn't take the time to bond with the baby. I always knew that I was going to give Henry up after giving birth, so I didn't want to get attached."
"We most definitely want to get attached this time," he nuzzled into her neck. His hand drifted to her stomach to run circles into her rising belly. He'd been hesitant to point out that her stomach was beginning to round.
"I want to savor everything about this pregnancy," she told him, "Even the mood swings and strange food cravings."
"What about this bump in your belly?" he asked, "Is that something to savor?"
"Do you really think that's a baby bump?" her eyes twinkled in reply.
"This pleases you," he concluded.
"Yes," she released a giggle as she nodded.
"My swan is as giddy as a little girl," he noted, "This must be one of those mood swings because my swan is never giddy like a little girl."
"Do you want a boy or a girl?" she chose to ignore his teasing.
"You're not going to like me for saying this, but either a boy or girl works for me," he replied.
"That's such a cop out," she groaned.
"Sorry, cop out?" he scratched his temple in confusion.
"I really need to buy you that book of modern slang," she sighed, "It means you took the easy way out of answering the question. You have an opinion, but you just don't want to give it."
"In my day, this wasn't a discussion that was had between a man and the woman carrying his child," he explained.
"How would you know?" she challenged him.
"I may not have been a father before, but I know about these things," he explained.
"Because pirates know all," she rolled her eyes.
"We're not going to get anywhere in this discussion. This is our first full day as husband and wife. Let's not spend it arguing when there are much more pleasurable pursuits we could be enjoying."
"Our first compromise," she smiled as she placed a finger under his chin and drew his lips towards hers.
"Hmmm, I propose we never leave this bed," he hummed against her lips as his hands began to roam her body.
"I'll agree to that," she smiled against his lips.
TBC…
Just the epilogue left. Like I mentioned it might be about two weeks before I can post that.
I hope you have enjoyed this journey. I know I have. Oncers are truly great fans. Thank you so much for the wonderful welcome.