Author's note: This chapter has a bit more excitement then I initially expected. But I never argue with my muse. She seems to know what she's doing. I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer:I'm old school that way.

Chapter Twenty Nine

Killian stretched his arms over his head, blinking against the sneaky sunshine. The soft wool of the blanket rubbed his chest, reminding him where they were. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but the post coital bliss dragged him under, Emma's soft curves pressed against him. The ground was less forgiving however, Killian groaned as he rolled over, wondering where his princess had gone.

"Emma?"

"Right here." He sat up; she was sitting cross legged a few feet away, his white linen shirt covering her nudity.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep on you, lass," he mumbled, moving over to her and kissing her temple. They'd stolen away in the wee hours of the morning, before most of the castle was awake. A picnic breakfast in a beautiful sanctuary, hidden from prying eyes by her magic. Killian could sense how stifled she felt, forced to be kind and accessible to her suitors, so he'd suggested they go for a ride, just the two of them. A ride became breakfast and breakfast became lazy lovemaking, something they hadn't been able to engage in in the light of day for some time.

She laid her head on his shoulder. "It's okay. You've been busy."

"Sometimes I get the feeling your father is trying to keep me from you," he confided, arms looping around her waist.

"Or perhaps he's trying to get to know you," she suggested. "Someone will need to take over for Liam when he's gone."

"There are far more qualified men than I."

She looked at him, askance. "I think you'd be a wonderful captain."

"That's kind of you to say," he said, flushing. Having his own ship wasn't really an ambition of his; he'd have been content to serve with his brother forever. Until Emma came along, that is. Now, he wanted to serve for a few more years, until they were ready to start their family.

Emma huffed. "You know I'd never just say that." It was one of the things that made this whole charade with her suitors so frustrating. It took a lot to impress her and none of the princes had what it took. Most of them were nice enough, polite; under other circumstances she might even be friends with them. But none of them were her lieutenant.

His hands rested on her flat belly. "I know, love, I know. I guess I don't want to give anyone a reason to resent me. If your father passed over more senior officers, just for me, that wouldn't be fair. Even if it meant I had more time with you."

She loved and hated his honor code. "Well, you're in winter quarters now, Lieutenant. You're mine."

"And gladly so." He kissed her cheek. "Ready to go back?"

She shook her head. "Nope." She turned her head, lips on his. He melted into her, not arguing as she straddled his hips. Her legs wound around his middle and she angled her head to deepen the kiss. She paused only long enough to peel the borrowed shirt from her body. "Make love to me, Killian," she whispered, mouth hot on his neck. He could deny her nothing, even though they would surely be missed soon. Slowly, he stroked and kissed every inch of skin he could reach, until she was pleading, chanting his name. And when he stretched her out on the blanket, hands above her head, and slid into her soft willing body, he couldn't be bothered to give a damn about anything else except bringing his princess pleasure.

It was well after lunch before they left, Emma feeling a twinge of soreness as she mounted her horse. It was very welcome, a reminder she was adored and cherished. She wouldn't even let Killian clean her up; she wanted his seed sliding down her thighs. Almost two weeks of this song and dance and she was ready to scream. It felt like she was in a gilded cage, always trying to keep her real feelings hidden, unable to come and go as she pleased. Forced to sneak her lover into her room, mask her affection for him in public. It was exhausting. When Killian suggested they go riding together, she jumped at the chance. Fortunately, she knew the terrain around the castle well, having explored it as a child. She knew the perfect place where they could be utterly alone.

They rode side by side until the castle came into view, then Emma pulled ahead. If asked, she'd just say she'd wanted to go riding and Killian had gallantly offered to accompany her. There was no harm in that.

"There you are, highness!" one of the grooms called as she cantered up. "Their Majesties have requested your presence as soon as possible."

"What's going on?"

The boy shrugged. "I don't know, milady," he said, taking the bridle of her horse. "I was just told to tell you to make haste."

"Thank you, Benjamin," she said, dismounting. Killian was right behind her, his face worried. "Come with me."

"Em...Highness," Killian said, correcting himself. He couldn't use her name in public, it wasn't seemly. He was so accustomed to not using her title, sometimes he forgot. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Emma rolled her eyes. She was so tired of needing to pretend that Killian was less to her than he was. He was going to be her husband, for gods' sake. The father of her children. "Humor me, Lieutenant."

He nodded, following her into the castle. Once they were out of sight, she squeezed his hand, silently letting him know that whatever was going on she wanted him with her, suitors be damned. They found her parents in the Council chamber; Liam was there too. Liam and a gentleman she didn't know. But he was wearing the insignia of the Southern Isles.

"Emma, Killian," Snow said, looking up from what appeared to be a letter. "There you are."

Emma looked around to make sure they were alone. "We went for a ride early. What's going on?"

David guided their visitor to her. "Emma, this is Lord Sigmund. He's ambassador to the Southern Isles."

Emma curtsied respectfully. She knew he was coming, but she'd held out some hope that he'd simply pass them by and go home. There wasn't any great knowledge she could impart about Hans' final minutes; she'd made peace with her actions. "My lord. It's a shame you are visiting under such tragic circumstances."

Sigmund nodded. He was medium height, brown hair graying at the temples. He looked like a man who had been vigorous in youth, a man gone slightly to seed. He didn't appear threatening; his brown eyes were kind but curious. She could tell he was sizing her up, probably wondering how someone like her could have gotten the better of his prince. "Your Highness, I, too, regret the circumstances of my visit. I must confess that I've wished to see your land for some time; sadly my duties to the King my master have prevented it."

"My lord, may I present Lt. Killian Jones?"

Sigmund bowed slightly in Killian's direction. "The Queen of Arendelle tells me that congratulations are in order."

David colored, but said nothing after Snow placed her hand on his arm. Emma smiled. "That is very kind of you, sir. Although, the official announcement is some weeks away yet."

"Your secret is safe with me, Your Highness."

"Thank you. Now what can I do for you? Surely Queen Elsa told you what happened to poor Hans." Hans was a terrible person. While she was sorry he was dead, she didn't intend to sugarcoat what happened.

"She did. I can not express the horror and chagrin the royal family feels at being represented in such a way. Princes Hans has always been...shall we say...a handful? But the King assures me he had no idea what evil lurked in his son's mind. With so large a family and many duties, the King has not been able to spend as much time with his children as he would wish."

"So he didn't know his son hated magic?"

Sigmund blinked. "If he had, I doubt he would have sent the Prince to Arendelle."

"But the King couldn't have known. No one knew about Elsa's powers aside from her parents, gods rest them. And myself. We've known each other since we were children; she is my closest friend."

"It is admirable for you to be with her at such a time, Highness."

Killian cleared his throat. "All due respect, Ambassador, but magic wasn't the real reason for Prince Hans's deplorable behavior. He wanted to steal Queen Elsa's crown and kingdom!"

Sigmund frowned. "I understand it may have seemed that way..." he began, but it was Liam who cut him off.

"No, sir, my brother is correct. I was there, in the palace, as the princess and my brother searched for Elsa. He subtly undermined her authority, using her distress as an excuse. He kidnapped an anointed queen, imprisoned her, imprisoned me, and tried to kill her."

"And you," Killian added. "He stabbed you and left you to die."

Sigmund blanched. If Elsa told him all of this, why was he surprised? Did he think Elsa lied to him? Emma pressed on. "All of this was before his escape," she said. "Elsa wanted to give him justice, to have him tried fairly. But he escaped and attacked people I love. I did what I had to do, though I took no pleasure in it."

Killian slipped his hand into hers, squeezing gently. "I'm not sure what you hoped to accomplish with this interview, my lord. I was there that day in the woods. Hans would have gladly killed us all, given the chance. For his family's sake, I am sorry for it. But as Emma saved my life and her own, I don't believe she did anything wrong."

Liam came to stand by them, his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Hans left me for dead, bleeding in the snow. Princess Emma is the reason I am still alive. She saved me with her magic and I will be proud to call her my sister one day soon, milord."

Sigmund nodded slowly. "In truth, I am here on behalf of the Queen. She is very distressed."

Snow came forward. "Of course she is. I can't imagine what she's going through."

"It's been a...shock, I think, Majesty. We had no idea Prince Hans was so..." We, Emma thought curiously. That was an odd phase. And Sigmund made it clear he was here for the Queen. Perhaps he was fond of her? Her friend? Loved her from a far?

"Power hungry?" Killian said, interrupting Emma's thoughts.

Sigmund frowned. "Unstable. From what Princess Anna has told me, the poor Prince was quite...deranged when he found you in the forest."

"That's one word for it," Killian muttered. David glared at him, but he didn't care if he wasn't being diplomatic enough. Hans made his choices and paid for him. Killian had trouble feeling sorry for a prince who merely wanted power, a man who was willing to kill anyone who got in his way. A man who did something truly despicable, manipulating poor naive Anna to believe that he loved her. Of all of Hans's crimes that was the one Killian had the most baffled. Love was everything to him, love for family, love for his princess. He couldn't fathom using that for evil. Killian loved Anna like a sister and was indignant on her behalf.

Snow motioned everyone to the Council table. "Is there anything we can do for the Queen?" she asked.

"That is very kind of you, Majesty, but I'm afraid she is simply looking for answers. She can not believe this is the son she raised. As the youngest, she doted on him; he could do no wrong her eyes. She was the one who encouraged the King to send Prince Hans to Arendelle. She believed he was ready to represent the Southern Isles' interests abroad. I think she hoped to use the trip to convince His Majesty that Hans was ready for marriage to some noble house or princess. She never dreamed anything like this could happen."

Liam frowned, drumming his fingers on the table. "His mind got poisoned somehow," he said. "Not only with ambition. It was fear. The things he called Elsa...it wasn't just expediency, Ambassador. He hated her, feared her. He tried to turn her people against her. And that I can't forgive."

"There's no excuse for the Prince's behavior. However, it's possible that what you perceived as hate was merely fear. The Queen did trigger an seemingly eternal winter in her realm, Captain. I know she is your intended and you are inclined to see the best in her..."

"She was terrified!" Liam snarled angrily. "Your prince goaded Princess Anna into marrying him after knowing her for a few hours. He would have done away with Elsa, magic or no, given the chance."

Emma nodded in agreement. "This began before Elsa's flight, Ambassador. I agree with Liam. Perhaps he left the Southern Isles in good faith but he used Elsa's turmoil to expedite his scheme to steal her kingdom."

"People fear what they do not understand," the ambassador began.

Emma waved her hand, conjuring glass vase filled with flowers in the center of the Council table. "Like this, Ambassador?"

"Emma!" David cried.

"I'm not hiding who I am, Papa. Not anymore. Magic isn't something to be feared and neither am I."

"Blue has always warned you to be judicious with your power, Emma," David said, trying to sound more reasonable. "It shouldn't be used frivolously."

"I'm not using it frivolously. The people have lived in fear of magic since Regina's reign of terror. How can I change their minds if I hide who I really am? I was given this power for a reason. The True Love between you and Mama gave me this power. Doesn't that prove that magic is inherently good?"

Sigmund watched the exchange, his face a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Killian sat stiffly next to Emma, proud of he for standing up for herself, but ready to jump in if she needed him. Instead, he was surprised when Liam spoke.

"Majesty, when we were boys, our mother was very ill. Our father tried to use magic to save her. Whether the elixir was fake or bad, I don't know but she died. Father blamed the magic and gave into the bottle. Killian and I were on our own." He nodded at Killian as Snow sniffed quietly. Liam cleared his throat. "I, too, blamed magic. I hated it. However, when the princess revealed her powers, I had little choice but to allow her to try and she saved us from what surely would have been a dangerous encounter with pirates. It made me question everything I thought I knew. After Elsa confided her secret, I realized how wrong I had been. Both Emma and Elsa have good kind hearts and they could never use their powers for ill. Not on purpose. Your daughter saved my life, after the traitor Ian tried to take away her powers. She's one of the bravest people I have the pleasure to know. I would humbly suggest that you give her the chance to prove herself."

Emma wanted to hug her brother in law. She had a vague awareness of how his views on magic had changed, but he'd never spelled it out quite like this. Elsa was very lucky to have someone who loved her for who she was, as was Emma herself. She looked at Killian and he was smiling encouragingly. Emma fought her need to kiss him, settling for holding his hand.

"Ambassador, Hans's motives—whatever they were—are not unique to him. People from all walks of life are ambitious," Emma said clearly. "People still fear magic. I hope that our kingdoms can find some common cause in this and do our utmost to ensure that nothing like this can happen again."

Sigmund looked at her with new respect. "I agree, Your Highness. I will convey your message and condolences to the King and Queen. I'm sure it will comfort them. And if they wish it, I would be honored to return to your realm as the Southern Isles' official ambassador."

"We would be honored to have you," Snow said, her eyes still a little watery but serene. "Captain Jones will ensure your ship is reprovisioned with anything you need before you depart."

"Thank you, Majesty." The man knew he was dismissed and got up, bowing to David, Snow and Emma before exiting the room.

"With your permission, Majesty, I will go see to the Ambassador's ship," Liam said, standing up.

"Just a moment, Captain," Snow said, also standing. Killian and Emma stood too, wondering what her mother was about. Snow slid the chair out of the way and said something very quietly to the elder Jones. His features softened and he bent, enveloping the Queen's small frame in his arms. Snow hugged him back; her heart bled for the two orphaned boys. Killian was quite surprised when she turned to him next; he had to blink back tears as they hugged. Queen Snow would be his mother in law and that prospect no longer worried him. This woman had bestowed her kind nurturing nature on her daughter, and he thanked the gods for it. "If you ever want to talk, please don't hesitate."

"I promise, Your Majesty."

"After you're married, you may call me Snow," she whispered back.

Silently, he nodded. Snow slipped past him and gripped her oldest child's shoulders. "I am so proud of you, Emma. You handled that like a queen should."

Emma breathed deeply, almost overwhelmed by her mother's praise. "Really?"

Snow smiled. "Perhaps we should have you interview all the ambassadors from now on."

Emma laughed nervously. She wasn't ready to be Queen yet. "I think I'll leave that duty in your capable hands, Mama. For now."

"Well, how would you like to see some of the plans for the ball instead?"

Emma felt closer to her mother than she had in years. It meant so much to her, seeing her mother take Killian in as family. Liam too. No doubt she felt compassion for two motherless boys, even if they were grown now. Her mother was just like that. She wished she'd appreciated that sooner. Perhaps now was the time to try and fix that. "I'd like that."

Snow grinned and slipped her arm through Emma's. "We'll see you at dinner," she said to her husband. "Captain Jones, Killian, you must join us. A quiet family dinner. Isn't that right, Charming?"

David realized he was outnumbered. "Of course, Snow."

The men watched the ladies leave, with Liam quickly following in their wake. That left Killian alone with David, who appeared both resigned and aggrieved. Killian took a deep breath, determined to be the bigger person and make the first move toward thawing their relationship. For Emma's sake. "Your Majesty..."

"I challenged you," David said, cutting him off. "Do you remember, Jones?"

"Aye, I remember. Emma was quite irate when I told her."

"Afraid I'd hurt you?"

"She doesn't want us fighting. But I told her I would do whatever it takes to win your approval, Majesty."

David looked impressed. "Any plans this afternoon?"

Killian bowed. "I am at Your Majesty's disposal."

"Practice yard. Fifteen minutes."

Killian had to run back to his room to fetch his sword, but he arrived at the appointed time. The King was already there, stripped down to his linen shirt. He swung his broadsword through the air, the blade whistling. A ploy to intimidate him? Killian shook his head, hand flicking open the buttons of his uniform jacket. He tossed it aside before the King even acknowledged he was there. Nodding curtly, David moved the center of the enclosure.

Killian shucked his vest too, then unsheathed his sword. "Your Majesty."

"First one to three hits wins. As much as I might enjoy it, my daughter would probably like us to avoid bloodshed."

"These swords aren't made for fencing, Majesty."

"No, but Emma's praised your skills with a sword. I'm sure you'll think of something."

Killian had no choice but to nod in agreement. He and Emma sparred many times; he knew all of her moves by heart, just as she knew his. The King had taught Emma, so Killian knew better than to underestimate him. The King may be older now, but he was widely respected as the greatest swordsman in the land. Resigned to do his best, Killian took position and waited, eyeing the King warily. His instincts told him to make the first move, but he did not want to strike until attacked. Upset father or not, David was the King.

David's attack was unexpected, slashing up from the bottom. Killian parried it, his eyes narrowing in concentration. Now that the ice—so to speak—had been broken, instinct took over. He'd been in countless swordfights; he'd been training for them since he was twelve. Liam had taught him the basics, but it became obvious that Killian had real skill, so his brother had found him a sword master. By the time he transferred to the Hornet, he was arguably the best in the Navy.

All of that was tested as he and the King moved in and sprung apart, swords clashing in showers of sparks. The King could still fight, his great broadsword moving in graceful arcs...right toward Killian's head. Killian would dodge and parry, give ground before attacking in kind. He didn't think the King was really trying to hurt him, but he didn't intend to find out. He spun and thrust forward, the flat of his sword tapping the King on the shoulder.

"One," he panted, stepping back.

David scowled, pausing to regroup. His opponent was good, there was no denying that. He wiped his sleeve across his brow, then raised his sword again. Finally, the boy felt comfortable enough to attack and David found himself smiling. If this boy wanted to spend his life with his precious daughter, then he was going to have to earn David's respect. Simply showing up went a long way. Still, David was competitive enough to want to win.

The fight grew more intense as they went, slashes, thrusts, parries, those damnable spins the lieutenant was fond of. They paused, tied at two hits a piece. Killian's linen shirt was torn, slashed open by David; both of them were covered in sweat. "Next one wins," David said, breathing hard. He wasn't as young as he used to be and he could feel it now. His muscles burned from exertion; he needed to practice more.

Killian nodded, wiping his hand on his trousers. He was soaked, his clothes torn and dirty. He would need a bath before dinner. And he could only imagine Emma's reaction to this impromptu duel. He took position and waited for the King to attack him. The older man obliged, swinging the sword with two hands. Killian had to put all his weight behind the parry, more sparks shooting between them. David spun his wrist, trying to disarm him but Killian kicked out with his foot, sweeping the King's legs out from under him. David went down, grunting in pain as he hit the ground ass first, Killian's sword pointed at his throat. "Three."

David scowled but scrambled up, chest heaving. "Don't think...don't think this means I'm giving my consent yet," he panted. He peeled off the damp shirt and tossed it angrily aside. He hadn't lost a swordfight in ages. "You've been sparring with Emma."

"Aye," Killian answered, sheathing his sword and peeling off his own shirt. "A fair few times."

David laughed dryly. "Do you let her win?"

"No. However, she bests me more often than not."

"Good for her."

"Emma is more than capable of looking after herself."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"Why should it?"

For the first time, David saw a bit of what Emma saw in this boy. David felt the same way about Snow; she'd been a bandit when they met, very resourceful in her own right. It just drew him to her. He supposed he should be happy Emma found someone like that. He wanted to be happy for Emma, he did. He just hadn't expected to lose her this soon. He'd dreaded her courtship and marriage for years but he'd always expected to see it happen with his own eyes, not for her to be swept off her feet by some strange boy when she was far from home. He felt like something precious had been stolen from him and he hated that feeling. Now he was taking it out on his daughter's love. Probably unfair of him, but he had to be sure she was loved. Loved as truly and deeply as David loved Snow. And until he was sure, the war of wills between he and the boy had to continue.

"I'll see you at dinner, Lieutenant."

Killian watched the King leave, wondering what he was thinking. He didn't seem angry, just...sad? Killian couldn't fathom why. Perhaps it was some mysterious connection between fathers and daughters. It they were lucky, Killian might understand one day. A daughter is his dark hair and Emma's smile? He wanted that. Emma had intimated that she wanted more than one child, which was more than fine with Killian. He'd gladly give her as many as she wanted. He vowed to be a better father than his own had been, no matter what.

The days were growing shorter now; it was getting dark as he headed into the castle. He moved in the direction of his room, requesting a tub and hot water be brought there. It was a pity Emma couldn't join him. He'd have to find a way to make it up to her later.


Liam propped his feet up on his desk, stretching his arms over his head. He wanted to write to Elsa, tell her all about the ambassador's interview with Emma. He still wasn't sure how helpful their intelligence would be to the poor Queen of the Southern Isles, but Liam did feel bad for her. Losing her son in a far away land had to be difficult. What Liam couldn't get over was how kind Queen Snow was. He liked her from the beginning but he'd never expected her to embrace him as a mother would. He hadn't told his story for sympathy; he wanted to support Emma, believing her cause to be the right one. It meant a great deal to him that Snow actually seemed to care. Killian would have a family here, once Liam was gone.

He still didn't feel totally at ease with leaving his brother, but what choice did he have? His place was at Elsa's side, as her consort. He missed her so much, the ache for her ever present in his chest. He'd gotten so little time with her before they had to part...as much as he knew he had to stay for Killian's sake, he wanted Elsa. He wanted to trace her soft curves with calloused hands, mark her with his lips, his seed. He wanted to feel her around him, see her face as she rode him, the exquisite way she tensed and shook as she fell apart for him. Then he wanted her to touch him, those dainty curious fingers mapping out his body, rousing him again so they could go another round. They'd hardly scratched the surface, there were so many things he wanted to do to her and she to him.

Liam could drive himself insane with his need for her if he wasn't careful.

Shaking his head, he found paper, quill and ink, deciding that writing was better than moping. He scribbled a few lines, interrupted by a tapping on one of the windows. Hope surged in his chest and he opened the porthole to allow the bird to fly in. It had a letter.

How did Elsa know he was thinking of her? Carefully, Liam untied the scroll and the bird flew off. Kicking off his heavy boots, he sat on his bunk to read.

Dearest Liam,

I am so glad to hear of your safe arrival in Misthaven! I tried not to worry too much, but I must admit it is a relief to know you are safe. I received letters from you and Emma within hours of each other, which was quite a treat. Anna misses all of you and wishes to convey her greetings. She hopes we can all be together soon.

It will surely happen sooner than she thinks. I haven't told her yet, but I have ordered a ship prepped. After reading about Emma's predicament, I can not, in good conscience, let her go through this alone. And I miss you, my dearest Liam, more than I can say. Just today I woke up with another vivid dream of us together, using the leather chair in my bedroom in a very creative way. At least it seemed creative to me. As you have more experience, I'll allow you to judge.

I fear needing you this much is slowly driving me mad.

Liam chuckled at that; they were in sync, even miles apart. Then her words truly began to sink in. Elsa was coming to Misthaven. Elsa was coming to Misthaven. The bloody Queen of Arendelle was getting on a ship and sailing to Misthaven. For him. For her soon to be sister in law and dearest friend. He was shocked. He was unbelievably happy. He was worried for her, since he knew how she felt about the ocean. He was a little upset he'd been robbed of the chance to take her on her first voyage outside her realm.

Still...she was coming to him.

His loneliness without her would be gone. She would be here. In his arms. In his bed. Their bed. Since they were formally betrothed, they could spend their nights together if they wished, especially so far from home. He'd planned on sleeping on the Jewel until it was too cold, but now, he could ask Queen Snow if it would be possible to make a room for Elsa and himself. And Anna as well. Was Kristoff tagging along? If Anna was there, Kristoff couldn't be far behind. He hoped they were happy.

Liam checked the date on his letter, calculating how long it would be until she arrived. The letter was over four days old; with a fair wind they would be almost halfway to Misthaven by now. In little more than a week, Elsa would be here. It was a miracle.

He shucked his jacket and stretched out on his bunk. He was very intrigued by this dream she'd had; he hoped she'd written out her fantasy. As he read, Liam could tell she was more at ease with her body and its needs; she hadn't hesitated to describe how she touched herself after waking up unsatisfied. He adored her for giving him this intimacy, something he'd never had with any lover before her. It also made him so hard he felt like he was going to burst.

He tossed the letter aside and loosened his pants. His cock sprang into his hand; he groaned. Liam closed his eyes and tried to imagine Elsa there with him. No, he was back at the palace, in their room, devouring her as she lay sprawled in the window seat. Her hands pressed to the glass, candles flickering across her skin. As high as they were, they probably wouldn't be seen, but the possibility added to the thrill.

Liam licked his palm and took himself in hand again, stroking as he imagined her writhing under him. He loved tasting her, her sweetness burst on his tongue, making him want more. Greedy for every drop of her pleasure, he tongues her over and over, not letting her come, mercilessly keeping her on the edge. Elsa fists the cushion under her head, heels digging into his back, the pressure almost too much for her. "Liam," she pants. "Liam, please."

"Love when you beg, Majesty," he says darkly. He kisses her clit one last time, then straightens, dragging the chair over to them. He flops down in it and beckons her. Elsa's legs are shaking as she tries to stand, but she gladly heeds his bent finger. He turns her around, so she is facing the window and she moans. "Watch us in the window, lass. Watch yourself come."

Elsa's breathing hitches as he guides her onto him, the faint sound morphing into a low scream as her orgasm grips her. Liam bucked into his fist, imagining her fluttering around him, even on that first thrust. He fucks her through it, gripping her hips and helping her ride him. Elsa grips the arms of the chair, hoping to keep herself steady through Liam's rough handling. She loved it, relished it, feeling utterly free. She leans forward, changing the angle and they both moan. Liam struggled to hold on, not ready to come yet, needing the fantasy to play out. Even now, Elsa's pleasure was more important than his. She rides him, bounces in his lap, her white hair over her shoulder. Liam rubs her back, mumbles encouragement, willing himself to hold on until she'd peaked again.

"Come for me, Elsa," he grunts. "Need it again, love."

Elsa mewls, following the demands of her body, riding him so hard her thighs burn. But he's hitting her sweet spot, over and over and over, then she's coming, clamping on his thick cock, so tight that Liam sees stars. The real Liam came with a satisfying jerk, his seed staining his sweaty shirt.

"Bloody hell," he groaned, relaxing into the bunk. It wasn't quite enough but he felt better, knowing that his queen would be with him soon. Perhaps they could act out some of their fantasies. In the meantime, he needed to change and let Emma and Killian know that Elsa was on her way.


Killian seethed quietly, marching down the corridor to his room. Dinner had started well enough; Liam showed up to give them the happy news that Elsa and Anna were on their way to Misthaven. Emma was moved by her friends' dedication and bravery. After loosing their parents as they did, it was no small feat for them to come sailing all the way to Misthaven. Snow immediately went into planning mode, resolving to have rooms prepped and aired first thing in the morning.

King David was even civil to him, which was a first. Killian hoped he'd earned a bit of respect from the older man after their duel. However, the good cheer evaporated the moment they left the family quarters. Emma wished to take a walk in the garden but Prince Andrew, looking harassed and a bit scared, asked if he could accompany her. Realizing she couldn't show favoritism (gods knew who was watching), Emma reluctantly bid Killian a good night, telling him with her eyes that she was see him soon.

He knew it was silly, that he was being selfish, but that didn't help the hurt in his heart. Gods, he hated this stupid game.

Worse was Captain Elling, accosting him on his way upstairs. The man's disgusting pride and arrogance made Killian ill.

"The princess enjoys your company," Elling said, stating the obvious.

"As I enjoy hers. She and I have gotten to know each other quite well."

"Because you were her bodyguard."

"Aye, but I like to think we are friends now."

"But you wish to be more than her friend, don't you, Lieutenant?"

Killian fought to keep his face neutral, lest he give the nosy bastard more reasons to suspect them. It was close. "The princess is an extraordinary, lady, Captain," he said carefully. "She would make any man very happy."

"Were you with her this morning?"

Killian narrowed his eyes. "I fail to see how that's your business."

"Listen carefully, Jones," Elling said, any show of civility forgotten. "I am determined to win her for Prince Andrew. I've been watching you together and it's clear she favors you. If I'm honest, I could see it back in Arendelle. She'd besotted with you, a mere lieutenant. It cheapens her royal estate and Andrew deserves better."

"What reward were you promised?" Killian snapped. "Surely your master promised you a fortune if you're willing to sneak around behind your prince's back. If he's so wonderful, the princess would be a fool not to choose him." It nearly choked him, getting those words out. The idea of Emma with someone else made him sick. And to see this ponce treat her like a prize made him want to punch his smug handsome face. The nerve!

"Clearly you don't know the prince. I had to cajole him for over an hour to get him to waylay her on her evening stroll. He's much more interested in his books than in ladies."

"Sounds like a truly awful problem. Now if you'll excuse me, it's been a long day." He started to move but Elling grabbed his arm.

"I will find something," he said in a low voice. "Some way to discredit you in her eyes. Mark my words, Jones."

"There's nothing to find. Now get out of my way before I have to make a mess on the Queen's clean floors."

Killian shoved past Elling and resumed his walk to his room. He prayed Emma arrived soon; he would feel better once she was in his arms. The worst Elling could discover was that they were already lovers. Emma already knew all about his past and loved him anyway. Bloody hell, the Queen embraced him like a son. There wasn't anything Elling could truly do to them. Even if he did discover their secret, Killian was almost certain the Queen knew and encouraged them. The King would likely be furious if he found out, but they could weather that storm.

No, it was the way Elling treated Emma like an object that truly infuriated him. She was a grown woman, with a mind of her own. She knew what she wanted, who she was and who she loved. She deserved better than to have a gaggle of princes fighting over her. What was the King thinking?

Angry, Killian tossed his sword aside and marched into his bedroom. He stripped off his clothes, leaving the linen shirt. He'd cleaned the spiraling passage a few days ago; they could travel it barefoot now. He opened the door and padded up, a candle in his hand.

Emma locked the door behind her, casting her charms and rolling her eyes heavenward. She had just spent a painful hour in the company of a boy who clearly wanted to be elsewhere. Despite being so close in age to Killian, Andrew really did seem like a boy in comparison. He was studious; every time she saw him, he had his nose in a book. Or he was watching Captain Elling, which Emma thought was very peculiar. He only spoke to Emma when absolutely necessary, often prodded by the aforementioned Elling. She couldn't fathom why his parents believed his coming here was a good idea. He didn't seem interested in her in the slightest.

Which, admittedly, was a relief. She didn't have to pretend to be honored by his "flirting" or any other nonsense. Still, it was annoying that he deprived her of time with Killian. She'd missed him that afternoon, despite enjoying time with her mother.

She started loosening her gown as she moved toward the bedroom, shivering as she recalled Killian stripping it from her just that morning. Her courses would be very soon; her need for him seemed to increase as her time approached. They would need to find a way to indulge in her favorite treatment, perhaps share a bath or two. In an odd way, she almost looked forward to it, since Killian still wanted her as much as he ever did.

Leaving the gown for the maids to tend in the morning, Emma sat at her vanity and brushed her hair. She was still at it when the secret door opened and Killian stepped through, looking thunderous. "What's wrong?"

He marched up to her, laid the candle aside and claimed her mouth in a fierce needy kiss. The urgency with which he claimed her made her melt into him, mewling. She gripped his forearms tightly, confused but not enough to make him stop. He plundered her mouth, tongue stroking hers sinfully. Desire pooled low in her belly, turned on by his obvious need for her body.

Encouraged by her, Killian tugged at her shift, urging it up her legs. It took some maneuvering but he got it over her hips then over her head. She was blissfully naked underneath it and he lifted her up to sit on the vanity. She still didn't know what had come over him, but her protest died on her lips as he peeled off the white linen. His nakedness, his toned hard body and equally hard erection rendered her speechless.

Killian pressed her knees apart and fused his mouth to hers once more. His touch was rough on her skin, fondling her breasts, pinching her nipples. Emma moaned into his mouth, body on fire. She liked it, desperate for more. His cock rutted against her wet flesh, rubbing her clit. "Killian," she panted, cupping his cheeks. "What...oh gods..."

"Later," he muttered, lips attacking her throat. "Need you."

She threaded her fingers into his hair, tugging roughly. "Right here," she said. "Fuck, I'm right here."

"Wanker," he hissed, pressing her knees even wider apart. "You're mine."

She gathered he wasn't talking about her. But she most assuredly was his. Heart, body and soul. She couldn't have given herself to him otherwise. She kissed him again, matching his need. Whatever was going on with him could wait. Emma was panting when he released her, kissing his way down her body, leaving a trail of sharp possessive lovebites in his wake. He didn't stop, moving lower, lower, lower until his mouth was hot on her core. She'd never seen him this desperate for her, this intent on claiming her. She was willing—gods, she was so willing, it was ridiculous—but deep down she knew something had driven him to this. But she could hardly think, let alone form coherent words, while his mouth did those wicked things to her. He was relentless, making her come quickly, her back bowing as she cried out. Thank the gods she'd done the silencing spell when she locked her door or the entire castle would know what he was doing to her.

There was no respite, his fingers coming into play now, working her up again. She grabbed for him wildly, fingers latching onto his hair, her own head thrashing against the mirror. She could only imagine what they looked like, her naked and spread on her ornate vanity, Killian's dark head between her thighs. The view was very good from where she sat, watching his fingers slide in and out of her channel, coated in her arousal.

"Killian," she bit out, bucking up into his touch. "Fuck, I need...I need..."

"Aye, I know what you need, princess." His accent was thicker, richer, dripping sex and she moaned, a delicious shiver raced up her spine. He lowered her head and sucked greedily on her swollen clit and she screamed again, coming apart at the seams, hips bucking up off the vanity. He lapped at her, drinking down every drop.

His fingers slipped from her and she whined in complaint. But Killian merely grinned wickedly, offering his fingers for her to suck. She did so, tongue swirling around each digit, tasting her own tang on his skin. Killian groaned, watching her, his cock red and throbbing. He leaned over her until their sensitive flesh touched; he could feel her getting wet again. "That's it, princess. Such a wanton thing, you are."

"Yours," she whispered, wrapping her hand around him, trying to guide him to her. She ached for him, wanted to give him her body, only him. "Only yours."

He teased her, the very tip of his cock penetrating her. "Gods, I need you so much."

"Take me. Gods, please. Fill me up, make me yours."

Killian crashed his mouth to her, kissing her hungrily before turning her over. He bent her legs under her, thanking every god he could think of that her vanity was almost obscenely large. Surely anyone who knew what they were doing on the vanity would think it obscene, but he couldn't resist her arse on display like this. Emma stretched out over the top of the flat surface, flushed and gorgeous as he thrust into her from behind.

"I'm the only one who gets this," he muttered, taking her with hard firm strokes. "My princess."

"Yes, yes!" she cried, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the smooth wood. She caught a glimpse of them in her mirror and she thought she might combust on the spot. The penetration was deep, so deep he bottomed out, every thrust taking her apart and putting her back together. He felt so good, staking his claim on her, hands gripping her hips. She relaxed and let him, never wanting this moment to end.

Deep down, he thought he was being a little to rough with her, but Emma never complained. She let him use her body, somehow understanding what he needed. Later, he'd make love to her slowly, tenderly, worship her. This was carnal desire, the need to claim his mate, primitive and desperate. Emma could feel him trembling, his fingers digging into her skin. She snaked a hand under her, between her legs and flicked her clit. She tensed almost instantly, the deep penetration finally finding the perfect spot. Her climax ripped through her, knuckles white on the edge of the vanity, a silent cry on her lips. Killian grunted, rutting into her once, twice, threes times before succumbing, her name on his lips, seed bathing her womb.

Killian sagged, bending over her back, holding her shaking form. Now that his anger and frustration was spent, he felt bad about his abrupt seduction. He kissed the back of her neck tenderly, praying she could forgive him. "I'm sorry, love. I am so sorry."

Emma had to shake her head, wondering what on earth he was apologizing for. Mind blowing sex? Because that was a bit insulting. She may not know why he'd come to her as he did, but she'd enjoyed every moment. If she hadn't, she would have stopped him; she had magic, for gods' sake.

She was about to argue when he pulled away, intent on helping her up Suddenly it was like she was made of glass. He found a washcloth and gently cleaned her, even as his seed dripped from her core. Every time she tried to talk he shook his head, offering her some water from the pitcher then carrying her to their bed. When he settled, he looked ashamed and Emma had enough.

"Killian, what is going on?"

"I shouldn't have used you like that," he said softly. He looked at her hips. "I hurt you."

Emma covered her hips with the blanket, then forced him to look at her. "No, you didn't. You could never hurt me, Killian. I enjoyed that. Everything you did, everything we did. Don't apologize for making me happy."

"How can I make you happy?"

She frowned, thoroughly confused. "You just do. You understand me. And I understand you. Hey, look at me," she said, grabbing his shoulder and turning him to face her. "I love you, Killian. I don't know what's going on but I want to. We made a promise to always be honest, remember?"

Killian reached up to touch her face, smiling wanly when her lips brushed his palm. "That ponce...Captain Elling found me, after you left with Andrew."

Emma scowled. She was really beginning to dislike that man. "He said something to you, didn't he?"

"He vowed to find something to turn you against me. He knows we're...close, love. That you favor me." He laughed bitterly. "Even said it lowered your royal estate, like that was the most important thing in the world. He talked about winning you for Andrew and it just...made me sick. Sick and angry and I took it out on you."

"Oh Killian." She cupped his cheeks, tenderly kissing his lips. "No, you didn't. You might have been a little rough and wilder than usual but I definitely wasn't complaining. I meant what I said. I'm yours, I'll always be yours. Nothing is going to change that."

"What if he finds out about us?"

"So what if he does? It might actually be a relief. I hate hiding."

"But your father..."

"We've done nothing wrong," she said firmly. "We're engaged. We're going to get married. I want to spend my life with you, have your children. If Papa has a problem with that, he can come through me."

Killian sighed heavily, pulling her into his arms, her head resting on his chest. "We fought today. Your father and I."

Emma tensed. "With words or swords?"

"Mostly swords. He reminded me of his challenge, right after you left with the Queen."

"That's why you smelled so nice at dinner." She couldn't help but smile; he smelled great now as well, sea salt and musk and sex.

He chuckled. "Noticed, did you? I'm only sorry I didn't have my favorite bath companion."

She stretched out, tangling their legs. "We should do that soon. I miss bathing with you."

"Minx."

She ran her fingers over the trail of hair down his belly. "I'm not giving you up, Killian. No matter what Elling thinks he knows. Frankly, he's fighting a losing battle; Andrew doesn't seem the least bit interesting in women."

"He said as much. I think he's trying to procure advancement for himself. Since he's looking out for himself, he must believe that I'm doing the same. Using you to advance my career."

"You would never do that!" Emma said hotly.

Killian kissed the crown of her head, honored by her belief in their love. He loved Emma for herself, not her crown. She could be a simple bar wench and he would love her just as fiercely. "I appreciate that, sweetheart. I just wonder what we should do now."

"No one knows about us, aside from family."

"The crew of the Jewel must have suspected. We slept in the same quarters."

"I don't think they'd talk, do you?"

He thought about the way the crew cheered her when they arrived home. "They're loyal. You earned their trust, I think."

That warmed her. "Then nothing needs to change. No one knows about the passage, except for Mama. We might try spending a little less time together, at least until Elsa gets here. She and Liam can 'chaperone' us or something."

Killian chuckled. "I doubt we'll see much of them," he mused. "It's been almost a month since they've seen each other. And Elsa doesn't arrive for at least another week. If they miss each other as much as I think, wild horses couldn't pry them apart."

Emma nodded. "But at least they'll be together. I've felt so guilty being here with you while they're separated. They deserve to be happy."

"Aye. Liam's a changed man. For the better. He loves Elsa like I love you." It was all consuming, his love for Emma. Like she was the only thing he needed.

"I'm so happy she's coming," Emma sighed. "I've missed her."

"And bringing Anna," Killian observed, stroking her hair. "I bet the lass is excited, leaving home for the first time."

"Anna would never let Elsa go alone. I wonder if Kristoff is coming with them."

Killian laughed. "Gods, can you imagine him towering over all these princelings? They won't know what to make of him."

Emma laughed too. "It'll be nice, having our family here. And hopefully, it'll make this stupid charade easier." There was about three weeks now, until her birthday. Three weeks too long in her opinion. Having the people she cared about around her though...that was priceless.