Chapter 3

The fire crackled and popped, flames casting long shadows along the ground and against the trees from where Killian and Emma sat silently. Though the air was crisp in his lungs, the evening was rather pleasant with clear skies and a light breeze, if only he could make his mood match the atmosphere around him. He ought to check in on Emma's thoughts, see how she was holding up in the aftermath of the morning. They'd pressed on with as much haste as he'd been able to muster on his injured foot in order to put as much distance between themselves and vile men left dead in their wake. Men who continued to make his blood boil and his gut churn with fury.

When the old man had uttered Malcolm's name Killian knew their encounter would end violently. The recently departed village elder might have touted the faith's teachings of compassion and brotherly love, but Killian knew his mindset had been geared more towards the worst of Old Testament; taking that which he felt God had ordained for them, forcefully if necessary. He'd likened himself to Joshua conquering the Promised Land, with justifications of protecting the community against enemies of the Lord, and saving those who'd been led astray by the fallen world around them.

Killian remembered those early years well when strangers arrived in droves after teams of villagers had gone out to scout and scavenge. New members added to the flock and brought into the fold with shell shocked looks and spirits of fear that had been used as a cautionary tale of the results of living outside the protection of the village, and by extension, God's grace. It had never occurred to Killian to question where the people had come from, or whether they had come of their own accord. Had they been tricked into entering the community? Been told the same things he'd said to Swan?

Was he really any better than those who'd served Malcolm, or those who blindly served their new head elder? Better than those men in the woods who'd used trickery and false hospitality to take what they wanted? Had he been incensed at their question of whether Emma was with him by her own choice because he didn't want to be associated with men of such ilk, or because deep down he knew that he was really no different than them? He hadn't forced Emma to come along with him, but he hadn't been honest with her about their destination, either. Nor had he been honest about his true intent, justifying his actions in much the same way as countless villagers before him.

Much as he needed her, wanted her, truly had her best interests at heart, and genuinely felt she was an answer to his prayers, could he really justify his actions? Even if God had divinely intervened the day their paths crossed, that didn't give him the right to take her choice from her. Killian had always believed that while the Lord, in His infinite mercy, might give provision and guidance, it was up to each of them to make their own fate in the world. A belief that had led him from his village in the first place, in search of a new destiny; a destiny he truly believed included Emma Swan.

"Have you ever seen the ocean?" Emma asked softly, her gaze unfocused on the fire in front of her.

"Aye," he replied, curious as to what thoughts had led her to prompt such a question. "When I was little. Before all of… this. Why?"

"Ingrid used to tell me stories about a place by the ocean. A place where people found safety. A haven."

"Misthaven." Killian nodded knowingly. "I once met a man who claimed he'd come from there."

"Really?" Emma's eyes flicked up to his. "I thought that was something Ingrid made up. I never thought it was real."

"It may not be real, but she didn't make it up. It's an old legend from the time of the Changing. A place, apparently, free from disease."

"Have you ever thought about trying to find it?"

"Lots of times," he confessed wistfully.

"What's stopped you?"

Killian paused and reflected on his answer before answering honestly. "Life. The people I'm with now."

Emma's smile told him she hadn't picked up on the faintly terse tone with which his words were delivered. "People are what make a place special."

Side-stepping her incorrect assumption of what he'd meant, he placed a smirk on his lips and asked, "Is that something else Ingrid used to say?"

"No," she whispered, an air of fondness tinged with melancholy saturating her words. "An old friend used to say it."

"Well, she's right. People are what make a place special." Though special does not always equate with good.

"He, actually," Emma corrected quietly.

"He?" A hot spark of something he had no right to feel flared to life in his chest.

"Yeah, uh," Emma tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and ran her tongue along her bottom lip, nipping at it nervously before continuing. "His name was Graham. We first met him when I was about fourteen, I think. Ingrid found him badly injured in the woods, and brought him back to the cabin to treat him. He ended up staying with us that entire winter as we nursed him back to health. He came back to stay with us every winter after that until…"

"Until?"

"He stopped coming," Emma answered tightly. "I haven't seen him since the spring thaw three years ago." Her words caught on a lump of emotion that had formed in her throat.

"You cared for him," Killian stated, sensing he might have been more than a simple friend.

"Yes," Emma released on a quiet breath. "He was..." She took a deep breath and furtively cast her eyes in his direction before settling them back onto the fire. "He was a lot of things to me."

Killian's jaw clenched, and the jealousy that had first ignited in his chest simmered in his gut. It was pointless to feel this way. Whatever had occurred between Swan and this man happened years ago, and logic told him the man was long dead. That logic couldn't combat the covetousness that continued to writhe in his stomach though.

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm cursed."

Killian swallowed against his irrational envy and focused himself on the woman beside him, remorseful that he'd been so neglectful of her thoughts and emotions while brooding in his own all evening.

"Why would you think that, love?"

She gave a small half shrug. "I've lost everyone." The sorrow shimmering in her eyes from the illuminating firelight twisted his heart, and he couldn't help but reach out to take her hand in his. "I never even knew my parents, but I still felt their loss my whole life. Then I lost Elsa and Anna. Then Ingrid. Even Graham."

"You aren't cursed, Emma," Killian assured her with a squeeze of his hand. "It's the world that's cursed. Even before the sickness, loss was a part of life. But I know how you feel."

Emma turned her gaze to his and like so many times before, Killian found himself overwhelmed by her beauty.

"You do?"

"Aye," he breathed. "I've lost my parents, my brother, and too many friends."

"I'm so sorry, Killian. I didn't realize."

"Realize what, love?"

"About your brother," she said apologetically. "You mentioned him last night, but I never asked. I just assumed he was still alive and-"

"It's alright, Swan. It was long ago, but," his fist clenched and relaxed over the top of his thigh as he pushed back against the memory, "it's not a moment I'm too fond of reliving."

"Of course. You don't… you don't have tell me. I try to avoid thinking of such things, too." Killian could see her mind at work and patiently waited for her to collect her thoughts. "I think that was another hesitation I had in coming with you."

"What's that?"

"As much as I don't want to be alone anymore," she confessed. "As much as I want to be a part of something, a community, I… I don't want to lose anyone else." Her head fell forward slightly, taking her eyes from his as she murmured, "I thought I was going to lose you today, and I don't... I don't want to lose you, too."

Killian's lips parted in astonishment, sticking at their corners as he processed her words. Perhaps he'd been brooding for nothing. Perhaps, in light of what she'd just confessed, he needn't worry so much. Maybe she would understand and forgive the deceptions and duplicity, and want to stay with him once she learned the truth. God, he hoped so.

Placing his finger beneath her chin, he lifted her face up towards his. His thumb grazed along the edge of her jaw before settling in the dimple below her lip. "Love, you don't have to worry about me. If there's one thing I'm good at… it's surviving."

He could see from the labored rise and fall of her chest that her breaths had become as shallow as his. The heat of the fire had set a flush upon their skin which reacted with the cool night air, setting a current of anticipation around them. It took every ounce of will power he possessed to not fall prey to the temptation before him, to release her chin and put a bit of space between them rather than surge forward to claim her mouth with his. Willing as she might be to permit him such a liberty, it was one he would not allow himself to take until she knew everything. He owed her that much, at least.

"We've still got quite a distance to cover tomorrow," he said in a hoarse tone from the sudden dryness in his throat. "We should probably get some rest."

"Right," she agreed. The pink flush at her cheeks reddened further, and he hoped she hadn't read his hesitance as a rejection.

He grasped her hand when she stood, and brushed his thumb over her knuckles while offering her a reassuring smile; one he was pleased to see mirrored back at him. With a gentle tug on his hand, she prompted him to stand before releasing his hand and making her way to their makeshift tent. Killian's heart began to pound an anxious rhythm against his rib cage as he recalled the state in which he'd woken that morning after finding Emma wrapped in his arms. Half hard, with thoughts and instincts he been battling against for years swirling through his mind, Killian had had to pinch himself hard on the inner thigh to stop the ardour thrumming through his veins before his body could manifest it physically. The action had become second nature to him; a habit he'd developed long ago to combat unwanted urges prompted by unwanted advances. Not that he wouldn't welcome advances from Emma should she ever feel inclined to give them, even if the mere idea of such a prospect had his insides twisting themselves into knots.

"Perhaps we should sleep beneath the stars tonight," he called out, a bit flustered, running a hand through his hair. "It's a clear night. We'll be back at my village by tomorrow night, so this will be our only opportunity." All of which was true, but Killian knew the real reason he wished to sleep outside the tent was because he simply did not trust himself with her inside the tent.

Emma looked up into the clear night sky then back at him. "I think that sounds nice."

Killian ensured his bedroll was far enough away to avoid temptation, while still close enough to offer Emma the comfort of his presence. Before he could drift off to sleep, she rolled onto her side and reached out to take his hand.

"Goodnight, Killian," she yawned. "And thank you. Thanks for bringing me with you."

Maybe she would forgive him once he was able to confess the truth. Maybe she really was the answer to all of his prayers.

Or maybe he was an utter bastard who deserved to burn in Hell for the betrayal that awaited her come mid-afternoon tomorrow.

~/~

After checking and redressing his wound, they headed out from their camp early the next morning. With each hour that ticked by and mile that passed beneath their feet, Killian became a bit more reserved and somewhat withdrawn. He was quiet when they'd stopped for a bite at midday, lost in contemplations, though Emma swore he'd started to say something to her more than once before stopping himself.

She couldn't help but wonder if he wanted to talk about the events from the night before. Well, not events, she supposed. Nothing had actually happened. There had been a moment when Emma thought Killian might kiss her, but he'd pulled back. She couldn't deny she'd been both relieved and disappointed when he had. Though she could admit she was attracted to him, had been from the first moment they'd met, she worried what sort of scrutiny they'd be under when they arrived at his village. Unsure of what his community's stance was on relations between men and women, it was probably best they'd refrained from any actions that could have easily escalated. She wanted to put her best foot forward with his village, and not give them any reason to not accept her.

She could only hope that same wish was what had Killian acting so tense. Was he concerned about how the villagers were going to react to her? Could they overrule his invitation and bar her from entering?

His behaviour, and her increasingly frayed nerves, started a surge of anxiety to cycle through her with each trudging step. Worried of how the villagers would receive an unexpected outsider, and fearing they might not wish to accept her, she nearly jumped out of her skin when Killian placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Apologies, love. Are you alright?"

"What? I mean, yes. Why, uh… why are we stopping?"

Killian's brows pulled together as he reached up to scratch behind his ear. "We're nearly there," he informed her, with the same pensive and hesitant tone that had colored his words all day. "Before we get there though, there's something I need to…" He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. "Do you remember yesterday when you told me that you knew I had your best interests at heart?"

"Yeah. Why?"

He opened his eyes and fixed them on her, intense yet vulnerable, and so, so blue. "There are good people here, Swan. But there are also people and things, some traditions that might seem… I just need you to hold onto the promise you made. When you said you we're going to choose to see the best in me. No matter what you might see or hear, I promise I will explain things to you, I just need you to trus-"

"Killian," Emma pressed her fingers against his lips to stop his ramblings. "I'm nervous enough as it is, meeting your people. So, I get it. You're worried about how they're going to react." She removed her hand from his mouth then reached down to lace it together with his. "I know things are going to be different here than I'm used to. I'm preparing myself for the shock of having so many people around, and I promise to do my best to make a good impression for you."

"No, Swan, that's not-"

"Thank God!" a voice sounded, drawing Emma's attention to the handful of people who'd suddenly appeared. Instinctively, she grabbed for the rifle strap at her shoulder, only to be halted by Killian.

"It's alright, Swan. No need for that," he assured with a smile.

"We were starting to think you wouldn't return," the man said as he drew closer. He was taller than Killian, but only by a small margin. Light brown hair and overgrown stubble that matched Killian's, though without the reddish tint, framed his jovial face. He had an accent similar to Killian's as well, and she wondered if his family had been a part of the original experiment Killian's had. Once he was close enough, he pulled Killian into a tight hug which was reciprocated with equal enthusiasm. Emma smiled, and some of her earlier trepidations began to melt away at the sight of such brotherly friendship.

"Killian! Oh, thank God!"

As soon as the man released Killian, a woman flew into his embrace. Emma watched as all the tension that had lifted from his posture at the welcoming hug of the man came crashing back down over him when the woman wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. She was older. Early forties if Emma had to guess, with a mess of wild hair and thin braids cascading down her back. It wasn't until Killian raised an arm to wrap around her in kind that she finally released him.

"What's happened to you?" she questioned when she caught sight of his walking stick and off balanced step back from her.

"It's nothing. I'm fine." His tone was as tight as the set of his shoulders, and Emma wondered what it was about the woman that had put him so on edge. Turning to address the others gathered, Killian offered them a smile he did not seem to think the woman warranted. "It's good to see you all."

"Who's this?" the woman inquired with suspicion lacing her tone as she set her cold eyes on Emma.

"This," Killian began, beckoning Emma to him. He placed a hand on her shoulder, a smile that crinkled at the corner of his eyes stretched across his face as he presented her to the small group before them, "is Emma. Emma this is-"

"There'll be time for pleasantries later," the woman cut in shrewishly, "We shouldn't linger outside the compound for too long."

Obedience to her words was immediate as the group turned and began to walk back up the path Emma could now make out between the trees. She hung back a little, falling in line behind Killian and his friend, listening to their light banter while hoping it would help ease her newly agitated nerves.

"You look like hell," the man ribbed with a chuckle.

"You should see the other guy," Killian quipped back.

The trees parted and before them was an imposing structure. A wall, several meters high, and constructed with all manner of materials with spiraled razor wire topping it, stretched in either direction. Flanking the opening that allowed access into the village itself were two guard posts. One raised on a high platform with an armed man keeping watch, the other an old truck that most likely hadn't run in more than a decade, but could serve as an effective barricade should they require the added security.

A young man, older than her, but younger than Killian and his friend, hopped off the back of the truck and approached them. "You know the drill. Weapons must be surrendered before you can enter."

Killian handed the automatic rifle he'd had slung over his shoulder to his friend then unholstered his shotgun to do the same. His friend was too transfixed by the first weapon Killian had put in his hands to take the second gun from him.

"Where did you find this?" he asked while looking the AR over with a trained eye.

Killian shot Emma a quick glance before replying. "We ran into a couple of men in the woods on the way back. Things didn't end too well for them."

The memory of the encounter sent a shudder through Emma, an action that made the older woman's brow raise up her forehead.

"You'd think after all this time those of us left would learn to get along," Killian's friend lamented.

The younger man who'd jumped from the truck held out his hands to receive her rifle, which she relinquished with only a flicker of apprehension.

"Your knife, too," he demanded with a nod towards her hip.

"Actually, I'd rather keep that." Emma had noticed that Killian hadn't presented his boot knife, and so had assumed she'd be permitted to keep hers as well.

"If you want to join our village, you have to obey our rules," the woman stated sharply.

"Speaking of getting along," she heard Killian's friend murmur as he turned towards her. "Emma," he addressed politely with Killian smirking over his shoulder. "I'm Robin. It's lovely to meet you, and we're so thrilled to have you. I'm afraid Nick and Eloise are correct, though. You'll need to hand over the knife, but as the keeper of the armory, I promise it will be well looked after." He gave an exaggeratedly formal bow that Emma couldn't help chortle at as she unfastened her belt to slip the sheathed knife off.

"Is that all?" the woman, Eloise, questioned. "Shouldn't we search her pack as well?"

"That won't be necessary," Killian affirmed. "As her sponsor, I'll vouch for her pack."

Eloise blanched. "Her sponsor?"

"Aye," Killian clipped. "Now. May we enter? It's been a long journey for us both."

Robin clapped Killian on the back and gave Emma a friendly wink before he announced, "Welcome home!"

Eyes followed her every movement as they made their way through the village. Children waved excitedly while older members clustered together, pointing and whispering as Emma and the others passed by. Looking around, she was struck by how well supplied they were here. Structures that resembled actual buildings and not cobbled together dwellings dotted the vast compound. Gardens brimming with abundance for the expected harvest had obviously been tended by a hand far more competent than hers. The wall surrounded the village on all sides, with two more platformed guard stations situated along the back where no trees could be seen rising beyond. Emma deduced that the lake must lay on the other side.

Every so often Killian would murmur information about the village in her ear as they toured the compound, his hand placed firmly on her lower back, beneath her pack, as they approached what could only be described the village square at the center of the property.

"Brother!" a new voice called out. Another of Killian's contemporaries rose from a bench where he'd been surrounded by other villagers, and once again she felt the man beside her stiffen ever so slightly. "We were starting to fear the worst."

"Things took longer than expected, I'm afraid." Killian stepped forward, slightly blocking her from the other man's full view as they shook hands. Emma noted that Killian's tone had become overly civil, reminding her of the forced cordiality between him and the men in the woods. "There aren't too many people left in the mountains."

Mountains? Emma questioned internally. He hadn't been in the mountains?

"Looks as though you managed to stumble across someone's path, though," the man pointed out, his brown eyes assessing the newcomer.

"More like the other way around," Emma huffed out amusedly, catching Killian's eye as a sly smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth at their shared joke.

"Everyone," Killian addressed the now rather large crowd that had assembled in the square. "This is Emma. A true believer, and a survivor like us." Again, he placed a hand on her shoulder, keeping it there as he limped back until he was at her side. "Tragedy struck her family these recent years, so I've offered her a place here with us."

"Welcome, Emma!" the man greeted, loud enough for all to hear before lowering his voice to introduce himself. "I'm Neal. Grandson of one of the village's founders, head of the Elder Council, and the appointed preacher here. We are happy to have you."

He extended his hand. After she placed hers within it, he covered their joined hands with his other.

"Thank you for taking me in."

He did not allow her to withdraw her hand when she tried to pull it from his grasp. Instead, he began to pat their joined hands as he announced, "We should celebrate! After the baptism, ofcourse. It's fortunate that you arrived while there's still plenty of daylight left. We can carry out the ceremony before sunset."

"Baptism?" Emma questioned, becoming a bit more insistent that the man release her hand, which he finally did with a warm and charming smile.

"There's no need to rush the baptism," Killian countered with the same cordial tone. "We've only just arrived. We're both tired, and I'm injured. Best to let her get her bearings before all that."

"You know the rules, Killian," Neal stated, his tone bearing an edge of false civility as well now. Emma wasn't sure what this ceremony was, or what a baptism had to do with it, but she didn't want her first moments within the village to cause strife. "She needs to be sponsored. If you're too tired and injured to see to it, then I'd be more than happy to-"

"I am aware of the rules, and I shall be the one sponsoring her," Killian informed him. "I only ask that the baptism be put off until morning, so she has an opportunity to rest."

"What baptism?" Emma inquired again, feeling a bit put out over the fact she was being spoken about as if she weren't standing right there. "I've already been baptised. Ingrid saw to it when we were children."

"You come from God fearing people," Neal commended. "That much is evident." His gaze flicked down to the cross pendant resting on her chest, and might have lingered a tad longer than she felt appropriate. "This is a second baptism, though. Your first washed you clean of your sins, and declared your devotion to our Lord. The second baptism is a renouncing of the world that has fallen into new corruption since the plague, and serves as a public declaration of your commitment to the community, it's customs, and it's elders. It allows you to take your proper place within our flock."

Prickles of unease crawled over Emma's skin as Neal spoke, leaving hairs standing on end. She glanced up at Killian who had an inscrutable look upon his face, willing him to look at her.

"It's just a ceremony," Robin chimed in, drawing her attention. "Something we do to officially welcome newcomers into the community. We give you a white dress to wear, Killian says a prayer over you, dunks you under, and it's done."

Well, when they put that way...

"The choice is yours," Eloise snipped impatiently. "You can either choose to abide by our traditions and customs, or you can leav-"

"Eloise is right," Killian interrupted, having snapped himself out of whatever stupor he'd fallen under. He turned her to face him, both his hands resting atop her shoulders as he fixed her with his forget-me-not stare. "The choice is yours, Swan. We've had a long journey, and if you'd rather wait before-"

"No," Emma blurted out. She'd decided to follow Killian, to be a part of something with him, and even though this second baptism seemed like nonsense, something she couldn't reconcile with her own understanding of the scriptures, she'd promised to trust Killian. If doing the ceremony tonight would put the villagers at ease, it was the least she could do for them welcoming her into their community. "It's fine, Killian. We can do the ceremony tonight. I just… I just didn't understand the importance of it before."

Something flashed in Killian's eyes, and for a moment she though he might argue the matter further, until Neal began making yet another proclamation.

"Wonderful! We best get everything ready for you then."

Emma was immediately bombarded with villagers eager to welcome her. She forced a smile, shaking hands and concentrating on names as her anxiety tremored in her pulse at the overwhelming sensation of being surrounded by so many people. Killian never left her side and after a few moments his hand moved under her pack to the small of her back where he gently began to steer her through the crowd. Several young girls thrust small bouquets of flowers at her, stopping their progress as Emma thanked them. Looking back over her shoulder once they'd cleared the assembly Emma's lips turned down as she scanned the crowd.

A wide spectrum of ages were represented among the men within the village, but among the women Emma only saw either young children and girls on the verge of adolescence, to women at least a decade or more older than her. Where were the other young women her own age?

"This is me." Killian's voice brought her head back around where she saw a small cabin before her.

"You have a cabin all to yourself?

"Being an elder has its perks," he informed her as he opened the door and waved her in.

The cabin was comprised of only one large room. A wood burning stove stood across the room along the far wall, equally dividing the space into a living and bedroom. To her left was a long sofa with a low table in front of it, and a tall bookcase with shelves crammed with books beside it. To her right was a spacious and comfortable looking bed with a wardrobe and writing desk situated on opposite walls of each other. Emma sat her pack down next to the low table and immediately went for the books.

"Swan, about the ceremony," Killian began as he closed the door behind him.

"Killian, I told you it's fine," Emma replied, keeping her attention on the books her fingertips were skimming as she scanned the titles of tomes she'd only ever heard about from Ingrid or Graham. She never expected to have a chance to read them for herself. "I don't want to make waves my first night here, so if doing this baptism will make everyone feel better then I don't mind." She pulled herself away from the bookcase to face him, hands playfully on her hips as she ordered, "Though you are going to have to explain to me later why a second baptism is even necessary, given what you and I both know of the scriptures."

Expecting a smile, or maybe even that adorable scratching motion he sometimes did behind his ear, assuming this was one of those traditions she might find peculiar and in need of explanation, she was startled by the desperate and almost panicked look in his eyes.

"Killian? What is it? Have I done something-"

"No, love." He started to step toward her, but then seemed to think better of it. "I'm afraid I'm the one who's done something. Or rather, I haven't done something. Swan, There's something I need you to know before-"

"Knock, knock!" The door swung open, revealing Eloise who made her way inside. "Killian, what are you doing? You should be getting ready. We are losing daylight."

"What are you doing here?" Killian asked flatly, fists balling at his sides.

"I've brought a dress for Emma to wear, and thought I'd offer my assistance in getting her ready." Emma could now see the white swath of fabric draped over the woman's arm and her brows rose. How on earth did they manage to keep the fabric so white? "Robin said you could get ready in his quarters, and you'd better hurry. You know Neal isn't known for his patience. If he thinks you're taking too long he's liable to come and baptise her himself."

The muscle in Killian's jaw jumped. While delivering her message about Robin's invitation and Neal's impatience, Eloise had gone to his wardrobe and pulled out a white button down shirt which she was now holding out towards him with herself placed between him and Emma. After a tense moment that felt like something of a standoff, Killian snatched the shirt from Eloise's hand before brushing past her to approach Emma. A maelstrom swirled in his eyes as his Adam's apple bobbed heavily from the tension still held in his jaw. He gave her a soft smile, though. Obviously wishing to leave her with words that garnered encouragement rather than apprehension.

"I'll see you down at the lake, love." He reached up to toy with a strand of her hair before tucking it behind her ear. Was he stalling?

"What did you want to tell me earlier?" Emma asked softly.

His eyes darted to the side, not quite looking over his shoulder, and Emma knew whatever it was he wanted to say, he was unwilling to do so with an audience.

"It'll have to wait," he said with a hint of resolution. "After the ceremony. Before the celebration."

"Okay." Emma nodded.

Reluctantly, Killian walked out of the cabin, leaving Emma alone with the woman who hadn't exactly extended the warmest of welcomes. Eloise motioned for Emma to sit in the desk chair then laid out the dress on the bed before asking if she had a hairbrush in her pack. When Emma offered to get up and retrieve it, Eloise waved her off and went about going through her pack to find it. Looks like you got to search my things after all, Emma sassed to herself. She tried not to wince as Eloise roughly ran the brush through her hair before tightly braiding it into a crown like shape atop her head.

"I gather you've been on your own for some time," she began conversing lightly, even if her touch was not. "Awfully brave of you to follow a stranger into the unknown. You must have made quite an impression on Killian for him to agree to sponsor you."

Emma knew the woman was alluding to something more under the surface of her words, but she couldn't quite determine what, so she felt it best to keep her answers short. "Killian has been very kind."

"What exactly happened out there on your way back?" Eloise asked with a heavy dose of curiosity. "Killian wouldn't tell me what happened to his foot." A sharp tug made Emma's eyes water. "He usually tells me everything. Then there's the mysterious men you came across in the woods. What happened with them?"

"You should ask Killian." The idea of having to recount the tale to this woman made Emma's stomach recoil.

"I'm asking you," Eloise reprimanded, jabbing bobby pins painfully against Emma's scalp to secure the crown braid. "Whatever happened seems to have left its mark on you, given that you react physically whenever it's mentioned." Eloise moved from behind her and looked at her with expectant brows raised. When Emma remained silent, the woman's nostrils flared with indignation. "Fine. Don't tell me. But just so we're clear," the woman leaned over, her hands coming to rest against the ends of the chair arms, caging Emma, "this is my village, and Killian was mine first."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Sponsorship isn't just required for newcomers," Eloise replied sweetly. "It is also given to the younger members of the village who have no family to help guide them in the ways and traditions of our community, helping them navigate their way into adulthood and their proper place within the flock. I became Killian's sponsor after his brother died."

Emma sat bewildered. What she'd just described made Emma think of a surrogate parent or guardian, yet she'd gotten the impression that Eloise's feelings towards Killian were anything but motherly.

Eloise righted herself and offered an insincere smile. "I'll wait outside while you get dressed then escort you to the lake. Try to be quick about it."

What have I gotten myself into? Emma wondered internally after the woman departed out the door.

Clearly some sort of feud existed between Killian and Eloise. Was that what Killian had been beating himself up over? Guilt over dragging her into a… domestic dispute? Emma shook herself and got up from the chair. He'd said he would explain things, she just needed to trust him and get through the ceremony so they'd finally have time for him to do so.

Crossing the room to draw the curtains so she'd have privacy while she undressed, Emma saw Killian and Eloise when she reached the window. He looked ready to commit murder, the veins at his temples protruded from his face, which was red with fury. Eloise sidled up to him and lightly placed a hand against his chest. Immediately grabbing it, he pulled it away before flinging it aside, baring his teeth as he seethed something at her before storming off. His face pinched in pain, his limp much more pronounced now than it had been before.

Emma snapped the curtains closed and quickly dressed, taking a moment to appreciate the garment she was expected to wear even though she was eager to reunite with Killian to ensure he was alright. It was only a simple dress of white cotton with eyelet trim along the edge of the collar, sleeves, and hem, and yet Emma had never worn anything so fine and delicate. After donning her boots and heading out the cabin door, she couldn't help but hope Killian would approve.

~/~

Several dozen pairs of eyes locked onto her as she and Eloise approached the shore of the lake. Her nerves became palpable once again, but all seemed to melt away when she caught sight of Killian. Having already entered the water, he had not waded out too far for her to miss the stunned expression that overtook him when she came into view. A bright smile lit up his face, and she knew she wore one to match. He held out his arms, beckoning her forward to take his hands, but her path became blocked before she could set foot in the water.

"You look lovely, sister," Neal praised with a friendly smile, stepping out from the crowd to stand before her. "But there's something amiss. Allow me."

His hand gently pulled at the chain resting at the side of her neck until the cross pendant pulled free from beneath the collar of her dress. Adjusting its position, his fingers grazed her collar bone and she had to force herself to not physically recoil from his touch. His eyes lingered on her chest again, and Emma now knew the inappropriateness of his gaze was intentional when he finally raised his head and she saw the salacity swimming in his eyes.

Reality came surging forward in that moment when she caught a similar gleam in the eyes of other men who were assembled on the shore. Foreboding skittered across her skin. Rising dread and the frigid water creeping up her body as she made her way into the lake threatened to steal her breath. Her feet kept moving of their own accord even as her mind raced. Something wasn't right here. Things suddenly felt terribly wrong to her, but she had no other choice than to reach out and take Killian's hands.

"You look beautiful, Swan," he murmured compliment made her heart skip despite the trepidation that was still seeping into her.

She didn't hear anything of the prayer he offered, too preoccupied with calming her mind and pulse. A chorus of amens alerted her to the end of the blessing and she felt Killian start to wrap his arms around her.

"Hold on to me, love," he advised as he adjusted his stance, bracing himself to support her weight.

Draping an arm over his shoulder and around his neck, Emma prepared herself for full submersion in the lake. With great care, Killian tilted her back until the world around her disappeared and she found herself cut off in a moment of peaceful serenity. All too soon, Killian's strong arms pulled her from beneath the surface of the water where she was met with the shock of the brisk evening air hitting her wet skin. Before she could open her eyes she was met with yet another shock. Soft, warm, supple lips pressed against hers as his arms tightened around her. Emma allowed herself a moment to bask in the feel of her body pulled flush against his, her hand moving to cup the side of his jaw before her good sense returned.

Jarring back, she blinked the lake water from her eyes and stared up at Killian. He wore a soft smile that did not match his eyes, which were full of apologetic remorse. Emma stepped back further and his arms released her without hesitation. Despite the sense of loss she felt at no longer being held in his embrace, Emma spun around and headed back towards the crowd at the shoreline.

Eager hands and murmurs of congratulations rubbed against her unwelcomingly as she shivered in a state of paralyzed shock at the entire event. A plush towel wrapped around her shoulders, and she could feel Killian's presence behind her.

"Let's go get you warm and dry, love," he encouraged in her ear before steering them through the throng of community members.

They were followed by a myriad of looks, from envious to predatory to genuinely pleased, and not for the first time, Emma silently wondered what the hell she'd gotten herself into.