Chapter 5

Killian ran his hand down his face, an exhausting tension clenching at his shoulders as he pulled in a stinging breath from the cold night air. The shift in the day's weather mirrored the upheaval in the overall atmosphere of his world. Just as summer had seemed to come to an abrupt end, with the dropping temperatures and bluster of northerly winds, so too had the sweet camaraderie he'd established with Emma. Swept away by the reveal of a cold, harsh reality.

He wished he could go back and tell her the truth from the beginning.

"How's Alice?"

Robin's question cut through the turmoil of Killian's thoughts, allowing him to take a moment's refuge.

"She's sleeping now. Eloise believes she'll be fine by morning."

Robin nodded. "I'm sure she will be. She always bounces back quickly from these episodes."

"Aye." Killian looked back over his shoulder at the structure that housed his little starfish. He hated having to leave her there in the care of her mother, but he had no other choice. Taking solace in the fact that his Alice was at least at peace in her dreams, Killian turned his thoughts back to the pressing matter still awaiting his attention this evening. "Where's Emma?"

"In your cabin," Robin answered. "Waiting for you."

Killian filled his lungs again before exhaling a lamented breath. "I've messed everything up. I shouldn't have brought her here."

"Why did you?"

Killian shook his head and stared at his feet. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do," Robin pressed, causing a surge of irritation to flair within Killian.

"It doesn't matter now."

"Of course it does." Robin stepped forward and placed a hand on Killian's shoulder. "Look, mate. I know you've been beating yourself up for not being honest with Emma, but you brought her here for a reason and knowing you… it was as much for her benefit as yours."

"How do you know that?" Killian snapped. "How do you know it wasn't out of some selfish desire to use her in order to help me and Alice?"

"Because I know you." His grip tightened, forcing Killian to look his friend in the eye. "You aren't Malcolm. You aren't Neal, or Eloise, or any of them. Maybe you didn't do things properly, but you can confess it all to her now."

"What's the point? She'll just insist on leaving anyway, and I've already given my word to help her escape."

"Trust me on this, mate," Robin implored. "Tell her your story, come clean about your motives - all of them - and she'll stay."

Killian tried to smother the hope that flared in his chest at his friend's words. "How can you be so sure?"

Robin shrugged and removed his hand. "Call it a hunch," he said with a wink and cheeky grin before walking off and disappearing into the blackness of the night.

~/~

When Killian entered his cabin he found Swan sitting on the sofa, head in hands with her elbows braced against her knees. Her head shot up at the sound of the door and she stood quickly.

"Is Alice okay?"

"She's fine," Killian assured her. "She's resting comfortably now."

"What, uh… what happened? Why did she… what's wrong with-"

Emma couldn't seem to articulate the questions she must have been pondering since meeting Alice, and his heart stuttered at the care and concern evident in Emma's tone and demeanor for his daughter. Offering her a small smile of understanding he suggested, "Why don't you sit down Swan, and I'll explain everything. As promised."

Emma complied, resuming her place on the sofa while Killian positioned himself on the edge of his bed, using the expanse of the room to create a comfortable distance between them. His heart pounded in his chest, thoughts whipping wildly through his mind as Swan's eyes pierced him with their intense and expectant stare.

Killian ran his palms, now damp with a slick sheen of anxiety over the tops of his thighs and gave a wryly amused huff before muttering, "I'm not sure where to begin."

"Begin with Alice," Emma prompted. "What's wrong with her?"

"We don't really know," Killian sighed heavily. "She's been ill for most of her life, but no one has been able to find a definitive reason as to why."

"Are there no doctors here?"

"No. Only healers." Killian's jaw clenched, causing his next words to snap out with a tight force. "Well, healer. Singular. We used to have a doctor as part of the community, but he strayed from the true path."

"Robin said something similar about the blacksmith that was here before. What exactly does that mean? What happened to them?"

Killian wet his lips and took a fortifying breath, readying himself to express the first of many atrocities Swan would have to endure the telling of this evening. "They openly challenged Malcolm, our former lead elder, Neal's grandfather." He leaned forward and fixed Emma with a stern look, warning, "Voicing an opinion against the elders is not wise, especially when it is purported that one hears directly from God Himself."

"You mean Neal?" Killian nodded. "So, everyone here believes that Neal speaks for God? Why?"

"Because, according to Malcolm, someone has to. And, no. Not everyone believes Neal actually speaks for God, but they're all too afraid of… straying from the path."

An expression of dread passed over Emma's features, and she swallowed thickly before asking, "What happens when people stray from the path?"

"The official story is that they are asked to leave the village, shunned from the community and forced to make it on their own out in the world. In truth…" Killian trailed off, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to see Emma's reaction. "They are taken out into the woods, tied to a tree, and left for the beasts."

Emma's horrified gasp filled the cabin. "God, Killian. Who are you people?"

Killian's eyes snapped open and he turned his imploring blues onto her. "I told you, Swan. I am a man who has been forced to sit by and watch his beliefs be twisted into something reprehensible. I've obeyed their rules, played along as a good little community member, and elder, in order to survive. But I am not one of them."

"No, you're not. I'm sorry." There was no way for Killian to suppress his stunned response to her words. His lips parted and his brows shot up his forehead at the earnest look of understanding she was giving him. "What I don't understand," she began softly, "is how this all happened? How did the village go from the refuge your parents and others first hoped it would be to… this."

"How do any atrocities come to be, Swan?" Killian posed. "One compromise at a time."

Emma chewed on his words for a moment. "When did it start?"

Killian thought back, searching his memory for what might have been the first catalyst towards corruption. "Probably when Neal's father sponsored a young girl by the name of Belle," he concluded. "She was brought to the village not long after my father disappeared. She and a few others, survivors of the pestilence, wishing to join the community for protection. I think she must have been about fifteen or sixteen? She was sponsored by the Cassidys, but a few months later it became apparent that something… untoward was happening."

"What do you mean?"

"Belle began to show."

"She was pregnant?"

"Aye. By Neal's father. A man old enough to be her father."

"Oh, my God." Emma's nose crinkled in disgust.

"Aye. That was most people's reaction, until Malcolm ordained that God blessed the union. Belle was the first to become tied to her sponsor, but it would be several years before the two events would become synonymous with one another."

"So, you weren't automatically tied to Eloise when she became your sponsor?"

"No. There was a time when each event was distinct from one another; a baptism to cleanse you of the pestilence and commit yourself to the village and its teachings, sponsorship for newcomers or those orphaned within the village, and a tying ceremony to bind a couple before God. The events could be combined into one ritual, but it wasn't until about seven years ago that sponsoring and tying became one and the same."

"So even though you were about fifteen or sixteen - based on how old Alice is - when Eloise sponsored you, she didn't try to tie-"

"Thirteen."

"What?"

"I was thirteen when Eloise sponsored me. Fifteen when she became pregnant and sixteen when Alice was born."

Emma's mouth fell open. "Thirteen? She… you… thirteen?"

"That didn't happen right away," he said, knowing exactly where her mind had gone, based on the look of outrage that riddled her brow.

"How did it happen?" Killian balked and his pulse started to race from his initial interpretation of her question. "Not… I mean… not that," she clarified hurriedly, and Killian took in a deep breath, relieved that he'd misunderstood her meaning. He wasn't sure he was prepared to tell her about that just yet. "How did she become your sponsor in the first place? Why her?"

"From what I gather, she volunteered after Liam died."

"What happened to him?" Emma asked softly, with an unexpected look of compassion swimming in her eyes.

"The Changing." The words were barely audible as they crossed his lips, as was the soft gasp that fell from hers. "He'd gone into the city with a few others to scavenge for supplies. By the time they'd returned, they were all exhibiting signs of the disease." Killian swept a hand through his hair then rubbed his palms back and forth along his thighs again before balling his fists atop his legs. "Malcolm decreed that they be taken into the woods by their kin and given a merciful death."

"Their kin? You mean-"

"Aye," he interrupted, catching her wide, disbelieving eyes with his own while confessing in a stuttering of strained words. "I shot… I shot my own brother." His teeth ground together, making the muscle in his jaw jump as he desperately clung to any measure of composure he could muster in order to get the words out. "Then I had to shoot Neal's father, who had been a part of the expedition with Liam, because Neal couldn't bring himself to do it. We… We weren't allowed to bury them. Had to just… leave them there. Tied to a tree. For the animals to scavenge."

Emma's eyes fell shut, a single tear escaping her lashes, inviting the ones pooling in his vision to join in its escape. Killian shook his head and cleared his throat, relieving some of the tightness gripping his chest.

"When we returned to the village, we were forced into isolation pits for observation, to ensure we hadn't contracted the sickness."

"How long did they keep you there?"

"Ten days," Killian answered hollowly.

For a moment he was transported back to that dark, dank pit. The bitter cold that gnawed at his bones at night. The hunger and thirst that had plagued him. Days spent overcome with grief and guilt while fear ran rampant as he waited for the signs to manifest themselves. Signs that would indicate he too might be sick. The mixture of contradictory prayers he'd sent up, begging God to save him from such a fate in one breath while hoping for the Change so he could be reunited with his family in the next.

"Once it was apparent that none of us were affected, they released us. Everyone returned to their remaining families, to their homes, except for me. Eloise stepped forward and declared herself my Sponsor, Malcolm approved it, and I was moved into her cabin later that day."

The bed creaked and dipped beside him. He hadn't even realized Emma had gotten up and walked over until she was seated next to him.

"I'm so sorry, Killian," she whispered with a sniffle. "Losing those we love is hard enough, but to be so young and… God," she closed her eyes again and swallowed thickly, "to have to shoot your own brother at thirteen? How do you ever get over something like that?"

"You don't," he offered wryly before giving her something that might resemble a smile, grateful for her comfort, though he knew he didn't truly deserve it.

Emma sat patiently while Killian stumbled through the story of being in Eloise's care. How the hugs and affectionate touches had at first been a welcomed comfort after losing his brother, but eventually grew... unwelcomed.

Killian tried to be as vague as he could, for Emma's sake, but each memory the tale dredged up played itself in vivid detail upon his mind's eye, forcing him to relive the degradation and shame. Reminders of the way his adolescent body had unwillingly turn traitor to her advances, forcing him into a pattern of self-harm. How he learned early on to be wary of any offer of food or drink from her hand, lest it be drugged; a warning he passed to Emma, making her promise to not accept provisions from anyone within the village.

When Killian turned fifteen, believing he was old enough and strong enough to survive on his own, he began making plans to escape. Plans, he theorized, Eloise must have become suspicious of, allowing herself to become pregnant in order to force him into staying. A theory Emma vehemently agreed with, especially when Killian told her how Eloise held little to no affection for the baby all through her pregnancy and even after Alice's birth. Most of the time it had been left to him to care for their child, he'd even been the one to name her when Eloise couldn't be bothered, so he'd chosen Alice, after his mother.

The confidence to strike out on his own, even with the added responsibility of his little girl, came again when Alice was about five. An influx of newcomers into the village offered him an opportunity to finally get out from under Eloise's roof, which he'd hoped would provide him the freedom to plan his and Alice's escape without drawing her suspicion.

"There were more children than village families capable of taking them in," Killian explained. "Malcolm suggested placing them under one roof and under the care of one of the single women. He asked the elders to bring nominations for who might be the best candidate. I nominated Eloise."

"But," Emma furrowed her brow, "she wasn't single. She had you and Alice."

"That's exactly what Victoria said, until I reminded her that Eloise and I were not tied to one another," he replied with a smirk. "I told the elders I couldn't think of a more suitable mother to all those orphaned children than the woman who'd borne my Alice, that I felt God was calling her to such a purpose. Who was I to stand in the way of that calling?"

"And they bought that?" Emma scoffed with a raised brow.

"No… but once Neal declared before the village that it was indeed God's will that Eloise oversee the children as village mother, they could hardly argue with God now could they?"

Emma pursed her lips together, fighting back a smile from the wink he gave her, and a fresh hope unfurled in Killian's chest that Robin's earlier assertions would prove true. That she would choose to stay after all.

"So, Eloise became the guardian over the children, and… wait. Weren't you worried about what she might do to them? After what she'd done to you?"

Killian sobered as prickles of guilt crept up his spine. "Honestly? I think I was too caught up in my own desperation to get away from her that I… I was selfish," he admitted. "But I don't believe she's abused any of those in her charge as she did me. She's been too preoccupied with Alice's illness, and trying to draw me back to her, to concern herself with any of them."

"So, Alice does live with her full-time, then?" Emma inquired.

"She never used to," Killian said wistfully. "Those first few months of our separation, Alice spent most of her time with me. Then, right before I had everything prepared to take her away from here, she started to get sick."

"Well, that's convenient," Emma snarked. Her tone and expression relayed the thoughts that mirrored Killian's own.

"Indeed," Killian muttered darkly.

"You believe she's making Alice sick, don't you?"

"Aye. But proving it," he sighed, "that is another matter entirely."

"What are her symptoms?"

"Light sensitivity, weakness in her extremities, and fatigue are the more common ones," he recounted. "When things get really bad, she becomes physically ill and sometimes has seizures… as you saw."

"And this has been going on for the past seven years?"

Killian nodded mournfully. "You remember I said we had only one healer?"

"Yes?" Emma's eyes widened in realization. "Eloise? She's the healer?"

"So, you see my problem," Killian stated. "Alice was moved to the children's compound permanently on Eloise's orders, so she could look after her."

"To keep her sick, more likely," Emma scorned.

"Aye. And to keep me on a leash." Killian stood from the bed and began pacing the length of the room with a limping gait. Rage churned in his gut. He'd never voiced these speculations aloud before and having Swan agree with him, to hear the words come from her mouth that his daughter may very well have been systematically poisoned for years by the woman who was supposed to love and cherish her, made his blood boil and vision go red.

"What do you mean, keep you on a leash?"

"Men are not permitted in the children's compound," Killian explained. "An exception is made for me as Alice's father, but only when permitted by Eloise. If I want to see Alice, I have to… play nice."

Emma's brows shot up, and the disgusted look she'd worn whilst Killian told her about his years in Eloise's care was scrunched across her face. "You mean…"

"No," he stated emphatically, halting in the center of the room. "Not since our separation."

"What then?"

"My support on the elder council, for one," Killian replied. "When Malcolm died, so did her strongest ally."

"Looked to me like she, Neal, and Victoria made for cozy bedfellows." Emma shuddered and Killian let out an amused huff. "That is not how I meant that."

"I know, Swan," he assured her. "Eloise and Victoria are usually of one mind, but Neal can be something of a wild card. Eloise knows that she can get me to vote her way if need be. All she has to do is withhold Alice from me."

"So, how do we get Alice out of there?"

Killian took a step towards the bed then grabbed onto the back of his desk chair for support, his knees suddenly feeling weak. "Does that mean?" Killian's heart raced in his ears as he searched Emma's determined face. "You'll stay? You'll stay, and help me?"

"I'll stay and help her." She stood and took a few steps to close the distance between them, narrowing her eyes at him. "But once the three of us are out of here, that's it. We go our separate ways. Agreed?"

"Of course," Killian agreed. "I haven't divulged the location of your cabin to anyone in the community, so you'll be safe to return there once we're away from here, if that's what you choose to do. Although..."

"Although, what?"

"I'm not entirely sure you'll be safe there for too much longer."

Emma worried her lip, chewing on his words as she did the tender flesh with her teeth. "Because of the Berserkers," she reasoned.

"I know you may not believe this, but that was another reason as to why I wanted you to come with me to the village. I feared it was only a matter of time before the Berserkers found you. They seem to be branching out from the city. Probably looking for areas with greater resources after they've stripped all they could from there. "

A pensive look passed over Emma's face, then she looked up him with a fresh question burning in her eyes. "You said something about the mountains to Neal when we first arrived. About there not being many people left there, but you… you were never in the mountains, were you?"

"No," he answered before returning to his seat on the edge of the bed. "I was tasked to go there and find others who might want to join our flock, but I took the opportunity to do some scouting instead."

"For what?" Emma asked, resuming her place beside him.

"A place to relocate with Alice."

"But… you had no way of getting her out?"

"I had faith," he said quietly, then turned his eyes to her. "A faith that… led me to you." Her lips parted, a startled gasp passing over them as she held his gaze. "I was wrong to deceive you, Swan. And I'm not going to say it was God's will for you to be here, even though I do think you are an answer to my prayers. I should have trusted God enough to be honest with you, to allow you to choose your own fate."

"Yeah, you should have," Emma said in response. "But I get what's at stake for you here. And for Alice. So, I'm willing to do what I can."

Killian choked back the emotional lump of relief that had formed in his throat. "Thank you, love."

"Don't thank me yet," she grumbled without protest to the endearment that slipped past his lips. "We still have to figure out how to get Alice out of here when Eloise has her on lock down 24/7. Hang on… if Eloise keeps her confined to her room, then how did she get out tonight?"

"I've no idea," Killian confessed. He'd been pondering that himself. "To my knowledge, she's never done that before."

"Do you think she'd be able to do it again?" Emma asked with a conspiratorial glint in her eye.

"Only one way to find out," Killian replied with a matching glint. "Why don't we ask her tomorrow?"

~/~

The following day, Emma pounded out her frustrations on one of the many pieces of metal meant to serve as a repair to the weaponry of the village. Eloise had denied Killian's request that they be able to visit Alice, citing the girl's episode from the previous evening as having taken too much of a toll on her for visitors. All the while, the odious woman alluded to her dissatisfaction at the way Killian had treated her since returning to the village, forcing him to jump through her hoops in order to make amends. The sight of which made Emma's stomach turn.

As did the falseness he exuded with just about everyone he encountered in the village, taking on a persona that was almost unrecognizable to her.

"Whatever that bit of metal did to offend you, remind me to not make the same mistake," Robin quipped from behind her.

Billowing steam and the hiss of cooling metal filled the forge when Emma quenched the piece she'd been working on. Setting aside her work, she removed her gloves and eyewear and picked up her canteen.

"Come to check up on me?"

"Yes," he replied matter-of-factly to her surly tone.

"Well, you needn't bother. I'm fine." She took a sip of much needed water, her eyes sliding over to where Killian and Eloise were sat talking with a few other community members, the woman's hands finding excuses to touch him every chance they got.

"Mhmm," Robin hummed with a raised brow, following her line of sight. "I can see that."

Emma stoppered her canteen and turned her attention back to the forge, pulling on the bellows rope to stoke the flames even as she placed a dampener on the feeling of something unpleasant flaring to life in her gut.

"I just don't understand how he can sit there and act like everything is fine," she muttered under her breath when Robin stepped up beside her to offer his assistance. Her voice kept low lest anyone overheard. "Knowing what she did to him, to Alice, I can't stand to watch as she continues to take advantage of him. And he just lets her."

"What would you have him do?" Robin questioned. "Should he openly challenge another elder and risk being expelled from the community?"

"But he's an elder too, isn't he?"

"That doesn't make us immune from judgement. Killian knows I'd support him, but Victoria will always side with Eloise. That leaves the final say up to Neal, and although he and Killian were quite close once, there is no guarantee our prophet of God would discern Killian's way as being of the true path."

Emma shuddered, remembering what happened to those who strayed from that path.

"Still," she groused, "It's hard to see him having to act this way."

"I imagine it would be. You've had the rare opportunity of getting to know Killian for who he truly is. The man he is when he doesn't have to guard his thoughts and words too closely." Robin looked down on her with a soft smile. "I used to think I was the one who knew him best, but I'm pretty sure you've gotten to see more of the real him over the course of just a few days than I have in all these past years."

Robin left her to mull over his words as she finished work on the repair she'd started earlier. She hadn't considered that reality before now; the reality that she just might know Killian better than anyone. She couldn't say why, but the idea of it filled her with a sense of satisfaction, and settled that part of her that still questioned whether or not she could trust him. Yes, he'd brought her here under false pretenses, and she still felt that there was something he was holding back, but perhaps, just perhaps, she hadn't been wrong about him, after all.

"Pleasant thoughts, Sister Emma?"

Neal's voice broke her from the reverie, forcing the delicate smile she hadn't realized she was sporting into something tight and forced. "Pleasant enough, Mr. Cassidy."

"I'm glad." He stepped into the forge and closer into her personal space, leaving her feeling trapped with the flames at her back. "It's good to see you're adjusting to our ways so quickly."

Emma could sense an underlying inquiry beneath his words, and felt it as his eyes combed over her. Her cheeks flared when she realized he might be trying to perceive evidence of what had transpired between her and Killian the previous evening. For all intents and purposes, as far as the village was concerned, it would have essentially been their wedding night.

"Yes," she replied in a slightly strained tone. "Everyone has been so kind."

He took another step forward and Emma could somehow sense Killian's eyes on them. Briefly she flicked her gaze towards him, the tension he'd been subtly holding in his jaw and shoulders at being in Eloise's presence had increased tenfold. His expression was thunderous, and reminded her of the look he'd worn when she was threatened by the two men in the woods.

"You'll let me know if you have any trouble adjusting, won't you?"

Emma gave a sly shake of her head, pretending to force wisps of her hair from her face while really relaying to Killian that she didn't need him to intervene, worried what he might do or say that could potentially result in catastrophic consequences.

"Of course, Mr. Cassidy." Emma applied the overly courteous tone she'd heard Neal and Killian converse in the day before, and further forced her smile. "It's kind of you to be concerned with my adjustment here in the village, but I assure you Killian has been quite thorough in his duties as my Sponsor, helping me… adjust." A dark shadow passed over Neal's stare, sending a small shudder down her spine. Knowing she'd have to tread a fine line of cordiality with the man, she appealed, "There is something you might be able to assist me with, though."

"Name it," he stated, leaning in as if expecting her to whisper it in his ear.

"Alice."

"What?" Clearly, that was not what he'd been expecting or hoping she'd say.

"I'd like the opportunity to get to know Alice. I know she isn't well, and that Eloise only has her best interests at heart, but," she continued on sweetly. "Perhaps you could persuade her to allow me to visit? If not today, then maybe tomorrow?"

"I'll talk with her," Neal promised. "If I am able to get Eloise to agree to a visit, then perhaps you'd be willing to do a favor for me?"

Emma's skinned crawled. The lecherous look she'd seen in his eyes the day before was back. Her pulse raced with panic, she hadn't expected him to turn the tables on her that way.

"I… uh…"

"Ready for lunch, love?" The welcomed sound of Killian's lilt washed over her in a wave of relief. Brushing past Neal, he came to stand next to her, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her into his side. "I hate to take you from the heat of the forge, seeing as how a cold front seems to be moving in, but you've been hard at work all morning. You should stop for sustenance."

"Yes. You're right," she said looking up at him with a smile. Not the forced one she'd given Neal, but one similar to those he'd been able to pull from her during their trek to the village.

"Care to join us, brother?" Killian offered politely to Neal, his arm still wrapped possessively around her.

"Thank you, but I have another matter to tend to," he declined, giving them a nod, and her a final perusal, before making his way to the square where Eloise still sat, watching them with narrowed eyes.

"You alright, Swan?" Killian murmured low as they strolled to the building that acted as the community dining hall.

"Yeah," she sighed. "He just gives me the creeps, is all."

"What did he say to you?"

"Nothing worth repeating."

Killian stopped then pulled them between two buildings. Pressing her against the exterior wall of one of the structures, he then braced himself close to her with his arm propped against its surface just above her shoulder, keeping them out of sight from the milling crowd on their way to the midday meal.

"It's not nothing, Swan," he insisted, his voice not much above a whisper. "Everything Neal says is nuanced. It's important you tell me so I can anticipate any traps he may try and set for us."

"Traps?"

"He speaks for God, remember? His word is law within the village. All he has to do is say something is God's Will, and he can change the status quo."

"I don't understand what you're trying to say," Emma said with furrowed brows.

"I'm sure it hasn't escaped your notice that the female population within the village consists of little girls and crones. You're the first equitable match for most of the men here, including Neal, that we've seen in years."

"But, I'm… You're my Sponsor. We're tied. Bound in the eyes of God, according to the village's practices," Emma argued.

"Aye, but there have been cases of transferred Sponsorship before," he countered. "Instances where Sponsorship was deemed an unsuitable match for either party, and all rights of Sponsorship transferred to another." Emma swallowed thickly as his words sunk in, their meaning and potential probability of coming to fruition churned in her belly, making her lose her appetite. "I need to know exactly what Neal said and how you responded in order to make sure he can't twist your words into declaring me an unfit Sponsor."

Emma relayed all that Neal had said to her. In spite of the trepidation she could see swirling in his forget-me-not eyes, his lips curled into an amused smirk when she told him how she'd expressed his thorough efforts in helping her adjust to life within the village. His jaw tightened when she mentioned the request that Neal speak to Eloise on her behalf, and his expectation of a returned favor.

"You said nothing to indicate agreement, though?" he clarified.

"No. You came and asked me about lunch before I could say anything."

Killian leaned back off the wall and ran his hand over the scruff along his jaw, more beard than stubble after so many days of unkempt growth. Emma also noted the pallor of his skin and the dullness that had seeped into his usually bright eyes. "Alright," he said, after a few moments of contemplation. "We'll have to tread lightly in regards to the favor, but I don't think there's anything else he can use to his advantage, based on what you've told me. We'll just have to try and be as convincing as we can to be a happily, newly tied couple."

His last statement was given with a dose of apology lacing his words. It was something they had discussed before turning in the night before, selling the illusion to the villagers. They'd agreed upon holding hands and Killian having his arm around her whilst in public. A kiss on the cheek or one affectionately given at her temple was also permitted, but neither were comfortable with anything beyond that, not that such displays would be considered altogether appropriate for public viewing anyway.

Killian held out his hand with a tentative look of hopeful invitation. She laced her fingers with his and moved to exit the alleyway between the buildings when Killian swayed and pitched unsteadily forward.

"Whoa!" she exclaimed, catching him as he stumbled. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he waved her off. "Just lost my balance, is all. My foot still hurts like the dickens."

"Are you sure?" Emma pressed, now feeling how clammy his hand felt in hers. "You don't look too good."

"I'll be better once I've eaten," he assured her while prompting her towards the dining hall with the pull of her hand.

"Okay, but maybe you should take it easy this afternoon," she suggested. "Rest that foot."

"I will, Swan. Right after I make sure we've plenty of firewood for tonight." He flipped up the collar of his jacket with his free hand, attempting to ward off the chilled breeze. "I promise," he appeased with a soft smile.

~/~

The additional firewood was indeed warranted that night. Emma was roused from sleep by the feeling of something being draped over top her, awareness of the deep chill in the air seeping into her bones.

"What are you doing?" she murmured sleepily at the Killian shaped silhouette standing next to the bed.

"You're sh-shivering, love," Killian chattered. "Thought you c-could use another bl-blanket."

"There's only one extra blanket, Killian," she protested. "What about you?"

"J-Just added another log to the fire. I'll be fine, S-Swan."

Before he could turn and head back to the couch, Emma caught him by the wrist. "Killian, stop being an idiot and get under these blankets."

"What?"

"You heard me," she muffled from under the layers of warmth. "I think you might be coming down with something. We can't afford for you to get sick, so get under the damn blankets."

Without further protest, Killian padded his way to the other side of the bed and climbed beneath the covers. Even from the far edge of the bed he seemed determined to cling to, Emma could feel heat radiating off him. She sent up a quick prayer that a good night's rest would help him fight off whatever was ailing him and slipped back into the bliss of sleep.

It was still dark outside when Emma's sleep was disturbed for a second time. Unsure what it was that had awoken her, a pained moan answered that pondering as Killian lightly thrashed next to her.

"No," he murmured. "No. You said you wouldn't."

Emma reached over to try and shake him awake; a flare of panic sparked in her chest when she felt how hot his skin was beneath her hand.

"Stop!" Killian cried out in his nightmare, jerking away from her touch. "Please! I want you to stop. Don't do this, Eloise. Please!"

"Killian." Emma shook his shoulder, trying to break him free of the torment he was reliving in his dreamscape. "Killian, wake up."

He didn't wake, but he did calm at the sound of her voice. "Swan," he exhaled, his body relaxing momentarily before a chill rippled its way through his body, causing his teeth to chatter together.

This was more than a simple cold, Emma realized. A sinking dread took hold in the pit of her stomach, and she looked down his form towards his feet. Carefully, she unwrapped the bandages from his wound then held up the lantern she'd lit to inspect the injury. As she feared, infection had rooted itself in the gash that had yet to heal from the damage done by the bear trap, leaving it red and swollen with angry streaks spreading up his ankle and down towards his toes.

"Oh, God. Please, no," she despaired softly.