When I Jab You With My Sword
CS Genre: CS future fic (referencing 2x9)
Emma gripped her sword tightly, dancing lightly on the balls of her feet, mentally preparing her attack. She sized up her opponent, adrenaline pumping through her. She couldn't afford to fail. Not again. Way, way too much was riding on this sword fight.
With a fierce battle cry, Emma attacked, springing forward, bringing her sword down as hard as she could. It connected with the honed steel of his blade, and Emma felt the reverberation all the way up her arm. Emma fought fiercely, calling upon all her training, all her cunning, all her physical strength, but her opponent met her blow for blow.
Finally, in one last, desperate move, Emma used Killian's spin and attack move. Her muscles were screaming at her. If this move didn't work, she was out of options.
He anticipated her motion, easily disarming her, and she fell to the ground defeated.
Killian reached his hand down to help her up, a cocky grin in place. "I taught you the spin move, darling," he drawled, "I can anticipate it a realm away. Didn't I tell you? When I jab you with my sword, you'll feel it."
Emma frowned, grabbed his hand, and tugged. Killian lost his balance and fell to the ground, twisting awkwardly to avoid falling on top of her. Emma took the advantage, rolling on top of him, straddling him and bringing her sword to his neck. "Hm…kind of looks like the other way around now, doesn't it?"
Killian laughed, dropped his sword and put his hand and hook up in surrender. "You've bested me love. I concede defeat."
Emma grinned down at him. "Damn right I did!"
She leaned down and kissed him, meaning to keep the gesture light and playful, but as usual, things quickly became heated and passionate. Within moments Emma's mind was moving toward the moments earlier that morning when Killian had also…jabbed her with his sword.
They were newlyweds after all. She didn't know if they'd ever get enough of each other, and she kind of hoped they wouldn't. She kind of hoped they'd be that little old couple stealing kisses on the park bench and weirding out their great grandkids like they currently weirded out Henry.
She was just about to suggest they take things somewhere more private, when it suddenly hit her.
"Killian," she said, sitting up and looking down at him with troubled eyes.
He eyed her warily, as always attuned to her mood. "What's the matter, Swan?"
"You let me win," she said. "Here I thought I 'bested' you, and the whole time you let me beat you!"
Killian got to a seated position. "On the contrary love. I may have disarmed you, but your cleverness earned you the victory in the end."
"I'm not talking about today, Killian," Emma said, her agitation growing. "I'm talking about before. You know, back at Lake Nostos. I was so convinced that I got the better of you, but you were just toying with me! You could have killed me about ten times over before I punched you out."
Killian looked to the side, guilt written clearly over his face, and Emma knew she was right. "Why?" she asked finally. "Why would you let me win? You and Cora were about to get everything you wanted—a trip to Storybrooke and us left behind. Why jeopardize that by sparing me?"
~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~
Lake Nostos, just after the 1st Dark Curse broke
Killian looked with wonder at the swirling vortex in the middle of a lake that only moments before had been dry ground. The strength of Cora's magical power was rather disconcerting, but in this case, it was just about to get him to the crocodile, so he decided not to question his fortune.
"Ready?" Cora asked, holding out her hand.
He nodded, took her hand and prepared to jump, when suddenly an arrow shot forth, knocking the compass from Cora's hand, just as a very familiar voice shouted "Hey!" in the background.
His heart lurched. Swan. He'd recognize her voice anywhere.
His thoughts swirled as Cora ordered him to go retrieve the compass, to go keep Swan occupied. Swan was beautiful, there was no denying that, and something about her called out to him in a way nothing had in years. She was fiery, passionate, and she had the kind of brokenness behind her eyes that he recognized in himself.
He'd thought she was a kindred spirit. Climbing the beanstalk, sharing an adventure with her had woken something within him that had been dormant since his beloved Milah had been ripped from him. For a few bright, blazing hours he thought maybe there was something yet left for him. For the first time in centuries, he began to think of a future for him after he'd killed the crocodile. Perhaps he needn't go out in a blaze of glory. Perhaps there was yet joy waiting for him.
And then she'd betrayed him. She'd chained him to the beanstalk and stolen the compass for herself. It had hurt more than he cared to admit.
But it had brought everything into stark clarity once again. His purpose wasn't to pursue…or be sidetracked…by a pretty blonde distraction. His purpose was to avenge Milah's death. In a way, Swan had done him a favor there on the beanstalk. He'd thank her, if the pain of betrayal wasn't still stinging in his veins.
Hook's purpose was clear. He must get the compass and leave with Cora. He couldn't afford to fail, and so he'd run past the vortex, straight at Emma Swan.
If any part of him hoped she'd give up without a fight, he was sorely disappointed. She came charging at him with a fierce cry, sword raised. She was fueled by rage—and not a shred of finesse or skill. If Hook had to guess, she'd rarely picked up a sword in her life.
It would be a simple thing to take her out right here and how. A simple thrust of his sword and she'd be nothing but another in a long line of bodies he'd strewn in his wake.
But he couldn't do it. He couldn't kill her. Not with this connection hanging between them. Not when she fought with the heart of a warrior to return to her son. He'd be damned before he willingly orphaned yet another lad.
And so he remained on the defensive, parrying her blows, offering none of his own. He didn't need her blood on his hands to get the revenge he so desperately deserved.
~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~
Killian shrugged, and then reached up to scratch at the spot behind his ear. "I knew with the lake's regenerative properties Cora and I had a way to Storybrooke even if you were to obtain the compass. I had the bean the giant kept, after all."
Emma looked at Killian for a long moment, and then shook her head. "That's not all, is it? That's not the only reason you let me win."
He colored slightly, but then turned to look her in the eyes. "No. I couldn't do it, Emma. I couldn't harm you. Somehow even then, though it would be some time before I admitted my feelings even to myself, I felt something for you like I'd never felt for anyone before. Even then, even with revenge eating me alive, I'd rather cut off my remaining hand than harm you."
Emma felt her eyes mist. Sometimes the depth of love and devotion in this man's eyes overwhelmed her. She'd never even imagined being cherished like that.
She leaned forward and captured his lips once again. She'd never been particularly eloquent with words, but she could speak with her actions, and she poured every drop of her love into this kiss.
When it finally came to an end, Emma leaned her forehead against Killian's and whispered, "Thank you."
"Of course."
"Now," Emma said getting to her feet and offering Killian a hand to do the same, "how about we head back to our place and you can show me some of those 'more enjoyable' things you prefer to do with a woman on her back."
Notes:
-Jotting this down quickly before the Chicago Con really gets underway. It still feels kind of surreal that I am actually at a Once Upon a Time convention and I'll get to see so many actors in real life (including COLIN tomorrow! Incidentally, this may be the very last edition of Fluffy Fridays I ever write. Actually, meeting the man may kill me, lol.) Okay, so I finished writing the story before the con really started, but I didn't finish editing and posting until nearly the end of Friday…but it's still Friday, so I met my deadline!
-This particular story was born out of my musings about season 2. We all know, don't we, that Killian threw that sword fight? No way a 300-year-old, naval trained fighter legitimately got beaten by a woman who had picked up a sword for the first time like a week ago. Not a chance. We know that, but I started to wonder if Emma knows it. Thus, this story!
-Up next: I think I'm going to go with another future fic based on my experiences this weekend. In next week's edition, Henry talks Emma and Killian into taking him to a Peter Pan convention. Killian is less than impressed with the character bearing his name…