Killian was gone.
After Emma had finally gathered enough courage to leave her chambers the following morning, she had discovered that the cottage was empty. The doors to all the rooms were open, as if flung against the wall by a fierce wind ― and even Killian's bedroom was deserted, as if no one had ever lived there. The remaining silence reminded her of her dreams and her fears, the urge to run stronger than ever. When her leather pack had vanished upon her entering this realm, she had been slightly terrified of proceeding unarmed in enemy territory. Now it was the opposite: she wouldn't be able to bear it if she were abandoned by the one person who had a soul in this cursed land.
Absent-minded as ever, Neal was outside in his garden ― as always ― and when she timidly asked him if he had seen Hook this morning, he shook his head curtly and went back to tending the next row of carrots. Honestly, what was the point of growing vegetables if you weren't going to eat them? Emma thought to herself as she hiked up the hills in her desperate search.
She really didn't get it. Why was she looking for Killian in the first place, after he had tried to...to...to take advantage of her trust? When he was moody and too passionate for his own good, always heeding his impulses and relying too heavily on his instincts? When he was bloody Captain Hook, a bloodthirsty pirate? When he was nothing she was looking for, nothing she should have...but everything she wanted.
The sudden surge of longing that filled her senses in that moment enveloped her entire body in a wave of pure, white heat. She was burning...for him. Every touch, every look from last night, however brief and short-lived they all were, was tormenting her memory. Killian had been so wrong about the darkness, about the hideousness of his heart: she would not be so drawn to him if it were true. The light in him ― the light that he refused to see, that he kept hidden ― was calling to her own, and she could not believe that he was evil. He was fighting it, always relentlessly battling the darkness within and without; he was true and courageous. When their mouths had greedily joined, she had felt him ― felt his pain, his anger, his worry...and his capacity to love so deeply that the stars themselves could not outshine the strength of his heart, beating so firmly in his chest.
They were neither friends nor lovers, their ignorance and doubts hindering both chances. But circumstances didn't stop her from wanting them to happen. In a living netherworld rife with magic, she had found an enchanter who didn't want power but had it regardless and thought it a cruel chain. She had kissed a pirate who was accused of stealing love that had been freely given ― whose only crime was of loving too much, of wanting love too much. How many men were like that, that they would risk their lives for someone out of love?
Honestly, Rumplestiltskin had misjudged Hook out of bitterness, envy, and jealousy.
Again, she concluded that Killian's punishment didn't match his mistakes, that he had been a victim of seeking love, finding love, and losing love. In the end, his life was built on this, and although his love may have been flawed and even ruthless, he still clung to it. It was his faith...and there was no greater one than to believe in love itself.
How would it feel, to be loved like that? Unconditionally, thoroughly, and completely?
She was in the middle of the field right before the cottage when a thick, gray fog seemed to come from nowhere and sweep over it, obscuring her path. Then it descended, reaching her in seconds; it touched her skin, engulfing it like the river did its sandbank.
One moment she was walking on grass ― and the next she was stepping through air, too speechless to yell in protest before all went utterly black, as if day had suddenly turned into night.
When she smelled the all too familiar scent of burnt candle wicks and something else she couldn't quite place, Emma moaned softly, not wanting any light to pervade the new night and disturb her slumber.
"But I prefer it with the lights on, lass," a sultry voice stated, as if in answer to her unspoken question. The stench of flames eating at the air, accompanied by accumulating light, were what prompted Emma to open her eyes, only to see Killian peering down at her intently. Her head was resting on his lap, and he was clearly amused by her confused reaction to this fact.
Jolting upright, she realized that she had been lying down on straw. Straw? She was in a stable ― an empty stable. Since when was there a stable here?
After standing up gracefully, Killian took her hand and hauled her onto her feet, his eyes never leaving her face. She stared back, appraising him like he had her the first day they met. He looked exhausted, as if he hadn't slept in ages...but had he ever slept in this godforsaken place to begin with? And how could his expression be so blank, after all the trauma of last night?
Emma bit her lip, at a loss for what to say to the person she had rejected. "Why ― why am I here?" she managed to blurt out.
He indicated the stalls with his hand. "This is your first test," he said grandly, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "You do recall our deal, do you not?
She glanced around in disbelief. "Mucking out the stables is the test?"
He snickered. "No, darling ― the test has a different objective, you see. It's rather simple: stay the night here, don't try to run, and I'll come for you tomorrow morning. It's almost sunset, so―"
"Sunset?" she exclaimed in shock. "But it was just morning when I was...when I tried to..." He was smirking too knowingly at her, so she resigned herself to not finishing her statement or saying anything further.
"Like I was saying," he continued, "the test lasts from sunset to sunrise, and there are no doors, no exits. The goal is to survive, as the darkness will try you hard, and things are never as they appear to be..."
"And I have nothing but my bare hands to help me?" she protested.
"Would it help if you were all bare, love?" he remarked cheekily with a wink. "I certainly wouldn't mind that―"
The glare she gave him elicited pure silence. Clearing his throat, Killian clarified, "There is magic surrounding us, in the very air itself. Whatever you need will manifest itself to you, and should you need my assistance to leave at any time, you can call out my name and I will come."
She harrumphed, feeling insulted. "I'll be fine ― I can handle a challenge."
A warm, sad smile appeared on his lips. "Oh, I know," he murmured quietly, cautiously reaching out to softly stroke her cheek. When he made as if to move away, she leaned into his touch, covering his hand with her own ― an action that visibly shocked him.
"Emma..." His gaze was torn between her eyes and her lips. "You didn't want me...you said you didn't want me..." He was pleading so brokenly that it hurt to witness it. On the other hand, the way he said those words was so familiar...
She pressed a kiss to his palm, watching his eyelids flutter closed. "I never said that, Killian."
A gentle breeze blew over her face, and then her hands were seeking someone who was no longer there, an empty space. Until tomorrow, dearest, came a known whisper, the sound carried away by a final burst of wind. And when her heart leaped happily, she knew.
Straightening her posture, Emma resolved not to cry. She had no clue what was going to occur next, she was completely undefended, and she was alone. And only time would tell what was in store...
She must have fallen asleep again, because she was shaken out of her stupor by incessant pounding. At first, she thought that she had a headache and that was the reason for the noise. When the floor shook and the timbers of the roofs literally rattled from what could only be described as the most vicious, fervent chorus of neighing that she had ever heard in her life, Emma reassessed that opinion and jumped to her feet immediately, an uncanny trill of terror coursing through her mind on viewing the scene in front of her.
As far as she had seen, there were no animals here, with the exception of the two she'd befriended. However, here was a herd of horses of all breeds and colors, fillies and mares and stallions and colts racing towards her. Every movement of their flanks was more like gliding than striding, their stature worthy of monarchs and leaders, a magic of nature rather than of any other force. Magnificent steeds, all pawing the ground with their sharp hooves and snorting the air violently.
They looked like they were about to trample her.
Emma was backed against the farthest wall of the stable ― if it was real at all and not just another illusion ― and the tacks and reins, brushes and wide-toothed combs were pinching her shoulders dreadfully. She had always known that horses were as formidable at attack as any other living creature, but for them to advance on her, who had never even approached them...?
Wait ― the test. Rumplestiltskin had said that each test would target her greatest strengths and weaknesses. You are determined, brave, selfless, and compassionate ― as well as distrusting, doubtful, impulsive, willful, and obstinate. Beware of all these.
Right now, her instincts were telling her to run ― a dangerous impulse that Killian had warned her not to obey, an impulse that fear was solely dictating. And who knew if this was even the test or just a precursor meant to frighten her?
Taking a deep breath, Emma stood motionless before scrutinizing her challenge. They looked quite tempestuous, all anger and fire, but then one of the colts nearly fell as it trod forward and she suddenly noticed more than she had bargained for.
The burrs nestled in the stallions' manes and tails. The dirt and mud encrusted on the coats and legs of of the mares and fillies. The limping foals, all whinnying plaintively as they stepped alongside their mothers. In addition, they all were thin, bones showing through the skin, and their eyes were filled with pain. It was disheartening to see.
Focused on what she knew she had to do, she turned around to grab the items hanging behind her. This was no different from her own experiences at home, when she had to tend to her own steed after long rides and days spent in the grazing fields. Yes, this was exactly the same, and wherever they had come from, these poor equines had been obviously maltreated and malnourished ― which reminded her...
Many hours later, Emma was plopped on the ground, holding out another bucket of oats to the nearest foal. One mare was nuzzling her hair appreciatively, while two fillies were nipping at the ends of her long skirt which had pooled around her feet. The stallions were too busy snuggling with their mates to be bothered with their savior.
While she was quite euphoric, her bodily condition was not as well at the moment. The muscles in her arms were strained and overcome by recurrent spasms, her behind was burning, and her legs were cramping every so often. Washing, brushing, combing, and feeding more than a dozen horses at one time could that to a person ― and it had been no easy task to get the males to cooperate; the females had been decidedly gentler. In comparison, it had been a small mercy that all the supplies and tools she had needed were there and available to her.
She smelled like horse feed, she was bone sore, and she felt exhausted ― but it had been worth it, to see the horses relax and brighten from her ministrations.
Slowly, Emma lowered the bucket down and settled onto her side, sinking into the sweet straw. She didn't any more energy to wait for the test...it would have to wake her up.
Before her eyelids closed against her will, she faintly sensed one of the fillies nestling beside her, its warmth dispelling the cold rushing in from the outside...
She was plunging into lukewarm water, rising to meet the surface when she could no longer breathe. Something encircled her waist as she did so, pulling her against something hard, pliant, and tender.
Oh God.
Killian was smirking at her indulgently, purposely failing to hide how pleased he was by his mischievous antics.
"You rude, unfeeling rascal ― you tipped me out of the boat!" she shrieked in dismay while inspecting her soaked clothes and hair. Firmly placing her hands on his bare chest, she pushed him back, trying to escape his grasp.
"I thought you promised to go for a swim with me," he pouted, raising a brow in mock despair.
She snorted, splashing water during her frantic struggling which rained down on her head. "Haha ― well, I lied. I barely agreed to go out on the lake with you in the first place ― and it seems I was right to be so reluctant. You're worth nothing but trouble."
When he looked down despondently, she worried that she had truly hurt his feelings. This bubble of caring, of...love... It sprung quickly, making her blood grow hot until she was back within his reach, lifting his chin with her fingers.
"Killian? Killian...I'm sorry, I didn't mean that... I was just teas―"
He cut her off by kissing her passionately, tongues and lips and teeth melding together to create the perfect union. His hands ― his hands? ― were outlining her curves, her flesh trembling and sighing under his touch. He became more insistent the more she responded, her fingers entangled in his wet hair while she pressed further against him, wickedly wishing there were no clothes between them ― just skin...
"I think I'm in love with you." She pulled away in surprise, not sure she had really heard him correctly. Did he just―
"Emma," he murmured ardently, "I love you. I know ― you don't believe me, because of Milah. Once, she was the love of my life...but she died, and regardless of my desire for revenge, I was forced to move on. I'll never forget her, but...ever since I've met you, you've stirred my heart, made it beat again. It was close to surrendering to the darkness forever...but you stopped the war."
Her cheeks were surrounded by his hands, his fingers. "You fierce, beautiful girl ― you affect me like no other. I've never wanted anyone the way I want you ― never felt for anyone what I feel for you. And I would fight worse than Rumplestiltskin if you were ever taken from me."
She brushed her lips over his. "But you barely know me, Killian ― this must be a dream, if you're saying such things."
"Have you ever been in love, darling?" After she shook her head, he placed searing kisses along her face, her neck, her shoulders. "The heart knows best, and mine knows yours, despite everything. You and I, we understand each other. For after more than three hundred years of dying, I've finally found a reason to live again...and that reason is you."
Sitting up and rubbing her eyes, Emma gasped when her blurry vision cleared. The sensation of daylight heating her skin was unexpected ― wasn't she supposed to be in an almost windowless building? But then blades of grass brushed her skin, making her giggle involuntarily, and she finally was awake.
A hundred questions cornered her mind, and she didn't know which one to answer first, if she even could answer any of them. First of all, what the heck had happened to the stable, the horses...? And why was she lying in the middle of the meadow? From her vantage point, she had only to lie down flat on her stomach in order to fully view that grove of bending cypress trees that curved around the back door of the cottage.
Her legs wobbled dangerously as she scrambled to her feet, her head dizzy. In the distance she could see a figure approaching, and according to his height, it wasn't Killian.
It was Neal, and for the first time since she had arrived, he looked anxious.
"Emma? Where the hell have you been?" he shouted, nearly running toward her.
She strode carefully through the foliage, moistened by the morning dew, and reached his side. "I've completed the first of my tests, silly." She had attempted a flirtatious tone, but judging from Neal's expression, she had only worried him further.
He crossed his arms over his chest, clearly disgruntled. "Nothing about this is silly. For the first time in...I don't know how long...Hook has literally disappeared, and you right along with him. For a few hours, I got this horrible idea that I was all alone here."
She bit back a laugh ― she had never seen him act so serious before. He was a little boy again, tired of being left behind. However, the worst thing was that, as much as she pitied him, she couldn't make herself really like him. Oddly enough, though Neal was the purpose of her "mission," she had felt an instant connection to Hook, not the former Dark One's son, right when she had gained access to something even Rumplestiltskin could never touch.
She was at a loss, for more than one reason. Her last dream was more perplexing than the previous ones ― was it a fantasy based on the present, a recollection of the past, or a vision of the future? It was hard to categorize when lately she seemed to be having all of the above.
Of course he had called for her. Right before sunset, Emma had left a sleeping Neal inside the cottage, compelled to depart because some unnameable thing beckoned to her. She followed its song like one hypnotized, waiting patiently for fog to transport her to her destination like the night before.
Sunset climbed downward, a fissure of crimson and purple, and she was still standing in the same spot. While she reminded herself for the thirty-third time that the deal still stood, that there was no possibility Killian would forget it, she closed her eyes for a moment, worn out by the previous night's activities.
"Missing me, Swan?" The long black leather coat he was sporting was rather impressive: it reached down to his shins and the lapels almost touched his jawline.
She swallowed hard, suddenly not prepared to listen to his verdict. But she had to if the quest was to proceed at all. "As much as is possible," she countered dryly, smirking when he frowned at her vague reply.
After staring at his boots for several awkward minutes, Killian cleared his throat and fixated his gaze on her face. "Shall I tell you the long version or the short version?"
She sighed, exasperated by his penchant for playing games. "Did I succeed or not, Killian?"
His eyes softened on hearing his name pass her lips, and he paced forward until he was standing next to her. "You passed the test, darling ― and now, per our agreement, you can choose a reward."
Right, and now she would never be certain what exactly was the test to begin with. For the matter of their deal, she could not refuse what he asked her to do, and he could not refuse to give her what she asked of him. If either of them broke this "condition"...well, she didn't quite know what would result...
"I want a comb for my hair," she uttered formally, wincing at the tone of her voice. Rumplestiltskin was a creepy little bastard, but these rewards he had specifically told her to ask for were the icing on the cake, so to speak. She couldn't understand why it had to be a comb, but...
"Very well." His expression was blank when he waved his hand and the garish purple smoke encircled the object of her desire, a walnut-oak comb with finely carved teeth and elaborate scroll designs. She could feel it pulse with magic, but the electricity that warmed her fingertips when they met Killian's to take the comb was no less powerful.
Pocketing the item carefully, she waited for him to speak again. Instead, he was staring at her again, watching her every move ― and she was enjoying the pointed attention, the way he was admiring her body. He was so different from all the other men she had met ― so unique ― and she was glad that she had gained his respect.
"Are you ready?" His outstretched hand was so inviting that she accepted without delay. Would he have changed so much as a person if Rumplestiltskin had not cut off his other hand?
Emma hesitated before intertwining their fingers. "Let us go."
Not lingering as he had done the night before, Killian had left her without another word once she was settled in yet another mysterious building. Only this time, she didn't have to wait long to find out what was on the agenda.
Although her father had always adored dogs, keeping several of them as personal pets and more for the hunt, Emma had never liked their yapping, clinging, or jumping. Like her mother, she preferred cats, which never drooled on her feet and whose independent nature matched her own. Dogs were loud, obnoxious, and too physically demonstrative to be likeable ― which is why she was horrified to see a crowd of them running toward her.
Oh no. She was in a kennel. And those hounds nipping at her heels looked far from friendly.
When faced with growling, snarling canines, you are supposed to stand very still and maintain eye contact ― not run away. The temptation to do the latter was becoming stronger every moment Emma got another glimpse of sharp, snapping white teeth exposed by a feral smile, while she flinched at the repetitive barks biting her poor ears.
"Don't you have any toys you can play with?" she grumbled, lowering herself to the ground. If she was going to be torn to pieces, she might as well be comfortable first. Curiously, the dogs instantly relaxed, sitting down on their haunches and eyeing her quietly.
When the closest one whined, Emma threw her hands in the air. "What, you think you're lonely?" She sighed deeply. "Just seeing all of you reminds me of my dad..."
It was the longest one-sided conversation in history. In addition to capturing the dogs' undivided attention, Emma had uncovered some leather balls in the farthermost corner of the kennel and was throwing them leisurely, laughing when two of the hounds playfully fought over who was going to bring the ball back to her. This was kind of refreshing, actually ― no one demanding anything, no one ordering her about. If only life at the castle could be quite as peaceful.
Quickly tiring, the hounds soon gathered by her and snuggled together, forming a circle of warmth around her. Their steady breathing was the last thing she heard as she drifted off, imagining the sunrise...
Quiet woodland creatures of all varieties were there. Bunnies, squirrels, chipmunks, sparrows, deer, wild birds...they were on all sides, some of the braver ones begging to sit on her lap. Like mother, like daughter...
Dad always teased Mom when she went for a walk in the forest and a line of animals would trail after her. It was as if animals were intrinsically drawn to both Snow and Emma, trusting them on sight.
Humming slowly, she was petting each of them, grinning when the fawns ate from her hand. Then she was singing some wordless song, only silenced when two hands rested on her shoulders. "Hello, beautiful," he whispered, gently pulling her hair to the side and planting a kiss on her cheek.
She was dressed in a lacy white gown that reached her feet, and he was looking very dashing in a colorfully embroidered suit that was imperiously embellished by the long sword hanging from his belt.
His gloriously bright smile was the adorning finish, far richer and precious than any jewels. With him next to her, she felt like a queen... And he was her king.
He was on his knees now, wrapping his arms around her from behind in a loving embrace as he nuzzled the crook of her neck...
"Mama! Mama!" As if appearing out of thin air, two children were skipping toward them, but the animals didn't scatter. Instead, they joined the newcomers, following the sound of their joyous laughter.
The little girl who threw herself into her arms had blonde hair...blonde hair and striking blue eyes. And the little boy who went to Killian was dark-haired, green eyes twinkling mischievously.
She kissed the top of the girl's head, shivering when slender fingers tilted her chin upwards and her lips were captured by his passionate kiss.
Most of her dreams never allowed her to feel anything, but again she felt his warmth, his fervor, his hopes. His soul.
She wanted him...wanted this...
"Papa!" they cried out in unison, their childish pouts of disgust making her pull away to laugh.
Killian's answering laugh, deep and spine-tingling and filling, was the last thing she remembered before all became white, signaling the return of daylight...
Emma didn't want to go back to the cottage. No, she wanted to demand Killian take her back to the dreamworld she had just been snatched from. Those had been her children... Hers...and his...
There was a dull ache in her heart when she pictured that that might never come to pass, that it was, after all, only a dream...
But it had been like his actions were real, like his wishes were nearly tangible. He wasn't some gauzy figure she had conjured for her own amusement ― he was breathing and living, responding vigorously to her touch, her presence...
"You never fail to surprise me, love." His hands were deeply inside the pockets of that same leather coat, his smile no longer playful but entirely sardonic. "Tell me, what do you hope to achieve with this?"
She didn't have the courage to look at him, not after she had met what could be her future family ― their family. Would he know what she had seen ― would he read it in the planes of her face?
Struggling to take a deep breath, she finally glanced upward. "That is for me to know and for you to discover."
He clicked his tongue in disappointment, his gaze darkening. "You're determined to finish this, aren't you?"
"Precisely."
Nodding, he asked, "Well, milady...what reward do you desire for having passed the second test?"
It was so enticing to just say she wanted him. There was nothing stopping her ― he did say once that she could stay with him forever. Those burning eyes...that smolder...why should she resist?
But then images of Snow and Charming popped into her mind, and she couldn't make them go away. No matter what she desired, her conscience would continue to irk her until she did the right thing ― until she ended this by completing what she had set out to do.
"A hand mirror," she stammered, the magical comb weighing down her own pocket.
When he handed her the silver mirror, beautifully tarnished with traces of gold, he commented, "This is no ordinary mirror: it can show you the past, of what has been. Use it carefully."
And with that he paced away, vanishing into the smoky dawn as she bemusedly turned the mirror over and over in her hands.
"What's that?" Neal inquired, studying the mirror as if trying to recollect something lost.
She shrugged. "A mirror that shows you your past." A brilliant idea suddenly occurred to her. "Want a peek?"
He rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. "Nah, that's okay―"
"No, go on ― try it!" she encouraged, basically shoving the mirror into his hands.
She could not see what he saw, the mirror just returning his reflection, but whatever he was viewing must be horrible enough that his face was turning ghoulish pale and his eyes were widening. After several minutes like this, his posture gradually stiffening, he nearly threw the mirror at her, whipping his hands away as if they had been burned.
"Neal?" He silently stalked out of the room, heading for his chambers. "Neal!" He slammed the door viciously.
Emma sat down on one of the elegant russet chairs, shifting the mirror once more. He must have seen his father...his past... All she could see was what she was missing, her childhood home and her parents. But she remembered all that clearly, and it was paining her to do so.
Why couldn't Killian have given her a mirror that showed the future instead?
Amazingly, it was raining. She glowered at the obscured sunset behind gray clouds, scowling as drops of water stung her eyes and soaked her clothes. How in hell was she to take the last test when she had become a water carrier in the past half hour?
"Weather is fickle here ― matches my mood, I guess," Killian interrupted, his wild curls growing wet within seconds.
She sighed, trying to wrench some of the water from the skirt of her dress. "If only it would match my mood ― it would be springtime right now."
He smiled for an instant before scowling. "I said the weather, not the seasons. Here, there are no seasons, because there is no change."
She bit her lip to quiet her denial. Hadn't she caused change to happen? Hadn't everything changed when she had come?
"Ahem." He was regarding her sullenly, a question written there in his eyes. "Shall we? Unless you'd rather not?"
She shook her head rapidly. "I'm ready to end this."
Emma barely registered in her mind his pained grimace before they flew into the darkness.
There was no waiting this time. Immediately, the screeching and flapping of many wings beat about her face, and she nearly screamed when she saw talons and claws scratching at the open air.
A falconry. She had never liked falcons either. Better dogs and puppies and cats and kittens all in the same room than a brood of angry birds.
"Stop!" she shouted out of desperation. Surprisingly, the ruckus died down upon her command, but the falcons only perched gracefully on a lined pole before glaring at her pointedly, aggressiveness exuding from every ruffled feather.
"Hmm..." she said out loud, pondering on her predicament. Unconsciously, she thought of her last dream and began to sing the lullaby her mother had always used to help her fall asleep. Then one of the falcons tried to croon part of the lullaby in reply, and Emma was giggling nonstop.
"No, no...that's not how you sing. Here, let me show you..."
And for the remainder of the night, the princess hummed and sang every beloved song she knew, her pure voice echoing throughout the expansive space. She made her audience listen not because they were forced to, but because the melodies she was sharing were as enchanting as the thrum of any harp or the whistle of any flute.
Eventually, the birds throatily chirped along, joining in the chorus with intent eye and still body.
Together, they ensured that music would foreshadow the coming of the dawn.
No vision this time, no color... Her vision was gone, so that she could only hear his voice, his heartbeat...and it broke her in two.
"Emma...Emma, please don't leave me. I know you feel for me what I do for you...I see it...I sense it..."
Then his tone changed, was imploring and sad. "God, if I let you go now, I will perish all the more, alone without you. If you say I don't deserve you, you'd be right. I don't. All I can give you is my love...I have nothing to offer but myself, this wretched, rotting pirate. Me, and my blackened heart and soul scathed by magic. You deserve so much more, and I know it. You are filled with light...you shine more brightly for me than any sun ever could. Love is light, and hate is darkness. So don't you see why you must stay? You passed the tests because you are brave and good, your kindness and pure heart one of a kind. If you had run away, there would have been no hope or faith left, and the darkness would have preyed on your fears and devoured you. But you stood fast, you magnificent woman...
"Emma, we were meant to be together ― I believe it. And I only know that I will wither inside when you return to your life. I want to be a part of it, but...I'd never ask you to do something you do not want."
His voice cracked, and she felt that he was crying. "I was wrong: the day you came, you changed this world. You gave it the warmth of your light. You healed my heart, and you banished the darkness with every triumph of your love. I don't want to keep on living without you. And by God, I will not."
"Killian?" She was trembling, tears brushing her cheeks. When he didn't answer, she feared the worst.
"Killian!" she screamed, falling into a bottomless hole that had no light at the end of its tunnel. Only blackness enveloped her as she kept falling, tumbling, drowning...
She tried to hide her red eyes when she saw him again, tried to conceal the way she kept peeking at him to be sure he didn't disappear.
"What shall your last reward be, lass?" he drawled, avoiding her gaze.
You know what I truly want from you. "A ring."
When he gestured to produce the piece of jewelry, purple smoke already visible, she disagreed, pointing at his hand. "No...one of your rings."
His head snapped up, the most peculiar expression on his face before he paused, removing the golden band from his finger.
"My, my, Swan ― is this an offer?" he jested weakly, piercing sadness in his eyes while he dropped the ring onto the palm of her hand. She examined it, the intricate craftsmanship still intact after all these centuries.
"Does it have magical properties as well?"
He snorted. "Since it is part of who I am, it too has been corrupted by magic."
She tilted her head sideways. "Magic isn't all bad, Killian; it can be used for good."
He swallowed, peering down at his boots. "You can also say that about every living being, Emma ― but believe me, it is easier to be bad than it is to be good. I'm a marked example, and I've certainly reaped the consequences of that choice."
She was moving toward him, taking his hand to place it right above her heart. She didn't know why she was doing it, but she felt compelled to. This guilt and regret had to stop.
"Do you feel that?" she whispered, listening to his sharp intake of breath as his fingers accidentally grazed the upper curves of her breasts. Then she pulled his hand away to put it over his own heart, her fingers caressing the exposed skin there. "We have the same heartbeat."
His eyelids were closed, his breathing nearly ragged. If he could be so affected by one innocent touch...
"Killian..." she murmured into his ear. "If you want a future, you must put the past to rest. I believe in you, in the goodness within you...but now you must believe in yourself."
Slowly backing away from him and not looking behind her, Emma retreated to the cottage, almost fearing what she knew she had to do tonight.
The time for making deals was done.
This hurt so much for one reason and one reason alone ― her entire body was in flames because of one plain fact.
She loved him. What was called the most complex emotion in all the worlds was really simple, just like her mother had said. Her love belonged to him, as did her heart, mind, and soul. There was no need to elaborate, to glorify the feeling with fancy words or give an extra flourish to that which was so powerful and binding on its own. Right now, it was coursing through her veins.
But no matter how much she cared for him...she could not stay. This was no paradise, and home was awaiting her ― after God only knew how long, she was finally ready to go back to it.
Which is why she had sneaked into Neal's bedroom and was shaking him furiously. "Neal? Neal? Wake up!"
He rolled over and covered his head with a pillow. "I know it's not morning yet..." he slurred.
She rolled her eyes and began to shake him again, deciding to forgo the niceties altogether when he still protested by pushing him out of the bed. He nearly jumped to his feet upon contact with the cold floor.
"What's going on?" he mumbled, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
She put her hands on her hips. "We have to go."
"What for?" he whined childishly.
She said the first thing that entered her mind. "Because I'm asking you to. Also, we're in danger."
There would be time to truthfully answer that later, Emma thought to herself. The sun was already climbing over the horizon, and there wasn't time now.
Grabbing his hand, she yanked him towards the door, ignoring his demands for his shoes as they exited the cottage. He scowled when she pushed him to run faster, her legs already aching.
She could only hope that Rumplestiltskin was right and her magic was pure enough to help her cross the boundary once more.
She could only hope her will was strong enough, because that was her greatest concern.
Her will to leave him forever.
Her choice to not have him for her own.
And true to their connection, she felt rather than heard Killian's anguished scream when she threw the pulsing wooden comb onto the ground, startled by the woods that magically sprang behind them, full-grown trees and shrubs rising from the meadow in front of the cottage.
Your rewards will be what you will them to become.
Neal huffed and puffed, but she pressed on, determined. Now they had a real head start.
She paced herself, harshly pulling Neal along whenever he stopped to catch his breath but taking advantage of the pause nevertheless to observe the natural markers carefully. When she believed they were halfway to the boundary, she threw the mirror onto the ground next, helplessly awestruck when it transformed into a glassy lake, clear and cold.
Almost there, almost there...
Emma...EMMA!
Her heart shuddered at the sound of his tormented voice. He was longing for her... A man who doesn't fight for what he wants deserves what he gets, she mused, so do it, Killian. Fight for me.
She was in front of the invisible barrier, willing that she and Neal would be able to go through.
Magic is emotion...
It still wouldn't budge, as inflexible as glass. The situation worsened when a harried Killian appeared between her and the final wall, his hair mussed. There were twigs all over his clothes, and he looked completely drenched.
He said nothing, his eyes speaking more eloquently than any words could. There was an unmistakable aura of darkness around him; the last of it was combating the last of the light ― without her, there would be no light here. But strangely, it seemed to be fighting for her to stay instead of making her leave, dragging her backward when she wanted go forward. It was like pushing against the hardiest wind.
Her temptation.
Then her fingers traveled of their own accord to her pocket, and she recalled the ring. So personal, so his... It was like a token of his love, a reminder of hers.
Love. Love is light and hate is darkness... And magic is emotion.
She brought forward images of her parents, her home, her family ― her fingers tingled, turning golden. And then she thought of her kingdom, how she was needed ― and the power was surging, almost electrifying her but not released. Her magic needed more... This wasn't enough? Last but not least, she recalled Killian, his smile, their dreams...
Love is never weakness, for it is always strength...
And she was thrown to the ground as light burst from her heart, shattering the dark like a hurricane toppling a shaky building. Knocked to her feet, she could only stare as the barrier crackled defiantly before snapping back, Killian's realm covered by white light before all was layered in color once more.
Emma reveled in the magic flowing outward, the heat building inside.
The spell had been broken, because light was now in her blood, her heart, and her mind ― and the darkness was no more, because she had redeemed Killian with her love.
Understandably, Neal looked more than a little stricken after that display and especially when his father popped out from his hiding spot behind a tree on the other side of the Enchanted Forest, seemingly unperturbed by what had just happened.
"Well done, dearie ― I knew you could do it." Ignoring Killian completely, the smug grin on Rumplestiltskin's face was wiped off when he noticed a very uncomfortable-looking Bae standing next to Emma.
"Bae?" he whispered, holding out his arms to his son. "I've waited hundreds of years for this moment...my boy..."
Neal had the most hurt, wounded expression on his face. "Papa?" he managed, his voice soft and quivering. "I remember..."
Emma wanted to witness the culmination of this touching reunion, but all she could see was the look of betrayal Killian was directing at her, his eyes blazing. She had forgotten he was still here, seeing all this.
"You did all this...came here...because of him? To send Bae back to the crocodile? The monster who is responsible for all this?" he growled, enraged.
She suddenly was ashamed of herself, of hiding the truth from him, but that reaction didn't last for long. Anger was dominant when she glowered back at him furiously. "If it wasn't for this monster, I would never have found you!"
"Who bloody cares if you found me!" he yelled. "You lied to me about everything, Emma! You have magic, you contrived to escape with Neal, you offered me the deal we had because of the deal you made with Rumplestiltskin―"
The man in question snorted loudly. "Bae, let's be off ― no need to listen to this lover's quarrel―"
"Wait." Neal went over to take Emma's hands in his. "I just wanted to―"
"It was a lie, Neal." She looked down. "I only flirted with you...showed you the mirror...because I wanted to convince you to leave with me, so I could take you to your father. I don't...I..."
He smiled sadly. "I know. But what I really wanted to do was thank you. This hiding...it's gone on long enough." He nodded at Killian. "It's time to put the past behind us. To make peace. To live."
"Yes, let's go home, my son." Rumplestiltskin patted Neal on the back, trying to usher him down the path at the same time. But Emma wasn't finished with him. She had seen out of the corner of her eye how Killian was pacing back and forth, only hesitating when she told Neal she didn't have any feelings for him.
"Rumplestiltskin," she ordered in her most commanding voice, flustered beyond belief and not sure of what she was about to do. She could ask for anything...he owned more artifacts and treasures than kings did...but she was asking for this...to return what had been lost...
He half-turned. "Yes, dearie? I'm rather in a hurry to get home, so if you have any last words..."
She lifted a brow. "As I recall, we had a deal: Neal's safe return in exchange for a favor."
"Quite right," he admitted grudgingly. "And what kind of favor, dear princess, did you have in mind?"
She could only imagine how much Killian was flushing when he heard that bit of information. Laying a hand on the former Dark One's hand, she focused on one memory, her love channeling through unimpeded. He was no stranger to magic, so she would help him use it one last time ― for good.
"You know what I want," she whispered, waving her hand gently. He looked displeased with her request, but he imitated her gesture, the object she wanted wrapped in a thick red cloth when it appeared on the top of her palm.
"I trust you'll have no trouble re-attaching it?"
And with a few more strides, father and son were in the heart of the forest, their conversation muffled. Emma sincerely hoped she would never have to meet with that man again...
You never know, dearie...
Sighing, she turned to see Killian leaning against a tree, still angry as hell. "Look..." she began, walking toward him shakily. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth, but Rumplestiltskin instructed me not to do certain things so the darkness wouldn't capture my heart. I never wanted to hurt you, Killian..."
"Well, since we're being so honest here, lass," he replied sarcastically, arms crossed over his chest, "I have a few secrets to divulge as well. That wee rabbit and fawn you loved...Peter and Bambi, was it?...that was me. I was they. And our dreams? If you'd only told me about your magic sooner ― like when we first met ― I could have told you our minds were connected by the magic we both had. You felt what I felt, remembered what I remembered, saw what I desired...usually at night, when darkness deepened our bond." Now that he was finished with his tirade, he stopped short, realizing what he had just said.
Emma didn't care about the last part ― it was the former that was making her see red. "You...you...you took advantage of me!" She wanted to scream at him, to punch him hard. "All those days I talked...spilled my heart out...it was you lying there on my lap? And I even...I rocked Peter against my... How the hell could you do that to me?"
His lips twitched, as if he was trying to hold back a laugh and keep his fierce scowl. He looked really adorable when he was angry, Emma smiled to herself. Her grin disappeared when he retorted, "You really didn't see that coming?"
She sputtered, still livid about the animal deception. Of course she should have figured that out on her own. It was all too obvious, just as the dreams had been. She was feeling extremely foolish and rather embarrassed.
"Okay, so we both lied to each other." She stepped closer to him, wary. "But I want you to know, Killian, that I never lied to you about how I felt...what I still feel, for you. If you want to never see me again, I understand, but before you go, I have something for you...something that was once yours."
She tentatively unclasped the hook from its position in the brace, pausing when he tensed under her touch. "You have to trust me," she pleaded, gazing into his eyes unblinkingly. Seeing affirmation there, she continued until she had removed his coat, his shirt, and the entire brace itself.
"If I didn't know better, my love, I'd say you were trying to seduce me."
When he tried to say something more, she pressed her fingers against his lips. "Let me concentrate..."
It was quick, her emotion at its peak. One moment she was holding his hand ― his left hand, perfectly preserved for being kept in a glass case for over three centuries ― and the next, she was channeling her magic a second time, but now through the very man who had caused it to reawaken.
A flash of brightness, a cry of pain, and it all was over.
"Emma..." He was looking at his former hand in wonder, twisting it and moving it disbelievingly. The final straw was when he caressed her cheek with those fingers. She kissed them in return, her tears wetting the tips.
"My quest is over, Killian, and now I can go home." She smiled at him. "Will you come with me?"
There was such ardor and love coming from his eyes that she was mesmerized by the glow, the light they emitted. "I'll stay with you for eternity, my darling Emma, if you want me to. If...you love me."
Holding his face in her hands, she kissed along his jaw to reach his mouth. "Oh, I do," she murmured before she wrapped her arms around him, her lips finding his. That rush of light came again, warmer than ever as it enfolded their bodies when their kiss deepened.
There was no separating them anymore. Magic and fate and their hearts had spoken.
They were True Love.
"I wonder what your parents will say when you bring home a dashing enchanter instead of some daft prince."
Emma leaned into Killian, her hand squeezing his while they walked under the leafy ceiling of sky and bough, set on the path to the castle. She had never been happier. "I guess we'll just have to find out, won't we?"
"Indeed we will," he smirked, his hand curling behind her neck to pull her into another kiss as he slipped the ring he had given her onto her finger. "Together, we are invincible."
THE END
A/N: The song "Eternity" by Dreams Come True inspired the title for this story - it really is quite lovely. This is definitely my most "fairytale" fic that I've written, and I'm quite proud of how it turned out. It was first published and completed in 2013.
I removed all my work from this website years ago, and I've decided to slowly bring it back. I have 14 other Captain Swan fics I'd like to share, and while I may not have the energy to post them all up, I will do my best. Reviews are always appreciated. I'm also on AO3 under the same username, and I'm on Tumblr as 4getfulimaginator2022. I hope you enjoyed this story - see you around!