A/N: This is slightly on the angsty/whumpy side for Killian here. Some part of this is somewhat directly inspired by the images I have on my mood board (That I'm going to share on Tumblr and AO3 again)
I'm prepping this chapter just as I've posted chapter 1, and I'm so excited to see what you all think of this story. This is a slightly longer chapter but I hope that is okay.
FYI: I have no real knowledge of how it is to lose a limb, but I've heard about phantom pains and I've tried to describe these as best as I could. And we have elven magic at play here too, so there will be some parts that aren't realistic in terms of what would happen in the real world. Like how fast such a wound will heal.
Thanks to my ever-so-wonderful beta Ultraluckycatnd.
Enjoy.
Chapter 2Pain! Excruciating pain radiated from his wrist, lapping up through the nerves in his arm. The world was dark and he felt hot and feverish. Shifting in the bed, or whatever soft place he was resting upon, he felt the sharp stabbing pains shoot through him again.
"Bloody hell." His voice was raspy and hoarse, he licked his dry lips, trying to blink open his eyes. It was dark in the room, but a small flickering of light caught his eyes, he turned his head and his eyes landed on a woman sleeping in a deep plush chair next to his bed. The soft silk covers were smooth against his rough and calloused fingers; when he tried to move his left arm, he realized it was tied to his body. "What the bloody hell?" He managed to lift his head enough for him to gaze upon himself. What he saw had him gasping for air; his hand was not there anymore. As his brain started to send signals to move the missing limb, a series of stabbing pain flashed up through his arm. Groaning, he slumped back on the pillow, using his other hand to swipe back the long hair that had fallen over his face. Then he rubbed his eyes, trying to remember what had happened. Flashes of the Dark One's ship hunting down his beloved Jolly Roger rushed through his mind. Then the glinting sword that the vile monster had swung down and succeeded in cutting off his hand. The memory of the pain that had fired through him at that point had him groan out.
"Oh, you're awake." A female voice shifted into his foggy mind. He'd forgotten she was even there, his mind so focused on what had happened to him.
"What… who?" he mumbled out as he scrubbed his face with his hand, before turning to look at the woman again.
When she stood up he realized she was fairly tall, perhaps even as tall as him, her long slender frame illuminated by a single candle by the bed. Her golden-white hair shone like the softest silk. The woman leaned in closer, her green eyes searching his face and body. As she turned her head down to inspect his stumped arm, he noticed her distinct pointed elven ears. "You're elven?" he mumbled, confused about how he'd ended up within the elven realm. He knew they had crossed the waters close to Misthaven, but since it hadn't been their destination they had not planned to go onshore. Not that many men ever did such a thing. The elven people of Misthaven kept to themself, minded their own realm, and kept somewhat peace with the realms around them. Even the dwarfs in the Northern Mountains, who mined the jewels and silver so loved by the elven people.
The woman turned her gaze on his face again, and her smile widened. "I am." She placed a warm hand on his clammy forehead. "How are you feeling?"
"Like the bloody Kraken has ripped me apart limb from limb."
"I'm sorry," the woman said. She glanced down at his bound arm. "Someone really did take your hand."
"Aye, I see that," he groaned. His mind was again signaling to the missing hand, making the pain that much worse. "The bloody Dark One killed my crew, burned my ship, and took my hand." He tried to sit up but the world began to spin, so he slumped back on the soft pillow.
"You shouldn't strain yourself," the woman soothed. "Your body is still recovering from a big trauma." Her warm hand touched his shoulder. "Are you thirsty?"
"Aye."
She found a cup and helped him lift his head so he could drink, her fingers wrapped around his neck, his long black hair falling over her hand. He took a few short sips of the water, then nodded his thanks and she helped him down again.
"Thanks." He watched her curiously, "What is your name, lass?"
"I'm Emma Swan, of the Misthaven royal elven family." She's a princess? She sat down on the low chair by the bed. "What is your name?" she asked, her green eyes never leaving him; they had the color of the newly blooming leaves in spring.
"I'm Captain Jones, Killian Jones."
"Killian." She whispered his name as if she was testing it, then she frowned. "I saw your ship—" She blinked a few times and looked down at her clasped hands, "that other ship was brutal and showed no mercy on your crew." She looked genuinely worried and sorry about this.
"You saw it all." He gulped as flashes of the horrible nightmare he'd experienced when he lost everything replayed before his eyes.
She nodded mutely, her teeth worrying her lower lip; she was strikingly beautiful, and to be honest the first elven he'd seen up close. Any sort of drawing he'd ever seen of the elven race had not paid justice to how beautiful this elven princess was.
"Thank you for saving me," he said and rested his head to the side so he could keep his eyes on her.
She blinked a few times then smiled. "You're welcome, my friend Ruby and I carried you back home."
"I'll forever be grateful for how you saved me," Killian said with a heavy sigh, he had no idea what he would do now. He looked down at his stumped arm, what could a one-handed pirate really do? Aye, he was a pirate, but he wasn't sure that the fair lady was going to like that detail about his life. As he kept his eyes on the elven princess, he couldn't help but be more and more intrigued by her, not only by her beauty but also by how she carried herself with confidence. She clearly knew what she'd been doing while tending to his wound.
"I only did what is my calling. You see, I'm a healer, and I know the use of both magic and herbs that can be used for healing a damaging wound such as yours." She looked sad as her eyes flickered to his bandaged wrist.
"How bad is it?" The repeated phantom pains flashed up his arm. He tried to hide the wince, but her worried eyes told him how he failed.
"It's not great." She rose and began mixing something in a bowl, her hands moving gracefully over each item as she added whatever she needed. Then she waved her hand over a bowl of water and seconds later it steamed. "I'm making you some tea that will help with the pain you're feeling right now." She poured the hot water over the herbs. "I managed to close and cauterize the arteries when we first found you." She stirred the bowl, then turned to look at him. "It needs to seep for a few minutes."
He nodded, silently asking for her to continue.
"But with such an open wound like an amputation, the body will heal quicker and with less infection, if I'm using Phoenix Flower petals." She pointed to his bandage. "I had my friend make a poultice of those petals, mixed with a few other healing herbs."
"Thank you." He inspected the disfigured limb, his mind was still processing that he was now one hand short.
"It will take some time to heal, and get used to, you know—"
"Do everything one-handed." He grimaced at the very thought of how everything was now going to be so much more difficult.
Emma nodded with a knowing frown. "I will look at it tomorrow. Right now you need rest." She turned to pick up the bowl where she'd boiled the tea. "Now drink this, it will help you sleep and ease the pain."
Killian managed to raise himself and leaned on his good arm while she lifted the bowl to his lips. The taste was pleasant enough, but it did have a tangy aftertaste of either sulfur or coal. He wrinkled his nose as he gulped down the last drops.
"Sorry about the taste." She smiled and placed the bowl on the table. "I added a pinch of Phoenix Flower, it grows on lava rocks and it gives it the taste of sulfur."
Killian nodded in understanding as he slumped back down on the pillow, his head suddenly feeling a bit heavier. Whatever she'd mixed in that tea he only hoped that it would give him a good night's sleep.
"Sleep well," Emma said with a smile. "I will not be far away. If you need anything," she pointed to a small bell that stood on the small table, "ring that and I will come."
"Thanks, love," he said with a drowsy smile; he did notice that her eyes widened at his last word, but he was too tired to even start explaining to her that it was a common use of endearment in his realm. Then his eyes closed and he fell into a dreamless sleep.
When Emma woke up the next morning, the first thing she did was to check on her patient, but since Killian was still sleeping, she found her way to the kitchens. She would find some suitable food for him; he'd seemed shocked and confused the night before. It had been late before they came back, and their return had caused quite a ruckus. When her parents heard that she and Ruby had brought a human along, they had been on her back ever since. But they also knew that Emma took her healing oath very seriously, and never differentiated between who she would or should help. Some years ago, she'd managed to persuade Graham to let her join one of his journeys to the mountains where they would trade with the dwarfs for silver. One dwarf had been injured and Emma had been able to heal the wound.
Finally having found the food she needed, she walked back toward the healer's room. But before she reached her destination, she spotted Ruby waving.
"How's the patient today?"
"He's sleeping," Emma said as she kept walking, hoping that Ruby would join her. "He woke up sometime after you left."
"So how is he?"
"Uh?" Emma looked at her friend with a puzzled frown.
"I mean is he angry, in pain, nice?" Ruby waggled her eyebrows at this.
"He did seem shocked by the fact that he'd lost a hand, and he was in pain, so I made him tea to help with that." Emma refrained from commenting on the last part Ruby had inquired about. Sometimes her friend would be a bit too nosy in regards to everyone else's personal life.
"For a human, he did look quite handsome, don't you think?"
"I wouldn't know." Trying to ignore the curious stares from her friend, she pushed the door open to the room where Killian was sleeping. She turned to Ruby. "He's still sleeping, so perhaps you can come by later."
"Sure," Ruby shrugged. "I'll be in the greenhouse."
"Make some more Phoenix Flower poultice, I need to change his bandage later this morning."
Ruby nodded and slipped down the hallway towards the greenhouses. Emma pushed the door open and walked inside, placing the food on the small table beside the bed. Then she started mixing the ingredients for the tea he could drink to relieve his pain.
Movement caught her attention and she turned around and saw that Killian was awake, his blue eyes gazing up at her.
"Good morning," Emma smiled.
"Good morning, Princess Emma," Killian said with a hoarse voice. He cleared his throat and shifted in the bed, wincing in pain. He groaned and slumped back on the bed muttering, "Bloody hell."
"I brought more tea to help with the pain." She began stirring the cup where she'd poured the tea. "I'll check the wound and make sure it's healing properly."
"Great." He combed his fingers through his long unruly hair, it would need to be combed at some point.
"Perhaps we should remove that shirt and wash you a bit," she mused and scanned his body. His shirt was ruined where he'd ripped it to make a compress to stop the bleeding himself. The black fabric was most likely soiled in blood.
"Hmm, feels a bit grubby." He shifted a bit uneasily in the bed. He tried to sit up and managed to do so when she gently helped him.
"Are you okay like this?"
"Aye." His eyes shifted nervously around. "It's just that I need to… ah… well—" His eyes shifted away from her and he mumbled, "I need to relieve myself." She watched as his neck and cheeks tinted in a slight pink.
"Oh," she mumbled, her mind frantically trying to come up with what to do. "Will you be able to stand?"
"I think so," he winced as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, "but my arm hurts like hell."
"I'm sorry." She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Just take a moment to find your balance, I'll just… eh find something you can use." She scrambled to the cabinet and searched for something he could use. Finding a bottle with a wide neck, she walked over and gave it to him. Her face was warm and she tried to avoid looking at him; this was very awkward. She contemplated if she would have time to fetch someone else to help him, but he looked in urgent need to use the bottle, so she took a deep breath and gave him a small smile. Sure she'd helped patients with such issues before, but this man was doing something to her insides that she couldn't pinpoint at this moment.
"Thanks, love." His fingers wrapped around the bottle then looked down at his stumped hand. "Might need a hand here." He chuckled when she gasped.
"Right." She grabbed the bottle again. "I'll just hold this and you take care of… you know." She waved her hand towards his groin, hoping he would understand what she wanted him to do.
"Aye." He began fumbling with the lashings holding his black leather breeches together.
Emma crouched down while turning her head away, trying not to stare at what he was doing. She placed one hand on his knee for balance, feeling the warmth of his body seep through the leather.
"Ah, alright." He reached for her hand holding the bottle and moving it forward. "Hold it right there."
Emma nodded mutely. She could feel her ears heating up, now cursing that she'd already had her hair braided up, leaving her ears visible for him to see. A few short moments later, she heard the trickle of fluid run into the flask and felt the warmth of it through the bottle. Closing her eyes, she tried to ignore the curiosity running through her; she would not take a peek.
Moments later he whispered, "I'm all done." He shifted in his seat, and she sensed he'd tugged himself into his pants again. Without looking she rose to her feet and placed the bottle by the door, she would take care of that later. She quickly washed her hands before she returned her focus to her patient. His head was bowed, his long hair falling over his face. He grumbled as he tried to secure the lashings in his leather breeches with his remaining hand.
Pursing her lips, she contemplated if she should offer him a hand, but the whole situation was far too awkward already.
Finally, he gave up and grabbed the sheet and draped it over his lap, then he looked up and when he saw her watching him, his brow wrinkled. "This is going to be bloody difficult."
"I'm sure you'll manage to work through menial tasks like that with time," she tried to soothe, hoping he would at least try to accept his new life. In the past, she'd seen a few amputees who'd struggled with missing a limb. "Perhaps our craftsmen, August and his father Marco can help you with some sort of replacement hand."
"It won't be the same," he mumbled as he adjusted the sheet over him.
"No it won't ever be the same, but I've seen others lose a leg and now walk around fine with prosthetics." She walked to the table and reached for the tea. "We have some fine craftsmen here who know how to fit something for you to use."
"That will be grand," he shrugged as if he wasn't fully trusting her words.
"Now drink this and I'll take a look at the wound after." She gave him the tea, which he took with a small nod of thanks.
She let him drink in peace while sorting out some new bandages and things she needed for dressing his wound again. A knock was heard and she called, "Come in."
Ruby slipped inside, holding a bowl of poultice in her hand. "So I see our patient is sitting up." She lifted an eyebrow when she saw how Killian was still clutching the sheet over his groin. When Ruby glanced at Emma with a curious glint in her eyes, Emma rolled her eyes and pointed to the bottle by the door. Ruby nodded in understanding, but she still had a wolfish smile on her face while she set the bowl on the table. "So let's take a look shall we?"
Killian had been quiet this whole time, he looked stunned. "Who are you?"
Ruby introduced herself. "Oh I'm sorry, I'm Ruby."
"She is going to assist me with tending to your wound," Emma supplied as she contemplated where to start first. "Could you perhaps remove the shirt?" She felt her ears heat up again, and she ignored Ruby's blatant smirk at her suggestion.
Killian blinked up at her in confusion. "What?"
"Well the shirt is ruined and most likely drenched in blood and seawater," Emma offered. "I mean…" She looked over at Ruby who seemed to ignore what Emma was talking with Killian about, but Emma clearly saw the amusement on her friend's face.
Killian nodded in understanding and began unbuttoning the shirt, this was easier for him than fixing his pants. Emma tried to not ogle her patient as he revealed more of his hairy chest. She'd already noticed the hairs peeking out from the deep V of his shirt, but seeing it all on display like this had her heart racing a bit too fast. Elves were never this hairy, most often almost bare or with very light sprinkles of chest hair.
He shrugged off the shirt from his good arm and when he reached over to drag the material of his injured arm, he groaned at how the movement jostled it.
"Here, let me help you," Emma offered when she stepped up to him and grabbed the material of his shirt, helping him ease it off his arm. When he groaned again she sighed and turned to Ruby. "Could you give me the scissors please?"
"Here you go," Ruby said with a too high-pitched voice. Emma ignored the waggle of eyebrows Ruby sent her.
Using the scissors, Emma managed to remove the rest of the shirt, the garment was ruined anyway. "We'll find you a clean shirt once we've changed the bandage, and perhaps washed you up a bit." She glanced down at his torso, she could see dried blood caked over his skin, even in the divots of his very defined muscles. Oh Phoenix Fire, the man was far too handsome. Emma gaped at her thoughts, she had never had such thoughts about any young elven ever before. Why now?
"I'll go find some clean clothes and a change of sheets," Ruby offered. "Will you be fine here?" Then she chuckled, "I think you'll be just fine."
Emma ignored her friend's jab and focused on her task. She took the ruined shirt and threw it in the trash. Then she found a pitcher of water and a larger bowl; using her magic, she heated the water and found a washcloth. Returning her focus to Killian, she could see that he'd been watching her work, his eyes averted to the floor and a faint blush crept up his neck.
"Will you be able to do this yourself?" She gave him the wet washcloth.
"Aye, I might." He used the cloth to scrub off the dried blood, he was very mindful of how and where he moved his injured arm.
Emma held the bowl out to him whenever he wanted to rinse the cloth, her eyes trying to focus on the windows behind him; the sun was already high in the sky by now. When he suddenly grunted as if in pain her eyes flicked down to him, he was trying to reach a spot under his good arm.
"Here let me." Her fingers shook as she placed the bowl on the table. Then she grabbed the cloth and when he lifted his arm, she scrubbed at the grime and blood there. He'd done a fairly good job where he could reach. She moved the cloth to wash over the shoulder of his good arm. The cords of his neck stood out as if he was clenching his jaws, and she noticed how he gulped down several times as her fingers brushed over his skin.
She rinsed off the cloth a last time, then used it to clean up his face, her fingers combing through his long hair, lifting it away from his ears. Her eyes widened when she noticed the slight upturned slope of his upper ear. It almost looked like… Nah it couldn't be?
"What's the matter, love?"
She gasped, that was the second time he'd called her love now. She blinked and stepped back and looked down at him. "Love?"
"Pardon." He swiped his hand over his face, then shrugged. "It's a word I use in terms of endearment, of sorts. I'm sorry if I overstepped some lines here." He glanced around the room. "I'm still trying to comprehend that I'm stranded in the Elven realm of Misthaven, and being tended to by an elven princess," he smirked.
"I'm also a healer and I tend to a lot of patients, much like you," she tried to explain. "I understand it must be a bit strange," Emma mused slowly, her eyes scanning his every move. Then she waved her hand in the air. "Don't worry, you didn't offend me, just took me by surprise, that's all." But why had it felt so wonderful when he'd called her love?
Killian nodded in understanding, then looked down at his bandaged wrist. "This still throbs and is bloody painful. How long do you suppose it will take to heal?"
"It all depends on how well your body reacted to the Phoenix Flower," Emma explained and set aside the washcloth. "Let's take a look." She began unwrapping the bandages and she checked the skin for any signs of infections. She sighed in relief when no black stripes seemed to have traveled up his arm. Before she removed the last of the old poultice, she reached for a clean towel and placed it under his arm, just in case the wound would ooze with something. She took the pack of poultice away and was relieved to see the wound was already healing up. The quick healing spell she'd done when she found him had helped, but the Phoenix Flower was what made sure the body didn't react to the trauma, by not getting infected.
Emma gauged his reaction to seeing the wound for the first time; his brow was pinched together, his lips formed a thin line, and the tension in his neck showed how he wasn't liking this. "It looks bad right now." She reached for the clean rags she'd prepared, and used them to swipe over the wound. He hissed in pain, pulling his arm away. "Sorry."
"Bloody hell, how am I ever—" He trailed off and shook his head.
"What?"
"I'm never gonna have a normal life now, that bloody wanker took everything from me."
"Who?" Emma returned to the table and prepared the new poultice for the wound, the smell of sulfur hit her nose.
"The Dark One."
Emma gasped; they had heard the mention of the Dark One in the past, but never this close to their own realm. It had mostly been the dwarfs or stragglers like Aiandil who would talk about the darkness that had begun lurking in some parts of the other realms.
"He is here?" Emma felt a trickle of fear run down her spine. "My father must know this." She looked back at Killian. "Perhaps if you're up to it, I could bring him here and you can tell him what you know of the Dark One."
Killian grimaced. "Not particularly fond of talking about the Dark One," he groaned, "but the wanker should be stopped somehow." He sighed. "He got me good this time."
"This time?"
"Aye, we've crossed paths in the past a few times." He winched when she placed the poultice on the stumped wrist. "That bloody hurts."
"I'm sorry." She worked quickly and soon his wound was wrapped up again. "I will check on it again tonight. Now you should eat something." She reached over and gathered as many pillows she could find and placed them against the silvery woven headboard. "Now settle back down, you should rest your body while you eat."
Killian managed to move his body so he could rest against the headboard. He watched her with his blue eyes as she prepared the food for him. "Looks good."
"It's just some bread and honey." She tried to focus on her task, but sensing his blue eyes on her while she worked was very distracting. Finally, she had his meal prepared and she gave him the plate. "There's water right here." She realized he was still only partly dressed, his torso was on full display as he began eating. He'd managed to pull the sheets over his legs, covering up the partly open lashings of his breeches.
Suddenly he looked up and she realized she'd been caught staring at him and when a knowing smirk grew over his lips, she imagined she'd been very blatant in her admiration of his form.
"I'll just, you know—" She flipped her thumb over her shoulder as her mind drew blanks on what it was she would be doing.
"Aye, you just go do…" he waved his hand, still holding a piece of bread in the air, motioning towards the door, "whatever you need to do. I'm fine, love."
Her heart skipped a beat when he spoke the word love again. Now knowing he didn't mean anything about it, it shouldn't have affected her as much as it did.
She rushed to the door and spotted the bottle of urine, grabbed it, and slipped out of the room. This gave her something to do. Her mind was still trying to figure out why being so close to this human was affecting her so much, it seemed as if her soul was reacting to this man. Something she'd learned could indicate that something akin to love might be at play. But how could that even be possible, he was a human, she was elven.
