A/N: Recap: We got a snippet of Belle and Wesley on the Pirate ship Revenge on their way to Jorie in Camelot, her daily life on ship, and a little of how I warped Wesley's backstory. Then the repost of 'Magickal Hullabaloo' where Killian and Emma interact on the Jolly - Killian starts to get through to her, and Emma begins her transition out of depression. We're also waiting to see who the 'mastermind' is and what she has up her sleeve. Is that enough? Too much? Let me know if the recaps are helpful or annoying, till then, I'll try and keep them going.
Y'all don't deserve to wait on me to think my work is perfect before posting - what is perfect? - so I'm just as wary posting this as I was the raw chapter.. anyway.. This chapter is the last of day 21 and it is chock full of different POVs, setting things up for what's to come - which is the end. I've been getting more support than I thought, from various places, and y'all have continued to encourage me to keep going despite my sorrow for the coming end, so thank you. I might have given up on this ages ago if it wasn't for you.
~Bargaining~
Killian eventually sat on the floor, facing her room, as Emma eventually slank down the end of the cot to face him, her back against the bed. They had fallen into their now familiar chats, a mix of everything from honest and deep, banter and jokes, right down to that comfortable silence they enjoyed, his hook absentmindedly tapping the barrier in random intervals, almost as if the curved silver had a mind of it's own, and she waited with bated breath for the moment that barrier wouldn't be there.
Ever so often, she asked questions into the air he somehow knew not to answer. She begged for the universe to give her an answer to her what ifs, she begged whatever God would listen to change the past so that the truth in her womb would no longer be true, she begged to trade anything, her title, her crown, all that she herself owned, swearing to live the life of a peasant if only time would turn back and that forgotten night would have never happened.
And she said it all out loud, tears coming and going, his only response being something ridiculous that made her laugh and completely forget everything that was occupying her mind before he rewarded her with a genuine smile that practically cracked his face and melted her heart - just a little.
When the sun was at its highest point in the sky, and he had left to fetch them something from the galley, she felt his absence in the pit of her stomach. A pull that almost dragged her to the doorway, her fingers reaching out -
There was no barrier.
When he returned with the food, her fingers fell, though she stayed in her closer position to the door. He raised an eyebrow, obviously curious, but he set his jaw, choosing to ignore it, scooting her plate along the floor past the invisible line, an expression on his face that showed how pleased he was that he was allowed to care for her. But when he tapped it again, the barrier was still there - for him.
She could leave any time. He just couldn't enter. It was something that made her gut clench because, she realized, she wanted him with her.
She just didn't want to admit to it to herself, let alone to him.
She thought of the words Regina had told her only hours - had it really only been hours? - before. "When you finally leave here, child, you will not want to harm yourself any longer." Was it really true? Could she leave because she no longer wanted to harm herself? When had that shifted?
Her new knowledge had her silent through their meal, him noticing her shift and asking about it with his overly expressive eyebrow as they silently chewed.
Her shake of her head was simple, waving him off.
His responding head tilt was an internal battle before he shook his head in acknowledgement, an acceptance to back off.
It was a comfort not to have to use words.
After their midday meal, he took their plates and she went to the barrier again, breathing as she crawled out of the room entirely, standing upright, reaching back up to see if the barrier was still there for her.
But it wasn't.
~Docked~
It was a few hours before midday when Belle found herself leaning into the railing of the Revenge, staring at Camelot's dock as it was inching closer. She looked onto the lands with a twinge of distaste, wondering where the nerves went that she'd felt when packing for this trip, when thinking of Jorie again, meeting his parents, the idea of falling in love weighing against her belly along with the butterflies.
It wasn't until the dread pirate Roberts stood next to her, eyeing those same lands, that the nerves arrived in the pit of her stomach, which wasn't exactly what she was expecting. When had her feelings about Jorie changed so completely? She had no reason to dislike him, or his land, yet when she saw the dock and the reality of her situation overcame her senses, her startling lack of interest in the place - and him - slapped her in the face along with the spray of the ocean.
After she had finished her midday meal, surrounded by the crew who had eaten with her, cleaning the dishes because she could - and maybe because she wanted to make herself useful and survive this trip.
She smiled at one of the crew, Jesse the medic who helped with her sea sickness, as he handed her his soiled dishes with a small apologetic smile of his own. When he moved to return to his own duties, she was surprised by the sight of a new man who was walking the length of the room, his arms behind his back, his eyes on the various crew who were still there.
He wore a long blue, red, and gold coat, a white shirt, and tan pants, a hat tucked into his elbow. His golden hair seemed familiar, tied in the back of his head, but she knew he wasn't one she had met on the ship before, though he did look familiar -
It wasn't until he turned toward her, a mock expression of anger at a man to his left, when she realized it was the Revenge's Captain. Gone was the mask on his face, and the black clothing. Her head tilted a bit at the sight of him, never before seeing his full face. But she knew it was him when his gaze traveled to hers, and that same aqua blue pierced her from across the room.
It took her a moment to tear her gaze away, returning to her self appointed duties, pretending not to notice as he approached her.
"Belle."
She looked up, her cheeks heating unforgivingly.
"Captain."
He gave her a knowing smile. "As much as I appreciate the incentive," he nodded toward her busy work. "We are about to disembark."
"Oh." Her hands stilled as she looked down at what she was doing. "Wait, we?"
He huffed out a small laugh. "I am to accompany you. It is only proper for you to have an escort."
Well, that made sense. She hadn't been expecting it, though she recalled her past life as a princess where it would have been a small army accompanying her instead of a few pirates. "Right." She began to dry her hands when he spoke again.
"For you to make a memorable impression, I have laid out a gift for you in your room." She looked up at him in surprise. "I can never be one to get in the way of love. Even the possibility of it."
When she finally made it to her room, her fingers only a little pruney, she was startled to see the dress on her bed. It was a pale yellow, seeming to shimmer whenever the sunlight hit it through the small round window. It seemed to fit her perfectly, and though it was a simple design, she relished in the feel of it on, and the look of it on her.
She remembered the ball she had attended with Emma, that being the last time she felt she looked as good as she did in this dress.
As she made her way to the deck, her mind replayed the dance with Jorie - she didn't really notice as the image of the man morphed into one that resembled the captain until she reached the deck, and her escort turned to her.
His face was stone, but his eyes changed into an even brighter blue that resembled the ocean at its brightest hues near shore as she accepted his offered elbow, and they turned to disembark.
Snow had been determined.
It had been an emotional morning, between learning of Emma, what her depression led her to, what Regina did about it. Not to mention that the ship was no longer there for her to just go see her daughter - why Regina did what she did, sometimes, Snow just didn't understand.
Then they learned of the riots at Midas' castle. There were five armies fighting for control over the place - and their closest neighboring kingdom and ally had asked them to bear arms with them. It was almost humorous when Regina scoffed about a world war beginning before their eyes when the sorceress' eyes went wide as she excused herself.
Snow and her husband spent entirely too long discussing the possible outcomes of their involvement - or lack of involvement. Joining the battle was, perhaps, the best way to end the fighting.. or add to the size and create a war big enough to call it a 'world war' as Regina so eloquently coined.
And their actions would, one way or another, affect a friendship and ally.
Which is what led to Snow White, Queen, former bandit, to saddle up just past midday and begin traveling to the castle on their fastest horse wearing common clothing and a cloak to hide her dark hair and pale face, characteristics that made her known nearly everywhere she went.
Regina took a deep breath. She had to know.
But how to find out without alarming the suspect? Most of her magickal abilities would sound the alarm for the other woman, but paying her a surprise visit wouldn't go over very well either, especially if this suspect turned out to be the actual culprit.
It was just past midday when Regina went to find Snow, tell her of her plan, only to find that the Queen had left rather hastily on her own quest to Midas' castle.
So Regina - only a little awkwardly - turned to David instead, relaying her thoughts as sparingly as she could. Knowing she needed time to contemplate her actions, she saddled her own borrowed horse, and headed to Sherwood for a night before she made the last leg of her journey.
~Wanted~
Killian eyed her warily when he returned to his spot on the floor in front of her door. She was sitting further back from where he left her, her eyes cast to the wooden floor, until his hook tapped the barrier without so much as a single thought when her eyes shot up, practically bulging from her head.
Something was weighing on her, more than what she told him - which was already much more than he had anticipated. She'd opened up about a lot of things over the day, and the day was only half over. Most of it were questions directed at the universe, bargaining with invisible Gods to change the past.
His heart ached, but he understood. He'd stood in her shoes before, and knew she needed an ear more than a meddling hand.
But this silence, this avoidance of his existence, was beginning to wear on him.
"Emma, darling." It wasn't the first time he had called to her, but hearing him utter her given name always seemed to do the trick, and this was no different as her eyes rose slowly to meet his. "Would you prefer if I left you alone?"
If possible, her eyes grew bigger, and she had to blink back her emotions - he thought he saw a pang of something oddly resembling panic.
"No, it's.. fine.. if you stay."
He raised his eyebrows. "You know how to make a man feel wanted."
She gave him half a smile that felt forced before looking around the room. "I have a feeling you always feel wanted." She gave him a pointed look. "Just go to the closest pub."
His hand and hook flew to his chest. "You wound me, love."
"You'd also get none of that there."
"Swan.." Now he really was wounded. Surely she knew by now he wasn't going anywhere?
"No." She shook her head. "I understand you. This ship is your home."
"Home is where the heart is, love, and my heart no longer resides within this ship." He tapped the barrier now out of pute habit and her eyes followed his movements before closing tightly.
"Try your hand."
"What?"
She eyed his hook, still tapping the barrier. Understanding flooded him as he reached up with his hand before his brain permitted the contemplation of doing so.
The barrier did not dislodge in the slightest.
"We'll get there, love, we must be patient."
She nodded, a look of surrender on her face he wanted to wipe away.
"If this barrier were gone, I'd ask for a dance." He winked at her shocked expression.
"A dance." She looked entirely unimpressed.
"You heard me."
"Didn't you get enough at the ball?"
"I could never get enough of you."
She scoffed. "Well, at least we know your skills in the art of flirtation haven't shriveled."
"I've not lied to you once, Swan, why would I begin now." He didn't let her respond before plowing ahead. "And it's more than flirtations I'm well versed in."
"Why does that matter?"
"You'd get the full benefit of all my experience."
Understanding hit her, a breath of air escaping her, as her face flushed red. He bit his lip to keep from smirking.
"You know sex only happens if I'm married, right?"
"Then let me formally ask you to allow me the pleasure of courting you." Her jaw dropped at that. His plan of distracting her was working. This wasn't the route he was planning on, naturally, but if it was working.. And it was true…
"Why?"
"Because I do fancy you from time to time. When you're not yelling at me."
She bit back her smile. "In courting, or marriage for that matter, I suspect I would be yelling at you frequently."
"Thought of it much, have you?" If possible, the shade on her cheeks grew brighter.
"Not as much as you have, I take it."
"Only enough to choke on my dinner at the thought of being a Pirate King."
"It would be much simpler if I were only a maid."
"Aye. The heart wants what the heart-" His hook was not hitting the barrier, a cloud of confusion swarming just behind his eyes as he looked down. The barrier was gone, completely, and he looked up with a grin. "Perhaps you'll answer my query, love."
Then let me formally ask you to allow me the pleasure of courting you.
She had a gleam in her eyes he, decidedly, did not like.
"Only if my father agrees."
~Camelot~
Somehow, Wesley had procured a carriage. Or Jorie had sent one. Belle didn't know which, neither did she ask. She sat opposite the captain on the ride to Camelot, staring out the window, feeling entirely too close to the man she hardly knew.
What was happening to her?
Never had she felt the sheer determination to keep someone at arms length before just because of a nervous flutter in her belly.
Before she knew it, the carriage was stopping, and she realized they had been traveling through a village for long enough to reach the entrance of the castle, where she immediately spotted Jorie, who was standing next to a towering black man, and a small asian woman who held herself like a warrior, among several others Belle didn't know what to make of.
Everything she knew of Camelot came from recent books she read on her journey, a few details being provided by Jorie himself in their short time together.
Since the fall of King Arthur, Camelot became a democracy, and Lancelot was voted in as leader. At any time, he could be voted out of the leadership role, but until then, he was raising his son to take over. Jorie would be the logical vote in, being raised by the beloved Lancelot, but Jorie needed a wife to support him and his candidacy just as much as any king needed a queen. The wrong choice could be disastrous for the young man.
"Are you ready for this?" He was barely breathing the words out, just across from her, as she surveyed the smiling faces lined up to greet her.
"As much as I ever will be." She breathed her reply just as quietly.
"Sit back, then, I'll vacate first, and help you out."
It had been too long, she thought, since she had been treated like the princess she had been born as, she realized, as she watched him reach for the handle, exit the carriage, straighten his hat atop his head, turn toward her and raise his hand up to her with an encouraging smile.
She took it, having to force herself to ignore the way his touch sent sparks flying through her entire being.
As soon as both her feet hit solid earth, she gracefully removed her hand from his, and took a slight - yet appropriate - curtsey. She had to really dig into her memory to remember herself, her royal lessons of proper decorum, but once she dusted off that old book in her mind's library, she found she was standing straight and tall before the court of Camelot.
The tall black man, the smaller asian woman, and Jorie all took their mark in their own bows and curtsies before the rest of the court followed after.
Perhaps it was a bit too formal for the new democracy, instead of a typical kingdom.
Jorie's grin reached her, and she found herself smiling shyly in his direction, before he strode over in long, determined strides to offer her his arm.
She took it, unable to keep from looking at the blond man still standing next to her. His face was a mask, though she could see green in his eyes slowly take over the aqua blue.
The next few hours were slow. Belle was shown to the room she had been given, but wasn't left there long. She was ushered by a maid to meet Jorie in the garden, who took her for a stroll. Their conversation was the typical kind of getting-to-know-you questions and answers they had conveniently forgot to ask at the ball.
Jorie was a few years older than her - if you didn't count the thirty years or so that Regina had kept her ageless. He preferred the color yellow, and enjoyed painting along with fencing and riding, but wasn't much fond of books or libraries. His studies were his least favorite, until Belle offered to help in that manner. She excelled at studies, which lit his face up. It was a part of her that would easily fill a hole he needed filled.
But the heat in her belly from their night of dancing never returned.
Not until they returned to the dining room for supper, and she spotted the blond man with the red and blue coat, who pulled out the chair for her.
It was an hour or so before sundown when Regina spotted the tell-tale signs of the edge of Robin's camps. Here, she allowed the glamour spell she used to appear youthful to dissipate, removing her hood, and raising both arms in the air, the silver streak of hair blowing in the wind just in her peripheral vision.
"Oi, it's Regina!"
Out of nowhere, Will Scarlet plopped down onto her horse, wearing a ridiculous amount of red clothing. How a man hiding in the woods managed to wear red without magick always made her roll her eyes.
She smiled anyway. "Hey, Will."
"You've been gone long enough." He muttered around a large bite of apple. "Robin's gonna be pleased to see you again."
She felt herself soften at the mention of her husband. "How is he?"
"Better once he sees you, I imagine. We've not stopped once these last few weeks in our assault against the Sheriff." He spit out a seed at the mention of the man. She shuddered, remembering her own mother had tried to set her up with him once oh so long ago. He didn't take the news well of Regina's marriage to Robin, and that spurred an entirely new layer of assaults in the forest, not that the bumbling sheriff could ever do anything right to catch Robin unless Robin wanted to be caught.
How she missed this giant chess game that was her life.
With the guidance of Will, it only took her a few minutes to reach the camp, and her waiting husband who grinned at her as soon as their eyes locked.
"Welcome home, my love." He greeted, helping her dismount, planting a kiss to her lips to a chorus of whoops and catcalls. He broke the kiss to glare - unsuccessfully - at his men.
"Oh, leave them alone. I'm too pleased to be back in your arms to care about your men's ignorance."
He grinned at her in response. "Are you back?" Her face fell, and he nodded in understanding. "How long?"
She glanced around before meeting his eyes again, and he took the hint, walking her hand in hand back to his tent.
"How long, Regina?"
"Just tonight." His face fell, but she could see the understanding in his eyes. "I'm going to visit an old friend tomorrow to help Snow, and hopefully, this will all be over soon."
He smiled sadly. "It won't be soon enough." He reached over to douse the flame in their tent, before kissing along her jaw down to the pulse point, making her breathe in a shuddering breath.
Tonight will be a good night.
Emma felt useless. She'd been on ships, true enough, but had never helped the crew in any manner - and after receiving a crash course on what Killian needed from her, leaving her feeling a little lost, she was realizing fairly quickly that she had no idea what she was doing.
Until the minutes ticked by, turning into an hour, and he hadn't asked her help in one damn thing.
She stomped over to him with her arms crossed.
He grinned at her with a twinkle in his eye.
"Aye, love?"
"Aren't you going to ask me to help?"
"Don't need it."
"Then why-" Realization sank in. He was paying her back for making him ask her father for permission. "You're a pig."
He waved a finger at her. "Devilishly handsome pig, thank you."
She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her throat, as she turned in time to see her family castle.
"I'm almost home. Were we really that close?"
"Aye, another half hour and we'll be docked. I'd wager your father has a man at the docks to escort us as soon as we arrive." She eyed him, a question on her tongue, but he beat her to it. "It is improper for us to be so secluded, love, and this'll have been the second time we've been without a chaperone."
Her lungs deflated. She knew he was right, damnit, and her father would swoop in to collect her and remove her from the pirates clutches as soon as possible.
"I guess it may be bad timing to ask him, then."
"Quite the contrary. If he realizes I can stand you after being cooped up with you and your mood for a few hours, perhaps he'll agree to my proposal."
"You're really going to ask him?"
"Before the dawn of the new day." She had to fight the swarm of pleasant emotions mixed with anxiety that was attacking her stomach. "Unless you've changed your mind of course."
Her head spun to him before she could think. He looked nervous, ready for rejection.
"No." She murmured. "I haven't."
His look of utter disbelief was soon replaced by awe and hope and another emotion she couldn't fathom, finally a smile spread across his face so wide she wondered if it would crack entirely.
It didn't take long for their now normal conversation to fill the final half hour of their trek, soon docking before she even realized it.
Sure enough, John - the stranger from Midas' castle - appeared, all decked out in his soldier gear, there to greet them with two more horses than he himself needed.
Killian greeted him like a Captain would a subordinate. Emma had to bite her tongue when John reacted like Killian really was his Captain. Then she took in the pirate - really took him in - and saw more of Captain Hook there than she'd ever seen. It was less surprising, then.
But when he turned to her, it was almost as if Captain Hook fell off of him like a rumpled coat onto the floor, and Killian Jones returned her stare.
He was both.
The journey to the castle didn't take nearly as long as she'd have liked, knowing what Killian intended to do once they got there.
Killian was a bundle of nerves.
He'd plowed ahead too quickly, he knew it, but it had been making Emma feel better. It helped her to heal, move past her Depression, move past the Bargaining, and her eyes began to shine once more.
He tried to give her an out, he really did, but she told him no. She hadn't changed her mind.
He still felt like an ass for pushing forward, despite the warm glow in his belly.
Which led him to wink at her when he asked for a moment of Prince Charming's time. The bloody king raised an eyebrow at the two of them before stalking off toward his stateroom, Killian following behind only a few steps. It was a subtle gesture, allowing the king to lead him, but any man would recognize it as a silent admission of juch which of them were currently Alpha.
To boot, his wife was away, and unable to lend her calming hand to the situation.
But Killian never backed down from a challenge.
David leaned against his desk, facing him, crossing his legs at the ankles and his arms at his chest, stoically waiting. Silently.
Killian cocked his head. "You know why I'm here."
"I haven't a clue." But his eyes were glistening in mirth, and his tone suggested he was enjoying this a little too much.
"I wish to formally ask to court your daughter."
"Oh, you wish it? What's stopping you?"
Though the king was playing with him, he took in his words.
"Nothing, save, the timing. I'm worried it's too soon."
The king's mirth vanished at that. "What happened on your ship, Hook?"
Killian breathed deeply before deciding honesty was his only choice. He summarized the end of her depression, the bits of bargaining she delt with, and his flirtation which seemed to bring her back to herself.
David kept eye contact through the whole story, never wavering from his pose, keeping his lips in a thin line that - likely - prevented him from interrupting.
Finally, after the tale was told and several infuriating moments passed, David stood to move around his desk, unearthing a glass bottle and two glass cups out of a drawer. Silently, still, he poured splashes into each, moving back around the desk to hand one to the pirate before him with a heavy sigh.
"I can't believe I'm here." He said, shaking his head.
Killian wasn't expecting that. "Majesty?"
David caught his eyes once more, lifting the glass to his lips, savoring the nectar there. "I can't believe I'm here. With a man so in love with my daughter that he's not asking to court her, despite the fact that he very much wants to." He shook his head again, breaking the contact only for a moment. "And I can't believe that this man is a pirate. Or that I find him worthy. I never thought I'd ever find a man worthy of my daughter."
Killian was too stunned to even breathe.
"So ask me properly, then."
"Ask-"
"Courting can sometimes take years, Hook. Your worries for her are valid, but from what I've seen, you do help her. And it seems like this is what she wants. So ask me."
It took Killian all of five seconds to wrap his head around everything the king had implied, and on how exactly he was going to phrase this question.
"May I have your blessing in courting your daughter?"
David narrowed his eyes slightly, before raising his glass. "Blessing given."
Thank you for reading!
