Chapter 9 - An Answer.
The castle continued filled with life, laughter, and friends all around even after the celebration.
After a long night of celebrating and dancing, as it would often happen every year, Snow and Charming allowed closest friends and visitors to stay around, and occupy the empty rooms of the towers of the large castle.
To Emma, that meant that even in the earliest hours of her waking up –having a dreadful, wine-induced headache, might she add– she couldn't escape from the lighthearted chats and the cordial hellos she received throughout her morning.
The large table at the dining room always had more than a few seats unoccupied, her small family too small for how big their castle was. However, that day at breakfast, servants had to bring in a couple of chairs from another room so everybody would have their space on the table. All sorts of people sat side by side, taking food from larger plates onto their own, and eating up as they engaged in conversation with the people beside them.
She sat in the middle of her parents, as she usually would. Grumpy and Sneezy sat right in front of them, in a heated conversation on which of them had the better dancing moves — interrupted every few moments by a loud sneeze.
"Not on my plate, Sneezy!" Grumpy had growled, making the people that seated nearby turn their faces to the shorter men and laugh.
The food was leftover cake and fresh fruits, and while the cake seemed to taste even better than it did the previous night, she still ate it with an absent mind, almost playing with the piece of cake with her fork. Her hunger was, apparently, obstructed by her thoughts.
And why lie, most of them were about the previous night. Of him, more specifically.
Of desperate kisses and sweet sighs in the middle of a darkened room.
She was smitten, there's no denying that.
And then there was the matter of today, of their plans to go out after Belle.
There weren't any more excuses of balls or reason to wait around, they would go on an adventure together today — and if that didn't flare her nerves up before, now that things were a little more tangled up it nearly made her heart jump so harshly it felt like it would nearly escape through her mouth.
Since when had Emma not left the nearby lands of her castle? Maybe as a child, traveling with mom and dad to go to weddings and visit loved ones; but that was many years ago, and she could barely remember it.
And now she had the opportunity to leave, and with Killian, for god's sake! Making the trip with him, even if it were a short one, was something that she fantasized about from a while ago. Ever since they'd sat on that bar together, and they drank for hours with him telling her the stories of his journeys throughout lands for far and different to her own, that Emma could barely imagine what they might be like.
What would happen once she saw him today?
Would he acknowledge what had happened the night before? Or would he play it nonchalantly as he would often do after bearing himself and push away?
Or would he stand by his words from last night?
I'd go mad if I kept this to myself any longer.
She was sure she might go mad too from the suspense.
"Emma?"
Snow's voice snapped her out of her own thoughts, as she came to realize her mother had been talking to her. Emma lifted her eyes from the barely-eaten food on her plate.
"What?" Emma mused, distractedly.
"I asked you if you had fun last night?" Snow repeated her question, in that tone of hers almost too nice to be real, but undoubtedly truthful.
Emma smiled shyly, "Oh, it was great. Thanks for everything, mom,"
Snow smiled kindly back at her.
"I guess it wasn't too much, like you feared," Snow teased her, and Emma shook her head.
"Everything was about perfect last night," Emma said, and this was completely truthful. "The music, the ballroom—"
"Even the suitors?" Snow blurted out, with that excited little tone she'd never known how to hide. Clearly, she'd been anxiously waiting to get the opportunity to pop that question.
"Suitors?" Emma snorted, playing it off nonchalantly. "No way, mom—"
"Why, but you danced with so many guys..."
Emma shook her head, "Oh, they were all great, but I wouldn't consider them sui—"
"Oh, come on, don't play dumb!" Snow blurted out — yet another thing she had been dying to say. She had a knowing and excited look in her eyes. "Who was he?"
She couldn't possibly know—!
"I don't know what you mean," Emma blatantly lied, shrugging her shoulders as if she had no thought over her accusations. She hoped the sudden panic that panged her stomach didn't show on her face.
Had she noticed the sneaking away? Had she noticed those stolen moments Emma had gotten with the pirate last night?
"Oh, Emma, everybody noticed,"
Uh-oh.
Emma would deny everything, "I truly don't know."
"Your dance with that handsome young man, the dark-haired one!" Snow excitedly said in a hushed tone, leaning into her daughter. "You must know what I mean! You looked like you were floating — you've never looked like that around any other man before."
Emma nearly rolled her eyes, hoping not to blush. She kept her pretense, uninterested. "Like what?"
"Happy."
She should've known people would be watching them — actually, she had caught a glimpse of them, as Killian and herself left the dancefloor, of people staring with surprise and curiosity.
And of course, her mom wanted to know.
Yet she wasn't ready to tell her, so she refuted: "Mom, it was just dancing. In reality, I danced with so many people last night — and I've got some blurry memories from the wine last night, so I don't remember it too well. I don't even know his name."
She was blatantly lying, and Snow eyed her with suspicion.
"Well, if were you I would really want to remember," she took a bite from her plate, feigning uninterest. "You glowed and he looked at you like... Well, never mind. Either way, if you truly remember nothing he shall remain a mystery — I don't think anybody saw him after that, and with so many invitations we've sent for this ball, I can't for the life of me remember who he could possibly be."
Emma had to fight the pleased look that wanted to show on her face, as what her mother had just said was what she'd initially intended when she gave Killian the invitation. She took a mouthful of cake, hoping it'd disguise any type of emotion that might show on her face and blow her pretense. "Yeah, who knows who he could've been."
The suspicious glare Snow threw at her one final time, made it clear that she knew her daughter well enough to know there was something left unsaid over the matter.
The morning was swiftly passing by, and after a couple of hours of waiting around Emma had grown anxious.
She had sneaked her way back into her chambers and changed her clothing into an outfit she often used when she planned to spend her day horseriding. She changed her long dress for comfortable pants and a long-sleeved shirt, garments she actually found more practical than the tight corsets she was used to wearing. Their trip would be hours long, and she better stay comfortable for it.
The real question here was — how would Emma ever explain this? Leaving to probably return so many hours later, perhaps not even return today.
With no plan real in mind, all she had left to do was improvise.
She left her tower, discreetly trying to make her way to the stables. She had only gone through a couple of rooms –headed for the main gates–, when a woman intercepted her. With a wolfish smile, she stood in her way, before pulling her to the side.
"So?"
Emma looked at her godmother in bewilderment, as both women stood behind a pillar now. "So what?"
"It was him, wasn't he?"
For God's sake, had her morning truly been occupied with two boy conversations both less than hours apart?
"I don't know what you're talking about," Emma denied, for what felt like the umpteenth time that morning.
"His scent rubbed on you a bit, I can smell it," Red insisted. "The same scent you had when you came to visit me the other day. And I saw you together last night — my, when you said he was handsome you never mentioned how handsome."
Red cheekily winked at her, and though Emma had been about to yet again deny it all, an answer unwittingly left her mouth: "I never said he was!"
"Aha!" Red exclaimed triumphantly. "It was him. I didn't you were seeing him."
Oh, god, could the conversation get any more awkward?
"I'm not," Emma bluntly and sharply said, and continued to lie through her teeth: "We've become friends, that's all. I actually have to go, Red—"
"Oh — oh, go to him I see," Red knowingly said, and after a second, furrowed her brow, apparently concerned. "Does Snow know?"
"No," Emma bit down her inner cheek, a sheepish look creeping up on her face. And then, an idea popped into her head, lighting up her eyes. Maybe the she-wolf could help her today. "Maybe we could—"
Nearly immediately, eyes slightly widened, she cut her off, shaking her head. She knew exactly what Emma had been about to say. "No, no, Emma, I'm not lying to your mother for you!"
"We'll just tell her we're going out to your place together, come on," Emma pleaded, taking her godmother's hands. The older's woman's face, however, told her she needed more than that to get her to accept. "Look, I will tell my parents about this, eventually — but if right now they knew what I am up to they'd be worried and they won't let me do this."
Red seemed uncertain, "And what are you up to, Emma?"
She shook her head. "It's not what you think, auntie Red. It's not like I'm running off to secretly meet a boy I like,"
It wasn't a lie, but it also wasn't completely true — she was indeed going to secretly meet the boy she liked.
The older woman eyed her with suspicion like she didn't believe it. "Then what are you doing?"
"He's — we're trying to find someone. A friend, maybe in danger. He's helping."
Red still seemed uncertain, her attitude more like a reprimanding, older sibling. "Fine — but since when has a pirate's help become more worthwhile than your parents'?"
It was a good question, one Emma even asked herself once before. Her parents were the king and queen of the land after all; they were wise and resourceful, and clearly, the more logical choice would always be to count on her parents with her task, especially when a friend needed help.
But her parents already had their story written in storybooks and were blissful with their calm, quiet happy ending. And Emma thought maybe, just maybe, she could do this one thing on her own. Maybe she had foolishly thought she could begin to write her own adventure, alongside the pirate.
"Just trust in me, Red," Emma replied softly, "Sooner or later I will tell my parents, but for now I need to do this on my own. Will you help?"
After brief moments of hesitation, Red let out a resigned sigh.
They had gone together to talk to Snow, feeding her little white lies. Emma told her about how she wanted to spend her day at Red's, so the older woman would give her a belated present Emma had asked for: some tracking lessons in the woods.
"We'll be back tomorrow," Emma said, arms entwined with the older woman.
Snow, although reluctant at first, didn't seem to think much about it. "Okay, but do be careful,"
Emma planted a kiss on her mother's cheek, lovingly, "Thank you, mommy,"
The sun indicated that it was a couple of hours before noon when they had departed, Emma and Red mounted on Autumn, her chestnut horse. Though not a single soul in the castle would ever know about it, Emma would leave Red alone at her cabin, having herself no intention of staying by her side.
"You will be careful, won't you?" Red crossed his arms, staring at the blonde that remained mounted on the horse.
"Yes, auntie Red,"
"And are you aware that if you don't come back tomorrow, I'll have to tell your mom?" Red warned her.
Emma rolled her eyes, "I will be back. Come on, don't ruin my adventure so early."
The older woman seemed concerned. "I only worry about you — and your mom."
Emma bit down her lower lip, feeling a hint of guilt. Lying to her mom, and making her godmother participate in the lie. At what point had she started hiding things from her family?
Maybe a part of her wanted to keep her feelings hidden in a box — so no one else in the world would see, because she was sure they wouldn't understand.
The adventure, the risks, the escapades — her parents would eventually understand it, having been themselves the ones who had put the idea in her head of how wonderous the adventurous and heroic life could be.
But, what would her father say to know that a villainous, one-handed pirate was he courting her? Taking her to filthy taverns, making her sneak away from the castle... Emma could perfectly picture him sword in hand, war-ridden, going after the pirate.
Her mother would surely be quieter and comprehensive, understanding her like she always did with that sweet and gentle soul of hers. But would she truly approve? Or deep down, perhaps, she would wish her daughter had grown fond of another kind of man — a hero like them.
Emma would tell them, she knew she would... but no, not yet.
Having said goodbye to Red, after giving her yet other reassuring words to calm her, Emma disappeared within the woods, headed for the town.
As she reached the town she found Killian was waiting for her near the harbor, holding a white horse by the leather reins.
He showed her a flashy grin as he saw her, halting her ride near him. "Love, you came,"
There was still the same cocky smirk in his face, along with the mischief in his eyes and his laidback confidence. What had happened the night before had not changed her dynamics at all.
"Did you think I would miss the action?" Emma rolled her eyes, getting off her horse.
Killian raised an eyebrow at her, cheekily, "I know you well enough to know that you wouldn't ever back down from danger,"
"You know, a princess can't resist a good adventure," Emma said quietly, surprised to almost too naturally mimic his flirtatious tone. He was definitely rubbing on her.
There was an unspoken camaraderie between the two of them; as if they knew a secret meant only from them.
He seemed to look her up and down, slightly surprised. "You're wearing pants," Killian commented, with amusement.
Emma raised an eyebrow, "Something wrong about that?"
If he was a fan of women wearing nothing but skirts and corsets, she would be about to start an interesting discussion with him.
"Actually, I rather prefer my women in pants," Killian shook his head, saying flirtatiously, "I've just never seen you in anything but dresses. Allow me to say, lass, pants accentuate your figure quite well,"
Emma rolled her eyes; however, it was quite noticeable how pink her cheeks became at the comment.
"Well, if we're going to spend hours traveling, I'd better make myself comfortable" Emma explained, "What's the plan?"
"We're leaving, right now," Killian said, starting to walk, and Emma followed him. She walked beside him, the horses following behind as they were pulled by the reins. "Better to leave before noon, so we'll get there early."
They walked through the streets, houses, and the townspeople, making their way to the woods.
"Anyway, how was your morning, your highness?" Killian asked, and Emma turned to find him smiling cheekily at her.
Her mouth twisted, hiding a smile herself, remembering the conversations she'd had from earlier. "Not very eventful — although I must tell you, it looks like you made quite an impression last night."
"Dear mom and pops asking about that dashing rapscallion from the ball?" he asked proudly.
"Something like that," Emma admitted, and decided to add, mischievously, "They were wondering if any suitors were worthy enough to catch my attention."
Her steps slowed, as they reached the beginning of the forest. Killian stopped, stepping instead to come closer to her, facing her.
"And did any?"
Deep blue eyes bore into her, and although his gaze was serious, his eyes had a glow telling her that he already knew her answer — he just wanted to hear her say it.
Emma smirked. "Wouldn't you want to know, huh?"
Although her passionate kiss last night had spoken volumes about her feelings, Emma wasn't ready to let go of that cheeky side of their relationship. The shameless flirting, the tease, and quick snark — the way she would be only whenever she was around him.
They seemed to have built a small language between the two of them; consisting of slight smiles and knowing stares, which expressed more than the rest of the world would imagine.
"Oh, trust me I would," Killian said simply, his right hand reaching out to move a loose blonde hair, and tuck it behind her ear. His hand lingered, fingers resting lightly on her cheek and jaw. Again, everything had become very quiet — just him and her and their stares that refused to break away. She for a moment believed they were about to kiss.
But he, always the more centered one, only muttered the words, close to her: "Come on, love. The faster we get out of this, the faster we can get to enjoy some more fun activities."
The way he pronounced the word 'fun' took away any childish meaning the word could carry, and a chill ran down her spine.
He moved away to mount on his horse, and Emma mimicked his actions.
And although the idea of this adventure thrilled her immensely, oh how she was looking forward to the more fun part of being with him.
The road ahead was filled with laughs and conversation, about what seemed like everything their minds could come up with. It was a few hours later that they reached the small village.
It was a simple place, seemingly quiet and tranquil, which made Emma curious.
"This place doesn't feel like what I had expected," Emma had wondered out loud as they left the horses by the stables, looking at Killian with doubt. Was this the right place?
Everything seemed to go about normally - people walked by and nothing seemed out of place or odd. Was this a place haunted by a beast?
Killian shrugged, remaining quietly serious as they analyzed their surroundings. "We'll have to ask around, love."
They walked around slowly side by side, reaching the town's square; which seemed to be the liveliest place in the village. Children played nearby a fountain, as women and men walked by around, chatting and making their shops.
Definitely not one of them seemed like they might fear an impending danger from a beast.
"Let's ask what happened," Emma said. They decided to approach a short old woman, with long greying hair. She was attending a booth of exotic vegetables and fruits and roots, some which Emma had never seen before in her life. Emma began to speak softly, "Ma'am, excuse me - We're travelers and we've made a stop here in this lovely village - but, we've heard rumors of this land being haunted by a beast, and frankly, it's quite concerning,"
Emma stepped a bit closer to Killian as she spoke. It was better to say they were a traveling couple, as it would raise far fewer questions. "Should we? Be concerned?"
The older woman shook her head like she had no interest at all in the conversation. "Oh dear, do you think people would be walking by so freely if there were something to concern? When the beast used to attack, everyone stayed hidden in their houses for days - not a soul would be seen on the streets. You have nothing to be worried about."
"Did someone kill the beast?" Killian chimed in, curiously.
"Killed it, made it disappear, took it home with them for all I care," The woman waved the question off with her hand. "As I said, most of us were hidden in our houses when it happened, trying to not become food for the beast. All I care about is that thing is no longer around to bother us."
"Well, did anyone see what happened? We heard of a reward, we assume somebody must've come to try and kill the thing,"
The woman nodded, though seemed to be easily tired of the conversation. "Supposedly some people gathered and watched the scene, and say it was quite a peculiar thing. In my time, when it came to beasts and prizes and quests it was a job for the men - but I guess, in now's times women are far more courageous than men."
That piqued Emma's interest. Yes, her intuition told her they were headed in the right direction. Still, she played dumb. "Were they women the ones who confronted the beast?"
"So they say," she confirmed, and Emma shot a look to the pirate beside her, finding he had also thrown her a knowing look. The older lady seemed to sense that they still had questions, or perhaps she just wanted for the conversation to move on, but she added: "If you're still curious, the butcher from around the corner says he saw everything that happened that night."
"Thanks," they thanked her, moving away from the spot. As soon as they were away enough not to be heard, they began speaking to each other, hushedly.
"I suppose this is no coincidence," Emma said under her breath. "I have the feeling Belle was involved in this."
Killian shook his head. "I do too have the same feeling. Whatever trouble your friend has been getting herself into, we're close to finding what happened."
They wasted no time in doing as the old woman said, walking into the butchery to speak with the bulky man at the front. He, in fact, did have more details to share about what had happened:
"It was a disaster. The Yao-Guai wrecked everything in his path, we all had to take cover… Two young women were brave enough to face it — and the next thing we all knew, instead of a beast we were facing a man; some said he was a prince, actually, cursed to take the shape of the beast. The ladies, apparently, figured a way to break him from the spell."
"What were these women like?" Killian asked him.
"That young lady, Mulan — her family lives on the southeast of this village. It was no surprise, as it has been well known she's been training since very young to become a warrior. The other lady wasn't from around this place, apparently a friend of Mulan's."
"Did you ever get her name?"
He thought about it for a moment. "It was a lovely, short name — Ella, Elle..."
"Belle!" Emma triumphantly exclaimed.
"That's it," he nodded. "She was petite and lovely, yet braver than most. You know her, I presume."
"She's our friend," Emma explained. "We're looking for her, we fear she might be in trouble. Do you know where she went after that?"
The man shook his head, an apologetic look on his face. "I'm sorry. Perhaps someone else saw something, but I lost sight of her after that night."
They left the butchery with more answers than they had before — yet, their most important question remained unresolved.
Where was Belle now?
They spent the day looking for answers among the commoners, asking questions and listening to their stories — each with different details, but they all led to the same thing: Nobody had seen Belle since that night she saved the village from the Yao-Guai.
As the afternoon set in, they had decided to stop for a moment, starting to feel tired and frustrated. Killian had changed a few coins at one of the shops for something to eat, and they ended up sitting on the small stone walls circling the fountain at the middle of the square; nibbling quietly at the food they were eating, not quite as tasty and fresh as the meals Emma was used to, yet she was hungry enough to eat it without a word.
"What happens if no one saw her?" Emma asked after a while, throwing Killian a worried look. Though he remained quiet and seemingly calm, his brow had deeply furrowed.
"We'll find something eventually, Swan," he responded, though he didn't sound too certain about his own words. "Nobody disappears just like that."
Emma nodded, choosing to believe that had to be true. She had to be somewhere — and they were just in need of a bit of luck.
They'd been so preoccupied with their task, they'd barely been able to focus on anything else. But truth was, as she took the moment of quietness to look around, she realized how lovely the village appeared to be. It was something new to her, outside her lands, all picturesque and exciting for her to discover for the first time.
She couldn't help but wonder what would've happened if they weren't so worried about finding Belle, if only they were the traveling couple they pretended to be — would they be strolling around the streets, hand in hand? Would they flirt and chat as they discovered the unknown places, stopping only to watch the sunset in an embrace?
"Not quite the adventure you pictured, love?" Killian commented like he had been reading right through her thoughts.
Emma shook her head, "No, actually — this place feels nice." Those words were honest. She then, hesitantly, added: "I just wondered what else would we be doing, if we didn't have to look for Belle."
A quiet couple of seconds followed, before Killian leaned into her, whispering –actually, purring– into her ear: "Believe me, love, if we didn't have so much in our hands today we'd be in a much more private situation — probably far less clothed, too."
Whether it had been a tease or there was some sincerity to the words, it made Emma feel suddenly flustered. She turned her head to watch him, eyes widened and cheeks a deep red. "That's not what I was thinking ab—"
Killian let out a wonderful laugh, perhaps enjoying a bit too much how flustered Emma was. "Relax, love, I'm teasing."
Emma turned away from his stare, because even though she didn't wish to admit it, the truth was that her thoughts had been heading that direction far more than she would've liked.
The idea that their kisses from the previous night had gone further; of knowing what it would feel his body pressed with hers, of getting rid of all the layers of clothing that separated him from her.
His kisses had riled up her senses, make her long for something she never had before.
Trying to place her thoughts someplace else, Emma had her attention caught by what seemed like something glistening beneath the fountain's water. She squinted her eyes to try to make out what it was, and when she did she let out a soft gasp. "Killian, there are coins beneath the water!"
She turned her face back to Killian's, who had a mixed look of surprise and amusement — as he chuckled under his breath. "Clearly, love. It's a common practice, commoners throw coins in exchange for wishes. It's no real magic, but it's supposed to be of luck."
The concept was ridiculous to her. Killian insisted for a while that it was something extremely normal, though something the princess had never seen done before –perhaps some things she couldn't learn about in the solitude of her castle–, making her extremely curious. So curious, in fact, that it had led her to stand up while searching in her satchel for a coin.
With an incredulous gaze, Killian stood up beside her, folding his arms in front of his chest as he watched her hold a silver coin in her hand. It seemed like he was holding back laughter.
"I just wish for something, and that's it?" Emma inquired, doubtful.
"Whatever it is your heart's desire," Killian nodded. "And then you throw it into the water."
She looked away for a moment as she thought and then voiced out loud: "Well, I wish we'll get an answer to what we came looking for."
She held out her hand, dropping the coin and watching it fall and sink into the water. She chuckled.
For some reason, this whole idea was extremely entertaining to her, which made her pull out another coin — this time offering it to Killian. "Your turn."
When she turned her face to look at him, she realized he had been staring at her intently, his expression hard to decipher. A mix of something that resembled awe and disbelief and Emma scowled slightly. "What?"
Killian shook his head, with a slight chuckle, and accepted the coin, taking it in his hand. Staring down at his palm, he seemed in deep thought for a couple of seconds, before apparently making his decision. With a flick of his thumb, he tossed the coin into the fountain and it flipped through the air before falling into the water with a 'pop'.
"Wait, you didn't say what the wish was!" Emma was quick to complain, which had Killian rolling his eyes at her in response.
"You don't have to say it in order for it to come true, lass."
A deep curiosity ran through her, as he was clearly avoiding answering that. "Come on, what did you wish?"
Killian shook his head and then smirked at her. "Among your large arsenal of skills, don't you have any wish-detecting abilities?"
Emma frowned at his tease. "I can detect lies — not wishes!"
Killian chuckled and nudged her slightly by her shoulder. He nodded to a side, telling her to move on. "Let's go, lass."
As the sun was set low, the town became a lot quieter and empty — people headed back into their homes, ready to call it a day. And while Killian wasn't ready to give up just yet, they seemed to have reached an impasse that day. With not many more ideas left and the night falling above their heads, they decided to make their way to the village's inn.
After making sure it was okay with Emma, who was being keen on not desisting –'We can't leave until we get some information on Belle!'– and that it'd be okay if she spent that day away from her lands, that they used a few coins to get a place to rest that night. They were handed a rusty key to a room, only theirs for that night.
Heading upstairs, they encountered it was a fairly small room — with nothing but a bed, a sofa, and a small closet. It seemed dirty like it hadn't been cared for in a very, very long time.
Killian eyed Emma carefully, waiting for her response to such drastic change — just yesterday he'd been to her room for her first time, large and full of accommodations. He couldn't help but wonder if this would be something too far from her comfort zone.
Emma, however, just looked around quietly. "Well, it does the job, at least — Ouch!"
She complained out loud as she had attempted to throw herself into the bed, falling on her back and finding this bed wasn't anywhere near as soft as the ones she was used to.
Part of him hated putting her in this situation. His companion was a princess, and there he was taking her to dirty inns as if she were a mere wench!
"I'm sorry this is not a proper place for a princess, love," he said, apologetic. "We should have been finished and heading home by now,"
He grunted, plopping himself into the couch and pinching his nose with his good hand. A headache threatened to take away any traces of a good mood remaining on him.
The day, in reality, hadn't been half-bad at all; though his real plans remained progressless, the afternoon with the lass had brought some joy into his heart.
He'd seen her that previous night, beautiful with fireworks reflecting in her eyes, that he hadn't been able to stop the drumming of his heart. They fell into an unimaginable peace standing side by side, falling into a moment he months ago would've believed impossible and nonexistent for him.
So much so, his tongue had gone loose and he'd begun talking to her about those thoughts and fantasies he'd been having lately — of getting away from all trouble, only him and the sea and Emma. Of watching Emma's face light up as she saw the sunset at sea, of allowing her into his world and teaching her that life could be so much more.
And then she had been furious, questioning his decision to go after the crocodile, under that classic morality of heroes.
Though he'd always felt like this woman understood him more than most, that was something he knew she would never understand.
The name Milah escaped his lips and though Emma would probably deny it, Killian had in fact seen a brief hurt in her eyes as she looked away. It had made him admit to her all the doubts and realizations that kept him up at night — for so many years, he had believed the only thing he deserved was this empty, aching feeling that laid in his heart.
But then he knew her — knew her laughter, her quick and daring responses to his every remark, her brilliance and bravery; his life was a little brighter now, as she was dulling out the pain and loneliness from his life before.
He remained awake at night, realizing that what he felt just then was something much closer to love than the hatred and resentment that had kept him alive all those years, under the pretense that it was all in the name of love.
While he still wished to honor his once beloved, to do what was right by her; he now knew Milah's ghost wasn't the one who held his heart just then and there.
But how to explain? When he could barely understand himself sometimes, his feelings too new for him to deeply understand them.
To let go of his revenge! Give up and let go of all of what had made him himself for the last hundreds of years, give up on the only goals he'd set for his life before the possibility of hope and love.
Was it something realistic? Was he really deserving of that?
And then the lass had the nerve to ask him of why his changed opinion on love, and it was nearly comical! She'd left, not waiting for an answer — and within the silence that followed, his heart sank at the idea of letting the woman beside him leave; to not letting her know if only for a moment how he felt.
He was smitten, there's no denying that.
And that was a problem. She had a way to easily pull him far from what he cared about, to make him forget about his plans and the rest of the world.
His urgency to continue with his plans had been faltering, as he knew fairly well his road to revenge would be a road for one — and when he headed down that road he would most likely never be again with the princess, and now that had become into something he nearly dreaded.
Even today, his mind wasn't completely on his task — as he stood in awe at the lovely princess, so much so that as he watched the coin and thought of what to ask as a wish, his thoughts would only lead to one word. Emma.
He wished he had met her differently — in a life where he could be the hero that would fit her story, where he could change his past and let go of his resentments.
"We'll find something," the soft voice was closer than he'd imagined, snapping him out of his thoughts. He opened his eyes and found Emma had stood up from the bed, and was right in front of him, with arms folded. "Come on, captain, be a bit more optimistic."
Killian snorted. "It's no time for optimism when the lass is always slipping away from us."
Emma shook her head.
"Come on," she extended her hand towards him, making him raise his eyebrows in surprise and curiosity. "If we have to stay the night in this place, at least we can use this moment to take our minds off of everything that concerns us, can't we?"
She urged him to grab her hand, and Killian wasn't able to disguise the slight smile that crept through his face as he took it. He could've sworn there was a nearly electrical feeling as they touched.
Neither of them attempted to let go of the other's hand until they were already downstairs and settled on a table.
A bottle was brought to them soon enough, glasses were quickly served — and Emma lifted hers, mischief glistening in her eyes.
"Well, cheers,"
Killian raised his eyebrow, lips pursed together trying to avoid a smile. "To what, love?"
"I suppose there's not much to celebrate today..." Emma seemed to think about it for a moment, then, she smirked, "Well, we can celebrate you being my first—"
"Oh, am I now?" he inquired, pleased smirk upon his face — and he nearly laughed out loud at how red Emma suddenly became.
"My first adventure," she clarified her words, annoyed.
"Right," he chuckled through his teeth. Leaning forward into the table, he lifted his glass as well. "Then, love, here's to first adventures."
Their glasses clinked together, and nearly in synchronization, they brought them to their lips and emptied their contents.
As she stumbled into the room, she realized perhaps she had drunk a bit more than she was supposed to.
They had been having such a fun time together, she didn't mind taking sip after sip of the bitter liquor. It had been Killian who pointed out how empty the bottle was — and that perhaps it was time to call it a day.
He now stood behind her, his hand pressed on the low of her back, to try and steady her stumbling steps.
"Well, that was fun, wasn't it?" The gleeful, giggly tone so unlike herself, made it certain that she in fact she wasn't entirely in her right state of mind.
Killian chuckled behind her, "Aye, love — more than enough fun for one day."
"Enough!" Emma exclaimed, turning her face to look at him side-eyed. "You sound like an old man — since when did you become a party-pooper?"
She turned around to face him, about to protest and say something like she hadn't had that much of a drink; yet Killian swiftly tried to push her into the bed.
"It's no time for parties, lass; go rest."
She grabbed him by his arms, holding on to him in an attempt to not fall into the bed — afraid if she did she might not get up again. Sleep? There was no way in hell she wanted to sleep. Emma stumbled slightly, yet remained on her feet.
She looked at him triumphantly as he hadn't succeeded in pulling her into the bed, and then pouted. "I'm not tired."
Killian rolled his eyes, "You're drunk."
Oh, maybe she was. But her thoughts were still clear, becoming even clearer as their eyes locked. There was a look of amusement on Killian's face, that handsome smirk he always wore plastered on his mouth — and it gave Emma an impulse to kiss him.
Taking him by the collar of his coat, she pushed him down — making his face lower and her lips to meet with him. She slightly stumbled backward at her own force –perhaps she'd indeed underestimated how drunk she was– yet Killian caught her by her waist, arms wrapping around her and holding her steady against him.
He grunted against her lips, his kiss long and delicate, and Emma came to realize there was always a surprising gentleness to the pirate's touches. His kisses were soft and patient, like he had all the time in the world to savor her.
But maybe it was the alcohol fogging her brain, but Emma didn't feel patient. Her hands reached up to cup his face, and she adored the rough feel of his scruff against her palms. She urged the kiss deeper, yet once again her balance was off — she stumbled forward, making Killian's legs hit the bed from behind, bending in as he fell into bed.
He'd broken the kiss letting out a surprised sound –which made Emma giggle in return– at what had just happened. "Emma—"
She had fallen right on top of him, and she readjusted her position; resting her legs to his sides, a bit below his waist, and she raised her face to look at him in response, between laughs. "What?"
There was a joyful glint in his eyes and he propped himself up with his elbows to raise into a sitting position, right hand around her waist. "Are you trying to take advantage of me, love?"
He dramatically raised his eyebrow in question, a clear tease in his voice which made her laugh once more.
Their faces were merely inches away, and despite the lighthearted joking — there was undeniably a thick tension in the air between them. His breath smelled of rum in her face, and his irises were a bit smaller than she remembered, black pupils taking over the blue she liked so much as he watched her.
Maybe she had gone crazy, but the idea came to her that not even this proximity was enough — when it came to him, she always wanted more.
She pressed her lips forcefully against him in response to his question, as she didn't have any single quirky or fun remark to give him as an answer. Killian responded immediately to the touch, hand going up to the back of her neck as he kissed her back just as intensely, making her hum into his lips.
She felt his hook against her back as he pressed her to him, as he perhaps had too that undying urge to feel her. Oh, how she craved for this man.
It was one of those kisses that would leave you with lips bruised and swollen, passion seeping through as she held on to him as if her life depended on it. Her lips parted into the kiss, and she sighed at the feeling of his tongue against hers. The sensation had all of her senses awakening too suddenly, making her insides turn and twist with want.
Almost acting on its own, her body reacted; and she ground her hips forward — seeking the slightest of relief to the ache between her legs.
A brief moan escaped her, in a mix of surprise and pleasure, as she felt him hard against her; the brief contact even through layers of clothing shooting an electric shock through her body. Killian hissed in response.
"Emma," he spoke her name in a hoarse voice, and it sounded almost like a warning. Through kisses, his hand lowered as it seemingly explored her — a shiver running through her spine as he lingered on her breast, squeezing just the slightest, before making its way down to her belly, waist, and then back; like he attempted to know what it felt like to touch every corner of her.
She wanted to feel him too, hands down his shoulders to try and push his coat off — to which he swiftly complied. The coat fell to a side, and Emma found herself more able to through her hands make out the feeling and shape of his lean figure through the more thin fabric of his shirt.
As his hands followed their exploratory state to the lower part of her back, Emma repeated the movement from earlier, wishing to feel him again.
"Darling, don't be a temptress," Killian complained with a groan, huskily. He pulled back for a moment from the kiss. "Keep doing that, and I won't be able to stop."
The comment had thrown her off guard, the idea almost irrational to her. Why would they want to stop?
"I thought pirates stopped at nothing to get what they wanted," she purred out, words more daring and bold than she would've ever dared pronounce while sober, before joining her lips again with him, a bit more slowly. Truth was, she wanted to tempt him — to dare him. Who cared how unladylike it was, or that princesses weren't supposed to kiss pirates, much less do with them the things she had in mind just then and there.
The rum and his taste and his scent pushed away any rational thought away from her brain.
Killian had moved so quickly she would have never been able to see it coming; all she knew was that she was twisted around, and her back fell against the bed — making her eyes open, widened in surprise, to catch a glimpse of Killian hovering above her, arms at both sides of her head. A silver ring held by a necklace hung between them; something she'd never noticed him wearing it as it was always hidden beneath his layers of clothing.
"Do you truly believe I'll make love to you in this ugly place, while you're drunk?" Killian hushedly spoke the words, however, his eyes were nearly blackened with lust. God, she envied his self-control. "My love, when I take you I do intend to savor the moment — and believe me, that'll be something you'll want to be able to remember the morning after."
Emma opened her mouth to protest, brow furrowing. What did it possibly matter the place they were in, or that she was drunk?! Since when did pirates concern themselves over that type of stuff?
It was definitely chivalrous of him, in spite of his cocky attitude of 'I take what I want whenever I want to' that he had displayed when she first met him. It was a surprise to her, and she couldn't decipher whether it was something she liked or not about him.
Probably liked, but right then and there her body ached with desire — and chivalrousness wasn't a priority right now!
Any complaint she wanted to voice out loud was cut off by a kiss planted to her lips, slow and caring — wordlessly telling her it was time to wait, making her sigh into it.
Killian held onto the kiss perhaps a minute too long, like pushing himself away from her was a nearly impossible task.
"I haven't wanted anyone so bad like this in centuries," he admitted under his breath, so low Emma nearly missed it. He broke their lips apart, raising himself to watch her.
She had heard him, though, and Emma placed her hand up to his cheek. Maybe it was the booze speaking for her, but she still allowed her thoughts to be voiced out loud. "And what if I told you I want you just as badly?" she muttered.
Emotions passed so quickly through his face she wasn't able to read them, and as impossible as it seemed the desire within his eyes only grew. He grunted in frustration and clenched his jaw tightly, maybe to contain what seemed like an enormous urge to take her just then and there.
Yet after mere seconds, he composed himself, raising a cocky eyebrow. "I'd say you were drunk, lass,"
How quickly could he will his emotions away. Sometimes Emma wondered if the mask he put on was actually meant for her, or in reality, it was only meant for himself. Sometimes it was easier to push the feelings aside than to admit what you feel and let go.
"Go to sleep, lass," he planted a chaste kiss on her mouth, before pulling away. The bed moved as he pushed himself away from her and off from the bed.
What a frustrating man!
What else did you expect, falling for a pirate?
She stared at the ceiling for a few long moments, refusing to look at him, annoyed. Yet after a while, realizing he wasn't coming back to the bed, she propped herself up with her shoulders to see him and realized Killian was lying down across the couch — which wasn't large enough for his tall figure, making his feet stick out.
"Don't tell me you're scared of sharing a bed with a princess," she said out loud.
"Bad form," was the only reply she got, and Emma nearly rolled her eyes in annoyance.
"There's enough space for the both of us," she stated firmly. Then, a little more softly, added: "Please?"
A couple of moments of silence followed, and Emma thought he would ignore her altogether. However, after a while, she saw him raising himself lazily, slowly making his way to the bed.
She moved to a side, giving him space to lie down beside her. Lifting the blankets, she settled herself as comfortably as she could beneath them; patting the pillow in an attempt to make it softer for her head.
Emma threw a glance at him; he remained quiet, lying on his back as he stared at the ceiling just like she had a few moments before. There was a troubled look on his face —he looked hesitant, almost unsure; like wondering what to do in this situation.
It made her wonder if perhaps he wasn't too used to this situation — sleeping beside another person. Had his life been that lonely?
Giving him one final look at him, before snuggling over her right side, turning her back on him, she mused: "Good night, Killian."
The uncertainty in his voice was palpable, as he replied: "'Night, love."
Killian woke up with a jump.
Feeling someone stir beside him, catching a glimpse of a figure on the other side of the bed, Killian felt like his heart nearly jumped out of his chest in fright for a split second.
No one had slept by his side, not in hundreds of years. The wenches he sometimes would take to bed never stayed too long after their carnal desires were fulfilled. His guard always up, he'd never allowed himself to sleep by another's side — believing he deserved the lonely nights, he needed them.
So when he noticed there was someone beside him that night, his dream-clouded head was afraid it might be a ghost or an illusion.
He relaxed after his eyes adjusted and he saw those blonde strands of hair, his mind clearing up.
It was her. The sun was barely starting to rise, its dim glow filtering through the window allowing him to watch her face — blissfully asleep.
Her lips were slightly parted and her hair tousled, yet she was still the most incredible sight he'd gazed upon.
It gave him an impulse to reach his hand out and touch her face, or place a kiss on her lips. He did neither of those.
He'd once vowed to never share his nights with another woman — never allowed anyone into his heart, into his dreams and hopes, nor his fears and gut-wrenching nightmares.
But watching her only made him want to stay a little longer, fall back asleep and pretend there was nothing else in the world but himself and the blonde beauty beside him.
He, however, decided against it. Killian rose from the bed, careful in his movements as he attempted not to wake her yet. He was used to waking a bit earlier than needed, a habit that he'd never gotten rid of after being in the royal navy.
He could allow Emma to sleep a few more moments.
Killian used the quiet moment of the morning to make his way to the loo, to splash some water into his face to awaken himself — maybe to try and splash some common sense back into him, too.
And what if I told you I want you just as badly?
His heart jumped at the memory, an electric feel surging through his body. Gods, he wanted her so badly.
And despite how much he'd like to blame it all on lust –he was just a man after all, and the chemistry and sexual tension between them had always been unmistakable–, he knew that wasn't quite it.
If it were just lust, why not take her last night like he'd done so many countless times with so many countless women?
Why had he felt that way –a feeling so similar to love– when he watched her lying beneath him, her hand on his cheek as she admitted that she wanted him?
What if I want you just as badly?
There couldn't be any truth to her words, could there? He blamed her confession on the rum. Because it couldn't be, since when princesses –no, not just princesses; for even without her title she would still be joy and bright and daring and incredible– fell for pirates?
He had most certainly messed up.
After refreshing up for a few moments, he'd decided it was time to wake Emma up. Even though his heart and mind were still at a battle, and his body ached to just lie with her and do what they hadn't the night before — they still had more important things to do.
Killian stood by her side of the bed, and couldn't help but observe for a moment. She slept so calmly –a drastic contrast between him and her, as his dreams were always haunting and unpeaceful– that he felt nearly guilty about waking her up.
"Emma, love," he gently called her, allowing his hand to go to caress her hair for a brief moment.
Emma sighed happily in her sleep and then, suddenly, swatted his hand away with her own.
It made him chuckle. "Swan, come on," he nudged her slightly by her shoulder.
She opened her eyes, disoriented for a minute. "Huh?"
"We have quite left to do," Killian explained, amused. "If you want to get back to your place in time, we better start early."
Emma groaned, burying her face into her pillow. She moaned, "Why! My head hurts—"
After how drunk she was last night, it didn't surprise him.
"You've been drinking like a pirate, lass, I'd be surprised if it didn't," Killian's lips pressed into an amused smile, "Come on, breakfast will make you feel better."
Emma had decided to stand a few moments after, groggily making her way to the bathroom. She took a couple of minutes inside to ready herself, coming out looking far more awake than before — her pale face looked a bit more fresh, and her hairs were neatly kept in a long braid.
They headed downstairs, getting breakfast from the inn. They quietly ate the bread and pieces of cheese, before getting up and headed back outside into the town, reassuming their task.
They walked through the same places, repeating the questions they had already asked the day before, fearing their mission had truly failed.
Could a woman truly vanish like that? Had the crocodile already gotten to her?
Had he waited too long?
The sun had already risen high above them, when a new idea was formed, after the suggestion of one of the villagers: There was only one main road connecting the town to other lands — if Belle had left that way, someone might have seen her.
"There's a small hut at the crossroads, it has a perfect view of the road. Perhaps you could ask there if they saw anything."
So, right on the outskirts of town, they headed through the dirt road that at some point became a crossroads — they'd already gone through one of the paths themselves, used it to get there from Emma's lands; the other paths led to other neighboring places.
They had no trouble spotting the wooden hut, small and a bit old-looking, yet clearly, it was well-cared for.
As they knocked on the door, a woman came out — looking perhaps in her eighties. She apparently didn't enjoy unexpected visitors.
"Who are you? What do you want?"
So they explained to her, the same story they had explained what felt hundreds of times before. They were looking for her friend, the one that had saved the nearby village.
"Short, blue eyes, brown-haired — have you seen her?" Emma inquired.
The old lady nodded, "I know who she is — I was in town that day when she defeated that creature," she said. "I do remember seeing her pass nearby about a week ago, but I can't remember which direction that carriage she was in went off to."
"She left in a carriage?" Emma chimed in.
The woman seemed to grow nervous, shifting her feet anxiously. She nodded, "A black carriage — it stopped next to her, and a woman got off. They both seemed in an argument for a while and then... The young lady seemed to pass out all of the sudden and was carried up into the carriage."
Killian and Emma shared a glance, mirrored surprised looks in their faces — though Killian also saw a bit of concern on hers too.
"Did you catch a glimpse of who she left with? Who the woman was?" Killian asked, looking back at the elderly woman.
"I'd rather not speak much of it — after all, I was only watching from my front yard, my sight is not the same as it was when I was younger. I might've been imagining things," the woman appeared to be distressed at the memory, shaking her head. "She looked so similar to that woman, but the last time I saw her was perhaps twenty or more years ago — and this woman was fairly young, like a day had not passed since then. Back then, she burnt the villa I lived in with my now deceased husband, you know. Even now, I was frightened to believe I had seen her, even from afar."
"Please, who was she?" Emma insisted. Killian turned his head to catch a glimpse of the blonde beside him and noticed how much paler she looked now. The ambient around them seemed heavy, as the old woman spoke the words:
"That dreadful woman — but it could not be her, some even say she's dead! That witch, that so-called queen — Regina."
A/N: *cue in suspense music*
I am beyond happy with the response this got, I am so glad you are still enjoying this story!
Few notes here and there - first, I'm sorry I was a tease with Killian denying Emma the sexytime ;) though I had originally intended it to happen in this chapter the Killian in me told me he would treat Emma differently than he would any other wench, so it'd have to be for another time! (btw, while this is M and will contain some smut, it's not going to be the main focus - and I'll only throw in the smuttiness when it's related to the plot).
Second and more importantly, WHAT! And with this chapter, the first plot twist has been revealed. Actually, this chapter signals the beginning of the actual plot - as we're only two chapters away from the ending of this part 1 of this story, which was always meant to focus mostly on their relationship and in setting the story. The real adventure is just coming ahead.
Reading your thoughts and comments has made my writing inspo go crazy, so I really appreciate them! See you soon.