Killian holds back a groan, pain shooting up his left arm as he and Dopey work together to throw another lifeless black knight overboard. Leaning over the rail, he watches the splash of the body hit the water and the ensuing shark attack that follows with grim satisfaction.

The sharks are eating well today.

When he straightens, his eyes are drawn yet again to the flowing blonde hair of the woman standing at the bow. She hasn't moved in over an hour. She'd walked away without looking at any of them after she'd killed the last knight and gone straight to where she is now.

His heart aches to go to her, to fold her into his arms and offer her any comfort she might be willing to take, but he keeps his distance. Her proud stance isn't inviting company and he gets it, the need to be alone with one's thoughts. He understands all too well the emotional conflict of coldly taking a life, the way it twists in your stomach no matter how many times you tell yourself it was necessary.

The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon and he can only hope that she finds the beauty of the sunrise on the waves as calming as he does.

Reluctantly, he turns away, surveying the deck of his ship. It's not the first time it's been in this condition but seeing the remaining blood staining the planks right now makes his stomach churn. It had been a close call. Too close. When that black knight had recognized her… When he'd been held to the ground, unable to protect her while that grimy bastard has his hands on her… he'd been more terrified than he'd ever been in his life.

Drawing a long breath to slow the way his heart pounds at the memory, he makes his way to the helm and fingers at the wheel. "Thank you, old girl. We wouldn't have gotten out of that one without you," he whispers, caressing one of the handles with the pad of his thumb.

His ship responds with a low creak, like it's conscious of the dark mood of all its passengers and doesn't want to disturb the quiet.

When he lifts his eyes to the water and sees Emma's proud stance backdropped by the reds, oranges, and yellows of the rising sun, his heart calms.

A light tug on his sleeve has him turning to Dopey who is holding out a map to him. When he opens it, he shakes his head in wonder. It's like the little dwarf reads his mind sometimes.

"Thank you, Dopey. Could you go find Ruby? I imagine this rescue mission is going to take all of us."

Dopey nods in agreement and soon, he, Ruby and Jefferson are all gathered around the helm, discussing the best course of action to get Grace back.

Once they have a plan, Ruby and Dopey disappear below deck to gather the items they'll need and Jefferson turns to him.

"Thank you, Killian. I'm sorry for…"

"Don't, mate," Killian stops him, "I understand. She's your daughter. You had no choice."

Jefferson nods his thanks, biting at his lower lip and staring back to the map with apprehension.

Killian steps forward and lays a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Jeff. It's a good plan. We'll get her back."

"You can't know that, Killian," Jefferson says. "You know what Regina's knights are like. They won't hesitate – "

"We'll do whatever it takes, Jeff."

When his friend just shakes his head, Killian turns his hand, grabbing him by the neck and forcing him to look him in the eye.

"Whatever. It. Takes," he says solemnly, "Regina will not destroy another family I care for. Do you understand?"

Their eyes hold for a moment, Killian doing his best to tell his friend what he means without actually speaking the words. When Jeff nods, he realizes he's succeeded and he nods back, an oath and an understanding passing between the two of them.

"I think I'll go help the others," his friend says after a moment, "I've got to be doing something or I'll go mad."

Killian nods as Jeff turns to go, wishing there was something more he could do. He can't imagine how terrified he must be. Little Grace is a sweet child, vibrant and full of love, and considering how badly Killian wants to get her back, he finds it remarkable that the man isn't coming out of his own skin.

Sighing, he makes a quick adjustment to the wheel before his eyes are drawn back to Emma. The sun has now risen over the water and the way it shines through her blonde locks makes her hair look like it's glowing. He's mesmerized for a moment by the magnificent picture she paints, completely overcome with how incredible she is.

She'd saved his life. That blade had been mere inches from killing him when her magic had stopped it. She'd fought like a hellion to get away from the knight who'd been holding her when they brought him down. And she hadn't even hesitated to go for his sword. He's certain she would have taken on every single one of those men by herself to protect him. And the way she'd screamed his name when the leader had been about to take his remaining hand… The agony and desperation in her voice…

His jaw clenches and he squeezes his eyes shut to stave off the pain that rises in him at the memory. What a night his fierce and courageous princess had endured, and at the end of it, she'd had to make a decision that would forever change her.

Her innocence had been destroyed in that brief space of time, and it had been an excruciating sight to witness, to see her soul harden the same way his had so many years ago. He would have done anything to help her through that moment. He'd known immediately what she was about when she'd taken his sword from him. And he'd been tempted to deny her, to finish the man off himself to spare what little innocence he could for her but, in the end, he'd given in, knowing she'd needed to take that final step herself.

But looking at her now, with the wind blowing through her hair and the sun making it glow, she looks every bit as innocent as the day they met. She'd been standing in nearly the same exact spot the first time he'd seen her…

.

They're early.

He's still below in his cabin, adding an extra shine to the buttons of his coat when he hears Liam's voice above deck. They were supposed to return at mid-day but, apparently, the Royal Family was in a hurry to get to their destination.

He sprints to the ladder, skipping every other rung in the hopes that he can get to the deck before he's missed.

"Ah, and here he is now, my Lieutenant and little brother, Killian Jones," Liam says when he sees him.

Killian wants to roll his eyes at the 'little brother' dig, but he manages not to, instead straightening to his full height and clicking his heels together when he stands before the King and Queen.

"Your Majesties," he says with a bow. "Welcome aboard The Jewel of the Realm. Please excuse my tardiness."

The Queen gives him a kind smile. "It's our fault, Lieutenant. I'm afraid our daughter is very anxious to get to the christening so we're running a little early," the Queen says.

"Completely understandable," Killian replies.

The Queen's arm is linked through her husband's and she gives it a light squeeze. The King reciprocates by laying his free hand over hers, the action obviously one they've shared many times.

Surprisingly, something about standing in front of them puts him at ease. Whether it's their easy smiles or their relaxed stances, he's not sure, but he finds himself smiling back at them, his nerves at meeting them suddenly gone.

"Captain Jones tells us you're the best navigator in the navy," the King comments.

"He is," Liam interjects with pride.

Killian can feel himself blushing. "Thank you, Your Highness. I'll do my best to keep us on course."

"I'm sure you will," the Queen replies. "Now, where has Emma gotten off to? You'll have to excuse our daughter, Lieutenant, she's not much for ceremony and she's been very excited to see the new flagship."

The King and Queen break apart but Killian notices the way their hands find each other as they turn to survey the deck. It's easy to see why their love is a thing of legend, the way their fingers link together so naturally. That one action is enough to make it obvious that they are of one heart.

"There she is," the King says.

Pulling himself out of this fanciful thoughts, he looks in the direction the King has indicated and, the moment he does, sparks ignite all through his body, racing through his veins and exploding outward, making his skin feel like it comes to life, each and every pore tingling with sensation.

She's standing at the bow, bent over the rail to inspect the side of the ship. As he watches, she straightens and turns, looking up to the sails with a glowing smile. When he sees her face, his heart vaults in his chest, smacking into his ribs and taking his breath away.

Making her way along the port side, she runs her hand over the rail, examining the ship with clear excitement. It's utterly bewitching, the way she seems to float around the deck, moving to the center so she can grab the mast with one hand and swing around it with a chuckle.

When he feels Liam's hand at his chin, pushing it up in a not-so-subtle gesture to let him know he's gawking at her, he shuffles in embarrassment, closing his mouth and shooting his brother a quick glance, only to see Liam holding back a smile.

The embarrassment is immediately replaced with terror in the next second, though, when her father gains her attention and she starts toward them, his lungs so tight that he has to remind himself to breathe. He doesn't want to make a complete fool of himself and he's suddenly sure that's exactly what's going to happen. But he's never seen anything like her. She's beautiful and graceful, and he would swear the sun shines brighter as she approaches.

"Father, she's incredible!" the Princess exclaims, linking her arm through the King's free one. "I can't wait to see how she sails."

Her father gives her an indulgent smile and kisses her on the forehead.

"She's the fastest ship on the ocean, Your Majesty," Liam tells her, "We'll have you to the christening in no time."

The princess smiles broadly at Liam as she replies, "I'm sure you will, Captain, but let's not go too fast, if you don't mind. I love being on the water, so if it takes a little longer to get home than it does to get there, you won't be getting complaints from me."

Liam bows. "As the Princess wishes."

Killian isn't sure how everyone is acting so normal when his world has just been flipped on its ear. He's not sure how it is that they can't hear how hard his heart is pounding, but it seems as if they don't since none of them are staring at him like he's a madman.

In fact, Queen Snow is smiling fondly at him as she introduces him to her daughter. "Emma, this is Lieutenant Killian Jones, the Captain's brother and navigator."

Killian's heart stops entirely as the Princess's eyes fall on him but, by some miracle, he manages to get his voice to sound normal when he bows. "It's a pleasure, Your Highness."

She doesn't respond right away and he's suddenly afraid he's made some critical social faux pas. But when he straightens, she meets his gaze with a wavering smile.

"The pleasure is all mine, Lieutenant," she says in breathy voice.

The moment freezes as their eyes meet, time ceasing to exist, and he feels an unexplainable certainty that his life has just changed forever. He's not sure how long he stares at her, it could have been a heartbeat or an hour before Liam's voice breaks through the haze.

"Shall we set sail?" he asks.

"Absolutely," the King replies. "We'll just get out of your way, go below and see to our rooms. Emma?"

"I'll be right down," she replies, turning to kiss her father on the cheek.

The Royal Couple walks away but Killian is barely aware. He can't seem to take his eyes off the Princess, and it crosses his mind as the King and Queen descend into the hatch that he should probably have bowed or inclined his head or something, but he can't make himself care at the moment because the Princess is watching him, her eyes locked to his.

Once her parents have disappeared from view, she takes a step toward him. "As navigator, perhaps you're the one I should be entreating to prolong this trip, Lieutenant," she says in a conspiratorial tone, "Do you think I could persuade you to get us a little lost on the way home?"

"I'm fairly certain your parents would consider that bad form, Your Majesty," he replies, his voice cracking so badly that he has to cough to clear it.

"Ah, well, that's alright," she says, and he swears even her voice is mesmerizing, settling over him like a warm blanket. "I wouldn't want you to put your position in jeopardy on my account, anyway. I suppose I'll just hope for unfavorable tides to prolong my time aboard."

Killian nods in response, thinking desperately of something to say, and comes up with nothing. The Princess doesn't seem to notice, thank the heavens, continuing on as though he's not standing before her in an utter stupor.

"I should probably go find my parents," she says with a tinge of regret. But before she turns away she pauses, flashing him a small smile and adding, "I look forward to speaking with you again, Lieutenant."

His lungs expand inside his chest at that smile, making it even more difficult to breathe. Searching for his illusive voice, he manages to stutter out the reply, "I am at your service, Your Highness," which makes her smile widen. He tries to smile back but he's honestly not sure whether he manages it before she walks away. She glances back to him one more time as she descends into the ship, her long blonde hair floating on the breeze in a way that makes his hands itch to know if it feels as soft as it looks.

As soon as she has disappeared, someone claps him hard on the back, knocking him back into reality with a jolt.

It's Liam and he's leaning close to his ear. "Breathe, little brother," he says with amusement lacing his voice.

Okay, so apparently someone did notice his reaction…

Attempting to save face, Killian turns to Liam and rolls his eyes. "Younger brother," he mumbles.

Liam only laughs.

.

He opens his eyes as the memory fades, looking to the spot where Liam had been standing that day. The way he'd turned to go up to the helm, the way he'd grinned mischievously at him every chance he got for the rest of the afternoon. He might have been a right git from time to time but he was the most supportive brother anyone could have ever asked for.

A sound to his left draws his attention as Dopey approaches with a basket of fruit. Nodding thanks, he reaches in and chooses a pear but before he can raise it to his lips, Dopey stops him. Puzzled, Killian looks over to see Dopey holding up a second pear. Before Killian has time to ask what's going on, Dopey points to his chest and then to Emma, holding the pear higher.

Killian shakes his head. "You should take it to her, mate. I'm not sure she wants to talk to me right now."

Dopey raises an eyebrow and presses his lips together, telling him that he thinks he's being ridiculous, but lowers the fruit and looks over to Emma as though considering going himself. Then he shakes his head, answering his own question, and raises the pear to Killian again as if to say, "No, you do it."

"It's not a good idea, mate," he tries to tell him but Dopey's mind is made up, determinedly pushing the pear into his chest, forcing Killian to take it just to keep the dwarf from bruising him. Then, without hesitation, the dwarf gives him a hefty push toward the bow to get him moving.

Reluctantly, Killian goes, but half-way across the deck he hesitates. When he turns, Dopey is standing on the steps leading to the helm with his arms crossed over his chest. The little dwarf rolls his eyes heavenward, points at him and then to Emma, his stubborn stance making it clear that Killian is not going to get a respite from this.

Resigned, Killian starts toward Emma again, stepping carefully so as not to startle her. He's still a few feet behind her when she speaks, her voice floating on the wind to his ears.

"I've always loved the ocean, you know," she says thoughtfully, "Even before I met you I was fascinated by it, the way it can be so calm in one moment and so turbulent in the next. It's a lot like life that way, I think."

"Yes, it is," Killian replies quietly, going to stand beside her and offering her the fruit. She takes one without comment and lifts it to her mouth for a bite.

They stand there, side by side, staring out at the waves as they eat. It's a comfortable silence, the only sound the occasional crunch that accompanies each bite. They're standing less than a foot apart and, as the ship bobs gently on the waves, he feels an unexpected calm settle over him. A glance to Emma tells him she might be feeling it, too, her eyes closed on a long inhale of the salty breeze while she chews.

He hadn't expected her to look so serene and he wonders what she's been contemplating for the past couple of hours. He doesn't ask, though, because, whatever conclusion she's come to about killing that knight, he doesn't want to make her relive it.

He still remembers with complete clarity the first time he had been forced to make that decision. The way it had stayed with him for days, the way he'd questioned himself over and over again, going back and forth from relief to regret, regret to relief. It had gotten easier over the years but that was only after he'd seen first-hand what Regina's knights are capable of. That was after he'd witnessed their callousness and complete lack of respect for human life a thousand times over.

But Emma hasn't seen what he's seen. Like Ruby said, she doesn't know the lengths the black knights will go to for their queen. So if this is a fleeting moment of serenity between bouts of regret, he's in no rush to bring the regret back.

Besides, this is a welcome respite from their own constant battling. In fact, he realizes with a jolt, this may be the longest they've been in each other's presence without arguing since he found her and he's reluctant to break this delicate peace.

So he waits for her to talk, content to just stand next to her, watching the waves together. There's a school of dolphins off the port bow and the chuckle she makes at their antics brings a smile to his lips.

At long last, she takes a step forward and lobs the pear core into the water. When she steps back, she folds her arms over her chest and, without looking at him, says, "You have a plan to rescue Grace, I assume."

She says it not in question but in confidence, like she already knows he does. "Aye," he replies tossing his own core into the sea, "It shouldn't take long before we get there."

She nods and turns to him. "Do I have a part to play in it?" she asks. "I can help, you know. I want to help Jefferson get his daughter back. My magic – "

"No," he cuts her off gently, "you won't be needing to use your magic. I think we've come up with a solid plan that won't require it."

He sees the argument her eyes and his heart sinks, the fragile peace already broken as she starts to protest, "But – "

"I don't want you collapsing at my feet again, Princess," he tells her, keeping his voice as calm as possible.

"That only happened once," she says with indignation, "Last night, I only got a little light headed!"

Killian sighs at the way she drops her arms to her sides and balls her hands into fists. How they always manage to be at cross-purposes now is so frustrating. He doesn't want to argue with her, he'd come up here wanting to offer comfort and now he realizes he's done the exact opposite.

"Aye," he concedes, keeping his voice even, "but there was only one last night. There will be a dozen today."

"All the more reason – "

"Only as a last resort, Princess."

She gives him a stubborn look and turns her back on him, looking over the starboard bow toward the coastline with a huff.

He wants to shake her. Doesn't she understand the terror he'd felt when she'd collapsed before? He's not willing to risk it. He can't stand to see her hurt, he can't stand the thought of her lying so still in his bed again, pale and barely breathing.

Fisting his hand, he lets out a long breath, his eyes trained on the stubborn set of her shoulders. Damnation, this is just wrong. They're not supposed to be battling each other all the time. They used to be a team, they used to be of one mind, one heart, and now they can't carry on a simple conversation without arguing.

He's just about to retreat and leave her to her thoughts but he glances toward the lower deck and something occurs to him, thinking back to the moment when he'd been pinned to the ground and their eyes had met.

She'd understood from that single look what he'd been thinking… She'd nodded braced herself just before he'd told the Jolly to attack. They might be a broken one, but they're still a team, he realizes. Because, in that moment, when it was their lives on the line, they had been of one mind and one heart.

And later, during the fighting, he'd known she was trying to get to him, he'd felt the spark of magic and knew instinctively that if they were touching, she'd be able to use it.

And she had. She'd used it to save his life… and he hasn't even thanked her yet. He berates himself for that because, dammit, it should have been the first thing he'd said when he'd approached her.

Hoping it's not too late, he takes the two steps that separate them, lining himself up to her back. The sound of his footsteps are drowned out by the crashing waves, but he can tell she knows he's there by the way her shoulders stiffen. She doesn't step away though, instead inhaling a sharp breath just before she lets her shoulders relax, leaning back into him in a tentative way that makes him think maybe she's just as desperate to recapture the peace they'd had a moment ago as he is.

Taking that bit of encouragement, he lays his hand on her arm and shuffles forward, shifting so that his mouth is right next to her ear. "Thank you," he says softly, "for saving my life."

She doesn't answer right away, instead tilting her head slightly to lay her temple on his cheek with a sigh. Then she reaches back to grasp his hooked arm and wraps it around her middle.

Letting his head fall to rest on her shoulder, he breathes her in and hears her take a deep breath in return, one that is filled with relief, just before she replies in a low voice, "Well, I couldn't let that bastard skewer you, now could I?"

Her attempt at humor makes him smile, relishing the way her hair feels against his chin. Tightening his grip around her waist, he runs his hand down her arm and links their fingers together.

"Given recent events, can you blame me for being uncertain?" he replies in a teasing tone.

She chuckles lightly at that and squeezes his hand, bringing his arm up around her waist to rest on top of the other.

They hold that position for several moments, a delicate embrace under the morning sunshine, and when she squeezes his fingers in a desperate grip, he realizes with awed relief that she's letting him comfort her, she's letting him share the burden of last night's events and offering him comfort in return. It makes his heart fill with warmth and he raises his head to rub his nose over her ear. She sways back and forth when he does, melting into his arms and letting her head fall back onto his shoulder while he strokes his thumb over the back of her hand.

"So, tell me about this plan of yours," she requests after a moment.

She doesn't release his hand but, half-way through the explanation, she steps out of his arms and turns to face him, listening intently.

"So, I'll be with you," she comments when he's finished. "That's good, just in case it comes to a 'last resort' situation and I need to use magic."

"Yes, well, that wasn't exactly the reasoning we had but I suppose it's a side benefit."

"What was the reasoning?" she asks with a tilt of her head.

He shrugs. "Since the moon is no longer up, Ruby won't be able to transform. And since I'm the most skilled with a sword, we decided…"

She smiles at that. "You think you're better with a sword than me?" she asks, teasingly.

Inhaling a long breath, he meets her eyes steadily. "I think I'm terrified to let you out of my sight," he admits.

Her eyes soften and a shaky smile spreads at his confession but he turns away because he doesn't want to see that smile fall when he adds, "You know we can't leave any alive, yes? Not only for my sake or yours, but for Jefferson's family."

He waits for her answer with his heart in his throat, staring at the waves.

Her reaction is the last thing he expects, her fingers curling around his from where she is still holding his hand and her cheek coming to rest on the back of his shoulder as she breathes out the words, "I know," in a soft voice.

He closes his eyes in relief that she's not going to fight him on this, feeling the tension in his shoulders drain away. Then she's turning him, gently nudging at his arm. He keeps his eyes closed as he lets her guide him around, terrified of what he might see in her expression.

She doesn't say anything, she just leans into him and tucks her head under his chin.

Tentatively, he returns her embrace, clenching his eyes tighter and draping his arms around her middle. A cocoon of peace forms around them and he breathes deeply, not daring to move for fear of breaking it.

When she lifts her head and brings her fingers to his face, his heartrate skyrockets and, finally, he risks opening his eyes.

Her eyes are sad, the jade green clouded as she studies him, her thumb stroking across his cheek. Slowly, she rises to her toes and brushes a kiss across his lips. It's a soft kiss, gentle in its uncertainty and his already pounding heart feels like it's going to crack a rib with the way it speeds up.

He doesn't make a move to kiss her back, he doesn't move a single muscle, out of fear of ruining this beautiful moment. Then she sinks back down on her heals, her eyes flitting back and forth between his.

"I don't care what you had to do to survive. I'm just glad you're here," she tells him quietly.

The shock he feels must show on his face because she moves her hand from his cheek to run her thumb over his wrinkled brow, smoothing it out. Her eyes follow the movement of her thumb, the soft caress causing his eyes to fall shut in bliss. Soothingly, she glides her fingers back into the hair at his temple, pulling a low moan from his throat.

At her urging, he tilts his head until his forehead rests against hers, something almost reverent in the way their breaths mingle together, a clemency in the way her other hand comes to rest against his heart. He takes comfort in it, years of self-loathing melting away under the tenderness and compassion he feels radiating from her fingers.

When he opens his eyes, she looks at him with a tentative question, her eyes moving to his lips. The answer to that question is by far the easiest he's ever been asked and he leans forward to answer it gently against her mouth, lips smooth and familiar as they slowly rub across each other. He sighs out a breath, his heart settling back into his chest at the way she runs her hand into the hair on the back of his head, her fingers gentle.

They'd shared hundreds of kisses like this one in the past, sweet, reverent kisses surrounded by beautiful meadows and on balconies under the stars. But, somehow, this one is deeper, more meaningful, and a fragile hope springs to his soul that they can get back to what they were.

So he kisses her again, keeping it soft, lips meeting and retreating only to meet again and again… and again. Carefully, he moves his hand to rest on the side of her neck and rubs his thumb over her jaw, a warm sense of tranquility settling in his bones, wiping away anything that isn't her… isn't them.

Time spins out, a dream come to life if ever he's felt one, her hair silky between his fingers, her skin velvet on his thumb. It engulfs him, the taste of her lips and the smell of her hair, and it's only when he hears someone else moving around on the deck that he reluctantly pulls back.

When he does, the look on her face is one he's seen before, her eyes closed and her breathing shaky. She's so bloody beautiful, and it's so impossibly perfect, the way she hums right before she opens her eyes.

There's hope in her eyes, too, when they meet his, unguarded and vulnerable hope that is only amplified by the tears gathering at the edges of them.

"Time to go," she whispers, "Time for Captain Hook to thwart The Evil Queen again."

"Aye," he responds, his voice so thready he almost doesn't hear it himself.