chapter ten ~ plots and plans and tangled webs
Unfortunately, as the dawning hours lightened the sky and morning fully broke in the woods outside of Storybrooke, the sun rose to warm the secluded retreat Emma and Killian had found and allowed themselves a moment to indulge within. It had been a fragment of time - a snapshot that Emma hoped to store away in her mind's eye against the darkness that might well stretch ahead of them - that made her feel bonded to the man who stretched and sat up to rifle through the tangled covers, seeking one large enough to wrap around himself and maintain his dignity until they could sneak back to his ship for new clothes not destroyed by forced transformation.
Emma couldn't help reaching out to pinch playfully at the warm skin of his hip, even as she lingered reluctantly within sheets wrapped around her own form. She had to bite her bottom lip to forestall the attraction rising within her at the sight he made, even draped ridiculously in some old, unraveling brown blanket. There was barely an ounce of fat on his sculpted, darkly furred body, barely enough skin loose for her to grab, but she managed, and then squealed and rolled away when his eyes flashed and he dove after her for retaliation.
A low growl rumbled through his chest and thrummed against her palms and fingers as she braced her hands on his chest. Though he rolled her onto her back, covering her with his muscled body and kissing her thoroughly - nearly devouring her mouth like the animal he was - Killian didn't push further, as if silently knowing and acknowledging that it was time for them to return to the rest of the world. Her heart swelled just that much more with affection for him that he didn't question her, try to guilt or persuade her otherwise, but though he clearly felt the fires of attraction building between them once more, he also seemed to understand the need to check on her boy, see that he and her parents were alright, and to see that she had not left any of her responsibilities too long. That he would accept and honor her needs, without her even having to explain had Emma staring at him in awed amazement as he lingered above her.
Reaching up, she smoothed her hands over his scruffy cheeks, cradling his widely grinning face between her palms until he leaned down quickly to peck a kiss to her nose and roll off her and away, chuckling at her moan of frustration just as she'd been ready to pull him in and deepen the kiss, her resolve to get them moving almost forgotten in the magnetic pull he held over her.
Her own tiny (and much more human) growl of frustrated lust at the sheer playful humor on his face did not seem to faze him in the slightest. "Come, Love, rise and shine," he urged with entirely too much cheer for the hour. The rugged, handsome man whom she had first taken for dark, brooding, and perhaps even a bit dangerous, now looked almost boyish as he winked at her from across the room, tossing first her jeans, then her socks and bra from where they'd strewn them over the floor the previous night, then once more wrapped the blanket almost toga-like around as much of himself as possible. "After all, I know it can't be helped, but I'd prefer to get across town and aboard my ship before too many are out to see me like this."
He gestured down at himself in the ridiculous get-up. It was the best they had at hand to preserve some bit of his modesty, but she had to giggle at his rather sad attire all the same, simply couldn't help herself. "It is perfectly laughable," she added, unable to resist teasing. "Not exactly befitting a pirate captain or a fearsome lone wolf either one."
She had shimmied into her own jeans as she spoke, listening to him splutter indignantly at her jab as she pulled on her socks and reached around herself trying to refasten the strap of her undergarment. Somewhere in the midst of her actions, Killian had stilled, watching her with his mouth almost agape until he finally gathered himself, waggled those heavy, dark brows salaciously, and asked, while swiping his tongue over his lower lip for effect, "Need some help there, Swan?"
It was at that point she finally managed to clasp the bra together once more and stood, slipping her sweater down over her head as she did so. "Yeah, right," she snarked. "I don't think so. We start that again, and we won't get where we're going 'til noon."
"More's the pity, Deputy," he murmured lowly, eyes tracking her every move hungrily. Emma for her part, was just noticing the size and darkness of the love bite he had left at the juncture of her neck and shoulder and wondering ruefully as she pulled at the collar of her top if it rose high enough to hide the mark from her curious and eagle-eyed son. "Really?" she huffed in exasperation at him with her hands on her hips.
"Sorry?" he offered, not looking one ounce repentant as he studied her, gaze more than a bit possessively proud of his handiwork. She couldn't even be that angry with him. She'd thought him nearly dead already when she burst into the clearing to find Gold standing over him, a silver bullet in him and more cuts of the deadly metal littering his body, paralyzed and about to have his heart stolen. That she had somehow stopped their powerfully magical nemesis, that he was healed and well again, and that they had forged this trust, this bond, between them - one she'd not been sure she was capable of forming with anyone - well, it was enough to make her forgive him his overzealous behavior. Truth be told, she felt more than a bit possessive of him herself.
Shaking her head she slipped into her boots and led the way out the door. "Come on, you ruffian, let's get you some clothes."
He laughed right along with her, but upon reaching the door, he opened it for her and caught her gaze with a much more serious one of his own. "Be that as it may, Emma," he whispered, brushing the back of his forefinger down her cheek, light as the flutter of a butterfly wing. "You had just one thing wrong before."
"Oh yeah?" she asked breathlessly. "What's that?"
"I'm not a lone wolf," he vowed, earnest devotion in his eyes and tone absolute, "not anymore."
As it turned out, they did make it to Killian's ship without too much interference or embarrassment. They did run into a wide-eyed Leroy on the pier with his early morning fishing catch, but an only half-teasing threat to gut him like the fish he had in hand had the town's unofficial crier scuttling off at a pace hasty enough to make Emma pretty sure it was one rumor that the dwarf wasn't going to spread.
Before long, Killian was clothed, with only a minimum of kissing and touching in between, and they were off toward Main Street and her parents' apartment. Emma found that the closer they got, the more she began to pull ahead, anxious to see Henry and have him meet Killian. She was so excited that it took her several minutes to realize that Killian was falling behind and almost slowing down.
"What is it, Babe?" she asked, turning to look at him curiously, the endearment slipping out without thought, then blushing until she saw by the lightening of his face that he didn't mind a bit.
"Nothing," he hedged quickly, "I mean, not really...nothing serious. It's just - are you sure you want me to come? Want me around your boy? Will your parents even allow me in their home? Things have been moving pretty quickly so far, there hasn't been time to speak of it… but they're royalty, and I'm...well...I'm hardly prince material," he finished ashamedly.
Emma was already opening her mouth to argue when a loud "pop" sounded just behind her, whipping her attention back in that direction as Mr. Gold appeared before them, but not as she had ever seen him before - full out covered in a glittering sheen not unlike scales over his skin, his hide appearing almost as disturbingly leathery as his strange garb clearly not from modern day Maine, and nothing like the suits he'd worn in his guise as mild mannered pawn shop owner. "I'd listen to him, Dearie," the freakish apparition of a man cackled at her almost giddily, "Keep company with such as him, and you'll wind up getting hurt."
Emma didn't know what she'd done to send the man sprawling in the forest any more than she did what she was doing still, but she squared her shoulders and faced the Dark One, bared in his true guise, head on. Never one to back down from a fight, she was even more determined not to see Killian harmed any further, never mind that she had no doubt he could more than defend himself in a fair fight instead of an ambush. Her hands raised in defense, she didn't back away, merely watched the imp as he glowered at her smugly, not trusting him to drop her guard for even a second.
She could feel Killian at her back, a sturdy, comforting presence and his warmth steadying the quivering fear in her stomach that she couldn't dismiss as easily as she schooled her facial features. His large hand pressed at the small of her back was a calming weight, grounding and reassuring her that he was there at her side as clearly as if he had spoken those very words aloud.
Drawing in a fortifying breath Emma savored the feeling of a true partner facing their foe with her, and breathed out in a voice that sounded surprisingly unafraid. "Thanks for your concern," she shot back, letting him know she was well aware of just how false his solicitude was, "but I think I'm capable of choosing my own company."
"Suit yourself," Rumplestiltskin shrugged, sounding worrying unperturbed either way. "I merely thought to offer you an out... Some assurances, if you will…" He paused a moment, as if thinking she might suddenly change her mind. "No matter," he continued, one of those high-pitched, grating giggles leaving him when she didn't jump at his proffered deal. "I'll admit you took me by surprise, Miss Swan. Raw and untrained as it is, your light magic is staggering. However, if I can't entice you to my side, make no mistake, I will be ready for you next time. Don't expect to get so fortunate a second time." His gaze then flicked to Killian just next to her. "And you… Your time is coming at long last, cur. You'll get your retribution - not here, not right now, but soon. You will lose everything you've gained, mark my words."
And with that dark threat and a dramatic flip of his wrist, he was gone as instantaneously as he had appeared. Emma deflated with a whoosh of breath, and fell back against Killian's chest where he easily caught and cradled her tightly.
"You were brilliant, Love," Killian whispered against her temple fervently, making her shiver in both relief and pleasure. "Bloody amazing. He isn't sure he can beat you, doesn't understand your power, and so he's holding back, as cowardly as he always was."
She nodded at her companion's words, sure he was quite probably right and trying to draw some assurance from that. But she knew the stalemate would not last forever; Rumplestiltskin would come for them, Cora and Regina with him most likely, in their quest to wrest Henry from her, and she had just begun to ask Killian what happened then, when pounding footsteps reached her ears and she saw her father, mother, and son nearing them at a run, clearly alarmed and having seen the face off with the Dark One. The worry and fear already radiating from them had Emma tabling the discussion she needed to have with Killian for later. In the next instant, Henry plowed into her, nearly knocking her backward and arms flinging around her waist. Her mom wasn't far behind, simply wrapping both her daughter and grandson within her shaking arms.
"Emma!" she exclaimed breathlessly, "Are you alright?!"
Emma nodded against her mother's shoulder, a bit squished between she and Henry's intense ministrations, but still managing to rub her boy's back in what she hoped was a soothing pattern, even as she allowed herself to be comforted by the sort of maternal support she'd wished for countless times growing up but never had until now.
Finally, when Snow backed off slightly and released her, and Henry relaxed a bit as well, Emma drew in enough breath to answer steadily, "Yes, we're fine, I think," before David sandwiched her in his strong arms, having clearly tried to wait his turn, but no longer able to hold back.
His large hand cradled the back of her head securely as he rocked them slightly from side to side. "Thank heaven above," he murmured thickly before finally making himself let go and take a step back. "We were heading to meet you and saw Rumple appear right in front of you both. I was so afraid he'd strike you down before we could reach you."
Emma shook her head at that, looking to Killian briefly, who gave her a gentle, bolstering nod in return. She ignored the fact that her father's large hand was trembling slightly where it squeezed hers, not quite ready to process that he cared for her that much, that he had been shaken to his very bones in fear for her safety. "He didn't do anything," she assured, trying to project a calm she didn't quite feel yet in the hopes of spreading it to her rattled loved ones. "Just a lot of useless posturing and empty threats. Trying to keep us scared, no doubt."
Her father opened his mouth to caution or argue her seeming unconcern with his experience in dealing with the Dark One, but Killian beat him to the punch, voice still smooth and lilting but wary when he spoke, resting his hand on her forearm as he did so. "I wouldn't be so certain about that, Swan. Unfortunately, though it might seem like nothing now, the Crocodile rarely makes empty threats. His taunting was clearly a prelude to some move on his part."
David nodded his solemn assent to the other man's statement, the closeness of Killian's body to his daughter's, nor the supportive physical contact she was allowing him, not going unnoticed but being put aside for the larger issues at hand.
"Great!" she exhaled in frustration, throwing her arms up and letting them fall back against her sides. "So what are we supposed to do? How are we supposed to be ready for it?" She looked from her "wolf man" (secretly loving the little nickname that popped into her head even as she bit back her smile and tried to retain focus) to her parents and back in quick succession. "Has anyone seen Regina or her mother yet? Could we get any clues from what they're up to?"
Her mother shook her head remorsefully, knowing that her answer was far from what Emma was hoping to hear. "I'm afraid we haven't, Sweetie. They're still lying low, which I know is not helpful at all, but at least no more damage has been done." Her dark-eyed gaze flew to Killian quickly and a small smile dimpled her full, pretty cheeks so much like her daughter's. "Glad to see that you've recovered nicely," she added to the man who had clearly captured her daughter's affection.
The sentiment did Killian's heart good, despite whatever other doubts and concerns might have been swirling inside his chest and all around them. It certainly was not full parental approval of their lost princess daughter dating a lycanthropic pirate, but the glimmer in the royal's eyes reminded Killian that, if memory served, Snow White had at one time survived as a bandit and graced 'Wanted' posters as much as any pirate. Perhaps he had more of a chance to win them over than he had first assumed.
"Aye, milady," he replied to Snow with a small bob of his head, "Thanks to your daughter."
Snow looked at him sweetly, her face practically beaming, and he wondered if there were not something else she yet wished to say; however, before he could question further, or anyone else could speak, Henry broke in hopefully. "I don't want to think my other mom would still be plotting to hurt you all, but ...I ...I know she might. Maybe we could try to check in at the library? Belle was anxious to learn all she could about everything and everyone she'd known back in your world, and I know she really wanted to understand what Mr. Gold was after. She might have turned up something about what they want. If she hasn't, well, maybe we can?"
His last words rose questioningly, and Emma, who had already hugged him closer at his troubled admission that he hated to consider the woman who had raised him as a villain, now pulled back just enough to look down at him encouragingly and grant his request. "That sounds like as good a plan to start with as any, Kid," she said, her affection for her son clear even in the understated tone of her voice. "Plus, I probably ought to check in with Graham, and I wonder if we might not find him there too."
With those words, she shot a conspiratorial wink at the other adults, but Henry giggled right along with her as they set off for the clock tower which housed the town library beneath. When they all looked to him in surprise, Henry shrugged. "What?" he countered, "I'm eleven, not blind! Sheriff Graham's been really looking out for her. I think he likes her."
The wide, mischievous grin on Henry's face made Emma laugh heartily as she ruffled his hair and followed his scampering steps with a bit more spring in her own. Yes, there was still danger afoot, and they needed to figure out their three villains' game before they could spring a trap, but she suddenly felt more hopeful about the whole thing. Henry would tell her that in every story, no matter the odds, good always won out in the end. All she said aloud was, "You know, Henry, I think you're probably right," and followed him on through the square. For once, with her family and a man she rapidly felt she was growing to love on either side, she was willing to summon some belief and hope.
Even as Emma and her posse were making their way across town, Graham and Belle were indeed ensconced at a large, heavy oak table in the quiet back corner of the library. At their research since dawn when the Sheriff had met his petite brunette friend with two to-go cups - his coffee and hers hot tea - and two chocolate croissants from Granny's in hand at the front door to the library as she arrived to unlock it for the day, they had been huddled in the reference section undisturbed for several hours, surrounded by census charts, town records, fairy tale and folklore compendiums, anything that might either help Belle, or Graham (he realized his own hope rather ruefully) to remember any clue or rumor that either of them might have seen or heard in all their forced time in the Evil Queen's fortress or Rumple's Dark Castle. Knowing Rumple had always been a bit of a collector of magical totems and powerful objects, Belle had also been compiling a list of any such treasures mentioned in the resources, wondering if an item such as that might be what either Rumple or these two of his most dangerous proteges might hope to obtain.
Though neither of them had turned up anything definitively helpful yet, they were still up to their elbows in old books, piled all around them on the table and even in various stacks at their feet beside it. Belle couldn't help but feel safe and shielded somehow by the sheer mass of volumes surrounding her, remembering with a shudder the bare walls, empty room with merely a cot and thin blanket that she had spent 28 years inhabiting in some sort of mindless haze, and the unknown stretch of time she'd spent wasting away in the lonely tower of the Evil Queen's design with maybe one book hidden away when the man now studiously reading at her side could manage it. The fact that she could be surrounded by shelves and shelves of them to read to her heart's content seemed like nearly unfathomable wealth after such a long deprivation.
Of course, she reasoned with another lingering sidelong glance at the man beside her, Graham Humbert might also have more than a little to do with the pervading sense of safety she felt. Granted, he did not practice magic, nor was he indestructible or infallible, but she felt protected, sheltered and cared for in his presence, in a way she had not truly experienced since she was a very small child.
All of a sudden overcome with a swell of gratitude and affection for her long lost friend, Belle reached across the table, winding her slender arm through the perilously stacked tomes to take his hand in hers from where it had rested on the page before him. Graham looked up, mouth slightly agape in surprise, his head tilting curiously as his eyes cleared from the concentrated focus they'd held while he read. "What is it, Belle?" he asked, even as he gathered her hand more securely in his own, linking their fingers and squeezing with a light, reassuring pressure, before bringing their joined hands up to his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of hers almost bashfully, not meeting her eyes as he did so, but instead focusing on their fingers twined together.
Belle's breath caught at the gesture, innocent and sweet, and yet bold between the two of them, speaking of more than polite concern for one of his townsfolk or friendly remembrance of their former acquaintance. It did steal the air from her lungs for a moment; a simple, bare gesture, and yet she couldn't remember ever being so affected by a touch before, the press of his soft lips feeling as though it were imprinted on her delicate skin.
Trying to suck in enough oxygen to speak, she blinked several times before managing to stutter, "N-nothing's wrong. I just...just wanted to say I'm glad you're here with me. It makes...all of this...easier somehow."
She stopped there, not sure how to continue as her feelings seemed to escape expression in words. Regardless, Graham beamed at her beautifically, his eyes widening in a guilelessly joyful way that made the years of curse and entrapment seem to melt from his features and cause him to bear an impossibly youthful glow. "You don't know what that means to me," he breathed, voice little more than a pleased whisper in the quiet library nook. "And for the first time in ages, I can actually feel it. It's exactly the same for me… being near you."
On the verge of scooting closer and placing her other hand over his heart, both to assure herself that it was beating as hard as hers was, and to assert that they would both feel so much more from now on if she had anything to say about it, Belle was halted when a swirling pillar of purple smoke appeared in the room over Graham's shoulder. She lurched backwards, immediately on her guard, and her sudden movement and wide-eyed wariness alerted Graham to turn and face it as well, just as Cora and Regina both stepped from the cloud of magic dramatically. Clearly having already taken stock of the situation, frighteningly matching cruel smiles stretched across both women's faces.
The elder Mills sorceress stalked forward with the air of a noblewoman looking as if she owned the room, completely unconcerned with their definite lack of welcome. Graham shifted with quick agility to stand between the cold blooded woman and Belle, causing his friends to feel her heart swell with his selflessness even as she huffed in exasperation. She didn't want him hurt any more than she wanted to suffer herself.
Tsking and shaking her head at their naive show of resistance to her assumed superiority and powerful magic, the Queen of Hearts looked almost amused by the gesture. Speaking for the first time with false demurity, she noted, "You're both fortunate I'm not Rumplestiltskin after that little scene I just witnessed." Her sharp gaze zeroed in on Graham. "If I had been him, you would already be dead where you stand."
Reaching out a gloved hand, she brushed it down his whiskered cheek, trailing along his jaw and neck down to his chest with entirely too much familiarity. Though Graham didn't back away or cry out, Belle could feel how stiff his body had gone in an effort not to shrink or show fear. His hand still in hers was trembling, and Belle's stomach turned in nausea at the woman's gall, and the very thought of him enduring even one more unwanted touch in an effort to protect her.
Darting around him, she drew up every bit of height and presence she could muster, forcing the older woman back at least a step. "Leave him alone!" she spat, eyes flashing in a way most who only knew her gentler nature would have found hard to imagine. "You and your despicable daughter have hurt him enough!"
Cora actually tittered in dangerous humor at her outburst, raising a deceptively elegant hand for some no doubt paralyzing strike, when Regina's dry voice froze them all as she stepped forward to stand at her mother's side. "Enough, Mother," she demanded. "You know what we seek. The bookworm may know where he keeps it. You're the one who taught me to keep my eyes on the goal, remember?"
Though Cora did not look pleased, she did withdraw; her desire to reconcile and please her grown child obviously overriding her sadistic nature for the moment.
Not backing down in the slightest, nor willing to be cowed by this woman who had caused so much suffering in both she and Graham's lives, no matter how foolhardy it might be, Belle turned her harsh words on Regina. "And if you think I'll do anything to help you, you're into for a rude awakening."
Regina practically simpered at her, not discouraged in the slightest. Graham pulled her back against his chest, as if remembering what the woman before them was capable of and urging Belle away from the flames before she was consumed. Shaking her head in disappointment, as if they were the ones in the wrong, Regina merely warned, "Oh no, Dear, I don't think so. We're just getting started."