First, I just want to take a moment to thank everyone who's read this story. I'm still having a tough time believing that there are over 500 reviews and 600 people favoriting or following it, and couldn't possibly express how much your kind words and encouragement mean to me. I can only hope to make it all worth your time.

Also, I should probably just say that, from here on out, there's going to be some level of profanity, vulgarity, alcohol use, and consensual sex in almost every chapter, because now that our favorite princess and pirate are intimate, their trysts are pretty much a daily occurrence and while I won't go into minute detail every time, it's fair to assume they're getting it on regularly. Expect a few random references to other fictitious characters. I will continue to warn about anything particularly violent or non-con.

XVII.

Growing up, Emma hadn't taken to all of her royal duties with enthusiasm and grace, but she'd never been a slouch when it came to diplomacy. She had her mother's grace, ingenuity, and beauty; her father's strength, boldness and keen instincts. She could influence almost anyone when the occasion called for it, and though she was more of a realist than her ever-optimistic parents, she had regularly adapted seemingly impossible situations to her advantage.

Leaders came in many varieties. Some were feared. Some were loved. Emma had long ago decided that the best kind were loved by their own people and feared by their enemies. She therefore endeavored to learn how to instill the kind of loyalty that her parents seemed to inspire with ease. Courtiers had proved far easier to handle than pirates, but even still, it was rare for anyone to resist her when she really turned on the charm. It was with that thought that she decided to acquaint herself with Hook's crew, hoping that garnering some good will among the men might help make her time on board less difficult.

There was no question in her mind that her parents would pay her ransom, but the journey to her kingdom would take some time and she was stuck on the ship until Hook got his letter confirming a deal and sailed for her home. She had begun to forget her situation, distracted by the captain and his talents. It was all too easy to imagine herself staying with him, leaving behind her life of pomp and politics, but she needed to be practical. Now that she'd shown them her skill with a blade, it was time to play the role of polite princess.


A few days had passed since the incident with the spice traders when she plopped down next to Starkey as he fished off the side of the ship. It was a calm day, the sails hanging loosely as the late afternoon sun glittered on the water. The older man's blonde hair was sprinkled with silver, his brown eyes surrounded by faint smile lines as he cast again, watching the line for the telltale jumping that indicated the bite of a fish.

"What are you fishing for?" She asked, staring at the point where the line dipped below the water.

"Anything we can eat, though I would think sea bass is the most likely thing in these waters."

"How did you learn?"

"My father taught me. We had a place by the sea, and though we could certainly afford food without it, he always enjoyed bringing home a fresh-caught fish or a pheasant he'd shot." He smiled wistfully, meeting her interested gaze. "I was fortunate enough to grow up in a home of some distinction. I was a younger son, so I enlisted in the Navy to make my name, but I was raised quite well."

He showed her how to bait a hook, and was soon teaching her how to fish as they spoke. She learned that he'd spent about half of his 40ish years at sea, but had bought a home on a warm tropical island where he'd met and married a remarkable younger woman named Lily. He'd actually written to her every day, sending the letters every time he was in port. The last letter he'd been able to send had told her to plan on starting a family, because Emma's dowry had enabled him to retire once he returned home.

Despite her circumstances, she found herself happy for the man who'd thrown away his chances at a respectable life to follow his captain into piracy and would finally have the simple life he'd always dreamt of. They caught enough sea bass to pressure the cook into making a savory chowder, and the crew seemed appreciative of the change in fare. Because she'd been involved, Hook had taken her to the galley to eat beside him amongst the crew, and seemed curious but didn't question her actions. He guided her onto his lap as they drank a few pints of ale with the crew, then carried her into his cabin where he threw her legs over his shoulders and made her beg before giving her the release she always craved.

She lay awake after he'd spent himself across her belly, listening to his steady breathing as she pondered her next mark, eventually slipping into a peaceful sleep beside him.


Ed, the quartermaster, was a tougher nut to crack. Continuously exasperated, he was probably the person most affected by her presence on the ship, seeing as how his job was to manage the crew and keep them under control. She'd asked him if there were any duties that she might assist him with, eventually convincing him to allow her to stitch up the ragged old blankets she found in a scrap heap into far more useful quilts that could be handed out on particularly cold nights. While sewing hadn't been a strength of hers, her skills were sufficient to make patchwork quilts from the existing scraps. She stayed below deck, working on the table in the captain's quarters until she'd successfully turned 15 badly damaged blanket remnants into 6 cozy quilts. The grey and blue colors were a far cry from what she'd used in her quilts back in the castle, but Ed seemed mesmerized nonetheless, cradling the material like something precious as she promised to find more scraps at the next port and make one for every crewmember.

Her efforts didn't go unnoticed by the men, who seemed to appreciate her small gestures, nor by Hook. who watched her with a bemused expression on his face while he steered the ship. Their nightly activities now firmly established, he'd begun to relinquish the helm and indulge himself in an afternoon coupling with her more days than not, though she couldn't bring herself to complain.

One evening, he pulled her away from a pleasant conversation with Smee, caging her in with his arms once they'd reached the cabin and kissing down her neck before moving to pull up her skirts and slide his fingers between her legs.

"Are you some kind of siren?"

"Not that I'm aware of," she panted as he found that perfect spot inside her and began to work his long fingers in and out.

"Mermaid?"

She chuffed. "Nope."

"An enchantress, then. You seem to enjoy bewitching my crew."

"Jealous?"

"Not a bit"

"I just figured it wouldn't hurt to make an effort, at least until my parents reply to your ransom note."

"You're not planning on inciting a mutiny and declaring yourself a pirate queen, are you? Because, although I'd make one hell of a consort, I have no intention of relinquishing my ship to you, your highness."

His fingers brought her over the edge, and he began to maneuver her towards the bed, but looked out the window at the moonless night and seemed to change his mind, settling in a chair and gently encouraging her to drop to her knees and use her mouth. He tipped his head forward to watch, fingers tangling in her hair as she sucked his cock. His groans of pleasure increased as he got closer, urging her on, and he came down her throat with a deep moan, azure eyes boring into her as she cleaned him off.


The men began to show their thanks and acceptance of her in their own small ways. Billy and Mullins taught her poker, then immediately regretted it when her ability to spot a bluff a mile away allowed her to win half of their weekly earnings. She promised to put her skills to good use at their next port, pledging two-thirds of her first winnings to them in thanks. They stopped playing for coins, but continued to play as she honed her skills.

"She's a natural, cap'n!" Billy boasted when Hook sauntered over to watch the game. "I've never seen nothin' like it!" Through the course of the game, Emma learned that Billy had been pressed into service when he was just a lad, and Mullins had taken him under his wing, looking out for the boy much like an older brother would. Their relationship made it easy to follow their new captain into piracy, understanding all too well the depths of his love for Liam and his need for revenge.

One of the newer recruits, a slight man with sandy brown hair and eyes, approached her one morning with a small gift, a carved swan made from a piece of driftwood.

"Oh, wow! Thank you...um,"she trailed off with a bashful grimace, unable to recall his name from the one time they'd met.

"Walsh, your highness. I'm a carpenter, here to help Auggie with the ship, though I'm pulling double duty as the powder monkey for the time being."

"Walsh. It's beautiful."

He smiled sheepishly. "I've heard you referred to as 'Hook's Swan Princess,' and, well, the title seemed fitting." He pressed the figure into her palm, rough hands lingering over hers for a heartbeat before bowing awkwardly and going back to work.

She placed the wooden swan on one of Hook's bookcases, hoping it wouldn't offend him. Whether he noticed or not, he didn't say a word about it when he kissed his way down her body before lifting her to the table and taking her as he stood beside it. "Gods, woman, you are a feast for the eyes," he growled as he watched her breasts bounce with each thrust. His eyes darkened further when she came under him, back arching in her euphoria, and he immediately pulled out, spurting his seed across her breasts. She noticed that he'd been doing that more often, and while he professed to love the way she looked with his pearly release decorating her skin, she began to wonder if she'd done something wrong. He'd wanted her on her knees more of late as well, and she wondered if perhaps there was a humiliation aspect to it all that he enjoyed. Afraid to ask, she let him gather her up and move her relaxed form to the bed, nuzzling her hair as she drifted off to sleep.

When they made landfall at a little port called Smuggler's Cove the next morning, Emma had quite the list of errands she wanted to run. Taking Auggie the easily-distracted but friendly carpenter with her, she promised to meet Hook after he attended to his official business and headed in the direction of the commercial district.

Within a short time, she'd purchased three bottles of fine rum (for Billy and Mullins, courtesy her poker winnings, and a third for Hook). A small fabric shop provided enough woolen remnants for sixteen more quilts in blue, grey and green, as well as red and black pieces to make a larger quilt to match the captain's quarters. Remembering the sweet bars her mother had always taken with them on country rides (a holdover from her bandit days, made from fruits and nuts,) Emma found a grocer who provided her with dates, coconut, almonds and cherries.

Pleased with her provisions, she returned to the ship, having lost Auggie somewhere along the way to drink or women (or, more likely, both. The man really couldn't say no.) Hook was waiting impatiently in the cabin.

"Where the hell were you? And where's August?" He questioned, eyes narrowed.

"August?" she asked, suddenly realizing who he meant. "Oh, Auggie! Gods only know. I ended up leaving him behind."

"Emma," he huffed, running his hand through his hair. "These streets aren't safe for a beautiful woman traveling unaccompanied!"

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Of course, you'll keep me safe, right?"

"I'm a pirate captain with a fierce reputation and a hook for a hand. I may be devilishly handsome, but clearly i'm not to be trifled with."

They met up with the rest of the crew in a tavern, where she perched on Hook's lap and merrily won a fairly large sum from some unsuspecting local sailors (though given how much they were staring at her breasts, she wondered if she should charge them for their view as well.) Hook and his crew joked and gambled, always in good spirits while docked in port, and she began to realize that the freedom that came with a life on the sea had its drawbacks as well. There was a loneliness to them, a desperation to enjoy a fresh meal, a comfortable bed, and the company of a woman while they could.

Hook found himself unable to stare at any of the other women, so captivated by Emma's beauty and vivacious spirit that all others faded into the background. Her every movement fascinated him: the occasional giggle when she had a particularly good hand of cards, the rebellious blonde hair she continuously tamed by tucking it behind her ears, and most especially the way she idly played with his hook as she drank, stroking it sensually with her hand as she shared his rum. She wiggled a bit, earning a groan from him in the process, and shot him a flirtatious smile before returning to her cards. In response, he pressed himself against her, chuckling when she sputtered into her cup. "Don't forget who you're dealing with, love," he spoke against her ear, thrusting subtly under her. "Come back with me to the ship." She nibbled at her lower lip, smiling wickedly as she arched against him. "I thought you'd never ask."

Stumbling back together, he spun her into a narrow alley, letting her push him against the hard brick facade and kiss the living hell out of him while he worked at the ties of her bodice and her hands struggled to open his pants. He eventually hauled her into his arms, carrying her bridal style onto the ship, dismissing her protests with a playful, "I've carried rum barrels heavier than you!" He set her down and followed her below deck more eagerly than he'd ever admit.


Hook woke at daybreak yet again the next morning, annoyed with himself at the fact that even a decade after leaving the service of the Royal Navy, his eyes still snapped open as the sun rose more mornings than not. He imagined Liam would be proud in a way, that some habits were nearly impossible to give up, but the thought descended on him like a black cloud, his private amusement turning to bitterness as he thought of the man he'd once called his captain- and his brother. Liam wouldn't think anything of his rising, he mused, because Liam was gone.

No, not gone. Dead.

Even if he were alive, pride would be the last thing he'd feel looking at what his little brother had become. Even if he could understand the decision to turn pirate- doubtful, to be sure, Killian's actions would be unforgivable. The years of murder, theft, whoring, cheating and lying would make his brother's stomach churn, though he'd happily go to the gallows if it meant Liam were alive and able to apprehend him. The beautiful woman in his arms sighed and nestled closer to his chest in her sleep, and he could just about hear Liam's booming voice chastising him for what he'd done to her. No matter how much she'd enjoyed herself (and their second go last night had been completely her initiating, thank you very much) Liam would point out the obvious: kidnapped, threatened, ravished by a pirate... He was ruining the poor girl's life and thoroughly enjoying every minute. She'd eventually return home, because she would want more from life and love for a woman was a luxury Hook had long since realized he would never feel again. When she did finally leave, it would be with her honor in tatters, physically and emotionally used and discarded with little more fanfare than a prostitute in the eyes of many. In many ways, Liam would be right, too.

But Liam was dead, and that bright eyed lieutenant who'd followed him was dead too, died twice over already when those he'd loved had perished before their times. He'd long since accepted this. Good, honest Liam was dead while their waste of a father lived on, and Hook had eventually recognized that looking out for himself above all else was the only way to make sure he survived. Perhaps his selfishness prevented him from a happier end to his life, but his last chance at lasting happiness had died 8 years ago. He'd done his mourning, and now would chase whatever fleeting pleasures he could until his day came and his body was committed to the sea just as hers had been.

Emma stirred again beside him, and he roughly palmed her arse, letting the familiar and comforting ache of lust sizzle through his loins and chase away his brother, his Milah, his past. He couldn't bring them back, but he could bury the pain in the princess's tight little cunt. He rolled her onto her back, hand reaching between her thighs to ready her, his actions rousing her from her peaceful slumber.

"Ow, Hook, be gentle," she groaned tiredly. "I'm still a little sore from last night."

The use of his moniker rather than his name irked him; she usually called him Killian when crying out in pleasure, and right now he didn't need the reminder that she was here because she was his captive. "Hook? What happened to 'ooh gods, Killian, don't stop?'" he whispered in her ear.

She scrubbed her hand over her face, jade eyes opening to stare up at him in confusion. "What's gotten into you?"

"I don't recall having to justify my needs being part of our deal," he growled. "Now are you going to fuck me, or am I keeping you around for nothing?"

Her eyes stared into his, seeming to recognize the anguish hiding in their blue depths. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her, then licked her hand and reached between them, coating his cock with enough lubrication to slip into her. "Go ahead. You can fuck me."

He began to take her hard, pushing deep into her in quick, stunted thrusts that were clearly meant to bring him orgasm as quickly as possible as he grunted into her shoulder. Realizing her own pleasure was nowhere near his goal, she curled her legs around his hips, pulling him deeper and arching her back as she panted under him. She didn't know what had brought on this behavior, but it was more than obvious that he was using her to chase away whatever thoughts or nightmares were disturbing him, and though she should probably fight him and refuse to be used in such a way, she found herself wanting to offer him whatever small comfort she could, even if it was a few moments of blissful escape while he buried his cock in her. After all, he'd done the same for her just a few nights before. "Tell me what you need."

He growled, grabbing her thigh and lifting her leg to his shoulder so he could go even deeper. Gods, she wished he'd given her the chance to catch up to him, because he felt so good like this, even if her body wasn't ready to come yet. She kissed his shoulder, nipping gently at the skin as he lowered her leg and flipped her over before laying on top of her and continuing to furiously fuck her.

He wasn't talking to her, but his grunts, groans, and stuttered breaths made it more than obvious that he was enjoying himself. Pushing her hips back, she met each forceful thrust, throwing herself into the effort. She felt his head dip, his forehead resting against the back of her shoulder as he slowed, breathing heavy against her neck as he shook silently. "Gods, Emma, I'm, I'm so sorry..."

"Shhh. Don't stop," she whispered, reaching over her shoulder to card her fingers through his thick hair. "It's ok. Use me." She heard his shocked inhale close beside her ear, his lips ghosting over her neck as he began to slide in and out again, slower this time, circling his hips in a way that made her moan.

"You magnificent woman," he murmured affectionately, his left arm shifting to take the brunt of his weight as his right hand began wandering her body, playing at her breasts, wrapping around her hips to give him access to her clit. Her back arched as he rubbed at the sensitive nub.

"You don't have to," she started.

"I want to feel you come," he growled. "Do you like fucking me?"

"You know I do," she whispered, her voice trembling as he brought her closer. "Gods, Killian. I'm going to..."

He was so close, the heat of her scorching as she pulsed around him, and he began to pull out when her hand gripped his hair. "No, please, I want you to do it inside me."

Even of he had wanted to avoid coming inside her, it was too late; her words pushed him over the edge, his climax shooting through him as he let her walls milk him dry while she moaned under him. It felt so fucking good, and his hips instinctively drove his cock as deep as possible as he emptied himself.

Moments after he'd finished, reality had sunk back in, and he groaned against her shoulder in regret. "Fuck. Fuck, Emma, I shouldn't have done that."

"Hmmmm?" She answered, sleepy satisfaction in her voice. "You didn't hurt me."

"Not that lass. I shouldn't have finished like that. I won't be the one to put a bastard in your belly."

She looked at him, finally understanding his recent actions.

"I guess they don't exactly teach highborn ladies how to avoid getting pregnant while still doing their duty in the marriage bed. The more heirs, the better, I assume." He shook his head, drawing her into his side. "There's no guarantee, but given your cycle, so long as I don't finish inside you during the new moon, you're unlikely to end up with child."

"Oh. Oh, gods, I thought you were angry."

"Of course not. I just want to avoid certain situations. Gods know what would happen to a pirate's bastard at the hands of a royal family."

"You think I'd let someone harm my child?"

"I don't think you'd have much choice. They wouldn't let you birth it much less keep it."

"Of course I'd keep it if I wanted to. What kind of people do you think my parents are?"

"My experiences with royalty have not been as pleasant as yours. I think they're a king and queen who would put the well-being of their dynasty over the happiness of their wayward daughter and a child born out of wedlock."

"Wayward? You did this to me!"

He sighed. "Aye. I did."

They lay in silence, lost in their own thoughts until she spoke, "You're probably right though. Once you sell my back to my parents, I'll return to my kingdom and never see you again. I'd hate to have to make up some story to tell my son about how his father isn't around because he died a great hero, knowing it would be a lie."

"Your son?"

She shrugged.

He tried not to picture her with a dark-haired lad on her hip, he really did, but once the image had taken hold, he couldn't help himself. She would be a fine mother one day, and the kind of wife a man could never tire of. It was a life he'd never have, but whatever prince she ended up with, he would be a lucky man.

He placed a kiss to her hair, unaware that the same image of a boy with blue eyes and black hair was playing in her mind. "Go back to sleep, love. It's far too early to be awake."

"Says the man who woke me up to fuck me."

"Fair enough," he chuckled softly as she yawned beside him.

"Tell me a story."

"What kind of story?"

"A nice one," she responded, snuggling further into his side,"to help me get back to sleep."

"There aren't a lot of nice pirate stories."

"Then make one up."

He thought briefly, smiling when he realized the perfect tale, though a part of him hesitated to tell her. "Alright, I actually do know one." He kissed her hair again, "But it's the only happy one I know, even if it is true. Buttercup was raised on a small farm in the country of Florin. Her favorite pastimes were riding her horse and tormenting the poor farm boy who worked there. His name was Westley, but she never called him that..."