Ok, so do I need to even warn anyone about drinking or cursing anymore? Also, the sex is consensual, but it gets a little kinky. Other than that... I should probably just say I'm sorry? There's bumpy seas ahead, but this story isn't over yet!

XXII.

Her brother could be dying. He had to tell her. He couldn't deny her the opportunity to see the boy one last time, and if he passed, she would be the crown princess and heir to her parents' kingdom. She'd be queen one day.

She was being ripped from him, just as everyone he'd ever loved had been, only this time, she'd live and love and go on happily without him. Knowing that should have made it hurt less, and yet, in a way , it hurt more.

"Mr. Smee," he beckoned the crewman who'd become his new first mate. "A word."

The stout man scurried to the captain's side, hurriedly straightening the red cap perched atop his head. "Yes, cap'n?"

"I have just heard some rather distressing gossip, and need you to ask around, quietly, and ascertain whether it is indeed true. Go find out if our Swan Princess's brother has fallen ill, and report back within the hour." He saw no reason to hurt her unnecessarily if the rumors seemed false.

Unfortunately, Smee's face when he returned was enough answer even before the man gave his official report. The severity of the illness varied, but the stories were consistent in one regard: the boy was sick.

Throwing back the remains of his mug, he approached his jovial crew, feeling his melancholy permeate the group as he cleared his throat. "Princess," he began. "A word, if you please." She nodded, concern on her face as she followed him outside and back to the ship.

"Are you going to tell me what this is about, or am I expected to guess?" She grumbled at his silence.

He thumbed at his brow, struggling with himself before speaking. "Emma," he began, swallowing thickly. "I heard news of a most distressing nature that concerns you. Your brother has fallen ill. I'm unsure as to the severity of his illness, but there was talk of it being rather serious. I'm so sorry, love."

"What do you mean serious? How serious? Is he dying?"

He sighed quietly. "If the rumors are to be believed, it's possible."

"No," her face fell as his words set in. "It can't be. Leo's just a boy." She buried her face in his chest, an ache settling under her breastbone at the thought of her sweet little brother languishing in his bed. They had been so close, him always following at her heels as she went about her day. Despite her efforts to hold back her sobs, the horrible idea of losing her beloved sibling was just too much. "Are you sure?"

"I sent Smee to determine whether it was an isolated report before coming to you."

She nodded silently, knowing that he would only have burdened her with the information if he believed it true. "You should go to him." Hook's voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.

"What?"

"You should go home and see your brother."

She could barely process what he was saying. Leo was such a charming little man, just like their father, with his easy grin and big blue eyes and had always been so healthy, so full of life. How could he be sick? It was too much. "Hook, I can't just drop by. If I return, they'll never let me leave again." She sighed heavily, wondering if he was just trying to placate her. Did he realize how much her heart was breaking?

"I realize that."

"Then why would you suggest it, when you know that I can't go?"

"Because, if you wish it, I will take you home to your family." She heard him swallow hard. "I know our deal was for you to stay longer, but circumstances have obviously changed."

Her eyes snapped up. "You wouldn't make me wait?"

"Time and tide wait for no man," he said, shaking his head. "Some things cannot be delayed for convenience."

"If I go home, I'll never see you again." She turned away, struggling to come to terms with what all of this new information meant. She wasn't sure what was happening between the handsome pirate and herself, but she wasn't ready for it to be over just yet. Still, she needed to see Leo, needed to know if he was alright.

"No, I don't suppose you will. Still, Emma, it's the right thing. You're a princess, and I'm nothing but a pirate. There's no future for us, darling. You know that." Reaching out to spin her back to him, he cupped her face and met her glassy eyes.

"But, Westley and Buttercup... It could work."

He could hear the desperation in her voice, as she struggled to cling to some semblance of hope. "That was just a story, love, and she was really a farmgirl." He looked down at her tenderly. "You're a princess, a true princess, Emma. I fight and I fuck, but I can never give you the life you deserve. This wandering existence must seem exciting, but it gets tiresome, not having a place to lay your head every day."

She placed her head on his chest, listening to the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. "I could lay my head here. That's all I'd need."

He wondered if she could hear his heart break, because he swore her words had cracked it clean in half. He hadn't realized how much he missed being loved, content to be merely the villainous Captain Hook. But now, with her nestled into his arms, her breathing warm against his skin, he wanted nothing more than to steal her away forever and hoard her like the treasure she most surely was. He wanted to wake up to the sun in her hair, fall asleep to the starlight on her skin. He wanted the warmth of her kiss to thaw out the icy recesses of his black heart and bring beauty back into his life.

He wanted it all, which was the problem. Because nothing he'd ever wanted had worked out well for those he'd loved: not for Liam, not for Milah. Destruction, despair, emptiness and pain he did well, but love, joy? They had never been more than sand slipping through his fingers.

It would destroy her if she stayed, and destroying her would destroy him as well. He couldn't bear it.

"I want to be with you." She swallowed, and added so quietly he barely heard, though the words echoed in his head like a shout. "Don't you care about me at all?"

And that was it. The truth they'd been dancing around for weeks. Even if neither of them was ready to admit it, she loved him, and he her.

"Emma... It doesn't matter. You have to go home."

"Of course it does! It's all that matters! How can I go home after this?"

"You have a life there, Emma! A family!" His voice broke slightly, "A brother who you need to see while you can. You were destined to be a queen. You would be remarkable, a monarch worthy of her title. Go home and rule like you were born to do."

"That's not what I want. Not anymore."

"And what of marriage? Children? Do you want them?"

She stammered. "What...?"

"Because I will not be a father, Emma. I have no interest in breeding, not even with you. Why do you think I've taken precautions to avoid getting you pregnant? A pirate ship is no place for a baby. Can you truly say you could give that up as well?"

"You don't want... Not ever?"

He prepared himself, visions of the dark-haired boy in his dreams leaping to mind as his soul begged him to stop, to tell her the truth, but he soldiered on. It was for the best. "Never. It wouldn't be fair to the child, having a father like me. You stay, and you'll grow to hate me. You'd be forced to watch from afar as your dreams remain unfulfilled, your family crumbles and your people are conquered. Can you truly say that this life would be worth it?"

She knew he was right, of course. If she stayed she'd be abandoning her people, perhaps missing her last chance to see those she loved. If she left, she went where he couldn't follow. Neither option would avoid heartbreak, she realized. "You could come with me?" She asked, knowing it was a ludicrous request but wishing he'd say yes even so.

"Darling, I'm a bloody corsair. The things I've done...even if I wanted to change, it's too late. I'm a wanted man in 5 kingdoms, including your own- or did you forget how this little adventure started? I killed your ship's entire crew! I took your dowry, kidnapped you. Gods, I forced you into my bed, stole your virginity."

"I went willingly. You can't steal something that's been given to you."

He looked almost pained at that, shaking his head. "Doesn't matter. I likely would have taken it if you hadn't. You're like a beacon, drawing me to you like a distant light in an ocean of darkness. But I will snuff out that light if you stay here too long. We both know it. I was a fool to think otherwise. "

She was quiet then, eyes closed and head down turned as she contemplated the predicament before her. "Send word to my family that I'm coming home," she responded, voice resigned and flat. There were a thousand other things she wanted to say, but she knew all too well that there was no point. She'd made her decision, the only one she could make with her brother's health in question, and whether or not her heart was fully in agreement, she would have to live with it.


When the Jolly Roger set off the next morning, heading towards Sylvania, he could sense a change in her demeanor. She seemed to want to squeeze every pleasurable moment from her day, whether she was telling bawdy jokes with Ed, gambling with Smee, drinking with Billy, or practically molesting him at the helm.

He knew that it was grief that had made her so bold. She had started as a prisoner, then become his plaything, but somehow she'd come to enjoy her time on board despite it all. She was no longer the brave but naive virgin, but a woman with desires of her own. Desires she was very much making known, dragging him down to his cabin and losing herself in the pleasure he was only too happy to give her, while he still could.

Their couplings over the next days were rough and frenzied, an uninhibited meeting of sweat-slick bodies that had him hard hours later just thinking about the way she rode him with abandon. She couldn't help but notice the glazed look in his eyes as he was obviously replaying their last romp between the sheets, satisfied that he was just as desperate for her as she was for him.


Stopped overnight in another small port en route to her home, they spent the evening at a tavern, just as they'd always done. He noticed that she was drinking a bit more than usual, but knew all too well the allure of drowning one's sorrows in a mug of rum, and couldn't really judge her, given that he was doing the same. The evening passed quickly in a whirlwind of revelry, the two of them stumbling into the streets near midnight, frantically kissing and pawing at each other in an empty alley.

He loved her like this, tipsy and just as hungry for him as he was for her, letting her lust consume her as she dropped to her knees, mouth engulfing his freed cock as he sagged against the wall.

"Fuck, Emma," he groaned, "if you don't stop I'm apt to take you right here like a dockside slattern."

She pulled off to respond, and he nearly wept at the loss of her sweet mouth around him. "Maybe that's what I want."

"Bloody hell, Princess, I'm trying to be a gentleman," he croaked out as she began to suck again, opening her throat in that unique way to let him slip even deeper. Hips thrusting of their own accord, his willpower wilted in the midsummer heat as her warm mouth drove him to distraction, his need for her winning out as he lifted her into his arms, skirts bunching around her hips as he pressed her against the unforgiving wall. Her arousal was coating her thighs, and he slid home without hesitation.

"Oh gods, you feel so good," she whispered. She wanted to feel every hard inch of him, wanted to enjoy the feeling of it while she could. She didn't know how much longer it would be until they arrived in her kingdom, but two weeks had passed since they'd changed their course, and it was only a matter of time until she was back in the palace. She wanted to make her time with him count. "Harder. Fuck me harder. Pretend I'm nobody." She didn't say what she wanted to say, that if she were nobody, she could stay.

He continued to drive into her, kissing her passionately as he pushed her against the rough brick. "You'll never have anyone like me. Never have anyone fill you so well, or make you come so hard. Every time another takes you, you'll be thinking of me, aching for me."

"And you for me, when you go back to fucking your whores?"

"Every time."

A sad, playful smile graced her lips. "I could tell you I won't marry."

"And I could say I won't bring another woman to my bed." He thrust harder, "but we'd both be lying."

"Then, just as no man will replace you, I'll have to make sure no woman can compare to the memory of me." She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist arching her back to pull him deeper. He was taking her hard, punishing surges of his hips driving his cock deeper with each thrust, and she was riding him just as wildly. "More, Killian. Gods, don't stop."

There was no question that she was getting close, so he changed the angle to grind his pubic bone against her as they fucked, earning a cry of delight as he rubbed against her clit and pushed her over the edge. He pulled out and began to jerk himself off, all too aware of the dark sky and it's implications, only to feel her mouth on him again, sucking vigorously as he helplessly fucked her face in his search for release.

As she sucked, her eyes focused on his face, twisted into a look of pure pleasure that was so painfully handsome in the dim light from the street lamps. Those luminous blue eyes were trained on her every move, his hand fisted in her hair as he finally came in thick bursts down her throat. She had come to love that taste, and the helpless whimper he made as he watched her drink him down. Standing, she grabbed his lapels and crashed her lips to his, pulling him close.

"I'm not done with you yet, Captain," she whispered with a smirk as he gawked at her in lust and surprise.

Leading him back to the privacy of his quarters, she stripped off her dress and climbed onto the bed, bending over to give him a perfect view of her glistening cunny as lust crackled through his veins again. He ran his hook over her curves as he dropped his leather to the floor, leaving a faint pink line on her ivory skin in its wake, then bent down and licked a stripe across her sweet, soaked flesh, making her shiver.

His mouth. Gods, his mouth felt so good. He was practically devouring her, causing the pleasure to build once again as he licked and sucked at her sensitive flesh. She felt his tongue slide backwards to her ass, teasing in much the same way, and she was surprised by how good it felt. He moaned as he worked, tongue swirling and lapping at the place she considered dirtiest, and she wondered what else he had in store for her tonight. "Killian," she moaned, " I need you inside me!" She felt him reposition himself before sliding deep, filling her desperate cunt in one fluid motion that was perfect and not enough all at once. Pushing her hips back against him to take him all the way, she met each surge of his hips, needing to feel him, needing him to make her forget that she would have to leave him soon.

Gods, she was so wet, her lingering arousal from their previous romp in the alley mixing with the new proof of her desire, coating them both. She bent over further, weight settling on her forearms as she stuck her hips further in the air, giving him a whole new set of increasingly dirty thoughts as he stared at the flushed, wet temptation of her ass. Gods, she had a beautiful body, and now that he'd tasted it, all he wanted to do was fuck her tight little ass so badly he could think of nothing else. He wasn't a fool; he knew he was well-endowed and that taking his cock could be a challenge for even the most seasoned whores, but he couldn't help but to want to claim every part of her. Drawing his thumb through the considerable wetness, spread his palm over the rounded flesh and slipped the thick digit inside the tight ring, feeling her freeze and clench up immediately.

"Oh Gods," she cried out. "What are you doing?"

His hips resumed moving in slow, controlled thrusts, his thumb mirroring the motion as he watched her body stretch around him. "I want to fuck your ass, Emma," he said lowly, unbridled desire coloring his tone. "You've given me everything else. Are you going to let me have you here, too?" He briefly pulled his cock out, plunging two fingers into her to coat them before resuming his efforts, then removing his thumb and easing the first finger inside.

She was curious. Perhaps she shouldn't be. What he was proposing was beyond the normal activities of a royal marriage bed. It was the kind of thing no decent woman would do, let alone enjoy, and that knowledge alone made her want to try it, because so much of what he'd done to her had been beyond her expectations. There was something erotic about being dirty, doing things like using her mouth or tasting herself on him when they kissed. It was arousing in a most unexpected way. Just the thought of doing something no other woman at court would admit to even knowing of made her giddy. "You'll go slow?"

She heard him suck a breath between his teeth. "And stop if you ask me to."

"Alright. Just, please, be gentle."

He returned to fucking her, cock sliding deep as he pushed a second finger past the muscular ring in time with his thrusts, urging her to relax her muscles and focus on how full she felt. Bloody hell, he could barely focus, desire and anticipation clouding his mind. His princess had offered to give him everything, and he was going to take it. No fantasy could have prepared him for this.

"I think this is the first time I've ever wished you were kind of small," she laughed awkwardly as she felt him stretch her further, a third finger joining the other two. He seemed to know what he was doing, and she briefly wondered how many women he'd had this way before all other thoughts disappeared as she felt him pull more of her wetness backwards and line himself up. She bit her lip as he pushed inside, the stretch and burn of his cock sliding into her ass almost more than she could take.

Thank gods he'd gotten off once already, because the sweet torture of being buried in her ass would have done him in almost instantly under other circumstances. Part of him couldn't help but be aroused by her trembling, her body obviously struggling to adjust to the intrusion. He spit on his hand, pulling out to coat his cock before sliding back in. "Fuck" he grunted between clenched teeth, forcing himself to hold back. It felt so good, and so delightfully depraved to be having her this way. "Touch yourself." He instructed, keeping his movements slow and gentle as she began to rub at her clit. Once a moan slipped past her lips, he began to move in earnest, sliding deep and pulling out more rapidly. "Fuck, princess. Gods, I can't believe you're letting me do this. Feels so good. So tight."

Her whimpers and moans continued, the pleasurable sensations taking the edge off the pain but not completely erasing it. Despite her discomfort, he was obviously enjoying himself, groaning and whispering dirty things as he plundered her with every thick inch of his cock. How had she allowed this? She should push him off, make him stop, but suddenly his hand was moving her own aside, three fingers sliding into her as he circled her clit with his thumb. "Gods, love, you must feel so full, your pretty cunt stuffed full of my fingers, my cock in your ass. You look so beautiful like this. My proper princess, moaning for me while I fuck her every hole." He rubbed faster over her clit, his calloused thumb teasing pleasure from every stroke. "Gods. You can't imagine how good you look or how this feels. I want you to come for me, princess. I need to feel you come while I'm fucking your ass."

He sounded completely wrecked, making her only want to heed his request more. She did feel full, so full of him that any other man would undoubtedly leave her feeling empty; that thought was enough to send pleasure rippling through her veins, the tension building as she, unbelievably, found herself hurtling towards orgasm.

"Gods, yes," he moaned. "I can feel you. Come for me, Emma. Come for me, my love."

She whined, bucking back against him with each stroke to take every hard inch, wanting all of him inside her. He stilled as she fell apart with a whimper, his deep, anguished moan echoing in the cabin as her muscles clamped down on him and he came hard, filling her with his release. "Oh gods," he panted, catching his breath as he softened and slipped out of her, easing her gently onto the bed as she winced at the slight pain that remained. "Give it a moment, sweetheart. It'll pass." He stroked her hair, sliding behind her to pull her against his chest as she let sleep take her, the last words she heard a whispered, "You are a bloody marvel, Emma. I've never known a woman like you, and don't expect I ever will again."


She rose late, sleeping off her slight hangover and sex-induced exhaustion, and joined him as he steered the ship with a very self-satisfied smirk on his face. Walking gingerly across the deck, she could see from the sudden concern on his face that he assumed he'd damaged her and regretted what they'd done the previous night. Though she was a bit sore, she couldn't say she shared the sentiment. He'd claimed all of her body, heart, and soul now, and the lingering discomfort was merely a reminder of the erotic night they'd shared. He drew his arms around her immediately as she settled beside him at the helm.

"I'm sorry, princess. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Biting her lip, she smiled shyly, not wanting to confess that she'd enjoyed it more than she'd expected. It wasn't as pleasurable as their normal activities, but as an occasional change, it would be a welcome option.

Well, if she were staying, that was. As it stood, it would likely be the one and only time he'd have her that way. "I'm alright. If a thorough fuck sometimes leads to a little soreness, I think I can handle it."

He blinked stupidly at her as she placed a kiss to his cheek and grabbed an apple from his breakfast plate before disappearing back below deck, smiling sadly as she felt his eyes follow her. They were surprisingly well-matched, the pirate and the princess, compatible in and out of bed in so many ways. In another lifetime, she could have been happy sailing the seas beside him, all too aware that any staunch objections he had to staying with any one woman were merely for show at this point. She would have been the exception.


Less than a week later, they neared a port just a day's ride from the castle where she could certainly hire a carriage to take her home. Emma said her goodbyes to the crew, who had somehow become quite fond of her and she of them. Not even Ed was immune, pulling her in for a fierce hug before leaving her and Hook alone for one final time. Night quickly approached, and an eerie calm settled over the cabin as they prepared for bed, stepping around the baskets of her belongings that littered the floor. Soft, affectionate kisses under the black and red patchwork quilt soon became desperate as they barely spoke, letting their bodies say the things that their tongues couldn't bear to articulate. He held her against him like she was his whole world. She wept quietly as he kissed away her tears. They came together slowly, hips moving to the rhythm of the waves against the wooden hull as he finally buried his cock in her welcoming body.

Hours passed, their positions changing until they were nestled on their sides, her leg thrown over his hip as he rocked into her. "Emma," he whispered, once, but apparently thought better of whatever he was going to say, settling instead for a passionate kiss as he laced their fingers. When they finally came undone, together, he stayed inside her, knowing that without her warmth around him, he'd feel cold. She pressed even closer, knowing that without him inside her, she'd feel empty.

Morning came too soon, harsh and unwelcome as they both lay pretending to sleep for a few more blissful moments. Her mind was racing, thoughts of leaving her pirate and seeing her family all in the span of a few hours causing conflicting emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. Gathering her courage, Emma disentangled herself from Hook's grasp and slipped out of bed, sparing a moment to take in his sleep-tousled hair and lazy morning smile before pressing a kiss to his forehead. Rising with a quiet sigh, he dressed silently alongside her and gathered up her few belongings.

He escorted her down the gangplank as she disembarked, handing the baskets to the coachman and paying him the necessary fee before turning back to his princess, their eyes meeting one last time as he brushed a wisp of hair off her forehead, tucking it behind her ear. "Stay with me."

"Come with me."

He closed his eyes, bowing his forehead to rest against hers. "There's not a day will go by that I won't think of you."

"Good," she responded with a fragile smile, tears shining in her eyes. She leaned up, placing one last lingering kiss to his lips. "Goodbye, Killian."

He watched the carriage pull away, focusing on the shiny black lacquer of the roof until he could no longer see it, then turned and climbed back aboard his ship. Upon entering his cabin, he stared at the tiara sitting atop the folded quilt, knowing she'd left it on purpose, and a horrible realization hit him. Though she frequently used his name in fits of passion, she hadn't said goodbye to Hook, but to Killian. For the first time outside of bed, she'd used his name.

And now she was gone. What a fool he was.