Nothing noncon or violent in this chapter... but you might hate me anyway. Try to trust me, please.

I just have to acknowledge all of you amazing people who have been reading this fic. Somehow, my smutty little tale of a pirate and his princess has gotten nearly a thousand followers, and hundreds of favorites and reviews. I am completely blown away by this fact every single time I get an email from ff letting me know someone took the time to leave a review, fave or follow. Thank you, truly, for your support.

Lastly, if you want to ask me questions or tell at me or harass me to write faster, feel free to look on my tumblr onceuponataarna, where I tend to mention my progress periodically.

XXIII.

Emma closed her eyes tightly as the carriage pulled away, refusing to shed tears and unable to watch Hook and his beloved Jolly Roger fade into the distance without crying. She felt guilty, like she should be rejoicing; she was free again, and about to be reunited with the family she had dearly missed during her time at sea. Even so, she already felt like she'd left more than her tiara on that ship, and wondered if Hook knew just how much she'd grown to care for him. It didn't matter in the end, she supposed, because even if he sold the bauble and was back to his debaucherous ways within the week, she would always know that she'd given him the freedom to have whatever life he wished. It was something she knew she'd probably never have.

Her thoughts instantly went to Leo, and the fear lodged in the pit of her stomach roared to life again. She'd tried so hard not to fixate on why she was returning home, knowing that worrying wouldn't change the outcome or make the ship sail faster, but now that she would be learning her brother's fate in just a few hours, she could barely take it. Leaving Hook to return home had been the only decision she could make. She needed to see her little brother, and if the worst should happen- she shook her head, brushing aside the possibility. Her mother would tell her that she had to hold out hope.

The carriage bounced over the gravelly road, a sensation that felt so odd after months of the soothing motion of the waves. She had once taken all of it for granted, but now every sweetly chirping bird or errant woodland creature seemed like a revelation. The fresh fragrance of pine needles and moss filled the dense forest air, the smell making her feel even more at home than she'd expected. She had forgotten just how beautiful Sylvania was during the warm summer months.

Her thoughts were interrupted when her carriage finally pulled up to the castle, and she raced into the main entrance, looking about frantically. Suddenly, she saw him, skinny legs carrying his tiny frame down the hall as he sprinted towards her, smiling like a fool. She caught her little brother in her arms, allowing the momentum of his body to carry them both to the floor and burying her cheek against his dark hair.

"Emma!" He exclaimed. "I can't believe that you're really home!"

Tears coursed down her face as she held him close. Gods, he looked just as healthy as ever, though she swore he'd had a another growth spurt. "Of course I am, Leo" she whispered against his hair. "I'd heard you were sick and came as soon as I could."

His sparkling green eyes met hers. "I thought you were a hostage on a pirate ship. At least, that's what I overheard them saying..."

"Hostage is probably a bit of an overstatement. Guest might be more accurate. I was Captain Hook's guest. But enough about me. I need to know, are you alright?" Her eyes searched his frame for any hidden sign of illness.

"Yeah, Em, I'm fine. Really, healthy as ever," he shrugged at her concerned face, obviously wanting to return the conversation to its earlier topic. "So, anyway, what was he like?"

She shook her head, laughing. He was still such a boy. "Captain Hook?" His enthusiastic nod was answer enough. "He was different from what I'd expected. Good to me, believe it or not. He can be a true gentleman when he wants to be. He's smart and clever, brave to the point of foolishness at times." She lowered her voice. "And don't tell dad, but he's almost as charming as he is!"

Leo curled his legs under his gangly body, settling on the carpet beside her. "What did you do all that time? Did you go to any pirate bars? How many ships did he sink?"

His enthusiastic expression made her smile. "Only one, kid. Sorry to disappoint. He actually doesn't need to use violence most of the time. His name is usually more than enough." She waggled her eyebrows, doing her best impression of his cocky attitude.

Leo seemed to ponder that, obviously expecting more excitement. "Did he steal anything valuable?"

Only my body and heart she thought, knowing that wasn't an answer she could give. "Lots. My whole dowry, for one."

That seemed to appease him, and just as she anticipated a new barrage of questions, she heard a booming voice behind her. "And we're less than pleased about that, though truthfully, we're just glad you're home."

She turned abruptly, meeting the watery eyes of her parents. Her mother was holding onto her father's arm so tightly that her knuckles had gone white, her chin trembling. "Emma," she breathed out, reaching for her and enfolding her in a tight embrace. She felt her father's arms wrap around them, his strong hand on the back of her head.

"Mom. Dad. I missed you." She felt Leo join the hug, and for a brief moment, let herself forget all about her adventures and just enjoy being surrounded by those who loved her.


Upon moving to the sitting room for a proper conversation, she told her parents the story of her time aboard the pirate ship and why she'd returned, making sure to leave certain details out. It was obvious from her father's pinched brow and her mother's frown that they had read between the lines, but thankfully they were waiting to broach the subject until Leo was out of earshot. She learned that her brother had, in fact, gotten a rather nasty case of the flu, but his illness had been brief, and he was fully recovered. Although she was overjoyed to find him alive and well and her family was over the moon at her return, the rumors of her brother's impending death had clearly been an exaggeration.

Of course, to Leo, her time with the fearsome pirate captain seemed like a story out of one of his adventure novels, and while her parents were nothing but concerned that she'd been irreparably scarred by the situation, her brother seemed downright jealous. His grumbles of complaint when their parents made him leave the room were indication enough that he'd undoubtedly be pursuing her with more questions.

"So," her mother said gently, "pirates?"

"Leo seems to think it sounded exciting."

Her father scoffed. "Captain Hook's prone to violence, impulsive, and has a hook for a hand. What about him would a 10 year old boy not like?"

Snow glared at David's sarcastic comment, turning her attention back to her daughter. "Emma, sweetheart, I need to ask you: did he hurt you? You seem fairly unharmed but I need to know, please."

"No, mom. He really didn't. I promise."

"Thank the gods." Snow breathed, though Emma could feel that her questions weren't finished. "That being said, am I correct to assume that you're no longer a maid?"

Emma felt her cheeks go hot, knowing that her blush gave the answer away.

"Oh Emma." Tears swam in the dark-haired woman's eyes as she clutched her daughter's hand.

"It wasn't like that mom, I swear. He didn't force me." Snow's disbelieving stare made it obvious that her mom wasn't convinced, and David's face had turned a rather alarming shade of red. "Really. I'm sorry, I know you're probably angry, and think I'm no better than a common whore, but I wanted to be with him. I- I think I fell in love with him, mom." Her strong facade broke as she collapsed into her mother's arms, sobbing.

"Shhhhh. Shhh. It's alright sweetheart. I'm not upset, and you could never be common in any way. I'm just so happy you're home."

"But the wedding, and the alliance with Neal..."

"Is a matter for another day," her father reassured. "I'm just glad that we found out what kind of man he really is before you were married to him. It'll be alright, sweetheart. You're home now."


A month passed uneventfully, and she tried desperately to return to the life she'd once lived. Still, as she sat beside her parents in the throne room and presided over matters of state, she knew that the princess they'd received back was not the same woman who'd left. The once-familiar routine felt empty and restrictive now that she'd had a taste of freedom, and everything from the uncomfortable, cumbersome gowns to the elaborate hairstyles to the seven course banquets felt foreign. She played the part well, smiling at visiting dignitaries and dancing with noblemen, but she found no joy in it.

She was more than aware of the rumors, too, that swirled around her. Though it had never been confirmed, it was widely assumed that the dastardly Captain Hook had taken her against her will and made her his whore while he held her captive. She was no longer betrothed to Neal, but the fawning young nobles who had once wanted to marry her for political advancement seemed less interested now that they'd be having a pirate's leavings, though she couldn't find herself to care.

While her days were tedious, it was the night that truly left her feeling alone and empty. She dreamt of Hook nearly every night, waking with a start in her cold, cavernous room. She missed him. Her heart ached for him, and her body no less so. She'd held out hope that maybe he'd return to her for a month or so before realizing that, clearly, he didn't feel as she did.

She thought maybe taking another lover would scour his constant presence from her thoughts. Her mother had introduced her to a new knight upon her return, a young man who was in many ways the opposite of Hook physically, with his blonde hair, brown eyes, and a bulkier build, but certainly handsome. She came to learn that this Sir Tristan was an acquaintance of Lancelot's, another knight who'd apparently fallen in love with the wrong woman.

When she approached him, asking him to escort her around the gardens, she was struck by his sincerity and gentleness. She led him into a private grotto before pulling him into her for a passionate kiss, which he returned readily. Breaking for air, Emma sheepishly explained that she was in need of a lover, and was surprised when she saw her own heartbreak mirrored on his dark eyes.

She learned almost immediately that he was both willing and discreet. Flirty conversations and stolen kisses in dark corners became more heated, but though she tried to feel something more for the sweet, handsome warrior, her heart refused to cooperate.

Still, she continued with her course of action, hoping for a few moments of pleasure among the tediousness. Thinking of the mindless ecstasy she'd experienced with Hook, she yanked Tristan into her room by his collar and pushed him towards the bed, pressing her body against him closely enough to feel his hardness through her flimsy nightdress.

She pulled his shirt over his head, fingertips tracing the strong lines of his chest as he fondled her breasts, his hands roving over her silk-covered body with ravenous desire. Slipping their garments off to press their naked skin together, he urged, "Let me pleasure you, my lady."

She lay back and bucked into his mouth when he crawled between her legs, trying to encourage him to touch her the way she liked and ignoring how his touch felt all wrong. He didn't devour her like Hook did, his kisses too tentative and gentle. He didn't grip her hip and pull her closer possessively. When his fingers fumbled as he earnestly struggled to stimulate her properly, she realized that her body was not responding to his touch the way she'd hoped, and she felt herself missing Hook more, not less, with every stroke of his hand. Using her legs to pull him over her, she positioned him at her entrance.

"Are you certain?" He asked as his hips rocked instinctively, sliding his cock through her wetness.

Closing her eyes, she blinked back tears as she thought again of Hook, of how much she wished it could be him between her thighs. Gods, her love for him was still just as strong as ever, but now all it could do was cause her pain. She had actually believed he cared for her, foolish girl that she was, and she would never see him again. He had clearly moved on, and it was time she did the same. Taking a deep breath, she nodded, arching under him and reassuring him, "I'm certain. Please, take me."

He kissed her softly, slowly sliding inside her as he shuddered in pleasure. "My lady," he whispered. "You feel-gods, you feel like paradise."

She bit her lip, rolling her hips to encourage him to move. Tristan didn't cause the same burn and ache as she adjusted to him, but she had known that Hook's cock was unusually large. As the young knight started thrusting, she wrapped her legs around his back, taking him deeper and urging him to pick up the pace.

"Oh gods," he gasped out, moaning as he gave up all pretense and took her hard. It felt- not amazing exactly- but certainly not bad either. She hitched her legs higher, trying to find the right angle as she chased her release, needing to be swept away by it. Reaching down to rub at her clit, she began to feel the first tendrils of that delicious sensation when she heard him moan "Gods, my lady, I'm nearly spent."

"Not in me," she whimpered, clawing at him as all thoughts of her orgasm fled her mind. "Please, don't finish in me."

With a long moan, he abruptly pulled out, spilling himself onto her belly as he jerked himself off. He collapsed onto the bed beside her, attempting to catch his breath. "My apologies," he panted, hand reaching towards the apex of her thighs. "I was overcome. Let me help you?" The look in his dark eyes was surprisingly sad. He may have fucked her, but she could see that, like her, his heart still belonged to another. He wanted her to enjoy it, but only because he was a good man.

"No, I think I'd just like to be alone for a while."

His sympathetic smile was comforting as he cleaned her off and dressed quickly. Pressing a kiss to her hand, he slipped quietly into the hall again, leaving her to ponder the experience alone and annoyingly aroused.

Unsurprisingly, her thoughts were once again plagued by her handsome pirate captain and his talented cock, the unsatisfied ache for more causing her to toss and turn in the empty and expansive bed. Closing her eyes, she could still envision every detail of his impeccable body. She remembered his strong, tattooed back, and the way it tapered to his slim hips and delicious ass. She thought of how the hair on his chest would tickle her nipples when he was on top of her, and how his Hook running over her heated skin would give her goosebumps. She remembered the first time she'd seen his gorgeous cock, how even flaccid it had been a marvel and sent chills down her spine. Oh, and gods, how anticipation had made her nearly mad with desire when she had felt him hard against her thigh.

Her hand crept between her legs, gently teasing a as she imagined how his skillful, calloused fingers would tease her if he were there. She remembered the burn of his beard on her thighs, the hot, wet feeling of his amazing tongue sliding over her, eagerly lapping up her arousal as she writhed under his touch. Her fingers circled and stroked as she pictured how he looked between her legs, messy dark hair and piercing blue eyes watching her fall apart for him. She spread her legs wider, amazed at how much wetter she was just thinking of her pirate, and plunged two fingers inside, rocking her hips to meet her hand's thrusts as she continued to work over the swollen, sensitive bud.

She came with a whimper, fucking herself wildly as she tried to prolong her climax and make it last, but she couldn't do to herself what he had done to her. She could make herself come, and undoubtedly would be doing so to thoughts of him on a nightly basis, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't satisfying.

Gods, how she wanted to hate him. Hook had made good on his promise to ruin her for all other men, and she knew no suitor or lover could ever replace him. She was still his, body and soul.

She wished she'd told him how she felt when she'd still had the chance. They'd never see each other again, and she worried that she would eventually forget the exact shade of his eyes, or the velvety timbre of his voice. For all the complications it would have caused, she found herself wishing he'd gotten her with child, so maybe she'd have a piece of him to cherish in his absence.

Of course, she'd bled with the full moon since returning, so that was nothing more than the silly fantasy of a lovestruck girl. This was her life now, and she needed to accept it.


The day to day monotony continued, every day reminding her of how out-of-place she felt, until she awoke a month or so later to a flurry of activity. From what she gathered, a small fleet of warships had entered the harbor overnight, essentially surrounding the castle. She arrived into the throne room just in time for the ambassador from the nearby Kingdom of Leinster to enter and greet the royal family. He was a thin man, with shrewd dark eyes, greying hair, and a ridiculous moustache that curled at its ends. Giving a low, formal bow, he began his introduction.

"Your majesties, I am Albert, ambassador from the great Kingdom of Leinster and messanger of our beloved King John. Long have the relations between our neighboring nations been strained, but I come with a chance for peace. As you may well be aware, the queen consort died a few years ago, leaving our king both widowed and without an heir. Your daughter has been ill-used of late, but there is no denying that she is still young, beautiful, and possessing the poise and grace befitting a queen." He smirked at her, turning to address her directly as she felt the panic begin to set in. "My lady, His royal highness, King John, seeks to join your houses in marriage and solidify the trust between our kingdoms in the best possible way: with children that will carry on both lines."

Her mouth dropped open, before she remembered her manners and quickly schooled her features into a more appropriate mask of graceful contemplation. John had been a rival of her mother's when they were younger, nearly overtaking Sylvania while Snow was on the run from her stepmother Regina, who had argued her place in the line of succession until the nobility deposed her and Snow could retake the throne. Regina had long ago married a handsome, affable nobleman and moved to a quiet cottage in the county of Sherwood, but the memory of John's ruthlessness was still fresh in the minds of the people. If he'd sent a dozen ships, this proposal was more an offer to avoid war than a romantic proposition.

Her father spoke. "The princess has been through a trying last several months. I will not force her to endure an arranged marriage. Perhaps John would be willing to wait until she has recovered before expecting her to make such an important decision."

He ambassador's eyes twinkled as he shot the king a sly smile. "Oh, you must know, normally he would my lord, but he is most anxious to marry as soon as possible."

King David's cool blue eyes glared icily at the insincere little man, his jaw clenching in barely restrained irritation. "Well, then, you can tell your King that he will simply have to find himself another bride. The Princess Emma is not ..."

"Please, father," she stopped him. "Wait just a moment. After all, this decision is mine, is it not?"

His slack jawed expression was enough to give her momentary silence to ponder her options. She could stay home, with the family who loved her, and risk all out war, or she could marry John, and ensure peace for another generation. Her chance at love had undoubtedly sailed away and was probably somewhere in a tavern, drinking and gambling and fucking the barmaids. She'd tried and failed to feel something for Tristan, so what possible chance did she have of finding happiness? Why would she make her people suffer a war when a marriage to King John would be no more loveless than any other she might eventually agree to?

"I will be your queen, my lord."

"Emma!" Snow exclaimed, unable to keep silent.

The ambassador ignored the outburst, continuing as if her parents had no objections. "Wonderful! Shall we have you married by proxy now, and then have you travel to wed officially around the new moon, in three weeks or so?"

"That would be agreeable."

Saying something about making plans, sending messages, and treaties, the ambassador bowed again and, presumably, moved to return to his ship as Emma rose from her seat and headed towards the nearby corridor. She left the great hall in a daze, walking towards her private rooms as quickly as she could, only slowing when she heard the dainty footsteps of her mother racing after her.

Emma," her mother cried. "What are you doing?"

"Getting married, apparently," she responded as they entered her bedroom, shutting the door abruptly.

"We never wanted this for you!" Snow pleaded, settling beside her daughter on the bed. "Please, reconsider. I don't think you understand. He's a beast, Emma."

All men are beasts she heard in her head, the sudden memory of him unbearably painful and plenty sufficient to solidify her choice. "Mom, I have fallen for two men already, and that was enough," her mother went to respond, but Emma soldiered on. "I know you doubt that I had feelings for Hook, but what I felt was real, and still I left to fulfill my duty to our people. Though the situation is different, what better way to do so than to marry King John and secure peace between Sylvania and Leinster once and for all? I may never love again- at least my marriage can do some good, and once we have children, I'll have their love to brighten my days."

Her mother stroked her hair gently, a sad expression on her usually serene face. "My beautiful little girl. We just got you back and we're going to lose you again."

"You'll never lose me, mom." She smiled reluctantly. "But you know it's the right thing to do. Our people deserve peace. What wouldn't you do to secure it?"

"I wouldn't force you into this marriage. Emma, we will go to war before I allow you to be forced into anything. You know that, right?"

She buried her face in her mother's shoulder, the smell of lilacs that always clung to her dark hair invading her senses and comforting her. "I know. This is my choice."

Snow moved a stray lock of blonde hair from her daughter's face. "You have become a beautiful, smart, amazing woman who I love very much and of whom I could not be more proud. I fear he won't love you the way you deserve."

"No, he won't," she responded quietly. "But I suppose they never do."


She met the ambassador later that day, and said her vows, making her betrothal the King John official. Though she would not be leaving for her new home until the week was out, she had married a man she had never met. A man with a fearsome reputation and a history of "accidents" happening in his presence. She hoped she was strong enough to endure it.

She stared out the window at the sea as she sailed towards John's palace, hoping for sails and a crimson flag to save her from her fate, but the Jolly Roger was nowhere to be seen. It was probably for the best, she thought. Now that she was married, her disappearance would inspire John to invade Sylvania, undoubtedly blaming her family for her disappearance, and she was afraid that her willpower would evaporate the moment she saw those piercing blue eyes again. Of course, the point was moot, as there was no fearsome ship on the horizon. He had forgotten her, it seemed.

She should have known that she was nothing more than another conquest to him.