Regina was pacing back and forth when her father returned from sending a messenger to the castle.
"Father, what if it was a mistake? If the king and queen are given false hope, only for it to be taken away, it will completely crush them."
"Regina, it will be alright. They understand that you have done everything in your power to find their daughter. Rest your worry, my child. This tragedy may be finally approaching its end."
Regina slowed her breathing and sat down heavily, the events of the last twenty four years weighing downon her heavily.
She had nearly done it. Nearly allowed the dark magic to engulf her completely, but when the Dark Curse had required her to kill her own father years ago she had found the willpower to stop.
For a few days she had thought that perhaps her foray into dark magic would yield no consequences, until she had awoken held against the door of her bedroom by the throat, suspended by magic.
Rumpelstiltskin had been standing before her, angrily clicking his tongue.
"Well, dearie, I had thought we agreed you would send the kingdom far, far, away. The spell that was supposed to bind the king and queen's child to this realm as all else was transported away requires too much magic for me to do the Dark Curse as well."
She had clawed desperately at the invisible force holding her by the throat, and when it suddenly released her she had landed on the floor gasping.
"What do you want with the princess?"
"I have only ever wanted the princess, you daft bint. The king and queen mean nothing to me. They hold no feelings of anger in my heart. It is their daughter. The product of true love. When her magic is activated she will be the most powerful creature in this realm, and if she remains with the royals there will be no way for me to have access to her. Draining her power will leave me unstoppable."
Regina's blood had frozen. The Dark One was already a fearsome enemy of the Enchanted Forest. Him wielding any more power was nearly unthinkable.
His eyes had widened and looked gleeful al of a sudden, and Regina did not have time to scream as he suddenly murmured, "Speaking of draining power…"
He had plunged his hand into her chest, but not with the intention of extracting it. As he held her heart she had heard him mutter a spell in an ancient language she was not versed in. Suddenly her jaw felt as though it was wrenched open, and she saw a wisp of fog, gleaming and shimmering purple trail out of her mouth and into a vial he had produced. When the torture had stopped she felt as though he had drained not only her magic, but her life as well.
He had let out a terrifying cackle and then disappeared, leaving Regina half conscious.
With a heaving effort she'd risen, and felt immense relief when she'd realized he had left just a thread of power in her, as taking it all and killing her would have tainted all of its power.
Battling with herself, Regina had struggled to decide what to do. Rumpelstiltskin would clearly find a way to get to the princess now that he was stronger than ever. But wouldn't this sufficiently act as her revenge? It was only when she envisioned that she and Daniel had been married, happy, far away from all of the evil and had a daughter, how would it feel for that daughter to be wrenched from their grasps?
She had transported herself to the inside of the castle, and when she had landed before the king and queen, shaking and then falling to her knees, the entire room was shocked.
Regina had felt as though she was dying when she had tapped into the miniscule portion of her being that still had magic. She had only managed to croak out, "Protect the princess, the Dark One needs her for something."
She had blacked out at that point, and awoken to find the royals in a state of panic and despair. Immediately after Regina had arrived, the princess had been cloaked in a black fog and then vanished as it had dispersed.
Snow White and Charming had been nearly catatonic. After giving her a few days of rest, they had visited Regina in the infirmary, where she had been nursed back to health. They had forgiven her for her past evils, and had seen that her transporting meant she wanted to change.
Snow White and Regina would never be best friends, but they came to trust one another in the following weeks after the princess's disappearance, as Snow treated Regina with nothing but kindness and confessed that she felt guilty for Daniel's death every day, and as Regina admitted she had almost cast the Dark Curse, only stopping when it required her to kill her father.
Both women were broken.
They had shared a mutual feeling of being out of control; Snow with her daughter having been abducted, and Regina left almost without magic and feeling powerless. They both channeled their frustrations with fate into the task of finding Emma as soon as possible.
Snow was able to summon surrounding sorcerers from the realm to aid in finding her daughter, but they had only been able to identify the spell that had taken her. It was called the Parallel Destinies curse, and it left that whom it was cast on to live a life nearly opposite of how it was supposed to be.
The knowledge did nothing to comfort Snow and Charming, it left them despairing instead. They would have loved their daughter. She would have been raised in a loving, spoiled state, and the idea that she would experience the opposite was torture.
There would be no way to find Princess Emma. Locator spells did not work if the travel was by magic. The curse had the potential to have transported her anywhere in the realm. She could only be found when her own magic was activated, leaving a distinct imprint on the veil of magic that blanketed all of the lands.
Regina had sacrificed the final string of magic her heart contained to construct a pendant that would show when the princess's magic had been accessed. Her subsequent coma had lasted for nearly a month, and the Charmings expressed their endless gratitude.
Regina had moved into a small cottage with her father on the outskirts of the palace, and she and Queen Snow had become something between acquaintances and friends.
Regina's father broke through her racing thoughts when he placed a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking it.
"Honey, it will be alright."
"Daddy, I'm not sure if it will be. I didn't want to place even further worry on Snow and Charming, but something major has to trigger latent magic. Something in the spectrum of the Trues: Despair, Rage, Loss, Hatred, Love. She was sent away to a parallel life. She would have been so happy here, Daddy. Her upbringing must have been some level of hell," she said, breaking off with a choked sob as she thought of the situation she had been a part of.
Her father stepped closer, wrapping her in a hug, and whispered, "I'm not sure if your concerns are justified, Regina. Some of the most damaged of people can love the deepest. It has been twenty four years, perhaps she just needed some time to figure herself out."
Regina nodded said, "I just hope that when the queen and king are reunited with their daughter that circumstances have not made her into a monster."
Emma let out a growling, rumbling snore that forced Killian to smother his laughter in the crook of his elbow. He hadn't heard her snore like that since they had begun sleeping in the same bed. Only a soft crooning occasionally, which had now morphed into a sound he would expect to hear an ogre make, not Emma.
After his laughter subsided, he simply looked at her in wonder. Her hair was a mess and she was tangled in the sheets. His sheets. He could only behold her with awe, his swan. The fact that she was pressed against him, completely revealed and trusting him with her vulnerability was difficult to comprehend. Glancing down at his bare arm with its missing hand, he realized that he had done the same.
None of the crew had seen him without his hook. Sure, the men who had been on board when he lost it had seen it when it was bandaged, but as soon as he had acquired the contraption that could hold the hook in place, none had ever seen him without it from that day on.
But this wonder beside him had accepted it without question as simply part of who he was, as if it wasn't unnatural or grotesque. She had merely trailed her fingers along its end and regarded it with the same exploring curiosity as she had shown his entire body when their clothes had been divested.
He was now showing her the same curiosity. His fingers trailed along her spine, tracing her numerous scars that did nothing to distract from her beauty; if anything it added to her allure, it showed her strength and all that she had survived. Her bandages were loose and he could see the ribs beneath them. He noted thankfully that the discoloration had faded to a dulled yellowing pattern.
His fingers continued tracing nonsensical patterns, and he startled when he heard Emma's whisper of "stop staring at me."
Killian smiled widely as her eyelids fluttered open, showing her gray-blue eyes, cloudy with sleep.
"But lass, why wouldn't I stare at this trophy in my bed? Why just now I was thinking of parading you around up on deck…"
Emma groaned and buried her head closer to his chest, gripping the sheets tightly around her and muttering, "Too bloody early for this, Killian."
Every time she said his name it felt like a pleasant jolt, a reminder that she felt for him in the same way he felt about her. He bowed his head and began pressing light kisses along her jaw line, and she inhaled suddenly, shifting her position to give him better access to her neck. As he reached the spot where her neck met her shoulders he saw the bite mark he had left last night and trailed his tongue along it lazily before continuing his journey to the pulse point right beneath her ear.
He could hear her heavy breathing and in a low voice that he knew sent her insane he breathed, "Too early for what, love?"
In less than a second Killian suddenly found himself flat on his back with Emma sitting on top of his thighs, her hands pinning arms above his head and her face lowered until it was only inches from his.
With wide eyes and an expression of pure shock, he knew he must look ridiculous, but it was moments like this that Killian was fully reminded that the person he was with was just as much a deadly warrior as she was a sleepy, delicate-looking woman. Quickly she leaned down and pecked him on his cheek before sitting back up and releasing his arms, moving so that she was perched upright beside him.
Killian shivered as he felt her fingers ghost around his torso. He watched her hands' path and didn't realize she had spoken until she lightly prodded his ribs.
"Oi, no need to wound me."
She responded with an eye roll he secretly knew he could not get tired of and repeated herself.
"What is this from?"
He looked down and saw that she was tapping her fingertips against a long white scar that stretched across the area just above his left hipbone.
He had to think for a moment. It hadn't been life threatening, only happening to leave its large scar, and it took a minute for him to remember.
"Mermaids. Thought they acted as sweet as they look. They quickly reminded me otherwise when I tried to approach one and she unsheathed her talons. They've all got this one long claw on the underside of their wrists, usually can't see them. The broad made sure I would remember."
He saw Emma's lips trembling as she tried with visible difficulty to hold in her laughter. Her brow was creased with false sympathy, and as he felt her shudder with repressed laughs, he finally sighed and said, "Have at it."
The snorting, cackling laughter that was distinctly Emma bounced from the walls and her chest heaved as she caught her breath, giving him a spectacular view as she was still unclothed and the sheets were only pooled below her waist.
"You – had – your ass handed to you – by a mermaid."
As her cackles quieted an affectionate expression covered her face, a small, bemused smile. She lowered her torso so it was nearly parallel to the bed and met his eyes, saying with a soft voice, "Dumb, arrogant pirate," before pressing her lips softly to the scar, and then repeating the gesture until her lips had covered the entire expanse of skin.
Killian had never been so glad to have the heavy blankets covering him below his hips, as an idea suddenly formed in his head that would have to put his other needs to rest for a while.
"I've an idea, lass. Scar for a scar, story for a story, yeah? Didn't get to fully appreciate all of this creamy skin in the moonlight," he said, smirking and running his hand up her torso, stopping just beneath her breasts.
Emma's eyes became slightly hooded and Killian had to keep himself from taking her immediately as a rasp entered her voice and she murmured, "Captain Hook has probably acquired a fair share of scars throughout his decades, we might have to stay locked up all day."
"Well, Swan, we best get started right away. My turn."
Killian made a show of inspecting her, though he already knew what he was going to ask her about. As she had laid beside him sleeping, he had mapped the expanse of her back, and was incredibly curious about the raised, light pink mark that ran down her right shoulder blade aligned with her spine, stretching about four inches.
When he ran his thumb down it deliberately she shuddered and looked almost shy.
"Gods, of course it would be that one." She blew a small strand of hair out of her face and suddenly an expression of embarrassment covered her face, a visage that seemed entirely foreign to Killian, not one that he had seen her wear often at all.
She met his eyes and said, "Am I allowed a skip?"
His smirk only grew bigger when he realized that he had chosen a mark that carried a humiliating story. "Now lass, how would that be fair?"
She let out a defeated sigh and glared at him with no real anger before taking a breath and muttering, "I was twelve and doing a routine steal – a wealthy woman who was staying in my poor little village carrying an enormous purse. I grabbed it and began to take off, but I didn't take into account that the lady must have been part ogre or giant, because the moment I pulled, she pulled back and I was left empty-handed, incredibly confused, and then running for my life as she chased me wielding my own knife."
Killian felt as though every time she answered one of his questions, dozens more sprung into its place.
"Twelve years old? How long have you been stealing?"
Emma looked off into memories that were hidden to him and she looked wistful as she said, "A while now. I was found wrapped in a blanket that said 'Emma' on the path leading to an orphanage. When I was seven the orphanage had an issue with overcrowding, so they handed out kids to anyone who walked by. When the people who took me in couldn't support me, I ran away. I couldn't go back to the orphanage. So I found a couple of kids a few years older than me who lived together as thieves in a few buildings that had been abandoned when they were rumored to be cursed. Stayed there with them until –" Emma seemed to stop herself, and her voice was more controlled when she said, "until I was thrown in jail at eighteen. After I was let out I lived with friends – who became practically family - for five years. And then the Dark One started his manhunt and I left and wound up here."
Killian nodded to himself. He knew that he and Emma were vastly different people, but they both shared the trait of loathing pity, and a detachment to most past events. Her embarrassed tone had proven that it wasn't a painful memory that required comforting, instead it was one that she would rather he forget as it humiliated the hell out of her.
The revelations regarding her past were just that – in the past. He had noticed her hesitation, and while he was positive she was hiding something, it didn't worry him. The fact that she was in his bed and not stifling her emotions showed that she trusted him as best as she was able, and he was confident that when the time came that she was ready, she would tell him whatever it was that she had repressed.
Instead of commenting, he simply placed his hand between her shoulder blades and pressed down gently, lowering her onto the bed so that she was laying on her stomach beside him. He rose and leaned over her, repeating her earlier action and covering the scarred area with his lips, tracing the puckered line with gentle kisses.
Their morning of storytelling continued on, and Killian learned that Emma should not be trusted near any kind of cooking that involved boiling water, while he had to begrudgingly admit that when he first began wearing his hook he would often times reach to scratch his opposite arm or back mindlessly, resulting in a slew of ruined shirts and lingering white lines on his skin.
She had once rolled off of the roof of a one story shop while sleeping and scraped nearly all of the skin off of her forearm when she had landed.
A piece of glass had been imbedded in his bicep when he was thrown through the window of a bar after drunkenly trying to seduce the bartender's wife in front of said bartender.
She had four bright red parallel lines that marred her calf, and when he had guessed for nearly ten minutes as to what animal it had been, finally settling on wolf, she had only responding, "something like that."
At late morning it was her turn to ask for a scar's story, and Killian knew Emma was up to something when a smirk covered her face, which had been roaming his body.
"How about this one?"
Killian was confused at first, knowing that no scars marred his neck, and it was when she leaned toward and licked the spot that she had been asking about that he remembered she had muffled her cries from the night before into his neck, leaving what must be a very visible love bite.
He immediately felt himself begin to stiffen as she continued to trace her tongue lightly along the path it had already claimed under the darkness of night.
Killian's breathing began to quicken when she laid her palms flat against his chest before letting her hands explore all of his abdomen.
"I seem to recall a certain maiden having left that . Beautiful woman, that one. The lass's eyes had a look about them that really made me want to press her hard against my bed and just fu-" Emma's lips crashing hard onto his quickly silenced his teasing remark, and he felt himself groan as she tossed the covers off of them and then straddled his thighs, one hand tangled in his hair and the other covering his cheek. Her tongue traced his lips and his low groan gave her the opportunity to open his mouth further. She dominated his mouth and he had never felt so turned on in his life. Women often let him ravish them, simply accepting his attentions. Emma seemed to want to devour him whole. Her hunger was a rival to his, and when her mouth broke from his, they were both panting, and his length was throbbing, pressed against her stomach.
Emma sat up taller, and there was only a quick flash of self-consciousness in her eyes before it was replaced by lust and determination as she rasped, "I want to try something, okay?"
Before his mind could even form the words to answer her, she stretched taller on her knees that were pressed on either side of him and grabbed his hardness, guiding it to her core before adjusting her body and sinking down on it.
Killian closed his eyes in bliss but could not contain the loud, almost feral groan that ripped through him as he bucked his hips up automatically. He opened his eyes and was met with a mesmerizing sight, Emma looking down at their joined bodies with a hunger in her eyes as well as curiosity and of course a lust that left Killian feeling as though she was burning through his skin.
Experimentally, she lifted herself up and then plunged down on him once again, grinding against him and letting out a loud, seemingly surprised gasp.
He could barely hear over both of their panting breaths, but Emma met his eyes and looked into his own gaze, groaning, "Oh Gods, so good. So, so good."
He slightly propped himself up on a pillow, gripping her hip hard with his hand and wrapping his other arm around her torso, using his forearm to pull her closer to him and leaning forward to taste her chest, already beginning to lightly gleam with sweat.
Killian heard a growl and loosened his grip, soon finding his arms pinned above his head in a passionate imitation of their position this morning, and he shuddered in pure desire when her lips brushed his ear and her voice asserted lowly, "I believe I said I was the one that would be trying something new."
Keeping his arms pinned with her hands, her torso remained inches from his as she continued to ride him, at first slowly, but then with a rhythm that was nearly frenzied. He felt her thigh muscles begin to shake as her own approaching orgasm left her feeling weak, and he took advantage of her distraction to push himself up into a sitting position. He grabbed her hip once again and began to guide her movements, thrusting against her just as she sunk down on him.
Her eyes were half closed and locked on his, and he was sure she saw a similar expression of approaching ecstasy on his own face. No words were said, and the room echoed with both of their loud, erotic breathy noises and the slap of their bodies colliding. She loosely wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in close to him, nearly pressing her forehead to his. He pressed his lips to hers desperately, and even in the throes of pure, carnal lust he could not reign in the emotion that left him feeling almost strangled.
I'm hers. Gods, I belong to this woman. And she is mine.
Hungry now to see her reach her peak, he released her side from his grasp, pulling his lips away from hers and reaching between them, pressing against her bundle of nerves quickly and mercilessly, causing her breaths to become heavy pants.
Killian felt his stomach begin to tighten and knew he was close to coming. He growled and teased her even more vigorously while leaning forward and whispering against her cheek, "Come for me, Emma."
The result was instantaneous, and Killian made sure to pull back and keep his eyes trained on her face as she lost control, her every muscle seeming to pulsate as he felt her contract around him. She tucked her face under his chin and pressed herself against his chest as she rode out her orgasm.
He could hear her continuing to gasp against him, and when he heard her brokenly murmur, "Gods, oh fuck, Killian, Killian" he let himself come, thrusting into her hard.
As he emptied himself into her, her name repeatedly left his lips like a prayer and he groaned, "Gods Emma, I'm yours."
Both were covered with sweat and tried to slow their breathing. Killian let his torso fall backwards against the bed and whistled softly.
"Damn, lass."
She slowly removed herself from him and collapsed on her back next to him, turning her head to meet his eyes and raising an eyebrow in amusement.
"Back at ya."
The quiet of the cabin allowed for Killian to hear the hustling sound of the men beginning to man the ship once again, and he could hear the thundering echo of the barrels of newly-acquired supplies being rolled on deck and transported into the hold.
This obvious reminder of his duty made him propel himself from his prone position and swing his legs so they hung over the side of the bed. He quickly strapped on his prosthetic and attached the hook firmly in place, humming to himself as he rose from the bed and began to pull on his clothing. He heard rustling from the other side of the bed, and when he was fully outfitted and prepared to go above deck, he turned and saw Emma standing, wearing only the oversized shirt of his that she normally wore to bed, but seeming infinitely sexier knowing she was wearing nothing underneath.
He had to refocus his thoughts and met her eyes, smiling jovially at the prospect of going above deck and seeing his newly-refreshed and relaxed crew, and saying, "Come on Swan, lets get back above deck. You'll be excited to resume your duties on the ship, everyone is much more pleasant after their night of freedom."
He was surprised to see Emma look a little bit surprised, and then to see her eyes narrow in repressed anger.
"So that's it then? Back to crewmember Swan? Just another member of the bloody crew? Fine. Perfect. I'll meet you above deck in five minutes."
Killian was baffled and then felt a twinge of annoyance himself.
"Did I do something to offend you, lass? Why the sudden mulishness?"
He immediately sensed he had said something very, very wrong when her eyes became closed off and her posture stiffened as she turned away. Her voice was flat as she answered, "My apologies, Captain. I misinterpreted our activities last night. It won't happen again."
Killian suddenly realized his error and felt like an ass. He had opened himself up and expressed his feeling for the first time in years, but his sudden nonchalance must seem to her as if he wanted to revert back to their previous relationship, when in fact he desired quite the opposite.
Striding to her side of the room, he gently grasped her shoulder and turned her around, feeling dread at the apathetic look she gave him, completely devoid of any affection or anger. At the moment, he felt himself wishing for her temper for the first time.
"Emma, you did not misinterpret or imagine anything. I meant everything that I said last night. Everything." He looked down at his feet self consciously and continued, "I'm just new – well, actually centuries out of practice – with this whole, uh," he gestured between the two of them, "-thing, and I'm pleading with you to have some patience with me."
He looked up and was incredibly relieved to see her mouth twitching before giving in to a small, amused smile.
"Well, I've never really done this 'whole, uh, thing', so lets just roll with the punches for now, okay? Just don't, you know, don't act like I'm some whore you're going to drop off at the next town." Her voice had trailed off and she looked off to the side to avoid his gaze.
Placing his hook beneath her chin, he lifted her eyes to his, not allowing her to run from whatever feelings she had about their new development.
"You are not just another woman to me, Emma Swan. Do not doubt that."
He pressed his lips gently to hers, and when he stepped back, she had relaxed and the fire in her eyes seemed to have been rekindled. "I'll see you above deck, Killian."
He turned and began to climb the steps, trying to wipe the enormous grin from his face before his men could see him smiling like some infatuated nancy.
As the door was only inches from swinging shut, he suddenly heard Emma's shrill shriek pierce the air and he cringed in fear.
"CENTURIES?"
lovebirds xx reviews are always welcome, let me know what you think.