Chapter 4
There be none of Beauty's daughters with a magic like thee;
And like music on the waters
Is thy sweet voice to me.
When, as if its sound were causing
The charmed ocean's pausing,
The waves lie still and gleaming:
And the hill'd winds seem dreaming.
There be none of beauty's daughters – Lord Byron
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A/N: This story is now rated M, and for a bloody good reason. So… you've been warned ;-)
As usual, endless thanks to the amazing, talented and incredible Hilary for editing this… this was my first time ever writing smut and she made it 100000 times better than what I had written. You rock and I love you so much bby! Thank you for being the most incredible beta ever.
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Emma whirled around to see Killian unconscious on the deck, and flung herself to her knees beside him, a terrible fear suddenly strangling her heart. Her hands darted in frantic search of what was wrong, and that was when she noticed that the wound at his temple – the one she'd given him – was deeper than she'd thought. Much deeper, in fact, and it was bleeding profusely, Killian's face getting paler by the minute.
"Emma, what happened?" Snow's voice was sharp with concern, and Regina and Gold had just arrived to boot. The latter was very obviously not looking at Emma, and just as she was wondering why, the former shot her an extremely pointed stare, and she looked down. Killian's coat was open to reveal her naked body. She'd been so preoccupied with her pirate that she hadn't realized she was flashing everyone. Shit.
"Oh God," she muttered, hastily buttoning it, then turned back to them. "I smashed a mirror on his head down in the cave, when I was still a mermaid. The wound didn't look that bad, I thought he was fine… I guess it reopened when we got out of the water, but this is not enough blood to make him unconscious. Could he be under some kind of curse too?" She looked pleadingly at Gold.
"I don't think so, dearie. Salt water is known to slow bleeding, but it likely started again while you were swimming up from the cave; the exertion surely would have affected him. You should clean the wound and let him rest," Gold declared, but Emma knew he was holding something back. She searched for Killian's pulse and found that it was getting fainter, his breathing so light it was barely even there.
"No! No, he can't die! Oh God, we have to do something!" She glanced desperately from her parents, who looked astonished and sad, to Regina and Gold, who wore respective masks of mild indifference. Then she turned, and realized that the bloody trail led all the way to the reddish water lapping the Jolly Roger's hull.
"Oh God…" Tears began to drip down her face, making her feel helpless, hating it. Then with a start, she remembered how she had saved Henry after he ate the apple turnover, and how Killian's kiss had turned her back into a human. She had to try kissing him again. Love was supposed to be the strongest magic of all.
Not caring that everyone was watching them, she leaned down and brushed a kiss across Killian's lips. She felt the strong surge of magic, but that was it. Nothing happened. He was still bleeding and unconscious.
"Why didn't it work? Why didn't he wake up?" Emma's voice sounded strange to her own ears, more scared than she had ever been in her life.
"True Love's Kiss can only cure magical ailments, Miss Swan. He's not cursed, just wounded. Badly wounded, of course, but the kiss will not help." As Regina's voice filtered through the racket in her head, Emma was surprised to note that it was soft, almost sad. Still, what she had said was not comforting in the least.
"Gold, you cured Belle when Killian shot her. You can do the same for him now, please!" Emma looked up to him again, and was shocked and furious to see the almost maniacal grin forming on his lips.
"Sorry, dearie, but no. I'm afraid that I am not, nor will I ever be, in the state of mind to want to cure the Captain."
Emma shot to her feet so fast that she almost knocked over Snow, who was on her knees as well. "Listen, you bastard! Killian offered his help, and gave up his revenge against you, to help us look for my son, your grandson. So you get into the right state of mind to save him this instant!" Emma's voice had risen sharply, and she felt the unmistakable surge of magic within her, a light golden glow.
Gold glanced toward the prone pirate, then back to her. "You didn't let me finish, Miss Swan. I was going to say that you could heal your dear captain – your magic has gotten stronger, I noticed it the minute you returned. Apparently, the mermaids' curse affected it somehow. Use it now, and you will be able to cure him."
Emma, taken aback, looked down at her hands. The golden glow was waxing stronger, and she got to her knees beside Killian once more. She closed her eyes and moved her hands over his temple, trying to force the magic out.
"You need to stop thinking so much. Magic is based on feeling. Remember how you did it back in my shop when you cast the protection spell," Gold coached from behind her, and she remembered how she had willed all her thoughts into protecting her loved ones from Cora and Regina. She thought about Killian declaring that he loved her, of his kiss in the cave, how her heart felt as if it were on fire after being so cold, and lastly, how would she feel if he died. It was almost too much, but she had to. Had to use it, control it, channel it.
"No, he can't die, he won't! I love him! I need this to work, please…" Emma's thoughts morphed into a strong pulse running through her body, and she felt the warm tingling of magic, imagined Killian smiling at her.
When she looked down again, a golden energy was sparking from her hands, closing his wound. She watched the color returning to his cheeks. And then at last, after what felt like forever, Killian opened his ridiculously blue eyes.
Emma expelled a relieved sob, then crashed her mouth against his in a passionate, desperate kiss; she heard her father's disgusted groan, but didn't care. This was followed by Regina and Gold's footsteps hastily retreating, Regina muttering something about not needing to see that, thank you very much, and then her mother's discreet cough signaling they should stop making such a spectacle. She reluctantly broke the kiss and gazed into Killian's face, that beautiful smile he had worn up on the beanstalk swelling her heart with joy… and love.
"Hey, beautiful," he murmured huskily, and she rolled her eyes, just for the sake of form.
"Okay, you two need to rest now, and Emma needs some clothes. It's almost evening, and we've all had a long few days." Charming's tone brooked no argument, and he looked at Killian with something between annoyance and relief.
For his part, the pirate was almost grateful for Snow's interruption. Emma's kiss had summoned ideas that were hardly appropriate in front of her parents, and without said interruption, he would have had another close encounter with the prince's fist. "Too right, Your Majesty. We are indeed all tired and slightly on edge. Certain recent events have gotten a rise out of us."
Charming apparently chose to let that slide, but still shot a glare at him. Very well. Deciding that if he was in for a penny, he was in for a bloody enjoyable pound, Killian got to his feet and helped Emma up, drawing her into a slow, sensual embrace that caused Charming to huff indignantly. Killian chuckled louder and let her go only when the prince was somewhat purple in the face; he didn't actually want the man to burst a blood vessel and die on his deck. Horrible mess, and Emma wasn't likely to appreciate it. "Darling, you should get some sleep, but you could also use a bath. There's clean water in the cabin at the end of the hall."
Emma punched his arm. "Are you implying I smell bad? Watch it, buddy."
Killian held up his hand and hook in mock surrender. "Already back to wounding me, so soon after patching me up from your last tender attentions? Cruel lass. But as it happens, not at all. I just thought you may want to get the salt water off your lovely skin," he added, with an obviously appreciative glance downward.
"Mate, I'm warning you…"
Charming's menacing tone made Emma roll her eyes and Killian chuckle yet again. He wondered why he was so unwarrantedly happy, then remembered that his True Love had just saved his life, then given him the most amazing kiss they had ever shared (to date, that was). But once more, Snow interrupted. "Emma, Killian is right. I think a bath is a great idea. It would help you sleep better, I'm sure."
Glancing at the pirate, Emma smirked. "Well, I hope there's enough water for both of us, then. I mean, you definitely don't smell of roses either…" The little minx then proceeded to flash him a downright rude wink, and Killian's jaw almost hit the deck as she sashayed away from him. She couldn't have looked more earthy if she tried.
The prince started after his daughter, then stopped and whirled. "You better not get any ideas, mate. I'll be guarding that door while Emma is inside."
"Well, mate, you should know that I am a gentleman, and I wasn't insinuating anything by recommending that bath. I know from experience how uncomfortable it is to be drenched in salt water for an extended period of time. Besides, I have clean water in my own cabin. Her virtue is safe." For now, you interfering bastard.
The prince sized him up one more time, and grudgingly decided to let it go. They all traipsed belowdecks, and Charming joined his wife, who was already standing guard in the direction Emma had taken. Killian rolled his eyes, then headed into his cabin.
He went to the armoire next to the four-poster bed and removed the half-empty bottle of rum, pouring a glass and downing it in a gulp. He undressed and washed with the basin of fresh water, scrutinizing his reflection in the smoky mirror. There was not even a trace of the wound that had disfigured his temple not even an hour before, and he marveled at how incredible his Swan girl was.
He scouted out a clean shirt and a pair of trousers from his trunk, and eyed the smaller chest hidden at the bottom, smiling at the memory of how he and Milah had acquired it. He no longer felt that agonizing pain when thinking about her – how could he, after what had just happened? His experience earlier had been almost unbelievable, but it soothed his soul.
He finished dressing, then opened the small chest and set it down on his bed. This treasure had been part of a loot from one of the many ships they had attacked back then, and it contained many pieces of jewelry, some not yet finished. He fingered the twin set of plain silver rings: one slimmer, designed for a woman, and the other similar to the ones he always wore. He had looked for the perfect stones to set, as he wanted them to wear those rings as a symbol of their love, almost like wedding bands, but he never did find them. Not before Milah was taken from him.
He closed his eyes, replaying the experience he had lived while unconscious, when he thought he had died.
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Killian watched Emma being showered with love by Snow and Charming, and was utterly relieved that he had been able to save her, that she was here once more, and the terrible fate of being a mermaid forever had not come to pass. He was almost frightened by how much he loved her; he hadn't thought he would ever feel like that again. A faint, sweetly painful pang of regret and memory stung his heart, and then he felt a sharper pain at his temple. He brought his hand to it, and pulled it away red with blood. The wound must have reopened when they surfaced.
He started to slip off belowdecks to tend to it, not wanting to interrupt the family reunion, but his vision started to go dark, his steps not quite taking him anywhere. He started to fall, and lost consciousness completely.
He heard Emma calling his name somewhere above him, and tried to tell her that he was all right. But his body felt so heavy, as if it was no longer his, and it was dragging him down while something else was gently pulling him up.
Suddenly a warm peace flooded over him, and he let go. His spirit floated above his body, and he tried to get back to it, but a soft, familiar voice was calling his name. He didn't want to turn towards it, convinced that he was just dreaming… or in that strange soft place between life and death, something some of his crewmen had recalled when they were saved from drowning.
Slowly, he did turn back and then he saw her: Milah. She was as beautiful as he remembered, but her face was more peaceful, her smile happier than he had ever seen it. She called his name again. "Killian."
"Milah? … How? Am I…?" He couldn't finish that sentence. His gaze flicked back to Emma, who was now kissing him. He could feel it. He could feel her. Them both, his brave strong women. Until his heart was like to break with it.
"No, my sweet, you are not dead. It is not your time. Your Emma is going to save you, once more," his old love said, with the utmost tenderness.
"What do you mean, once more?"
"Killian, I was so afraid for so long that you would lose yourself forever. I saw you suffer for so many years with the injustice. I never wanted you to avenge me. Even though my death was violent, my spirit moved on. You made me happier in the few years we were together that I had been in all my life. You respected my choices, gave me adventure and love and home, and consoled me when the grief for leaving my son behind was too much to bear. You even tried to make my wish come true and offer Bae a family when you stumbled across each other in Neverland, and I loved you even more for it. But I always wanted you to find happiness again. To live thinking that your one and only True Love is gone forever and that you have no other chance, is truly terrible. But then you met Emma, the remarkable woman who became so intertwined with both our lives. The mother of my grandson. The savior. From the moment you met her in the Enchanted Forest, I saw the light coming back to your eyes. I was so happy that you had found love again, but you still insisted on pursuing your revenge instead of a new life with her."
Hearing the disappointment in her tone, Killian hung his head, not meeting her eyes. "I was so hurt by her leaving me on that beanstalk. I did feel lighter around her, happier than I had in more than three hundred years, but when she abandoned me, I thought she didn't feel the same. And I was ashamed for having fallen in love with another woman when I hadn't avenged you yet." His voice cracked, and he looked up to her once more.
Her gaze was soft and understanding. "I know, Killian. But Emma was afraid. She had suffered a great deal from rejection; my son hurt her so much thanks to his inability and unwillingness to face his father. She was broken when you met her, just like you. But when you embraced your love for her by going back with that bean, and then offered your help to find Henry, I knew everything was going to be all right. Your soul was saved thanks to her, and your choice to fight for what you always wanted and what you deserve more than anything: a family."
She moved closer, and he felt her warmth – not quite as it was when she was alive, but comforting all the same. "Now you need to go back. As I said, this is not your time. You will find my grandson and be very happy with Emma. You will see the final pieces to the puzzle soon." She smiled again, and began to fade.
"Wait! Milah, what are you talking about? What pieces?"
"Soon enough. It's something you weren't meant to find while you were with me, but just as with everything else in life, when the time was right. I love you, Killian. I always will. Never forget that." Her voice was getting distant, but Killian knew he would finally be able to do the one thing he was denied when she was taken from him.
"I love you too, Milah. You will always be in my heart."
"I know, my darling. Now go live."
She disappeared in a blinding light and the next thing he knew, he was staring at Emma's face again, the brightest smile he had ever seen on her lips, and she was kissing him with such love and passion that his heart melted.
Killian opened his eyes again and looked at the rings in his hand, wondering if they were meant to be a part of the puzzle. Then he heard the doorknob turning, and saw Emma standing there as if summoned from a dream, a light flush gracing her cheeks. He smiled, and moved toward her with a hungry look in his eye.
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Emma closed the door of the cabin where she'd been dispatched, saw a copper tub filled to the brim, and groaned in satisfaction. She stripped off Killian's coat, which still smelled of him despite its prolonged immersion in salt water, and stepped in with a sigh, sinking her whole body into it, trying to relax. She had never thought that she would experience such terror again after Henry literally died on a hospital bed all those months ago, but when she'd seen Killian lying on the deck like that, bloodied and unconscious, she thought her heart had stopped. She was still amazed at having been able to heal his wound, and the happiness she felt when he opened his eyes had been overwhelming. The sudden desire to melt into his skin and savor every inch of him had taken her by surprise as well.
To her consternation, she felt herself growing increasingly aroused as she recalled that kiss. The images she had conjured when she told him that they both needed a bath weren't helping either. She had done that to twist him in the wind a little, make him realize that he wasn't the only one who could fire off a good innuendo, but it had obviously backfired. Now, she felt such desire that she couldn't even think straight.
She had to dull the need somehow – take matters into her own hands, so to speak – and scooped up a bar of soap from the sideboard. She inhaled its mint and cedar scent, so similar to Killian's own, and wondered if he used it too. It was easy to imagine his dark stubble prickling her skin as his lips trailed down the path she was following with her finger. She continued the slow torture until she reached her most sensitive spot, picturing Killian's impossibly blue eyes looking back at hers, tasting, teasing. Her finger was moving frantically, and with a strangled moan, she came, legs shaking with the force of her release. Panting, she opened her eyes and finished washing her now too-sensitive skin, trying to slow her pulse. Then she heard her mother's soft knock, asking what was taking so long.
"Um, I'm almost finished. I just need to get dressed. Can you bring me some clothes from our cabin, please?"
"Sure, honey. Be right back."
Emma willed her breathing to return to normal, and soon heard Snow return. She opened the door just enough to receive the white tank top, jeans and underwear, mumbling a quick thanks before closing it again. She dried herself with a towel, blowing out a long breath, and got dressed quickly. She used her fingers to untangle her hair, then finally opened the door.
Her parents, both of them, were waiting for her. "Emma, is something wrong?"
"No. Nothing." She hardly thought telling them that she was hotter than hell for a certain pirate down the hall would go over very well.
"Let's get something to eat. You must be starving."
"Yeah… you have no idea." Emma muttered it, but Snow gave her a curious look nevertheless.
They ate supper in the galley, then returned to their cabin. Emma crawled under the covers of her cot, trying to convince herself that sleep was what she needed right now. Yes. Sleep. Real sleep. Ordinary sleep. Sleep sleep. Not… sleep.
Right.
She slipped under quickly, but her dreams were lurid, vivid, sweaty. Killian was moving above her with fire in his eyes, setting her skin ablaze, whispering her name like a prayer, telling her how much he loved her.
She started awake abruptly, her skin too hot, the darkness and soft, even breathing around her indicating that the rest of her roommates were out. Good. She quietly got up from the cot and tiptoed to the door, telling herself she just needed to make sure that Killian was doing all right. Then she could get back to sleep.
She reached the captain's quarters, and slowly turning the knob, let herself in.
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"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes, love." Killian's voice was low and husky as he stopped in front of Emma, caressing her flushed cheek. His gaze reflected the desire that she felt.
Emma smiled at him, leaning into the warmth of his palm. She brought her hand to the temple, tracing the spot where his wound had been just a few hours before. "I… I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. Does your head hurt?"
"No, love, it doesn't. But I do have a very different kind of ache right now." Moving still closer, he pressed his hips against hers, and she felt his very obvious arousal low against her belly. Subtlety, thy name was not Killian Jones, but she was long past the desire for subtlety. She wanted to be seduced, taken, won, completed, and sucked in a breath, reveling in his scent, mint and cedar like the soap, with a hint of saltwater and rum. That, his male musk, him, was making her head swim.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered. "When I woke up and saw you smiling back at me, when you kissed me like that… I swear, I would have taken you on the spot if we were alone. I want you, Emma. I can't say it any plainer." He trailed a hot line from her earlobe to her mouth, and sealed it to his in a fiery kiss.
She wanted him too. God, she did. She traced his lower lip with her tongue, seeking entrance, and he complied, starting a dance that had them both gasping. Then he stepped back, led her to his bed, and maneuvered her more or less gallantly onto the quilt, his weight pinning her comfortably beneath him.
They only broke the kiss when the need for air was overwhelming. Emma's green eyes fixed on his blue ones, and she clutched the pouch again. She removed it from her neck and opened it, spilling the two sapphires into her hand.
"You know, these sapphires called to me back at that cave, while I was a mermaid. I didn't understand then, but now I know that something never let me forget about you. They are just like your eyes." Emma showed him the jewels, and Killian kissed her again, then took them from her hand, reaching for the two silver rings.
"Got hold of these a long time ago. Back when Milah was still alive." He sat back on his knees and fitted one of the sapphires inside the mount of the slimmer ring, then used his hook to secure it in place.
"I never found the right stones for these rings. Now I have. You have brought light back into my life, my love, and I never want to be parted from you." He mounted the second stone on the broader ring and looked back into Emma's eyes, his heart beating so loudly that he swore she could hear it. Then he brought her right hand to his lips and slipped the ring onto her fourth finger, kissing it tenderly.
"I love you, Emma. More than I ever thought I could love anyone. This ring is my promise that I'll never leave you while I'm still in this or any world, and while you still want me beside you."
Emma saw his eyes glinting with unshed tears, and took the other ring from him. "I love you too, Killian. I never want you to leave either, and this ring is my promise that I'll never let you." She slid the ring onto his middle finger, between the other ones he wore, where it sparkled brighter than the rest.
Then she brought her lips to his, a slow and passionate kiss that swiftly turned hungry and desperate. She unbuttoned his shirt in double-quick time and tossed it aside, then took a moment to admire his chest – the dark hair, the chiseled hard sailor muscles, all of it turning her blood to fire. It rose and fell sharply, his breathing short and shallow.
He wrapped his arm over her back and started to kiss her again, taking his time. "Are you particularly attached to this piece of clothing, love?" The tip of his hook poised at the neck of the tank top.
"No, wh – "
"Perfect." He ripped it clean through, and chucked the now-useless garment to the floor to join his shirt, eyes roving hungrily over her. "Mother of mercy, lass. You're bloody stunning."
"You're not too bad yourself."
Killian chuckled, kissing the top of each breast, then between them, teasing them with gentle strokes, thumb and forefinger. This elicited a low moan from her that went directly to his nether regions, which by now were very, very interested in getting bloody on with it. He closed his lips over her right nipple, savoring her sweet hot skin, and she thrashed under him. "Killian…"
"What do you want, love? Tell me what you want." His voice was thick with desire, his hand trailing to her waist, waiting for her to agree.
"Oh God, Killian… Please, I want you, I need you now."
"With pleasure, love." He adroitly unbuttoned her jeans, sliding them down her legs, and stopped his delicious assault on her upper half long enough to admire her lower half, clad only in her black lace panties. "I would rip those too, but I think I prefer to keep them. Souvenir of my conquest."
"You're incorrigible."
"Pirate, love," he said with a wink. "And yet you do still love me."
"Yes," she gritted out. "I do. But not if you don't keep going."
With torturous slowness, he lowered his mouth to the black lace, pulling them off with his teeth, which was hands down the hottest thing she had ever seen in her life. Giddy pleasure pulsed through her in waves, turning her hot and cold and lightheaded, and when he finally rid her of the panties, he lifted them to his nose, inhaling her scent. He tucked them into his pocket, then leaned back in, his mouth on hers, thumb rasping at her entrance.
"Killian," she managed. "This is not fair. I'm naked and you're still half-dressed."
"Darling, what on earth makes you think that I play fair? But in this case, you can take care of that. Can't you?"
"You bet your ass, buddy."
"I would love to take that bet." He kissed her. "I win."
"Do you?" It was Emma's turn to give him a playful smirk, and she brought her hands up his thighs, stroking his hardness before undoing the laces of his unusually constricting trousers, pleased with the groan that left his lips. She freed him from the black leather at last, and sucked in a breath at the sight.
"Like what you see?" He had the sheer arrogant swagger that only the man with the perfect, well, everything could have. Bastard. God, she needed him now.
"It's… not bad."
Killian laughed at her obvious understatement, capturing her lips once more. His hand moved low again, teasing her sensitive nub until she was writhing. "Please…"
Never stopping his work, he kissed down her stomach to her thighs, driving her to the brink, and she felt his tongue exploring her slick center, sending wrenching shivers through her like detonations. She was getting closer to her peak, and fisted her hands in his hair. "Killian, I need you. In me. Now. Please."
Moving up, he kissed her again and she tasted herself on his lips. "That can be arranged, love." He poised at her entrance, she arched her hips, and he finally thrust all the way inside her. He stretched her in the most delicious way, his hot, pulsing length fashioning the exact exquisite friction to drive her mad.
After a few moments, he started to move, her legs wrapping around his hips, her breaths and moans taking him almost to inferno. He brought his lips to her pulse point, nipping and sucking at it, marking her. "Mine. Mine. Emma. Mine."
"Oh yes… Killian, oh God. Faster. Faster."
He growled low in his throat, the sound so sensual she almost went over the edge right there, and his thrusts turned erratic, the pressure on that sweet spot inside her making her explode into a thousand colors, spasming. She lost it, and with a hoarse cry he followed, spilling himself inside her. He sprawled on top of her, his face in her neck, ear on her heart, hearing her breathe, hearing her live, his voice thick, broken, a whisper, a promise. "Emma. Emma. I love you. So much."
"I love you too. So much. Killian. Killian."
Their breathing slowly returned to normal. Then he rolled onto his back, sliding out of her. He unsnapped his hook, laid it aside – it had been forgotten in the heat of the moment, but he didn't want to hurt her, never wanted to hurt her – and pulled her close, lips browsing at her temple.
"That was… bloody brilliant," Emma managed at last.
Killian chuckled at her choice of words. "I did warn you, lass. When I jabbed you with my sword, you'd feel it."
Emma laughed, the first honest, unrestrained and purely joyful laugh she had had in what felt like forever. The sound was sweet to Killian's ears, and he felt such love he wondered how could he even try to contain it – not that he wanted to. "You should know that I've never lied to you, love. After the first time we met, that is."
"I know." She kissed him again. "But don't get comfortable."
"Around you?" He pulled the tousled quilts up. "I burn."
Emma tried to say something, but instead, just smiled helplessly. She snuggled closer to him, inhaling their scent, and quickly fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.
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She woke suddenly, a few hours later, still curled against Killian's lean, warm body. She kissed him lightly, and he opened his eyes, instantly alert. "Emma? Still a few more hours before sunrise, lass. Can't you sleep?"
"No, I can't. But I… just realized. I know where Henry is." Her smile was bright, her eyes full of purpose.
"Well, then." He held her gaze. "We will get him back. Together."
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