The Past
In hindsight, when Killian thought about it, perhaps it had been inevitable that he and Ciarra would develop feelings for each other. They had known each other since they were infants, grown up as each other's primary playmates, and been separated for the most awkward time of childhood when one transitions from a child to an adult. As a result, they saw each other as children and then mature adults, rather than forever thinking of the other as an adolescent who hadn't quite grown up enough yet to feel comfortable in his or her own skin. Then, throw in an adventure and some danger, and suddenly a first romance was ready to blossom.
Killian woke up slowly in the morning and watched the sun rise as Ciarra slept. To be fair, perhaps he watched her as much as he watched the sunrise. There was something incredibly breathtaking about watching the early morning light creep gently across her warm, chocolate-coloured skin and illuminate her features. Really, Killian decided, she was a very beautiful woman. Her eyelashes were long, her face round, her features soft. Her lips were thick and velvety, practically begging to be touched and caressed. Her hair was dark and fell in thick waves over her shoulders, surrounding her head like a pillow. Of course, he'd noticed her attractiveness before, but he'd never really thought about pursuing her seriously due to the general tumultuousness of his life. In spite of his age, romance hadn't been a priority when compared to goals such as survival and stealing away Lyanna. Perhaps it had been low on her list of priorities as well, at least until she was forced to face her on mortality. At least this proved that good things could come from near death experiences.
Above all, the thing that Killian appreciated most as he watched Ciarra sleep was her openness. Ciarra had a refreshing honesty about her that was never as clear as when she slept. Emotions flitted across her face as clearly as notes in a melody.
When she finally woke up, her eyes focused on Killian and a soft smile caused dimples to appear in her cheeks.
"Good morning," he murmured.
"You were watching me," she said in reply, stretching luxuriously.
"Perhaps," Killian conceded, eyes darting to the ground in some embarrassment.
"That must have been horrendously dull," she teased sleepily.
"I think it would be difficult to grow bored of something so beautiful," he replied shyly.
Ciarra glanced at him in amusement, although there was pleasure underneath it. "Sycophant. Oh, wait, does this mean that I'm beautiful enough to be a good prostitute after all?" She chattered.
"You would be a wonderful prostitute," agreed Killian, eyes twinkling in merriment. It never ceased to amaze him that Ciarra could say so much so soon after waking. In this case, it was even more amazing, considering she'd been half-dead the day before.
"How are you feeling?" He added, thinking about the previous day with a shudder.
"Wet. This is the last time I sleep in a stream, no matter how thirsty I am. Although my thirst is at least far more quenched than yesterday; perhaps I absorbed the water through my skin while I slept. Is that even possible?"
"I've no idea," he replied honestly.
Ciarra glanced at her friend sideways through her lashes. "To be perfectly honest, though, I may still be too weak to travel today. What would you say to spending the day here?"
Killian pretended to consider this. "Well, I suppose that may be necessary, as unfortunate as it is."
"Very unfortunate," agreed Ciarra, leaning towards him and closing her eyes.
Their lips meant, and they spent the entire morning discovering the ins and outs of kissing. Fortunately, they had both started with some natural skill in that area-
The Present
"I don't believe that for one second," Emma scoffed.
"No?" Killian pretended to be offended. Or, perhaps he was. Emma sometimes found him ridiculously difficult to understand.
"No. First kisses are never any good," Emma affirmed.
"Perhaps not if they're with the wrong partner. However, I gather you speak from experience, and I'm now very curious. Would you care to elaborate?" He prompted with a mischievous grin.
Emma rolled her eyes and sighed, but decided that since he was sharing his past with her so freely, it was only fair to not hold back everything herself.
"It was terrible. Our teeth were clacking together, his tongue was everywhere... I don't know how it's possible to miss lips so completely, but his tongue was pretty much everywhere but my mouth. My chin was wet, my nose was wet, and he just wouldn't stop, you know? It went on and on until I was getting seriously bored and grossed out, and my face was soaked-"
She was cut off by a hearty laugh. Killian had held it in fairly well until the end of her anecdote, but clearly even a "gentleman" had his limits when it came to containing his mirth.
"It sounds like your partner was very eager indeed, not that I could blame him," Killian added with a respectful nod towards her.
Emma's heart fluttered, but, as per usual, she pushed the feeling away and ignored the honesty of his compliment.
"Eager is an understatement. It was disgusting. Anyway, I'm just saying that first kisses are not good," she returned to her point with raised eyebrows, daring Hook to contradict her.
"Well, Swan, I'm afraid to say that your experience does not change my own. We were quite cautious about it and took our time to do it properly, without any of this teeth and face molestation you speak of."
Emma snorted. "That's a great way of putting it: 'face molestation'. But still, I don't believe you."
Killian shrugged, looking very amused and self-satisfied.
"Maybe you've just forgotten how bad it was. Isn't that what happens when you get old?" Emma prodded.
"Oh, Swan, don't let jealousy turn you to petty insults and excuses," he countered.
With a scowl, Emma turned to him. "I am not-"
The Past
"What now?"
Killian spoke up as they were lazing in the noonday sun, feeling the pleasant weight of another body pressed tightly against his.
"Hmm?"
He chuckled, his breath blowing her dark hair gently.
"I asked what you thought we ought to do next," Killian repeated.
Ciarra groaned, burrowing further into his chest. "Oh, let's not talk about unpleasant things now. Not while the sun is shining. We're resting today, remember, and that means resting our thoughts as well."
"But-"
She tilted her head up and cut him off with a languid kiss.
As she pulled away, Killian murmured, "Still-"
Immediately, she pressed her lips against his again.
"Ciarra-"
This time, she pressed a hand over his mouth. "Let's never leave. There's water here and shade. There's probably something edible somewhere. We can hibernate like dragons in caves and give birth to our young and raise them here and never have to worry about anything ever again."
"Doesn't that sound nice," Killian agreed, pulling her hand away from his mouth to place a kiss on her palm.
"I knew I would talk you around," she declared triumphantly, shifting so that she was leaning over him, her hair creating a curtain between their faces and the outside world. For a moment, Killian was too lost staring into the bright smile of Ciarra to respond.
"The most I can do is pretend for the day," he said finally, looking into her large brown eyes intently.
"That's all I want," she conceded, eyes softening and lowering herself down to pepper his face with kisses.
The Present
"Seriously?" Emma muttered.
Killian opened his mouth, eyes all glittering with mischief at the rebuttal he had yet to voice.
"I am not jealous," Emma interrupted, irritated.
The teasing spark disappeared from Killian's eyes as quickly as it had come.
"Aye, I know," he agreed, and Emma felt a momentary twinge of guilt that she quickly pushed away angrily.
The Past
"The only thing that would make this day more perfect," Ciarra declared, "would be an entire roast chicken, with potatoes and beans and carrots and-"
Killian hummed in agreement, cutting her off before she could make him even more hungry. "There seems to be a shortage of those."
With a sigh, Killian stood and broke a branch off of the nearest tree. He pulled back the bark piece by piece to reveal the white insides of the branches.
"Dinner?"
"Oh, thank you, sir," Ciarra said with a mock curtsy, taking the twig from him and biting the rubbery innards.
The Present
"You ate sticks?" Emma scoffed.
"Swan, as I've said before, you've clearly never been starving. Food is clearly never lacking in your realm. However, when there's none to be found, one has to make do."
"But twigs?" She demanded incredulously.
Killian chuckled. "Yes, Swan. Rather tasteless, and peeling back the bark is a bit of a chore, but they'll keep you alive."
From her expression, it must have been obvious that she still didn't believe him, because Killian slowly and painfully hauled himself to his feet. With a flourish, he picked a thin branch from the tree above them and used his hook to scrape away the wood. After a moment of inspection, he passed it to her.
"No, I'm not eating a tree," Emma said stubbornly.
"You don't have to. I'm just showing you that it's edible," Killian explained.
Emma looked at the stick curiously. The white innards that were revealed were scentless and felt a bit like foam. They were also strangely square, although perhaps that was just because of the way Killian had scraped away the bark. In spite of her better sense, Emma finally bit off a small piece of the thin white substance. It took her a moment to chew - it was more or less like chewing a half-cooked noodle - but she managed to swallow it.
"It really does taste like nothing," Emma agreed. "You lived on this?"
"For weeks," Killian agreed, looking at the stick distastefully. Apparently, two hundred years wasn't long enough to get over weeks of a tasteless diet.
"There's not much under the bark," she added. It was probably a millimeter in diameter at most.
"I said that it kept us alive, not that it kept us full," Killian said with a shrug, sitting carefully back down beside her.
The Past
The rest of the day passed quickly as the young lovers continued their pleasurable activities-
The Present
"Pleasurable activities?" Emma asked against her better judgment.
Killian smirked and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"Seriously?" Emma groaned.
The Past
"Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font.
The firefly wakens; waken thou with me.
Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.
Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips into the bosom of the lake.
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
Into my bosom and be lost in me."*
He sang the words softly into her ear as she lay still and pressed against him, her breath caressing his bare skin. The words hung in the air like the stars in the sky for a blissful moment of silence, and, just for a moment, everything was perfect. Even in the darkness, Killian could see the smile etched into Ciarra's face.
"You should sing more often," Ciarra murmured finally, looking up at him seriously.
The Present
"Wait a second-"
Killian let out a dramatic sigh. "Swan, must you interrupt every other word? This is becoming excessive. At this rate, we will be back in our own time by the time I finish this story."
Emma shot her companion a frosty glare. "You sang?"
"No," Killian said flatly. "Very rarely."
"You sang for your girlfriend?" A slow smirk was starting to etch its way onto Emma's face as she considered a sixteen-year-old Killian singing love songs.
"Music was a way of life in my time, love. It was what we did, particularly in my family," Killian dismissed it with a shrug.
"And then you just stopped?" Her curiosity had been unashamedly peaked.
"I never started," Killian insisted, avoiding her eyes. "My uncle tried to get me to sing on the stage he managed, and I refused. That was my mother's skill, not mine."
"But you sang for your girlfriend."
"Aye. That's what I told you. It was a special occasion. Certainly I wouldn't have done so if I weren't half giddy from a first romance," he defended himself shortly.
"Will you-"
"No," Killian cut her off. "Absolutely not."
The Past
"I don't think so," Killian replied, thankful for the darkness to hide his blush.
"I love your voice, though," Ciarra told him.
"High praise indeed from a woman of such wonderful taste."
Ciara just smiled, almost wickedly. "Is that a double entendre?"
Killian choked on a laugh. "Only if you take it that way."
A peaceful silence fell over the young couple for a few minutes, Killian well aware of each breath Ciarra took and each beat of her heart.
"So, tomorrow-"
Ciarra groaned. "No, not that cursed word. We're focusing on today, remember?"
"I think you'll like what I have to say," Killian defended himself gently, placing a soft kiss to her temple.
"I'd like making love again more," Ciarra pouted.
"We can do that too, but first let me just propose an idea. Let's walk until we find a city, work and rent a small room together, leave one day to get Lyanna, and then live there peacefully without thinking of anything awful again. It will be like living here in the forest, but just a bit more sustainable."
"I was imagining that would be our plan anyway," Ciarra chuckled. "But if it makes you feel better to voice it and get my consent, then certainly."
"Perfect," Killian agreed, rolling her over and slowly kissing her once again.
The Present
Emma opened her mouth to complain, but Killian cut her off before she could say anything.
"I could be making this a thousand times more graphic, Swan. Count your blessings. Besides, I could always stop here-"
"No matter how many times you suggest that, it's not going to change anything. Keep talking," Emma insisted.
The Past
The plan ended up working well. They were still hopelessly lost for another month, but eventually found a small village where the mountains met the ocean. It was technically in another kingdom, but that only seemed like good fortune.
Killian quickly found work as a labourer, helping to build ships. The hours were long and the work exhausting, but it kept a roof over his and Ciarra's heads. Ciarra found work in a shop near the small room they rented. It was literally just a room, with only enough space for a small, lumpy bed, but it was enough space for the two young and fully enamoured lovers. In spite of their long work days and exhaustion, they always found the time to enjoy each other, and would often pass almost the entire night awake because of their long conversations (among other activities).
It was perfect. The money started to add up, which only filled Killian with hope; perhaps he would be able to return for Lyanna within the year.
Winter came and went and each day followed a similar routine of near-bliss that Killian hadn't experienced for years. It seemed that nothing would be able to shatter it.
Then, one cold and rainy night in April, the peace was shattered by the sound of a knock on the door.
"Who on earth would that be?" Ciarra asked, eyebrows furrowing as she gripped Killian's hand nervously. The town they had found was always quiet at night; neither could imagine a single person who would be at the door.
"I've no idea," Killian muttered, moving towards the door with a knife. Ciarra followed nervously at his heels, eyes wide as the knocking continued.
After a deep breath and a squeak of fright from Ciarra, Killian threw open the door, holding his knife tightly in preparation. However, it fell from his hand as his eyes raked over the man in front of him, sopping wet and dressed in a dark blue navy uniform.
"Killian!" The man said, his voice breaking in relief as his blue eyes settled on Killian's scar.
Killian's heart hammered as he stared at the man in front of him, a mix of emotions flashing through him.
"Liam?!"
*This one is a slightly shortened version of Tennyson's poem. Not my words, unfortunately!