A/N: I know it's been awhile since I last updated, so thank you all for your patience. I usually edit any chapter 2 or 3 times, but now I only have time to do it once, so I hope there are very few mistakes :) This has also turned into the longest piece I've ever written and I hope it doesn't disappoint :)

Not for the first time since Killian's brought the princess on the ship, he feels shocked, angry, amazed and intrigued at the same time. And he has a feeling it won't be the last time either. But as he listens to Henry's tale of last night's events, he doesn't know which of these feelings will win the war raging within him.

Ever since the curse, he's been terrified of nightfall and the opportunity for hurting people it brings with it. He may be a ruthless pirate, but he has a code and his killings are not indiscriminate. When he boards a ship, he does it with as little loss of human life as possible. And he only feels eager to go into battle when other pirates try to board him. Or when he comes up against one of the ships owned by the corrupt king that got his brother killed; and even then, his quarrel is not with the crew; his sole purpose is to claim as much of the cargo as possible.

That's why he's kept the wolf out of people's way as much as he could in the past two years, turning much of his own cargo hold into a cage at night. All to keep his crew safe. And now the princess decides she wants to put herself in danger. He won't have it!

"Thank you, Henry, you can go about your duties, my boy," he dismisses his young crewmate, quietly seething. Henry doesn't comment and closes the door as quietly as possible on his way out. When the captain uses this tone, he's not in the best of moods and the wisest course of action is to stay out of his way. The princess is really lucky she's a hawk by day, Henry muses, otherwise the captain might have had a few words with her about how things were run on the Jolly Roger. He snorts at that; Henry's pretty sure that would be quite unlikely.

After Henry's departure, Killian starts pacing in his quarters, passing his hands through his hair. He's angry with her, but what could he expect of royalty? They're not bloody likely to listen to commands; maybe not even strong requests. The hawk shrieks at that moment and he's reminded once again there's something more at stake that his pride at having his orders disregarded. Right or wrong, convenient or not, they're bound together. And they won't stand a chance to defeat this if any harm were to come to any of them.

A fresh wave of frustration rises in him again, warring with a fierce desperation to keep her safe. It's also confusing, and that's not a state of being Killian likes to find himself in. So he grabs a foolscap from his desk and tells her in no uncertain terms just what he thinks about this and what he expects her to do from now - follow his orders - because it's his ship, dammit.

He's a bit calmer after this. Now that he's asked her (as much as he could turn his order into a request, anyway) to keep away from the beast he becomes at night, he can carry on with his studies. It's one thing to know you're looking for a solar eclipse, and another altogether to determine when and where the next one will be. And he suspects it will be all the more difficult to discover this particular piece of information since he has a limited library at his disposal. His stack of books is varied, but life at sea has not allowed him to store too many of them. Most of them were his brother's anyway and consist of navigational charts; after Liam's death he had been too busy avenging him to acquire many books. And when you're a sailor and living in spare quarters, you don't store too many possessions of your own.

Within the first few minutes of perusing his books he discovers the princess' notes and he's oddly pleased she's taken to helping him. By the time he gets to the last one, it's clear she knows very little about astronomy or navigation, but her insights are good. She's a natural and he has no doubt she'll be of great help, once he'll give her a few pointers. So he sets out to do just that.

"Your highness,

I was rather distraught, if not a bit angry, to hear you've gone against my wishes and gone to the cargo hold. While I do not wish to restrict your movements aboard my ship, I must insist that you refrain from going there in the future. For both our sakes, it is imperative that no harm comes to either of us; therefore I would be most appreciative if you would avoid that part of the ship from now on.

Yours, Killian Jones"

These are certainly not the words Emma would have hoped to read in his letter, but she can't say she didn't expect them. After all, Henry and Jamison had both warned her last night that the captain would not like it, especially since he always seems to know what happens on his ship. As any good captain would, she'd wager.

She decides not to press the issue for now, but she's convinced she'll get him to see her way eventually. The wolf is no more dangerous to her, than the hawk is to him. She can feel it deep inside of her; and she had seen it last night, in the way the wolf had approached her. She will just need to take a different approach, but in the end, she will get her way.

Neither Jamison, nor Henry seems much put out when she goes on deck, so Emma counts this as a good sign. The two are reluctant though, when she tells them she plans on visiting the wolf later, but they don't protest. It's as if seeing them together had vanquished some of their doubts. Enough that they agree to keep it amongst themselves for now.

And so it goes for the next few days. By day, Killian sets their course and spends most of his time locked in his quarters, browsing book after book in his possession. He makes his own notes, reads Emma's and leaves detailed instructions for her, teaching her how to read a star chart and how to recognize constellations. At times, he's sad he can't tell her in person, but if they succeed, he could do it one day. By night, Princess Emma divides her time between preparing her own notes, studying what Killian sets out for her every day, and visiting the animal in the hold.

But by the fifth night, Emma starts to grow discontented. The wolf has been the most perfect companion and it's been days since she herself has been up on deck. It's been even longer for him, Emma thinks with a wince. Before she can second guess herself, she heads to the cargo hold and pulls out the safety on the chain keeping the wolf trapped. "Come on, let's go up on deck and breathe some fresh air," she urges him.

The wolf stares at her, then at the chain curled up on the planks, in what she can only call bewilderment. His head darts back and forth between the two several times and Emma feels a weird emotion twist in her gut. If she didn't know any better or if he'd been a man, she'd say he were incredulous.

She takes a step towards the door, eyes on him the entire time. "Come on," she encourages him, extending a hand towards him. "It's a full moon tonight, it'll be amazing to watch," she adds as if this might coax him outside.

The first step is hard, but once it's done, the next ones come easier. She follows his progress with her eyes and she can actually see the effect it has on him: he seems lighter, if a wolf can be characterized as such, with every inch he comes closer to the door. And suddenly Emma is very glad she's listened to her heart and not the overcautious captain. This is the right thing to do - the wolf will not hurt a living soul aboard this ship, regardless of the form Killian Jones is in.

When they make it on deck, the skeleton crew is struck speechless. Emma's eyes dart towards the helm, looking for Jamison. She finds him at his post, eyes wide as saucers and mouth hanging open. Henry's there, too, the same stunned expression on his face. She doesn't dare look towards the remaining crewmen of the night shift, afraid they'll look at her with horror, but she reckons they feel the same way.

A small smile plays on her lips and she promptly raises her chin a bit. Turning her attention back to the wolf, she speaks to him in a clear voice: "Come, the view is better from the bow." Then she directs the wolf towards the fore of the ship, not daring another look behind her. The beast beside her does as she asks, completely ignoring the thunderstruck men.

They sit at the prow, Emma spread out on the deck in the spot the crew had accepted as hers. Up here, she feels as if she's flying high up above the sea; and on the nights with no moon, almost surrounded by darkness on all sides, she feels like floating, the light of stars her only comfort. Watching them now, she feels oddly close to the captain; she's sure he has stood many a time in this very spot, watching the same stars. A smile tugs at her lips, remembering his first notes instructing her on how to read a star chart, how to find the Summer Triangle and then the three constellations that borrow some of their brightest stars to this asterism (she's proud to know all these names now): the Lyre, the Aquila and the Swan. She's by no means proficient, but she can now recognize a few constellations and understand how the stars move.

But tonight isn't one of these nights; tonight there's a full moon. It's high up in the sky already, and its light casts a warm glow across the deck and their surroundings. The sea is calm, barely a breeze present to ruffle her hair. It's so peaceful she almost wishes she could stay like this forever.

For several moments, the wolf does nothing, eyes glued to the open sea. It looks almost as if he takes in the fresh air, getting acquainted with the sea in this form as well. He seems to like it, and Emma knows it was the proper choice. She lays a hand across his neck, scratching lightly behind his ears. The wolf nuzzles her hand and she can't help but smile. It takes another half step towards her and puts its head on her shoulder, while Emma's hands go around his neck in one of the strangest hugs she'd ever had thought of. No, she'd never have thought of it before, but here she is, and she's not sure now that she'd change anything.

They stay like this a few more minutes. When the wolf grows restless, she releases him, but he doesn't go far. Just far enough to lie on the deck beside her, head perched on her thighs, eyes towards the sea.

And that's how Henry draws them that night.

A few more weeks pass without incident. Killian studies by day, Emma tries to help him by night, while keeping the wolf with her at all times. They're either in the cargo hold or on deck, but almost all the time together. She's even taken him to her chambers a couple of times, but that had felt too dangerous, the threats of discovery by the captain too close for comfort.

The research goes slow, but Emma feels more relaxed. Killian has made considerable progress into calculating the time of the next solar eclipse, and he's close to discovering where as well. There's not much time left until the three year mark the Blue Fairy had mentioned, but she trusts him. Killian is resourceful; and there's such a beauty to life on the Jolly Roger, sometimes she thinks she wouldn't mind spending the rest of her life on board. But such thoughts are usually followed by a fierce longing to see her family again, and to see him …her True Love.

It's been months since they've discovered what to do to break the curse, and in all this time, Killian's just managed to get an inkling on how to calculate the next solar eclipse. He has the equations for determining the time, and while that speaks well of his abilities to extrapolate what he needs from the little information he has, it's useless. They had already known from the Blue Fairy that a solar eclipse was coming at the end of the third year. What he doesn't know and finds himself miles away from, is where the bloody hell it will happen. The seas are so vast, by the time the eclipse happens they could be weeks away from the correct location. And while the Jolly Roger is fast, it's not that fast.

Emma has unwavering faith in him, that much is clear from her letters. What he doesn't understand is why. Why does she place so much faith in him? It's not as if he has found anything of value so far.

Sighing deeply, Killian rubs a hand over his face. His eyes sting and as he closes them a few times, the images lose their focus. He should go up on deck for a while, breathe some fresh air; he's been cooked up in his quarters for so long, for endless days in the past few months, he feels a sudden urge to go outside, see the sun, and let the air caress his face.

As usual, everything is fine above. The Jolly Roger and its crew are a perfect match, capable of smooth running without any intervention from him in times of calm seas. And it's been one such day so far, but the calm is deceptive. His crew knows it and they're already running around securing things in anticipation of the storm that's brewing. It's still a couple hours away, though, so they have time, his nose tells him.

As if to mock him, the wind starts to blow harder. And it picks up a piece of paper from a crate nearby. Killian recognizes it as one of Henry's sheets from his sketchpad; something he'd given the lad on his last birthday.

He barely catches the thing before it's taken out at sea forever and he breathes a sigh of relief. Henry takes great pride and care of his artwork, and if his sketchpad is unsupervised, he's sure it's because the boy is caught up somewhere helping in preparing the ship for the upcoming downpour.

He means to put it away, but at the last minute he catches a glimpse of something so he turns the page. He's stunned, the breath whooshing out of him. It's a depiction of a beautiful woman, with soft features and beautiful blond hair. The drawing is in charcoal, but he just knows she's blond. Emma. His heart is beating wildly in his chest.

Henry had told him she was beautiful, but he hadn't completely believed him. The boy was young and impressionable; not that it mattered to Killian anyway. She was funny and witty and most of all, she had a good heart. He'd never even spared a thought to her physical appearance. But by the Gods, she was stunning. Put Emma in the vicinity of any number of sirens, and they'd come up short.

After long moments of staring at her smiling face, a gust of wind almost tears the page from his hand. Unwilling to lose it, Killian decides to place it back in the sketchbook and secure it for the boy. Another drawing catches his attention. It's Emma again, but this time Henry has captured the scene from the side. She's by the prow of his ship, staring at the full moon ahead. And there, lying beside her is a large, black wolf, head resting casually on her feet, the princess' hand in the animal's fur.

He's left speechless. It's a beautiful drawing - so serene, he can't believe it's the two of them. It's clear the wolf is her devoted companion, but even so he's afraid for her. Anger and disappointment rise within him again, and Killian clenches and unclenches his hands for several times in an attempt to get his emotions under control.

"Henry!" He bellows, having lost all desire to be patient. Why in bloody hell has nobody told him? He didn't expect Emma to obey his commands (she was royalty and a bloody stubborn one), but he damn well expected it of his crew. And the fact that no one had told him, meant she was clearly gaining their support.

He doesn't have to say anything to the boy when he gets there. One look at the captain's face and the paper in his hand makes it clear what has happened; Henry's eyes widen and he silently curses his carelessness. He gulps hard, but raises his chin up a bit. There's nothing he can do about it now but face the consequences.

Killian notices this small act of rebellion and, if he were not so upset at the moment, he'd find it amusing. Even so, a small part of his brain feels proud of his cabin boy, the one he had found on the docks in Westerland, a scrawny little thing not 5 years of age, famished and alone.

"Care to explain what this is?"

"One of my drawings, sir," says the boy demurely. A muscle in Killian's jaw twitches and Henry winces a bit. "Of the princess," he adds. But the captain keeps looking at him, clearly not satisfied, so he adds in a small voice: "With the wolf."

He can see the Captain is ready to tell him something, most likely scold him, so he hastens to add, "He's completely harmless, sir. He stays with the Princess all the time and he hasn't hurt even one of us in the few weeks he's been on deck." The moment the last words are out of his mouth, he sees it's the wrong thing to say. He promptly clamps his mouth shut but refuses to lower his eyes. He's seen the wolf since the beginning and he knows it would never hurt them; especially after seeing it with the Princess. In Henry's mind, both animals are part of this crew and the Jolly Roger takes care of its own. He wonders if he should tell the captain that.

Killian doesn't say a word. He's upset at having his orders disobeyed, yet the boy's defiance tells him he hadn't felt threatened by the animal. "Make sure you don't lose this," he grits out through his clenched teeth and storms off towards his cabin.

That evening, he goes to the cargo hold without having written any message for the princess.