Emma
Hook was avoiding her.
It was such an odd thing to consider as fact when it came to him, but it didn't make it any less accurate.
She had not been sure of it in the beginning. She was, after all, somehow back to being a stranger in Storybrooke, unaware of everyone's usual daily routines, especially when there wasn't a villain running around the town the way Zelena and Cora had. So she had not been sure if his continued absence from town was typical or if he genuinely was that busy running his business, which is what she assumed he had been doing all week.
But right now, as they sat in the station's bullpen and ran through their tactical plans for the next day, she could not deny it any longer.
From the moment he had entered, seeking the complete opposite side of the room from her, to now, where he had managed to talk to everyone but her and steadfastly avoided her gaze, he had done his utmost best to stay clear from interacting with her just like he had done when she told him she was leaving for New York.
And she was okay with that.
It was absolutely fine by her.
She had no problem with that at all.
Except, it was highly inconvenient.
She had meant it when she had told him she would be watching him. He was in danger, and she did not trust him enough not to put himself in harm's way through some reckless and stupid action, so she needed to keep an eye on him.
Something that became increasingly difficult to do when he disappeared from town until it suited him.
King tide was tomorrow night, according to Hook, and the closer they got to it, the more anxious Emma felt. They had discussed the plan extensively, and now there was nothing left but to wait for first light the following day when a small contingent would sail under Killian's orders to the small island where the coordinates on the note led to.
After much arguing, David gave in to staying behind to protect the town and set up a base of operations at Regina's - one of the safest places in town due to several security measures set up by the very first curse - and monitor all activity from there. It was also an excellent location to guard Henry, Roland, and baby Leo, which was exactly what Mary Margaret, Ruby, Granny and the dwarves would help him with while the sheriff's deputies, park rangers, and Academy cadets patrolled the town and its outskirts.
Emma knew all that and the detailed tactical plan David was droning on about for the last hour quite well since they had been the only things he had talked about all week.
She really could not be blamed for not paying attention.
Besides, she was not the only one.
Ruby was texting in the corner, Regina was looking disinterestedly at her nails, her own mother had glassy eyes, and Hook was sitting with his head thrown back and his eyes blatantly closed not even trying to pretend he was listening to David.
He looked so tired; it made her heart ache.
Had he even slept since the night he was attacked?
She studied the lines of exhaustion on his face, the dark bags under his eyes, and the way his hair seemed even more disheveled than usual as if he spent every second he could running his hand through it.
She hated seeing him like this; it made her want to move heaven and earth to fix whatever plagued him.
It was a feeling she was not used to.
Then again, Killian Jones made her feel many things she was not used to.
Things she wasn't supposed to feel.
Because how could she feel heartbroken when they hadn't been anything?
Emma had run away at the thought of falling in love with Killian Jones.
She had survived a lot in her life, and she had been sure that she would not survive having her heart broken by him.
And yet, here she sat.
Feeling as heartbroken as she had once feared and ran away from.
Emma stepped out of the Bug and slowly surveyed the boat - no, ship - in front of her. The Aquilion was a big ship, more prominent than the Jolly, and Emma was amazed she had not taken note of it when she had last been at the docks. The ship straddled a delicate balance between its modern function as a cargo ship and the apparent preferences towards traditional sailing by its Captain.
Said Captain was standing at the helm staring out to the horizon where the sun was slowly rising, and Emma wished briefly that she could somehow read his mind. Everyone else on deck was running around setting everything up for their departure, and there he stood, deeply lost in thought as he looked out to sea.
She immediately felt out of place when her feet hit the deck and briefly regretted convincing her father to stay behind. Once they set sail, she would be on a ship with a bunch of people she hadn't properly spoken to in months, if ever, including Killian Jones. They weren't supposed to reach their destination until nightfall, and despite the time spent on the ship when they went to Neverland, she was pretty much useless on one.
She hated feeling useless.
But she hated this chasm between her and Killian even more. He barely acknowledged when she stepped on deck and calmly sidestepped her as he headed to the control room where Robin and Regina were busy setting up the navigation and communication controls that would keep them in constant contact with Storybrooke.
Emma briefly debated whether to join them before she eventually decided she could sit in silence and awkwardness after she'd taken a nap and felt a bit more social as she headed below deck.
After spending the entire morning pretending to be asleep in her assigned quarters, Emma decided to explore the ship the way she once had with the Jolly Roger on their trip to Neverland before she had to go above deck to relieve Robin from radio duty.
The mystery of the Jolly Roger's whereabouts was at the forefront of her mind, and she hoped this trip would provide some answers. It was not like anyone seemed inclined to share with her what exactly had happened to it. Everyone, including Killian, seemed willing to pretend the Aquilion had always been here instead of the Jolly and perfunctory refused to mention Killian's former ship. She wasn't sure yet if it was to spare his feelings or to keep her in the dark.
Her initial assessment of the Aquilion remained correct. It was a big ship with much more ground to discover than the Jolly. A barquentine, Little John had told her as he led her to where her quarters would be. Emma tried to remember more of the details Little John had given her as she tried to navigate her way to the galley and failed. As she turned left, she suddenly collided with a warm, firm body and immediately looked up as she registered the familiar scent of spice, rum, and sea.
He was back in his pirate garb, leather pants, and duster included, and her breath hitched.
Her hands remained on his muscled arms where she had gripped him to steady herself and she was eye-level with his exposed firm chest and that coarse hair he had no problem displaying in his black billowy shirt that he refused to button properly.
And she knew that no matter how good Killian Jones looked in his pirate clothes - or any clothes, as she was starting to learn from his new wardrobe - he looked even better without them. Because she now knew what he looked like under those clothes after that night in his apartment.
And she hated it.
She had subtly ran her eyes through the ink that decorated his body with various nautical images, the many scattered scars from battles fought, the short curls of dark hair which peppered his chest and trailed down his stomach to the thicker patch above his crotch where Emma's eyes had been restricted to see more skin.
Which had only made it worse, of course.
Standing in that crowded room with a shirtless Killian Jones had not been enough.
She had wanted to strip him naked and worship his body, fall to her knees and -
Nope.
She could not go there.
Especially not now, when she was still gripping his arms, and he was looking at her just so, making her want to throw caution to the wind and haul his lips to hers.
It had been almost a minute, yet both of them did not speak as they gazed at each other. His eyes darkened, and Emma briefly wondered if his thoughts ran the same as hers.
Because all she could think about right now was how much she wanted him.
Could not believe how much she wanted him.
Craved him.
Before she could do something stupid like tell him just that to break the tension-filled silence they found themselves in, Killian brusquely stepped back from her and shook his head softly.
"Swan," he said, nodding at her.
And was gone before she could even nod or say something back, leaving her reeling from the swirling lust and rejection in her gut.
For someone who had been lost moments before, Emma managed to retrace her steps and find her way back to her quarters quite easily, convinced that if she took another nap she would feel better when she woke up. Maybe sleep would bring the answers to the questions she was too afraid to ask.
Because she wasn't sure, she could handle this. Whatever this was.
Maybe it had not been one of her brightest ideas.
Putting herself on a ship with Killian Jones when she was lost and confused regarding her feelings for him.
And why the hell was she even confused regarding feelings when it came to Killian Jones?
She had kissed him once.
Once.
There had been men she'd slept with and ran into that never generated this sort of response from her. This confusion and anxiousness when confronted with the sight of someone she intimately knew through kisses and heated gazes.
That was all they amounted to.
A frantic kiss in the middle of the jungle.
She had made sure it never went farther than that.
Because she knew, before having even laid a finger on him in Neverland, that once would not be enough with Killian Jones, it would never be a one-time thing with him—a quick rump in the sheets with a note left behind in the morning.
Her usual modus operandi.
No, this - whatever it was - went beyond lust.
She had known in Neverland when she held to the lapels of his jacket right before kissing him that it would never be the same again. But she hadn't cared, hadn't been able to stop herself.
And oh, how it had changed everything.
It had been so much harder to keep him at arm's length after she knew how it felt to kiss and be kissed by Killian Jones.
It had made her want so much more.
And for the first time in years, more didn't make her think of sweaty bodies finding extasy but of tranquil mornings waking up in his arms.
Mornings that would never stop because he belonged by her side.
God - what was happening to her?
The Emma that had been annoyed (and a tiny bit flattered) with his attentions in the Enchanted Forest and Neverland would despair if she knew how much she now craved to be even acknowledged by him. To have his soulful blue eyes rest on her and stay there.
He had a way of seeing right through her, in a way no one else did. And despite that, he still made her feel beautiful and strong.
And wanted.
As if everything he saw in her was more than enough to stay and maybe even love her.
And without her knowing, too fast for her to realize, she had started to believe in it.
So maybe she had a tiny crush on him.
But that didn't have to mean anything, right?
She didn't have to tell him or ride off into the sunset with him after he gave her True Love's Kiss or whatever. He didn't seem inclined to pursue her romantically anymore (she ignored the twist in her gut every time she considered this), and she had never been interested in that anyway.
Whatever crush born out of his sheer attractiveness and confident swagger would disappear with time, and they would continue to co-exist peacefully.
Hell, they could even be friends, right?
Emma spent an embarrassing amount of time pacing her small quarters and succinctly failed to take another nap. Her self-imposed banishment to her quarters was certainly becoming ridiculous now. She had been planning to relieve Robin from keeping watch and radio duty a while ago before she got sidetracked by all things Killian Jones.
Maybe it was time she distracted herself and found answers for those questions she had been so determined to ask this morning.
With the decision made, Emma resolutely left her quarters behind, walking in the opposite direction from when she had previously left them. She wasn't sure where exactly the Captain's quarters were on this ship, but it would probably be the smartest choice to avoid the paths where she had run into him before.
After a couple of minutes walking, Emma realized how luck really wasn't on her side and vowed to cleanse herself whatever way she could on her return to Storybrooke as she reached a dead end.
There was only one door in this hallway and she didn't need anyone to tell her where it led to. Because there on the door was what she now knew as a Celtic heraldic knot. A symbol she had first seen on the door of the Jolly Roger's Captain's quarters when they were in Neverland.
It had intrigued the hell out of her the first time she saw it, so much so that she had returned to trace it on a paper to research what it was when she made it back to Storybrooke.
Pan's curse hit before she could ever ask Killian why he had a Celtic symbol carved on his door and Zelena's machinations had all but erased it from her mind.
But here it was, once again, carved on a door that she was sure would lead to his quarters. It clearly meant something to him, and she wanted, needed, to know.
It was the only explanation she would later give herself when she wondered when her hand had decided to knock on the door without her brain's permission.
By the time her brain caught up to what her hand was doing, the door was already swinging open, revealing a disheveled Killian Jones.
"Swan? Is everything alright?"
"You tell me," said Emma evenly, pretending this had been her plan all along and going into the defensive immediately.
"What?" snapped Killian. "What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"
"You've been avoiding me, Hook."
"Like hell I have. In case you have somehow overlooked it, Swan, I am literally stuck on a ship with you."
"Do not lie to me, Killian Jones. You have been avoiding me."
"Ahh, so now I'm Killian?"
His voice was angry, almost a growl, but his eyes were filled with turmoil and pain. Pain that she knew was there because of her.
It was maddening how well she could read him because she knew he was probably reading her just as well, and she wasn't sure that she wanted him to realize what she was thinking right now.
Not when she herself didn't want to let the realization sink in.
She hated him.
Hated him because she missed him, and deep within her, the thought had formed that she couldn't live without him.
Too bad she figured that out right around the time he started avoiding her.
"What do you want from me, Emma?"
Everything.
"Nothing. I just want you to be honest with me."
"Lass, all I have ever been with you is honest."
"Yeah, well, where's the Jolly Roger then? You can start with that."
He inhaled deeply and turned his gaze away, and Emma hated herself for pushing him on this. For prodding and poking when he had always been delicate and patient with her when it came to letting her open up on her own time and terms.
But she needed to know.
The ship suddenly lurched violently, and they both lost their balance, falling back to the wall behind Emma. In one second, she ended up trapped against the hallway wall, with one of his knees between her thighs, his eyes on her lips, and his breath mingling with hers as they both gasped.
It took even less than that one second for her body to react to his proximity.
"Emma."
He looked wrecked, and she had the slight suspicion she did too, but she didn't care. She had never wanted a man as badly as she wanted him at that moment.
She needed to kiss him.
As she slowly stretched on her tiptoes to reach his lips, the ship lurched violently again, and they both tumbled down.
"Bloody hell."
Killian swiftly stood back up and helped her up with panicked eyes.
"Everything alright, love?"
"Yes, I think so. What was that?" questioned Emma worriedly. The ship continued to rock fiercely, and Emma suddenly understood the term sea legs much better.
"I'm heading to the helm; I must relieve Robin. Swan, alert Regina, and head to the control room."
Once again, he was gone before she could respond, and she was left wondering what the hell had just happened.
Emma did as told and found Regina, who did not need to be told anything and was already headed toward the control room. The both of them stumbled all the way above deck and quickly locked themselves in the small room that sat behind the ship's wheel where Hook was navigating the ship expertly in the thunder and rain.
"Mayday! Mayday! David? Can you hear me?"
Robin was already in the room, radio in hand, clearly attempting to contact everyone back home.
"I thought there were no storms on the course Killian plotted?" demanded Regina, ignoring her boyfriends radio attempts.
"There weren't because this is not a normal storm seeing as it came out of nowhere," sighed Robin worriedly.
"Then what is Hook doing out there alone?" inquired Emma immediately.
"Because we're not actually in danger. Look to the left," signaled Robin. "Now to the right."
Emma and Regina did as told and then turned to him with furrowed brows as they noticed what he was hinting at.
"The storm is battering us on each side, but it is calm in front of us and straight ahead. As long as we stick to the course Killian set, to the very detailed inch of it, we should be fine."
"Then why the hell were you radioing David like we were in peril?" hissed Regina.
"Because whoever is meeting us on that island is probably behind the storm or the safe passage, but not both. Which means we're going in even more blind than we thought," whispered Emma, meeting Robin's eyes as he nodded at her nervously.
Despite the pouring rain and violent waves brought by the mysterious raging storm, they sighted land right around nightfall, right as the king tide began, as had been calculated by Killian before.
Emma did not hesitate to join Killian, Robin, and Regina on one of the boats they lowered to the water as Little John and two Merry Men rowed to shore ahead of them to survey the island. Regina had given her some pointers for defensive magic but they had not been able to have enough lessons for Emma to feel anything but nerve-wracking trepidation the closer they got to shore.
The moment Emma set foot on land, she felt it. There was something different about this small, otherwise unremarkable island. One glance in Regina's direction confirmed her suspicions and heightened her worry.
Emma had her fair share of experience with cursed islands after Neverland, and even though this island was much smaller and uninhabited, it did not inspire any confidence in her.
However, movement behind her in the water caught her attention before she could voice her concern to the others, and she whirled around to watch a ripple in the water grow more prominent as a woman walked out of the sea.
Even if she hadn't just stepped half-naked out of an ocean Emma knew to be freezing, Emma would have known this woman was no mere human even on the streets of New York. There was something almost eerie about her ethereal beauty and how she moved that commanded attention. Her long reddish brown hair covered her breasts and went past what Emma could only describe as a skirt made of seaweed.
The logical conclusion would have been that this woman was a mermaid or even a siren that had somehow gotten herself some human legs as Ariel had, and yet the moment she thought it, Emma knew that was not the case. She wouldn't call herself an expert in magical beings, but she knew this was no mere mermaid.
Despite that, the closer the woman came, the more she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something familiar about her.
"Who are you?" demanded Killian the moment the woman stepped a few feet in front of them to gaze at them imperiously.
"I see you have not come alone, Thaisce."
Her voice was melodic yet ancient and booming all at once, and Emma tried to hold in a gasp as it reverberated through her. There was power there. Ancient and cold like the sea and yet so familiar. The woman turned to her, and the stormy blue eyes that gazed back were as familiar, ancient, and cold as the power Emma was confident thrummed under her skin.
"Your note did not ask me to," bit off Killian, turning the woman's attention from Emma to him. She could see that the nickname had shaken him, he hid it well, but Emma knew. Just like she knew, this woman had shaken him beyond her knowing who he was. There had been no sign of recognition on his face, but there had been something there, a flash of confusion and consternation that he pushed away the moment he had felt Emma's eyes on him.
"No, I did not. It would have been foolish of me to expect your heroic friends to stay behind. I do need to speak to you alone, however."
"Like hell you're speaking with him alone. We don't know you, lady," sneered Regina.
"Caeliana."
"What?" questioned Killian.
"That is my name. Now you know me. I mean you no harm, but I do need to speak to Killian alone. He may share whatever I share with you later if he so wishes. But what I have to say is for his ears only."
Emma knew what was coming the moment Killian turned to look her in the eye. This was never going to end any other way. He had sailed all the way here for answers, and nothing, not even his own safety, would have stopped him. Understanding his choice didn't make her feel any better when it came, though. She chanced a glance at Robin and Regina and knew they were expecting the same outcome she was.
"Lead the way then, Caeliana."
Emma waited as Killian and Caeliana walked a few feet away from them to stand near the ruins of what she assumed had once been a watchtower.
She briefly wondered who would place a watchtower on an island this small that didn't appear on any maps, before she was distracted by the conversation happening out of her earshot. The woman, Caeliana, had said something that clearly upset Killian. The way they stood made it impossible to read their lips, but Emma knew his body language well enough, and the conversation looked heated enough on both sides for her to know they weren't precisely exchanging niceties.
And yet, she didn't feel like they were in any type of danger.
Nothing in the past few hours had made sense to Emma, and this made even less.
"Regina, can't you do a spell or something for us to listen in?" probed Emma.
"I can't even if I wanted to. Besides, what would be the point if he can just tell us later?"
"You're telling me you can throw fireballs at people but can't eavesdrop on them? Even the Weasley twins found a way!"
"I'm telling you, I can't even light a candle right now, Miss Swan. Surely, you feel it too? Or are you so out of touch with your magic you haven't noticed?" snapped Regina, clearly not appreciating Emma's reference or the questioning of her abilities.
"This island -"
"Yes, Emma! This island! It has dampened our powers somehow, someway. I've never heard of a place being able to do that, only potions or spells. But my magic and yours, dark and light, have been diminished by this damned island."
"But hers hasn't," whispered Emma.
"No, hers hasn't. Though if she wanted us dead, she would have done so already," commented Regina calmly. "Tell me, Miss Swan, what can you tell me about her magic?"
Emma recognized the tone immediately; it was the same tone Regina sometimes used during their magic lessons in her vault. It held a certain derision that questioned Emma's abilities (and intelligence) and a particular curiosity about the inner workings of Emma's light magic.
"It's ancient, and powerful, and cold yet not. It reminds me of the sea. It reminds me of - " trailed off Emma, unable to describe what was familiar about the woman's magic.
"Hmm, so you recognize it too?"
"Do you know what it is?"
Regina pursed her lips and turned to stare at the expanse of sea and the ship anchored in front of them to ponder her answer. It was one of the few times Emma could think of that she could describe Regina as unsure and hesitant.
"I don't. I know I have never encountered it before; I would know if I did. But I know it is not entirely unfamiliar to me. I simply can't figure out why," sighed the dark-haired woman.
Emma turned back to gaze at Killian and watched as Caeliana handed him something he pocketed before she walked into the ocean the same way she had exited it—this time without sparing the rest of them a glance.
Emma's feet had her moving toward him before she even thought about it.
"Hook, what's wrong? Who is she? What does she want?"
"I don't know."
Lie.
"Killian," warned Emma. "Do not lie to me."
She took a step closer to him, and he backed away automatically. Emma tried to ignore the twinge of pain the rejection caused her.
"What is happening, Killian?"
"I don't know."
Truth.
Before she could say anything else, he shook his head and turned toward the rowboats where the rest of the group awaited them.
"We should head back. There's a storm coming."
Emma could not help but think that the storm was already here, present in his turbulent blue eyes, as she stared at his back while they trudged down the beach.