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hollyethecurious · 9 months

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CS AU: The Law of Surprise (3/3)

Summary: The Law of Surprise: a custom as old as humanity itself. The Law dictates that a man saved by another is expected to offer to his savior a boon whose nature is unknown to one or both parties. In most cases, the boon takes the form of the saved man's firstborn child, conceived or born without the father's knowledge.

A/N: This is NOT a Witcher AU. The idea for this fic WAS inspired by the show, however. I’m not sure if the Law of Surprise was a show/game creation or if it existed before. Regardless, this fic is my spin on the concept and will be posted in three parts.

Much love and thanks to the @cssns mods for keeping this event going year after year! A HUGE shout out to my artist @eastwesthomeisbest for the AMAZING pieces she made to accompany my fic. Go give her ALL the flails! Finally, all the hot chocolate, rum, and grilled cheese sandwiches for my amazing betas @ultraluckycatnd and @kmomof4. LOVE YOU LADIES TO BITS!

Rated T / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!

Part One | Part Two

Part Three

The castle was brimming with life and gaiety. Orchestral sounds spilled over the balconies and light seeped from every window, illuminating the stone walls and bathing the gardens in an exuberant glow. If he’d had to guess, Hook would estimate the overflow from the ballroom to be in the hundreds as he made his way through the crush of courtiers, adorned in their finery as they eagerly awaited to be announced.

Dukes and earls. Ambassadors and emissaries. Military leaders and loyal sycophants. The creme de la creme of Misthaven and her allied kingdoms were all in attendance - all who had received a royal summons, that is. Hook had witnessed a number of people being turned away at the gate when they had failed to produce the invitation. The exquisitely designed edict with its filigree and gilded letters announcing the event of the century:

The Formal Betrothal Ceremony and Ball between Her Royal Highness Princess Emma of Misthaven and His Royal Highness Prince Neal, Son and Heir of the Dark One.

Not that Hook had received one himself, of course; their Majesties had learned their lesson the last time they’d attempted to share blessed news and an invitation with him. Pan had been serious when he’d meant no interference, though they had underestimated what the evil bastard considered as such until he’d enticed most of the Misthaven male youths away from their beds and nearly to their deaths over one of the kingdom’s cliffs, because the sovereigns had dared to have an envoy deliver him news of the arrival of their second child - a son. When David and Hook had confronted Pan before he could lure the boys to their deaths, the demon brat had made it clear that any communication, any interaction, any attempts to maintain or strengthen relationships between Misthaven and “his pirate” would be seen as a breach of contract and met with severe penalties. After that, Hook had once again kept his distance from Misthaven, and Misthaven had kept its distance from him. So, naturally, Hook did not fault them for failing to send him an invite to tonight’s festivities. They could not possibly have known that circumstances were different now.

A fact Tink kept nagging on about these past few months.

Months they had spent attempting to set things right in the wake of Neverland’s liberation. Months they had spent establishing authority and restoring order while dealing with uprisings from those still loyal to Pan. Months Hook had spent ferrying those who had wished to return to their homes, not knowing if one even still existed for them, as he warred with himself over the prospect of returning to his own.

It had been the news of Emma’s betrothal that had started the quarrel with Tink up again. Enjoying a pint in a dark corner of anonymity whilst patroning a tavern in Glowerhaven, they’d heard the toasts and cheers go up wishing the princess and “her prince” well. The Dark One’s son wasn’t truly royalty, of course, but none were fool enough to challenge the title.

While the other patrons had reveled in the news of the betrothal, their spirits high from the glee of gossip and tankards of toasts, Hook had sat with a weighty stone of despondency in his belly even as he’d tried to muster up some semblance of jubilation over the news.

“You must go to Misthaven,” Tink urged. “You have to tell them. Tell her. You can’t let her enter a betrothal or get married without--”

“Do you think I would interfere in her life now?” Hook replied through grit teeth. “Burden her with this… with me, when she has finally found happiness?”

“How do you know it is true happiness she has found? The Law of Surprise entrusted her to you. Gave you the responsibility and privilege of her destiny. You cannot sit by and allow her to--”

“To what?” Hook snapped. “To decide for herself? To pursue a destiny she has chosen? To fall in love and follow her heart while making alliances that will strengthen her kingdom and secure her reign? I am not her lord and master, nor am I her overseer.”

“No. You are not,” Tink said softly. “But you are fated to her. Bonded to her through the Law. Connected in a way she isn’t even aware of, because you haven’t allowed her to know. You owe her the truth before she establishes new bonds with another.”

Hook scoffed, but tapped the ring on his thumb against his tankard as he considered her words.

“At the very least,” Tink continued, “go see her. Before she is whisked off to the Dark Realm to prepare for her new life as Neal’s wife and future Queen of the Dark One’s subjects, go meet her. Make sure it is for love that she has chosen this path, and not out of a sense of duty or obligation. Slake your curiosity of who she has become and give yourself the peace of knowing that in spite of everything, she turned out well.” Hardening her gaze, she added, “And for the sake of all the gods, stop being a coward and go face your brother.”

He hated when the infernal fairy was right.

It was cowardice that had kept him from returning. Fear of having to divulge all he’d done in order to achieve his freedom, the lengths he’d had to go to and the ways in which he’d made Pan believe he’d broken him before finally being able to…

Afraid that there was no longer a place for him among society. Terrified over the prospect that, despite Neverland’s magic and the way it had kept him youthful, his life had already passed him by. Petrified to face the girl he’d been meant to watch over, daunted by the uncertainty of how she might react if he ever managed to work up the nerve to tell her the truth about him, about the Law of Surprise, about the fate’s design that had bonded them to one another before she was even born.

Tink had been right, though. He could not give in to cowardice, so he’d commissioned a new waistcoat and duster, one befitting a gentleman pirate paying court, and made port in Misthaven the evening of his princess’ betrothal ball. His lack of an invitation was no issue with the guards at the gate, he’d merely flashed them his hook and they’d allowed him entry, certifying that the king’s pardon of Hook’s crimes and promises of sanctuary within Misthaven still stood. Though Hook did feel it prudent to tuck his left arm behind his back, beneath his quilted, leather coat whilst in the receiving line, lest one of the guests glimpse it and start a fuss.

He wasn’t sure if it was the maddening wait, the stifling corridor, or the crowd of plumed and perfumed guests that began to grate on his nerves, spiking his anxiety and forcing him to withdraw from the ballroom hall. All he knew was that he’d suddenly found himself in a dark and isolated alcove around the corner from the crush, attempting to steady his breathing while muttering curses at himself for falling apart over something as simple as queuing for a ball.

“Is everything alright, good sir?”

Hook spun around, once more tucking his hook behind his back while his hand swept through his hair in an attempt to straighten his appearance. He stood in stupified silence for several skips of his heartbeat, too stunned by the gorgeous woman before him, until he finally cleared his throat and found his voice.

“Aye, lass,” he replied, unable to keep some of the awe out of his tone. “No need to concern yourself with me.”

The woman, young, blonde, with a slender form that did not fail to fill out the curves of her gown while demonstrating the strength he could detect beneath her proper posture, cocked her head to one side, her seaglass eyes narrowing at him even as a smile slightly tugged at the corners of her exquisite lips, rebutted, “A man hiding away in the shadows is a bit concerning, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I suppose so,” Hook conceded with a slight chuckle. Taking a step forward so she could get a better look at him, his smile broadened when her eyes widened and swept over his form with similar interest. “Truth be told,” he continued in a low timbre, “I am rather out of practice in the rules of court. It has been many years since I’ve attended a royal ball.”

Eyes snapping back up to his, she schooled her features and lifted her chin. “Have you not escorted someone to attend with you? Have you no one whose company you can rely on?”

Hook sighed wistfully. “My brother is here,” he said, attempting to keep all sense of melancholy or apprehension from his tone, “but I have not seen him in many years. My presence may come as something of a shock, and I do not wish to cast a pall on the evening. I would never wish to tarnish the memory of it for the princess.”

“The princess?” she parroted, her brows arching and achieving heights that nearly matched her voice. “You hold her in high regard then?”

“Aye. Very much.” Thoughts of his Emma, and the maelstrom of emotions they brought with them, made his voice constrict in his throat, making his next words a bit strained. “Though, I have not had the pleasure of her acquaintance since she was a child.”

The woman’s expression shifted, becoming pensive, almost far away, but as quickly as they had taken hold of her features, she shook off whatever thoughts she’d been contemplating. “Well, I highly doubt anything you do could tarnish this night for her.”

“I appreciate that vote of confidence, love.” Killian scratched behind his ear, his hips swinging with another swaggering step forward as he pressed a little too closely for decorum’s liking into her personal space. “I don’t suppose, once I’ve mustered up the courage to make my way into the ballroom, you would consider bestowing me the pleasure of a waltz?”

The corners of the woman’s lips tipped up again, and Hook wondered what it would take to encourage a full smile from her. Not that it mattered. He’d already accepted the challenge.

“Would such a consideration give you the necessary encouragement to face your brother and the court?” she asked.

Boldly, he took her hand and ran his thumb over the backs of her knuckles, murmuring, “Such consideration would give me the encouragement to do a great many things, Miss…”

Her lips parted, the response of her name on the tip of her tongue, when an attendant rounded the corner and jolted them apart with her exclamations. “Your Highness! I have been looking everywhere for you!”

Hook whipped his head from the attendant back to the woman who had snatched her hand from his and taken several steps back.

“Your Highness?” he said incredulously. “As in Her Royal Highness? Princess Emma?”

“I… I,” she stuttered. “I’m sorry, I must…”

“Excuse us, my lord,” the attendant said, encouraging her charge away from the alcove and towards the hallways that led to the royal entrance at the back of the ballroom.

Hook watched her depart, stunned by the realization that the woman with whom he’d been conversing - and was now rather taken with - was none other than the princess. His princess. His Emma. His Child of Surprise who was no longer a child.

He’d known that already of course, that she was no longer a child. More than ten years had passed since he’d last seen her, but as she was escorted down the hallway, briefly taking the opportunity to glance at him over her shoulder with an apologetic smile and a glimmer of attraction in her eyes, the reality of those years hit him full force. His princess was no longer a child, and once the betrothal ceremony was complete, she would no longer be his.

Forgoing the queue, Hook forced his way into the ballroom without being announced and found himself a vantage point where he could observe without taking on much notice. A resurgence of duty and responsibility filled him. He wanted to - no, needed to - weigh the measure of the man his princess was about to bind herself to in betrothal. Needed to know he was worthy of her.

Although, he was quite certain no man ever would be.

As the ballroom began to fill, his vantage point proved to be less than ideal. Unable to clearly see the dais, he started to shuffle his way through the throng as the prince and his father were announced, followed swiftly by Their Majesties and Princess Emma.

He was halfway across the room when the ceremony began, and the heavy weight of regret, knowing he was too late to do anything, pressed down upon him, keeping him rooted to his spot. His heart twisted painfully in his chest. He was about to lose her forever without having the chance to truly know her. He was a fool for wasting these past few months. A damned fool. All he could do now was watch as the prince and princess recited their vows while a fairy wove the betrothal bonds around them with her wand.

His heartache was quickly forgotten, however, when the final binding spell failed, leaving the betrothal void and eliciting a collective gasp from those assembled.

“I… I don’t understand,” the fairy stammered. “The magic should have worked. I… I don’t know what--”

“Clearly, you did something wrong, dearie,” the Dark One accused as he took a threatening step towards the young fairy.

“No,” Emma stated, stepping between her would-be father-in-law and the scared-out-of-her-wits fairy. “She didn’t. The magic failed to bind us, because…” Turning her attention back towards her would-be groom, Emma declared, “as I have told you numerous times, I have no intentions of marrying you. I don’t care about the deal our fathers made in order to end the war. My heart will never be yours, therefore no vows I make to love you will ever be true.”

Chaotic murmurs erupted throughout the ballroom, but Hook kept his focus on the dais.

“That matters not!” the Dark One shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Emma which made Hook’s hand itch for the hilt of his sword, unfortunately left behind on his ship. “Your feelings have no bearing and are not enough to void the betrothal spell.” Casting his ire upon King David and Queen Snow, he demanded, “Explain yourselves! We made a deal! You agreed to this betrothal on your daughter’s behalf. It is your word and your authority over her that binds that agreement, so why did it fail?”

Hook sucked in a startled breath. He knew why.

“I think I can answer that, and settle this matter,” he called out, causing all eyes to fall on him.

“And who might you be?” Prince Neal demanded.

“Captain Killian Jones,” he proclaimed, stepping forward as the crowd parted. “Though some have taken to calling me by my more colorful moniker.” Raising his left arm, he displayed his hook and a hysteria of murmurs further erupted amongst the crowd that was now cowering away from him.

David and Snow’s mouths dropped open and Liam, who had been standing by off to the side of the dais, rushed forward and took his place next to his sovereigns, a look of complete elation and shock coloring his aged face. The fairy fled, leaving Emma, Prince Neal, and the Dark One alone at the center of the raised platform, each of them staring at him with a variety of expressions.

“Hook!” Prince Neal exclaimed, before catching the eye of the many guards stationed along the walls. “Seize him!”

When none of the guards acquiesced to the command, an incensed and clearly alarmed Prince Neal sputtered, “W-Why are you all just s-standing there! Arrest him!”

“Oh, you must not be aware,” Hook said, swaggering his way towards the dais and stopping short of its steps. “You see, I have pardon in this land.”

Turning his incredulity and ire towards the King, Prince Neal opened his mouth, but was silenced by the quiet yet dangerous tone of the Dark One’s question.

“How, pray tell, do you plan to settle this matter, Captain?”

“By claiming that which was owed me the day I saved King David’s life and he vowed to honor me with a boon, dictated by the Law of Surprise.”

“A boon? What boon?” Emma demanded.

With confident, measured steps Hook made his way up to the top of the platform and stood in front of his princess, his body strategically placed between her and his new adversaries. His eyes captured hers and he knew they were crinkling in the corners as he smiled down at her.

“Don’t you know, Emma?” he murmured softly. “It’s you.”

Confusion and outrage flashed within her seaglass eyes and displayed themselves through each feature of her exquisite face. Though her reaction, not being what he’d hoped for, sliced through him, he could do nothing about that now, not when a fresh round of threats was being issued by the Dark One and his spawn.

“We had a deal!” the Dark One bellowed. “Your daughter’s hand in marriage to my son in exchange for me ending your war with George! You made a deal--”

“Which they have kept in good faith!” Hook roared, rounding on the imp and causing his son to stumble backwards. “They have prepared and presented the princess for betrothal, and Emma herself recited the vows, even as it went against everything she wished for herself. It is not their fault the fates did not bind the agreement. If you wish to lay declarations of war at anyone’s feet, then let it be mine, but I warn you…” Stepping closer, Hook loomed over the Dark One and in a timbre of hushed menace, he advised, “do so at your own peril.”

The Dark One’s eyes narrowed, perhaps sensing something about the man who stood before him that he had not registered before. Beside him, Prince Neal scoffed.

“Are we to be threatened by the likes of you? You are nothing but a filthy pirate.”

Hook grinned darkly and rocked back on his heels, tucking his thumb in his belt. “A few months ago I was nothing but a filthy pirate, but today,” hardening his expression, he declared, “I am Neverland’s King, and you do not want Neverland as your enemy.”

The Dark One visibly started, but the Prince merely snorted. “Neverland has no king.”

Keeping a calculating eye on the Dark One, Hook shrugged and addressed Neal with a casual air. “True. I never understood, with all his theatrics, why Pan had never outright declared himself king, but make no mistake…” The hard edge returned to his tone and countenance, “Pan ruled that island as a dictator king with an iron scepter and a crown of cruelty not even George could have dreamed of matching. Now that Pan’s dead,” the Dark One’s head snapped towards him, seemingly pulled from his thoughts with a number of questions swirling behind his dark gaze, “Neverland is under my rule. The island, its inhabitants, and…” Hook flicked his wrist and the entirety of the ballroom gasped when a jar of glittering dust appeared in his hand, “its magic. They all serve me now, so I say again. You do not want me as an enemy.”

Shrewdly, the Dark One scrutinized the jar in Hook’s hand, then inquired, “What, then, do you propose we do? The terms of the deal have not been met. I ended the war with King George. A debt is still owed.”

“Indeed,” Hook replied, holding out the jar towards the Dark One. “And I believe this canister of pixie dust is more than sufficient in settling that debt.” Hook pulled the jar back when the prince made an attempt to take it. “So long as you promise that accepting it means no further repercussions. Misthaven is safe from any further threats or acts of retaliation from you, and Emma is free to find love and happiness with whomever she chooses. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“Papa, no!” Prince Neal protested. “You can’t just--”

“I can, and I have,” the Dark One clipped in a tone of censure before snatching the jar from Hook’s hand. Addressing the King and Queen, he confirmed, “Our deal has been satisfied. My son and I will now take our leave, but heed this… do not call upon me for aid ever again.”

“We won’t,” King David assured him. His eyes cut to Hook’s, relief and gratitude swimming within their depths, but before he could make any further statements another round of gasps rippled through the ballroom as the Dark One and Prince Neal were enveloped in a plume of dark smoke and vanished.

A heavy exhale fell over Hook’s lips and he stood, frozen, in the gazes of his friends, his sovereigns, his brother, and… his Emma.

“It’s you,” she said, her expression and voice void of any inflection he could identify as her eyes seemed to look past him to that far off place he’d seen her subconscious go when they were alone before. “You’re… him. We’ve… we’ve met before.”

“Aye, Your Highness,” he hedged. Her demeanor and lack of response to all that had just transpired made him hesitant to push her too far, too fast. “Moments ago in the corridor--”

“No… no, that’s not. I mean…” Her eyes refocused on him with a mixture of awe, disbelief, and something that hadn’t quite made its way to the surface yet swirling through their verdant beauty as she whispered, “It’s you, isn’t it? The man from my… you’re him.”

“Him… who?”

“My pirate,” she exhaled, stunning Hook to his core as she lifted a chain that had been concealed beneath the high neck of her white gown. Dangling from the delicate links was a familiar looking pendant. The seashell he had gifted her - after she’d plucked it from his desk, the little thief - he realized. The far off look returned as she murmured, “Not a day has gone by that I have not thought of you.”

His heart swelling, Hook elated, “Good,” and took a step towards her. The action, like all his actions since he’d revealed himself, was not met with the response he’d been hoping for.

Taking several steps back from him, Emma rounded on her parents and shouted, “You lied to me! You made me think it was all in my head! You knew! You knew why I felt so… wrong, so deficient. So… broken. My entire life I’ve… You knew about him all this time and you never--”

“You mustn’t blame them, love,” Hook insisted. “It’s not their fault. I made your mother promise never to tell--”

“Perhaps we should take this discussion elsewhere,” Snow said, making them all acutely aware of their audience. The societal vultures practically circling in anticipation of the feast such morsels of scandal might provide.

“That won’t be necessary,” Emma seethed. “There won’t be any more discussion, because I’m not interested in anything any of you have to say!”

Hook gaped when she raised her hand, calling forth magic to transport her from the ballroom in a plume of white smoke.

“She has magic?”

“She’s the product of True Love. Of course she has magic,” the Blue Fairy replied with a terse and exasperated tone, having made her way onto the dais to address her sovereigns and offer her assistance. “Your Majesties, perhaps it would be best for you to withdraw with the… captain, whilst the other fairies and I tend to your guests?”

“Yes,” Snow agreed. “Thank you, Blue.”

Hook followed his sovereigns and brother to an adjoining room where they could converse and continue their reunion in private, though none of them seemed to know where to begin.

“I think I ought to go and check on Em--”

“No,” Hook said, cutting off Snow. “Leave her be. She’s had a terrible shock and no doubt needs some time to work out all that’s…”

They stood there awkwardly for a moment more until reality set in. They were here, together, reunited at last, and in a synchronized heartbeat they suddenly found themselves in a united embrace, laughing and crying tears of joy and relief at finally having the nightmare of separation behind them.

“Admit it,” Hook demanded of David, wiping the vestiges of his emotional release from his eyes. “You were hedging your bets when you made that deal with the Dark One. You suspected The Law of Surprise would void it when the time came, didn’t you?” Turning towards his brother, Hook surmised, “That’s why you wouldn’t let me relinquish my claim and bestow it upon you.”

Sheepishly, Snow admitted, “Blue was the one who suggested the idea. We could not be sure, though, given your… uncertain future under Pan’s rule.”

“Speaking of,” Liam chimed in. “However did you manage to defeat the little bastard?”

“It’s a bit of a sordid tale,” Hook told them. “And one I do not wish to relive in detail. Suffice it to say, I managed to gain a certain amount of trust with Pan, which allowed me close access to him. Revealing some of his weaknesses. One of them being… squid ink.”

Liam led them over to the settees and they all sat down as he remarked, “Squid ink is no easy substance to obtain.”

“Aye,” Hook affirmed. “Fortunately, whilst on one of my missions for Pan, I ran into a mermaid who wished to leave her life in the sea behind. In exchange for safe passage, and because she felt bad for nearly crashing my ship upon rocky shoals when she enchanted me with her siren song, she gave me the squid ink she’d stolen from her father’s vault. Tink and I used the ink to subdue Pan.” Fiddling with his hook, he cast his eyes towards the floor as he confessed, “My hook did the rest.”

“And Pan’s death gave you… magic?”

“Not exactly.” Hook pulled back the sleeve of his right arm, exposing the cuff secured to his wrist. “This does,” he said, tapping it with the side of his hook. “It was Pan’s. He was never without it. I learned that it tethered the Shadow to him, acting as a conduit to the island’s power which he could then bend to his will. At first, I had no desire for it, but its use became necessary in order for me to begin to set things right.”

Hook told them how he and Tink had spent the past few months: squashing rebellions from those on the island still loyal to Pan, learning about the island’s magic while working with the Shadow to restore balance to her shores, and returning those he’d brought there under Pan’s order against their will.

“There is still much to be done, but when I heard about Emma’s betrothal, I…” Not wishing to tell anymore half-truths, or admit that the news of her betrothal had not been enough without Tink’s prompting, he let his words trail off. He hadn’t shared with them his misgivings in returning, allowing them to believe these other distractions had been the reason for his delay, causing guilt to churn in his gut as he sat amongst them.

“Where is Tinkerbell?” Snow asked, perhaps sensing the shift in his demeanor.

“She remained behind in Neverland,” Hook replied. “Awaiting further orders.”

“Further orders?” David parroted. “What more could you ask of her?”

“Not from me,” Hook assured. “From Blue.” Glancing down at the cuff on his wrist, he imparted, “The island should go to the fairies. They are the only ones who can truly wield and balance its power. I have no wish to be its sovereign forever, but...”

“But?”

Hook sighed. “All magic comes with a price, and the price of using this cuff is that it cannot be removed unless both the wearer and the island agree to its removal.” A wry smile pulled at the corner of his mouth and he cheekily added, “or unless the wearer is dead and no longer has a say in the matter.”

“I don’t…” Liam floundered. “I don’t understand what you--”

“The island won’t let me relinquish my connection with its magic,” Hook said. “After Pan, I believe it finds me preferable and won’t risk falling into the wrong sort of hands again. My hope is that the fairies might be able to convince the island to free me of the obligation, which is one of the reasons Tink remained there. To continue working towards that end until reinforcements arrive.”

“Well,” Snow said, standing and causing the men to follow suit. “That is something we can certainly discuss in greater detail tomorrow. For now,” she turned to her husband and with a firm, yet regal, look, declared, “we really must return to our guests and assure them that all is well.”

“Of course,” David agreed. “You’re right. The gossip mill is no doubt having a field day and our allies deserve whatever reassurances we can give them.”

“My apologies for creating a spectacle.” Hook gave his sovereigns a chagrined and contrite look, but they quickly waved off his self-condemnation.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Snow assured him.

“Snow is right,” David asserted. “Without you, we’d likely be preparing for war with the Dark One. You saved us… again.”

Hook grinned and nonchalantly scratched behind his ear. “I imagine another boon might be in order then?”

David shot him a less than amused look. “I’m not granting you another Law of Surprise, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“Though we do not plan to have any more children, I agree with Charming,” Snow said, a hint of amusement coloring her words. “Once was more than enough.”

Hook sobered at the reminder of his Emma, and the mess he’d made of things between them.

“You owe me nothing,” he said. “It isn’t as though I’ve lived up to the last--”

“Enough of that,” Snow admonished. “I know things may not have gone as you’d hoped with Emma, but tomorrow is a new day. Let me have a room made up for you, and tomorrow we can all--”

“Thank you, Snow, but I think I’d rather return to my ship.” When Liam opened his mouth to protest, Hook assured him. “I’ll remain in port. I won’t leave without discussing the matter with you first, I just… I need…”

“Much has changed for you, too, little brother,” Liam acknowledged.

“Aye,” Hook admitted. “Freedom is not something I’ve had much practice with, and I’m still getting my bearings. Still trying to decide what I want to do with my life.”

“You know you always have a home here, right?” David said, placing a heavy hand upon his shoulder. “A place to belong.”

“I appreciate that, Your Majesty,” Hook said, hoping his eyes reflected just how much that fact meant to him. “But do you honestly think things can go back to how they would have been if you’d never sent us to Neverland? Or if we’d all managed to return from the accursed mission?”

David flinched and his features twisted into an expression of guilt and regret.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Hook said, now placing his own hand on his sovereign's shoulder. “I do not blame you. I have never blamed you, but let’s not pretend I can just take my place within your navy and serve as captain of one of your ships. For one, I am no longer a man who takes orders from others willingly, and two… what crew would wish to serve under the likes of me? A pirate. A blackguard.”

“No one is suggesting we pretend the past twenty years did not happen,” Liam said. “There is much to work out, much to resolve and decide upon. For you… and for Emma.”

David’s expression shifted and he now regarded Hook in a way the pirate had never experienced before. Not as his sovereign, nor as his friend, but as a father. A rather protective father. A protective father who might have just registered the charged interactions the pirate and his daughter had shared in the ballroom.

“Indeed,” the man said with a slightly hardened edge on his words. “Perhaps we should have a talk about your intentions with my daughter.”

“Charming,” Snow scolded, saving Hook from having to respond. “Now is not the time.” Squaring her shoulders and taking up her regal posture, the queen declared, “While these matters are all important and worthy of our time and thoughtful consideration, the more pressing issue awaits us in the ballroom.” Fixing her eyes on Liam, she continued, “David and I will need your diplomacy in dealing with our allies. You and the fairies are our ambassadors for the duration of the event.” Shifting her attention to Hook, she offered, “You are welcome to stay, however, it may be best if--”

“If it is all the same to you, Your Majesty,” Hook interrupted, “I think I’d prefer to take my leave for the evening and return to my ship.”

Giving him an acquiescing nod, Snow replied, “Very well. Let us all get through this evening and get ourselves as restful of a night’s sleep as we can. We will then reconvene tomorrow.”

“And Emma?” Hook inquired.

Snow and David shared a quick look of solidarity, then confirmed with a glance towards Liam before affirming, “We will leave her be, for now. As you requested.”

Their silent recognition and acceptance of his sovereignty in Emma’s life both relieved and disquieted him. He’d meant what he’d said to Tink about not being her lord and master, but he would not hesitate to advocate for her if he felt those around her were not acting in her best interest. She needed time. They both did.

“Then I shall bid you all a good night,” Hook said, not waiting for them to reciprocate before transporting himself back to the Jolly Roger in a swirl of crimson, in dire need of a refuge where he himself could process all that had come to pass this evening.

~/~

Hook’s jaw cracked from the wide yawn he released early the next morning, his body stiff and feeling its true age as he went about his normal routine, shuffling through his cabin in naught but his skin. He’d managed to pull on his leather pants, leaving them loosely tied around his waist, when he heard a voice drifting towards him from the dock.

“Ahoy! Captain, are you there?” a woman’s voice softly called out. From the tentative tone and reserved volume, he could tell she was trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible. It mattered not, though. He’d know that voice anywhere.

Hastily, Hook pulled on his shirt, a few of the buttons he kept fastened in the front slipped free from their closures, leaving his chest completely exposed. Forgoing his boots or even bothering to check the state of his hair, he rushed from his quarters and onto the deck, stopping short at the sight of his Emma standing atop the gangplank, just shy of the deck. The morning sun bathed her in an ethereal glow, silhouetting her form, which was adorned in her riding apparel, hugging her curves and highlighting her shapely legs in a way that had Hook glad he’d left his trousers loose.

Shaking those thoughts from his mind, Hook continued to approach her, only now taking in her observations of him. Rather wide-eyed and pinked cheeked observations, he noted with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Princess?” he said, pulling her from her own thoughts, his breath catching at the way she wet her lips before clearing her throat.

“I apologize for arriving so early and unannounced,” she said, straightening her posture before inquiring, “Permission to come aboard, Captain?”

Hook grinned and closed the space between them with swaggering steps, holding out his hand to assist her. “Permission granted, Your Highness.”

When her feet hit the boards of the deck they stood there for a long moment, her hand still tucked in his as she took in the sight of his ship. When her gaze lifted to the mainsail a shudder ran down her spine. Though he was unsure how much she remembered from that night long ago when she last stood there, Hook was certain he knew what had caused her response.

“I sent him back,” he assured her, his voice low and soft.

“Who?”

“The Shadow. He’s the reason the sail is typically black, but I won’t need him until it is time for me to return to…”

Sensing this topic made her uneasy, his words trailed off and she pulled her hand from his. Noises from further up the dock grabbed their attention momentarily and Hook caught sight of her horse hitched at one of the posts, alone.

“Did you come here unaccompanied?”

“Yes,” she replied, uneasiness once again taking hold of her tone and demeanor. “I hadn’t planned it. I was out for my morning ride, clearing my head when…” Looking about she asked, “Is there somewhere we could go? Somewhere more private where we might converse?”

“Of course,” he said, not faulting her for not wanting to be seen fraternizing with him. “Follow me, Your Highness.”

He led her to his quarters and stopped at the threshold, allowing her entrance as he hung back. A soft gasp fell from her lips.

“It’s… it’s just as I remembered,” she whispered under her breath, taking in every detail of his cabin. “I thought you were a dream,” she confessed, though he wasn’t certain she was actually talking to him, her gaze far away and her words almost murmured to herself.

“I thought the whole thing was a nightmare.” Her hands skimmed over the top of his desk, pausing at his hook which he’d failed to secure in his brace before going on deck. “The shadow that kidnapped me, the dark island, the glass cage, the boy…” Her eyes flicked up, meeting his as she continued in a whisper, “The pirate.” Wetting her lips, her gaze never wavered even if his did briefly drop down to her mouth. “You’re real. You were real all this time.”

“Aye.”

Picking up his hook, she turned it over in her hands. “This is the hook you used to attach yourself to the barrel? The one my mother later gifted you?”

“How did you know--”

Setting it down she leaned back against his desk and let out a heavy breath. “I talked with them last night,” she told him. “My parents. After the ball, I demanded they tell me everything.” Her gaze dropped for a moment, then her eyes snapped up to his, determination shining from their depths. His princess was on a mission for the truth. “Did you really not know of my existence until Pan had…”

“No,” he confirmed. “I had no idea the King and Queen had a child, nor that the child was the fulfillment of the Surprise your father had granted me until Pan kidnapped you.”

Nodding her head in acceptance of his word her demeanor shifted slightly, her shoulders relaxing and her gaze softening.

“I want to apologize for the way I behaved last night,” she said. “How I reacted when you…” Her contrite expression gave way to one tinged with anger as she continued. “The morning after Neverland, when I woke up, everyone acted as though it hadn’t happened. My being kidnapped. My parents insisted I had dreamt the whole thing, even Blue made me think I’d…” Her hands gripped the edge of his desk, her knuckles turning white as she continued to lean against it for support, and it took everything within him to not go to her and offer himself as an anchor for her feelings of hurt and betrayal. “My whole life I have been sheltered, not allowed to make decisions for myself, feeling as though something… vital was missing from my life, yet unable to seek it out. Made to feel as though I were mad, because of this dream that would not leave me.”

Swallowing hard, she glanced around his cabin once more before her eyes fell shut. A deep breath filled her chest, followed by a cleansing exhale. When she opened her eyes the anger was gone, but a sadness lingered. Hook would do anything to alleviate it, but he knew she was not finished. There was still so much she needed to work through, to process, to accept, and he would give her the space to do all of it.

“Last night,” she carried on, “when the betrothal bond failed, I truly thought it was because my vows had been a lie. I thought I was standing up to Neal and his father, taking control of my destiny for the first time in my life, only to discover my future was never my own to control, because of another agreement my father made before I was even born.”

Hook winced. “I am sorry, Princess. Truly.” Pushing off from the doorway where he’d been leaning against the jamb, Hook took a few steps into the cabin, stopping at the corner of his bunk. “It was never my intention to leave you feeling powerless or alone. If I could go back, I’d--”

“You don’t have to apologize,” she said, her voice sincere and her eyes full of forgiveness. “You had no way of knowing what the Surprise would be, and with what George did to my mother, who would have ever guessed? I don’t blame you for how my life--”

“You shouldn’t blame your father either, Your Highness,” Hook said in defense of his sovereign. “He had no way of knowing either, otherwise you would never have become my Surprise.”

“True.” She crossed her hands over her chest, a hardened expression once more tightening her features. “The blame belongs to Blue and my mother.”

“What?” Hook balked.

Meeting his gaze, she informed him, “Blue knew about the barrel. She saw it listed on the inventory that was taken when the Jewel made it back with the survivors. They must have put it in the hold when they fished it and you from the sea. Blue could not be sure it had not been corrupted, so she gave the water to my mother without her knowing. It wasn’t until weeks later, when my mother came to Blue worried that something was terribly wrong with her, that Blue confessed what she’d done. She told my mother it was still too early to know for certain and that she should wait to tell my father until she was further along, then later that very same day…”

“He granted me the Law of Surprise.”

“My mother knew he intended to reward you for your bravery and sacrifice, but said she had no idea it would be… Father said it hadn’t even occurred to him to grant it to you until the moment before he declared it. So, no. I do not blame my father.”

Stepping forward, Hook closed the gap between them and took her hand in his. “I will not tell you how you ought to feel, Princess. I just urge you to not let anger and blame linger in your heart for too long. I know what it is like to let such emotions fester, letting darkness creep in and take root in your spirit, giving it a foothold in your soul. Learn from my mistakes, love. Resist it.”

“Why couldn’t you?”

Running his thumb over the back of her knuckles, he softly imparted, “For many years during my first deal with Pan, I didn’t think I had anything to live for. The demon made me a pirate and I became a villain, unworthy of association with people like your parents or my brother. I had resigned myself to a life of exile and wasn’t certain I’d even return to Misthaven, until…”

“Until… what?”

“Until I met you.” How he wished he still had his other hand so he could take both of hers in his grasp, instead, he settled for threading their fingers together. “I wanted to be a better man for you, Princess. I knew Pan would still require a villain, but I was determined to defeat him by any means necessary so that I could take back my own power and control my own destiny.”

“So… what now?” she asked, a soft tremble quaking through her words.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” she wet her lips, trying her best to hide her trepidations. “Your expectations. You said you returned in order to claim that which--”

“I said all that in an attempt to stop a war from brewing, and so you might be freed from a deal you never wished to be a part of,” he quickly assured her. “I know all too well the perils of making deals with demons, and it is a fate I would not wish upon anyone, least of all you.” Hook lifted their hands and cradled hers against his chest. “I have no expectations of you, love. I only wish to… to try and make up for lost time. To get to know you and have you get to know me. Fate may very well have its own plan, but as far as I’m concerned, whatever we become to one another is as much up to you as it is to me.”

A smile curled at the corners of her lips. “I’d hoped I hadn’t made that up about you,” she said. “I am glad to know you are, indeed, a man of honor and good form… just as I remembered you to be.”

Hook cocked his head to one side, his brows furrowed as he asked, “If you’ve always remembered the kidnapping, then why did you not recognize me in the alcove last night?”

“My memories weren’t… detailed,” she told him. “More like fragments. Impressions.” Looking past him, she began to call forth some of those memories. “I remembered you were a pirate. I remembered the silver fastenings of your waistcoat and the fact that you had dark hair, and I remembered… your eyes. They were probably the most vivid thing about you that I remembered.” Flicking her gaze up to his, she went on to say, “The truth of a person can always be found in their eyes.” Dipping her head, she demurred, “I’ve always been pretty good at knowing when someone is lying to me. It’s always in the eyes. I knew, from the moment I looked into yours, that I could trust you. That you were telling the truth about taking me home. Your eyes told me I’d be safe with you.” Locking her eyes with his, she wistfully admitted, “I’ve thought about your eyes so many times over the years.”

Her cheeks reddened and she suddenly could not meet his gaze. Hook wondered what other thoughts she might have had about her dream pirate as she grew older, but held back from making a saucy quip, allowing her to move past him towards his bookcase. Truth be told, he could do with a bit of space between them as well.

“My parents tell me that though you are finally free of Pan, there are still loose ends for you to tie up in Neverland.” Distracting herself she focused her attention on the contents of his shelves, picking through the books and lifting the lids on a few of the boxes. “Once that is done, what do you intend to do with your newfound freedom?”

“Honestly?” Hook exhaled heavily. “I’m not sure.” A tinkling melody filled the room when she lifted the top of what turned out to be a music box, hastily letting it fall shut before turning apologetic eyes towards him.

“Sorry,” she muttered, running her hands down the front of her riding jacket before clasping them in front of herself. “You were saying?”

Hook chuckled, then sobered a bit when he remembered what he was about to reveal. “I was saying, I’m not sure what I’ll do once my duty to Neverland is complete. I would like to return to Misthaven, I just… I’m not certain I have a place here any longer.” Fiddling with a few of the items on his desk, he added, “Of course, there are people here whom I wish to build relationships with.”

“Like your brother?”

“Aye,” he replied, lifting his gaze towards her. “Among others.” He paused, hoping she knew she was at the top of those considerations. “I have missed so much, and while I realize he is now old enough to be mistaken as my father, Liam is the only family I have left.” They both shared a quick laugh over that observation before he declared, “I do not want to miss any more of his life, or anyone else’s of importance to me.

Emma hummed, her eyes cast down towards her feet, perhaps unable to meet his gaze because of the intensity of it. “I’d imagine you’d want the chance to get to know his wife and your nephews as well.”

Her words rocked Hook to his core. “What?”

Emma’s head snapped up, her eyes widening and her jaw dropping from the realization. “I’m so sorry! I thought… I thought you knew!”

Hook slumped down on the edge of his bed, a new sense of melancholy and injustice washing over him as he ran his hand through his hair and pulled at the strands in the back. “How long has he… how old are his… why did he not…”

“They’ve been married almost ten years, and have two sons. Her name is Belle and she’s…”

Emma paused when Hook buried his face in his hand. So much time wasted. The toll of the years Pan had stolen from him never seemed to cease in its increase.

The sound of the music box filled his cabin once more, prompting Hook to look up from his sorrows. Tentatively, Emma approached.

“I wish there was something I could do about the time that was taken from you and your brother. I wish I had words of wisdom or answers that might guide you towards what’s next, but I don’t. All I can do in this moment is… make good on a promise I gave you last night.”

Confused, Hook could only stare at her, until she clarified, “I believe I owe you a waltz?”

Hook huffed out an amused breath. Reaching up he pawed at the patch of skin behind his ear and confessed, “I know I instigated that, but truth be told… I haven’t danced a waltz in over twenty years.”

“Well,” she replied, clearly not letting him off the proverbial hook. “Good thing for you there is only one rule.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet before wrapping his braced arm around her waist. Taking his hand in hers she flicked up her gaze and murmured, “Pick a partner who knows what they’re doing.”

She took the lead until muscle memory returned, then Hook glided them around his cabin, holding her close and marveling at how she’d been able to pull him from his sulliness with such a simple act of kindness.

His Emma was a marvel, to be sure.

“Do you, Princess?” he asked, causing her brows to pinch together as her head tilted to one side. “Do you know what you’re doing?” he clarified, his voice low and hushed, wanting to keep the moment tender despite the question burning at the back of his throat. “What you are going to do now that the threat of Pan and your obligation to marry Prince Neal has been lifted?”

Chewing her lip, she gave the inquiry her considerations before drawing closer to him. Moving her hand from his shoulder to toy with the back of his neck, she sent a cascade of shivers down his spine as she addressed his question with one of her own.

“Did you know that other than the night I was taken to Neverland, this is the furthest I have even been from the castle?”

That piece of information shocked him, though he knew it should not have. Her existence had been kept a secret for the first half of her life because of George, and the threat of Pan had kept her parents cautious for the past decade. Fear had made his sovereigns hypervigilant with their greatest treasure, so no, it should not have surprised him that they’d kept her close to home, safe behind the castle walls, never straying from the grounds.

“I have never left these shores. Never seen the beauty or experienced the culture of other realms, or met anyone who wasn’t thoroughly vetted by my parents.” Wetting her lips, her eyes fell to the charms hanging around his neck, but Hook knew her gaze was far away once again. “I know I have a duty and obligation to my kingdom, my people, and my parents, but…”

“But?”

Glancing back up with a slight expression of guilt pulling at her features, she murmured, “I can't help but wonder if my brother, Leo, was the fates way of allowing me to… That is… I know I should not wish to burden him unnecessarily, it’s just that--”

“Where would you go first?” Hook asked, still swirling them around his cabin, maneuvering their bodies with the same ease in which he attempted to change the course of their conversation. “If you had the means to go anywhere, where would you go first?”

“Neverland.”

Her quick and unexpected reply had him stopping them in their tracks. “Neverland? Why?”

Once again, she worried her lip, her breath hitching shallowly in her chest. “As much as I long to see the world, the memory of the one time I left Misthaven still haunts me,” she said, her voice a tad unsure at first, though it gained a sense of certainty and resolve as she continued on. “I want to go back so I can face it. So I can put the fear it has held over my life behind me, once and for all.”

When she flicked her gaze up to his, something new stirred within those seaglass depths and the effect of it seemed to hum between them, electrifying the atmosphere of his cabin.

“I want to see what sort of place it is now. With Pan gone. I want to know how it has fared under your rule. How it’s changed due to your influence and direction.” Swaying closer to one another, she was practically a hair’s breadth away when she murmured, “I want to see it for myself in the hopes that…”

“That what?”

Her eyes fell to his mouth and his pulse quickened.

“That it proves that I am… not wrong about you.”

It took his mind several skips of his heartbeat to register the feel of her lips against his, but once it did, instinct took over. His braced arm pressed into the small of her back, bringing her even closer to him, their chests nearly touching with the only obstacle between them being her hand. Her fingers curled through his chest hair, pulling a groan from the back of his throat that vibrated against her lips as his own slanted across them. Threading his fingers through her hair, he wrapped his hand around the base of her skull so he could position her head to his liking, deepening the kiss and coaxing her lips apart with his tongue.

The taste of her was captivating. He could spend the rest of his life drinking her in yet never be satisfied, always wanting more, always needing more… of her. Just her. His Emma.

However, now was not the time for more, and from the gentle, yet insistent, press of her hand against his chest, it was evident that his princess was not ready for what could come next if they continued down this path of passion.

“That was…” he whispered against her lips, chasing them without thought.

“Destiny?” She giggled, her nerves and inexperience quivering through her laugh.

Brushing his nose against hers, he loosened his hold, creating some space between them while assuring her, “As I said before, I have no expectations of you, no expectations for what might happen between us or what we might come to mean to one another. Only… only hope and a promise.”

“What promise would that be?”

“I promise to do whatever it takes to win your heart, Princess. I promise, that for as long as it pleases you, I’ll be here, at your service.” Taking her hand in his, Hook vowed, “I will take you to Neverland, and any other realm you wish to see. I will remain by your side, even if, one day, it is only to stand in support of my future queen.”

“What about Liam?” she said, clearly overjoyed by the prospects he’d laid out whilst harbouring some guilt that their fulfillment would take him away from his brother.

“My brother will be here whenever we choose to return,” he comforted. “Besides… he has his own life to live, and whether he chooses to acknowledge it or not, he’s been shouldering a duty and responsibility he was never meant to carry.”

“Are you suggesting I’ve been burdensome to your brother?” Her tone was laced with offense, but it was betrayed by the teasing expression she could not keep from her features.

“Oh, yes,” he cheeked back, winding his arms around her waist. “Quite the burden you are. How will I ever bear being bonded by the fates to Your Highness?”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, running her palms up his chest then wrapping her arms around his neck. “Perhaps, you could start by calling me by my name, Captain.”

“As you wish… Emma,” he obliged on an exhale.

She graced him with a smile, then asked, “And you? How may I address you? Or do you prefer Captain?”

He wouldn’t deny the pleasure it gave him, hearing her call him Captain, and he was about to make a tawdry statement attesting to that fact when his eye caught a glimpse of his hook, still sitting atop his desk.

“Call me…” he said, his voice choked and barely able to utter the name he’d long abandoned. “Killian. Please, Emma. Call me Killian.”

“Killian.”

The sound of his name on her breath shot a thrill of wonder up his spine. His lips crashed against hers and they both surrendered to the destiny fate had planned for them long ago.

Which, honestly, should not have come as a… surprise.

Thank you all for going on this journey with me! I hope you enjoyed the ride!

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)

@paradiselady19 @aprilqueen84 @kmomof4 @mie779 @donteattheappleshook @stahlop @anmylica @undercaffinatednightmare @zaharadessert @karl0ta @booksteaandtoomuchtv @courtorderedcake @superchocovian @pirateherokillian @ultraluckycatnd @jennjenn615 @the-darkdragonfly @jonesfandomfanatic @wyntereyez @xarandomdreamx @teamhook @winterbaby89 @justanother-unluckysoul @whimsicallyenchantedrose @badwolfreturns @deckerstarblanche @tiganasummertree @jrob64 @resident-of-storybrooke @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda @youherotype @kday426 @snowbellewells @alexa-fangirl-forever @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @unworried-corsair @justanotherflailgirl @sals86 @natascha-ronin @livykatelin00-blog @jackieorioncat @annep1 @ilovemesomekillianjones @soniccat @youplaylikeagirl @th3capta1n @cocohook38 @zippoluv @bizquake

#cs ff #cs fic #csff #csfic #cs au #captain swan #captain duckling #the law of surprise #cssns23 #words by hollye

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cs-rylie · 9 months

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Let's spread some love 😘. What are some of your top five favourite cs fics?

Five?! I guess I can give you five.. (plus a few extras..) I pick the ones I reread the most as my "top five favorites", which is the best way I know how to narrow this down, but I'm not convinced I have a favorite or a top 5. There are far too many good reads in the CS community!

My picks below the line - links are for ao3

I couldn't find everyone on tumblr, so PLEASE let me know their tumblr tags if you know them! Such amazing writers, the lot!

1. Unbreakable - xHookenonKillianx

I reread the epilogue, just by itself, quite frequently. It's so beautiful. As soon as I forget the meaning of certain details in it, I reread this fic, which usually amounts to once a year.

2. The Legend of Captain Killian Jones - hollyeleigh @hollyethecurious

Ooph I love when someone manages to bring pirate-from-the-18th-century Killian to a modern AU. I just love how all the details add up and how they fall in love and how Henry is as much a part of the story as CS. I reread this every October. (often once again when winter appears over, too)

3. Alone, until I get home - phthalo @peglegjones

I think I need to reread this [again] to give it accurate praise, because my memory SUCKS, but Henry and Ian's dynamic is one aspect I remember well, and appreciate. It's so hard to write kids and keep them relevant in a story and she does this sooo well. And the little bits of magick.. that made my heart swell. I don't wanna spoil anything..

4. How you remind me - cosette141 @cosette141

Any fic that can do it better than canon deserves praise. This is canon divergence from Killian showing up in New York, and the whole thing is my new head canon for the show.

5. Second star to the right - only_halfway_there

This was different than most CS fics, and I suspect it's because this was written before we got a lot of CS in the show? But that just means this author used her creativity, making a different Neverland, a different version of Hook, and the whole thing is so unique and beautiful.

This one is incomplete, hence it's spot here at #6, but I'll never give up on it being completed one day. A ton of people from the past show up in the present all at once, including one Pirate Captain Killian Jones. (Again.. pirate-from-the-18th-century Killian in a modern AU..)

Bonus, 6. A place in time - twistedroses @swanslieutenant

(feel free to send me more pirate-from-the-18th-century Killian fics.. no I don't have a problem!)

Now for the rest. I've reread most of these, but again ONLY FIVE?! These are not in any order, except the order I found them in my document. Again, lmk any missing tumblr names so I can tag these amazing writers!

Dark Grey - colormyheartred @cutieodonoghue

With affection - PhiraLovesLoki @phiralovesloki

Devastation and Healing - jrob64 @jrob64

More than all the stars - colormyheartred @cutieodonoghue

Beastly - xHookedonKillianx

Catch me if you can - LetItRaines @let-it-raines

A hard man is good to find - wtvoc @this-too-too-sullied-flesh

The convenient groom - @searchingwardrobes

A fairytale beginning - PocketAnon @pocket-anon

For the sake of Henry - jrob64 @jrob64

A band of grass and crown of flowers - hollyeleigh @hollyethecurious

only five my left foot *grumble grumble*

#cs library #captain swan #killian jones #emma swan #once upon a time #ouat #fanfiction #emma x killian #killian x emma #fanfic #ao3 #cs #captain swan fanfiction #rylie recs

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kmomof4 · 9 months

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Anon Ask That Tumblr Wouldn't Let Me Post

Ohhhhhhh my, nonnie!!!! As all the other respondents to this ask have said before me, this was HARD!!!!

My top three fics- that I reread the most, at least once a year- those were easy...

Dark Hook Comes to Storybrooke by @hollyethecurious and @winterbaby89

Fairytales by @kymbersmith-90

And the Swan-Jones Trio Unlocked series, and now in addition to the SJT, I've added the Swan-Jones Family fic, Cross Every Line by @totheendoftheworldortime

But beyond these fics, there are SO MANY that I LOVE SO MUCH, it is LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE to narrow it down.

So instead of trying, I'm gonna go down my list of authors I read the most and give you my favorite of their fics... Ready?

@artistic-writer Alii Dimidium Lunam, but only because she wrote it for me, I dreamt about it before it was written, and it was a big part of the inspiration for the CSSNS way back in '17...

@jrob64 Sowing Seeds of Trust

@snowbellewells for Marta, I truly could not choose, so I'm going with her latest fic, Deluge written for this years CSSNS

@whimsicallyenchantedrose Taking Back Neverland

@zaharadessert After much waffling and indecisive hand wringing, I think I'm gonna have to go with Halloween Gambit...

@motherkatereloyshipper Lost Girl: Found

@nachocheese-itsmycheese Darkness Will Be Rewritten

@cosette141 Begin Again series

@deckerstarblanche A Twist of Fate

@the-darkdragonfly The Ripple Effect series

@donteattheappleshook More

@elizabeethan Never Nothing series

@goforlaunchcee Waning Moon

@caught-in-the-filter Sharing the Joy

@thepirateandhisson Once Upon a Mama Mia

@xarandomdreamx The Curse of Misthaven Manor

@ohmakemeahercules I Knew I Loved You

@jonesfandomfanatic Meeting Your Needs

@teamhook The Wolf and the Savior

@mie779 Fragmented Lies

@sailtoafarawayland Fallen and Wanting series

@cs-rylie Irish Betrothal

@spartanguard Even Death Won't Part Us Now

@hookedonapirate Tangled Up in Blue

@iamstartraveller776 The Nightwalker Chronicles

@undercaffinatednightmare Once Upon a Shapeshifter

@booksteaandtoomuchtv Have to go with her brand new one for this year's CSSNS, Witchy Woman, because even though there's only one ch so far, I know it will be checking every single one of my boxes, so... there it is...

@searchingwardrobes Hope Is the Thing With Feathers

@grimmswan Orchid Island

@stahlop Making a Memory

@shireness-says A Fate Woven in Thread and Ink

@exhaustedpirate post mortem

@wyntereyez Squid Pro Quo

@eddisfargo Not a Day Will Go By

@kazoosandfannypacks Window Seat

@kazoo5480 Breaking Down

@anmylica Something About December

@veryverynotgoodwrites Perilous Harbor

@beckettj The Huntsman

@athenascarlet It's Complicated

@myfearless-love Untie My Silhouette

@ohmightydevviepuu (if I fall asleep) the shadows win

@killiansprincss A Court of Vines and Shadow

@hufflepuffinstorybrooke If You're Lucky, Love Leaves Scars

Those above are all at least still semi-involved in fandom, on Tumblr or on discord, even if they haven't necessarily written or updated anything in a while. Tumblr is being ornery, so I'm going to have to cut a few fics from this list and the fics from authors that have either moved on from CS fandom or RL has taken over. So I'll put those on another post in a few minutes... hopefully.

Update- Well, it did work, but just so all the recs can be found on the same post,

Here

Is the link to the Tumblr post with the rest of the recs!!!

#anon ask #that Tumblr wouldn't let me post #favorite fics

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kylo-wrecked · 9 days

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SHIPPING INFO:// Answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog

REPOST. DON'T REBLOG

*~Fair warning, unreliable munarrator~*

What’s your OTP for your Muse(s)?

I don’t have fandom OTPs (though I do have ships I favor over others). As such, I don’t have true rp OTPs. I understand this isn’t the norm… my condolences.

To jump on the… no, PULL, the bandwagon, like a mule, I say… *chin-hands* I cherish all the ships you see here, from the familial to the romantic to the sadistic (currently active or not). Since I enjoy a variety of dynamics, I feel very lucky to have the muns and friends who’ve taken the time to write with me, especially over this last year.

What are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?

I like to feel things out through the writing and let the ships sail organically and perhaps also majestically along the Aegean... or straight into Charybdis; it depends. When the writing works, I find we’ll inevitably have conversations about where we want to set our sails. When in doubt or with a new mun, I try to follow your lead. Pre-establishing ships are something we have to discuss and plot.

I don’t partake in pregnancy threads, nor do I read them. No exceptions.

How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?

Mun can take or leave age gaps. The muse… In default aus, Modern!/Music!Ben’s around 30-34, and as (self conscious) public figures, I’m not sure either would date under 28. But Music!Ben is Music!Ben. Ex-Con!Ben is 34+ and, at any rate, would much rather any romantic interest be at least around his age.

I move all over Dark!Ren’s timeline. Sometimes he’s he’s a 40-something-year-old cyborg who absorbed all his knights and roams wild space for fresh meat. Sometimes, he’s a deranged 25-year-old still-kind-of-a-kid on a leash holding a bunch of other deranged kids on leashes. His primary interest is the Ren. You do the math.

Are you selective when shipping?

Romance/sensual/sexual: Yes and no. No, because I like to ship. Yes, because consent, communication, compatibility, and chemistry are what make a ship fly. (Quadruplex, bitch!) We’re not getting to That Side of Neverland on nothing but pixie dust. 💅

Familial/platonic: Trick question, we still have to have the four Cs.

As a side note on romantic ships, so long as we keep things PG-13/fade to black, we don’t have to talk all the time or often. We can sail side by side in silence while our muses figure things out.

How far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NSFW?

‘S’all about the motion of the ocean, na mean? If it gets kinky and implicit, we can keep it on the blog. If it gets kinky and explicit, we whisk it off to Discord. This only happens if we have a bond. This has been a PSA…

Who are other muses you ship your muse with?

My muse has as many connections as I can write/keep up with. They can be seen right here on kylo-wrecked.tumblr.com for free! Read more—no jk.

There is invariable potential.

@etoilebleu, @itmeanspeace, @ifyoucatchacriminal, @lastxdragon, @silverjetsystm, @valkxrie, @brooklynislandgirl, @nightmarefuele , @mayxthexforce , @chromium-siren , @smokinmirrors are some muns I ship with romantically. Sometimes, the ships are in a questionable state. Sometimes, they're toxic. Sometimes the ships are made out of lies. Sometimes, they're not even ship-shaped; who knows? They all have flags, and the flags flap proudly.

Famships with @desireandduty and @shadowedlights (exploring with @mnolith / @destincd).

Muses my variants are still getting to know (because I am slow, etc.): @bewitchingbaker, @smolcuriouskitten, @corinnebaileyrp, @southern-belle-outcasts (Nilza), @protectmypeople (lol).

Come one, come all.

Does one have to ask to ship with you?

Gone corporate: let’s have a quick check-in to see whether we’re aligned.

How often do you like to ship?

Gone automation: I’m sorry, I didn’t get that. Please try again later. *dial tone*

Are you multiship?

Yes, and as many muns have said before me, I ship across verses. Picture it: me on a good day, potentially you, shipping across the universe…

Are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less?

More-or-less. I’m here for juicy writing of all types.

What is your favorite ship in your current fandom?

I’m a near-fandomless sham. Something broke in me, idk. I can think of the most erotic scene I’ve seen in a movie in quite some time, but it’s controversial and doesn’t belong here teehee.

Finally, how does one ship with you?

We write a little. We talk a little. The rest we’ll make up as we go along. I don’t love plotting myself into corners when the sea we write on is fluid. Feels weird, man.

tagged by: my @brooklynislandgirl

tagging: thief it and tag me

#ooc #just another manic munday #about the mun #{when you can't sleep; meme}#{i need to either remember or create an additional tag for posts like these lol}

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cssns · 10 months

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Let's keep the ball rolling with our amazing artists. Please help us welcome @piinfeathers to CSSNS23!

What’s your Tumblr?

@piinfeathers on tumblr, stephsketched everywhere else, plus just steph is also good!

How long have you been in the CS/OUAT fandom?

since 2021

When did you start shipping Captain Swan?

literally the second killian jones started getting it baaad for emma swan in season two. by neverland i was totally hooked

What drew you to this event?

this is my second year doing this event and it's definitely my favourite! i just love seeing emma and hook in fantasy settings, it suits them so well

What inspired your topic?

unfortunately i'm probably not doing personal art this year, unless something magical happens you never know!

For our artists: What kind of art do you like to do? Picsets, painting, digital, etc? Feel free to give as much info as you like.

i'm a digital artist and work mostly with an illustrative/cartoony style thanks to my background in animation. i love trying to capture emma and killian with a sort of fun and soft energy that feels like they're in their own animated movie

What are you looking forward to most about participating in this event?

i just love seeing everyone's work! having a new short snippet of captain swan as werewolves or faeries to look forward to every day is a highlight of my summer <3

I absolutely adore Steph's artwork and I know she's going to do amazing work for @goforlaunchcee's story, dropping on July 7th. Please drop by her page to say hi and welcome her to the event!

#GTKM #CSSNS23 #piinfeathers #gtkm interview

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snowbellewells · 24 hours

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Happy Happy Birthday Jennifer!! @whimsicallyenchantedrose

So, while I wasn’t able to write you a brand new birthday story this year, I thought it might be fun to highlight my all-time favorites of your stories. You were the first fandom friend I met and interacted with, we talked the show and plot points and character development together, and you helped me begin to navigate Tumblr back when I first joined. It’s been a gift to know you all that time, and your writing is a gift to us all! You’ve written so many GREAT stories that it was hard to narrow down, but I have settled on my top half dozen at last to highlight for your special day -- with some cover art for a few of them!!! 💖 Hope this gift serves to remind you of all you’ve written and created and how much all of it - and you!! - are loved. 🥰

The Strongest Magic - This short MC is one of your very early works - a Neverland season 3a divergent tale, but where it diverges gives us powerful adventure and emotion, sacrifice, and much earlier admission and acceptance of the love between our Pirate and Princess. I simply adore it - it squeezes your heart for sure, but it also wraps you up in a wonderful happy ending by the time you are finished.

A Wish Your Heart Makes , Getting to I Do & Mysterious Fathoms Below - This series of longer, connected multi-chapters (The "By Land or By Sea" trilogy) is simply EPIC!!! I don't know how to sing the praises of this story half as much as it deserves. There's adventure in the Enchanted Forest, Camelot, and even under the sea! There's so much beautiful love story for CS (and even some lovely, redemptive Outlaw Queen as well), and @whimsicallyenchantedrose even incorporates some unexpected and perfectly cast characters of myth and legend and her own creation alongside our faves. I don't want to give too much away, but these stories MUST BE read! Once you do, you'll want to read them over and over again.

Happily Ever After - This short MC was originally part of your Fluffy Fridays compilation, and I have often revisited the few chapters of this on their own and definitely think of them as their own little stand-alone story. I love the family recipes, the competition, the rivalry that becomes something much sweeter.... it's a truly delicious addition to your collection of writing!

Caribbean Shores - This lovely little MC reads more like a modern day AU, though they are in Storybrooke and many of our favorite characters still appear. I love the cute sweetness of this one, and the adorable addition of a few scheming cuties from MM's class when she takes them for a field trip tour of the Jolly Roger from Killian. ;) All the sizzle and attraction is there for Emma and Killian right from the start, and though she tries to resist (Why is she always so stubborn?!?) She can't do it for long...

Under the Apple Tree - It's hard to even express how much I adore this fic originally written between season six and season seven of canon. The way @whimsicallyenchantedrose wove in what we knew might be coming in season seven and then supposed what still could happen (a lot of which I would have loved to really see!) is simply brilliant. I love the relationships explored and the way the plot unfolds. It's a special and unique version of our beloved characters, and of course the unstoppable power of Captain Swan to always find each other again is fully on display too! ;p

Until the Stars are all Alight - Wow, this story must have been such a daunting task to undertake - one I would have been afraid to tackle, but the skill with which the OuaT world and the LotR world are woven together, how the plotlines come together and reach fruition, and how the characters coincide for best use so seamlessly is truly admirable and just adds to the depth and power of this full multi-chapter adventure. It has heart and hope and True Love conquering all - all the best things we love so much from the world of fairy tales and the brain of J.R. R. Tolkien!

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 5 months

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Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 2: A Christmas Miracle (2/3)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t! One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia. A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns. So here you go! Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: G

Word Count: 1197

Other chapters: 1 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Note: This is chapter two of my 2013 story A Christmas Miracle. It was written just before the end of the Neverland arc and it fits within my “A Wish Your Heart Makes” universe. References to curses and Camelot refer to that verse!

Hook adjusted the collar of his leather coat and then stepped from the hallway into Granny’s dining room. The chamber had been utterly transformed. A huge pine tree decorated with brightly colored lights, tinsel and hundreds of ornaments took up an entire corner. Red and green streamers, sprigs of holly and huge paper snowflakes adorned the wall and ceiling. Several small tables had been pushed together to form one long table elaborately set for nine.

As he sauntered into the room, Hook looked over the gathered assembly. Baelfire stood with Belle and the Crocodile, talking and laughing. Belle gazed adoringly up at the Crocodile, and he raised a hand to tenderly stroke her face. Hook waited for the familiar burning hatred to steal over him at the sight of his erstwhile enemy, but it never came. For that matter, it hadn’t come in quite some time. When had he given up the last vestiges of his vengeance?

Hook looked past Snow and Charming, busy with last minute preparations, to Emma and her lad who stood talking and laughing near the booths. Suddenly he knew exactly when his hatred for the crocodile had vanished. It was the moment he had finally let go of Milah’s memory, the moment he had fallen deeply, passionately, irretrievably in love with Emma Swan.

The lass was beautiful this evening. She wore an ice-blue tea-length gown and a matching lacy bolero sweater. Her golden hair was swept up at the sides and fell in riotous curls down her back. Hook didn’t think he’d ever seen her in formal attire, and the effect nearly stole the breath from his lungs.

As though feeling his gaze, Emma looked up and caught his eye. She colored slightly at the look he gave her, and then dropped her eyes. Hook sighed and walked forward toward his lady and her lad. Would he ever succeed in scaling that well-fortified fortress that she had built around her heart?

“Hook!” Henry called joyfully when the pirate was a few feet away. “I didn’t know you were coming too!”

Hook grinned and tousled the boy’s hair. “Aye lad; that I am.”

“Cool!” Henry beamed at him. Hook had spent quite some time with the lad during their last adventure, and he found he genuinely enjoyed the boy’s company. It gratified him that Emma’s son seemed glad to see him as well.

The diner door opened, and Regina stepped in, brushed the snow from her dark hair, and shrugged out of her coat.

“Mom!” Henry called, walking over to the queen.

Hook looked back at Emma, and she looked suddenly shy.

“You’re stunning, love,” Hook said with a soft smile. Emma’s blush grew.

“But then again,” he continued, his grin turning wicked, “I’ve no doubt you would be stunning in whatever you wore…or didn’t wear.”

She rolled her eyes at that, but he noticed she couldn’t quite stop the grin that spread over her lips.

“Please,” she said, “You are so full of it, Hook.”

His grin was pure pirate. “Full of charm, charisma, astonishingly good looks?” he drawled. “Aye lass; that I am.”

She laughed and playfully shoved his shoulder. He caught her hand and brought it to his lips. He was making headway, he knew it. He was starting to see a slight crack in that wall of hers.

“Ok, everyone,” Snow called from the table where she had just placed a fragrant, steaming turkey, “dinner’s ready.”

“Shall we?” Hook asked, gesturing with his hook.

Emma nodded and Hook followed her to the table. She took a seat next to Henry, and Hook seated himself on her other side. The Charmings had procured a veritable Christmas feast complete with turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables and cranberry sauce. Hook’s mouth watered at the delicious aromas. He suddenly remembered it had been hours since his last meal.

At the head of the table, Charming stood and tapped his wine glass with a knife.

“I would like to propose a toast,” he said, encompassing the whole group with his gaze. “It has been a rough year for all of us. We’ve dealt with difficulties, setbacks, danger, and heartbreak.”

Charming glanced at Regina, and the queen dropped her eyes. Hook felt a surge of pity for the woman. She had found Robin Hood, her true love, in the Enchanted Forest, and it looked like she would finally get her happy ending. Then they had found a way back to Storybrook…a way that couldn’t include Robin Hood and his little son. Hook knew all too well what it felt like to be separated from the one you love.

“But it has been a good year, as well,” Charming continued. “We’ve faced our challenges, and we’ve overcome them. We’ve succeeded in breaking not only one, but two curses, and we’ve succeeded in rescuing Henry from one of the most evil villains in any realm. Through it all, we’ve come to be a family. We’ve been able to put aside our grievances, our difficulties, even our hatred and work together toward some pretty difficult goals.”

Charming raised his glass higher and once more swept his gaze over the entire assembly. “So I ask you to raise your glasses. To family and friends and all those we love!”

Hook got to his feet with everyone else and raised his glass filled with ruby-red wine. Clinking his glass against Emma’s, he looked into her eyes. He held her gaze as he repeated “To family and friends and all those we love!”

Emma’s heart raced. She should look away, turn in the other direction, anything. But she simply couldn’t do it. His blue eyes were simply mesmerizing. That look on his face! What was she to do? There was no denying the attraction she felt toward him. After their kiss in Neverland, she couldn’t even pretend to herself that he meant nothing to her.

But he was a pirate! He flirted with anything in skirts. How could she possibly believe that he loved her and would fight for her? How could she let her guard down enough to give her heart to another man?

Besides, she was the savior, and, well, it seemed that meant she didn’t get her happy ending. She ensured everyone else had a chance at a happy ending, but it wasn’t in the cards for her. Hadn’t everything that had happened over the last few months proved that? As soon as one crisis ended another began.

“Uh, mom?” she heard Henry ask from her side.

The spell was broken; she was finally able to tear her gaze from Hook’s. Looking around, she saw that every single person at the table was seated but her and her pirate…and every single eye was on them. For the love of all that was holy, what was wrong with her? She dropped hastily to her seat and drained her glass of wine.

“You don’t happen to have an extra flask on you?” she asked Hook in a low voice.

“No, love,” he answered, laughter in his voice.

“Shame,” she said ruefully, “I have a feeling I’m going to need a whole lot of alcohol before this night is over.”

NEXT CHAPTER-->

#christmas reruns 2023 #cs fanfiction #captain swan christmas ff #my fanfiction #a christmas miracle

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cosette141 · 10 months

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Lost and Found | OUAT fanfic | Chapter 14 (end)

Fandom: Once Upon A Time

Author: cosette141

Words: 80k | (this chapter) 5k

Summary: (Begin Again sequel) Emma had felt lost nearly her whole life, and Killian had lost everything he’d ever found. That is, until they found each other. With the Crocodile dead and Cora turned good, it seems happy endings have returned. However, new crises arise, threatening the budding family between them and Henry. But this is a family that always finds each other… and they have yet to fail. CS, Anti-Neal

AO3

Chapter 14 (under the cut!)

The rest of the day went by in a haze of relief, and Emma felt herself relax bit by bit, eroding the steel she felt like she'd been throughout Neverland.

They were home, Killian was alive, safe, at her side, and so was Henry and her parents.

Her parents, which had always felt fake and wrong when she thought of David and Mary Margaret that way, but now not only felt true, but right.

Not long after they returned home, in typical Storybrooke fashion they found themselves at Granny's, surrounded by food, friends and relief all around, including the Lost Boys who tentatively joined them, and enjoyed a decent meal for the first time in however many years they'd been trapped on that godforsaken island. Blue had quickly taken to keeping an eye on them, as well as promising to house them and help them find homes, only proving herself to be Mother Superior.

Emma, Killian and Henry were seated at one of the tables with her parents, and Emma couldn't find a way to explain the feeling of being surrounded by something she's never had before.

Family.

She was so used to being left behind, abandoned, unwanted, watching parents pass over her in foster homes for the other kids. She'd spent a life surrounded by emptiness, silence and her own arms hugged around herself.

To go from a life of that, to this?

On Emma's one side were Mary Margaret and David, their eyes always drifting back to her even as they took turns telling Regina, Cora, and the townsfolk who had gathered around the gist of what had happened in Neverland, only omitting some of the more… emotional parts of the trip, that they seemed to want to keep sacred to themselves and Emma, like their experiences of the dreams were theirs and theirs alone.

On Emma's other side was Killian, glued to her left side, hand in hers, fingers intertwined and hadn't let go since he'd taken hers again after their reunion with Henry.

And also at Emma's left side was Henry, who had clung to them ever since they returned home.

But on the subject of clinging to them, it was less them, and more Killian.

Henry was seated on Killian's lap, paying attention to the conversation going on around them, but still had a subtle grip on the front of Killian's coat, something Emma couldn't help noticing was something her own fingers found solace in.

But it wasn't just Henry Emma couldn't help watching.

Because although Henry's attention was on the conversation, eager to know what happened in Neverland, Killian's attention was on him.

The pirate's eyes have been almost exclusively on Henry ever since they reunited, for Henry hadn't let go of him once. So much so, that Killian had carried him here, looking so much like father and son that Emma had to fight the burn in her eyes. The picture reminded Emma of the last time they had returned to Storybrooke, and it was she in his arms.

It was from Henry they learned that though Emma and her parents thought they had been gone only two or three days, in reality it had been almost a full week. That knowledge hadn't surprised Killian, who had looked a little relieved it hadn't been longer.

Henry had been safely under Cora's and Regina's protection all week long, however according to Regina, he had spent most of his days begging them to bring him to the pier, where he waited for their safe return.

That knowledge alone had Emma clinging to her son far more than she already had been.

Emma had tuned out most of the conversation about their adventure, focused on watching Killian and Henry, only tuning back in when Mary Margaret reached the part of their tale that Emma realized none of them had the answer to.

"We tried to shield Emma from Pan's attack," began Mary Margaret, "but then there was this feeling of warmth, and his attack was somehow reflected back at him, so it's like he sort of defeated himself." She shook her head. "I don't really understand what it was."

"Karma," muttered David.

But among the sea of confused faces, Cora smiled. And it was still a strange sight to see—the woman who had always been so cold, showing warmth.

"True Love," said Cora, with that smile, so similar to her expression after she was reunited with her heart. "The power created by two people who share True Love," she said, gesturing between Mary Margaret and David, "protecting the product of their True Love…" She turned her gaze to Emma. "It's strong enough to do, or protect one from anything."

"It was our love?" asked Mary Margaret softly, tears in her eyes. She looked from David to Emma, and Emma felt the soft warmth from the dream she'd had in Neverland touch her again.

She had always imagined what it would feel like to have loving parents.

She never knew it could feel as good as this.

"Love…" said Cora, turning to Regina, "is the strongest magic of all." And to Emma, Cora said, "You were right, weeks ago, Emma. What you said to me when I couldn't take your heart. Love is strength."

Emma smiled, sitting between Killian, Henry and her parents, never feeling stronger in her life.

"Speaking of strength," said Regina, "it sounds like your magic is coming along quite well, Emma."

Emma felt herself blush. "I mean… not really," she mumbled. "I can't do what you can do." She shrugged. "I can only, like, make shields and heal people," she said.

"Why, of course."

Blue's voice drifted over from where she'd been watching the Lost Boys. "You're a Savior," she said simply. At the group's puzzlement, Blue explained, "Saviors have magic specific to saving themselves or others. Protection magic."

Emma blinked.

All the times she's used magic—

Jumping in front of Mary Margaret when Cora tried to take her heart.

Creating a protective shield around Gold's shop.

Somehow managing to teleport Killian to safety when Cora nearly killed him.

Reflecting the Lost Boy's dart away from herself.

Healing Killian's wounds—

"Protection magic," echoed Emma, it suddenly making sense. She looked at Killian, who shared the dawning realization.

"However, for the record," said Killian, "your magic isn't only anything, love. I know for a fact that none of us would be here right now if not for you and your magic."

Emma blushed again, mirroring his smile.

Tightening her fingers around his, Emma said, "Well, Henry and I wouldn't be here without you."

It was Killian's turn for a little shyness, looking like he was going to dismiss the credit, when David lifted his glass. "To Hook," he said, meeting Killian's eyes, a fond smile at his own lips. "We're glad to have you back."

Emma lifted her own glass, Henry his hot chocolate, and the room chorused a mix of To Hook and To Killian, making the pink deepen in Killian's cheeks, a stunned look in his eyes. However he inclined his head, with a tiny genuine smile. And with a smile toward Emma and Henry, he said softly, "Nowhere else I'd rather be."

The rest of the day was spent just together, the five of them and some of the town, Emma feeling so surrounded by care for her, she nearly had to ask her parents to stop asking if she was alright or if she needed something. But it was a good kind of overwhelm, to see them looking at her with the same attentiveness they once looked at their town and their people and every other crisis with.

She finally felt like she was their… priority.

Or maybe that's just what it felt like to be their daughter.

But Emma wasn't the only one who felt like they gained parental love.

For Henry had spent the day agonizing over having to give up calling Killian Captain due to his new title of Dad—and with every casual slip of calling Killian "Dad", Emma could feel Killian's heart skip through their touch, and the warm shock in his eyes each time—Henry had finally settled on alternating between "Dad" and "Captain Dad". Each time he used one to refer to Killian, it made Emma smile, watching Killian sit speechless, as if he hadn't entirely believed that the title would remain after Henry had said it the first time, and couldn't believe that it did, over and over again.

Killian seemed entirely unaware of anything other than Emma's and Henry's presence.

Emma knew the feeling.

For she would be happy to spend the rest of her life with the four people—the family—at her side.

It was appropo that the town had gathered, for Emma's safe return with Killian and her parents wasn't the only good news.

Anton had come bursting in, looking disheveled and exhausted, holding up something between two fingers, letting the object speak for him.

A bean.

More hollers and cheers for Anton's success, and the town's collective choice to leave for the Enchanted Forest tomorrow afternoon.

Mary Margaret and David had looked to Emma amongst the town's excitement, like they wanted to gauge her reaction, her feelings about it.

Exchanging a look with each other, Mary Margaret said, "Emma, you said a few weeks ago… that you didn't want to come with us." They exchanged a look again, and she smiled. "We'll be happy to… stay here with you."

Emma felt her brows raise, and felt Killian's follow, his eyes shifting to her.

"Stay here?" asked Emma, looking briefly at Killian's surprise, to her parents.

David swallowed, hard. "Emma, sweetheart," he said, smiling faintly at his own ability to use the epithet now, and Emma felt a warmth in her chest. "We've spent twenty-eight years of your life putting… ourselves, and our people ahead of you."

Emma started to shake her head. "It's—" she began, but Mary Margaret said gently but firmly, "No, it isn't okay."

Emma felt a little squeeze on her fingers, like Killian's agreement with them, him lending her the strength to think about herself.

"Emma," said Mary Margaret. "No matter how many… people we're responsible for, none of them will ever be more important to us than you." She smiled, and Emma felt pink touch her cheeks. "We missed out on… so much," said Mary Margaret with difficulty, tears touching her eyes, and Emma's own. "I… we," she looked back at David before looking at Emma, "we want to get to know you, and hear about everything, and make…" A tear slipped down her cheek. "New memories," she whispered, as the three of them seemed to relive their Neverland dreams at once. "Good ones. The three of us, as a family," she smiled through her tears. But she looked at Killian and Henry, amending, "The five of us."

And at that, Emma felt Killian's surprise, once again, at being included in their family.

"If you want to stay in this realm," said David, nothing but truth in his and Mary Margaret's eyes, "we'll stay with you."

Emma looked between them, unable to believe that they wanted to give up their Kingdom for her. The Kingdom that they spent more than half their lives fighting to protect. Mary Margaret was a princess her whole life, and David a prince for half of his.

They would give it all up, for her?

Emma felt a tear slip down her cheek, and Killian's fingers tighten around hers.

"I want that," said Emma softly. "To be a family, all of us."

Mary Margaret and David smiled, tears in their eyes, accepting her choice, not an ounce of regret in their eyes.

"I'm sure Aurora wouldn't mind taking the Kingdom—" began Mary Margaret, but Emma stopped her.

"I want us together," clarified Emma. "But… I don't need it to be here. I want to…" She looked at Killian, whose smile was nothing but encouraging, willing to follow her anywhere. "I want to see the life you… wanted me to have," said Emma.

Mary Margaret and David shared their shock, and Emma realized they hadn't expected her to change her mind.

"You want to be a princess?" asked Mary Margaret incredulously. "I mean—you always have been a princess, but… you want to be one?"

Emma felt a blush heat her cheeks. "I mean… it'll take some getting used to, but…" She smiled, a shyness in it. "Might be kinda neat to be a princess… like my mom was." she finished softly.

The sheer amount of joy that lit up Mary Margaret's eyes would have blinded the sun itself.

And suddenly she was in her mother's arms, pulled in close.

"I love you, Emma," she whispered over her shoulder.

A tear fell down Emma's cheek, whispering words for the first time in her life.

"I love you, too, Mom."

And David joined the embrace, an arm around both his girls, tears in his eyes. "I love you, my little girl," he said softly.

"I love you, Dad," she said just as softly, smiling at the words she was finally able to say.

She felt Killian's fingers still around hers, squeeze.

"I'm not used to someone putting me first."

"Well, get used to it."

Emma shut her eyes, and began to do just that.

With the—once again—impending move to the Enchanted Forest, one that, this time, Emma was actually looking forward to (however hesitantly), it was Henry who had one last Storybrooke request.

And that was something he'd apparently been eagerly waiting to do for quite a while; spending a night on the Jolly Roger.

Bidding her parents a goodnight, which entailed several hugs, I love you, Emma's, and insurances that Emma would keep her phone on and call them in the morning. (To which Emma rolled her eyes with a smile.) She, Killian and Henry then retired to the Jolly Roger for the last night in Storybrooke.

Henry was quite keen on sleeping in a castle every night as a prince, but according to him, he has been waiting too long to sleep on a pirate ship.

Most of their walk to the ship was filled with Henry's excited chatter about a very many subjects involving his approaching princehood, the Enchanted Forest and the change ahead of them all.

But by the time they reached the ship, the moon was high overhead, Henry's blinks were long and slow, and he was falling asleep in Killian's arms.

Killian carried Henry onto the ship and below deck, into the cabin next to his, laying him on one of the cots like it was specifically chosen. He laid Henry on the bed like he was made of glass, and rare glass at that, making a smile touch Emma's eyes at the care he showed for her—their—boy.

Henry's eyes fluttered open when Killian put him down, blinking around the room, smiling sleepily and mumbling, "You remembered the one I picked."

"Aye," said Killian, pulling up the blanket for Henry. "Get some sleep, my boy."

Henry's brows kneaded. He blinked again, fighting his tiredness. "Don't fall in another portal, 'kay?"

That made Killian still for a moment, pain drifting through the blue in his eyes like a cloud, darkening the beauty of a clear sky. But he smiled, brushing over Henry's hair. "I'm not going anywhere," he promised softly, yet so surely, and it took Emma back to the apartment in New York.

"Don't leave."

"I promise you, Emma. I am not going anywhere."

He'd kept that promise.

Again and again and again.

The words seemed to calm Henry as much as they'd calmed Emma that day, and Henry's eyes fluttered shut, a barely audible whisper of, "Night, Dad."

Henry slipped into sleep, and Emma watched Killian watch him, an unreadable look in his eyes.

Killian stood, and Emma quietly knelt beside Henry's bed, gently kissing his forehead before joining Killian again at the doorway.

They both hovered there as Killian's hand found hers.

An idea jumped into Emma's mind, and she smiled at it, touching her free hand to the wall, shutting her eyes. She felt the magic flow through her, warming her chest, and opened her eyes to watch the faint white glow span the walls of the room, surrounding it with a protective shield. In the bed, even asleep, Henry seemed to relax more, as if he could feel the protection—her protection—surrounding him. The relief it brought her seemed to fuel the magic on its own, as the safer it made her feel, the stronger it was.

Emma turned to see Killian's grateful look, like it relieved him just as much as it did her, if not more.

Emma felt her phone buzz, and she pulled it out to find a text from Mary Margaret.

I love you, sweetheart.

Emma smiled at it, feeling the familiar warmth fill her chest.

Killian smiled when she told him what it was, with a blush in her cheeks.

"You've done the impossible, love," he said. "You've gone to Neverland and gained parents."

Emma smiled, inclining her head toward Henry. "And you came back as one." she said softly.

It was his turn for a humble shyness, and maybe a touch of fear, of the kind of anxiety of not wanting to disappoint.

"He's lucky to have you," said Emma softly, honestly, smiling at the innocent disbelief in his eyes that has been there since this morning.

But he shook his head, looking toward Henry. "'Tis the other way around."

They both watched Henry sleep for a few moments longer, hovering in the doorway before Emma's fingers tightened a little around his, pulling him away from the room. He let her, and they left her magic watching over Henry as they climbed the stairs above deck.

The sun hadn't set yet, and it reminded Emma of the night last week—had it only been a week?—that Killian had brought her here to watch the sunset.

However, this time, neither of them even glanced toward the horizon.

Killian captured her lips in a kiss, one that she felt she'd waited years to feel, allowing herself to be swept into his passion. Their kiss was a language of its own, and Emma felt herself smile into his lips, hearing everything his heart was speaking to her through touch. She only deepened his passion, overcome with the relief that she was even able to do this again with him.

They pulled away reluctantly, as if only coming up for the air they were unlucky enough to need. But their eyes met above the surface of the kiss, stilling them both, just watching each other in the first quiet moment since they've been home. They held each other there, Emma's fingers in his hair, his in hers. The moment shifted at once, from passionate to tender, her fingers finding his coat.

Emma relaxed into him, trading the embrace of his kiss for his arms. She felt her head fall to his shoulder, shutting her eyes as he pulled her in tighter, his arm curling around her waist, sending a feeling slipping down her spine, and a warmth in her chest. She simply listened to him breathe, felt his heartbeat, the two things that could steady her more than any lapping wave.

The sunset cast them in a silhouette, forgotten behind them.

She felt him rest his face lightly over her hair, pulling her in only closer, and felt a breath eased from his chest, like her closeness was his own anchor.

He pressed a kiss to her hair, and she smiled into his chest, fingers curling into his jacket at his back, melting into him only more.

She could spend forever, right here, in his arms.

It felt like years since they had been together, and been together without the fear of losing each other again. Here, they were all right, Henry safely within the embrace of her magic, and Emma herself safely in Killian's.

And he, hers.

A breath of relief was eased from her own chest, like a cool breeze over hot land, like rain over dry grass.

She lifted her head, missing his eyes. She found them on her, the blue in them so much richer than the sea, looking at her with the same relief Emma felt in her heart. He smiled, as if just the sight of her gave his lips the instinct, and she felt hers mirror him.

Emma pulled him to her even more. "I hope you know that after everything we just went through, I won't be letting you out of my sight ever again," said Emma through her smile, truthfully only half-joking.

He smiled, the expression a little reserved for catching the truth in her words. "Nor I you," he said softly, pulling her flush to him, tightening his hold around her with a grin, and Emma felt a little laugh in her chest. His embrace suddenly felt like the one he'd given her when they'd met, when she'd grabbed him to save him from the tripwire on the Beanstalk. She'd clawed her way out of that hold then, but now, she knew if he ever let her go, she'd claw her way back in.

Flashing back to the docks, to having thought she lost him, Emma felt a chill sweep down her spine, and she melted into him only more, as close as she could get. "Killian," she whispered, smiling to herself, that he was here. "I'm so glad you're all right," she whispered.

His embrace changed, from playful to protective, curling around her even more. "Only thanks to you," he said, just as softly.

She smiled into his chest. "I don't know how much I had to do with it," she said. "I'm starting to believe that you are a survivor."

But that made him pull back a little, just enough to see her face, and she looked up at him. There was a little hurt in his eyes, for her, at her dismissal of credit. He looked at her for a moment, then at the horizon, the last rays of light off the water.

"Aye," he agreed tentatively, "I am good at surviving." His gaze on the water shifted, as if with old pain at a new realization. "However…" His voice trailed off, that pain shifting in his eyes. "I believe Cora was right, earlier this afternoon. When she had said that you'd been correct that day at Lake Nostos. That…" He trailed off again, and looked at her then, something changing in his eyes. A muscle ticked in his jaw, but didn't stop him. "That… love…" he said slowly, "is strength." He smiled, eyes on her with the words, his hold tightening around her a little. "My survival has never been a talent," he said softly.

Emma's eyes widened a little with realization. "Milah," she said suddenly. "You were fighting for Milah," she said with a smile, still incredulous that someone could be so devoted.

"Aye…" said Killian, voice trailing off, his eyes settling on her with a hesitance, and Emma felt his heart skip through their touch. "However… this time," he said slowly, "it wasn't Milah I was surviving for."

Emma suddenly froze.

The very air around them seemed to catch its breath.

They both felt the depth of his implication with the words, like a magic of its own.

Killian's gaze was just as frozen on hers, a smile touching the corners of his lips. He lifted his hand, gently holding her face, thumb brushing across her skin. "It was you," he whispered.

Emma felt her breath catch.

"My whole life," said Killian softly, "I've chased reasons to survive." He smiled again. "But… Emma, you…" He smiled, the look in his eyes brighter than the stars. "You give me a reason to live."

Tears touched Emma's eyes.

And suddenly there was that look in his eyes again, that she'd seen on the ship on the way home. Something so strong, so vibrant.

Killian opened his mouth, smiling, as if so ready to say something that seemed to have been on his tongue for far too long.

However, he hesitated, shutting his eyes.

"Emma…" he began, voice heavy with a sense of anticipation, of an ocean about to overtake a dam. "I want to… tell you something," he said carefully, cautiously. "But I don't want you to… feel the need to say something in return," he explained heavily, words almost tumbling out in a rush of anxiety.

Emma could feel his heart begin to race through their touch.

"You needn't say anything you… aren't ready to," he said slowly, "or that you…" His voice cut off, barely a whisper to say, "Or that you don't f-feel." Killian said, he said carefully, voice shaking a little around the words, as if it was an outcome that scared him.

Emma felt her heart skip as his voice shook.

He was so hesitant, yet as if alight with a need that almost seemed to consume him more than his need for revenge once had.

"However," he said, voice rough, as if pushing through the point where fear met desire, he smiled. "You deserve to know."

And holding her gently, brushing his thumb over her skin, his smile on her like it was hers alone, he whispered, "Emma, I—"

"I love you."

Killian froze.

Emma felt herself smile, her own voice's echo filling the silence, lingering the three words between them, spoken for the first time.

Killian stared at her in utter shock, hearing the words that were still waiting on his tongue.

When Emma only smiled, he stared at her in complete disbelief. As if he was unable to process her words. "What?" he asked, looking almost lost.

Feeling her smile grow, Emma repeated, "I love you."

His eyes widened a fraction, as if hearing it repeated, as if knowing it wasn't an accident was even more incredulous.

Like he'd just been given the highest honor, and simply couldn't believe it.

But his shock only lasted a moment.

Suddenly there was a smile at his lips, so elated, so joyful, a happiness Emma had never seen on him before.

And it was the same happiness in her chest.

"Emma," breathed Killian, smiling only more. "I love you." Emma felt a laugh at her chest, a tear falling down her cheek, her smile mirroring his as he said, "Emma, I love you so much."

He pulled her to him, and she met him halfway, shutting her eyes as their lips met again. Warmth filled her chest, racing through her, making her feel more alive than ever.

He loved her.

For all her brokenness.

For all her damage.

For her.

They pulled apart, just looking at each other, and Emma watch a tear slip down his own cheek, reflecting the setting sun. He smiled at her, and her lips followed, meeting his again, finding herself in him, her love, her other half.

The kiss broke once more, though they themselves were only more whole.

"Emma Swan," he whispered into her ear, smiling, pulling her to him only closer. "I am in love with you."

Emma felt another laugh in her chest, of elation. "I love you, Killian," she whispered into him, pulling back to look at him, her eyes shining, his a mirror of hers, blue meeting green, together the color of the sea.

She loved him.

More than she's ever loved anyone.

And he loved her back.

She melted into his kiss once again, feeling as if the last of her walls fell down, disappearing into the past along with his.

Emma felt herself flash back to that day in New York.

Finding herself there, in his arms, crying into his chest.

It was then her heart knew.

That no one, no one, has ever felt like him before.

He was her safety, he was her home.

He was the piece of her that had been missing.

She went from broken pieces shattered on the floor of an apartment, to whole.

Because of him.

And she loved him.

She loved him so much.

And he loved her.

She smiled into his chest.

The last time she said that to someone, they'd left her.

But here, Killian only pulled her to him tighter, only kissed her again, and somehow she knew he would never let her go.

The walls that had once held her up were now replaced with Killian, and she smiled.

She shut her eyes, holding him, kissing him, loving him.

He loved her.

She only smiled again.

That day in New York had felt like her end.

But it wasn't.

It was a chance—a gift, for both of them.

To begin again.

-.-.-.

tag list: @kmomof4 @justanother-unluckysoul @klynn-stormz @stahlop @ilovemesomekillianjones @hookmecaptain @tiganasummertree @jadehowlettthewolf @jonesfandomfanatic @anmylica @pirateprincessofpizza @stahlop @snowbellewells @eddisfargo @motherkatereloyshipper @confessionsofthemword @killian-whump

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fic #captain swan fanfic #killian jones #emma swan #lost and found #cosette141 ffn #hurt/comfort #romance #fanfiction #ouat #once upon a time #once upon a time fanfic #once upon a time fanfiction

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kazoosandfannypacks · 1 year

Text

"It Now Belongs To You" by kazoosandfannypacks

Chapter 10/10: But With This Ring, It Now Belongs To You

Pairing: CaptainSwan

Rating: T

Word Count: (931/10.6K)

Summary: When Emma and Killian receive a pair of magic beans as a wedding gift, they take a voyage on the Jolly Roger for their honeymoon- but a wrench is thrown into their romantic getaway when they run into a notorious pirate who's staked a claim on the Jolly Roger.

Chapter Summary: Killian gets to the heart of why Emma's plan distressed him so much, but she reassures him that, while she understands his fear, neither of them have anything to be afraid of.

Tags: post-canon, canon compliant, fluff, no smut, suggestive themes, alcohol, gambling, self indulgent fluff with a sprinkling of angst

Author's notes: And that's all, folks! This has been the first fic that I've posted in the weekly serial update format, and I've enjoyed it! You guys' comments have been the highlight of my week; I treasure each and every one of you!

Next week I'll begin posting a somewhat anticipated Captain Swan fake dating canon divergent fic. I'll be posting a new chapter every Wednesday up until this summer, so be sure to stick around for it!

Taglist: @zahara @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @booksteaandtoomuchtv @jrob64 @tiganasummertree @anmylica @teamhook @undercaffinatednightmare @gingerchangeling @lonelyspectator @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @cs-rylie [if you'd like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!]

Also on Ao3!

Killian closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Where did you learn to scam like that?"

"I don't see…"

"Who taught you?"

Emma bit her lip. "Neal?"

She assumed Killian would be offended, but this seemed not to just be the point he was getting at, but a stepping stone to that point.

"Where did he learn it from?"

"I don't know." Emma said. "His dad is the dark one? He spend two hundred years in Neverland? I don't know?"

Killian shook his head. "It's one of the skills he inherited from his mother."

"Milah." Emma nodded.

"That kind of plan was a page out of her book." Killian nodded back. "Plotting behind my back to help save me, swooping in at the last minute- to risk yourself for me- and scheming your way out of it so we could have it all together."

Killian had never been one to play the comparison game with her before, and she wondered where this was going.

"It's just what she would've done- just what she did- on the night that I lost her."

Emma placed her hand on his shoulder. She looked at him as if to say, “please continue, I’d love to listen,” and he nodded a little, but turned away from her gaze, either staring intently at the cobbled wall behind her, or he didn’t even see it was there.

"When I first dueled the Crocodile, hundreds of years ago, I had one thought on my mind throughout the whole awful battle- if I fought hard enough, stayed alive long enough, held off the crocodile as long as I possibly could, it might save her. She could get away, my death could be her salvation.

"Sooner than I’d wished but later than I should’ve expected, I found myself on my knees, the Dark One’s scaly fingers grasping my heart, firmly, my life in his hands- and I knew that this would be okay, this was almost delight, almost joy, knowing my death was not in vain, that maybe in dying I could save my love.”

He glanced back at her, and she simply nodded.

“And then she came back for me, and then I lost her.” Killian said. “Do you know what the hardest part of those hundreds of years I spent on Neverland seeking my revenge was?”

“What?” Emma

“Knowing that it should’ve been me. I was the one who took Milah from him, I should have paid the price, and I could’ve paid the price, and I would’ve.”

“Survivor’s guilt?” Emma asked. “Is that what this is about?”

“Something bigger than that.” Killian said.

“You don’t know how you’d live with yourself if you lost me the way you lost Milah.”

“Aye.” Killian nodded.

“I get it.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do.” Emma said. “I’ve been there.”

“You have?”

“I’m the savior; it comes with the job.” Emma smiled a little, then placed her hand on his neck. “Of course, it doesn’t help that some guys just won’t stop sacrificing themselves to save everyone.”

“I’m good at surviving.” Killian said. “I managed it for two hundred years, didn’t I?”

“So did someone else.” Emma said. “Sometimes your luck runs out.”

“Baelfire?”

Emma bit her lip and nodded. “He died the way he lived- a hero.”

“He gave himself to help save us all.”

“Sounds like a certain former Dark One I know.” Emma only half laughed.

Killian nodded sagely. “That’s why you went to the Underworld for me.” Killian said. “You couldn’t lose me the way you lost Neal.”

“I went to the Underworld for you because I love you.” Emma said. “And love is sacrifice. Love means that every day I’m going to wake up and say ‘I chose Killian Jones today,’ because love is also trust, and I trust you’re going to wake up every morning and say ‘I chose Emma Swan today.’ And sometimes we’re gonna doubt each other, and sometimes we’re gonna lose each other, but at the end of the day, it’s always gonna be you and me.”

“Aye, love.” Killian nodded.

“And I am sorry.” Emma said. “I should have let you in on my plan from the start. It wouldn’t’ve changed whether I won or lost- but if me helping you ended up hurting you- then I guess I lost either way.”

“All is forgiven, love.” Killian said, and he took her hands in his hand and his hook. “And I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”

“I forgive you.” Emma stood on her tiptoes and kissed his lips, just a quick little peck. “And I love you.”

“And I love you too.” Killian bent down a little and kissed her lips, just a little bit of a longer peck.

“And we’re all good now?” Emma asked.

“Better than good, love.”

“Excellent.” Emma said. She let go of his hands and draped her arms over his shoulders. “And do you happen to know if the famed Captain Hook has any plans tonight?”

He raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Only if a certain wench is available.”

“Her schedule’s pretty clear.” Emma smiled.

“Really?” he teased. “Heard a rumor going ‘round the tavern- something about Black Beard.”

“Not really her type.” Emma shook her head.

“You mean that?”

“Absolutely.” Emma smiled as he wrapped his arm around her then reminded him, “Wax mustaches and perms aren’t really my thing.”

And with that, the Captain and his wife walked back to their ship arm in arm, ready to face their next adventure the way they had faced and would face all their adventures- together.

#once upon a time #captain swan #fanfic #killian jones #emma swan #once upon a time season 6 #post canon #fic rec #kazzy writes

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hollyethecurious · 9 months

Text

CS AU: The Law of Surprise (2/3)

Rated T (for now) / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!

Part One

Part Two

Ten years later…

Hook trudged his way through the Neverland jungle, the humidity dampening the ends of his hair - long overdue for a barber’s hand - and collecting along the bones of his collar and the hollow of his throat. He grumbled beneath his breath as he sidestepped booby traps left by the Lost Boys. Most of them had probably been forgotten and left abandoned when the miscreants’ whims had shifted from whatever depraved game they’d been playing to some new nefarious venture.

During his decade of service, Hook had been tasked a dozen times or more to ferry boys from the accursed realm where Pleasure Island existed. An island that lured boys to their doom with promises of wild frivolity, their fate sealed when they found themselves aboard the Jolly Roger, never to be seen or heard from again once they set foot on the new island of hellish delights. Most didn’t seem to mind, giving themselves over to the feral, lawless ways of the island, following in Pan’s deviant footsteps. Others, however… Well, Hook did not make it a habit of spending time thinking of the others, or their nightly woes that were carried to him by the vindictive Neverland winds as he attempted to find some measure of peace on his ship. Besides, after tonight, he would never have to endure those sobs, or the whoops and war cries, or the perils of the island, or the dangers of its master ever again.

After tonight, he’d be leaving the island of nightmares behind him for good. Too bad the same could not be said of the nightmarish reputation his years of service had crafted.

Pirate. Villain. Void of pity or compassion. Callous. Heartless. Merciless. Barbarous. Cruel.

These were the words he’d seen splashed across countless wanted posters, all demanding his capture - dead or alive - with bounties that had increased exponentially over the years. Posters and decrees that hung in every port, every tavern, displayed on every ship he’d waylaid, and carried in the pockets of every officer or crewmen he’d crossed blades with. Even those from a kingdom in which he’d never committed his crimes. A kingdom he had avoided at all costs, hoping that when his time was up he might still find himself a safe harbour upon her shores of refuge; a place he still might belong, despite his dastardly deeds and fearsome reputation.

Misthaven. His adopted homeland. A place to which he had sworn vows of fealty and devotion, not simply to its sovereigns, but the kingdom as a whole. He had done all he could to maintain his oath, even to the point of waging his own war in allyship as he fulfilled Pan’s ruthless commands by targeting King George’s ships and cargos, even if easier pickings had been available to him, protected by the Misthavian coat-of-arms.

The deck of the Jolly Roger had been bathed in the blood of King George’s men numerous times over the course of the war, which had waged on for the better part of these ten years. It was only in these last few months that peace had finally been achieved. Some sort of deal struck with a sorcerer who ruled a far off kingdom, his dark magic laying waste to George’s forces and ending the king’s reign in, what Hook had been told was, a resounding display of brutality that rivaled his own.

Though he shuddered to think of the deal his sovereigns had willingly made with a madman of such dark proclivities, Hook understood the necessity of desperate measures during such desperate times when those you loved and served were on the brink of death and destruction. Who was he to judge them? They had done what they felt they must in order to safeguard their people. A task made more complex by the fact that the entire conflict had begun with the atrocity of robbing Queen Snow of the ability to conceive an heir. Without a progeny to pass the throne to, Misthaven could have found itself under George’s rule had anything happened to Their Majesties. Hook knew they could not risk their subjects’ futures to such a fate, though he did wonder what the future held for a kingdom with no heir.

He supposed he’d find out for himself once he returned. Assuming he was not killed on sight when he made berth, feeling relatively certain, given the bounty King David himself had set upon his head, that neither his sovereigns nor his brother knew of his true identity. He did not relish the idea of revealing that truth, and could only pray he would find pardon once their shock and disgust subsided. That is… if he even found the courage to return at all.

There was no use denying that he’d considered, on many occasions, leaving the island and sailing as far from the realm as he could. Starting anew in some foreign destination where the names Killian Jones and Captain Hook held no meaning. He could not do that to Liam, though. Could not leave his brother to wonder after his fate, or worse, come looking for him on the island of nightmares where last they saw one another. Plus, he’d made a vow to honor his accords so long as they were honored in kind. He owed it to his sovereigns to return. If the king and queen chose to sever the ties that bound them, by both his oath and the unfilled Law of Surprise, then so be it, but he would not break his oath, not when he’d gone to such lengths to preserve it.

Skull Rock held the same oppressive and imposing heaviness it always did as he marched up the damp stone steps, each bootfall echoing the dread that pounded in his chest. Every time he’d presented himself here, Hook wondered how much more of himself he’d lose while implementing Pan’s bidding. This time was different, though. This time there would be no bidding. No demands. No nefarious schemes or dark dealings. This time, he was being summoned because their deal had finally come to an end. Ten long years of torment would be fulfilled this night and by dawn he would once again taste that which had eluded him for most of his life.

Freedom.

The same, however, could not be said for the poor unfortunate sat cowered in the dark corner of the cavern. A new toy for Pan’s amusement, no doubt. With no sign of Pan just yet, Hook casually glanced back at the small figure who appeared to be trapped in one of Pan’s giant hourglass prisons and was startled to realize it was no boy sitting with their knees curled into their chest, tears streaming down their cheeks, but was in fact… a girl.

Curious. Pan only ever wanted boys to join his little tribe of miscreants. What possible reason could he have for bringing a girl to--

“Ah, Captain! I do hope you have not been waiting long.”

“Only ten insufferable years,” Hook muttered under his breath, though he knew Pan heard him. Pan heard everything. “So we can dispense with the pleasantries if it’s all the same to you.”

They were squared off with one another, each taking on the posture that had become habit. Hook’s stance was always casual yet formidable, his thumb tucked behind his belt buckle with his weight shifted to one side, while Pan leaned against the craggy interior of the cave, his arms and ankles crossed as though he had not a care in the world. However, there was something off about Pan’s comportment this time. Hook could only surmise the change in demeanor was due to the ending of their arrangement and the little bastard’s loss of an errand boy.

A summation that proved wrong when Pan narrowed his gaze and hissed, “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

Hook’s brow pulled together and his head cocked to one side. “Find out… what?”

Pushing off from the wall, Pan slithered his way towards Hook, circling him in a way that made the pirate’s skin crawl, inquiring again, “Did you really think you could keep it from me?”

“Pan,” Hook sighed. He was so tired of the brat’s games. “I’ve no clue what you’re on about.”

Coming to a halt right in front of Hook, Pan crossed his arms over his chest, and though his feet were in a wide stance, exaggerating their difference in height, he somehow leveled his eyes with Hook’s.

“Did you think I would not discover the boon you were entitled to by King David himself?” Pan asked in a casual but dangerous tone. “The Law of Surprise you were promised for saving the man’s life?”

It took all of Hook’s composure not to react, though his jaw did betray him when the muscle beneath twitched. How could he possibly know about--

“Did you really think I would not keep tabs on your brother? On those whom you had served before me? It was part of our original arrangement that they would not interfere, and I had to make sure they made good on that promise. Imagine my surprise when my Shadow returned from his most recent reconnaissance with the news. The Law of Surprise bestowed upon you long ago.”

Trepidation filled him as Pan set off circling again, his mind spinning even as it tried to comprehend the words that followed.

“You never did find out what that surprise entailed, did you?” Pan made his way to stand next to the golden haired girl who was still trapped, her cries for help unable to penetrate the glass as he practically crowed, “Surprise! It’s a girl!”

“What?” Hook exhaled on an incredulous breath. “No, that’s… that’s impossible. She’s--”

“Princess Emma of Misthaven,” Pan stated. “Her existence was kept secret all these years for her own safety. Of course, now that Misthaven’s war with George is at an end the truth was finally revealed to its subjects. Although, I’m pretty sure only their Majesties and your brother are aware of her special connection to you. Well… and now me, of course.”

Hook’s gaze had been fixed on the young girl throughout Pan’s crowing. Her hair was a bit lighter than the king’s, her complexion not quite as porcelain as the queen’s, yet there was no denying her parentage. Her nose, her chin, her eyes… all features he could attribute back to King David or Queen Snow. She was theirs. Their child. But how? The Queen was barren. George had seen to it that she be unable to conceive and produce an heir, which made her existence a surprise indeed.

His surprise. His Child of Surprise according to magical law. She was his.

Drawing his sword, Hook advanced on Pan, thundering, “Let her go!”

With a flick of his wrist Pan immobilized Hook, leaving him virtually paralyzed in place and unable to move.

“I think not,” Pan sneered. “She’s my keepsake. A little token to remember you by… unless…”

“Unless what?” Hook spat through clenched teeth.

“Unless,” Pan drawled, “You agree to stay… indefinitely.”

Hook’s eyes cut to the princess - his princess - and the fear he saw shadowing her face tore his heart. Had Pan ripped her from her bed? Had his monstrous spectre dragged her here through the night sky with the potential horror of falling to her death whipping over her as they sliced their way through the air? How long had she been trapped in that corner, encased in a glass prison? What must she think of the scene playing out before her? How desperate must she be to return to her parents? Her parents. The King and Queen must be frantic. Almost as frantic as he was over the prospect of her being trapped here. Forever.

Over his dead body.

“Deal,” Hook agreed, casting his gaze once more on the demon boy. “On one condition.”

“What condition?”

“You let me take her back,” Hook demanded. “You let me ensure she gets home safe, tucked away once more in her bed. You let me reassure Their Majesties and inform my brother of our new deal. Give me that at least.”

Pan gave him a bored look, an almost disgusted sneer pulling at his lips as though he were disappointed by the sentimentality of the request. “Very well,” he said, dismissively. “I’ll have my Shadow ready the sail, but you best be headed back here before dawn,” he warned, pointing a bony finger towards the pirate. “And remind that brother of yours, he’s not to interfere. Him and your… sovereigns.”

Pan vanished before Hook’s eyes and the weight of what he’d just agreed to fell heavy within his stomach. The glitter of magic pulled his attention towards the hourglass, its walls dissipating, allowing freedom to its captive, but the princess shrank back further into the corner. Clearly fearful, but doing her best to put on a brave face, she stiffened her posture and lifted her chin, her eyes fixed on him as he tentatively approached.

“Have you come to ransom me to my parents?” she demanded, a quiver of fear trembling in her voice and manifesting in her bottom lip.

“No, Princess,” he assured her in a calm and soothing tone, dropping the timbre of his voice as he extended his hand towards her. “I’ve already paid your ransom. I’m taking you home.”

“You? You paid the ransom?” she asked incredulously. “Why?”

He tightened his jaw, making the muscles twitch, and contemplated how much to divulge to her. “Because I… I once served your parents, and between us there is a debt owed. It is my duty to see to your safe keeping.”

“You owe my parents a debt?” she said, taking a step forward.

He said nothing, letting her keep her wrong assumptions, and beckoned her forward with a quick gesture of his hand. “Come,” he said, taking her hand once she was clear of the opening within the glass. “We have a rather long journey ahead of us, and your parents must be worried sick.”

The princess followed along beside him, her little hand tucked tightly in his as they made their way to the cove where the Jolly Roger awaited them. The main sail was already darkened by the Shadow, and Hook wasted no time casting off once he and the princess were safe aboard. As soon as they were far enough away from the island Hook felt the ship begin to lift out of the waters and take flight. He curved his hook around a spoke of the wheel, bracing himself for the transition from sea to air as he held firm to Emma’s hand. The turbulent ascent and the way it made his belly fall was expected, but the arms frantically wrapping around his middle, attempting to squeeze the life out of him was not.

Looking down, he chuckled at the way the little princess buried her face in his leather coat, barely able to discern her muffled, “Tell me when it's over,” as she held on for dear life.

“You’ve nothing to fear, Princess,” he assured her, stroking his hand over her hair. “We can go below if it’ll make you feel better.”

Tilting her face upward, she stared at him with concern and apprehension swirling in her bright green gaze, and if there had been any doubt before, Hook knew in that moment there was not a thing in any and all the realms he would not do to ensure her safety and happiness.

“Don’t you have to man the helm?” she asked.

“No,” he told her, already leading the way towards his quarters. “The ship can manage without me.”

He hovered in the corner by the hatch steps as she perused the room, giving her space to grow comfortable with her surroundings..

“I’ve never been on a pirate ship before.”

“I should think not,” he responded to her off-handed comment, unable to keep the appalled tone from underpinning his words.

“Actually,” she said, studying the maps and charts that littered his desk. “I’ve never been on any ship. I’ve never even left the castle until yesterday.”

“Aye. Pan mentioned you’d been kept a secret all these years.”

“Mama and Papa said it was for my protection. They said King George could never know or else…”

She let the statement trail off and busied herself with inspecting his books, obviously uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed.

“Forgive my curiosity,” Hook began tentatively, the need for answers gnawing at him and waging war against the instinct to keep her from having to recount anything unpleasant. “I was under the impression that Queen Snow was barren. How is it… that is. How did you…”

“The waters of Lake Nostos,” she informed him, making her way to his bunk and plopping herself down to sit on its edge with a small bounce.

“The what?” He crossed his arms and ankles, reclining further into the corner, heartened by the way she seemed to be relaxing in his presence and unwilling to make any sudden movement that might put her on edge once more.

“Lake Nostos,” she repeated, fidgeting with something in her hands. A seashell, Hook realized. She must have plundered it from his desk without his notice. She’d make a hell of a pirate someday, he thought wryly.

“My father acquired a barrel of it, hoping its powers might restore what King George’s poison took from my mother,” she went on to explain. “That’s what the legend says it does, anyway.”

Hook’s brows furrowed as a long forgotten piece of knowledge made its way from the recesses of his mind. “Its waters were said to have magical properties that could return something that was once lost.” The princess nodded, but Hook’s skepticism deepend. “I thought those waters had dried up.”

“They had,” she continued, turning the seashell over in her hands, “But Papa found a merchant that had one remaining barrel of its waters, and was able to acquire it. Although, his search for a cure was almost for naught.”

“Why’s that?��

“Because Papa’s ship was ambushed by King George, with the barrel still aboard, and it sank to the bottom of the sea during the battle. Papa himself almost perished.”

Flashes of that battle erupted within Hook's mind. The smell of the gunpowder, the coppery taste of blood in the air, the excruciating pain in his wrist, the frigid bite of the dark waters, and those last moments just beyond death’s cold grip before he…

“Fortunately, a sailor hooked himself to the barrel and used it to keep afloat. Otherwise… I wouldn’t be here.”

All the air whooshed from Hook’s lungs, but he barely had time to process that astonishing twist of fate before the ship lurched and a tell-tale shade of green began to colour the princess’ features.

“There, there, lass,” he cooed softly, managing to get the basin to her in time and rubbing soothing circles over her back as she retched. Leaving the basin in her lap, he crossed the cabin and mixed up a tonic that would help settle her stomach, as well as put her to sleep for the duration of their journey.

“Here,” he offered, giving her a soft, encouraging smile as she brought the cup to her lips. “This will help with the queasiness, but it’ll also make you drowsy.”

Hook was humbled by the trust she showed him, swallowing every last drop of the tonic before handing the empty cup back to him.

“How long will it take before we get back to Misthaven?”

“A few hours,” he replied, grabbing a soft blanket from the chest at the foot of his bunk and encouraging her to lay back.

She yawned as he covered her, seemingly unaware as he removed the seashell from her grasp and placed it in his pocket, then she turned onto her side and tucked her hand beneath her head, her eyes following him as he settled into the chair behind his desk.

“You know… Papa doesn’t care for pirates much.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm,” she uttered wearily, the tonic already taking effect. “Make sure to wake me when we get there, so I can ensure your safety when you bring me back to the castle.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Hook’s mouth, and he couldn’t deny the warm feeling seeping through his chest at her insistence that she would protect him. Him. The fearsome Captain Hook.

“Do you believe your father would have me in irons the moment I set foot within the castle walls?”

“Yes,” she yawned. “Unless Uncle Liam gets to you first.”

The warm feeling turned to ice at the mention of his brother’s name. Uncle Liam. She’d been raised to regard his brother as her kin. It should not have surprised him. Of course his brother would have filled the void and stepped into the gap his absence had left behind. The Law of Surprise was dictated by the fates - and if he’d ever held any doubts over just how destiny driven that ancient magic was, the princess had all but wiped them away with her confirmation that her very existence would not have been possible had he not tethered himself to that barrel with the very hook her mother had later gifted him. The one still affixed to the brace on his left arm - it stood to reason that providence would provide a surrogate until such a time that destiny could be fulfilled.

Hook wondered what the fates might have in store for her now that he’d bound himself once more to Pan, this time… indefinitely. Perhaps that was fate's design as well. Who else but his brother could best help prepare her for the path that lay ahead as heir and future queen of Misthaven. Liam was a much better candidate than he, even before they’d sailed to Neverland. Before he’d failed to protect his captain from harm. Before he’d made the deal. Before Pan made him a pirate. Before he’d succumbed to the persona of Hook and, at times, many more times than he’d care to admit, had reveled in it.

Aye. This must have been the fates plan all along. A way to correct the error of the Law of Surprise ever being bestowed upon him in the first place. A way to ensure Emma’s safety and protection, her happiness and contentment. A way to set her on the right course so she could reign and rule her people with love and patience, mercy and justice. Virtues he’d long buried until they’d suffocated under the weight of his vices.

The fates were right. What use was a filthy, murderous, villainous pirate to one such as her? She was better off being looked after by his brother. Better off without him tarnishing her life and legacy, corrupting whatever goodness the fates had in store for her.

Hook left the little princess sleeping contentedly in his bunk, making his way back to the helm with his flask unstoppered in his hand. With each long pull of rum he took his eyes scanned the stars until he saw the two familiar flickering lights that signaled their passage from one realm to the next. The ship steered towards the star on the left and new heavens opened above him, revealing constellations he’d spent many a night in recovery mapping from one of the castle’s towers.

The Jolly Roger set down in the Misthavian waters several leagues from port and Hook moored her in a small cove not far from the castle. Gathering the still slumbering princess in his arms, he secured her to his person then swung down from the deck with the aid of the rigging. The sleeping draught he’d added to the tonic was proving quite effective, and Hook pushed away the guilt he felt over drugging her, knowing it had not been only for her own comfort that he’d added the sedative.

It was an arduous trek to the castle with very little of the waning moon’s beams to help guide him. Its illumination proved enough to alert the tower guards of his approach, however, for no sooner had he stepped onto the path that led to the back gate than a voice cried out a commanding order.

“Halt! Unhand the princess!”

“I have come in peace,” Hook told them, adjusting the princess’ weight in his arms.

“Not likely,” the guard scoffed. “You were spotted the moment your ship, with its unnatural black sail, descended. Since when does Captain Hook ever do anything in the name of peace?”

Hook sighed and leveled his gaze at the young knight, all the while clocking the other guards that were beginning to surround him. “Since he is here, not as Hook, but as the man he once was before becoming a pirate.” Swallowing heavily, he announced himself by the name he’d abandoned long ago. A name that felt more like a moniker than the one he’d earned wielding the weapon that had become his namesake. “Killian Jones.”

A few of the guards balked. “Jones? As in Admiral Liam--”

“I demand an audience with Their Majesties and my brother,” Hook barked. “I will only turn the princess over to their care. No one else.”

“Now see here, pirate! Who do you think you are to make dem-”

“Let him pass!” a familiar voice called out from behind the line of knights and guards. Pushing her way through the assembly, Tink emerged, a stunned and elated expression beaming from her features.

“Lady Bell,” Hook murmured in greeting, a wash of something like shame cascading over him as her eyes took him in and her expression soured into something more like shocked horror than pleasant surprise.

Whatever her final estimations of him, she shook off her stupefaction and rounded on the guards once more. “Did you not hear me? I said let him pass. Captain Jones is a faithful servant to the crown, evident by the fact that he has returned the princess to us. Escort him to the throne room and awaken Their Majesties at once!”

Hook had no idea what power Tink had carved out for herself within the Misthaven court this past decade, but that did not keep him from enjoying the spectacle of knights and guards tripping over themselves to carry out her orders as he was ushered to the throne room.

“Wait here,” his escort instructed, securing the doors behind him as he exited to stand guard until Their Majesties’ arrival. Hook was astonished that the man had left him alone with the princess, though he was grateful for the solitude, knowing he’d need these few moments to collect his thoughts and figure out how he would tell them about the new deal he’d struck… and because he knew these were the final moments he’d have with the princess - his princess - before he’d have to say goodbye to her.

Potentially forever.

He did not wish to linger on that thought.

Hook lowered himself onto the edge of the dais and cradled the princess in his lap while he waited for the king and queen to arrive. It felt strange to be back in this room. Not much had changed, based on the cursory perusal he gave the space upon entering. He wondered how much he would find King David and Queen Snow changed, to say nothing of his brother. They would be older, no doubt. Bits of gray peppering their temples, a few wrinkles beginning to etch themselves around the eyes and across their foreheads, but despite their outward appearance, Hook doubted very much that the years would have altered them as they had him.

No. If anyone was different, if anyone had undergone a drastic change to the point they might find themselves unrecognizable to those who had once known them best, it was him. Glancing down at himself, bedecked in his typical black leather and adorned with all manner of accessories unbecoming an officer, Hook wondered very much if any of them would recognize him at all.

The throne room doors banged open, causing Hook’s head to shoot up. The king and queen rushed in, hand-in-hand, followed closely by his brother. The three of them, darned in their nightclothes with their chests heaving from the exertion of sprinting from their respective bedchambers, stopped short at the sight of him sitting there with the princess wrapped in his arms. Gently, Hook laid Emma down beside him, then moved away, averting his eyes so as to not see their shocked expressions.

“She is well,” he assured them. “I gave her a sleeping draught to help calm her nerves on the journey home. It will wear off in due course.”

Stepping further back when he heard the stampede of footfalls coming towards him, Hook watched with a pained sort of contentment as the king and queen dashed to their daughter’s side. His meticulously honed skills, developed from years of having to navigate past dangers lurking within the Neverland jungle, alerted him to the soft pads making their way, not to the princess, but to him, and Hook braced himself to face his brother.

“Killian?” Liam's tone of pure exhilaration tore right through Hook. “Little brother, is it really you?”

“Aye,” Hook replied, his gaze, growing misty from the emotion welling beneath his lashes, still cast downward as he felt the weight of his brother’s hand upon his shoulder.

“After all this time,” Liam began, a sob choking his words. His hands cupped Hook’s face and he tilted his head upwards so he could look fully at his brother’s features. “You look just the same and yet, I hardly recognize you. Whatever are you wearing?”

Hook could not help the amused huff that left his lungs, matching his brother’s cheeky smile before allowing Liam to pull him into a tight embrace. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as he desperately clung to his brother, wishing with all his might this didn’t have to be another good-bye.

“Oh, Killian!” Snow wailed, launching herself into his arms after Liam had released him, and he soon found himself in the bear-like grip of the king as his arms wound around both he and the queen.

“You found her? You brought her home? But how?” King David inquired, prompting their assembly back towards the dais so he and Snow could sit with Emma as they waited for answers. “She went missing only yesterday, when her maids found her bed empty. We hadn’t even sent word to other kingdoms yet, so how did you--”

“Charming,” Snow interjected, her eyes scrutinizing Hook with the practiced eye of a caring mother. “The tale can wait until Killian has had a chance to rest.” A warm smile graced her lips as she lovingly admonished, “You look dead on your feet. Allow us to have a room made up for you.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty, but I am afraid I must decline,” Hook responded heavily. “I only have until dawn before I must return.”

“Return?” Liam exclaimed. “No! Your years of service to Pan expired yesterday! I thought… I thought that’s why you were here. Because you are now free.”

“It’s true, my original agreement with Pan ended yesterday,” Hook said, his eyes cast back down towards the floor once more. “But… I made a new deal with the demon boy, and I must get back before dawn or else it becomes void.”

“Let it!” Liam shouted. “Whatever reason you made this deal, surely it is not worth another decade of suffering under that vile imp’s rule.”

Hook flicked his gaze up to Liam’s, then over to the still slumbering princess and imparted, “It is, actually.”

Snow gasped and David balked when they both realized the meaning and gravity of Hook’s words, and three sets of horrified and anguish filled eyes turned upon him.

“You mean--”

“It was Pan,” Hook confirmed with a somber nod. “Somehow, he discovered the boon I earned in saving your life all those years ago. The Law of Surprise I was not even aware I had received until it sat caged in Pan’s lair. The price of Princess Emma’s freedom was for me to agree to stay, and it is a deal I would make a thousand times over.”

“For how long?” David demanded. “How long is this new deal for?”

Hook’s jaw tightened and once again he found himself unable to look any of them in the eye as he confessed, “Indefinitely. Likely, until one of our deaths sets me free.”

Shouts of outrage erupted around him, both the king and his brother insisting he stay, assuring him they would be willing to go to war with Pan if need be.

“No!” Hook hollered back, a flash of fury burning in his eyes as he drew himself up to full captain’s height and stepped into the persona he’d fashioned for himself over these many years. “You don’t know Pan as I do. He is a formidable foe, one you can not hope to defeat with conventional means. You’ve only just found peace for your kingdom now the war with George is at an end. I will not see you enter into another. I will not risk any of your lives just to try and save mine.” Each of them flinched under his hardened gaze as it snapped from one to the other until it landed with a softened hint of affection upon the princess. “I will not risk hers,” he murmured gruffly. “She is too important, and I… I am nothing more than a filthy pirate.”

“That’s not true, little broth--”

“It is true!” Hook growled menacingly, raising his namesake. “I am none other than Captain Hook, who you yourself have issued countless bounties for, dead or alive,” he told them as the full realization of his identity hit them. “And that is only for the crimes you know I have committed. You cannot even fathom the atrocities of which I am truly guilty.”

“Killian, none of that mat--”

“That is no longer my name!” Hook roared. His eyes flashed again and David instinctually pulled his wife behind him. The protective action cut Hook to the quick, and he quickly deflated as he swept his hand through his hair while filling his lungs with a calming breath. Running his tongue over his lips, he swallowed past the shame gurgling up from his belly, and set contrite eyes upon his sovereigns. “My apologies,” he said in earnest. “Killian Jones may have been a man worthy of such sacrifice, but I assure you, Captain Hook is not. Regardless,” he paused and set his eyes upon Emma once more. “For better or worse, the fates entrusted her to my keeping, and I would see that duty met. But that won’t be possible once I leave here, which means…” he cast his eyes upon his brother and began to decree, “Into your keeping, brother, I bestow the rights and duty of the Law of-”

“Stop!” Liam commanded, placing his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “Don’t. Don’t you do that. Don't you give up.” Gesturing towards the princess, Liam vowed, “I will look after her in your stead, but she will remain your Child of Surprise. If only to give you some reason to keep on fighting. You said you would do your duty towards her, and we will hold you to that, brother. None of us can know why the fates chose you, all we can do is trust in some greater plan that has yet to come to fruition.”

“Liam is right,” the king added in agreement. “The honor, privilege, and responsibility of my child’s life rests with you, Killian. It always has. Will you continue to safeguard it?”

Eyes once more fixed on the sleeping child resting in her mother’s lap, Hook took in a deep and shuddering breath. “Aye,” he exhaled. “Even to my last breath.”

The force of the king’s slap to his back nearly knocked him over. “Good. Then come and sit with us. You said we only had until dawn, and we have much to catch up on.”

The next few hours were spent in camaraderie and merriment, with only the occasional melancholy or remorse. Hook had forgotten what it felt like: fellowship, the use of his given name, the occasion to laugh, to tease, to bond. All too soon the roosters began to crow from the yard outside the castle walls, announcing the coming of the dawn that would begin creeping over the horizon within the hour.

Hook would never know where he found the fortitude to not break down when the time came to bid a final farewell to Their Majesties - his friends - and brother. David gave him his word that he would have pardon within Misthaven, that the kingdom would be a refuge and sanctuary to him whenever he might have need of it. Liam made his little brother promise to keep fighting, to keep searching for a way to defeat Pan so he could come home once and for all. When the time came to say good-bye to Snow, Hook’s words got caught in his throat. Not because this was a more difficult farewell, but because it meant the one he was truly dreading would be next.

“Would you…” Snow began, hesitantly. Perhaps sensing his turmoil in that intuitive way she had about her. “Would you mind helping me get Emma back to her room?” she asked, glancing over at the cushioned bench where the princess had continued to sleep throughout their reunion. “I had hoped she might wake up so you could tell her good-bye, but perhaps tucking her in and knowing she is safe and sound would be the next best thing?”

“Aye, thank you, Your Majes… I mean. Thank you, Snow,” Hook corrected when she raised her brows at him, reminding him they had agreed to dispense with the honorifics, as good friends were wont to do.

Gathering the princess in his arms, Hook gave David and Liam one last look and resolved nod before following Snow out of the throne room and through the corridors until they reached Emma’s chambers. Snow opened the doors and gestured Hook inside, hovering just beyond the threshold as Hook deposited the princess in bed.

The child groaned and stretched, momentarily opening her eyes and fighting the effects of the draught as she wearily gazed up at the pirate kneeling beside the bed.

“Shhh, princess,” he soothed. “Everything is well now. You’re home.”

“I told you to wake me,” she mumbled. “Papa didn’t arrest you, did he?”

Hook chuckled. “No, lass. Your Papa has been most hospitable, but I have worn out my welcome and must go now.”

“Must you?”

“Aye, princess. I’m afraid so.”

“Will I ever see you again?”

Hook threaded his fingers through her hair, stroking the long, silken strands with a gentle touch before tucking them behind her ear. “I hope so, princess. Most assuredly.”

“Me, too.”

Her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing began to even back out. Hoping she had not fully succumbed to the abyss of sleep once more, Hook pulled the seashell she’d taken from his desk and placed it back in her palm. “Here,” he murmured softly, “A little something to remember me by, and… a promise.” Stroking her hair once more, Hook leaned in and pressed his lips against her forehead, sending up a silent prayer to all the gods and fates that she be kept safe and only know happiness in her life before vowing, “Not a day will go by I won’t think of you.”

He knelt there for a moment more before making his way back towards the door, pausing at the threshold when he heard a quiet, “good” murmured from her bed. Tears stung his eyes, a halting breath escaping from his chest as he tried to maintain his composure in Snow’s presence.

Wrapping her arms around him, Snow gave him sanctuary to pour out his anguish. The despair and injustice. Everything he’d been suppressing since he’d discovered the truth and learned of Emma’s existence. Everything that was boiling over within him now, having to leave behind all he held dear, all that was precious to him.

It wasn’t fair.

Not because he felt he deserved better, he knew he didn’t. No. It wasn’t fair to Emma. Surely she must have felt it? The bond that had been created between them through the Law of Surprise. The feeling of being incomplete, as though he were leaving parts of himself behind, would she feel that loss as well? Would she ache for something she sensed missing as the deep recesses within him were now beginning to ache for her? Would she endeavor to fill the void his absence would create? Would she come looking for him?

“She can’t ever know,” Hook declared desperately.

“What?”

“Emma,” Hook clarified. “She can’t ever know about me. About the Law of Surprise. Please, Snow. Promise me you won’t burden her with that knowledge. Have the fairies help her forget me, if necessary.”

“Killian, what are you saying?” Snow inquired, her brow frightfully furrowed at his frantic demeanor.

“I’m saying, if she doesn’t know about me, then she won’t… she won’t be tempted to come find me. She’ll stay here. She’ll stay safe. Promise me.”

“I… I promise,” Snow agreed, though Hook could tell it was begrudgingly. “I promise that if she is ever to know the truth, it will only come from your lips.”

“Thank you,” he exhaled on a relieved breath, before pulling her into a final embrace. “For everything. I…”

“I know,” she assured him. “You must go,” she insisted, releasing him and taking a step back while wiping away her tears. “Dawn approaches.”

“Aye,” Killian replied, reaching out and giving her hand a squeeze. “Take care of yourself, Your Majesty.”

“Take care of yourself… Captain.”

With only minutes to spare, Hook made it back to the Jolly Roger and set sail back to Neverland. He was halfway back to the island of horrors when a sound from the hold sparked his curiosity. A quick search revealed… a stowaway.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing here, Tink?!”

“Shhh,” she admonished. “Keep your voice down or that spectre will hear you.”

“How do you know that spectre doesn’t already know you’re on board?”

“Because it was asleep when I snuck on.”

Hook balked. “It sleeps?”

“Yup,” she replied with a dramatic pop of the p. “Ten years and you never realized Pan’s shadow sleeps? I was right. You do need my help.”

“Your help?” Hook questioned, his head cocked to one side as he looked upon the fairy with confusion. “Help with what?”

“Why… killing Pan, of course. You and I both know that’s the only way out of your new deal with him.”

“How did you-”

“I was eavesdropping from the second floor gallery.”

“You what?!”

Tink held up her hand to stay his indignation. “Do you want to admonish me, or do you want to hear my plan?”

“You have a plan?” he repeated, with a heavy dose of skepticism. “To kill Pan?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Tink rocked back on her heels. “Mhmm. Wanna hear it or not?”

She was serious. She actually had a plan, and from the resolve he could see set within her shoulders and the way her eyes gleamed, Hook could tell it was a good one.

“I’m listening.”

Hook had to give it to the fairy, she was brilliant. Her plan had merit. Real merit. But it would take time, and cunning, and a fair amount of luck, and they’d be putting themselves at great risk if they failed.

“Why?” he demanded. “Why are you doing this? Risking everything. Your very life. Just to help me go free?”

“For one,” she said, taking his hand. “You deserve it.”

He wasn’t too sure about that. “And the other?”

Tink wet her lips and swallowed. “I’m doing it for her. For Emma. She needs you. Her life will never be… complete, never be fulfilled, never be what it's meant to be. Not without you in it.”

“You’re wrong,” he said, pulling his hand away. “She’s far better off without me in her life.”

A smirk lifted the corner of her lips, and they were both jolted by the jarring impact of the ship’s return to the waters of Neverland.

“We’ll see about that.”

Part Three - Coming Soon!

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)

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#csff

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kmomof4 · 7 months

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Tag Game

Rules: Go to your published works on Ao3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of- for whatever reason.

I was tagged by @spartanguard and @wistfulcynic. Thank you so much ladies!!!!

First fic: True Love Song After being a member of fandom for nearly three years, and spending all that time swearing I'd never write, it took a lot of hand holding, encouragement, and cajoling from hollyethecurious and winterbaby89 to get me to actually post this thing...

Last fic: Into the Light my entry for this years CSSNS, inspired by the 1987 movie The Lost Boys, starring Kiefer Sutherland, Jason Patric, Dianne Wiest, and Edward Herrmann.

Only Once: All my fics are for Once, but I do have a few fics for other ships besides CS... A Family Affair series features the love stories of triplet sisters Emma, Regina, and Ruby, and their older brother David. Love Between the Pages is CS's story. Killian is a bestselling author that is writing a book on Emma's late husband Neal Cassidy, NASCAR darling killed on the track. He didn't plan on falling in love with her. Dance With the Gypsy is Ruby and Graham's story. She falls in love with Graham Humbert, the producer of her new Broadway show, Secrets. Clipping an Angel's Wings is Regina and Robin's story. Hollywood star Regina hires Robin to find and keep her safe from a stalker. And finally, David and Mary Margaret's story is told in A Spy Finds a Home. Dr. Mary Margaret Blanchard hires international spy David Nolan to find and save her parents who've been kidnapped by a terrorist organization.

Favorite fic for the fandom I've written in most: That is TOUGH... UGH!!!! That is REALLY tough!!!!!! Ok, you know what? I answered an ask from @kazoosandfannypacks a couple of weeks ago of my five favorite fics, and I couldn't even limit it to just five. So if you're really interested, you can find that ask and answer here. But I really couldn't pick just one between any of them, sorry, not sorry...

The fic I wish more people read: Is it fair to say all of them? 🤷🏻‍♀️ But that said, it's always thrilling whenever I get a notification that any of my fics gets a new like, kudos, or comment.

The fic I agonized over the most: Two fics immediately come to mind... Choices and Of Darkness, Vampires, and Soulmates. Choices because first, it was for wistfulcynic, and second, I had a very specific plan for how I wanted the fic to go. I wanted to include all the underrated CS canon Neverland moments that I adored, but also smut. And including all those canon moments in the fic meant that there was NO WAY in my mind that canon Emma would have approached Killian in that way. So it took me about a month to figure out how to keep all those canon moments and make the ending of the fic true to who they both were at that time in the show. ODVS I agonized over because it was the first fic I'd ever written that came completely out of my own head, from start to finish, no inspiration at all, and I had NO IDEA how hard it was to translate my vision onto the page. PLUS the fact that I had to actually connect the different time periods. And finally the level of historical detail I ended up including was just... 😳 oof... So yeah, I agonized over ODVS the most. It took me a full seven months of active writing and hollyethecurious and wistfulcynic about deserve co-writer status for everything they did to help me finish it.

The fic that sprang fully formed from my mind without any effort: Oh, that's easy! The Moon... Tells the Sea. @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 shared a moodboard with me that she was working on for CSSNS20, and the full plot for a fic to go with it just poured out of me. She was almost as excited as I was for the fic, so I started writing. It ended up being a decent length one shot, but I think I had the whole thing written in 2-3weeks? Somewhere in there. Anyway, that was a fun one.

A fic that I'm proud of, for whatever reason: This one is pretty easy, too. Although the answer is kinda long... For someone who swore for years that she'd never write, the fact that I've published 39 fics in 4 1/2yrs makes me pretty proud. But that said, I'm probably most proud of the Family Affair series, linked above. I'm proud of it for a couple of reasons. First, that I was actually brave enough to really write it. The idea for the series came to me before I wrote my first MC, but given the fact that it was 4 different love stories, that would necessitate 4 different couples, plus the fact that we're a CS fandom and who from the CS fandom would be interested in reading a Red Hunter, OQ, or Snowing fic, the whole idea was pushed to the back of my mind for TWO YEARS before I actually started writing it. And the response BLEW ME AWAY!!! I'm eternally grateful for that! That's the first reason I'm proud. The second reason is that I remained true to my original vision of the interconnected stories of four siblings. I had several folks tell me over the course of the year I spent writing these fics that they'd love to see the stories as CS fics instead of the other siblings- particularly the OQ and Snowing fics. And as a reader, I completely get it. The plots of both of them would have been SO GOOD as CS fics, and I KNOW that I would have DEVOURED them both as such. But as the writer, I wanted the interconnected stories because of how much I loved the source material and the interwoven plot of the estrangement between the oldest and their father that I also wanted to tell. And again, I was stunned at the response I received for the other stories. The entire series is high up on my personal favorites list. In fact, I adore this universe so much, that I've written a Christmas fic set a year after David returns home and Regina and Robin were married that will be dropping on Christmas Day.

Thank you again for the tags, Kait and Saira!!! 😘

Now my turn to tag! @hollyethecurious @snowbellewells @winterbaby89 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jrob64 @cs-rylie

#tag games #ao3 fics #krystal writes

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cssns · 1 year

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Hi everyone! Please help me welcome @anmylica to this year's CSSNS!

What’s your Tumblr?

@anmylica

How long have you been in the CS/OUAT fandom?

2 years officially, but I was a fan of the show from the start of the first season!

When did you start shipping Captain Swan?

I don’t really remember when I started, but I got hardcore into them when I rediscovered the fandom after life got in the way and took me away from it when the show was running episodes.

What drew you to this event?

It’s a way of helping keep the fandom alive, and I wanted to challenge myself into writing a genre that I don’t really write.

What inspired your topic?

Sonata Arctica’s song “Fly with the Black Swan” gave time the basis, and then it sort of took off from there into what it’s become. The lyrics will give a hint as to where I’m going with it!

If you would like to share a snippet/sneak peek/summary of your fic or artwork, please use the space below.

Captain Hook has finally paid off his debt to Peter Pan and left the waters of Neverland for good. Newly arrived in the Enchanted Forest, he is more determined than ever to get his revenge. But all is not as it seems. Rumplestiltskin has since been killed and a new Dark One has taken his place. After finding proof that it wasn’t just Rumple, but this Dark power that was responsible for the death of his beloved, he sets off to the North Mountains, the last known location of this new Dark One, to end the Darkness for good. But after he’s separated from his crew by an avalanche (from which he was saved by a beautiful black swan), he realizes that the price of ending the darkness for good may be higher than he’s willing to pay once he meets the new Dark One. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to both Captain Hook and the Dark Swan, the Darkness has plans of its own…

What are you looking forward to most about participating in this event?

The chance to write in a genre that isn’t my usual. I’m going more for a horror thriller feel here with this fic, and it’s going to be very interesting because I actually hate that genre with a passion. We shall see if I manage to capture the elements of that genre with this!

Ooh, such an intriguing concept for a story! I'll have to go listen to the song now. I know you're going to knock it out of the park! Brittny's one-shot will be dropping Tuesday, July 11th. Please make sure to go say hi and welcome her to the event!

#GTKM #CSSNS23 #anmylica #gtkm interview

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caught-in-the-filter · 3 years

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Emma Was Cold

A Neverland smut fic for @neverlandnewyear and @csjanuaryjoy

Summary: Emma Swan finds that Neverland nights get surprisingly cold. Luckily, Captain Hook has some experience in keeping warm.

4006 Words; Rated: E; AO3

A/N: This is basically Neverland PWP. It was inspired by something I commented in the CS Movie Marathon Discord a while back, and I never expected to actually write the thing myself. This is the first full smut fic I’m publicly posting with one of my urls attached, so I’m both excited and scared to share it. First, I need to give a huge shoutout to all the lovely people on the CSMM, CSNLNY, and CSJJ Discords for all their encouragement and assistance while I struggled to write this fic. Special shoutouts to @teamhook, @kmomof4, @hollyethecurious, and @donteattheappleshook for reviewing bits of the doc for me as I went along and being super supportive, and especially to Maddie for also giving it a last minute full review once I finished it and helping me with edits. Also a big thank you to the mods for running these amazing events and for working together to allow us to cross-post between the two.

Alright, here we go....

——

“Are you alright, Swan?” Hook asked as he turned toward Emma to find her shivering where she lay a few feet away from him, his question prompted by the fact that he could actually hear the clacking sound of her teeth chattering.

“I’m f-fine,” Emma answered, curling further into herself as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms beneath the threadbare blanket that provided her with such little warmth. Who’d have thought Neverland would get so cold at night? She wished she’d worn more than a thin tank top, which served her well during the blazing heat of the day but offered no protection from the cool temperatures she faced now.

“Are you sure?” he prodded with a smirk, “If you’d like me to keep you warm, love, you need only ask. I’d be more than willing to—”

“I said I’m fine,” Emma snapped, “and I’m not your love.”

“Suit yourself.” Hook rolled back onto his side. “Like everything else on this island, Neverland nights are not kind. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

——

Emma was cold, so cold that she couldn’t stop shaking despite her best efforts. Tensing only made it worse, but she just couldn’t relax either. She cursed herself under her breath, knowing she shouldn’t give in but desperate for the rest she knew she’d never find in such a state.

“Hook?” she whispered, padding over to where he lay apart from the rest, half hoping he would already be asleep.

“Hm?” He turned toward her once more, the smirk returning to his face and burning a hole right through her.

Emma wondered if the embarrassment that set fire to her cheeks would be enough to warm her, but she’d already gained his attention.

“Did you have a change of heart then, love?” Hook questioned. “Are you ready to warm up to me? Or with me, I should say.”

“Nevermind,” Emma rolled her eyes and stepped away from him in annoyance, hoping he couldn’t see her shivering.

“Swan—”

“No.”

“Swan, please look at me,” he pleaded, more softly than she’d have expected. She turned toward him impatiently, ready to go off on him if necessary, but found a gentle look in his eyes and let him continue.

“I may be a bit brash when it comes to making my interest known, Emma, but I assure you I am nothing if not a gentleman. Neverland is a cruel place and I would not wish to make it any more so. If we are to share warmth in a strictly practical manner, so be it.” He waved her over to him, his hooked arm outstretched in invitation to serve as her pillow. “You need rest, and I won’t let you freeze to death in your sleep before we rescue your boy.”

Emma approached him with caution, hesitating before she sat and turned her back to him as she rested her head on his arm. She wondered how he could sleep in that leather duster of his, but as he held her close, pressing his chest flush against her back but making a point to turn his hips away from her, and draped the thick material of the coat over her as well, she realized just how comfortable it actually was. She wouldn’t admit to the sudden and surprising sense of calm that washed over her as she settled next to him, but in the unexplainable safety, it didn’t take long before she was sound asleep.

——

Though it was still dark when she awoke, Emma felt as refreshed as if she’d had a full night’s sleep, a feeling and a feat she hadn’t achieved in a very long time. She huffed out a breath with a roll of her eyes when she realized she’d been pinned by Hook’s other arm which curled loosely around her middle. He must have turned in his sleep, somehow gently enough to not wake her. Her instincts said to shove him away, but he had been decent enough to respect her boundaries in his offer. And, after all, she was much warmer this way, which was the whole point of moving closer together.

He suddenly shifted in his sleep again, and Emma gasped when she felt his clothed warmth brush against her denim-clad ass. Wait, was he actually hard?! Before she could stop herself, Emma let out an involuntary moan when he rubbed against her again and she immediately froze, wide-eyed and praying he didn’t hear her as all the heat they’d shared travelled south, save for that which reddened her cheeks. After a moment had passed without a reaction from him, she allowed herself to relax again, only to be suddenly pulled closer to him.

“Sounds like you liked that, Swan?” Hook remarked and rolled his hips ever so slightly. She could sense the shit-eating grin returning to his smug face.

Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he did it again before she responded, “Please, you couldn’t handle it,” and returned the motion, surprising him with the unexpected reciprocation.

“I do love a challenge. But tell me something, love,” he said, his hand traveling down towards her waistband, passing over the zipper and slipping between her thighs as his lips hovered over her neck and his hot breath seared her flesh, “can you handle staying quiet?” He lifted her leg and draped it over his own, giving himself the space to cup her through her jeans. “Everyone else is still asleep, and in any case it’s still too dark to journey on.” He placed a kiss just below her ear and continued, his voice a low growl just above a whisper, “Just say the word, I can help you ease your mind for a while.” The corner of his lips twitched upward as he teasingly flexed his fingers against her and added, “And the ache you might be feeling, if that moan were any indication.”

Emma silently cursed herself for letting that sound escape from her lips, and once more for what she knew she was about to give in to so quickly. He was right, she could use a distraction from her racing mind now that she was more awake again, and he was a damn tempting one. Her breath hitched when he caught her earlobe between his teeth and tugged, eliciting another soft moan from deep within her, and her decision was made.

“Yes.”

“Yes what, love?” he asked, nosing down her neck until his mouth latched onto the space between it and her shoulder, nipping and sucking her flesh and laving over it with his tongue.

“Yes, I can stay quiet.” Her hand reached up to find purchase in his hair, encouraging him to continue his claim of her collarbone. “Yes, I want you to ease my… well, everything.” He chuckled at that, the vibration of his laughter against her skin sending a chill down her spine.

“As you wish.” Hook wasted no time popping the button on Emma’s jeans, pulling down the zipper, and slipping his hand beneath the denim. “Oh?” He said, his eyebrow raised in wonder at the soft, thin material covering his goal. He rubbed his fingers over it, feeling her arousal soaking through it as he teased her. “You certainly do.” Hook pushed her panties aside and sank two fingers inside her.

“Ohh fuck,” Emma choked back another moan, the sinful sounds as he plunged them into her dripping core again and again filling the air instead. His rings bit into her skin with every thrust, the cool metal a jarring, yet welcome counter to the hot friction they were creating. She rocked her hips to meet him each time, and his breathing grew ragged as he rutted himself against the curve of her ass in synchrony. As Emma’s movements grew frantic, Hook’s slowed to a stop, and Emma groaned in protest when he removed his fingers from inside her, dragging them through her folds to brush her clit for just a moment.

“Not yet, Swan.” Hook carefully slipped his arm out from beneath her head and gently turned her towards himself so that she lay on her back. Getting to his knees and stripping off his duster, he knelt between her spread legs. “I’m a fan of every part of you, and I intend to show you just how much of a fan I am.”

He slipped his hooked arm beneath her tank only to find his access to her breasts blocked by another bit of material. Lifting the top to reveal the offending garment, he looped his prosthetic beneath it, the tip of the hook scraping against her skin as he did, and tugged. He noted that the small scrap of fabric differed from the corsets he was used to removing from women he’d bedded in the past but assumed it would be no less easy to snap than the laces he’d encountered on them.

“Hey!” Emma caught his wrist before he could succeed in his efforts. “I need this! Let me just….” She sat up for a moment to take off her tank top and undo the clasps at her back so she could toss her bra aside. “There.”

“Apologies, love,” Hook said, “and thank you.” He guided her back down with his hand just beneath her now exposed breast, thumbing at her tightening nipple as his mouth tended to the other. “Bloody magnificent, these are,” he mumbled against her as he teased them to stiff peaks. Emma tried to relax as the throbbing between her legs became almost unbearable and she longed for more friction to soothe it.

When he was at last satisfied, Hook released her nipple from his mouth with a resounding pop, flicked it a few times with the curve of his hook for good measure, and gave the same treatment to the other, relishing the way she squirmed beneath him as he nibbled and sucked and kneaded.

Emma gasped when the cold air rushed over her wet skin as Hook finished with her breasts and slid his body lower between her legs, trailing sloppy kisses down her abdomen along the way until he reached the top of her jeans.

Glancing up at her, he kept his eyes on hers as he gently tucked his fingers and hook just under the edge of her waistband.

“May I?” he asked, waiting for her approval to proceed.

“Yes,” she answered, “god, yes.” He grinned at that and very slowly tugged her jeans down her legs, distracted by the view of the place where his hand had been, covered only by the thin strip of fabric that had grown damp beneath his touch, pausing for a moment to slip off her boots when he reached them before removing the denim completely.

“You,” Hook said as he took in the sight of her almost completely naked form, “are absolutely stunning, Swan.” He scanned her body a moment longer, watching the blush spread over her cheeks and across her chest as she flushed pink under his desirous scrutiny. He nosed along the creases of her thighs and up the material that hid his goal before taking the top hem between his teeth, pulling it down until it hung from his mouth and letting it fall beside her on the blanket beneath them.

Fuck, that was hot, Emma thought to herself as she watched him lower his head and raise his hungry gaze to hers. The smirk on his face made her wonder for a moment if she had actually said it out loud.

Any concern she had about her comment was swept away as he gently flattened his tongue against her slick flesh, never breaking eye contact as he slowly licked an inquisitive stripe along her folds, dipping it between them just enough to pass over her clit before departing. The shiver that passed through her whole body at the contact was enough to make him do it twice more before diving in as deep as he could and mapping her inner walls with his tongue. He mumbled soft praises as he worked her—“Delicious…. Exquisite…. Divine….”—without ever fully pulling away to say them, too lost in the taste of her, as if he couldn’t get enough and didn’t want to lose even a drop of her essence. Soon he found the spot that made her hips buck and her thighs pull together, pressing against the sides of his head, and he reintroduced his fingers inside her as he licked at the spot relentlessly, knowing she grew ever closer to her release.

His scruff raked against her skin as her legs locked around him, her heels digging into his back, and she knew the raw streaks of raised red would burn later as they continued through Neverland on foot. But with the way he was making her feel in that moment, she figured it would be worth it.

The shaking overtook her suddenly and her back arched as he gave a particularly strong suck on her clit, and she came as he continued to fuck her with his hand and mouth. He reached up to silence her by pressing the curve of his hook to her lips as an overwhelmed cry caught in her throat. Taking the prosthetic into her mouth, she gently bit down on it and laved over it with her tongue to distract herself from the way he tended to her dripping core in kind. He lapped at her entrance until her waves of pleasure receded and she relaxed against the blanket, their chests heaving in an attempt to catch their breaths. He crawled over her body, hovering above her looking absolutely wrecked before he’d even been touched, his chin glistening with her release and his eyes blown wide with insatiable desire.

Their mouths crashed together and he laced his fingers through her golden locks while her hands anchored in the hair at the nape of his neck. She tasted herself on him as she traced his lips with her tongue and opened hers in invitation for his further exploration.

“You, my wanton lass, are far from quiet.” Hook attacked Emma’s lips with his own, her false rebuttal lost before it could be voiced as his tongue dipped between them and pulled her bottom lip between his teeth upon its retreat.

Emma hadn’t seen him reach for the panties he’d discarded next to her earlier until he pulled away and sat back on his haunches as he replaced his tongue with the wet scrap of material.

“Any other time, I’d love nothing more than to hear how I make you feel, but given the circumstances…,” he trailed off with a glance in the direction of their slumbering company not too far away, before returning his gaze to Emma with a smirk. “Luckily, there are ways to assist you.” He leaned over her once more to whisper in her ear, “Perhaps another time we can meet on my ship, sail far from the shore, just the two of us, and I’ll make you produce all manner of sounds for only me to hear. Hm?”

If he were expecting an answer, Emma couldn’t give him one. She told herself this was a one-time thing, just a way to blow off some steam and clear her head before the next long stretch of their journey through this land of mysterious horrors she wished she’d never have had to encounter like this. She wished Neverland could have stayed a story, though she wouldn’t admit out loud that she did prefer this real version of the fearsome Captain Hook.

Well, that and she now had a mouthful of cotton.

Emma watched as he unlaced his trousers, and she found herself unable to look away when he took himself in hand and passed the tip of his cock along her folds, aligning himself with her entrance before he stopped.

“Swan?” Hook said, bringing her out of her distracted stupor and calling her attention to his searching eyes, all of his bravado gone and replaced with a serious, patient tone. “Emma, are you sure?”

She hadn’t expected him to ask again, and that consideration for her wishes she hadn’t often encountered, paired with his rare use of her first name, only increased her desire to say yes. Unable to actually speak it, she held his gaze, hoping hers looked just as soft, and gently brushed her fingers down his cheek before she trailed them down his arms and gripped his hips with an encouraging nod.

Emma bit down hard on her makeshift gag and her head lolled back as he slowly sheathed himself inside her, the stretch burning in the best way with every inch as her body responded to his entrance with slick heat until he was fully seated within her. The feel of her around him took his breath away, and Hook braced himself on his elbows at either side of her as his head fell forward next to hers and he panted over her shoulder.

“Gods, you’re fucking perfect,” Hook whispered in her ear through gritted teeth. He finally began to move, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as he pulled back and slid home again and again. She pivoted her hips to meet him with each thrust, feeling a euphoric fullness every time she took him in deep that left her softly whimpering in protest upon his retreats.

It was too much and not enough and just right all at once. Emma’s hands slipped beneath Hook’s shirt and she raked her nails up and down his back before digging them into his flesh as she scrabbled for purchase to steady herself beneath him, and to draw him ever closer to her.

Her mouth grew dry as the material between her teeth absorbed what little moisture wasn’t being expelled from her body in arousal and sweat. She wanted to kiss him, but even if she could, his mouth was otherwise engaged, sucking a mark into the side of her neck before tonguing at the hollow of her throat on its way to brand her collarbone. She couldn’t be bothered to care if anyone would see the evidence of his claim, not while he was giving her nothing but pleasure as his hips snapped with purpose.

“Come for me, Emma.” Hook’s fingers returned to her clit to circle and tease it as they both neared their releases. “Let me feel you come on my cock.” He groaned louder than he meant to when her hands cupped his ass through his trousers. “I won’t last much longer, love.”

He almost lost it when she gripped him tighter and nodded with a downward glance before meeting and holding his gaze.

“Fuck, Emma,” he breathed, a lightheadedness overtaking him as everything inside him tensed and he slammed into her with abandon. Looping his hook under the edge of her panties that peeked out from between her lips, he tugged the material to remove it without wasting time to toss it aside, letting it drape over his prosthetic as he filled her mouth with his tongue instead in a hot slide.

“Killian,” she moaned in a whisper against his eager lips, finally able to speak to some extent as he ravished both her mouth and her aching core.

“What?” He said in breathless surprise, unsure of whether he’d heard her correctly or imagined it with his own pulse pounding in his head, his hungry and frantic eyes flitting from side to side as they searched hers. A soft smile spread across his face. That was the first word she’d spoken, not even his more colorful moniker she’d been accustomed to using, but—

“Killian,” she called him by his name again, feeling that same dizzy high he felt as she rocked forward into him. “Yes. Yes.”

Something inside him snapped, and he muffled his pleasured cries against her lips as he poured himself inside her, relentlessly thumbing at her clit to bring her to release. A rush of heat spread through her body as his cock pulsed inside her, and her walls fluttered around him as she rose and fell with him.

He pulled back for a moment and caught the thick whitish fluid that dripped from her core with the tip of his cock before pushing it deeper inside her with a desperate grunt until they both finally slowed their movements to a stop.

“That was—” Hook, the man full of innuendos, fell speechless as he carefully held himself above her, propped up on his elbows, and let his forehead drop to hers as he panted with hot breath over her lips.

A one-time thing, Emma wanted so badly to say, but she had trouble even believing herself then. The way he made her feel, the way she knew he felt, the way they felt together. None of it felt like a one-time thing. She knew what those were, but this right here with him, this could be so much more. And it both thrilled and terrified her.

“I know,” she said instead, trying desperately to process everything that had just happened, and everything she might have wished would happen in the future, if they’d have a future at all. Would they?

She subtly shook her head in an attempt to clear it and pulled him to her for another kiss before she lifted her panties off his hook and pressed her other hand to his chest where it was exposed by the low neckline of his shirt and vest, following his body with hers as she guided him back so she could sit upright. Flattening the material over her palm, she passed it between her folds and stared into the depths of his ocean blue eyes as she rubbed the damp cotton over his wet cock, making his jaw drop as his breath hitched in his throat.

“We can’t leave a mess, now can we?” Emma smirked. Pumping him with her covered hand, she took his cock into her mouth, and he hissed when she passed her tongue over the tip and groaned around him at the taste as it leaked a bit more of his release.

“Gods, Emma,” Hook stuttered as he leaned back on his hand for support before he stilled her by catching her wrist with his hook, and she released him with a soft pop and a mischievous smirk as she looked up at him. “Keep doing that, love, and there’s going to be a much more obvious tell.”

“Fine,” she conceded with a sigh, getting to her feet and slipping on her wrecked panties with a taunting wiggle of her hips as she pulled them up under the weight of his entranced gaze until he realized he’d been staring and cast his eyes toward the ground. She’d probably feel it later, the sweltering heat of the Neverland sun bound to leave her feeling stickier than its induced sweat already would, but knowing he’d know that his effects on her would be keeping her wet long after they’d finished their more enjoyable activities… well, her own potential discomfort would be a cross she’d be willing to bear without regret.

She continued to get dressed, and he gave her the decency of turning his back to her as she did and as he righted himself as well, an admittedly unnecessary gesture after the rather indecent act they’d just committed together, but oddly endearing nonetheless.

“Here, love,” Hook picked up his duster and held it open in offering for her to wear, but she waved him off with a smile.

“I’m okay now, thanks. It suits you better anyway. And besides,” Emma winked at him, “I think I prefer sharing it.”

Hook swirled it around himself with a dramatic flair to put it on, tucked his hand and hook in the pockets, and reached out to enwrap Emma in the heavy leather with him, eliciting a giggle as he held her close.

She certainly wasn’t cold anymore.

#csnlny #csjj2021 #captain swan #cs smut #cs ff #neverland smut #emma was cold #cs neverland new year #cs january joy #Captain swan neverland new year #captain swan january joy #csnlny2021 #csjj #kayla writes #my writing #my cs ff

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 5 months

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Christmas Reruns 2023--Day 1: A Christmas Miracle (1/3)

Rating: G

Word Count: 1868

Other chapters: 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

Note: This story was originally written in 2013, at the very end of the Neverland arc. It fits within my “A Wish Your Heart Makes” universe, so when there’s talk about “the second curse” or Camelot, it’s referring to that, not canon events.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A Christmas Miracle–Ch. 1

“No offense, Mary Margaret,” Emma said skeptically, “but that sounds like a terrible idea.” She walked quickly beside her mother, her head down and her gloved hands in her pockets. It was cold!

“Oh come on, Emma,” Mary Margaret coaxed, “It’ll be fun! And it’s Christmas; families should be together.”

“Yeah,” Emma answered with a sidelong glance, “normal families should be together, but what we have…well we should be the poster family for ‘dysfunctional’.”

They continued walking through Storybrook’s main street. Emma looked up into the sky. It looked like snow. Great, just what she needed!

“Now Emma,” Mary Margaret said, “you know that’s not really true. Look how well we’ve all worked together lately. First Neverland and then the new curse. I think we’re all starting to meld together.”

Emma sighed. “Let me get this straight. You want to have a party on Christmas Eve with the whole family…me, you and David, Henry, Neal, Regina, Gold and Belle?”

“Yeah!” Mary Margaret said looking eagerly into her daughter’s face. “I’ve thought it all out! We’ll rent out Granny’s. We can decorate a tree and have a white elephant gift exchange and sing carols and just…you know…follow all the Christmas traditions!”

“There better be a lot of eggnog at that party,” Emma muttered, “because we’re gonna need it.”

The two women turned the corner and headed toward Granny’s. Emma sighed again. It had been a week since they had broken the Camelot curse and everyone had come home to Storybrook. A festive atmosphere pervaded the whole town. Christmas was only a few days away, and it seemed Storybrook’s residents planned to celebrate with a vengeance this year. They had put up the largest Christmas tree Emma had ever seen in the town square. Everyone had contributed their own unique ornaments, and Regina and Mr. Gold had used their magic to deck the upper branches, too high for anyone to reach…even with a ladder.

Emma should be happier, she knew she should, but she couldn’t help the feeling of dread that covered her like a blanket. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. She didn’t trust the calm and the peace. Between the original curse, she and her mother being transported to the Enchanted Forest, Henry being taken to Neverland, and the new curse…well, it seemed that every time they had a chance to take a breath something else terrible happened.

“What on earth is that all about?” Mary Margaret asked laughing as she pointed a gloved finger toward Granny’s. Emma peered in the direction her mother was pointing and couldn’t help the laugh that burst forth from her. There stood Grumpy dressed in a Christmas elf costume, complete with hat and pointy boots. He sang “Jingle bells” at the top of his lungs while somehow simultaneously scowling with all his might.

“Grumpy,” Mary Margaret said through her laughter, “what are you doing? I’ve never known you to be overflowing with Christmas spirit.”

“Let me tell you sister,” Grumpy said frowning in their direction, “if Happy ever offers to make a bet with you. Run. As fast as you can. In the opposite direction.”

Emma laughed as she opened the door to Granny’s and gestured Mary Margaret in. Mary Margaret headed to their favorite booth and Emma followed. She glanced quickly through the diner as she slid into her place opposite her mother. She refused to admit, even to herself, that she was looking for him, but she couldn’t deny the wave of disappointment she felt when she found the diner completely lacking a certain leather-clad pirate. They had worked so closely together over the past few weeks, first in New York, then in the Enchanted Forest, and finally in Camelot. He had become such a normal part of her life that it felt weird if a day went by when she didn’t see him. Surely that was the cause of her disappointment at not seeing him; surely there was nothing more.

But the fact was, she had wondered those last few days in Camelot whether…something…was starting to develop between them. He had been so, she didn’t know, devoted to her. Sometimes she would look up and see him gazing at her…and his gaze was as tender as a caress.

He had as much as told her he loved her in Echo Cave on Neverland, but then they’d gotten back to Storybrook, and he’d been so distant. It was almost like he was pushing Neal on her. She just didn’t get it. How was she supposed to figure him out? If she couldn’t even figure him out, how the hell was she supposed to figure out how she felt about him?

“So,” Emma said, idly picking up a menu from the rack near the window, “is David meeting us here?”

“Yeah,” Mary Margaret said glancing at her own menu, “He said he’s running a little late, but he should be here soon.”

The radio blared “Santa Baby” as several more people rushed into the diner, each clearly in a hurry to get out of the cold winter wind.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret said hesitantly, “you don’t really mind, do you? I mean about the family Christmas party.”

Emma dropped her eyes. “No, I guess not,” she answered, “Just don’t get your hopes up, ok? You get this group of people together, there’s bound to be fireworks.”

“Well,” Mary Margaret said with a smile, “that’ll just be more decoration for Christmas!”

“You are such an eternal optimist!” Emma said shaking her head. She couldn’t stop the small smile that draped her lips.

“Eternal optimist,” David said as he slid into the booth next to Mary Margaret and gave her a quick kiss, “you must be talking about my wife.”

“The very one,” Emma said unwrapping the straw Ruby had just brought with her iced tea.

“Henry not coming today?” David asked after giving Emma a hug.

“Nope,” Emma answered, “he’s with Neal today.”

Her parents exchanged a quick concerned glance.

“How’s everything going,” David asked, “you know, between you and Neal?”

Emma looked down. She supposed she might as well tell them. They’d been subtly…and not so subtly pushing her toward Neal for the past week. Why did they insist she be with him?

“There is nothing between me and Neal,” she said looking straight into her father’s eyes. “We had a talk the day after we all got back. I’m sure there’s a part of me that will always love him, but I’ve moved on. We’re both different people now. We had our moment, and now it’s gone.”

“Are you sure, honey?” Mary Margaret asked, reaching over and taking Emma’s hand. Emma smiled at her mother. After a lifetime of being on her own, it was nice to have someone care about her…worry about her happiness.

“Yeah, mom,” Emma said. The joy on Mary Margaret’s face at her use of that one little word was well worth it. “I’m sure. I’ve seen true love. I see how you and Dad are together, and, well, that’s not how it was with me and Neal.”

“But..” her mom tried again. Why was she so insistent?

“Mom,” Emma cut in, “If we’re going to have a Christmas party the day after tomorrow, we better start planning.”

Mary Margaret looked up at her for another moment and then slowly nodded. They talked and laughed throughout their meal. It was wonderful to just have a nice normal dinner with her parents. No curses, no lost boys, now evil shadows, no life-or-death catastrophes, no imminent danger.

“So then Archie slipped on the icy sidewalk,” David said, “he managed to stay upright, but he dropped his grocery bag, and it spilled all over the road. Before he had a chance to pick anything up Pongo shot past him, grabbed his deli meat and had a nice little feast!”

“Hm,” Emma said sipping the last of her iced tea, “I guess I better get on city management to put down some salt on the sidewalks.”

“Yeah,” David said glancing out the window, “looks like it’s starting to snow.”

“Ugh!” Emma groaned following the direction her father was looking. “I hate snow.”

“Oh, come now love,” came a silky voice from her right. Emma’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice, “surely not.”

Emma looked up into Hook’s blue eyes and smiled in spite of herself. She scooted to her left and patted the seat next to her. He smiled and took the seat she indicated.

“Yep,” she answered him, “detest it. Snow means traffic accidents, icy sidewalks, and general headaches for the sheriff’s department.”

Hook turned toward her and smiled. His hook brushed her hand, and a jolt of electricity shot from the spot throughout her whole body. What was wrong with her? “No, love,” he said, “snow means snowmen and sleigh rides and snowball fights.”

“I don’t have time for any of that,” Emma said, looking up at the handsome pirate.

“Perhaps you should make time,” he said. Was it just her imagination or had he put a little emphasis on that last word?

David cleared his throat, and Emma started. Had she really just been looking deeply into Hook’s eyes? In front of her parents? What was wrong with her? She needed to get a grip!

“Hook,” David said with a nod in the pirate’s direction.

“Charming,” Hook answered with an identical nod of the head.

“At any rate,” Hook said to the table at large picking up the conversation where it had left off, “with Christmas only a few days off, it is only right we should get some snow.”

Emma glanced up at him and saw a small wistful expression on his face. Did he have anyone to spend Christmas with or would he have to spend a lonely day by himself? The thought hurt her somehow.

“Speaking of Christmas,” Emma said before she could think better of it, “we’re having a little family celebration the day after tomorrow. Would you like to come?”

Now where had that come from? Wasn’t the party going to be awkward enough as it was without adding Hook to the mix? Did she really want him there? Yes, said the small, honest voice in her head. The fact was, it seemed he belonged with them. With me the voice insisted. She gave her head a tiny shake as if to clear it. What was wrong with her?

He smiled down at her, but shook his head. “I don’t wish to impose on a family celebration.”

“Oh come on,” Emma cajoled smiling up at him, “after all you’ve done for us, both in getting Henry back and in helping to break the new curse, you practically are family”

“We really would be happy to have you,” Mary Margaret said, reaching out to pat Hook’s arm.

His smile grew. “I wouldn’t miss it for all the rum in the Caribbean.”

NEXT CHAPTER-->

#christmas reruns 2023 #cs fanfiction #cs christmas fics #my fanfiction #a christmas miracle

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cosette141 · 2 years

Text

Lost and Found (OUAT CS fanfic) | Chapter Five

Fandom: Once Upon A Time

Author: cosette141

Words: 7k (this chapter) | 32k+ total (so far)

AO3: ch1 | ch5 (this one)

big thanks to @sotangledupinit for reading this over for me! <3

Chapter 5 (under the cut!)

Peter Pan fixed a glare on the Lost Boys surrounding him.

He'd felt the weakening of his magic begin nearly a year ago. But as of late, it's gotten worse and worse.

And he knew it wasn't his magic, per say.

It was him.

Losing his magic was just a symptom.

Fusing back with his Shadow had helped marginally, but even that strength had waned. They hadn't had a new Lost Boy in ages, but Pan didn't care about Lost Boys anymore; he was bloody dying, and if he didn't get a heart, one powerful enough to save him, someone who has pushed off death more than anyone else in existence, nothing would.

He'd heard about the Savior from some of the mermaids—spies, really—and not only was she a Savior, she'd broken the Dark Curse with her belief. Belief, and True Love's Kiss, but that belief was what he needed.

Long ago, back when he first became Peter Pan, eternal life came with the threat of losing it, and needing to one day find the heart of the Truest Believer.

That day, has come.

He knew a mortal patsy would be no match for the Savior's magic, she needed to come here willingly. So when he learned she loved only one person—her son—his plan became clear.

What he hadn't expected was for Hook to return.

In the boy's place, no less.

Hell, back when Hook was in Neverland, he'd traded a boy for his own protection.

Even more, the idea that Hook had some sort of connection to this Savior, strong enough to lead her here after him, was curious.

Not curious enough to Pan to care much, but that meant that he now had a card to play.

The magic of a portal opening on Neverland was impossible to miss, so he knew she was here.

Where exactly on the island she was, was something entirely different.

Though the Savior was here, his magic was too faded. When he was once so intune with the island, he was essentially now blind to anything his eyes couldn't see. If only he hadn't already used up the pixie dust he's collected.

But Neverland was a land that was difficult to leave. So, essentially, a hostage in his back pocket or not, the Savior was trapped here. He would find her at some point. It was just a matter of time.

Time, however, that he was running out of.

"He's trapped," said a voice, as Felix walked through the trees. "Hook won't be going anywhere."

Had Pan been able to put a layer of magic on that cage, he'd be more confident in that. But Pan knew Hook; he was mortal and had no magic of any kind—not even a weapon, now—but he was irritatingly resourceful. So, leaving the pirate weak was for the best. The magic Pan had used to heal him—mostly heal him, anyway—nearly drained all of his strength. The moment Hook fell, Pan nearly did himself.

He's getting worse.

He needs that heart now.

So, he snapped up his eyes to the waiting Boys, eyes passing over Felix before the rest, the only one of them who knew the extent of his weakness, and Pan barked, "Find me the Savior. Now." But before they moved, added, "I need her alive. Her condition is of less concern."

After a half a second hesitation, the Boys gave a determined nod, readying weapons and split up, dispersing into the woodland.

-.-.-.-.

He's alive.

The two words have been something of a mantra in Emma's head with every footstep. It was a hope. A wish.

They'd been walking for what felt like hours. Neal was leading them, Emma somewhat behind him, and David and Mary Margaret a few paces behind her. The four of them traveled in relative silence, Neal being the only one speaking, warning them about what not to touch, and what really not to touch.

They'd not ventured inland yet, as Neal had theorized that the portal that took Killian would have probably let out on the beach. So, they followed the beach, the water unnaturally still beside them. Emma found her gaze wandering to it more than once, swearing she could see something move underneath it, and she was suddenly glad she didn't take up her prior theory that she could handle a mermaid.

The time on the island only served to make Emma's skin crawl, wondering how Killian spent centuries here and still managed to stay sane. Or Neal, for that matter, which was something she hadn't considered until now. The fact that Neal had spent hundreds of years here before meeting her was something she couldn't quite grasp, either.

Somewhere along the way, Emma had taken Killian's hook out of her pocket, her left hand curling around the steel. And it seemed to settle some of her nerves, like despite the coldness of the steel, it sent a warmth into her, something that made her feel like they were going to find him.

Something like hope.

But that didn't quite erase the panic sitting in her chest, twisting around her heart.

She'd relax when she was safely back in his embrace.

And he in hers.

Emma was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she nearly ran into Neal's back, who'd stopped.

"What—" began Emma, breaking the silence, when she saw Neal tense, as if he saw something.

But Emma's eyes looked over his shoulder, down a ways on the beach.

And there, was the outline of a body, silhouette black against the sand.

Unmoving.

So, unnaturally still.

Emma's breath caught with a sharp gasp.

"Emma—" began Neal suddenly, voice just as tight as her throat felt, and he moved almost to block her from the sight.

But Emma was already running, lungs burning because she couldn't breathe.

Killian.

Oh, god, Killian—

But as she got closer, she could make out the figure lying in the sand.

It wasn't Killian.

Emma nearly collapsed with relief.

She stopped, catching her breath, staring down at Greg Mendel.

He was lying on his back, an arrow in his chest, eyes shut, body still. He was more than dead.

Another breath released with relief at Emma's side, and she felt more than saw Mary Margaret and David staring down at him.

"Greg Mendel?" breathed David, bending down to look at the arrow in his chest, swallowing hard.

"This was the guy who did it?" asked Neal, to Mary Margaret's nod. Neal squinted toward the moon, then back to the beach. "The portal dropped them here then."

"And then someone killed him?" commented David.

"But if they both fell through… where's Killian?" asked Mary Margaret hollowly.

The entire rest of the beach was bare.

But Emma was numbly walking around Greg's body, to the sand that was dark with what could have passed as dampness from water in the darkness.

The sand was displaced, as if from an impact.

Emma slowly bent down, picking up some of the sand, lifting it to the light of the unnaturally full moon.

The sand was dry.

It wasn't wet, it was stained.

"He was here." she choked out tightly.

Soft footsteps approached her. "Is that blood?" asked David.

"He was here," was all she could say, feeling her heart pick up. She dropped the sand, eyes snapping up to the sand, the surrounding area. She felt the bail bondswoman in her, the sheriff attempt to gain control.

But she's never needed to look for clues and evidence amongst panic squeezing the air out of her chest, because where was he?

"Look."

Mary Margaret was a few paces away, bending at the sand. She looked at Emma. "Footsteps," she said, getsuring to what were clearly several sets of footprints in the sand. "And…" She swallowed, eyes dropping to the other marks in the sand.

But Emma saw what she did, feeling her chest burn. She walked over to her, staring at the markings in the dirt. "Someone was dragged," she whispered. That panic was making it harder and harder to breathe.

Neal stood from where he'd bent next to Greg's body, eyes on the arrow in the man's chest. "This arrow is from a Lost Boy."

"So…" David broke the tense silence.

"Pan found him." confirmed Neal gravelly.

Emma's breath hitched.

At it, Mary Margaret's hand reflexively moved toward Emma's shoulder, before stopping an inch away, pulling it back, like she wasn't sure if her attempt at comfort was welcomed or not.

Emma barely noticed.

She was staring at the dirt where Killian had been.

Killian was taken.

By the one person who hated him most.

And she still didn't know if he was even still…

Her eyes burned.

"Trust me, love."

Emma took a shaking breath.

Hope.

"They took him," said Emma, voice unsteady as she lifted her burning gaze to Neal. "If he was…" Her voice caught, but she forced out, "Or if they wanted to k-kill him, they would have just left him here, too." Her gaze drilled into Neal's. "Right?"

Neal took a breath, seeming to read every unhinged emotion in her eyes. Slowly, he nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised if Pan wanted to have a… word with Hook before he… you know."

Emma couldn't stop the flinch that time.

And, again, she expected Killian's fingers to find hers.

But they didn't.

And his absence only became more and more hollow and cold.

Emma took a shuddering breath, and tried to keep herself together.

"Pan's twisted as all hell," said Neal, "but he also likes his games. I wouldn't put it past him."

Emma took another breath, feeling the concerned gazes of David and Mary Margaret on her. She reached for some of that broken armor, holding onto hope as hard as she could. "Where would he take Killian?" she asked numbly.

Neal hesitated with a wince, like he knew where Emma was going with the question, and it was the utter last thing he wanted to do. He seemed to be just as, if not more, afraid of Pan than he had been of his own father. But after a few seconds, he relented: "Probably his camp; sort of like his headquarters on the island."

"Do you know how to get there?" asked Emma instantly, unable to keep the desperation out of her voice.

With even more reluctance, Neal shut his eyes before saying, "Just to clarify, you're talking about going up against Pan, someone who has magic—"

"Well, so do I," snapped Emma, though her feelings did not match the confidence her words held, as her control on her magic was practically nonexistent. But her magic had helped her save Killian from Cora; it was bound to help her against Pan, too.

That made Neal's brows shoot up. "You have magic?"

"It's part of the whole Savior, breaking-the-curse thing," muttered Emma.

Neal shook himself, like that was impossible to grasp. "Even so, Pan is—"

"You came here to help me save Killian," Emma cut in sharply. "If you don't want to face Pan like you didn't want to face your father—" Neal flinched. "—then just tell me how to get there, and I'll save Killian myself."

"No, you won't," said David firmly. "Emma, we're with you every step of the way. We agreed to save Hook, no matter the risk."

"We defeated Regina and Cora," said Mary Margaret just as firmly, meeting Emma's eyes. "We can defeat Pan, too."

Three sets of eyes turned to Neal, who let out a heavy sigh. But, he nodded. "Pan's camp is a ways away from here," he began, words so reluctant, it was like they were carved in stone. "Let's go."

Neal drew his cutlass, heading into the trees with another heavy sigh. Emma followed behind him, Mary Margaret and David behind her, and the four of them started their way into the heart of the island.

Emma kept one hand on the hilt of Killian's sword, determination and fear battling fiercely in her chest.

I'm coming, Killian.

-.-.-.-.

What must have been hours—but felt like days—had passed with the four of them, Emma, Neal, Mary Margaret and David, venturing further and further inland.

As they did, the vegetation became thicker and fuller, requiring Neal to cut them a path. Wordlessly, David had joined him at some point, when it was clear that it was no longer a one-person job.

The island grew even more silent the more they walked, and the hair on the back of Emma's neck had risen. There was no change at all in the sky, though Neal was using glimpses of it to keep track of where he was, in a way that Emma had seen both Killian and Henry do while sailing. The curiosity of how Neal and Killian knew each other was still somewhere inside her, but far too buried beneath fear to even bother wondering.

The more they were on the island, the worse Emma felt. At first she'd thought it was the panic in her chest, her worry for Killian, which certainly made her feel just short of crumbling, but there was something else. Something in the air that felt suffocating in a different way. It took her a while to place it, and when she did, a chill swept down her spine.

It felt lonely.

She hasn't felt this kind of lonely in ages. Not since the foster homes.

It was the distinct feeling of vulnerability and helplessness. Of… emptiness.

"I spent many years in Neverland, land of the lost and abandoned. The Lost Boys shared the same look in their eyes; the look you get when you've been left alone."

Killian's words from the Beanstalk flitted through her mind, and suddenly Emma's eyes burned, only missing him more. Only feeling more alone, despite the company she was in. Their company specifically made her feel even more alone; they were the three people who have hurt her more than anyone else in her life.

They were the three people who had her, and gave her away.

Emma tried her damn hardest to keep the emotions from prickling hotly at her eyes, and held onto that hope like it was a lifeline.

The four of them traveled in near-silence. Mary Margaret had slowly come up to Emma's side, glancing at her every couple of minutes. Emma could feel her desire to say something, but she didn't.

"No!"

Emma and Mary Margaret both stopped abruptly at Neal's low outburst, both their hands reaching for weapons.

But Neal had grabbed David's wrist, pulling his arm sharply back before David could chop through bushes laced with thorns.

David jerked against Neal's grip, but Neal pulled him back harder. "No," he repeated, harsher, and David yanked his wrist out of the man's grip, but didn't try to cut through again.

"I think I can handle some thorns," muttered David.

Neal bristled sharply at that. "It's not the thorns you need to worry about," hissed Neal. He gestured to it carefully. "It's the poison on them."

David, Emma and Mary Margaret carefully eyed the bushes, and Emma noted the black, ink-like liquid dripping from them.

"What is that?" asked Emma.

"It's called Dreamshade," said Neal, still glaring at David. "If that gets into your bloodstream, you're as good as dead." David glared back, but moved a step back from the bushes.

Without waiting for a response, Neal started cutting a path a safe distance from the Dreamshade. After a moment's hesitation, David joined him, and Emma and Mary Margaret followed behind.

"Are we close?" asked Emma.

"Yeah," said Neal, eyes warily scanning the darkness as he cut through. "Which is weird."

Emma's brows kneaded. "Why is that weird?"

"Because," said Neal, slicing through another plant. "We shouldn't have even been able to get this far inland without encountering a Lost Boy, or Pan himself." Neal paused for a second with his own musing, turning toward her. "And I can't help wondering why he would need to get some random guy to bring, um, Henry," he stumbled a little over the name with uncertainty, but rushed past it— "Pan sends his Shadow to kidnap kids. Something's… weird."

The mention of Henry sent a chill down Emma's spine, remembering how close she was to losing him.

But she shook it off, reminding herself he's safe, and tried to stay focused. "So, Pan's a lazy brat." she muttered.

Neal let out a breath, looking unconvinced, but continued cutting through the vegetation with David. After just a few swipes of their swords, the trees thinned out and opened into a clearing. Neal held back, breathing out, saying, "This is where his camp is."

Emma and Mary Margaret both drew their own weapons, and Emma felt herself hold her breath.

They stepped out, slow and careful, Emma's muscles taut with tension.

Except…

It was completely bare.

No one and nothing was in the clearing.

Neal stopped, lowering his sword. "This is where it was," he stressed, turning to them. "I swear—" He shut his eyes. "He must have moved it."

Emma felt her eyes burn. "You mean," she said slowly, "that you have no idea where his camp is now? You have no idea where he has Killian?"

"I haven't been here in a long time, and I've only seen his camp once!" Neal shot back. "I have no idea how often he moves it!"

Despair and hopelessness suddenly felt suffocating.

Emma stared at the emptiness of the area, feeling like it reflected every hope she had.

They had no idea, no idea, where to find Killian.

Killian, who was hurt, bleeding, dying—

"Trust me, love."

"I'm a survivor."

Emma shut her eyes at the echo of his voice, her fingers grasping the hilt of Killian's sword, her hope and hopelessness fighting each other to the death. Feeling every urge to shatter.

"Then we keep looking," said Emma firmly, opening her eyes, pushing the burning away as her hope pulled just barely ahead of the despair squeezing her heart.

She started forward, using Killian's sword to cut through the vegetation, creating a new path, feeling the others follow behind her.

And she wasn't going to stop until she found him.

-.-.-.-.

What must have been hours later of aching legs, feet and Emma's waning hope, the four of them had traveled to three other clearings where Neal had a hunch Pan would be, and every single one was bare.

Emma's eyes were burning again, with fear, hopelessness and exhaustion.

"We'll find—" began David, his tired mantra of we'll find him, but the words became emptier and emptier every time he said them to each dead end.

"We've been searching for hours," snapped Emma, voice rough with fear.

"I'm trying," began Neal, voice a little pained, and Emma huffed an anxious breath.

"I know," she said, because he was, and she could see his shoulders sag with every dead end.

"Emma," said Mary Margaret, voice tired but no less hopeful. "We'll—" But Neal suddenly hissed a sharp, "Shh!"

But Emma felt it, too.

The air became suddenly more still.

Tense.

They were being watched.

Both Mary Margaret and David seemed to feel it, too. The four of them scanned the darkness, and Emma slowly, silently drew Killian's sword. Mary Margaret swiftly grabbed an arrow from her quiver.

They were pin-silent for another long moment.

Until, something whistled through the air.

Neal reacted instantly, swiping his blade with a sharp reflex, cutting down an arrow from the air. "Lost Boys!" he hissed. "Their arrows are laced with Dreamshade; be careful—" he managed to get out before the Boy who had shot the arrow made himself visible, jumping through the trees. It struck Emma in an instant that the boy didn't look older than Henry.

"Emma, behind you!"

Emma whirled around at Neal's shout, seeing a different Lost Boy running at her, cutlass swinging toward her. She quickly jerked up Killian's sword to clash against the blade, her heart jumping into her throat. This Boy looked older than the first one, which certainly helped the moral pause of attacking what looked like a child.

Emma shoved hard, forcing the Boy to shift back, but he grinned, clearly finding this as sport. He swung the sword toward her feet, as if to trip her, and Emma barely jumped back before it sliced through her leg. The Boy's cutlass scraped the dirt, and Emma took the chance to swing Killian's sword at him, making him stumble back from the close call.

Encouraged, Emma swung it again with a growl, making the Boy shift back easily to avoid it, laughing at her, but her aim wasn't for his head, like he'd thought. Instead, it was for his hand, where he held his cutlass. He hissed as Emma struck his blade inches from his fingers, knocking it from his grip.

Apparently she was destined to win all swordfights by taking advantage of cockiness, then.

The Boy stared in shock at his cutlass in the dirt, but before he could grab it, Emma twisted Killian's sword in her grip, shoving the Boy harshly into the tree behind him, the blade under his chin.

"Where's Hook? Where is he?!" she demanded, panic and desperation fueling the angry words.

But the Boy just stared back at her, staring at the blade, then her, clearly not going to talk, but also clearly scared. Emma could feel how fast his heart was beating where her hand was pinning his chest into the tree. He stared at her in silence, eyes guarded by walls just as thick and strong as her were.

"They share the same look in their eyes; the look you get when you've been left alone."

Even amidst the clash of swords from the others, Emma could hear her own heart hammering in her head.

She slowly removed the sword from his throat.

The Boy sighed in relief, before Emma felt his muscles tense in preparation to attack.

He didn't get close.

She punched him, hard, watching him hit the dirt, unconscious.

Emma turned to help the others, who were fighting a Lost Boy of their own, yet seemed to be holding their own. However, before she could, a small but strong hand grabbed the back of her shirt, yanking her backward, pulling her into the trees.

Emma stumbled, a scream stuck in her throat, trying to regain her balance and shake off the grip as the arm pulled her. She gritted her teeth, twisting, swinging her sword toward—

"Wait, stop! Please!"

The youthfulness and the panic in the voice made Emma freeze, seeing a Lost Boy who looked even younger than Henry. Long dark hair that any parent would be brushing out of his eyes hung over his forehead, his eyes wide and his hands held out in front of him in surrender. "I want to help!"

Emma went rigid, Killian's sword held firmly in front of her. "What?"

"You're—you're looking for the pirate, right?" he stammered out. "Captain Hook?"

Emma's heart lurched. "Yeah," she found herself breathing.

"I know where he is," said the Boy, a little smile at his lips. "I can take you to him!"

Hope flared within her.

They had no idea where to look for Killian now, and his life was trickling away, second by second.

But Emma drilled her gaze into the Boy's, desperate hope held at bay, but her superpower remained silent. He did know where Killian was, and fully intended to bring her to him.

"He's right over here!" he shouted, turning and running further into the trees. "Hurry, before the other Boys see!"

Killian.

"Wait," called Emma, looking back toward the others. "Kid, wait—"

But the Boy didn't wait, running fast in the other direction.

Panic and desperation tightened her chest, making her heart pound.

With a wince, Emma made up her mind, tightened her grip around the hilt of Killian's sword, and ran after him, trying not to lose the Boy in the mass of leaves and darkness. The Boy was small and fast, looking back a few times to make sure she was following him, and she barely avoided the twigs and branches that scraped her face.

Emma finally found the Boy had come to a stop, and Emma looked wildly around. "Where is he?!" she breathed.

But… this area was just as bare as the last.

"I'm sorry, Savior."

Emma froze.

Instinct had her hand jerk Killian's sword in front of her, heart pounding as the Boy suddenly had a far less compassionate look in his eyes.

But before she could attack, the Boy swiftly pulled what looked like a straw out of his pocket, lifting it to his lips, making Emma recognize it as a blowdart half a second before he shot it.

Emma's eyes screwed shut, panic rushing through her—

—but suddenly, Emma felt a blast of warmth shoot through her body.

Her eyes snapped open, seeing a white-glow of her magic erupt like a shield in front of her. The dart struck it, an inch from her chest, and ricocheted, sending it straight into the Boy's shoulder.

He slumped to the ground, unconscious before he hit the ground.

Emma stared in shock as the glow shimmered out of the air, her body shaking with fear and adrenaline and magic.

She breathed hard, stumbling back, left hand settling over her pounding heart.

She shut her eyes, kicking herself.

Her superpower hadn't been wrong.

The Boy did know where Killian was, and was going to bring her to him.

Just not to save him.

But why the hell would he try to take her, rather than kill her?

Emma shook off the questions.

Still trembling from the incredibly close call, Emma suddenly remembered the others.

She ran back the way she came, hoping she hasn't been gone too long. The last thing she needed was to worry them and divert their attention from finding Killian.

But after what felt like the amount of time she'd chased the Boy, and the exact direction she'd come from…

…the clearing was nowhere in view.

Emma stopped, turning in a circle, trying to see through the dark trees for the clearing, trying to listen for the voices of the others.

But all she could see was trees, and all she could hear was silence.

Her heart picking up, she tentatively called, "Mary Margaret?" She started running again, feeling a horrible sense of fear creeping up her spine. "David?" she called, louder. "Neal?"

Nothing.

She stopped again, unable to hide the panic from her voice. "David?!"

Her voice echoed into the silence.

Emma felt her breath hitch.

"No, no, no," she whispered.

She could not be lost.

God, how could she have been so stupid?!

"Mary Margaret! David!" Emma tried again, voice cracking, a tear burning down her cheek because she wasn't scared anymore, she was terrified.

"Killian," whispered Emma, another tear burning down her cheek.

But still, no one replied.

She was alone.

And she was lost.

-.-.-.

Mary Margaret took down the last Lost Boy with an arrow to the chest, who had nearly taken off David's head. She let out a breath in relief, and David shot her a relieved look of thanks.

Neal hadn't understated just how savage the Boys were; Mary Margaret had fought less capable soldiers. The past several minutes were caught in a flurry of flying arrows and blades.

"Was that the last one?" asked David, out of breath, sword still branded in front of him. The Boys that attacked were all either downed or had fled.

"Yeah, I think so," said Neal in a low, breathless voice.

But Mary Margaret, spinning in a wild circle as she scanned the clearing, didn't share in their relief. "Where's Emma?" she asked, voice tight and pained, because the clearing was empty except for them.

Neal and David suddenly tensed, seeing the clearing as bare as she did.

"She…" began David hollowly. "I saw her fighting one of the Lost Boys, and then…"

"She took him down," agreed Neal, running to the downed Lost Boy on the other side of the clearing, where Mary Margaret had seen the flash of Emma's hair before a Lost Boy had attacked Mary Margaret.

The Boy was lying in the dirt, unconscious, a blackening bruise over his temple.

"Emma!" cried Mary Margaret, running into the trees behind the Boy, wildly whipping her head around, feeling panic consume her. She tried to catch the blond of Emma's hair, but there was nothing in the trees.

"Emma!" called David at her other side.

"Emma!" cried Neal.

But there was no response to their shouts, and Mary Margaret exchanged a panicked look with David.

"Split up!" said Mary Margaret, running in one direction, marking trees as she went, seeing David and Neal run in opposite directions, making their own markings. The silence of the area was broken with shouts of Emma's name, but still, no sign of her.

Mary Maragaret stopped, panic tightening her chest so much it was hard to breathe. "Emma!"

But still, nothing.

She turned around, heading back to the clearing, following the path she made for herself, begging that David or Neal found her.

But by the time she broke back through the trees and into the clearing, David and Neal were already there, panting, and looking just as desperately to her, like they'd hoped she'd be the one to have found Emma.

"Where is she?" breathed Mary Margaret, eyes burning. "David—"

"None of us saw what happened to her?!" exclaimed David, one of the few times Mary Margaret has seen him overwhelmed with panic. "She couldn't have just disappeared!"

"Did one of them take her?" breathed Mary Margaret, feeling her fear build.

"They have no reason to take her," said Neal exasperatedly. "They were trying to kill all of us! If she was hurt, she wouldn't have evaporated into thin air," he said heavily, eyeing them both. He hesitated, something sad and dark in his eyes. "She might not have been forced to leave." he said in a low, pained voice.

Mary Margaret felt cold shoot down her spine. "What?"

"She's pissed at all of us," said Neal. "She didn't want any of us to come with her in the first place, and my only idea of where to find Hook didn't work."

"What the hell are you trying to say?" snapped David. "That she left us?"

"I'm just saying that's what it looks like," said Neal.

"Yeah," David shot back, "doesn't surprise me that your first idea is that she up and left, because that's all you—!"

"Yes, I left her!" exploded Neal. "Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I regret that with every cell in my body? Why the hell do you think I'm here!?" Rawness broke into his words. "I made a mistake. And if I could go back and change it, I would. But I can't. And neither can you," he snapped, making Mary Margaret flinch and David tense. Silence spread for a moment before Neal took a breath, as if an attempt to steady himself, and said, "I'm just saying that there's no sign of a struggle. And… we can't blame her if she decided to go on her own to find the one person who didn't leave her."

Guilt that has been building more and more in Mary Margaret's chest felt like it was choking her. She thought her biggest regret of her life was telling Regina's secret; turning Regina into the person, the evil Queen, she became.

But now…

Now, she'd give everything to have made a different choice with Emma.

"You have no idea what I've been through! None of you do!"

Mary Margaret felt her eyes burn.

She and David had hated Neal for what he did to her, and though she still did, both he and Emma were right.

She and David left her, too.

And their reasons weren't much better.

But she tried to shake off the emotions—they needed to find her.

She scanned expert eyes over where Emma had been.

Yet… Neal was right; there was no sign of struggle.

But Mary Margaret knew Emma. At least, she knew the Emma she'd become friends with. She didn't know her daughter, not yet, but she knew her friend.

She shook her head. "No." she said firmly, eyes still burning. "Emma's smart; she wouldn't go off on her own, not without backup. No matter… no matter how she was feeling about us," she whispered. "That's why she accepted our help in the first place." She looked at David, confidence wavering. "...Right?"

David hesitated for a moment, looking like his mind was spinning over the same guilt and fear as hers. "I don't know," he admitted. He huffed a breath. "But I don't care how she disappeared; we're going to find her."

"We better," added Neal gravelly, "before a Lost Boy, or Pan himself does."

The fear that rushed through Mary Margaret's body felt like ice.

The three of them started through the woodland, three pairs of eyes scanning the trees for a flash of blonde.

"You found us."

Emma had waited for them to find her, her whole life.

Well, it was their turn, now.

It was their turn for a lot of things.

And Mary Margaret was not going to let her down again.

-.-.-.

Killian collapsed against the side of the cage for what felt like the tenth time after hours—days, for all he knew—of fighting the bloody cage. Because damn it, he needed his hook.

Most of the wall he'd been working on was cracked and weakened, but hell, so was he. He shut his eyes, wondering how long he's even been here. He was quickly remembering just how disorienting this island was, the forever night, the way time literally stood still. It could have been hours or days. It didn't help that the effects of his blood loss were not particularly healed from Pan's magic. He was bloody exhausted.

But one more thought of Emma out there, and Killian was forcing himself back to his feet.

Killian alternated slamming the heel of his boot and his shoulder into the weak spot of the cage, feeling it weaken more and more with every blow. He was sore and aching and a growl tore from him at a particular hard strike, but just as he rammed his shoulder into it…

…It broke.

The force of his hit had Killian collapsing hard to the dirt, swallowing the groan at the impact.

But he didn't bloody care.

His eyes snapped open, and he felt a tired, shaky grin at his lips.

He was free.

Killian didn't waste a second.

He forced himself to his feet, moving to run toward the trees, only for his eyes to catch the glint of something off the moon.

With a startled yelp, Killian threw himself backward, just as the swipe of a blade nearly took off his head.

The tip of the blade nicked his cheek, sending him stumbling back into the trunk of a tree, the cut stinging sharply. Killian breathed hard, snapping his head around, seeing someone he nearly hated as much as he hated Pan himself.

Felix.

Of bloody course they didn't leave him unsupervised.

The Lost Boy sneered at him, his blade held out in front of him as he grinned. "You're getting soft in your old age, Captain." With a growl, he swung the blade again, this time at his chest, and Killian dove quickly out of the way, hearing the sickening crunch of Felix's blade striking the trunk of the tree he'd just been leaning against.

Killian picked himself up, eyes scanning the area for a weapon, something, because he was bloody one-handed and weaponless.

But the cutlass was swinging at his throat again, and Killian stumbled back, his reflexes slowed with his exhaustion, barely avoiding the blade. Felix grinned, swiping the blade at him again, and with a hammering heart, Killian managed to catch the boy's wrist, using every ounce of his strength to hold him back. But one hand wasn't enough, damn it all, he needed his hook, and Felix overpowered him, shoving him to the ground. Killian kept a desperate grip on the boy's wrist, his arm shaking with effort as the blade hovered inches from his throat.

Bloody hell, he was not letting this brat kill him.

Nothing and no one—bloody no one—was going to keep him from getting back to Emma.

"Not so tough without the hook, are you?" sneered Felix, shoving harder, making Killian's arm shake harder with the effort, his left arm useless at his other side.

Or was it?

In one sharp movement, Killian jerked his right hand, as well as Felix's two hands on the blade, an inch to the side, throwing the boy slightly off balance.

And then, he used every ounce of his strength to strike Felix in the face with his left arm.

His left arm was far weaker than his right, especially without the hook, but he didn't need the hit to knock him out; he needed it to surprise him, and it did exactly that. Felix wasn't expecting a bloody thing from Killian's left arm.

Felix's head snapped back in surprise, his grip on the blade weakening enough for Killian's hand to twist Felix's wrist sharply until he dropped it with a cry, and ram his knee hard into Felix's midsection.

Felix fell to the ground, hands grabbing at his ribs, and Killian jerked off the ground, grabbing the discarded cutlass. He made it to his feet by the time Felix got back to his knees, and Killian swiped the blade under Felix's chin, making the boy's eyes snap open with shock and rage.

Breathing hard, Killian held him at swordpoint, and Felix glared at him.

He'd thought of killing this particular Lost Boy many times before.

But something in him, something that changed that day in New York, whispered that he didn't want to be the coldblooded killer he used to be anymore.

So, slowly, he lowered the blade.

Felix watched the blade lower with raised brows. Then, he lifted his gaze to Killian. "Coward," he hissed.

But Killian smiled, and slammed the hilt of the weapon into the side of Felix's head.

The boy slumped to the ground, unconscious.

"That felt bloody good," he muttered. Killian held his breath, listening and scanning the area for any other Lost Boys. But everything was still and silent. And if Pan left Felix, his best Lost Boy, Pan assumed he'd be enough to handle a weaponless, one-handed pirate.

Except, Pan happened to underestimate just how badly Killian needed to return to Emma.

Killian removed the scabbard from across Felix's chest and kept the cutlass, glad to have a weapon. He then ran into the trees, away from Pan's camp, as fast as he could.

I'm coming, Emma.

-.-.-.

Emma had no idea how long she'd been trying to find her way back to the clearing. It was terrifyingly clear that she was more than lost. There was still nothing but trees and silence.

She stopped to catch her breath, heart pounding from exertion and fear. The squeak of a bug sounded by her ear, making her flinch violently, hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.

And she was suddenly flashing back to the years she spent homeless, terrified of anything that moved, afraid to sleep, afraid of everything—

Emma started running again, desperation moving her legs, calling their names until her voice was hoarse.

But still, no response.

No clearing.

No one.

Emma stumbled to a stop, feeling the hopelessness, the loneliness.

She hasn't felt this lost since before she came to Storybrooke.

Since the foster homes.

Since Neal left her.

She sank down to the base of a tree, her hands shaking, panic filling her.

What if she never found anyone?

"I never want to see you again."

The words to Mary Margaret and David had been fueled with fear and hurt and anger—

But now…

She's lost Killian and her family.

Her heart pounded faster, feeling completely unraveled, feeling broken.

Her trembling fingers reached desperately for Killian's hook, like a reflex.

She needed him.

She grasped the metal tightly, eyes shutting against the onslaught of fear.

And Killian's hook did the same thing it's done every time she'd held it; it filled her with a warmth that spread through her, filling her with this hope, this—

Emma's eyes snapped open.

Warmth.

It wasn't metaphorical.

And it wasn't warmth.

She stared at the hook, eyes widening.

Every time she'd held it, she hadn't looked at it.

And all this time, she hadn't linked that warmth to what it really was.

It was her magic.

And there, she could see the faint white glow around the steel as it radiated her power.

That warmth had been faint when she held his hook on his ship.

She'd started to feel it more on the beach.

And as they walked through the trees, it got stronger—

Because she was getting closer to him.

Emma had read something in Henry's storybook, a story about her parents. Rumplestiltskin had used his magic to enchant their wedding ring, and gave it to Charming; it would glow brighter the closer he got to her.

If it was glowing, that had to mean he was still alive.

And by just how much it was glowing, that meant she was close.

A shaky smile slipped over Emma's face.

Her magic had somehow done it all on its own.

She shot to her feet, one hand still tightly holding Killian's sword, her other, his hook.

She tried to embrace that warmth, that magic inside her, and suddenly it felt like she could understand it even more. She followed it as it gently nudged her direction, like following a compass.

Hope was as desperate as her panic.

She was going to find him.

She was going to save him.

"I'll find you, Killian," she breathed, running faster as her magic grew stronger.

I will always find you.

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