#hope you enjoy auburn; and thank you for supporting the soul match au in it's infancy ^v^

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Nights Spent In; Azul Ashengrotto

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, established relationship

Word Count; 700+

Author's Note; This is for one of my first mutuals @azulashengrottospiano! I hope you enjoy this, and some domestic Azul! [and I'm keeping a screenshot of your ask ^v^]

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

Safe to say your social battery was pretty much at zero. You had fun, yes, but all you wanted to do was stay at home in some ridiculously comfortable pyjamas, eat leftovers from lunch, cuddle a bit, and maybe look through the storage container labelled Games! :D since there could be some hidden gems in there. And right now you were cuddled up under a super chunky knit blanket, snug as a bug in a rug.

You were content just putting the leftovers from lunch in the microwave, but Azul had insisted that he made the both of you dinner. You didn’t mind, since you had a nice view of him working away in the kitchen, muttering the recipe of tonight’s dinner to himself. He was even wearing the frilly apron and kitschy oven mitts.

What a dork. I love him so much. You giggled to yourself, watching Azul go about the kitchen, off in his own little world. 

Sighing, you got up — the blanket draped over your shoulders so you were still in your nice blanket burrito — and shuffled over to the Games! :D container, seeing if there was anything interesting that Azul wouldn’t just automatically win. You loved him, but if he made you go bankrupt again in this world’s version of Monopoly one more time you swore that you weren’t going to give him any kisses. You may love him, but he was not a humble winner. 

So any strategy games were completely out the window, luck based games were more on your side… hopefully luck just decided to favour you tonight. At least you had a cute chef at the least.

Hmm? What’s this? Blowing off the dust you pulled out an old edition of Snakes and Ladders. It relied only on luck, so it was perfect!

“Hey, sweetie,” you called to the kitchen.

Azul was just placing your dinner in the oven, it would take about thirty minutes to bake, so he had time to spare… and for you? He could spare all the time in the world for you. “What is it, darling?”

You held up the game under your chin and gave him your biggest smile. “Wanna play?” You waggled eyebrows for some added flair, and it made Azul chuckle.

“Fine, one round, but I won’t go easy on you,” he said, sitting down at the coffee table. He eyed the game, and squinted his eyes at the dice. A luck-based game? Playing your cards right I see.

“You never do,” you shot him a wink and rolled the dice. You moved your piece forward, not hitting any ladders.

Azul rolled his eyes, but took his turn, overtaking you by two spaces, also not hitting any ladders. “Would you rather that I did?” He looked up at you through his lashes, a small smug smile on his face. 

You hummed as you took your turn, getting a ladder and going up a row. “No, it’s more fun like this, plus you’re extra cute when you get fired up.”

Azul pushed up his glasses, trying to ignore the warmth that had seeped into his cheeks. “Flattery won’t help you, my dear, when I win.”

“We’ll see about that.~”

The rest of the game was spent in silence, the occasional tch escaping when either of you hit a snake, but the game was neck in neck. You had to roll a perfect six to win, and Azul a four, and it was his turn. The both of you had your fingers crossed.

He rolled a two, the exact number that he didn’t want. He moved his piece forward and gritted his teeth as he moved it down two rows. He sighed, handing over the die. He knew that he had most likely lost this game.

You gently took it, and rolled a six. You had won. “Looks like luck was on my side tonight,” you grinned.

Azul grumbled, but he couldn’t stay mad at you. “Would you like a prize for that?” It was part sarcasm, but also part genuine question.

You placed a kiss on his cheek. “Just spending time with you is a prize in its own right… but I won’t say no to your cooking either!”

It wasn’t really a prize, as you were already getting his cooking for dinner, but it nonetheless made Azul feel soft and warm. The two of you really should spend more nights in if they were going to be like this.

~~~~~~~

Tags: @eynnwwyjth, @hydra-sea, @inkybloom-luv, @identity-theft-101, @krenenbaker, @officialdaydreamer00, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

#dove does events #follower event #twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto x gn reader #sha la la la my oh my! go on and ~kiss da 'zul~ #you cannot tell me that he wouldn't wear a frilly apron; he's a nerd you know he would #would it even be called snakes and ladders in twst? ... eels and ladders??? #idk but it would be funny if azul was silently cursing out the tweels #also; idk if you remember your ask BUT you did in fact request the same 3 people as last time ^v^ that was also a part of why i tagged you #- in the vil drabble. i diagnose you with azul trey and vil brain rot #this is technically a bonus drabble #scheduled post since idk if i'll be busy or not #hope you enjoy auburn; and thank you for supporting the soul match au in it's infancy ^v^

[searchingwardrobes]

Until the Day Breaks and the Shadows Flee: 8/8

A huge thank you to everyone who has gone along with me on this crazy mythological au! I have enjoyed every kudo, comment, and reblog more than I can say, and it kept me going when the muse was as fickle as Venus! Speaking of which, since Cupid and Psyche is a Roman myth, I have been using the Roman names for the gods and goddesses. However, when it was time to head to the Underworld, I just like the Greek names (Hades and Persephone) so much better than the Roman ones (Pluto and Porserpine). Since this is an AU and it’s mine, I just went with the Greek names for those two. Sorry if that bugs anyone!

I also am so grateful to everyone in the @cssns - all the writers and artists for their support and encouragement, and @kmomof4 for heading it all up. I can’t thank my beta @snowbellewells enough, especially tonight when I was finishing this up in the eleventh hour! Also huge thanks to @hollyethecurious for making the banner above which just perfectly captures the mood and setting.

Summary: Every night she traces the contours of his body as Killian whispers words of love against her skin. But can Princess Emma ever be fully happy with a husband who only comes to her in utter darkness? A Captain Swan AU of the myth of Cupid and Psyche.

Rating: M for sexual situations

Words: ~5,000 in this chapter

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Also on Ao3

Tagging: @jennjenn615 @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines@kday426 @nadine200179 @teamhook @bethacaciakay@profdanglaisstuff @distant-rose @shireness-says@mythologicalmango @wellhellotragic @branlovestowrite@xhookswenchx @optomisticgirl @winterbaby89@ultraluckycatnd @vvbooklady1256 @resident-of-storybrooke@spartanguard @thislassishooked @whimsicallyenchantedrose@tiganasummertree  @snidgetsafan @ohmakemeahercules@delirious-latenight-laughs @nikkiemms @gingerchangeling@revanmeetra87 @cocohook38 @effulgentcolors

Chapter Eight: A Seal Upon My Heart

If Emma had to pick just one word to describe the Underworld it would be colorless. The only hues that clung to the scant vegetation were in shades of grey. The very air itself hung thick with a smoky miasma, and it tinged the realm of the dead like a painting coated in eons of dust.

The castle of Hades and Persephone rose before Emma. Cerberus lay at her feet, each of his three jowls distracted by the thick biscuits Emma had given him. Her heart beat wildly as she hurried down the rocky path towards the castle which resembled a tower of jagged, broken glass in varying shades of black. She clutched the strap of her satchel, her feet hurrying lest Cerberus make quick work of the dog treats and come begging for more.

The closer she got, she more she worried. How did one go about making a request like this of a goddess? If Persephone had long held the flower of beauty close, why in the world would she give it to a mere mortal? And even before her request could be made, how did she begin to seek an audience with the Queen of the Underworld? She couldn’t just knock on the front door. Could she?

The decision was taken from Emma’s hands, however, the minute her foot touched the castle’s bottom step. Guards dressed completely in black, nothing but a cold void behind the visors of their helmets, seized her before she even had a chance to cry out. Their hands were so cold, they burned as she was forced up the steps and into the castle.

She was hauled down the black marble corridors. Emma kicked and struggled, but her efforts were futile. Please, she begged to whatever deity would still listen to her, don’t let them throw me in the dungeon!

The guards kicked open a heavy door of steel and dragged Emma into a cavernous room with a domed roof. At the end of it, two beings sat side by side on matching thrones. Relief flooded Emma, and she inwardly whispered a prayer of thanks. It wasn’t the entrance she had hoped for, but all that really mattered was that she had an audience with the king and queen. The guards thrust her roughly forward, and Emma fell to her knees on the hard, cold floor.

“How did you manage to get past Cerberus, mortal?” Hades asked.

Emma trembled as she lifted her gaze to the larger of the two thrones, but not because Hades was speaking in a thunderous voice. On the contrary, he sounded calculating and slightly . . . bored? His crisp suit, closely shorn hair, and neatly trimmed, pitch black goatee reminded Emma of that shady ambassador from the Southern Isles. Slimy her mother had called him. Of course, it woud be suicide to call the god of the Underworld that. Emma swallowed nervously.

“I . . . gave him a treat?” Emma winced when it came out like a question. Her plan had been to exude confidence, not grovel.

To her surprise, Hades threw his head back and laughed heartily. “Did you hear that, darling? Gave him a treat!”

He wiped at tears of laughter as his wife cast a smile in his direction. “Yes, dear. No mortal has cooked up a batch of those since . . . Ulysses?”

“No. no,” Hades corrected, waving a hand in the air, “I thought it was a female then, too. Medea? No . . . she was a witch, though. I think.”

As Hades debated over who last charmed his pooch, Emma took the opportunity to look more closely at Persephone. For someone who lived half the year in the Underworld, her complexion was almost radiant. Her hair was a deep brown, with streaks of auburn, and her eyes were bright amber. She gazed with humor and ease at her husband, her hand idly rubbing his forearm. Together, each detail made hope surge through Emma’s veins. She took a deep breath, then spoke as reverentially as she could while still infusing her voice with confidence.

“I was given the biscuits as a gift from the fairies to aid me in a very important quest.”

“A quest?” Hades asked, a sudden edge to his voice.

“Now, dear,” his wife admonished softly, “none of that.”

“Always with the quests! Do these mortals think I have nothing better to do down here?” he turned to Emma in exasperation. “Do you know what I go through? Do you?”

Emma didn’t know how to respond, so she simply shook her head.

“Processing each soul as it enters, weighing them on the scales. Coming up with fitting penance when necessary. Then processing those who move on to paradise. There’s far more to running this operation than anyone knows. And if that weren’t enough, mortals on quests, seeking guidance from the dead, or begging to let the dead free -”

“I’m not here for anyone who’s dead,” Emma bravely interrupted.

Hades blinked in surprise. “You’re not?”

Emma shook her head. “I’m trying to . . . free someone from Venus, but she’ll only let him go if I can get the flower of eternal beauty.”

“That shallow, insignificant excuse for a goddess,” Persephone snapped, her earlier peaceful facade falling away to reveal a truly powerful deity. “She’s been trying to get that flower from me for eons. Well, I’m sorry you’ve gone to all this trouble, but the answer is no.”

“Please!” Emma exclaimed, feeling no shame in groveling now. “I beg of you. I know it’s

a lot to ask, but -”

“You know nothing, mortal! Venus will waste the juice of that flower on herself though she

has absolutely no need of it. Simply so no one else will ever get their hands on it.”

“Maybe she wishes to have it so she can help those who lift up prayers to her.” Even as the words left Emma’s lips, she knew how ridiculous the suggestion was. She expected Persephone to laugh condescendingly. Venus certainly would have. Instead, the goddess scrutinized her until she was tempted to squirm.

“You’ve met Venus,” she finally said, “and I have a feeling you know full well how ridiculous you sound right now.”

Emma deflated, sinking into a heap upon the floor, her knees aching from kneeling on the cold marble. She lifted her gaze to Persephone. There was only one other option, and that was to be fully vulnerable with the goddess. If she turned out to be callous and cold, she and Killian were both doomed. She prayed that Persephone would prove compassionate instead.

“Once again, I beseech you, goddess of spring, Queen of the Underworld. I don’t ask this for myself. It is for the man I love, my husband. Venus has him under a sleeping curse.”

Hades tsked and shook his head. “She’s taken yet another lover? This is why I prefer these austere halls to Mt. Olympus. So much drama, I tell you.”

Persephone grinned at her husband and lifted his hand to her lips. Emma felt hope surge in her heart.

“He isn’t her lover,” Emma explained, “and he isn’t even mortal. Killian is my husband - Cupid, I mean. The son of Venus.”

“Killian!” Persephone exclaimed with a gasp. “That precious boy loved the springtime, you know. It’s why so many lovers choose that time of year for their wedding vows.” The goddess shook her head. “I say Venus may be the goddess of beauty, but not of love, not truly. No, it his her son who fights for love and heeds the prayers of the star-crossed.”

“Now, my love, I know you have a soft spot for the lad, but this is Venus we’re talking about.” Hades frowned in concern. “Your feud with her goes back eons.”

Emma rose to her feet, her hands clasped at her breast, hardly daring to believe that the goddess would be willing to help her. “I love him so much, but Venus is determined to keep him under an enchanted slumber until I’ve taken my last breath.”

“Unless you retrieve my flower?” Persephone asked.

Emma nodded. “Yet every moment I delay, Killian is one step closer to forgetting me.”

Persephone scowled and rose quickly from her throne, she motioned for Emma to follow her as she swept down the small steps of the dais. She went through an archway to the right of the thrones, and Emma hurried after her.

“Venus is so fickle,” Persephone muttered as she hurried along, “and her memory is laughably short. Yet that may be to your advantage.”

She smiled conspiratorially back at Emma before pushing open a heavy oak door at the corridor’s end. Beyond the doors was the first bit of color Emma had seen since entering the Underworld. It wasn’t much of a garden - only two things grew in the mostly stone courtyard - yet in the vast sea of black and grey, it was a veritable oasis. At the east end of the courtyard, a large tree grew, heavy with pomegranates. Yet it was the pathway to the west which Persephone hurried down.

“Venus has forgotten that I took care of her boy as much as I could, during the spring and summer months, of course. Juno was his other main babysitter, which explains his soft heart for women trapped in arranged or loveless marriages.”

Emma thought of the story Killian had told her of his first love, Milah, and she realized that it was Juno who had sent him to assist her. Ahead of her, Persephone came to a stop in front of a large rose bush. Only these roses sparkled with golden radiance, and even Emma could sense the magic radiating from them. Her mouth dropped open as she looked at the goddess of spring.

“I thought there was only one flower.”

Persephone’s lips widened into a smile. “Oh no, there have always been many on this rose bush, which I have tended with great care for many centuries. I couldn’t let Venus know that, however.”

Emma shook her head in wonder. “Then why not share?”

Persephone’s amber eyes narrowed, and Emma could practically feel the ground at her feet crackle with angry energy. “With that selfish goddess? She would do nothing but wreck havoc with these flowers, causing all sorts of mischief. Remember that golden apple “to the fairest”? Remember that impotent, silly Paris? Venus got us plunged right into the Trojan War. Can you imagine what she would do with a whole bush of flowers that can give eternal beauty?”

The blood drained from Emma’s face at Persephone’s impassioned speech, and her heart sank. “But Killian . . . “ her voice drifted off, for what argument did she have for a goddess?

“Although,” Persephone pondered, tapping her finger upon her lips, “Venus isn’t the smartest goddess. You could take her a flower, and let her believe it’s the only one.”

“Oh,” Emma exclaimed, “I’ll do anything you ask, if you’ll only help me!”

Persephone’s gaze turned serious, “Be careful what deities you make such promises too, my dear.”

Emma swallowed nervously, but then Persephone smiled softly once more.

“All I ask, however, is that you answer a question. Answer correctly, and I’ll give you the flower.”

Emma blinked, her hands grasping nervously at the satin of her nightgown. “I’m . . . I mean, I’ve never thought of myself as . . . . “ she sighed. “What if I get it wrong?”

Persephone reached for Emma’s hand and squeezed it. “I don’t think you will. The question is this: Why did I plant this rose bush here, in the Underworld? Why did I not plant it in the world of the living?”

Emma’s first thought was that she planted it here to protect it. After all, Killian had tried to flee here with Emma so they would be hidden from his mother’s eyes. But then she gazed upon the golden flowers, mesmerized by their incandescence. The longer she looked upon them, the more a feeling of peace washed over her. Their beauty wasn’t just striking; it was soothing. Suddenly, the answer struck her with startling clarity. She turned to Persephone with a small smile upon her face.

“You planted these flowers here for your husband. To comfort him, to remind him of you, in the long months you are forced to part.”

Persephone gave Emma a tiny nod of her head, a flash of pride in her eyes. “I had a feeling you would guess correctly.” With that, she snipped one of the flowers from the bright green plant, then surprised Emma when she picked a second one. The goddess placed both in a large leather pouch. “To keep them from being crushed,” she explained.

“But Venus thinks there’s only one flower.”

“The second is for you. I have a feeling you’ll need it. Keep it close until absolutely necessary.”

Emma bit nervously at her bottom lip as she accepted the pouch. She placed it carefully into her satchel, then regarded Persephone thoughtfully.

“How will I know when -”

“When it’s absolutely necessary?”

Emma simply nodded.

“You’ll just know.”

***********************************************************

Travel via deity was getting old. At least this time, when Perephone teleported her to the home of Venus, Emma actually landed on her feet. She was still dizzy with a pounding headache, but at least she wasn’t slamming into the ground or completely unconscious. Persephone evidently had a gentler touch.

This time, however, Emma wasn’t in Venus’s private chamber, but in a courtyard with abundant greenery and a fountain surrounded by a glittering pool. Though soothing, gentle splash of the water couldn’t mask the shouting coming from a nearby open doorway. Emma recognized one voice as Venus; the other was male. Emma tiptoed closer to the angry sounds.

“You’re willing to let our son sleep for possibly another eighty years just because of some mortal girl?”

“Eighty years might as well be a week when you’re immortal, and since when did you care about Killian anyway?”

Emma was close enough now to peer around the edge of the doorway. Killian had been moved from the dais to the round, luxurious bed that Emma had awoken in the last time she was here. Venus stood on the other side of the room, arguing with a broad, muscular man dressed like a gladiator in leather armor with a red cape flowing over his back. A feathered helmet and broadsword lay at his feet. Emma assumed this was Mars, Killian’s father, and she could certainly see the resemblance in the god’s thick dark hair and startling blue eyes. He had a full, curling beard, and his jaw was tight as he glared at Venus.

“I’ve cared about him far more than you have!” he thundered. “Otherwise he wouldn’t be in an enchanted sleep right now, would he?”

“No harm will come to him,” Venus shot back, “he’s surrounded by a protection spell.”

Mars arched a brow as thick and dark as his son’s, “Or is it to keep the mortal girl from awakening him?”

As intimidating as the god of war seemed, Emma figured this was just as good a time as any to make her presence known. At least one of the deities in the room was on her side. She took a deep breath to gather her courage, then rapped her knuckles on the door frame. Venus and Mars both spun towards the sound, and Emma stood as confidently as she could manage just beyond the threshold. When neither of them spoke, she broke the silence.

“I have completed my quest, and I have brought you what you seek.”

Venus’s eyes widened with delight while Mars rolled his towards the ceiling. Emma glanced nervously at her husband, who slept peacefully through it all. She stepped fully into the room while reaching into her satchel. Just as Persephone had advised, she removed only one flower, and handed it carefully to Venus. The golden rose still glowed and sparkled with ethereal beauty. The goddess took it reverently in her cupped hands, gasping in awe.

“Long have I desired this,” she whispered.

“As if you don’t have beauty enough of your own,” grumbled Mars.

“Keep your opinions to yourself,” Venus snapped at her former lover.

“I brought you what you requested,” Emma reminded her gently, “and I believe completing a quest to the Underworld is sufficient proof of my love for Killian. You must awaken him!”

“I must do nothing!” Venus snapped. “I am a goddess!”

Before Emma could even think of a reply to her callous declaration, Venus had crushed the beautiful flower between her palms. Emma gasped in shock as the broken petals grew dull against the porcelain skin of the goddess of beauty. Only the flower’s inner nectar still glowed in Venus’s palm. The goddess brought her cupped hands to her lips and sipped up the sparkling juice with relish. She then took a deep breath, an almost manic smile filling her face as she tipped her gaze to the ceiling. The veins in her neck glowed, then the shimmering golden hue filled her cheeks and blazed from her eyes. Her hair for a moment seemed to alight like the rays of the sun. Then Venus gave one more shuddering breath, and her countenance returned to normal. She couldn’t have possibly gotten any more beautiful than she already was, and now that the flower’s magic had faded, Emma saw no difference in the goddess before her.

Persephone had been right.

“Please, Venus,” Emma tried again with feigned humility, “free my husband from his slumber.”

“You keep calling him your husband,” Venus snapped, “but you are nothing more than a mortal. You can’t understand the ever-changing needs and desires of a god. We take lovers, not spouses.”

Emma was thankful for what she had seen between Hades and Persephone, for it guarded her against the lies of Venus.

“That may be true for you, but it’s not true of all the gods and goddesses. Killian has chosen me, and I choose him.”

“She brought you the damn flower,” Mars snapped, “wake the boy up.”

“Boy,” Venus sighed, “you never can see him as a man, can you?”

“And you can? All you ever do is treat him as your errand boy, never willing to cut those apron strings.”

“At least I’m involved in his life, which is more than I can say for you!”

Emma inched closer to the bed where Killian lay, frustrated at the time that was being wasted while the two divine beings fought. Had she slipped from Killian’s memory already? She knelt by the bed, reaching forward, but it was no use. Venus’s protection spell was still intact.

“Involved?” Mars was still arguing with Venus. “I can list half a dozen goddesses, fairies, and mermaids who were more of a mother to him than you. Maybe I’ll just wake him myself!”

“You can’t, the spell doesn’t work that way.”

“But I can do this,” Mars spat, lifting an arm and snapping his fingers.

The sound of it was loud, reverberating through the room, and the magical shield surrounding Killian and the bed upon which he lay, shivered and then dissolved. Emma surged forward with a cry, flinging her entire body across Killian’s chest and peppering his jaw with kisses.

She pressed a kiss to his still lips, murmuring against them, “I love you, come back to me, Killian.”

When she pulled back, he was just as deeply asleep as before. Behind her, Venus giggled with deceptive sweetness.

“It isn’t the kind of sleeping curse that your mother was under. That was cast by a mere mortal witch. Your kisses will do nothing to wake him, you foolish girl.”

“Then wake him!” Emma screamed. “You promised!”

Venus shrugged in an almost bored way. “I’m known for my fickleness, and, well . . . I just don’t feel like waking him up.”

Rage surged through Emma’s veins, and she clenched both fists as she stared at Venus. Her knuckles brushed against the satchel she had forgotten that still hung from her shoulder and across her chest. Suddenly, she remembered the second flower and Persephone’s words: Keep it close until absolutely necessary.

Gently, she reached into the satchel and pulled out the second flower. Venus gasped, her eyes widening.

“Where did you get that?”

Emma ignored her and turned to Killian. She cradled his head in her lap. She crushed Persephone’s flower and squeezed the juice between her fingers and past his slightly parted lips. His eyes blinked, then opened. Yet, as they gazed upon her, they looked confused.

“Where am I? Who are you?”

“You don’t know me?” She choked out a sob, clutching desperately at the front of his shirt. “Look at me, Killian! It’s me, Emma, your wife!”

His eyes widened. “I don’t have a wife, and I allow few to call me Killian.”

Behind her, Venus spoke with cold malice. “You’re too late, little mortal girl.”

Emma ignored the goddess as tears slipped down her cheek. “But you do have a wife, and I call you Killian because you asked me to. I love you, and you love me.”

“It’s true, son,” Mars said gently, stepping around Venus and coming closer to the bed.

Killian looked with shocked confusion at his father, and Emma wondered how rarely he saw Mars. Then his bewildered gaze fell back on her.

“Then why do I not remember you?”

“It was your mother.” Emma trembled, terrified that she was too late. Then a spark of hope lit within her. Her parents! Maybe her kiss couldn’t waken him, but that didn’t mean it was powerless. “I - I can make you remember me.”

She pressed her lips against his, and felt his shocked surprise in the rigidness of his mouth. Yet as her tongue brushed gently against the seam of his lips, he responded, opening for her and angling his head to deepen the kiss. She cupped his face, and he grasped the back of her head. Her lips curled into a smile as she broke the kiss, pressing her forehead to his. His eyes were closed, his breath ragged.

“Remember now?”

“Your kisses are intoxicating,” he rasped, but when he opened his eyes, there was still no recognition there. “I wish I could claim a woman as beautiful and passionate as you as my wife, but how can I when I still don’t know you?”

Emma sobbed, dropping her head to his chest and wrapping her arms tightly around him. The rigidness of his shoulders and the awkwardness as he patted her back only made her heart break more. She was too late.

Suddenly, the floor felt as if it were shifting, and Killian grasped her more tightly as they seemed to hurtle through the air. Head spinning, Emma pulled back from her husband to look around, completely disoriented. She blinked to clear her vision and was shocked at what she saw.

They were in another marbled room with tall Grecian columns, yet this one was ten times larger than the private chambers of Venus. Towering over their heads was not a domed roof, but billowing clouds. Surrounding them in this great hall were twelve giant, elaborate thrones. Sitting on each was a beautiful, regal figure. Emma scanned them in awe, startling when she saw Venus sitting on one to her left. She inched closer to Killian, and though he did not know her, he pulled her close to his side. They were in the throne room of the twelve Olympians.

“Princess Emma,” thundered a voice in the center of the room, “come near.”

On trembling legs, Emma obeyed. She assumed this was Jupiter, king of the Olympians, and she lowered herself to one knee. He didn’t look like she had imagined: glowing, with a long beard and a thunderbolt in his hand. Instead, he was clean shaven, muscular, with a smooth, young face, yet his expression was stern and she felt herself tremble.

“Emma, you have apparently angered Venus a great deal.”

“I did not mean to, your . . . majesty?”

Jupiter surprised her by chuckling. “Many beautiful maidens have aroused her jealousy, my dear. Yet none have managed to steal the heart of her son.”

“And steal it she has,” Mars spoke up, and Emma turned her head to see him seated on a throne to her left. “I saw the lengths my son went to in order to save her, and I have likewise seen what Emma has been willing to do to save Killian.”

“I never saw you as a romantic,” Venus snapped from her throne across the room.

“Maybe not,” Mars shot back, “but I do admire those willing to fight for what they want.”

Jupiter lifted a hand to stop the lovers’ spat, and turned his gaze back to Emma. “I understand you completed a quest to the Underworld to prove your love.”

“Yes,” Emma said, her emotional control slipping as a tear tracked down her cheek, “but I was too late. Killian no longer remembers me.”

“If I may, my lord,” Killian’s voice was suddenly there at her side, and she was surprised when he took her hand gently in his. “If this lass truly is my bride, then there’s nothing I could wish for more than to remember her.”

Emma blinked at him in surprise, and he in turn gave her a shy smile before scratching behind his ear. She had never seen him so unsure and confused. Or, more accurately, she had never heard him seem out of his element before. He certainly was now, and her heart grew with love even more.

Jupiter rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. “What say you, Juno?”

“No one is more loyal than our Cupid - Killian,” she said, looking at the young god fondly, “and he deserves happiness after so much loss and turmoil.”

“And what of this Princess, Minerva?” Jupiter asked, turning to the goddess on his other side. “What does your wisdom discern about her character?”

“Tenacious,” Minerva answered, “strong, smart, and willing to die for those she loves. If I’m not mistaken, she’s also a product of true love.”

Vesta spoke up from her place at the brazier that burned in the center of the room. “Oh yes, she is the daughter of the legendary Snow White and her prince.”

“I have a proposition,” Jupiter announced in a booming voice. “Never have I seen a mortal worthy of being wed to a god until now. These two should be wed in the truest sense.”

Venus surged forward on her throne, “But in order to do that, she would have to be -”

“A goddess?” Jupiter chuckled. “Yes, I am aware. I propose making Princess Emma a goddess, returning Killian’s memories, and allowing these two to live out their happy ending without interference. After all,” he turned a humorous gaze upon Venus, “that way she would cause you no more trouble with her beauty.”

Venus pouted and practically slouched on her throne, but she made no reply.

“All in favor?” Jupiter asked.

There was a chorus of “ayes” from every god and goddess, save for Venus. Jupiter clapped his hands, and a thundering wave of magic pulsed outward, washing over Emma and Killian. They both stumbled, their hands pulled from one another’s grasp. Emma shook her head, and turned towards her husband. A slow smile filled his face, and a sparkle lit his brilliant blue eyes.

“Emma!”

“You remember me?” she gasped, tears spilling from her eyes.

“Yes,” he laughed, “but love, look at you!”

Emma looked down to find herself clothed in a figure-hugging gown of purest white, embroidered with silver and gold thread. Gold bangles hung from both wrists, and her hair was piled upon her head in a riot of ringlets threaded through with baby’s breath and tiny pink rosebuds.

Yet it wasn’t her appearance she cared about as she crossed the room in two strides and flung herself into her husband’s arms. He caught her in a firm embrace, pressing her flush against him. Their lips met hungrily, and Emma poured into the kiss every desire she had felt while missing him. Killian couldn’t stop touching her, running one hand up her back and down her arms, his other making a mess of her perfectly styled goddess hair.

Their kiss was interrupted by the clapping and cheers of the twelve Olympians. They parted, a blush upon Emma’s cheeks, and turned to face Jupiter. Killian kept her tucked against his side, his arm holding her close.

“Killian, you are Cupid, the god of love, and here is your bride: Psyche, the goddess of the soul. For it is these two entwined - the heart and the soul - that creates the strongest magic of all: true love.”

***************************************************************

Years Later . . .

Emma and Killian sat in the garden of their estate on top of the misty hill, watching as their two children ran amidst the flowers that the fairies tended. The god of Belief and the goddess of Hope.

Often, Emma and Killian were called away on adventures. Some as simple as answering the desperate prayers of lovers, others as dangerous as battling the gods of Discord, Hate, and Apathy. One day, when they were old enough, their children would join them.

Yet their favorite days were these, with the warm sun beating down, happy and content. Their love now bathed in light; a light that had pushed away every shadow.

#cs ff #cssns #cssns 2019 #captain swan supernatural summer #enchanted forest au #myth #slow burn #cupid and psyche au