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kmomof4 · 3 months

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Orphan Girl- A New Fic by @kmomof4

I am sooooooooooo excited to finally share this fic with y'all!!! It has been a LONG time coming!!! It was inspired a year ago by a song our community chorale sang for our spring concert. The song Orphan Girl was written by Brendan Graham for the Annual Great Famine Commemoration in Sydney in 2012. The ceremony commemorates the relocation to Australia of over 4k female orphans after the famine took its toll. The song is told from the perspective of a 16yr old Irish famine orphan longing for a better life in Australia.

I am an orphan girl,

In Westport I was found,

The workhouse is my world,

Since the praties took us down,

What time in life is left to me,

If I don’t leave Westport town,

But the crown is sending girls to sea, for far Australia bound.

Sail, sail, sail me away,

Sail to Australia;

Sail, sail, sail me I pray,

Sail me away to Australia.

They say Australia’s fine,

They say Australia’s fair,

Australia’s on my mind

And the fields of praties there

I pray when this inspection’s done, that they’ll say me fit to sail,

For they don’t just send out anyone, oh Lord, don’t see me fail.

Sail, sail, sail me away,

Sail to Australia;

Sail, sail, sail me I pray,

Sail me away to Australia.

I am scarcely turned sixteen,

But I’m ready now to go

I’m decent and I’m clean,

Fit for any man to know.

And I will be some good man’s wife,

If there I’ll settle down-

And find myself a better life,

If I get to Sydney town.

Sail, sail, sail me away,

Sail to Australia;

Sail, sail, sail me I pray,

Sail me away to Australia.

Sail me away, sail me I pray

Sail me away to Australia.

I am an orphan girl, oh I am an orphan girl

And now thanks to whom thanks is due! Hollye helped me research and also betaed this monster, Joni helped me with plotting, and the discord ladies kept me sprinting until the dadgum thing was finished!! Thank you all!!!

Summary: Irish potato famine orphans Emma and Mary Margaret Swan hope and pray for a new life in Australia.

Rating: T

Words: 14K Make sure you have snacks and drinks readily available if you read this in one go... 😜

Tags: Period Piece, Irish Potato Famine, Australia Setting, Implied Sexual Assault/Rape, Minor Character Death

On ao3 if that's your preference.

New Tag List for the New Year! Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

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Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

September 19, 1849, Westport Workhouse, County Mayo, Ireland

I am an orphan girl, but my new life begins on the morrow.

Emma Swan sat on her straw pallet, the moon shining in the high window over her sleeping place in the female dormitory of the Westport workhouse. She could barely see as she wrote in the small notebook on her lap.

The day car departs at 4am for Dublin. From there, we will journey by ship to Plymouth, where awaits the Panama to transport us to Sydney. I cannot help but feel afraid, yet hopeful as well, for what the future holds for myself and Mary Margaret. I know the Lord holds my life, my future, and looking back at what He’s already brought us through, I know I can trust Him. He’s provided an education for myself and Mary Margaret at Achill colony, and preserved my life through the loss of Mam and Da to the great hunger, and during my time here in the workhouse, where so many die every day. I can only expect that He will preserve me through the journey and days, weeks, and months beyond as well.

As I look around myself, I feel more hope than anything. The workhouse has been my world for 4 years. How I’ve survived here that long is beyond me. This is my only escape and if the provisions we’ve been furnished with are any indication, we will be quite well off indeed. I’ve never owned a bonnet, or stockings, or a separate gown just for sleeping. My time of indenture will be 5 years. I’ll only be 24 by then. I’m going toward a better life. A life of hope and promise. Oh, Lord, be with me, I pray.

~*~*~

January 12, 1850, Immigration Depot, Sydney, Australia

Ruby Lucas opened the door to the room Emma and Mary Margaret, along with other girls from the Panama, would be staying in until they were assigned employment outside the depot in and around Sydney. They looked around wide eyed and slack jawed.

“Would you look at this?” Mary Margaret breathed. Emma joined her frank appreciation. She’d never seen a room this fine. The ceiling was high and the walls were lined with many multi paned windows, shades half drawn, but still letting in an abundance of light. The beds were lined up along the walls with a small dresser in between each one. And it was cool. After the heat of the Australian summer outside, it was a relief to be indoors.

“It’s not much, I know,” Ruby said. “But this is where you’ll sleep during your time here. We do hold to a daily schedule. Rise at six, meals at 6:30, 11:30 and 5:30. Bedtime is strictly observed at 8:30. And you’ll have daily chores to attend to as well. Most girls are here for a month or less, but some have been here for as long as three months. It just depends on what you’ll be employed doing.”

Emma looked at her sister, who smiled back at her. The schedule wasn’t anything different from what they’d experienced in the workhouse, but already, Emma could see the hope in Mary Margaret’s eyes and she responded in kind. Their education and the training they were to receive here at the Depot, made their prospects of employment high indeed. Emma hoped to work as a domestic, where she might fall in love with another servant in the household and have a family of her own someday.

“Thank you so much, Miss Lucas,” Mary Margaret said, turning to the young woman. “We are so grateful to be here, you have no idea.” Emma nodded her head in agreement.

“Oh, we don’t stand on ceremony around here,” she said, grinning widely and waving her hand around dismissively. “You can call me Ruby. And Granny will have your head if you call her anything but Granny. We’ve seen hundreds of girls come through here over the years and that’s what they all call her. Not that we see many of them once they leave, but when we do…” She trailed away, still with a broad smile on her face and Emma felt an immediate kinship with her. She had a feeling they were going to be great friends.

The following weeks passed quickly and Emma and Mary Margaret were both assigned to occupations within a month of their arrival. Mary Margaret was to be a teacher in a boarding school in Sydney for the children of landowners who lived outside the city proper and Emma was going to work in the home of shipping magnate and sheep farmer Killian Jones. He had a young daughter in need of a governess since her mother had passed away the previous autumn. Mary Margaret would be taking up her employment tomorrow and Emma would be traveling to Killian Jones’ home for a final interview. She understood that he wanted to meet her personally to determine her fitness for being his only daughter’s governess.

This was their last night in the depot, and they lay on their beds, facing each other in the darkness.

“I’m going to miss you, Mary Margaret,” Emma whispered.

“I’ll miss you, too.” Emma could hear Mary Margaret’s smile in her words. “But we’ll still see each other. I’ll have the weekends off and hopefully, you’ll have the Sabbath off as well. We’ll make it a priority to see each other then. And we can always write to each other.”

Emma pressed her lips together in a small smile. Mary Margaret’s hope was contagious and she felt her spirits lift at her sister’s words.

“Can you believe how far we’ve come?” Emma asked.

“No,” Mary Margaret said, her voice tinged with wonder. “God has truly blessed us. We would have died in that workhouse eventually. But here, we’re going to be productive members of society. Not dependent on it. We have a chance to make new lives for ourselves. Fall in love, get married, raise children.” She paused for a moment. “The headmaster is very handsome.” Her voice was even softer now and Emma had to strain to hear her.

“The headmaster? Of your school?” Emma asked.

“Mmhmmm,” Mary Margaret agreed. “David Nolan.”

Silence fell between them and Emma got lost in her own thoughts. She didn’t know what to expect from her assigned position, or even if she’d receive Killian Jones’ final approval, but the position of governess to the daughter of a wealthy landowner would be as favorable an outcome as she could have expected. She’d be well paid and have higher status within the household than she could have hoped for. Perhaps there she’d meet some good man who would love her and care for her. Someone she could love and care for and raise children with. She smiled in the darkness. Perhaps this David Nolan would be that person for her sister. Only time would tell. She closed her eyes and slipped into dreams.

~*~*~

Emma stepped down from the carriage that brought her from the Immigration Depot to the home of Killian Jones. The house was a single story ranch style home that was finer than anything Emma had ever seen. Granny was right behind her as a chaperone since this wasn’t yet a permanent position. Off to the side of the house, there was a paddock with horses and several men working. Emma inhaled sharply as one by one, the men approached the fence to stare at the newcomers. Emma straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin slightly as she stepped boldly toward the house. It wouldn’t do to show her nervousness at their blatant appraisal.

As she approached the house, a tall and very handsome man emerged from inside. He wore pressed khaki trousers and a blue chambray shirt with a black vest over it. His six-shooter sat on his hip and Emma gulped thinking about the reason why he’d need to have it on him inside his own home. He had dark brown hair whose gently tousled style seemed to match the rest of him- controlled but just untamed enough to be interesting. He had piercing blue eyes and dark scruff lined his jaw with just a hint of ginger in the morning sun. Emma felt her heart rate jump when she saw him.

The man was literally breathtaking.

“Emma Swan?” he asked, descending the steps toward them, his hand outstretched.

Emma stopped with Granny beside her and dropped a small curtsey before rising and meeting his gaze.

“Yes.”

“And you must be Ms. Lucas,” he said, shaking her hand. “Killian Jones.”

Granny shook his hand and then waved aside his greeting. “Everyone calls me Granny, young man. And I’ll expect you to do the same.”

The man laughed good naturedly. Emma took a deep breath, hoping it would bring her heart rate under control.

“Very well, Granny. Please, come in,” he said, gesturing behind him toward the house.

Emma struggled to keep her mouth closed as they entered behind him. Like the Depot, the ceilings were high and it was blessedly cool after the nearly two hour journey in the carriage. It was rustic in a way the Depot was not, the walls a little rougher and exposed beams up above. She tried not to stare as he led them into what could only be his office. He shut the heavy double doors behind them as she and Granny settled themselves in the leather chairs in front of the huge wooden desk that dominated the room. He sat down behind the desk and folded his hands on top of it, leaning forward just a bit.

“Welcome to Drogheda Station, Miss Swan,” he began. “My name is Killian Jones, and I am in need of a governess for my young daughter. She lost her mother closing in on a year ago now, and I just wanted to meet you myself before introducing you to my Alice and make sure you’d be a good fit with our family.” Emma nodded, but remained silent. His crystal blue eyes remained on hers as he spoke and she had to give herself an internal shake to keep herself from getting lost in them.

“So, tell me about yourself.” He looked down at a small stack of papers on his desk for a moment before looking back at her again. “I have quite a bit of information about you from your file provided to me from Granny, but I’d like to hear some of it in your own words.” He smiled and Emma instantly relaxed as she returned it.

“Ah,” Emma began, “the name… of the station? Drogheda? That’s Irish isn’t it?”

His smile lit up his face and Emma thought she would swoon at the pleasure she saw in his beautiful eyes.

“It is,” he affirmed. “My father was from Drogheda in County Louth on the east coast of Ireland. He immigrated here when he was a teenager. He died when I was small, but when I bought this land, I wanted to honor him and the roots he left behind by naming the station after his hometown.”

“I see.” She smiled back at him. “That’s a lovely tribute to your family. Thank you for sharing it with me. I’d never been to County Louth, but I had heard of it. I’m from County Mayo on the west coast.”

Killian smiled softly at her statement and nodded for her to continue. He watched the young woman in front of him intently as she continued speaking. Her manners were impeccable and her appearance was most pleasing. Her long golden hair was gathered at the nape of her neck in a ponytail against the summer heat, but it positively glowed in the sun shining through the windows of his office. There was a sadness in her green eyes that Killian found himself responding to. It was the look that he himself saw in the mirror every day. The look of an orphan. Given her circumstances, and where she came from, he wasn’t at all surprised.

What did surprise him, however, was how strongly he was responding to it. He wanted nothing more than to care for and shelter this lovely young lady. Her education and decorum were obvious in her comportment and Killian was sure she’d be a perfect fit for the position. He rarely had trouble discerning the character of a person upon their first meeting, and after just this brief introduction to Emma Swan, he had no compunction whatsoever in bringing her on as Alice’s governess.

“Thank you, Miss Swan,” he said when she finished telling him about herself. He turned his attention to Granny. “She’ll do fine. Thank you,” he continued with a short and decisive nod. “Now, do either of you have any questions for me?”

Emma glanced at Granny for a moment before turning back toward Mr. Jones.

“I had a couple of questions, actually, Sir.”

He waved aside her statement. “You don’t need to address me as Sir, Miss Swan. As a member of the household, Mr. Jones will do,” he said, his blue eyes meeting hers.

Emma was surprised, but nodded. “Well, that was the first one,” she said with a smile. “The second was concerning time off. I do hope this isn’t presumptuous. My sister remained in Sydney as a teacher at a boarding school and I’d like to be able to visit her occasionally.”

“Of course,” he agreed immediately. “We are pretty strict about observing the Sabbath here, so you’d be free to spend that day however you saw fit. Whether you spent it reading in your room, catching up on correspondence, or visiting your sister in town. You’d, of course, have access to a carriage to carry you to and from.”

“Thank you so much.” She looked at Granny again, who’d opened her mouth to speak.

“I have a question as well.”

Mr. Jones encouraged her to continue with a wave of his hand.

“I noticed the men in the paddock next to the house paying special attention when Emma climbed out of the carriage.” Granny was fierce and she wouldn’t tolerate any untoward behavior toward her charges. She fixed him with a glare that had Emma questioning if she’d actually remain behind when Granny left or not. “What guarantee do I have that Emma will be safe here?” “I run a tight ship here, Granny,” he said, meeting her stare with one of his own. “I can’t fault the men for noticing a pretty lass, but there is a line and they know not to cross it. Not to cross me. Emma will be safe here. You have my word.”

Granny was motionless for a moment before she nodded her head sharply and stood. Emma stood as well and turned toward her caretaker for the last month before embracing her fiercely.

“Thank you so much, Granny,” she whispered. “For everything.”

Granny held on to her upper arms as she drew away from her. “You make us proud, Emma. And I will expect a visit when you come to town to visit Mary Margaret.”

Emma smiled through the tears that were forming in the corners of her eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

Once they’d escorted Granny back out to the carriage that would carry her back to Sydney and watched it disappear over the horizon, Mr. Jones showed her back inside. Emma noticed the men in the paddock didn’t pay them any special notice this time, not while he was with her. As they passed through the house, Mr. Jones pointed out various rooms as he led her directly to her quarters. Her trunk had already been deposited inside, as he had instructed before they saw Granny off.

“Dinner is at seven. You’ll meet Alice then,” he informed her. “Until then, feel free to unpack and rest. I’ll have a lunch tray brought to you here in a few minutes so you won’t be disturbed.”

“Thank you. I’d appreciate a rest after the journey and I’ll look forward to meeting Alice this evening.” Emma smiled and nodded as he backed out of the room and shut the door.

~*~*~

Emma rushed into the dining room hours later to find Mr. Jones and a young girl already seated at the table. Emma quickly curtseyed and apologized for her tardiness before sitting down in a vacant chair opposite the girl.

“It’s your first evening in a new environment,” Mr. Jones said. “And I didn’t exactly take you on a full tour of the house so you’d know where to go. So no apology is necessary.” He gave her an appraising look as their meal was served. Emma’s mouth went dry, wondering if she’d done something wrong already.

“This is the same dress you wore this morning, is it not?” he asked.

Emma looked down as a blush heated her cheeks. “It is,” she said. “I only have one other.”

“I see,” he murmured. “We’ll have to make a trip into town sometime soon to furnish you a suitable wardrobe. You can’t be expected to wear the same two dresses day after day after day. People would think you weren’t being paid a suitable wage. I’ll need to clear my schedule a bit, so we can take a couple of days for the trip. I still have some of my wife’s garments you can make use of until then.”

“Oh, that’s really not necessary…”

“Nonsense,” he interrupted. He glanced at his daughter who watched the exchange with wide blue eyes, just like her father. “I am trying to raise Alice to be a lady, with the manners and comportment to match, and that is difficult enough out here in the bush without a good example for her to follow.” He raised his eyebrows at her with a significant look and Emma nodded her understanding before smiling across at the girl.

“Alice, this is your new governess, Miss Emma,” he introduced. “Emma, may I present to you, my daughter, Alice.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Alice,” she said.

“You as well, Miss Emma,” Alice replied, a wide smile lighting up her entire face.

Once the introductions were out of the way, Alice proved to be a delightful chatterbox. She was inquisitive, attentive, and very observant and it was clear to Emma that Mr. Jones loved his daughter dearly in the way he spoke to her and gently steered the dinner conversation.

As the meal came to an end, Mr. Jones rose from the table and spoke once again. “It’s time to ready yourself for bed, my Starfish.” He turned his attention to Emma. “I’ll see to her bedtime routine tonight, and give you this first evening to yourself. You can take over tomorrow evening.” Emma smiled and nodded her agreement. “Goodnight, Miss Emma.”

He held his elbow out for Alice to take and Emma’s heart melted.

“Goodnight, Mr. Jones. Goodnight, Alice.”

“Goodnight, Miss Emma,” Alice replied. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

As they walked out of the dining room, Emma smiled softly at the obvious affection between father and daughter. It was wonderful to see a father take such an interest in the care of his child. Once they were gone, she thought back to all the circumstances that had brought her to this place. This truly was the beginning of a new life for her, and she had the feeling it would be a good one.

~*~*~

The next morning, Mr. Jones took Emma on a full tour of the house. She met Robin Locksley, the overseer at the station, and the other household staff. They were all friendly and polite and Emma felt completely at ease among them. Once the tour was finished, Alice joined them as they entered the stable to collect a buggy for a ride around the station, for when the ladies might take excursions around the property.

“Cassidy,” he called, once they were inside.

A man with light brown hair emerged from one of the stalls wiping his hands on what was once a white cloth. He wasn’t as tall as Mr. Jones, and was a bit stockier, too. The look in his eye as he took her in reminded her of the way the hands had stared at her when she’d arrived the day before. She did the same thing now as she did then, raising her chin just a bit and squaring her shoulders. A quick glance at her employer told her he’d noticed his appraisal as well, and wasn’t pleased. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he silently clenched his teeth in apparent irritation.

“Good morning, Mr. Jones,” the man said affably. “What can I do for you?”

“Cassidy, this is Alice’s new governess, Miss Emma Swan,” he introduced. “Miss Emma, this the stablemaster, Mr. Neal Cassidy. Whenever you and Alice want to go for a ride, or need a carriage for going into town, he’ll take care of getting your horses ready.”

Emma curtseyed politely, even if she’d rather stay far away from the man in front of them.

“I’ll be accompanying Miss Emma and Alice today, Cassidy, but in the future, if they are traveling by buggy or carriage, I want a stable hand to accompany them.” He turned to Emma, sincerity shining in his eyes. “I know you’re able to drive a buggy, Miss Emma,” he said, “but in the case of an emergency, whether that’s dingos or a broken wheel or axle, I’d feel better knowing you had an armed man with you and my daughter.”

“Of course, Mr. Jones,” she agreed quickly. “To be honest, I’d feel the same way. There’s too much out here that I’m unexposed to and unfamiliar with. I’d feel much better having someone with us who could handle whatever the bush throws at us.”

Killian smiled, relieved she’d agreed with his edict so quickly. Turning back to Cassidy, he gave the man’s back a hard stare as he went about preparing the carriage for them. He hadn’t missed the blatant appreciation in his eyes when he saw Emma. Cassidy was relatively new to the ranch- he’d only been there since the new year- but he’d come very highly recommended. Just as he’d told Granny the day before, he couldn’t fault the man for noticing Emma, but he hadn’t been here long enough to know what was expected behavior around a lady. Killian had a feeling he was going to have to keep a close eye on the stablemaster and make it very clear to him that Emma was under his protection. Anything less than gentlemanly and respectful treatment of Emma and Alice would not be tolerated. And would be dealt with immediately and decisively. Killian’s honor would allow nothing less.

~*~*~

Emma had been at the station for two weeks when Killian was finally able to take a couple of days away from his work to accompany Emma and Alice into town for a new wardrobe for Emma. Alice was quite excited because she’d been promised new hair ribbons.

The bell over the door rang as Killian opened it before allowing the ladies to precede him inside. Emma’s eyes widened in surprise. The sunlight pouring through the windows at the front of the store drew attention to the soft fabrics and rich, vibrant colors. They nearly made Emma’s eyes dazzle. She’d never seen the like.

She couldn’t help reaching out and trailing her fingers along the edge of the dress in front of her as Killian approached the counter. The material was soft to the touch, and nearly exactly the same color as her eyes. A small sigh escaped her as she pictured herself wearing it. A soft gasp beside her brought her out of her reverie and focused her attention on Alice.

“You’d look so pretty in this, Miss Emma,” she breathed. “Don’t you think so, Papa?”

Emma was astonished to find Killian standing in front of them. She’d been so lost in her daydream, she hadn’t realized he’d returned to where she and Alice were looking around at the clothes on display.

He had a soft smile on his face as he looked at her and his hand joined hers as it continued to stroke the soft fabric.

“It would look lovely on you, Miss Emma.” His eyes never left hers as his hand gently cupped hers, so that the back of his fingers also ran along the material. Emma could hardly breathe.

A third voice joined them, startling Emma again. A tall, somewhat plump woman dressed in pink was looking her up and down.

“Ah, yes,” she said. “And I believe this day dress would need very little in the way of tailoring. It seems to have been made for you.” She pulled the dress down and held it up to her. “Yes,” she said, nodding decisively. “Go in the back and put it on. I’ll be there in a moment to make sure no alterations are needed.”

Emma, seeking his permission, looked at Killian who was scratching behind his ear. He nodded gently at her.

“Miss Flora and her sisters, Miss Fauna and Miss Meriweather,” he began, motioning at the other two women who’d also joined them, “are master haberdashers. I’m sure Miss Flora is correct in surmising your size and if the dress will fit.”

Emma nodded and took the dress from Miss Flora. She moved toward the back of the shop and took a deep breath trying to bring her heart rate back under control. The way he was looking at her as they both touched the material of the dress made heat rise to her cheeks and sent her heart into overdrive, beating a staccato rhythm that she could only hope wasn’t obvious to the people around her.

Once she got the dress on, she could plainly see Miss Flora truly was an expert. It fit her perfectly. Just then, Miss Flora came through the drapes that hung over the door to the front of the store and Emma could just see Alice poking her head through.

“May I come in and see, Miss Emma?” she asked, shyly.

Emma smiled widely. “If Miss Flora doesn’t mind,” she answered. “It is her shop after all.”

The woman smiled indulgently and turned toward the child. “Of course not, my dear! Please come in.” Alice came through the drapes as Flora mumbled under her breath about other items Emma would need to round out her wardrobe.

Alice’s eyes lit up at the day dress Emma wore. A soft smile touched Miss Flora’s lips as Alice came closer.

“You were absolutely right, Miss Alice,” she said. “This dress is perfect on our lovely Emma. It really brings out your eyes,” she said, turning her attention back to Emma again. Her eyes twinkled and Emma smiled softly at the complement.

After that, it was nothing but Miss Flora measuring Emma every which way she could be measured. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine all that went into making a lady’s wardrobe. Miss Fauna brought in swatch after swatch of fabric for Emma to choose from and also helped settle her sisters when an argument arose between them about which color- a soft sky blue, or a blushing pink- would better compliment Emma’s fair complexion.

By the end of it all, Emma was ready for a meal and a bed. She’d been on her feet for hours as the ladies brought out dress after dress- with all the accessories that went along with them- for her to try on both before and after slight alterations were made. The first day dress they’d found when they entered the shop was the only one of the bunch that needed nothing done to it and Emma planned to wear it when they traveled home the next day.

In addition to Emma’s full wardrobe, Killian also made arrangements for Alice’s measurements to be taken as well. She’d grown so much over the summer- much like plants, Miss Flora and Miss Fauna agreed- she was going to need new clothing to see her through the winter. But for now, Alice was simply thrilled with beautiful new ribbons for her hair that matched many of Emma’s new dresses and hair accessories.

It was much too late in the day to try and make it back to Drogheda Station before nightfall, besides the fact the sisters needed a bit more time to complete a few pieces of Emma’s wardrobe. They would be ready in the morning. So the trio made a surprise visit to Misthaven School where Mary Margaret taught.

The sisters embraced joyfully before Emma introduced Killian and Alice to Mary Margaret.

“Mary Margaret,” she began, “This is Mr. Jones and his daughter, Alice. Mr. Jones, my sister, Mary Margaret.”

Killian extended his hand for Mary Margaret to shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Mary Margaret. My daughter, Alice,” he said, motioning toward Alice, who dropped a slight curtsey.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Mary Margaret,” she said, smiling shyly.

“And you, Miss Alice,” she replied with a nod, her smile warm and welcoming.

They spent a pleasant evening in one another’s company. Once they were past the introductions, Alice blossomed under Mary Margaret’s attention, telling her new friend all about everything Emma was teaching her and how much she enjoyed it. Even with as tired as Emma was, when their time together was drawing to an end, she was loath to leave her sister’s presence, knowing it would be a long while before she’d be able to visit again.

The sisters embraced warmly and even Alice threw her arms around Mary Margaret’s middle in a surprise hug that was completely unexpected by all the adults.

“It was lovely to meet you, Miss Mary Margaret,” Alice said, releasing her. She turned unsure eyes upon her father, not quite certain how he’d react to her lack of decorum. But the smile on his face told her all was well. A relieved smile broke over her face as she turned back to her new friend and dropped a curtsey before returning quickly to her father’s side.

“You as well, Miss Alice,” Mary Margaret replied, her attention then turning to Mr. Jones. “Thank you so much for this wonderful surprise, Mr. Jones. It’s only been a couple of weeks since we’ve seen each other, but I’ve missed Emma so much.” She placed a hand over her heart, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes, matching her sister’s as she glanced at her. “I had no idea how much I was going to miss her.” Mary Margaret’s attention returned to Mr. Jones as she extended her hand. “I cannot thank you enough.”

“It was my pleasure, Miss Mary Margaret.” He took her hand and shook it before glancing at Emma and Alice. “And now we must take our leave before these two collapse. It has been a very long and tiring day for us all.”

“Of course,” Mary Margaret agreed, reaching for her sister one more time. “I’ll see you again soon and we can write in the meantime.”

Emma nodded, too choked up for speech. She pulled back and turned to where Killian stood with Alice, her arm looped through his. He smiled gently at her and Emma returned it, licking her lips that had suddenly become dry as she approached and looped her arm through his offered arm before they walked out toward their waiting carriage.

Mary Margaret smiled as she watched them go. Thankful that just as her life had turned around since leaving Ireland, it appeared her sister’s life had done the same.

~*~*~

“Goodnight, Alice,” Emma murmured, rising from the child’s bed in the hotel room Mr. Jones had booked them for the night.

“Goodnight, Miss Emma,” Alice replied as she snuggled down under the homespun quilt that covered her bed. Emma was too wound up to sleep just yet, so she crossed the room to where a small sofa sat near the door and sat down. She picked up her journal that lay on the small end table and began to write.

What a wonderful day it was. Our visit to F F & M Haberdashers was like a dream. The clothing on display was simply beautiful. The fabrics were so soft and the colors so bright and lovely. I thought we were abundantly blessed with the items we brought with us from Ireland, but the wardrobe Mr. Jones purchased for me today is so much more than I ever dreamed.

Emma tapped her quill against her chin as she thought about her next words. Her mouth opened slightly and she took a deep shaky breath as she told herself that these words were hers alone. No one else would ever be privy to them, and so she could write down exactly what her thoughts and feelings were as she tried on the different dresses and showed them to Alice and Mr. Jones. She licked her suddenly dry lips and continued writing.

I felt a bit like Cinderella in her beautiful ball gown, with Miss Flora, Miss Fauna, and Miss Meriweather as my fairy godmothers, and Mr. Jones standing in for the prince. Emma’s cheeks heated as she wrote those last words. She cut her eyes over to the bed where Alice was comfortably in the arms of sleep before she re-inked the quill and put it to paper again. Mr. Jones is obviously not a prince, but the way he looked at me with each new garment I tried on made my heart stop. His eyes are so clear and so blue. They’re beautiful and I could get lost in them. She shook her head, trying to banish the fanciful musings from her mind. He was an established landowner and she was only a governess. There’d never be anything between them. But the parallels between the story of Cinderella and my life are clear. A girl with nothing is suddenly given everything. Oh, how I wish… She stopped again, utterly unable to put those deep and hidden desires of her heart into words on the page.

Music reached her ears as she closed her journal and laid it back on the end table. It had been a very long day, but thinking back on all the joy the day had brought, Emma knew it would be some time before she’d be able to sleep. She rose from the sofa and glanced back at Alice, satisfied to see her still sound asleep and slipped out of the door. Mr. Jones was in the adjoining room in case Alice cried out and she’d only be gone a few minutes. Just long enough to find where the beautiful melody was coming from. She descended the stairs to the main lobby of the hotel, following the lovely music to a grand ballroom.

As Emma entered, she saw many couples dancing out in the middle of the floor, while several tables laden with all kinds of sumptuous looking delicacies lined the walls of the room. There appeared to be about a hundred people in the lavishly decorated room, soft candlelight illuminating the space, giving it an almost otherworldly quality. Then her eyes landed on the obviously newly married couple in the center of the dance floor.

They were a truly beautiful couple. Both with blonde hair, hers was piled on top of her head in an elaborate style, held together with strings of pearls woven throughout that echoed the ones sewn on her gorgeous white gown. His countenance appeared to be chiseled from marble, the lines of his face perfect in every way. Normally, Emma would think of marble as cold and unyielding, however, he was anything but as he gazed at his bride. They had eyes only for each other. Their matching smiles were full of joy and love and her heart melted inside her.

“They’re a beautiful couple aren’t they?” a voice whispered from behind her, startling her. She turned, a gasp on her lips and her hand pressed to her heart, to find Mr. Jones standing just behind her, a soft smile on his lips.

“I didn’t see you there, Mr. Jones,” she murmured before glancing back into the room. She smiled as her eyes found the bride and groom again. “Yes, yes they are. Do you know them?” The question flew out of her mouth before she really had a chance to think about it, but she couldn’t think of any other reason for him to be down here. Perhaps he’d been invited to the lavish affair and he’d come down to offer his congratulations since he hadn’t been able to attend the ceremony.

Mr. Jones chuckled in amusement. “No,” he informed her. “This is old Sydney money. I’d never be invited to something like this.” He scratched behind his ear just as he had that morning at the haberdashers and his cheeks turned red. Emma couldn’t help but smile at the nervous mannerism. “My money is much too new for me to be considered a part of the upper echelons of Sydney society. Which this clearly is,” he said, motioning back toward the room. “But I heard the music, and wanted to see where it was coming from.”

“I see.” She paused for a moment as they both continued to watch. “It was the same for me. Alice was asleep, and I only planned on being out of the room for just a few minutes, so I followed it down here.”

They were both silent for a few minutes, simply enjoying the soaring melody of the string quartet and harpsichord.

“This reminds me of my wedding day to Milah,” Mr. Jones said softly. She turned confused eyes on him as he continued. “Not the setting obviously, we were too poor for that, but the way they’re looking at each other. Like there’s no one else in the world. They could be in the outback, surrounded by sagebrush and dingos and they would still be looking at each other the way they are now.”

A sigh escaped her as she nodded her agreement. “After all the blessings I’ve enjoyed these last few months, it seems almost selfish to hope that I may find a love like that someday.”

“Blessings?” he echoed quietly. “Losing your family and traveling thousands of miles to the other side of the world to face an uncertain future… I’m not sure I’d call them blessings.”

“No disrespect, Mr. Jones,” she replied, “but if you’d seen the workhouse, you might think differently.”

“Point taken,” he said, a genuine smile on his lips.

“But, yes, the blessings,” she emphasized the word with a small smile on her lips, “of a good education before coming here, meeting Ruby and Granny at the Depot, and then coming to work in your home, meeting you and Alice… it’s the best outcome I could have hoped for.”

“There’s nothing wrong with hoping to find love one day, Miss Emma,” he said. “You’re young and beautiful.” His cheeks flushed and he scratched behind his ear again before his eyes settled on hers again. They were the deep blue of the sea, and the way he was looking at her made the butterflies in her stomach take flight and her breath catch. “You’re kind and very intelligent. And just seeing you with my daughter the last couple of weeks, I know that your heart is good. You will make a very blessed man a fine wife someday.”

Emma dropped her gaze from his and she could breathe again. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before she looked up at him again. The intensity she found there was the same as before and she could positively drown in them without a whimper of complaint.

“Th- thank you, Mr. Jones,” she stammered. “I should probably be getting back,” she said, motioning toward the stairs. He smiled and nodded, holding out his elbow to her. She took it and allowed him to escort her back to their adjoining rooms. Being this close to him was doing nothing to calm her racing heart and heated cheeks, but his words downstairs had touched her in such a way that she could hardly say anything in response. When they reached her door, she turned back to him. “Thank you again, Mr. Jones. For everything.” She hoped the gratefulness in her heart showed in her eyes and that he saw it and took her meaning. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Miss Emma.”

She smiled softly as she closed the door, unaware that he lingered there for a moment longer before returning to his own room.

~*~*~

The next few months passed happily. The bond between Emma and Alice only strengthened, and Emma loved her as if she was her own child. They settled quickly into a routine of studies during the morning hours with the afternoons being filled with lessons in manners and comportment, drawing and painting, dancing, and learning to play the pianoforte. Killian was a frequent observer of Alice’s afternoon lessons and Emma couldn’t help the little stutter her heart gave whenever he joined them.

He was the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on and even though he was nearly a decade her senior, she couldn’t help but wish that perhaps someday he might come to see her as more than just his daughter’s governess. A personal relationship between a landowner and a lowly governess was very much frowned upon, but she’d been so welcomed into the family by both Alice and Killian himself, she couldn’t stop her imagination running away with dreams of a happy beginning with Killian and Alice.

The only dark cloud in her new life was the stablemaster, Neal Cassidy. He’d never done or said anything overtly inappropriate, but she’d have to be completely blind to be unaware of his lustful gaze whenever she had need to come to the stable. His words and actions toward her were polite, but she could feel his eyes on her whenever he was near, whether that was inside the stable or not. And the shiver of trepidation she felt in his presence warned her to never be alone with him.

Alice’s 8th birthday was soon approaching and she found herself intimately involved in planning a special dinner and party for her young charge. Being so isolated from other children her own age living so far out of town, Alice didn’t have any friends to invite over, so Emma was determined to do what she could to make the day of her birth memorable.

On the Sabbath before Alice’s birthday, Emma traveled into town to visit Mary Margaret, Ruby, and Granny, and also to do some shopping for Alice. She’d made such wonderful progress in her art lessons, Emma thought it was high time for her to have her own set of charcoals and sketch pad. When she’d discussed the idea with Killian, he’d wholeheartedly agreed. He’d been unable to leave the Station to do the shopping himself, so she’d offered to do it for him during her visit. Since the sketch pad and charcoals would be given to Alice by her father, Emma decided to gift the girl a new bonnet and hair ribbons.

She left immediately after breakfast with Will Scarlet, her usual companion when she and Alice had need of the buggy. Thankfully, she had time to complete her shopping before meeting her sister at a local inn for a meal. It had been over two months since their last visit and they embraced warmly before settling at a table in front of the windows.

As they sat down, Emma’s eyes were drawn to a beautiful peridot ring that sat on the third finger of Mary Margaret’s left hand. One hand flew to her mouth in shock as she took her sister’s hand with the other in order to bring it closer.

“Is this what I think it is?” she breathed.

Mary Margaret giggled with delight. “It is!” she exclaimed. “David asked me to marry him! I didn’t want to tell you in a letter and so just waited until our visit!”

At their surprise visit two months ago, Mary Margaret had told her more about the handsome headmaster of her school she’d mentioned their last night in the Depot. He’d made his interest in her clear, but hadn’t yet begun courting her. In the subsequent weeks in between that visit and this one, Mary Margaret had written faithfully to her every week with new developments in their relationship. And now to see the beautiful ring on her sister’s finger, Emma was overjoyed to share in her happiness.

“When is the happy day?” Emma asked.

“August eighteenth,” Mary Margaret gushed. “Once worship is finished, the wedding will take place.” She grabbed both of Emma’s hands in excitement. “Tell me you’ll be able to come.”

“Of course, I will! I wouldn’t miss it for anything!” Emma exclaimed. “I’m sure Killian wouldn’t mind. In fact, I’m not sure he wouldn’t want to accompany me. Alice as well,” she said.

“We’d make them most welcome,” Mary Margaret assured her sister, speculative thoughts swirling through her mind.

She was so excited to share her joyous news, that she almost missed the longing and hopeful look on Emma’s face when she mentioned that Killian might want to join her for the wedding. When they met two months ago, Emma introduced him as Mr. Jones and in her letters, she always referred to him the same way, but that little slip of the tongue made Mary Margaret wonder if there was more between them than what her beloved younger sister had heretofore expressed. Perhaps some subtle questioning was in order.

“Killian, huh? When did you start calling him Killian?” Emma’s mouth fell open, clearly just realizing she’d called her employer by his first name instead of Mr. Jones. The blush spread across her cheeks and her eyes cut away making Mary Margaret smile indulgently before continuing. “It’s clear from your letters that you are happy there, and that you love Alice, but tell me more about Killian. We only had those couple of hours together when you were here last time. What is he like?”

Emma’s face took on a faraway look. One that told Mary Margaret definitively that her sister was in love. She’d been teased about her own similar look quite enough by her colleagues the past couple of months. Her heart melted at the knowledge and she could only hope Killian Jones shared her sister’s regard.

Emma began telling her about him in fits and starts that only made Mary Margaret’s certainty about her sister’s feelings for her employer all the more steadfast. Emma told her how kind he was, how honorable he was, how well she was treated in his household. The attributes she described reminded Mary Margaret very much of her David and she sent up a prayer that Emma would find love with Mr. Killian Jones. It may have been frowned upon in society, but Mary Margaret believed in love with her whole heart and that love was a part of all happiness. She didn’t want societal norms to get in the way of true love, and so she happily ignored those norms and hoped and prayed for that happiness for her sister, no matter what society thought.

The rest of their visit flew by, including tea with Granny and Ruby back at the Depot. It was the first time the sisters had been back to visit with them since leaving three months prior. Ruby had her own news to share as the General Store owner, Graham Humbert, had finally begun courting her and she was hopeful he’d ask for her hand in the next few weeks.

All too soon, the sisters had to take their leave and Emma had to journey back to Drogheda Station. Tears and hugs between the four were had in abundance as well as promises not to wait for three months before coming back for another visit. Once Emma was safely ensconced in the carriage that would carry her home, she waved out the window at her sister, Ruby, and Granny. When they were out of sight, she settled back and closed her eyes for the long journey.

It had been a wonderful day, but she was ready to return home to her charge and prepare for Alice’s birthday on Tuesday. Killian would be leaving Wednesday morning for an extended trip into Queensland, New Guinea, and New Zealand to look for new shipping markets for the wool and meat Drogheda Station provided. Robin would be standing in Killian’s stead with the day to day operations of the Station while he was gone. She hadn’t had much occasion to really interact with him over the months she’d been there, but he always treated her like a gentleman should and Emma felt no unease about him with Killian gone. She’d certainly miss Killian though. Which was why she wanted Alice’s birthday celebration to be so special. Both for the child and for her father.

~*~*~

Alice’s birthday was as perfect an autumn day as one could wish for, much like the actual day of her birth. It was Killian’s favorite time of year, both for celebrating Alice’s birth and the change of the seasons. The heat of the Australian summer was now fully behind them but the cold winter months were as yet a way off. Losing his wife, just over a year ago now, had obviously cast a pall over his daughter’s birthday last year, but Emma was determined that they’d make new, happier memories to replace the sad ones from their loss the year before. She wanted to make sure Alice was fully celebrated, as she deserved to be.

Emma had begun the day foregoing Alice’s regular studies for the special day, and had instead enlisted her help in the kitchen to assist with the preparations for tonight’s celebratory dinner. Alice was thrilled to help and Killian had been unceremoniously shooed out of the room, his ladies insisting he’d only be in the way.

His ladies.

Dangerous thoughts, those.

But Killian really couldn’t help them. Since Emma had joined his household three months prior, he thought of his beloved Milah- Alice’s mother- less and less. His heartache at losing her had finally begun to heal.

As he watched Emma with Alice during their lessons, his heart would be fit to explode with happiness at seeing the clear love and affinity between them. Alice positively blossomed under Emma’s gentle tutelage. She was so smart and eager to learn that she excelled in every subject she and Emma had undertaken. Just last week, Emma had come to him to discuss accelerating her studies to keep Alice’s insatiable appetite for learning appeased. He couldn’t have asked for a better governess for his precious daughter.

The more time he spent with them, and Emma in particular, the more he realized that the regard with which he held Emma was not entirely of the type a man like him should have for a woman like her. Her beauty never failed to make his breath stutter and his heart rate to increase dramatically. Her grace and mannerisms endeared her to him in a way he’d not experienced since he’d met Milah. Her love for his daughter, her quiet and gentle spirit, in spite of the circumstances she’d faced in her short life spoke to a strength of character that was astounding in one so young. His heart was in imminent danger of becoming hers forever, but societal norms wouldn’t look kindly upon a romantic relationship between them. He’d be more than willing to throw off the conventions of society- he didn’t have much contact with society in the first place- if he knew for sure what her feelings were toward him.

She’d never turned him away when he requested to watch them during their lessons, though he would have expected her to be a little nervous to have him as such a frequent observer. Thinking back on the last few months, he realized his requests had become progressively more frequent as time went on. Why, this month alone, he believed he’d observed them just about every other day. And as he did, his own regard for the lovely young woman in his employ only grew. And if he wasn’t mistaken, Emma seemed to be quite pleased when he did request to join them. Her smile seemed wider, the sparkle in her eyes just a bit more apparent. Perhaps she did hold some affection for him- and not of the familial type.

Perhaps tonight, after Alice’s birthday celebrations, he could have a private word with the lovely Emma Swan.

~*~*~

The birthday dinner was a complete success. Alice told him all about the different things she’d done to help prepare the meal. Of course, Cook and the other kitchen staff took care of the heavy lifting, so to speak, but Alice was thrilled when she’d been allowed- with Emma’s close supervision of course- to help chop the vegetables for the lamb stew they dined on, and then Emma had taught her how to make the Irish soda bread native to her homeland. The meal was completed by plum pudding that Alice helped prepare by doing all the mixing of ingredients before pouring it into the mold. The single candle in the middle of the pudding for Alice to blow out was as bright as her smile and Killian and Emma, as well as the other staff, all cheered when she successfully blew it out after shutting her eyes for a moment and making a wish.

Once the pudding was consumed, Killian and Emma gave Alice their birthday gifts. Alice was delighted with the new bonnet and hair ribbons and asked if they could have a picnic the next day so she’d have occasion to wear it. The sketch pad and charcoals were received with utter shock. Tears gathered in the corners of the child’s eyes and Emma worried for a moment that she wasn’t pleased with the gift. When Killian explained that it had been Emma’s idea given how well she was doing in her drawing lessons, Alice flung herself into first Emma’s and then her father’s arms sobbing out her joy and elation at having her very own sketch pad that she could use anytime she wanted, to draw anything she wanted.

As Emma and Alice were leaving the room to prepare for bed, Killian cleared his throat drawing both their attentions.

“Yes, Papa?” Alice asked.

Killian smiled softly at them. “Happy birthday, Starfish.”

Alice let go of Emma’s hand and ran to her father, throwing her arms around his waist. “Thank you, Papa. It was the best birthday ever.” Killian lifted his eyes to Emma’s and mouthed Thank you to her. She nodded and smiled before turning back towards the door of the room.

“Uh, Emma?”

Emma turned back toward Killian and Alice, who’d released her father and was walking back towards her.

“Yes, Mr. Jones?”

“Could you join me in my office after our evening prayers?”

“Of course.”

Emma couldn’t help but wonder why he wanted to see her. She’d have to curb her curiosity for the next hour as she and Alice went through her bedtime routine before Killian would join them to kiss his daughter goodnight and pray with them. Could he perhaps wish to tell her goodbye personally before he left for six weeks? She’d find out soon enough.

~*~*~

Emma preceded Killian into his office and he shut the doors behind them.

“Please, sit down, Emma,” he invited. She sat down in front of his desk as he moved behind it. He sat down and clasped his hands on top of it, just as he had the day they met.

“You may be wondering why I’ve asked you here,” he said. “I, ah…” he paused and scratched behind his ear. It was a terribly endearing gesture and Emma couldn’t help the smile that broke over her lips at his action.

“I do have to admit, I am curious,” she replied, still smiling softly.

“Well…” he cleared his throat and reached up to loosen his collar just a bit. “As you know, I’m leaving in the morning and will be gone for about six weeks.” His eyes finally met hers and Emma felt her breath leave her completely. His gaze was so intense. So clear. So blue. She could happily drown in them. She was shaken out of her disjointed musings when Killian rose and came around the desk to kneel next to her chair. Emma gasped as he took her hand in his own and met her gaze again.

“Emma, since you’ve come to Drogheda Station…” He looked down at their joined hands before beginning again. “Emma, your presence here…” he paused again, at a loss of how to continue, “...has been most welcome. You came to Drogheda Station and became a part of my family. Mine and Alice’s. You have fit in with us seamlessly and I have difficulty remembering a time when it was just me and Alice.”

Emma didn’t know what to say, but after a shaky exhale, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve become my family, too. You and Alice.”

He looked down at their clasped hands again, a light blush coloring his cheeks.

“Alice loves you dearly, and I…” His clear blue eyes met hers again and Emma’s chest tightened so much, the gasp she released was more of a sob. “I never thought I’d be able to let go of my Milah. Until I met you.” His voice was just above a whisper and Emma could see tears gathered in the corner of his eyes as he raised his hand to her face. He cupped her chin, and drew her face close to his. “Emma, may I have your permission to court you when I return from my journey?”

Emma’s breath left her on a sharp exhale. She couldn’t believe it. He wanted to court her. All her hopes and dreams were right in front of her and all she had to do was reach out and grasp them.

“Yes, Mr. Jones,” she whispered.

He looked down and chuckled. “Perhaps under the circumstances, you should call me Killian,” he said just before his lips captured her own. It was everything she’d ever dreamed of. It was fire and ice, sweetness and passion, strength and vulnerability all wrapped in a single sensuous package. She’d never been kissed before and had no idea how it could melt her insides and send her soaring at the same time.

This was affection and tenderness.

This was yearning and devotion.

This was hopes and dreams for the future.

This… was love.

Long moments later, Killian pulled back and Emma could breathe again. They remained close, the warm breath from his lips caressing hers just as his mouth had moments ago.

“I must insist that you retire to your room now, Emma,” he said. “I am a gentleman, but you are already testing my resolve.” Emma felt a thrill of feminine pride go through her at his words and she rose to her feet, Killian following.

He took her hands in his own again and raised them both to his lips, kissing the backs of her hands and her knuckles before turning them over and kissing her on the center of each palm.

She lifted one hand to his face and gently cradled his chin. “Goodnight. Stay safe. Come back to me, Killian.”

“I will come back to you, Emma,” he promised her. He turned his face into her hand and pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist, sending a sweet shiver up her spine. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s surviving. Goodnight, my love. Until we meet again.”

He released her hand and she walked to the doors of the room, turning back one last time to look at the man she loved. She left the room, determined to keep the gathered tears from falling until she was in the privacy of her room, where she would begin counting the days until she’d see him again.

~*~*~

Wednesday was another perfect autumn day. Just right for Emma and Alice to be able to enjoy a picnic by the creek at the edge of the pasture. They were up early enough to bid Killian farewell, but once his carriage was out of sight, they returned to the house and began Alice’s morning lessons.

Having Killian gone was proving to be quite a distraction to her young charge and Emma had to refocus Alice’s attention on her studies more than once throughout the morning hours. When she finally deemed Alice getting close enough to finishing her work that she could be left alone for a few moments, Emma rose.

“I’m going to go gather up our picnic lunch and head on out to the stable to inform them to get the horses ready so we can head straight out as soon as you’re done with your work, alright, Alice?”

Alice looked up and smiled, nodding her head enthusiastically. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Can I trust you to attend to your work without me here? You’re almost done.” Emma hated to ask the question, but with the level of distraction present this morning, she had to have an affirmative answer before she’d leave Alice alone.

“Yes, Miss Emma,” Alice promised. “I’ll be finished in just a few minutes.”

“Very well, come to the stable as soon as you’re done. Don’t forget your new bonnet,” Emma teased with a smile.

Alice patted the bonnet that sat on the side of her desk and smiled widely. “I won’t.”

Emma left Alice alone and went down to the kitchen to find the picnic lunch Cook had prepared for them. She found boiled eggs, roast mutton, and root vegetables inside the sturdy basket. There was also the left over soda bread from the party the night before.

She picked up the basket and walked out the back of the house toward the stable. She sat the basket on the ground outside the door and stepped inside.

It was quiet in the stable and Emma wondered if the stable hands were all at lunch. It was no matter. She had watched the hands prepare their horses many times over the last few months and was fairly confident she could saddle the horses herself.

She’d just finished saddling Alice’s pony when she turned to see the stablemaster standing in the door of the stall. Her breath caught, very much aware they were alone in the stable.

She dropped a small curtsey and then met his gaze. Fear skittered across her skin, raising gooseflesh in its wake.

“Mr. Cassidy?” she asked, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. One thing she’d learned out here in the bush the last three months, when a predator smelled fear, they attacked. “Did you need something?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, raising his eyebrows slightly, “I need something all right.” His voice was pitched low with an edge of something Emma couldn’t identify. It made her heart rate pick up even more than the initial fright his appearance had caused. He looked out into the main area of the stable. “Where’s Alice?”

Emma swallowed thickly. “She’s just outside waiting for me to saddle our horses for a picnic. She wanted to wear her new bonnet I gave her for her birthday yesterday.”

“Really? I didn’t see her outside when I came in.” He turned back toward her and took a step into the stall, his gaze now lewd, his smile lecherous. “I think you’re lying to me, Emma.”

His use of her name instead of Miss Swan sent Emma into a panic. Alice would be out here any moment, and if she could placate him somehow, perhaps she’d be able to escape with her innocence and dignity intact.

“Yes, you’re right, Mr. Cassidy,” she admitted on a shaky exhale, her stomach rolling with her fear and anxiety over the situation she found herself in. “Alice is inside finishing up her morning studies. She’ll be out for our picnic lunch any moment.”

“Oh, a moment is all I need,” he muttered, a sneer on his lips. He lunged for her, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her outside the stall, slamming the gate closed so the pony couldn’t escape. He spun her around and pressed her up against the side of the stall. Emma tasted blood and closed her eyes, lifting a prayer that Alice would be delayed just a few more minutes… for both their sakes.

~*~*~

Alice skipped out the back door of the house toward the stable to see Miss Emma running towards her. She couldn’t see her very well because of the distance, but Alice realized immediately something wasn’t right. Once she was close enough to really see, she saw Miss Emma was hurt. There was a dark bruise high on the side of her face and her lip was split and very swollen. The beautiful golden hair that Alice so admired was falling out of the braid they’d worked on so carefully this morning, and there was a rip in the bodice of her dress, exposing the shift and corset underneath. Her eyes were red and swollen, like she’d been crying.

“Miss Emma, what’s wrong?” Alice exclaimed. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” she gasped. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s fine. I tripped and fell inside the stable, catching my face on the side of Dinah’s stall. I just need to go inside and get this all cleaned up. We’ll have to do the picnic another day. I’m sorry, Alice.”

“Of course,” Alice agreed. She’d been looking forward to their picnic, but taking care of Miss Emma was more important. She took the basket from her and turned back toward the house.

“Don’t say anything to anyone about this, okay, Alice?” Miss Emma asked in a low murmur. If she hadn’t been standing so close to her, she probably wouldn’t have heard it.

Alice looked up into her beloved governess’ face. There was a look in her eyes she’d never seen before- it almost made Alice afraid- but she knew that Miss Emma loved her and would do anything to protect her. Just like her Papa. In the last year, Alice’s memory of her mother was beginning to fade. She could no longer remember her voice or the color of her eyes. But the feelings provoked in her by thoughts of her mother were now wrapped in the golden light of memory- hazy at the edges, but sharp in their recollection. In the absence of the woman who’d raised her, the love and loyalty and obedience given to her was now being transferred to Miss Emma. If Miss Emma didn’t want anyone to know what had happened in the stable, then Alice would obey her.

Alice nodded her head slowly, willing to do anything she asked. “Yes, ma’am.”

~*~*~

The six weeks were finally over and her Papa was coming home today! He’d never been away from home so long, and while, of course, she had Miss Emma caring for her, she’d missed her Papa desperately. Getting letters from him every week helped some, but she couldn’t wait to actually see him and hug him and hear the tales of all his travels and everything he’d done and seen. She was absolutely beside herself and Miss Emma finally gave up trying to keep her focused on her studies. Alice glanced at her and saw the paleness that had been so evident the last week or so was even more pronounced today.

“Miss Emma, why don’t you go lie down and rest?” she asked. “I’ll draw in my sketchbook and I promise that I’ll wake you as soon as Papa arrives home.”

Miss Emma put a hand on her stomach, closed her eyes, and sighed. “You know, my sweet Alice, I think I will do exactly that. As excited as I am that your Papa is coming home today…” Her statement was interrupted by a huge yawn, “I am exhausted. You’re sure you’ll be ok on your own here for a little while?”

Alice grinned, eager to set Miss Emma’s mind at ease. “I’m sure. You go rest.”

She nodded and moved into the next room, leaving the door open so she could wake quickly if she was needed. Alice could see her lie down on her bed from where she sat and in moments, Miss Emma was snoring softly.

Alice got out her sketchbook and charcoals and began to sketch as she waited for her Papa to arrive.

Suddenly, there was a loud commotion outside. It may have felt like it was only a few minutes, but it must have been at least an hour given how much of the picture she was drawing was completed. Miss Emma always laughed at how caught up she’d get in her sketching that she wasn’t aware of any time passing at all, and that had certainly happened again today. The picture of Miss Emma asleep on her bed was nearly finished, but the sound of a carriage outside was difficult to miss. Alice looked out the window and flew from the room, her promise to wake Emma completely forgotten.

“Papa, Papa!” she cried, bursting from the door and flinging herself into his arms. He laughed and spun her around, hugging her tightly.

Killian pulled back and looked into his daughter’s face. Oh, how he had missed her. It had been a productive and successful trip, but he couldn’t tolerate being away from the ones he loved that long ever again.

“You know, Starfish,” he said, “I do believe you’ve grown a foot since I left!”

Alice smirked, recognizing his teasing tone, a pretty blush coloring her cheeks.

“Oh, Papa,” she scolded lightly. “ You know I haven’t.”

“Where’s Miss Emma?” he asked, searching the front of the house for her, eager to see the woman he loved again.

“She’s lying down and resting, Papa,” Alice informed him.

“Resting?” he asked, confused. “At this time of day?” He looked at his daughter and caught her furrowed brow. “What’s the matter, Starfish? Is there something wrong?”

He moved toward the front of the house and Alice clung to his neck as he carried her inside. He walked straight to his room and deposited her on the bed. He pulled off his boots and sat next to her.

“Did something happen, Starfish? Why the furrowed brow?” He smoothed his thumb over her forehead until the lines disappeared and she looked up at him with love and happiness at his return shining in her eyes.

“I missed you so much, Papa,” she said, hugging him tightly again.

Killian returned her embrace. “I missed you too, my love. Now tell me what’s troubling you.”

Alice pressed her lips into a thin line, almost as if she was hesitant to say what was on her mind.

“Alice,” he urged, using her name instead of her nickname to impress on her the seriousness of his words, “You can tell me anything.”

Her blue eyes met his and Killian found himself a bit nervous to hear what she had to say. He hadn’t said anything to her about courting Emma before he’d left. Could Emma have said something to her? And perhaps Alice wasn’t as happy as he’d thought she’d be?

“There’s something wrong with Miss Emma,” she said. It was the last thing he’d expected to come out of her mouth and Killian had to double check to make sure he’d heard her correctly.

“Something wrong? With Miss Emma?” Alice nodded. “What is it?”

“She hasn’t been feeling well.”

“How has she not been feeling well?” Alice shrugged, and Killian pressed. “What exactly makes you say she hasn’t been feeling well?”

“She’s tired all the time,” she explained. “She hasn’t been waking up with me in the morning, I’ve had to come in and wake her to help me with my hair. She’s been sick, too. She tries to hide it, but I know that she’s been sick in the morning after breakfast. And sometimes after lunch and dinner, too.”

“How long has this been going on, Starfish?”

Alice shrugged again. “Since not long after you left.”

“And you say she’s asleep now?”

“Mmhmm,” she nodded.

“Ok, as soon as she wakes up- don’t wake her up yourself, understand, Starfish?- tell her I’d like to see her in my office.” Killian gathered his daughter in his arms and hugged her tightly. “Let me get unpacked, and you go down and ask what Cook has planned for dinner.”

“Yes, Papa.” Alice skipped out of the room and Killian frowned.

After stating his intentions before leaving, he was sure she held him in the same regard as he held her. He had a lot of trouble believing that she would betray him. But, if what he suspected was going on with Emma was correct, he was going to need some answers. Answers that only Emma had.

~*~*~

It was another hour before a knock sounded on his office door.

“Enter,” he called.

The door opened and Alice bounded in followed by Emma. It was a very good thing that Alice was here to distract him slightly, because if she hadn’t been, his jaw would have dropped in shock and dismay.

Emma was sick.

There was no doubt.

She looked to have lost a stone since he’d been gone. The dress she wore hung on her overly thin frame. Her skin was pale and her hair hung limply around her face. Even though she’d just awoken, it was clear that she was utterly exhausted. She looked like a stiff winter breeze would blow her over.

“Thank you, Alice,” he said, giving her a big hug and kiss. “Would you go ask Cook to prepare some ginger tea and some sandwiches for myself and Miss Emma?”

“Yes, Papa.”

She skipped out of the doors of his office leaving Killian alone with the woman he loved.

“Emma,” he breathed, moving toward her, his hand outstretched.

“Killian.” Her smile trembled, her tear filled gaze holding all the love and longing he hoped to see. She took his hand and he pulled her close, enveloping her in his arms. He held her tightly, turning his nose into her hair, inhaling her scent, imprinting her on his soul. This was his Emma and whatever had happened, he was sure she hadn’t betrayed him.

He gathered her in his arms and sat in the chair in front of his desk, still holding her closely on his lap.

“You’re with child.” It was a statement, not a question. With the evidence in her body before him and Alice’s observations, Killian had no doubt.

Emma buried her face in his neck, unable to meet his piercing gaze. He may have said he loved her and wanted to court her, but with the reality of him knowing that she carried another man’s child, there was no way under heaven that he would still want her. That he would still allow her to remain as governess to his daughter.

“Emma, look at me.” She felt his finger under her chin, exerting subtle pressure, urging her to lift her gaze to his. She allowed him to lift her chin, but once he stopped, she couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes. To tell him the truth. “Emma, please.”

It was the pleading in his voice that finally broke her resolve. She opened her tear filled eyes to behold the same in his.

“Tell me what happened.”

Taking a deep breath, the entire thing spilled out of her. She’d kept it bottled up, buried, never again to see the light of day. But with the growing certainty that she was with child, she knew it was only a matter of time before Killian found out and her life as she knew it would be over. Killian would surely send her away and she’d lose her family again. But as she told him everything, he continued to hold her close, stroking her hair tenderly even as his eyes cycled through sorrow, fury, dismay and finally settled on controlled fortitude.

He looked her in the eyes, love and devotion swirling in their depths, and cupped her face in his hands. “Emma, I can’t tell you how sorry I am that this happened. I never should have left. If I’d been here, this never would have happened.”

“Killian, no,” she replied. “You can’t blame yourself. This trip was necessary for your and Alice’s future.” She paused for a moment, her unsure gaze meeting his. Did he still love her? “For our future,” she stuttered, haltingly.

He smiled gently. “Yes, Emma. For our future. I love you and you have nothing to fear. Either from the future or him. I will stand by you. I will marry you, and claim the child as my own. If you’ll have me.”

At his words, Emma could hold back her tears no longer.

“I love you, Killian,” she sobbed. “And yes, I will be yours forever. I want nothing more than to be your wife, and a mother to Alice.”

“You can stay here with me while I confront him, or you can wait outside,” he told her. “I will not force you to remain in the room with him, unless you wish it.”

Emma shook her head. “I’ve stayed as far away from him as I could since it happened. And I’d just as soon as never lay eyes on him again.”

“Very well, then. Wait in the parlor while I send for him. I’ll come to you when he’s gone.”

Emma nodded, rose, and left the room.

~*~*~

Killian sat behind his desk when there was a knock on the doors.

“Enter.”

The door opened and Neal Cassidy walked in.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?”

Killian didn’t look up, but continued to peruse the correspondence in front of him. After waiting for several long moments, he finally met Cassidy’s gaze with a hard stare. He didn’t invite him to sit. He wanted the man to be on his feet for what was about to happen.

“I understand from Miss Emma…” He paused for a moment to see if the mention of Emma’s name provoked any reaction from the man in front of him. He wasn’t surprised to see nothing but a slight widening of his eyes and a muscle tic in his jaw. “That you violated her in a most disgusting and vile manner. What have you to say for these charges?”

Neal snorted in derision. “You’re going to believe some Irish whore…”

Killian rose from behind his desk and slammed both his fists down on the surface. The move was so sudden, Neal choked on his words.

“Don’t you ever say such things about my intended.” His words were low and deadly and Neal Cassidy got just a glimpse of how much trouble he was truly in. “Yes, I believe her. Because she is the epitome of honesty and integrity. The authorities have already been notified. They’ll be here within the hour. If you are not off my property by then, they’ve been given leave to shoot to kill. I’d hurry, if I were you.”

“I’ll hurry all right.”

Neal reached for the gun at his hip, but Killian was ready for him. He got his shot off first, hitting Cassidy in the gut. He fell to the floor, but still got his own shot off, just grazing Killian’s left bicep. A hiss of pain left his lips as Killian walked around his desk to see the man writhing in agony before him, his pistol on the ground. He knew the wound he’d inflicted was deadly, but that it could be hours, perhaps even days before it would eventually kill him. And as pleased as that would have made him- for Cassidy to have just a taste of the suffering he’d inflicted on Emma, and thus on him- he knew that as long as that gun was within reach, he was still a threat. Killian leveled his own pistol in front of him and shot Cassidy right in the middle of the forehead. A thin trickle of blood leaked from the hole, down the bridge of his nose, his sightless eyes fixed on the ceiling.

The door to his study crashed open as Emma ran in, followed by Robin.

“What the hell happened?” he cried.

Emma flung herself into his arms and buried her face in his neck.

“I’m alright, Love. You’re safe now.”

Emma sobbed into Killian’s neck barely conscious of him lifting her in his arms and going around to his desk chair where he sat down, holding her close and murmuring words of comfort in her ear. She only knew that when she’d heard two gunshots in quick succession, she’d feared the worst. She’d run from the parlor and had heard the third gunshot just as she’d burst through the doors. She was hardly aware of Robin wrapping the body in a white sheet and dragging him out as Killian continued to hold and comfort her.

She felt something wet under her hand. She drew back, her mouth dropping in a horrified Oh when she saw the tear in Killian’s shirt from the bullet and the blood soaking into the fabric.

“You’re shot!” she cried.

“Tis merely a scratch, darling.” He smiled disarmingly at her. “I got him first.”

“Oh, thank God,” she breathed, quickly unbuttoning his shirt so she could get a better look at the wound. Once she got the shirt open and off him, she looked at the injury with a critical eye. “It doesn’t need stitches, but it does need to be cleaned and bandaged.”

She turned to Robin who’d returned from disposing of the trash and asked for a few items that would help her accomplish that. As soon as he left, she turned back to Killian.

“I wish it hadn’t come to that, Emma,” he said, sorrow and apology obvious in his eyes and tone. “But there’s nothing I won’t do to keep you safe. To keep the ones I love safe.”

“I know, Killian,” she breathed. She dropped her forehead down to his and closed her eyes. “And I’m so thankful to be counted among those you love.”

Her lips found his in a gentle caress designed to show him everything in her heart that she couldn’t put into words.

As he held her close and deepened the kiss, Emma’s heart soared. This was her Killian. The man she loved. She was his forever and an orphan girl no longer.

The End ~*~*~

Thank you so much for reading and sharing! I'd love to know what you think!

#orphan girl #krystal writes #art by krystal #inspired by the song

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snowbellewells · 1 year

Text

Birthday Fic Completed: “We Were Always Meant to Find You”

{One Shot; Post s6 Happy Beginning; CS Future Family Fluff}

Also available on AO3, if that is your preference

by: @snowbellewells

She was already waiting at the counter, arms crossed expectantly, a knowing look on her face, when the little bell hanging over the door of her diner jangled insistently to announce the first arrivals. After that, it stayed open for some minutes as more and more people poured in like a flood. Possibly the whole town, Granny thought wryly, shaking her head in affectionate wonder as the deluge continued and the murmur of joined, overlapping conversations rose to a dull roar.

She turned and shot a warning look through the front line window at her fry cook, who was taking in the crowd with wide-eyed trepidation. The widow Lucas mimed gathering a deep breath and getting ready for action, trying to calm him. Thank goodness she’d thought far enough ahead to call in some extra wait staff and cooks in anticipation of this gathering. She mentally patted herself on the back for that bit of foresight, ruefully acknowledging that she had no one who could waitress as quickly and efficiently as Ruby once did, even as her granddaughter had teased, flirted, and made it look like a lark all at the same time.

The older woman shook herself from that rather melancholy train of thought before it could travel much further. It was hardly the time for lollygagging and dwelling on missed family members who were realms away and happy there. Granny picked up her order pad and gave a last glance around behind the counter to be certain they were as ready as possible for the onslaught.

As the bell over the entry rang out once more, she smiled fondly to see Snow, Charming, and their little boy arriving with smiles on their faces. They wore the mantle of de facto leadership easily, even in this modern world where their standing as Princess and her Prince went mostly unacknowledged. Despite their casual manner and unpretentious bearing, many of the townsfolk gathered in Storybrooke’s favored eatery turned and looked to them expectantly. Snow White, rightful heir to the throne of Misthaven and beloved only child of King Leopold and Queen Ava, had never demanded honor or praise from those who would have been her subjects in another life. She simply inspired their loyalty with her sweetness, her goodness, and all that she was.

Said monarch was beaming from ear-to-ear as her small family paused just inside the diner, quite possibly as brightly as the widow Lucas had ever observed. A pink, happy flush colored Snow’s usually fair cheeks prettily, and her eyes sparkled impishly, even glinting with what Granny astutely observed were unshed tears of joy. She was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet as she nudged Charming to speak to their gathered friends and neighbors.

The shepherd prince turned deputy sheriff raised his voice to be heard above the low murmurs and shufflings of such a crowd. “Thank you all for coming!” he greeted with a genuine, winning grin. “It means the world to Snow and I that you’ve

come here to support our family on such a special occasion. That you’ve extended your kindness and acceptance to our daughter and her family as well, is something we will never forget. Emma may not always know how to express it, but I do know that she is grateful. Now, they were right behind us when we left the courthouse, so if we mean to surprise them, we’d better get ready! They should be here any minute!”

That announcement sent the crowd into a flurry of activity, rearranging themselves to seem casual and unconcerned; not at all as if they were breathlessly awaiting the Savior and her small family - now officially one member larger - to sing and welcome and celebrate them to the point of embarrassment. Food and drink orders, seating preferences, and side conversations were forgotten for the moment as all the gathered townsfolk waited with held breath while trying to seem as if they weren’t.

From her vantage point by the old and battered but sturdy cash register, the Widow Lucas could already envision the very way Emma Swan’s eyes would drop to her boots. She would be friendly and gracious, but a bit awkwardly brusque too. After all this time in Storybrooke, she still wasn’t fond of too much attention. The Captain, of course, as Granny fondly referred to him, would try to follow his lovely wife’s lead, but the tips of his rather notably pointed ears would be red, secretly pleased with the notice and care shown to his newest little love. Henry’s eyes would widen in joy and excitement, Granny knew, though he would have expected no less of them all, his believer’s heart optimistically anticipating the best of others and then often inspiring it. Young Hope would be holding court from the moment she realized everyone was there for her family. If ever there were a wee lass born to be royalty, Granny mused, it was that one. With every bit of her mother - and grandmother’s - beauty and bravery, and her father’s audacity and puckish charm, Hope Jones was irresistible to everyone she encountered.

Sure enough, soon through the diner’s large front windows, Emma and Killian could be seen leading Henry, Hope, and their newly adopted sister down the sidewalk along Main Street. The last few whispers and scuffles dropped off as family and friends watched, hoping to make the Savior’s family joyously welcome with their little surprise, in a manner they would never forget.

Once again, the bell over the diner’s entrance sounded its tinny chime, and Killian Jones held it open gallantly as his brood tromped through. Emma led the way, holding onto Hope’s chubby toddler hand, as the little sprite wouldn’t hesitate to dart off at a run towards anyone she knew even slightly or anything that caught her interest. Henry brought up the rear, with the sister who had joined their number before him. Dutiful eldest child that he was, Henry was clearly trying to make sure she didn’t feel lost or overwhelmed, but Granny noticed that the young man still cut his eyes toward his stepdad for direction as the little girl stopped on the threshold as though frozen - silent and uncertain.

To his credit, whatever he might be feeling, Captain Jones didn’t allow himself to appear fazed by the child’s hesitance, merely nodding in assurance to Henry and turning to see to his daughter himself.

However, before he could say or do anything, the door barely closed behind him, there was a loud shout of “Congratulations! Surprise!” accompanied by hoots and hollers enough to rattle the roof of the old building. The gathered townsfolk - who had seemed preoccupied and settled in their own affairs until that moment - were all now staring at the Swan-Jones family and closing in as they jostled forward to meet the new addition and make her welcome.

Apparently much too close for comfort, Granny saw with anxious concern. The pretty little wisp of a blonde with striking hazel eyes let out a cry of distress and turned on instinct to flee back out the door, only to run smack into Killian’s side. Upon finding her escape route blocked, she attempted to hide herself by burying her face against his denim clad hip.

Killian’s brow furrowed then with concern as his hands rested on the child’s back, rubbing soothing circles as he murmured, “There now, Sweetheart. No need to fear. These folks merely want to say hello to you.” Looking up, he offered David, Snow, and others of the gathered assembly an awkward shrug of the shoulders and half-smile that begged their understanding and patience. To their credit, many had already begun to move back and disperse to their own tables upon seeing the little girl’s overwhelmed reaction. Archie- bless his sensitive soul- and Belle began to head off the rest, ushering them elsewhere for the time being.

Seeing that Emma, Henry, and Hope had grabbed a booth against the wall near the back hallway and were waiting for them, Killian carefully guided his daughter along with him, even as she remained glued to his leg and barely shuffled along with him as he half-led and half-carried her. Gently, once they reached their table, Killian peeled her from his side to urge her onto the bench seat next to Henry, assuring her that he would be right behind her.

Granny herself moved from behind the counter and came over to take their orders. At this point, she was admittedly curious, too - wanting to meet the newest little princess and personally let her know she was very much welcomed to their odd but special little town. Standing at the end of the table, she attempted to lighten her normally rather intimidating expression, offering what she hoped was a warm and genuine ‘grandmotherly’ smile, speaking in a softer voice than usual as she waited with order pad and pencil in hand. “Hello there, Jones family,” she greeted with a twinkle in her eyes behind her half-spectacles, as she looked into each of their faces in turn. “What would you folks like to eat?”

To no one’s surprise, Emma Swan ordered a grilled cheese and onion rings.

“Ring rings!” Hope echoed in a decisive chirp, though they all knew she didn't like onions, and was instead ordering her own special mozzarella sticks Granny had found, which were circular and allowed the toddler to feel like she was having just what her mom did.

Granny nodded, jotting the order down, though she could have repeated back Emma and Hope’s orders by heart even before they were placed.

Henry considered for a moment before ordering chicken strips and French fries with apple pie a la mode for dessert. He smiled encouragingly at the sister beside him and emphasized how delicious the meal was before handing the menu back to Granny Lucas politely.

When no further orders were given to her for several long moments, Granny shifted on her feet, not wanting to rush them, but not wanting to linger awkwardly either.

“I’ll have the lemon tilapia with baked potato, Lady Lucas,” Killian broke the lengthy pause with a wink in her direction, when it became clear he was going to have to move things along. “And this lovely lass here is our daughter, Helen. I don’t believe you’ve yet had the pleasure of making her acquaintance.”

The youngster dutifully looked up and met Granny’s eye, but she still didn’t utter a word.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dear,” Granny tried as gently as possible, giving Helen - who appeared to be about seven or eight, of slight build and with a fair, heart-shaped face - a comforting smile. “You’re very much welcome here at the Diner. You can call me Granny - everyone else does. I hope you’ll come to love it here in Storybrooke.”

Emma offered her a grateful expression before glancing across the table at her second daughter and asking, “So, Helen, what do you want to try? Does anything look good to you?”

Wide hazel eyes stared back at the Savior with a frightened, deer-in-the-headlights expression. She shook her head vigorously, curls flying, while still not making a sound.

Tilting her head, Emma studied the child for a moment as Granny waited quietly, trying as much as possible to remain unobtrusive and not add to the little girl’s discomfort. After a moment, some sort of understanding dawned on their fearless Sheriff’s face. If pressed, Granny would venture to call it empathetic, knowing, and more than a bit lost and sad. A subtle glance passed over the table between husband and wife before Emma nodded decisively and turned back to Granny with fierce resolve and a film of moisture shimmering in her eyes that neither of them acknowledged.

“How about a breaded chicken patty sandwich, a cheeseburger, an order of macaroni and cheese, some tater tots, a brownie, and one of your monster peanut butter cookies?”

The Widow Lucas didn’t comment, completely understanding what the younger woman was doing - ordering a variety of kid-friendly options so she could learn what Helen liked. Hope chortled merrily, exclaiming loudly in her childlike innocence, “That’s a lot of food, Mama! Is Helen extra-hungry?”

Across the table, poor Helen Jones’ worried eyes popped even wider, as if panicked that she might somehow be blamed for the excess. Almost as though she had forgotten the silence she was keeping until that moment, she blurted out quickly, “No! I’m not! I didn’t ask for that - I promise I didn’t!”

Granny’s own heart broke for the child’s needless fear and the deprivation it was suddenly clear she had suffered. She wasn’t sure how the Joneses would calm Helen and appease Hope in the middle of a crowded restaurant full of nosey and overly involved acquaintances. All the same, it wasn’t her business beyond bringing that sweet little girl the best food she had ever tasted, and she hustled off to do just that.

Once their little family was alone again, tears welled even more certainly in Emma’s eyes. They had known, of course, a fair bit of what Helen had been through, and had already witnessed some of her issues and insecurities in the visits they’d had with her throughout the adoption process. But just now, she ached to make all of that disappear. She could only hope that in time they would manage to show her she didn’t need to be afraid of them. That she was home now.

Hope was still clamoring for her attention, and Helen was now once again pressed into Killian’s side, as if hoping to somehow disappear behind his larger frame where no one else could see her. Catching Killian’s eye, silent decisions were again made between pirate and princess. Killian nodded his understanding, and Emma stood with their youngest to take her to the ladies room for a moment where they could talk, and left her two boys with Helen, trusting they’d find the right way to soothe her.

When it was just the three of them at the table, Killian slowly pulled back from his daughter enough to look her in the eye. He held her attention steadily and promised her that she was not in any trouble, she did nothing wrong, and no one was upset with her. “Take a deep breath, Helen, love,” he coaxed. “That’s it, just like that. Try another one, Lass. There you are.”

The entire time, his metal appendage lightly ran over her shoulders, rubbing a soothing pattern he hoped would further ease her anxiety. Like Emma, he had known - her overly slight appearance and the way she would barely ask for even the smallest items - that Helen had faced not only deprivations, but harsh punishments as well. But he’d still been taken aback at the panic that overtook his daughter right before their eyes. Even as he shot Henry a concerned look across the space between them over Helen’s head, he could feel the rage he had not known in some time - in truth, not since his stint as a Dark One - rise inside him at any who would have mistreated and wounded such a precious, innocent child. Though for years now the vengeful captain had been put away, and he had tried with all his might to curb the violent tendencies he’d once allowed free rein, for a flicker of a moment, Killian yearned to turn the sharp point of his hook on the perpetrators of Helen’s current trauma.

Fighting down the intensity of such a reaction, he swallowed back more words he feared might come out harshly in his anger and scare the child further. He would not speak until he could wrangle his emotions back under control.

In the meantime, Henry leaned over tentatively, putting himself in his new sibling’s eyeline and speaking up, hoping maybe he could help. Surely, a story could cheer her up? He didn’t like to dwell on it too often, but when he had been just a bit older than Helen was now, he’d felt so alone. Like no one believed him, no one was on his side, and half afraid he was as crazy as his own adoptive mother had wanted him to think. When the storybook had come to him, the comfort those tales had given him was impossible to measure. In those stories, he had found family, inspiration, courage, and comfort, and it led him down the path to the life he lived now, one happier than he could have pictured back then, when he had caught a bus to Boston in search of his birth mother - the Savior who could rescue them all.

“Hey, hey, listen,” he urged, encouraged to see that Helen turned those bright, curious eyes of hers on him willingly, obviously wanting to hear what he would say in spite of herself. “You don’t have to worry, alright? Mom and Dad aren’t looking to punish you or blame you for something. They want you to have what you need to be happy… all of us do. You fit right into this family. All of us at one time or another have been lonely and hurt and left out - well, maybe not Hope, but that’s because she was with us from the start. The rest of us had to find each other, just like you’ve found us.”

Helen didn’t speak, but she blinked up at her new big brother. Her frantic breathing slowed to normal and her flurried heartbeat calmed down as he spoke. It wasn’t hard to see that she was hanging on Henry’s every word, whether or not she offered an audible response.

Henry’s tentative smile grew easily, gaining confidence that she was interested, and his whole face seemed to glow with eager excitement as he carried on. “You know what helped me a lot when I was your age, and I felt all by myself and scared?” he asked her.

Right on cue, Helen shook her head ‘no’, but gazed up at him raptly, clearly waiting to hear Henry’s suggestion. Though she hardly knew yet that it was entirely possible in this new hometown of hers, the way she looked at him with such guileless faith made it seem as if she were expecting his magical solution for her problem.

Killian remained quiet, watching the sweet scene unfold without interruption. The maelstrom of emotion which had been churning inside him at the sight of his daughter’s fear subsided, as his chest swelled with pride instead. Watching Emma’s son, the young man he loved as his very own, showing such care and ingenuity in this moment, weaving a tale that would rival any sailor’s yarn to beguile his shy, unsure sibling, nearly melted him in a way he would be hard-pressed to disguise. He left his arm wrapped lightly over Helen’s shoulder and allowed her to lean back against him, cuddled into his side, but otherwise he held his breath, attempting to remain unobtrusive as he saw her beginning to settle comfortably.

“Did you know there’s a story about a famous Helen, who was a queen?” Henry continued, widening his eyes for extra emphasis.

So much had her upset eased, that Helen’s eyes lit up with intrigue at her brother’s words, and she shook her in head amazement, breathing out a soft, “Really?”

“Absolutely,” Henry affirmed, a pleased grin on his face at the way her reserve was lessening and her interest caught.

“Aye, little lass, there surely was,” Killian added in, his voice still hoarse with the rasp of leftover emotion, but calm once more. “Even when me crew and I sailed the many seas of various realms, we heard of her. It was said she was so beautiful that her face launched a thousand ships when she was stolen from her kingdom by the man who loved her. A war was waged for her return.”

Henry quirked an eyebrow at his stepdad, purposefully baiting the pirate with a teasing look he could have learned from no one else. “So now you want to tell it?” he goaded playfully, to which Killian could only huff and shake his head, good natured smile on his own face as Henry retook control of the myth of foolish Prince Paris of Sparta, blinded to the calamity he brought down upon his country, so besotted was he with the beautiful Helen of Troy.

Glancing up from the little tableau beside him, Killian’s eyes landed upon his wife, standing in the open passageway into the hall and facilities of the diner. She had Hope in her arms, their youngest laying her head on Emma’s shoulder mildly, as she watched her son and other daughter bonding happily, despite the rocky start. Though the jade of Emma’s eyes was rather glassy with unshed tears, a radiant smile bloomed on her face, one which Killian returned easily. Thank goodness he had her, and she, him. Neither of them must figure out how to parent the three young lives they had been blessed with on their own. Each of them had an anchor in the other when faced with turbulent waters.

It was just as Henry finished his tale, to Helen’s enthralled approval, that Granny bustled back over to their table, tray laden with their dinner order. “Here we are, dinner for the Jones family, as ordered!” she announced with a bit of a flourish.

Hope began to squirm once more in Emma’s hold the moment she saw Granny’s approach, restful pause at an end. Emma snapped from her reverie watching the rest of their little family to place Hope on her own two feet, and the toddler was off, already clambering into her papa’s lap by the time Granny and Emma both reached the booth.

“Thank you,” Emma told the diner’s proprietress sincerely, a grateful smile on her face as she met the older woman’s eye. Granny smiled and nodded her understanding. Between the two of them, it took just seconds to unload the plates of food onto the table, Killian having enough to occupy hand and hook with his arms full of a wriggling four-year-old and trying to make sure that Helen, finally seeming comfortable and at ease beside him, wasn’t struck by an exuberantly flailing hand or flying elbow.

“It’s my pleasure,” Granny assured, watching the youngsters reach for their various dishes almost wistfully for a moment. “I hope you all enjoy, and let me know if you need anything else.”

No one spoke for a few minutes, as each person around the table began to add condiments to their food where they saw fit and prepared to dig in. Helen, as was becoming usual, didn’t ask for anything or make any comment, but she too seemed to accept that the multiple options Emma had ordered were for her, and she had pulled the chicken patty sandwich and macaroni closer with an eager look in spite of her earlier hesitance.

The quiet munching and hums of enjoyment were broken by Hope a few minutes later. She leaned over from where she was devouring her “rings” to pat Helen on the shoulder and get her attention. The tyke’s eyes were as open and enchanting as her papa’s, and she gazed at her newly gained big sister with a sweet, ingratiating smile. When Helen met her waiting expression, Hope babbled simply, “Sorry I made you feel bad, Sissy. You can have whatever you want. I wuv you.”

Then, without hesitation, she swung forward, nearly dumping herself from Killian’s lap until he quickly righted his hold, and hugged Helen tightly, catching them all by surprise with her exuberant affection.

Yet, to the rest of the family’s happy surprise, Helen didn’t startle or pull away. Instead she gently accepted Hope’s hug as she did the apology and even tentatively returned her sister’s embrace. When Helen brought her hand up to pat Hope’s arm, as if to let her know everything was fine, Hope dipped her head to plant a smacking kiss - playful and slightly crumb-y - to the back of Helen’s hand, just as Emma sometimes did for her when waking Hope up in the morning, or patching a skinned knee, or some similarly light hearted moment. That did make Helen laugh outright. And most of the lingering anxiousness in their booth slipped away when the rest of them joined in.

After that, they returned to their meal with ease, sensing that though it would surely take time and patience, Helen would fit in, and even more importantly, she wanted to. She would just have to learn how to relax enough to be herself and trust that who she was, was exactly who they wanted to know. Even when it was hard or stressful or took time - she was worth it, worth knowing.

Clearly taking a liking to her chicken sandwich and mac-n-cheese, Helen had eaten all of both and was savoring every delicate bite of the peanut butter cookie nearly the size of her face. She looked delighted by the taste of the sugary treat, but also as if she was still thinking about something as she chewed thoughtfully. Eventually, glancing between Killian and Henry, she asked her question as they all were finishing up their dessert. “So, all those people… all those ships… came after Helen of Troy? Just her? They all wanted her with them that much?”

Henry nodded, acknowledging that she was correct.

For a moment, Helen paused again, considering, “No one’s ever wanted me that much,” she finally admitted, in a tone so low they had to strain to hear her. “I was in those homes a long time, and no one came after me.”

Killian clearly wanted to answer, to dissolve the pain behind those whispered words, but he swallowed wordlessly, the sentiment lodged behind the empathetic lump in his throat, while Emma jumped in, voice wavering, but fervent and strong. “Not until now. But we will always come after you. You’re one of us… and you were always meant to be.”

Reaching across the table, Emma took Helen’s smaller hand in one of hers and her husband’s in the other, squeezing tightly and holding Helen’s eyes with a watery smile, refusing to blink until her newest daughter couldn’t help but believe.

With a wide grin, Henry spoke up next, offering Helen what was practically their motto, his absolute faith impossible to miss. “One thing you should definitely know, this family always finds each other.”

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @stahlop @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @jennjenn615 @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @cosette141 @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @sotangledupinit @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @thislassishooked @scientificapricot @gingerchangeling @winterbaby89 @xsajx @xarandomdreamx @anmylica @justanother-unluckysoul

#cs one shot ff #cs family fluff #cs future family #cs adoption #birthday fic #we were always meant to find you #happy birthday @whimsicallyenchantedrose #even if it is a week late

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