#as you can see Killian is a knight
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CHAPTER ONE ; 1/3
TRANSCRIPT:
[sounds of swords clashing and rowdy cheering]
geordie: Your highness, apologies for the intrusion, but her majesty has asked me to remind you of the time.
killian: [panting] The time? And what exactly is the time?
g: Half past noon.
k: So she wished to inform me of my tardiness. Thank you, Geordie. I will be with you shortly.
---
k: Am I the only late one?
g: I am afraid so. Even the princess arrived promptly.
k: Drat. Dara will never let me live it down. The one time I lose track of the hour…
g: No matter, your highness. Soon you will be Knight Captain and have plenty of excuses for tardiness.
k: I sincerely hope not. I am perfectly satisfied with my rank.
---
luca: There you are, at last.
k: Apologies, apologies. What did I miss?
#progeny#ts4 story#i changed the training grounds a bit#realized it made more sense for the walkways to have brick short walls lol#SO!! first chapter!!!! here we go#as you can see Killian is a knight#geordie is a minor side character but he's like the closest thing to a bff that killian has#he mainly patrols the palace which is why he was sent by the empress to get her son lol#where are they walking on the way to the palace? tHE UNDERGROUND TUNNEL SYSTEM#one of the coolest things i made up for the volais capital is that they have underground tunnels that connect all the important places#also i haven't named the capital yet. just referenced as the capital lol#it's how they're so defensible even when they have a river running through the city#it's sort of their secret weapon#but also good for traveling when you are low on time#Killian was late to a family meeting lol nothing crucial but his mama puts a lot of importance on them#call it her version of a sunday dinner#aaaand... oh yeah! we see through killian's words that he is PERFECTLY SATISFIED with his rank#by the end of the chapter you will see where he stands on things#okay! enough rambling! SORRY#nooo I just noticed one of the balconies isn’t lined up with the window 🤧 oh well I guess
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Misc quotes about the Jedi Order.
"The one exception to Coruscant's predominant art deco style is the Jedi Temple. Lucas wanted the place where the Jedi to have a sacredness to it, as well as a daunting dose of grandeur. As a result, the Jedi complex is a bit Gothic, a bit pyramidal, and a but Chinese Forbidden City.
- Jonathan Bresman, The Art of Star Wars: Episode I, 1999
"In contrast to the corporate coldness of the senate building, the Jedi Council architecture was designed to suggest a place of worship, a place that was both religious and monumental. For reference, Chiang took pictures of monuments from various cultures, then exaggerated their shapes and heights in his drawings."
- Laurent Bouzereau & Jody Duncan, The Making of Star Wars: Episode I, 1999
NOTE:
Just pointing out that the Temple isn't meant to represent an "ivory tower indicative of the Jedi's arrogance", but a place of worship which contrasts with the building housing the arrogant corporate elite.
The symbol of good in the galaxy, the sacred Jedi Temple is a hybrid of Gothic, art deco, and ancient Chinese and Egyptian architecture. [...] Inspired by the TransAmerica pyramid and the rest of the San Francisco skyline, Chiang and Natividad designed the temple complex to be distinctly different than the rest of Coruscant."
- Jonathan Bresman, The Art of Star Wars: Episode I, 1999
"At one point during the Episode I design, we were thinking of the Jedi as lone samurai. They were going to be like a police force. But they evolved into the peacekeeping force they are in [The Phantom Menace]."
- Iain McCaig, The Art of Star Wars: Episode II, 2002
"George wanted the Jedi Knights to represent the variety of sentient life in the Star Wars universe. We decided to use and upgrade many of the character designs for the Podrace arena crowds from Episode I."
- Doug Chiang, The Art of Star Wars: Episode II, 2002
"The emperor's outpost on the [Second] Death Star is a tall spire. It's reminiscent of- when you see the first three trilogies- of the Jedi temple. In this case, the- there's one spire on the Death Star and the Jedi temple's got five spires."
- George Lucas, Star Wars: Episode VI, Commentary Track, Special Edition DVD, 2004
NOTE:
I love this one, personally: a symbolism that indicates the Jedi find strength in unity, while the Sith are all about putting themselves above everybody else.
"[The Jedi] should be a much more diverse group. You should have aliens in there, more exotic-looking people. [When casting background for Attack of the Clones], you gotta mix it up more."
- George Lucas, Creating the Worlds of Star Wars - 365 Days, 2005
NOTE:
This is in reference to something that had been done for the casting of Jedi extras in The Phantom Menace: they simply grabbed ILM staff and put Jedi robes on them.
George explained that they need to vary the looks, which is partially why he decided to add Aayla Secura to the next film, played by - you guessed it - an ILM production assistant named Amy Allen!
"An additional redress of the Jedi Council chamber was the original Mace Windu office. But this set was abandoned when we moved the scene to a more monk-like meditation room. George didn't like the idea of Mace sitting at a big executive desk, because the Jedi seemed too terrestrial-based, too much part of a bureaucracy."
- John Knoll, Creating the Worlds of Star Wars - 365 Days, 2005
NOTE:
Look at that, George went out of his way and discarded a whole set-up simply because he wanted to make it clear that Jedi are not mired in bureaucracy, they're spiritual as all hell.
"One of the things that Dave [Filoni] has been sort of adamant about is that the Jedi are not super-heroes, they don’t have these, like, limitless powers, there’s certain things they can do and certain things they can’t."
- Killian Plunkett, TCW: “Hostage Crisis” Featurette, 2009
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How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam - Chapter 11: Knight Fall
Story summary: After the Evil Queen kidnaps and curses her family and destroys her kingdom, Princess Emma is on the run. She boards a merchant vessel with her godmother Red, and they intend to travel to Arendelle to seek magical assistance. But when Emma discovers the dark truths aboard Captain Silver's ship, she must put a stop to his cruelty and rescue the Jones brothers from their enslavement. Emma has to find her own allies and face her fears in order to save her parents, her brother Leo, and her kingdom.
Read it on AO3 from the beginning here.
You can find chapter 11 below the cut or on AO3.
Killian could’ve counted on one hand how many times he’d heard the princess laugh—but that was before her brother had returned.
She’d been as radiant as their campfire when she’d dragged the boy back with them, shoving the bowl into the prince’s hands with a force that rivaled Liam’s when he suspected Killian had gone without food longer than he should’ve.
The affection his Captain shared with her brother had brought him closer to his own, reminding him that he could not take this night for granted, nor any night that followed.
But as happy as his future queen had been, he watched as she retreated into her mind, lines of sorrow deepening the shadows the fire threw across her face, and Killian ached for her. As he had every right to do—as he had no right to do.
It wasn’t duty that motivated him to move her belongings to where she stood sentry as dawn came upon them, and it wasn’t duty that had him shifting his own bedroll into her line of sight.
It should have been duty. But try as he might, he could not tear her from where she’d come to rest against his very heart. Nor did he truly want to.
He slept little that morning, but so did she.
They both rose from their bedrolls, busying themselves with the chores that were divided and rotated amongst the inhabitants of Robin Hood’s camp, and as she watched the sun mark its journey through the sky, awaiting dusk, so did Killian.
— —
Emma wasn’t pacing. Unless “pacing” could be defined as anxiously walking back and forth between the trees where her brother had left before dawn that morning. Then she was most definitely pacing.
Red leaned against one of the trees, her eyes flitting from one pinprick of light above them to the next. Perhaps this was her version of pacing.
Roland and Belle approached them, planting themselves on either side of Emma and preventing her from continuing her route. Belle’s face was covered with worry that she attempted to hide, and though Roland did not appear concerned, he did fidget much more than Emma had come to expect from him.
“You do this every night?”
Belle frowned. “Well, normally we—”
“Every night,” Roland interrupted, giving his companion a pointed look.
Belle’s lips pressed into a line—annoyance or displeasure or disappointment, Emma wasn’t sure. But they were certainly hiding something, and if Leo hadn’t promised to tell her everything, she would’ve been interrogating them until they confessed.
“He’s close,” Red announced, and now her eyes went to the trees.
Emma's body screamed at her to run, to go as fast as she could until Leo was safe with her again. She kept her feet fixed where they were, because she couldn’t be that person anymore. She couldn’t take off so recklessly, shout for him in the darkness. She knew too much now. She’d been far too acquainted with danger and consequences to act rashly.
She did, however, allow herself to go when he came into sight, and when she hugged him at last, her heart settled back into place. “First we’re getting food, but if you think I’m not gonna make you eat and talk at the same time, you’re wrong.”
He laughed, lighter than air. She let him eat in peace, finding it much easier to be patient when he was safe and she could see that for herself.
It helped that he scarfed it down so quickly she was afraid he’d choke if she made him talk, too.
And then they found a quiet place to sit alone, just the two of them (and one faithful knight stationed close by, of course).
— —
Killian could not hear what the prince relayed to his sister, that had been his intention on settling this distance from them, but it could not have been good.
He did not look at them at first, his eyes searching their surroundings for any signs of movement or danger, but he abandoned his duty when he heard her sob. His heart split itself in two, and when he risked a glance at them, he felt it splinter at the sight of her clutching her brother so fiercely, so desperately, so helplessly.
He whirled around at the sound of leaves and twigs crunching, his hand falling from the hilt of his sword when he recognized Belle.
Her sad eyes took in the heartbreaking sight, and she was not surprised. “It’s a truly terrible curse,” Belle said. “It was meant for Emma, you know.”
That, of course, got Killian’s attention.
She nodded. “And Leo, he’s so good. Just like his sister, I imagine. He’s said over and over again how he’s so glad it’s him instead. It’s what got him through the worst of the pain, I think.”
“I’m certain she’s wishing the opposite right now,” Killian said.
Belle hummed in agreement. “Of course she is. She loves him too much to see him in so much pain. I hope she never faces it,” she added, haunted and knowing.
“I’m not certain she’ll allow him to go after this,” he murmured, watching Leo attempt to soothe her.
“She must,” Belle replied. “She can be there for him before, she can wait for him after, but she cannot be close when the curse takes over. It isn’t safe. Leo would…he would—he couldn’t bear it if something happened to her. If he did something to her.”
Killian stilled, ice trickling down his spine. “The curse,” he said, “what is it?”
Belle hesitated, studying his face. “Do you know the dragon in the sky? The constellation?”
“Aye.”
“When the sky lightens enough to banish the dragon, it instead takes Leo. Every morning, he transforms. It’s…it’s painful. Agonizing. When night falls, the dragon appears above, and Leo is free. Again, he transforms, with the same agony. And every day, he loses more of himself to the dragon. The Evil Queen has given him a year before the curse will take over, and then he will no longer be…Leo.” A tear fell onto her cheek, it glistened in the moonlight.
Killian turned back to face his prince and princess, to witness their anguish, their torment gifted to them by that monster.
“I’ll make sure she’s safe,” he vowed. It was all he could do for them.
“Leo will be relieved to hear it.”
— —
They all gathered at the fire, but tonight it was not in celebration.
“We must look ahead, plan our next step against the Evil Queen,” Robin said, his voice fit to command an army. “Emma, you have my men—and Mulan—behind you. We now look to you, as our future queen.”
Emma straightened, though she made no move to release her brother’s hand. “We save my father, your king. With Queen Elsa’s magic on our side, we certainly stand a chance.”
“We’ll need more time before we can move,” Anna said. “Kristoff isn’t ready yet. Can we have a few more days?”
“Of course,” Emma replied. “We must strategize. We only have one shot at this—if the Evil Queen discovers that we know where my father is, she’ll certainly move him.”
“Emma,” Elsa began delicately, “I will of course use my magic to help you, but…”
“But?” Leo repeated.
Elsa glanced at the crowd, her lips pressing together. “I’d understand if you sought to keep it hidden—I did the same for so many years—but if there is ever a time to share with your allies, I believe that time has come.”
“Share what?”
“Your magic,” Elsa said.
Silence fell over the camp, only the crackling of the fire disturbing the stillness.
Emma’s brow furrowed. “What magic?”
Elsa paused, working to piece together her thoughts. “It’s as I first suspected: you don’t know.”
“Of course,” Tink muttered, excitement pulling her lips into a grin. “Of course! One of these days, I’m going to learn to trust my intuition again.”
“I don’t understand,” Emma said, glancing between Tink and Elsa, holding her brother’s hand a bit tighter.
“Emma, you have magic. Like my sister,” Anna said helpfully. “Well, probably not like my sister’s—hers is focused on one specific thing and most magic users in the realm, or at least the ones I’ve met or heard of, most of them have more of a general sort of magic which might be even more helpful—not that Elsa’s magic isn’t helpful or beautiful—” Kristoff cut her off with a look, one she knew well.
Emma reeled. If Leo hadn’t been holding her hand, she surely would have been lost. “Magic,” she breathed, equal parts disbelief and awe. “Wait, how would I not know that I have magic?”
“It doesn’t always present itself as…forcefully as Elsa’s,” Tink explained. “But it makes sense, you are a product of True Love, the most powerful magic of all.”
Emma shook her head at nothing and everything. “Regardless, even if I did or do have magic, I don’t know how to use it.”
“So we train you,” Tink said.
“I can help,” Elsa offered. “We have to try,” she added, catching Emma’s drifting gaze.
Emma ran a hand over her ponytail. “Right, of course. Of course we try. Anything to help save my parents and the kingdom.”
“Alright,” Tink said as she got to her feet, looking expectantly at Emma.
“What, right now?”
“Unless you have a reason to wait,” Tink replied, knowing she didn’t.
Robin cleared his throat. “I guess that means the meeting is adjourned. We’ll spend a few days strategizing, healing, and, I suppose, training.”
Robin’s men dispersed, but Emma’s remained, waiting for the next order or to see if they could help.
“I knew that knife vest was magical,” Will huffed, somewhere between envious and joking. Red smacked him.
Liam sat a little taller in the wake of Will’s rudeness, or rather his failed attempt at releasing the tension. “We will assist you however we can, Captain,” he said.
“Does he always call you that?” Leo asked his sister, his nose crinkling at the title. “Do you even qualify as a captain?”
“She’s got a ship,” Liam interjected, the same fond exasperation painting his voice that he often used when his own brother was involved. “She’s our captain. It’s only right we address her as such. Unless, of course, she wishes we use her royal title,” he nearly threatened.
Leo surrendered. “Captain it is, then.”
“Can we help?” Red asked, turning the focus back to Elsa and the situation at hand.
Elsa pursed her lips. “I’m not sure how, but perhaps. For now though, it may be best that we have some privacy. See if we can get a spark.”
“If you dislike me so, Your Majesty, you need only say so,” Will teased, getting up from his spot.
Elsa’s eyes widened until Anna laughed, then they narrowed at him, slightly irritated.
“Apologies, Your Majesty, he’s an acquired taste,” Mulan said, shooing him away before she left, too.
Belle stood, glancing between Elsa, Emma, and Tink. “Though I have never possessed magic, I have read quite a lot about it. Perhaps I can be of some assistance?”
“You can sit with me,” Leo said, crossing to his friend.
“Killian and I can keep an eye out for you all,” Liam said. “We wouldn’t dare intrude, but you can’t be too careful these days.”
“No,” Emma replied, “you can’t.” She shot him a grateful smile before following Elsa and Tink who led them away from camp, far enough that they wouldn’t be disturbed unless something was wrong.
Red had joined the Jones brothers on their watch, though from that distance, she was much more likely to overhear than they were. Having heightened senses certainly had its advantages.
“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Liam said as he watched Emma take her place opposite Elsa in the clearing.
Red shrugged. “If Snow and David weren’t…Snow and David, perhaps I would be surprised, but no, it’s not all that shocking.”
Killian turned from the group, fixing his eyes on the treeline and standing guard, as they were supposed to do. Red and Liam exchanged a look, amusement tugging at their mouths.
“Did you suspect our Captain had magic, little brother?”
“Younger brother,” Killian corrected. “It’s not my place to have suspicions about our future sovereign,” he added curtly.
Red pressed her lips together to keep herself from laughing. Liam chuckled, which made Killian turn around just so he could glare at his brother.
“Do you wish to say something, Liam?”
“Not at all,” he said, making no attempt to mask the humor in his voice. “I’m merely curious if you were surprised at this development, that’s all.”
“Of course I’m not bloody surprised,” Killian snapped, his back to them again as he returned to his post.
The two were quiet for a moment. “You’re not? At all?” Liam wondered.
“No,” Killian said. “I knew she had magic the moment her blade caught Silver’s whip.”
Red moved, stepping into his line of view. “You knew?”
“Suspected,” he replied. “Though I was fairly certain. She’s always sort of…glowed. I would’ve mentioned it before, but it’s not my place.”
“Not your—” Liam cut himself off, coming to stand beside Red. “Killian, you simply must get over this idea that you and Emma can’t—”
Killian’s hand came up to prevent him from speaking another word. “Not now, Liam. Please. I’m trying to concentrate. If you’ve forgotten your duty, you volunteered us to keep watch, and I’ve never known you to go back on your word.”
“Killian,” Liam practically growled. He forced himself to take a breath. “Fine. We’ll do our duty. But we will speak about this again, brother. On that, I give you my word,” he said pointedly.
— —
Emma frowned at her own hands in the darkness, her uncertain gaze flitting between Elsa and Tink. Tension crept up her arms, slithering around her shoulders—she dropped her hands, huffing out a sigh.
“This isn’t working.”
“You’ve only just begun,” Elsa reminded her. “You must be patient with yourself.”
A laugh echoed from the base of a nearby tree. “Patience has never been her strong suit,” Leo called, though his words were quickly followed by Belle’s reprimand.
“We can kick him out, you know,” Tink muttered, only half joking.
“No, it’s fine,” Emma said, fear wrapping itself around her limbs at the thought of having him anywhere else. “I’m used to it,” she added, although she wasn’t. Not anymore. Not after all this time.
“Magic is about feeling, Emma. It isn’t just willpower, you have to work with it, give and take,” Elsa explained.
“Give and take,” Emma repeated. “Right. I can do that.”
She shook out her arms, trying to dispel the tension before she placed her hands in front of her again, letting her eyes slip closed. She gathered the image in her mind, picturing her goal: the rock Elsa had set on the ground, levitating. She threw in a plea to her magic, asking politely, diplomatically, if it would do her this favor.
But when she pried her eyes open, the rock lay as uselessly as before, and her hands fell uselessly at the sight.
“Again,” Elsa encouraged.
Emma obeyed, her heart sinking further with each failed attempt. She was wasting her time, precious as it was. But she kept trying, if only to hear Leo’s cries that were equal parts supportive and teasing. She convinced herself that he was having fun, and that was enough for her.
She wasn’t sure how long they’d been at it—how many times she’d failed—before Elsa called it for the night. Despite their lack of results, she seemed entirely undeterred, promising that they’d try again the following night.
Tink offered her some water and a smile that was somewhat apologetic. “I know it can be frustrating, but you’ll get it. Believing in yourself is half the battle.”
Emma hummed, though she chose not to voice her skepticism. “Thanks,” she said, taking a sip.
Tink glanced to Leo, finding him helping Belle to her feet. “Your brother’s curse, did you…?”
“Tried,” Emma breathed. “Didn’t work.”
Tink sighed, shaking her head. “She must’ve done something to it.”
“To what?”
“The curse.”
Emma froze, her mind taking a moment to catch up. “Like what? What can she do?”
“She can’t prevent True Love’s Kiss from working, but she can attach…requirements to it,” she paused, gathering her thoughts. “It must need to be your parents.”
Rage tore at Emma’s chest, her eyes pricking from the force of it. “Then we’ll save my father, and he can fix this. Even if I can’t.”
“We will beat her, Emma,” Tink said.
Emma looked up, finding the constellation that had called to her for months before her eyes were drawn to her brother where he stood laughing with Belle. She had no choice—they had to win.
Leo jogged over to them, a mischievous smile curling at his lips. “How about some training?”
“As if I haven’t had plenty of that tonight already,” she grumbled.
He grinned, his sword in his hand before she could blink.
“This oughta be good,” Tink said, backing away and joining Belle who stood watching.
“I’m surprised it’s taken him this long,” Red added, startling Tink and Belle who hadn’t heard her approach.
“Captain and the prince sparred often, then?” Liam wondered.
Emma ignored them, backing away to draw her own sword. “I don’t wanna hurt you, Leo,” she warned, though both of them knew she wasn’t capable of it.
He practically cackled. “It’s been a rough few months, Emma. I’ve learned quite a bit.” He surged forward, but metal only met metal.
“So have I,” she shot back, and he stumbled from the force of her counter.
Their audience cheered, but the battle had only just begun.
— —
Killian had been so tempted to watch, although he knew who would win. And when he heard her victorious cheer, he smiled to himself.
His joy was cut short, his eyes catching on a figure fast approaching—one of Robin’s scouts, out of breath and frightened. “Black Knights, sir,” the young man panted. “A score of them, just rounding the western edge of our camp.”
“Good work, lad. Go to the heart of camp, tell the others, I’ll inform the Captain. Go,” he urged, not wasting another moment before he took off towards Emma.
The lightness of her features vanished the moment she saw him and his grave expression, drawing her sword once more. “They’re here,” she breathed.
“Robin’s scout spotted them, to the west.”
“We need to draw them away,” she decided, glancing up to see his nod of confirmation. She headed straight west and he fell in behind her, neither concerned with the confused group they were leaving behind.
“What has happened?” Liam asked, stalling their progress.
“Black Knights,” Emma replied. “They’re close to camp.”
Leo brandished his own sword. “So we take care of them.”
Emma knew she couldn’t make him stay behind, her gaze flickering to Red who planted herself at his side.
“You’re sticking with me, kid. I think we can handle a few of them,” she said, a wolfish grin overtaking her lips.
Emma turned back to the elder Jones. “Stay here with Elsa, protect those unable to protect themselves. Robin and his men will be behind us at any moment, but we must lead the Black Knights away.”
Liam nodded, telling her unspoken things with his expression—things that didn’t need to be said. And then they were off.
“How many?” Emma asked Killian, her voice barely more than a whisper as they hurried silently through the forest, Red and Leo following closely.
“Twenty,” Killian replied.
“They never travel with so many,” she muttered to herself.
“Aye,” he said, “they must have gotten word of a sighting, or—”
“Or they followed the trail of their dead friends,” she finished bitterly.
Killian shook his head, knowing they lacked the time for such distractions as these. “We will draw them away, but we cannot linger here much longer. Their bodies will act as a beacon, leading more right to us.”
“We’ll discuss our options once the Black Knights no longer threaten our camp,” Emma decided. She stopped them, sensing that the enemy was close before she even heard the thudding of their armor as they marched. “Red, Leo, cut around from the south.”
They moved, rushing out of sight to do exactly as she ordered.
Killian stood at her side, ready when she was.
She caught his gaze, and with a nod, they took off to the north, running past them close enough to startle the brush within the knights’ line of sight, halting their progress and diverting their path.
The two ran until they were certain they were being chased, and Emma stopped them, pulling Killian behind a tree so they could catch their breath. Her hand remained on his wrist even after they were hidden from sight, and they stood so closely that his breath warmed her face, her heart racing from more than just the impending fight.
Then the Black Knights were upon them, and they emerged from their hiding place, toppling the first easily in their surprise. The next were not so quickly beaten, and soon they both fought off more than one at a time—until Red and Leo appeared once more, thinning the crowd and evening out the fight.
Emma withdrew her concealed dagger, slitting the throat of the knight who lunged at her, gutting the next one who tried. She spun to find another already beginning his attack, but he fell to his knees, revealing Killian as he yanked his sword from the man’s back.
They gravitated together, fending off the Evil Queen’s pawns and finding strength in each other.
Too many surrounded, but they’d done this before, and when Killian’s hand landed on her waist, her fingers brushed his as they withdrew neighboring blades, downing two more opponents and leaving the others stunned and off balance.
One of them broke off, instead finding an easier target—Leo. He stalked towards the prince who was distracted with another, but before Emma could call out, Killian had already leapt forward, tackling the man who threatened her brother and allowing her to focus on the knights who threatened her.
Red discarded one then another, leaving Emma to slice through the last, and when she looked up, Killian was helping Leo to stand, not a scratch on him.
The same could not be said for Killian, however, whose cheek was bloodied though he seemed unaffected.
Panic bubbled in her throat, and she nearly stumbled over the bodies on her way to him. “Killian, you’re hurt,” she cried.
“Nothing fatal, Swan, I assure you,” he replied, dabbing at his cheek as if it were water instead of blood.
“A souvenir from your heroic efforts, Sir Killian,” Leo said, his nod of thanks undercutting his humorous tone slightly.
Killian’s flustered expression silenced the panic that still sought to choke Emma. “Just doing my duty,” he insisted, “and I’m no knight, Your Highness.”
“You’ve saved my life, I think that earns you the right to use my name,” Leo told him. “And you’re wrong about that. I’ve seen knights half as brave, half as loyal, half as true. Not to mention half as skilled. If my mother were here now, I’d have her knight you right here on the forest floor. In fact, I’d offer to knight you myself if I thought for a second that you’d allow it.”
“I need no title,” Killian protested.
“And see, that’s exactly what I thought you’d say,” Leo smirked, patting his shoulder.
Emma’s heart constricted, meeting Red’s knowing gaze before she could look away, clearing her throat. “Come on, we should let the others know that the danger has passed. For now.”
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read another crazy fic where apparently emma divorces killian for being an abusive alcholic which cheats on her after hope is born, sqs want him to be a shitty father and partner so bad when that's not the case. luckily i found another great fic capturing moments with cs as parents to hope and every milestone killian gets emotional over including her first steps and sending her to pre-school. i know he'd cry over seeing his little girl growing up :), just wanted to share
It's even funnier when you know that SQ wanted Emma as Regina's knight cause Regina was an innocent little mol bean that never did anything wrong that needed saving and to get her happy ending... but fics have Regina as Emma's knight. LOL.
The captainswan positive fanfic sounds sweet though. I can totally see Killian being emotional about Hope and the happy moments in their life much like how he was with Emma in the iconic Pancake Scene. I like to think of Emma and Killian enjoying the loving family life they were both robbed of as children and just simply soaking up every moment.
#anti swanqueen#fandom asks#what the hell kinda fic did that regina apologist just write#reacting to ouat fanfics
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Hi I hope it’s okay to ask you this. I was wondering if you would share what you had planned for the ending of Whether We Wake or Sleep. Not in like a nagging way just because it’s one of my favorite fanfics and I’m curious about how you were going to end it. Anything you’re comfortable sharing I’d love to hear. Thank you!
Omfg Nonnie I’m so sorry I didn’t see this message until now checking another message. I feel so fucking bad, I hope you are still out there!
Im torn because I don’t want to leave people hanging on it, it’s been so many years and I want to finish it but my brain has moved so far beyond that place I’m not sure I could even do it anymore. The characters voices might not be in my head anymore. But I still kinda wanna try. I loved it so much and it was such a huge part of my life and I didn’t get even to the scene that started it all 😭.
But you have been beautifully patient so I’ll share what I had so far, and who knows maybe I’ll take some time soon to finish it up! I hate leaving it unfinished, it was one of my favorite stories. I doubt I’ll finish my other OUAT WIPs but this one was super special to me. We were just a few chapters away and I still know everything I wanted to do.
I’m going to post the last scene of Chapter 9 and what I had so far for Chapter 10 below as a gift for your lovely feedback and being so patient, but based on other messages it was awhile ago. I’ll see what I can do about wrapping this story up. Please forgive me 🙏🏻.
The Chapter 10 snippet (it’s only a few hundreds words) comes after the *********.
~~~~~~~~~
Graham.
He looked exactly as she remembered him. The light curl of his hair. The dusting of stubble along his jaw. The way he stood, sure of himself but apart from the world. It was like being hit by a wave, a swift rush of emotion and awe jolting her physically just seeing him again, pulled into the undertow. For a moment she forgot herself, staring openly across the tavern at this walking ghost, at a relic from the past. Killian nudged her with his arm, and she turned back, ducking into the safety of her hood, her heart beating a rapid tattoo in her ears. They were well hidden in the shadows of the corner, but Graham was not alone, flanked on either side by two bored looking Black Knights acting as escort.
“I’ll take that as a yes, shall I?” Killian muttered. He downed the foul ale in one long gulp. It was his third.He had been surly, his face dark and shadowed, since he had returned to their room the previous evening. He had lain next to her in their shared bed without argument this time, turning his back to her without a word, though if he actually slept she couldn’t tell. He’d had no nightmares this time, his breathing steady next to her the entire night. She couldn’t blame him, she understood completely, her own nerves raw and frayed, anxiety pooling in her stomach. You never realized how long the night was when you had to wait for it to pass.
“Yes,” Emma whispered, sneaking another glance. “That’s him.” He was still at the bar, his face solemn and expressionless, but polite, collecting a handful of coins from the innkeeper with a nod.
“Alright then.” Killian put the empty tankard down with a bit more force than necessary. “I’ll distract the guards, see if you can get his attention.” He rose.
“Don’t,” Emma said, panicking. She reached out, grabbing his hand. “Wha-What do I do?”
The smirk he gave her was more of a forced sneer than anything, a flash of teeth, as he pulled his hand away. A fresh stab of hurt had her wincing as he backed away from her like she had burned him.
“I’m sure you’ll think of something Swan,” he said with that horrible false sort of cheer that only made it worse. “It’s True Love!” It was like he had slapped her. Another physical blow of pain that rocked her where she sat.
Killian turned on his heel and crossed the bar. Emma watched him anxiously, torn, and unsure of what to do. She didn’t want this. It hurt too much. She didn’t want to see Graham. But she desperately wanted to see him again at the same time. She didn’t want to cause Killian pain but this plan left her little choice in the matter. This wasn’t right. To be fucked with by some higher unknown destiny this way.
Graham had turned away, walking towards the door. He was leaving. She was about to miss her chance.
“Your story,” Emma whispered to herself. “It’s your story.” She was a bounty hunter. She had been through similar scenarios before. If she couldn’t sort out her own feelings she could at least do that. Pretend he was just like any other skip. This was just another job. Someone she needed to capture.
She leapt to her feet, just as Killian threw himself bodily into another man, at another table, sending half full cups of alcohol and bowls of the same greasy stew from the day before to the floor. Killian gave a slurred apology, playing the drunk with practiced ease, and clumsily went to pick up the discarded dishes, only to drop them again. The man he’d fallen into bellowed in outrage, cursing him and the Black Knights turned at the commotion, amused at the drunken lout. One stepped forward with a good natured chuckle to break it up.
Emma slipped past, her eyes trained on the floor, head turned to the side. She focused on the pair of soft brown boots that were leaving the tavern, apparently not interested in drunken bar fights. She increased her speed, the sunlight bright as she followed him out into square.
Graham was just ahead of her, apparently having no issue leaving his men behind as he moved to tuck away the small purse of gold he’d taken from the bar keep. Emma picked up her pace. And rammed right into his back.
The purse fell to the ground, tiny discs of gold rolling out of it into the dirt.
“Oh gosh,” Emma exclaimed, her voice high and breathless. “I didn’t see you there I am so sorry.” She followed him down to her knees. “Let me help you sir.”
“No, no need. I got it.”
Emma’s breath caught at the sound of that voice. So familiar. The accent thick, not friendly but not angry either. Resigned. She looked up, her mouth dry as she finally took him in fully. His eyes were not the same, she thought. Less open. Duller somehow. He glanced at her briefly as he gathered the coins. “Be a bit more careful, eh?” He said.
Her heart sank a bit. There was no flash of recognition. No grand romantic spark. No bolt of lightning. Just an act of clumsiness and a polite dismissal. Emma checked that off mentally. Made note of it. She wasn’t one prone to romanticized notions, so she wasn’t quite sure why, but it seemed important.
“I-I actually wanted to talk to you,” Emma stuttered. He did look at her with interest now, and more than a hint of suspicion.
“Me? What about?” The last of the gold collected he rose to his feet, reaching down to help her up with brusque efficiency. Emma looked at his hand for a long moment and then placed her own inside it.
Nothing. She didn’t know what she’d expected. His hand was warm, the skin roughened softness from labor, but nothing more than that, and gone as soon as she was back on her feet. She made another mental check.
“I-um-I,” Emma cursed herself. She was better than this. “I just, saw you in the bar, and I wanted to introduce myself.” She said finally, lowering her voice in a way she hoped was interested without coming across too strong. She should know this, she thought. She should know him. What he would like, what he wouldn’t. Her mind came up blank.
Graham just stared at her expectantly, more than a bit impatient.
“I’m Mary,” Emma said finally. “Mary Margaret.”
“Nice to meet you Mary Margaret. If you’ll excuse me though, I’ve a lot of stops to make,” he gave his pocket a pat where the coins jingled. “It’s collection day.”
“I know, I know, I just wanted to talk to you,” Emma rushed. She glanced behind her at the tavern entrance, unsure of how much time Killian could buy her.
“About?” Graham asked. His brow furrowed, scanning her face. “I know you-” he said, trying to work out if he actually did, more of a question than an absolute.
Emma’s heart stopped. He knew her. Did that mean-?
“You’re the girl on the poster. The one the Queen is looking for,” Graham’s voice was rising in alarm, his eyes darting back towards the tavern. He reached out, grabbing her arm.
“No,” Emma jerked back. “That’s not-” she pulled harder but Graham was strong. There was a reason he was chosen to be Sheriff. “That’s not what I need to talk to you about. It’s a misunderstanding. A great big misunderstanding, I just need to-” Graham had a good grip now.
“I don’t want to take you in,” He was saying apologetically. “I don’t have a choice. I have to do as she orders.”
“No you don’t,” Emma said, desperate now. This wasn’t going well at all. As far as meet cutes went this was turning into a disaster. “I just need to talk to you.”
“You can talk all you like on the way to the palace,” Graham said. He was pulling her arms behind her back now, fully in arrest mode. Emma couldn’t get them free, boots sliding across the dirt as he dragged her bodily back towards the tavern and the waiting Black Knights. Back to Regina and her dungeon, a burning pyre and the end of this entire horrible journey.
Emma sucked in a deep breath and blurted out the only thing she could think of, the only way she knew of to get his attention. The only way she knew this might work out. Perhaps she could save herself and an innocent man at the same time.
“I want to help you get your heart back.”
********
Graham’s grip loosened in surprise at her words, and Emma used the opportunity to dart away. She didn’t run. She stepped just out of reach, holding her hands up in supplication.
“Yeah, I know about that,” she said. Her feet moved across the packed earth, and they circled each other for a moment. Graham narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but she could see the warring emotion in them, the surprise and the tiny spark of hope that flitted across his face.
“How?” He asked, his voice soft. His hand moved unconsciously up, brushed his chest and dropped again. “How could y’know that?”
“I’ll explain everything,” Emma said. Her gaze darted back to the tavern. “But not here. I want to help you, to-,” she felt her throat constrict. “-to save you. But I can’t do that if you take me in.”
“The Queen-” he tried again, and took a step towards her.
“Never gave you a direct order to capture me,” Emma said following his movement with a step back of her own. It was more a guess than any kind of factual knowledge. She had no idea how far reaching Regina’s control was of his heart. No idea of what he could be made to do. “So you don’t have to do anything. I’m just asking you to hear me out.”
Graham opened his mouth for a moment, considering, and a small flare of triumph rose in her stomach. He frowned, gauging his own reaction, testing his limits. No, she realized. Testing Regina’s limits.
“There is a difference between being a slave and being a puppet,” Emma said. She saw him draw in a sharp breath. “You are still in control, Graham.”
“I am-” he let the thought trail off. “Who are you?” His gaze swept her, and she was almost sad she was hidden behind a glamour. If he could see her would it matter? Would he recognize her even though they had yet to meet? Would he somehow just know her? Connected by something greater than recognition, more powerful than acquaintance, could he see her through all the magic and deception?
“I’m-” Emma had no idea how to respond. “-a friend?” Her hesitation over the word made his expression sharpen with suspicion.
“I can explain it all, I promise.” She darted another glance at the tavern. She could feel her brief window of opportunity slipping away. “I’ll meet you. Firefly Hill, tonight. Midnight.”
That was the place Killian had suggested she tell Graham to meet her. It was a few miles or so away, far enough from the village they would be alone, away from the threat of Black Knights, isolated enough for a private conversation but close enough to reach on foot with relative ease. A neutral ground. A safe place, to do...whatever she needed to do.
Killian couldn’t help his sneer at the time she’d suggested, his eyes colder and further away than she had ever seen them.
“A kiss at midnight,” he had said softly. “How poetic. Just like a fairy story.”
He was building walls. She could recognize that as easily as looking in a mirror. He was shutting himself away. That had almost broken her. Emma shook the thoughts away, determined now as she has been then, and focused on the man in front of her. The man she was supposed to be thinking about.
She might not be able to control anything about this situation, she might not know how she felt about him, but she could at least try to save him. If nothing else, perhaps Graham Humbert or The Huntsman, or whoever he truly was, could live. Perhaps she could right one injustice.
“If you don’t like what I have to say you can bring me to The Queen. I won’t resist.”
Graham just stood there, confused and torn. She took heart that he had made no further move to apprehend her. He rubbed the spot on his chest again and frowned.
“Will you meet me?” She asked, half a whisper, half a plea.
Graham met her eyes full on, and Emma felt a jolt, a twisting in her gut that she couldn’t identify. It was tinged with guilt, with sorrow, and she had to swallow around the lump in her throat. “Please.”
“Aye.” He whispered. “I’ll meet you.”
____
“They really meant the Hill part didn’t they?” Emma groaned, her breathing labored as she crested the last rise of what she was sure was a small mountain. Killian was just ahead of her, already at the top, scouting.
“Alright there, Swan?” He asked, face pinched with concern. His hand went automatically for his satchel and Maleficent's potion within.
“I’m okay,” she wheezed waving him off. “Just not in as good a shape as I thought.”
He took a flask out instead, handing it to her. She eyed it for a second.
“Just water,” he gave her a flash of teeth that could be a smile, all without actually letting his eyes land on her. He had been doing that for hours, looking at her without looking at her. It was maddening and it hurt, but she pushed it away.
Save Graham. The rest could be sorted out later.
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most wanted (11/11) [CSSNS21]
Summary: Killian Jones has been tracking Emma Swan, notorious cat burglar, across the realm as she’s wanted for murder. The sooner he finds her, the faster he gets back to his daughter. But meeting an enchanting lass in a small village—along with Miss Swan’s feline familiar (perhaps too familiar)—definitely affects his plans; this case might not be as open-and-shut as he’d like.
A/N: Ahhh we're finally here! The last chapter! Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this adventure and for all your lovely comments!! Hope you enjoy this final part! Forever thanks to the best beta ever @optomisticgirl and to @cssns for putting on the event each year, even if I am so far behind here.
rated T | 5.8k words | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | AO3
“And then I’m all yours,” Emma purred, putting her arms around Neal’s neck even though her wrists were still cuffed. “I love you, baby.”
“Aww, I love you too,” Neal replied, though it was clear his heart wasn’t fully in it—he just loved that he was getting his way.
Emma, though—for all that Killian had learned to read her, her skills in deceit were expert and he’d obviously been wrong about her before, even when he had all his faculties (which he didn’t have at the moment, pain still blurring his vision).
So he wasn’t sure who she was lying to: Neal…or him.
And the way she was pressing her body against Neal suggested the latter.
But he couldn’t do anything about it kneeling in the dust. However, when he shifted to stand, a couple of Neal’s thugs were immediately on him, grabbing his biceps and forcing him to stay down.
That drew Neal’s attention, even though Emma’s lips had been suspiciously close to his. “So, got any ideas on what to do with him?”
Emma shrugged. “Whatever you want; I don’t care.” She was looking straight at him with a look bordering on contempt. It hurt more than he cared to admit.
Neal stepped back from Emma and guided her shackled wrists over his head—though he held them a moment and pressed a kiss to the back of a hand, to which Emma gave a girlish giggle. It was easy to see how he’d charmed her in the first place, even if it was somewhat performative. (Killian would know; he’d done that move a million times—including to her.)
“We'll have you out of those things soon,” Neal told her, nodding at the cuffs. “But hold onto this in the meantime.” And handed her the gun, which she didn’t hesitate to take, quickly moving her finger to the trigger. Either Neal was an idiot, or Killian had been well and truly duped.
Neal turned his attention back to Killian, pulling out a pocketknife from his trousers before kneeling in front of him. “Who knew I’d get the satisfaction of killing the man who ruined my family twice?” he taunted, making a show of flipping the switchblade open. “I should have known I was off; the other guy went down too easily—had no idea what I was talking about. Figured he just forgot. But you—you look like you’d put up more of a fight. Like you took her as some sort of trophy, I bet; is that it? You just love to tear families apart?”
“No,” Killian snapped back. “I told you—I loved her.”
Neal ignored him. “That guy was pretty, but you’re prettier…I can see why my mom was taken in. It’d be a shame if something happened to that face.” He struck out with the blade at Killian’s cheek, slicing a thin but deep line that made Killian hiss in pain; he could feel warm blood running down his face almost immediately.
“But you probably need your neck more, huh?” Neal went on, pressing the knife against Killian’s jugular. It wasn’t the first time Killian had been in that position, but it had been a while, and the determination in Neal’s eyes made him think he was most likely to actually do it.
“Let me guess—you thought you were gonna take Emma, too? Some knight in shining armor deal?”
“Why would I want someone I was trying to arrest?” he said, feigning disinterest.
“Same reason you took the wife of a man you’d later arrest,” Neal countered, putting more pressure on the blade; Killian tried to move his neck away, but only had so much room to move. “Do you get off on the power or something? And then just toss them aside when you’re done?”
“Is that what your father told you?”
“He said you charmed her away from us, and then let her die when you got bored with her.”
“He lied,” Killian insisted, hoping an emotional plea might get Neal to stand down. “We fell in love, and we ran off together. Your father was too much of a coward to tell you the truth. And she didn’t just die—he killed her. He tore out her heart and crushed it in front of me. I did vow revenge for that, and I achieved it when I arrested him. But believe me, I was just as heartbroken at losing her as you.”
An array of emotions played across Neal’s face at what was apparently a revelation. It was to be expected, really, and the look that finally settled in place was a familiar one—one he’d worn so often as a scared, lonely boy.
“She abandoned me?” he said in a small voice, and for a moment, the scared young boy that he must have been once showed through.
“Not a single day went past where your mother didn't regret leaving you. But you have to understand just how unhappy she was.”
“No!” Neal shouted back, looking away. “You’re still lying! None of this is true! She loved us and you took her!” To emphasize his denial, he pressed even harder with the knife, and Killian could feel the sharp edge start to cut into his skin.
“A person’s not an object, mate; and I’m a bounty hunter, not a kidnapper. Trust me, I have no need to engage in any such deception to get a woman in my bed. Perhaps your father should have taken better care of his partners; perhaps you should, too.”
“Or what—you’ll steal her away, too?” Neal scoffed. “Didn’t you hear, though? She still loves me.”
Killian didn’t have a retort for that. That was beside the point right now, though. He would get over Emma’s double crossing; it might take some time, but he would. But he couldn’t let whatever heartache he was feeling prevent him from fighting to get back to Alice.
However—the blade was still cutting into his neck, blood likely staining his collar by now, and any move he could make to free him from his captors’ hold would only increase his chance at mortal injury.
“Not anymore, asshole.”
Emma’s voice drew the attention of both him and Neal, and before either could truly acknowledge her presence, she took the butt end of the pistol and, with the full force of both hands, smacked it down on Neal’s temple.
He swayed for a moment, dropping his knife, and then collapsed on the ground, unconscious.
Killian stared agape, too stunned to even appreciate the fact that Neal’s cronies had loosened their grip on him, likely equally surprised by the turn of events.
“Sorry,” Emma said, staring right at him. “I just couldn’t think of anything else to do.”
Killian blinked a moment. “Sorry for what? I’m not the one who’ll be waking with a splitting headache,” he replied, nodding at Neal and trying (and failing) to keep the bitterness out of his voice.
“Oh, Killian—no,” she insisted—though what she meant, he wasn’t sure. She stepped over Neal’s comatose body and dropped to her knees in front of him. “I meant—all of it,” she explained. “I was just doing whatever I could to make sure he didn’t hurt you. Though I guess I didn’t do the best job,” she lamented, then grabbed her skirt and tried to dab the blood off his face.
But that didn’t concern him at the moment, so he stilled her hands with his. “So—you were playing him? About all of that?”
She almost looked angry. “Of course I was! You really think I’d go running back to that dick? Especially after everything that’s happened between us—-after this morning?” she added quietly.
“Given our history, can you blame me for being uncertain?”
“No,” she conceded, and blotted up some of the blood on his neck. “Gods, these are gonna leave scars.”
“It’s alright, love,” he assured her. “I’m fine—and I’m so glad you were lying.”
She grinned at him, but it quickly switched to a look of alarm as another voice interrupted. “And I’m glad he was telling the truth—at least, I presume so.”
Killian’s midsection was still incredibly sore, particularly on one side near his ribs, but he managed to sit and turn around to face the newcomer—and smiled. “Nemo.”
The older man wore an equally warm expression as he approached, which was also when Killian realized no one else was with them—Neal’s goons had ran off, clearly showing the (lack of) loyalty their boss inspired.
“Are you alright, my friend?” Nemo asked when he reached them, gingerly placing a hand of comfort on Killian’s shoulder.
“I’ve had worse days,” he replied, attempting to keep things light, even if the ache was settling in more as adrenaline faded.
Nemo patted his shoulder in a paternal move that seemed to say “we’ll talk later” before looking over at Emma. “And this must be the elusive Miss Swan?”
Emma looked somewhat panicked at being identified. “Aye, that she is,” Killian confirmed, reaching over to grab her hand and give a comforting squeeze. “Emma, this is Nemo, my boss.”
“I didn’t kill anyone, I swear,” she quickly blurted out, only to be met with a chuckle from Nemo.
“So I heard,” he answered. “And you can pin this fellow on other crimes?”
“Oh yeah,” Emma confirmed. “If you’re still looking for whoever robbed the bank in Franklintown last year, that’s him right there. Well, and me,” she confessed, “but I don’t care; I’ll tell you everything, even if it’s self-incriminating. I just didn’t do that.”
“In that case, I just might know a sympathetic judge who’ll be receptive to your story,” Nemo replied with a wink.
“You heard that, too?” Killian asked, impressed.
“Aye, almost all of it. I saw what happened outside the office, and followed as quickly as I could. This isn’t the most solid building; there were plenty of spots to spy from.”
“Yeah, Neal’s never been great at picking the best hideouts,” Emma added.
“Nor very original, I gather; we make at least one bust a month here. We knew where you were headed right away.”
Before either of them could ask who “we” was, an officer Killian had worked with on occasion—Billy, he thought was his name—popped his head in the open door. “We’ve got these guys, boss; want help with that one?” he asked, nodding at Neal.
“Yes, please,” Nemo replied, both polite and commanding in a way only he could manage. “I don’t think Jones here is going to be much help. We’d best get you to a surgeon,” he added in a quieter voice.
“Gods, I’m really so sorry, Killian,” Emma said again, trying in vain to staunch the sluggish flow of blood from the cut on his cheek.
“It’s done, love; we’ll both live to fight another day. But could you help me up?”
She nodded and smiled, though tears were brimming at her eyes. It was awkward, with the way her hands were still tied, but she managed to support his left arm enough that he could rise without jostling his painful right side too much. That also gave room for Billy and another officer (Jack, maybe?) to come in for Neal, who roused slightly, but only enough to get his feet under him.
Emma let him continue to lean on her and helped him shuffle outside, where the door was slamming on one prisoner wagon, but another waited, empty; Nemo stood beside the open back end.
“I guess that’s my ride,” she tried to joke, but its presence was anything but a laughing matter. This was it.
“Thank you for believing me,” she continued, turning to face him, “and for everything you’ve done. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to repay you—”
“You don’t have to, love,” he interjected, reaching up to wipe a tear that was starting to track down her cheek. “‘Twas my pleasure—all of it. And thank you for trusting me.”
Emma sniffed. “I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again, so—”
“You will.”
“I hope so,” she agreed, more optimistic than he’d yet heard from her. “Send my love to Alice and Belle.”
“I’ll do that.”
“And…gods,” she stammered. Her head fell, but then she stepped closer, closing what little space had remained between them and placing her hands on his chest before looking back up. “I'm not a tearful goodbye kiss person. But maybe just this once.”
Then she rose up on her toes and placed a deep kiss against his lips, one which he didn’t hesitate to reciprocate, despite his injuries. It was bittersweet—filled with the tenderness and sweetness of a new relationship but aching with an air of finality.
He held her as tight against him as he dared, even when they eventually broke apart for air. If this was the last moment they’d have for an unknown amount of time, they were going to savor it.
At least—until she shifted and hit his sore spot, making him suck in a breath in pain.
“Dammit—sorry,” she cursed, and stepped back a bit.
“With any luck, that will be all healed up next time you see me,” he promised her (through strained breaths).
He could see a quip on the edge of her tongue, but she bit it back. “Will you write?” she settled on.
“Absolutely.”
“Although—I don’t know where I’ll end up.”
“Nemo will.”
“Okay.” She glanced over her shoulder at the man in question. “I suppose I shouldn’t keep him waiting any more. I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too, Emma. See you soon.”
She gave him another sad smile, a quick peck on the cheek, and then walked away from him, toward her fate.
Nemo, ever the gentleman, helped her get up into the back of the wagon, closed (and locked) the door, and hit the side of the wagon to let the officers know they were free to drive away.
The wagons started slow, but then began their amble down the dusty alley to the jail a few blocks away. He watched as long as he could, until they turned the corner back to the high street.
He still needed to wrap up his paperwork back at the office, get examined by the local surgeon (and likely get some stitches), and find out if his preferred inn had a bed available; he didn’t have the energy for half the things on that list, let alone the ride back to Meryton.
He also needed to collect the bounty on Emma, which was going to feel like a hollow prize now, considering he’d much rather have her.
But the biggest thing on his mind as he watched the wagon slip out of sight was wondering how much he would regret not telling her he loved her.
Alas. It would have to wait. At least he was a patient man.
He limped over to Roger and mounted him, then headed off to take care of business. And to distract himself from the growing heartache in his chest.
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Eleven months later
Killian checked his pocketwatch for the umpteenth time and impatiently shifted his weight from side to side. He was on time—he always was—but would his mark be?
To say he’d thrown himself into work to fill the void Emma had left in his life wouldn’t exactly be accurate, but it wasn’t wholly untrue, either. Once he got home after the events in Longbourn, he spent a few months laying low and recuperating from what ended up being a couple cracked ribs, in addition to the lacerations. It was some much-needed down time with Alice that he hadn’t had in far too long, and they began to plot their big vacation.
They hadn’t gone just yet, though, as work had come calling again, not to mention his own restlessness. To be fair, he only took short assignments that never took him too far from home, but they were more frequent than they had been in the past, though generally simpler (and safer).
That was probably Nemo’s doing as much as anything; the man’s paternal instincts ran deep and he’d fretted about Killian nearly as much as Belle and Alice had, though obviously from afar.
But this—this was his biggest task yet, and he didn’t dare mess it up. Not that he often did, of course, but he was extra careful about being taken by surprise nowadays.
The street was fairly empty, thankfully, so no one paid much notice to him and Roger, waiting by the hitching post and staring at the building across the street. It was one of the quieter corners of town, on the far edge of Longbourn, but he knew his intel was good. He just felt like he’d already been waiting enough, though yet another check of his watch told him that only another minute had passed.
The door of the building he was watching swung open and he stood at attention—but the young man who walked out wasn’t who he was after; not even close.
What was the holdup? He went digging in his bag for the telegram Nemo had sent with the details, wanting to check again that he had the correct hour—that he hadn’t misread—even though he probably had the note memorized by now.
Of course, it said the present time, just like he knew it did. He sighed and shoved it back in the hidden pocket within the saddle bag, next to some other letters.
He turned back towards the street, leaned against Roger, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He was being irrational. He was too mature to act like this; everything would happen when it was supposed to.
Which was apparently now.
“Killian?”
Slowly, he opened his eyes and tilted his head forward. In the back of his mind, he hoped it was a move that looked casual and confident, even though his heart rate suddenly ticked up.
Because Emma stood just across the dirt lane from him, at the bottom of the steps coming from the kingdom’s womens’ prison.
The first thing he noticed was her shocked expression—perhaps not the reaction he’d hoped for, but not entirely unexpected. Otherwise, she looked—well, a bit tired, a bit wan, and her cream dress hung a bit loose on her frame. She’d also cut her hair to about chin length, and it was back to its natural blonde.
But she’d always look beautiful to him, and he couldn’t help but grin.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, taking a tentative step toward him. “Are…are you on a case?”
“In a manner of speaking,” he replied casually (though in tone only; he was actually restraining himself). “I thought you might prefer a ride, versus whatever other transportation plans you may have had upon release.”
She checked both ways before crossing the empty street, but still stopped several feet away from him. “How did you know I was getting out today? I didn’t even know until a few days ago; there’s no way you could have gotten my letter that fast.”
True to his word, he’d kept up communication with her as much as he was able; her replies were infrequent but cherished, and currently stashed in his saddle bag. “Nemo wired me,” he explained.
“That was kind of him,” she replied politely, though she seemed unsure at what that meant. Hopefully she realized that Nemo was the one who kept Killian in the loop and even made it possible for him to contact her while locked up; prisoner locations weren’t generally public knowledge and she certainly didn’t have his home address.
(Nemo had also gently teased Killian any time they met in person about his crush, which Killian took as a stamp of approval.)
“Well, you helped bring down a wanted killer. It was the least he could do.”
Emma blushed and looked down, but it was true: her testimony not only sent Neal away on the aforementioned murder charges, but also a string of other unsolved robberies that she was able to pin on him, and a few other accomplices.
She began to wring her hand around her wrist, which was when he noticed: the magic-blocking cuff was still there. “Oh, love—let me get that,” he said, then held out his hand to her, hoping she’d take it.
She did, albeit hesitantly, and he had to make a point to ignore the spark at contact. He gently guided her hand onto his hook and slipped the cuff off; the skin beneath was even paler than she was and slightly calloused, but she sighed in relief as soon as it was off. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry that it took so long to come off. It’s a clever, albeit cruel, trick of the thing that only the person who puts it on can remove it.”
“And they definitely wouldn’t have let you take it off before I was taken in.”
“Alas, no.”
A slightly awkward silence settled over them as she rolled her newly freed wrist; he tried not to wince at the audible pop it made.
“Oh, I have something that might make that feel better,” he said, and turned back to the saddle bag, digging through for a well-hidden bundle. “This is yours.” He presented the small, but important, package to her.
She untied the string holding it together, and then her eyes went wide when the fabric fell open “What…hold on, is this…?”
“Half of your bounty,” he confirmed.
“No, Killian—I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” he insisted. “Half is more than enough for me, but I can hardly leave you penniless and fresh out of jail.”
“I’d get by,” she said defiantly.
“I know. I have no doubt you would thrive. But I wanted to help ensure it.”
She worried her bottom lip. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. And I like the hair,” he went on, hoping to somewhat change the subject from the past to at least the present. “It’s nice to see your natural coloring.”
“Thanks,” she replied, still shyly, and tucked a bit behind her ear. “The brown was looking weird as it grew out, so one of the girls in there just cut it off for me. I’m still getting used to it being so short, though.”
“It frames your face nicely,” he couldn’t help but add.
She smiled up at him through her lashes, but her face suddenly fell and she practically jumped into his space.
“Oh gods—your cheek,” she lamented, reaching up to brush the new scar that crossed his face. “I didn’t realize that cut was so deep; I’m so—”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” he told her. “It wasn’t your fault. And it’s all healed now. Frankly, I think it makes me look rather dashing,” he only half joked, with a terrible wink.
She giggled and rolled her eyes, but continued to cup his face. “I missed you,” she admitted.
He knew she was taking a risk with that confession—showing her hand, baring part of her heart to him. And he appreciated it more than he knew how to express.
He hoped the fact that he had made the effort to be here expressed how he felt, but in case she hadn’t picked up on that, “I missed you too, love. Quite a lot.”
They were very close—close enough that he could easily pull her into his embrace, find her lips with his, but he didn’t want to push her too far too fast.
She seemed to be thinking about it too, though, if the way her eyes darted back up to his from the vicinity of his mouth was anything to go by. But then her stomach growled exceptionally loud, breaking the moment.
“Come on,” he chuckled. “I’m sure you could use a real meal.”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“I know a good diner not far from here. It’s not Granny’s, but it’s better than average.”
“Sounds amazing. Do you have to head out after that?”
It was obvious what she was doing: testing the waters to see if he was really there for her or not.
“Depends. Where do you want to go?”
“Well, I was given the address to a halfway house in town, so I had planned on heading there,” she started, and he hoped his face didn’t fall as quickly as his heart descended into his stomach.
“I can take you there, if you wish,” he offered.
“See…my plan, though, was to write and let you know where I was, then see what kind of response I got from you before making any other decisions. So you kind of made me skip that step,” she said with a teasing smirk.
“Are you complaining?”
“No, of course not. You saved me the postage.” Her winks were a lot better than his—but more, it was fun to banter with her again.
“And what kind of response were you hoping for?”
“Something like this,” she shrugged. “Westley coming for Buttercup and stealing her away. Unless…you didn’t…”
“I did,” he confirmed, then swallowed, suddenly nervous again. “It’s just…been a while,” he said, scratching behind his ear. “And I wanted to make sure that’s what you wanted, too. I didn’t want to assume anything.”
“I appreciate that,” she said, then stepped closer to him again and put her hands on his shoulders. “And that’s what I love about you.”
Killian blinked for a moment; he hadn’t expected that. But then he realized she was watching his reaction, and a grin quickly and involuntarily spread across his face. “I love you, too, Emma. I’ve regretted not telling you since the day we parted.”
“Jail cannot stop true love; all it can do is delay it for a while,” she paraphrased. (He may have read their new favorite book with Alice several times over the past year.)
He could probably have come up with a responding quip, but there’d be time for that later; right now, he just really, desperately needed to kiss her—and did so, wrapping his arms around her tightly and pressing his lips against hers firmly.
It somehow felt both new and familiar at the same time, which was probably appropriate—even if he knew Emma and his feelings for her, they actually had a chance now to give things a shot; to take a step forward together.
Eventually, they broke apart to take a breath, but stayed close—as they walked to the diner, while they ate, and as they mounted Roger and headed out; he intentionally took a route out of town that avoided the warehouse where they’d last been together.
“So where are we going?” she asked as they started to leave Longbourn.
He simply answered, “Home.”
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That night, they stopped in Meryton to rest. He made a point to find a nicer inn than the first time they had been there—but they did continue their train of thought from that night, so perhaps not a lot of rest was had. At least no one seemed to judge their late exit the following morning, or the shy, but knowing grins they continued to exchange through breakfast.
The day’s ride saw them enjoying the late summer sun as well as each other’s presence, Emma almost constantly leaning back against him with a relaxed smile on her face.
At some point, though, she noticed the difference in the amount of time they’d spent on the road versus their last trip, and most likely the difference in surroundings. “Where are we really going?” she asked as they stopped for dinner by another of the many roadside firepits he was familiar with.
“I told you—home.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him, but any further concerns fell silent in lieu of kissing (among other things). (This particular fire pit was imbued with a cloaking spell that made it invisible if it was occupied; they definitely took advantage of that fact.)
And after another long day of riding, they approached some familiar surroundings late in the afternoon the following day. When Emma realized where they were, she turned around and grinned at him.
Much like when they left last year, the residents of Storybrooke gaped at them as they rode into town. Killian could only imagine what tall tales the rumor mill had spun after their unceremonious departure—and wondered how much of it Granny and Ruby set to rights.
And he was sure they’d find out shortly; they’d hardly even reached the hitching post outside the inn before Emma was halfway off the horse. It was midafternoon, so thankfully they’d arrived in between meal rushes and had a chance at a proper reunion.
She at least waited for him to tie up Roger before running through the saloon doors ahead of him, and sudden screams and squeals of laughter and joy greeted him once he followed her inside.
Emma and Ruby were wrapped in a tight embrace next to the bar, which looked just the same as it had the last time he was here, though maybe bearing a few more scuffs. And Granny was on her way out of the kitchen to join the group hug, so Killian continued to hang back, not wanting to intrude—and knowing full well that the both of them were likely to fawn and dote on him in a matter of minutes.
He also had a question for them: did—?
“Papa! You’re here!!”
The question couldn’t even finish in his mind before Alice was tackling him about the midsection. He huffed a bit—his ribs were fully healed but still had their tender spots—but didn’t hesitate to return the hug.
“So are you, starfish; I was worried I may have beaten you here.” She’d been growing like a weed the last year and was nearly up to his shoulder now.
“Never! I did all the navigation—all by myself!”
“Is that so?”
“Well…Aunt Belle helped a little.”
“I see.”
“Only a little though,” the woman in question added, coming from the direction of the stairs to the boarding rooms.
“Alice? Belle?” Emma had stepped away from Ruby and was looking at the other reunion. “What are you…?”
“We’re here to see you!” Alice exclaimed, and promptly threw herself at Emma, then started to talk her ear off about…oh, everything.
Granny quickly prepared a feast in a way only she could, and they all sat down to catch up with one another; it turned out Ruby was now engaged and she was quick to announce that Granny had taken a paramour as well—a fact which made the older woman scold her salacious granddaughter…while blushing.
Alice was exceptionally taken with Emma’s natural hair color, especially because “It looks just like mine!” A fact she emphasized with a knowing look in Killian’s direction. Though she’d obviously never lacked for parental figures, the fact that her hair color was so dramatically different from his and Belle’s dark hues he knew occasionally bothered her. So he was pointedly ignoring her implication that she should have someone around she resembled in that department, even if it was far more likely to happen then she realized.
And after several days spent in town, actually on vacation this time, they settled into something resembling a life. There was a cottage for sale just a short walk outside of Storybrooke—right on the water, like the one Alice grew up in—and Emma immediately purchased it with her share of the reward money and insisted they stay any time they wanted. Which ended up being all the time.
Storybrooke wasn’t the most convenient town as far as staying connected with Killian’s office in Longbourn, but there was a village just to the south that was on the telegraph network, so it wasn’t uncommon for he and whichever lady in his life felt like it to take Roger for a bit of a ride to check messages.
Killian also continued to take fewer jobs, so he could spend more time with Alice—who flourished in their new town, attending the local school and making friends. More even than adventure, that was all he wanted for her, so he ended up turning over much of his part of the reward to Belle so she could go on a solo trip. (She tried to refuse, but he wouldn’t hear it; and the postcards she sent back were incredibly gorgeous.)
Emma became Killian’s partner in crime, so to speak—or rather, the opposite of it. Her feline side proved invaluable at times in conducting reconnaissance, and she just had a knack for finding people, to the point that she received the occasional solo assignment; Killian had been correct in his assessment of Nemo’s positive view towards her. (And then he teased Killian for not proposing yet. He did get there, though—in the middlemist meadow, on a date that closely resembled their first.)
Roughly a year after they returned to Storybrooke, they were attending Ruby’s wedding to Dorothy—Emma was the maid of honor, and Alice was the flower girl. It was a raucous party like the town hadn’t seen in ages, but exhilarating, and the best part was the shared looks of pure joy on the newlyweds’ faces.
“Guess that’ll be us next, huh?” Emma asked as they sat on a bench along the wall of Granny’s, catching their breaths after dancing.
“I would assume so,” he replied, taking her left hand in his right and observing the way his mother’s ring sat perfectly upon her finger. “Unless you’re having second thoughts; then I might have to see what Granny’s up to.”
“Don’t even joke—you know she’d take you up on it.” (Doubtful, with the way the old wolf currently was resting her head on her beau’s shoulder.) “You’re stuck with me, Captain.”
“Damn,” he said dryly, clearly not complaining.
They took advantage of the quiet moment to share a cuddle of their own, and he took in his surroundings: Alice was playing with her friends, Belle was dancing with the fellow she’d been seeing, and the woman he loved—despite their strange and almost impossible start—was in his arms.
Though it didn’t follow any path he’d ever expected, he seemed to be living out his own sort of fairy tale adventure, and even if it was unconventional, it was perfect in its own way.
Emma let out a happy sigh and rested her head on his shoulder. “What?” he had to ask.
“I'm just... happy,” she explained. “It still surprises me sometimes.”
“Aye, love. Me, too.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “And that’ll be us soon enough,” he added, nodding at the newlyweds, “and we can spend all our days living out our happy ending.”
Emma hummed and smiled. “I can’t wait. But I’m not sure about that term—happy ending. It’s not really an ending, is it?”
“I suppose not,” he had to agree. “What should we call it then?”
“How about…a happy beginning?”
“As you wish.”
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thanks for reading! tags: @kat2609 @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @shireness-says @ohmightydevviepuu @profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @winterbythesea @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @word-bug @distant-rose @wellhellotragic @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines @pirateherokillian @its-imperator-furiosa-default @fergus80 @killianmesmalls @thejollyroger-writer @ineffablecolors @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @nfbagelperson @stubblesandwich @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @idristardis @scientificapricot @searchingwardrobes @donteattheappleshook @jrob64 @the-darkdragonfly @itsfabianadocarmo @stahlop @klynn-stormz @resident-of-storybrooke @deckerstarblanche
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For the fandoms ask D, K, T, V
Oh @booksteaandtoomuchtv!!! Thank you so much for the ask! I really wanted to do some of these, so I'm glad you saw the reblog and sent them my way. :) Have a great Friday!!
D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can't: I hear people talk about FrankenWolf (Ruby x Victor Whale) which does sound like a cool pairing in theory, but I just can't get over not really liking Victor that much, and pretty much finding him to be a jerk and a letch. Ruby is seriously such an awesome character that I want her to be with only the best significant other. ;P
K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?
I feel like it has to be Killian Jones here. <3 He certainly isn't the only character who goes through a LOT of pain and trauma, but he genuinely learns from where he has stumbled and what he has been through. He starts out so hopeful and innocent, as the young lieutenant hoping he and his older brother can earn glory for their family name, and he gives into the Darkness when he sees how cruel and unfair the world can truly be. He does become a villain, but it is never out of pointless cruelty or just to flaunt his power either. Killian's villain story makes sense, and you're never unable to sympathize or see where he's coming from and how he got there. And THEN! He puts in the work - plain and simple. He decides to be a part of something good, to find that honorable man inside himself, and he becomes a true hero. He accepts blame when he must, he makes amends to those he's wronged, and his courage and bravery are undeniable by the end. Of the show's numerous redemption arcs, Killian Jones is the one with the best, most clear, consistent development . It often seems like he has to redeem himself over and over again, but he does it, where so many of the others fail.
T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending?
I'm really partial to the idea that Graham might have befriended Belle before the Dark Curse was cast, when she was Regina's prisoner in the castle tower and he was forced to be one of Regina's Black Knights because she had his heart. I like to think he might have snuck food or books to her when Regina wasn't looking, so that she had some sort of entertainment and didn't go crazy locked in there all alone. I would have loved to have seen them interact once the curse broke in Storybrooke and have had that story proven true...
I still believe it though, regardless. In my head, it definitely happened.
V- Which character do you relate to most? Probably Belle. I mean, she's always been my favorite princess, to start with. With her nose in the book and just her whole aspect really. I loved her portrayal on Once and thought Emilie DeRavin did a great job bringing her too life. They just should have given her more ventures and action with the heroes instead of tying her down to almost exclusively revolving herself around Rumple. Anyway, she's still the one I probably feel most like.
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another late contribution for this year's CS Supernatural Summer - hopefully it'll be worth your while ! i clearly lied last year so i'm posting the long-awaited second chapter of last year's entry today. you should definitely check out the first chapter before.
i hope you like it and feel free to share your thoughts!
thank you so much to @th3capta1n for being my beta
Summary: Ever since he was a boy, Killian Jones could see ghosts. Some were kind, others were a nuisance and rarely, he found the worst of them. This time he meets a woman who remembers nothing, except her name. Together, they’ll find out her story and help each other.
Word count: 7211 words
Rating: Teen and Up
tag list: @thisonesatellite @profdanglaisstuff @winterbaby89 @stahlop @winterbythesea @sotangledupinit
read on AO3 | read the first chapter here and AO3
Chapter Two The Swan
“Alright, can we all just calm down?”
Killian stepped away from the table under the looks of barely contained excitement from Emma and Henry. One of them should have a leveled head and it apparently fell on him.
“There is a mysterious book written in a completely foreign language that conveniently appears exactly when we need it and you’re not even the slightest bit suspicious?” His nervous expression didn’t seem to dissuade his audience as they just smiled.
“It’s clearly a magic book.”
“It’s magic, Mr. Jones!”
He exhaled a defeated sigh as he threw his head back.
“Magic? That’s your justification?”
“Mr. Jones,” Henry crossed his arms with a completely unimpressed look that almost put his mother’s to shame. “My gym teacher is a mermaid and a werewolf serves me hot chocolate every Friday. Magic is the only explanation.”
There was a satisfied smile on Emma's face as she mimicked the boy’s pose.
"So, Mr. Jones." Emma's use of his last name called his attention to her. "Do you have any other easily explainable issues or can you take a leap of faith and see what's in that magical book?"
A leap of faith. As he looked between Henry's eager eyes and Emma's worriedly excited expression, he thought he could. That it would take the sheer belief in a centuries old ghost and a 10-year-old boy to get him to believe wasn't lost on him.
"Fine." Killian sighed amused at the excitement clear on Henry's face. He turned a reassuring smile to Emma's steadying breath. "Let's see if the magic book has some answers."
“Yes!” Henry was quick to reach for the book while rushing around the desk to sit at Killian’s chair.
“You said it was written by Alice Jones?” Killian asked as he stepped to Henry’s left side.
“Do you know her?”
“Alice was my mother’s name, but I don’t believe I’ve ever seen her write a book, much less in a language she didn’t speak.”
“Maybe it’s your ancestor?” Emma offers. “I have been dead for a long time.”
“My mother named me after my grandpa, maybe it’s the same?”
Killian’s fingers stroke the ring still clutched in his hand trying to rationalize their suggestion. “This situation just gets curiouser and curiouser.”
“Maybe I should read the book?”
“We should see what Alice Jones has to tell us.”
Killian nods. Trusting a mystery book seemed to be the least crazy thing for him today.
There is a story that no one knows, the story of the Princess and the Huntsman. Of how they fell in love and wished for happily ever after. The story that no one knows but me.
“I can see now why you’re so dramatic.”
Killian rolled his eyes at the teasing kid - and the snickering ghost - despite the uptick of his lip, gesturing for him to carry on reading.
Misthaven was a kingdom of peace and prosperity and it had been so since before my youth. Its people loved their royalty and they loved them back. Those good times didn’t last for long. I remember my mother’s solemn face as she returned from work - a handmaiden to the Queen must be her confidant, but even she couldn’t keep Queen Snow’s worry to herself.
Ships with black sails threatened to surround Misthaven’s borders; black armored knights terrorized provinces; a menacing cloud of dark magic frightened everyone.
No powerful villain stepped forward to claim such attacks and no accomplice confessed. The Queen appeared to be frightful even as she summoned every war council available.
Despite their efforts, the darkness seemed undefeatable. The fairies’ light magic barely managed to keep it at bay. The kingdom needed a solution.
A neighboring kingdom housed a powerful King. A King whose army was unbeaten by any forces that threatened him. A King whose power didn’t compare to Misthaven’s light. A King who wanted unlimited power. King Rumplestilskin.
Misthaven was, for a while, blessedly ignorant over the imminent threat. As well as its young Prince. As for Princess Emma, she had been allowed to participate in the war councils presided by her parents since she became of age. Now, a decade after the first, she was more than ready and shared opinions with intelligence and level-headedness.
Killian could see Emma’s blush covering her cheeks and he wished he could hold her hand. He wished she wouldn’t be so surprised to hear such compliments. He wished a lot when it came to Emma.
I have been her handmaid since we were both children. I have watched her grow beside me, never feeling like less, but like an equal. I still hold fond memories of afternoons of joy and companionship. I also learned things that I will take to my grave, however her story of love won’t be one of them and for that I apologize. This I do to guarantee my princess’ rescue.
“Do you want me to keep reading, Emma?”
She seemed startled from Henry’s sudden stop, looking from the book, to the boy and back before looking at Killian. He hoped she saw the reassurance he was trying to show. She nodded.
“You can carry on, lad.”
Henry nodded and cleared his throat.
Once she became of age, there was no end to the line of suitors hoping to gain her hand in marriage. (Killian pushed down on the surge of jealousy in his chest.) However, the Queen and her Prince had married for love and they wished the same on their daughter. Every suitor she refused was led out with a tight lipped smile and well wishes. There was no talk of arranged marriages for the throne was hers regardless of matrimony.
And the Princess treasured her freedom - if not of life, of heart. Her father had started his life as a shepherd and was now the Queen’s prince consort. Perhaps an unknown sailor would have the same luck.
But it was no sailor or baker who won such honor as to hold the Princess’ heart in his hand. It was a huntsman.
As the Princess’ closest friend and confidant, I was able to hear about their first meeting, when he was nothing but a crude hunter. How she had been out for a pleasant ride. How he was ready to kill a defenseless deer. How she didn’t quite like my reminder that her table was regularly filled with defenseless animals too. How she blushed and said her issue was his rudeness, not his eating habits. How he had finally let the animal go. How she could not stop talking about him for the next few days.
I was also able to witness their second interaction. See the Princess’ provoked by the handsome Huntsman’s quips. See how she liked his quick wit and he enjoyed the irritated blush on her cheeks. See how she gave him her name with her nose in the sky and how he smiled and gave her his. I was able to hear it all again for the next week.
During the next month, Emma would go see him alone. And when she came back, there was always something to talk about. From the annoyance she felt about him to the quiet confession about her restless heart when around him. From the way he had almost hit her with an arrow to the way he had helped her off her horse. From the way he was also too close to the way he was never close enough. From crude hunter to Graham.
“Graham…”
Her whisper caught his attention and he saw a multitude of emotions behind her eyes.
“Do you remember him?” Killian asked.
Henry had stopped reading and was now looking between them.
“I do.” Her voice quivered and when she looked at him, he saw her glassy eyes.
“Should I stop?”
That seemed to bring Emma back, the determination replacing the grief.
“No, I need to know how it ends.”
“Are you sure, love?”
“I am.” The strong tone in her voice was enough to convince him even as worry filled him.
Killian nodded to Henry who seemed to feel the same as him.
Emma wished to keep him secret. He didn’t know she was the Princess, as he seemed to have lived in the woods since childhood and she wanted to keep it as such. She wanted to keep the pressure away from their budding romance. For that’s what it was. From blushing cheeks to tangled hair. To stained riding pants. To-
“I think you should skip to the next paragraph, lad.” Killian insisted as he scratched behind his ear.
“Why? What does this mean?”
“It just means that Emma and Graham became boyfriend and girlfriend.” He screamed internally as he wished he didn’t have to have this conversation with his boss’ son.
He didn’t have to look at Emma to see her blushed cheeks and embarrassment.
“Oohh!” Henry’s expression would have made him laugh if he wasn’t so focusedly hoping that the subject be put to rest. “I understand.”
He really hoped for this not to get back to Regina. She’d kill him faster than one can say ‘fireball’.
Their secret courtship turned into love. Her books were filled with dried flowers, one for every encounter. I was the only one who knew of their relationship. Despite her trust in her mother, Emma knew how difficult it would be to bring Graham into this life, keeping the Queen in the dark was the only way to assure the ease in their romance.
However, every good thing must come to an end.
The threat becomes more dangerous. The dark magic encroaches them. There is no other solution. The fairies’ light magic isn’t strong enough. Emma wants to help, as she did before.
Once, when the Princess was no older than 11 years old, Prince James invaded the kingdom. A Prince from a kingdom led to poverty by its careless royalty. A Prince who wasted his years fighting battles that did not involve his kingdom and spending its money. Until his father died and there was no kingdom left to rule - its people either migrated or dead. A Prince who was the Prince Consort’s twin, since the King had wanted a child and took one of the shepherd’s wife’s twins, a mother who only wished the best for her children. A mother who accepted the deal to make sure her babies did not succumb to illness.
Prince James invaded the kingdom claiming injustice for the way his twin brother’s life had progressed while he rotted away in misery. It should have been a quick matter to resolve had it not been the dragon whose wrath James had unleashed on the kingdom. The dragon had wreaked havoc in the kingdom and as everyone watched, threatened to burn the royal family to a crisp had it not been for the burst of magic that saved them.
No one knew exactly what happened, but the ones who saw remember seeing a bright white light coming from the Princess making her resemble a wide winged bird - a swan. The dragon was quick to escape as the wave of magic because there was no other name for it, incapacitated Prince James and his crew. Everyone clamored Emma’s bravery and songs were written and played in the streets.
However, despite their efforts that seemed to be the only magical experience the Princess would experience. Nothing the fairies did seemed to bring forth another hint or spark from the young girl. Songs were corrected and Emma’s magical achievements were seen as a simple blessing, a power born from her parent’s true love that protected the family. They called her the Swan Princess - not only for the circumstance of her magic, but also for the fact that under her beauty hid a vicious bravery.
To say that Emma had been disappointed over her magical failure was an understatement. But so much like her family, she chose not to give up and dedicate herself to learning sword fighting from the soldiers, something she could actually grasp.
And now, just as before, Emma wants to help. She offers to join the soldiers, defend her home and her people. Unfortunately, that is not what her parents have in mind. “We can’t risk losing you, Emma”, They said. “We need a powerful alliance.” And Emma was smart enough to understand what they meant even before they confessed their plans.
An arranged marriage. Something she had been assured all her life wouldn’t happen. The tears that fall down her face are unconscious as she begs her parents for a different solution. She speaks to them, for the first time, of how her heart belongs to another even though his name is never even whispered. But Emma knows. This is her parent’s plan, the only solution that will keep her and the kingdom safe. So she accepts, even as her heart breaks.
I try to console her tears that night, to no avail.
The arranged marriage would be to the Kingdom’s closest neighbor. A Kingdom whose King owns the strongest army. A Kingdom whose King has fathered only one son, close to Emma’s age. Give or take a couple of years. There isn’t much to say about Prince Baelfire. King Rumplestilskin shelters him from everyone, practically confined to the castle. His mother escaping a life of such imprisonment, according to rumors, by joining a band of pirates. The young man is said to be a fairly nice Prince, educated and capable.
This union would entail a merging of Kingdoms. Such creation would result in the strongest Kingdom in existence. A merging that still required more planning, were not for the desperation of Queen Snow and Prince David for Misthaven.
But Emma’s stubbornness is unrivaled. Her room is vacant the next morning when I arrive to wake her up. Nothing, but a letter. A letter explaining that she will be leaving in search of another solution. That her heart is not ready to forget her love. That despite the love she has for her kingdom, she doesn’t wish to marry someone she doesn’t love. But she promises to return, after she finds a solution or once she realizes her journey is fruitless.
At the breakfast table, the Queen, her Prince and the Princeling await the arrival of the heiress. They receive me and the letter. Their expressions are full of pain and the whole castle is sent to a frenzy as they prepare an expedition to find her.
As a handmaiden, I am given no task except to wait for my charge. But I know I must attempt to find her. She is my Princess, but most of all, a friend, the only one I’ve ever had. The journey to that place in the woods isn’t familiar, but it takes merely a blink of an eye. But the camp is empty. The Huntsman has left - not in search of a new home but, I suspectbecause a stubbornly determined Princess has asked for his help in her quest.
The Princess has always been more than capable to defend for herself, that is without doubt. She who survives a dragon, can survive much worse. But I worry. And such worry is blinding when it comes to the ones you love.
Killian pretends not to notice Emma’s quiet sniff.
The Blue Fairy was known by all of Misthaven. If there was ever a blue star in the sky, children were told to wish upon it for she would grant their wishes if they were pure of heart. A child’s story for centuries, she seemed to be on familiar terms with the royal family.
The Blue Fairy was, once, Misthaven’s savior. When Queen Snow was but a runaway Princess, she was the one who helped her regain her throne. Regardless of her lack of involvement now, I was sure she would still be eager to help. My worry grew when Emma hadn’t gone to her first.
Under the shade of a willow tree, I called for her. My heart was put to the test but it seemed to be pure enough. Her voice called my name and there she was, in front of me. She was the size of a human, not as small as an acorn as my mother had told. It didn’t matter, in the end. I urged for her help, to bring back my Princess safe and sound.
Her magic was a light blue and it felt cool to the touch. I saw as she surrounded herself with magic and then sigh in disappointment as it got warmer once more. She said that my wish was a wish she couldn’t fulfill, for my Princess was no longer safe and sound. “Emma is no longer in our plane, I’m afraid she has been taken from us.” She explained and I attempted to fight my tears.
His hand reaches for hers, subconsciously. The cold feeling extends to his whole hand as he sees Emma do the same. There was no feeling of her hand in his, but there was something.
I begged for another wish. I wished for a way to save Emma. A way to bring her back to the people who loved her. My vision was filled with blue and I was able to feel the coolness of the Blue Fairy’s magic. I felt no different. “Your wish was granted. I have given you all I can to realize your heart’s desire.” It wasn’t much of an explanation.
Magic, she said, was as hard to explain as it was to understand. Their magic came from a higher entity, a Sorcerer. A powerful being capable of seeing the future. She couldn’t bring Emma back as it was far beyond her capabilities, but she had granted my wish, given me a tool that would help. I saw her when a blur of yellow caught my attention. She was sitting closer to the branches as if she had been there since I had arrived, but that wasn’t possible. I hadn't seen her.
There was an odd expression in the Blue Fairy’s face when I asked about her. Though I received no explanation except for an expression of grief in her face, I was told as to what gift I had been given. A capacity to see those who are no longer in the plane of the living.
"How will I be able to bring her back with this?" I asked, feeling as if the Fairy's help hadn't been so helpful. "This gift will help you save the Princess." Cryptic as all magic is. I tried not to feel frustrated as I exited the willow tree. When I reached the Huntsman's camp, I saw him.
I was angry and I snapped as I could only think he had left Emma alone. He simply looked at me with surprise. Surprised, I learned, that I was able to see him. He told me how he had attempted to beg for help from anyone whose path he'd crossed, but no one seemed to see him.
He was dead.
"He was dead."
That was the only explanation. As cryptic as magic was, it seemed to work. I wasted no time asking for Emma's whereabouts. He told me that he had been killed at the neighboring Kingdom's castle when Emma and he had requested an urgent meeting with the King.
The shrill sound of a phone startled them all. Henry took a breath as he saw the name on his phone's screen.
"It's my mother." One look at the clock and he winced. "I was supposed to be in her office ten minutes ago."
"Go, lad, we'll stay here." Killian reassured the curious boy as he glanced at Emma's expression, an expression of grief that clawed at his heart.
"I'll be back." In a rush that none of the other adults could muster, he exited the library.
"Are you alright, Emma?" He gave her a moment in the silence, hoping her whirling thoughts had the chance to calm.
"I can't believe I would forget all of this. I would forget falling in love, the love of my family."
"It isn't your fault, there is clearly something else at work here."
When she looked into his eyes, his heart broke. There was pain, grief, anger. "I remember what happened, I remember why Graham died. I know who did this."
300 years earlier
His hand in hers gave her strength, strength she wasn't sure she felt. Emma needed this mission to be successful, she didn't intend to spend her life attached to someone she didn't love, burdened by duties that she never thought she had to fulfill. Her heart was still set on saving her kingdom and she would, if there was no other way, but she needed to try first.
The halls of the castle were cold, quiet and dark. There was a prickling under her skin at every step, as if she was being watched, pursued. There was an eagerness in the dark corners of the room, eager to pull you in, drag you. The great hall wasn't better - still as cold, quiet and dark as the rest of the castle. And the man sitting on the large throne was the epitome of darkness.
He wore a wide, almost mad, smile, his eyes expectant. She felt like a prey. Graham's hand was no longer wrapped in hers, but she still felt his strong presence. She had a hunter on her side, it would all work out.
Next to his father's throne, sat a young man, close to her age. Give or take a year. Prince Baelfire, of course. A curious man, he was. The darkness didn't seem to reach him but entrap him. He seemed fragile - not by choice.
“Welcome to Aur, your Highness.”
As she was taught, Emma bowed. And so did Graham, playing the part of her escort. She saw the Prince bow to her from the corner of her eye and ignored his father’s admonishing gesture in response.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit in this early morning?”
Emma swallowed at the predatorial look in his eyes. It didn’t help that there was no one else in the room but the four of them. She could sense Graham’s discomfort matching hers.
“I’ve come to discuss the agreement you have made with my parents.” She attempted to keep her voice determined, brave - all she knew she was despite the threatening aura of the room.
“Yes, Prince Baelfire and I are looking forward to this union.”
“That’s what I wanted to discuss, your Majesty. You see, I don’t wish to marry your son if there is another alternative.” She held her breath as the royal looked at her, analytical. Emma sees Prince Baelfire await his father’s judgment - no disappointment, no joy, merely expectant with a hint of fear.
“It doesn’t seem to be your decision, is it, Princess? Your parents, as rulers of the Kingdom, have blessed this union, therefore there is no other choice.”
“I understand that it was their decision, but I am here hoping to reach another solution. The merging of our two Kingdoms won’t be easy and it might lead to complications with lineage.” As she speaks, she realizes just how complicated this deal is.
“I have no intention in merging our Kingdoms, Your Highness, so there will be no complications.” King Rumplestilskin’s smile turns wider, his eyes glinting with excitement. Prince Baelfire lowers his head at his words. Graham takes a step closer to her.
“What do you mean?” Emma was confused. There was a feeling deep in her gut that told her to run - her stubbornness was unrivaled. “My parent-”
“Your parents made a deal with me. I would help them with their threat in exchange for you marrying my son.” His giggle was manic and caused shivers down Emma’s spine. “They were so desperate, poor things, that they didn’t question my intentions.”
“And what are your intentions?”
“To take over Misthaven, of course. You’ll marry my son ensuring lineage and after your parents mysteriously pass away, I will be free to reign Misthaven as I see fit.”
“And what makes you think I will let that happen?” There was a scowl in Emma’s face as she balls her fists.
“There is nothing you can do about it, dearie.” Rumplestilskin rises from his chair, a far more threatening presence than she expected. “You underestimate my power.” He makes his way slowly to her. “Who do you think has been terrorizing Misthaven in order to make this happen?”
“It was you…” She whispered, reluctantly surprised. “But how? You don’t have magic. Especially not magic as dark as that.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” Emma tried not to feel like a caged animal as he began walking in a circle around her. “But I made a friend, a friend who does indeed wield such magic. A friend whose plans match mine.”
“You won’t get away with this, I promise you that.”
Her threat lost its power at the King’s loud laugh. He seemed relaxed as if she posed no danger to his plan. And she believed it, it made her feel small. She wasn’t accustomed to being made to feel small.
“There is nothing you can do, dearie.”
With a snap of his fingers, dark tendrils wrapped around the two visitors. While her restraints seemed focused on her wrists, Rumplestilskin had Graham by the neck. As strong as he was trying to be, he was no match for such powerful magic.
“Please, he has nothing to do with this, just let him go!” Emma kept her eyes on the King’s hoping he wouldn’t see exactly how much it hurt to see Graham suffer as he was.
But she couldn’t help it.
She could pinpoint the moment he noticed, the way his smile widened and his tongue ran through his teeth - like a crocodile preparing to eat his prey. Her heart hammered against her chest praying to every entity she knew for their safety.
But no one was listening.
There was a crack and a heavy body falling to the ground. Her heart stopped. Her future destroyed in a second. The love of her life gone. There was no stopping the distraught cry that exploded out of her.
She didn’t notice how she had freed herself until she had her arms around Graham’s lifeless body. Her tears had landed on his unmoving face. And there was silence around her. She saw the King’s unconscious form laying on the floor as well as the absence of dark magic. A burst of magic, it seemed, to save her.
Unfortunately, not to save her from heartbreak, as she continued to hold a dead Graham in her arms. Her hands caressed his face and she felt it growing cold under her touch. She wished, more than anything, to have him open his eyes, to have him smile at her one more time.
“Princess?” A too small voice from a young man startled her and she raised one hand, hoping for another burst of magic to save her - but there was nothing, not even a spark.
Thankfully, she knew where her Huntsman kept his dagger and she quickly wielded it. She kept herself embracing him, however, one hand on his face.
“Take one more step and you’ll regret it.” Her voice was shaky but her determined stare wasn’t.
To her surprise, the dagger pointed at him doesn’t seem to frighten Prince Baelfire. He approaches with his hands raised to his chest until he stops a step away from her.
“I’m sorry.” He sounds honest in his whispered words as he looks into her eyes.
Emma lets out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding and her whole being deflates as even the dagger falls to the floor. She turns back to the man laying on her lap, her hand cupping his cheek.
“If you must kill me, do so now. Your father won’t have my Kingdom.” Her voice is small, not usual for her.
“I have no intentions of killing you or of marrying you.”
That calls her attention and she looks back to the Prince.
“I simply do as my father wishes, he’s a powerful man.” He sighs as he kneels in front of her. “I have been carrying this for years.” Her eyes watch him closely as he removes a small vial from his coat pocket. “And I think it’s supposed to help you.”
“What is that?” She is wary, nothing good should come from such a dark liquid.
“I’m not quite sure, I was never fond of magic. I found it in the library. It had a note.” He removes a small paper from the same pocket which he gives to her.
She will need this.
“Who is ‘she’?”
“I don’t know. There isn’t anyone I know who would need this but you. My father won’t give up. This is all I can do to help.” He extends the vial to her.
“How do I know you speak the truth?” She took the vial even as she kept her eyes on him.
“I don’t know. But I am.” The Prince shrugged his shoulders as he returned the eye contact. She had always been able to tell when someone was lying to her. He was telling the truth.
Both turned when they heard a groan from their right. Rumplestilskin was regaining consciousness. She needed to act fast.
“Thank you.” She quickly said to the Prince as she removed the cork from the vial.
There was no time for second thoughts. It was trusting a mysterious vial with an even more mysterious message or seeing her Kingdom conquered by this villain.
With a deep breath and a final look to her hunter, she drank the strange liquid to the last drop.
Everything went black.
Now
“The potion killed you, then.” Killian didn’t know what to think, it had been a strange story. He wasn’t sure whether he’d like to hug Emma or punch someone who had probably been dead for centuries.
“I don’t think so… Remember the garden?” Killian nodded. “No other ghost has been there, I don’t think I was dead.”
“Aye, I just-” Killian interrupts himself when he turns to her. There is the wet streak of a tear on her cheek. “I’m sorry, love, I’m sorry about Graham.” His hand inches closer to hers.
“That’s alright, I remembered…”
The door opens suddenly for Henry to run inside.
“My mum is going for a meeting so I still have an hou- is everything alright?” Henry asks as he looks at Killian’s expression. The small lamp on his desk flickers on and off slowly. “Emma?”
His call seems to catch her attention. She turns to him with a small smile.
“I’m alright.” The lamp stops flickering.
“Everything’s alright, lad.” His smile is reassuring and Henry seems to deflate as he feels a more calm environment.
Wanting to give Emma a few moments to rearrange her thoughts, Killian busies himself giving Henry a resumed version of what Emma had told him.
“So that Baelfire turned her into a ghost!”
“Actually, the potion did.”
“Someone must have given that to him, someone who knew what was going to happen!” Killian swore he could see the cogs in Henry’s brain turn.
“Perhaps we’ll get some answers if we carry on reading.” Emma’s voice seemed back to normal, quieter but more herself. Looking into her eyes, she nodded.
“Aye, we should keep reading, lad.”
“Right!” Henry quickly ran to the book that had remained open on the desk.
Graham told me what happened. How the King-
“Okay, she’s saying what we know, I’m just going to skip.” Henry interrupted.
After he passed away, there was too much. Too much confusion, too many sounds, too many colors. Once he was able to concentrate on his whereabouts, all he saw was Emma laid on the floor next to him as Rumplestiltskin paced angry. Prince Baelfire seemed to be telling him how Emma had killed herself out of grief. How she had taken a potion, a poison he assumed, how he had been unable to stop her.
“He’s protecting you.” Henry seemed surprised by the revelation.
“He didn’t seem to be as bad as his father.” Emma admitted.
“Aye, the lad had courage.”
Unfortunately, there was nothing else I could do. I couldn’t go to the castle to retrieve the Princess nor could I tell the Queen where she was. While magic is common, talking to the deceased did not seem to be something that would be celebrated.
“Right you are.” Killian whispered. Henry turned to him followed by Emma, making him blush. He cleared his throat. “Carry on, lad.”
It was hard to see how distraught the Royal Family was about the Princess’ disappearance. The castle seemed too quiet at times and her room even emptier. But it didn’t take long to receive news. Prince Baelfire arrived at court with Emma’s body carried by a fleet of guards.
The tall ceilings of the hall echoed the Queen’s cry of anguish as she saw her only daughter’s lifeless body. The Prince with a wall of bravery behind his heartbreak, commanded the servants to take Emma to another room. Everyone was dismissed. As the last to leave, I saw as the Prince attempted to comfort his wife, even as he cried with her.
Prince Baelfire was quick to leave the castle. I, however, couldn’t stay far from my Princess. I followed the procession as they took Emma to a guest room. I entered as they did, but did not leave as they did. I touched her hand, it wasn’t cold, it was rigid, it was as if she was sleeping. Graham stood by my side, a mournful expression in his eyes as he kneeled at her bedside. I pretended not to see his sadness as he attempted to hold her hand.
“Do you want me to continue? I know this can’t be easy…” Henry interrupted, looking to where he felt Emma’s presence.
“We need to know what happens next.” Emma’s voice was determined even as she wiped a fresh tear from her cheek. Hearing her parent’s pain wasn’t easy. She then turned to Killian with a nod. “I’m alright.”
Henry turned to him when he didn’t say anything, but Killian couldn’t take his eyes off Emma’s, hoping he was able to give her some reassurance. Finally, he nodded.
“She is not dead.” The Blue Fairy watched from the end of the bed. She startled me. I had never known her to be able to appear wherever she wished. Regardless, it was reassurance. She wasn’t dead. “I was told that I needed to come to this room at this time, now I see why.” Cryptic.
With a wave of her hand over Emma’s body and a familiar spark of cold, blue magic, she seemed to have her answer. “She is asleep. A cursed sleep.” She said. The half-answers and enigmatic posture were maddening. And I said so. “She will remain asleep until someone breaks her curse.” I turned to look at Graham, but he hadn’t moved, he seemed unwilling to care about anything else but the sleeping Princess. He was dead, unable to be with her again.
“Oh, Graham…” Emma whispered.
I was determined to break the curse. Not only to spare her parents the heartache, but also because I needed her back. “You mustn’t wake her up now.” The Blue Fairy told us. I was angry, why should Emma be suffering when we can help her? “Rumplestilskin believes her dead, his plan has been stopped. Wake her now and we’d be doomed.”
“She knew Rumplestilskin’s plan?!” Killian’s fist was balled against the table as he attempted to hold back his anger.
She knew his plan, even though no one had told her! “The Sorcerer knows all, Alice Jones. He’s seen this and more and we are to follow his plan.” His plan to destroy a family? To take their daughter from her? “Yes. All is as it should be.” I cursed. I never cursed anyone before. But I did now. “I understand your frustration, but all is as it should be.” She repeated, with an infuriating calm.
The feeling of inadequacy was like a fireball in my chest. But as angry as I was, the Blue Fairy was right, Emma was safe while she was asleep. What was I to do next? “I will place a preservation spell on her body, you will urge her parents not to bury her for it will surely kill her.” Before I could say anything else, she was gone.
Bloody fairies.
Bloody fairies. As helpful as she was, the hardest part was my chore. I left Graham to his vigil. I only returned the next day, her parents having had some time to compose themselves. But still I saw the lack of light in the Queen’s eyes and the slumped shoulders in the Prince’s posture - for a stranger, they would look the image of collectedness but not for me.
It was easier than I thought to convince them not to bury Emma. I was never fond of lying but saying that the Blue Fairy had blessed Emma’s form to withstand the course of time was nothing more than a half-truth. In a matter of days, a glass coffin was produced to hold the Princess. It was placed in the family’s mausoleum and everyday for years, the royal couple would place fresh flowers, usually accompanied by the young Prince.
The story was kept quiet. Both to ensure the Kingdom’s trust in their leaders’ safety but also to prevent any conflict between the two Kingdom’s involved. King Rumplestilskin remained quiet, his plan had failed. The dark magic surrounding the Kingdom was unable to get in. Even with Emma gone, there was too much light to let in the darkness.
His failure drove him to madness, pushing the darkness as far as it could. Until, decades after, he was killed with a dagger through his heart. A culprit was never found and the Kingdom, as fragile as it was, accepted the new King without protest. King Baelfire would do great things. Both Kingdoms fell into peace once more.
Life had returned to normal after Emma’s presumed death. Even as the country mourned, they celebrated Prince Leopold’s milestones.
Despite mine and the family’s desire to keep working with them, they had no need for me, not with the Princess gone. But, a year or so later, I was married. This might not seem important to you, but I discovered something. I welcomed a son soon after. A son who would grow up, as children do and would talk to entities no one else could see but me. The Blue Fairy’s gift was passed down. I was able to witness a granddaughter with the same gift.
We kept it secret, as well we could. I attempted to share this story with my kin, but I see now my time is short so I’m hoping that writing it will preserve it in its most perfect state. I understand now that I am not the one supposed to save Emma. But I hope that one of my own blood will.
I saw her, long after Rumplestilskin was killed, after her parents passed away - one not far from the other -. She was as if no day had passed her by, still in the clothes she wore when she fell asleep. She did not recognise me, but she was the one who found me. She did not recognise me because she did not remember who she was. All she knew was her name.
Emma.
You, who reads this book, my kin, I hope your heart remains true. For that is the only way to save her. Please, save her.
“Wow…” Henry breathed.
“Indeed.” Killian sat on his desk feeling his shoulders tight.
“I’m sorry.” Emma spoke softly, catching his attention.
“What do you mean? Why are you apologizing?”
“This was never supposed to be your burden.” Emma looked at him, her eyes a mix of apology and determination. “The only one who’s supposed to save me is me.”
“This isn’t a burden, Emma. I’ve spent years helping people like you. Apparently, generations. This is my mission and I’m gladly doing it for you too.” His smile was reassuring and he hoped that he wasn’t showing too much.
She doesn’t seem to notice as she looks down with a hint of pink in her cheeks. “Thank you, Killian, for helping me.” Her smile when she looks back at him sets his heart hammering against his chest.
Henry’s attempt at being quiet is louder than he seems to want as it breaks their moment. His cheeks are red and he tries to hide his satisfied smile.
“There’s nothing else in the book?” Killian asks, clearing his throat, hoping to get the attention off their small moment. “There seems to be some writing on that side.”
“Oh!” Henry’s brow furrows as he stares at the strange writing. Emma, he sees, has moved back to standing next to the boy. “I can’t read it.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s in a weird language, even weirder than what I just read.”
“Hmm, strange.”
The library door is opened once more, the sound catching their attention.
“Henry?” Principal Mills calls from the door as she looks around for her son.
“It’s time to go already?” Killian can hear the pout in the boy’s voice and knows it’s there when Emma shows that soft smile that, he learns, is reserved for Henry.
“Yes, I’m done with the meeting. Come on, you have homework to do.” There is a smile on the Principal’s face too, it seems involuntary when Henry is involved.
“Fine.” He huffs as he rushes to put his backpack on. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Jones.”
Killian nods with a grin. “Master Mills.”
“Mr. Jones.” Regina dismisses him with barely a look. As Henry reaches her, she places her arm around his shoulders and kisses his forehead.
“You may think she’s scary, but Henry knows how to soften her.” Emma quipped as the door shut behind the mother and child.
“The lad has abilities that we don’t know half of.” Killian winks.
After such a heavy afternoon, it seems odd to be in silence. There is much he wants to say but doesn’t know how to start or if he should. He shouldn’t.
“Would you like to watch a film tonight?” Killian asks quickly.
She seems to startle but relaxes almost as quickly. “In the box that has the people inside?”
“The people aren’t exactly ins- Nevermind,” He laughs. “Aye, in the box.”
“I would love to.”
The headiness her smile causes chases him out of the door. They keep silent. There is no need for anything to be said. Nothing needed to change the quiet, light mood between them.
Of course, their plans are meant to be ruined. A short blonde woman carrying a bright pendant stops in front of them, stopping their walk. She looks at him with curious eyes.
“Are you Killian Jones?” She asks, igniting his curiosity.
“I am, who is asking?”
“The Blue Fairy wishes to speak with you.”
#cssns#cssns22#captainswan#killian jones#emma swan#captain hook#henry mills#ghosts#cssns 2022#cs fic#cs fanfic#cs ff au#ouat ff#cs ff#carolina writes
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Mercenary for hire chapter 16- part 2
While I’m posting My as well come with the next part, this only have 2 part didn’t see it fit to have 3
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He stepped out of the guild where his teacher and master awaited him with arms crossed, the heavy cling of the clothe he now worn sound with each step, he looked up at his master’s violet eyes whom look back at him with a email
“Good job Wrightstone”
Killian looked over his hand still not believing he was able to pass his chivalry test this time, thinking back at how stupid he must’ve been back when he was a teen, or just how damaged he must have been not to care about anyone for himself.
“Thanks…” Killian replied in awe, as he brought his hand up into a fist not yet.. But a little closer. He felt the hand of his tutor hook his neck and he almost fell over.
“Alright let's celebrate!” Allen cheered, and Killian managed to get away. It had become a habit of his teacher to hook him up like that. He tried to fix his hair as he pulled back, he had listened to his teacher’s wife and gotten it cute, and away from his silver eyes. He didn't’ have a way to covered his scared face, but Lily had said his eyes where his best featured.
“Don’t go overboard, I still have a long way to go”
Allen huffed, and crossed his arms above his chest “ You really can’t be thinking of taking off to become a Lord Knight so soon, what’s the rush?” Allen brow raise and Killian silver eyes looked up at the sky where the sun shine bright
“The sun doesn’t wait for no one, so I got to move”
Allen chuckled, he didn’t know why but the man had been making way too many references to the sun in the last couple weeks.
“Alright then, let's get back to the training ground , I’d like to reach out to my mentor so we can get you settle”
◘
Kyrius was prompt up on her desk at her Prontera home, while going over some of her most recently acquired books, the mage guild had sent her a request for translation and she wasn’t thrilled about it. It wasn’t because she hated the job, she welcomed any request that was made of her from any guild, but this one was written in a language that was hard for her to grasp.
She tried to reach out to some of her friends to help, but they were all occupied with other matters. She played with the plume on her finger as she paid a little too much time to specific runes she couldn’t make out. A cup of tea was place on the side of the desk and she looked up to find her familiar
“You needn't lose yourself in work, you have bags under your eyes” Kyrius looked into his crimson eyes and saw worry in them. Before she grabbed a compact mirror she kept it on her desk. “You needn't lie to get me to stop working” she restored as she put the compact down. The incubus almost but growled at her reposed, he was a little over protective of her at times
“I know you’re just worried , But I’m okay. My head’s been all over the place lately and I am having a hard time concentrating.. Can you send a word to my mother? I'll be needing access to the castle library.. There is just a couple Runes I can’t seem to recognize”
Chase nodded and with a swift motion he disappeared into the shadows. She knew her incubus would reach her mother faster than any courier she sent their way, which meant she would have access by this afternoon at the latest. Kyrius made sure she gathered what she needed and ready herself. Her hair was prompted up in a ponytail with strands of braids that were tight from the front to the back and her usual braided crown across her head.
She made it to the castle. She wanted to finish this job as soon as she could, part of her didn’t mind it, but another part of her wanted to leave and go somewhere, where she didn’t have the constant reminder, the constant looming desire to go find him. To show up at the mercenary’s guild and ask for him. He’d been gone since that day, and no one had heard from him. At least no at the guild
Within no less than an hour she got word back from her incubus, her mother was at the library for once, which was actually perfect for what she needed to confirm. So Kyrius made her way to the castle and once there she walked through the halls and into the double doors that lead to the Castle library.
“Hello Ms Keeper” one of the guards greeted, she greeted back.
“I’m here to see my mother” The guard looked at the woman up and down, the glimmer on his eyes evidently. She was used to those stares, they had scared her once, they had made her feel like an odd creature, made her retreat into a shell before. But she grew into those looks now, she grew used to the eyes that wondered her figure those who always saw her for the beautiful thing she was, and not the warlock in front of them.
“My mother?” she asked again and the guard had to cough himself into reality.
“Oh right, Ms Lily is at the training guard, Sir Allen mentioned something about a celebration”
Kyrius tilted her head to the side and blinked in surprise. She was used to her mother waiting for her to arrive, but if her father had called her out. Knowing how close her parents were, she knew her mother would pick him over all. Kyrius chuckled, a love like the one her parents shared was something to cherish after all.
“Alright I’ll go meet them”
Kyrius roamed the halls looking for her parents who somehow were more difficult to find than a needle on a haystack. “Where could they be?'' she looked around with books in hand before she heard the loud laugh of no one but her father “alright! Follow the sound!” she grinned remembering a game they played as children where her father always lost because of his laughter. She reached the veranda and looked down to see if she could spot her targets, soon enough the lilac color of her mother’s hair caught her attention.
“Bingo!” she cheered with a smile. But the smile on her face halted, when her lips parted as if she couldn’t believe what she saw. Standing there, between her parents. Face as serious as it could be, dark rich skin and eyes, as silver as the full moon at the top of a night sky. The books she held in her hand were almost instantly discarded as they fell to the floor because of her shock. Her legs moved on their own, and she ran. Why are you here?” she asked herself internally as she frantically tried to find a way down to them, to him.
#Kyrius Keeper#kyrius#killian#Killian wrightstone#killius#carmasi#oc stuff#ragnarok online#ragnarok stories
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Tell me more about Moon Knight! (Which I shall HAPPILY take the blame for!)
Killian groaned and opened his eyes in the bright sun. His head hurt and he was sore in odd places. Shining mahogany warmed by the sun showed him his reflection, except the reflection was glaring angrily back at him. Something moved and he lifted his head to see who was staring at him.
For a moment he thought it was a dream, a gorgeous blonde dream. Her red lips curled into a smirk. “Little far from home, aren’t you, sailor?”
~~~~~~
Nerdy Killian is having trouble sleeping. Only he finds out that he has the soul of bloody mercenary Captain Hook inside him thanks to the mystery compass he found in the museum artifacts. Now chased by a mysterious group of knights (Camelot), being yelled at by an angry pirate all night, and nearly killed by a sorceress Emma can he save the world?
The whole surprise wife and “When I have a girlfriend, can’t be bringing her back to the flat with ankle restraints” comment needed some further exploration. 😈
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ROs
The Tavern Worker
Killian / Kas / Kali ( he/him - they/them - she/her) 22
( !| Protective / Friendly / Judgmental / Impulsive)
K has been working for The Frozen Siren for as long as they can remember. Dealing with people and difficult situations comes easy as breathing to K. They’re not known to watch idly as someone gets tormented, and seem to worm their way into less than ideal situations just to be that shining knight they aspire to be. K may be the most friendly face you’ll see in Downtown Lostgrove amid the swarm of criminals and pirates that lurk in the area. Despite being sweet and helpful, no one is without their vices, and that doesn’t exclude K - they’re human after all. K takes unnecessary risk and is quite quick to judge before fully accessing the situation - for someone living in Downtown Lostgrove, those very two things can mean your death.
K has shoulder-length light blue hair that is usually tied up into a ponytail when they're working, any other time their messy curls are sprawled across their back. Their eyes are close to an amber shade , while their skin tone is ivory. They stand at 5’9 and have an athletic build. Who else is going to intimidate the drunk and throw them out when they get too rowdy? K dresses in less constricting clothes but still likes to look nice; they like to wear blouses with frills and formal pants - which is basically their work clothes.
The Librarian
Morgan (he/him) 23
( !| Intelligent / Observant / Know - It - All / Workaholic )
Morgan has taken over the position of Librarian from his grandfather, and takes pride in his work. Aside from working in the library, he tutors the oldest child in the house. Morgan isn’t the most sociable person in the house, and is known for locking himself away in the library - but he isn’t a horrible person. He works extremely well with the other workers in the house; the only problem is that he can come off as extremely arrogant and aggressive to people he isn’t quite used to. It’s very hard getting close to him too; he doesn’t make anything easy and one slip up will lead you right back to where you started with him. Another vital thing is Morgan doesn’t trust mages; his hatred is anything but silent and he makes it known with the new addition of hands around the house, this hatred runs deep and roots from his childhood.
Morgan has ash blonde that stops at the back of his neck; it’s always styled neatly. His eyes are a blue-green color and he has eye bags from the all-nighters he pulls. His skin tone is warm beige. Morgan stands at 5’5 and has a lanky build; he thinks it's impossible for him to get any sort of muscle - he kind of hates it too. His clothing of choice is a formal blouse and vest; he has many many frilly shirts and vest in his wardrobe; he long black pants, but every once in a while he doesn’t mind wearing shorts
The Maid
Ophelia (she/her) 21
(!| Extroverted / Bold / Stubborn / Rowdy)
Ophelia is the youngest maid in the house of Kurr; she’s quite the free spirited young woman. She brings a new breath of fresh air to the normally gloomy house, the lighthouse, among the fog. Despite being very extroverted, she can be quite snippy with anyone other than her employers, and getting in an argument with her isn’t ideal - she can drag it on for a while. she’ll never settle until her point gets across. This rowdy maid is also known quite well in Downtown Lostgrove for performing at different taverns - she’s quite skilled at singing, not only singing but also bar fights - it's all quite fun, though she’s not entirely sure getting denied entrance to The Frozen Siren isn’t as funny as it was a month ago…
Ophelia has long peach hair reaching down her back , she tends to tie it up in twintails if it gets a little too much to deal with when working. Her eyes are orange, while her skin is a warm ivory tone that’s decorated with freckles just about her entire body. Ophelia stands at 5’2 and has an hourglass figure. Her clothes consist of her uniform that’s literally just a maid dress, but on her days off she’s seen roaming in simple sundresses.
The Friend
Vilda ( they/them) ???
(!| Easy going / Charming / Lazy / Manipulative)
Vilda is a very famous mage who was formally known for working at the clock tower and then aiding in the war; they’re well respected in Rosenward. When people think about Vilda, it sounds as if they’re talking about someone with high status and power, well, they’d be right. Vilda to the public and your Vilda are two different things; your Vilda is known for cracking absolutely horrible jokes and doing just about anything to get out of a task they don’t deem interesting. Public Vilda seems cold and distant, nothing like they are when they are with you. You wonder which one is the true one?
Vilda has long blonde hair that reaches the small of their back; it’s never styled and falls into place without needing much taming. Their eyes are a dark brown, while their skin is a warm ivory tone. Vilda stands at 6ft and has a slender build. For fashion they don’t think too much about it, but they are very fond of trench coats.
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Merlin Masterlist;
Mostly Gwaine stuff or Merlin/ouat crossovers.
⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️
Edits;
Merlin in the modern day Moodboards Part 1;
Summary; Merlin reincarnation fic with a twist.
Merlin in the modern day Moodboards Part 2;
Summary; Merlin reincarnation fic with a twist.
Merlin in the modern day Moodboards part 3;
Summary; Merlin reincarnation fic with a twist.
Merlin in the modern day Moodboards part 4;
Summary; Merlin reincarnation fic with a twist.
Perwaine kids moodboards;
Summary; moodboards for Perwaine's kids.
Gwaine area 51;
Summary; an edit I requested that @cursedmerlinedits made. Check them and @men-in-knights and @bbcdumbsterfire out. They're blogs are awesome.
The Jones Siblings edits part 1;
Summary; Fanon Gwaine Family edits.
The Jones Siblings edits part 2;
Summary; Fanon Gwaine Family edits.
Perwaine family;
Summary; Percival and Gwaine's family.
Perwaine children;
Summary; what the title says.
Perwaine pets;
Summary; what the title says.
Perwaine, Madhook, and Zeliam vehicles;
Summary; 3 of my top ships' vehicles for a fanfiction I'm writing.
Aroace Sir Leon edit;
Summary; what the title says.
Lists/theories;
Things Gwaine has definitely done post reincarnation/rising;
Summary; what the title says.
Gwaine Moments/quotes reblog;
Summary; what the title says. Reblogged from @gwaine-lover .
My least favorite things about merlin;
Summary; what the title says.
My Merlin Fantasy;
Summary; what the title says.
Gwaine and Killian are brothers theory/headcanon explained;
Summary; why I think Hook from ouat and Sir Gwaine from merlin are related.
More proof for Gwaine and Killian being related;
Summary; why I think Hook from ouat and Sir Gwaine from merlin are related.
Realization;
Summary; me being slow and realizing something.
Questions I have about Merlin;
Summary; what the title said.
Memes;
Merlin memes;
Summary; what the title says.
Merlin Memes part 2;
Summary; what the title says.
Fanfictions;
Betrayal Is Something You Never Forget (Prologue);
Summary; In which Gwaine wasn't completely honest with Merlin about his heritage and the others all find out exactly why he hates royalty so much (can be found on wattpad here).
Betrayal Is Something You Never Forget (Part 1);
Summary; In which Gwaine wasn't completely honest with Merlin about his heritage and the others all find out exactly why he hates royalty so much.
It's time, it's time, it's time;
Summary; Merlin reincarnation au.
Gwaine and pies;
Summary; Gwaine discovers that Walmart sells 4-inch pies for $0.74. Merlin has to physically drag him from the store.
Hey sister, Do you still believe in love I wonder?:
Summary; Arthur can't help but get this nasty feeling in his chest when he sees Gwen with Elyan. He doesn't understand why at first. But soon Gwaine makes him understand it.
Rants;
Gwaine and magic;
Summary; me ranting about the travesty of Gwaine not knowing about Merlin's magic.
Random;
Bard Will:
Summary; my edition to an ask I had about Bard! Will!
Bard Will the ogs:
Summary; A post about Bard Will that I didn't make but want to read again.
About Will:
Summaey; how the knights handle the topic of Will.
The tavern excuse:
Summary: Gwaine is a little shit who just goes with the flow.
Semi-controversial Merlin opinion;
Summary; my opinion on how Merlin and Arthur's friends would be react to a magic reveal.
Arwen kids;
Summary; Arthur and Gwen's kids.
Arwen kids info part 1;
Summary; what the title says.
Arwen kids info part 2;
Summary; what the title says.
Arwen kids info part 3;
Summary; what the title says.
Perwaine kids info;
Summary; what the title says.
#merlin#merlin bbc#bbc merlin#sir gwaine centric#ouat/merlin#ouat merlin crossover#perwaine#merlin ships
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[ cú, for h.sr killian ] Once all the monsters were defeated, Cú Chulainn swung his spear once to clean the blood off it, his posture finally relaxing. A wide grin adorned his features when he turned to glance at his ally in the fight, thrilled to see that they were uninjured as well. He forgot to count how many enemies he took down, but he’ll make sure to count so they can compare and decide who ‘wins’ next time. “You were able to keep up with me! I can’t remember the last time that happened,” the young man laughed, excitement as clear as water in his ruby-like eyes. In a way, it made sense. Determination and the path of the Hunt aren’t the only things that make a Galaxy Ranger, after all.
The pair of warriors were in no state to enter a bar or restaurant, but Cú still said: “Let me buy you something to drink once we return to the city. I bet you’ve as many interesting stories to share as I.” It was the first time he crossed paths with another Galaxy Ranger, so could anyone blame him for getting excited?
“Really? …It wasn’t all that difficult for me.”
The former knight replied at his comrade’s remarks with cool detachment as remnants of levin sparks crackle over the tip of his weapon. It was an aftereffect of the fatal hit directed at one of the monsters who attempted to maul him from close distance. Fortunately, his well-trained reflexes allowed him to counter the movement almost effortlessly — blast of lightning-aspected mana cartridge fired from the gunblade shocked && burned ‘til its corpse blackened. Likewise, he was lost enough in the thrill of the battle to count how many enemies that he had personally defeated. Being somewhat distracted over splats of a monster’s blood that he had caught on his newly acquired expensive leather boots may had factored into it too — as he simply stomped with enough force over his victim's poor body to pulverize it to death, but sullied his brand new shoes with blood in return.
Similarly his now disordered appearance made him in no state to properly enter any bars for a celebratory drink, yet the blue-haired youth who fought alongside him was cordial enough to make an offer; one that he couldn’t find any reason to refuse. “Hm. I don’t mind.” In a rather fascinating twist of fate, this man was also one of the many Galaxy Rangers spread across the cosmos. How curious.
Sitting the blunt edge of his gunblade across his shoulder, he made his steps forward first to head back over the nearest settlement area. Looking back briefly, he gestured towards the youth with a flick of his head to follow his lead. “Come along then if you wish to keep up with my pace, or do you rather wish to race me to the town?” With his ever-enduring stamina still robust enough to perform a consistent sprint, he'd accept any speed endurance challenge with his own knightly pride at stake.
@caemthe
#caemthe#caemthe; cu chulainn#▶┊ sealed & signed & delivered. ( answered )#♞‧₊˚ killian. ( ic text )#UEEEE TY LIRI FOR PREFACING THIS o/#this gives me a little insight to hsr!killy hehehe#feel free to cont. this to a thread if u want!
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Dear Almos Johnson,
I can call you that freely now you are not... my knight. Oh I miss you dearly.
Princess Katherine is a kind and good woman, we are friends now. I have realized now that I was not the only one unhappy with the decision of our marriage. She seems so sad. As though she lost someone important to her long ago. Her grief does not seem as recently caused as mine for you.
Dear, I want to see you again. As days pass by I fear I will forget your face, but every night I am reminded. Some evenings when I am not forced to reside in the same chambers as my... wife I see your eyes in my in mind, and your hair and your devilish smile. And I hear your voice in my ear as if you are really beside me. You would say, what you said every night to me before I fell asleep: "I will protect you, my prince."
At first, I remember, I was opposed to you addressing me so formally, but eventually the title 'my prince', when it left your lips, became the most intimate of names. I know that I am no longer your prince and that you are not even obligated to respond to this long overdue letter, but if you do, if you still love me, if you respond to this letter, please, please Johnson, continue addressing me as such. Continue calling me your prince.
I pray for a response from you soon.
Your prince, Killian.
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Hyperparasitism
The obsession with candles always perplexed Rath. He hardly needed any light at all to see, and reading required only a scant bit more. A single candle, carried in the hand, was more than enough for his purposes.
And yet, as the fire grew and engulfed the manor around them, Rath could not help but think it was a consequence of all the damned candles. Between himself and Hathus, they had already toppled more than a few candelabras.
He supposed they would simply have to duel in the light.
Hathus was of average height. Thin. He held himself with the grace of a duelist, a far cry from his accomplice Killian’s pitiful stance. Rath thought he might actually be somewhat dangerous.
“I don’t understand,” Rath began, circling his opponent, “Killian was a fop and a fool. You’re clearly on another level from that worm, so why work alongside him?”
Hathus moved to match Rath’s pace. He kept his saber and dagger up. His face was a naked display of concentration. “He had his uses. I suppose that’s over, now that you’ve killed him.” He made a vague gesture with his dagger. “And I don’t understand you, black knight. You’re a vampire like us, why the hostility? You’re clearly strong enough to stake a claim for yourself somewhere more important than this shithole of a village.”
Rath chuckled, the hollow of his armor giving it an eerie quality. “You truly don’t understand. I’m not here to stake a claim.”
“Then why? Why slay us if not for our land?”
Rath lunged forward, bringing his longsword to bear. With a tremendous clamor, the blade connected with Hathus’ weapons. Hathus, for his part, had to cross his blades to find enough leverage to block the savage blow.
“This isn’t your land.” Rath’s voice was low and venomous. “The people of the village suffer under your delusions. I am here to relieve them of you, and then I will be on my way to the next.”
“What-”
“Everywhere I go, I see spineless little weasels like your friend Killian. I see snakes like you. Vampires who prey upon the weak.”
Hathus shoved Rath away with a grunt, backpedaling almost into a bookshelf that had caught fire. “You’re a vampire like us! No mortal can fight like that, no mortal can match an immortal’s strength!”
“Wrong on both counts,” Rath said. “You prey upon the helpless. I prey upon the predators. I hunt little snakes and, in gratitude, the innocent provide me with what I need. I do not take blood from the innocent. I only accept it.”
“Then you’re a fool.” Hathus darted forward, lashing out with a flurry of blows with both saber and dagger. One stroke after another, the blades clashed against the longsword in Rath’s hand. “You’ve turned on your own kind, and for what, the charity of the weak and the helpless?”
“No,” Rath replied. He rammed his shoulder forward, his opponent’s saber bouncing harmlessly off his armor, and caught Hathus square in the chest.
Hathus was sent sprawling, but Rath didn’t give him even a moment to recover. It was all Hathus could do to roll out of the way of Rath’s blade as it came down to where he had been a mere instant prior.
“I do not seek the charity of mortals, Hathus.” Rath appoached his opponent as Hathus clambered to his feet. “Payment exchanged for services rendered. I think it’s a fair trade. I get the blood I need to live, they have their local parasites removed.”
Hathus brought his weapons up again. He was unnerved and ill-equipped for the fight. Rath was satisfied in his prior estimation. Hathus might have been dangerous, had the fight not been stacked so efficiently against him from the beginning.
“You’ll never be one of them,” Hathus seethed, “You’ll always be like me. Whether you drink only blood given freely, you’re still drinking blood. You’re still a vampire. You’re still a parasite like us.”
“Perhaps,” Rath said, “I don’t disagree. I am a parasite. But I’m not like you.”
Rath withdrew a stake from his belt. Hathus, seeing this, rushed forward. He screamed his defiance as Rath lunged to meet him, blade against blades, and drove the stake into Hathus’ chest with one mailled hand.
Hathus tried to speak, tried to stand, but he could only lean heavily against Rath as the torpor of death overtook him. He wheezed once, words failing to form, and collapsed.
Rath regarded the rapidly clouding eyes of his opponent.
Without another thought, he cleft the head from shoulders and left the body to be consumed in the growing blaze.
Services rendered.
#rotting empire#violence#blood mention#vampires#sword fights#creative writing#it's rath#rath is the hyperparasite#the parasite that feeds on other parasites
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