#lieutenant!killian

The organ begins to play and the guests rise to their feet. Killian can feel Liam behind him, standing straight and palpably tense. He wishes he could offer his brother some reassurance but he can’t move—every particle of his focus and attention is directed at the chapel doors. When they open a bright flare of sunlight bursts through and then there is Emma, more radiant than any beam, and he catches his breath. 

Her hair is twisted into an elegant updo, and though he prefers it loose and curling around her shoulders for his fingers to tangle in he cannot deny that she is stunning, the graceful curve of neck and shoulder bare and just teased by curling tendrils. Her dress is long and flowing in the traditional style, ivory silk shot through with gold, and he would swear that every inch of her gleams. 

He swallows hard as she approaches, his heart thundering though not with nerves or even excitement. It’s closer to awe; the culmination of years of study and work and dreams, planning their life together and building its foundations, slowly, until the day it could at so long last be realised. 

(“I’d go down on one knee for this,” he said to her on the morning of the happiest day of his life so far. “I probably should, tradition and all, but people kneel to you all the time and I don’t wish to be one of them.” 

He stopped walking and turned to her, tightening his hand in hers. It was a cool day, cloudy but dry, and they were in the palace gardens where the mist lilies were just beginning to fade, making way for the late summer flowers with their richer colours. He looked down at her, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright, her posture tense with expectation and excitement. He knew her answer, had known it for years, but the question still required asking. 

“So I won’t kneel,” he continued, “but instead I stand here before you as your partner—if not precisely your equal—to tell you that I love you with everything I have in me, and that I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days at your side. Or two steps behind you, should the occasion require it.” 

She gave a bright laugh, even as a tear escaped the corner of her eye. He wiped it away with a gentle brush of his thumb, framing her face in his hand. 

 “Emma, my love,” he said softly. “Will you marry me?”) 

She arrives at his side and her father lifts her hand to his lips—Killian startles; he was so absorbed by Emma that he forgot the king was there—kisses it gently and passes it to Killian, who takes it in his own hand and kisses it in his turn. 

King David nods and makes a formal bow, and when he straightens his eyes catch Killian’s. Understanding flashes between them, and there in that moment they are not a king and his subject but a father and the man about to become his son-in-law. It’s a brief moment but heavy with meaning, and when it passes David gives a nod and the barest curve of his lips before stepping back and taking his seat next to the queen. 

Killian returns his attention to Emma, tucks her hand into the crook of his elbow and attempts a smile. 

“Swan, you look...” he trails off, for once at a loss for words. 

She gives him a cheeky smile. “I know.” 

His own smile blooms, the breathless tension broken, and they turn together to face Lancelot. 

(The footman announced him and Killian entered the king and queen’s private residence to find them waiting with tea already laid. They looked surprised to see him alone, then comprehension dawned and they sat up straighter, more formally, and he bowed, first to Snow then to David, then waited at military attention until they bade him to take a seat. 

“I know that you know why I’m here,” he said. “We’ve never spoken about it in so many words but I know that you have always understood how much I love your daughter and that my dearest wish for a long time has been to marry her. I believe that now, with my new position on the Council and with Emma officially taking on her royal duties, that it is the... well, the time.” 

He sat as straight as he could, shoulders back, and met their eyes without a waver. “Yesterday I asked Emma to marry me and she said yes,” he continued. “Today I am here to ask for your blessing—not your formal approval as the king and queen, but your blessing as parents. I know I wouldn’t have been your first choice for her, but I promise you that no one could love her more than I do and I will devote my life to her happiness.”

He took a deep breath and released it slowly, awaiting their reply. They were silent for a moment, sharing that unspoken communication they had, that he and Emma had as well. Then Queen Snow pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes and King David’s stern face softened. 

“Oh, Killian,” said Snow, sniffling. She rose to her feet and he hurried to follow—it was very bad form to sit while the queen was standing—but she waved away his attempts at protocol and took his face in her hands with a tremulous smile. “It’s true you weren’t our first choice but that doesn’t mean you aren’t the best one. You are Emma’s choice and you make her happy, and that’s all we care about. Of course you have our blessing!” 

She pulled him into a hug which he attempted to return both warmly and respectfully—not the easiest balance to strike—and met David’s eyes over her shoulder. The king was attempting to look stern, but Killian knew him too well by now to be fooled.

So did Snow. “David,” she said, turning to him and dabbing her eyes again. “Come greet our son-in-law.”  

David stood and offered Killian his hand. “Welcome to the family,” he said.)

Lancelot’s smile is wide and his voice resonant, but Killian does not hear his words. He is conscious only of Emma beside him, the soft weight of her hand on his arm, the magnitude of this moment. His heart is so full of love for her he fears it may burst, and though he supposes he should listen to the vows he is taking, he doesn’t truly need to. He knows what they say and more importantly he feels them, those words that speak of love and trust and partnership, of solemn duty gladly undertaken, and he has no need to hear the words to promise to uphold them. 

“I do,” he says, when the time comes, and Emma repeats this vow in her turn. Then he is turning to her, his hand firm on the small of her back as he leans in to kiss her. 

And with that, they are married. 

(“Killian!” Emma tapped gently at his door. “Killian, are you there?”

“Swan!” He leapt from the sofa where he and Liam had been lounging, exchanging an alarmed glance with his brother as he approached the door. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” 

“I just wanted to talk to you,” she said quietly. “I miss you.” 

Liam rolled his eyes but Killian ignored him. “I miss you too,” he said. “But—”

“I wish I could see you.” 

Killian sighed. “Love, you know that’s bad luck.” 

“I know you think it’s bad luck.” 

“A seafaring man knows better than to mess about defying superstitions,” he told her sternly. “Even ones that may be foolish. Perhaps it’s not bad luck to see the bride the night before the wedding, but I don’t care to take that chance.” 

“I know,” she sighed. “And I do understand, I just—I hate sleeping without you.” 

“I know, darling, me too.” Killian leaned his forehead against the door, knowing that on the other side she was doing the same. “But it’s just one night. Come tomorrow there’ll be no getting rid of me.” 

Emma’s voice dropped so low he could barely hear her. “Promise?” 

“Aye, my love,” he whispered back. “I promise.”)

The organ music swells as he and Emma walk arm-in-arm back down the aisle. The doors swing open as they approach and the glare of the sunlight outside momentarily blinds him. When his vision clears he sees a crowd of people filling up and spilling out of the chapel grounds and into the streets, where traffic has been blocked off for the occasion. A great cheer erupts as they emerge and stand together at the top of the curving steps so the people below can get a good look at their princess and new prince. 

Bloody hell, thinks Killian. Prince. 

It’s a courtesy title that holds no real weight, and he won’t even technically assume it until Emma takes the throne. But the tabloids are already calling him Prince Killian, which makes him blush and Emma laugh, and as the crowd cheers and she smiles and waves as naturally as breathing, Killian feels overwhelmed. This is his life now, he thinks. He is a public figure, a member of the royal family. He has a duty to these people, a responsibility, and—his head begins to spin and bile rises in his throat and then he feels Emma’s hand tighten on his arm. 

“It’s okay,” she whispers, rubbing tiny, gentle circles on his bicep with her fingertips. “You’re okay. I love you.” 

Her touch grounds him and her voice quells his rising panic. He looks down at her and she smiles, radiant with happiness and love and sunlight and he feels himself relax. This is just them, after all. Just Killian and Emma, together, as they’ve been now for more than five years. That’s all that matters. 

He smiles back at her then turns to the crowd and raises his hand in a tentative wave. Cheers swell and cameras flash, and Emma’s voice is low in his ear. 

“You’re a natural.” 

~

The rest of the day is a dizzying whirl of speeches and toasts and hands to shake, people bowing and calling him ‘sir’, Liam’s tight, proud hug and the tears in the queen’s eyes. There is dancing and a meal they don’t have time to eat, and so many camera flashes that Killian begins to think the spots behind his eyelids when he blinks may be permanent. 

Emma smiles through it all but he can see fatigue begin to settle on her shoulders and around her eyes. She’s been awake since dawn at least and moving nonstop, with constant demands on her time and attention. She bears it brilliantly, sustained by a lifetime of royal training, but he knows how much it drains her and wishes he could whisk her away to someplace quiet and private, just for a moment, where they could lean against each other and just breathe. 

Finally the time comes for them to leave for their honeymoon, which they do in one of the palace limousines. One with tinted windows, Killian notes in relief, and comfortable leather seats, quite different from the stiff, open-topped carriages that conveyed them to and from the chapel. Everyone gathers round to see them off, and they muster the energy for one last round of smiles and waves. The instant the car pulls away Emma droops, collapsing against Killian’s chest with a small sigh. He wraps his arm around her and pulls her close. 

“Long day,” he says. 

“You’re not kidding,” she murmurs. “But a good one.” 

“Aye,” he agrees, and lets his cheek rest on his wife’s head. His wife. “The best day.” 

They sit in comfortable silence as the car moves through the streets. People still line them, hoping for a glimpse of the royal couple, but the tint of the windows is dark and Killian is glad of it; frankly he feels no obligation to give the public any more of himself or of Emma today. He’s exhausted and she’s already asleep, snoring faintly into the crook of his neck. 

They drive to the palace and through the grand front entrance, around the main buildings and towards the rear exit and the road that leads to the airport. The limo pauses briefly in a small alcove that’s invisible from outside the palace grounds, where Killian nudges Emma awake and they perform a quick-change operation worthy of a spy film, slipping from the limo—which then proceeds through the rear gates without them—and into an ordinary, unmarked car.  This car Killian drives out a small side exit where no crowds are gathered and down the quiet streets that lead to the coast, as Emma curls up in the passenger seat and dozes again with her head pillowed on his coat. 

It’s quite late when they reach their destination—a small house on a tall cliff overlooking the ocean. The housekeeper is there to greet them, giving them a brief tour of the amenities then showing them to their room, with a curtsey and a reminder that she lives just next door should there be anything they need. 

“Thank you,” Killian says with a smile. “I think we’ll be all right.” 

He turns back into the room where Emma has already shed the sleek dress she wore to the reception and is snuggling into the dressing gown that was laid out on the bed for her. Killian follows suit, pleased to discard his stiff dress uniform in favour of slipping into something far more comfortable. He considers making a quip along those lines to Emma, but considering how tired she is he doubts the innuendo would be well-received. Something like 80% of couples don’t have sex on their wedding night, he reminds himself. And he and Emma have three weeks’ worth of nights to look forward to, alone here on this rocky stretch of shore—one final interlude just for them before they return to their life in the public eye. They can spare this one night just for sleep. 

Their bedroom has a set of wide French doors leading to a balcony that overlooks the beach, and these Killian opens, stepping out into the fading twilight and breathing deeply of the crisp sea air. It’s unlikely he’ll be able to spend much time on the sea in the future and he would be lying if he claimed not to feel a twinge of sadness at that thought. But he’ll have a lifetime with Emma instead, in the face of which joyous prospect all other concerns pale into insignificance.

Emma. His wife. He wonders how long it will be before that word stops making him feel giddy. Possibly never—and honestly, Killian reflects, he’s okay with that.  

Emma’s arms slip around his waist and she rests her chin on his shoulder. “What are you thinking about?” she asks. 

He turns so he can wrap her in his arms. “I’m thinking about how much I love you,” he replies, “and how much I am looking forward to living the rest of my life by your side.” 

“Mmmm,” she says. “Those are good thoughts.” 

She leans up for a kiss and he gladly obliges, trying to keep it light and sweet—but Emma is having none of that. She presses herself firmly against him and slips her tongue past his lips and Killian’s body leaps to attention before he can stop it. 

“Are you sure, Swan?” he murmurs. “You’re exhausted.” 

“I had a nap,” she replies, nipping at his lip. “And this sea air is really quite  invigorat—oh!” She shrieks as he scoops her up in his arms and carries her to the bed where he lays her down with a gentleness that belies the fire in his veins. She watches as he slips off his dressing gown, biting her lip in that way she knows drives him mad. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes, love,” he purrs. 

“Why don’t you come down here and do something about it?” 

She shrieks again as he pounces on her then sighs into his kiss, and as the rising moon casts the room in a gentle glow they share one last celebration of their wedding and their love. 

___

@ohmightydevviepuu @thisonesatellite @kmomof4 @stahlop​ @darkcolinodonorgasm @katie-dub @teamhook @snidgetsafan @mariakov81 

“I tried. That blasted device has been blaring for half an hour.” He pointed to what looked like a previously working alarm clock. Now it was just a pile of wires and plastic parts all across the cabin floor. “Did you go through another bottle again? Killian, when are you going to stop all of your self-loathing?”

Liam Jones, older brother extraordinaire began tossing away empty bottles with a roll of his eyes. He had been there with Killian through everything. The morning their mother passed, Liam was there holding his baby brother as he cried into his shirt. When their father did not come home, it was Liam who watched over his little brother. The day he turned eighteen, Liam fought with everything he had to earn custody of Killian. It meant working two jobs while also making sure that the rebellious Killian attended school and was clothed and fed. By the time Killian was old enough they were both in their respective ports serving in Her Royal Majesty’s Navy.

“Liam, the bloody fucking sun is not even out. Why in God’s name do I need to be up before it’s light out?” The faint pounding in his head increasing with each blink of his eyes. He almost swore someone was wielding a sledgehammer behind his eyes.

“You know better than to take his name in vain, little brother. Did you forget everything you learned in Bible study?”

A sudden memory of a nun slapping a ruler against a chalkboard flashed in Killian’s mind. He didn’t remember everything but he knew the important bits. Jesus turned water into wine. The Ten Commandments. It’s not as if any of it had helped him recently.

“Are you going to tell me why I am sitting awake on wet bed sheets? We are suppose to be on liberty. That means sleeping in.”

“You are only sleeping in because you stayed awake all night. Now put a shirt on and meet me in the Mess. I’ll fill you in over breakfast.” Liam threw a pillow at his brother before leaving.

After a string of incoherent curses, Killian rummaged around his bunk to find his uniform. Without a window in the cabin, he took a guess at what the weather would be like. The coast of Ireland in April could always be deceiving and he was sure Liam was going to take them both out for the day.

It took Killian almost 10 extra minutes to get down to where he was sure his older brother was waiting for him. He could almost hear Liam drumming his fingers against the metal table each time he had to stop because a fellow sailor commented on his red eyes or the dark circles underneath. Every time he opened a bottle he would tell himself that he would only have a shot or two. But two shots would turn into an entire glass, and after two glasses Killian would ditch the useless tumbler and drink straight from the bottle. He knew what would happen. No matter how much water he drank or how many painkillers he took, the result would always be the same. One massive headache and a piss poor mood.

His mood was even worse when he walked into the Mess to find that Liam had a glass of some awful green concoction. It could only be one thing. Liam Brennan Jones’ version of a hangover cure. One thing for sure was that the bloody drink would taste absolutely terrible.

“What ever happened to a good English breakfast after a night out on the town?”

“First of all, you did not spend the night out on the town. You wallowed away in some pub all night only to drink yourself unconscious in your bunk.

Second, you can do whatever you please at the end of the month when you get discharged. Until then you will continue to follow not only the royal navy’s rules but mine as well. I will still be your older brother even when I am no longer your captain.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Killian saluted. “In two weeks you will have a new lieutenant to push around.”

“Aye, sometimes I look forward to the day. But until then you are mine, little brother. Now drink up. I want you more coherent. Something big came about last night.”

“Younger brother.” Begrudgingly, Killian drank his hangover cure. He flagged down one of the steward’s for a proper breakfast, finally settling in for Liam’s big news.

“Are you ready?”

Trying very hard not to roll his eyes, Killian slowly nodded his head. The movement felt like his brain was hitting the inside of his skull but Killian managed not to wince. At least he hoped not.

“We found something!” Liam vaguely explained.

“We? As in you and me? Because I certainly do not remember finding anything of importance. Or do you mean the crew? If that is the case I must be far more hungover than I thought, because I was almost positive our latest mission was a recon.”

“Just shut it you git and let me explain. Petty Officer Morgan…”

“Oh you mean that American you have been chatting with in your free time?” Killian suddenly was more interested in this story. Especially when it involved his prude of a brother and a woman.

“It is not like that Killian and you know it. Get your mind out of the gutter so I can explain. She and I have been emailing back and forth since we meet when you and I were stationed at the U.S. Joint Reserve Base in New Orleans. Reylin is into history same as we are. In fact, she actually did a semester abroad at Imperial College the same time you were in your second year.”

“So she likes history. Sounds like the two of you were made for each other.”

“Stop it, Killian. Would you let me get to the point? She likes history and her favorite subject is lost treasures of the world. She and I have been talking about our hobbies outside of our respective navys and she mentioned looking into an old New Orleans legend. Jean Lafitte.”

If Killian hadn’t been interested before, he was certainly now. While he was not as enthusiastic about history as his brother, Killian Jones did have a love of pirates, fiction or real.

“So you two were talking about a man who was one of the lesser known pirates? What is so important about him?”

“What is important is that to the people in the southern states, Lafitte is not just a second rate pirate. There he is a legend. And before you interrupt me again I wanted to tell you that Morgan has been looking into an old legends about Lafitte. More specifically his last buried treasure.”

“And she found it?”

Pirates and buried treasures had not been what Killian had thought he would be spending his morning talking about. And honestly, he still wished he wasn’t, his bed and pillow were screaming for him to return.

“Not exactly. But she has been digging and she found coordinates to a possible location.”

“Liam, what does this have to do with us?”

“I was thinking that you will be discharged at the end of the month and I will be on leave from my tour. And what better bonding than going on a treasure hunt?”

Killian was thankful that in that moment the steward had brought him his breakfast. He was going to need more protein to get his brain functioning if he was going to deal with Liam and another one of his grand ideas of adventures. The last time the two of them spent bonding time together, Liam ended up in a naval hospital in Brazil after finding out he was highly allergic to a thorny plant in the jungle.

“You want to go on a treasure hunt?” Killian began scanning the room. “Are you pranking me? Or is this some type of documentary for National Geographic? You honestly think it is a good idea for the two of us to fly to the colonies to help a Yankee sailor hunt for an unknown buried treasure? Are you sure you are not trying to impress this lass? Because trying to become Indiana Jones sure sounds like it.”

There was silence between the men as Killian ate and Liam sulked. It was when Killian’s eyes didn’t seem so heavy and his proper posture returned that Liam spoke again.

“You are telling me that you do not want to go? Killian Jones- Mr. ‘I love a challenge’ does not want to help a pretty woman find a long lost treasure? What else would you be doing besides wallowing away in your apartment?”

What was he supposed to say to that? Killian huffed and slouched in his seat. He could tell that Liam knew he had won. 

The next week and a half was spent listening to Liam and Officer Morgan talk about what the possibilities were at the end of the coordinates Reylin had. Killian had to admit that it was all very interesting and that he often found himself wondering what the treasure could be. Realistically he knew that the chance of finding something valuable was slim to near impossible. But it didn’t stop Killian from reading up on Jean Lafitte in his spare time.

As it turned out there was more to the man than it seemed. He had no loyalties to anyone but the person paying him. He looted supplies from ships belonging to Britain, France, and America. But what was interesting was that much of the loot that was stolen was dispersed by Pierre Lafitte, Jean’s half-brother. From his reading, Killian could tell that Jean and Pierre were close. Enough so that he could see the similarities between these brothers and he and Liam.

Jean was the romantic type. A number of legends and tales told of his seduction of women and his charm. Liam had almost choked on his dinner one night when Killian read the latest biography. “Sounds like a certain young lieutenant I know.” He had coughed.

Pierre was more reserved. He was the brains of the operations. It was his job to make sure that all treasures were sold or taken care of. While Jean was out having fun raiding the ships, it was Pierre who was keeping them both out of jail. Until he unfortunately found himself behind bars in a rat infested jail in New Orleans that is. Killian kept that news away from Liam.

Late one-night, Killian sat at his desk lost in a rabbit hole of information. If he was going to go on this adventure with his brother and some American lass, he wanted to know what it was that they were going after. His search started with possible treasures that one might look for with pirate hunting. It was after one in the morning, that Killian ended up on a forum made up of men and women across the world that discussed possible leads in hunts, myths and legends, and even a few experts on famous lost treasures. One post in particular caught Killian’s attention.

The lost treasure of Jean Lafitte is considered one of the world’s greatest lost treasures. It is believed that Lafitte hid the treasure somewhere in the city with clues left behind for his brother to one day find. To this day it has never been recovered.

The Voodoo Queen of New Orleans herself spent much of her life dedicated to finding out what was in the lost treasure of Jean Lafitte. No one knows why she wanted the treasure so badly. Was it for the money? Was the treasure powerful? Could it have possibly been tied to the city? To magic? Was the treasure a person? Perhaps the treasure is the long lost Fleur de Lis.

There were more posts and comments that all led to the same thing. The Napoleon Fleur de Lis. It was a pure gold statue encrusted with the finest cute diamonds and rubies. The fleur de lis itself was priceless without even considering it’s history. Napoleon had the statue commissioned as a physical representation of his family crest. Before his exile the statue had gone missing only for it to turn up in the hands of the American government after the Louisiana purchase. The government then gave the Fleur de Lis to the city of New Orleans as a gift. Years later the very statue went missing again, never to be seen again. At the same time, Pierre Lafitte had been imprisoned for the murder of an American sailor (was later exonerated) and his brother had moved all operations to Galveston.  

This was it. It had to be it. The treasure that Reylin and ultimately Killian and Liam were hunting.

With a quick text message to the group chat between the members saying he found a lead, Killian sat back in his chair with a grin on his face. Maybe this whole treasure hunting thing wouldn’t be so terrible after all. It could be just the distraction he needed from his constant thoughts of her eyes. Or the three faint lines she would get on her forehead when he said or did something that annoyed her.

That night he fell into a restless sleep. Dreams of a conversation from a time long before his own flashed behind his closed eyes. But just before he woke the next morning, the mystery man in Killian’s dreams faded into an image of himself. Green eyes full of tears broke his heart as he spoke to her.

Emma has enough money to get an apartment for about four months, give or take. She knows who will be looking for her and they will expect her to go several countries away, but she's going to France adjacent to the small country of Misthaven, that which she calls home. They won't expect her to be so close, to be almost under their noses. Hopefully that will work for a couple months.

She slips past her detail in the middle of the night without them noticing her. It's not uncommon for her to leave to go out for the night, but she usually comes back in the morning. She won't be this time. She catches the last train across the border.

Once in Paris she sits in a twenty-four hour cafe and it’s comforting that no one looks at her twice. That no one knows who she is. She scans the local newspaper for apartments. She finds a charming three bedroom apartment that's looking for a roommate. Nothing else looks ideal really, so once it's an acceptable hour she'll give the number a call.

The women, Elsa, on the other end of the call is nice enough and tells her to meet her at the cafe under her apartment.

Emma meets Elsa in the cafe and the women is distant, but polite. The two women come to an arrangement about the space. Emma claims to be visiting and looking for an authentic experience. Not necessarily a lie, but not the full truth either. The room is furnished, and Elsa and her sister are trying to save some money by having a roommate. No contract, not that Emma minds. That would just lead a trail to her. After she hands over the first month's rent plus a little extra, Elsa hands her a key, and they head upstairs. The room is small, but not tiny and the furniture nice. Better than what Emma hoped for. Emma sets her bags there and heads out into the kitchen.

Elsa seems all business, so hopefully she won't try and be too nosey about Emma's life. That might've been true, but then she met Anna, Elsa’s sister and she was the most cheerful person Emma ever met. She wanted to know everything about Emma.

“What are you doing in Paris?” Anna asks as Emma looks around the kitchen.  

“Just trying to get an authentic experience by living with people who know the city,” Emma smiles, trying to edge back to her room.

“Oh that's great! Elsa and I were born and raised here. We can tell you all the good places to go,” she says excitedly. Elsa comes out of her room dressed in a pant suit. Emma raises an eyebrow about to ask a question when Elsa cuts her off before she can start.  

“I'm a lawyer and I'm due in court,” she explains to Emma and turns to Anna, “leave the poor girl alone she's probably tired from traveling.” With Elsa’s departure, Emma slips back into her room falling asleep almost instantly.

That night Elsa comes home and the three girls have a lovely dinner that Anna made for them. After her short nap Emma was pulled into the kitchen with Anna and told her as much as she could about herself. She learns a lot about the sisters. Their parents raised them, but they tragically died in a car accident when Elsa was in law school and Anna was still in high school. Elsa had to take care of her sister. Emma barely asked any questions Anna just told her most of this. The dinner is delicious and she learns even more about the two sisters.

Over the next month she develops a nice friendship with the two sisters that she hadn't expected. Normal people make easy friendships though and that's why she was doing this. To be normal. To forget who she is. To forget about him. Emma’s first impression about Elsa was wrong. She appears to be all business, but her and Emma have grown to be close friends.

One night the sisters decide to go out with some of their other friends and invite Emma along. They introduce her to Ruby and her girlfriend, Dorothy, Belle and Will, who apparently won't tell each other how they feel. For some reason Anna felt the need to tell Emma that before entering the bar. They grab a table at the local bar and order some drinks. Ruby starts asking the questions.

“So you're from Misthaven right?” She asks curious and Emma just nods.

“I can't believe their princess is missing that's so tragic,” Belle says. Emma cringes at this. About two days after her departure her parents revealed that she was missing. Her mother looked heart broken. When Emma explains why she did all this her mother will understand, hopefully.

“I know it is,” Anna adds on, nodding solemnly

“You know you kinda look like her,” Ruby says to her. Emma blushes, she wondered if this would come up, but she has something prepared for this.  

“Yeah I get that all the time and having the same name as her never helped,” Emma laughs it off and so does the group. They all talk late into night and they only leave after last call. She exchanged numbers with everyone there and it's nice. She hit it off with everyone. She has plans with Ruby to go shopping this week. This could never happen back home. She couldn't have a friend that she could go shopping with without security and an empty store. This is normal and Emma loves it. She felt guilty when they said that the Misthaven Princess had gone missing, but she needs to see who she is without the title and the people will understand that when she returns. Her parents will too. Most importantly here there are no reminders of him. None at all.

Everyday she tried something new or goes somewhere new. She loves every minute of it. She spends time with her new friends and lives her life.

Her new friends are the highlight of her life. Anna is a college student and tells her all the good restaurants to try. Elsa is busy with her job but always joins them for dinner telling them about the crazy criminals she dealt with that day. Ruby owns a boutique and always knows what will look best on Emma. Dorothy is a policewoman and has fascinating stories about her job. Belle works at the library and keeps giving Emma books to read. Will is a local private investigator and is slightly cynical about people. Emma cannot tell if that’s from his job or just who he is, but it's good for the group to have a cynic with someone as happy and optimistic as Anna is. They balance each other out.

It’s a typical Friday night, so they head down to the bar. All her friends are there complaining about something or another and how grateful they are it’s the weekend.

Later in the night a tall, dark man strides up the table. The whole group doesn't stop talking and he only has eyes for Emma. At first she’s the only one who notices him. She never imagined he would come after her. Damn him he looks so good. He’s wearing a black suit jacket and slacks with a white shirt with the first couple buttons open. His chest hair is peaking out of the top of his shirt. Fuck, his blue eyes could pierce a hole through her. He was supposed to be on his boat far away from all of this. He clears this throat never taking his gaze off of her.

“Emma, how nice to see you,” he says with a blank face. He was always tricky for her to read. It wasn't fair he could read her like an open book. He certainly has grabbed the attention of the table. No one says anything just looking from him to her.

“Killian, nice to see you as well,” she says with slight irritation.

“I must admit it was hard to find you. Although you’ve never made it easy,” he says with a slight smirk. He's flirting with her, shamelessly might she add.

“Emma, what is he talking about?” Dorothy asks curious.

“What fun would that be,” she flirts back totally ignoring Dorothy's question.

“Emma, are you going to introduce us to your friend here?” Ruby asks curious to her friend‘s behavior.

“I'm afraid Emma can't. She has to come home with me,” Killian says firmly, still gazing at Emma. Before she can object Dorothy does.

“I don't like your tone of voice and I might be off duty, but I'll have my coworkers here in a heartbeat if you don't back off.” She says her voice full of malice. This caught Killian’s attention, but only for a brief moment. His head snaps back to Emma.

“I'm assuming they don't know who you are,” Killian says and takes her silence as a yes, “Ladies and gentlemen you are in the presence with none other than Princess Emma, heir to the throne of Misthaven. I'm a captain in the Royal Navy and I’m here to bring her home.” Killian states and hands over his credentials to Dorothy, so she doesn't call her cop friends. All her friends look confused looking from one another then to her.

“Emma, is what he saying true?” Elsa asks, skeptical. All of her friends eyes on her.

“Yes, what he says is true and I will explain. I am so sorry. I just need a word with Killian.” Emma says annoyed that he outed her in such a manner. She stands up and moves toward him. She stops right in front of him.

“I can't believe they called you off your ship to come and find me, Lieutenant” she says bitterly.

“They didn't have to and it's Captain now,” he reminds her, “Once I heard of your disappearance I came back immediately. I assumed the worst about you. Until I realized you ran away. Now, we can talk more on the way home. Let's go,” he gestures toward the door.

“I'm not going back right now. My friends deserve an explanation,” she says crossing her arms. The group is looking and listening to her conversation waiting for her.

“You should've have thought about that before you lied to them,” he says harshly.

“When did you become so heartless?” She snaps at him.

“The moment I got on my ship,” he throws in her face, which really she should’ve seen coming. Emma pulls herself together.

“I still outrank you, Captain, so you're going to let me explain to my friends what happened then we're going to my apartment to gather my things and then we will go home.” She commands and he just nods somewhat reluctantly. She leaves him standing there and resumes her seat at the table.

The moment she sits down they ask her questions all at once. She gets them to quiet down and she explains everything and apologizes more times than she can count. The still have questions at the end and she answers them all. Killian stands there annoyed, but says nothing. They forgive her saying that they just wished that they knew the truth. She was so afraid that she would lose them when they found out the truth, but they claim that it doesn’t change how they feel about her. They love her despite who she is and the lies she has told. Nothing else matters right now.

“Okay one final question,” the whole group stares at Ruby, “What's going on with Killian? Are you two together?” Emma blushes.

“That's a complicated question, but we aren't together,” she says staring at him. His eyes are trained one her and for one moment she sees something call it hope maybe even love. Which seems impossible after what she did.

“Emma, you cannot send him away. That won’t solve anything,” Mary Margaret tries to reason with her. She regrets giving Emma this responsibility. The mother thought it would be a distraction from her daughter’s recent break up. The newest ship in their fleet, The Cygnus, needed a captain and she thought Emma should choose the captain. Mary Margaret should’ve realized this was a bad idea.

“Mother, Killian’s the most qualified and is up next for promotion. He’s been a lieutenant for far too long. Liam was made Admiral last year. It’s been his dream for a while now to have his own ship,” Emma says holding back tears. Ending their relationship had been hard, but she needed space. She had to become Queen soon and a Queen cannot be distracted. She needs to be impervious. Interested parties would use him against to control the crown and she couldn’t allow that. This protected them both.

“Emma, please reconsider. You guys have had rough patches in the past. This too will pass,” her mother says.

“Mom, this wasn’t a fight. We’re done. Besides you know I’m right about this promotion. You can’t keep him around here because you’ll think we’ll get back together because we won’t,” Emma says. Mary Margaret knows that Killian deserves this. She practically raised that boy. She just thinks that Emma’s doing this for other reasons. Mary Margaret places a hand on Emma’s shoulder.

“I’ll only say one last thing. Sleep on this decision and remember as Queen the country comes first,” Mary Margaret says walking out of the room.

Emma waited a night per her mother’s request, but the next week Killian’s promotion was announced and the week after he boarded his own ship for the first time. After the Royal family christened the ship it was off on it’s maiden voyage. Emma didn’t come out of her room for days after. Watching him sail away was enough to break heart when it was already hurting. There are so many things Emma wished she did differently and that was one of them. There is no changing the past.

“What's not complicated is the sexual tension. You could cut that shit with a knife. You should do something about that,” Ruby says with an all too knowing smirk. The group laughs and disbands. She hugs them all knowing she may not see them any time soon. Well everyone besides Elsa and Anna, she's still going back to the apartment.

They walk back to the apartment Killian walking behind the three women. Once upstairs Anna focuses her attention on Killian. Asking him a million questions it's quite fun to watch as she packs. Once all her things are packed she hugs the sisters goodbye.

“I know you came here to find yourself, to be normal, but remember that what you do doesn't define you. Your heart does and you have a kind heart. Stay in touch and never forget that or your time with us,” Elsa says with a wisdom only she could have. It almost brings tears to her eyes and as they walk out of the apartment Killian turns to her.

“You know she's right,” he states as the door shuts behind them.

“About what?” She asks.

“You have a kind heart,” he says opening the door for her. Hearing this from him shocks her. The get to the car and she turns toward him.

“How can you say that? After what I did?”

“We both know that what you did was out of necessity towards the crown. I could never ask you to chose between me and the crown,” he says once the climb inside the car.

“But I hurt you and that was the last thing I wanted to do,” she says.

“The only way to get me to go was to hurt me. Emma, I just want to be there for you. In whatever way you need me. Then you needed me at sea,” he says calmly. The car moves down the narrow roads of Paris.

“How can you be this understanding? I thought when I saw you again that you would be furious and hate me. You seemed so angry in the bar and now I don’t understand. I never expected you to come running after me when I ran away,” she rants.

“I was angry in the bar because I had been looking for you for over two months and by this point I was ready to drag you home. I was losing hope that I was ever going to find you. Then I remember who I was dealing with and realized it would be easier to do as you wished then take you home. I’m not mad with you because well it's rather simple I love you I always have and I always will. You needed to be on your own to realize the importance of your duties to the crown. It took me a while to realize that I was so angry at first with you. I got over the anger and realized that this is what you needed. That fight we had... I never should have said any of those things. They weren't true then I didn't understand the pressures of the crown. I do now and however I can be in your life I'll take it. However don’t ever run away again, I nearly had a heart attack when I heard you went missing.” He says the last part stern as ever.

“I wasn't missing, but I promise I will never run away again.”

“It took me one minute with the evidence to realize you ran away not that you were kidnaped like they believed,” he said with a roll of his eyes. She chuckles.

“Grumpy has a flare for the dramatic although he would never admit,” she comments about the head of her security.

“He certainly does,” Killian says.

“When I ended things with us I thought I had to be this perfect princess with no faults. With mother stepping down soon I thought I had to be impervious in order to be Queen. I was convinced that someone would use my love for you against me. I was so scared of that and at the time it felt like the best way to protect you. To end things and send you off on our own ship. Looking back that seems so foolish and idiotic. I should've known you'd be at my side no matter what. That something like that wouldn't matter.” She said with regret and sadness.

He places a hand on her cheek and she leans into his touch not realizing how much she had missed it. He leans in and kisses her softly. She pulls him in closer and the kiss becomes more passionate. They can't seem to get enough of each other. They're trying to make up for lost time. Time they should’ve had together. Eventually they stop just to catch their breath and suddenly remember they're not alone. The driver has a blank face, but clearly they can't go any further.

Emma doesn't want to be far from him. They spent too long apart. She settles with pressing her forehead against his. All this time she was trying to forget him, but it wasn’t working. She’d see something and it would remind her of him. Or she’d try on an outfit in Ruby’s boutique and think how much he would love it. She’d go somewhere and think about seeing it with him.

“I never stopped loving you for one minute,” she says intertwining her fingers with his. They sit back and he pulls her close.

“I know, love. My love never wavered for you either,” he says.

“How did you find me?” she asks.

“I knew you wouldn’t stay in Misthaven and your love of Paris is no secret, at least not to me. So, I had an idea what city you were in at least. The hard part was finding where in the city. I eventually narrowed it down places you could be living and then called and went door to door. I had no idea I would find you tonight. Your neighbor told me that you ladies went out and where you usually went. I was almost sure that you wouldn’t be at the bar. I assumed it was another dead end. I was so shocked when I saw you. I thought my eyes were playing a trick on me, but sure enough there you were,” he says with a slight smile.

“No wonder it took you so long,” she smirks.

“Well you didn’t make it easy,” he says.

“I know,” she admits.

“You know your parents have been worried sick about you,” he tells her. The guilt hits her hard.

“I know. I feel awful for doing that to them. I should’ve have told them something, so they wouldn’t worry. I just wanted to be normal for once in my life. To not have to be heir to the throne,” she sighs.

“They’ll understand. I’m sure. Once we knew you weren’t kidnapped their worry lessened, but they wanted you home,” Killian tries to reassure her. He kisses her forehead and she relaxes a little.

“And I’ll be by your side, not that you need me. You’re strong and will be a great leader,” He beams. She’s glad he came after her. She was a fool for letting him go, but she had known that for weeks now. Here she was trying to forget him with absolutely no luck. All she had done most days was think about him. You cannot forget the ones you truly love no matter how hard you try. Now he’s here and he still loves her. She won’t push him away again, not now, not ever.

The car takes them to a helipad and a helicopter takes them out of Paris and back to Misthaven. When they land on the helipad at the palace her parents are there waiting for her. Once out of the helicopter her mother runs to her and pulls Emma into her arms. Mary Margaret has tears streaming down her face and soon does Emma. David joins them moments later.

Killian watches them with a fond smile on his face. He’s known the family his whole life. His parents were friends with the royal family and when they died Mary Margaret and David took Liam and him under their wing. Emma and him didn’t start dating until two years ago. He remembers that day like it was yesterday. They didn’t have the smoothest of starts.

“Swan!” Killian shouts after her. Here she is running away from him once again, her blonde hair whipping in the wind. He was trying to explain how he feels about her and he said some idiotic thing, so here they are.

“Jones, go away! I don’t want to hear it,” she shouts back. Of course she ran out to the palace gardens. She liked to hide out here. He finally reaches her and grabs her arm. She looks back at him, but slips from his grasp and keeps moving away from him.

“Well that’s too bloody bad because you’re going to hear it. What I was trying to say inside is I don’t like that you went out with that dolt of Prince because I love you!” he shouts after her because she won’t stop and listen to him. This gives her pause and she marches right up to him.

“Excuse me?” she asks still mad as hell.

“You heard me,” he states firmly. She stands there slightly dumbstruck.

“You have some nerve, Killian Jones,” she says hands on her hips.

“You know I imagined this going quite differently,” he mutters, certain he had just ruined everything.

“So did I. I gave up any hope you had any feelings for me that’s why I went on the damn date you idiot,” she fumes. Her answer surprises him.

“You never said anything…” he trails off.

“Of course not, how could I? I can read everyone, but you and I couldn’t risk that I was wrong about you. You didn’t say anything either,” she says, both of them finally calming down. He can’t take it anymore and pulls her into his arms and kisses her. She fights it for a split second not realizing what is happening at first. Then she melts a little in his arms and kisses him right back.

“Now that wasn’t so hard was it?” He jokes when they break apart. She laughs and kisses him again.

Emma calling his name and it breaks him out of his reverie.

“Killian,” she says her parents on either side of her, “come on, we’re heading in.”

“We can never thank you enough for finding her,” David says as they walk inside.

“I would’ve come home soon. I wasn’t leaving forever,” Emma huffs.

“That doesn’t matter young lady. You’ve got some explaining to do. We were worried sick about you,” Mary Margaret scolds her.

“I know, I am sorry,” Emma says, looking ashamed. The group moves into Mary Margaret’s private study. Emma and her mother sit on the love-seat and David and Killian sit in the chairs opposite from the two women.

“Why? Emma I need to know why?” Mary Margaret says.

“I wanted to be normal! I wanted to go places without security, to have friends who didn’t have to pass a background check, and to just figure some shit out. I needed space,” she says in an outburst.

“Emma, hon a lot of those things are for your own protection,” David says.

“I know that. I understand why I have them I just didn’t want them for a while. I needed to figure myself out. I was starting to doubt if I would ever be a good queen. I needed space,” she says again. Mary Margaret grabs her hand. Now, that was a development. Before now Emma had never doubted her ability to be Queen, it makes Killian wonder what the hell happened.

“This is what you are born to do I have no doubt that you will be a good queen. You should’ve just told us we could’ve arranged a family vacation,” Mary Margaret says.

“Your Majesty, she’s saying that she needed to be alone. The problem wasn’t stress. Regina said something about me, didn’t she?” Killian asks Emma.

“I never said anything about Regina,” Emma says, stubborn as ever.

“She made the comment that people would use me against you. I know her and so do you. No one else would say that to you,” he says finally putting the pieces together. Regina was technically Mary Margaret’s step mother. She lived in the summer palace, away from the capital, but when she wanted to she would make an appearance and she knew how to press Emma’s buttons. Mary Margaret and David have noticed the shift in the conversation.

“Fine, she made the comment, but at the time it seemed like the truth. For whatever reason I thought she was right. That people would manipulate me through you, that it was better to be alone,” she says, shaking her head.

“I can’t believe she would say such a thing,” Mary Margaret says. Everyone gives her a questioning look.

“I can. Mary, it is not the first time she has meddled with Emma and won’t be the last if we let her. You know what, Emma don’t listen to her anymore. Frankly I don’t want to see her here unless she gets invited,” David says sternly. Killian couldn’t agree more.

“David, we can’t cut her out like that,” Mary says, shocked.

“We can and we will. She can stay at the summer palace I don’t care. She is not messing with my family anymore. She tried this us. She tried to convince me that I wasn’t good enough for you weeks before we got married,” David explains and the whole room goes silent.

“You never told me that,” Mary Margaret says, angry. This conversation has gotten rather awkward, Killian and Emma are just sitting there, looking at each other rather than the bickering couple.

“She’s you’re only living family. I couldn’t do that to you,” David explains.

“David, you’re my husband. You, Emma, and Jones’ boys are my family. She was never a mother to me,” Mary Margaret says annoyed with her husband.

“It’s settled then she won’t be seeing us anymore,” David says, looking at Emma, who nods in agreement. What Regina had said ate at her and she knew that it wasn’t right. She couldn’t bring herself to see what Regina was doing just like Mary Margaret. Even when she had figured it out she didn’t know what to say or who to tell.

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I need some sleep,” Killian says and they all nod, “Emma, a word?” David looks like he’s about to say something when Mary Margaret all but drags him out of there.

“Kissing you is nice and I’ll gladly do whatever you want, but I need to know what you want,” Killian asks her.

“I want you and us back together. I don’t want to spend any time apart, so you better take me to bed before I fall asleep,” she commands. A smile crosses his face and he takes her hand in his.

“As you wish.” She doesn’t make it her bed though. Emma practically falls asleep on the stairs, and he has to carry her up. He lays her down in bed and crawls in with her the exhaustion crashing over him in a wave. She’s right they shouldn’t waste any time together. In fact tomorrow he’ll ask David and Mary Margaret for her hand in marriage. He doesn’t want another day without her and by the way she’s curled up on his chest he thinks she feels the same way.