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Chapter Text

The ground was frozen hard, snow painting rocks and dried undergrowth brilliant white. Trees stretched long, skeletal fingers against the overcast sky, and the chill wind cut him to the bone.

 Killian Jones shivered despite his heavy leather coat, and slowly looked around the desolate clearing. He felt a little dizzy and disoriented. Traveling between realms was always exhausting, but this time particularly so.  Where exactly was he?  Not his own land, not Storybrooke, and (thankfully), not Neverland.

 Night was starting to fall, not a good sign when one has just been marooned in a hostile environment. Through the gathering darkness, he could just barely make out what appeared to be human shapes, huddled on the ground.

Killian moved as quickly as he could toward those motionless forms, praying to the gods that they were alive. His heart rose into his throat as he spied a woman sprawled in the snow, her tousled blonde hair fanned out over the icy ground. Next to her lay a boy, his youthful features pinched and pale with cold.

“Emma! Henry!” Killian cried, stretching out his hand to the two people he loved most in the world.
 
Gently, very gently, he lifted Emma and Henry into his arms, and stared intently into their silent faces. “Wake up, please, please wake up,” he murmured, immensely relieved to see that their chests still rose and fell with their breathing.

Tenderly, Killian stroked Emma Swan’s cold cheek. “Emma, Emma, my darling, wake up.”

In response to the quiet intensity of his voice, Emma’s eyes slowly fluttered open, their jade depths groggy with pain and confusion. “Hook?” she whispered. “What...?”

“No time to explain now,” Killian replied. “We have to get ourselves, and Henry to some sort of shelter, and quickly.” Nervously, he glanced around. “It’s not safe in the open.”

Carefully holding on to Henry, he dragged Emma to her feet. She gasped as she stood, swaying a bit. “Oh my god, Henry! Is he…?”

Killian shook his head. “Just unconscious, but he won’t last long out here. None of us will.  Emma…Are you all right? Can you walk?”

Emma nodded. It was so dark now that Killian could barely see her.

“Okay, that’s good,” he replied. “Hold onto me, so we won’t get separated in the dark, and I’ll carry Henry.”

He swung Henry up more securely into his arms, careful to keep his hook away from the lad’s face.  With Emma’s arm tightly wrapped around his, the trio moved toward the dark trees fringing the clearing

“So tired…” Emma muttered. She sounded utterly drained.

Killian empathized, as exhaustion was threatening to overtake him also, but it would not do to stop moving, certainly not in this weather, and not without some sort of shelter or warmth to sustain them. The pirate was hoping that something useful would present itself in the forest. At least there was plenty of dead branches and underbrush there. They could make a lean-to, and a fire. Good thing he always carried his fire flint (and the very useful modern matches) in his coat pocket. 

Snow was starting to fall; Killian could feel it, little sparks of cold clinging to his eyelashes and face.  The only light was the faint glimmer of pallid moon that occasionally peeked out from behind the clouds and tree branches.

As the three moved into the forest, even that faint light disappeared. The fir trees, with their drooping, snow-laden boughs, seemed to close in on all sides, and the only sound was the crunch of their boots on the frosted ground, and their own ragged breathing.

Killian thought despairingly that they wouldn’t be able to last much longer. The cold was starting to make him feel ill and sluggish, and he knew that despite their thick winter jackets, Emma and young Henry must be feeling it even more.

Instinctively the pirate knew that they needed to go further into the woods, and away from the danger he knew would follow.  It was completely dark now, but too risky to attempt to kindle a light.

Progress through the shadowed cold was agonizing as they trudged on, deeper and deeper, dodging low hanging branches, and tripping over hidden rocks and tree roots. Killian tightened his grip on the still unconscious boy. Beside him, Emma’s hand kept slipping from his leather-clad arm, as she struggled through the drifting snow.

Many long moments passed as the little group stumbled forward, when suddenly Emma just stopped, the force of her body dragging at Killian, and bringing him to a halt too.

Emma stared up into the pirate's face with a look of utter despair.

“My love?” Killian asked. “ What is it?”

“We’ll lose him, Hook,” she said, her voice raspy with unshed tears. “We’ll lose our son!”

With a cry of agony, Emma turned, and flung out her hand. A torrent of silvery light, iridescent as an opal, sprang forward, piercing the night.  In its magical beam, and about a hundred feet away, a wooden cabin stood illuminated, almost hidden beneath big evergreens.

Chapter Text

With Emma at his side, and their son in his arms, Killian surged toward the cabin. Just as they stumbled up the low steps to the porch, Emma’s light faded away, and they were in darkness once more. No illumination shone in the windows or seeped beneath the closed door. The place was deadly still, and seemed utterly abandoned.

To his surprise, the door swung open easily when Killian pushed it with his hook. Not wasting any time, he dragged himself, Emma, and Henry inside, and then quickly shut the door after them, bolting it.

Within, the cabin was very chilly, but still a decided improvement over the forest. The pirate stared into the gloom, straining to see. Before he could magic a light, Emma pointed, and slowly a soft, mellow glow crept into the room. With it came the clean, enticing scent of her magic, reminding him of the sea on a quiet morning.

Killian quickly scanned the room, hook at the ready, searching for any hidden dangers. Instinct told him all was clear, but he kept his senses alert, until he could do a thorough sweep. The place was sparsely furnished, consisting of one “common” room, with a side passage that presumably led to other chambers. A large brick fireplace dominated the end wall. Within hung a chimney crane, and from this was suspended a small iron cooking pot. Several logs were neatly arranged within the hearth, waiting to be lit. On the floor nearby was a box of firewood and kindling, and a battered set of fireplace tools.

Facing the hearth was a leather sofa, with some quilts neatly folded over one end, and on the hardwood floor, a woven rug whose intricate design shone with soft blues and reds. On the farthest wall, beneath a hanging lantern, were a scuffed wooden table and bench, and shelves containing canned food and other useful supplies. Beside this stood an old-fashioned pine cabinet, with a stone sink. The sink’s lone metal tap looked rusty, and Killian wondered if any water would actually flow from it.

Gently he laid the unconscious Henry on the sofa, and pulled the quilts over him. Emma, shaking snow from her jacket, limped across the room. With a sigh, she sat beside their son, a concerned expression on her face.

“Please don’t worry, Henry will be all right,” Killian assured her, trying to keep his tone confident.

Looking up at the pirate, Emma suddenly frowned. “Hook, you’re bleeding!”

Killian glanced down, and was startled to see that red stained his left arm. “Must have happened in the fight. It’s just a graze, Swan, no need for concern.”

“Let me take care of it, Hook,” Emma insisted, “It looks pretty nasty.”

“As you wish,” he replied, “But first let’s see about getting some heat.”

“Damn it, you are so stubborn,” Emma muttered.

The pirate pulled a matchbox from his pocket, and kneeling in front of the fireplace, glanced up the chimney to make sure the flue was open. Satisfied it was, he took a match from the box, and struck it against the brick foundation. The match flared, and Killian thrust it into the logs. He then quickly grabbed a handful of kindling and tossed it onto the gathering flame. In moments the fire was blazing, and giving off welcome heat. Golden sparks popped and flew up the chimney, and Killian thought that the crackling of the fire was one of the nicest sounds he had ever heard. For the first time since they had arrived in this frozen land, he felt a stirring of hope.

Now that warmth was provided, Killian, sword drawn, turned his attention to exploring the rest of the cabin. Thankfully, it held no threat. The other rooms consisted of a rather primitive bathroom, and a bedchamber. The latter was freezing cold, but still had a cozy vibe, with its huge old sleigh bed heaped with pillows and thick comforters, and a wood burning stove in the corner. There was no back door to the cabin, but he was pleased to see that the bedchamber at least had a large, shuttered window, should they need to make a sudden getaway.

 He returned to Emma and Henry, and was much relieved to see that the boy had finally awoken, and had some color in his face. “How are you feeling, lad? Warmer?” he asked gently.

 “Yes, definitely warmer,” Henry answered, smiling. “But really tired. Captain Jones…thank you. Emma told me you carried me here through the woods.”

 “No need to thank me, I was glad to help you,” Killian replied. He hesitated a moment, then added, “And please call me Killian, I never stand on formality.”

The boy nodded. “Okay, I can do that.”

Emma, seated on the other end of the sofa, a quilt wrapped around her shoulders, looked intently at Killian. “You also have my gratitude,” she said softly.

“I am always here for you, my darling Swan,” the pirate replied gallantly. “And for Henry.”

“Hook, I appreciate that, more than you can know.” Emma tossed the quilt aside, and stood. Taking Killian by the hand, she led him over to the shelves. “Now let me look at that wound.”

He raised a dark brow. “I bow to your superior power.”

 Emma snorted, and rolling up Killian’s sleeves, revealed torn and bloodied skin above his prosthetic. “Yeah, looks like blood to me.” Turning, she rummaged through the shelves, until she located a first aid kit, some clean towels, and a pottery bowl.

Killian, his expression rather bemused, watched as Emma turned on the sink’s tap, and a trickle of brown (and predictably icy) water emerged. She held the bowl under the faucet until it was half way full, and then waved her hand over it. Magic flashed, and the water was suddenly steaming. “There, now it’s sterile,” she announced. “Sort of.”

Dipping one of the towels in the hot water, she proceeded to gently dab at Killian’s injury, cleaning off as much blood as she could. Thankfully the wound did appear to be shallow. She opened the first aid kit, and removed a clean bandage. “What the hell?”

 “Something wrong?” Killian asked.

 “No antiseptic, actually not much of anything in this kit, mostly just bandages.”

 “I have a flask of rum in my pocket. Will that do?”

 She nodded, and took the flask from him. “This is going to hurt.” Carefully, she poured rum on the wound.

 Killian grimaced.

 “I could kiss it better,” Emma teased.

 The pirate looked hopeful. Emma shook her head, gesturing toward their son, and neatly tied the bandage around his arm. “Hook, I’m curious. Why didn’t you just magic the fire, rather than actually building it? Seems like a lot of unnecessary work. ” With a sigh, she abruptly sat down on the bench, and as she did so, her magical light faded away into darkness. “Oh, I feel a little dizzy.”

 “It’s the after shock,” Killian answered. “And that’s exactly why I don’t want to expand too much power for energy-draining tasks, such as fire starting. We need to build our powers back up to full strength, and keep them in readiness.” In a low voice intended only for Emma’s ears, he added, “ You know what’s coming after us.”

 Emma’s face paled, and she nodded.

 “Anyway, don’t drain your energies further, my love,” Killian continued tenderly. “You’re exhausted. Please, allow me.” He snapped his fingers, and instantly the oil lantern flared to life, casting a pool of warm golden light over them. “There, and it took only a tiny bit of my magic.”

 “Nice,” Emma commented, handing Killian the rum flask. “I think a sip of this will do you good, Hook.”

“ Excellent idea,” he replied, taking a swallow. “Have some yourself, you look like you could use it.” He handed her the flask’s little cup top, and poured a measure of rum into it. Emma took a cautious sip, coughing as the fiery liquid went down. “God, this stuff is strong.” She handed the flask back to him.

 “Do I get any?” came Henry’s voice from the sofa.

 “No!” they both responded in unison, and then grinned at each other.

 “What I don’t quite understand,” Emma finally said, “Is why we were all knocked unconscious when we jumped through the portal, and landed here. Is inter-dimensional travel always so debilitating? It wasn’t that way when we journeyed on the Jolly Roger, or that time Regina used Jefferson’s hat.”

 “It is when you have no device to protect you,” Killian explained. “The ship or other magical item (such as the hat, or say, a magic bean) absorbs much of the tremendous energies that are released when a portal opens. But when a portal is created by sheer personal magic alone, those energies have nowhere else to go but directly into the spell caster’s body (or anyone else using the portal), hence the temporary unconsciousness upon our arrival here, followed by exhaustion and dizziness when we awoke. Henry is smaller than you and I, which is why he stayed unconscious longer. That, and the cold, of course.”

 The pirate gazed fondly at Emma, his brilliant blue eyes soft and caressing. “It’s a damned good thing we were able to combine our magic to open that portal, otherwise I don’t like to think what Zelena would have done to us.”

 His mind cast back to just a scant two hours earlier.

 The three of them had been hurrying through the crowded streets of downtown Manhattan, on their way to the Jolly Roger, which was hidden and moored nearby. Suddenly Zelena, the green-skined Witch of the West, materialized on the icy sidewalk, flamboyant in a black pointy hat and elaborate gown. She was not alone. With a smirk, she waved her armed minions forward, scattering astonished Christmas shoppers in their wake.

 Killian drew his sword and lunged at Zelena's soldiers, while Emma, shielding Henry as best she could, guarded her pirate’s back. In the close confines of the terrified crowd of New Yorkers, she couldn’t risk using her gun, so she fought bare handed, using every bit of martial arts skill she possessed.

 The battle raged on. Swords clashed, blood flowed, and soon some of the witch’s men had fallen to the ground, fatally stabbed by Killian, others knocked aside by Emma’s ferocity. Poor Henry, utterly terrified, just tried to stay out of the way. Innocent bystanders screamed, and ran for cover. In the distance, the wailing of sirens could be heard.

 The witch, her face contorted with rage, stood to the rear of her little army, shrieking orders and lobbing immense balls of flame at the trio. Occasionally she hit one of her own soldiers, instantly incinerating them.

 Grabbing Henry, Killian pushed the boy behind him. Blood dripped from his blade as he readied it to thrust at the on-rushing enemy.

 “Surrender!” Zelena roared. “Surrender or die!”

 The pirate cocked his head, staring defiantly at their foe. He smiled crookedly. “Now how do you really expect us to answer that?” Sotto voce, he said to Emma, “No time to reach the Jolly Roger. Now would be a good moment, Swan, to open a portal.”

 “And how do you suggest we do that, Hook?” Emma whispered back.

 “Concentrate and just think of somewhere safe you’d prefer us all to be, and I will do the same. Our minds and magic should then attune to select a destination and open the portal. And don’t worry about the enemy, I will keep them at bay.”

 Emma closed her eyes, attempting to center herself. Bits of sparkling energy instantly swirled around them, but as fear and anxiety overwhelmed her, it faltered, refusing to fully coalesce. She tried again, but her control kept slipping. “Hook, it’s not working, do something!”

 In response, Killian turned and bent his head, pressing his lips to Emma’s in a kiss so searing it tore through her like electricity. Blinding white light flashed from their merged auras, ripping a portal open out of thin air. Without a backward glance, Killian and Emma, with Henry in tow, leaped into the shining vortex, Zelena's cries of fury echoing in their ears. In an instant, the portal had closed after them.

 Awakening in a strange and forbidding winter landscape, Killian staggered upright, and sheathed his sword. With some difficulty, he exchanged his prosthetic hand for his more familiar hook, feeling a little more ready for danger, with it in place.

 Grimly, Killian recalled that devastating moment of fear and panic when he had spotted Emma and Henry lying motionless in the snow. His mind quickly recoiled from the awful memory.

 Back in the present, Killian gazed at Emma, vowing that he would do whatever it took to protect her precious life, and that of their son. If that meant sacrificing his own life, than it would be a sacrifice he would willingly make a thousand times over. But he shared nothing of these dismal thoughts with his beloved.

 “Hook, “ Emma said, her voice distracting him from his sad reverie. “ Don’t you think that this land, and this cabin, seem sort of familiar?”

 The pirate nodded. “Yes, it does seem strangely familiar. But I don’t understand why.”

 Emma considered her handsome captain. “I didn’t know you had any magic, Hook, and God knows, mine is certainly unreliable at times. How did we manage to pull that off?”

 “I spent that long, long year we were separated learning magic from Regina. According to her, I was an excellent student, possessing natural magical ability. Or more precisely, I was a very driven student.” He stared pointedly at Emma and Henry. “My incentive was, shall we say, most compelling.”

 “You can work magic now?” Henry chimed in excitedly. “Mom taught you? Is she okay?” The boy’s eyes suddenly looked sad. “I really miss her.”

 “Yes, Regina is well and sends her love,” Killian replied. “As you can imagine, she's most anxious to see you again. And yes, Henry, I can perform magic, as you saw when we jumped through that portal. Thankfully, Swan’s personal magic and mine seems to combine in a very… unique and powerful way.” The lilt of his Irish accent deepened on that last phrase, sending shivers down Emma’s spine. He winked at her. “Especially under pressure.”

 “Good thing,” said Henry, yawning.

 Emma yawned too. “It’s catching. I feel like I could sleep for a thousand years.”

 Killian leaned forward and laid his hand on her shoulder, savoring the contact. “Just relax, Swan, and enjoy the warmth of the fire. While you and Henry rest, I’ll see what I can do about dinner. And I will also place a protection and concealment spell around our humble abode. We don’t want any unpleasant surprises.”

 “Great idea on both counts,” Emma agreed. “Hook, you really are quite amazing: A pirate with magic and domestic talents, and ...um...other talents too. I could really get used to this.”

 Killian gave a little bow. “As you wish, my lady.” His lips curved in a slightly lop-sided smile, piercing Emma to her core with its sweetness. Her eyes locked with his, and an unspoken message of love and desire passed between them.

Chapter Text

Henry had finally fallen into a natural slumber, curled up comfortably under the quilts on the sofa. Emma, seated on the floor next to him, her face washed golden by the firelight, looked very peaceful. An empty plate and spoon in her lap attested to Killian’s culinary skills.

“Would you like some more, my love?” the pirate asked her, putting his own empty plate, and Henry’s, in the sink.

“I’m amazed you found enough ingredients on those shelves to make such a delicious stew. But I’m good. Full, actually.”

Killian smiled. “Necessity is the mother of invention.”

Glancing fondly at Henry, Emma said, “He’s sleeping normally, thank God.” After a moment, she added, “I think its time you and I got some shut eye too, Hook.”

“The fire I built in the bedchamber should be going nicely about now, so it will be warm and cozy for you in there,” Killian said. “I’ll take the first watch.”

“Won’t the protection spell you put up around the cabin do that for us?”

Killian hesitated. “To some extent, but I don’t want to take any chances. You take the bedchamber, Swan. I’ll just bunk out here. There are plenty of extra quilts, and I can sleep near the fire on the rug.”

Emma frowned. “If it’s because of Henry…” she began.

Killian shook his head. “Just trying, Swan, to do the right thing. Please, go get some sleep. You need it.”

Emma stood and stared at him for a moment, before slowly, and with obvious reluctance, making her way out of the room. She could feel Killian’s eyes following her, and the sheer force of his desire. Damn it, she needed him. This was no time for the stubborn pirate to act the gentleman.

Killian sighed, and picking up Emma’s plate, carried it to the sink, and put it with the other dishes. This was going to be a long, long night, and not just because it was the Winter Solstice.

Mentally the pirate summoned an extra little frisson of energy to strengthen his protective and concealment spells. Then grabbing one of the extra quilts from the sofa, he wrapped it around himself, and lay down on the rug. He stared moodily into the fire. As the flames flickered and danced, Killian’s eyes grew heavy, and his thoughts slipped back to the past.

Screaming echoed through the encampment, followed by crazed laughter, then a horrible silence. Bodies and the stink of death were everywhere. Killian stared at the carnage, outraged, and sick with disgust. When he realized just what Cora was planning, he had tried to stop her. Sword drawn, he attacked the dark sorceress, but she swatted him aside with a mere wave of her hand, sending him crashing into a retaining wall, and knocking him momentarily unconscious. Afterwards, hands still bloody from her butchery, she ordered the pirate to hide beneath some of the bodies and bits of rubble, and await the arrival of four women. “You will ingratiate yourself with them, I need to know what they know,” she said coldly.

“I will not help you in this,” Killian said.

“Why suddenly so disapproving, Hook? You’ve certainly done your share of killing over the years.”

“Aye, that I have,” he acknowledged. “After all, I am a pirate, not a choir boy.” He gestured toward the horde of silent dead, crowded all around them. “This is different. It’s twisted. Wrong. You murdered them all. Why?”

Her answer was chilling. “Because I can. Now do what I command.”

“I will not.”

“So stubborn.” The sorceress’ expression was filled with malice, and a strange sort of brooding amusement, as if she relished a secret. Some sort of terrible joke, and it was on him. After a moment, she said, “I can make you.”

Killian lifted his head, and glared, fully expecting to soon feel the bitch’s hand rummaging in his chest. “Do your worst.”

She leaned down, and with a serpentine smile, gazed into his eyes. “Bend to my will, Hook, or I kill those women who come, as I did the others.”

“Very well,” he snarled. “But someday, Cora, you will pay for your misdeeds.”

“Perhaps,” she conceded, “but not today, and not by your hand.” Laughing quietly, she glided away.

And so the four women had arrived, three armed warriors, and a gentle princess. But Killian Jones saw no one but the tall blonde, whose beautiful face was grim as she took in the awful slaughter. Around her neck was a simple necklace, an eternity circle on a narrow chain. The glitter of its diamonds seemed somehow familiar. And in the moment that his eyes met hers, something powerful stirred deep within him, a ghostly memory of love and desire.

It was only much later that he would truly remember who Emma Swan was. But from that dark blossoming, surrounded by death, he somehow sensed that they were destined for one another.

Chapter Text

In a dark, cobwebby corner of an obscure little shop, Captain Killian Jones leaned against a huge shelf crowded with ancient books and periodicals, the air musty with the distinctive scent of old paper. He glanced up from the tattered antique volume he was reaching for, and into the most exquisite pair of green eyes that he had ever seen. Those eyes, behind black-rimmed spectacles, were lively with curiosity. The young woman, all of eighteen, her long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, cocked her head, and gave him a sassy smile. “Hey there,” she said softly.

Killian just stared. All of his usual charm and flirtatious banter deserted him. He suddenly felt as if his entire body was on fire, and his heart, long frozen from anger and ancient wounds, was melting in this strange young woman’s glow. Finally, after what seemed like forever, but in reality was only a moment, he stammered hello.

The blonde looked him up and down, her appreciation of his tall handsome form, clad all in black leather, readily apparent. At the sound of his Irish accent, she grinned. “You visiting from Ireland?”

 He nodded. “You could say that.”

“Attending the university?”

“Ah…no,” he replied, and gestured to the book he held. “Merely a student of old and curious relics.”

“Cool.” She stared at the book. “You going to buy that?”

Killian, pirate that he was, had not been planning to, but under the young woman’s scrutiny, thought better of it. With the blonde at his side, he sauntered to the front counter, tossing silver coins at the clerk as he stuffed the book into one of his voluminous coat pockets.

Spontaneously the young woman grabbed Killian’s arm as they pushed through the shop’s front door. “Want to join me for coffee?”

Behind them, the clerk could be distantly heard yelling what the hell and something about antique coins. The pirate and his new companion ignored him, and strolled down the street. “I usually prefer rum, but coffee would be welcome,” Killian said, flashing a smile. “And where shall we acquire this beverage? Is there a pub nearby?”

“Yeah,” the woman said, “But if you want, you can come up to my place, it’s just around the corner. I make a mean cup of coffee.” She suddenly blushed. “God, I don’t usually just pick up guys like this. But there’s something about you…” Her voice trailed off in embarrassment.

“This is an invitation I am most happy to accept, Miss…?”

 “Swan…Emma Swan,” she replied. “And you are?”

 “Killian Jones, at your service, Miss Swan,” the pirate told her, with a courtly bow.

 She laughed delightedly. “Oh, got to love an Irish boy with old fashioned manners.”

 That visit to Emma’s tiny studio apartment had been the first of many.

 She had brewed coffee, and they had sat on her little couch, their shoulders and knees touching, drinking from thick white mugs, talking and flirting as if they had known each other for years. Killian found Emma intelligent and lovely, and despite her rough start in the world, refreshingly optimistic. With hardly two coins to rub together, she insisted that life was what you make of it. In turn, Emma was fascinated by this mysterious stranger, who charmed her with his soft brogue and with every glance from his vibrant blue eyes.

 Finally, and with the greatest reluctance (and only because he knew that if he did not return soon to the Jolly Roger, Cora would eventually come looking for him), Killian made his exit, feeling strangely bereft as he left Emma’s presence.

 Cora had assigned the pirate captain a special task: Find several obscure and ancient magical books that she planned to use to create a curse that would destroy Rumplestiltskin, their mutual foe. With this in mind, she'd released him and the Jolly Roger from the bondage of the force field, to journey to Portland on her behalf. Not fully trusting Killian, she'd also, unfortunately, accompanied him on the voyage. The sorceress made his skin crawl. There was madness and an evil there that disturbed even a hardened pirate such as he.

 But then Emma happened. Forgetting his mission, Killian lied to the sorceress and delayed leaving Portland, all the while pretending he was still searching for the lost books of magic. Soon a month had passed. He knew it was beyond dangerous to keep Cora waiting this long, and tempt fate, but he couldn’t help himself. He had fallen deeply in love with Emma Swan. He adored her intelligence and lively curiosity, and the way her green eyes sparkled when she looked at him. Beautiful and utterly fearless in her pursuit of love, she believed in Killian, even though she barely knew him. Even more incredibly, he found himself believing in her. She gave him hope, something that he'd never experienced with his lost love, Milah.

 With his pirate queen, things had been very different. It had been an affectionate relationship, but he'd always sensed that to Milah, he was simply a means to an end - A projection of her own need for adventure and excitement and a way to escape from her unhappy marriage to Rumplestiltskin. On his part, he found Milah attractive, and admired her fiery spirit, but she was always missing the emotional depths he secretly craved. Only at the very end, had she finally told Killian she loved him. Whatever love he had felt for Milah, he now realized that much of it had been rooted in the tragedy that surrounded her death and the loss of his hand. Killian knew he had never felt the soul deep connection for her that he had instantly felt for Emma Swan.

 As the pirate’s love for Emma grew stronger, his centuries long thirst for vengeance waned. His only desire now was to win his fair Swan’s heart, and escape with her on the Jolly Roger, far from Cora and her dark scheming, and from his own unhappy past. In his wanderings, Killian had heard rumors of a secret kingdom hidden in the Himalayas that offered sanctuary to those in need. Perhaps, together, he and Emma could find this place.

 Killian spent every spare hour he could with Emma. They wandered the city, hand in hand, enjoying quaint cafes and coffee houses, taking leisurely strolls through the winding streets and parks. After such jaunts, they returned to Emma’s apartment. There the two prepared simple meals or enjoyed wine and conversation, as they listened to Emma's collection of vintage rock and blues music, which Killian was discovering he had a taste for. They would kiss, exploring each others' bodies with increasing passion, each time becoming more intimate. If Emma was curious why her new friend never stayed the night or took her home to his place, she didn’t mention it, simply accepting that he was now part of her life.

One night Killian arrived at her door a trifle late, eyes sparkling with mischief, and holding something in his hand.

“You didn’t have to bring anything, Killian,” Emma said, welcoming him with a kiss as he stepped inside the apartment.

 “Lovely Swan,” he murmured, handing the plain canvas sack to her.

 Emma stared curiously at it. “Shall I open it now or after dinner?”

 “Whenever you wish.”

 She grinned, and like an eager child, opened the bag and peered inside. “What’s this?” Emma pulled out a necklace. It was very beautiful, a simple pendant of faceted stones glittering in an eternity circle, suspended from a thin platinum chain. “Oh my God…Are those…real diamonds?”

 “Indeed they are,” Killian said. “Do you like it?” and was promptly rewarded with another kiss.

 “Yes, yes, I love it, thank you! But, Killian…you can’t afford this, can you? Tell me you didn’t do anything stupid, like max out your credit cards or rob a jewelry store.”

 The pirate smiled. “No, nothing like that, I assure you.” For a brief moment, he wondered what Emma would make of the many illegal treasures he and his crew had looted over the centuries. But this necklace was something quite different. He would not cheapen his love for her with stolen trinkets. In a low voice, he added, “It belonged to my mother, the only thing I ever had of her. She died giving me birth.”

 Emma’s eyes widened. “Oh, Killian.”

 With infinite tenderness, the pirate took the necklace from her and placed it around her neck. As he did so, he leaned down and kissed the side of her throat. “But you’ll have to fasten it yourself," he said sadly. “Alas, I can’t quite manage it.” And he held up his gloved prosthetic left hand.

 “How did you lose it, Killian?”

 He was silent for a moment, recalling the pain and anguish of that long ago day. “A very old enemy was responsible. He…uh…caused the accident that took my hand. It’s rather painful for me to discuss.”

 Emma reached up and fastened the necklace. “I’m so sorry, Killian. I didn’t mean to bring up bad old memories.”

 “It’s all right.” He looked down at the false hand and shook his head. “ But I understand if you find it repellant.”

 Gazing intently into his eyes, Emma kissed him. “Never say that. You’re beautiful, Killian, all of you, inside and out. And… I love you.”

 His smile, when it came, was like the sun breaking through clouds. “Swan…my own Swan.” He pulled her possessively to him, pressing his mouth hungrily against hers. Her lips opened to him like a flower and their tongues entwined. She tasted of spices and freedom, and everything good that had ever been denied him. He forgot his hurts, his anger and his vengeance. He even forgot Milah. Nothing mattered but now and this loving and true hearted young woman he held in his arms.

 Still kissing, Killian and Emma backed toward her bed, and together, fell upon it. In moments, they had removed each other’s clothes, all the while kissing and caressing every inch of bare skin in reach. Breathing heavily, his naked body pressed tightly against Emma’s, and mere inches from entering paradise, Killian suddenly hesitated. “Swan,” he whispered hoarsely. “I won’t do anything you don’t want.” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes in an attempt to master his passion.

 Gentle fingers traced the elegant curve of his cheekbones. “I want you, Killian, I need you…now.”

 Killian’s eyes opened and he stared into Emma’s, drowning in those jade depths. “I love you,” he said, and urged by Emma’s cries of passion, pressed into her warm, yielding core. He felt the barrier as he pushed deeper, heard her little moan of pain, felt her stiffen, and suddenly realized she was a virgin. He slowed, wanting to be gentle, to make this first time for her as comfortable and soothing as possible. But Emma would have none of that. She was aroused, moving with him, slowly at first, and then more fiercely, their joined bodies fitting together perfectly.

 And as they loved, light sparkled around them, colors constantly shifting, from the deep green of an ocean wave, to sunset shades of cerise, turquoise, and gold, luminous with flickering tendrils of magic, all merging one into the other. They rocked back and forth, lips devouring, bodies burning with need. As they both shuddered to an intense climax, the light exploded around them, almost blinding in its brilliance. But neither of the lovers seemed to notice the phenomena, so deeply were they entranced by each other.

 Later, comfortably satiated, and still lounging in bed, Killian and Emma enjoyed a simple repast of bread and fresh fruit. Smiling teasingly, Emma popped a slice of peach into Killian’s mouth, then leaned forward, the eternity necklace dangling high above her breasts, and gave him a long, lingering kiss. He pulled her into an embrace, staring intently into her face, trying to memorize every lovely feature. “You didn’t tell me this was your first time. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

 “I’m fine, just a little sore.” Emma grinned. “It was perfect…everything I’d ever imagined or dreamed of. You are everything I ever dreamed of.”

 His arms tightened around her and he laid his head on her shoulder, their faces close. “I love you, Swan. Never forget that.”

 “As if,” she told him, planting a trail of kisses along his chiseled jaw line. “I love you too.”

 Emma finally excused herself and headed to the bathroom. When she returned a little later, she was disturbed to see that her lover was fully dressed and readying himself to leave.  “Killian…I thought this time you would spend the night."

 Taking her hand in his, the pirate was silent for a moment. “Swan, I want to, but I can’t. I’ve been too long tonight as it is.”

 “What’s so important that you can’t stay?” She sounded hurt.

 More silence, then he spoke, his voice ragged. “I have to go back to work, Swan.” It was not exactly a lie. He was reluctant to spend all night with Emma because his sorceress “employer”, who slept away much of each day, became active at night, vampire-like bitch that she was. And he would not risk her coming to look for him and discovering Emma.

 “You never did tell me what you do for a living.”

 “It’s hard to explain.” He hesitated. “I work security.” Another lie. Gods, he hated lying to her.

 “Are you going back to her?” Emma suddenly asked, pulling her hand away.

 Killian was mystified. “What do you mean?”

 “Milah. The woman whose name is tattooed on your arm. Who is she?”

 “She was my lover,” he answered flatly. “She died.”

 “I’m sorry, Killian.”

 “Don’t be,” he said, and took her hand again. “It was all over a very long time ago.” His clear blue eyes stared intently into hers. “Swan, there is no one else in my life but you. Please don’t be upset. I give you my word that I’ll return tomorrow.” His face, usually so mobile with laughter and jest, was deadly serious. “I love you, Emma Swan. My heart and soul belong to you, only you. And I will always return to you."

She nodded. “All right then.” And with a last fierce kiss, she pushed him out the door.

Chapter Text

Killian could hear Emma's quiet sobbing as he walked down the dingy hallway of the apartment building toward the stairs. His heart was breaking, but he would not risk her safety. The longer he stayed with her every night, the more likely the accursed Cora would discover his subterfuge. The thought of his beloved in the grasp of the depraved sorceress was almost more than he could bear.

And that wasn’t the only problem. Despite their growing intimacy and ease with one another, Killian had yet to tell Emma the truth about himself. Perhaps tomorrow would finally be the right time to do so. Would she think him mad? Her world did not believe in such as he, a pirate with a violent and tragic past, and a magical ship that could sail between worlds. Still, he knew that regardless of the consequences, he owed Swan the truth.

Killian's return to the Jolly Roger was not a happy one. The sorceress, coldly furious, was pacing back and forth on the pier, impatiently twirling that ridiculous lace parasol of hers, an odd affectation that she insisted on using day or night.

Angrily, she followed him aboard. “Hook, have you found any more of the magic books?”

The pirate shook his head. Cora’s expression, dark as a thundercloud, was alarming, and he was glad he'd taken the time to put his hook back in place. It might give him some advantage if she suddenly rushed him.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time in that be-damned city, and except for the one book, you have discovered nothing of what I seek. Why, I wonder, is that?” Her tone was acid.

Killian roused his old bravado and sketched a bow in her direction. “Well, Milady, ‘tis a city that is loathe to give up its secrets. But I continue the search daily.” He shrugged. “Eventually something will turn up. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Indeed.” Cora’s eyes were icy, narrowed with suspicion, her voice oozing contempt. “Strange that I give you a seeking device for just such a purpose as locating magical treasure, and yet it has proved such a failure.”

“It did locate the one book,” Killian reminded her.

She frowned. “I don’t trust you, pirate. Give me back the device.” And she held out her hand.

He took the glowing purple orb from his pocket and dropped it into her waiting palm, careful not to touch her. He found any touch of the sorceress utterly repellant. And it bothered him, the way her eyes sometimes followed and clung to him, sticky as cobwebs, when they stood close together. She was that way tonight, as if her anger at him stirred something else, an unspoken invitation that he refused to acknowledge. “And how do you expect me to discover your other tomes if you have the device,” he finally said. “Are you planning to come into the city yourself and search?”

“Such work is beneath me,” Cora said loftily. “You’re resourceful, Hook, I’m sure you’ll manage, device or no device. Best you make sure that you find what I want…and soon.” She stepped closer to him, peering into his face. “Come below with me to my cabin.” Her smile, meant to be flirtatious, was truly dreadful.

“I think not, Milady,” he replied coldly. “Our "business arrangement" does not include that particular proviso.” Abruptly he turned and walked away toward the bow of his ship.

“You will regret that, pirate,” Cora muttered, but even so, she continued to watch him, unable to tear her fascinated gaze away.

Chapter Text

The next evening, Killian took a long and circuitous route to Emma’s home in order to foil any attempt to follow him. His conversation with Cora the night before did not bode well. She had not returned the seeking device and he worried that she would use it to spy on him. He resolved to tell Swan the truth tonight and persuade her to escape with him, while he worked on a plan to vanquish Cora and retake his ship.

Emma tore open her door, even as the pirate was reaching to knock on it. “Killian!”

“I told you I’d be back, Swan,” he said, embracing her. “I will always return to you.”

“Damn it, you better, Killian.” She kissed him as she pulled him into the apartment.

Emma bustled about, making coffee, setting out plates with croissants and cheese, while Killian, seated on the couch, watched somberly. “Swan, we have no time for this. We need to leave, and now.”

“What do you mean, Killian? You just got here.”

“Swan, I have something to confess to you,” he began.

She sat beside him, putting her index finger against his lips. “Killian, whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it. I love you, and you love me, that’s all that matters.”

His eyes were shadowed with ancient sorrow. “Yes, Swan, that is all that matters. But still, the truth must be told. I owe it to you.”

And so he told her, without emotion and without deception - every horror, every villainy, every love, anger, sorrow and loss, all the impossibilities of a pirate’s long and preternaturally extended life. Through it all, Emma listened silently, her expression unreadable. At the end, Killian bowed his head, accepting that she would leave him, thinking him insane. Perhaps it was for the best. He was not worthy of her, and this way, she would always be safe from Cora and his other enemies. Disconsolate, he stared at the floor. Finally Emma spoke. “You’re the Captain Hook? The one from the fairy tale?”

“You've heard of me? But yes, alas, I am he. Or so my foes have dubbed me.” He extended his left arm. In his anxiety to reach Emma, he had forgotten the false hand. “I usually wear a hook.”

In reply, Emma reached out and slowly peeled back his shirtsleeve. Her skin felt warm against his. Leaning down, she gently kissed the smooth end of his stump. “You’re mine,” she told him fiercely. “That’s all that counts, Killian. Whether your tale is real, or not, I don’t know, I don’t care, although something tells me there’s truth in what you say. All I know is I love you.”

A tear coursed down Killian’s cheek, pearl in the gathering darkness of the room. “Swan, Swan, my bold wonderful lass, you're amazing.” He laughed shakily, and reaching out, gently caressed the delicate skin just above her heart. The heart she had just willingly and unreservedly given to him, a pirate.

“Promise me, Killian, promise me, that no matter what, we’ll always be together.”

“I promise.” He took her hand in his. “Marry me, Emma Swan. Say yes and let us never be parted.”

Emma's eyes met his. “Yes, my answer is yes!”

With something akin to reverence, Killian kissed her and gently pulled her to her feet. “And now, my darling, we really must leave. It’s dangerous. Pack a bag quickly and let us be off.”

She nodded and took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Suddenly, clouds of dark purple smoke billowed into the room. From its depths, Killian heard deranged laughter, as he stared up at his worst nightmare.

Cora hovered in the smoke, a smile of pure evil on her face. “Oh, Captain, now I see what you’ve been playing at, betraying me and our cause for dalliance with this mortal girl.” She tilted her head, studying the lovers with poisonous amusement.

Emma screamed, as Killian shoved her behind him, at the same time reaching into his coat pocket and drawing forth his steel hook. It glinted dully in the darkness. Quickly he clicked it into place, ready to do battle.

“You’ll need more than that to defeat me, Hook,” Cora chided.

“Take me, leave the lass!” Killian yelled. “She's innocent and has nothing to do with our quarrel.” He lunged at the sorceress with his hook, but she just laughed and floated out of range.

“Oh my God…It’s all real, “ Emma cried, her voice wild with terror. “You really are Captain Hook.”

Cora snickered. “You must truly love the wench, Hook, to actually tell her the truth. I never would have taken you for such a romantic. And you offer her marriage too.” Licking her narrow lips, she stared at him. “Lucky girl to get yummy you all to herself.” She shook her head. “But why should the two of you have a happy ending? Certainly, I never did."

“If you harm Swan,” the pirate threatened, “ I'll never rest until I hunt you down and destroy you.” He smiled grimly. “And I promise your dying will be long and very painful.”

“Ah, Hook, in a few moments, you and your precious girl won’t remember any of this.”

“Run, Swan!” Killian shouted, pushing Emma toward the apartment door. “Run and don’t look back!”

Emma took a step toward freedom, then turned and looked back at the pirate. "No, I won't leave you!"

"You must," Killian said. "Never mind me, just go!"

Grinning, Cora flicked a torrent of smoke over the doors and windows, magically sealing them all in place. “Oh no, Hook, your pretty girl won’t escape me that easily.” She drifted nearer, sending more smoke toward Emma, attempting to snag her.

Emma skittered quickly back to Killian, who reached out and pulled her protectively behind him. “Who are you?” she screamed at Cora. “Get the hell out! Leave Killian alone! Leave us alone!”

Cora gazed at her with what almost seemed like pity. “I knew once what it was to love like that. But these things never work out.” She raised her arms above her head and started to chant, the purple smoke growing thicker and thicker as her voice rose.

With a muttered oath, Killian lunged again at the sorceress. He knew better than to aim for her heart (she had none), instead using all his strength to plunge his hook directly into her throat. Cora’s chanting abruptly stopped, as she stared at the steel hook buried in her windpipe. He pushed the hook in deeper, and with a vicious twist, pulled it up and out. But no blood gushed forth, and to his shock, Cora's gaping wound closed up immediately, as if it had never been.

“My Gods, you’re like the Dark One!” he cried, stepping quickly backwards and out of her reach.

“The Dark One?” For one brief moment, an expression of ineffable sorrow shadowed Cora’s face. “Oh yes, Hook, I am like the Dark One, more than you can ever know. And you can’t kill me, no one can!” With a sneer, she resumed her chanting. Purple shadows crept up the walls and across the floor, snaking ominously across the room toward Killian and Emma, blotting out the light.

Killian reached down into his boot top, pulling out the small dagger he always kept hidden there for emergencies. He threw it at Cora’s head, but the knife passed harmlessly through her, as if through glass. Desperately he pulled the terrified Emma across the room, shielding her with his body, and trying to keep as much distance as possible between them and the sorceress. Glaring his defiance, he grabbed the last weapon he'd concealed on his person - a short folding sword. To the uninitiated, it appeared to be a telescope. He pressed the mechanism with his finger, and the deadly blade emerged, its tip razor sharp.

The pirate stormed Cora, his hook and the sword aimed toward her head in a whirling, glittering arc of destructive power. If he could cut off the bitch’s head, surely even she could not survive that. The sword sliced into Cora’s neck like it was butter. Instantly, her head toppled from her body, and with a sickening thud, bounced to the floor. As if from a distance, Killian could hear Emma screaming. No blood poured from the sorceress. Her body, grotesque in its mutilation, remained standing, still swaying slightly. Repulsed, Killian raised his sword to administer another blow, and as he did so, Cora’s head flew up and settled itself onto her ruined neck.

“Oh, my fine pirate, you'll pay for your insolence,” Cora hissed, rubbing her throat. She pointed a finger at the lovers. Her voice rose, shrill in its malevolence. “I curse you, Killian Jones and Emma Swan, never more to know or remember the other again!” The sorceress grinned. “Back to the Enchanted Forest you go, Hook, where you will stay, frozen in time, until I have need again for your services. And when you awaken, you will not remember Emma Swan or your love for her. Nor will you ever know the true love’s child she has conceived with you.”

At his incredulous stare, she chuckled. “Yes, Hook, she carries your child.” A flick of her hand sent tentacles of smoke, thick and curdled as spoiled milk, reaching for him.

Moving like lightning, the pirate dodged the weaving smoke, and sword still extended, backed away to the other side of the room, where he joined Emma. He wrapped his free arm around his lover, and pulled her close. Emma's nerves were stretched to the breaking point. "Killian!" she cried. “What's she talking about? Curses, pregnancy…she’s crazy…this is all crazy! How can she know these things? How can she live? You chopped her fucking head off!”

“I will take your lover from you, girl!” Cora declared triumphantly. “And you won’t remember him any more than he remembers you. You will think your pirate was just a dream. And when the child he gave you is finally born, you will falsely believe another man to be its father. Your life will be filled with betrayal and hardship, sorrow and distrust. And you will always feel empty, for deep down you will know that something…or should I say…someone…is missing.”

She turned toward Killian, adding maliciously, “As will you, pirate.”

“Kill me if you must, you heartless bitch,” Killian roared. “But don’t harm Swan and our child!”

The sorceress stared at him. “But Hook, I can’t help being heartless!” And she laughed, as if at some old and very bitter private joke. “But I’ll grant you both one small boon, just for old time’s sake. Should you and the girl ever find each other again, True Love’s Kiss, amnesia or not, will break the spell. But after the life I’ve cursed Emma Swan with, I doubt she will ever be capable of loving you again, even if you should chance to meet.” She shrugged carelessly. “But I suppose anything is possible.”

As the smoke overwhelmed them, Emma was flung backwards out of Killian's arms. Desperately, he reached for her, but his hand had become transparent, and to his horror, insubstantial as mist on water.

Tears streaming down her face, Emma watched in horror as her lover's body wavered, merging into the smoke. "Killian!"

“I love you, Emma Swan." Killian's voice was starting to fade, like the distant echo of the wind, or a whispered dream. “Be strong, my brave lass. I will always love you, curse or no curse. And I will not forget you. Somehow I will remember. Nothing will stop me from finding you and our child. I'll come back to you, Swan - I give you my promise!”

“A pirate’s promise,” Cora scoffed.

The last thing Killian heard as the curse snatched him away was Emma, calling out his name, over and over again.

Chapter Text

Emma sat bolt upright in bed. For a moment, in the shadowed darkness of the room, she was completely disoriented. Wildly, she glanced about. The only light came from the glowing embers of the fire. She was alone in the cabin’s bedchamber.

There! What was that? She thought she heard a voice calling to her, filled with anguish; only it wasn’t truly audible, it was as if she was feeling it in her soul. Hook!

Quickly she threw back the bed covers, and wearing just a gray tank top and bikini bottoms, rushed into the main room of the cabin. There, she found Henry still asleep on the sofa, and Killian lying nearby on the floor. He was also sleeping, but it wasn’t peaceful. He was thrashing a bit, and moaning softly.

She bent over him, and shook his shoulder. “Hook, wake up, wake up, it’s okay, I’m here.”

After a moment, the pirate came to his senses. He stared at her, and with a trembling hand, reached up and touched her face. “Swan.”

“What’s wrong, Hook?” Emma whispered.

He shook his head. “Just a nightmare. Go back to bed, Swan. I’m all right now. I guess I must have dozed off.”

“That’s it, you’re coming to bed with me, and no argument," she replied. "Henry’s still out like a light, so no worries there. And your protection and concealment spells are obviously working fine, so you don’t need to stay out here on your own, playing the martyr.”

Killian chuckled ruefully. “I guess I was more tired than I thought, the after burn of using all that magic. Sorry I make such a poor watchman.”

"The hell with that," she said. “Come on, Hook.”

“Very well, Swan.” Flinging aside the quilt, he stood, and followed her into the bedchamber.

Quietly, he closed and bolted the door, and turned around to face Emma, who had a pleased little smile on her face.

Killian smirked. “Well, here we are.”

“Yeah, here we are.” Getting into bed, she huddled under the covers, and with decided impatience, motioned for him to join her.

The pirate kicked off his boots, and removed his belt and sheathed sword. These he laid close by, as he didn't like to be too far from his blade. His wounded arm ached. Still clad in his heavy leather coat, and the rest of his black attire, he unearthed his flask, and hastily took a sip. "Care for a drink, Swan?"

She shook her head. "You are such a tease, Hook. Come to bed...please."

Tilting his head to one side, the pirate gave her a slow, burning smile, and put the rum away. "As you wish."

With a bit of swagger, he stripped off the rest of his clothing, letting it all fall to the floor. He could feel Emma’s eyes following his every move. “Enjoying it, are we, Swan?” he asked playfully.

"Yes." So much feeling in one little word.

His naked body, gleaming in the dim firelight, was trim and athletic, and Emma longed to touch him. Wordlessly she held out her arms.

Killian climbed into bed, and pulled Emma close to him, covering her eager mouth with his.

After a moment, he held up his left arm, which still wore the steel hook. "I suppose I should remove this," he said. "Don't want to accidentally scratch you, my love."

Emma smiled wickedly. "Oh, you're always very careful, I think it will be okay. Besides, it's sexy. You're sexy."

"You are one kinky girl, Emma Swan," Killian said. Very, very gently, through the fabric of her shirt, he delicately traced the shape of her breasts, with the tip of his hook.

She shivered.

Raising one dark brow, the pirate captain smirked. "Hmmm...but you're still dressed, Swan. We really must do something about that."

Chapter Text

Much later, Killian and Emma lay entwined in each other's arms. Sex that night had been especially wild and intense, as if each were trying to imprint their soul on the other. Afterwards, he had finally removed the hook, because he did not want to roll over in his sleep, and hurt her.

The fire was dying down, but it was still warm in the room, and sweat pearled on their skin from their lovemaking.

“Happy, Swan?” Killian asked, tenderly stroking her long, pale hair.

 “Mmmmm.” Emma sighed blissfully.

 “Me too.” And then, with a touch of mischief, he added, “You really like my hook, eh?”

 She turned and stared at him, then grinned. “Oh yes.” She ran her fingers down his chest, possessively digging her nails into his skin. “You know, when I was a kid, I used to read that fairy tale about Pan and Captain Hook all the time. It was my favorite. I couldn’t get enough of it. And I kept reading it too, even after I was long grown up.”

 “Why is that?”

 “Well, I never did like Pan, or the Lost Boys. But I sure loved Captain Hook. He was just doing his thing, being a pirate, and the rotten kid cut off his hand, and fed it to the crocodile. That made me so damned mad. I had such a horrible life that I empathized with Hook, who was so outcast and unloved, just like me. Weird, huh?”

 “Not so weird, Swan. I understand,” he said gently. “Of course, the book got it all wrong. Things happened quite differently, as you know. But I think that somehow my story resonated through the worlds, although it got distorted through the transition, and was transformed into a fairy tale.”

 Emma snuggled closer to him.

 Killian continued, “That said, perhaps there was another reason you identified with the story’s Captain Hook. Because on some level you remembered me, who I really was, and what we’d been to each other.”

 “How is that possible, Hook?” Emma said. “We didn’t meet until I was eighteen, in that bookshop. And then Cora cursed us both to forget, and we didn’t see each other again for eleven years. Until I was sucked into that portal with Mary Margaret, and ended up back in the Enchanted Forest.”

 In a low voice, she added, “I didn’t even remember who you were when we pulled you out from under those bodies. But on some fundamental level, perhaps on a soul level, I knew you. It disturbed me at the time that I could feel something so…overwhelming…for a complete stranger.”

 “During my travels,” he said slowly, “I heard many strange tales. That we all live over and over again, different lives, different bodies, memories buried, but always the same person. Rather like a curse, but not. And that each one of us has a soul mate, the one individual with whom we share a love and connection so deep, so unbreakable, that we will find each other again and again, no matter how time and the world has changed us.”

 “Reincarnation?” Emma nodded. “Yes, I’ve heard of that. You think that’s the case with us, Hook?”

“I do, Swan.” His deep blue eyes, filled with love, gazed into hers. “It may be that this soul connection is why we both felt so powerfully our first meeting in Portland. And why, despite her best efforts with the curse, Cora could not keep us apart indefinitely, nor fully extinguish our love and memory of each other.”

 “It does make sense,” she replied. “Every time I’ve encountered you, I’ve always felt such a powerful attraction, like the moon with the tides. Do you think we’ll ever know who we were in those other lives, or what worlds we lived in?”

He caressed her shoulders. “Maybe, someday. But if not, it doesn’t really matter. The most important thing is who we are now, and that we love each other and are together, where we belong.”

 “Two curses, Hook. And another year forced to be apart. That’s a lot to endure for one couple.” She sat up, the covers sliding forward, and stared into his lean, shadowed face. “I will not be separated from you again.”

 “Nor I from you, beloved.” He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. "But we live dangerous lives, you and I. We cannot predict what may happen in the future."

Emma sighed. "I know. But that doesn't mean I have to like it.”

Gently she traced the narrow scar on his cheek. "We haven't had it easy, have we, Hook? It's been quite a roller coaster ride." She paused, caught in a memory. "When I abandoned you at the giant’s castle, and climbed back down that damned beanstalk, I felt as if I’d betrayed the love of my life. I couldn't understand why I felt that way about someone I’d just barely met, and I certainly didn’t share my true thoughts with the others.”

 She leaned into his embrace, taking comfort in his warmth and the solid reality of his body. “I’m so sorry I left you back there.”

 “It’s all right, Swan. You did what you had to do. I was angry at the time, of course, because I was already falling in love with you.” He kissed her. “But you know I forgive you. More importantly, you must forgive yourself.”

 For a moment, the pirate was silent. Finally he said, “All through those first days in the Enchanted Forest and Storybrooke, as I struggled with my own feelings and repressed memories, my actions were just as erratic as yours. I was confused and conflicted. But I knew when I offered to switch allegiance to you that it felt right, that I belonged with you. Every time we parted, I felt as if my soul and heart had been torn asunder. And each time we met again, I was filled with a strange joy and longing that I couldn’t understand, but wanted to embrace.”

 Laying his hand over hers, where it rested above his heart, he added, “Even that awful time at Lake Nostros, when we dueled. All I really wanted was to make love to you not fight you. At the time, though, Swan, I just muttered the most appalling sexual innuendos, for which I now humbly apologize.”

 “I forgive you.” Emma cocked her head, and smiled crookedly at him. “I remember at the time feeling something similar. That instead of attacking each other, we should have been side by side, fighting together against Cora. I didn’t really know why, but it just felt so wrong to be battling you.” She hesitated. “But I have a little confession to make.”

 “Yes, my darling?”

 “You weren’t the only one harboring sexual fantasies that day,” Emma said. “You are one hot badass pirate, Hook.” She pressed a kiss to his bare chest. “Yeah, I wanted to throw you to the sand, and make love to you, right then and there.”

 Killian laughed, and drew her close. “Ah, Swan, what a pair we make.”

Emma was finally asleep. He could hear her soft breathing in the fire-limned darkness of the room. 

Quietly, so as not to disturb her, Killian got out of bed. The room was chilly. Throwing on shirt, trousers, and his leather coat, he replenished the fire in the stove, and went to check on Henry and the protective spells.

The pirate stood before the fireplace, watching his child sleep, and marveling that this bright, perceptive youngster was theirs. Thank the gods that the lad was all right. Soon he and Swan would tell Henry that he was their son. It would not be easy, but they owed him the truth. It was just a matter of deciding the right time. He would discuss it with Emma when she awakened.

 He added wood to the dying fire, wanting to keep the room as warm as possible for Henry. Moving to the window, he stared out into the darkness. Snow was falling heavily, and he could hear the wind rattling around the eaves of the cabin.

 Bowing his head, Killian summoned his magic, sending his consciousness outward to check the wards. Good. They were holding, so they still had some time here before they must move on.

 But where was here? He felt that same nagging sense of familiarity that Emma had mentioned. In it’s own way, this wintry night reminded him of another place of darkness. A place he never wished to see again. Neverland.

Chapter Text

In the perpetual night of Neverland, Killian had brought her father back to them, safe and healed, from that hidden wild place high on the cliffs.

Later, David had told Emma that he believed the pirate had done it all for her. While she had to acknowledge the truth of that, she nevertheless felt that somehow, here on this unholy island, Killian had rediscovered his own innate goodness, so long buried under anger and heartbreak.

She had gone to him to give thanks. In the darkness of the jungle, staring up into his beautiful sad eyes, Emma felt something stir within her, something that was far, far more than mere gratitude. With a sudden ferocity, and a possessive longing that surprised even her, Emma pulled the pirate captain to her, and kissed him full on the lips. Her hands tangled in his dark hair, and dug into the leather of his coat, she couldn’t get enough of him.

And in that exact moment, simultaneously, the cursed veil of forgetfulness, so long drawn tight over their memories, loosened its strangle hold, finally broken. A barrage of disjointed images and emotions assaulted their senses, until both were almost reeling from the sheer intensity.

Emma, stunned, drew away from Killian, and stared. He was just as overcome as she, his hand flying to his lips. With an expression of confused awareness, he stared back at her.

Almost staggering from the aftermath of the kiss, Emma stepped back, and in a blatant attempt at denial, told the pirate that it was just a “one time thing”. But even as she said it, she knew it was a lie, and she knew that he knew it too.

In their spare moments, such as they were, Killian and Emma would linger at the outskirts of the camp, taking solace in each other's presence, or companionably sharing their sparse rations. Here, just out of earshot of their companions, they would also talk late into the night, trying to bridge the long gap of years.

With their memories came the knowledge of Henry’s real lineage. He was their child, conceived in true love and magic, his paternal origin kept secret, even from them, by Cora’s curse. That they had lost so much time as a family was a bitter pill for both of them to swallow.

During one of their private conversations, Emma started to cry. The pirate wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close, trying to comfort her. He listened quietly as she told of how, shortly after the curse was enacted, she had met Neal and become involved with him, and of his subsequent betrayal of her to the authorities. And how later, abandoned and imprisoned, she had given birth to a child, hers and Killian's, and how that child was given up, to eventually be adopted by Regina.

Killian’s mouth tightened, heartbreak and rage crashing over him in bitter waves. If the sorceress had not already been dead, he would have gladly killed her himself, many times over. He was rather sorry that he would never enjoy that privilege.

Regarding Neal, the pirate’s thoughts, while not exactly murderous, were nevertheless far from benign. Wisely, he kept these to himself, not wanting to cause any further upset to Emma. Instead, he offered his beloved the strength and warmth of his embrace, and all the tenderness of his soul.

Like all survivors of curses, Killian and Emma kept that peculiar split consciousness, remembering their pre-curse selves, as well as the unhappy lives they had lived apart from each other. They said nothing of any of this to their companions, but their increasing closeness and rapport was nevertheless noticed, and remarked upon, and not always pleasantly.

Regina, for one, was certainly aware of Killian and Emma's interest in one another. She couldn't resist making a couple of snarky comments to the blonde about her pirate "boyfriend", and how he "pined" over her.

While Emma ignored such remarks, Killian made no attempt to hide his feelings around the others. He wore his heart on his sleeve, staring at Emma with open adoration, his voice when he spoke to her soft and caressing. At every turn, he offered her his support, loyalty, and knowledge, staying protectively near, and tirelessly volunteering his sword and assistance for every dangerous mission that arose.

On one such mission, Killian, Emma, and her parents descended to a deep cavern, a forbidding place where each of their group had to share a private and secret truth in order to rescue the imprisoned Neal. When the pirate’s turn came, his confession about “second chances” for love held a double meaning known only to him and Emma. But his words, spoken with utter sincerity, also made it clear to any who listened that it was Emma to whom he gave his ardent devotion.

After the rescue, Killian, always forthright in matters of the heart, wasted no time in throwing down the gauntlet with Neal. Assuming that Emma had told his rival about their kiss and growing intimacy, he mentioned it to the other man, and in no uncertain terms, made his intentions regarding her crystal clear. Understandably, Neal was less than thrilled with the news, his own competitive instincts aroused. As a result, the atmosphere between the two men was uncomfortably charged.

But the one who was most disturbed by Emma’s growing closeness with the pirate captain was her mother, Mary Margaret. She questioned Emma on her involvement with him, attempting to dissuade her, even to the extent of encouraging her to get back together with Neal.

Outwardly calm as she listened to her mother, Emma was secretly furious. Her love for Killian was fierce and unshakable, and she bitterly resented her mother’s interference, as well as her underlying attitude of royal snobbery.

David, who had grown to like, and even admire Killian, and who came from more humble origins himself, was a bit more open, but still protective of his daughter. Mostly, he just didn’t want her to be hurt.

But none of this really mattered.

Even cursed, Emma and her captain had been falling in love with one another from the first moment they were re-united in the Enchanted Forest. The breaking of the spell, and the return of their memories, only served to strengthen that bond.

One evening, the two of them managed to steal away from camp, and the prying eyes of their companions. Finally alone, surrounded only by the tropical wilderness, they made love for the first time in eleven years. Light flared around them as their bodies and souls merged, finally whole. Even the malevolent Pan, elsewhere on the island, felt the intense blast of magical energy, and wondered greedily where this source of magic was.

Afterwards, the lovers sat close together, shadowed in moonlight. Emma affectionately trailed a finger down the pirate’s chiseled nose to his lips. “Hook,” she whispered. “We can’t tell anyone about us, or Henry just yet."

“Beloved,” he replied, “ I think it’s already too late to keep our relationship secret.” He had seen the probing looks, and heard the whispers.

“Maybe so, but guessing is not knowing. At the moment, I think it would just complicate things. Too much upset, you know how they all are. It might distract them from focusing on what’s important: Henry and his rescue.”

The pirate was silent for a moment. While he longed to declare his love for Swan to the entire world, devil take the consequences, what she said made sense. He had a sick feeling that demon spawn Pan was planning something truly horrendous for Henry. Their son must be rescued, and soon. Later, when it was all over, there would be time for the truth.

Besides, Swan asked this of him. His sword, as well as his heart, was hers to command. “Aye,” he finally said. “We say nothing until our lad is safe with us again.”

“Thank you, Hook. " Her voice was low, and full of emotion.

In the velvety darkness, he felt her reach for him, her long hair falling softly against his face, her lips pliant and warm against his own.

Chapter Text

The sky was still dark, but it would be light soon. Killian, fully dressed, sat on the edge of the bed, and gently shook Emma’s shoulder, awakening her.

She smiled at him, her expression sleepy.

“We need to ready ourselves, Swan,” the pirate said. “The wards are still holding, but I can feel something poking at the edges, trying to find a weak spot.”

Emma sat up, and with an abrupt movement, jumped out of bed, and grabbed at her clothes, scattered here and there on the hardwood floor. Hurriedly she started to dress. “You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long!”

“You needed it, and your magic needed it. We must leave this place soon, and return to New York and regain the Jolly Roger. And for that to happen, we need to be able to form and transverse the portal without succumbing this time to unconsciousness.”

Emma wrapped her coat around herself and stared at him. “That means a lot of magic, Hook. And we have no device to use as a focal point.”

“Oh, but we do, Swan.” He stood, and gestured to the eternity necklace, sparkling around her throat.

Her hand flew to the pendant. “This?”

The pirate nodded. “Yes. The necklace stayed with you, even through Cora’s curse. And as my true love gift to you, it has great personal significance to us both. That gives it tremendous magical power that we can harness to our purpose. We just need to be-spell it to be our focal point.”

“Makes sense,” she replied. “But Hook, this is just so damned bizarre.” Her hands raked nervously through her long, tangled hair. “This world, this cabin, I don’t even understand why we landed here, or where we are. Yet it seems so familiar.”

“It’s familiar to me too. And I think I have figured out why, Swan.”

“Yeah?”

He put his arm around Emma, and kissed her. “It’s that past life connection we discussed.”

She nodded.

“When we raised the portal, we both imagined a place of safety to flee to. Our magic and love created it out of whole cloth, a sort of miniature universe that mirrors one of our past lives. This world, and this cabin are a distorted memory of a place that was once our home and sanctuary in some long ago life and world. This is why it seems so familiar to both of us.”

“Déjà vu?”

“Exactly,” he replied. “But since it’s our magical construct, it reflects not only the past, but also incorporates some modern amenities, such as you experienced in your life back in the land without magic. When we leave, I suspect this place will simply wink out of existence.”

“This is all so strange,” Emma murmured.

“Indeed it is, beloved.” Reassuringly, he caressed her shoulder. “But when have our lives not been strange?”

Emma sighed. “Point taken. But you think we could have at least created somewhere warm to flee to.”

"Indeed, Swan." The pirate smiled faintly. “But obviously our souls remembered this place as sanctuary, despite the winter climate.”

“I guess so. Is Henry up yet?”

“Yes, he’s eating breakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

“Tinned soup heated over the fire. Not exactly bacon and eggs, but it will do.”

“What now, Hook?”

He stared at the eternity necklace. “First things first. We merge our magic and turn the necklace into our focal point.”

“And how do we do that?”

“Place your hand upon it, and I will do the same. Close your eyes, and concentrate. Think of us, of our love, of Henry. Then visualize our magical energy infusing the necklace, tuned only to us, as our focal point. That should do it.”

Emma took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said. “But what if it doesn’t work?”

“It will. Put all of your worries aside, Swan.”

He stretched out his hand and laid it over Emma’s. Beneath their joined hands, the necklace glistened in the firelight.

The two of them closed their eyes, their thoughts turning inward, and in a few moments, merging. A sphere of glowing light formed between them, spilling outward to flicker around the edges of the pendant, and outlining their fingers with shards of pale fire. The conjured flames felt cool to the touch, even as they burned and glittered with their shared magic.

“It’s done,” Killian said abruptly. He smiled at his lover, pleased that their spell work had been so successful.

Smiling back, Emma glanced down at the pendant. It still shone with magical power. “How do we use it to open a portal?”

“We just concentrate on it, and wish ourselves to a destination. The device will be activated by our magic, and do the rest. Quite simple, really.”

She snorted. “So you say.”

He winked at her.

“We should pack some supplies to take with us,” she said. “And we should also let Henry know the game plan for our departure.”

“Both excellent suggestions.”

As he turned to leave the bedchamber, Emma laid a hand on his arm. “One more thing, Hook."

"Yes, beloved?”

Her expression was strained. “We need to tell Henry about us. And tell him that you’re his father.”

“Indeed we do. But the timing at the moment is not good.”

“Oh yeah, timing,” she said. “The timing is always off. First we rescued Henry from Neverland, and then after we returned to Storybrooke, we rescued him again from Pan. Soon after followed by the imminent destruction of everything, and yet another damned curse.”

The pirate cocked his head. “As you say, Swan, the timing has been lamentable. And now is not exactly ideal either, what with all hell about to break loose, and another quick escape necessary.” He raised one brow. “The lad deserves to know the truth. But I will bow to whatever you think best.”

“I think we should tell him now, before we leave. The way things are going, we may never get another chance.”

Killian caught her hand in his, and tenderly kissed it. “Try and think positive, my darling. But yes, I agree. The time is definitely now.”

“You told me Neal was my dad,” he finally said to Emma. “And before that, you lied and said he was a fireman who died in the line of duty. Now he’s a pirate?”

“Pirate captain,” Killian corrected, with a slightly sardonic air.

“Kid, it’s not what you think,” Emma said. “We were cursed.”

“Maybe you don’t even know who my father really is!”

“Henry,” Killian said sharply. “I don’t appreciate your tone with your mother, or the unpleasant inference. She is telling you the truth.” He continued in a gentler voice, “Look, I know this isn’t easy. And believe it or not, this is just as difficult for Swan and I as it is for you.”

The boy looked at the floor. “I’m sorry, but it’s a lot to take in. I’ve been told too many lies by too many people.” He sighed. “People who say they love me.”

“I regret that, Henry. And I know your mother does too.” Killian glanced at Emma. “But truth is not always simple, and not always pleasant. Swan and I have led hard lives, with much heartache and sorrow, lives not of our choosing. We did not want to be separated. But finally we are back together, where we belong. We love each other deeply. Just as we both love you, our child.”

The pirate captain’s eyes, blue and very direct, met those of his son. “I know it will take time. All we ask for now is that you at least hear and acknowledge the truth of our words.”

Henry glanced up at him. “You really are my dad?"

“Yes, I am,” Killian answered simply. He felt a lump rising in his throat. “I’m proud of you, Henry. You’re a fine lad, I couldn’t ask for more in a son.” He smiled. “I hope we can be friends.”

In response, Henry gave him an awkward hug. Killian, eyes moist, hugged him back, and over the boy’s head, exchanged glances with Emma. Her eyes were also suspiciously bright.

Suddenly the pirate tensed. "We need to leave. Now."

Emma stepped forward, and put her arm around Henry, who looked frightened. "What is it?" the boy asked.

"Something I prefer to avoid if we can, " Killian said. "I can feel whatever it is prowling around my wards, searching for openings. Waiting." His expression was grim. "This thing is immense, filled with a strange relentless anger. And very, very dangerous."

Chapter Text

The walls of the cabin shook with the ferocity of a mega earthquake. Shelves and furniture toppled every which way, crashing to the floor amidst a welter of broken dishes and supplies. Flames and acrid smoke poured into the room as the stone fireplace collapsed. Above the din, there arose a maniacal howling, like the screaming of the damned. Emma stared in horror as the walls expanded inwards, something inhumanly large pressing with desperate rage against the wood. She heard a sudden sharp crack as the heavy oak shattered like toothpicks under the impact.

“Killian!” she cried, backing away, and pulling Henry with her. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s broken through the wards," Killian replied. "Quickly, open the portal - Now!" With the world exploding around them, they activated Emma’s pendant, and a vortex of brilliant white light abruptly appeared in the center of the room. “Go, Swan and take our lad with you!” He gestured toward the portal with his hook. “I will follow!”

Emma glared. “NO! I'm not leaving you!”

“We can’t allow this thing to follow us through the portal to New York. It must be stopped here. Please, Emma,” he implored. “Take Henry and go!”

The howling increased in volume, and there was something else. Amidst the unholy screeching, they could hear a human voice, crazed and swollen with hatred.

“My God, that can’t be…” Emma muttered.

The pirate caught her eye, his expression bleak. “Aye, Swan, I’m afraid it is. Now do you see why you and Henry must go, and go now?”

She shook her head. “We stay and fight this together!”

“Please, my love,” Killian whispered, his blue eyes pleading with her. “The vortex won’t stay open for long.”

In response, Emma turned to Henry, who was staring, terror stricken, at the imploding walls. In the background, the vortex glittered and spun. “Henry,” she said. “Please. Jump through the portal. It’s tuned to the Jolly Roger, so you’ll land there. It'll be okay.”

The boy looked at Emma, then at Killian. “No, I don’t want to leave you guys!”

“You must, lad,” his father told him. “We need you to be safe. Your mother and I will follow as soon as we can.” Hastily he fished a small object from his coat pocket and tossed it to the boy.

Henry caught it. “What’s this?”

“It’s a spell mirror linked to Regina," Killian explained. " When you get to the Jolly Roger, just look into the mirror and think of her, and how much you love each other. It will open the link. And be quick when you tell her what’s happening here, as it won’t stay operating long. If we fail, Regina knows what to do. Now go!”

The boy was frozen in place. “I don’t want to abandon you!” he cried.

“It’s all right, Henry, please jump,” Killian said, and Emma added, “Please, kid, listen to your father!”

As Henry hesitated, the pirate rushed forward, and with a murmured “I love you”, flung the boy into the shining vortex. The last they saw of him was his panicked face as the portal snapped close.

Emma wrapped her arms around her lover and a sob escaped her. “Oh God, Killian.”

He pressed a kiss to her lips, tasting salt from her tears. "Henry is safe. And we won't allow anything to follow him." Grimly, he unsheathed his sword. “It ends here, beloved.”

Emma nodded. She pulled her automatic from an inner coat pocket and checked to make sure the clip was fully loaded. "If we die, we die together." Staring at him intently, she whispered, “I love you, Killian."

“And I love you, my darling,” he replied softly. "Always." Swan was right, he thought. They would fight this together. But he would do everything in his power to preserve her life. As the couple turned to face what was crashing through the walls, a feral smile crossed the pirate’s handsome face. “Payback at last!” he shouted. “Come on, you bitch!”

The cabin shattered like an egg, glass from the broken windows raining down in a deadly cascade. And nightmare entered

The creature dragged itself through the smashed walls, so immense that it had to bend its head and fold its huge leathery wings as it muscled past splintered wood, the very floor cracking beneath its weight. For a moment, the figure stood silhouetted before the opening, the wind blowing flurries of snow around its grotesque form. In the flame lit darkness, it unfurled vast wings. They stretched across what was left of the cabin, rising above the harpy’s towering ten-foot height.“Well, Hook, we meet again." With a shrill laugh, it swiveled its head, gazing from the pirate captain to Emma. “And I see your pretty girl is here too.”

"Fuck you!" Emma snarled. Her finger squeezed the trigger and the pistol thundered to life. Shrieking with pain, the creature reared back, blood pouring from the bullet holes in its scaled chest. As Emma hurriedly slid a fresh clip into her pistol, Killian darted forward. He swung his sword, instantly severing one of the harpy's clawed hands. It shrieked, and clutching its arm, stared in astonishment at the severed hand, lying twisted and bloody on the debris-strewn floor. Blood poured from the wound, acid and steaming.

“Ah, Cora, you’re mortal now!” Killian jeered. “Not quite so fun, is it?”

“You will die, pirate, and your woman with you,” the creature that had once been Cora said. “But first I will take your magic for my own!”

“I’m sure your master will not like that.” He smiled mockingly. “The witch will be wanting it all for herself.”

The great harpy stared at him, her face a misshapen travesty of her former self. Only her eyes, glittering with hatred, were still Cora’s and fully human. Her scaled lips drew back, exposing a row of jagged fangs. “Once your magic is mine, I will kill my daughter, and then deal with her sister and the others who betrayed me in Storybrooke. They will all die!”

“Zelena brought you back to life, didn’t she?” Killian asked, and quietly sent a meaningful glance toward Emma. She gave a brief nod to let him know his message was received and carefully started to circle toward the harpy's winged back.

Cora, her attention entirely focused on the pirate, grimaced. “She pulled me from the grave and reanimated me, then stole my magic!” The former sorceress’ voice rose to a wail of utter despair. “And she turned me into this!” She indicated her hideous body, naked, and covered with blood and iridescent scales, the great leathern wings swaying, agitated by her emotions. “The bitch put a geas on me to serve her, but I have my own plans.”

“Indeed?” Killian said, and thrust again with his bloody sword. It bit deeply into a flailing wing. Growling, Cora swiped at him with her remaining talon. He twisted aside, and as he did so, stabbed her in the shoulder. More blood dripped, and the harpy screeched.

“When I’ve finished with you two,” Cora promised, her tone menacing, “ I will go after the boy. He is the True Believer, and as such has innate magic within him. I will take great pleasure in draining him dry, then killing him…slowly.”

“You will not have our son!” Killian declared. “Nor ever again be allowed near any child. You're the worst kind of monster, Cora, and now your body mirrors your twisted soul. You abused your own daughter; Regina told me all about it this last year.” With a roar, the harpy lunged at him, and as she did so, Killian spun out of her reach, and ducked beneath an upturned piece of furniture. “Now, Swan!” he yelled.

With an expression of loathing, Emma opened fire, emptying her pistol into the harpy’s exposed back.

Cora clawed at her wounds, blood pouring down her armored hide. With a shriek of outrage, she turned and reached out, grabbing Emma by the throat. Viciously she shook the blonde, and the now empty firearm slid from Emma’s numb fingers. Laughing, the harpy pulled her struggling victim toward her gaping maw. “You can watch, pirate, as I devour your lover!” she hissed.

Dangling in the harpy's grip, Emma thrashed and kicked, still attempting to escape. Her face was starting to turn blue from lack of oxygen.

Killian surged up from the floor, and in berserker rage ran forward, his sword flashing in the darkness. As he neared Cora, he started chanting, and magic suddenly flared around his tall form. Swiftly, light blazed down his arm and hand, and along the edges of his sword, turning it into a pillar of fire. "I once promised you death, Cora and now you shall have it!" he shouted. Raising his weapon, he brought it slashing down into her massive neck. The harpy didn’t even have time to scream. Her head fell from her body in a spray of blood and scales, distorted mouth still open, lifeless eyes widened in surprise. Her winged corpse toppled, with Emma still in its grasp.

Sheathing his sword, the pirate quickly pried the dead hand from his lover’s throat. The marks of clawed fingers showed red against her skin. “Beloved, are you all right?” he inquired anxiously, helping Emma to her feet. She nodded, and swaying, fell against him. The pirate’s arms tightened around her, and with an overwhelming sense of relief, he kissed her.

“She’s really dead?” Emma rasped.

“Aye, Swan, this time she is finally, irrevocably dead. She'll never bother us again.” He stared coldly at the severed head and its reptilian body, lying in separate widening pools of blood. “I warned her long ago what would happen if she harmed you.”

With an exclamation of amazement, Emma pointed. Before their startled eyes, Cora’s head and body wavered, shrinking in upon themselves, slowly transforming back to their original human shapes. Naked and bloody, the decapitated sorceress was pathetic in death.

“What if Zelena brings her back to life again?” Emma asked, still wary.

Killian shook his head. "She will not. We burn Cora to ashes, and when we leave, whatever is left of her will disappear forever, along with this place. It’s over.”

It was still snowing, but the sun had finally risen. Killian and Emma stood in the clearing, watching the fire consume the earthly remains of their old enemy.

“She seemed even more insane than before. Why is that?” Emma finally asked.

The pirate stared thoughtfully into the flames. “I believe that when Zelena brought Cora back to life, and drained her magic, that only her ancient anger remained. Her soul had already fled, elsewhere. She became a sort of golem, controlled by the witch, her transformed reanimated body mortal once more. Even thus, Cora’s will was still incredibly strong, enough so that she somehow retained some autonomy, and her own evil motivation to regain her magic and power.”

Emma shuddered. “What a horrible fate. Even for her.”

“Perhaps now she's finally at peace.” Turning from the blazing pyre, he held out his hand. “It’s time, Swan.”

With a smile, her fingers twined about his. Staring into each other’s eyes, the couple ignited the eternity pendant, and once again the portal opened, sparkling and whirling between the snow-laden trees. Hand in hand, the lovers stepped into its glowing light, at long last returning home to the Jolly Roger, and their son.

Behind them, the winter land they'd created slowly faded from existence, no longer needed.

Chapter Text

Emma looked up at the sky, crystal clear and blue as her beloved pirate’s eyes. It was biting cold, but not a cloud in sight. The chill ocean wind caught the ends of her long blonde hair, whipping it across her face.

On the deck beside her stood Killian, his hook resting lightly on their son’s shoulder, as he showed the boy how to steer the Jolly Roger’s wheel. “That’s it, lad, you’ve got the sea in your veins!” He laughed with the sheer joy of being alive, his ship free and in full sail, and Henry laughed with him.

The blonde shifted her glance, her eyes meeting those of Killian, and grinned, delighted by the sight of her family together, and safe.

Flashing a smile, the pirate leaned forward, and quickly snatched a kiss from Emma. “Happy, beloved?” he asked in a low voice, the lilt of his soft Irish accent sending a familiar little thrill down her spine.

“Couldn’t be happier.”

“We’ve got a good stiff wind,” he said. “We should make landfall at Storybrooke this afternoon.”

“It will be good to see everyone,” Emma replied. “It’s been a very long year.”

“Indeed it has, Swan. I know you'll be glad to be home.”

Emma wrapped her arm around the pirate’s waist. “I’m already home, Killian. Here, with you.”

He kissed her again. “Aye, that you are, my love.”

Henry grinned at his parents. “I think a pirate ship makes a pretty cool place to live.”

“So it does,” Emma said, and gave the boy an affectionate smile. “You’re a lucky kid, Henry. You get to live with us on the Jolly Roger, and also with Regina at her place. It’s good to have family that loves you.”

“I am lucky,” Henry agreed. “ And it will be great to see Mom and my grandparents again.”

Emma suddenly looked a little nervous. “Um…so...Killian...who exactly in Storybrooke knows about us?”

He raised one brow. “Us? As in, we’re a couple, and Henry is our son, us?”

She nodded.

“None of them do…yet,” Killian replied, putting special emphasis on the last word. “Much as I wanted to tell everyone the complete truth, I would not do so without first discussing it with you.”

“Hmmm,” Emma said, her voice carefully neutral. She could already envision her mother’s and Neal’s reactions. She wasn’t too sure about David and Regina (or anyone else), but suspected that of all of them, they would be the most understanding.

“Not that everyone isn’t already well aware that I love you, Swan,” he continued. “I make no secret of that. I never have.” He tilted his head, a speculative expression in his eyes. “I think it would be less awkward for us to break the news together.” With a touch of sardonic amusement, he added, “I’m sure some of them will be very quick to let us know their displeasure. Not that I care what their opinion may be. The only opinions I value on this subject are yours and Henry’s.”

“Um, yeah.” Emma looked less than thrilled about the prospect of all these looming conversations.

“I could tell them!” Henry offered.

“That’s good of you, lad,” the pirate said cautiously, “ But I think the news should come from your mother and I.”

The boy shrugged. “Okay, whatever works for you guys.”

For a few moments, the little family was silent, each lost in their own thoughts. The only sound was that of the great sails snapping and creaking in the wind, and the harsh cries of gulls circling overhead. Finally Emma said, “Well, despite thinking that this will be about as pleasant as having a tooth drilled, I think we should tell everyone right away. Before more hell breaks loose. And if some of them don’t like it, well too damned bad.”

“As you wish, Swan.” He winked at her. “And yes, it would be good to do so before something else happens.”

Henry looked alarmed.

“I won’t lie to you, Henry,” his father told him. “You know Zelena will come to Storybrooke. That sort of evil doesn’t just go away on its own.”

Henry nodded uneasily and his grip on the ship’s wheel tightened.

Emma stared over their son’s head at Killian, her expression somber. The pirate gave a brief nod. He knew she was thinking the same thing he was, that if push came to shove, they would send Henry away to safety. Killian wrapped a reassuring arm around each of his loved ones. “Your mother and I are seasoned warriors, Henry, we share magical, as well as combat abilities. And this time, we’ll also have backup from your family and our other allies in Storybrooke.”

The boy looked thoughtful. “They are all pretty tough.”

“That they are, lad, that they are,” the pirate said. “And now, let’s continue our lesson with the wheel, shall we? Grip it lightly, and turn this way - That’s it!”

Henry had moved to the tip of the Jolly Roger’s bow, all the better to enjoy the incredible aerial view as they skimmed high over the water.

The pirate steered the wheel of his ship, savoring the tranquility that the vastness of open sky and sea always gave him. The edge of his steel hook glittered, caught by the sun, and the cold air was tangy with the scent of salt. His glance shifted to Emma. She looked worried, as well she might. "It will be alright,” he said softly.

“I'm so weary of all the fighting, curses and misery. Will it ever end, Killian?”

“Eventually,” he replied, and with his free arm, drew Emma close and kissed her. “Whatever comes, beloved, we face it together.”

Despite her fears, Emma smiled. War was coming to Storybrooke, and she and Killian would do whatever they must for the greater good. But as long as they were together, all was right with the world.