An Age Cannot Sate Love--Chapter 21

On ff.net, Chap 1

Chapter 21: Reunited At Last

Emma lay back in her cot with her hands underneath her head, resting her debilitated body and staring, bored out of her mind. The sixty-four ceiling stones had one thousand, three hundred forty-six cracks in them. The walls had seventy-two stones each, and the cracks in the far wall numbered…

The Piper had been calling her less often now, every two or three days rather than every day, but his choice of tortures was becoming more erratic, more gruesome, and her body struggled to recover in between. Her stitches had been removed the previous day, and to all appearances, she was mostly healed. But every muscle ached as though she had actually endured each dreadful act he’d put through her mind, and she sighed heavily with exhaustion, the kind of exhaustion that made her want to give up hope. She pressed her lips together as she gingerly turned to her side, what would Henry say?

So the days in between being tortured were a relief for her body, if not her mind, and she learned to keep her thoughts carefully blank; the less she thought, the easier it was to keep everything safe behind her walls. That was how she had managed all those years before Storybrooke, throughout her childhood, and every other rotten experience of her life. She was quite skilled at not thinking.

But today was different. Today she was struggling to keep her thoughts hidden beneath the meticulously constructed barriers. Today, thoughts of her family, of Jones, of Mac and Isobel, kept whirling around her mind, pinging to the surface like the balls in a lotto machine. Maybe the Piper was losing interest, the newness of his latest obsession wearing off, maybe some part of her recognized a change in the questioning and he was close to letting her go. She could only hope today was that day.

Emma felt a cool humidity brush her cheeks, a bitterness in the air that hadn’t been present the day before. She tugged her blanket around her shoulders, wondering briefly if she’d been there long enough to have made it through a season change, if the seasons did in fact change ‘in between’. Either that or a storm was brewing.

Her thoughts turned back to Jones without her permission, to the conversation she’d finally had time to fully process, the implications causing her to pause and ask herself if she was right to ask him to drink a potion that would take him down a path of pain and suffering, or if she was only being selfish.

“Have you ever felt yourself slipping?”

An Age Cannot Sate Love--Chapter 20

Emma Jones travels back in time and meets Killian before he becomes Hook. Desperate to maintain the timeline and NOT fall in love with him, Emma is placed on a quest that will have them both choosing between an easy guarantee and taking that leap of faith only possible with true love. Time travel, fairies, curses, monsters. CS AU.

On ff.net, Chap 1

Chapter 20: Revelations of a Personal Nature

It would be so much easier if she were dead. But as Emma’s tired mind fought its way toward consciousness, slogging through the mire of despair that longed to drag her back under, she realized with a groan she was anything but lifeless.

Pain. Pain must be what kept bringing her back to awareness, unable to allow her even a minimal escape from its torment. Both arms hurt badly, but paled in comparison to the fire in her side. The deep throb depleted what little energy she had left and she shivered convulsively from a bone-aching chill. Her clenched mouth reminded her of the only Bible verse she had ever related to: the one about hell, ‘where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth’. If there was any gnashing of teeth, it was here and it was now.

Or maybe thirst had brought her back; her mouth was so dry she could barely lick her lips, and her tongue seemed to have swollen to twice its size.

Or maybe… Maybe it was Killian… No, Jones. A memory of him, of a conversation they’d had after escaping the pirates on the way to dropping John and Kenna back to their home. The happy children had skipped ahead, looking for bugs and leaves and generally entertaining themselves, when Jones had mentioned yet another tidbit about Mrs. Fritz. Intrigued by the frequency with which he spoke of her, Emma happened to ask where his childhood caretaker was; only to find out she had died before Liam had.

Curled on her side with both hands wedged between her thighs in an effort to generate warmth, the scene played out on the backs of her eyelids, a welcome distraction from her current wretchedness.

“How did she die?” Emma asked respectfully, watching the children giggle over something they’d found.

He didn’t answer for a long time. So long, in fact, she thought he might have forgotten the question. When he did speak, it wasn’t the answer she had expected.

“I never called her Mother the entire time I knew her.” His lips formed a half-smile full of regret, and he sighed deeply before going on. “I was newly in her care, still reeling over my father’s abandonment. Liam had just returned to his post with the Navy, and I was trying to act like none of it bothered me. I climbed up to the roof of the barn to escape the grief, as if it were possible,” he added under his breath, “and I watched her circle the farm, hands cupped to her mouth and calling. I never made a sound, but she finally stopped at the edge of the pasture and looked up as if she sensed where I was. I remember her red-rimmed eyes, bright blue with tears. She ordered me down right away, saying the roof wasn’t safe and needed to be repaired. But I laughed at her, told her I could care for myself.”

Emma had been watching him as he spoke and she missed her footing on a small hole in the path, but he caught her elbow before she could fall. She smiled; he was so lost in his story he seemed completely unaware that he’d even touched her, the small gesture speaking volumes of his awareness of her.

An Age Cannot Sate Love--Chapter 19

On ff.net, Chap 1

Chapter 19: The Sound of Obedience

  Three days. What was it with three days? Was that the amount of time it took for the human brain to finally surrender itself to the needs of the body, willing to do just about anything for a cup of water or a mouthful of food? Or was it some cosmic joke, a favorite number of someone pulling the puppet strings of her life? Did they think three days was all she could handle? Well, piss on them.

  But for all her bravado, Emma thought maybe they were right. After three days locked in the disgusting hole filled with the scraps and slime of whatever was in there before—it was an effort not to imagine—three days was all she could handle, and Emma found herself hugging her knees in the center of the roughly five foot square dirt pit, rocking back and forth and humming to herself like some crazed madwoman. Each day someone had lowered a bucket filled with an inch or two of water, so she’d been able to keep barely alive, rationing each drop until she couldn’t bear another moment without a sip. Blood seeped from the wound in her side, every breath a painful reminder of it, and the dank filth surrounding her had permeated her blood-crusted clothing. Her only respite was when her mind would finally succumb to a half-dead stupor, where no thought or feeling penetrated, unfortunately including sleep. If this wasn’t hell, she wasn’t sure what was.

  From what she’d been able to see before the twins had dumped her in the prisoner hole, she was being held in the middle of a courtyard of some sort, surrounded on all sides by stone and brick buildings, sometimes a combination of both, as if the builder couldn’t decide which material to go with. The paths between the buildings were lined with grass, broken by short, full-bodied trees and the occasional box hedge or stone bench. It reminded her of a college campus, and she had just been able to picture students hurrying to class or congregating under the trees. The disadvantage of the layout was that if she could find a way to escape, she’d be seen from any number of angles by those possibly lurking in the shadows of the buildings—not that it mattered since she hadn’t been able to use magic in her severely weakened state.

  By the end of the day—the gray sky having darkened sufficiently enough to be distinguishable from what she was calling daytime—a loud scraping noise gained her attention as the grate overhead was pulled back and a ladder lowered down.

  “Miss… Miss… Hey there!” A voice filtered down to her, and she looked up to see a man bending over the edge of the hole, his face in shadow. “Climb up, Miss, the curator will see you now.” The Irish lilt to his voice was vaguely familiar, and Emma blinked several times trying to remember… squinting up at him as his instruction slowly registered in her sluggish brain.

  It took a minute to get her feet under her, and she stumbled like a leggy new colt, grasping the rungs of the ladder for support, breath coming heavily as she slowly and painfully climbed upward, arm wounds screaming with each grasp, legs convulsing from the effects of malnutrition and confinement. 

  As her head emerged from the hole, two dark brown hikers and gray pants came into view, all covering two very trim yet muscular legs. She lifted her eyes further to see a gray vest buttoned over his dark blue shirt and tie. Still further, and she was staring into the face of, “Graham!”

An Age Cannot Sate Love--Chapter 18

Emma Jones travels back in time and meets Killian before he becomes Hook. Desperate to maintain the timeline and NOT fall in love with him, Emma is placed on a quest that will have them both choosing between an easy guarantee and taking that leap of faith only possible with true love. Time travel, fairies, curses, monsters. CS AU.

On ff.net, Chap 1, Chap 19

Chapter 18: The Fight In Between

Emma raced across the hall to her bathroom, her body bent almost entirely in half as she skidded to a halt and landed on her knees in front of the toilet, wrenching up the lid just in time to… stare at the crystal water of the perfectly clean bowl. She never had been the type to throw up, some part of her wondering what it would be like to be so fragile. But she might as well get it over with, so she sat back on her heels, waiting for just a second… and there they were; the sobs she’d been wrestling down broke free and racked through her frame with a ferocity she hadn’t felt since she’d thought she’d lost Henry to the poisoned apple tart all those years ago.

She cried. She cried for the countless conversations she’d had with Jones that showed his true character, for how hurt he must be by her constant rejection, for how he couldn’t possibly understand what was at stake if he didn’t drink the potion, for the future that lay ahead of him if he did. And she cried for her broken heart that had been on the spin cycle of a washing machine since she’d arrived, whirling in confusion and now despair.

She hadn’t cried so much in years, very rarely allowing anyone to get close enough to affect her emotionally; she had learned to protect her heart.

But not with him.

And therein lay the problem.

Jones was in love with her, she was in love with him, and Killian… She was in love with him too.

She covered her face with her hands, ashamed. Killian had always held a steady belief in her, his constant trust that she would do what was right according to some “hero code” he insisted she instinctively followed. But at this moment, she didn’t know if she’d have his approval. She hadn’t married the younger Killian Jones, she had married the elder Killian Jones, and she had betrayed him, betrayed his trust and his love, unable to encapsulate herself from the emotions his younger self evoked. She knew she couldn’t keep doing this; something had to give.

An Age Cannot Sate Love--Chapter 17

Emma Jones travels back in time and meets Killian before he becomes Hook. Desperate to maintain the timeline and NOT fall in love with him, Emma is placed on a quest that will have them both choosing between an easy guarantee and taking that leap of faith only possible with true love. Time travel, fairies, curses, monsters. CS AU.

On ff.net, Chap 1, Chap 18

Chapter 17: Bad Idea

Reeling once again for entirely different reasons, Killian abruptly turned around and made his way back down the paths around the gardens, the fragrant flowers and charming landscape barely registering in his embittered brain. Insecurity wrestled its way into his fingertips, traveling up his hands, wrists and arms until they were stiff with it. Emma was able to provoke an emotion he hadn’t known since Liam had died, and he didn’t like it; his skin was crawling with questions, the main ones being: was he wrong about her? Was it possible she was capable of playing him false?

Visions of comforting her in front of the fairy conclave came back—her soft body curled against his, his hand stroking her hair, rubbing her back, her head comfortably tucked under his chin—it was the first time he realized he might be falling for her, when she’d clutched him like he was her lifeline and he resolutely understood he wanted her to always need him in such a way.  But she had looked the same in Mac’s arms, hadn’t she? How dare she let a man she barely knew hold her like… like he would?!

He was walking very quickly, pulling at his collar even though it wasn’t anywhere near his neck, and suddenly feeling overly warm, he discarded his coat and tossed it on top of a nearby rose bush, uncaring of how the thorns might destroy the fabric. At the moment, all he wanted to do was find Mac and pummel his face in for daring to touch his Swan.

He pulled open the back door and darted forward, jumping back before colliding with Isobel on her way out. Her long black hair practically wrapped around her arms like a protective cloak and her downcast eyes looked slightly more slanted than they had earlier. He straightened his posture and feigned a polite smile. “Mil—”

She lifted her head, the clarity of her violet eyes unsettling him with their startling magnitude, reminding him of the sea when a blood moon reflects across the water. “Walk wit’ me,” she interrupted in a brusque tone and with a look he wouldn’t dare contradict even though her head came to just beneath his shoulder.

An Age Cannot Sate Love--Chapter 16

Emma Jones travels back in time and meets Killian before he becomes Hook. Desperate to maintain the timeline and NOT fall in love with him, Emma is placed on a quest that will have them both choosing between an easy guarantee and taking that leap of faith only possible with true love. Time travel, fairies, curses, monsters. CS AU.

On ff.net, Chap 1

Chapter 16: Who Decides What We See Part 2

Emma turned from Jones and entered her room, bending as she dropped her pack on the floor with a quiet groan, her back muscles protesting the movement. She heard the door to Jones’s room quietly close and lifted her head, one hand on her lower back to support herself as she stood. The sight that greeted her was so unexpected she opened and closed her eyes more than once to be sure she wasn’t dreaming, checking the hallway behind her to see if everything was as expected in a circa 18th century home like the rest of the house. It was.

Turning back around and staring in absolute shock, she leaned against the post of the huge canopy bed to her left and let her eyes travel around the room. Whereas the rest of the house’s dark corners were lit with candles set upon silver sticks or in wall sconces, her room was awash with a rosy glow coming from a couple of floor lamps placed in the two far corners. The walls were painted in a creamy off-white unlike the fabric-covered walls and wainscoting everywhere else. The room held what she assumed was a closet door on the other side of the bed, a plush arm chair in the corner, polyester drapes that stretched back from the open window, and best of all, a thick fluffy tan-colored carpet covered the entire floor. She immediately shucked her boots and socks and squished her toes in it, relishing the soft fibers under her tired feet.

All in all, it was as wonderful as any room that might be found in a bed and breakfast from the future, complete with all the modern touches, and she felt a sudden longing for her own time, including its conveniences, and her family. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she was suddenly accosted with a memory of her first nights in Storybrooke at Granny’s. She blinked them back, knowing it was fruitless to cry; all the more reason to get the information she needed from the seer and be on her way.

Padding over to the window, she could see miles of green trees turned golden by the rays of afternoon sunlight touching their tops. The bird song was even more intense than it had been earlier, perhaps because of the waning afternoon, and she thought she could have stayed there for an hour, sitting and resting and allowing the cheerful creatures to help her forget her grief. 

An Age Cannot Sate Love--Chapter 15

Emma Jones travels back in time and meets Killian before he becomes Hook. Desperate to maintain the timeline and NOT fall in love with him, Emma is placed on a quest that will have them both choosing between an easy guarantee and taking that leap of faith only possible with true love. Time travel, fairies, curses, monsters. CS AU.

On ff.net, Chap 1, Chap 16

Chapter 15: Who Decides What We See Part One

The funny thing about spinning is that it’s hard to tell when it actually stops. Emma found herself half-bent over with her hands crossed over her belly, her position reminiscent of the last time she had food poisoning, and although there was no actual nausea now, the dizzy spell was enough to make her want to collapse to the ground and curl up like a closed roly-poly. The light brightened suddenly, piercing through the darkness like the painful prick of a needle, and she stood up slowly, shading her eyes and blinking furiously until they adjusted. When she finally opened them, she saw that she was standing in a cloud, or on a cloud whichever the case may be, and Gavin, her sparring partner from the Jolly Roger, was standing next to her.

“Gavin?” she asked open-mouthed and still somewhat reeling, “What is this?” and then it dawned on her that the more appropriate question was, “Who are you?”

“Nice to see you again, milady,” he said with an easy smile, “Allow me to properly introduce myself.” The young pirate suddenly disappeared, stunning her with the quickness of it, and before she had time to recover, there was another quick flash and an old man with lined skin and white hair stood in his place. He was dressed entirely in black, pants and shirt matching a long cloak with wide sleeves.

“I am Zoso, also known as the Dark One, and word has it you desire an audience.” He gallantly offered her a leg with one arm bent across his middle and the other held out.

She gaped at him, just gaped, unable to believe her luck, if she could call it that, since she was obviously the one at the disadvantage and her dealings with Rumple had taught her that the Dark One couldn’t be trusted. How was she supposed to begin processing this?

“H… How did you know? How did you even find me? Wait. How long were you on Killian’s ship?” The questions tumbled out of her mouth one on top of the other like several crazed acrobats.

An Age Cannot Sate Love--Chapter 14

Emma Jones travels back in time and meets Killian before he becomes Hook. Desperate to maintain the timeline and NOT fall in love with him, Emma is placed on a quest that will have them both choosing between an easy guarantee and taking that leap of faith only possible with true love. Time travel, fairies, curses, monsters. CS AU.

On ff.net, Chap 1, Chap 15

Chapter 14: Into the Tunnels

‘I need a minute’, she’d said, after picking up her bedroll and folding her blanket. She had simply walked away from their campsite as his eyes followed her tense back, her shoulders stiff, her footsteps carefully even, and if he hadn’t known her, he might have been worried she wouldn’t return.

BLasted woman. She was fleeing again and needed time to formulate a story. Killian was frustrated enough to speak his thoughts directly to her face, but would restrain himself, knowing that if the confrontation became heated, which it very likely would, they’d lose too much time. Bitterness welled up within him, her words swirling like a maelstrom in his brain, and he wanted to punch something, hard.

The air was still cold, not yet having had the benefit of the warming sun, and the coldness wrapped itself around him, attempting to mollify his anger, but failing miserably. He didn’t shiver, his body was still enflamed from their passionate moment, nor did he allow his mind to linger on the memory, knowing better than to torture himself with thoughts of how right she felt in his arms.

Instead, body rigid, Killian stood at the entrance of the darkened tunnel, gripping the map with both hands, and distracted himself by reading the inscription once again, just to make certain he’d memorized it.

AT dawn undeRtake the trek.

Well, it was dawn, or just past.

The swan. She toUches your Neck.

An engraving of a rather lifelike swan poised to take flight was etched into the apex of the tunnel face, but he didn’t know what “touches your neck” meant.

LEt the stone be your guide,

He’d thought about that one for a good portion of the previous evening. Is it literal? He glanced around the edges of the tunnel opening and found a small depression in the rock face, about the size of the opal Mother Pearl had given Emma. Perhaps it would fit into the depression.

And swalLow yOur Pride,

He had quite a bit of pride, and so did she for that matter, so he wasn’t sure what that meant either.

This adVenture, no more than a flEck.

No more than a fleck… in time? in difficulty? Either way, he hoped it meant the tunnel would be easy to traverse. He did have the map after all.

As he was briefly wondering what kind of light source would be available, Emma returned. She stared blankly at the tunnel entrance, at the stone inscription, at the ground, anywhere but at him, and he thought her eyes looked somewhat red-rimmed.

An Age Cannot Sate Love--Chapter 13

On ff.net, Chap 1, Chap 14

Chapter 13: Coals of Fire

AT dawn undeRtake the trek. The swan, she toUches your Neck. LEt the Stone be your guide, And swalLow yOur Pride, This adVenture, no more than a flEck.

Emma read the inscription etched into the face of the large boulder for the second time, an icy chill crawling up her spine like a cautious inchworm, its touch radiating through each vertebra and its subsequent nerve connections, until she was tingling from head to toe, and unable to shake the feeling that this was personal. She and Killian stood at the mouth of a tunnel, indicated quite clearly on the map by the tiny bird drawing she could only assume was meant to be a swan. The entrance hadn’t been difficult to find at all; the gaping maw of the opening expanded black as hell in front of them amidst the rest of the gray rock and surrounding forest. Oddly enough she felt no fear, and realized that it was perhaps because Jones made her feel as safe as her Killian did.

The light was fading fast, and she looked over at Jones, his mouth fixed in a resolute line as he concentrated on the wording of the inscription, eyes squinting as though he were convinced the message held more information than what was gleaned at first glance.

“Hey, what are you thinking?” she asked, touching his arm lightly to get his attention.

“I’m not sure.” He continued looking at the words a moment longer before turning to her, “But no way around it, we camp here for the night,” he said determinedly. He opened his pack, searching for something and then stilled, staring into the bag with a shake of his head. “Bloody hell!”

An Age Cannot Sate Love--Chapter 12

Emma Jones travels back in time and meets Killian before he becomes Hook. Desperate to maintain the timeline and NOT fall in love with him, Emma is placed on a quest that will have them both choosing between an easy guarantee and taking that leap of faith only possible with true love. Time travel, fairies, curses, monsters. CS AU.

On ff.net, Chap 1, Chap 13

Chapter 12: Escape

He had awoken with the sun all his life, and today was no different. Killian felt the familiar pull of the dawn, lugging him toward the world of consciousness, ready to deposit him without a backward glance. In his younger days he had sometimes fought it, but he had long since reached that place where he knew there was nothing to be gained by it except disappointment—he’d never once been able to fall back to sleep, no matter what the night’s activities had held.  This morning was no exception; he was exhausted, having spent most of the remaining night listening to the children’s steady breathing, and Emma’s rustlings. She had cried herself to sleep the night before, quietly shaking with sobs he couldn’t explain, except to hope that perhaps her affection for him had grown more deeply than she’d anticipated. He couldn’t have slept more than an hour or two.

He became aware of a warm weight in his lap, and without moving his head, he opened his eyes to find that Kenna—probably seeking warmth—had crawled onto his outstretched legs, her tiny body shaped like a cooked shrimp, her head resting against her hand placed on his stomach. He had dropped one hand protectively over her curled back, and the other around the boy, who had shifted closer to lean into his side, replacing his sister. Both children were relaxed with the kind of sleep that comes after pure exhaustion, and he realized that it was likely a result of feeling safer than they had since they were captured. Emma was leaning against Killian’s arm, and his head rested against her own. To the casual observer, they must look like they had all collapsed into one another in the depths of the night.

He inhaled deeply, smiling when his nose twitched from the tickle of Emma’s hair, just taking her in, memorizing her scent, allowing himself a luxury he was sure was just that, a luxury. She was so confident she knew what was best for his life, and he knew she meant well, but he’d long been out of the habit of allowing anyone else to decide his fate. That day had died with Liam, the day he had declared himself a free agent in every sense of the word.

He tilted his eyes downward. Her arms were tucked between her body and the boy’s, as though she were looking for warmth from that emaciated body, when in actuality, she had to be lending quite a bit of her own warmth to the boy.

Do you trust me?

Implicitly.

An Age Cannot Sate Love--Chapter 11

Emma Jones travels back in time and meets Killian before he becomes Hook. Desperate to maintain the timeline and NOT fall in love with him, Emma is placed on a quest that will have them both choosing between an easy guarantee and taking that leap of faith only possible with true love. Time travel, fairies, curses, monsters. CS AU.

On ff.net, Chap 1, Chap 12

                                                Chapter 11: Capture

Aware of their marked disadvantage, Killian dropped his pack at the base of the boulder, Emma following suit, as a sudden wind gust flattened his hair into his eyes and briefly blocked his view of the surrounding pirates. He shook the hair out of his face and glanced over at Emma, tilting his head and motioning with his eyes, silently telling her to stay close and keep the boulder at their backs so they wouldn’t be taken from behind. He was rewarded with a quick nod before her eyes turned back to their opponents, intent and serious, ready for the fight. The pirates closed in a semi-circle around them and exhaled a collective breath, faces eager to see who would make the first move.

A particularly rough looking pirate with skin darkened from the sun and white scars tracing a map over every exposed piece of skin stepped forward toward Killian, sword raised. “Le’s just see what the great Cap’n Jones is made of!” He leered, then lunged, and the other pirates shifted on their feet, trying to decide if they would engage or hang back.

Killian blocked the thrust and heard the clinking of swords behind him as Emma engaged in her own battle. He tried to keep his mind on the man in front of him, the others having decided to watch and wait, but found himself twisting his head in her direction at every grunt she made and at nearly every clink of her cutlass. His heart had jumped into his throat when he saw her elude a particularly violent thrust, and distracted, he’d turned his head to his opponent just in time to block a savage attack aimed at his head. When another pirate leapt forward with a shout and outstretched sword, ready to participate in the combat, Killian knew his split attention would only get him killed.

Recalling her skilled swordplay with Gavin and the near constant manifestation of her toughness since he’d met her, he knew the biggest mistake they could make would be to underestimate her. Using that thought as an anchor, Killian cleared his mind and gave his full attention to the fight at hand.

Killian danced to the side, quickly ducking and lunging, deflecting all their blows rather easily. He was the better fighter, knew it as surely as he knew his own name, every strike of metal on metal releasing a small measure of his recent pent-up frustration. He was filled with exhilaration, the cool air expanding his lungs and clearing the cobwebs of emotional turmoil, the exercise waking a sense of invincibility within his prime and practiced body.

Not one to mess around with niceties, one of his attackers swung his sword straight for Killian’s head, and he crouched just in time, aiming for his opponent’s side, slashing a gash into the man’s skin through his shirt. The pirate grimaced and swerved out of the way, ready for a second attack, this time thrusting for Killian’s middle. Killian jumped backward, his hip glancing off Emma’s, the small touch filling him with calm reassurance at her presence.

An Age Cannot Sate Love--Chapter 10

Emma Jones travels back in time and meets Killian before he becomes Hook. Desperate to maintain the timeline and NOT fall in love with him, Emma is placed on a quest that will have them both choosing between an easy guarantee and taking that leap of faith only possible with true love. Time travel, fairies, curses, monsters. CS, AU.

A/N The captain swan awards are up and running! Show your love to your favorite authors by casting your votes!

On ff.net, Chap 1, Chap 11

                                                Chapter 10: Pirates!

As if the gods of the sky could somehow sense Killian’s mood, the day broke gray and little blustery, offering a show of support he wasn’t likely to get from the object of his ruminations.  He welcomed the constant breeze, its touch cooling his skin before his body could even think of breaking a sweat as he and Emma hiked through the rocky forest terrain toward the seer’s location. Several types of trees dotted the contours of the rolling land, filling the forest with the nutty odors of oaks and pecans, as well as the astringent smell of turpentine from the conifers. Large boulders nestled amongst the trees, tucked here and there like small children holding the hands of their protectors, an occasional darkening in their faces marking the entrance to a possible cave or shallow den for larger animals.

They had disembarked from the Jolly Roger earlier that morning, each carrying a pack complete with a bedroll and spare change of clothes, and weapons—a couple of daggers, a sword for him and a cutlass for her—as  well as dry rations in case he couldn’t do any fishing or hunting.

He had given Emma a wide berth the previous day on the ship and this morning, not surprised when she’d avoided him completely. Now was not the time to push her; he knew that much, even in the short time they’d spent together. He’d been biding his time, knowing they would be alone soon enough, and giving her the chance to recover from the intensity of that kiss. That kiss, fleeting and yet no less powerful, filling him with equal measures of hope and despair—hope that she was just as affected by their inexplicable connection as he was, and despair that she’d leave and he’d never see her again. His lips still burned in memory of it, and he found himself envying another man for the first time in his life.

She was definitely hiding something important about his future, and although he could see her point about maintaining the timeline as much as currently possible, he wondered how much could really change if knew some of what was to come, which begged the question: wasn’t this an opportunity to avoid the mistakes and pitfalls of life that inevitably occur? Did she know him well enough in her time to know what he regretted, to know what he would give anything to rectify about his life?  There was no way to answer that, not now at least, not when she was as unyielding as she currently appeared to be.

He glanced over his shoulder at her as she followed behind him quietly, staring at her boots and lost in thought, different emotions playing across her face like shadows dancing in firelight. What he wouldn’t give to peek into a window of her mind, to know what she knew, to experience what she had seen. But he could see the weight of her decision to maintain his history resting heavily on her delicate shoulders, bearing a responsibility that no one should have the misfortune to bear, especially a lass as deserving of happiness as she was.

Emma… gods, she was bold and self-assured, and yet soft and passionate—a woman who could fend for herself, but would still allow him to protect her, to comfort her. Rather the perfect combination if you asked him.  He wanted a partner, and yet to be needed at the same time.

An Age Cannot Sate Love--Chapter 9

on ff.net, Chap 1, Chap 10

Set after Neverland (no curse), Emma Jones travels back in time and meets pirate Killian before he becomes Hook. The journey to send her home will challenge them both physically and emotionally, and Killian will have to make a choice between an easy guarantee and taking that leap of faith only possible with true love. Time travel, fairies, curses, monsters. CS AU.

Chapter 9: Of that which Jealousy Destroys

A broad yawn stretched the muscles in Emma's face and neck and she sank back into her hammock, lazily waking to the gentle rolling of the deck beneath her, the sunlight streaming through the single porthole, heralding a new day. Placing her feet on the floor, she made her way to the tiny window, the picturesque ocean staring back at her in azure magnificence, its immensity offering a sense of peacefulness that said everything was going to be okay. She removed her loose linen clothing, using one corner of her shirt to briskly rub her face, bringing life back into her tired skin, and she laid out the fairy garb with the intention of allowing it to air out before packing it for the overland trip.

Getting into the spirit of being aboard a pirate ship, she shimmied into her leather pants, their cool snugness like a caress around her bare legs. After donning her shirt, she fastened the last of the buttons on her vest, running her hands down her torso to smooth it out, and tugged at the lacy cuffs on each of her wrists. She felt like she'd win a Halloween costume contest hands down and wished she had a mirror to take in the full effect, all while desperately trying not to imagine Jones's reaction to her changed attire.

Closing the door behind her, she made her way to the galley to see about breakfast. Jamison was standing in front of a large pot, stirring a fragrant-smelling broth, sweat beading on his brow from the heat collected in the small room.

"Good morning, Jamison," she greeted with a large smile.

He gave her a big and cheerful grin in response, reminding her of David after he'd just received good news. "Ah, lass, nice to see ye up and aboot. Will ye be wantin' somethin' to eat?"

"Yeah, thanks. Have we been at sea for long?" She sat down at one of the few tables in front of the tiny kitchen area, watching as he added a couple of pinches of something to the large pot before setting down his spoon and leaning against a wooden cutting board.

"No, not terribly long. Dawn was a coupl' hours past. The deckhands have all ea'en and made their way to mind the riggin'. Ye'll no' be disturbed at yer breakfast." He smiled at her, twisting his lean body away from the pot to put a fresh crust of bread and a chunk of cheese on a plate before handing it to Emma along with a mug of ale.

The ale was sweeter than the one she'd had the night before, with a pleasant fruity note. "Jamison, this is wonderful. Did you brew it yourself?"

"Aye." He flushed with pride, wiping at his brow with a corner of his apron.

She spoke companionably with Jamison throughout her meal, asking him the particulars of food preparation on the ship, what kinds of supplies he kept on hand, and what his favorite foods were. He told her that baking was his favorite pastime when out at sea for long periods, and so he always had sacks upon sacks of flour kept in the hold. He had even learned how to make a palatable cookie from the barest of supplies, needing only flour, water, and some dried fruit. Emma was duly impressed, and told him so, only to make him blush—a slow reddening that traveled from the open collar of his shirt all the way up to his forehead.

An Age Cannot Sate Love--Chapter 8

On ff.net, Chap 1, Chap 9

Chapter 8: The Jolly Roger

Emma leaned against the railing of the Jolly Roger, allowing the bustling harbor sounds to dissolve in her ears, arms resting comfortably as she gazed out over the water and horizon, like she’d done countless times with her Killian.  They had spent many evenings after a light supper watching the sunset from that same rail, his body pressed up against her back, arms locked around her waist, lending her his warmth while they admired the majesty of colors that played across the sky in variations of red, gold and purple, no question in either of their minds as to why those were the colors of kings. The sunset over this ocean was no different from her own back in Maine, the familiarity of it offering some kind of consolation to the roiling emotions threatening her resolve.

As soon as they had arrived at his ship, Jones had gone straightaway into pirate captain mode, introducing Emma briefly to the crew before bustling and ordering them about, leaving her to herself. He was so confident and self-assured, a true sailor at heart; she could see his love for his work in every stride across the deck, in every order he gave the crew. She envied him.  He knew who he was and where he belonged; it had taken her until she was nearly thirty to find that.

Emma hadn’t shared her midnight meeting with the white fairy with Jones yet. For the most part, she’d been avoiding him, her emotions still raw from her conflicted reactions to him, one minute successfully keeping herself detached, the next falling in love with him all over again.  It was exhausting having to keep herself on guard all the time.

And Milah. Killian had never told her much about the dark-haired beauty whose shapely figure had barely been concealed beneath her drab dress. They never had those kinds of conversations, about past loves, and she had to admit she was extremely curious about the woman who had incited her man to such a passion that he would devote three hundred years of his life to revenge.

Yes, Milah must be very special indeed. Emma had witnessed their kiss, unable to tear her eyes away from the torturous moment holding her captive like an insect caught in amber, trapped by an acute mix of grim interest and unabashed jealousy. She shouldn’t be angry with him for following his own storyline, but some small part of her was. Some part of her wanted to claw the other woman’s eyes out and stake her own claim on her handsome pirate, turning him in an instant with true love’s kiss, even if she was three hundred years too early, even if he wasn’t hers yet, to hell with history.