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hookedonapirate · 6 years ago

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The Princess and Her Sultan

Summary: Crown princess Emma of Misthaven is second in line to the throne, her brother Leopold ll being the first, but her parents see her with a future as a great ruler. King Rumpelstiltskin of neighboring land, strikes a deal with King David, promising to uphold the peace between the kingdoms if Emma marries Prince Baelfire. With the promise of his daughter becoming future queen of the Dark Kingdom, David accepts reluctantly.

Before her wedding day, the princess is kidnapped and taken overseas. She is sold as a slave to a palace where Crown Prince Killian of Neverland ascends his father’s throne and is sworn in as Sultan. Meanwhile, Killian’s mother pressures him to sire a prince and presents him with gifts for his birthday, one of them including a blonde princess from Misthaven. Dazzled by Emma’s charm, intelligence and beauty, he summons her to his bedchambers every night and eventually finds himself casting aside his harem and centuries of tradition.

Author’s Notes: Gah, I'm sorry this took so long, but here it is. I don't know if you'll be any less frustrated with the end of the chapter but it seemed like a good place to pause for now. And there are so many unanswered questions yet, but I'm hoping to wrap them up in the next chapter. And who knows, we may finally get to meet the little prince or princess in the next chapter :D. We'll see how it goes when I get the chance to work on it *finger crossed*

Thank you @gingerchangeling for your wonderful suggestions and ideas for this story, and also @ilovemesomekillianjones for gifting me with your wonderful editing skills. I also want to give a shout out to @onceuponaprincessworld for being my sounding board, constant cheerleader and good friend, thank you, darling! This story wouldn’t be the same without these lovely ladies!

And all of you have been so supportive and awesome, thank you all for following along and for your feedback!

Rated: Explicit

AO3 l FF.N I Prologue l Ch 1 l Ch 2 l Ch 3 l Ch 4 l Ch 5 l Ch 6 l Ch 7 l Ch 8 l Ch 9 I Ch 10 I Ch 11 I Ch 12 I BTS

Chapter 13

Emma can’t believe her eyes. She never thought she’d see her family again; she never thought she’d see him again, and here he is, standing before her with weary eyes and a gutted expression. He looks like he hasn't slept in a fortnight, or longer—he looks like he hasn’t slept since she was kidnapped—but he's certainly a sight for sore eyes.

The biggest smile breaks over her face and she leaps into her father’s arms, embracing him tightly. She never thought she’d feel her papa’s arms around her ever again, never thought she’d hear his voice or smell his familiar earthy scent or feel his warmth surround her. “Papa,” she whispers, squeezing her eyes shut. If this is a dream, she wants to enjoy it while it lasts.

She hopes it’s only a dream because if he’s actually here, he’ll be killed. But the way he squeezes one arm around her and cradles the back of her head with his other hand, whispering sweet things in her ear about how much he’d missed her, she knows without a doubt he’s real. As happy as she is to see him, she doesn’t want any harm brought to him. She still hasn’t told Killian that James has a twin brother who is her father, and it’s difficult to pretend she didn’t know of this sooner since they’re identical.

Panic ripples through her as she breaks the hug, still clutching onto his arms like her life depends on it. “Papa, how did you.. how did you get past the guards?” Just as she manages to get the words out, she realizes how dumb her question is. He looks like James, so of course he got past the guards.

Besides, it appears he has questions of his own as his brows furrow and he pushes away her cloak and presses his hand to her belly, his eyes peering down at her round form. “Are you… are you pregnant?”

“I am,” she answers, a smile crawling across her lips as she thinks about the little duckling growing inside her. She can’t wait to cradle her baby in her arms and smother the precious little gem with sweet kisses.

Her father’s expression, however, is far from pleasant when he lifts his face, anger embedded in his features. “Who did this to you?” he demands hoarsely. He looks like he might commit murder.

She swallows thickly, not sure if she should answer, but perhaps she can make him understand how much she loves the Sultan. “I will tell you, but first you have to tell me how you found me. Not here though.” She takes his hand and leads him to Killian’s study so the guards can't overhear their conversation.

Once inside the room, she closes the door as her father looks around and spots the chessboard, picking up the white knight. It’s not the same one as his brother’s but she can tell it triggers memories of his childhood. He sighs wearily and turns around, still clutching onto the chess piece. “I had no idea my brother was alive before I reached the port of Neverland. All I knew was you were taken to this palace.”

Emma’s eyes widen. He does know James is alive. “You saw him? How did you know he was here? How did you know I was here?” She has so many questions her head is spinning.

“Emma, I’ll tell you everything, but first, we need to figure out a way to get you out of here.”

Of course. He came here to rescue her. And several moons ago, she would’ve been ecstatic to leave this palace, but then she met the Sultan and everything changed. “But Papa, I don’t want to be rescued.”

His brows twist in confusion, as expected, but how can she adequately explain her reasons for wanting to stay here, rather than return to Misthaven, in a way her father would understand?

“Emma…” he whispers feebly, barely able to get her name out. He sounds hurt. Completely devastated. “How can you…” he pauses when his voice cracks. “Why do you want to stay here?”

Once again, she contemplates whether she should mention the Sultan, but she knows she won’t be able to keep it from him for much longer. Killian will return soon, and then her father will witness the affection he shows her. He’s never shy about showing her affection in front of James. “I want to stay with the Sultan, okay?!” she blurts out in a fit of panic. “He is the father of the child growing inside me.”

David��s fists clench at his sides and his eyes blacken with rage and hatred. “I will murder him for laying his hands on you!”

“No, Papa!” she shrieks, drawing her hands to her belly. “He did not force himself on me, I wanted this!” Tears threaten her eyes, fear surging through her. She has to make her father understand.

He narrows his eyes at her, completely baffled. “Why would you want this life? Why would you want to stay? Why would you want to have the Sultan’s child?!”

“Because, Papa…” Emma swallows thickly, doing her best not to burst into tears. She needs to stay calm if she’s going to convince her papa that Killian is a good man. She needs to start from the beginning. “At first I was angry and only wanted to bring retribution to the Sultan and make him my slave. I wanted to be Queen of Neverland, a feat no other woman has achieved, but when I met him, I quickly learned he’s not like other Sultans. He saved me when his mother threw me in the dungeon. He took care of me,” she explains, but her father doesn’t appear to be buying any of it. He’s still scowling, his features never once softening as she speaks. “He’s a good man,” she cries, again trying to choke back a sob at the thought of her father bringing harm to her Sultan. But it’s too late. A tear slips out and rolls down her cheek. “I love him.”

Her father’s eyes widen as he tries to process her declaration; she can tell he’s appalled and disappointed in her. “How can you love a Sultan?” he asks, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “He bought you as his slave.”

“He didn’t buy me. I was a gift from his mother.”

Her father scoffs. “And that makes it better? He doesn’t care about you. You’re like cattle to him, only good for breeding, and once you produce an heir, he’ll forget about you and find another maiden to bear him a child. He’s nothing but a dirty Sultan, Emma,” he claims, thinking he’s protecting her. Thinking he knows anything about the Sultan. Her Sultan. “He will never love you back.”

His words sting, cut right through her, but she knows in her heart he’s wrong. “No, he’s not!” she shrieks. “He is loyal and honorable and he does love me and he does care about me! If anyone is dirty, it’s Baelfire, and yet you and Mother arranged a marriage between us!”

“We had no idea,” David retorts defensively, then furrows his brows in confusion. “How did you know he married shortly after you were kidnapped?”

Of course he did. This is news to her, but she’s not the least bit surprised by it. “I didn’t. I came to my conclusion long ago when he forced his tongue down my throat and put his filthy hands on me.”

“He did what?! Emma, why did you never mention this before? If your mother and I had known, we would’ve called off the betrothal.”

More tears roll down her cheeks. She didn’t think she would ever get the chance to have this conversation with her parents. She looks her father in the eye, speaking softly. “I know, that’s why I never said anything.”

“Emma…” he murmurs, his mood suddenly abated as he steps closer, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I only wanted to protect our family and the kingdom, so I kept the incident to myself,” she admits with a sniffle and wipes her tears with the sleeve of her cloak.

“Emma, you should have at least come to us about it. We could've figured something out.”

“It matters not,” she mumbles. “What matters now is getting you out of the palace before the guards figure out you’re not James.”

“Emma, if you think I’m leaving without you, you’re wrong.”

“But Papa, you have to let me go,” she pleads, her eyes once again glistening with tears. “I promise I am in much better hands with Killian than I would’ve been with Bealfire.”

“Emma, I’m not leaving,” he says firmly, “not without meeting this Sultan Killian you speak of.”

Emma glares at her father, anger building quickly inside her. “You want to meet him so you can kill him!” she accuses. “You wish to leave our child without a father!”

He sighs and shakes his head. “I promise I won’t kill him. You have my word. I only want to make sure he is worthy enough of my beloved daughter. I want to make sure he truly loves and cares for you as you do him. You cannot blame me. You would want to do the same if your child was in the same position. You would want to make sure they were being taken care of. You would want to see it with your own eyes, wouldn’t you?”

Emma clutches at her belly. “Well, yes, of course, but Papa, he tortured and killed a man who attacked me. He would do anything to protect us.”

Her father’s face remains steely. “Being possessive is not an act of love, it’s an act of jealousy. Of course he’ll murder anyone who touches you. You’re his property, along with all of his other concubines,” he asserts bitterly.

Emma pulls away from her father’s grip, stepping away from him. “You’re wrong. He doesn’t have any other concubines, only servants. I am the only woman he wants. He loves me, Papa. He isn’t like other Sultans, you will see when you meet him.”

Her father is still highly reluctant, but he assures her he won’t harm Killian because he knows how much that will hurt her. So she agrees to the meeting. There’s just one problem—her father looks exactly like James, except for one minor detail—he doesn’t have a scar. But Emma can fix that. She’ll make him a scar.

She buys some ingredients from the palace merchant. She uses fur for the texture, concocts some glue to hold the fur together and adds vegetable dye to give the fake scar a fleshy color, applying it to her father’s cheek as he fills her in on what’s happened in Misthaven since she was taken.

Her mother is doing fine, despite being heartbroken that Emma was kidnapped, but she remains hopeful. Her brother became betrothed to a princess from Camelot, something that was not arranged. Her parents didn’t want to make the same mistake with Leo that they did with Emma. David tells Emma how often they wanted to leave the kingdom to look for her and how their hearts completely shattered when they learned Emma had been taken.

They were even more wrecked when Graham returned empty-handed, apart from the gold he had left with to buy Emma back. And apparently, Graham had not mentioned he was the one who handed her off to pirates. He made David believe it was all Maleficent's doing. Emma’s blood boils with anger at that. She doesn’t say anything though, at least not yet, she only listens as David explains how he got here and how he and Graham arrived in one of his ships. She doesn’t know if she should say anything though; she doesn't know if Graham really does regret handing Emma off to those pirates. He did try to buy her back after all, and if she tells her father the truth, she’s afraid of what he might do him. She shouldn’t care, after what he’d done, but she does. A part of her still remembers the Graham she knew, and a small part of her still cares for him.

“I knew I had to find a way in the palace, so I searched the streets for anything or anyone who would help me. It didn’t take long for people to recognize me. Only, they didn’t recognize me as King of Misthaven, they recognized me as James, Grand Vizier of the Sultan. I was shocked at first. Then I saw an opportunity. I could pretend to be James, but I had to make sure he wouldn’t already be here when I arrived. So I stole a horse and fell off of it, pretending to have a concussion. I asked some kind men where I lived and they gave me directions.”

“So you spoke to James?” she asks, digesting everything he’s told her thus far.

“I did, and he wasn’t as happy to see me as I thought he would be. I guess he’s bitter that I am now King and that he became a slave. Our reunion was not a pleasant one. He wouldn’t agree on allowing me to pretend to be him so I could rescue you. He said you didn’t need to be rescued,” he murmurs, his eyes full of sadness as he gazes at his daughter. “I guess he was right.”

Emma pauses from her task and looks away, but she doesn’t regret her decision to remain in Neverland.

He sighs heavily and continues. “Anyway, I knocked him out with sleeping dust and tied him up on my ship.”

Her eyes dart to his. “You did?”

“Of course I did, Emma. You’re my daughter, I’d do anything to get you back.”

“I know,” she says, continuing to apply the fake scar on his cheek, making sure it will stay on his face without peeling off. “I just hope that doesn’t include murdering the man I love.”

Her father lifts his hand, gently cradling her chin. “I gave you my word, didn’t I?”

She nods. “I trust you, Papa.”

“Besides, if he’s as good a man as you say he is, I’ll see for myself.”

A small smile crosses her lips, and she’s confident her father will see what she sees. She fills him on some things he must know as the Sultan’s best friend and Grand Vizier. Once she's satisfied with how similar the scar looks to James’, she reminds her father once again to not harm her Sultan.

Emma returns to Killian’s chamber, her father following behind her, and she climbs into bed. He tucks her in and drops a kiss on her forehead. Emma’s heart warms; she thought she’d never have the chance to be tucked in by her father ever again.

When the double doors open, David quickly stands, bowing his head. She can tell he’s nervous.

“How’s my Swan?” Killian smiles warmly at her as he appears at her side and sits on the edge of the bed next to her, rubbing her belly over the covers. “And how is our little one?”

She smiles as he leans over and presses a gentle kiss on her forehead. “We’re fine, just couldn’t wait for our Sultan to return.”

He grins and kisses her lips, his hand still caressing her belly in soothing circles. He then moves down, pushes the covers back and showers her belly with kisses. “I missed you both.”

“We missed you too,” she giggles, his beard tickling her skin through the fabric of her nightgown. “How is your mother? How did she take the news?”

“She’s fine, only concerned for you and our baby, my love. She plans on stopping by to visit you later.”

Emma nods and turns to look at her father, who is watching them. She’s surprised to see the warmth in his eyes. He can see how much Killian cares for her and their child. He can see it in the Sultan’s eyes and how he touches Emma, with such gentleness and love, and how he speaks to her.

“I love you, my Queen,” her Sultan coos with a soft smile, kissing her forehead.

“I love you, too, my Sultan,” she whispers, closing her eyes to relish in the feel of his lips on her skin.

“James and I will go to the Meyden for archery practice. Will you be okay here for a while?”

“Yes, I told you I can take care of us,” she reassures him, caressing her belly. “I think I’ll go to the harem and visit with my friends while you’re gone.”

“That’s a good idea. Just don’t overexert yourself, love.”

Emma rolls her eyes and kisses his lips. “I won’t, I promise.”

~*~

Killian scrutinizes James carefully as the man smites the center of the statue with his arrow yet again. James has always been adequate at archery, but never excellent. He never consistently makes the target.

“Have you stumbled upon Aladdin’s lamp?” Killian asks, pulling an arrow from his jeweled quiver to take his turn. He expects a hearty laugh from his best friend, but instead, James' laugh is timid, perhaps a bit nervous.

“No, I’ve just been practicing more on my own, My Sultan.”

Killian narrows his eyes at James as he draws his bow. There’s something peculiar about his Grand Vizier. His posture is different, more regal, his mannerisms are more proper and he hasn't behaved as childishly today as usual. Even his laugh is different.

Killian’s aim is perfect, but it matters not. Sometimes James wins, sometimes Killian does, but normally it’s a close game. This time, though, James beats him by a landslide. Killian ponders the thought as he stores his bow in the leather scabbard and James collects their arrows. He doesn’t even boast about his win, which is extremely odd. James always boasts when he wins.

“What’s gotten into you, James?” he asks when they find a shady quince tree to lounge under.

James definitely appears to be nervous, but for what reason? What is he hiding? “What do you mean, Your Majesty?”

“Your aim is incomparable today. I am glad I’m not a boar; you'd have me dead by now. Yet, you do not blow your own trumpet, and that’s unlike you, James.”

“Oh, well…” he pauses, fumbling for words. “My mind is on other things today.”

“You’re concerned about becoming a father?” Killian guesses, convincing himself he's imagining the changes he sees in James.

“Yes, I suppose. What if I am not good at it?”

Killian flashes him an encouraging smile and pats him on the back. He knew there had to be some sort of explanation for his Grand Vizier’s behavior. “You will be a great father, James. You have been my advisor for several years, you’ve been there for me through the wars and the storms. If there is anyone who will be a great father, it is you.”

James blushes as he glances at Killian appreciatively. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” James drinks from his goblet until it’s empty and selects an olive, chewing it slowly before spitting the pit into the chalice, just as he always does.

Ah, now there’s the James he knows. He’s been paranoid for nothing.

“How is Emma by the way?” James asks, changing the subject. “It seems like she’s recovering nicely.”

“Aye, she’s doing much better. She’s just glad our baby was not harmed.” He manages a weak smile. “I’m glad they are both okay…” he says, exhaling deeply. He hadn’t planned on telling James, but he figures it won’t hurt to get it off his chest. “I still feel guilty.”

“Why’s that, Your Majesty?”

“Because I’m the one who hired the guard. I’m the one who put Emma in danger, and I…” his voice cracks, eyes welling with tears. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if anything had happened to them.”

James stares at him for a moment, studying him carefully. “You truly care about them, don’t you?”

He quickly nods and looks at James. “Can I confide in you about something? You must not tell a soul.”

“You can tell me anything,” he says sincerely.

“I told Emma she could leave if she wished. I gave her the option to return to Misthaven with our baby, where they would be safer, where she could see her parents.”

James is completely stunned as he stares at Killian without even blinking. “You did?”

“Aye. I told her we could fake their deaths and no one would know she went back home, but she refused. She didn’t want our baby to be without a father. She didn’t want to be without me.”

“Was it a test to see how loyal she was to you?”

Killian shakes his head. “No. I already knew she was loyal to me. I gave her the option because I would do anything to protect them. I would literally give my life for them, James. Who else have I ever said that about?”

His friend pouts teasingly. “What about me?”

Killian chuckles and playfully shoves him in the shoulder, wagging his finger at him. “Now there’s the James I know.”

They grab their gear and head back to their horses. James suddenly stops in his tracks and turns around, something in the distance attracting his attention. “Did you hear that?”

Killian stops and looks at his Grand Vizier. “Hear what?”

James looks around but sees nothing, so they continue their trek. Whatever James had heard, he hears it again, but before he can figure out where the noise is coming from, James pulls out his arrow from the quiver and draws the bow, letting the arrow fly.

“James, what are you doing?” Killian asks, spinning around to see what James is aiming at. “Target practice is over.”

Before he gets the chance to see, James shouts a warning and lunges at the Sultan, pushing him away with a hard shove, sending them both to the ground.

Killian quickly lifts his head to see a man in the distance falling from a tree with James’ arrow in his chest. The Sultan sits up, dazed as he looks over. “James?” His eyes widen when he sees his best friend lying on the ground with an arrow buried in his shoulder, the steel tip angling in toward his heart. “James!” Fear grips him as he crawls over to James, not caring if his white caftan gets dirty. Killian is hunched over him, waiting for any sign of movement.

James slowly opens his eyes, and Killian sighs in deep relief, a smile taking over his face.

“I thought you were dead!”

James chuckles, then winces at the pain in his shoulder. “Please, it’s only a pesky little wound. Besides, unlike you, I would die to protect my best friend.”

Killian manages a laugh. There’s such a boyish innocence about James, as though he had no problem risking his life for Killian that he forgets his fear.

His soldiers bring James to the palace, along with the assassin who is not dead, only badly injured. Killian instructs the soldiers to expunge information from him to find out who tried to kill the Sultan. His first guess is his half brother, Declan, but he’s more concerned about James at the moment. He has him brought to the Sultan’s chamber to be examined by the physician who removes the arrow from his shoulder and bandages him up.

The Sultan’s earlier suspicions or feelings or whatever they were, resurface when he sees how torn up Emma is over James’ injury. When she found out James saved Killian's life, she was so proud of him she cried. Now she stays by his side full of worry for him, and Killian has to wonder if something is going on between them, but that’s impossible. He trusts Emma and she would never betray him, nor would his best friend.

It doesn’t take long before Killian's soldiers approach him outside of his chamber regarding the matters of the assassin.

“The assassin says he was hired by...” the soldier pauses; the fear evident in his eyes keeps him from continuing.

“By who?!” Killian demands, growing impatient.

The soldier hesitates and leans in to whisper in Killian’s ear, as though he is exchanging top secret information. “It was James, Your Majesty.”

Killian freezes.

It can’t be true. He has to be lying. There’s no way his best friend, his Grand Vizier, the man he trusts more than any man in this world would try to have him assassinated. Killian is angry, full of rage. Who shall he trust—the man who tried to kill him, or James? Or are his soldiers the ones who deceive him? His men have been jealous of James since he became Grande Vizier. Perhaps his soldiers are conspiring to get rid of James.

Killian returns to his chamber, trying his best to remain calm as he studies James carefully. Did he really try to have the Sultan killed? He would have had a good motive. If Killian dies, James will become Sultan. And if Emma gives birth to a son, all James would have to do is kill him. Maybe he is the one who put Faraji up to attacking her. But why would James encourage him to have a family in the first place? Why would he save Killian? It doesn’t make a lick of sense. Unless James was trying to throw him off so Killian would suspect nothing. He tried to kill the assassin so he wouldn’t get caught. Then perhaps James would try to kill the Sultan himself.

“Did you find out who hired the assassin?” Emma asks Killian, still at James’ bedside.

Killian nods as he glares at James.

“Who was it, My Sultan?” James asks, but he doesn’t look worried or scared for his life. Perhaps he thinks he’s safe from Killian, that Killian will forgive him.

“It was James.”

There’s dead silence in the room. Then comes the fear in James' eyes.

James looks over at Emma, his eyes pleading with her. Why is he looking to Emma for… help? He's not sure. “It wasn’t me. I swear, Emma, I had nothing to do with it.” He glances at Killian. “Your Majesty, I swear, it wasn’t me.”

Killian is at a loss of what action to take; his friend appears to be innocent but his soldiers have said otherwise. Perhaps he will give James a test to see if he confesses. Killian nods to his guards, giving them their orders. “Take him to the execution block.”

They rush to the side of the bed opposite Emma and grab James, pulling him out. He groans in pain from his wound.

“No, stop!!!!” Emma cries out in panic, her eyes full of tears as she scrambles around the bed to the other side.

Killian furrows his brows in confusion as he gazes at her, gently placing his arms on her shoulders. “He just tried to have me killed and you defend him?” he murmurs, his heart cracking at the thought of his beloved betraying him.

She looks at Killian, tears streaming down her cheeks. “James may have tried to kill you, but this man is not James!”

“What do you mean?” he demands, thoroughly confused. “Of course this man is James.”

Emma pulls away from the Sultan and approaches James, lifting her hand to his face as the guards are tying his hands behind his back. Killian has no idea what’s happening and is even more baffled when she pulls off his scar.

She turns around to face Killian again, swallowing thickly. “This is James’ twin brother…” she croaks. “This man is King David of Misthaven… my father.”

@courtorderedcake @willow154 @teamhook @onceuponaprincessworld @nikkiemms @followbatb @resident-of-storybrooke @hollyethecurious @snowbellewells @artistic-writer @ultraluckycatnd @kmomof4 @darkcolinodonorgasm @lovepurplepumpkins @kiwistreetswan @therooksshiningknight @deathbycaptainswan @tiganasummertree @superchocovian @emeraldwitches

#cs ff #captain swan #sultan killian #princess emma #the princess and her sultan #my fic

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snowbellewells · 3 years ago

Text

Self-Promo Sunday: “Thick as Thieves (or Princesses)”

This one shot was originally written for the lovely Alma ( @teamhook ) for the #love4teamhook collection. Though I realize this didn't happen in canon, I consider it more a divergent missing moment which could have happened than fully AU. Killian did seem to make friends with a lot of the various princesses who came and went on "Once", until it sort of seemed like he had a Princess Squad. This story came from that, and you know that the Charmings and company would have gone to Aladdin and Jasmine’s wedding...

Summary: When Killian, Emma, and the Storybrooke crew travel to Agrabah for the wedding of Aladdin and Jasmine, our pirate learns just how many people have his back.

Also available on AO3 here

“I never thought I’d see the day,” a disgruntled voice tsked, standing at the mirror and just out of Emma’s line of sight. The speaker had that disapproving tone to her words, one that Emma had come to know well growing up surrounded by people who looked down their noses at her and were constantly disappointed in her prickly demeanor and tough exterior.

The speaker’s companion, a woman whose robes were a violently garish mauve and who kept fluffing her already quite voluminous mane of curly dark hair, sighed in regretful agreement. Her curls bounced as she seemed to nod sagely at her friend’s words. “It’s true - seems just about anyone can marry into the royal family now.”

The first woman tittered gleefully, enjoying having a sympathetic ear for her gossip no doubt. “Never mind the scruffy length of that Aladdin’s hair…” the mocking emphasis she put on the new prince consort of Agrabah’s name, as if it were too ridiculous to take seriously, had Emma clenching her fist angrily, ready to storm into view and speak up on her friend’s behalf. However, the rest of the woman’s words, knocked her back on her heels for several stunned, painful seconds, “...but did you see the sort of riff raff on his side of the aisle? Street rat that he is, I suppose I really shouldn’t have expected more from the guest list, but honestly!”

“And the visitors are no better! What are Queen Snow and her Charming thinking accepting a pirate for a son-in-law… with his reputation and that hook?”

Emma’s pulse was pounding so strongly in her temples that her vision was going a bit hazy when she charged into the ladies room from the short hall where she’d been listening, revealing herself to the bitter hags at the sinks, practically vibrating with righteous anger and staring them both down as their mouths fell open in shocked embarrassment. Their entire aspects changed as they began to simper and apologize, hoping to placate the royal standing before them.

Emma was having none of it. She might not have grown up being taught the diplomacy and etiquette she would have if she’d had the chance to really grow up as Princess of Misthaven, but she had enough manners not to mock people behind their backs and then feign sweetness and innocence to their faces. Breathing heavily, she glared at both of the Agrabahn women. She darkly thought that the scare served them right as their obsequious attempts to atone eventually trailed off into silence. Crossing her arms over her chest, intending to cut every bit as imposing a figure in demure light blue dress (so she’d wanted to try to match her pirate’s eyes, sue her!) as she would wearing her red leather jacket and sheriff’s badge.

“You two should be really glad I don’t know your names. I can’t imagine that the Sultan would like to deal with this sort of disloyalty on such a happy occasion. He at least seems astute enough to care for who brings his daughter happiness rather than who comes bearing the fanciest pedigree or the newest style.”

Blowing out a breath, she almost turned on her heel to storm back out and leave them with some food for thought, but then she wheeled back around, drawing even closer, until she was almost nose-to-nose with the two gossips. “And furthermore, my husband might have been an indentured servant, and a pirate, but he is the finest man in all the Realms, and I won’t stand for any insinuations otherwise. If you really want to pick on a street rat, you might as well start with me. I may have been born a princess, but I grew up as much ‘riff raff’ as you called your new prince.”

She gave them an arched brow and waited; a clear challenge to direct their taunts and barbs to her face.

Shaking their heads in nervous denial the two women quickly excused themselves and hurried from the room without looking back.

“That’s what I thought,” Emma muttered under her breath with a curt little bob of her head as she watched them flee. She wasn’t even offended on her own behalf; she didn’t care if some strangers and hangers-on thought she was the “right sort” of royal, and she knew her parents felt the same. The barbs struck beneath Killian’s armor though. He talked a good game, and played off such insults well if one didn’t know him as Emma did. He judged himself too harshly and was loath to bring any imagined slight to her name with his past.

Shaking her head, Emma breathed out a sigh, hoping to shrug off her consternation, knowing said pirate would be waiting for her just outside.

Sure enough, as she re-entered the large, open air ballroom set up on the shining gilt-covered porches of the Sultan’s palace, her husband was at her side in moments. Brows waggling playfully, he clearly had a quip or come-on at the tip of his tongue, but he stopped short at the sight of her face. Head tilted to study her, his hand came to her elbow, steadying her curiously. “What is it, Love? You look like thunder!”

She wasn’t about to lie to him any more than she intended to hurt him; they understood each other too well for that. “Nothing important,” she fluttered her hand carelessly. “Just turns out that snobs and bullies are the same in any realm is all.”

He gave a small nod of affirmation, clearly understanding her. “Aye, that does seem to be the way of it.”

Both were quiet for a moment watching couples dancing, Aladdin and Jasmine mingling and greeting their guests, Belle laughing merrily as Henry told her some story with impassioned and enthusiastic gestures for emphasis, before Killian spoke up again. Devilishly handsome smirk in place once more, his eyes sparkled as he added. “No matter, Wife. I’m sure you showed them the error of their ways.”

She snorted, shaking her head at his antics, even if he was absolutely right. Holding out his hook to her gallantly, Killian bowed before murmuring so close to her ear that it sent shivers all along her skin, “Pay no more heed then. Dance with me, instead?”

Flushing in a way that she knew spread all the way down to her more pushed-up and on-display than usual decolletage, she grinned broadly. Her husband seemed rather spellbound, his eyes following the rise and fall of her breaths helplessly and his tongue flicked out to trace his full perfect lips at the sight on display. “If you think you can handle it,” she winked. “I was starting to think you’d never ask.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometime later, after several dances and Emma’s begging to rest her feet, unused to heels that weren’t knee-high boots these days, Killian had seen her back to the table they were sharing with her parents and Henry, and was fetching them both drinks from the elaborately flowing sangria fountain, somehow arranged to flow steadily into a large punch bowl, where waiters then dipped it into crystal glasses for guests as they approached the table.

“Two please,” he told the server when it was his turn.

Accepting the filled cups a moment later, Killian couldn’t resist a quick sip right then, having worked up quite a thirst with he and Emma’s exertions, the close crowd, and the arid desert surroundings. Humming at the pleasant blend of flavors on his tongue, he questioned curiously, “Is there rum in this? It tastes as though some of the best has been blended in with the fruit juices.”

“I - I believe so,” the server stammered rather uncertainly.

“Well, my compliments. It is one of the better libations I’ve had the pleasure of imbibing.”

It was as he had turned away, heading back to Emma at their table, that he heard the words whispered behind him. “Well, he would know, wouldn’t he?” hissed one lowered voice.

“Word has it he’s found the bottom of more liquor bottles than most people have ever seen,” countered another insinuating murmur.

“A one-handed pirate with a drinking problem given free rein in this palace full of treasure to tempt his baser instincts… seems like a recipe for disaster, if anyone had bothered to ask me,” chimed in a third, the sniff of indignance making that barb carry with a bit more volume. Killian felt his shoulders hiking up toward his ears with the tension, but he managed to hold himself steady and not to turn to glower at the servants threateningly. Time was he would have whirled and taught them all a lesson they’d not soon forget, but he was trying to be a different man - a better man - though it would seem to some his efforts made little difference.

“And to think, he has the Crown Princess of Misthaven on his arm!” huffed yet one more hateful voice, again well within his sharp hearing whether or not that had been the intent. This was the shot which met its mark, causing Killian to drop his eyes to the two cups balanced carefully in his right hand, hoping to make a quick escape before anyone realized he was around. It was like he had tried explaining to Emma before - people had a long memory when it came to expectations for their leaders, and married True Loves or not, there were some who would never approve of Captain Hook as Prince Consort to one of the most prominent kingdoms in the Realm.

His hasty retreat was abruptly blocked however, by two dainty feet in golden and turquoise-jeweled sandals, barely skimmed by the hem of a long, white silk gown standing right in his way.

Surprised, Killian’s head jerked up to find Princess Jasmine’s eyes staring back at him sympathetically. She had clearly heard the same hateful words he had just been subjected to, yet she appeared anything but ready to sneak off and let it continue. In that moment, with her lips pursed and eyes calculating as she weighed her next move, a delicate hand on his forearm to stall his retreat, she looked incredibly like his fierce and beautiful Swan.

“Speaking of temptation,” she purred, the feigned placid smile on her face a warning as she stepped around him to eye the gathered help pointedly. “The only thing I am tempted to do is search for a new kitchen staff - one cultured enough not to speak ill of a particular friend of the bride and an honored guest.” Princess Jasmine was a petite woman, but the way she drew herself up before them, staring down her nose imperiously at each offender in turn, made her seem every inch a tall, proud monarch it would not be wise to cross.

A hushed, abashed-eyed chorus of “Yes, ma’ams” and “Apologies, your majesty,” fell over each other as the whisperers bowed or curtsied and then hurried from the princess’ sight, properly rebuked for having displeased her, and on her wedding day no less.

“Ahh… thank you, Milady,” Killian offered quietly, feeling more than a bit awkward that she had felt she must come to his defense in such a way. He had certainly heard similar insults before - and much worse. Even carefully cradling the two drinks in one hand, he still found the curve of his hook raising to rub behind his ear in nervous embarrassment - his eyes hardly wanting to hold his saucy friend’s gaze even as she eyed him knowingly.

“Nonsense,” she dismissed easily, waving away the sheepish gratitude with a quick flutter of her hand. “They needed correction. Anyone who is going to work in the royal palace needs to be wise enough not to insult the guests!”

“Be that as it may, Lass, there’s no need for you to trouble yourself over my hurt feelings. They weren’t wrong, after all…”

Jasmine was having none of that. Her dark hair beneath the gorgeous flow of her organza veil swished around her as she shook her head emphatically, eyes sparking intently as she refused to allow him to glance away. “Hardly, Captain! I think I am a better judge of character than that, and I know backbiting chatter does not begin to capture all of your fine qualities, merely the flaws. Besides,” and she winked here, lacing her arm through his free one as she steered them back toward his family’s table to greet them all herself, “you would do the same thing for me were the situations reversed. And I hear that your lovely wife has already been speaking up for my own handsome scoundrel. We princesses who can recognize a diamond in the rough have to stick together!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things calmed down as the reception festivities wore on through the afternoon. Killian found it easier than expected to brush the sniping words he’d heard to the back of his mind and enjoy himself. There was too much to see and do, too many friends, both new and old, to catch up with, and far more happiness to celebrate than sour notes to dwell on. He had challenged David to a game of darts and trounced the royal soundly. He had spoken at length with Aladdin himself about the future as a married man, starting families, and loving a princess. He had even attempted to settle a heated debate between Henry and Belle over whether The Thousand and One Nights or The Book of the Wonders of India were the better read. He had respectfully declined to offer his opinion in the end though, knowing better than to side against either one of them when they were so passionately involved.

As the hours seemed to melt heedlessly into evening and the lavish banquet was served to conclude the night, Killian found himself seated with Henry and Emma on one side of him and Belle on the other at a long table, and across from him, grinning broadly with the guileless enthusiasm one couldn’t help but love was none other than Ariel and her husband, Prince Eric. Everyone was chatting happily throughout the appetizer, but as those first plates were cleared away and the main course was served, Killian encountered a rather vexing conundrum.

The fragrant lamb dish placed before them was tempting enough to make his mouth water in mere seconds. However, how to actually go about eating it posed a bit more of a challenge. Had he been on his own or back in Storybrooke where he was comfortable, it would have been no trouble. He would simply have pierced the larger cut of meat with the point of his hook to hold it still and then cut it into smaller pieces with his knife, then switched to his fork when finished. However, using his hook at this fine a table and in such company seemed as though it might raise a few eyebrows.

He paused, attempting to gauge his options without alerting his companions that anything was amiss. And, of course, it took no more time than that for the jackals to begin circling once more. Prickling along the back of his neck, Killian sensed that he was being watched as he debated his next move. Glancing about him surreptitiously, he found the culprits easily enough. Agrabahn nobles or wives of council members, he thought he remembered vaguely from an earlier introduction. They had also seemed reluctant to shake his hand, and now he saw that his instinctual assessment has been correct. Though he couldn’t hear their actual words, their heads were bent together as their eyes drifted from him to his plate and utensils and back before he did hear a small trill of smug laughter.

What he did not expect was the cry of outrage that rang out just across from him in the next moment. Shooting to her feet with an abruptness that sent her chair toppling to the floor behind her with a loud crash, sweet natured Ariel herself was pointing at the two catty women with a finger that practically trembled in her righteous anger. “How dare you, y-y-you harpies!” she exclaimed, her volume attracting more attention than Killian would have hoped, staring at his plate with jaw clenched enough to make the muscle within it tick noticeably as well as the heat of a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks.

“You ought to be ashamed of yourselves!” Ariel continued, her own pale cheeks flushed with her fit of pique. Eric reached out a concerned hand in an attempt to soothe her, but she wasn’t finished. Killian half expected her to stamp her foot for more emphasis.

“Have you - either of you - any idea how much the man you’re giggling at can accomplish with just one hand? How much he has done for numerous ones gathered at this very table? It would hardly matter if you were about to see him use one of these ridiculous forks incorrectly!”

As if to illustrate her point, Ariel picked up a fork and twirled it around her fingers rather menacingly, if Killian did say so himself. “I’ve had to learn to eat with unfamiliar manners and utensils too. It’s not as easy as it looks! And if any of you have any more to say about it in regards to my friend, well… I’ll show you another way to weld the pointy end of these things, right in your pompous behinds!”

The whole gathering was stunned into silence for a moment. Killian could hardly move as he watched Ariel breathing heavily and then plunking back down into her righted seat and leaning in Eric’s solid comfort. He could sense Henry’s wide-eyed awe beside him as he looked at the mermaid princess admiringly. Yet, he struggled to make himself shift his eyes to Emma on Henry’s other side, hating that he had put her so close to such an embarrassing spectacle. Though when he did, a relieved whoosh of air escaped as he saw her glancing back at him, biting her lip and looking torn between wanting to pull him away from the table and soothe him as only she knew how, and standing up to whistle and applaud her agreement with Ariel’s speech.

Leaning closer, so that only he and Henry could hear her, Emma’s eyes twinkled merrily with mischievous pleasure as she told him, “You’ve got an entire Princess Squad watching your back, don’t you, Pirate?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Late that night - or early the next morning, depending on how one wanted to look at it - Emma rolled over in bed to prop her chin on her husband’s chest, idly running her fingers through the dark hair covering his always deliciously warm skin. Though he had been holding her cozily as always, arm around her waist and her back pressed to his front, cocooned in his embrace, she knew he was still awake and was sure she knew what was troubling him.

She couldn’t help thanking her fellow princess once again in her mind for remembering that she and Killian were basically still newlyweds as well. Jasmine had seen to it that they had a gorgeously appointed suite to themselves, far enough from her family and the rest of the Storybrooke visitors to afford them some privacy. The large, open room’s windows with gauzy curtains let in the rapidly cooling air deliciously after it had blown so hot across the desert all day. It felt luxurious on her bare skin beneath the fine, light sheets in the giant canopy bed. She had definitely thought there would be some things they could get up to in that bed once they’d returned from the reception some hours ago, but Killian had merely readied for sleep, lay down, and opened his arms to hold her.

Not that there was anything wrong with that, or that she minded cuddling up with her handsome husband whenever they could catch a quiet moment, but she sensed something bothering him in his lack of playful banter and the tension she could feel in his body. That was why when she rolled over and began to run her fingers lightly over his skin. She took a deep breath, and then finally raised her eyes to meet his. Words were not always her strong suit, but she was determined to try - especially when she got a glimpse of the melancholy lingering behind the look of sleepy affection in his eyes.

“You know that those few people who would doubt you are such a tiny minority… don’t you?” she asked, hoping that he did, and that he would believe her in this as he always had before. “And even if they weren’t - which they are - it wouldn’t matter. The people who count know what kind of man you really are; they see the same hero that I do.”

Emma paused, holding her breath, watching as Killian opened his mouth, then closed it, then swallowed hard, before finally speaking aloud in ragged but determined tones. “Aye, so all of you have assured me. Most of the time, I even believe it. Still, those incidents tonight…. They remind me that I do not wish for my past, my villainous reputation, to cast doubt upon your family. I would never want to tarnish your rule or your standing with your people.”

He looked so distraught, so painfully sorry that Emma had to cradle his face in her hands and lean up to kiss him right then, trying to pour all of the comfort and reassurance she possibly could into the gesture, even before she answered his concerns. When she did pull back, he offered her a smile looked at least mildly soothed, and she gently brought one hand back to his chest while the other sought out his hand to twine her fingers with his.

Squeezing gently for emphasis, she tried to answer him the best way she knew how. “Okay, first of all, what’s this about my family and my people? They’re yours now too. Killian, you have to know that my family loves you. My dad is like a lost puppy when you can’t come to his Tuesday Guy’s Nights - ” That did make him crack a genuine smile she noticed happily. “That’s what it means when you marry and two become one, right? What’s mine is yours, and what’s yours is mine. There’s no separating it back out now.”

Killian nodded his agreement, but a furrow of concern still creased his forehead. “Aye, Love, of course you’re right, but still - ”

“Ah ah ah,” she shook her head, cutting him off, “I’m not done. You also have to see that though it felt like a lot bubbled up today, it was less than 10 people, in a gathering of hundreds. They are such a tiny percentage, and they do not matter. Anyone who really knows you would never think any of those things you heard today. Besides that, this rule and kingdom you seem so concerned about? What bearing does that have on our everyday life? Storybrooke isn’t some old-fashioned monarchy, and we’re going back to Storybrooke. You aren’t hurting anything… you make it so much better.” She spoke that last with fervent emphasis, clinging to his hand and waiting for his response.

Slowly the last of the clouds and the frown of concern seemed to ease from her husband’s face. Emma felt her heart flutter a bit as he met her eyes with a look of such awed reverence and love, and joy where there had been shame and self-doubt. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Emma, but you’re right. I’ll not allow a few naysayers to ruin what we’ve built.”

Shaking her head, eyes welling with tears of relief and love of her own, Emma just managed to choke out, “I’m the one who doesn’t know how I managed to deserve you. You chose me, you didn’t give up on me - even when I made it difficult, and you put me back together, Killian. You - you showed me my heart still worked.”

He was on her the minute she stopped speaking, lips capturing hers as his thumb came up to brush away her tears. He rolled them to hover over her, and just stared at her for a moment, both their hearts pounding, before she reached up and pulled him back to her. There were still a few hours of darkness left, and neither of them planned to waste it with any space between them.

Tagging a few others who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @revanmeetra87 @jrob64 @xsajx @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @therooksshiningknight @spartanguard @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @hollyethecurious @apiratewhopines @gingerchangeling @kday426 @profdanglaisstuff @shireness-says @thisonesatellite @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @let-it-raines @ineffablecolors @darkcolinodonorgasm @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @wefoundloveunderthelight @cosette141

#self promo sunday #cs oneshot #ouat missing moment #ouat canon divergent #thick as thieves (or princesses)#cs ff #killian's princess squad

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scentedflowersong · 4 years ago

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12 Days of Swan-Mills Saga X-Mas - Day 7

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love Swan-Mills Saga gave to me…

Welcome, dear friends, to the seventh of our twelve holiday meetings, during which we recall some of the best bits of the five Swan-Mills saga stories by the marvellous @swanqueeneverafter (thank you for the artworks used here).

The seventh day belongs to the ghastly gang - the villains of The Story of Us.

!WARNING! Spoilers ahead !WARNING!

ARTHUR PENDRAGON

Status: dead, killed by Emma (TSOU), after ressurection killed by Queen Annis’ champion (TO&FQ) Notable dark deeds: enchanting Guinevere and the whole kingdom into obedience, killing king Fergus, binding Merlin to Excalibur (with Zelena’s help) Evil Rank: 7/10 - literally an evil bastard (*sighs* Pendragons)

BLACK FAIRY/FIONA

Status: dead, killed by Rumplestiltskin Notable dark deeds: creating the Dark Curse, kidnapping children and raising them as her slaves in the Dark World, kidnapping and brainwashing Gideon, casting the Dark Curse (with Gothel and Facilier) in search of the ultimate power Evil Rank: 9/10 - Blue was a bitch to her, but torturing children (especially her own grandson?) can’t be excused

BLUE FAIRY

Status: alive Notable dark deeds: never bloody heping anyone!, not telling Snow and Charming the truth about the wardrobe, baishing Fiona to the Dark World, never helping Rumplestiltskin (and thus causing 90% of evil the Stiltsking family is responsible for), bullying other fairies, prevennting Nova and Grumpy to be together, powerful as hell yet never using her powers Evil Rank: 11/10 - shady bitch

CAPTAIN HOOK/KILLIAN JONES

Status: alive, redeemed Notable dark deeds: killing numerous people (namely his own father and David’s father), trading Bealfire for (ultimately) useless information about Rumplestiltskin, repeatedly choosing revenge over love/family, teaming up wih Cora, locking Snow and Emma in Rumplestiltskin’s cell, shooting Belle and causing her to lose her memories, working with Tamara and Spencer Evil Rank: 9/10 - yo ho ho, the pirate’s life for me

CORA MILLS/THE QUEEN OF HEARTS

Status: dead, killed by Snow White (redeemed/moved on) Notable dark deeds: killing queen Eve, taking Zelena in to heal Regina only to throw her out afterwards, killing Daniel, “selling” Regina to king Leopold, almost being responsible for Regina taking the infertility poition, turning Anastasia into the Red Queen, killing countless people Evil Rank: 10/10 - the queen without a heart

CRUELLA DE VIL

Status: dead, killed by Emma Notable dark deeds: killing her own mother and her husbands, using her animal-controlling skills for evil, kidnapping Henry, probably one of the few actually born evil Evil Rank: 7/10 - if she doesn’t scare you, no evil things will?

DR FACILIER

Status: dead, utimately killed by Emma (WDMC) Notable dark deeds (in TSOU): trying to bring the Dark Ones to our world, teaming up with Black Fairy and Gothel to cast the Dark Curse, posing as Hook and maintaining an abusive relationship with Emma during the curse (the aftermath of which - Emma’s PTSD was already mentioned) Evil Rank: 10/10 - NOPE

GOTHEL

Status: dead, killed by Emma (WDMC) Notable dark deeds (in TSOU): kidnapping Alice and keeping her in the tower, putting the curse of poisoned heart on Alice and Will, teaming up with Facilier and Black Fairy to cast the Dark Curse, making Robyn grow up fast, posing as Robin Hood and being intimate with Zelena during the curse (like, alright, that was sort of a call from karma to Zelena, but still), Evil Rank: 10/10 - try being more like Poison Ivy, sis

HADES

Status: dead, killed by Zelena Notable dark deeds: trying to overthow Zeus, bringing the Underworld to Storybrooke, trapping Storybrooke’s inhabitants in an underground prison, killing Robin Hood Evil Rank: 6/10 - nothing much for the king of Underworld

ISAAC/THE AUTHOR

Status: alive Notable dark deeds: abusing his powers as the Author (leading for example to sending newborn Lily into the world without magic), writing the “Heroes & Villains” storybook Evil Rank: 6/10 - not evil, just a prick, bonus points for disabling Cruella’s powers for murder

JAFAR

Status: dead/turned into a wooden staff Notable dark deeds: mindcontrolling the sultan, trying to get Jasmine to marry him, breaking Aladdin’s spirit and convincing him he’s not a Saviour, shrinking Agrabah into a ring Evil Rank: 6/10 - not bad, but we’ve seen worse

MALEFICENT

Status: alive, redeemed Notable dark deeds: putting Briar Rose and then Aurora under the sleeping curse, turning Prince Phillip into the Yaoguai, helping Regina finding her “inner spark” (mastering dark magic), helping Rumplestiltskin getting the Author out of the book by kidnapping Pinocchio (with Regina) Evil Rank: 6/10 - not really the mistress of all evil, eh?

MERLIN

Status: dead, killed by Morgana (TO&FQ) Notable dark deeds: toying with everyone and never doing anything useful, being resposible for the creation of the Dark One Evil Rank: 6/10 - he’s not evil, just immensely useless, which is eve worse when he’s the “most powerful man”, right?

NIMUE

Status: dead Notable dark deeds: becoming the first Dark One, using Facilier to return to our world and trying to kill most of the ‘heroes’ Evil Rank: 6/10 - victim of Merlin’s selfishness, but extra bad points for working with Facilier

PETER PAN/MALCOLM

Status: dead, killed by Rumplestiltskin Notable dark deeds: abandoning Rumplestiltskin for eternal youth, kidnapping children in his search for Henry, kidnapping the Darling family and keeping Wendy captive, pursuing Henry into giving up his heart, switching bodies with Henry, killing Felix and casting the Dark Curse Evil Rank: 8/10 - the head of the Stiltskins, no wonder they all turned out bad

RUMPLESTILSTKIN

Status: alive, redeemed Notable dark deeds: becoming the Dark One, abandoning Baelfire, responsible for all of the Mills girls turning dark (to some degree), creating the Evil Queen and convincing Regina to cast the Dark Curse, killing countless people, marking Regina for the Wraith, teaming up with the Snow Queen, making deals with Hades, helping Isaac write the “Heroes & Villans” storybook, repeatedly choosing power over love/family, killing both of his parents Evil Rank: 10/10 - Rumple’s fingers are all over the story, rarely in a good way

TAMARA

Status: dead, killed by Rumplestiltskin Notable dark deeds: torturing Regina (with Spencer), shooting Neal, kidnapping Henry and taking him to Neverland Evil Rank: 4/10 - just a bitch who didn’t know she was Pan’s pawn

THE DARK SWAN/EMMA SWAN

Status: alive, redeemed Notable dark deeds: using Violet to break Henry’s heart, killing Arthur, trapping Merlin inside the tree once more, ripping out Merida’s heart and using her as a poppet, speeding up Zelena’s pregnancy, trying to use Zelena as a vessel for darkness Evil Rank: 5/10 - look, half of the things she did as the Dark One were ultimately for the better

THE EVIL QUEEN/REGINA MILLS

Status: alive, redeemed Notable dark deeds: casting the Dark Curse, killing countless people, putting Snow under the sleeping curse, killing her father, manipulating the Genie/Sidney into killing Leopold, framing Snow for Leopold’s murder, hiring Hook to kill Cora, ripping the Huntsman’s heart out and using him as a poppet, killing Owen’s father, killing Graham, teaming up with Cora, teaming up with Hades (after the Split), trapping Regina and Emma in the mirror (after the Split), putting the sleeping curse on Snow and David’s shared heart (after the Split), creating the Wish Realm and sending Emma there (after the Split) Evil Rank: 10/10 - it’s the EVIL Queen for a reason (”yea, she’s a mass murderer BUT you can aknowledge someone’s dark deeds AND still love them uncoditionally” - Emma Swan-Mills, probably)

THE SNOW QUEEN/INGRID

Status: dead, sacrificed herself to stop the curse of the Shattered Sight Notable dark deeds: casting the curse of the Shattered Sight, killing her sister (by accident), freezing Arendelle Evil Rank: 3/10 - Inngrid was more of a victim than a true villain

THE WICKED WITCH OF THE WEST/ZELENA MILLS

Status: alive, redeemed Notable dark deeds: terrorising Oz, putting Dorothy under the sleeping curse sending Walsh after Emma, killing Neal, kidnapping baby Neal, opening the time portal, killing Marian and posing as her (+ tricking Robin Hood into leaving Storybrooke with her and even using the guise to have a child with him), teaming up with Arthur and binding Merlin to Excalibur, interrupting Emma’s proposal Evil Rank: 8/10 - gloriously wicked, could’ve done worse atricities though

Please, feel free to let me know what you think of the ranking, the picks, the misdeeds listed (the lists are not definitive), or anything else :)

Stay tuned for more…

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wistfulcynic · 6 years ago

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Drink the Wild Air

HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY to @thisonesatellite!!!!!!!

The other half of my brain, yin to my yang, Wash to my Mal, chili to my chocolate. Milkman who delivers my spiritual milk (TOO MUCH???? TOO BAD). I wish I had better words to express how much you mean to me, but on the other hand I don’t need them because YOU ALREADY KNOW ❤️❤️❤️❤️

(Are you blaughing yet??)

ANYWAY in honour of this MOMENTOUS occasion, I have written you a little story. In which princesses are kidnapped (OR ARE THEY), sea battles are fought, SWASH is BUCKLED and CASTLES are STORMED.

(of course, when I say “have written” I mean there are four-ish chapters. Out of nine. Maximum. SHUT UP YOU KNOW WHAT I’M LIKE)

Many thanks to the brilliant @ohmightydevviepuu and the wonderful @katie-dub for helping me knock this into something readable. Also: @darkcolinodonorgasm @kmomof4 @teamhook @stahlop @mariakov81 @resident-of-storybrooke @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @snidgetsafan

(please do say if you would like a tag or if you would like not a tag)

(Also on AO3)

TO START OFF we have THE MEETING.

PART THE FIRST: THE PRINCESS AND THE PIRATE

Once upon a time there was a princess.

A beautiful one, to be sure, as princesses in stories such as this are wont to be, but beautiful was far from the only thing that might be said of her. Born of a union of fabled True Love and raised by parents who valued her far too highly to spoil her, she grew up to be daring and kind, brave and witty, and curious to a fault.

She was also stubborn, and stubbornly independent, insisting on leading her own life in her own way and choosing for herself the partner to accompany her along the path of it. She would not, she declared, accept a political marriage; she would have a love like her parents’ or none at all. Suitor after suitor tried to woo her, princes and dukes and sultans from far-off lands, and suitor after suitor she rejected. None could tempt her, for all wished to put her on display and indulge her like a pretty pet, and the restless princess would quite sincerely choose death over such a life. In desperation the king and queen sent her far into the north, to the frozen kingdom of Arendelle, their ancient ally, in hopes it might appease her longing for adventure and return her home in a different frame of mind.

The princess greatly enjoyed her trip; she liked the queen of Arendelle and its princess, and the magnificence of their icy land. In the six months of her stay she had many enjoyable adventures and met many interesting people. She did not, much to her parents’ dismay, fall in love.

On the day she was set to embark upon her return to her own kingdom, a man presented himself at the gates of the palace. A remarkably handsome man, with dark hair made carefully untidy and bright blue eyes lined in black. His speech and dress were perfectly proper and his manner charming but the princess was not easily deceived, and she saw as the others did not a hardness in the twinkle of his eyes and a cunning beneath his charm.

He had come to deliver a message to the queen, the man informed them, placing a wax-sealed envelope on the footman’s silver tray with a flourish and an elegant bow. As he turned to take his leave his gaze caught the princess’s and held it, brazenly, for a brief and endless moment broken only when he shot her a wink that brought a scowl to her face and sealed her decision. He was not to be trusted, and she intended to uncover his game.

She trailed him with ease as he strolled casually, almost ostentatiously through the broad and snowy streets, until she blinked for a heartbeat too long and he was gone. The princess was thunderstruck, cursing under her breath as she spun in a circle, eyes darting about, seeking any glimpse of him.

“Looking for someone, Your Highness?” murmured a deep voice in her ear, and she turned to see him smirking at her in a much less charming way than he had in the throne room.

“You!” she gasped, and cursed herself for inanity.

“Aye.” His smirk deepened. “I suspect you may have been seeking me.”

“I wasn’t! I just—”

“Didn’t trust me,” he interjected, with a hint of bitterness that took her by surprise. “Very wise, Princess. I am not a trustworthy man.”

“And why would you admit that to me?”

“Because I have no quarrel with this kingdom and I don’t wish for any trouble. It’s true I have been known to lie and cheat and even plunder when circumstances demand it, but I have no nefarious intentions here. I merely wish to board my ship and be on my way.” He indicated a vessel docked in the nearby harbour, a tall and distinguished one, adorned with stripes of yellow and flying a crimson flag.

“A pirate ship!” she gasped.

“Privateer, darling, in this land at least. And I prefer to keep it that way, if you don’t mind.”

“But if you’re a pi— a privateer, then why were you delivering a message to the queen?”

“Because I was paid well to do so.”

“By whom?”

“I find it’s best not to inquire. Now is your curiosity satisfied or do you intend to follow me aboard my ship as well? A beautiful woman such as yourself would be most welcome.” He cocked an eyebrow, licking his lower lip as his heavy-lidded gaze travelled slowly down her face, landing on the open neckline of her gown with such blatantly lecherous intent that the princess could not suppress a burst of laughter.

“Are you trying to intimidate me?” she chuckled.

His thick brows snapped together and he sputtered in indignation, but her bright laugh proved infectious and he was a man with a keen eye for irony. “Aye,” he replied, chuckling himself. “Without success, it would seem.”

He looked at her as he spoke the words, truly looked at her as he hadn’t before, his blue eyes alight with a genuine interest and a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and the princess felt a fluttering in her belly that was wholly new to her. “You’re a tough lass,” he observed, and his voice held only admiration.

The princess felt off-balance, unsteady, as though her blood were moving too quickly through her veins, and she did not care for it. She stepped back, gesturing at the street that led to his ship. “Take your leave, then, sir,” she said.

“Captain,” he informed her, closing the distance she’d put between them and taking her hand. “Captain Killian Jones, of the Jolly Roger.”

“Emma,” replied the princess, before she could stop herself. “Princess Emma of Misthaven.”

“Misthaven,” murmured Captain Jones. “Lovely.” He performed a gracious bow over Emma’s hand, brushing his lips across the back of it. They were warm and soft and Emma gasped as the flutter in her belly grew stronger. He looked up at the soft sound and their gazes collided over the top of her hand with a crackle like lighting though a summer sky. Every emotion thrumming through her in that moment she saw reflected in his eyes: attraction, excitement, confusion, apprehension, just a hint of fear. The cheeky pirate and the haughty princess were gone and they lay bare to each other’s sight, just for the space of a heartbeat.

Then he released her hand and turned away, disappearing into the crowd. Moments later she saw him boarding his ship, pausing just at the top of the gangplank as though he might turn back to look at her… she held her breath… he squared his shoulders and strode onto the deck and she could see him no more. Emma turned away herself and walked slowly back to the palace, feeling shaken and oddly empty. Of course, she thought, of course it would happen that after five years and dozens of suitors she had finally met the man whose touch made her heart beat faster, and he was a pirate she would never see again.

Because once upon a time there was a pirate. A good man with a bad temper, who had done things in the heat of his anger that could not be undone once it had cooled, and allowed their consequences to embitter and harden him. A resourceful man and a clever one, he worked his way up from nothing only to throw his life away for love of his brother, squandering his talents in revenge and rum until the day a pair of green eyes looked at him as none had ever done before and set his feet upon a different path.

A great one for brooding, he took to his cabin with his flask and his thoughts, golden hair and silken skin prominent among them. The most intriguing woman he’d ever met, he thought with a scowl, and she was a bloody princess, as untouchable as the stars themselves and surely someone he would never see again.

He sailed his ship into open waters looking for a fight, an enemy vessel he might plunder to relieve his feelings. His first mate —whose time in Arendelle had been spent gathering information from the harbourmaster there— apprised him of two likely targets: a barge travelling to Glowerhaven from Agrabah which they could intercept in a day or so, and a royal passenger ship set to sail from Arendelle that very evening, bearing the standard of Misthaven.

The captain’s heart leapt in his chest but he kept his face expressionless as he instructed his first mate to target the barge. Agrabah was rich in spices and jewels; a slow-moving barge loaded with its cargo made a far more tempting prospect than an agile and well-armed royal yacht that may or may not be transporting a certain green-eyed princess.

As the sun set that evening the Jolly Roger drifted as they waited for the wind that would carry them towards Glowerhaven, the men in the crow’s nest keeping their watchful eyes upon the open seas while the captain kept his on the Misthaven vessel coming up swiftly on their starboard stern. As it passed by he saw her, leaning against the ship’s rail, her hair trailing in the breeze and her posture thoughtful. She straightened when she caught sight of him and he could swear their gazes locked even across that surging stretch of water, with an intensity surpassing even what they had shared in Arendelle and broken only when he dropped into an elaborate bow and —though he doubted she could really see it— winked at her.

She inclined her head and gave him a mocking curtsey, and as her ship sailed away into the setting sun the captain scratched behind his ear, a nervous gesture he thought he’d left well in his past.

Misthaven, he mused. To his knowledge he had never taken any of their ships. Perhaps his crew might care to dock there for a day or two, and enjoy their Agrabahti spoils. The wind picked up and as the crew leapt into action the captain smiled, imagining piles of exotic jewels and green eyes that put them all to shame.

A week later they made their port and if the princess, whose tower bedroom boasted a fine view of the harbour from its wide window, felt a stuttering in her heartbeat and a quickening in her blood at the sight of the brightly painted ship, she did not speak of it. Rather, she donned her oldest gown and covered her hair, and slipped away from the palace and into the only tavern in all her land where a pirate might feel welcome.

The delight on the captain’s face when she sat down next to him did nothing to dispel either the quickening or the heartbeat.

“Princess,” he said. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“What, here in my kingdom?”

His eyebrows danced at the snap in her tone. “Here in this tavern, love, where if you’ll forgive me for saying so you do appear rather out of place.”

A twinkle of mischief glinted in her eye as she gazed up at him from beneath thick lashes. “Would it surprise you to learn this isn’t the first time I’ve been here?”

His own gaze was intense, solemn, though his face wore the same small smile as it had in the streets of Arendelle. “No,” he said softly. “It wouldn’t surprise me at all.”

She grinned in delight at that, unaccountably flattered by the approval in his voice.

“And now, Your Highness,” he said, his voice dropping lower as he leaned in close. “May I buy you a drink?”

She leaned in herself, thrilling at the hitch in his breath and the heat in his eyes, her heart pounding faster than ever.

“Call me Emma.”

---

AND OF COURSE to top it off there is BRILLIANT ART from @mariakov81!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY STEPHANIE ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#cs fic #cs ff #cs ff au #enchanted forest au #captain duckling #pirates #princesses #birthday fic #thisonesatellite #profdanglaisstuff #mariakov81 #drink the wild air

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searchingwardrobes · 6 years ago

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Until the Day Breaks and the Shadows Flee: 7/8

The overwhelming consensus after the last chapter was “fix this!” - lol! I heard you, believe me, but I just want everyone to understand that we still have one more chapter left, and it’s a legit chapter, not an epilogue. The last chapter will be one of the longest ones, actually. So don’t expect much to get fixed just yet. Hang with me, everyone!

Much thanks as always to my beta @snowbellewells, my artist @hollyethecurious, and @kmomof4 for heading up this event.

Summary: Every night she traces the contours of his body as Killian whispers words of love against her skin. But can Princess Emma ever be fully happy with a husband who only comes to her in utter darkness? A Captain Swan AU of the myth of Cupid and Psyche.

Rating: M for sexual situations

Words: ~3,500 in this chapter

Tagging: @jennjenn615 @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines @kday426 @nadine200179 @teamhook @bethacaciakay @profdanglaisstuff @distant-rose @shireness-says @mythologicalmango @wellhellotragic @branlovestowrite @xhookswenchx @optomisticgirl @winterbaby89 @ultraluckycatnd @vvbooklady1256 @resident-of-storybrooke @spartanguard @thislassishooked @whimsicallyenchantedrose @tiganasummertree @snidgetsafan @ohmakemeahercules @delirious-latenight-laughs @nikkiemms @gingerchangeling @revanmeetra87 @cocohook38 @effulgentcolors

Chapter Seven: Jealousy as Strong as the Grave

Emma had never been the type of person to fall apart under pressure. She had faced her heartbreak over Baelfire, the plague that struck their kingdom, and the prophecy of the oracle all in the same way: with tenacity. She hadn’t even reached out to her family and friends to lean on. She could take care of herself and refused to be a burden to anyone. With Baelfire, she had also felt a heavy dose of shame and humiliation, constantly chastising herself for being so naive. Ruby, Lily, and Elsa only knew what little they did because they had aided her in the clandestine relationship.

Emma wouldn’t say she was falling apart in this moment, either, yet she also knew she had never felt so completely out of her element. Something significant had also shifted in her since her marriage to Killian. Handling things on her own no longer seemed like the strength it once had. Ironic, really, because never had she been so completely alone as she was now on top of this mountain.

No, that actually wasn’t true. Her husband was the god of love! Venus may be powerful, but surely their union was strong enough to withstand her jealousy. Killian wasn’t a demigod; he was the son of Venus and Mars. She was confident in his love, even in the face of his mother’s wrath. Emma threw back her shoulders and tilted her chin. A Princess of Misthaven may not be much against a goddess, but she was no shrinking violet.

“Venus!” she cried out. “Venus, I beseech you! Please, oh goddess, allow me an audience!”

Emma sank to her knees in the damp earth, bowing her head reverentially. She clasped her hands in her lap, her skin starkly white and chilled against the bright royal blue of her nightgown. Her teeth chattered as the cold wind sliced across her skin. Her hair tangled around her head, blocking her vision.

“Venus, I beg of you,” she said again on a whisper.

The words had scarcely left her mouth when the wind cutting through the satin of her garments shifted instead to a warm zephyr. Emma could smell a sweet perfume enveloping her, and she swooned at the headiness of it. She felt herself falling, but gently, and when she sat up but a moment later, she found herself in a large room, ornate, yet warm. Boughs of cedar, interwoven with flowering vines, made up the walls and the ceiling. The floor was a glassy marble in a shade of softest pink unlike anything Emma had seen before. She was in the middle of an opulent, round bed piled high with furs and pillows. She took in her surroundings in awe for a moment before her eyes landed on another bed sitting atop a small dias. Emma gasped when she saw who lay upon it.

“Killian!” she cried, leaping up and racing across the floor.

Her wardrobe hadn’t changed, and the rosy marble was cold beneath her feet. She raced up the four small steps leading to Killian’s bed, but when she reached the top of the dias, something unseen halted her. She took a step forward, trying to reach him, but was once again shoved back by an invisible force. He lay there, so close that Emma could have touched him if not for the magic protecting him. He looked so similar to when she had gazed upon him by the light of her candle - was that really only an hour ago? - that it broke her heart. His cheek rested on his pillow, one arm flung out as if reaching for her - his wife.

“Killian,” she choked out, tears coursing down her cheeks.

“He can’t hear you.”

Emma spun at the sound of the voice. Standing there in the middle of the room was the most beautiful woman Emma had ever seen. Her beauty wasn’t even something a person could put into words. Unlike him, Killian’s mother had light colored hair. Emma had many a suitor claim her hair was the color of gold, but seeing Venus, Emma knew what an empty compliment that was. Venus had hair that was truly golden, shimmering in such a way that Emma was mesmerized by it. Her eyes were the color of the seafoam legend said she was born from, such a sparkling blue-green that they literally drew Emma into their gaze. Her skin was flawless, her lips the color of deep red wine, her eyelashes dark and thick. Her figure was flawless too, her curves on perfect display through the soft white garments that clung to her frame. Emma knew she was gaping but couldn’t stop herself.

“Oh my dear,” Venus said in tones that dripped with condescension, “you see now how foolish you’ve been, don’t you?”

The goddess strode across the room, a natural and easy sway to her hips, and sat before a vanity with a gilded mirror. She lifted her hand casually towards her perfect face, her fingers fluttering near her cheek bone.

“What have you done to him?” Emma demanded, marching down the marble steps with her hands clenched at her sides.

“Oh,” Venus replied with a casual wave of her hand, “a long, refreshing sleep is all that it is.” She caught Emma’s gaze in the reflection of the mirror. “He’s a god, after all. Unlike you.”

“So . . . he’ll waken?”

“Eventually.”

Emma let out a breath of relief, yet her eyes still narrowed as she gazed upon Venus. “What’s the catch?”

Venus gasped exaggeratedly as she spun upon her stool to face Emma. She pressed a perfect, slim hand to her breast. “Why my dear, I am only looking out for my son’s best interest as any mother would. I’ve been concerned from the moment I learned of this . . . infatuation of his.”

Emma didn’t really know how to respond to that, so she merely kept a suspicious eye on the goddess as she rose from her vanity and crossed the floor. She strode past Emma and to the dias where her son lay, a look of tenderness upon her face that Emma wasn’t completely certain was sincere.

“He’s always been much too passionate for his own good,” Venus tsked, “but I suppose it’s to be expected considering his lineage. His father has a tendency for rashness.”

“Killian said you wanted to kill me.”

“Of course I did.”

Her cool manner as she said it, so casual and matter of fact, sent ice through Emma’s veins. She strode towards Emma, and it was all Emma could do to stand her ground and not flee. Venus came toe to toe with her, taking Emma’s chin in her hand.

“I suppose I can see your appeal,” Venus scoffed as she studied Emma’s face, “for a mortal.”

“I never did anything to -”

“Silence,” Venus snapped, releasing her roughly. “I don’t care to hear you defend yourself. The fact of the matter is; princes, dukes, sultans, military leaders, even peasants were suddenly all begging me for the same thing: that they would win the heart of Princess Emma. After every one of the balls your parents threw, I would then have to hear the heartbroken pleas of the men who had fallen under the spell of your beauty.”

“But I didn’t -”

“Foolish girl!” Venus raged. “That’s the point! You didn’t do anything! You’re nothing! Yet no one was exulting the beauty of Venus anymore, only yours. I’m the goddess of beauty. I couldn’t let a mere mortal girl receive praise over and above me!”

Venus took a deep breath and released it, her exquisite features settling once again into a serene expression. When she resumed her story, the calm timbre of her voice was more terrifying than her previous rage.

“I sent my son to kill you. Did you know that?”

The blood drained from Emma’s face, but she refused to answer.

“I gave him a vial of poison,” Venus continued casually, lifting bottles of perfume from her vanity one by one and idly sniffing them, “but he hesitated.” She frowned as if Killian were a disappointment to her. “The first time he saw you, you were in the castle courtyard getting a sword fighting lesson from your father. Your mother was there too, teasing you both about archery being the superior pursuit. You were in breeches, sweaty and flushed, your hair messy and pulled away from your face, yet you mesmerized Killian for some reason.”

Venus shrugged dismissively, and Emma’s temper flared. “Unlike you, he sees more than what’s on the surface!”

“He’s also infuriatingly monogamous. It’s embarrassing, really. What’s the point of immortality? Eternal youth and vigor? I ask you.”

“And you’re infuriatingly shallow and selfish. Killian told me what his childhood was like, you know.”

Venus’s eyes widened threateningly. “Be careful, mortal. Forget not to whom you speak.”

Emma swallowed nervously. When she spoke again, she forced humility into her words. “Forgive me, I beg you. I am a mere mortal, as you said, but I love your son with all my heart. He’s my husband. He is my beloved, and I am his. I would do anything to prove my loyalty to him so that we might be together.”

Venus was leaning closer to the mirror, admiring her own reflection, as if she weren’t paying a bit of attention to Emma’s impassioned speech. “Why should I care about your insignificant happiness? My son is immortal. When you’re old and gray, he will still be young and virile. And when your body turns to dust, he’ll have to find another anyway.”

“Then why deny us this short time of happiness? If I’m distracted during the flower of my youth by his love, then I’ll be out of your way.”

“Or a constant thorn in my side,” Venus bit out, “even my own son favors you over me. And don’t you think I care at all about the pain loving a mortal will cause my son?”

Actually, no Emma thought, but she held her tongue.

Venus spun away from the mirror to regard Emma. “No. My plans for you have changed, and they are so much better than your death. So much better than ravaging your kingdom with a plague. So much better than dressing you up in a wedding gown to be fed to a monster.”

“That was all you?” Emma gasped.

“Of course it was! My soft-hearted son just had to get in my way, but unintentionally he has given me a much better punishment for you - a more fitting one.”

Emma hadn’t noticed that Venus was stalking ever closer, pushing her closer and closer to the dais upon which Killian slept. Emma stumbled into the bottom step, falling backwards, catching herself before her back could collide with the marble.

“To love someone just out of your reach. To forever long for a husband that you can’t have.”

Emma shook her head, tears pricking her eyes. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“My son will slumber until your death.”

“No!”

“Unless,” Venus amended, casually examining the nails of her left hand, “you can do as you swore and prove that your love for him is true.”

“I told you I’d do anything.” Emma hated that she was begging, but she couldn’t stop the tears that streamed down her cheeks.

“Good girl.” A sadistic grin curled the goddess’s lips. “Bring me the flower of eternal beauty. It is currently in the possession of Persephone in the Underworld. I want it back.” She gestured to Killian with a shrug. “And it just so happens to be the cure for my son’s enchanted slumber.”

Emma swallowed nervously. “It shall be done, but . . . how do I get to the Underworld?”

Venus’s gaze snapped to Emma’s. “That isn’t my problem, mortal,” she bent down to stroke Emma’s chin, “though I wouldn’t tarry if I were you. Every moment my son remains in the arms of Morpheus, the closer he is to forgetting you.”

Emma couldn’t prevent the gasp from leaving her lips. “How long?” she managed to ask.

“Days? Weeks? Months?” Venus cooed, her hand drifting to tuck an errant hair behind Emma’s ear in a mockery of a motherly gesture. “I’m not entirely sure.”

The sweet nectar of Venus’s breath against her face left Emma dizzy and disoriented. The room began to spin, her vision to blur, and Emma felt herself falling once again.

*********************************************************

“Is she dead?” a voice near Emma’s ear asked in a hushed tone. Emma tried to open her eyes, but her lids felt weighted, and her head pounded.

“Of course not, Ariel,” another voice above her snapped.

“Would both of you get away from her?” Emma recognized Tiger Lily as the third voice. “Venus’s magic will have left her queasy, and the last thing she needs is the two of you in her face.”

Emma managed to peel her eyes open, yet her vision was fuzzy. A flash of red swam before her.

“We can’t let her sleep long,” Ariel said worriedly. “We don’t know how much time Killian has.”

The fairy’s words caused reality to slam into Emma, and she struggled to a sitting position despite the pain that threatened to split her skull. She moaned and clutched her temple with both hands. The three fairies rushed to her side with words of comfort and concern, and Emma realized she was surrounded by the thick branches of a tree. The night sky, blinking with stars, was visible through the canopy of leaves above.

“Wh-where am I?” Emma asked through dry lips. Her mouth tasted like cotton.

“Drink this,” Tiger Lily said gently, offering her a cup of coconut milk.

Emma drank eagerly, and as the sweet liquid filled her, she felt herself strengthened, her mind less muddled.

“This used to be our home,” Tink told her, the tone of her voice much too chipper for Emma’s frayed nerves, “before Killian got us our wings back. Of course, now his house has been poofed out of existence or something by Venus, but -”

“Tink!” Tiger Lily snapped. “Not. Helping.”

“Sorry.”

Emma shoved aside the soft fur that the fairies had draped over her, and rose quickly to her feet. She was second guessing that decision the minute the tree house around her seemed to sway and spin.

“Easy there.” Ariel hurried to her side. “A lot of magic has been used on you in a short amount of time. You’re going to be disoriented.”

“I don’t have time for you to coddle me,” Emma snapped, brushing Ariel off. “Killian’s memory of me will be lost forever if I don’t hurry and get Venus what she wants.” Emma sank back down to the creaking bed of woven reeds, moaning as she buried her face in her hands. “Though I have no idea how to even get to the Underworld, much less persuade Persephone to give me some magical flower.”

“The first part’s easy,” Tink enthused, plopping down next to her and wrapping her up in a side hug, “you’ve already seen the entrance to the Underworld.”

Emma lifted her face to look at Tink in astonishment. “You mean that cavern Killian was trying to convince me to enter?”

The fairy nodded her head enthusiastically, and when Emma turned to Tiger Lily and Ariel, they too nodded their agreement.

“But . . .” Emma said, rubbing at her temple, “Venus destroyed our home.”

That final word - home - made Emma’s chest tighten as realization of its truth washed over her. All the weeks she had resided in the castle, she had missed her home and her family. Yet now, all she wanted were those marble halls, the exquisite gardens, the warm and welcoming library. And Killian. Most of all, she wanted her husband by her side.

“She destroyed the castle,” Tiger Lily clarified, “and even that only temporarily. Cupid - Killian, I mean - is a god too, remember. He can rebuild our home in all its glory, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried about our house, I’m worried about him! Are you saying that the entrance to the Underworld is still on the mountain?”

The three fairies nodded, and Emma surged to her feet once again. She didn’t sway this time, and she counted it as her first victory, albeit a small one. “Then let’s go!”

The fairies exchanged dismayed glances.

“What?”

“We . . . “ Ariel trailed off, wringing her hands, “can’t go with you.”

“But you have to! I don’t know how to get back there, much less how to navigate in the Underworld.”

“Fairies are immortal beings, so we aren’t allowed in the Underworld,” Tiger Lily explained gently.

“But we can give you gifts!” Tink put in, her face beaming as if this ought to make everything better.

“Gifts?” Emma asked with a wry arch of her brows.

“It’s a fairy thing,” Tink said with a smile and a shrug, Emma’s sarcasm going completely over her head.

Ariel wrapped her arm around Emma’s shoulder. “Really, Emma, we can help you. The journey must be yours, but we can point the way and aid you through our gifts.”

The redhead flicked her wrist, and there in the palm of her hand was an ornate, golden compass with markings in a mystical language Emma had never seen before. She took it and lifted a questioning gaze to her new friend.

“It’s enchanted,” Ariel explained, “instead of pointing north, it points to the object you seek. In your case, Persephone’s flower.”

“Thank you,” Emma whispered. Ariel’s other arm came up to wrap around Emma, enveloping her in a warm hug.

Tink bounced forward, pulling a vial free from the leather cord around her neck. What was inside glittered and caught the light of the moon above. Emma cocked her head.

“Sparkly dirt?”

Tink giggled, “No, silly, pixie dust! As you can imagine, it’s almost unheard of in the Underworld. Charon, who ferries the boat across the River Styx, will want payment to take you across, especially since you’re . . . you know, alive?”

Emma couldn’t help smiling as she took the vial. “And let me guess, he really likes pixie dust?”

Tink’s eyes went wide and her mouth formed a small “o” of surprise. “Pixie dust is a very versatile and powerful magical substance.”

Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Thank you, Tink.”

Emma grunted as the petite fairy launched herself at Emma for a fierce hug. After relinquishing the blonde fairy, Emma turned to Tiger Lily. She especially valued Tiger Lily’s steadiness at such a time, and felt certain that her gift would be the most important. So when Tiger Lily pressed a stack of thick discs wrapped in brown paper into Emma’s hand, a furrow creased Emma’s brow. They smelled of ground beef.

“Are these -”

“Dog biscuits?” Tiger Lily nodded. “They are. Surely you’ve heard of Cerberus, the three headed dog that guards the castle of Hades and Persephone?”

Emma blinked rapidly. “And I subdue him with . . . dog biscuits?”

“Infused with pixie dust!” Tink whispered.

“Works like a charm,” Tiger Lily insisted.

“How would you know? You just said fairies can’t go to the Underworld!” Emma felt panic rising suddenly. She had a bad feeling about this . . .

Ariel took both of her hands, forcing their green eyes to meet, and in the fairy’s gaze, Emma found solace. “But that doesn’t mean we haven’t helped desperate souls like you. We love you, Emma, and we love Killian. More than that, we believe in your love for one another. You can do this.”

Emma’s lips tipped up in a wobbly smile as tears welled in her eyes. The fairies stepped forward to embrace her in a slightly awkward group hug, and Ariel’s words filled the depths of her heart, lending strength for the quest ahead.

*************************************************************

Emma did not hesitate this time as she approached the cold and foreboding opening of the inky cavern. She stepped through boldly, Ariel’s compass pointing straight ahead. She made her way through a tunnel of vines that swayed like bony appendages, catching in her hair and brushing against her bare arms, yet she soldiered on. She exited the passage of thick foliage, and there before her were the viscous, black waters of the River Styx.

She walked with steady purpose towards the hooded figure that piloted the small ferry. She clutched Tink’s vial of pixie dust which hung around her neck. The golden compass and the dog biscuits rested in the satchel at her hip. Nothing but firm resolve radiated from her.

“Stay strong, Killian,” she whispered, “I’ll never stop fighting for us.”

#cs ff #cssns #cssns 2019 #captain swan supernatural summer #enchanted forest au #cupid and psyche au #slow burn #myth

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tomeandflickcorner · 6 years ago

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CS Fic Rec Monday Contribution

This week, I recommend a fic I recently discovered. The Princess and Her Sultan by @hookedonapirate

In this fic, which is kind of a mix of an AU and a period piece, Emma is pledged to be married to Prince Baelfire, in order to ensure peace between their two kingdoms. But the day before the wedding, Emma is abducted and taken overseas, where she is to be presented to Killian (who is a sultan in this) to be part of his harem.

Of course, it’s important to note that Emma is barely 18 in this story, and there are themes of human trafficking as well. So if you find that to be squicky, you probably should proceed with caution. But if you can get past that and view this as a period piece, I think you might find it just as intriguing as I did.

#cs fic rec monday #csfrm

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trippinsorrows · 6 months ago

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Oo I love perfumes too! I'm curious to know if you have any recommendations or maybe like your top five favorites? 🫶🏾

yesss! if it's one thing, we love, it's a smell good scent! i actually answered something like this a while ago, so i'm literally copying and pasting some of these! lol :)

literally all of the ‘good girl’ perfumes by caroline herrera. i literally have them all. the og is my go to though. i get a ton of compliments every single time i wear it. 😭

valentino ’born in roma’

jimmy choo ‘i want choo’ and ‘i want choo forever’

ysl ‘mon paris’

‘juliette has a gun, not a perfume’

kayali ‘yummy pistachio’ or something like that

kayali ‘sparkling lychee’

jessica simpson ‘fancy’

‘rose gourmand’ by zara

i absolutely love arabic perfumes and have really been into those the past couple years.

they project farther and stronger and last longer. you can often find ‘dupes’ of high end fragrances, which is what i buy over my high end unless i really just can’t say no. like with my good girl ones 😭

‘ard al zaafaran hareem sultan’

‘taskeen caramel cascade’ by paris corner (dupe for bianco latte)

‘rave now’ by lattafa (dupe for burberry her)

'angham' by lattafa (dupe for burberry goddess)

‘khamrah’ by lattafa (dupe for angels share by killian)

‘pistachio khair’ by paris corner (significantly better dupe for the pistachio one by kayali. it lasts much longer and isn’t just a skin scent)

'shaghaf oud tonka' by swiss araibian

‘qissa pink’ by paris corner

‘mohra silky rose’ by lattafa

‘yara’ by lattafa

—————

for top five? i definitely reach for good girl supreme, pistachio khair, rave now, angham, and khamrah the most!

i also like to mix scents too, though, so yeah lol

#ari answers

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blackcat-magic · 6 years ago

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I’m looking for a fic

I can’t remember the title but it’s about Emma being kidnapped from her kingdom and being sent to live in Killian’s harem, where he’s the Sultan? Elsa, Anna, Merida and Tink are in the harem as well?

#ouat #cs ff #reference #captain swan

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thesschesthair · 7 years ago

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Can you imagine if Killian had actually managed to find a way to get Alice out of that tower early on?

The joy and excitement of showing her all of the outside world. It’s like watching her grow all over again, seeing her reactions to the sounds, the colours, the textures, temperatures, sights, tastes- constantly chuckling at her state of awe.

Heading straight out onto the ocean, Smee somehow always knowing when his captain needs him, ready to have the pair board the Jolly Roger.

They spend years travelling the realms, visiting ports, experiencing everything life has to offer, and she keeps mementos of each trip.

She grows up, lives a life of freedom and wonder amongst pirates, outlaws, sultans, mermaids- takes a slice of a different way of life with her wherever they go.

Until the time comes when she’s had enough.

She loves the sea and the travels but she misses land. As much as she hated the tower, she misses home.

He knows she’s grown bored, and as he looks at himself, ageing, growing older; he sleeps more and groans with each crick in his body... he believes it’s time to retire.

So he finds them a home. A nice little wooden cabin in the woods- close enough to get to places but far enough to be free of the cramped villages.

And they love it there. Sure, they miss uncle Smee and the crew sometimes but the slower pace and quiet stillness of staying put fulfils them once again. But he can sense there’s something still amiss with Alice despite her claims of being happy.

It’s not until he spies her walking often enough with a hooded blonde with a bow attached to her side, that he realises just what his daughter was truly yearning for.

She’s become a woman and he’s barely noticed. He wonders if he’s truly given her everything he could; everything she may need to make it on her own in this world; he hopes all she’s seen and experienced will be enough to let her blossom as Alice without him there to guide her.

Because he knows it’s now only a matter of time before they’ll have to part ways. She’ll want her own life.

He hopes he’s given her everything he can for her to go grab it.

#knightrook #i dunno i'm just thinking out loud

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themodernperfumes · 5 years ago

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High Quality Impressions of Following Designers Perfumes are available: - 99.99% Similar Fragrance Notes than Original (Designers') Perfumes - Excellent Projection - Minimum 12-24hrs Lasting (Guaranteed) Available in 50ml PKR 2,800.00 (Each) Delivery Charges: PKR 200.00 Cash On Delivery through TCS all across Pakistan https://www.Facebook.com/TheModernPerfume 0336-111-0-247 *Designers* Amouage Epic Men Amouage Beach Hut Clive Christian X For Man Clive Christian 1 Man Clive Christian 1872 Man Clive Christian 1872 Vetiver Clive Christian Myrrh Frederic Malle Musk Ravageur Nasomatto Black Afghano Nasomatto Pardon Me Paco Rabanne Invictus Acqua Tom Ford Tobacco Oudh Tom Ford Fu King Fabulous Tom Ford Oudh Wood Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille Tom Ford Grey Vativer Edt 2014 Tom Ford Grey Vetiver Tom Ford Noir Exquis Yves Saint Laurent Y Yves Saint Laurent Black Opium Dolce & Gabbana The One Man Christian Dior Sauvage Christian Dior Oudh Ispahan Aventus Creed Creed Green Irish Tweed Vicking Creed Men Creed Silver Mountain Water Creed Royal Oudh Killian Straight To Heaven Killian Intoxicated Killian Amber Oudh Arabian Night Killian Gold Knight Men Killian Good Girl Gone Bad Xerjoff More Than Words Xerjoff Casamorati 1888 Lira Man Xerjoff Casamorati 1888 Mefisto Man Maison Francis Kurkdjian Apom Man Maison Francis Kurkdjian Gentle Fluidity Gold Maison Francis Kurkdjian Gentle Fluidity Silver Maison Francis Kurkdjian Bacarat Rouge 540 Maison Francis Kurkdjian Bacarat Rouge 540 (Women) Maison Francis Kurkdjian Aqua Vitae Forte Molecule Escentric 2 Mancera Indian Dream Mancera Red Tobacco Arabic Fragrances Romantic Coffee Sospiro Diapason Hugo Boss Deep Red Ajmal Visal Gold Ajmal Visal Purple Ajmal Ward Ul Musk Blv Bvlgari Women Giorgio Armani Acqua Di Gio Perfumo Giorgio Armani Acqua Di Gio Women Terre D'hermes Eau Intense Vetiver Hermes Voyage Night Jacques Bogart One Men Show Lacoste Touch of Pink Montale Red Vetiver Ralph Lauren Romance Women Ralph Lauren Romance Men Rasasi Darrej Rasasi Faqt ul Rijal Smell Bent Prophecy Viktor & Rolf Spicebomb J. Bloom J. Breeze J. Akram Sultan https://www.instagram.com/p/CJA8TXshUFb/?igshid=1s17vnozd63r

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hookedonapirate · 6 years ago

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The Princess and Her Sultan

A/N: In a previous post, I asked if you were all okay with another smutty chapter and no one seemed to be opposed to the idea, so here we are again, but it’s not entirely smut, only about 75% :) I do have to apologize ahead of time, I’m throwing some religion at you in the beginning, but yeah, actually I’m not really sorry because…. well, you’ll see why ;)

Thank you @gingerchangeling for your wonderful suggestions and ideas for this story, and also @ilovemesomekillianjones for gifting me with your wonderful editing skills at. I also want to give a shout out to @onceuponaprincessworld for being my sounding board, constant cheerleader and good friend, thank you, darling! This story wouldn’t be the same without these lovely ladies!

And all of you have been so supportive and awesome, thank you all for following along and for your feedback!

Rated: Explicit

AO3 l FF.N I Prologue l Ch 1 l Ch 2 l Ch 3 l Ch 4 l Ch 5 l Ch 6 l Ch 7 l Ch 8 l

Also, check out Behind the Scenes if you haven’t already, and see how I almost wrote the story!

Chapter 9

The sacred text of Killian's religion uses many ways to describe heaven and hell. There is the physical heaven or the sky; it's decreed that there are seven levels of sky, or seven heavens, one above the other. The seven heavens are also used in a spiritual sense, they are often referred to as Paradise and are described as beautiful gardens filled with greenery and flowing water. There are several gardens in Paradise and the highest garden is reserved for the most righteous of believers. The Underworld refers to the concept of hell, an afterlife of punishment for evildoers, and is also divided into seven levels, each one more severe than the one above it. The lowest depth of hell is a bottomless abyss reserved for hypocrites and infidels.

Killian can only imagine that being lonely in the highest garden of Paradise is the same as being lonely in the bottomless pit of the Underworld.

The loneliness he had felt since Milah's death had slowly crept in and created a void in his heart, not even his best friend, his mother or sister could fill. That void had been slowly eating away at him, and Killian had feared his heart, his world, would be nothing but emptiness and darkness. That is until Emma appeared in his life. Now his heart blossoms with what he can only describe as love. Yes, he is in love with Emma, his Gozde, and since he has taken her to his bed, she is now his Ikbal.

The sacred text paints several descriptive representations of heaven and hell. At one point, Killian had a clear picture in his mind of the difference between heaven and hell, but it was brief, and that vision had disappeared almost as soon as it had appeared to him. Once Milah was gone, he’d come to the conclusion that if he were to spend his life alone, then wherever he goes in the afterlife, heaven or hell, doesn't really matter to him. Either would be the same. But with Emma in his arms, her heavenly body pressed up against his and her lovely limbs entangled with his, he finally knows what it's like to be in the highest garden of Paradise.

He has to peel himself away from her for a moment just to admire her beauty. He takes immense pleasure watching his sleeping minx; there is nothing more bewitching to him, his eyes drinking in every inch of skin not hidden by the silk sheet, which is draped elegantly over her hip. She lies on her side facing him, black kohl smudged against her cheek. The silhouette of her curves leads his gaze over her stomach and over the dip of her belly button. When his eyes reach her firm, beautiful breasts with rose-tipped nipples, he finds it difficult to look away without first kissing each one. But he'd much rather wait until she's awake so he can enjoy and appreciate her reactions. He aches to hear those lovely sounds pour from her lips, he yearns to watch her face light up like a starry night as her body sings in blissful pleasure. His gaze appreciatively roams over her long, slender neck and the outline of her jaw and cheekbones. She undoubtedly reminds him of an angel, with silken smooth skin, soft curves and luscious golden curls splayed over the pillow in disarray.

Brushing his hand over her hip and down her bare leg under the sheet, he loves the way her skin feels beneath his fingertips, so silky and soft like flower petals. As his fingers roam up and down her leg, he can smell the perfume of her sex from the previous night as it still lingers in the air, rousing him.

His angel stirs a little, stretching out like a tigress as she slowly wakes. Arching her back, she presses her body into his, humming softly in content. A low growl tears from his throat as he feels her nipples against his chest hair, his groin stirring to life as he continues to touch her skin. He’s afraid he will never be able to get enough of her. As he strokes her thigh, he lifts his head, whispering in her ear, “Morning love.” He noses her ear lobe, his lips curving into a smirk as he breathes in her scent. “You smell delicious.”

Emma smiles, her eyes fluttering open. His heart starts racing when her emerald green eyes pierce into his blue ones. He moves his hand back down her leg toward her knee and throws her leg over his hip before slipping his hand between her thighs. She's soaking wet, which was either caused by him touching her or because she was having pleasant dreams. Judging by her mouth, which opens in pleasure, her flushed cheeks that weren't quite the same shade a moment ago and the desire in her eyes, he believes both to be true. “And so incredibly wet for me.”

Emma takes him by surprise when she grabs his face and presses her mouth to his, lazily slipping her tongue into his inviting mouth, her nipples protruding against his skin. He groans, massaging her tongue with his and shifting them, so she is on her back. He pins one of her arms over her head with one hand, and with the other, he holds himself up as he deepens the kiss, threading his fingers through hers. They breathe each other in every time their lips move, and soon his manhood is hard and throbbing against her stomach. Emma parts her creamy thighs, and he settles between them, moving the head of his shaft along her folds as he grinds into his goddess, her nectar coating his length. Everything becomes a pleasant blur, his head spinning as he penetrates her slick warmth.

“Oh, God…” she whimpers, her sleep-laced words completely cracked and shattered.

Her legs are wrapped snug around his hips and he’s pounding into her with lazy but persistent thrusts, bringing her at his mercy once more. She moves her hips with his, her walls drawing him in as deep as possible. She feels so good around him, he struggles to keep himself up with one arm. So he releases her hand, using both of his to hold himself above her.

She reaches up and pulls his face to hers, kissing him hard on the mouth once more. She sucks on his bottom lip as he moves rhythmically, hitting the right spot inside of her that will soon have her seeing stars. He's on the verge of being there with her. She feels so good, he's about to burst. Lightly biting his lip, she runs her hands over his body, touching everything she can reach, her hands moving to his back and trailing down his spine to his butt, squeezing the firm, muscular flesh in her hands and pressing him into her.

Killian groans and buries his face in her neck, enjoying the feel of her tight walls wrapped around his cock. He’s quickening his pace and soon feeling himself getting closer to his peak. He is completely lost. Lost in their haze of hungry passion. Lost in her.

His lover writhes underneath him as she crescendos, needy moans singing from her lips as the waves of pleasure roll through her body. Killian can feel it, her walls tightening around him, pulling him in deeper. His eyes are fluttering shut as he feels his body tense. A raspy groan crawls from the back of his throat as his seed bursts inside of his lovely goddess, his hips slamming into her a few more times before stilling. His erection receding, his cock slips out of her and he slumps into her, using his strength to hold him up a bit so he doesn't crush her as he buries his face in her lovely breasts, using them as soft cushions. Her heart is pounding in his ear as she combs her hands through his hair, both of them trying to breathe again. He stays like that for a while and enjoys kissing this beautiful woman, running his fingers along her naked curves. Sleep once again grips them and they fall into a peaceful slumber.

~*~

When Emma wakes again from a wispy sleep, she feels content and satisfied; she doesn’t wish to move but knows she must get back to the women’s quarters. The Sultan is still sleeping, so she quietly and carefully disentangles her body from his and sits up on the edge of the bed. Her thighs are still wet from their activities and she bites her bottom lip as the memories of last night and early morning flood her mind. God, why does he have to affect her like this? She could’ve easily gone without these feelings blooming in her chest, but Killian has awakened something inside of her, and she doesn’t hate it. In fact, she rather enjoys the rush of euphoria and pure bliss flowing through her veins. She doesn't want it to end.

Emma’s sleepy eyes wander around the room in search of her clothes, but before she can stand from the bed to fetch them, a pair of strong arms are wrapping around her from behind.

“Where do you think you’re going, love?” he asks, pushing her golden tresses away from her face to shower her cheek and ear with soft kisses.

Emma laughs as his beard tickles her skin. “Custom demands I return to the harem by dawn.” As the words leave her lips, she regrets them, her heart aching at the thought of leaving him, and despite her words, her body melts into his touch.

Killian growls, “As the Sultan, I demand you stay.” Before Emma can protest, he takes her hand and pulls her in his arms where he lays against the mattress so she’s lying atop him.

Emma does not bother to argue. “Well if my Sultan demands it, then I must obey.”

He responds by retracting a hand from her body and swatting her bottom, making her moan in delight. "You're mine," he growls playfully in her ear and squeezes her butt firmly in his grip. "All mine."

She giggles, actually giggles, for probably the first time in a very long while.

“Mmmm, that is my favorite sound,” he murmurs against her ear as he presses a kiss there.

Emma’s entire body tingles, her skin still very sensitive after her three orgasms. “What’s that?” she asks, closing her eyes to relish the feel of his lips as he leaves a trail of kisses from behind her ear to the crook of her neck.

He lowers his head against the pillow and gazes up at her, his blue eyes twinkling. “Your laugh,” he answers, a smile overtaking his lips. “It’s music to my ears.”

The sincerity of his words sends her heart soaring. Emma finds herself grinning from ear to ear as her fingers stroke his scruff covered cheek. He kisses her lips sweetly and softly, his hand sliding through her hair.

“Please stay, my swan."

��Again, my Sultan? I don't know if I am physically able,” she laughs.

“No, love, it's been three full moons since the last time I've been with a woman and I could go several more rounds with you,” he says quirking a brow suggestively, “but in all honesty, I would rather simply spend time with you, if that's what you wish too, of course.” His expression saddens, his eyes darkening a bit. “I cannot bear for you to leave my presence yet.”

Emma can hear the pain in his words. The thought of her leaving him might break him. And in all honesty, she doesn’t wish to go. She nods, her thumb brushing over his cheek. “I’ll stay.”

A grin takes over his entire face and he kisses her once more. Emma presses her body against his, seeking his tongue with hers and writhing in his arms.

“You keep that up and you're going to make me hard again,” he growls, and Emma’s smirking, not opposed to the idea. But they know they must stop before things become heated between them again. Emma wants to be able to walk again when she has to leave his bedchamber.

So, they get up, and Killian puts on his robe before calling for a slave to bring a robe for Emma, some fruit juice and sweet cakes. He also tells them to send a message to Mother Superior letting her know that Emma will be staying with him for the morning. He takes her robe and drapes the silk fabric over her shoulders and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Come, love, join me on the terrace,” he beckons, extending his hand.

She slips her hand in his, allowing him to lead her outside, and he sits on the couch, pulling her into his lap. The servants give them odd looks as they serve them food and drinks, but they do not dare say a word and are quickly dashing away, bowing their heads.

As the sun rises against the colorfully painted sky, a soft breeze sweeps around them. The air is the perfect temperature, especially for being only dressed in robes, and any coolness the wind brings them only means they have to snuggle closer for warmth.

They eat the sweet cakes and drink from their chalices in peace, basking in the sun and the other’s embrace. Emma doesn’t remember the last time she has felt this content.

When they are finished eating, the servants take away the trays and leave them be. Emma and Killian remain on the couch where they chat and adore each other's company.

“My ancestors, the former sultans… they all murdered their half brothers or commanded it, so they would not feel threatened when they took the throne,” Killian murmurs, his hand caressing her arm as he holds her. “Liam and I both had the same father and mother. Maybe that's why we were close, but we made a promise when we were young that the throne would never come between us. If he were alive today, he would not have to be threatened by me. My family is more important than being sultan.”

Emma turns her head to peer up at him. She can see the wreckage in his eyes and knows he is telling the truth.

“When I have sons, I want them to be close like Liam and I were.”

She arches a brow in curiosity. Is he implying he wants the same mother for all of his sons? Or does that bond include half brothers too?

“Maybe that makes me less of a man in the eyes of my father,” he sighs deeply.

Emma shakes her head. “I don't think it would. It makes you honorable, and as power hungry as your father was, do you really think he wanted his sons to murder each other for the throne?”

“Aye, power makes us do unfathomable things. My father was once a good man… then he turned into a monster when his seat of the throne was threatened. I’m just afraid…” the words die in his throat and he swallows thickly.

Emma lifts her hand, soothing his cheek. “Tell me, what are you afraid of?”

He peers down at her, smiling weakly. “I’m afraid this power I have will change me, too.”

Emma is stunned he is opening up to her so much. “I don’t think that will happen. As long as you focus on what’s important to you, nothing will be able to change your heart.” Her words are soft and seem to comfort him as he cradles her hand with his and closes his eyes, just appreciating her kindness and the feel of her hand on his cheek.

Emma regales him with stories of her childhood to lighten the mood, and they spend the rest of the morning talking and laughing and just enjoying the other’s presence, trying not to think about the inevitable. Emma has to go back to the harem eventually, but neither is delighted by the idea, so they are determined to soak up as much time together as they possibly can.

Killian is unable to restrain himself from touching her though, kneading her skin under the robe. Emma feels his hand wander down her body and she gladly welcomes his advances. He pulls on the belt of her robe and the material falls open, exposing her midsection. Even though they’re outside, no one can actually see them, there are only his garden, the ocean and the sky in the distance. Killian strokes her breasts, and Emma succumbs to his touch, her body melting into his. She reclines back into his chest, parting her thighs slightly as her folds dampen with arousal. His touch feels so heavenly, even after their prior activities, she can’t get enough of those wonderful, strong hands, how they massage and tease her skin, how they grip her just enough to make her feel wanted and loved, but not enough to hurt her. He moves his hands over her stomach and her thighs, making her utterly weak once more. His fingers glide over her nub and it feels so good, Emma braces herself against his hand. Slowly he moves his fingers a little further until he finds her slit. She is incredibly wet.

He sinks his fingers inside her heat just enough to get the tips of them wet with her nectar and he slides them into his mouth to taste her.

He loves the way she tastes. She can feel him harden beneath her. His hands return to her thighs and he takes his time running his fingers over her slit, sinking his digits inside her. Soon she's slowly thrusting her hips, riding his fingers, soft moans pouring from her lips.

As he's stroking and kissing her and fingering her, he whispers gently in her ear, “I want to replace my fingers with my tongue,” he groans, flicking his thumb over her clit. “I want to taste you, darling. May I?”

Emma gasps at the thought of him using his tongue on her. She has no idea what that would feel like, but at this point, she is so lost in pleasure she's willing to let him do whatever he wants to her. She doesn't hesitate to nod her head.

Carefully he removes his hand from her core and lifts her from his lap and onto the couch. He repositions himself, sliding down to the ground and kneeling in front of her between her legs where he can access her. He opens up her robe more and kisses one of her nipples, which hardens underneath the soft caress of his lips. Emma cards her hands through his hair, unable to close her eyes or look away. She loves how sweet and gentle he is with her. She also likes when he's rough with her, but mostly she loves how he treats her. Her time with him has not been all about him, but her as well. About both of them getting caught up in one other. Of all the things she had expected from the previous evening, she hadn't expected this.

He moves to the other breast, kissing the stiff bud with the same tenderness and affection. He suckles her nipple, swirling his tongue around the bud before releasing it. He slowly moves down her body, leaving a trail of soft kisses in his wake, appreciating every inch of her skin on the way to her aching core. He takes her hips in his hands, pulling her to the edge of the couch and kisses her inner thigh. When he looks up at her, cerulean blue eyes shining with desire and perhaps even love, Emma shudders under his gaze, her face becoming flushed. Of all the men who have feasted their eyes upon her, none of them were as sincere or loving or kind as this man is now. His gaze alone sets her skin ablaze.

She takes a deep breath and continues to watch as he kisses her nub and then her folds. Emma spreads her legs wider for him, her arms the only thing keeping the robe on at this point as she lets them fall to her sides, exposing most of her body, and she can feel the warm autumn breeze sweeping over her. Her folds are glistening in the sun, waiting for him, and he licks his lips in anticipation as his eyes hungrily feast upon her.

Curling his arms under her thighs, he hauls her legs over his shoulders and leans in, running his tongue along her folds. Emma moans, her body melting into the couch. He groans and moves her blonde curls out of the way, opening her up with his fingers and sinking his tongue inside her warmth.

Her whole body shudders.

His tongue is exquisitely soft and warm and she grows wetter by the second as he takes his time stroking and flicking his tongue inside of her over and over. He can taste her flavor and his own come, a heady mixture of tang and salt on his tongue.

Moaning and writhing above him, she moves her hands through his hair, not forcing him into her, just indulging the feeling of his head between her thighs. “Killian…” she manages, her voice completely wrecked and shattered. She can feel her orgasm building deep within her and encourages him, not wanting him to stop.

And he doesn't, his tongue is too focused on giving her unimaginable pleasure, and at one point he reaches a hand to her breast and squeezes the soft weight and pinches her nipple.

He fondles her breasts, continuously switching from one to the other, his fingers pinching her pink buds while flicking his tongue against the pink bud in his mouth. He gives her a long broad lick and sucks her clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue over and over, moving it back and forth. She is close to exploding right there on the terrace couch, the pleasure is overwhelming, and he is intent on sending her over the edge.

She tugs on his hair, her body singing in pleasure, a slew of praises tumbling from her lips. The sensations overtaking her are becoming too much and she knows she's on the cusp of another orgasm. The feeling is all too familiar to her now. She starts to move her hips against his mouth, craving for more of what he's doing to her. Her excitement increases dramatically and she wants to come. Badly. She wants to come all over his face as he brings her to her mind-numbing demise.

She is so soft, and her nectar tastes so sweet and exquisite on his tongue, he doesn't want to stop. But he knows she's on the cusp of climaxing in his mouth. As much as he wants to continue, he also wants to give her sweet release. He's torn. He’s sucking her clit into his mouth again, flicking his tongue rapidly over her hard bud and slipping a finger into her heat, and then another. She is so slick, it takes no effort to move his fingers inside of her.

He can tell she's slipping into the next dimension as he’s feasting on her, fingering her and fondling her breasts, all in a similar rhythm and speed. It's a lethal combination and it's enough to bring her to the edge.

Her body starts to tense and he looks up at her, watching his goddess, glorying the way her head falls back, lips slightly parted as she moans, her face and chest all flushed and rosy, golden hair cascading over her shoulders in the sun. She is so beautiful and lovely like this. He doesn't want this to end, but continues to lick up her sweet flavor and suck on her pink pearl while moving his fingers in and out of her warmth. Increasing his speed, he brings her higher and higher until her whole body convulses and she arches her back, letting out a deep moan the entire palace can probably hear as she orgasms in his mouth, her lovely ambrosia coating his chin and cheeks. Her body trembles for a moment as the rush of her climax washes over her. He feels both of her hands on the sides of his face, pulling him up toward her, and he obeys, touching his forehead to hers.

She whispers her thanks and kisses him roughly, tasting herself on her lips. When they break for air, he stands before her, stretching out his legs and licking his lips and fingers. The sight alone makes her whimper. His robe is open, exposing his lean torso, well-muscled thighs and his hard, aching cock which springs from a patch of dark curls. His length glistens in the sun with her nectar from their earlier activities, and her mouth salivates. She can't wait to taste him.

She reaches for him and strokes his rather large erection, feeling the tip of him and wipes the precum around the velvety head and down his shaft with her thumb. God, he feels good in her hand, her core surges with warmth and she’s clenching her thighs together to suppress her excitement. She doesn't think she can take him again so soon anyway, she's still aching and pleasantly sore. “How is that, My Sultan?”

“Gods,” he groans, his hips rutting into her touch. “So good.”

She stands and kisses him deeply, moving her hand up and down his length, keeping him hard. It's her turn to take control. Though she wants to guide him to her entrance and feel his gorgeous cock inside her once more, soreness be damned, she strongly fights the urge.

She’s on her knees before he has a chance to protest, which she's sure he wouldn't if he could, lightly suckling his velvety head and taking his slick cock in her waiting mouth. She moans around his length, tasting the saltiness of his precum and the tanginess of her own nectar on his shaft.

Now, Emma may not have experience in this department, but she's seen erotic paintings of women in this same position, taking their men with their mouths. Judging by the way Killian’s mouth falls open when she’s peering up at him, the drawn-out groans crawling from his throat and the way his eyes roll to the back of his head as he slides his hands through her hair, she knows she must be doing something right. So she uses his reactions as her guide; the more positive his response, the more she increases the particular ministration.

She licks up and down his length and draws him in her mouth again—the thing he seems to respond to with the most enthusiasm—repeating this action over and over, and soon he’s moving his hips toward her, seeking more friction. He never takes his eyes off her and their eyes are locked in a heated gaze as he cradles her jaw in his hands, not forcing her on him, just delighting the way her muscles move every time she draws him into her mouth as he watches his cock disappear past her lips. She quickens the pace and takes him deeper, as deep as she can, and since his cock is big, not that she has anything to compare it to other than what she has seen in paintings, she can’t quite fit him all the way in her mouth, so she uses her hand, pumping him lightly to compensate. Soon, he’s singing his praises as his muscles convulse, and his seed pours into her mouth. Emma moans in delight at tasting what he has been pouring inside of her both that morning and last night. She swallows it down, savoring the salty flavor on her tongue and the way his sticky cum slides down her throat.

Killian's legs are shaking underneath him, so they return to the couch. He holds her in his arms, both of them taking a while to relax and compose themselves, luxuriating in the aftermath of their love. Eventually, they stand up and play two games of chess on the terrace. The first, she plays cautiously, thinking he might let her win again, but she only sets up her own failure and loses. She takes the second round from him with reckless abandon, and he laughs as she checks his queen.

“I have never been beaten by a woman at chess, love, you are the only one with such a privilege.”

“Well, you should get used to being beaten by me,” she says with a smirk.

“We shall see about that,” he teases playfully. He stands from his seat, pulling her into his arms and kissing her breathlessly, but they both know there is truth in her words; he very much has his hands full with this one, and not just literally. Emma turns in his arms and they both stare out over the sea, just enjoying each other’s warmth and presence.

The morning is quite like a dream and neither wish to wake, but eventually Mother Superior sends a servant for her, pulling them back to reality.

Killian actually pouts, much like a ten-year-old boy does when playtime is over. He has to get back to his imperial duties, but he’d much rather spend the entire day with her. He dreads parting ways with her as they both dress in the clothes they had worn the evening prior.

“Will you return tonight?” he asks hopefully as they reach the door where Nemo is waiting for Emma. Killian's eyes adore her as he wraps his arms around her and buries his face in the crook of her neck, peppering sweet kisses over her skin.

“You have to officially summon me,” she laughs, and at the same time does not want to leave his embrace at all.

He lifts his head, smirking suggestively, causing Emma’s cheeks to burn crimson. “You will be summoned.”

Her heart flutters at the promise. “Good.”

Before she knows what’s happening, he swoops her up in his arms and strides over the threshold, carrying her down the hall. Nemo follows behind them, baffled but hiding a small smirk. Emma is both surprised and amused as he actually carries her to her suite. The guards do not dare to flinch.

“You know I can walk with my own two feet,” she whispers in a mild attempt of protest.

“I know, swan, but I’d much rather carry you.”

The maidens of the harem all gasp when he appears with her in his arms, and they immediately stop what they’re doing and bow their heads as Killian carries Emma upstairs and into her chamber. She is swooning when he puts her down, and it’s only partly caused by the flight.

“I will see you tonight, my princess,” he bids her farewell.

Just when Emma thinks she cannot possibly melt anymore than she already has, he presses a kiss to the back of her hand, and she’s surprised she is not a puddle of water by the time he leaves her. To think, she had been so nervous prior to their evening together, but now she is floating in blissful happiness, carefree as a bird soaring through the sky.

After he’s gone, Emma stands on her terrace and gazes over the sea, appreciating the pleasant afternoon breeze. Still high on the euphoria flooding through her veins, she thinks about his kisses and soft caresses, growing warm at the memories. She begins to wonder if she is in love or if she is simply wanton. But she knows she had enjoyed more than the physical aspect of their time together, so perhaps she is both. But her reality is shattered when it occurs to her that the power she has over him may only be temporary. Even if she becomes pregnant with his child, he will eventually have to seek out another concubine to take to his bed. Women are forbidden from engaging in intercourse while they are pregnant, for they may hurt the baby and have a miscarriage. And Killian may have waited three full moons for her, but nine, give or take? There is no way a Sultan as young and healthy as he is will wait that long. Tears prick her eyes at the thought.

Even with the power she has now and the power she will gain as his wife, she will have to accept the fact that he may eventually summon one of the other concubines, and possibly one of her friends, one who may bear him another child and become his Kadin as well. She will have to be happy with this and pretend as though it doesn't hurt painfully. But the mere thought is suffocating. As a woman who has grown up in the western part of the world, she was taught monogamy and was raised by her parents with the belief that there is only one person for everyone, and if they are lucky, one true love. As a young girl, she could not have fathomed the idea that one man could have four wives. The thought makes her heart constrict, but she knows she will have to find a way to accept this.

Emma leaves the terrace and heads to her private bath where her bath attendants remove her clothing, sponge her with warmed, perfumed water, and place a robe over her shoulders. Dismissing them, she returns to her chamber, relaxing upon her couch.

“You returned late," Elsa comments with a smirk and plops down next to her. “How was your time with him?”

Emma blushes, a blissful smile overtaking her lips. “It was….” she pauses, not knowing exactly how to describe it in words, “it was magical, I suppose. He was kind and sweet and… he took care of me.” Her cheeks burn red as she tries to explain her night with the Sultan without giving too much away.

Elsa beams, her eyes flickering with excitement. “I'm so happy for you,” she replies, and Emma knows her friend is being sincere. If there is anyone Emma can trust in the harem, it's Elsa. They talk some more and then Elsa returns to her oda, allowing Emma to take a nap.

A few hours later, she receives the summons from the Sultan, and her friends and some other maidens gather around the Ikbal excitedly in her suite. They sit around the couch and cushions, gushing as they ask her about her evening with the Sultan and are served sherberts, fresh fruit and coffee.

Emma doesn’t go into too much detail, but she is smiling the entire time, her eyes twinkling with pride and admiration as she speaks of her time with him.

“Do you think you will become pregnant with his prince?” Anna asks curiously.

Emma pats her belly and blushes. “I have no way of knowing that yet, but I am hopeful.”

The Chief Eunuch comes bearing gifts for Emma from the Sultan, in honor of their first night together, silencing the pleasant chatter and giggles.

“My lady, most blessed and fortunate, I bring you gifts from our Lord, Sultan Killian. May he live a thousand years! He sends these tokens of his affection for you and asks that you join him this evening at the ninth hour.”

The Eunuch presents her with many gifts—bags of gold coins, beautiful shawls and jewelry he had made himself, because, like all Neverland Sultans, he has many skills. She receives some gold bracelets, a necklace, matching earrings and a heart-shaped ruby ring that she slips proudly on her finger, admiring it reverently with wide eyes and a soft smile. She is overwhelmed with emotions, still feeling their several encounters of passion deep in her bones, the excitement of the moment and the possibilities of the future. Her fear of him taking another concubine is temporarily forgotten. Another eunuch accompanies Nemo and presents her with an elaborate treasure chest with more gifts, including beautiful clothing, hairbrushes and much more. Emma is stunned and speechless by the Sultan’s generosity.

“Tell our gracious lord his slave thanks him for these lovely gifts and I shall obey his command and join him at the ninth hour this evening.” She knows he doesn’t consider her as a slave, but she also knows it’s better to keep that to herself.

The Eunuchs bow and leave Emma's suite. Her friends seem happy for her, though Merida brutally reminds her this may only be temporary and the Sultan will eventually summon another maiden; Emma wonders if she is hiding her jealousy. Elsa, however, scolds the redhead and tells her not to spoil this moment, but Emma knows Merida is right. She must not let this all go to her head, because it can all be taken from her as quickly as it had appeared.

Nevertheless, Emma will always remember her first time with Sultan, the night she had given him her maidenhood, with a twinkle in her eye and a blissful smile on her face.

Tagging: @andiirivera @kingofmyheart14 @courtorderedcake @teamhook @onceuponaprincessworld @nikkiemms @followbatb @resident-of-storybrooke @hollyethecurious @snowbellewells @artistic-writer @ultraluckycatnd @kmomof4 @darkcolinodonorgasm @lovepurplepumpkins @kiwistreetswan @therooksshiningknight @deathbycaptainswan @tiganasummertree @superchocovian @emeraldwitches @melly326

#cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan #cs smut #princess emma #sultan killian #the princess and her sultan #my fic

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snowbellewells · 4 years ago

Text

“Thick as Thieves (or Princesses)”

I hope you will enjoy my first brand new one shot in quite a while. It’s written for the lovely Alma ( @teamhook ) for the #love4teamhook collection. Though I realize this didn't happen in canon, I consider it more a divergent missing moment which could have happened than fully AU. Killian did seem to make friends with a lot of the various princesses who came and went on "Once", until it sort of seemed like he had a Princess Squad. This story came from that.

Alma, it’s my hope that this little sidetrip to Agrabah might bring a few chuckles as welll as some heartwarming fluff.

Summary: When Killian, Emma, and the Storybrooke crew travel to Agrabah for the wedding of Aladdin and Jasmine, our pirate learns just how many people have his back.

Also available on AO3 here

“Thick as Thieves (or Princesses)”

by: @snowbellewells

“And the visitors are no better! What are Queen Snow and her Charming thinking accepting a pirate for a son-in-law… with his reputation and that hook?”

She gave them an arched brow and waited; a clear challenge to direct their taunts and barbs to her face.

Shaking their heads in nervous denial the two women quickly excused themselves and hurried from the room without looking back.

Shaking her head, Emma breathed out a sigh, hoping to shrug off her consternation, knowing said pirate would be waiting for her just outside.

He gave a small nod of affirmation, clearly understanding her. “Aye, that does seem to be the way of it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Two please,” he told the server when it was his turn.

“I - I believe so,” the server stammered rather uncertainly.

“Well, my compliments. It is one of the better libations I’ve had the pleasure of imbibing.”

It was as he had turned away, heading back to Emma at their table, that he heard the words whispered behind him. “Well, he would know, wouldn’t he?” hissed one lowered voice.

“Word has it he’s found the bottom of more liquor bottles than most people have ever seen,” countered another insinuating murmur.

His hasty retreat was abruptly blocked however, by two dainty feet in golden and turquoise-jeweled sandals, barely skimmed by the hem of a long, white silk gown standing right in his way.

“Be that as it may, Lass, there’s no need for you to trouble yourself over my hurt feelings. They weren’t wrong, after all…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killian nodded his agreement, but a furrow of concern still creased his forehead. “Aye, Love, of course you’re right, but still - ”

Tagging a few others who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @revanmeetra87 @xsajx @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @therooksshiningknight @spartanguard @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @hollyethecurious @gingerchangeling @kday426 @profdanglaisstuff @shireness-says @thisonesatellite @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @let-it-raines

#love4teamhook #cs ff #ouat canon divergence #ouat missing moment #thick as thieves (or princesses)#cs one shot #ouat one shot

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