#crown for two fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

royallyprincesslilly · 1 year

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Title: Crown For Two {9}

Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton

Warning: Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes, Fluff,

Words: 8.2k

Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.

Her slogan: “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”

Her next stop on her four-destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated.

This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. She explores and meets the friendly locals. One local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.

As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.

Note: AND WE’RE BACK!!! It’s December again which means we all need a cheesy Christmas romance. 😁 I know this has been gone for a long, long time and I am thankful for each of you who still care about it. As a reminder, it’s going to be fast-paced a bit, and I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.

As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} | {3} | {4} | {5} | {6} | {7} | {8} |

-Y/N-

“Hey you’ve reached Neka. I’m too busy living my life the way I want to and can’t be bothered to answer. Leave a message and I’ll call you back. If I want to.”

You sighed hearing your sister’s very familiar voicemail message.

“Aneka, it’s me. Where are you? I get this place is obscenely huge and there is plenty to explore but pick up the damn phone. Let me know you’re okay.”

You ended the call and sighed again as you made sure you had everything in your purse. A few moments later, you stopped thinking again about going to this thing. Half of you was telling you it was a bad idea and that you should stay away from everything related to this country including its crown prince. However, the other side was traitorous and telling you to run carefree and live by the seat of your panties and take them off for said crown prince.

What’s the worst that could happen? You recognized the question from the carefree and often diabolical devil on your shoulder.

Humiliation and heartbreak are what. The words from the practical and cautious angel on the other side of your shoulder piped up.

You stood there thinking about both sides for a few moments then continued putting items into your purse.

Good girl, live a little, have some fun and get a few orgasms at the same time. Win/win. The devil was on a roll.

It is all fun and games until you get your heart broken by an actual prince who has obligations to be with someone other than you.

The angel’s words were like a gut punch. It was right.

MSG Aneka: I’m sorry RiRi. I’m going to this thing in the park. You should come I hear it’s a lot of fun.

Your sister never ceased to amaze you. She’d found out about the citizen’s Brexenavide on her own and was already in the thick of it. She had no problem going with the flow and having a good time when she saw it could be had. You sighed again, finally deciding to just do it. However, a few minutes after making the decision you scowled remembering who you’d be driving with.

There was something about this Freddie girl that rubbed you the wrong way. Something about her that screamed she was not to be trusted and that included enough to be in the same car. You groaned because you’d long left high school and the petty turf wars of petty bitches behind. You were an adult now who had bills and obligations and checking a rich bitch wasn’t one of them. A smirk spread across your face as you came to the realization that you were happy to rise to the occasion though. After looking yourself over, you divided to change. While your current outfit was cute, one look outside said you needed something warmer.

At that thought there was a knock at your door. When you opened it, you found a honey eyed member of the staff you recognized. She smiled and bowed her head slightly.

“Ms. Xari. I come with a message from Princess Jemma.”

Recognition hit you then, “Tamina, right?”

She smiled wider and nodded, clearly delighted you remembered her.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Come in, please.”

“No need ma’am. This is from the princess. She wanted you to have it for the event today. Her direct message is to wear it and it will ensure no one will be able to take their eyes off of you.”

What the hell did that mean? You reached out to Tamina and took the two garment bags that were lying across her forearms.

“Thank you, Tamina. Please thank the princess.”

Tamina bowed again before walking off. When you turned back into your room you staggered to the bed from the weight of the items in your arms and laid the bags across your bed. Unzipping the first one, your eyes widened at the sight of a chic, and beautiful outfit resting there. The items looked designer, and no doubt must have costed several thousand dollars. Your hand brushed against the shiny leather of the pants and instantly recognized it was high quality. It went perfect with the cropped knitted sweater that rested just atop it.

You didn’t know how Jemma knew you were a sucker for leather pants, but you were busting at the seams to try them on. Every woman needed a great pair of leather pants that made their ass pop. You reached for the second bag and opened it and gasped. A plush fur coat that brought the whole thing together waited for you to touch it. You were so tempted, and that temptation proved to be too much. When your fingers entangled in the fur, you cooed. It was perfect. Leather and fur, how luxurious, you thought.

When in Rome, or Brexendor. Live a little. The angel on your shoulder had a point. Within minutes, you’d peeled off your own clothing and changed into the ones sent by Jemma. Surprisingly they were a perfect fit. The moment you buttoned the pants you sighed. They were made for you. Once you’d pulled it all together, you stood in front of the full-length mirror in the room and surveyed your look from every angle. Every angle passed the test. You looked damn good. For the final test, you dropped down like you were doing the beat drop challenge and kept your eyes on your ass. A wide grin spread across your face.

“Thank you, Jemma!”

You hurried into the closet, remembering you’d already packed the perfect boots to wear with this outfit. When you’d packed, Aneka had made fun of you saying you were going to slip on a patch of ice and break your neck because of them. You didn’t bother telling her it would never happen because no one pays nearly nine hundred dollars for boots that were designed for cold weather in mind with the chance of said boots sending you to your death because they couldn’t hold up. You’d worn these two times before and they’d never failed you.

Standing in front of the mirror again, this time in the knee-high fur heeled boots you smirked. Jemma’s words came to mind then.

“Wear it and it will ensure no one will be able to take their eyes off of you.”

You wondered if Henry would be among those who couldn’t keep their eyes off of you. Memories of the night before flooded your mind and within seconds you were frozen reminiscing of the way his hands felt against your skin, the scent of his breath as he moaned against your ear, the taste of his lips and the intensity in his eyes when his locked with yours. You had to put a hand out to stabilize yourself because the thought of his body pressing on top of yours made your knees buck

With much effort, you pulled yourself back to reality. If you thought about him any longer you knew you’d be on edge all day which you guessed would be akin to torture. There was a nagging feeling inside of you that told you that you’d need to be alert today. After checking your make up once more, you grabbed your purse and phone then made your way downstairs. As you passed by the staff you stopped for small talk, inquiring about everyone’s health and thanking them for all they’d done for you thus far. Each of them looked surprised but more than happy to stop and chat with you.

When you stepped outside into the entry roundabout of the palace, you saw a long line of cars waiting and plenty of bustling bodies still in preparing mode for the departure. You watched the dignitaries load in their cars and pull off one by one. From the looks of all this pomp and flair, you knew this event was much more than just meeting the citizens. Perhaps this was a test of some sorts. You saw the man who’d been introduced as the prime minister do a quick perimeter check, surveying the around area before he looked in your direction. You expected him to get into the car as normal, but he didn’t. Instead, he stared in your direction and the longer he did the more the hairs on the back of your neck stood like your entire being was trying to tell you something about the man.

The feel of someone touching your left elbow startled you.

“My apologies Lady Thornton,” said one of the palace butlers.

“It’s all right.”

“Your car.”

His hand stretched to the left at a silver car with its door open and waiting. Through the window, you could see the woman who’d so eagerly offered herself and her car to get you to the event. You were under no false pretenses about her sincerity in doing so. There was something more to her supposedly kind offer. You weren’t in a hurry to find out just how much more but from the way you’d caught her looking at Henry the night of the ball you had your guesses. You allowed the butler to direct you to the car and see you inside.

As soon as you sat, the woman across from you pasted a smile on her face. It was one of those basic instinct smiles, a smile that housed a thousand lies, and a thousand and one daggers.

“Xari, darling!”

Your eyes widened. It had been a while since you’d been around this level of fake.

“Thank you offering to get me to the event,” you breached.

She smiled wider, if that was possible then leaned closer and took your hand in hers. “No thank you needed, dear. I have always been keen on helping those less fortunate.”

You heard the bells of a boxing match in your head. She’d started round one.

“Wow, um--.”

“What a cute outfit you’ve chosen for yourself. I worried your tastes would be too—tactless for what the Brexendor press are used to, but I am surprised to see tactlessness will be missing from the day, at least in your outfit.”

You cocked your head to the side. How did she manage to make so many insults sound so pleasant? You stifled a snort because thanks to your upbringing you’d been forced to go through debutant classes where you learned everything from etiquette to the art of polite disrespect. It was a southern thing. Those classes had prepared you to deal with the southern aunties, upper class grandmothers and quite a few socialites who thought they were better than everyone else because they had a trust fund and a rotation of cars for every day of the week.

You opened your mouth to speak but the door on the right of the car opened first. First it was your sister, Aneka who ducked inside and sat beside you, then Albee, the man with the pretty eyes from the ball who sat beside Freddie.

“Aneka?”

She looped her arm with yours and smiled. “I thought you’d left already?”

“I was but I got—distracted,” she said coyly smiling at Albee who smirked right back.

“What are you doing in my car, Albee? Though I know yours is far less luxurious than mine I am sure you have your own car,” Freddie cheeked.

Albee didn’t look fazed in the least, instead he smirked and made himself more comfortable in his seat. “Freddie you are aware that we are the same rank, correct?”

“Duchess Frederica,” she retorted through clenched teeth.

Albee scoffed. “Freddie. We’re all friends here, no need for titles. Only those who feel themselves more important than you truly are need to lean on such trivial things.”

Freddie glared at him with one brow raised.

“Since you are offering transport, I humbly accept your offer. Driver, carry on.”

Before Freddie could reply, the car took motion, and she didn’t look one bit happy about it. You and Aneka exchanged glances speaking through them as you usually did. You were tempted to bust out your secret language from when you were kids but didn’t want to come off as intentionally rude. This was a tit for tat game.

“And who are you?”

Freddie’s calculating eyes landed on Aneka, but she didn’t shrink back, Aneka instead raised her brow and put on a sugar sweet smile on her face.

“Aneka, Xari’s sister.”

Freddi’s eyebrow darted upward as she took both of you in. “So there are two less fortunate souls that need our charity.”

“The only thing unfortunate is your dye job. Did you pay for that?”

The fire in Freddie’s eyes sparked and you saw Aneka had struck a nerve. It was after all her specialty.

“Oh don’t tease dear Freddie about her hair. She loves it more than Jesus and little children,” Albee teased.

“Children are disgusting,” she added never taking her eyes off of Aneka.

“Interesting. That is not what I recall you telling the queen just a few weeks ago. What was it? Oh, I do so love children and cannot wait until I can become a mother. I do believe it is my life’s purpose.”

You couldn’t help but snort. Dipping your head to the side to hide in Aneka’s shoulder you snickered.

“I knew I scented fake on you, but I didn’t know it was this much of it,” Aneka added.

“Fake? Are we talking about fake as in your supposed Gucci shoes or perhaps that atrocity you call hair atop your head? That level of fake?”

Aneka lunged forward but your hand across her chest like a theme park ride safety bar stopped her.

“Ri, Aneka began but the look you gave her stopped any further words.

“So your hair is a sore topic? Remember that before you even attempt to go toe to toe with me.”

You could hear Aneka’s teeth grinding. You knew she had it in her to beat Freddie’s ass in record time then step out the car without so much as a scratch on her. However, this was not the place and definitely not the time. You didn’t want to offend the queen or the family especially with the level of hospitality they were currently showing you both.

“Take it easy Freddie. We wouldn’t want a repeat of what happened two Christmases ago. I don’t think the gossip would die down so quickly this time,” Albee cautioned.

The look Freddie gave him could have frozen anyone’s heart, but he didn’t look bothered at all. His smile was bright as he met the challenge of her icy gaze. It was clear that this was normal for the two of them. Either this was a huge scheme between them to dupe the newcomer or the two disliked each other.

“Why am I not surprised that you have found yet another commoner to slum it with. Do you not have any sense of pride or self-worth? Do you not feel them beneath you?”

Aneka made a move to lunge at Freddie again, but you held firmly to her and brought her attention to look out the window.

“Tsk, Tsk Freddie. Where is your decorum? My sense of pride and worth were never in question. Yours however—I can after all say I have never had a lifelong pursuit of someone who didn’t want me in the slightest bit.”

You tucked that bit of information away for when you were alone to dissect it. All conversation stopped and you pointed things out to Aneka. Everything you pointed out Albee took it upon himself to either explain or give backstory to. It was interesting the information he revealed about the country. It was clear from his voice he also loved his home. With every other sentence he spoke, Freddie had a snide remark for. Either it was something to make him look bad or to point out how out of bounds you were to even be here.

Thankfully, the car pulled into the destination when it did because you were quickly approaching the limit to your acceptance and ability to turn the other cheek. You looked at all the things that were set up for this event. Off to the side where the path was fully paved, there were stations set up for snacks, drinks, souvenirs, pictures and a few other things such as arts and crafts. Across the massive open field there was plenty to do. The car rolled past a toboggan area where children and adults were already speeding down the steep slope having a fabulous time. There was even an ice-skating rink that looked like the perfect photo-op to showcase how picturesque this country really was. You caught sight of other stalls set up with games, even child and family friendly park rides and even animals for petting.

“Wow, give me this over a ball any day,” Aneka said.

Freddie scoffed, rolling her eyes, “Gauche,” she hissed.

The car door opened but before Freddie could make a move you slammed it shut again and locked it. You’d had enough.

“I have sat here this entire car ride and listened to your disrespect and belittlement of myself, and my sister and I let you get it all out because I know those who feel threatened the most always feel the need to wail and moan about it so their voices are the ones heard the loudest to distract from how insignificant they truly feel and are.”

Freddie’s eyes blazed. She opened her mouth to speak but you continued, keeping your voice steady. “I wasn’t going to point out your insignificance, but I feel I must now. If you had any respect for yourself, your country and people you would shut your mouth and practice a little thing we call in America and by we, I mean women with mine and Aneka’s hair, call self-restraint and self-love. Because you would truly understand that you reflect upon your country and people. It is very telling of your low intelligence when all you can do is attempt to make others feel lowly about themselves because you put so much value on wealth. This holier than thou act will only lead to one thing in your life, shame and loneliness. Though I think you are fully aware of the loneliness part. You can’t make me feel bad about myself because I know my worth and it is astronomically higher than yours and we both know he sees that.”

Freddie sputtered clearly trying to find the words for a comeback. You gave her a good five seconds to compute but even that wasn’t enough. Poor little Tink Tink, you thought as you unlocked the door. It opened as soon as you did like the driver had been trying the entire time. You didn’t wait for her to climb out you took the initiative and took the driver’s hand and climbed out of the car holding onto Aneka’s hand bringing her with you.

As soon as you stepped out of the car, you caught Henry’s eye. His brows were burrowed and there was a look of concern on his face. You gave him a polite smile and head nod as you rounded the car. Slowly, he brought his attention to the group of men before him. Albee stepped beside you then leaned close to your ear.

“She has fangs,” he whispered.

You smirked, “And my bite and bark are both deadly.”

His smile widened as he tipped his invisible hat to you.

“I like you,” Albee added as the line of dignitaries began moving. “And I can see why he likes you too.”

His voice was lower this time, but it was his words that had you stumbling. Thanks to Aneka’s grip on your arm, it was barely noticeable. Thank goodness too because the press were hungrily snapping pictures of everyone and everything. You and the others stood to the side as Henry, the queen and Jemma shook hands and took the lead in the festivities. Your eyes couldn’t help but follow Henry as he shook the hands of several people while exchanging pleasantries. His smile was wide and the gleam in his eyes said he was genuinely happy to be there and interact with them all.

When you saw him dip down to greet a few children, your ovaries practically exploded. The kids melted and in turn he did too. He played around with them as his mother and sister took over with greeting the adults. The more you watched the more your heart thumped thinking how adorable he looked.

“Romancing the daughters of the dignitaries, Duke Baldrik?”

Your attention turned to a photog standing in front of the three of you snapping pictures. The bright lights blinded you momentarily making you bring your hand to shield your face.

“Ha, not at all, Albee replied with a bachelor perfect smile.

“They look unfamiliar. Who might they be?”

“Honored guests of the crown,” Albee offered holding out his arms for both you and Aneka to take. Once you did, he tipped his head to the photog and began ushering you toward the stalls that were set up.

“Enjoy the event,” Albee called out.

As soon as he was out of earshot, he blew out. “While the press here is not entirely as bad as it is in America, I do have to caution you. Do not underestimate them.”

“Thank you,” Aneka said with a flirtatious smile.

If was clear now that she was into him. Of course, she was, you thought. Aneka liked them pretty.

“My pleasure. The longer you are here the more you will be able to figure out which ones prefer some scandal on top of their news and who truly have the crown’s best interest at heart. Him—scandal fattens his pockets.”

You scanned the photographer from before who was now snapping pictures of Freddie who was now with two other women who looked just as stuck up as she did. She looked to be loving the attention and the compliments she was getting from everyone around her. Figured. Rolling your eyes, you turned your back on her.

“Are you not afraid?”

“Afraid of what?”

“The power she wields.”

“Call me dense because I know nothing of her power. All I see is a sad little bitch.”

Albee snorted and heartily laughed bringing the attention of most around you, even Henry.

“My goodness. You are a breath of fresh air. Would you like me to enlighten you of her power, or the power of her name?”

You looked at a few figurines at the stall smiling at how cute they were.

“Nah, I don’t care.”

“I do. Know thy enemy, Art of War, Sun Tzu,” Aneka butt in.

Albee’s smile widened. “I do think I am going to enjoy this season.”

As the three of you walked around taking in the many activities, that had been prepared Albee told you all about Freddie and her family. He didn’t leave much out including her net worth and the influence her family had in the past. When he told you about her lifetime hope and dream of becoming the queen, you almost laughed. Of course she wanted to be queen. She was clearly obsessed with power and wanted the second highest position in the country. However, when Albee revealed that Henry didn’t seem to be keen on that idea you couldn’t keep a smile off your face. It was short lived though, because it dawned on you then that you’d stepped right into another season of “The Bachelor: Who Wants the Crown”. Rich women would fight to their last press on nail for more money and more power and it was even better if it came with a crown and a pretty hot prince.

From the look Aneka gave you, she was thinking the same thing. You tentatively listened as Albee pointed out the who was who of the group all with backstory. He was clearly well informed from growing up within all of this but firm the way he spoke about the rest of them in comparison to Henry you could tell he harbored no ill will toward him. Perhaps there really were some good people besides the queen and Jemma after all.

Fo the next few hours you, Aneka and Albee explored the park flitting from game to game and stall to stall. Every few seconds you were snapping pictures trying to capture the joy and liveliness that was all around you. Everyone was so friendly you couldn’t help but feel right at home among them. Kids easily approached you to play and sing and show you the ropes of a few local games. Grandmothers with kind eyes happily shared stories and happy memories of previous Brexenavides while offering local delicacies like candied nuts that came in a plethora of flavors that you quickly became addicted to.

Before you knew it, you’d wandered off by yourself with no sight of Aneka or Albee. You wondered if it was purposely done so she could get some alone time with him. Deciding not to go find them, you wandered the area some more until you felt a snowball hit your back. Expecting to see a child, you spun around but found Henry with the evidence on his leather gloves. Your jaw dropped.

“Your highness,” you gasped.

His laugh echoed around you as he approached you.

“Forgive me my lady.”

“There goes that title again. I’m no lady.”

Henry took you in for a few moments. “I beg to differ. I have always seen a lady as one who is refined, polite and well spoken, someone who makes those around them feel valued.”

“And that is me?”

“Yes. Since you’ve arrived, I have overheard many of the maids talking about your kindness to them how you never make them feel less than and how you are always polite, stopping to talk to them as if you care about their feelings.”

“And I take it that is something out of character in Brexendor.”

Henry took a deep breath. “Among my family not at all, but when the palace gets filled with dignitaries and other world leaders, I am ashamed to say yes.”

You nodded and popped a few more candied nuts into your mouth. You tipped the bag toward him.

“Are those what I think they are?”

He dipped inside and came away with a small handful that he tossed into his mouth. The moan he let out was deep and it took you right back to the night before. Goosebumps skirted across your skin making you stand taller as a shiver ran through you.

“Are you cold?”

“Uh—no. I’m all right.”

“I am sorry I got carried away. These have always been my favorite. I remember the first outing my father took me to. He knew I was not looking forward to it and that I was anxious about making a good impression on him and the family. Once I got into the car, he had a bag of these waiting for me. As we drove, we talked about sports, video games and my tutor who I mightily disliked. We ate the whole bag within minutes and by the time we got to the appearance all of my nerves had wilted away. Every outing I went on whether it was with him or without there was a bag of these waiting for me.”

The smile on his face was so warm but it was also sorrowful.

“That’s beautiful.”

He nodded popping another one into his mouth. “Then he died and since—I haven’t had not even one.”

The sadness rolling off of him touched your heart. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and tell him everything was going to be all right. You wanted to comfort him in a way that this open space did not permit. You glanced around and caught sight of the toboggan area.

“How good are you at toboggan?”

Henry scoffed the dusted off his hands. “I am the toboggan king.”

You giggled and rolled your eyes. “Put your money where your mouth is, your highness.”

“Money? Are we betting?”

“Bet your ass we are.”

“My ass? My, my Lady Thornton, how forward you are to think that is up for grabs.”

The look he gave you was a steamy one.

“Is there something else that should be up for grabs, your highness? Perhaps something—harder to—accomplish—something bigger?”

Heat flashed behind his icicle blue orbs as he held your gaze. Henry took a step to you then another. With clenched jaws, he sighed.

“Winner makes the request?”

“Wager accepted.”

The two of you walked over to the toboggan areas. As soon as you approached those around marveled at having him so close. It didn’t matter their age they were all captivated by him. To have that much power, you thought. How was he not some self-absorbed asshole?

“After you,” Henry offered, holding his hand out to an empty toboggan. You smirked then climbed on taking care to use your long jacket to pool between your legs so there would be no unsavory photos later.

Once you were comfortable, you glanced to your left, he was seated in his own toboggan ready and waiting with a boyish excited smile on his face. You wondered when the last time was that he’d smiled like that.

“Last chance to back out Lady Thornton.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “A lady never goes back on a wager. Are you sure you don’t want to forfeit before you lose terribly in front of your citizens? A true king knows when he is in over his head.”

Henry laughed loudly again and everyone around him giggled clearly catching his excited joy.

“That is true, but I assure you my lady, this is not one of those times.”

You smiled and focused in front of you. Someone off to the side began counting down from four and when you shouted one a pair of strong hands gave you one push sending you down the steep hill. You’d underestimated the hill greatly and your scream said so. Henry laughed then leaned backward. You watched him inch before you, leading by almost a foot. You did the same and smiled when you cut his lead by a few inches. With the bottom of the hill in sight, you needed a last-ditch effort to come out on top. Not knowing if it would work or not, you rocked back and forth hoping it would increase your speed. Instead, it made the toboggan choppy.

All too late, you saw the fist sized rock in front of you. However, it was too late. The slate of the toboggan nudged it sending the back of it forward and you sailing through the air. It all happened in slow motion, and you fully caught sight of Henry coasting into the finish line and to a stop. He stood and held his hands in the air in triumph, but that excitement faded when he saw your current state. You heard him shout your name then come barreling toward you. You braced yourself for the hard impact you knew was coming and tried to prepare for the face full of snow you were about to ingest. When you felt the hard collision, it knocked the wind out of your lungs. You rolled a few times but barely felt any pain.

Finally, when you came to a stop, it took several moments to open your eyes. Atop you was Henry with his face mere inches from yours. For a few seconds, you thought you’d transported back in time, and you were in the garden room with him again. The patches of snow in his hair slowly registered as did the fact that he was calling your name with his hands on your cheek.

“Xari.”

“Did I win?”

Henry’s features softened as he gave you a half smile.

“Not even close.”

You giggled at first, but it got louder and more uncontrolled. Henry joined in neither of you fully registering that you were not alone and in fact in front of dozens of people. Feet stamped to you, and you turned your face shielding it from the patches of snow.

“Your highness, are you all right?”

Reality was colder than the snow you laid upon.

“Ehm, yes. I am quite all right,” Henry said as he stood. “Just doing the right thing and saving the damsel in distress.”

You snorted as you took his outstretched hand and allowed him to pull you up. “I suppose I earned that title. Thank you, your highness.”

Henry nodded, bowing his head ever so slightly. “A pleasure, Lady Thronton.”

“This way your highness,” Henry’s advisor breached directing the way.

As he walked off you took note of Freddie and her friends standing off to the side watching you. The look on all their faces told you that you were now on their radar. A few more hours passed, and you took the time to get to every ride and activity. You wanted to experience it all so you could really write about it later. This event was definitely a must for any visitors during this time of year.

When you ducked into a photo booth, you sighed out taking the time to catch your breath and give your feet a break. Before you could get too comfortable, another body ducked in beside you.

“Ex--.”

Henry’s smiling face stopped you.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

You snorted and shook your head.

“Shouldn’t you be working?”

“Funny thing. I came here fully prepared to work but knowing you are here only makes me want to experience this with you—through your eyes.”

You searched his then smirked.

“So, you’re—hiding out?”

He nodded and you had to laugh then. “Oh, your highness.”

“Every time you say that it sounds so dirty, and it brings my head to very ungentlemanly things.”

You leaned forward and began making selections for the pictures.

“Is that so?”

“Quite so. Is it intentional on your part?”

Shrugging, you looked at him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, your highness.”

His eyes dropped to your lips and within seconds he pulled you flush against his lips at the same time the flash of the camera went off. You both moaned neither pulling away, both intensifying the kiss. His tongue curled around yours making you wrap your arms around his neck at the same time he brought his hand to the back of your neck. He held you tenderly like you were precious but firm not wanting you to slip away. When you came in here, you hadn’t planned on this being a make out spot but now you couldn’t care less about the pictures.

His lips were sweet but cold and his tongue warm and intoxicating. Somehow, he tasted like peppermint and chocolate, and it was now your new favorite flavor combination. Needing to be closer, you sank your fingers into his tresses and gripped. The guttural moan he let out reverberated all over you, hardening your nipples and moistening your underwear.

“Mm, I can kiss you all day every day and never tire of your lips,” Henry whispered.

“All day? However will you get any work done?”

He smiled then kissed you again nibbling your bottom lip.

“I guess I shall not.”

Your eyes met and you saw the truth of his words. How sweet, you thought before you traced your tongue along his bottom lip then his top carefully outlining his perfect cupid’s bow. He didn’t move an inch. When his eyes fluttered closed giving you the most amazing angle of his long lashes, you softly sighed. Henry then claimed your lips pulling you closer to him so your bodies melded together becoming one figure. His lips hungrily kissed you, nibbling, sucking, licking as he pleased not caring where you were or who could happen upon you at any moment.

“Eh-em, your highness incoming. Duchess Freddie.”

McArthur’s voice broke the lustful haze surrounding you forcing you both to reluctantly pull away. Henry groaned his displeasure then glanced behind you.

“I think I have worked enough today. Care to join me on a personalized tour?”

You smiled brightly then took his head. “As you wish.”

“A low growl escaped him, and it sent your heart fluttering ten times as fast. “I do hope you remember those words when I most need them.”

His grin was mischievous, and you made a note to say them again. The list of words and phrases that elicited a sultry reaction was steadily growing and you planned on monopolizing him at every chance. Henry stood and led you out the other entrance to the booth that was opposite where McArthur must have been standing. His steps were quick as he dashed away like it was the scene of a crime. Perhaps it was seeing how you were now wet and wanting him. When he pulled you through a clearing of pine trees, you squealed, your sense of adventure and excitement picking up.

Once secluded behind the trees, he backed you into a mass of them tucking you in the tight crevice there then kissed you again. You eagerly accepted the kiss. He felt too sublime against you not to. His lips dipped to your jaw then trailed to your neck where it was clear he was a man with a plan.

Henry groaned on your neck then nibbled your earlobe, “What are you doing to me, Xari? How have you taken every single brain cell I have and imprinted your face upon them? How have you touched my skin and made it impossible for me to see anyone else doing it? How have you come here and tortured me so?”

You could hear the yearning in his voice. It was overwhelming, making you want to give in completely to him no matter the consequences. You were speechless. sensing this, he placed a chaste kiss at the tip of your nose then took your hand again and led you through the maze of trees. When you emerged, you saw the spread of rides before you just waiting for you both to let loose like children. McArthur stood just at the large Birch a few feet away with his back turned to you.

“Your highness, the queen said she can manage the rest of the event with the dignitaries and the press and princess Jemma said she will take point with the children and citizens. They are both instructing you to play the role of the proper host to out palace guest,” McArthur informed.

You pinched your lips. You knew what a set up sounded like. You couldn’t help but wonder why they were seemingly pushing him to entertain you. Before you could think any further, Henry looped your arm through his and led you across the field. McArthur handed Henry a newsboy hat and a dark scarf to replace his royal blue one he was currently wearing. Once he was disguised, you scoffed because while it gave him a little more coverage you were sure his people knew him thoroughly and would easily spot you. McArthur handed you a large wide brimmed hat that gave you full coverage from every angle.

“To protect your privacy, Lady Thornton,” McArthur clarified.

You smiled as you put it on. “Thank you, McArthur.

A few minutes later you were seated in a ride called Santa’s Sleigh which was similar to those back and forth rocking pirate ships only it was led by the reindeers with Santa in the back.

“Feel free to scream your highness, I will allow everyone to think it is me.”

“I do not scream Lady Thornton, however, if you make it worth my while I will be the loudest in the land.”

You giggled and enjoyed the ride teasing him the entire time. Your interaction was so natural it almost felt unreal. Though he didn’t touch you above your waist, his thigh remained pressed to yours no matter what. By the fourth ride, you’d deduced it was purposely done. Knowing that you couldn’t stop your heart from fluttering. Ride after ride you laughed, joked and teased one another. Ride after ride he made sure to keep some part of your bodies touching. Ride after ride you exchanged flirtatious glances that only increased your body temperature. It may have been twenty or so degrees out, but you were a sweltering ninety-nine degrees.

“This is your favorite ride?”

Henry’s questioning eyes were glued to the carousel that was decked with reindeers, sacks of Santa’s presents, giant boulder like forms of coal, Santa’s mailbox and other notable Christmas decorations. The sun had now set and the lights that bathed the ride made it seem so magical. This entire country was plotting against you here, you thought to yourself.

“Sure is.”

“Then, shall we?”

Like a six your old child rather than a grown ass woman, you scampered toward the ride then walked around it trying to decide the best figurine. It was a tough choice, but you ended up picking a reindeer which had Henry choosing the same one beside yours. Before he climbed on, he took the time to carefully buckle you into the harness tightening the straps as needed. As he did so, his hands touched your waist and hips and from the look on his face you knew this too was purposely done.

“Be careful your highness. You are very close to alerting the outside world to just how horny you are.”

The smirk he wore slipped and his brows furrowed.

“Is that what you think I am?”

His voice was tight btu other than that it gave nothing away.

“Um—isn’t it true?”

His jaw clenched and a scowl fell across his lips. Backing away, he claimed onto his own reindeer but didn’t bother buckling the straps. A cold breeze engulfed you making you feel the bitter coldness for the first time. Had you said something wrong?

The carousel went round and round sending you and Henry up and down, but he didn’t speak at any point. Instead, he held onto the pole while staring off into the distance. You allowed the silence to stretch for a few moments then when you turned to speak to him, you found his eyes already on you.

“Something wrong?”

Henry opened his mouth to speak but shook his head instead. You didn’t believe him. He definitely had something to say but you didn’t push him.

“Why is the carousel your favorite ride?”

You smirked then shook your head. “It just is.”

“Even if it was not obvious you were lying, I would not believe that. Come on tell me.”

“You won’t laugh?”

“I might.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but your look was met with a hearty chuckle.

“Come on tell me.”

Hugging the pole of the reindeer tighter, you rested the side of your head on it, looking at him. “When I was about 8, I always saw it when looked so—pretty. It was usually the only ride that looked so—magical no matter what time of day or where I went. My father told me that it was a portal to a magical world. He said there was always one sometimes two chosen figures that were spelled to open the portal but only those destined to find it could. So, whenever I saw a carousel, I made it a point to ride it hoping to find the right figure to unlock the portal and take me away.”

The smile Henry wore was an adoring one. “That may be the cutest image ever. An 8-year-old you climbing onto these things hoping it opened a portal to another world.”

You nodded. “My parents indulged me, I was lucky. As I got older, I grew out of the heavy belief there was a magical portal and began to see how beautiful and romantic carousels were and went to realizing that perhaps they were magical after all, but not because of going to another world but how they made you feel and the memories you could make with those who matter while on them.”

You hadn’t meant to spill so much to him. Glancing at him, you tried not to cringe realizing his eyes were glued to you. However, the longer he stared at you the more you felt like jumping off the ride and running back to the maze of trees.

“So how many memories have you made with those who matter on one of these?”

You smirked then shrugged. “One or two.”

His huff made you pinch your lips in an effort to not laugh. “Interesting.”

Making your best innocent face, you turned the question back onto him. “

“And you?”

“I feel like you are the one who will laugh at me here.”

“Why?”

“Because this—this is the first carousel I have ridden with anyone—leisurely, well that was not family that is.

Your eyes widened. “Ever?”

“Ever.”

“Oh my goodness, Henry—am I your first?”

His smile was mischievous. “It would appear so, Lady Thornton.”

You bit your bottom lip then smiled widely. You didn’t know why you felt so prideful. It wasn’t like it was something that mattered or something that reflected on you in any possible way.

“Well, you are my first prince in a magical fairytale country that I’ve been on one of these with,” you began pausing to contemplate if you should say the rest of the sentence. “And this just may be my favorite ever.”

His cheeks flamed and you couldn’t help but smile. Then when his smile stretched bigger than you’d seen, your heart couldn’t bare it. He was too damn cute.

“Mine too,” Henry muttered a little above a whisper knowing that you’d catch it.

If cloud nine was the highest point one’s spirit could reach you were ebbing onto cloud 10. There was no need to speak for the rest of the ride. You and Henry rode it once, then twice but neither of you seemed quite ready to get off. After a fourth go round, the two of you walked around the park taking in the different games and events that were scattered about. You’d wanted to try the skating rink but didn’t want to expose him to the eyes of everyone around due to the openness of the rink, so you opted for other lowkey options for entertainment. You chatted about a plethora of things never remining on any subject long because you had so much in common that always branched out to other topics.

When you saw the actual reindeers, you lost it and scurried over to pet and baby talk them. While they were massive, you couldn’t help but find them adorable. You fed one a carrot and squealed at how affectionate it was. When you turned to make a puppy face at Henry, you found him snapping pictures of you with his phone like it was the most natural thing in the world.

At the urging of the reindeer master, you climbed into the sleigh that was decked out as if it truly were Santa’s sleigh and posed for the professional photos. As they snapped away you looked to Henry trying to coax him into the sleigh with you. It didn’t take long before he climbed in and smiled for the pictures with you. It felt normal to do this with him, normal to be around one another like this. A massive bubble in your chest screamed of caution and reservation so loudly that your head had no other choice but to register the warning.

After a few more photos, McArthur motioned for Henry’s attention which had him jumping out of the sleigh and stepping off to the side where both of them spoke in hushed tones. You prepared to climb down from the sleigh but as you did you happened to glance off to the right where you saw Freddie watching you. The rage and hatred in her eyes could not be missed and for a second you panicked. When you saw her raise a gun in her hand, your eyes widened. Before you could make a noise or move, a loud “pop” echoed through the park. You fully expected to feel the pain of the bullet and braced yourself, unable to move.

Instead, the pain never came. What did unfold was pure chaos. Several loud “neighs” boomed through the air then a forceful jerk. The action sent you hurling backward landing in a crumped heap on the seat of the sleigh. There were screams in the park and you watched the reindeers panic, colliding with each other as if they were fighting. Antlers thwacked together making it sound as if trees themselves were splintering around you. Henry made a move toward the sleigh but was stopped by his protective detail that was now circling him and locking him down, ready to take any stray bullet for him.

Within seconds, the reindeer that was harnessed to the sleigh you were in took off.

“Aaaaaaaaaaah!”

With terror, you watched as the unmanned runaway sleigh bound across the park not caring where it went. Everywhere people dashed out of its way trying to save themselves. All you could do was watch from your scrunched position, holding on for dear life as you prayed this was not how you died.

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

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#crown for two fic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill au #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x black reader #black fanfiction #christmas fanfiction #cheesy christmas fic #henry cavill x black ofc #royalty au

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snowbellewells · 1 year

Text

Finished Work: “The Weight of the Crown (is a Feather on the Waves)”

At long last here is the conclusion to @kmomof4‘s birthday fic begun back in October. I am sorry it took so long Krystal, but I hope you will enjoy!

Summary: Newly crowned Queen Emma must face her childhood friend, now arrested for piracy, and the responsibility to her crown and people weighs all too heavily on her shoulders. Killian may be a pirate, but there is more to the story than others know, and she can hardly bear to betray him now.

This is now (maybe?) almost M-rated in the second part. I’ll let you readers be the judge of that. The last two section breaks are where that occurs, so if you don’t want to read my attempts at a love scene stop at that next-to-last page break.

Link to Part One Here on Tumblr

Also available on Ao3, if that is your preference....

Part Two

They were hardly out on the open sea, barely beyond her kingdom’s waters, when Emma - thrilled though she was to be reunited with her dearest friend and practically trembling with awareness at the feel of his calloused hand over hers on the wheel while he guided her through steering his ship - felt the pangs of guilt creeping into her awareness. She had abandoned her post, left her duty undone. The throne she had been raised to take over, the people she had been trained to rule, all her life, were left behind with those cold, unfeeling sycophants in her absence.

Her breath hitched in her chest, a choked sort of cry stifled inside her before it could make much sound, was either heard or felt by Killian all the same. Near as their bodies were pressed together at the helm against the crisp, strident wind coming off the waves, it was no real surprise he had caught the movement, but more than that, he had always possessed an uncanny ability to recognize her moods, knowing when she was angry, amused or troubled - sometimes before she could fully realize it herself.

“Come now, Swan,” he crooned softly at her ear, his free arm not helping to steer wrapped around her waist as his warm breath ruffled the loose curls blown free about her face by the wind. “Talk to me, Princess… you always could before.”

Emma swallowed, not sure where to begin or quite how to explain. It was the truth; once upon a time he had been her trusted ally - and she his as well - but this flight from her own land had been her decision. To free him and abscond herself, she had chosen that willingly, and she did not intend to make him feel as though he were at fault. Shaking her head slightly, Emma gave no response, though she did lean into his side where they stood together at the bow, relishing the comfort of his embrace on her wrought emotions.

It would seem, however - just as when they were young - that Killian could not leave a problem at rest if it might be within his power to solve it. Merely holding her apparently would not do, even if for several quiet minutes they each soaked up the peaceful stillness in the warmth of each other’s presence after years apart. Yet, after an interval, his low voice husked once again, pleading gently but fervently, “Princess, please… let me in. I have not been away so long as to not know when you are troubled.”

Sighing, Emma turned just slightly, pulling away merely far enough to look into Killian’s eyes and trace a finger across his furrowed brow as he studied her with concern. She felt as if she no longer deserved the title, but the way he called her Princess, the way his beloved voice enveloped the honorific, warmed her to her very soul. Rather than flattery or forced obeisance, from Killian, it felt like the birthright it had always been meant to be.

“You need not call me that,” she finally whispered, looking away with a sense of shame. She could not have stood by and seen him sacrificed, not when she was the only person who could prevent it, but had she instead sacrificed all the other lives meant to be in her care?

“What… Princess?” he questioned, knowing what she meant, but having to be sure, because of course she was the Princess - his Princess - nothing could ever change that. “Why would you say such a thing?”

“I left my people to those vultures!” she spat, pushing from his arms and taking several steps away, to lean over the ship’s rail gulping lungfuls of the brisk, chill air, needing the distance to keep herself from sinking back into his arms and allowing him to soften the blow. “I acted out of my own wishes, fleeing what I could not bear, regardless of their needs. A-and even before that…I was only…pretending. I am not my parents… I could never be the ruler that they were together.”

Killian didn’t hesitate for even a second to follow her, trailing her along the ship’s railing and reeling her into the solid warmth of his chest once more, her nose tickled briefly by the hair peeking from the open collar of his shirt as she clung to his waist, breathing in the scent of him that she had almost forgotten with the years - salt of sea spray, a spicy musk, worn wooden planks, and fresh ocean breeze. She couldn’t help but feel some sort of pressure inside her release. Since her parents’ loss, and their state funeral, the rituals and decisions which had to be made, she had put up a shield, forced herself to remain strong, to cover the fear, the despair, the trembling grief rending her heart in two. She could ill afford to show weakness; she had to embody strength. Yet, there in Killian’s arms on the open water, so far from the court and the whispers and how she had been forced to hide, Emma could finally let go.

Before she knew it was coming, she was sobbing into his skin, melting at the feel of his strong hand gently stroking her back, soothing murmurs whispered into her hair. The whipping wind and crashing waves hid the sound and swept her tears away as they fell. She could finally grieve, and it refused to be held back any longer.

“Let it out, Darling,” he crooned, swaying slightly with her enclosed safely in his grasp, only letting go enough to lightly stay their course with a slight turn of the wheel. He would be there for her in this moment. There was nothing he wanted more. It was why he had returned, risking his mission, his freedom, his very life, to do so. He had known what the loss of her mother and father would do to her, how alone she would feel, and yet how determined she would be to carry on. Never would he have expected anything less from the young royal he had grown up beside. He had missed much in the intervening years, including the joy of seeing her blossom into the stunning woman who had first met his eyes as he was brought before her throne for judgement.

Had it truly been just yesterday? His mind reeled at how quickly so much had changed, and he could only imagine the havoc playing on Emma’s emotions already wrung and strained to the limit by grief and isolation.

Still, there were some things time and distance did not change. Even as children, she had seen him no differently than herself or any of the other highborn youth she knew. He was accepted and valued as an equal, just as he knew she had been raised seeing her parents treat the youngest or most lowly of servants with the same respect given to the highest officials and visiting dignitaries. She had come by her goodness and fair, kind heart most naturally, and it had been nurtured by loving parents who saw that gentle grace as strength rather than weakness. Of course, she feared to fail those whom she saw as her responsibility with her parents’ loss. Killian would wish her to be no other way. Still, he hated to see her in pain and regretted that his capture while seeking to ascertain if she was well had meant such a wrenching decision on her part.

Letting her have all the time she needed (the heavens above only knew how long she had been damming such raw heartache and fear inside) he only spoke again beyond soothing murmurs when he felt her drawing a large, shaky breath to steady herself and her tears finally slowed.

“Emma, darling, please know that I am in awe of you - the risk you took, the sacrifice you made to save my unworthy hide.” Here he crooked his forefinger, placing it under her chin to tilt her face up to meet his eyes. Relieved when she offered a watery smile in return, he continued. “All the same, I do not expect to keep you from your birthright any longer than necessary. Nor would I force you to choose between myself and your beloved subjects who need you. It was never my intention to stay gone from Misthaven permanently…”

Emma shook her head uncomprehendingly, her mussed golden hair flying about her face in the breeze, even as he attempted to smooth it back for her solicitously. “But Killian,” she protested, “you cannot mean to return now. It would be suicide - or madness! They intended to force your execution!”

“Oh aye,” he affirmed, eyes glittering with a banked strength and cool calculation that sent shivers up and down her spine. “I know that is their goal. However, if we find what I have been seeking all this time, I will gain redemption, and we will end their covetous grasping for power once and for all.”

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

Emma’s blunt but eagerly intrigued questions in spite of her initial confusion had bolstered Killian’s confidence when he began to haltingly explain the proof he had sought, keeping him far from her for so long. Her brow scrunched in serious thought was utterly charming, leaving him absolutely unable to resist kissing that furrow lightly before he pressed on, illuminating the plot he believed he had uncovered.

In the years since he had known Emma well, since he had set sail with his brother, newly named Captain of his own ship, full of wide-eyed dreams and the naive belief of winning glory and proving himself worthy upon his return to seek her hand, much had changed. He often felt he could barely remember that young lieutenant with the entire world in front of him. Liam’s loss, and the treachery which had caused it, had changed his life’s trajectory. Killian had vowed in the pit of anger and despair that he would not return to Misthaven until he had physical proof in hand; the supporting evidence he needed to see justice done. And he had been sailing with that goal, wandering far from home and comfort, ever since. All the same, when, in some backwater dockside tavern, word reached his ears of the king and queen’s deaths - of the loss Emma had suffered - nothing else had mattered more than reaching her side. Now that they were reunited, it was time he confided in her; she deserved to know the truth he sought.

Even as his words had barely begun to spill from his lips, Killian felt some fraction of their weight lift from his shoulders. Emma seemed to understand their magnitude almost immediately, and looked up at him with unblinking devotion, not flinching or pulling away, but trusting his word without question. She didn’t interrupt with questions or reasoning at all, even when he spoke of the duplicitous nature of their mission learned too late and whom he suspected was responsible. Only when he choked out, voice faltering tremulously, how Liam had died in his arms, did she move at all, pulling him closer and running her fingers gently through the hair at the nape of his neck in silent comfort. His eyes closed involuntarily with unshed tears at the soothing gesture, sheer relief still flooding him merely at unveiling the hurt he had carried alone for so many years.

Her unswerving support and acceptance, the sense that Emma would stand behind him whatever he revealed bolstered him as he began to explain further - painful as it was, it was needed too, like lancing a festered wound. He was finally able to purge the haunting darkness that lingered over the memories of that special, top secret quest to a distant and long-forgotten island, and how Liam’s blind faith in the honor of their superiors had led to his demise. By the time he reached the realization he had come to - that he and his brother had been used as pawns and considered an acceptable loss - and revealed the blackguards he feared were still lurking in the naval hierarchy and the royal court as well, Emma’s fingers clutched his arms with a white-knuckled grip, her lips pressed firmly in a thin line. Yet, though she appeared pale and shaken, she clearly did not doubt him. He loved her all the more for it, even as his heart broke to shatter her good faith in some of those whom her own parents had trusted and she had been led to as well.

“Killian,” she whispered, eyes wide and the tiniest of tremors coursing through her as she looked to him almost plaintively. “Could these same people have caused my parents’ deaths as well? The sickness struck them both so suddenly, seemingly from out of nowhere. Would these villains’ treachery truly aim that high?”

Her words struck new resolve into his vow. Though he had long since sworn that he would not rest until Liam was avenged, seeing Emma’s pain, and knowing all too well that the villainy she suggested was entirely possible, renewed his commitment to justice - for his brother, his hero, and for her parents as well. He might still be without the tangible proof he needed to see those responsible punished, but he would get it. He knew it was out there. He hadn’t been able to find it alone, but together he knew they would. He would never stop fighting, and he had yet to see Emma fail.

Hating that his response would almost surely rip open anew wounds that were only barely beginning to heal, Killian sighed before looking her steadily in the eye. A quick, somber dip of his chin affirmed her query as well as his weighted “Aye” that followed.

Emma’s breath felt trapped somewhere in her throat at his affirmation. Those same advisors and nobles who had wanted her to hang this man beside her, his strong arms the only thing holding her together, were likely hiding the villain he sought. Grasping, devious jackals, they had clung onto her parents’ robes for years, snapping up any rewards and morsels they could get their hands on. Did they plot to topple the King and Queen for their own gain? What more could they be seeking? They’d been well taken care of - more than Emma had often thought they deserved. Could they really think she would grant them more? They had to know better… Or did they think she would be more easily misled? Fooled and towed along under their influence?

Her thoughts richocheted around inside her head; her breaths growing more rapid and labored before she even realized, until Killian gently murmured soothing nonsense in her ear, wrapped one arm more tightly around her shoulder and lead her over to where she could sit on a large barrel near his place at the wheel.

Suddenly though, she did not wish to be soothed. She wanted to charge back into her kingdom, into the throne room and demand the truth. Challenge them all, look them in the eyes, and discover any who had actually dared to repay her mother and father’s mercy and kindness with murder. She couldn’t bear to let the indignant fire burn low. It was not to be borne!

Once more it seemed he could read her mind. “Emma, love, I know the anger you’re feeling,” he began gently, not coddling her, but lingering within reach the moment she needed him. “Your parents were the best people I know… outside of Liam… and yourself, of course.”

She couldn’t help the way her heart fluttered at Killian’s warmth and sincerity in that admission, even as her ire rose again when he continued.

“They did not deserve such repayment for their generosity - nor did Liam in his trust and dedication. But do not give all over to vengeance. It’s a dangerous slope I have nearly fallen down too many times since Liam’s death. We must be strong, Love. We will see justice done, I swear it. But I will not see you lose who you are in the process.”

Tears burned against the back of her lids as she blinked rapidly, determined not to let more fall. She wondered almost dazedly how there could be any water left within her to cry. For months now, ever since her mother had followed her father into unconsciousness and it became frightfully clear they might not recover, that she might never again see their eyes open to gaze on her with the loving, doting expressions she had taken for granted all her life, she had felt so alone. She had held her head high as they planned the funeral service, chosen their final robes and garb, accepted expressions of loyalty and support from foreign leaders, and weathered suggestions and criticism from her own counsel. Through it all, she had held fast like a rock outcropping in a raging sea, buffetted and struck by waves over and again, yet unmoved, though she felt the wearing pressure with each strike. To have him there before her now, blue gaze burning intensely into her own, hands clasping hers tightly as if to even more fervently impress upon her the sincerity of his words. His vow was sealed, he would not be swayed whatever might come, and for Emma that was more than enough, more than she could have looked for. After barely holding the tattered pieces of her life together for so long with just her own two trembling hands, his support, his added strength, was everything to her in that moment.

And so, when he bent his head to lightly kiss her brow in reassurance, Emma tipped her head back, pushed up onto her toes and brought her lips to meet his instead. Her unexpected fervor lent her unerring accuracy, and as their mouths met, Emma felt a sense of rightness unlike any she had ever known. A shudder ran through Killian at the show of passion, but he didn’t pull away, with a low rumble of pleasure in his chest, he gathered her to himself and pressed further, delving into the kiss with a fire that stole her remaining breath.

There emblazoned against the sun burning on the far horizon, Princess Emma’s roiling, storm-tossed world righted itself again. She could see the course before her, with her pirate at the helm, standing at his side. And together, they would not fail.

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

It was some months later yet, when they sailed into Misthaven’s port once more. As Killian’s ship jauntily sliced through the lapping waves of the bustling harbor, seagulls crying overhead and his crewmen calling out to those on shore as they tossed out lines and manuevered toward an empty berth, Emma stood at the rail, eyes wide to take in every detail of her beloved homeland, anxious to see if there had been any noticeable changes. The salt breeze lifted her loose blond hair off her neck, and she turned her face into it, savoring the crisp, invigorating air and the freedom it whispered to her.

In truth, if she had not felt so responsible for things here, were she not duty bound to return and see wrongs made right, she would have stayed at sea with Killian forever. The shipboard life had more than agreed with her as days, and then weeks, had rolled by - it had been exhilarating.

And, with a wry smile and knowing shake of the head, she conceded to herself as she glanced down at the looser, lighter garb she wore, Emma found herself humorously wondering if any of those in the cabinet she had left behind would even recognize her. She had to admit to herself that she did look more like the buccaneers around her on the Jolly’s deck than the sheltered princess she had been when she left.

She had never imagined herself leaving Misthaven at all, but now it felt strange returning to her home. Perhaps the real truth was that her home had shifted. She let her gaze scan the wooden planks and spars until they found Killian’s form standing tall, directing his men, manning the wheel; capable, in chage, and electrically commanding all her attention the moment her eyes rested on his beloved face. Home was with him now; she had cast her lot as clearly as he had his own.

And then before she knew it, they were disembarking, her hand resting warily on Killian’s arm, alert to be sure none would move to take him from her before they had said their piece. His men remained with the ship, watching over it steadfastly until their captain returned, knowing none would dare board or try to take her from them.

All eyes on the long dock turned toward their wayward ruler as she walked on the arm of a known brigand, a criminal whose visage they must surely have seen gracing wanted posters from here to the castle. As they stepped off the gangplank, Emma forced herself to hold the gaze of any who met hers, to carry herself, not only as the returning monarch of her realm, but as the pirate queen she had just begun to find within.

She could feel Killian’s muscles tense beneath her fingers, coiled and ready for action at the slightest provocation or mere hint of a threat toward her. Even by touching only his wiry forearm, she took comfort in the vigilance and surety he radiated - even moreso as he placed his hook in clear view of any who might approach them. The false casualty of the way he held himself sent as clear a message as anything could that neither of them were to be trifled with - and that he had the ability to back up his unspoken threat.

The crowd along the wharf parted for them on either side as they made their way along the streets to the path which would lead them all the way to her castle. Emma could feel countless stares peppering her skin, but she merely kept her face forward, standing tall, her hand on Killian’s arm as they passed through the throng determined not to let any of her nerves or uncertainty show.

It seemed to take no time to reach their destination, and looking up at the familiar walls of strong, unyielding stone, Emma marveled that though it had been months, and she felt changed to her very core, the castle keep seemed as it ever had - unaltered in its grandeur, and familiar as if it had merely been awaiting her return. They were let in immediately by many of the same guards who had watched over Emma and her family all of her life, and though she stiffened at the mistrustful, cold stares directed her pirate’s way, no worse action followed, and they entered unmolested.

Emma knew the way, and she did not hesitate. She felt emotion rising deep inside her, but it was not fear of what they would face next, or fear of not being welcomed back to her rightful place. Instead, it was righteous anger and the churning in her gut calling for vindication - for Liam Jones, for her parents… and for Killian himself. They had found their proof at last, gained testimony form a witness who confirmed what Killian had always suspected. Vipers in their court, posing as friends while wrecking havoc and setting up a future for themselves, no matter the cost to those sacrificed on the way.

As they reached the Grand Hall, she clutching the vial in her hand and Killian with sworn witness statement in his grasp, Emma stormed into the council meeting she knew would be in progress. She would not wait, nor give the culprits any chance to sneak off and avoid capture. They had surprise on their side, and they would rapidly lose that as word traveled of their arrival.

The mammoth wooden doors swung back with a dull thud against the stone wall as Emma charged through, heedless of the commotion, and headed right into the midst of her arguing, overdressed advisors. Marching forward, she didn’t stop until she came to a halt right at the end of the large table where the others sat. Her green eyes flashed with righteous lightning, her lithe form straight and proud, and her shoulders back as she stared them all down with a magnificence that stole Killian’s breath. He could not take his eyes off her.

Her “Uncle” Grumpy stood awkwardly, spluttering and starting off, “Now, see here…”

But it was not the angry man or his nervous looking brothers who held Emma’s attention. She was busy watching the reactions of Lady Bleu and Sir Sidney in particular. While Granny Lucas, and even traditional old Marco, at least had the decency to express their joy and relief at seeing her home and well, Emma studied the furtive glances and anxious squirming that sought to go unnoticed in those she already knew were guilty.

And when Lady Bleu stood from her seat at the head of the table, facing Emma, clearly having become council head in the new queen’s absence, opened her mouth to begin a falsely gentle reprimand about how things were done and barging in to disrupt a meeting’s progress, Emma was ready.

Though he had been searching longer, had given so much of himself, and had every bit as strong and just a claim, Killian only stood at her shoulder, a silent, firm support as she faced them all down. He knew she must show strength and leadership here, to take back what was rightfully hers from those who had plotted to wrest it away.

“You lost sight of ‘how we do things’ long ago,” Emma warned in a voice that brooked no condescension or subterfuge, not anymore. Holding up the vial in her hand, containing the poison for all those gathered to see. “This would not exist otherwise. My parents would still be here to guide us, as would Captain Liam Jones of their royal navy,” she intoned gravely.

It was obvious to all how Lady Bleu’s admonishments died on her tongure, and she sank wordlessly to her seat; not to mention how all color drained from Sir Sidney’s visage. Not a word or sound escaped his uselessly opening and closing mouth.

They had a captive audience then, and were not interrupted as Emma placed the deadly vial on the table and explained just what it could do - the damage it had already done. Even as she then ceded the floor to Killian to explain his part of the tale, one which went back much further than she knew, none of their listeners moved or seemed to breathe. Their claims from months ago that still rang in Emma’s ear and haunted her nightmares - that he was only a filthy, marauding pirate, not even deserving to live - seemed forgotten in the wake of the revelations and evidence he laid before them. Finally they knew, as Emma always had, that he had only deserted because his orders, his superiors, had been corrupt. He had gone rogue to find the truth and make things right.

In light of the knowledge they had procured, it did not take the rest of the council long to find the conspirators for the crown guilty, leading them away until they could be tried. Perhaps it made Emma cruel, but she could not deny the satisfaction she felt at Lady Bleu, Sir Sidney, and a few keys others she knew less well, being led away to the cells as Killian had been not so very long ago.

Looking over to him, Emma found her sailor already watching her with an awed and peaceful look in his eye - one she had not seen since he and his brother set sail on that fateful mission years ago. It was finally done. He had seen his vow fulfilled.

Tears started in the corner of Emma’s eyes, though they didn’t yet fall. She had not known to make such a vow, but the image of her mother’s kind hearted, hopeful face swam before her eyes just then, remembering all the times Queen Snow had told her daughter about their duty to their people, the privilege and honor they enjoyed, and the care and respect their subjects were due in return. To think that some of those Snow had most trusted in her mission to rule an honest and fair kingdom had betrayed her; had plotted the demise of one so pure of heart and devoted to their well-being, sliced Emma’s heart open anew. Yet, to think that she had aided in some small measure in seeing that poisonous root dug out and exposed once and for all… it was the best thing she could have done to honor her mother’s memory.

Killian’s face clearly showed he could read her thoughts and understood them only too well. They lingered just long enough to see that things would be stable until morning - and to be certain all were fully aware of Captain Jones’ full pardon, before they excused themselves for the night. Exhaustion both physical and mental was beginning to take hold, and there would be much more yet to do on the morrow.

It had been a long and arduous journey, but they could at last drop anchor and draw breath in peace. As they slipped below deck into his cabin, Emma drew strength from that, and for the moment let it be enough.

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

Below decks as her captain lit a lamp and some candles to flicker gently against the darkness, and Emma could once more feel the easy rocking of the waves she had grown to love, tension and worry slid from her shoulders like a discarded cloak. She watched Killian move gracefully about the small space while she stood near his bunk, simply drinking him in with wide eyes, finally believing that the worst battle had been won, and they were still together, standing in his sacred space, readily made hers as well.

His gaze found hers across the room, and though there was still an echo of long-held grief within his eyes, there was affection and the sparkle of dawning joy in the stunning blue as well. A smile lifted one corner of his lips as he made his way toward her, one Emma returned with warmth suffusing her at his look and her heart fluttering madly in her chest.

He had long since discarded his leather great coat over the back of a chair, but now one-handed he was deftly unbuttoning the last few buttons he had bothered with at all, and his loose shirt fell open, exposing the dark hair that trailed down his firm stomach, the sight making Emma’s mouth go dry. Though she had been presented when she came of age, courted and wooed by eligible young royals and nobles from far and wide, she was still largely innocent when it came to men, Killian standing before her in his open shirt and simple breeches the most undressed she had ever seen one - anything else she knew came from extremely furtive research in the castle library and her own imagination.

Until this very moment in fact, when she found herself lightheaded and dizzy with what she could only assume was true need and desire, she had never wanted to see more of anyone else; her memories and dreams of the man standing before her now had been enough. Her pulse pounded wildly, hammering at her temple as he continued drawing closer, holding her in his thrall, until he soundlessly came to a halt right in front of her.

“Are you alright, Emma?” he murmured, bending to peer into her face more closely, concern at her speechlessness and rapid breathing clear on his countenance as he delicately brushed a stray hair back from her face.

She tried to find her voice, but still found herself nodding mutely in response; eyes drinking him in ravenously, but her mouth dry with nervous surprise and giddy anticipation; her tongue seemingly fused to the roof of her mouth.

“My Princess,” he added, his voice as much a caress as his fingers over the apple of her cheek, trailing down her neck, and skimming across her collarbone. The rough callouses from years hauling ropes, gripping the wheel, manning his ship through all weather and danger, were a delicious contrast to the soft delicacy of her own skin, and Emma shivered despite herself. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she continued to hold her pirate’s gaze, pleading with him to continue his ministrations, which she had no words to explain. Her face flamed at her own brazen desire even as she stepped backward just once, enough to feel the bunk against the back of her knees, and then rose on tiptoes to press her bosom more fully into his wandering hand, mewling for a kiss until his mouth fully captured hers.

Killian’s eyes widened at Emma’s actions, a groan reverberating in his chest, almost pained to hesitate longer. When he swept his tongue between her willing lips, she gasped, trembling, but far from protesting leaned further into his arms, opening gladly as her eyes slid closed in bliss.

Clutching Killian’s arms to keep herself from collapse, Emma’s senses reeled at the onslaught he brought to life within. She felt at once burning from the inside out and doused in cool relief at finally knowing his passionate touch. It was nothing to fall back upon the thin mattress which had held her sailor all the nights they had been apart, and open her arms for him, welcoming him to her embrace in turn. She felt chills at being parted from his warmth for even a second after the inferno he had stoked in her veins, and she could only feel euphoria when he lunged forward, covering her with his long, lean frame once more.

Drawing a shuddering breath, Emma brought both hands to cradle Killian’s scruffy cheeks between her palms, searching his waiting expression and lovingly stroking her thumb along the trace of the scar beneath his right eye.

“My Love?” Killian whispered, his breath bearing warm concern as he voiced the question.

“Yes, Killian,” she murmured, nodding vigorously and pulling him closer still, both answering his soft address and granting him permission, giving him all, and urging him on, at once. “Please…”

The smile which broke over Killian’s face then was incandescent, crinkling up the corners of his eyes and transforming his entire aspect to pure joy. “Oh, my Swan,” he crooned, leaning down to briefly capture her lips again, then languidly, sensuously beginning to trail down her body, eyes still watching her with a devilish humor twinkling beyond the sheer devotion.

“Killian,” she managed, trembling at his every touch and fluttering breath along her skin, knowing they have finally neared the point when they will become one.

With purpose, he pulled one of her boots, then the other, from her feet, followed by her stockings, and then he was working the tight borrowed breeches she had worn since boarding his ship down her legs and baring the very heart of her to his hungry eyes.

Lifting her foot to bestow a kiss to its arch, Killian ran the cool steel curve of his hook up her leg with weighted portent, from the ankle he still held aloft all the way to the crease where her leg joined her body, making her squirm at the proximity to where she already sensed such need for his touch, even if the wealth of those pleasures were yet unknown to her.

Emma flushed all over at how the blue of Killian’s eyes darkened and burned as he drank her in, actually licking his lips while that devouring gaze travelled the length of her laid out before him and came to rest where she felt embarrassingly, desperately wet and clenching for his touch. She did not know what to say or how to urge him on, and as he hovered over her, she almost tried to hide or cover herself, before he worked his hips into the cradle of her quivering thighs, running his hand along her bared side and mouthing encouragements into her skin.

“Swan, Love, you are a marvel,” he proclaimed, his scruff abrading her most sensitive skin, tingling and sending shivers of ecstasy out from the very center of her to top of her head and the tips of her fingers and toes. “And I find…” here he pressed several openmouthed kisses to punctuate his words before again trailing his hook along the path his lips had made. “Pirate that I am…” until his hand and the carefully wielded steel held her open for his onslaught as she panted and writhed, torn between pleading for more and begging for mercy, “I find I must stake my claim to such decadent… unsullied… treasure.”

Then his tongue and teeth were there, feeling as if he would turn her inside out in bliss. Emma’s fingers scrabbled wildly for purchase across the sheets and fisted in his hair, her head thrashing desperately on the pillow beneath it. “It’s - Oh!....Ah! Y- y- yours!” she managed to cry before she was wailing, crying to the moon and stars overhead at the sensations he was wringing from her body, feelings she had never known she could experience to miss them before that moment.

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

After the wave had crested and fallen, and Killian had indeed claimed her yet again, Emma lay boneless and sated, running her fingers through his sweaty hair as his head rested on her chest, ear pressed to her still-racing heart, sprawled half atop her and half to her side. Though she had her kingdom to rule, and the person beside her who could help her, be her partner just as her parents had done and would surely have wished for her, Queen Emma of Misthaven could have happily basked in the glow of that simple quiet moment forever, never moving from that very spot.

“I’m yours,” she reiterated calmly, solemn and true, no longer pitched in the throes of passion. She stroked her fingertips over his brow lightly, as if to soothe him to his rest after such wondrous exertions. “Body and soul, Killian Jones.”

And before they both let sleep claim them, he gathered her closer still, arms wrapped around her tightly and nose nuzzling into her neck, Killian replied, “Aye, my Treasure, body and soul, just as I am yours.”

Tagging: @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @anmylica @sotangledupinit @donteattheappleshook @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @winterbaby89 @wefoundloveunderthelight @cosette141 @darkcolinodonorgasm @hollyethecurious @stahlop @xarandomdreamx @lfh1226-linda @drowned-dreamer @zaharadessert

#cs two part fic #cs EF au #captain duckling au #the weight of the crown (is a feather on the waves)#part two #the conclusion #at last #birthday fic for @kmomof4

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