#killian x milah

[depressedstressedlemonzest]

He's trying so hard to avoid this conversation

God you can tell it pains him, wanting to tell her but also being afraid that she'll leave after she finds out what he did.

She knows there's more. That you're hiding rumple.

[eastwesthomeisbest]

Second Second Chance: The Devil Is In The Details

- artwork made for amazing story written by wonderful @motherkatereloyshipper for @cssns ( @kmomof4 ), you can read the first chapter here !

[booksteaandtoomuchtv]

In the Lonely Hour (2/10)

A03 | 1 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 Summary: A collection of canon-compliant one-shots that provide glimpses of Killian's life based on the album "In the Lonely Hour" by Sam Smith.

Leave Your Lover Killian develops a fondness for a particular tavern, or rather, a particularly stunning patron of the establishment.

The first time Killian laid eyes on the woman in possession of his heart, he stepped in to protect her from the unwelcome advances of a drunken, aggressive pillock. As he made his introduction to her, he couldn’t take his eyes away from hers. In the depths of those stunning eyes, he saw a hunger that resonated deep within his soul. He shook his head, clearing away the odd direction his thoughts has taken, and offered her the only thing he could; an evening.

Her eyes sparkled with humour before she declined his offer. The humour faded quickly, as she confessed that she was married. Still, she spent the night begging him to fill in every dangerous detail of the deeds his crew were recalling between rolls of dice and warm pints. Her captivating eyes brightened with eagerness and desperate desire as she devoured each story that spilt from his lips.

When the tavern began to quiet, the other guests leaving to live out their own stories, Killian escorted her to the road that would take her back to her life, back to her husband. He watched her until her form was indistinguishable in the darkness, her presence fading into the horizon like the last echoes of a dream upon waking.

He had not expected to cross paths with the intriguing woman, Milah, from that night again when she threw herself down on the bench next to him, slapped a fresh pint on the table in front of him, and greeted him with a breathtaking smile. She leaned in close, the sweet smell of vanilla washing over him, a pleasant change from the salty ocean air and demanded that he tell her of his latest adventures. He obliged her but did some prodding of his own, he wished to better understand this woman, whose smile and stunning eyes had plagued him since the last time he’d set foot on land. On some level, he was drawn back to this port by a yearning to catch a glimpse of her once more.

That night, she told him of her life, her dreams and disappointments; she painted for him a portrait of an audacious woman imprisoned by the bonds of matrimony. He felt an ache in his chest at the misery that seemed to drain all the colour from her life. He quite liked providing her with distraction, a splash of colour returned to her. To that end, he taught her the gambling games men played in taverns like these. More importantly, he taught her how to win them and to throw them, to control her own destiny.

The rowdy tavern was soon filled with her triumphant laughter as she quickly caught on to how to read her opponents and she was ruthless when she found their weaknesses and tells; she took one of his younger deckhands for all his booty from their latest venture. Killian felt an odd sense of pride at how well she took his lessons and his cold heart warmed watching her handle his sea-hardened men without a hint of fear and with humour alight in her eyes. This lass had him mesmerised and he ached at the thought the night would draw to an end.

Perhaps it was the rum, but as they parted that night, it was his voice he heard asking her to join his crew.  She declined with a wistful smile. Milah kissed his cheek before disappearing on that cursed road twisting through the darkened wood. He looked on with hope she would change her mind; but as the sky lightened and the space between the trees was filled with the dreamlike, hazy light of the early morning, he gave up his vigil and returned to his crew and to the only home he’d ever known.

When he returned to port - once more- on a clear night, weeks before they needed supplies, he could no longer deny that he was helplessly lost to the song of this siren. He was anxious to see her and tell her of his recent travels, he’d even taken to writing bits he knew she’d want to hear about so as to remember the details when they were next reunited.

The tavern was filled with townsfolk escaping the cold evening to enjoy the establishment’s blazing fire and steaming fish stews. The proprietor smiled broadly in greeting when he saw Killian enter, no doubt excited about the extra earnings the man had begun to associate with the captain and his crew.

Killian nodded in return and signalled for a round before settling at a table near the hearth. His left hand remained in his pocket, toying with a set of weighted dice, as he scanned the busy room for the brunette lass that he craved far more than the spiced rum that was set before him. His heart dropped when his search failed to uncover the treasure he sought. Shaking off the ridiculous, sudden flood of disappointment, he threw back the remainder of his drink and joined in his crew’s gambling and boasting.

The evening progressed quickly in the way of those filled with laughter and the copious consumption of fine rum. Killian turned toward the bar, a compulsion he would not be able to explain in the future, and he was rewarded by the apparition of his lovely siren. A smile with roots in his soul spread across his features as he staggered, more than swaggered, over to her. He was too far into his drinks to notice how her expression and how it changed when he approached, otherwise he may not have been as caught off guard by the words that greeted him.

“Does the offer still stand, Captain Jones?”

He froze, well, he mostly froze - there was a bit of sway in the lack of movement, “Anything you wish.”

“Take me away from here, Killian.” He’d dreamt of this moment often in the weeks that had passed. Yet, his words and the very air in his lungs seemed to escape him now that it was happening. “Killian?”

The worry and determination in her voice cut through his shock, “Aye, love. I would be honoured for you to join me on the Jolly.”

“Good,” she nodded before shooting back the liquor in the glass before her. She looked relieved and Killian decided this wasn’t the time or place to seek out what had inspired her change of heart, he would have time for that on his ship.

He invited her to celebrate with the men that she would soon be joining. The night was growing old when a feeble man with a walking stick approached the table. He spoke to Milah in a voice that sounded like a whine with words that rang with ownership. It should not have come as a surprise when Milah revealed that it was the husband about whom she spoke with such disdain; yet, Killian could not fathom how the woman he’d come to know so well could be tied to the trembling man standing before him. A man so weak, he brought their child in an effort to bring his mother the heel. When Milah left in a storm of anger and darker emotions, he no longer needed to ask her what had caused her to reconsider his offer.

In one week, enough time for her to gather her things, she would be aboard the Jolly. After the issue of a staged kidnapping, which would likely result in him having to deal with the cowering fool he met tonight, she would be free to live the life that she had been so hungry for since the first night they’d met. He hoped it would be everything she imagined. He hoped that he could be everything she imagined.

[where-i-breathe]

Milah: “If he’s not moving, I’m not either. If he tries to steal this thing, I’ll give a shout.”

Another reason to hate Rumple: by being the scheming, lying bastard he (always) is, he ends up keeping Milah from seeing Killian because she knows his nature and what he’s capable of, she knows she must stay with the boat. Within a few minutes of Emma meeting Milah, Emma already soothed her by sharing the private conversation between herself and Neal she didn’t have to tell so as to stop the brunette’s worries by informing that her son is in a better place; Rumple can’t even let Milah have the one moment she wants with Killian, whatever it was going to be. Without her consent he decided the rest of her life for her, he killed her, snatched away the last time she could see the man she gave up everything to be with, then obliterated her for good when she tried to stop his deceit (all the while blaming her for it all) - he really is the lowest low.

[naiariddle]

Killian the husband

I never really believed Killian's words "Well, I've had many a man's wife". I doubt he was celibate, far from it, but as @scripted-downfall wrote in this fantastic post (X), all his words and actions in the scene on the ship served a purpose: defend Milah's honour

"I also think, though: that’s the point.  The entire encounter is most assuredly a sham.  A test.

Mainly, because this entire encounter is completely and totally out of character for Killian.  If there’s one thing that can be said for him, it’s that he is absolutely a man of honor.  So, why then does he say, “I’ve had many a man’s wife?”  We know for a fact — albeit post-episodically — that he doesn’t make a practice of starting affairs with married women; as mentioned above, when we see him meet Milah in “Devil’s Due,” all it takes for him to back off is for her to say she has a husband"

(and yes I have to put this image, the proof of his honour to women and his start with Milah).

He finally started a relationship with Milah but only after her husband proved a coward a following a code of honour.

My point also with this post: Killian the many men wives man? I would say "Killian Jones, the most faithful ONLY one WIFE ever".

Like he promised to be faithful to Emma's memory forever:

And he was, body and soul

And after reunited he was the most caring, loving, amazing boyfriend and later husband

Because it is just Killian's nature.

[shady-swan-jones]

you have any cs fanfic where it has captain book/beauty friendship (like they are best friends or belle gives advice) xx

Spinning Wheels and Feet That Run (but They Come Back Home)AU. Post break-up with both Gold and Milah, Killian and Belle take off on a road trip across the US to clear their heads and dust off their hearts.[Captain Book BroTP adventures. Nascent Captain Swan. Mentions of past Millian sex and one night stands.]Rating: M | Words: 6000

UntitledKillian and Belle and their first night on the Jolly Roger together.Rating: G | Words: 700

The Pirate and the Books by @ahsagitarius  Killian's reaction to this realm's books. Based on a prompt on tumblr: A Captain Book BrOTP fic.

book club by @dammmithardison decided to write a Captain Book fic based on a post on tumblr.

The Beauty in Apartment 13B by @lassluna It's not easy to find your happy ending. But there's nothing like having your best friend along for the ride. Captain Book, ultimate friendship. 

Behind the Closed Doors of Despair by @justanotherwannabeclassic As she struggles with the emotions of ordering Rumple across the town line the night prior, Belle has a surprising visitor. Captain Book BroTP.

Mates by captainodonewithyou After Belle saves the town from Rumpelstiltskin's wrath and Killian's girlfriend runs off on another adventure, he cannot help but worry for the Dark Ones wife- and he decides to pay the troubled couple a visit.

Quality Damage by @scapeartist Filler fic for 4x11 "Heroes and Villains." Killian and Emma share a quiet moment after she replaces his heart, but something is bothering him, and no matter how much he wants to spend time with Emma, he needs to run this one errand. Captain Book (Hook x Belle) brotop bookended with Captain Swan.

Her Smile by @gingerchangeling What happens when too many misunderstandings stack up on top of each other?

[storiesxtold]

@justmilah continued from [x]

Perhaps he had had too much to drink tonight. Perhaps he shouldn't have gone on so long about the two of them going off together to find their own adventure. Perhaps he should just sit back and keep the rest of his thoughts to himself. But the seemingly never-ending rum and ale he'd had that night wouldn't let him just sit back and pretend he didn't want her.

"Then come with me!" He slammed his fist on the table in front of them, earning them a few looks from people nearby. He sighed, some of the anger leaving him when their foreheads pressed together. Her hands on his face helped to ground him a little bit, but his desires wouldn't leave so easily.

Killian wanted so badly to understand that she wanted to stay for her son, but no one had ever stayed for him. That should have made him want better for the boy, but he wanted better for Milah. He wanted better for himself. He tried to push past the haze of the drink and come up with a solution to this problem.

"Bring the lad with us. Boys love ships. I grew up on a ship! He'll be fine!"

[hannahhook7744]

The Jones Siblings edits part 1;

Sir Gwaine and Eira ship moodboard.

Perwaine (Sir Gwaine and Sir Percival) ship moodboard.

Perwaine ship edit.

Zeliam (Zelena Mills x Liam Jones ||) ship moodboard.

Captain Swan (Killian Jones/Captain Hook x Emma Swan) ship moodboard.

Milan (Milah x Killian Jones) ship moodboard.

The Princess that Never smiled (Cynthia Jones) and the Hard Worker (Nikolai Agafonov) ship moodboard.

Valentine Jones and Penny Sweets (The Pea Princess) ship moodboard.

Killian Jones/Captain Hook Moodboard.

Sir Gwaine Moodboard.

Fanon Gwaine Family edits-- featuring Killian Jones, Mercutio, and Valetine.

[that-fandom-godess]

The Lost Queen

Prologue

The clatter of swords echo in the empty street. “Ships that pass in the night. Well, at least one ship.” The Dark One says before resuming with the pirate Captain. As they continue to fight Rumpelstiltskin pushes the Captain into some barrels, knocking him down. He gets back up quickly and lunges at his opponent, hoping to kill him. Instead, their swords form an ‘X’, drawing their faces close together. Rumpelstiltskin laughs in his opponent’s face, already knowing who would win. The men continue their struggle until the pirate in on the ground, away from his sword.

            “Go on. I’m ready for the sword.” The Captain says as the Dark One pushes his sword deeper into his throat.

            “No.” Rumpelstiltskin says leaning in. “Do you know what it’s like to have your wife stolen from you? To feel powerless to stop it? It feels like having your heart ripped from your chest. Actually, let me show you.” He plunges his hand into the pirate’s chest, gripping his heart.

            “Stop!” A familiar woman cries behind him. Rumpelstiltskin turns to look at her, his hand still in someone’s chest.

            “Milah? How?” Rumple says pulling his hand out and standing to face her.

            “Milah, you have to run.”

“No. I'm not leaving without you.” She says to the pirate on the ground.

“Oh, how sweet. It appears there's more to this tale than I know. Tell it to me, Milah.”

“Please don't hurt him. I can explain.”

“Tick-tock, dearie. Tick-tock.”

“That first night, when Killian and his crew came into the tavern, he told stories about the places he'd been, and I fell in love with him.” Rumple jams his sword into Killian’s side. “I didn't mean for it to turn out this way. I didn't know how to tell you the truth. I'm sorry.”

“And so here we are. You've come to save the life of your true love, the pirate. I didn't realize the power of true love before. It is impressive. I'd hate to break it up. Actually, no. I'd love to.” He pushes his sword farther into Killian’s side.

“Wait. I have something you want.” She says, trying to help Killian.

“Well, I find that very difficult to believe.” He pulls his sword out of Killian's side and shows him a red stocking hat. “Where did you get that?”

“You know who I took it from. I may not know what The Dark One wants with a magic bean, but I have it.”

“Oh, I feel a proposal coming on.”

“The magic bean in exchange for our lives. Deal?” She becomes more nervous as the Dark One comes closer.

“I wanna see it first.”

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

They all come to The Jolly Roger and negotiate with the magic bean. “Now you’ve seen it. Do we have a deal?” Killian asks.

Rumpelstiltskin starts to argue with Milah about her leaving their son almost a year ago. It becomes more and more heated between the two. “Because I never loved you!” Milah yells at him. This flips a switch in Rumple and he plunges his hand into her chest. He pulled it out holding her heart and crushed it while all Killian can do is watch.

“I’ll have what I came here for first.” Rumple says turning to the wounded pirate.

“You’ll have to kill me first.” Killian spat.

“Ah-ah! I'm afraid that's not in the cards for you, sonny boy.” Rumple cuts off Killian’s have with the bean in it. As the Dark One is about to bid farewell to the crew, a cry comes from the Captain’s Quarters. “What on Earth is that?” He steps over Killian who had fallen to the ground in pain and used his magic to open the door. When he walked in, he saw a makeshift crib with something moving inside. Upon further inspection, there was a child in it. He picks up the baby, who was just barely two weeks old, and took her out to the deck in front of her father.

“You can kill me, but don’t you dare hurt her.” Killian pleaded, trying to stand up.

“Who is her mother?” Rumple asked, already knowing the answer.

“Milah. Now you have taken her away from both her children for good. Don’t you dare harm her.”

“I won’t hurt her dearie. I have another idea.” He disappears in a cloud of smoke with the child.

“NOOOO!” Killian yells running after them, but they are long gone.

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

Rumpelstiltskin appears in the woods still holding the small baby. He looks at her with disgust. “Well, I don’t want you.” He suddenly gets an idea and disappears. Rumple reappears in front of a wooden building. He sets the baby on the ground in front of the building, gives her one last look before walking away.

[redbone135]

[dinneratgrannys]

Top 15 Ships (as voted by my followers) 14. Millian | Killian & Milah Do you know there are cities where the air smells of spices, and women are carried on jeweled chairs? Would you like to see that?

[depressedstressedlemonzest]

Um excuse you? The fuck it isn't her concern.

See.

Love the name. Hate the bitch.

Tit for tat really.

All I fucking think about 😂😂😂

[eastwesthomeisbest]

Second Second Chance: The Devil Is In The Details - chapter 2

- artwork made for the second chapter of the amazing story written by wonderful @motherkatereloyshipper for @cssns ( @kmomof4 )

Go give @motherkatereloyshipper lots of love and positive vibes!

[booksteaandtoomuchtv]

7, 12, 17, and 23 for the ask game!

Thank you for playing/asking!! I am going to make these OUAT-themed for you. 

7. What character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because of how the fandom acts about them?

Neal.

I was pretty indifferent regarding Neal during my first two watch-throughs. He did some pretty crappy things and some pretty awesome things (in two episodes, upon his return to Neverland, and the competence he showed there was uncomfortably attractive). But what makes OUAT such a great show is that every character is deeply nuanced and complicated. They all do awful and good things - like people. 

But, then I walked into the Neal fandom. 

And rather than feeling a love for the show and the characters and the everything that makes OUAT one of my go-to shows, it seemed to be defined by a lot of hatred for the show and for the characters in the show. It just feels like fans of his character are glued together by anger at the show rather than enjoyment. And, it is so prevalent that I slowly backed right back out. 

12. The unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

Milah? Belle? 

These two suffered at the hands of the writers so much to move the development for Rumple or Hook that it is difficult to say, “This is the reason why they are lovely people and you should adore them.” 

But, I think they should be less disliked - they are both trapped in impossible situations with limited avenues of escape. 

17. There should be more of this type of fic/art

I think we could do with some more fix-it fics for Belle. The poor woman was typically a plot device for Rumple. She deserved more. 

23. Ship you've unwillingly come around to

Milah x Liam in Underbrooke

I don’t think Milah loved Killian. She loved the life that Killian could provide for her. But, Liam (older) and Milah work. 

[onceuponamillianshipper]

Milah

-Does tasks and activities typically reserved for men (such as gathering wood)

-Sliced a deadly snake in half with no hesitation

-Resisted temptation (those ocean eyes, that charming smile, that voice, that entire leather clad pirate who offered her the world on a silver platter) to care for her son

-Became a badass pirate queen

-Earned respect from a pirate crew and was basically treated as being equal to the captain (as seen when Killian is injured and she helps him to the ship. She gives the crew orders and they immediately obey without protest. You know it's not the first time that's happened)

-Was completely unintimidated by Rumple as the Dark One, saying she never loved him and letting him know she thought he was an idiot

-Sincerely regretted leaving Baelfire and admitted she was wrong

-Didn't let Rumple cause conflict between her and Emma

-Was 100% willing to team up with her murderer ex husband and the woman who had been with both her former lover and her son in order to save that lover

-Seriously, she knows there's no way out of the Underworld for her, and no future with Killian, who was the love of her life, but risked herself and immediately dropped everything to help Emma save Killian while never treating Emma like a rival

-Died again trying to warn Emma that her murderer ex husband was betraying them

-Had such an effect on Killian that he got her name tattooed on his arm and spent centuries trying to avenge her death

In conclusion, Milah had that BIG DICK ENERGY

[capnjay21]

doubt truth to be a liar (never doubt I love) 1/1

I have missed writing for CS, so this is me throwing something back out into the ether and seeing who yells back.  In the weeks that follow their return from the Underworld, Killian begins to question the new revelations that have changed everything. CS, with effusively referenced Milah/Killian. 

Rating: T Words: 2,992 AO3

Even now, weeks on, Hell still clutches at his back.

It murmurs in his ear, brushes white hot caresses down his spine until he spasms, and conjures the scent of smoke and rotting flesh no matter how long he spends scrubbing his clothes to get it out. His neck occasionally smarts with phantom pain, and in hostile, fleeting flashes, the streets of his home burn in a mirage of orange and he panics, clutching at whomever is near to him to pull him back to the world above. In his quieter moments, he can hear the ground whispering, beckoning him back into the darkness underneath.

Zeus had put him back where he belonged, he daren’t doubt that; the souls of the departed do not always agree.

No matter how many times his friends suggest it might help, he does not return to the park. Not when a drop of his blood into the lake, the blood of a man restored, might lure the unworldly mist and summon the only beings with the power to drag him back to the Underworld. When he considers it, he cannot stop his breath from catching.

These are some of the new truths for Killian Jones. Not all, but some.

Others are far more pleasant.

Like the way he can wake up beside Emma in a house they call their own, and have her only tuck herself deeper into his side. The way he can join the Charmings for dinner at Granny’s without remark, how he can take Henry sailing when the weather is fair, how willing Regina is to trade barbs over a game of darts instead of a clash of wills; after their ordeals over the past year, he is finally a proud, welcome member of their family. It wasn’t just Emma’s quest to rescue him, it was all of theirs. He is happy. And when his soul burns red Killian can make love to Emma and she will be right there with him, loving him, begging for the sun to rise.

He loves Emma more than anything in any realm. This is not a new truth for Killian Jones.

What is, however, is the strength of that love. True Love, capital T, capital L. Emma lying atop him as an ancient door creaks open, you chose me. The most powerful magic of all, and he and Emma share it. That knowledge bolsters their interactions, pulls smiles from a light inside of him whenever it is mentioned, becomes the foundation for many a teasing jest mumbled into the juncture of her neck while she giggles into his shoulder.

Other than that, nothing feels different.

And it’s been gnawing away at him.

Emma Swan is his True Love. True Love like the kind that meant Snow White and Prince Charming could share a heart, the kind that could revive Henry from a sleeping curse, that could rescue entire worlds from darkness. With as much as he loves Emma, this does not feel entirely beyond the realm of reason. When they are together he feels like he can make entire kingdoms collide. That said, there wasn’t some shining moment he decided what he felt for her was pure — it built, it pounded against him gently first until it cascaded to a roar that nearly overwhelmed his senses. He didn’t know he felt it until he realised the ringing in his ears had already been there for what felt like centuries.

The only trouble is, this isn’t the only time he’s felt this way.

“What is it that makes love True?” he queries one afternoon, when he can suppress the question no longer. Beside him Snow starts, and he realises that although his thoughts have been full of their usual tumult, they had been working quite pleasantly in silence.

After lunch, David and Emma had been called away on some minor emergency on the other side of Storybrooke, and after they had insisted they would not need any assistance he had volunteered to stay with Snow and finish clearing up. They settled easily into a routine, her washing and him drying, and as he watched her he couldn’t help but imagine she was some sort of authority on the subject of True Love; she and David were the staple pair, surely. The story of Snow White and Prince Charming was practically synonymous with the concept. So, without thinking, he blurts the question forward.

When Snow turns to look at him curiously he feels a warm flush creep up from his collar, so he busies himself with putting a plate away, balancing the cloth on his hook.

“What do you mean?” she asks, not unkindly.

Killian offers an abashed shrug. “Just — this whole True Love palaver. I’m not entirely certain I understand it.”

Snow laughs. “I don’t know if there’s anything to understand,” she smiles as if he’s a child making a funny remark about something straightforward, and it irks him slightly. “You just feel it. You must know what I mean, you and Emma have it.”

“No, I do, I do feel it,” he says, drawing out the word, “I would do anything for Emma and she for me. What I mean is… who decides? Who decides when the love a heart feels is True or — or just regular love?”

(Is it wonderful, she had breathed, to travel so much?

He had told her of the air filled with spices, of distant queens in fleeting kingdoms —

— Sometimes he thinks he may have loved her even then.)

“Is there such a thing as regular love?”

“Well,” Killian scratches behind his ear, “not every impassioned couple has the ability to break a curse.”

“It’s not about that,” she turns fully to face him, drying her hands on a dishcloth. “It’s about building something together over time, it’s about sacrifice.” She lets out a long sigh. “I’ve never loved anybody like I love David. It’s just more. And those are all the answers I have, I’m afraid.”

She nudges his shoulder playfully with hers, and he knows she means to lighten the mood, but all she has said only vexes him further.

“I’m not a young man. I’ve loved before Emma,” it’s not quite a confession when the entirety of Storybrooke knew about his feud with the Crocodile, “fiercely. I would’ve easily given my life for her — I tried to, she didn’t let me.” He leans heavily against the counter, and although he can see Snow’s expression shifting into one of sympathy, he presses on. “But with all this talk of True Love, of its rarity, that you should consider yourself lucky to have felt it once…” Killian shrugs helplessly. “What does that mean for Milah?”

He feels a squeeze on his upper arm, sees Snow’s hand resting there. “Oh, Killian.”

“Did I not love her, then?” Three hundred years of all-encompassing grief and a vehement desire for revenge would, to him, suggest the contrary. Which left another possibility clutching suddenly at his insides with anguish. “Or did she not love me?”

The mere idea of it makes him seize up. She had risked Hades’ wrath to help Emma and the others get to him in the Underworld, and had lost her soul to eternal torment in the process. Even the satisfaction of knowing that Hades had been destroyed isn’t quite enough to soothe that particular ache. What if she had never truly loved him?

“Have you spoken to Emma about this?” Snow asks gently. Killian frowns, shakes his head. He doesn’t exactly think bringing up his past love is the most romantic of conversations. “I think you should.”

She’s probably right.

“But I will say this,” she continues, “what you and Emma have… it’s special. But it doesn’t make what came before any less so. We are all who we are because of our experiences.” She rises on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve fought hard for your happiness — please remember to enjoy it.”

She leaves him in the kitchen then, her words having done little to soothe his troubled mind.

-/-

Killian takes a moment to observe the house they have built together as Emma rises from her position nestled into his side on the sofa. She reaches for their discarded plates, and heads out into the kitchen.

The room had felt enormous when she had first welcomed him inside it, all bare walls and scarcely populated floor space — it had been a reflection, really, on the darkened state of her mind that found itself projected onto the even colder space around them. Even when she had led him to the telescope and the stunning view of the sea he found it hard to imagine making a home out of it. Yet, on their return from the Underworld, they had done exactly that.

A fire burns in the hearth, bright and warm, golden light flickering from memory to memory across the room. The once exposed walls are now lined with Henry’s schoolwork, with photos of the Charmings, of Regina, of Robin. Robin. The man whose soul had been lost because of Emma’s quest to save him. They both owe him so much, it had felt important to honour him some way as they moved forward; he would never be forgotten.

Killian had never even considered finding a home apart from the sea — he had been abandoned first on the ocean, lost his brother to its lure, it was hard to even fathom another person becoming a reason to maroon himself away from its natural pull. Yet when he sees pieces of the life he and Emma are just beginning to stitch together from their rags of broken things, it is impossible to ignore the reality. Anchored, but exquisitely happy.

Lost in thought, Killian only just realises Emma has been speaking, her voice floating above the running of the tap in the next room.

“I told him if he wanted that kind of ‘favour’ he’d need to ask Regina — and whaddya know, he asks to stay at hers an extra night. He’s as transparent as they come. Still,” she continues, and he can hear the padding of her socks on the floor bringing her nearer, “we don’t mind the extra night on our own, do we?”

Mary Margaret’s advice rings quietly in his ear, like a murmur. When Killian lifts his head to see her standing in the doorway, he is as always stunned by her beauty. Even dressed down for an evening spent in their house, she could not appear lovelier.

“Emma,” he says softly, and maybe it’s his tone or his mood all evening, but the utterance gives her pause, “may I talk to you about something?”

“Of course,” she responds automatically, and as she crosses the room and drops down next to him he can see the light furrow in her brow. He wants nothing more than to smooth it over with his thumb, kiss the uncertainty from the line of her mouth. Trepidation stays his hand.

When he doesn’t immediately respond, Emma turns to face him on the sofa and reaches a hand across to squeeze his arm. “You were thrashing about in your sleep again last night.”

Hades had him dangled above the river of lost souls, only that time Emma had not made it before he found oblivion.

“Is it —?”

“Aye,” he says, partly to stop her dwelling on the subject. They had spoken enough of his ordeal to last a lifetime. “But I find my mind is frayed with thoughts of a different kind.” She waits, her expression open and kind. It is so far from the walls she threw up the moment they met that his heart squeezes with gratitude — it becomes stifling to even consider revealing that which he had quietly admitted to her mother that morning. “I don’t want to hurt you, Swan.”

(And perhaps maybe a year ago, that comment may have spooked her.)

Emma lifts his hand and squeezes it. Quietly determined. “Go ahead.”

“Recently,” he starts, and it is difficult to find the words, “recently I can’t help feeling… I love you,” he hastens to assure her, “and I know you love me. That this love is true. We have proof of that.”

“No broken curses in sight but we did open a creepy old door.”

Killian breathes out a laugh to match the glimmer of amusement in her expression, the way her mouth is tugged gently into a smirk. He feels some of the tension in his shoulders ease away even as he is drawn back into solemnity.

“I just — recently, I can’t help but feel this… veneration of what lies between us makes me a traitor to an old love.”

Emma’s eyes dawn with understanding. She nods slowly once.

“Milah.”

“It sounds ridiculous.”

“Hey, I met her, remember?” Emma sidesteps his attempt at a dismissal with ease. “She was kind, and brave, and nothing about you wanting to honour her memory is ridiculous.”

Killian slips his hand out of Emma’s, runs it through his hair.

“I find myself doubting even that which I’ve always taken for truth. Did she and I not love each other as much as you and I do? Why is one hailed as True where the other just… was?” He sighs. “I even pestered your mother today, such is the extent of my anxiety.”

Was he merely a fool?

Emma had turned her face slightly away from him, staring into the hearth with a soft frown, thoughtful in its most open corners. It makes Killian squirm to see it, and he instantly wishes he hadn’t been so thoughtless as to follow Snow White’s advice.

(Of course she would advocate for total honesty, spilling secrets was practically her modus operandi).

“I’m sorry.” He means it with a depth and severity he cannot measure, and reaches for her hand again. “I want to just enjoy what we have. I wish I weren’t thinking this way.”

“I love that you are.”

A damn lucky fool.

Killian’s bemusement must have shown on his face, because Emma smiles kindly as if he were Henry asking for help with a particularly challenging mathematical problem.

“You think I haven’t had similar thoughts?” she muses. “I loved before you too, you know.”

A vision of Baelfire stuns him then, the familiar rush of guilt and anguish and sorrow coming to the fore before he attempts to soothe them with thoughts of the peace of their last encounter. With Emma’s love, quietly earned and steadfastly valued. He knows the young man would approve — he can feel it in the deepest chambers of his heart.

“Neal might not have always been brave, but he was when it counted. He died for me and Henry. You and me, we’re…” Emma hesitates, and he can see her searching for the right words to pluck from the space between them. “We’re different to Mom and Dad. They fought hard for their love, sure, but they’ve never lost. Not really. Not the way you and I have.”

(I love you, she had whispered, before crumpling into his arms —

— the beast had laughed, cackled, taunted the extent of his despair —

Is it wonderful, she had breathed, to travel so much?)

“I never thought I would love again after Neal. I imagine things were the same for you.”

He had spent 300 years convinced he never would, he never could. Had foregone all else in his pursuit of revenge.

Until he met her.

“Aye,” he agrees, needlessly. She knows the answer already.

“Then maybe —” Emma begins with a renewed sense of purpose, adjusts her position next to him, demands his full focus as she tosses some of her hair over her shoulder impatiently. “Maybe it’s not some secret power or magical authority that decides what’s different this time. Maybe it’s just us.”

He frowns, waits for her to continue.

“We chose each other, Killian. After everything that’s happened to us.”

He thinks back to the test that had engulfed him in flame, how Emma had launched herself at him instead of her own heart.

“You chose me,” he echoes that moment with wonder, his mouth beginning to lift into a smile.

She mirrors it. “And you chose me.” As she leans forward he meets her halfway, allows the gentlest press of her lips to his before she pulls back. “I wanted to believe in us, so I did. And here we are.”

And it’s a damn near perfect place to be.

“Here we are.”

“It doesn’t mean we loved them less. It just means we loved again.”

He has no idea if they have reached a real conclusion – whether the breadth of True Love can really be measured in such a way — but he figures if mystical scales buried under miles of rock beneath the mortal realm are authorised to make that judgement, then so are they. It mutes the stir of his mind, in any case. The Milah of his soul can continue to smile, unimpeded by the cloud of his own uncertainty. They had loved. Bloody hell, they had loved. And they had lost.

Zeus had made it clear enough; he was where he belonged now.

“I like that,” he decides, kissing her again because he can’t not do it.

“Me too.”

“I like you.”

Emma laughs, and it’s an open and honest sound. “Yeah, the feeling’s mutual.”

As the embers die he finds comfort with her long into the night. When they make love he watches stars burst around them, feels her warmth carry him into a dreamless sleep. With her, he need not worry where his home might be anymore. The earth does not beckon him beneath its shell, and as the dark stretches until morning he does not again doubt that the sun will rise.

He knows it with a certainty, a surety, one only born of the privilege to deeply love, and be loved deeply in return.