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The doors of the Arendelle palace slowly draw open, pressing against the bitter night and howling wind. A gust steals into the entrance hall, buffeting the two women hurrying over. Emma shivers, but continues on with Elsa, keeping a tight grip on her friend’s hand. They reach the doors just as the poor souls outside finally breach through.
“Captain Jones! What happened?!” Elsa asks, aghast at the sight before her and rushing to help the guards push the doors shut again.
Liam and three other men stumble into the palace, the weight of the sailors hanging between them nearly proving to be too much for their cold muscles. They carry two injured men, whose arms are slung around their crewmate’s shoulders. Liam shifts his charge as he prepares to answer and reveals the man’s face.
“Killian!” Emma cries frantically, a heavy stone of dread and panic settling in her stomach. No. No no no please no. She nearly trips in her haste to reach him.
“We were s-securing the ship, your highness, when Thomas—” Liam nods to the other injured man, who seems to be hardly able to stand on his own and is shivering violently— “slipped on the ice and fell into the sea. Killian d-dove in after him and got him out of the water alright, but he was trapped against the dock by an ice floe. By the time we got him out, his tremors were already starting to slow.” Liam tightens his grip on Killian, shuffling his feet, his normally steady gaze now full of fear. “Please, we’ve got to get them to the doctor. They need blankets and a fire and—”
“Of course, Captain,” Elsa says quickly. She nods to the palace guards. “You, go and rouse Doctor Johansen. You, build a fire in two of the northwest bedrooms. They will be easier to heat than the entire infirmary. You, find as many thick blankets as you can. And you, tell the kitchens to heat up some water and broth, and prepare hot water skins.”
Emma barely hears what Elsa is saying. She can’t tear her eyes away from Killian’s chilled form, his head hanging down, tiny shivers coursing through his frame. He seems barely conscious. Her hands brush against the collar of his naval jacket to find his uniform stiff and frozen, draining what little warmth he still possesses. With some difficulty, and help from Liam, she divests him of the jacket, removing her own thick shawl to wrap around his shoulders. Her heart beats out a quickened rhythm of it’s not enough it’s not enough it’s not enough… She rubs her palms against his cheeks, his fingers, his ears. All are cold to the touch. His hair and eyelashes are crusted with delicate crystals of ice, and the effect might be beautiful if not for his concerning lack of response to her touch.
More guards arrive amidst the commotion, and Elsa turns to Liam once more, her tone firm and commanding. “We’ll take them to meet the doctor. You and your crewmen need to warm up too, Captain. Go down to the kitchens, warm yourselves by the cooking fires, and ask the servants to bring you dry clothes and hot soup.” She motions as she speaks, the picture of authority.
“Milady, my crew will do as you say, but I will stay with my brother.” Liam draws Killian closer to him, a fierce protectiveness burning in his gaze.
“Liam-”
“He can be treated upstairs too, Elsa. But we need to go now,” Emma interrupts her friend, an apology shining in her eyes and urgency coloring her voice, still trying to rub some warmth back into Killian. (Not him, please not him, don’t take him.) She knows how worried Elsa must be about Liam, but Killian is much worse off at the moment. And if Liam has the strength to defy a queen to her face, Emma knows that he will be fine.
Elsa’s objections die on her lips. “Very well. Follow me.”
There’s a hasty transfer of bodies as Liam’s crewmen hand their charges off to the guards. Emma stops the man trying to take Killian’s weight.
“I’ve got him. Let’s go, Liam.” Her voice wavers a bit, and she doesn’t wait to hear the guard’s “yes, your highness” before heading to the stairs. Emma meets Liam’s gaze over Killian’s frozen form, finding gratitude beneath the overwhelming concern.
They get Killian up the steps as quickly as possible, not an easy task between his dead weight and his feet dragging against the ground. Emma hears Liam mutter a desperate, “Hold on, little brother,” and, despite the group of people surrounding them, finds the hallway strangely empty without Killian’s usual rebuke.
The doctor throws open the bedroom door just as they turn the corner. “Straight in here! Quickly now, time is of the essence!” She ties up her long hair, supplies already piled on the small table in the corner. “William! Get more logs into that fire. Captain, your highness, on the bed if you please. Sitting up, we need to get those wet clothes off as soon as possible. Will someone see if the hot water skins are ready in the kitchen?” She removes Emma’s shawl from around Killian’s shoulders and rips his shirt open down the middle, nearly elbowing Emma in the face in the process. “Apologies, Princess Emma-“
“Don’t worry about it,” Emma says brusquely. “What can I do?” Her heart pounds with anxiety as she takes in the blue tinge to Killian’s lips from her position at his side. She and Liam are still supporting him.
“One moment; Queen Elsa, my senior apprentice Greta is in the room next attending to the other crewman. He is in fine hands, I assure you. I was told that Lieutenant Jones was worse, so both my junior apprentice, William, and I will remain here,” Doctor Johansen says matter-of-factly. Emma can’t help but feel a bit relieved at the woman’s solid confidence and commanding presence, even though Killian is far from being out of danger.
“Very good, Doctor, thank you. I think I will go and look in on him. The Lieutenant is in good company with Princess Emma and Captain Jones.” Elsa sends Emma a meaningful look, wishing she could remain with her friend but needing to fulfill her queenly duties. Emma tries to smile back to tell Elsa it’s okay, but it comes out more as a grimace, as preoccupied as she is with the shivers running through Killian’s hands.
“Now, Princess, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave for a moment, so Captain Jones and I can change the lieutenant into some warm clothes.” The doctor says this as she removes Killian’s frozen boots with difficulty, already moving to his uniform belt.
“No-“
“Princess, I can’t-“
“It will go much faster if I help, and it’s nothing that I haven’t seen before.” Emma’s tone leaves no room for argument. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Liam’s ears turn red. “Liam, I know-“
“It’s fine, Emma. He’s more important right now,” Liam says, his voice strained but not unkind.
“Very well,” the doctor says, and instructs them in replacing Killian’s frozen garments with a thick pair of sleep trousers and a shirt. They maneuver him under the blankets with maximum efficiency before the doctor and her apprentice step out of the room to get more hot water.
Emma is already sweating from the effort, with the bed positioned as close as possible to the roaring fireplace without becoming a hazard. She pushes her hair away from her face with annoyance, joining Liam in wrapping blanket after blanket around Killian’s shoulders and across his body where he leans against the pillows. His color looks a little better, she thinks, though she isn’t entirely sure that isn’t just wishful thinking.
“Emma,” Liam says quietly as he positions a hot water flask at Killian’s chest. “I don’t want to undermine the doctor’s authority, but he needs more.”
“More…?”
“He needs more heat.” Liam’s grip on Killian’s trembling hand visibly tightens. “He’ll warm up faster if someone’s in there with him, and I think he’d prefer you to me.”
Emma stares at Liam for a second, gauging whether his eyes match his words. She and Liam had gotten off to a rocky start when Killian had first courted her, with Liam wary of entrusting her with his brother’s heart and Emma’s pride wounded by that distrust. Though there is hesitance in his gaze, his shoulders are set with determination, and she knows that ensuring his little brother’s well-being is the only thing that matters to him right now.
She strips down, stopping at her thin chemise despite knowing that uninhibited skin-to-skin contact is best, but with others in the room, she does not dare to remove it. Liam gently takes off Killian’s shirt, taking care to keep as much of him covered by the blanket as possible. The doctor returns, carrying two more skins full of heated water, just as Emma is climbing into the bed.
“Ah, it appears you are one step ahead of me, your highness,” she says in a satisfied tone. “Very good.”
“But you had said before—“
“Yes, I apologize, I didn’t realize how close you were to the lieutenant, but there’s no reason to deprive him of such an effective remedy now.” She hands Emma the water skins. “Focus on his torso and extremities, please.”
Emma does as instructed, anxiously watching from her position next to Killian under blankets as the doctor inspects his fingers and toes for frostbite.
“How is he?”
“If we keep up with the warming methods, I don’t think there should be any lasting damage. It was fortunate that you got him here so quickly, Captain.”
Liam only nods, burying his head in his hands with a shaky sigh of relief.
Emma snuggles closer to Killian, draping her arm across his stomach and lining her torso up against his. He is still a bit cool to the touch, but his tremors seem to be slowing down, this time for the better. She wraps one of his hands in her own, relishing in the calluses and underlying strength, grateful that he’s going to be okay.
“Thank you,” she says to the doctor, hoping that her voice adequately conveys her gratitude.
“Of course, Princess. I’m going to check in on our other sailor, but I’m just a shout away if you need me. When the lieutenant wakes, have the kitchens bring up a pot of the hot broth, and maybe some tea as well.”
Emma nods, but has already turned her attention back to Killian as Doctor Johansen leaves the room. She studies his face, his eyelashes damp with melted ice, and brushes some similarly damp hair back from his forehead, checking the tips of his ears as she does and relieved to find them warming up as well. It’s already becoming uncomfortably hot under the many blankets with the water skins, but she can bear it as long as he needs her.
She realizes that Liam has not said anything for a while (most unlike him), and looks over to the chair next to the bed to see that he hasn’t moved since the doctor confirmed the likeliness of Killian's full recovery. Liam’s head is still in his hands, his shoulders sagging, the blanket that was draped across him sliding slowly toward the floor.
“He’s going to be alright, Liam,” she says gently. “You got him here in time.”
Liam nods slowly, finally lifting his head. Emma’s heart pangs at the sight of his red-rimmed eyes, and she wishes that could offer comfort to the man she one day hopes to call brother-in-law. It’s hard enough for her, who loves Killian with all her heart, to see him like this, but the pain is tenfold for Liam, who practically raised Killian since their father left and mother died. Emma doesn’t mention his tears though, directing her gaze to the fireplace so he can wipe them away.
He scoots his chair closer to Killian’s bed, carefully eyeing the color returning to his brother’s cheeks and his steady breathing, no longer interrupted by chattering teeth or tremors. It seems that Killian passes his inspection, for he turns his gaze to Emma.
“I, um… I know we don’t always see eye-to-eye, but I- thank you for being here for him tonight. He’s lu- I’m glad he has you in his corner, Emma.” Liam seems a bit uncomfortable, like he wants to shift and look away, but he doesn’t break eye contact with her as he speaks.
Emma, though she never needed his approval of their relationship, is touched all the same. “I would do anything for him, Liam. Just as I know you would.” It’s a bit strange to be talking to Liam when she’s practically wrapped around his brother, Killian’s chest hair pressed against her cheek where her head rests, but needs must.
Liam searches her face, his piercing blue eyes a bit unnerving in their similarity to his brother’s. “You love him.”
“I do,” Emma whispers. “So much.”
Liam waits a moment, then a wry smile creeps over his face. “Good. Because he certainly loves you.”
She smiles, her heart swelling with warmth and happiness. “I know.” Her fingers absentmindedly stroke Killian’s, over the creases on his knuckles and the lines on his palm.
They let a comfortable silence fill the room after that, both still attuned to Killian’s every breath, waiting for him to wake. Emma’s attention is diverted to Liam again, however, once she notices how heavily his damp uniform hangs off him, and she realizes that he never let anyone attend to him after they brought Killian here.
“Liam.”
“Your highness.”
“You should really change into something warmer. And maybe get some of that soup they’ve got downstairs.”
“I’m not-“
“You were out in that storm too! Do you really want to get sick, or have Elsa see you like this?”
“Really, I’m fine. And the queen-“
“Bloody hell, brother, stop being so stubborn and listen to her.”
Emma gasps happily, letting out a breathless, “Killian!” at the same time Liam does, only hers is muffled as she captures Killian’s mouth in a kiss, not caring that his brother is right next to them. She keeps it brief and resists the urge to run her tongue along the seam of his lips, knowing that there will be plenty of time for that later.
She pulls away, overjoyed to meet his blue gaze, despite the dark circles under his eyes and the exhaustion behind his smile. He shifts under her, and she takes his cue to help him sit up so he can accept a rough hug from Liam.
“I’m so glad you’re alright, little brother,” Liam whispers, his voice breaking a bit.
“Younger brother,” Killian reminds him, but there is no real annoyance in his tone, and Liam only squeezes him harder.
“Killian?”
The three of them turn to the door at the sound of Elsa’s voice, the brothers breaking their hug as Liam tries to discreetly adjust his uniform.
“I thought I heard your voice,” Elsa smiles. “I’m glad to see you’re awake.”
“Thank you, your highness.” Killian’s brow furrows, and his gaze darts between the three of them. “Is Thomas-”
“He’s awake too,” Elsa answers. “And the doctor says he’ll be just fine after a night of rest. You’ll both be.”
Emma feels Killian relax at the news that his crewmate is alright, and she takes his hand and squeezes it gently. He returns the pressure, though his grip is weaker than usual with all the energy his muscles have spent shivering. She runs her hand up his back to rest at the nape of his neck, drawing him to her until their foreheads are touching. She loses herself for a moment in the flutter of his breath across her lips and the warmth of his skin. He’s going to be alright.
They’re torn out of their little refuge by Elsa’s exasperated tone. “Liam, have you not even changed out of your uniform?”
“I confess I have not, milady. I suppose now would be a good time, wouldn’t it?” Liam replies, a bit sheepish but also unrepentant.
Elsa softens, affection in her gaze as she beckons to him. She knows as well as Emma does that Liam had been waiting until his brother was conscious again. “Come on, I had the staff gather some dry clothes for you, and we can get some broth to bring up here for you and Killian.”
Liam follows Elsa out of the room, after Killian says, “Go take care of yourself, brother. I’ll see you in a bit.”
The room is quiet after that but for Emma and Killian’s breathing and the merry crackle of the fire. Killian lets out an involuntary shiver, still sitting up bare-chested with most of the blankets pooled at his waist.
Emma is quick to remedy this. “Here,” she says, pulling off the topmost blanket draped across them and pushing the pillows against the headboard. She wraps the blanket around his shoulders, unfortunately hiding his gorgeous chest from view but unwilling to take any chances on his chill coming back. “Lean back a bit.” He does as she says, still mostly upright but now supported by the feather pillows and protected once again with blankets.
Emma tucks herself into his side, tilting her head back so she can meet his gaze. “I was terrified when they brought you in,” she says quietly.
“I’m sorry I gave you such a fright, love.” His hand runs across her wrist, her palm, and her fingers in soothing strokes.
“Do you remember what happened?”
The light of the fire illuminates his frown, casting dancing shadows across his features. “Thomas fell in the water, and I dove in after him. We got him out, but I was trapped by the waves. I remember Liam and others pulling me out of the frigid sea and taking us up the road to the palace, through the terrible snowstorm, but nothing really after that.”
“You were practically frozen by the time they got you here. You were barely even shivering.” Emma’s voice is strained, a shadow of her earlier fear descending on her as she recalls how blue his lips were, how he didn’t even have the strength to stand.
Killian presses a kiss to her forehead, his low voice vibrating against her skin. “I’m alright now, my love. And I’m lucky enough to have you to keep me warm.”
She reaches up to cup his face, her thumb following it’s favorite path over the scar on his cheek. “I suppose it’s pointless to ask that you never do something like that again.”
He nods, leaning affectionately into her touch, playing with the ends of her hair. “As pointless as it is for me to ask such a thing of you.”
“Mhhm. Just… try to be careful with future heroics?”
“Aye, that I can do.” Killian tilts his head to sweetly brush his lips over hers, sealing his answer with a kiss. Emma takes note of their chapped texture, planning to send for a balm once she can pull herself away from him. But first, she intends to savor this moment with him, with his stubble tickling her chin and his hair soft under her fingers, his warmth filling her soul and chasing away the lingering worries and what-ifs of the night.
Right now, there is only them, together and safe.