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It was complete chaos and then it was nothing.
He had known they were outmatched the minute the frigate’s sails – well, multiple frigates’ sails – appeared upon the horizon, as white and foreboding as storm clouds gathering in the distance. He shouted orders to his crew as he raced across the deck towards the wheel, cursing his own foolish folly in not leaving the island sooner.
Damn it all to hell.
But he was a greedy sort, and the days he spent in the house that had once been his home – their home – were never long enough. Even as the ghosts ripped at his heart, he relished being there. He was a masochist like that, he supposed. The haunted walls wouldn’t let him forget what he had lost – the happy life they had built together here on the edge of the world. Some days he could swear he smelled her perfume drifting through the house’s quiet air, a spicy musk that had turned a young pirate’s head all those years ago. Pain so fierce it nearly brought him to his knees would rip through him in those moments, and he’d have to brace his hand on the wall, gulping breaths as he fought to steady himself. Eventually, his head would clear and the echoes of pain would serve as a much needed reminder. It kept the fire burning in his belly, it kept him focused on the mission at hand.
Focused on his Crocodile prey.
A cannon blast jolted him away from his thoughts, and he skidded behind the wheel as shards of timber exploded all around him. The other ships were on top of them now, and his stomach dropped as the grim realization hit that there probably would be no escape this time. Another cannon fire sounded, and he smiled manically as he saw the deck of the enemy ship explode even as a returning shot rang out towards the Jolly.
At least they wouldn’t be able to say that the great Captain Hook went down without a good fight.
The ships traded fire, blowing holes into one another until finally, with a sickening crack, the giant mast of the Jolly split in half, sails and rope and riggings crashing violently onto the deck and men below.
Fucking buggering bleeding hell.
It was all over now.
The screams of his fellow sailors rang in his ears, and his mind whirled as he saw grappling hooks beginning to anchor on the edge of his ship. Smoke billowed from the exposed hull as fire began to engulf the wooden vessel, his once pristine deck splintered into tinder. He drew his pistol, picking off the first of the enemy crew to climb over the railing. He knew he didn’t have near enough bullets for them all, but he would take as many down with him as he could. He was just reloading when he heard it, the low sound of a conch shell that could only mean one thing.
Her .
His blue eyes frantically searched the cresting waves and floating debris for her, the woman he was sure was an apparition. Maybe it was just his mind preparing itself for his inevitable journey to Davy Jones’ locker, and she was his very own angel of death. But blonde hair finally caught his eye, and she looked at once real and impossible, a sea goddess perched on a far off rock, red tail disappearing into the dark waters. He had only caught glimpses of her until now, flashes of gold and cream illuminated in the moonlight on quiet, still nights.
He saw her hand begin to lift when suddenly a cannonball exploded next to him, shattering the wheel and sending him soaring through the air. Darkness crept into the edges of his vision as the pain seared through him. And then the sea was there, cold in her embrace as she pulled him down into her quiet, murky depths.
Down into the nothing.
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She hated this.
Sitting on a rock well out of harm’s way, Emma’s hand balled into an impotent fist as she watched the battle rage off the shore of the island, her shimmering pale red tail flicking angrily in the water below. She hated not being able to do anything, not being able to help.
“You are not to get involved. They are not worthy of our assistance, Emma. They are pirates ,” her mother’s tone brokered no room for argument.
As if that had ever stopped her before.
“They are still people! We can’t just sit here as they die! They need our help.”
“To what end, Emma?” her father sighed. Ever the united wall, her parents. “So they can continue to pillage and plunder their way across the Seven Seas? Taking what’s not theirs, burning and killing anything and anyone that stands in their path?”
“They aren’t like that, he’s not like that. You know that. It’s not like he’s doing this for no reason, I mean if someone killed my love I would…”
“Enough. It’s not our fault the Captain’s misdeeds finally caught up to him,” her father’s voice rang with finality as he cut her off. “I’m serious, Emma. Stay away from that fight.”
“Sweetheart, it’s too dangerous,” the queen said in a softer tone, placing a calming hand on her husband’s arm. “We can’t risk your safety for some…pirate. You are a princess, and with that you must look to the good of our kingdom. And the kingdom can’t risk losing you. You’re too important.”
Emma’s mouth thinned stubbornly as she considered her options. As if she wasn’t acutely aware of what her kingdom demanded of its crown princess, she had felt that weight on her shoulders her entire life. But it’s not like she was a child any longer, she’d long been swimming the wild currents of the seas and could handle herself. At some point she was going to have to start deciding her own destiny, crown be damned.
Her mind was made up.
“Fine,” she lied, sighing in faux defeat. “You’re right, of course. I need to think of the kingdom.”
“It’s for the best, Emma,” her mother smiled, her relief obvious.
Emma returned the smile before floating over and kissing her father on the cheek. “I’ll go visit Ruby, I’m sure she could use some help in the shop,” she lied further. “I’ll see you at dinner.” Swimming away, she felt the pang of guilt deceiving her parents. She would make sure to stay far away from the battle as they wished, but she just needed to make sure he was ok. She just needed to see . The sound of cannon fire in the distance caused her heartbeat to tick up, and she started swimming faster.
Emma’s fingers twitched on the conch shell she held as she watched the destruction before her, the urge to call to him surging. Just to let him know she was there. The ship was beginning to sink, and she knew it wouldn’t be long now. She craned her neck to try and get a glimpse of him, when suddenly she saw his dark head scramble up behind the wheel. Without thinking, she raised the shell to her lips and blew, emitting a low but loud, steady sound. It took a second, but his head turned her way, eyes scanning the waves before meeting hers over the raging swells. She was about to wave when a cannonball exploded next to him, its fire and smoke sending his body hurtling into the sea.
Without a second thought, Emma dove.
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Everything was so quiet now, save the slow thump of Killian’s heart as he floated into the deep. His lungs screamed for air, but his body seemed to be in suspended animation, unable to move. He could only sink. His mind became hazy, eyes slowly blinking one last time at the sea surrounding him. A female form swam into his vision, hand stretched towards him; wild, inky curls floating like a halo about her and dark eyes searching his. Milah. With the last of his strength, he lifted his hand out to her.
Milah, I’m here. Come take me home.
She was almost close enough to touch when his heart gave its final stutter, and his last conscious thought was that her hair wasn’t brown, but blonde.
So strange.
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He was almost gone by the time she found him in the water.
She could hear his heartbeat slow down to nothing, and she stretched her hand out to him as she swam. His hand floated out towards her as well, but it was limp by the time she finally wrapped her fingers around him. His dark lashes were stark against his paling cheeks, the life leaving him and taking the rosy blush of his skin with it. She only had seconds to save him, and damning all the consequences, she pressed her lips to his.
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He wasn’t dead.
He was breathing.
He was still underwater.
And he was kissing someone.
Killian’s eyes flew open, arms pushing instinctively against the person in front of him. But he froze when he saw her, panic giving way to complete and utter shock.
She was a bloody mermaid.
His eyes traveled the length of her, coasting from her bare shoulders down to the tips of her tail fin and back up, mind desperately working to process what it was taking in. He realized his gaze must have lingered too long on her more feminine attributes when she promptly narrowed her bright green eyes, crossed her arms over her chest, and swatted him with her tail.
He couldn’t stop his smile.
A thousand questions formed on his tongue, and he was about to ask them when the mermaid suddenly spun around, pushing him behind her. She cast a hand out in front of them defensively, the other wrapped around his wrist, anchoring him to her. He tried to move around her, as he hardly needed protection, but she held fast. He couldn’t see much past the floating wall of her golden hair, and frustration burned through him when he reached for his sword only to find his scabbard empty.
Damn it all.
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Emma flung her hand out in the direction of the approaching sound, her magic surging in her veins as she waited to see what (or who) it was. Relief flooded her when Ruby swam into view, her dark hair and vibrant red tail as familiar to Emma as her own.
“What are you doing way out here?” Ruby called as she approached.
“Me? What are you doing here?” Emma tried to deflect lamely.
“I saw you hightail it out of the castle earlier and I--” Ruby trailed off as she swam up, eyes darting to the human floating next to Emma before going wide in incredulous shock. “Emma. Oh no. What have you done?”
“I don’t know, I panicked!” which was the truth, well mostly the truth. She had known exactly what she was doing when she captured his lips with her own, breathing life into him. She could still feel the warmth seeping back into his lips as their mouths meshed, the rough stubble of his chin against her skin.
What was more, she wanted to feel it all again.
Killian opened his mouth, attempting to interject, only to be greeted with silence. His hand flew to his throat, eyes wide with confusion. “The magic lets you breathe, but not speak. Unfortunately,” she answered his silent question. A frown bowed his pretty mouth. He didn’t seem to like that answer and Emma smiled.
“You can’t keep him, Emma,” Ruby drew her attention back. “But he also can’t leave here knowing about us.”
“Do you think I don’t know that? I just need a moment to think,” Emma’s tail flicked with agitation. Beside her, she felt the pirate tense. She turned to him and laid her hand on his forearm, hoping to assure him that it would be okay regardless. Did he think she was going to kill him after she just broke the laws of her kingdom to save him?
Glancing back at Ruby, she tried and failed to find a solution she liked. Ruby was staring her with a mixture of pity and exasperation, silently willing Emma to do what she knew she had to do. Because Ruby was right: he couldn’t stay.
“Just give us a minute, ok? I’ll catch up to you.”
Ruby’s eyes narrowed as she assessed her friend, then the Captain, before she finally gave a hesitant nod and swimming off in the direction of the castle.
“I’m sorry,” Emma murmured to him once they were alone. She suddenly felt very exposed, being alone with this virtual stranger in the now-quiet sea. Wrapping her arms around herself, she turned to face him fully, fixing a reassuring smile on her face. “I know this must all be very confusing. I’ll help you home now.”
The pirate considered her, head cocked slightly to the side, black hair floating in disarray about his pretty face. He nodded, but as she started to move off, his hand snaked gently around her upper arm, pulling her back. Their bodies bumped and brushed as the momentum of his tug pulled her into him, and sparks danced along Emma’s skin and fins, causing her eyes to widen. A slight smile tipped his lips, and his gaze fell to her mouth momentarily before sobering and looking back up into her eyes.
Why? he mouthed.
She hesitated a moment, understanding perfectly well what he was asking but wondering whether to give him the truth or a lie. But in the end, she didn’t want to lie to him. “Because I couldn’t let you die.”
She gave him no more.
And he accepted it.
Seconds ticked by as their bodies continued to gently sway together in the current, and Emma marveled at the feel of his two legs brushing along either side of her tail. But it was time to do what needed to be done, she had already risked too much letting him stay so long. She drew upon the power that simmered beneath her skin, focusing it into the tips of her fingers, causing them to start to glow with her magic. She lifted a hand to his cheek, cupping it gently and running her thumb along the shallow scar there. His hand curled over the flair of her hip, and she smiled when she felt his fingers plucking curiously at the space where skin became scale. He was so warm, as warm as a rock in the sun, and she wanted to curl herself around him.
But she had to let him go.
“It’s time to go,” she whispered as she gently brushed her glowing fingers across his forehead. His brows lowered in confusion before the understanding hit, and he opened his mouth as if to argue, voice or not. But it was too late, her magic took effect, and his eyelids drooped as the sleeping spell overtook him. Emma wrapped her arms around his slumbering form and began swimming quickly towards the island. The spell would cancel out the mermaid’s kiss, so she only had moments to get his head back above water. She made it to the shallow tide pools on the western edge of the island quick enough, pulling and dragging him through the low waters, her tail sinking and shifting in the soft sands. She finally managed to maneuver him far enough onto the beach to where she felt confident he wouldn’t slip back underwater, and she paused a moment to catch her breath.
It was always harder to breathe up here.
Looking down at him, she tried to figure out what it was about this man that called to her. What about him felt so…kindred. They had never even spoken until today.
But in the end, none of it really mattered, as he was an impossibility. Close as they may be at the moment, the reality was that they were worlds apart. And it just could never be. “Goodbye, Captain,” she whispered.
Easing herself back into the water, she looked at him a final time before disappearing beneath the surf once more.
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Sunlight danced behind his eyelids, bright shapes moving and melding as his mind drifted back towards consciousness. Lifting a hand, he scrubbed at his face and sat up, only to find himself half buried in sand in the shallow tide pools not far from his house.
What the bloody hell?
Standing up was a bit of a battle, his body protesting fiercely as he stretched and began to move. He did a brief catalogue of injuries, somewhat relieved to see nothing too dire. The gash on his ribs would need to be stitched up, but he could see to that later. First, he needed to see what was left from yesterday. To see if anyone else had survived the fight.
To see if it was just him.
It took him nearly an hour to hobble his way to the eastern side of the island, and what met him confirmed the worst of his fears. The shore was littered with debris of the wreckage, the makeshift port they had built for the Jolly Roger to make berth no more than broken planks crashing against the sand as the waves rolled in. The ship itself was gone, entombed now in a watery grave along with his crew.
Oh god. His crew.
Killian slumped into the sand, its warmth doing little to offset the chill rattling his bones. So many good men - good friends - lost. Tears burned his eyes as guilt settled heavy in his gut. These were the men who had stood by his side after Milah, who had followed him as he hunted for blood and revenge. As he chased ghosts and mirages, obsessed with the man who had ripped out Killian’s heart the day he had ripped out Milah’s.
What a fool he had been.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed as he sat there staring out at the sea, wind ruffling his hair and sadness aching his bones, but the sky began to change hue as the sun sank into the horizon. Resigned and exhausted, he walked along the shore back towards his house, the stars above winking to life as the night settled in around him. As he reached the tide pools, a shimmer of red caught his eye near the large rocks jutting from the shallow waters, and his heart jolted in his chest as recognition sparked.
A memory swirled, and his mind raced to piece the fractured bits together - just how had he survived when no one else did? There had been a cannon shot, that he remembers, an explosion by the wheel. Fire and smoke and pain and water and then…
Her.
Golden hair in the dark sea, a pale hand reaching out, beckoning him as he sank into the deep. Her cool lips pressed against his, breathing life back into him. And her shimmering tail brushing gently against his legs.
Wait. Tail.
A mermaid?
It couldn’t be. That wasn’t possible, they didn’t exist. Did they? He had seen his fair share of the extraordinary as he traversed the seas, but never something quite like that. Perhaps the explosion had left him more addled than he thought. Rubbing his forehead, Killian strained to remember more. There had been another one there too, she had said he couldn’t stay. And she had called the blonde one by her name...what had it been?
Emma.
Her name was Emma.
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“He’s in the tide pools again,” Ruby swirled up beside her.
“Who?” Emma said absently, her nose buried in a book as she floated through the Great Hall of the palace.
“Your pirate, of course.”
“Shhh!” Emma hissed, slamming the book closed and looking over her shoulder to make sure her parents were out of listening range. “He’s not my pirate, Ruby. And you need to stop mentioning him, you know what will happen if anyone finds out about what I did.”
Green eyes rolled. “Emma, you’re the princess . It’s not like your parents would banish you .”
“They might,” Emma grumbled, chewing her lip and hunching her shoulders. It had been a month since she’d given the Captain the mermaid’s kiss and saved his life. Every few nights he would return to the spot she’d left him, the shallow tide pools that were half his world, half hers. She would tuck herself behind one of the large rocks and watch him, wondering if he remembered her, or if he’d simply reasoned it all away as a dream.
She secretly hoped it was the former.
She needed to stop.
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“I know you’re out there.”
He knew he was probably mad, standing in ankle deep water, talking to the ocean. It had become somewhat of a ritual of late, coming here in the evening. He had spent his days keeping himself busy as to not dwell on his new-found solitude, rebuilding the dock and cleaning the beach, expanding his garden and crafting new water barrels. Luckily he’d been living on the island long enough to know he could sustain himself here well enough, but that didn’t stop the feeling of hopelessness from whispering in the dark recesses of his mind. The island was well off the beaten path for most travel routes, as he had specifically chosen, because well, pirate and all that. That was good and fine when he still had a ship. Now it just increased his chances of being trapped here, alone, forever.
Well, maybe not completely alone.
His blue eyes scanned the ocean’s surface again, searching for gold amidst the silver reflection of the moonlight. Something deep in his gut told him that it had not been a dream, that she was as real as he was. That she was out there. And whatever that was, that feeling beginning to take hold of him, it was giving him something he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time.
(Hope. It was hope.)
“Come back to me, Emma.”
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