The series may be over, but I’m still here...reading and writing fanfics. always open for CS prompts! follow my personal @elise-the-writer and find me on AO3 @ elisethewriter
While I've been using this blog for years, I realized that I never introduced myself, and since I just got some new followers, I thought I'd fix that.
Name: Elise
Main blog: @elise-the-writer
Link to my AO3, link to my fic masterlist here on tumblr
Open for prompts: Yes
Current (ouat) WIP: How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam, which I promise will be updated soon!
A little about me
I'm 22 and I recently graduated college with a double major in creative writing and French. I'm currently editing my first novel, although I've been writing since I was ten. My hobbies (outside of reading, writing, and OUAT) include watching hockey, playing board games, and hanging out with my dog.
My inbox is open, and I'm always willing to chat about CS things or anything else!
people on my dash are annoying again and i'm tired of being a bitch about it so let me just say - if you read my fics and don't leave a comment, you're fine. it's fine. I'm not mad, I don't think you ungrateful, or an asshole, or whatever other guilt-trippy bullshit people spout here day in and day out. I post my stuff in the hopes of it bringing others joy, too, and yes of course comments bring me joy in return, but I don't think anyone owes them to me. if it brings you joy and i never know, if you "only" leave kudos, if you only lurk, if you literally never interact with me for literally whatever reason, it's fine. i promise. i love you. i hope the words bring you joy without there being any hang-ups about it <3
"Does this fanfic writer have adequate enrichment to engage in writing behaviours?"
Fanfiction writers (Scriptor fictus) are intelligent animals who need plenty of enrichment as well as encouragement! If they're stuck in poor conditions (e.g. have studies, work, have to actually write to have something written) then they require the proper enrichment to engage in more healthy behaviours, like writing. Remember, due to poor breeding and socialisation, over half of all fanfic writers suffer from low self confidence and executive dysfunction so take care of them!
Give your fanfic writers proper care. Fanfiction writers are a life long commitment.
so much love for characters who are desperately unsure whether they’re a good person, a redeemable person, a person worth saving, but are absolutely certain that they’re a grade a hottie
Rewatching 2x14 and they’re in the bar and I know I should be focusing on their interaction but my eyes were drawn to the TV because hockey is on and now I’m just thinking about Tripping Over the Blue Line
Okay we all love when the morally gray villain first calls the girl he loves by her real name and not a nickname or surname, and we have that in captain swan anyway with him calling her ‘Emma’ when he’s worried or she’s in trouble but we also have the reserve; right before their kiss at the end of s3 Emma goes “I wanted to thank you, Killian.” And it pauses before she continues and you can see in his eyes like she just said my name, she’s called him hook all the time but now she’s calling him Killian and it is a big deal
Since lots of people are doing Whumptober and Kinktober and Fictober and other events, I’d just like to put it out there again that drabbles and ficlets and oneshots are stories in their own right.
Posting them as separate works makes them easier to find, easier to filter, easier to reread. Posting them in as separate works in a series allows readers to subscribe to the series and get notified of each new story you post, just like they’d be notified of each new chapter in a single fic.
Posting them as separate fics also lets readers know which tags and characters and ships are involved in each separate story so they can better decide which stories are for them and better filter out the ones that they won’t enjoy.
Plus, you can only kudos a single story once. Let them show you all of their love!
Short fics are still fics. Please consider posting them independently from each other. 🧡🖤
Plus people who want long fics will be disappointed to see a super long fic that turns out to be a bunch of little ones and people who want short fics won’t be able to find your short fics if you make them one big fakeroo!
If you want to be able to find a tumblr fic again, and that fic isn’t on AO3, you can still use AO3 to bookmark it.
If you tap on your username at the top of the page, choose My Bookmarks from the dropdown. At the top of your bookmarks, you can see a button that says Bookmark External Work.
When you click on that, you’ll get taken to a page where you can copy in the URL for the work, the name of the author, the author’s own summary and tags, and then add in your own notes and tags just like you’re able to do on an AO3 bookmark.
The work won’t be searchable on the general archive, but you’ll be able to find it again. And if you make your bookmark public instead of private, other people could find it by scrolling your bookmarks.
How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam - Chapter 12: True
Cover art by the lovely and talented @snowbellewells!!!
Story summary: After the Evil Queen kidnaps and curses her family and destroys her kingdom, Princess Emma is on the run. She boards a merchant vessel with her godmother Red, and they intend to travel to Arendelle to seek magical assistance. But when Emma discovers the dark truths aboard Captain Silver's ship, she must put a stop to his cruelty and rescue the Jones brothers from their enslavement. Emma has to find her own allies and face her fears in order to save her parents, her brother Leo, and her kingdom.
Read it on AO3 from the beginning here.
Taglist, message me or reply to a chapter if you want to be added: @kmomof4 @teamhook @tiganasummertree @snowbellewells
Read chapter 12 below the cut or on AO3.
Please reblog, comment here or on AO3, and share the love because I am truly pouring my heart into this fic (as demonstrated below).
To lead was to sacrifice.
That was something her mother had not only taught her but had attempted to prepare her for—to make her strong enough that she could do what was necessary, what others wouldn’t do, to put her people and the future of her kingdom above herself. Emma was never free to simply act as she wished; everything she did had consequences, each decision she made had an echo, reverberating far beyond her expectations.
The well-being of her people sat heavily upon her shoulders, and she could not forget that.
Robin had taken the news of the Black Knights and their quick demise well, and though a discussion was still necessary to determine their course of action, he had ordered they all sit for a meal and tend to the few wounds before considering their next step.
Emma had readily retrieved her salve and healing supplies only to stop herself, her eyes fixed on the figure she most sought as he sat some fifty feet away, the firelight staining his blood-covered cheek.
Her hands ached to help him, heal him, tend to the cut he only sustained in the aid of her beloved brother—but that was what she wanted to do, not what she needed to do. Not what was best. Allowing herself even one step closer to him was the selfish thing to do, and she could not bear to cling to such weakness when her mother had raised her better.
She left it to Red and banished herself from his view, finding bittersweet exile at the base of a tree beside the creek.
“Not hungry?” Leo plopped down beside her before she could respond or even react, shoving a bowl of stew into her grasp.
Emma pushed it back towards him. “No, I’m fine.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, tipping the bowl to his lips.
She tried to find comfort in his less-than-princely manners, his endearing slobbish behavior, but she’d felt hollow since her latest sacrifice (maybe it would always be this: each choice chipping away at what was left of her until she was just a shadow of herself, just a figurehead perfectly fit for their crown. Did that make her a better ruler or a worse one?).
“You should be judging me right now,” Leo added, choking down another bit of stew.
“Should I?”
He sighed, a lofty and pompous sound that reminded them both of their father. Leo set the bowl aside, either finished or no longer hungry. “Emma,” he drawled.
“Leo,” she replied, mimicking his tone.
“You know you can talk to me, right?”
She didn’t look at him. “About what?”
“About wh—Emma!”
“What?” she snapped, all her defenses rising at once, shielding her from everything she couldn’t stand to feel, couldn’t stand to know.
Leo hopped onto his feet, glaring down at her with his arms crossed rigidly in front of him (so like their mother). “I swear to the gods above, Emma, if you keep pretending like there’s nothing going on—”
“There’s nothing—”
“I’m going to say something I never thought I would,” he threatened, ignoring her pitiful attempt.
Emma pushed herself up to stand before him, folding her arms now too, though hers acted more like armor. “Oh yeah, and what’s that?”
“You’re being a coward, Emma.”
Fury barrelled into her, red and scalding and dangerous, knotting her hands into fists when they snapped to her sides. “Tread. Lightly.”
Leo did not waver. “No, I won’t. There’s been far too much of that around here.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about a certain someone and your inability to tell that someone how you feel.”
Icy resolve trickled down to her feet, sealing her where she stood. “I don’t see how that is any of your business.”
“Emma, this is absolutely ridiculous!” he blurted. “You’re both being cowards about this, and if you could just stop for a second see that, maybe—”
“Maybe what?” she demanded. “Maybe we can live happily ever after, like our parents? Haven’t you heard? That didn’t turn out so well for them.”
Leo’s eyes narrowed, his jaw setting firmly. “You’re proving my point,” he said. “You’re just scared, and I get that, I do, but you can’t keep doing this.”
“No, Leo. You don’t get it,” she replied. “You have no idea what I’m doing. What I’m giving up. But I don’t have a choice, because I have to rule, Leo! I have to put aside what I want and do what has to be done so that if we’re not successful, if we can’t save our parents, I can in good conscience take the throne.”
Leo’s lips twisted in disgust. “Don’t tell me this is about class.”
She recoiled, pain shooting through her as if he had struck her. “How could you possibly think—”
“Then what is it? Why do you have to give this up?”
“Because I refuse to curse him, too.” She looked away, pulling in a shaky breath. “Even if I pretend like we’re not currently on the run, even if I ignore that every second should be spent strategizing to get our parents back, even if I act like it doesn’t take every drop of energy I have just to keep myself upright and moving forward—I cannot be oblivious to the sacrifice that all of our allies have already made, the death sentences they’ve already signed themselves up for. I’m so tired of the fighting and the bloodshed and the death and the sacrifice, but none of that is about to go away, because this is my life now. This is my whole life. It’s the curse the Evil Queen gave me, and I know it doesn’t compare to your agony, but I’m carrying my own burden now, Leo, and it’s killing me, too. I’m losing myself, too.
“I have to learn how to be strong enough to do what’s right, and I’m trying to figure out how I can possibly do that when all I want to do is run to him and find comfort—but it doesn’t matter. It can’t be. I’m just…I’m just glad that…that at least I’m respecting the distance he’s put between us.”
Leo’s eyes shone, even in the darkness, and he took her hands in his. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Emma, I promise.”
She withdrew from his touch, wrapping her arms around herself instead. “Yes, it does. I know you can’t understand, but just trust me on this. Please.”
He remained where he was, resisting the urge to hug her fiercely. She wasn’t ready for him to push her any further. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t take matters into his own hands.
— —
With dawn came sorrow.
Though perhaps it had never left, only hidden by the darkness, pieces of it distorted to look incandescent in the moonlight.
Emma watched the last of his star dissolve into daylight, shivering when the burning cold spread across her chest. And at last she lay on her bedroll, wishing for all the impossible things that could bring her joy.
Half their camp had shifted their routines to become nocturnal, though many simply lost hours of sleep when sunlight prodded them awake. Emma was one such person, though on this day, she did not rise. Her limbs could not sustain her weight, nor had she the strength to stand. And the worries of her friends and allies had not gone unheard; she kept her eyes closed, her body still, and feigned sleep until the sun began its descent.
— —
It was supposed to be a scouting mission, a task he could claim that would busy his mind and give purpose to his body, but as soon as he’d volunteered, his brother had swooped in and disrupted his plans.
Killian trudged along the farthest edge of their perimeter and then just beyond, looking for signs of their enemy and blatantly ignoring Liam who followed closely behind.
The last of daylight was burning itself out, turning the world amber and radiant, but Killian was not in the mindset to appreciate such beauty, angry anticipation turning to bile in his throat as dread seeped into him.
“I fail to understand why you have yet to express your feelings,” Liam said abruptly, and though Killian had tried to prepare for such an assault, he still stumbled over the exposed root he should have avoided.
He caught himself, only having to pause a moment to reset his posture and composure before continuing, determined not to respond.
“Killian, this is absurd.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said curtly, proceeding with his task.
Liam scoffed, unimpressed. “Come now, usually you’re a much better liar than that.”
Killian froze, rage prickling along his spine. He opened his mouth to speak but quickly decided against it, instead resuming his path at twice the speed.
“Enough of this, brother. I know you wish for my silence but I have been silent too long. We must speak of this.”
“There is nothing to speak of,” Killian replied, his footsteps undeterred.
Liam laughed in disbelief and disappointment. “Of course there is,” he said. “Now could you just stop for a second and explain to me why you refuse to acknowledge this?”
Killian’s laugh was bitter. “Why, you ask. As if you don’t know as well as I that this can never happen.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Like hell you don’t.”
Liam caught his arm, forcing him to stop his progress. “The whole world isn’t privy to your darkest thoughts, Killian. Don’t act like I understand them or their logic, because I never have before. Tell me what you bloody mean,” he demanded. Killian snatched his arm away, turning his back on his brother. “Why can’t you be with her?” Liam added, desperate to understand.
“You spend your days laughing at my so called absurdity with the Lady Red. Has the entertainment value run dry from this game of yours? Is it no longer diverting enough for you?”
“Enough!” Liam cried. “Why do you insist this can never happen? Why can’t you be with her?”
Killian spun to face his brother now, anguish and anger erupting from him in bitter, mangled words. “Because she’s the bloody princess! And I am nothing!”
Liam fell silent, staring open-mouthed at his younger brother and all the pain he carried.
Killian’s chest heaved, his teeth grinding together, but all the anger he’d used to fortify himself crumbled when he was compelled to reveal the truth. “She’s the princess, and I am nothing,” he repeated, calmer now, quiet misery and resolve.
“That’s not true,” Liam protested weakly.
“I’m nothing—a former slave, not even a sailor, a swordsman, a knight. I have nothing I can offer her, nothing I can give that would make me worthy. I will never be enough for her, whether she has a kingdom or not. My only value to her is the blade I carry, the protection I can offer her and her brother. This, at least, I can offer.”
“That’s not true,” Liam insisted, crossing the space to his brother so he could grasp his upper arms, hold him in place, force him to understand that he couldn’t be more wrong. “You are not nothing. You have never been nothing. You are a good man, Killian. You don’t need flashy talents or titles to prove that. And yes, you are a valuable swordsman, that is true. But you must see that there is more that makes you worthy, Killian. She knows it, it’s time for you to learn that, as well.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Killian muttered, pulling away from his grasp, drifting into the darkness.
“Of course it matters,” Liam replied, though he made no attempt to follow his brother as he withdrew to stare at the woods beyond.
“It can never be,” Killian said, his eyes tracing the silhouettes of the trees.
“Well that’s just ridiculous,” a voice called.
The Jones brothers started, wheeling around to find their prince looking displeased, clearly having just returned from his self-inflicted exile.
“Your Highness,” Liam scrambled to greet him properly.
“I thought we were past this,” Leo huffed. “Please, call me Leo.”
“That’s not—”
Leo’s sharp look cut off the elder Jones. “Moving on,” he said, clearing his throat and returning his attention to Killian. “You are being ridiculous.”
Killian floundered. “Your Hi—er, Leo, I must apologize for whatever you have heard. I assure you that I am cognizant of my place and would never—”
Leo let out a groan, effectively silencing the absurdity. “Cut it out,” he whined.
“Allow me to apologize—” Liam attempted, but he was as unsuccessful as his brother.
“For what? For finally confronting your brother about what we’ve all been wondering forever?”
Liam blinked in shock, half a smile curling his lips though he was too stunned to fully process this particular development.
Leo shook his head, approaching Killian with a determination that echoed his sister’s. “If you won’t listen to your brother, then listen to me. I’ll pull rank if I have to,” he began, but his joke fell flat as Killian had yet to breathe. “There is absolutely nothing you need to apologize for. Unless you want to apologize for taking so long, but I’ll forgive you for that.
“From the moment I saw the two of you together, I knew. You’re not exactly the best at not hovering, and she can’t stand to let her eyes stray from you for more than twenty seconds. So I guess I would let you apologize for taking so long, but what I won’t do is let you apologize for loving my sister.”
“But I have no right to love your sister.”
For a second, Killian was certain the prince was going to smack him. “What I wouldn’t give for one of my mother’s speeches right now,” Leo grumbled, mostly to himself. “First of all, Killian, that is not true. Secondly, love is not something that can or should be controlled, and it certainly isn’t something anyone does or doesn’t have a ‘right’ to feel.
“You are so blinded by your fear and your doubt that you can’t even see what’s right in front of you. And both of you are too damn stubborn—but I’m tired of it. Take a breath and stop being a coward and an idiot, please, because I have always wanted a brother, and you’re just about the best one I could imagine having.”
Killian could not speak, move, or do anything but stare at him, unwilling or unable to comprehend his words.
“Bravo, lad,” Liam said, patting Leo on the back. “Now, if only we could find a room to lock them in together, then perhaps we would finally make some progress.”
Leo grinned, suddenly considering the benefits of having a second brother. He exchanged a look with his new ally, then turned in the direction of camp. “Now, are you coming, or do you require a formal invitation?”
— —
He’d hoped his brash words would spur Killian on, but all it did was make him…thoughtful. He’d been slow to return, trailing behind even his brother, and when he found the others gathered around the fire for their meal, he’d planted himself on the opposite side from Emma, leaning against a tree trunk and staring off into the distance.
Leo glanced at his sister beside him, but her gaze was too fixed on the ground to be natural. He shook his head at the pair—more suited for each other than either of them realized—and he made up his mind.
It only took him a few minutes to set it all in motion, one quick excuse to Emma, a few words exchanged with an ally, and then he formed a tiny lie that his sister would not see through, a request to follow him so they could have space to talk.
Leo brought her to a stop in an adequate clearing, making note of the exact position and perfect distance from their camp. And then he left, promising to return in a moment. How she fell for that classic trick, he would never understand.
Emma huffed, nudging a few twigs with her foot as she waited impatiently for him to come back. Her annoyance was a petty thing, stemming from his casual greeting upon his return to camp for the night, as if she hadn’t stood waiting in their spot and worrying that something had happened when he didn’t appear as quickly as he had before.
She spun when she heard him approach, only to find her brother towing an unsuspecting Killian behind him.
“Leo?”
“Bloody hell, mate, what are—”
Killian’s words caught in his throat when his eyes landed on Emma, but Leo’s grip didn’t lessen as he brought him to stand in front of his sister.
“What are you doing?” Emma demanded, crossing her arms.
Leo released his hold on Killian, shooting her a smile. “Well, since I have no room to lock you two into, this will have to do.”
“What?” Killian asked, confusion mingling with his irritation.
“You two are gonna stay here, alone, until you talk about everything.”
“We’re what?”
“Mate, you can’t possibly—”
Leo raised a hand, and they both fell silent. “Nope. This isn’t just about the two of you anymore. Your yearning looks are getting distracting. So now shut up, stay here, and talk!” he ordered firmly. For good measure, he pushed Emma a bit closer to Killian, and then he scurried away, certainly far too proud of himself.
Neither spoke nor made any move until the sound of Leo’s footsteps faded into silence.
“I’m so sorry,” Emma said, “I cannot believe him.”
“No, Swan, there’s no need to apologize,” Killian insisted.
They both shifted uncomfortably, glancing away and into the darkness. A few minutes passed with them unable to so much as look at each other, and then Emma sighed.
“As irritating as my brother is, perhaps he’s right,” she said. “And I suspect that if we go back now, he’s just going to drag us right back out here,” she mumbled, risking a glance at Killian’s face.
“He or my brother will, aye,” Killian replied somewhat bitterly.
“So maybe we should…talk?”
Killian’s expression darkened, his jaw ticking. “You needn’t say anything you don’t wish to,” he said, “and your brother or mine certainly shouldn’t be forcing you.”
She sighed, turning to find a seat on a fallen log a few feet away. “But maybe we should talk. If you want to,” she added quickly.
“Swan…”
“Or I can talk. Or you can walk away, and we can just keep doing whatever it is we’re doing,” she said, her ire rising unjustly. “But I—” A jagged breath nearly choked her. “I’m not sure how much longer I can stand this, Killian.”
His shoulders sagged before he could hide his pain, a mask of resolve settling over his moonlit features. “If my presence distresses you, Captain, I will break my promise and we can part ways.”
Emma shot up, grabbing his hand before she could prevent herself. “No, gods. That’s not what I want. Not even close.”
His eyes searched hers. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice no louder than a whisper. Their hands were still joined, radiating warmth where they touched.
“I want…” she hesitated, losing herself in his gaze. “I want you to be happy.”
“Swan,” he breathed, desperate and breaking.
“I want you to be safe, I want you to be cared for. I want you to be protected. I want you to never have to face a Black Knight again, but also…I never want to face a Black Knight again without you by my side. I want you to do whatever makes you happy. I want you to do whatever is best for you—and—and Killian, I am absolutely terrified that I’m not what’s best for you.” Tears spilled onto her cheeks, but she made no move to brush them away. “I don’t know if I can give you the happiness I want you to have, the happiness you deserve to have, and I know I can carry on in this war if you aren’t by my side, but even the thought of facing the next sunrise without you there—”
“Emma,” Killian cried, taking her other hand in his. “Emma, please.”
She wished she could take back her tears. Her eyes squeezed shut. “You can go. I can let you go, I swear. I am strong enough, I promise.”
“But I’m not.”
She blinked away some droplets, inspecting his face for what she hoped to see and what she hoped she wouldn’t. “What?”
He shook his head at himself or his thoughts, dropping onto his knees in front of her. He could do nothing else. “I am so sorry, Your Highness. I have tried to keep my distance, I know I’m not—that I could never be—what you deserve, but I’m not strong enough to let you go. I promised weeks ago that I would never leave your side, but it was not the promise it should have been. I have not followed you solely because you are my captain, my princess, or because you will one day be my queen.
“I thank the gods every day that you saved my brother and myself from our fate. I have watched you face great evil, I have stood helplessly by as you have buried your sorrow and bravely, regally led us onward. Your cleverness, your tenacity, your abilities with a blade—I cannot count the ways you have impressed me, challenged me, brought hope back to me. It is for all of these reasons but also regardless of them that I love you.
“So while you are my princess and my captain, and while you do have my loyalty, my allegiance, and my sword, you also have me. My heart is yours, my darling Emma, my Swan Queen. I am yours for as long as you will have me.”
Emma fell to her knees, unable to stand above him a second longer. “Killian,” she murmured, letting go of his hands only so she could hold his face. “I love you.”
He reached up, his fingers tentative yet imploring at her wrist. “How?”
“What do you mean how?”
“You’re a princess, Swan, and I am nothing.”
She shook her head. “No, Killian. You are absolutely everything. Now please, just—just kiss me.”
Warmth burst at his touch, at the caress of his mouth against hers, and the world fluttered away into nothing, leaving only them and their lips and their embrace. Her hands moved from his cheeks to bury in his hair, to tease at the nape of his neck, but they were no longer just hands, they were anchors or tethers binding them and their breath and their life—because they weren’t separate, not anymore, not when their hearts beat in tandem and their lips moved together as if they’d always done that, and they were linked, their lives entwined into one perfectly woven thread that was stronger than any enemy they’d ever face.
They lost themselves in the feeling of truth, in the wonder and beauty of knowing and being known, and when they parted to catch their breath, their arms moved to hold each other close, sealing their promise in the embrace of what could only be True Love.
How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam - Chapter 12: True
Cover art by the lovely and talented @snowbellewells!!!
Story summary: After the Evil Queen kidnaps and curses her family and destroys her kingdom, Princess Emma is on the run. She boards a merchant vessel with her godmother Red, and they intend to travel to Arendelle to seek magical assistance. But when Emma discovers the dark truths aboard Captain Silver's ship, she must put a stop to his cruelty and rescue the Jones brothers from their enslavement. Emma has to find her own allies and face her fears in order to save her parents, her brother Leo, and her kingdom.
Read it on AO3 from the beginning here.
Taglist, message me or reply to a chapter if you want to be added: @kmomof4 @teamhook @tiganasummertree @snowbellewells
Read chapter 12 below the cut or on AO3.
Please reblog, comment here or on AO3, and share the love because I am truly pouring my heart into this fic (as demonstrated below).
To lead was to sacrifice.
That was something her mother had not only taught her but had attempted to prepare her for—to make her strong enough that she could do what was necessary, what others wouldn’t do, to put her people and the future of her kingdom above herself. Emma was never free to simply act as she wished; everything she did had consequences, each decision she made had an echo, reverberating far beyond her expectations.
The well-being of her people sat heavily upon her shoulders, and she could not forget that.
Robin had taken the news of the Black Knights and their quick demise well, and though a discussion was still necessary to determine their course of action, he had ordered they all sit for a meal and tend to the few wounds before considering their next step.
Emma had readily retrieved her salve and healing supplies only to stop herself, her eyes fixed on the figure she most sought as he sat some fifty feet away, the firelight staining his blood-covered cheek.
Her hands ached to help him, heal him, tend to the cut he only sustained in the aid of her beloved brother—but that was what she wanted to do, not what she needed to do. Not what was best. Allowing herself even one step closer to him was the selfish thing to do, and she could not bear to cling to such weakness when her mother had raised her better.
She left it to Red and banished herself from his view, finding bittersweet exile at the base of a tree beside the creek.
“Not hungry?” Leo plopped down beside her before she could respond or even react, shoving a bowl of stew into her grasp.
Emma pushed it back towards him. “No, I’m fine.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, tipping the bowl to his lips.
She tried to find comfort in his less-than-princely manners, his endearing slobbish behavior, but she’d felt hollow since her latest sacrifice (maybe it would always be this: each choice chipping away at what was left of her until she was just a shadow of herself, just a figurehead perfectly fit for their crown. Did that make her a better ruler or a worse one?).
“You should be judging me right now,” Leo added, choking down another bit of stew.
“Should I?”
He sighed, a lofty and pompous sound that reminded them both of their father. Leo set the bowl aside, either finished or no longer hungry. “Emma,” he drawled.
“Leo,” she replied, mimicking his tone.
“You know you can talk to me, right?”
She didn’t look at him. “About what?”
“About wh—Emma!”
“What?” she snapped, all her defenses rising at once, shielding her from everything she couldn’t stand to feel, couldn’t stand to know.
Leo hopped onto his feet, glaring down at her with his arms crossed rigidly in front of him (so like their mother). “I swear to the gods above, Emma, if you keep pretending like there’s nothing going on—”
“There’s nothing—”
“I’m going to say something I never thought I would,” he threatened, ignoring her pitiful attempt.
Emma pushed herself up to stand before him, folding her arms now too, though hers acted more like armor. “Oh yeah, and what’s that?”
“You’re being a coward, Emma.”
Fury barrelled into her, red and scalding and dangerous, knotting her hands into fists when they snapped to her sides. “Tread. Lightly.”
Leo did not waver. “No, I won’t. There’s been far too much of that around here.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about a certain someone and your inability to tell that someone how you feel.”
Icy resolve trickled down to her feet, sealing her where she stood. “I don’t see how that is any of your business.”
“Emma, this is absolutely ridiculous!” he blurted. “You’re both being cowards about this, and if you could just stop for a second see that, maybe—”
“Maybe what?” she demanded. “Maybe we can live happily ever after, like our parents? Haven’t you heard? That didn’t turn out so well for them.”
Leo’s eyes narrowed, his jaw setting firmly. “You’re proving my point,” he said. “You’re just scared, and I get that, I do, but you can’t keep doing this.”
“No, Leo. You don’t get it,” she replied. “You have no idea what I’m doing. What I’m giving up. But I don’t have a choice, because I have to rule, Leo! I have to put aside what I want and do what has to be done so that if we’re not successful, if we can’t save our parents, I can in good conscience take the throne.”
Leo’s lips twisted in disgust. “Don’t tell me this is about class.”
She recoiled, pain shooting through her as if he had struck her. “How could you possibly think—”
“Then what is it? Why do you have to give this up?”
“Because I refuse to curse him, too.” She looked away, pulling in a shaky breath. “Even if I pretend like we’re not currently on the run, even if I ignore that every second should be spent strategizing to get our parents back, even if I act like it doesn’t take every drop of energy I have just to keep myself upright and moving forward—I cannot be oblivious to the sacrifice that all of our allies have already made, the death sentences they’ve already signed themselves up for. I’m so tired of the fighting and the bloodshed and the death and the sacrifice, but none of that is about to go away, because this is my life now. This is my whole life. It’s the curse the Evil Queen gave me, and I know it doesn’t compare to your agony, but I’m carrying my own burden now, Leo, and it’s killing me, too. I’m losing myself, too.
“I have to learn how to be strong enough to do what’s right, and I’m trying to figure out how I can possibly do that when all I want to do is run to him and find comfort—but it doesn’t matter. It can’t be. I’m just…I’m just glad that…that at least I’m respecting the distance he’s put between us.”
Leo’s eyes shone, even in the darkness, and he took her hands in his. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Emma, I promise.”
She withdrew from his touch, wrapping her arms around herself instead. “Yes, it does. I know you can’t understand, but just trust me on this. Please.”
He remained where he was, resisting the urge to hug her fiercely. She wasn’t ready for him to push her any further. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t take matters into his own hands.
— —
With dawn came sorrow.
Though perhaps it had never left, only hidden by the darkness, pieces of it distorted to look incandescent in the moonlight.
Emma watched the last of his star dissolve into daylight, shivering when the burning cold spread across her chest. And at last she lay on her bedroll, wishing for all the impossible things that could bring her joy.
Half their camp had shifted their routines to become nocturnal, though many simply lost hours of sleep when sunlight prodded them awake. Emma was one such person, though on this day, she did not rise. Her limbs could not sustain her weight, nor had she the strength to stand. And the worries of her friends and allies had not gone unheard; she kept her eyes closed, her body still, and feigned sleep until the sun began its descent.
— —
It was supposed to be a scouting mission, a task he could claim that would busy his mind and give purpose to his body, but as soon as he’d volunteered, his brother had swooped in and disrupted his plans.
Killian trudged along the farthest edge of their perimeter and then just beyond, looking for signs of their enemy and blatantly ignoring Liam who followed closely behind.
The last of daylight was burning itself out, turning the world amber and radiant, but Killian was not in the mindset to appreciate such beauty, angry anticipation turning to bile in his throat as dread seeped into him.
“I fail to understand why you have yet to express your feelings,” Liam said abruptly, and though Killian had tried to prepare for such an assault, he still stumbled over the exposed root he should have avoided.
He caught himself, only having to pause a moment to reset his posture and composure before continuing, determined not to respond.
“Killian, this is absurd.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said curtly, proceeding with his task.
Liam scoffed, unimpressed. “Come now, usually you’re a much better liar than that.”
Killian froze, rage prickling along his spine. He opened his mouth to speak but quickly decided against it, instead resuming his path at twice the speed.
“Enough of this, brother. I know you wish for my silence but I have been silent too long. We must speak of this.”
“There is nothing to speak of,” Killian replied, his footsteps undeterred.
Liam laughed in disbelief and disappointment. “Of course there is,” he said. “Now could you just stop for a second and explain to me why you refuse to acknowledge this?”
Killian’s laugh was bitter. “Why, you ask. As if you don’t know as well as I that this can never happen.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Like hell you don’t.”
Liam caught his arm, forcing him to stop his progress. “The whole world isn’t privy to your darkest thoughts, Killian. Don’t act like I understand them or their logic, because I never have before. Tell me what you bloody mean,” he demanded. Killian snatched his arm away, turning his back on his brother. “Why can’t you be with her?” Liam added, desperate to understand.
“You spend your days laughing at my so called absurdity with the Lady Red. Has the entertainment value run dry from this game of yours? Is it no longer diverting enough for you?”
“Enough!” Liam cried. “Why do you insist this can never happen? Why can’t you be with her?”
Killian spun to face his brother now, anguish and anger erupting from him in bitter, mangled words. “Because she’s the bloody princess! And I am nothing!”
Liam fell silent, staring open-mouthed at his younger brother and all the pain he carried.
Killian’s chest heaved, his teeth grinding together, but all the anger he’d used to fortify himself crumbled when he was compelled to reveal the truth. “She’s the princess, and I am nothing,” he repeated, calmer now, quiet misery and resolve.
“That’s not true,” Liam protested weakly.
“I’m nothing—a former slave, not even a sailor, a swordsman, a knight. I have nothing I can offer her, nothing I can give that would make me worthy. I will never be enough for her, whether she has a kingdom or not. My only value to her is the blade I carry, the protection I can offer her and her brother. This, at least, I can offer.”
“That’s not true,” Liam insisted, crossing the space to his brother so he could grasp his upper arms, hold him in place, force him to understand that he couldn’t be more wrong. “You are not nothing. You have never been nothing. You are a good man, Killian. You don’t need flashy talents or titles to prove that. And yes, you are a valuable swordsman, that is true. But you must see that there is more that makes you worthy, Killian. She knows it, it’s time for you to learn that, as well.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Killian muttered, pulling away from his grasp, drifting into the darkness.
“Of course it matters,” Liam replied, though he made no attempt to follow his brother as he withdrew to stare at the woods beyond.
“It can never be,” Killian said, his eyes tracing the silhouettes of the trees.
“Well that’s just ridiculous,” a voice called.
The Jones brothers started, wheeling around to find their prince looking displeased, clearly having just returned from his self-inflicted exile.
“Your Highness,” Liam scrambled to greet him properly.
“I thought we were past this,” Leo huffed. “Please, call me Leo.”
“That’s not—”
Leo’s sharp look cut off the elder Jones. “Moving on,” he said, clearing his throat and returning his attention to Killian. “You are being ridiculous.”
Killian floundered. “Your Hi—er, Leo, I must apologize for whatever you have heard. I assure you that I am cognizant of my place and would never—”
Leo let out a groan, effectively silencing the absurdity. “Cut it out,” he whined.
“Allow me to apologize—” Liam attempted, but he was as unsuccessful as his brother.
“For what? For finally confronting your brother about what we’ve all been wondering forever?”
Liam blinked in shock, half a smile curling his lips though he was too stunned to fully process this particular development.
Leo shook his head, approaching Killian with a determination that echoed his sister’s. “If you won’t listen to your brother, then listen to me. I’ll pull rank if I have to,” he began, but his joke fell flat as Killian had yet to breathe. “There is absolutely nothing you need to apologize for. Unless you want to apologize for taking so long, but I’ll forgive you for that.
“From the moment I saw the two of you together, I knew. You’re not exactly the best at not hovering, and she can’t stand to let her eyes stray from you for more than twenty seconds. So I guess I would let you apologize for taking so long, but what I won’t do is let you apologize for loving my sister.”
“But I have no right to love your sister.”
For a second, Killian was certain the prince was going to smack him. “What I wouldn’t give for one of my mother’s speeches right now,” Leo grumbled, mostly to himself. “First of all, Killian, that is not true. Secondly, love is not something that can or should be controlled, and it certainly isn’t something anyone does or doesn’t have a ‘right’ to feel.
“You are so blinded by your fear and your doubt that you can’t even see what’s right in front of you. And both of you are too damn stubborn—but I’m tired of it. Take a breath and stop being a coward and an idiot, please, because I have always wanted a brother, and you’re just about the best one I could imagine having.”
Killian could not speak, move, or do anything but stare at him, unwilling or unable to comprehend his words.
“Bravo, lad,” Liam said, patting Leo on the back. “Now, if only we could find a room to lock them in together, then perhaps we would finally make some progress.”
Leo grinned, suddenly considering the benefits of having a second brother. He exchanged a look with his new ally, then turned in the direction of camp. “Now, are you coming, or do you require a formal invitation?”
— —
He’d hoped his brash words would spur Killian on, but all it did was make him…thoughtful. He’d been slow to return, trailing behind even his brother, and when he found the others gathered around the fire for their meal, he’d planted himself on the opposite side from Emma, leaning against a tree trunk and staring off into the distance.
Leo glanced at his sister beside him, but her gaze was too fixed on the ground to be natural. He shook his head at the pair—more suited for each other than either of them realized—and he made up his mind.
It only took him a few minutes to set it all in motion, one quick excuse to Emma, a few words exchanged with an ally, and then he formed a tiny lie that his sister would not see through, a request to follow him so they could have space to talk.
Leo brought her to a stop in an adequate clearing, making note of the exact position and perfect distance from their camp. And then he left, promising to return in a moment. How she fell for that classic trick, he would never understand.
Emma huffed, nudging a few twigs with her foot as she waited impatiently for him to come back. Her annoyance was a petty thing, stemming from his casual greeting upon his return to camp for the night, as if she hadn’t stood waiting in their spot and worrying that something had happened when he didn’t appear as quickly as he had before.
She spun when she heard him approach, only to find her brother towing an unsuspecting Killian behind him.
“Leo?”
“Bloody hell, mate, what are—”
Killian’s words caught in his throat when his eyes landed on Emma, but Leo’s grip didn’t lessen as he brought him to stand in front of his sister.
“What are you doing?” Emma demanded, crossing her arms.
Leo released his hold on Killian, shooting her a smile. “Well, since I have no room to lock you two into, this will have to do.”
“What?” Killian asked, confusion mingling with his irritation.
“You two are gonna stay here, alone, until you talk about everything.”
“We’re what?”
“Mate, you can’t possibly—”
Leo raised a hand, and they both fell silent. “Nope. This isn’t just about the two of you anymore. Your yearning looks are getting distracting. So now shut up, stay here, and talk!” he ordered firmly. For good measure, he pushed Emma a bit closer to Killian, and then he scurried away, certainly far too proud of himself.
Neither spoke nor made any move until the sound of Leo’s footsteps faded into silence.
“I’m so sorry,” Emma said, “I cannot believe him.”
“No, Swan, there’s no need to apologize,” Killian insisted.
They both shifted uncomfortably, glancing away and into the darkness. A few minutes passed with them unable to so much as look at each other, and then Emma sighed.
“As irritating as my brother is, perhaps he’s right,” she said. “And I suspect that if we go back now, he’s just going to drag us right back out here,” she mumbled, risking a glance at Killian’s face.
“He or my brother will, aye,” Killian replied somewhat bitterly.
“So maybe we should…talk?”
Killian’s expression darkened, his jaw ticking. “You needn’t say anything you don’t wish to,” he said, “and your brother or mine certainly shouldn’t be forcing you.”
She sighed, turning to find a seat on a fallen log a few feet away. “But maybe we should talk. If you want to,” she added quickly.
“Swan…”
“Or I can talk. Or you can walk away, and we can just keep doing whatever it is we’re doing,” she said, her ire rising unjustly. “But I—” A jagged breath nearly choked her. “I’m not sure how much longer I can stand this, Killian.”
His shoulders sagged before he could hide his pain, a mask of resolve settling over his moonlit features. “If my presence distresses you, Captain, I will break my promise and we can part ways.”
Emma shot up, grabbing his hand before she could prevent herself. “No, gods. That’s not what I want. Not even close.”
His eyes searched hers. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice no louder than a whisper. Their hands were still joined, radiating warmth where they touched.
“I want…” she hesitated, losing herself in his gaze. “I want you to be happy.”
“Swan,” he breathed, desperate and breaking.
“I want you to be safe, I want you to be cared for. I want you to be protected. I want you to never have to face a Black Knight again, but also…I never want to face a Black Knight again without you by my side. I want you to do whatever makes you happy. I want you to do whatever is best for you—and—and Killian, I am absolutely terrified that I’m not what’s best for you.” Tears spilled onto her cheeks, but she made no move to brush them away. “I don’t know if I can give you the happiness I want you to have, the happiness you deserve to have, and I know I can carry on in this war if you aren’t by my side, but even the thought of facing the next sunrise without you there—”
“Emma,” Killian cried, taking her other hand in his. “Emma, please.”
She wished she could take back her tears. Her eyes squeezed shut. “You can go. I can let you go, I swear. I am strong enough, I promise.”
“But I’m not.”
She blinked away some droplets, inspecting his face for what she hoped to see and what she hoped she wouldn’t. “What?”
He shook his head at himself or his thoughts, dropping onto his knees in front of her. He could do nothing else. “I am so sorry, Your Highness. I have tried to keep my distance, I know I’m not—that I could never be—what you deserve, but I’m not strong enough to let you go. I promised weeks ago that I would never leave your side, but it was not the promise it should have been. I have not followed you solely because you are my captain, my princess, or because you will one day be my queen.
“I thank the gods every day that you saved my brother and myself from our fate. I have watched you face great evil, I have stood helplessly by as you have buried your sorrow and bravely, regally led us onward. Your cleverness, your tenacity, your abilities with a blade—I cannot count the ways you have impressed me, challenged me, brought hope back to me. It is for all of these reasons but also regardless of them that I love you.
“So while you are my princess and my captain, and while you do have my loyalty, my allegiance, and my sword, you also have me. My heart is yours, my darling Emma, my Swan Queen. I am yours for as long as you will have me.”
Emma fell to her knees, unable to stand above him a second longer. “Killian,” she murmured, letting go of his hands only so she could hold his face. “I love you.”
He reached up, his fingers tentative yet imploring at her wrist. “How?”
“What do you mean how?”
“You’re a princess, Swan, and I am nothing.”
She shook her head. “No, Killian. You are absolutely everything. Now please, just—just kiss me.”
Warmth burst at his touch, at the caress of his mouth against hers, and the world fluttered away into nothing, leaving only them and their lips and their embrace. Her hands moved from his cheeks to bury in his hair, to tease at the nape of his neck, but they were no longer just hands, they were anchors or tethers binding them and their breath and their life—because they weren’t separate, not anymore, not when their hearts beat in tandem and their lips moved together as if they’d always done that, and they were linked, their lives entwined into one perfectly woven thread that was stronger than any enemy they’d ever face.
They lost themselves in the feeling of truth, in the wonder and beauty of knowing and being known, and when they parted to catch their breath, their arms moved to hold each other close, sealing their promise in the embrace of what could only be True Love.
hey so if anyone wants the next chapter of How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam posted tonight, I heard a rumor it was good to go and that could happen. possibly. anything is possible if you just believe
