So it was the winter break off uni, and I started an internship at a textile company. Lots of experience and newfound independence! So here’s a little aesthetic-y list for the month:
large winter coats and long leather boots
hearty soup and rye bread
waiting on train platforms
seagulls and chips by the harbour
silky, floral fabrics
oversized woollen scarves
hot chocolate in a takeaway coffee cup
flipping through fabric swatches
send me a month & I'll tell you my associations of it in 2016
Sooooo @claraoswan, it’s time to give you your Captain Cobra Swan Secret Santa gift! It was a lot of fun talking to you (sorry for not sending as many messages as I should’ve - was a pretty questionable secret santa all around, unfortunately), and I hope you enjoy this fic I whipped up for you. I enjoyed writing it, and I’m even considering writing a follow up... Anywho, Happy Holidays (I really hope your holiday has been good!) and Merry Captain Cobra Swan Christmas!
Henry could hear the commotion coming from the crew cabin even before he was unceremoniously shoved out of the captain’s quarter’s, the rustling of Emma’s dress the only sound following him before the wood door slammed shut at his back. He couldn’t help rolling his eyes at the absurdity of it all, pocketing the item Emma had pressed into his hand with a wink and a cheeky grin on the inside of his suit jacket before shoving his hands in the pockets on the outside. He casually crossed the hall towards where all the ruckus was erupting from.
“Don’t you dare toy with me, Killian Jones.”
Henry frowned in confusion as he stepped into the cabin, not seeing his grandmother even if her very determined voice had been reprimanding the man casually leaning against the wall across the room, the wrist of his hooked hand resting against the hilt of his sword.
“I assure you, your majesty, I am doing nothing of the sort.” Killian was looking down into the open hatch that led to the cargo hold. He glanced up briefly towards Henry as the younger man continued to move towards him. “Hello, lad.”
“Hey…” Henry stopped beside Killian and leaned over to peer down the hole himself. “What’s grandma doing?”
When he looked up at Killian, the man was smiling in that indulgent way of his. “Attempting to make a liar of me.”
An indignant huff came from below. “I am doing nothing of the sort!” A pale white hand reached up out of the hold and Killian dutifully pushed off the wall and grabbed it, helping Snow hoist herself up so she was standing toe to toe with him. She brushed at the wrinkles in her dress and then looked up at the pirate with a critical eye. “I’m just double checking.”
She turned away and started breezing through the cabin, eyes scanning every bunk as she passed.
“More like quadruple checking at this point.” Another eye roll followed Killian’s words before he turned his attention to Henry again. He jerked his head in Snow’s direction. “She’s on the hunt for smuggled contraband…”
“I made myself quite clear, Jones.” That reprimanding tone was back.
Killian relaxed back against the wall once more. “Your words and intentions positively crystalline…”
“This day is going to be perfect. Everything just right so it goes off without a hitch.” Snow rummaged around on the makeshift table that had been set up beside the long mirror, also a hasty addition to the room. “In fact, the only hitching going on will be between you and Emma, and that’s not for another couple of hours. Plenty of time for you to do what you do best.” She turned back to the pair with a knowing looking directed at Killian. “Be a pirate.”
Henry leaned in closer to Killian, still looking towards his grandmother. “She’s looking for rum?”
“She’s looking for rum.” Killian stated, waving his good hand around the cabin to indicate the mess Snow had made digging through every nook and cranny. “Even though she bloody took all of it weeks ago.” He pushed off the wall and made his way over to Snow, gazing down at her with a looking caught somewhere between exasperation and playful. “Which was not very good form.”
“Good form is being a nice sober sailor for your wedding day.” Snow nodded determinedly, before reaching up to fiddle with the buttons of his white shirt.
“I assure you, no amount of rum would dull my appreciation of this day.” From where Henry was standing, he could see the look in Killian’s eyes in the reflection in the mirror. It was the same fierce devotion he’d seen the man have towards his mom since the moment he’d properly met the guy.
Snow’s ‘mom of the bride’ demeanor slipped for a moment. She stopped buttoning up Killian’s shirt to look up at him again. “I know that. I just want her day - your day - to be just right.”
“As do I.” Killian smiled softly, anticipation and maybe a hint of nervousness coloring his gaze.
“I know that too.” Snow nodded and then beamed that winning smile at him. “And you know what else?” Henry saw Killian quirk his eyebrow up. “It will be. Especially since we’re all gonna be nice and sober until the ceremony is over.” She patted his chest.
Killian rolled his eyes as Snow stepped away from him. She glanced around the cabin one last time, finally seeming satisfied with what she saw. Turning on her heels, she breezed out of the cabin, throwing a “Help him finish getting ready, Henry!” over her her way down the passageway.
Taking on giant step over to the doorway, Killian swung the door shut and latched it with a bit of dramatic flair. Henry grinned at his usual antics as the pirate spun back around and gave him an aggrieved look.
“Your family are all loons, every damn one.” He huffed out, though there wasn’t any malicious intent to his words. Stepping back over to the mirror, Killian eyed his reflection and shook his head. He made quick work of undoing all the buttons Snow had fastened.
“And you love every second of it.” Henry quipped back. He strolled the short distance so he was standing beside the pirate, eyeing him through the reflection in the mirror.
Killian grinned. “Aye, that I do.” He turned towards Henry and the younger man took note of how the bravado and swagger he’d put on for Snow seemed to seep right out of him. He let out a gush of air, lifting his eyebrows in a quick gesture before he turned away and started pacing up the length of the cabin.
“Nervous?” Henry asked quietly.
Pivoting around on his heels, the long pirate coat Emma had been adamant he wear for the ceremony flapping as he did, Killian shook his head, his attention on the well worn wood under his boots. “Not nervous, particularly.” He looked up at Henry with that same devoted look from before. “At least, not to marry your mum.” A flush rose up on his cheeks, something Henry knew happened when Killian was getting a bit emotional. The telltale ear scratch followed. “I just…” His blue eyes drifted to the side and he tilted his head. “Can’t believe this is really happening. To me, of all people.”
“You’ve earned it.” Henry said without hesitation, gaining a slightly surprised and pleased look from Killian. “You deserve it. Both you and mom do.”
The emotion that colored Killian’s cheeks began to make his eyes shine. “Thank you, lad.” He smiled softly. “It means a lot to hear you say that.”
Henry shrugged, trying to feign nonchalance. He glanced out the cabin window to his left, Storybrooke’s harbor bright in the late morning autumn sunshine. “You know what else you both deserve?” He said conversationally. When he looked back at Killian, the man was watching him with a curious tilt of his head. “A drink.”
A sharp laugh was Killian’s response. “Tell that to your grandmother.”
Reaching into his inner pocket, Henry pulled out what Emma had pushed into his hand and told him to deliver directly to the man in front of him. The worn leather-encased flask’s less than mysterious contents sloshed as Henry gave it a slight shake for emphasis.
Killian’s eyes went wide, a smirk quirking up half his face. “Bloody hell, lad. How…”
“I told you before...” Henry grinned. “They never search the kid.”
-----
He watched the newly married couple dance lazy circles around the center of the raised dance floor that’d been built for the reception right in the middle of town. That look of undying devotion was back in Killian’s hazy gaze as he smiled affectionately down at Emma, who was openly giggling at something only known to the two of them.
“So Operation Morgan was to… get them drunk?” Violet questioned curiously from where she was sitting next to him. Henry looked at her to see her watching his mom and now step dad dance around.
He shook his head. “No, that wasn’t it.” She gave him a disbelieving look and he snorted. “Okay, so yeah, there was rum…” Henry shifted in his seat so he could lean closer to her. “But it wasn’t about the drinking.” He glanced back at the lovestruck newlyweds and shrugged. “It was about them getting married on their own terms.”
“And rum is on their own terms?”
His dark eyes found Violet’s again. “It’s something that’s connected them. Their first adventure, Hook cleaned my mom’s cut hand with his rum. Since then, it’s kinda been one of their things. And yeah, Grandma meant well when she tried to put her foot down, but she just didn’t get it.”
Violet took his hand resting on top of the table and squeeze. “But you did.”
He shrugged again. “I get they’ve always done things a bit differently. They’ve always sort of broken all the rules. It wouldn’t be their wedding if they didn’t.”
“So Operation Morgan was a success, then?”
Henry looked from Violet back to the dancing couple. He watched as Killian instinctively tightened his hold on Emma when she swayed on her feet. Their grins were identical in their adoration and wildness, their focus only on each other in that moment. Lost in each other, a bit mindless of everyone else around when it came to one another, as they always had been.
