The Traitor's Wish

22. The King's Quest

TTW Ch22

Killian led Emma down the hall to their own tiny bedroom on the top level of the inn. He turned the iron key in the lock, and pushed it open after he heard the click. Emma squeezed his hand as they stepped through the threshold.

Killian's mind was racing with worry for his first mate, Brinley. The heat exhaustion and dehydration had hit him the hardest. But of course he had brushed off the pain until it was actually troublesome. He was almost as stubborn as Killian himself.

Emma watched him silently as they partially unpacked their heavy sacks. It had been a long day for all of them. Their hopeful plans of finding the Stone had quickly been rerouted when the Serpent attacked. She hadn't given her mind time to dwell on it through the busy day, but know it consumed every thought she had. There was a giant, hellbent, sea serpent whose only purpose in life was to drag Killian to the depths of the ocean, never to return to her. The only way to avoid it now was staying on land. She would get the stone herself, but if she left Killian here, she knew he would do something drastic.

They could not afford drastic. Emma did not plan on allowing him to risk his life for anything.

Killian sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh. It was the center piece of the room, and practically the only thing in there besides a small table and a lamp. The wood floors creaked with ever step, and cobwebs covered the ceiling.

"Not a palace but it will do." Emma said quietly, her eyes scanning around the room and finally landing on Killian. "As long as we're together." She sat beside him on the lumpy mattress and leaned her head on his shoulder exhaling peaceful.

She sat his hooked arm in her lap and slowly began to unbuckle the latches on the brace Darb had made for him. He grabbed at it instinctively, not wanting her to see this broken piece of himself. Emma's fingers brushed his. She stared up into his blue eyes full of both torment and longing. Slowly he pulled his hand back, allowing her to carefully slide the brace off.

The still fresh wound was wrapped in linen. She assumed it still brought much pain, after all it had not even been a week since the battle had happened. She herself would still be bedridden from her back injures had it not been for Grand Pabi. The scars stilled lingered in stripes on her back, as they would for the rest of her life to remind her what happens when separated from those you love.

She pulled off his heavy leather jacket next, one arm at a time. His eyes stared at a crack in the hardwood. She was sure exhaustion filled every part of him, along with the dread, worry, and fear for the lives of the crew and herself, but fear for himself? No, none would be found. He saw his life as nothing compared to the lives of those he loved. He'd save everyone before himself.

Emma knew it. And it struck fear in her, but it also was one of the qualities she loved so much. He thought so little of himself, yet he was the most honorable man she thought she'd ever meet.

She kissed his cheek softly, and then began to change out of the dirty skirt, leaving on nothing except his oversized shirt. It hung to the middle of her thighs and smelt of salty sea spray.

He pulled off his boots melodically and next his rough leather pants. Emma watched him stumble with the buttons in his shirt. It would still take much time to get used to the one hand. She sat again and helped undo them, sliding off the silken shirt.

Emma pulled back the thick quilt and crawled out of the cold night air under the covers. Killian sat on the edge, staring lifelessly at the wall. "Come on, Killian, you need rest." She said softly.

He turned and stared at the blank space beside her, then met her deep green eyes. "Are you sure, Swan?" He asked respectfully.

"Yes." She shook her head. She was absolutely sure. Every night on The Jolly Roger she'd lay in bed and wonder if he was going to sleep that night, but each time he would sail the ship late into the night, and never come down to the cabin. She expected he was sleeping in the large chair by the window, and her suspicions were confirmed one night when she awoke late and found him snoring softly, fully dressed in his leather coat, and sound asleep in the chair. All she wanted now was to hold onto him tightly without fear that the sea could pull them down at any moment. "A man mustn't leave his wife to sleep alone." She smiled up at him softly, earning a low chuckle as he pulled back the covers and laid beside her.