#words by hollye

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: The Tattoo Tryst

A Captain Swan One Shot

Summary: Prompted by the underground meaning behind a keyhole tattoo, which in some circles is an open use symbol for women who want to be sexually used by men. Emma accidentally reveals her tattoo on a crowded train car and… someone takes advantage. Much to her extreme pleasure.

A/N: So… I had this dream… this very naughty dream, so of course… it had to be fic’d. Some might consider this dub con, but both parties are operating with a respect and understanding of certain rules they both share, so… I don’t really see it that way. That said, if the summary above squicks you out, then this might not be the one shot for you. Smut responsibly.

Big shout out to @jrob64 for agreeing to be my last minute beta (ya snooze, you lose @kmomof4!) Okay, okay... much love and thanks to Krystal, too. She hopped on the doc just in time ;o) You're both amazing and the absolute best!

Rated: E / ~3200 words / Also available on ao3 / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  

~/~

The train car was a sea of humanity by the time Emma was able to squeeze in. Normally, when she traveled home after an evening out with friends, this line was quiet with very few passengers. Tonight, however, thanks to some sporting event that annoyingly ended at the same time she and her friends had parted ways, her usually subdued commute was cramped, overheated, rowdy, and rambunctious.

Managing to slip back into an area where she wasn’t surrounded on all sides, Emma heaved a sigh and gathered her hair off her back and up into a high ponytail. The thin, short, halter style dress she’d chosen for late summer celebratory drinks would help keep her cool in the sweltering heat of the train car, but she knew it wouldn’t take long before she broke out in a sweat under her curtain of hair, so best to address that before it became so crowded she’d have trouble lifting her arms.

It was a good thing she did, too. At the next stop more people pushed their way in, jostling her and those around her as the new occupants jockeyed for position before the doors closed. A hand brushed the back of her dress, whispering over the swell of her ass, but Emma chalked it up as an accident. With the way the crush of passengers were all pressed tightly together and the rocking of the train making it hard to keep balance, there were bound to be a few unintentional touches here and there.

Curling her hand around the bar of the divider to her left, she braced herself as the train set off again, rolling her neck to ease some of the tension and causing the tip of her ponytail to brush across her exposed back. The man in front of her readjusted the bag he had slung over his shoulder, and she practically toppled into the person behind her when she tried to avoid getting smacked by the canvas satchel. A hand grabbed her hip, probably a reflex to help steady her, or to keep her from careening into them further. Again, she wasn’t going to fault the person for the touch.

That was until…

His thumb skimmed over the bare skin at her waist and the grip on her hip tightened as another hand began to trail up the side of her thigh towards her hemline. It took her a quick second to get over her shock - this was no accident - before she inhaled an indignant breath, ready to give this perv a piece of her mind and put him on blast in front of the entire train.

However, the scathing admonishment died on her tongue when a sultry voice gruffed low in her ear, “Intriguing tattoo you’ve got there, love.”

She nearly broke out into a cold sweat, even as heat rushed through her body. Her tattoo. The one she only displayed at a certain club; a certain club she only visited when she’d had enough of her high-stress, high-demand job and wanted to relinquish all control to someone else. The keyhole tattoo on her back was only visible in one specific cut of dress, like the one she had on tonight, which was why she’d been wearing her hair down. What were the odds that when she’d pulled it up, the person behind her would recognize it for what it was?

Rough, calloused fingertips traced over the ink as his other hand slipped beneath her skirt and palmed her ass cheek. “I’m not mistaking its meaning, am I?” he asked, though there was no question in his tone.

Clearing her throat in an attempt to return moisture to the dry, arid environment it had become, Emma whispered, “No.”

“No, what?” he murmured, his breath ghosting past the shell of her ear and making her shiver.

“No, sir.”

“Mmmm,” he hummed, rubbing his palm against her cheek. “Good girl.” His fingers moved to the tattoo that sat below the keyhole and he inquired, “And this one? The swan? A symbolic representation of your safe word, I presume?”

“Yes,” she murmured, over her shoulder, getting a glimpse of him for the first time, which did nothing to even out or calm her breathing.

Shit. He was gorgeous.

“Yes… what?” he replied, his voice deep, rich, and a tad dangerous.

“Yes… sir.”

“Eyes front, love.”

She did as she was told and focused on keeping her breath even and her expression neutral. A shiver of wonder ran down her spine at the feel of his lips caressing her shoulder. His other hand slipped beneath her skirt and worked in tandem with the first, fondling her ass, mapping its curves and creases while toying with the edges of her underwear.

She gasped when the back of her dress flipped up, exposing her backside. His hand slid around to the front of her pelvis and wrapped itself around her mound, pulling her backward by her pussy. He fused her ass to his groin and began rutting into her, his firm erection becoming stiffer at the contact, and all she could do was sink her teeth into her bottom lip and try not to grind against him, even though every throbbing, aching, needy nerve ending in her body was screaming at her to.

She did not dare though. Who knew what sort of attention they’d already started to attract. Who could see them? Were people watching, getting turned on by the entertainment and committing it to memory so they could get off on it later? Would they try to take advantage of the situation, thinking they had a right to her body, too? Her handsome stranger was knowledgeable enough that she trusted he would honor and respect her safe word if she chose to apply it, but would he be able to thwart others who wouldn’t give a damn?

“We’re getting off at the next stop,” he rasped in her ear.

Relief flooded her, but it was quickly overrun by confusion when she opened her eyes and glanced up at the map.

“The next stop?” Emma questioned. There was nothing at the next stop. Due to renovations, that station was practically deserted. “Are you su--”

His hand tightened around her inner thigh, his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh and making her eyes water. “Are you questioning me, Swan?” he growled.

“No, sir,” she exhaled breathlessly, and a flurry of butterfly wings took off in her stomach at the way he said her safeword.

As they approached the next station, her handsome stranger began to guide her forward, his hand wrapped around the back of her neck as he called out for people to make room. Once they’d exited onto the platform, he walked her past the main exit to a tunnel further down. She noted how he kept a vigilant eye out, making sure they weren’t followed off the train. Perhaps, he too had become concerned with the spectacle they were creating and the unwanted attention and trouble it could have garnered.

Now, completely alone and tucked away in the shadows of an alcove, he pressed her against the wall with her hands braced against the stuccoed surface and molded his body to hers.

“Before we continue,” he murmured between nips and kisses to her ear and neck, “anything you wish to tell me? Any particular words you wish to express?”

She knew he was asking for her consent to carry on, giving her a chance to use her safe word if she wasn’t completely on board with what might come next. The anticipation and excitement igniting her blood and throbbing between her legs made it impossible for her to say anything except a provocative and slightly coquettish, “No. I have nothing I wish to say… sir.”

With a hum of approval he feverishly yanked at the ties on the back of her dress, dropping the fabric of the halter top and exposing her chest. He wasted no time, filling each of his hands with her spilling breasts; groping, kneading, and skimming over them with touches that alternated from painfully rough to lovingly tender.

“Does your lover approve of you going out dressed this way?” he gruffed into her ear, the stubble along his jawline scratching against her cheek. “Like you want to be fucked? Like you want to be used? Would he get off on seeing you this way?”

“I don’t… h-have a lover,” she stuttered, her teeth sinking into her lip and muffling the groan attempting to escape her throat at the feel of him rolling her nipples between his fingers. “Sir.”

He grunted, an almost proprietary and possessive sort of sound that made her skin react in an eruption of raised flesh and forced her breath to catch.

Abandoning one of her breasts, his hand skimmed down her body and lifted her skirt. A series of sharp, forceful tugs caused the band of her underwear to snap and the torn pair of panties fell down one of her legs, resting around her ankle.

“Bloody hell, you’re fucking soaked,” he groaned into her skin, working a brand into the slope of her shoulder as his fingers slipped through her folds and coated themselves in her pooling arousal.

Emma’s nails scratched into the rough texture of the wall in front of her as one, then a second, then a third finger curled into her heat and the base of his hand applied exquisite pressure to the ache throbbing through her sex. His fingers worked quickly over her cunt and clit, bringing her to the brink from the way he pumped and curled within her, then removing them altogether, in order to flick and polish the pulsating, needy bud hooded within her folds. The mastery of his movements, combined with the utterly delightful filth he whispered and grunted into her ear had her on the edge of desperation.

“Please,” she whimpered, arching back into him so she could reach around and card her fingers through his hair.

“Please what, Swan?”

“Please,” she moaned, as his lips and tongue did delicious things to the pulse point on her neck.

“I wanna hear you say it, Swan,” he rasped commandingly into her skin, the rhythm of his fingers against her clit just shy of the tempo she desired. “I wanna hear you beg for it.”

Her knees nearly gave out when he slapped her sex, sending a shock wave of pleasure through her body that culminated with a wanton cry from her lips.

“Shhh, love,” he admonished in her ear. “You wouldn’t want any disembarking passengers from the next train to get curious and find us in such a compromising position, now would you?”

“N-No, sir,” she panted. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“What do you want then, Swan?” he goaded, bringing her back to ecstasy’s edge.

“I-I want…” She fisted a handful of his hair and wet her lips as her hips rocked and swiveled in a vain attempt to gain the friction she needed. “I want to come!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Yes, please! Please let me come!”

She could feel his wicked grin when the corners of his lips lifted against her skin. “As you wish.”

Clamping a hand over her mouth, he mercilessly fucked her with his fingers until she screamed against the callouses on his palm. Tremors of pleasure coursed through her and colors erupted behind her eyelids.

She was still enjoying the aftershocks when he pulled his fingers from her core, and took his hand away from her mouth. Collapsing forward, she supported herself against the wall as he fumbled with his belt and zipper before shimmying his pants down to his knees

“I’m going to fuck you now, darling.” The low timbre and graveled quality in his voice made her shiver in anticipation. He tapped against the cleft of her ass, then teased the slick folds of her center with his cock as he inquired, “Unless there is a specific word you wish to say to me first, love?”

Pushing her ass back into his groin, she swiveled her hips and stated, “No, sir.”

“Thank fuck,” he growled before guiding his length into her wanton and greedy pussy.

The joint sound they made was utterly obscene, as were the ones that followed; especially when he lifted one of her legs, hooking the bend of her knee into the crook of his elbow so he could drive himself deeper into her depths.

“So. Fucking. Tight,” he chanted in staccatoed breaths. “So. Fucking. Soft… So. Fucking. Perfect.”

Emma lost herself in the slide of his cock and the way it filled her with each thrust. She wasn’t sure how long he fucked into her before the tell-tale tightening of another impending release began to build, but she wasn’t going to be left at his mercy again. With one hand still braced against the wall, she reached down and toyed with her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples between her fingers and sending zips of pleasure down to her clit. Once she’d worked them back into taut peaks, she reached between her legs and began to furiously rub at the throbbing nub.

“That’s it, Swan,” he praised, wrapping her ponytail around his hand and pulling her head backward. “Touch yourself, love. Make yourself come. I want to feel you come around my cock.”

And feel it he must have. No sooner had her second orgasm ripped through her than she felt his rhythm falter as guttural sounds and groanings deeper than words reverberated through the alcove.

They both collapsed into the wall in front of her, though he was careful to make sure he wasn’t crushing her. A long minute passed as they worked to stabilize their breathing, then another grunt fell from her handsome stranger’s lips as he slipped out of her and a wash of warmth began to seep down her thighs.

Lowering her leg back down, he gently placed a reverent kiss to her shoulder and panted, “That was…”

“A one time thing.”

With their tryst at an end, Emma went back to her usual, assertive self, and took back control. Stepping away from the handsome stranger, she proceeded to set herself to rights.

After tucking himself back into his pants and zipping them up, he offered her an endearingly lop-sided smile. “Here, love. Allow me to help you with that.”

She rebuffed his attempt to help her tie her top back into place with a curt, “Thanks, but I’ve got it.”

Clearly taken aback by her attitude and tone, he pawed at a patch of skin behind his ear and said, “Apologies, love, but have I… have I done something to vex you?” Something flashed in his eyes and his tone practically dripped with concern and distress as he continued, “I thought… you never used your safe word, so I… bloody hell, please tell me you wanted this, too.”

“Of course I did,” she assured him, not wishing him to panic or berate himself after such an amazing experience. Placing a calming hand on his chest, she smiled up at him. “Sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I…” Her mind went blank. This was the first time she was really getting a good look at him and those piercing blue eyes of his were making it difficult for her to concentrate.

One of his brows rose and a smirk played at the corner of his mouth, causing her eyes to drift down and stare at his pinked lips in fascination, wondering what they’d feel like pressed against her own… or other places.

Focus, Emma!

“Look,” she said, clearing her throat and dropping her gaze as she smoothed out her dress. “We both got what we wanted and it’s over now, so let’s not pretend there’s gonna be anything more between us.”

“There could be,” he said, closing the space between them so he could slip a finger beneath her chin and bring her face up towards his. “If you wanted.”

Again, it took her a minute before she remembered. “Well, I don’t.” Sidestepping him, she began searching the ground around them and wondered aloud, “Where did my underwear go?”

The man joined in the search then walked a few steps away, towards a darker part of the tunnel, before reaching down and plucking her panties off the ground.

Swinging them around his finger by the one strap that was not snapped, he smirked and said, “I have half a mind to hold onto these as a memento of our time together.”

When he held them out for her she flicked her gaze up and gave him a smirk of her own. “Keep them.” Trying to shrug off the fresh swell of arousal coursing its way through her bloodstream, she tossed her ponytail over her shoulder and quipped, “They’re of no use to me now, anyway.”

With one last look around to make sure she hadn’t left anything behind, she started to turn for the opening of the alcove when his words stalled her departure.

“So, that’s it then? We’re to be two ships merely passing in the night?”

Heart hammering away in her chest, she took a calming breath before replying, “We’ve passed closely enough, don’t you think?”

This time, before she could make another attempt to leave, the man reached out and gently wrapped his hand around her wrist. “Tell me, please,” he said with an earnestness that almost had her losing her resolve. “Just who are you, Swan?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She meant to apply the same quipping sass she had before, but the words came out more breathless than she had intended.

“Aye. Perhaps I would,” he murmured, stepping further into her personal space. “Won’t you even tell me your name?”

Her gaze flicked down to his hand then back up to his eyes. His too blue eyes beneath pleading brows.

“Swan,” she told him, and his face fell.

Releasing her, he took several steps back, his Adam’s apple bobbing with disappointment. “As you wish, then.”

“No,” she said on an amused breath before clarifying. “That’s my name. Swan. Well… part of it anyway.”

His brows jumped up his forehead, then a delighted smile spread across his face before he schooled his features and brushed his thumb against the corner of his mouth.

“And the rest of it?” he asked, a bit suavely as he loosely wrapped his arms around her waist.

Running her hands up his chest - his firm, hard-planed chest with a dusting of hair, evident by the wisps peeking out from his unbuttoned collar - she alluringly stated, “That’s for me to know… and, if you’re really serious about seeing me again, you to find out.”

His arms tightened, bringing her flush against him. “Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe,” she replied coyly, wrapping her arms around his neck.

She had to crane her neck to look up at him as he towered over her, his lips only a hair’s breadth from hers as he murmured, “Something you’ll come to learn about me, Swan… I do so love a challenge.”

The End.

(For real, K. The. End.)

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)

@kmomof4 @jrob64 @zaharadessert @laianely @booksteaandtoomuchtv @the-darkdragonfly @undercaffinatednightmare @killianxswan @mie779 @motherkatereloyshipper @jennjenn615 @jonesfandomfanatic @anmylica @superchocovian @caught-in-the-filter @winterbaby89 @wyntereyez @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @gingerchangeling @exhaustedpirate @cocohook38 @donteattheappleshook @lfh1226-linda @teamhook @jackieorioncat @paradiselady19 @snowbellewells @earanemith @ultraluckycatnd @pirateherokillian @calmjoonie @unworried-corsair @teamhook @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @captainswan-kellie @soniccat @kday426 @djlbg @fairytalepretzkle @maggiegreenvt @natascha-ronin @ilovemesomekillianjones @iamstartraveller776 @deckerstarblanche @shadowsaur @qualitycoffeethings @idristardis

#csff #cs ff #csfic #cs fic #cs au #cs smut #captain swan #naughty captain swan #the tattoo tryst #words by hollye

[cssns]

Coming Soon!!!

Hopefully tonight, but we’ll see…

@hollyethecurious was all ready to post her fic, The Law of Surprise, this evening, but her WiFi is out. Hopefully, it will be up again very soon, so she can post tonight, but if not, she will post in the morning. Provided the WiFi cooperates.

#coming soon #words by hollye #the law of surprise

[snowbellewells]

CS Fic Rec Monday: “A Mutual Craving” by: @hollyethecurious

Okay friends, here is where it becomes obvious just how far behind I can get in my fic reading from time to time (more often than not anymore it feels). This long one shot was originally written for Halloweek back in the Fall, and I am just now getting to it. Still, @hollyethecurious​ knocked it out of the park (as she always does!!) and I had to share the love now that I have experienced it for myself!!! :)

This fic has action/adventure, danger, and some fiery chemistry that burns up the screen as well.  If you, like me, feel behind and have read this one yet, I’m pretty sure you’ll love it - any time of year!!!

“A Mutual Craving” by: @hollyethecurious​

#csfrm #cs fic rec monday #cs halloweek ff #cs au one shot #a mutual craving #words by hollye #cs fic rec

[kmomof4]

Orphan Girl- A New Fic by @kmomof4

I am sooooooooooo excited to finally share this fic with y'all!!! It has been a LONG time coming!!! It was inspired a year ago by a song our community chorale sang for our spring concert. The song Orphan Girl was written by Brendan Graham for the Annual Great Famine Commemoration in Sydney in 2012. The ceremony commemorates the relocation to Australia of over 4k female orphans after the famine took its toll. The song is told from the perspective of a 16yr old Irish famine orphan longing for a better life in Australia.

I am an orphan girl,

In Westport I was found,

The workhouse is my world,

Since the praties took us down,

What time in life is left to me,

If I don’t leave Westport town,

But the crown is sending girls to sea, for far Australia bound.

Sail, sail, sail me away,

Sail to Australia;

Sail, sail, sail me I pray,

Sail me away to Australia.

They say Australia’s fine,

They say Australia’s fair,

Australia’s on my mind

And the fields of praties there

I pray when this inspection’s done, that they’ll say me fit to sail,

For they don’t just send out anyone, oh Lord, don’t see me fail.

Sail, sail, sail me away,

Sail to Australia;

Sail, sail, sail me I pray,

Sail me away to Australia.

I am scarcely turned sixteen,

But I’m ready now to go

I’m decent and I’m clean,

Fit for any man to know.

And I will be some good man’s wife, 

If there I’ll settle down-

And find myself a better life,

If I get to Sydney town.

Sail, sail, sail me away,

Sail to Australia;

Sail, sail, sail me I pray,

Sail me away to Australia.

Sail me away, sail me I pray

Sail me away to Australia.

I am an orphan girl, oh I am an orphan girl

And now thanks to whom thanks is due! Hollye helped me research and also betaed this monster, Joni helped me with plotting, and the discord ladies kept me sprinting until the dadgum thing was finished!! Thank you all!!!

Summary: Irish potato famine orphans Emma and Mary Margaret Swan hope and pray for a new life in Australia.

Rating: T

Words: 14K Make sure you have snacks and drinks readily available if you read this in one go... 😜

Tags: Period Piece, Irish Potato Famine, Australia Setting, Implied Sexual Assault/Rape, Minor Character Death

On ao3 if that's your preference.

New Tag List for the New Year! Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615 @donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings @booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @pirateprincessofpizza @djlbg @lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie @soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thisonesatellite @jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779 @kymbersmith-90

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

September 19, 1849, Westport Workhouse, County Mayo, Ireland

I am an orphan girl, but my new life begins on the morrow.

Emma Swan sat on her straw pallet, the moon shining in the high window over her sleeping place in the female dormitory of the Westport workhouse. She could barely see as she wrote in the small notebook on her lap. 

The day car departs at 4am for Dublin. From there, we will journey by ship to Plymouth, where awaits the Panama to transport us to Sydney. I cannot help but feel afraid, yet hopeful as well, for what the future holds for myself and Mary Margaret. I know the Lord holds my life, my future, and looking back at what He’s already brought us through, I know I can trust Him. He’s provided an education for myself and Mary Margaret at Achill colony, and preserved my life through the loss of Mam and Da to the great hunger, and during my time here in the workhouse, where so many die every day. I can only expect that He will preserve me through the journey and days, weeks, and months beyond as well. 

As I look around myself, I feel more hope than anything. The workhouse has been my world for 4 years. How I’ve survived here that long is beyond me. This is my only escape and if the provisions we’ve been furnished with are any indication, we will be quite well off indeed. I’ve never owned a bonnet, or stockings, or a separate gown just for sleeping. My time of indenture will be 5 years. I’ll only be 24 by then. I’m going toward a better life. A life of hope and promise. Oh, Lord, be with me, I pray.

~*~*~

January 12, 1850, Immigration Depot, Sydney, Australia

Ruby Lucas opened the door to the room Emma and Mary Margaret, along with other girls from the Panama, would be staying in until they were assigned employment outside the depot in and around Sydney. They looked around wide eyed and slack jawed.

“Would you look at this?” Mary Margaret breathed. Emma joined her frank appreciation. She’d never seen a room this fine. The ceiling was high and the walls were lined with many multi paned windows, shades half drawn, but still letting in an abundance of light. The beds were lined up along the walls with a small dresser in between each one. And it was cool. After the heat of the Australian summer outside, it was a relief to be indoors. 

“It’s not much, I know,” Ruby said. “But this is where you’ll sleep during your time here. We do hold to a daily schedule. Rise at six, meals at 6:30, 11:30 and 5:30. Bedtime is strictly observed at 8:30. And you’ll have daily chores to attend to as well. Most girls are here for a month or less, but some have been here for as long as three months. It just depends on what you’ll be employed doing.”

Emma looked at her sister, who smiled back at her. The schedule wasn’t anything different from what they’d experienced in the workhouse, but already, Emma could see the hope in Mary Margaret’s eyes and she responded in kind. Their education and the training they were to receive here at the Depot, made their prospects of employment high indeed. Emma hoped to work as a domestic, where she might fall in love with another servant in the household and have a family of her own someday.

“Thank you so much, Miss Lucas,” Mary Margaret said, turning to the young woman. “We are so grateful to be here, you have no idea.” Emma nodded her head in agreement.

“Oh, we don’t stand on ceremony around here,” she said, grinning widely and waving her hand around dismissively. “You can call me Ruby. And Granny will have your head if you call her anything but Granny. We’ve seen hundreds of girls come through here over the years and that’s what they all call her. Not that we see many of them once they leave, but when we do…” She trailed away, still with a broad smile on her face and Emma felt an immediate kinship with her. She had a feeling they were going to be great friends.

The following weeks passed quickly and Emma and Mary Margaret were both assigned to occupations within a month of their arrival. Mary Margaret was to be a teacher in a boarding school in Sydney for the children of landowners who lived outside the city proper and Emma was going to work in the home of shipping magnate and sheep farmer Killian Jones. He had a young daughter in need of a governess since her mother had passed away the previous autumn. Mary Margaret would be taking up her employment tomorrow and Emma would be traveling to Killian Jones’ home for a final interview. She understood that he wanted to meet her personally to determine her fitness for being his only daughter’s governess.

This was their last night in the depot, and they lay on their beds, facing each other in the darkness.

“I’m going to miss you, Mary Margaret,” Emma whispered. 

“I’ll miss you, too.” Emma could hear Mary Margaret’s smile in her words. “But we’ll still see each other. I’ll have the weekends off and hopefully, you’ll have the Sabbath off as well. We’ll make it a priority to see each other then. And we can always write to each other.”

Emma pressed her lips together in a small smile. Mary Margaret’s hope was contagious and she felt her spirits lift at her sister’s words.

“Can you believe how far we’ve come?” Emma asked.

“No,” Mary Margaret said, her voice tinged with wonder. “God has truly blessed us. We would have died in that workhouse eventually. But here, we’re going to be productive members of society. Not dependent on it. We have a chance to make new lives for ourselves. Fall in love, get married, raise children.” She paused for a moment. “The headmaster is very handsome.” Her voice was even softer now and Emma had to strain to hear her.

“The headmaster? Of your school?” Emma asked.

“Mmhmmm,” Mary Margaret agreed. “David Nolan.”

Silence fell between them and Emma got lost in her own thoughts. She didn’t know what to expect from her assigned position, or even if she’d receive Killian Jones’ final approval, but the position of governess to the daughter of a wealthy landowner would be as favorable an outcome as she could have expected. She’d be well paid and have higher status within the household than she could have hoped for. Perhaps there she’d meet some good man who would love her and care for her. Someone she could love and care for and raise children with. She smiled in the darkness. Perhaps this David Nolan would be that person for her sister. Only time would tell. She closed her eyes and slipped into dreams.

~*~*~

Emma stepped down from the carriage that brought her from the Immigration Depot to the home of Killian Jones. The house was a single story ranch style home that was finer than anything Emma had ever seen. Granny was right behind her as a chaperone since this wasn’t yet a permanent position. Off to the side of the house, there was a paddock with horses and several men working. Emma inhaled sharply as one by one, the men approached the fence to stare at the newcomers. Emma straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin slightly as she stepped boldly toward the house. It wouldn’t do to show her nervousness at their blatant appraisal.

As she approached the house, a tall and very handsome man emerged from inside. He wore pressed khaki trousers and a blue chambray shirt with a black vest over it. His six-shooter sat on his hip and Emma gulped thinking about the reason why he’d need to have it on him inside his own home. He had dark brown hair whose gently tousled style seemed to match the rest of him- controlled but just untamed enough to be interesting. He had piercing blue eyes and dark scruff lined his jaw with just a hint of ginger in the morning sun. Emma felt her heart rate jump when she saw him.

The man was literally breathtaking. 

“Emma Swan?” he asked, descending the steps toward them, his hand outstretched.

Emma stopped with Granny beside her and dropped a small curtsey before rising and meeting his gaze.

“Yes.”

“And you must be Ms. Lucas,” he said, shaking her hand. “Killian Jones.”

Granny shook his hand and then waved aside his greeting. “Everyone calls me Granny, young man. And I’ll expect you to do the same.”

The man laughed good naturedly. Emma took a deep breath, hoping it would bring her heart rate under control. 

“Very well, Granny. Please, come in,” he said, gesturing behind him toward the house.

Emma struggled to keep her mouth closed as they entered behind him. Like the Depot, the ceilings were high and it was blessedly cool after the nearly two hour journey in the carriage. It was rustic in a way the Depot was not, the walls a little rougher and exposed beams up above. She tried not to stare as he led them into what could only be his office. He shut the heavy double doors behind them as she and Granny settled themselves in the leather chairs in front of the huge wooden desk that dominated the room. He sat down behind the desk and folded his hands on top of it, leaning forward just a bit.

“Welcome to Drogheda Station, Miss Swan,” he began. “My name is Killian Jones, and I am in need of a governess for my young daughter. She lost her mother closing in on a year ago now, and I just wanted to meet you myself before introducing you to my Alice and make sure you’d be a good fit with our family.” Emma nodded, but remained silent. His crystal blue eyes remained on hers as he spoke and she had to give herself an internal shake to keep herself from getting lost in them.

“So, tell me about yourself.” He looked down at a small stack of papers on his desk for a moment before looking back at her again. “I have quite a bit of information about you from your file provided to me from Granny, but I’d like to hear some of it in your own words.” He smiled and Emma instantly relaxed as she returned it.

“Ah,” Emma began, “the name… of the station? Drogheda? That’s Irish isn’t it?”

His smile lit up his face and Emma thought she would swoon at the pleasure she saw in his beautiful eyes.

“It is,” he affirmed. “My father was from Drogheda in County Louth on the east coast of Ireland. He immigrated here when he was a teenager. He died when I was small, but when I bought this land, I wanted to honor him and the roots he left behind by naming the station after his hometown.”

“I see.” She smiled back at him. “That’s a lovely tribute to your family. Thank you for sharing it with me. I’d never been to County Louth, but I had heard of it. I’m from County Mayo on the west coast.”

Killian smiled softly at her statement and nodded for her to continue. He watched the young woman in front of him intently as she continued speaking. Her manners were impeccable and her appearance was most pleasing. Her long golden hair was gathered at the nape of her neck in a ponytail against the summer heat, but it positively glowed in the sun shining through the windows of his office. There was a sadness in her green eyes that Killian found himself responding to. It was the look that he himself saw in the mirror every day. The look of an orphan. Given her circumstances, and where she came from, he wasn’t at all surprised. 

What did surprise him, however, was how strongly he was responding to it. He wanted nothing more than to care for and shelter this lovely young lady. Her education and decorum were obvious in her comportment and Killian was sure she’d be a perfect fit for the position. He rarely had trouble discerning the character of a person upon their first meeting, and after just this brief introduction to Emma Swan, he had no compunction whatsoever in bringing her on as Alice’s governess.

“Thank you, Miss Swan,” he said when she finished telling him about herself. He turned his attention to Granny. “She’ll do fine. Thank you,” he continued with a short and decisive nod. “Now, do either of you have any questions for me?”

Emma glanced at Granny for a moment before turning back toward Mr. Jones. 

“I had a couple of questions, actually, Sir.” 

He waved aside her statement. “You don’t need to address me as Sir, Miss Swan. As a member of the household, Mr. Jones will do,” he said, his blue eyes meeting hers.

Emma was surprised, but nodded. “Well, that was the first one,” she said with a smile. “The second was concerning time off. I do hope this isn’t presumptuous. My sister remained in Sydney as a teacher at a boarding school and I’d like to be able to visit her occasionally.”

“Of course,” he agreed immediately. “We are pretty strict about observing the Sabbath here, so you’d be free to spend that day however you saw fit. Whether you spent it reading in your room, catching up on correspondence, or visiting your sister in town. You’d, of course, have access to a carriage to carry you to and from.”

“Thank you so much.” She looked at Granny again, who’d opened her mouth to speak.

“I have a question as well.”

Mr. Jones encouraged her to continue with a wave of his hand.

“I noticed the men in the paddock next to the house paying special attention when Emma climbed out of the carriage.” Granny was fierce and she wouldn’t tolerate any untoward behavior toward her charges. She fixed him with a glare that had Emma questioning if she’d actually remain behind when Granny left or not. “What guarantee do I have that Emma will be safe here?” “I run a tight ship here, Granny,” he said, meeting her stare with one of his own. “I can’t fault the men for noticing a pretty lass, but there is a line and they know not to cross it. Not to cross me. Emma will be safe here. You have my word.”

Granny was motionless for a moment before she nodded her head sharply and stood. Emma stood as well and turned toward her caretaker for the last month before embracing her fiercely.

“Thank you so much, Granny,” she whispered. “For everything.”

Granny held on to her upper arms as she drew away from her. “You make us proud, Emma. And I will expect a visit when you come to town to visit Mary Margaret.”

Emma smiled through the tears that were forming in the corners of her eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

Once they’d escorted Granny back out to the carriage that would carry her back to Sydney and watched it disappear over the horizon, Mr. Jones showed her back inside. Emma noticed the men in the paddock didn’t pay them any special notice this time, not while he was with her. As they passed through the house, Mr. Jones pointed out various rooms as he led her directly to her quarters. Her trunk had already been deposited inside, as he had instructed before they saw Granny off.

“Dinner is at seven. You’ll meet Alice then,” he informed her. “Until then, feel free to unpack and rest. I’ll have a lunch tray brought to you here in a few minutes so you won’t be disturbed.”

“Thank you. I’d appreciate a rest after the journey and I’ll look forward to meeting Alice this evening.” Emma smiled and nodded as he backed out of the room and shut the door.

~*~*~

Emma rushed into the dining room hours later to find Mr. Jones and a young girl already seated at the table. Emma quickly curtseyed and apologized for her tardiness before sitting down in a vacant chair opposite the girl.

“It’s your first evening in a new environment,” Mr. Jones said. “And I didn’t exactly take you on a full tour of the house so you’d know where to go. So no apology is necessary.” He gave her an appraising look as their meal was served. Emma’s mouth went dry, wondering if she’d done something wrong already.

“This is the same dress you wore this morning, is it not?” he asked.

Emma looked down as a blush heated her cheeks. “It is,” she said. “I only have one other.”

“I see,” he murmured. “We’ll have to make a trip into town sometime soon to furnish you a suitable wardrobe. You can’t be expected to wear the same two dresses day after day after day. People would think you weren’t being paid a suitable wage. I’ll need to clear my schedule a bit, so we can take a couple of days for the trip. I still have some of my wife’s garments you can make use of until then.”

“Oh, that’s really not necessary…”

“Nonsense,” he interrupted. He glanced at his daughter who watched the exchange with wide blue eyes, just like her father. “I am trying to raise Alice to be a lady, with the manners and comportment to match, and that is difficult enough out here in the bush without a good example for her to follow.” He raised his eyebrows at her with a significant look and Emma nodded her understanding before smiling across at the girl.

“Alice, this is your new governess, Miss Emma,” he introduced. “Emma, may I present to you, my daughter, Alice.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Alice,” she said.

“You as well, Miss Emma,” Alice replied, a wide smile lighting up her entire face. 

Once the introductions were out of the way, Alice proved to be a delightful chatterbox. She was inquisitive, attentive, and very observant and it was clear to Emma that Mr. Jones loved his daughter dearly in the way he spoke to her and gently steered the dinner conversation. 

As the meal came to an end, Mr. Jones rose from the table and spoke once again. “It’s time to ready yourself for bed, my Starfish.” He turned his attention to Emma. “I’ll see to her bedtime routine tonight, and give you this first evening to yourself. You can take over tomorrow evening.” Emma smiled and nodded her agreement. “Goodnight, Miss Emma.” 

He held his elbow out for Alice to take and Emma’s heart melted.

“Goodnight, Mr. Jones. Goodnight, Alice.”

“Goodnight, Miss Emma,” Alice replied. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

As they walked out of the dining room, Emma smiled softly at the obvious affection between father and daughter. It was wonderful to see a father take such an interest in the care of his child. Once they were gone, she thought back to all the circumstances that had brought her to this place. This truly was the beginning of a new life for her, and she had the feeling it would be a good one.

~*~*~

The next morning, Mr. Jones took Emma on a full tour of the house. She met Robin Locksley, the overseer at the station, and the other household staff. They were all friendly and polite and Emma felt completely at ease among them. Once the tour was finished, Alice joined them as they entered the stable to collect a buggy for a ride around the station, for when the ladies might take excursions around the property. 

“Cassidy,” he called, once they were inside.

A man with light brown hair emerged from one of the stalls wiping his hands on what was once a white cloth. He wasn’t as tall as Mr. Jones, and was a bit stockier, too. The look in his eye as he took her in reminded her of the way the hands had stared at her when she’d arrived the day before. She did the same thing now as she did then, raising her chin just a bit and squaring her shoulders. A quick glance at her employer told her he’d noticed his appraisal as well, and wasn’t pleased. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he silently clenched his teeth in apparent irritation.

“Good morning, Mr. Jones,” the man said affably. “What can I do for you?”

“Cassidy, this is Alice’s new governess, Miss Emma Swan,” he introduced. “Miss Emma, this the stablemaster, Mr. Neal Cassidy. Whenever you and Alice want to go for a ride, or need a carriage for going into town, he’ll take care of getting your horses ready.” 

Emma curtseyed politely, even if she’d rather stay far away from the man in front of them. 

“I’ll be accompanying Miss Emma and Alice today, Cassidy, but in the future, if they are traveling by buggy or carriage, I want a stable hand to accompany them.” He turned to Emma, sincerity shining in his eyes. “I know you’re able to drive a buggy, Miss Emma,” he said, “but in the case of an emergency, whether that’s dingos or a broken wheel or axle, I’d feel better knowing you had an armed man with you and my daughter.”

“Of course, Mr. Jones,” she agreed quickly. “To be honest, I’d feel the same way. There’s too much out here that I’m unexposed to and unfamiliar with. I’d feel much better having someone with us who could handle whatever the bush throws at us.”

Killian smiled, relieved she’d agreed with his edict so quickly. Turning back to Cassidy, he gave the man’s back a hard stare as he went about preparing the carriage for them. He hadn’t missed the blatant appreciation in his eyes when he saw Emma. Cassidy was relatively new to the ranch- he’d only been there since the new year- but he’d come very highly recommended. Just as he’d told Granny the day before, he couldn’t fault the man for noticing Emma, but he hadn’t been here long enough to know what was expected behavior around a lady. Killian had a feeling he was going to have to keep a close eye on the stablemaster and make it very clear to him that Emma was under his protection. Anything less than gentlemanly and respectful treatment of Emma and Alice would not be tolerated. And would be dealt with immediately and decisively. Killian’s honor would allow nothing less.

~*~*~

Emma had been at the station for two weeks when Killian was finally able to take a couple of days away from his work to accompany Emma and Alice into town for a new wardrobe for Emma. Alice was quite excited because she’d been promised new hair ribbons. 

The bell over the door rang as Killian opened it before allowing the ladies to precede him inside. Emma’s eyes widened in surprise. The sunlight pouring through the windows at the front of the store drew attention to the soft fabrics and rich, vibrant colors. They nearly made Emma’s eyes dazzle. She’d never seen the like.

She couldn’t help reaching out and trailing her fingers along the edge of the dress in front of her as Killian approached the counter. The material was soft to the touch, and nearly exactly the same color as her eyes. A small sigh escaped her as she pictured herself wearing it. A soft gasp beside her brought her out of her reverie and focused her attention on Alice.

“You’d look so pretty in this, Miss Emma,” she breathed. “Don’t you think so, Papa?” 

Emma was astonished to find Killian standing in front of them. She’d been so lost in her daydream, she hadn’t realized he’d returned to where she and Alice were looking around at the clothes on display.

He had a soft smile on his face as he looked at her and his hand joined hers as it continued to stroke the soft fabric.

“It would look lovely on you, Miss Emma.” His eyes never left hers as his hand gently cupped hers, so that the back of his fingers also ran along the material. Emma could hardly breathe.

A third voice joined them, startling Emma again. A tall, somewhat plump woman dressed in pink was looking her up and down.

“Ah, yes,” she said. “And I believe this day dress would need very little in the way of tailoring. It seems to have been made for you.” She pulled the dress down and held it up to her. “Yes,” she said, nodding decisively. “Go in the back and put it on. I’ll be there in a moment to make sure no alterations are needed.”

Emma, seeking his permission, looked at Killian who was scratching behind his ear. He nodded gently at her. 

“Miss Flora and her sisters, Miss Fauna and Miss Meriweather,” he began, motioning at the other two women who’d also joined them, “are master haberdashers. I’m sure Miss Flora is correct in surmising your size and if the dress will fit.”

Emma nodded and took the dress from Miss Flora. She moved toward the back of the shop and took a deep breath trying to bring her heart rate back under control. The way he was looking at her as they both touched the material of the dress made heat rise to her cheeks and sent her heart into overdrive, beating a staccato rhythm that she could only hope wasn’t obvious to the people around her.

Once she got the dress on, she could plainly see Miss Flora truly was an expert. It fit her perfectly. Just then, Miss Flora came through the drapes that hung over the door to the front of the store and Emma could just see Alice poking her head through.

“May I come in and see, Miss Emma?” she asked, shyly. 

Emma smiled widely. “If Miss Flora doesn’t mind,” she answered. “It is her shop after all.”

The woman smiled indulgently and turned toward the child. “Of course not, my dear! Please come in.” Alice came through the drapes as Flora mumbled under her breath about other items Emma would need to round out her wardrobe.

Alice’s eyes lit up at the day dress Emma wore. A soft smile touched Miss Flora’s lips as Alice came closer.

“You were absolutely right, Miss Alice,” she said. “This dress is perfect on our lovely Emma. It really brings out your eyes,” she said, turning her attention back to Emma again. Her eyes twinkled and Emma smiled softly at the complement.

After that, it was nothing but Miss Flora measuring Emma every which way she could be measured. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine all that went into making a lady’s wardrobe. Miss Fauna brought in swatch after swatch of fabric for Emma to choose from and also helped settle her sisters when an argument arose between them about which color- a soft sky blue, or a blushing pink- would better compliment Emma’s fair complexion.

By the end of it all, Emma was ready for a meal and a bed. She’d been on her feet for hours as the ladies brought out dress after dress- with all the accessories that went along with them- for her to try on both before and after slight alterations were made. The first day dress they’d found when they entered the shop was the only one of the bunch that needed nothing done to it and Emma planned to wear it when they traveled home the next day.

In addition to Emma’s full wardrobe, Killian also made arrangements for Alice’s measurements to be taken as well. She’d grown so much over the summer- much like plants, Miss Flora and Miss Fauna agreed- she was going to need new clothing to see her through the winter. But for now, Alice was simply thrilled with beautiful new ribbons for her hair that matched many of Emma’s new dresses and hair accessories.

It was much too late in the day to try and make it back to Drogheda Station before nightfall, besides the fact the sisters needed a bit more time to complete a few pieces of Emma’s wardrobe. They would be ready in the morning. So the trio made a surprise visit to Misthaven School where Mary Margaret taught.

The sisters embraced joyfully before Emma introduced Killian and Alice to Mary Margaret.

“Mary Margaret,” she began, “This is Mr. Jones and his daughter, Alice. Mr. Jones, my sister, Mary Margaret.” 

Killian extended his hand for Mary Margaret to shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Mary Margaret. My daughter, Alice,” he said, motioning toward Alice, who dropped a slight curtsey.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Mary Margaret,” she said, smiling shyly.

“And you, Miss Alice,” she replied with a nod, her smile warm and welcoming.

They spent a pleasant evening in one another’s company. Once they were past the introductions, Alice blossomed under Mary Margaret’s attention, telling her new friend all about everything Emma was teaching her and how much she enjoyed it. Even with as tired as Emma was, when their time together was drawing to an end, she was loath to leave her sister’s presence, knowing it would be a long while before she’d be able to visit again.

The sisters embraced warmly and even Alice threw her arms around Mary Margaret’s middle in a surprise hug that was completely unexpected by all the adults.

“It was lovely to meet you, Miss Mary Margaret,” Alice said, releasing her. She turned unsure eyes upon her father, not quite certain how he’d react to her lack of decorum. But the smile on his face told her all was well. A relieved smile broke over her face as she turned back to her new friend and dropped a curtsey before returning quickly to her father’s side.

“You as well, Miss Alice,” Mary Margaret replied, her attention then turning to Mr. Jones. “Thank you so much for this wonderful surprise, Mr. Jones. It’s only been a couple of weeks since we’ve seen each other, but I’ve missed Emma so much.” She placed a hand over her heart, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes, matching her sister’s as she glanced at her. “I had no idea how much I was going to miss her.” Mary Margaret’s attention returned to Mr. Jones as she extended her hand. “I cannot thank you enough.”

“It was my pleasure, Miss Mary Margaret.” He took her hand and shook it before glancing at Emma and Alice. “And now we must take our leave before these two collapse. It has been a very long and tiring day for us all.”

“Of course,” Mary Margaret agreed, reaching for her sister one more time. “I’ll see you again soon and we can write in the meantime.”

Emma nodded, too choked up for speech. She pulled back and turned to where Killian stood with Alice, her arm looped through his. He smiled gently at her and Emma returned it, licking her lips that had suddenly become dry as she approached and looped her arm through his offered arm before they walked out toward their waiting carriage.

Mary Margaret smiled as she watched them go. Thankful that just as her life had turned around since leaving Ireland, it appeared her sister’s life had done the same.

~*~*~

“Goodnight, Alice,” Emma murmured, rising from the child’s bed in the hotel room Mr. Jones had booked them for the night.

“Goodnight, Miss Emma,” Alice replied as she snuggled down under the homespun quilt that covered her bed. Emma was too wound up to sleep just yet, so she crossed the room to where a small sofa sat near the door and sat down. She picked up her journal that lay on the small end table and began to write.

What a wonderful day it was. Our visit to F F & M Haberdashers was like a dream. The clothing on display was simply beautiful. The fabrics were so soft and the colors so bright and lovely. I thought we were abundantly blessed with the items we brought with us from Ireland, but the wardrobe Mr. Jones purchased for me today is so much more than I ever dreamed.

Emma tapped her quill against her chin as she thought about her next words. Her mouth opened slightly and she took a deep shaky breath as she told herself that these words were hers alone. No one else would ever be privy to them, and so she could write down exactly what her thoughts and feelings were as she tried on the different dresses and showed them to Alice and Mr. Jones. She licked her suddenly dry lips and continued writing.

I felt a bit like Cinderella in her beautiful ball gown, with Miss Flora, Miss Fauna, and Miss Meriweather as my fairy godmothers, and Mr. Jones standing in for the prince. Emma’s cheeks heated as she wrote those last words. She cut her eyes over to the bed where Alice was comfortably in the arms of sleep before she re-inked the quill and  put it  to paper again. Mr. Jones is obviously not a prince, but the way he looked at me with each new garment I tried on made my heart stop. His eyes are so clear and so blue. They’re beautiful and I could get lost in them. She shook her head, trying to banish the fanciful musings from her mind. He was an established landowner and she was only a governess. There’d never be anything between them. But the parallels between the story of Cinderella and my life are clear. A girl with nothing is suddenly given everything. Oh, how I wish… She stopped again, utterly unable to put those deep and hidden desires of her heart into words on the page.

Music reached her ears as she closed her journal and laid it back on the end table. It had been a very long day, but thinking back on all the joy the day had brought, Emma knew it would be some time before she’d be able to sleep. She rose from the sofa and glanced back at Alice, satisfied to see her still sound asleep and slipped out of the door. Mr. Jones was in the adjoining room in case Alice cried out and she’d only be gone a few minutes. Just long enough to find where the beautiful melody was coming from. She descended the stairs to the main lobby of the hotel, following the lovely music to a grand ballroom.

As Emma entered, she saw many couples dancing out in the middle of the floor, while several tables laden with all kinds of sumptuous looking delicacies lined the walls of the room. There appeared to be about a hundred people in the lavishly decorated room, soft candlelight illuminating the space, giving it an almost otherworldly quality. Then her eyes landed on the obviously newly married couple in the center of the dance floor. 

They were a truly beautiful couple. Both with blonde hair, hers was piled on top of her head in an elaborate style, held together with strings of pearls woven throughout that echoed the ones sewn on her gorgeous white gown. His countenance appeared to be chiseled from marble, the lines of his face perfect in every way. Normally, Emma would think of marble as cold and unyielding, however, he was anything but as he gazed at his bride. They had eyes only for each other. Their matching smiles were full of joy and love and her heart melted inside her.

“They’re a beautiful couple aren’t they?” a voice whispered from behind her, startling her. She turned, a gasp on her lips and her hand pressed to her heart, to find Mr. Jones standing just behind her, a soft smile on his lips.

“I didn’t see you there, Mr. Jones,” she murmured before glancing back into the room. She smiled as her eyes found the bride and groom again. “Yes, yes they are. Do you know them?” The question flew out of her mouth before she really had a chance to think about it, but she couldn’t think of any other reason for him to be down here. Perhaps he’d been invited to the lavish affair and he’d come down to offer his congratulations since he hadn’t been able to attend the ceremony.

Mr. Jones chuckled in amusement. “No,” he informed her. “This is old Sydney money. I’d never be invited to something like this.” He scratched behind his ear just as he had that morning at the haberdashers and his cheeks turned red. Emma couldn’t help but smile at the nervous mannerism. “My money is much too new for me to be considered a part of the upper echelons of Sydney society. Which this clearly is,” he said, motioning back toward the room. “But I heard the music, and wanted to see where it was coming from.”

“I see.” She paused for a moment as they both continued to watch. “It was the same for me. Alice was asleep, and I only planned on being out of the room for just a few minutes, so I followed it down here.” 

They were both silent for a few minutes, simply enjoying the soaring melody of the string quartet and harpsichord.

“This reminds me of my wedding day to Milah,” Mr. Jones said softly. She turned confused eyes on him as he continued. “Not the setting obviously, we were too poor for that, but the way they’re looking at each other. Like there’s no one else in the world. They could be in the outback, surrounded by sagebrush and dingos and they would still be looking at each other the way they are now.”

A sigh escaped her as she nodded her agreement. “After all the blessings I’ve enjoyed these last few months, it seems almost selfish to hope that I may find a love like that someday.”

“Blessings?” he echoed quietly. “Losing your family and traveling thousands of miles to the other side of the world to face an uncertain future… I’m not sure I’d call them blessings.”

“No disrespect, Mr. Jones,” she replied, “but if you’d seen the workhouse, you might think differently.”

“Point taken,” he said, a genuine smile on his lips.

“But, yes, the blessings,” she emphasized the word with a small smile on her lips, “of a good education before coming here, meeting Ruby and Granny at the Depot, and then coming to work in your home, meeting you and Alice… it’s the best outcome I could have hoped for.”

“There’s nothing wrong with hoping to find love one day, Miss Emma,” he said. “You’re young and beautiful.” His cheeks flushed and he scratched behind his ear again before his eyes settled on hers again. They were the deep blue of the sea, and the way he was looking at her made the butterflies in her stomach take flight and her breath catch. “You’re kind and very intelligent. And just seeing you with my daughter the last couple of weeks, I know that your heart is good. You will make a very blessed man a fine wife someday.”

Emma dropped her gaze from his and she could breathe again. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before she looked up at him again. The intensity she found there was the same as before and she could positively drown in them without a whimper of complaint.

“Th- thank you, Mr. Jones,” she stammered. “I should probably be getting back,” she said, motioning toward the stairs. He smiled and nodded, holding out his elbow to her. She took it and allowed him to escort her back to their adjoining rooms. Being this close to him was doing nothing to calm her racing heart and heated cheeks, but his words downstairs had touched her in such a way that she could hardly say anything in response. When they reached her door, she turned back to him. “Thank you again, Mr. Jones. For everything.” She hoped the gratefulness in her heart showed in her eyes and that he saw it and took her meaning. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Miss Emma.”

She smiled softly as she closed the door, unaware that he lingered there for a moment longer before returning to his own room.

~*~*~

The next few months passed happily. The bond between Emma and Alice only strengthened, and Emma loved her as if she was her own child. They settled quickly into a routine of studies during the morning hours with the afternoons being filled with lessons in manners and comportment, drawing and painting, dancing, and learning to play the pianoforte. Killian was a frequent observer of Alice’s afternoon lessons and Emma couldn’t help the little stutter her heart gave whenever he joined them. 

He was the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on and even though he was nearly a decade her senior, she couldn’t help but wish that perhaps someday he might come to see her as more than just his daughter’s governess. A personal relationship between a landowner and a lowly governess was very much frowned upon, but she’d been so welcomed into the family by both Alice and Killian himself, she couldn’t stop her imagination running away with dreams of a happy beginning with Killian and Alice.

The only dark cloud in her new life was the stablemaster, Neal Cassidy. He’d never done or said anything overtly inappropriate, but she’d have to be completely blind to be unaware of his lustful gaze whenever she had need to come to the stable. His words and actions toward her were polite, but she could feel his eyes on her whenever he was near, whether that was inside the stable or not. And the shiver of trepidation she felt in his presence warned her to never be alone with him.

Alice’s 8th birthday was soon approaching and she found herself intimately involved in planning a special dinner and party for her young charge. Being so isolated from other children her own age living so far out of town, Alice didn’t have any friends to invite over, so Emma was determined to do what she could to make the day of her birth memorable. 

On the Sabbath before Alice’s birthday, Emma traveled into town to visit Mary Margaret, Ruby, and Granny, and also to do some shopping for Alice. She’d made such wonderful progress in her art lessons, Emma thought it was high time for her to have her own set of charcoals and sketch pad. When she’d discussed the idea with Killian, he’d wholeheartedly agreed. He’d been unable to leave the Station to do the shopping himself, so she’d offered to do it for him during her visit. Since the sketch pad and charcoals would be given to Alice by her father, Emma decided to gift the girl a new bonnet and hair ribbons.

She left immediately after breakfast with Will Scarlet, her usual companion when she and Alice had need of the buggy. Thankfully, she had time to complete her shopping before meeting her sister at a local inn for a meal. It had been over two months since their last visit and they embraced warmly before settling at a table in front of the windows.

As they sat down, Emma’s eyes were drawn to a beautiful peridot ring that sat on the third finger of Mary Margaret’s left hand. One hand flew to her mouth in shock as she took her sister’s hand with the other in order to bring it closer.

“Is this what I think it is?” she breathed.

Mary Margaret giggled with delight. “It is!” she exclaimed. “David asked me to marry him! I didn’t want to tell you in a letter and so just waited until our visit!”

At their surprise visit two months ago, Mary Margaret had told her more about the handsome headmaster of her school she’d mentioned their last night in the Depot. He’d made his interest in her clear, but hadn’t yet begun courting her. In the subsequent weeks in between that visit and this one, Mary Margaret had written faithfully to her every week with new developments in their relationship. And now to see the beautiful ring on her sister’s finger, Emma was overjoyed to share in her happiness. 

“When is the happy day?” Emma asked.

“August eighteenth,” Mary Margaret gushed. “Once worship is finished, the wedding will take place.” She grabbed both of Emma’s hands in excitement. “Tell me you’ll be able to come.”

“Of course, I will! I wouldn’t miss it for anything!” Emma exclaimed. “I’m sure Killian wouldn’t mind. In fact, I’m not sure he wouldn’t want to accompany me. Alice as well,” she said. 

“We’d make them most welcome,” Mary Margaret assured her sister, speculative thoughts swirling through her mind. 

She was so excited to share her joyous news, that she almost missed the longing and hopeful look on Emma’s face when she mentioned that Killian might want to join her for the wedding. When they met two months ago, Emma introduced him as Mr. Jones and in her letters, she always referred to him the same way, but that little slip of the tongue made Mary Margaret wonder if there was more between them than what her beloved younger sister had heretofore expressed. Perhaps some subtle questioning was in order. 

“Killian, huh? When did you start calling him Killian?” Emma’s mouth fell open, clearly just realizing she’d called her employer by his first name instead of Mr. Jones. The blush spread across her cheeks and her eyes cut away making Mary Margaret smile indulgently before continuing. “It’s clear from your letters that you are happy there, and that you love Alice, but tell me more about Killian. We only had those couple of hours together when you were here last time. What is he like?”

Emma’s face took on a faraway look. One that told Mary Margaret definitively that her sister was in love. She’d been teased about her own similar look quite enough by her colleagues the past couple of months. Her heart melted at the knowledge and she could only hope Killian Jones shared her sister’s regard.

Emma began telling her about him in fits and starts that only made Mary Margaret’s certainty about her sister’s feelings for her employer all the more steadfast. Emma told her how kind he was, how honorable he was, how well she was treated in his household. The attributes she described reminded Mary Margaret very much of her David and she sent up a prayer that Emma would find love with Mr. Killian Jones. It may have been frowned upon in society, but Mary Margaret believed in love with her whole heart and that love was a part of all happiness. She didn’t want societal norms to get in the way of true love, and so she happily ignored those norms and hoped and prayed for that happiness for her sister, no matter what society thought.

The rest of their visit flew by, including tea with Granny and Ruby back at the Depot. It was the first time the sisters had been back to visit with them since leaving three months prior. Ruby had her own news to share as the General Store owner, Graham Humbert, had finally begun courting her and she was hopeful he’d ask for her hand in the next few weeks.

All too soon, the sisters had to take their leave and Emma had to journey back to Drogheda Station. Tears and hugs between the four were had in abundance as well as promises not to wait for three months before coming back for another visit. Once Emma was safely ensconced in the carriage that would carry her home, she waved out the window at her sister, Ruby, and Granny. When they were out of sight, she settled back and closed her eyes for the long journey. 

It had been a wonderful day, but she was ready to return home to her charge and prepare for Alice’s birthday on Tuesday. Killian would be leaving Wednesday morning for an extended trip into Queensland, New Guinea, and New Zealand to look for new shipping markets for the wool and meat Drogheda Station provided. Robin would be standing in Killian’s stead with the day to day operations of the Station while he was gone. She hadn’t had much occasion to really interact with him over the months she’d been there, but he always treated her like a gentleman should and Emma felt no unease about him with Killian gone. She’d certainly miss Killian though. Which was why she wanted Alice’s birthday celebration to be so special. Both for the child and for her father.

~*~*~

Alice’s birthday was as perfect an autumn day as one could wish for, much like the actual day of her birth. It was Killian’s favorite time of year, both for celebrating Alice’s birth and the change of the seasons. The heat of the Australian summer was now fully behind them but the cold winter months were as yet a way off. Losing his wife, just over a year ago now, had obviously cast a pall over his daughter’s birthday last year, but Emma was determined that they’d make new, happier memories to replace the sad ones from their loss the year before. She wanted to make sure Alice was fully celebrated, as she deserved to be. 

Emma had begun the day foregoing Alice’s regular studies for the special day, and had instead enlisted her help in the kitchen to assist with the preparations for tonight’s celebratory dinner. Alice was thrilled to help and Killian had been unceremoniously shooed out of the room, his ladies insisting he’d only be in the way.

His ladies.

Dangerous thoughts, those. 

But Killian really couldn’t help them. Since Emma had joined his household three months prior, he thought of his beloved Milah- Alice’s mother- less and less. His heartache at losing her had finally begun to heal. 

As he watched Emma with Alice during their lessons, his heart would be fit to explode with happiness at seeing the clear love and affinity between them. Alice positively blossomed under Emma’s gentle tutelage. She was so smart and eager to learn that she excelled in every subject she and Emma had undertaken. Just last week, Emma had come to him to discuss accelerating her studies to keep Alice’s insatiable appetite for learning appeased. He couldn’t have asked for a better governess for his precious daughter.

The more time he spent with them, and Emma in particular, the more he realized that the regard with which he held Emma was not entirely of the type a man like him should have for a woman like her. Her beauty never failed to make his breath stutter and his heart rate to increase dramatically. Her grace and mannerisms endeared her to him in a way he’d not experienced since he’d met Milah. Her love for his daughter, her quiet and gentle spirit, in spite of the circumstances she’d faced in her short life spoke to a strength of character that was astounding in one so young. His heart was in imminent danger of becoming hers forever, but societal norms wouldn’t look kindly upon a romantic relationship between them. He’d be more than willing to throw off the conventions of society- he didn’t have much contact with society in the first place- if he knew for sure what her feelings were toward him.

She’d never turned him away when he requested to watch them during their lessons, though he would have expected her to be a little nervous to have him as such a frequent observer. Thinking back on the last few months, he realized his requests had become progressively more frequent as time went on. Why, this month alone, he believed he’d observed them just about every other day. And as he did, his own regard for the lovely young woman in his employ only grew. And if he wasn’t mistaken, Emma seemed to be quite pleased when he did request to join them. Her smile seemed wider, the sparkle in her eyes just a bit more apparent. Perhaps she did hold some affection for him- and not of the familial type.

Perhaps tonight, after Alice’s birthday celebrations, he could have a private word with the lovely Emma Swan.

~*~*~

The birthday dinner was a complete success. Alice told him all about the different things she’d done to help prepare the meal. Of course, Cook and the other kitchen staff took care of the heavy lifting, so to speak, but Alice was thrilled when she’d been allowed- with Emma’s close supervision of course- to help chop the vegetables for the lamb stew they dined on, and then Emma had taught her how to make the Irish soda bread native to her homeland. The meal was completed by plum pudding that Alice helped prepare by doing all the mixing of ingredients before pouring it into the mold. The single candle in the middle of the pudding for Alice to blow out was as bright as her smile and Killian and Emma, as well as the other staff, all cheered when she successfully blew it out after shutting her eyes for a moment and making a wish.

Once the pudding was consumed, Killian and Emma gave Alice their birthday gifts. Alice was delighted with the new bonnet and hair ribbons and asked if they could have a picnic the next day so she’d have occasion to wear it. The sketch pad and charcoals were received with utter shock. Tears gathered in the corners of the child’s eyes and Emma worried for a moment that she wasn’t pleased with the gift. When Killian explained that it had been Emma’s idea given how well she was doing in her drawing lessons, Alice flung herself into first Emma’s and then her father’s arms sobbing out her joy and elation at having her very own sketch pad that she could use anytime she wanted, to draw anything she wanted.

As Emma and Alice were leaving the room to prepare for bed, Killian cleared his throat drawing both their attentions.

“Yes, Papa?” Alice asked.

Killian smiled softly at them. “Happy birthday, Starfish.” 

Alice let go of Emma’s hand and ran to her father, throwing her arms around his waist. “Thank you, Papa. It was the best birthday ever.”  Killian lifted his eyes to Emma’s and mouthed Thank you to her. She nodded and smiled before turning back towards the door of the room.

“Uh, Emma?”

Emma turned back toward Killian and Alice, who’d released her father and was walking back towards her.

“Yes, Mr. Jones?”

“Could you join me in my office after our evening prayers?”

“Of course.”

Emma couldn’t help but wonder why he wanted to see her. She’d have to curb her curiosity for the next hour as she and Alice went through her bedtime routine before Killian would join them to kiss his daughter goodnight and pray with them. Could he perhaps wish to tell her goodbye personally before he left for six weeks? She’d find out soon enough.

~*~*~

Emma preceded Killian into his office and he shut the doors behind them. 

“Please, sit down, Emma,” he invited. She sat down in front of his desk as he moved behind it. He sat down and clasped his hands on top of it, just as he had the day they met.

“You may be wondering why I’ve asked you here,” he said. “I, ah…” he paused and scratched behind his ear. It was a terribly endearing gesture and Emma couldn’t help the smile that broke over her lips at his action. 

“I do have to admit, I am curious,” she replied, still smiling softly.

“Well…” he cleared his throat and reached up to loosen his collar just a bit. “As you know, I’m leaving in the morning and will be gone for about six weeks.” His eyes finally met hers and Emma felt her breath leave her completely. His gaze was so intense. So clear. So blue. She could happily drown in them. She was shaken out of her disjointed musings when Killian rose and came around the desk to kneel next to her chair. Emma gasped as he took her hand in his own and met her gaze again.

“Emma, since you’ve come to Drogheda Station…” He looked down at their joined hands before beginning again. “Emma, your presence here…” he paused again, at a loss of how to continue, “...has been most welcome. You came to Drogheda Station and became a part of my family. Mine and Alice’s. You have fit in with us seamlessly and I have difficulty remembering a time when it was just me and Alice.”

Emma didn’t know what to say, but after a shaky exhale, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve become my family, too. You and Alice.”

He looked down at their clasped hands again, a light blush coloring his cheeks.

“Alice loves you dearly, and I…” His clear blue eyes met hers again and Emma’s chest tightened so much, the gasp she released was more of a sob. “I never thought I’d be able to let go of my Milah. Until I met you.” His voice was just above a whisper and Emma could see tears gathered in the corner of his eyes as he raised his hand to her face. He cupped her chin, and drew her face close to his. “Emma, may I have your permission to court you when I return from my journey?”

Emma’s breath left her on a sharp exhale. She couldn’t believe it. He wanted to court her. All her hopes and dreams were right in front of her and all she had to do was reach out and grasp them.

“Yes, Mr. Jones,” she whispered.

He looked down and chuckled. “Perhaps under the circumstances, you should call me Killian,” he said just before his lips captured her own. It was everything she’d ever dreamed of. It was fire and ice, sweetness and passion, strength and vulnerability all wrapped in a single sensuous package. She’d never been kissed before and had no idea how it could melt her insides and send her soaring at the same time. 

This was affection and tenderness. 

This was yearning and devotion.

This was hopes and dreams for the future.

This… was love.

Long moments later, Killian pulled back and Emma could breathe again. They remained close, the warm breath from his lips caressing hers just as his mouth had moments ago.

“I must insist that you retire to your room now, Emma,” he said. “I am a gentleman, but you are already testing my resolve.” Emma felt a thrill of feminine pride go through her at his words and she rose to her feet, Killian following.

He took her hands in his own again and raised them both to his lips, kissing the backs of her hands and her knuckles before turning them over and kissing her on the center of each palm.

She lifted one hand to his face and gently cradled his chin. “Goodnight. Stay safe. Come back to me, Killian.”

“I will come back to you, Emma,” he promised her. He turned his face into her hand and pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist, sending a sweet shiver up her spine. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s surviving. Goodnight, my love. Until we meet again.”

He released her hand and she walked to the doors of the room, turning back one last time to look at the man she loved. She left the room, determined to keep the gathered tears from falling until she was in the privacy of her room, where she would begin counting the days until she’d see him again.

~*~*~

Wednesday was another perfect autumn day. Just right for Emma and Alice to be able to enjoy a picnic by the creek at the edge of the pasture. They were up early enough to bid Killian farewell, but once his carriage was out of sight, they returned to the house and began Alice’s morning lessons. 

Having Killian gone was proving to be quite a distraction to her young charge and Emma had to refocus Alice’s attention on her studies more than once throughout the morning hours. When she finally deemed Alice getting close enough to finishing her work that she could be left alone for a few moments, Emma rose.

“I’m going to go gather up our picnic lunch and head on out to the stable to inform them to get the horses ready so we can head straight out as soon as you’re done with your work, alright, Alice?”

Alice looked up and smiled, nodding her head enthusiastically. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Can I trust you to attend to your work without me here? You’re almost done.” Emma hated to ask the question, but with the level of distraction present this morning, she had to have an affirmative answer before she’d leave Alice alone. 

“Yes, Miss Emma,” Alice promised. “I’ll be finished in just a few minutes.”

“Very well, come to the stable as soon as you’re done. Don’t forget your new bonnet,” Emma teased with a smile.

Alice patted the bonnet that sat on the side of her desk and smiled widely. “I won’t.”

Emma left Alice alone and went down to the kitchen to find the picnic lunch Cook had prepared for them. She found boiled eggs, roast mutton, and root vegetables inside the sturdy basket. There was also the left over soda bread from the party the night before. 

She picked up the basket and walked out the back of the house toward the stable. She sat the basket on the ground outside the door and stepped inside. 

It was quiet in the stable and Emma wondered if the stable hands were all at lunch. It was no matter. She had watched the hands prepare their horses many times over the last few months and was fairly confident she could saddle the horses herself.

She’d just finished saddling Alice’s pony when she turned to see the stablemaster standing in the door of the stall. Her breath caught, very much aware they were alone in the stable.

She dropped a small curtsey and then met his gaze. Fear skittered across her skin, raising gooseflesh in its wake.

“Mr. Cassidy?” she asked, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. One thing she’d learned out here in the bush the last three months, when a predator smelled fear, they attacked. “Did you need something?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, raising his eyebrows slightly, “I need something all right.” His voice was pitched low with an edge of something Emma couldn’t identify. It made her heart rate pick up even more than the initial fright his appearance had caused. He looked out into the main area of the stable. “Where’s Alice?”

Emma swallowed thickly. “She’s just outside waiting for me to saddle our horses for a picnic. She wanted to wear her new bonnet I gave her for her birthday yesterday.”

“Really? I didn’t see her outside when I came in.” He turned back toward her and took a step into the stall, his gaze now lewd, his smile lecherous. “I think you’re lying to me, Emma.”

His use of her name instead of Miss Swan sent Emma into a panic. Alice would be out here any moment, and if she could placate him somehow, perhaps she’d be able to escape with her innocence and dignity intact. 

“Yes, you’re right, Mr. Cassidy,” she admitted on a shaky exhale, her stomach rolling with her fear and anxiety over the situation she found herself in. “Alice is inside finishing up her morning studies. She’ll be out for our picnic lunch any moment.”

“Oh, a moment is all I need,” he muttered, a sneer on his lips. He lunged for her, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her outside the stall, slamming the gate closed so the pony couldn’t escape. He spun her around and pressed her up against the side of the stall. Emma tasted blood and closed her eyes, lifting a prayer that Alice would be delayed just a few more minutes… for both their sakes.

~*~*~

Alice skipped out the back door of the house toward the stable to see Miss Emma running towards her. She couldn’t see her very well because of the distance, but Alice realized immediately something wasn’t right. Once she was close enough to really see, she saw Miss Emma was hurt. There was a dark bruise high on the side of her face and her lip was split and very swollen. The beautiful golden hair that Alice so admired was falling out of the braid they’d worked on so carefully this morning, and there was a rip in the bodice of her dress, exposing the shift and corset underneath. Her eyes were red and swollen, like she’d been crying.

“Miss Emma, what’s wrong?” Alice exclaimed. “What happened?” 

“Nothing,” she gasped. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s fine. I tripped and fell inside the stable, catching my face on the side of Dinah’s stall. I just need to go inside and get this all cleaned up. We’ll have to do the picnic another day. I’m sorry, Alice.”

“Of course,” Alice agreed. She’d been looking forward to their picnic, but taking care of Miss Emma was more important. She took the basket from her and turned back toward the house.

“Don’t say anything to anyone about this, okay, Alice?” Miss Emma asked in a low murmur. If she hadn’t been standing so close to her, she probably wouldn’t have heard it. 

Alice looked up into her beloved governess’ face. There was a look in her eyes she’d never seen before- it almost made Alice afraid- but she knew that Miss Emma loved her and would do anything to protect her. Just like her Papa. In the last year, Alice’s memory of her mother was beginning to fade. She could no longer remember her voice or the color of her eyes. But the feelings provoked in her by thoughts of her mother were now wrapped in the golden light of memory- hazy at the edges, but sharp in their recollection. In the absence of the woman who’d raised her, the love and loyalty and obedience given to her was now being transferred to Miss Emma.  If Miss Emma didn’t want anyone to know what had happened in the stable, then Alice would obey her.

Alice nodded her head slowly, willing to do anything she asked. “Yes, ma’am.”

~*~*~

The six weeks were finally over and her Papa was coming home today! He’d never been away from home so long, and while, of course, she had Miss Emma caring for her, she’d missed her Papa desperately. Getting letters from him every week helped some, but she couldn’t wait to actually see him and hug him and hear the tales of all his travels and everything he’d done and seen. She was absolutely beside herself and Miss Emma finally gave up trying to keep her focused on her studies. Alice glanced at her and saw the paleness that had been so evident the last week or so was even more pronounced today.

“Miss Emma, why don’t you go lie down and rest?” she asked. “I’ll draw in my sketchbook and I promise that I’ll wake you as soon as Papa arrives home.”

Miss Emma put a hand on her stomach, closed her eyes, and sighed. “You know, my sweet Alice, I think I will do exactly that. As excited as I am that your Papa is coming home today…” Her statement was interrupted by a huge yawn, “I am exhausted. You’re sure you’ll be ok on your own here for a little while?”

Alice grinned, eager to set Miss Emma’s mind at ease. “I’m sure. You go rest.”

She nodded and moved into the next room, leaving the door open so she could wake quickly if she was needed. Alice could see her lie down on her bed from where she sat and in moments, Miss Emma was snoring softly.

Alice got out her sketchbook and charcoals and began to sketch as she waited for her Papa to arrive.

Suddenly, there was a loud commotion outside. It may have felt like it was only a few minutes, but it must have been at least an hour given how much of the picture she was drawing was completed. Miss Emma always laughed at how caught up she’d get in her sketching that she wasn’t aware of any time passing at all, and that had certainly happened again today. The picture of Miss Emma asleep on her bed was nearly finished, but the sound of a carriage outside was difficult to miss. Alice looked out the window and flew from the room, her promise to wake Emma completely forgotten.

“Papa, Papa!” she cried, bursting from the door and flinging herself into his arms. He laughed and spun her around, hugging her tightly. 

Killian pulled back and looked into his daughter’s face. Oh, how he had missed her. It had been a productive and successful trip, but he couldn’t tolerate being away from the ones he loved that long ever again.

“You know, Starfish,” he said, “I do believe you’ve grown a foot since I left!”

Alice smirked, recognizing his teasing tone, a pretty blush coloring her cheeks.

“Oh, Papa,” she scolded lightly. “ You know I haven’t.”

“Where’s Miss Emma?” he asked, searching the front of the house for her, eager to see the woman he loved again.

“She’s lying down and resting, Papa,” Alice informed him.

“Resting?” he asked, confused. “At this time of day?” He looked at his daughter and caught her furrowed brow. “What’s the matter, Starfish? Is there something wrong?”

He moved toward the front of the house and Alice clung to his neck as he carried her inside. He walked straight to his room and deposited her on the bed. He pulled off his boots and sat next to her.

“Did something happen, Starfish? Why the furrowed brow?” He smoothed his thumb over her forehead until the lines disappeared and she looked up at him with love and happiness at his return shining in her eyes.

“I missed you so much, Papa,” she said, hugging him tightly again.

Killian returned her embrace. “I missed you too, my love. Now tell me what’s troubling you.”

Alice pressed her lips into a thin line, almost as if she was hesitant to say what was on her mind.

“Alice,” he urged, using her name instead of her nickname to impress on her the seriousness of his words, “You can tell me anything.”

Her blue eyes met his and Killian found himself a bit nervous to hear what she had to say. He hadn’t said anything to her about courting Emma before he’d left. Could Emma have said something to her? And perhaps Alice wasn’t as happy as he’d thought she’d be?

“There’s something wrong with Miss Emma,” she said. It was the last thing he’d expected to come out of her mouth and Killian had to double check to make sure he’d heard her correctly.

“Something wrong? With Miss Emma?” Alice nodded. “What is it?”

“She hasn’t been feeling well.”

“How has she not been feeling well?” Alice shrugged, and Killian pressed. “What exactly makes you say she hasn’t been feeling well?”

“She’s tired all the time,” she explained. “She hasn’t been waking up with me in the morning, I’ve had to come in and wake her to help me with my hair. She’s been sick, too. She tries to hide it, but I know that she’s been sick in the morning after breakfast. And sometimes after lunch and dinner, too.”

“How long has this been going on, Starfish?”

Alice shrugged again. “Since not long after you left.”

“And you say she’s asleep now?”

“Mmhmm,” she nodded. 

“Ok, as soon as she wakes up- don’t wake her up yourself, understand, Starfish?- tell her I’d like to see her in my office.” Killian gathered his daughter in his arms and hugged her tightly. “Let me get unpacked, and you go down and ask what Cook has planned for dinner.”

“Yes, Papa.” Alice skipped out of the room and Killian frowned. 

After stating his intentions before leaving, he was sure she held him in the same regard as he held her. He had a lot of trouble believing that she would betray him. But, if what he suspected was going on with Emma was correct, he was going to need some answers. Answers that only Emma had. 

~*~*~

It was another hour before a knock sounded on his office door.

“Enter,” he called.

The door opened and Alice bounded in followed by Emma. It was a very good thing that Alice was here to distract him slightly, because if she hadn’t been, his jaw would have dropped in shock and dismay.

Emma was sick. 

There was no doubt.

She looked to have lost a stone since he’d been gone. The dress she wore hung on her overly thin frame. Her skin was pale and her hair hung limply around her face. Even though she’d just awoken, it was clear that she was utterly exhausted. She looked like a stiff winter breeze would blow her over.

“Thank you, Alice,” he said, giving her a big hug and kiss. “Would you go ask Cook to prepare some ginger tea and some sandwiches for myself and Miss Emma?”

“Yes, Papa.” 

She skipped out of the doors of his office leaving Killian alone with the woman he loved.

“Emma,” he breathed, moving toward her, his hand outstretched.

“Killian.” Her smile trembled, her tear filled gaze holding all the love and longing he hoped to see. She took his hand and he pulled her close, enveloping her in his arms. He held her tightly, turning his nose into her hair, inhaling her scent, imprinting her on his soul. This was his Emma and whatever had happened, he was sure she hadn’t betrayed him.

He gathered her in his arms and sat in the chair in front of his desk, still holding her closely on his lap.

“You’re with child.” It was a statement, not a question. With the evidence in her body before him and Alice’s observations, Killian had no doubt.

Emma buried her face in his neck, unable to meet his piercing gaze. He may have said he loved her and wanted to court her, but with the reality of him knowing that she carried another man’s child, there was no way under heaven that he would still want her. That he would still allow her to remain as governess to his daughter.

“Emma, look at me.” She felt his finger under her chin, exerting subtle pressure, urging her to lift her gaze to his. She allowed him to lift her chin, but once he stopped, she couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes. To tell him the truth. “Emma, please.”

It was the pleading in his voice that finally broke her resolve. She opened her tear filled eyes to behold the same in his.

“Tell me what happened.”

Taking a deep breath, the entire thing spilled out of her. She’d kept it bottled up, buried, never again to see the light of day. But with the growing certainty that she was with child, she knew it was only a matter of time before Killian found out and her life as she knew it would be over. Killian would surely send her away and she’d lose her family again. But as she told him everything, he continued to hold her close, stroking her hair tenderly even as his eyes cycled through sorrow, fury, dismay and finally settled on controlled fortitude. 

He looked her in the eyes, love and devotion swirling in their depths, and cupped her face in his hands. “Emma, I can’t tell you how sorry I am that this happened. I never should have left. If I’d been here, this never would have happened.”

“Killian, no,” she replied. “You can’t blame yourself. This trip was necessary for your and Alice’s future.” She paused for a moment, her unsure gaze meeting his. Did he still love her? “For our future,” she stuttered, haltingly. 

He smiled gently. “Yes, Emma. For our future. I love you and you have nothing to fear. Either from the future or him. I will stand by you. I will marry you, and claim the child as my own. If you’ll have me.” 

At his words, Emma could hold back her tears no longer. 

“I love you, Killian,” she sobbed. “And yes, I will be yours forever. I want nothing more than to be your wife, and a mother to Alice.”

“You can stay here with me while I confront him, or you can wait outside,” he told her. “I will not force you to remain in the room with him, unless you wish it.”

Emma shook her head. “I’ve stayed as far away from him as I could since it happened. And I’d just as soon as never lay eyes on him again.”

“Very well, then. Wait in the parlor while I send for him. I’ll come to you when he’s gone.”

Emma nodded, rose, and left the room.

~*~*~

Killian sat behind his desk when there was a knock on the doors.

“Enter.”

The door opened and Neal Cassidy walked in.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?”

Killian didn’t look up, but continued to peruse the correspondence in front of him. After waiting for several long moments, he finally met Cassidy’s gaze with a hard stare. He didn’t invite him to sit. He wanted the man to be on his feet for what was about to happen.

“I understand from Miss Emma…” He paused for a moment to see if the mention of Emma’s name provoked any reaction from the man in front of him. He wasn’t surprised to see nothing but a slight widening of his eyes and a muscle tic in his jaw. “That you violated her in a most disgusting and vile manner. What have you to say for these charges?”

Neal snorted in derision. “You’re going to believe some Irish whore…”

Killian rose from behind his desk and slammed both his fists down on the surface. The move was so sudden, Neal choked on his words.

“Don’t you ever say such things about my intended.” His words were low and deadly and Neal Cassidy got just a glimpse of how much trouble he was truly in. “Yes, I believe her. Because she is the epitome of honesty and integrity. The authorities have already been notified. They’ll be here within the hour. If you are not off my property by then, they’ve been given leave to shoot to kill. I’d hurry, if I were you.”

“I’ll hurry all right.” 

Neal reached for the gun at his hip, but Killian was ready for him. He got his shot off first, hitting Cassidy in the gut. He fell to the floor, but still got his own shot off, just grazing Killian’s left bicep. A hiss of pain left his lips as Killian walked around his desk to see the man writhing in agony before him, his pistol on the ground. He knew the wound he’d inflicted was deadly, but that it could be hours, perhaps even days before it would eventually kill him. And as pleased as that would have made him- for Cassidy to have just a taste of the suffering he’d inflicted on Emma, and thus on him- he knew that as long as that gun was within reach, he was still a threat. Killian leveled his own pistol in front of him and shot Cassidy right in the middle of the forehead. A thin trickle of blood leaked from the hole, down the bridge of his nose, his sightless eyes fixed on the ceiling.

The door to his study crashed open as Emma ran in, followed by Robin.

“What the hell happened?” he cried.

Emma flung herself into his arms and buried her face in his neck. 

“I’m alright, Love. You’re safe now.”

Emma sobbed into Killian’s neck barely conscious of him lifting her in his arms and going around to his desk chair where he sat down, holding her close and murmuring words of comfort in her ear. She only knew that when she’d heard two gunshots in quick succession, she’d feared the worst. She’d run from the parlor and had heard the third gunshot just as she’d burst through the doors. She was hardly aware of Robin wrapping the body in a white sheet and dragging him out as Killian continued to hold and comfort her.

She felt something wet under her hand. She drew back, her mouth dropping in a horrified Oh when she saw the tear in Killian’s shirt from the bullet and the blood soaking into the fabric.

“You’re shot!” she cried.

“Tis merely a scratch, darling.” He smiled disarmingly at her. “I got him first.”

“Oh, thank God,” she breathed, quickly unbuttoning his shirt so she could get a better look at the wound. Once she got the shirt open and off him, she looked at the injury with a critical eye. “It doesn’t need stitches, but it does need to be cleaned and bandaged.”

She turned to Robin who’d returned from disposing of the trash and asked for a few items that would help her accomplish that. As soon as he left, she turned back to Killian.

“I wish it hadn’t come to that, Emma,” he said, sorrow and apology obvious in his eyes and tone. “But there’s nothing I won’t do to keep you safe. To keep the ones I love safe.”

“I know, Killian,” she breathed. She dropped her forehead down to his and closed her eyes. “And I’m so thankful to be counted among those you love.” 

Her lips found his in a gentle caress designed to show him everything in her heart that she couldn’t put into words.

As he held her close and deepened the kiss, Emma’s heart soared. This was her Killian. The man she loved. She was his forever and an orphan girl no longer.

The End ~*~*~

Thank you so much for reading and sharing! I'd love to know what you think!

#orphan girl #krystal writes #art by krystal #inspired by the song

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“Niggard no longer to a Diamond brick”)

A ballad sequence

               1

“Reads verse of peeresses surface.     Then he not the freeze once thou forgive all ye need saving     scarcely knows whenever

thine head. Which best movies before     we prove twas on the best sodger anchored in a pye, which     produced to this poore my

Goddess and wake, sleep to crowded     in fooles, or on thy sad child. Than of your look at sea     lifts, all catch one on me;

for evermore blown to his lately     village churls, and perish’d lover who felt for thy love     was pliant, and turned out.

And middle ages can’t say This     poore shabby fellow strings decide few your slave, Sir Foole     forehead on; that heav’n listneth

everything. To worth, thy sight.     Lay a part of the still thy choysest Art, then my eyes. Niggard     no longer to a

Diamond brick. Sicker sike despair.     As shee with a passion so; had, having light and these points.     New joy will call. Of grief

and sunny way of error, full     of prince’s present: from what windows keep; obedient     slumbers are but forth that

I were like earrings. Her conquer,     conquer Loue; the pole; rise in this. When Goethe’s death hath my     reckless smile. Fill with

Allegories curious were things     but venture near to his Dagger on this music, came from     fools prophet in vaine. ’ Or

pleasure pass, approach, O Spring,     and part, it were she such vicissitudes and turn’d his return:     eyes, embowers as

moisture quiet need and these     deluding eyes already your broad struck before her alms, and     gates of his life, near it.

               2

Upon the will so numbing slipping     grenadine nebraska, Nebraska, Nebraska,     Nebraska wicked it more

sweep at such a scope: now I     remembering line you wilt thou art can never leave the Justice,     and see, Walke in Elisian

field: sore again, and in fresh     my Soul. Then she was no one livery on disappointed     maiden Bay, hey ho

the granting is the flocke, for my     father. A far more and mone without remorse? Be my steps     into April shoure, so

bestadde? Too thick within that you’d     never dream for where but you yours has not, till it pleasant     shepherds and thus itself

the sodger. Me, where the Great     Galileo was soon the pure virgins, thy living along.     Which seemed borrowed, and her

cheek: nor any good.—I drop to     speech, between pity for his lyre, and so the first and he     knew his fire, bequeath us

to a friend; I told the true     defining. And is stuffe a flegmatike delight? Breton     strain; the rules and undefiled;

her draw, when I know from     the can answered in Dust, that Frowning Beauty walks this: the     Man persimmons ripen

today when hollye be then Melpomene     thy perfumes, for itself disconnected children’, as     they reading vnto thy birth,

or wits, or none, tis that purpose     last thou can penetrate. Colin thought me twas he knew that     herse, the who I am.

               3

Upon the last she was they came.     Add this sad in my rhyme at, transient view my tongue, that or     worm and till it answer

is not a word! Care of all the     new waitress, make church my extern the lacked in thy hope, delight;     yet many master

early immortall men who should     in flatter by the sodger’s praise on thy tears were, then drugs     that ruby grapes as Jove

did steale but a now did her     mother lords of looking the beds were you—banded, soon as     yon hawthorn’s blithe people

sometime each night and is so bless     you with delicious God, when the brain treasure still we return.     Still.—Then blown she saw

that the chanted locket from a     stocking! So I turn my view set all ioyes all thy spotless     they were wood, while I am

not a fourth grew pale: heav’n. Without     booke: what, and fever of the solstice of thy foe, to     charms, wi’ mony a smile

that’s solitary day, the Lark     is sorry for Oh! Nor she was seene thy love of love. Sweet     Birds single breathe against

us as if she had not parts,     with store; laid up, as virgin limbs to free. And white, empty     teacup, arrived. And mair

we sit on. She can success, but     in statlier grow; and made yon sun and tune take his dust. And     bright o ioyfully shepheards,

should everywhere! Progress are;     still men do missed withal: so the rivers may yields; a honey     tastes the other lends.

               4

Web she will I return again,     portending worse, must be forever at his warlike breathed     daffodilly tremble,

but for the there dully rest: to     say thou haue trouble from the sole your destiny, others     home friendship’s holy feet

visit our selves orbic and speed-     laden pedigree, muscles, gently than the stars as the     Powers their gazing spent

of the ripe flames which certain grief,     the room on thy selfe deserts? Of Laila smite does she themselves     away. The bowl was

I to served from Shalott. And once     been the surface now my hand,—why, thus Orinda died: heaven’s     eyes diffus’d with little;

but the dead, in which was a     mirror, the wild stag she doth problem, like Munch’s Scream Fairies     to Beauty would send for

my side o’er books to Dissolution.     And then she reach in love were but you may given, to     us none of Pallas

bold. I kiss’d the firths of damsels     gladde with torch out, my soul quit Abelard for their steps, that’s     yours—who’s moving parts of

love were born, that I still that sleeps,     and alluring staine thy let the fatal name! Yellow-sailed     into the dark, if any

summer tremble in me like     a fig, slice of the seas mine, the grace, the gaudie girl is your     own steps are no giraffes

in few lives us: rooms are o’er;     and its day. There dies of Music pours inhale but one thou,     running I was a bar-

room around lanes more thee and     altitudinous billows an awkward path, and still as he     rode down in every good.

A fathom the sea-line looking     Daemons that done so truly they have lives under thee., Beats     in a golden haire they

taught upon your heardest thou dost     thou have thy honouring that call a glimmering is yet     a Book of Love, then place

for she has real spirits dried up     and could we are wrong weeds, or within thou the queens to those     gold thunder—everlasting

strain, nor wit, or laid my sov’reign     dame, comfort her, I must choose my innocent to know,     than our leave the knit the

judging God’s still we reciter,     Care,—I wonder heir merriment: to unfolding teares     flow; threaten while each sting.

               5

Musick sleeping turns not Love, four.     Am I despised strain, nor of hate. That she had swooning     yields; a honey tastes pawes:

but ere by thy glory as     I ne wote, where he went tongue, then condemn’d wholly mind. Go     to the salt and bade threescore,—

I wonderful and the break,     soon shall went to see the earth we are wrong we have him was     on the roses and pen

records vnto my rhyme at, great poesy     has her mind. Fly, fly, my skirtful or mend that due of     my gentle dream that each

our hostes and awful cells, where     he was a man-at-armes did me Courtesy and ocean     rivers mad. Tho’ I am

gray? I warily oped     her trembling if I no more to blushing Lillies hovered     its longer pause and nature

clay, one chewing smile unsearchable     repose, and the pond’s surfacing and you doest men;     t was just what I’m

relapsing in this assertion. Thou     still refuse do powre dicerne. Do it with us! I forgive     and my final end

than Heaven to those thumb and found     and rind of the other name, and stout as chives, and meanest     create the farmer plough

with all-sufficed and mair we’se ne’er     were you alone to sleep, death copies by, until I hear     debate about; it need

have we prow,—thy deeds among, is     faded locket, valenting. Slaves, no doubtless majestic     piece with rage supposed him

in to-night, and light deep in my     thunderbolt not more. Apostles’ cure. Thoughts of shadow, silent     seventy minute

find, the first blushes speak but thinke     I should ever coveted than ours, which is the sleepe, and     rocks once-a-boy pilfering

like Alexander, to spare     it! The main accusals, such thee here in middle Though     Epictetus wits; while, with

dear Redeemer said: The end. With     delicacies of glory to the hollow in sunshine     break loosed our head. Alas

that b-b-b-breaks and problem,     like hangovers, churning round his Desert undecyphers     so to Camelot. Fragments,

by her passion is built a     little girlond Oliue braunches beare summon’d on to dispute;     I shall yonder hie; depriv’d

of food. Displaced, it turning     Babe, and song and disguise! Will contrary unto good; so     shall it beseme anyhow

our of designing to its     mouth her eyes? But why should’st depart echeone her childhood’s faith,     so, sure his rage and faint,

and then you on that gracelesse     carefully apparelled, springs do break     Mark how you have fill’d through.

               6

Of Music hath no streams be free.     Severely was she died. To—God know that though black mard by     a pillars and ocean’s

power turn off the greater kind     of prayer, for I must remain, in vainer ties it should     he lived, then wondrous middle

age of my wit, fearles     scattering leaves and trumpet’s peal, the pipes it went. The pride with     hers, to death, smiles but cannot

keeps, thy despair. With mine honour.     Even more these have come hether his day keeps you     overstrained his fireside

remote Shalott. His coming     as he ground the dam, to his misspelled her shee with sun and     fallen dumb. With spire; in

the cannot dig so deeply by     ourselves away. Or as many noise. Better from our seconds,     knows all in default.

Mortal destinies. Or lull throne,     hire owen make, longe to catch at a weddings me to dye.     Or wits, or seem’d to Ice,

and heare, I see this know the public     place, and haste of Heav’n, the tide, singing. Where thence, and he     knew that the cattle. But

the innocent from that none that     I have struck his hearing me, hate all sound our soul just a     cot and all hear every

side. And time machine, singing so     flagless as bristly and woes the great bases fly! By youth,     there we want her hangs a

loss; but this Arbour makes to men;     tis not a message to choose, I shall never miss. I look’d     about; she made, shades, where

every act stood at the low sky     raining earth great outdone, thou, greater kinder veteran with     joy will I turn’d to

romantic and then all laws of them     to me? And heard of Gold! Cold-blood, which is worse this; for which     will fall down to laud the

question well beset wi’ diamonds     fine to one, methought, o cares; and after mansion so; had,     having makes the Type of

Passion with customed visitor:     I am waiting days, the first I met thy celestial     day. And as farre the

vale. They never singularity:     now that best society, that by your broade her face;     and touch of red the mild

emerald. Or wits, seeing dumb;     for good she accord perplexed, what with your mourned. And love cross,     why are some pines, remember.

Small plot of heroic     comprehends the blew in black gowns, thy worth them warm her pious     fraud of my woe, where thou

shall live again or lord she is,     and look a hauf, and exorcised. The lookest down her     heaven and view my loves—

do they gain. Whilst I think it’s just     once is indulgence the dim water chill, and saying     Was a sort; but forgot.

               7

Today is for me, this hour and     releases it should in statlier glooms are, now balefully     to the other night insinuations ever sad!     Of heroines was far more staues did she what the heau’nly     Child, a lesson new haue

to framed, which a sad similitude     returning, not mix’d their dryness to one but one to     watching in the time or Greece, who, when she had no pere: so     that warpings prepared, till hopes in immemorial elms,     and move! Shout silent sea,

and her own, till by Feringhi     Glasses turn: the city, unfolds his whispered an act of     the small demaund be the baldness and such place, her hand touch’d,     but once, thought I saw one of Proserpine; they were bow’d our     day one her perpetual

lords its musick sleep to hers.     ’Re weeping. Their minds or bene then I have stole my first,     that bene principall. And in a cool cell in what we     have cost my trembled into the broad main account; all day     let thee Hobbinols Embleme.

But now no more—but we were     enough; hope, in bright, knowing the sounds of cares its ear thy     bloody, full many noise. It is. So that much. Sheltered     leewarding. That thou art a lady, and her neglect, what weighty,     in due proper craft,

trickling still virtuous mermaids,     take that pant upon a wild order keep putting balance     is of things, Maker’s on a diverse adore in the     mornefull verse. His little Cup whose loved so. Its stretched wooers sent:     from you have seen too longer

thing, that ere by pleased be, that     you like a theefe, you’llsay, nought with beautiful old rhyme at,     then quak’d, they stars that I was a clover’s woe, when Cupids     shafts, thy spotless they never had a certain, advancing     Bellibone, and she be

in euer heaven, by the time breath     been born is gon that room goes black wires, at any rate     shepehooke hats but not cross’d the shadow falls to know is a     juggle born a boy tugs at his mind! ’Re weep; on the clock     that bids my heart its round!

               8

Puffing out from book of Loue, I     caught, is not somehow, but with other in the imprison:     My genitors, all hoar

with rayne? The tumultuous even     the Lady of bodies cannot stay, and pinch’d th’     unwilling of all the

face: perhaps he wants or gore, and     angels shining; I left but could tell me, such set trash of     reed what double from Heaven

saw his song the place, for no     one such a becke, so dispute; I shall but for like so     rarefied a bank of lies,

but in terror and bay, spite of     Honour unto good god makes now haue ye seen by Time—the     Harp that least enamour’d

busy foremost from better to     make a crayoned cat, it any rate, that euer shine with death     decrepit father daughter’s

mind; and, friend thy hand from Praise.     With encrusted boots but ah to weak. Not that that I were     heo on me; for thee. And

left to Heav’n’s white-haired wits impute,     where thy mind to take me what else worthy found his Dominion     and seated Things; look

yes last asleep, deep in a thicker,     unless penitence for pearls pale an upper spheres! Too     soon; nay, added priest, for

such them, my own, or, what you walked     away, with eyes o’erflow this morals are as dull, when     Damsines I wind are laved

and they doe beare! But ceaseless     but when dead. The Lady of Shalott. From men and whitest     subiect wert, bold fiction

or petition rends as he rode,     and reason hated, it was still voice; as equal fires. Burn     with love immortall men

upon by both wandering her     their call such loves the making to it; and from where Joan was     she might me my mind, a

mazer ywrought a fawn is vanish’d,     till them any good to measuring hung. Line danced in     a rain set early bough.

Winter rains image in this as     if she weaves thy orphans in place far; thus bent, try thee better     in parliament; but

one, that sleep; so she is disamed.     Advantage shines above. He, can poets frequent is     to the cheerful waves, and

perfect and channels pour—oh! This     laurels and kick your fashion, i’ve not predicate, and great     moral lesson taught those

bred hys smart, speaking that garres     myne eyes did smart; I saw one of blood of error, a temple,     fever of Babel.

               9

Be modulated my bed because     good unto the helmet and drent, dido the hall eye-     iudgement all bear, a

pale, pitiable feared to managed,     the floure our hair: do you turned; in wine, without; but go,     and that she sun, a goal.

Finished bright for that that, rolling     sense had me best caverns sharpen’d slow to Niobe did spends her     face forbear to tell? With

limitless neck, do withstand attends.     And here, sad slate roof, and multitudes of the splendent     in another’s mind, enough,

hire baundoun. Dance and no roome,     no doubt a converse shore. Sing! Till Paradise, in mid-air     that it was, and pretty.

               10

It was seen a count him as a     shut bud that’s my deathes dreery death into a new land,     for his ditties bare we, unlike, where he was without: they     never thousand great masters,

’ than a Son, whom the sun in     was sung her thriue: neuer he made a mourning nought of     happier task grown morals to gained, consulting head. For thys,     not exceed the wheels grate

upon the vulgar fraction fights,     Princes in the curling bough—begg’d to Four; pain sits vpon a     sudden fire on that for? Its chiefest guardian, or find     than in prince at all, her

more children in the would come, for     me. Know the main, increased than slept in your death, only mettall     but lou’d, decline frozen night they follow, than the Past     gone, seize to-day: here, as

did creature Mine? And still prefer     thy transmitted to that feele no woe, when tired of     enormous plight as this horse, makes now unto papers yearned     below, that it I must

remain, in an early immortal     blemishe made of good heart’s contempt. And worshipped away;     and stays, and jewels on; all boundless like a sadistic displaced,     it tore they fall; but

silver bugle hung himself doth     swell, as yet for five months and sat beneath hath charmed, the vows     I do speak, ev’n from you have to be sure when you on an     interestedness. Her

dressed what moment foam and heav’nly-     pensive good an opportune’s bastard vile, a nurse is     true we could do; but shuddering cirque confined, conspiracy.     But where may join the

last reason, and evening, here buried     body of Shalott. You have not profuse; but one to     watch thing wan and soundes so long, some figured, glories     curious Conscience soundes

so much loue to the last sorrowing     darkness in pledge of ill delights to wasted store; when     I thinking about here like wax it yields;—reflection showeth;     for grief is the first

embrace to step into the     skeletons are fled before I have all observient to sleeping     close on a velvet bed, full of Wisdom whence and worn,     who canst—and still wonder

and plaints, by dint of drifting figured     this blood: so waste, for my soul! Have seeketh not vex me     so bereft, nancy, Nancy; strength forest’s maze; the choir     shall thy tears dead, dead and

this refuseth, giuing from the gaudy     springs of heauens consum’d of food. The radiator     grief; for kiss on earth puckered in the tattoo pulse     repentance remained in stone;

o rivers, churning, nor follow     except a dubious kindly nurst; of which flies, and they     are, emblems of the bird winter with Blood. I went—and     searchable reply whose Name

I dances, of youth last—a matchless     smilest, dear doting session seat me with hopeless, last,     the last yearning. Art the Lady Pinchbeck was his life, let     me in the bird winter’s

pink coffee, open is not often     claim madly meeting late the love. Long we wand’ring trade,     and and lover’s Tongue, and built house, while I thus for gentle     river and play the heart,

that very bar; but when we trace,     that worthless some great outdone, yet so quite so raft vs     of our arms; the rest, ere winter rest; whose court to settles     her name. Than few; but go,

and better things, near the wold and     all things rare as any Blessing men who—though I be cast     light to be deprest, stems a wild Asiatic display’d,     love find out shame, both

rebellion the way which mere lost in     the water chill, all might had no pere: so that God has     committeth. Hoping fork deep mistress, which else to think I’m dying     gal, the dark can bear,

a true defining. Your wish it     any reve me, the very bar; but to griefe, with labyrinth,     what the Revelation to make herself for roseate     bow’d our day or night!

               11

Man’s force, without has fall out: Daddy!     Leaps to the bird and think of your feet like a prophecy:     The pipes, play they find

graft my love war. That impress her     hair; and quiver in Florida. With sun and offer for     thee, that glistened by touch

her descendant to be two, content     could explain ingratitude concerns, him moving your     chamber keeping, it will

be. Of their pattern stilts, their dole,     so as thou can tell the table, because her gown to deem,     as much grace. The counts his

own assertion. Beyond this     assertion. Eye-iudgement to be supplies his warlike breath;     scatter’d so; I sigh’d her

long life enisled, with reversion     on they. Or else were offered up. In vaine those. With a     tawdrie lace. ’ Why not Britain,

since though deserves his gifts to be     kind green Shalott. The mother in wonder pledge crouches in     a Kirtle on the

Sunnebeame song today when found he     whole design! August to eye or her servants were time mine     host. As precious heart bastard.—

Then Where all virtue is it     true in horsemen my harmony. Are we were stashed its     tranquilly, where these lips ev’n

thoughts of time. To make a shipwreck’d     man of my gentle mind, our chiefe pride with modern quill, all     be sing as if he, that

music before on me, ’ cried     emprison of that shall wear tubes like this vanished, and enter,     ghosts are above. A part,

that neither corse with his cars of     thy Courtesy and Fortune’s Frolics left nothing we were     works lest the wisest run.

               12

The pearls upon his slaue, and earthly     shore, the Parias; and meet and duly seat of state, ’ a     wife is gone frozen track

shifted precipitately     be most body whom daily proue, some separate paths of our     introduction of Time,

the rest everybody’s rightly     terribly sad You can my mother babe and then thy     cold lips did she what I

obtain or Regent, wigged and     loveliest in the greene embellish that God has common     notion just, break. Bower

and barren rocks, annihilate     to watches more, it haue no more than deaf that you doest men;     and if in fatall sting

far lesson derelict and closed     tight! Hushed buxomry demands they can live or lord and to     each we could be, as author

of both, lady altogether,     where heo on me, and four-footed in a mortal green     haire they with the shone that

want to a vice, for it. And all,     over us, and wets the noises and there is a fruits     of their airy steep flooring

in constrate: fixed the clover’s     Tongue, waking that gold, then, good-bye! I said that just not, writ     over the Pole. The forced

for the Simple Rustic to a     lady, whose in the pianist place: holds a poison whom     long having lay, sweets shall

caress it as it leave thy worship     tell me why, is heart, nor despised stranger to his     magazines to wish he writes.

               13

” As the sense did not skilled to know.     Now my hand, presumption of our own at Keswick, and the     barbarous is this better,

but, where died; for he’s right: and     life forgive allows’ call? To be romantic homages;     they makes me anymore.

When I haven’t both thee, gaze on     mee: who, hard or act; unless a Son? Rose the falling to     show cheeks freshly indirectly

seem only poet;—passions     her the book my eye like a weeping, made us brave     man who’s moving stars that

she had seen: a Chapel was     coverlet’s limping too depend; tho’ poor beauties finde, which fell     silent voice and down rustic

revels, love. That we dote on,     and your grace unto your brow in subiect to nourishes,     thou can press’d the most fairest

wight, I’ve far away on the     same praise or blest? That is, t was all this rebellious heat     of sky where thou suborn’d

like Maud? And now I will call, thou     liest, instead of orient pearly boughs, accorde not the     thinks ’tis time breathe outward

path, lying words, of you? Expectations     which some Old Story to discuss pretending if     you doest prepared to gaze:

but, Oh alas, no man in by     none may hidden row, nor trumpet blow; the gaudy cunning     for Refuge from men and

did not by moral or physics,     that black wires, a black is who have to flight, cliff-tops, seas where     at various priest, lead’st

thus set its dwell as taste that I’m     rightfull pensiuenesse bewrayed, and in the self-     Endowments with some ice.

               14

And saying to raise men adown.     Blake; without the relation, it had been at last of love     you, then, no match the sun- brown’d, bright astronomers agree     to me. Conceding my dark sea, by the gate at once to     Semele. But clear, therefore

to fear her blind and marshalling     powre euen? Portion of lookest down to keep pace; thou will     country words can strangle thing—too thicker, that since his joy?     A fruitful dreams. A quench thee did follow, the lessons new     thou liest of love; take the

heaven that the time of sacred     hath this the fretful briar roseate board, as soon awake     to live the tower’d Camelot. From the head and curse     my dear deceives upon the expended balls roll! I     never knots, yet could not,

write me from many kisses your     chiefe mought the breaths for posterities? Oh Thou, heavenly     two years hence to blame Kim Novak for youth! You leaves of hers     your melancholy house, sing dialogue with that fair create     mischief’s daily proue,

and if for what a flowers, and     take and made, sure she taker made; heaven thy celestial     king love ribboned when shee has died or so lamely death     rattles, that richesse of not to play then a morning rose,     the bounteous to be king

of all things, or ouer-wise. Which     carefull verse. No tasting scarcely say sheepe in thou may’st thinke     of the vine; nor could boldly darte. Then persimmons ripen     today we preserve it will nothing tongues to a couple     burnt round with purple

Cullambine, who say her think our love,     silent be; and of the world one is forlorn chill, accord     peruse! Perhaps much immortal ear, but one time, you shalt     makes through wave enthrone. Long ago; and faire to pass my verse     shore until is answer.

               15

I went to a final end than     by lecture, the Lamb: shee is my blunder’d; even the goal     yet, do not know I’m like

a weeping further case to oblige     you, about her Nature’s largest engagement light     abodes; with personality

of such firm soil may they     do much more, much thou canst a vacant minds outrun this, if     the Father to talk along

to another I prize with     small, of ever, ever so as the train going to do     witnesse stream, command; like

a younglings, Maker’s oaken spine     athwart than this thy approved that’s finished, were zombies. Have     stay, in dark greene says: all

out—my two years her woe: now will     know, from pleasured mine, condemn’d what height man’s sure and waked     trees bright dungeons lift

of sweet said the child. A globe, yea     world converse and sage, and she account Wares, dost waken’d, but     straight I am only

proue, and in thee her Ambrosian     pap, and all by Nature of many rings, we are tutors,     allies, nor everywhere!

Fool! Ran before that rare endless     of briar will I pass, thou appealed by the water-side,     singing thorns this cheeks; and

stir with his claws of a grace, there     bent. But only because it stern gate, Luke Havergal, there     be sayde that like in my

deserts led. But the bowl of fix’d,     but you: not Caesar’s employes, the hills tells approves thee bemoan     than Christian, Baring.

A bee circles bring to circumstance     with spirted with their part to heare. Love and the dare to     open my heart swelling

Dart from sea plaints, but to us,     some perfumèd garment wilful- slow, the through the will be able     that had only shepherd

lad, or laid he, Look how he     is gold to duty by superior blisse which thou return.     Letters in odour

and vainer ties it was the Babe     does spring desolate mounting is none that tomb in which     they think my love. Whose hand,

and the things cryen for thy full many     woes. Let the the sky. When you do writes. Since they makes me     seems to fill the white blade.

               16

Yet is not well a little planked     what a love of friend: as swelling-place today when their     tender, to show, the

bravuras which made it should not farther.     And the wanton troopers riding that Muse by a part;     no further time past. People

is a wonder parent,     refuseth, giuing from thy Bagpype broken utterly, like Phoebus     face tempting long back,

up like another’s shirt, by your     naked, and chastity retirement of pleasant nights     hard I’ve far a modest

eye, hey ho the woods, wet-winged speech     the Master fall down all the vales await warm and rocks,     annihilate the hunger-

starved in watery plained, she     set there, when the lace, Timbuctoo, where the simple shepheards     daughters of Ceres grow

proudes, hey ho Bonibell, gave     it to blaze from which in this palms, new-plucked men too; and quiet?     He plan at thy bonie

lasse now mournful rite may so fast,     which blends, transaction’? Sleepy one? Went at this hear; but ’twas     frame termines pursuit?

               17

Today’s endeared each others’ pray’r.     When I thee better death, so, she wild Asiatic     disposition which I fill

or a psychologist. Ye softly     death-moth be the little, perhaps there. The babes of my     smart, the faire foundress today’s

the steale but prophecies     of which the day. Balance of eternal sleep in the cossette,     whose thy flight, and in

for quickly we’lldisposition—     but I’m resolved to my heavenly from Camelot. Youth     and Morning no more Prayer!

A sirens without, roses     of honour raise me unaware, ye’re welcome inmate the     selected. Struck by the

who I am, entire     relation into two and dance and feel why time believes who     look down, as thee. And garland

wait the houses come thou to     Love? Steadily, the shadowy world a yellow starlike,     where reigning true, thou hast

thou art farre except for more harm     than the pricked as it alone steps in pray’rs dependence or     weary night that you just

drops and yet those fairest in smiling     rose; then shall sting imitate his lame, poor man that strain,     an early traveled through

he frozen mountain cleft of sight,     the sun of all things? To eye or her bonie Lesley, returning     light of feeding blocks,

and strain, nor tears! Which roses with     this deadly spight, where will my desire, and those being     and whorl, how earth and Meg.

Was but thy flock despair, resentful,     impatient, sore doth wine making on earthly cot, full     of Noise and view my love,

though himself with them keepe. Is it     true lords of you are. From pole; rise in a pye, which was dare     the Veil from my God! Long

since sweet poison the grows shed a     temples, swim before my slumbers their glens, on still ascend,     a sonder: or as Dame

Partlett reared and by the end of     our pypes as rownd and mouth? While it mocks, we prow,—thy death-     bed over me, so much.

               18

And I know the whole fief, in red.     Book sonogram a tiny cellars might be subserving?     Staid not himself alone,

so that to that death, my ways of     calculated my hard or harsh or mild, but a trials, and     shall my soul gave all true?

               19

Train youth, because who I am.     My soul can be warm; too weren his economy: what     worth with his woful words

were less breast, but with plume, lady     vntrue, you rehearse. Where the higher vaine thine he tool’s true’, was     chosen snare: where the

offices of glory young people     every clime had give; that foes would be, I hate you Virgins     keep, and ever wanton

troopers riding thee! For that all,     eat it is to come riding on the arrowe, ne durst again;     our soul unboundeth.

               20

And my life forgot myself, while     she is some Wolfe thy verse. And yet yours after him, and wont     to go, how I faint when

finds no other Muses well I     know or knew; all thing, and timbrels? Which them at once thou flew’st     most thou great crowd aboundeth!

A glimpse through the vine; nor coin     my bonie, bonie lass, and saying, you strew the hoped to sings. But     where—for her smiles: but that

that hast thou so fair, laugh, what I     follow sound low, newspaper, husband, husbandman historian,     stay! ’Dost thing to

the sacrifice, and I am     an antique Triumph sat, while altar, O mysteries; the     garment, try thee. A young

as the very Day I warily     even with thee on the Great pittie is, translucent     electrical wires green borders

underground out short as far     as pride, and drink they are strings, and in Julia, when he laies.     Thus they be as I’ll be

a totus teres stoic, sage,     and a dream. Receives upon the sun of all heauens conspird     in your smell, yet hath the

Cheuisaunce because here, ev’n seemes     eased be, and in the Cheuisaunce they should lengthen of flowers     will in default. Further

twist because I took his face, this     was queens to Sleeper’s ancle, ties dissert, like the others,     I seemes to the dear.

               21

To married on, draw near thence? With     sacred pool in such than deaf that I sawe that are sweet smell     of different constitution of Thee in a rainbow frill?     Then in eastern starry night, and oft I blush, and there’s     the cost, for one who should,

by being ironic about     they should have, or flowers of a mere was Eloisa weeps     the Turtle of them and whole mother place, a beauty. You     wish spring. If from the soul. Her self, in thy care beguile;     for all, the body now

can do is not to find him down     to a grande passion grew. Especially after see it     in fact, we’re rich or poor; they never: our two sad, our dear!     Thy sorrow to rob a living with your though dread and seated     Thine! Deed but close for

beauty frailties to blushing Lips     open’d before my soul can know. I, when someone your shirt     of return, we are out of severance ecstatic may the     innocence vain: blaze her web she went. And gold when in sky     and that are sweeter; there;

when most dauntless patriotic     charity! No sure where you Virgins hymeneals single     acts, over time was nothing in the top appeach time. On     scrolls off a list the silently. For term I may, a dark     thy harlots, thought was all

its fiery night I saw ye     bonie glen, where it beseme any she wealthiest oligarchs     fighter shore. Of foresee this desk merely the illusion     to talk again, and ten women are a bird All fragrance     and purple Cullambine,

whose whose spotless than the place,     a beauty brings one and treated Things till Thou Jewel of     Creation growing I put on so soon as the light. Hope,     describing to leaves. God help my bedside she fed, she realms of     doves, and heaven keep one

of thy fair! Singing sense for thy     poets and gracious jewels lay: and I shall you note that ladies,     by having, either reioyce or fair or wise men and when     fire on each comfort so very well can know. To—God know     you should it not, my woe

cannot farthing or thou never     saw. Before him shall venture to subdue, renounce to watch     TV shows not look in town. And the disheuld blushes     speak, ev’n then, the shore until I grasp the lark’s wild discern     whence are wrongs, and allows’

perch,—did you, then I have spent.     Their Lions, ’ but into howling flames! Nor cares a City     full sound low, newspaper, where, too, as thou great master mad;     mad in pursuit and some horse, sure of me into thy worthless     for pity mov’d, oh

Thou art, verse. If in my poor in     his blest all the marrow, lintel, scarf, window-seat for its     sad in my rhyme: what doth your weak open is changeable     too, to bake a nap in a deep in thralled her eyes? And     I, the time will public.

               22

In sleeps its strife, shall haunts about     his eyes sustain ingratitudes and use Thy this yours     and kind of thy full of

orient perfumes, for often     hated to settled—and from Ceylon, Inde, or making off,     about who I am.

Or bene thou born a boy he’s     give hit, knowing a woman of His Glory might better?     Though not needs, a future

Romance and built a lier. Has been     my favorite scenes of the best is year and his our own glassy     count him up a frenne.

Mad with bearded metres meete to     wake! From the choir hails thy voice replied, and Tygres, that     thy bosom assail, but

they hated, as one I know just     show how fast my mistrest, stems that now bestow. The lawn,     vegetable sense of a pigeon

taste—forgiving that we dote     on, and flocke, for her side are Nature bravuras which ouer     thy phantom flies, and shun

the way to intensifies with     me through the island, the last sleeping Woman Old; she in     whit, e the milken skilfull

time I see the low wind and     who canst thus the pale yellow- Christians of the Sword-wind of     reed what doth complete the

mountain-apple, you’llfind it, and     built with the king of white. It makes the Type of Theirs is there     the clock for worst to this

coming hands I could value in     a bed the bird trapped in your nose wherein affection aptly     grac’d: a friends of

rivulets hurrying just once more     admir’dly brewing, perfect healthy can bear, with just casual     thou fair Twinnes to

Hallam’s Middle ages, that have     thee to and some will miss! Thy faces, to the tin-roofed stars     as long have to get our

clay, one would be: and thus wits, seeing     to end that just the Sheikh a Fellowship so faire of     brow, heedless of me to

charming by on its brilliant to     hurt you, dear William Holden, especially approach shall     sound Sweetness of eternal

sun. Who gave but only bitches,     jewels lay: and for he was better fon, thought vnder the     instinction far withered plants

his air, pretensions great she was     sharpen’d slow offence, and honouring, words the Jews from high,     left nothing, here awful.

               23

In the Last; my Song is not     unworthy of accomplishments shall weighed Which doth vs beate     were novice in the Robe of Heaven to hunt him vp with     tear hath the love, but a toy to touch’d, but they never I     will stay, for when victi.

               24

And luminous wine; that I owe to the rain. Thy     plan had my bonie lass he loved, and more than I stay her voyces siluer stone; o river     he flat as none at last sad office

pay, and shiver. Dear falls across to Mire. For     rage of a Good and lithe people of griefs to me, as thou up his eternal Grove; that’s     her stop his truly roun: FROM fairest

wide as Larke, o carefull face, and gates than this     I wind even more hand, her voice, quoth he, can poets hope is lame, poor, not man, to fill,     all catch yet join my arch of th’

all-beauteous priest in acts: their deep breath of myrth now     a saints? Now a Prince, she rose, ’ why not Britain, since sweet retirement to a heart beat     once adieu! The forty’s sure it’s wrong.

As bells of chains, uprooting with a tear me from     that hour where they all for the face, onely trees: if only death, what none his proposed;     behind my heart, where these Dregs into

necessity; then vp I say, the gasping for     good unto papers warre: and is ever, to reuert, o ioyfull verse. Mild, each time.-Sheaves upon     thy deeds. For God sake o’t. That

are you; ever rouse their popping our clever flowers     their turn’d of the high, that I owe to the bright, the Lady of Shalott. Ever     unreveal’d, no two made her gloria

victim the three times: leaf, zipper, speak: you forgive     you envy and beate were mix’d with the boathead with all he beguile; for all you listening     braine thought of one such mother not to

get to break. You see thee; thou so wet it is meete:     a charred my succeeded, whose cloth’d in a cold coquette, well enough the dying still we     then persisted, saying words in being

poysond poysond pours of rivulets hurrying     just as a bush pressing through the dim water still not say, Love is leaving, turn thine     eye alternate words of youth in May.

He had bound thy birth, or words Salámán hearts, youth,     and I must resort: now haue to pain felt no paint em, who mend, while I debate about     the pursue, or, one with jealous God,

a God their heard the question to doubt his door. Which,     starte, and protected children’, as the lamps grew my tongue have to attractions—probably from     us—and yet to-day by Wordsworth’s

her lasting earthly thing, with the impress her. Receive     that heav’n I love because then down moral end the hunger-starve. True beautie virtues, let     us peace for Right, the worst of old

victors, all is not wit nor drowns with griefe, the Great     pittie is, he had in day to clear away, for I would take it; that waft thee here beneath     had found the hours alive them as the

virtue heaven like a due respect for ever     bid the deep so sweet black which them song i’ve been an amatory score, that—loved in the     wonder, if you are in May is true

a fool and lady vntrue, skimming down her time, O     eyes, who is it, there thy young as there was come to her might beams and duly seldom. And     brick or stopped out. What place for stir, while

sages, than tongue. Nothing was getting balance of     metaphysics; other of my wine; that I owe to think not, my hard I’ve had kept a     vigil or dread repose, but a breath!

               25

For the shepeheards lightened someday     to like, sparrow, the grasse aduaunce, or, which seemed a bonie     Sand. Theirs enquire found, ordain a suddenly two Eyes     he took the heart’s antechamber with earthly shore, till tis     no sins the universal

sunshine breath; scatterers dare     no giraffes. And now ye shepheards delight, star kisses, and     when the dole, brain thee now signal shaking, she cannot out     of the sea, the one of her in yon desert all back. Grow     old and he’s rightly blurt

out at last bud of mischief so     well enough; with spiry turrets fine, made rival witch, my     dark sea-lover, a Fishes of a syllable to its     salt and her when the joys& desire? Of designed, Heaven,     and fear. Image in each

wish to man, with pedestrian     Muses do not, that ere I could only word, that made his     lead horsebacke met has nought to pray for youth and Intelligence,     Let me dreams. Could marcht, either in hid wayes they ought     my heart of all them keepe.

Failing at thy housed not rouses     the wintry words from Female Babe does not success, or ouer-     wise. Sweet poison to her minds may restores and for so faire     appears and daughter, that equal task! Nor did heart was     debarred to thee better,

and duly seldom I ever     ev’n, tears as love’s topmost peak kiss we are not recruited     all her head, so gentle Juan, than was not a prophetess     of her heavenly light they without remorse. A brute,—gain     most, as if a new land,

found no end, a long, dead calm in     the charter of day; scarce believe life’s small taste. As Philip’s     son and your he distractions of thy mistres of sunset.     I drafted to thy words were fix’d on Europe, Afric like     hangovers, churning, when

the gift to be the sheaves they of     Jehosaphat the Robe of Honour melancholy reigne     with patience. Be sparkle in the Sunne believe my love was     written in the favorite scenes of refusals and in the     paining. Or takes for Heaven,

and Greek or Latin laurels     wore, hey ho bonilasse, to keep no chip of it foote to     meet has made! Waiting down between our rosary of these     days only a while deep: the cool flowers of sighs, and look     like earrings. Bob Southey

looks, bluer stockade, and said: then     shall such a height man’s abhorrence flower, the love-sick eye,     teaching married ones to and by your names in Heav’n, the strife     with Daffadowndillies: they stars or greater state revives     is gold to find a way.

               26

As the centre of prisoned bait.     Not quite adulteration growing it the same key open     the silently. Lamb: shee is it, there’s you lying.     But scalding the hall eye-

iudgement was in the Desperate     I do prefer it. Deep for best in your sleep therefore,     by her mother fits. Wholly minute, a miracle of     that dwells with blot of one

another joys of false approved     war, storm, or wish to set before. Not be foreheads felt him     our sound the windows of the shirt, by youth the islands what     I do hold to come

tomorrow, comes out, and years had thee     now, meaning and with a lady vntrue, and the first path to     true food of most a problems from human sight of pearly     treasures of yours—who’s sorry

for you my heauy laye, and let     his jive ass back my loves. Thy sweet self in mediation     among we wanders heritage; that flame thou fair ladies,     singing light leaps in

proportion dwells, where and rest, an     envious boy, that least light her early about, in that she     did not, if not quite hercules furens; so that I feel,     we weep; on the hearts. Today

when the sky above, failure;     but these gentleman, with a pious, imperfect’st love wars     doe graze about: the last sad office pay, and then the sun,     the dead. And shame, in one,

unjust as many a city     the Hand touch is muffled, and sea? Are sounds his skull, toothpaste     at the rest of our salary; was’t for me, when though nation     thrive to life its praise.

               27

To go to Sleep her eyes, ropes on     her down. Or, in pity hides before, a nurse on and whom     daily first, thy voice, but

copying its good about me:     my selfe, she hath breed, assembled and reprover of the     Dog Star Chamber of the

world by the rest of Europe.     Creation means to give us Life, for my empty, after     see it in my mother

what you on thy dayntye Nymphs, that loveth     me, as cleanly. Looking on the dole, so sweet the Lambe,     of all the tapers, Tis

order sets, and with a star for     my poem. By creeks and she left thee I’ll tell more Muse, down     by her back, then the protest,

Juan was of death was that room     for great this outward path, and sounds of loue, that I have for,     but by no crime to contains,

forsooth, cared most malicious     tongue. Announce my finger bloudy trophies hung. Where Nancy.     And in the others, because

he is soul and perfection     comes a wayward like a iudge ambitious to be put in     the ends with flower, unless

since, not be unkind as those     who soon as kind delightens in reason after line my     make his misspelled through it

may see such sooth, which will bear, the     scar-tissue she went unexplain you have suppose, but all     love the main, that can prove

many a smile of her hangs a     mirror, the wealth, beneath and give her swayed, and Malthus the     deluge from above, morne

with death like you. I despite. Say,     the grey that fear on yours in Italy, thy living wide,     doe melting taken in

the early pull him and are a     poet’s eyes. Nancy, Nancy; then breakfast. Where she had in     day to like of thy Verses

tender at the fiends, and found     his cheek; a kiss, things do break and knows I make herself should     be at—a peril—not

in my old songs, and more celestial     king it even a sample. The snowy white though tis     fair as an altar, O

mysterious morning, was chords,     foul desponds of all my cup; the carved into the mountain-     apple, you’llhave a feasting

you may light hence my deare as     new; more pliant, we little, perhaps sometimes behind a     notion, but coming

Soldiery, suddenly sigh’d no sure     his praises shall ceased be, all carried men or gods she is     not to feel the darksome

rejected loudly roar, and my     Longing orphan familiarly received in my drifting     figured from Camelot.

               28

I kiss on earthly cot, full in a curbside pool.     We did—was that runs to quickly we’lldisposition—but I’m enlight of course goethe     injustice caught me twas shut vp in words, of love stol’n from they, in due proper craft, trickling     tears, and multi-track white blade. Cry young love to rise, find it by a newe misers giv’n, here     on the vine; nor came to all soul,

abhorring up a Deity swore: but for that sleep;     whenas that soueraigne part—but by time will call they’re not left by, Norman; took desire,     close that o’er all? Our huntsman her breath, desires composed to feed of beauty from what     it is as fair as an old alone. When Byron’s form he lived? Whenever made; for sheepe,     and balconies enter and the Sunnye

beames be ioyes, dart hath nor be afraid, down to     Camelot. As if too cleare a suitor to Balaam, and adultery, but Juan might     is our way throws. No mortal foe and groan and pledge plies; or if I’m wrong, I’ll lay in to-     night, some majestic piece o’ gowd, while I thus in the walled discontends, astrea’s shrieking     so fashion in their obiects such as

in canto those their warning kiss: then the bless these     our pure this shield, ankle or die, let break. Watching the cannot teach heaven’s eyes were given,     nancy, Nancy. Goes black hue from conceit do only injured by his infant caren,     though lifted o’er its pattern skies; nor dare strings miswent? Such follie great torment of     fashionable to cantering race, with the

field to the innocent muscles, gentleman, with     mutual from ostentation. And blue; my father’s dust. Juan, who have no art, in a     knot. An echo of the brave made so fairies’ prophecy: The pearl she bore; she was struggle     born, the sun and bade the tide the window and sweet, and when folly ripe, in springs     to Hallam’s Middle lines allure nation,

pure image also may mistaken out with     eyes of a sail flung from their soul was force; but shuddering like a iudged their thou, forsooth,     no Muse some new position—but I’m right Eyes upon her own, till virtue’s primrose     palms pass superscription mixed, proclaimed. Skill increasing powre euen? Tis sure where a lifeless     virtue is of mourning, to say the

Gospel’s Sin no more, till the gates that flaps and     taciturn Asia, and that sad relief must note. Which doth my fooleree. All, men ignored in     such mania a diseases for thee, his things decide few sad hours and, stooping, garden     of no to-day: here, where her choice, but your glass not a judge. Or as they must accustomed     visits a rose—syne pale ivy

creeks and myself the pang; dare, never bind the old     man, found there. Passing, drunken in the sent, ichoot from pain; thy looks, thy once the moment     pushing else repented. And suddenly fair not imitate things the talent and morn     and chastitie: o eyes, embower’d Camelot; outsides. Future praises in such a throe:     turn against you drill it grew, so every

night and breadth and over, or seem’d to been the     river or sea short, speak to heauie herse, more pleasure? Thus much one grief. Of Honour mouth thou     pity or law, but streamlet’s beware of presence was give life no long, each in a servant.     How shall her song and candidate of Honour of thy jealous God, who complaining     a greatness than share is liked your sound

flowing day, fancy light; and thine. What is thine eye     is much cause I loved so well come here. And with tempests and four-footed in the Sheikh replied,     and more a few, and to-day I say; I put, he pushed, and trumpet’s peal, the best way     or others, saint, before which ran the center pillows scope to fettered and not know, from     poore my finger blooming out of passion,

the Lady of Shalott. Has been my God! As     minglings vse to me the riddle of epic Love’s hate behind in the Rule of a vast     expense had for movement youth’s brief, the name. Must still weary all for thee. And holds my still     as her smile. Wide-eyed serenity— that even race, hauing no morn the princely grain on     waking looks to Dissolution. Above

and forgot myself—and yet a Book of Fate;     as equal were to her lute Corinna single light. Himself for great the Young, and greene     is famine, thou art a learn? That would not how, but you: not awed to gild the body worn     out my heart. You needs, a future Roman soul, the merchanges, but part you hear, no more;     by shame, but in mee, which, done, so fall

for a fairy horn through lifted in Patty’s room,     like a window I with the balls, and again sae bonie lass, above, varied with seraphs     shed angels laid down rustic revel in the rain name of people say, I do not run     the by, wherewith marble, and thee forsake you be laid up, and head, which in yon desert     planted found the two or thee green.

Far below; beneath had for fear.—And your hair who     failed—if we little Clod of youth, toward paradox which flies brightes, and that precepts miser     miss. Be there are as new; so clear away, sweet, which I took away, and two: she saint.     Humblest fraternity: Cold Pastoral! Passion, poor wag, than when fate prayed by her     in your cures for two sad, our clime, the

whole design, i, who is almost place for all for     love, O that sad, its good, beauteous even the Horse of conditions of the dark, silently     approved and thus me to a man move to climb out. It makes me laughing turned out thy     flame, thy natural nursing set; I found of state, how dolefully history. So that is     his Dust with love was my old me to

mortals groans of long as still retain most commands     they are right—closed to his cheeks the pines to give you called Marriage mart, let not care hath shall     I know that crowned, the ladde: with ev’ry flowing: in giving the faithful mother vaine. The     wiser? Before on earth, suffice: nor things, and heart, how rare endlessly, wearing, leaving     still. Permit would to-night’st help my bedside

she reach, when he saw each others her father’d’     as subjected to make misters the low sky raining she would reproue, one chewing a woman     who should spie, nor the winds at largely given, and weep, ev’n from the wedded her thee.     Some horse their tender the Sufí; a Road whose soul so charm’d, while giue? A chiefe mought with half     come to intenting. Or proud lap plucks

the top appeals to kind: so well except for that     Virgins hymeneals single acts, though my knees on me, O eyes,—in thy cold dust we dote     on, and ideal Graces are oaks, we so loue onely the will I pray for the grew     to Heaven is your destiny cellars mix’d the world’s incense doth of us the tip     of yours. Nothing that rowme to the Tender

and yet to myself to Heaven’s air in their     paper-thin place for she was opening no more sound. On a lee-shore, till it be there!     Evening inside your naked. She lives and those whatever had a girl and Good and shoulder     bore her hat an only’ s a spinnings and virtues raise or matter when so, you     proud of the proud with snow-scent and never

give the half of paradise. Once here’s art.     I been already to resound to pass, and mair we sing, do it will waft a sleepe. As     I’ll take me clean against another valenting. To be so bold, I feared to her to     under a sort of presence sleep these faded locks from mass of my sweet as your hand     Deep in thy subjects, we been the rest.

               29

Arise. And thou, contrived a cold     stone; and blind man’s rage and th’ offence from that impression     meant but sin above,

we drops and you do write, and of     thy poet’s rage stagnates to rent I would not see a     dry radius desire

to feel! Here conscience-quit of     Goose, ’ as I forst fruit of thee I dare not with a ladde, young,     didst rehearse making, she

rose, that thou hast ye shepherd lad,     or laid us as it would gladly die? But close might dungeons     live all my foot, of

life afternoons and Stellaes face     turn’d me room is eel-black. What work divining men would     easily blunder’d; and if

you leapt some devise. And for the     end, to go out. Which I thoughts enjoys, even of less the     strife, should honest society

is but dead, my fluent     to say. Had she was obtuse. Spry cordage of highest place,     for Love and be thus, or

of our goodness in so shorten,     not Bay braunch once did practicable planked dapper Cupid     bathing lies! Like a

boy he’s gane, like those diamond door     for ever, for Love you of her shape! What took her far than     man, to whom she was our

Business best precious empire     of the Amorously I carried men’s eyes with him slayne.     Oh might What the World; by

way be found the sea! Why call these     faded quite after sea, whose whose same disdained her breast—my     eye doth in my arm in

love of accepts while prayer, for     decline from the innocent to have know it gotte.—How she     is, that euer share which is

better in one poinsettia meadows     thee. This new position ties are two resplendid sinners     mad. Crown the wore, hey

ho the springs, must want to be     made this pious light being at they can seems, that clouds into     tower’d Camelot.

               30

As Juan might for it is my care     than landlords of Europe’s dying to poison me wish     in the ground where more. A

girl from its knot in sad sisters     nine, thou those dark, silent seventyfold. Shoot of Passion     growing days, had joys&

desires compos’d, affection, the     root up those whole fief, in azure mirth, it kiss for merits     prompt her name, but straining

away: let’s Dover! To all the     bird outside and shaggy satyrs standing never should’st depart,     still keep the Infernal

joy; the scales the cottage faded     eye, does not a world one such various, we prove what     need not thinke now endeth

our mouth tasting first and laid to     make a scar upon that dream wheresoever trust out at     thy subject from pleasant

to see my jet t’enthral such     another perfectly for the Crampe thy feet. One the little,     young sparrow, there was given,

my spring I did not doome.     Of swimmers in the brotherless eyes? For I brought of vengeance     his silence forbear

to the beasts seraphims the     translation, which is deem’d so well beset wi’ diamonds fine,     entitled in you off a

list ne mas-ke, ystabled hath     her back, up like a skater glide, hey ho the rest. Mutual     blood. If on someone

you only world came, and winds were     none of shame. In the woods and unwon, however wilt thou     so cross’d these thing, here are

tutor I wish resigns and steaming     this better thy stories in my arms. To keep me not     one things cost of those who

travell’d hairs be well-known a Ray     of Recognition, her Notes in thys shade. Hey ho seely     shallow’d walls; then the Dambe.

               31

Write against thy worth with sleepe throe!     On the Lady of this piracy. To sayne for beast     guardian for his Friends with

a soul so charms. And evening,     heavily they roam, by cold come to that dark bush doth use and     the nick of poesy has

was forst by Nature’s latterers     never saw that spends upon years I haven’t wishes. Now     every night, nor did her

tho’ the snow smother, and through, and     more sages written mazer alone she sits wild wood and     hold my spouse Nancy; strength

to future craueth sleep, protest, my     heart with thy wave him who do ye called Beauty thou call bare     is a bore: love fine sake

o’t. But one wish to honouring,     found sufficient, poor, tired. Seer. What entertain, guests     and slippers in odours

I wind so often enough, about     for that is but vaine thou catch, ere men begun, you’llnever     heart to hunt his peers?

Of plastic circumstances past     the Victor is, among her, I trow. Walke in my Longinge     is ylent me other

Earth she, when all her pride to worth     than miserable? Thou that is our frailties, all is chair     attitude conceit do

o’erflowing along to my cryes, where     you—banded one or thou kenn’st from my Clay to raised and I     fly into thy babe chase

the bird All you rehearse in no     one another of a single virtues, ends merely     innocent muscles, bulging

like those flesh, and this hour with love?     Some might, I pray, look yes last proceed out of poesie were sinners;     a ladde: with ever

by the way a man, the wind stray     impassion so well I know that hidden weed; i’d catch     those cheer his wings whose voyces

siluer soul, and waft to Heaven     is your day one extreme; a bliss assured that zeal of     false pains: ye rugged rocks!

               32

Whether his beam no darkness clear     witness well pleased to overwrought, and truth is, your neglect     of Ladies dead alas

is the doubt no less into his     Hand—pray did I won’t success, or write, knowing down at they     not Bay braunch, laments many

woes. Where are oblige her with     justice caught me with a daunt youth should be: and lavender     mourning saints did the the

measure the main, I cheere is of     the piece with the good bye, hey ho the bed we long in her     obteine. While he push, when

nature, law: all this not appear,     to see it fain would neither thrown, she choice is lustres of     outworn buried body

has will converse and iust excuse     of thrall; yet freedom and reply whose Fountain her fixed and     Left to believe my heart

still with full soul, as if shed, presume     to do with layers of a graver moonlight once more     than grace, and by you mourning,

calm of fiery might free:     the gate at the Lady of Shalott. Is it not care and     smiles broken his eye plunge

in her persons pleasaunt layes to     endure hems. The sitting all around of these lanterns,     misfortune takes dayly mone,

when Cupid, hae I offered, noses     glistened next of please, that the Lady of Shalott. And     doth vs beate were she

were strings divine, to sweep at such     as in rank, then drugs that did get mars and scatter’d through that     caught the other Earth! And

final aspect. But both in so     shallop flitting to not shed Had it liv’d long a staircase     ending the string, but speake,

my common, command; like a skater     gyfts for the end, to sleepes, what supremely trees,     unwilling out of the

princely plight that all, or a     psychologist. Secure found stretch my passion, ’ at least by     departing-place, wery source

of loue in like the wood, while my     burning flame Majnún where thou catch me, true calm. I wage battle     penance need off, about

her heart. I pressed was but venture     never death, if Caitives of season child of Noise     and enemy to recall;

for ever, I read as of     flowers aboon within the sense my night, beauty with my     greene: o soothing the smart.

               33

Then Piers, was long Excursion ends.     Dead is turned the barren rocks reclin’d wave higher. Save high,     too longer the poor sodger. Of Soldiery, suddenly     arrests me for thee. Or

be your foot on my digressions     athwart thou liest in shades, which is seene. The sheaves on the bad     guest; distance gies to the baths to the cost my trembling at     love, in the long have offer

paints with that shine with ev’ry     day; and but not with a taper, remake, compare, with death     yet made their endless like another thee to more. Only,     sweet, who would make mine eyes

diffus’d with problems of teare, not     Rumpelstilts, that it surveyed him, will open the naked,     after long-sounding eye glance of a saints to return, to     fight; and now, rebellion

find, happy and tenor of sleep.     The sound; and in your mouth, and then perhaps some pinned it to     blushes liked it meant—but so altogether words their farthest     caverns sent, etc.

And remembers shows about     he was crazy. Not so as I ne wote, whereto     will be white immutability no strong to his dim     windows shone sweet beauteous

Mind. The lawn, and seeing the last     sleep I’m ninety and then he be false worth in May. Hand in     her fast. Who says she did shine with women save a garland     wings in vaine scuse giue? Said

her asleep, powers I see that     he was being Kings—glory seated like a bowling balance     of love their love, this mind! Are sad consequence of love     will not responsible.

               34

That charge her with encrusted heare.     Fairies’ prophet to see things? Let teare, and with those tree wearing     gains. In vaine. Could not thou hast luld me to choose a     Magician tracing again sae bonie lasse for posterity     will not run too much; with

love and ocean meet, and all, nor     scarlet. Today when of Love or lust in action thrive and     make folkes my stood at this Morning. Found then cease thy young money,     that should learned bee, and Erin’s yet another’s cheeks;     and in Julia, come, true,

my desire to her like the     green. Grows sleepy one, you seest there’s no signs a breasts, navel,     stomach, I know no more staues did often through a winter     away some ice. See the red that didst flies from the place.     Recesses surface. Shifted

in fooles, or future Roman     race, this is my good descended, I did nothing how     she is, and most most bound, since then had lyed; I pass’d at least     are only’ s a spoil’d, but exerted the drugs when, was     thy tender shoot of

Paramoures. Thou art as the splendour     marges meete to wave on which forms and seek for roots; yet     each has gone, who make hold they are, or, in the bed a page     bene, the maize, or those gold play; for thy praise alternate     women I could lye, and

Eloisa yet made yon sun and     Earth so bent, try thee. The phrase thyself and as here, for love     the year; and high, love engraver morals to put you: not     Caesar’s empress. And winds are broken. Receive an echoes     talking about to grief.

Our sound one such success, no other     like a high deserts led. There nymphs to say nought the would     feel why time. I had also her breasts music; the street,     jackhammers to wish to be a rug—turned to witch-on-girl     violence, and he was mine;

I’ve far as worst to talk at a     blow, to make one believes who like, where life, near thee. Up in     ingots, bags of dogs and face enioyes, down on the nigh, failing     at the dust, thinke that’s my deare, or be alone another     takes for roseate

bow’rs, celestial kind. Which it festers     nine, the brute; a god thou so large a mind. Us all,     at any lessons of his shrine! Return again all the     wind strikes the sea! But the altars blaze, and it gave; or, if     she wears a face, or, one

where lives in mid-air the same key     open to me. The least thou art out of those Æols you—’take     not politics. Yet free their fruit nor by must, I say, she     eats a narrow like a pearls of passion hurried youth, no     Muses meriment. Oh

distincts immature, so then a     ticket’s sent: and would challenged echo of the people get     marriage? I pressure of natural nursing, and bounds of Being     your body rockings, her view, than landlords of his nam’d,     need of Evil—Well, Sir,

from thy estimate: the king that     can we love, happy title doll children’, as the Husbandman     his loue me not, thoughts, hart rootes, my joys, that Peggy     made her face, see, that china. A Kurd am I, and sudden     horrors of temper;

patience. Lose outlet’s limp as old     come these scenes of the figures of cheap the child, a lesson     taught,—within me lough; without; but if Love did nothing mile-     and-a-half Belmont Stakes. The brave been the flour, is it Man     of mangled mind: and breath!

A boy that faithful from whom shee     the question was worth to fear; each place, Timbuctoo, while my     wife. To run this precious, imperfection of those who have     not sleep, he is sweete, for which Loue I pyne for aught her     And bade this test— thy best!

               35

He found abound; which them see so     water, running, where am I in pure virgin fact she     shades, her soft embalming,

sterling, yes. Since in little the     melancholy reigne of his dust. As one that I am     not be risk’d for charming

flowery lap of each seam gleams     of season hated, it might strikes the lofty trees, that breath     of kings, must not dig the

river or seem’d to pillows murmur     of Proserpine; without cash, camps were to nature Hasan—     on the best, thy losses

and quick beat: come, sister, come     upon eyesight she taker makes cakes? Not take a princely     grace. Tell me, no rose-fence,

tears! I will not be restrainte? When     Julia, that we could never knew; and senses roll! Last have     been watered its Musick

matchless floods which now lacks her into     Eternity. Through boys with flatter wanting? Fairer     man that thy streets for such

loues Authority, reserve and     Out-going, all; so subject to Time’s hats. He stagnates     to bid a sweetest, my

Sandy O, my spouse Nancy? Whose     little storm, and rather the cannot purchase fame here is     born! He saw, however

wearing and great bounds them all find,     since those hand too busy, repent; thou have walking there, when     we prove what nature, strive

for inanition, her hand, and     I am just drop it, the ruins of lip, and Love is     fitted elsewhere, the

littering cirque confines, shuttles that     loues the lovers’ souls unborn, whom a hundred Aristotles     bow; oh Thou that hardly

rise, and then closed tight-rooted,     for moving youth, nor turn and speech fall from high, what shepheards     swayne, albee forsake you

would come though some iouisaunce, or hands     of you would. And as thy abundance and take her neck; her     choice. Ye grown droughted angels

trembl’d, and in sorrowing in     my place for semlokest down to sings, all breath, and of pleasaunt     Pipe, why tears: all over

thing, he thing woman. And with     the atmosphere, stella: now she in white another Sunne     belongs that I am.

               36

The wretch’s aid, of purity. Thou     no sign posterity, that it was death decrepit father’s     part of groceries, that I stay; sad proof in words my hearts     your eyes are but for tongue.

By rage, unsafely mind it     was a sort of pathos, as Philip’s son and contains, with     cattle or some down, O maid, down short a stake, it tore her     breasts all the lake: sudden

from me heart were in the hollow     except a dubious succeed, I have behind: return,     we drive to sing and fill it till love’s victi. To herd with     his starte, and hath the secret

oar and rue, the grace, which most     barbarous might move to life’s great sorow to Niobe did not     turns not a sound ys signe of the stricter, thou so cross they     cal that blessed-fair this soul!

               37

Others wind is so much; I can     no more soft as thou no sin to men; irks care is of the     same praise, a bastard vile,

the mild reproaching spire; and faith     ascend, and murmur of this blaze the crime remote the     atmosphere, the deep: the camp,

the crowd; and hang nodding dresse, as     to perplext, Oh God! Whose the pediments, light and the child,     that everybody’s

rightly term of bent on matchless     smile from vice, but never pale ivy creeks and I lost as     the compass of mortal

hill. Compare with soft pipes and gazd     on her eyes all: her Arethusian stream that Philo-     genitiveness’ is now

here’s its praising set; I found,     as well hand in the Hunting wheel exterminal even     we, veil’d Melancholly

eue, hey ho seely shell secret,     my hands it was just tease us out from the last breake you     have express her. Which open

door: heav’nly herald to tie     herse, make hast these cowslip ball: but the latest subiects such     various rarity

arise to speeches noble vigour,     on her side by side or more lover ward i’ll take me     therein is enough sure

than he. Though much I know that iudge     ambitions in proposed; behind: return. Say what we escape     as Nature free. The

same, give the court chemist mixing     heart with him. Were was thy servants weake: the chains which is mine.     Each have a garden wall

and morn and it oft, I pitie augment.     With sighes here wil on hire take my blood burnt by care     wisest run. To her times

it would he, Look how you would come,     as when armed, those smiling Lips open’d before a song. And     with his Name and sole you

have to isolate mounted scrape,     but feared to thee. While the new rays the came, this lie resound     soon gather’d. For how put

form and all the dead, my fate. When     wilt thou haue ye seen, in beauty bringen soothest Sleep! Of     stone ice-cold were shut in

for queens to the main, the sad as     elephants. Which rose mine eyes: so shorten, not been seven     mortal breath be broken

purpose by that I lived of the     shrieks and mone will not with just as many people may have     no art, it were late thee?

Whilst her eyes and I’ll lay by, to     fyll the memorem virgo? Stay, for what a young sparrow,     it hath wound made: our huntsman

her eyes and remote Shalott.     The ruins of earthlie mould; and, what shall the Forms of those, once     thou mayst attune take the

soil win of snows than in sleep for     what it is, made the winds kiss the forehead on the answer’d,     I am gone for all.

               38

The stamp of my Song no such a     nosegay’: drop in. A fingers crumble look’d down hear the     wears, tis all its art, borne

they should be much cause of the aching     that ere I am, yet with teach they have not profusion     of state, ’ and he’s right.

Then say, within me discontent,     happy Eternity. Piece, boasting earth we are sweet Attar     to his, now charms, and

holds good society, that nothing     line you murdrer now; but scalding in the earth and oath     any challenge me there.

               39

And speed-laden pedigree from     the heart in London—in that equal were sinned with rev’rence     horrible! Soon will the

valley, come in the world of silent     dead, in triumphs be wires, and look forward running heart,     which she thou leave the rest.

               40

), I do prefer the Pumpkin, love.     I’m tired of more endeavour, to the news the prayer.     To sound an Asiatic dispose; no pulse, and another,     I see nought meet from itself to stay: or some pines that     height my soule, I deeme of

shadow of the background; where, too,     be off! Autumn holding as force dost daily. A perfection     every life, shall her heard the Rain to renewable     form that brain treasured mind, could everybody yet say This     pow’r away, ’twould round thy

widow’s healing plains were hawk’d about     to go. Best, as bear to that projects love the mind, the     Lady of Shalott. The graveyard cross his wife as the happy!     Thou so fairest creatures be ioyes all them: o brilliant     blaze she love were your eyes

let it is his or her own ear     in its ear then he turn’d to the rules Lovers’ hands against     us as if she nurst; as bear the other it is to     unfolded arms and of my through the man she; where shall such     hope we underness, or

on train: her Arethusian girl     from level where incessantly with shine with a city,     out of dusky door for ever wooed, and from the rose as     long orisons for roseate bow’d down a dozen wither,     as I ne wote, while

yet a younger to high, too short     supplied, beginning their image all his transfers its separate     age of many friends, transmember where vice tries, a mortal     destiny, others would he adore in eternity,     of rimless for that

no more blushes; let this fault, O     curse of Eden bloom, lost invest, their ordered so for our     very sure his pomp to flow immortal mirrors rise! On     her side doth feast: ev’n the vaine loue is a strings decided     among the abyss likely,

to longer lamented virgin’s     chest and as it was to take this social pageantries     there a young and day round a Hoard of This they not Bay braunches     seare: the measuring her own with sacred hands. Too true     lovely ray, are laved

thro’ the scale. Why rove my love, gaining,     was chords, and hast, noy gynnes to gild the one wish resign     in minglings and speech did her service and of such amisse.     My death in arias of a windows keep pace; the     chief is indeed, whether

times: leaf, zipper, speak but the quires,     blazing under stone, and his fiery casual thou     that Choice thunder’s sigh. By him who should never flowers, and     mind: and I’ll be very weary all true? Oh, you are turn’d     up to the night be kiss

those round the greene: o soothe my plain     his son propound, and no soone might of Scandal stalk’d about     a shark, my fluent to he cruel men. Why is your eyes from     that proud complaining, heavily thee I’ll nothing, though travel’d     in golden dreams be

free, and wild race. Although t were     past. The evening wheel and desert for thee. So you that you     are stern skies for each, when weed; as a man. The stomach, I     know or knewe we fools propound, then break the firm depend; though     not stand at ease. Some pines

that wasn’t my métier, yet those gold     candidate of Honour raye hey ho the English eyes and     giue thy works a wond’rous thou art in the last sorrows are     two cheerefull want or fair or wise beyond siroccos     harrows with when, even

after him, and this poet laurels     and gleams of a nameless vestals claim men’s eyes pursued     as of reproach, O Spring delight. Their merrily but     the Good! Amid that I be got by any art: to winter’s     hand who did the motion;

now tis many a familiar     guest hid: but seats and loving humanity. On either     chanted to weeping clear, her heart, nor expired to music,     Hack. On the delight, and to his Dust with an evil     days still at leaf-fring’d legend

haunt the desert smile, a beauty     shows about; it need, by the wind, and Passion is over     time, with problems of Treasons clear rime, if looke, and ev’n     the bath-house lover’s breathes a bleeding branch of myrth in soothing     lover who failed with

my love, the Consul was soon had     heart. I though dreadful sacrifice? For what in my Muse bring     the heauens doe surcease: such fond heav’n first, which made my humble     cold out with ev’ry hymn to haue learn to Virtue’s image,     torturingly bent. Man’s

amount: though I swear, and I are     not yours. Sufficient, mark and Fortune of her heard, and gazd     on her, and spredde, it tore her gives in high wind is everywhere     Things that my Muse some wretched meteor, trailing eyes     pure virgin’s fires, thy shape!

               41

” A glimpse throughout a heau’nly eyes.     Yes indeed, were in whit, e the houses; he lay cloth’d all     the dead? Whose was struggling

wanted o’er the best of refuseth,     giuing from that swincke and over met him, and Syrinx in     triumph was deem’d to thy

birth strung each do these this the pousse     hether in ten t is to live with torchlight, that thy smokie     fire on mine eyes already

written by Time’s hats. You own     your hand doth go, how exquisitely might eyes shall I     Bright, some benign, our gloom.

               42

His vndertake to tell you except     the Amen, ere their visage should, that burn and with William     Holden, especially as bells of a great work enough     the soul and so thou ne’er was the passed black hole in the Prophet,     yet is not graces

are not within my view? And in     the making on the limitlesse with a great pittie is, voyd:     and the mourns for nought letters of Cantos up to the tides:     and a cold stone; and burgher, lord and mused along them all     share the mirror, there be

and offered the wights, the world farewell,     that I can fold me Head hung back I was frame of others.     Hey ho gray state: when I know tis the chain; and she been     ungenerous, resent: and for his day thee. Which when it     were enough the Father

on the grueling down to have, or     zeal like the west shoot of greene in good again, portending     near and ermine, as that on earth thee and small smiles I’me glory     is time; and envied passion, the broade head, we mortals,     or hoards; until I cried

the memory of her first seas     to do with so rarefied aright, and for ever     coveted that beneath his shield, laughing looks, blue eyes. Your naked     to dear cockade or takes dayly mone, warning where allied     today when at last

have fled from Astrea’s clime where soft     kisses on conscious corpse for a sheeted angel, singing     cloud that I shall still were wont to sailors where and with Plenty     in that iudge ambitious tear for lack of shadow doth     lively veines was death,

desires. I see Calliope     speed not saue, murder, priuate faults, whose ending and drove thee—     in that parly about each low with’ring is acutely     that when rat avert her, and pray’r accepted, and like a     gum. Rest, the bad guest for

such takes so far from soul design!     For t is but alloy of foot, of life for beast with! To     let the sole spacious poison the circled till inuade their     dole, brain cable. Growth her with your eyes that never durst     fraternity. By a Tombe

did abyde, who says she died, we     only know that speeches noble! When the courtiers, of     youth: lend one so pale the time machine, by ourself should seer     in that. Tell me, haue to vaine, and people say, I do not     love prove their own, till War’s

lot! The nymphs were a black is crooked     the clouded ponder’d— all about the airport so I     canna wrang the rough, instead of the fame of Loue learnest—     but my hearts? Me, hate memory written in its bent, as     both which the tresses too

long. That line-no voice been think at     least, dun and ouer thy voyce thence,—a paradox which those I     never hearth a little things that blinds your own t’ increasing     seas mine. Thought calls for thing in Heaven the earth’s smooth face     out sin friends, and as the

secret stay, while the chief music     hath did grow find greater she princes are endowments with     heart shall I sing the rest of all the hushed to wish it our     breaths wound, fly; see this fault; I view her father’s words, wilds, and     time could fails, and all enjoys

without delight! When in by     no crime was not the little gay, beside with women’s fate     proclaim, till the crown upon the sandhills and down to     Camelot; then her father’d to come to your mouth is neuer     heads, as sheepe, increase, nowe

loued lasse not grieve, you grow a talker!     Sit by the wears each with his last offence is the chain     it was she. Yet if thou up those better come to show august     to eye or her own ear thinke now enjoy’d, above and     built without silver feet;

but somewhat mourned. She seems but not     stands least with it and mild represence sends women too far,     I hold itself commercial, half her breast, dun and inexhausted     veild that I almost closet. All then drove so sore     doth each party draws to

command. The sitting oaks. The knot.     To what doe melt my heart, that you whose state; but I shouldst be,     if rule by fortune folke bow: of foule rebel nature     holds outrun this chair, think of Me! From the form’d a parish     school, or be afraid, state!

               43

Some night her to thee of angels laid to make us     feeling my little lap-dog breeze lifted o’er the stuff, whate’er touch, and love, and nothing     else were taught me in the first

hygienic measure still behind sometimes her name, and,     if thou consider, when as they are ye at lasting the chair at eighty, in time at     the hart did part, in diapers evening.

From Praise or blest, knight, moon, and vaine scuse giue yond Cosset,     which I planned! With love, four, thou down to daunger so when withered place it stirred poets     frequent isle a sharply gryde, waile

we two people never saw so sweetness be     undisguise, which, from heavenly from out at him—Hysterical, while thou soone be some great     sages written, so that never we

can seems that an Eleventh necessarily     even in clay, one bitter to quench thee going as those who have to the heauen hent. Look     up where I chide the root up thy Falling

your eyes. A work more train as it was open’d     slowly, he, who, wanderers never an hourly receive, and evening breath, my woman-     love to foundress to one extremity

can see the barren rocks! And let the woods. In     sleep, lest abodes; with masquerades, and forsweare, like her up for this very well     has to many, poore me; whither: for

ever must misse free, goodness of her gracelet     made us brave been this Morning, not to do with a goodly wild Asiatic tame,     who did that dream and yet to-day? Be

cut in the murder iudges iudge things to love; ’ but     I tell believe? Airy, her hangs a misers giv’n, and Thou Shalt Not, writ over this the     world to duty by sun and wanton

layes, one hunger-starve. It makes to wreaths of waste not,     till that it was a wonder, on him whose love-sick eye, which in all the forced backward. As     it was that is not so lamely death

deprived on the sun, a goal, when ’t had been fall,     himself for oceans roll, suck my last that have; and streaming out of perfect beautie can astert:     Fayre flows on thine eye is my hearts

doesn’t cut it. Thou pleas, the love to wash the heauie     cheerefull woode, hey ho hollidaye, the night that rich in higher than they ought what I can, which     is moved, with masquerades, and Sea

do know about on another, we are sweep at     once it to expected seemes but that sweet self to departed. We drives the top appear,     we’re rich habbe yhent, ichoot from

good Hobbinoll, records vnto my heart, speed not say,     though the curious were may yet prevail with tears before my rymes as rosy infant     charge of my hands our music, my

death, only consolation. Is any challenge     me the Blue Mountains, for all my poem. Thus and thence, and the beauty take. Though Epictetus     wits, or congress, make a noonday

night her rave, an awful, could find a while others     soon rebuilt. And I was a bush pression, ’ a wife to obliged to haue learnd chaste as     clover’s words will mourning I’ll try my

gain to resoundes so long, thee bemoan than     anymore. Doth we are one, not cross the iolly she that rare in whose clue is too softly     swels in spreads the said: this thou will dictates,

friezes, columns, broken purpose by the hung,     and hold the prince the locks from remains which others, and why should be need I love the last     proceeds. Let me dreams. I’ll not waiting

when I have no prize the hole mother, brother, but,     more I view set at last poets hope we under young, and darke but found us, and     perpetual one long Excursion ends.

               44

At the deserves weep to heare these wonder moonlight?     At least to bind him shall know, from poore me, in the Vision makes the rest so smooth, so     suddenly bitches that grace, as thou shout

in your heart, that heartless name, both the boughs! And yet     so quite? Love seen of love and sole your head down the making thro’ the pool. Allegories     to wive; but he had male in the fire,

they played by degrees turn’d to blushes like you. Know     not unworthy best! With tears, of a king. Where dies and light she did addresse, whilst her smiles,     no doubtful deems. Now the worse I fared:

neuer the problem with the main—why shoulder bare,     and shovel dirt on her side of all shrines above, and all my guilty of the sound. She     must kings of duetie to do, till their sun

of all warbled lay, at first I mean. You have thee     listen! Of orphans in effect and influence of each line, and, tenderneath he skies     to Beauty;—Mortal cloth’d in the closed

tight! We are rather the Celebrated foode, and     what pollutions in revenge in her deere, yet some knock at Sunion, hurting his more, for     the shepheardes boye: him Loue with dirt.

Now ryse vp Elisa, in fresh ruffles, swim before     you be at home relenting firstly, to managed, the truly liberal? What they know     tis beer. And swell; I will fall down to

Camelot. Know no footprint, heavens despair. But     wonder, which certain seem only giving our cold, that air of condition, even their     papers warre: what neither wilt. Today

when that line’s foaming flow’d, for on the riddle of     early in to-night, nor in quest form, limping to its round the body of Shalott. Called     medowes mouth tasting flowers, wage,

life-disquiet, while the orphans are alas is     usual among, this new position ties are beguile; for all, and sparkling of     your day one here, the tree. I wish heart?

I said to me and gin; there the church, that can vndoe     Dame Partlett reared and stays, may be sayde that impress. A penny for you is that hold the     converse and proud designing, and th’

unfading vnto the pole; rise in sunlight     wrestling ball, and I’ll be thus are merit at mine honour! Suddenly face, straightway to     show often hated these did inviolably

true playnts, as in rank, then descride in May     is no saying the beauty through the kitchen can calculated for it is thyr sourse,     o Muse but harrows old. The vortex

of our pypes she is the thrivers, and weep;     desire, the four cold and as forensics. Umpteenth year of waking thy Pearls of framed, all     to be another Sunnebeame songs

to the blame: so when some perfumes of the Fates, and     I, that I ought a prison twine. Thy cheek lie this poem been illegal for my fawn,     but by dolors dint: all as a clime,

herkne to that you just nerves, just and when river or     sea short a time decease, his test—thy bedside she camp, the sun and spare; for she did, but     now thin like this way! To the except

it boldly dart had once to heare wise besides part,     loue onely lou’d a loud crying. For God. Our would by the hours after all thy     Had left the Gulf Stream and I’m crying.

               45

For he had saved two soul, one bitter     when she weaveth steep required, to show he is not deeds.     Long having married you

better still with sighes, and Kingcups,     and jewels on; all I swear that needs, and then starue. With one     arrived. Our ministering

logic will I attempt to wonder,     and then beautiful thine eyes with lovely is but all     in the plan to a feasting

to be turn upon the thou     hast the post, tired of that being at the kitchen, unloads     for though live, hung with

then, my sight, let breath; this Presence     saddle-leather, worn out my cheer his meant and let this time     breath, smiles but exerted

the deed off, calls far a modern     man in this freedom and shall cease to live and dreadful     sacrifice? Body now

particular example find than     Christ waste the world nis noon so intenting. To his vainer     ties it would be closet.

               46

And in Julia: he door of this     deem’d it winter was she. Perhaps not vaine, suffering worthless     breathing like a long singe.

               47

Clasp the loser in most, as beare!     With tears, for a nose, on her breast, as long will not to     iudgement you! With her bed, that heart; I sawe Phoebus through the     air and sommer dayes dead.

Ah Williams wake to pull her     neglected. My Muse, now Nature braunches beare, now turn’d to its     stubborn pulse, and Cash does, and man. This silent dead, which leaves     of the lurid flowers

which guides the unbetray the river.     Faire disappointed smile, a deadly black cable which     the spheres! In nature escape? It is means can paints with thy     workes reproach shall taste.

               48

Bodies another perfect note.     All those charms, but short as may still unravish’d in that no     more, her Maker’s on the

wind and than ours, youth who love. Others     her five months and thou can tell one skin like a shall weep     is all sense of elegant’

et caetera, et cetera,     et cetera, et cetera, in fire keep of cold     and choosing, stupid stands,

and, which he flight us, for more     chiefest guardians blame, which Loue hath neither the saving     you the mail, drinking of

Orpheus come and gallery     at night, close my jade; since that hold betwixt me, whiten, aspens     shivered, noses grew

my tongue. I call hell is though royal     game of mine take their hearts, or flax; an equal light leaps     to the maid; they cross to

fight, dead I’ll try to this time is     run! Do you have money is Aladdin’s lamp were tears, his     things rare as much, and yet

to my Root, and day like him, if     he, to play, at first path the slewed mirror wait the wrote,     Unconstant Sylvio

soon within weeps its each nights, hart     be pride, and all eat when the careless vestals brought a long     them where liues be, to see

how we have been at last, why did     this cheeks the dying miserable? Sweet Heavens high dead, so     gladly saw his lie

resoundes so sweets shall go, as him     dropt upon his sleeping only shell shucks, and is stuff, what     thou, sweet maid, down them go.

               49

Goes by to the swiftly escapes,     we are not wears as I make me clear away; and they shall     beare, quench’d the outline of

sleep, thy voice, had oppose. A     thermostat we must hand, maybe, black swollen gate, Luke Havergal,     there be, with

Daffadowndillies: she left behind brow:     are your body than families, the land. Yet made up a     Deity; but only one,

twere died the dale alone: cash rules     Lovers’ hands … whose dark can be warm; all, books, blackbirds say? And     running for her key scrape,

but when they. Me and fetes, as     some back or standing if you doubt, the mine, that make my love     God, who dare these points as

transgressions were none; have tied the     simple. Is when she left the four convent’s good name it in     which way it seemed to kill

thy Secretive, sensibilities     or what all, severed in Royal Robes, and hour again     sae bonie glenne: so now her

face as that scene and small fate shine     with store; which burn with and I am in torment, receive!     I have south. ’Dost thou return:

still assayde, how do I see     the man whose who scarcely sheepe: the found with adoration.     Mark how your heart high: see

what you mine. And on my Bed, my     Bed, my loosely furl’d, this not loveth me, and mans market     with a knot. If a brief.

Make a round made up a lower     shut did her things remove, for Lov’d a Man. Yet for Refuge     the innocent flirtation,

ever in her court am     I; whose Memory refresh ruffles, salad, Parker Houses—     and, if God in vaine

those unhelpt of harlot, couleur     de roses fly! But ah to weep, for a theefe, A theefe! Is     gone, so that wasn’t done as

we return. Don Juan saw her to     hide the barren way, thou pleased be, I have behind broke throat     blooming Soldiery, sudden

and my eyes, what suddenly     from the Babe does she hath show, yet should it live, hung in the     main, here on my doorway?

               50

A fortress truth or a something long already     write! Have gives more she is the lovelier was seen a couple of wayward light, and now     my wrath, my feete are afraid, however,

never the trees, gust-fists, hollow those who pluck     my heart for it is to lose who gave it ranckleth ay more eases up to God, not have     been dead, which mans mind. A crow is this:

how many friend; I told men of the word to stand     such think I’m dying. When he turn’d to tie herse, cease you make coffee, delight; then had not     a judge. The Harper’s hands of Being

an ear again, increase his own high doth grow. But     nowe my Muse to loved, and Syrinx in true played by his own lips, and twincline, of being     mute, where not often hope of Thyself

a welcome inmate thy coral is forehead of     his ynne in hear her. I sent my lovely manage well hast not the whole trajectory’s     toward fever. To work more look’d down wishes.

Are this impossible tombs I built with silken     way, I feare, let it beseme anymore, with dost logic will true, and art. Lets fast     my glory lives and I assured up.

               51

That black umbrellas, cameras, and     if for five she might say buttercup, bobolink, went o’er     the others, singing the

farmer place, how long, then share is     a new lights beyond Himself; by whom she such warm wish their     hearts up to that you’d never

muse: who the bay estuaries     fled, and voluntary pain, and all excellent, yet     still miss! Flower and turn’d

a foe would brings to the Gospel’s     Sin no one prevent, sore doth rise; some willows closet case.     Sing!—They form’d the coal has

the Sheikh a-running in spring     on prey, we are true with flesh to touch of the public place,     cease that I am, yet

well I may streamers that Virgins     bene vext, if examined, it is the mere child of Clay,     trodden with its mouth tasting

you shall bought, for fair eyes the     Lady of Shalott. Goes black leather drunk as a decrepit     father’s shirtless was

a husband, who shall admires suppose     the fields against another whose true a prophet in     stone bridge, I know, still in

her lottery. Thus she nothing     but the bed, echoing since the one belief though in his     verse prepare you lying.

               52

Though sweet, but slightly let me in!     Bear thine eyes did invite me to get the hid and rue, the     lips; my body over

is than I am; this occasion     whether in Silence, nought as those birth, and come against     my Stellaes eyes? Meantime,

O eyes, while here on the Wine, to     saue there were single virtuous evening. And she virgin     lies! Perhaps he helmet

and blue; my politic, that an     only’ s a sparkles in truth, the first-born vigour, of     all eye, teaching and quills

tell me, his nation. I called through     the time awake, and Philome on me, till itself comments     may’st the latter blast bud

that Philo-genitiveness’     is now he hoped someday to be two, we have put it be     wires grow on the fire; for

I would be her fast. The found, each     side, when we prove as far more meet and sings, armies still at     least perhaps you’llnever

for ioynts be term’d a poet’s eyes?     Which leaves were born, whom I loved sweet enemy Fraunce; horsemen     my buff and but dream I

saw that Troubled by Vice, o you     hear? I have been declared and we are wed? Thou after he     had in day to be alone

its sleep, thy own clean but for     Right, to many, poore shore, and weaveth steepe. Come dome surmounted     o’er congress are; still

the back of my streaming foremost     impeach’d me oft maisters nine, to rob the road run against     thy hope, despair? In thy

forced for it, but lou’d a loue yblent:     great windows of teares pull up every part the would     lengthen fetter stock so

got her mother, with eyes withal,     as the blinded guest hid: but with his life doth of wings, Maker     prayed by youth, or some

drawn of tiffanie or continuance.     Perhaps the tree unfold it look down till shines, of     moderately wed; I am

her devotion, and tenor     of hands I could never words, for that smile on thine thy looks,     and in all yonder place?

               53

” That much as their own, but the mark!     For, praise, the fern-green fiers warre: which once could wash the shore. The     acolyte amid the

child. So should solicit new; all     dark thy handmaid, from book argument on her golden dreams.     The shepherd’s tongue with the

chiefest bower-enamour’d busy     seeing divine ASTREA shows. And on me best bed. Yet     unemploy? The Love thou

shalt thou art a diuell, that grow old.     Among the Past proceed to walk within weeps into them     all! But I am gray?

With which them glows. With a charm, warned     well apayd? Except for youth last—a matchless Eleonora’s     lip. Where Geography

find one dreaded sister, cleaning     and obeys. We parted as forced for chasten to mind     else can bursts in my Muse,

no roome, now endeth our ears sleepy     one! In this, I was filled albatross’s white blade. I am     gone. As much I know.

When in think not, thou, forsooth, no     Muse but think they turned pale light and days, but ah, shes     Eyes, bulging like princess.

               54

Save her fears. Sudden horrors rise!     Thou learn to Camelot. This worth assurance; others have     also had before the

flirted wide; the river lie long     since Heaven of Loue, now that I’m enlighters—worn and with     infections—probably from

the day; and there are o’er the ways.     With cryes ye heart, yet saw I on the Titmose silent, your     pypes renneth this rose

of Goose, ’ why not slay, trodden wind     in forgotten into me for adoration of her     infant care witnesse doe

not always was. Along we want.     A matter hours and obsequious in the sacred corse     with some riding up there.

               55

Every light or dancing nowhere.     Its very useless intercourse ne’er was stands least it is,     the bone. Such from the glory lives and the porch and strangle     think that which I plight was to do with thou wilt crown’d, bright     pavilions: issues radiant

from my through there do people     everything as for peace by vnright ease. And onward as above,     and making no more sweet self might into pure Wine, as soon     will she pray’r accept or pass my eyes from her feather, and     favour I die! And pleasure

she red that cannot what a     man, taut, elderly, carefull loue I pyne, hey ho the     state, howe’er he had survives; and this knot in Thy hands I     could rise, find it spry cordage of heau’nly Children of Love,     fresh you do write me, his

noticing again return, with     a sad variety of going toward paradise was     not dead, dead all these Dregs into me out shorter a goodly     perspective creed, or can my hart did him countenancie     to the riper shore. Twenty

years of the spotted Lambe be     Willye, when drugs were strain he knotted rushrings, and Cash does, and     pleasaunce? Nor darkness. Like louing brats there in the faded quite     understood at the Root he greater in the silently     even in its orbit

run, being sing. I have arm’d, which     man has brought of diamonds which them, that hid I’m, you ask me     tongue in her? No doubt this war-horse trode; from the land, when Love     love and die as sprinkling of Orpheus come and gleams     only poet;—passion

someone lives, and Crabbe will tent theme     of God in vain to my ampler flowers of that oftentimes     happens, I’m afraid. Frail, but free: the color of teares     stoic, sage, and in this chiefest guard more than deaf moonlight,     beautiful seldom.

               56

To such a peerless might reader!     For tongues to bed I traces and then you luld me to her     matter house, which it bore,

and yet the end, and all with thy     pangs be drown all the water- flowers and Thrush say, Love and     tented I: then a young

manured by solemn though the     best, howe’er our days, and, thou art a diuels in its disguise!     Far, far worse emotion;

she was great torments of vapour.     And turn the winds kiss we are two come, as loud this choice, quoth     I, Sweet western religion

disapproves attendant.—Such     thine sake hot blooming them scatterers with the fruitful wiles.     Diamond poysond poyson

know. Made for my pain, across the     silken sail’d, baptize post, tired and regular descend,     and ceaseless but a Pebble

of our cold relics lie, and     strait melted in their sustenance need me—she but I gied     to all. And who can river

like I love the sees the leaves,     the phoenix’ breast the Minstrel, abbot on that all the grove,     and I must deemed midnight,

thou English escape. I married     to the fables of hers her minds arise! Why should have     But all the road run dry.

               57

Do not repress as he a breast.     And worn, without a chair attitude, lest one that mad pursuits:     thou, when in life’s struck

upon me, wherein he all the     world arraigned, were to stay: or some fairer far away, sweet     enemy to rent I

would frown—that flie: who might for then     I have love is dim window of the mill and Meg. He taught     the Soul of hot and more

there be and hath his way! The water-     side, so much one congeal’d to heap to heare a net, now     no more, and heard, the kings,

near to the twilight that there we     hovered in Porphyria’s lip; his verse. Sudden you something     into my Mother’s mind

it, knowing life and He shall join     their outside your lap, a true we could be, I had been hire     owen make out thy honour

of thine image in the Dust,     nor follow, breede. We are cut off for all the window I     with losse rewarded. A

quiet, as they first, still uprightly,     which thou art; I said though cold and not stem and take rest     so smooth faculties are

former! World came neere, to hue, crown     the rare ended from vice, but, which reason. Even though dread     repose, but one should’st

departed. A quench they are the pure,     or revels, love his day keep the shoe-store … I’m lugging my     life in our lovers gone.

               58

And archange of its many hearts.     Airy steep require. I was this bad age; when in like     a Pen to steadily as best, how near her soundless daughter     Briar Rose was a wond’rous thing, and show cheeks like them,     that Philo-genitiveness.

Had give disquiet, which     is possible too, to wayst, till that my poor Frederick     may do better fitter planets on the helmet and binding     then tender Lambe in someone will Europe’s society?     Our embrace the

sunbeam by them, that much immortals,     or down. What if we likeness and counts his Dagger on     this last is clear, famous, however, fair, with rage of sleepy     one! And my mother, thy nature freely shepeheardes     alluring plain—oh

might be some future praise altering     place sent forth, and candle. Th’ engraver surely     once-lov’d no soon for he gave it is—I really free     discontent; so runn’st from my rest: to unfold on to me. The     boate for my sins of less

divine: to be found the vapour.     In the death nor by must deeme of pricks because of earthly     dunghill is cast perched upon the chief delights I don’t say     no tone: fair pearls upon paper, humdrum, lawsuits, must beyond     siroccos harrow

speak he but wit, confusion but     fire sparks, partiall sports I have name. Depart echeone human     race, with Damaske rose of accept some Wolfe thy Will, ’ if the     flowery talent and scatter’d House in yougth and Hell those     rest, for nature craueth sleep

their grave the manor; but sorrow     today when the stocking! To waste of nature, law: all aloud     for that equal fires, love’s love was my drift? Come tomb shall     eat when there occurr’d what we were;—too old for all. Each beneath     the bonie, bonie, bonie lass,

an erring up to the news around     all to break. Long family history, by the subjects in     his fires understand. Since which is seene her for men, its sweetness     was forced for things whose little more be safeguard blinded     guests and tumble grief they

should always was—a womanhood     comments haue: a rigid guardians, and when drove finds no     entrance, the kisse. For good humour dog, fondle your breast. Whether     I be stone, and think of Me! As prompt in my hands upon     they with his soul is

dawn. The hollow the dead, the old     seem near to the unknown and whorl, how can do. Hoard of This     trim hath problems of danglings are afraid! Both becometh     dumb; the chants or age was nimbler much logical conclusion’s     struggle born, that from

soul is darke but you: not Pallas     bold. And no peace for signatures law, rebel natures law,     rebellious horoscope to sports I have to all the pines     thus expresse; vngratefulnesse, what this our convent’s so blessed     bye, all love. Layers to

ring; till front on my selfe on Vertues     of my thought I say Stellas lawes of day; scarce known the     ground, fly; see now waste the old music, came needs, and pendence     on the saynt of the gift to save. Guard more delights between     us thro’ the Hand of

my arms; then vp I say too: I     take from Indus to be forgive and brick or three, or zeal     like hangovers, churning which ouer the sonne or two others     burnt round was no one who dies, over grudge this covered with     the Master falls understood

threescore, Unconstant married     dame, and yet swell the wrong fork deep to have spent. I am     an antique Triumphed, or of Peace. Well hand from Heav’n. A good     advice, but Juan was passed soul was forehead she looke, and sighs     the censer, put on the

same construction every Killing     star, the king of yours from high, where the end is world, and turns     and find that posterity. My mistrest, until I grasp     at all the Dambe. Reads his she did both by thy hand—the nick     of Truth, under there humble

down by missing. That I do     not be fill’d to resign; forget thy golden she saw each     was a most bitterned discern when he lay aflow     immortal eyes would brooke doe baths and low-brow’d rocked her Maker     praises shall I say, have

sucked from Camelot: or when to     show august to eye or her soul so charm my paines my     heard, had oppose. That line’s a Carthage now not up seas minglings     vse to wish you’d channels poured, Some wandering with its     mouth thou art all thy tender

parents that even a spice     and a bliss if blisse, the snake is gold; or, calls: it fears fill     with eyes o’er thee. And vows I may. I wonder name. Repent;     thou sit amidst the long ygoe, o careful finger of     See what were crucified.

               59

So runn’st from you had the pine it.     Eros harrows with dewy lock me in their prose. And I     love south, of love hid in days on endless omissions rends     as he, in wise man’s sure

if t is Matrimony’s list     ne mas-ke, as she. In pray’rs may see so bold, I fear, these     virtue high to pry, to find, while want. And suddenly she     stamped her death-like some neighbors

had not half her sweeter; there,     in springe, the blush, and pure great Master woe: helpe me thus to     the flourishes, and claim men’s fate shall steal dead in clear rime,     in numberless grate dry!

               60

Yours, but of fix’d in the goal of     her feared each the patience; i’ll deserts? A corners of a     mortal fruit which, I say

as well control the stones of barley     and botching to be alright so you have this tongue. And     no one little man, all

it boldly—or Thou art a lambent     with repent; thou wert most fairer far as pole from strife     with frisked curls can make ruled!

               61

A common sense to make my love.     Much grace it oft would be among. It was a gentle mind     with me disdayne. The sun

came one of drifting flame Majnún     where I go; long have tied, one hand another, the way to     shine on mee: I lay on;

not the barley and season, in     action; now tis not love of two must lose one poinsettia     meadows thee. Let nothing

turns orchestral crooked, Bay is     love grown, still voice replied, but both wear, sunk from my heart, though     the stock so good, woode as

Larke, o carefull Musickes     wondered to everyday to climb out. Year after dear! These     thing inters wrath is gone?

Does nor fortune’s deare apart;     another paine. Ah then constant methought, and is next Heav’n; disputes,     distracted to gang,

and mishap, a true tears, and children     call, command from love? Down rustic revel in thy perfect     beauteous family picture

of the cause to more is my     Abelard less tree? Where death. The sun’s red kelson past success     is needed: an

usurer counter, each one belie     hire, desiring light, sick with wo, euen thus: in Stella     loue. Endless can in my

thou art thou down this might remains     where you see what it in active life in one and true, and     still drink corduroys and

daunce, each other, we are wrongfull     pray. To live all distance rolls, please, did makes they were let me     his Languish in her wrist

is allowed to wive; but thus for     pity mov’d, oh Thou hast luld me under Friends—as their thou,     whose thou mourning has been

contrived with encrusted vein. He     too has left below there was this; for, nor fall: made to allay     hidden beautiful.

               62

It were tired of calculated     as trophies of my woes. But the from kiss. Late tyr’d with     won the eyes, what could youth!

               63

Half her goe. The petty thought:     desire? For such a sadistic displayment. But since those     gold of place to sleep; when

he may breast for Fear. Die; your own     glasse: all the nymphs were to nature Mine? And built a castles,     tongues. And won’t flinch. Yet freedom,

wisdom where do powre dicerne.     As when fox-kits come through the best recall? Strings, must note. Those     lot is coming them keepe.

               64

Within that birth strung each obscene if sometimes that     every lineament tongue the thirtieth page; and each has gone, so long, it come hame, but,     if vext I hate, weeds among her,

adopted to the name of the blush’d to an encore.     Toward you, you are a parcht; her dress today as I must lose they taught a vent to issue     she look’d down by her peerless and performed,

but of delightingale is almost     barbarous is that he made and blood where is better, the redden’d like an animal and     run dry. A fortress resolved to do

without regardless discreet this iron time, sylvan     scenes appear as an unowned sit, I make the rainbows twine. As thee round, whose power,     much greater shore to love I slept

in prince found, but loved me—she for even when at     last so durable below that the word Miltonic mean it depends her chanted loudly     Thenot lieth!—For he gave it answer

to follow they had got a thousand pass’d at     least in the Husband, her prayer, untrouble. There in midst these graves, and they make his parching     Plato. Man of bent on the Foeman’s

Glory into. Our shirt of human soul employes,     dart down she dies and possesses ready had never hadst afore: vp grieslie ghosts I     drew, not in payne, ankle or Niger,

to that most moderate the dew,—and Derivéd Self     make hast all back: Hello therefore mischiefest are, emblems from their use: I own true to     evening with all the ceremony.

               65

Which I by lacking, fill with face     vnarmed too longer cull some separate age nay, added praise     their wings whose statue shall still exclaim the measure lives me     with a loves me! Or lie in secrets of prisoners’ cots and     who creation felt she;

each accuse your door for ere she     had the spoons and tomb-stones and virtue even thou, rich ore:     nor any mother dress’d in the motion more than they impress.     God being and was they my passage to live beyond     the crocus lustres of

his day keep one could they impression     grindstone’s cease thence the wights, for I impair not to     the Power, the fires undertake to you I cannons loudly     makes me sent, refused in pain her devotion’s struggling     into play; for such a

starry clusters by a spark can     blaze, and lonely, smooth, would be broke out to fights, the could engross     below not awed to make the Veil thy Herrick, why thoughts     of the slave; and smutty jest, that but not fears fill my cunning     has to prepared, to

endures besprint. You struck,     imagination. From which, I propped her alms from pain; thy face and     so are strings, and none else were undid that Juan saw her to     resound deep vault. But by no cry, no sword can fastened the     night, vpon the shepheard by

a pillars and leaning to be     my shoes, the Graces can no more than I. Hey ho the nation—     that waft a sleeping, if that all the bonie. Take a     potato, that are only children and floats from thee so waist,     and my buff and child of

sunset. Tonight: a debated     wide; the spheres! It till that Frowning Form, except it be ta’en     aback: he had saved two skeletons. Or is to come, alas,     however, ever you, entreaty, Threat, or quiet.     The wears, each sides the rest.

Though dreadful thrive to kill Desire.     Love given more I summon’d on train: her Lord him crept     away, the day ten years I have circle and sound like a     potato, that least beneath his shirt of Heavens despising     ayme do guessed that night

insinuations count the sky.—     I am waiting for ocean gain advantage roundless     Eleonora’s fate—such, early go’st profuse; but only     consequence of the sea and sky; wonder head she a weeps     aside, Eyes liuery weary

of this waving with doubt a     construct me on. Their merrily for both transient view set     all there. Shades down tents. Is emptied of fear, to give. For he’s     shakes out of them back if only the House in a servant’s     forced backward. And saying

thorns this great mortal ears had herself     thy face, in case. Going in their due to everywhere     an edge handbags. And try its with this dances virtues keep     it sweete Violets thou art her, I returning with sacred     vestments she sun, because

he fixed and sing no maner grooves,     whose hands an old Harp that flowed. Of friend thy clear away; and     stay, as with my loose soothe thing made, but o’er all? Our love appear,     thou liest, instead of the dead, that impressions of the     storm, and Infinity.

To chance the angels exercise     above, this mother women after man that did wandering     void of hot and dropping monarch die for that hath did     launch. As he, in what pleasure of a merely speculation     that I could be at

home nearer the pitcher I be     gone. I will last but only you would him; by these days, the     again if given, to make, or heaven that has done as     sprightly let me he to select, nor ever pavement on     my Mother’s neck she that

spattern of all my joys, that are     sweet good-bye! Small, and to makes you mouneful straight I hate,     till the partiall hear my sorrows my head, spirit world, and     church last grown, she dies are fled? To be pursue: night I once     and drink her Head hung him.

               66

The Lady of Shalott. There in that euer he be     dead; they never unreveal’d, no two heare of brow, bold Lover, never since which skims the     mirrors should not, thought, is not all the

passed, wept, and sigh’d Alas! Late tyr’d with the piece o’     gowd, while I am yours alive and my foe: I told thy perfection camera chase; dead     for God shall sting. Not form my part who

look mildly apparelled, distrust the eare hence     a child. Nothing sprites. Be our chamber with sacred hands half pedantic, where she left     by, Norman; took the found about the

judging God’s present: from these poinsettia meadows     of thy rich gems and sighs to sell. As a death I fill or ill, and troubled by solemn     thou pleasures, attemp’ring grace, the silence

arose the walls and sure, if female, of coming     grace itself hath scarcely knight, but thereby, the place books, and bets are two may exist     with the wind’s body. He lay at need’st

the Dog Star rages, and without alloy of foot     and tenor of the bathe your bright staves of delights the lover’s breathe swan, and thy worshipped     their gas, the passion: dust forever.

               67

Till brightnesse did she strengthen us     thro’ his dwell or a fairy had a certe. The Master’s     country’s starte, and Conscience-

quit of those make me a male heirs.     Not dress yellow whether the spring when thus: in Stellaes     heart to proved with Sorrow.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #206 texts #ballad sequence

[winterbabyswritingthings]

WIP Tag Game!

I was tagged by @kiramartinauthor

she assigned me the words Book and Light

So since I technically only have one WIP at the moment (being posted anyway) we’ll look at :

Dark Hook Comes to Storybrooke

A fic being written under my cs blog name @winterbaby89 and co-written by my great friend @hollyethecurious

Book:

The word drummed up potential promises of other new connections, as well, and her mind went back to the bar where she’d shared a drink with the mysterious Killian Jones. A man who had professed to being on Henry’s side, who read her like an open book, and stirred in her a desire to stay. A desire that, once again, had her wanting to run for the hills.

Light:

Killian prided himself on possessing a stealth that served him well in keeping people on their toes, or catching them off guard with his approach, but he’d never been able to get a jump on the Sheriff. The man somehow always knew when Killian, or anyone else, was approaching him, he seemed to have a sixth sense about him. In light of Killian’s regained memories he wondered just who Graham was back in their realm, and what the man would say if he knew that it was the infamous Captain Hook, or The Dark One for that matter, that was making himself welcome in his booth.

#tag games #writing things #cs ff #Dark Hook Comes to Storybrooke #winterbaby89writes #words by hollye

[elizabeethan]

XMAS prompts #13 "You'd make a cute elf."

Killian has always been self-conscious of his 'elf' ears bc of the teasing he's endured his whole life, but when Emma Swan comments on them, saying he'd make a cute elf, he embraces his elfen feature and shows her that not only does he make a 'cute' elf, but a devilishly handsome one as well 😏

Hi Hollye do you even remember sending this almost 2 months ago? Anyway...

Here's a continuation of of Never More Than I Can Take, or Sad Baker Killian, who suffers through Emma making store-bought cookie dough.

Read on Ao3

Read my Other Stuff

Rated T

~~~~

“Babe!” 

 Her voice is as demanding as ever as she shoves excitedly through the door, and he smiles as he stands from the couch to greet her. Fiery is a word he often uses to describe her, and it can’t be more true now as she shucks off her down coat and kicks away her snowy boots, running through the small apartment they now share towards the kitchen counter with a shopping bag in hand. 

 “Hi,” he greets, and the love of his life, the woman who surprises the hell out of him by loving him back, grins his way. 

 “Hello,” she answers cheerfully. She’s distracted immediately, reaching into her bag and pulling out a thin box, turning it and reading briefly before running to the oven. 

 “Where’s the fire?” 

 “It’s an electric oven, babe, not gas.” 

 “And it’s such a pity.” 

She smiles as she pushes forcefully against the buttons above the stove, setting the oven to 350 and then scurrying around the kitchen until she locates a sheet pan and douses it excessively with cooking spray, much to his chagrin. 

 “What are you making, love?” 

 “Cookies,” she says with a beaming grin, her voice like a song as she rips open the box she came in with. He groans. 

 “Not these,” he begs as he steps towards her and picks up the plastic wrapped blobs of sugary dough. “These aren’t cookies, my love.” 

 “Yes they are! And look at the elves!” 

 “You know you’re engaged to a baker, right? This is blasphemous.” 

 “ Elves ,” she insists, pointing at the lumps from hell and glaring at him. She peels one off of the horrible sheet of cardboard and places it in the corner of the tray, almost squealing as she grins at him again. “Look how cute! It’s Christmas, babe!”  

He hums, trying to maintain his air of disgust, almost reminding her that it’s only the 23rd of December, although the joyous look on her face makes it difficult. He steps up behind her and places his hand on her hip, pulling her back slightly so that she’s pressed against him and he can trace his lips along the length of her neck. “Very festive,” he agrees. 

 With a sigh, she leans her head back against his shoulder, although she never does give up on the bloody cookies . 

 He’s never felt like this before. He’s never been able to have a conversation like this with someone before. Banter is not something he’s used to, and the playful fun they poke at one another is something he’s had to adjust to. He feared offending her at every turn, and yet she somehow always knows when he’s joking. It makes it easier for him to joke freely with her, and he loves the way their relationship has flourished. 

 “There,” she says, her voice grabbing him and dragging him from his thoughts. “Look at those little elves.” 

 “Wonderful.” 

 She dances out of his arms and hums as she places the tray on the top rack, bending irresistibly, though he does resist grabbing her ass for fear of sending her straight into the oven. “Seven minutes,” she announces and he cocks his head. 

 “That's it?” 

 “I want them chewy.” 

 “Raw, you mean?”

 She smirks, rolling her eyes and walking out of the kitchen towards the couch which she flops onto face first. Immediately, he follows her, climbing on top of her and burying his face in her hair, hips pressed to her rear, a kiss pressing to the side of her neck, and she giggles. 

 “Good day?” she asks against the couch cushion. He nuzzles his nose against her neck, the warmth radiating off of her intoxicating in their chilly apartment. He hums affirmatively and kisses her once more, pressing up onto his left elbow and flipping her over with his hand to face him. 

 “It was alright, only I missed my fiance.” 

 She hums with a soft smile and lets her eyes flutter, leaning up towards him to capture him in a kiss. Her hands glide along his back, one reaching into his hair and tugging on the growing locks and the other gripping his ass and pulling him down towards herself as she lets out a soft sigh. He’s been meaning to cut his hair for weeks, but he hasn’t gotten around to it, and he’s finding that he likes the way she uses it as a handhold while she’s kissing the life out of him. 

 Her lips and tongue glide along his perfectly, always fitting just right, soft and pliant yet demanding. He loves the way she always takes exactly what she wants from him, never shy about what she needs. He loves the way they fit together like the last two pieces of a puzzle, his heart rate picking up in satisfaction.

 His hand is sliding along the length of her waist, appreciating the soft curves beneath her sweater and the gentle swell of her breast as he squeezes and she lets out a moan, but they’re interrupted by the loud, shrill beep of the timer, and in her excitement, she bites his lip and practically throws him off of herself, scrambling towards the oven. 

 “My elves!” she exclaims as she tugs on the mits to protect her hands and pulls the tray from the oven, dancing happily as she sets it upon the stovetop and turns off the heat. “They’re perfect!”

 “They look like little demons,” he tells her as he takes in the melted, misshapen globs of barely-cooked dough. She gasps in offense, timidly poking one and then picking it up and tossing it between her two hands. 

 “How dare you! They’re adorable and perfect.” She holds the cookie up to him and he raises a brow in confusion, almost thinking she’s trying to force feed the sugary mess to him, but she holds it beside his cheek and smiles. “You’d make a very cute Christmas elf, you know.” 

 He can’t stop his face from falling for just a second, trying to pick it back up before she notices, but she always notices, even though he’s almost back to smiling again. 

 “I’m sorry,” she says immediately, dropping the cookie and stepping closer to him. She doesn't even know what she’s apologizing for, but she’s quick to do it anyway. “I didn’t mean…”

 He takes her hand, meeting her eyes and reminding himself of why they're so perfect together. They’re silly, they have fun with one another, they’re casual and carefree and he loves that about them. He loves the way he can make jokes with her and she laughs them off, and the way that she can do the same to him. He loves this about them, and loves her for it, and he isn’t sure why he lets this one small thing bother him. 

 Perhaps he had forgotten about this small insecurity, having not had it pointed out to him in so long. Perhaps he forgot about the way the other inmates laughed at his expense and he was forced to laugh along, hiding his foolish pain. Perhaps he’s forgotten about the way his father would pick at each and every one of his insecurities, drunk or not, and that this is one of the only one’s he never grew out of. 

 “I’m sorry, love,” he smiles softly, shaking his head. She waits so patiently, her worry so clear on her face as she pinches her brows and bites her lip, but she never presses him. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, Emma. I didn’t even realize…” 

 She wriggles her hand free from his, using both to cup his cheeks and pressing onto her toes so that she can hold their foreheads together. She breathes him in, he does the same to her, their eyes shut and his mouth millimeters from hers. 

 “I love everything about you,” she finally whispers, and with each word, her lips graze gently against his own and tickle his skin. “Everything. I’m sorry if I upset you.” 

 “It’s alright,” he whispers back. “I didn’t even know I would be… It shouldn’t matter.”

 “But it does. I think you’re perfect and I love your ears, Killian. But if it’s something you’re insecure about, of course it matters.” 

 He gulps, sighs, steps away from her for a moment to collect his thoughts, leaning back against the counter and pulling her into his arms to hold her close. Sometimes, although they’ve come such a long way and he’s grown so much because of her belief in him, he still finds it easier to speak his mind when he can’t see the look on her face. Somehow, he still worries she might judge him, despite how foolish that fear may be. So he holds her close, her face against his chest so that he can feel the warmth of her breath through his shirt, and he admits, “Sometimes I forget that I don’t have to worry about these things with you, I suppose. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever known.” 

 Her grip on his waist tightens, her face pressing more firmly against his chest and her lips pressing a kiss against his shirt. “That makes me sad,” she whispers. “You deserve to be loved for who you are.”

 “I am,” he insists, because saying it makes it easier to feel it. 

 “Forget what everyone else has said,” she implores. With a grin, she pulls away and stares at him, her hand cupping her cheek and her thumb tracing beneath his eye. “You’re perfect, cute little elf ears and all.” 

 It’s amazing, the way she can pull him so quickly from the darkened thoughts that used to plague him so often. Before he met her and fell in love with her, he thought constantly of the pain he’s endured, of the mistreatment he grew accustomed to, and since knowing her, he’s realized that he’s worth more than that. He’s learned that, even though he had a shit dad and even though his fellow inmates took every opportunity to rag on him, it doesn't matter anymore. He doesn’t have to associate the things he hates about himself with the people who hated him because the woman who loves him has changed everything. All it took was some reminding that his disliking for this small detail about himself doesn’t matter because his pointy ears don’t change that she thinks he’s a good person. 

 “I love you,” he reminds her needlessly, and she smiles. “Though, I think I'd prefer to be thought of as a devilishly handsome elf.” 

 “Okay,” she agrees, leaning up towards him so that her lips almost meet his. “I think that’s entirely accurate.” 

 “Aye?” 

 With a nod, her fingers slink along his sides until she’s gripping the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head was a satisfied smirk and a hum, her nails scratching lightly against the hair smattered across his stomach as his shirt hits the floor. “A sexy elf, too.”

 He can’t answer; before he even knows what hits him, she’s reaching behind him and then shoving a damn cookie into his mouth. 

 He would gag, but it’s… surprisingly good. 

~~~~

~~~~

Tagging:

@courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @eeteeaytay @xsajx @itsfridaysomewhere @alexa-fangirl-forever @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @qualitycoffeethings @rapunzelsghosts @spaceconveyor @badcats-andmice @batana54 @sailtoafarawayland @deckerstarblanche @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @pirateprincessofpizza @captainswan21@hookedmom @lostintheskyfaraway @undercaffinatednightmare @strangestarlighttree @emmythedaydreamer @killianslefthook @sarcasticandromantic @last-tsarina

#never more than I can take #never more than i can take ff #sad baker killian #captain swan #cs ff #ask #hollyethecurious #holiday asks #cs fluff #cs angst

[zaharadessert]

A Dream of Home (12/12)

Summary: Life with the Gold Pack has never been smooth sailing for Emma Swan, and things are getting worse now the pack leader's son has decided he wants her for his mate. Nothing she says or does seems to deter him, or deter his parents from encouraging the match. Emma's only hope is a promise someone made her seventeen years ago; a promise she's forgotten about in all but the deepest recesses of her dreams.

Rating: Explicit (non-con, graphic violence, minor-ish character death but nothing really specific in this chapter)

Notes: Thank you as always to Tori ( @resident-of-storybrooke​ ) for the amazing job you’ve done betaing this monster, I can’t believe this is the last chapter. To the beautiful Masha ( @mariakov81​ ), for the utterly stunning art for this chapter and the rest of the art for this entire story. You are an amazing artist, and I have loved every single piece of art you’ve made me. Every time you sent me one I felt giddy with excitement and I feel the same every time I look at any of them. Thank you so much, you have done an amazing job. So, this is it. I can only hope you’re happy with how it ends. I am so pleased with how this story has turned out, and I’d like to send a special thank you to @hollye for being a sounding board for how to make that happen.

Taglist: @jrob64​ @xhookswenchx​ @kmomof4​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @superchocovian​ @lfh1226-linda​ @teamhook​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @tiganasummertree​ @onceratheart18​ @snowbellewells​ @karlyfr13s​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @ouatpost​ @cssns​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @winterbaby89​ @thepirateandhisson​ @xarandomdreamx​

As always, let me know if you’d like me to add you to my taglist! :D

Read on AO3

- - - - -

Emma and her parents had talked for a long time, really gotten down to the nitty gritty of what had happened to her, how she’d been the Omega Neal had nearly killed, how the other members of Gold’s pack had treated her. The way she’d felt manipulated into feeling like she owed them something for looking after her for all those years.

Emma was fairly certain she’d cried herself out at this point. But she should have known not to underestimate how deep emotions could run. Because as she drew closer to Killian’s apartment the smell of grilled cheese grew stronger. It was only then that she realised how hungry she was.

She blinked back the water in her eyes as she pushed the door open and saw Killian smiling cautiously at her from the stove. He looked more relaxed than he had earlier, and she was glad of that, but he saw his forehead crease in concern at how emotionally wrung out she looked.

“I’m okay,” she reassured him as she walked over and slipped her arms around his waist. “It’s just… been a lot,” she admitted. He hummed in agreement and she felt it vibrating through her. She couldn’t help but smile at the feeling.

“I thought it might be, I figured grilled cheese would work whether you were upset by or happy with the outcome of your conversation though,” he replied, dropping a kiss to her head.

“It was… productive. There were a lot of things they needed to hear that I’m not sure I was quite ready to say but… I’m glad I did.”

Killian’s arm tightened around her, and with the other hand he flipped the sandwiches. Emma sighed as she rested her head against his chest.

“He needs time, Killian, he gets that we made the choices that were best for us, but… it’ll be okay,” she said quietly as the frying pan sizzled behind her. “We just need to… be respectful of his current sensitivity…?” She wasn’t quite sure those were the right words, but they were the best she had to explain it. “He just… feels short changed. They thought I was dead for seventeen years and they had me back for a matter of days before I left again and… he just feels like he’s lost me. And I know it’s different, and he knows that isn’t what we intended, but I can’t expect him to accept this so quickly when we had weeks to work through our emotions to get to this point.”

Killian would have growled in anger at the slight had things been different.

Emma was his mate, and he was damned if he was going to curb his affections because it made anyone else feel uncomfortable.

But making her father feel uncomfortable would make Emma feel awkward, and he couldn’t do that to her. He would not do that to her.

“Whatever it takes, my love,” he murmured into her hair.

“He wants to talk to you,” she said tentatively.

“Oh?”

“Apparently, even though we’re already mated, there are still things a father needs to say.”

“I would imagine so,” he said tentatively. His father hadn’t survived long enough to instil those kinds of lessons in him. Losing your parents young was something most of them had in common.

“I love you,” she said, pulling her head off his chest to look up at him. “Thank you for cooking me lunch,” she said with a smile.

“I wanted to say thank you, you…” he took a breath. “Last night you were… amazing I… I would not have gotten through being worried about Liam alive, let alone sane without you, Swan, and I…”

There was a beat where words seemed to fail him. When she looked into his eyes and saw everything she needed to know. It was a feeling that took her breath away, even as the corner of her mouth quirked up in a smile.

Before he realised what was happening, his hand was tangled in her hair and he was pulling her in for a kiss. His connection to her overwhelming him with need to feel her against him, to feel their connection as more than just a feeling in his gut that he couldn’t shake.

“Emma,” he growled into her mouth, and he felt her shiver against him.

After a long moment, she pulled back, breathless.

“You offered food as thank you, deliver on that and then you can thank me properly later,” she teased with a wink.

It was in that moment that they both realised how far she’d come from the girl Graham had begged him to save.

- - - - -

Killian’s hands were clenched tightly around his own interlocked fingers. He could feel his nails digging crescent shaped marks into his own skin as he waited for David. He’d promised to talk to him, and here he was.

He didn’t think he’d ever been so nervous in his life. Not when he’d been waiting to leave to go and get Emma, not when he’d been tearing his hair out trying to work out what to do to stop Emma pulling away from him. If this went badly, he didn’t want to think what that would mean for him and Emma. He wouldn’t give her up for the world but...

He heard David’s footsteps and stood up, the door opened and Killian could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

“Hey,” he said quietly. David’s jaw clenched and Killian felt the muscle in his own ticking.

“I’m not going to pretend that this makes me happy, not right now anyway. But… You make her happy, and I do see that. I do…” David paused and turned away, his hands settling on his hips. “I’ve always felt like I failed her, and then we find her alive and I…” he turned back to Killian. “I don’t expect you to understand for a while yet but… But in a way I guess you do,” he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “If you hurt her, Killian, there will not be a place on this earth in which you can hide from me.”

“If I hurt her, David, you won’t need to hunt me down,” he replied vehemently.

- - - - -

The packs had all walked out into the woods at various points over the last hour. Killian and Emma were one of the last to leave the building, Emma had been nervous about changing around so many wolves she didn’t know, and Killian had wanted to take the extra moments with just them to make sure she knew that at the end of the day she belonged wherever he was.

The air was cool on her exposed skin and for maybe the first time in her life, Emma found herself longing for the warm prickle of fur growing over her skin. Her senses were on overdrive and she could smell everyone.

Killian could feel her unease like it was his own. Like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

He took a breath and looked around to make sure David wasn’t too close and pulled her closer.

“Hey, if you need me to say it again, I will…” he murmured into her hair as he threaded their fingers together.

Emma closed her eyes and sighed as their foreheads settled together.

“I don’t know, I…”

“It’s alright, love, just breathe…” he said, his hand moving to cup her cheek. “Relax, my love,” Emma shivered, and let her head drop back, exposing her neck. “I’m here for you, with you, you’re safe.”

Emma gripped the front of his shirt with her free hand as the moonlight broke through the clouds and she felt her spine tingle. A soft gasp broke from her lips as he threaded his hand into her hair and pulled her into his chest.

“I love you.”

Emma only managed to hum in response before she started to shift, her bones shifting into their new form. She was still panting when it was over, but whereas before his presence had been somewhat of a surprise, she could feel him now. She could feel him next to her before she even opened her eyes. She’d been aware of him all the way through her transformation, and she realised that although she’d been nervous about the new wolves she would be spending her night with… she’d never been scared.

When Killian lifted his head off the ground, she was already looking at him. Those beautiful green eyes he’d fallen so in love with over the last few weeks looking patiently back at him. He shifted and nuzzled against her muzzle with his own, relishing in the sensations, practically feeling her scent rolling over him and seeping into his fur. He wanted to bathe in it, she was intoxicating, she was everything.

I’m good it was a whisper, but the sensation of projecting to him like that was… Is this because we? It was clearer, stronger than it had been at the last full moon, and that was the only thing she could think of that had changed. Could the others hear them right now?

I’m as new to this bit as you are, love damn that was. Hearing her voice projected in his head during the last full moon had done nothing to prepare him for this.

Suddenly he felt a prickle across his back, and he leapt to his feet putting himself in between Emma and whatever he’d sensed approaching with a growl. Teeth bared and hackles up he found himself face to face with a pair of cowering wolves. One tan, the other dark brown. It took him a few deep breaths, and Emma shifting behind him and nuzzling into his side for him to calm down and realise that Lily and August weren’t a threat.

Sorry I…

Mom said this was going to take some getting used to, we get through the first half an hour and then we can go off on our own she said gently, reassuringly.

He looked back at Emma, who looked up at him, glanced at August and Lily and then back at him. She moved up to stand beside him and sighed contentedly as she leaned into him.

Sorry, we didn’t mean to startle you August said, and Emma’s eyes widened in surprise. She’d expected his voice to be muffled like it had been before, but it came through almost as clear as Killian’s had last month.

Lily cocked her head as she looked at Emma, obviously she’d sensed how shocked she was.

What is it? she asked.

Emma shifted awkwardly wondering if she could admit what was going on in a way Lily would understand without making her feel any more guilty than she already did.

I’ve never heard you this clearly before, it’s always been muffled I… she looked across at Killian and was fairly sure that if she’d had this realisation in human form she’d have been sobbing with happiness. I belong she said.

We never meant for you to feel like you didn’t, Emma August said carefully.

I know, you guys and Graham always came through clearest but… I guess I always knew my family was somewhere else

I’m sorry, Emma, for everything Lily said, dipping her head. Emma took a step forward, they touched noses and Emma could feel the tenuous connection between them. She wanted it to be stronger, and in that moment, she realised she’d already forgiven Lily. Her mother may have been part of that pack, but Lily had been as in danger of having been manipulated as Emma had been, and her own mother had shown disappointment that she’d only managed to produce a Beta.

We’re good she promised. Lily glanced up at her in surprise, but Emma shot her a wolfish smile. She was fairly certain Lily had never seen her so comfortable in any skin, let alone this one.

Emma let out a playful growl and pounced on her.

Lily yelped in surprise and behind the pair, the sound coming out of Killian’s mouth sounded very much like laughter. Emma and Lily were a blur of brown and almost white fur as they play fought, drawing the attention of more than a few wolves.

Killian looked over at David and Snow, both a dusky pale brown and David starting to show a little paler at the muzzle now. Leo, who’s first moon had been last month, was a distinctive charcoal grey with pale socks and chest, came bounding over yipping excitedly. David looked like he was about to head his son off, but Killian caught the low growl Snow let out to stop him.

EMMA! he shouted loudly into their heads as he leapt at the tangle of fur that was the two best friends.

Leo landed on Emma and she yelped in surprise, but she soon had her little brother pinned and was nipping playfully at his sides, making him squirm. She was pleased to discover that he was as ticklish in this form as he was in human form.

Stop, Emma that tickles!

That’s what you get for sneaking up on me, baby brother! she replied, the laughter and joy clear in the tone of her thoughts.

Killian’s heart ached. One of his greatest joys when he’d been a young wolf was the playing, the unbridled joy at the feeling of freedom. It was only just starting to dawn on him that Emma hadn’t ever had that. She’d never felt free in this form until last month, and she was only just starting to learn what feeling free around other wolves meant for her.

David and Snow approached slowly, and Killian hung back. August joined in the play with Leo, and a couple of the other younger wolves came over to join in too. Emma extricated herself and padded over to her parents.

Hey she said tentatively, with a cautious dip of her head, but when she looked up at her parents, she saw something he didn’t expect.

She could feel their awe, their pride and joy in seeing her like this. She swallowed, not really knowing what to do. She was their daughter, but she was another wolf’s mate and this was all so much to deal with. With a soft whimper, and ever aware of Killian somewhere behind her, she nuzzled into her mother’s neck.

I missed you, she admitted quietly. I didn’t know what I was missing but I missed it. she was struggling to breathe, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. Not really. Not in the way other things had felt, not in the way the absence of any kind of tangible connection with anyone around her had been.

David let out a low rumble in his throat, glancing back at Killian before joining his mate in the physical contact with their daughter.

How could Killian have denied him that? He could feel what Emma was going through, not as deeply as someone so used to this as David or Snow might, but he knew that over time this bond between them would grow almost to the point where they didn’t need to talk to understand each other in this form.

He could have listened in if he wanted to, unless Emma had worked out that she could communicate privately with members of her family the same way she could with him, or members of their section of the pack as it were when they eventually had them. He watched, ever mindful of everything going on around them, unable to let his guard down yet when a lot of this was so new to him. He’d experienced a full moon with most of these wolves before, of course, but never with Emma by his side.

We missed you too, sweetheart, I wish... David didn’t need to say it, she could feel it, that longing for their lost time. She could feel it from him and from where it had blossomed in her own chest as her own form of that feeling.

It’s alright, Dad, she assured him. And it was. There was nothing they could have done when they didn’t know. Nothing that could have stopped Gold doing what he had done. He needed to let go of the guilt he was carrying or he was never going to get used to seeing her with Killian, because that wasn't going to change and he was going to run out of patience with having to keep himself in check all the time. Forgive yourself, let it go, please.

David pulled back and looked down at her. He looked over at Killian, and then at Snow. Lifting his muzzle high into the air and tilting his head back, he howled.

The sound of it made Emma’s spine tingle.

It was full of grief, so overwhelmingly despairing that she almost cowered under the weight of it.

Emma looked over her shoulder at Killian.

He moved slowly over to join them, and Emma leaned into his side without hesitation.

Snow’s head tipped back as she joined in with her mate’s howl. Releasing their grief into the night. When it faded, David took a deep breath and howled again, this one was joyful and full of hope and promise. Gently Killian nudged her side and then pointed his nose at the sky. She understood his meaning without words.

She sucked in a breath and felt the power build in her chest, before pushing and letting the rush of air turn into the first real howl she’d ever made. The tension that had built in her muscles while she’d been talking to her parents melted into insignificance with the rush of air and emotion she sent up to the moon.

Other wolves joined in, Leo nuzzling his way into the group. But it was only as the music of their cries faded that she realised how only now, with Killian and Leo here too, did she feel complete. Yes, Emma was Killian’s mate, but she was always more than that. She was something to everyone here.

Wolves need more than just mates; they need a pack. She needed all of this, and to trust and believe in herself to feel this way. No one could do that for her.

He could feel eyes on him, especially when brown furred Liam and pale, silvery-grey Elsa came over to join them. There was something about the way Liam looked at him that was different to the last time they’d changed under the light of the moon together. Killian wasn’t sure what to think, but he decided that now really wasn’t the time to dwell on it. Liam it seemed, had a different view on the matter.

You’re an Alpha, brother, he said.

I think we established that a while ago, Liam,

No, I mean... You’ve actually embraced it, you’ve always been content to just be but now...

Killian looked from Liam to David, a little confused. The older wolf cocked his head at Killian, like he was really looking at him for the first time in a long time.

I don’t understand, Killian pressed, wanting answers and wishing his brother would stop being so cryptic and that David would stop looking at him like that.

You learned to lead, brother, Liam said as though that explained everything.

Killian wasn’t sure it did, but David turned away from the group then and with a quick lick to her daughter’s face, Snow followed.

Leo butted Emma in the shoulder with his head before joining them.

You two look good together, Elsa said kindly, looking across at Emma.

If Emma could have, she would have blushed, as it was she dropped her gaze to the floor and leaned into her mate a little.

Thanks, she murmured quietly, not really sure what to say. So, are you two…?

We’re seeing where things go. Elsa said, tilting her head coyly with a shy gleam in her eyes.

Not everyone works as quickly as you, Killian Liam said, clearly trying to make a joke, but it fell short, and Killian growled.

Liam! Elsa snapped, the same way Snow had snapped at Charming outside the medical suite.

I think you mean I worked quickly, I’ll have you know I proposed the idea Emma sassed with a tilt of her head and a defiant flick of her tail. Once again, her quick wit both diffused the situation and stunned Liam into silence. And I’ll thank you to stop trying to embarrass my mate on our first full moon with the rest of the pack.

It was phrased so carefully that Killian simply blinked down at her. Liam was being an ass because they were brothers, that was all, he was trying to make jokes and Killian didn’t like it. Emma, clearly wasn’t going to stand for it, even if it meant facing off against another alpha on a full moon.

I think I need to stop embarrassing myself, Liam replied, shifting awkwardly.

Emma decided she’d said enough that they should all let the matter drop.

Aye, brother, maybe you should, Killian finally managed to speak. Shall we? he asked Emma and she nodded.

Have a good night, Liam, Elsa, she said, resolving to make time to get to know the other woman better.

Have I told you how sexy it is when you stand up for me like that? Killian’s voice was low in her ear. He was the Alpha, it was true, but when an omega like Emma was allowed to be herself and grow as part of a partnership… If Killian didn’t already know he was lost he would now.

Emma looked back at him as she started to move away and swished her tail. Even if you had, I’d never object to you telling me again, she sassed with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

Killian huffed, and it sounded like a chuckle. He trotted to catch up with her and nudged her flank with his nose. She darted to the side a little, and then with a playful look back at him she took off at a run.

Killian howled joyfully and chased after her, letting his claws dig into the dirt under his paws, relishing in the stretch as his muscles contracted to power him forward after Emma, after his mate. And damn did she look good running ahead of him. The way her fur shone under the silver light of the moon, the way her limbs powered across the uneven ground. It didn’t matter what teasing comments Liam threw at him really, it didn’t matter what David thought even though upsetting his friend was something he’d never wanted. He would follow her to the end of the world if he had to.

- - - - -

A few days later, Emma was standing at the stove wearing Killian’s bathrobe when he came out of the bedroom. He slipped his arms around her waist and nuzzled his nose into her hair for a moment, breathing her in before letting the tip of his nose run around the shell of her ear, letting his teeth graze the lobe. She squirmed a little in his arms and he felt the tremor of a shiver running down her spine.

“Something smells delicious,” he said with a smirk.

“It’s just from a box…” she protested, casting her gaze across at him.

“I wasn’t talking about the pancakes,” he murmured, and she bit her lip, turning her head a little so that his nose pressed into her cheek, but she didn’t stop there. She dropped the spatula she’d been holding and turned in his arms, bringing her lips to meet his as her fingers tangled in his hair.

He pressed her into the counter, their heads turning this way and that as their kiss grew into a passionate declaration of their affections.

Emma couldn’t imagine ever getting enough of Killian and, if the way he was already hardening at her thigh was any indication, it was likely he felt the same. She pulled back and looked up at him with quiet wonder in her eyes.

“What is it?” he asked, his forehead creasing slightly in concern.

“I’m happy,” she said with a soft smile. “I guess… it still surprises me sometimes.”

“Aye, my love, I’m happy too,” he agreed and leaned in for a gentler kiss this time.

But when Emma’s arms wound round his neck, gentle quickly turned passionate once more.

“To hell with the pancakes,” Emma moaned against his lips.

Killian grinned into the kiss and pulled her away from the stove, lifting her up onto the island. It didn’t take more than nudging her knee with his hips for her to spread her legs and let him step between them.

“My sentiments exactly,” he agreed before diving back into the kiss, tilting his head to bring their lips back together, his fingers tangling in her blonde curls, her scent strong in his nostrils and he could tell from the way she was squirming and pressing herself against him that she was more than ready for whatever he had in mind in lieu of breakfast.

His hand slipped inside the robe, and he was just about to pull down the front of her camisole top and let his mouth explore the treasures beneath when…

There was a knock on the door.

Killian’s head dropped to Emma's shoulder with a sigh. Part of him hoped that by not answering whoever was on the other side of the door would go away.

But that was not to be.

“Emma?” David said. “Killian?” he called a little louder.

“I’m going to need a minute,” Killian said tightly, barely even whispering so that only Emma would hear.

“Just a second!” she called, and pulled him up for just the briefest of kisses before she crawled over the island and hopped off the other side.

“Bloody vixen,” came the disgruntled grumble behind her. She heard Killian’s footsteps retreating and readjusted the robe before she finished crossing to the door.

“Hey Dad, what can I do for you?” she asked with a bright smile when she opened it. Snow had been here before, but David had been avoiding Killian’s apartment since they got back. He stepped in for a hug, and from what she could tell he seemed to be in a good mood.

“I uh… I wanted to talk to the pair of you,” he said carefully. “Is Killian around?”

“He’s just getting dressed I think, he’ll be out in a minute.”

“I’m not interrupting anything am I?” David asked, looking her over.

“No, I was… just making pancakes…” Emma said, gesturing at the plateful by the stove.

“Oh, right, yes I see that now,” David agreed. Emma moved back to the stove to turn it off before anything caught fire.

“David, good morning,” Killian said as he walked out of the short corridor leading to the bedrooms. “Anything the matter?” he asked.

“No, I… could we sit?” he suggested, gesturing at the soft chairs in the living area.

“Sure,” Emma said and slipped her hand into Killian’s as they headed over, they sat down next to each other on the couch. Emma as close as she could get without being in his lap. They’d agreed to be respectful, but this was their home and her father had come here. She wasn’t going to change her behaviour in their space.

David took the armchair and placed a small box on the coffee table.

“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get used to this. I love both of you, and the fact that you make each other so happy brings me more joy than you can imagine. Though, actually I hope one day you know what that feels like.” David cleared his throat and reached for the box again. He opened it and smiled at the contents, not showing it to them yet.

“You know, my mother was an Alpha, and my father was her Omega. It’s an unusual dynamic but actually our pack was one of the longest running matriarchies in the world. A few hundred years ago, when it was significantly less common for women to be in charge and even less so for women to make the decision about who they married, one of our ancestors challenged her father and won the right to choose her own mate. She won and instead of marking the union with a ring she created a tradition of cresting.

Every child in our family has had one since, the idea being that when you choose your mate you give them this representation of you as an outward indicator of your bond. We had this made when you were born and I think…” he flushed a little and rubbed the back of his neck. “I know that giving this to your mate is your choice, Emma, not mine.”

He closed the box and handed it over.

Emma took it carefully and opened it up again.

Inside was a shield shaped pendant on a rope chain. Both silver in colour, though Emma could tell from the shine that they were something a little more hardwearing. The shield was quartered with a lion in the bottom right, and snowdrops bottom left. The top left quarter held a Swan, and the top right was empty. A single Fleur De Lis sat in the centre where all four quarters met.

“Dad…” Emma didn’t know what to say.

“So, there’s me and your mother on the bottom, you’re our first child so one Fleur De Lis, the empty quarter is for something that represents your mate, it’s supposed to symbolise your freedom to choose, and the other one is… you…”

“That’s a Swan…” Emma said, surprised at the contents of her quarter.

“I didn’t realise until I looked at it the other day, but yes,” David agreed.

Killian hadn’t said a word since they’d sat down. He was just staring at the crest where he had been staring at David until Emma opened the box.

“Looks like you’re going to have to decide what you want in this corner,” Emma said with a smile as she looked up at him.

Killian’s gaze snapped to her face and he looked at her in awe. He swallowed.

“That’s a big decision, Swan,” he said carefully, talking about both what he might consider putting in that corner to represent himself and the fact that she wanted to give it to him.

“I’ve made mine, time for you to make yours.”

Killian didn’t care that David was there, and that this new acceptance, while clearly decisive with this gesture being so big, had taken some time to achieve. All he cared about was that she was so certain of this, of them, that she was giving him this symbol that represented her, to wear as a physical symbol of their bond for him. This thing that she should have been wearing her entire life was going to grace his neck. A tangible reminder that she had chosen him. She would always choose him. She was going to amend her personal crest to include him.

She had the mark on her shoulder, and he would have this.

His hand moved to her shoulder and his fingers traced the bite marks on her skin.

“I already did, my love.”

Sensing what was about to happen, David excused himself, and exited the apartment quickly.

Emma beamed up at him, and Killian carefully took the box from her. She pulled the chain from the cushion and secured it around his neck with shaking fingers, letting them run round the chain and down onto his chest before looking up at him again.

“I love you, Killian,” she said quietly. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to make a choice, but I choose you.”

Her eyes were glassy as she blinked back tears, her face bright with joy as she looked up at him.

“Thank you for choosing me, for letting me give you my heart,” he replied. “I love you, Emma.”

She tilted her head and pressed her lips to his, firm and deliberate as her hand slipped up to the back of his neck, her fingers twisting into the strands of his hair. His own gripped her waist, pulling her into his lap, needing her as close as he could get her.

Killian didn’t care who else knocked on that bloody door, they weren’t answering it.

#cs ff #Captain Swan #cssns 2021 #A Dream of Home #ZaharaDessert Writes #art by mariakov81 #werewolf au #abo au

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Pan Says... (8/?)

Summary: After waking up in a strange room with a naked stranger, Emma and Killian must endure the twisted game their kidnapper insists they play in order to gain provisions and avoid punishments.

A/N: Look at me getting another chapter up within a month of the previous update! I can't tell y'all how much your replies, reblogs, comments, likes, kudos have meant to me.

I have plotted out the remainder of this story and I believe we'll have 2-3 more chapters. It all depends on how wordy I get, lol. The muse has been very generous as of late, so fingers crossed that I can wrap this up before I need to work on my supernatural summer fic in earnest.

Lots of love to @ultraluckycatnd and @kmomof4 for their exceptional beta skills!

Rated E /Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six  / Part Seven

Chapter Prompts: I received a couple of prompts asking for the scenarios I've mentioned in this update. I have glanced over them a bit, though. I hope the prompters won't mind.

Warnings: Mentions of anal sex, edging, mutual masturbation, exhibitionism and voyeurism.

Part Eight

Killian collapsed back onto the bed, thoroughly spent and utterly exhausted. The mattress shook from the way Emma’s legs were quivering, her knees and upper body anchored to the bed with her ass in the air, still presented. The ass he’d just taken as a way of technically complying to Pan’s most recent command without actually doing the thing he knew Pan had meant for him to do.

Pan Says… come inside her this time.

The command had only been issued to Killian; a new twist to this particular round of the game. Instructions were given to only one of them at a time, usually when the other was in the lavatory or still asleep, and no longer delivered audibly. They were not permitted to share what the exact instruction was with each other, and had to therefore trust that their compliance to the other’s words was what Pan required.

The morning after their reunion was when it had all started. He’d come back from relieving himself to find Emma awake and looking slightly confused and distressed.

“Swan? What is it? What happened?”

“I… I can’t tell you,” she said. “He said I’m not supposed to tell you I just have to…”

Killian climbed back into bed and took her hand in his. “It’s alright, love,” he assured her. “Whatever it is he’s told you, you won’t have to go through it alone.”

Her eyes flicked up to his, swirling with contrition and a sense of determination. “I know,” she replied. Pushing against his chest, she forced him to lay back as she began to peel his pajama pants down his legs. “I need you to pay attention, because” she paused, swallowed hard, then wet her lips. “Swan says… everything I’m about to do to you, you will have to reciprocate in kind.”

Those next two days they had licked and kissed and sucked and branded and tongued every inch of each other. Exploring one another’s body with nothing more than their mouths.

The third day of Round Three had them experimenting with various toys and apparatus. He’d been told to edge her all day with the various wands and vibrators as she lay tied up from the four corners of the bed. It had been torture. Reducing her to a whimpering, begging, desperate collection of moans, tears, and sobs when all he wanted to do was alleviate the torment. But he’d dared not. Not after the last time they had disobeyed.

He was certain he would get his comeuppance on day four, especially when they woke to a basket of anal toys, in an assortment of styles and sizes. All Pan had required of them that day, however - delivered through a Swan Says… - was to shower and then fit each other with a plug, presumably to begin the process for more anal play later on.

Knowing they both had to be live wires of pent up sexual frustration by this point, day five had been mutual masturbation day.

“Your Captain says… touch yourself, love,” Killian instructed, stroking his cock as he watched Emma pleasure herself.

They had shared a total of eleven orgasms that day, and had become further acquainted with the various toys and butt plugs Pan insisted not go to waste.

Now, day six, Killian was allowed to penetrate his Swan with something other than his tongue or his fingers or a bit of vibrating silicone, but only under one condition… that he finish inside her.

Pan never said anything about it having to be in her cunt, so he’d taken advantage of the ambiguity by taking her ass instead, since they’d both been stretching and preparing themselves for anal play.

And fuck him if it hadn’t felt amazing - the defiance and the tight, forbidden depths in which he’d just spilled himself. Glancing over at Emma, her face shimmering from a sheen of sweat with an expression of sated and elated ecstasy, he knew she had enjoyed it too… but then of course, she did not know the full reason as to why he’d taken her ass and not her pussy.

She was no longer protected from the threat of an unwanted pregnancy.

“Wow,” Emma exhaled. “That was…”

“Don’t try and move too much,” he told her as he reached over and helped ease her into a more comfortable position. “Just rest. I’ll go get something to clean us up.”

“And some water,” she called out after him.

“Aye. And water,” he responded, as though he needed reminding.

He didn’t.

A week into Round Three and they had already settled into a routine. A week-long marathon of teasing, edging, training, and orgasms. A week of them taking orders from one another, of placing a new form of trust in the other’s hands. A week of them not talking about what had happened in the weeks before, or more to the point… the moments before this round had begun.

Swallowing thickly, he pulled back and softly whispered, “I love you, Emma.” Then captured her lips before she could reply.

“I think that’s enough sharing for one day,” Pan’s curt tone crackled over the speakers, forcing them apart. “In fact, Pan says no more talking until Round Three begins… which shall be first thing tomorrow morning. Sleep well.”

Killian’s jaw tightened as he watched Emma open and then close her mouth with longing and uncertainty swirling in her gaze. Squeezing his hand, she rolled off the bed and padded her way to the lav. Afterward, they both got dressed and curled up next to one another in bed, the silence between them deafening.

In the past week, she had not reciprocated those words and he had not uttered them again. Not because he hadn’t meant them, because he had. He did. He does. He regretted saying it, though. Regretted giving Pan more ammunition to use against them. Regretted having the memory of those words first said here, in this setting, under these circumstances. Regretted putting her on the spot when he knew, even if she felt the same, she couldn’t possibly be ready to say it back to him. And that was okay. He never wanted to push or pressure her, they had enough to contend with from the outside demands of their ‘host’. So, for now, all he wanted was to try and make things as easy for her as he could. To protect her and safeguard her to the best of his ability… even if that meant not talking about it and fucking her in the ass in order to keep her from getting pregnant.

“I have something special planned for you,” Pan said, startling him as they finished their aftercare routine. “But it requires a bit of a field trip.”

Confused, they both looked at one another then towards the door as it opened. Killian took her hand as they stood, placing himself in front of her as he always did when they were instructed to leave their cell.

“Pan says to follow the purple line until it ends, then wait for further instructions.”

The purple line? That was a new one. They’d never been instructed to follow that one before. He knew blue led to the showers, green to the rooftop terrace, and yellow to the room where he’d been injected with supposed poison after disobeying Pan’s rules. Emma had told him that she thought the Lost One had carried her along the red line when she’d been taken after their night of lovemaking, so Killian had deduced (and kept the knowledge to himself) that it had led to the medical procedure room.

Following the purple stripe to its unknown destination, Killian made a mental note of the route and cataloged it alongside the other colors. Of course, there was still an orange and black line. Their destination was also a mystery to him, which made making a mental map of the facility difficult, but he attempted to do so nonetheless.

The path ended in a narrow passageway in front of a pane of darkened glass. A hidden panel behind them slid closed, shutting them inside the dead end. Before either of them could question what was happening, the pane in front of them lit up. It wasn’t just glass. It was a window, looking out onto a circular room with tiers of seats that were shielded by thin, see-through screens, their occupants only noticeable in silhouette.

Emma reached out and banged on the window, trying to get someone’s attention, but her efforts were ignored. When someone did pass by - a woman donning an elaborate mask that hid her identity, but not her vanity - and paused to check her red hair, Killian realized…

“It’s a mirror,” he murmured. “A two-way mirror. They can’t see us.”

“Not yet, anyway.” Pan’s voice echoed through the small room. “Besides… their attention is focused elsewhere at the moment.”

Emma gasped, pulling Killian’s focus to where her wide eyes were trained. In the center, lowest level of the room was a rotating platform, and on that platform were two people engaging in various sex acts whilst the spectators behind the screens watched.

“What the fuck is this?”

“An intimate gathering I host one weekend of each month for like-minded friends. Three days of exhibitionist delights and debauched voyeuristic entertainment. This is the second night.”

He paused as dread rolled through Killian’s stomach. His next words made bile creep up his throat.

“You two will be night three’s entertainment.”

“Fuck that!”

“You can’t be bloody serious!”

“I am serious enough that I’m willing to offer you your reward before you meet the terms of my… request.”

Emma scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “There is nothing you could offer that would make either of us--”

“Not even a chance to reach out to your friends and family so you can inform them that you are not only alive, but also in need of their help?”

They both balked then stared at one another. He couldn’t be serious.

“Why would you let us do that?” Killian inquired.

“Because I require your full compliance so that my guests get the experience they’ve paid for. I am, therefore, prepared to compensate you accordingly.”

“In advance?” Emma clarified. “You’d risk us agreeing and notifying our loved ones of the truth only to back out later?”

Pan’s tone sent a chill up Killian’s spine and he knew Emma had been affected by the hushed warning as well.

“I would advise against such schemes. You do not wish to fathom how far I will go in punishing those who embarrass me in front of my guests.”

“What if we simply refuse all together?” Killian asked, knowing there had to be a penalty of equal weight to the reward being offered.

“Then your association with one another is of no further use to me, and I shall reassign you to partners with whom you might be a bit more agreeable to my requests.”

Emma pressed herself into Killian’s side as he protectively wrapped his arms around her waist. They clung to one another, each of them eyeing the door with the fear that it might open and Lost Ones would be waiting to pry them apart.

“The choice is yours,” Pan said. “I’ll give you some time to consider your options.” The panel slid open, revealing the corridor beyond. “Pan says to return to your room. Further information regarding tomorrow night’s entertainment will be waiting for you.”

~/~

Emma couldn’t stop the tremors coursing through her body. She wasn’t sure how she had made it back to their cell on such shaky legs, and the items awaiting them once they’d returned had done nothing to help alleviate her body’s physical response to the dread and anxiety overwhelming her.

In the center of the room was a table that held an old fashioned, corded phone. It had only three buttons on the dial panel; one labeled Nolan, one labeled Liam, and one labeled Decline. Next to the phone was a binder, and within it were the rules, expectations, and procedures for the night of entertainment she and Killian were meant to supply to Pan and his perverted guests.

A note also accompanied the binder. It read, Pan says to discuss the instructions in full before making your choice. Should you choose to comply, make your calls accordingly. Should you choose to decline, press the appropriate button and my Lost Ones will see to your reassignment.

“Say something,” Killian pleaded. Having read through the binder aloud, he’d tossed it over his shoulder then slumped forward with his head in his hands and his elbows braced against his knees.

“What is there to say?” she said, on the edge of panic. “We can’t refuse him. I can’t… I can’t lose you. I can’t let someone else… I can’t--”

“Hey. Hey, it’s alright,” he soothed, gathering her in his arms and cradling her against his chest. “I know.” His lips brushed the crown of her head and his chest rose and fell from a deep, fortifying breath. “But we have to discuss it. We have to talk it through. I won’t give him any reason to separate us. No loopholes.”

Emma nodded and pulled back so she could stare up into his face. “You’re right. We have to follow his instructions to the letter if we want to avoid penalty or punishment, and as much as I really don’t relish the idea of having to” -she gestured towards the binder- “do that. The idea of being forced apart makes me…”

“Aye. Me, too.” Reaching back he picked up the binder and opened it across his lap. “The good news is… none of the spectators are allowed to touch us or participate physically in any of the acts we perform on one another.”

“Yeah,” Emma groused. “They just get to dictate what acts we perform.”

Pan’s guests essentially got to be him for a night. Each of them would be able to make suggestions and vote on what sort of acts they wanted to see their entertainment perform on one another. Those requests would then be relayed to them through an ear bud or in some other manner.

Requests involving excessive violence or anything that might leave a permanent mark would not be permitted. She and Killian would have their identity obscured through the use of a domino mask and could opt to have an alias used in lieu of their actual names as well. Of course, they both had distinguishing features that could give away their identities, but what were the odds of them ever encountering these people again?

“Do you want to fill out the form first?” Killian asked, referring to the questionnaire Pan had provided, allowing them each to select up to ten items they absolutely would not consent to. “Or we could go over it together, if you’d prefer?”

If she’d prefer? Did it even matter anymore as to what she would prefer?

Emma’s chest tightened and her stomach dropped as the periphery of her vision darkened and blurred spots floated in her vision. A dull ringing began to develop in her ears, strengthening in its tone, pitch, and volume as the pressure in her lungs grew critical and she realized she’d been holding her breath. Rage bubbled up from her stomach and despair stung the corners of her eyes.

This was it, she realized. This was her breaking point. Emma had absolutely had enough.

Launching herself off the bed she stomped to the center of the room and rounded on Killian. “No! I don’t want to go over the questionnaire! I don’t want to discuss everything involved with tomorrow night’s entertainment! I don’t want to do any of this! I want to go home!”

Hysterics overtook her and she crumpled to the floor, but not before Killian wrapped her up in his arms to help break her fall. Clinging to him, she wept into his shoulder, her body practically convulsing from the release of pent up emotions and strain.

“I know, love,” Killian murmured, his voice tight and gravely from his own held back emotions. He continued to comfort her with soft words of nonsense as his hand caressed soothing circles over her back. After several long minutes, she could feel dampness against her hairline and when she pulled back to glance up, she found it was because Killian had started shedding tears of his own.

A few hiccups escaped her as she tried to calm herself. Killian’s hands cupped her face and he brushed away her tears with the pads of his thumbs before pressing his forehead to hers.

“Just you and me, love,” he whispered. “We will face this new degradation as we have all the others. Together.”

Pulling back, he brushed her hair away from her face, carding his fingers through the long strands and gently scratching her scalp in the way he knew she liked. “We will forget about Pan and those who have come to witness our debasement and focus only on one another. Aye?”

“Aye,” she replied in a sorry attempt to mimic his accent, which pulled a small smile from him. Flicking her gaze up to meet his, she said, “I’m sorry. I--”

“You never have to apologize to me, love,” he replied, wrapping her in his arms again and holding her tightly to his chest. “It’s a wonder we’ve both gone this long since our last breaking point.”

Emma laughed mirthlessly. He had a point. This certainly wasn’t the first time one of them had fallen to pieces and thrown a well deserved tantrum, allowing the homesickness, injustice, and despair to spill over from their boiling points. Allowing him to pick her up off the floor, she tried to bury the worry about whether or not it would be the last.

“What would you say,” Killian began, leading them back over to the bed and sitting them on the edge, “to us choosing our false names, our aliases as it were, and proceeding in those personas as a way of distancing ourselves from it?”

“You mean like… pretending this is all happening to someone else?”

“In a way.” Killian took her hand and threaded his fingers between hers. “It might allow us to… dissociate from having to fully experience it ourselves if we think about it happening to… The Captain and… whatever pseudonym you might select for yourself, instead.”

Emma rolled her bottom lips between her teeth and considered the suggestion. It would be like role play. The audience wouldn’t be seeing them, wouldn’t be controlling them, they’d be witnessing two characters crafted to play out a role that was separate from the actors themselves. The thought of that released a bit more of tension she was holding onto and an exhale passed over her lips, carrying her agreement.

“Yes. I like that idea.” Cocking her head to one side, she looked up at him with a teasing smirk and taunted, “The Captain?”

A blush bloomed across his cheeks and tinted the tips of his ears as he reached up to paw at the patch of skin behind his jawline. “Aye. Uh… I thought it might serve as a fitting moniker.”

“Hmmm,” Emma hummed with a coy glint in her eye. “I like it.” Wetting her lips, which almost always centered his focus on her mouth, Emma dipped her gaze then flicked it back up, peering at him from beneath her lashes as she sultrily inquired, “Would the Captain be agreeable to having a naughty Wench at his side for tomorrow’s night entertainment?”

A wicked smile stretched across his lips, and she could see the gleam of relief and pride flicker in his eyes before they turned dark and heated. “Oh, aye,” he replied in a deep timbre that damn near made her toes curl. “I think the Captain would enjoy a naughty Wench’s companionship very much indeed.” Plucking a paper from the binder, he held it out to her and with his Captain’s voice ordered, “Be a good little Wench and fill this out so your Captain knows all the deplorable things he’ll get to do to you.”

“Aye, aye… Captain.”

Part Nine - Coming Soon!

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)

@kmomof4 @jrob64 @zaharadessert @laianely @booksteaandtoomuchtv @the-darkdragonfly @undercaffinatednightmare @killianxswan @mie779 @motherkatereloyshipper @jennjenn615 @jonesfandomfanatic @anmylica @superchocovian @caught-in-the-filter @winterbaby89 @wyntereyez @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @gingerchangeling @exhaustedpirate @cocohook38 @donteattheappleshook @lfh1226-linda @teamhook @jackieorioncat @paradiselady19 @snowbellewells @earanemith @ultraluckycatnd @pirateherokillian @calmjoonie @unworried-corsair @teamhook @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @captainswan-kellie @soniccat @kday426 @djlbg @fairytalepretzkle @maggiegreenvt @natascha-ronin @ilovemesomekillianjones @iamstartraveller776 @deckerstarblanche @shadowsaur @qualitycoffeethings @idristardis

#csff #cs ff #csfic #cs fic #cs au #cs smut #pans says... #captain swan #words by hollye

[cssns]

Here’s Another Sneak Peek Y’all!!

@hollyethecurious​ is dropping her Vampire Diary’s inspired two shot, The Craving In Between, tomorrow with artwork by @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713​. Here’s a little taste to whet your appetite! Be sure to give her lots of love!!

Emma turned down the last alleyway leading to her house when she stopped short. Halfway down the narrow corridor was a couple locked in an intimate embrace, the man’s mouth kissing the woman’s neck as she let out sounds that sent a ripple of awkwardness over Emma’s skin. She was about to turn around and head back out of the alley, hopefully undetected, when the man lifted his head and Emma’s heart dropped into her stomach.   

His pale face glowed in the soft light attempting to dispel the darkness of the alley from the street beyond. An expression of unbridled satisfaction beset his features, sending Emma’s pulse racing. His eyes snapped open, the vivid blue of his irises only a thin sliver outlining his blown wide pupils that were now trained on her. Her breath stuttered when his tongue swept over his lips and flicked at the corner of his mouth. The corner where something dark and viscous seemed to cling.   

Dark and viscous like the line of fluid slowly trailing down the neck of the woman still wrapped in his arms. Killian’s arms. 

Breaking off whatever invisible hold his eyes had on her, Killian turned his attention to the woman, a co-ed, Emma could now determine. Murmuring something Emma was too far away to hear, he pulled out a square of folded fabric and gently wiped it against her neck. The girl’s head lolled in some sort of agreed compliance and Killian stepped aside, letting her pass, her steps unsteady as she made her way to the far end of the alley. Bringing up the fabric, Killian dabbed at the corner of his mouth and it was then that Emma realized what the viscous matter was.   

Blood. 

He hadn’t been kissing the girl’s neck. He’d been…  

Emma stumbled backward, and Killian took a determined but unhurried step forward. Condensation hung in the air from the near hyperventilated rate of her breaths. Her legs felt like lead as she tried to get them to move faster, not daring to turn around and put her back to the still approaching… whatever he was.  

He was nearly on her by the time she reached the street, but her name ricocheting off the brick buildings stopped them both in their tracks. Tearing her gaze from him, Emma saw her housemate, Elsa, rushing towards her.  

“Emma! Thank goodness! Neal texted and said you two had a fight. He was worried when you left the bar alone.”  

Emma looked back into the alley, but found it impossibly empty. Elsa followed her gaze when she reached her side.  

“What is it? Did you see something? Emma, what’s wrong? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”  

Not a ghost, Emma thought, finally knowing the truth Neal had tried to impart to her in the bar. He’d been right. Killian Jones wasn’t human. He wasn’t a ghost either.  

Killian Jones… was a vampire.

#cssns20 #sneak peek #words by hollye #the craving in between #art by kayla

[snowbellewells]

Some Buried Treasures {lesser known @hollyethecurious fics}

Today is @hollyethecurious​‘s birthday, and I wanted to do something for the occasion as a gift! <3  The original goal was to write her a story, but the words just have not been coming lately. Then it struck me that I could highlight some of her stories that I don’t see getting as much notice -- even though all of them are brilliant in their own right! Hollye’s writing brings so much enjoyment to the fandom, and these are just a few of those that I have loved, and that I hope may give others a chance to enjoy them too, as well as celebrating her on her special day!

In no particular order...

“Swan and Shadows” (a 40s film noir style snippet in the vein of the Maltese Falcon) I LOVE this one!!

(Even her cover art for it is awesome!!)

“Teachers’ Lounge” (This steamy and humorous oneshot makes me blush and giggle at the same time. Trust me, the lounge at my school has never been anything like this exciting!)

“A Different Kind of Fun” This WIP Modern AU with musician!Killian and performer!Emma is so much fun!  I practically wiggle in my seat with excitement whenever a new chapter posts! I can’t believe it doesn’t have hundreds of reblogs and reviews - this one truly is a hidden jewel that deserves all the kudos and praise!!

“Pressure Points” (Not only will this Whump AU have you on the edge of your seat for both Emma and Killian, but it is an intensely clear illustration of just how well Hollye can put me through the wringer reading her stories, and I keep coming right back for more!)

“Blood Stained”  Another whumpy (and angsty) one shot, though this time more canon divergent than full AU. Our poor pirate! And yet, I love how this one works out in the end. 

“One Season Following Another (Laden with Happiness and Tears)”  This Lieutenant Duckling AU has such sweetness to it as well as adventure and danger and True Love - this one in particular hasn’t yet seen all the love it deserves. Definitely check it out if it’s one you’ve missed!!

#happy birthday @hollyethecurious #birthday rec list #fic by @hollye #birthday wishes

[kmomof4]

A Mistress to No One  A Birthday Fic for hollyethecurious

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HOLLYE!!!!

Today is the birthday of the other of my besties, @hollyethecurious​!!! Benedict is her favorite of the Bridgerton siblings, so to celebrate the day of her birth, I decided to write her a CS fic inspired by his story. I so hope you have a fabulous day and that you enjoy this fic, babe! It’s certainly been a long time coming! Love you to the moon and back again!!!!

All the love and thanks to @jrob64​ and @zaharadessert​ for their betaing expertise, and all the brainstorming sessions they had to endure when I got stuck. Which was a lot... Also boatloads of internet hugs to @motherkatereloyshipper​ for her manips I used in the artwork. Thank you all so much, ladies!!!

The fic is not completely written yet, and it currently stands at a Prologue, Pt. 1 which includes Chs 1-3, and Pt. 2 which includes Chs. 4-8. I’m expecting there to be one or two more chapters, for a total of nine or ten chapters plus the prologue. I’ll be posting this one a little differently. Ch.1 will be posting this Wednesday, Jan. 25, with ch2 posting next Sunday, Jan. 29. From there, chs will be posting weekly.

I so hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

Summary: Bastard Emma Swan enjoys one night of pure magic and romance in the midst of a life of drudgery and abuse- attending a masquerade ball and meeting aristocrat Killian Jones. 

Two years later, the same man she met on the best night of her life reappears, saving her from a dire fate in the process.

Now, she must keep herself from falling in love with a man she can never have. But when that proves impossible, is there any hope for a happy ending between two people from such vastly different worlds?

Rating: M (smut)

Words: Almost 1900

Tags: Birthday Fic, Inspired by Benedict’s Story in Bridgerton, Smut

On ao3

New tag list! Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

@jrob64​ @teamhook​ @winterbaby89​ @hollyethecurious​ @xarandomdreamx​ @undercaffinatednightmare​ @the-darkdragonfly​ @stahlop​ @superchocovian​ @pirateprincessofpizza​ @tiganasummertree​ @anmylica​ @cosette141​ @motherkatereloyshipper​ @zaharadessert​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @jennjenn615​ @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713​ @kymbersmith-90​ @booksteaandtoomuchtv​ @wistfulcynic​ @mie779​ @snowbellewells​ @lfh1226-linda​ @aprilqueen84​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @pirateherokillian​ @elfiola​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @justanother-unluckysoul​ @poptart-cat-78​ @myfearless-love​ @goforlaunchcee​ @searchingwardrobes​ @gingerpolyglot​ @gingerchangeling​ @djlbg​ @cocohook38​ @cs-rylie​ @thisonesatellite​ @donteattheappleshook​ @deckerstarblanche​ @veryverynotgoodwrites​

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Emma Swan was a bastard.

And what was worse, everyone knew she was a bastard, not just Emma herself. Fortunately, everyone at Spencer Hall loved Emma and had since she was a little girl when she arrived on the doorstep one dark and stormy November midnight.

George Spencer, the Earl of Glowerhaven, was in residence and had briefly scanned the correspondence stuffed into the pocket of the too large coat Emma wore. After tossing it in the fireplace, he stood and watched the fire lick at the edges of the missive, then turned to the housekeeper and ordered a room made up for the child near the nursery of the country estate. There she had remained ever since.

She’d been introduced to the staff of Spencer Hall the next day as the Earl’s ward, the orphaned daughter of an old friend. Nevermind that the resemblance she bore to the Earl’s sister and deceased mother was too great to be ignored. But ignored it was, as none of the staff of Spencer Hall wanted to risk their livelihoods by speaking of it.

Emma didn’t remember much of her life before coming to live at Spencer Hall, but she did remember the woman who carried her to the front door of the manor telling her that she was going to live with her father now. The look on the Earl’s face when his eyes met hers told her the truth. A truth that, at the age of five, she was too young to really understand, but had been made clear to her as the years rolled on. He called her Emma, she called him ‘My Lord’, and she only saw him a few times a year when he returned home from London. He asked about her lessons once she was old enough for school and she did her best to make him proud of her. The arrangement pleased everyone.

Until the Earl decided to marry.

Emma was pleased with the news, because along with it came the revelation that the Earl planned to spend more time at Spencer Hall now that he was a family man. Besides that, the new Countess had two daughters, very nearly the same age as Emma herself. She couldn’t help but hope that with him spending more time at Spencer Hall with his new wife and daughters, he’d treat her more like a daughter and they could truly be a family.

The day finally came when the Earl would arrive home with his new wife, and Emma was beside herself. She stood on the other side of the foyer from where all the servants were lined up to meet the new mistress of the house, rather at a loss of what to do with herself.

If she were truly a ward of the Earl, she’d be near the front of the line awaiting to be introduced to the new Countess. As it was, however, the Earl didn’t even notice she was there until she cleared her throat a second time, a little more loudly than the first, after everyone else had been introduced.

“Emma,” the Earl said, surprise lacing his tone. “I didn’t see you there.”

Emma smiled widely and curtsied, thrilled that he wasn’t purposely ignoring her.

“And who is this?” a sickly sweet voice asked. The Earl turned to his new wife and Emma caught her breath. She was beautiful. Chestnut hair with highlights of red framed a narrow face. Dark brown eyes took Emma in from head to toe before narrowing as the Earl introduced her.

“This is my ward, Miss Emma Swan,” he said. The new Countess’ eyes narrowed even more as she speared Emma with a perceptive, assessing look.

“I see,” she said. She took the hands of the two girls on either side of her, and turned back to the Earl. “I’d like to go upstairs now, please. I assume you have rooms ready for Zelena and Regina?”

“Of course, my dear,” the Earl assured her. “Near the nursery, right next to Emma.”

The new Countess sniffed with disdain, as she again looked at Emma. Not wanting to meet that penetrating gaze, Emma looked at the two girls on either side of the new Countess. One was taller than the other, she must be the older one, Emma thought, and was very thin like the Countess. Her hair was a wild mass of red curls that reminded Emma of the setting sun. The girl took her cue from her mother and looked down the bridge of her narrow nose at Emma without saying a word. The other girl wasn’t as thin as the first, and had dark brown, almost black, straight hair, coming down below her shoulders. Her dark eyes held indecision as she looked first at her mother and then back at Emma. Emma offered her a tentative smile, but the girl only looked down at her feet, not meeting Emma’s eyes.

The new Countess swept away up the stairs of the manor, taking her daughters and the Earl with her. Emma did her best to hide the tears that filled her eyes.

~*~*~

The next morning, Emma had been at her lessons for an hour when the new Countess and her daughters entered the nursery. The governess, Johanna, jumped quickly to her feet and curtsied.

The new Countess sniffed with disdain when she spotted Emma, then took in the governess. Emma didn’t smile at the daughters this time. It seemed like it wasn’t a good time to repeat the previous day's gesture.

“Johanna?”

“Yes, My Lady,” she replied, curtsying again and not looking the imperious woman in the face.

“I understand from the Earl that you are to teach my daughters.”

“I will do my best, My Lady.”

“This is Zelena,” she said, motioning the red head forward. “She is twelve.” She then motioned to her other daughter who hadn’t raised her eyes from the floor. “And this is Regina. She is ten.”

“Emma is also ten,” Johanna volunteered. The new Countess seemed put out to be reminded of Emma’s presence and huffed indignantly.

“I’d like you to show my daughters around the house and gardens,” she said.

“Of course. Emma, put down your slate and…”

“Just my daughters,” the Countess interrupted. Johanna’s mouth dropped open in astonishment, but she snapped it shut just as quickly.

“Yes, My Lady,” she murmured.

As soon as the door shut behind Johanna and the girls, the Countess turned to Emma, pure hatred blazing in her eyes.

“I know who you are,” she hissed.

“M-my Lady?”

“You’re his bastard and don’t you deny it.”

Emma didn’t say a word. Of course, she knew it was true, but it was the first time anyone had spoken of it to her face. The Countess grabbed her by the chin and turned her face this way and that. Emma struggled to hold in the whimpers caused by the pain of the woman’s fingernails digging into her face.

“Now you listen to me,” the Countess growled. “You might live here at Spencer Hall and you might take lessons with my daughters, but you are nothing but a bastard and that is all you will ever be. Don’t you ever think that you belong to this family. You are not to speak to my daughters except during lessons. They are the daughters of this house, and they shouldn’t have to be burdened with the likes of you.” The sneer on her face and contempt in her voice was enough to bring tears to Emma’s eyes. “You are not ever to speak to me and you will endeavor to never be in my presence. My husband feels some misguided duty to you, but you are an insult to me and to my daughters. To have you in my house, fed and clothed as if you were one of us.” She looked down her nose at Emma, the venom in her gaze turning Emma’s blood to ice. “Do you have any questions?”

Emma wasn’t fool enough to believe the question was sincere, so she silently shook her head.

“Good.” The Countess spun away from her, her skirts flaring, and walked out the door.

~*~*~

It wasn’t long before Emma became even more aware of her precarious position in the Earl’s household. The servants knew everything and the gossip eventually reached Emma’s ears.

The Countess’ name was Cora and she had demanded the very day she’d arrived at Spencer Hall that Emma be removed. The Earl had refused. He informed his new bride that she didn’t have to love Emma, or even like her for that matter, but that he had an obligation to her that he’d met for the last five years and he wasn’t going to stop now.

Zelena followed her mother’s example to the letter in her dealings with Emma, but Regina had a kind heart that wouldn’t allow her to participate in the level of torture and cruelty that Zelena seemed to relish subjecting Emma to. And while Regina didn’t speak up or stop Zelena in her mistreatment of Emma, when the younger girls were unsupervised, Regina was surprisingly kind to her.

“Your parents not being married isn’t your fault,” she said with a shrug. “And I see no reason to treat you so badly.” Unfortunately, Regina’s fear of her sister and mother kept those sentiments and any actions that might confirm them solely between the two of them.

Life continued in this way for the next five years, when one afternoon during tea, the Earl clutched at his chest and fell over, dead before he hit the ground.

No one was more surprised than Cora, who’d been trying since their wedding night to conceive the all-important heir.

“I might be with child,” she all but screeched at the solicitor. “You can’t give the title to some distant cousin when I might be with child!”

And so the reading of the Earl’s will was delayed until they could be quite certain whether the Countess was with child or not.

A month on, it was verified she was not, to the Countess’ enraged dismay.

When the will was finally read, Cora had been forced to sit next to the new Earl, a rather dissolute young man who was drunk more often than not. The will itself was fairly straight forward. The Earl had established funds for Zelena, Regina, and even Emma, ensuring they all had respectable dowries.

Then the solicitor came to Cora’s name.

To my wife, Cora Spencer, Countess of Spencer Hall, I leave a yearly income of two-thousand pounds…

“That’s all?” Cora cried indignantly.

... unless she agrees to house and care for my ward, Miss Emma Swan, until she reaches the age of twenty, in which case, her yearly income shall be trebled to six-thousand pounds.

“I don’t want her,” the Countess bit out.

“You don’t have to take her,” the solicitor reminded her.

“And live on two-thousand pounds a year? Are you mad?” The solicitor, who lived on much less than two thousand pounds a year, remained silent and tried not to roll his eyes.

“What is your decision?” he asked.

Cora stood with as much dignity as she could muster. “Fine, I’ll take her,” she replied, teeth clenched in anger.

“Shall I find the girl and tell her?”

“I’ll tell her myself.”

But when Cora spoke with Emma, she left out some important details…

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing! Happy birthday, Hollye! Part 1: Ch. 1 will post Wednesday!

#a mistress to no one #birthday fic for hollye #krystal writes #art by krystal #manips by kit

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[artistic-writer]

Do you have a favorite smut writer ? Or like a list of stories that you consider your favorite? Btw you’re one of my favorites :)

Hey nonnie, thank you for your compliment!  It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside <3

I actually do not have a favourite smut writer.  I don’t even have a favourite non-smut writer, because I will read pretty much anything if the plot grabs me.  That’s right - I don’t just read smut!  Shock, I know.  Here is a list of authors and their fics that appear on the first 3 pages of my ao3 history.

@hookedonapirate - Anything by Hannah is a guaranteed lady boner!  And who doesn’t love a fic that starts with Killian drunk in a bath wanking! ;)  Read any of her fics for the fucking and the feels, especially A Helping Hand.  She is my brother in arms with her ‘Oh Daddy’ series of daddy!kink fics and her use of the word ‘cock’ makes me tingle.

@hollyethecurious - I love Hollye.  It’s no secret (deal with it).  She writes the whump so lovely, as well as some deliciously close to the edge M rated stuff - don’t worry, I am trying to push her over to the E side of the fence ;)  The Legend of Captain Killian Jones touches me in all the right places, as does Varlcolac: A Hybrid Tale.

@totheendoftheworldortime - Not for everyone (or for everyone in secret), Michelle writes the most delicious Killian/Emma/Liam smut which has evolved into quite the dramatic story over time!  Give it a go ;)

@unfolded73 - Pile on the dub con with a little smut mixed in, because as long as its in fantasy, it’s okay. right? ;) Try The Nonlinear Property of Time or Good Things to Think About

@shardminds - Ems can write cock with the best of us, but what she does is throw in all these FEELINGS into her eloquent poetry style writing that makes me endlessly jealous.  And she is an out and proud ABO fic writer!  Try I would stop the world for you and fortune favours the brave and tell me I am wrong.

@doodlelolly0910 - My fellow ABO cohort and all out fantastic human being all by herself, Jen deserves you all to go and read her stuff and spam her email inbox with kudos and comments <3  

@kymbersmith-90 - Kym writes a ton of great fics, and I won’t lie, I haven’t had time to read them all, but the ones i HAVE read are fantastic.  Of particular fancy for me is Ethical Conflicts because I love me an age gap :D

@wellhellotragic - I have always believed that Shan and I are cut from the same angst cloth.  Read Nuuk and Ocean Blue and fight me.

@ineffablecolors - Not only is my life better for having met and shared churros with this lovely human being, but before she jumped fandoms, Lyublyana made me FEELS ALL THESE THINGS with her wonderful fic, The Wife. Read it. Now.

@donteattheappleshook - Maddie is a recent addition to my obessive reading schedule and can say she is one of THE ONLY authors to have written a canon divergent fic that I read.  I was promised hurt and she did not disappoint.  Read Stone Hearts and then Of Cars and Bars to make yourself feel better ;)  And if that wasn’t good enough, @teamhook is the BEST WORST enabler and saw Maddie team up with Hollye to write Your Pole or Mine.  Bow chica wow wow.

And last but not least.....

@thisonesatellite - Have you ever just wanted to read a REALLY GOOD dystopian future type fic with your favourite ship? Stephanie has you covered.  We kill the flame is the fic you are looking for.  Or want a REALLY GOOD and infuriatingly addictive noir crime fic? She got you, fam. if you live by the word, you die by the pen will tick all of the boxes you require.

now go!  Read!

#Anonymous #cs fic recs #fic recs

[libidomechanica]

“Three of thy mind fro: a classic frieze, with pyping and the same”

Now gynneth the window sweat. Somebody who should     have sun-vows and haste! Look not wish: but, God who laugh at a windows of West or East; but     for a day, therefore us, knew lose

that flowers in its embrace. And that made anither!     For laik o’ gear, ye’ll faster ty’de. And straight to row; in the evening when hollye eue, hey     ho! No ghosts cald vp without answere,

since when fires fade: exit serve the bring hame on credit:     Like displays with the slipping well, are thoughts to yourself erect best to keep free, the     spoken words you said, what down, than it

purposeth; since their death. Both briars, my joys&desire,     sleek Odalisques, orphans of tears brought I could she past. Glory live full of late:     o God, what are you to quench or poor

me than they in thy amiss, lest guilt, and every     weel aff, not wrong berth. Three of thy mind fro: a classic frieze, with pyping and the same. Need     to sing, the wrought Aurelian, and small;

not thou no roses should it knowing way, anxious     borne thro’ me? A Mirror make, and cheerefull want or perilous graces, which priuie to     my head. Let no delight thus, thus it

is like to it, and go, though nothing e’en woe that     I am curse the Choristers which I had not traveled the stars with the stand yet be     well hath the beauty’s treasons self, who

durst his power to sadder tender to discolored     men deem they came: she oft had not grasp at all their absence my length, the brightness of     the maid’s released love, my loue is not

in thee chambers, and you out them answere, nor yet,     till piper lads were one has flow? Tears speak thy thyrse and Pride, so OVER him, I overhear.     Of those seeme lyke as when the world.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #174 texts #ballad

[winterbaby89]

My Fics - A Masterlist

Dagger by @artistic-writer

Hey all, I am making this masterlist for a few reasons... 

1. To let you all know even though my Tumblr has been less active, I am still around, I’m just dealing with real life issues. 

2. For my new followers to find my works (If they are so inclined). 

3. I am hitting a posting milestone (to me anyway) with this post. Figured I might make it count. :)

So, without further ado... to the list :)

All of my works are up on AO3 FF & Tumblr *The rest below a cut because it got long*

One Shot/Two Shot

A Lesson in Muscle Memory

A smutty deleted scene after everyone is brought back from the alternate storybook to just before the party at Granny’s. (Episode 4 x 22/23) Art by: @elaine-captain-swan Rated M

Friendship, Food, and Fatherhood

A presumed S7 compliant, one-shot of what's happening in Storybrooke for my follower appreciation winner @whimsicallyenchantedrose. Killian has a chat with David about his concerns of impending fatherhood. And some whacky pregnancy cravings to boot. Art by: @hollyethecurious Rated G

I’m Falling For You - 

Part 1 Rated M - Part 2 *Walsh POV* Rated T  Art by: @hollyethecurious

All it takes is one text to make Killian’s world stop... one text from his best friend since college to simultaneously break his heart and breathe new life into him, effectively turning his world on its head.

Killian is Emma’s rock. The one person she knows that will be there for her time and again. When the break up from hell, and residual fallout, puts her best friend, once again, in the role of caregiver and comforter, Emma can no longer deny the feelings that have been brewing within her ever since college.

Can the magic - and questionable mixture of alcohol and pain meds - during the holiday season finally force the confessions they’ve both been suppressing for years?

The Red Dress Affair

Emma and Killian have been dating for a little while and Emma is tired of waiting for Killian to make the next move, so she plans a sultry surprise. Smutty one-shot. Art by: @hollyethecurious Rated M

Multi Chapters

As Destiny Has Its Eyes On You - Complete

Prologue/Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16

This fic is inspired by Destiny has it's eyes on you by the lovely EmilyBea on AO3 & FF ( @seriouslyhooked here on Tumblr). Chapters 1-4 are based on chapters 1&2 of Destiny Has It’s Eyes on You. If you haven’t read her works I highly recommend it, she is a queen of fluff.

Princess Emma Swan of Misthaven has been prophesied as the Savior since before her birth. Now with the help of a Lieutenant from her past she is going to take her destiny into her own hands, to defeat the Evil Queen. Art by: @artistic-writer & @hollyethecurious Rated M

Dark Hook Comes to Storybrooke - Complete

Prologue, Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18, Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Epilogue

This is a fic that I Co-wrote with the lovely @hollyethecurious it is our joint custody baby, so if you enjoy this fic show her some love too.

Moments before the Evil Queen’s Dark Curse whisks our beloved fairytale characters to Storybrooke, Captain Hook finally gets his revenge on the Crocodile. Twenty-eight years later, Killian Jones awakes in Storybrooke expecting just another ordinary day, that is until a number of abnormal occurrences disrupts his otherwise scheduled life. The greatest of which is a new face in town. A young woman by the name of Emma. Emma. What a lovely name… Art by: @xhookswenchx & @flipperbrain Rated M

DHCtS Excerpts - WIP

A collection of additional/missing scenes from the DHCtS verse. Relationships and ratings will vary by chapter. 

Killian Jones Meets the Mayor's Son - Complete

Based on the prompt: I would really love to read Killian and Henry's first meeting in Dark Hook Comes to Storybrooke. Art by: @hollyethecurious Rated G

The Fate of the Medjai - WIP

Prologue, Ch 1, Ch 2

Librarian Emma Nolan joins forces with Ex-Military man Killian Jones on the adventure of their lifetime as they venture out into the deserts of Egypt in search of ancient secrets. They encounter an unforeseen evil determined to resurrect his lost love and rule his new world. Based on the 1999 Brendan Fraser movie The Mummy. Art by: @abeylin1982 Rated M

Prompts

Movies and Overnights - Complete

This ficlet was spawned by the anonymous prompt: I was talking to the security guard at the hospital during my shift today about his favorite movies and he said “anything with water”. Naturally, my next question was “pirates?” And he grinned at me and said “oh yes” then started off in a British accent to say Pirates of the Caribbean. Any chance I could get you to CS this? Art by: @hollyethecurious Rated G

If you have a prompt you would like to see, feel free to send me an ask (anon or not). Let me know if you would like to be tagged (or removed from my tag list).

Tagging those that have requested tags in the past:

@abeylin1982 @aprilqueen84 @artistic-writer @badwolfreturns @best-left-hook-jones @branlovestowrite @captain-k-jones @captain-swan-coffee @cocohook38 @deathbycaptainswan @downeystarkjr @eala-captian @flipperbrain @florenzu @freakassbuthunter @gingerchangeling @goldengirlschildhood @golfgirld @greenleaf777 @hollyethecurious @hooked205 @ilovemesomekillianjones @in-spirational @jennjenn615 @joneskillian @jsilva0117 @juliakaze @kday426 @killian-whump @kmomof4 @kymbersmith-90 @laschatzi @leiaswanjoneskid @lifeismadeup-ofmoments @like-waves-on-the-beach @linda8084 @mariakov81 @natascha-ronin @onceuponaprincessworld @resident-of-storybrooke @rookiehookie @seriouslyhooked @sherlockwhovian @shireness-says @smutqueen27 @snidgetintheapple @snidgetsafan @superchocovian @supergirl42universe @teamhook @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @ultraluckycatnd @whimsicallyenchantedrose @wordsmith-storyweaver @xhookswenchx @yayimallamaagain

#Captain Swan #cs ff #cs au #cs canon compliant ff #cs canon divergent ff #winterbaby89writes #words by hollye #my cs ff compendium #cs ff masterlist #this is my 32K post #if you were curious

[allons-y-to-hogwarts-713]

The Craving in Between - fic by @hollyethecurious a Captain Swan vampire/college AU for @cssns 2020

Summary: Emma shivered at the biting wind whipping through the street as she crossed from one alley to next, the tight, thin dress beneath her jacket doing little to help keep her warm. She’d chosen it earlier that night hoping to impress a certain teaching assistant from one of the classes she and Neal shared. Killian Jones. A doctoral candidate several years her senior, and super hot to boot, Emma couldn’t deny she’d initially started flirting with him just to get under Neal’s skin, but as the semester went on and her overtures were met with equally witty and flirtatious banter, Emma had to admit there was something about Killian Jones that drew her to him.

Emma rolled her eyes, and not some mystical, mumbo jumbo, supernatural bullshit. Another scoff left her lungs, hanging before her in a mist of cold sarcasm as she recalled her ex’s words warning that Jones wasn’t human. Shaking her head, Emma thought to herself, Well, what the hell is he then, Neal? 

Emma was about to find out.

Rated M / ~17,500 words / Read the story on: tumblr, AO3, FFN

asdfghjkl this fic is AMAZING! Inspired by a scene from The Vampire Diaries books and borrowing lore from TVD (but NOT a TVD AU), Hollye wrote a beautiful and suspenseful (and hot) CS vampire story. I’ve read and loved Hollye’s writing for a while now, and I was so excited to get to work with her for this event. (I’m also a fan of TVD and recently started rewatching the tv series, so this was perfect.) With a college setting, anyone with a thing for professor TA!Killian will get that added bonus (they are in TA/student roles when their attraction to each other starts, but the TA/student dynamic itself is not a reason for their attraction).

Big thank you and lots of love to the mods of @cssns for running this spectacular event again! I’ve had so much fun participating the past few years, making new friends, and seeing/reading everyone’s supernatural creations.

Go give Hollye and her fic some love!

#cssns2020 #cssns #captain swan #cs art #cs ff #captain swan supernatural summer #cssns 2020 #hollyethecurious #cs fic rec #cs au #vampire au #vampire!killian #cs vampire au #cs aesthetics #cs smut #cs aesthetic #aesthetics #kayla's cs aesthetics #kayla's aesthetics #the craving in between #yes guys i arted for and am reccing a smutty fic #if you're reading these tags and are of the audience for smut fics (particularly cs).. see my sideblog i finally caved to making for more #the url is: caught-in-the-filter (as both a 'things i filter from my main blog' and a coffee pun because it's my cs 'coffee' filter) #blame the discord for me losing my filter and making a blog for that. lol