Chapter 10

Emma couldn't look at the captain without blushing. When she closed her eyes, she could still feel the scratching of his beard against the delicate skin on her thighs. As much as possible, she avoided him in the sight of the crew. It wasn't easy aboard the ship, where everyone was always stepping on top of one another, but she did her best. She couldn't hide out in her cabin, either. Her hands were needed on deck as they prepared to cast off.

Her hands. They were beginning to roughen. Now they were starting to look like a boy's – like a sailor's. They moved deftly now as she tied this line and loosened that one. She was learning the workings of the ship at a swift pace. She focused on her work instead of the captain as he passed behind her, barking out orders.

The crew scrambled to complete his instructions as quickly and expertly as they could. These dangerous and unruly men operated in fear of him, and the thought made Emma smirk to herself. Last night, she'd seen a tender and gentle side of the captain. She'd seen him kill, but could no longer imagine him ever bringing harm to her.

"Swan," he snapped. "Get that knot tighter before I'll have you whipped."

She spun, her jaw open in astonishment. He winked at her. Glancing around to make sure that no one else had seen the gesture, Emma smiled and returned to her work.

----------

That evening, she had barely gotten the door closed and the tray set down on his table before he had her in his arms. Her hat tumbled to the floor as his hand laced into her hair. He claimed her mouth with his as he backed her up against the wall, pinning her in place. She could feel the heat rising off his chest.

"They'll hear us." She gasped the words out in spite of herself.

Killian stopped, then nodded, pressing his forehead to hers. The tips of their noses brushed together. "I've been wanting to kiss you all day, Emma."

"That's not what I heard," she teased, wrapping the hair at his nape around her finger. "I heard you wanted to have me whipped."

"All for show, love." He promised. "Can't have anyone thinking I might have gone soft, especially not over some cabin boy."

"Little do they know." She cocked an eyebrow at him and watched his face split into a devilish grin.

----------

Once the shore had vanished over the horizon, the wind failed. Days passed with nary a gust, and the Jolly Roger sat idle. Emma and Killian stole moments when they could, but more often than not, they were Emerson and Captain Hook. With so little work to be done while the ship wasn't moving, the captain had started teaching her some of his own swordsmanship skills.

He was much faster than the other men she had sparred with. The way his feet moved across the deck made the fight look like a dance. Emma tried to keep up, but no matter how she lunged, it seemed that the point of his practice sword always ended up beneath her throat.

"Focus on your feet," he told her, tapping her ankle with the fake blade.

"How am I supposed to do that when I'm worrying about getting stabbed?" She kept her voice low, not wanting anyone to overhear her backtalk.

"I'm not going to stab you with a wooden sword, Swan." His eyebrows raised. "Learn the footwork now, and it will be instinct by the time you're fighting with actual metal."

"When will that be?" She asked anxiously.

"When you're ready, and not a moment before." He lowered the sword to his side. "Watch." He walked through the paces again, slower this time. Emma tried to mimic what he had done, but stumbled. Once more, he showed her. This time she moved along with him, mirroring his motions. He swung his sword down on her without warning, but she sidestepped, still repeating the steps. He thrust, and she dodged again. It was obvious that he was holding back, but Emma didn't care. She was learning. She was improving.

The clack of wood on wood sounded out once, twice, then three times as she parried his slowed strikes. "Keep your feet moving," he reminded her. She missed a step and the flat of his sword tapped her arm, but then she found the rhythm. Step. Parry. Step, step, block. She jabbed quickly, and caught him in the side. The look he gave her in return was playfully menacing, and he settled into his stance, ready to strike again.

His attacks came faster, but he kept to their dance. She knew that at any moment he could surprise her, outpace her, or overcome her with strength, but he didn't. Every time she thought she could no longer keep up, his next blow would come just a half a beat slower. She tried to swipe at him, but his sword caught hers and forced its tip down to the deck, their hilts knocking together. She could feel his breath on her face as their eyes met, before the wind ruffled through the tips of her hair at her neck.

The wind!

"Captain, Captain!" Shouts sounded out from all over the ship. "The wind is up!"

Killian's eyes flickered over Emma's face briefly before the captain stepped back, handing her his fake sword's hilt. "Aye, men." He roared. "Let's get those sails at the ready!"

----------

It was another two days before they came across one of King George's ships. They still had not passed the boundaries of Regina's kingdom, so Emma might have tried to convince the captain that this one ship wasn't worth taking, but she never got the chance. Hook put the Jolly Roger in pursuit the second he laid eyes on the other vessel.

Emma was sent down to the gun deck again at the captain's insistence. She wasn't good enough with a sword yet, but she had done well with the cannons last time they'd gone to battle. It was true. Everything had operated like a well-oiled machine. She worked aside Murray again. She would be the one to swab the barrel, pack it with powder and shot, then Murray would run it out and fire. Last time, she'd been swept up in the excitement and intensity of the moment. This time, she tasted the tang of fear in the back of her throat.

She had seen Killian jump aboard the Blushing Maiden with a complete disregard for his own safety. His aptitude with a blade had earned him the right to his confidence, but anything could happen. She knew she could only voice such concern for him in private. Captain Hook needed to be infallible in the eyes of his men. He couldn't have a lowly cabin boy showing such worried affection for him.

Telling herself he would have a better chance at surviving if she did her job right, Emma got to work. She almost mixed up the powder and the shot the first time she loaded up, but she caught herself. They were ready in time for the captain's furious command. The cannon thundered and slammed backward.

It hadn't finished moving when she began to ram the wet swab into it again, extinguishing any remaining embers that would set the next round off prematurely. She was ahead of the order when Murray yelled for powder, then again with the shot. Again, the captain hollered the signal from above.

Murray fired, and when the sounds of the explosion faded, Emma heard his screams. The cannon had rolled over his foot, crushing it into a pulp. Once he was freed, Emma carried him away from the guns' paths. She considered trying to work the gun by herself, but knew she could neither roll nor aim it. She had gotten stronger, but not that strong.

She crawled back to the opening at the end of the barrel and looked out.