Petrichor (1/1)

caprelloidea:

Summary: Takes place between 3×06 and 3×07.  Emma and Hook venture back to the Jolly Roger for additional supplies.  Tension inevitably follows in their wake.

Rated: M

Warnings: Smut, language

Words: ~6.5k

Notes: For @killians-dimples.  Because socks, and because Neverland.

Also on ff and ao3


If Killian’s honest with
himself, there’s something about the forest.

He’s always been a man of the sea, despite the harsh masters
he’s served upon its waters.  The ocean
is capricious, swallowing when it sees fit, holding dark secrets at unreachable
depths.  It sways and it churns and it
takes, often far more than it gives.
He’s seen more sailors than he cares to, lost beneath the surface –
after death, often before it.

Emma –

“Swan,” he mouths, to himself, jungle leaves draping over
his shoulder, first signs of rain tickling at his nose.

– somehow manages to be of both.  She steps easy among the trees, seems to have
an innate feel for direction, for the way the soil shifts, for the creatures
that slither among the shadows.  He’s
spent enough decades in Neverland to listen when the island speaks, when the
trees rustle in an ancient language.  And
ever since they’d made landfall, it’s spoken of nothing but her.

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