Hi alex! I dont know if you take prompts and if you dont thats ok. If you do can you write a scene in your bth verse where emma tells killian about her ability to spot lies please? Thank you and dont worry if you dont have time to write it i understand.

alexandralyman:

So, this is one of those things where it’s clear that at some point in Beyond the Horizon, Killian finds out about Emma’s superpower, but I never wrote the actual scene where she tells him. Then I got carried away and wrote 4,000 words once I started thinking about how it would have come out. Unlike the other BtH extras, this isn’t a single scene, this is some missing bits and pieces that take place over several chapters of the main fic.

Also on ff.net here as part of my Interlude at Sea series.

(and yes, there’s smut)

                                                   …..

Something was nagging at him.

It was a faint but insistent tug at the back of his mind, a lurking shadow in the corner of his eye.

“Women on ships are bad luck.”

Killian Jones was superstitious – all sailors were, to some extent. He wore charms around his neck to guard against the cold grasp of Davy Jones (no relation) and never dared to challenge the wind by absent-mindedly whistling on deck. He steered well clear of the flocks of albatrosses soaring about overhead in search of dinner and avoided the sleek schools of mermaids below – treacherous, untrustworthy creatures they were, but he’d never held much stock in the old belief that a woman aboard a ship was bad luck. He certainly didn’t think that his golden-haired treasure had brought him any ill since he’d stolen her away for his own, the single storm (that they’d forded with no casualties and no cost save a lost day or two on repairs) aside, he’d had nothing but astonishingly good luck with Princess Emma by his side.

In his arms.

In his bed.

But still, there was something about her that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Some mysterious quality about her that had nothing to do with her more obvious, feminine charms, like the tilt of her lips that practically begged for his kisses or the curve of her waist that seemed to have been made for his hands to circle and pull her close, lovely and dreadfully distracting whenever he tried and failed to get to the bottom of exactly what was bothering him.

So he watched,

And waited.

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