a few planks of wood...
I got inspired to write a little bit of Killian pondering his true home after the return of the Jolly. Happy Once Day!
His ship changing hands a decision made, a necessity, a
trading of his home so she could find her way back to hers. His love for her,
overwhelming and seemingly unrequited, was strong enough for him to make that
choice, the bean in his palm now a beacon of the next chapter of his long life.
Knowing that he was adaptable, he hoped to find home wherever she was, however
long it took for her to let him in. And gradually, she did, and he felt
grounded in a way that he had never felt before. Being grounded for a sailor
should be the opposite of what he would desire, but, alas, he couldn’t deny
that he was content, happy even, a feeling he thought was lost to him forever.
And then the Jolly was back. Roaming her deck and his cabin
again made him feel buoyant, giddy almost, like the youth he was when he first
stepped foot on her those many years ago. But
something was off. That first night back home in his cabin he laid wide awake for hours, unable to find
comfort in the gentle rocking, the creaking of the enchanted wood loud in his
ears instead of soothing. He chalked it up to his fear for Emma, the
conversation with the sea witch weighing heavily on his mind, the need to see
her, hold her itching underneath his skin like a wildfire. He can’t remember
succumbing to sleep; only recalling the nightmares that plagued him, of black
waters ripping Emma from his arms, hearing her cries as she disappeared into
the darkness. He woke before dawn, tangled in his covers that now felt scratchy
to the touch, his pillow soaked in sweat, panic running through his veins.