pages upon pages (these are the words of my soul)

Author's Note: So last weekend masqueofanarchy made a comment about The Decemberists and Captain Swan, and now I have been listening to 'The Engine Driver' on repeat because of feels. I apologize for nothing.

They return to the Enchanted Forest at the tail-end of winter. Hook has not experienced winter in some time, unless the weather in Storybrooke counts as such (he no longer remembers seasons like he used to, not after spending three centuries in the humid hellhole that is Neverland). It is soon that he realizes the coldness he feels is the weather, and not the pain of losing Emma.

Everyone who has been transported with him immediately attempt some form of normalcy: the townspeople return to their houses, the dwarves follow Snow White to clear the rubble of the palace, the fairies return to wherever it is that fairies go. Regina disappears almost immediately which makes sense to Hook because regardless of whatever good intentions she has, the people here are still out for her blood.

Hook does not know where to go. His ship did not get brought back to this land, his crew is long dead, and his heart is heavy with thoughts of Emma. It has been less than a week since their kiss in Neverland and every single fiber of his being remembers it as if it was yesterday, which makes his sorrow even greater.

"Where will you go?" Prince Charming asks him, and Hook does not have a ready answer.

"Stay," Charming tells him. "You can stay and help us rebuild the kingdom."

Emma would have wanted that lingers as a response between the two of them.

Hook nods. He will stay.

…

It is painful to watch her parents – both so similar and so different from the woman he loves that every day is a reminder of losing what was never really his but could have been, maybe, if fate had given him more time (the memory of their kiss is like a drug, making his limbs heavy with want and regret and sorrow and has it fades with time he finds himself constantly grasping at in in hopes that it will make him feel whole again).

Hook spends his time idly for the first time in years, without the thought of duty or revenge to keep him occupied. At first he helps with the dwarves, clearing rubble, but as the spring rains force them indoors he offers other skills.

"I have a steady hand," he tells the prince. "I could assist in drafting plans for the castle."

This intrigues the dwarves as the princely couple as well, and so for the first time in years, Hook draws.

He always liked drawing, both plans and figures, and had used it as a way to pass the time when he was a young sailor who did not drink. Years on a ship have given him the ability to keep his hand steady and his lines straight, and his grasp of proportions strong enough that the plans for the castle come quickly. He suggests tall towers with gold roofs, steady and strong, and green ivy to be grown along the base.

"It looks beautiful," Snow tells him, and he smiles. It is the first time someone's been pleased with anything he's done since Emma.

She is always there, at the edge of his vision and in the back of his mind, and he makes good on his promise with every passing day.

…

There is one day when Hook finds himself drawn to the library. He pages through tomes idly, not sure of what he is looking for, until he finds the book.

Or, rather, Henry's book – full of stories of all those Emma held dear, and what prompted the lad on his quest to find her.

Hook spends hours reading the chapters, with the beautiful watercolors and fanciful descriptions of bravery and courage and love.

It is late when he finishes. He closes the book, and sets it on a table, more surprised that the servants have come in and lit the evening fires to ward off the damp than he is about time lost. As he heads to his quarters, he can't help but think of Emma, and how she would fit into the tale. She would be the brave heroine fighting for love of her family, and the thought brings a smile to his lips.

It is that night that he starts to write.

He tells of their first encounter in the camp, of the beanstalk. He takes great pain so that it is her story, not his, because it continues well beyond any interaction that they have had. He tells of her swordsmanship and her bravery, he writes of her love of her son, and for everything that he does not know, he asks.

He asks her father about her time in Storybrooke, for Snow will not talk of Emma except with tears in her eyes. He asks the dwarves and the fairies. He even asks Neal one night over a tankard of ale at the local tavern. Even though the other man is angry at first, the drink loosens his tongue and soon Hook learns about Emma as a young lass, and why her sorrow is so deep and her trust so hard to win (he is especially proud of himself for not taking a swing at Neal, despite his fierce desire to do so).

Once day, Snow arrives at his door.

"I've heard you've been asking about Emma," she asks warily. "I want to know why."

Hook does not tell the princess that he loves her daughter, or that his first thoughts upon waking are of Emma, because the part of him that is an honorable man knows she would find that indecent (he is neither the father of Emma's child nor her paramour, and so he hides his love like a scar on his heart). Instead, he shows her the book.

"To remember her and her lad," he tells Snow.

The princess is silent for some time, hands pressed against her lips, and Hook is worried that he has offended her by his imprudent actions.

"I am sorry –"

"No, no – never be sorry for this." Snow looks at him with earnest eyes. "Never be sorry for loving her as much as you do, and for giving us a chance to remember her." She wipes her eyes and then adds, "Come to my chambers every Wednesday at noon, and I will tell you all that you want to know about my time with Emma."

The permission of the princess lifts is spirits, and when he visits he brings the pages he has already written. They spend hours reading and reminiscing, and are often joined by Charming, who adds to what Hook has already done.

He writes about Henry her brave son, whom everyone is slightly more eager to talk about because they have more stories. When Regina returns to the palace with Robin Hood and his Merry Men to warn about a threat, she does not mind telling him as well once he shows her the pages of the book he is writing.

"He would have loved to be in there," the queen says with tears in her eyes.

He writes, and rewrites, until finally he believes it ready to share but when he is about to take it to the princess, he realizes that it lacks all of the decoration of the original book.

And so he draws.

He sketches Emma's face from memory, paying careful attention to the curve of her lips and the tilt of her nose. He draws her hair, remembering the feel of her golden strands in his hand. He paints her in brilliant colors, green and cold and red, and with every movement of his brush he falls more and more in love with her.

He is surprised at how little pain this endeavor gives him, but perhaps that is because he is given purpose in his quest to honor and remember her. Hook knows he will not see her again, will never be able to woo her or win her heart. He knows that she has forgotten him as anything other than a villain in a children's tale (their brief time together mattered more to him than it did to her anyway) but here, in the silence of his quarters, he erects his own monument to her not to free himself from the shadow of her memory but rather to remind himself why she is worth remembering in the first place.

He does not get to present the finished product to her parents, however, for it seems that there is need of him. With the growing threat to the Enchanted Forest, he must go to Emma's realm and retrieve her and Henry.

He does so willingly, and just before he leaves his gives the book to Snow.

"I will bring her to you safely, so that this is not all you have to remember her by," Hook promises.

And when he succeeds, he is happier than he can ever remember being. It does not matter to him how long it took or if Emma is unsure of herself around him. He knows that memory spells are tricky and even beyond that, he is not worried if his love is unreciprocated because he has reunited her with his family and that is enough.

…

Once the witch if vanquished, Emma and Henry adjust to life in the Enchanted Forest. It is spring again, and Hook has taken to spending time with the dwarves as they build the towers, each higher than that last. He throws himself into this work because Emma's return has made him into a desperate man.

With every passing day she lingers by him, giving him leave to flirt and tease and talk and to gain her trust, but with each passing day he knows that he will never win her heart. She does not seem interested in more than just a harmless flirtation (for her at least) and even if every moment is charged with the tension that exists between them, there is nothing more. If it is for the sake of the boy, or the upcoming arrival of her new brother or sister, or something else, Hook does not know, but it makes him weary and sends him not into the arms of drink, but into building plans for the castle.

It is on one of the spring afternoons when the rain pours down and the castle is damp and dreary that he is surprised to hear a knock on his door. He has been working on revised plans for the battlements in his shirtsleeves, and expects it to be one of the dwarves asking for help. He is surprised to find Emma outside of his chambers.

She is holding Henry's book of fairy tales.

"Henry found this in the library today, and imagine his surprise to find new stories. About him. And me." Her eyes are wide and so Hook steps forward, wanting so much to touch her and ease her pain.

"And what did your lad think of the stories of such bravery?" Hook asks, cautiously.

"He thought they were amazing." Emma's voice is barely a whisper, full of emotion and pain and something else that causes tears to gather and his heart to swell with some unidentifiable feeling. "So did I. And I asked my parents and – "

Emma takes a deep, shaky breath, book tightly against her chest. "They told me you did that. And the illustrations."

Hook nods, rubs his mouth with his thumb. "I did. Does that – "

"No –" Emma cuts him off, shaking her head. "It doesn't surprise me at all. I just…" She swallows. "Why?"

"Because you were lost to us," Hook replies, "and I did not want to forget you. I made a promise, after all." He takes a deep breath, realizing his next words will send him into the abyss from which there is no return. "And because I love you."

Emma lets out a sob, shoulders heaving upwards, and one of her hands coming to cover her mouth. Frightened, because Emma Swan does not cry (she rants and screams and fusses but this is something else entirely new for her) Hook steps forward to hold her. He pulls her close, one hand in her hair, and when she sinks easily into his embrace he can breathe again.

"I'm sorry," he tells her, "I shouldn't have said that, I – "

"No, no, no – please don't – " Emma says into the crook of his neck, "I'm sorry."

Hook chuckles. "Whatever for?"

Emma's words are warm against his skin, sending shivers down his spine. "I've never been loved by anyone as much as I'm loved by you, and it scares me sometimes to think that I feel the same."

Hook takes a deep, eager breath. "Then let's be scared together," he tells her, pressing a kiss against her hair. "I'd like that, if you would."

Emma laughs. She places a warm palm on his chest, and even though the book digs into his ribs, Hook does not care. "Sounds like a plan, then," she tells him, and Hook smiles.

It sounds like a very good plan.