Come Back to Me: a grintson au!fic [part 6 1/2]
Title: Come Back to Me
Word Count: 5562
Pairing: Rupert/Emma
A/N: The final chapter! I honestly can't believe I'm actually finishing this first attempt at a multi-chapter fic, and I have all you guys to thank for it! You've all been so sweet and supportive, and I can't even say in any words that I haven't said before how much all of your enthusiasm has meant to me! I really really love you all! Here's to the summer and many more fics!
EDIT: Sorry, it's divided into two parts now bc LJ just can't handle the word count. booooooooo.
1864
Rupert knew he had explicitly told her not to come and see him off, going so far as to not even tell her which port he was leaving from, and yet there was still a small flicker of hope in him that dared to eagerly anticipate her arrival, desperate to see her among the crowd anyways.
It was a stupid wish, seeing as how she was probably still furious with him and probably never wanted to see him again. Still, he couldn’t help thinking seeing her face just one more time would make this task more bearable. Just one last kiss while he was still here…
He made his way slowly back up the boarding plank, letting the crush of bodies carry him forward, his very limbs reluctant to move him that much farther from Emma. Just as he finally relinquished any expectations of seeing her, already mentally planning on going straight to his cabin on board to get so raging drunk he might hopefully pass out for the whole voyage, the sound of his name made him snap his head around.
“Rupert! Rupert!”
He saw her then, jostled in the crowd, eager to make it on board. He pushed his way through the crowd, ignoring the angry protests of the people he shoved aside.
When he finally reached her, he immediately pulled her into a tight embrace, pressing a hard kiss to her lips without preamble. He didn’t know how long they stood there, only that he was struck with a yearning so fierce he hoped the moment would never end.
When she finally broke away, she leaned her forehead against his, breathing deeply, seemingly not in any rush to say anything.
He cradled her face between his hands, tilting her head back so he could look into her eyes.
“You came? But how?" he finally asked, every hope he’d had that morning coming true.
“You couldn’t keep me away if you’d tried,” she replied with a smile. “Well, tried harder,” she amended. He grinned and opened his mouth to say something when a loud whistle pierced through the noisy dock, signaling that it was almost time to leave.
“God, Em. I wish I didn’t have to leave. I-”
“Rupes-”
“No, let me get this out,” he insisted firmly, cutting off her interruption. “I love you, Emma.” Her eyes widened at his sudden declaration, never before having heard those words from him.
Seeing the surprise on her face made him want to kick himself. He should have told her sooner than this, and often. He’d always known how he felt about her- thought that with every moment he’d spent with her, every kiss he’d given her made it obvious enough, but he realized now that he also should have spoken it plainly so there would be no doubt in her mind.
He suddenly wanted to make up for all the days he could have told her, repeat the words over and over until the full measure of his love sunk into her very bones, warming her during his absence.
But now it was too late.
“I love you,” he repeated for good measure, and continued on determinedly. “So much, that I’m leaving everything I know behind just for the possibility of becoming someone worthy of you. I promise I’ll do whatever it takes, and I’ll come back. I swear, I’ll come back to you.”
1865
Emma quickened her pace as she rushed up the path to the familiar white gate. She was running a bit late for her morning breakfast with Rupert, a routine they had fallen into after he had recovered from his fever, and she mused over the fact that only just a short week ago she had been dragging her heels where she now practically raced at the prospect of seeing him.
Things had finally changed for the better between them ever since their midnight conversation, and for once in a long time, Emma felt as if everything was going to be all right. Maybe not exactly how she had envisioned, but she’d come to realize rarely anything in her life ever followed according to plan.
The gate was uncharacteristically shut at this time, so she walked over to the sentry at the gatehouse.
“Hello?” she called out hesitantly as she approached the young man. “I was just wondering if I could get through?” The guard looked up moodily and was about to reply when he saw who was addressing him. Seeing the pretty face before him, he jerked smartly to attention, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck self-consciously.
“Oh, right! Yes, of course! Miss--?”
“Watson,” she answered quickly, hoping to streamline this whole process and get in faster. “I’m here to see Corporal Grint.” The guard’s face fell an imperceptible amount.
“Your father?” he asked, trying to feign casualness as he leaned up against the wall of the gatehouse. Emma laughed at the ridiculousness of the question, seeing as how she had just told him her last name, and it clearly wasn’t Grint. Well, not yet anyways, a small voice in the back of her mind prodded.
Shoving that whole train of thought out of her mind, she refocused on the soldier in front of her.
“No, he’s my--”
“Brother? Cousin? A friend of the family, perhaps?” he asked hopefully. Finally understanding what was going on, Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing at his poor attempts at flirting with her. The very idea of this type of exchange with someone other than Rupert was such a foreign concept to her that it took all her self-control from laughing outright at his efforts. Knowing that would only come across as unkind, she bit back the chuckles that threatened to erupt and cleared her throat.
“My fiancé,” she stated firmly, giving him a meaningful look. He let out a defeated sigh and signalled the other sentry on the opposite side to unlock the gate, moving to pull them open for her.
“Can’t fault a man for tryin’, right?” he asked resignedly as she walked by. “If it were me, though, I’d run and have the chaplain marry us before another fella had a chance to come along and change your mind!” She flashed him an exasperated grin and rolled her eyes, thinking that with Rupert, there was no-- and would never be-- ‘another fella’ that could ever change her mind about who she wanted.
The ease with which she had insisted that he was her fiancé, though, made her mind pause for a minute. Of all the things she and Rupert had talked about since their unspoken agreement to try and find their way back to being together, their engagement had been the one thing she hadn’t brought up.
It used to be that being with Rupert had been easier than breathing- an extension of her very being that was so natural, she’d never thought about what it might be like if they hadn’t known each other since they were children. Their shared history used to make everything so effortless, but now that she was in a sense starting all over with him, she hadn’t quite figured out how to tell him exactly what she wanted without shocking or frightening him off. Rushing or pressuring him into something was her worst fear, but at the same time she had never been one to thrive on uncertainty. Was there something so wrong with wanting to know exactly where they stood with each other?
She was so distracted with her thoughts that she didn’t immediately realize what was happening when someone suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her into a darkened closet. Her first reaction was to scream out in alarm, but when her eyes adjusted to the dim light and she saw who it was, she relaxed and fixed her sternest glare on the redhead before her.
“What are you doing?” she demanded hotly, all too aware of the sensations his extremely close proximity was causing throughout her body. “You scared me half to death!”
Rupert gave her a small, unapologetic smile.
“You were late,” he said simply, as if that explained his actions. She raised one of her eyebrows skeptically.
“So you waited to ambush me?” His smile grew wider at her phrasing.
“Can you blame me?” he asked, his voice softening as he brushed back an errant lock of hair that had escaped from her chignon, letting his fingers linger against her cheek. Emma bit down on her lower lip, struggling to breathe normally when he let his arm rest on the shelf behind her back, trapping her even closer to him.
“Th- there was a mishap with the chickens at the boarding house this morning,” she said after a heated moment of silence, steering their conversation back onto a safer, more mundane topic. “That’s why I’m late.”
His eyes flickered back up to her face, a slight shadow passing over his features.
“Not because of that guard at the gate you were laughing with?”
Emma blinked in confusion. He’d been watching her? Oh god, had he heard her calling him her fiancé? She felt like she could die of embarrassment right there.
“You heard that?” she asked timidly, unsure of his reaction to her labelling him thus. He frowned, leaning away from her in the small space.
“Yeah,” he answered warily, the crease between his eyes furrowing. She clasped her hands in front of her nervously, wringing her fingers tightly.
“I’m sorry,” she began contritely, hoping her slip of the tongue wouldn’t set the progress they had been making together backwards. She wanted to reassure him that she wasn’t rushing him; that she didn’t expect anything from him, but deep down, she knew that she really did at some point.
“I just don’t understand,” he began grimly, his suggestive demeanor of just a minute ago replaced with one of frustration. “How am I supposed to figure out what this--” he gestured to the space between them, “--is when you’re off...”
Emma attempted to cut him off, not wanting to give him a chance to voice his doubts lest they become more real to him once said out loud, but they ended up speaking at the same time, filling the small closet with clashing sentences.
“I promise I won’t say it again.”
“...flirting with other people?”
They both paused at the other’s words, matching puzzled looks coming over both their faces.
“Wait, what?” she finally asked him indignantly, too busy being offended at his assumption to even take the tiniest bit of pleasure in his obvious display of jealousy. “What are you talking about? I wasn’t flirting with him! He was trying to flirt with me!”
“Oh,” Rupert said somewhat guiltily as he dropped his defensive posture and relaxed somewhat. The questioning look reappeared on his face, though, when he asked, “Well, what were you talking about, then?”
“I thought you were upset at how I told him you were my fiancé,” she answered automatically, the possibility that she maybe didn’t want to divulge that little tidbit not occurring to her at the moment.
Eventually realizing what she’d just admitted, she immediately wished she could take it back. The complete shock on his face made her mentally slap herself for not just making something up. Something far less revealing than the truth. She lamented the fact that she’d never been a very good liar.
Rupert’s eyes lowered slowly as he took a step towards her.
“You told him that I was your fiancé?” he asked, his neutral tone not at all hinting at his feelings on the matter.
Emma hesitated before answering him, trying to gauge his reaction. Was he upset with her? He didn’t look particularly angry, but then why did she feel a prickle of something akin to panic run down her spine? As if she were being hunted somehow?
His face was now only centimeters from her own, and she could see his eyes practically glitter in the weak light.
Yes, hunted was the right word.
“Well, I was running late,” she tried to explain, “and he was... I didn’t want to give him the impression that... because I’m already...” she knew she was rambling now, and let out an annoyed breath. Really, this was not exactly how she wanted to tell him that she still imagined them getting married sometime in their future, but if he was going to take issue with it, she might as well get it out now. She stiffened her spine and narrowed her gaze up at him.
“So what if I did?”
She awaited the inevitable argument; the protests and half-hearted excuses on why he didn’t feel the same.
And was floored when his lips abruptly crashed against hers instead.
Her eyes flew open in surprise, but after a moment, just as they were fluttering shut, he pulled away.
“Is that what you want?” he asked, and Emma could hear the hopeful uncertainty in his voice. A frown made its way across her face as she answered.
“Of course,” she said emphatically. “I never stopped wanting that. Honestly, Rupert, sometimes you can be so--”
He seemed not to hear the second part of her sentence as he took her face between his hands and leaned down swiftly to kiss her again. Thoroughly silenced for the moment, Emma immediately gave herself over to the sensation of his mouth gliding over hers. It was a strange combination of sweet familiarity and unknown urgency; the feel of his lips the same as ever, whereas the insistent heat that burned beneath her skin was a wholly unpredicted reaction she was only too eager to explore further.
His hands roamed all over her with reckless impulse, determined to memorize every inch as he traced the outline of her shoulders and ran down the length of her arms. She leaned more heavily into his touch and he felt a wild, desperate need to be alone with her-- in someplace that was not a closet.
As if she’d read his mind, she abruptly pulled back and asked him in an uneven whisper if he would come out with her that afternoon.
“Where?” he said hoarsely, dragging his mouth along the line of her jaw, physically unable to stop touching her.
“There’s someplace I want to show you,” she replied cryptically, and he could practically hear the smile in her voice. He let her take his hand then and lead them out of the cramped closet, a pleasant warmth settling into his chest at the simple feel of her hand in his.
At that moment he was sure he didn’t care where they ended up-- only that she’d be with him.
(CONTINUED...)
Word Count: 5562
Pairing: Rupert/Emma
A/N: The final chapter! I honestly can't believe I'm actually finishing this first attempt at a multi-chapter fic, and I have all you guys to thank for it! You've all been so sweet and supportive, and I can't even say in any words that I haven't said before how much all of your enthusiasm has meant to me! I really really love you all! Here's to the summer and many more fics!
EDIT: Sorry, it's divided into two parts now bc LJ just can't handle the word count. booooooooo.
1864
Rupert knew he had explicitly told her not to come and see him off, going so far as to not even tell her which port he was leaving from, and yet there was still a small flicker of hope in him that dared to eagerly anticipate her arrival, desperate to see her among the crowd anyways.
It was a stupid wish, seeing as how she was probably still furious with him and probably never wanted to see him again. Still, he couldn’t help thinking seeing her face just one more time would make this task more bearable. Just one last kiss while he was still here…
He made his way slowly back up the boarding plank, letting the crush of bodies carry him forward, his very limbs reluctant to move him that much farther from Emma. Just as he finally relinquished any expectations of seeing her, already mentally planning on going straight to his cabin on board to get so raging drunk he might hopefully pass out for the whole voyage, the sound of his name made him snap his head around.
“Rupert! Rupert!”
He saw her then, jostled in the crowd, eager to make it on board. He pushed his way through the crowd, ignoring the angry protests of the people he shoved aside.
When he finally reached her, he immediately pulled her into a tight embrace, pressing a hard kiss to her lips without preamble. He didn’t know how long they stood there, only that he was struck with a yearning so fierce he hoped the moment would never end.
When she finally broke away, she leaned her forehead against his, breathing deeply, seemingly not in any rush to say anything.
He cradled her face between his hands, tilting her head back so he could look into her eyes.
“You came? But how?" he finally asked, every hope he’d had that morning coming true.
“You couldn’t keep me away if you’d tried,” she replied with a smile. “Well, tried harder,” she amended. He grinned and opened his mouth to say something when a loud whistle pierced through the noisy dock, signaling that it was almost time to leave.
“God, Em. I wish I didn’t have to leave. I-”
“Rupes-”
“No, let me get this out,” he insisted firmly, cutting off her interruption. “I love you, Emma.” Her eyes widened at his sudden declaration, never before having heard those words from him.
Seeing the surprise on her face made him want to kick himself. He should have told her sooner than this, and often. He’d always known how he felt about her- thought that with every moment he’d spent with her, every kiss he’d given her made it obvious enough, but he realized now that he also should have spoken it plainly so there would be no doubt in her mind.
He suddenly wanted to make up for all the days he could have told her, repeat the words over and over until the full measure of his love sunk into her very bones, warming her during his absence.
But now it was too late.
“I love you,” he repeated for good measure, and continued on determinedly. “So much, that I’m leaving everything I know behind just for the possibility of becoming someone worthy of you. I promise I’ll do whatever it takes, and I’ll come back. I swear, I’ll come back to you.”
1865
Emma quickened her pace as she rushed up the path to the familiar white gate. She was running a bit late for her morning breakfast with Rupert, a routine they had fallen into after he had recovered from his fever, and she mused over the fact that only just a short week ago she had been dragging her heels where she now practically raced at the prospect of seeing him.
Things had finally changed for the better between them ever since their midnight conversation, and for once in a long time, Emma felt as if everything was going to be all right. Maybe not exactly how she had envisioned, but she’d come to realize rarely anything in her life ever followed according to plan.
The gate was uncharacteristically shut at this time, so she walked over to the sentry at the gatehouse.
“Hello?” she called out hesitantly as she approached the young man. “I was just wondering if I could get through?” The guard looked up moodily and was about to reply when he saw who was addressing him. Seeing the pretty face before him, he jerked smartly to attention, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck self-consciously.
“Oh, right! Yes, of course! Miss--?”
“Watson,” she answered quickly, hoping to streamline this whole process and get in faster. “I’m here to see Corporal Grint.” The guard’s face fell an imperceptible amount.
“Your father?” he asked, trying to feign casualness as he leaned up against the wall of the gatehouse. Emma laughed at the ridiculousness of the question, seeing as how she had just told him her last name, and it clearly wasn’t Grint. Well, not yet anyways, a small voice in the back of her mind prodded.
Shoving that whole train of thought out of her mind, she refocused on the soldier in front of her.
“No, he’s my--”
“Brother? Cousin? A friend of the family, perhaps?” he asked hopefully. Finally understanding what was going on, Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing at his poor attempts at flirting with her. The very idea of this type of exchange with someone other than Rupert was such a foreign concept to her that it took all her self-control from laughing outright at his efforts. Knowing that would only come across as unkind, she bit back the chuckles that threatened to erupt and cleared her throat.
“My fiancé,” she stated firmly, giving him a meaningful look. He let out a defeated sigh and signalled the other sentry on the opposite side to unlock the gate, moving to pull them open for her.
“Can’t fault a man for tryin’, right?” he asked resignedly as she walked by. “If it were me, though, I’d run and have the chaplain marry us before another fella had a chance to come along and change your mind!” She flashed him an exasperated grin and rolled her eyes, thinking that with Rupert, there was no-- and would never be-- ‘another fella’ that could ever change her mind about who she wanted.
The ease with which she had insisted that he was her fiancé, though, made her mind pause for a minute. Of all the things she and Rupert had talked about since their unspoken agreement to try and find their way back to being together, their engagement had been the one thing she hadn’t brought up.
It used to be that being with Rupert had been easier than breathing- an extension of her very being that was so natural, she’d never thought about what it might be like if they hadn’t known each other since they were children. Their shared history used to make everything so effortless, but now that she was in a sense starting all over with him, she hadn’t quite figured out how to tell him exactly what she wanted without shocking or frightening him off. Rushing or pressuring him into something was her worst fear, but at the same time she had never been one to thrive on uncertainty. Was there something so wrong with wanting to know exactly where they stood with each other?
She was so distracted with her thoughts that she didn’t immediately realize what was happening when someone suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her into a darkened closet. Her first reaction was to scream out in alarm, but when her eyes adjusted to the dim light and she saw who it was, she relaxed and fixed her sternest glare on the redhead before her.
“What are you doing?” she demanded hotly, all too aware of the sensations his extremely close proximity was causing throughout her body. “You scared me half to death!”
Rupert gave her a small, unapologetic smile.
“You were late,” he said simply, as if that explained his actions. She raised one of her eyebrows skeptically.
“So you waited to ambush me?” His smile grew wider at her phrasing.
“Can you blame me?” he asked, his voice softening as he brushed back an errant lock of hair that had escaped from her chignon, letting his fingers linger against her cheek. Emma bit down on her lower lip, struggling to breathe normally when he let his arm rest on the shelf behind her back, trapping her even closer to him.
“Th- there was a mishap with the chickens at the boarding house this morning,” she said after a heated moment of silence, steering their conversation back onto a safer, more mundane topic. “That’s why I’m late.”
His eyes flickered back up to her face, a slight shadow passing over his features.
“Not because of that guard at the gate you were laughing with?”
Emma blinked in confusion. He’d been watching her? Oh god, had he heard her calling him her fiancé? She felt like she could die of embarrassment right there.
“You heard that?” she asked timidly, unsure of his reaction to her labelling him thus. He frowned, leaning away from her in the small space.
“Yeah,” he answered warily, the crease between his eyes furrowing. She clasped her hands in front of her nervously, wringing her fingers tightly.
“I’m sorry,” she began contritely, hoping her slip of the tongue wouldn’t set the progress they had been making together backwards. She wanted to reassure him that she wasn’t rushing him; that she didn’t expect anything from him, but deep down, she knew that she really did at some point.
“I just don’t understand,” he began grimly, his suggestive demeanor of just a minute ago replaced with one of frustration. “How am I supposed to figure out what this--” he gestured to the space between them, “--is when you’re off...”
Emma attempted to cut him off, not wanting to give him a chance to voice his doubts lest they become more real to him once said out loud, but they ended up speaking at the same time, filling the small closet with clashing sentences.
“I promise I won’t say it again.”
“...flirting with other people?”
They both paused at the other’s words, matching puzzled looks coming over both their faces.
“Wait, what?” she finally asked him indignantly, too busy being offended at his assumption to even take the tiniest bit of pleasure in his obvious display of jealousy. “What are you talking about? I wasn’t flirting with him! He was trying to flirt with me!”
“Oh,” Rupert said somewhat guiltily as he dropped his defensive posture and relaxed somewhat. The questioning look reappeared on his face, though, when he asked, “Well, what were you talking about, then?”
“I thought you were upset at how I told him you were my fiancé,” she answered automatically, the possibility that she maybe didn’t want to divulge that little tidbit not occurring to her at the moment.
Eventually realizing what she’d just admitted, she immediately wished she could take it back. The complete shock on his face made her mentally slap herself for not just making something up. Something far less revealing than the truth. She lamented the fact that she’d never been a very good liar.
Rupert’s eyes lowered slowly as he took a step towards her.
“You told him that I was your fiancé?” he asked, his neutral tone not at all hinting at his feelings on the matter.
Emma hesitated before answering him, trying to gauge his reaction. Was he upset with her? He didn’t look particularly angry, but then why did she feel a prickle of something akin to panic run down her spine? As if she were being hunted somehow?
His face was now only centimeters from her own, and she could see his eyes practically glitter in the weak light.
Yes, hunted was the right word.
“Well, I was running late,” she tried to explain, “and he was... I didn’t want to give him the impression that... because I’m already...” she knew she was rambling now, and let out an annoyed breath. Really, this was not exactly how she wanted to tell him that she still imagined them getting married sometime in their future, but if he was going to take issue with it, she might as well get it out now. She stiffened her spine and narrowed her gaze up at him.
“So what if I did?”
She awaited the inevitable argument; the protests and half-hearted excuses on why he didn’t feel the same.
And was floored when his lips abruptly crashed against hers instead.
Her eyes flew open in surprise, but after a moment, just as they were fluttering shut, he pulled away.
“Is that what you want?” he asked, and Emma could hear the hopeful uncertainty in his voice. A frown made its way across her face as she answered.
“Of course,” she said emphatically. “I never stopped wanting that. Honestly, Rupert, sometimes you can be so--”
He seemed not to hear the second part of her sentence as he took her face between his hands and leaned down swiftly to kiss her again. Thoroughly silenced for the moment, Emma immediately gave herself over to the sensation of his mouth gliding over hers. It was a strange combination of sweet familiarity and unknown urgency; the feel of his lips the same as ever, whereas the insistent heat that burned beneath her skin was a wholly unpredicted reaction she was only too eager to explore further.
His hands roamed all over her with reckless impulse, determined to memorize every inch as he traced the outline of her shoulders and ran down the length of her arms. She leaned more heavily into his touch and he felt a wild, desperate need to be alone with her-- in someplace that was not a closet.
As if she’d read his mind, she abruptly pulled back and asked him in an uneven whisper if he would come out with her that afternoon.
“Where?” he said hoarsely, dragging his mouth along the line of her jaw, physically unable to stop touching her.
“There’s someplace I want to show you,” she replied cryptically, and he could practically hear the smile in her voice. He let her take his hand then and lead them out of the cramped closet, a pleasant warmth settling into his chest at the simple feel of her hand in his.
At that moment he was sure he didn’t care where they ended up-- only that she’d be with him.
(CONTINUED...)