A/N So, sometimes when Prairie Lullaby isn't going that well, I fiddle around with some other writing. This is one of those attempts. It's Lieutenant Duckling, and meant to just be a bit of fun. I have a plan, but no idea how long it'll be in the end. The title is partly from The Bangles song of the same name, and partly from the Matthew Arnold poem, and mostly just because I'm crap at thinking of titles and couldn't come up with anything else.
I have had it up on Tumblr for a while, but there's a few chapters now so I figured I'd put it here because, say what you like about this site, I've had the absolute best response to Prairie Lullaby, guest reviewers included. Seriously, the people who've commented, favourited, followed and read that story have been amazing and I'm feeling so happy to have stumbled into this fandom :D
But for those of you reading Prairie Lullaby, don't fear because I am working on the next part of that, too :D
All Princess Emma had really wanted was a little time to herself, to just be Emma and not all the things everyone expected. Of course falling into the sea had not been a part of that plan, and now she's left in a strange place with a strange young man and perhaps home is a lot better than she thought it was.
Lieutenant Killian Jones hadn't intended on saving a princess. But pulling her from the water is only the start of the journey and now they have to figure out a way to survive the dangers facing them, and each other.
Stuck together and far from home, the two of them are about to discover that sometimes it takes learning about someone else to really get to know yourself.
Emma hadn't really enjoyed the wedding, but the boat ride was nice.
The boat ride to the wedding of Prince Eric and the former mermaid Ariel had been long and tedious because she'd been trapped in a cabin with her entire family, most of whom seemed intent on being unduly annoying. Honestly, sometimes just the sound of her brother Jamie's breathing made her want to throw him overboard.
Sometimes she just wants a little space to herself.
But the wedding was over and her younger sister Eva had managed to persuade their parents that she desperately wanted to see the fabled Pink Cliffs, because who doesn't need to be nearly blinded by staring at some slightly pinkish cliffs formed by hot springs as they ran into the sea?
The answer to that question, was the Princess Eva, who begged and wheedled until her parents, Queen Snow and Prince David, finally gave in, and let her follow on a separate boat which would divert in order to take in her little sight-seeing excursion, providing, of course, that her older sister also accompanied her, along with their maids. Emma was just glad that Eva's pet rabbit hadn't been packed on board as well.
But even so, this trip is…better. Eva, who at 12 is six years younger than Emma, did at least stop talking when they finally got their first glimpse of the cliffs. Emma got to stand on deck and enjoy the solitude her sister's silence afforded her.
And then her solitude is broken by a male voice close by. "Are they to your liking, your highness?" Turning, Emma sees that Captain Liam Jones has joined her at the railing.
"I think…they are probably as lovely as Princess Eva hoped they would be," Emma replies, trying, and probably failing, not to stare at Captain Jones too much. If she was being honest with herself, then she would admit that she has a small crush on the Captain of the Jewel of the Realm. But it isn't something that she expects will ever mean anything. She's a princess, for one thing, and he's older and unlikely to ever want someone as unworldly as she is.
But she's young, and he's handsome, and nice, and she very much enjoys watching him move about the boat.
"And do you find them lovely, your highness?" Captain Jones asks. Emma is almost certain that she's blushing because he's looking at her so intently, like he's really interested in her opinion and it's so very flattering. She realises that it's one thing to admire someone from afar, it is quite another to come face to face with the object of her admiration.
"I'm sure I do, although I am not perhaps as enamoured with geological wonders as my sister is. But I am here so she may have her glimpse of them, and not get herself in trouble in the process." Emma glances over towards one of the sailors who is warning Eva not to lean too far over the railing. She lets out a small sigh and turns back to Captain Jones. "It's not easy being the eldest, you know," she adds, conspiratorially, because he's been so nice that it's hard not to slip into the habit of letting him into her confidence.
"Oh, believe me. I understand, your highness." Captain Jones gives her a warm smile, followed by a slight bow, and then leaves her side. Emma can see one of the other interchangeable officers dotted around the boat watching her, but she was used to that. People stare all the time, thinking she is something special when she isn't. Not really.
Her birth had been heralded with much fanfare, coming as it did so soon after the banishment of the Evil Queen, Regina. She was, after all, the product of True Love and it was expected she'd bring great things to the kingdom, even though they were expecting the return of Regina at any time.
But Regina didn't return, and Emma didn't show any signs of being magic and, eventually, Queen Snow and Prince David became complacent enough to risk extending their family. First came Eva, then the twins, Leo and Jamie, followed by David Jnr, and the baby of the family, Elsa.
It wasn't that Emma felt pushed out of the nest, she just felt a little…swamped. There were so many people in her family, all fighting to be heard, and she didn't have anything that was just hers. Even this sight-seeing trip wasn't for her benefit, it was for Eva's.
She's broken out of her reverie by Eva coming over and elbowing her in the side. "You like him," she accuses with all the vehemence only a 12 year old girl could muster.
"I do not. And I would thank you to remember some sense of propriety, Eva. Even though mother and father are not here, it doesn't mean that you get to go around imagining all sorts of things that, clearly, do not exist."
Eva rolls her eyes rather dramatically, which looks odd in a face which is so much like their mother's. Emma's sister is as different to her in colouring as she is in temperament. "You're just in a mood because it's your time of the month." Eva smiles, knowingly.
"You do not know what you're speaking about." Emma remains as haughty and detached as she can, aware that the odd officer-person was still watching them from further down the boat. Whoever he is, he's getting on her nerves and she really doesn't want to give him a show by pinching her sister's arm, even though she is sorely tempted.
"Oh, I do so," Eva replies, smugly. "I've started, too."
Emma frowns. "You have? But you're only 12."
"13 in a week, so I'm practically grown now."
Now Emma is tempted to roll her own eyes. Eva is so adamant that she's a grown up, but really, what difference does it make that she's menstruating? It hadn't made any difference to Emma, after all. Sure, she'd been allowed to leave the nursery but other than that, she was treated like a child just as much as she always was.
All Emma really wants is some time on her own. A little time to be just Emma, and not the daughter of the Queen and Prince consort, the sister of all the other princes and princesses, a member of the royal household, the product of True Love and all the things that defined her. None of them were about who she is as a person.
Feeling a little deflated, Emma returns to her cabin to wait for their arrival in The Enchanted Forest.
The storm comes suddenly, a few hours later. Emma listens to the rain hitting the deck above her, the shouts of the men, and the sails as they're whipped mercilessly by the wind. It's all a little terrifying, being buffeted about, and her stomach lurches more than once as the Jewel of the Realm does the same.
It does not help her at all when her maid starts heaving into a bucket in the corner of the room. Emma's stomach rolls and she develops a sudden, strong need to breathe something other than the close and slightly fetid air in the cabin. Opening a porthole is out of the question, so there is only one thing for it.
Surely she can just stick her head up above the little hatch that leads down here and just take a few breaths? That won't hurt anyone will it?
Emma steps out of the cabin only to discover that her sister Eva has followed her out. "Are you going out?" Eva demands, in a way that reveals she is hardly the grown-up she believes she is.
"I'm just…getting some air."
"Well, if you're going up there, I'm going up there. I want to see how big the waves are."
"I don't really think that's a good idea, Eva."
"Stop treating me like I'm a child, Emma. You're not Mother. And I'm allowed."
"I don't know if you are, Eva." Emma really wishes that Eva would just learn to take no for an answer.
"Well, you're doing it. And I bet you didn't even ask your Captain Jones, did you? Because you go all red when you talk to him. So, whatever Emma! I'm going up to look."
Emma watches as Eva climbs the ladder and then pushes on the hatch to the deck. It doesn't open at first and Emma can hear Eva give a small grunt as she pushes harder. Emma wishes that Eva would just get on with it so she can see what a bad idea this is, and they can go back to the cabin none the worse for wear. "Come on, Eva," she mutters, quietly. "Just get it open."
And odd shiver goes through Emma and she feels a strange tingling sensation in her fingers, but she pays it no attention as she focuses on her sister. Eva gives one last shove and the hatch suddenly opens with a bang, causing her to give a small squeak of surprise. Emma is immediately hit with a blast of cold air swirling down to where she's standing.
"Eva? Eva, I don't think this is a great idea."
"Phfft. Stop being such a scaredy-cat!" Eva may have been adamant that she was a woman now, but right at that moment she sounds more like their brothers who seem to spend most of their lives daring each other to perform more and more outrageous tasks. Emma is briefly glad that it's only Eva here with her, and not the boys, and then she follows her sister up the ladder.
"Don't go out Eva! I don't think it's safe." The boat lurches violently to the right.
"I just want to see. It's very dark and I can't see properly." Eva disappears through the hatch and out of Emma's sight.
She isn't at all sure what to do. On the one hand, most likely one of the sailors will drag her back down any minute now, just as they'd prevented her from falling overboard earlier that afternoon.
On the other hand, Emma thinks, as moments pass by and there's still no sign of Eva, it's possible that the crew are too busy to notice a child up on the deck. Anything could be happening to her. And as much as they would no doubt try to stop themselves from expressing it, it was almost a given that her parents will not be pleased if their first born daughter lets their second born daughter tumble off a boat during a storm. She remembers all the walks she'd gone on as a child, and being forced to hold her baby sister's clammy little hand so Eva didn't wander off into the gardens, or the forest, or the kitchens in search of a forbidden cake.
She fervently wishes that Eva was still so compliant.
Emma pokes her head up through the hatch and immediately regrets it. The wind whips past her head, loosening her hair and sending strands spiralling around. The rain pelts her face, the drops icy and unforgiving. Sure, there was the fresh air she'd been craving, but the roiling of her stomach is no longer due to the movement of the boat or the sickness of her maid; now it's caused by fear about what has happened to Eva.
"The waves are really big, Emma!" a familiar voice calls from her left.
"That's lovely, Eva," she calls back, as she watches the sails move overhead and wonders just how much more wind it would take to rip one down. "Come back inside now!"
Emma waits for some kind of reply from Eva and none arrives. "Eva?" she calls, searching for her sister in the gloom. "Come back!"
"I…I can't." Eva's voice sounds small and far away.
"Yes you can! Get back in here now!" Emma isn't even trying to hide the desperation in her own voice. Why, oh why, could Eva never do as she was asked?
"I'm scared Emma! It's too scary up here!" Emma has a sudden vision of her sister as she was when she was a toddler too frightened to go down the steep stone stairs in the castle. Eva would simply stand at the top and yell for Emma to come and help her down. And each time it happened, without fail, Emma would go because her father always told her that she was his big girl and it was her job to help those who needed it.
"It's fine, Eva. Just come back and you'll be fine!"
"NO! You come and get me!"
"I…" Emma looked around helplessly for any sign of someone else who might come to their aid, but the few sailors she can see aren't paying any attention to the two girls. "I'm coming Eva!"
She crawls out of the hatch and, keeping on all fours, inches her way along the slick deck towards the sound of Eva's voice. "Just hold on!"
"I am holding on!" Eva yells. "I'm not stupid, Emma!"
Emma thinks that they could very much debate that assertion right about then, but maybe she will wait until they are back in the cabin, dry and out of danger. Then she'll tell Eva exactly what she thinks of her little stunt.
Emma keeps crawling and, after a moment, spies something vaguely white on the deck which approximates Eva's form. Emma reaches out a hand and touches the object, shouting "I'm here!" She suspects that's not as comforting to Eva as it once was on the stairs of the castle.
"I want to go inside!" Eva wails.
"Take my hand." Eva's hand is wet and slippery, as is the deck itself. Emma holds on to something metal that she hopes is well-anchored with one hand, while she tries to pull Eva towards her with the other. Her sister is almost a dead weight.
"You'll have to crawl, too, Eva," she calls out.
"I'm scared though!"
"I've got you. You can do it."
It seems to take hours, although it must only be minutes, but they painstakingly crawl back to the hatch. "Get in!" Emma urges her sister, and Eva slides her legs over the edge and disappears, not even bothering to hide her sob of relief from her sister.
Emma follows, and then stands, toes curled around the rung of the ladder, trying to close the hatch. It's heavy, though, and while Eva had been able to push it open, the direction of the wind and the tilting of the boat is now pinning it to the deck. Emma determines that she needed a better angle, and more leverage, so climbs back up, intending to lift the hatch partially up while balancing one foot on the deck, and then close it behind her as she climbs down the ladder.
It seems like an easy thing to accomplish in her head, but the wind is strong, the rain relentless and her soft slippers have no grip on the sodden surface of the deck. Emma grasps the hatch with both hands and pulls, just as a large wave hits the side of the boat and it rolls, in the same direction she's pulling. Emma's wet hands slip, leaving her clutching at nothing, and her feet slide from underneath her as though she is pretend-skating down the marble floored hallways of the castle in her stockinged feet once again.
She's so surprised to find herself sliding in this fashion, her arms wind-milling, her mouth probably open despite the rain, her eyes wide, that she is almost less surprised when she hits the water. Of course it happens this way. If she is ever going to fall off a boat in the middle of a storm, it will be because Eva, the perpetual thorn in her side, has caused her to do so.
For a moment she forgets to do anything to stop herself drifting in the icy water. It's so cold that all she wants to do is curl in a ball and hope that it goes away, soon. But somewhere deep in her mind she knows that isn't going to happen. Swim, she tells herself. Emma, you have to swim.
Breaking the surface, Emma can make out the dark shape of the boat. It looks a lot further away than she thought it should. How can it have got away so fast? She begins to swim towards it, although the waves feel like they're pushing her back and she can barely see as they break over her head, and her limbs feel almost too heavy to move, dragged down by the cold and by her dress wrapping itself around her.
It all seems hopeless, and Emma's on the verge of giving up entirely and resigning herself to a watery grave, when she feels arms pulling at her. For a moment she remembers the story of how Ariel had once saved her mother and she imagines that the mermaid has followed the ship and is now stepping in to rescue Snow's daughter from the same fate.
But it isn't Ariel. It's one of the sailors off the boat. She's at first relieved because she's no longer on her own and those few long moments when it was just Emma versus the sea were truly terrifying, but then he starts dragging her in what is, clearly, the wrong direction.
"No!" she yells, as best as she can, above the sound of the rain and the wind and the waves. "The boat!" Emma points at the dark shape that she is sure is the boat she's fallen off. She just needs to get back there and then someone will pull them up, and it will all be OK.
What she doesn't need just now is to be dragged further out to sea by some idiot sailor. She tries to wrench free of the grip he has on her arm, but she can't. A choked sob escapes her, but she doubts he heard it above the other noise around them.
He is pulling her to her death and he doesn't even care.
Her parents have always feared that her life will end this way. At the mercy of someone with a grudge against her family, someone who works for The Evil Queen, or King George or even the Dark One. Someone who wants to hurt her family and thinks she's the key to meeting that aim.
But then, in the midst of her despair, Emma realises that there is something in front of them, something dark and looming.
Have they turned around and found the boat again? She wants to ask, but this isn't really the time to start up a conversation.
Minutes that feel like hours pass by. Emma's cold, so cold, and she's tired and confused. Wherever they're going, she isn't sure she can make it now. It seems like a much better decision to just let go, to let herself sink, to give up on ever making it out of the water.
She wants desperately to let go, get rid of the pain in her arms and her legs, but he won't let her. She tries to stop swimming but he yells "Keep going!" and drags her through the water.
"No," Emma says, although she doubts he's heard her voice. She tries prying his fingers off her arm again, but his grip is like iron. She relents, knowing when she's beaten, and they make a little more progress through the water.
The dark shapes ahead became clearer and Emma realises something very important. They aren't heading towards the boat, their destination is the shore.
He lets go, finally, as they reach shallow water and she collapses, spluttering and overwhelmed. "Get up and keep going!" he barks, and although a corner of her mind balks at the reproof from some sailor she doesn't even know, she does as he instructs, and, eventually, she realises that she's crawling on sand rather than through water.
Emma looks over at the man who's dragged her onto the beach and who is now sitting, looking out at the tumultuous sea behind them. She supposes she should feel some gratitude, but she doesn't. Not right then.
"It was the wrong way!" she hisses. "We went the wrong way!" She may be out of the water now, but her heart has sunk somewhere along the way to the shore. She isn't where she's supposed to be, and she's left Eva behind. Worst of all she feels like she's let everyone down.
"We're safe," he tells her, and she crawls a little closer to get a better look at him. From his uniform he's completely interchangeable with all the other sailors on the ship, the ones of higher rank, anyway. But there is something a little familiar about him…she just can't figure out what. And then, in a flash, she does and she realises that he's the man who'd been watching her talk to the captain, earlier in the day.
She's no longer sure if she truly is safe. The way he'd watched her before, so intensely, it was…worrying. And now she's stuck here with him. Wherever here is, exactly. She can almost make herself believe that he's orchestrated the whole thing and she's ended up overboard because of him.
"But…my sister…" Emma says, trying to work out what to do next.
"She was in the water, too?" he asks, sharply.
"No. She's on the boat. And I'm supposed to be on the boat too! But I fell off, and you didn't take me back, you brought me here, and they left us behind!"
"It's a ship." His voice is dark, and unimpressed.
"What?" Whatever Emma had expected the response to her little outburst to be, it isn't that.
"It's a ship. You fell off a ship, not a boat."
"Well that doesn't make it sound any better, does it?"
He looks at her coolly and she tries to make out any of his features in the gloomy light, but she fails. All she can tell is that he has dark hair, and that may have just been because he was wet, like she is. She shivers, involuntarily.
"No," he replies. "It's still a bloody stupid thing to do. What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking that I had to get my sister because no one else was bothering to do anything about it!"
"Perhaps everyone on board was a little too busy to deal with a couple of silly girls who couldn't figure out it was safer below deck during a storm!"
Emma doesn't really have a good comeback to that because, she has to admit, going up on deck had been a silly thing to do. Her only defence is that she'd tried to talk Eva out of it, but it was a meagre defence at best. In the end, she decides to pull rank. "You do realise who you're addressing in such a manner, don't you?"
"Someone I just pulled out of the water. A little gratitude might have been appropriate…your highness."
Emma stays quiet. She's happy to be alive, but at the same time, deep down she still feels that he's done something wrong in dragging them ashore rather than attempting to get back to the boat…ship. Whatever it is! All Emma knows is that it's sailed off and left them.
Emma presses her lips together, trying to will away the desire to cry. She simply won't give in to the temptation in front of this man.
"Who are you, anyway?" she asks him.
"Jones…" Emma turns a scornful look in his direction, even though he probably won't see it with the little light there is. And then she interrupts him.
"No. You're not. You're forgetting that I've met the captain, and you're clearly not Liam Jones. Nice try, but just because we're stuck here it doesn't give you the opportunity to impersonate him."
There's a moment where the only sound is the waves crashing and the wind howling and Emma regrets her harsh words because calling the man's bluff has probably caused him to rethink any plan he might have to keep her alive.
"I'm Lieutenant Jones. Killian Jones," he says quietly. "The captain's my brother."
"Oh." Emma wonders if he's going to press for some kind of apology for the fact she'd accused him, outright, of being a liar. But instead he stands up and she sees what looks like his hand extended towards her. It's still too gloomy to make much out.
"We should probably find some shelter," he says, as she takes the offered hand with as much grace as she can muster under the circumstances, and allows him to help her up. "Your hand is freezing," he comments.
"All of me is freezing." Emma has never been so cold in her life.
"Let's…see if there's a cave, or something." Lieutenant Jones starts to pull Emma along the wet sand and she stumbles, feeling anything but graceful.
"But…shouldn't we wait? For them to come back for me…us?" She hopes he hasn't noticed her last minute correction, as she hasn't meant to be insensitive. But deep down she knows that it's far more likely her absence will be noted before his. After all, she's one of only two princesses on board, he's just another sailor. Brother of the captain or not, it may be a while before anyone thinks to see if he is where he should be. Eva will have surely raised the alarm about Emma.
Emma feels another pang of guilt about leaving her sister alone, even though she is still fairly convinced that Eva has caused the whole disaster with her mad desire to see how big the waves are.
"They won't come back. Not in this weather."
Emma wishes she could formulate some argument to the contrary. They wouldn't just leave her here, would they?
But he sounds so defeated, so utterly certain that their fate is now to be stuck on this little rocky beach, that she can't think of anything that might prove him wrong.
They trudge through wet sand and over rocks which cut through Emma's slippers and make her hop about in pain at least once on their journey. And then, when she thinks she would rather just give up on the walking and sit in the rain, Lieutenant Jones suddenly says, "Up there!", and she finds herself being pushed up some rocks towards an inky black spot.
They pause at the entrance. "What if there's something in there?" she whispers.
"Well," Lieutenant Jones replies, slowly. "I think we'll have to hope that there is not, because I would be sorely disappointed if I had rescued a princess only to see her get eaten by something unspeakable."
He takes a step inside the cave and Emma follows, sitting alongside him when he sinks onto the hard stone. "You think it'd catch me first?" she whispers. "You don't have much faith in my ability to get away from danger."
"I guess we'll have to see, your highness" he replies, quietly.
The sound of the wind and the sea is still loud, but the loudest sound in the cave is the chattering of Emma's teeth. She tries biting her lip, tasting the dried salt there in the process, but it doesn't work. The chill that has seeped into her bones isn't like anything she's ever felt before.
Lieutenant Jones shifts slightly and she feels his right arm go over her shoulders and pull her close against him. She stiffens at the contact; it's the closest she's ever been to another person who she isn't related to, or who isn't in her service. "We have to keep warm," he murmurs, rubbing her upper arms with his hands.
"Easier said than done," Emma replies, blinking back tears again.
They sit like that, silently, in the mouth of the cave while the storm carries on around them. Emma isn't sure how much time has passed but the cold is slowly, painfully slowly, leaving her. She's still wet, and her dress is no doubt ruined by salt to boot, but she doesn't feel quite as alone as she had on the beach.
"Thank-you," she whispers into the dark. She doesn't turn her head to look at him, and the fact that there is no light to see by is only part of the reason. They are stuck together, now, after all. Whether they like it or not.
"You're welcome," the lieutenant replies, as his hands keep up their ministrations. "Your highness."
Thanks for reading!