"Her Majesty, Queen Emma!"
He instinctively fell on one knee and bowed his head, for once remembering the protocol. She hated it, he hated it, but they were not alone in this grand audience hall, rays of sunshine barely touching the glittering walls and yet making them flare, wondrously. It was opulent as it was cold, and yet the pirate felt strangely at home in it. So many meetings. So many glances shared. So many...
Quiet but measured footsteps neared him and he finally lifted his head a bit, catching a glance at the queen's magnificent magenta gown, its hem embroidered with golden flowers, suns and animals. He didn't dare lift his gaze higher until he was told to.
The waiting was excruciating. A rustling sound alerted him to the fact that she was finally seated. A few breaths later he heard:
"Rise, Captain Jones."
He did as he was bid, albeit rather slowly, his gaze travelling the length of her gown, leisurely, admiring its beauty, till his eyes met the quiet before the storm that were her own. Every time Killian Jones, the fearsome pirate captain, laid eyes on the face of his sovereign, it felt as if lightning struck him all over again - her beauty was simply astonishing. Throughout all the land people sang praises to their esteemed ruler, calling her The Golden Princess - the nickname she had gotten when she was still a child. Queen Emma wasn't a princess anymore, alas, and her regal bearing belied any notions of her ever even being a child, despite her relative youth. She was like the most exquisite flower, forged from pure gold, which hurt the eyes of those who dared to look at her directly when she was in her full glory.
The light in her eyes, usually bright and piercing, was faintly dimmed today, which could've alerted him to the coming troubles if only her features were not as arresting as before. Killian Jones found himself staring, unabashedly, yet again at his sovereign's face.
Someone cleared their throat and his mind was brought back to earth. She was staring back, her mouth drawn, no hint of anything even resembling a smile or even acknowledgement on her part, her eyes impossibly distant. He felt something twist in his gut. Something was troubling his queen and he already feared its consequences.
"We have summoned you to discuss a matter of great importance, captain." she finally spoke again, her voice as clear and musical as ever. It felt as if butterflies made of steel flew from her side and landed on his skin, dissolving at the merest contact. Shivering inwardly, he inclined his head in acknowledgement of her words.
"Your Majesty."
The queen took her sweet time in elaborating on the subject, as all rulers did. After 300 years of wandering, listlessly, driven by his revenge and his empty heart, he still wondered at his luck in finding some semblance of peace at the hands of this young queen. Her majesty lost both of her royal and most esteemed parents at the tender age of sixteen, and from then onwards had managed to single-handedly defeat the Evil Queen, the murderer that destroyed her family, and had brought peace to the Enchanted Forest after those long decades of endless wars that ravaged her land. She wasn't simply a competent ruler - she was the one true queen, the saviour of the realm. The people knew that and in their gratitude made her a living saint - her image was everywhere, her name on every peasant's tongue when they had their meal or reaped their harvest.
And she once bested the unbeatable Captain Hook in a sword fight, promising to aid him in his quest for revenge in exchange for his loyalty. From that day onward, he'd been her most devoted servant.
Besides, he was in love - as much as you can be in love with someone so far above you, so beyond your reach and your wildest dreams. He was the most devoted worshipper at her altar, having sacrificed the most important and dear thing to his heart - his own revenge - and yet she was completely oblivious to the fact, of course. Now she was beyond him and yet only several years ago they killed their enemies in numerous battles, side by side. She was a young warrior queen then. Now, Emma the Saviour, the Golden Princess, was safe in her cage, forever the saint and the poster queen.
She finally decided to speak again.
"I would prefer for this to be a personal audience, counsellors. Leave us." A quick shuffling of numerous feet followed and her trusted advisors started to leave the audience hall one by one, leaving them alone, apart from the guards stationed at the doors. She waved impatiently for them to leave too but they hesitated.
"I do believe that leaving me alone with Captain Jones will not end up in me being injured in any way or killed. His protection is more than sufficient. Leave us." demanded the queen, her clear voice cutting through the air.
And then, suddenly, they were utterly and completely alone in a hall where there should have been hundreds instead of only two.
Seconds passed and neither of them spoke, choosing to simply regard each other in a curious manner. He hadn't seen her in almost a year. She hadn't seen him in maybe even more.
"Are you afraid of me all of a sudden, captain?" she finally asked, tilting her head to the side. He gulped. Always straight to the point, his queen, who didn't see the need for the usual niceties.
"No, your majesty, I'm merely anxious to hear what you have to tell me." he replied, straightening and trying to calm his beating heart.
His sovereign decided to take pity on him.
"I'm dying, captain." she said at last, eyes boring into his, trying to gauge his reaction. He suddenly felt cold all over, the ice shards inside him cutting into his innards so painfully he almost cried out right in front of her.
"Are you certain, your majesty?" he finally choked, unable to control himself any longer.
Her lips thinning, she took her sweet time in answering him.
"Yes, I'm absolutely certain."
Time froze for him and the only thing he could see was her eyes, so bright all of a sudden, ablaze with the rays of the setting sun, searching his, looking for something in them, restless and probing.
Finally she spoke, as if satisfied with the answer she'd found in them.
"My counsellors haven't been made aware of my situation, for I'm afraid they will start spreading panic amongst my people. A soon-to-be dead queen is not something they're comfortable with. Death can be... frightening."
"They obviously know nothing of death, because they know so little of life," he remarked at this, making her smile faintly, at last.
"I know enough, and yet I am afraid, captain. Does that make me weak?" she cocked an eyebrow, daring him to confirm her words.
"That merely makes you human, my queen. A very brave and exceptional human, nevertheless."
"I'm glad you find me as courageous as ever, captain. I was afraid I'd disappoint you with my admission."
"Never," he breathed, almost imperceptibly. She caught his meaning, though, because her eyes softened marginally along with her rigid stance. The queen smiled at him again, weakly.
"When I found out about my... unfortunate situation, Leroy first came up with the idea of summoning you to help me, captain. You once told me that you'd visited a land called... Neverland. Is that right?"
He straightened even more before replying.
"Yes, your majesty. I've been there before. It's the sole reason for my perfect health after 300 years of living on this earth, as you can see."
She didn't even smile and only tilted her head at this.
"Is that so?"
"Yes, my queen, for it is a land where nobody ever ages."
"Can you visit it again?" she asked.
He inclined his head, sorrowfully, "I'm afraid not, your majesty. The magic beans that were used to transport people from one realm to another no longer exist, unfortunately."
She visibly deflated at hearing this and his heart clenched at the sight. He started grasping at straws.
"But there is a rumor..."
"Yes?" she eagerly moved forward in her throne, desperate and grasping at straws herself.
"There is a rumor that one bean survived and is now in possession of the last surviving giant that lives at the top of the beanstalk. Alas, it's just a rumor, my queen, for no one knows for certain if it's true."
She looked lost in thought for a few moments before finally addressing him again.
"I can't afford to die, you know, not now. My people need me, captain." Every time she said 'die' in relation to herself, something struck his heart, painfully, and it took quite a bit out of himself not to run to her throne, grab her by the arms and shake her, screaming at her to stop this nonsense. She wasn't going to die. Not on his watch.
"Your majesty..." he started but she silenced him with a wave of her hand and then she was standing up from her throne, slowly, as if the movement itself pained her. The queen gathered her skirts and started to descend the few stairs that separated her throne from the grand hall's elaborate floor. He should have rushed to her aid but stood frozen in place instead. With every step she took, his breath hitched and warmth spread throughout his system - and yet he was incredibly nervous. Several years had passed since she'd been that close to him, almost blinding him with her ethereal face and figure. He could almost taste the sweetness of her smell on his tongue.
The queen stopped just shy of standing too close to him for comfort. For his, of course, never for hers. At times it seemed that she was not of this world, with all her distance and detachment from all things man, and yet he still remembered the feel of her by his side when they fought together. Eons ago, she was just as human as he were. If, of course, you could call even remotely human a pirate captain that spent the last three hundred years hell bent on avenging his long lost love and hand. But she, of all people, saw something in him that day that made her pause before delivering that fatal blow, for he was so ready, ready as they come to be relieved from his horrible duty. She made him hers that day.
He was so lost in thought, reminiscing about the past, that her next question positively startled him.
"Are you ready to serve me, captain, as you once promised me?" her voice was smooth and gentle and yet the implication that he might not be up to it sliced through him like a razorblade. His eyes flashed.
"Anything for you, your majesty, and you know it." he answered, trying his damnedest to keep the bitterness from seeping into his tone.
She took a step further so that they were finally standing chest to chest, his breathing starting to become ragged, hers - barely under control. Her cool hand suddenly found his good one and gripped it, hard.
"Find it for me, captain," she whispered, her words branding his very being, white hot, an order he'd never be able to escape, for there'd be no rest until he found what she so desperately needed. Her very life depended on him, at last, and he would die and be forever without peace before he disappointed her.
The queen was still clutching his hand and it didn't look like she was going to let go of it soon, as if it were her anchor in a sea of impending darkness.
"Find it," she breathed again and finally claimed his lips with her own in a fierce kiss.
He felt himself dissolving into nothingness and into everything at once, his cells adrift in space and yet charged, dangerously close to exploding. He'd never tasted a more desperate kiss, or sweeter lips - never in his life had he felt such longing and passion in one simple touch, although hers was anything but.
And then it was over and she was dying and he had to leave her so that she could have at least some semblance of life in the future.
He would give her everything. If only it helped.
