This was based on a Tumblr prompt by capnswanjones: "Princess Emma meets Killian Jones at a ball in which he has disguised himself as a nobleman in order to gain access to the castle and rob them."

The room spun as I danced and swayed to the melody in my head. I hummed along with the catchy song I heard just last night. It wasn't a song a proper lady should dance to, or even know, but I liked it. The dancing I was doing wasn't considered ladylike either, but it's not like it was bad either. It was fun to just let go and let your body move to the beat.

As I spun I caught a brief glimpse of a figure standing inside my doorway. I let out a yelp and spun to face them. When I saw my dad standing there I let out a sigh of relief.

"Practicing for the ball tonight?" he teased. I laughed and made a face.

"No, the nobles might have a heart attack if I danced like that. Even mom wouldn't consider it proper."

"Well it's not appropriate for a ballroom," he said with a shrug. He took a step forward. "That song you were humming—it's an old bar song. How did you learn it?"

I felt my face grow red. I couldn't tell him that I heard it at a bar, because then he'd assume I actually went to the bar, then I would have to explain that Grandma Regina taught me a spell that allowed me to hone in on a certain location and hear what was going on there. And if my parents knew Regina had been teaching me magic they wouldn't let me visit her without one of them accompanying me. She never taught me anything dangerous, just little tricks like levitating small items and tuning my hearing.

"I heard one of the guards humming it," I lied. He seemed to buy it, and for a minute I felt guilty; I hated lying to him because we usually shared everything. Brushing the feeling away, I smoothed my skirts and fixed the hair that strayed from the bun my maid had put it in.

"So, what are you doing here?"

He pushed away from the wall and closed the gap between us. "Does a father need an excuse to see his daughter?"

The smile on my face grew wider. "No, but he usually has one."

"Not this time, but if you insist on a reason, then let's say I'm here to help you practice your dancing—your ballroom dancing."

We both knew I didn't need any practice dancing. I'd been taking private lessons every day since I was six, and I was already an accomplished dancer. I loved to dance, but it also helped improve my footwork when practicing sword fighting, so I had all the more reason to do it regularly.

I held my left hand up, getting into position. Dancing was much like sword fighting in that aspect. It was all a dance that one had to memorize and practice at. Both also required partners, which was why my sword fighting skills were still very poor. Dad looked down at my left hand and furrowed his eyebrows, as if he was confused. I noted it, but then dismissed the thought. I had other things to think about. He put his right hand forward and we began to dance.

"Nervous about the ball tonight?" he asked as we circled each other.

"No, why would I be?"

"Well this is the first ball where you're eligible to be courted."

I raised an eyebrow. "I thought that was the ball for my sixteenth birthday."

"That's what your mother told you, isn't it?" When I nodded he continued. "It was supposed to be…but I may have sent letters in the invitations stating that you weren't eligible yet." He gave me a slightly guilty look. "I also may have threatened the noblemen to stay away from you in the letter."

I laughed. "Not that I'm not grateful, but why did you do that?"

"As much as Snow and I want you to find True Love, I wasn't ready to let you go. I still don't know if I am."

"I'll always be your little princess, daddy," I said, giving his hand a squeeze.

"I know, but it's time I let you find True Love for yourself, even if it means another man will be taking you away from me."

I rolled my eyes. "You don't have to worry about 'True Love' taking me away anytime soon."

His eyes narrowed as he studied me. "Are you sure you're not nervous?"

"Yes. Why do you keep insisting I am?"

He looked down at our hands and chuckled. "Because you offered me your left hand when I'm supposed to take your right."

I realized he was right and felt my cheeks warm in embarrassment. I pulled my hand away and we switched hands. "Sorry, I'm just a bit distracted, but it has nothing to do with that ball."

He stopped dancing and stared into my eyes intently. "What is it, then?"

I bit down on my lips and debated with myself. Should I tell him? I haven't keep much from him, we've always been open with each other, but how would he react if he knew that I wanted to go on adventures instead of leisure walks though the palace gardens? I glanced back into his trusting eyes and decided it was time to tell him.

"I don't want to find True Love…at least not yet," I said, adding the last part so he wouldn't question me, even though it was a lie, "I want to leave the castle and go on adventures, just like you and mom did when you were younger."

He was quiet for a couple agonizing seconds, so when he finally spoke I knew I wouldn't like what he was going to say. "Emma, we didn't do those things for the fun of it, we did it because we had too. Fighting Regina—fighting King George—we didn't want any of that."

"But it sounds like so much fun! You got to fight trolls and go on quests. I only want the same," I said. "Why is it so bad that I want a sword by my side instead of a man?"

"We only went through all that to give you the life we knew you deserved—the life you're living now. This right here," he gestured towards my room, "is all we've ever wanted for you."

"But what about what I want? I sit in a palace all day, reading about the adventures other people have. I want to go and have my own. I want to be brave like you and mom," I pleaded, trying to make him understand.

"You don't have to fight trolls and go on quests to be brave. Sometimes bravery simply means letting go of someone you love—like I'm trying to do. Letting them go because they need to be free, even though you're not sure how you can live without them. It's doing what's best for them, not yourself. That's bravery, Emma. Not fighting."

I took a step away and averted my eyes. It was a mistake to tell him, I knew that now. There was no use trying to make him understand anymore.

"Yes, daddy," I said. When I looked back up into his eyes I saw that he knew I didn't agree with him. He let out a sigh and took a step forward, placing a hand behind my head and planting a kiss on my forehead.

"You'll understand one day, Emma."

I tugged at the tight red vest around my chest and sucked in a deep breath. What I wouldn't give for my leather attire instead of this ridiculous clothing. I couldn't believe that only years ago, I'd been a part of this world and dressed like these people. How on earth did I not go mad? I ran a hand along my jawline, already missing the scruffy beard I'd been forced to shave to look the part of a nobleman. No matter, it would grow back soon enough, and once I found the treasury and stole all I could carry on me, I'd be back on the Jolly Roger and back into familiar clothes.

I smiled to myself as I looked around the crowded ballroom. The opportunity had been too good to pass up. I'd been sitting in the tavern just yesterday, my mates and me drinking to our most recent success in capturing a ship laden with goods from King James and Queen Snow White's kingdom, when I overheard a conversation at the table next to ours. A group of men were talking about how the King and Queen were holding a ball for their daughter's eighteenth birthday.

Apparently she was still single and her parents were eager to see her choose a husband, so all the noblemen of their kingdom and the surrounding kingdoms were invited to the ball to try and woo the princess. There must be something wrong with the lass if she was still unmarried at this age. Perhaps she was ugly and they were hoping some poor chap would be seduced by her status as princess and look past her uncomely appearance.

Whatever the reason, I had no interest in her, but the prospect of stealing valuables from right under the King and Queen's nose was just too good to pass up. Royals always kept their most prized possession inside the castle, so there was no telling what treasure I would find inside the palace walls.

All it took was a fake name and some fancy clothes to gain entrance. I also had to trade my hook in for a fake gloved hand. I lost one form of defense that way, but thankfully it wasn't considered suspicious for noblemen to carry a sword on their person, so at least I had that. I'd made the decision to leave my crew behind, not wanting to arouse suspicion by having one of them make a blunder in etiquette. Most of them were not of noble background, and therefore wouldn't know exactly how to act at a ball thrown by a king and queen.

I walked over to the table with drinks and picked up a glass of wine. It wasn't rum, but alcohol was alcohol, and later I'd need an excuse to disappear. In a half hour or so I'd ask someone where the privy was and excuse myself. After that it shouldn't take long to find the treasury, and then I'd walk back through the entrance, giving anyone asking the excuse that I had a headache.

Let the game begin.

I stood up straight and proud, knees bent slightly with my feet a good width apart. Crouched down in an attack position, I held my sword held out in front of me in one hand, my other hand holding an open book. Noise from the ballroom carried into my personal chambers; apparently the party had begun without me. Then again, I'd told my parents thirty minutes ago that I would be out shortly. I hadn't even gotten dressed yet. I was in my room wearing only my chemise, stockings, and stays. The dress I'd picked out for the ball lay on the floor in a heap. I'd meant to put it on and go out there but…well, I didn't want to.

Another stuffy old ball filled with stuffy old suitors who wanted to marry me. My mom had been hinting at me to marry since I turned sixteen, but I couldn't see turning in my freedom for something like that. All my life I'd dreamed of adventure and danger, and if I got married I'd be cooped up in a castle, attending to the duties of a princess…much like my life here. Still, if I married I wanted it to be full of excitement and romance.

I wanted to explore the world and see what was out there. There were so many adventures to be had, if one would just walk outside and go after them…but my parents seemed determined to keep me in this cage. Granted, a golden cage was pretty, but still a cage nonetheless. The only way I got adventure and danger was through the pages of my books—and at the moment that book happened to be on sword techniques.

I glanced down at the book and read the next sentence: "Measure twice, swing once. Often the battle is determined with the first blow, so make sure you are at an advantage. Once you are in position, you have two options: offense, or defense," I mumbled to myself.

I stared at the practice dummy I'd dragged out of the training room and into my personal chambers. My parents wouldn't allow anyone to teach me sword fighting, so I decided to learn it by myself. It had been a pain to drag the dummy out of the practice area, but the hardest part was keeping anyone from finding out what I was doing. I'd thrown a white sheet over it, telling people who saw me dragging it that it was a mannequin and I was sewing myself a new dress. I've never sewn anything in my entire life, but they believed me.

I turned my eyes back to the book and moved my finger down to the list of offensive moves. "Grasp your sword firmly, and match your opponent's feet step-by-step if you are circling each other, then wait for the opportune time to strike. Go for a blow to the shoulder."

I set the book down and circled around the dummy, making sure to keep my footing light. My footwork and posture was excellent from years of dance lessons and wearing a corset. When I reached the front of the dummy I swung my sword diagonally, aiming for the shoulder. It hit with a dull thud. I raised my sword and swung for the other shoulder.

I felt a little bit of satisfaction, but it vanished when I looked back at the unmoving body I'd been whacking at. I let out a small grunt of frustration. What good did it do to practice on something that never moved? I'd never be any good if I didn't practice with a living, moving person.

I pulled my sword away and raised it over my shoulder, the blade facing the wall behind me and the hilt resting right next to my face. I took a deep breath and swiped the blade across—a blow to the neck. I got into the stance again and brought it across to the other side of the neck. I felt frustration well up in me. Would I ever really be good at this? With a cry I started swinging at the dummy randomly, venting out my frustrations on it.

Suddenly the hilt slipped from my sweaty hands mid-swing and went spinning towards my window. I watched as if in slow-motion as it swung around and around like a merry-go-round. With a loud crash it slammed into my window, shattering the glass and sending it flying everywhere.

Oh no, my mom was going to kill me when she found out!

I quickly ran over to the pieces of glass on the floor and began picking them up. Suddenly there was a knock on my door and for a moment my mind instantly jumped to the fact that I was undressed, then to the fact that there was broken glass on the floor and a practice dummy in the middle of my room. I quickly grabbed a broom and swept the broken shards under a nearby rug, then hid my sword under the bed and threw a white sheet over the dummy.

"Come in," I called, and was surprised to see my mom open the door. Her eyes widened when she saw me and then a frown crossed her face.

"Emma! You said you would be out there thirty minutes ago, everyone is wondering where you are!" she scolded me, then eyed the crumpled dress near the foot of my bed. "You're not even dressed yet! Come on, let's get you ready."

She turned her detail-oriented eyes over to the sheet covering the practice dummy. "What's under there?" She started towards it but I held out a hand before she could pull the cloth away.

"I'm sewing a dress, so I needed a mannequin. It's not finished yet. I want it to be a surprise," I lied easily.

Mom seemed to believe it because she turned away and walked over to the crumpled dress, picking it up and smoothing out the wrinkles. I let out a sigh as I discreetly closed my book and shoved it under the quilts at the foot of my bed. When mom reached me she pulled the dress over my head then turned me around to lace it up. I felt the expensive fabric pull itself taunt around my bodice and let out a sigh.

"I don't feel like going out there and dancing with all those men," I said as she finished lacing my dress. I felt a hand on my shoulder, turning me back around.

"Emma, your father and I just want you to find what we have—True Love."

I didn't say it, but what I thought was, If it even exists, then I've already found and lost it. I thought back to Neal Cassidy, the man I met a few weeks after I turned sixteen. He'd robbed the stagecoach me and my parents had been traveling in. The moment our eyes met I felt something deep in the pit of my stomach, and even as he stole all the valuables we were carrying with us, I didn't feel like I was in any danger. Before he left he sent me a wink and I could feel the smile that bloomed across my face as he rode away. Later that week he climbed the wall outside my balcony, claiming he wanted to see me again. I fell in love fast, and after only a month I gave him the one thing a girl could never get back. He disappeared after that and I never saw him again. I never gathered the courage to tell my parents, either.

I thought Neal loved me, but apparently all he loved was robbing girls of their virtue. Though I couldn't cast all the blame onto him, because it was my fault too. I was young and stupid and thought I was in love, so I gave into him, and I paid the price. I knew one day, if I ever married, the man would find out I wasn't exactly the pure princess everyone thought I was, but I would cross that bridge when I came to it. But instead of telling mom all that, I found myself saying, "And if I find it, I'll find it in my own time."

Mom stood there for a few moments, just studying me before walking over to my wardrobe and pulling out a pair of golden colored shoes to go with the dress. I slid my feet into them and decided not to mention how they pinched my feet. When mom offered me her arm I took it and led us down the corridor to the ballroom. As we reached the double doors a guard moved from his post to open them for us.

Mom turned to me and gave me an encouraging smile, but all I could think about was what laid in store for me inside. Instead of walking into a room of men who wished to court me—a dream come true for most women my age—I felt like I was being fed to a den full of hungry lions waiting to devour me. I could just imagine the men inside as lions tensing up, claws drawn and ready to pounce on their prey—and what a rare prize I was, a princess who was not yet married. I let out an annoyed sigh as the door swung open and I stepped into the lion's den.

As soon as we stepped through the door nearly every eye in the room turned to watch us. I felt unnerved under their penetrating gazes, but held my head high as mom led me across the floor and up to the thrones. As soon as I sat down in the throne next to my dad they began returning to their own business and mom gave me a nudge as her eyes flicked towards the crowd.

Might as well get it over with. I stood up and began walking through the crowd, greeting all the guests and socializing with all the noblemen.

"Might I have a dance, Your Majesty?" one nobleman asked, holding out his hand. I opened my mouth to reply, but something—or rather, someone—over his shoulder caught my attention.

A man in a black overcoat and red vest walked in through the open castle doors. He looked around the room as he tugged at his vest with one hand, as if he were uncomfortable in the clothes he was wearing. I smirked to myself. At least someone else felt as uncomfortable as I did in my own clothes. What I wouldn't give to be wearing my riding pants, loose white shirt, and boots.

My eyes followed the stranger as he walked over to the refreshments table and picked up a glass of red wine. He was handsome, I'd give him that. He was a few inches taller than me, but at 5'5 I wasn't exactly short. He ran a hand along his jaw and then as he turned his eyes and mine met.

As our gazes locked he shot me a roguish smirk and wink. No noblemen had ever done that before. As we stood there staring at each other I felt a sense of danger and excitement fill my body. This man wasn't like the other men here, I could sense it.

I just couldn't tell if it was a good or bad thing.

There will be two more chapters to this. :)