"Really, my lady, you must sit still; it won't lace properly if you keep moving about."

Emma sighed and set her quill down obediently, drawing a somewhat exasperated huff from her lady in waiting as the strings of the corset were pulled tighter. The princess gasped as her ribs were crushed together, but didn't bother complaining; she couldn't very well fit into the latest fashion if she could breathe properly, and heavens forbid she was less dressed than those around her.

That didn't mean she had to like it, though.

"Are you done, Anastasia?"

"Almost…" another yank, another pained breath, and then her lady in waiting––a brown-eyed brunette with a face that seemed to always be frozen into a permanent mask of bafflement––stepped back. "There. That should be enough."

Emma rolled her eyes at nothing in particular and picked up her quill again, returning her focus to the parchments spread over her desk. Request of Transfer. Request of Hearing. Recruit Approval. Request of Resources. Request after request glared up at her insistently, begging for her signature and seal; not as many as last week, it was true, but enough to take up some time. Although, if given the choice, Emma would honestly have preferred a veritable mountain of paperwork over corsets and dresses and her lady in waiting's fussy fingers.

"My lady, you mustn't!" Anastasia exclaimed, pushing the quill straight out of Emma's hand. "You'll get ink on your lovely dress. The reception will begin in an hour; we can't ruin your clothing this close to the ball. Leave that until tomorrow; you've already taken care of the pressing matters. Everything else can wait for one more night."

"What does it matter if I get ink on this, though? If anyone sees my corset tonight I'll be having much bigger problems than a stain."

"It'll bleed through the moment we put the dress on you. Now up; this piece is going to look beautiful on you."

Emma spared one last longing look at her paperwork, then dropped her head in defeat and stood up from her desk. Anastasia cooed happily and set to work, pulling layer upon layer of satin over Emma's body and continuing to remark upon the fine quality of the cloth and lacings. A single glance would prove the woman right; the dress had been imported from… somewhere Emma couldn't remember, but she was certain it was far away and expensive, and it radiated wealth. The lace was meticulously crafted. The satin was close-woven and shimmering. There were pearls embedded in the collar that spilled over her chest in what was probably a beautiful pattern. Actually donning the thing, however, was exactly like every other dress Emma had ever donned; uncomfortable, time-consuming and probably not as important as Anastasia thought it was. She tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling as a way to endure the monotony, counting the stars that were lain in the stone. They were made to amuse a child's eye, but well-made enough to make an adult less painfully bored. Yes, it was a bit odd that a full-grown princess still lived in her childhood nursery, but being a princess came along with the perk that no one gave her trouble about it. And besides, it wasn't as if she was still living in a crib; the majority of her childhood furnishings had been removed long ago and traded for a bed more suitably sized to an adult, an end table and chairs near the hearth and a generous desk with enough space to house the work she needed to do on a daily basis. She liked the room, not just for its familiarity but also because it wasn't obnoxiously large; she had once tried to move into a room her parents thought was more appropriate for her, which had had so much empty space that Emma had feared she would get lost if she decided to walk around in the middle of the night. No, this room was perfectly suited for her tastes; luxurious but utilitarian, comfortable but not ostentatious. She had allowed herself a bed that was almost half the size of traditional royal sleeping arrangements, which was still quite large enough for three people to sleep pleasantly. All things considered, her bed was probably the most 'appropriately' royal thing she lived with, which admittedly wasn't saying much.

Emma's bored meanderings of the mind were interrupted by a sudden knock on the door, and she looked over to it hopefully.

"Princess?" The rough, familiar voice of Grumpy grated through the boards. "Are you in there, sister?"

"She's dressing!" Anastasia chided.

"What is it, Grumpy?" Emma called out. Anything would be more interesting than standing around, waiting for the dress to be finished.

"There's a situation in the guest quarters. We'd like to know what to do with it, since your father's making us keep everything quiet tonight."

"Oh no," growled Anastasia. "Not right now. She's almost done, and we can't stop halfway through. Tell him, my lady."

Emma sighed sadly and closed her eyes. "Is it a matter of life or death?"

"Not yet. Can't promise for how long, though."

"Can it wait for five more minutes?"

"... Yeah. Sure. But no more than that."

Anastasia let out a huff. "Are you absolutely determined to ruin your dress before the ball even begins, my lady?"

"Not if I get to the guest quarters soon enough to deal with this before it gets worse."

"Fine. But I won't take any blame from your parents if you show up disheveled."

"Noted."

Anastasia set herself back to work, lacing and tying and knotting and hooking one piece to another. It remained dreadfully tedious, especially now that Emma knew there was something definitely more interesting waiting for her once it was finished. It didn't take much actual time for the job to be completed, but it still felt like an eternity before Anastasia finally let out an admiring sigh and stepped back to survey her handiwork.

"There. You look stunning, Emma." She smiled fondly. "Let's take a look in the mirror, shall we?"

Emma turned and looked into the full-length mirror that was set against the wall. Anastasia had been right. At least, Emma certainly looked nice; the shape of the dress sharpened her curves and squared her shoulders, with a knotwork of pearls cascading from her collar over her chest and to one hip. It was well-made and definitely fashionable; even though Emma had never looked very good in the color white, it would impress those it needed to impress.

Another knock at the door. "Sister?"

Emma shot an determined look at Anastasia, swished her skirt experimentally, then made her way towards the door. "I'm coming, Grumpy."

He waited for her in the hall, stepping out of the way when she opened the door to join him.

"Nice dress."

"Thanks." Emma turned and led them down the hall, towards the guest quarters. "What's happened?"

"A thief," Grumpy replied. "He broke into the guest quarters and almost made off with half the candlesticks."

Emma gave him a sharp look. "I thought we had all entrances to the castle covered."

"So did we."

"How did he get in?"

"We don't know. Window?"

"How long have you been holding him?"

"Ten minutes, maybe? Came to you soon as we had him caught. He's in the dungeon."

Emma sent a mental curse towards Anastasia's need to take so long with dresses and changed their course. "We don't have any time to waste, then."

They ended up having less time than they thought; halfway to the dungeon, their trek was met by a sprinting, out-of-breath Sneezy.

"Sneezy!" Grumpy said, grabbing his brother's arm. "What's going on?"

"Thief––" sneeze, "––almost escaped––" sneeze, "––in the dungeon––" sneeze, "––unlocked the––" sneeze, "––cage."

Emma set off immediately instead of waiting for the dwarf to elaborate, hoisting up her skirts and doing as much of a run as she could, which didn't turn out to be nearly as quick as she would have liked. The hallways grew steadily more rough and dank as she made her way into the bowels of the palace, floor turning to simple wooden boards strewn with straw. When she finally burst through the dungeon door, she was met with a deafening tangle of fists and shouting; Doc, Bashful and two guards were struggling to restrain someone trapped between them, someone who was slippery and lean enough to almost wriggle free before being snatched back into the fray by stubborn hands over and over.

Emma sighed when she caught a glance of the thief's hair, a short, not-quite-blonde layer of fur over a long face and a decidedly dusty complexion. She knew better than to involve herself; there were four more guards standing by each of the possible exits, ready to grab the thief if he did manage to free himself. That eventuality was growing less and less likely by the second; the dwarves and guards were gaining the upper hand. In another minute, they had subdued him.

When the shouting died down, the guard standing by the door took the opportunity to announce Emma's arrival.

"Princess present!" he called out. "At attention!"

The room stiffened instantly; the guards at the exits straightened, straight ahead as if in perfect formation, and the clump in the middle of the room hoisted their prisoner to his feet and wheeled him to face Emma.

The thief grinned. "'Ello there, majesty."

Emma sighed. "Hey there, Scarlet. Care to share what you were doing bothering my guests at this hour?"

"Well, it's actually th'funniest thing. See, there's some taxes went missing from a poor little hamlet just on the outside of your borders, and, seein' as how they ain't got no strong people like you lookin' out for 'em…"

"... You just thought you'd do them a favor and get those taxes back?"

"Exactly! So you see, there's really no reason for all this. I'm a hero, see, just like you. S'all just one big misunderstandin'."

Emma hmmed skeptically, then turned to rake her gaze over the rest of the room. It was dimmer than she would have liked, although there wasn't much she could do about that; there were only a few lanterns embedded into the wall, and while daytime could send light streaming through the cell windows, the sun was almost down and could only produce a weak, dull yellow glow. It was a difficult light to track by, but not impossible; the straw on the floor was disturbed throughout the dungeon, telling tales of what had happened before her arrival. One cell in particular stood with its door wide open, and the straw had been kicked up viciously near the door.

Emma pointed to the open cell. "Is that where he was being held?"

One of the guards nodded. "Yes, your majesty."

"I won't ask for an apology," Scarlet said, brow furrowing. "Seein' as heroes forgive each other'n'all."

"Shut up!" Grumpy commanded.

Emma entered the open cell and went to examine the window. The dungeon was on the first level of the castle, and she could see the outline of ground and foliage beyond. She could also see a distressingly deep… was that a cut? Yes, someone had apparently managed to cut through one of the bars and halfway through a second, making a space that wasn't yet large enough for a person to slip through.

Turning to the thief and his captors, Emma gave a quick nod. "Keep him there. Don't let him move, and don't take your hands off of him. I'll be back." She turned to leave, but paused and shook her head when Grumpy made to follow her. "No, this is something I have to do by myself. I'm going alone, and if I need help I'll shout."

"Where you going, sister?"

"Out." That was the only explanation she gave before picking her skirts back up and making her way out of the dungeon. The servant's quarters and kitchens weren't far, and both would have doors to the exterior of the castle; taking the smaller hallways kept her relatively out of sight, save for the occasional maid or page that saw her, stopped and bowed until she had passed. Her journey was quick and soon saw her stepping into the open air.

The western horizon still had dashes of red and purple splattered on the skyline, but nighttime was quickly wrapping over the land like a veil. Shadows lengthened, stars twinkled from above and there was a soft shimmer in the east as the moon made ready to rise. The castle itself was bustling with activity; servants, both foreign and native, ran from one place to another to care for their masters' belongings and wealth and get it to where it needed to be. Torches glowed from every wall, turning the courtyards and green spaces into a patchwork of orange and black flickers that made the entire palace seem oddly shapeless, forging an endless sea of dapples and shades that tricked the eye into seeing things that were not there.

As it was, the area Emma had chosen was mostly used by those servants that actually lived in the castle, and who all had their hands full elsewhere. She could see others moving about in other, more well-lit areas, but she herself remained mostly out of sight.

Good. She needed to be unknown if she wanted to get to the bottom of Will Scarlet's thievery.

Emma made her way across the edge of the castle until she came to the dungeon exterior. The wall was almost completely blank save for the occasional gap filled with bars marking the locations of the cells. It took a moment for her to locate the damaged window, and a quick glance inside reassured her that their thief was still in captivity. Outside the window, however, was something Emma had suspected would be waiting for her: footprints paced just outside the half-missing bars, crouching here and there and then bracing against the wall.

Whoever damaged the bars hadn't been doing so from inside.

"I know you're out there!" Emma called into the darkness. "We have Will Scarlet. We're willing to negotiate, but you have to come out and talk! I've come alone. No tricks. Just talking."

A moment of silence, and then there was the rustle of cloth and leather as a dark cloaked figure emerged from the shadows, putting away the bow that had been cocked.

"My lady," the figure said. "Isn't it a bit early for you to be out and about? I had heard that you'd have other duties tonight."

"Yeah, well, I had to delay on account of a thief breaking in and bothering our guests."

The figure let out a weary sigh and took down his hood, revealing a square face, blonde hair and brow furrowed by many years of worry. "I apologize on his behalf. I'm certain he didn't mean to disturb your guests."

"I'm certain. But the Sheriff of Nottingham won't be arriving until tomorrow; there's only one thing he is ever on time for, and parties are not it."

The man grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know. Believe me, I know, and I had no idea that Will was coming here."

"Well, he's here now, and I've got a brand new hole in one of my cells to prove it."

"I'm sorry for that, too. But I need him out, and it seemed unlikely that you would simply release him after disturbing so many."

"There wasn't a disturbance. We've been keeping this quiet."

He tilted his head. "How many know?"

"Guards. Ours, not theirs. No one else yet, although the servants are probably already spreading the word."

The man opened his mouth, then closed it, hovering on the edge of words but not taking the leap to say them. Eventually, "I still need him back, my lady. I don't want to trouble you more than you already are, but I'm not leaving without him."

Emma sighed. "Look, we don't want him. We got what he stole and we can fix the window, and I don't want to spend more men than I have to guarding him. But this night is important. If I give him back to you, can you lay low for tonight? Please? I don't care what goes on tomorrow, but I'd really appreciate this night being as quiet as possible."

He chuckled. "Of course. That was meant to be the plan in the first place." He cast an irritated look at the cell window. "If you release him, I promise he will be kept under control."

Emma let out a breath of relief. "Thank you. He's still in the dungeon." She turned to leave, and he fell into step at her shoulder, feet absolutely silent even when they made their way into the castle and began to walk over wood. Emma couldn't help a bit of envy; how many balls would she be able to avoid with stealth like his?

They stopped halfway to the dungeon when a servant appeared at the other end of the hall, and her companion vanished until the servant had passed out of sight. When their environment was clear and no footsteps were approaching, he left his hiding place on the ceiling and returned to her side.

"Busy home you've got," he observed.

"It's a busy night."

"For more than you, it would seem."

They finished the journey in silence. Emma was immensely thankful when they opened the door to a relatively calm and non-violent room. It remained as she had left it, with guards at all exits and their captive in the middle.

"Princess present!" one of the guards shouted. "At attention!"

Everyone stiffened, and the guards stiffened even more when her companion followed her inside.

Grumpy was entirely unperturbed. "Hey, Robin."

Her companion nodded. "Grumpy."

"Hood!" Will exclaimed. "Where you been, mate? Listen, you mind explainin' t'these gentlemen that I wasn't stealin' nothin' wasn't stolen already?"

Emma nodded at the dwarves. "Let him free."

Will shook off their irritated hands and stood up, brushing the dust and straw from his jacket. "See? We're all friends here. S'just a big misunderstanding is all. Right, Robin?"

Robin Hood rolled his eyes and crossed the distance to Will, grabbing his arm. "Let's go. We've no business here tonight."

"But them taxes…"

"Go." The archer pushed his ward towards the door, pausing to throw a final apologetic glance over his shoulder. "This was a misunderstanding. He won't bother you anymore."

Emma gave him a weary smile. "Just keep him out of trouble for one night and we'll call it even."

Robin Hood nodded. "Fair enough. And, my lady?"

"Yes?"

"Happy birthday."

"Thanks."

The two men left, and the entire room breathed a collective sigh.

"Well," said Doc, taking off his glasses to clean them. "That wasn't as terrible as it could have been."

"What are you talking about?" Grumpy contested. "What was that? Why did we let him go? He stole from the party guests!" He shot a look at Emma. "Your party guests."

"We can't afford to move our guards more than absolutely necessary. I processed our last prisoner yesterday so we wouldn't have anyone to worry about anyone tonight."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean we can just let thieves go without consequences! What will Cinderella do when she finds out someone almost stole her glass slippers?"

"She won't find out," Emma said, shaking her head when Grumpy opened his mouth to debate her. "No. I'm in charge of the dungeon, and I say that what happened here was confidential. All the goods will be returned, and none of you are to breathe a word of this. Am I understood?"

The guards nodded obediently, followed by the dwarves and the somewhat reluctant Grumpy.

"Good. Now, if there's nothing else to discuss, I'm already late and my parents are going to hunt me down if I don't get up to that ball."

As always, opinions and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated!