Emma's feet pounded against the ground, kicking up stones and dirt as they kept in rhythm with her heartbeat.
Stupid! How had that happened. She was seen, and not just by anyone.
She skidded to a halt in front of the stone wall. Two Guards stood on duty at the gate. Both tensed at the sight of her, their hands on the hilts of their swords. There was a cold moment when they took in her sodden breeches and shirt. Her was wet and splattered with mud. Then was a second when Emma was frightened they didn't recognise her, but then the taller of the two relaxed. "Princess Emma..." His voice was heavy with frustration and disapproval, He seemed to be trying to remind her that she was indeed royalty and should act like it.
Usually she would have spoken sharply for him to be silent, but she was and tired, dirty and a little frightened. Though she tried not to let it show. "Graham, let me pass."
He obeyed, though he muttered to her as she strutted past. "Shouldn't you be at a ball or something?"
She ignored him. Because he was right, she should already be primped and powdered. Ready to let all the foreign princes and lords inspect her like she was cattle. There was only one man she was interested in. She was terribly afraid he would no longer want her.
Two of Emma's sisters were married... Well, not really Regina, but Emma suspected an engagement would be announced any day now.
Belle had wedded three years ago, to a man who was not entirely in her parents good books. But in the end, they understood why she did such a thing. It was similar to what had happened to them in their younger years.
That left Aurora and Emma.
She had denied she had felt anything for a particular suitor, but would have been stupid to think nobody saw through her pretence. Her suitor as in, prince Philip. They had been friends for some long years and he had been Emma's childhood companion when snow failed at getting her to play with her sisters.
Emma had begun to develop feeling and she was sure he returned them. But after today... he had hardly seen her for three years and was expecting a proper lady. She was meant to grow out of her rule breaking and pants. Obviously she hadn't. Emma had decided because Philip would not be arriving until the next day, to let out a little of her pent up energy by going for a swim in the sea.
She wasn't expecting him to arrive early...
The little boat had rocked in the choppy waves and Emma had tried to stay hidden underwater. But she was tired, and it took effort to keep herself from bubbling to the surface. It hadn't helped to have her pale skin and hair almost glowing in the moonlight.
Anyone else could have mistaken her for a sea creature, a mermaid perhaps... but not Philip, oh no, the moment he saw her a little frown appeared above blue eyes. "Emm-?"
He was cut when Emma dove under, swimming away as fast as she could. Blue grey flashes as fish flitted away from the newcomer. Please don't let him follow me! she screamed silently to herself.
Only roaring silence answered her.
Emma's foot slipped and she almost fell backwards off the stairs. She was saved from this painfully embarrassing fate by Aurora.
"Emma!" Aurora scolded her sister. "You should be ready for the ball!"
Emma looked down and her pants and under shirt. They were soaked and covered with mud and sand. Not to mention her hair. She looked Aurora pleadingly. "Philip's here, he came early."
Aurora looked at Emma's face then at her sodden clothing "Lets go."
After some quick changing and a rather painful combing of her hair, Aurora persuaded her to wear perfumed oils to hide the smell of the ocean. Even Emma had to agree that it was for the best, her parents would know exactly where she had been. Not to mention all of the guests and court.
"Emma don't run!" Whispered Aurora fiercely. Emma had been taking the stairs two at a time, perhaps trying to make up for the lateness she was arriving. "You will get all red and puffed."
Emma halted, grumbling as she waited for her sister to catch up with her, she seemed to have the pace of an old lady.
Aurora linked arms with Emma, and they both automatically put on wide smiles, one of which looked more alike to a grimace. A lot of Charming and Snow's potential husbands for Emma were either twice her age or younger.
This was going to be a hell of a night.
The noise in the crowded room hushed when they entered, all eyes were on the two princesses late for their own ball.
The room was glowing with candlelight, the long white tables laden with desserts, making Emma realise how much trouble she really was in...
But still, she was hungry,
Just as she was making her escape to the sugary items of food, she heard Charming approaching close behind. It was a familiar clinking of metal studded boots.
"Yeah, yeah. I know. I should dedicate myself to arrive on time, and maybe you should write it on my face help me remember." She rolled her eyes as she said it, not caring who saw this unladylike expression. The second bit of the sentence was inspired by Regina's joking about it.
"Uh right, I'll just go then."
He wasn't charming.
It was Philip.
And a man with a curved silver hook for a hand.
"I must say, mate. I like your choice of ladies."
Philip turned turned a shade of maroon, looking highly uncomfortable at his friends remark. Emma was sure she wasn't that much better.
"Hook, please. Not now...?" There was something in his tone that made the man with the hook's grin slide off his face."Very well... I have better things to do with my time anyway." He turned on his heel.
"Emma, could we speak privately?" Philip's full attention was now on her. She felt herself blush even more, hell, if that was possible. The funny thing was, it wasn't because of anything romantic, but she now felt sure she still had mud in her hair. Or worse. "Yes, of course."
Bad move, now he was free to question her about her little escapade to the seaside. She took Philips offered arm, glancing back over her shoulder to see Charming shooting dangerous glares over to where "Hook" was drinking something suspicious out of a flask. Was that the better things that he had to do? Obviously not. How great, Philip had brought a drunk to her ball.
"This way. Emma." Philip guided her towards the garden. The flush of happiness she felt when he said her name for the second time that night was drowned out by her annoyance. He was trying to be the gentleman and take the lead. In her own home!
"I know." She snapped, releasing his arm. "I have lived here all my life." So had he, but that was not going to be mentioned aloud by her.
"I'm sorry." He sat down on the stone seat by the fountain. "I... I am nervous, because of what I am about to confess to you." There was a short silence, and Emma stood stock still, watching as Philip carefully plucked a rose. He rolled the stalk between his fingers for a moment, contemplating what to say."Will you sit by me?" She did. And he offered her the rose.
Suddenly, Emma missed the time when they were the best of friends, when they could run and dive, taunting the guards and breaking the rules. When trivial things like love and marriage didn't matter.
"We were always close." He began, giving Emma a fright. It was almost like he read her thoughts. "But never as much as we are now..."
She highly doubted that, but she managed to hold her tongue.
He coughed uncomfortably, as if sensing her conflicting emotions. "I was never the one for words. That was always Hook... What I mean to say is - what I want to know, Emma, is... Do I have a chance with you? Please don't give me false hope."
"Yes." She said softly, without hesitation. "You do." She had never doubted it. Not for one moment.
He brought her hand to his lips, and kissed it, sending warm tingles shooting up her arm. A slow wide smile was spreading across his face. "Then dance with me."
"If that's what you want, then I will. With pleasure." There was a high note in her voice that had never been there before. It must have been that kiss, making her turn into one of those lovesick fools she always found excruciatingly embarrassing.
Emma managed a lot more dancing than she had thought was possible for a healthy human being, and enjoyed every last one, though she tried not to let it show too much. She caught her fathers eye in a space when she was resting, and he gave her an approving nod. Perhaps he thought she was putting up with the more tedious parts of the night to be a good daughter. It was close enough, so she would go with it. Anything to distract him from the glances Philip and herself had exchanged.
Somehow, letting him know about the conversation that had taken place earlier didn't seem right.
"Tired?"
It was Hook. If she had to call him that, she had no other name to go by. Funny that Philip didn't introduce them.
"Only a little..." She leaned back against the table, watching Philip dance with Aurora. There was a tingle of jealousy, and then, quick as it had come, she shook her head, clearing it."So," She turned to face Hook, perhaps vying for a distraction from that strange feeling. "How do you know Philip?"
He was frowning, but Emma thought she detected amusement in his voice. "Why, am I not surprised that the subject of conversation revolves around your love?"
"My love!" She coughed on the water she had been attempting to down. "What do you mean?"
"There is no need to call me your love, your majesty" He gave her a dramatic bow. "I already have had enough pretty ladies saying that tonight to last me a lifetime."
She scowled. Not caring that it would give her lines. "Bastard."
He grinned.
She was beginning to wonder if it would seem all that unladylike to wipe his face clean with her fist.
Aurora and Philip came to the rescue.
"Perhaps we should go to bed now," Aurora said to Emma as Hook and Philip began a conversation that seemed strangely dull and irrelevant.
Emma suspected that Hook had purposely done it to annoy her.
"Yes," She put her glass down. "Lets excuse ourselves from these last dances, and go early." Funny that she wasn't in the least bit tired, and would likely lie awake for the last precious hours till sun-up. Her mind was buzzing, and she needed to take all of it in.
"Goodnight gentlemen."
She was wrong about not sleeping. It seemed that she was unconscious the moment her head touched her pillow.
That same night she woke with one thought in her head. It seemed very important, like it had been nagging at the back of her mind for hours, but she hadn't realized it.
I have never liked roses.
A/N We hope you liked it! We will try to make the chapters longer, but this one was written on a phone way past bed time... MY favourite way;) Please don't forget to leave a review.