I uploaded this from my Tumblr at the request of a very kind anon. It's a Lieutenant Duckling story that I've been writing on my Tumblr since November. The story starts when Emma is 16. I'm bad at descriptions. Enjoy.
"If we get caught I'm done for. I'm fairly certain my father will kill you."
The young Prince chuckled as he brought the amber bottle to his lips. He took a quick swig before offering the drink to Emma. She had never drunk alcohol. Her mother rigidly opposed it, more than likely the reason being she was barely 16. "Yes, I'm sure you're right. But I believe it's worth taking the risk." He tilted his head and gently shook the bottle. Emma tried, and subsequently failed to repress a giggle.
"Sure, why not." Kissing caution to the wind she wrapped her fingers around the cool glass neck and puckered it up to her lips. The Princess briefly paused when she caught Philip's goofy smile in the corner of her eye. It's stuff like this that had my parents order a ship from the royal navy to escort me home from King Stefan's soiree, she mused as the amber liquid burned down her throat. Emma coughed from the foreign taste. "Good Gods, you like this stuff? How can anyone want to drink this?" He shrugged his shoulders before taking the bottle back. "It grows on you."
Philip had asked Emma to follow him below deck to where the Jewel of the Realm stored its cargo. It was a considerably dark room. The faint flicker of a candle was the solitary light between them. Emma detested how the musty air of the room was making her lungs sting. They had already started to ache for the familiar sea breeze.
The Prince raised the bottle to his lips and lingered a moment. "I'm glad you joined me for good company, Emma." She shivered at his words. Thank the Gods for this shadowy room, because if he could see her face she'd want to cast herself overboard. His eyes settled on her. Say something, Emma. Anything. "Me too." She stammered out.
Being alone in a dark room with the boy she was sure she liked felt utterly embarrassing. It really wasn't exciting or anything like she'd imagined it to feel. The countless romance novels she had read never mentioned feeling awkward.
"So what did you do?" Emma blinked at the question. Philip handed her back the bottle, and she took another short sip. "What do you mean?" She asked. The Prince moved his hand towards the ceiling and lazily glanced up. "Why the constant need of an escort?"
"Oh." She nervously smiled. "That- here's the thing, I'm not exactly the most behaved Princess." She air quoted the word with her fingers. He chuckled softly nodding in agreement. "On top of that, there are threats from King George, and my grandmother, uh, the Evil Queen." Philip hummed as he contemplated what she said. "If it's not the navy it's the castle guards. I'm never alone. King Stefan's kingdom was easiest to get to by ship so-"
Emma fiddled with a lock of her hair. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. Was it the alcohol? Did alcohol do that? It was far too dark, but she swore she saw him move closer. Did he? Everything felt warm and fuzzy and tingly and pink. Yes, pink. How can you feel pink, Emma? His arm brushed against hers, and she twitched. He was close, really close now, and she couldn't shake the heavy sensation she felt in her stomach. Was he leaning toward her face? Did he aspire to kiss her? She'd never kissed anyone before. Is that what she wanted to happen?
"Can I have that?" She apprehensively pointed towards the bottle. Philip smirked and shook it. "It's empty." Emma inhaled sharply. "Oh." The Prince arched an eyebrow high in amusement. Emma was completely flustered. "Are you alright?" He asked.
"Fine." She shrugged her shoulders. "But uh, well, my cheeks burn." Philip threw back his head and rolled with laughter. Her lips thinned; Emma felt like an idiot. She hated feeling like an idiot. Scrunching her nose she shoved him. He lifted his hands playfully signaling for her that he'd stop."What's so funny?" White hot light emanated from the depths of her narrowed eyes. Philip whistled before running his fingers through his chestnut hair. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't laugh at you. It's just that- well, it was adorable." Her breath hitched in her throat. "You're adorable, Emma."
Slowly his hand moved to her arm; he lightly dragged his fingers over her skin. It sent little shockwaves as he traced downward. Emma's breath was stagnant. What was he doing? Why was he touching her that way, and why did she feel so weird about it? His hand came to rest on her knee, and she abruptly bent back. He clasped at the thin fabric of her dress using it to draw her closer. Suddenly she craved distance. Her brain warned that if she didn't get it she was in for something -a kiss- she was not really willing or ready to have.
"Don't." There was urgency in her voice. He blinked before a look of dread washed over his features. "Emma, I'm sorry. Forgive me. I shouldn't-"
The Prince paused as the door creaked open and a gust of fresh air swept through the dank space. Trickles of faint light pushed through the darkness from the entryway. It briefly blinded her. Shielding her eyes with her forearm, she focused to see who'd found them. Oh no-
"Princess? Whatever are you-" He went silent once he noticed the Prince next to her. A peculiar emotion flashed briefly in his eyes, but it was far too dark for her to catch what it was. Emma's mouth gaped open; she couldn't muster any kind of sound. Of course, it had to be HIM who discovered her. His eyes traveled from Philip, to his hand on Emma's knee, and then back to the Prince's face. Stomping forward he reached for the hilt of his sword. "What the bloody hell is this?"
"Lieutenant-" Emma caught the trail of his eyes and gasped as she realized that Philip's hand was still on her knee. "Oh Gods!" She promptly threw it off and scooted back till her head smacked against something solid. She winced before clutching the bridge of her nose and pinching it hard. The dull ache from the back of her head throbbed. She could hear Philip's strained voice attempting to explain that they were only drinking. "Nothing happened!" Philip clearly had no idea whom he was speaking with. Emma groaned. She could already imagine her father wringing his hands around Philip's neck.
"Your Highness," the lieutenant's voice was rigid. She cautiously peered up to meet his blue eyes. She sucked in a breath and held it. "Get out!"
"Excuse me?" Philip jumped in front of the hot-headed navy officer. An overwhelming melody of emotions flooded his face. "That is your Princess you're talking to in such an improper way! Who the hell do you think you are?" The sailor mocked a bow. "Lieutenant Killian Jones, Your Highness. What a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I see that you are enjoying your journey so far."
The lieutenant pushed past the Prince and hovered above Emma with his arms folded. She waited for the lecture to come, but it didn't. His eyes drilled into her, and she absentmindedly tugged both her lips into her mouth. "Well?" He motioned his arm towards the door, and Emma scrunched her nose; she stood up. He followed closely behind as Emma stumbled her way toward the exit blowing out a wide breath.
Emma caught a glimpse of Philip who head was drooped down. Lieutenant Jones rolled on his heels to confront the Prince once Emma was out of the cargo hold. "You." He pointed. "We will deal with your discrepancy later." Emma dragged both her hands over her face and moaned as he pushed the ornamented door shut.
"What are you doing?" She hissed. "My job." He flatly replied as he escorted Emma down the narrow pathway. She frowned. "You just humiliated me!" Annoyance flashed across her face. She lifted her head to meet his gaze; tension stored between her shoulders as she balled her hands into fists. "Go away, Lieutenant! Are you really going to follow me back to my quarters?" Emma scowled. "Indeed." He formally replied. She sighed and rubbed her temples. Wonderful.