Hey guys! So I've been working on this for a little bit and I figured I'd go ahead and post the first chapter and see what people think. While I've been playing with writing Captain Swan for quite some time, this is only my second or third attempt at Lieutenant Duckling, and it's the first full length, multichapter fic I've tried. Regina is mentioned, but for story purposes, I'm pretending that maybe Bae and Rumple are living happily somewhere, with Milah, or whatever, but Rumplestiltskin will not be in the story. Also, not sure if there is certain qualifications for LD, but I think this goes outside of them a little.
Running away doesn't actually ever solve anything, but it never stops Emma Nolan from doing it.
It's only five minutes, she always tells herself, but as soon as the air outside of the secluded castle touches her skin, she knows it will be much longer before she comes back. There is always something she's neglecting when she runs, a duty that needs to be fulfilled that she puts off for another day. As time goes on, she finds that she cares less and less.
She's barely nineteen years of age, after all, and her parents can still handle everything themselves. All she wants to do is get away from the stress of learning to rule a kingdom, no matter how fleeting the time may be. So, she grabs one of the few dresses she owns that doesn't scream "I am a royal" to every passerby and slips out the back door (She long ago made friends with a guard who looks the other way), a sigh escaping her as soon as she is no longer trapped within the palace walls. The structure stands much too tall, a cage designed to trick those inside into believing that it is nothing of the sort. There are hallways with enough twists and turns (and twists and turns and twists and turns) to make one think they will never escape.
Emma always finds a way.
She has to.
Deciding where to go once she's out never seems to be an issue. She just lets her feet roam whatever direction they may be taking her for the day, without questioning their path. Some days she'll simply travel around the forest near her home, just far enough away that she doesn't actually see it. Her hands will run over the bark of the trees as she walks, and sometimes she'll settle down with her back to one of the larger ones, resting her head against the wood and just breathing. Other days, she'll go farther - into the town where she can lose herself in the masses of people or to the shore, where the sea always seems tantalizing, calling to her though she has never touched farther than where the water crashes onto the sand.
Her adventures are never permanent, of course. She always finds her way back to where she knows she should be, with the same irritations and problems waiting for her. It isn't as if she doesn't expect it. Emma is very well aware that nothing is fixed by her taking off whenever she pleases.
Even so, there isn't a single part of her that ever wants to stop.
Emma rolls her eyes as she walks out the door, barely able to hear her mother calling for her. She can just see the queen now, her head in her hands as her husband comforts her. What are they to do with their wayward daughter who does not handle her responsibilities seriously? How are they to reign in her wild streak before it becomes an irreversible problem? Will she ever be ready to rule over an entire kingdom?
Please. It's not as if they are going anywhere and the kingdom has rarely seen issues since Regina, her mother's stepmother and the land's resident sorceress, had been locked up where she could no longer do harm.
The air is calming, as usual, and Emma breathes a sigh of relief as her body relaxes, all worries of her mother and father disappearing with a soft brush of the wind. Her parents are famous throughout the land, their ability to rule seamlessly almost as well known as their incredible story. Finding True Love always comes with hype, as rare as it seems to be. Her parents always tell her that one day, she'll find hers, too.
"And once you find it, it can never be replaced," her father always says, her mother nodding fervently in agreement as she smiles at her husband.
She ignores their looks of despair (Or is it disappointment? Or both?) when she never takes their words earnestly. It's much easier that way, to pretend that she does not see their reactions. It at least helps her to sleep better at night, acting as if she isn't breaking their hearts with her disbelief.
It isn't their love she doubts, of course. The chance of her discovering her own is what she finds difficult to have confidence in.
The sea calls to her today, and she finds herself at the docks, her eyes casually scanning the people bustling about there. A few she recognizes - locals that she often sees throughout the kingdom. Others are visitors, simply passing through on their way to wherever it is they are going.
Emma aches to know where they go and where they have been. She longs to see the places that the ships sitting in the harbor have touched.
With a practiced stealth that she's gained over the years, she easily avoids those who may recognize her face as she makes her way closer to where the ships are anchored. One stands tall above the rest, the sails wide as if filled with pride, and Emma knows it has seen more wonders than she can ever imagine.
It is not that she is unhappy where she is. At the end of the day, she does love her parents and the land that they call their own. One day, she will take up her role as queen. When the time comes, she'll accept the responsibility given to her and do her best to take care of the kingdom that she was born and raised in. However, she doesn't see that day as being something in the near future.
Part of her hates that she craves to see more, to know more than she's been taught here. There is so much that she does not understand, so many places she has never been, so much that she has never seen.
Sometimes she feels terrible that she thinks this way, and it usually takes a lot of convincing before she can tell herself that her craving for more is not ungratefulness, but even then sometimes she still feels regret nestled deep in her heart.
One day, she swears she'll make it all up to them.
She just wishes for a little adventure, something that will keep her up at night thinking about it. She longs for a feat that makes her heart race and her blood run hot. Her entire being wants to explore and be free, even if that means that her life becomes a little absurd.
Part of her desires that, too.
Most days, it even feels normal. Shouldn't all people go through a time like that in their lives?
Taking a deep inhale of the saltiness in the breeze, Emma smiles, closing her eyes for only the briefest of moments. The air moves around her and blows her long hair around her face, a sigh of content escaping her. Upon reopening, her eyes trail over to where a young girl walks with her mother, not a single care to burden them. When she glances back at the ship that had captured her attention earlier, her eyes catch something else that demands notice.
It's a man, boarding the vessel with a subtle confidence in his shoulders that she just can recognize from where she stands. His dark hair is blowing about in the wind, and even with the distance between them, Emma is captivated by the unmistakable blue of his eyes. She thinks that no amount of distance could hide their beauty.
The uniform he wears is most certainly that of the navy, but not of the land where he is docked. He must be from somewhere else, Emma deducts, tilting her head and watching as he bustles about on board the ship, disappearing below deck every minute or so, making sure everything is prepped and ready to set sail.
She can't help but wonder where it is he's going and where he came from.
Finally, the man puts his hands on the railing of the ship, glancing out at the shore. His eyes find hers, and though warmth creeps up her neck and into her cheeks, she cannot look away from the depth of his expression. Another man approaches him, looking far too much like the first man not to be his brother. Older, Emma guesses as the first blue eyed stranger smiles at the new gentleman, pointing to various parts of the ship as he speaks.
The man's older brother nods and caps his younger sibling on the shoulder, beaming with pride that is well accepted. Emma can't help the smile that pulls up her lips at the picture, and when the two men begin to walk away from the edge of the vessel facing her, the one she'd first noticed takes a glance back at her. The corners of his lips tug up slightly as he looks at her, and her heart jumps, beating erratically until he finally turns his attention back to his brother.
Something pulls in Emma's chest so strongly that it almost is painful, but she sighs as the ship starts to pull away from the harbor. She lets herself watch it go, her stomach twisting as it does, before beginning her trek back home.
She assumes she'll never see the mysterious man who so intensely fascinated her again.
"I'm sorry," Emma whispers into thick air, struggling to take in a breath. She loathes confrontations like this, knowing they never end well. "I don't want to disappoint you. I just... I do not know if I'm ready for... all of this yet."
"Emma, you're nineteen-"
"So?" Emma interrupts her father, and though he seems taken back, he does not stop her now. "That is not very old, father. I do what I must, but I... I am not quite ready to rule over an entire kingdom. You and mother are still doing well and I do not see why I need as much responsibility as you try to give me."
There's a silence that stretches, every second of it feeling like ages passing. Please understand, her mind pleads as she tries to keep her composure. "I suppose I can understand where you are coming from." Snow puts her head in her hand, kneading her temples as her husband speaks. "However, you must understand that one day, this land will be yours to protect and govern. Your mother and I are only attempting to make the transition less drastic."
A piece of Emma's resolve gives way and she sighs, walking over to her parents to press kisses to both of their cheeks. "I appreciate your efforts, but I believe that it should be at least partially my decision the rate at which I take up power in the kingdom. At the moment, I feel as if you are trying to grant more than I can handle. I will take up the throne when the time comes, and I will do everything I must, but I do believe that time is near yet."
Another pause, and then, as if attached to the same strings, her parents nod simultaneously. Emma knows that they are still upset, but for now, their understanding is enough.
Even so, ten minutes later, the road is beneath her feet, leaves scattering across the dirt as a result of autumn weather. A few crunch under her feet and she smiles at the sound, looking up as she inhales deeply. Trees form a roof above her that feels much more free than the confines of the castle's top, which is as tall but not nearly as open.
She finds herself near the docks at the end of her journey, breathing in saltwater tinged air and wishing she had the strength to climb on one of the boats in the distance and run away for good. She knows she cannot do that, however, and so she settles for letting her eyes scan the ships and people, making up stories in her head for each group she sees. In the midst of playing her little game with herself, something catches her eye in one of the bars as she passes by. Her heart jumps into her throat as she recognizes the figure that she's seen many times in dreams, both at night and during the day.
His dark hair is a bit longer now, about two months worth of growing making her wonder how it would feel to run her fingers through the locks. His brother sits beside him, and Emma finds herself leaning against one of the railings outside, watching his movements.
His brother offers him a sip of a brown colored beverage, and with one sip the lieutenant's face pinches up and he coughs. It makes Emma laugh to see that he's not accustomed to the burn of alcohol. She's barely drank herself, only being able to do so at grand dinners where it is served to nearly everyone, so she understands.
Her curiosity almost gets the better of her and she nearly takes a step into the doors, but then she sees a good friend of her father's stand to leave and she runs to the side of the building, staying there until she's sure he has passed.
A few moments later, the man she was watching exits, laughing and walking just a bit sloppily. She assumes his brother must have gotten a little more into him after she walked away. His brother wraps an arm around him and supports some of his weight, looking as though he would rather lose his own life than let his brother fall.
(She thinks he says "Let's go get you some rest, aye brother?")
As they walk away, Emma observes them, her interest peaking when the man smiles, the expression lighting up his features. He's striking, from the dazzling blue of his eyes (Is that even a real color?) to the defined jaw line that leads to a softer chin (She wants to run her thumb over it to see how it would feel beneath her fingertip), just below his lips that practically begged to be kissed. Emma wonders if he has been kissed too much, or just enough, or an inadequate amount. She aches to know what it would be like to kiss him, to be held close by those arms that look so strong (but not too strong, either). Her experience is limited to a few stolen kisses throughout the years, none of them mattering much as she looks back on them. This man is older, and it makes her curious to know if his lips would taste as sweet as they look.
Her heart beats loudly in her chest as he climbs onto his ship, and there's a small part of her that wonders if the organ would chant his name if she knew what it was.
It turns into a game that Emma loves to play, sneaking away on random days and hoping that she'll see her mysterious Lieutenant's ship by the shore. She recognizes it by heart now and knows if it's there as soon as she sees the docks. Some days he's there and she watches him from afar, memorizing how he laughs, how he smiles when his brother compliments him. She learns his brother's name - Liam - but his remains unknown to her, no matter how closely she listens for it to be spoken.
There are days when she does not see the vessel anchored there, and she swears her heart drops so low in her stomach that it will never return to its original position. It never stops her from taking in the sea, her love for it only growing every time she visits. Each trip, she lets her eyes scan the horizon and wonder how far away it is until the water once again touches land.
There are days she wishes she could find the nerve to talk to her evasive Lieutenant, wishes she had the braveness that her mother always portrays. She never gets too close, though, even though she wants to do so more than she wants anything. He fascinates her, with his deep expressions and open eyes. She wants to know his story, desires to know all the places he's been and all the wonders he's seen. Her entire being is immensely curious about him even though she has never spoken to him.
Her parents would say she is ridiculous if they knew, she's certain.
One day while she's watching, a little boy bumps into him while walking and the man leans down to eye level with the child, giving him a smile and a gentle warning to be careful before ruffling his hair and continuing on his way. It's endearing, far more so than Emma had expected, even though at the same time, she cannot find it in her to be immensely surprised. She recognizes the softness in this man, and though he's had an argument or two with his brother that she's seen, the lines in his face never grow too harsh.
She cannot quite comprehend how the feat is possible. Perhaps she just has not seen him at his worst.
He is a puzzle that she yearns to solve, and she wonders if knowing all the answers she longs for would quench the interest that she has for him.
Weeks go by, and every time she sees him it makes her blood run just a little faster. It always ends, however. Either he climbs back onto his ship and sails away, or she is forced to return home with the setting of the sun. When night falls and she's once again safely tucked into her extravagant bed, she stares up at the ceiling and thinks of where he may be, how long it will be until he finds himself back near her. She never quite understands how she can miss a man when she does not even know his name, but yet, each time he disappears from her view, he inhabits her thoughts consistently while she wishes and waits for the next time he returns.