Not Mine. Not beta-ed. Part of a series.
Emma's hair flies behind her as she runs, her bag of things bumping almost painfully against her back. She has packed light, taking only what she needs for a short journey. She knows that she doesn't want to come back, ever. Her parents have her brother. There's an heir. She's not needed. At 18 years old, she knows that she is old enough to make her own choices and that's what she is going to do. Her parents don't know everything. They hadn't been fair and that's why she's heading for the docks. It's the only place that she knows she can get away, the only place that her parents had ever specifically prohibited her from going.
It isn't far from the castle, something that Snow had always dismayed over. She can still see the castle from the docks and she pulls her hood tighter around her blonde curls. Another thing that she hates, the curls that her mother had forced into her hair. Well, she supposes that isn't fair. Normally, she just can't say no to her mother. That's part of her problem, though. She has to get away, be free, away from her parents.
She knows that nobody can know that she is the princess. She knows that there's wanting to get away and then there's stupid. Her father had started teaching her how to sword-fight as soon as she was old enough to walk and her mother had started her on horseback riding and archery before that. Her parents weren't the type to restrict something without a good reason and they were the type to tell her what that reason was. She knows what the men would do to her, knows just the type of danger that she would be in.
At the moment, she doesn't care about the danger though. A little bit of danger is what she wants. It comes in the form of a man coming out of a dark alley, whistling a tune that she doesn't recognize. Emma gasps as they collide, feeling his fingers digging into her skin as his hands come out to hold her up. Her hood falls back as she falls, revealing the bright hair that she had tried so hard to keep hidden.
He observes her with an amused expression as she scrambles up and she lets out a squeak, desperately trying to make sure that every strand of hair is tucked back into her hood. "I'm sorry," she says softly, still panting from running and now pure adrenaline. "I wasn't watching where I was going."
"Obviously," the man says, his voice rough and she takes a step back, momentarily unnerved. Emma has been around many people in the castle and has sneaked places that she probably never should have but nobody she's ever met has had a voice like his. "You'd best keep that hood around your curls if just my voice can frighten you, love."
With that, the man moves aside, obviously intending to let her pass but she doesn't, too intrigued by him. "You're a pirate."
The man's lips curl into a smirk at the same time that his hand comes up. For just a moment she thinks that he's going to slap her then she sees what he's displaying. Her gasp is involuntary and she covers her mouth, looking at the hook where his hand should be. It shines in the dim light from one of the taverns as he twists it and she sees that his gaze on the hook is almost admiring. "I must not be known well enough around these parts. The name's Captain Hook, love. At your service."
"You're a captain?" Emma turns these words into a question, a plan already beginning to form in her mind. It's ridiculous, crazy, wild and suddenly she knows that she wants to do it more than anything she's ever wanted before.
He raises an eyebrow and she knows that he's still observing her. "I did just say that, darling. Are my good looks overpowering your hearing?"
Emma pretends that she doesn't hear what she considers an insult, starting to grin. "Take me aboard with you."
"Excuse me?" The man can't hide his shock for a moment and she's glad that he didn't say no right away.
"I want adventure," she says, looking over the water, wondering which boat is his. She hopes it's a big one, fast, maybe one with cannons. More and more thoughts are running through her mind and she sees a picture of herself standing on deck, looking out at the water. "Take me with you. Wherever you're going. I'd like to go."
Clearing his throat, the man shakes himself slightly, looking suddenly bored with the conversation. That's not the way that she wants him to look. He has to agree to this! "We're not taking passengers, love, as much as I'd like one with your body."
Emma can't stop the blush and she hopes that he doesn't see. She doesn't want to give him any excuse to say no to taking her on board. She looks up at him, defiance clear in her eyes. "I have the money to pay you for passage."
"You don't understand, princess," he says and she jolts at the name before realizing that it's just another pet name similar to love. He doesn't know that she's the princess and, for that, she is thankful. She doesn't want to think about what he'd do with the knowledge of her being a princess. He'd probably hold her for ransom, being a pirate and all. "We're not taking passengers."
"I can pay you whatever you wish," Emma says, her voice not shaking at all and he tilts his head, looking deeper into her eyes. She tries desperately hard not to blink, not to look away and he recognizes how hard it is for her.
Killian sighs after a few long moments, looking around and then beckoning for Smee to come forward when he sees him, looking at the man meaningfully when he does. "We'll be having a passenger on board for the journey," he says, looking at Smee, knowing that Smee knows just the kind of perils that bringing the woman aboard could bring. Superstitions were nothing compared to men who couldn't keep their hands to themselves. "I didn't catch your name, love."
"My name is Emma…" she hesitates and Killian crooks an eyebrow, knowing by the look on her face that whatever last name that she comes up with won't be her real one. He doesn't press her though, not caring enough and if she's thinking that hard to come up with a lie then she obviously has a good reason and as long as she pays him then he doesn't care what that reason is. "Swan. Like the ones in the lake at my… home."
Letting out a cough to disguise his laugh, Killian nods. The girl is one of the worst liars that he's seen in a while and he makes a living by picking out bad liars. "Do you have any bags, Miss Swan or is that all you brought?"
"This is it," Emma says, suddenly cheerful and he resists the urge to roll his eyes, wondering just how old she is. He's about to ask before he realizes that it's none of his business and he shouldn't care anyway. She has a childlike innocence that he recognizes immediately and there's something else. There's a thirst for adventure that jogs a memory that is so far in his past he doesn't remember details about the experience.
"Prepare your cabin for Miss Swan, Smee." He doesn't bother to lower his voice as he looks over at his first mate, loyal to the core. Emma should know what she is getting into. As he looks at Smee, he knows that Smee recognizes why he is bringing her on board. He won't even admit it to himself at that moment just how much she reminds him of the one whose name is tattooed on his wrist, the one that he's spent years trying to avenge. "Move into the one next to hers so that she's protected. Let the crew know that she is under my protection and if any of them touch her they will have far worse than a hook for a hand. Miss Swan, you will make sure that you have either me or Smee in sight at all times. The crew is hand-picked and well-trained but… we'll be at sea a very long time."
He sees her shiver and try valiantly to hide it and he wonders if she's going to back down. If she does then he knows that she's not cut out for life on his ship. Instead, she straightens her spine, her chin lifting and, as young as she is, she manages to look condescendingly at him. "Show me to my cabin, if you please. I'd like to unpack."
Killian covers his mouth because this time he can't hide his laugh. Emma spares him a glance but Killian waves his hand and Smee shows Emma to her cabin. Killian has a feeling that this voyage will be his favorite in a long while.