This was supposed to be a drabble, but clearly these two have a mind of their own. Also, I always thought that if Emma and Pinocchio had grown up in the Fairytale Land, he'd end up being a Knight. And Eion Bailey in leather... nuff said.
Well, enjoy and let me know what you think! :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Wild One Running Free
Pinocchio is bored. When he had decided to enlist the Royal Guard, standing in front of a door for an entire afternoon hadn't been exactly what he expected. What is the point of all that training in close combat and sword fighting if all he's doing is keeping people from going into the castle?
King James assured him it is only temporary. After the Princess's eighteenth birthday, to be celebrated the next day in a pompous ball, Pinocchio will be part of her Personal Guard. The King has also told him that the Princess wasn't thrilled about that, and advised him to watch his back.
Rumor has it that the Princess is a wild, rebellious, disobedient soul, who does everything as she pleases and by her own rules. Pinocchio has never seen her. At first, the Royal Family had kept her safely hidden while the war against the Evil Queen was still raging. After the Evil Queen had been defeated, the Princess was allowed to leave the castle, but, as an act of rebellion, she'd never accompanied the King and the Queen to any of their public appearances.
For instance, on the day he had officially become a Knight, a couple of days previously, he had heard the King whisper to the Queen.
"Where is Emma?" he had asked.
"You know how she is," Queen Snow had answered in a murmur, to what the King reacted with a deep furrow between his brows.
However rare it is to even get a glimpse of the Princess, there are tales running across the entire Kingdom praising her unmatched beauty, and Pinocchio often wonders how much of that is true.
There's a slight movement to his left, then, and he scurries over there to find a person in a dark red cloak trying to escape the castle, carrying a bundle that appears to be full.
"Halt!" he yells, and the person stops. "Turn around."
"Or what?" He's thrown aback by the feminine voice.
"Or I'll catch you and bring you to the King to get a sentence for thieving."
The woman laughs out loud, very un-lady like and turns around to face him, lowering the hood of her cloak at the same time. The sight in front of him almost takes his breath away. She is a young woman – a girl, even – and she is the most beautiful he has ever laid his eyes on. Her lips are red and plump, her eyes are blue, almost piercing, her hair falls onto her back in blonde curls, and for a thief she has a somewhat graceful pose.
Pinocchio may have never seen the Princess, but it would be hard to top this woman's beauty.
"I'm not afraid of your threats, Knight," she proclaims in a low voice, while she approaches him.
"Well, you should be." His words leave his mouth much more gallantly than he intended. He's afraid, for a second, that he's offended her in some way, but she smiles at him, her eyes never leaving his.
"And why is that?" she asks in a way that seems as if she's courting him.
Pinocchio's experience with the opposite sex is close to none and he doesn't quite know how to react. His father has told him that the man courts the woman and not the opposite. Perhaps he should continue with the gallant words; she seemed to enjoy them before.
"Would you like to find out?"
Her smile is provocative and Pinocchio is sure that she is playing him so he'll let her go.
"I know who you are," she states, almost amused. "As a matter of fact, I've heard quite the deal about you."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes. You're the son of the wood carver, the boy who was a puppet, once." She pauses, apparently searching for something in her memory. "Pinocchio."
He furrows his eyebrows. How does this stranger know so much about him?
"Now that you know my name, it's only fair that you tell me yours."
The young woman seems to ponder, for a second, before replying. "You can call me Swan."
"Swan." He tries the word. It seems to fit her and at the same time it doesn't. "That's an odd name you've got there."
"I've never said that was my name," she retorts, a teasing smile playing on her lips and a mischievous glint in her eyes.
She seems to be evaluating him, observing him attentively, and Pinocchio begins to feel uncomfortable. Never in his life has he been under such a scrutinizing gaze. He should stay away from her, but he's already been lured into her charming ways. Slowly but surely, she gets closer to him, never once tearing her eyes from his. It makes him feel butterflies in his stomach.
"Have you ever kissed a girl?"
Swan seems genuinely curious, but her question leaves him in a bit of a sour mood. He's a bit ashamed that he is the only boy his age who has never kissed a girl, and he certainly doesn't plan to discuss that with this thief, no matter how beautiful said thief may be.
"That isn't a question you should be…"
"So, you haven't," she interrupts him. "It's alright. I've never kissed a boy, either."
Without knowing why, Pinocchio feels rather happy for that piece of information. He doesn't know what to say, though. Is she expecting a kiss from him? He's very confused.
"Would you like to be my first?" she asks, averting her gaze to the ground. He can tell that she's embarrassed by the way her cheeks are turning pink. However, she keeps stepping closer to him.
"I don't know," he replies, truthfully. Her flowery scent is disconcerting and Pinocchio finds himself leaning into her, his heart beating wildly against his ribcage. He doesn't want to take advantage of Swan, but if she wants this as well… "Would you want me to be your first?"
"Yes," she whispers, her breath tickling his lips.
He closes the distance between them. It's only a soft, tentative touch, at first, and Pinocchio raises a hand to touch her face, while she places a hand over his heart. She starts moving her lips against his with more confidence, and sooner she's trying to dart her tongue into his mouth and he concedes. She tastes like apples – which is odd, since they are forbidden in the Kingdom – and it's the greatest sensation in the world.
They pull away from each other, breathless and flush.
"Wow," he mutters, to what she nods, smiling softly at him.
Taking encouragement in that, Pinocchio leans in for another kiss. The next thing he knows, he's down, and Swan is on top of him with her knees pinning him to the ground.
"This is what's going to happen, Pinocchio," she starts. "You will not tell the King about me evading the castle with apples. In return, I will not let him know that you were kissing a thief instead of being on the lookout. Do we have a deal?"
Pinocchio can only nod. She's very intimidating.
"Good," she says with a grin. "Now, I've got to go. I'm already late."
She pecks his lips once again before getting up and starting to run into the forest's direction. Pinocchio is still bewildered by the whole situation, but he manages to prop himself up on his elbows and yell after her.
"Will I see you again soon?"
She turns around briefly and yells back. "Sooner than you think."
After joining the King in the ballroom, before the party had officially begun, he was designed to be guarding the entrance to the West Wing of the castle and he's been there for a good couple of hours.
Every guest is already there; some are dancing, others are snacking and drinking, while the Princess has yet to grace them with her presence. Not that he cares much about the Princess. He still relives every second of that moment with Swan, the previous day, every time he's got the chance.
As if on cue, she appears on top of the stairs, accompanied by the King, in a baby blue dress, and her hair pinned to the back of her head in an intricate knot, some curls gracing her face, and her eyes are shinning with happiness. It's Swan. Except it's not.
Utter terror creeps up on him. Princess Emma is Swan. He had kissed the Princess and if the King finds out, Pinocchio is bound to have a very bad time. Perhaps he should tell the King upfront that he isn't suited to be a part of the Princess's Personal Guard. It will prevent a lot of uncomfortable situations.
She spots him and smiles. She then proceeds to say something to her father and the King nods, glancing at Pinocchio's direction. Moments later, they approach him.
"Hello again, Pinocchio," the King starts.
"Your Highness."
"I thought I should introduce you both, since you will be part of her Personal Guard."
Pinocchio nods respectfully and notices Princess Emma's teasing smile from the corner of his eye.
"You know, Daddy," she says, "I don't think I will need more Knights. Pinocchio is more than enough."
"Emma, I'm sure he's capable of his duties, but…"
"Oh, he's very capable, Daddy. Very skilled." She throws a dashing smile at Pinocchio and he feels as though he's about to faint. "I've witnessed him stop a thief yesterday. And the thief was trying to smuggle apples into the castle."
The King looks as him. "Is this true?"
"Well, Your Highness, I didn't…" he starts.
"Oh, don't be modest, Pinocchio. I know what I saw," she interrupts him. He nods.
"If my daughter is so adamant in having only you, I suppose I'll trust her," stated the King. "As of tomorrow, your duties will be only to serve the Princess and nothing more. Now, if you'll excuse me, my wife is signaling me that she wishes a dance."
As soon as the King joins the Queen at the dance floor, the Princess turns to Pinocchio, an amused smile playing on her lips.
"Don't worry, Pinocchio. Your secret is still safe with me."
"Good to know that, Swan."
She rolls her eyes. "Must you be so resentful?" She pauses for a while, crimson spreading on her cheeks. "I didn't lie about the kiss. It really was my first. And it was perfect."
His heart skips a beat. "I'd kiss you again right now if I could."
"Well, Pinocchio, I might take up on that offer some time," she informs before turning around "You better let my father know of your intentions, though."
She leaves him flabbergasted and heads to some of the guests to exchange pleasantries.
But Pinocchio understands the implications of her last sentence. And if he's going to court her, he will have to do things right or the King will kill him. The little vixen will be the death of him before that, he's sure.