Authors Note: This story was developed for CS AU Week 2016. I intend to update it biweekly on Tuesdays going forward.
Emma awoke to the sounds of shouting and cannon fire. Shit, this was not part of the plan. Emma scrambled off the bunk and secured her bodice which she had loosened to take a nap. Emma suddenly found herself glad she was wearing a dress that fell to halfway down her thighs, under which she wore pants and leather calf-high boots. And thank goodness the bodice she wore provided enough structure she could do without a corset.
The captain's disapproval of her wearing men's attire on a prior trip had lead to the compromise of her current outfit, but it would aide her well if she had to fight. She quickly grabbed her sword, dagger and gun and tucked them into her belt. About to exit the room, she ran back to the desk for two smaller knives, and shoved the smaller knife between her breasts and the other into a secret pocket inside her boots. Armed as well as she could manage, she came to the top deck to find a ship almost lined up to board hers. Why the hell did the captain not wake her, she thought in a panic.
A quick scan of the deck revealed, to her horror, that the captain and a few other souls were lying underneath the mainmast which had been taken out by the cannon fire. The officers of the ship were gone and the sailors that remained were unorganized. One of the men was shouting that they had begun to take on water.
"Men, listen to me, we need to keep those pirates off of this ship," Emma shouted to the men at the top of her lungs. The men turned to her, uncertain what to do, but willing to follow orders if only because she was the last vestige of authority on the ship. Emma, with the ease of one who had spent her life giving orders, ordered the gunners to prepare the cannons (though she doubted they would be able to shoot anything before the pirates boarded) and for those who could fight, she ordered them to prepare to repel boarders as the vanguard of the pirate crew swung over on ropes.
"We cannot let these pirates best us!"
"Aye, milady!" The men rallied around her and tried as best as they could to muster some semblance of defense, but the pirates cut through them easily. These men were only merchants after all, not trained soldiers. Emma silently cursed herself for running away from home. She was responsible for this crew's fate. Emma knew at this point that the battle was all but lost, no amount of strategy could stop the pirates or save the ship. Had a crew member sought her out earlier, she could have helped them avoid the predicament they found themselves in but now she could only make the best choices from here on out to ensure survival. At least they had not been flying the Royal Standard of Misthaven, but rather that of Arendelle. She had always felt it was best if she used the alias Elsa had created for her so she could travel without revealing her true identity. Emma needed to reach her friend as soon as possible but the latest developments seemed to have put paid to that plan. She sincerely hoped that everything would work out in the end because it felt like hope was all she had.
They had chased the vessel for nearly two hours, coming upon her quite by accident. Killian hadn't meant to take out the mast, but it certainly made it easier to claim any prize that lay aboard if they couldn't flee. Killian had hoped to avoid a fight (most men choose to surrender when they raised the black) if only to spare the costly fight that the ship's capture would demand, but he would enjoy the exertion of the fight. He gave the order and his men pushed the gangplank from the Jolly Roger onto the deck of the paralyzed ship and flooded onto it, cutting down the crew as they moved.
He was about to move forward into the fray himself when he saw a flash of blond hair weaving madly through his men. In the middle of the deck was a woman, fighting with amazing skill and precision, her shortened skirts twirling as she deftly dodged the attacks of his men. She was fighting four of his best and was not only fending them off one by one, but she defeated each man ensuring they would not rise back up. That she did so without ending their lives showed she was masterful in her skill. Her footwork was as light as though she was in a ballroom dancing, and her use of both dagger and longsword to attack as well as defend was nothing short of amazing. His men started to circle around her, unsure to how handle the witch they saw before them. Her beauty was unlike anything he or his crew had ever seen and her skill was definitely unexpected.
Killian moved with purpose on to the deck and his men parted to let him through. The woman stood almost against the ship's railing, assessing the situation. Her crew was all but gone, his men had made quick work of those whom had attempted such a meager and lackluster effort. His crew had a few men kneeling in front of them, hands above their heads, that had surrendered in an attempt to save their lives. He could see she was just realizing she was the sole person left fighting and for the briefest moment he saw panic flash onto the woman's face. She straightened, standing tall, still in a defensive position and looked straight at him. Her green eyes meet his and then swept up over him appreciatively. A quick smile lit onto her face as she watched him approach her, but she quickly hid her reaction.
"Well, my lady, it seems you are the last defender of this ship. What is a lovely creature like you doing alone in such poor company?" He approached her so that he stood just a few feet from her.
"I do not owe you any answers, sir." She advanced, holding her sword pointed at his throat. Killian didn't flinch. He drew his own sword and knocked hers back away from him, forcing her to retreat a few steps, sword falling to the deck.
"Your Grace, don't!" One of the men kneeling shouted. She shook her head and bit her lip in frustration.
"Your Grace? And just who might you be, my lady?" His curiosity was peaked. What kind of royalty was she that she wielded weapons better than many a seasoned soldier?
She sighed, knowing she didn't have many cards left to play now her own man had outed her royal status. "I am Lady Emma Swan, Grand Duchess of Arendelle. And this is my ship the White Swan. I was heading to Arendelle to visit my cousin, Queen Elsa. If you agree to take me there and back I shall compensate you in gold, that which you find on this ship and whatever sum you would name otherwise."
"Love, I've already taken the ship. It isn't a negotiation when you have nothing to bargain with," Killian laughed.
"Then I challenge you to a duel. If I win, then you will take me to my original destination in exchange for whatever sum of gold you may request. I will consider it earned honorably and as a diplomatic representative I can guarantee you a pardon within the borders of my cousin's land and those of allied kingdoms. Safe haven on land should you ever need it. If you win, then you can take the gold on this ship and request a ransom from my cousin, but you will not be granted clemency so long as I wish it."
Well he certainly had not expected that. She was certainly a skilled diplomat, offering something that would tempt many a man to turn from crime back to the noble, honorable path. He could hear his men murmuring, curious about the possibility of a pardon.
"And if I should reject your proposal and do as I wish with both you and the treasure aboard this ship?" Crossing his arms, he raised his eyebrows at her suggestively and was rewarded with a blush that covered her face and spread to the tops of her well rounded breasts. Some of the men behind him laughed at the implication.
"Something in your eyes tells me you won't," her calm voice belied the storm in her eyes that reminded him of the tempest nature of the seas.
Suddenly, she held flat her palm and a ball of fire appeared. "However, I'm sure you have heard of my cousin's ice powers? Mine are quite the opposite and should you cross me then I shall burn this ship to nothing and deprive you of its prize."
It had taken a tremendous amount of effort to conjure the small ball of fire in her hand. Aunt Regina would have been very proud of her. Though Regina was technically her step-grandmother, her role was more of that of loving aunt and mentor as she had been teaching Emma magic. Regina had only been sixteen when she became stepmother to ten year old Snow White. Snow innocently told a secret that cost Regina her first love, resulting in a feud that had lasted almost two decades. Regina was ultimately defeated by Emma's parents and offered forgiveness: a second chance. Regina chose to take the offer, assumed a life as Dowager Queen and finally found love and happiness. Though every once and awhile the Evil Queen she used to be made an appearance via biting comment or harsh look. Regina would definitely approval of her threats against the handsome pirate.
Damn it, keep your wits about you - don't let his pretty face distract your from your purpose here, Emma scolded herself. She focused on the raven-haired man in front of her. Standing about six inches taller than her, she thought he appeared as though he was in his mid to late twenties. He was wearing black leather pants, a black shirt and a red leather vest that was open at the top to expose his dark chest hair. His piercing, blue eyes watched her, darting from her face to the fireball, hesitant to make a decision.
"Your Grace, what guarantee do I have that you will fight me fairly?" He didn't fear her and seemed to be considering fighting her, which would definitely work out better than if she had to set fire to the ship. She really wished Regina had taught her how to teleport because then she wouldn't be in this predicament in the first place. She dissolved the fireball in her palm, the need to gain his attention and take her seriously no longer present.
"Try something new, Captain, it's called trust. I give you my word that should you agree to fight honorably, I will not use my magic against you. In return, I would expect you to act a gentleman and promise not to use dirty fighting tactics."
"Well love, I'm always a gentleman. I will trust you at your word. I agree to your request to duel and the terms which you have outlined. Shall we say that the winner be declared by first blood?" He smirked at her; the confident bastard thought he was going to win. She was certain he had watched her fighting, she had felt his eyes following her, so he had to know she wouldn't be defeated so easily. He didn't know that her father, the best swordsman in their kingdom, had trained her to fight from a young age until her skill surpassed his and they sparred for her father's benefit rather than hers.
"Accepted. May I know the name of my opponent?" She extended her hand to him and he took it without hesitation.
"Captain Killian Jones, at your service, Your Grace." He executed a deep, courtly bow, keeping his eyes on hers the entire time as he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. She almost laughed, but years of etiquette and good breeding kicked in, so instead she curtsied. Emma couldn't determine what was more fascinating to her: the gentleman or the pirate. Emma's first instinct was to trust him but her second had been to conjure the fireball, afraid she might be wrong in her impression of him.
"Don't think I'm taking my eyes off of you for a second," Emma muttered under her breathe and then turned a shade of red as he winked at her.
"I would despair if you did," the pirate laughed.
She reached out to retrieve her sword and grabbed her dagger from her belt. He drew his weapons and they started to circle each other, almost daring the other to attack first. The crew had moved away to give them the center of the ship. She saw him tense as he lunged forward in attack. She blocked his moves and countered with an attack of her own. As they danced around each other, taking turns attacking and defending against the other, Emma judged that they were actually very evenly matched, though her pride would never permit her to say such out loud. Emma managed to get closer to him, pushing his blades away from them, disabling his ability to attack for a moment, and inched her dagger toward his neck.
"Very good form, Your Grace. I've never seen a woman like yourself. You are very skilled." His compliment threw her off and he knocked her dagger to the deck with his head and pushed away from her. Fighting with only the one blade left her feeling unbalanced, though she quickly recovered. He chuckled at her momentary unbalance which angered her. "But not good enough."
She lunged at him in attack but he flipped her over so she landed on the deck. Hard. He was on her before she could move, sliding both his blades down her single blade, pushing it back towards the deck.
"Normally, I'd prefer to do more enjoyable activities with a woman on her back." He raised his eyebrows at her as he had before. Emma tried to ignore her body's response to the intimacy of their position. While she wasn't completely an innocent, she hadn't ever been intimate with a man in the way his words suggested. She blushed a deep shade of red. "A bit of advice? When I jab you with my sword, you'll feel it. Perhaps you should just quit."
Emma had no doubt what he said was true, but she felt something else pressing into her. The dagger! She reached under her back, her hand desperately feeling for the source of her discomfort, relieved when her fingers found what she was searching for.
"Why would I do that when I am winning?" She laughed, as she hit him in the nose with the hilt of the knife. Crimson droplets trickled down his face. The look of surprise on his face was very vulnerable for a brief moment before he stood up, wiping away the blood with the back of his shirt sleeve. He schooled his demeanor and smiled wryly at her.
"Your Grace, you seem to have won the services of myself and my crew." Captain Jones turned to a stout man in a red cap, "Mr. Smee, please see to it that Her Grace's belongings are moved to the 1st mate's cabin. You'll now be in general crew quarters. And lock what remains of her crew in the brig until we next make port."
The man looked as though he wished to say something but thought better of challenging his captain's orders. Captain Jones smiled, his blue eyes still brightly shining from the exhilaration of their fight, and extended his hand to her and pulling her up off the deck. Emma brushed herself off and fixed her skirt, avoiding eye contact.
"Thank you, Captain," Emma replied. "I need to secure some things from below." She rushed below decks to see to her belongings. Or to escape a certain handsome pirate who made her heart race. Damn it, she silently cursed. She didn't even know him though she couldn't help the feeling that she did, very much, want to know him much better.
Killian followed her below to her cabin. He leaned in the doorway and watched as she packed away her things into the trunk at the bottom of her bunk. Killian couldn't explain it, but he felt drawn to her. She intrigued him and not just because she was the only person to ever best him in a fight. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was an extremely skilled tactician and marvelous fighter. And the most surprising and curious thing about her was her magic.
"Your Grace, may I ask why you didn't just use your magic to fix the ship or simply avoid the battle altogether?"
"Captain, I think you already know the answer to the question you're asking." She said softly. She turned away from him and continued packing.
"Yes, love. You're something of an open book. You were bluffing me: you don't control your magic well enough and I suspect it took great effort to conjure that fire," Killian concluded. "What I don't understand is why ask to fight me when you had no reason to believe I would be an honorable man?"
She turned, setting down the books she was packing and walked up to him, stopping less than a foot from him. "I'm an excellent judge of character. Something in your eyes told me you are an honorable man. And I have this skill, I call it my superpower: I know when someone is lying. You weren't lying to me when you agreed to my terms. And in spite of everything that lead to that moment, I felt I could trust you."
She lingered in his personal space, her green eyes not leaving his, saying what she hadn't out loud. Her breathing was uneven, a red blush still lingered on her cheeks from earlier. He couldn't help but think of the moment she had rushed him in their fight and his natural response had been to use her momentum to flip her to the deck. Pinning her down with his body, mimicking the intimacy of sex with their swords, had left him in a terrible state. They both desired each other, so very clearly. She was royalty and he was definitely not worthy of someone so high as her. The pirate in him wanted to make her feel him as he fucked her senseless but the gentleman in him wanted to be deserving of the odd trust she seemed to have in him. Her faith in his good nature was alarming because, at the moment, even he wasn't sure which would win out in the end. She seemed to sense the internal war he was experiencing, because she turned and went back to packing as though the last few minutes in close proximity had not just occurred.
It had taken her nearly two hours to pack her belongings and supervise their transfer onto the Jolly Roger. The captain had left her to oversee the movement of the cargo from below and only returned to her company as the work was complete.
"Captain, what shall happen to my ship?" She whispered as she felt him join her at the railing on the Swan's deck.
"We cannot make repairs on it because we lack the resources and if you could have fixed it with your magic you would have. I'm sorry, but we will have to scuttle the ship." He looked at her, sadness in his eyes. He was probably imagining how he would feel if it was his ship.
"I understood that would likely occur no matter the outcome of the day. I may own this ship but it was never home for me like it might have been for the men who served on it. I will not feel its loss as much as them. I understand that you will keep them in the brig until we next make port. How long will that be?"
"The nearest port is a week away. I cannot trust your men not to start trouble aboard my ship, but I will release them when we arrive that they may choose their way from there. I'm sure some of my own men will take their share of the gold and leave as well. We will likely have to spend some time in port replenishing our ranks." He smiled a half smile at her, as he extended his hand to her again. "We should board the Jolly now, the charges are being set to blow up the ship."
"Thank you, Captain." She accepted his hand and he lead her across the gangplank to his ship. He escorted her to her cabin, which lie right next to his. He opened the door and ushered her through the door. There was a small bunk, made up with the linens that had recently graced her own bunk on the White Swan. Her trunk was at the bottom of the bunk. There were a few shelves built into the wall that now sat empty for her use and a desk with an accompanying armchair positioned underneath a porthole. It was small but would certainly function for her requirements.
"I hope that these quarters will be comfortable for you. I shall see to it that we are underway and later you can join me in my cabin for the evening meal. The men have been instructed not to disturb you. Please let me know if you require anything else." He was looking at her with the same hunger as he had earlier and she felt a stirring in the pit of her stomach.
"I shall rest and join you for supper then." She replied, weary from the day's activitIes.
She awoke a few hours later feeling better than she had before. She found a basin of fresh water on the desk that the young cabin boy she had seen earlier must have delivered whilst she slept. She striped down and cleaned herself, brushing and plaiting her hair when she was complete. Emma realized her clothes were soiled so she switched to a light blue dress that reminded her of the captain's startling eyes. A quick glance into her mirror showed that she was flushed, but she didn't have time to do anything about it because there came a light knock on the cabin door.
"Your Grace? Are you ready to join me?" His warm, accented voice inquired.
She opened the door and smiled. "Yes, lead the way, Captain." Emma followed him down the corridor to the cabin next door and he opened it, standing to the side to let her pass first. She wasn't sure what she had expected but the orderly and tidy space she found was not it. There were dozens of books, with bindings that looked well worn, and maps and charts stacked on the majority of the shelves. Tucked into the rear left corner was his bunk, drawers for storage underneath it, a trunk with the initials K.J. on the floor in front of it. The space was twice the size of her cabin, a large table and two chairs in the center of the room covered with their dinner. He guided her to a chair, pulling it out for her as any gentleman would at court.
They ate in silence, every so often their gaze met and she would avert her eyes. When she finished, she stood and walked over to the shelves full of books, running her fingers over the bindings. The books ranged on topics from politics and strategy to music and art. There were even a few novels among the titles. He was something of an enigma. Part dangerous pirate and part educated gentleman. How had he ended up here?
"You may borrow one if you wish," his voice floated to her ears, breaking through her musings. He was still seated, wine goblet in hand, as he simply watched her looking through his things.
"I hadn't meant to violate the privacy of your cabin. I was just shocked to see so many books, ones that are obviously well cared for, on a pirate ship. I would be glad of something to do during the voyage, thank you." She selected a book about nautical lore. "I think I shall retire now."
She registered the flash of disappointment on his face but ignored it. She didn't want to remain in his cabin into the evening because she didn't trust herself not to act on the attraction she had to him. He walked her back her cabin and pressed a light kiss to her knuckles.
"Good evening, Lady Swan," he said, reluctantly releasing her hand.
Emma spent the next three days in her cabin, avoiding the captain. Benji, the young cabin boy brought her meals which she ate alone. She knew she couldn't avoid him much longer, but she decided to wait another day. When darkness had fallen and she heard most of the crew retire for the evening, she grabbed a shawl and ventured onto the deck. Only a few crew members were needed at night and they ignored her as they went about their work. She leaned against the railing, looking up at the endless sea of stars above.
The moon was large and shone brightly in the night sky, Emma judged it would be full two days from now. Her mother's dearest friend and Emma's godmother, Red, had taught Emma how to read the stages of the moon and how to read the stars. Emma thought of how much she missed her family. She had run off to see her dear friend Elsa without telling anyone. She had been overwhelmed by the urgency with which she had been told she would have to learn to control her magic. Elsa had written about her own struggles with magic and that she overcame them, but had not shared how. Emma's lessons with Regina had started to become intensive and Emma had struggled to keep pace. Emma had always excelled in her lessons as a child whether it was politics, sword fighting, archery, horseback riding or dancing. Everything had always come easy to her: except magic. She began showing signs of it in the last year and everyone's expectations had overwhelmed her until she finally packed a trunk and snuck out to her ship in the middle of the night. She had convinced the captain to take her to Arendelle and he hadn't questioned her orders. After all, she did own the ship, just under her alias.
Emma watched the moonlight dance on the waves, entranced by the simple beauty of the ocean under the stars.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" The captain's warm voice asked, startling her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. I heard you leave your cabin for the first time in days and I thought I should check to ensure you were all right."
His hair was disheveled, a sign he had just awoken and he was wearing just a black shirt and pants, his chest hair exposed by the half buttoned shirt.
"The sea has always been calming for me. I'm just missing home. My family. I simply wished to visit Elsa as I did when we were children and pretend we were as free as we were then. We spent every summer together since I can remember. I didn't have siblings so Anna and Elsa were my siblings. When we were older the summers began to dwindle down to two or three weeks at a time. After my brother was born five years ago, my parents were less inclined to travel so I began to travel alone to visit Elsa and Anna. I love the feeling of the ocean lulling me to sleep. I love the independence I've had traveling from Misthaven to Arendelle. Here I am free from tutors, lessons, law and politics and my aunt teaching me magic. My life has always been determined by forces greater than myself. Sounds childish and reckless, I'm sure, to pretend I am other than I am, to ignore my responsibilities," Emma sighed.
"No, it sounds as though you've been given responsibility at such a young age and you simply wish to rebel a little," Killian replied, leaning in next to her against the rail.
"I think it's because here, at sea, I am myself. Not a member of a royal family, not a student of magic, not political chess piece to be moved; I'm simply Emma." She turned to gage his reaction and found blue eyes studying her intently.
She could see he understood how she felt. Society's definition wasn't always clear cut. And it wasn't always right. He certainly did not fit the expectations she had in regard to a pirate captain.
"I've never done anything this reckless, leaving without telling anyone where I was going. Well, until I challenged a pirate captain to a fight. A captain that I felt I could trust from the first moment and it scares me a bit too. You're a bit of a mystery, one I really wish to solve."
"What do you want to know?" he replied, surprising himself. He realized he wanted to know her and for her to know and understand him.
Her eyes widen, clearly not expecting him to be open with her. "How old are you? How did you come to be a pirate? I feel like there are two conflicting sides to you and I'm not sure which is real."
"I'm twenty-six years old. I was once in the navy of the Southern Kingdom. I had an unfortunate upbringing, having lost my mother as a wee babe and been abandoned by my father to a life of servitude at sea as a young child. I eventually earned enough to buy my freedom, joined the navy and educated myself from the books provided by my mentor, an admiral. The admiral was the one who secured my entry into the naval academy, encouraged the furthering of my education and helped my brother Liam secure my commission as a lieutenant. Liam, who was 4 years older than I, worked his way up to captain without the benefit of the education that I received. Not long after the admiral retired the king sent us on a mission that cost me the life of my brother, who was appointed captain of this ship, then known as the Jewel of the Realm, shortly before the voyage. After that, grief drove me to piracy and I claimed this ship as my own. I decided that the freedom offered by piracy was better than the tyranny of a king." Killian hadn't spoken his brother's name in years. There were members of his crew that had been here during his brother's tenure as Captain whom had stayed on, but they knew not to say his name for fear of Killian's temper.
She placed her hand on his arm, small tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry." He placed his hand on her cheek, gently brushing her tears away, then retracted his hand quickly as he realized the uninvited intimacy of what he had done.
"It wasn't always so difficult. There were good times too." Killian smiled. Emma smiled back, and then surprised him by using the back of her hand to brush away tears he hand even realized had fallen. Her hand lingered and she nodded at him reassuringly.
Killian regaled her with more about Liam and some of their adventures. He awed her with stories of the places he had travelled to since his brother's passing. Emma simply leaned against the rail and listened with rapt attention at the tales he spun. Killian felt freer than he had in a long time having someone to talk with. It wasn't until she yawned and nearly fell over from exhaustion, he took note of the hour. The sky was lighter; the pink and orange streaked through the grayish blue sky signaling the coming dawn.
She yawned and almost slipped again, but he caught her by the waist. He swept her up in his arms, knowing she was too tired to protest, and carried her to her cabin, tucking her in.
"Thank you, Captain."
"Killian."
"Ok, good night, Killian," she corrects herself, burrowing into her blankets.
"Good night, Your Grace," he murmured, kissing her knuckles. He moved towards the door to leave, however the sound of her voice caused him to turn back to her.
"Emma. It's Emma, Killian," she said, her eyes half open as sleep begins to claim her.
"Good night then, Emma." He whispered it and saw her smile before he closed the door, making a very hasty retreat to his cabin.
What the bloody hell just happened, he thought. He had never talked about himself so openly, but with Emma it had seemed right. Carrying her down to her cabin, he had felt afire with her body pressed against his; though having her in his arms had felt right, he had done the honorable thing and left her alone. Killian hadn't felt like an honorable man since before Liam died. Sure, while he had a code (honor among thieves and such) he was still a thief and a murderer. Getting to know Emma and exposing some of his past to her had made him question whether or not he was the kind of man he wanted to be and, for the first time in years, he wasn't sure he liked the answer to that question.