Looks Can Be Deceiving
Chapter One: Its All Fun And Games Until Someone Gets Engaged
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Warning: Epic silliness ahoy!
A/N: I blame this on too much Adventure Time. And video games… And probably booze.
"You know," August huffed out, bending at the waist and placing his hands on his knees as he gasped for air. The mirth in his voice matching the twinkle in his blue eyes perfectly. "You really have a bad habit of attracting unsavory fellows."
Emma only glared at him, brushing her golden bangs from her sweaty face. They'd been running for what felt like forever with their pursuers hot on their tails. "Don't you dare try to pin another one of your stupid get rich quick schemes on me."
In response August shook the decent sized satchel of gold in his hands. The wonderful jingle of coins sounding like music to his ears. "We won, didn't we?"
"I won. You sat there and watched."
"Come on, Emma, you-"
Whatever bullshit he was about to spin was interrupted by the clanking of metal and the heavy thud of boots slowing against pavement. By loud, labored breathing and an angry bellow. "We got you damn street rats cornered! Now hand over the coin!"
"Easy, guys." August threw the three thuggish looking men, low ranking soldiers in the King's army if their armor was any indication, a cheeky smile. "So you were bested by a woman, no need to get testy."
"There's no way a girl beat me in a sword fight and those winnings," His squinted gaze landed on the satchel of gold in August's hand. "Are rightfully mine." His meaty hand went to the pommel of his sword, the menacing look in his eyes worsening. "You'll give back what you stole, boy."
Emma, wary of the entire situation, heaved a heavy sigh. A wry grin tugging at her lips. "Can't we all just get along?"
"I don't get along with a couple of mouthy peasants. I'll be taking my coin and," His beady little eyes landed on the sword holstered to Emma's hip. His cruel, crooked grin displayed just how many teeth he was missing. "The fancy sword you little thieves stole off some noble no doubt."
"Well," Emma shrugged her shoulders, her grin falling from her lips. "At least I tried."
The lackey that lunged for her was easily sidestepped, her elbow connecting with his back and sending him face first into a wooden cart. Enraged, the leader charged. Emma and August shared a wary eye roll, matching grins on their faces, before surging into a full on brawl against the five lumbering soldiers.
Ten minutes and a few minor injuries later found the two best friends sitting in a tavern. Licking their wounds, celebrating their win, and spending their hard earned coin on copious amounts of ale. All in all a typical night for them.
They'd been on their own since they were booted from the overcrowded orphanage. Emma was barely two when someone, her parents most likely, left her on the orphanage's doorstep. She couldn't remember a single thing about the people who abandoned her. All she had were two simple facts. One, they'd named her Emma. A fact deduced by the embroidered name on the blanket she was left wrapped in. And two, they must have been pretty well off or very good at stealing if the finely crafted sword they left her with was any indication. You would think it would be easy to steal such an expensive looking piece of weaponry from an infant but apparently the thing was enchanted. It had a habit of returning to her every time it was taken.
"What's with the face, Emma?" The question was paired with a nudge.
Emma shook the thoughts of her childhood from her head and turned to face her best friend. "That is the last time I'm going through with one of your schemes, got it?"
August merely took a swig of his ale, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and grinned sloppily at her. "My brilliant plan is what's going to have us rolling in riches and it isn't finished yet."
"We won our coin and I still have my sword." Emma grumbled into her mug. Taking a healthy swig before settling him with a hash stare. "Your idiotic scheme sure as hell sounds finished to me."
A devious grin swept across his lips and he shook his head at her antics. Pulling a scroll of parchment from the satchel holding their coin and waiving it almost tauntingly in Emma's face. "This is our real prize."
Emma stared flatly at him, ignoring the scroll completely. She could feel it in her gut, her every instinct telling her that whatever was written on that scroll was bad news. "How is a scrap of parchment worth more than a satchel full of coin?"
The deviousness of his grin spread to his blue eyes. Making them shine in a way Emma knew could only mean trouble. He flattened the parchment out on the dirty wooden table they were seated at. "Read it."
There, at the bottom of the paper, was the royal insignia. Emma only stared skeptically at the insignia. It wasn't the first time August had gained possession of a faked royal document. "What's this supposed to be? Another sordid love letter we're going to use for blackmail? Because that ended so well last time."
"It's an invitation to participate in the King's tournament. And get this," She really should be wary of that damn glimmer in his eyes. "The prize is said to guarantee a lifetime of wealth and rank."
Emma snorted and rolled her eyes. Dutifully ignoring the intensifying glimmer present in his gaze. The one he tended to get when his imagination was running away with him. She wouldn't be surprised if she found him in the town square later telling another one of his tall tales to a group of children and gullible townsfolk. "No, August. I know that look and, whatever it is you're thinking, just... no. I'm not going along with it this time."
His faraway look disappeared almost instantly at her refusal. He settled the blonde with a wide grin. "Oh, I think you will."
"I will not."
"You will."
"I'm not going along with another one of your ridiculous schemes!"
"Come on, Emma. Just hear me out!"
"Whatever you're thinking," Emma gave him a solemn, defiant look. Her green eyes narrowed and lips pursed. "I'm not doing it."
All she could hear was the roar of the crowd. The rush of adrenaline and fear coursing through her. The heat of the sun beating down on her and the brightness of it shining in her eyes. Emma squinted at the lumbering figure standing smack dab in the middle of the arena, snarling at her as she stood on the sidelines next to August. She knew there had to be a horrified expression stretched across her face. Most likely the same horrified expression she found mirrored back at her from August's face.
The hulking, vicious looking warrior standing in the middle of the arena was her next and final opponent. She had been mostly cruising through the tournament. Exerting only enough effort to play with her opponents before easily besting them. But the opponent that was currently staring her down? Yeah, no way... not happening.
August's horrified expression never left his face as he offered Emma a shrug. A weak smile easing across his lips. "At least it's almost over."
Emma stared right back at him, her expression queasy. "I quit."
"Oh come on, Emma. You can't quit now. Stop being such a girl about it."
The blonde glared at him, green eyes sparking with absolute annoyance. She hated being called a girl like it was meant to be some sort of insult. Emma prided herself on being able to do anything a man could do. "You're an ass."
Not giving him the chance to respond, Emma strode out toward the center of the arena to meet her opponent. Her gait cocky and a haughty smirk on her face. Her mask of confidence almost faltered when she was finally standing right in front of her opponent. The man was massive and ugly and, oh god, what was that smell? She gagged, not even trying to hide the disgust in her voice. "They didn't tell me ogres were allowed to compete. I thought the last of you died off during the Wars."
The statement was enough to have her opponent roaring at her and charging, blind to the triumphant smirk at her lips. Emma might not have had proper training when it came to fighting but she'd always been a fighter. It was pure instinct and adrenaline that led her during each and every fight. The feeling was like a rush, a pull, a barely audible voice telling her to duck or dodge or strike a split second before she needed to. It was that same feeling that led her to victory more often than not and she learned to trust her gut. So when her opponent reared his large axe back, readying for a blow she was sure would cleave anyone else in half, Emma listened to her instincts. Managing to brace herself and lift her sword just in time to block. What Emma wasn't prepared for was the quickness of his second strike. She had underestimated her opponent's surprising agility. The blade of his axe met her sword with a loud clang. The force of the strike vibrated through the metal of her sword, stinging at her white knuckled hands, and coursing painfully up her arms. Had her shifting her stance to accommodate her backwards momentum. She barely blocked the next, lighting quick, upward strike and it sent her almost flying backward into the cheering crowd.
Emma could feel a hand pressed against her back, easing her upright. August's half worried, half chiding voice barely audible above the roaring of the excited crowd. "I don't think he likes you very much."
"Ya think?" Emma pushed the retort through gritted teeth. Hating the wobbly feeling in her arms and the almost numb feeling at her hands.
A chastising albeit thoroughly amused expression slipped across his handsome features. "You really need to work on your people skills."
Emma glared at him, an immense frown pulling at her lips. "I hate you."
"No you don't." He offered her a cheeky smile before pushing her back toward her opponent. Sending her stumbling forward toward the heartily chuckling ogre of a man.
"Hey!" She ignored the strain in her protesting limbs and gave in to her instincts, shifting into a fighting stance. Sword lifted in front of her and emerald eyes practically glowing with determination. "Play time's over."
She was sore, sweaty, quickly bruising, bleeding a little from the gash at her bicep, and in desperate need of a hot bath. Most of all she was victorious. The fight hadn't been an easy one to win but she'd done so and she was sure as hell ready for her reward. After being announced Champion of the King's tournament, a set of knights had suddenly swarmed her. Two of them latching onto her elbows and "escorting" her through the palace entrance until she found herself standing before the Queen. A particularly helpful knight nudged her into a kneeling position, his gruff voice informing her she was in the presence of their queen. Emma shot a glare at Sir Helpful, a sarcastic retort on the tip of her tongue.
Before she had a chance to speak, the Queen was addressing the knight. "The King's Champion will be treated with the utmost respect, Sir Kay."
"Yes, Your Majesty." The knight, Sir Kay, bowed. His meaty hand gripped tightly at Emma's sore bicep, pulling her into a standing position.
"So," The Queen stepped forward, the smile curving at her lips not reaching her eyes. "You are my husband's Champion." It was said in an almost taunting manner. The Queen's vicious gaze taking in her undoubtedly horrific appearance. Her bullshit smile faltering. "You are not what I expected."
"Let me guess. You expected some fearsome warrior with bulging muscles and some fancy title. Well, I might not have either of those but I won the tourney fair and square so I'll be leaving with my prize." Emma felt another, more painful, nudge from Sir Helpful right in between her shoulder blades. Sending pain searing through her and forcing her to grit her teeth. "Your Majesty."
The Queen looked equal parts irritated and intrigued. "What is your name, Champion?"
"Emma," She sent a dubious glare in Sir Helpful's direction before continuing. "Your Majesty."
"Do you not have a family name?"
"Can't have a family name if you don't have a family," Her emerald eyes shifted toward Sir Helpful once again, this time with a mirthful twinkle. The edges of her lips curling upward and her voice taking on an over exaggerated tone. "Your Majesty."
Emma delighted in the twitching of Sir Helpful's eye. Her smirk growing immensely. She was so focused on annoying the knight that she missed the look of shock in the Queen's eyes.
"No family?"
"I don't see what that has to do with me getting my winnings, Your Majesty." Emma was starting to get annoyed. She won the tournament and all she wanted was her, according to August, pretty epic prize so she could leave already. The first thing she was going to buy was a hot bath and then lots and lots of much needed alcohol. If the reward was as epic as it was rumored to be, she could spring for the top shelf stuff.
"I see you've met our Champion, my Queen." As fate would have it, the King chose that very moment to enter the room. An excitable looking August being shuffled in behind him by two surly looking knights. "What an exciting show she put on! I can hardly believe she bested one of my generals!"
"That's Emma for you, Your Majesties." August dipped into a low bow, his twinkling gaze meeting Emma's sour one in a sideways glance. "In all the years I've known her she's never met an opponent she couldn't overcome."
"And you are?" The Queen arched a brow.
"August W. Booth, Your Majesty. Emma's better half."
The King frowned at the statement. "I was not aware our Champion was attached."
Emma paled at the insinuation. She swore she threw up a little in her mouth. "I'm not attached! Especially not to a stupid idiot like him!"
The room was completely silent after her outburst. August was shooting her a 'you're screwing this up' stare. The Queen was practically scowling at her. And the King, well, the King burst into a fit of laughter. "Forgive me the assumption, dear girl."
"I, uh, sorry about the yelling." Emma flushed red to the tips of her ears with embarrassment, bowing stiffly. "Your Majesty."
"I trust you are eager to receive your prize?"
Not trusting herself to speak, Emma simply nodded. She could practically feel August buzzing with excitement next to her. The prospect of wealth, possibly a title, and who knew what else was an exciting thing. Emma supposed she should be giddier about the whole thing but her everything ached and she would give her left foot for a hot bath. Maybe that was part of her prize. A hot bath. With scented soaps. She could just imagine the heat of it soothing her sore muscles, the scent lulling her into utter tranquility. Her wistful imaginings almost had her missing the King's declaration.
"...a Champion you are and will henceforth be known as throughout this realm. In this tournament of bravery, of strength, and of cunning you have prevailed and for that you will be given the greatest treasure I could ever bestow."
It seemed as though even the knights were holding their breaths. Waiting to hear was this secret but epic prize was.
"The hand of my daughter, sole heir to my throne, the Crown Princess Regina."
"Wait..." Emma could've sworn he just said... "What?!"
"Please excuse Emma's poor manners, your Majesties." August chuckled nervously, attempting to repair the damage Emma had done. "She's simply in awe of your gracious overture."
The King, seemingly satisfied by August's explanation, smiled broadly at his Champion. "Our princess has gone missing and as Champion, as future Queen Consort to this kingdom, you will locate the princess and bring her back safely."
The Queen, who did not look as pleased as her husband, chose that moment to speak. Her voice hard and eyes cold. "Only when my daughter is returned to me unharmed will you secure your new station. Do we have an understanding, Champion?"
The nudge she received from August seemed to jump start her malfunctioning brain enough for her to nod. Her voice a monotonous drone. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Here's a little preview from Chapter Two:
"Uh, funny story actually. Well, not that funny. I, um," This woman was gorgeous and her voice. God. Emma had never heard anything so enticing. It was velvet and sweet and smooth and playful and it made her head gooey. Turned her insides to flames, sent her pulse racing. She couldn't retain her confident demeanor around this dark haired beauty. "I'm looking for someone."
"Oh?" Regina took a stealthy step closer. The blonde's reaction was palatable. She could do this. She could trick this woman who had such a blatant attraction to her. This supposed Champion would bend to her will, would lose at a game she didn't know she was playing. If her father thought this gullible girl, so quick to fluster in the presence of beauty, would be able to capture her and take her back to the confines of the Dark Kingdom castle he was sorely mistaken. "It seems we have that in common."