She was a revelation. He didn't know what he expected of the princess, a good show maybe a few decent moments of sword play but never this. He hardly saw her sword her first few strikes. She was lightning with that sword, her feet in constant movement, as she whirled around him poking at weak spots and testing his defences. It took all of his concentration to keep blocking her - he didn't even try to go on the offensive. She didn't fight like a royal - no grand slashes or carefully planned dances. Nor did she fight like a pirate - no brutal hits or showmanship. She moved with a sparse economy that was as brutal as it was efficient. She gave no quarter and took nothing for granted constantly dancing around him never letting her assault slip nor her emotions show. He had considered himself an expert swordsman. The best on his ship by a mile and never in meet of a sailor nor a soldier who could best him. It was painfully obvious that he was going to lose this match. Sweat was dripping down his face as he took a couple of slashes to his left arm in quick succession. One two three; cutting through thick leather and flesh like butter, then she was gone dancing out of his reach as her sword parried with his. He had hit her a couple of times: a shallow gash on her thigh, a slice on her cheek. But for every hit she took he received tenfold. She was using the limited space of his deck as if it was a dance floor. One, two, three strike - her lunge so quick he felt the blossom of pain on his thigh before he saw her sword slice neatly in his thigh. He slashed down - wanting to hit her shoulder, perhaps make her sword arm useless if he was lucky. But his sword went wide as she tumbled underneath his outstretched arm - slashing a red line across his back before he could turn around. The sinking pit in his stomach grew - he was going to lose. She must have noticed his moment of realization at his demise because she caught his eye and while he was prepared to be skewered on the end of her sword her defences dropped and he took opportunity, knocking her sword away with his hook and tackling her to the ground - holding her lithe frame under his bulk.

"Do you give?" she asked.

He couldn't believe her gaul - she was the one pinned underneath him! As his men cheered he took note of her teasing smile and warning eyes. Shit - he hadn't broken through her defenses she had let them drop.

"Do you give, Captain?" She asked again, a warning in her tone. He knew that look because it was often in his eyes when he conquered ships, won battles. He knew then that if he said no she would figure out a way to break free of his hold and run him through with his own sword.

His yes was breathed upon her skin.

Her smile widened. "Then I suggest we chat."

He stood up - his men cheering his victory while her companions looked at him with amusement.

"The Princess and I have much to discuss. Smith! Guard our guests, the rest of you back to work!" His orders felt hollow. It had been a long time since he lost a fight and he was raging at himself. How could he lose to a girl? A princess! She barely came up to his shoulder and she had none of his muscle yet - he paused as he glanced at the princess following behind him. Her head raised, shoulders squared as she followed him into his spacious cabin. She had won. He vowed to work on his swordsmanship and begin working out again, had he gotten lazy? Slow? Or was she really that good? He didn't know which one was worse.

He paused to pull out a chair for her, his mind a million miles away as he sat down opposite and poured her some rum, gulping a load down himself. He reached for water - downing a jug of it and wiping the sweat off his brow with his sleeve. Gods he hadn't sweated like that in a while. He turned to offer her water but was halted as he took in the sight of her. She had placed her hair back up in a knot at the top of her head, her cheeks were flushed but she was composed. Her dress was a little askew but overall she looked well put together. Every inch a princess. He on the other hand was dirty, covered in a few dozen slashes- some of which were still bleeding. His shirt was more red than white, his hair a mess of sweaty strands and his lungs were still heaving. He nearly dropped his water jug as he stared at her in absolute awe. She had a little smirk on her face. She hadn't even been trying. He gaped at her smug smirk, wondering how quickly he would have been at her mercy had she decided to give it all she had.

"Gods," he breathed, staring at her in wonder.

"Just Emma," She smirked at him. Arrogance written all over her features.

Arrogance in a royal usually caused him absolute rage, all reminders of King George and Liam. But he felt none of that rage staring at her. She had earned her arrogance, and she had earned his respect.

"You could have killed me." He needed to be sure of his suspicions.

"Yes." She said. Arrogance gone, a confidence beyond her years in its place.

"You could have killed any man on my ship." he stated. She simply nodded her agreement.

"Why didn't you?"

"I could have beat you, your first mate and your entire crew. My people though - some of them would have been harmed before I could finish the job." He nodded at her statement. It was as he expected.

"It's an honourable thing you did."

"I just wanted to get your attention. It's honourable for you to negotiate with me."

He doubted his honourability. It wasn't as if he had much of a choice.

He drank some rum thinking up his next point of negotiation. It had been a very long time since he hadn't had all the power in a negotiation.

"Which Kingdom are you from?" He asked when it was clear she wasn't going to break the silence first.

"The Enchanted Forest."

His eyes widened. The Enchanted Forest was the largest of the Northern Kingdoms. It was wealthy, massive, and had an abundance of natural resources that allowed for prosperity for all within her borders.

"You're far from home, Princess."

"You shall refer to me as Your Highness, Captain." There was fire in her eyes though her voice was soft.

"You are not my lord, darling." A dark edge had crept into his voice. He didn't like being ordered about.

"No, I'm just the woman who kicked your ass." the corner of her mouth crept into a smile and he couldn't help himself. He laughed, big booming laughs that made his stomach hurt and tears spring in his eyes.

She chuckled a little at his laughter, a slight smile coming to her face. She was gorgeous when she smiled.

"Yes, yes you are your highness. I apologize for my laughter." He was still smiling.

"It's alright, I assume no one has beat you in a sword fight in quite a while."

"Not since I was a boy." He admitted.

"You're quite good." She said diplomatically. The tension in the room had diminished greatly at his laughter.

"Not as good as you." He admitted, raising his glass to her.

She gave him a smile that said not many were.

"What brings you out this way, your highness?"

"An expedition of sorts. We needed to trade at Stromholm."

"That's very far for a trade." The elven city of Stromholm was in the Southern Realms. Nearly two months journey from her palace port.

"As I'm sure you know there are treasures that are worth the journey."

He smiled again. She really was quite something.

"Aye, your highness, that there are."

"It's a journey I must complete." She said it with some force and the smile slipped off his face. Here comes the hard parts.

"Fraid that cannot happen. I have men to satiate and they require gold, your highness."

"You may have some of the gold on my ship, if you let us leave."

He shook his head. "I doubt that would be enough and as you're well aware I have to maintain appearances."

"As I am well aware?"

"Why didn't you kill me?" He asked.

"I don't like killing unless I absolutely have to. And, you seemed much more honourable than the rest." She admitted it freely as if it were fact.

He laughed again. "Your highness, I am the least honourable man aboard."

She shook her head in disagreement. "What will it take for you to let us go?"

"All your gold and anything else of value aboard, and you." He wasn't quite sure why he added her at the end.

"No."

"Well then I see we are at a disagreement."

They sat in silence for a few moments before he spoke again.

"Your ship is damaged. You know this."

She nodded.

"It won't make it to Stromholm. The storms of the straights will take your ship apart and drown everyone in it."

"She'll hold." The Princess seemed firm but Killian thought she was delusional. That ship was going to tip over if a particularly large bird hit it.

"I must disagree, darling. You have no way to get to Stromholm, with or without your cargo." He smirked as he poured himself more rum. He had her.

"Unless you take me there, with my cargo."

She must be delusional.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because you're not going to be able to sell any of my cargo at any port, and you're too honourable to sentence me and my companions to death."

"I'm not that honourable, your highness, I've killed many men in my time."

She just raised an elegant eyebrow. "If you were going to kill us you would have done so by now. Let me make you a deal. You let the crew of my ship go at the nearest port, you take my cargo, me, and my companions to Stromholm. I sell enough of my cargo to make my deal and you get the rest. You must trust me when I say that with my aid you'll get a much better price. Elves won't buy from pirates and the merchants at port will give you a third of what it's worth. You take the money and take me back to my home, at which point I'll give you a reward upon our safe return."

"What kind of reward?"

"Whatever you want can be negotiated. Gold, jewels, land, pardons for all your men and homes for them all. You can take your pick." She was calm, collected, and had such steel behind her eyes Killian wondered if he had been all wrong about royalty. She was not a thing like he expected.

"You're offering to be my hostage?"

"Guest." She was firm. "My companions and I are your guests. Your crew will not touch any of them nor myself."

"I won't have any slack on my ship."

"My companions are hard workers and the journey is long. I'm sure they will find something to do on your ship." She replied diplomatically.

"And what of you, Princess," he gave her a dark grin at her glare. "What do you intend to do aboard my ship? Warm my bed?" He gave her his most lecherous leer.

She was a marvel, he decided, when she kept her chin raised, her face soft but he saw the glint of fear in her eyes.

Her no was soft but not without force.

"Aye, well lucky for you I don't make a habit of forcing women, takes all the fun out of the chase." He gave her one more leery stare.

"I don't make a habit of taking pirates into my bed," she commented primly.

Killian snorted as he took another drink. Aye lass, I don't suppose you do.

"So are we in agreement?" She asked, finishing the last of her rum with a slight grimace.

"Aye, your highness, I suppose we are."

He toasted her with the last of his rum before heading to the deck to give his orders to his crew. He surveyed his men suddenly feeling a twinge of insecurity. His men were a loyal bunch, his newest recruit had been on his ship for five years now. Most had been with him since Neverland, a few had been with him before, and the oldest of them, his Master-at-Arms James Monroe, his Carpenter George Phillips, his Doctor Bartholomew Johnson, and of course, his Quartermaster and first mate Clayton Smith had all been with him from the beginning. They were all navy men for King George before everything went sideways and they became everything they had once despised. He may know the goodness of his crew but looking at them now he wondered what on earth the princess saw. They were all filthy, sweat soaked and smelled ripe. Their clothes were of good quality but just as dirty and as smelly as the rest of them. They were hard men, all at various degrees of brutality in their eyes.

He ran a hand through his hair trying to smooth the wild mop. In contrast the princesses companions were much more well put together. He heard soft footsteps coming up the stairs behind him. She was really quite beautiful. From her long pale blonde hair to her blue dress and creamy skin. For the first time in a long time he felt scruffy and for the first time in even longer he cared and that was no small thing.

Feeling completely out of place Killian glowered and cracked his neck as his cabin boy, Jack hollered at everyone to shut up. Killian gave his orders quickly, wanting to move on before the wind changed. He was intensely aware that the Princess stood behind him. After he spoke he turned to her.

"Get your people back on their ship - make it peaceful," He ordered quietly. She simply nodded as his crew went to her ship to strip it bare while she calmed her crew. She was good at it - he had to admit. She was calm, firm, her crew put up a fight but she never flinched. In little over two hours all her cargo was on the Jolly and she was hugging her crew goodbye. She embraced them all from the quartermaster to the lowliest deckhand. Finally she waved them off and he met his captives.

There were four women including the Princess and he couldn't help the satisfied smile spread across his face as he took in their beauty. A tall lass with tumbles of unruly brown curls, painfully red lips and eyes promising sin was glaring at him as she placed a protective hand on her Princesses shoulder. On the other side of the Princess stood a petite woman with straight black hair and deep brown eyes wearing too much armour for her small frame. She stood in front of the two women, her hand on the hilt of her katan. Behind them all was a small woman, beautiful, with brown hair, glasses and a warm smile. There were also a man with them, a knight by the look of his armour and tailoring. Killian wondered if he had ever done a hard day's work in his life.

"Captain, may I introduce my companions?" The princess was never without her manners. "This is my godmother, Ruby," The tall goddess nodded to him, "and my knights: Mulan, Graham," she pointed to the two warriors who were trying to shield her without being obvious, "and my lady-in-waiting, Belle." The small woman smiled tentatively at Killian before fixing her eyes back on the floor.

"Lovely to meet you ladies." He really was laying on the charm thick. The tall lass, Ruby, eyed him up and down before cocking a well manicured eyebrow. The knights just glared at him with all of the malice he was used to receiving from nobels.

He understood the knights, it was wise for her to bring protection onto his ship. His men wouldn't touch her but she didn't know that. The Godmother was a little murkier though judging by the lasses disposition it was clear to him that she probably didn't give the princess a choice in the matter. As for the lady-in-waiting, Killian nearly ordered her to get off his ship. That girl was not going to last a minute on the pirate's ship. But then again, he never thought a princess would kick his ass either.