"Amelia said she would try to sneak away in a few minutes," Aria said as she reentered the room, lowering the hood of her cloak as the door shut gently behind her. It had taken Emma and her maid nearly eight hours to ride to the closest village outside of Queen Snow's and King David's kingdom. While most here knew the royal family by name, not many would recognize the princess on sight alone, especially not in her ripped cloak and bland dress. Emma felt comfortable that she could start her escape from here. "M'lady, you're-. You're absolutely sure about this?"
Emma straightened her spine, her gaze never leaving the window. She must look everything like a princess, from the perfect posture to the gentle hands resting over one another in her lap as she stared at the world on the other side of the glass. From the view of her room, Emma could see the villagers walking back and forth, completing chores and stopping every once in a while to hold a pleasant, or not so pleasant, conversation with another townsperson. She could see the tops of the white sails of the ships in the docks peeking over the roofs of the low buildings as well.
"Yes," she whispered, but Aria heard her princess loud and clear, and the servant-girl knew in her heart that this would be Emma's final answer.
"Very well," Aria replied, playing with the loose strands that frayed from her cloak's arm. Due to habit and from years of being a maid, she instinctively released the strays and wiped her palms on her skirt, a soothing and comforting task that Aria considered to almost be a stress release for her. She opened her mouth to reply but closed it when she realized she had nothing substantial to say.
The creaking of the door opening broke the sound of the silence that had conjured in the room, and both girls whipped around to see a slim female with frizzy brown hair sneaking through the small crack in the door.
"So sorry I'm late," the girl said with an airy laugh, bolting the door behind her before turning around to face the two visitors. "I got away as soon as I could."
"Oh, it's no issue at all, Mia," Aria reassured, stepping forward and taking her friend's hand in hers, squeezing lightly. She brought her forward a few steps until both were standing a few feet away from a very curious, but otherwise silent, Emma. "Amelia, this is Princess Emma of Misthaven."
Mia dropped into a low curtsy, her head bowing respectfully. "M'lady."
"Please, it's Emma now. I'm no longer a princess here."
Amelia nodded, the grin never leaving her face. Emma felt like she was normally a happy person, and she felt a flood of relief course through her knowing that this energetic girl was going to be her companion once Aria left to return to the castle.
"Mia, we need your help," Aria spoke up, the formalities done.
Mia pressed her lips together before nodding her head once, slowly, almost seeming to read the plea and utter desperation in her friend's eyes. "Let me go get us some food and drinks first. You both must be exhausted from your travels." Mia grabbed a handful of her skirts in one hand before leaving the room only to return moments later with a tray laden with bread, nuts, a full pitcher, and three empty glasses. "Here we are. I trust you like the room?" Mia asked, placing the loaded tray on a nearby stand, which she then proceeded to drag into the middle of the room so that the three women could sit around it.
"Yes, it's lovely. Thank you for finding us an empty room at the inn on such short notice," Emma responded, inclining her head politely as a form of thanks. Hesitantly, she reached across the tray and grabbed a thin slice of bread. She lifted it to her nose and sniffed lightly; it smelled fresh and warm. She closed her eyes as she felt her stomach rumble with desire. Aria and Emma had finished nearly all of the bread and cheese on the journey to the inn, and Emma was saving whatever was left of her food for an emergency.
Mia nodded, smiling brightly once again. "So how may I help you two?"
With a final glance and nod at Emma, Aria launched into the story of how Emma left home, leaving out some details to spare some of the princess' pride. Mia stayed quiet throughout the entire story, her attention undivided.
"So, will you be able to help Emma blend in here and make sure she's on her way safely?"
Mia nodded energetically once again, so enthusiastically that Emma was worried for a second that Mia would get whiplash if she continued the motion any longer. Feeling the need to contribute to the conversation, Emma spoke up. "I have money. All I really need is guidance. I don't really get out of the palace that much back at home. And I can pay you for your help."
The bushy-haired waitress dismissed her suggestion with a wave of her hand. "Nonsense. Any friend of Aria's is a friend of mine. I'm happy to help a friend," she reassured, offering Emma a cordial smirk. "It seems we need new clothes the most?"
Aria nodded, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth in contemplation. "Probably a new cloak as well. And she'll need another horse. Her mare right now practically screams royalty, and she's too tired for another long journey on top of that. Don't worry, Miss, I'll get her back to the castle stables safely," Aria directed at Emma. The princess agreed with a single nod of her head, even though it hurt to separate herself from her horse; the two had been together since both were young.
The rest of the plans were finalized, Aria and Mia making most of the conversation while Emma sat nearby, her gaze glued to the world on the other side of the window once more.
"Emma," a voice interrupted her once more, and she snapped her gaze over to see Mia and Aria starting to stand. Mia was clearing the tray, and Aria was pulling on the hood of her cloak once again, tugging it so that it covered her hair and the majority of her face.
"Is this it?" Emma asked, tucking a bit of stray hair behind her ear as she almost shyly stood up from her seat near the window.
Aria's lips lifted into a small but sad smile, and she nodded lightly, her eyes watering slightly. "I'm afraid so, M'lady. I'm going to miss you." Emma noticed that Mia, whether she meant to or not, had turned away from the pair to busy herself in order to allow them to have a proper and private goodbye.
With a small smile, Emma reached forward and tugged on her former maid's arm, pulling her into a hug. Aria didn't hesitate to tighten her hold around Emma's waist as the two embraced. Emma could feel wet droplets landing on her bare shoulder, and she could feel her own eyes watering at the prospect of leaving an old friend behind. With a heavy sigh, they pulled away from each other, Aria holding her friend at arm's length. "Good luck, Emma."
"And you as well. Please get home safely."
"I promise," Aria reassured, pulling her in for one last quick hug before repositioning the hood of her cloak once more and offering Mia a quick hug as well. Emma looked away, not finding the courage in her to watch the closest thing she had to a friend leave. She only heard the muffled goodbyes and the soft click as the door shut behind her.
"Emma, step out. We need to see the dress so that we can alter it if need be," Mia called out through the curtain that separated Emeline from the rest of the shop.
Emma didn't respond, distracted by her appearance in the full length mirror that was hanging delicately from the wall. Mia and the shopkeeper had thrown dress after dress over and under the curtain, and she felt like she'd been trying on dresses for hours. At last, she found one she liked, and it felt like she was staring at a whole new person, a free person. The dress was a light shade of blue on top that spanned across the corset and down the sleeves of her arms, which cut off just after her elbows. Where the corset ended, the bottom of her dress fanned out into a loose skirt that was the same shade of blue as the top. The dress as a whole was the perfect length, ending a hair past her ankles. It was fitting, and the corset hugged her midsection securely but comfortably, pushing her breasts up, forcing her to show a bit more cleavage than her mother usually condoned when it came to her palace attire. Emma quickly tied her hair up into a loose braid, letting it fall down her back and rest slightly in the middle, a couple of stray pieces escaping and landing along the sides of her face, the hair barely tickling her cheeks. Her outfit was topped off with a couple of flowers that she had braided into her hair so that they formed a crown of sorts.
She slowly placed her hands on her midriff, spreading out her fingers so that they spanned across the length of the corset, her thumbs brushing across the laces that tied it in the front.
The only jewelry she wore was a necklace with a single charm on it: a silver swan. The necklace had belonged to Emeline. Her sister had gifted it to her on her eighteenth birthday, saying that she would rather no one else where this necklace more than the one she loved most in the world. Her heart aching, Emma remembered that Emeline had said those words to her before she met and fell in love with Baelfire, before she announced her pregnancy. No, there would be no going back now for Emma, but she swore to herself she'd never part with this necklace. It was a reminder of her family, of what was once her loving home, her safe haven.
With a final nod and a deep breath, Emma pulled back the curtain and stepped out into the small shop, the ruffling of the fabric calling Mia's and the shopkeeper's attention towards her. Mia gave her an once-over and beamed while the shopkeeper nodded approvingly. "That's a lovely color on you," the woman declared, smiling warmly.
"Yes, I love that dress, Prin-. Emma! Lovely color!" Mia babbled. If the shopkeeper suspected anything about Mia's close slip-up, then it was overshadowed by the girl's enthusiasm. "I love that necklace as well! Were you wearing that all day?"
Emma nodded, not finding it in her willpower to speak, not after her recent memory about the necklace's history. Her hand rose to lightly grip the charm, the metal cold between her thumb and pointer finger.
"I guess it was hidden by the cloak then," Mia shrugged, her bright smile never dimming. If anything, it grew brighter, if that was even possible. "Do you want to try on another?" she asked, her head twitching in a gesture towards the racks of dresses.
Emma cleared her throat, glancing down at the commoner dress she now wore. "No, I think I can make do with just this one for now. Do you mind tossing out that old dress while I pay for this?"
Mia waved her hand, grabbing Emma's old garments and exiting the shop, leaving Emma alone with the middle-aged shopkeeper. She inquired about cloaks, and the woman handed Emma a bundle of folded garments. She picked one, a dark brown one with a couple of frayed ends, and paid for it and the dress before meeting a very perky (as usual) Mia outside the shop.
"So what next?"
"I actually don't know," Emma admitted after a moment of silence, avoiding looking at Mia's wide and expectant eyes. "I tend not to think through my plans completely before I decide to do them. I got away from home, and I got a disguise, but I didn't really think about what to do after," she confessed, twirling the ends of her braid between her fingers, smiling sheepishly.
Mia let out a light laugh, her eyebrow still raised. "I should get back to the inn soon. Maybe you can help out at the tavern tonight? We're supposed to get a few new ships in port tonight. I'm sure I can convince Little John to give you a job for a few nights until you figure out what you want to do."
Emma nodded silently, and before she knew it, Mia had her hand latched around her wrist in a vice grip, and the two girls were running through the village to get to the inn. They dodged townspeople left and right, ducking under signs and jumping out the way of carriages and people carrying baskets full of food and clothing. They earned a couple of angry grumbles along the way, but Emma didn't care; she had never felt so alive more than she did right now. She was out of breath by the time they reached the inn's entrance, but she could hear the sound of the men shouting and bottles clashing from within even though it was still early in the evening.
"Come on," Mia coaxed, tugging at Emma's sleeve when she noticed that her new friend had hesitated at the entrance to the inn's accompanying tavern. "It sounds worse than it is. I promise," Mia reassured. "Robin owns the inn and tavern, but Little John is in charge of all the barmaids and just, well, the bar in general. We'll find him first before bothering Robin."
Emma let Mia guide her into the tavern, and she let the smell of alcohol invade her nose before blinking once, subconsciously adjusting her eyes to the new light and setting. There was a bar spanning across the entire back wall; three women were working behind it, fixing up drinks for the men that sat on wooden stools stationed along the bar's counter. In each corner of the room, there was a circular table with a booth and a few chairs surrounding it. In the rest of the room, wooden tables and chairs filled up the empty space, spanning from one end of the room to the other and barely leaving any room in between for people to walk through.
It didn't take long to find Little John. He was at the center of one of the largest crowds at the end of the bar, his company occupying the circular table half shrouded in darkness. Emma could hear the sound of glasses clanking together and the sloshing of the alcohol inside, the yells of the spirited men as they drank the night away invading her ears once more. The entire joint smelled strongly of alcohol, the stench even more prominent on the inside, and Emma wrinkled her nose, not used to the strong odor. Back in the castle, the most anyone seemed to drink was a glass of wine every now and then, usually only on special occasions.
"Little John, ya big drunk! I need to chat with ya!" Mia called out, placing a hand on her hip as she shot a smile at the man next to her, whose jaw was slacked and his drink forgotten for the time being.
"Amelia!" a man's voice boomed, and the men were suddenly parted, allowing for a bigger man to walk through. He held a mug of some kind of alcohol in his hand, the liquid spilling over the sides when he raised his hands to greet his employee. Even though he seemed half-drunk, Emma could see the kind twinkle in his eyes and the lines etched onto his face permanently from years of smiling. He had a shaggy mane of hair that spread down to his shoulders and across the bottom of his face, forming an equally unkempt beard and mustache. "Where have you been, girl?" Even though the question was phrased as a demand, Emma could hear the mirth in his voice, and she instantly knew Little John wasn't angry with Mia.
"I was helping out a new friend. Little John, this is Ella," Mia introduced, using the alias that the girls had come up with before even entering the dress shop. Aria had assured Emma that they had ridden far enough away where Emma wouldn't be recognized on sight, but there was no guarantee that her name was unknown in these villages. In Emma's mind, it was better safe than sorry, and she had no desire to see her escape plan fail before it had even really begun.
"Nice to meet ya, Ella. Are ya new to the village? Reckon I haven't seen someone the likes of you around before."
"Yes. I just arrived this morning. Mia was just showing me around," Emma said, offering a kind smile at Little John, ignoring the wild thumping of her heart. Thanks to the confines of the castle walls and her parents' strict orders to never leave without a guard with her, Emma was rarely granted access to the true outside world. When she was able to escape for a few hours, her titles proceeded her; the village people treated her respectfully, and, well, like a princess. Now, off on her own, Emma felt like she was experiencing the real world for the first time, and that included using a fake name and talking to strangers in taverns apparently.
"Look, Little John, Ella's only in town for a few days, and she needs some money to help her on her way. Is it possible you can allow her to bartend here for a few nights?" Mia pleaded.
Little John rocked on his back heels, cradling his cup close to his chest. His lips were pursed, his narrowed eyes analyzing Emma. One hand reached up to tug on his beard, a habit Emma recognized from her royal tutor as one of thinking, pondering. "D'you have any experience bartending, lass?"
Mia nudged her with her shoulder, and Emma cleared her throat, wringing her hands together in front of her stomach nervously. "Yeah, loads. I used to waitress back in my old village."
Little John nodded, slowly raising his glass and dumping the remainder of its contents into his mouth. He smacked his lips once, the sound drowned in the uproar of a group of men at a nearby table focused on a dice game. "Tell ya what. The port's gonna be busy the next few nights. Why don'cha stay until they all clear on out a bit and things dim down around here?"
"Really?" Emma asked, not sure why she was surprised that Little John had offered her a job. Mia all but said he would.
"Yeah, an extra hand or two could help around here. Amelia here will show ya around and keep an eye on ya. If ya ever need me, I'm usually at this table right round here," he said, gesturing over his shoulder to the packed table behind him.
Emma nodded gratefully, not sure what else to say. She was relieved when she felt Mia tugging on her hand, pulling her towards the bar, and when Little John sat back at his table, swiping a tankard from the bar and refilling his glass amidst cheers and spirited hollers.
"Is he always drunk?" Emma found herself asking, glancing over her shoulder discreetly to eye the table.
"That? That was just Little John having some fun. He's never truly drunk in case something were to ever go wrong round here. If anything, he's just merry." Mia directed Emma behind the bar, dragging her to the far end where there was a door nearly hidden behind shelves and unused tables. "Sorry. This door always seems to be blocked," she apologized, nudging the tables away with her foot before swinging the door open. "Here we are!"
The room was dark and tiny, but Mia grabbed a lantern hanging from the wall and used it to provide a glimpse into the room. There were shelves that lined each of the walls, stretching up to the ceiling. While most of the shelves held tankards of different kinds of alcohol, some were dedicated to storing empty cups and fresh towels. There was a small stack of chairs pressed against the back shelf, most of the seats already placed outside in the actual tavern.
Mia ignored all of the supplies though, choosing instead to turn to her immediate right, reaching up slightly and grabbing two white aprons that hung from the wall on a hook. "Here, wrap this around your waist. Tie it tightly so it doesn't get snagged on anything as you walk around."
Emma did as she was told, tying her apron as Mia closed the door once more and led her behind the bar. She pointed out where everything was located, and she told Emma what she was going to be doing, including taking orders and serving them, occasionally even serving them to tables throughout the tavern. Emma had looked at Mia with wide eyes, and the girl had laughed, unraveling her hair from its bun and passing her fingers through it a few times.
"Again, it sounds worse than it is. Now, you might wanna consider letting your hair outta that braid. Loose hair tends to drive the men a little wild, and that means more tips for you, princess," Mia winked and smirked mischievously at Emma, the double meaning behind the new nickname not lost on the latter girl. Emma shook her head quickly, twisting the ends of her braid nervously, and Mia shrugged, a wide smile still plastered on her face.
The night progressed quite smoothly, Ema trailing Mia and helping her to serve drinks. The men, especially those who became victims to the alcohol early in the night, seemed entranced by Emma's beauty. Emma, not used to the constant flirtatious remarks and pointed stares, found herself blushing repeatedly throughout the night, a reaction that only seemed to summon more men. She allowed the men to have their fun, mostly because she felt safe knowing that Mia was watching her and that Little John had stayed in the same corner all night, his presence known throughout the tavern by his booming laugh. Only one had the courage to latch onto Emma's wrist when she handed him his drink, his dirty fingers causing red marks to appear on Emma's creamy skin. He had tugged her forward roughly so that Emma's free hand was pressed against the bar counter in an effort to keep herself steady, but she was otherwise bent mostly over the counter, her head so close to the drunken man that she could smell the alcohol on his breath as he leaned closer.
The encounter had ended as quickly as it had started as Emma used her free hand to let go of the counter and dig her nails into the man's arm, causing him to yelp and allowing her to rip her arm free of the man's clutches. Both glared daggers at one another, and the man made to strike Emma, but he was held back before he was able to reach her.
"Causing trouble once again, lad?" Little John's voice called out, and the man ungracefully whirled around to see the barkeeper smiling coldly at him. "I thought ya would have learned ya lesson last week when ya were violent towards one of Robin's girls. 'Fraid I have no choice but to turn ya out again." Two of Little John's friends grabbed the man's arms and dragged him out of the tavern, the man cursing and insulting Emeline the entire way out. "Ya alright, lass?" Little John asked.
"I'll be fine. I can take care of myself," Emma said, her hand subconsciously rubbing her wrist in an effort to soothe the forming bruise. "Thank you for your help, though," she added, realizing how ungrateful she sounded at first.
Little John chuckled, clapping a hand on her shoulder. "I have no doubt about that, lass. Those scratches on his arm ya left will last for days. Serves 'im right." He squeezed her shoulder once more before turning around, rejoining his friends at the table.
Emma continued her job, forcing the memory of the attempted assault out of her mind for the time being. The tavern only grew busier as the night wore on, and more than once, Emma found herself being complimented by Mia about what a natural she was at the job. For the most part, the men were civil drunks, save for the constant flirting and intentional brushes of their hands against hers. If anything, Emma found most of them funny, she herself amazed that drinking and gambling inside of a small room was how sailors decided to spend their time at port. In retrospect, she could understand what months at sea could do a person, and she figured that spending the night drinking away one's mind and playing rigged dice games was just a way to relieve stress. But thinking about it and experiencing it were two different things, and already, not one night away from her prim and proper castle life, Emma felt her eyes and mind opening to a whole new world.
"Are you tired yet?" Mia snuck up behind Emma, causing the girl to jump and allow some of the rum she was pouring to slip over the edges of the cup, the liquid sliding over her hand. "Sorry," she giggled apologetically as Emma wiped up the mess.
"This is the most work I have ever done in my entire life," Emma admitted, and Mia nodded slowly, noting the way some more strands of golden hair had escaped from the loose braid and were cascading down the runaway princess' face. Her cheeks were slightly reddened, whether it be from the hard work or the remnants of hours of blushing, Mia was clueless, but the slight tinge to her cheeks brought out the green in her eyes. Her apron was slightly dirty, and the sleeves of her dress had begun to slip down her arms, baring her shoulders and collarbones, but Emma didn't seem to notice nor care. "And I absolutely love it," Emma continued, making Mia smile warmly. "I never knew how exhilarating this all was."
"It's just a job, princess," Mia teased, using her nickname for Emma again. "I figured ya would hate it, especially with the job I found ya. Bartending's not for everyone. I saw that pass that one man made at you earlier tonight. You're okay?" Mia verified, grabbing an empty cup and filling it with alcohol before sliding it down the bar to a waiting bartender.
"I'm fine. I managed to scratch him. I can take care of myself," Emma replied, repeating the words she used earlier that night with Little John. Mia raised an eyebrow, smirking at her new friend.
Mia was about to reply when the doors to the tavern swung open, banging against the walls and drawing eyes toward the newcomers. As more men stepped through the doors, the entire tavern became silent. The girls had all stopped their movements, staring either fearfully or flirtatiously at the group, and the other inhabitants of the bar all stared, their expressions knowing, fearful, uncomfortable.
The first man, the one who slammed the doors open, took one step forward, and the only sound that could be heard in the entire tavern was the sound of ragged breathing, the thump of the man's boots as he walked slowly to a corner table, and the quiet ring as the chains around his neck clinked together. Eyes followed the man until he reached the table, leaning his head back and opening his mouth slightly, just wide enough to stick the tip of his tongue out and swipe his bottom lip. His eyes surveyed the room, his dark blue eyes landing briefly on Emma and Mia, who were huddled together, frozen, behind the bar. In the second that his eyes rested on them, Emma felt a chill race up her spine, calling her to stiffen.
Satisfied, the man smirked before lowering himself slowly in the seat, his back resting against the wall. As soon as he was settled, his group filed into the tavern, and the room soon become loud and boisterous once more. Drinking resumed, dice games started up again, and the women began to serve once more, a couple making their way over to the newcomers immediately.
Emma watched silently as the ringleader of the group, the man with the dark blue eyes, wrapped his arm around the waist of the incoming bartender, practically pulling the girl onto his waist. She giggled, throwing her arm around his shoulder and handing him a full tankard of alcohol with the other. He let out a loud laugh, and though Emma was halfway across the room, she could hear the laugh as clear as it would have sounded if the man had been standing right next to her. Another chill crept up her spine, and she immediately lowered her eyes, not wanting to be caught staring by the stranger.
"Mia, who are they?" Emma whispered to her friend. Mia's eyes were locked on the glass she was cleaning, her posture rigid and her cheeks sucked in. The happy-go-lucky girl was gone for the time being, and Emma found this quick change in demeanor even more unsettling than anything that she had witnessed in the tavern all night. "Mia," she pressed.
Mia closed her eyes, setting the glass down on the counter with shaking hands. She gripped the edges of the counter, her knuckles turning white from the rough grip. After a few moments of silence from her friend, Mia took a deep breath and turned, her chocolate-colored eyes locking with Emma's worried eyes.
"Captain Blackbeard and his crew."