The ball was fading into memory by the time Emma took her weekly visit to the local villages a few days later. This short break from the castle was a chance to escape the pressures of palace life: and that expectation and observation which were part and parcel of a royal title.

Wrapped up in her thickest and simplest wool cloak, she escaped through the kitchen's entrance with a basket of bread and cheese and a purse full of coins. Misthaven, however generous it was to its subjects, still had residents who struggled to eat and care for themselves. So Emma tried to bring them food and some coins from time to time and at least in this small way she felt that she was serving some purpose other than heir apparent. She felt useful. And that was a rare thing nowadays.

As usual, Ruby had arranged with the groomsmen to have her favorite horse tied up and waiting a small distance into the forest that surrounded the castle wall. Her lady in waiting was certainly charming when it came to the opposite sex. She was also the person who would cover for her absences should anyone question the princess's whereabouts. Such a good friend, Emma thought as she mounted her steed, mulling over how much longer it would be until Dr. Whale made his intentions clear and Ruby would have to leave her. Her loyal friend had spent long enough by her side and deserved a life of her own, Emma owed her that much. That thought was quickly pushed aside as Tess began to pick up speed: something to worry about another day, she mused.

Cantering through the trees with ease, the path she took was familiar and well trodden for the chestnut colored mare. The weather was changing early this year, the first leaves beginning to turn gold, the last fruit long fallen from the branch. Emma wondered how many more seasons she would pass in this manner. Sometimes she wished she could pause life, just as it was now. Capturing these moments where youth was still her currency and expectation had not yet fallen fully on her shoulders was one of her primary occupations. Her brother was still very young, she needed to retain the appearance of a strong heir until he was at least of age, and that meant taking more responsibility very soon. If her parents had been able to convince her, she would have undertaken a more active role for at least these past five years. But her mother was patient (and still convinced her aversion to marriage was temporary) and her father - well, she had him wrapped around her finger since infancy.

The ride to her destination took less than an hour. By the time she arrived in the small clearing where it lay, her cheeks were flush and her lungs full of the clean, fresh air that she adored. Rogat was one of the smallest villages in the entire kingdom, and as such there were but a few dwellings. It didn't take long for her to check on the two largest families - each with a brood of children who never seemed to have shoes that fit or enough grain to quite stretch through the winter. After furnishing their cupboards with the goods she brought from the kitchen, she laid a pile of coins on the hand of each mother, promising more soon and brushing off the pledges of thanks and gratitude.

Emma sought no thanks for her work. In fact, she felt it was a paltry thing and if she could, would do more. Her parents, while generous, were mainly focused on the security of the kingdom. She understood: the very battles that had been fought since her infancy had guaranteed such a mindset. But now - well, wasn't this a new time of peace and stability? Queen Regina finally defeated and banished to a realm from whence she would not be able to return - surely this meant that their priorities could change?

With these thoughts on her mind, Emma stopped at the well that was the focal point of the village and drew up a bucket of fresh water, not pausing to decant it into her gourd before she took a drink. Sometimes she wished she could live a simple life like these people. Yes, it would be difficult to manage a living here, but the freedom-

freedom was the antithesis of her royal life in so many way. Yet as Emma watched the village children play in amongst the houses, a new and more pressing thought emerged.

She had responsibility and she could - if she chose - have matching power. If she only took that step to be the princess her parents wished her to be, why, she could do so much good. She had so many ideas and dreams-

It was then, as she leant over to return the bucket, that the pendant she wore hidden around her neck slipped from beneath her gown. The silver nugget - flattened by hand and impressed with the image of a swan had been her constant companion for almost ten years now. Automatically her fingers wrapped around it and a shiver of fear ran down her spine - instantly reminded her why she was in no way fit to rule. He had seen to that.

"May I trouble you to help an old crone draw some water?"

Startled, Emma looked up to see the smiling face of an older woman.

"O-of course" Emma stuttered, searching the woman's face for some familiar feature. "Have we met?" she asked as she turned the wheel that lowered the bucket."

"Oh no, I've just moved here to be near my daughter. Even an old woman as stubborn as myself has to accept some help from time to time," she smiled as she sat next to Emma on the low grey-stone wall. "That's pretty, sweetheart. Is that a swan?" she asked, gesturing to the necklace that still dangled over the bodice of her dress.

Emma blushed and tucked the silver pendant back beneath her gown, "Yes, it is…"

"Ah, a love token is it?" she woman continued, a knowing glint in her eye.

"Something like that," Emma replied as she took the jar the woman was holding and began to fill it with water from the well.

"So what's a pretty lass like you doing without a ring on her finger?"

Eyelashes fluttering, Emma bit back the tears. The woman smiled kindly at her, clearly expecting some romantic tale. But Emma couldn't give her that.

She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't waste her tears on him. He wasn't worth it, especially after so long.

"Um… Not quite..." she fumbled, picking up the basket and taking the small purse from where it hung about her waist, "I actually am late… can you take this for the rest of your village?"

The woman took the offered basket and purse as Emma laid the water jar on the well's wall. "Why yes, of course. My dear," she began, placing her hand on Emma's arm, "You seem out of sorts, can I help you in some way?"

Smiling a little bitterly, Emma took a deep calming breath. "No one can help me," she explained softly, "I - I must be going-"

And with that, she picked up her skirts and dashed back to where Tess waited.

/

Riding back to the castle should have taken less than an hour, but Emma decided on a whim to visit a small lake nearby where her father used to take her as a child. Memories of floating paper boats on its calm surface and lying on the flower-filled banks were some of the happiest she possessed. Certainly, new happy moments were hard to come by now.

She dismounted in a small clearing, hitching Tess to a sturdy branch so she could graze as Emma tracked the final few paces to the water's edge. A cool breeze pressed fine ripples into the water and whipped up the tendrils of hair that had escaped the twist she had placed in it that morning. Reaching back, she pulled out the pins and let her locks fall down, taking a moment to enjoy the wind slipping through the strands.

It wasn't very often that she had the chance to be alone. Even when hidden away in her chambers, there was always the ever present knowledge of a nearby servant or lady in waiting surely about to pace the corridors outside. Living in a bubble was hard at the best of times and since the world had turned a shade darker for her, it had became all the more difficult.

She didn't want to think of him again. Perhaps that was the problem. Placing her hand on the pendant around her neck, Emma sighed deeply. Perhaps it was time to stop wearing it? It had been many years now since she had tied it around her neck and vowed never to let a man hurt her again.

Of course, Neal had at first shown her love. Real adult love and affection and all that came with it. She had been a little naive when she met the courtier's son: barely 17, but in many ways much younger after a sheltered upbringing.

He'd been wonderful to begin with. Charming her parents, impeccable manners, such sweet attentions to her that she couldn't help but develop feelings for him. She knew his family had fallen on difficult times, but he never mentioned his hardships when in her presence. Instead, he had lavished attentions on her, spent hours escorting her about the castle grounds and attending to her every need.

He was all a suitor ought to be.

She'd told him she loved him one night when he had snuck into her room long after dark. They'd made love and she'd been happy. So happy.

But then things changed. Her eighteenth birthday came and went (for whence he gave her the swan necklace. Because he'd told her swans were the most graceful creatures and had often compared her to one). And she could tell he was going to propose.

She wasn't ready.

They'd been in the kitchen garden when she told him she wanted to wait. She had sat on the old tree swing as he pushed her. She had worried about his response. Yet he had been… sweet. He'd kissed her forehead and said time was no barrier to his love.

So it came as much surprise when the next day he was inexplicably absent from their arranged meeting at the library. Then the news came that he had left the kingdom on an urgent visit.

And then the further news only weeks later that he was engaged to Princess Tamara of Daneland.

Emma was crushed. Distraught. Her romantic ideals of true love swept away in an instant. All the youthful hopes and trust she possessed crumpled as she sobbed for days into her mother's skirts.

Reaching behind her neck, she unfastened the small clasp that held the chain together. After letting it pool into her hand, she took a last moment to stare at the pendant, acknowledging that holding onto the past like she had been had not helped her. As much as wallowing in self pity sometimes felt good.

Balling up her fist, she pulled back her arm ready to throw it into the lake when a strangled cry rang out among the trees. Pausing, her head twisted towards the direction from whence it came. She could make out the sound of rapid hoof fall and she knew immediately that a horse had gone wild while being ridden. Without a further thought, she quickly stuffed the necklace into the pocket of her cloak and ran the few steps to mount Tess.

With a second's hesitation, she pulled herself into the saddle and galloped towards the commotion.

Tess was quick, darting between the trees with practiced ease. Exhilarated, Emma felt her blood pounding through her veins as the wind threw back her hair and she had to tighten her grip to ensure the horse did not throw her. She'd always been an expert horsewoman - something she had inherited from her mother. Of course, racing like this was not seen as ladylike by some, but her parents had always encouraged her skills and she was thankful for her abilities now. There was no one else in this part of the woods so far as she could tell, so any rescue attempt would be solely her remit.

Then she saw it - a flash of a white horse winding erratically across the forest floor, a rider atop though she could make out neither age nor gender from this distance. Urging Tess to move faster, Emma's cloak billowed about as she tried to catch the other horse. Her heart was beating heavily in her chest, the exhilaration of the chase bringing fire into her veins. It was the most excitement she had experienced in some time.

As she got closer, she could discern the rider was male by their height and build, but also that they were struggling to dig their heels into the flank of the animal and looked like at any moment they may tumble. Holding the reins tighter, Emma focused on the task ahead: clearly the rider was inexperienced and it was her duty to intervene. She pushed away an annoyed thought that someone so lacking in skills should be out here riding alone.

With a final effort, she coerced Tess to match the animal's speed and then exceed it, it was barely enough time for her to come alongside the white steed and take hold of its reins. With one hand clinging to her own saddle, she tugged on the other horse sharply, jolting it from its gallop. For a second, she hoped that would be enough to draw both animals to a halt - albeit it an abrupt one. But it was not to be, and a moment later, the white horse reared back, in turn spooking Tess who stopped violently, resulting in both riders being tossed heavily to the ground.

The world was a blur as she tumbled and rolled, finally landing with a soft thud a few feet away. The weight of the other rider's body pressed against her side as they came to a halt in a mossy patch that felt pleasantly cool beneath her cheek even as everything seemed to keep spinning.

Everything ached. She was sure she would be bruised, but was equally as certain she had avoided any more lasting injuries. The heavy weight of the man's arm - for she was certain it was a man, not a boy - lay over her stomach and she struggled to breathe for it. Groaning, she used one hand to raise herself to sit and the other to push the offending limb aside.

As she brushed away the dry leaves that clung to her clothes, it took a few moments for her eyes to focus. In the distance to her right, she could just see the glimmering surface of the lake and she breathed a sigh of relief that she would still be able to discern her location. She needed to return to the castle in a timely manner lest she be missed and any further solo excursions made impossible. With a sigh, she gently massaged the aching muscles of her neck, almost forgetting about the person she had rescued until he let out a low, pained groan.

"Damn," the body growled. Emma glanced to her left. The man was lying with his face pressed into the dirt, his features obscured by the dark hair that had fallen over his forehead. He was dressed in dark slacks and a blue wool coat - not peasant's clothing, indicating that he was likely from the capital. She wondered what he was doing out this far.

Emma wiped the dirt from her hands on her cloak as she gave the man a moment to pull himself up. He placed his head in his hands for a moment which afforded her the chance to stand and discern that he was broad of shoulder and long limbed. His hair was thick and dark and long enough to lick at the collar of his shirt. A strange feeling of familiarity began to creep over her as he turned to look at her.

"I guess I have a lot of thanks to-"

As he spoke, he looked up at the woman who had rescued him. The sunlight shone behind her and her blonde hair gave her the visage of an angel. Killian was sure he had never seen a more delightful sight, until she interrupted his thoughts with a shrill cry of, "You!"

Confusion marred his features, sunlit as they were by the last of the afternoon's daylight. But while he may have been struggling to place her, she was sure of his identity as soon as those too-blue eyes flickered open.

The Lieutenant.

For his part, Killian squinted in the force of the bright light and stumbled to his feet with the aid of a nearby tree. The voice and the hair it was all so familiar-

"Do we-" he began before it suddenly clicked and he bowed quickly, "Oh, your highness, forgive me."

"Hmph," she snorted in reply and Killian lifted his head. "A little late for that, sailor."

Straightening his shoulders, Killian winced a little at the pain in his back that landing hard on the ground had given him. "I assure you I am most grateful, my lady."

He caught her rolling her eyes as she turned and walked a few paces away.

Because she had to give a little distance from him. He was just a little too close for comfort, especially when she now noted just how their bodies had lain against each other only moments earlier. A crimson flush grew on her cheeks at the thought.

"Just what were you doing?" she sniffed, tucking her hair behind her ears before she turned back to face him, "Trying to get killed?"

Killian recoiled, a little taken aback by the princess's tone. Cautiously, he took a step in her direction."I was merely stretching my horseman's legs, a sailor doesn't often get the chance."

She tossed him a haughty look whilst pulling her cloak tighter about her body. "Well perhaps you should stay within the castle grounds after a display like that."

It was then that Emma appreciated just how close the officer had once again gotten to her. She found herself caught up in the blueness of his eyes just like when she had danced with him at the ball and for a second she forgot herself.

"My apologies, Princess," he replied with a distinct and unexpected sincerity. Moving another step further, "I meant no harm."

"Oh, of course," she mumbled, lashes fluttering involuntarily as she tried to find something other than his face to focus on, feeling a sudden remorse for her treatment of him. "Pardon my outburst, I was merely…" her voice trailed off as she struggled to find a justification for her words.

Killian couldn't help but smile at her change of attitude. And then he couldn't help but tease- "Concerned for my well-being?"

Emma felt her cheeks flare red hot and for a second all words died in her throat. "You speak quite out of turn, lieutenant," she finally quipped, turning and pacing back to where they had landed.

Immediately, Killian followed her, feeling a little foolish and wondering where that comment had come from. "Milady, please, stop. We have taken quite the tumble."

As he walked, he could feel the stretched muscles of his back twitch in annoyance. Clearly she must have caused herself some injury too. Damn, had it been a more serious tumble, he may have been in the line for some trouble from the royals. He could only imagine how they would react to their heir being wounded.

Emma spun around, "Aye, and it would have been much worse had I not intervened."

Nervously, he scratched behind his ear, "A fact for which I have been trying to say thank you."

Taking a deep breath, Emma threaded her hands through her hair.

"I need to get back to the castle," she announced, ignoring her previous statement, "I am already late."

"Then I shall not detain you," he nodded, bowing again, his eyes catching a glint of silver among the grassy floor. Narrowing his eyes, he bent down and scooped up a small silver pendant and chain. "Is this yours?"

Emma started as she saw what the officer held in his hand. The pendant must have fallen from her pocket when she landed.

"Oh, um, yes-" she answered, stretching out her hand to take it, starting when their palms met.

And then she let herself look at him again - really look. He had gotten a sheen of sweat on his forehead that had slicked his hair to one side. His cheeks were red from the exercise and his breathing was still slightly labored - and her traitorous mind began to wonder if that's how he would look when he had been kissed? Oh why was she thinking such things?

"Thank you," she finally managed as she refastened the chain and tucked it beneath her chemise.

She began to straighten her dress and cloak, feeling more uncomfortable with every moment. She couldn't explain it, but there was just something about the way he looked at her which made her feel like he could somehow see beneath her skin.

And as every moment passed she found him more and more handsome. And after spending so many years avoiding the company of men, this unexpected moment with this particular man was most unwelcome.

"How can I repay you?" he asked.

Emma turned and whistled, knowing Tess would respond to her summons within seconds. "Just stay off a horse for a few days," she sighed, not looking at him; trying to pretend he was not really there.

"Well that should not be a problem - we leave in two days. It seems some of Queen Regina's more loyal subjects are putting up resistance on the outskirts of the kingdom."

"That's… soon," Emma replied.

And all of a sudden she felt very strange.

Like this man - who she barely knew - his leaving meant something to her.

Which was preposterous.

"Yes…" Killian sighed, sneaking glances at the beautiful princess and letting his attraction to her flare. An attraction that was ignited by her looks but fueled by her bravery and quick wit. Which he justified was fine because being a sailor he wasn't often in the company of such women. (If many such women even exist.)

"I'd hoped to spend more time here." He swallowed deeply, admitting to himself that he'd have perhaps liked to have the chance to see the princess again. Just from curiosity, of course.

"Well the kingdom appreciates your sacrifices," Emma said stoically as Tess finally came into view. "As I said earlier though, I must be on my way."

"Of course, your highness."

She couldn't help but a little wince at the formal title.

Just as she was about to mount Tess, Killian's horse came into view. He breathed a sigh of relief, already contemplating a hike back to the castle.

And then it occurred to him that he didn't know the way back to the castle.

"Ah - could you perhaps point me to the correct path?" he asked as she was settling her skirts over the saddle.

"I thought sailors had a good sense of direction?" she smiled despite herself.

Taking hold of his own horse he admitted, "Why yes, on the open seas, but as you can see right now, I am quite out of my depths."

And as much as she wanted to remove herself from his dangerous company as soon as possible, she couldn't just leave him out there wandering in the woods and with a sigh of resignation she replied, "Follow me."

/

The last minute decision to take out a horse had, in hindsight, been a little rash. It had been months since he had ridden and even longer since he had been on a long trek alone. But his foolish determination to do as he pleased was not easy to override.

When his steed had taken off he had cursed his own pride and clung as tight as he could until his rescuer had found him.

And what a rescue.

To say he was surprised to see the princess would be an understatement. That she should be out in the woods - and alone - was quite shocking. But adding to that her daring rescue, well, he was quite without the words.

Together they rode silently through the forest. He was curious why she was there. He couldn't help but sneak more glances at her from time to time. Free from her more courtly garb, she was even more stunning than on their first meeting. But more than that, she seemed so much more at home here outside the castle walls. She sat tall and confident in her horse's saddle, her hair tossed over one shoulder and eyes fixed ahead.

They called her haughty, he knew that. He understood. She did give off this air of indifference and solitude in her posture and expression. Still he couldn't help but wonder that there was more to this royal than mere pride.

On his travels he had met and interacted with a great many people. He had met the most arrogant sods imaginable (some of which were his immediate superiors). This princess was different somehow. A conundrum of sorts. A challenge to unravel.

And Killian Jones did like a challenge.

/

Emma found herself leading Lt. Jones directly to the main gate. Ordinarily she would have returned the way she came through the kitchen, but he seemed so completely lost even as they approached the near vicinity of the castle walls that she had decided it would be easiest to lead him in herself.

Somehow they had managed to pass the journey with barely a word between them. It wasn't that she hadn't wanted to talk. More that she wasn't really sure what to say. Yet at first she had tried to ignore him, but an hour's journey with another can rarely pass in comfortable silence. And Emma was acutely aware of this man's presence.

As they rode, she had thought about their dance at the ball - about how forward he had been with her and admitting to herself that she had actually quite liked it. A little battle fought out in her mind between the closed off Emma who was determined to hide away from anyone and everything and the old Emma who she had hidden behind high emotional walls for so long: the old Emma who was curious and courteous and yearned to know everything about everyone.

Still, here they were now, riding through the gates together, herself no more the wiser about this man; attracting the attention of the guardsmen who watched the entrance. Emma knew that this would be gossip around the kingdom before the afternoon was out.

"Well, here we are," she announced as they reached the keep's stables. Easily she dismounted and handed the reins to a stable boy who was running towards them.

Killian sighed in relief, his back was fully stiff now from the fall and the journey. Slipping his feet to the courtyard floor, he turned and gave the princess a warm smile. "I will be forever in your debt."

In response, she nodded, before quickly looking around and taking a step closer. "Lieutenant - can I count on your secrecy in this matter? My journeys from the castle are not common knowledge and I'd like it to remain that way."

Instantly more curious, Killian could only respond with a gallant bow and a muttered, "Of course."

"Then this is where we part," the princess continued. She seemed a little unsure what to do. As did Killian. Until he impulsively reached out his hand and took hers in his, pressing a kiss to the back of her glove, looking up into her eyes as he did so and registering the little glint of surprise they held.

"Adieu, your highness," he replied, slowly turning to walk back to the castle gates.

Emma watched him go, her hand tingling beneath the kid leather, her stomach a little a-flutter -of course that was because she had barely eaten all day. It had nothing at all to do with the dashing Lieutenant Jones.

A/N: If you have enjoyed this, please let me know what you think :)