A/N And because there are always two sides to a story, even the beginning of one, here is the second chapter.
Disclaimer: I make no claim to the recognisable characters in this story.
Lieutenant Killian Jones wonders if this is his punishment for spending too much time watching the princess earlier in the day. Liam had noticed and made a comment about him keeping his eyes on his duties, which Killian had thought was more than a little unnecessary. It wasn't like he was standing there, staring blankly at her like a lovesick boy. But she was certainly…different to anything they normally carried on the Jewel of the Realm and, really, any distraction was welcome when they were merely serving as some kind of pleasure craft for the whims of the royal family. It was hardly a taxing voyage.
But he had, he supposed, been the only one aboard to see the princess tossed overboard during the storm, so there had been that small benefit. Although once in the water with her trying to drown herself and bellowing on about the bloody 'boat' being in the other direction, he didn't feel it to be much of a benefit at all. He felt it even less now that they were sitting in a damp, dark cave in the middle of a storm.
Under other circumstances, he might have enjoyed being in such close proximity to a girl who was certainly pleasant to look at. He didn't get to see many girls at all, and he'd touched even fewer, and none of them looked anything like Princess Emma. But the moment was marred by many things, one of them being the gnawing worry in his gut.
He'd been short with her earlier, demanding some kind of gratitude for saving her. He's unsure whether that's something he's going to regret later, when it comes back to bite him. Probably he need only worry about such a thing happening if they are, by some miracle, still alive in the morning. Making it through the following day had even slimmer odds.
He feels responsible for her now, and utterly hopeless with it. He was used to being only responsible for himself, and the ship, and his men…but in each case he always had Liam there to back him up. In this, he was alone. Well, save for the princess he was currently trying to warm up.
It sounded like the start of a particularly ribald joke, but Killian couldn't have felt less like laughing. The responsibility for the girl in his arms weighs on him as heavily as the water-soaked dress the princess was wearing did on her. But as much as he wanted to, Killian couldn't suggest she remove it. He just hopes that she doesn't freeze to death on him because of it. He takes off his own water-logged waist-coat but leaves his shirt on, despite the way it clings to his torso like cold, damp seaweed.
They might be alone, in a cave and in danger of freezing, but something tells him that the princess isn't likely to appreciate him stripping half-naked in front of her.
But merely rubbing her arms doesn't seem to be warming her up any. The princess is so cold that it's like touching a fish. Or, worse, a mermaid. He shudders at the thought of running into one of those terrifying creatures.
"You're cold too," the princess murmurs, and it startles him because he had, momentarily at least, forgotten she was an actual person there, with him. He'd been lost in his own thoughts and keeping up the motion of his hands out of habit.
"I'll live," he replies, hoping that what he's said is a true statement.
"Of course you will," the princess replies, a little tetchily. "Because you're just going to run off."
"No. I'm not." Killian is more than a little hurt that the princess would assume he'd rescue her, only to abandon her. If he'd wanted to do that, he wouldn't have jumped into the bloody sea after her in the first place.
"Well, you might," she insists. "If you're just going to stand around and watch me get eaten."
He's confused by that statement for a moment, until it dawns on him that she's referencing his earlier comment. "You think I wouldn't at least try to keep hold of the princess I fished from the sea?" he asks.
"I don't know. Would you?" The princess' voice sounds almost arch, but the effect is a little marred by the noticeable chattering of her teeth. Although that sound is in danger of being drowned out by the loud rumble coming from his own stomach, Killian notices with dismay.
"Yes," he says, as decisively as he can. "I would."
"Good."
There is silence for a moment, and then Killian's stomach rumbles again, loudly. "Although," the princess adds. "I'm slightly worried now that you might devour me."
Under other circumstances her attempt at humour might seem almost flirtatious, but there was nothing in their current situation that made him think that the princess in any way wanted him…like that. "I think you're safe," he murmurs, growing a little uncomfortable with the conversation all the same.
"Mmm," the princess replies, thoughtfully. "Don't sailors turn to cannibalism when they're shipwrecked?"
"I like to think I'm capable of waiting a little longer than a few hours before I start on that. And anyway, technically we weren't shipwrecked." He wonders if the Jewel has found any shelter from the storm yet, and if they've noticed that he and the princess are missing. It wasn't something he particularly enjoyed, thinking of his ship sailing on without him.
He might almost prefer to keep talking about cannibalism. And then something occurs to him. "Are you trying to distract me?" he asks.
"A little." Her voice is very quiet now. "It usually works."
"With who?"
"Oh. My brothers and sisters. They take a lot of distracting."
Killian isn't sure whether to be flattered that she is considerate enough of his feelings to bother trying to distract him, or insulted that she's treating him like a child. But he can't help but miss the sadness in her voice as she talks about her family. There'd been another princess on the ship, and he hopes that she's had the sense to tell at least one member of the crew about her sister's sudden disappearance.
"Does your broth…uh, Captain Jones do that? Distract you?" she asks in a small voice. He doesn't really want to discuss his relationship with Liam, complicated as it is by naval protocol.
"I suppose…he would distract me by putting me on watch. It's a boring job, but you're stuck there."
"Is that what he did tonight?"
"Yes." He hopes very much that her line of questioning will stop there, as he doesn't want to be pressed into admitting just what it was that Liam was trying to distract him from.
The princess seems to have run out of verbal distractions, however, and conversation lapses. Killian keeps up his ministrations on her arms, wishing he could find it in him to suggest that she shift closer and they share some body heat. Or even just have the courage to move closer to her and assume she wouldn't rebuff him. But even in their current state he simply isn't brave enough to hear the inevitable insults she'll throw his way should she assume that he is trying to take advantage of her. It was bad enough when she'd assumed he was trying to impersonate his brother. Killian should have known that she hadn't a clue who he was…but even so. It somehow rankles a little that she assumed there was only one Jones on board.
Better, though, to be thought an imposter than someone who'd take advantage of a maiden.
The only sounds are the rain and the sea outside, and the chattering of teeth inside the cave. Killian is now so cold and tired that his brain begins to shut down and he isn't really thinking any longer. He just wants the night to be over.
"How long do you think? Until morning?" the princess asks, suddenly, jolting him back to a more wakeful state.
"Hours, yet. I think." He wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd stopped paying attention to everything.
He feels some movement from the princess and he guesses that perhaps she's nodded. In some ways he's glad that it's pitch black in the cave as he doesn't think he'd like to gaze at her worried face and know there's nothing he can do to make it better.
"I don't suppose you know any…magic?" Killian ventures.
The princess sighs sadly, and he's struck with the notion that it was entirely the wrong question to ask her. "I don't," she says, a little sharply. There's a pause, during which Killian wonders if he should apologise, before the princess speaks again. "Everyone thought I would just…have magic. Because of my parents, and the fact they're true love. But I didn't. Despite the years of watching me closely to see what I would do. It did become tiresome." She sighs again. "Really, if you want magic then we need my baby sister, Elsa. Although I can't say that she'd do much to improve the temperature in here."
Killian wished he'd never asked about magic now that he'd heard the sadness in her voice as she gave him her answer. Really, it was a stupid thing to even bring up. Surely if she had a way out of this situation she would have utilised it by now?
He feels like an idiot and it's all he can do not to drag himself off to some far corner of the cave and hang his head in shame. It's only the fact that he doesn't want to be held responsible if something should happen to her that keeps him sitting where he is.
She shivers again and he realises he's just going to have to be brave. "We need to keep warmer." He shifts his body closer to the princess.
"How?" she whispers, as he shifts a little closer again, so that his chest is now in contact with her back. "Oh." She sounds surprised, and he waits to find out if that's a good or a bad thing.
"It's a long time until morning," he reiterates, hoping she'll see his logic. Truthfully, as much as he may have wanted to touch her under other circumstances, he's now far too concerned with their survival to find much pleasure in the current situation.
At least, that's what he's telling himself.
"Yes," the princess agrees, quietly, and while he isn't entirely sure whether she's agreeing with his assessment of the time, or allowing him to touch her, he decides that she's given her assent.
"You're cold too." He feels her hands tentatively begin rubbing his legs, which are now either side of her body. He resumes doing the same to her arms.
It helps a little, being closer, but there is no denying that they are both still hungry, cold, and trapped in their wet clothing. And while their first priority is just surviving the night, he can't help but worry about what will happen if they are still alive in the morning.
The princess' thoughts are clearly working along the same lines. "What will we do tomorrow?" she asks.
Killian hasn't really thought that far ahead. And he isn't sure what made him the authority, anyway. After all, he's spent years on a ship without ever once falling overboard. He hasn't had to deal with this situation before.
"I think…" he begins, when it becomes clear that the princess is still waiting for an answer. "That we will do our best to ascertain our location and start procuring the items we'll need to survive until we can…" Killian pauses, trying to think of what would come next. Or, rather, trying to work out what Princess Emma wants to hear come next. Rescue, probably. He would certainly be glad if there was the possibility of a rescue party appearing on the horizon.
But he fears, quite greatly, that there isn't.
"Get home?" the princess ventures, quietly.
"Aye." Home sounds a long way off about then.
"How far is it?"
This was a question Killian has been dreading. He has no idea, not really, but his suspicions are not happy ones. "It's…it will be a journey. So, tomorrow we'll try to find food, and perhaps some shelter. After that we'll…assess the situation." Deflecting the princess's questions is proving to be a more difficult task than he's anticipated. He hopes that she'll stop asking them because, eventually, he's going to run out of acceptable answers and he'll be forced to tell her the truth.
They are a long way from home, possibly in an enemy kingdom, and there is very little chance of rescue.
"I shall need better travelling clothes," the princess half-whispers, and he finds himself agreeing although he has no idea what he is agreeing to. While he supposes that the gown she's wearing isn't all that practical, women's garments are not something he knows much about. He will have to trust the princess on the validity of this point.
"And better footwear. These slippers…" She pauses. "I slipped off the boat because of them. They are poorly constructed but aptly named." She sighs loudly and the fact that she's so annoyed at her footwear and busy blaming her shoes for the foolhardiness on her part which saw her swept off the ship in a storm makes him not even want to correct her out loud. Only in his head does he amend her words to include the term ship.
"Also, I will need some rags," she announces, still sounding annoyed. This statement, however, confuses him utterly.
"Rags?"
"Yes. I'm bleeding."
She's spoken so matter-of-factly that he wonders for a moment if he has misheard her. But he hasn't and he soon wishes that there is some light in the cave because he needs to see her injury. "Where are you hurt? How bad is it?" The words tumble out in a rush and he's pushing aside the desire to investigate with his hands and see if he can find the source of this mysterious bleeding.
"What? Oh. No. I'm not hurt." She's dismissive of his assumption but that simply makes him all the more confused. "It's just…the monthly bleeding. You know."
Killian does know, in theory. But the reality is something he's simply never encountered. Rags? "Oh." His voice comes out a lot higher than he would like, so he swallows and tries again. "Of course."
"I suppose you're not used to women." He can't tell if that's a statement or a question on her part. It's true nonetheless. "I'm not really used to…men," she adds. "I guess that makes us a good pair."
"I suppose it does." He doesn't really believe that though, as he can't imagine being stranded with anyone with whom he has less in common than this strange and bewitching creature. He doesn't particularly want to think about just how bewitching she is, though, so instead comments "I'm just glad we haven't fallen over any giants yet."
"Giants?"
"They…uh…" Killian realises suddenly that his joke might be in poor taste and hesitates. The princess, however, urges him to finish, with a rather too eager "Yes?"
He sighs and mumbles "Smell blood," regretting ever starting down this conversational road. Hypothetical creatures that might eat them were one thing; real-life creatures lured by…well, he doesn't want to dwell on that because it's where he ended up in difficulty to start with.
She'll think he's an arse and she won't be all that wrong.
"Yes," she agrees, although her voice sounds a little high and tense. "That would be terribly bad."
Killian is unsure how exactly to get himself out of the hole he's managed to dig. He isn't fit to converse with any woman, let alone a princess. "But we'll be alright, on the morrow," he ventures.
He hopes she takes that as the apology it was meant to be, because he doesn't think he can come up with a better one right then. He's tired, and cold and hungry and he can't figure out which of these feelings is the most pressing at that moment. The world inside the cave is already dark, but now it's starting to swirl and he hopes that the princess doesn't say anything for a while because he just needs a minute to gather his thoughts so he doesn't babble like an idiot again.
He drifts, like he's floating on the ocean, and then he's gone.
Thanks for reading!