A/N: Changing the rating to E, because smut in future chapters ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

chapter 2: the gallows

He woke up, dark eyes opening so wide they looked like they were bulging out of his sockets.

That was a disturbing dream...

He sat up, panting, and nervous sweat rolled down his face. He hair was thoroughly soaked as though he really did plunge into the depth of this dreamed up oceanic forest. The man placed a hand over his heaving chest, feeling like he had just run a mile, and he inhaled deeply in to calm his heaving body.

Satin sheet slipped down from his knee as he pulled one leg into a hug, and in an instant his mind wrestled between reality and fantasy as his hand found silky pillow and plush mattress. He looked around the room and made out the outline of his four-poster wooden bed, the transparent ivory valances, and a large, framed portrait of himself that was hung up recently. He was at home, in his bedroom, and he sighed in relief as he took comfort in the fact.

"Roy, are you feeling alright?" a raspy, feminine voice asked.

The woman placed a hand on his arm gently, caressing his skin with her index finger, feeling the swell of his veins. He turned around to face the woman lying down next to him. She had long, wavy brown hair, heavy lidded eyes, and a pretty face. She's not her.

She sat up, stroking the hair on the nape of his neck. He caught a whiff of her scent, smelling a garden of rose, which was perhaps the furthest thing away from that aromatic sea air. But if he could choose, he would rather wake up to that distinctive hint of shore.

The brunette nuzzled her lips into the crook of his neck, and he shuddered as he felt her hot breath on him.

She patted the pillow. "Darling, come back to bed. Please?"

But he was quiet, musing to himself, unmoving from his position.

She got on her knees and crawled on top of his body, gently stroking the red, angry mark on his abdomen. She knew how his recent battle scar was a sensitive spot, barely healed from the injury he received when he jumped off the fiery ship. But she also knew that when she caressed it, his body would respond obligingly. She brushed her lips on his chin, just lightly enough until it made the hairs on his arms rise. Her finger gingerly trailed over his jawline, placing soft kisses along the way, and she could feel his body stiffen.

He took a quick glance at the woman and cupped her cheek softly, ghosting a kiss on her mouth. He heard a seductive whimper escape her lips, and he flipped her over so that he was on top of her. She squealed from excitement as he surprised with a sudden change of position.

"Make love to me, darling?" she pleaded with a playful lilt, and her request sent the blood rushing to his groin.

He didn't say anything, but he complied, giving her a small smile as he placed mild kisses on her neck and down to her breasts.

The next morning…

"Your Majesty, your horse is ready."

The stoic soldier handed the reins to Roy, backing away slowly as Roy looped his foot on the stirrup and hoisted his body over the horse.

The prince had a wide smile on his face, ready to ride with an eagerness to see progress made to the harbor. But he halted his ride when he heard footsteps coming from behind him.

"Are you not going to kiss your fiancée goodbye?" She smiled sweetly, putting a hand on his leg. The corner of his mouth tugged into a smile, and he stooped down to close the distance between them as she tiptoed to kiss him. "Have a safe travel, okay?"

He merely nodded before pulling both his legs back, squeezing the reins and kicking the horse lightly with his heels, prompting it to buck and gallop forward.

The market square was busy, full of idle chatters of women and playing children while the hardworking men worked on rebuilding the shipyard.

The political unrest in the Kingdom of Amestris had been sparked by the sudden death of their king. The dock had been attacked while the armada sailed to sea to defend the seafront against the warships sent by the king's cousin who intended to seize the throne. Roy had sailed with his navy, meticulous battle strategy in place, and his ship went head to head with Bradley's. In a last-minute effort to achieve victory, Roy had commanded his fearful marines to flee, clutching to his own life as he stayed to commandeer the warship. The brave commander had emerged victorious, drowning Bradley in his own vessel, albeit endangering himself in the process. And yet he would do it again in a heartbeat.

Now that everything had settled down, Roy spent a copious amount of time with the dock rebuilding, fortifying it to its once glorious state. He needed to ensure they would no longer suffer serious setbacks from future insurgence, working relentlessly on the reconstruction project and the reinforcement of the kingdom's security. However, once the crisis was averted, the King's counsel rained downed Amestris's law on the prince before he could inherit the sovereignty. The ancient constitution stated that he must choose a wife approved by court officials to be legitimized as a successor.

He thought of Vanessa. She had known him since they were young, and she came from a lineage of dukes and duchesses, seemingly the perfect choice in the eyes of greying old men seated in the King's round table. But then he thought about last night and how the lips he kissed in his dream had felt wonderful, a puzzle piece fitted to complete his. It was the golden-haired woman's lips. A part of him was certain she had been the one who saved him that fateful night.

There was a commotion from the market, a man yelling from the crowd, and his rumination shattered in an instant.

"Men, the execution is about to begin!"

The workers at the shipyard rushed to the crowded market, running past Roy and his soldiers. This prompted Roy to gallop toward the mob, taking an interest in the local jurisdiction and how they governed their affairs. He looked curiously, pulling the reins on his horse as he approached the congregation in the center of the marketplace, and he stopped to watch the execution from afar.

Burlap sack covered the prisoner's head, hands cuffed behind his back, and an oversized robe was worn over his body. He was unlike any prisoners Roy had known, most of whom tried to escape by attempting to wriggle free or by screaming loudly and begging for mercy. Roy could see that the man on stage was standing still, body so calm without a single twist and squirm.

The hangman lifted the sack from the convict, and Roy had expected to see a man of frail stature, but he instead observed long, flaxen hair underneath belonging to a woman, body slumped in defeat and merely propped up by the executioner's grip.

Roy had wondered what she had done to deserve such judgment, but as he observed more carefully, he realized her face was one of familiarity. Her light brown, sunken eyes displayed fear, but in his vision they had been scintillating in the darkness. Her cheeks were dirty from soot and grime, but beneath it all he could see a fair and beautiful complexion. Her lips were chapped and cracked, like she hadn't been fed even a drop of water, dried blood marring the plumpness of her lips and smearing a dark purple color over what should have been a bright, healthy pink. His heart skipped a beat as his frantic mind recognized those features.

He had met her last night in his dream, recalling his flooding memory of frightened face and shiny blue fin that covered her legs. But what he saw was a fearful woman awaiting her death, without fins and above water. The prince paused, mouth gaping unattractively, and in the rare moment in his life he was scrambling for ideas, a plan to free this stranger.

Her hangman looped a thick, braided rope over her neck, tightening it roughly as the scribe recited her final confession, "She who had committed crime against the laws of the Kingdom of Amestris, my Lords have decreed and given sentence that she shall be condemned from life to death by rope."

He prodded his muddled brain, and yet the best plan he had was to yell from the distance.

"Stop! Stop the execution!"

The executioner continued. The crowd's obnoxious chant and loud cheering drowned his voice from reaching the stage.

"I COMMAND YOU TO STOP!" His voice boomed, alarming the onlookers in front of him.

The townspeople turned to look, surprised expression morphed into enthusiasm as they recognized the man behind the voice. They cleared way for him in an instant, creating a pathway wide enough for his horse to cross. He rode toward the stage in haste, his riding guards falling into step behind him, and he jumped off his horse as he approached the gallows.

The woman looked at him with shock, jaw hanging loose, body trembling with apprehension. Frightful tears formed in the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks. Roy studied her heart wrenching expression and smiled softly at her, hoping the gesture would provide a semblance of comfort. She mouthed something to Roy, and while he waited for that unmistakable timbre her lips produced no sound. He realized she must have been too startled from her current predicament, and he decided that rest and bath were what she needed. He carefully placed his hands on her waist, signaling to her to place her hands on his shoulders. She reluctantly placed them there, and he hastily hoisted her weak body onto his horse's saddle before joining her momentarily, leaving the observers to murmur gossip as he and his men returned to the castle.