It looks like I'm getting some interest on this story so I will go ahead and publish chapter two. Thank you to those who have followed this story, favorited already, or left feedback and reviews.

The Lucas cabin was not anywhere near the size of the palace, but it was a cozy home for the two women within walking distance of the inn and pub that they ran in one of the smaller villages. Nearly an 18 hour trek from where Emma had grown up, the family rarely visited and preferred to quarter and entertain the two women in a more royal location.

Red was standing in the doorway waiting for them, her thick dark hair cascading around her, as was her trademark red cloak that Emma knew she would wear for the duration of their stay. It had not been that long ago that Emma had been told of Red's other persona, her ability to turn into a wolf. The very idea had scared her until she saw it firsthand. However, the woman never intended to scare anyone and usually kept the protective cloak that prevented such transformations on her while she dealt with children like Leo.

"Aunt Red!" he called, flinging himself out of the carriage and into her waiting arms. She scooped him into a hug, grunting inelegantly at how big he had gotten.

Snow was next, kissing her friend's cheek and whispering something before the king was given a chance to greet the woman. It was only Emma who hung back, her nature of observing becoming quite obvious. She could see from her vantage point that Red looked quite drawn and tired, deep set circles under her eyes. From the letter that had arrived, it sounded as though the woman had become ragged looking after the inn and her grandmother both. When Emma's father asked after the older woman, Red simply smiled and pointed at the road they had just ridden down.

"She's working," the woman said with exasperation. "I tried to tell her not to but you know how she is. She'll work until the undertakers carry her out." Realizing what she had said, she shot the king an apologetic look.

"You take after her," Snow said, linking her arm through her friend's as the family entered the home. "Stubborn, both of you." There was a bit of chastising smugness in the queen's voice that was quickly brushed aside by her friend.

"Our bags," Emma muttered to her father, pointing at the wagon that followed their carriage. "Is it…"

"Perfectly safe," Red announced, twirling around to meet the younger woman's eyes. "You'll find that no one much comes around here. Except egg and chicken thieves." The two dark haired women giggled over that for some reason. "You'll have to watch yourself in town, but here in the country. You're safe. Between the solitude of this place and rumors about what goes on here, it's unlikely you'll see another soul."

Her mother nodded in agreement. "It's a peaceful life, Emma," she said, squeezing her friend's arm a bit tighter. "I love it here. And don't bother whispering. Red and her grandmother can hear like nobody you've ever met." Emma seemed to recall that from when the two women had caught she and Elsa merely discussing plans to sneak out one evening.

Leo was hopping from one foot to another as he stared up at the crossbow that hung over the fireplace. "Are we going hunting?"

Smiling, Red shook her head. "If we get Granny feeling better, maybe she can teach you." She pointed toward the table and told them all to make themselves comfortable around it. While the family shared a meal at least once a day, it had been a long time since it had been such an intimate affair. Ruby even carried out food to the drivers and guards that accompanied them. "I'll never feel right about all those people waiting on me. Better that it's you. You're used to it."

The conversation veered into topics that Emma wasn't sure she fully understood, names of people in the past, stories about when her parents were younger. However, she dutifully sat there and attempted to keep her brother from distracting the other adults too much. It had been so long since she had heard her parents laughing, their tenseness becoming a daily part of their lives around her. To see the easy smiles, affectionate gazes, and incidental touches was a bittersweet reminder of what she had lost.

"So your grandmother is expecting us?" King David said, stirring his bowl of soup with his spoon. "I'd think she'd protest the intrusion."

Red hesitated, breaking off another chunk of bread for Leo. "I told her that the two of you wanted some time alone and that Emma and Leo would be staying with us for a few days." Her smile was not as bright as it was before. "I'm sorry to hear about your father, David, but I thought…"

"Emma will be a great help to you," the queen said reassuringly, not quite meeting her daughter's curious gaze. "This will allow you to get some rest and Granny too. You both need that."

***AAA***

Granny watched suspiciously as the dark haired pirate tossed a shiny gold coin onto the counter. "I thought I told you to be gone," she said sternly, her hand darting out to snatch at the money before someone else did. "I saw the royal carriages go by not more than an hour ago."

"I have already sent most of my crew on," Killian answered sweetly. "You would barely even know that we're here."

Not quite sure that she understood why it was taking so long, she glared at what most would assume to be a charming smile. "I mean for you to be gone not partially gone."

"Of course, milady," the man answered, the thud of his hooked hand loud against the metal edge of the wooden bar. His hook was loose in the brace, something else he'd have to address. Not even flinching, he dislodged it and shoved it into the pocket of his coat. "If we could set sail today, we would. However, your best merchants were not able to procure the new sail I need in time. It should not be more than a day or two in delay. And as I said, I have removed most of my crew back to the ship. We will only need…"

The older woman added a guttural growl to her grimace. Though not scared of too many creatures on land or sea, the woman's reaction gave the pirate pause and his smile faltered a little bit. "A few days?" she asked with narrow dark eyes.

"Aye, but we could camp toward the edge of town if that is too much of an inconvenience."

"Be gone with you," the woman said after telling him she might have to charge more for the inconvenience but he could keep the few rooms that he had rented. "I don't have time for my staff to be enthralled by your wild tales of the sea. There must be something for you to do in town."

***AAA***

It was customary for ladies to take afternoon naps, but Emma quickly realized that such a luxury was not really afforded to women outside the aristocratic walls of the palace. Even her mother was gathering eggs and sweeping the floors with a thatch broom in her elegant gown. Though she had never really done such things, Emma had spent enough time in the kitchens and servants' areas that she knew the processes and followed suit. She fetched the water, checked on the fence that kept the cows out of the small garden that the women tended, and helped fill the straw mattresses that she and her brother would use in the main room of the cabin.

When Ruby declared that they were all in need of a break, Emma was immensely grateful. She had not been a child for several years, but the allure of her brother's freedom seemed to be strong as she tried not to completely collapse on one of the unpadded chairs. Leo had avoided the work that Emma and her parents had performed, wandering off along the creek that eventually ran into a river to collect rocks and twigs that he proclaimed he would turn into his own house someday.

"You'll have your own palace," King David had explained as he mended one of the sections of fence that Red had said was weak. "You won't need to build a house." He looked affectionately at his son's exuberant smile.

"Then it will be my summer home," the boy answered back, causing his father to chuckle.

"Perhaps you'll be finished with it when your mother and I return," he told him, looking somewhat disturbed that he was having to say goodbye temporarily to his son. "You will need to watch after your sister while we're gone."

The sandy haired boy considered this for a moment, dropping his collection of building materials at his father's feet. "She won't be in charge?"

The King chuckled brightly, squatting down to be at eye level with his son. "She's older so she will think she is, but your sister can be a bit impulsive and reckless when she is under stress. You must help to keep her in line, son. That's what a gentleman would do. You will help her without her ever knowing it."

The little boy frowned. "But if she doesn't know, then what good is it?" He was getting older, but the idea of doing good without reward was still beyond him.

"That," David said, tapping his son's chest, "is the sign of a gentleman and a leader. You don't have to take credit for everything. You can take joy at knowing you're a good person without the applause and accolades. It's easy to do good things when everyone is patting you on the back, son, but to do it when nobody is watching…that's even better."

***AAA***

The shadows from the trees that surrounded the cabin had not grown too long when Red announced that she would need to carry supplies to the inn for her grandmother. "If I don't, she'll attempt that walk again on her own. It's just too much for her to travel to the farm, carry the supplies back to the inn, and then come back again late tonight. I should go." She looked reluctantly at the scene around them.

David and Leo had found a clearing not far from the house where they sparing with the wooden swords they used for practice as Emma read from one of the books she had packed for the trip. From her spot inside the cozy little keeping room of the cabin, Emma could hear her mother and Red discussing something as the horses rested for the rest of the journey. She had tuned out most of the conversation when she heard their hostess make this statement.

Emma covered her mouth to hide a delicate yawn, closing her book over the leather bookmark. "I could go, if you would like," she said, startling the two women who had clearly forgotten that she was even there. "The fresh air would do me a world of good."

Her mother's mouth opened to protest, but it was Red that spoke up with a gentle reminder that Emma did not yet know her way in the woods.

"I rode the path earlier," Emma said with a little wave of her hand. "I'll be fine. And it will be good practice for me to be of use to you." Her hands smoothed over the traveling dress she wore, a plain blue colored frock that she would normally not wear to call upon the other royal or aristocratic families that her parents were required to visit. However, Snow had insisted that her wardrobe be practical for the trip and reminded her that she was not there as a guest.

"I suppose you're right," the woman said, glancing uneasily at the Queen. "Let me show you where we keep everything. You'll need to make a few stops."

***AAA***

Emma stopped at the small farm on the outskirts of town, as Red had described to her. The fields were freshly tilled and the house still smelled a bit musty from being shut up all winter long, but Emma waited patiently for the man and his wife to gather a few dried herbs that they sold to Granny for the pub that was housed under a few rooms she let for rent.

As a princess Emma was used to people coming to her family to sell things, dress makers coming to her room and measuring her, horses brought for her father's inspection, and even food was delivered according to very specific orders.

"You're a friend of Red's?" the man asked, his tan face almost leathery.

"My mother is," Emma answered, her hand resting on her younger brother's shoulder. Leo had not been about to let his sister go off for an adventure without him. He had scampered after her down the path like a puppy after its mother. While their mother had called out for him to return, Emma had simply waved and then draped an arm over the boy. She wouldn't have minded the company had he been able to stand still. However, he was already bored with the standing about as she conversed with the villagers. Shifting from one foot to the other, he looked ready to bolt.

"The Lucas women are good people," the man said with a nod to his own wife. "Good people, I tell you."

The woman nodded back emphatically. Tying off another bunch of the herbs. "Good people."

"How long you been staying there?" the man asked, reminding Emma of a cow chewing its cud with the way his jaw seemed always in motion.

"Just arrived today," Emma answered, accepting another bunch and placing it in the leathery satchel. "We'll be here a week or two at least."

"Great place to say," he said, not really acknowledging her words. "Were you here for the ruckus?"

"Ruckus?"

"Yes, that group of royals and their entourage. Shook the earth with all those horses and trampled almost everything in their path. No regard for anyone, I tell you. They looked to be heading out toward the Lucas place. Did you see them?"

Emma's hand trembled as she grabbed the next bunch of the sweet smelling herb. "I'm sorry I…"

"Didn't miss a thing, I tell you," the man continued. "I hear they are idiots, every last one of them. That's what happens with royals. They marry their cousins and none of them are quite right." The sneer on his face was almost comical. "Idiots, all of them." He ranted for a few more minutes about political decisions and

Her stomach churning, Emma thanked them and paid what Red had instructed, dashing out onto the path to town before she could replay the man's words about her family.

***AAA***

Red helped her friend with the trunk that was Emma's, hanging a few of the dresses on a nail behind a curtain. It wasn't the wardrobe she was used to at the palace, but it would do as her own space for a little while.

"She seemed quieter," Red mused, holding out a yellow dress to the queen. "Sadder, almost."

"It took quite a toll on her," Snow agreed.

"Any word from him? Baelfire?"

The Queen appeared teary eyed as she told of the man's disappearance. "It's the oddest thing. One day he was there and then poof. It was as if he was squired away by magic. I understand that he was going to see his father."

Letting the red cape droop a bit around her shoulders, Red shook her head knowingly. "That's all you have to say. Rumpelstiltskin is at the bottom of this. Mark my words." She had been around long enough to know and have a few of her own run ins with the man known as the Dark One. Invincible and immortal, the man was power hungry and ruthless. He'd been alive for centuries. Yet how his son had come back at the tender age of 22, nobody knew. The last known sighting of him had been nearly 200 years before when he was a young lad and his the apple of his father's eye.

"And the other," the Queen's voice cracked. "I could ring his neck for having left her in such a way."

"She no doubt blames herself. I know that Emma has always been headstrong and willful, but she surely feels she disappointed you by running off with him. And now to pretend like it never happened." The Queen looked longingly at her husband speaking to one of the drivers through the window. "Emma deserves a happy ending, but I don't know how to get her to that."

"So much grief for that young girl," Ruby echoed.

***AAA***

"I should have it ready by tomorrow," the man said, lifting the silver colored hook up to inspect it. Looks to be a simple fix, but it will require some effort. And I've got two of the king's horses to reshod before I can even think about it."

Killian thanked the man, wincing at the feel of his arm without its near constant accessory. He missed the weight of it, the feeling that all was not lost when he had lost his hand. More than that, he missed the sensation that he felt when people stared, that intimidating fear that was evoked by letting it fall into the sight line of some would be foe. The intrigue it raised wasn't bad either. He had lost count at the number of women who asked him about it, rubbing suggestively along its curve as they spoke.

Making his way along the dirt path from the bakery to the blacksmith, he felt the warm spring wind blowing a bit sharper and could smell the scent of fresh rain on the way. His father had once told him that the scent of rain was always perceptible at least 20 minutes before a storm, one of the few things that the man had ever bothered to teach him all those years ago. The rest of his memories of his father could be summed up simply as abandonment.

The woman from the bakery was still smiling at him, the laces of her dress a bit looser as she bent forward to give him a view. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her blatant attempt, knowing that he was not in short supply of willing women. But like much of his existence, they were simply distractions from his tasks and worth very little after a few physical appreciations. So being the man that he was, he gifted her with a smile and nod before returning to the task of finding someone to repair the metal bracket of his brace. It was odd enough to not be in his usual leathers and black, as he had left most of that for the crew to wash while he saw to other matters. He was sure he almost looked like his naval days in the cream colored pants and a simple matching shirt. He had not bothered with a waistcoat or cravat, as he had no intention of attracting or charming anyone.

His one hand reached out to brush against the leather brace, a habit he had not ever given up after all these years. He'd had his hook in place of a hand for longer than he cared to remember. It's cold steel the result of an underestimation when it came to dealing with the Dark One. The pain of losing his hand was an ache that still pulsed at times, but greater still was what else the leathery faced man took from him. The hook was more than a weapon, more than a tool. It was part of him now, an appendage same as any other. The lightness of his left arm felt odd without the weight of it.

He might have considered that more as he walked along if the fat raindrops he had predicted did not start to fall at just that moment. It was in those first few drops that he realized he had left his coat at the blacksmith's as well, having felt too hot near the fire to stand the heaviness of the leather. He would retrieve it later, he thought as he continued along. The few people on the path scattered like rats and he scanned for a doorway or overhang himself. That was when he saw her, the pale haired woman with a young lad, who could not have been more than six. Her flaxen hair was damp from the rain but it did nothing to hide the sharp features of her face. She was leaned forward, securing a pack to the boy's shoulder, unaware that she was being observed. As she straightened, she pushed back her wet hair and leaned against the building that housed some sort of professional office.

The young boy whipped past Killian with a word from the woman about going to straight to Granny's, his small feet splattering the pirate with a puddle of water. And even with his fast pace, Killian could see that the lad shared features with her from the cut of his dimpled chin to the fresh green of his eyes that seemed to mimic waving grass. As Killian stepped closer to the woman he could not help but notice how young she seemed, her skin not marred with years of field work and drudgery. Assuming that she must be the lad's mother, he appraised that she had been a young bride herself and probably had two more at home just like him. However, he noticed there was no ring on her hand and no line where one had been recently.

"Good day to you," he said when he was within speaking distance, giving her a bit of a bow that seemed over the top. "You have found one of the few dry spots I see."

She regarded him suspiciously, clearly startled to be addressed in such a way. "I see you weren't as lucky." Her eyes were scanning him, seeing the way the water was matting his hair.

His eyes were the bluest she had ever seen, rimmed with thick dark lashes that matched his equally striking hair. There was something both inviting and naughty about his smile, as if he might be able to read her inner most thoughts, lines crinkling around his eyes his eyebrows arched suggestively. She found herself feeling quite flushed just considering his features.

"Pleasure," he said, his head bowing toward her as he brushed the back of her hand with his lips briefly. "I hope you are not too inconvenienced by the weather."

Her mouth gaped open as he stepped back, his right hand lingering on hers for a moment longer than necessary. "It's fine," she stammered, trying to recall why she was even there in the small village. "I'm Emma." It seemed such a simple name as she said it, a shorter version of a long string of names given to her to celebrate her heritage. Just four letters to sum up her existence, the name felt easy coming off her lips.

"Emma," he repeated, softly saying the name as though he might be trying to memorize it. "I'm Killian." He had not introduced himself as such in years, preferring the fear that his moniker of Captain Hook parlayed. Truthfully, he had not heard anyone call him by his given name in years, his moniker having grown into more than a nickname. Sometimes he wondered if anyone really knew who he was other than a fearsome pirate with an enchanted ship. He wondered if he remembered himself.

"The lad seemed in a hurry."

Her face turned from the man in front of her to stare through the drops of rain at the inn at the end of the street. "We wanted to get the herbs and other things to Granny before she came looking for them," she explained, squinting to watch her little brother duck into the building with the older woman holding out a towel for him.

"A good granddaughter you are then," Killian said with a wink that seemed more habitual than planned. "I would have avoided the weather myself if I was a lovely young lass such as yourself."

Having grown up as she did, she was not used to men so bold as Killian. Most of the men who had approached her had been more apt to impress her father to win her favor. The lone exception being Baelfire. She smiled weakly at the man, noticing the dark smudges on his face from where the rain had smeared the kohl he often wore around his eyes. To her it appeared the evidence of a hardworking man and not that of someone intent upon intimidating his foes. "Granny is important to me," she answered finally.

"As I said, you're a good granddaughter and she is a lucky woman." There was a question in his voice as he said it, as if he wanted to say more but was unsure how she might take it. She was younger than he would have thought to have a young lad of her own, but that did not matter to him. While she was dripping with rainwater, she was certainly beautiful. Her hair thick and probably with natural wave as he saw it flowing down her back. It was unusual to see a young woman of any status wear her hair down, but he liked the effect that it had by creating a softness and innocence about her. "Your boy is alright on his own?"

She looked a bit startled by the question, which he couldn't quite understand with the circumstances. "Uh…he's…"

"I suppose he is anxious to prove his independence," the man said with a chuckle. His whole chest seemed to move with the laugh, which drew her eyes to way the shirt was a bit too unbuttoned and the thin fabric clung to his muscles. "I know at his age I was desperate for people to see me as more than a nuisance who followed his older brother about."

Drawing in a breath, she tried not to read too much into the man's words, studying the weather instead. The steady downpour seemed unwilling to let up, water splashing up from the ground and dotting the skirt of her dress. It was just a travel dress, thin cotton over layers of muslin with a few simple buttons and no ruffles or lace. "I think I should go to him," she said, eyeing the sky carefully as if it might give some sort of timetable for her best chance of an escape. "It seems to be letting up."

Just as the words left her mouth, the rain fell at a heavier pace, obscuring even the view of the inn through the curtain of water. Killian smiled at her as one would a deranged person. "I wouldn't recommend it. The lad is safe enough with the Widow Lucas. She'll let no harm come to him. She is your 'granny' is she not?"

Emma realized the truth behind his words, as the woman was probably more capable of a caregiver than half of the castle staff. She would not let Leo goad her into candies and sweets as he did with Snow and Johanna. Knowing Granny, she was already fitting him for a broom to do floor duty in the pub. "She's everyone's grandmother," Emma said pointedly, not wanting to stake claim to a family that wasn't her own. "But yes, she is probably having him unpack that satchel now. He'll have a blast until we go home."

"And where is home?" he asked, picking up on the signs that her eyes lit with something akin to pride when she spoke of the boy. "In this village?"

Maybe it was the fatigue of travel but she answered quite vaguely that she was living in a cabin not far from town. The realization that he did not notice her royal insignia on the necklace she wore was both intriguing and comforting in a strange sort of way. It was as though he could see past it, see her as a woman instead of a title.

"I suppose you will head back soon then," he said, clearly reaching a bit to continue the conversation. She was not offering much in return but still he trudged forward. "I was hoping you might share a drink with me at the pub. I'm sure your grandmother would not mind watching the lad for a bit if…"

Emma's smile fell, knowing that a drink with a man was out of the question for someone like her. She had heard Red speak of such encounters, but she had yet to experience them herself. The very thought made her a bit nervous. "I'm afraid not," she said softly.

If he was taken aback by her rejection, he did not show it. Lifting her hand, the left one this time with his right, he paused. "I didn't see a wedding ring. Was I mistaken?"

"I'm not married," she answered quickly, not sure why it mattered to her so much that he know she was not attached. "I'm…"

"I'm sorry," he said, the two words not coming easily to a man who rarely apologized. "I shouldn't have been so forward." He looked out toward the muddy roadway and knit his brow together thoughtfully. "I don't even have my jacket to lay across that puddle for you, love."

She half laugh and half scoffed at his words. "You are not required to be a gentleman to me, sir." She hated that aspect of her life, the fake sincerity of people, the manners that they did not really mean. Killian had seemed so bold before, so real.

"Oh but I'm always a gentleman," he said, again winking the one eye. "I could see about a wagon for your trip home to make it easier. I know someone at the livery."

"We will be fine," Emma said. "It was nice to meet you, Killian."

***AAA***

"This weather is dreadful," Granny announced when she saw Emma enter the kitchen door. "Not fit for man out there."

Emma bunched the blonde hair over one shoulder and she twisted it as dry as she could with her hands. "I like the rain when I can sit and read in the library," she announced, wistfully considering the last time she had been there. "It's peaceful to hear it against the window."

"Well," the older woman huffed, one hand on her hip and the other stirring a large pot of something, "it isn't peaceful here. Rain means mess. I'll spend all evening mopping up these floors after the scoundrels drag in the mud."

The woman fussed over Emma as much as she could, offering her food and drink that the princess refused. Even through the careful attention, Emma could see the tiredness on Granny's face. There were dark circles under her eyes and a haze to her usually clear complexion. Twice the princess saw the woman teeter as though her balance was not as it should be. "Where did you stuff Leo?" Emma asked, following the woman into the storage pantry that rivaled many of the servants' bedrooms at the palace. "He's too quiet."

Again the elderly woman smiled knowingly at the young woman and pointed with her elbow at the boy. He was kneading a bit of dough that she had broken off for him. His small but sure hands were making shapes out of it as though it were clay.

"I'll have to remember that trick," Emma said, fascinated that something had caught her brother's attention so well. "He's usually into everything."

"Did someone say something to him?"

Emma turned her body from the shelves of jarred vegetables and dry goods. "People here in town don't seem to like our mother and father so much. I thought…I thought they were loved and revered. People who come to the palace all speak so highly of them."

The Widow Lucas was never accused of being overly affectionate, but she pulled the princess into a hug. "That's what happens when people come to power. We admire them for the struggle and then tear them down in the reality. Sad really. But don't you worry. There are still plenty of people who love and adore those parents of yours. They are good people. Good leaders. And you'll be just like them someday. A loud noise from the dining area caught the attention of the proprietress, her skirts swishing as she darted out to check on the status of her furniture and servingware. She gave a few loud directions followed by a foot stomp and she was back in business. "Pirates," she muttered.

"Pirates?" Emma asked, her green eyes widening. "Here?"

The woman's eyes softened and then narrowed on the young lady. "Don't you be getting any ideas. Those men are dangerous and not suitable for the likes of you."

I would love to know what you are thinking and feeling about this story. What would you like to see? What do you think should happen?