The noise level in the small naval barracks Killian and Liam shared had reached such a level, it was shocking the King's Guard hadn't forced their way in yet. On the floor, an even layer of shattered glass and broken debris cluttered the ground, as Lieutenant Jones stood at the center, his torso swiveling from side to side, surveying for his next object of destruction.
"This is oh, so productive," Liam deadpanned, arms crossed against his chest as he stood at the sidelines.
Killian glared at his brother, in no mood for sarcasm. The desperation clawing at him from the inside demanded release, and Killian couldn't remember a time he'd felt more frantic. Not even in those bleak, dark days after their father's departure, when two young boys had had no idea how they would feed or clothe or care for one another, when it seemed love itself had walked out the door, could he recall feeling this absolutely devastated.
Killian reached for a picture frame on the wall, aiming it with all his might at the door, where it exploded into a hundred broken pieces. Killian was almost moved to laughter, realizing it was the first time in his life he could relate to an inanimate object.
The door in question suddenly opened, momentarily pausing the furniture slaughter.
"Your majesty," Liam exclaimed, instantly dropping to one knee and ducking his head. Killian just gaped, so taken aback by the visual image of King Charming here, in his personal lodgings. The lieutenant's shock lasted merely a moment, before his sense of decorum kicked in and he dropped to a knee as well.
"Majesty," Killian whispered on a shaky breath.
"Stand up, both of you," the King said quickly, moving into the room and dismissing the guards that had accompanied him. Charming closed the door, leaving the trio in privacy. Looking about the space for even one still-functioning chair, the monarch realized his poor luck, settling instead to sit on the bed at one far end of the room.
"I don't suppose you have any liquor stashed here, boys?"
Killian blinked rapidly, still trying to make sense of this royal presence in his room. Keep liquor...in a naval barracks? Poor form, that would be. Killian shook his head slowly in response.
"Not like we'd have any unbroken glasses to serve you with anyhow," Liam muttered, earning a short laugh from the king, before the royal leader's expression turned grim.
"Am I to pretend I don't know what's upset you?"
Killian regarded his king, the question clearly meant for him. As if he would ever presume to share his petty, misguided hurts of the heart with the ruler of all of Mist Haven and the Enchanted Forest.
"I don't know what you mean," Killian replied quietly.
"So be it," Charming said quickly. "But there are serious matters afoot, and I need to know where the two of you stand."
"Majesty?"
Charming closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before opening them again and speaking in ernest.
"I won't speak for Emma, but there were...reasons that led to this engagement." The King paused at Killian's not-so-subtle grimace. "While I support my daughter and her choices, I'll not send her into this new chapter unguarded. I'd like you to go with her."
The lunacy of the statement sung in Killian's ears, choking him in its irony.
"You want me to deliver Emma to her future husband?"
The King stepped forward, placing a weighty hand on the younger man's shoulder, staring into his eyes with just a hint of pity and even...faith.
"Killian," he started, trying to force the lieutenant to meet his gaze. "Look at me, son."
The endearment startled Killian, freezing him in place as this man, his king, beseeched him-the man he had sworn to serve all the days of his life, the man that had picked him up out of sure ruin and placed him again on the path of favor, the man who looked sideways that year he and Emma had run afoul of one of Snow's favorite vases, who had snuck him one extra pastry after lights out, the man he had hoped to call something so much more dear, the man who had been a father in every sense of the word save one...
"I need you with her."
Killian closed his eyes at his King's words, knowing already with absolute clarity that he would do that which was asked of him.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
She found him the next morning in the library, as she knew she would. Growing up as he did in the palace meant Killian knew his way around and her mother and father had always urged him to treat the place as his own, a decree he constantly ignored. Decorum was always at the forefront of Killian's demeanor, even when they were children. It was only once they had escaped the confines of the castle that he felt free to run and jump and play as a small one should, feeling he was finally on equal ground with his royal playmate. Thinking on it now, Emma could almost see him scampering ahead of her, a devilish smile thrown over his shoulder as he climbed some hill, shouting, "Keep up, lass!"
Yes, Emma knew very well that Killian Jones had a passionate streak, but here, in the castle, he was always the picture of respect. That is, unless he was inside the library.
"You look comfortable," she said finally, taking in his slouched position, legs propped carelessly atop a low table and a massive tome in his hands. Hearing her voice, he immediately jolted, sitting up so fast the large book fell to the floor with a clammer.
Killian stooped to pick the book up, a quiet "my apologies, highness" on his tongue, as Emma moved to bend and help him. Their fingers brushed and Killian forcibly repelled back from her as if shocked, leaving Emma still holding on to the volume.
"I didn't mean to startle you, it was just a joke," she said with a small smile and shrug. "You're perfectly free to be in here. It is your favorite room, after all."
"No, you're right, it isn't fit for me to be lounging about," he replied, still looking down and straightening the royal emblem at his breast pocket. Looking down herself Emma spied for the first time the title on the book Killian was reading; Traditions and Titles: A Guide to Life and Culture in the Seven Isles.
"You disappeared quickly last night," she said finally, her fingers trailing over the words on the book's cover. Emma looked up once more, watching a change come over his face at her words, a resolve settling there as he straightened his back and clasped his hands firmly behind his back, looking her straight in the eyes as if he had come to some sort of conclusion.
"There was much to prepare for, your highness. Captain Jones and I are to see to your safe travel to your new home in the Seven Isles."
Now it was Emma's turn to startle, as she almost dropped the book all over again.
"Careful," Killian said, moving toward her and helping her regain her grasp. "I took the liberty of removing a few books on your new kingdom and having them moved to what will be your quarters on the Jewel."
"Thank you," she whispered, feeling completely absurd for the expression of gratitude. Never did she think she would find herself thanking Killian for helping her ready to marry another man.
"I haven't met him, you know."
"You don't need to explain, your highness..."
"He was just one on a list of suitors, you see," Emma continued, "who offered the alliance with us. You know how uncertain the kingdom has been since Regina was banished, and with no other nearby military allies, and me not married or having produced an heir yet, it made such sense, you see..."
"Princess," Killian paused her, stilling her ramblings with a polite nod. "You are Her Royal Highness, Princess Emma, first of her name, heir to the crown of Mist Haven and the Enchanted Forest."
Killian stopped in his speech, his eyes searching hers before bowing deeply, the most formal bow she could remember him ever giving her in the whole of their friendship, before adding, "You do not answer to me."
With that Killian turned to leave, making toward the doors of the library with haste.
"Killian, wait!"
He turned at her words, a fleeting expression of vulnerability flying across his face.
"Stay," she said at last, setting the book back down on the chair he originally occupied, before she'd disturbed him. "I assume there won't be a library aboard ship, and I wouldn't want to deprive you of your favorite safe haven in the castle."
Killian nodded, murmuring "As you wish" before moving back toward the chair, though he did not sit. They were at a stalemate, then, he not willing to sit while she still stood, her not willing to capitulate to his formal airs. A part of her wanted to vow to stand there for all eternity, to see how long it might take for him to concede and treat her with some semblance of the intimacy she knew was shared between them.
It was a look of strain across his brow that finally moved her, the idea that perhaps this was costing him something to do. Emma gave a low, much more casual curtsy, turning and moving toward the door at last.
"Do you know why I came here so often as a child?" Killian called out, just as Emma reached the door. Keeping her back still to him, she looked over her shoulder and shook her head no.
"No one ever followed me here. I could stay for hours and be, just as I am. No King's Guard, no tutors, no...uppity governesses looking at me like some kind of leech."
Emma squinted her eyes, trying to make sense of his words.
"Here, surrounded by these stories of knights and heroes, I could be anyone I wanted, with no one to tell me I didn't belong."
They held each other's gaze for a long, still moment as he ended his speech. Finally, Emma released her vice-like grip on the door frame, exiting the library at last and closing the door quietly behind her. Releasing a great breath, she leaned her weight against the sturdy door, whispering to no one, "You always belonged."
