The blood drained from Killian's face. The joy of only minutes earlier, replaced by a cool dread in his veins as he followed the messenger to the admiralty building.
Emma stayed with him, her hand clutching his arm tightly, offering silent comfort, for she could do no more.
Admiral Taylor was waiting for them, his face grim, a piece of parchment held between his chubby fingers.
"The ship?" Killian asked before he was barely through the doorway.
"In one piece, badly damaged, but still afloat."
"The crew?"
The admiral's face fell. "There were some casualties-"
Killian felt his chest tighten.
"But your brother-"
"Yes?"
The admiral passed the paper in his hand to the lieutenant. Emma watched as he furtively scanned the script, his brow creasing as he reached its conclusion.
"A ransom?"
Emma sucked in a deep breath. Captain Jones was being held.
"I'm afraid so," nodded Admiral Taylor, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pipe. "Pirates, you see. Now that they no longer have funds flowing their way from Queen Regina, they have taken to… other methods of finance."
Killian shook his head, "But why Liam? Why?"
"His name is well known, Lieutenant. Like it or not, you are war heroes now. And they believe with that, comes a heavy price."
Emma suddenly spoke up, "But the kingdom does not pay ransoms. It has been that way since my grandparent's time - it is enshrined in law."
"Yes," the admiral added solemnly, "Of this I am quite aware."
Killian turned to her, his eyes wide, the paper shaking in his trembling hands. "Killian…" she began.
"I...I…" He squeezed his eyes closed, "You should go, your highness. This is not the place for a woman."
"A woman?" She cried, affronted. "But Killian, I can help, I can-"
"Please," he begged, "I ask you to leave and let us think. Your parents will be wondering where you got to."
He reached up and ran his thumb down her cheek, before picking up her hand and placing a soft kiss on it.
And it was then, she felt her heart break for him.
/
"We know," her mother explained softly, creases etched into her brow.
Emma's eyes darted between her parent's concerned faces. "And what will we do?"
Her father's eyes flickered to the book in his hands and she felt her heart sink.
"Father-"
"Emma, there is nothing we can do," her mother replied.
The king sighed. "It's true, my love, our hands are tied. It is enshrined in law that this kingdom will not be held to ransom - nor pay one for the release of one of its subjects."
"And that is it. We condemn him to die. A hero . One who saved the lives of so many others?" she cried, her heart pounding. "Captain Jones is a good man, he doesn't deserve this!"
Quietly, Emma sank to sit in the armchair opposite the fireplace that dominated her parents parlor. The fire within was small but comforting in a strange way. She stared at the crackling logs and their glowing amber hue. She'd never felt so helpless.
"We know you knew him-" her father began, taking a step towards her.
"Knew him? So you've already resigned him to his fate?"
Emma shrugged away from her father's outstretched arms.
"Sweetheart." Her mother's delicate hand pressed gently onto her shoulder.
The princess squeezed her eyes tightly closed.
"My love."
This time it was her father's voice, his hand taking hers within it. "These laws apply to all subjects of the kingdom. Even to royalty."
"Your father is right," her mother added, "Even if it were one of us, we would not be permitted to engage in negotiations."
A shudder of anger rippling through her, Emma shook away her parents' touch. "What is the purpose of being royalty if we have no power? We are weak? Our enemies can just take one of us, with no consequence?"
A second later, her face crumpled and she pressed her palms into her hands.
"Oh Emma," her father sighed, taking hold again of her hand. This time she allowed herself to be pulled into his arms and held tight, his hand cupping her head, as if she were a child once more. "Shhh," he soothed.
"I just-" she began. But she was unable to finish, the enormity of the situation crashing down upon her.
Captain Jones was in danger.
There was nothing the kingdom could do.
His life was on the knife edge.
Killian's brother was condemned to death.
/
Night had long since arrived, the desk clerks long since retired to their quarters, the lanterns in the admiralty office lit, their glass casings scorching hot from the heat of the oil created flames.
Killian was hunched over a desk, one strewn with maps of the area in which the Jewel had been boarded, logs of pirate activity and the letter that had announced Liam's capture. His fingers ran over the words that detailed the amount they were asking in exchange for his brother.
5,000 gold pieces.
Five thousand! A king's ransom! Such a sum would take him 10 years to amass…
He'd spent hours racking his brain for ways to raise such a sum. The brothers had no family to speak of, no one to beg assistance with this crisis. And even their meager personal possessions would raise barely one percent of such an amount.
But he could not lose him.
It would be inconceivable…
Killian thought back to when he and Liam were young boys-soon after their mother had passed, and their father abandoned them. Liam immediately took charge, offering Killian as much comfort and assurance that they would be alright-as much as any 14 year old boy could do, anyway. In so many ways, Liam was all he had. All his family. His past. His brotherly love. He'd given him so much. Killian could not give up on him now.
It was with these thoughts echoing in his mind that exhaustion finally consumed him and he collapsed, exhausted, upon his desk.
/
It had been two days since she had last seen Killian. She had gone to the admiralty office on more than one occasion but each time was turned away. They were too busy, she'd been told by a young officer. She needed to let the men get on with their work.
It smarted. As much as she tried not to let it, she couldn't avoid it. She'd only just opened herself up to Killian and here he was, seemingly pushing her away.
So after a fitful night's sleep, she needed air. Without thinking, she had walked to the stables and mounted her horse, stealing away into the first dawn light, before even the stable boys were awake. Emma had no idea where she was going, letting Tess lead the way, her mind too preoccupied. She'd hoped the cold air would rouse her from her dark thoughts, but to no avail.
The sun was filtering through the evergreen trees that still held onto their needles and leaves when she found herself in the village. It had been just a few days since she had been there with Killian. Yet so much had changed. That small seed of hope she had allowed to blossom between them was already shrinking back into itself. It was almost like that day had never happened.
Preoccupied, she tied Tess to a nearby branch and made her way to the well at the center of the village. It was still early and she saw none of the villagers yet up and about their business. She stared down into the dark depths of the well, half wishing that inside it she would find some hope, some answers-
"Good morning, child."
A little startled, she looked up to see the old lady she had met here a few times before. She smiled automatically.
"Morning," she nodded, before looking back into the well.
She heard the woman shuffle closer. "Are you well, child? You look a little ill."
"I'm not ill," she shrugged as a tear made its way down her cheek.
"You may not be ill," the woman continued, "But you are not well. Humor an old woman and tell me what ails you. Is it something to do with that handsome man you brought with you last time? He was awfully smitten with you."
Sniffling a little, she looked over her shoulder at the lady's warm smile. She knew telling her would do no good, but her mother had always said a problem shared is a problem halved…
Slowly, she explained the situation, pausing a few times to gather herself when the magnitude of the situation overwhelmed her. It was cathartic to let out the feelings inside.
"And so," she concluded, "Captain Jones is lost to us. And I fear… I fear Lieutenant Jones may not recover from such a loss."
There was a moment's silence before the woman spoke again. "Do you love him?"
Emma looked up, surprised.
"This Lieutenant - the man who looks at you like you put the stars in the sky?"
Emma blushed. "I care about him…" she closed her eyes and sighed. "Yes, I love him. So deeply."
"I was in love once. My husband and I married young. He was a merchant - such a handsome face and so kind he was." A sad look crossed over the old woman's face. "He left us far too early."
Nodding, Emma felt her body acquire a heaviness she had not yet experienced. It was like her body was crashing in upon itself.
"Did I ever tell you my son is a sailor? A captain, in fact?"
Surprised, Emma looked up. "No…"
"Aye, he docks near here - that's why I moved to this village. I suppose I could have lived in the port but I've always been more at home in the countryside. He happens to be in port now."
Emma felt her heart race.
"So," the woman went on, "The kingdom cannot pay a ransom for this man and they seem reluctant to mount a rescue mission."
"Yes," Emma nodded, "We do not pay ransoms and they've been discussing a rescue mission for days now, to no avail."
"Hmm," the woman hummed, threading her fingers together in her lap. "Then I see only one solution. These pirates would not be expecting an attack from their own kind-"
"Your son is a pirate?" Emma suddenly exclaimed.
"Of a sort," the woman smiled. "And as such, he and his crew are governed by no laws. And you, sweetheart, have been so kind to me and this village..."
"What are you saying?" the princess asked.
"How about we go rescue your captain?" the woman grinned.
/
It had been a week. The lieutenant's beard had grown unkempt and he had long since abandoned his starched and shining uniform. Instead he sat at his desk, head in his hands, rumpled shirt pushed up to his elbows, his hair loose from its queue, instead hanging forlornly over his forehead. His thoughts were in disarray, flittering from worries for his brother, to visions of Emma and the memory of their kiss-
Did she really love him, as she had said? Damn, he felt guilty even thinking these things. He should be concentrating on the rescue effort… But he couldn't help but think of her.
He missed her. They hadn't talked since the day he had found out about Liam's capture. He's seen her briefly across the palace courtyard and she'd smiled sadly for a moment, before disappearing into the castle keep.
He feared she had changed her mind. They hadn't had a chance to talk about what had happened between them, and as much as the memory of kissing her gave him hope, he still remembered all she had told him of not wanting or needing a man or a marriage. Maybe it had been a mistake-
"You should go home lad, how long since you slept?" Admiral Taylor boomed from the other side of the room.
Killian started and sat up, "Two - no wait, three days," he admitted as he lifted his body upright. "But I don't-"
"Killian," the Admiral replied sternly, "You do your brother no favors by driving yourself into the ground with exhaustion. Sleep. That's an order."
Lt. Jones opened his mouth to protest, just as the admiral placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "We will send for you should any word of Liam reach us. I promise you that."
"Thank you," he nodded, meeting the other man's eye as he stood.
Tired, he unravelled his shirtsleeves and pulled on his jacket before smoothing back his hair and wearily making way for the door that led to the castle courtyard. It was his first taste of fresh air in days and he gulped it down. He really hadn't realized how shut in he'd been, until he breathed in the outside again.
Killian was momentarily startled - still so wrapped up in his thoughts - when he heard the sound of rushed footsteps across the cobbled ground. He looked up and recognized the same messenger, who had brought the news of Liam's capture. His heart leapt into his throat, his stomach twisted uncomfortably-
"I have news for the admiralty," the messenger announced, panting.
"Of what?" Killian asked.
"Of Captain Jo-"
The words were barely out of his mouth, before Killian grabbed the paper from his outstretched hand, ignoring the man's protests as he cracked the wax seal and devoured the note's contents.
Everything became suddenly quiet.
Liam was safe.
/
The news spread quickly around the admiralty. Sympathetic glances became warm smiles as a palpable sense of relief flowed through the officers stationed there. Within the day, it seemed like the entire kingdom knew and he took to his bed for a long, much needed night of sleep, his mind finally easy.
Well, almost.
That next day, he had arisen with renewed vigour. His brother was to be returned. His leg was now only requiring the lightest of bandages for support. It seemed everything was returning to how it should be.
So, reminding himself that he was a grown man who had fought in many battles, he gathered his courage and sought an audience with her highness. He wished to tell her the news, if she hadn't already been informed. He wished to see her lovely face. He wished a great many things, if he was truly honest.
But, to his confusion, she was not there. He was met by a maid who explained she had been called away on urgent business to another kingdom with her lady in waiting and it was uncertain when she would return.
Trudging away from the castle, his heart was held in an icy grip. His worst fears cascaded forth.
Why would she leave the realm? A suitor, he told himself. It must be a suitor. He could see it now. She'd changed her mind about him. Clearly all her earlier ardour was just confusion on her part. Of course. That made more sense than a princess falling for a lowly officer like himself.
Though as much as he tried to tell himself it was all for the best, Killian knew in his heart he was lying to himself.
/
The day Liam Jones arrived back on Misthaven's shore was a day Killian would be sure to remember until the day he died. Liam had been picked up in Arendelle, though the details of how he had turned up there were sketchy. A navy schooner had collected him, making the journey in double quick time. Killian had begged to be part of its crew but the physician insisted that his leg was still healing and another injury or jolt to the joint would surely see the end to his career. Instead he waited and brooded. Days melded into one another as he spent each day scouring the coastline for any sight of the Misthaven livery. So when he finally spotted the familiar colors, it was almost as if a mirage had appeared. Dawn had barely broken and a thin fog had engulfed the port since the evening before, casting an eerie glow on the waterfront, but he couldn't mistake the outline of the vessel.
He was at the dock before he had time to think, his feet moving as fast as his injury would allow him. Panting, he waited impatiently as the anchor was dropped and the gangway was lowered. A few crew alighted first, lashing mooring ropes to the promenade whilst some items of freight were removed in large wooden boxes. Killian craned his neck and reached up on his toes, trying to see his brother. And then suddenly, there he was, just about to disembark.
Their twin blue eyes met, the elder Jones weary and lacking their usual lustre, but still shining with the steely determination that Killian was used to. His brother was barely touching dry ground when Killian pulled him into a firm hug, gulping back a sob of relief. He could tell Liam was thinner than normal, his captivity taking its toll on his physique, but otherwise he seemed in one piece.
"Brother," he gasped, bunching his hands in the Captain's jacket as if to reassure himself that this was not an apparition, that he truly had returned. "Are you alright?"
"Killian," Liam replied, holding him with equal firmness, his chest heaving with barely restrained sobs. "I-" he continued, until his voice cracked. He slid his arm onto Killian's shoulder as he stood back. "I missed you, little brother."
"Younger brother," Killian replied automatically, earning himself a wry grin from the older Jones. He took a deep breath. "I can't believe you're here."
"Neither can I."
Killian placed one hand over his brother's. "It's a miracle."
"Perhaps," the Captain nodded.
Killian looked closer at his brother. "Perhaps?" he echoed, burning with curiosity. "Brother, the reports we were given were rather light on details. How were you found and rescued?"
Liam released his grip on his brother and shrugged then took a few steps further onto the dockside. "It's a long and rather complicated story."
"Which I look forward to hearing," Killian pressed.
His brother gave him a look. "Later. I find myself quite fatigued from the journey," he replied with a stiff smile.
Narrowing his eyes, Killian rounded upon his brother, "Liam. What is it you aren't saying? You never were good at keeping things from me."
"Nothing," Liam quipped, shrugging lightly.
"Brother," Killian warned.
The older Jones eyes sank closed as his head rolled backwards. "I made an oath not to disclose who the persons were...who helped liberate me."
"But why? I want to thank them, need to know how they-?" Killian exclaimed excitedly, his heart racing.
Liam dragged a hand over his weary face. "I've said too much already."
"Liam!" Killian cried.
The older Jones fixed the younger with a firm look. "Speak to Emma."
"Emma?" Killian echoed, confused.
"Speak to Emma," Liam repeated.
And that was all he would say on the matter. Despite how much Killian pleaded on the way back to the admiralty, he was left with silence, leaving Killian under no illusions that this topic was now off limits. Which made it all the more frustrating that she was absent. Where was she? What possible connection did she have with Liam's rescue?
/
The next days passed by so quickly for Killian, attending to his brother as he was given medical treatment and rest. Although he tried to press Liam for more details of his rescue, he was stubbornly quiet. His instruction to ask Emma about what had happened was easier said than done when he had no idea where she was. So Killian tried to hold in his curiosity, even though it was eating him up inside to learn what possible part Emma had had in this matter.
Liam had been back in the safety of Misthaven for almost a week when they were summoned to dinner at the palace; the king had sent a message the day of Liam's return, inviting him to the palace once he had sufficiently recovered. Thankfully, most of Liam's injuries had been tended to on the journey from Arendelle and it took merely some rest and hot meals to bring him back to full strength and respond to the invitation. Of course, this invitation was extended to his brother. Under other circumstances, Killian would have been filled with trepidation: an audience with the King would surely mean his daughter's presence. But she was still conspicuous in her absence; even through his discreet enquiries, he was none the wiser to her whereabouts. So, he dressed in his formal uniform, polished his shoes and took the provided carriage to the palace, all the while still amazed that his brother was there and safe.
Despite avoiding all talk of his rescue, they had spent many hours talking over Liam's capture. The pirates had been indifferent captors - tossing him some food or a cup of grog from time to time as they sailed to who knew where (for he was kept below decks and had no way to tell day from night, never mind see the stars). He had been hungry and thirsty, but not quite neglected enough to starve, though they did seem to relish in doling out a beating for the most minor indiscretions.
In all, his captivity had lasted just shy of a month. He'd been kept mostly alone, a ploy to deny him any great knowledge of who exactly they were - they were careful to cover their faces with cloth when dealing with him. In this, Liam was forthright and honest. He did not rightly know exactly who had taken him, but it was obvious that the Queen's defeat had played a crucial role in the matter and that in itself had consequences for matters of security when sailing in those waters in the future.
The dinner hall was one of the more intimate ones in the palace, with oak panelled walls and the round table set for no more than a dozen. When the brothers arrived, Admiral Taylor and a few other high ranking officers were already in attendance. They took the seats assigned to them by the butler after they greeted the officers and accepted their thankful wishes that Liam was safe. Killian had to bite his tongue; the urge to point out their inactivity in the situation was strong, but not strong enough to break rank, or more specifically to make a scene for his brother in the royal household.
The tension was broken when the large oak doors opened and the presence of the king was announced. The men stood, straightening their jackets as footsteps approached the room.
"Their highnesses Queen Snow and King David," the butler announced as the couple swept into the room. The men bowed and smiled, almost ready to take their seats, when, "And their daughter, Crown Princess Emma."
Killian felt his heart drop into his stomach.
She was here.
She was back.
She was here.. .
Liam must have felt him stiffen by his side, turning to give Killian a knowing look as the younger brother dampened his lips with his tongue. His head spun further as she took a seat a few away from him, her eyes catching his as she went to sit, a hesitant smile at her lips that gave him more hope than he had felt in weeks.
Her hair was swept up upon her head and she wore a powder blue gown that made her look even more lovely than usual.
A giddy state of confusion passed as the party settled and the first course was brought out. He found it difficult to avoid glancing in her direction with alarming frequency. She was too far away to engage in easy conversation, so the small looks she gave him were all that fuelled him through three courses and a selection of wines. That is, until the King invited the men to retire for brandy and the ladies stood to make their leave.
The queen and the princess bid farewell to the gentlemen in turn. Emma saved his greeting for last. She held out her hand and he took it bowing softly, whispering. "I heard you were gone, with no estimate for your return…"
She glanced around, slowly dropping her hand. "I just returned this afternoon, actually." She hesitated for a moment, before taking a step closer and adding under her breath, "Meet me in the kitchen gardens, in an hour." Quickly, she looked him in the eye and then all a sudden she was gone.
/
Wringing her hands, Emma paced among the shrubs, her ears alert for any sounds of movement. She wore her warmest cloak but still felt a chill through her bones. Perhaps it wasn't from the weather.
Oh my, how she'd missed him. And how he had looked at her across the table? She hoped and prayed he still felt the same…
"Your highness."
Emma turned around at the sound of his soft, dulcid voice. It sliced through her like a hot knife through butter. Across the dark courtyard, his eyes were intensely blue.
"Sorry I am late, your father-"
"He likes to talk," she finished, her voice shaking a little.
"Aye," the lieutenant nodded, taking a few steps towards her. "You are really here," he wondered shaking his head, "I feared- well, I feared a great many things in your absence."
Her heart clenched - did he think her absence was related to their relationship - to the moment in the woods?
"Oh Killian, I'm sorry. I would have sent word but…" she sighed, "There wasn't time. And I wasn't sure what to say."
"Where were you?" he asked.
"Arendelle," she admitted, tipping up her chin so she could match his gaze. "I returned only yesterday."
Killian nodded, "Arendelle," he repeated.
Her heart thudded as things fell quiet.
"Killi-"
"Em-"
"No, you first," she insisted.
He stepped a little closer to the apple trees that lined the pathway. "Liam will not talk of his rescue. He has said that he was sworn to silence. But he has also said, that if I want to know more, I should speak to you."
Emma gasped softly, though she had begged the older brother's silence, even she knew it was impossible between two so close.
"And?" she asked.
"And…" Killian shook his head, "What role could you have possibly had? You yourself said, the royal family does not pay ransoms…"
She clenched and unclenched her hands, rolling the words to reply around in her mind until they fell into some semblance of unity that could explain the unusual turn of events.
"We did not pay any ransom...my role was not exactly an official one," she admitted, giving him a coy glance that left him with a puzzled expression. Emboldened, she reached out and took his hand, pulling him towards a small wooden bench beneath the trees.
There, she explained in as much detail as she could her dealings in the matter. The connection of the old woman in the village, her pirate son, the plan to rescue him, her trip to Arendelle to oversee the rescue - all under the ruse of visiting her friend, Queen Elsa. Of course her involvement had to be completely hidden. To all who must know, it was merely good fortune that more 'honorable' pirates had happened upon the vessel carrying his brother and taken him to safety. No connection could be made back to Misthaven.
As he listened, Killian's eyes widened. "You risked your crown, that woman risked her son's life-"
Emma smiled, "He was already a pirate, used to such risks."
Killian laid his hand over hers. "But why?"
She shrugged softly, "He is important to you… and you… you are important to me."
"I am?" he whispered.
Shyly, the princess nodded. "You're the first person in a long time I've ever even believed I could trust."
"You trust me?" he wondered, his eyes darting over her features.
"Yes," she admitted. And suddenly all her pent up emotion hit her at once and tears began to form in her eyes. "I was so convinced before I met you that I could never find a worthy man, a man I could trust and see as an equal partner. And then you came along and all my previous certainties began to melt away. You were quite unexpected."
"As were you," he chimed in, shimmying a little closer until their knees pressed together.
"So you see, I couldn't see you in pain and do nothing…"
"You're a marvel," he smiled. "A beautiful, wonderful, amazing-"
"You make me blush," she laughed, mirth dancing in her eyes as the two relaxed into each other's company and she happily laid her head on his shoulder.
"I love you, Emma," he told her. Choking back a cry of happiness, Emma buried her hands into the soft wool of his coat.
"I love you too, Killian."
Looking up at him, as the moonlight danced through his hair and lit up his skin, she had never felt so certain of anything than she was that her love for this man was true. Tentatively, she reached up and pressed her lips to his. As they met, an explosion of joy and passion erupted within her, fuelling the tears that now began to peel down her cheeks as his hands reached up to cup her face and her arms slipped around his neck.
Killian Jones had kissed before, he had in even kissed the princess. But this kiss was a new experience. Bold and honest, with no trepidation or fear, a simple sharing of hearts and hope. He pulled her into his lap as the church bells tolled midnight in the distance and he thought that in that moment he could die a happy man. The woman he loved in his arms and a joy and certainty seeping into his bones that he began to fear did not exist.
They broke apart some indeterminate time later, both short of breath but giddy with expectation.
"What now?" he asked, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
To that, she could only smile and pull him back into their kiss.
/
Six weeks later
The music still bellowed from the ballroom, even though it was well after midnight, but finally they had managed to slip away. A small white lie about aching feet from new slippers and too much wine.
"Do you think they knew it was a lie," Emma giggled as they made their way upstairs.
"My love, it is our wedding night. I suspect they were waiting for us to make our leave much earlier than this."
They paused outside the bedroom - theirs now - and kissed, her back pressed against the wall, her skin chill against her pale pink wedding gown.
"Are you nervous?" he asked.
"A little," she admitted, running her arms up his smart, formal jacket. "But not enough to wait any longer."
She grinned and took hold of his hand, pulling him into the room. Finally truly alone, she let herself look deep into her husband's eyes.
"It was never fair really. I mean, what chance did I have?" she shrugged, "How could I ever not have fallen in love with you?"
"You make a man blush," he replied, his voice low and enticing, "But I must protest, you are the enchantress who has had my heart since the night we first danced."
Emma's breath caught in her throat. "That soon?" she gasped.
"Aye," he nodded, studying her face, "Perhaps even the first time I saw you, so haughty and disinterested."
Emma's face fell a little. "I was hurting," she frowned.
Killian's hand went to tip her chin upwards, "Yes, but I saw what you hid beneath. And I quite like that I was the one to help change all that."
"That you did," she admitted, circling her arms around his waist and looking at him adoringly. "Now I believe, enough talking has been had, dear husband."
His smile lit up his whole face. "Of course, dear wife, what else would we possibly do to occupy ourselves?"
Emma bit her lip and shrugged, "I'm sure we can think of something…"
**THE END**
A/N Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed and been so patient while I battles with writers block. A special thank you to my beta Jenni who helped so much with this and made sure it was finally finished, you rock!
*PS - reviews are my ambrosia!
