Chapter 10: Confession

A/N: Seriously, this was just a scribble for me to have something fluffy to hide in while my poor Emma and Killian are suffering horrendously through s5, I honestly never thought it would be received so kindly, all you generous souls.

I have been asked the intended future of this story. I had planned this to be a stand alone story but I have enjoyed this 'universe' so much and truly love my Lieutenant Duckling so deeply, that I can see a few more adventures at different ages until they are grown up.

The harsh circumstances of his life could not have failed to leave their mark on Killian Jones. Mother dead from childbirth and abandoned by his wastrel father, young Killian could have inured himself against the pain and cruelties of the world, could have built a shelter made of bitterness behind which his heart could rust from lack of use. It had happened to others. Children cast aside by desperate, poverty stricken parents, who had found no solace, no kindness in the world. Killian's saving grace had been Liam. Due to his brother's care and the genuine friendship they shared, Killian's resilient heart was not only still open but capable of an immeasurable depth of feeling.

Killian adored his brother. This was fact. Liam was his ideal, his touchstone and his compass bearing. In his attempts to emulate his brother's standards of good form, Killian had developed a rigid sense of responsibility uncommon in one so young; more so than was good for him. As soon a he'd seen the chickens running rampant about the castle and the forecourt, Killian knew there'd have to be a reckoning. Before he could answer as his brother instructed, Snow jumped in.

"What happened to your face, Killian?" Snow asked kindly. She crossed over to him and crouched down in front of him. She took out her handkerchief and folded it into a neat square and held it carefully on the scratch."We'll have to get this cleaned up and it will need stitches. It's quite deep. I suspect it will scar. How did this happen?"

"The chicken scratched him, Mama. I was hugging her and she got her feet stuck. See?" Emma said, pointing to the pulled threads of her cotton dress. "Killian helped get her unstuck." She smiled at her rescuer.

"Five minutes! You two couldn't have been alone together for more than five minutes and you ruin your dress and Killian's got another scratch," Snow said, with a wry smile.

"Emma? Please go and find Johanna and let her change your dress. Then ask her to take you to the kitchen, which I'm sure Mrs. Hodge has chicken-free by now, and get you some breakfast," David instructed his daughter.

Killian had not yet answered Emma's question, but David knew a child's guilty expression when he saw one. He thought it best that Emma be elsewhere while the matter of Killian and the chickens was discussed.

Emma knew the stern expression her father was directing at Killian. She'd been on the receiving end a time or two, herself. On the scale of his 'Emma may have finger painted on the Receiving Room wall' to 'Emma has been caught out in a lie', range of expressions, this one sat rather too close to the latter. To make things worse, Liam was also frowning and Mama looked disappointed. Well, Princess Emma of Misthaven, was not a fair weather friend. She was at a loss as to what Killian could possibly have done to warrant such serious regard but she wasn't going to leave her new friend to face what was coming, alone.

"No, Papa! I want to stay here," she reached for Killian's hand and held tight, thinking she needed to protect him from her father's ire. She winced a little bit as her injured palm stung. "Why are you cross with, Killian?"

"Emma, sweetheart, you need to obey Papa. Now, off you go, young lady," Snow said. "Killian will be just fine. I promise."

Emma bit her bottom lip and considered her options. A promise from Mama was never broken.

"You're very kind, Your Highness. But I don't think a princess should defy a royal command from her parents for the likes of me," Killian said quietly.

Emma turned to look at the younger Jones, who nodded in encouragement as he gently disentangled her hand from his. Snow seeing her opening, put both hands on her daughter's shoulders and pushed her lightly back over to her father. David dropped a kiss on Emma's forehead before picking her up and putting down in the hallway. He signalled one of the maids who was picking stray feathers out of one of the tapestries to come over to him and he gave her instructions to take Emma to Johanna. He watched the pair disappear down the stairs and then shut the door to the dining room behind him as he stepped back in.

"Alright now, Killian," The King beckoned for Killian to approach. The young man came forward and stopped a few paces in front of David. "First off, let's get one thing straight. There is no, 'likes of you'. I don't ever want you to refer to yourself in those terms again. While I expect you to show respect to your elders, you are not less than anyone else. You hear me?"

Killian swallowed down his surprise at the King's words and found the presence of mind to nod.

"Good. Now, to the matter at hand. What do you know about these chickens?"

David's tone had been level and non-threatening, which only added to Killian's, already spiralling, guilt as he looked nervously from the King to Liam to the Queen. Suddenly it all became a bit too much. Everything that he had experienced in the last two weeks hit him all at once. He felt totally overwhelmed. Shipwrecked, nearly drowning, drowning of a different kind in the black guts of the mine, the over abundance of unlooked for kindness after being abandoned and destitute and the abrupt drop into the lap of luxury with kind monarchs and a shining, golden princess who had just accepted him openly as a friend.

Guilty tears poured forth and filled the silence as he stood there under the weighty regard of the King and Queen. Snow immediately crouched down and drew him into a hug. Killian was too upset for even the smallest amount of humiliation at dissolving into tears like a baby. Liam had no idea what to do, unaccustomed as he was to his stoic little brother displaying such a surfeit of uncontrolled emotion.

"There now, Killian. They're only chickens. This castle has stood through worse than an influx of feathered pests," Snow told him. "It survived me and I was a terror at your age!"

"This is my fault. I'm to blame. Liam had nothing to do with it," Killian managed to get out between sobs that made his small body jerk in Snow's arms. He pulled back to look up at David, his blue eyes shimmering with tears. "Please, please don't send Liam away because of me. He deserves this chance. I did this, not him. Send me away; I'm the bad one."

'Oh, Killian, no-one is sending anyone, anywhere! Just get that idea out of your head now," Snow said, vehemently.

"That's right. We didn't bring you both here just to toss you out at the first mistake," David said as he and Snow exchanged looks over Killian's head. "You have a home here with us for as long as you want one. But we do need to get things sorted out. Because you are under our care, your actions reflect on us. The owner of the chickens is here and the first thing you will do is apologise, alright?"

Killian nodded, solemnly. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Snow, Liam and I will all be there with you," David assured him. He turned and opened the door and gestured for the boys to follow as he and Snow led them to the Receiving Room.

"David? I think we should we talk to Miggens first. I want to make sure he's receptive to an apology before we let Killian anywhere near him," Snow whispered so the boys couldn't hear.

"You have a point," David replied, casting a cautious eye up ahead to where he knew the furious man was waiting behind closed doors. When they were about 10 feet from the Receiving Room, David stopped and turned to the boys. "Just wait here. I will send Wills out to get you when we're ready for you."

"It will be alright, boys, we can fix this," Snow said. The King and Queen smiled and then went inside.