Chapter Thirty Seven

For Crimes Against the Queen

The door to the captain's quarters was propped open, but she paused on the threshold anyway and waited for an invitation to actually enter the room. Captain Jones rose from his chair at the sight of her and clasped his hands behind his back, giving a formal nod of acknowledgement, "Your Majesty. Please come in."

He spoke softly, glancing over to the tall bunk in the corner where her daughter lay asleep. Emma was curled up on her side, fully dressed in a gown of buttercup yellow that had not been part of her wardrobe when she'd boarded the ship that was supposed to carry her to sanctuary in another realm. A matching yellow ribbon was still tied on the end of her plait, while her silk-stockinged feet peeked out from under the hem of the dress. The shoes were set haphazardly next to the bed, as if she had been too tired to do more than just toe them off onto the floor before lying down and falling into slumber. A fond look crossed the captain's face, a softening of the blue eyes and sharp jaw as he gazed down at her that made him look younger and less imposing than the man who had first appeared looming out of the dark in the middle of the night with blade in hand, the very picture of a villainous pirate.

Wanted...for Crimes Against the Queen….Murder….Treason….Treachery

Snow White cleared her throat and he snapped to attention again, gesturing towards the small table and moving aside the maps and papers that were scattered across it. She recognized the jagged coastline of the Enchanted Forest on one and felt a small pang of homesickness for the thick woods and stone castle that she quickly tamped down, busying herself with the tray she had carried in from the galley. She set it on the table and laid out the tea, a steaming china pot wrapped in a knit cozy to keep warm, the matching cups, and whisked the linen napkin off the plate of cakes the ship's cook had produced when he heard it was intended for Emma. Or rather, for, "the Mistress," as he and the rest of the crew called her.

"How long has she been asleep?" Snow asked, matching his low tone and being careful not to let the cups rattle too loud in their saucers when she lifted them off the tray.

He frowned at the question, suddenly looking very displeased, "Since she returned to the ship over two hours ago. She was utterly exhausted, she's pushing herself far too hard. I may be no expert in the subject, but I very much doubt that the magic the fairy queen expects her to learn can be mastered in only a few days' time."

She remembered the long hours Regina had spent shut up in her chamber while she went out riding or attended to her lessons, preening happily under her father's doting praise and both of them blissfully oblivious to the dark magic slowly brewing behind that closed door. It had taken her stepmother years to master magic, not days, years when the lovely young princess who once had a heart full of love and hope slowly twisted and turned into the woman now known across the land as the Evil Queen. The price that had been paid for her power was a dear one, Regina's heart was as poisoned as the shiny red apple she had offered in exchange for her Prince Charming's life.

"The choice is yours, it must be taken willingly."

It wasn't a choice, not really. She'd made herself forget him, breaking his heart and hers and even without the memories she'd known after that something was missing. A life without love, a life without him...that would have been the real curse.

Captain Jones looked down at the refreshments she had brought for Emma and then back at her, reaching up to run a hand through his hair and scratching somewhat nervously at the back of his neck, "I would...prefer...that she be left to rest for now."

It was said as a somewhat halting request, not an order. From what she'd observed during their voyage on the Mermaid's Song a ship's captain was practically a king at sea, absolute ruler of a tiny floating kingdom and much more used to demanding instead of asking. Captain Jones was quite a bit younger than Captain Powell, but he wore the mantle of command on his shoulders as easily as the long leather coat he usually sported above deck. She could see it hanging on a peg in the corner, next to the scabbard that held his sword. A woman's brocade cloak was also hung on the wall, while a lace shawl was draped carelessly over the back of a chair and a hairbrush sat on the narrow washstand, full of long blonde strands that obviously had not come from the captain's dark head. If he was the king of his ship, it was blindingly obvious who was the queen.

"Then we will have to stay quiet so we don't wake her up. Would you care for some tea, Captain?"

A single eyebrow quirked at that as she lifted the pot and looked at him expectantly. He gave a silent nod and she poured out two cups, setting the pot back down and hovering a hand over the painted lid to the sugar bowl.

"Do you take sugar?"

His white teeth flashed as he smiled, "Not as a rule, no. Unless it's part of a cargo I've...acquired, sugar is not normally kept on board. At least it wasn't until recently."

Snow remembered what the big crewman with the red beard, Doyle, had said, that the captain had stocked the galley with things Emma would like. Her daughter adored sweets, had ever since she was a child and the royal cooks competed to see who could make the most fantastic confection for the little princess who came toddling into the kitchens with golden ringlets dancing on her shoulders and green eyes that went huge at the sight of all the cakes and puddings waiting for her. The ones on the plate next to the teapot weren't nearly so elaborate, crudely cut squares with only a light dusting of cinnamon on top for decoration instead of perfectly sculpted icing, but it seemed the sentiment was the same.

Captain Jones turned and rummaged in one of the whitewashed cabinets under the windows, producing a squat glass bottle that he deftly uncorked with a flick of his thumb. He added a generous splash of whatever was inside to his tea, amber liquid sloshing up the sides without spilling over.

"A dash of something a bit stronger, Your Majesty?"

Why not? She nodded, and he came around the table to pour a measure into her cup and also pulled out her chair. He did not sit in his own until she was settled at the table, and she watched as he delicately pinched the china handle between his thumb and forefinger, rings gleaming in the bright afternoon sun that streamed in through the windows. Taking tea with a pirate while her daughter peacefully slept in his bed, she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Snow chose to drink from her cup instead, the hot tea mixed with something that tasted of heavy spice slid right down her throat and warmed her belly. It reminded her of her days as a bandit, trading stolen goods in taverns to men not all that dissimilar from the one who sat across her now. Coin and information both changed hands quietly under the table while they drank fresh-brewed ale and harsh spirits by the light of the fire, her cloak pulled low to cover her face in shadow. She might be a queen now, but she had never forgotten those days of sleeping rough under the stars and scraping to survive by the skin of her teeth, dreaming of nothing but escaping the Enchanted Forest for good and starting a new life in a new land where no one knew the name Snow White.

"I once sought to book passage with pirates, years ago."

The captain paused with the teacup lifted halfway to his lips, "Oh?"

"My stepmother had stolen my inheritance and put a price on my head. It seemed like a good idea at the time, find a ship where no one would ask too many questions and sail off somewhere beyond her reach. Somewhere I could be free."

She could see the interest on his face, tea forgotten as he leaned forward in his chair, "The open sea can grant freedom like no other, when the wind fills the sails and there's nought but the sky and the stars above to guide you. Blue as far as the eye can see, sailing towards the horizon on a fast ship. It feels like you're flying when the hull rides the waves just right and the keel cuts through the swells like a hot knife through butter. Salt in your throat and the sun on your face, there's nothing on land that can compare to that."

He spoke of the sea as fondly as if he was describing a lover, a hand moving in the air while he talked and mimicking the motion of a ship. Snow felt herself smile at his vivid description and he smiled back, reaching for his discarded cup and taking another sip.

"If I may ask, what stopped you?" he queried over the rim.

"Lack of funds, mostly," she shrugged, "I made a few inquiries down at the docks but I didn't have the money. Stealing eggs from chicken coops was enough to keep me fed, but pirates preferred gold."

The captain's lips twitched at that, "Aye. Silver will also do in a pinch."

"Well, I didn't have any silver, either. So I ambushed what I thought was one of Regina's carriages and stole a ring, intending to sell it to raise the money I needed. But the man I took it from very much wanted it back, and he came after me to retrieve it."

His eyes drifted from her face down to her hand and he gave the ring in question a pointed look, "Seems this man failed in his quest, then. Or perhaps he succeeded in retrieving more than he expected."

"You've heard the story?" Snow asked, pouring more tea into her cup and saying nothing when the captain added another splash of liquor. The memory was as fresh as if it had been yesterday, she could still smell the aromatic tang of pine needles in the air and hear the crunch of the leaves under heavy boots. David - no - His Royal Highness Prince James - had ambled out from between the trees with an infuriatingly smug grin that she wanted to slap clear off his face while his pleased laugh only made her madder as she tried and failed to free herself from his carefully laid trap.

"I told you I'd find you. No matter what you do, I will always find you."

Captain Jones gave a nod, "Along with gold pirates greatly enjoy tales, milady. Helps pass the time at sea, though I doubt there's a child in the Enchanted Forest who hasn't heard the story of Snow White and Prince Charming. But I didn't know that you tried to book passage with pirates to escape-"

The ship suddenly rocked around them and the cups rattled in their saucers along with everything else in the cabin. Their eyes met for a moment, the same thought crossing both their minds in an instant and they quickly looked over at the bed. Emma mumbled something unintelligible, rolling over and shifting around while her plait came loose and the yellow ribbon fluttered down to the floor. But she didn't wake and the captain exhaled, eyes fluttering shut and relief clear in the slump of his shoulders as he sank back down in his seat. Snow turned away from her sleeping daughter and watched him, his large hands toying gently with the delicate china. It was painted with little pink flowers and looked more suited to a dusty cabinet in a grandmother's parlour than something that would be found on a pirate ship, she suspected that, like the sugar, it was not the sort of thing he normally kept on board.

"Why didn't you try to leave after you returned the ring?" he asked, the cups sitting empty on the table and the shadows growing long with the day. She had told him a few of the adventures that had never made it into the songs the bards sung or the tales the storytellers recited at the fairs and festivals while he listened attentively. His interest certainly seemed genuine, and she almost believed that he was being sincere.

Almost.

"If you need anything-"

"You'll find me."

"Always."

"Surely you could have found another valuable to trade for passage?"

Snow stood up to clear the table, placing the teapot and the cups back on the tray. Captain Jones rose when she did, standing with one hand resting lightly on the back of his chair. Even her mother couldn't have found any fault with his manners, were he dressed as a gentleman instead of a pirate he could have easily have passed muster at her court.

"Circumstances had changed," she answered, running a finger absently over the cup's gold rim and remembering the pouch of gold that could have easily paid for safe passage to any realm in existence, "When Regina forced me into exile after my father's death defeating her seemed impossible. It took everything I had just to survive at first and I thought leaving the Enchanted Forest was the only way out. But then I found something, or someone, I should say, who managed to convince me otherwise."

A flush rose on his neck, the long throat moving as he swallowed and flicked a glance over at Emma.

"I know the feeling," he said, softly, rapping his knuckles lightly on the wood before he clasped his hands behind his back again and stood at attention, voice turning formal again, "Thank you for bringing the tea, although you don't need to carry it back to the galley. I'll have my boy take care of it."

She waved a hand, "It's no trouble. My husband and I are both very grateful for your continued hospitality, Captain, especially since we do not have any gold at the moment to pay you for our passage."

A smile spread across his face at that, one thick eyebrow lifting in amusement. He wasn't her Prince Charming, but she had to admit he was a very handsome man and even more so when he smiled. Although, perhaps she would keep that particular observation to herself and not share it with David when she returned to their cabin.

"I would offer to take your lovely ring in exchange, but I doubt you'd be willing to part with it. The tale and the company is more than enough payment, I do not seek any gold or silver from your hands."

She nestled the sugar bowl next to the teapot and looked over at her daughter, still peacefully asleep. Pirates preferred gold. China teacups with little pink flowers and sweet cakes.

"Emma is my heir and can't marry without my approval. Do you seek my blessing?"

The blue eyes widened in shock when she tilted her head back to face him, his smile faltering at the bluntness of her question. But there was no point in beating around the bush, not while her daughter slept openly in his bed and his crew called her by his name.

"I...I would very much like to earn it."

He stood ramrod straight, back stiff and shoulders squared, reminding her of the officers who served under Captain Powell. Lieutenant Courtice had said that he had been a naval officer, once upon a time, a turncoat, a deserter. Murder…treason...treachery. There was a tale there, she was certain, much more to his story than what appeared on the surface.

"I'll keep that in mind, Captain."

Neither of them had moved to touch the cakes, the plate was still full and she left it on the table instead of putting it back on the tray.

"Emma will probably be hungry when she wakes, and she does love sweets."

Captain Jones escorted her to the door, a somewhat unnecessary gesture given the size of the cabin but her mother would have approved. She might have disapproved of everything else about him...still, it would have been a start.

"I see where your daughter got her gumption, milady."

He leaned against the frame, one foot crossed loosely over the other as he regarded her with narrowed eyes. Snow turned and acknowledged the comment with a faint smile before heading back down the narrow hall towards the galley below.

...

David was polishing his sword with a rag when she returned to the cabin they had been given on the other end of the ship. Small, but surprisingly clean and tidy, it appeared that pirates were better housekeepers than dwarves. She closed the door behind her as he hurriedly set the sword aside and asked, "How is Emma?"

Snow sat down on the edge of the bunk before answering, heaving a sigh as he swung around on the low stool he was perched on to reach for her hands, clasping them gently and rubbing his thumbs over the backs.

"She was sleeping."

His grip tightened and his voice went flat, "With him."

Her husband was….less than thrilled about the current sleeping arrangements aboard the ship, smarting over the fact that Emma had chosen to remain in the captain's quarters instead of joining them in their room. It would have been treason for a man to even attempt to share their daughter's bedchamber just a few short months ago back at court, but Captain Jones was not their subject and this was not their kingdom.

"She was just sleeping. Don't go running off to challenge the man to another duel, Charming."

A flash of guilt crossed his face and he suddenly couldn't meet her eyes, "Oh. You heard about that?"

"The ship is not that big. Of course I heard about it!"

She let out an exasperated breath while his shoulders hunched and he sounded defensive, arguing back, "It's not right, Snow. She's too young, and he's, well-"

"A pirate?"

"A man," he frowned, still looking at the wall over her shoulder. Snow noticed that his hair was even more grey than it had been when they first boarded the Mermaid's Song and cast off all those weeks ago, the lines around his light blue eyes cut even deeper now as if scored there with a knife. He had stood by her side for over twenty years now, as lover, husband, and king. She reached up and smoothed a hand over his creased brow, down the side of his face and across the faint white line that still marred his chin.

"We were that young once too, you know," she reminded him, "And we took...comfort in each other, before we married. Or have you forgotten those nights in the forest?"

His eyes took on a faraway look for a moment and the ghost of a smile crossed his lips before he shook his head, "That was different."

"Was it really? I was a bandit with a price on my head, but I was still a woman. A woman who loved you no matter how hard I fought against it."

"You just couldn't resist such a handsome prince as me."

She rolled her eyes while he winked at her, but it was all for show. David chuckled, it was an old joke between them, but his face quickly grew serious again and the hand holding hers tightened even more.

"Snow, do you really think that he's the right man for Emma? Our daughter?"

Did she? Pirates always knew which way the wind was blowing and if they were victorious then Emma would be restored as sole heiress to two kingdoms and a fortune that many would kill for.

"What if he breaks her heart?"

The concern in his voice almost broke hers, she felt the sudden ache in her own chest. But there were some things a father's sword couldn't guard against, and a broken heart was one of them.

"Then we'll be there to pick up the pieces. But I am not losing her again and if we try to keep them apart right now, we will. I know my daughter. She doesn't give up, because she's just like her father."

"But as beautiful as her mother."

She smiled at that, "So charming."

"Always."

David was not quite as lean as he had been the day they met, carrying a few extra pounds now around his middle, but the muscles in his arms were still firm and he lifted her easily and laid her out on the bed. Her fingers worked the buttons on his shirt and he shivered when she raked her nails down his stomach and tugged at the waistband of his trousers.

"I love you," she whispered, looking up and brushing her thumb over his lips.

His boots fell to the floor and were joined by hers, the linen tunic was tugged over her head and her hair spilled down loose over her breasts. They didn't ride quite as high anymore as they did when she was a girl but they still filled his palms when he reached to cup them. The dusting of freckles on his shoulders had darkened with age and the grey hair didn't stop at his head, but his kisses were still as eager as a young man's when he bent his head to hers.

"I love you," he said, sliding his palm down her leg and hitching her knee up.

Her thighs cradled his hips as they had done a thousand times over and more, twenty years falling away as she fell apart under him and he quickly followed with a rough groan, burying his face in the crook of her neck and going still. The sweat cooled on their skin as the light waned even more, they would have to rise and light the lantern that hung from the ceiling before it got too dark. But she didn't move, holding her husband tight to her breast and turning her head on the pillow. The quiver of arrows that she had brought aboard with her was laid against the wall, next to the tall curved bow that was rubbed smooth and shiny with long handling.

Captain Killian Jones would have his chance to earn her blessing. But if he broke her daughter's tender heart...she would take up her bow and put an arrow clear through his.