A/N: So…this is more than past due and I apologize for the delay, but the long awaited reunion is here! For those of you still reading, thank you so much for continuing to see this through with me. Your comments and kudos are so sweet and a huge source of encouragement to keep going. Life has been hectic and unfortunately my motivation for writing has been affected by life's stressors. That being said, this story is almost complete! Depending on the breakdown, it may be one or two more chapters left. Please let me know what you think! As always, please excuse any grammar or spelling errors.
Emma thrums her gloved thumb across a page of the small paperback, unconsciously clicking the tip of her tongue to the roof of her mouth in contemplation. Having done next to no research before beginning this jet setting adventure, Emma silently thanks Mary Margaret's obsessive preparedness for having the forethought to pack the pocket sized Danish translation book.
As she peruses through the Danish to English translations, she's careful to avoid the bustle of pedestrians and motorbikes as she makes her way on foot to the Amelienborg palace. Deciphering the map is difficult, but after a moment she determines needing to make a left down Bredgade Street.
Beginning at the palace isn't much of a plan, and she knows it won't be as simple as traipsing up to the front door and asking after Killian, but its worth a shot. He deserves an honest effort and something more personal than a text or phone call. She needs to at least try the direct approach before resorting to other methods that offer to many outs. Until then, hanging around the palace grounds – it is a tourist destination after all – seems the best way to watch for a glimpse of Denmark's prince.
As Emma makes her way down Bredgade, she comes toward a cross section in the street. To the left is a staggering iron gate, almost a rusty turquoise color, lined with soldiers in scarlet tunics, blue trousers, and oversized bearskin hats. The enormous gated doors are wide open, allowing people to meander through while the guards stand rigid but watchful. Opposite the towering gate to the right of the street, she glimpses a copper green domed cathedral. The Marble Church is dazzling in its architecture, a pillar of fortitude and creed towering above the swarm of pedestrians and tourists milling about and taking photos.
Standing in the middle of the street, Emma surveys her surroundings. In the peace offered in the shadow of the cathedral, she takes a moment to check the map and reference the translation book once more. If the line of soldiers and throngs of people taking photos are any indication, she assumes she's nearing the palace, and from the mass of people moving through the gate, Emma presumes the palace must be in that direction.
Not wanting to bother the soldiers for confirmation, she hastily flips through the translation book and mentally rehearses as she approaches a group of gaggling twenty-something year old women taking selfies in front of the cathedral.
She clears her throat and asks in broken Danish, "Er dette Amerlienborg-slottet?"
Emma expects to hear fluid Danish in response, perhaps a smile or disgusted frown at her horrible accent, maybe even a finger point in the right direction. What she does not expect is for the auburn brunette with bangle earrings and lilac colored beanie to beam in utter surprise and loudly exclaim, "Du er Emma Svane!"
Before Emma can comprehend the woman's statement – (question?) – the woman's two caramel blonde friends step forward from behind and simultaneously squeal, "Emma Svane! Emma Svane!"
Not needing to understand Danish to understand her own name, Emma steps back in hesitation, slowly backing away as other people begin to catch on to the women's excitement.
"Um, really I'm just looking for the palace. I'm sorry to have disturbed." Emma says, hands lifted in a placating gesture as she continues backing away from the women. From her peripherals, she sees more people begin to approach, her name in Danish flying around in rapid succession.
"Emma Svane!"
"Prince Killian's kæreste!"
"Det er hende!"
Emma's pulse quickens in adrenaline, her brain unable to process anything other than the old familiar sensation – run.
She needs to run.
Turning on her heel, she attempts to flee the swarming crowd but instantly loses her balance as an onslaught of camera flashes box her in.
Instinct taking over, Emma rights herself from pitching completely forward and darts past the irritating camera flashes and throngs of people shouting her name. Dodging people left and right, Emma unknowingly sprints her way through the iron gate up Frederiksgade Street, fleeing in the direction of the Amelienborg palace courtyard, shouts of "Emma Svane!" continuing to trail close behind.
-/-
Killian drums his fingers on the leather armrest, a repetitive rhythm fitting his irritable mood. The scene outside isn't helping matters, as the sun continues to hide behind an overcast sky and the temperature remains a steady -1 degree Celsius.
The morning offered endless rounds of state parliament meetings, with more assemblies to continue well into the week. His heart heavy and mind distracted, Killian's request for a respite had thankfully been granted. Not wanting to waist his precious time of escape, Killian and Robin eagerly climbed into the black Land Rover and headed for the palace.
"That was pure torture, I don't know how you endure it mate." Robin mumbles through a yawn.
"So glad to know you are taking my abrupt change in station so dutifully." Killian responds bitingly.
"It will get easier with time mate, just give it some patience."
Killian clenches his jaw in vexation, unsure whether Robin is referring to his duties as king or his aching heart regarding Emma. Either way, he's too exhausted to inquire, having once again slept poorly, his mind on constant replay of a spirited blonde over five thousand kilometers away.
He hopes Emma was willing to open his gift and read the letter. Of course, he wouldn't blame her for immediately chucking them both in the garbage - he deserves no less.
Everyday he's thought of calling her, and everyday he cowardly decides against it. He once promised to never push her too far, and if by some miracle she allows him back into her life, what would come of reuniting? Emma never asked to be plagued by all this royal nonsense.
In an instant, Killian is physically jerked forward in his seat, thoughts ceasing in their ruminations as the driver slams on the horn, forcefully hitting the breaks.
"You alright there, Killian?" Robin asks quickly, scanning Killian for any damage before turning his attention to the busy street outside the window.
"Fine mate, yourself?" Killian asks, dazed at their newfound predicament.
"Solid. You alright there Mr. Smee? What seems to be the trouble?" Robin addresses the driver as he continues to sweep his gaze between the left and right windows, protective senses in full force.
"Beg pardon your Highness, Robin, it appears we have hit some unexpected pedestrian traffic. Not to worry though, I haven't accidently hit someone. In fact, we are around the corner from the palace, but the street is bleeding tourists. There appears to be some commotion up ahead; the tourists are all running about. I swear I have never seen it this crowded, and it's not even summer." Mr. Smee explains from the driver seat, putting the vehicle in park.
"Not to worry Mr. Smee, steady course and all that, aye?" Killian expresses, readjusting in his seat and scanning the clambering crowd from behind the vehicle's tinted windows. Leaning back in his seat, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. The lack of decent sleep is causing him to be on edge. Perhaps a stiff day drink will calm him - rum is always a viable solution.
As they wait out the crowd, a small hum vibrates through the vehicle, drawing the attention of both Mr. Smee and Robin. A quick scan indicates the radio is off but the hum, almost chant like, continues.
"Mr. Smee, do you hear that?" Robin asks, head angled in perplexity, determined to find the source of the hum most likely coming from outside.
"Aye, but I'm hesitant to roll down the windows with Prince Killian in transport." Mr. Smee answers, looking back at Robin through the rear view window.
The hum continues to surround the vehicle but as the crowd slightly disperses, it's momentarily forgotten as Mr. Smee puts the vehicle in gear.
Ever the hypervigilant body guard, Robin continues to scan the crowd from behind the military grade tinted windows as the vehicle inches along. Amongst the bustling crowd, a figure catches his eye and he blinks twice to ensure he's not mistaken.
There.
Ahead of the crowd, or more likely running from the crowd - he's certain of it.
"Um, Killian? How many blondes in red leather jackets do we know?" Robin asks awestruck, face unwavering from the window as the vehicle continues to amble along.
From his rested position, Killian snaps to attention and follows Robins' gaze out the window.
It can't be?
Without a care to the vehicle being in motion or the mass of citizens and tourists, Killian violently wrenches the door open and leaps from his seat, sprinting in the direction of Emma, a robust "Swan!" echoing in his wake.
"Your Highness!" Mr. Smee exclaims, frantic at Killian's actions.
Robin, ever in sync with his best mate, closes and locks the door behind Killian, a beatific smile gracing his face as he orders through a barking laugh, "Keep driving Mr. Smee. I suspect we will be of assistance shortly."
Killian's heart summersaults as he begins catching up to her, gut twisting in jubilation at the realization Emma is here.
Emma is here in Denmark, and she's heading in the direction of his home.
-/-
Emma continues frantically running from the hordes of people. Gathering pace, she spies the famous statue of Frederick V in the distance – (not that there's an end point to this madness, but at least she's gaining ground?).
"Swan!"
The wind carries chants of her name, in both Danish and English, and as she dodges a young couple with a baby stroller, she curiously imagines hearing Killian's signature use of her surname amongst the screaming crowd.
"Swan!
Emma stops in her tracks, pausing in uncertainty. With a desperate glance behind, she desperately searches for the familiar voice only to find the source running toward her.
"Killian?" She whispers in disbelief.
The sight of Killian running toward her, determined face and eyes sparkling in amazement makes Emma's breath hitch in her throat. In an instant, she forgets the crowd and begins sprinting in his direction, his name falling from her lips in delight.
"Killian!"
"Swan!"
Emma leaps into Killian's open arms upon impact, the pair clinging fervently to one another as he spins her around enraptured.
Barely a second after Emma's toes reconnect with pavement Killian fuses his lips to hers, arms tangling in her hair as she clings tight in response, arms wrapping around his neck. The kiss is a jumbled mess of teeth and tongue, the push and pulls an emotional dance of atonement and an offering of absolution all at once.
They remain entangled as they come up for air, arms still locked around one another. Killian, stupefied at her presence, continues to press breathless kisses to her cheeks, forehead, and lips as questions of "How?" and "What?" escape him.
Stepping back but not leaving his embrace, Emma cups the sides of his face, thumbs gently sweeping across his cheeks, eyes glistening in nervous anticipation. "I - I love you Killian, and I'm so sorry for pushing you away. I let my fears overcome me, but I don't want to be afraid anymore. I love you, all of you, and I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."
Killian loses his breath somewhere in the back of his lungs.
Emma Swan is in love with him. Emma Swan is in Denmark, in his arms, and she is in love with him.
Loosening his grip upon her shoulders, Killian leans forward and gently kisses her forehead. Stepping back a fraction of a hair, he too cups the sides of her cheeks in the palm of his hands. With a beatific smile he emphatically expresses, "Emma, you have nothing to apologize for."
Emma smiles blissfully as Killian steps forward once more, effectively eviscerating the minimal space between them, their lips meeting in another soul marking kiss.
The pair registers nothing except the feel of each other's body heat and taste of each other's tongues. The crowd's delighted cheers and applause go unnoticed, as if they too are celebrating Killian and Emma's reunion.
As the pair continues to lose themselves in one another, the repeated blasting of a car horn startles them.
In an instant, Robin leaps out of the Land Rover startling Killian and Emma once more. Without hesitation, and before the pair can blink, Robin ushers Killian and Emma to climb inside, using the door and his body to block the view of the crowd. Scrambling back inside, he slams the vehicle door and barks to Mr. Smee, "Back entrance mate, hurry!"
Mr. Smee dutifully obliges, continually slamming on the car horn to disperse the crowd as he drives toward the gated entrance of the northeastern Brockdorff palace.
"Thanks mate." Killian manages, his grip on Emma's waist tightening as she sits atop him in the cramped backseat of the Rover.
"Ms. Swan, lovely to see you again. Bit of an untimely but fortunate surprise." Robin says with a gleeful grin.
Smiling sheepishly in return, Emma reaches over and wraps Robin in a one armed hug - (her other arm effectively locked around Killian's neck).
"Good to see you too Robin."
Within a matter of seconds, Mr. Smee pulls the vehicle to a stop under a covered back drive. Killian exists first, his fingers laced firmly with Emma's as she follows behind.
The palace is a cacophony of noise and bustling people. Emma's grip unconsciously tightens in Killian's hand as he ushers her down hallways, up staircases, and around corners. Emma doesn't have time to process the elegance of the palace, only glimpsing the auspicious art and décor, the cream and gold coloring of the walls, and numerous grand windows as she keeps up with Killian's hurried pace.
Still lost in the vast surroundings of the palace walls, Emma doesn't register being pulled into a room until the feel of Killian's hand slips from her grip. Turning, she sees Killian close a door before he's making his way back to her side.
"Forgive me Swan, but I wanted a moment alone with you before all hell breaks loose."
Emma straightens at Killian's remark, her face pinched in worried confusion. Before she can ask, he quickly clarifies, "Apologies love, I do not mean to worry you. Please know I am overjoyed at your presence – gods am I amazed you are here – but I wanted, needed, a moment alone with you, before all the pomp and circumstance of my position take over."
Emma relaxes and moves to clutch at the lapels of his suit jacket. Breathing in his scent, she tiptoes up and places a chaste kiss against his lips.
"I love you, Emma Swan." Killian whispers as he caresses the bottom of her cheek with his thumb, gaze passionately locked with hers.
Lovingly returning his gaze, a small chuckle of contentment escapes Emma. "And I love you."
After a moment of basking in each other's presence, Killian breaks the familiar comfort with a question.
"Not to sound too forward love, but by chance is Henry also with you?" He asks, eyes bright and brow lifted in hope.
This time Emma laughs aloud, the sound vibrating off the many books of the apparent library Killian whisked her away to. "Oh, so you only love me for my kid, is that it Jones?"
"Well, you are a very lovely perk to befriending Henry I must say. Oomph!" Killian rubs his abdomen from Emma's lighthearted whack before wrapping her in his arms contentedly.
"Unfortunately, we could only scrape up the one ticket. Plus, I didn't think bringing Henry along would be best. I honestly didn't have an agenda beyond finding you." Emma clarifies, spreading her open palms across his chest, a rueful grin coloring her features.
"We?" He asks curiously.
Emma shrugs, a soft smile on her lips. "I've always been the last to admit my feelings, even when everyone already knows them. Especially Mary Margaret, she and the gang made this possible."
Killian takes hold of her hands atop his chest and kisses her sweetly upon the inside of her palms, "Well then I am truly in the debt of your friends."
"Killian," Emma begins, shaking her head slightly, "I'm sorry for pushing you away. I'm not good at being vulnerable." Taking a breath to gather her courage she continues, "I couldn't take the chance I was wrong about you. Then you told me you loved me and that you are a prince - "
"Emma," He interrupts, eyes intense with determination, "I am the one who should be apologizing. I was not forthright with you from the beginning; the blame is entirely all mine." Shaking his head in self-reprobation, he continues, "I'm not angry with you love, I am angry at myself for being such a cowardly fool. I should never have betrayed your trust no matter how selfish I was in wanting to be with you. I love you Emma and I am so sorry for deceiving you."
Stepping forward, Emma wraps her arms around his neck in a gentle embrace as she kisses his cheek, accepting his apology once more. Resting her forehead against his, she whispers, "It's just us now. No more secrets."
Killian nods in agreement, fingers twirling the ends of her golden locks. "Aye my love, no more secrets."
They kiss once more, this time slow and unhurried, their hearts mending as one.
A resounding knock breaks their huddled peace as Robin opens the door and peaks his head through, a slight frown marring his face.
"I am sorry you two, but I can't hold her off any longer. She's impatiently waiting in the dignitary parlor."
Sighing exasperatedly, Killian nods in acknowledgement. "Thanks mate, we will make our way there now." Turning to Emma, he smiles mischievously, "Well my love, what do you say? Ready to face the duties of a royal life?"
Emma visibly pales, eyes brightening in terror as the reality of their circumstance once again presses upon her.
At Emma's hesitation, Robin reads the imperceptible cue from Killian and excuses himself.
Once the door closes, Killian turns to meet Emma's frightened gaze, tilting her chin up in silent comfort. "Love, if anything becomes too much simply say the word. I may have been born into this life, but that does not mean you have to blindly accept it. If there is ever something you do not feel comfortable with, please let me know. It'll be difficult, but with enough strategy, we can remain as private as we want, I promise."
"I honestly don't know what to expect. The magazine photos and the people outside, it's surreal." Letting out an indignant huff, Emma continues resolutely, "I knew what I was getting into when I chose you, when I made the decision to get on a plane and find you. But it is overwhelming, especially for an orphan girl like me."
Frowning, Killian takes hold of her hands in reassurance. "Well love, you don't have to worry. If there is one thing I am good at, it's surviving this crazy lifestyle. You will not have to go at it alone, I will be with you through it all." Ticking his brow up encouragingly, Emma laughs softly and nods in agreement.
Lacing their fingers together, Killian gently squeezes her hand in support as he leads them from the library.
-/-
"What in hell were you thinking? You are no longer living an anonymous lifestyle, you are back in the public eye of the people!"
Regina paces back and forth in her three-inch stilettos and black power suit and skirt. Her blood red nails drum across her folded arms in vexation.
"Forgive me for not giving a damn about any of that when the woman I love has flown thousands of kilometers to be with me." Killian growls.
"I don't give a damn if she was the bloody Pope! You are soon to be crowned the king of Denmark and therefore you should behave as such! What are the people to think of their future king behaving like a love sick school boy?"
"My lady, if I may, the people did not seem perturbed by it. On the contrary, they appeared rather entertained by the two of them." Robin adds smugly, leaning back against a windowsill, arms and legs crossed in amusement at Regina's ire.
"I did not ask for your opinion Mr. Hood." Regina snarls, side eyeing Robin.
"Regina, how about you get straight to the point? I'm sensing you have an agenda. Let's hear it so that I can get on with dismissing it." Killian says sharply.
Emma, sitting tensely in a canvassed wingback chair, straightens in defense when Regina's sharp gaze captures hers. Since arriving, she's been sitting silently throughout the meeting, eyes playing ping-pong as Killian and Regina verbally spar it out. Her instincts roar at her to chime in and stand up for herself, but this isn't her world and interrupting a royal official may not be appropriate.
"As it is royal family business, I will not discuss matters in front of Ms. Swan. Robin, please escort the young lady out so the prince and I may have a private word." Regina commands, sweeping her hand in dismissal.
Emma bristles at the dismissal but stands in resignation. Despite the retort on the tip of her tongue, the belittling voice she's heard since childhood suppresses her courage – you are nothing more than an orphan, so what did you expect?
"Absolutely not."
Killian's authoritatively firm voice pulls her from her self-deprecating thoughts. Turning toward him, he takes hold of her hand.
"Emma is a part of my life now, whether you like it or not Regina. Whatever plans you or my father may conspire, I have the final say, as does Emma."
Regina snorts uncharacteristically in response before spluttering, "You can't be serious. Are you trying to commit political suicide?" Stopping in her tracks, she leans forward from behind a chair, gripping the sides intensely as she admonishes, "You are the prince of this country, she is merely your blonde American girlfriend, and she does not merit any authority in this Crown!"
Alarmed at Regina's outrage, Emma tugs on Killian's hand. "Killian, maybe - "
"No, Swan. As I earlier expressed, I will not have you be side swiped and simply acquiescing to royal requirements. You have a say in how much or how little you take on of my circumstance, but know no matter your decision, I'll not keep you five paces behind. We are a team Emma - upbringing, titles, and tradition be damned."
"For heaven sakes Killian, it would be different if you two were engaged! You know as well as I do, this is vastly out of the norm of traditional propriety." Regina pleads, her tone challenging but less fiery.
Emma's heart quickens but before she can blink, she feels the gentle squeeze of Killian tightening his grip in her hand. Turning to meet his soft but assured eyes, she begins to relax at his reassuring touch.
Keeping his gaze fixed on Emma, Killian smiles warmly as he addresses Regina, "One day if Emma will have me, then yes circumstances will be different. But for now, I'm happy to let our love grow until the time comes when we are both ready."
Emma waits for the instinctual warning bells to signal, but they never come. Lost in the piercing blue of Killian's eyes, her heart steadies at the honest truth of his words - at the honest truth of her own desires.
One day – yes, but not now. For now, it's enough they are together.
Killian's confidence begins to waiver as Emma stares at him contemplatively, uncertain if he's once again scared her senseless. The room is silent save for the crackling of the ornate fireplace and unconsciously, he begins anxiously scratching behind his ear with his free hand.
Recognizing his signature nervous habit she's come to miss, Emma comes out of her thoughts. Not wanting him to mistake her silence for fear, and in keeping to her promise to never again make him be doubtful of her feelings, she smiles brightly as she presses up on her tiptoes and kisses him soundly.
Her lips are firm, supple, and Killian smiles underneath the kiss, savoring the moment.
More quickly then they would like, they break apart - (this time conscious of their audience) - both beaming with matching smiles and drinking each other in. Killian wraps his arm around Emma's shoulder blades to tuck her closer to his side, as she wraps her arm around his waist in return. Standing together, as a team, it becomes clear to Regina she's lost the battle, and perhaps the war.
Conceding defeat, Regina huffs a final breath of annoyance, before once more assuming her role as a commanding and tactful advisor. "Fine. We will issue a public statement addressing yours and Ms. Swan's relationship – today, before the tabloids beat us to it with a fictional piece of rubbish. Robin, radio our press department to join us."
Turning her attention to Emma, Regina assesses the blonde once more before stressing, "We need to iron out your history, Ms. Swan. We need to know what, if anything, you are willing to share about yourself. Be advised, if there is anything within your past unbecoming of a future princess, we need to know about it so we can be ahead of it. The last thing this family needs is another scandal, or even worse, someone vying for fame as if to be the next Princess Diana."
Emma steps forward, her earlier decision to stay quiet obliterated by Regina's appraisal. Killian promised her she'd have a voice, and she damn well intends to use it. With a gentle squeeze to his waist, she steps out of Killian's embrace to address Regina directly.
"I didn't know who Killian truly was when I first met him. I didn't know anything about his royal identity when I was falling in love with him. When he finally told me the truth, I ran away out of anger and fear that it was all a lie." Fighting back her insecurities, and meeting Regina's assessing stance, she continues confidently, "You have no reason to trust me, and I get it. Whether you believe me or not, understand I didn't come looking for Killian because he's a prince, I came looking for him because I am in love with him. I want him in my life, in my son's life."
Before Regina can process the news of Emma having a child, Killian moves forward to once again take Emma's hand in his.
"We may not have a clear picture of what is before us, but whatever it is, we will face it together on our own terms. My family has always appreciated your guidance and adherence to tradition Regina, but now it is time to set course toward a more modern precedent, of which your expertise will be most needed and appreciated." Killian expresses, an air of regality about him.
Regina looks toward Robin, her brows ticked upward in astonishment. Robin simply shrugs his shoulders and continues to grin emphatically.
"As you say, your highness." Clapping her hands together Regina continues, "Let's take a break and reconvene in an hour. Perhaps show Emma the kitchens, doubtless she's in need of food after her flight."
At Regina's nod of dismissal, the pair exits the room and once in the hallway, Emma feels she can breathe again.
"That was something else. Is she always like that? All commanding and assessing?" Emma asks.
"Aye, Regina has always been a bit scary but she has a good heart. Don't worry about her love, she'll warm up to you in time."
"What about when she finds out about my criminal history? She didn't seem to pleased to hear about Henry." She adds, biting down on her lip in concern.
Stopping mid stride, Killian uses their laced hands to pull her toward him. Resting his hands upon her shoulders, he steadies his gaze with hers.
Emma returns his gaze with a frown and skeptical eyebrow.
"Love, you don't need to worry. We will figure out the best course of action to address your history, but it doesn't matter."
"But Killian, what if my past ruins your reputation?"
"Oh Swan, my reputation has never been spotless. I don't give a damn about it and neither should you. It's enough that we know we are not who we used to be."
Emma nods but continues to bite down on her lip. "But what about Henry? He's too young for all of this."
Killian nods in understanding, his grip upon her shoulders gently tightening as his thumbs caress her in silent comfort. "I promise you Emma, I and the Crown will do everything within our power to keep him safe and protected from the public eye as much as possible. Henry is as much my priority as you are."
Exhaling, Emma allows herself to relax a bit. All of the logistics will be worked out, that's what the upcoming meeting is for. But for now, she has a quiet moment with the man she loves.
"Okay, I trust you." Emma declares softly.
"Truly?" Killian asks, quirking his brow up in amusement.
Emma laughs aloud and gives him a playful shove. "Yes, I do. Now can we please find these so called 'kitchens'? Turns out, I actually am starving."
Lacing his fingers through hers once more, Killian grins happily as he leads them down the hallway. "Aye love. It is high time you meet Martha. Head chef, mother figure, and overall best grilled cheese and hot cocoa maker this side of the Atlantic to rival Granny's."