Every time Killian thought he knew how to take care of a child's needs and understanding of the world, primarily because he had grown up himself and raised Alice into the nine year old girl she was today, he found himself stumped when he had to explain the most simple things taken for granted. Most children would have pointed at an object or asked a question when they heard something new that someone else said, but in the tower, nothing new came without him. The exception was when he was desperately low on food or when they needed water as there was no access to a well for miles around. The tower was alive, watching out for the safety of their inhabitants, especially since one of them was a permanent resident that was trapped by a blood bound barrier. 'Another imprisoned immovable friend', Alice had told him in hushed whispers.
In a way, the pirate turned doting father was thankful that it was under their untimely circumstances that Alice confided in him wholeheartedly and he got to spend and cherish more time with her more than the typical parent did. However, the limiting proximity she was invisibly shackled to and the things she missed out on because his roguish impulses and a devious witch happened to coincide left him seeking any way he could to free Alice from her gilded life. Although she often was full of life and did the most quaint of things like climbing on the bookshelf and smothering her bread with more marmalade than a sailor trying to stave off scurvy did, he saw how she miserably looked out the window with such longing or cried under her covers when she thought he was asleep. Killian's heart ached as he thought his little girl deserved the world and he couldn't give it to her except for some trinkets here and there as well as all the knowledge he could muster. If there was a thing most parents dreaded but he found fascinating or frustrating, it was whenever she asked her favorite question, "Why?"
"Why do I have to learn dancing if I'll never get to use it? There are too many steps," Alice huffed as she sat down on the rug in front of the hearth defeated.
It was one of those days again where Alice got irritated on the smallest of things, the trigger particularly on learning materials that attained to practical things she might need outside of the tower. It always started off with a heightened interest in something new, but then waned as the girl got frustrated, losing hope on learning things that she'll never be able to do if they didn't find a way to get her out of the tower.
"Well, I understand your frustration, but you will get out someday," Killian reassured her, stoking her hope and shooing away her doubts that similarly crossed his mind in the worst hours. Quickwittedly needing to pique her interest in dancing, he thought back on her ideas of love and being a dashing heroine like in the books he read. "And at some point, what if you're invited to a party or ball and happen to meet someone you fancy?"
Her cerulean eyes sparkled as they met with his matching pair, but she soon turned to the ground, acting disinterested. Alice crossed her arms, grumbling, "I'm not that quite sure what you're getting at, Papa." There was nothing she hated more than unkept promises or false hope.
He continued, "I've been to a few myself." Minus some pillaging and bargaining, the older man thought, thinking it best to leave out his truthful snark. Killian didn't want her getting ideas or jumping to be inclined to his former profession. Sure, he hadn't found much use for dancing himself while there, but that didn't mean she wouldn't.
"You'll be bored if you can't dance along with them, Starfish, stuck to the wall like decoration," he teased, knowing how she despised boredom. "If it makes you feel better, we can pretend we're in a ballroom right now, lit in the light of a chandelier. Won't that be pleasant? Do you want to help me rearrange the room or just sit there and watch?" he suggested.
Alice replied with a faint smile, "Sure," before getting up to help him move chairs and tables to dress the main tower space. As they did so, she thought of a barrage of questions, starting with, "Why do people need a separate room for dancing? We dance here just fine without." Although she had just learned of different things people call rooms to do certain performances in, it had never occurred to her that someone would have so much space and money to make a room just to dance in when they did their best to keep the single tower tidy.
Her papa's brows furrowed in confusion as he never thought hard about the reception until her inquisition. He smiled when he got the answer, replying, "I guess that sounds strange, but it's possible if you have the means, love. You can't have a ball without a ballroom."
Killian sighed joyfully as he looked around at the transformation the simple change had made the room feel. It felt more open with everything lined against the round rim of the tower's interior. He was shocked as it reminded him of the old minimalistic aspect he used to strive for, in case he needed to run at a moment's heed, but Alice had lovingly defined the place with toys and wares he bought or made. He laughed as his younger self would have never foreseen him doing this, let alone happy to be raising a daughter, his hands placed proudly on his hips as she moved the last short stool like he had asked.
The silver fox of a man enriched Alice's teachings further with analogies. "But, I swear to you, it makes sense just like how you sleep in a nook of the tower I've partitioned off to be your 'bedroom', instead of in the middle where we'll dance in our makeshift ballroom, normally dubbed the 'living room or hearth space', nor the 'kitchen' where we cook by the oven and over the stove."
"Oh, so that's why!" she exclaimed in resounding realization, happy to envision how the pieces fit together to make a bigger picture. "Then, what is a chandelier? Why do the royalty need them?" Alice asked as she sat down on a chair.
With clear certainty, Killian responded, "A chandelier is for lighting up the room, towering with candles."
"What a waste of candles," the curious child mused, thinking of how she and Papa spent half a day at times making new candlesticks in their fine layers by melting blocks of wax alongside misshapen candlesticks that burned too low, molding the cylindrical pieces by dipping twine in the hodgepodge.
"Some stuffy kings and queens have the money and grandeur for one, just like the ones mentioned in your storybooks. I suppose I should get you a dictionary some day." She stared at him, muddled in confusion, so he described, " It's a book of words and their meanings."
He took note to buy it for her when the yuletide season came again, bringing Christmas delight and treats. Killian continued anecdotally to Alice, invested in his own biases at the thought of greedy kings, queens, and nobility, explaining how the hierarchy works just like chess, how some of them were blinded with power given to them by luck of birthright.
Alice, loving chess and seeing it as a fun game, not something transmutable into reality, chimed in, "That's unfair! I'll crash in like you in your pirating days, Papa, just to steal cake or tell them off before taking some coins."
The middle aged looking dashing rapscallion, his true age dating back centuries, nervously laughed as while his skills had transcended with years of practice to boost his confidence, he was knocked down a peg as his inexperienced Alice was definitely serious about her silly notion. "It's not that simple. I think I've been telling you too many of my successes. If you ever do something like that, there's the danger that you'll get caught and thrown into a cage, a smaller prison far worse than the tower," he warned.
She frowned, disgusted at that, seeing any version of imprisonment as dastardly. He read her expression and apologized for ruining the mood by going off on a tangent. Changing the topic, he pointed to the tapered ceiling, asking her to look up at where he was pointing. "You see that pot and pan holder above the kitchen island? If we had a chandelier, it would hang there, with candles we'd light up on the fanciest of occasions."
"Can we make one?" Alice asked with wide eyes of yearning. She was sure Papa could make anything he set his mind to as he was very skilled with his hands, whether it was building a dollhouse, sketching a portrait of her, brushing her hair, or even braiding flowers he gathered into chains.
"Maybe one for the dolls, only if you learn dancing so they can too," he suggested. "The tower might make a fuss if the roof were to be engulfed in flames." Killian was sure the tower could keep itself from being flammable, but he couldn't assure that Alice would be able to breathe with the smoke, unable to flee the vicinity. He almost forgot they were pretending and not seriously going to great lengths to install a chandelier or the likes.
"In addition to you letting me fill your hammock with stuffed animals, that you have to sleep with for the night?" Alice added, an adorable mischievous smirk etched across her face. He nodded, rolling his eyes. "Promise?" she asked, satisfied with the agreement, holding her hand out with pinky outstretched.
He linked pinkies with Alice, their hands shaking them back and forth as if to strengthen the chain under a forge. "You drive quite the hard bargain."
With the room all set, Killian bowed, kissing her hand lightly as if he were a suitor asking for her hand and hoping to steal her heart. "Would you like to dance, Miss Alice?" He knew if he had any say in it though, he'd have two requirements, that no matter their reputation or background, if they made his little girl happy and would protect her with their life, that's all he needed.
Alice giggled before replying dramatically feigned shock and a curtsy, "Yes, I would love to." She stood back up, asking shyly, "What's the next step again?"
They started with a few box steps as he hummed out a tune and she counted quietly, him spinning her round at times. Time passed quickly as they had a fun time dancing as father and daughter, her learning the waltz in due time, then switching in both men and women's parts since he stated with a wink that "it could be useful." He believed Alice should be able to do anything she desires, no matter the gender norms society squeezed them into, ones that unashamedly shed at sea. Eventually, Alice took a seat as her legs tired and she started clapping out a beat as her papa decided to entertain her with a sailor's jig. Killian was missing a few steps as he was rusty, but he smiled brightly as she'd never know his mistakes, making some up as he went, proud to do anything to see a smile on her face.