A/N: I could have broken this up, but why make you wait longer? Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not my world. Just my imagination borrowing them for a bit.
Killian held his sword to the woman's neck as he gripped her arm tightly, mostly to prevent her from hitting him again. She didn't move, her eyes wide in both fear and surprise. The pain in his head pulsed sharply and he wanted nothing more than to lay down and sleep for the next week straight, but his job, his duty, came first.
"I'll ask once more" he said roughly. "What are you doing on this ship, Your Highness?"
She looked startled. "Y-you know who I am?"
He nodded, then swallowed hard, the nausea still lurking in his gut. Quick head movements were out of the question, for now. "Aye, but that's not what we need to discuss right now, is it?" He tugged her toward the ladder, and she seemed too shocked to put up a fight.
In the light from above, Killian couldn't help but notice her striking beauty, the platinum yellow hair and deep green eyes he'd seen earlier just a small part of her alluring attractiveness and grace. She was dressed plainly, clad in a simple blue dress with a dark cloak wrapped around her shoulders, but the clothes seemed to taunt at a hidden radiance more than they could pretend to be the garb of a commoner. Her hair was tied in a braided loop against the back of her head, a few golden strands hanging loose against her cheeks. He could see the slight dimple in her chin, her skin smooth and pale in the dim light. And her eyes...
He was captivated.
He was in trouble.
She's the enemy princess! he reprimanded himself silently. Get a hold of yourself!
"Let's go, I need to take you to the Captain." He started moving her toward the open hatch, but she resisted.
"Please," the Princess begged, fear in her eyes. "Please don't turn me in."
"Why on earth not?" he asked. "We're in the middle of a war and you're the Crown Princess of our sworn enemy! You're a far more valuable prize than that ship we're towing."
"You can't bring me to them, they'll-" she cut off, biting her lip as she turned away.
Killian was tired, his head hurt, and he had no patience for politics, but there was something about her, the look in her eyes. Something frightened her and, from her expression, it was something that should probably scare him, too.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. Anger never solved anything, he'd learned that the hard way over the years. "What?" he asked as gently as he could manage. "What will they do?"
The princess looked back at him, her beautiful eyes glistening with fresh tears. "They'll kill us," she whispered. "They'll kill all my people, my entire kingdom." A single tear slid down her cheek.
That can't be true, he thought. When he'd been recruited to serve in the Royal Navy years back, he'd been told the true fight was with the king of Misthaven, King David, who'd stolen land from the Enchanted Forest on which to build his kingdom. Why would they want to kill everybody?
"How will turning you in kill everybody?" he asked, careful not to relax his grip on her arm in case she decided to smash him in his already-battered head once more.
She shook her head sadly but said nothing.
Killian pushed the heavy fog from his brain, forcing himself to think as he struggled to put the bits of information together into some coherent picture of what was going on. The Princess was hiding below decks on the Beetle and then the Jewel, clearly she didn't want to be found. And revealing her would cause the immediate death of all her people.
"The location," he said quietly, the pieces starting to fall into place. "You carry the location of the item our king seeks."
She bit her lip hesitantly before nodding, choosing her words carefully before she spoke. "It's not just some item," she whispered. "It's a deadly poison that your king wants to use to obliterate everyone in Misthaven."
Killian's head spun madly. His brother was right, he really needed to rest. Right now, though, he needed to think, but his head pounded painfully, distracting him. What if she's lying? he thought. And then even more chilling, what if she's not?
Could it be true? Could the secret they were chasing through the realms be a weapon? Could his king really be that vicious, that he would wipe out an entire kingdom to win an argument?
"Maybe you should sit down," she said, eyeing him oddly. "You don't look so good."
He flashed her a glare. "That's kind of what happens when someone hits you in the head, Highness."
She winced. "I'm sorry. I was desperate."
"That I gathered quite well on my own, thank you," Killian replied ruefully. "You left quite the impression, literally. I'd be remiss in my duties if I allowed you to strike any more of my crew."
The princess regarded him silently for a moment, and he couldn't help but return the stare, her eyes glittering in the dismal lighting. She was clearly evaluating him, deciding if she could trust him, and he was surprised to realize that he hoped she would.
"All right," she said finally. "You have my word that I won't knock you out again."
"Or run," he added. "I'm hardly in a position to go chasing after anyone right now, thanks to you."
"I won't run either," she promised.
He held her gaze for a few more seconds before removing his sword from her neck and replacing it at his side. He released her arm as well, lifting his hand to rub his aching head as he stepped backward to the ladder and sat on one of the rungs.
"Now talk," he said from his perch. "Why would King James want to kill everyone in Misthaven?"
"It's a long story."
"You can either tell me, or you can explain it to the Admiralty later. In irons."
The princess went over to one of the crates and settled herself on top. She fidgeted nervously with the clasp of her cloak as she sat in silence, looking down at her lap. A minute passed, maybe two, until she spoke.
"How long have you lived in the Enchanted Forest?" she asked.
The question startled Killian. "I've been a citizen for about 5 years, since my brother and I were recruited for the Navy." Odd time to be making small talk, he thought.
She only nodded at his response. "Tell me, Lieutenant, were any of your officers born and raised in the Enchanted Forest?"
He hadn't really thought about it before, but now, as he mentally went through the list of Lieutenants on board the Jewel, as well as the other ships in the Navy that he knew well, he realized that all of them had been hired from other lands. Even most of the midshipmen were not locals.
"No," he answered honestly. "Not that I know of, anyway. But what does that have to do with-"
"How much do you know about this war?" she interrupted.
He considered his words carefully. "Your king, your father, stole a large amount of land from King James, and he wants it back." It sounded like a line from a children's book, even to his ears, but it was the simplest way of describing all that he'd learned about the politics of the land since joining the Royal Navy.
She was quiet again, the silence broken only by the sounds of water splashing against the hull and the ever-constant creaking and groaning of a ship at sea.
"It was a lie," she said softly, not meeting his eyes. "Misthaven and the Enchanted Forest used to be one kingdom, which was divided about twenty years ago with the death of the king, your king's father. He divided it and gave half to my father and half to James, but it wasn't enough for James. He kept trying to grab more land for himself, piece by piece. My father was content to let him have the small villages he took at first, but then he started demanding larger farms, and eventually entire cities. He refused to concede those, and James decided it was worth going to war over."
She looked at him and continued. "In order to keep the secret, that the lands really belonged to my father, James only recruited officers from other lands, who wouldn't know enough about the history to question what was happening. He continued to tell his lies over and over throughout the years, until even those born and raised in the kingdoms believed it and supported him.
"And here we are now, ten years into a war that has taken so many good people. Only now, James isn't after the cities anymore, he wants to destroy the entire kingdom in one fell swoop, and then claim all the land as his own." She finished her tale, sagging a bit where she sat.
Killian just sat on the ladder rung, transfixed. He'd heard rumors that the war in which they were engaged had less than pure motives, but he'd never dreamed it could be this big of a conspiracy. How had he never seen it before? Or Liam, who had an eye for details and usually read people and their intentions accurately? Had they really been so thoroughly duped?
He realized he had been inadvertently rubbing his aching wound while she spoke, and now a sticky wetness coated his fingers even through the bandage. He pressed his hand against the tender knot as hard as he could handle without hurting his head too much.
One more question remained, however. "While that's certainly a compelling story, Your Highness, why should I believe anything you're telling me?" he asked.
He could see her swallow hard even in the quickly-fading evening light.
"Because," she said quietly, revealing the small wooden box she held in her hand, no more than three inches in either direction. "I have proof."
"I have proof."
Emma held out the box, at the same time wondering what the hell she was doing telling the Lieutenant of the Enchanted Forest's Navy all her kingdom's secrets. She couldn't explain it, and she knew she'd have to answer for what she was telling him at some point, but there was something about the young officer that she, apparently, had decided to trust.
It wasn't guilt, though she felt terrible about the obvious pain he was in, the slowly spreading bloodstain seeping into the bandage around his forehead - because of me, she thought regretfully.
No, it was something else, something about the way he looked at her, some deeper sense of honour and honesty beneath the officer who simply followed orders for his king. She had a feeling that he would do the right thing, once he knew what that was.
"What's in it?" he asked, pulling her from her thoughts.
"It's the poison they're searching for," she said. With her other hand, she flipped the small latches on the side and opened it. Inside lay a cutting of the deadly branch, it's sinister thorns glistening darkly with the lethal toxin.
"Dreamshade," she said. "A single scratch from this will kill a man quickly and painfully."
The Lieutenant stood and moved closer to her, peering into the box. He looked up at her cautiously, his eyes a brilliant shade of blue in the dimness of the room. He was so close that she could smell him - the biting sweetness of sweat over a faint spiciness, mingled with the salt of the sea.
He stepped back, his movements stiff and shaky. "That's not exactly enough to kill everyone in your land, Princess." He settled back on the ladder rung. "Besides, we were under the impression we were searching for a map."
Emma snapped the lid back in place quickly. She quickly wondered how much she should reveal to him, how much she was actually willing to trust him.
Whether he betrays me or not, it'll have the same end, she thought.
"I am the map."
He quirked an eyebrow at her, his expression almost comical if not for the deadly serious nature of the conversation.
"I know where the poison comes from," she explained. "And I know how to get there to find more." She thought sadly of the man who gave his life to tell her the crucial bit of information that only she knew, now. A botanist from Arendelle, who'd visited Misthaven a few months ago, had mistakenly pricked himself on the deadly plant while studying it for use as a potential medicine. Before he died, he told her what he'd found - the plant and the sail - and made her swear to never allow the information fall into the wrong hands.
"And where might this secret place be exactly? Another realm perhaps?"
She nodded, and his eyebrow lifted again.
"It's only found in one place," she said. "Neverland."
The Lieutenant sat quietly for a moment, his eyes never leaving hers even as his hand went up again to rub at his temple.
"Realm travel is impossible," he finally said softly. "The magic beans have been gone for years. There's no other way to get to other lands anymore."
It's now or never.
Emma stood slowly and unbuckled the clasp at her throat, flipping her cloak around in front of her. She eased the inner lining up to reveal what lay hidden between the two layers - a white cloth, so light it seemed to floated in the air.
He reached out a hand and fingered the impossibly soft snowy feathers covering every inch of the folded sailcloth. His eyes were wide when he looked at her.
"The Pegasus sail," he whispered.
She nodded, replacing the lining and slipping the cloak around her shoulders once more.
"I thought it was a myth, a fairy tale parents told their children at bedtime," he continued hoarsely.
"It's real," she said, sitting back down on the crate against the wall. "It's all real." She no longer referred only to the existence of the mythical sail that could cross realms, but the entirety of her story. She hoped he now understood just was at stake, and why she couldn't allow herself to be brought before the Admiralty, not just yet anyway.
He ran his hands across his face, rubbing his fingers into his eyes as he glanced around the hold with a dazed look.
"This is too big for me," he muttered. "I can't decide this alone." He moved as if to leave and she immediately jumped in front of him and held tightly to his wrist.
"You can't tell anyone I'm here," she begged, not bothering to hide the obvious note of pleading in her voice. "Please."
She weighed her odds against taking him down again. The man looked as if he was about to fall over from sheer exhaustion already, it wouldn't take much to put him out if she needed to. Just in case, Emma clenched the wooden box tightly in her fist.
Instead of pulling away, he placed his other hand atop hers on his arm, his blue eyes sincere with promise. "I need to tell my brother," he said softly. "He'll know what to do. I promise, I won't tell anyone else, but he can help us figure out a plan."
She must have already decided to trust him, well before she told him all her secrets. So why hesitate now?
"Trust me," he added.
Emma nodded once. "Just your brother, all right?"
He grinned, a handsome look on him.
"I'll be right back." He squeezed her hand reassuringly and then turned and climbed the ladder to somewhere in the ship.
"I hope you know what you're doing, Emma," she mumbled to herself. She backed away from the ladder in case of any visitors and went back to her hiding place behind the barrels to wait.
Killian raced along the decks of the ship as fast as he could. Arriving at his brother's door, he remembered to knock before bursting in. Liam looked up from his desk, surrounded by a sea of books from the Beetle.
"What's wrong?" he asked, jumping up in alarm.
"You have to come," Killian managed to wheeze, leaning over the desk heavily. Moving quickly wasn't such a great idea after all, he decided. The race of his heartbeat sped up the beat of pain against his head and his vision blurred suddenly as the room spun. He blinked a few times trying to clear his eyes, most of his weight supported on his arms against the wooden table.
Liam touched his shoulder. "Killian, your head, it's-"
Killian shrugged him off, and grasped his brother's arm tightly.
"I found her, Liam," he said. "She's here, on the Jewel. I need you to come with me, talk to her."
"Who's here? The woman who hit you?"
"Aye, she was hiding in the hold. I had a feeling, so I went down there and-"
"Killian, you promised me you'd rest!" Liam interrupted.
"Liam, listen!" Killian nearly exploded. His brother fell silent.
"You need to hear what she has to say. As my brother, not as Captain" Killian said, forcing himself to speak calmly, though every part of him wanted to scream at Liam, to hurry him down to the hold to speak with the Princess. "Come with me, please."
The Captain nodded. "All right. I'll talk to her. But I don't like stowaways, especially those who attack my Lieutenant."
"Thank you," Killian said. He grabbed the softly glowing lantern from his brother's desk.
Liam indicated toward the door.
"Well? Lead the way."
Killian led his brother through the ship toward the hold where the Princess hid, each step sending bolts of pain through his head. At the top of the ladder, he nodded to his brother.
"After you, Captain," he said. Liam descended the rungs easily to the hold below.
Killian stayed above for a moment, trying to calm the pounding at his temple. He prayed silently for the strength to get through this without passing out, hoping Liam would come up with a plan quickly so he could get some sleep. At least now they could take their time, sit and discuss what to do without the added agony of rushing about.
A muffled shout from below and the distinct sound of swords being drawn interrupted his thoughts.
There goes taking it slowly, he thought as he nearly flew down the ladder, lantern in hand.
His brother and the Princess stood at arms length, their swords pressed against each other's necks as they glared at each other.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Killian said as he moved between them. "Liam, put down your sword!"
His brother didn't budge, though he did turn his gaze on the younger Jones. "She's the Princess of Misthaven, Killian," he ground out through clenched teeth, "and our sworn enemy."
"She has what we need, brother," Killian replied, frustration edging his voice. "Stand. Down."
Liam shot him a fierce glance, but he removed his sword and slipped it neatly in its sheath at his side.
One down…
He turned to face the Princess, her sword wavering at the removal of Liam's from her throat.
"Please, Your Highness," he begged desperately. "Just talk to him."
She flashed him a glare of her own as she slammed her blade angrily into the slot against her hip. "You never said your brother was the damn Captain!" she hissed.
Killian collapsed against the ladder and sunk down to sit on a step, exhausted. "He's not here as the Captain now, Princess. He's here as my brother and someone who might be able to figure out what to do next. Isn't that right, Liam?" he said quietly.
"Quite," came the curt reply.
Liam and the Princess moved to sit on opposite sides of the hold, as far from each other as they could get in the small space.
We do not have time for this, Killian thought rubbing his head.
"Princess, if you would be so kind, please tell my brother what you told me," he asked from his perch "We'll make port in a few hours and we need to figure out what we're going to do next."
She started to repeat what she'd told him earlier, softly at first but slowly gaining confidence as Liam became more interested in her story. He asked questions, similar to those Killian had asked earlier, and he outright gasped when he saw the cutting of dreamshade she hid in the box. But the look on his face when he saw the feathered sail - that's when Killian knew that he believed.
Killian half listened to their exchanged, trying to come up with his own plan through the fog that muddied his brain. But anything he could think of only ended in their deaths. He looked up to see Liam pacing slowly across the wooden floorboards.
"The way I see it," his brother was saying, "either we find a way to run from this war, in which case we're hanged as deserters or, worst case, mutineers, or we confront the Admiralty, in which case we're hanged because we know too much. I'm not sure I see a way out of this one."
The Princess nodded sadly.
Something occurred to Killian just then, a nagging curiosity he needed to satisfy. "Your Highness," he asked, "what was your plan, originally?"
She blushed, her cheeks turning pink in the dim yellow candlelight. "I was planning to make a demonstration," she said, not meeting either of their eyes. "My plan was to surprise the military academy when the king visits, when everyone would be present, and show them just what their ruler was trying to accomplish in the war, and how."
By using the dreamshade on herself, he thought in horror. She was planning to kill herself to save her land. That can't be the only wa-
"I've got it!" he exclaimed, jumping off the step a little too fast. He wobbled slightly, Liam's arm coming up to support him. "I know what we can do. It's risky, but I think there's a good chance it'll work."
He quickly told them his plan. The Princess was skeptical it could work, and Liam was blatantly opposed, but after a bit of persuasion, they both came around.
"You're probably right," Liam agreed with a sigh. "I think this is the only way."
"Agreed," said the Princess, her fingers playing with the clasp at her throat.
Killian grinned widely. "Now we just wait until morning."
The Captain retired to his cabin for the night, promising to set aside a few spare changes of clothing and some food they could take with them come morning. The brothers had argued briefly about where everyone else should go for the night - namely, her. The Lieutenant was adamant things should remain as normal as possible until the last moment; the older Jones still had duties to attend to as Captain, and it would call suspicion on everyone were he to break from his role in the slightest. Lieutenant Jones volunteered to guard her in the hold during the few remaining hours of darkness. The elder brother looked angry as he pulled him aside - an unnecessary maneuver as Emma could still hear his harshly whispered words demanding he take care of himself and get some rest.
"I can tend to his wound," she had offered, stepping forward. "After all, it was my fault in the first place. And I'll stay hidden. He can sleep on the spare ropes and if anyone finds him, he'll just claim he was sleepwalking. Then no one will think to look for me."
The Captain had nodded his agreement, though he didn't look too happy, and left the hold, not before shooting his brother a steady glare.
The younger Jones sagged against the crate looking thoroughly exhausted. She went over and sat beside him.
"Thank you," she said softly, "for believing me."
He nodded absently. "Don't thank me yet, Princess. It's not over."
Emma knew it was a good plan, but she couldn't help the nervous twisting in her belly as she thought about all that could go wrong.
"Here, let me take a look at your head," she said, hoping the distraction would calm her down.
She reached up and found the end of the cloth, gently unwrapping it as he sat still, his eyes following her every move. He winced as she removed the last of it, and something sharp flashed in her chest. Just sympathy or something more, she wasn't sure she wanted to find out which. She folded the cloth, hiding the blood-soaked area under clean white. She dabbed at his temple, trying to clean off the fresh blood that had seeped from the cut in his hair. He hissed, flinching from her touch.
"Sorry," she murmured.
The Lieutenant reached behind his back and brought forward a small leather flask.
"Water," he said, offering it to her.
Emma took it and screwed off the top. Careful not to waste any, she splashed a bit onto the bandage.
"How did you find me here?" she asked as she wiped his head, careful not to press too hard on the obvious bruise.
He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You're something of an open book," he said quietly. "And you seemed quite determined to get away from me on the Beetle. The enemy's ship would be the last place anyone would look for you, so it made sense that's where you'd be. Clever move, I have to admit."
She blushed at his compliment, ducking her head so he wouldn't see the smile starting to spread. She could feel his impossibly blue eyes watching her as she cleaned off the last of the blood.
"May I ask you a question, Highness?" he asked.
She nodded, focusing again on his wound.
"Why did you kiss me?" She didn't answer right away, couldn't answer, because she didn't have a reason. He reached up and pulled her hand away from his face. She looked at him, finally, as he continued. "I mean, you probably could have hit me without it, I wouldn't have seen it coming either way."
She shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
This time, it was his turn to blush, a slow redness that crept up his cheeks to the tips of his ears.
She put the cloth down behind her. "I'm finished here. Do you want me to wrap it with something?"
He shook his head. "Leave it," he said. "It'll heal faster in the open air." He stood slowly, a groan escaping as he rubbed the back of his neck.
"If you don't mind, Your Highness, I think I'll try and get some sleep."
"Emma," she said.
He looked confused. "Beg your pardon?"
"You can call me Emma. All the handsome men I hit in the head are awarded that privilege." She smirked at his flustered expression. A Navy man like him, he probably had been drilled on using proper titles at all times.
He recovered quickly. "I wouldn't be surprised if there are quite a few of those unfortunate gentlemen lying around somewhere," he said with a grin. "You seem to have natural talent for it."
He extended his hand to her.
"All right, Emma," he smiled, and she couldn't help the fluttering feeling in her chest when he said her name. "Then I'm Killian. Killian Jones. It's an honour to meet you."
She slipped her fingers in his and shook, the gentle strength of his hand squeezing hers a comfortable feeling, his long fingers brushing across the inside of her wrist sending sparks up her arm.
Killian released her hand and went over the stack of coiled ropes. He settled slowly onto the floor, his arms folded across his chest, head resting back on the thick lines as he closed his eyes.
Emma watched him in the flickering lantern light as she chewed her lip nervously. She had been planning to give her life to end the war, to call attention to the heinous crimes of King James, and she was prepared to see it through. But now that she had help, now that they had a plan, it really hit her how real it all was, how close she had come to dying when there was another way, if Killian's plan ended up working. The sick feeling in her stomach was worse, and she could feel her fingers trembling, her legs shaking slightly under her skirts.
She was terrified.
"There's plenty of room here, if you want," she heard him say softly. His eyes were open in narrow slits, a gentle expression on his face.
"I don't bite," he added, "as long as you don't."
She hesitated, not sure what to do. She should hide, she knew, in case of wandering crew members during the night. She also knew she shouldn't be sleeping in the arms of an enemy officer aboard his ship, regardless of what he planned to do to help her, especially because of what she wanted to deny feeling for him. But at the same time, there was that something about the Lieutenant, that she couldn't help but trust him, and that scared her just as much.
She made her decision. Her life was already in his hands, sitting beside him should be no big deal. She turned out the fire in the lantern and made her way to the ropes in the near absolute darkness.
Sitting next to him on the floor, she leaned her head slightly against his upper arm. He shifted a bit to give her more room, reaching his arm around her shoulders as she rested stiffly against his chest.
"I'm scared, too," he whispered into her hair.
She twisted her neck to look up at him in the dark. She could just make out his tired eyes, the fear hiding behind the dark pupils identical to what she felt in her own.
"How did you know?"
He smiled and rubbed her arm.
"Open book, love."
She grinned, and snuggled closer. His other hand reached across his body and held hers, gentle fingers on the back of hers around the small box that was still grasped in her fist. For the first time since the war began, she felt safe, protected.
"Sleep well, Emma," he whispered.
"You too, Killian."
They were both asleep in moments.
A/N 2: "Breaking bulk" refers to the pilfering of a ship's cargo by the crew.