a/n: I have a confession. Despite the fact that Quebec produces 75% of the world's maple syrup and I have lived in this (ridiculous) province for over twenty years, I have never been sugaring off. Truly, it's a failing of my elementary education. Originally this chapter was going to feature a picnic, but then I realized I had set it in March so sugaring off it is! And just to make things clear off the bat — "Lord Neal Cassidy" is not Baelfire. Neal and the son of Rumplestiltskin are two separate characters.
There was a short, familiar knock before the door opened and the king slipped into Emma's suite of rooms.
"I hear you're not feeling well today. Should I tell your visitor that you won't be able to go riding with him after all?" Her father crossed the room as he spoke, picking up the glamour charm from where it lay waiting on her vanity and running his fingers over the cool metal.
Before they'd parted ways back at the Naval Academy she'd told Killian that "Lady Swan" would meet him at noon in the stables and promptly feigned illness all through dinner with her parents and Prince Hans. There were no activities scheduled for the day, which left her free to spend a few hours with Killian under the glamour charm's disguise.
Emma smiled at her father's teasing and turned, moving her hair aside so he could fasten the enchanted pendant around her neck. "Haven't you heard? It's not me he's waiting for, it's Miss Swan."
"Ah yes, this mysterious 'Swan.' How could I forget?" Her father's fingers brushed the delicate chain as he released the clasp and Emma felt the veil of magic slip over her. Looking in the mirror, she saw only the face of a brown-haired girl with a longer nose and someone else's chin.
Her father, on the other hand, like her mother and Killian, continued to see her true features.
"He saw you? When you met him at the tavern?"
"He did," she blushed, hearing the different voice the glamour gave her. Emma's brow furrowed as a thought struck her and she frowned. "You're not going to send Aunt Red after us again, are you?"
Her father chuckled. "I wasn't planning on it, no. But Emma —"
"Be careful?"
The king sighed. "I know that you can take care of yourself, and I believe that Killian is a good man, but you cannot stop your parents from worrying. Your mother especially."
Emma squeezed her father's arm reassuringly before putting her cloak on. "I don't think it's Killian either of you have to be worried about."
"Prince Hans has already been given your excuses. I heard you had quite the swordfight yesterday."
"We did. I don't think I'm what he expected." She turned back towards him, the heavy, fur-lined cloak twirling behind her, and grinned. "Will you check if the hall is clear for me?"
The king moved back to the door but stopped with his hand on the knob. "You're going to tell him, aren't you?"
Emma moved towards him, crossing her arms over her chest. "I have to," she answered. "He deserves to know before he makes his decision."
Her father opened his mouth to say something but apparently thought better of it and leaned forward instead to press a kiss to her head. He peered out into the hallway, glancing to either side to make sure there was no one about who might question her exit from the princess's chambers.
"The coast is clear. Good luck."
Kissing him quickly on the cheek, Emma left the room and made her way down to the stables at a brisk, confident pace that she hoped would keep her from being questioned by the castle's staff. She had done the same thing dozens of times in the past but never before with a stomach full of nerves. Killian Jones already knew about the glamour charm but after today he would know her other secret — the reason why she even had it to begin with.
Crossing the courtyard, she caught sight of the captain waiting with the horses and picked up her pace. Seventeen months ago she had snuck out of the castle and met someone who saw her despite the careful protections she'd wrapped around herself. That night had been magical and scary and the first time in her life that she'd ever felt like herself, and not as though she were just trying to live up to everyone else's expectations. They'd had time together afterwards but it had been under the constraints imposed by her royal status. They'd not been free together until today, and while she was nervous about telling him her secret she was also tremendously excited to spend the day with him.
So excited, apparently, that she crashed into someone as she rounded the corner to the stables.
Emma stumbled forwards and caught herself before she could hit the ground, a hand gripping her arm to help steady her.
"I'm so sorry. Are you hurt?"
"I—" Emma righted herself, pulling her arm away and looking up to find that she had crashed into none other than Prince Hans. "I'm fine," she sputtered, silently reminding herself that he didn't know it was her. "Thank you, Your Highness."
"Alright there, Swan?"
Emma smiled in relief as Killian came around to join her. "Perfect, actually. Are you ready to go?"
"Is this your lady, Captain?"
Killian's hand flexed possessively against her back. "Aye, Lady Swan is one of the princess's attendants. This is my prince," he said, following through with the false introductions. "Lord Hans of the Southern Isles."
Hans bowed and lifted one of her gloved hands, pressing a chaste kiss to it. Emma smiled tightly, wondering if her actual ladies-in-waiting would be charmed by the prince.
"You are fortunate to have this time together," he said. "I had hopes of seeing the princess today, but I hear she is not feeling well."
"I wouldn't worry, my lord. I'm sure she will be back to her usual self tomorrow." She caught Killian's smirk out of the corner of her eye and turned to him. "Shall we go?"
"The horses are ready, you need only lead the way."
Emma took his hand, weaving their fingers together. "It was very nice to meet you, my lord," she said to Hans, giving a small curtsy. "Please forgive my clumsiness." Turning before he could reply, she led Killian away towards their mounts.
They left Prince Hans and the castle behind, Emma leading him across the bridge to the mainland and turning towards the forest. It had snowed a little overnight, but the air was warming and the unmistakable smell of spring was in the air. The trails were still hard packed however, and they led their horses at a leisurely pace through the woods. Killian had no idea where they were headed, or if his princess even had a destination in mind. He didn't mind either way and was perfectly content to simply spend this time with her where they could talk freely and without worry.
They didn't speak of the prince, or anything to do with the treaty. Nor did Killian press her to tell him whatever it was she had alluded to the night of the ball. Instead, he told stories that hadn't made it into his letters and was delighted by her easy laughter and the story she told him of how she hadn't used the glamour in months — not since the night she'd gone drinking with Happy and Sneezy and beaten them both at cards.
He estimated they'd been riding for about an hour when a cottage came into view through the trees, smoke rising warmly out of its chimney. As they drew nearer, he realized that all of the trees in this part of the forest were of the same type, and that spouts had been inserted into their trunks with buckets placed underneath to collect the sap. A sweet aroma filled the air and Killian breathed in deep, taking in the strange operation that he assumed was also their destination.
Emma caught his curious gaze and smiled. "Do you not have sugaring off in the Southern Isles?"
He shook his head. "I confess I have no idea what that means."
"Every spring sweet sap is collected and the water boiled away until all that remains is the most delicious syrup you've ever tasted."
"It's been fine weather for it!" a booming voice added. "Cold nights and snow melt during the days will make for a longer harvest than we've had in years."
Killian turned to see a burly man approaching from the cabin and glanced over at Emma to find her dismounting.
"You must be Master Merable," she said as the large man collected her reins.
"And you must be Miss Swan and Captain Jones, come to take part in the harvest today."
Killian followed Emma's lead, letting the gruff woodsman take both of their horses and following him over to a nearby wagon filled with empty metal pails.
"The sap from the east stand has already been collected, and I've got my boys working out behind the cottage," he said, as Killian moved to help him hitch their mounts to the wagon. "But if you head off that way you can change out any bucket that's collected sap since this morning. Bring it all back to the sugar house and we'll add it to the fire. Get you two a nice, sweet treat as reward."
"Will do," he said, climbing onto the wagon and holding out a hand to help Emma up. She settled in beside him, arranging a blanket over both of their legs, and Killian turned back to the tree farmer to give him a quick salute before gathering up the reins.
"Mind your speed on the way back. That sweet water is worth its weight in gold."
He nodded again and drove the wagon out until they were in the thick of the stand of trees. Each pail hanging from the trunks had a lid to protect the precious contents from falling debris. He estimated that there were about thirty or so trees that had been tapped in the area, with slender young ones growing in amongst them. Emma grinned at him and pressed a quick kiss to his lips before jumping down off the wagon.
"You know, Swan," he said, lifting the lid off the pail nearest to him and finding it over half full. "I had no idea what to expect when you arranged this little excursion, but not once did I imagine hauling buckets."
"It's a bit cold for a picnic, Jones," she countered, placing a fresh bucket underneath the tap as he hauled the filled one back to the wagon.
"Aye, I suppose it is. Do you come out here often?" he asked, pulling another filled one off its hook and replacing the pail.
"I used to, when I was little. They hold a feast each year towards the end of the season where everything is drenched in syrup. People from all over come for it. I had to have "Princess Emma" pull some strings to get us in here when they're busy with the harvest."
"Pull some strings to get us to work?" he teased.
"It's all worth it in the end, trust me," she said. She had wandered over to one of the wider trees and was checking the tap on the far side of it.
"Of course I trust you, Swan."
"Good," she said after a pause. "That will make this easier."
Killian shut his eyes as he set another filled bucket down on the ground. He'd known she'd brought him out here to talk about whatever was holding her back. Holding them back. Turning around, he found her standing a few feet away, hands clasped behind her, and eyes fixed on the ground. Killian stepped closer, wanting to assure her that it didn't matter what she hadn't told him — he loved her either way.
"Make what easier, love?"
She looked up at him and her face lit up with a beaming smile. Too late, Killian realized that she had also drawn one arm further back and his eyes went wide as he saw what she'd been hiding behind her. The snowball caught him on the side of the head and he grimaced, shaking it off and immediately crouching to retaliate.
Emma laughed as he stood back up, running to take cover behind a tree. His lobbed snowball struck the trunk uselessly but he continued to chase her down, finally catching her and pulling her into him as she shrieked and turned in his arms.
"That was bad form, love," he growled, tilting her backwards and leaning over her.
Emma just smiled and brushed the last vestiges of wet snow from his hair. "I disagree."
His lips were on hers before she could say more and she grinned into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Emma sat beside Killian in the cart of the now empty wagon, legs tucked against his side and fingers curled around a mug of hot cocoa. They had delivered their pails to the crew of workers who tended the pans of boiling syrup and had claimed some sweet taffy as their reward — hot syrup poured on fresh snow and rolled up with a stick. Killian had taken an immediate liking to the treat, leaving her to drive the wagon off into the woods so that he could focus on devouring his second stick. He was on his third now, his other arm draped around her shoulders, and Emma wished that they could just stay as they were forever. Cuddled under blankets, hidden away from a world that only wanted to take from them.
"I want to tell you about the glamour," she said finally, breaking the silence. "About why I have it."
He took a last pull from the sweet taffy and threw the stick over the side of the wagon. Emma leaned her head against his shoulder as he pulled her tighter to him, feeling him sigh as he pressed a sticky kiss to her hair. "I had figured as much."
From the moment she'd decided to tell him — months ago now — it seemed she'd done nothing but rehearse the speech in her head. Now, though, Emma set her drink down beside her and fiddled with her swan pendant, unsure of how to start. At the beginning? Or the way that she herself had found out?
"When I was seventeen, I wanted to be in love. The son of Duke Cassidy came to stay with us for the summer and he was always getting into places he didn't belong. His father was very rich, but it seemed like he didn't care about the trappings of his title... or mine. We became friends and would sneak about the grounds together, trying to find secret passageways, or going out into the city without guards. It was exciting. My parents had been keeping me closer to the castle and most of my time was spent learning administrative duties. When we would sneak out into the city together… I felt freer than I had in a long time.
"He gave me this," she said, holding up the swan necklace, "And he told me he loved me, that he was going to ask my parents for permission to court me. I think I knew even then that I didn't feel the same, but I'd never had a proper suitor before and I liked the idea of it. I liked the flirting, and the kissing, and the idea of finding love."
Killian's thumb moved back and forth on her shoulder as he held her close to him but Emma didn't look up. Her flirtation with Neal Cassidy was not the part of her story that might change his decision, but it was the most embarrassing for her to share. She'd been so blind and naïve…
"Eventually, he wanted more than just stolen kisses. When I wasn't forthcoming with my affection, he arranged for us to be attacked the next time we ventured into the city. He admitted later that he'd hoped his display of heroism would win him my favour, but when it didn't… it wasn't long until everything fell apart and the truth came out."
"I'm sorry that you were betrayed like that, love," he murmured.
She let out a breathy laugh at his choice of words and shook her head. "It was fate."
"Not fate, Swan. Just bad luck."
Emma shifted, sitting up to turn and face him. "No, it was," she insisted, needing him to know. "I didn't find out until after… my parents, they kept it a secret."
They'd kept it a secret from everyone, even those in their circle who now knew about the glamour charm. It was why they'd kept her close to home when she'd come of age, why they'd stopped going out into the city together, or on excursions like sugaring off. They'd hoped that if they kept her at home she would be safe, but they hadn't told her what was out there to be wary of.
Killian waited as she gathered her thoughts, smiling softly at her and tucking away a stray piece of hair. His hand trailed along the shell of her ear, down her neck and arm, finally twining their fingers together. There would be no turning back after this. Taking a deep breath, Emma squeezed his fingers tightly.
"I was cursed when I was a baby."
She waited, watching as he frowned, his brows knitting together in confusion. "Cursed… how? In what way?"
Emma pulled her hand out of his and twisted her fingers together anxiously. "It's called the Curse of Destiny and it can't be broken, only survived. Magic that powerful… They say casting it is what turned the Black Fairy mortal, and when the Evil Queen cast it on me… it killed her."
"The queen cursed you so that almost two decades after her own death, some lord would set you up to be attacked by thugs? No offense, love, but surely there are more efficient ways to have someone killed."
"It wasn't about death," she said, remembering the story her mother had told her about Regina and Daniel. "It was about pain. She couldn't take away my mother's happy ending anymore so she settled for mine." Shutting her eyes, Emma recited from memory, "Love sought will be love betrayed, coveted, and lost. That was her curse. Neal Cassidy was the love betrayed."
When she looked at him again Killian was staring at her in silence, mouth hanging open as he processed her words. "I would never choose to hurt you," he finally breathed, covering her hands in her lap. "You must believe —"
"I do. I wouldn't have told you if I thought otherwise." She swallowed thickly and looked down at where his thumb was brushing circles over her knuckles.
Emma shut her eyes again and exhaled as the weight of her exposed secret settled in her chest. So much of her energy in recent years had been spent pushing back in defiance of the curse and dredging up the pain of when her mother had told her — the fear and anger she'd lived with for months — hurt more than she'd expected.
"For a long time after I found out, I stayed in the castle. I barely left my rooms for almost a year. I couldn't make sense of it, couldn't understand why my parents would keep something like that from me. It felt like there was no one I could trust anymore, not even my own heart."
"What changed?"
"I did. Do you know why I still wear the necklace he gave me?"
Killian shook his head and she glanced down at where the swan pendant sat against her chest. "It's a reminder. That staying hidden isn't the same as staying safe. And that I'm stronger than I look."
"I'm sure there's plenty who could attest to that."
She smiled, his compliment drawing her out of the past and back to the present where he was by her side. "One day I woke up and I didn't want to hide anymore. That was when my parents got the glamour charm for me. It gave me my freedom back. You can't fall in love with someone if you don't know who they are."
He winced and scratched behind his ear with his free hand. "I'm beginning to understand why you reacted as you did at the ball the first time we met."
"You terrified me," she admitted, remembering how she had fled the ballroom and had to be calmed down by her father. "You still do. But you deserve to know what you're getting yourself into by choosing to stay."
"I'm not afraid of a curse. I'm staying, Emma, if you'll have me."
"I had a feeling you would say that," she whispered. "I'm just don't want you to be the one I lose."
Killian touched his knuckles to her cheek and tenderly brushed away a tear. "You don't have to worry about me, love," he promised. "If there's one thing I'm good at, it's surviving. Even if we're separated… it won't be forever. I'll come back to you. I swear it."
Emma smiled through her tears and nodded. She would always be afraid of losing him, but she had to believe that the risk was worth it… otherwise she'd be no better off than when she'd locked herself in her rooms and tried to hide from everything and everyone. He'd made his choice. It was up to her to do the same.
Killian's fingers threaded into her hair and she leaned in at the same time he did, letting her fear fall away under the strength of what they were together.