Emma age 13 and Killian age 17
Emma looks up, seeing a guard standing in the doorway, "Mr. Killian Jones is here to see you," he announces, she nods. And he walks in, he has grown yet another few inches. his hair is a bit longer, and his skin is suntanned. This was the first time he had left for two months. Like her, Killian had been forced to grow up sooner and quicker, so that he may take the place of lieutenant as soon as he reaches the age of twenty. He now stands in the doorway, patiently waiting until the guard leaves, his blue eyes meet hers, they radiate safety, something she missed, a lot. The guard leaves and closes the door behind him.
"Hey stranger," Killian smiles, his voice has gotten even deeper, she's already standing up, running towards him and he opens his arms, getting ready to hold her close, and never letting go.
"Hello," she replies as they collide into a hug.
"You have grown," he is still smiling, laying his hands on her back, burying his head in her hair. Her hair smells nice, like vanilla and roses, a subtle scent that, while on the sea, had came to him in his dreams, it made him think of home. Of her.
"I missed you," she whispers against his neck.
"Good," he says, "I missed you too," she pulls back, her hands still in his neck, his hands still on her back.
"You did?" She questions. Killian smirks, letting go of her back to take her face between his hands, pressing his lips against her forehead.
"I would not lie to you, Princess," he replies, "I have missed you a lot." Emma looks up at him, slowly letting go as she realises exactly how they're holding each other. Killian nods, "Sorry," he mutters.
"It is not your fault, I held on to you as well," she gives him a comforting smile, then takes his hand and drags him to her bed. "So, Killian, tell me everything, did you meet any pirates?" They sit down, keeping their distance, and he starts to talk, stories of dangerous waters and swordfights, even pirates. She never takes his eyes off him as he speaks, never once losing her focus, as Killian tells his story he makes grand movements with his arms and hands, pulling her into his story.
"Oh my, it's a miracle you are still alive," she notes as he trails off. Killian gives her a guilty smile.
"Well..." He starts, "I might have exaggerated a few things, but it were my sword fighting skills that have kept me alive, yes," he smirks.
"Teach me," she whispers, "Teach me how to swordfight."
"Yes, and then having my hands cut off for teaching you un-princess-like things, no thanks."
"You have taught me many un-princess-like things," she objects, "and we could to it in secret," they fall silent, until she suddenly jumps off her bed, "About secrets!" She says and she's running towards her closet. The floor shows drag marks, and she shows him why; she moves her wardrobe. A little to the side, showing an entrance to a dark corridor. He stands behind her, looking over her head into the corridors, she looks back at him, telling him to take the candle on her desk, and he does. He hands her the unlit candle.
"Lit, idiot," she mocks him.
"I mentioned I missed you, right?" Killian grins as he takes a match from her drawer, and lights the candle.
"Come on," she takes his hand, and drags him into the darkness of the corridor. It's cold, cold like the night, with an unexplainable breeze.
"So, creepy corridors, how about that?" Killian laughs.
"They end in various places throughout the castle," she tells him, still holding on to his hand, "The harbour, the garden, another in the dungeons, the kitchen and another few who end up in a couple of other rooms, like the weaponry and some of the guestrooms."
"How do you know all this?" He questions, looking around, but all he sees is fire-coloured darkness, stone walls, and a princess, with pink cheeks, long blonde hair in a red gown.
"After you left, they announced Thomas and his father would arrive soon, I spent most days hiding in my room and I noticed that it was colder in the area around the wardrobe," Emma replies, they end up in a small room, about forty by forty feet, each wall with an entrance to another corridor. "I moved the wardrobe and wandered through these corridors," she speaks softly as she lets go of his hand to take the candle from him.
"How did you find the way back?" He questions, but the moment he speaks up he realises the question was unnecessary. She lighted other candles on the ground, showing her carvings on the walls next to the entrances of the other corridors; MY ROOM, KITCHEN, DUNGEONS, HARBOUR.
"This is one of the few rooms," she says, as she turns to face him, his tanned face looks golden brown in the candlelight, "The… eh," she trails off as she notes his eyes staring at her. "Why are you staring at me like that?"
"I'm listening," he answers, "not staring."
"You were staring," she objects and sits down against the cold wall.
"I feel bad for you," Killian sits down right next to her as he speaks, "I mean, you figured out this amazing hidden grit of hallways, but only because you were running away from your fiancé." Emma smiles, breathing out through her nose, and stares at her dress.
"Yes, why can't I just get married to you, will you marry me?" She asks, still smiling, looking up at him. He gives her a pained smile in return and nods.
"Yes, I'll marry you," he promises laying his arm around her, but never could he ever make that promise come true. She would marry a man she hates, and Killian would stand by the sideline, watching and unable of doing anything against it. Emma lays her head on his shoulder and not soon after he feels tears wetting his neck. She trembles as he holds her closer, letting her cry. Her parents barely allowed her to cry, she had to act mature. He wished she didn't have to feel that way, that she could be happy. And right now, he wished he had a title as well, so that he really could marry her. Even if it were only to protect her from Thomas. He had always felt protective over her, but most of the time she didn't need a protective shield, just someone she could be herself with.
"Can you please never leave again?" She mutters softly, her breath is warm against his neck, her voice still sounds broken like her cries.
"I wish, but when I earn the title of lieutenant, I must go on the quests with the ship. So I must leave you sometimes. On the bright side, I'll be able to tell you more stories each time I return," he smiles. She looks up at him, her eyes red and her cheeks puffy. He takes her porcelain face between his hands and wipes away her tears with his thumbs.
"I wish I could come with you, join you in the adventure, live the stories," Emma stands up, "Have you decided you will teach me how to swordfight yet, or not?" He stands up as well, towering over her. In his mind he curses himself, but he nods.
"If you want it so badly, we could do it in here," he smiles, she wraps her arms around his neck.
"Thank you," she whispered in his ear. And the gratitude in her voice, softly spoken, made Killian realize that maybe, even if he shouldn't, he would fulfil his promise one day.
A few days after his promise she walks through the corridors again, candle in her hand, letting the cold breeze stroke her face, in this warm summer the cold is pleasant. Killian had been absent from the castle almost every day and this for quite a few hours each day. She walks in the small room, lighting the candles. She reaches out for a candle lots higher than she is tall, Killian had put it there, taken the brick out the wall and placed a candle in the hole instead. Suddenly two hands grab her waist.
"Boo," Killian laughs. She screams, dropping the candle on the floor, it extinguishes almost immediately.
"Bloody hell, Killian you are such a boy, don't scare me like that!" She exclaims while turning around, he steps closer, getting ready to hug her.
"I apologise," he smirks in her hair, she pushes him away as he steps even closer.
"Something tells me you are not even sorry," she mutters, he laughs softly.
"Yes, that's why I said I apologise, and not I'm sorry." He replies. She steps on his foot.
"Stop teasing me like that," she demands him.
"Then don't make it that easy," he replies as he takes the candle off the ground and handing it to her, their hands touch. Her thin fingers feel cold but soft, he hesitates a moment before pulling his hand away, she already rejected his hug. "I got you something," Killian turns around and picks up a bag from the ground, he looks at her as he takes out two swords, while letting the bag fall on the ground back again. "The son of the smith is a friend of mine, I asked him to make me two unsharp swords, so that we can practise in safety." She takes one from his hands, looking at it.
"It's heavy," she notes. Killian smirks.
"I know, that's why this one is yours," he switches the sword she's holding for the one he is holding, and she nods.
"That is better," she replies as she balances the lighter sword in her hands. Her fingertips stroke over the unsharp blade, there is absolutely no way she could ever harm herself with this, or him. She could however give him quite a big headache if she ever decided to hit him in the head with it.
"Like you just demonstrated while running your hand so carelessly over the blade, these swords are harmless, but still," he grabs one of the two pillows off the floor and takes a rope from the bag, "Arms up," he tells her, she lays her sword against the wall and raises her hands in the air. He holds the pillow against her chest and wraps the rope around her twice before knotting it tightly.
"Can you still breathe?" He questions.
"Killian, my dresses are more than skin-tight, I think I can manage a rope thank you very much," she replies, Killian smirks and tugs the rope once more. "Ass," she mutters under her breath.
"Are you sure you are allowed to say that, Princess?" The boy smirks, grabbing his own sword, she hits his butt with her sword and smirks back at him as he turns around quickly.
"I do as I please," Emma answers, raising her eyebrows.
"I'm not sure," Killian starts, while tying the rope around his chest, "Should I be covering my ass or my chest before fighting with you?"
"I can tell you that you should definitely not be covering up that ass, in fact, take your trousers off."
"I wonder where you got that dirty humour, because I doubt that that is something your parents taught you?" He teases poking the pillow on her chest with his sword.
"I wouldn't know, Killian," Emma answers, hitting his sword away with hers, "I think it was the captain's son who taught me that."
"Really?" Killian asks, hitting back at her sword, "Should you even be spending time with that guy?"
"No," she replies, taking a defensive position, "But I can't help myself, he is rather fascinating company."
"Is he now?" He questions as Emma forces him to take a step back. She simply nods as their swords clash again. They continue their carefully hitting each other's sword, Killian sometimes stopping her to hold her sword differently, or taking better notice of her footwork. But most of the time he lets her figure it out herself, she copies his movements, his techniques. Until a point where they hear a door open. It is silent for a while before a whispering voice breaks the silence.
"Princess, are you here?" A female voice says, "It is I, Sophia. A guard is on his way to inform you that dinner is ready to be served." Killian moves quick, dropping his sword to untie Emma's rope.
"Sophia, Killian is with me, they cannot find him in my room," Emma replies, while doing Killian the favour and untying his rope as well. He looks into her eyes, but she shakes her head. "I trust her," she whispers.
"Send him over to the kitchen, Princess," Sophia's voice replies. The pillows fall from their chests on the stone floor with a soft thumb.
"Thank you Sophia," Emma replies, pushing Killian in the corridor that leads to the kitchen. "You'll end up straight in the kitchen. There is a wooden door, it's probably even open now," she says, "I'll see you later."
"See you later," Killian says, still a bit worried that the kitchen help might tell the King and Queen that they were in the corridors together. He could not tell them what they were doing there, but if he would leave it up to their imagination they would probably end up with far worse ideas than teaching their daughter how to swordfight.
"Killian?" Emma questions, he looks back into her eyes, "Stop worrying, and thank you for teaching me this, even though it could bring you trouble." He gives her a kind smile and walks into the darkness. Emma runs back to her room through the dark corridors, she just shoved the closet back into place when someone knocks her door.
"Dinner is ready to be served," it sounds from behind the door, "it will be formal."
"I will go to the dining hall myself, I must change dresses first," she answers, opening her closet - unsure for what occasion her parents would want a formal dinner now.
"If you insist, Princess," the voice replies and footsteps start to sound and fade away in the distance. She takes out a long, broken beige gown, and starts to take off the red one. When she is left in nothing but her chemise she stares at her body. Slowly but surely feminine shapes start to take and soon she will start to bleed, legally making her ready to wed. However she had asked her parents for a postponement on the wedding between her and Thomas, they had agreed and given her until her 23rd birthday, at most, and Emma had been happy, with this arrangement she could spend most of her youth careless about the wedding and careless about having to spend the rest of her years with Thomas. Emma pulls on her new gown and brushes out her hair, tying it into a loose braid.
The door is opened for her by two servants, "Princess Emma," one of them announces. Emma forces on a smile as she walks into the great dining hall. It was barely used, just for special occasions, like birthdays or when Thomas came by. Thomas had once said that the huge crystal chandelier had been unimpressive and that the silver cutlery was outdated, for they used golden cutlery in his kingdom. He had also been unimpressed by the grandeur of the room, the long dining table, the high chairs. Frankly nothing had impressed him at the time, and her mother still tried to make that spoiled boy comfortable. She looked around once more, before taking place next to her mother. Her father sits at the head of the table, and there are two more plates set up; one before Emma and one before her mother.
"Mother, father," she greets them with a polite nod. "Why the formal dinner?" She asks, but before either of them can reply the door is being opened again.
"Mr. Killian Jones, and Captain Jones, here for dinner," the same servant that announced Emma's arrival now announces. She looks up, seeing Killian, but he doesn't look at her. He sits down on the chair in front of her and avoids her eyes, yet, giving both her parents a polite nod, like Emma had done before. Killian's father sits down next to him, opposite her mother.
"My daughter asked me why we are having a formal dinner," King Charming breaks the silence, receiving everyone's attention, a servant walks up to him and hands him a rolled up paper, "It is quite simple," he states while unrolling the paper, "This is a contract, for young mister Jones, stating that the day he turns twenty, he will be made lieutenant," Killian's lips part, the corners of his mouth twist upwards while Emma's father talks, "Of course, there have been words of it, but this document will make it official. With your title comes a room of your own in the east wing, which you may occupy as of tonight and when your father wishes to retire, you will be made Captain," David looks over at Killian, smiling at him, "Is there anything else you wish for?" Emma looks at him, knowing exactly what circles his thoughts now, but he remains silent.
"No, Your Majesty. What you have given me is already much more than I could have even hoped for, I am most grateful," Killian replies politely, David nods once and takes the quill to sign the document, he then seals it with a royal seal and hands it over to Killian.
"Dinner will be served," a servant announces when the doors open, and a buffet is placed on the table.
After dinner Emma stands up, Killian stands up as well in a reflex. "I am tired," she announces as she looks at him. Killian nods and looks from her to her father, who sits back ungraciously due too many red wines.
"Your Majesty, may I escort your daughter to her room?" He questions the drunken King, he raises his glass of wine and smiles.
"You may," David replies smilingly and takes another sip of wine. Killian walks across the room, offering his arm to Emma, she lays her hand gently on his arm and says goodnight to her parents as they leave the dining hall. The door closes behind them and they are left alone in the empty hallways, they take small steps in the direction of her room. Her hand slides over his arm, until she reaches his hand and their fingers intertwine.
"Congratulations," Emma starts, "All is official when a document is signed," her voice betrays that she is not only talking about his contract, but also about hers. He squeezes her hand softly.
"I would have asked for you," he whispers.
"I know," she replies, while looking at him, "You hesitated. And who knows, maybe one day you will take me away from here," they stop in front of her room.
"Yes, maybe one day," he replies, kissing her hand gently. "Goodnight, love."
AN: Reviews are greatly appreciated and very helpful, just even a note on something you liked, didn't like, something I should change? It would help me out a lot!
I would also like to thank Silvia, for helping me out with my writing, giving me advice, and for being an amazing friend.