Emma age 16 and Killian age 20
Emma sits on the lakeside, throwing pebbles in the water. Her fingers wrap around the cold stones, throwing them away when they are as warm as her skin. A shadow casts over her, but she doesn't need to look up to know who it is. Only Killian would sneak up to her like that without drawing attention first.
"Hello Jones," She smiles at herself as she throws another pebble in the lake, immediately taking another.
"Your Majesty," He replies, using her formal title. "May I sit down next to you?"
"You may," Emma answers. "Is everything all right?" She questions as he sits down next to her.
"Not exactly..." He trails off, somehow he gives the impression that he does not want to burden her with it. Yet, Emma knows that if she asks, he will answer. He always does.
"What's wrong?"
"The King and Queen have summoned me. They know I was in your room last night," Killian answers, taking a stone in his hands. He throws it away almost immediately, as far as possible. It ends up in the water with a loud splash.
"How do you know?" Killian smiles at himself, running his fingers through the grass.
"Because the Queen came to my room a little after I arrived myself and asked me about it. Said she heard my voice. I thought lying about it would only make it worse, so I spoke the truth. I ensured her we didn't share the bed, she believed me but she still wishes to speak to me. This time with the King." Emma sighs, her chest hurts as she takes the deep breath, aching at the thought of him being punished for their actions.
"They won't send you away from court," She mutters. Killian gives a mocking smile.
"And who's going to stop them from doing so? You? Even if they promise you, they'll find their way around it. Your mother wants me gone because she thinks of me as a threat to your and Thomas' engagement."
"Surely that's not true," Emma looks at him, his face changes, like he wants to yell at someone, at her. And maybe he would have, if he hadn't loved her or if she hadn't been the princess.
Instead he closes his eyes and replies calmly, "She told me, Emma. She wants me gone." The gentleness of his voice triggers her to lean forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. Hesitantly he lays one hand on the small of her back, the other still leaning on the cold ground, fingers tangled in the grass. "Gods, I will miss those long passionate hugs of you," the gentleness in his voice replaced with teasing and joking.
"Shut your mouth, you're not gone."
"Yet," He replies. Emma pushes him away so that he falls in the grass. Killian starts to laugh, "You know from this angle you look..."
"Don't," She stops his words, turning her head away from him.
"Or what?"
"I don't know... Or I'll sit on you or something."
"So I was saying, from this angle -"
"Mr. Jones?" Both look up, seeing a guard. Killian nods, slowly rising onto his feet, "Her Majesty the Queen and His Majesty the King would like to speak to you," Emma gets on her feet as well. "No disrespect, milady, just Mr. Jones."
"Yes, and I wish to be there too," Emma simply replies while brushing the dirt off her gown. The guard nods once, but all three of them know she is likely to be send out of the room. Killian and Emma follow the guard, before entering the great hall Emma takes his hand, squeezing it once and letting go again before the doors open.
"Princess Emma and Killian Jones," at the sound of her name her mother lets out a sigh.
"I don't want you here, Emma," she speaks up, "I just want to speak to Killian."
"I'm aware of that, but I chose to ignore it, hence my presence."
"Very well, but you will be silent." Emma throws her hands up in defeat and leans against the wall. Her eyes drift around the room, eventually finding rest on Killian. Or rather, Killian's trousers. Even though the navy's outfit are loose trousers and white shirts, his trousers aren't that loose, and in fact accentuate his ass very nicely. She quickly looks away as she feels her cheeks heating up. Her mother had already started her lecture, most of it things that Killian had already told her, and Killian had always politely said yes or no. His hand behind his back so that they wouldn't just be hanging there.
"Have you spent more nights in my daughter's room?"
"Yes," Killian replies, he clenches his hands and Emma starts to wiggle on her toes. Both know that lying would be no better, but telling the truth isn't solving anything either. Sometimes, she wonders how big of a mess you can make before everything goes down, before there is no escape but to run away. Running away seems like such a tempting idea right now. Start over. Perhaps live on a farm, have lots of pets, and maybe children.
"What were you doing there?"
"I..." Emma starts, but her mother holds up her finger, silencing her almost immediately.
"Emma you were tasked to keep your words to yourself."
"But..."
"One more word and I will send you away." Emma nods, slipping down the wall, she pulls her legs up and wraps her arms around her knees. Her father had intentionally avoided her look and not yet said a word. For him it didn't matter, he knew Killian was a good man. And he was he just had a very close friendship to his daughter, but he also knows that he has no chance and he wouldn't get in the way of the arranged marriage. "Well?" Snow encourages Killian to speak up.
"Princess Emma does not have many friends," Killian starts, Emma frowns, but even she has to admit that she indeed does not have a lot of friends.
"Especially female friends." And even that is true too. "That she is royal, does not mean she is carefree. Sometimes she wishes to speak to someone, and it just so happens that I am her friend, if not best friend. She trusts me, I trust her. So she speaks to me,"
"And must this always happen in private?"
"Yes, some subjects are not meant for other ears than those of someone she trusts."
"But why always in secret?"
"If I asked you for permission to go to her room every night to talk to her, would you give it to me?"
"No," Snow simply answers. Killian remains silent, she has her answer now. She takes a deep breath and leans towards her husband. He shakes his head, but still she stands up. "Killian, I still want you to leave."
"Mother!" Emma yells, getting up from the cold floor, taking her dress in her hands as she starts to run towards her mother. But she stops two steps after passing Killian, as if trying to protect him. "He did not lie to you, why would you want him gone?"
"Because you love each other!" Emma shakes her head once and her lips start to tremble. She doesn't want to yell at her mother, but for now it seems like her only defence in a fight she will not win.
"That is ridiculous!"
"Watch your mouth." Emma takes a deep breath, straightening her shoulders.
"I already told father I would marry Thomas," Emma's voice is calm now, "I have a duty, and I will fulfil it. Please do not send him away for good." King David gets up, taking his wife's hand.
"I may have a solution, Emma please leave the room." Emma briefly closes her eyes before nodding once.
"Yes, father," she answers and turns around. Upon facing Killian she is reminded of his earlier words 'even if they promise you, they'll find their way around it' and she knows Killian is thinking the exact same thing. He gives her a small encouraging nod before she walks past him, straight out of the room. The last thing she hears before the doors close again is Killian being asked to step closer.
For what had seemed an eternity, she sat on the marble windowsill, across the doors of the great hall, looking over the garden. The doors open at last and her parents walk by her without saying a word. Her heart aches as she waits for Killian to come out as well, but when he does, he, too, walks straight past her.
"Are they sending you away?" Her voice is on the edge of breaking. Killian shakes his head.
"Not quite," he turns around, facing her, he looks tired and years older than he really is, "Emma there is something I have to do. I will come to your room tomorrow morning, all right?" Both force on a smile, for neither it's really all right, but they seem to be in a position that not exactly gives them another choice.
"Very well, I'll see you tomorrow then," Emma answers and turns around, making way to her room.
Emma only just got in her gown when her door is knocked.
"In," she says, braiding her hair. Killian opens the door, he appears to be wearing a brand new navy outfit. And sadly these trousers aren't as tight as the previous one.
"Good morning, Princess," He smiles, taking a small bow. He doesn't look like the same Killian that came out of the great hall yesterday. He looks confident, and wide awake.
"Good morning," she gives him a smile in return, "Is that a new outfit? Turn around."
"So you can look at my ass?" Killian smirks while turning around. Emma purses her lips.
"Maybe..." She teases. His new outfit seems to be coming with a sword as well. "What was wrong with your old word?" Killian faces her and hides a smile.
"Actually, this isn't mine, it's for you," He says as he takes the sword from the holster.
"Oh..." She falls silent in awe, she steps closer, seeing the beautiful shining sword in his hand, it's forged with great craftsmanship.
"Not good?" He asks bewildered. She laughs.
"Are you joking, Jones? It is gorgeous!" She bites her lips as her fingers touch the blade.
"Here is the best part," he says proudly, taking his hand from the handle, revealing her name inscribed in a beautiful calligraphy.
"How did you afford this?"
"Just accept my gift," Killian replies.
"You didn't steal it, did you?" And rather than being offended he laughs.
"Yes, from a girl named Emma. She was rather upset about it."
"Stop it," she mutters, taking the sword in her hand, it's not too heavy, nor too light. It's just perfect. The handle has a pleasant feeling. "So how did you afford it?" She questions, holding up the sword, looking at her reflection in the blade. A skinny girl with bright eyes stares back.
"I made it myself," he replies.
"I told you to stop it," she watches her lips as she the words come out of her mouth.
"I have," he answers. "I once told you about the son of the smith?" Killian asks, she nods.
"That friend of yours."
"Yes. My grandfather owned the smithy, when he got older he took another man in service. My friend's father," as Killian spoke, Emma sat down on her bed, still holding onto her new sword. Killian walked over to her and sat down next to her as he continued to speak, "However my grandfather kept working there until a few weeks before he died and since my father spent a lot of time on the sea as a lieutenant, I spent a lot of time in the smithy, watching my grandfather do his job. A few weeks back I went to the smithy and asked him to make a sword, for the princess, he asked me if it was an official order from the court and I said that it was a gift for you, I had but one problem; I had no money. He then gave me a deal; he would provide with me everything I needed and he would allow me to work in his shop, if I made the blade myself. "
"But these are really good materials, and this all because you are friends with them?"
"Probably because it's for you, too." Emma smirks, laying down the sword next to her.
"Thank you, Killian," she says, wrapping her arms around his neck, he's taken off guard for just a small moment, he then holds her close, embracing her in his arms. "I like it very much and I will take great care of it."
"That's good," he whispers, still not letting go. He holds her even closer instead.
"Are you all right, Killian?" She questions, stroking her fingers in his neck, the thing she always did when he was troubled.
"I'm not," he answers honestly, "I didn't just give you a gift," he admits, "I came to say goodbye..." he trails off and she lets go, as if she were burned.
"You said they wouldn't send you away," She mutters. Killian doesn't look at her, in fact he's doing everything he can to avoid her look.
"Not exactly, they won't send me away for good. Just for a rather long time," with each word he speaks he pains her, as if he were really hitting her. It hurts, realising he will leave her again.
"How long?" Emma questions. This time he does look up, in her eyes, sadness has taken a place in his eyes.
"A year," he answers. For a small moment it is dead silent in her room, she stands up, processing the thought of him leaving her for a year.
"No," Emma's voice fills the silence, she is silent as she starts to speak, but the more her words continue, the louder she speaks, until she is yelling her last word. "A year! That is just plain stupid! You came to say goodbye, so that means you'll leave soon, yes? Exactly how soon?"
"The ship leaves in an hour," Killian answers, somehow glad she isn't holding her sword anymore, because by the look she's giving him, she might as well have stabbed him right in the moment. "Emma, it will be over before you even know it," he objects, standing up, reaching out for her but she pulls away, taking a step back.
"Easy for you to say!" She yells. "You will have an adventure each day, your days will fly right past you. Whilst I am here stuck with my princess duties, my boring life and parents who want to wed me to a man who hates me."
"I wouldn't call him a man, he's seventeen," he tries to lighten the air, but she doesn't see the fun in it.
"Killian, please," she pleads. "Don't leave," she sits down on her bed again, "I will not survive alone." Killian walks over to her, kneeling down in front of her. For the first time since he'd known her, he has to look up to look her in the eyes. He lays his arms on the bed, stroking with his thumbs over her waist.
"It will be okay, you're the strongest girl I know,"
"That's stupid, you don't know that many girls," She mutters when tears well up in her eyes. Killian licks his lips, forcing himself to stop smiling. "Will you be careful?"
Killian nods, "As always."
She blinks the tears away, letting them roll over her cheeks. "Yes, that's why I'm worried." They both laugh softly.
"Glad you can laugh again, you are so much more beautiful with a smile on your face," she smiles even wider. Her eyes move from his eyes to his lips, parted a little bit. Without even realising she's doing it, she's leaning closer, and so is he. Her eyes close but hesitation stops her. When she opens her eyes again, he's further away from her. Still holding on to her, but no longer in kissing distance.
"I'm sorry," She whispers.
"Me too, but kissing you right now would definitely not be the smartest move," He gets up, kissing her forehead gently, "Please do not mistake me not kissing you for not wanting to kiss you. Believe me, I want to," He says offering her his hand, "Will you come and say goodbye to us?" He questions, she nods again. He stands up, offering his arm and she takes it. They walk through the corridors, down the stairs, all in silence, but side by side. She squeezes his arm, realising how real his departure is.
"I'll miss you," she whispers before they are in hearing distance of anyone at the harbour.
"And I'll miss you," Killian replies softly. The harbour is filled with people, citizens, people at court and her parents. "Princess," he says, kissing her hand softly.
"Lieutenant Jones," she gives him a formal nod, this is the first time someone has ever called him that, and he has to admit, he is proud of his title, but so bitter of the high cost: Emma's loneliness and pain during a year. "Do be careful."
"I will, Your Grace."
"Perhaps…" she takes her handkerchief from her sleeve, "A token, so that you will not forget me."
Killian smiles, "How could I forget you, Your Grace? I shall take great care of it," he promises while taking a bow. It is, as he turns around while stuffing her handkerchief in his pocket, that Emma realises he repeated the words she said earlier in her room. Emma turns around well, walking up to her parents, she greets them with a forced smile and stands still next to her mother.
"I am sorry, sweetheart," Her mom forces on a smile.
"No," Emma whispers, "You're not."
A Thank You, to Silvia, just for being the best, and helping me so much. I love you.
And to you, reader, reviewer. You keep me wanting to write. And a simple review - even if it's just one word - is always helpful, so for that, thank you.