Let me start by thanking you for the notes and comments of condolences about my friend and mentor. Her passing was quite a shock to me and I know I will feel it in the days, weeks, and months to come. It's funny. I hear her voice so clearly in my head now as I write, telling me to do something different or to fix something she would hate. I hope that she knows just how much her guidance and friendship meant to me and others.

So on with the story. This chapter is a bit long, but the original chapter got lost with a computer glitch. I'll have another chapter up within a few days. Enjoy!

Killian found himself staring across the deck at the man, his sword raised almost lazily. The man had said very little, expressing only necessary details unless caught off guard. However, the more time the pirate had spent observing, the more he learned. For instance, the man had a practiced way about him that spoke to his training. He moved almost gracefully with measured steps and flourish.

"You're quite adept at that," Killian said in an almost taunting way. The light haired man surged forward slightly, drawing a defensive stance out of the pirate and then pulled backward. Most of the crew was watching, save those looking after the Queen Elsa below deck.

"It's something I've picked up," he challenged back. "I've been trained by the best."

Killian's response was a hummed affirmation before he drew his sword sharply, the blade almost grazing the man. "A compliment always seems to disarm an opponent. He either becomes flustered with the gravity of it or believes it to be so."

The man smirked, raising his eyebrows up. "Overconfidence is similarly as effective," he sing-songed. His own sword swiped at Killian and in an actual duel would have delivered a punishing puncture. His free hand splayed outward and the smirk turned more triumphant. "I never trust one who has a high opinion of his own talents."

Moving toward his right, Killian made a swiping motion, the blade whipping in the thick air. "Never mistake confidence for cockiness, mate."

The two continued their taunting spar, each one upping the other and earning a bit of admiration and respect along the way. It wasn't until one of the men spotted rougher seas ahead that Killian had to see to the ship's safety. He did make the concession that the man not be taken back below deck, but instead left there for the duration. When he came back to him, the light haired man said nothing and stared out at the water.

"Who taught you to fight as you do?" Killian asked, hoping that he could get an honest answer.

"Another man of the sea."

It was an imprecise answer and one that did not offer Killian new information. His own vague recollection of how he had learned such things did not do much to help. He could recall some lessons in the naval academy and yet more of it was learned from a life that had given him courage and scars. "How close are we to her?" he asked, trying a new tactic. "Your wife?"

"A day or two at most," the man said. "I've been in this situation before, you know. I've been captured and goaded into believing I would die at any moment. It's not something I particularly appreciate in my life. I rather hate it. I hate going to sleep at night wondering if this is the last."

Killian ignored that sentiment, instead focusing on his memories of how he had learned certain things. In terms of sailing, most of his knowledge came from his brother who had "You were planning to go back to them?"

"My family?" the man asked, confused at the pirate's question. "Of course. I love them. They are my life, but I don't expect a pirate like you to understand that. I did what I did on the seas for money to support them, to feed my children, and take care of my wife. You do it for sport and fun. There is nothing honorable in that, sir." It was by far the most the man had spoken, his eyes flashing hotly.

"I don't suppose I can," Killian said. He left him there, bewildered and less a prisoner than before.

***AAA***

Dear Emma,

I certainly look forward to letting my eyes rest upon your face again. While I have no reason to believe I deserve such a moment, I hope that I shall be granted one after delivery of your friend to you. Though our time together was brief, I am not too proud to admit that I have missed our daily chats and walks. So to think that I may hear that sweet voice of yours again as you tell me little tidbits, I am excited at the possibility.

Your dear friend will arrive safely and ready to assist you with your quest. She has not revealed the true nature of it, as I think she fears I may use that information to gain favor from you somehow. That is not my true nature. I content to be of service to you as a courier or a soldier, yours to bid for your service.

Emma refolded the note before finishing it again, her distress palpable that she was going to disappoint this man. The weather was such that her mother had refused to allow Emma to go to meet Elsa's arrival, saying that a carriage would suffice for the trip and that Emma was best to keep to her magical studies. Unable to explain why she was wanting to meet the ship and its captain, Emma had walked away before she let her anguish come to the surface.

Emma stood at the window in the small hallway off of the kitchen, her arms wrapped around herself in the drafty morning air. She had imagined seeing Killian again a million different ways, his smiling face and his dimples to show his own pleasure with her presence. She wanted to smell the soft leather of his coat and feel his arm as she looped hers through his. It was far too risky to bring him to the palace with her parents feelings toward men like him, but Emma had hoped to at least see him in the port village where he would be delivering Elsa.

However, Mother Nature had other plans as rain pelted the window. A steady downpour made seeing even the nearby stables hard. With each plop of water against the glass, Emma felt her hopes dashing away.

"It's for your own good," her mother had said, skirts swishing in her retreat to the work she had set for herself.

Emma had barely contained her scowl. She was a grown woman now, far beyond the age wear tantrums and sulking were common. But the young princess's bottom lip protruded and her arms were crossed over her chest defiantly. She knew that she had no recourse for the Queen's directive, at least not one that did not reveal her desire to see Killian. Yet the disappointment created a painful ache and for a moment she imagined scampering away to see him despite the repercussions.

"It appears to not be lessening at all," Red announced as she entered the hallway. "Set in for the day probably."

Not able to make herself talk without some caustic remark, Emma bit her lip and nodded. She turned abruptly from the window and faced the woman, hoping that there was some other reason for her visit to that area than discussing the weather. However, Red's face remained an amused twist of emotions that did not validate the way the Princess felt at all. "I should go back to the library. I believe my mother and Regina found some more texts for me to read about him and the curse that made him the way he is."

The dark haired woman's head tilted to the side as she stared knowingly at her god-daughter. "You were hoping to go to meet Elsa, but mostly go to see him."

Emma didn't bother to ask who she was referring to in that statement. "I invited Elsa and asked her to help me, but I am not even going to meet her."

Red scoffed. "It's more than that. You want to see him, admit it." Again, the woman said no name, as none was truly needed, brushing her hair back over her shoulders, she frowned. "Your mother is worried about you. You are barely sleeping. You are practicing your magic nonstop. Even the Blue Fairy is telling us that you need rest."

"I'm perfectly well."

"No, you're not, but I can't say that it is all due to missing Killian Jones. It is in part, I suppose. But you are not just heartsick. You're worried and wanting to do the right thing. It might do you a world of good to see him. Now mind you, this isn't me giving you permission to do things. It is just a chance for you to see him and to hear his voice."

"That sounds like you believe me to be heartsick," the Princess chided. "My only malady at the moment is feeling quite useless. I'm a grown woman taking directive from her mother."

"Her mother is the Queen," Red said with a slight raise of her shoulders. "Everyone obeys the Queen, grown or not." Red's concern was evident as she pulled past the blonde woman and looked out the window. "I had hoped to try a new area today, see if I could find a trace of the Dark One. It's harder than finding most, I must admit. He doesn't usually travel by foot, using his magic to appear in new locations rather than exerting himself."

"Wonderful," Emma muttered. "Nothing about this is easy. We can't just make him appear. We can't find him. How are we to make this work when it looks like there is no way to summon him other than his own schedule and timetable?"

A gust of wind blew more of the water in waves against the window. "I have no doubts that your family will find a way. We should count ourselves lucky that we have not been made to fight him too soon."

"I suppose."

While not a complete vote of confidence, Red accepted that and continued to look through the wavering light at the damp surroundings. "Your mother said they were sending a carriage to retrieve the Queen Elsa. No sense in having her stay at an inn or something while we wait for the weather to clear. Those places are barely better suited than any danger from traveling in this sort of weather."

Emma's bright blue of her dress stood out starkly against the cold stone color of the corridor. "My mother must think I am quite weak to not be able to withstand the weather to go to greet my friend. I have survived worse."

"All of the strategy we have for fighting the Dark One lies in your ability to do magic. Your mother is only concerned that an illness might derail those abilities. You would be a lot less intimidating with a cough and a sneeze." The woman's eyes danced with kindness as she watched Emma dismiss the idea. "But I was thinking that perhaps a trip to the village would be good. The apothecary might have a remedy for the aches and pains that Granny has been feeling. And if the carriage is going…"

Emma tried to smile, grateful that at least Elsa and Killian would not be greeted only by a carriage with instructions for the Queen's travel. "You would make a fine companion for Elsa," she said.

"You and your mother are the most I can appreciate when it comes to royalty," Red said. "I was thinking of something a bit slyer." Emma's eyebrows raised in surprise. "You see if your mother were to think you were alone with your books and the only thing people saw was someone in my cloak entering the carriage, nobody should be any the wiser."

"Red, that would not be very honest of us."

"If you don't think…"

Emma's features clouded over. Could it be that simple? Could she really just don the velvety red cape that was Red's signature? Would nobody notice? The Princess considered this for a moment before smiling. "I think I can do one better than the cloak," she said. "Come on."

***AAA***

His men were doing the job of a crew double their size, something that did not go unnoticed by Killian. He was proud and grateful, though he couldn't rightly show it without more of the demeanor sliding away from the surface. So he smiled from time to time and called them names a little less often. Perhaps they would appreciate that.

Killian stepped below deck to find Elsa's door open. The Queen was seated with a book in her hand and balanced as though the bigger than normal waves were not creating havoc with her nerves already. He asked her if she needed anything, though he had assigned Smee and another to see to her needs and wants while aboard the Jolly Roger. She was holding her own though and spent most of her time below decks with a book in her hand or writing to Emma. She placed few demands on any of them, but the few times that she did she was coldly direct and unwavering.

"Your highness, with the wind at our aid we'll arrive in port within the next few hours," he told her from the doorway. "I shall send some men to carry your belongings once we are secure in the slip."

She silently nodded, more a reflex than anything. When he asked if she should need anything else, she looked up at him. "Any word from Emma today?"

The scruff on his face did not hide the tint of pink on his skin as he darted his eyes downward. "No, milady," he said. "I had hoped…"

"I have not heard from her either," she explained. "I assume her to be busy."

"Aye," he responded. He dared not to tell Elsa of the last two letters he had written to the Princess that were far more hopeful than he could usually muster. He was honestly a bit embarrassed by the rawness of his emotions that he couldn't quite place nor name. He spent his words telling her that he missed her and hoped to see her again. Perhaps that was why she had not written back, unable to tell him the same. He wasn't even sure that he could blame her, as her station was such that he was merely a passing fancy, a curiosity for her, and not someone that a princess could actually miss. He bowed his head to Elsa and took a step backward, stopping when the regal woman spoke.

"She will be there today if she can," she told him matter-of-factly. "I will take it by the way your breathing just changed and the clench of your jaw that it is her presence you were hoping for in all this."

"I didn't…"

"You didn't say it, but it is written on your face, Captain. And she has spoken quite highly of you in her letters to me. So I feel safe in saying that she wishes to see you too." Elsa's dismissal of him came moments later as he made his way to a storage hold to lose himself in his work.

Killian busied himself with the inspection of the storage hold. Like he had told Elsa, he was no better than his crew and not above doing the work of the lesser titled men. Making a list of the supplies they would need for further travel was relatively easy and mindless work. He made it through most of the reserves rather quickly, thinking to himself. He was so deep in his thoughts that he did not hear Smee enter the musty and dark hold.

The shorter man squealed in surprise, asking forgiveness for the display in his next breath. "I only meant to have a moment alone," he explained quickly. "I didn't realize you would be here."

"No offense made," Killian answered back, taking a step off the makeshift ladder he was using. "I was only doing a bit of work before someone was assigned."

"The crew is a bit sparse these days, Captain," the man said. "It does the men good to see you joining us in the efforts."

Killian sighed. "I don't think that my taking inventory will be enough to restore the faith of the crew in me, Mr. Smee. I know there is talk that I have gone soft."

Under the low light of the lantern that the men were using to see, the shorter man's face reddened. "There is talk, sir, but only talk. The real men of this ship know you. They know your heart sir and know that you are a true man. We trust you."

"No need for false sentiment, Mr. Smee. Now tell me what has you so worked up that you would need a moment alone. I've never known you to be so emotional as to hide away."

Killian busied himself with the inspection of the storage hold. Like he had told Elsa, he was no better than his crew and not above doing the work of the lesser titled men. Making a list of the supplies they would need for further travel was relatively easy and mindless work. He made it through most of the reserves rather quickly, thinking to himself. He was so deep in his thoughts that he did not hear Smee enter the musty and dark hold.

The shorter man squealed in surprise, asking forgiveness for the display in his next breath. "I only meant to have a moment alone," he explained quickly. "I didn't realize you would be here."

"No offense made," Killian answered back, taking a step off the makeshift ladder he was using. "I was only doing a bit of work before someone was assigned."

"The crew is a bit sparse these days, Captain," the man said. "It does the men good to see you joining us in the efforts."

Killian sighed. "I don't think that my taking inventory will be enough to restore the faith of the crew in me, Mr. Smee. I know there is talk that I have gone soft."

Under the low light of the lantern that the men were using to see, the shorter man's face reddened. "There is talk, sir, but only talk. The real men of this ship know you. They know your heart sir and know that you are a true man. We trust you."

"No need for false sentiment, Mr. Smee. Now tell me what has you so worked up that you would need a moment alone. I've never known you to be so emotional as to hide away."

The man sighed heavily and dug into one of his pockets to pull out the map that had been on Killian's desk. "It's the map to where the Dark One is," he explained as though Killian might not recognize the parchment. "The village we are headed to is near there. No more than two days by horse."

Killian's eyebrows raised skeptically as he peered over the paper at the upside down map. "You are quite sure, Smee?"

"Very sure. We'll be fools to ignore this."

"We are anything but fools, Mr. Smee."

***AAA***

The dining table of the large banquet hall was used primarily for state dinners and other such functions that seemed of little importance at the moment. Regina and Snow had taken to combing through some of the old maps of the kingdom, trying to find traces of where the Dark One would be hiding.

"Your husband," Regina said, not glancing up from a tattered map that had been hand drawn by a prospector years earlier, "seems to think of this as a military operation."

"My husband wants to surprise the Dark One instead of sitting here and waiting on his appearance. Taking the fight to the enemy is a tactic that has served him well in the past."

Regina knew that to be true, as Snow and David had defeated her under similar circumstances. "He's a powerful sorcerer and you're planning to use a blade or arrows to defeat him." She was essentially calling them amateurs at the process, but she held back. "You've got to think more strategically. We've got to use magic."

"Emma's working on that each day. If you find her so lacking, perhaps you should offer her some assistance." Regina's answer was caught in the air as the Queen greeted her old friend, hugging her tightly. "I had wondered where you got off to today," she smiled.

"I've been about," the dark haired woman said with ease, casting a furtive glance to Regina and then toward the doorway where she had entered. "I was coming to see about catching a ride with the carriage on its way to retrieve El…the Queen Elsa. I had hoped to catch a ride upon it."

"You needn't do that," Snow told her fondly. "I've arranged for the transportation. Elsa's the independent sort. She'll be content to make her way under their auspices rather than us making a huge fuss over her. And it has been so long since you have been here. I've missed having my dear friend nearby."

The werewolf took a moment to cast an unsure glance over her shoulder at the blonde princess waiting in the shadows and currently unseen by the Queen. "It's just that I cannot do much in the way of tracking or hunting down the Dark One with this weather. I'd like to feel useful and would think that picking up a few things for Granny."

Snow's head jerked upward from the miscellaneous items she had been inventorying on the table. "Is she not well? I know she's been a bit tired, but is there something else? Oh my, I've been so distracted. I didn't even realize."

The other woman tittered nervously. "She's fine. It's just that she likes to have that special tea when her arm gets to bothering her. She'd never ask for it, but it does soothe her."

The Queen frowned. "I could ask the driver to retrieve it, but I know you. You want to do something. You're never content to sit and rest. You're so much like her, Red. I see it more every year that passes. Very well. I'll inform the guards and driver that you shall ride with them today."

From the shadows, the blonde woman smiled as Snow darted from the room to see to the arrangements. Gathering her skirts, the darker haired woman was retreating when she heard Regina's voice.

"Well played, Emma," she said, her voice fully accusing. "Your own mother didn't recognize you."

***AAA***

Killian thanked the server who brought his ale, nodding appreciatively and trying not to judge Elsa's sour expression. "I suppose this is not your usual fare, your highness," he said with a restrained smirk. "I'm afraid there are very few establishments in this village and none that would be suitable for you."

"Is that what you truly think?" she asked, a defined arch to her eyebrow raising. "Royals aren't so pampered and removed that we aren't privy to the happenings of a tavern or harder life. I'm just not a fan of this particular ale. It tastes a bit off to me."

He suppressed chuckle at her unhidden disgust of the strong drink. "Aye, that it does."

"You don't have a good opinion of those of us of royal lineage do you?" she asked, her head tilted as if that might help her understand better. "I know that Emma does not seem to receive the barely contained disdain you feel for us, but overall?"

Killian had just eaten a bit of the stew that the tavern owner claimed was fresh so it gave him a moment to chew and think. Perhaps it was the fact that Emma had not seemed all that high born to him at first, but he thought of her as a woman first and a princess second. That would probably come back to haunt him, he thought bitterly. Others like Elsa carried themselves as if waiting for people to bow down both literally and to their every command. He couldn't very well say that to her. "I don't think it is as simple as that, milady. I rule my ship as some kings rule their kingdoms. I am the authority and the last word on all decisions, as if she were her own kingdom."

Considering this, Elsa's flawless features contorted in confusion. "But shouldn't that make you feel a kinship to us. Shouldn't you realize the enormous responsibility we feel and that ongoing challenge to balance our own desires with the betterment of the kingdom?"

"Aye," he said, taking another swig from the mug. "But there is a difference, your highness. You and other royals were born into your responsibility and privilege. You rule not because you were deemed to fairest or most qualified, but because the blood that runs though you is believed to somehow be better than anyone else's. You fight to keep your kingdoms, to not allow another to take over. A man like me must fight for everything I have. My brother and I fought for every scrap of food we had and every opportunity we earned."

"You would rather a utopian society where there are no rulers and all are equal?"

"No, I'm not that naïve to think that would work. I merely am of the belief that respect and loyalty are earned and not freely given because of a crown upon the head."

Breaking off a piece of the hardest bread she'd ever had, Elsa dipped it in the broth of the stew and swirled it about for a moment. "Emma has that same blood, that same struggle for balance, and someday will rule this kingdom. I know that you have seen past her lineage or else your scary pirate demeanor wouldn't crack at the mere mention of her name. You have looked to the door each time someone walks into this place in the hopes that it will be her entering this establishment."

His hand dropped the crude spoon into the bowl and raised up to the back of his neck. "You seem to be enjoying the observation of me. I am curious about Emma's well-being. She proved herself to me to be a hard worker and far above the rules of her station with the way she assisted those family friends. What I have felt for her is sincere admiration."

"Is that all?" Elsa asked, her lips thinning in her study of him.

"I am failing to see what it is you are searching for, your highness. Emma earned my admiration and I am doing her a favor to deliver you to this village. I'm quite certain that you won't find anything more nefarious in my intentions."

Elsa laughed lightly. "I don't think it is my place to discuss your intentions toward Emma. I am only satisfying my own curiosity."

He tipped his head toward her playfully. "I'm so glad to be of amusement to you," he said.

"I have a sister," Elsa said, her voice steady and sure. "A younger sister who is quite full of life and as a child full of mischief. She's the brave one in the family, fearless and headstrong. She speaks before she thinks and is always saying something that will embarrass me. When we were children and played with Emma, I was always struck that Emma could be such good friends with the two of us. We are quite different and yet Emma could see the best in each of us. A very remarkable trait."

He did not meet Elsa's eyes, knowing that the Queen was not done with her prying, despite the story she was spinning.

"You've met her recently and seen the quieter and more guarded version of her, but Emma used to be so light and full of life. She wanted to be the perfect combination of her parents with her mother's stubborn strength and her father's selfless bravery. We have spoken of that often, spoken of how we would both someday rule kingdoms that others would envy."

"From the stories I hear of your kingdom, you are well on your way," Killian offered. "And I have no doubt that when the time comes, Emma will do so as well."

Elsa did not acknowledge the compliment except with a sad smile. "It's a funny thing," she said. "When you're born as the heir to the throne people begin to talk about your reign from the moment you arrive. You're taught things. You're groomed for it. Emma and I have been sitting at our parents' sides in court for as long as we could sit still. Our birthdays are large celebrations where town people we don't even know give us gifts like chickens or hand sewn quilts that we later give to the poor. There are debates about who we should marry. There are contracts and negotiations about every aspect of our lives."

"Sounds appalling," Killian answered, not sure why the Queen was complaining to him when they had already established his condescension.

"But what nobody tells you as an heir is that you are essentially living in a purgatory limbo waiting for the day when the crown is yours. Your life is not your own because you are waiting for the coronation that will give you a chance to break free of the preparation, the ceaseless preparations that do not seem to matter a bit. And what they don't tell you is that you are waiting for your parents to die."

"That's a dark view of your role, milady," Killian answered. "Is that Emma's view too?"

"In some ways it is," she said. "Emma wants what we all want – what all people want – to live a life that is of her own choosing and making. She wants her decisions to be about her and not about citizens she doesn't know or parents who have already had their chance at a different life. She has burdens and responsibilities that you will never know or understand. So it isn't my amusement that I'm trying to find in my observation of you. I'm only trying to understand and satisfy my curiosity that you are not going to hurt her."

"She has far too many people watching my every move to allow that to happen," he said with a short almost soundless laugh. "I enjoy her company, your highness. She is smart and funny, a charming woman who has made me smile more than I have for any good reason in a long time. I have no reason to hurt her, nor any reason wish her harmed."

***AAA***

Red had to admit that pretending to be a princess, even one hidden away with stacks of books, was not as easy as she had imagined. When David had come to check on her, she had almost bowed out of courtesy. Then she almost referred to him by his name rather than as father.

"She didn't even tell you how to change back?" Regina queried from her own seat in the upper library.

"I don't have magic so it would have done no good. Besides we need them to believe that Emma is here working away and not off in that carriage." Red's own education had been sparse in a parochial school long enough to read and write basic words. She had read more over the years to increase her knowledge, but unlike the royal family she had not been schooled in foreign languages and diplomacy. The book before her was in some language she did not even know. She pushed it away with a frustrated sight before turning her attention to the former queen. "How did you know that she had performed a spell for us to switch places?"

Regina selected another book from the shelf, her long fingers tracing over the cover before she opened it. "I didn't at first. Truthfully I thought the idea of a glamor spell might be too much for Emma. She's still a bit green when it comes to those types of things."

"But you realized it how?"

"Your eyes," the woman explained. "You see, the last part of a glamour spell is the eyes. They are the hardest to change, as they are how you see the world. She did a good job, but she forgot to change the eyes. When she stood there speaking to her mother as you, I saw her green eyes looking back. It became obvious then."

Lacking an obvious answer to the woman's words, Red nodded. "Why didn't you try and stop her? You could have told Snow and that would have…"

"Snow and David are good people. They always have been. If you give them a choice, they will make the right one every time. Emma takes after them. So whatever reason she had for taking the carriage to the village must have been a good one."

"It is, I think," Red answered dully. "I hope."

***AAA***

Rain was still falling as the royal carriage pulled through the muck along the roads into the fishing village. Its wheels struggled against the thickness of it with the horses working hard to pull the passengers in their journey. Having returned herself into her natural form of a blonde princess, Emma watched through the small window as the countryside gave way to the sparse village.

She had been there years before, her father having given a speech about the anniversary of the founding of the village. The day had been hot, sun beating down on them as her father spoke of community and pride in droning tones that had bored her. She and her mother had sat on a hastily built platform and listened after watching a rather boring display of jousting and sword play among the villagers. It was the last of the events she had attended before going into hiding over her pregnancy, but she still remembered the sinking feeling that people could see her condition beyond the layers of her dress.

The colors of the town were muted under the cloudy sky and a low hanging misty fog obscured much of it, but the Princess could see the ships in the harbor. Mostly fishing and merchant vessels, they were small and sturdy structures. Amongst them with mast high was the Jolly Roger. Emma almost wept as she saw the familiar sight, her eyes keening to see if she could make out the sight of the captain anywhere. He surely wouldn't have left Elsa to her own devices, she told herself.

"We are nearly there, milady," the driver called to her needlessly. He'd been shocked when they stopped to readjust some mechanism on the carriage and found her sitting there rather than Red. She had offered no explanation of the ruse or her display of magic, simply telling him that she was eager to reach port and her friend.

Trying not to lean out of the window into the damp air, Emma restrained herself. She was certainly nervous, any fool could see that, but she felt something else inside of her. There was a sense of dread at knowing that whatever time she got with Killian would be limited. What else could it be but a fleeting moment? She supposed it was just as well that way.

***AAA***

The hem of her skirt was splattered with mud and her hair was more tightly curled in the dampness as she dodged around two men carrying a pig from the market. Elsa and Killian had both mentioned the tavern where she was to collect the young queen, but Emma was having a hard time making out the signage with the thick fog that had rolled in and added more obscurity to the landscape. Asking two people and then damning herself for being quite so excitable, she saw it and dashed toward the entrance.

Though she might have had designs on greeting Killian in a more formal or even affectionate fashion, she had to settle for waving a hand wildly and managing to topple a waitress's supply of mead onto the front of her mud stained dress instead. Of course Killian would have looked with his blue eyes at that exact moment.

Thankfully it was within Elsa's powers to ignore the clumsy display and smile at her friend as she slumped her way toward them. "I would hug you, but I have no need to smell of a brewery now," the Queen declared, leaning forward to kiss Emma's reddening cheek. "I thought Anna was the clumsy one, but you my dear…"

"I suppose I was just anxious to see you," Emma said, frowning that Killian had not even said a word as he went to ask the tavern owner for a rag or something to help mop up the mess. "You are so dear to come."

"I didn't have much choice once you sent a pirate to collect me and bring me to you," Elsa retorted, her expression dark as she accused her friend. Then she laughed with her hand fluttering over her mouth. "It's so good to see you."

"And you," Emma said genuninely. "And I am sorry about sending Killian, but I knew you wanted a safe and reliable way to get here."

"No, no, it's fine." Elsa said, smoothing her hand over her light blue and purple dress. "He's been a gentleman the whole time and quite charming. I can see why you like him."

Emma's mouth opened to a little o shape. "I don't…"

"Oh don't worry so much, Emma," Elsa said squaring off her shoulders. "He's quite taken with you and you alone. I think we should ask him to accompany us back to your castle. It isn't safe for us to be alone all that way, now is it?"

"You are acting decidedly like Anna," Emma frowned. "And we are perfectly safe. We have four guards, two drivers and a footman to protect us."

Elsa sighed, her head shaking slightly. "Don't be obtuse, Emma," she scolded. "I was merely trying to come up with a reason you would need to bring him along. I don't imagine that you are looking forward to saying hello and goodbye in the same breath."

She might have fought back against the accusation, explained that she couldn't possibly care for someone her parents would not approve of, especially after Baelfire. But Killian re-entered sheepishly handing her a cloth that was clean but old and well used. "It was all I could find," he said to her, his nose wrinkling. "I could go check the ship if you like."

"No need," Elsa said, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder. "We are nearly the same size. Emma can just borrow one of my dresses. Perhaps she should go and change on your ship though. This place appears quite crowded and I don't believe we procured a room." She pulled the cloth from his hand and placed it in Emma's. "My luggage is still aboard, isn't it?"

"Aye, I'll go check to see if perhaps we can get a room."

Elsa huffed. "We'd still need to get the dress and carrying it across the muddy road through the rain seems a waste. Emma's already drenched from both the weather and her display of grace. So I'll wait here and she can go and change."

Emma felt as though she were a spectator in her own life. As Killian and Elsa discussed the logistics of the situation, she trembled and finally felt the damp dress chilled her. A bright tide of color washed over her cheeks as she realized the state she was in and that she had yet to say a proper hello to Killian. He at last seemed to notice. "Love, you're shivering."

"That's what I've been saying," Elsa said, throwing her hands up. "Take her to the ship. She can very well pick out a dress to wear there."

Killian smiled at her, offering an arm and brushing aside her awkward comment about not wishing to soil his clothes as well. "Darling, I am a pirate. It is a rare day I don't smell of rum or ale."

"I've never noticed that about you," she said, flushing an even darker shade as he grabbed her arm and looped it through his own to lead her toward the ship. "You've always smelled rather good to me."