#modern captain duckling

[princess-and-the-swan]

MC Fic Rec: Until We Meet Again

By @searchingwardrobes | Rating: M

As a joke, Liam Jones pays a gypsy to show 15 year old Killian his true love in her magic mirror. When Killian looks in the mirror, he falls through realms and time until coming face to face with a 15 year old Emma Swan. Because I'm obsessed with younger versions of Killian meeting younger versions of Emma. Complete This is one of my favorite CS fanfictions and one that is so nostalgic for me since I credit this fic with getting me into the world of CS fanfics and I don't see this fic getting recommended enough. There's just something about these lieutenant duckling fics that I'm an absolute sucker for! This fic is a mix of an enchanted forest au and a modern au, but since it mostly takes place in the land with no magic, I classify it as the latter.

Read it on AO3

[searchingwardrobes]

Scarborough Fair: 8/?

I apologize for the long wait for this chapter! We just moved into a new house, and at first we didn't have internet. I also felt that every spare moment needed to be spent unpacking and getting the house all set up. I finally escaped to Barnes and Noble to write because I just can't do it at home right now! Anyways, I hope the contents of this chapter make it up to you. We're getting to the good stuff ;)

Is the situation Emma is in as a pregnant foster teen accurate? I really have no idea, but it's in the book Impossible that this is based on. I also have no idea if you can make a shirt like that. Again, I'm going by the book Impossible. I'm not following it exactly, but those two plot points were kind of important, so I left them in. Anyways, things are going to keep getting steamier from here on out, though our lovers are far from out of danger. Plus, we've still got Snow, David, and their kingdom out there somewhere, so hang on, folks! It's gonna be a romantic yet bumpy ride.

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Emma Swan has had a charmed life, despite being a foster child. She has a wonderful family who loves her, and the best friends in the world. The only thing that mars her idyllic existence is her birth mother: a homeless woman who mutters nonsensical rhymes and claims to be Snow White. One fateful night, however, Emma’s world is shattered. Perhaps her mother’s rhymes aren’t nonsense after all.

Rated: M for date rape, dubious consent, teen pregnancy, and sexy times (the good kind!)

Words: Over 3k in this chapter

Chapter One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six

Also on Ao3

Tagging:  (let me know if you wish to be removed or added):  @snowbellewells @teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @xhookswenchx-reads-blog @thisonesatellite @welllpthisishappening @spartanguard @ohmakemeahercules @tiganasummertree @sparlecorn93 @sals86 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @zaharadessert @huntressandlioness1 @jamif @undercaffinatednightmare @onceratheart18 @sparlecorn93 @sals86 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @zaharadessert @huntressandlioness1 @jonesfandomfanatic​ @hollyethecurious​

Chapter Eight:

The entire family jumped right in to help Emma solve the riddle that had defeated her mother. Liam dove back into every bit of research he had accumulated about the song Scarborough Fair. He and Ingrid met with the art professor he had mentioned who had done her dissertation on textiles. Elsa talked to the scientists on board ship and zoomed with the family every single day. Even Anna found her niche, taking Emma to the library and helping her check out every book available about pregnancy and childbirth. 

And Killian? He was the rock she could lean on. The one who made her smile or laugh just when things got too heavy. He also ran whatever errands he needed to: taking Emma to her first prenatal appointment, shopping for a long list of different types of fabrics at the craft store to make this impossible shirt, and going for a late night ice cream run when Emma’s cravings started. In some ways, nothing changed.

Yet his declaration of love still hung in the air. He hadn’t brought it up again, hadn’t treated her any differently, hadn’t asked her on a date or tried to get physical. He was giving her space to decide what she wanted, and it honestly was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. 

At the same time, Emma was confused. She had always loved Killian, of course. But was it romantic love? She could even admit she had been physically attracted to him at times, but did that mean she was in love with him? Did she even want something like that right now, when she was processing having a kid of all things and still healing from a violent rape? Did Killian fully understand what he would be getting himself into? Did she want to burden him with all her crap? 

She was just completely and utterly confused. 

Then, as if she didn’t have enough to worry about, Ingrid came home one day from work visibly shaken. The entire family stilled in the process of getting dinner on the table when they saw her standing in the kitchen, her face ashen. 

“What is it?” Liam asked, his voice filled with dread.

“Emma,” she said, her voice choking on her foster daughter’s name, “Liam and I need to talk to you. Immediately.”

Killian found Emma later, sobbing in her bed. When she poured it all out to him, he was livid. 

“This is absolute shit! I can’t believe they would do that!”

“They would, and they can,” Emma explained as she hugged her pillow to her torso. “Because I’m still technically in foster care, my baby automatically is, too.”

“They can’t just take it away from you!”

Emma shrugged. “Ingrid and Liam are no longer licensed to take in infants. I either have to find somewhere else to live, or my baby will be put in a different foster home.”

“Can’t they just get licensed?”

Emma shook her head. “It’s a year-long process of paperwork and visitations from social workers. I’m due in five months! Killian, what am I going to do? Where am I going to go?”

She began to sob again, and when Killian eased into the bed next to her and put his arms around her, he could feel the small swell at her abdomen where her baby was growing. He felt a strong desire to protect them both. 

“We won’t let them take you or the baby away from us. We’re a family.”

“That’s what your brother said. Exactly.”

Killian chuckled. “Of course he did.”

“But Killian,” she choked out, “what happens if I don’t solve the riddle? I was comforted at least knowing my baby would be safe and raised by Ingrid and Liam, but now . . .”

She sobbed again against his chest, and he held her tight. “I won’t let that happen,” he vowed. “You aren’t going to go mad, Emma, you won’t. We’ll solve this. All of it. Together.”

*************************************************************************

The only time Emma’s family ever used the formal dining room was on Thanksgiving. Someone always had to actually dust the table and air out the room, but Ingrid always insisted they “do Thanksgiving right,” even down to the old chipped china plates with the maple leaf border. 

So it felt odd to be in here now with the warm summer sun spilling through the window and shining on the ancient area rug. Assorted fabrics littered the table and a sewing mannequin stood in the corner, the headless and limbless torso sending an ominous shiver down Emma’s spine. 

“So this one is probably our best bet,” Ingrid explained. 

She cradled the bundle of scratchy, thick fabric and held it out to Emma who reached out and ran her hand over the coarse woolen felt. 

“That feels like it would make the most uncomfortable shirt in the history of the world.”

Ingrid shrugged. “Does it really matter? You wet this fabric, mold it to that torso over there, and according to Dr. Freemont, when it dries, it will hold together.”

Emma took the fabric and nodded. “So then we have it. A shirt made without needle or seam.”

“Who’s gonna wear it, though?”

Ingrid and Emma whirled around at the sound of Killian’s voice. Emma’s mouth went dry immediately. He stood there, his hair wet with sweat, and his chest bare. Emma couldn’t stop staring at it. She used to think chest hair was gross. She was wrong. Killian’s was thick and dark, and it set her pulse pounding. Realizing just how long she’d been ogling him, she dragged her gaze up to his face. He gave her a knowing grin as he lifted a carton of milk to his mouth and took a swig. 

“Where the hell is your shirt?” Emma snapped.

“Where the hell is your glass,” Ingrid added drily. “You’re not the only one who might like some milk, you know.”

“I just got home from work, and I’m hot,” Killian responded, as if that explained everything.

Emma tried really, really hard not to think of the other connotation of the word hot, but she was failing. Killian hadn’t brought up his declaration since that fateful dinner last week, and Emma was still trying to process it. Yet ever since, she was hyper aware of Killian’s presence. 

His lack of a shirt didn’t help, either. 

“Pour that milk in a glass, Killian, I’m not kidding,” Ingrid said in her rarely used mom voice. 

“Sure,” Killian said, sauntering back towards the kitchen. He gave Emma one more backwards glance with a delighted smirk on his face. Emma’s face heated several degrees. 

“I think I know what he means, though,” Ingrid sighed.

“What?” Emma asked, her head still a little fuzzy.

“Is it really a shirt unless someone actually wears it?” 

Emma sighed in exasperation. “So have someone wear it.”

“I’ll do it.”

They whirled back around to find Killian standing in the doorway again. He had a glass of milk in one hand and a stack of Oreos in the other. He still hadn’t donned a shirt. Emma found herself staring again, admiring the way a summer working in construction had toned his muscles. She dropped the fabric she’d been clutching in her hands and swore under her breath as it rolled across the floor. Killian smirked at her, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to slap it off his face or kiss him senseless. 

“Well,” Ingrid said, seemingly oblivious to the sexual tension in the room, “if Killian’s going to wear it, then that makes things a little more complicated.”

“Why?” Emma and Killian asked simultaneously. He had stepped further into the room, and his close proximity almost made Emma lose hold of the fabric she’d just stooped to pick up. 

“Well, if we mold the shirt to that torso over there, and it dries, I don’t think it will fit him.”

“So measure me,” Killian said, taking a bite of a cookie. His back was to Emma now as he addressed Ingrid, and it was just as distracting as the front of him. He had freckles across his shoulders, and a few along the small of his back. 

“That won’t work.” Ingrid shook her head. “The fabric doesn’t work that way. Not if we’re trying to make it without needle or seam. We’ll have to mold it to your body.”

Emma gave a little squeak at Ingrid’s words and nearly dropped the fabric all over again. To Killian’s credit, he didn’t acknowledge her reaction.

“What would that entail?” he asked casually, taking a sip of his milk. 

“I’m not sure,” Ingrid mused, tapping her finger on her chin. 

Silence fell for a moment, the only sounds from Killian snacking on his milk and cookies. Then Ingrid suddenly clapped her hands together. 

“I’ve got it! Duct tape!”

Killian’s eyes widened. “If you wrap me in duct tape, you’ll never get it off. Not without taking my skin with it.”

“You could wear a shirt,” Emma said. 

“You made that clear already,” Killian smirked at her. “I told you, I’m hot.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “I mean for the duct tape. You wear a white undershirt, I wrap it in tape, then I can put the shirt, molded to your torso, on the mannequin. Then I make the shirt.”

“You’d need to be wearing the shirt when she tapes it,” Ingrid clarified. 

“I figured that,” Killian nodded.

Emma’s throat went suddenly dry. She’d have to put her hands on his body. She’d have to be in extremely close proximity to him. She was equal parts giddy at the thought and terrified. She was light-headed just thinking about it. 

“Perfect,” Killian announced with a grin. “When do we start?”

Emma wanted to ask Ingrid if she would do it for her, but she couldn’t risk that. The riddle implied that Emma had to make the shirt herself. She steeled herself and turned to Killian. 

“Shower so you don’t stink, and then we’ll get to work.”

“As you wish,” he told her with a mock bow before he turned from the room.

Ingrid, still oblivious to the fact that Emma was practically swooning and trembling simultaneously, turned away from the dining room table and grabbed her purse from a nearby chair. 

“Since you’ve got this under control, I’ll head to the supermarket. Anything you need?”

Slightly dazed, Emma managed to shake her head “no.”

“Great, I’ll see you kids later.”

In the kitchen, Killian rinsed his dirty glass and put it in the dishwasher. He smiled to himself as he headed up the stairs. He hadn’t pressed Emma in any way since his declaration. Whether she shared his feelings or not, he’d told himself, he would still be there for her. Yet the way she’d reacted to him just now gave him hope. Maybe he would win her heart after all. 

*******************************************************************************************

“Sit right here,” Emma instructed, pointing to the dinner room chair directly in front of her. Killian obeyed, and when he looked up at her, his eyes didn’t hold teasing as she’d expected. They were tender and vulnerable. Emma swallowed nervously.

“Don’t be nervous,” he told her.

“I’m not,” she scoffed.

“You’re holding that roll of tape so hard, your knuckles are turning white.”

Emma scowled at him and pulled a long strip of tape from the roll. He blanched, and she laughed.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” she told him. 

He swallowed, and she followed the motion of his adam’s apple. She licked her lips as she drew closer, touching his arm gently as she raised it.

 “I’ll start with the sleeves,” she explained unnecessarily. 

She had to slip her fingers beneath the fabric to make sure she didn’t accidentally tape his skin. She thought she heard an intake of breath from his throat as her fingers skimmed his bicep, but maybe she’d imagined it. She wound the tape around and around the sleeve of his shirt, but when she began to wrap it around his shoulder blade, she had to step closer to him. He spread his legs to allow it, and she leaned over him, her breasts pressing against his collarbone. The sharpness of breath this time was impossible to ignore. She paused and locked eyes with him - he face was so close to hers . . . 

“Did I hurt you?”

He pressed his lips together and shook his head, so she continued. Was his breathing becoming shallow, or was that her? Was that his heart thumping so fast, or her own? When she wrapped the tape around his chest, she could feel a “thump, thump” beneath her palm. 

“Um, Emma, give me a second.”

Killian grabbed a throw pillow from the wingback chair in the corner of the dining room then resumed his seat. He clutched the pillow in his lap, and his face flamed all the way to the tips of his ears. 

“Oh,” Emma breathed softly. 

Killian swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Emma said, her own cheeks warm. 

“I just don’t want to freak you out . . . or scare you or anything. You know, because . . . because of him.”

Emma shook her head, tendrils of hair brushing her cheeks where they fell from the messy bun on the top of her head. She bit her lip as she got lost in his eyes; darker than usual and stormy. She stepped close again, between his legs, and she almost laughed when he clutched the pillow tighter. 

  “Emma,” he groaned, his eyes falling shut. 

“I’m glad,” she said, her own voice deep and trembling, “that I have that effect on you.”

“You do?” 

He opened his eyes, and she nodded. Her hands shook as she lifted them and rested them upon his temples. She threaded her fingers through his hair. It was softer than she had imagined. He tipped his head back and watched her intently. She thought of him the other night, stating so matter-of-factly that he loved her. He had said it as something unshakable and infallible. Something as predictable and steady as the seasons. Then they had gone on as they always had, with no demands that she respond to his declaration in any way. 

“And you could never scare me, Killian,” she clarified. 

Then, suddenly, she was kissing him. She was kissing Killian in the middle of the dining room. His torso was half wrapped in duct tape, he was helping her make this crazy, ridiculous, magical shirt . . . 

And she was kissing him. He was kissing her back. He was kissing her back after declaring his love for her at the kitchen table. He was kissing her thoroughly, his tongue exploring her mouth, even though she hadn’t said it back.  Or maybe it didn’t matter, she wasn’t sure. After all, this was only the second boy she’d ever kissed. But no, she wasn’t going to think about that or him. Not when Killian was kissing her within an inch of her life.

The pillow he was clutching fell to the floor when he wrapped his arms around her, and Emma could feel his arousal through his jeans and pressing into her. For a split second, fear tried to grab hold of her, but it was banished quickly. He wouldn’t just take her; he wasn’t like that. 

Killian pulled away, and Emma was shocked to hear a whimper slip past her lips, especially when he stood up from the chair and took a step back. Why was he pulling away, when they - oh.

He was sinking down on one knee, and she suddenly wondered if she were dreaming. It all felt so surreal, and he was still half wrapped in duct tape. Maybe Snow had whacked her in the head with one of those bottles after all, and all this time she’d been in a coma at the hospital. It would explain so much, honestly. 

“Emma,” he said, (and were those tears gathering in his eyes?), “I know this is a lot to ask of you, since you haven’t even told me yet how you feel about me. And this is something I think I always knew I would do eventually, just not now.” 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them and continuing. His words reverberated in her soul, and she knew he was right, they were always going to arrive here, somehow. She knew it the same way she knew her own reflection. 

“But with everything going on, I don’t want to wait. I know you face an uncertain future, Emma, but I always want to be by your side. So, will you marry me?” He didn’t even pause for her answer, but plunged ahead. “It makes so much sense, if you think about it. I mean, we’re going to break this curse, Emma, we will. We won’t give up, ever. But, I know you worry, and if I’m your husband, you won’t have to. You’ll know I’ll be there for the baby. It will be mine, legally. It won’t end up in foster care. Not that anything’s going to happen to you, I swear to you it won’t, but if I can ease your burden . . .”

He trailed off, and Emma sank to her knees right along with him, reaching out to cup his face in her hands. 

“And if I do go insane -”

“You won’t!”

“But if we don’t break the curse . . .”

“I’ll take care of you,” he said solemnly, “always and forever.”

It would be selfish of her, she knew that it would, to ask that of him. Nevertheless, his vow felt like the sun breaking through the darkest of clouds, and she knew she couldn’t refuse his gift. Her hands slipped down his shoulders, then his arms, and she clasped his hands tightly in hers. 

“I love you.”

It wasn’t, she discovered, difficult to say. It was just so true, so undeniable, like how she knew the sun would come up each morning. His smile was bright and blinding, and she smiled too at the sight of his dimples. They had been so rare lately. 

“Does that mean yes?” he asked her teasingly. 

A tear slipped down her face, and she found she couldn’t speak. She nodded, and he understood. Everyone would say they were crazy, of course. He was nineteen, and she was seventeen. It was absolutely insane. Ingrid and Liam wouldn’t like it, she was sure, but she also knew they wouldn’t stop them.

 He dried her tears with his thumb, then traced her lips before kissing her tenderly. The kiss continued as they clung to one another in blissful, shining faith and hope. In that moment, she believed him: They would break the curse. 

Emma and Killian were so wrapped up in one another, they didn’t notice the slight shaking of the house or the rainbow colored light that swept through the room. 

**************************************************

It wasn’t the first time Robert Gold had entered the Swan/Jones home when the family was gone. He had explored every nook and cranny, flipped through photographs, smelled their clothes. He knew this family; every weakness to be exploited had been sifted and examined. 

Yet the house had never protested like it did today, and when he turned towards the dining room, he could clearly see why. 

It was a shirt. Hideous, smelly, and dripping wet, but a shirt nonetheless. When it dried, it could even be worn. 

“Well, well, well,” he muttered, reaching out a hand towards it. 

Almost immediately, he recoiled, the shirt burning him before he’d even grazed it. Magic radiated from it. The glamor spell he always wore faded, and his hands turned a scaly green, nails yellowed and gnarled at each finger tip. It wasn’t just the shirt, he realized. The entire dining room reeked with the magic, and he was in pain from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. 

“Of course you’re in pain, Dark One.”

He writhed on the ground and cried out as a much younger face pulled away from his ancient, twisted one. 

“Stop fighting me!”

“I’m doing all this for you, son!”

“Are you, Papa?”

“I got her for you, didn’t I?”

“But I can’t keep her!”

The Dark One could no longer hold onto the shared body, and the younger man stood to his feet, opened the front door, and walked out onto the sidewalk. Neal Cassidy was the name he preferred in this realm, a name that Rumplestiltskin hated. Baelfire was his name: a strong, powerful name.

“Oh Papa,” Baelfire - Neal - whispered, “settle down and cooperate.”

“You know I’ll take over again eventually.”

Neal didn’t argue. Instead he clenched his jaw and gritted his next words through his teeth. 

“This won’t work forever. You’re losing, and you know it.”

“They only finished the first task. They’ll never complete the rest. Not in time, anyway.”

“But that magic - you know exactly what that was.”

Ah yes, he did. True love. He wasn’t worried. The Dark One had defeated true love before, and he would do it again.

[andaniellight]

i love you selectively mute roach. i love you black/dark colored eyes ghost. i love you price’s smooth and supportive fatherly traits and how the entire task force 141 just instinctively picks them all up like their lives depend so badly on them. i love you soap’s vague mom friend tendencies that he’d deny over and over again. i love you gaz and soap’s unironic healthy competition of who can get their captain’s attention the most. i love you ghost’s painfully awkward moments of trying to accept help from others instead of rejecting them outright. i love you laswell’s exasperation when price’s subordinates whine “but muuum” joke whenever she’s allowing them to go on a brief vacation. i love you roach’s ability to outrun all of his superiors because he’s been training harder than before soap got injured just to save him. i love you ghost mimicking soap’s dramatic flairs just to either piss him off or shut him the hell up. i love you offended soap when roach signs to him the truest truth ever been expressed as an angry subordinate of his (that he’s so fond of the most, though he’s still learning to admit it out loud). i love you gaz’s ability to imitate perfectly price’s patented disappointed glare. i love you soap noticing ghost’s accidentally picked up habit of praising others the way price would, which ghost only started as a joke. i love you price getting decorated harmlessly as a joke if he falls asleep out in the open by all of his boys.

[beachreg]

⊹₊⟡⋆ beachreg's show recs!!

Here's a list of shows/cartoons I watch while regressed to various ages!! Most of these are from the 90s or so since I'm not a fan of a lot of newer stuff!!

I've included their age ratings, years on air and a quick summary I found for each!! I hope you enjoy and maybe find something new to watch!! :D

⟡ = cartoons & ☆ = other shows!!

☆ Reading Rainbow (1999) — Levar Burton introduces young viewers to illustrated readings of children's literature and explores their related subjects.

⟡ Captain Planet and The Planeteers (TV-Y7, 1990-96) — A quintet of teenagers work together to encourage environmentally responsible behavior and can summon a superhero to deal with ecological disasters.

☆ The Crocodile Hunter (TV-G, 1996-2004) — Steve and wife Terri educate and entertain on the subject of Australia's all too often dangerous wildlife.

⟡ Gargoyles (TV-Y7, 1994-97) — A clan of heroic night creatures pledge to protect modern New York City as they did in Scotland one thousand years earlier.

☆ Between the Lions (TV-Y, 1999-2011) — Live action and animation blend together in this educational fantasy about a family of lions running a library filled with adventurous and musical books.

⟡ Pocoyo (TV-Y, 2005-Present) — Pocoyo, the curious toddler dressed all in blue, joins Pato the yellow duck, Elly the pink elephant, Loula the dog, Sleepy Bird and many others in learning new things and having fun.

⟡ Tiny Toons Adventures (TV-G, 1990-95) — The wacky adventures of the new young hip generation of Warner Brothers Looney Tunes characters, most of them descendants of the original classic toon cast.

☆ Mister Rogers' Neighborhood (TV-Y, 1968-2001) — Fred Rogers explores various topics for young viewers through presentations and music, both in his world and in the Neighborhood of Make-Believe.

☆ Bill Nye the Science Guy (TV-Y, 1993-98) —Scientist/comedian Bill Nye explores various aspects of science for young viewers.

⟡ Wonder Pets! (TV-Y, 2006-16) — A turtle, a guinea pig and duckling save the day by using teamwork.

⟡ Dinosaur Train (TV-Y, 2009-23) — Friendly dinosaurs climb aboard a train to visit different times throughout the prehistoric age, learning about dinosaurs and having fun adventures.

☆ The Joy of Painting (TV-G, 1983-2024) — In this half-hour program, artist Bob Ross paints a beautiful oil painting on canvas.

⟡ VeggieTales (TV-Y, 1993-2015) — Bob the Tomato, Larry The Cucumber, and their friends teach Christian and Bible-based lessons in a fun way.

⟡ The Magic School Bus (TV-Y, 1994-97) — An eccentric teacher takes her class on wondrous educational field trips with the help of a magic school bus.

⟡ The Berenstain Bears (TV-Y, 1985-2004) — Inspired by the book series written by Stan and Jan Berenstain, join the Berenstain Bears family as they figure out life together. With friendly neighbors and close friends, the journey is never boring.

⟡ Courage the Cowardly Dog (TV-Y7, 1999-2002) — The offbeat adventures of Courage, a cowardly dog who must overcome his own fears to heroically defend his unknowing farmer owners from all kinds of dangers, paranormal events and menaces that appear around their land.

☆ The Wiggles (TV-Y, 1993-2022) — Learn how to sing and dance with Australia's fab four of fun, The Wiggles. Joined by their friends, Captain Feathersword, Dorothy the Dinosaur, Henry the Octopus, and Wags the Dog, the group go on all sorts of adventures.

⟡ Little Bear (TV-Y, 1995-2003) — A grizzly cub has many misadventures with his friends.

☆ Are You Afraid of The Dark? (TV-14, 1990-2000) — A group of teenagers meet in the woods and tell scary stories.

divider credits: @/strangergraphics!!

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

The way you write Deuce is just, *chef's kiss* i love it. it absolutely lives in my head rent-free.

So much so that i saw this tiktok of a pigeon sprinting with a leaf to gently put it on top of his mate sitting in her nest, and my first thought was, 'that's them. That's Deuce/MC. 💕💕'

Here's the video but i understand if you're hesistant to click on random links. I do hope you have a nice day btw ^ ^)

(https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8DbBeDw/)

AAAHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!

No but seriously Deuce 'his gaze softened' Spade is so loving and deserves so much love like I literally can't even explain.

First of all, that video is everything and it’s so Deuce coded I can’t even. Another animal couple I see would be this:

But, don't get me wrong, I would just like to go on the record and say that I've been watching a lot of dog videos and Deuce is 100% a dog: he's sweet, loyal, supportive, loving, protective - the complete package (though his eyes are much cuter). Just saying that he (and Jack) would be at the top of Crewel's list for approved boyfriends.

I mean as deranged as I am for him, I swear I can quit any time (I say as I stuff my shaking hands into my pockets and send multiple pictures of him flying out of my pocket)

He’s a perfect gentleman despite not being raised as one - and no I don’t mean in the literal sense, actual queen Mama Spade definitely raised her son to be chivalrous and kind and respectful to everyone. I mean he wasn’t raised to be a quintessential refined nobleman like Riddle or Malleus or Vil. He’s the only son of a single mother and as far as we know only his maternal grandmother is around (we don’t know if his father left or is dead but I subscribe to the headcanon that he was a jerk that left when Deuce’s mum was pregnant) so he’s never had an older male relative to look up to. Yet he still has all the traits that you’d see in Austen male leads - he's serious and straightforward, sort of soft spoken, he'll restrain his emotions, he's gentle (at most times), he canonically loves sappy romances, he’s got a strong moral compass and he has this sort of soft touch-starved vibe that I can't really explain.

But he's this sweet, considerate wholesome guy who gives it his all in everything despite his background and personality of an adrenaline-fuelled teenage boy. And he's very realistically (and very endearingly) a teenage boy: he's a troublemaker, he's rough around the edges, he makes mistakes even when his heart is in the right place, there are times where he can be slow on the uptake, he's aggressive, he thinks more with his fists and instincts and feelings than with his head, he's emotional and will lash out if he sees injustice, he's not afraid to use dirty tactics, he was literally in a gang, he's impulsive and reckless and literally itching for a fight. But he’s still as much of a man of honour as Mr Darcy or Captain Wentworth. And e's so loving and he's so sincere and he tries so hard I just-

(I want to kiss him on the mouth)

I just think it's really sweet that the same guy who could violently beat up like five guys bigger than him without a thought would instantly turn into a blushing puddle if you so much as held his hand and follow you around with a wide eyed awestruck look like a lost puppy or baby duckling.

I love to say that the reader is his salvation, his angel, his light and it comes from his inner shame at his past. Yes, he's bettering himself to atone for all the hurt his mother went through but he also really wants to prove to be someone worthy of being at your side. You're his apricity and he loves you more than anything.

He’s very sword and shield coded (though, I’d say he’s less of a shield and more of a sword - Jack seems to fit the shield motif more to me). He's very honour bound and duty driven and he gives me the vibes of those loyal knights you get in period stories.

And I guess that's what appeals to me. Bad boys are literally my least favourite trope in modern fiction and I get irked at practically every broody, angsty 'I hate the world' male love interest I come across (usually because the good boy second ml is so much better but my sister says that red flags are much more interesting than boring green flags so...). But Deuce, my man, my deuce box. He's a (former) bad boy that ticks all of the green flag boxes. He's not a bad boy with a hidden soft side, he's a soft boy with a (not-so-hidden) bad side.

He's not rude and snarky, he's kind and respectful. He doesn't have a problem with authority or hate his parents, one of his main character traits is his healthy love for his mother and he has a high opinion of his upperclassmen and the adults around him and he takes his studies seriously even when he's not good at them. He doesn't hide behind an arrogant facade, he's genuine and sincere to everyone he meets. Yes, he has an innate attraction for violence but instead of acting on it, he spends his time sating his love for adrenaline by speeding along on his magical wheel and joining the most athletic club in the school. He wouldn't tease you for your interests, you could spend hours babbling about your rock collection and he'd be completely rapt.

He's like the perfect dichotomy of the bad boy trope and the wholesome cinnamon roll good boy trope. Like one second he and you are engaged in the 'no you're cuter' or 'no you hang up' cycle on the phone and the next second your arms are wrapped around his torso and your wearing his leather jacket as he does the akira slide on his magical wheel.

Anyway I could go on for ages but instead have Deuce Vibes tumblr text post:

(Censored by moi)

P.S. I’ve been watching a lot of Ace edits and like 😳🥰 that boy ❤️ People make so many jokes about Malleus not getting invited to the meeting where the Disney executives explain twst is not an otome game but like Ace got the invitation and glanced at it for 0.345 seconds before ripping it into shreds, tossing the pieces into a blender, throwing the blender into a fire and then nuking the fireplace.

[luvrsux]

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆

❝ 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 ❞

other chapters

➠┊word count: 4.1k

➠┊characters: trafalgar law, portgas d. ace, monkey d. luffy, roronoa zoro, vinsmoke sanji, franky, usopp, nami, sabo, perona, mihawk {mentioned}, garp {mentioned}

➠┊cw: fighting, mention of blood, minor swearing

➠┊modern au !!

{colors for dialogue will change//switch//fluctuate as more characters are introduced !!}

୨⎯🖤⎯୧

It was a grand population at Grand Ocean High. It was just an ordinary school but it was fairly popular. It wasn’t a run down school with slop to feed the zombies they called students, but it wasn’t prestigious where they treated them like royals. Somewhere in the middle is where it laid.

You, a Junior, couldn’t wait to just graduate already. You pulled into the parking lot with your own car, that was proudly given to your by your single mother. It wasn’t anything expensive, quite run down considering it was a hand-me-down, but it did its job. With a sigh, your stared at the steering wheel, wallowing in the stress that dwelled in your head from the mere presence of the school building.

The year had only just started a few months ago, thus the crisp rigid cold from winter crept along day by day. Your car blasted the heating, you couldn’t stand the cold. The feeling of getting goosebumps and your fingers being stiff made you uncomfortable, hence why you always wore fuzzy attire.

A knock echoed on your glass window beside you. The shockwave startled your soul due to the deep trance of your own self pity. Your panicked eyes soon dissolved once you realized who called for you. A shaggy, long haired guy that grossly wore a baggy, orange tank in the 50 degree weather. You hated that about him.

All you could focus on him was his hearty laugh once he realized he startled you. You resented on lowering the window, but obliged with a menacing glare.

“Morning”

You grumbled. The muffled laughs grew louder once the window was buried in your car. You watched him relax, the same still expression on your face.

“You looked like a moron!” He teased. You just stood silent, feeling a vein poke out your forehead.

“You look like a moron with that stupid tank top in freezing weather” You snarled. It caused the cowboy looking guy to observe his attire.

“It’s not that cold, is it?” He asked, dumbfounded.

You had enough of Ace’s tomfoolery and just snatched your backpack that laid next to you. The door swung straight into Ace’s body, causing him to grunt in slight pain. Ace tanked it, though, he was an athlete after all.

“Hey, hey watch it!” Ace shook a fist. You just grinned and kicked the door shut. As you strut your body forward to the school entrance, you heard Ace follow on your tail.

You and Ace were rather close since freshman year. See, you weren’t from Grand Ocean, so you were a complete newbie. In the school, everyone knew each other while simultaneously keeping into their own groups, like wolves in a pack. Ace was an overall social butterfly, and made you feel welcome. Ever since then Ace saw you as a little sibling.

Unlike you, though, Ace was a fairly popular student. Everyone adored him and his athletic ability. He was captain of the basket ball team, practically homing in the schools gym. The contrast between the two teenagers was significantly huge, but they managed. You would oftentimes help Ace with academics when Ace would typically slack off. Ace was a senior, though, so after this year you wouldn’t have his presence. It was a blessing but also a curse.

Ace talked your ear off as you two entered the school premises. In the morning, you were like a hermit crab, you resented everyone. ‘Why would anyone be so cheerful this early?’ You’d ponder, looking up at Ace that was lost in his own conversation.

You fumbled your fingers on your designated locker, Ace still by your side as usual. Ace was like a mother duck with ducklings, though. Soon enough, a shaggier boy ran toward the two along with a more well kept blonde trying to catch him. Ace grew a pearly smile as he made eye contact with his brothers. You, on the other hand, felt your eyes twitch. It was too early…

“Ace! Ace!” The smaller boy jumped.

“Luffy, relax! What’d you even have for breakfast this morning…” The blonde looked embarrassed, but still had a smile on his face.

“Morning, Sabo” You waved at Sabo with a frail hand and a small smile. Sabo was the only brother that you could tolerate most of the time. Sabo gleamed at you.

“Mornin’ (F/N)!”

Sabo had a hand raised to greet his friend. They were all a small group, but then again, both Luffy and Ace had more than one group. Arguably, they were the most popular in GOH.

Sabo was sort of tucked in both of their shadows, which slightly disappointed him. Everyone liked Sabo only for the sole purpose that he was related to the two golden boys. You were aware with Sabo’s reputation and tried to make him feel validated as much as possible.

“Ace! I got morning detention!” Luffy cheered. Despite the literal punishment given to him, Luffy was still cheerful and laid back as ever. He never took anything seriously.

“You runt!” Ace chuckled, ruffling Luffy’s messy hair. It seemed like Luffy never did his hair in the morning.

“I tried to stop him but…” Sabo sighed in defeat only to receive another ruffle of the hair by Ace’s rough palm.

“Don’t worry, you’re fine” He smiled. Ace then wrapped his toned arm around you, startling you slightly.

“I’m going to send this one to their class and I’ll see you guys later!” Ace said proudly. Sabo and Luffy watched as you sighed in defeat with a slightly agitated expression.

Sabo waved at you with a soft smile while he practically dragged Luffy away to avoid anymore ruckus and trouble. Ace jerked his body around to pace towards your first period. He knew your schedule from the back of his hand.

“People are going to think we’re dating…” You said with disgust in your voice. You eyed every student that eyed the two of you back. Some people have actually questioned you if you two were a thing. It was becoming a chore to debunk it every time.

“Who cares! I tell everyone we’re basically siblings” Ace replied. He snaked his arm off of you and placed them behind his head. You watched him effortlessly wave and greet random students that you’ve never seen. His popularity was too much for you.

You felt your back being pushed into your designated classroom. You saw a few students already in there chatting with their friends. Luckily, you had another friend share your class.

“I’ll see you in gym, Ace” You’d sigh. Ace drummed you shoulder in response and hooked into a group of guys that you were slightly fond of. It was his basketball group.

The rowdy boys were irrelevant to you, only knowing them from your friend. You jerked your body into the classroom and sat next to the pink haired, gothic looking girl.

She perked her head at you with a smile, you reciprocating it back.

“Morning, (F/N)!” Perona smiled. You eyed her attire and was taken back by how much effort she’d put into it every day.

“Morning, Perona” You sat at your assigned desk that was right next to the gothic girl. You slung your backpack behind your chair.

“I saw you were with Zoro the other day. How’d that go?” You asked as you rested your cheek on your palm.

“It was rather nice, we bumped into each other while he was struggling to find his way back home” Perona explained. You snickered at Zoro’s awful sense of direction, which was a widely known thing throughout the school.

“Then Mihawk wanted to be a party pooper…” Perona grumbled. Perona was closely related to Mihawk. He was basically her father.

“Right, sounds pretty lame of him” You replied. Perona shrugged and fondled with her bright, pink locks.

“I had fun with Zoro anyway, he’s rather cute” She winked. All you could do was roll your eyes with a smirk.

More students began to flood in and fill in the isolated seats. The room went silent as the teacher began to talk on and on about whatever lesson involved Physics.

You scribbled necessary notes on your notebook. You were a little scholar, but you didn’t like it. You despised school and the tsunami level stress it accompanied with it. The room was blessed by the loud school bell saying it was time to transition.

Perona rose her body and sighed in relief.

“(F/N), do you want to go to a bakery someday after school? A new one just opened and I think you’ll love it!” She gleemed. You packed your notebooks away in your back pack, raising your body from the seat.

“Uh, sure” You shrugged. “Hopefully I’m not backed up on homework”

You received an eye roll from Perona.

“You’re never backed up…” Perona giggled, walking away from you.

You sighed and followed behind her to exit the now empty classroom. You peered over your shoulders to expect to see a tall, orange jock but nothing. You exhaled in relief.

“Ace must be caught up doing whatever…” You mumbled.

You felt your shoulder crash into a body, fumbling your balance but not toppling over. Sure the traffic was pretty heavy but not that heavy to completely shove someone. You glared at the culprit only to receive one back. It was taller, raven haired boy. The interaction was so quick that you barely caught a glimpse of him besides his agitated expression.

“Watch it” He snarled.

His remark made you growl in her chest. You didn’t hesitate to jerk her body the other way to keep it moving. ‘What an asshole…’ You thought.

Your morning had only just started and it was nuisance upon nuisance non stop. Annoying teachers, classmates and people walking too slow in the hallways. Soon enough, your more cheerful personality began to seep through your grouchy, morning demeanor. It was basically whiplash.

The afternoon crept which meant lunchtime was starting to begin. You stood by your locker to grab your home-prepped lunch your mother lovingly packed. Kumi usually sat with the brothers for lunch, but considering Ace and Luffy both have different groups besides their own, you just sat with Sabo instead most of the time.

“(F/N)! (F/N)!”

A voice called behind. You snapped your head to the person only to see a red shirt boy sprinting straight toward you. To your surprise, the blonde wasn’t there.

“Luffy?”

“Ace is about to get into a fight in the cafeteria!” Luffy panicked, which was unusual because Luffy is always down for a fight. You’d think he’d jump in by now considering it was his brother.

Your eyes widened at the news. Ace was so well liked, no one would dare to pick a fight with such a charismatic guy. You opened your mouth to at least try to muster up a sentence, but Luffy was impatient.

With a tight grab on your wrist, you were yanked towards the cafeteria with maximum speed. You hadn’t realized how fast Luffy was until now…

“Luffy! Wait a sec-!”

Luffy bursted through the doors that revealed a crowd circling around. You could faintly see a bright, orange cowboy hat through the crowd of nosy people. Luffy pulled you to the front of the crowd.

Ace stood in front of a random student proudly. His expression was serious. It was foreign for you to see such a fiery expression on his face. The random student watched him with petrified eyes.

The other guy, which seemingly started the fight from the beginning, had red hair and a punk-like aesthetic. He was known as Eustass Kid, who was also fairly popular. Kid was somewhat a hotheaded guy who thinks everyone is out for his throat. You were barely surprised.

“Leave the guy alone, Kid” Ace said. His tone seemed annoyed, as if this wasn’t the first time he stated this.

Kid stepped forward to Ace intimidatingly, but Ace didn’t flinch. He didn’t move a single millimeter. He just glared up at the pink guy with eyes ready to punch.

“Don’t make me punch you to the ground, “Fire Fist…” “ Kid mocked. Ace didn’t say a word, just a menacing glare.

The cafeteria was silent. So silent you could hear a pin drop and it’d echo. Some students whispered amongst each other, and some whipped out their cameras to record the tussle. You hesitated on doing something, it’d be embarrassing to get in the middle of this.

Luffy, on the other hand, was itching for a fight but to your surprise he stayed in the sidelines. You assumed that he received a scolding from Ace to pipe down. Luffy would only cause more trouble.

“Seriously, Ace you don’t-“

“Shut up!” Kid spat.

The kid behind Ace jolted at Kid’s hoarse voice in terror. Ace finally shoved Kid away after his sinister demeanor. The crowd gasped.

“Piss off! They didn’t do anything to you!”

Ace had his fists clenched while Kid smiled devilishly. He cracked his fingers and rose his arm only to contact his big fist into Ace’s face. He grunted, stumbling on his body from the impact.

The crowd roared in shock, Luffy just tensed up at the sight of his brother getting decked in his face. You inhaled sharply.

Ace smirked and rubbed his face. He tanked it like a pro, only a red mark on his cheek. Ace stretched his arms while letting out a hearty chuckle.

“Now you just gave me a reason to kick your ass”

In a blink of an eye, Ace reciprocated Kid’s kind gesture which caused an ongoing fight between the two boys. You jolted your body to try to pull Ace off of Kid but felt a lingering hand grip her arm.

“I got yelled at, what makes you think you won’t” Luffy grumbled. Your assumption was right, and you could only sigh in defeat. The crowd roared and cheered the two boys on, mostly them going for Ace. You could clearly see the levels of popularity they both carried.

“Enough!”

Finally, a teacher ran through the absurd crowd to pull off Ace and Kid from nearly killing each other. You made direct eye contact while blood was spilling out of Ace’s nose, but he has a prideful smile on his face. Meanwhile with Kid, he looked livid. He wasn’t ready to conclude the fight.

Teachers proceeded to push the students away and to get back to their regularly scheduled lunch wave, but you protested.

“Ace!”

You called out and broke through the wall of teachers. You stumbled in front of him, analyzing his injuries. It wasn’t anything serious, but that bloody nose was concerning.

“I totally won that…” Ace grunted, a smile still plastered on his face. You had the urge to slap sense into his dense brain but couldn’t due to obvious circumstances.

“Right, and you’re totally injured” You raised a brow. Ace was being apprehended by a staff member until another one pulled Kid away, who was cursing at Ace with a huge chest.

“You have to go, girl” A teacher glared. You glared back and grabbed Ace’s hand.

“Can I take my idiot friend to the nurses office first? Look at his nose!” You spat only to receive a shake of the head. They pulled you aside to see Ace get escorted away from the cafeteria.

You snapped your head to whoever was trying to escort you away from the middle of the cafeteria. The irritation from the staff was about to leach onto whoever grabbed you but you instantly calmed down when you were met with orange locks.

“Stupid teachers…” Nami grumbled under her breath.

You and Nami weren’t close, nothing compared to you and Ace, but still nice friends either way. You were slightly fond of Luffy’s small group. They’d often nickname themselves ‘The Strawhats’.

“Well he’s definitely getting suspended for some time” After Nami brought you to her table, they all adjusted in their chairs. They all had food sitting in front of them.

You sat in an empty space in between the long nosed kid and muscle, blue haired jock. Franky greeted you with a loud laugh while Usopp was much calmer.

You had felt a hand rest on the back of her chair, causing you to turn to finally see Sabo. Sabo had an amused expression while Luffy looked through the roof beside him.

“What even happened?” You finally asked. Nami rested her cheek on her palm and shrugged.

“I had just arrived when the fight sprouted”

Sabo sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Ace was trying to protect that student” He finally replied. Everyone grew silent to listen to Sabo explain.

“Apparently Kid was bothering them and Ace decided to intervene. The whole ordeal happened in a span of a few minutes though” Sabo explained. His tone seemed tired, either he was exhausted from scrambling his brothers together or because of the frequent fame overshadowing him.

“Not surprised…” You exhaled.

“He sure does know how to cause a crowd” The moss haired guy stretched his body to seemingly take a nap in the middle of the lunch wave. The blonde that sat next to him looked agitated.

“Say, why are you and Ace so close?” Nami asked you with a smile, you perked your head up at the sudden question.

“Well, he’s been there ever since I moved here. I guess I was just glued to him” You tapped your nails on the table. You watched Nami nod.

“When I see Kid, I’m gonna punch his red face!” Luffy huffed, his clenched fists on his chest. He received a small slap on his head by Sabo.

“No, you’re not… Garp already has to deal with one of you idiots, don’t make it worse” Sabo lectured. Luffy’s puffed cheeks and puffed up anger soon deflated like a sad party balloon.

“Yeah, Luffy,” Usopp folded his arms. “And you’ll probably drag us down the hole with it” He added.

Luffy tussled back and fourth with his group as to why he shouldn’t take matters into his own hands and you’d listen. You couldn’t lie, the scenery was quite amusing. Your phone buzzed, causing you to jolt.

Ace - 12:45 PM

in the nurses office lol! probably gonna get my ass scorched at home

You giggled humorously at the message and decided to pay the fire boy a visit before he’s kicked off on an early vacation. You abruptly got up and excused yourself.

“I’ll see you guys in a bit, just have to do something” You announced. You received a mixture of goodbyes and okays as you turned your body away from the group. You could faintly hear their voices bicker and chatter from behind.

The hallways were quiet, considering the school was tucked inside the cafeteria eating their hearts away. It wasn’t a long walk to the nurses office, so you were there before you knew it.

“Any visitors allowed?” You asked the secondary nurse in charge with a smile. The nurse sighed in defeat.

“Only for a short moment…” The nurse swung the door open to let you waltz inside.

The office was quite spacious, three resting rooms and their own bathroom. You’d questioned why they would have such a big nurses office.

“I assume you’re here for the boy?” The nurse asked.

After you nodded in agreement, she pointed to one of the three rooms with a blue ballpoint pen. Her face looked unamused and you immediately thought that she assumed you two were dating.

“(F/N)!” Ace said in a tired, hoarse voice. He had an ice pack on his head and a white strip along his nose. His right eye was slightly purple and his cheek was bruised. You thought this guy was beaten to a pulp.

“God, Ace…” You murmured as you approached the injured boy. He just chuckled as if nothing is happening.

“Don’t worry about me, worry about the other guy” He joked, but you just rolled your eyes and got a better look at his injuries.

“How long will you be away?” You asked with folded arms. Ace sighed.

“About a week”

“A week!?”

Ace shushed you after a hearty chuckle. You cupped your mouth in embarrassment, not realizing your pitched volume. You had received a slightly agitated look from the nurse outside.

“Yes, a week” Ace confirmed. You felt your heart sting. How were you going to feel annoyed every morning now?

“Don’t be a pest at home” You giggled.

“I’m deathly offended” Ace joked. “That’s actually my runt little brother who’s a pest” He referred to the scruffy boy he called Luffy.

“He told me you yelled at him before I arrived…” You began. You watched him scoff and roll his eyes.

“Yeah, I did”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want the kid to get in the same boat as me” Ace explained. He brought his feet up on the bed and rested his toned arms on his knees.

“It was my fight anyway, Luffy would’ve made things worse for himself” Ace continued. “Th’boy already goes through enough trouble…”

Ace looked sympathetic towards him. Deep down, he was a kind hearted brother that’d do anything to protect both of his loved ones. Despite his overbearing popularity, he kept the ones that truly mattered under his wing closely. You admired that.

“He’s pretty riled up now” You said with a grin. Ace laughed.

“Don’t doubt it!” He adjusted his ice pack. “Don’t let him do anything stupid though”

“I won’t-“

BAM!!

The nurse shrieked as a ball of pent up anger in a red shirt bursted through the doors with a childish laugh. You snapped your head out the glass window to see what catastrophe happened.

“Ace! Where are you?”

His scruffy voice echoed throughout the room. All you could hear was the nurse scolding at the boy, followed by a ‘Im sorry��� even though he was cheerfully laughing. Sabo seemed like he was chasing after the boy for hours, as he came inside breathing heavily.

“Luffy!” Sabo scolded angrily.

“You were saying?” Ace cooed up at you, your cheeks filled with embarrassment. It was embarrassing for you to even be friends with a ball of energy like Luffy.

Shortly afterwards, they both came in to talk to Ace. Sabo was pleased to see you there, keeping Ace company. Luffy cried to Ace about how he wanted to fight Kid to avenge him but Ace objected

“C’mon! I swear I’ll kick his ass!”

“I said no, moron! For once, use your brain!”

“I am! I’m using my brain by thinking about kicking Kids ass!”

“Luffy, I’m gonna kill you myself!”

Their tussle soon muffled out when you realized lunch was starting to end and their next set of classes were about to begin. You hugged Sabo goodbye, not wanting to interrupt whatever tough brotherly love Ace was giving Luffy.

Once you had exited the room, you crashed your head into a taller chest. Judging by his scent, this was a guy. Speaking of which, his scent was awfully familiar.

“Prick…” You grumbled as you pulled away to examine whoever rudely crashed into you. The raven hair. It was familiar.

“You again? Do you ever watch where you’re going?”

You could finally catch whoever this was that was progressively getting on each individual nerve on your body. He glared down at you with dark circles on his eyes.

“Can say the same for you, asshole…” You mumbled. All you could hear was the amused chuckle that came from his chest.

“Grow a few inches before trying me, sweetheart” With that, he shoved passed her and talked to the nurse. The nurses sour demeanor shifted as soon as the boy approached her. It seemed like that was her assistant, which was odd considering he was also a student.

You felt her eye twitch at his remark and was ready to be the second fight of the day but you choked back. You exhaled and just kept walking.

His rude statement echoed inside your brain. ‘How could he say it with such finesse? He said it in such a soothing tone, you’d forget he was even being a prick in the first place!’ You thought.

You stopped in your tracks for a moment.

“Did he have tattoos…?”

next →

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔

✎ ❝ omg yayy the first chapter is out!! i originally had this story presaved in my notes with my personal one piece oc and decided to bring it here for everyone!! i will proudly announce that each chapter is planned out and ready to be written! i really hope i can finish this novel because i genuinely enjoyed simply writing the summaries. i hope the color dialogue wasn’t too confusing, tumblr only has so many colors lolll. anyway remember that requests are open and i’d love to hear whatever you luvies have to offer!! stay sweet!!❞

All licensing and ownership belong to Eiichiro Oda

[nerdasaurus1200]

Modern Alt Tangled Universe: the entire gang is in college. What are their majors? Any extracurriculars?

Oooh this'll be a fun one anon! Thank you!

Rapunzel would definitely be the type to try to pick every single major and she'd get so bummed that she can't. So instead she double majors. I think she'd double major in art and either astronomy or government. If she doesn't major in astronomy, she'd definitely be part of the astronomy club. She'd also be president of the art club, the chess club, the school band, the baking club, dance team, and probably the student senate or council. She may also join a sorority too.

Eugene...because he becomes Captain at the end I'd say he majors in criminal justice. If not that then probably literature. He definitely founds and is president of the Flynn Rider book club, part of the fencing team, the scrapbooking club, and the writing club. I could also see him trying out track and field or being on the dance team as well. But only for a brief time, so instead he regularly lifts weights at the gym.

Cassandra would also major in criminal justice, but halfway through college she has her trademark mental breakdown, probably over the summer, and switches to major in history or cartography. She used to be part of the fencing team but then an accident happened that was unrelated to fencing and now she can't really use her arm that well. She also used to be in Rapunzel's sorority but got kicked out after she became disabled. She's still a part of her own cartography club, the chess club, the baking club (just like Eugene she just hangs out there because that's where her friends are), and only attends Flynn Rider book club meetings when they talk about Ramona

Lance is a culinary arts major, hands down. Probably the teacher's favorite. Everyone in the culinary department knows him. He's president of the baking club and is also a proud member of theater club. He's a big help to the main drama teacher, he basically helps them pick the school play and cast everyone, and if there's ever a need for an understudy he is ON IT. He and Rapunzel also start a karaoke club together and they meet on weekends at the Snuggly Duckling

Varian is another double major. He majors in chemistry and engineering. I feel like he got in on a bunch of merit scholarships so Quirin doesn't have to pay a dime. He is another VERY proud member of the Flynn Rider book club, part of the robotics team, the baking club, the chemistry club, and does band and art club with Rapunzel. He's also part of Cass's cartography club but he understands none of it, he just likes to see her ramble. He and Eugene also take a bunch of language classes together

Oh one little thing I forgot to add, they're all also proud members of the Saporian recognition club and the lgbt pride club.

[sco07ut]

bbc ghosts,,,, i love u,,,,,

ok ok so my mum n i finally finished watching ghosts and i’m completely insane so erm. rvb ghosts au

carolina is alison (funny) and wash is mike (i don’t ship carwash, in this au im imagining they’re sibs just living together bc the economy’s fucked yk how it is) they inherited the house from their estranged dad, dr leonard church and after a near death experience carolina gains the ability to see ghosts

delano house (ok . if i was going by Actual logic with the character assignments it would Technically be called gene house but i don’t think he deserves that much credit, and i’ll explain this when i get onto simmons little introductory section) is inhabited by eight main ghosts (and a plague pit of zealots in the basement but dw about those guys) from a bunch of different time periods and they all sort of hatelove each other bc none of them can leave (unless they, by some miracle, ascend) so they kind of jst endure each others’ presence

anyway, without further ado: caboose is kitty (georgian noble), simmons is thomas thorne (victorian poet), tucker is julian fawcett (modern day mp), donut is stephanie button (edwardian noble), doc is patrick butcher (1980’s scout leader), sarge as the captain (ww2 captain), grif as mary (stuart era witch trial victim), lopez as humphrey bone (tudor noble) and locus as robin (caveman)

(more in-depth character stuff under the cut !!)

caboose:

caboose as kitty! i jst think their characters align really nicely, they’re both loveable idiots who follow their best friends around. i def think carolina reminds him of church (who is annie in this au who basically ascends a few hundred years before carolina is even born) so he follows her around like a miserable little duckling. the ‘sister’ that bullied him is fuckign miller from rat’s nest

simmons:

this pathetic worm is thomas !! he isn’t in love with carolina the way thomas is in love with allison, instead he sees carolina kinda like a big sister figure and always asks her for dating advice. his backstory is where things r interesting tho i think. in the show, thomas is in love with a woman called isabel, however her father is against the two of them being together, so when he attends an event where isabel is also present he wants to converse with her to make sure the two of them are still secretly an item but can’t find the opportunity to do so. his cousin, francis button, offers to deliver a letter to isabel with his feelings but backstabs him by faking the letters (saying they basically don’t love each other anymore) then tricks thomas into engaging in a duel that gets him killed (he then also denies thomas’ last request to see isabel by telling her he’s already dead). yikes. anyway. in this au, gene is francis button, and instead of simmons being in love with some woman he hears some guys slandering his own dad’s name (hargrove) and engages in a duel with them over it. the reality behind the situation, however, is that gene essentially orchestrated his death. the people he ‘heard’ talking shit abt his dad weren’t actually, gene jsut told him they were. when he then begins the duel, gene tells him it’s 20 paces when in actuality it’s only 10. once simmons is shot and requests to see his father one last time gene pretends to go do that but actually tells hargrove that simmons was dead when he got to him

okay !! so i mentioned that delano house should technically be called gene house if we were to go by the show’s lore. once francis tells isabel that thomas is dead, he then essentially woos her and marries her, moving into her home and which then becomes button house. so in the au ig it would technically be called gene house however i don’t rock w that because it would then later mean donut is called franklin delano gene which is wrong on so many levels. so instead, gene just takes the existing name of the house, delano. yk i’ve just typed all this up and realised that i’m probably the sole person in the world who actually cares about it. darn

finally moving on, tucker!

self explanatory, julian dies in the middle of shagging someone and is now doomed to spend the rest of eternity wandering round with no pants on. it’s so ridiculously in character. plus ig the whole ‘being able to interact wit the real world’ thing ties into tucker’s whole main character schtick

donut:

the lady of the house ! in life his mother, chrovos, was very insistent about marrying him off to a richer family to try make up for all their debt but all he wanted to do was become a famous fashion designer. maybe if his mother had let him follow that passion he might’ve made a brand famous enough to claw them out of debt but instead he got an early death from an adulterous husband (genkins)

doc:

pat my absolute beloved. he had taken out a group of kids (the ai) to the house’s grounds for a day of archery, however while going through the safety protocols o’malley accidentally let an arrow loose that got him straight through the neck. he then managed to traumatise the entire group by dying slowly in front of them ❤️

sarge:

again another character that’s just a perfect match, sarge doesn’t have a name, the captain doesn’t have a name, they’re both obsessed with a war that’s long gone, they’re both fruity asf. not even joking, the lieutenant that the captain has a crush on is one butch flowers in this au, sarge misses him but has started to find a new object of affection in wash (despite the fact that wash cannot see, hear or interact with him at all)

grif:

burned at the stake for being a witch ! in reality he was just a man passing through the town and everyone Thought was some sort of woman who was harbouring satan in her throat or something. his long hair and curvy form Tricked them all n he paid the price. his death kinda did a number on him though, and it took a while for him to come back out of his shell (essentially after church dragged him out kicking and screaming)

lopez:

the noble that managed to survive a coup only to immediately accidentally behead himself with a pair of decorative wall swords. unlike the show, lopez is the one that doesn’t speak english while his arranged wife shiela Does and planned the murder of the monarchy under his nose. he still loved her tho.

and last but not least, locus:

i definitely hc that his name was actually locust/lotus but the first few ghosts that met him kept getting it wrong until he eventually just settled on locus (in the same way robin is actually called ‘rogh’). he’s been there the longest, definitely took a Long time to warm up to other humans after being betrayed before his death (felix and sharkface, or lick and face, pushed him into what they Thought was a bear den so that they could escape but ultimately it lead to their deaths while locus managed to get away, only to be struck by lightning immediately afterwards)

i think that covers everyone who has a canon death thus far ! sorry for going a little insane over simmons

[csgiftexchange]

GIFT GRAB

Participants: @anmylica @captainodonoghue @cocohook38 @cosette141 @everything-person @i-will-sing-no-requiem @jrob64 @kazoosandfannypacks @middlemistcs13 @nachocheese-itsmycheese @sotangledupinit @their-seafaring-ways @totheendoftheworldortime

Gifts:

Giftee 1 WANTS: fanart of one of their fics, cursed!Killian, Movie au of Divergent Harry Potter Jumanji 2017 2019 or Avatar. NO: permanent character death for either Killian or Emma

Giftee 2 WANTS: missing moments, Killian exploring the land without magic, Captain/Lieutenant Duckling. Has no restriction.

Giftee 3 WANTS: pirate princess, canon au, supernatural au NO: angst, character death

Giftee 4 WANTS: fanart of one of their fics, canon compliant or divergent physical hurt comfort, one bed sharing before Emma and killian are together NO: smut, too much sexual innuendo/intention, character death, dark ones, season 5a, AUs, graphic injuries/gore

Giftee 5 WANTS: au fanfic, fanart, christmas anything. NO: smutt, shirtless fanart, no swearing, no villainizing Neal or Milah

Giftee 6 WANTS: one bed modern au, childhood best friends, sick fic au. Has no restrictions.

Giftee 7 WANTS: enemies to lovers, slow burn, captain duckling, cs role reversal. NO: permanent character death, supporting Neal.

Giftee 8 WANTS: gifsets, enemies to lovers, lieutenant duckling, pirate!Killian -princess!Emma, lieutenant duckling or pirate!Killian - princess!Emma fanart. NO: Graham or Neal.

Giftee 9 WANTS: Hurt/comfort, modern AU, Christmas themed CS fluff, must have happy ending. NO: friendship between Emma & Regina

Giftee 10 WANTS: anything set in season 3 or 4, mutual pining, any fanart. NO: AUs.

Giftee 11 WANTS: angst and/or smutt, western/farm/ranch au, any au, fluffy family holiday/winter fic/art. NO: whump, Ingrid

Giftee 12 WANTS: Established relationship, cs family fluff, cs parents, modern au with established relationship. NO: character death, angst.

Giftee 13 WANTS: Enemies/rivals to lovers; fake dating; captain cobra swan. NO: no major character death (I.e., emma or killian), no victor/ruby

[princess-and-the-swan]

One-Shot Fic Rec: counting down (the weeks, the days, the hours)

By AlexandraLyman | Rating: T

He counts down the days left until he's eighteen and can finally leave, join the Navy like his brother and get the hell out of this town. She's waiting to age out of the system so she can find a place near a beach and make it her home.

Read it on AO3

[searchingwardrobes]

No Wives, No Mothers, No Lovers : 5/7

Yes, finally! An update! @snowbellewells​, I'm sorry this fic is taking me so long to finish. I hope you enjoy this chapter, especially the characters that appear in it, even though it ends on a cliffhanger. Yes, I said a cliffhanger. On the bright side, this fic is near completion. Yay! Love ya, Marta, and I hope this summer is full of sunshine and rest.

Summary:   He must be hallucinating. Because Emma Swan is supposed to be in Miami, Florida where he left her. Emma Swan isn’t supposed to be on this rocky stretch of beach, completely drenched, and wearing a ball gown of all things. A Lieutenant Duckling AU (sort of) in which Emma is a siren who isn’t supposed to fall in love with a human.  

Length: about 3k in this chapter

Rated: T

Previous Chapters: One | Two | Three  | Four

Also on Ao3

Tagging (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed): @teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @xhookswenchx-reads-blog @winterbythesea @thisonesatellite @welllpthisishappening @spartanguard @ohmakemeahercules @tiganasummertree @sparlecorn93 @sals86 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @zaharadessert​ @huntressandlioness1 @jamif @undercaffinatednightmare​ @onceratheart18​ @sparlecorn93​ @sals86​ @pirateprincessofpizza​ @xarandomdreamx​ @zaharadessert​ @huntressandlioness1​ @iverna​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​

Chapter Five:

Killian gasps and coughs, his chest burning and his head pounding. He’s trembling all over, soaked to the bone, and the rain is pouring down again. Everything is blurry; he can barely see through the storm and rain, but he thinks he sees Emma’s blonde hair. Thinks he feels its soft, silky strands caress his cheek, which is odd. Her hair should be wet. But maybe every bit of it is a dream because his eyes slide shut, and then darkness surrounds him again . . . 

The next time he awakes, he can’t keep his eyes open, no matter how hard he tries. He only gets glimpses of the people around him, and a bright light above. The light hurts. The sand and rocks scrape his skin. Someone calls his name . . . 

He awakes the third time in a hospital bed. The light still hurts. So does his throat. Its silent except for the beeping of machines. Liam is asleep in the chair beside his bed, but the moment Killian turns his head, Liam is awake and reaching for his hand. 

“Emma,” Killian manages to rasp out, his throat like sandpaper. 

Liam frowns, shaking his head. “You were alone on the beach when we found you.”

Killian struggles to speak, but his throat feels like it’s closing up. Liam tries to get him to stop talking, to calm down. 

“Must . . . find her . . . help her.”

Liam has a difficult time meeting his gaze, but he finally manages to tell him the truth. “Killian, it stormed that night. The tide was strong. The shoes Emma was wearing washed up on the beach, so . . .”

And just like that, a piece of Killian dies. At least, it must, considering what comes as the months slip by . . . 

The doctors can’t explain any of it. There seems to be no purpose for the fevers that rage, the pain that afflicts different parts of Killian’s body: sometimes his throat so he can not speak, sometimes his legs so he can not walk, sometimes his head so he can not tolerate the light. Things get worse as the days turn to weeks, the weeks into months. At times he struggles to breath, at others he doubles over in pain. He has no appetite, but he tries to eat whenever he sees the fear in Liam’s eyes. The food only comes right back up again, though. He’s slowly wasting away, and nothing can explain why. Every test comes back negative. There’s no cancer, no autoimmune disease, no tumors, no explanation whatsoever. Killian jokes that he’s a gift to medical science. Neither Liam nor Elsa laugh. 

He never thought of himself as important in the town of Storybrooke, or even well-liked. Yet, all of a sudden, he seems to be the town's beloved son. The church’s pray for him every Sunday, fundraisers are thrown to cover his medical costs, a wheelchair and a ramp are donated by the nuns in town, and they have enough casseroles in the freezer to feed them for an entire year. 

He has visitors often, even from “the dwarves.” When Liam and Elsa push him along Main Street in his wheelchair, everyone stops to talk.

One afternoon, Killian shouts for Liam to stop. 

“What is it, little brother?”

Killian peers at the boardwalk along the shore, his eyes narrowed. A flash of bright red hair is the last thing he sees. Killian sags in his chair. 

“Nothing. I just thought I saw someone I knew.”

*******************************************************************

Miles away, a strange procession walks towards the shore. Three beautiful young women carry the emaciated body of a fourth young woman. Though the fourth one is unable to keep her eyes open and sags in their arms, she is easy to carry.

The women walk right into the sea, floating the sick woman’s body upon the water. Her blonde hair fans out around her. It was once sparkling gold, now it is a sallow, dirty yellow. Her once pink, fair skin is now a ghastly gray. Her full cheeks are now sunken and dark circles line her eyes. 

The eldest of the women, a woman with auburn hair named Belle, takes charge. She has served Mother Ocean for fifty years now. Not as long as Emma, but half her sentence. Mother wouldn’t appreciate the word “sentence,” however. She would call the last fifty years her “gift” to Belle. 

“Mother! We need your help, Mother!” Belle calls. 

The ocean ripples around them, shimmering as it curls around to caress them. Though no words can be heard with human ears, the four sirens can understand Mother Ocean as she speaks. 

Well, at least three of them can now. The blonde may be past the ability to hear anyone, even the ocean. 

What is wrong with my daughter? Why is she sick? Sirens can’t get sick!

“Obviously they can,” mutters Ruby, her dark hair cascading about her, still full and dry though it is halfway in the water. Ruby has served Mother Ocean for thirty years and can still be a bit rebellious.

“Careful, Ruby,” Belle warns. 

“Emma is dying!” Ruby snaps. “I don’t give a damn about protocol.”

The Ocean calls herself their Mother. Calls the sirens her daughters. Says she loves them. But she can also be a cruel and capricious master.

My Emma can not die while in my care! 

Mother Ocean rages, ripping Emma’s body from the hands of her sister sirens and plunging her beneath the waters. 

“No!” the other three shout. 

Mother Ocean releases the blonde siren in mere moments, however. Emma pops up out of the water, choking and gasping for breath. She sags, struggles, then goes back under. The other three grab her and hold her aloft upon the water once again. 

“See!” The siren with bright red hair weeps. Her name is Ariel and she has only just begun her sentence as a siren two years ago. She still has 98 years of service ahead of her. 

I don’t understand. The Ocean’s voice echoes in their heads. Why can’t she breathe underwater anymore? Why can’t she swim?

“We were hoping you could tell us that,” Ruby replies. 

Suddenly, the waves grab the brunette. Tendrils of watery tentacles wrap around her neck, and Ruby begins to gasp for breath, her fingers clawing at the watery strands about her neck. 

Perhaps I have tolerated your insolence for too long, daughter!

“Please, Mother,” a sickly voice rasps, “spare her. She is only worried about me, her sister.”

Mother Ocean drops Ruby with a splash and envelopes Emma in a watery cradle. 

My dearest Emma, what is wrong?

Though she is gasping for breath, Ruby still speaks the truth. “Perhaps it’s the fifty years you added to her sentence. She only had twenty more to serve!”

She vowed she would do anything if I only saved that boy. She defied me by going to him at all! She knew the rules! I had mercy upon her. And him. 

It was the way of the sirens. No wives, no mothers, no lovers. Mother Ocean would not rescue a woman from drowning if she was any of those things. And when a woman made the deal - salvation from drowning in exchange for one hundred years of service as a siren - she also agreed to never fall in love. 

“Honestly?” Belle says quietly. “She was never the same after the cruise ship.”

She has always been tenderhearted. Sighs Mother Ocean, as if it is a character flaw. Yet she defied me too that day!

Belle, Ruby, and Ariel exchange hesitant glances. It’s true. Mother Ocean has to be fed, and it’s up to her sirens to fulfill her appetite by luring people to their deaths with their song. It isn’t a pleasant task for any siren, but it has always been especially difficult for Emma. Maybe because her family died the day she was rescued. Or maybe because there had always been something special about Emma. A sense of compassion and justice. That fateful day when Mother Ocean had called them to the cruise ship, Emma had stopped singing when she saw the bride in the water, frantically searching the waves for her groom. Emma had been tempted to save that bride, and Mother Ocean was not happy. 

Then Emma had disappeared. They all knew she was heartbroken. They didn’t know she had swam towards Killian - the boy she’d fled from in Miami. 

“She tried to forget him, you know,” Ariel tries to explain. “She said she didn’t even mean to go to him. She didn’t even know where he was. She said she felt a tug in her middle, and she swam where it was tugging her.”

Mother Ocean trembles. What did you say?

Ariel, new at this and still terrified of crossing Mother Ocean, gives her sisters a terrified look. 

“A tugging,” Belle takes over. “She felt a tug telling her where to swim, so to speak.”

And after I saved the boy?

“She was depressed at first,” Belle explains sadly, “and then there was the day you called us to that yacht. She did her job, same as always, but halfway home, she was struggling to breathe and swim.”

I remember that. I carried her home. 

“And it’s only worsened since then,” Ariel continues. “She felt like she had a cold, which should be impossible.”

Sirens are immortal during their hundred years of service. They can’t get sick or hurt. They don’t even get tired or need sleep. Then, after their service is fulfilled, the immortality is lifted, and they are a human again at the same age they were when called: 17, 18, or 19. Each girl gets to choose where to live out her new human life. Her sisters help her plan, get settled, and then . . . Her memory of a siren is erased. 

One hundred years, then a clean slate. It seems an easy choice. At first. When all you're thinking of is death by drowning. 

“I’m telling you,” Ruby says, voice still raspy from Mother Ocean’s threat, “you broke her heart with your punishment. She’s tenderhearted about our job, yes, but she’s always loved you, Mother.”

She is a good daughter. Mother Earth caresses Emma again, rocking her in a sweet embrace. And I love her. Which is why I don’t understand. If she loves me, why should fifty more years with me matter? I confess, I was relieved to have her longer. I don’t want to give her up. 

“That isn’t love!” Ruby shouts. In a perverse way, maybe she wants Mother to destroy her. 

What do you mean? 

Tears stream down Ruby’s face. “Love wants what is best for the other person. Love doesn’t demand affection. Love doesn’t threaten. We fear you, Mother!”

“Ruby,” Belle whispers with concern. 

As you should!! Thunders mother ocean. What power on earth compares to mine? 

“None,” the girls answer.

“Please, Mother,” Ariel begs, “heal Emma.”

I - I don’t know how. This . . . shouldn’t be possible. The boy - No, it couldn’t be. It’s never happened.

The three sirens exchange glances, then they nod in agreement.

“He’s sick, too,” Belle tells the Ocean.

What?

“We tracked him down,” Ruby explains. “We thought maybe if Emma knew he was okay, she would get better.”

Ariel picks up the story. “But when we found him, he was dying. With the same symptoms Emma has.”

“Is it because Emma kissed him?” Belle asks. 

If that were the case, Ruby would have died a long time ago.

Ruby shrugs with a self-deprecating smile as the Ocean ripples with her version of laughter. 

I suspected when you mentioned the tugging Emma felt. It’s incredibly rare, but Emma has found her true love. They are now connected. 

“Then why are they dying?” Ariel asks. 

Because I have separated them. The only way either one will survive is if I let Emma go.

“Then do it!” the three girls shout.

I won’t let her go! She is mine!!!!

“Exactly like I said,” Ruby says sadly, softly, “you don’t know how to love.”

It is eerily silent for several long, tense, moments. Then the tide sucks at Emma’s body, ripping her from the arms of her sisters. The girls cry out, tears streaming down their cheeks. 

Give her to me. It is the only way.

[funnywiccanwritingcorner]

Le joyau le plus precieux

A Lucky Luke Modern!AU fanfiction

Chapter III - Family

Days passed. Although he still let Lucky Luke slip away, the police chief wrote a note of praise to Joe Dalton for recovering the loot. Everyone congratulated him, but the detective cared little: he was still emotionally messed up. For everyone his was a victory, but for him it was an embarrassing memory that he would never recount. Besides, that damned thief had filled him with a lot of questions: why was he stealing? Although this one wasn't actually new, it had just taken on a different meaning. What did he mean by trusting him? Besides, what was he doing with one stolen item at a time? He rested his face on his desk, huffing. The forensic analysis of the bag containing the jewellery had led to nothing; it was spotless and without fingerprints. They had nothing in their hands. The most frustrating thing, though, was being... wooed? There was no other way to describe it. Yes, being wooed by that hottie. Worse, he couldn't get that persuasive voice out of his head that said “I'll show up”.

Joe was going crazy. 

Was the thief going to keep that kind of promise?

-Detective Dalton?- A squeaky female voice announced the entry into the office of a young woman with voluminous red hair in a suit. -Betty, I already told you, you can call me Joe...- -We're at work, I'm trying to be professional!- she joked. -You're Averell's fiancée, practically one of the family.- -But I'm also the department's psychologist. Speaking of which, I'd like to remind you that our weekly session has moved to Thursdays, at least for a while.- -Problems?- -I am under pressure to accommodate external agents in my office, my schedule is full. But I'm always there for my future brother-in-law!- winked the woman. -You are kind. Thank you. But at the moment my only worries are about work, as usual.- Betty gave him one last understanding smile before opening the door again, but froze: -What a fool! I almost forgot: later on I will send you through Pierre some permits to sign; these are therapeutic leaves that I recommended myself. The captain can't take care of it, and I need a valid name.- -Of course, that's fine.- Leaving the office, the redhead crossed a short corridor until she met the other three Dalton brothers at an appointed point. Immediately William asked her: 

-So? Everything OK? -No. He seems a bit tired, and says he's worried about work, but I think he's hiding something.- -Maybe you should prepare a leave of absence for him too; you know, this Lucky Luke thing puts a lot of pressure on him- Averell said. -I could do that, but I'm sure he would answer that he doesn't need it.- -He's been weird ever since he stopped Lucky Luke from stealing from the Palace of Versailles- observed Jack, -maybe he's not happy that he escaped.- They continued to speculate until lunchtime; the four brothers stood in the hall and all went out together.

There was a diner, not far from the departmental headquarters, called “Mère L'Oie”, where they always went to eat. Wedged between the shop of a well-known shoe brand and a perfumery, it was distinguished by its lemon-yellow sunshade awning and sign, where above the name was painted a row of ducklings following their mother; the latter carried a wicker picnic basket in her beak. It was Averell who had suggested it as a “favourite lunch spot”: the portions were generous and every Wednesday there was raspberry tart for dessert. They even had a table practically reserved, near the large window overlooking the street.

It was when it was time to order the second course that William brought up the subject of Lucky Luke to test the waters: -So, Joe, do you have a new plan in the pipeline?- -Please?- His brother was overthinking, fiddling with a corner of his napkin. -Lucky Luke. What are you going to do with him?- -Well... I would say that at the moment deploying extra forces was not effective. I need to go over a few things, it's gonna take a while.- -Whatever. If I have to do some research...- -Let's check the list we've already drawn up- Joe cut in short, -How about chicken cutlets with fries?-

To call a house “cozy” is just another way of saying it is small. Back then, the Dalton brothers house could be described as very cozy, to some as stuffy. Because you know, most males are messy, and even though Joe had established rules and cleaning routines from the start, only the youngest seemed to abide by them to the letter. A flat consisting of three rooms, a bathroom and a kitchen/dining room/living room. To them it was a castle. Averell claimed it was a metaphor for their close bond. After all, they had always done everything together, from primary school to the police academy, as well as mischief when they were kids.

Yes, they were real hooligans: they lit firecrackers under their grandfather's armchair, attached cans to their cat's tail, and once they grew up they went on to smash shop windows and vandalise in every way possible. Their mother, exasperated, literally dragged them out of their small American town by the ears to take them to Europe, to Paris, and to teach them discipline she sent them off to make their bones as police cadets.

And there they were, gathered on the couch after a day's work of patrols, paperwork and reporting, munching popcorn and watching a movie, annoying each other from time to time; Averell was the favourite target because he was ticklish. -But wouldn't it be simpler to freeze that parasite?- commented William, -I mean, if it has acid blood, it seems the logical thing to do.- -Shush, I want to follow!- Jack scoffed. The younger man clutched a pillow in his arms, curled up in his seat: -Joe, there are no such beasts, are there?- -No, Averell, they don't exist- the elder replied boredly, -And look, the guy's fine, he pulled that thing off himself.- But at the next scene, much more horrifying than the first, Averell hid his face in his pillow: -How disgusting!- -Come on, he just got a little monster out of his stomach!- remarked one of the twins with an evil giggle, who exchanged a fist bump with the other. -Iiiiiihh!!! Stop it!!- Joe turned off the television set: -Ok, that's enough! Off to bed!- -But Joe...- -If you don't want to do the dishes for a week, obey.- So shortly afterwards it was his turn to go and reassure Averell that no aliens would bite his face off during the night. A typical evening at the Dalton house.

Seeing his younger siblings sleeping blissfully, the twins in their bunk beds and the younger one hugging his pillow mumbling in his sleep, was something that always made Joe feel good. He scolded them often, and sometimes they fought by punching each other, but the affection that bound them together was evident. The eldest was always the last to go to sleep, partly because he wanted to make sure everything was locked up, and also because he always lingered watching Paris at night from his window, with the streetlights casting a yellowish glow over the streets and pavements. Suddenly his mobile phone rang. He went to look: unknown number. He answered anyway, with a brief hesitation: -Hello?- -Hello, Detective Dalton.-

[captainodonoghue]

Ho ho... SECRET SANTA is here 👋

Im super excited to be your Santa this year, so tell me more about what type of fanfiction you read/write yourself. Any favourite tropes i should take in, themes, pairing (aside from captainswan ofcause 🙃😉🥰)

Any dislike to genre etc?

Perhaps you even have a prompt you want to see written?

Im comfortable writing almost anything (smut included).... but I don't usually write heavy angst.

So let me know your thoughts and ill get my thinking cap on.... it's going to be so much fun 🥰

Hey, Santa!! I'm so excited for the event and get to know you!

My favourite tropes are enemies/friends to lovers, lieutenant duckling, captain duckling, modern/canon AUs and all the cheesy stuff! haha Aah also I looove fake relationship/marriage AUs! I usually like when it's just captain swan but I don't mind mentions of other ships that don't include Killian or Emma! haha I don't really dislike any genre, as long as it has a happy ending, I'm good with anything except maybe horror because I get scared easily. Smut is always welcomed if you really comfortable with it though.

I have some prompts here but don't limit yourself to these if they don't inspire you, Santa! I'm sure I'll like it whatever it is!

[wistfulcynic]

Love Blooms

Summary: Princess Emma and Lieutenant Killian Jones have been together for three years. They’re deeply in love and an engagement is imminent. There’s only one problem: His brother doesn’t know about them, and Killian isn’t sure how to tell him. So when Liam finds out by accident, all that’s left is for Emma and Killian to fill him in on the story of how they met. 

This is that story. 

(a prequel--and sequel--to Error 404: “Little” Brother Not Found)

-

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @mariakov81​​!!! My lovely, brilliantly talented Masha, you are a  pure delight. Your gif responses make me laugh and your art makes me cry. Your enthusiasm and love of fic is so inspiring and your encouragement is one of the reasons I’m still writing. I love you lots. 😘

You mentioned that you’d like to read a meet-cute, so I hope this one pleases you. Have a FANTASTIC day ❤️❤️❤️❤️

-

Rating: G  Words: 4.3k Tags: Lieutenant Duckling, Modern Lieutenant Duckling, Modern Royalty AU, Brothers Jones, College AU, Meet-Cute

On AO3

-

Love Blooms: 

It should have worked, really. As risky plans go, it was a pretty solid one. It should absolutely have worked. 

Princess Emma was easily recognisable, of course. As the only royal child and heir to the throne she’d been photographed extensively all her life, and those photos disseminated throughout the kingdom. But they were always taken in controlled situations, with her hair carefully styled and her clothing precisely engineered to invoke a very specific image. Her parents made absolutely certain of that. 

After the attempted coup by the queen’s stepmother on the day of the princess’s birth, the king and queen had taken decisive action to protect their only child and to ensure that no one but trusted personnel had access to her. On the rare occasions when she left the expansive palace grounds, no paparazzi followed her and none of Misthaven’s citizens so much as snuck a sneaky pic with a cell phone. Emma was to have protection and privacy until she came of age and officially took on her royal duties. That was the deal her parents made with the press and the people, and they enforced it rigidly. 

It should have worked. Emma’s most recognisable feature—her long, bright gold hair—was dyed a temporary dirty blonde (her mother nearly cried) and her green eyes shielded by large glasses. Most days she pulled her hair back in a ponytail and wore no makeup. She dressed in jeans and t-shirts, like any other college kid. It was a good plan. It should have worked. 

She hadn’t reckoned on Killian Jones. 

She’d known him for a few years, sort of. For several months of the summer she was sixteen while his brother served as a member of her personal guard, Killian had hovered around the edges of her world, thin and gawky and usually with his nose in a book. The one time they were introduced he’d gulped visibly and made an awkward bow, then got away as soon as he could. But not before he’d made an impression. 

She wasn’t sure what it was about him that caught her eye—possibly the way he seemed to be trying so hard not to catch it, or the size and variety of the books she saw him reading, or the way he would smirk and roll his eyes whenever he heard something he thought inane (which happened fairly frequently; polite conversation at court was not exactly scintillating). Possibly it was just those eyes, the bright, clear blue of them and the intelligence and humour she was sure she detected in their depths. Whatever it was it made butterflies dance in her belly whenever she saw him, and though they exchanged no more than a dozen words in the months he was at court she couldn’t seem to get him out of her head. 

“What does your brother do?” she’d asked Commander Jones one afternoon, as casually as she could. 

“He’s starting at the university in the autumn,” the commander replied, pride audible in his voice. “Going to study physics and engineering.” 

“Wow.” Emma wished she didn’t find that so impressive. 

“He’s a smart lad,” said Commander Jones with a grin. “He’ll change the world, mark my words.”  

Emma marked them, though she asked no further questions. It wouldn’t do to appear too interested. 

That was August. By October Killian Jones was gone from her life and so was his brother, the elder Jones off to serve on Misthaven’s flagship and the younger of course, to the university. And that really should have been the end of it. 

Her desire to go to university herself had nothing to do with Killian, it truly didn’t. She hadn’t forgotten he was there, exactly, but her determination to attend had far more to do with her status as heir to the throne and wishing to be as prepared as she possibly could be when she became queen. 

“But your tutors have given you the best education you could have,” her mother pointed out. “You’ve studied the history and political structure of Misthaven and all its allies and enemies. You’ve read all our country’s great books and know the history of our art. You speak six languages. That’s far more  knowledge than I had when I became queen. What else are you looking for?” 

“I want a chance to get to know the people I’m going to be ruling,” said Emma. “That’s one thing you had that I don’t. I’ve spent my whole life in the palace, and I know you kept me here for my own safety but I’m nineteen now and I want to meet people. Real ones. Ones who don’t know I’m the princess.” 

“Emma—” 

“Just give me a year,” she pleaded. “Just a year to go to college and live like a normal student. I’ll wear a disguise and go by a different name, you can even plant guards around me if you must but please, please just let me do this.” 

In the end her parents relented. Her mother, despite her tears at the new hair colour, had been unconvinced that the small changes Emma made to her appearance would be enough of a disguise, but Emma insisted they were plenty and her father backed her up. 

“Do you know why no one figured out Clark Kent was Superman?” Emma asked, as King David nodded approvingly behind her. “It wasn’t because putting on glasses was such an intricate disguise. It’s because the idea of Superman working at a newspaper was so completely absurd. No one saw a superhero in an ordinary reporter and no one’s going to see the princess of the realm in an ordinary literature major. People see what they expect to see.” 

And they had. All of them. All except Killian Jones. 

She really hadn’t reckoned on him. 

She settled in well to college life, though it was not the easiest transition going from her own suite of rooms in the palace to a tiny dorm shared with another student, a bright, chatty girl called Ruby. Ruby was easygoing and outgoing and always going. She loved to party and whenever she went out tried to coax Emma along as well, and though Emma really had gone to college with the intent to study, she reasoned that her main aim in being there was to get to know her people, and what better way to do that than at a party? 

Which is how she found herself two weeks into her first semester standing in the living room of a run-down student house, sipping valiantly at some locally-brewed ale and trying to remember the names of all the people Ruby introduced her to, and trying to remember that when they said ‘Anna,’ they were talking to her. 

She was chatting with a boy called Walsh who had a supercilious smile and, she soon realised, a very high opinion of himself, when her flagging attention was caught by shrieks of laughter coming from the other side of the room. She glanced over in search of their source then immediately looked again, blinking rapidly to keep her eyes from bugging out of her head. 

There across the room, surrounded by a largish group of people—one of whom, Emma noted, was Ruby—stood Killian Jones. It was him, she was sure of it, sure that she would recognise him anywhere, but oh, the changes time had wrought on the boy she’d known. She wasn’t sure if he really was any taller but he looked it, standing straight with his shoulders squared. There was stubble on his jaw and hair on his chest, clearly displayed by the undone buttons of his henley, and his eyes—so much brighter when not hidden behind thick glasses—twinkled as he delivered a quip that had everyone around him exploding in fresh peals of mirth. 

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him, staring so hard she could see the exact moment he sensed her gaze and turned, his own eyes widening immediately in recognition. Of course he recognised her, Emma thought, he would; however older and cooler and hotter he might be now he was still the smartest boy she’d ever met and Superman’s disguise could not fool him. 

He stared at her for the longest moment of her life and then he winked—the worst excuse for a wink she’d ever seen—and turned his attention back to his crowd. Emma breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t going to blow her cover. 

She realised with a start that Walsh had kept on talking this whole time and she hadn’t heard a word he said. He seemed to realise that too, finally, and scowled at her. 

“Hey,” he said. “Earth to Anna.” 

“Sorry.” She offered a polite smile. “My mind wandered.” 

“Well, wander it back over here,” he said. “I was telling you all about my Reddit subgroup I started, and you weren’t even listening.” 

“Sorry,” she repeated. “Though actually, would you excuse me, I—” 

“Are you kidding me?” he snapped, his scowl darkening. “I bring you a drink, come all the way over here to talk to you. All I ask in return is a little bit of attention and you can’t even give me that.”

“I—”

“I’m a nice guy, you know,” he continued, moving closer. “I’d treat you right. Don’t think I didn’t see who you were looking at just now. If you think those guys would treat you better than I—” 

“Look, Welsh—” Emma interrupted, bristling at his presumption and his tone. 

“It’s Walsh.” 

“Yes, sorry, Walsh. Um, I don’t know what you think this is, but we only just met. We’ve been talking for ten minutes and it’s basically been you monologuing about Reddit the whole time. If you’re really looking to connect with people it might be better to ask them something about themselves instead of dominating the conversation.” 

“Oh, right, because it’s all about you, isn’t it?” 

“That’s not what I—” 

“You’re not even that pretty, you know,” he sneered. “Glasses are really unattractive on a woman.” 

Emma began to sputter with indignation. No one had ever spoken to her in such a way before and she was outraged to learn that there were men in her realm who felt that it was acceptable to insult women as long as they weren’t royalty, apparently. Walsh smirked as she struggled to find words vile enough to express her opinion of him, and then a deep voice spoke from just over her shoulder. 

“Perhaps you’re the one who needs glasses, mate, if that’s what you really think.” 

Emma didn’t even need the butterflies leaping up in her belly to know that the voice was Killian’s. Her heart began to pound in time to the butterflies’ dance as she turned to find him standing just behind her, glowering darkly at Walsh. “I’m certain the lady told you she’s not interested, so why don’t you bugger off back to whatever rock you crawled out from under?” he snarled. 

“You can’t tell me what to do,” blustered Walsh.

“And yet I just did.” 

“Who the hell do you think you are—” 

“He’s my boyfriend.” Emma jumped in before the scene could escalate, blurting the first thing that popped into her head. Walsh gaped at her, so astounded that he failed to notice Killian’s own slack jaw and bugging eyes. Killian recovered quickly, however, and casually looped an arm around Emma’s shoulders. 

“Aye,” he said. “I am.” 

Emma slipped her own arm around his waist, leaning her head against his shoulder and doing her best not to faint. He was surprisingly sturdy and he smelled so good. She wanted to bury her nose in his neck and just breathe. 

“So stop trying it on with my girlfriend and piss off,” he said, tightening his arm to tuck her more securely against his side while also managing to loom over Walsh through the sheer force of his personality, despite them being more or less of a height.  

Walsh glared at Killian and then at Emma and then back to Killian again, and when neither of them budged he reached out and snatched the cup of ale from Emma’s hand. 

“I’ll be taking that back, then,” he huffed, and marched away. 

“Thank goodness,” said Emma. “It was not pleasant.” 

“Dwarf ale,” remarked Killian. “Not for the faint of stomach.” 

Emma chuckled and looked up at him, into those bright blue eyes that had never faded from her memory. He grinned back at her, a grin with an edge it hadn’t had three years ago, and she caught her breath. 

“Killian—” she began, then his eyes went wide with horror and his ears flushed bright pink. He pulled his arm away so quickly she stumbled and stepped back, rubbing the back of his neck. “Bloody hell,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, Em—er, Your High—” 

“Shhhh,” hissed Emma, grabbing his arm and pulling him into a quiet corner. “Careful or you’ll blow my cover. My name’s Anna now. Anna Swan.” 

His tense expression relaxed and he raised an eyebrow. “Swan, hmm? Interesting choice.” 

“Yeah, it’s a—well, it’s a story. Kind of a long one.” 

He smiled, the eager, interested smile she remembered so well. “I have time. If you’d care to tell it?” 

He got her a drink, a sweet, fizzy one this time laced with just a few drops from his cup of Glowerhaven rum. They stood close together in the darkened corner and he listened intently as she told him about her childhood fondness for the palace swans, their elegant beauty and terrible manners, and how she’d loved reading the tales of the Swan Princess and the fable of the Ugly Duckling, and how her father had taken to calling her his little duckling after she’d demanded he read her that story at bedtime for three months straight. 

“So it just seemed appropriate,” she said with a shrug. “Meaningful, but also it doesn’t give anyone a clue as to who I am.” 

“And it suits you,” said Killian. “Swan. Beautiful and fearsome, just like you.” 

“I’m not fearsome!” she protested, scowling to cover the blush that heated her cheeks when he called her beautiful. 

“Aren’t you?” he asked earnestly. “You terrify me.” 

“I do? I don’t wish to.” 

“I’m sure it’s unintentional,” he said softly. “And more to do with me being timid.” 

“You’re not timid,” she scoffed. 

“Much less so than I used to be. And yet—” he took her hand and held it to his chest, just above his pounding heart. “You see?”

Emma gulped and her mouth went dry. His chest was firm and the hair on it rough beneath the fabric of his shirt, his hand covering hers so warm. 

“Mine’s the same, though,” she whispered, taking his other hand. With hers still on his chest she could feel his sharp inhale and his heart racing even faster when she laid his palm flat over her own frantic heartbeat. 

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Their eyes locked, his looking dazed and very dark, the colour high on his cheeks and his breaths audibly harsh. 

She licked her lips and his eyes followed the movement, his fingers tightening around hers, his hand on her chest sliding up to curl around her neck. He leaned his head down and she tipped her chin up and their lips were barely a breath apart when a crash and a shriek sounded from the kitchen and they both jumped. Killian squeezed his eyes shut, swearing viciously under his breath as he released her hand and neck and stepped away. 

“It sounds like things are winding down here,” he said gruffly. “When glassware starts to shatter, that’s your cue to leave. Bit of advice.” 

Disappointment tasted bitter, Emma realised. Bitter and crushing and achy and she hated it. She never wished to feel it again. She nodded in response, unable to speak.  

They stood silently for a minute, then Killian sighed. “So, um, may I see you home?” he asked, rubbing at his neck again. 

She smiled despite herself. “We’re not at court, Killian.” 

“Perhaps not, but I’d still like to walk you back.” 

“Yeah.” Her smile came more easily with the next attempt. “I’d like that too.” 

He kept his hands in his pockets as they walked the short distance to her dorm, but she was acutely aware of him and how near he was and the faint heat she could still feel from his body. When they reached her building he turned to her and smiled. 

“Well, Swan, I hope it won’t be another three years until I see you again,” he said.  

“It’s a small campus and I’m here until next summer, so I’d guess probably not.” Not if she had anything to say about it, she thought. 

“You’re only staying for a year?” he asked. 

“It’s all my parents would permit.” 

“Ah. I’ve only this year remaining as well, actually, until I graduate.” 

“Graduate? But—in three years?” 

He shrugged. “I’ve worked hard.” 

It was more than that, Emma knew. He was clever and ambitious and determined to make something of himself. To change the world, just as his brother had predicted. She didn’t know the precise circumstances of the Joneses’ life before they found refuge in Misthaven, but from the few hints Commander—now Captain—Jones had dropped they hadn’t had the easiest of beginnings. That they had already made such a success of themselves was deeply impressive, and Emma suspected they were only just getting started. 

“Do you—have far to walk to get home?” she asked, a bit wistfully. It was late and she was tired but she didn’t want Killian to go. She wasn’t ready for their time together to end. 

“Just to the other side of campus,” he replied. “I’m here on a military training scholarship so I live with the other cadets. When I graduate I’ll join the navy as a lieutenant.” 

“Like your brother.” 

“Aye,” he agreed. “Possibly even on his ship.” 

“That would be amazing.” 

“We think so.” 

They were standing close again, in a shadowy recess just to the side of the door, and Emma’s heart was pounding, not again but more like still; it had barely rested since she’d laid eyes on Killian. He was looking at her with a gaze so intense she could swear she felt it caress her lips and gods she wanted him to kiss her. If only she had paid more attention to the gossip among the ladies at court, or even to Ruby’s chatter the past two weeks, then she might have at least some idea of how to make that happen. How exactly did one go about letting a man know one wished to be kissed without actually saying ‘please kiss me’? Maybe she should just say it? Or, as the princess, did she need to kiss him first? What was the protocol here? She was royalty damn it, she couldn’t do anything until she knew the protocol. 

Instead she just stared at him, feeling hot and itchy and increasingly desperate until he swallowed hard and drew a deep breath, then stepped back. Again. 

“Well. I imagine I’ll see you around, then, Swan.” 

Don’t go, Emma’s body screamed, even as her mouth said “I hope so.” 

He smiled and gave her a small nod, then headed off down the path away from her building, and from her. She watched him go, simmering with frustration. She should have just grabbed him, she thought, and protocol be damned. Grabbed him and kissed him, because damn it she was not going to be able to sleep tonight for wondering what that would feel like, and wishing she didn’t need to wonder. 

With an irritated huff she went to the door, taking her keys from her pocket and sorting through them in search of the correct one. She’d just managed to locate it when a warm hand took her by the elbow and tugged her back into the privacy of the shadows. 

“What the—” she exclaimed, and then Killian’s lips were on hers. The keys slipped from her fingers and fell unheeded to the ground as her knees went weak and she grasped at his shoulders for support. He walked her back until she was pressed against the wall, his arm firm around her waist and his fingers tangling in her hair as he kissed her, soft and slow and deep and gods.  

Emma whimpered, clinging to him, yearning for things she couldn’t articulate. His hand flexed against her jaw at the sound and just for a moment he pulled her flush against him, insistent yet so gentle, like he wanted to consume her and also never let her go. Then, ever so softly, he broke the kiss. 

“Go out with me,” he murmured, leaning his forehead against hers and stroking his thumb across her chin. 

“Hmmmm?” Emma struggled to think through the spinning in her head and the frantic thrum of her blood. “Go where?”

He chuckled. “Let me take you out to dinner. Tomorrow.” 

“Like—a date?” 

“Aye, Swan, very much like a date. An actual date, in fact.” 

She blushed at the gentle teasing but the butterflies in her belly were performing an elaborate pas-de-deux and she felt like she could fly along with them. “I’d like that,” she said. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” 

“All right. Um.” He cleared his throat and stood straight, though his hand remained on her cheek. “I’ll come by here to pick you up. About seven?” 

She nodded. “I’m in room 3017. You can call me on the intercom from down here.” 

“3017,” he repeated. He stepped back with a swagger in his hips this time, and bit his bottom lip in a way that made her want to drag him up to her room now, no date required. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, love,” he said, his voice dripping with promise, and she smiled. 

“Tomorrow.” 

~

“And that’s how it happened.” Emma concludes. “More wine, Captain Jones?” She smiles at Liam who’s gaping at her, slack-jawed. Slowly he inclines his head and pushes his wine glass slightly forward on the table. The three of them are sitting in the small dining area of Emma and Killian’s apartments at the palace, sharing dinner as they fill Liam in on the story of their relationship. As Emma refills his wine glass, Liam turns to Killian and punches him squarely in the shoulder. 

“Oi!” Killian cries. “What was that for?” 

“I can’t believe you just kissed her like that!” Liam exclaims. “What were you thinking?” 

Killian shrugs. “I was thinking I wanted to kiss her.” 

“You can’t just up and kiss the princess!” Liam sputters. 

“That’s what I was trying to tell myself,” says Killian. “I walked away cursing who she was and reminding myself I had to treat her appropriately, and then I thought but why? If she’d been the normal girl she was pretending to be, I’d have kissed her at the party. So I turned back and, well, you heard the rest.”

“I’m glad he did, too,” says Emma. “It saved me the trouble of hunting him down and kissing him myself. Didn’t help me sleep that night though.” She shoots Killian a saucy look which he returns in kind. 

“All right all right, bloody hell,” Liam grumbles. “Could you stop doing that, please?” 

“Doing what?” asks Emma innocently. 

“I’ve no idea what you mean, brother,” says Killian. 

Liam groans and lets his head fall into his hands. “Where’s that wine?” he says. 

~

When dinner is over Liam takes his leave, and Emma offers to walk with him as far as the door to the inner courtyard. They stroll slowly through the wide corridors and Liam waits, knowing she must have something she wishes to say. 

“I’m glad you finally know about us.” Emma glances up at him with a rather apologetic smile. “Killian’s been wanting to tell you for ages. He couldn’t say anything at first of course, because no one outside my family and our closest advisers knew I was at the university, but since we began living together he’s felt awful keeping it from you.” 

“I understand why he did, though,” Liam replies. “And I’m truly sorry he ever felt that he couldn’t confide in me.” They walk in silence for a few minutes. “Do, er—” he clears his throat. “Do your parents know?” 

“They do.” 

“And… how do they feel about it?” 

“They’re delighted,” says Emma gently, and Liam feels the tension in his shoulders recede. 

“Truly?” 

“Truly. It was a bit tricky at first, but they adore Killian and they’re happy I’ve chosen someone who will be a true partner to me when I take the throne. They know how essential that is.” 

They are approaching the doors to the courtyard, but Emma stops just inside them and turns to face him. “Liam,” she says. “May I call you that?” 

“Of course.” 

“Liam, I just want you to know that Killian—” Her voice breaks and she blinks rapidly, looking faintly embarrassed. “I—I just—I love him so much,” she chokes out as tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. “Oh, gods I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t apologise, lass.” Liam withdraws a crisp handkerchief from his uniform pocket and offers it to her. 

“Thank you.” She takes the handkerchief and dabs at her eyes. “I’ve never found it easy to talk about my feelings,” she says once she’s calmer, “and the stronger they are the harder it is. But I need you to know that Killian’s heart is safe with me. As I know mine is with him.” 

Liam nods, his chest too tight for the words he wishes he could say. He contents himself with a simple “Thank you.” 

Emma smiles and gives him his handkerchief back, squeezing his hand as he takes it. “You’re welcome,” she says. “Brother.” 

—

@ohmightydevviepuu​ @thisonesatellite​ @kmomof4​ @stahlop​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @katie-dub​ @teamhook​ @donteattheappleshook​ @xhookswenchx​ @snidgetsafan​

[idristardis]

CS Fic Formal: “I Found a Love”

A/N: At long lonnnnnng last, I can reveal that I am your CSFF Anon @branlovesouat !! I’m so very sorry that this gift is (literally) a month late, but between juggling two different jobs and my muse taking your prompts and deciding to write roughly thousands upon thousands of words, it...took a while to come together. I thank you infinitely for your patience - it has been wonderful getting to know you over this process - and I only hope that this fic lives up to your expectations and hopes!!

In addition to CS banter and sass, you asked for Ruby and Emma friendship and Belle and Killian friendship, romance that was paced at a “medium burn,” a story more driven by plot than atmosphere, and some way of incorporating Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect.” I hope I delivered on all of those fronts to your liking dear!! The fic’s title is taken from that song, and there are a couple of other ways I wove it into the fic (including the vibe of the next to the last scene) without making it a song-fic, per se.

I also want to give a huge thank you to the @csficformal mods for hosting such a wonderful event and for putting up with me when I kept asking if I could push my deadline back a bit because there were just more words spilling out of my brain. You guys rock!!

Now, without further ado...here are approximately 22K words of modern royalty Lt. Duckling AU. Hope you all enjoy!!

P.S. Rating is low-to-mid T for some swearin’ and some kissin’. Also, I borrowed one line from 10 Things I Hate About You - see if you can spot it. :D :D

“You’ll never guess the news I just received, little brother.”

Killian sighed, automatically muttering younger under his breath before pushing his half-finished lunch to the side and tossing down the report he’d been skimming through while he ate. Looking up, he met Liam’s gaze expectantly. His brother stood next to Killian’s chosen table in the corner of the officer’s mess with a grin on his face that – given his usually serious demeanor – bordered on disturbingly giddy.

When Liam dropped into the seat across from him, practically vibrating with pent-up energy, and yet didn’t immediately speak, Killian sighed. “You’re literally going to make me guess, aren’t you?”

Liam nodded, his grin growing impossibly wider. “Absolutely.”

“Why?” Killian groaned.

“Because this news is amazing, and it’s more fun to have you guess. It draws out the suspense,” Liam replied, leaning over towards Killian’s abandoned lunch and snagging a French fry off his plate. “Besides, you’ll never get it right, and then I’ll get to tell you anyway. Best of both worlds, really.”

“That makes almost no sense,” Killian said exasperatedly, reaching out and pulling his plate back towards him before Liam could pilfer any more of his food.

“Ah, but there’s a vast difference between something almost not making sense and actually not making sense,” Liam said, leveling his gaze on Killian before continuing. “Besides, you’re just stalling while you try to think of whatever invariably incorrect answer you’re going to come up with. So,” he rapped his knuckles on the tabletop for emphasis, “guess.”

Killian stared at Liam in silence for a long moment. He really was at a loss for what the mysterious news could be, but he stubbornly didn’t want to admit as much to his brother. Finally, just as he was about to give in and hazard a ridiculous – and almost certainly incorrect – guess just to get Liam to move the whole process along, Killian’s eye landed on the discarded report he’d been reading when his brother had arrived. The neatly typed date in the corner of the document triggered a realization and he chuckled as a flash of insight raced through him.

Suddenly, he knew.

In fact, it was so obvious he couldn’t believe he hadn’t put two and two together immediately.

Sitting up straighter, Killian regarded Liam with a wide smile of his own. “Alright, let’s see it then,” he said, holding his hand out expectantly.

“What?” Liam said, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“The list of new appointments to the Cadre,” Killian replied easily. “That is what you came here to tell me about, isn’t it?”

Astonishment, irritation, and frustrated resignation flickered across Liam’s face in quick succession before he slumped back in his chair. “Y’know, you are bloody infuriating sometimes. How did you do that?!”

“Once I remembered what day it was, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out what had you so fired up,” Killian said with a smirk. “There are only a few things in life that can get you that excited.”

“Oi! Don’t act like you aren’t just as eager,” Liam retorted, digging in the pocket of his uniform coat and pulling out a folded piece of paper and handing it to Killian. “You know as well as I do little brother that getting appointed to the Cadre can be career-making.”

Killian let the nickname slide this time, as he was too busy opening up the paper that could very well change his life. “Did you look yet?” he asked Liam, his eyes flicking upwards to meet his brother’s.

Liam nodded, his smile a bit sheepish. “Sorry, Kil. I just couldn’t wait. But why d’you think I was so damn eager to talk to you?”

Any response Killian was about to make died on his tongue as his eyes fell on the list of nine names marching in a tidy column down the left hand side of the paper. He’d only made it about halfway down when he spotted the names he’d been fervently hoping to see.

“Bloody hell.”

-/-

Misthaven Star-Herald

COMMANDING RESPECT: NINE ELITE OFFICERS SELECTED FOR APPOINTMENT TO CADRE 2018

By Sidney Glass

Star-Herald Royal Reporter

SPERO, MISTHAVEN, APRIL 30, 2018 – Reports from the palace today have confirmed what was long-suspected to be true: Queen Mary-Margaret and King David, in consultation with the Prime Minister and the most trusted members of their Privy Council, have at long last completed the selection process for Initiates to the newest Cadre.

The Cadre, an elite squadron of officers comprised of members from all branches of Misthaven’s military, is personally selected every three years by the King and Queen. The newly chosen members of the Cadre will arrive in the capital city of Spero next week, at which time they will enter into a rigorous training boot camp designed to ready them to serve both as personal guards to the entire royal family and emissaries of the country’s armed forces when they accompany the royal family abroad.

Candidates selected for this rarified group have proven themselves in a variety of ways. They must have graduated in the top third of their cadet class, possess an exemplary service record in their branch of the military, show an aptitude and inclination for officer training, be in peak physical condition, and conduct themselves with honor in their everyday service. Having exhibited extraordinary valor in combat scenarios is also taken into account, but is by no means mandatory.

In addition to boot camp, when each new Cadre is selected, one member of each service branch from the previous Cadre remains in place for the first year of the new Cadre’s term. They are intended to act as mentor and training officer for their service branch within the Cadre and may be called upon to perform Cadre functions from time to time – though their main purpose is to train the newly selected members of the squadron. During the first year of each Cadre’s tenure, the presence of these training officers cause the group to swell to twelve members rather than its typical nine.

The existence of the Cadre dates back almost to the founding of Misthaven. Though its exact origins have been lost to time and the great fire of 1860, which destroyed much of the contents of the Hall of Records for Misthaven’s military, anecdotal evidence traces its beginning back to the kingdom’s fledgling days. Formed to protect the leaders of the small, newly-formed kingdom against the outside forces of its larger and mightier neighbors, over time, the Cadre has also come to serve other purposes – these include fostering community, partnership, and mutual understanding between members of different service branches. Members often maintain close professional ties long after their Cadre years are over. These bonds help to strengthen Misthaven’s military in tangible and intangible ways.

Of course, the Cadre still adheres to its original purpose – providing the highest caliber of protective services to Misthaven’s royal family. This year, the twelve servicemen and women appointed to the Cadre are:

Royal Misthaven Army

Captain R. Locksley

Lieutenant B. French

Warrant Officer W. Scarlet

Lieutenant G. Humbert – training officer

 Royal Air Force of Misthaven

Wing Commander A. King

Flight Lieutenant E. Merlin

Flight Lieutenant M. Fa

Flight Lieutenant L. Dulac – training officer

 Misthaven Royal Navy

Commander L. Jones

Lieutenant K. Jones

Sub-lieutenant W. Smee

Lieutenant-Commander K. Nottingham – training officer

-/-

Emma sighed with relief as the back door of Two Wolves Tavern swung shut behind her, effectively muffling the noise from the street outside. Thankfully, this part of Spero was a good distance from the bars and clubs that lined the streets of the capital city’s small, yet bustling, nightclub district. Two Wolves would get busier as the night went on, but it would be nothing like the sort of chaos that could be found downtown.

The tavern was old – having been in the same family’s ownership for multiple generations – and the inside was a blend of cozy restaurant, warm and inviting bar, and a small space where those who were so inclined could dance. The wood paneling was dark and burnished to a shine, the lights low and soothing, and the furnishings were on the rustic, lived-in side. All of those elements combined to give the tavern itself an uncanny ability to project a sense of comfort and safety every time a person stepped through its doors.

It didn’t hurt that its owners – Elizabeth Lucas and her granddaughter Ruby – were friendly and yet fiercely protective of their clientele. Not to mention that they had been friends of Misthaven’s royal family since the current queen was a young girl. Privacy and discretion were as guaranteed at Two Wolves as they could ever be in a city as infamously gossip-riddled as Spero.

In short, it was perfect.

It was the ideal place for a princess to hide away from the world for a few hours, which was exactly what Emma was determined to do.

She straightened, pushing up from where she’d slumped against the now-closed door, and took a deep breath. Slipping inside the nearby ladies’ room, she took a moment to look at herself – truly look – in the mirror above the tiny sink. Beyond the crack running up one edge of the glass she saw a woman who, while appearing slightly tired, had an invigorated sparkle in her eyes. She loved her family and – most of the time – she loved the life she got to lead. But there were some occasions when the expectations and pressures of being a princess just got to be too much and she needed to get away.

Tonight is definitely one of those times, she thought to herself with a grimace. Especially if the Privy Council is going to be so ridiculously archaic–

Emma cut off her own line of thought with a shake of her head. The situation with the council was exactly what she’d been coming here to avoid. She was hardly about to ruin her own evening by thinking about it now. If she got going, she knew she’d only end up stewing about it for hours and that was not what she wanted out of tonight.

She glanced at herself in the mirror again, pushing a strand of auburn hair from her bobbed wig back behind her ear and straightening the square black frames on her glasses (a relic from her life before contacts). Happy with what she saw, she grinned widely at herself. She was under no illusions as to what would happen when her Cadre guards discovered her missing from the palace. No doubt they’d assume she was at Two Wolves and follow her here. It’s not like it was the first time she’d come here after all. Her parents were (relatively) at peace with her choice of “escape” location, and she always was careful enough to wear a different disguise each visit – though usually, she did bring her guards with her.

But, she’d reasoned with herself as she’d slipped out of the palace unseen, even if she hadn’t brought Humbert and Dunbroch with her, it’s not like Two Wolves wasn’t known as an off-duty Cadre hang out. Surely she’d be safe enough there – and she really needed out of the palace for just a night.

After fussing with the set of her wig a bit more, Emma was finally satisfied that she looked innocuous enough and left the ladies’ room. Entering the tavern’s main room, she immediately spotted Ruby behind the bar and moved to take a seat at the far end – the dark, weathered wooden bar-top curved around there to meet the wall, creating a cozy little nook where Emma hoped she wouldn’t be overly bothered.

Ruby finished with her current customer and headed in Emma’s direction. “Heya, so what can I get–“ the question died on Ruby’s lips as she caught sight of Emma. Narrowing her eyes and darting a furtive glance around the room, she hissed “Emma?!” almost under her breath. “That is you, isn’t it?”

Emma nodded, grinning back at the woman she’d come to consider a true friend over the last several years. “Yep,” she replied brightly. “Though I really do hope no one else will be able to figure it out so easily.”

Ruby shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said. “You look completely different with that hair. It was just…the glasses, I think. You’ve used them before with a different wig and they looked a bit familiar. But I’m probably the only one who would pick up on that.”

“Hopefully you’re right,” Emma sighed. “I really can’t deal with my cover being blown tonight.”

“Uh oh…that doesn’t sound good. Everything okay?”

“Not really.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Ruby asked, a concerned frown stealing across her face.

“Not really.”

Her friend laughed at that. “Understood,” she replied. “Let me get you something to ease your troubles then. What’ll it be?”

She ordered a glass of rum – something she’d picked up a fondness for a few years ago, much to her mother’s chagrin – and settled in, spending the next hour or so chatting with Ruby when the other woman didn’t need to take care of her other customers. She also got into a spirited, yet good-natured political debate with some of the local regulars – thankfully none of whom recognized her – pleased to find that she held her own even when the discussion delved into some of the more intricately nuanced topics.

This had been exactly what she’d needed tonight. A chance to get away and just be Emma, not a princess, not someone who had to weigh and consider each and every action against some grand standard of courtly behavior. Honestly, she loved her family, and she knew she was incredibly privileged to live the life she led – but there were times when it just felt like no one truly knew the real person she was underneath her title.

Emma just wanted to be seen.

No sooner had that thought crossed her mind than she became aware of a presence settling onto the barstool a couple of seats to her left. Ruby came over to drop off Emma’s second rum and take the newcomer’s order. Before she moved back towards the other end of the bar, she caught Emma’s eye and gave a slight nod in the direction of the stranger, a wicked grin curling her mouth.

When Ruby got that look, it usually spelled trouble – and as much as Emma might want to cut loose and spend a night free from the constraints of her royal duties, she still knew that there was a line that she simply could not cross.

At least not anymore, she thought. She might have been more reckless when she’d been younger, but she’d learned long ago – the hard way – that there were certain things, normal-people things, that simply weren’t in the cards for her.

Getting pulled into one of Ruby Lucas’ madcap adventures definitely qualified as one of those things.

She’d just made her mind up to take her drink over to a quiet table in the opposite corner of the tavern and leave the end of the bar in possession of the new arrival, but she made the mistake of looking in his direction as she moved to stand up.

Sitting next to her, with nothing but one empty barstool in between them, was – quite simply – the most unfairly attractive man Emma had ever seen in her life.

It’s like the universe must be laughing at me, she thought to herself grumpily. Dropping someone who looks like that in my path when there’s no way I can do anything about it. Or, at least, no way that I should.

He was dark-haired, with a slightly lighter scruff dusted along his sharp jawline. From where she sat, it wasn’t hard to discern his broad shoulders, leanly muscled arms, or narrowly tapering waist. His eyebrows seemed to dance expressively along his forehead when he turned to face her, and they hovered over what had to be the mostly unfairly blue pair of eyes Emma had ever seen.

“Lass?” the stranger asked softly. His voice bore the lilting accent typical of those from Misthaven’s southern coastal region. “Are you quite alright?”

Shit!

She must have been staring when he’d looked in her direction. Moving to pick up her drink and take a sip to distract herself, her hand fumbled slightly and the tumbler toppled over, sending rum rippling across the ancient bar-top.

“Dammit,” she muttered, before looking back up at him. “Oh, yeah…yes. I’m fine – just…”

“Here,” he offered, sliding over to sit on the barstool directly next to her and handing her his napkin to help mop up the spill. “You sure you’re alright?” he asked again, his voice filled with more concern than she would’ve thought possible considering they’d literally just met and she didn’t even know his name – and he couldn’t come to know hers.

Not her real one, at least.

She shrugged, looking away from him and concentrating on swiping at the alcohol that had finally stopped spreading and now lay in a thin sheen over the bar top. “Mostly,” she murmured. “I guess I’m just having one of those days, you know?”

He chuckled, and she glanced up to see an understanding grin work its way across his face as he nodded. “Aye, I can sympathize. I feel like I’ve been having one of those days for most of the past month.”

“Oh?” she asked, even as she mentally scolded herself for prolonging the conversation. She knew she should just cut things off – find a quick, polite way to excuse herself, pay up and say good night to Ruby, and make her way back to the palace. If she did that, maybe she’d even make it back before her Cadre guards made it here tonight. But she couldn’t seem to help herself – something about this stranger captivated her.

It wasn’t just his obviously good looks, either – he had a quiet earnestness about him. That, coupled with the fact that he hadn’t immediately tried to hit on her – at least not overtly – made her want to stay in his orbit at least a little bit longer.

“Mm,” he nodded, though Emma had almost forgotten she’d asked him a question. “I moved to the city at the start of the month for…a new position with a heavier workload. I knew it was going to be different, but let’s just say it’s been more of an adjustment than I was expecting.”

She noted the slight pause partway through the stranger’s answer, but when she caught his gaze, he was looking at her with nothing but sincerity. Emma had always had a sixth sense as to when people were being untruthful – her parents and brother always teasingly called it her “superpower,” but it had rarely steered her wrong. Her instincts about people were usually pretty spot on, and this guy, whoever he was, didn’t ring any alarm bells for her.

“That sounds like a lot to take on all at once,” she said sympathetically. “I hope it’s been worth it…” she trailed off, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

He caught on quickly and supplied his name at last. “Killian,” he said with another smile. “And yes, so far it has been…” he said, tilting his head in her direction, clearly waiting for her to reciprocate with her name.

“Anna,” she murmured, hoping if she lied softly it somehow wouldn’t feel as bad as she feared it would. It did though. Emma hated being lied to, and she really hated doing it to someone else – but she really didn’t see any other way to stay there and keep talking to Killian. Which, apparently, is something I really want to do, she realized suddenly.

“Anna,” he repeated, the syllables sounding lovely as they rolled off his tongue, yet making her stomach twist all the same with their falseness. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She smiled at that, small but genuine. “You too, Killian,” she said, only slightly surprised to discover how much she meant it.

With that, they fell into an easy conversation – or, at least, as easy a conversation as Emma could have with anyone who didn’t know her real identity. But unlike the political discussion she’d been having with the locals earlier in the evening, the longer she spent talking with Killian, the more she wished she could tell him who she was.

Just when she was thinking that she really had to find a way to extricate herself and sneak back home, marveling that she still hadn’t seen any sign of the Cadre, her luck ran out. Killian was in the middle of a rather absurdly charming story of some childhood shenanigans involving him, his older brother, and a stray dog they’d smuggled home and tried to hide from their parents – but just as he was reaching the heart of the story, Emma caught a flash of red hair over his left shoulder.

It could have been someone else – Lieutenant Dunbroch wasn’t the only person in Spero with bright red hair, not by a long shot – but considering the speed with which said hair’s owner was moving, and the taller figure that had slipped inside after her and lingered in the shadows near the front door, the odds were good that she and Lieutenant Humbert had finally caught up to her.

Keeping her attention on Killian, Emma held out her hand where he couldn’t see it and signaled for Lieutenant Dunbroch to stop. She knew the other woman would no doubt be extremely irritated, but she hoped that she would at least give Emma a moment to say goodbye to Killian without giving away her identity.

“-and then he licked Mum’s nose and cuddled right up to her and she just…melted,” Killian said, huffing out a laugh. “In the end, the joke was on Liam and me – that blasted dog loved her more’n either of us.”

Emma chuckled softly. “Adorable, but apparently fickle,” she teased, before signaling to Ruby to put all of her and Killian’s drinks on her ongoing tab and shifting to stand. She paused for a moment, unsure how to extricate herself smoothly – looking over at Lieutenant Dunbroch, she estimated that she had mere moments before her guard broke up the conversation. The other woman would never cause any scene that would attract more attention Emma’s way, but the Lieutenant would undoubtedly take a much blunter approach to ending Emma’s conversation with Killian than she’d prefer.

While she’d been lost in her thoughts, Killian’s gaze flicked over her, landing on her face. He seemed to notice that she was preparing to leave, and reached out to lay his hand over her free one where it still lay on the bar. “You’re leaving, lass?”

She returned his gaze, a feeling of true regret washing through her. It was something she’d not expected when she’d first met him, thinking him then to be just a handsome stranger – someone good to waste an hour in a bar with, but that’s all. But the conversation they’d fallen into over the course of the evening had shown her that there was much more to him than met the eye.

He was kind, smart, funny, and opinionated – and, she realized with a start, he was shockingly good at putting her at ease. Once they’d started talking, she’d barely given a thought to getting back to the palace or worrying about the Cadre catching up to her. She’d even forgotten about the matter that had originally driven her outside the palace walls that evening.

That’s dangerous, she thought. I can’t afford to be unfocused right now.

Not that Killian knew anything about that – not with the tale she’d spun him of being a scholarship student at the University of Spero, in the capital city from her home in the far northern reaches of the country. And not that he’ll get a chance to know, either – it’s not like I’ll ever see him again.

“Yes, uh…sorry, yeah. I have to go,” she murmured, sliding her fingers out from underneath his, a wave of longing washing over her as the heat of his hand leeched from hers. She ducked her head down and avoided his eyes, afraid of what she might find there, glancing instead at Lieutenant Dunbroch out of the corner of her eye. “I’ve got, um, an early morning tomorrow,” she said. It wasn’t a total lie – it was just that she would be spending yet another day in a rotation of royal duties, which she found beyond mind-numbing, rather than in academic arguments with some university professor, which is no doubt closer to the assumptions Killian must have been making about her plans for the following day.

“I understand, Anna,” he said with a refreshing sincerity. “In fact, I have a rather early one myself – didn’t realize it had gotten so late. It was just very easy to talk to you,” he said, biting his lip after the words escaped. Emma smiled to herself – his slightly flustered reaction was actually really adorable.

And that kind of thinking is even more dangerous.

Emma saw Lieutenant Dunbroch take a step in her direction and knew she had to do something now if she had any hope at all of salvaging a smooth exit. She stepped to the side, putting a bit more space in between her and where Killian sat. “I had a great time too,” she said honestly. “I just have to go-”

“Can I see you again?” he interjected, standing and taking a step forward into her space. She stiffened in surprise – wanting to say yes but knowing it would be playing with fire. Killian seemed to mistake her shock for disinterest though, as his face fell slightly and he started to backtrack. “Look, I’m sorry if I overstepped, I just thought that-”

“Yes,” she breathed. It seemed as though it was her turn to shock him, if the dazed smile spreading across his face were any indication.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she affirmed, feeling her own smile get bigger. “When?”

“Uhm,” He blinked for a moment, as if still startled that she’d agreed, which Emma found just as adorable as his earlier flustered state. “I hate to wait this long, but a week from tonight? Work is going to make the rest of this week kind of impossible, I’m afraid.”

Emma internally breathed a sigh of relief. A week would give her time to figure out exactly how she was going to get away with sneaking out of the palace again so soon after this adventure. “That’s okay. A week is perfect. I’ll meet you here? Maybe at seven?”

He nodded. “Sounds perfect, lass.”

“Great, I’ll see you then,” she flashed him a bright smile and turned away before she could say or do anything else impulsive, like kiss him goodbye or something. She thought she heard him call after her as she walked away, but by that point she was bypassing the spot where Lieutenant Dunbroch was waiting, the other woman falling into step behind her, and her attention shifted to planning out how to get out of the trouble she’d be in for slipping away from her guards for the evening.

Still, she thought, it was definitely worth it.

-/-

“Lass! Anna! I don’t have your number!” Killian called after the retreating figure of the woman who’d enchanted him since he’d sat down next to her earlier that evening. Unfortunately, she must not have heard him over the music and chatter of other patrons that filled the tavern because she kept on moving, never breaking stride.

The fleeting thought entered his head that maybe she hadn’t actually been serious when she’d agreed to see him again, and that maybe now she was just trying to put as much distance between them as possible. But he didn’t want to believe it – the connection between them that night had felt so easy, so natural, so real. He couldn’t believe that it had been one sided.

He sighed, sinking back down on his barstool and running a hand through his hair. There was nothing for it – he’d just have to show up at Two Wolves next week and hope that she’d be there. He’d hated having to ask her to wait that long, but in Cadre training, he and his fellow Initiates only received one night off each week – there was nothing else he could have done if he’d wanted to see her again. And he definitely did.

Resolving to put the uncertainty over whether he’d really see Anna again out of his mind and focus on his training for the next week, he moved to flag down the bartender so that he could pay and get back to base. She came over but waved him off when he tried to settle his bill. “Already taken care of,” she said with a wicked grin. “By your lady friend there,” she gestured to the seat where Anna had been with a flourish. “Thought you knew.”

Killian shook his head slowly, putting his wallet away as the brunette sauntered back down to the other end of the bar, not waiting for him to respond. He felt a grin pull at the corners of his mouth. Suddenly, it seemed like there was a much better chance that Anna would show up next week.

-/-

Emma fidgeted in her seat, twisting the hem of her sweater absently between her fingers as she tried – with little success – to pay attention to Elsa, her private secretary, as the other woman ran through the calendar of Emma’s upcoming public appearances and social obligations. Though she knew it was expected of her to absorb as much of this information as possible and engage in making decisions about how she would participate in each event, she just couldn’t seem to focus today.

If she were being honest, for the last three days it had been a struggle to concentrate on her royal duties – she found herself staring off into space more often than not, having an unusual amount of trouble banishing a certain pair of blue eyes and a deep, rich laugh from her memory.

It was ridiculous – she should never have gone to Two Wolves in the first place, and she certainly shouldn’t have gotten into such a deeply engaging conversation with someone she’d never met before, and she absolutely should not have agreed to see him again.

But…she had done all of those things.

Moreover, she was actually plotting ways to follow through on her promise to meet Killian again without arousing suspicion from her Cadre guards – or, worse, her family.

Thankfully, the guard detail changed every week, and Lieutenants Dunbroch and Humbert had already handed off to Lieutenant MacIntosh and Flight Lieutenant Dulac. Though the Cadre members of course informed each other routinely of any issues with their royal charges, Emma hoped that the change of guards would at least give her more of a chance to elude them when the time came. Surely, they wouldn’t expect her to sneak out two weeks in a row – whenever she’d had one of her “normal Emma” nights in the past, they had been spaced months and months apart.

She’d never dared to be so brazen before, and she wasn’t quite sure why she was risking it now.

There was just something about Killian she couldn’t shake.

More to the point, she didn’t want to.

Emma was pulled from her thoughts by the noise of a throat clearing, and from the tone of the sound, it wasn’t the first time. She looked up, a sheepish expression on her face, to see Elsa staring at her, one eyebrow arched inquisitively. “I’m sorry, your highness. Would you prefer to resume at another time?” Her words were proper and correct, but her tone was slightly pointed, as though there were something she wanted to say but was holding herself back.

It was a more appropriate tack for a friend to have taken, rather than an employee, but Emma never had been very good about keeping firm boundaries between herself and her staff. She’d always treated them more like friends and colleagues than employees, and encouraged them to do the same. (Out of public view, at least – her parents took a similar stance in private but of course royal propriety had to be observed in front of the masses).

“Oh…no,” she said, shaking her head in an attempt to dismiss the last of her wandering thoughts. “I know I drifted a bit there, but I promise I’m with you. Where were we?”

Elsa smiled sympathetically at her. “The ribbon cutting for the new equestrian center in Norton on Friday, followed by the christening of the Royal Navy’s new ship in Fair Isle Bay Saturday morning.” Emma sighed and, while she didn’t exactly roll her eyes, something of her displeasure must have shown in her expression because Elsa chuckled softly. “I know how you feel about these events, your highness. But you know that-”

“It’s all part of my duties,” Emma cut in. “Yes, I do. I just wish that sometimes those duties could include something more meaningful than standing around in a pretty dress and waving at the crowd as a ribbon is snipped or a bottle of champagne is flung against a ship. I want to do something with my life. What good is the power my position grants me if I can’t do anything useful with it?!”

Elsa looked at her like she didn’t quite know what to say. This was a conversation they’d had often enough since Elsa had become her private secretary, but they’d pretty much exhausted the topic long ago. Emma took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry,” she said, her tone softening. “None of this is your fault…I just. The Privy Council has been especially tiresome recently.”

“Ah,” Elsa’s expression morphed from slightly shocked into something much more understanding. “Minister Gold still harping on the same old things?”

Emma nodded, slumping down in her chair and leaning her head back against the overstuffed upholstery. “With a few new bits,” she replied. “He’s still very much of the opinion that my parents wasted both Misthaven’s time and resources by allowing me to go to college, let alone grad school, and that my efforts would have been far better spent courting the attentions of one of Europe’s eligible princelings. In the last council meeting, he actually said that if I were so bound and determined to make a contribution to Misthaven’s future, I ought to speed up the husband-hunt so that I could get down to the business of producing the next heir. He didn’t actually add the phrase ‘before you’re no longer of child-bearing years’ but the meaning was clearly implied.”

Elsa looked aghast. “He’s a pig,” she declared (triggering a surprised snort of laughter from Emma), before continuing. “Besides, you’re the next heir. Has he somehow forgotten that?”

“Oh no,” Emma replied, the edge in her tone belying the false brightness of her words. “That’s the fun new twist to his ravings. He’s putting a bill before the council promoting the revocation of the reformed succession laws. He’d have it so that he’d reduce my father’s standing due to his so-called ‘common’ birth status, and bump Leo up the chain – until and unless I had any male children.”

“But, but, but,” Elsa sputtered. “There’s just so much wrong with that, I don’t even know where to begin!”

“Trust me, I know,” Emma sighed as Elsa started to pace back and forth. “But I doubt that pointing out his logical flaws would slow Gold down.”

Elsa’s gaze snapped up to meet hers. “But your father isn’t of common birth! He was a Prince of Glowerhaven-”

“A title used only ceremonially for the past century, despite its connection to Glowerhaven’s ancient royal house,” Emma pointed out.

“And Leo’s eight! Even if Gold succeeded, your brother wouldn’t be of age for another thirteen years – what’s the country supposed to do in the meantime? Wait?!” Elsa was working herself up into a state the likes of which Emma had rarely seen from the usually cool and composed blonde. “These laws have been on the books for nearly thirty years! He cannot possibly think that he’ll get this out of the council, much less to the floor of the parliament.”

Emma laughed, but it was a short, dry sound. “No, not even he’s that crazy – but he’s plotting something. I just don’t know what.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is too obvious. You said it – it’s not something that will pass the council’s vote, and the parliament will never even see this bill. But before it’s all over, the news of his ideas will leak out and he’ll be able to create enough of a controversy that public opinion will be whipped up and debating it all for months. He then gets to back off and make his real play while everyone is distracted with the succession issue, even though that’s just white noise.”

Understanding dawned on Elsa’s face. “But you don’t know what it is he really wants,” she replied. It wasn’t a question.

“Not a clue,” Emma said, a hint of bitterness creeping into her voice. “But whatever it is, it won’t be good.”

-/-

All things considered, she really shouldn’t have gone back to Two Wolves the next week to meet Killian.

The situation with Minister Gold continued to be tense, and Emma’s parents hadn’t exactly been thrilled when her Cadre guards had reported her previous week’s adventure. But despite spending most of the week twisted with indecision over the matter, she found herself slipping out of the castle yet again the following Monday evening, heading for the stables.

Her auburn wig and glasses were tucked into a small satchel that bounced at her hip. She’d slip them on once she was behind the stable and before she scrambled over the wall separating the palace grounds from the quiet road that ran in one direction towards the forest and the other down into Spero.

She really shouldn’t have gone, but when she got to the tavern and caught sight of Killian’s face – he didn’t see her at first and she spied him scratching nervously behind his right ear before checking his watch and glancing around – she knew she’d made the right decision. The brilliant smile that bloomed across his features when he caught sight of her didn’t hurt either.

By the time the end of the evening rolled around, they’d spent several hours wandering hand in hand through a street carnival in the heart of downtown and sitting and talking over coffee and pastry at an out of the way café Killian had spotted. The conversation had flowed easily between them, as had the teasing and laughter, and every moment made Emma more and more certain she wanted to see him again, damn all the risks.

When he walked her back to the spot where they’d met earlier in the evening and pressed lingering kisses first to the ridge of her knuckles and then to the inside of her left wrist, she was absolutely sure of it.

Pressing up on her tiptoes and gripping his shoulder for balance, she leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Give me your phone.” He handed it over with a quirk of his eyebrow and she programmed her actual, private number into it and sent herself a text before she could think better of her actions. Brushing a whisper of a kiss along his jawline, she pressed the phone back into his hand and stepped back. “I had a great time, Killian.”

“Me too, lass,” he breathed, looking at her with a kind of intense wonder that made his eyes seem lit from within.

Emma had the sneaking suspicion she was looking at him in much the same way, but she also needed to take a literal and metaphorical breath – this was all rather a lot to process – and she really needed to get back to the palace before she was missed. (She was kind of marveling at the fact that her guard detail hadn’t caught up to her tonight – although she supposed it was because they’d moved around so much at the street fair that they’d been hard to find, especially if the Cadre would have put their focus on Two Wolves. Still, she wasn’t going to take her luck for granted – the last thing she needed was another lecture from this week’s detail about the perils of sneaking out).

“I’d better get going,” she murmured, glancing up to find him still gazing at her with that semi-awestruck expression. “But, uh, text me, yeah?”

He smiled slowly, and leaned closer, brushing a soft kiss against her cheek. “You can bet on it, love,” he whispered as he drew back.

Emma smiled all the way back to the palace.

Neither of them took any notice of the camera snapping photos from the shadowy corner across the street.

-/-

The sun shone brightly and the sky was an endless blue expanse, broken only rarely by the puffiest white clouds. A cool breeze blew inland off of the water, and off in the distance – perhaps on one of the public beaches further down the coast – several kites in an array of vibrant colors bobbed and wove their way through the air.

In short, it was a perfect day – made even more so by the warm weight of Anna’s head where it rested against his shoulder. They were sitting on a blanket on a grassy hill overlooking the bay, sharing the remains of a picnic lunch he’d brought. When he’d texted her earlier in the week to propose their next meeting (Or were these, officially, dates by this point? Killian knew what he wanted them to be, but still wasn’t completely sure of what Anna was thinking), he’d suggested doing something a bit different and had been thrilled when she’d seemed excited about a mini-break to the seaside.

He’d met her at the train station closest to Two Wolves at mid-morning and they’d spent the railway journey once again in companionable conversation – with the notable addition of a bit of hand-holding and, for the latter part of the ride, Killian’s arm slung round her shoulders. They’d played at sight-seeing as the Misthaven countryside had slipped by the windows – though, he noted, they were both fairly well versed with the route. It made sense for him, having spent most of the years of his naval training and service based in Fair Isle Bay, but he made a mental note to ask Anna later if she’d spent much time by the coast, given her northern upbringing.

They’d arrived at the coast just before noon, spending the first hour or so poking into the little shops up and down the boardwalk of one of the small villages not too far from the naval base. He knew he was taking a risk bringing her here – anyone from his old detail who was off-base on liberty could spot him. That wouldn’t please his Cadre training officer one bit, given that Cadre members weren’t meant to broadcast their status as such – it was one of the first things that was drilled into every Initiate during boot camp.

(It was part of the reason why the newspapers only published the Initiates’ rank, first initials, and last name when the new Cadre was announced – and didn’t use any photos. From the point they entered Cadre boot camp, new Initiates were meant to keep as low a profile as possible – bringing a date (if that is what this was) to the Royal Navy’s backyard was just tempting fate. But Killian had to show her the coast – it was so much a part of him, of who he was. He needed to share such an intrinsic part of him with this woman who was – with startling rapidity – coming to mean a great deal to him).

After having some ice cream at a quaint little place on the edge of the town – Anna’d bargained quite convincingly with him that they should get dessert before they had their lunch – Killian beckoned Anna to follow him up one of the public walking trails that snaked over the low hills separating the town from the beaches and the coastline proper.

They’d found a relatively flat spot with a brilliant view of the water that wasn’t too far off the path, but was sheltered enough for a bit of privacy, and had set about enjoying their lunch. Now, bellies full and conversation – for the moment – exhausted, they were simply enjoying the moment. Sitting together, enjoying the sunshine and the breeze. Every time the wind shifted in a particular direction, Killian smelled the enticing apple and cinnamon scent of Anna’s shampoo over the salt in the sea air. He curled his arm around her shoulders again and tugged her ever-so-slightly closer. She hummed in contentment and nestled ever further into him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

He wasn’t quite sure how this had happened – wasn’t even sure exactly what to call what they were doing – but Killian had never expected to find anyone like Anna when he’d gone to Spero for Cadre boot camp. She was passionate, brilliant, funny, and could argue politics with him until they both needed to catch their breath. She challenged him, and seemed to delight in their verbal sparring matches as much as he did – but that was far from all. When she spoke of her studies, and her desire to help those who were less fortunate in life, her compassion shone so brightly it nearly took Killian’s breath away.

Not to mention she was beautiful – her physical attributes were…captivating…and he couldn’t pretend they’d gone unnoticed – but her gently dimpled cheeks, alabaster skin, deep green eyes, and lustrous auburn hair meant less to him than the beauty he could see in her heart.

“I wish I could have this all the time,” she murmured, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

“Hmm?” Killian hummed, pulling himself out of his wandering thoughts and tilting his head so that he could look down at her.

She peered up at him, blinking slowly as if she’d been nearly on the brink of falling asleep on his shoulder. “This…this kind of day. It’s so peaceful, and calm…and just…real.”

He chuckled at her turn of phrase. “D’you have many days that aren’t real, then?”

She huffed out a dry laugh. “You’d be surprised,” she muttered. He waited for her to explain, and after a moment she shrugged. “It’s just…a lot of the time, I feel like I’m not fulfilling my…true purpose, I guess. Or, well…I’m following the path that was laid out for me, and I don’t really have a lot of input into how to make it a better path. It’s been like that for as long as I can remember. D’you know what I mean?”

Her words make him think of his own youth, and the choices – or lack thereof – that had been offered to him and Liam. Sitting up a little more fully, he looked away from her, out over the water, and began talking. “My Mum died when I was barely ten, Da left a year later – couldn’t hack tryin’ t’raise two boys on his own. Liam – my brother – worked and scraped and saved and did everything he could to give us a better chance-”

“Killian, you don’t have to-” Anna tried to cut in.

“Yeah, I do,” he said, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. “I want to.” He took a deep breath in and then let it out slowly. “He worked, he got into the Royal Naval Academy, and then when I was old enough, I followed him. I’d follow him anywhere – he saved me when our family fell apart – and I really have come to love the Navy. I love the sea, and the structure and purpose of the work is fulfilling…”

“But?” this time Anna prompted him when he trailed off.

“But,” he said, glancing back at her, smiling genuinely at the concern he saw on her face. “Much as I’ve come to adapt to it and find meaning in it, it wasn’t my own dream. It was really Liam’s. But it’s where I’ve found myself, and I’ve tried to make the most of it that I can – I’ve found ways to make that dream mine and I work hard at making it meaningful to me every day. I’ve found parts of it that I can latch on to and really connect with. Then, my finding purpose in it makes it possible to do something meaningful for others.”

“And does that work? Is it enough for you?” she asked him, a genuine curiosity flickering over her features.

He caught her gaze and held it earnestly. “I think so,” he said honestly. “Some days, I feel more connected, more purposeful, than others, if I’m being honest. But even on the days when I feel like I might be slacking off on the whole ‘fulfilling my maximum potential’ thing, I do feel like I’m making a positive difference for my country,” he ducked his head, feeling a flicker of embarrassment. “Sorry, that sounded a bit overly patriotic and rah-rah, I know.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head emphatically. “It makes a lot of sense. Thank you for sharing all that with me,” she said with an earnestness that made him smile softly at her.

“It was my pleasure, love,” he murmured. “I guess I’m just trying to say that even if you don’t have a lot of options in terms of choosing the actual direction your life is headed in right now, you still have the power to shape the path that lies ahead. You still have choices you can make and ways you can focus on the things that are important to you. You just have to be patient – pick your moments and your metaphorical battles and before you know it, you’ll have wrestled this challenge into submission and be on to conquer the next one.”

She chuckled wryly. “You really think so?”

“Aye,” He replied. “I know I’ve not known you long, Anna, but as it stands I think you’re brilliant, and believe you can accomplish anything you set your mind to. To hell with anyone who says you can’t.”

Her eyes flicked up to his and he was caught in the fiery determination he saw in her gaze. Before he could say anything else – in fact, before he’d really processed what was happening – she’d circled one arm further around his waist and her other hand had slid into the hair at the nape of his neck and she’d pulled him into a kiss that rivaled any he’d ever had in its sheer intensity.

Cliched as it might have sounded, time seemed to stop in that moment.

The muted sounds of the seashore – gulls crying in the distance, waves breaking on the beach far below them, the far off strains of another tourist’s radio playing what Killian was fairly sure was an Ed Sheeran song – melted away the instant Anna’s lips met his. His own arms wound around her back, pulling her closer until she was practically in his lap – a move that pulled a low moan from her that Killian felt as much as he heard it.

He turned his head, the tip of his nose pressing into the apple of her cheek as he deepened the kiss.  She mirrored him, parting her lips readily and making a happy little noise Killian swore he’d remember the rest of his life when his tongue darted inside and curled around her own. They spent endless minutes getting progressively lost in each other – hands wandering, breath stuttering, hips shifting restlessly – until Anna finally pulled back, a ragged chuckle tumbling from her lips as Killian instinctively followed her movements. “Wow,” she breathed.

“I heartily agree, love,” he mumbled, his eyes dropping shut as he leaned forward until his forehead rested against hers. “Not that I’m complaining in any way – but what brought that on?”

He could hear the smile in her voice when she replied. “You believed in me, Killian…Killian…Killian?”

“Killian!”

He sat bolt upright in his chair as his attention snapped back to the present moment and he realized Anna was nowhere to be seen and he wasn’t on a mini-holiday to the coast. Rather, he was in one of the Cadre’s briefing rooms and the person who’d been calling him – for quite some time judging by her slightly irritated yet concerned expression – was one of his fellow Initiates. “Lieutenant French…er, Belle,” he said, “I’m sorry. I must have been lost in thought.”

Belle just arched an amused eyebrow at him and moved past him to take the seat next to him. “I’ll say,” she replied dryly. “You were staring off into space when I came in – you’re just lucky the rest of the group is running late. Is everything alright?”

Killian nodded sheepishly. “Yes…more than, actually.” He hesitated for a moment, wondering if – without getting into the more personal details – he could share any of his happiness with Belle. Since the beginning of boot camp, they’d been paired together on several training exercises and instructional projects. Their training officers had indicated that they’d been paired because they had complimentary skill sets and aptitudes and would likely be detailed together within the Cadre once boot camp was complete – beyond that, though, Killian had grown genuinely fond of the diminutive yet fierce woman and as she seemed to feel the same about him, a warm friendship had sprung up between them. If he could tell anyone about Anna, he could tell Belle – Liam would likely warn him against getting “distracted” during his training, and what he needed right now was a listening ear, not his brother’s well-meaning but sometimes rigid stance on the rules. “I met someone a couple of weeks ago…”

“Oh really?” she asked, a note of interest coloring her voice. “Must be a really special someone – you were completely somewhere else when I walked in here.”

“She is,” he nodded, unable to keep the smile off his face even though he felt slightly like a teenager talking about his first crush. “I’ve seen her on every off day we’ve had so far, and I can’t stop thinking about her-”

“Clearly,” Belle interjected with a laugh.

“Ha ha…I’m serious, Belle. I feel like I’ve been knocked off my feet by her. I never expected this, much less that it would happen during boot camp – it’s getting harder and harder not to tell her what I really do. I know I can’t,” he rushed to say when Belle looked like she wanted to remind him of the Cadre’s need for secrecy. “But I don’t know how much longer I can go on seeing her and not tell her – it’s a big thing to keep hidden.”

“And you definitely want to keep seeing her?” Belle asked.

Killian shot her a look. “Clearly. I just don’t know what to do.”

“Well, you might want to-” Belle began, but was cut off when the rest of their Initiate class began to file into the room, followed by Flight Lieutenant Dulac. She looked over at Killian, chagrined. Later, she mouthed and he nodded.

“Good morning Initiates,” Lieutenant Dulac’s booming voice greeted them. “Thank you all for being so punctual this morning,” he paused to stare pointedly in the direction of another Initiate, Warrant Officer Scarlet, who had barely made it through the door before the class had begun. “Welcome to the beginning of your Surveillance and Reconnaissance unit.”

Killian forced himself to stop thinking about anything but the class, pushing both Anna and his conversation with Belle to the back of his mind as he listened closely to Dulac’s lecture. Of all the officers who were guiding the Initiates’ training, Killian had quickly grown to admire Dulac the most and had gotten a great deal out of any session he led.

“…now, as we see here,” Dulac clicked through several slides in the PowerPoint presentation he was using for this class session until he found the one he wanted, “low-light photography can be a challenge even in this digital age. This photograph,” he gestured to the slide up on the screen, “was taken last week and though you can see Princess Emma quite clearly under the streetlight at the left of the image, her companion is unfortunately cast in shadow and it’s not possible to make out enough of his features for facial rec.”

“Not even with enhancement, sir?” one of the other Initiates – Locksley, an army Captain Killian had come to like and respect – asked from the far corner of the room.

Dulac shook his head. “No. The officer doing the recon work here was, by necessity, too far away to get a shot that would give us the right angle.”

“Well he shoulda got closer then, shouldn’t he?” this was from Scarlet, before Locksley elbowed him in an attempt to keep him quiet.

Dulac kept his cool. “Officer Scarlet, while it would have been ideal to get closer, one also must think about whether one has adequate cover to do so – it does no good to get the right photo and reveal yourself in the process. Showing that you are shadowing one of the royal family too closely tips off onlookers to the fact that they are the royal family, which immediately increases the dangers – especially in situations like this where the princess has ventured out incognito.”

Killian’s head snapped around at that, and, for this first time, he took a good look at the photo in Lieutenant Dulac’s slide – and all the breath seemed to rush from his body.

He recognized that street, and the tavern in the background.

Moreover, he recognized the man that Dulac said couldn’t be identified. Killian could identify him easily and immediately – because he was the man.

But what didn’t make sense was Dulac’s statement that this was a photo of Princess Emma, because this photo clearly showed his Anna kissing a mystery man on the cheek – you, his brain helpfully supplied – outside Two Wolves a week ago. For a moment, Killian simply stared at the photo, his brain refusing to fully process the information.

When the truth finally clicked in, he realized that he had far bigger problems than having to keep his place in the Cadre a secret from the woman he’d rapidly been falling for – she’d been keeping a far bigger secret of her own.

-/-

“Emma, a word,” her mother’s voice – soft but commanding – came from the other end of the corridor just as Emma was stepping out of her bedroom. She’d not seen her mother standing there and jumped at the unexpected sound of the older woman’s voice.

“God, Mom, don’t do that,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest. “You nearly scared me to death.”

“I’m sorry,” the queen said, her tone softening a fraction. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but I do need you to come with me.” Without further explanation, she turned on her heel and began walking towards her private offices.

Emma fell into step behind her, as she knew was expected, hurrying to catch up before her mother got too far ahead. “Is everything alright, Mom?” she asked after a few moments of walking in a somewhat stilted silence that was far from their usual easy camaraderie.

Her mother didn’t answer immediately, waiting instead until they’d reached her private offices and slipped inside. The queen shut the door behind them and moved over to her desk before responding. When she did, her words were not at all what Emma was expecting, and they caused the bottom to drop out of her stomach.

“Have you been to Two Wolves recently?” her mother asked, shuffling through a few papers on her desk before looking up at her expectantly.

Emma considered – for the briefest of moments – denying it outright, saying that it must have been someone who looked uncannily like her. But she knew that that wouldn’t hold up – particularly if, as it seemed, Queen Mary-Margaret already knew the answer to the question she was asking. Sinking down into one of the plush guest chairs that were placed in front of the desk, Emma nodded. “Yeah…a couple of times,” she muttered. “But you and Dad have never had a problem with it before.”

Her mother sighed. “We don’t have a problem with it now…not exactly. It’s just…it’s a little careless, Emma. The timing is not ideal.”

She sat up straighter in the chair, a wave of indignance flowing over her. She knew that perhaps she hadn’t made the best choice given the political climate of late – and maybe you’re feeling a bit defensive about that, she thought to herself – but she didn’t think it warranted her mother treating her quite so much like a child. “It’s not like I went out clubbing and got blitzed – Two Wolves is just about the safest place I could go, Mom. That’s been true since you were going there when you were my age,” she finished, crossing her arms over her chest and staring up at her mother with determination and a small touch of defiance. She hoped her mother didn’t have any further information about her evenings at the tavern – but just in case, deflecting her attention couldn’t hurt.

“My youthful indiscretions, such as they may be, aren’t the issue right now Emma,” her mother replied calmly, taking a seat behind her desk and sorting through yet another pile of papers until she pulled out a slim manila folder. “You know that this kind of behavior is against protocol – and while your father and I might have been inclined to turn a blind eye in the past-”

“So did Grandma, thankfully, or you might not have met Dad and Leo and I wouldn’t be here right now,” Emma cut in, refusing to feel bad about taking just a small bit of precious time for herself when her mother had done exactly the same thing when she was young.

“Be that as it may,” her mother carried on almost as if Emma hadn’t spoken. “We’ve got to enforce every bit of protocol right now. With Minister Gold picking at us and scrutinizing every choice the monarchy makes we can’t afford to give him any more ammunition for his schemes. So for a while, I am going to need you to put a halt to this kind of adventure,” she said briskly, opening the folder and pushing it across the desk towards Emma. “And, whoever this may be,” she gestured in the direction of the contents of the folder, “it would be best if you ended it for the time being…at least.”

The sinking feeling that had invaded Emma’s stomach at the beginning of the conversation only got worse – it now felt as though her heart were somehow simultaneously in her throat and on the floor somewhere near her shoes. Even before she looked where her mother had pointed, she had a good idea of what she’d see.

Closing her eyes in resignation, she sighed. It was completely stupid of me to think I wasn’t followed that second night. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. Even as she reprimanded herself for not suspecting her Cadre guards had caught up and surveilled her on her return trip to the tavern, she bristled at the constraints her royal duties were once again placing on her.

(But all the same, she repeatedly and silently thanked whatever divine influence had kept them hidden – both from photographers and that week’s Cadre detail – when they’d gone to Fair Isle Bay).

All I’d wanted was something normal. Something just for me. Just for once. Looks like I was just fooling myself – God, I’m an idiot. How did I ever think this was going to work?

As she opened her eyes, they landed on a photo in the manila folder – the image was dark, and a bit blurry. If she had to guess, she’d say Lieutenant MacIntosh was the photographer – his handiwork was always a bit unfocused when he took long distance shots at night – but whoever had taken them, the photo was clear enough to show her pressing a kiss to Killian’s cheek before bidding him good night.

The only saving grace was that it was nigh on impossible to tell who Killian was, given the angle and distance of the shot. Even if her chances of seeing him were imploding with every minute that went by, she didn’t want him to get drawn into a messy background investigation by the Cadre for getting so close to her or, worse, pulled into the public eye by Misthaven’s rather voracious paparazzi.

“Emma?” her mother prompted, and she realized that she’d been silently staring at the photo for longer than was probably reasonable. She looked up at her mother, catching the older woman’s eye – her mother’s regal mask slipped for a moment and a flicker of understanding and empathy crossed her face. She smiled softly. “Believe it or not, I do understand the predicament I can sense that you find yourself in right now…but you need to end it. Now. Or at least find a way to pause things until Gold has settled down and backed off. Understood?”

Emma took one more lingering glance at the photo, thoughts of bright sun, warm breezes, and comforting embraces running through her mind. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and nodded. “Understood.”

-/-

“You did what?!” Belle’s incredulous question echoed down the long corridor they’d found themselves in after their class had finished. They were tucked at the end, in an alcove, but her voice had risen enough that if someone were passing by, they’d be overheard. He didn’t immediately respond, simply looked at her for a moment, until she seemed to understand that she hadn’t misheard him. Her eyes widened until they looked impossibly large. “Killian, please tell me you’re joking.”

“Sshhhh,” he hissed, making a keep it down gesture with his hands. “In my defense, I didn’t know.”

Belle laughed – it was a sharp sound that seemed to burst from her almost involuntarily. “How could you not know?!”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, not wanting to lash out at one of the only people he felt he could confide in about his predicament. Besides, he understood. If he were in Belle’s position, he’d probably be reacting the same way to hearing this kind of news. “I’ve only been out with her a few times, and she was wearing a bloody disguise – if you’re not actively expecting someone to be doing something like that, it’s a little hard to catch,” he retorted, not entirely successful at keeping the self-loathing edge out of his tone.

The truth of it was, he realized as he spoke, he’d been very free with his heart and he’d not known the woman he’d thought was Anna for very long. Or very well, apparently, he thought with a touch of bitterness. He was angry at the princess for the deception – and at himself for not seeing through it. Observation and deduction were part of his training – he was supposed to be good at them. What kind of Cadre guard would he make if he got fooled as easily as this?

It’s not the same thing, and you know it, his inner voice tried to reason with him. You weren’t on duty, you were just spending time with someone you cared about and who you thought cared about you. You weren’t expected to be on your guard. He didn’t know if he believed his own reasoning, telling himself that a better officer would always be on his guard – but before he could fall further down the rabbit hole of his own internal debate, he realized that Belle was asking him a question.

“I can see your point,” she said, her tone gentling a bit, though Killian felt he didn’t truly deserve her kindness. “But what are you going to do now that you do know?”

He shook his head and exhaled harshly. “I don’t bloody well know, do I?”

Just then, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it at first, but it continued to go off, buzzing three more times in quick succession. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen and was startled to see four texts from Anna’s number. He let out a noise of surprise and showed Belle the phone. “Interesting timing,” she murmured. When he made no move to open them, she pointed at the phone. “Aren’t you going to read them? They might help you decide what to do.”

He felt like he was moving underwater as he nodded, everything slowing down as he swiped his thumb across the screen and brought up the message string he’d been sharing with Anna. Emma, he mentally corrected. The princess.

Killian, I’m so sorry to be doing this at all, but especially in a text.

I got news very suddenly, a family emergency – I have to go up north for a while.

I don’t know when, or if, I’ll be able to come back. I’ve enjoyed our time together more than you will ever know, but it’s not fair to ask you to wait around for me.

I’ll treasure these few weeks forever…goodbye, Killian.

He stared at his phone, disbelieving this latest turn of events, for so long that Belle finally jerked him back to the present moment with a gentle shove to the shoulder. “Well?” she asked expectantly.

“Here,” he mumbled, thrusting the phone into her hand so she could read the messages for herself. He scrubbed both hands over his face and back into his hair, trying to think of anything but the way that the princess’ fingers had felt as they’d traced the back of his neck, or the warmth of her as her mouth had opened easily under his. He wanted to hold onto the anger he’d felt at her deception, but her texts had reeked of sadness and he couldn’t say he didn’t feel the same.

Despite all the things they’d kept from each other, what they’d felt for each other was real. They’d each seen the truth of the other’s heart underneath everything else – he was sure of it. But he didn’t have any idea what to do about it now. He just felt hollow and tired.

“Well,” Belle said when she finished reading the messages. “I guess that answers that.”

“Yeah, I guess it does,” he agreed.

“It still sucks though,” she said, slipping her arm through his and pulling him down the corridor in the direction of the mess hall. He’d been so engrossed in his revelation and subsequent meltdown he’d not realized they’d almost missed their chance at lunch.

“Yeah, it really does.”

-/-

In the week that had passed since Emma had, effectively, put an end to things with Killian via text, she’d been fairly miserable – and that had been putting it mildly.

The depth of her disappointment had taken her by surprise – she’d only gone on a few dates with him, after all. They’d barely begun to be something, but so abruptly losing even the possibility of figuring out what they could have been still hurt.

Even if you have no idea if you could have made it work once you’d revealed who you were, it still would have been nice to have the chance to figure that out on your own, she thought to herself bitterly. She was angry with Minister Gold for his ridiculous political intrigues and irritated with her mother for bowing – even temporarily – to the pressure he was putting on the monarchy. But most of all, she was upset with herself for putting herself in this position in the first place. She knew better than anyone the pitfalls of opening your heart up too soon.

This isn’t like that, she chastised herself. Killian didn’t turn out to be some foreign diplomat’s secretly skeezy son only looking for a good time with ‘rebellious royalty,’ and he isn’t a self-important Duke who just wanted to use my title to advance his own social status.

As she thought of her unfortunate prior romances – if you could have even called them that – she continued to argue with herself about whether trusting Killian, and starting to have real feelings for him, had been a mistake.

Even if it wasn’t, it doesn’t matter, she realized. It’s not like you’re ever likely to see him again.

After a couple of days of wandering around the palace, thinking over the same internal argument again and again, she decided that the best thing she could possibly do would be to get away for a little while. She decided to go to Glowerhaven. It was north of Misthaven – at least then your messages to Killian would be less of a lie, she thought – and spend a few days at her grandmother Ruth’s country estate. It would do her some good to get away from the city, and she always enjoyed the chance to spend some time with her grandmother in the place where her father had grown up. If anyone could put her current predicament into perspective and give her some much needed good advice, her grandmother would be able to.

With one last thought spared for what might have been, she retreated to her rooms to call her grandmother and pack.

-/-

Killian didn’t think he’d ever been so nervous in his life.

Even when he’d been waiting to find out if he’d gotten into the Naval Academy and if he’d be able to join Liam in the service he’d not been this twisted up inside.

But when the morning of the Cadre Installation Ceremony arrived, and there had been no further word from the Princess after her texts ending the whatever it was that had been brewing between them, Killian realized that he’d stalled for as long as he possibly could on deciding how to handle the little matter of having secretly dated the Crown Princess for a few weeks.

(And snogged the hell out of her on a hillside in Fair Isle Bay, but no one else would learn about that anytime soon – or ever – if he could help it).

When he’d had the realization in the middle of surveillance training that his mysterious “Anna” was actually Princess Emma, his first impulse had been to confess absolutely everything to the officer in command of all Initiates and throw himself on the mercy of his superiors. Belle, however, had convinced him that he should keep quiet about it – at least for the time being. He cast his memory back over the rest of the conversation they’d had that day the week before when everything had gone sideways.

“Listen,” she’d said, a determined look crossing her face. “As far as we know, the only three people who know about this are you, me, and the Princess, correct?”

“Yeah,” Killian nodded, his shoulders slumping as the weight of everything that he’d done settled over him – even though he’d been unaware of “Anna’s” real identity, he still felt a responsibility for what had happened. He should have been more aware, been more on his guard – despite Belle’s protestations to the contrary. “Well, and the entire corps of Cadre Initiates who saw Lieutenant Dulac’s presentation just now,” he continued, a weary resignation creeping into his tone.

“Ah ah ah, no,” Belle said, pointing her finger in his direction with each syllable she uttered. “They know the Princess was with someone – not that it was you.”

“I fail to see how that’s going to help me in the long run,” he retorted. “Despite what Dulac thinks, someone will probably be able to clean up that image enough for facial rec, and even if not, Emma knows and she’s going to have me booted out of the Cadre – if not out of the military altogether – the next instant she lays eyes on me. You want to be entertained by the sight of me being hauled away by the palace guards? Just wait for the Cadre Installation and you’ll see.”

Belle shook her head decisively before he’d even finished speaking. “I don’t think so, Killian. I think you’re reading the situation the wrong way round – she’s not going to want to say anything about it any more than you do.”

Killian wasn’t sure about that – he wasn’t sure about much of anything at the moment – but the stress of the situation was making him blank out on finding a solution, and he trusted Belle. He nodded for her to continue. “Why d’you think that?” he asked, a seed of optimism cautiously taking root in his gut. Belle seemed so certain of everything – he could only hope that that confidence came from some viable insight into how to fix this mess.

She sighed, moving off to his side so that another group of Cadre Initiates could pass by them as they made their way out of the mess hall. She waited until they were out of earshot to turn back to him, diving right back into their conversation as though there had never been a pause. “Because,” she said firmly, “if she did anything to get you kicked out of the Cadre, she’d have to attest to why…and she’s not going to want to admit that she was sneaking out of the palace to run around with a strange man-”

“Oi!”

“-in downtown Spero all the while intentionally trying to evade her guard detail. It would be difficult enough for her to admit to that kind of recklessness under any circumstances, but now? With Minister Gold scrutinizing everything the royal family’s doing – trying to make some case for changing the order of succession or some other nonsense – she’s really going to be following protocol to the letter, and she’s going to want to give off the appearance that she’s always done just exactly that. So…do you see why she wouldn’t say anything about you to anyone?”

After a moment of thought, Killian nodded slowly. It was a slim chance, but it was better than nothing – admitting his entanglement with the Princess would be a sure way to get kicked out of the Cadre, and losing the chance to be part of this elite group was simply not an option. Saying nothing and hoping that Belle’s assessment of the Princess’ mindset was correct was a bit dicey – it didn’t give him the chance to get out ahead of the story if it ever did come out – but he couldn’t see any other way to proceed. At least this way, he’d have a chance of things working out in his favor – a small one, to be sure, but that was better than nothing.

Killian snapped his attention back to the present when a trumpet flourish sounded and the heavy doors at the opposite end of the throne room were pulled open. Queen Mary-Margaret and King David entered, following a few steps behind by Princess Emma. They proceeded to the raised dais at the front of the room and stood facing the row of soldiers and sailors who awaited them – the nine new Cadre Initiates and three training officers – all in their dress uniforms, pressed and polished to a shine.

He knew the precise moment during the installation ceremony when the Princess became aware of him. Her gaze landed on him while her mother was giving a speech of welcome to the group and when their eyes caught, Emma’s widened noticeably and her entire posture went rigid. She looked away almost immediately, and though Killian kept his gaze on her for quite some time – until he was forced to turn his attentions back to the ceremony for their individual inductions into the Cadre – she never looked at him again.

He’d known that this was the likely outcome – in fact, it pointed to Belle’s being right about how the Princess would react to the entire situation – and yet his heart sank. This should have been one of the best days of his career, and, to tell the truth, he was still ecstatic about officially joining the Cadre – but what should have been a purely happy day now had something of a cloud hanging over it. He didn’t know until precisely that moment how much he’d still been hoping that she’d look at him the way she had that day in Fair Isle Bay. The fact that she couldn’t bear to look at him at all made him feel like a knife was twisting in his gut.

If this was how it was going to be, it was going to be a long three years.

-/-

For the next week, they barely saw each other.

After the installation ceremony, Emma’s first guard detail had been a friendly, sandy-haired army captain named Robin Locksley and a quieter, more reserved air force flight lieutenant named Mulan Fa. Emma had breathed an internal sigh of relief when Killian hadn’t been immediately assigned to her detail, though an almost equal pang of disappointment had twisted in her gut.

Make up your mind, Emma – you either want to see him or you don’t. Either you’re angry at him for hiding who he was or you understand since you did the same thing. You miss him or you can’t deal with being around him. Pick a damn feeling and at least try to stick to it, she chastised herself. All this emotional back and forth isn’t getting you anywhere productive, and it’s absolutely exhausting.

But despite giving herself several rather stern pep talks over the course of the past week, she hadn’t been able to figure out what to do about this thing with Killian other than just make herself scarce and avoid him whenever possible. Even though he wasn’t on her personal detail, she still did see other members of the Cadre from time to time in the palace – she simply learned which detail he was on and crossed paths with it as little as possible.

Very mature, Emma. Real leadership material you are if you can’t even take charge of your own love live, barely existent though it is.

Rolling her eyes at her own inner monologue, she stepped out from underneath one of the porticos that ringed a small courtyard on the residence wing of the palace. It was one of her favorite places in the entire royal dwelling because of the fountain and the small row of rosebushes tucked at one end of the neatly trimmed green lawn. They were abloom with a pale pink variety of rose that had some complicated Latin name, but that the people of Misthaven had long ago dubbed “the Middlemist.” They were Emma’s favorite flower, and this spot – part of the palace, but still semi-secluded – was often the place where she’d go to get time alone when she needed to think.

This morning, she was supposed to meet her new detail – since the guard details changed weekly – and then head out for her daily morning run in the royal park. It was something she was really looking forward to – her morning exercise routine was usually the only time she got during the day where she could fully clear her head. Her detail was usually already there when she came to the courtyard, so she was more than a bit surprised not to see anyone when she arrived there that morning.

Checking her watch, she saw that it was only a few minutes past the time when she was meant to meet them, and decided to stretch while she waited. If they weren’t here by the time she finished, she’d have to go and let someone know, but with the new Cadre so recently installed, she didn’t want to have to get anyone in trouble for something so insignificant.

After a few quiet moments of stretching and planning her route for that morning’s run, she heard footsteps and muffled voices at the other end of the portico. She straightened up and glanced in the direction of the noise, and it suddenly became crystal clear why her guard detail had been late that morning.

A petite, dark-haired woman who Emma was fairly sure was an army lieutenant – though she was a bit fuzzy on the woman’s name – stood next to one of the portico’s columns, dressed in running clothes and doing her own stretches. She was – very pointedly – not looking at the other member of Emma’s new detail for the week, but Emma herself couldn’t look away.

It was Killian.

Of course it was Killian.

Because, clearly, the universe hated her and she couldn’t catch a break.

They stood there for a moment, an awkward silence billowing between them, before Emma shook her head as if to clear it. Addressing them both, but looking more directly at the woman, Emma said the first thing that came into her mind. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured, “but can you remind me of your name, please? The installation ceremony was a bit of a blur.”

The other woman smiled softly and bobbed her head in a brief nod. “Understood, your highness. Lieutenant Belle French, Royal Misthaven Army, and this,” she gestured to Killian, “is Lieutenant Killian Jones, Misthaven Royal Navy.” Emma’s eyes flicked over to Killian and he nodded at her as well, but unlike when Belle had done it, the motion seemed stiff and slow. He continued to gaze at her intently – the blue of his eyes boring into hers as though he wanted to say something to her, but didn’t quite know the right words to use.

I know exactly how you feel, she thought grimly.

“Are you ready, your highness?” Belle asked, pointing towards the end of the courtyard nearest to the exit they would need to take to get outside of the palace walls and into the royal park.

“Um, yeah…yes, I guess,” Emma replied, before a thought occurred to her. “But why are you both dressed like that?” she pointed towards the workout gear that Belle and Killian were both sporting. “Usually, I run and my detail follows a little bit behind in a golf cart.”

Belle and Killian looked at each other for a moment, before Killian turned back to her, his face serious. “We know…your highness,” he said, and hearing his voice directed at her for the first time in weeks caused a traitorous swooping sensation to spring to life in Emma’s stomach. She tried to tamp it down as she listened to what he was saying. “But Lieutenant French and I thought it might be beneficial to try something a bit different.”

He paused expectantly, and she nodded for him to continue.

“Well, we think we should run with you your highness. One of us out in front and one just behind – it keeps us closer to you, should any threat surface, and lets us respond more quickly. We’ll have means of contacting the rest of the Cadre should there be a need, and, of course, we’ll be armed.”

It made perfect sense – though none of Emma’s previous details had ever taken the time or initiative to think of it. They’d always just used the cart and carried on with the task exactly as it had been done before. She thought about it carefully for a moment. On the one hand, it would be very awkward to go running with Killian (and Belle – her mind supplied helpfully – which could make things even more awkward) after everything that had happened – on the other, if she were being honest, she missed him. Besides, the idea made too much sense to disagree with.

Nodding, she turned and headed for the exit Belle had previously indicated. “Sounds fine to me,” she tossed back over her shoulder in an attempt to keep her inner turmoil over the entire exchange concealed – now is not the time to deal with what happened between us, she reminded herself. She moved quickly, itching to just be outside and underway. “Just try to keep up, okay? I like a certain pace.”

-/-

The first part of the run sped by in uneventful silence.

Belle – the traitor, Killian thought mutinously – had taken the advance position. Her discreet, grey and black patterned running outfit was visible about ten yards ahead of where the princess was keeping a steady, but not punishing, speed. He was close behind the princess, only about three feet back, and he’d been making a valiant effort not to let his eyes skim down to where her leggings clung sinfully to her trim form. It was extremely difficult – in no small part because he remembered what it felt like to hold her, and to have her lithe hips pressed into his as she maneuvered herself closer and urged him to wrap his arms around her more tightly – but instead, he watched her sleek ponytail swing back and forth for a few strides before tearing his attention away to scan the countryside. Nothing seemed amiss, but one could never be too careful – that’s literally why he and Belle were present.

After roughly twenty minutes, though, the princess broke the quiet hush that had fallen between them. Though she was just far enough ahead of him, and had spoken softly enough, that he had a bit of trouble making out what she’d said.

“Sorry, what?” he asked, finally tearing his gaze away from scrutinizing the expanse of low, rolling hills that faded off to their right and speeding up slightly to fall into step beside her.

After a brief pause during which the princess continued to stare straight ahead and Killian began to think he’d hallucinated her ever speaking to him, she repeated herself. “I’d imagine you have questions,” she said, her tone surprisingly matter-of-fact given the situation they’d found themselves in, and he couldn’t help but allow a snort of surprise to escape him.

“I might,” he replied swiftly, trying to keep his tone light, though he felt a bit taken aback that she was actually addressing – even obliquely – what had passed between them over the last several weeks.

“Well, go ahead and ask, then,” she said, a touch of tartness creeping into her voice. “I can feel you staring at the back of my head as we’ve been running – it’s incredibly distracting.”

They continued for the space of a couple of heartbeats in near total silence before he found his voice. She’s giving you an opening – you might not get another one, and you have to know, he told himself while looking off to the other side of the path to examine the area for any unexpected threats. Taking a deep breath, he decided to just start with the thing he was most curious about. “Did you know I was in the Cadre? Did you know who I was?”

He was watching her carefully when she responded. The shake of her head was almost immediate. “No,” she replied, her breaths coming a bit faster as they picked up their pace a bit. “My mother and father always pick the new Cadre Initiates, in consultation with the Privy Council only. The full names aren’t shared with anyone in the palace, not even me, until the installation ceremony.”

Killian thought over the newspaper article that had come out at the start of training, and what he knew of the Cadre’s privacy policy in relation to the general public. It made sense, he just was a bit surprised that the same thing went on inside the palace walls. “I see,” he murmured, pondering what that might imply about the princess’ actions towards him.

“Yeah,” she said, more than a hint of bitterness in her voice. “It’s tradition that only the King, Queen, and council may choose – just another case of clinging to the old ways even though it’s the twenty-first century.”

He couldn’t help it – he chuckled a bit at that. Her fire now reminding him of when he’d thought she was Anna and that day at Fair Isle Bay – her desperation to find her own way, and the intense way she’d looked at him when he’d told her he’d believed in her, were being echoed in the here and now. It was disconcerting, to say the least, to realize that maybe there was some of that spark still between them even though their circumstances had changed so radically since they’d last had time together one on one.

But she seemed to take his laughter the wrong way, looking at him sharply and biting out a question of her own. “How about you? Did you know who I was? Were you thinking that you were so smart, seeing past my disguise and having a bit of fun with the princess when no one else knew?”

Killian felt as if the breath had been knocked from him, but was opening his mouth to answer – though, truth be told, he wasn’t sure what he would have said – when she leveled yet another pointed question at him.

“And if you did know, were you going to…” here she seemed to falter for a moment, but she regrouped, steeling her expression as she turned to look at him. “Were you going to do something with that information?”

He stopped dead in his tracks, partly insulted by the insinuation but even more than that, he was shocked that she could think that he was capable of something like that. They hadn’t spent a lot of time together, it was true, but he’d believed that in that short time they had truly known one another.

Apparently not.

“Your highness, if you are implying that I was intending to blackmail you in some way,” he replied, his words clipped, “I must assure you most vehemently that I was not.” She’d stopped running a moment after he had, and he quickly closed the small distance that had opened up between them. “We might not each have known who the other really was, but I know that what I was starting to feel was real. I had thought – I’d hoped – that you’d felt the same.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open but she said nothing for a long moment. When she finally found her voice, she’d barely breathed a remorseful-sounding “Killian,” before he cut her off. He needed to step away before he completely imploded and said something he’d regret.

“If you’ll excuse me, your highness, since we’ve stopped I’m going to take the opportunity to switch out positions with Lieutenant French. She’ll be with you in a moment and I’ll take point up front until we return to the palace.” He inclined his head automatically – the training to show respect to the royal family still deeply ingrained even though his own personal feelings were in complete turmoil – before stepping away and jogging up to where Belle was waiting.

Though his better sense knew that Emma wouldn’t call after him, it still stung a bit that she didn’t.

-/-

She watched him cover the short distance up the road to where Lieutenant French had paused, unable to hear what they were saying and grateful for the few moments alone – before the other Lieutenant reached her, she needed to have pulled herself together.

What had she been thinking, practically accusing Killian of setting her up for blackmail? He was right – she might not have known everything about him during their short time together, but she did know what kind of person he was, and it wasn’t the sort who would sell someone out for their own gain. He wanted to earn everything he was given, and his code of honor was far too strong. With a sharp pang of longing, she remembered teasing him about what he’d called his “good form” during one of their earlier conversations.

You should have known better, Emma, she chided herself. Though, really, that seems to be true of everything you’ve done lately.

She knew she was careful, guarded – the paparazzi had dubbed her Misthaven’s “Prickly Princess” for her notoriously tough attitude – but she’d had to be. One mistake, and the court of public opinion would eat her alive, and by extension, have ammunition to use against her family – which could then be picked up by opposition politicians and used to leverage anti-royal sentiment in the parliament and Privy Council.

She’d learned that the hard way several years ago when the son of a visiting dignitary had seemed to take an interest in her. She was young and – though she hated to admit it – more naïve than she was now. He was a few years older than she was, and he’d seemed charming, experienced, exciting. She’d thought he’d been serious about her, that he’d actually wanted to get to know her, and so she’d let him woo her a bit – gone on a few public dates with him, which had all been fine and respectable and aboveboard. Her parents had been cautious, but as nothing had seemed amiss, they hadn’t objected when she’d wanted to keep seeing him. They’d stolen a bit of time together every time he’d accompanied his father when the older man traveled to Misthaven on political business, and he’d even flown in a few times just to spend time with her.

But then, after dinner one evening in the restaurant of one of Spero’s best hotels, he’d gotten on the wrong side of tipsy and tried to take her up to a room he’d rented. She’d not been ready for that step in their relationship and his rather aggressive attempts to change her mind had been ended quite abruptly. He’d proven himself to be either brazen, an idiot, or both, because her Cadre detail had been surveilling from a discreet distance but were still there, witnesses to everything that happened. But when he’d grabbed her by the arm and attempted to haul her into the hotel elevator, the Cadre guards hadn’t even had time to intervene before Emma had taken matters into her own hands – in a manner of speaking.

It was a very good thing that all the paparazzi photos had been confiscated immediately by the crown. It would have been an extreme scandal, after all, for the Princess of Misthaven to have been photographed kneeing her otherwise well-esteemed date in the crotch. Her parents, backed by the most trusted members of the palace staff, had made absolutely sure that every copy of every photo – along with every digital file and print negative – disappeared.

But despite their best efforts, when her former suitor and his father were suddenly persona non grata at the palace, the story had come out – even if not in full detail. The palace’s official press statement had given just the bare bones, and kept the focus on Emma’s companion’s bad behavior and downplayed their budding relationship as much as possible. There had been whispers of the more salacious details of that final date – rumors, nothing of substance, but just enough to fuel the tabloids. They’d run headlines like “Royal Rebel” and “The Highness’ Hijinks.” The scandal had been fairly limited, and had blown over quickly, but it had given just enough material to the opposition party at the time to create difficulties between her parents and certain members of the Privy Council.

That was difficult enough for the royal family to deal with, but what was far worse for Emma was feeling like she’d let her parents down. They’d assured her that it wasn’t her fault, and had nothing but anger and disdain for the former object of her affections. They placed the blame squarely on his shoulders, but Emma saw herself as responsible for letting him fool her into thinking he’d cared in the first place and had retreated into herself for a long time, becoming the “Prickly Princess” instead of the “Royal Rebel.”

Until Killian, her thoughts traitorously reminded her. He got right through those walls of yours without even trying at all.

She swiped away the frustrated tears that had slipped from her eyes after he’d walked away, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly in an attempt to pull herself together. She was mostly composed by the time Lieutenant French joined her, but the other woman still regarded her quietly for a moment when she stepped into place next to Emma.

“Is everything alright, your highness?” she asked politely, scanning the horizon for any sign of trouble while waiting for Emma’s response.

“Fine,” Emma managed, though her voice sounded rough and choked up to her own ears – Lieutenant French must have heard it too, for her attention quickly snapped back to Emma, her eyes sharp and her mouth pulling into a tight line, but she made no comment.

“As you say, miss. Do you wish to continue or turn back?” she asked, her tone slightly flatter than it had been a moment earlier, as if her thoughts were elsewhere – or, perhaps, as though she’d judged Emma and found her lacking somehow. The idea was disconcerting and Emma wasn’t sure what to do about it.

“Uh, um…let’s go just around the next loop,” Emma said, gesturing towards the road beyond where Killian now stood. It twisted through Emma’s favorite section of the royal park before turning back to connect with the road they were currently on at a point that was closer to the palace. She hoped running in one of her most loved places would soothe her, but she wasn’t too optimistic.

“Yes, miss.” Lieutenant French replied in that same flat tone before signaling to Killian, who set off at a jog before slowly picking up the pace. They fell in step behind him, Lieutenant French keeping up with Emma easily as they regained their earlier speed.

For a few moments, the two women ran together in an awkward silence. Somehow, Emma thought, it was even moreso than the one she’d just been sharing with Killian before their fight. After several minutes of this, Emma found she couldn’t take it anymore. “Lieutenant, can I ask you something and will you answer me honestly?”

“Of course, miss,” came the immediate and brusque reply, though the lieutenant didn’t look in Emma’s direction.

“How well do you know Lieutenant Jones?” she asked as quietly as she could, given that she was mid run and didn’t want to break stride again.

Lieutenant French’s head turned swiftly in Emma’s direction, the woman’s gaze catching Emma’s own briefly before she turned back and focused on the road. “We were training partners, and now we’re detailed together, miss.” She said before glancing back at Emma again with a hesitant look on her face. She seemed to want to continue, but didn’t move to speak, so Emma gestured for her to go on. “But, what I think you’re really asking me is…what kind of person is he?”

Emma nodded, taking her own turn to stare down the road and avoid her companion’s gaze.

Lieutenant French remained quiet for another moment before speaking softly yet intensely. “He’s honorable and kind. Brilliant and funny. Everything a good officer and a good person should be,” she waited for Emma to look back at her before she continued. “I trust him completely, and you can too,” she said. “Is that what you wanted to know, miss?”

Breathing hard, and not just from the exertion of their run, Emma managed another nod.

They ran the entire rest of the way back to the palace in silence.

-/-

Emma went straight to her rooms immediately after they returned to the palace – she took a shower and pulled on her most comfortable pair of pajamas, curling up among the soft pillows on her still-made bed. She knew she should put in an appearance at dinner – there were no formal state events on the calendar for the evening, but her parents still expected her to dine with them in the private family dining room – but she wasn’t hungry and she couldn’t bring herself to go down and go through the motions of acting like nothing was wrong.

So she called Elsa and asked her to send word to her parents that she was tired and that she’d be having dinner in her rooms that evening, and that she’d call the kitchens herself if and when she was ready to eat anything. After hanging up, she sank further down into her pillows and drifted into a haze of memories. She mentally sifted through everything that had led her to this current moment – all of her interactions with Killian, certainly, but everything else as well. Her romance with that diplomat’s son, her habit of sneaking out and visiting Two Wolves incognito from time to time, the whole “Prickly Princess” reputation, Minister Gold’s latest power-hungry schemes, and the deep desire she had to carve her own path and be more than a royal figurehead. She wanted to be able to lead her people in a way that would truly make a difference to them, but – given Misthaven’s somewhat traditional stance on “appropriate” roles for a Princess to play in matters of state – she wasn’t sure how to begin, or even if she’d be able to.

She wasn’t really aware of time passing, lost in her thoughts as she was, until a soft knock pulled her out of her reverie. She sat up, pushing her hair behind her ears and leaning back against the small mountain of pillows behind her. “Come in,” she called, a bit surprised by how scratchy her voice sounded.

The door swung open slowly and her mother’s head peeked through the gap. Concern flickered across the queen’s features when she took in Emma’s rumpled state, and she quickly stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. “Are you feeling alright, sweetheart?” she asked as she came over to sit on the edge of the bed near Emma’s feet.

Emma sighed, a somewhat nasal sound. Must be left over from crying earlier. “That seems to be the question of the day,” she muttered.

The queen quirked a curious eyebrow in Emma’s direction, her gaze so penetrating that it seemed to peer directly into Emma’s heart, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. They were quiet for a moment – Emma making at least an attempt to pull herself together and look a little more composed – before the queen spoke. “This is about that young man, I’d gather. The one in the photographs?” It sounded like a question, but Emma knew that it wasn’t.

She nodded anyway. “Yes,” she murmured, her gaze shifting down to where her hands were playing with the edge of her duvet. “I know you told me to end it…and I did…but…” she trailed off, searching for the right words to explain. “I just…” she petered out again, emotions choking her and rendering her unable to speak until her mother’s fingers laced with her own and squeezed tightly.

She looked up, finding the queen’s gaze and seeing no trace of the formal monarch, but only her mother – the woman who’d hugged her tight whenever she was hurt or upset as a child, who’d always encouraged her to follow her dreams, who was perhaps the only other person Emma knew who had experienced the pull between public duty and private emotions in quite the same way. She wasn’t sure if it was the wisest idea to tell her mother all the details about Killian – she wasn’t sure how the queen would react, especially since she’d not seemed keen on Emma seeing someone when the surveillance photos had surfaced – but she had to tell someone. She couldn’t take bottling everything up anymore.

Suddenly, she couldn’t stop talking – the entire tale spilled out easily. The feelings of frustration at Gold’s latest political intrigue, her hopes to do something meaningful with her position and despair that she might never really be allowed to, sneaking out to Two Wolves, meeting Killian, being charmed unexpectedly, getting to know him better over the last several weeks (though she thought it prudent to leave out the mind-boggling kisses from their picnic), then breaking it off only to find out he was part of the Cadre. She told her mother everything, all the way up to their fight earlier in the day, and when she’d finished she felt oddly better and lighter. A calm settled over her – no matter what happened next, at least she’d been honest with herself about all of her feelings.

The queen was quiet for the space of several heartbeats, and Emma cautiously raised her eyes to meet her mother’s gaze, unsure of what she’d see. The look of compassion and understanding that was shining back at her was an incredible relief for Emma – also a bit of a surprise, if she were being honest.

“Oh, Emma,” her mother started, her voice clearly laced with deep emotion. “I’m so sorry that you ever felt as though you didn’t have a place in leading Misthaven – your father and I have been so focused on strategizing how best to hold our own against the more aggressive members of the council and the more discontented factions in parliament, that I fear we’ve fallen back on relying only on each other out of habit.”

“It’s alright, Mom, I understand,” Emma murmured – and, on some level, she did. She’d been raised on the stories of her parents’ epic love match and brilliant political partnership. The most memorable tale had been the one in which they’d defeated a coup attempt shortly after their wedding. It was a sometimes daunting legacy to live up to.

“No, my darling girl, it’s not – and you shouldn’t have to.” Her mother leaned closer and brushed a strand of Emma’s hair back behind her ear before cupping Emma’s cheek with her free hand. “We’ve been so wrapped up in handling current issues the way we would have in the past, that we haven’t been thinking of the future – of you – as much as we should have. We’ll be fixing that immediately.”

“Really?” Emma asked, a note of hope creeping into her voice. “I have so many ideas-”

“And your father and I would love to hear them,” her mother replied. “I’ll clear our calendars tomorrow morning and we’ll start the conversation, alright?”

Emma nodded, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Absolutely.”

“Now, as to the other matter,” the queen said briskly. “We need to discuss what to do about-”

“Killian,” Emma finished for her mother. She chuckled dryly, a sound with no humor in it. “I didn’t think that anything could be worse than what happened the last time I let myself open up to someone – at least there were no paparazzi this time around, or else it would’ve been an even bigger mess.”

“You mustn’t blame yourself for what happened with that diplomat’s son, sweetheart,” her mother said firmly. “He was an entitled, arrogant braggart who brought every bit of that shame on himself, and, frankly, I’d probably have kneed him even harder than you did if I’d been in your position. I really wanted to do it anyhow,” she finished matter-of-factly.

“Thanks, Mom,” Emma said, a small smile finally causing the corners of her mouth to twitch upwards – it was a very brief thing, but it made her feel better nonetheless. “But as I told you that night, I still contend he kneed himself in the balls.”

The two women stared unblinkingly at each other for a moment before both breaking out into soft, but uncontrollable, laughter. “That should have been the official press statement,” chuckled the queen. “Why didn’t we think of that at the time?”

Emma shrugged. “Don’t know,” she replied with a laugh before her current predicament sobered her mood once again. She squeezed the hand that still held her mother’s. “But it doesn’t really help me to figure out what I do now.”

The queen regarded her for a few moments, and though Emma’d tried to guess at exactly what her mother might say, she wasn’t able to predict the words that the queen actually uttered in that moment. “Emma, you’re the only one who can make that choice.”

“But what about the council’s reaction? And Gold? And-”

“Sweetheart,” her mother said firmly, now squeezing Emma’s hand in return. “None of that matters. The only important thing is how you feel. I know now that the burdens of your royal position have been weighing on you rather keenly lately – and I am so very sorry that I hadn’t realized how much – but nothing that’s going on with that changes anything about this. What’s important is what you want.”

“I want to fix things with him, but I don’t know how,” Emma murmured, slightly stunned at the fact that her mother seemed to be advocating for her pursuing some sort of relationship with Killian. Not that there is a relationship to advocate for right now, given the way that we left things the last time we saw each other she thought regretfully, flashes of their fight replaying themselves in her mind.

“Oh, I have no doubt that you can,” her mother said, a note of mischief entering her voice. “If he’s half as taken with you as you are with him – and given what you’ve told me, I think he is – I don’t think it will be a problem.”

Emma shook her head slowly, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that her mother wasn’t more concerned. She’d expected more skepticism, or caution, or something – not this rather unabashed positivity and upbeat attitude. She’d thought she’d have to work a lot harder to convince her mother that a relationship with Kilian was a good idea, and the fact that the queen had gotten on board so quickly was kind of throwing Emma off-kilter. “I don’t know…it’s going to be really complicated. Maybe it’s simpler to just let it go.”

Her mother shook her head decisively. “It is simpler to do that, but that doesn’t mean it’s better, sweetheart. Anything worth having – really worth having – must be fought for. And you, my dear, have always been a fighter. Besides, fighting for love is the most worthwhile thing of all.”

She sat up straight, nearly dislodging several of her pillows with the sudden speed of her movements. “Whoa whoa whoa whoa, Mom. Who said anything about love? Don’t you think it’s a bit early for that?”

“Not really.” The queen leveled a knowing look at Emma, squeezing her hand once more before letting go and standing up. “Not if those surveillance photos are anything to go by, at any rate.”

Emma sat speechless as her mother brushed off her skirt and headed across the room. The queen had swung open the door and was about to step through when Emma finally found her voice. “You’re not worried I’m making a bad decision?”

Her mother shook her head and turned around, locking eyes with Emma when she did. “Emma, one of the things I’ve always admired about you is your instincts and how they lead you to make good decisions – most of the time, at least,” she said with a teasing arch of her eyebrows. “Trust your gut – listen to what it’s telling you. You’ll do the right thing for you, and whatever that is, your father and I will support it,” she promised, turning and stepping out of the room.

“You don’t think Dad will object?” Emma asked incredulously. “He took the last guy I was even remotely interested in down to see the royal armory and made vaguely menacing comments to him the whole time! I never heard from the guy after that! And what about the council?!”

Emma was still staring at the quickly closing door when it suddenly swung back open part of the way and her mother’s head popped back into view. “I’ll handle your father, don’t you worry. And don’t you worry about the council – your father and I have just figured out a few things that should put a halt to Gold’s machinations for the foreseeable future. Now,” she paused and pointed a finger at Emma as if to underline her final point. “You just try to be discreet while the lieutenant is finishing his Cadre cycle – I’m not saying put a halt to…things…” at this, she thought her mother blushed slightly before recovering. “…just try your best to keep the press from getting too interested in you both as a story, alright?”

Emma nodded. “I think I can manage that,” she said, a small seed of optimism taking root, despite her very real worry that Killian wouldn’t forgive her.

“Oh, and one more thing,” her mother said casually as she turned again and began to leave once more. “I meant what I said about the way you make decisions, Emma, but don’t forget, proposed Cadre Initiates each receive a thorough background check as part of their selection process. Your father and I have read enough about your Lieutenant Jones to know he’s as honorable as they come. I think I can speak for us both when I say the only concern we’d have would be if he’d care well for your heart.”

“He would,” Emma said softly, but with conviction, the tears from earlier threatening to make a reappearance. “That is, I haven’t ruined things between us.”

Her mother shook her head, a fond smile on her face. “Oh sweetheart, I wouldn’t worry about that.”

With that, she was gone, leaving Emma to try to process everything that had just happened. She couldn’t deny that she felt better than she had when she’d initially come back to her rooms, but everything she’d been sure of had just been turned upside down yet again. Her mind was whirling and she was torn between thinking about which of her plans and projects she wanted to cover with her parents during their strategy session the following morning and trying to come up with a way to fix things with Killian.

An idea for the latter began to take hold in her mind – it was a simple plan, so hopefully it would have the best chance of working. A grin spread across her face slowly.

Now she just had to wait for the perfect moment to set it all in motion.

-/-

Three days.

It had been three bloody days since he’d fought with Emma – with the Princess, he mentally corrected himself – and continuing on her detail had been nothing short of torturous. They’d been near each other constantly over the past several days, but without any opportunity to speak to each other beyond basic pleasantries.

Though you’ve got no idea what you’d say to her anyway, so maybe that’s for the best, he thought, a frown stealing across his face in response to that realization.

The princess had been extremely busy in the last three days – starting with a meeting with her parents the morning after their fight. When the door to the queen’s private rooms had opened after the meeting, he’d been sure that he was about to be dismissed – the king was looking at him with thinly veiled suspicion, he’d been sure of it. But the queen seemed to be regarding him with an inexplicably fond look, before she’d threaded her arm through her husband’s and drawn him away down the corridor. Emma had flicked the briefest of looks in his direction before she’d taken off at a brisk pace in the opposite direction and he and Belle had fallen into step behind her.

Since then, Emma’d been embroiled in a succession of meetings and other palace business practically non-stop. In her few free moments, she’d been eating, sleeping, or deeply engrossed in research – though on what, he couldn’t say. It had made the idea of approaching her to apologize for his behavior very difficult to put into practice, and the further they’d gotten from their fight, the harder it was to bring it up again at all. Not to mention that she’d been so busy that she’d been skipping her morning run, eliminating one of the best opportunities for him to speak to her alone.

They’d settled into a sort of uneasy half-truce, or at least that’s what it felt like to him, where they didn’t really avoid each other – though given that he was assigned to her detail, she couldn’t very well avoid him altogether – but they didn’t interact very much unless it was absolutely necessary.

Which is why hearing her voice at nearly midnight, coming from the shadowed expanse of the courtyard to his left, was a bit of a surprise.

“Killian?” her voice calling his name floated towards him out of the near-total darkness. “Can you…can you come here…please?”

He hesitated a moment before stepping onto the grass, recognizing it as the same space where he and Belle had met Emma the morning of their fateful running session. She was seated at the far end with one leg tucked underneath her on a low, raised stone wall that encircled a small fountain. In the corner, near a line of Middlemist bushes, an old hanging lantern that had been retrofitted for electricity dimly illuminated that she was playing absently with the cuff of her left sleeve as he approached.

She looked up at him as he drew closer and opened her mouth to speak – but suddenly, he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear whatever it was she had to say. “Princess, I do hope you’re having a delightful evening,” he began, falling back on hyper-formality to cover the insecurity that had flared to life in his gut. “But if you’re not in need of anything, I’m going to go consult with Lieutenant French about a few matters.”

He’d taken only a couple of steps towards the covered portico that ran along one side of the courtyard before Emma’s voice brought him up short. “You can’t.”

“Pardon?” he sputtered, his reply far less eloquent than he’d have preferred. “Why not?” he asked – he couldn’t think of a single reason Emma would have for barring him from speaking with the other member of his detail.

Emma stood up and crossed the grass to where he was standing. She looked up at him, her beautifully green eyes seeming even larger when they caught and reflected the moonlight. “She’s not here – I sent her back to Lieutenant Humbert to make the nightly report.”

“She agreed to leave you alone?” He knew that they were on the palace grounds, and there were likely no immediate threats to the princess’ safety, but he was still stunned that the normally rule-abiding Belle would have broken protocol so blatantly.

“I insisted, and I can be pretty persuasive when I need to be,” Emma said, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I knew you’d be along shortly for shift change, and I wanted to speak with you alone.”

“Oh?” Killian’s pulse kicked up a notch and the sense of trepidation he’d been keeping at bay for the last several days increased. Perhaps he was going to be dismissed, and the princess just wanted to do it herself. He kept his face impassive and his words formal as his gaze fell to hers. “How may I be of service, your highness?”

Emma simply looked at him for several long moments, her eyes searching his and her expression far too soft for someone about to make a pronouncement that would ruin his career. She opened her mouth a second time as if to speak, but closed it again before stepping closer to him and starting over. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice low and tinged with regret, “for everything I said to you the other day. Killian, I…you were right. What was starting to happen between us was real, but you have to understand,” she looked up at him pleadingly, “it’s not easy to know who to trust when you’re in my position, and I’ve…I’ve been burned before by exactly this sort of thing. I got scared when we discovered each other’s real identities, but I shouldn’t have been…in my heart, I always knew what kind of person you are, and you didn’t deserve my suspicion, or my accusations. I’m so sorry.”

She finished and took a step back, her eyes flitting away from his while he stood staring at her, dumbfounded. Of all the things he’d expected when he’d found her alone in the courtyard, this turn of events wasn’t anywhere on the list. It took him a few moments to find his voice, and even as he began speaking he wasn’t entirely sure of what he was going to say. He wasn’t at all surprised, though, when he heard himself saying, “It’s alright. I owe you an apology as well-”

Her head whipped up and she shook it vehemently. “You really don’t-”

“I really do,” he insisted, taking a deep breath and scrubbing a hand over his face and through his hair. “I was being selfish – I knew I couldn’t tell you who I was because of protocol and I kept seeing you anyway. I put you in a difficult position and when the truth came out, I spoke very harshly to you – and I was more than a bit of a hypocrite about it all. I’m sorry, Emma.”

He’d barely realized that he’d used her given name for the first time since he’d found out she was the princess when the air between them seemed to take on an electric charge. “Say that again,” she whispered, stepping back closer to where he stood.

“What? That I’m sorry?” he said, a note of teasing creeping into his voice as he mirrored her, moving close enough that they were almost touching. “Because I am, you know.”

“No,” she shook her head, smiling at him as she pressed up on her tiptoes and her arms crept around his neck. “Say my name again – please.”

A slow grin spread across his face as he leaned down, murmuring Emma against her mouth before his lips covered her own. This kiss was so unlike the previous ones they’d shared on the day of that fateful picnic – those had been filled with the urgency of newness and, he realized now, it was more than likely that Emma had thought it might have been the only one they’d ever share. By contrast, this one was slow, languorous, unfolding as lazily as if they had all the time in the world and intended to spend it solely with each other.

When they finally pulled back, his arms had wound fully around her waist and her hands were firmly entangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. He imagined that his expression mirrored hers, dazed but so very happy.

“Well,” she said on a laugh, sounding delighted and far more carefree than he’d ever heard her in the short time he’d known her. “That makes this next part easier.”

“Next part?” he asked absently, more focused on trailing one hand slowly up and down her back, tracing random patterns as he went. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment at the sensation before she blinked and focused on him again.

“Yes,” she nodded decisively. “The part where I ask you out on a date – where we both know who the other person is, Killian.”

“A date?” he repeated, feeling as dizzy as though he’d been whacked over the head with something rather large and heavy. He shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it. “How would that even work? With you being…well, you and me being in the Cadre. What would it even look like?”

She grinned – brightly enough to light the whole courtyard without electricity – in response. “Well,” she murmured, scratching her fingernails lightly against the back of his neck in an extremely distracting way. “I don’t exactly know yet. I was kind of hoping you’d be willing to help me figure that out.”

He looked down at her, mind still reeling with everything they’d said – not to mention getting to kiss her again – and fully aware of the challenges that would lie ahead for them both if he accepted. But as he stared at her happy, hopeful expression, and felt a similar one on his own face, he knew there was only one answer in his heart. “With pleasure, Emma.”

Her happy laugh rang through the courtyard for a moment until they lost themselves in each other once again.

-/-

Misthaven Star-Herald

ROYAL REBEL WITH A CAUSE: PRINCESS EMMA SET TO OPEN NEW CHARITIES TO PROMOTE ADVANCEMENT OF MISTHAVEN’S WOMEN AND SUPPORT AT-RISK CHILDREN

By Sidney Glass

Star-Herald Royal Reporter

SPERO, MISTHAVEN, MAY 30, 2023 – Today, Princess Emma of Misthaven finally realized a long-held dream. With her husband, Commodore Killian Jones, at her side, the princess – who is expecting the couple’s first child late this summer – presided over the openings of two new organizations of which she will serve as patron.

The first, Move Forward Misthaven, is a group dedicated to supporting the advancement of women in all industries and areas of study, but with a particular focus on the fields of business, political science, and education. “The goal with Move Forward Misthaven is to elevate talented women in all fields and cultivate them for the leadership roles they are eager to inhabit,” the princess related when asked about her reasons for founding the organization. “We are dedicated to broadening Misthaven’s horizons as we look to the country’s future as a player on the world stage.”

The second group, Stand Up Misthaven, will tackle the much-needed task of providing aid and resources for at-risk children – ranging from educating teachers on how to prevent bullying in schools, to coordinating with youth shelters to provide better care for homeless teens, to evaluating the Misthaven foster system to overhaul its quality of care. “We must speak, we must stand up, for those who cannot do so for themselves – and there are few who are more in need of aid than children, those who look to us for care, for love, and proper direction.” The princess stated in an impassioned speech she gave at the organization’s opening. “Stand Up Misthaven will advocate for those who cannot advocate for themselves.”

Princess Emma has long been an unusual figure in the Misthaven royal family, far more concerned with active public service than traditional diplomatic endeavors, though it is only in recent years that the royal protocols have been altered to allow her a more hands-on role in public leadership. This personal approach will continue with both of her new organizations – the princess will serve on the board of both, but will also make use of her graduate degree as a political science course leader for Move Forward Misthaven. She is also set to speak in front of parliament next week on behalf of improvements to the Misthaven foster system in support of Stand Up Misthaven.”

Ever marching to the beat of her own drum, the princess likewise bucked tradition with her marriage to the common-born Commodore Jones just over a year ago. Jones, who had been a member of Cadre 2018 – and who declined the offer to stay on as training officer for Cadre 2021 two years ago in favor of returning to Misthaven’s Royal Navy – has gained distinction at every turn and has accumulated a service record littered with honors and promotions, starting well before his romance with the princess began.

It is too early to speculate on the potential success of either of the princess’ new organizations, but with her clear determination and boundless energy, and the obviously mutually supportive bond shared between her highness and the Commodore, it isn’t an exaggeration to say that far from the “Royal Rebel” or “Prickly Princess” she was once deemed to be, Princess Emma is the face of Misthaven’s future.

[xpumpkindumplingx]

Whatever you do, don’t imagine this precious bean...

coming by to pick up this equally adorable cinnabon...

for their first date.  

And whatever you do, don’t imagine this look on David’s face when he realizes his little girl is in love with the boy who lives down by the bay.

Or how about this darling dork, always so vigilant in his task of keeping his little younger brother out of trouble... 

until the day his eyes land on this delightfully peculiar lass with the hair almost as blonde as the snow itself...

and don’t think for one minute about how this shimmering snowflake will try all she can to not let Liam get to her. She has a duty after all, look after her sister Anna and keep her Aunt Ingrid’s house in order. Elsa certainly has no time to entertain the thought of falling in love with boys. Especially ones with menacing brown curls and eyes as blue as the sea after a storm.