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deadlyflames · 7 months

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Day 7: Free Day

Born to Run ~ Swanfire Enchanted Forest AU Fic

Ao3

Based on this post

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The Swan Princess

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In the private royal gardens, one lone swan floated on the man-made pool. King David had several similar pools made throughout the castle within the past 10 years. Some were inside for the winter months, while others were in the private gardens so the swan could enjoy the warmer months outdoors.

The pool was made of white polished marble, with tall pillars and a roof to provide shade from the hot summer sun, along with an ornate fountain in the centre. Lily pads and coy fish had been added to the pool for stimulation and atmosphere, but the swan became less and less impressed with these additions as she grew older. These days, she lived for the day’s end and the approach of sunset. She ruffled her snow-white feathers in anticipation as she watched the sun slowly sink beneath the horizon.

When the last remnants of sunlight faded away, a bright glow enveloped the swan’s form. Water splashed up on its own accord and swirled around the swan, and in a shimmer of light, the white feathers melted away to reveal a young woman standing in the pool.

Princess Emma took the silk robe that was waiting for her at the side of the pool and wrapped it around herself as she emerged from the water. For the sake of her privacy, her parents would give her this period of grace after the sun had set. These few minutes of solitude, when she could soak in the twilight and breathe in the fresh night air with her human lungs, were minutes that she treasured.

But she couldn’t stay out there forever. A princess, even one with her affliction, had responsibilities. Especially on this particular night.

Stepping into her slippers, Emma begrudgingly made her way towards the castle, just as her mother came out to greet her.

Snow White was still regarded as the fairest in the land. Even after years had passed since she had become queen, her beauty and grace were untouched. The elaborate gown she wore was encrusted with jewels which shimmered in the night, and it whispered along the floor as she walked towards her.

“Emma!” Snow wrapped her arms around her daughter, squeezing her for a bit too long and a bit too tightly. “How was your day?”

Emma skewed her lips into a pout as she pulled back from the embrace. “Same as any other day.”

Snow’s bright smile didn’t falter, but it did seem to crack in response to her daughter’s dismissive tone. Not to be deterred, she turned back and motioned to someone behind her. A servant stepped forward with a large present in his arms, artfully wrapped and adorned with a bright red bow.

“Well, I know I already told you this in the morning,” she said, and her hopeful expression made Emma feel a twinge of guilt for her curt words. “But happy birthday!”

Emma looked at the gift and could already guess what it contained based on its size and the timing. Her parents had given her a new archer’s bow before the sunrise, meaning this present was something connected to tonight’s festivities. Not wanting to hurt her mother’s feelings any further, she offered a hesitant smile before untying the bow. As she expected, the wrappings revealed a splendid periwinkle gown. One she was likely expected to wear tonight.

Despite the dread that was rising in her gut, Emma plastered an ecstatic grin on her face. “It’s beautiful mama,” she replied, running her fingers along the fine gossamer fabric. “Thank you!”

Emma’s attempt at covering her unease hadn’t been as convincing as she had hoped. Snow was many things, but delusional wasn’t one of them. Taking her daughter’s hands into her own, she gave her most imploring look. Not many could resist the earnest compassion and sweetness of those big green eyes, not even a girl who shared those same eyes.

“I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend your evening,” she said with understanding. “But I hope you can enjoy yourself tonight. There will be dancing and a feast. I’m sure you’ll get more than a few offers to dance.” Snow White beamed while Emma resisted the urge to grimace. “It’ll be fun.”

Emma sighed heavily before swallowing her apprehension. Nodding along to her mother’s assurance, she took the present from the servant’s outstretched arms.

“I’ll try,” Emma promised as she and her mother made their way through the entrance that connected the ballroom to the expansive royal gardens. When she entered, her face was bathed in the warm glow of a thousand candles. She turned to her mother and performed a quick curtsy. “I’ll go get ready.”

Emma made her exit from the resplendent ballroom, where the final preparations for her 17th birthday celebration were being made.

It was a celebration that Emma was not looking forward to in the least.

For her, these balls were events where she would be paraded before a mob of gossiping aristocrats and nobles. Their curiosity would be assuaged when they caught another brief glimpse of their mysterious princess. The sheltered girl never appeared at court or even during the daytime, but when they saw her at the ball, they would know she was still alive and not being held in a tower somewhere.

Queen Snow White and King David did an admirable job of hiding their daughter’s curse from the world, aside from the most trusted servants, guards and some close friends. However, rumours tended to sprout like weeds in spite of best-laid plans.

Whispers had spread throughout the Enchanted Forrest about the Cursed Princess. The heir to the throne, who had been put under a spell when she was a babe. Her step-grandmother Regina, known as the Evil Queen, had exacted her revenge on Snow White by cursing her only daughter to be a beast during the day and a girl at night.

Emma wished those rumours were true. Being a beast would be much more interesting than being stuck as a swan. Maybe that’s why Regina made her a waterfowl. Somehow she knew it would be painfully boring.

“They’ll gawk and stare. I’m sure some might make awkward small talk,” Emma complained, adjusting the sleeves that were patterned with silver roses and vines “‘What have you been up to?’ ‘When will we see you at court?’ ‘Have you been well?’ Not that they care, I think they just want to confirm their theories or dig for more gossip.”

Emma had been laced into her corset and had her long blonde hair pulled back into an elaborate bun, with a few sweeping curls framing her face. A more subtle tiara had been placed on her head since she couldn’t stand wearing a heavy crown of jewels, especially tonight.

“There’s going to be some scheming duke or count or whatever who will try to seduce me. That’s always fun,” she sneered. Potential suitors had been lining up to claim her since she was 13. After all, as heir to the throne and the daughter of the ‘fairest in the land’, she would make a glorious prize. She’d have to endure simpering noblemen of all ages vying for a dance and bragging about themselves in an attempt to enthral her. It would make for an exhausting night. She turned to her baby brother with a wry smirk. “I’m just saying, you’re lucky you’ll be asleep.”

Leo looked up at her from the plush rug where he sat surrounded by toys with his mouth slightly agape. His baby blue eyes were wide and curious and showed that he was completely oblivious to her plight. Emma found her little brother to be a great listener when she needed to vent, which seemed to be all the time. It was helped by the fact that he couldn’t repeat anything she said to their parents, since he only knew how to say ‘mama’, ‘dada’, and occasionally ‘Em’.

Emma was stalling by hanging around her brother’s nursery, wanting to avoid the ballroom full of guests who were awaiting her arrival. But her mother or her father were bound to come looking for her if she made them wait much longer.

“I guess I’ll have to face them sooner or later.” The princess heaved a sigh before offering the little prince a playful smile. She curtsied daintily before plucking her brother from the floor. “May I have this dance?”

Leo babbled happily as she twirled with him in her arms, the layers of shimmering fabric swirling about her heels.

“That’ll be my favourite dance of the night,“ Emma stated as she placed the baby back into his crib.

“Well, I hope that’s not true,” a familiar voice called out behind her. Emma whipped around to see her father standing in the doorway. “The night just started.”

“I was just about to come down, Daddy,” she said hastily, smoothing out her dress.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” her father laughed, coming up beside the little prince’s crib and tucking the baby in. “I think the princess gets to be fashionably late to her own party. But, we should let Leopold get some sleep.” He straightened and held out extended the crook of his arm for her to take. “Shall we?”

Emma nodded, ducking her head to hide the frown on her face as she looped her arm through her father’s.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” David said as he led her out of the nursery and towards the ballroom. When Emma didn’t give a response, he chose to prod her rather than ignore her melancholy. “You don’t seem very excited.”

That was because she wasn’t. When she was little, she had been so thrilled to attend her first ball. Since it was held after sunset, for once she could actually meet people, instead of being hidden away as she was during the day. But she couldn’t stand the way people stared at her like she was some sort of pitiable wretch or some oddity on display. It didn’t help that everyone was so uptight and two-faced. Someone would be complimenting her one minute before snickering behind her back the next. The parties had become a chore to get out of the way before she could spend her night as she wished.

With Emma’s stubborn silence, her father was prompted to try again. “I know you don’t always like these things, but-“

“Then why do we keep throwing them?” Emma huffed, fed up with pretending to be happy. “It’s my birthday. So, why can’t I celebrate how I want?”

“I understand, Emma,” David said calmly, slowing his stride as they continued their walk. He didn’t want to enter that ballroom without an attempt at lifting his daughter’s spirits. “I didn’t grow up with all these extravagant balls. I’ve never gotten used to all the pomp and circumstance. But I think it’s good for you to go to parties like this. It’s a chance to meet people. To make friends.”

“Friends I would only get to see if there’s a ball,” she grumbled under her breath. “Or if there’s a hunt being held at night for some reason.”

David stopped in his tracks, causing Emma to jolt to a stop as well. He turned so that he faced her head-on, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. Emma met his searching stare with a pout and her arms over her chest, sensing that she had earned a lecture with her comment.

“Emma, I know living with this curse isn’t easy,” he said, his normally light tone shifting into one of earnest solemnity. “Every day, I wish I could find a way to make things better for you. But we can’t just shut you away from everyone while we look for a solution.”

Emma’s gaze shifted to the wall, pointedly avoiding her father’s searching gaze. She knew he was right. As much as she disliked these parties, being hidden away indefinitely like a secret shame would make her feel even more like a freak. At least on a night like tonight, she could pretend she was an ordinary girl. Well, as ordinary as it was to be a princess having a ball thrown in your honour.

“Besides, tonight could give you the answer you’re looking for,” he continued cryptically, causing Emma to scrunch up her nose in confusion when she met his eyes again. “A ball is the perfect place to find your true love.”

An unladylike snort passed through her lips at that statement. The deadpan look she gave her father caused a smile to twitch on his lips. “Somehow, I doubt my true love is down there.”

That particular hope had been extinguished after years of disappointment. Emma had been wishing to find her true love since she was a child. She grew up hearing stories about the unstoppable power of a ‘true love’s kiss’. Before she was born, her father woke her mother from a sleeping curse with that powerful kiss. Emma dreamed that one day she would find the person who who help her break her own curse.

However, love had alluded Emma despite her best efforts to find it. Her parents would describe this instantaneous connection that they developed within a few days, this spark of attraction that ignited a blaze when they saved one another on the troll bridge. Emma never found that connection.

“You’ll never know if you don’t look,” David responded. He offered his arm once more, blue eyes sparkling with amusement in the candlelight. “Maybe someone will surprise you.”

Emma doubted it, but her father’s optimism still brought a grin to her lips. Squaring her shoulders and puffing out her chest, she looped her arm through his again and mentally prepared for a night of misery. “Let’s get this pony show over with.”

David smiled as they marched into the ballroom. “That’s my girl.”

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The Runaway Theif

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There were pros and cons to sneaking into an exclusive royal ball.

Pro. There were plenty of unsuspecting wealthy nobles, who would be occupied with the festivities and wine. It made them easy prey for the nimble fingers of a seasoned pickpocket. No one expected to get robbed while rubbing elbows with the monarchs.

Con. Being caught meant being thrown into the stocks or worse. The severity of punishment depended on who caught you. Queen Snow White was widely regarded as kind and just. The worst she would do to a humble thief would be to throw them out of the castle. Other aristocrats would sooner take a hand or a head rather than let a pickpocket get away unscathed.

Pro. The food was mouthwatering and abundant. After living on stolen scraps for the past few days, having access to a royal banquet would be a nice relief for a hungry man’s aching stomach.

At this point, the pros outweighed the cons.

Neal Cassidy was a man of few means, but he was also an opportunist. As difficult as it would be to sneak into a royal ball, the payout would be worth it.

The effort was made simpler by some premeditation. The whole kingdom had been abuzz with the news of Princess Emma’s birthday and the ball that would be thrown in her honour. It was good business for the high-end tailors, as plenty of nobles had money to burn on new dresses and doublets for the event. Posing as a delivery man, Neal managed to get his hands on a nice set of clothes that would be suitable enough to help him blend with the other attendees.

Looking the part of a noble didn’t guarantee his entry, since no one would make it through the front gates without an invitation. So he wouldn’t be entering through the front gates.

Less than four years had passed since he escaped from Neverland, and the skills he had developed in that centuries-long nightmare were still engrained in him. Scaling a castle wall was nothing in comparison to climbing a jagged cliff face with lost boys laughing and hollering from above and below as you tried not to fall to your death. And that had been just a part of Pan’s twisted obstacle race.

After the sun had gone down, and the castle was aglow from within, no one paid mind to the dark shadow crawling its way up the outer walls.

Slipping into the ballroom from a back door in the castle gardens, Neal was taken aback by the sheer splendour around him. The room was lined with large white columns accented with gold. The massive chandelier that hung above glimmered like it was made of diamonds. Noble women in beautiful gowns, being swept across the marble floor by their dance partners.

Neal took a steadying breath, soaking in the opulence that was not meant for lost boys or thieves before he got to work. Sleight of hand was a skill that you had to pick up quickly on the streets of London, in Neverland, and in the slums of the kingdom. With a careful misdirection, you could swipe a diamond ring or a golden broach and the owner would be none the wiser.

The difficult part was not getting carried away and not stealing too many items in such a short amount of time. That was something Neal had trouble with, especially when surrounded by so many stuffy blue bloods covered in jewels that would help keep him fed for a month.

Neal spent the night flattering inflated egos and pocketing treasures that were sure not to be missed in the long run. He was loitering around the buffet and sampling the strange foods that the upper class enjoyed (Who would eat a peacock?) when his eagerness came back to bite him.

“My necklace! It’s fallen off!”

A younger woman whom he had charmed a few minutes ago was shrieking in despair as she felt her bare neck. An older man marched up to her as she panicked, with a dour frown that brought out the wrinkles in his face.

“By gods, Carissa! You would lose your head if it wasn’t attached to your shoulders! Heavens know that would cost me less! Why are you always so careless?!”

“It wasn’t my fault, daddy! The servants here have sticky fingers! One of them must have taken it!”

Neal thumbed the golden string of emeralds in his pocket as he covertly shuffled away from the commotion. He slipped behind a pillar into a hall untouched by the torchlight, meanwhile, the Lord and his daughter continued to bicker and roped some poor servers into searching for the necklace. With the fuss they were kicking up, others were bound to notice that they were also missing jewelry. That would drum up a manhunt and he didn’t want to be around when that happened. Neal kicked himself for not taking more of the ridiculous and abundant food when he had the chance.

He looked frantically for the nearest exit when a blur of golden curls caught his attention.

The din of music and people's voices faded into a quiet hum. After that, he couldn’t look away if he tried.

A girl in a silver gown raced behind another pillar, pressing her back flat against the stone. She was a few yards away from where Neal was pressed against his own pillar, but she didn’t seem to notice him. Her eyes were tightly closed and her chest rose and fell with heaving gasps as if she had been trapped underwater and was now finally coming up for air.

She was young, maybe a few years younger than him. Done up in a silver corseted dress, embroidered with roses that glittered in the dark hall. Her blonde hair was pulled into a bun aside from a few strands that framed her face.

And it was one hell of a face. Neal would swear she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

Neal was transfixed as he watched her entire body seem to sag in relief against the pillar. She released the deepest sigh he had ever witnessed. Extending her neck, she rested the back of her head against the stone pillar and turned her face up to the ceiling. Slowly, her eyes opened and the smallest breath of laughter passed through her lips.

For the first time in a very long time, Neal wished he could sketch. He hadn’t drawn anything in years, but he wanted to capture that feeling on a page. That moment of freedom.

Neal’s breath was caught in his throat when her attention was finally turned towards him. Despite the urge to look down in embarrassment, he continued to stare. The girl peered at him for a brief moment, before pointedly turning her gaze back to the ceiling. She didn’t ignore him for very long, but it felt like hours until her eyes slid back towards him. After a beat, she gave him a glare that seemed to say ‘What the hell are you looking at?’. That was enough to bring Neal’s attention to his shoes.

When he had the nerve to look up at her again, the girl was still staring at him. Neal felt bare beneath the intensity of her eyes, and he wondered if she could tell he didn’t belong there. Or maybe she was just as intrigued by him as he had been by her. Maybe they were both outsiders in this place.

They stood in silence, both watching the other while the bright ball continued at their backs.

The girl kept her eyes on him as she pushed herself from the pillar and started walking towards him. Neal was certain his heart would burst in his chest when she actually reached him. But she never got the chance to get that far. A hand latched onto hers, whirling her around and pulling her attention away from him.

And just like that, the spell he had been under snapped like a string pulled taught.

Some young aristocrat had a smarmy grin on his face and had the girl’s hand pressed to his lips. Neal couldn’t hear what he said, but he could see the muscles in the girl's back becoming tight and her free hand was balled up into a fist. After a brief exchange of words that Neal couldn’t make out, the noble dragged her toward the centre of the ballroom.

She didn’t look back.

Strangely, all the other dancers dispersed as the couple went straight for the centre of the dance floor. The young noble snapped his fingers to get the attention of the musicians and demanded that they play a waltz. The girl looked like she wanted to ram her elbow into his teeth.

“Who is that?” Neal asked aloud as the girl was pulled into a stiff dance. He hadn’t asked anyone in particular, but people in this type of crowd were always eager to impart gossip.

“The young Lord LeGume,” an older woman answered from behind her ornate fan. “A scheming little upstart who thinks he can charm his way into the royal quarters. He’s a scoundrel from what I hear. He deflowered the daughter of the Duke of the Frontlands, but he left the girl pregnant and disgraced. I suppose he has his eyes set on a much bigger prize.”

“What about the girl?” Neal asked the woman. She seemed knowledgeable and loose-tongued enough to give him the answer he actually wanted.

The woman seemed aghast by his question, looking at him as if he had grown another head.

“That is Princess Emma!” She said with her hand pressed to her bosom, shocked by his lack of awareness. “Were you raised out in the woods?”

The princess.

Neal felt his body seize up with mortification. He had been gaping at her like an idiot and had been stupid enough to think they had some sort of kinship. She had probably been marching over to him to slap him or order that he leave the castle or have him thrown in the dungeons for his rudeness.

“Well, it’s not as if she’s ever at court,” a different woman said in his defence. “No one ever has the opportunity to see her, let alone the ability to recognize her.”

“She’s quite a lovely thing,” an older man chimed in, watching as the princess was pulled in close by the Lord Legume. Neal could see her grimace as the young noble’s lips came close to her ear. “I wonder why the king and queen hide her from us.”

“I’ve heard that she’s is quite mad and they can only take her out for occasional outings.”

“Well, I’ve heard she was cursed by the Evil Queen.” The woman beside Neal whispered. “She becomes so hideous under the light of the sun that no one can stand to look at her.”

“Well, I’m sure she’ll make a fine wife all the same,” the older man said, leering at the princess as the hand at her waist began to slide lower. “Plenty would take a mad or cursed princess for a kingdom this great. Besides, there’s no need to see her in the day. A wife’s main purpose is fulfilled in the bedroom after sundown.”

“Reginald! Honestly!”

Neal decided that he had his fill of the gentry for one night. He might as well escape this place while all these vultures were distracted by the princess and her groping suitor.

However, before he could take a single step towards the door, the music screeched to a halt and a collective gasp erupted from the crowd.

The princess had shoved the lord away from her, so hard that he stumbled back several steps. Whatever he had been whispering in her ear, it was enough to have the princess stop the dance before the song had ended. She was gritting her teeth and casting the boy with a livid glare so fierce that he flinched away from it. However, Princess Emma’s ferocity was not enough to stop Lord Legume from putting his foot in his mouth.

“They should keep a thing like you in a cage!” He screeched. “You're practically a rabid animal?”

Apparently, Neal had been right about one thing that night. Princess Emma really had wanted to ram her elbow into the other man’s teeth. There was a heavy thud as she forced the sharp corner of her elbow into Lord LeGume’s face. Blood gushed from his mouth as he fell back to the floor, while the princess rubbed her reddening arm.

In the heavy silence that fell over the ballroom, the sharp laugh that came out of Neal’s mouth seemed to echo.

Princess Emma paid no heed to the nobles, servants, and guards that stared at her in shock. She didn’t even look at the king and queen, who were sitting gobsmacked on their thrones. She simply marched out of the ballroom with her head high, shoving her way past the other guests.

Neal figured this was as good a time as ever to slip from the ballroom unnoticed.

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The Serpent in the Garden

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Emma didn’t stop running until she reached the palace gardens. Falling to her knees at the side of her favourite pool, she gathered the gossamer skirts of her gown into her fists. She wanted to rip the dress to shreds or punch more of those snotty sycophants in the teeth. Hot tears burned at the corners of her eyes as a scream of frustration ripped its way through her throat.

“Oh dear. Seems it’s not a very happy birthday to you.”

Emma whipped around to see who had invaded her place of refuge. Her heart jumped in her throat when she saw the lizard-skinned figure that stood behind her. The wide blackened grin and serpentine eyes caused a shiver to crawl up her spine. Emma had only seen him once when she was a child, but she would recognize him anywhere.

“Rumplestiltskin.”

#swanfire #ouat #swanthief #emma swan #baelfire #neal cassidy #sfweek2023 #nealfire #once upon a time #i completely missed swanfire week #but ive had this on the backburner for a while #worked hard on those gifs #Just a one shot for now cause writing is hard

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