Chapter Text
Leather boots clicked on the polished stone floor. Their owner glanced around, then ducked inside a large, stone door. The door that she had specifically been prohibited from entering—and not that she wasn’t a rule follower; her father had made sure she was. It was just that leaving an unlocked ‘prohibited’ door in the palace was a recipe for disaster, and if she didn’t go in, someone else (multiple someones) would.
…and she wanted to see the painting.
The painting had a smiling, white-haired pregnant woman sitting on a chair. Behind her was her smiling, ginger husband. Next to him, a placid smile on her face, was their oldest daughter. Two children sat in front of the chair.
Quite honestly, this painting scared the owner of the boots. Not because it was haunted, or anything similar—no matter what her twin younger siblings would probably say—but because it was so like theirs. She slipped out of the door again, and walked down a hall—a hall she had absolutely every right to be in, except that it was the middle of the night.
She stopped in front of a portrait she’d memorized, its edges glinting in the moonlight, and she sat in front of it. Again, there was the smiling, white haired pregnant woman, even if this time the blue dress was a shirt and leggings and boots. Again there was the smiling, ginger-brown haired husband standing behind her, ready to leap into action to defend his wife. Again, two children lounged in front of the chair, and again the eldest daughter stood next to her father.
Emma stared at her own face in the picture. She wasn’t smiling—she looked deeply uncomfortable standing there, in armor. And that, Emma supposed, was the biggest difference—she and Dagmar were two completely different people, two different paintings. Dagmar in her painting was a picture of grace in a purple gown. Emma was stiff, and desperately hadn’t wanted to be there.
She wasn’t pretty, not like her younger sister. Adelaide, the younger twin to Alfred, had large, doe like brown eyes and platinum blonde hair. Admittedly, so did Alfred, but as far as Emma knew, no one was sending envoys to ask for his hand in advance.
Emma was tall and lanky, with her father’s bone structure. She had a strong jaw, an aquiline nose, and she didn’t have the soft white curls of her mother and Addie. She had the same ginger-brown hair that her father’s family had. It didn’t matter if you were a man, she supposed. But on her, her hair looked like straw. Muddy straw. What man would want an ugly, mannish woman, even if she came with a kingdom?
She got up off of the floor, and started making her way to the kitchens. Hopefully, Nana Bunty had left out some manner of food for the twins in case they got hungry to stop them from raiding the cupboards. A mostly futile gesture, but it might work.
Instead, she arrived to see her uncles sitting in the dark.
Not Thomas and Derek, thank God, but Luci and Elfo.
“Hello, Emma.” Luci said in his most serious voice.
“Wh-why’re you up? Midnight snack?” Elfo’s eyes darted around the dark room nervously.
Emma lit a torch. “Uncles. I assume you know why I’m here.”
“You’re running away!” Elfo blurted out.
Emma nodded once. “Glad to see you’re up to speed.”
“Okay, listen up. Your parents are going to freak out.” Luci said, hopping up onto the table.
“Dad will freak out.” Emma corrected. “And then he’ll understand, because you two are going to tell him I’m coming back.”
“Why drag us into it—wait, you’re coming back?”
“Once I find a blind nobleman who doesn’t mind having a woman who can fight for a wife, yes.” Emma said.
Luci gave a growl of frustration. “You’re seventeen! Why do you need to focus on marriage?”
“Because it will give me something of my own!” Emma shot back. “Some way I can be valued! As more than just the daughter of Tiabeanie the Great, the daughter of the breaker of the Siege of Bentwood, as more than just, ‘well, she’s pretty, but have you seen her younger sister?’”
“Okay, who’s making those comments about Addie?” Luci asked. “Give me names, and I’ll give them to your dad.”
Emma pinched the bridge of her nose. “That’s not important—stop giving me that look, I handled it! The point is that I need to go find someone capable of loving me.”
“You’re seventeen!” Elfo echoed Luci from earlier.
“My mother was fourteen when she met my father.” Emma pointed out. “Same age that Addie and Freddie are now.”
“That is in no way relevant!” Luci huffed. “She didn’t marry him until—no, you know what? She didn’t even like him until she was nineteen. As a person, not even romantically!”
Emma shrugged. “I never said I’d marry them immediately. I’m just going to find them.”
“You’re going to go find some asshole, and just hope he improves within a few years?” Luci demanded. “Alone?”
“Of course not.” Emma huffed. “I’m leaving with the Bentwood delegation. Two days ago, Prince Merkimer asked my parents if they’d consider King Lorenzo II as a husband for me. Now, they said he’s too old, but presumably by traveling around, I can find someone willing to marry me. In the future.”
“How do you even know that?” Elfo asked, scandalized.
Emma squirmed uncomfortably. “The twins have a secret passage that they use behind the throne room to listen in on conversations we’re excluded from.”
Luci gasped. “I don’t even know you anymore. Sneaking around, running away—maybe you’re not just Girl Pendergast!”
“Thanks, Uncle Luci.” Emma deadpanned. “You two are welcome to come if you want, but I’m leaving.”
Elfo looked at Luci. “If we go with her, we can stop her from falling in with a bad crowd.”
“Elfo? We were the bad crowd.” Luci deadpanned.
“You were! I wanted to keep Bean good!” Elfo gasped.
“No, you wanted to mold her into what you wanted, and you wanted to… hey!” Emma was pulling bread out of the cupboard.
“Sorry, I thought you two were busy arguing.”
She didn’t seem sorry at all.
“Do you really trust us to keep you safe?” Luci asked.
Emma snorted. “No. But you’ll still worry about my safety, won’t you? So why not come?”
“You’re just trying to get us to not rat you out to your parents, aren’t you?” Elfo asked. “…actually, Bean from when we first met her would probably be proud.”
“But current Bean’s going to be mad.” Luci pointed out.
“Are you two with me, or are you going to go back to sleep and pretend this never happened?” Emma asked, before squinting at them. “How did you even know I was planning this?”
“You’re not the only one who can eavesdrop.” Elfo pointed out. “We heard you and Merkimer chatting.”
“Why would you ever agree to go anywhere with a strange man old enough to be your father?” Luci asked.
“Well, because he’s an animal, and my parents seem to trust him enough to let him near my and my siblings?” Emma tried. “If you’re so worried, why didn’t you tell my parents?”
Luci crossed his arms. “We wanted to trust you—”
“We totally did.” Elfo replied.
“And that. Yeah.” Luci agreed.
Emma growled in frustration, then turned on her heel, dousing the torch in a bucket of water used for potential fires in the kitchen. She then stormed out of the room.
She didn’t encounter anyone else as she slipped down to the port, though as she approached the Bentwood ship, she saw torchlight and heard raised voices.
“I’m telling you, she’s not here.” Merkimer whined.
Emma cursed under her breath, strapped her bag to her back firmly, and waited to make her next move.
“That doesn’t mean she won’t turn up.” Pendergast snapped. “What were you thinking, telling our daughter you’d ‘take her to see the world’?”
“Do you listen in on all of your guests?” Merkimer asked. “That’s bad behavior.”
“No, but Luci and Elfo were the ones listening anyway.” Pendergast snapped. “Where’s our daughter, Merkimer?”
“I don’t know! She must have decided to stay in your warm, smothering arms!” Merkimer squealed.
Emma peeked out from behind a corner. Pendergast was glaring up at the ship, crossing his arms.
Bean was massaging her temples. “Merkimer, what did you even want our teenager for, anyway?”
“As I said, my brother—”
“We told you we’re not marrying her to a twenty one year old—one that has his own kingdom, when she’s set to rule after Bean!” Pendergast snapped.
Merkimer rolled his eyes. “As I recall, you married your princess when you were twenty two. And she agreed with your assessment, she said something about finding a man to love her or something.”
Pendergast looked like he was going to explode. “She…! She’s seventeen—why would—what did you say to her?!”
“Pen! Pen, calm down.” Bean said. “Why don’t you take the guards and go check around for her? I’ll stay here.”
Pendergast calmed down a bit. “Okay. Okay…”
He and most of the torchlight moved away. Emma shifted uncomfortably in her hiding spot, until Bean called, “You can come out now.”
Emma poked her head around the corner again, to see her mother looking right at her. “…how’d you know I was there?”
“Because you’re as stubborn as Pendergast, and just as subtle?” Bean raised an eyebrow. “And I saw you coming.”
Emma flushed, and came out from behind the house.
“Amazing. Think of what a pair we would have made—” Merkimer began.
“Shush.” Bean told him.
Merkimer shushed.
“Why do you feel like you need to run away?” Bean asked softly. “You… you’re not like me. You have responsibilities, you’re good with your siblings, your father and I have always tried to give you so much love… why…?”
“Because performing my duty still doesn’t mean that there’s anything that’s mine.” Emma said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, and ready to launch into her speech.
Bean stopped her. “Okay, maybe you’re exactly like me. Do you really want to go see the world?”
“More than anything.” Emma said.
Bean pulled her into a hug. “Okay. Okay, then. Go, with my blessing. I’ll talk to your dad. Come home in a few months though, okay? And send letters. We love you so much, Emma.”
Emma leaned into the hug. “I love you too, Mom. Um… Dad’s going to be okay, right?”
“Oh yeah.” Bean grinned, pulling away. “You’re just his favorite, it’s going to be a bit hard for him to adapt to your absence. Go on.”
Emma walked up the gangplank.
“Glad to have you aboard.” Merkimer said.
“I think you should raise anchor before Pen gets back.” Bean grinned.
“Oh, yes, of course. Captain! Make ready to sail!” Merkimer called, trotting away.
Emma waved at her mother as the ship pulled away until she could no longer see her.
Merkimer trotted back. “Now, princess… since I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart, I have a favor to ask you.”
“Yes, sir?” Emma asked.
Merkimer bowed his head. “I mean this in an entirely platonic manner, but could you see if a kiss from you—by no means does it have to be on the mouth, indeed I’d prefer if it wasn’t!—could you just see if it breaks my curse?”
“Why not on the mouth?” Emma asked. She didn’t particularly want to kiss him either, seeing as he was old and a pig, but still, why was he objecting to her?
“Because you’re old enough to be my daughter and your father has enough reasons to hate me.” Merkimer pointed out.
Emma relaxed. “Oh. I thought it was… the face.”
“That’s not for me to say, my lady, but… confidence makes everyone more attractive.” Merkimer pointed out. “If you worry about that sort of thing, I’m not telling you for my benefit. Again, as old as your father, if not older.”
“That’s… a very kind thing for you to say, Prince Merkimer.” Emma leaned over and gave him a quick peck on top of the head.
Maybe it was the words—few had called Merkimer kind before, and even less since. Maybe it was the kiss. But a bright light began to shine, so bright that Emma had to shield her eyes.
Both Dreamland and Bentwood were in for a massive shock.
Fin