Hi! I started this story sometime after Good Form, while working on BMHD, but never got around to posting it. I just saw that someone posted a similar idea to this, but I am in no way drawing any of my story from theirs. There is no curse, it is completely AU and Killian/Hook grew up during Emma's time in Midas's kingdom along with his brother. Rated M for now, there will be cursing and some smutty moments ;) Enjoy and let me know what you think! :)

One.

Two.

Three.

Don't look back, and no one will suspect a thing.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Hood up. Act natural.

"Did you hear about that petty thief?"

"The girl who stole from a guard?"

"Aye, that's the one."

"One hundred gold pieces for Emma Swan."

"Boy, I'd love to get my hands on her."

"She'd be a real reward, other than for just the money, if you catch my drift."

The laughter bleeds her ears, as she attempts to remain incognito. Hood drawn up over her head and golden hair tied up tightly, twenty year old Emma Swan tries to ignore the bumbling drunkards a table away from her at the Tawny Tabby Tavern. It has been days since she has eaten a single meal, so tries to pace herself, keep control and not devour the steak in front of her like a wolf. But her stomach is burning with need for sustenance. Of course being an outlaw on the run will do that to you.

It is hilarious that she would follow in the steps of her mother as a bandit. Snow White and Prince Charming wanted to raise their only daughter in the high life as a princess, but fate had other plans. Fate allowed her parents to get captured. Fate forced her to abandon her family and friends and resort to stealing in order to survive. Fate forced her to be a wanted girl. Dead or alive. King George does not care. Fortunately for her, he is not aware that Snow and Charming ever had a child.

So Emma finishes her meal, paying and snatching a few coin purses along the way to the door. Her brown cloak in place, over her not so feminine black trousers and maroon shirt. If fate was in her favor, she would be in a corset and unbearable pink dress awaiting suitors to sweep her off her feet. She mentally laughs at that thought.

Her current home is no castle but a small hut deep in the woods. Temporary but provides her with security none the less.

Passing by the docks, she overhears a few sailors amidst their drunken rambles by a few barrels.

"They say the new captain is taking in new recruits."

"Captain Jones? Aye I heard King George has a mission for him.

"Do you know where he's recruiting?"

"Tomorrow Morning, first light at port."

Emma continues by, sighing. She has heard of the many adventures sailors recounted and wishes she could have gone and joined them. But that is not the life destined for her, and that is without the reason of her being a woman. Until she can formulate a suitable plan to free her parents, she is stuck, here in this kingdom.

On the bright side, today has been prosperous. Spotting her horse by the edge of the forest grazing, she fiddles with the souvenirs of today's conquest, jiggling with her every step, in her leather pouch. A sack of coins, a gold dagger, a pocket watch and a compass. All discreetly snagged from an oblivious noble man she 'bumped into'.

"Hey Cinnamon." She smiles, patting the brown horse on his head. He snorts and then nuzzles his head into hers. "Let's go home boy."

Mounting her steed, she takes off covered by the darkness of the night, pulling her cloak tighter around her body as the cool wind nips at her face lightly.

At seventeen, she stumbled upon a loving family. A man with his daughter willing to take her in. He was considered an outlaw himself though running from a different royal, Queen Regina. Definitely not an innocent or pure woman, Regina also searches high and low for the daughter of her mortal enemy. Or son, because she never discovered the identity of the product of true love...

Her treaty with George is simple, lock them away, keep them alive and keep them out of her sight.

But Jefferson was a kind man, his daughter Grace only slightly older than her, setting out to be married to a young man named Pinocchio. They treated her like family, like she belonged.

And to their home is where she must head now. Her home.

It's not much. A simple shabby old hut with a leaky roof and many hats hogging all the hooks. Her bed is many old flour sacks filled with grass, tightly packed together and her meals are whatever Jefferson, Grace or Emma could afford to steal.

The forest starts to thin out and Emma can smell home nearing. It smells like burning wood and tea. Supper must be ready.

But the glow that begins to emanate in front of them looks not like an illuminated house, no... it looks like... fire.

"My house! How could you be so cruel?" Jefferson's voice shakes.

Peering from the branches she can see the whole structure engulfed in flames.

"Consider it punishment."

Five men on horses bearing black armored costumes stand on guard as the hatter and his daughter look up in fear.

"On what grounds?" Grace cries defiantly.

"You've been harboring a fugitive, wench. Where is the thief Emma Swan?"

"We know not of anyone by that name." She crosses her arms over the beige dress she is wearing.

"Is that so?" The guard laughs. Gripping the girl by her arm he stares at her while licking his lips. "Then by the name of King George, we will take care of you until you do remember."

Uncaring that he is one man against five, Jefferson projects his person towards the guard but is easily pushed down into the filthy ground, as the swine traps Grace between his body and the head of his horse.

It pains Emma as she leads Cinnamon quietly away from the scene. But she has to stay hidden. Under no condition can she give herself away in order to maintain hope that she will find her family. This is her sacrifice.

There is no way she can start a new life. There is no way in the seven hells that she will let herself continue this life as a runaway. A criminal. Her parents taught her better than that,, but then again her parents left her no choice. She has no home, no family, it is not like she could go and find a nice farm boy or blacksmith to settle down with. No. She needs to escape, to be free. Free from George. Free from a life of running.

And then it hits her. The waters. The sea.

Freedom.

A ship.

The Jewel.

I can join the crew, escape from George. It would give me time to seek out allies of my parents.

Her plan puts a smile atop her face.

But there is just one problem.

She is a girl.

And girls do not join the Royal Navy.

Sitting beside Cinnamon, she empties everything from her person onto the plush grass below. Strips of cloth, bottle of poppy powder, a flask, the coins, the compass, the dagger, the pocket watch, and most importantly a pendant passed on from her grandmother Ruth, to her mother Snow, to her. Snow had told her of its magic ability to predict the gender of the child she would conceive when the time was right. But first, she needed to find her true love. Like that's going to happen with George at her tail every minute.

But this... this right here, is not an impossible task. She can do this.

Stripping off her shirt, she grabs the longest strip of cloth she has and begins binding her breasts. And it is not an easy task. She has to look flat, and that is nearly impossible when her curvaceous chest threatens to spill out at every moment. Her castle maids used to do this for her when she was young, right before she went sword fighting. Unfortunately, as she was much younger then, binding was much easier.

Once the painful process is over, she ties off the fabric and puts her shirt back on. Flat, yes, but she still looks like a woman, with her long golden strands flowing down her back.

Her parents used to complement her hair constantly, forbidding maids from giving it more than a trim. So it feels like a betrayal when the blade of her dagger runs through, reducing the length to her shoulders. Sighing, she ties her hair back in a small ponytail, hoping that this is the right price to pay for freedom.

The sun peeks over the horizon, cascading small flickers of warm lights over the kingdom. On a large magnificent vessel, two brothers prepare to dock and start the beginning of a heroic journey.

"Good morning little brother." Liam smiles straightening out the edges of his coat. A few of the crew mates give a nod of respect towards the young captain, but return to their former duties instantly.

Everybody loves Captain Liam Jones of the Jewel of the Realm. He is kind, honorable, determined, strong and bold. There is not a man of the kingdom who has earned more respect, even their king. But above all, there is not a soul who loves Liam more than his younger brother Killian. A complete opposite from his brother, where Liam was reckless, Killian was cautious. When Liam drank at taverns Killian retired below deck for some midnight reading. He is the boring brother. But also, the single one, the dashing one. The brother all the young maidens swooned for.

"My sources say Olivia's father is willing to give her hand in marriage. She fancies you, you know." Liam winks.

Right, marriage. Killian thinks with a sigh. Olivia is a fair girl wanted by many men throughout Killian's hometown, but she always had her eyes on him. Unfortunately for her, the opposite could be said about him.

"Olivia is a nice girl, but I am just not interested in marriage yet." Killian replies, maintain his rigid stance. Would he like to find true love as his brother has with Kaleine, also known as Mrs. Liam Jones? Have a loving doting wife to bear him a beautiful mix of the two? Of course. In fact he would even settle for less as his little sister has, living with the man she has loved forever but cannot bear children with due to a treacherous curse placed upon them. But right now, Killian believes in good form. In serving the king.

"When is the last time you've been with a woman Killian?" Liam asks and he almost believes his brother is referring to bedding a woman, until he sets sight on his stern look. "You need to find someone; I'm getting a little envious of my single and free little brother." He winks.

"Maybe my heart belongs to the sea." He looks out to the kingdom growing closer and closer by the second. Killian Jones secretly craves love, but no woman has captured him, enticed him. So for now he will remain a faithful and loyal officer.

The Jewel of the Realm is well named for it is certainly a real gem. Sturdy wooden planks of enchanted oak compose its frame, while its top sails stand tall and magnificent against the winds. The crew within her work long and hard listening to the orders of a man who's face remains unseen by Emma's emerald greens.

Emmanuel Jamison is the name she decides to go with. Last night she practiced deepening her voice and changing her stance and walk to a more manly configuration. And with her breasts bound and her hair cut, and not a speck of makeup, she feels that she can be passed off as a man. A very handsome young man if she can say so herself.

And now, she stands in a row awaiting the arrival of the captain and his Jolly crew to disembark from the creaking vessel, to hopefully approve of her as one of their own. Because she needs freedom, she craves it.

Slowly but surely, man after man sets foot upon the land and approaches the awaiting candidates. Eight slots are in need of filling, after the last voyage took many casualties, and fifteen sailors await judgment. Each of the crew aboard the Jewel sports a blue navy jacket atop a white billowy shirt and vest with matching white pants. Black leather boots click against the wood of the docks with each stride of each man and a sword hangs on the side of their hips.

You're definitely not going to a ball Emma.

Another man steps foot upon the port and she notices how rigid all the men become, straightening their posture and looking far ahead into the abyss.

Must be the captain, Emma thinks, falling into line with the rest of them, looking straight ahead. Except it's not. And when he speaks, Emma cannot help but steal a glance. Because his voice, oh God his voice, is screaming for her to look.

Take one peek.

And what she sees takes her breath away.

He is handsome, undoubtedly so, with sea blue eyes and dark brown, almost black hair and features she'd hear her maids describe of dashing young men they had met in the local village. Except he exceeds them, all of them. No man has yet strike her. No man has ever made her toes curl or her stomach twist or...

"Oh God..." She lets out a slight moan and the young man in uniform spins towards her, stopping amidst his rant about tolerating good form aboard his ship. Automatically, her eyes widen in realization to what she has done, and she freezes as his sapphires pierce her emeralds.

"What's your name sailor?" He growls firmly.

"Jamison, Emmanuel Jamison, Sir!" Content washes over her as she effectively deepens her voice to something more masculine compared to the turned on, aroused squeak she let escape her before.

"Well, Mr. Jamison, is something the matter?" He's so close that if she moved slightly they would be kissing. Their breaths mingle and she can smell the sea on him and hints of rum as well, despite the earlier scolding on a man who had some on his person. "Because it's bad form to interrupt your superior officer." God he's attractive, even with the whole authority crap. Oh my God Emma! You're a man! Start acting like it!

"Nothing is wrong, sir. Though I would prefer if you wouldn't share what you had for breakfast, with me." She says with attitude, because that's what males did right? Have a pissing match, measure their dicks. "Sir." She smiles.

"That's Lieutenant Jones to you, Jamison." He barks, but she can see him crack a small smile.

"Recruits giving you a hard time, little brother?" A new voice enters the scene. Definitely the captain, Emma thinks, as she takes in the bulky man marching proud and receiving awed glances from every man nearby. But one other thing catches her attention.

Brother?

Oh shit! I just pissed off the captain's little brother! There is no way I'm getting on that ship now.

"Hardly, one of them just seems upset that he hasn't reached puberty yet." The lieutenant retorts.

Emma, hold your tongue.

"Besides, there are too many men here, and one boy." He adds with a mocking tone towards Emma. A booming laughter is heard along the dock. "They'll have to earn their place aboard the ship."

"Well, Killy, I trust you to help me make my choice." Captain Jones laughs, causing Emma to grin slightly at the tightlipped officer being addressed as Killy. "Listen up men! Our voyage is going to be long and dangerous, so we need eight able bodied men who are willing to lay down their lives in the name of King Midas. Your leader, King George has made a deal with our King and graced us with permission to do so."

Emma looks around to assess her odds in actually being chosen. To her right, two men stand young and scrawny, not to mention identical. Twins with pale skin like the ship's mainsail and freckled boyish features, placing them as the youngest of the bunch, probably a couple of years Emma's junior. Their hair is coarse and sandy and eyes seaweed green.

Next to them is a rather tall man sporting a stern look. His skin is dark and aged from the sun, and you could tell he was a fighter by the large veined muscles surrounding his corpse. It seems as if this bald man is the only one not affected by the lieutenant's commands as his dark eyes stay calm and equally dark mustache does not dare twitch.

Which is quite the opposite in the case of the fool to her left; whose teeth chatter faster than the speed of Emma's beating heart and it is beating quite fast.

Blame it on the young dashing lieutenant, who despite his attitude has Emma's eyes trailing his every movement. He starts from the end of the line, eyeing each man, studying them by build and age. His first target is an elder who he tells to take two steps forward. He skips the next in line, a middle aged man with skin darkened from the sun. This pattern continues until he reaches Emma and with a smirk also tells her to advance. The foolish shaking boy next to her also remains at the back.

"Those of you at the front... congratulations," He begins pausing for dramatics. "You get to go on another day away from the face of danger." Emma's pride deflates watching the idiot beside her light up. "The rest of you, if you would please, head towards Mr. Harris for your uniform."

This is not fare. Besides the fact that she is a woman, a minor detail that is hidden from everyone anyway, there is absolutely no reason that she shouldn't be chosen. Trained from a young age to handle a sword and bow and arrow, she could fight alongside the crew. Her body is strong and quick from the years alone being a thief. And yet, the scrawny boy whose bones were as strong as toothpicks trots up to Mr. Harris.

"Are you kidding me?!" Emma growls lurching forward in a decision to give Lieutenant Jones a piece of her mind. He turns around with a mix of bewilderment and amusement on his face, while mostly everyone else watches intently.

"Something ailing you, lad?"

"Lad? Are you fucking serious, Lieutenant? I'm the same age as you!" Emma fumes. Then she turns to fool who stumbles on his feet going up the plank. "You're choosing Clumsy over me?" This is an outrage. That boy would not last a day on a perilous journey, she has endured danger her whole life.

"The fact remains Jamison," The lieutenant slices each word. "That you are too immature and defiant to be allowed aboard the vessel."

"Oh so you chose someone clearly incapable of going on the ship over me, because I have a sharp tongue and what? Hurt your ego?"

Don't punch him, Emma. He's just an asshole with a good body and face you want to kiss to shut up.

Whoa! No kissing...

Even though he is handsome...

Do not go there Emma!

"Hang on." The Captain walks forward, towards his brother, looking at Emma intently. "I like this one. Could be useful, brother. But tell me Mr. Jamison, can you fight?"

"With one hand tied behind my back." Emma says lifting her chin.

"Is that so?" Killian laughs. "Well, then Jamison, by all means, prove your worth." He turns to the clumsy boy calling out to him. "Mr. Thomas, care to engage in a little duel?" The boy fumbles at his words.

"You want me to fight him?" She exclaims.

"Why? Don't think you can handle it?"

"Please!" She chuckles. "A fourteen year old girl could beat him." Which in all fairness is a true statement considering she was quite the fighter at that age.

"You seem quite confident boy." The captain assesses. "Are you are a good enough fighter to beat my brother?"

"I am."

Satisfaction flows through Emma as Killian's eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. The rest of the crew laugh at her words, and even the Captain seems to be amused.

"What makes you think you could ever beat me lad?" Killian tries to keep his cool.

"Don't think you can handle it?" She mocks. Why are you baiting him Emma? Why?

"Alright lads, let's not quarrel like women. Show us your skills then Jamison." Liam's voice interrupts, and Emma can't help but wonder over his choice of words. "Let's make things interesting, shall we?" He slaps a hand on his brother's back. "If Mr. Jamison wins, then he is allowed aboard my ship. And if he fails, then this conversation is done for."

Killian chuckles looking back at who he presumes is the shorter, skinnier man, and unleashes his sword to the morning glow.

"Well I hope you're prepared to head home, because you are going to lose sir." For a stern, professional man of the navy he sure can be a boisterous ass.

"You overestimate yourself Lieutenant." She snaps, accepting the sword offered to her by one of her crewmates. It's dull and not shined up like Killian's. The balance is off and its definitely overused. Narrowing her eyes, she readies herself for a fight.

Grinning an ever so prim and proper smile, he rolls his eyes and then without warning lunges at Emma. But she is prepared for the strike and easily blocks it and moves out of the way. Memories of dueling with her father remind her that someone with a lithe small frame must focus on footwork and agility. Her petite form gives her the advantage to move more and dodge blows. Metal clashes together furiously as Emma and Killian continue to spar. The crew root and cheer as the Captain laughs on at his brother.

But Killian is getting restless and aggravated at this sailor's games,, at the boy's nerve to dare challenge him, at his brother's will to mock him and never take him seriously. So he let's out a roar like sound and attacks Emmanuel with all his might.

Emma is temporarily stunned, but recovers quickly. She spots his weakness and goes in for the kill. He is wearing himself out, so focused on attack that he leaves himself vulnerable without defense. Ducking under his arm at a particularly heavy hit, the naval officer ends up barreling into a stack of wooden crates drawing audible gasps from the crew and the small crowd of villagers that has accumulated to watch the entertaining fight. Killian growls pushing himself up, because there is no possible way in the seven seas that he will be undermined by a petty village fool, but Emma wastes no time, cradling the tip of his chin with the edge of her blade.

"Yield." She says firmly, trying to remain as masculine as possible and not let out a gleeful feminine laugh at her stunning yet easy victory. Men. So cocky and in over their heads, ready to react on impulse and high vanity, which makes her ponder over her vary calculated and strategized actions.

"You cheated boy." He grits, looking her dead in the eyes. So much for being liked by all of the crew. There is probably nothing she could do to win the good and proper lieutenant over, unless of course, she was to use her feminine wiles against him which is not an option. But how dare he accuse her of cheating? Is he so dependent on his reputation that he must find any excuse possible that would save him from being deemed the loser of a simple match? Her deadly glare responds to his insulting accusation but before her words can elaborate, the Captain steps forward, placing a hand on Emma's shoulder, easing her stance and lowering the blade away from the young lieutenant.

"Now, now, I believe Emmanuel has earned his keep aboard the Jewel. After all he has knocked my little brother off his feet." He let's out a bearish roar of a laugh that is echoed amongst the crew, as Killian embarrassingly turns his head away. Emma feels a flint of regret and offers her hand out to help him up, which he blatantly ignores, standing up without aid, not wanting his ego to be tarnished anymore.

"I hope you don't plan to evoke your cheating ways aboard this ship, Jamison. We have a low tolerance for bad form." He threatens in a low tone.

"Sir, I did not cheat. If anything I simply used your flaws to my advantage." She bites back.

"You know, all new crewmembers start off with manual labor, and I was thinking the brig needed scrubbing." He gives her a cruel smile. And she hates to admit it, but he still looks devilishly handsome... among other things.

Review?

For those of you following BMHD, an update is steadily approaching... after finals... so like May 20th ;)