The Price of Freedom ➸ Captain Swan

6. The Jolly Roger

So, I apologizing for not updating earlier. I know I promised that I would at 90 votes and 550 comments, but that was reached sooner than expected, and I was anything but ready for that. So, I am unfortunately just now getting around to it. Maybe next time I should set a higher goal! ;)

Anyways, I'm sure you all get bored of my rambling... So here it is!

Emma had booked a room for the night at the tavern. She didn't want to get drunk, she didn't want to see any men more drunk than they already were, and she definitely didn't want anyone to try anything on her. She couldn't sleep though, hearing the shouts of the people downstairs. She was tired, she should be, but her excitement was getting the better of her. So, after two hours of laying there, being tormented by her thoughts, she went back into tavern.

Emma was surprised by all the people that were there now, and she grimaced.

She was used to large crowds, she had been to hand fulls of balls—but unlike balls, these people were very unsophisticated, very wild, and very drunk.

She stood there for a moment, taking in the sight until she saw August charging to her. She tried to sink back into the shadows, not really wanting to talk to him at the moment. She turned her back to him, and pulled her hood up, but it was too late. He had seen her.

August pulled on her arm, turning her to face him.

"Emma," he said with sadness in his eyes and voice.

Her eyes widened. "How do you know my name, I-I didn't tell you."

August bit his lip, realizing his mistake. He hadn't wanted that to slip out. Not yet.

Emma looked at him, eyes flaming, "How do you know my name?" She repeated, her voice hard. Then fear entered her eyes. "Do you know who I am, too?"

August cast his glance downward. "Yes," he said solemnly.

Emma clenched her fist, her head was a swirl of emotions. Fear, anger, but mainly curiosity.

"Who are you?"

August looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "I already told you-"

"No, no more lying! I know that we've met before, but I can't remember where. You just, ugh, I can't place it, but you know something I don't. So spit it out. You know who I am, yet I didn't tell you. You got mad at me for joining Hook's crew, but we met just yesterday. Why would you be so worried about me? So, I'll ask you again... Who are you?"

August closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Pinocchio."

Emma looked at him in complete and utter shock. "No. No, no, no. Pinocchio is dead. I don't know who you are, but don't try to use my best friend against me to get whatever it is you want. You won't get it," she said, taking a step back. It wasn't that he was pretending to be Pinocchio that bothered her, it was that she knew he was telling the truth.

"Emma, I swear-"

"No," she said again, tears brimming her eyes. "You aren't him. He died eight years ago. You look nothing like him. He had red hair, and bright blue eyes..."

At that moment, she realized that it was him. Her best friend from her childhood was standing right in front of her. Living, breathing, and healthy as ever. She could tell by his eyes that she looked deep into, and saw the same playful and curious look that had always been there.

"Emma, it's me," August inhaled deeply, pain etched across his face.

"But... How? You—you were gone," she covered her mouth with her hands, and looked at him intently, trying not to cry. He held out his arms, and she rushed into them without any second thoughts.