Snowballs (lieutenant duckling)

Notes: Answering a prompt/request from nummygraphics on tumblr for "lieutenant duckling in winter time. maybe like a super cold winter and and he's acting like a prude so she throws snowballs at him or something. idk i just want christmasy lieutenant duckling even tho i know they more than likely didn't celebrate christmas in the enchanted forest". Ask and ye shall receive. Also, the terms I used to replace 'Tuesday' and 'Christmas' came from Wikipedia.

Summary: Princess Emma has watched Lieutenant Killian Jones for a long time. She knows he has been doing the same, when he thinks she can't see. She decides to command his attention at the most wonderful time of the year.

My first time writing lieutenant duckling, so please be gentle.

I don't really know what this is. I may add more, or I may not. Not sure right now.

Enjoy!

In the year that he has been sneaking glances at her during dinners and balls and ceremonies, Lieutenant Killian Jones, the most straight-laced and prudish officer in the Royal Navy, has never once attempted to speak to her, much less relax in her presence.

Princess Emma Swan, the most rebellious royal in all the realms, wants that to change. She sees something in him; a fiery passion, a suppressed tempest, a glowing potential. She wants to know what it is. She wants to figure it out. She wants to fan the flames and watch them burn.

(That's what she tells herself, burying the little flutter that her heart gives when she catches him gazing at her as if she is a siren and he is a besotted sailor)

He spends so much time admiring her that he doesn't realize that she's been watching him back, memorizing his mannerisms, storing his schedule, mastering his methods. She knows where he goes, when he goes there, and why he chooses to go there at that time.

And on every Day of Mars (he calls it a 'Tuesday', some strange quirky term he learned from some land without magic he went to on a royal commission) he walks through the orchard, hoping to catch a glimpse of her on her balcony.

But today she will not be on her balcony. Today is the day before the Midwinter Holiday Festival (which is apparently called 'Christmas' in this other realm he enjoyed so much) and magic is in the air. Literally.

Emma lifts her hand, concentrating on her desire to know him and the anticipation for the prank she is about to pull (which will hopefully loosen the ties of his britches and remove the stick up his ass). The pile of snowballs she spent all morning packing tightly trembles.

He enters the clearing right on queue, eyes trained on her balcony overhead, waiting for her to appear and gaze out across the landscape (secretly watching him in actuality).

She grins and flexes her fingers. Three snowballs rise from the pile.

(The fun is about to begin)