You never forget the first time you meet The Dark Swan.
Some called her the Dark One, or the Dark Princess, but Killian always preferred the Dark Swan.
There was something delicate about the name, delicate and deadly.
According to his brother, she was younger than Killian, coming into such a roll just hours after her birth. Even as a child, he had heard that no one would survive her wrath. No one survived to tell about seeing her.
When Killian sees her for the first time, she is nothing like he expected. There are no fangs or scales or blood at her feet. She wears a ratty blue dress with eyes puffy from crying. Her wrists are chained to the ground behind her as she curls around herself in a defeated heap.
He may have thought her dead save for the simple fact that he can see her chest rise and fall slowly in every breath. Such a simple fact surprises him. He had been told that she was not human, not mortal, so just the fact that she breathes astounds him.
He is hesitant in his first steps toward the maiden, hearing the echoes of the rumors swirling in his head. Even though all he sees right now is a battered and broken woman, he still remembers the warnings he received from his fellow sailors. He still fears her, even hurt and defeated.
The monster . The devil's spawn .
He heard she once ripped off a man's head for whistling disrespectfully at her.
Never go near the tower. Her screams will drive you mad. If you get close, she'll rip out your heart and keep it for a while, keep you at her mercy until you are no longer you. Then she'll kill you.
Killian has never been one for risk, never one for adventure. That was always his job . His role. Now that he is…gone, Killian is just a deckhand. He shouldn't even be here. He should be swabbing the deck, coiling neglected ropes, anything but standing here . With her .
Her eyes flash open suddenly. He nearly jumps back in panic. Her wild eyes never quite meet his. She stands up, pulling on the restraints with a mighty cry. It's loud and angry. . Her cry is a familiar one, a sound known by all sailors who dare to sail too close to her tower. The shackles clang against each other as she isn't quite strong enough to free herself
Her screams will drive you mad.
His judgement says to turn around and go back from whence he came, to go back and pretend none of this ever happened. Perhaps those who locked her in here will just let him be if he doesn't free her. Perhaps he will be safe. Perhaps he'll keep his heart and mind in one piece. It is rumored after all, that the Queen will tear out the heart of any who oppose her, of any who even think about freeing the beast.
He could sail back to his port, apologize profusely to the Captain, and plead for mercy. He is still sore from the last time he was disobedient, but he knows this time will be far worse. The Captain won't settle for just smacking him around the deck or delivering superficial wounds. If he doesn't return with his ship, Killian will be put to death for sure.
But the sight of her pulling and pulling against the chains, yelling curses and wordless pleas…it's sad and desperate. He feels a pang in his heart, a pang that keeps him rooted to his spot. Because even with the warnings, with the horror stories spinning in his head, the very threat of a painful death, Killian only sees a woman trapped against her will, trapped and in pain. He can't leave her. Long ago, he let down one just like her. He was too afraid to do anything. Perhaps this time he can help her.
But she is a monster, she isn't…she is a killer, a murderer. It isn't the same thing. The Dark Swan isn't Milah.
He takes a step toward her, hesitant, wondering what he had done to get into such a mess. What had he done that keeps him from turning his back on the Dark Swan? He should be running away in terror. Any sane man would be quaking in his boots, fleeing. He himself trembled when the Captain gave him an order, so why is he not afraid now? He doesn't know.
"Hello?" he says, drawing her attention to him. Her blonde hair is matted and wild like the mane of a lion. She looks up from beneath it, a miserable glare in her eyes.
"Who are you?" she practically growls. "A new guard perhaps? Come to see the mythical Dark Swan Princess of the realm?" He flinches back at the cruel tone of her voice.
She is definitely no Milah.
Milah, the wife of the town hero, was always kind to a bumbling fool like him. She would laugh at his attempts at humor, kiss his cheek, and make him promise to stop enraging the Captain so much. She was never cruel.
Yet here he is, freeing The Dark Swan, something he could never do for her.
"N-no. I'm…" He looks down, trying to collect his words, but he can't. He's too mesmerized by the green in her eyes. He'd assumed from the stories that they'd be red, or dark, not a peaceful green color.
"Spit it out," she snaps as she stalks toward him, making him flinch in fright. She's smiling now, a vindictive smile. She looks pleased with her actions, pleased to have caused him fear. She tries to take another step toward him, but the chains rattle, and he knows she's at the end of her rope. She tries to pull against them stubbornly, but can't. He can hear her cursing under her breath at them, then at him, then at her parents, then at the world.
Kilian swallows and bites his tongue, gaining an ounce of bravery and planning to put it to good use. He thinks what he would do, sliding on the persona like an unfamiliar glove.
"I've come to save you. I have the key to those chains of yours, but if you don't want it, I'll gladly give it back to the lass residing over your tower" he says quickly, half turning to leave. A part of him hopes she'll just let him go.
Her form goes rigid at his words, the chains slackening ever so slightly. "What?" she exclaims, shocked. He grins, quite liking the flash of softness on her face. It suits her better than the scowl she had previously. Such a beautiful face shouldn't have such an ugly expression.
"Why?" she asks skeptically as he approaches her slowly, both hands open in a soothing gesture, the key ring held against his palm by his thumb. He wishes to let her know that he means her no harm. He simply wants to help.
Her skin is soft and cold. He can feel her uncertainty as he places the key in the lock and turns it effortlessly. His thoughts begin to wander to how long she's been here, trapped, alone, afraid that she'd be all alone for the rest of her life, afraid that he'd be swabbing ships for the rest of his.
"No one deserves to be trapped in a life they don't wish to live," he says before he has a chance to think about his words. The shackles fall away, making her hiss as the raw skin beneath contacts the cool, salty air. It makes him jump back, worried that she will strike out against him. Judging by the look in her eyes, he half expects her to leap and rip out his throat.
But she doesn't. She looks at him gratefully for a moment, but stops.
"What do you know about being trapped?" she spits under her breath, stepping away from him. Her pale hands rub against her wrists. He tries to keep his hurt at her sharp reply in check. Killian assumes gratitude is in order, not hostility.
He moves toward her instinctively, much to his surprise. His mind is screaming to run and not look back, to continue his efforts to survive. Being around her is a risk to his life. He has to stay alive.
But at the same time, it's important to him that she know his words aren't empty. They aren't spoken blindly and stupidly. It's important for her to know that someone really does understand the feeling of being trapped.
"I know more than you imagine," he snaps back, harsher than he means to, harsher than he should dare. "I know that being trapped, physically or not, leaves the soul vulnerable, leaves it open to hope for something better. But then whatever is trapping you reappears, pulls you back, rubs you raw, and then all you have is bitterness."
She is going to kill him for his bluntness. He can see it now, her beautiful complexion morphing into that of a fiend before she cuts his throat and laughs as he bleeds out.
Her eyes soften briefly before she turns away from him, caught off guard by his words. "Bitterness and anger," he adds, because if he is going to die for his words, at least have them be complete.
He didn't intend to bare his innermost thoughts to the princess trapped in her tower. He intended to free her and be on his way, not contemplate the woes of the trapped while risking his life and sanity.
Yet at the same time, he likes the look she gives him when he speaks his mind, hesitant with a touch of disbelief, eyes like piercing flames. He looks away after a moment feeling like if he watches her for too long he will surely be burned.
"Let's get out of here," she snaps, leading the way even as her feet stumble slightly. He feels like offering her a hand, but guesses that if he acts like she needs more help than he's already given, she'll turn on him.
"As you wish," he says instead.
8/20: Newly edited by my beta Notoriouscs.