I'm back, and this time with Once Upon a Time!
And it's a multichapter fic!
I've found myself madly obsessed with Captain Swan lately. During this past semester (the last month, particularly), I've had this idea for a Once Upon a Time story that is inspired by the plot of Much Ado About Nothing. It isn't going to mimic it-not by a long shot-but it's my favorite Shakespeare play, and there were similarities in the way I set up the potential plot for this story that are very Much Ado-ish.
On to the story then, yes? Enjoy!
The end of Rumpelstiltskin's cane connected with his jaw, and there was no hope for Killian remaining on his feet. He went down, hard. He managed to push himself to the side mere seconds before the cane could connect with the back of his skull, rolling out of striking range before dizzily finding his way back to his feet.
He reached for his sword, but before he could draw it, Rumpelstiltskin threw a glowing orange phial into the air, where it shattered against the Jolly Roger's mainsail. Flames began spreading slowly, radially. Killian stared in horror as the sail was engulfed by magicked fire, his revenge momentarily forgotten due to the inevitable destruction of his ship. Black smoke rose into the cloudless sky.
When he was able to tear his gaze from the burning mainsail, Killian found that he was very much alone. His fury was only tempered by his desperation to salvage his vessel. Rumpelstiltskin be damned, he had to save his ship.
"Mom, is that smoke?"
Emma glanced at her son briefly, noting that he was pointing somewhere outside. When she looked in the direction he indicated—somewhere beyond the clock tower—she saw a thick cloud obscuring the clear morning sky.
"What the hell?" she muttered under her breath, waving Ruby over.
The brunette sauntered to the table, though the sway of her hips was less exaggerated than it had been before the curse was broken. "What do you need, Emma?"
"Can you stay with Henry for a bit? I can see smoke: It looks like it's coming from the marina."
"Why can't I come with you?" Henry protested as he stood from his seat.
"Smoke generally equals fire, Kid, and that amount of smoke looks like it's coming from one massive inferno." He went to argue more, but she shook her head, her expression firm. "No, Henry. Stay here with Ruby—"
"Red," the other woman interrupted.
Emma looked at her blankly for a moment before it clicked that she was being told Ruby's fairy tale identity. "All right. . . . Stay here with Red until I get back. I promise I'll call you as soon as I find out what's going on, okay?"
The boy let out a heavy sigh, sitting once more. "Fine . . . can I have another hot cocoa, at least?"
"Sure." Emma gave Henry a one armed hug before pulling on her jacket, and Red left to retrieve his cocoa. "Later, Kid."
"Bye, Mom."
She wrapped a scarf around her neck and pulled on her gloves as she moved for the exit. As soon as she was through the door the frigid Maine air began to nip at the bits of skin that were still exposed. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed the fire department, her gaze never leaving the black cloud beyond the clock tower.
Drawing his sword, Killian began to hack at the ropes that held the mainsail in place. It was a risk—the sail could simply fall to the deck of the ship and destroy the entirety of it—but it was a risk he had to take. A strong gust of winter wind began to blow the smoke inland, and he cut through the final rope with a violent swing. An edge of the sail fell, hard, atop the rail of the ship, though the majority, as he feared, remained on deck.
Heedless of the danger it posed on his physical well-being, he threw off his jacket and rushed to the raging inferno that was the Jolly Roger's mainsail. He tried to take hold of the edges that were not yet burning, but the heat from the flames overwhelmed him. Smoke assaulted his lungs and he coughed painfully. Backing away from the fallen mainsail, he stared helplessly as the fire began to spread to the deck.
Over the roar of the flames, Killian was aware of a wailing screech—the likes of which he had never heard—rapidly growing louder. When he glanced in the direction of the strange noise, he was met with flashing lights and a small herd of metallic beasts racing toward the marina, their bright red hides glistening in the sunlight. He wasn't sure what threat these… monsters… posed to him, but there was no guarantee that the demon or that Belle woman—or even Regina—hadn't informed others in the town of his arrival with Cora.
Killian sighed resignedly: There was only one option. He snatched his jacket from the deck and tossed it overboard, between his ship and the dock. He ran to the far side of the ship, away from the burning sail and the approaching beasts, and hauled himself over the railing. Taking one last look back at the flames, Killian took a deep breath and dove headlong into the icy harbor.
The water felt like daggers, sharp and unrelenting as the cold penetrated to the bone. The air left his lungs in a gasp just as he reached the surface. He struggled to keep his head above water, his limbs numb and weak. His heart pounded in his ears as he forced his body to move toward the bow. His breathing was short and quick, and he couldn't hold the air in his lungs but for a moment. He turned on his side, cursing his hook with every useless stroke his left arm made.
The progress Killian made through the water felt as if it took ages, and he was rapidly being sapped of the adrenaline he'd had an overabundance of when he'd jumped ship. He reached the bow just as the beasts' wailing reached a crescendo. A wave of relief washed over him as he reached the dock and swam beneath it. The metal monsters' cries quieted, only to have their foreign sounds replaced by the familiar shouts of humans.
Now, where was his coat?
Emma's muscles were tensed as the firefighters worked. It was lucky they had brought all three trucks out: They were having difficulty controlling the fire with just the one engine's hose. They scrambled to find pumps around the marina that could support the amount of water they needed.
Emma wandered to the edge of the dock, near the bow of the ship—the heat of the flames reached even there, and she barely felt the winter chill unless the wind picked up. She peered into the water below, oranges and yellows dancing in the dark, polluted waters. Sunlight reflected off of something in her periphery, but when she glanced toward it, it was gone.
If not for the flaming pirate ship just feet in front of her, she would have chalked it up to her imagination. Getting down on her knees, she leaned over the edge of the dock and looked beneath it for what she suspected had caused the glimmer of light, but found nothing.
Perplexed, she rose to her feet and turned back to the firefighters. The fire was still burning fiercely; smoke billowed from the drenched part of the sail that hung precariously from the railing. The sail was charred and blackened, and the sickly sweet smell of burning hemp mixed with the acrid odor of burning wood wafted through the marina.
The question of how Cora had managed to find her way to Storybrooke had at least been partially answered, and Emma's ever-present suspicion that she hadn't come alone had been confirmed. This was certainly not Cora's ship, so that left only one possibility: Hook was in Storybrooke.
So where the hell had he disappeared to while his ship sat burning in the harbor?