Once Upon A Time basically grabbed me by the hair this summer and wouldn't let me go. And, like I always do when I find something I love, I can't stop myself from wanting to write about it. This is an Hook/OC character because he is just unreal, and as much as I love him and Emma I really wanted to try out how an O/C romance with him would fit into Storybrooke! I had a couple of different female fairy tale characters that I was bouncing between using, but the one I finally decided on is a story that I feel just fits very well with the whole "fairy tales translated to modern day" thing. Hopefully you'll enjoy it too.
Disclaimer: Obviously, I own nothing that I write about. If I did, I'd be in the TV show causing havoc*
*sitting quietly in the corner trying not to fangirl over everyone
Enjoy!
She stood in front of him, the man who had killed her father and exiled her to the very edge of her own kingdom. He, who had stolen the crown that was hers by right and used its power to push her people down under the sole of his boot. She felt the air around her crackle and buzz with dark magic as her anger grew, and she let a smile lift the corners of her mouth. Soon, the evil that plagued her castle and her land would be defeated. Soon, she would stand victorious.
The wheels of the car screamed in protest as they twisted sharply against the tarmac of the road. The woman inside barely noticed the noise as she pulled hard on the gear stick. She just had to get far enough away, it would all be alright if she could just get away. Where? It didn't matter. Somewhere quiet, unknown, out of the way. Off the map, so to speak. Just as long as she couldn't be found. A sign whizzed past and she glanced at the painted white words.
"Storybrooke?" She said to herself as the car sped along the empty road, going well over the speed limit, not that it mattered in this deserted area. "Never heard of it. Perfect."
"It's time," she told him, voice ringing in the high – ceilinged wall. "It's time for you to pay for what you've done."
He turned and looked at her, beady eyes glinting over a hooked nose. Every inch of him radiated contempt and authority. He truly believed that he had earned the right to stand there and look down on her, like he hadn't clawed and murdered his way up there, destroying countless people's happiness on the way. He looked at her and said nothing.
"Did you hear me, snake?" She snarled, taking a step forwards and raising her hands. "This is where the story ends for you."
He was holding a thick leather bound book in his hands and he put it down, almost reverently, on a small table. Then he raised his hand and flicked his fingers, as casually as if he were flicking a speck of dust off his sleeve, and in the next moment she was flying backwards across the hall. She hit the floor as if she were no more than a rag doll, and let out a shriek of pain as her head smacked against stone.
The town should have been visible by this point. She should see houses, and other cars. But there was nothing. No sign of life whatsoever. Her foot was flat on the acceleration, she dare not slow down, not now that she was so close to an escape. The car shot like a bullet along the long, straight road and she squinted ahead. There was nothing there, and yet…
Her fingers buzzed a little, almost vibrating against the steering wheel. She frowned, and as she did, a shiver went down her spine, causing goose bumps to appear on her arms. Something caught her eye and she frowned. Was that a line of neon pink spray paint on the ground? The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Something wasn't right here. Her mind was trying to convince her there was nothing there and every nerve in her body was screaming at her to turn around, to avoid this place completely. But she couldn't stop, couldn't think, if she did she'd be caught.
Why was she so on edge? If there really was nothing there then she'd just carry on driving until she got somewhere. But still, she couldn't shake the gut instinct that she was missing something, something very important.
The fight seemed to last for an eternity, and yet he said not a word. Not when she sent him reeling backwards to avoid being cloaked in fire, not when he had her bouncing off the large stone pillars that dotted around the hall. She was slowly but surely losing this battle, they both knew it and he was silent the entire time.
Eventually she could fight no more and lay, exhausted and pained, spread eagled in the middle of the room. She couldn't even summon up the energy to teleport away, and so she waited for the inevitable. She had failed everyone. She had tried, and she had lost. He stood over her and silently watched the fight die in her eyes. She felt a little bubble of blood pop in the corner of her mouth, and almost laughed at how much the high and mighty princess had fallen. Then she saw his hand raise over her crumpled body, and closed her eyes.
The closer she got to the neon pink line, the more she had to fight her body to keep going. It almost felt like someone was sitting behind her, trying to pull her hands off the wheel, or whispering in her ear that it really would be best to turn around and drive in the opposite direction. Any other time she would have given in, but there was something about this whole thing that set her on edge. She couldn't shake the feeling that there really was something there, something that for some reason, she wasn't seeing. It was like looking for something that seems inexplicably to be lost, then realising it was right in front of you the whole time.
She reached the line, and crossed over it. "There?" she said to herself, as the feeling that had been pressing on her disappeared almost immediately. "Nothing to be afraid of. So silly."
Then her hands flew off the wheel as the car exploded around her.
She was still alive, although her state of health was questionable. She also felt…odd. Confined, like she was trapped in a box of some sort. She tried to take a step forwards and fell chest first onto the floor of the hall. He stood in front of her, still silent, still watching her. Was that, pride in his eyes? It was so hard to think properly, her mind was so fuzzy. Why did her head feel so far away from the rest of her body? She attempted to stand up and let out a squawk when she overbalanced. Then she froze. Squawk? He was laughing, and as she forced her head to look up at him, he magicked a mirror out of thin air and held it in front of her face.
At least, she thought it was her face she was looking at. Reflected in front of her eyes was a pure white swan, complete with large, heavy wings and webbed feet. The only thing that she recognised were the hazel eyes that stared back at her. She knew them well; they were her eyes, her mother's eyes. But in the swan's face (did she even have a face anymore? Or was she just a beak with eyes?) they were disconcerting, almost scary.
He was still laughing at her, the dark magician so happy with his work. Before she had even realised what she was doing, her powerful beak had snapped out and clamped onto his arm, hard enough to cause the bone to break. He roared in agony and tried to shake her off, but still she held on. Her vision was growing smaller and smaller, and she was angry, Unreasonably angry. She was almost animalistic.
His other hand flew out and he used dark magic to send her flying into the air. She would have hit a pillar but her wings flew out, completely of their own accord and propelled her wildly up towards the ceiling. She tried to let out an exclamation of surprise, but all that came was another harsh squawk. Trying desperately to gain some element of control over her new-found ability, she managed to unsteadily land.
He was angry now, she could tell. The creature he had cursed her to be was not as weak and powerless as he had hoped. But he was not defeated yet. Turning on his heel, the magician raised both hands, and the great stained glass windows which stood at the end of the hall, behind the thrones that belonged to her, flew open. A gust of wind, ten times stronger than any breeze that could be created naturally, barraged into the hall and encircled her. No matter how desperately she beat her wings, the hurricane was too much and she was pulled out of the hall and thrown over the cliff, hurtling towards the rocks below.
Somehow she managed to pull her wings free of the wind and reared up just in time to escape the sharp stones and crashing waves. She wasn't just flying, she was soaring through the air, and there was something exhilarating in it. As the castle that used to be her home came back into view over the cliff, she saw the archers. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of them, dotted along the parapets. She blinked, and looked again. They weren't even human, more like vaguely human shaped wisps of smoke, and the princess realised that they had been conjured from dark magic. This had been his plan all along she realised, stomach dropping. He wanted to take away her identity, who she had grown up believing she was, turn her into an animal and take her to slaughter.
Well she'd be damned if she let him. Her father had always told her the importance of knowing when to fight and when to flee. She was no use like this, it was time to run and hide. In the blink of an eye, she had turned tail and was flying back over the endless sea, going as fast as she could to find shelter. In the ever increasing distance, she heard his voice as he yelled an order, and heard the sound of thousands of vicious black arrows being released from their bows. She began swerving wildly, trying not to become an easy target, and prayed to anyone that might still be watching over her, that she survived.
It was hot and cramped, and the smoke that filled the air made her cough uncontrollably. The first thing she could register was that she was twisted in a very unnatural position, and her arms and potentially one of her legs, were broken. But she felt no pain. She felt light, unnaturally light, as if she could float away at any moment. She blinked, everything seemed to be moving very slowly. On reflection, perhaps she shouldn't have driven so recklessly in the middle of the night, if it had been the day someone may have been around to help. Her head was beginning to droop. She was so warm, and so tired. How long had it been since she'd slept? Certainly a while. She could sleep now, then find help in the morning. Yes, that seemed sensible.
Then, there was a great scraping moan as the metal roof of the car, which had been dented and pressed so close to the top of her head, was ripped away. She frowned and tried in vain to move her head, as spots of bright torch light shone on her face and her eyes. She just wanted to sleep. There was noise in the background, people talking? Or was it the ocean? Very distantly, she felt herself being pulled out of the wreckage of her poor car, but she was far too tired to think about what was happening. Someone was holding her against their chest, someone with a scratchy jacket but a warm body, so warm. It was a comforting combination, and she liked that they were holding her so gently, like she was precious cargo. She felt herself letting go of the last remnants of consciousness as somewhere, a dog started barking.
He made a noise of disgust and threw himself away from the window. It looked like she was too fast for even his arrows. Damn her! She had always had an uncanny knack for escape. It seems he would have to think of another plan to finally rid himself of the last surviving member of the royal family. Then he could finally rule in peace. He took a deep sigh and let himself relax. He could think about the troublesome princess another day, now was the time to celebrate in his victory. He had won the battle after all, he had managed to perform the curse with no trouble - although he should have known better than to turn her into a bird that could crush a man's arm with minimal exertion, not that it was any effort for him to fix his broken arm, he was the Dark Magician - and any support the Princess may have had, any sign of uprising from the scum that lived in his land. was now effectively crushed.
His land. It felt wonderful to be able to finally say it. The plan that he had laid so carefully, so slowly and delicately, had been pulled off without a hitch. He was the victor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the book that he had been perusing when the Princess had barged without invitation (although entirely expected) into his Great Hall. It was a beautiful manuscript, bound in the finest leather money could buy. Palace scribes throughout the centuries had carefully added to it over the years, each design more beautiful and intricate than the last. He used a little magic to turn it to the last page that had been added to, the page he had been looking at before.
It was a portrait of the Princess. The two previous pages held similar portraits of her parents, the two before her grandparents. It was a stunning, priceless family tree. He looked down at the painting. It had been done a little over three years ago, on her thirtieth name day, but she hadn't changed a bit. She was beautiful, any idiot could see that. Her features could not have been more perfect if she had been born from magic itself. Her thick, dark hair was pulled back into a braid that was falling apart in all the right places, and framed her tanned skin perfectly. She had a lot of her father's features; the high, arched eyebrows and the long straight nose, but it was her eyes that held others captivated when she spoke. They were almost doe –like in shape, large and oval, with pupils that mixed the colours of dark chocolate and emerald green together into an enchanting combination. They were her mother's eyes, and he felt something ugly twist in his stomach as he thought of her mother. On instinct, he reached out to turn the page and look at the portrait of the old Queen, but stopped himself. There was no point bringing up old, painful memories.
Besides, he thought, soon he wouldn't have to look at any of them. It was almost bittersweet, really. He lifted his hand one final time, and held it steadily over the portrait of the young woman. It began to fade, from the outside in, until there was nothing but a blank page left. He smiled darkly as he felt all knowledge of the Princess disappear from every book in the castle. When the spell reached completion, there would be no information about the Princess that could be found for love nor money. And soon enough, when the people of his land died and were replaced by their children, and their children's children, they too would forget about this Princess, and the family that had come before her. There would only be him, their immortal King, and they would be bound to his will, sworn to fight his wars. He couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face at that inevitability.
"Farewell," he hissed, "Princess Odette."
As far as updates go, I really have no idea. Sometime within the next week, definitely, and then once I've got a few more chapters written and a clearer idea of what the heck I'm actually doing, I'll try and set myself certain days when I WILL update.
Please, if you enjoyed it, didn't enjoy it, have constructive criticism for me or even want to help me with the plot, do let me know by leaving a review. They're so much fun!