Frozen Dreams
Bargains with Conscience
Killian Jones was a man of freedom. He was used to the endlessness of the sea, the possibilities that lay ahead of him, the feeling of his fate being in the strong grip of his hand... That's why he was craving death more than anything right now, locked up in the prison so far underground, he felt like the weight of the whole world was suffocating him, draining his life drop by drop.
King James and his Queen refused to pass judgement on him, giving up this heavy duty to the little Princess whose heart he had stolen, unfortunately, not in a romantic way. It was a few months ago and he started wondering if this was his punishment, being buried alive in this impromptu grave, forever forgotten.
He was sitting in the darkest corner of his cell, contemplating his future that seemed darker than he ever imagined, when he heard the quiet pitter-patter of a pair of small feet and a thunderous clatter of armour. He stiffened, trying to catch the words out of constant murmur, too quiet and too loud for his unaccustomed ears.
Finally, his guests reached their destination, standing right in front of him, straining their eyes in the unyielding darkness. They came carrying a single torch, their faces hidden under the thick fabric of dark coats, but still recognizable for him. He stood up, unwilling to show them his weakness, to give up yet. He heard a soft gasp, escaping the lips of his visitor, rage welling up inside him, urging him on.
He is standing right in front of them, arms crossed on chest defiantly. He looks them both up and down, a familiar smirk on his lips.
"Whatever brings you down to my modest shelter, miladies?" he asks, his voice rough and too weak for his own likes.
They look at each other and the higher one shrugs, ripping the hood from her head, looking him straight in the eyes, hate and despise written all over her face. The smaller one is more careful, more gracious in her movements and her face is a stony mask, not an ounce of emotion on it. He falters a little under her gaze, unnerved by her, by the steel in her eyes, but catches himself instantly. They came here to pass sentence on him, after all. And he will face it with dignity.
Princess Aurora (or is it Queen now that the fairytale is restored and everything's coming back to normal) clears her throat and steals a quick glance at Mulan, her loyal guardian, before taking a few steps forward, her slender body just a few inches away from the bars of his sell. He shifts a little, hit by the sudden realization that she is more beautiful than he remembers, as he curses under his breath.
"Captain Hook", she starts, her eyes never leaving his. "I came here not to pass my judgements, but in need of your assistance."
Assistance? Has she hit her head on her way down here? He looks at the warrioress for confirmation and she nods slightly, a strange look on her face.
"Cora said something..." Aurora continues, her eyes closed now. "She said, that the souls consumed by the Wraith... they can be brought back." She looks at him now, her mask slipping, a spark of hope in her eyes. "Could you possibly know something about that?"
He contemplates it for a moment. This could be interesting.
"Are you willing to bargain with a pirate, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice a sweet poison, his eyes glinting dangerously.
She merely nods, one hand gripping the bar. He lets a bark of laughter.
Yes, this is, indeed, interesting.