Normality seemed stranger by the day, long gone were the minor grumbles regarding the curse, people had now, long accepted who and what they were in the past; while few, claimed they never changed. Killian Jones or preferred my his more colourful moniker Captain Hook stood proud at the helm of his ship watching over his crew with enquired observation. Too long had it been since there last journey, allowed to wander the streets and dare he say it? Acquiring more civil means of creating wealth and prosperity? None like the riches they once pulled in, plundering lands and showing the women there what /real/ men were made of. Yes - a lot had indeed changed.
Smee, for all purposes had returned to his snivelling cohort, he was hardly proclaimed the most trust worthy, picking up any deal in which his life would be spared but he knew where his loyalties laid.
"Alright men! Stand to attention" with a captivating smile, Killian signalled his hook towards port side of the ship towards the established gangplank. A cloak covering a petite frame taking, measured well placed steps stood solemnly near the edging of the entrance as if waiting for permission to come fully aboard, a darkened shadow towered over her almost over protectively. "This is Lady Grace and her Father, Jefferson -" Shoulders rolled back, strengthening posture with, arms out stretched to offer an adequate salute.
Expressions fixed and focused upon the pair as Hook waved two fingers urging them to advance. "They are both to be treated with dignity and respect"
"Aye aye Captain"
Jefferson's fingers tightened around his daughter's shoulders, looking around the half circle of men surrounding them, his eyes showing mistrust. He hadn't forgotten how they man handled him all those years back, each face bringing back a hint of familiarity, albeit his own cockiness had attributed.
"Clegg! Hayes! Head down to the dock with Mr Smee here, to gather their belongings and have them moved to my cabin, keep in mind; I plan to set sail before the rain sets in"
Killian's hips moved undulate as he proceeded to the stairway carrying an ostentatious demeanour. Arms already spread as he gave an accommodating bow.
"Lady Grace ... Jefferson ... May I welcome you aboard my ship? She's a fine vessel, served me well just as these unlikely lads. I'd trust them with my life."
Grace chortled, smiling widely as Jones reached over tugging down the hood of her embroidered cloak. His smile matching hers in width and how genuine it appeared to the outsiders watch. Jefferson's grasp loosened, allowing a shy and perhaps embarrassed Grace to return a curtsy. The men previously surrounding them had taken the opportunity to disperse moving back to new or previous tasks, leaving the trio to converse.
Killian's relationship with her father was new but only by the label, they'd had a difficult past as most friendships - companionships did. It was hard for both to admit deep feelings but there was /something/ between them.
- / * \ -
Their bags were assembled against the far wall of the cabin as they entered. A few home comforts found place on the few shelves and spaces around the room adding a more lived in feel and near the bed ... A framed image of Jefferson and Grace. One more mystery unveiled.
"You sleep here? But where are I and papa going to sleep?" The young pre-teen questioned, a pout forming on her lips.
Jefferson's could feel his cheeks burn with a noticeable red tinge, eyes shifting awkwardly between the pirate and the floor. That first night Killian had agreed to stay over replaying in his mind, shoving his lover out of the bed in a far less then gentlemanly manner to blindly and awkwardly procure some undergarments. From that point on, Grace was made to believe that Killian resided within the spare room.
"Your papa is to take my bed and I the floor. As for you my dear, you're to take the spare room conjoined to my own."
Grace was quick to retort "But – but you're the Captain, we couldn't exp ..."
"And you my dear Grace, you and your father, are my honoured guests. With the history between me and your Papa, I could hardly consider myself a gentleman if I was unwilling to offer my finest to those I consider myself close too."
Grace took a moment to comprehend the spoken words, her father had appeared happier within himself since Killian had made appearance. The secret smile he had only shared with her crept onto his lips as he looked onto the pirate; eyes softening to reveal the inner calm. Tilting her head the twinkle in her eye had not gone unnoticed.
"My papa has had a few sleepless nights because of some bad dreams, I've tried my best to help but you're going to need the practice – he seems too appreciate cuddles when he's upset. Just promise me you'll be careful of your hook?"
Moving towards the stacked bags, the cherub faced pre-teen pulled out a patch work doll, holding it close to her chest while stroking the yellow, woollen hair with the palm of her hand.
Killian was still trying to make sense of what she was had just implied as the pair hadn't officially declared themselves as any more than friends or even as brothers in arms. Jefferson however became fixated upon the doll, watching as the legs swung slowing to a holt. The clothes or more the material triggered memories he'd buried deep – ever so nearly forgotten. Their lives back within the Enchanted Forest. He'd actually remembered making the dress from the off cuts of fabric sprawled across his makeshift work surface.
Carefully laid footsteps crossing the ships hard oak flooring and a tender touch, cupping his tensed jaw, brought the hatter back to the present.
"Gold doubloon for your thoughts -"
Jefferson shook his head, regaining some composure. "Hmm? ... Where's Grace?"
"Checking out her room, I promised I'd teach her how to sail the ship once we'd cast off, funny how her smile reminds me of the rare ones I can coax out of you!" Absently leaning in closer the pirates breath swept over the other mans cheek, his lips lingering mere inches away taunting the hatter to react. "While you ... I've other things in mind."
A meek knock teetered at the door followed by a dragged out creak as it slowly opened. A stocky rotund
individual, hidden beneath a red stocking cap peered around, quickly averting his eyes on witnessing the occupants in an almost questionable position.
"C-c-captain? The men are awaiting your order to set sail."
Straightening his posture with an almost audible hiss, Killian tugged upon his tunic ironing out the creases forming within the material. Waving two fingers he beckoned the snivelling inferior closer.
"One word out of you about what you have witnessed Mr Smee and I shall see to it they will be the last to pass your lips. Do I make myself clear?! ... Now alert the men, we sail with the tides and their captain shall be with them post hast."
