If it hadn't have been humiliating enough to have failed in his attempt at revenge, Killian Jones had once again found himself bound by the Swan woman and her compatriots. Led out into the woods, their magicians set forth a portal, and shoved him through, effectively banning him from their world...for what seemed forever.

If it hadn't been sickening enough to lose, he was going to be sent back to that desolate land...without a ship, without a crew, without anything.

If it hadn't been bad enough, the very demon he'd come to destroy had visited him in the holding cell, no doubt to get in one last gloat.

"Successful trip, pirate, I must say..." Mr. Gold had hobbled, quite dashingly to his cell door, as though he were nothing more than a dapper gentleman out for an afternoon stroll.

Despite how much he wanted to get a good swipe at the beast, his hook had been one of the first things confiscated. Killian's bum arm hung loosely at his side, and he'd shrugged. "Yes, well, I hate to cut and run, but you know how it is...have to leave them wanting more."

"Oh, indeed." Gold had said with a somber nod, and grasped one of the bars, a sickeningly sweet smile spreading over his features. Killian could practically see the monster still instead of this man, and his lip curled, loathe to have him so close without a sword in his hand. "And I would be remiss if I did not give you a little going-away present."

Without another word, Gold had seized his good hand, yanking him further against the bar. The demon's grip was stronger than he'd given him credit for. No matter how he'd thrashed, Gold had held tight, and muttered some sort of incantation. Finally, he was released, and Gold turned to face him again with a rather pleased expression.

"What manner of magic is this?" Killian growled, holding up his hand to examine it. His palm burned dreadfully, right in the center.

"Why Captain, you don't know?" Gold almost appeared shocked, earning a poisonous gaze from the pirate. "Soon, that little treasure will garner you a one-way ticket to your fate. The Locker. That's the black spot, Hook...I assume you know what that means..."

Killian looked down at the cluster of sprawling black boils raised over his palm now with grim curiosity. Out of the many ways he could've died, he had never considering it being at the hands of Davy Jones himself.

And nor would it, if he had anything to do with it.

While the black spot was as certain of a pirate's death sentence as a sword to the neck, it might also be diverted. His soul, as bitter and hardened and putrid as it might be nowadays, was worth about as much as an ant under his boot. A series of sins to atone for, surely, but Davy Jones was a greedy creature. If Killian could bring him a soul that was relatively untarnished-a soul that was weighed not by its misdeeds, but from the good it had brought into the world...

Well, he'd be sitting pretty. Or at least live another few years.

The problem was the land he'd escaped from was desolate-very little remained of the splendor that once was, now that practically every creature to have ever graced its ground was in quaint little Storybrooke, leaving him with very few options to choose from. He'd be damned if the last good months he'd had in his life would have been in that over-excitable hamlet.

Which had led him here, to the Sands, and the last-known place harboring a lost soul.

The land was desolate, by any stretch of the imagination. Anything of green was now withered and brittle, easily cracking against the desert breeze. And there, just ahead, was the grand palace.

Once a sprawling, majestic masterpiece of a fortress coated in glorious jewels and glass, now saw in absolute ruin. It appeared there had been some sort of wind storm, as the glass had been blasted from their position, littering the ground outside. He could almost imagine the string of carriages, well-dressed royals and their footmen strolling up the steps and into the great hall. He could almost hear the music, singing sweetly even over the roar of the party.

Now, now it was silent as the dead. His boots echoed off the stone and dried sand as he strode through the cracked entryway. No doubt all the treasure had been picked clean long ago by vagrants and thieves of a lesser caliber, and he made a small sound of disapproval. As he loved his treasure as much as any man, this palace was more like a tomb. It was almost like disturbing the dead. Suddenly, he felt the cold shock of metal against his neck.

"Don't move."

Killian obediently froze in place-what choice had he, when a blade was pressed against his throat? He held up hand and hook, hopefully barring any attack the feminine voice would wage against him.

Feminine voice.

He glanced out of the corner of his eye, and very carefully turned his head, catching sight of the young woman. Twin braids still draped over her caramel curls, though the diadem seemed long gone. She'd adjusted the lavender gown higher on her legs, binding them over her knees, no doubt to allow herself easier movement around the castle ruins. Her face seemed...harder, than when they'd last encountered, but there was no doubt about who this was. Killian smirked when he saw the recognition flash across her features.

"Hello, sweetheart."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You." Aurora whispered. Out of all the creatures left behind in their world, he was the last she expected to find in her domain.

"Me." Killian allowed, arching a brow at her. "I don't suppose you'd mind lowering-"

"Silence!" She growled, pressing the blade further against his throat. Again he raised appendages. Carefully, she leaned forward to draw his sword from its sheath, pressing that, too, against his throat. She had him, and she wasn't giving him an inch.

Of course she'd take his sword. "By all means, call that a gift." He said dubiously. "A sword to greet me, though? I've never felt so honored."

"I need no sword to handle you, pirate." The former princess spat venomously, but she made no move to lower the blades. "But I find it too satisfying to have taken you off guard." And then her smug smile faltered—he was grinning at her! "What, may I ask, is so amusing?"

"You are, Princess." Killian gave her a winning smile as he leaned over the crossed blades. "You have not yet had the satisfaction of my sword." Without a word, he pressed his lips to her own, and used her distracted state to rip his sword from her grasp.

With a cry of outrage, Aurora shoved away from him and swung her blade, the cry of metal against metal echoing in the destroyed hall. "How dare you?!" She snarled, swinging again. "Implying that I would -ever-..."

"And nor will you, with that attitude!" Killian laughed as he once again blocked her blow, delivering one of his own. He wasn't intent on hurting her-perhaps scaring her a bit. And it had been so long since he'd had a proper fight. "Look at you, grown up with a sword and all! Careful or you'll prick your pretty fingers!"

"I'll prick something alright." Aurora snarled and slashed at him, managing to cut a slit through his doublet. "Oh, dear, look what I've done to your lovely clothes. Pity it wasn't your skin!"

Killian arched an unamused brow down at himself and sighed. "As much as I would love to continue this, love, I've no more time for games." As she swung at him, he crossed her blade, and curved it around and away from his face, using his hook to catch her gauzy sleeve, tugging her forward. He ignored her gasp, her struggle against him. "I've come for you, Princess."

"For me? What value am I to you?" Aurora grunted as she shoved against him. "My heart is not for sale-let me go!"

"Oh, such a temper." Killian rolled his eyes and released her sleeve, instead moving the flat of his blade around her back to pull her flush against him, his hook grasping the sword and holding it, and his prey, in place. "I've not come for your heart, I said I came for you. I'm taking you away from here."

"I'm perfectly content where I am, thank you."

"Are you, then?" Killian arched a skeptical brow at her, and glanced about at the fallen columns, the cracked and destroyed thrones settled at the furthest end of a frayed ornamental runner. Sand settled in piles and hills without care. How many times had they held grand balls here, held court here? "Lovely home you have, but I should think you could do better. Consider it, Princess-"

"My name is Aurora!" She snapped, wriggling and writhing in his arms to dislodge herself.
"Aurora, then. How much longer do you suppose these walls will hold? They look to be standing on naught but your optimism as it is, and the longer you stay here, the more likely you'll be trapped under them someday. There is also the matter of company..." He couldn't help but feel smug at their close proximity. "I'm an excellent friend to have."

Aurora blew a tawny lock from her face, settling her heated glare on him. "Yes, I noticed when you left me and my companions to rot in a cell..."

"You're never going to let that go, are you? Whatever happened to 'water under the bridge'?"

"I assure you, Captain, were we near a bridge, I would gladly shove you off the side."

"Ah, so you were the bleeding heart of your family, hm?" Killian chuckled at her growl. "You are lonely here, Princess. Whether or not you will admit it, I can see it in your eyes."

"Why?" Aurora ceased her struggles for the moment, her frustration and confusion furrowing her brow. This man was a snake in the grass-manipulative to his core, and if she let him lull her into a false sense of security once more, she would surely end up sorry. "What do you need from me so badly?"

Killian tilted his head to the side at her, wondering what she would do if he touched her face. Probably bite him. "Let's just say I owe you a favor." He'd stolen her heart-that was true enough. He did owe her...and would owe her even more if he played his cards right. Unable to help himself, he leaned in a bit closer, the tip of his nose nearly brushing hers. His voice lowered to a near-whisper. "I can take you away from this place...show you worlds full of such wonder, such magic..."

Breath seemed to have escaped her, and Killian could practically feel her heart racing away inside her chest. Those eyes were transfixed, almost mystified. And he had the pleasure of seeing her roughened demeanor falter.

"I've had my fill of magic..." Aurora began, her tone not quite as certain. Only, she didn't want to owe anything to this pirate. She didn't want to put her life, literally or figuratively, in his hands. Not again.

"Oh?" Killian shrugged and pulled back from her, sheathing his sword with a metallic ring. "Well, then I'll be on my way. Leave you to your...humble abode." He turned without another word and strode from the hall.

And cursed himself. Perhaps if he hadn't been so keen on the fight, he might've convinced her more easily. She could already be on her way with him...they could already be halfway toward the shore. Halfway to the demon baying for his blood.

"Wait!"

Killian paused, and the grin swept over his features. He'd almost forgotten how trusting the princess was...how naive she could really be. Time, nor what had transpired hadn't hardened her as much as he'd thought. Sobering, he turned to cast her an almost disinterested look. "Yes?"

She stood at the top of the stone steps, breathless from scurrying over the length of the hall and the rubble covering it to find him before he'd disappeared.

"What sort of worlds did you mean?"