AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is an AU take on a Princess Emma and Captain Hook tale. Milah's appearance has been altered to fit with this story. All characters and places belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended with the creation of this story.
Killian Jones was a man of determination and patience. He needed the two traits to live as long as he had, especially in Neverland. The only thing that could fuel his seemingly never ending battle for vengeance was the anger he felt. The all consuming need to rid himself of his anger by skinning the crocodile that robbed him of everything.
And the way for him to dull that anger, if only for a moment, was to drown himself in rum. However the amber liquid that spilled from his cheap tin mug wasn't anything he could lose himself in. He may look young but Killian Jones knew his drink. He sighed into the poor tasting alcohol and stood, avoiding the sleeping drunk that decided to pass out right next to the corner table he had grabbed in the tavern.
He wove in and out of the fights and loud conversation, focusing on the barmaid he could charm to give him the better rum. He made it to the bar without joining a single fight, which he took pride in, and whistled for the woman's attention.
It took a record two minutes to not only convince the barmaid to give him the better alcohol but also to join him in the room he had rented upstairs. He may be on a quest to avenge his lost love but he was a man after all and meaningless sex was the game he was best at.
He waited in his dark corner once more, nursing his precious cup, and watching the barmaid work. She gave him an hour before she could escape with him for the night and he smirked into his cup. He knew he would leave this one like all the rest, early in the morning with no goodbye. It was the way he worked and he would never let himself get close to a woman. He couldn't risk repeating the past.
After the hour had passed, and Killian could feel the rum taking affect, the barmaid sauntered over and held out her hand for him to take. He stood and placed his hand at the small of her back, guiding her through the maze of men. When they reached the stairs he turned around out of habit to scan the room one last time. When his eyes fell on a familiar blond head he felt his heart stop.
He knew it couldn't be her, it wasn't possible, but the rum in his system guided him into other ideas. He wanted to run down the stairs and grab her, hold on tight, and never let go. He left the barmaid on the stairs, ignoring her calls to him, and let his feet carry him across the bar.
The woman he had set his eyes on stood at the bar, shifting from foot to foot. She was clearly nervous and backed away from several men who had made loud comments about her. In his drunken state Killian almost buried his hook deep into each man's neck.
He finally stumbled to the girl and grabbed her arm, spinning her around. His heart hammered in his chest as familiar green eyes stared back at him. His eyes grew wide and the girl stood shocked for a moment at being man handled in such a way. He smiled and her, finding his hand had already moved to cup her cheek.
"Milah?" He whispered her name and she stared, transfixed for a moment before her perfect green eyes narrowed on him. He felt the sharp point of a dagger trained on his most intimate area and he froze. He couldn't understand why Milah was treating him like this and the alcohol that hummed in his veins refused to see logic. This was his Milah, returning to him at last.
She finally opened her mouth a speak and Killian could focusing on nothing but her lips and the things he would like to do to them.
"I'm not this Milah girl," she spat out, "and I would appreciate if you would be so kind as to remove your hand from my face."
"You're not Milah?" The rum spoke for him as he let his hand drop back to his side. Slowly the dagger was removed and hidden once again. "Who are you?"
She stood for a moment and he could see the decision to tell him the truth was rolling around her head.
"I'm Emma."
He smiled at her once more, feeling a light euphoria wash over him.
Emma.
Emma Swan was a girl of stubbornness and ingenuity. These two traits always came in handy, however they clashed horribly with her life. She was a Princess, the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, and the sole heir of her kingdom. So in that manner, her rebellious streak was severely frowned upon.
It wasn't that hard for her to get past her guards most of the time. They were usually busy with watching the different women coo at them from afar. Emma had to roll her eyes most of the time at their antics but she would never bring it up to her parents. If they found out how idiotic her guards could be under the influence of a pretty face she would never be able to go anywhere on her own.
Earlier that morning they came running as Emma woke from her recurring dreams with a scream. As she reassured them she was safe her mind continued to wander to her dream world. Constantly she was transported to a ship, a pirate ship, and the open waters. The scent of the ocean continued to linger around her and she could see the silhouette of a man on the ship. He reached out for her and every time she got a glimpse of his face pain seared though her chest and she woke up.
In the late afternoon, after her parents had met her for dinner, Emma was able to slip away in record time. It only took three minutes for her to scale down the vines unwisely placed next to her balcony and get to the tree she kept her street clothes in. She had to stop for a moment and breath as images from her dream bombarded her. She touched her lips as ghostly sensations reminded her of an imaginary lover. She shook her head, trying to focus on the task at hand.
From there it was easy to walk through the forest and get to a main road where she could follow it to the small town outside the palace. She frequented the tavern too many times for her to count and they never mentioned her uncanny resemblance to the princess.
When she finally reached the tavern it was several hours past sundown and she craved a mug of ale. She entered the warmth of the tavern and smiled a little to herself. In this place she wasn't treated as a fragile doll, instead her fierce temper was known by most of the daily patrons and any new men that tried to sweep her off her feet were well aware of it by the end of the night. She double checked that her dagger was concealed in her sleeve and proceeded to the bar. Her hood fell off on the way when an overly drunken man made a grab for her arm. Her dagger at his throat made a quick end to his advances and she gave him a too sweet smile.
She slipped through the crowd and made her way to the bar. As a couple of men made too loud comments about what they would like to do to her she shifted on her feet, deciding whether to ignore them or confront them. Just as she had decided to put an end to their comments a warm hand gripped her arm and spun her around.
She found herself staring into a pair of blue eyes that were strikingly familiar. She studied his face for a moment as the surprise passed through her mind and anger took root. How dare this man touch her in such a way. He was going to pay for that. Suddenly his hand came to her cheek and his calloused fingers were sending shocks of aching familiarity through her.
"Milah?" He whispered to her and she could remember his voice but not place it. It was so familiar yet she knew she would have remembered a face like his. Her dagger slipped into her hand and she pointed it downward, letting it sit near his thigh. His eyes widened in surprise and she mentally congratulated herself for besting him. The name continued to ring in her head and Emma couldn't shake the feeling that she had heard it before.
Milah.
"I'm not this Milah girl," she spat out, ignoring the hurt that flashed in his eyes, "and I would appreciate if you would be so kind as to remove your hand from my face."
"You're not Milah?" She stared at him hard for a moment before his hand left her face. Emma waited a heartbeat before pulling the weapon back up her sleeve. "Who are you?"
She stood for a moment and debated on whether or not to tell this man who she was. She figured if he was drunk enough he would not remember her name in the morning.
"I'm Emma."
He smiled at her as a predator would smile at his prey. She took a step back from him and sat down on one of the bar stools. She was prepared to run if needed.
"Killian Jones," he bowed to her, slightly stumbling, "Captain of the Jolly Roger."
"You're a pirate." He smiled at her again and she turned to the bar. The barmaid was nowhere to be seen and Emma was growing more agitated by the minute. Abruptly she got up and fled the tavern, intent on going home and putting the strange incident out of her mind. She heard the door open and close again and rolled her eyes.
Killian caught up to her and Emma fought the urge to just punch him. She wasn't stupid though and caught sight of the hook he had tried to hide from her view. She knew if she started a fight right away then she'd lose.
"It's not safe for a young lady like yourself to be walking alone," he flashed her another smile, "allow me to escort you back to your husband."
"I'm not married," she responded quickly, annoyed that he had insinuated such a thing. She was almost eighteen and had her whole life in front of her. She realized he had asked for a different reason when his smile grew wider.
"Interesting."
"I don't need an escort" she shot back to him, stomping ahead of him and toward the wood. He caught up in only a few seconds and Emma stopped. "Do you mind not stalking me? Thanks."
She turned on her heal again and continued to walk. She didn't hear footsteps following her and smiled a little, grateful for the moment of silence.
"As you wish." The simple words floated to her and made her stop. She had heard that phrase before. She knew she had. She just couldn't place where it was the she had heard those specific words.
Emma continued to walk and for a few minutes thought that he had finally left her alone. However years of living under strict protection made her keenly aware of when someone was discreetly following her. He must have been a few yards away and Emma bent down pretending to fix her boot.
She grabbed a large stick and carried it with her for a few more feet before veering off the path and into the woods. After a few moments she ducked behind a large tree. She heard his quiet curse as he lost sight of her. She counted his steps and as he neared the tree she swung out. She felt the branch connect with his head and he fell back.
She smirked as he didn't move for a few moments, finally content with walking home on her own. She left him in the forest and made her way back to the palace, all too happy to put this bizarre man behind her.