Hello hello hello! Yes, I have a new fic but no, I still don't have an update schedule, I'm sorry D:
This fic is based on a hidden objects game series aka Dark Parables which you don't have to play to understand the plot since I'll just use the games' plots to send our favourite couple on adventures. It'll be a Captain Duckling (kind of? I don't think Emma's a "swan" yet) and Killian has both his hands, since for "his" timeline it'd be around the time he's already met Milah, so around the events of 204 but with a twist I'll explain in the next chapter - I can't just give everything away, right?
I actually don't know how long this will end up to be since I want to insert every game in this fic but at the same time move forward with the main plot - although everything is kinda related since both the game series and OUAT just relate everything and everyone :'D
Off I go, I hope you enjoy the story and... sorry about the ending, too? Ops.
Chapter 1 – death before my eyes
Killian stepped into the tavern followed by part of his crew, the rest of it probably was being entertained in some brothel or was clutching a bottle of rum in some black alley ready to down it all by themselves.
Immediately, the smell of beer filled his nostrils, piercing but tolerable, better than the smell of vomit, at least. He looked at the faces of the patrons; the cacophony of shouts, exclamations and hushed whispers didn't bother him, in fact it was a perfect accompaniment for a night of celebrations, especially after he'd just sunk another ship of the Royal Navy. He was definitely proud of himself.
«Ah! Here comes the Captain!» one of his men exclaimed raising his stein of beer, the golden liquid spilling at the movement, but the pirate seemed not to care about it.
With a clap of his hands that predicted a night full of pure entertainment and a smile on his face, Killian headed towards the table occupied by his crew, noticing with pleasure that a beautiful woman with long dark hair he'd already seen before in that same tavern had joined them. He'd asked her to leave with him after having gotten a brute off her back – well, more brute than him. That woman fascinated him, and he fascinated her, telling her about his journeys. She hung off his words, and that couldn't help but make him glad.
He'd almost reached his destination when he felt something beneath his foot, a cork, maybe, but he had to change his mind when he heard a whimper and a feral growl as his eyes met the ones of a wolf.
«Bloody hell!» he exclaimed. He never thought he would ever find a wolf there, especially not one about to bite him because he'd stepped on its tail. The animal had a white-grey fur, its ears backwards and its jaws bared beneath the table, a clear invitation to apologize and go away as fast as possible. The eyes, though, were extremely particular: one yellow as gold and the other one red as blood.
Killian Jones wasn't a coward, on the contrary, he loved a challenge, but he perfectly knew when a battle was lost, and a wolf wasn't worth losing his life, and he didn't like the idea of kill such a wonderful animal.
Besides, someone would avenge the wolf. Killian noticed almost instantly the crossbow on the table as if it were the most normal thing in the world, and he immediately sensed the eyes of the man that watched him with rage, his lips parted as he hissed between his teeth as if Killian had stepped on his tail.
His gaze wandered on the man's two companions: next to the man, with her back against the wall, there was a brunette, her long black hair was a sharp contrast to her pale complexion, but her eyes were furious, and for a moment he thought he saw a flash of yellow in her green irises, just like the wolf's. The other one, instead, was sitting on the opposite bench, had a halo of blonde curls gathered in a ponytail that fell down her shoulder, her expression tense and ready to unsheathe the sword she kept at her waist. She was dressed like a man but emphasizing, maybe not intentionally, her curves. Killian was delighted. Besides, blue suited her.
It was her green eyes that made him lose his train of thoughts for a moment, making him feel like the world had stopped and the two of them were the only ones able to move. Those green irises reminded him of emeralds, but lighter, with a brown halo around the pupils, animated by a fire he was sure nobody would be ever able to extinguish.
He imperceptibly shook his head, and the sounds came rushing back, thundering in his ears, this time in a definitely less than pleasant way. «I apologize,» he simply said, bowing his head but not daring to move, the wolf had his eyes still on him, and turn his back to him could've been deadly.
Before someone could say something, a voice from behind the counter called: «Call off your wolf, huntsman, I wouldn't want to kick you out because you make my customers run away!»
The corners of the man's mouth lifted slightly in an amused smirk, the widow Lucas' manners had never been gentler, admonishing someone without threatening him with her crossbow was something she usually didn't do.
He gave a feeble whistle and the wolf relaxed, throwing Killian a last glance before laying down and putting his face between his paws, eyes closed but body alert. The pirate was fascinated, but he knew better than abuse the animal's patience even further.
With a nod of his head, Killian headed towards his table, throwing a smile to the woman whose blue eyes seemed to return it from behind the stein.
He couldn't get those green eyes out of his mind, they'd had an effect on him similar to a spell, and a part of him thought she could even be a witch. He shook his head, it was better not to get involved with magic, it only brought death and loneliness.
It was almost midnight, three steins of beer in his body and the pirate was just about tipsy, but that didn't stop him from recognizing the uniform of the guards who entered the tavern, after all he'd worn the same colours for years.
Rage shot through him, a stabbing pain hit him in the chest and his expression hardened. He was ready to go there and cut their throats, held back just by the widow Lucas' expression, her eyes narrowed down to two slits behind the glasses, pure sheer hate radiating from her body.
«You're not welcome here,» she hissed through her teeth that, to Killian's surprise, she pulled a crossbow out from under the counter. «We don't serve your king, here.» She spat those words as if they were poison, and that put her on top of the list of people he appreciated.
He couldn't understand what the guards replied, catching a movement on his right, the floating of a red cloak in the dim light and the white fur of a wolf preceding the trio towards the back of the tavern. He looked over his shoulder, watching the three disappear behind a door covered by a curtain, clearly an escape route. He frowned, had they wronged King George?
Without thinking twice, Killian stood, leaving the woman he was telling one of his adventure to with a frown and an offended expression on her face. He didn't care, he had to know. He strode past the last tables, lifted the curtain and opened the door, finding himself in a dark alley. He closed the door behind his back, searching for a clue that'd tell him where the three went in the calm night.
He'd taken just a few steps when he heard voices, hisses and whispers he still managed to perfectly understand.
«You can't keep running, Emma,» the voice of a woman said, worry emerged from her tone like a blade from the back of a man did.
«I can and I have to, Red,» the girl who must've been Emma replied, resolution – or was it stubbornness? – in her voice.
«Ruby is right, Emma, you must go back to your parents, this has been going on for too much time.» This time it'd been the man to talk, and he seemed to want to make Emma reflect.
Killian heard snort slightly. «Of course you agree with her, Graham, she's your wife.»
«That's not the point.»
A sigh. «I know, sorry,» Emma whispered, and Killian asked himself if she was the blonde one. She must be her, it was almost as if the name belonged to her, and as for Ruby – or Red – well, one dressed in blue and the other in red, and unless she hated her own name, the brunette must be her. «I need to go away from here, though. I didn't think they'd find me in so little time.»
«Isn't that your family's motto? I will always find you and things like that?» Ruby tried to joke about it.
«He isn't part of my family. My father isn't his son and you know that.» There was repressed anger in Emma's voice and Killian couldn't help but connect the few information he had obtained until that moment. If that woman was telling the truth, that made her…
Something warm and soft caressed his hand and he started, hissing a curse. He should've imagined that the wolf was their silent guard, but since he couldn't see them, he'd thought it was with them.
He couldn't hear their voices anymore, knowing the three now were aware of his presence. The wolf clutched his hand between its fangs without sinking its teeth but tugging him with force and making him stumble a little. Killian knew that if he didn't follow him now his own blood would bathe the pavement.
«Who's there?»
Killian was greeted by the sight of the man with a crossbow pointed towards the end of the alley, the blonde with a sword in her hand and the brunette with her hands threateningly tightened around the laces of her cloak. Seeing that, even if he shouldn't have, he arched a brow, ironically. With a smirk and his hand still trapped between the wolf's fangs, he bowed deeply, moving his free hand in a theatrical gesture.
«Captain Killian Jones at your service.»
The brunette, Ruby, it seemed, relaxed her grip on the cloak and made a movement with her nose as if she was… sniffing him. «Sea, leather, spices, rum, beer. Pirate.» Killian didn't like much the way she said that, as if she despised what he was.
«What did you hear?»
Killian shrugged, looking at the nails of his right hand. «Ah, nothing important,» he said. He wanted to know, though, because there was the chance that the girl, that Emma, was the key to his revenge.
«Let us establish that,» the blonde replied, heading towards him with her sword trained on him, her grip firm on the hilt. He noticed with just a glance that the weapon was of perfect workmanship, one that, had he found it, he would surely keep for himself.
«Emma…» The huntsman's voice was warning, a distinct signal that something was wrong.
«How many?» she asked without looking away from Killian, maybe she found it impossible to do so just as he did.
«Ten,» Ruby replied, untying the cloak and throwing it over some barrels piled up against the wall. The wolf let go of Killian's hand and moved back, merging with the darkness.
Emma tilted her head on the side. «Go back to your woman, pirate,» she commanded, on her face a shadow of apprehension. It was obvious she didn't want him there, especially because she didn't trust him. How could he not understand her? He wouldn't trust a pirate either if he had eavesdropped a conversation that much interesting.
Only then he noticed that, instead of the brunette, next to the huntsman, there was a black wolf, bigger than the other. He gulped, knowing he should walk back inside, all of that was something definitely bigger than him, something he didn't have anything to do with.
Or at least it was so until ten King George's guards appeared in the alley. He wasn't a coward, he wouldn't back out, not when there was something that could help him avenge his brother.
«Ah! Jones!» one of the guards exclaimed, and Killian recognized one of the men he'd attended fencing classes with when he still was in the Navy. A flash of anger crossed his face as he brought a hand to the hilt of his cutlass. «Thank you for making our mission easier, even if I would've never expected it from a traitor like you.» His tone of voice was mocking and tinged with disgust. Then, on the man's face bloomed a mean smile. «And, please, tell me, how's your brother fairing? What's his name? Liam, am I right?»
Before Killian could even move, the grey wolf jumped on one of the men in the second line, it'd apparently reached the lowest roof for a surprise attack.
That gave Killian time to react and pull out his cutlass. He strode towards the man who'd addressed him, Randall or something like that, hate in his eyes that reflected on his features.
The black wolf had already bled out two more men biting their throats while the huntsman and the blonde fought shoulder by shoulder, every their movement coordinated as if they were dancing.
For his part, Killian clashed his cutlass with the captain of the guards', the one who had dared to pronounce his brother's name with disdain in his voice. Liam had been a man of honour until his last breath, died at the hand of the same King he'd sworn to serve. He grit his teeth, only focusing on the hate he was feeling in that moment, nothing charged him up more.
«And here I thought you would run away with your tail between your legs,» Randall sneered as they circled around each other, isolated from the rest of the battle as if they were in an entire different world. «And now I find you confabulating with the enemy. What would you brother say? Oh, yes, bad form!»
With a roar, Killian threw himself on the man, cutlass clutched so tightly in his hand his knuckles were white as snow. He struck, nicking him in the arm, Randall's expression now angrier, but not as angry as Killian's, nothing could compare to the hate he felt towards that corrupted King and his underlings.
He heard a wolf's whimper and a man shout Ruby's name, but he didn't care, that wasn't his battle. And if that Emma actually was who he thought she was, well, he would've liked to exchange a few words with her, but just to understand if she was on the same page as him.
«Don't you dare talk about Liam,» he growled lunging forward with growing fury, «I should cut your tongue for having just pronounced his name.»
Randall's face drew an expression of mock terror. «You're oh so scary, Captain,» he joked, trying to graze Killian's sleeve with his blade, opening a gash on his shoulder. «First you steal his title, then his ship. I bet that if he had had a wife you would've stolen even her!»
It seemed to him as if he'd been detached from his own body, a roar of anger rose from his throat as he parried another lunge to his face, using his foot to throw Randall off balance. Randall stumbled backwards before he recovered and attacked Killian with all his might. Killian was faster, bending to avoid Randall's blade and run his own through his stomach.
The man's dead weight fell upon him and Killian shrugged him off himself as if he was mud that had dirtied his boots. Blood dripped from his cutlass onto the pavement, his breath ragged from exertion and rage.
He noticed just then that the other men were laying in a heap in the alley, black puddles spreading under them. He noticed the huntsman not too far away, kneeling over Ruby, who had changed back into her human form and was covered by the crimson cloak, the fabric almost black under the hand that was pressing on the wound.
«Bring her home,» he heard Emma order, crouched beside her friends, her gaze worried and filled with guilt.
Graham nodded and helped Ruby standing up, making her wince a little. «I'll send reinforcements…»
«No,» Emma cut him off, shaking her head vigorously. «I… I'll see you soon, you go tending your wounds, I'll stay here and get rid of the bodies.»
Killian only had a glimpse of her face, but he could sense her lie, she was an awful liar, definitely not apt to bluff. He surely wasn't the only one thinking so, because the huntsman sighed sadly after looking at her for a long moment and pressed a kiss on her forehead, hugging her slightly. Ruby was looking at her sharply, reaching out the hand she was using to hold on to Graham and clutching tightly Emma's.
Before turning her back to her friend, Ruby lifted her eyes onto Killian and he felt his skin crawl as her green irises flashed yellow for a moment, a clear warning sign at which he found himself nodding slowly, as if he was moved around by invisible strings.
The two of them, followed by the grey wolf, vanished into the night, leaving Emma and Killian alone, the silence welcoming their barely panting breaths. Slowly, Emma turned towards him, looking him in the eyes and Killian found himself captured once again by that sensation that prevented him from moving, that pushed him to draw near her.
«I could thank you if I didn't know you did all of this just for personal profit,» she started, tilting her head on the side, a few of her curls were encrusted with blood, probably not hers, she didn't seem to be wounded. «I just wonder what brings you to hate George so much.»
He would've liked to answer ironically, he really would've wanted to, but those green eyes of hers pushed him to tell the truth: «He betrayed my trust in the worst of ways, I've promised myself that I never again would've served a corrupted king and I've sworn I never would've let any of his men walk away alive if they crossed my path.»
Emma seemed to weigh his answer and when she slowly nodded he was grateful she didn't ask him about Liam. «Then I guess we're on the same boat, sort of,» she murmured, raising her hand to take off the right elbow-long glove. At first, Killian couldn't understand what she was doing, but when the palm of her hand started to glow white he winced, although not surprised at all.
Under her hand, the dead bodies turned to ashes, which flew away with the salty breeze. As if drawn to her by an invisible thread, Killian moved closer and one of his hands closed around her wrist, her palm still glowing under his amazed gaze.
He'd seen magic in action, albeit never this close, and the last time he'd sworn he never would've been involved again. This time, though… this time it was different, it was white magic, pure magic.
He saw Emma biting her lower lip, his hair falling over his eyes but he didn't move to brush it away, literally bewitched by the young woman in front of him.
«You're wounded. Can I… Do you want me to heal you?»
«If I step too far away from you the wound will reopen?» he couldn't stop himself from asking, not after what had happened to Liam, not after he'd taken a stupid decision to save him and that had irremediably backfired.
Emma frowned at the question, so he just nodded slowly, releasing her wrist and letting her place her hand on his shoulder. A strange warmth followed by a tingling flooded him, making him jump. It was a completely new sensation, pleasant, even, that had him smile warmly as he kept his eyes locked with hers.
Before he could even open his mouth for one of his usual innuendos, they heard a dying voice calling out to them a few feet away.
«Send my regards to your brother, Captain.»
Randall's voice faded on the last syllable but his arm had already completed the movement and a dagger was aiming straight towards Killian, ready to take his life.
«No!»
Emma's scream reached his ears the same instant her body slammed into his, forcefully pushing him onto the pavement. Ignoring the pain in his back, Killian lifted himself into a sitting position, bringing Emma with him, on her lips the ghost of a smile, the hand she had on his shoulder was now resting on her own waist from which now protruded the hilt of the dagger meant for him.