The wind rolling off of the ocean was particularly biting as she made her way along the docks. Damn this long winter and its continued efforts to impede her progress. As if on cue, snow began to fall. She pulled her cloak around her tightly, partially for warmth, but mostly to keep the wind from blowing the fabric from her face and exposing her to anyone who might care to look upon her. She had been running for so long and she was so very tired. The soft thud of the boots on her feet against the weathered wood beneath them seemed to echo off the water and she consciously stepped a little lighter. Discretion was key, after all. Speed and discretion.

It was well after midnight and the docks were quiet and devoid of people for the most part. An occasional drunken sailor had stumbled past her without more than a brief glance, for which she was thankful for. She put one determined foot in front of the other as her target came into view.

The ship glimmered in the moonlight, the polished wood almost twinkling back at her as she made her way up the ramp towards the deck. She felt a connection to it that she tried desperately to ignore, but the blood began to sing in her veins as she drew nearer to it. She sighed as she realized the Jolly Roger must be made of enchanted wood.

"Ho, there." A portly man in a knit red hat rushed forward to keep her from boarding. His bearded face was stern, but she could tell a kind man when she saw one. Nevertheless, a pirate was a pirate and not to be trifled with, no matter how kind. "State your business."

"I seek an audience with your captain." She reached for the satchel at her hip and removed two large gold coins, placing them in the man's hand. He looked from the coins to her shadowed façade, astonished.

"The... the captain does not like to be disturbed this late in the night..." The man stammered. She retrieved another coin from the pouch and pressed it on top of the others firmly in his still extended palm.

"I trust you understand the urgency of this matter." She said in a low voice. The man was thoroughly flustered and looked around the deck nervously for any other body that might observe their exchange before ushering her quickly on board. She followed his brisk approach to the door of the captain's quarters. He gave a final nervous glance to the woman behind him before raising his hand and placing three shaky raps against the heavy wooden door.

They waited. No response came.

The man knocked again three more times, slightly louder, and shifted with greater apprehension. Shuffling behind the door was heard and heavy footsteps stormed towards them. The door flew open and the stout little man jumped backwards, connecting with the front of the lady behind him. She swayed slightly with the jolt of the man's weight, but did not stumble.

"Smee." The man who stood on the other side of the door growled out the name, his voice husky with sleep, or too much drink, or both. Leather trousers hugged the curves of his legs and his dark linen shirt hung from his shoulder, exposing the line of his collarbone and the dusting of black chest hair beneath. She let her gaze travel upward over the stubble that lay neatly trimmed on his chiseled jaw and framed his lips, which were turned in a snarl, exposing the clenched white teeth within them. Dragging her vision upward still, she found two of the bluest eyes she had ever seen, both ringed with smudged kohl and burning into the two bodies standing before him. His raven hair flopped over his forehead, thoroughly mussed from his rest.

"C-captain..." The man called Smee began.

"Please tell me, Mr. Smee, that you have not woken me for some late night dalliance with the local tavern harlot." He glanced at the woman his first mate was still pressed against and drug his gaze back to the sputtering man in front of him. She was afraid to move, lest the rotund sailor collapse on the deck without her support, and fought against the urge to raise her chin stiffly at the verbal jab in order to avoid the moonlight catching any of her features.

"N-no, sir. She seeks a parlay." Smee informed him and extended his hand to the captain. The pirate brought up his right hand and the man dropped the three coins into his waiting palm. His gaze darted from the gold back to the woman concealed within the fabric layers behind his first mate. A smile crept over his cheeks as he began to turn one of the coins between the knuckles of his fingers, the other two safely secured to his palm by his thumb.

"In that case, please forgive my impudence. Smee, fetch us some wine." The man in the red hat finally found his footing and skittered away at the request, leaving her alone with the pirate captain. He stepped back from the doorway and the door creaked open wider with his movement. He dipped forward slightly in a bow. "Please, enter." He flashed his teeth in a charming smile that sent butterflies through her stomach. Nerves', she told herself. She entered the room silently.

He made his way around the small wooden table bolted to the floor in the center of the room, never moving his eyes from her even in the dim lantern light. She reached for her belt and saw him tense almost imperceptibly, as if he was expecting her to draw a weapon on him.

She moved her hand away from her waist, bringing with her a large pouch of coins easily the size of a grapefruit that she clanked onto the wood in front of her as he sat in the chair. He glanced down at the sack before looking back to her face. She wondered briefly how well he could see her, but she knew she was well hidden within the folds of the rich purple velvet cloak that hung over her shoulders. The only piece of skin exposed to the man before her was the gap of her wrist at the end of her gloved hand peeking from beneath the black woollen dress she donned. The gloves and dress alike were dirty and tattered from weeks of wear.

"Quite the entrance, darling. To what do I owe the pleasure of your midnight demands?" His voice was deep and silken, tongue caressing every syllable he spoke.

"I seek passage aboard your ship. There's another purse just like it with your name on it upon my safe arrival. That should be enough compensation to whet your appetite, pirate." Her words were soft, yet direct. A hidden strength and confidence behind them. The man before her cocked an amused eyebrow at her audacity.

"Ordinarily, yes, but you still haven't disclosed to me the terms of this particular arrangement. Nor your name." He hadn't looked at the satchel again since she'd lain it before him. His cerulean eyes shone brightly towards her in the dark room.

"You can call me Swan." She replied tersely, not wanting to reveal her identity. She was, after all, the most sought after woman in the realm. Her name alone held far too much weight. Besides, no one had called her 'Emma' in months. She wasn't sure if that's who she really was anymore.

"What a peculiar moniker, luv." He remarked with a smirk, dimple forming at the edge of his cheek.

"A laughable observation from the pirate called Hook." She fired back and he grinned at her, looking down at the end of his wrist briefly for the source of his namesake. A metal hook adorned the space where a hand once was, the flickering light from the lantern catching its curve. "I simply require transport to Arendelle. I'll require a cabin and food, nothing more. Do we have a deal?"

The man in black before her stroked the stubble at his chin, examining her with a dark intensity. He rose from his seat and made his way back around the table to stand in front of her. Her pulse quickened, not knowing what to expect from him next.

"I must say, I am impressed. You've clearly heard of me and therefore must have an idea of my reputation. Yet, you travel here alone, in the dark of night, place a large amount of gold before me, promising even more and requesting my ship as your own personal ferry." He leaned back against the table and retrieved the leather purse beside him with his hook and depositing it into his hand. He bobbed his wrist, testing the weight against his palm. "You are either very stupid, or very brave."

She swallowed hard and clenched her fists at her sides as he stepped forward again. He took yet another step forward and she broke her gaze from his, looking downward and further concealing her face from his sudden closeness.

"I should like to think it is the latter, luv. I am most intrigued at this adventure. Consider this deal struck, Swan." He held out his good hand to her and she hesitantly placed her own leather clad fingers in his. Instead of shaking her hand, he brought her knuckles to his lips and pressed a kiss to them to seal the deal. Her skin prickled with goosebumps at the touch, even through her glove.

Three timid knocks sounded at the door.

"Enter." Hook answered, dropping her hand gently and continuing to gaze at her. The door opened slowly and Smee emerged from behind it, carrying a dusty green glass bottle and two silver goblets. He hastily clattered the items onto the table behind his captain and scuttled back to the door. He removed his hat to reveal a balding head and began to wring it in his hands, awaiting further instruction or dismissal. She could tell by the tremble in his thickly bearded jaw he would much prefer dismissal.

"Mr. Smee. I would like to formally introduce you to Miss Swan. She will be traveling with us." Hook informed his compatriot, who glanced warily from the woman back to his captain. He, however, did not move his eyes from the slight woman before him. "I would like for you to prepare a cabin for her. Report back to me when the task is completed and then we shall chart a course. We sail at dawn."

"A course to where, Captain?" Smee asked, eyeing the woman once more.

"Tell me, Smee." Hook turned to face the heavyset fellow and crossed his arms over his chest. "At what point did you come to find it acceptable to question your captain?"

The man's face paled and he stuttered through several apologies before the captain dismissed him bluntly. Emma moved to follow the scrambling man through the door but Hook's voice stopped her.

"What's your rush, luv?" He turned back to the table and unceremoniously uncorked the bottle of wine with his teeth, spitting the plug across the room. He began to pour the red liquid into the two goblets in front of him. "Come. Have a drink."

She paused and stared at the back of the man at the table.

"I don't imbibe." She replied curtly. There was something about this man. Even through her heavy disguise, she felt exposed to him. His head turned and he gave her a glance over his shoulder.

"Swan, don't make a man drink alone." He the corners of his mouth turned up slightly and he rotated around, extending a silver cup to her.

"I'm not in the mood for a drink. Or...a man." She flushed, grateful even more for her hood. Why did he affect her so?

"One drink, Swan. If we are to spend the next few weeks together, we should at least get to know one another. And I don't bite. Unless you want me to." He winked at her and she felt the heat creep up her neck as she was sure her face reddened even further. She said nothing, but reached out hesitantly and accepted the extended drink

"That's better." He looked quite pleased with himself as he sat down in the chair opposite her at the table that he had sat in before and motioned for her to sit in another. She sat on the edge of the chair furthest across the table from where he was seated, angled slightly away from him, back rigid, and took a sip of the wine in her hand. It was sweet and smooth, a delicacy she had almost forgotten these last few months. Even in her memories, she hadn't had a wine this good in some time.

"So. Arendelle. Running from something or running to something?" She could feel the heat from his gaze roll over her as she swirled the liquid in the cup.

"My reasons are my own." She replied quietly. He chuckled softly and scratched his chin with his hook.

"A bit of both, is it then, Swan?" He took a full leisurely drink of his own and looked at her intently through long, dark lashes over the rim of his goblet as he did.

"What makes you say that?" She felt her breathing increase, knowing he was right. Did he know who she was?

"Well," Hook stood and made his way around the table, leaning against it just in front of her. "Arendelle is a very frigid and quite distant location, which implies that there is something specific waiting for you there because why else would you want to go? And you clearly are trying desperately to hide what I'm sure is quite a lovely face for some reason, which implies you are indeed running from something. The question therein lies, running from and to what?" He placed his hand and hook on the table, leaning closer to her. Her breath stilled in her chest and she could smell rum and spice on his skin as he inched closer. Her careful grip was suddenly lost on the goblet in her hand as she watched him out of the corner of her eye and the cup fell into her lap, spilling its contents on her dress. He leaned back with a smirk and as she jumped to her feet with a shock. She frantically wiped her lap with her covered hands and he stood, walking to his desk, returning with a handkerchief.

"Do I make you nervous, Swan?" He asked, extending the scrap of fabric to her, eyes twinkling with mirth. She accepted it and began to blot the wet patch in her lap. "Or do you make a habit of bathing yourself in perfectly aged wine? Perhaps that's the reason for your flawless complexion." Emma froze at his words, hands paused midair as she realized that her hood had fallen away in her haste to stand and clean herself. She quickly raised her hands to pull it back up over her head, panic setting in her chest, but her wrist was quickly captured beneath the rough skin of Hook's palm. She looked up at him guardedly, her heartbeat hammering in her throat.

"A little late for that now, luv." He murmured darkly, and for the first time that night her bright green eyes met his fully. "I must admit I was wrong before when I assumed you were hiding a lovely face. You are positively stunning, Swan. Lovely couldn't even begin to describe you." He stepped closer to her and she tensed, eyes widening as she moved nearer to the table behind her in response. All manner of thoughts raced through her mind. Her monetary offering was paltry compared to the reward for her head. Queen Tamara would never let her see the light of day again. She had ran for so long and now she had lost. He was, indeed, a pirate and held no loyalty to her. She was slowly brought back into the moment as he swept his gaze over her figure before releasing her hand and reached up to tuck a wayward golden curl behind her ear. She felt electricity radiate through her skin as he skimmed his thumb along her jawline.

"You seem quite afraid for someone who so freely boarded my ship and requested the presence of my company for the next several weeks, luv." He spoke softly, his face inching closer to hers. She leaned back against the table further and he took a step closer to her again. The tension between the two of them was palpable.

"I am not afraid of you." She said, her voice barely cracking above a whisper, cutting through the strain like a butter knife through lead. She raised her chin defiantly as he curled his knuckle underneath it. He laughed low in his throat.

"You can lie to yourself, but not to me. Try something new, darling. It's called trust." His mouth was mere centimeters from her ear and she could feel his breath hot against the side of her neck.

Three knocks sounded at the door once more. Hook pulled back only slightly and held her gaze for what seemed like forever. Three more hesitant raps came against the wood again. He reached up with his hand and hook and gently pulled the fabric over her head, concealing her face once again before stepping away.

"You...you won't say anything...will you?" Emma asked, voice trembling slightly. Hook smiled softly at her.

"What's to say, luv? That I laid eyes on a beautiful woman with golden hair and emerald eyes that fancies covering it all for reasons that should be illegal? I'm not sure what you're running from, luv, but your secret is safe with me. I am a man of my word." Emma's hair tingled on the back of her neck as he spoke. She always had a particular knack for knowing when someone was lying to her and she felt herself relax as she was sure he was being truthful. She adjusted her hood again, making sure she was fully covered. To say she was relieved would be a massive understatement.

The knocks rang out through the quarters once more and the captain spoke, advising the man to enter. Smee stepped into the room briskly and shut the door soundly behind him, immediately removing his hat to twist it in his fists again.

"The cabin is prepared, sir." He said in a small, trembling voice.

"Excellent. Please show Miss Swan to her quarters and provide her with anything else that she needs. She is my personal guest and shall be treated as such." She could feel his eyes on her as he spoke, watching her walk towards his first mate with her composure mostly recovered. The man didn't appear to have a modicum of humility in his body.

"Aye, captain." Smee acknowledged and held the door open for Emma to walk through. She didn't turn back but paused briefly as she heard Hook's voice.

"Good night, Swan."

She followed Smee as he held a lantern aloft, leading her across the deck through the darkness and cold. She pulled her cloak tighter around her, even more wary now of another slip up. Even if the captain hadn't recognized her, which she wasn't entirely sure he hadn't, she couldn't take the chance that Mr. Smee or another crewman wouldn't. He continued to the opposite end of the ship and led her down a narrow, ladder-like staircase into a hallway. She accepted his extended hand as he reached the lower deck, completing her descent as well with his appreciated but unnecessary assistance.

They stopped at the first door on the left of the staircase and Smee opened the door, stepping clear to allow her entry. Emma was very pleasantly surprised. She hadn't expected pirates to be so chivalrous. 'Or clean', she thought uncharitably. The room was modest but startlingly homey and spacious. A bed was built into the wall with drawers underneath it, almost making Emma chuckle at her notice of them. She wouldn't be using them. She didn't own enough anymore to fill even a single drawer. Just the items she wore. A porthole was embedded in the wall just above the bed, which was covered in a red and white quilt and looked more comfortable than anything she'd slept on in recent memory. A small table and two chairs were bolted to the floor on the right side of the bed and a bookcase filled to the brim with several texts to the left. The table had a covered tray resting on it and Emma's mouth watered almost uncontrollably at the smell of hot food.

She turned slowly around as Smee settled a lantern and a box of matches on the table. He reached across and uncovered the tray and Emma thought she might expire on the spot from the heavenly aroma now flooding the cabin. It was little more than a bowl of stew and some bread, but it was more than she had even seen in ages, let alone eaten. She fought back every primal urge in her body not to leap across the table and dig into the food with both hands, reminding herself that she was still a lady. She had gotten very good at stifling her hunger, but then again, she had not been tempted like this in some time.

"Will you require anything else, Miss Swan?" Smee asked uneasily and Emma responded with a swift 'no', effectively dismissing the pirate who bud her good night as well. As soon as the door closed behind him she rushed to it and clicked the lock into place. She shed her cloak and gloves in furious haste and, ladyship be damned, practically inhaled the food at the table. She felt a tear roll down her cheek as her belly settled into a full, warm satisfaction for the first time in many, many nights.

"Get a hold on yourself, Swan." She chastised out loud, bringing her fingers up to pull the pendant out from beneath the high collar of her dress and caressed it gently.

"To represent your grace and beauty." Her mother's words echoed in her brain as she traced over the tiny swan emblem on the necklace. She shivered at the memory of her mother's hands on her shoulders after she fastened it behind her neck, her father looking on with a smile. She shook her head briskly, ridding herself of the image. She was going to find them again. They always found each other.

Kicking off her boots and peeling away her stockings, her feet throbbed with the ache of walking for miles that day and every day prior. She unlaced the ties of her dress and slipped it off as well, draping it and her discarded cloak on the chair nearest to the bed. She moved through the room in only her underclothes, which bore a large red stain at her hips from the wine spillage earlier. She sighed and brushed it off. It wasn't like she had a lot of options in replacements. She would try to find a way to scrub out the clothing tomorrow, but right now, the bed before her looked more enticing than ever. Climbing into it and nestling her head against the downy pillow, drawing the cotton quilt around her body, she could not help the slight contented groan that escaped her lips.

Coherent thought began to elude her and she wondered briefly if she had made a mistake in coming to this ship at all. The last thing she saw as she closed her lids and let sleep overcome her were two of the most brilliant blue eyes she had ever seen before.