Everyone knows the story of Snow White, the perfect child, the perfect daughter. But not everyone remembers the other sister, Rose Red; whose story was never really told. Did she die, was she given up? Rose Alexia is the other daughter, the daughter who wasn't perfect, who no one wanted; not her parents, not even the orphanage.

Now she's out on her own, working at a pub by the docks; listening to the pirates' stories. This is about one of those pirates, his story, Rose's story and how they become the same story. This is the Enchanted Forest, where portals open to far off lands like Neverland and where nearly everything is possible.

*Chapter 1*

The entire kingdom was thrilled when it was announced. The queen had given birth to a beautiful baby girl. She was to be called Rose, Rose Alexia. She'd have all she could ever need or desire. She was perfect, or at least that's what the storybooks say.

When the little princess was seven, or maybe a little before then, the queen began having problems with her. She didn't want to wear the poufy gowns with all those little pink frills. She didn't want to learn how to curtsy or which fork goes with which course. The queen didn't know what to do with her.

These problems escalated until the day the announcement went around. The queen was once again pregnant. She didn't have time to deal with a rebellious little brat; she'd soon have another beautiful pink baby to teach to be perfect. Another word also went around, the queen didn't want Rose. Arrangements had been made; Rose would be taken to an orphanage the week before the queen was to give birth.

The castle staff tried not to question the queen's decision. If the queen thought it was right… well, let's just say, you don't usually get away with arguing with the queen. Time went by, the date got closer, and the queen got bigger.

Rose was sent to the orphanage with a small bag full of food and a couple of not so frilly dresses. She knew she'd never see her home again. She knew who would get her room and who had sent her to this god forsaken place. The seed of hate was planted.

Rose grew up into a beautiful young woman of nineteen. She'd long ago given up on the world and its cruelness. She was cold, bitter and disappointed in the world and the people who'd let her down. If her eyes ever strayed toward the castle on the hill, it was a gaze full of hate, disgust and the smallest modicum of longing, longing for the life she once had.

She was tired of the life she had at the orphanage. Actually, they were tired of her too. They wanted her gone and kept sending her out to find a job of some kind, but no one wanted to hire a 19 year old who'd grown up in an orphanage. A pub by the docks needed a waitress, and didn't care about age or upbringing. When she wasn't cleaning tables and bringing the drunken men their last ales before they were kicked out, she'd sit and listen. The pirates and sailors always had interesting tales to tell. Besides, she could always drown her sorrows in rum if she wanted, which the men always bought her in hopes of being repaid.

That day when she escaped to the pub, there was a man she'd never seen before. He was a pirate, that much she could tell. She went to ask the barkeep what he knew. She learned the was the captain of a ship dubbed the Jolly Roger and his name was- fitting to the hook that served as his left hand- Captain Hook. The barkeep didn't know his real name; Rose decided to find out.

She slipped the sad looking man at an old upright in the corner a few coins to play something lively. She took to the meager dance floor, never once taking her eyes off of the man whose name she sought. He finally looked up, looked at her. She smiled, an invitation. The very sexy one handed pirate cocked an eyebrow and stood.

The captain walked over to the beautiful redhead vying for his attention. She bowed in the middle of her dance. He returned it and put his right hand for her. Rose accepted the hand and spun into his arms. The captain chuckled, a deep throaty laugh that she liked very much.

They danced through the night, or at least a good portion of it. The roguish pirate proved to be a perfect gentleman, at least when he wanted to be. He knew how to dance, even the slow stuff. Every once in a while, he'd whisper a joke in her ear, more often dirty than not.

After a while, they just sat and talked, comfortable and warm in each other's company. Rose told him all about being abandoned in favour of Snow White, the sister she'd never met and never wanted to. She told him about how Regina, the new queen after her mother's death, had found her to offer her a place in the castle. She'd learned that Snow had run away from the castle after Regina had tried to kill her for ruining her life. She told him about Regina trying to get her out of the orphanage, and how she'd said no; Rose didn't really belong in that world anymore.

He told her his name, Killian Jones. He told her how he'd lost his hand in a fight with Rumplestiltskin, the Dark One. He told her about Mila, the Dark One's wife, the love of his life; and how she died in his arms. He sighed and said he didn't know if he ever be able to love someone that intensely again. Rose touched his arm, he took her hand. She smiled, a small smile meant to reassure, but it lit a small fire in Killian.

As the last of the patrons left, Rose knew they must part, for she was expected back at the orphanage long ago and Killian had things to do on his ship. She didn't want to go, and she could tell he didn't want to either. He offered to take her to the ship, to his bed. As much as Rose wanted to, she knew that if she went with him now, it'd be once and he'd be gone in the morning. She politely declined and asked if he'd be back the following evening.

He smiled his secret smile, and told her he be there if she was. She may have blushed, but if was dark enough in the small pub that Killian couldn't see. She promised she'd be there, perhaps waiting, perhaps not. She watched a fire start in Killian's eyes, a smoldering gaze full of so many promises and possibilities. He kissed the back of her hand, his breath warm on her knuckles; before bidding her goodnight. Rose sighed and watched him walk out the door, not knowing if he would really come back.

The following day, Rose went through her chores in a daze, not able to keep her mind off the man who'd invaded not only her mind, but her dreams as well. She dreamt of sailing away on his fine ship, leaving the orphanage and everything else behind. She dreamt of smoldering eyes and quick smiles; of Killian Jones. She couldn't wait until she was expected at the pub that night.

Killian didn't return to the pub until just before they were meant to close, coming not for the ale or the other men's' tales, but for Rose. He told her that he'd thought of her all night and that when he'd finally fallen asleep, that he'd dreamt of her. He told her of his dreams, of taking her away from the orphanage and the pub; to places she'd never seen and of beautiful things she'd never dreamt of owning.

He offered Rose a place on the ship, saying he couldn't imagine leaving in the morning without her. Rose told him she'd have to think abut it, that she had so much to leave. Killian growled and grabbed her to him, kissing her until they were both breathless. He said she was belligerent and rebellious enough to keep him on his toes; exactly how he liked his women. Rose was still holding onto him, knowing if she left go, she'd fall to her knees. Killian went with her to collect her things from the orphanage after the pub closed to take them to the ship. They would set sail in the morning.