AN: So, I don't write CS very often (even though I love them) but then this sort of happened? I've had some dark CS feels. I was going to leave this tumblr only as it's quite short but then figure why not and posted it. Enjoy!
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
It's her and always has been. The man he is is all for her, a reflection of her light to pull him up to the things that he could be.
Hair as yellow as gold, skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood. Her mother's stamp to keep her safe, pure and whole and how naive to think that every arrow, every wish, every ill thought, every black spot deep in the heart of things doesn't count for something.
They've given up on that final wish of hers. He never thought he'd see it, but the war went to long with too many casualties. The prince is dented now, has been ever since they found his love discarded like a broken doll among the frozen waste that was her namesake, and the Dark Swan had dared to laugh at the man who has once been her father, a gleeful bloodied child in the moonlight. There had been madness in his eyes as he stumbled to his feet, a hungry, wild thing that had him gripping his sword with his good hand and lurching forward with his hook to hold him back.
"Think of Neal" he tells him (Not Henry, it's too late for him), and her eyes gleam at the name. They've become clearer since the black storm devoured her, the flat shine against the night of the not quite human. 'I am the wolf' they tell him. I am the witch in her sticky sweet house, the cry of the beasts in the wood. I am the voice that whispers 'jump' when you peer over the ledge, I am the thing that grinds men's bones to make my bread. David shakes his head as if to throw off the beating cry for vengeance choking his pulse. He used to cry for her, to beg, they both did, back when this all started. Before the blood fell like rain and Merlin's bones had shone a virgin white through his open throat. 'How do you fight to destroy something that the greatest powers can but try to contain?' David will ask later, sprawled over the floor, flask in hand. Hook will shake his head because 300 years and a thousand stories hasn't given them an answer. Darkness stays, it stains, it smiles sweetly as is pets you. The truth is one these shattered souls refuse to see, you cannot remove the dark for without it there is no light. You cannot unbalance the universe, even when your daughter is the one keeping it in sway.
He has his own truths now. Home is not a ship, it's not a town, it's not this misshapen lump of flesh she's gouged out of what used to be her life. It's her, and always will be. The darkness waits and wants, it hungers as he hungers. The Swan is no less beautiful for the ebony of her wings, let her take him and swallow him whole, let her suck the marrow from his bones, let her feast and him with her. He became a good man for her, but she doesn't need goodness from him anymore.
He can be other things.