Author's note: A fic as a gift.
Among rocks drenched in moonlight and suffocated in surrounding darkness, she watched the captive on the muddy ground. White cold light like ice curtains fell upon the man, illuminating the bright red that stained the bruised, scratched skin. Torn pieces of dark cloth clinging to the light arms; some soaked in red, others captured, hidden, bound by chains; golden they almost were, snaking into the darkness around him. Clank, clank, clank, the sound went as those arms moved ever so slowly, supporting the weight of the kneeling man, head hung. Drops fell to the mud, blood devoured by blackness. The fingers and hook pressed the ground; rugged breaths torn by coughs, growls of frustration at the strength that never came to his legs.
An entire night was needed to put this man down, to tear away the strength from him. The resilient bastard. But his attackers, each one more a beast than human, were relentless.
His face rose, pale now under the moonlight's gaze, ghostly almost.
A cough. Drops fell, red trickled from the opened mouth that chased away a breath of contained pain. The blue in his eyes barely seen, overshadowed by the blood that fell from those lips as he looked at her. Looked at the small woman standing in pale shadows, distance barely that of a grown man. Dresses of silk and colors gentle and so royal, gone were long ago; replaced by rough leader sewn into pants, stuffed and hidden in boots large and more fitting of a man than a maiden. So many pieces, old and dark, torn by time, dragged by caliginous memories, then stitched and kept by hands once so soft, gentle, now rugged but concealed behind the facelessness of black leader. Blue flames, tame and gentle played around the fingers of the right hand, raised ever so slightly.
"Who the bloody hell are you?" a hoarse voice came from those blooded lips.
"A girl with a stolen heart," coldness, calm, smooth, almost icy, spoke the words. "Standing before my thief."
He huffed, as if laughter was attempting to be shown. "Blimey. You took it a bit far, didn't ye, love?"
Pebbles and sand were crushed by the steps she took, fragile light revealing hair chopped off so recklessly, short, dirty. Eyebrows with angry arches above a gaze empty of emotion, any feeling so foreign to it; and it noticed his head, that face withdrawing slightly, the pale eyes taking in the appearance before him. Oh, so he remembered her, then?
The eyebrows pressed down, wrinkling that face of his and a grin appeared. A wide, arrogant grin. "Well, sink me. Look at that. From porcelain to mud." A groan twisted Hook's face as he sat in the mud. "Terrible waste." Fingers brushed blood from the lips that once again smiled. "And because I took yer heart?" Laughter echoed, brief, sudden. "How many years turned a princess into a toad?"
She said nothing, body bound by a coat old and long. For a man stripped of strength, he still managed to muster some to speak. Such a shame.
The silence did not hinder him, nor the lack of strength from speaking again. "Must be thousands then. How else could a lass like ye order those six oxen around?" He eyed her with a fading smile, from those boots to that neck hidden behind a red scarf. Curiously. Lips once again curled. "Quite a persuasive one ye must've be-" words sliced by a sharp kick from her boot. More blood fell from the man's face.
He implied a whore, she knew, but she was not one.
Slowly, a tired groan slipped from him. And when he rose slightly, Hook saw the flame that gloved her hand. "Wish to rip my heart out, do ye, love? Ah…" He leaned, sat somehow and widened those shackled arms. "Since I am chained like a dog." The grin appeared, taunting her, mocking her success, her attempts. "Go on, lass. Easy picking, eh?"
Aurora raised her hand, turned it slightly. But the fingers no longer moved. Held they were, held by thoughts, the thousands those days created, the thousands forged by desire and drive for revenge. Finally, she was here, finally, she had him, helpless, unable to fight back, to struggle, as she had once been. Right then, right there, her fingers should have pierced his skin, ripping the life out of him. But nothing moved. Suddenly… it became surreal.
"I imagine, however, it will not be easy to kill one of yer kind," he told her. The silence, the waiting, the hesitance that they must have revealed to Hook, eased those words out of him.
"I do not have your black heart, Hook," a response came from Aurora. Calm, cold.
"Really now? I should think otherwise, having been brought to ol' death's door in… such a cruel, cruel way. Why, you're a saint, you are." A chuckle slipped, torn too by a painful cough. "Another pathetic example that a good heart can't survive the darkness of this world. It becomes blackened, diseased by its madness."
The flames were fainting, the wait she persisted with slowly drained the color so blue as her eyes had once been. What she had traded for this fire, what had been lost for a gift that would not last long. Memories froze her, sacrifices she had made, disgust she had created from her actions and deeds. And as the flames were dying, his face became more alive.
"I suppose it's true," she said, final traces of blue disappearing from the fingers so thin. "It would be a waste to rip out that diseased heart of yours," she replied and glanced up. "Only two men ever knew of this cave…. the island" And her eyes fell slowly on him, now a grin all of her very own forming on the dry face. "And neither is among the living to tell."
But those words brought no fear to that bruised face of his. "Chains much stronger haven't kept me long, and deeds much worse have failed to end me."
"Even if you free yourself, you will not find a path to bring you to a town, to sea… to anywhere. And you will remain here, never been granted the chance…" the words softened, "…to skin your crocodile."
The lines straightened on Hook's face. Gone was the grin and the arrogance beneath the blood. She hit a nerve as she knew she would.
"Die here without the peace of a fulfilled revenge," Aurora told him and turned with that smile gracing her still.
"You ungrateful wench," she heard him growl.
Straight her body was as Aurora began to walk away into the darkness so thick.
"I saved yer bloody life! A death much worse would have awaited you! I gave ye a chance at living!"
But Aurora did not stop, did not turn. She cared no more.
END