The Princess and The Pirate

Chapter 1:

"Who is that?" she nudges Ruby and points towards the man dressed in pure, black leather, his blue eyes shining as he talks to the excited people crowding around him. Ruby giggles and gives Emma a knowing look. "Handsome, isn't he?" Emma feels her cheeks redden and glares at her best friend and body guard, who simply sips on her ale and smirks.

"He's Captain Hook, owner of The Jolly Roger, most infamous pirate in all the realms," she tells her finally, the reluctant awe clear in her voice. Emma's jade eyes flicker back to him as his flamboyant laughter fills the tavern. "He's-" "A fine piece of work if I say so myself." Emma rolls her eyes as Ruby twirls her dark hair, her gaze glued to the pirate with raven hair and half exposed chest.

Of course he'd be half naked, he is a pirate after all.

"Princess, we should go home." She sighs at Sir Graham, her other body guard and closest friend's insistence, but relents because it is a quiet late and she'd rather not have her parents send the guards searching for her at this hour. She throws her scarlet cloak over her shoulders and grabs Ruby's extended hand as they leave the boisterous tavern. She can't help but let her eyes linger on the pirate, his smile almost enchanting, and instead of fear and disgust a princess should posses in front of something as lowly and dangerous as a pirate, she feels a burning curiosity.

His eyes look up and land on hers just as she's about to leave and her heart stutters in her chest. His eyes are so blue, as blue as the ocean, as clear as the sky. She tears her gaze away and suppresses her swirling emotions as she heads back to the castle in her carriage in silence, ignoring Ruby's perceptive smile and Graham's confusion.

She doesn't try to explain to herself why she desperately wishes to see those blue eyes again.

"How long are we here for, Captain?" Smee, his round, loyal first mate, asks.

He traces oceans and lands on the map spread out in front of him, his finger tips lingering on the green mass of forest, just like those green eyes from a few nights ago. "We'll stay a while longer, just until I figure out how to refill our supplies." "Aye, Captain." He hears the crew cheer as Smee announces the news, followed by the popping sound of a rum barrel being opened. He doesn't blame them, The White Kingdom is the most bounteous and beautiful kingdom he's ever been to. He grins when he thinks of all the treasure they'll be able to steal.

A loud, feminine scream interrupts his thoughts and he feels rage burn through his veins. He is a pirate, with his crew and the ocean below, they plunder, pillage, rejoice in victories with barrels and barrels of rum, but the one thing they are never to do is harm a woman.

He climbs above deck, strides forward as the crew steps aside to reveal a drunken sailor pinning a terrified maiden beneath him. He lifts the uncoordinated boy with the tip of his hook, sighing in relief to see it was not one of his loyal crewmen but a tavern boy with no self respect. The woman in the scarlet cloak scrambles to the corner of his ship, her harsh, frightened pants filling the eerie silence. "Do you know what I do to men on my ship who fall so low and hurt women?" he seethes and twist his silver hook tighter against his collar. The drunken man laughs, a terrible choice, and slurs, "You're a pirate, you all rape whores." His hook slices through his throat, the panic in his eyes fueling his rage. "You're incredibly mistaken."

Blood splutters from his mouth as the light slowly leaves his eyes, his hook digging and twisting until his throat is all but a mass of torn flesh and warm blood. His crew cheers his name when he tosses the dead man off his ship. He turns around and sees the woman still hunched in a corner and offers her his extended hand. "Are you alright, lass?" She doesn't respond, but she does looks up from beneath her cloak and he stops breathing when he sees her shimmering green eyes.

She should feel afraid, she knows, since she just saw him kill a man in cold blood, but all she feels is relief and gratitude. She takes his hand, warm and rough beneath her palm as he helps her up and sees his blue eyes widen in recognition. It shouldn't make her heart flutter, but it does. Her pride is wounded on being found in such a helpless state and she suddenly feels defensive. "I could have taken care of myself," she says finally and sees the confusion turn into amusement in his eyes. "Didn't seem that way to me, love." She realizes a second later that he is still holding her hand, so she pulls it away abruptly, avoiding his piercing gaze.

"I'm not some damsel in distress," she huffs and tries to move but feels a searing pain on her lower calf. The planks must have scraped against her skin when that pig of a man tried to ruin her life. "A simple thank you would suffice, darling." She rolls her eyes at his charming grin and grits her teeth against the searing pain in her leg. "What brings you aboard the Roger, love?" he asks, oblivious to her discomfort. She looks around his hushed, snickering crew all watching their exchange and finally catches his curious gaze. "I was looking for Tinker Bell." His features darken and he waves his hook, still covered in blood, to signal his crew away. He steps closer to her, his smile dark. "And why, may I ask, do you need the fairy?" She steps back, trying to keep the yelp of pain inside, and glares at him. "That's none of your concern."

Though he may have saved her virtue, he was still a pirate and she couldn't help but feel a shiver of fear and attraction run down her spine at the glint in his eye. His eyes dart down as he takes in her limp. "You're hurt." She tries her very best not to roll her eyes at his obvious statement. "May I dress your wound, love?" Her cheeks flush and she gives him a distrustful look. He chuckles and steps even closer. "I just killed a man for trying to hurt you, love. Do you really think I'd attempt anything with you?" "You are a pirate, "she says distastefully. "That I am."

He's too close for her liking, and her heart beat stutters in her chest when he licks his lips. She tries to walk past him, but her leg throbs and blood oozes onto her blue gown. There is no way she'd be able to sneak back home with her wound bleeding through her clothes. "Come on, lass. Try something new; it's called trust." His eyes are earnest, his smile sincere, and the pain in her leg torture, so she acquiesces and begins to follow him, limping along the way, refusing to his cheeky offer of being carried.

She hesitates when he leads her down to the Captain Quarters, but forgets her wariness when she steps inside the small room and sees all the books surrounding almost every inch. It was astounding to her that this pirate, infamously evil and awful, not only saved her (which she reluctantly accepts) but also had books littering every surface of his room.

An educated pirate. An honorable pirate. Her thoughts were clashing with what she has seen about him and what she was told.

He turns and motions for her to sit on the brown velvet chair in the corner near the desk which was covered with intricate maps and various devices. Interest piqued, she barely even notices when he falls to his knees and sets up bandages, a bowl of water, and a bucket of green salve. Her heart begins to race when it dawns on her that she's alone with him, in his Quarters, and he's about to dress her wounds. "It seems unfair that I don't know your name and I'm about to see you bare, love." She glares at him, her heart hammering in her chest, as he pulls her blue gown up to her knee, his smirk making her mouth dry. When he gets to work immediately, his eyes intent as he cleans the blood, she feels the worry and anxiety leave her. "Emma." He looks up, his blue eyes dancing in mischief. "Just Emma?"She waits a beat, watching in astonishment as he works over her wound with only one hand. "Emma Swan," she breathes at last.

He's a pirate who has traveled seven realms, fought enemies and friends, plundered kingdoms far and near, seduced women easily, killed in cold blood, but right at this moment, on his knees in front of the Swan with emerald green eyes, he feels anything but powerful.

He can't help but devour all her pale, smooth skin with his greedy eyes, only marred slightly by a scratch to her calf. He wraps the bandage with the help of his mouth and smirks when her breath hitches at the close proximity of his mouth to her skin. "There you are, darling." He pulls her dress down and helps her up.

He doesn't understand what it is about her. The fire in her eyes, the haughtiness in her voice, the flush in her cheeks; something has him utterly intrigued and has an odd sensation in his chest forming. "Thank you." Her eyes are wide, her lips a soft pink, and the blush in her cheeks a delicious red. The odd feeling in his chest grown, throwing him off balance. He leans forward, closing the distance between them until their lips are only a few inches apart, trying to regain his power. "There are other forms of gratitude, love," he says, giving her a sly grin. Her breath hitches and her eyes darken, but a moment later his cheek is stinging from her slap. He grins darkly as she scoffs and pulls her skirts up to leave. "You're a bastard pirate with no decency." "You wound me, Swan," he laughs as she walks away, her golden hair shining in the moonlight.

She's a mystery indeed.