A/N: Hey! I'm a tumblr-based fanfictioner, so these are all from my tumblr blog

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Killian awoke the next morning. He was only a little surprised to find himself in a bed at some inn. King David had asked that the boat be empty overnight, so he had released his crew and watched as they poured into the local taverns, excitably drinking the night away.

"Captain...?" Smee had asked hesitantly. "Is there something going on?"

Killian had turned to face his first-mate, smiling as if nothing were the matter. "We've simply had a change in orders." He smacked Smee on the shoulder with a friendly expression. "No worries. We'll set sail tomorrow morn."

It was 'tomorrow morn' now, and Killian was not ready to set sail. His head was throbbing from the amount of rum he'd consumed. What a bloody stupid idea, he cursed, internally punching himself. There must have been SOME other way to keep his men occupied other than buying them endless rounds of drinks. Hopefully David's reward would cover that.

He slid out of bed and was surprised to find himself bare. He turned back suspiciously and looked at where he'd spent the night. "Eep," he squeaked when he noticed the (not even a tiny bit clothed) woman lying there. She had long, curly dark hair that reached the small of her shapely back. The sheets barely covered her... desirables. The sight made him rush to put on his uniform, hopping into his boots as he stumbled out of the room, hoping he hadn't wakened her.

He stepped into the main room of the inn and found Smee passed out on the floor. "Smee!" he whispered fiercely.

"Y-yessur?" Smee responded groggily.

"What the blazes happened last night?" Killian sounded panicked.

Smee just burst into a fit of giggles. "Heh, don't worry cap'n. What happened here can stay between us!" he whispered.

That would be bloody wonderful if I even knew what had happened here, Killian thought begrudgingly. He hit Smee upside the head. "Wake everybody up and be sure they're all at their posts within the hour!" he commanded.

His captain's stern tone of voice made Smee wake up fully, raising a hand in salute. "Of course, cap'n," he replied with a nod, heaving himself onto his feet.

Killian left the inn and began quickly making his way to the docks, shaking his head. His crew would be hung-over for certain. Not a grand way to start his quest. He hoped, though, he'd be able to help them out of their alcohol-induced spells.

In the distance the sun was rising, shedding light on the district and reflecting off of glass panes from the windows of nearby buildings. Killian watched as people blew out their morning candles and began readying themselves for the new day. There was always something peaceful about dawn. He had read somewhere that dawn and dusk were the most magical times of the day. Neither daytime nor night, unstable and chaotic to those who can see the way magical forces bend. Silly stories, he scoffed to himself as he hurried along the brick-paved streets.

When he arrived at the pier, he was surprised to see a man standing at the edge of The Jewel. "Can I help you, sir?" he called as he boarded the ship.

The man turned around. He was wearing a long, dark coat with a large hood hanging over his head. "Actually, yes," he said. The man was tall, and as he approached Killian, the captain felt somewhat intimidated. The man leaned in close, his face still shadowed by the hood and undecipherable despite being only inches away. "I've been asked to keep an eye on things during your very... special mission."

The knowing way in which he spoke made Killian uneasy. He narrowed his eyes. Something didn't seem... right. "And who might you be?"

The man backed away and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his long coat. He glanced out at the sea, eyes skimming the horizon. "Have you ever seen a star burn as brightly as the sun?"

Killian fidgeted in frustration. He hated when people didn't answer his questions. "No..." he replied, irritated.

The man chuckled. "I once stayed in a land where the trees were so large and dense that the sun could rarely be seen. It always felt like night. But when I was able to emerge into an open area and see the stars, they seemed, to me, to burn as brightly as any sun I could have imagined. And the moon, while distant, was like a guardian, protecting my memories of daylight."

Killian was confused as to how this was relevant, but he decided to entertain his curiosity. "So you're familiar with travel between worlds?"

The man nodded, still looking out on the water. "In a sense. I've never traveled with people before, though. I've always had to be on my own. I'm looking forward to this journey."

Killian frowned. "I'm sorry to press you, sir, but what is your name?" he asked, forcing himself to sound polite.

"My name is my own, but you may call me Watcher." One side of Watcher's lips curled upward. "Now if you don't mind, captain, I'm going to get to my post before the rest of your crew arrives."

Killian's eyes followed Watcher as he made his way below deck. "What a ridiculous moniker," he grumbled. He began to pace around his boat, mocking the stranger. "My name is my own," he imitated in a whiny, high-pitched tone.

In the distance, the cries of Killian's crew could be heard as they stampeded towards The Jewel. Smee was at the head of the crowd, urging the others to follow him quickly. When they arrived at the ship, he relayed Killian's previous order again, demanding that they get to their stations.

Killian nodded in approval, watching as the sails were lowered in preparation for their journey. But he still felt uneasy.

"Well, cap'n," Smee started, folding his arms across his chest with pride, "the skies are clear, the wind is blowing in the right direction- I think whatever power resides above looks down on this voyage favorably."

Killian frowned. There was something about this mission that rubbed him the wrong way. "Let us hope you're right," was all he said in reply, leaving Smee to stare off at the sunrise on his own.


The Jewel was supposed to sail into the open waters where no one could see the portal. That would, on a typical ship, take two days if the sailors worked through the night. But The Jewel was no typical ship, and Killian was not your-average captain.

He directed his ship with admirable confidence, guiding them into open waters within a day. His crew still did not know where their orders were telling them to go, but Killian's stoicism was enough to keep them from asking questions. When he announced that they could rest easy for the night, his crew cheered with understandable relief, heading below deck to the mess hall for mead and ale.

Killian decided to retire to his quarters, exhausted after a long day of travel. He could still hear the excited chatter and whooping of his crew, despite being across the ship from the mess hall. He sat at his desk and poured himself a glass of rum. "You deserve it, captain!" he muttered, raising the glass in the air as a toast for himself.

He took a swig from his glass and smiled, rotating it in his hand and losing himself in the hypnotic way the rum swirled. It wasn't long before he dozed off, the sounds of his crew fading with his consciousness.


He was awakened by a bump. Not a bump from the ship hitting a large wave- he was used to the movement. No, this was a noise. Someone hitting their head.

It was quiet and late at night. His crew was likely all passed out. The silence was unnerving.

He slowly sat up in his seat, keeping his ears peeled and eyes alert. The sound had been close. In the same room. In fact it almost sounded as if it had been right beneath him. He slowed his breathing so it was quieter and listened intently.

He could hear the wind whistling through the cracks of his cabin's windows and the low moan of the ship rocking back and forth on the water.

Then came another bump and a muted voice expressing pain. Somebody was nearby. He drew his sword and stood up, walking about his cabin. He took his steps carefully, trying not to make any noise. He heard the sound of someone being shushed below him and he squatted, pressing his ear to the floorboards.

A quiet conversation was taking place beneath his cabin.

"We don't know if that person is still up there," one voice whispered angrily.

"But I'm hungry," the other whined.

"You'll just have to wait. Try and sleep. It'll make time pass mor-" The floorboard Killian was leaning his upper body on creaked.

"What?"

"Did you hear that?"

"I-"

"Shhh!"

Killian squeezed his eyes shut and winced. Who were these people? How could he hear them? Based on the ship's design there wasn't supposed to be a room beneath his cabin. At least not one accessible to-

He shot up. "David," he muttered. This was the cargo. All along his cargo was people. But who could it be? He paced around, scanning the floorboards and searching for some sort of door. And he did find it. Within ten minutes he located the area under his desk where one section of the floor seemed slightly higher than the other, and the boards didn't line up. He cursed himself for not noticing it earlier.

He bent over and was about to reach for the floor when he paused. Maybe it would be better if he didn't know, if he didn't open the hidden door. King David had seemed very paranoid and he didn't want to entertain the fears of his family friend.

But despite his confliction, he had to know. He dug his fingernails into the crevice and began to tug upwards. The door started to give, and he heard a gasp from below.

"Shitshitshit," one of the voices muttered.

He continued to open the door. It was very small and fit comfortably under his large desk so it was obscured from view. A slanted ladder led downwards. He followed it into the darkness, bringing a lamp with him.

"There's no need to hide," he called into the dark]. "I already know you're here."

Silence.

"I'm a friend of David's. I can promise that you being here is a secret I can keep. Just tell me who you are."

More silence.

That was when he tripped.

"Oof!" he grunted as he fell forward, still unsure of what he'd tripped on.

"Close the door!" he heard a female cry. Then there was a slam and the sound of a click.

As Killian looked up from the floor, he saw the small area fully lit by fixed lanterns on the wall. In front of him was a woman with long blonde hair that fell past her shoulders and settled comfortably on her bosom. She was wearing long pants and tall boots with a hooded cape draped over her back. She glared down at him with her piercing green eyes, and he had to admit- she was a sight to behold.

"You're the captain, right?" she inquired after noticing his uniform.

He found that he couldn't speak. Instead he nodded.

"Stand up," she commanded.

He did as she asked and slowly rose until he was standing in front of her. He was slightly taller, but the way she held herself made it seem like it was the other way around.

"Who are you?" he wondered.

She stamped her foot on the ground indignantly. "I'll be the one to ask questions here!" she said. But her voice wavered, and suddenly the illusion had faded.

Killian raised an eyebrow. "Then by all means... ask!" he offered, bowing slightly.

"I want to know where I am going!" she demanded, twisting her body slightly so she was looking at him from over her shoulder.

"Agrabah," he replied hesitantly, unsure whether he should have shared that information or not. She seemed surprised and concerned after hearing that. "A question for a question, if you will?"

The woman nodded slowly and took a step back, sitting on the bench behind her. "Fine," she said.

"Who are you?" He was staring at her with such intensity that she suddenly felt uncomfortable, shifting her position slightly.

"I-I'm Emma."

"And I'm Henry!" a voice from behind Killian chirped. The captain turned around and beheld a young boy sitting on the ladder leading up to his quarters. He had short, dark hair and was wearing princely traveling attire.

It clicked. He looked back at the woman with wide eyes. "You're Emma? Emma Swan? King David's daughter?" She nodded and he bowed before her. "It's an honor. I've known David and Snow since I was very little. He helped my brother and I. We- I owe him a debt that cannot be repaid."

Emma straightened her neck so as to appear more regal. "Are you... Killian Jones?" she asked cautiously.

He smiled. Something about hearing her say his name made his heart skip. "Yes," he answered.

She nodded. "My father spoke of you on a few occasions," she explained plainly.

He frowned. "My turn... why are you being taken to Agrabah?"

Emma bit her lip and glanced nervously at her son. "I- I can't say. I'm sorry."

He nodded in understanding and sat on another bench, examining the room. "This ship is new to me. They never told me there was a secret room beneath my cabin," he commented with a half-hearted grin.

The boy, Henry, kicked his foot in the air. "It gets hot down here sometimes... and hard to breathe. It also smells like mildew."

"Henry," Emma scolded.

"He's Prince Henry, correct? Your son?"

Emma lowered her eyes and bowed her head. "Yes," she responded quietly.

Killian didn't say it, but the words found their way into his thoughts. The bastard child...

Henry seemed to know what the captain was thinking, as he stood up and climbed down from the ladder. "I may be a bastard," he started, earning a glare from his mother, "but I'm still a person. I'm the prince." His expression was serious, and he looked Killian right in the eye without a flinch.

Killian smiled. "No doubt you are," he replied, impressed by the lad's resilience.


Killian talked to Emma and Henry for almost an hour, getting to know them. No matter how much he asked, though, she wouldn't answer as to why she was being taken to Agrabah. He decided to stop pushing after awhile.

The princess began to warm up to him. She even told a joke. It was pretty bad, but the thought was nice.

Killian had never met Emma despite how much David used to talk about her. Every good word he had spoken of her was true. She was beautiful, smart, and brave, a strong and sure role model for her son. But she was also stubborn... maybe even a little ignorant.

Her son, Henry, was polite and friendly, much more open than his mother. He was eager to talk to the captain, asking him about his travels and his past.

Killian almost lost himself talking to them, but he soon realized where he was and the job laid out before him. "I should get back on deck, we need to get back on course soon," he told Emma.

Her expression fell. He knew she didn't want to be left alone in the small room with her son again. He felt bad that he couldn't keep them both company. "Alright..." she replied. "Wait-" He stopped when she grabbed his arm.

"What do you need?" he asked, meeting her eyes.

"We were given rations for the journey but half of them were spoiled by some... rats. If you could sneak us some food we'd be most grateful."

Killian paused. "As you wish," he responded after a moment.

He was about to open the trap door and enter his cabin, when the sound of footsteps padding above them made him freeze. He slowly turned to face the others, gesturing that they remain silent. Henry didn't move as his mother hurried to turn off the lights.

The footsteps traversed throughout the cabin above, a voice softly calling, "Captain, are you in here?" It was Watcher.

What the hell is he doing in my cabin? Killian thought in frustration.

It was torture remaining still and silent while Watcher invaded his quarters and tore through his belongings. At one point he heard something clatter on the ground. He had to keep from jumping out and tackling Watcher then and there.

"Where is that princess..." Watcher muttered as he explored the cabin further.

Killian sucked in a breath. Watcher had clearly not been sent by David, else he would have known where Emma and Henry were hiding. Perhaps he was one of those 'outside forces' David had mentioned.

It didn't matter a moment later, though, as the sound of a cannon firing made Killian perk up. The boat shook from the explosion, and dust fell from the ceiling. He heard Watcher dash out of the room and the sounds of his screaming crew were audible even in the hidden area.

I've got to get out there, he thought with panic, bursting out of the trap door and racing onto the main deck.

"We're under attack!" came shouts from all around him. People were running back and forth grabbing ropes, swords, and ammunition.

In the distance was a ship Killian could recognize anywhere, illuminated in the moonlight.

"Blackbeard."