And so one year has passed, slowly, dreadfully. The young princess took shelter in the forest, whilst the pirate sailed for months at sea, and without success, for he knows not where to go. His eyes have iced over, his heartbeat dulled, his birth name replaced by a moniker in a futile attempt to abandon his memories, his pain, his capability to love. While he lives in the past, the young girl seems to have lost all willingness to live at all. But revenge sparks brightly in her heart, their hearts, keeping them both alive. Revenge has taken shape as hope.

Then one winter's night, the needle of the young man's compass began to spin wildly in circles, as if possessed. When it stopped, it was pointing between the E and S. Toward the Enchanted Forest. Where the princess was.

His journey has finally begun. And hers? Why, it is only a matter of time.

Killi - no - Captain Hook takes one final step off of his ship and onto the wooden dock. He stares straight ahead, toward the dark and twisted forest, before taking one last glance at his ship. The Jolly Roger. His heart feels heavy and burdensome in his tight chest, but he knows what he must do. He nods once and raises two fingers to his temple, a simple salute for the only home he knew. But he knows that it will still be here when...if...he comes back.

He continues to walk until he reaches the edge of the woods. He stops to look around cautiously, curiously. Having spent years at a time on a crowded ship in the middle of the sea, the impossibly wide vastness and stillness of the forest perplex him.

Hook looks to his left, where he can barely make out the top of the turrets of a faraway castle. Raising an eyebrow, he shakes his head slightly and sighs exaggeratedly. Some people have it so good. It is unfair. But what he lacks in riches, he makes up for in appearance. Or so he thinks.

And with that, he treks deeper into the forest. Looking around, he cannot help but wonder what has happened here. The trees are black, the ground a dark brown, and the sky a sickly gray, as if someone has sucked out all of the colors from this world. A fitting place for a soulless crocodile, he thinks to himself.

He continues walking until he feels as if he has rocks in his shoes, cramps in his side, and a seemingly permanent frown etched on his face. A man of the sea, he is not used to journeying so long on the land. The sun begins to set slowly, casting a brilliant orange shade on every surface of the dark forest. Stopping to massage his thighs, he squints toward the sunset and decides he needs a break.

When he sees a huge and somewhat strange-looking rock, he walks toward it. He sits down with a grunt and leans against it, closing his eyes in fatigue. After a few seconds, he reaches into his bag, takes out his canteen, and begins to take a satisfying swig of the cool water. As he swallows, the earth begins to rumble, the rock starts moving.

Wait, what?

When he turns around, he is looking straight into a pair of eyes, each as big as his one hand. Inhaling sharply, his instincts take over, and he swings his hook into the eye of the beast. Instead of dying immediately, as Hook had expected, the monster roars angrily. Blood and a clear and smelly fluid begin to seep out of the eye. The beast grumbles and roars once more, directly into Hook's face.

Hook waves at the air in front of him, coughs exaggeratedly, and pulls a disgusted face. "What the bloody hell did you eat today?"

When the monster growls threateningly, Hook starts to back away, hands up in surrender. It quiets down and Hook smirks, "There, that's a good boy."

And the monster lunges toward him without a warning.

Shouting, Hook runs, his heart in his throat. He looks around desperately, but sees no escape. Perhaps he can climb a tree? He wonders if there is a cave of some sorts that he can hide in. Clutching his sides, he shakes his head. What kind of a creature looks like a bloody rock?

He begins to run faster, until he hears something fall to the ground, shaking the entire forest. It had to be the troll, right? Hook stops cautiously, and perks his ears, but hears nothing. So he retraces his steps, to find the troll lying in a peculiar position: on its stomach, sprawled with awkwardly placed legs, a thick arrow lodged in between its eyes. Hook looks around in alarm.

When he sees no one, he fears that his savior could actually be just as dangerous as the monster, the troll, whatever it was. So he begins to run.

All of a sudden, it hits him that he's just escaped from a bloody troll, so he whoops in delight and then, of course, runs smack into something.

He falls to the ground, landing on his back and hitting the bottom of his spine against a rock. (A real rock, this time.) Wincing, he struggles to get up. He has a hand to his head, his eyes are narrowed in pain.

"Watch where you're going!" he roars angrily, swiping a hand across his mouth and checking it for any traces of blood.

When he looks up, who does he see across from him, but a girl. Woman? Though her face is obscured by a large hood, he makes this inference easily from her dirty but small feet, her thin and pink lips, and dainty nose, which are all features far too feminine to belong to a man. He raises his eyebrows in appreciative surprise. This will be easier than he thought. He knows far too well the effect he can have on women.

"Me?!" The girl sounds incredulous, and she is obviously annoyed. Her voice is hoarse and dry, as if it hasn't been used in quite some time. She rises to her feet, dusting dirt off of her already-soiled clothes. "You're the one running around with your tail in between your legs!"

Hook bites his lip as an inappropriate joke threatens to spill from his lips. But for some reason, one that he cannot quite place his finger on, he decides that this woman is different. Something like that wouldn't make the best first impression on her. So he decides to tell the truth. "I was escaping from a deadly troll."

The girl's lips open into an 'O' of shock. "That was you?"

Just as Hook starts to lift his chin in pride, she shrieks, "Are you actually as stupid as you look?"

This is definitely not the reaction he had been expecting. His brows knit and his mouth opens in defense. "Wha-?"

"If you hadn't noticed, the giant's dead. Because of me."

Now it's Hook's turn to say, "That was you?"

They stare at each other for a few long seconds (or at least, he assumes she is staring at him, for he cannot see her eyes through her hood) before the girl sighs impatiently and grumbles, "And I guess a thank you is too much to ask for?"

"For what?"

She widens her eyes in mocking awe. "You really are an idiot, aren't you? I just saved your life."

"Excuse me, I don't need a - a - a savior," Hook finally finds the word he was searching for, and then raises an eyebrow. "I'm a survivor, I can take care of myself. It's what I do best."

The girl laughs, but it is hollow and mocking.

"Well, thank you," Hook says finally. But his pride gets in the way, and he adds with an air of dismissive confidence, "though I could have taken care of the troll myself."

The girl purses her lips. "Like I said, it was a giant. Obviously, you've never seen a troll before. They're much smaller and uglier. You aren't from around here, are you?"

Hook falls silent, and his gaze falls onto her curious attire. She is wearing a dress - or rather, the remains of one - which is covered in dirt and leaves. It is thin and sticks to her body, rather than puffing out. He nods toward it, and in attempt to avoid her question, comments, "Splendid dress, lass."

She doesn't even flinch and nods toward his arm. "Nice hook."

Hook frowns. Were the women different on this land? He doesn't know how to act around her and for the first time in years, he feels flustered.

She nods once at him before walking away.

"Wait!" he holds out his arm and cries out.

The girl stops, but doesn't turn around.

"Why don't we journey together?" Bloody hell, she was a lass, but she wasn't like any that he had known before. At that moment, Milah strays across his mind, but he pushes the memory away. For one, he knows nothing of the land, and though he may know much about the sea, that kind of knowledge would do nothing for him here. And she seems to know quite a lot. After all, she just killed a tro - giant. So why not?

She turns on her heel, pivoting so that she can face him, her hood still obscuring most of her face. It unnerves him that he cannot see where she is looking.

"And why would we do that?" Her voice is hard, but amusement seeps through it, as if laughing at even the prospect of cooperation.

"We can help each other."

"I can help you," she corrects him. "But how can you help me?"

He smirks and shrugs his shoulders in nonchalance. "I've heard that I make great company."

She scoffs, but just as she begins to turn away, he adds, "If we journey together and we both find what we need, I offer you passage to any realm you'd like."

He's got her attention and he knows it from the way her back has just stiffened. He barely attempts to conceal his triumphant grin.

"How?"

"Allow me to introduce myself," he bows slightly and simultaneously shakes his hook in her general direction. "Killian Jones. But most have taken to call me Hook. Captain Hook of the Jolly Roger."

He blows imaginary dust off of his hook and then wipes it on his coat. "If you help me get to where I have to go, I can take you wherever you want to go afterward."

"Creative name. How long did it take you to think of that one?" she smirks. She crosses her arms over her chest. "And just how do you know that I would want to leave this land?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Because you have no home. Or else you wouldn't be here. Seems to me that any place would be better than this one."

He watches as she squeezes her lips tightly together. She closes her eyes as she remembers the tower where she has rotted away for the past decade or so and murmurs inaudibly, "You're wrong."

"Pardon?"

"I said you're wrong," she raises her voice. "There are places far worse than this forest, Captain, I'm surprised that such a place like this scares you."

"Scare me? Nothing can scare me, darling, I'm the bloody captain of the Jolly Roger and a brilliant one at that. Why, I..." he trails off when he realizes that she isn't listening and is walking ahead of him. After a few steps, she stops and turns to face him. "Well? What are you waiting for? We haven't got all day."

Biting his upper lip to suppress his delight, he all but runs after her.

"What's your name, darling?" Hook asks. The girl does not respond. He raises an eyebrow and exhales slowly. "Not a big talker, are you, love?"

She turns around suddenly. "Don't call me that."

"Well, I need something to call you by," he scoffs impatiently.

Her voice gets lower and she finally replies, "Emma."

She bites her lip, afraid that he will recognize her as the lost princess, for although he is a stranger to this land, she cannot afford to take any chances. So she invents her own surname. "Swan. Emma Swan."

He nods in appreciation. "Emma Swan. Well, it's a pleasure to meet you."

She clicks her tongue in response.

After a long minute of silence, she asks him without turning back, "Where are you headed?"

Hook frowns. "I'm searching for a man."

"Are you here for business?"

"One could say that," he remarks coolly. "I wish to kill him."

She purses her lips. "I, too, am in search of a man."

He raises his eyebrows when she says nothing else.

"It doesn't frighten you that you're traveling with a to-be murderer?" Hook chuckles slightly. "Though I suppose my appearance must make the idea much more appealing."

"Of course it doesn't frighten me," she replies. "For death is a fate too kind for the man I seek."

Impressed and yet also taken aback, he exhales slowly and raises a brow. He lowers his voice. "He took away someone you loved, didn't he?"

Her breath audibly catches in her throat and her pace quickens. For the first time since they have met, she suddenly feels afraid of him. He has known her for not even an hour, and she feels as if he can read her mind, past the walls that she has been building her entire life. She asks finally, "How did you know?"

"What other motive is as strong as love?"

Her response is silence.

After a few seconds, Emma seems to have recovered. She clears her throat and attempting to change the flow of conversation (for she hates to talk about herself), she declares, "We need to set some ground rules."

Hook scowls. He hates all of this official business, rules, deals, blah blah. He doesn't even attempt to hide the exasperation in his tone. "Is that really necessary, lass?"

She ignores him and says, "I will help you find the man you are searching for, and in return, you give me passage to a land far from here."

She looks at him, not questioningly, but with an almost annoying confidence that will not accept no for an answer. He rolls his eyes in response.

She holds up two fingers. "Second. We stick together, no matter what."

He raises an eyebrow and licks the corner of his lip slightly. He deliberately and shamelessly allows his gaze to travel up and down her figure. "No need to worry about that."

Emma throws him a reproachful glance and continues. "Rule three. No backstories, no personal talks, no flirting, no nothing. We're just working together, and that's it."

Hook purses his lips. This girl is much more difficult than he had imagined. His brows knit in obvious annoyance.

"And the last rule: we keep to ourselves. Nobody in this kingdom is trustworthy anymore."

"Isn't that a bit dramatic, love?" His eyebrows shoot up.

"It's a necessary precaution," she responds, and there is an edge to her tone that suggests that she knows something he doesn't. "Nothing is safe anymore."

He dismisses this and concludes, "So four rules. Why not end on five? It's a nice, sturdy number."

Emma purses her lips. "And what would the fifth rule be?"

"Rule number five," Hook pauses. "We don't fall in love with each other."

She immediately bursts into laughter, and he is pleasantly surprised at the sound of it. It is genuine and for the first time, happy. His brief moment of awe immediately dies away when she chokes out, "And you said my last rule was dramatic?"

He crosses his arms and smirks, "I wouldn't be so confident if I were you, darling."

"Oh, please," Emma retorts. "That won't happen in a thousand years."

"A thousand years is not as long as you think, lass."

When Emma looks up at him in curiosity, she finds that he is looking away, his eyes cloudy and far off, almost as if...

"Well then, that's that," Hook says suddenly, bringing her back from her reverie. "Our five rules."

He stops walking and extends his hand. She holds her chin out and then extends her own, to meet his. They shake once. She is the first to let go, immediately, as if she is afraid of catching disease.

"Let's keep going, shall we?" Emma continues without waiting for him. But his longer strides make it easy for him to catch up.

"What happens if one of us breaks a rule?" Hook asks.

Emma abruptly stops walking, so that he nearly bumps into her. She whirls around and pulls her hood off of head, revealing her face for the first time.

His eyes flutter slightly when he sees her. Her golden hair is streaked with mud and hanging in messy waves, and her eyes are a brilliant shade of light green, rimmed with a dark set of tangled eyelashes. Her cheeks are tinged a lovely pink, and a thin layer of dirt covers her face. For someone with such a quick temper and annoying confidence, she really looks like a...like a woman.

Emma turns around to gaze at him. She looks at him, really looks at him, straight into his electric blue eyes, as if staring into his soul. Her eyes search him, making him feel vulnerable, a sensation that is incredibly rare for the brave and heartless pirate. "I'll kill you."

"Who says it's me who's going to break it?"

She falls silent, and an unreadable expression crosses her face suddenly, pooling in her eyes.

"Well, it sure as hell isn't going to be me."

The hardest of hearts, it is a competition of silence from which emerges no victor. As if they are afraid of saying too much about themselves. And yet the air is thick with tension, unanswered questions, and a mutual but begrudging respect.

So the unlikely pair of lost souls trudge through the demented forest, not knowing that they are searching for the same man, the same happiness they have not experienced for years. Happiness that the entire kingdom has not felt since the Evil Queen's enactment of the curse.

And my dear reader, you do know what they say about curses, don't you?

They are made to be broken.

As are rules.