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Killian Jones was frustrated.
Four days he'd been in this sodding town. Four days he'd sat, perched atop the roof of the clocktower, watching his prey like a hawk. By now, he knew Rumplestiltskin's every bloody movement, from the moment he awoke in the morning until the minute he went to bed at night. He'd barely slept, save for small snatches here and there, out of fear that if he let his guard down, he'd lose site of his Crocodile. Smee brought him nourishment and other amenities whenever he deemed it necessary, but apart from that, he'd yet to waver from his post.
You'd think, by now, he would have a reasonable plan of attack in place. He even had the perfect bait.
Finding out about the pawnshop owner's pretty lady friend was a major boon, indeed. It may have been decades since he's last laid eyes on her, but Hook recognized her immediately. She was the imprisoned girl that he'd once sought out in an attempt to gain information about how to kill the Dark One. She'd not been very forthcoming, to his increasing annoyance. Apparently, from what he'd managed to observe, she actually loved the wretched sack of filth. He could only assume that the girl was naieve to the imp's ways.
What was truly shocking was the fact that the beast was positively besotted with her.
Oh, irony of ironies...
Taking her away from him the way the bastard had taken his Milah...it would be so easy. And a much more fitting punishment than a simple, full-frontal assault. No...gutting that thing would be much too quick a death than he deserved. To watch his lover die-while he was helpless to stop it-now that would be a most satisfying way to make the man suffer. He'd have to live with that memory for the rest of his miserable existence.
And since Rumple was effectively immortal...well...he could be certain the man's agony would never end.
What a lovely thought...
No...Killian's frustration was coming from an altogether different person: Emma Swan.
When he'd first arrived in Storybrooke, she had been the absolute last person on his mind. True, he was still smarting at having been bested by her-a third time, no less-but if he was honest with himself, Killian knew he'd all but given her that last fight. He was a three hundred year old pirate, by the Gods! And she could barely wield a sword. If he'd wanted her dead, she would've been dead. But as much as she'd angered him with her betrayal, he knew that this battle against Cora wasn't worth Emma's life.
He'd already stolen one mother away from her child, and she had died for his selfishness. He'd be damned if he let it happen again. And certainly not at that grotesque witch's hand.
Before his thoughts became too much more morose, he was brought back to reality by the arrival of Smee, who, judging by the time of the day, was probably dropping off more supplies.
"Lunch, Cap'n?" His rotund first mate asked as he plopped himself down next to Hook, handing over a covered paper plate and a thermos.
"Very good, Smee," Hook sighed as he took the offerings and set them aside, "but I'm afraid I've not much of an appetite right at the moment. Too much on my mind, I suppose."
Killian found it oddly comforting, being able to confide in an old friend. He'd genuinely missed the blubbering nonce and had never expected he'd find the man again, so it came came as a complete suprise when Smee had actually been the one to find him.
This was Smee, after all. The crafty bugger could find a needle in a bleedin' haystack.
Apparently, the marina was his second home, so once he'd spied the Jolly Roger pulling into port (before Cora'd thrown an invisibility enchantment over the ship)...well...it was easy enough to figure things out from there. He was only too happy to press himself into service again for his old master, and of course, it wasn't as though Hook would've given him much choice anyways. His crew, his demands, after all.
"What's got you in such a state, sir? I-If I might ask?" Smee queried cautiously.
"It's...it's nothing really, mate," Hook replied wistfully, his attention and spyglass firmly affixed on a point somewhere across the street. "Just starting to get restless a bit, sitting up here for hours on end and all that."
Yeah. Smee wasn't buy that excuse at all. He followed Hook's line of sight all the way to its end: Granny's. He knew the Captain was well aware of the fact that Rumple had taken his meal at the library, to spend time with Belle today. No...he was aiming sights right at the front window, behind which, the one and only 'savior of the realm' happened to be be sitting and enjoying a cup of hot cocoa with her mother, Snow White.
This was too much. Captain Hook did not pine after a woman. It was they who fought eachother for a mere moment with him. Captain Hook did not get seduced; it was he who did the seducing-leaving many a ravaged woman and even some broken marriages-in his wake. He never fell because the only satisfaction that had come to mean anything to him in three hundred long years, was his revenge.
Not that his master wasn't still dedicated, of that Smee was sure. But if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes...
Killan Jones was smitten.
Abruptly, Hook pulled back his spyglass and turned to his first mate, saying, "That will be all, Smee. Thank you. Now, run along and keep tabs on my Crocodile, would you? I want a full report by the time you return with the evening meal. Am I clear?" His tone brooked no argument.
"Quite, sir. By your leave, Cap'n..." Smee trailed off as he hastily beat feet. It was never a good idea to be around the Captain was he was in one of his 'moods'.
And Killian was definitely in one this afternoon. Even with everything else he had to worry about, he simply could not get the Swan girl off his mind. Despite his initial fury at her actions against him, he found himself unable to stay mad at her for very long. Truth be told, he actually understood her reasoning all too well. Just as he was unflinching in his desire to see the Dark One pay, so was she to reunite with her son. Killian had to give credit to her courage and cunning because the woman had bucketloads of both.
He wasn't kidding when he'd said she'd make a stunning pirate.
But that wasn't what had initially captivated him about her. No...it was her ability call him out on his lies and see through his facade of roguish charm. He'd never had to work that hard for a woman's affections before, and he was finding the challenge thoroughly refreshing, if not a bit irritating at the same time.
Emma Swan was the most obstinate woman he'd ever met, but when she'd asked him about Milah on top of that beanstalk, and then finally managed to let her guard down just the tiniest fraction with the truth about her past love, he saw something in her that utterly shook him to his core.
He saw himself.
All the pain and loss, the anger and despair-it was like looking in a mirror. He'd never felt so fiercely connected with someone in his entire life. Which was why, when she'd left him strung up there for ten mind-numbing hours, he'd been unbelievably gutted. He really had been planning to keep to his word about the compass, and not only for the fact that they were a safer bet than Cora, but because he really did enjoy her company.
And he honestly thought they could help eachother. Perhaps that was why he was so venomous with Emma when he'd trapped her in Rumplestiltskin's old cell. Granted, taking the sleeping princess' heart was probably not the most honorable thing to do, but he was desperate...and so incredibly furious. He'd never been so upended over a woman before, and he suspected, it was this same emotion that caused his Swan to bolt they way she had.
When had he begun to think of her as his? Bloody hell...
She was too afraid of investing herself, of trusting, only to have him turn around and disappear as soon as he was done with her. She was leaving him before he could leave her.
And that was why Killian couldn't find it within himself to feed her to the sharks during that last skirmish with Cora. He knew Emma would've rushed the witch full-on, if she'd had the chance. She would've given her life to get back to her son. He also knew Cora wouldn't have hesitated to rip her to pieces with but a flick of her wrist. The odds were horribly stacked against her unless he managed to distract her, so he resorted to his best tactic: blatant innuendo. If his toying with her could keep Emma out of Cora's way, she stood a much better chance of getting her hands on the compass. He wasn't really worried about his mealticket.
He did have the bean, after all.
Gods help him, but the blasted woman was beginning to occupy his every thought. And he absolutely could not lose focus on his mission. He owed it to Milah.
Sod it.
There was only one way to end this confounding obsession-he would have his way with her. And this would not be a quick roll in the hay, either. No...he'd ravish her in true pirate fashion, and when he'd bled every last drop of maddening lust from his body, she would be thoroughly sated, devastated, and obliterated from his mind.
Then he could go back to the business at hand...skinning himself a Crocodile.
Cora was not at all shocked by George's choice in home decor. She fully expected him to be living as lavishly as possible. He was, after all, royalty. Even if he had been displaced most disgracefully. That, she knew, was what always made him weak-his crippling need for luxury.
And his intensely bitter hatred of Prince Charming and Snow White. Which was why she'd sought him first. Offer the man the means to destroy his enemies, and she was sure he'd jump at the chance like a wraith in a shitstorm. Besides, king or no king, he knew better than to defy her. Even before Regina's reign of terror, he'd seen the destruction she was capable of.
Yes...she was quite confident that he'd go along with her plans. And either way...she had the best insurance policy magic could buy.
At the moment, she was seated in the parlor, awaiting George's return with increasing levels of ire.
Finally, after a few more minutes, he entered the room carrying what looked to be some sort of ornately designed tea service. He set the tray down on the coffee table carefully and proceeded to pour out two cups of the beverage, handing the first one to her, while taking a seat with the second.
"Why, thank you, George," Cora drawled with false gratitude. "I was feeling rather...parched."
The former monarch nodded and replied, somewhat nervously, "Cora...not that I'm not curious about just how the hell you got here, but...you do realize that the curse has been broken? Last time I checked, you and your daughter were not on the best of terms...and that was before she tried to kill you. Now that magic has been brought into this realm and Regina has that power at her disposal...well...don't you think you're taking a huge risk coming out into open like this?"
Cora placed her teapcup back on the serving dish daintily and gave his hand a condescending little pat. "Now, Now...don't you worry yourself about such things, dear. I will handle my daughter, " and the smile she gave him was the epitome of chilling. "Right now, I have much bigger plans in store for you."
"What exactly are you getting at?" He asked, stubbornly. George might fear what she was capable of, but he was damn sure not about to get sucked into one of her mind games.
"I'm here to offer an olive branch of sorts," Cora began, reaching into her cloak and pulling out a tightly wrapped, oddly shaped object. She laid it on her lap reverently and continued, "because I know that, despite our...differences...we both untimately want the same thing-this kingdom back where it belongs."
"And the Charmings destoyed," he quickly supplied, just as she knew he would.
She slowly unwrapped the object, just enough for George to get an identifying glimpse. When he realized what it was, his face drained of color. If Cora still had the ability care, she might've found his reaction amusing.
"Is that-" he gulped, arching his eyebrows and pointing a quivering finger at what she held. "Is that what I think it is?"
"If you mean the one weapon that can destroy Rumplestiltskin...then you would be correct," she answered succintly, wrapping the blade back up and leaning towards him conspiratorially. "This is your first step. Use this, and you can put him in the ground once and for all. After that, with me handling Regina, there will be no one else in your way powerful enough to stop you from taking back what is yours and eradicating the Charmings from existence."
By now, old Georgie-boy was grinning like the cat that got the canary. Shame she was going to have to wipe that smirk of his face before long.
"Cora, you are one monstrous piece of work...but I like the way you think."
"Of course you do, because my plan works in your favor," she quipped, wanting to nip George's enthusiasm in the bud before he got ahead of himself. "Do not insult my intelligence by attempting to convince me that your intentions towards this alliance are anything less than altruistic. You forget, dearie...I know you."
"I wouldn't presume to," he replied, reaching out to take the dagger. Before he could get ahold of it, though, Cora pulled back, shaking a finger slowly back and forth, so close to his face, it was almost up his nose.
"Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast," she cooed, mirthlessly. "You are not to confront him directly, am I understood?"
"Well, yes, but...I mean, how-" but she cut him off before he could finish, having become tired of his game of twenty questions.
"I have someone in mind for the job. Someone much more...motivated...and far less concerned about getting his hands dirty. You, I simply wish to be my courier. Now listen, and listen well. You will go in town and make contact with a man named Smee. Trust me, he will not be difficult to find. Tell him you have some information that his master would be very highly interested in. If he balks, make it worth his wile-however much you deem sufficient. When Hook meets with you-and I assure you, he will-" and at this, she slipped the package into his hands, "-give him the dagger. Tell him it is the answer he seeks, and that with it, he can finally skin his Crocodile."
"Very well. But after the deed is done and that...creature...is no more, then we can get down to the heart of our bargain, correct? Taking our power back?" George asked, with the slight hint of a five year-old's eagerness.
"The heart...yes...of course," Cora grinned wickedly, and suddenly, all traces of enthusiasm were banished from the King's face.
I should've seen it coming. It is, after all, her way.
And then he felt it-that sharp, soul-wrenching tug against his ribcage. His eyes went like saucers, and a choking gasp was torn from his lungs as he turned his gaze slowly, agonizingly downward.
Cora's hand was buried deeply within his chest, tendrils of magic encasing his heart, which she ripped out with nothing more than a wet squish.
Holding the heart securely in the palm of her hand, she listened as it steadily beat a melody only for her to hear. It was music to her hears.
She placed it carefully in her satchel and then rose to leave.
George could only look on in horrified silence. He knew now that he would never get his kingdom back. If he was lucky, he might be able to escape with his life, although the chances of that were petrifyingly slim.
"I trust we won't have any further...disagreements? I would hate to have to crush what what we've built, you know. That would be disappointing, wouldn't it?"
Thanks for all the positive reviews. Hope you continue to enjoy the story. Please don't make the wrong assumption about Hook at first glance from the way I've written him. I'm starting him off the closest to the way I think his state of mind would be at this point. Trust me, he'll change his tune soon enough. Keeping this T for now, but may raise it to M in the next chapter if I manage to get to the sexual stuff quick enough.
