A/n: This chapter takes a slight POV shift, not something that had been originally planned, but I do believe that since Killian is "the ruffian" after all, he deserves to take the lead.


The tavern was dimly lit, my eyes adjusting to the flickering candlelight as I stepped inside, surveying the scene before me. Women throwing themselves at worn out workmen, sailors fresh from sea, drowning away in their longing for a woman they left at another port. The worst of the worst that London had to offer, pocketing and stealing whatever wasn't nailed down to the table.

Though I was one to talk. My fingers itching as I snatched up a loose money pouch, left dangling from the belt of a drunken sailor who was slumped over a table. It was hardly worth stealing, a few halfpennies that would buy a single pint. Which was certainly needed on a night like tonight.

I grabbed up the pewter mug as it was sat on the bar before me, clutching it in my hand as I made my way to the back of the tavern. My lips were pressed thin as I spotted the reason for my visit to the dingy establishment. "This place certainly isn't Yorkshire, is it?" A hollow laugh escaped my lips as I sank on to the bench, eyes trained on the ale in my mug.

The woman pushed back the hood that concealed her identity, I could feel her eyes on me and I cringed. I hated what my life had become, but in all honesty it was nothing more than what I had always known. I'd made mistakes, terrible ones, and I still sought to avenge the crimes that had been done because of it. I had never found reason to play the rules, until the year that I broke many and someone I cared for paid the price for my folly.

"It may not be what I am used to, but I'm certain this is the sort of place you spend your down time," I glanced up to see her sneer, a forced smile on my lips in response.

"I've not come to be judged for my life, I've plenty of time to do that myself. What do you want?"

The Countess leaned back against the booth, her eyes alight with something sinister, "Lord Graham has informed me of a sort of… friendship formed between you and a certain woman-" My mind flickered instantly to the Swan girl, but allowed no betrayal of emotion on my face, "You know my designs for her, I want you to help me destroy her – and for your aid I'll ruin the Count."

My eyes fluttered and I quickly downed a swig of ale, hoping that the liquor would numb the frustration that hummed in my mind. "You've promised to ruin him before and you abandoned it for higher causes." I snapped, brows furrowing together. "Swan girl seems ruined enough, if I might add. At the gala scarcely a single person, aside from her friends and relations, paid her mind. For a lady of wealth I find that quite odd."

"Well," She sneered, tapping the rim of her own mug of ale, "Why does a handsome man like you earn a living by doing deeds for the rich in a pursuit of avenging a lost love?"

I narrowed my eyes at her, "I shan't talk of her with you. Her death is not something to trivialize for the sake of you proving some point to me." I sat back against the chair, crossing my arms across my chest. "If you intend to compare my past with hers, I think they won't compare. A lady of Yorkshire and a rat from a debtors prison having nothing akin between them."

"Ah," She purred out, a coy smirk on her lips as she sipped her ale, "But you're from Yorkshire as well," My eyes widened at her words, "Killian, I know all of your past."

"You know the Count, that's why," I gritted out, bristling at the look she gave me. "Listen," I leaned forward, dropping my voice, "I'll do what you want. But, promise me that this will bring an end to the Count. Finally."

"Oh, it will," She arched a brow, leaning back and returning the cloak over her head, "End Miss Swan and I will end the Count."

"Thank you," I rose to my feet, giving a short bow, chugging down the last of my ale before excusing myself. My heart ached at the thought of what I was now assigned to do, but ten years of trying to make the Count pay for his crime outweighed whatever connection I had found between myself and Miss Swan. She had been a bright spot in the darkness I had lived in for so long, but even the smallest star couldn't cast illumination over the entire void that I dwelt in. I couldn't move on until the Count met an end and it seemed that to do so, would also mean bringing down Swan, a price that had to be paid.


"There's a letter for you."

My attention peaked at that, turning round in my seat to face my maid, "A letter for me?" My fingers trembled anxiously as she placed the neatly creased parchment into my hands. I turned it over to see the name scrawled neatly on the front. I could hardly read, but I could enough so that I could make out most words done in a legible hand. I had read several books, though it took weeks to finish them, when others could devour them in days.

"Miss Swan." My maid said with a small smile, pointing to the front of the letter, "Do you need me to read it for you?"

"No," I said sharply, "I'll do it myself." I nodded towards the door, wanting her to leave me be. I broke the seal of the letter, opening it and scanning it first, before reading it.

Ruffian,

I know I was perhaps quite cross with you when last we met. You must forgive me, I was shaken from the collapse and confused by your connections with Lord Graham. I'm sure, as I said then, you know something of my past and you might even understand why you knowing them made me so wary of you. But, please forgive me. Your presence at the ball, for whatever reason it may have been, granted my one wish for my birthday. Not to be alone the whole night. So this epistle is here to thank you for that and to seek your forgiveness. As you might have noticed since I've referred to that several times now. I've enclosed the address of the Lucas', the family that I live with. I would find it quite agreeable if you could perhaps visit soon, as forward as that might be. You yourself said you despised that women and men are treated differently and I am writing on that account. I have been treated differently my whole life and it was nice to feel something akin to normal for once. I've rambled on long enough, I again seek your forgiveness for my behavior, and would also care to say that the book you imparted to me was quite good.

Miss Swan

I scanned the letter over numerous times before all of her words finally sank in. The realization of what I had agreed to do for the Countess washed over me on my third look over the letter and I wished to crumple the piece of parchment and feign ignorance. But, I could not. For some foolish reason, I found myself compelled to keep the letter, close to my heart, in the breast pocket where the last image of her remained.

"I'm going out." I called to my maid, wherever she may be in my small place, before I departed out the door and into the sooty London street. I straightened my worn vest, running a hand through my disheveled hair. I played no pretenses when there wasn't a reason to. Worn garments and a worn spirit, I suppose. I was nothing more than a hired man, set on one goal, and apparently unwilling to stop the fight for anything. Or anyone.

"Miss Swan," I gaped slightly as she stepped out of a carriage just before me, I glanced towards the building she was about to enter – a milliner's place, before looking back to her. "I was just set to visit."

"Oh," She looked surprised at that, "I expected that you would ignore the letter. No one ever comes back." She bit her lip briefly before shaking off the surprise, "I was just here to fetch an order I'd placed. You're welcome to join me."

"You wouldn't mind being seen with a ruffian like myself?" I smirked, giving her a teasing look as I followed alongside her to the door.

A flash of a smile, that brought heat to my cheeks crossed her lips, "I've been seen with worse," She offered, thanking me quietly as I opened the door for her. "I'm here to collect my order, E. Charming."

I cocked a brow at her and was met by a silencing gaze, "Ah," I said with a hum, adding in a quiet voice. "I'm J. Hook."

"What do you know," She grinned, that playful look in her eyes that I'd seen on the balcony, making my heart flutter foolishly.

"Here's the hat Miss," The matron sat the box on the counter, taking the bank notes from Miss Swan.

"And what has the lady procured?" I questioned as we made our way back to the door. "Some fine rig to tie to your head?"

"A gift for Miss Lucas," She laughed with a roll of her eyes, opening the box enough for me to look in. "A fine red hat, it's her favorite colour."

"How kind of you," I tucked my hands behind my back, standing taller as a gentleman passed us, a sneer on his face as he looked at me for a brief moment. "I'm out of my element even here." I sighed, following her back to the carriage. "Shall I meet you-"

"Get in the carriage," She said drolly, as the carriage man opened the door for her, helping her inside. I followed her in, flustered by the offer and equally confused. "You're an unusual woman Miss Swan."

"And you are an usual man. But you don't see me complain," She smirked at me, a challenge in her eyes that brought a smile to my lips. "Do you?"

"No," I replied, matching her smirk, sitting across from her in the carriage. "Perhaps you're too much a lady to complain."

"And are you too much a gentleman to complain? Are you even a gentleman?"

I laughed at that, flashing a smug grin, "I'm always a gentleman, love." It was easy to be near her, as if the weight of the world and my past had lifted from my shoulders and I could simply forget. But, I couldn't – especially not now. I had to remind myself in that moment that my revenge was more important than this blond haired lass who was looking at me with a mixture of annoyance and adoration.

"Always a gentleman, really?" She widened her eyes for emphasis, before turning her gaze to out the window, a smile on her lips, which I noted with far too much interest. "A ruffian gentleman, how unusual." Her tone was nothing short of mocking, but in a way that it didn't strike me as an offense.

I scoffed, "You make it sound as if I'm a petty thief."

"Oh? And you didn't steal from the gentleman that passed by you?" She tilted her head, pointing to my waistcoat. "I have eyes you know."

"Eyes you say? I'd have never guessed." I rolled my own, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the pouch, "Observant."

Emma smirked at me, a twinkle in her eyes, "I'm watching you Killian Jones or J. Hook, or who ever you might be."

"I would despair if you didn't." I retorted with a grin.

She would be easy to ruin.