Breathe, Emma, breathe, the princess told herself, clutching the cell bars for support, her breathing shallow and rapid.
First things first, let's start simple. She took another deep breath, leaning her head against the bars. Okay. So, Hook knows my real name, which means he almost certainly knows I'm the Princess of Snow White's kingdom. Emma slowly straightened, taking one step and then another away from the bars, and began pacing. The question is, why would he be taking me to slave traders if he knows he could get a ransom-
"Shit." Emma hissed, freezing, everything suddenly coming together.
The searching glance he had given her in the cell before the inspectors had come, the glance she had barely even noticed.
The way he had hesitated before saying 'Jade'.
The men had been talking about the ransom before Hook had gone, she knew. Hook must've heard and gone out to look, recognizing her instantly from the ransom poster.
Now, the question was: where was he taking her? She increased the speed of her pacing, her heartbeat increasing along with it until she could feel it pounding against her ribcage. There were two options: one, he could be taking her back home, to her parents.
Or, he could be taking her to Neal.
The princess wrung her hands, her mind racing, before finally she slowed down, closing her eyes. If she freaked out now, she would get nowhere. She needed to approach this carefully; it could be that Hook hadn't realized his slip-up, and she could yet get information out of him if she was lucky.
Her mind made up, Emma lowered herself back down to the hard mattress that served as her bed, tossing and turning until finally, just before dawn, she fell into a fitful, restless sleep.
"Good morning, Princess." Emma opened her eyes instantly, springing out of bed.
"Hook." so he had noticed; she would not get any information out of him, by the looks of it. His brilliant blue eyes were cold and guarded, his face set and stern, the rest of his body tense.
"That's Captain to you, princess," he said, not as bitingly as he usually did. Emma took another look at him, her curiosity alighting. He seemed... distant almost. His walls were high up; she could tell, mostly because she'd done the same thing when she was scared or out of her element. The question was, why was he doing it? She couldn't detect a hint of fear in his eyes, nor in his stance, and fear was something she was an expert in. Either he was that good of an actor, or it was something other than fear that had caused his walls to spring up. She wasn't sure which one it was.
Hook smirked at her, and Emma realized she'd been analyzing him for too long.
"Can't get enough of me? I have to say, I've never before fucked a princess before. Perhaps this will be a learning experience for both of us." Emma felt the strange mixture of emotions she often seemed to have around Hook: Annoyance, offense, disgust, and another emotion she didn't want to admit.
Emma scoffed. "I've had quite enough of you already," she said boldly. After all, Hook needed to keep her alive for ransom; he couldn't risk ruining his chance for riches, could he? It also explained why, lately, his threats hadn't been as... threatening. He couldn't give damaged property back to her parents. Or Neal, her head reminded her silently. Shut up, she replied.
Hook made a tsking sound. "Quite daring, aren't we, princess?" Emma tilted her head defiantly.
"You have to keep me alive for ransom; you can not risk damaging me and thus risking your chances at a ransom." Hook raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth quirking slightly.
"Is that so?" he asked, rhetorically, in Emma's opinion. She gave no reply, merely staring at him from across the bars.
Finally, Hook shrugged. "I'd best get you out, now. Just because you're a princess doesn't mean you don't have to work." Emma's nostrils flared, and she bit back the angry retort about to come, remaining silent as Hook unlocked her cell. She stepped forwards, intending to exit her prison, realizing too late that instead of stepping back like he usually did, he had remained still, meaning the princess bumped into him. Instantly, his arms circled around her, pulling her closer, no matter how much she struggled.
"It's about bloody time," his accented voice said right above her ear. Emma glared into his shoulder, continuing her struggle, but he kept his hold tight.
"Let go of me, Hook," the princess said, trying to keep the tremor of growing fear out of her voice. That was the other emotion she'd so often felt around him- fear. She had heard of, as well as seen and felt, what he could do, and it terrified her. It didn't help matters that she could feel something hard and undeniably masculine against her currently.
"Why so eager? I'm sure we could... figure something out," he purred seductively, and for the first time, she almost wanted to give in to him, to let him have his way with her body, but then he shifted, pushing her against the bars, and the fear came back.
For the first time in weeks, Emma felt her powers surging back into her control, strangely enough coinciding with the desire that had welled up inside her for the briefest of moments.
"Let go of me!" she cried, a powerful blast of magic making Hook go flying through the air and land in a heap on the floor. Instead of dissipating, however, her fear only returned, stronger this time, only it wasn't directed entirely at Hook. It was at herself.
What have I done? It wasn't that she cared for him, not at all; it was the mere idea of hurting someone like that.
She watched in stunned horror as Hook slowly pulled himself off the floor, bracing herself for the look of horror, fear, and disgust she always saw on people's faces after she did anything with her magic, even if it was break a glass window. Instead, she saw awe, and a bit of new wariness, but not the flat out panic she normally saw in people's eyes.
"You..."
"...have magic. Very observant," Emma said bitterly. She hated her powers, hated them with a passion. It was her parent's fault she had them; being the product of True Love and the 'Savior', whatever that was supposed to mean. Hook opened his mouth, still with that strange expression on his face, and then closed it again, a shadow passing over his face so quickly she couldn't tell what it was, before he resumed his mask. Without another word, he turned and strode out the door, leaving her with no choice but the follow him.
The sea had always calmed Emma, even when she was an 'orphan' living on the streets, and it calmed her then as she sat, knees pulled to her chest, back against a crate, gazing out at the endless expanse of water. For the first time all day, she allowed herself to think of her current predicament.
She was doomed whether Hook was taking her back to her parents, or to Neal, she realized. Even if he took her back to her parents, she doubted they had a choice as to whether or not she was wed to Neal; who knows, she could have already been wed in an absentee wedding. So the problem to think about was how to survive, and eventually escape, Neal.
"Does she calm you, too?" Emma spun around, still on the ground, and craned her neck to look up.
"You call the ocean she?" Hook raised an eyebrow, perhaps seeing through her deflection, perhaps surprised she hadn't jumped on the 'too' part, perhaps surprised he had even said the 'too' part.
"But of course. She is my lady," he said, that infuriating smirk slipping onto his face again. "But back to my question. Does she?"
"Does she what?" Emma asked, knowing she could only delay for so long but not wanting to give even the tiniest bit of information about herself away, especially since she had divulged one of her largest secrets earlier that day.
Hook quirked a brow. "Come now, love, you know what I mean. Don't play dumb."
"What do you mean?"
Hook stepped closer to her, casting his shadow over her. He peered down at her intently, and Emma sprang up, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden, but it merely made Hook lean even closer. Emma swallowed uncomfortably, not liking the intensity behind his gaze. In some ways, this was worse than earlier, when she'd been sure he was going to take her right then and there; she felt even more vulnerable now, as if he could see everything about her. Then she told herself to stop thinking that nonsense. They weren't some lost soulmates or some crap like that; true love only existed for her parents.
Emma had to stop herself from snorting. Had she just thought about true love and Hook in the same sentence without putting a not in there somewhere?
"Someone hurt you, Swan," he said quietly, from the looks of it not just surprising Emma but himself as well. Beginning to panic- because no one had ever been able to read her that well- at all, really- she straightened, responding quickly.
"Yes, that would be you, if I remember correctly," Emma said as coolly as she could, knowing how easily this could set him off again, but almost preferring his anger to this, this... softness, because at least she always knew the cruelty was real. The softness wasn't, and she hated it because it was at times like this that she began to forget that it was.
Emma watched as Hook's eyes widened briefly, before a flash of something passed by them, until finally they became guarded again, though somehow softer than before.
"Emma," he said, expression unreadable- or maybe that was because Emma didn't want to know what he was thinking.
"Captain," Emma said stiffly, trying to ignore the strange, not altogether unpleasant, feeling that had begun to grow in her chest upon hearing him say her name.
Hook looked up- when had he even looked down? She had no idea- and met her eyes. For a long moment, he gazed at her, blue eyes intense and swirling with the beginnings of a storm- of what, she really didn't want to know- and then suddenly, he straightened, eyes becoming blank and dark and unreadable as he backed up. Emma kept a sigh of relief in, not wanting him to know just how much a simple look could scare her, and took a step forward, trying to move past him. She brushed briefly against him as she moved, and both princess and pirate tensed. Emma took a quick, awkward step out of his reach, paused for a fraction of a second to see if he was going to try to stop her, before fleeing back to her cell as fast as she could without flat out running.
It only occurred to her hours later, that she had never answered his question.
An hour after that, she realized he had never asked her the question again.
The next morning, as Hook came in to wake her, Emma was already awake. She had spent the night alternating between fitful sleep and wakefulness, until just before dawn, she'd given up and taken to pacing the tiny area of her cell.
"Princess," Hook said, sounding surprised.
"Hook," Emma answered, searching his face for any signs of yesterday's weakness. Falseness, she reminded herself. He wasn't being weak, he was acting weak. Thankfully, she found none; she'd always preferred people to be too cruel than to be too soft, as cruelty was much harder to fake than softness. It was more real, more genuine, it could be trusted. Gentleness could not be trusted, she had learned that from the streets, from Neal.
"You're up early," he commented, disturbing her from her thoughts.
"No earlier than you are," the princess shot back. Hook raised an eyebrow, apparently surprised at her attitude, but not making a comment on it. He strode towards her cell, unlocked it, and then stepped back, apparently not wanting a repeat of the day before. He isn't the only one, Emma thought dryly, as she stepped out, carefully avoiding Hook. They silently strode out of the brig, each going off to their own separate duties.
As Emma stepped into the galley, her only thought was, annoyingly enough, a devilishly handsome pirate with one hand and a pair of bright blue eyes.
The next day, Hook came into the brig looking pale and drawn, his mask on and expression completely unreadable.
"Out with you, wench," he said coldly as he unlocked the door. Emma said nothing, quickly brushing past him, trying to find relief at his coldness. Instead, she felt a small, aching hurt. For what? she asked herself sternly. There was nothing he should be able to do that should hurt her in that way.
Emma slipped out the door, still lost in her thoughts. If anything, she supposed, she was simply hurt that he, like all the others, had finally decided to drop pretenses and treat her like the monster he thought she was; after all, he'd been hurt by her powers the day before, she'd been able to see the new wariness it prompted from him.
The princess sighed. Why did feelings have to be so complicated? If only her feelings about and for Hook were as uncomplicated at her feelings for the food she was currently chopping, everything would be so much easier.
But of course, nothing could ever be easy for her, could it?
"I'm not an expert on meat, Princess, but I don't think it's supposed to be pounded that much." Emma's hands froze instantly.
"What are you doing here, Hook?" her tone was frigid and cold, matching Hook's tone.
"I wanted to make sure you weren't about to throw yourself out of a porthole."
"Why would I do that? I'm sure you'd simply fish me out and kill me yourself if I did that."
"That would defeat the purpose of the ransom, Princess. But believe me, if I could kill you, I would." his tone remained cold and convincing, leaving Emma even more confused. How had this man gone from one day almost having sex with her and psychoanalyzing her, to the next wanting to kill her?
"What's the real reason you're here, Hook?"
"I told you already, Princess. I suggest you don't question your captain." the threat was clear, and uninvited, a shiver wracked her body. Emma tipped her head downwards slightly; normally, she wouldn't submit to him, but he was different today. She somehow felt that, if she was not a princess and was not about to be ransomed, he would be killing her. Right now, perhaps.
The mere thought sent a chill through her, increasing her fear towards the pirate. She chopped the meat thrice more and added it to a kettle of water, all the while feeling Hook's cold stare burning into her back, increasing her unease.
Finally, she finished, turning around only to find Hook staring at her with an entirely different expression on his face; a much softer, gentler one. Instantly, however, he pulled his mask back on, leaving Emma more confused than ever. What was he doing?
"I'll escort you back to the brig now, Princess," he said curtly, as Tom walked in, in order to start his shift. Emma opened her mouth to protest, but promptly shut it, his cold eyes from earlier making her unwilling to fight.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Princess," Hook said, with a strange gleam in his eyes, and once more she wondered, just what was going on here? Before she nestled into her hard mattress and drifted slowly off to sleep.
