I don't own OUAT


Hook is starting to worry me. His will to celebrate my birthday is far too strong. I haven't seen him all day; he has been searching for a present, I would presume. I suppose it depends what he brings me on how I will respond. Perhaps I could keep him around for a little longer. I could use a new pet.

-Cora Mills


Cora would never guess what Hook had created for her. She seemed pleased by the essentials he created before, but he wanted her to be happy, not simply content. She had no heart to love with, but he had seen her laugh and was determined to hear it again. He'd seen her smile and found it vital to not only see it again, but to be the cause of it. He was determined to use this day as a means to an end. He would create the most beautiful gift for her, and god dammit, she would like it. If she didn't the only thing he would think about was her payment to their debt so many months ago. Perhaps that could be her gift now.

He had found a large stone cliff stone a few months back, and it would be perfect for this gift. He pulled out a few bowls overflowing with multicolored fruits. He sat down on the ground and set to work, smashing the fruits with the side of his hook, allowing the juices to drip into the bowls. They came slowly, and he found that it was not as easy a task as he had predicted. Finally, he finished the task. The bowls were full of juices ranging in color from a vivid orange to a dark blood-red. He then pulled out some twigs, grasses, and reeds and constructed a few small paint brushes. Whether Cora knew it or not, he was putting his soul into this. And she would like it; she had to like it.

He put his hook against the wall for support and set to work. The brushes were not as easy to use as his other supplies, but he managed well enough. His hand flew across the stone, vivid colors tracing patterns and lines across the cliff side, seemingly with no relevance to each other. But as he painted, the 'random' streaks of red, black, and blue blended to form a single beating heart. You could see it beating on that cliff without a single true movement occurring. But a blink was all it took to return the painting to its picturesque form, rather than the illusion that his details led you to believe. There were jagged shards sticking out of the heart, colored to match the stone so accurately that it looked as though the cliff itself had stabbed through the picture. He thought it was perfect for her. Behind the heart, he painted a simple sword that clearly was not meant to look like his. For what point would his sword have in Cora's present? No, it was just a simple blade. Across the bottom, he wrote with a flourish "Long Live The Queen"

He stepped back from the cliff, looking at his masterpiece with pride. The bowls and brushes were hidden behind a bush, and the juices melted away from his hand and hook into the still river, disappearing the instant they touched the water. Perhaps a year ago, such a thing would have been strange to him. But from all he had seen with Cora and her daughter, nothing would surprise him again. It had not taken long to understand magic far more than he had on that tragic day all those centuries ago. As he watched the paint drip from his fingers, he was consumed in thoughts of Milah. But then, perhaps sprung from his thoughts, the juices transformed before his very eyes into blood. He stared on with horror as Milah's blood fell from his fingertips in slow motion. Tears beaded up in his eyes, threatening to fall and mix with the blood. His vision blurred, and as he blinked the tears away, the blood changed back into paint. The horror was over.

"I'm getting your revenge, Milah.I will kill him, I swear to you." Her image appeared in the water then, a horrified look on her face. The look that had covered her face when she died. He stared at her for a while, allowing himself to succumb to his grief for only this one moment. Then he slashed the water away, dissolving the image. He turned back to the cliff side Today was Cora's day. The day that he would get what he wanted from her. All under the guise of making her day. And once he'd had her, she'd be under his very own spell. Then Milah could be avenged. With Cora under his power, Rumpelstiltskin would be a distant nightmare. And perhaps keeping Cora could have some other perks as well. Lord knew he could get lonely. In need of... companionship.

Her face was soft. He had placed his arm over her eyes, expecting a quick and painful removal. However, she gave no noticeable reaction. No flinch or attack to be found. But then, with no heart, an adrenaline rush was unlikely to come.

"You were gone when I awoke this morning." Such a simple reply, as so many of hers were. Yet they always held so much meaning. This was both a greeting and an accusation. It was a threat, one of the many things she was so good at. Elegantly concealing such vivid images of torment in so few simple words. But the fact that she allowed his hand to continue to reside on her face when he had grabbed her none-too gently told him that she would not harm him. Yet.

"I was working on your present, my Queen" He could feel the sides of her face curl up underneath his fingertips. She was smiling. Just then, her back arched against him, leaning back into him. He tried to ignore the rapidly spreading pleasure she had caused him.

"Then by all means, take me." He nudged her foot with his own and bent over her, his mouth beside her ear.

"Forward." He said it roughly, as though he had control. It was strange, but she let him, moving forward slowly. He kept her close to him, pressing himself against her as if to prevent her from flying away. But he did it for her own protection, not his. After all, he would be in quite a lot of trouble if her Highness tripped. The continued on in near-silence, only broken by occasional murmurs of warning and instruction.

"Root, left, tree branch, right, wait" She obeyed his every command sincerely, responding to them the instant they left his mouth. Her shoulders would tense at his utterances, prepared to do his bidding. Her obedience was astounding to him. Yet, even as she had lowered herself to allow him his welcome and control, she maintained her inhuman air. It was a feeling about her that proved that she was different from him and always would be. And he was beginning to learn to accept this. Moments such as this would have to be enough for him. It was difficult to believe that he could ever be satisfied with this woman. But he only had two options with her. Either he could accept that she held all the power in deciding what they did, or he could ache with longing for a dream he had long-since lost. He chose the first, because he knew this would be the woman he could never give up on. Nothing she gave him could ever be enough. This woman, no, this goddess, was too alluring, her grip on his heart too strong. Yet she had allowed her guard to drop just the smallest bit lately, allowing him to come closer, begin to form his own grip on her. He learned more about her everyday, and had learned how to read her limited emotions and correct his behavior before he pushed her too far.

"Stop." They had arrived, and he turned her gently with his hook. He dropped his hand from her face and she blinked rapidly at the sudden exposure her eyes were met with. Her hand rose up quickly, shielding her eyes. She stared at the monument for a moment, making no sound or movement. "Well?" She turned to him, her expression completely vacant, guard up. And then, with a slight tilt of her head and rising of her heels, she was kissing him. She granted him only a few seconds before turning and walking away, leaving him dumbfounded in the middle of the forest.