Thank you to NatalyaEnkou for the review! I'm so glad you're enjoying it. :D It's always fun when someone really gets into the story. Hope I can keep it up for you.
Any suggestions/requests? I've got some of what I want planned out (and oh, it's gonna be fun), but not everything. So I'm totally open to outside ideas :)
Yay Chapter 9! Slightly shorter chapter, but I wanted to get it out to y'all as soon as I could. Please review! Let me know what you think, good or bad.
Also, Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to everyone!
~Chapter Nine~
Dazed.
That was probably the most accurate word to describe how she was feeling as she stood back in Hook's hospital room, eyes clouded and hands finding their way slowly back to her pockets. if her brain had been working properly, she would have realized she was staring unblinkingly at the pirate, who was staring right back at her with an obvious note of concern playing across his features. She would have scolded herself for appearing so vulnerable in front of him. She would have turned right back around and marched herself home to bed and bottle - gods knew she was in need of both.
Instead, she just stood there as the door swung shut behind her with a sound finality, her brother's footsteps echoing down the corridor outside. Bryan's words hung in her mind, blazing like an oil-soaked torch through her consciousness.
Not the Guildmaster.
She hadn't really wanted to be Guildmaster, anyway. While it was sometimes convenient to have power, it really wasn't something she'd felt the need to hold very tightly. But it wasn't the loss of control that had left her nursing a new hole in her chest. For so long, she'd defined herself by her Guild - by her profession and her family and her dreams.
Now she had none of that. Who was she now?
"Nyx, love." Killian broke her gently out of her thoughts, frowning at her from across the room. "Is something amiss?"
It took her a moment to figure out how to answer him, and she was sure the riot of emotions raging within her was displayed plainly on her face as she searched for words, momentarily deprived of her ability to speak.
"I'm, ummmmm..." Nope. Got to do better than that.
"Bryan's, well..." Okay, one more time.
"I've been voted out." Much better. "I'm not the Guildmaster anymore."
Actually saying it seemed to bring the fact home, and Nyx wandered over to her chair before letting her legs give out, still staring blankly ahead of her. Hook didn't seem to know what to say to that so he just continued his silent observation from his bed, waiting patiently for her to continue. It was strange how that silence was somehow far more comforting to her than any attempt at pushing her to conversation, offering of condolences, or playful jibe could ever have been. His almost uncharacteristic, quiet acceptance of whatever inner turmoil she was sorting through did a lot to bring her back to the present.
With a large sigh, Nyx set her head in her hands and took a good long look at the floor, noting for the first time how cold her fingers felt against her skin. Her brain registered with mild amusement that she was in some small degree of shock.
"I'm, ummmm..." Still not good with the talking thing, apparently. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do."
"What do you mean?" There was that gentleness again - that tone of voice she hadn't expected him ever to use. No one had ever spoken to her like that - not since her father. Her father had always had an answer. He was the last person she'd ever allowed to hold her - to comfort her when she'd felt lost or alone. Even now she missed his arms around her, and the memory of that kind, loving look in his eyes sent that hollow pain of loss lancing through her.
Dad, I miss you. What am I supposed to do now?
"I've been retired," she explained, shoving that sudden loneliness aside. She wasn't a child - she hadn't been a child for twelve years now. "I'm out of the Guild. 'Free to live my life,' as Bryan put it. 'Free to do everything except what I want to,' is more like it. First thing I steal signs my death warrant. Either I live within the law or I get a knife in the back some night when I least expect it."
"I think you underestimate how fond they are of you, lass," he smiled encouragingly. "I doubt your brother could bring himself to hunt you."
"I shouldn't put him in that position," she answered quietly, still not daring to look in his eyes. "When there's a mutiny, the Captain isn't allowed to stay on as part of the crew - and the Guild works the same way. If I keep on stealing on my own, unsanctioned, I'm a Rogue, and Rogues are dangerous to the Guild's reputation and its contracts with the monarchs. If they don't put me down - in all senses of the word - the kings and queens I've made deals with in the past would have every right to declare open season on thieves. I can't have that - and neither can the next Guildmaster."
"There are other things to do with your life," he pointed out. "Thieving isn't the only less-than-legal option for you."
"Like what?" she shot back, half teasing past the bitterness marring her voice. "Piracy?"
"It has its advantages," Killian responded carefully, shifting slightly in the bed with a bit of a grunt. "Not the least of which is being far from those who would wish you harm."
"Which is why you've been sailing around with Cora?" That came out a bit more harshly than she'd intended, but the pirate seemed to take it in stride. There was a light, half-amused quality to his voice when he spoke next, mixed with a startling seriousness that sent a small shiver down Nyx's spine.
"I've always put the needs of my crew before those of my passengers. Besides, I've already taken her Majesty as far as she'd wanted to go." At last, the thief raised her eyes to meet his, both shocked and honored by the offer laced through his reply.
"I'd make a poor pirate, Captain. The Roger is the only ship I've ever been on."
"You'd learn, love," he countered, gaze intense despite the small smirk on his lips. "And I hear the men have already taken a liking to you. I swear Smee might have swooned yesterday morning on the rooftop, telling tales of the valiant savior who'd selflessly taken his place in the Imp's little prison."
She wrinkled her nose. "I'm hardly 'valiant.' Smee has a knack for letting his stories grow a little too big."
"Appearances, dear. Even Gibbs and Starkey have threatened to leave the crew should I dare to harm you."
That earned him a laugh. Starkey, with his leather eyepatch and ever-present bandana, had been sour and ill-tempered since she'd met him. It was only a few days before Hook had arrived that the man had seen fit to draw her aside, surprising her with a gruff assurance that he appreciated what she'd done for them. Since then, she'd made it her personal mission to get the man to laugh - or at least smile a little at something.
"Still, I'd have to take orders from you," she teased.
"There is that," he admitted.
She didn't know if she could do it - live life on the open seas. It was hard even to imagine. It was a life she'd dreamed of briefly as a child, long ago when her father told stories of his life before Mother. But it was far from everything she'd ever known - everything she'd ever worked for or been given. Her family was here, even if she couldn't be in the Guild. And there was still so much work to do.
Her face fell, and her voice came out more as a whisper than anything else. "I can't. Not now - not while Cora's here. I can't."
"There will always be something, love. Perhaps it is time to let go. Do something for yourself - let them handle themselves this time."
She considered it for a moment, mulling his words over slowly before shaking her head. "Could you? If Rumpelstiltskin was gunning for everyone you loved, could you sit on your hands and watch just because you were no longer the Captain?"
"That's different, love." There was a sudden dangerous glint to his eye, and Nyx wondered briefly if she'd pushed a little too far. She watched the muscle in his jaw tense at the mention of the Imp, his fingers curling into a fist at his side. After a moment, she turned away, gaze drifting out the window and into the dark, damp streets of Storybrooke.
He was willing to die for his vengeance, that much she could see in his eyes. Was she willing to do the same to stop Cora? Could she let Bryan kill her so she could protect them?
The bitterness of knowing her loyalty to the Guild wasn't reciprocated rose up like bile in her throat, abruptly killing all thoughts of another life.
She had plans to make.
11 Years Pre-Curse
Enchanted Forest
Nyx crouched silently in the rafters above the grand dining hall of Prince John's palace. Her shoulders ached from the climb it had taken to get here, but she relished in the discomfort. It had taken her months to heal enough to even lift her pack from the floor. The healers in the capitol had told her she'd be lucky to regain full movement of her arms, damaged as her shoulders were. The Cat O'Nine had ripped down to the bone in places. But the thief was young and spry, and she'd pushed herself daily through strengthening exercises and sparring with the rest of the children. She'd be damned if she let them leave her behind. Now she was back to scrambling up walls and across rooftops as she pleased. Though she knew she would always be at a disadvantage when it came to combat, there were none who could compete with her when she climbed. The pain that followed her reminded her she wasn't beaten yet. The pain was her defiance.
She clutched the two small vials of poison to her chest as she perched far above the table, unmoving. By themselves, each liquid was harmless - but taken together, death was fast and final. The young thief had only to pick two complimentary dishes. The sorceress Cora was in for supper tonight along with the Prince and the Sheriff. Nyx could fell them all tonight, and her father, after one long year, could be at peace.
The Cricket's warning raced through her mind, but she pointedly ignored it. What did he know? He was only a little bug who played fairy to street rats like her.
Still, she hesitated, finding herself listening to the conversations going on below her. The nobles were taking business, it seemed, and Nyx's ears perked up at the mention of the Guild. Surely it wouldn't hurt to wait a little longer...
"How goes things with your little pests, Nottingham?" The Prince turned his sickly pale face towards the Sheriff, beady eyes bright with dark excitement. The man was well known to take pleasure in others' pain, and with the rise of outlaws in Sherwood Forest he'd been even more keen than usual to take his frustrations out on thieves who strayed too far from home.
Thieves like the one eavesdropping in the shadows above him.
"Nothing new, lately - not since that burglary of Lord Foster's estate. Seems they've been keeping their ugly little heads in Leopold's kingdom recently."
"Oh, you can expect that to change soon, to be sure." Cora smiled in her over-sweet fashion. The woman had come to see her the morning after her father's execution, dark eyes filled with glee at the broken child before her. Heartless bitch. Nyx would be doing the world a service to kill her, vengeance or not. "Tax season is coming up, and you know they won't be able to resist."
"We'll be ready for them," Nottingham assured her, smoothing his black hair from his face. "So long as our little spy keeps up the good work, there won't be any surprises. Tax season might as well be hanging season."
Spy? The fourteen year old's blood ran cold at the word. Someone had betrayed them. But who? She trusted everyone in the Guild - they were family. Bryan with his sweet smile; Gail with that sweet tooth she could never quite satisfy; Jacobs with that strong, comforting nature and disarming way of talking. They'd all taken her under their wing, all looking to fill the void left by her father's death, and none more than the Guildmaster, himself. None of them had let her give up hope.
And yet one of them was false. The thought was very nearly crippling, but she forced herself to stay and listen more, hoping someone might drop a name. The conversation continued for hours with nothing new to show for the thief's troubles, and when the hall emptied at last Nyx crept carefully out the window and down the castle ramparts, two full vials of revenge hanging heavy at her belt.
Present Day
Storybrooke
Killian lay awake in bed, listening to Nyx's quiet breathing from her cot only a few feet away. Days had passed since Bryan had stopped by to drop his news, and the thief had spent her spare time, which she now had in excess, with the pirate - likely at Swan's request. He could see that biding her time bothered her - each day she spent in the hospital was another day Cora wandered through Storybrooke unchecked. Still, as long as she was here with him, honest and uninvolved in the brewing conflict, the Guild wasn't interested in her. More importantly, she was safe.
Still, he knew it wouldn't last. He could usually hear the wheels cranking in her mind as she plotted late at night when she thought he was sleeping. It was only a matter of time before she became too restless to play guard dog. And, if he were honest, he would sorely miss her company.
But who needed honesty - he was, after all, a pirate.
Though they'd argued occasionally over the Imp or Cora, Hook and the former Guildmaster had usually spent their days on telling stories - him to distract her from her betrayal, her to distract him from his healing ribs. He smiled a bit at the memory of how their tale-telling habit had started, feeling just the slightest bit smug that he'd managed to surprise her momentarily when she'd asked him to return Peter Pan.
"If you want that story, love," he'd answered, smirking mischievously, "you'll have to ask the source."
He'd happily corrected the falsities in the novel for her, throwing the image of the "villainous" pirate captain into as much doubt as possible. The book was wrong on nearly every count. He did not, in fact, shoot his crew at the drop of a hat, nor did he try to drown Tiger Lilly in the depths of the Echo Caves. Truth be told, Indians and Pirates had often joined forces to defeat one or another of Pan's schemes, and he'd never once heard the same be said of the Lost Ones. As far as Hook was concerned, when Peter and his little band of demons decided to have a good time, anyone on the rest of the island was a potential ally.
In turn, she told him of her adventures terrorizing the nobility of every nearby kingdom. She had a story for every town, village, and castle, it seemed. The woman had dauntlessly burglarized homes heedless of whatever security measures had been in place, and talked about them now as if it had been nothing (she'd laughed good and hard when he told her of his attempt at stealing from the Queen, though he left out the nature of his target). It was a wonder she'd never been caught - or only caught once, so she claimed, though the details of that particular adventure remained hidden from him. Before long, he'd easily required a healthy respect for both her and her abilities. And as the week drew to a close, a strange but solid trust had settled between them, though they remained somewhat at odds on some counts.
As time went on, he found himself hoping that - should they both survive the events to come - she might reconsider his offer to join his crew. Killian could use someone like her. Even if she wound up being useless at sea, she could more than earn her keep whenever they made port near an estate. Not to mention she'd had written contact with the heads of every criminal underworld as far as Agrabah.
Of course, it helped that she was good company and pleasant enough to look at.
Oddly enough, his pulse still sped up a bit whenever she got too close, and every once in a while he'd catch himself looking at her just a little too long, though he refused to acknowledge either occurrence. There were even times he'd find he'd focused more on the quirk of her mouth as she smiled than on what she was saying. And then there were mornings like these when it took more willpower than he was willing to admit not to look over and watch her sleep, the pale light from the sunrise painting her tousled hair with a cold glow. No, he wasn't going to watch her hand curl around the blankets at her chest or that small furrow between her brows. It was mornings like these he had to force himself to remember his purpose in being here. It was mornings like these, having her so close by him and yet just far enough away - like an itch he couldn't quite reach - he wondered whether one night with her would truly be enough.
Damned woman...
She breathed a soft moan, and Killian's endeavor to not notice how infuriatingly sweet she looked while sleeping was immediately abandoned as he strained his ears to hear if she uttered another word. It had almost sounded as if she'd said -
"Hook!"
No, that was not the voice he wanted to hear. The Prince and his wife strode confidently into the room, followed by a dwarf who was looking particularly suited to his name. The pirate scowled in irritation as he heard the thief beside him sit up with a start. In the blink of an eye she had a blade bared in her hand.
"Dear gods, Charming," Nyx breathed, running a hand through her hair to try and calm herself. "Don't you have any sense of tact?"
"Where's Cora?" the man demanded.
"Nope, nevermind. Stupid question on my part," the thief muttered, much to Killian's amusement. He couldn't quite hold back his smirk even as James tried to look intimidating from the doorway.
"Everyone keeps asking that like I'll have a different answer at any given time," he mused, enjoying the frustration playing across the man's face. "I think you'd notice if she'd come to visit, mate. I still have no idea where she is."
"Hi, Snow," Nyx smiled, ignoring the men for the moment. Hook's smirk grew, knowing the thief was reminding her prince that his wife should be handling things here. "How's life going? Been a while."
"Not too bad." Though the princess tried to keep her voice calm and casual, she couldn't help the excited, beaming smile from her face. "Emma and Henry went out of town, so it's been fairly quiet recently. Just been trying to keep up with the town. You?"
"Eh, ya know. Been better been worse. Emma's out of town?"
"Yeah, she went with Mr. Gold to find his son."
Hook's gut clenched with the knowledge the Crocodile was once again out of his reach. He quickly supressed the feeling. He'd waited three hundred years; he could wait a few more days if he had to.
The thief sighed heavily. "Too much shit happens in this town - I feel so out of the loop."
That was a strange expression. Out of the loop. Perhaps it had something to do with knots? Although if that were the case, wouldn't it be a good thing to be out of the loop if, presumably, the loop was something akin to a hangman's noose? Best to let it go, he thought. At least until later, when he didn't have a little princeling breathing fire at him.
"I heard about that," Snow frowned sympathetically, a genuine sadness clouding her eyes. Nyx had told him a few stories about the time she'd spent with the Bandit Princess, but the pirate was still surprised that someone as unquestioningly good as Snow White would associate with, let alone feel concern for, anyone like Nyx or himself. "I'm so sorry, Nyx. I can't believe - "
"It's fine," the thief broke in with a small smile. "I'm sure they know what they're doing."
"Do you?"
"You know me - I'm sure I'll think of something. What's this about Cora? I've already told Emma he doesn't know anything."
"Charming seemed to think we might be able to learn something from either him or his ship," the woman shrugged with a lightly scolding glance towards her husband. Killian let his gaze flicker towards Nyx briefly, noting that she seemed far more focused than she had in days. Once again, those cogs in her brain were churning away at some half-formed plot. That small twinkle of determination was back in her eyes, and he was mostly glad to see it.
"What do you want with my ship?" he asked carefully, narrowing his gaze suspiciously as he glared at the prince.
"Just to look around a bit," Snow assured him before Charming could respond. "We're hoping she might have left something there by mistake."
"We can do that." He shot Nyx a glare for answering for him, though he quickly gave a small huff of resignation. The Jolly Roger might be his ship, and he might be able to say who was and was not allowed onboard, but he knew the thief would do what she wanted regardless of whether or not he agreed. Disputing her decision would do him no good.
"Am I to assume that means I'm free to leave this infernal room at last?"
"Whale said you could leave a few days ago," she shrugged, earning another glare. "I was just waiting on Swan to give the word."
"Lovely," he pouted half-heartedly.
"She is the Sheriff," the thief reminded him, a spark of amusement in her eyes. "And you did try and shoot Belle. Far be it from me to obstruct the law."
"That's not how I remember it," the dwarf grumbled.
"'Circumvent' is not quite the same as 'obstruct.' I only take the sentencing into my own hands - not the declaration of guilt." She eyed Grumpy teasingly. "Even you have appreciated that in the past, if I remember correctly."
"It's not the same."
"Sure it isn't," she laughed. "Regardless, I'm going to get the pirate's stuff and his discharge papers from the nurse. Meet you outside, Snow?"
With that, Nyx ushered them all back out the door, flashing Killian an amused smile over her shoulder as she went. He could see just from the look in her eye that she'd decided on a plan at last. He couldn't help but think that if Cora could see her, the sorceress would, for once in her life, be quaking in her sparkly boots.
5 Years Pre-Curse
Enchanted Forest
Nyx scaled the tower carefully, thinking back briefly to the last time she'd made this climb. Each handhold had seemed so much further away when she'd been fourteen, though she still had to jump a bit in places to reach. Of course, she hadn't had to carry two hundred feet of rope on her back as a fourteen year old, either. The differences in circumstances were amusing to some degree. Last time she'd been planning to kill someone - well, three someones, if she were honest. This time, she'd planned a rescue.
When Rob had found her in the city, Grumpy in tow no less, she'd known something had gone wrong. The famed Outlaw of Sherwood, whose visage graced nearly as many wanted posters as her own, hated to be surrounded by stone, and the capital of the Evil Queen's kingdom was nothing if not impressive in its masonry. Still, it served him right. He was supposed to be teaching her how to hunt and survive in the wild, not letting her get arrested and locked away.
She cursed as her fingers slipped on a bit of loose mortar between the bricks, swinging briefly by one hand before she got a better grip. If it were anyone else, she'd leave them here to rot. Prince John could keep them - or Rob could disrupt the hanging, as he usually did.
But no.
Not this time.
This time, Snow White had to go and get herself captured.
Luckily, John had realized the woman was no common outlaw and had contacted Queen Regina nearly as quickly as Rob had found Nyx. And while that had resulted in something of a race to Sherwood and then to Locksley and Nottingham, it had also spared the princess the slow, agonizing death by dismemberment King Richard's fool of a brother was so uncommonly fond of.
The Guildmaster pulled herself up onto the roof of the dining hall and crept carefully through the dark, taking meticulous note of guard placement, before taking a running start up the side of the tower nearest the prisons. The royal architect had assured the king this wall could not be climbed and the cell above could not be broken, but that was before time and weather had taken their toll. Now, Nyx knew better. Her deft fingers found purchase between the stones and she ascended steadily. By the time she reached the top, her arms were beginning to ache.
Without wasting time, she peered into the small, dark cell, easily spotting Snow's sleeping form.
"Hey!" she called softly, her voice barely above a whisper for fear there was someone standing guard outside the door. "Dumbass! Wake up - it's time to go."
"Nyx?" came the muffled, incredulous reply.
"Surprise," the thief smiled, clipping herself to the bars on the window by her belt to free her hands. Navigating around the rope slung across her chest, she rummaged around in one of her pockets until she produced two small bottles. One was filled partway with what looked like metal shavings, the other with a colorless liquid. It was a handy thing she'd started importing from the East years ago for just these situations. Illegal, naturally, so it had to be smuggled.
And now she was going to use it to free a princess.
Oh the irony.
"What's that?" Snow asked, her hazel eyes lighting up with curiosity.
"An acid - it'll eat through the bars." It would eat through her skin, too, if she wasn't careful. She thanked the gods she'd inherited steady hands from her father. "Stand back a little."
When the princess was far enough away, Nyx carefully dribbled the substance around the three leftmost iron bars, hoping that would be enough for Snow to fit through. If not, they'd be going out the front door instead. The bars popped free easily, leaving Nyx to tie her rope to the remaining two while helping the princess out the window.
"Don't look down."
"Too late," the woman squeaked. Snow's face was as white as her namesake and her hands gripped the thief's collar hard enough to yank her to the side. There was a tense moment when she thought they might fall, but her belt held and they swung briefly as Nyx tried to steady her feet against the stone.
"Snow. Snow," Nyx said softly, trying to catch her friend's attention and calm her down. "Look at me. You're going to be fine, you hear me? You're not going to fall. You just have to trust me, okay? You can do this."
"Couldn't you have brought a harness or something?"
"I apologize my rescue isn't good enough," she rolled her eyes, earning a small laugh from the petrified princess. "I haven't had much practice at stealing people. I'll be sure to remember for next time."
"Maybe I should just go back inside and wait for Regina."
"Don't you dare. I climbed all the way up here for you, and the both of us are going to climb down. I'll go first so I can catch you if you slip. Here, take the rope."
With a bit of an effort, Nyx showed Snow the proper way to hold on to the rope and they started slowly down the tower. "Just look straight ahead at the stone. Don't worry about the rest - it'll be over before you know it."
Surprisingly enough, they made it to the bottom without incident and left the rope behind as they scrambled across the rooftops. For all of Snow's shortcomings, she was blessedly silent on her feet. Somehow they managed to get to the outer wall without getting caught. And just as the sun was beginning to rise they were running into the woods, both of them laughing in relief when they saw the Queen's carriage roll by on the main road.
Nyx took one last look at the castle behind them, remembering all too vividly the night that had set her on course to becoming the Guildmaster. She knew now the ache in her chest would always appear when she thought of her father, regardless of what she did. As Snow wandered on ahead, the thief reached into a pouch at her hip, briefly touching her fingers to the two vials of poison she carried with her. Once she'd thought those little bottles were her ticket to peace. But they were just wasted coin - nothing more than a reminder that trust had to be earned.
The thief smiled at the princess's back and pulled her hood back over her head. It had taken a year, but the Cricket was right and Snow had most definitely earned that trust. She was more than a figurehead - more than just the leader of a rebellion or a princess-turned-outlaw. She was a friend - and it was because of that, Nyx would make her a Queen.