A/N: Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who's leaving reviews. They keep the words a-flowing and I need that very much right now as I've hit a wall on chapter 12 - I like to stay a few chapters ahead so I can keep my updates regular.
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There was a part of Killian that wanted to trust Blackbeard. But there was another part of him that feared for Emma's safety. His eyes fell to her as she lay there on the cold, rocky ground, bound and gagged. He remembered how she'd fallen earlier and likely injured herself given the speed they'd been traveling.
They had no choice but to trust him.
"Very well, Admiral. We accept your terms on one condition."
"What's that?" Blackbeard replied, chuckling at Killian's impudence.
"You sail us in secret to the Maritime Kingdom on the Queen Anne's Revenge."
Blackbeard raised his chin defiantly and began twirling his moustache again as he considered Killian's counter offer.
"Done!" He said with a sense of finality, extending his hand to Killian to help him off the ground. Killian accepted. Once on his feet, Killian tightened his grip on the old man's hand.
"You know if you betray me, I'll be forced to do something rash."
"Naturally," Blackbeard replied, obligingly, his voice thick with implications.
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Back at the Royal Palace, Rumplestiltskin was hard at work. He leaned over the table in the dining hall, a number of small glass bottles and ingredients and whimsical looking contraptions laid out before him.
And one very large map.
Just then, he heard the sound of heels clicking on the stone floor.
"Ahh, Belle," He began, smiling and rubbing his hands together, visibly pleased with her arrival.
"You sent for me?" She asked.
"Yes, I did. I need you to do something for me," He said, walking towards her.
"Anything," She replied, gazing up at him for a moment before blinking rapidly, remembering herself, "I mean, I am your servant, after all."
"Yes," he replied, seeming to be lost in thought for a moment, just as she had been.
She smiled at him warmly.
He cleared his throat.
"I need you to find something that belongs to the Princess."
"That shouldn't be hard. Anything in particular you're looking for?"
"No, no," he said dismissively, "Anything will do. Just make absolutely sure it belongs to her."
"Alright," Belle began, looking at him with apparent suspicion, "What do you need it for?"
Rumplestiltskin leaned over the map and ran his hands over it slowly.
"A locator spell."
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Killian and Emma had agreed to spend the night resting in the cavern and meet Blackbeard just before sunrise on the Queen Anne's Revenge, which was docked at a nearby port. It was the only way to ensure they weren't seen boarding the ship.
It was late afternoon and Emma was preparing herself for an early night. There was a chill in the air, whether from the cavern or the wind, and she counted herself lucky that she'd kept her heavy brown cloak now that Blackbeard had taken the green one. Her mother's cloak. She'd probably sent it on purpose. Emma felt foolish that she hadn't discovered its powers before their encounter with Blackbeard.
She could have at least told Killian, Emma thought, deciding that blaming her mother's paranoia made the loss of such a precious family heirloom easier to bear.
After all, she could hardly blame Killian for agreeing to the terms placed before him. Blackbeard had them cornered. There was no other option but to acquiesce.
She glanced at him over her shoulder as she combed her fingers through her long, golden hair. He was seated on the cavern floor, back against the wall, staring blankly at the necklace he'd traded for her mother's cloak. He'd been there for quite some time, motionless, speechless, seemingly lost in thought.
Once again, Emma found that she couldn't blame him. Her own mind was still reeling from the events of the day. Their daring escape from the inn, her twisted ankle which had swollen quite painfully, their run-ins with the infamous pirate Blackbeard, and the heated moment they'd shared in the entrance to the cave.
It was the one thing Emma couldn't find a logical explanation for. Apart from the few highly exaggerated advances he'd made in the tavern (all very obviously a part of the show), Killian had been very clear that he was not interested in Emma beyond fulfilling his duties as her protector and traveling companion.
But that kiss.
Being that it was her first, she didn't have anything else to compare it to. But it felt so real. So desperate. As if he was longing for her just as much as she was for him.
But then something stopped them. Both of them.
For her own part, Emma regretted freezing up like that. True, she was scared, caught off guard. But if she was honest with herself, she'd been wanting him to kiss her like that from the moment she laid eyes on him.
But it wasn't Killian she was afraid of.
Over the past few days, she had been using all of her powers of intuition to study him. She was absolutely certain that he had never lied to her. She knew she could trust him.
Emma was afraid of herself. Afraid of her feelings. Afraid of her own foolish heart.
Who falls for a man they just met?
She stole another glance at him as she finished another round of braiding and unbraiding her hair, as if by doing so, she could make a ribbon to secure it magically appear.
He seemed so... sad.
It was the sight of his sadness that made at least one thing about her feelings for Killian abundantly clear. She may not be able to understand her own heart, but she knew she couldn't bear to see this man so unhappy. Especially not when he'd given his life to save her.
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Belle returned shortly after their first conversation with a hairbrush she'd found on the vanity in Emma's old bedroom.
"Will this do?" She asked, holding up the hairbrush.
"That depends," Rumplestiltskin mused, "Are you certain it belongs to the Princess?"
"It was in her room and there are strands of her hair still stuck in the bristles."
"Wonderful!" He cheered, clapping and giggling excitedly. He reached for it and she snatched it away from his grasp.
"Not so fast!" She said, a playful sort of reproachfulness in her tone, "First I want to know what you plan to do with this."
"Isn't it obvious?" He asked, sneering, "I need it for a locator spell. I'm going to use it to locate the missing Princess."
"Yes, but why?" She prodded.
"Because I want to reunite her with her parents, of course!" The old crocodile lied.
Belle raised a very suspicious eyebrow at him. He sighed.
"I came here to collect on a deal I knew the King and Queen were planning to back out of. I never wanted to harm the girl, I never wanted to harm anyone. I just want what's mine to be restored to me." Belle seemed unconvinced. He waved his hands impatiently. "Think of it as leverage. If I return the girl safely to her parents, I get what I want."
Using her to get what he wants. That seems far more likely, Belle thought.
"Very well," She replied, bringing the hairbrush out from behind her back. The Dark One smiled at her and reached for it, but she snatched it out of his grasp once more. "Promise you won't hurt her?"
Rumplestiltskin gave her his most reassuring smile, which looked far more like the scheming grin of a crocodile for anyone other than Belle to feel reassured.
"Promise," he hissed.
Satisfied, she handed him the hairbrush.
And he rewarded her with a quick peck on the cheek.
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Emma made her way carefully over to sit next to Killian on the floor.
He didn't move.
She placed her head on his shoulder.
She could have sworn she saw the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
She couldn't hide hers so easily.
"Was that yours?" She asked, nodding at the necklace.
"Aye," He answered, turning it over in his hands, "It was. Once. Long ago."
"It must be very special." He gave her a half-hearted smile.
"It is." He sat forward and turned toward her, sweeping her hair out of the way before placing it carefully around her neck. "It belonged to my brother."
Emma inspected the two pendants dangling from the thick braided chain now hanging from her neck. One was an ornate dagger, made entirely of silver, with some runes carved into the blade. The other had a golden skull in the center of an iron cross.
"I look like a pirate!" She said with a playful grin. He laughed.
"Or the companion of a pirate anyway," He replied, gazing at her.
She smiled at him, pleased that she'd managed to lighten his dark mood.
He brushed her golden hair behind her shoulder and took a moment to admire the stark contrast of the rather garish necklace around her elegant neck before meeting her eyes once more.
"Emma, it's very important that you keep this with you always. You must never take it off."
"Alright," She conceded, confused. "Why?"
"Because this necklace is enchanted. It will hide you from your enemies until you decide to reveal yourself."
"How do you know it works?" She asked, skeptical. It seemed more like play jewelry than a precious magical relic.
"Because the very moment my brother removed this necklace, I saw him killed by a man who hated him for years."
Emma's eyes went wide.
"Killian-" she began, breathlessly, "I can't accept this." Immediately she started to take it off. But he caught her hands in his and held them there.
"You must." He insisted, gazing intently into her eyes.
"But this. This is something special. Something that belonged to your brother. This is precious, Killian. This belongs to you!"
"You are something special, Swan. And you are far more precious than all the magic and all the treasure in the world. You must wear the necklace. Always."
There was such earnestness in his eyes as they locked with hers.
For a moment, Emma thought she might kiss him again.
But Killian brought her hands to his mouth and kissed them gently.
"Promise me, Swan."
What else could she do?
"I promise."
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Rumplestiltskin watched with great anticipation as the hair brush began to float over the table. He smiled and rolled up his map, stuffing it in his pocket. She couldn't have gotten very far. It had only been two days since the attack and she was a Princess after all.
A Princess who had almost never been allowed outside the castle.
A Princess who was accustomed to life in a palace rather than life on the run in the muck and mire of the Enchanted Forest.
A Princess unfamiliar with the lay of the land.
She was probably lying on her face in the forest somewhere, half-dead from dehydration.
Rumplestiltskin smiled as the hairbrush began to float toward the front door.
And then it clattered to the ground.
"WHAT?!" He hissed, grinding his teeth. He waved his hand at it as if to resume the spell. It jumped and turned over once, as if it had been shocked, but moved no more.
He flicked both hands at it more forcefully. It rolled over a few more times, but that was all.
Again and again and again he tried, concentrating all his power and anger and energy on making the brush float and lead him to the girl.
But it would not.
It lay there lifeless, just as hair brushes are intended to.
He let out a fearsome roar that shook the entire palace and sent everything within a 50 foot radius flying and clattering to the ground, much like the hairbrush that refused to lead him to the missing Princess.
He crumpled to the floor, his legs folding under him, and stared blankly ahead.
Rumplestiltskin was not a man to be thwarted.
Rumplestiltskin was a man to be feared.
He promised the King and Queen that he would find their daughter.
And so he would.
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A/N: Any Rumbelle fans following this? Gonna get a little Choose-Your-Own-Adventure here since I'm at a crossroads with them. I can continue developing the Rumbelle relationship or just let it be a plot device. Your call!