A/N: Four. new. reviews. And my average reader numbers are ever-increasing. I love you guys. And because I love you and your encouraging words, I've given you an extra long chapter with lots of DRAMA. Hope you love it!
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Killian and Emma made it safely aboard the Queen Anne's Revenge before first light. Most of the sailors were still asleep in their beds. Being that Blackbeard had not employed a cabin boy since young Killian Jones had left his service, his old quarters just off the Captain's cabin were left unoccupied. It was here that Killian and Emma would have to stay for the duration of their trip to the Maritime Kingdom. Thankfully, they'd shaved off more than half the expected travel time in going by sea. Blackbeard was confident that the Queen Anne's Revenge could make it there by dawn the next day.
Killian felt a bit nostalgic walking into his old cabin boy quarters. There was only one entrance which led directly to the Captain's cabin and one very small round window on the starboard side of the ship. There was also a small chair with a table beside it in the corner and a narrow hammock bed suspended from the ceiling.
"I'll sleep in the chair," He says automatically, clearing his throat.
Emma doesn't bother to argue with him because she knows he won't listen.
The two of them enjoy a lovely breakfast that had been laid out for them on the small table. There was an ample amount of food left over, more than enough to see them through the rest of their journey to the Maritime Kingdom.
Now all they had to do was wait.
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"You have a lot of nerve showing your face here."
Rumplestiltskin smiled as he rounded the corner of the underground tunnel leading to the magical prison he'd made for the Evil Queen.
"What can I say? I am fond of a challenge."
The Evil Queen threw her head back and laughed.
"A challenge? Me? In here? Haven't you already proven yourself the better sorcerer?"
"Perhaps," He conceded with a cordial wave.
"Perhaps I already know the reason you're here," Regina began, placing her hands on the bars of her prison cell, "Perhaps I already have the answers you seek."
No sooner had her fingers wrapped around the bars than the two Redguard soldiers turned about-face and pressed the tips of their spears at her throat.
The smile on Regina's lips faded and she unwrapped her fingers from the bars, stepping backward as she raised both hands in surrender.
Immediately, the Redguard soldiers relaxed and turned their backs to her once more, resuming their initial position as if nothing had happened at all. Rumplestiltskin was awestruck. Every move the two Redguard soldiers made was in perfect unison, their eyes hollow and unyielding. He ventured a step closer to get a better look. Their pupils were wide as marbles; a thin ring of deepest crimson was the only color or light they reflected. So dark. So empty. So seemingly vacant, though their awareness of the prisoner's movement had proven them anything but.
"You see what I have to put up with?" Regina asked, gesturing at the guards.
"Well perhaps I might be able to do something about your present circumstances," He said, pacing, "For the right price."
Regina couldn't help but laugh.
"You would set me free?"
"If, in fact, you do have the information I'm seeking."
"You would be very foolish to do so," She said, making no attempt to hide the threat in her tone.
"And you would be very foolish to threaten the only one who can ever release you from this prison cell."
Regina crossed her arms.
"Touché," she replied.
"So," Rumplestiltskin began, crossing as close to the cell as he dared with the Redguard soldiers standing by, "Do we have a deal?"
"I suppose we do," She replied, "Now get me out of this hell hole."
Rumplestiltskin simply snapped his fingers and immediately Regina found herself outside, standing on top of a cliff face, overlooking the castle.
She could not hide her astonishment. She laughed out loud incredulously.
"How on earth did you manage that?"
Rumplestiltskin tittered as he twiddled his fingers gleefully.
"A magician never reveals his secrets!"
"Come, Rumple," She began, leaning in, her voice thick with suggestion, "You can tell me. Just between friends."
"Friends, are we?" He asked, chuckling, "Hardly. But I will say this. Only the source of magic like that could manage to defeat it."
"You created the Redguard?"
"Of course, dearie. Who else do you know that's capable of such dark magic?" He paused to watch the indignation flare up in her eyes before continuing to twist the proverbial knife he'd plunged in her back so many years ago, "You know they won't stop looking for you just because you made your way out of that prison cell."
Regina narrowed her eyes.
"What?" She said through her teeth, her anger seething. "You were supposed to set me free."
"And so I did," He replied, matter of factly, "But protecting you from your enemies was never part of the deal." He leaned in close to her, sneering, "You should have chosen your terms more carefully."
Regina stepped back in a show of resignation. Knowing a show was all it really was.
"I should have known better."
"Indeed you should," He said, laughing. "Now. You'd better tell me what you know quickly, dearie. The soldiers will be here before you know it."
Regina shuddered. That was the very last thing she needed.
"Very well," she said with a sigh, "I saw the Princess escape through the tunnels with a man."
"What man?" He said, leering at her.
"A rugged, tall, dark, and handsome type. Kinda swarthy looking. Easy on the eyes."
"HIS NAME!" The Dark One roared impatiently.
"I don't know," She replied with a nonchalant shrug, "Names are your specialty, not mine."
"We had a deal," He growled through his teeth.
She leaned in towards him, a triumphant smile growing ever wider on her face.
"You should have chosen your terms more carefully."
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Kilian was anxious. So far, he'd done fifty push-ups, thirty pull-ups on a bar he'd hung from the rafters as a teenage boy, had three snacks, studied five or six maps from his haversack, even sharpened all the weapons belonging to the pair of them with a whetstone he kept on his person at all times.
Clearly, this was a man uncomfortable with idleness. Emma wondered how he'd managed to stay sane on long journeys aboard the Jolly Roger. Not that she minded watching him work up a sweat, in fact she rather enjoyed watching his muscles strain and swell with the effort, all the while hiding behind the book she'd been pretending to read in the little chair for the last several hours. But his constant need to do something was starting to make her restless.
He dropped to his hands and knees and was just about to start another set of pushups when she slammed her book shut.
"Killian, stop."
He looked up at her quizzically. She sighed and set her book on the table beside her.
"You're making me anxious."
"Apologies, love," He said, sighing as he sat himself down on the cabin floor. "I just can't abide this."
"Come here," She said. Her eyes and voice were soft and filled with understanding as she reached for him.
KIllian sat very still for a moment, thinking carefully how he would respond.
He didn't want to scare her again. And he knew they should be careful not to encourage each other's affections. But they were stuck here in a very small cabin and he was wired and there was nowhere else to go.
Caution be damned, He decided finally, knowing he was probably agreeing to his own execution in doing so, but needing whatever comforts Emma had waiting for him in her arms.
He crawled over to her.
"Sit down," She implored him gently. He obliged, taking a seat on the floor in front of her. She leaned forward and began stroking her fingers through his hair. Kilian let his eyes slide shut and reeled in the simple pleasantness of it. He lay his head down in her lap and she smiled at his resignation. "Tell me what's troubling you," She said softly. It was more of a command than a request, but he knew it was well meant.
The trouble was that he didn't want to reveal that part of himself to her.
Killian knew that Emma looked at him as if he were fearless; like her own personal knight in shining armour who could do no wrong. Selfless, brave, and true. A hero. He didn't want to admit that he was afraid. He didn't want to tell her of the self-doubt that plagued him. He told himself it was because he wanted her to feel safe.
But in truth, it was because he reveled in Emma's perception of him. No one had ever looked at him the way she did. He didn't want to lose that. And with the constant danger they faced, he didn't want her to lose that either.
But she needs to know the truth. She needs to know I'm just a man. A man with weaknesses and flaws. That I can't always be the hero. Because I'm not.
"I'm afraid, Swan," He said with a sigh of resignation.
"What are you afraid of, Killian?" She asked, lazily running her fingers through his thick, dark hair, loving the way he was warming to her and responding to her touch.
"Oh, many things," He said, draping his arm over her leg as a pillow for his head, "Afraid Blackbeard will betray us. Afraid we may not be able to reach the Maritime Kingdom before Smee or make it aboard the Jolly Roger without anyone recognizing you. Afraid you've hurt your ankle too much to be able to run anymore."
"Don't worry about my ankle," She replied, interrupting him, "At least there I can set your mind at ease."
"You're doing a fine job of setting my mind at ease," He replied, placing a chaste kiss on her knee. She smiled and continued tracing patterns on his scalp with her hands, twisting his locks in between her fingers, feeling him warm and melt and mold to her like soft clay in her hands. He sighed again, still conflicted in his mind though he felt his body betray him, her pleasant ministrations drawing him further into her arms. "But that's not all, Swan."
"Then tell me what is," She replied, her voice soft and beseeching.
"I'm afraid that ultimately, I won't be able to protect you."
She paused at that. Only for a moment. And then she ran her hand languidly along his jaw, gently raising his chin to draw his eyes to hers. He obliged.
"I'm not afraid of that."
"I'm no match for the Dark One, love." There was no trace of false humility or self-pity or affirmation-seeking in his voice. "If it comes to a fight, I won't be able to defeat him."
Emma searched his eyes and knew he truly believed every word he had said.
"Perhaps not," She said softly. "But if that time does come, we'll stand a far better chance if we face it together."
He gazed up at her, saw the boldness and sincerity shining in her bright green eyes and thought to himself that he'd never seen anything quite as beautiful as his Swan. She was the true hero. She was the brave one; the fearless one. And he loved her for it.
He couldn't admit that to her. Not now. Not yet.
But he could bask in the sweetness of the gentle kiss she placed upon his lips.
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The next morning, Emma woke to the sound of Killian whispering her name softly in her ear. The feeling was so dreamy and pleasant, she couldn't bear to rouse herself.
"Swan, please," He pleaded, "We've long since arrived at our destination, the crew and Captain are fast asleep, but they won't be for much longer. We must go. Now."
"Alright," She replied, carefully climbing out of the hammock bed.
"Here love, best put this on," He instructed, twirling her cloak around her shoulders, pulling the hood up over her head. She smiled as he buckled the clasp for her, still half asleep.
Killian led her carefully out of the cabin, sneaking silently past Blackbeard, who was snoring. They were nearly spotted by Blackbeard's First Mate, the barbarous Mr. Kenway, but Killian made sure to duck behind a large crate on deck just in the nick of time. Once Kenway had ventured below deck, they made a run for it, safely clearing the gangway and disappearing into the pre-dawn night.
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Just after sunrise, Mr. Kenway was pounding loudly on the Captain's door.
"Captain Blackbeard, sir? We arrived safely in the Maritime Kingdom while you were sleeping. Didn't want to wake you needlessly. The ship's docked and the crew are waiting for orders, sir."
Blackbeard rubbed his eyes sleepily and rolled out of bed.
"Very good, Mr. Kenway. Have the crew see that she's fully supplied and ready to depart once we've unloaded the cargo."
"Aye aye, Captain."
Blackbeard listened for the sound of Mr. Kenway's footsteps retreating. Once satisfied that no one would dare to be caught hanging around the Captain's quarters when he'd given orders for the day's work, he made his way to the cabin boy's chambers and knocked gently on the door.
"Hook!" He called softly, his voice no louder than a whisper. When he heard no reply, he opened the door and found the room empty. There was a folded note hanging from a bar in the rafters just above the hammock bed.
"Captain J.A.S. Hook thanks Admiral Blackbeard for his kindness and loyalty to His Majesty's humble servants. No doubt our paths will cross again ere long."
It was the last line in the note that made Blackbeard's heart leap into his throat. He spun around and strode over to the large black chest at the foot of his own bed. He tore through its contents until they were all strewn about the room.
There was no sign of Snow White's invisibility cloak.
And Blackbeard was almost certain there never would be again.
He couldn't help the bitter laughter that spewed forth from his mouth. What began as a low chuckle increased in volume and intensity till it grew into a haunting sort of bellow; like the sound of a madman howling at the moon.
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