The next time Uma woke up, someone was knocking on her cabin door. It must have been the early hours of the day, judging by the clear blue light coming through the window. She didn't want to move; she felt so happy there, in Harry's arms, but she forced herself to let go of him and got dressed quickly. When she opened the door, Bonny looked at her anxiously; the girl was crazy and tough, but her cheeks flushed innocently when she saw the unmade bed and Harry lying there, half covered.

"Captain, I'm sorry to wake you up so early, but I thought it was necessary for you to know that one of the ships is reaching us."

"Damn it," Uma swear. This was becoming an inconvenience. "Thanks for letting me know, Bonny. Wake up the crew, I want you all on deck now."

Bonny nodded.

"Yes, captain."

Uma closed the door and strode over to the bed. She shook Harry so he would wake up. He groaned sleepily, but after a few seconds his blue eyes found Uma as he shook off the haze of his sleep. She sat on the bed next to him.

"Uma," Harry sighed happy, his voice a little husky, reaching up to her face to touch her as if he wanted to make sure she was real. Uma took his hand in hers and pressed it against her, just a few seconds...

"Get up, Harry. We must go up on deck. One of the ships is catching up with us." She said finally.

Harry sat up in bed, awake in a second, putting on his clothes and boots. Uma loved to see that look in his eyes, a promise of trouble, when he got into that charming pirate mode that she loved so much. As she watched him adjust a handkerchief to his hips, Uma couldn't help blush.

"How close are they?" He asked.

"I don't know. Bonny came to tell me a second ago, the crew is waiting on deck. We must assess the situation before deciding how to act."

The two of them left the comfort of the cabin and headed for the upper deck. The light of the fledgling dawn illuminated the Lost Revenge in shades of gold. Uma had never seen a real pirate treasure, but she thought there would surely be none that compared to the way her ship glistened while she sailed the sea in the early hours of the day. The crew was assembled on deck, all awake and ready to follow her orders.

"There is the ship, Captain," Bonny pointed. Harry and Uma approached the railing to take turns looking through the spyglass. At that time, the sea was strangely calm, although the air was filled with a light layer of mist. The ship was approaching stealthily.

"From my dad's fleet," Harry confirmed. The cold made his cheeks flushed and his breath spray out of his mouth. "One of the greats, an English galleon. I wonder why he sold it, that's not just any ship. It doesn't compare with the Revenge, of course, but anyway..."

Uma bit her lip, beginning to come up with a plan. It was maybe a little risky, and it would certainly be crossing a line, but it could work. And Uma knew she was bold enough to pull it off.

"I need someone to go to the Tempest and tell Harriet to stay away from the Revenge." She ordered. "Right now!"

They were on the move immediately, lowering the ropes to prepare a boat while Uma and Harry assessed the situation. Captain Hook was certainly full of surprises, she thought. Why would he have sold his ships knowing that whoever bought them would go after them? It wasn't that Uma thought Hook cared enough about them to dismiss a good deal, but he had been the prime instigator for them to go out to sea in search of that treasure. It just didn't make sense.

"What payment did your father accord for the ship?" Uma wondered aloud. "And who is on board?"

Harry shrugged.

"I can't see anybody, not yet. They prepare to board us; I know the crew is hiding to be the surprise factor."

Uma closed the spyglass in one fluid motion.

"Then let them come closer, is there ammunition in the powder magazine?" She asked. Harry nodded immediately, but he looked at her curiously.

"They are not many, and they are old, but there is tar and rags. We can improvise with that. What do you have in mind?" He knew her well enough to know that whatever it was, it must have been pretty crazy.

"An attack", she confirmed his suspicions. "This crew, while fierce, is small. We couldn't resist a boarding. If we sink the ship, and get prisoners, we could increase our numbers."

Harry smirked.

"And it would be a warning," he agreed. "For the other ships."

"Aye." On the Isle of the Lost, everything was always about measuring strength. And although they wanted to fool themselves into thinking that they were far, far away, lost at sea, the reality was that they were still inside the barrier; Uma knew they couldn't budge one bit.

"I'll have the crew ready the cannons." Harry said. His eyes were starting to glow red, but he took Uma's hand and placed a reverent kiss on her knuckles. He left and Uma saw him walking across the deck, giving orders, and supervising the work of the crew. He looked like the sailors in the stories they used to hear in the docks when they were children, but Uma wasn't surprised. Piracy called him, it was in his veins, and it was part of who he was, just as the sea called Uma. Back on the Isle, Harry had never been able to adequately explore that part of him, but now… he made her imagine all the possibilities. If they ever made it off the Isle of the Lost, and even if they didn't.

Possibilities.

What a strange and attractive concept.

Uma concentrated again. Gil had gotten into a boat and was getting off the ship to head for the Tempest. The ship approached in the ocean mist of the morning, moving fast, like an arrow striking the wind, relentless, to reach destiny. And Uma didn't doubt what she had to do.


"Is she crazy?" Harriet wondered aloud.

It was the early hours of the day, and Gil had just told her that Uma was planning to attack the ship that was about to catch up with. In fact, she was sending the message that she wanted Harriet to stay away from the Revenge, so that the Tempest would not be swept away by fire. She couldn't help but clench her teeth in fury.

She always knew Uma was rude, but she never believed she was insane enough to do something like that. Lost Revenge's cannons hadn't been used in years, and anything could go wrong. Furthermore, if the ship's crew decided to return fire, her small crew could not simply stop the attack, or veer fast enough to evade it.

"Not that I'm going to admit it, but I really admire her courage," CJ said, sitting at Harriet's desk. The eldest of the Hooks almost regretted taking it with her. She didn't work on the crew and was a constant annoyance with her sharp comments.

Gil smiled that strange smile of his that had been so unusual on the island, full of innocence.

"I could tell her, if you want."

CJ shot him a death glare.

"Don't you even dare, LeGume."

Harriet roared in exasperation. She felt that Uma was taking full control of the expedition, and Harriet had a strong temper that encouraged her not to take orders. If it hadn't been because she believed that Ursula's daughter was insane, that she was endangering her ship and her people, Harriet would have disobeyed her order just for the pleasure of doing so. However, she was not going to endanger her crew. She was left with no other choice: she would have to step aside and hope that her brother and Uma made it out of it alive.

"This is not bravery, this is Uma making rash decisions, as always." She hissed angrily.

CJ laughed and swung her legs in the air, looking pleased. Sometimes Harriet would swear that her sister was like an alley cat. She certainly had the character of one.

"I think you're jealous, Harriet." CJ said, purring her words. "Aren't you? You're so jealous because she has the courage to do it... and you don't."

Harriet threw a compass in CJ's direction. Her younger sister didn't flinch, not even when the tip of the compass dug into the wall behind her. And Harriet had to admit it to herself; maybe she was really jealous.

She stomped out of the navigation room, ordering the crew to turn to windward to get away from the Lost Revenge. Harriet peered over the stern, and she could see the English galleon coming closer and closer, the deck quiet, which meant they were preparing for a boarding.

Gil could no longer return to the Revenge. It was too late. Harriet could see Uma and her crew working furiously on deck; and then the sea was very still, silent, as if it too was waiting for the captain's orders.

The English galleon finally caught up with the Lost Revenge. Gil, CJ and Harriet leaned over the railing, keeping their eyes on Uma, holding their breath...

"FIRE!"

Uma's scream echoed in every crack of the waves, in every part of the wide sky, like the scream of an angry queen. And then the roar of the Lost Revenge cannons filled the vastness. The next thing Harriet knew: the English galleon was on fire, a gigantic torch burning in the middle of the water; the broken mast falling into the sea with such force that the swell rocked the Red Tempest. The crew, who had been in hiding, left the ship screaming.

The ship sank in a matter of minutes. In the Lost Revenge, Uma gazed at the flames as if she were a goddess on her throne, with a terrible gaze. Ursula's daughter was an incredible pirate, Harriet had to admit. And she almost felt guilty thinking that she would probably be dead before dark the next day.


Uma exhaled the strong smell of gunpowder, fire, and tar in the air. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and it didn't take long for her to understand that she was overloaded with adrenaline. She heard the shouts of the crew in the water and stepped away from the railing, heading toward the mainmast of the ship. She felt the eyes of her crew on her, following every one of her determined and furious footsteps. She turned to face them.

"Lower the boats, I want you to bring half the survivors on board. The other half will sail until another ship finds them; they will carry our message." She tossed her long greenish-blue tresses back over her shoulder. "Oh, and the captain of the ship… I want her or him on board."

The crew began to lower the boats. Harry, who had been watching her from the helm, approached her, gazing at the burning ship, caught like a moth to the light.

"It's a bit sad and a bit beautiful, don't you think?" He asked her.

Uma shook her head in amusement.

"I always knew that, in addition to being a pirate, you were a pyromaniac, Hook," she said jokingly. Harry laughed lightly. He stroked her braids with the hook and looked back at the wreck.

"The fire touches the sea and still burning," he mused aloud, curious as a child. "Could it be because they are both fury?"

Maybe a little like they were. Harry had the ability to be anything Uma needed, a fire or a wind. He had assured that to her last night, with every touch and reverent caress inside her. Harry smiled at her, as if he knew what Uma was thinking and leaned over to give her a rough kiss that Uma reciprocated with bites, feeling her body shudder again, her blood stirring.

When they pulled away, Uma could see the smugness in Harry's gaze and gave him a blow that was meant to be tough and playful at the same time. He laughed crazily and yet she could see beyond the smugness and found reverence and love...

She heard the boats falling into the water, and soon after, the screaming stopped. Uma climbed onto the rope to feel the cold wind on her face, stirring her braids. Harry followed her with his gaze, biting his lower lip thoughtfully. He could perceive that something in Uma was transforming… no, it was rising from within her; something that maybe had been locked up for a long time. Uma was always fearsome, tough, and dangerous; but now she wasn't just those things. She had something much stronger, an energy that Harry could only define with what he always imagined freedom would be like.

The sun had risen when the crew boarded the ship, along with the prisoners, who were drenched from head to toe. Harry put them in a row on the deck and Uma nimbly stepped off the rope, walked towards them with one hand resting on the handle of her cutlass, the gait of a queen, and Harry beside her. She looked at the prisoners, one by one, and then she couldn't help a mad laugh escaping her lips.

"But look what we have here," she announced mockingly, the crew members laughing with her, threatening. "Rick Ratcliffe, Clay Clayton, Reza..." she walked herself examining the others and leaned a little, narrowing her eyes in curiosity. "I don't know you, nor you. I want to know which one of you was called captain."

They all pointed shaking hands at Clay. Uma gave him a contemptuous look.

"Okay, here's the deal: the crew will stay to work on the Lost Revenge, or they can go back to sea, easy." Uma said.

"I always knew you were crazy," Clay snapped. "I just never believed that..."

He broke off when he felt Harry's hook stick to his neck, the tip very close to the artery. Uma, however, laughed again, pleased.

"If I remember correctly, Clay, once, when we were fourteen, you thought it was fun to call me Shrimpy. We were in the marked and you wanted to impress Mal so bad, right?" Uma said, almost singing with pleasure. Harry tightened the hook tighter, his mouth turning into a scowl at the horrible nickname. "Would you do it now, would you call me that?"

Clay tried to meet her gaze, his teeth clenched in fury, but in the end, he gave up.

"No," he said shakily.

"No," Uma agreed. "You can call me Captain, and you can only do it when I give you permission to speak, or when I ask you something directly, understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes, captain." Harry corrected. Clay glared at him, and Hook's son grinned wickedly, not the least bit intimidated.

"Yes, captain."

Uma nodded, satisfied.

"So, those who wish to leave the ship have ten seconds to do so. If you don't, go get Harry to hand you a job." She turned a bit, smiling dangerously. "Oh, and I want Clay tied up tight on the mainmast."

Clay looked at her fearfully, yet no one dared jump into the sea or protest. Instead, Harry started handing out jobs to everyone and seemed very pleased to be able to do so. Uma walked over to Bonny and Jonas, who were talking quietly. Uma found it strange that they weren't helping Desiree and Gonzo, so she wanted to know what was going on.

"Is everything in order?" She asked them. Bonny looked at her with apology on her face, hiding her left hand behind her back.

"It's nothing, captain. A little wound, but I'm fine."

Jonas shook his head.

"It is not small. Bonny was burned by a tarred cloth that was floating in the water."

Uma frowned. She held out her hand in silent request and Bonny obeyed, showing to her the injured arm. The burn wasn't too big, but there were a few pieces of cloth stuck to the skin and red-hot flesh. Bonny grimaced and tried to suppress a hiss.

"Let's go to the kitchen to heal you," Uma said. Then she turned to Jonas. "Thank you for telling me. Help Harry keep an eye on the others and send Gil to see me when he gets back."

Jonas nodded and ran to go with Harry as Uma led Bonny down to the lower deck. In the kitchen, she made the girl sit on a bench while she searched for clean rags, rum, and some ingredients. Once, at the fish and chip shop, Cook had taught Uma what to do if she ever got burned and something stuck to her skin. It was no good trying to remove it because the skin would peel off, said Cook. Instead, she taught her how to make an ointment.

"Have a drink for the pain," she told Bonny, handing her the bottle of rum.

Bonny did what Uma told her and sighed.

"Thank you, captain," she said. "I know you are very busy; probably I should take care of this myself."

Uma began to work on the balm, concentrating on remembering the ingredients. She found some grease and mixed in some dried herbs, then she tried to gently disinfect Bonny's wound with a rag soaked in rum; but Uma's fingers were used to hard work and not to caresses.

"It's my job to take care of my people," she said simply, and it seemed to her that she had never said anything so loving to anyone on her crew.

Bonny looked at Uma with admiration and respect, and felt something else, something akin to longing. She frowned, wondering what that was. She was very clear that her longing wasn't for Uma, but there was something in her that Bonny desperately wanted.

Uma applied the ointment to her and bandaged her wound with the same care with which she lifted the rope or with which she handled the rudder. Bonny thought that she looked different; she no longer fit among the children of villains before because, somehow, she was more. Uma was probably the fiercest girl on the Isle of the Lost, but she wasn't as cold as she wanted people to believe, Bonny realized. She cared about her people, and she wanted freedom for them, which was unheard of where they lived.

It was in that moment that Bonny also knew that she would follow her captain wherever she went.


Captain Hook took another deep sip of rum, hoping the alcohol would cloud his senses. Pain was not something new to him, the stinging sensation of wounded flesh was nothing unfamiliar. In his good days as a pirate, injuries and burns had been so common that Captain Hook had laughed in the faces of his opponents as metal sliced through his skin and blood drained, with the color of his eyes.

However, he never believed that he would voluntarily give up his left leg. That was the payment he agreed to give Ursula. She was not interested in the meat, but in encapsulating the powerful feeling of fear: the vivid memory of when he lost the hand Hook had felt as the crocodile bit hard through the muscle and bone of his leg. Emotions could still fuel the power of the sea witch, another reason she had abused her daughter for so many years. Uma's fury had kept her young for a long time.

Now his left leg had been replaced by a ridiculous wooden leg, and Hook hoped the high price was worth it. He hoped the curse would be broken and unleash the power of the villains. And he hoped his boy would come back. It was only in his face that Hook could see again something of his wife, a dangerous goodness that neither Harriet nor CJ, who didn't know how to love, had... it was what made James feel that little weakness for him, even if he would never admit it.

"Captain," Smee called, leaning out of the captain's cabin door. "Are you fine?"

Captain Hook gave a bitter, shattered laugh. The rum burned his throat, and he welcomed the pain like an old friend. A red skirt mixed with the fire, the flash of a smile that made him feel warmth, an unexpected and playful look...

She had been the only good thing Hook ever had. He knew it when he pulled her out of the water the day they met, and he knew it when she came out of her hiding place after she had followed him to the Isle of the Lost.

"Fine," he repeated, spitting out the word. He had given his leg in payment for a very convenient arrangement. But neither the leg nor the other hand, nothing would change the fact that his life had been miserable and melancholic. His life tasted of stale rum and rotten wood. He was tired. Very tired. "Yes, you could say, Smee."

Smee cleared his throat a little, uncomfortable.

"That's fine, sir. Would you like me to bring you some warm rags to ease the pain? The tide is unusually high, and the humidity could make you feel… uncomfortable."

James dismissed him with a hook motion. He took another long drink and felt weightless again, the soft touch of long, slender fingers, the blush of soft cheeks, and the sad sweetness of her body beneath his. His mind went from reality to dreams, although he knew there was something important that he had to think about.

Then he found himself on the deck of the Jolly Roger, although he did not know how he got there. Smee was right: the tide was high, or rather the sea level had risen. Hook knew the truth: the island was beginning to sink.

He hoped his plan worked. He had already paid too much: his ships, his leg, and yet...

Hook knew that fate would catch up with him.

And he was waiting, impatient.


Hello! * laughs uncomfortably *.
Yes, this... Well, surely you have noticed that I updated this chapter like a thousand times and then deleted it. I am sorry. It's just that I feel like I'm in crisis lately. I really like this story, I'm putting my heart into it, but sometimes I can't help but feel like I'm not doing it right. This chapter in particular caused me conflicts because I wanted to get it right, I wanted to write it in a way that would satisfy me, and at the same time I fought my impatience to do things calmly and think before acting. So yeah, it was difficult. I really, really hope you like this story. Sometimes I can't help but compare it to other stories or other writers and it fills me with insecurity. I know that everyone has a unique way of expressing things, but I can't help but wonder if mine doesn't measure up to something worthwhile, you know? Now I'm sorry I spilled this here, maybe I just needed to vent a little. I really hope you like this and I send you lots of kisses! Greetings!
ENJOY!
Also, if you want to find me on Tumblr you can look for me as xempasuchil-love-blog