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Now, I know some of you are anxious for this chapter, so I won't delay you any further... Hope you enjoy!
The prisoner keeps his head down to hide his smile as the Evil Queen barges into his cell, nearly sending the door off its hinges in her fury.
Right on time, he thinks with satisfaction, wiping the smirk off his face and raising his head to look up at her from his position on the floor. The chains on his wrists are too short to allow him to stand, which he's grateful for, since he doesn't want to honor her presence by standing and bowing, anyway.
She stomps across the room to stop right in front of him, the heart in her hand glowing red and a maniacal gleam in her eyes that does nothing to impress him.
"She escaped!" she yells at him.
"I'm aware," he responds calmly.
"You knew she would? Why didn't you tell me?!"
"Perhaps if you'd told me of your plan, I could have warned you against it," he replies in a flippant tone.
His momentary impertinence has her raising her arm and squeezing the heart while she yells, "You think you can out-smart me, wizard!? Remember, I can end your life any time I want!"
Gasping for breath, he scrunches his face and squints his eyes to watch the heart, even going so far as to let out a grunt of pain. After a moment, she eases her grip and he slumps against the wall, his body going lax against the cold, damp stone.
"You know you can't kill me," he grits out, "You need me too much. I've told you – "
"I know what you've told me!" she interrupts. "'Have patience, Your Majesty.' 'Wait until the time is right, my Queen.' Well I did! I did wait! And now her twenty-eighth birthday is nearly upon us and I had to dosomething!"
"As you say, Your Highness," he responds.
She snorts in irritation and starts pacing. "Oh, I know your opinion. We've had this conversation before," she says, "but I want her here, under lock and key, by the time she turns twenty-eight."
"And I've told you before that without Killian Jones, she is of no threat to you," he responds matter-of-factly.
"So I should just leave her be? Let her live out the rest of her days as a free woman knowing that her father is constantly planning – "
"But his plans have never worked, have they?" he interrupts. "I've told you how to stop them every one of them."
"You've told me how to stop him from saving Snow White, yes, but I still haven't managed to capture him!"
How he keeps from rolling his eyes is a mystery even to him, weary of having this same conversation again. "The King is – "
"I've told you repeatedly not to call him that!"
"Fine. The farmer is smart, Your Majesty. He's cautious. And he has the help of one of the realm's most esteemed knights," he replies in an attempt to placate her.
He knows he has succeeded when she whispers, "Perhaps," in a thoughtful tone, but it doesn't last long before she raises her voice again, "But I still can't figure out how he manages to evade capture at every turn!"
He doesn't respond, biding his time while she works through her conundrum, pacing back and forth across the stone floor. Her thoughts churn around her head, each one passing across her features as he waits patiently for her next comment.
Because if there's one thing he is, it's patient.
So he relaxes back against the wall and watches as she nearly wears a trench in the stone floor, the clacking of her heels echoing in the sparsely filled room.
It's like watching a tennis match, he thinks with amusement, back and forth, back and forth.
(It's too bad they don't have tennis in this realm.)
(Perhaps he should invent it.)
At long last she speaks again, still pacing, "I know what they were trying to do in Arendelle. They were hoping the girl would be able to find a new True Love in that hovel of a town. That's why they bought that pathetic little tavern... Since it seems she has a penchant for sailors, they were hoping she'd find another."
"And they can hope all they want," he mollifies her, "but as I've told you before: She'll not find one. There's no other with the power to unlock her magic."
"You're sure?" she asks, finally stopping the incessant pacing to look him in the eye.
"I am absolutely positive," he replies with conviction and, damned if it doesn't take everything in him not to smile.
Holding that smile in gets even more difficult when she immediately goes back to pacing, looking and acting like a petulant child as she mumbles, "I still want her in the dungeon before her twenty-eighth birthday. But to do that I need to find her." She stops again and raises the heart. "Tell me where she is," she demands.
"You know it doesn't work like that," he tells her. "I can't just conjure up an image at will. Besides, I see the future, not the present."
"Then tell me where she's going to be," she persists.
He sighs. "There are several possibilities at this point, none especially helpful – "
"Ah, yes. The future is always changing," she interrupts with disdain.
He ignores the interruption as he continues. " – In a tavern, walking down a crowded street at night, in the forest – "
"Which tavern?"
"I don't know. I'm not familiar with every tavern in the realm," he replies sardonically.
"Well, keep trying!" she shouts, turning to the door, "and send for me as soon as you know where she is!"
Not a chance in hell, my Queen, he thinks as she traipses off, the door swinging closed behind her.
Once her footsteps can no longer be heard, he hops to his feet and rubs at his wrists, waving an arm to conjure a comfortable chair out of thin air. As he settles into it, he snaps his fingers and a table materializes next to him, sporting a decanter of scotch and a cut crystal glass. He pours himself a drink, relaxing back into the chair and closing his eyes as he finally lets the triumphant smile spread across his face.
As always, the tavern quiets when Captain Hook walks in.
When he set out on this life, this wasn't exactly what he'd aimed for, but being a notorious pirate has its consequences. Not long ago, he would have taken pride in the reaction, in knowing that his reputation warrants it. Tonight, though, it's just an irritation that adds to the annoyance already churning in his stomach.
Trying to shake off the feeling, he directs Dopey to a nearby table and motions for drinks from the closest barmaid. The lass is quick to fulfill his request and Killian downs his first drink in nearly one swallow. Dopey gives him a nervous look like he's not exactly sure this is a good idea and Killian pats his shoulder, whether to reassure the dwarf or himself, he's not certain.
It doesn't take long for the redhead to approach them, her finger wrapping around her ringlet curls and licking at her lips.
Killian very nearly rolls his eyes but manages not to. This is what he's here for, so he smiles back at her and invites her to join them. He's only just poured the lass a drink when he sees Emma and Ruby enter. They both scan the crowd before Ruby leans into Emma's ear and whispers something.
Emma's eyes flick to his for an instant and she looks away quickly. As she does, the redhead next to him uses her finger to run along his cheek and turn his head to face her, obviously resentful over his momentary distraction. He doesn't look away from the woman but he keeps track of Emma out of the corner of his eye as she and Ruby cross the room and begin talking to a group of men at the back corner table.
He considers it a feat of self-control that he doesn't flinch when he sees a man pat the seat beside him to invite Emma to sit down. Casually, he turns away from the redhead long enough to take a drink so that he can size up the bastard and when he does he catches Dopey's look of complete disbelief as Emma sits down.
Determinedly looking back to his companion, Killian tries to keep his mind on why they're here. The faster he can get the information he wants, the faster he can get out of here so that he doesn't have to watch Emma sidling up to some –
Bloody hell. That man did not just put his arm around her and she did not just whisper something in his ear.
Fury lances through him, every muscle in his body tensing, making his ears ring and his eyes narrow.
Fuck. This is going to kill him.
Forcing himself to look away, he catches Dopey's eye. He can tell the dwarf knows what he's thinking and he shoots Killian a look of sympathy. Killian takes another drink of his rum and closes his eyes on a long breath.
The redhead is jabbering away in his ear and it takes every ounce of discipline he has to turn back to her, to smile and listen to what she's saying. The sound of her voice makes his skin crawl but he manages to push it down long enough to ply her with seemingly innocent questions to find out if she knows anything worth learning. He can immediately tell that she does. Not that she's going to tell him just yet. He clenches his jaw as he plays along, his eyes constantly stealing glances at Emma while the woman next to him drags out the conversation in an obvious attempt to keep his attention.
Emma and Ruby seem to be enjoying themselves immensely, laughing and chatting with the group of men. It eats at his gut, each shout of laughter pushing him closer to exploding, and when she leans into the sailor's side and cheers him on as he and his friends play dice, he tightens his fist around his drink so hard he's surprised he doesn't crush the glass.
The woman next to him isn't helping calm any of his rage with the way she's playing coy and it's starting to wear his patience thin. He keeps the act going, though, because they need information. And, in his experience, information is the most valuable commodity in the world no matter how much some people value gold and silver.
The night goes on and every minute frustrates Killian more. Watching Emma flirt with another man so effortlessly ties his stomach in knots and when he sees the man's hand settle on her waist, he's tempted to barge over there and run the man through.
The feel of a hand on his thigh brings his attention back to the redhead and it takes everything in him not to yank it away. Then he sees Emma move her hand to the sailor's thigh and he swears his body temperature spikes to boiling at the white hot rage that shoots through him.
Suddenly out of patience, he turns to the redhead and gives her his best Captain Hook leer, leaning into her and keeping his eyes on her mouth as he starts asking direct questions to find out what she's hiding. It's a relief that she seems besotted enough to start answering as she grabs his collar and lifts her lips to his ear, whispering to him in a sultry voice.
It's not as much as he'd hoped for but apparently the Queen of Arendelle has closed her borders to Regina by erecting an ice wall around her kingdom. When he asks why, she says that Regina's knights attacked one of her villages. She doesn't know the reason behind the attack but the knights are now all imprisoned in Queen Elsa's dungeon.
That's enough for him. He doesn't care if there's anything else. Apparently Emma's escape is not common knowledge. He feels an instant of relief and stands abruptly, completely through with this charade. He motions to Dopey and the little dwarf is up and moving in the next second.
"Head back to the ship and get her ready to sail," he tells him.
Dopey nods and hurries out.
Turning back to the redhead, who is looking at him in confusion, he slips her some silver coins. "Thank you, darling," he tells her. "Go buy yourself something pretty."
She looks like she wants to argue. She wasn't after silver coins and they both know it. She studies him for another moment and, after a quick glance over her shoulder at the table where Emma is sitting, she surprises him by stepping forward and kissing him full on the mouth. He doesn't resist but he doesn't participate either and when she breaks the kiss, he's shocked to see her wearing a knowing, if somewhat regretful, smile.
"It was worth a try, anyway," she says softly. Then she takes a step back, sighing in resignation as she studies him from head to toe. When her eyes meet his again, she adds, "You know, I may not be as pretty as her but I would have let you do whatever you wanted."
He starts to pretend he doesn't know what she's talking about but changes his mind. There's something proud in the woman's stance that he suddenly admires. So, he adds a few more coins to her hand and gives her a slight bow. She nods in return, then straightens her shoulders, jangles the silver coins and walks out of the establishment.
Looking back to Emma and Ruby, he studies the group for another moment. Emma is smiling happily as the man next to her apparently rolls a good hand and his fist tightens at the site.
He knows he should leave. He should let her and Ruby continue their 'interrogation' of the sailors and head back to his ship. Making a scene would not be the smartest move. He knows Regina has taken an interest in him and much of what he does gets reported back to her in one way or another. But then he sees the man's hand wandering closer to Emma's breast and her quick reflex to stop him and the decision is made without conscious thought.
Finishing off the last of his drink, he slams the tankard onto the table with enough force to get the attention of the room shifted back to him. Then, without a word, he starts toward the table, his hook resting on the hilt of his sword as he takes deliberate steps. The room goes quiet, and he should probably care, but he can't think of anything except getting her away from that man.
Still, he knows he can't call the man out, no matter how much he wants to. He's got to play this smart. He doesn't care about the attention to him but drawing attention to Emma even in the smallest way could raise questions. People tend to remember beautiful blondes and notorious pirate captains.
He keeps his face impassive as he walks, conscious of the way everyone is watching. He knows his reputation and he knows the fascination people have with him. He's used it to his advantage more than once and he's going to use it right now. He needs to make this look like he's just interested in a night of passion, not like he's ready to gut the bastard for taking liberties with the woman he loves.
When he approaches the table, the sailors visibly recoil which makes his want to smile. He shifts his gaze between Ruby and Emma and the men next to them both make the very wise decision to release their grips and scoot away.
He doesn't say anything. He just stands at the head of the table and continues to glance between the two women. Then, very slowly, he extends his hand… to Ruby.
A flash of surprise crosses the brunette's face but she takes his hand and stands without a word. He guides her around to his left side where she links her arm in his before he turns back to the table.
"You can join us, too, if you'd like," he says to Emma.
For a moment he thinks she's going to refuse, her eyes glittering with fury. But she glances to Ruby and whatever she sees in her friend's expression makes her relent.
Rising, she takes his outstretched hand and allows him to lead her and Ruby from the room. The whispers start up before they even make it to the door and Emma's shoulders stiffen – and they stay stiff the entire walk back to the docks.
As soon as they set foot on deck of the Jolly Roger, Emma releases his hand and turns on him.
"Was that really necessary?" she hisses.
He knew it was coming but he'd hoped she'd at least have the sense to wait until they had disappeared into his cabin. There are too many people milling around the docks who might hear. "Perhaps we should take this conversation below," he says, grabbing her hand back and motioning to the dock with his eyes, praying she gets the hint.
Apparently, she does because she starts walking again without another word.
As soon as he pulls the hatch shut over his head, she's on him immediately, and this time she doesn't bother to keep her voice down, her eyes flashing with temper and her hands balled in fists at her sides as she shouts at him. "Did you have to make it look like we were going with you to – "
"Would you have preferred I left you there to spend the remainder of evening trying to fend off that man's advances?!" he cuts her off, raising his voice as well, partly to be heard and partly to let out some of the frustration he feels, the image of her hand on the bastard's thigh seared into vision almost to the point where he can't see what's actually in front of him.
"Maybe I wasn't planning on fending him off!" she fires back and Killian swears he might actually throttle her, fisting his hand and taking a step in her direction.
Her shoulders square off in defiance as he approaches. He's not even sure what he's planning to do when he reaches her but he doesn't get the chance to find out. He only makes it half-way across the space between them before Ruby blocks his path.
"Stop!" she shouts, glancing to each of them in turn, "That's enough. Let's just calm down. We went there for a reason so why don't we talk about what we found out."
The words do nothing to diffuse the tension in the room, he and Emma continuing to stare each other down, the air so thick it's difficult to breathe, causing both of them to inhale and exhale sharply.
When neither of them speak, Ruby turns to him. "I assume you found out something or you wouldn't have gotten us all out of there."
He tears his gaze away from Emma at the words, locking eyes with Ruby instead. "Queen Elsa has closed her borders and the black knights involved in the attack have been taken to her dungeon. No one knows the reason behind the attack. So it seems the princess is still believed to be dead."
Ruby nods to him. "We learned the same," she says on a release of breath, "which I suppose is good news."
Killian can only nod tightly in agreement, his eyes moving back to Emma when she spins on her heel to look out the window, crossing her arms over her chest.
"So, should we set sail tonight or wait 'til morning?" Ruby asks.
"We'll wait," he responds in a clipped voice, his eyes still on Emma's back. "Too many people saw the two of you board with me. If we leave right now, they'll know you accompanied me."
He's sees Ruby nod in the corner of his eye before she glances between the two of them a few times.
"Well, then," Ruby says in a calm voice that he can tell she's using in an attempt to lower the temperature of the room. "I'll just let Dopey know that we'll be leaving in the morning."
She glances to each of them one more time, concern on her features before she turns and walks out the door, closing it behind her with a quiet click.
Emma still doesn't move, keeping her eyes trained on the window, the silence charged with antagonism. Her shoulders are set, standing stiff and proud with her head high while she takes several long, measured breaths. The air feels like it's crackling around them as he continues to stare at the back of her head, taking deep breaths himself in an effort to slow his rapid pulse. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, waves of it flowing down to nearly her waist and he gulps hard as he remembers the way that sailor had run his hand down those beautiful tresses.
He wants to cross to her, to pull her into his arms and erase the memory of that man, to erase the memory of every man that isn't him, from her brain. He wants to delve his hand into her hair until it's only him she can remember, only him she can think of. But he can't. She's not his anymore. A fact that was made evident tonight by how well she played her roll at the tavern.
The thought makes his stomach twist and he tries to push it down because it's not her fault. He can't blame her for anything she did since they've been separated.
But it eats at him. It's been eating at him since he found her, even though he wasn't ready to admit it, but now that he's seen her with another man, it just makes it worse.
Her lips at his ear… her hand on his thigh… her body tight against his side…
Lowering his head, he clenches his eyes shut against the images, doing his best to expel them from his mind. It shouldn't matter what she's done, God knows he didn't earn his reputation with women by being celibate. But the thought of other men touching her, the thought that she may have, and very likely did, give something away that would have been his…
He's pulled from his thoughts when she abruptly turns on her heel and makes toward the ladder with determined strides.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asks sharply, stepping in front of her to block her path.
"I need some air," she replies without looking at him, her eyes directed at the ladder over his shoulder.
"You can't go up on deck yet. People will see you. You need to stay below, at least for the time being."
She gives him a confused look for an instant before her eyes harden again. "Of course not," she replies sarcastically, "we wouldn't want to tarnish the great Captain Hook's reputation by letting anyone think we're already finished… Perhaps Ruby and I should stumble off the gangplank in the morning with our hair mussed and our corsets half unlaced!"
The disdain in her voice pushes his anger to a boiling point again. "What did you expect me to do, princess? Leave you there with that…?"
"Ruby and I would have been fine. We could have handled it. You didn't have to make it look like you were… like we were…" She trails off, seemingly flustered as her cheeks redden.
"Ah, so I should have asked you for tea?" he asks with derision. "Do you think they would have believed that?"
Her eyes darken at his tone, lifting her chin in defiance. "You didn't have to ask us to do any – "
"So instead, you would have me come back to my ship alone and wait for you to return, all the while picturing that man's hands on you?!" he cuts her off, his voice rising again as the image flashes in his eyes.
"Considering how busy you were with that redhead, I'm surprised you even noticed!" she shouts at him.
The reply on his tongue freezes as the implication hits him: She's jealous. Maybe as jealous as him. The thought softens his heart but it's short-lived as she continues with venom, "And when you finally do notice, you make it look like Ruby is the one you want, not me. I was just an… an afterthought!"
"I had to!" he bursts out, "I couldn't risk it! Most everything I do gets back to the Evil Queen in one way or another. It's a good bet she already knows I was in Arendelle when you escaped. If she then hears about me making a display with a blonde, she might put it together…"
The anger on her face disappears as he speaks, changing to concern. "Regina knows you're alive?" she asks, stepping forward.
The worry in her voice is such a surprise that the fight is completely knocked out of him and he shakes his head, replying in a gentler tone, "Not Killian Jones. Or at least I don't think so. But she knows Captain Hook is alive and he's caused her enough problems over the years to warrant her interest."
Emma considers that for a moment as she darts a glance over to the chest in the corner. When she speaks again, her voice is level but with a trace of reprimand, "All the more reason why you should have left us there. We could have gotten away from them on our own…"
When he rolls his eyes, her voice gets sharper.
"… They were just starting to talk. There might have been more to learn!"
"Perhaps," he concedes, through his teeth, "but I couldn't walk away and leave you with – "
"What difference does it make to you!?" she interrupts, her voice back at shouting level. "You obviously don't want me. You wanted that… red-haired wench enough to kiss her – "
"She kissed me!"
She scoffs at that. "Oh, and the great Captain Hook would never turn down a willing female."
"I turned one down tonight!" he shouts back. "If you think that kiss was all she wanted…"
"I know exactly what she wanted – "
"Yes, the same thing you made that man think you wanted. Tell me, princess, if I hadn't taken you out of there, how far would you have gone with the charade?"
The crack of her hand on his cheek echoes through the room, snapping his head to the side.
He'd expected it and even welcomes it as the physical pain surpasses the emotional agony roiling in his gut for a moment.
Running his thumb over the stinging flesh, he clenches his jaw and breathes out through his nose. He considers walking out but when he looks back to her and sees the expression on her face, he changes his mind.
Her eyes are wide, both her hands raised and pressed over her mouth, like she's surprised at her own action. She's still breathing heavy, her cheeks flushed and, before he knows what she's about, she steps forward and grips his collar, yanking him to her.
The force of the kiss has him grunting in pain when his lips get smashed between their teeth. It quickly turns into a moan of pleasure, however, when her tongue darts out and pries at the seam of his lips.
Without conscious thought, he kisses her back, winding his hand in her hair and fisting it there to keep her close. Not that she's going anywhere. No, instead, she's pushing her body into his with such ferocity that he loses his balance and stumbles back until his legs hit the desk behind him. The momentum has her leaning forward to keep their lips fused together, her hips crashing into his on the edge of the wood, sending a burst of lust through his system.
Trying to regain his balance, he reaches out blindly with his hook, digging it into the wood. He hears parchment rip as well and realizes he's just torn a hole in one of his maps. The fact that that knowledge even occurs to him shocking considering the way Emma is plundering his mouth, her tongue wet and purposeful as she explores every inch of it.
She releases him as quickly as she'd grabbed him, taking two hasty steps back and leaving him feeling bereft. Her eyes drop to the floor in what looks like embarrassment or shame and something inside him splinters at the thought. He's not sure which it is, but it doesn't matter. He can't stand her feeling either way, so he closes the distance between them again, cupping her cheek to raise her head while ducking his own head low enough to angle his lips onto hers once more.
He swallows her gasp of surprise, taking advantage of the way her mouth opens on the sound to push his tongue past her lips. She doesn't respond at first, apparently stunned, but it doesn't take long for her to kiss him back, her mouth following his as he leads her head to the right by tugging on her hair. The pleasure-filled groan she makes has got to be the most erotic things he's ever heard, adding fuel to the already raging fire burning through him. When he moves his hand into the soft hair at the nape of her neck, she reciprocates by snaking one hand under his coat to clutch at his back, her fingers digging in to bring him closer, molding every inch of her body to his while her other hand moves to the back of his head, holding him to her in a vice grip that matches his own desperation.
She feels divine, her curves lined up to him with not so much as a whisper of space between them even as she pushes forward to get impossibly closer. Spinning her, he backs her into the table, his hand traveling down to her waist and squeezing with fierce determination. He groans again when her fingernails rake along his scalp to urge him on, her lips prying at his, nipping and sucking in a way he doesn't remember her ever doing before…
And that realization is all it takes to bring the question back to the forefront of his mind: What has she done in these past years and who has she done it with? Has she sought comfort or passion in the arms of another man? He wants to ask her, to find out for sure, but he can't. It's not his right to know anymore, the thought making excruciating pain rise up in his chest.
So he kisses her harder, pulls her closer, trying to blur the question in his head by losing himself in the want he feels radiating off her. His whole body is on fire, the reckless need to be better than any other man she might have been with burning through his veins.
Leaving her mouth, he runs his lips over to her throat, sucking hard enough to brand her. She gasps as his lips unlatch from her neck and then she's turning her head, her thumb lifting his chin so that her lips can leave an identical mark on his skin. He growls at the feeling, urging her up onto the edge of the desk and pushing her legs open so he can step between them. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he lines up their hips and tugs her forward, his arm holding her secure to make sure she feels the way she's affecting him.
The way she whimpers and lets her head fall back has him rocking against her, her eyes dilating just before they close on a long moan filled with pleasure. The sound makes triumph race through blood. She's not thinking of anyone else now, he thinks with satisfaction, not with the way her mouth falls open in an invitation he can't pass up as he attacks it again. She kisses him back just as aggressively, all thought leaving his brain at the way her fingers wade through the hair on his chest, her nails clawing at him as she breaks from his mouth to hiss through her teeth.
He's completely lost in her, reveling in the soft noises she makes, the way her body arches into his when he runs his hand up her torso, grazing his thumb along the bottom of her breast. The way her nails dig into his spine to line their bodies up more perfectly, the way her hips rock into his, seeking more friction…
It's not until he hears her breathe out his name that reality comes crashing down, the sound of it in the throes of passion something he's never heard before, and with it comes a sense of clarity that reminds him that this is Emma, not some random wench that he picked up for the night.
And suddenly everything feels wrong, because this isn't how it was supposed to be. Their first time wasn't supposed to be laced with anger. It was supposed to be on their wedding night, spurred on by love and tenderness. And this, what they're doing now, it isn't about love, and he can't take her like this. No matter what they've been through, she's still the woman he loves, and if they ever do this, that's what it will be about, not this overwhelming need to prove something or ease the frustration he feels. With a final nip at her bottom lip, he breaks the kiss, groaning with regret.
She looks dazed when he takes her in, her eyes still closed as she sways toward him, seeking his lips again. It takes no small effort to resist as he pries her hand from his hair and wraps their fingers together. When her eyes open, they're filled with wonder and lust and a surprisingly tender emotion that nearly cracks his resolve.
He gives into it for one more moment, rubbing a much more gentle kiss across her lips before he steps completely out of her arms. When he does, he sees the question in her eyes but before it can form on her tongue, he turns to go, walking straight to the door without looking back.