Well thank you for your reviews. I had a hard time with that first chapter. I haven't written in ages, and I feel as if I've taken the training wheels off my metaphorical writing "bike" a bit so soon. Oh well, I will most likely revise it later. Since I'm to excited to contain myself and make you all wait...Here is the next chapter. Hope you all enjoy it :)
~Artimas
Chapter 2: Memories
Hook refused to approach her right away. She looked like a bloody mess, a fallen angel of sorts. Shaking his head he pushed his thoughts away.
It was her own fault, he had given her the chance to be free, but the woman was defiant as usual. He rolled his eyes, she was a nuisance.
Her limp body swayed in rhythm to the ship, and Killian could feel dread creep into his being. He couldn't tell if she was breathing. His stomach clenched. Was she dead? Did he let her die? Had he truly lost himself?
He had always thought his quest a just one, a life for a life. Did that mean everyone else's lives were insignificant? Yes. This was the path chosen. In 300 years he had never questioned his motives, and what should make today so different? A idiotic woman and her lies?
He needed to walk away, to just leave her to the brig. Through his internal debate his eyes never wavered from her face and before long he was kneeling in front of her. His hand searching her neck for a pulse.
Finally feeling the blood of life run through her, he let out a collected breath of relief. Good. the knots in his stomach loosened. But a twisted thought formed, how much longer would she have? When Cora returned...that would be it. No more Emma Swan. Just like that. Gone.
She brought out such a complex mix of emotions in him, he scoffed. This was not part of the bargain, no one would change the road he traveled. Not even Milah's ghost could stop him now.
"Well that's settled." absent mindedly he reached out and tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear. "…I'm sorry love…but I can't let you win." With that he rose to his feet. This wasn't his mess to get in the middle of. She was the key to finding the crocodile, and that was all. He nodded sharply. Some pretty little thing would not deter him from reaching his ultimate goal. With revenge fresh on the mind, he tuned his back. He was a pirate and he did not do charity work.
Hook marched onto the deck, giving emphasis behind each step. Nodding at his quartermaster, and continuing into the captains quarters. No one dared to stop him.
His room was elegant. Carved from the wood of the ship it's self. Shelves adorned each wall and were overflowing from the floor to ceiling with books, their spines dyed in bright colors. Embossed titles in gold and silver gleamed in the mornings light.
A bay window off the back of the ship, looked out into the ocean's water. A harbor off in the distance could just barely be seen, once used by traders. A weathered statue taller than the largest oak in the dark forest saluted the sea, its hand once held a large lantern to guide sailors to the cove. The town had loss its use when the curse had taken over.
A brass telescope on a tripod looked out the same window and up into the heavens. Dust coated its casing, obviously never touched. It was enchanted to help navigators follow the stars to their hearts desire. The telescope had been a gift from Killian's brother, before he joined the kings men. How he longed to roam the sea once again nothing but those two as his guide.
A fire crackled in a snug hearth, casting warmth throughout the room. Killian paused in front of it, warming his hands. Next to him was his large canopy bed and a mahogany table and chair, a collection of objects displayed across it.
The items were not set in any particular order, and he found himself drawn towards them: of note their was a solid metal hand gun found in Emma's pocket, a rusty dagger with a polished pearl handle, the matching cuffs Cora had lent him, and a picture frame of his dearly departed…many more items remained littering his desks surface.
He eyed a small leather billfold that held many plastic squares, a picture of who he assumed to be Henry, and money. The world she came from had such strange papers. Suppressing the impulse to sit he instead continued towards the dresser.
The least he could do was take her a new shirt, she would be freezing by night and he couldn't have her catching the shakes. Although to be honest it didn't much matter with the outcome she faced.
He stretched taught muscles as he walked. Too many days off the ship, and too many nights on the ground. The floor creaked beneath his feet and he wondered if Emma was awake. Flipping the cabinets door open, a small leather box greeted him. He moved past it to the garments searching until he found a thick enough blouse. Haphazardly tossing it on the table.
Without a second thought he sank into the cushioned chair. He didn't want to see her yet. Blindly searching under the desk his hand finally came in contact with a glass. Thank the heavens for rum. He yanked the top off with his teeth, carelessly letting it fall to the ground. Milah occupying all thoughts, as he pulled her photo into sight, and nursed the wonderful concoction.
If she could see him, she would hate him. She would want to wring my neck for becoming so trapped. His fist pounded against the chairs arm, damn crocodile, he had to pay for what he did. He took a long swig, letting the alcohol sear through him and numb his emotions. How many days had he mourned her passing? To many. Not satisfied with his minds eye, he took another swig, and another.
Killian had not realized he'd fallen asleep until he woke to a light rap on the door. The sun was setting, casting everything in a vibrant pink and purple. His fire had died down to embers and a chill had settled around him. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he followed the movements of his red capped first mate.
"Sir? The men have grown restless…" Smee's face may have appeared childlike, but his eyes held wisdom. They flickered over the desk stopping at the picture frame, and the bottle of rum half empty.
Hook stretched, and yawned. "I know." A defeated expression plastered on his face.
"Its not you sir…its Cora. The men…no...I feel that she has turned you into a s-s-s-servant." Smee's voice was filled with nerves, as if he was telling Hook something he didn't already know. Sympathetically he continued, "Milah wouldn't have wanted this…"
A swallow of rum caught in Hooks throat and he chocked violently. "DON'T YOU DARE!" he sputtered, face red as an apple eyes bloodshot. He stood up quickly, swiping at his longest friend with his prosthetic. The quartermaster dodged out of the way, placing some distance between them.
"I only thought…"
"Get out…" His voice was deadly, and although it was a mere whisper Smee flinched as if being struck.
"Captain…I'll always be here. No matter what." With that he left him, his head stinging and his ears ringing.
Killian blanched. Although he was annoyed at the stupid little git, Smee was right. He was no longer the man the crew had agreed to follow. Was he even a man? or was he more like the crocodile? He slammed down more rum before moving to and collapsing on the bed.
Maybe, he could get everything he wanted, but through different means. He scowled into his sheets, magic always came with a price, and he certainly didn't want to pay it for anyone.
Emma. A smirk grew on his face, as he pieced it together. All he needed to do was get Emma Swan to trust him. Her voice spun in his head, I'd rather die. He snickered. He just needed to get the information from her. Then she could get back to Henry, he could get his revenge, and they could part ways.
No. His face hardened. Once he got the towns name, he would leave her. Give her passage to the next patch of land they found, and that was all. Just like she would do to him, correction had done. No special treatment for Miss Swan.
Sighing he realized she wasn't going to tell him anything. At least not down in the brig bleeding to death. His stomach clenched. He had turned his back and walked away. A growl escaped him, if the tables were turned she would have done the same.
"Remember Killian, use her and move on, just like the others." With a new plan formatted, he sat up. One more large sip of rum encouraged him to make his way back to the Hold.
He prayed with each step, that she hadn't woken. Knowing her she would request to be left down there, rather than accept his help. With good reason too.For the first time in centuries he felt anxious. Each pace filled with dread, how would he explain how he had to mull over the notion of helping her? Or that he practically gave Cora the rights to torture her? Would she even believe him?
As he rounded the mast step, his questions faded away. She was no different then before, except the blood had dried and appeared more brown than red.
Creeping close, he prodded at her with his hook. Jumping out of arms reach in case of a reaction. Nothing. Sighing, he set to work unlatching the manacles, while wrapping one arm around her waist to prevent her from toppling over. She was light, even in dead weight. Finally when she was free he scooped her up bridal style and began his ascent anew.
"Mr. Smee!" The quarter master was at his side within seconds, saluting him as he awaited orders. "Fetch me some wraps and some cold water. We have a damsel to take care of, until of course she comes too….then we have a lion to tame." The last bit was more to himself as he looked down at the girl in his arms.
"Aye aye Captain." The man didn't move, taking in the scene of his master holding the woman moments ago he had no intention of helping. A ghost of a smile forming on his lips.
"Did I stutter Mr. Smee!" Hook reprehended.
Smee quickly ran off to collect the items requested. The rest of the crew continued with their work, not daring to comment, but as Hook marched towards his quarters he caught the smiles and could feel the excitement rise. He was back. For the first time in a long time he was Captain of the Jolly Roger. And this time no one is going to tell me, how to run my ship.
The door was easily kicked open, and the familiar sights of his quarters greeted him the last lick of the sun now casting a dark purple hue. Pushing the beds drapes aside, he gently eased the swans body down.
"Now Lass, this is usually where I would ravish you. But, I prefer my woman alert. Maybe another time." He chuckled at his own joke knowing if she was awake she would punch him.
Mr. Smee walked in moments later holding a wash basin, clean cloths, and a small medical box. He glanced over Emma, before he silently placed the items at the foot of the bed.
"Anything else Captain?"
"Yes…Set sail, and head to the Marlton Rift. I want to get their in less than a weeks time." Hook jumped to his feet, grabbing a map case off one of the shelves. Thrusting it into the Quartermasters hands. "Is this a problem Mr. Smee?" The place he had requested was terrifying, and he honestly didn't blame his first mates appalled look.
"No sir, but, t-t-the fairy realm?"
Hook merely nodded.
"Aye aye Captain. What of the device sir?"
"Toss it over board, we have no need of that woman anymore. Without it she can't easily trace us."
"Yes sir." With that Smee rearranged his red cap, took a deep breath and headed out to face the crew. They would be happy to get ride of Cora, but not excited about Marlton.
Unfortunately, it was one of the only places they could take refuge, but the dangers sometimes outweighed the aid. A small moan came from the other side of the room, she was stirring. He gulped. Would they live to even see the other realm?
"Graham…." Her voice was soft, and tender. The name rolled lovingly off her tongue, and a soft smile graced her lips. Dreams were such wonderful things, he wished he still had them. Hook closed the distance between them, settling in on the edge of the bed before brushing a hand over her forehead. He couldn't help but smile when her head moved into his touch and a sigh escaped her.
A fever had began, he scowled. Her temperature was to high, he grabbed the bucket quickly submerging one of the cloths into the freezing water. Magical after effects were always different. The bath would be a quicker method, but death was a certain outcome if she caught him removing her clothes. Instead he opted for a time old method, gently running the cloth along her arms and neck. Her chest rose and fell with each breath and he willed himself to tear his eyes away.
Concern etched his brow as he reached her wrists. They were raw and scabbed from the iron cuffs. Bit by bit he scrubbed off the blood, sucking in a breath every time her body tensed. Eyeing the bottle of rum, he decided to not disinfect them yet. He was enjoying not having a fight.
"Graham…" once again the name was whispered. A tinge of jealousy reared its ugly head. What little he knew of her came to mind, she had to have a lover back home.
"Usually lass, I'd prefer my name being called out…" He winked at her, "I'll let it slid this once." It was silly to talk to her while she was unconscious, but it helped disperse the silence. Leaning over her to wipe her face was his final task. God she was beautiful.
Smiling at his handy work he finished tossing the rag back in the bucket. In whatever dream world she was in, she looked at peace, and he was not going to disturb that.
Turning his attention back to the room he sighed, now what? Eyeing the gun on the table, he jumped to his feet. She was not to have her other world possessions, he had learned their trickery once. Afraid of her stirring he grabbed the most deadly. The gun, knife and handcuffs. He tossed the first two into his pockets, the last one was a second away from the fireplace when she stirred. Begrudgingly he shoved them in with the others.
"Why are you here?" Her eyes had sprung open, liquid ice meeting perfectly cut emerald. She was trying to sit up, to talk with him, but Hook couldn't allow that. In two quick steps he was once again next to her gently pushing her body against the mattress.
"Shhh...You need to rest Emma." It was more a whisper than a demand. Hoping to convince her of no harm he lifted his hands in defeat, but quickly dropped them. Her eyes were foggy, like she was a thousands realms away.
A small smile played on her lips, and a gentle laugh escaped. He had never seen this side of her before. Shaking her golden locks she continued, "I just wanted to know why you're here?" One of her hands raised level to his cheek, gently caressing the skin. Small soothing strokes, the other hand had reached up and folded into the collar of his shirt. Her expression shifted, one he knew, self loathing and guilt.
"You were right...Oh god Graham. You were right!" Killians mind reeled back. Trying to absorb her words. Cora did say that she was from the enchanted forest, maybe this was when the curse hit. Or after their savior broke it? He was so lost in thought he didn't have time to stop the blonde goddess from yanking on his collar and pulling him down on top of her.
"Emma…" .
She licked her lips in a innocent way, while looking down at his. Red flags were shooting up, but he was so transfixed he could do nothing.
"I know your not real…but...I miss you." Her voice was a mere whisper. Her body shivered under him. The smile she wore was enough to quicken his heart. She wrapped one arm behind his neck, letting it run through his short locks. There was such little distance left between them. He could feel her chest rise and fall, her heart pounding against his. Killians breath hitched in the back of his throat as she closed the gap.
Her lips were soft like satin, and his body reacted, his arms moved of their own accord one wrapping behind her back and pulling her closer, the other one trailing up her side. She deepened the kiss growing more confident, more demanding. The warmth spreading over and through him, causing his breathing to quicken and his lust to grow. She was turning his world upside down. His mouth froze and he pulled away, pushing Emma back into her pillow. This was not meant for him.
She looked miserable as if she didn't understand why he didn't want this too.
"Emma love, I'm sorry…I…" An ashamed feeling washed over him.
"I'm sorry...I...I couldn't save you." He scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, before glancing back at her. She was still picturing someone else. What did she mean she couldn't save him? From the curse? He received the answer soon enough, as one hand reached out gently touching his chest where his heart was.
"I couldn't..." Her voice hitched in her throat, and she shook her head helping herself to push back the tears. He knew what had happened without her telling him. He had done the same thing to Milah when the crocodile had left. Just sat there putting his hand on her chest, apologizing for all he couldn't do.
"Emma…you need to sleep." Reality hit him hard. He was stealing from her, something she most likely didn't share. You are a Pirate...all's fair in love and war. Rougher than he intended he jerked the covers over her trapping her in.
He needed to get the hell out of here, out of this cabin and away from his hormones.
It was an accident, that was all. Nothing was meant by any of it. Emma Swan was nothing more than a pawn in his game. Stomping to the door he ripped it open with one last glance back he slammed it shut. He had to leave everything behind. Any desire he had towards this woman was nothing more than a means to an end.
