AN: alohaaa friends!
As you've probably noticed, I didn't get round to posting an AN on my first two uploads, hence why I'm doing it now.
Just a few things – this is my first fanfic, so while I appreciate the constructive criticism (seriously, keep it coming), don't be too harsh hahaha.
Hopefully I answered some of your questions in this chapter, although it's probably replaced them with new ones….
Also, I've been writing Hook under the assumption that he has blue eyes, which, under closer inspection, turn out to be more green than anything – so apologies if I offended anyone with that.
And lastly, thankyou so much to anyone who reviewed/followed and especially favourited. It's really nice to know that people appreciate your hard work :)
And for anyone who can't get enough of Captain Swan from my writing, you should be aware that the last two episode of ouat have been titled with references to the peter pan novel and, by extension, Hook. WOOOOOOOO! GET KEEN!
Oh, and enjoyyyyy xxxxxxxx
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From head to toe, Cora epitomised the very notion of an evil queen.
Garbed entirely in some kind of midnight ink material with all the proper gatherings and furnishings for a woman of her title, Emma thought the dark colour could not have been more appropriate to reflect her regal and, yet, mysterious, devious nature. She was like one of those deceptively innocent flowers, which lured in their unassuming prey only to trap them when they landed on inviting petals. And indeed, Cora was worse; she didn't just devour them, she took their hearts and kept them as trophies of her conquests, saving them for a time when she needed a pawn to carry out her work, and then discarding them just as easily when they'd paid their worth or posed no further advantages. Like she taught her daughter, Emma thought resentfully, a huntsman trespassing across her mind. She didn't know much about Cora, but if she was anything like her offspring, the only way to deal with her was to keep from playing her games.
"Well, I dare say, I seem to be interrupting something" she continued, her voice rising at the end in question, prompting an explanation. Though her tone had been friendly, playful even, no one in the room was fooled by the fact that she wasn't giving them the option. Emma and Hook remained silent, separating a few steps and avoiding each other's eyes. Suspicion coursed through Emma, instantly putting her defences up – something was off about Cora's almost… happy? expression.
"Just being a gentleman is all, love" she heard Hook say. Nothing about his stance or the tone of his voice suggested he thought of her as 'love', though.
"Oh, Captain," she chuckled in amusement, "Don't fool yourself; I doubt you even know the meaning of the word." The condescension in her voice was like a fourth entity in the room, provoking narrowed eyes from Hook.
Already sick of the sight of her, Emma got straight to the point. "Why are we here?" she said sternly. With folded arms and a steely expression, she watched as Cora's attention turned to her and the smile became infinitesimally smaller.
"You're here because I need you to be" she replied calmly, but in a way that feigned confusion, like it should have been so obvious to them.
Emma snorted derisively and glanced at Hook, who – with his lips slightly parted in recognition – looked as if he'd just remembered something that now made sense, or connected the dots between two memories. While he remained in thought, no doubt forming a plan in his mind, she addressed Cora again, not interested in waiting around for her to make use of them when she so desired.
"Lady, if you think that I'm going to do anything for you, you better think again." Her lips instinctively quirked up at one end and her stance became more confident as soon as the words were spoken, like they'd just lent her the extra mental resilience she needed. She'd dealt with Cora's kind before (or similar, because even Regina and Rumple held redeemable features, where she didn't) and thus felt comfortable in her ability to hold her own ground against such magical forces. Plus, in light of recent events – events that she'd withheld from Hook's little interrogation session – Emma felt more than assured in the limitations she presented for someone of Cora's… specific talent. For the most part, she'd told Hook the truth of what'd transpired at the castle where the ashes remained, but there was something she'd deliberately missed out…
It was impossible.
They weren't going to win; not if everything they did continued to be thwarted by Cora, as it was being now. Even with Mulan's magical deflection sword, Mary Margaret's impeccable aim and her own perfectly-timed parries, it still felt as though they were battling a small army; scratch that – a small magic-wielding army. Outmatched in every aspect by spells Cora had mastered presumably before any of them had even lived, Emma felt herself instinctively glance over at her mother, taking note of the desperation which increased in presence for every arrow Cora blocked. She couldn't process it for long, though, before she had to jump out of the way, narrowly missing a fireball thrown in her direction.
She jumped up, preparing to receive a consecutive blow, but instead watched as Cora directed another spell, this time at Mulan who, taken by surprise, ducked rather than blocking the incantation with her sword and then observed on in horror as it sped towards an unarmed and undefended Aurora standing behind.
Aurora's eyes widened in surprise, her mouth forming a perfect 'O' as the fire connected with her stomach and she was flung violently against the wall. There was a sickening crack and a sharp intake of air that, for a moment, was the only thing that could be heard; the battle falling silent. Aurora's eyes rolled up and her lids closed, slumping down into an unconscious – maybe lifeless – position. Mulan screamed, and in that instant, three things became very clear between Mary Margaret and herself as they traded glances:
The first; with Mulan distracted by Aurora, there was no way the two of them could hope to defend themselves against Cora.
The second; if Cora got the compass, who knows what kind of hell she'd raise back at Storybrooke – an unsuspecting town lying in wait.
The third; ….. They still had the compass.
Charged with energy and seeing no other option to their current predicament, Emma nodded in stiff agreement; in unspoken recognition of the step that they had no choice but to take for the sake of their loved ones – for the sake of Henry. A determined expression settled on Mary Margaret's face once again as she made towards a preoccupied Mulan, not wasting any time to see if Cora had put together their plan, or even noticed what they were doing. Shoving Mulan aside and simultaneously disarming her to obtain the sword made impenetrable by magic, Mary Margaret looked over at Emma in indication of readiness, fully aware that Cora's attention was now on them, realisation dawning on her face. The next second that passed truly played out as if in slow mode:
Emma, with sweat dripping down her temples, threw the compass to Mary Margaret. Her heartbeat slowed in fear and anticipation as she gazed upon the watch-like object soaring through empty space. In the background, she was distantly aware of Cora shouting and navy blue arrow-like sparks penetrating through the air before them, just missing their target. An achingly long moment later, and yet impossibly sooner than expected, the compass arrived in Mary Margaret's hand, and in one stroke, she brought the sword she'd held above her head down onto the metal circle below.
Magic collided with magic and light illuminated the room as the tip pierced the compass face and appeared through the underside. Immediately, time started moving at normal speed again, reality simultaneously hit them like a karmic tonne of bricks. They may have won the battle, but they'd just lost the war, because now they had Cora to deal with who, they realised, had become dangerously silent. Emma's heart lurched, her stomach jumping into her throat as her muscles locked down, immobilised by some invisible force. It was as if she could no longer access the energy she possessed; or rather, she could feel it as it tensed her muscles, but could not control it – strangely like trying to grasp at water while it continued to slip through her fingers. In her periphery, she could see Mary Margaret experiencing the same sensations, fear registering in her eyes. At once, they rose up, arms spreading out like wings as a faint navy glow started to surround them, now suspended in mid-air.
Cora walked forward slowly.
"You just did the one thing to ensure certain death" she spoke calmly, the look in her eye a perfect contradiction of her composed voice; hot death boiling just beneath the surface, held back by a thin veil of carefully maintained self-control.
"For what you have just done, I have no choice but to kill you," she went on, almost shrugging as she reaffirmed the pain she was going to put them through. Emma was silently gratefully that they had spared Storybrooke from Cora's wrath at that point. She watched as the Queen's attention turned to Mary Margaret then, the veil slipping, not bothering to conceal her unbridled rage and hatred for her – "You, my dear girl" she began more forcefully, "I will save for last."
With that said, she turned back to Emma, who could do nothing but look at Mary Margaret from the corner of her eyes in reassurance, hoping to convey the acceptance she felt in the face of her forthcoming demise. At least Henry was safe.
She closed her eyes, waiting to feel Cora's hand enter her chest.
But nothing happened; no pain was felt.
Opening her eyes in confusion, Emma was more than just a little surprised to find that Cora's hand was indeed inserted in her chest, but was not coming out with her heart in tow, much to the incessant pulling. Becoming increasingly frustrated, the Queen tugged harder and looked up at her in disbelief, anger taking on a whole new meaning as she let out an enraged scream.
Emma couldn't smile, but she knew her eyes were doing it for her. The relieved, shocked feeling disappeared immediately though as Cora recovered – albeit still in shock – and took a calculated step back, like she'd just resolved herself towards carrying out something much, much worse. She flicked her wrist and Emma felt herself yanked from the torso towards the wall beside her in the direction of the hand movement. Everything went black.
The memory dissolved as quickly as it had been triggered by her thoughts, and Emma was once again back in the present, focussing on Cora, still wearing the same blank expression. She's probably a genius at poker, Emma thought. When she's not failing at pulling people's hearts out, she amended smugly.
"We shall see", Cora said in return to her earlier statement. Though it stood just a minute ago that she'd been internally declaring her confidence, the tone of Cora's reply didn't fail to lessen her smile a little. And she seemed to notice, because at the flicker of concern which crossed Emma's face, her smile grew once again, pleased at having shaken her – as much as it was possible to shake someone of Emma's resilience.
"In the meantime", Cora began, already disinterested in her, "I'll be needing to speak to you, Captain."
If Hook had been expecting anything, it certainly wasn't that. Emma watched as he straightened up, suddenly wary and instantly suspicious, just as she would've been if put in his place. He looked from Cora over to her, mouth in a straight line and questions in his eyes; the same questions mirrored in her own. There was something else there as well; almost as if, in that moment, he was grappling with whom to trust – the girl who'd double crossed him, or the queen who'd literally stolen his heart. Usually good at reading people, Emma was frustrated by his now indecipherable expression. She could tell he'd made up his mind, but was intentionally keeping his choice ambiguous – and was he doing so to protect her from Cora? Or was it in order to make her feel falsely safe, only to then sweep the rug from under her feet at the last minute; betray her? He'd promised to help her find her mother, but she'd never heard of a pirate keeping their word. Hook turned back to Cora, fuelling Emma's uncertainty.
"Well, I suppose it would be rude to refuse a Queen, so…" he broke off momentarily, a fake smile settling on his face as he gestured towards the door with his hand, "… ladies first", he finished, his tone dropping, his expression instantly hard again, like he was deliberately flipping off social courtesy. Emma understood that he was by no means consenting on behalf of fear, but rather tactically choosing to follow her so that he might be able to uncover her plan, or even just procure answers.
Cora smiled pleasantly, whipping around and making towards the door as Hook followed suit without acknowledging Emma. But as he reached the door, Cora already gone, he looked over his shoulder at her one last time. Initially unreadable, his expression altered and became one resembling regret. There was a slight sadness to the lines of his face, and Emma caught herself thinking that it didn't suit him.
That was it then; he'd chosen Cora. It was the first time all night that she truly felt like crying.
He stepped over the threshold and shut the door.
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He hated that; hated himself for letting her think his allegiance was with Cora. Swan hadn't even bothered with pleading or trying to change his decision, and that was the worst part. The hopeless look in her eye as her mouth formed a straight line, ever the lost child who'd built walls up to surround herself, was an image he'd sooner like to forget. He would still hold true to his promise of helping the lass find her mother, but, in all honesty, he'd made up his mind to trust neither of them seconds after Cora had requested to speak with him. Because, while having your heart stolen far outweighed being double crossed on the scale of irredeemable actions, the only person who'd yet to fail him was himself. And it was a tactical move, he reassured himself, which couldn't be disputed no matter how much he regretted putting Emma in that position.
He trudged along behind Cora, staring daggers into her back.
"Where are my crew?" he questioned icily.
"They've been taken care of." Her tone was polite, as if it was a comforting answer.
There was a tense moment's silence as they both anticipated the next question. When he spoke again, it was with barely concealed hatred. "And my heart?"
By now, they'd reached the top deck, and Hook noticed resentfully that she'd made additional furnishings to the railings and such.
"It's in a safe place", she breathed, turning to him with one hand placed on top of the other.
"No doubt guarded by magic", Hook muttered angrily, glaring at her from beneath low eyelids and then looking away, but not before witnessing her smile widen in sick enjoyment.
"Don't lose hope, my dear captain!" she cooed condescendingly. "Just co-operate with my requests, and you shall have your heart back in no time." Hook almost laughed; the tone of her voice suggested she genuinely believed that he would feel instantly reassured. As it were, he did allow a disbelieving laugh to escape.
"And why should I trust you? Forgive me darling, but taking one's heart doesn't usually inspire feelings of faith."
"You should trust me because you have no choice", Cora countered, raising her eyebrows and blinking innocently.
Hook narrowed his eyes and shifted on his feet. "Oooh, and how do you figure that?" he returned, hearing the threat and taking a deliberate step closer.
She held eye contact with him, showing no traces of fear. And it was then that he felt the empty space where his heart had been burn with a searing pain, as if someone had taken a blow torch to it. He clutched his chest, letting out an aching groan and falling to his knees. Impossible – she isn't even holding my heart! Through bared teeth, he somehow managed to yell at her to stop, but was met by a mirthless laugh instead.
"Amazing, isn't it? That I can now crush one's heart without having to physically hold it", she began wonderingly, and went on: "It's a spell I recently mastered: you have to already possess the heart, of course, but once you have it, you can squeeze the life out of the person anytime, anywhere, without it having to be in your company." She drew out the words, emphasising each one of them in a gleeful tone; wholly excited by the possibilities the new incantation presented, as Hook continued to endure through the pain, not really listening.
After a moment of enjoying the prospects, the torture abruptly ceased, her hand unclenching around the invisible heart. Then, sighing: "I think I've made my point", she said down to him, still panting and on his knees as he massaged his chest.
Eventually, he got to his feet and levelled with her once more, mentally sharpening his hook. He wanted to say something; wanted to threaten her or refuse to play along with her plan – anything that would hinder her efforts in retaliation for what she'd done to him. But the unbearable feeling of the fire that had raged like an inferno in his chest, spreading through his veins and eventually engulfing every cell, every bone in the empty space that remained, kept him silent; the words caught in his throat. Instead, he settled to glare at her with an anger so ferocious, it was a wonder she didn't wither up and die right then and there.
Cora, unfazed and deducing her victory, inhaled and began again: "Now that the consequences have been established, we can begin the information part of our little discussion."
Hook remained passive, deciding that he would no longer divulge his feelings and give her the satisfaction of seeing him uncomfortable. He had taken a blow to his ego tonight; first, from Emma when she'd been the one – instead of him – to interrupt the kiss they'd both wanted, and second, from the woman standing before him, for reasons that were self-explanatory.
"I need you to gain the Swan girl's trust", Cora continued without hesitation.
"What?!" he spat, immediately throwing the promise he'd just made to himself out the door, and regarding her incredulously.
"Oh I'm sorry, do I need to repeat myself?" she delivered sarcastically.
Hook did a double take. That was definitely not what he was expecting; in fact, it was such an unbelievable request that she may as well have asked him to sort out his differences with the crocodile over a nice cup of tea. As he gradually began to register what she'd said though, another realisation dawned on him; one that gave him the hope that he may not have to serve her after all.
"It won't work", he said confidently, watching her eyebrows raise, her interest piqued.
"And why should it not?" she queried pleasantly.
"For a number of reasons, actually," he began, his stance relaxing, an air of arrogance returning. "All of which make it near impossible to win her over."
Cora smiled, perhaps having anticipated some kind of buffer from him, but gesturing nevertheless for him to continue.
"Well, for one, Emma has – as she puts it – a 'special talent' that allows her to almost always detect when someone is lying" he spoke mockingly. "She'll see right through the lines you give me to feed her," he finished triumphantly, folding his arms.
"Oh, I don't think that will be a problem", she countered, unconcerned with the argument he was presenting.
Hook's confidence began to waver ever so slightly, but he went on: "And then there's the problem of her trust issues – doesn't like me, that young lass; I remind her too much of one of her past lovers", he concluded matter-of-factly, shrugging as he feigned regret.
"Still, it shouldn't be too difficult for you to manage…", she trailed off and leant in intimidatingly, before going on: "not without the proper motivation." Her smile extended into a grin, displaying gleaming white teeth. Hook could almost see her thoughts as she envisioned squeezing his heart.
"Fine," he said angrily, his bravado significantly depleted and his expression hardening as he debated whether or not to divulge this last reason, when it would almost assuredly earn her wrath again. Throwing caution to the wind, he decided to put all his faith in a last ditch effort to avoid manipulating the Swan girl. "There's one more thing – " he paused for emphasis. "It'll never work because," he inhaled, "she knows you have my heart. She figured it out", he finished lamely, shrugging. He didn't need to go on; they both understood that Emma could never trust anything he said – and not just on a hunch, but legitimately – because Cora could be speaking for him.
Cora's grin dropped and almost fell onto Hook's face, a flicker of hope brightening within him. Moments passed as Hook waited for her reply, never taking his eyes off her as she turned away from him, deep in thought, finding ways to overcome the issue. After a while, she stopped dead in her tracks and let out a relieved laugh. Damn, he thought. Sorry Emma.
"It's simple", she began, turning back to him. "You will tell her I gave it back. There'll need to be physical evidence, of course, which I can provide, and an explanation too." Vaguely aware of Cora telling him what to say, Hook's heart sunk in his chest as Emma's hopeless face came to mind; the one he wasn't supposed to see before he'd left her alone in the room. He couldn't help it – he liked her. Liked her in the way that made him want to be close to her, press his body against hers, and hate himself all over again for the likely effect his betrayal would have on her, and – worse still – that he would be the one to inflict it.
"You are excused", Cora spoke, shattering his thoughts.
He turned around blankly, not interested in spending another minute in her presence. Taking his heart was one thing; using it to then manipulate him to do her dirty work was something else entirely.
"Wait", he blurted out mid-turn, his thoughts speaking for him again. "Why? Why have me do this?" he questioned without missing a beat.
She smiled at him, and it almost seemed genuine. Her hands rested on her skirt in their typical position on top of each other when she spoke again:
"All will be revealed in good time, my dear Captain", she replied ominously, deliberately remaining ambiguous.
Hook made towards the door again, knowing that he wasn't going to get any more out of her for the time being. He felt her eyes on his back as he crossed the threshold into the corridor, wondering – no, doubting – how he was ever going to make Emma Swan trust him.
"Shit", he muttered under his breath.