Chapter 5

The Deal with the Devil

It's not poison! They told us it wasn't, remember? Here! I'll prove it to you!" Thorns claw at his tanned skin as another hand, his brother's, tries to swat the plant away, but it is too late.

"No! Stop! You don't know what you're doing!" Black lines trail visibly through his veins, spreading quickly, too quickly. The older of the two falls to his knees as his companion barely catches him, cradling him desperately.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," the younger boy yells, begging and pleading for his brother to wake up. Why isn't he waking up?

Killian jerks from his dream , a cold sweat on his face, his body trembling . He shakes his head in a feeble effort to clear his mind of the day in his dream, the worst day of his life. He'd give his left hand to be able to go back, to be able to change the course of his life from that day.

"Sleep well, Jones?" sneers a voice, making him jump in surprise.

"Swan," he murmurs, noticing her green eyes glowing eerily in the darkness of the cabin. She reminds him of a cat stalking her prey. "Wha-what are you doing here?" he stutters. A woman isn't to be in a man's cabin after hour. It isn't good form. That's something he learned from the Captain, not him.

He would laugh at that advice, saying that if a woman chose to grace you with her presence, no matter the hour, you had to do the gentlemanly thing and give her what she desired.

The Captain once beat a man within an inch of his life for daring to conduct his disgraceful activities on the Jewel, even though the lass was the man's fiancée. In all honesty, Killian thought the Captain just desired the woman, and hid his jealousy behind his code of honor.

Swan chuckles, shifting from her chair. "Just making sure you aren't dying from all the screaming I heard. What's wrong, Jones? Nightmare?" she teases. She is trying for humor, he can tell. It isn't her fault that her words hit a nerve, making Killian tense.

He knows why he was screaming. He was watching…he shudders.

"And is that any of your business?" he snaps, harsher than he intends. Killian blames his frazzled nerves on the previous night's events, those and his nightmare. "Since I mean nothing to you? Since I'm just one of the tools under your belt?" He hopes she doesn't notice the way that came out, the way his cheeks flush. Killian was insulted by her words, hoping that his daring rescue had earned him at least a little credit.

But Swan is smirking the way only she can, the way she does when she's enjoying making him uncomfortable.

"But you're my favorite ," she teases. "A girl can have a favorite, can't she?"

He doesn't reply, instead turning to grab a change of clothes from ontop of the drawers. He felt on edge even being here, let alone keeping his things here. The instant he arrived back in the cabin the night before, he collapsed into bed, trying to ward off the emptiness he felt when the maiden took his heart and the terrifying cold that still lingered. He's never experienced anything so exhausting.

"Perhaps, but not if she continues to treat people like tools," he shoots back. "Eventually, Swan, you're going to have to learn how to trust people, to let them know that you don't see them as things, but as people."

"You seem to know a lot about trust, Killian. So tell me, how do you know that someone won't break it?" she asks with an edge. "All my life I've learned that love, trust , it's all a means to an end. It's not real, its weakness ."

He takes a step toward her.

"Aye, in the wrong hands it is. But in the right hands, it's quite the opposite," he explains. After all, someone had to, and she literally held his heart in her hands the day before. That earned him a little leeway to speak his mind, didn't it?

"Tell me, Swan, have you ever been in love?"

When everything feels right, when you feel so entirely open with another person that you feel nothing but glee, when the darkness fades and light takes its place. It was what he had with Milah, even though he never told her, not once. He wanted to wait, wait until they were free of their pasts, their mistakes. But he never got to tell her. It's the second biggest regret of his life.

"No," she says, turning away, her eyes like stone. "I've never been in love." She storms out of the room without another word.

He suspects this time it was his turn to hit a nerve unknowingly.

Killian sighs. He really thought he had made at least a bit of progress at seeing beneath the dark feathers to the woman beneath.

"Let's go, Jones!" she calls, making him jump and rush after her.

"Yes, Swan," he drones. "Whatever you say, Swan." He doesn't bother to mask his own frustration at her constant mood swings.

"Is she being all moody as usual?" chirps a voice. Her voice makes him jump in surprise. He sees the Ice Witch once they reach the deck, casually sitting in a newly-conjured ice chair.

He remembered feeling the power in her voice when she held his heart, ordering him around, the feeling of her cold fingers in his chest, the inability to make a sound or resist her words. The utter hate he felt at revealing pieces of his soul to both Swan and this witch. He had no desire to tell either of them about sailing with Liam, but he was ordered to make Swan relax. As much as he resisted, he had no choice in the matter.

Her orders left no room for compromise.

"What's she doing here?" he growls. He hadn't appreciated being turned into a hostage on his own ship – no, the Captain's ship, but he had more ownership of it than either of them.

"What's wrong, Jones? I did as you asked, kept her alive. I thought you'd be happy with that," Swan sneers as she sits in her own self-created chair, a black-feathered seat, fitting for the Dark Swan.

He shoots a hateful look at Elsa. He didn't want anyone to die, but he certainly hadn't wanted her to stick around.

He can only deal with one dangerous blonde at a time.

"I'd prefer if she didn't stay on the Jewel," he mutters, taking his position at the helm. Elsa blinks seductively, making him blush. "And if she must, can't she stay in the brig or something?"

Swan chuckles. "As much as I'd love to stick Frosty over here in the brig, sadly her royal upbringing would be outraged enough to cause us nasty issues."

"I'd sooo kill you," Elsa says with a dark giggle.

"Hate ya," Swan replies.

"Likewise sis," Elsa retorts.

"We came to an arrangement," Swan continues her explanation to Killian after her juvenile moment with Elsa. "We're heading to Arendelle's magical prison to rescue an old friend of mine."

He raises his eyebrow. He didn't remember the Dark One having any friends in the tales he learned in his youth.

"Are we?" he challenges. "How exactly do you plan to get there?" He looks between them, Killian doesn't understand magic, but he suspects even the Dark One's magic has it's limits.

He certainly can't afford to keep the ship much longer. He is already in a world of trouble. "My captain will get back to port any day now. I need to return the Jewel before he arrives."

Elsa giggles. "Ooh. We're on a stolen ship? What fun!"

Swan just rolls her eyes.

"What's to stop us from just locking you up in the brig? Or better yet, throwing you overboard?" Elsa sneers.

Killian takes in a breath, wondering what the chances are that Elsa would carry out her threats. He doesn't like the odds.

"Find yourself in a pickle Killian? Stand tall, don't back down, and prove your worth. People are selfish creatures, make it seem like it's in their own best interest to keep you around."

His words sprout in Killian's head. He swallows his fear and brightens his grin.

"Can either of you lasses sail a ship? Navigate through Arendelle's treacherous current?" he asks. Killian doesn't need to see their exchange of glances to know those answers. "Lock me in the brig if you like. I have no royal honor to appease. I'll go there without hassle, but I'd like to know I won't be resigning myself to death if I do."

Swan sighs. "You said you had some unrealistic motive for rescuing me. Tell me, do you want to make someone fall in love with you?" she asks.

He shakes his head.

"Do you want to bring someone back from the dead?"

Again, he shakes his head. What was she getting at?

"Or how about change the past?"

He shakes his head one more time.

"Anything apart from those three things is doable with some creativity. I'll promise to grant you one request if you help me with this," she vows.

Killian debates with himself, but knows there is really no question. He saw how powerful she was, how powerful her magic was. If she couldn't do it, no one could. He will do anything to fulfill his mission.

Anything.

"Alright," He replied gravely. "I need –."

She put her hand up to cut him off.

"After. My curse makes me keep my end of any deals I make. Once we finish this rescue mission, you can make your request. Besides, you could always change your mind."

Killian nods, glad to have the time to think out his words carefully. He knows that he would never waver on the request itself, but plenty of tales about the Dark One warn about her penchant for exploiting loopholes in clumsy requests.

"So how far away are we?" Elsa questions, breaking through his thoughts.

"I'll need to consult one of the maps," he replies, earning an eye roll from Swan.

"Please," she moans. "I looked at your captain's maps. None of them are even remotely accurate."

That makes Killian laugh. It's the first time he's heard anyone state this fact, something he realized instantly when he first saw them.

The Captain was never very good at keeping accurate notes of his journeys or of buying newer, more accurate maps. He relied on his 'gut instinct' that was always leading him astray. It was a miracle the ship got anywhere at all, a miracle and the small fact that his first mate's fiancée was a mermaid who often swayed the tides to their favor.

"Ah, but you've never seen my maps, " he counters in a rare bit of triumph. She raises a brow as he disappears into the supply quarters. He pries open a box in the back of the room that is hidden along with most of his other possessions.

He prides himself on keeping the best collection of maps in the realm, even if no one but he ever saw them. He looks up to see Swan watching him. Until now.

Swan stays quiet as he nimbly searches through the stack of maps, looking for the relevant one. She moves a bit closer as he flips through them.

"You collect maps?" she asks. "These are incredible!"

Killian nods, glancing between the maps and Swan's face with pride. There are dozens of maps, different seas, different realms, different angles. If a place touches the sea, he has a map for it.

"Since I was a boy. I made some after sneaking glances at them at markets where I couldn't afford to buy the real thing, but I assure you, love, they are nothing if not accurate," he proclaims as she lifts a map of Camelot out of the pile. That one entailed sneaking back to the market several times, nearly getting caught by the seller on more than one occasion. It was worth it, if only for this moment. He can tell she is impressed.

"I didn't know you were a fan of cartography," he says.

Swan shrugs. "Being the Dark One means I have to be knowledgeable about a lot of things, including where I'm going," she says vaguely. "But I wish I knew more about it, about making something so beautiful with what I know." She is holding his map of Wonderland. How she knows it's one he made, he doesn't know.

His next words slip out before he can stop them. "Perhaps I could teach you."

She smiles back. "Perhaps."

He grins as he pulls his gaze away, flushing at the tease in her voice. The very thought that he could teach her anything is astounding.

Then he feels the parchment he was searching for in his hands. "Now this one, this one is one of my favorites. Arendelle's oceans are littered with icebergs, deadly obstacles for any ship," he explains, showing her the map marked with a blue star. "This one is enchanted to sense all things in the sea, from iceberg to sailboat, allowing us to chart a flawless course through them all." He bought it from a gypsy last time they docked in Arendelle. It cost him nearly a month's pay and punishment from his controlling captain when several crewmembers caught him buying it, but it was worth the price.

"Where's this one from?" Emma asks, pulling out an old piece of parchment. He avoids her eyes. He knows exactly what peaked her curiosity. "It's just a bunch of arrows and notes," she observes, flipping the parchment back and forth. "It's not even enchanted."

He sees her fingers rubbing the faded notes, and he snatches it back harshly, making sure the notes are still legible with a sigh of relief. It is his most prized possession, and he doesn't know what he would do if his swirly handwriting was lost to the abyss of time.

"This," he says, filing it back neatly where it belongs, "is a part of my request which you don't want to hear yet."

The Dark One rolls her eyes. "Sailor's getting brave," she teases.

"I'd call it stubborn," he shoots back.

"So, how far away are we?" she asks, reminding him why they were down here in the first place. He analyzes the enchanted map, recalling the course he set the day before, tracing it with his finger, considering their placement based on the previous night's stars.

"The day after tomorrow, I believe," he replies, stowing his map collection and leading Swan back topside so he can make some adjustments to the sails. "I'll be able to give a more accurate arrival time once we hit nightfall and I can see the stars."

She nods simply, a smirk finding its place on her lips. "Good. That should be just enough time to teach you how to handle a sword."

Killian freezes. "What?!"

She laughs.

"You didn't think you were going to wait on the ship, did you?"

Killian had surely hoped so…

The response I'm getting for this is amazing.

I'm so appreciative of all the support I'm receiving through follows, favs and reviews. Its incredible!

8/23/17: Beta read by notoriouscs

~Luna