Starkey was the only crew member Hook had left on deck. Having steered the ship for centuries in Neverland, it was very nearly a part of him. Spinning the wheel on instinct, there was no doubt that he would soon steer them clear of this storm, and they would resume their journey to Violet Hill.

His single minded focus was disturbed the moment he could see the little lad, Emmett, shimmying down the ladder. Starkey could not reach him from his position, and the boy needed to get under deck now.

To his immense horror, his eyes were drawn to the boom of the main mast. Even though his vision was heavily obscured by the sheets of rain, it was clear that it would hit Emmett.

"DUCK, EMMETT!"

Time slowed. He watched with horror as it landed a blow to the side of the man's torso.

But there was no longer a man.

Flying through the air in a hauntingly graceful arc was "Emmett", and with the face to match the name revealed as well as a streak of golden curls, Starkey realized that there had never been a man named Emmett on board. The figure descended and hit the far end of the deck with a loud thump, and was knocked unconscious.

Holy hell. Holy fucking hell. He's a she.

Who the hell is she?

Starkey longed to leave his post, aid the woman so obviously injured, but he was nearly out of the storm, and any disturbance could endanger them all. Newly determined, he was able to bring the ship to relative safety in a half hour.

The woman had not moved an inch.

Horrified, Starkey saw the crew appear on deck, knowing that Hook would have ordered them to assess and fix any damage to The Jolly Roger. These men – these pirates – were capable of incredible brutality.

He could see the woman stir, lifting her head and squinting into the newly shining sun. A moment later, the men spotted her. The mob rushed at her, and Starkey, for the first time in centuries, abandoned his post, running to the captain's cabin.

Emma was pretty sure she was dead. Except being dead shouldn't hurt so much. Breathing stuck knives into her chest. She finally was able to manage her pain enough to slowly open her eyes.

The light was blinding. It took a few moments for her to see anything at all, but when her eyes finally could focus, she saw the sky. Nearly delirious with shock, she lifted her head and turned it to the side, expecting Red to be laying next to her, imagining the clouds into shapes. Instead, she saw the blurry outlines of a pirate crew advancing quickly on her.

A whisper, more of a croak, escaped her lips as she realized what was happening, "oh no, oh no oh no oh no, no."

Close enough finally to focus on the faces of the two men leading the charge, she nearly vomited. Vance and Rack. The ones who wanted Emmett gone. Emma knew in her current state, they had every advantage possible to deliver the threats that they had hissed.

Before she could even let out a scream, Rack and Vance each grabbed her forearms, dragging her to the mast and shoving her against it. When her back hit the wood and jarred her ribs, she began saying her goodbyes.

The crowd of men had her surrounded, offering no escape as she slumped against the wooden beam.

"Who is she?"

"Hell if I know."

"How'd she get here?"

"Is that Emmett?"

The incredulous pirates were for the most part incredibly confused. Based on the words she could make out with her still-ringing ears she was able to tell that her ruse had been successful these past few weeks.

The snickering laughs only inches from her face brought her back to the present, staring into the eyes of Rack and Vance. There was no mercy visible in their pupils, expanding to the point of looking animalistic with their promised brutality and mercilessness.

"Well look at that, Rack. Seems a lady must have snuck on board. She must really want to be with pirates to do something that foolish."

"Why Vance, I think you're right. Maybe we should give her a taste of us, eh?"

A moment later, Rack had torn the tattered remains of her shirt from her body. The body wrapping she had been using every morning to conceal her figure remained, but she knew that they were not close to being finished.

Vance used his forearm to press beneath her windpipe, pinning her to the mast. The surrounding men were muttering uneasily, not sure what to make of the situation, unsure if they should intervene and risk being attacked by their own men or just stand by and watch this unnamed woman be violated.

Emma was now fully conscious, and with a renewed anger, she scratched at Vance's arm in vain. He licked her cheek slowly, and she was determined not to let a tear escape. She would not let them think they were going to break her. Meeting his eyes, she forced a sarcastic smile to don her face, and said, "What's the matter, Vance? Can't get a woman to go with you willingly?"

The pain across her face informed her that she had been slapped. Her vision went black for a moment, but she smiled with bloody teeth showing due to her now-split lip. She hoped she looked gruesome. She hoped she looked defiant.

The knives she kept tucked in the back of her pants had long since fallen off. If they had remained on her person, she may have been stabbed with her own weapons and died when she was hit with the boom. For a brief moment, she wondered if it would have been a better fate.

Rack stepped in and took over restraining her, pinning her arms above her head, stretching her already severely hurt ribs and abdomen until Emma felt like she was going to split in half.

"You may not be willing, little lady, but I'll have you screaming either way."

She adjusted her stance, trying in vain to lower her center of gravity so that if given a moment long window of opportunity, she could attack as best she could. She may not be victorious, but there was no way in hell Emma was going to die any way but fighting.

The shift in her feet suddenly caused a sharp stinging sensation in her shoes, and Emma remembered that she had tucked a spare knife into her boot earlier that day in case the rope ladder had wound up getting tangled around her. There was hope. A fragment of a chance, but there was still enough hope to repair her damaged resolve.

Mentally preparing herself for whatever horrors these men intended to inflict on her, she jumped in surprise when there was a loud bang.

The door to the captain's cabin had been thrown open, and the heavy wooden door had been thrown with enough force to slam against the adjacent wall.

Emma's eyes flew to the sound, and for the first time she clearly saw the pirate captain she had been working under.

There was no other way to say it, he was stunning. Black hair framed a face far handsomer than any Emma had seen. Based on the brief glance she saw of his scanning eyes, they looked to be a light blue that rivaled that of the ocean.

Shaking herself out of her reverie that had only lasted a fraction of a second, she saw her opportunity. Vance and Rack had turned their heads in response to the noise of the shuddering door, and then focused on their captain.

Emma slid her foot out of her boot, and grasped the hilt of her small dagger between her toes, lifting her foot and transferring the weapon to the hand she was able to pull free from Rack's grasp. Plunging its blade into his palm as it reached to once again capture her, she spun and instantly had his back against the mast, her knife to his throat before he could even let out a shout.

Upon hearing his startled yelp that had transformed into a screech of pain, every man on deck focused their attention on Emma's blade, pressed firmly against Rack's Adam's apple.

Slowly, she faced Hook, who was staring at her with a baffled expression.

Their eyes met, and she ignored the small flutter she felt as she stared into the blue eyes that did indeed put the ocean to shame as she had guessed.

There wasn't a single noise to be heard on deck besides the gentle creaking of the wooden ship rocking on the now calm waves.

Emma took a deep breath, praying her voice wouldn't crack or wheeze, and broke the ominous silence, saying, "Call them off."

It was clear who she was referring to. The crew surrounding the mast were feet away from her; it was only Rack and Vance who were within inches of her clearly abused body, both with terrified expressions on their faces.

The captain seemed to gather his thoughts at her declaration, and in a controlled, low voice ordered, "Vance. Rack. Leave her be."

As soon as her blade did not have contact with Rack's throat, Vance lunged at her with a furious shout accompanied by Rack, reaching for his collection of deadly weapons hanging on his hip.

Emma had expected such a reaction, and lifted her miniscule blade into its path, hoping to diminish some of its force.

Her actions proved to be unneeded however, when the blade Vance had drawn was suddenly stopped by a gleaming, deadly hook, filling the tense air with an echoing clang.

"I ordered you to leave her be. You dare to defy a direct order from your captain?"

The viciousness of Hook's tone was not lost on Vance nor Rack as both began to stutter out explanations, cut off by Hook's next decree.

"Starkey, take these two to the irons for tonight. There is no disobedience permitted. Tomorrow I shall decide how to deal with two men who spark mutiny."

Although she had not been educated on the intricacies of the caste system on a pirate ship, it was obvious from the somber expressions on every crewman's face that mutiny was an incredibly serious offense.

Starkey leaped forward, handcuffs already at his disposal, and soon led the two down into what Emma assumed were the irons.

Emma focused her attention once again on Captain Hook's face and had to remind herself to keep her face strong, not wanting to look like some kid with a crush. She was not weak, and damned if she let anyone think she was.

Hook pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side in consideration, before a look of resolution set in his eyes.

"Lass, accompany me down to my cabin."

Determined not to be led into an even more disastrous situation, she raised her chin and crossed her arms.

"If I refuse, Captain?"

The blue of his eyes seemed to darken and a sinister smile marred his handsome face. "Would you prefer to be in the company of my two mutineers in the irons tonight?" he asked with a mocking tone of concern.

She could not conceal her look of terror before Hook saw it, and with a triumphant smirk said, "I thought as much. Drop your blade and follow me."

Obeying his command, she trailed his footsteps and tried in vain to hide her limp.

The sunlight was extinguished as they journeyed below deck and she set her eyes on the door to his private quarters.

I should have taken my chances with The Dark One.

Very few things left Killian speechless. He was a master of words. His manipulation of words was the reason he had acquired the majority of his successes. The only time he was not speaking was when he was allowing a dramatic silence in order to build tension and intimidate whoever he was speaking to.

He had lived for centuries, and never had he been left gaping, thoughts halted.

It had taken only moments for Killian to rush onto the deck after Starkey banged on his door, shouting that he had to come up to the deck.

Starkey had never left his post at the wheel, and when Killian burst onto the scene above his cabin he was half expecting the ship to be in flames or sinking.

Instead he noticed the entirety of his crew gathered around the main mast. Confused by Starkey's urgency and fear in his tone, he scanned the group of men as he approached the area which they were congealed around.

He had barely made out Vance and Rack standing before the beam when everything about the scene changed in a flash.

He could only watch in complete shock and silence as the lithe shape of a woman appeared to be attacking the two of his men. The fluidity of her movements made it seem as though she was dancing, and not even the sight of his men's spilled blood distracted him from his focus on the blonde.

He closed his mouth and began to try to understand what the hell was happening on his ship. He saw a knife against his crewman's throat, and with a flip of blonde hair, he met the eyes of the attacker.

Storm clouds thundered in her gaze, but the steely set to her gaze did nothing to distract from her beauty. She was nothing like the flood of pretty women Killian had seen and even bedded, she was magnificent.

He was not only awestruck by her obvious beauty, but her fierceness. This diminutive lass had just bested one of his strongest men, and now met his eyes with no undercurrent of fear.

Her voice cut through his awe, and her gaze narrowed before she said, "Call them off."

Killian had to employ every ounce of self control to keep the expression of surprise off of his face. What in heaven's name did she need to be called off?

After a cursory glance, his blood felt as though it had stopped in his veins. The woman before him was disheveled, clothing removed, and covered in obvious, extremely extensive injuries.

He struggled to keep his voice neutral as he looked to the men with disgust in his heart. He knew there were deplorable men on his ship. Hell, if he was being honest he was one of them. But he had never forced himself on a woman. Anyone who did was a coward, and seeing such behavior take place on his own ship was enough to make him see red.

"Vance. Rack. Leave her be."

The moment the woman lowered her blade, Killian saw the tension in Vance and Rack's stances and lunged forward. He caught Vance's dagger easily with his hook, and was impressed with the lass's instincts after noting that she had already anticipated the blow.

Rage coursed through his veins with the flagrant disrespect shown to him by the very men he had recruited.

"I ordered you to leave her be. You dare to defy a direct order from your captain?"

The men began to spew excuses, but Killian would show mercy to those who had been merciless themselves only minutes ago to the unnamed woman.

"Starkey, take these two to the irons for tonight. There is no disobedience permitted. Tomorrow I shall decide how to deal with two men who spark mutiny."

Killian knew he would have to carefully consider how to proceed with the two. Any hint of mutiny or undermining of the captain could tear a ship apart, and after centuries of cohesiveness, he would have to deal with their violations of orders swiftly and brutally.

Starkey cuffed the offenders and led them down to the irons, where they would await the punishment he would decide upon before the next dawn.

He met the eyes of the woman again. Now that she or any of his men were in no immediate danger, he was having difficulty deciding how to proceed with this unexplained and downright bizarre circumstance.

If he were to treat her with outright kindness or gentleness, he risked his reputation as a ruthless man, one he had to sustain now more than ever after the display of public disrespect that had just taken place. Being kind to her could also endanger her, as any of the men would be tempted by a woman on board, and if they perceived her as weak there would be all the more temptation to take advantage.

An idea struck him. If the crew believed she was his, off limits, her chances were significantly better. The consequence of touching something that belonged to Captain Hook was enough to deter the crew, who would know that any violation of the unwritten law would result in an incredibly painful, brutal punishment.

"Lass, accompany me down to my cabin."

Instead of agreeing immediately, as he had expected her to since he had just arguably saved her life, she sudden crossed her arms and raised her face in clear defiance. This one was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.

"If I refuse, Captain?"

This bint is going to condemn herself. I just saved her life! Why the bloody hell wouldn't she accompany me to my quarters?

Women had jumped at the chance to sleep with Captain Hook. After Milah, he had never again been emotionally involved with women, only using them to sate his lust. Used to the attention and even eagerness that he was usually shown, Killian couldn't help but feel angered.

He had to keep up his ruse to give her any chance of lasting on The Jolly Roger but this prig was making it damn difficult to watch out for her well being. "Would you prefer to be in the company of my two mutineers in the irons tonight?" he asked, lathering on the sarcasm and disdain.

Her look of pure panicked fear caused a small twinge of guilt before he rid himself of such weakness. Triumphant in his plan, he only had to enhance his already existing triumphant pride as he gloated, "I thought as much. Drop your blade and follow me."

Without looking back, he spun and descended the stairs to his cabin, hearing her disturbed gait a few paces behind him. Opening his door and gesturing for her to enter, he froze for the second time in a single day.

Now what?

Let me know what you guys think so far, predictions for the upcoming chapters, etc. I love feedback. xx