Thanks, firstly, to those who have reviewed this story so far, it really means a lot to me! And, as to the question when we'd meet Killian, I think this chapter will cover it just nicely! I'm planning to update this Fanfic about once a week, though that can really, really vary since the real life, sadly, doesn't always accomodate.
Secondly, I am kind of unsure about my writing and looking for a native speaker of English to do some beta-ing for me, so if anyone of you is interested, I'd be thrilled to get a PM by someone willing to put up with me.
When the magic swept over the land, Killian was once more in the safe bubble Cora had conjured up. Every day the past 28 years, he'd checked every looking glass he could get a hold of, making sure he was still devilishly handsome and not a sixty-year-old man by the time he could get his vengeance. Fighting the Dark One as a mere mortal was hard enough, and he didn't want to give fighting him as an old man a try. And yes, he was still the devilishly handsome cutthroat pirate he'd been when the curse had taken most of the population of the Enchanted Forest to this strange land without magic.
That fateful day, he'd thought an earthquake was going to destroy what little buildings were left, but after a questioning look towards Cora, who had looked just a bit too content for his liking, he'd figured that it was over, all of it. The curse, the blockade of travel between the realms, everything. Things were back to normal – and so was his plan of action.
Killian had been anxious to get his hands on that dagger for centuries, and then was all the more aggravated by the fact that Her Majesty hadn't agreed to immediately setting sail to wait whether or not the people would come back. And most rightly so, for the next day a purple cloud, spreading like an avalanche, had rolled over woods and hills and mountains, the overgrown fields and castles. It hadn't taken long for them to find out what this, ultimately, meant.
That was when Cora had left him without so much as a goodbye. She didn't need his help in getting to Regina any longer, and while there were quite a few things he could have had use for – especially her magic – there had been no way of making her stay.
He'd already known everything necessary – and more – to not only comprehend what was going on with the magic, but also to grasp what to expect of this new Misthaven. Not only were the bandit and the shepherd back in power (not that Killian of all people were to judge them), but they'd probably also brought the bloody Savior home. And he couldn't wait to see what that one had in store for him.
Twenty-eight years were quite long a time to anyone with a normal feeling of how it went by. To Killian it had seemed an eternity passed in the blink of an eye after centuries of Neverland's seas. And, anticipating how sweet it would taste to finally get to the Crocodile, it would be worth the wait.
They'd set sail the very morning Cora had left, returning to the seas of the Enchanted Kingdoms to pillage and plunder every ship of the kingdom, long crumbled into fragments, that had once been ruled by the coward who'd cost the Jolly her first captain. Back, when she'd still gone by Jewel of the Realm, that was. When he and Liam had been Captain and Lieutenant Jones, sailing in the King's navy and taking that King's orders.
He'd thought about returning to Neverland, to be honest, quite a few times. It was the only place where he wouldn't age, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. But then, where was the fun in doing what he'd been doing for the last three bloody centuries? After all, the Dark One was here, all Killian would have to do was lure him into the land without magic again and then bury his hook in his chest as he'd done the day Milah had died. Just this time, the cold metal would fulfil its purpose, if things went according to plan.
Seeing what had happened to the land that hadn't been included in the safe bubble the day the curse had been cast, all overgrown villages and crumbling castles, made him wonder whether there was much for the people who'd been taken away to go back to. For twenty-eight years, wildlife had taken over the woods, and the ogres had returned more violent than ever, and it was one of the many occasions that he was glad to be on a ship, safe from them, since they certainly didn't seem the seafaring type.
On board, the crew was busying themselves with swabbing the deck, cleaning out every last corner of the ship, making grand plans to wait for the great kingdoms to rebuild and then take their riches. They did have a point there – the armies were certainly not half as well-manned as before, and, after nearly three decades of being cursed to a land without magic, they would have other priorities... for now. At least, Killian counted on it, as did a part of his crew, hoping to get a piece of that enormous cake, large enough for them to settle down and retire from pirating. Well, the latter was not what he saw in the future for himself, but riches, taken from those who didn't need them, were a nice thing to have if one intended to get their hands on a magic bean or two.
Honestly, he hadn't given it much thought what would happen once he'd killed Rumplestilzkin. Perhaps, he'd live out his days drinking rum on an island, or he'd just keep pirating until it cost him what little he had left – his life. But to be united with Liam once more, after centuries without anyone to hold onto, that would be, as Pan would've put it, an awfully big adventure. He knew Liam would've abhorred him for becoming who he was today, at least up to the moment he'd almost died of the plant their King had so generously sent them to bring from Neverland, promising to make them heroes to be known until the end of time.
Instead, there had been no heroes in Neverland, none except maybe Baelfire. The boy who'd looked so splendidly like Milah that Killian's heart had gone soft on him in an instant, at least long enough to let him linger on the Jolly when what he should've done from the beginning on was to deliver him to the lost boys.
No – his honour had demanded of him to at least try and be a father figure to the child, up to the day he'd pushed the pirate away hard and far enough to make him give in to his inner darkness once more. A part of him still resented himself for that – leaving a boy, abandoned by his mother and, ultimately, his father to fend for himself in a land that knew no happiness. After all, he'd had his fair share of that himself after his own father had left him and Liam.
What a family they would have made, Milah, Bae, and Killian. She'd often talked of going back for her son when he was older, old enough to hold and swing a sword, old enough to become a pirate himself, to break the tradition of cowardice lingering in his paternal line. They would have shaped him into a fine man, he was sure.
And all that froze into even sharper focus what the Dark One had once taken from him; it had been more than just a hand, and the everlasting mark on his forearm reminded Hook of just that, spurring on his hatred on those days when even the memory of that dreadful day didn't seem enough to keep him going.
It was on the third day that Killian discovered something Cora had generously left behind since she herself had no further use for it. The cuffs they'd intended to use to climb the beanstalk, he remembered, but not how she'd come to hide them in his quarters under a loose floorboard where she'd placed a small bag for storage. He probably wouldn't have been surprised, after finding it, to see a still beating heart there, too, but Her Majesty, the Queen of Hearts did not leave such a treasure behind. No, she knew that not all treasure was silver and gold, and that control was sometimes worth more than all the riches in the world. Who would've thought that wanting it all for her daughter would make her lose her in the end?
The first ship he saw on the water, after days of aimlessly sailing about, carried the flag of King George's kingdom, the light blue, white and gold clashing with the red the sky was painted in during the hours of dusk. King George, who'd lost his people to a prince who was not his son and a bandit who'd been hunted in her own kingdom. King George, the father-in-law to Snow White, and grandfather of the Savior.
Oh yes, this promised to get very interesting, he decided as he gave the orders to keep an eye on them from a distance and get some rest for a few hours. This was the first ship they'd plunder in nearly three decades – so they'd better catch them off-guard instead of just barging in on them at dusk when the other ship's crew could easily see them coming. After all, Killian couldn't be too sure about how many men there were on that ship, and what it was carrying.
Smiling, he left the helm to Smee and retreated to his quarters to rest awhile. He didn't do much of that, however, the thrill of anticipation tingling in his fingers and urging him to just grab his sword and take that ship by himself. Therefore, it wasn't much of a surprise that the moment he decided that they'd waited long enough, a predatory smirk found its way on his face when they caught up.