A/N: This is a chapter I have looked forward to posting almost since we first began this project! We hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it!"
Disclaimer: We do not own Once Upon a Time. If we did, the episodes would air every evening instead of every week! May credit be given where credit is due.
Chapter XXI
A thick gray fog hung over the land, transforming its beautiful, towering willows into ominous shadows. It was one of these vaporous tendrils that woke the sleeping beauty at the base of the Lost Boys' white oak tree, its cool caress making her shudder.
Belle rubbed her eyes and damp forehead, confusedly taking in her glum surroundings. Her gaze drifted to the eastern horizon and with a start she scrambled to her feet. The fog clung so tightly to the earth that even with her hands cupped about her eyes, Belle could not determine whether the sun had already risen. Heart sprinting in her chest, she strained her ears for the tell-tale laughter of the Lost Boys in the cabin, or the trilling notes of the multi-colored finches which nested in the trees. Only silence greeted her, and though it provided some relief, she could not help but worry that the fog had simply caused the boys and the birds to sleep later as well.
As though sensing her anxiety, the low-hanging clouds parted just enough to reveal the faint glimmer of a star on a canvas of gradually lightening indigo. A deep sigh passed Belle's lips as she ran a slightly trembling hand through her bedraggled hair. At least an hour would pass before the first golden ray graced the foggy terrain.
Then again, she reminded herself, time in Neverland was unpredictable; she had not lived there a handful of days and already she could tell that the sun seemed to rise and set according to its own preference. With one last glance at the cabins just visible through the mist and a brief smile at the thought of the children sleeping peacefully inside them, Belle set off for the southeastern shore.
The journey seemed longer and far more exhausting than it had the last time she ventured on it. With a pang somewhere beneath her ribs, she realized that it was because she had not Peter's company and playful conversation.
The heavy blanket of mist covering the land did not help either, and by the time Belle reached the break in the trees signaling the start of the sandy coast, her hands and knees were raw from tripping so often. Inhaling the salty sea air, she passed a hand over the intricate belt the Indians had given her, sighing in relief when she confirmed that she had not lost her knife along the way. She tucked it more firmly beneath the belt before stepping out onto the isolated beach.
Without the brilliant rays of sunlight glinting off of its face, the shore seemed far less mystical than it had two days prior. No fish jumped merrily in the murky water and the worn dock was vacant of any curious sea gulls. The cold mist prickled at the back of her neck as she walked toward the dock, making her flesh pucker in gooseflesh. The dull thumps of her feet on the damp wooden planks were Belle's only company as she wandered the length of the abandoned dock.
Only a thin layer of fog rested over the choppy ocean water, occasionally clearing when a particularly strong wave crested. Belle scanned the area, her eyes squinting as they searched for any sign of the infamous captain and his crew. Through the gray mist, she could just glimpse the black silhouette of a large ship bobbing gently not more than one league from the shore. A black flag, mounted on the tallest mast, danced in the wind. And Belle did not need superior eyesight to know that the image displayed on it was a skull and crossbones.
Her gaze darted back to the water, searching for the oblique shape of a jollyboat.
"Well, well, it's no wonder your name means 'beauty.'"
Belle whirled around, her unraveling braids falling about her face as she placed a hand above the heart that was trying to burst through her chest.
The first thing she noticed was the lavish scarlet coat draped over his slender frame, its gold embroidery glistening like fresh tears despite the absence of sunlight. She could not stop herself from wondering if its rich color was the work of expensive dye, or the remnants of the horrors he had committed in this land. Her gaze slid up to his face, taking in the strong jaw, the high cheekbones, the unnervingly lifeless eyes which sat beneath his sun-kissed brow.
He might have been handsome once, but something shadowed every feature like a dark sentry.
His stance was casual, the end of his left arm hidden in the pocket of his coat, but the way he stared unblinkingly at her face reminded Belle of a predator stalking its prey. Her eyes darted to the pocket that hid the source of his infamy.
Though she knew of its lethal existence, had glimpsed the internal and external scars that it had left on the Lost Boys, somehow the hook's concealment only added to her unease.
"I would tell you there is no need to be alarmed," the pirate drawled, smirking, "But I do not enjoy the taste of lies."
"I appreciate the honesty, Captain Hook," Belle responded smoothly, shaking her wind-tossed hair over her shoulders as the pirate quirked an eyebrow. "I summoned you here to discuss the fate of a man you hold prisoner on your ship."
"I am aware; I do know how to read," Hook sneered, languidly stepping closer. Belle felt her face flush lightly, but willed her expression to remain unchanged otherwise.
"I'd like to make a deal, an exchange," she declared, the firmness of her tone reminiscent of the days when she defied her father's advisors and attended the war council.
"Go on," Hook drawled, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a smirk.
Belle swallowed thickly, glancing down at the pirate's other arm, the lethal end of which was concealed in the pocket of his lavish coat. With a quick assuring nod to herself, she met Hook's eyes.
"Take me instead."
Although she had not truly expected him to immediately acquiesce to the trade, she could not help feeling a stab of offense at the harsh, barking notes of laughter which flowed out of his mouth. She watched him, her face stony and impassive as she waited for him to speak.
"You know," the pirate finally said, still chuckling, "It is not often that I am surprised. The absurdity of your offer...Why would I possibly exchange access to unparalleled power, for you?"
Belle clenched her teeth as he once more descended into laughter. So, her earlier speculations were correct: Hook was using the dagger to control her true love.
"Oh, but I mean no offense," the captain continued, misjudging her reaction, "You would make a lovely, albeit useless, addition to my crew. And your offer is touchingly noble," he insisted sardonically, a bejeweled hand coming to rest over the place where his heart might have been. Belle curled her hands into fists until her nails bit into the flesh of her palms.
"So noble, in fact, that I cannot help but wonder the nature of your relation to this man. Such loyalty... Is he your master?" Belle watched as his black gaze ghosted over her figure, suppressing a shudder. "Or lover?"
His words, which would have been rather harmless to any other audience, made the young woman flinch as though struck. For one brief moment, as the first golden ray of sunlight pierced the sky above the horizon, Belle imagined the evil, merciless queen standing in the captain's place. She took a steadying breath, repressing a shudder of revulsion and willing the unbidden memory to retreat.
"Where is he?" Belle asked, hating that a slight tremor had entered her voice.
"Who?" Hook asked, his smirk widening into a grin; Belle bit back a scowl.
"The man you hold prisoner on your ship," she responded gratingly.
"I'm afraid you'll need to be more specific. After all, some of the more disgruntled members of my crew claim they, too, are not there by choice," he drawled, lazily inspecting the rings adorning his right hand.
Belle glared at him, a twisting sense of dread settling low in her abdomen. At her silence the captain looked up, staring for a moment before a sudden cruel glint entered his gaze.
"How about a name?" He asked in a voice that sounded more like a serpent's hiss.
"H-his name?" Belle whispered, her throat constricting as she once more wracked her thoughts for her true love's moniker and came up empty-handed.
"You've forgotten, haven't you?" Hook asked, and she might have found his tone gentle were it not for the sinister relish in his eyes. "What a shame," he murmured, and Belle's anguish was replaced by a hot surge of anger as the captain tut-tutted sardonically.
"But, perhaps all hope is not lost. I am not a cruel man," Hook smiled wickedly, "You may yet possess something I want."
"Name it," Belle forced out through gritted teeth. Hook's smile vanished, his eyes flashing with anticipation.
"Simple: the whereabouts of the Lost Boys' shelter."
A white-hot jolt of fear raced along Belle's spine, settling as a heavy, iron knot in the center of her chest. She inhaled slowly, desperately hoping her face had remained impassive in the quiet seconds following the captain's request.
"I have not met them," she insisted, momentarily pleased that, this time, her voice did not shake. "My home has been with the Indians these past days," she expounded, gesturing to the deerskin dress she donned.
Again the pirate's thin lips parted in a harsh, mirthless laugh that made the knot twist even tighter in Belle's chest.
"It appears honesty is a respect you demand only from others," Hook observed, his black eyes flashing with rage despite the coolness of his tone.
Belle opened her mouth to protest, but the words died in her throat when the pirate captain raised his hook, on the end of which was impaled the letter she wrote the previous morning.
"Exquisite parchment, wouldn't you agree?" Hook asked lightly, something knowing and dark in his gaze that forced Belle to only stare in silence, brow furrowing in confusion. "With its fine, red trim. Hard to forget, let alone replicate."
Belle's mind wildly recalled the intricate beadwork of the Indians; surely their craftsmanship could produce something like fine parchment.
"The Indians-"
"Have never raided my ship," Hook interrupted sharply, "which is the only place on this island where such finery can be found." He stretched his left arm over the water, shaking it so that his silver hook was unsheathed from her letter.
Belle's mouth snapped shut, her feet involuntarily shuffling back a step as she was reminded once more that a meters-long pier and a lethal pirate stood between herself and her only avenue of escape. Her movement seemed to amuse Hook, whose lips parted in a primal grin as he stepped languorously closer.
"I know you've been staying with them, Belle," he murmured, his gaze focused unblinkingly on her pale face. Belle wrapped her arms about her waist, slightly exaggerating her terror as the fingers of her right hand took hold of the hilt of her knife.
"Tell me the location of their home."
"Never," Belle vowed firmly.
And this time she could not suppress the shiver of unease at the cold, dead look in his eyes as he chuckled darkly.
"Oh, but you see, my dear," Hook leered, stepping so close that she could feel his breath on her face. "I wasn't asking."
With the speed and precision expected of one who had killed before, he swung his silver hook toward her collarbone. But Belle was ready for him, and when she deflected his blow with her unsheathed knife, she could not hide a small triumphant smirk at his blatant surprise.
"I feel sorry for you," Belle gasped, blocking his second attempt to mar her with his namesake. "I can't imagine how lonely you must be, spending all your time hunting after children. Do you envy them?"
"Your lover has committed far worse crimes," Hook grated, swinging his other arm toward her. Belle managed to duck beneath it, swiping her blade to defend yet another blow from his hook.
"You couldn't understand; your heart is rotten." Wielding the knife the way her true love had taught her, she jabbed at the pirate's side, aiming to wound just enough to disarm him. When her blade was but a breath away from the scarlet coat, Hook whipped around, his right hand capturing her wrist in a vice.
"Where do you think I learned it all, dearie? Like father, like son."
Belle's mouth fell open, her struggles to escape ceasing in her shock. This monster, this ruthless murderer...could he really be her true love's...
"No…" she said disbelievingly, a half-sob escaping her lips, "It can't be. Not you."
With a cruel grin, he jerked her wrist back, tearing the knife from her grip as she cried out in pain. Before Belle had time to recover, she felt the pirate's long fingers twist in her hair, wrenching her head back so forcefully her eyes watered at the pain.
Through the stinging of her scalp, she could just distinguish the cool caress of a silver hook pressed against her throat.
A/N: Please review! :-)