While her capture was inevitable, one pirate now glared at her over a broken and bloodied nose. Emma smirked at him with a grim sort of pleasure. Her hand might well hurt but not as much as his nose would for another few weeks. In retaliation, when they caught her, the rope bonds were tied tightly to her wrists. Black Beard, who's hair was more chestnut than black, held a curved cutlass to her throat.

'You're lucky we're not to harm you Princess,' he said, his face inches from her, rancid breath washing over. 'Bring her along.'

Emma recoiled from the captain as one of the other pirates grabbed her bonds. Although the tug hurt, she didn't give them the satisfaction of expressing pain despite it taking a lot of her willpower not to complain about the hot burns caused by the coarse rope. So far as she could tell, they planned to take her to Mournstead. The town was considered a bit of a No Man's Land. Border disputes between Snow White and King George of the Eastern Realm had resulted in the quaint port declaring autonomy. Now it was a favoured harbour of pirates and other less reputable traders.

She had once asked her mother about it. However, the Queen had forbidden conversation about it. Like her new rival in the Eastern Realm, the nephew of the now dead George and thus Emma's cousin in some degree, they had both attempted to reclaim the land with disastrous endings. The pirates were not keen to give away their free port. The inhabitants of Mournstead expressed the sentiment by firing a bombardment of cannons into the castle across the bay. Into the Ivory Tower.

Emma looked at her home, her Ivory Tower twinkling in the sunlight. She sighed. The words 'be careful what you wish for' came to mind. Rough hands pressed down on her shoulders as she was marched through the main street. Men and women alike moved out of the way of Black Beard. Many considered him to be the most cut throat of all to hoist a sail although all his moniker baring peers would likely bestow that title on themselves. Pirates had a sense of pride when it came to the number of kills they had committed. Emma walked with her head held high, aware of the whispers that followed this little press gang correctly named her as Emma of Misthaven.

Black Beard revelled in his victory until they reached the port. Queen Anne's Revenge was an impressive ship, once in the service of the Northern Realms, but she was dwarfed by another ship bobbing lazily in the calm harbour waters. Black Beard paused, as did his men, as they glanced around. It didn't take a genius to realise they were looking for the Captain of the impressive boat.

'He was warned to stay away,' growled Black Beard to his bosun.

The shaved, heavy set man who she had punched in the face nodded grimly. 'Since when have you known Hook to take heed of any warning laid down?'

'Then we will just have to put him in his...' he trailed off as the man they were clearly speaking about appeared at the gangplank of his ship.

'Times must be hard, Edward, if you're reduced to capturing Princesses for the Evil Queen,' Hook declared as he walked down the gangplank to the jetty. 'Whereas I, just last week, procured three chests of pure gold from the Golden Kingdom itself.'

Compared to the men surrounding her, and Black Beard himself, Hook was remarkably well groomed for a pirate. In fact, he was classically handsome. He strutted with confidence stepping on to the gangplank with his eyes, blue, cold and angry, on Black Beard. For all his bravado, her captor recoiled, his eyes on the cruel looking hook which glinted dangerously at the end of his left arm.

Hook turned his attention to Emma, his disdainful expression softened a little as he looked her over. The Pirate Captain caressed the tip of his hook with his ring clad fingers as his dark gaze focused on Black Beard again. 'Certainly pays more than Princesses.'

Black Beard turned to look at his prisoner. Emma gave him a hard stare, finding it difficult to disagree with Hook on the fact this crew would make more money by pilfering their weasely guts out over kidnapping her for the Evil Queen. At this, realisation set in… The Evil Queen had sent these men for her. However, bound as she was, surrounded by men and women who had practically gone down on one knee for her captors, meant she had no chance of escape.

The pirate turned to look at his rival, smirked with a crooked grin then at his crew. 'Let's make sure our guest is comfortable in the brig.'

-/-

Five days passed with Emma suffering from various degrees of sea sickness when a shout on deck caught her attention. After spending days mulling over the implication of being delivered to the Evil Queen, she expected the shout to be 'Land Ahoy'. Instead it was an order to ready the cannon's. A yell. He was sailing under a Crimson Flag. An order for no quarter to be given should they be boarded the ship chasing them. While Emma knew little of pirate terminology, she knew enough to know this would be a bloody battle.

Queen Anne's Revenge sped up as it attempted to outrun its pursuer, crashing into the waves. The force threw Emma into the bars of her cell. She clung to the roughly wrought bars to prevent herself from being flung to the floor. As the onslaught continued.

'Drop the kedge,' came a holler from above.

Moments later Emma heard a splash. Seconds later the boat swung around abruptly. Emma squealed. Partly from the part of trying to hold on. Partly from the surprise caused by the turn. The cannon fire rattled the ship. This time, Emma let go, and was thrown to the grubby floor. Her wrist cracked unattractively causing a tear to spring from her eye. Emma lay on the floor as the order to refill the cannon's was given from the stern. This time she covered her ears as the shots were fired.

However, the hard work of the crew didn't prevent the ship pulling alongside. The room darkened as the light was blotted out.

All she could do was wait as the sound of metal slicing through the air accompanied by screams, the occasional pistol shot and clunk of a body falling into the sea played out above her. For the first time in days, she was glad to be locked away but the gods only knew what the invading force would do with her. Eventually, it seemed like a long time, but Emma couldn't be sure, victory was declared on the decks of Queen Anne's Revenge amongst the smell of smouldering wood.

Remembering she is a Princess, she pushed herself to her feet, careful not to jar her now injured wrist. She cradles it as the deck hatch opens. Drawing herself to her full height, she is ready to face whoever won this battle. Dark leather boots, matching trousers with a long coat swishing just below knee.

In hushed whispers, the jailer who provided her meals had told her of Hook. It wasn't the first time she had heard stories of him. Legends surrounding Captain Hook stretch back nearly two hundred years. He was known to sooner strike a man than lend out mercy. Despite the pain it caused, she dropped her hand so he won't see her weakness. Her other hand curled around the bars.

'Emma of Misthaven.'

The soft timbre of his voice surprised her after this violent display of power. She meets his eyes, while bloodlust simmers there, rather surprisingly there is also a warmth rising from the depths. Emma glowers at him fiercely. She didn't give into fear in front of Black Beard. She wasn't going to do it now.

'Let me out,' she demanded.

Hook smirked, a lazy expression that only served to accentuate his good looks. He sauntered over holding up the thick key. 'Only if you behave yourself, Princess.'

Despite the slight leer in his voice, he unlocks the door, holds it open and offers his arm to her. She stares at him before lifting her skirts to climb the stairs to the deck. She hasn't seen the sky for a whole week, but she emerges on a deck to find carnage. Black Beard's crew had fought with all their might but it seemed they were sorely out matched. Hook followed her up the stairs, rubbing the stubble on his chin and looking surprisingly apologetic. She frowned.

'Get me off this boat,' she said faintly, trying not to look at the bloodstained deck covered in fallen bodies.

Hook nodded, beckoning her to the edge of the deck where his own ship bobbed lazily beside the wrecked remains of Queen Anne's Revenge.

'As you wish,' he replied looking to his own ship. 'Mr Nolan, a gangplank for the lady, if you will.'