Chapter 6 : The wolves

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The darkness of the forest almost threatened to eat her up. She had no idea what time it was, night had to be close, but she could not have known: the thick clumps formed a roof above her head, a canopy of foliage, and the trunks of the fir-trees looked like black shadows standing in the white.

The snow fell faster and the snowflakes grew bigger. She felt the icy wind seep into her hood and bite her neck and ears. She slowed down a little, out of breath, and looked over her shoulder. She did not hear anything but the sinister wailing of the wind, each time more biting, more penetrating. She wondered why the guards were not on her heels. Maybe because of the weather. A blizzard had to be on its way, nothing else could have stopped them. "Great," she mumbled.

She looked all around her: no cave, no cottage, no shelter. And she knew she needed one. The snowstorms of Elanoriah had their reputation, and it was not propitious. She lowered her head and noticed the tracks of hooves in the snow. Her horse's hooves. I hope the storm will cover them soon enough, she thought. But once it's over, I'll have to get rid of Nanna. I can't leave any track behind. With a sigh, she caressed the withers of her mare. The race of the snowflakes sped up as the wind became more powerful. She was running out of time. And she had no idea what to do.

Suddenly, she heard it: the ominous howling breaking through the sound of the wind. The threatening tooting rising in the cold air. The crack of a bough. The crunching of the snow. And at last, two yellow eyes gleaming in the dark. Wolves.

"Not today buddy," she snarled, preparing her bow. But other cries echoed in the air, and soon, five other pairs of eyes emerged. She was surrounded by six wolves. And they did not seem friendly. "Great. Fucking amazing."

She remained still, the arrow ready to be shot. She was not a fool. She knew that these wolves were starving and that she had to smell delicious. She saw the beasts getting closer to her, slowly, very slowly, their eyes set upon her with greed. All of a sudden, letting out a last snort, the first wolf leaped on its prey, followed by the rest of its pack. Emma shot him and the arrow sank into its flesh. But the other wolves had already started to take care of the mare, biting its legs.

"Nanna, hold on, please!" Emma shouted. If her mare were to fall down she would not stand a chance in front of the beasts. She hit the wolves, weeping them away with her bow but they came back straight away, their bloody-drenched muzzles always hungry for more. The mare let out a cry and collapsed as the blade-like teeth ripped its flesh apart.

"Nanna!" Emma yelled. Her head hit the ground as the horse lay down in the snow, gasping, the wolves shredding her limbs and the scraps of flesh hanging from their muzzles. The mare gave out a moan and her eyes met Emma's. The princess understood. She took her bow and without any hesitation, she shot the mare in the head, putting her out of her misery. The white ground was stained with red, and the growls of the wolves mingled with the hissing wind. Emma tried to get up, but the ache stopped her: a cramp. She let out a groan, louder than she thought for the wolves turned their heads in her direction. She took a deep breath and dragged herself about until her back reached a tree. She curled up and took her dagger, well aware that it would not be enough. After a few minutes of intimidation, a wolf jumped on her and she stabbed him in the heart, but she did not see the second's jaw closing on her left hand. She let out a cry of pain, the sharpen teeth piercing her hand always deeper. She tried to stab him, but another one bit her sleeve, keeping her from moving.

This was not what was supposed to happen. She was not supposed to die in the snow, eaten up by wolves. She felt pain running underneath her skin and her whole body hurt. Warm tears filled her eyes and stung her cheeks. Her nanny's words echoed in her head. He looked at me with his yellow eyes... I saw death in them. Mine. Now she understood what she meant back then.

She was about to pass out when a sharp yelping caught her attention. She saw four shadows moving about in the darkness. One of them rushed towards her. "Back off, wolf!" she heard the shadow shout. What unfolded happened quickly. She heard five other cries and felt a heavy load falling on her chest.

"Are you all right?" she heard the shadow ask.

She raised her head, blinked a little, and made out a tall man. All she could see was his blue eyes glowing in the falling night. The blizzard heightened and she was freezing, her whole body shaking. The only heat around emanated from her wound. Ache and cold, dizziness and shivers, that was how freedom tasted.

The man kneeled by her side, took her hand and removed her glove. "That's a pretty bad wound, love," he stated.

"Who are you?" Emma asked, too weak to take her hand out from his warmth.

"Oh I see, that's how you thank the man who just saved you from ending up in mincemeat," the man answered with a grin.

Emma rolled her eyes and sighed. "Thank you. Now who the hell are you?"

The man shook his head and showed her his left hand... shiny and pointy. "My name's Killian Jones, but people have taken to call me by my most colorful moniker-"

"Captain!" a man screamed. "We'd better go, the blizzard is intensifying!"

The "Captain" sighed with annoyance.

"I'm afraid your buddy ruined your introduction, Captain," Emma said lowly, the ache in her hand growing.

He smirked at her and shook his head. "My 'buddy' will pay for that, love. I'm Hook. Now come on, we've got to get out of this bloody forest."

"I'm not going anywhere!" Emma protested. "I escaped in order to get here, it took me twenty three years, I am not leaving!"

Hook arched an eyebrow. "Did you fall on your head darling?"

"Kind of," Emma replied with a pout. Wait, was he patronizing her?

"Look, this hand needs to be taken care of," Hook said as he caressed its back with his thumb. "But if you want to end up in an ice floe, I can leave you here in the snow. It'd be a shame though."

She had just met him, and yet, Emma already hated this annoying Killian Jones. Thwarting her plans, already. Granted, he had saved her. And as she already knew, she needed a shelter. It was not the time to be pig-headed.

"Fine," she sighed while trying to get up but miserably failing, ending up in the Captain's arms.

"It's about bloody time," the latter grinned. Ignoring her protests, he lifted her up and took her in his arms. She automatically placed her hands around his neck, and Hook's grin widened. "I've never seen a woman so eager to be abducted," he said.

"What?" Emma screamed. "Put me down you bastard!"

"Oh, princess, what is this ugly language? Doesn't suit you."

Emma's eyes widened in surprise. "How do you know-"

"That you're a princess? Come on, your fancy cloak, the gloves... Plus, I've already seen you, Emma Elea of Elanoriah."

"And may I know when and where?" Emma sighed.

Hook gave her his softest look and fluttered eyelashes. "Once upon a dream," he whispered. Emma rolled her eyes. After all, wolves were not that bad. Everything looked fucking amazing compared to this infuriating man. The latter walked towards his horse and sat her on its back, placing himself behind her.

"You're not tying me up?" Emma asked with surprise.

"Oh, already up to try some attachments?" Hook purred.

"For the love of the Gods, stop with the innuendos!"

"Might as well ask me to stop breathing!" he scoffed.

Emma grinned. "Now that would be an amazing idea."

Hook shook his head and grabbed the reins. He looked at his men and nodded: they immediately spurred their horses.

The blizzard made it difficult for the animals to move forward. The wind whipped Emma's face and she turned away. She was trembling, and the blood on her hand was still fresh.

"Put this on your wound," Hook said while giving her his scarf.

"Thanks," Emma answered with a flat tone. If he thought he would earn her favors this way...

"You're freezing," he stated then. "Your cloak looks pretty warm though."

"A princess' cloak is not made to survive a blizzard," Emma deadpanned.

"Here," Hook replied opening his own fur coat and wrapping her with it. "Close this before you. The heat of my body and the coat should do."

There was not the slightest hint of innuendo in his voice. And he was right: the heat of his body was already warming her up and stopped the shaking.

"How do you know I'm not going to make you fall over your horse in order to escape?" she asked, curious and intrigued.

"You're too smart for that. You wouldn't survive two hours in this blizzard."

Emma frowned. Point taken, she thought. Why had he an answer for everything? She tightened the coat across her chest and leaned against Hook's body. She owed him her life... and her captivity. She had escaped the castle to end up being abducted by an infamous pirate. And the truth was, she didn't even want to run away. Maybe this was what she had been craving for for her whole life. Adventure. Maybe this was freedom. Fighting wolves, riding with Captain Handsome... She had to admit it, the guy was pretty hot. By all means.

Half an hour later, they saw a twirl of smoke rising between the snowflakes. An inn. A fire. Food. Emma drooled over at the thought of waffles covered with maple syrup. Hook waved his hand and ordered his men to head to the inn. Once there, they rode down their horses, and Hook offered his arms to the princess, who refused.

"I'm not a fucking damsel in distress," she said, raising her chin.

"As you wish, princess," Hook replied with a sigh. "But I did save you from the big bad wolves."

"Something tells me that you might be far more dangerous than them, Captain."

He flashed her a devilish smile. "Touché. But fear not, as long as you do as I say, I won't rip your organs out with my hook."

"That's really comforting, thank you," Emma scowled.

"Now shall we get in or would you rather sleep in the stables?"

Emma sighed. She had a feeling that this man would be her undoing. She felt it.

The atmosphere was warm and Emma could hear the fire crackle and see the flames flicker on the walls. The inn was empty. Empty chairs, empty tables, supposedly empty rooms for it was still early in the night.

"Where is everyone?" Emma asked.

"Oh, that," Hook answered indifferently. "I may have ordered them to leave."

"Ordered them...? You mean you killed them."

The pirate got closer to her. "Actually no," he whispered. "I scared them away and told them to leave because you are quite the important figure, and I could not risk anyone to see you. They would've warned the authorities right away. Now follow me, you must be hungry. I don't want to damage my valuable merchandise. And I have to take care of your hand."

Emma followed him, the thought of some food making her stomach hurt (and the 'merchandise' thing making her want to punch him in the face). She sat at the kitchen's table which was covered with food, took a loaf of bread and bit it with all her might. She watched Hook pouring some milk in a pot and putting it in the fire as she ate. Then, he fished something into a purse: it was a brown and hard square that Emma had never seen before. Hook cracked it and put the chunks into the boiling milk. He sensed Emma's worried look on him.

"Don't worry princess, I'm not drugging you," he said in a smile.

"Do you expect me to trust you, pirate?"

Hook froze and looked at her. "How do you know-"

"That you're a pirate? Come on, the guys call you Captain, you're wearing earrings to pay for your funeral and keep your balance on your ship. Yeah, I've read a lot."

"Well well well, aren't you full of surprises."

Emma's lips curled as he poured the strange mixture in two bowls.

"Drink," he said to her. "I swear you won't be disappointed."

The princess took the bowl and frowned. She looked at the pirate and then gazed at the brown milk. She smelled the spicy scent that exhaled from the delicate smoke. Hook shook his head with impatience and started to drink, maybe to show her that it was harmless. Emma observed him, waiting to see his reaction. All she could see was a huge grin of delight framed by a brown stain that he licked straight away. Intrigued and starving, she raised the bowl to her lips with caution. The warm liquid flew down her throat and its smell invaded her nostrils. She closed her eyes for a while, totally captivated by the taste of this marvel. When she opened them again, her bowl was empty and Hook was looking at her as if she were a child. "Are you sure this isn't a drug?" she asked, already craving for more.

"Aye, not officially at least," Hook grinned.

"What is this?"

"It's called chocolate. It's no wonder you don't know it, it's very difficult to find it in Draiochtland1."

Emma put down her bowl and a an incredulous look appeared on her face. "What do you mean in Draiochtland? Where... Where did you find this?" she inquired.

Hook's face became grave. "Spain, 1528," he said after a while, waiting for her reaction.

What was he blabbering about? "Spain? 1528? Stop messing with me."

"I'm not, princess."

Emma put her elbows on the table and leaned a little, staring at the pirate with concentration. "No you're not," she finally said. "But... I don't understand, is 1528 a year? We're only in 900 here, our calendar began with the reign of Orfhlaith and the construction of the Four Kingdoms."

"Indeed love. In this world." He bent a little over the table too, until his face was only a few inches from Emma's. "I'm going to tell you a little secret. This, your beloved Draiochtland, is far from being the only world. I'm not only a pirate. I'm a Traveler."

The princess frowned a little more. She knew he was telling her the truth. But this truth was totally far-fetched. It overcame all she knew, all she had been taught. "A Traveler?" she blurted out. "I heard about them... Rumor has it that the Travelers were originally sailors who worked with the Giants. The Giants gave them the magical beans so that the sailors visited... supposedly other worlds. It was before the Ogre Wars, when magical creatures and humans lived in harmony and worked together... But the Ogre Wars lasted for a century, and because of that the Travelers disappeared, for the Giants did no longer provide them with the beans. They hid up there, on the beanstalks, while the men remained on the ground, their alliance broken."

"But the Travelers were cunning. They kept some beans. Four more precisely. Enough for two journeys."

"And where did they go?"

The pirate tilted his head to the side. "What do you know about Gaelic, love?"

Emma did not see the link between the language and the other worlds. What was he up to? "It's the oldest language of Draiochtland," she said with discipline – and annoyance. "It's the language of magic, the one that is used for spells."

"Good. Now, have you ever wondered why it allowed magic?"

"Of course."

"And?"

Emma sighed, defeated. "I never found the answer."

"It's because it's not to be found in this world sweetheart," Hook said in a whisper. He sat up straight and crossed his arms on his chest. "Gaelic comes from another Earth, it's a Celtic language. And the reason why it allows magic is because it was used by the greatest magician of this world."

"Okay... And... How did it make its way to our world?" Emma asked, skeptic.

"Travelers of course," Hook winked. "That's how they used the first two beans they had left."

"And the last two?"

Hook smirked. "For another night love," he murmured before getting up.

"And why telling me all of this if I'm just a 'valuable merchandise'?"

"I just loathe ignorance," Hook replied with a supposedly forced haughty tone.

"You know I'm not buying this."

The pirate walked towards her and bent over her, until his mouth was practically stuck to her hear, his breath scorching her neck. "And you know I'm not telling you anything more tonight." Whereupon, he walked out of the kitchen, talking to the princess without looking at her and with this coy tone of his: "You'd better go to bed now love, you look like death warmed over."

Emma rolled her eyes and followed him. When she entered the bedroom, he was sitting on the bed, a piece of fabric in his hand and a flask next to him. "Sit," he said to her.

Emma obeyed, on her guards. The pirate placed his hook round her wounded hand and removed the scarf with his good hand. The bite was deep and Emma clenched her teeth as she felt the fabric brushing her flesh. He looked at her, fragile, hurting, but trying so hard not to show it. Her eyes were set upon the floor, and her the fingernails of her other hand were digging into the mattress. Hook took the flask with his right hand, removed the cork with his teeth and poured a little of the liquid on Emma's wound. The latter shouted and tried to take off her hand from his grasp.

"What the hell is that?" she yelled.

"Rum. A bloody waste of it."

"Spain, 1585?" Emma scoffed, gasping for air as he mopped her wound with a piece of fabric.

"Caribbean, 16512," he replied with a huge grin full of pride.

Of fucking course. After which he took a needle and a linen thread. Emma understood immediately... and started to feel lightheaded. "You are not... I mean..."

"Emma, I have to stitch this up," he softly said.

"But you're a pirate," she spat. "Have you even already sewn before?"

"Somebody showed me once. And I did it a couple of times afterward."

Was this supposed to reassure her? The young woman wanted to protest but she felt the needle diving into her flesh and tearing it apart. He skin turned pale and this time, her fingernails dug into Hook's lap. The latter jumped with surprise.

"Well, something tells me you've gashed many a man's back love," the pirate stated, amused.

"Don't fucking push me," Emma mumbled.

Hook finally wrapped her hand again with a clean linen tissue, and then kissed it gently, his eyes always peering into Emma's.

"What was that for?" she asked.

"To help you heal. Or maybe just because I wanted to."

Emma rolled her eyes. Why had she run away already? She was about to give him a biting reply when she noticed he was already hardly dressed, the weak light of the candles dancing on his bare chest.

"Enjoy the view love?" It was not even a question.

"I've seen better," Emma simply said.

"I doubt that," Hook replied very seriously.

She heaved a heavy sigh. "And may I know what do you not doubt?"

Hook thought about it for a short moment. "I don't doubt you will not resist me an entire night when we are both sleeping in the same bed."

"Oh, are we now?" she scoffed.

The pirate frowned. "No indignation? No 'I shall never sleep with you disgusting pirate' ?"

She smiled, got up and started to undress, under the astonished eyes of a suddenly shy pirate.

"What are you doing?" he asked while she was taking off her corset.

"I'm soaked," she answered. "Plus a little fuck would totally warm me up."

Hook choked with surprise and chuckled. She had this very natural way to say such things. Like children who just say what they have on their minds. Except children do not say that. Well, they normally don't. "A little what?"he said, laughing.

"Now what? Captain Hook's a prude?"

"I'm not 'fucking' you princess."

Emma stopped undressing. "Why?" she asked, confused. "I know this look in your eyes. You want me. Why pretending you don't?"

"Because you don't want me."

"Seriously? And since when do men care about that?"

"Since you're a princess I've abducted in order to get a ransom," Hook scowled. "I don't play with food."

"Oh, I see, you're a professional pirate now. That's original, I have to admit it. But why sleeping with me then?"

"Precisely, because it's the professional thing to do."

With these last words, he took a rope out from his pocket and before Emma could open her mouth, he tied her wrist to his. "You've got to be kidding me!" she thundered.

"The only reason I sleep with you tonight is because I want to make sure you do not escape. And I could use some warmth too. Now, in the bed."

"Oh, in 'in the bed' in a commanding voice, chills," Emma retorted.

Hook grinned and jumped on the bed causing Emma to fall next to him. The young woman sighed heavily and tried to get under the sheets and the fur blanket as Hook did the same. "You're sleeping with your hook?" she asked.

"You don't trust me and I don't trust you either. So yes, I'm sleeping with my hook. And you'd better stay still if you don't want me to draw on your thighs."

"And you're being professional, obviously," Emma scoffed.

Hook cocked an eyebrow at her. "Shut up princess."

He blew out the candles on the bedside and fell into his original position. He was facing her, the valuable merchandise he had saved and healed. Her eyes were closed, but her breath was still fast. Their hands were tied together and lied between them, on the level of their heads. Hook congratulated himself for this brilliant idea. She couldn't escape without risking to wake him up, and his eyes were graced by her beauty.

In the dark of the room they lay, their breaths mingling, their wrists touching, as the cries of the wolves rose in the howling of the blizzard.

1Invention of mine. Musn't mean anything, but it should mean "land if magic" literally. Magic = draíocht

2 wiki/Rum

(1) Draiochtland : Invention of mine... Pretty lame x) It musn't mean anything, but it should mean "land of magic" taken literally. Magic = draíocht in Irish Gaelic.

(2) Chocolate : The first recorded shipment of chocolate to Europe for commercial purposes was in a shipment from Veracruz to Sevilla in 1585. (Wikipedia). But the Mesoamerican civilizations already used it!

(3) Rum : Coromines states 1651 as the first recording of "rumbullion", and 1654 for "rum" (Wikipedia)

A/N : I have NO idea why I included chocolate here. Maybe because I'm addicted to it, and because to me winter and cold means COCOA and chocolate. Also, it's aphrodisiac. But as you saw Emma doesn't need this... I'm trying to make use of the fact that Emma can't feel emotions so she's driven by what she PHYSICALLY feels. There will always be this paradox. She can feel... but she can't.

I couldn't help it, I wanted him to save her, even though it's super cliché. But it gave me Beauty & the Beast feels and he saved her from wolves, so also from himself in a way as he came to the ball as a lone wolf...

And a cookie for the ones who point out the reference to Les Misérables.

Thanks again for reading, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter! Your reviews mean a lot :)

Mel : Merci beaucoup ! Oui tout a explosé d'un coup, j'en avais besoin pour faire avancer l'histoire... Et à propos de la magie d'Emma, héhé, très bonne question (que je ne m'étais même pas posée pour être tout à fait honnête). Donc je ne sais pas, disons qu'en tout cas ce n'est pas exploité pour le moment...