"The Dark One?" the woman asks, her brows knit together in confusion, utterly oblivious to the trap that she has just unwittingly led them into. "What's the Dark One?"
Killian's eyes narrow as he scans the forest, and suddenly there he is standing before them, the unnatural, human embodiment of a crocodile that had killed the love of his life right before his eyes. The creature's golden eyes light up in glee as he sees him, and Killian feels his heart clench. The lady notices him and a strangled scream escapes her throat, her hand coming up to cover her mouth in a futile attempt to stifle the sound. Killian doesn't blame her.
"I am the Dark One, dearie," Rumpelstiltskin almost sings, the sound enough to make the hair on the back of Hook's neck stand on end. "Rumpelstiltskin, at your service." He gives an exaggerated, theatrical bow, and the woman backs up a step, one hand still clutching her mouth in horror. Whatever realm she is from, Killian is certain she hasn't encountered anything like the Dark One before. His hand clenches around his sword hilt, ready to defend her if that monster has any ideas of harming her.
Over my dead body.
Protect the lady, and perhaps get the chance to enact his revenge at the same time. Maybe today wasn't such a waste after all.
The imp takes a step towards her, and she flinches away—the first time Killian has seen her show genuine fear since he first saw her. "And who might you be?" Rumpelstiltskin asks, that musical lilt still in his voice. "You're a long way from home, aren't you, dearie? A stranger in a strange land…"
She raises her head, looking down at him with as much haughtiness as she can muster. "I…I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, but you do," Rumpelstiltskin coos at her. "You're a very long ways away from home, aren't you? Far from home in a foreign land…maybe a land without magic?" His voice is as hesitant as it is mischevious, as if he's waiting for confirmation of what he already knows and yet not daring to hope, and Killian frowns.
The way the woman's eyes widen confirms his suspicions, and he sees a grin stretch across the Dark One's face, showing a flash of ruined teeth. "I thought so," he whispers, making a shiver crawl down Killian's spine. "What's your name, dearie?"
He takes another step towards her, hand outstretched, and suddenly it is not her that Killian sees but another brunette beauty in danger of the Dark One's wrath. A savage cry lodges itself in his throat and he reaches for his sword, ready to defend this woman the way he couldn't defend her…
"Not so fast!" Rumpelstiltskin crows, and with a wave of his hand Killian finds himself immobilized. The woman stares at him with wide, frightened eyes, unable to comprehend why the man who has been tormenting her is suddenly unable to move. Killian watches, helpless, as the Imp stretches his hand out to her again, hooking his index finger under her chin.
"I asked you for your name."
Her mask of bravado falls, and for a moment Killian sees her looking vulnerable and lost and so scared that it makes his already-hardened heart clench in his chest. "Lady Mary Crawley," she says softly, her tone subdued now but still with a hint of her usual haughty air.
Mary. It suits her, somehow.
"Mary," the Dark One repeats, another smile spreading across his face. "Poor little dear, all alone in this strange place…a place you don't understand. How would you like to go back?"
She is silent.
"Would you?"
A whisper. "Yes."
"I thought so. It just so happens that I can help you there…if we make a little deal."
No. The word is stuck just behind Killian's lips, begging to break through, but the spell is too strong. He is powerless, he is silent…he is screaming on the inside.
Mary. Milah. Not again.
"What sort of a deal?" she asks carefully, backing away just a step. She is clever, Killian has to give her that. She knows better than to enter into a deal with the likes of him, no matter how badly she wants to go home.
"We have something in common. I, too, want to go to the Land Without Magic. To do that, though, I need a very particular item…one that you must find. Do that, and I'll send you home—if you take me with you. What do you say to that, dearie?"
Her brown eyes flicker back to Killian's, and he tries to shake his head, but the spell still holds strong. He can only hope that his eyes are telling her what she needs to know—that its a trick, that the Imp cannot be trusted, that she's making a terrible mistake…
"What sort of thing do I need to find?" she asks, and Killians heart sinks.
The Dark One gives her his most sinister smile yet. "Beans," he says simply. "Magic beans."