Warnings;
. Swearing
. Sexual tension towards the end... I guess?
Anyway, enjoy the chapter!
"A curse? Seriously," Uma muttered with disappointment, twirling one of her long braids between her fingers.
"It's what the little one said," Harry said with a small shrug, shuffling around on the stool he currently sat on. "Ain't much use, is it?"
The teal-haired captain grumbled incoherently and rested her chin on her hand, the fingers of her left hand repeatedly drumming against the table as she thought.
Truthfully, the new information Harry had somehow obtained from Cassie wasn't of any use to her. All it explained was the little cat's reluctance to discuss the matter with them and why she'd gotten so touchy when Uma pressed her for an answer earlier. It didn't tell them who on the Isle had the magical capabilities of turning someone into an animal or, if Uma had to aim a little higher, take down the barrier itself.
Cassie didn't seem to know anyone on the Isle; that much Uma was certain of. After all, if the little cat did have someone, they'd have surely come for her by now. This meant that, since Cassie had inherited the curse from her dad, whoever had spelled the Cheshire Cat was somehow directly linked to the trickster himself. But Uma barely knew enough about Wonderland or the infamous Cheshire Cat, and she had no way of knowing who on the Isle would have a grudge against him. The only one she could think of was the Queen of Hearts, but surely if the psychotic woman had some magic in her, then she wouldn't be spending her days running a salon in the middle of the Isle. It just didn't make sense.
"She say anything else?" Uma asked the first mate.
Harry gave another shrug. "She said she hangs 'round with the witches."
"It can't be them," she told him, shaking her head. "Who in their right mind would spend time around the people that made them turn into a cat whenever they wanted to? Cassie's weird but she's not stupid."
Harry rolled his eyes but gave a small nod to show that he agreed with her statement.
"What time is it?" Uma wondered randomly.
"What are ye' on about?" Harry sighed. He was bored, and the fun he'd had with the little cat had only sustained him for so long.
The captain ignored his careless attitude toward her question and leaned forward, fiddling around with the pocket watch he had around his neck. She pushed down on the button and the charm popped open, a faint ticking reaching her ears.
"It's almost twelve," she uttered toward herself, clasping the charm back in place as she leaned away from Harry.
"An' yer point is?" Harry droned.
"If Cassie's under a curse then she's gonna turn back into a cat. It might happen at midnight," she explained.
"I don' think so. I chased 'er aroun' all mornin' when she was human, Uma. There's no way it's happenin' at midnight."
"You got someone watching her at least?"
He nodded. "Aye. I sent Gilly down there."
Uma raised her brows, slightly surprised Harry had decided that, out of all of them, the son of Gaston was the best to watch the prisoner. "That a good idea?" she inquired pointedly.
"Well, your way didn't work now, did it?" he said, and she glared. "An' I doubt she wants to see me after what I did. So," he breathed. "I reckon Gill's the best decision."
"By the way, what did you do?" She'd made damn sure before that Harry knew not to hurt Cassie too badly, but he'd left that ship looking like the cat that ate the canary, so to speak, and Uma was allowed to worry about how he handled the little cat. After all, Harry was quite the easy one to push, and from what Uma had experienced, it seemed Cassie was rather fond of finding the right button. Cassie was the only one she knew of that had magic, and even if it wasn't hers and it was just a 'punishment' of sorts, she was their only clue to finding the real spell caster.
In short, Cassie was useful. And worth more to them alive.
"I didn' hurt 'er, Uma," he assured, though the smug grin on his face made the captain think otherwise. "I just played with 'er a little."
"I've seen you 'play' with people, Harry. In more ways than one," Uma said, her nose wrinkling with a grimace as a certain memory drifted into her mind.
"Hmm, I remember," Harry chuckled. "But I swear to ye', Cap', I didn' touch her."
She nodded. "Good."
"Much."
"Harry!"
"Am I doing it right?"
"Huh? Oh! Yeah, like that."
Cassie nodded, her tongue lightly poking out of the side of her mouth as she attempted to focus on the 'game' Gil wanted them to play. 'Red Hands', he'd called it, and when she'd unabashedly admitted that she had no idea what it was, well, he'd been rather overjoyed to be the one to teach her.
After Harry had disappeared up top and left her to her own miserable devices, Cassie had, as expected, fallen into a dark hole of slight self-loathing and embarrassment. She'd vocally berated herself for falling into his 'trap', and she'd repeatedly and yelled at herself and her stupid 'habit' for getting her into this mess in the first place. After all, if she hadn't been idiotic enough to follow the pirates when the Isle turned upside down, she never would have snuck into Harry's bedroom and taken his beloved pocket watch. The little cat had gotten too cocky, it seemed, having not been caught by anyone before when she took her 'special things'. And her current situation was a firm—and surely implanted—reminder that one could never be too careful on the Isle.
When Gil had come strolling into the room, she'd been visibly surprised at his appearance. At first, she'd gone and assumed he was another one sent in to try and break her, but that thought had fled rather swiftly from her mind. She'd told Harry pretty much everything, though he'd retracted the other answers by himself and in his own mind, and Uma knew a little more than she should have. There was no reason for Gil to be down in the cells with her, and she'd eventually discovered that he was merely a watcher of sorts. He'd only been sent down to make sure she didn't turn into a cat and run, and speaking with her was not a necessity.
However, as time passed, Cassie somehow managed to slip into a rather simple conversation with him. Their earlier run-in had helped immensely since she had a small feeling he wouldn't hurt her unless someone directly told him to, and thus she had no true reason to fear him. And his childlike curiosity and happy-go-lucky attitude towards the entire situation settled her anxiety to a certain degree.
They'd shared small stories. Cassie told him that she lived alone, though she was careful not to specify the whereabouts, and that she had no other family apart from her estranged father. In return, Gil had rather easily told her that he lived with his father, Gaston, and older twin brothers, Gaston Jr. and Gaston the Third.
Only small topics were discussed, though some in greater detail than others. Favourite colours, for instance. Cassie explained to him that, despite her clothes and fur being black, the colour she adored was magenta since it reminded her of her father's furry stripes whenever he was in his feline form. Gil's answer had been orange, though he had no specific reason for it, just that he liked the way it looked on him.
The daughter of the Cheshire Cat had been alone for so long that she'd almost completely forgotten what it was like to have an actual conversation with another human being. Her father's rather abrupt and harsh abandonment had tortured her for so long, and she'd done her best to make sure she never felt that way again. But Gil's sudden appearance in her life, despite the unpleasant and chaotic situation surrounding their meeting, was a rather joyful reminder of the things she'd deprived herself of. In any other circumstance, she'd consider him a friend of sorts, but all he could be for her now was a playmate, and if she was lucky enough to escape Harry's clutches, then they wouldn't see each other again. It wasn't fair, but it was life.
So until Harry came back down to force something else from her lips she was going to enjoy this moment with Gil. Even if playing a strange game with him consisted of such.
"Okay, so, what do I do now?" Cassie inquired, her dark eyes flickering between her hands and Gil's gaze.
"I put my hands here." Gil placed his own hands directly beneath Cassie's, though instead of his being palms down, as Cassie's was, his faced up instead. "Now I have to slap the back of your hands, and you have to make sure that doesn't happen. Got it?"
"I-I think so," she stuttered in reply, her brows furrowed as she tried to make sense of this strange and seemingly pain-inflicting game. "Are there rules to this?"
He nodded. "Uh-huh. If you flinch or move your hands when I haven't moved mine, I get a free hit."
Cassie nodded in understanding. She knew it would take at least a few attempts for her to understand this thing completely; she just hoped he wouldn't hit her too hard.
"So, uh, how do we know who wins and who loses?" she asked.
"Uh," Gil rolled his eyes upwards for a small moment. "I dunno, you don't. You just go until someone taps out."
Cassie gave a small nod, her eyes wide with a slight apprehension. "O-kay."
And so it began. Easy and light at first, the backs of Cassie's hands only received a small slap that caused nothing but a slight itch. Gil was going easy on her since it was her first time, and she couldn't be more grateful for it. It at least gave her a bit of time to figure out just what she was getting herself into.
As the 'game' wore on, Cassie finally started to see why it was called 'Red Hands'.
With the air in the cells so cold, her fingers eventually began to feel the effects. She wasn't shaking just yet, but thanks to the icy temperature in the room, her skin was far more sensitive than usual. And when Gil's slaps started to get quicker, and with greater force, the backs of her hands became uncomfortably sore, a small grimace of pain twisting her facial features each time he managed to land a hit.
Cassie, thankfully, even got a few on him. But with her arms so awkwardly bent, her speed was somewhat slowed. And his hands barely held a mark when compared to hers.
"Okay!" the little cat eventually exclaimed, quickly retracting her arms back into the safety of the cell. "You win."
"Hah, cool!" Gil yelled with excitement, placing his own hands on his lap. "I never win."
Cassie couldn't help but giggle through her pain, her left hand gently and soothingly stroking the back of her right.
Truthfully, both hands hurt, but her right had taken more punishment than the other, since she'd taken extra caution earlier on to tie the nasty wound decorating her left palm. She'd need a new dress, but at least she wasn't risking any more damage to the already irritated area.
"Who the hell taught you that game?" she wondered, a small part of her harshly judging whoever had thought it a good idea to teach the son of Gaston such a horrid 'game'.
"Harry," was Gil's simple reply.
"Why am I not surprised," Cassie muttered with slight distain.
"Huh?"
"Nothing," she assured with a small smile. "So, uh, does he always win?"
"Uh-huh. No one's ever beat him before, and people stopped playing when we got older. More important things to do, I guess."
The little cat sighed as she took note of the rather disheartened tone in his voice, something oddly unfamiliar tugging at her chest.
Gil was a rather odd one to figure out, especially for her, but when Cassie talked to him, she soon sussed out just how different he was from the others she'd met on the Isle. Physically, he was every inch a pirate, from the mustard-coloured hat on his head to the thick brown boots on his feet, and she didn't need to play another 'game' with him to know just how strong he was. But his mind was much, much different. Like a child, he enjoyed attention, but not in the way the other guys and girls on the Isle did. For him, it was an instant friendship of sorts. And from what she'd gathered so far, no one seemed to want to do these childlike things with him.
She couldn't quite blame any of the pirates for not wanting to indulge Gil's childish tendencies. After all, they were all teenagers now, and life on the Isle was everything but 'safe' and 'fun'. They all had their own shit to deal with, and as much as she loathed the pirates right now, she wouldn't ever hate them for wanting to get on with their own lives and daily tasks.
"Well, I liked playing with you," Cassie spoke up.
"Really?" he inquired, his utter surprise at her announcement dampening her spirits.
"Yeah," she assured him, a timid, and rather happy, smile tugging at her lips as a wide grin stretched across his face.
"I like playing with you too," he told her. "It just sucks, yah know, since Harry's gonna kill you."
If her good mood hadn't been completely tarnished before, then it certainly was now. She'd almost forgotten about Harry and whatever plans he had in mind for her, and Gil's words were a startling reminder of just how much shit she was still in. She knew she had to find some way to get out of the pirate's territory, but offering her services to Uma wasn't a high guarantee of freedom, and there was no way in hell she was going to follow the captain's earlier remark and 'get on her knees' for Harry. She had to find another way—a simpler way.
"Yeah, that does suck," Cassie said slowly, an overexaggerated sigh of despair passing through her lips. "But I'm sure there's a way for me to get out of here, right?"
The blonde pirate stared back at Cassie with utter confusion. "How?"
"I don't know. Maybe you could let me out?" she suggested casually, a small feeling of hope weaving its way through her chest.
"Y-you're asking me to let you escape?" he inquired, seemingly hurt and upset that she would ask something so big of him.
Cassie vehemently shook her head. "No!" she exclaimed, attempting to bounce back from the dead end she'd suddenly run into. "I would never ask you to do that."
'Liar.'
The little cat ignored her inner voice, her eyes rolling skyward as soon as Gil averted his eyes. Of course, asking him to let her go was stupid. He wasn't as clever or as quick to catch on as she suspected the others were, but he was loyal, and if she was going on what Uma had told her earlier about the crew, then none of them would eagerly jump at the opportunity to betray their captain.
"There has to be a way for me to get out of here in a fair way," she implored, quieting her voice. "What do prisoners usually do when a pirate catches them?"
Gil didn't answer right away, and for a small moment, Cassie felt her hope slowly dwindling with each passing second. But eventually, he answered her.
"There's parley," he muttered, so quiet she barely heard it.
"What's that?"
"You get taken by one of us; you say 'parley' and we take you to talk to the captain."
Cassie sighed. "I've already talked to Uma. Is there another way?"
"Uh," he dragged out his word, eyes rolling once again as he racked his brain for an answer to give her. "Yeah!" he exclaimed loudly, causing the little cat to flinch.
"O-kay," she stuttered, placing a hand on her startled heart. "What is it?"
The blonde pirate averted his gaze, his lips pursed as he lightly knocked his knuckles against the wooden floor. He mumbled something, his voice so low that Cassie couldn't even make a single word out. Whatever he was attempting to tell her, he didn't seem quite eager for her to know, and a tiny fraction of Cassie felt a little guilty for pushing him so hard with this.
"Gil, c'mon, you can tell me," she urged, sweetening her tone in a way she hadn't ever had to before.
"Okay, I'll tell you. But you can't tell Harry," he warned, and Cassie nodded her head vigorously.
"I won't tell, I promise."
Gil gave a small sigh and glanced behind him, double-checking to ensure no one was coming down the stairs before he turned back to face her. "Okay." He scooted forward, dragging his behind against the floor as he came closer to the bars.
With a slight twinge of anxiety in her stomach, Cassie warily mirrored the blonde pirate in front of her, carefully pressing herself up against the cell as he leaned his head down.
"You can challenge the pirate that took you."
"I...uh," Cassie fumbled over her words as she repeated Gil's reluctant confession. "What?"
"Yeah, I've seen it happen before. Once or twice."
"No, I understand. I think. But what do you mean? How do I challenge Harry?"
"Well, um, you have to find something you can both do," he began to explain. "Uma likes to arm wrestle-"
"Are you kidding me?!" Cassie quietly exclaimed, cutting him off mid-explanation. "I can't arm wrestle Harry, have you seen the muscles on that guy?! He'll tear my fricking hand off!"
"No, no, you don't get it. It can be anything. As long as it's just a one-on-one thing, and there has to be someone there to judge and make sure people play fair."
The little cat scoffed. "Fair? On the Isle? Please." She sucked in a breath and began to weave her fingers through her waist-length hair, untangling the knots as she thought. "So, if I wanted to challenge Harry to a game of 'Red Hands'-"
The son of Gaston shook his head violently, his eyes wide with immense warning. "Don't do that."
"Gil, look at me," she demanded, throwing her arms out to the side as she gestured towards her body. "I can't possibly arm-wrestle Harry. And I can't fight him with a sword. And I don't know any other game; all I know is the one you taught me. It's my only option to get out alive."
When the pirate continuously shook his head, almost rejecting what she was trying to tell him, Cassie pressed on.
"I can't stay here, Gil," she told him, her head tilting to the side. "My freedom is the one thing I have—the one thing that's mine. Can't you understand that?" She lifted her head and took in the four walls caging her in, small tears pooling in the corners of her eyes at the very thought of this room being the last thing she'd ever see.
Gil frowned and stroked the nape of his neck. "I guess," he breathed, a twist of disappointment in his tone. "But Harry's not very fun to play with."
"I know," Cassie said back, moving her shoulders into a small shrug. "And I don't care. If there's a chance I can win and get out of here, I should take it, right?" She wasn't asking for his opinion on the matter. In truth, she was going to go through with this whether he liked it or not. She couldn't give up her freedom—not for anyone.
"You really wanna do it?" Gil asked, his brows raised with absolute questioning.
"Yeah. I do."
"Alright," he droned, moving around to get to his feet.
"Wait, Gil," Cassie called, using the bars to pull herself up.
"Yup?" he said in reply, looking back over his shoulder as he kept one foot on the bottom step.
"Thank you for everything." The little cat hoped with every fibre of her being that the blonde-haired pirate knew what she was thanking him for. It wasn't just because he'd given her a fifty/fifty chance of escaping this dreaded cell. He hadn't been forced to show her kindness when she was in her feline form, and neither had anyone told him to speak to her while he was guarding her. All of that he'd done because he wanted to, and Cassie knew with certainty that she wouldn't forget it anytime soon.
Much to Cassie's upset, all Gil did was give her a nod and a small smile with no trace of joy behind it and continue up the stairs.
Uma blew a breath of relief as she leaned back against one of the many rickety tables in her mom's Shoppe, her hands moving behind her back to untie the dirty-white apron. She tossed it behind her with a grimace and sluggishly walked forward, slumping into her 'throne' with a loud grunt. She let her eyes slowly drift closed, a wave of profuse fatigue weighing her down in the chair.
'Finally,' she thought, the familiar lullaby of the rushing waves just outside of the Shoppe soothing her into a state of relaxation. It didn't matter that she'd been doing this waitressing job since she learned to walk; she'd long since figured out that every time the place closed and her crew went home to sleep, she'd get the same feeling she did on her first day. A rush of relief and overwhelming joy—well, as much joy as the daughter of a sea witch could have anyway.
"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me."
The teal-haired captain opened one eye, her gaze zeroing in on the first mate. He was stretched out above the main counter, his long legs dangling off the edge as he sang, rather off-key, a tune she was very familiar with.
Ever since they'd become friends, and they'd finally learned to trust each other, Harry always stayed long after the customers had gone. Back in their younger days, she'd questioned it, a small part of her curious to know why he'd want to stick around in the foul-smelling Chip Shoppe when he could just as easily go home to his father's ship, and it wasn't until she made the mistake of going to find him one day that she truly found out why.
However, even after he left his violent father and set up home in The Lost Revenge, he continued to stay with her, hanging around her mother's Shoppe until Uma told him otherwise. But at this point, she simply assumed he was running on routine, staying late into the night or early morning because he was used to it, and it was comfortable for him. Either way, she had no complaints since, more often than not, his presence was always welcome.
"You alright there?" Uma asked, struggling to keep her eyes open.
"Aye," Harry said in reply, his arms hanging down beside him. "Jus' thinkin'."
"That's a dangerous pastime," she chuckled.
"Ye're preachin' to the choir here, Cap'."
Uma sighed and got to her feet, moving closer towards Harry. "We need a plan, y'know," she told him, crossing her arms above the table to the right side of his head. "For Cassie."
"Can' we just' keep 'er locked up for a bit?" he groaned with an exasperated sigh.
"No, we need a plan," she said firmly, glaring down at her first mate even though he couldn't see it. "She's gonna turn into a cat at some point, and it'll be pretty easy for her to get out of here when she does."
Harry reluctantly opened his eyes. "Ye' stress too much, Uma. If she does turn back, we can just catch 'er."
"Have you ever tried to catch a cat?" Uma said pointedly, and he rolled his eyes.
"'Ave you?" he countered, a huff of annoyance flying through his lips as Uma's glare hardened. "Alright, I see yer point."
"Look, someone on this Isle is using magic. They used it to curse Cassie, and right now she's our only clue. We keep Cassie locked up, we find the person who put the curse on her daddy, and maybe we convince them to take the barrier down. Got it?" She didn't enjoy using her 'captain voice' on Harry, especially since she always thought of them as equals, but every so often the situation called for it, and right now she had a much bigger picture in mind than just a silly little cat with father problems. She just had to get that fact through Harry's thick skull as well.
The first mate nodded his head. "I understan', Uma, I do." He raised his right hand to gently grasp her wrist, his light eyes keeping steady contact with her dark ones. "I'll figure somethin' out, alright?" It wasn't a good answer, but it was an answer none the less.
The doors to the Shoppe creaked open, and both the captain and first mate looked back.
"Gil," Uma noted with aggravation. "What the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be guarding the prisoner."
"Yeah," Gil muttered in reply, a small grimace crossing his face as he nervously scratched his cheek. "About that..."
Uma took a step back from Harry, her arms crossed against her chest as she stared hard at her friend. From the corner of her eye, she saw Harry sit up straight, the first mate resting his elbows on his thighs as he tilted his head in Gil's direction.
"She, uh, well, she wants to-" Gil stuttered and mumbled the ending of his sentence, his words completely jumbled and inaudible to his friend's ears.
"Speak up, kid," Uma demanded lightly, the fingers of her left hand raising to soothe her temples.
"She wants to challenge Harry."
The room fell into an awkward and unbearable silence. Uma dropped her hand at Gil's announcement, her brows practically meeting her hairline as a shock of utter astonishment grasped her body. Her jaw dropped and she swiftly turned her head to see Harry's reaction, a small twinge of fear erupting in her stomach as she saw the large and highly menacing grin on his face.
"Harry-"
"Well, things just got interestin'," the first mate said loudly, interrupting the warning he was sure to receive from his captain. He jumped down from the table, his boots hitting the floor with a loud 'thud'. "What am I being' challenged to?"
Gil shuffled from foot to foot, his fingers wringing together as Harry stalked forward. "I, uh, well... I showed her one of our games," the son of Gaston admitted, averting his gaze when the hooked pirate stood right in front of him.
"Which one?" Harry inquired, somewhat ignorant of the antsy movements of the boy before him.
"Harry," Uma started once again, hastily walking forward to grasp his left bicep. "We need her."
Gil twisted the bull ring around his index finger. "I didn't mean to, but we got to talking and she said she never played it before." In true Gil fashion, he was completely misreading this situation. He thought Harry and Uma were mad with him that he'd taught Cassie how to play 'Red Hands', when in reality neither could care less. The little cat knowing one of their 'games' meant absolutely nothing, but to challenge someone like Harry with them—well, it wasn't the smartest decision one could take.
"Gilly boy," Harry said, moving his head to the side to catch Gil's eyes. "Which. Game?"
Gil's eyes flickered over Harry's shoulder, his gaze meeting Uma's. His reluctance to tell Harry just which game he'd taught the little cat, along with the small twist of fear he tried so hard to translate to her through facial expressions alone, made the Captain's eyes widen comically.
"Gil-"
"Red Hands."
Uma winced as Gil pushed his answer with, apparently, an insane amount of inner strength. Her warning hadn't even touched him, he'd been too focused on the red pirate stood way too close to even pay attention to what she was saying. But it didn't matter now; The answer was out.
The silence in the room was quickly demolished, with Harry's excited chuckle practically echoing through the space.
"Oh, this is wonderful," he exclaimed loudly. "The little kitty wants to play with me, does she?"
All Gil could seem to do was nod his head, his confirmation enlarging Harry's oddly delighted expression at the revelation. The son of Hook took large steps back, bouncing on his feet as he removed his favourite red coat.
Uma stayed silent, her mind frantically searching for an answer to this sudden predicament. She couldn't stop the challenge, it was a large part of the pirate's code, and she wouldn't dare question it. The captain could only assume Cassie had no idea what she was getting herself into, because if she did know, then she really was insane.
Challenges in the pirate community weren't uncommon. They were quite a regular occurrence, especially when two pirates had something against each other. But usually, these challenges involved swords or fists; the two pirates battled it out until one was forced to concede or, in rare cases, die. The challenges were brutal, bloody, and a bitch to clean, especially if they took place inside. However, their challenges were the easiest ways to settle disputes on this side of the Isle, and when the dual was done, it was well and truly done. There was no talk of revenge after; there were no large groups backing the loser and taking down the winner when their backs were turned. It was done fairly, or at least as fairly as the pirates could manage.
Challenging someone to a game of 'Red Hands', however, was far from normal. It was a kid's game, something the younger pirates did to pass the time. Hell, Uma could clearly remember herself playing it with Harry when they were growing up. But it wasn't the thought of Cassie challenging him to a stupid game that had Uma's nerves on edge; it was the fact that the little cat had, rather foolishly, thought she could take on Harry with it after a few small plays with Gil. Where Gil played simply for the fun of it all, Harry's intentions swayed a little darker.
The teal-haired V.K. turned, her frustration rising when she saw Harry sitting down at one of the tables she'd just cleaned, his red coat hanging neatly down the back of his chair.
"Go fetch the little cat," Harry called out to Gil, the blonde-haired pirate hovering anxiously near the door. As soon as he was given the demand, he left, apparently in no way eager to remain in the Shoppe with Harry when he was so... high-spirited.
When Gil was gone, Uma finally let loose, stomping her way over to Harry with a great fire in her dark eyes.
"Uma-"
"No," she spat, her palms coming down on the table with a loud 'bang'. "We need her, Harry. You know that. She's our only way to find the person with magic. Don't you get that?!" Her fury was unyielding, her desire to find the spell-caster clashing with the pirate codes she'd willingly engraved into her mind at such a young age.
"This is bigger than that, Uma," Harry replied. "It's not some little plan, this is code. I can't jus' turn 'er challenge away, not even for you."
They stared each other down for a minute or two, neither pirate blinking at the risk of losing to the other. But in the end, it was Harry who bowed down, the first mate looking away with a shake of his head.
"We can't let her go, Harry," Uma stressed, her anger lessening as each moment passed. "We need her."
"I told ye' before an' I'll tell ye' again; ye' have to have faith in me, Cap'. Have I ever lost a game?" He asked, and Uma shook her head. "No, I haven't. I won't lose this one either."
Uma couldn't deny that he made a good point in all of this. He hadn't ever lost a challenge. But the small chance of Cassie winning the game and gaining her freedom wasn't what concerned Uma, it was Harry's darker impulse to cause as much pain as possible that truly had the Captain so agitated. They needed Cassie alive and well, and if the little cat was missing a hand, well, it certainly wouldn't work in their favour.
"Don't hook her too hard," Uma told him, her eyes flickering to the weapon he always kept firmly clenched in his left hand.
"Ye' stress too much, Uma," Harry tutted with a playful smile. "When we win, she'll have no choice but to 'elp. An' she won't be able to run either."
Cassie wasn't too sure how to feel when Gil took her out of the cells. There seemed to be such a mixture of emotions going on that she could barely pinpoint the most extreme. First had been a relief—that much she knew—a breath of overwhelming gratitude passing through her lips the moment he unlocked the cell door. But that had only lasted a minute or two since the moment she stepped a foot out, her new 'friend' had stood there with a thick and long piece of rope in his hands, an apologetic look upon his face as he bound her wrists together.
The second thing she'd felt had been nausea, the bile rising at the back of her throat the moment he walked her out. Whether it was the fact she now knew they'd been keeping her in the poor excuse of a pirate ship, where she could have easily drowned if the rickety piece of wood decided to give way, or if it was the idea that she'd have to cross over that damned bridge again, she wasn't sure. Either way, being this close to the unpredictable waters was severely enlarging her anxiety and making it that much harder to think about what she was doing.
As they got moving, Cassie kept up with Gil's large strides with no problem, but her feelings seemed to spin into disarray. Whether she wanted to or not, she was going to have to follow the son of Gaston, simply because he'd had the good sense to tie her hands. She liked him, but if he hadn't done so she'd have disappeared by now. She was outside, but she wasn't free just yet, and that unsettled her the most.
They passed through the marketplace, her dark eyes focusing on nothing in particular since she could barely see without the use of her feline senses, and soon turned a corner. Thankfully, this part of the Isle had numerous lanterns, illuminating the path and the large building a few paces ahead.
"Are you okay?"
Cassie stared at the back of Gil's head. "I guess so," she muttered in reply, though her lack of enthusiasm was rather obvious.
The creaks in the floorboards grew louder, and Cassie looked down, her eyes widening with slight fear as she saw the water moving through the gaps in the wood, and she lifted her head quickly, her stomach churning as she attempted to keep contact with the building Gil seemed to be leading her to.
When the blonde-haired pirate stopped, so did she, her curious gaze roaming the outside of the rundown building. There was nothing impressive about it; to her, it was just another shitty place on the Isle. The only difference was that this particular place had numerous pirates passed out around its edges, empty glass bottles of something or other held firmly in their hands.
"Here we are," Gil announced quietly, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
The little cat chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes quickly scanning over the large sign above the place. 'Ursula's fish & chips,' it read, a few small bulbs lighting up the sign.
"I shouldn't say it, because Harry would kill me, but good luck," Gil told her with a small, saddened shrug.
"Thank you," Cassie breathed, though her brows furrowed as he waved his arm in a motion to go on in front. "You're not coming?"
The pirate shook his head. "Nu-uh. I don't like to watch." He ended his sentence with yet another shrug and then sat down on the step near her feet.
"Gil, what's wrong?" It was more than obvious he was worried about her, and she could see that her urge to leave and go home had upset him, but Cassie could sense that there was more to this situation than he was telling her. After all, he'd taught her 'Red Hands' himself, and though the game was a little painful, it wasn't downright brutal, so she couldn't understand why he would much rather stay outside in the fog and eerie silence.
"Harry's not fun to play with," was his simple and mumbled response.
He'd said that to her earlier, in the cells. 'Harry isn't fun to play with,'. She'd assumed it was because Harry was a cheat, or maybe he slapped a little harder than Gil was comfortable with, but to hear it again was a different thing. It was like there was an underlying warning in what he was telling her—that what he wanted to say was either a secret or that it scared him so much he couldn't bear to speak it. Whatever it was, she couldn't think too hard about it now. Now she had much bigger things in mind.
"Well," Cassie sighed, taking slow steps towards the entrance. "I guess I'll see you around."
The very moment she pushed the doors open with her bound hands and came further into the pirate den, Cassie found herself utterly surprised. All in all, she'd expected hollers or yelling, or for the unfamiliar diner to be filled to the brim with pirates eagerly hanging onto the edge of their seats to watch the challenge between herself and the hooked pirate. But there were none. She was greeted by nothing but silence, the creaking beneath her feet the only sound to reach her ears.
"Hello, kitty, kitty."
Despite the fact that she was severely outnumbered right now, Cassie couldn't withhold the hum of displeasure at Harry's greeting. For whatever reason, he appeared to be sticking with it, and she had no doubts in her mind that this wouldn't be the last time she'd hear it.
"Hook," she greeted curtly, her curious habits restraining her from looking at him until she'd fully analysed her surroundings.
The diner itself was rather interesting. It didn't quite differ from the Slop Shop, though; both had numerous tables and chairs, shelves filled with random objects she had no desire to know the contents of, and messily scribbled signs hanging dangerously from the walls. To her right, she spotted a long table surrounded by high stools and a dusty TV resting on a larger shelf near the main counter. And when she looked to her left, she found a decently sized platform of sorts, much like a stage, with a musical instrument quite similar to a piano near the back wall. However, what made it stick out most were the obvious tags and signs of pirate territory: the rather impressive artwork of ships on the wall, the wheels used to steer pirate ships, hung neatly, and countless shells and clams stuck firmly to the walls and beams.
What made it so fascinating to the little cat, though, was the strips of teal and blue fabric dangling down from the ceiling. The shimmering pieces of cloth were highlighted by the small twinkling lights trailing along the ceiling and walls, giving them a beautiful and glowing kind of appearance.
"I see yer likin' the decoratin'," Harry noted with mirth.
Cassie blinked and shook her head, the red pirate's voice bringing her back down to earth, and she stumbled to find a retort. "I've seen better." A lie, and they both knew it.
"Back to business then," he grunted as he fidgeted in his chair, somewhat irritated at the fact she'd been so outright to insult his 'home'.
The little cat nodded, her apprehension heightening as she watched him stand from his chair and slowly come closer. "So you accept, then?" she inquired, mentally praising herself for keeping her voice steady and free of fear.
"Cassie, Cassie," Harry sang, his tone admonishing, as though she were a child and he the elder. "Are ye' sure ye' wanna do this?" Even when he stood a small foot in front of her, it didn't seem to be close enough for him, and Cassie struggled to keep a straight face as he completely burst her bubble once again.
"Yes, I do," she stated firmly. She kept her eyes steady on his chest, barely covered by the torn white shirt he wore.
As soon as he stopped moving, her dark eyes flickered up beneath her lashes, a small part of her eager to know what he was feeling or thinking. But her attempts at sussing him out were futile, it seemed, since all he gave her in return was utter indifference. There was no smirk this time, and no large grin to compete with that of her fathers. He was completely relaxed and unreadable, and it unsettled her greatly.
The air was stifling, Cassie's formerly chilled skin heating up at the hooked pirate's proximity. To say she was scared would be an understatement; She was downright terrified. Of his hook, of his strength, of his insanity—everything. Every single part of Harry sent her red flags of warning sky-high, her rational thought yelling at her to run and go home. But by some strange means of strength, she stayed.
"Ye' know," Harry whispered, lifting his hook to draw a thin white line across her throat. "I kind'a like yer persistence, love."
There it was—the side of Harry she'd been anticipating. His silver tongue oozed charm and hidden intentions, each slippery sentence aimed to sway her thoughts and decisions in his favour. He'd obviously done this before, if his complete confidence in this moment was anything to go by, and Cassie silently wondered if any other person had survived his attempts.
'Unlikely,' she thought, her fingers frantically twisting the edges of her hair. She was clever sometimes, and she was far from oblivious or naïve, but even Cassie couldn't deny that if she'd met him in the middle of the Isle and hadn't seen his wicked ways, she'd be tempted by him. He was everything anyone on the Isle wanted in their 'other half', so to speak. But Cassie loved her freedom, and more than that, she sometimes enjoyed only having to look out for herself, but if she gave into him now, she'd have it all ripped from underneath her feet, and she couldn't let that happen.
"We could 'have lots o' fun, you an' me," he said, lightly caressing her cheek with the smooth body of his hook. "I can teach ye' everythin' yer dad never did." The grin she was slowly becoming familiar with stretched across his face once again, his eyes somehow darkening as hers grew wide with intrigue. "How to fight, how to terrify. Whatever ye' wanna know, love, I'll teach ye'."
The little cat couldn't help but let his overly sweet words into her head. She knew he was playing her somehow, just as he did when she was locked up on the ship, but the part of her that longed to have someone by her side was sneakily taking over, clouding her logical thoughts with ones she hadn't quite thought of before.
'No, Cassie,' her mind warned, fighting hard to get her back to her original task.
"C'mon Cassie," Harry drawled, bending himself to meet her eyes. "I know ye' don't like bein' on yer own, love. I saw it in yer eyes earlier when we had that nice chat." 'Nice' wasn't exactly how she'd put it, but the damned pirate didn't give her enough time to properly recollect their earlier conversation. "I can help ye' get outta the shadows, love. Don't ye' want that?" A small pressure came down against her ribs, and when Cassie quickly looked down she found it to be his other hand, the one she'd stupidly made the mistake of ignoring since she found it didn't scare her as much as the other.
A small tightening wound her stomach the second his fingers started to move up, his hard, but not entirely uncomfortable, grip enhancing the odd mixture of emotions he'd suddenly laid out for her.
"I don't care about yer curse, Cassie." Her eyes shot upwards at his bold statement, a small wave of sadness wracking her frame at the very mention of her 'problem'. "We can find' ways around it, I'm sure," he said quietly, raising a single brow in a rather suggestive manner. "Oh, the things I could teach ye'," he groaned, more to himself than to her, but she heard it loud and clear either way.
'Oh. No.'
The hand Cassie had somehow managed to forget about again had slithered its way up her sides and around her back, his ring-clad fingers now gently stroking the nape of her neck. It was her weak spot as a cat, and whenever the witches even managed to rub it, her senses flew straight through the window, all thoughts and inhibitions crumbling to dust the second someone managed to catch her there. But even when she was her normal, human self, it still held the same effect, and she loathed herself for not keeping a closer watch on the hooked pirate.
Without giving much thought to her mindless actions, Cassie tilted her head back against his still-moving fingers, unsure of whether she should let him continue or stop it. With her neck bare and a flush of pink colouring her cheeks, she found her face even closer to Harry's. His grin had dimmed to a simple twitch at the corners of his lips, but his eyes had darkened to the point where she had to properly focus to see the blue.
'Good,' she thought, somewhat grateful to know she wasn't the only one losing her shit in this situation.
"Say somethin', love," he muttered with a plead, his thumb stroking her jawline as he affectionately nuzzled his nose against hers.
"What do you want from me, Harry?" Cassie found the strength to reply, her voice barely a whisper as his actions boiled her brain into a puddle, rendering her unable to form a single, coherent thought.
"I just' want one thing from ye', Cassie." He ran his tongue across his lips, moving his mouth to hover agonisingly near her ear. "One thing, and' that's it. I'll give ye' everythin' and more after." His voice was quiet and deep, and the hairs along her arms raised as she shivered. "I wanna know who cursed yer dad."
Just like that, the moment was gone. As fast as lightning, it felt like he'd dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over her head, shocking her from the head down, and Cassie blanched the second she saw through the sickeningly sweet haze he'd sent her into.
The little cat sucked in a large breath of air, her body fuelled with complete outrage. Harry didn't care about her or how she felt when she was stuck alone at Bargain Castle. All of this, his smooth touches and promising words, were done with a very clear goal in mind, and she'd been idiotic enough to let him weave his way into her head.
'Damn hormones,' she scolded, her lips pursing as she thought about the amount of control she'd willingly relinquished to him only seconds ago.
Purely running on a rush of adrenaline and her unwavering anger, Cassie gripped Harry's neck with both hands, her fingernails digging into his skin as she pushed her body away from his. It irritated her how amused he seemed even now, the dark glint she'd seen in his eyes back in full swing. He didn't seem surprised she'd figure him out, and she wanted him dead just for that alone.
"I challenge you, Harry Hook, to a game of 'Red Hands'. I win; you let me leave this place. Alive."
Harry chuckled tauntingly, unbothered by the death grip she had on his throat. "An' what do I get when I win, love?" he asked.
"If you win," she breathed, reluctantly releasing her hold on him. "You can have whatever you want from me. Answers included."
AN;
Hello wonderful readers!
Right, so, this chapter was a bit erratic I suppose. I wanted there to be a friendly kind of moment between Gil and Cassie, mainly because Gil's adorable and needs some spotlight in my stories. And as for the ending...well, I really like writing the Cassie/Harry scenes.
I feel like I should point out that Cassie's dad is based on the 1950's Cheshire Cat in appearance, but I do love the Cheshire Cat in the live-action version so I may try and cross them together, if that makes sense.
Review Acknowledgement Time;
DeansGirl9742; I'm so glad you like my writing, I've been trying to improve it a lot over the years and I still see a few glitches sometimes, so it means a lot that you enjoy it. And I do try and update every four or five days, though it may take longer if I'm particularly stumped on a chapter.
StrawberryNeko7; I'm so happy you liked the chapter! Obviously this is a T+ story, so there will be a lot of hormonal-issues coming into play here. And as for the pirates seeing Cassie turn...well, I'm not sure when that'll appear, but it will be happening eventually.
Arkytior's Song; I'm so glad you're enjoying the story!
Lola Vegas; :D :D :D
X Blue Eyed Demon X; Thank you!
mollichine; I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter. And honestly I love writing flirt-Harry, it's weird but kind of fun in a way.
Anyway, please leave a review or PM to let me know what you thought of this chapter, and also if you have any questions and stuff. And much, much love to everyone who've favourited and Followed also!
Thanks!
(Any typos or misspells will be removed once I've had a proper read through.)