Like Ships In The Night (you keep passing me by) (5/?)
Enchanted Forest AU-Princess Emma does a reverse Cinderella and meets a Captain in a tavern instead of a Prince at a ball. It should have been a one-time thing but fate had other plans and they just keep meeting. Originally a one-shot birthday fic for @spartanguard but now a full on multichapter Extra thanks to @phiralovesloki for being a stellar and fast beta!
5.2k | T | FF.net | AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
The woods were darker than Emma had expected. Clouds obscured the moon and stars and the trees were little more than shadows against the black. It was the kind of night that called for curling up by a fire, not tromping through the forest looking for an escaped pirate.
There was a pull on her wrist from the black fabric wrapped around it. Emma adjusted her direction, trusting the locator magic to lead her through the darkness. She fingered the rough cotton in the dark. The scarf Hook had used to keep her from calling Elsa's guards hadn't been a bad idea but with a locator potion added, it had become Emma's personal pirate finder. Her father and his knights had clattered off toward the port assuming, as Emma had, that the pirate would commandeer a ship. By the time she had poured out the potion, it was too late to tell them that Captain Hook had fled to the forest and not the sea. Determined not to let him get too far away, Emma had set off at a gallop on a horse only to abandon it when the scarf pulled her into the deep woods.
She didn't know where Hook was going, only that, once again, he had betrayed her. This time she was going to throw him in the dungeon where he belonged, where her father had wanted him to be from the beginning. Her mistake had been to think that she understood him, that because they had both been hurt by love they were similar. She had thought that his encounter with the Dark One had changed him, made him recognize the futility of his vengeance, made him want to be a part of something. She thought she had sensed it that night in her room and later in the council chamber, but she had been wrong. After Neal and Walsh, she should have known better, but the damn pirate had made her forget herself and forget the lesson she knew all too well–the only people she can trust is her family.
Suddenly the pull on her wrist stopped and Emma paused in confusion. Then she heard the crack of a twig from behind and on instinct, she ducked. The momentum of her attacker took him over her body and to the ground. In a flash, Emma was on top and sliding up to pin his biceps with her knees. She put her full weight forward and he hissed in pain. She grinned in triumph but the smile fell as a sharp pain pierced her thigh. She had forgotten about the hook.
"Ah! What the hell!" She rolled off and away, her right hand going to her thigh and her left pulling her dagger. She hadn't expected an actual fight, hadn't believed he would really hurt her despite his escape, but of course she had been wrong.
"Emma? Bloody hell, Emma! Are you hurt?" His shock and remorse made her loosen her hold on her dagger but not on her anger.
"You stabbed me with your hook! Of course I'm hurt,"
There was movement and suddenly he was beside her, his shadowed form becoming something recognizable close-up.
"Where?" Then his hand was on her knee and sliding upward as he probed for her wound. Heat flashed through her and she slapped his hand away. He drew back as if she had slapped his face.
"I can take care of it myself." Emma sheathed her dagger and moved her hand to the wound. She took a deep breath and concentrated letting her magic flow through her. Healing magic had become almost second nature in the last week, as she had secretly used her power to speed Killian's recovery. Despite her unease with using her magic, Emma had been almost pleased by how quickly she had mastered the ability. Her hand emitted a yellow light and soon she felt the healing warmth flow into her thigh. She sighed as the pain drained away. This was one part of having magic she could learn to enjoy. She glanced up to catch Hook's pensive look just before the magic light faded and plunged them back into darkness.
"Apologies, your highness. If I had known it was you–"
"You would have knocked me out instead?" She was only half-joking.
"I believe that's your tactic." The bitterness in his voice reminded her of how betrayed he had looked in the garden, and guilt pressed in on her. She pushed it back as she stood up.
"And yours is to steal and run away."
"I'm not running away." He gritted out and stepped toward her. The clouds broke and in the moonlight, she could suddenly make out the tension in his jaw and the anger in his eyes. She put her hands on her hips, refusing to back down.
"Oh? So you knocked out my men and stole a horse because you fancied a ride?"
"Perhaps." He shrugged defiantly with the forced nonchalance she suspected was his way of guarding his true emotions. She had thought he was more than this pirate persona. She had felt it in the broken way he had taunted the Dark One, all but pleading for death, in the way he had wanted to help her against Prince Walsh, and in the way he had looked at her outside that tavern. She had thought that underneath it all, there was something noble, something trustworthy, but she had been wrong about him just as she had been wrong about Neal.
"I can't believe I thought that you could ever be more than a vengeful pirate."
His fake smile flickered but stayed in place which only further enraged her. She spun on her heel and stormed away. She had only taken a few steps before he called out.
"Emma." She ignored him and continued walking.
"Emma!" His voice held a note of panic that made her turn around only to be immediately knocked into a tree. Trapped between bark and Hook's body she heard a blood-curdling screech.
Briefly, their eyes met, and she caught a dangerous determined glint before he pushed away from her and drew his sword. She followed suit with her dagger and scanned the forest with her heart thundering in her chest. She saw nothing. She glanced at Hook, but he wasn't searching the trees; his eyes were on the sky.
She looked up and with a jolt saw the shadow of something descending toward them. It was a blur of wings, a tail, and what looked like fur covered arms and legs. Emma had never encountered such a creature but she knew she would need more than a dagger to fight one off.
Screeching the monster flew toward her, filling her vision with its fangs and claws and her heart with dread. Then it was veering away from her and she saw Hook's sword slashing through its wing. With a scream of fury, the creature fell.
Emma shuddered at the sound as it got to its feet and turned to attack Hook. She moved to help but felt a rush of air above her and panic at the realization that there was more than one monster. Too late, she spun around as claws grasped at her shoulders and pulled her off the ground.
Visions of being carried away or dropped to her death had Emma's reacting on instinct. Fueled by adrenaline, she swung her hand up and buried her dagger in its calf. It released her with a scream and Emma fell to the ground as it flew away. She hit the ground hard, but not hard enough to bruise, and tried to catch her breath as she watched the monster climb into the sky. Her heart sank as she saw it join five more shadows above the trees. Now unarmed she felt fear begin to rise inside her. Hook cried out and she turned to him.
He was battling both the monster he had wounded and another that was flapping above him slashing at his back and head with its claws.
"Killian!" she screamed. Fear and anger rose up in her, and with it, a surge of power. Just like against the Dark One, she acted without thought, focused only on the need to protect, and suddenly a white light was bursting from her hands. It eviscerated the creature with the light turning it to ash before her eyes. Without pausing to think she directed another burst at the second creature and then there was nothing but gray dirt left where the monster had been. Hook looked at her in amazement and she stared down at her own shaking hands.
He came to her side. "That was bloody brilliant." She looked up from her hands, surprised to find him smiling despite the blood on his face and the frightening display of magic she had just unleashed. Above them, a creature screamed and began a dive. Hook gave her a smirk and gestured to the sky.
"After you, your highness."
She shook her head. "I can't"
The power was gone, drained away as the need for survival was replaced by horror at what she had done. His forehead wrinkled, but he didn't argue. He gave her a grim nod and turned back toward the sky with his sword raised. While Emma admired his courage, she knew it was hopeless to stand and fight against the creatures. They needed to escape. An image flashed in her mind and without thinking, she concentrated on it, bending her magic to take her and Hook to safety.
There was a flash and a whoosh in her ears and suddenly they were no longer under the night sky with death swooping down upon them but miles away in a hollowed out tree trunk that the bandit Snow White had once called home.
"Bloody hell," Hook breathed into the dark.
"Sorry, I didn't warn you. I know you hate being moved like that."
He turned around, grinning. "Don't apologize for saving my life."
Emma sat heavily on one of the chairs. Looking about the small, sparse hideout, she was flooded with relief. They were safe. She couldn't help but smile as she sighed. Wordlessly, Hook paced the length of the space and discovered the torches on the wall. She watched as he tried to light one using his hook and some flint he must have had in his pocket. The adrenaline was beginning to seep from her allowing her to think about what had just happened.
"What were those creatures?"
"They appeared to be flying monkeys," he replied, not taking his eyes from his task.
"Zelena," she muttered darkly and frowned. The kingdom's spies had given descriptions of the witches monsters, creatures that obeyed her unquestioningly, but Emma had never expected to come across them so close to her own castle. Zelena was getting bolder. No doubt she had finally realized that Emma's magic was unreliable and that defeating Regina had been a fluke that likely couldn't be repeated. Although after tonight, and the destruction of her pets, that opinion might change.
Emma looked down at her hands and examined them. Hook gave a satisfied grunt as a torch flared to life, but she didn't look up. She watched the light dance over her skin, its own kind of magic after the darkness. It had been too easy to summon her power, to use it without thought of the consequence. She had spent years suppressing it, using small, harmless spells and only when absolutely necessary, but now in the space of a few weeks, she had lost control twice.
The first time had been in the forest that surrounded the Dark One's castle. Desperate to get the urn, she had tracked Hook with a locator potion, only to find him in the middle of losing a fight with the Dark One. She had heard his voice first, a mocking taunt.
"Now you know how it feels to have your one true love gone in an instant, Crocodile."
There had been a crash that had made Emma start running. "Go ahead. Kill me. Then I will be reunited with my Milah. Do it!" The words and the heartbroken sound of him longing for death had triggered something in Emma: panic and fear mixed with a swell of power that she hadn't felt since she was a child and Regina was threatening her parents. When she burst into the clearing to see the Dark One hurl a fireball, she had screamed something between "no" and "Killian." The magic had poured from her in a massive wave that had knocked the sorcerer out of the clearing, leaving Killian to crumple at the base of a tree with broken bones and skin seared black and red from the flames. He had cried out in pain once before passing out.
"Where are we exactly?" Hook's voice pulled her from her thoughts. She clasped her hands but avoided meeting his eye.
"It's one of my mother's hideouts from her days as a bandit. She keeps it stocked for when she visits. She used to bring me here when I was a child." Emma didn't mention that the place had become her personal sanctuary after Neal's betrayal.
"Ah. Very clever choice." At the clear admiration in his voice, Emma looked up. He was beaming at her but instead of returning his smile, she frowned.
"You're hurt."
He brushed his fingers over the gash on his forehead and then looked at the blood smeared on them with a shrug. "It's nothing. I've had worse."
It was true; she had seen him only a few weeks ago, nearly dead from the Dark One's magic, but that was beside the point. With a sigh, she stood and motioned for him to sit in the chair.
"Let me look at it."
When it seemed like he would object she narrowed her eyes. He smirked and sunk obediently into the seat, but not without first sweeping his long leather coat dramatically. She rolled her eyes and then leaned forward to inspect the wound. It was bloody and the skin was torn in a nasty slash but it didn't look serious. Still, she didn't want to leave a wound from a magical creature to fester.
Emma glanced down only to catch Hook's green-blue eyes staring. She felt warm all over and realized that getting this close to his face had been a bad idea. She leaned away.
"Do you have any alcohol?"
He cocked an eyebrow and bit his lip as if stopping whatever innuendo he had on the tip of his tongue.
"Of course, love, what kind of pirate would I be without it?" He produced a flask from his long leather coat and she took it, careful not to touch his hand.
She turned away and looked about for something to clean the wound with, but after a quick search yielded nothing, she unwound the black scarf on her wrist and doused it in what smelled like rum.
"Hey!" Hook protested.
She didn't comment and moved toward him and he grumbled about wasting his rum. He tipped his head back to make the job easier for her, but still she had to stand far too close to him. She did her best to avoid meeting his eyes this time and concentrated on first cleaning away the blood.
"I thought you were going to heal it with your magic." He was teasing but it made her flush.
"I don't really use magic if I can help it."
"In my experience, you use it quite often: sleeping spells, transportation, obliterating flying simians, not to mention a mesmerizing spell on an unsuspecting pirate in a tavern."
Indignant she met his twinkling eyes and cocked eyebrow. "It was a sleeping powder, and I didn't use a spell on you in the tavern."
He gave a low, noncommittal hum, but she refused to be drawn in. She pressed the alcohol soaked fabric to his wound and couldn't help her small smile of satisfaction when he flinched and hissed in discomfort. When he recovered from the shock, he spoke again.
"It's curious that even with all my connections I never heard a whisper that the Princess of Misthaven had magic."
"Like I said, I don't really use magic."
"Why not? You clearly have a great deal of power. Given the threat Zelena poses and the lack of options at your family's disposal, wouldn't it be prudent for you to use it?"
"It's complicated." Emma shook her head. She didn't want to have this conversation with him.
There was a pause and she could feel him scrutinizing her. She made the mistake of glancing down and meeting his eyes. A shiver ran up her spine. That was always the danger with him: not just the physical attraction, but the way his eyes seemed to stare into her soul. She looked away, suddenly more aware of the proximity of their bodies and the pounding of her own heart.
"Your parents didn't strike me as magic adverse. After all, both fairies and werewolves have seats in their council." Emma stubbornly ignored him and concentrated on the wound even though it was now basically clean. "Unless it isn't magic they disapprove of, but their daughter having magic?"
Even though he spoke carefully, Emma hated him for seeing the truth so easily. As a child, she hadn't understood her parent's disapproval when she would have a burst of magic, and it had made her feel broken–unworthy to be the daughter of their perfect true love. She hadn't understood how Queen Snow had watched magic lure Regina into a loveless darkness with only power and revenge for comfort, or how she worried the same would happen to her daughter. She hadn't understood the danger contained within her. But after Regina and then Neal, Emma had come to understand and share her parent's fears. Her magic was powerful, uncontrollable, and unpredictable; it was better if she didn't use it–especially for bigger things like fighting the Wicked Witch.
"You don't understand," she murmured and stepped back. She let her hand fall from his forehead, avoiding his all-knowing eyes.
"Perhaps not. But I have seen the power within you, Emma, and it's nothing to be afraid of."
"Nothing to be afraid of?" she snapped. What did he know about any of it? "It bursts out of me with no control. It kills. It hurts. Of course I am afraid of it. You should be afraid of it." Her voice climbed as her anger grew, and she paced away from him in frustration. The room was suddenly too small, and she strode to the door. She was grasping the handle before she remembered that she couldn't leave. The flying monkeys might be out there looking for them. She hit her forehead on the wood of the door and let out a sigh. She closed her eyes tight for a long moment and then turned around. Hook was watching her with a tender concern she wished she couldn't see. He stepped toward her.
"I may not have magic, but I do know something about having something dangerous be a part of you." He gestured to his hook. She frowned, not sure what he was trying to say. "And something I have learned is that it's only dangerous if you don't learn how to use it properly. Your magic is a tool and one day you will master it, and then the only people who need fear are your enemies. And you will defeat Zelena."
The surety and steadiness in his voice made Emma want to believe him.
"You really think so?"
He stepped closer, tilted his head and offered her a smile. "I have yet to see you fail."
She searched his eyes for mockery. Because he of all people knew that she had failed. But all she saw in his blue-green depths was sincerity; he truly believed in her. He saw in her someone strong and capable of defeating the Wicked Witch. She had come into the woods angry and convinced that he had betrayed her, that he was her enemy, but now she wasn't so sure. Heat danced between them, the attraction that always blossomed eventually, and like their other meetings, Emma wanted to give in to it. He leaned forward and she licked her lips in anticipation. But then he paused, pressing his hand against his forehead as he grimaced. He stumbled into her and she reached out and caught him from falling.
"Hook? Killian?"
"Sorry to ruin the moment, love. But the room seems to be spinning." He smiled weakly and then winced again.
"We need to get you to bed."
"If the lady insists." He gave an approximation of a wicked grin but it didn't quite meet his eyes.
She felt worry lance through her; if he was too sick to make an innuendo, something must be wrong. He leaned on her as they made their way awkwardly to the small cot against the far wall. He collapsed on it with a grunt and then heaved a deep sigh.
"That's better. I think I will just rest my eyes." And in a few moments his body went slack with sleep. Emma leaned down and placed her hand on his forehead. He was hot, but not burning. She examined his injury but it didn't look infected. She hoped he was just exhausted. A combination of not being fully healed from the encounter with the Dark One, escaping from the castle, walking through the woods, and fighting off the flying monstrosities must have made him overtired. But just in case she performed a quick healing spell and closed the wound on his forehead. She brushed his silky hair out of his face and sighed before turning away. She would have to wait and see if he got worse, and in the meantime she was hungry.
The food, some dried meat and old biscuits, was bland but fortifying, and while she chewed, Emma mulled over Killian's words. It was true that her family was out of options for fighting Zelena, and it was also true that her magic was very powerful. If she could overcome her fear and learn to control it, then maybe she could protect her kingdom. Neal's words on the day he left came floating back to her.
"Magic is evil. Power like that can't be used and not turn you evil in the process."
She shook away the memory, unwilling to think of that consequence when she wasn't even sure it was true. Certainly, not all magic was evil. Much of it, like transportation or locator spells, was benign and some of it, like healing spells, was helpful. As Killian had said maybe it was just a tool. She sighed, knowing there was no way she would come to a decision tonight.
Feeling suddenly tired she put out all but one of the torches, and then sat on the bed and checked on Killian. Nothing had changed; his breathing was even, his temperature was normal, and his heartbeat was strong. As she finished taking his pulse, his hand wrapped around hers and held it fast. She tried to pull it from his grasp, but that only made him put his hand on his chest taking her hand and arm with it. He gave a wide grin and murmured something she couldn't quite understand. She shook her head and smiled.
She probably could have extracted herself but she was too tired to fight and she assumed he would release her hand eventually. So she swung her legs up next to his, her blue leather next to his black, and lay down beside him in the cramped cot.
His body was warm and comfortable and smelled like rum and rich leather. Soon she had drifted off into a peaceful sleep where she dreamed of sailing and a pirate that believed in her.
Emma awoke to shafts of morning light drifting through the cracks in the wood, something heavy lying on her, and an empty cot. She sat up, her mind suddenly alert as she realized Killian was gone. Her prisoner escaped into the night while she slept, once again betraying her and proving that she couldn't–
"Good morning, beautiful."
Startled, she turned her head to see him lounging in the chair in his shirt and vest. Her emotions shifted from anger to relief to annoyance, and Killian must have seen it all on her face because he gave a slight chuckle.
"Sleep well? Any pleasant dreams?"
He winked and she laid back down with a groan. She wasn't awake enough to deal with him or any of this. She pulled the blanket over her head only to realize that it wasn't a blanket, but his leather coat.
She sat back up and tossed the coat aside as she swung her legs to the floor. She stared down at it, gathering her thoughts. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, especially not with him, but now it was mid-morning and it would take hours to get back to the castle. She let out a quiet groan. Her parents were probably worried sick, and when she returned with Killian, it likely wouldn't ease their minds.
She had seen the looks they had shared after she had arrived with his broken, burnt body on the back of her horse, and she had heard the questions they didn't ask when she explained why she had thought it necessary to risk the wrath of the Dark One for him. She had shared nothing of her past with the infamous pirate captain, but they seemed to know that there was a past to share and it worried them. And now, she had run after him and spent the night with him. Holding in a sigh, she looked up to find Killian watching her with mischievous eyes.
"We need to get back to the castle," she said flatly. The glint in his eyes disappeared and his face turned expressionless.
"Aye. I guess we should." His tone matched hers.
"Good." She stood and made for the door not even pausing to see if he was following.
They walked in silence for almost an hour, with Emma in the lead and Killian following ten feet behind. She did her best to concentrate only on the path and what she would tell her parents when they got to the castle, not just about Killian, but also about her decision to try and master her magic. But her thoughts kept drifting back to the man behind her, the man who had stood by her side against the flying monkeys, the man that had encouraged her to embrace her magic, the man that was willingly returning to be imprisoned. She had gone into the woods assuming they were enemies, but she wondered now if he was on her side. And the question plagued her until finally she stopped walking and turned around with her hands on her hips to confront him.
"Why are you coming with me?"
He stopped short. "What?"
"Last night you ran away from the castle, but now you are coming back with me. Why?"
"For the pleasure of your company of course." He grinned, pushed his hips forward, and took a step toward her. "Do you value your charms so little, Princess?"
She shook her head. "Don't do that. Don't hide behind your swagger. If you are going to come back with me and not be thrown into the dungeon, I need to trust you, and to trust you I need to understand why you left."
He grimaced and looked to the ground before scratching behind his ear. She noticed that he looked paler, almost sickly. Then he met her eyes with a steady gaze.
"Alright. After the council meeting, it was clear that you hero types didn't have a chance, and I realized that the only way to help you defeat Zelena was to execute my plan."
Realization dawned on Emma as she remembered him volunteering to become their spy. She held up her hand.
"Wait. Are you saying you left so you could gather information about Zelena for us?" She wasn't sure she believed him.
"Does that surprise you?"
"You are a pirate." She said it with a small smile but he clenched his jaw and ducked his head.
"Aye, that I am." Then he looked at her again and stepped closer. "But I also believe in good form. I owe you a debt for saving my life, and I always pay my debts."
Emma swallowed thickly. His voice was so intense, so sincere, but the implication that this was all about his honor didn't ring true to her.
"And that's it? Just repaying your debt and nothing more?"
"Do you want it to be something more?" He stepped closer and now they were only a breath away. How had he gotten so close without her noticing? She didn't have an answer for him; she didn't know what she wanted or how she felt. She no longer doubted their connection and was willing to trust him to help her defeat Zelena, but she wasn't ready to trust him with her heart. Wordlessly, she stepped back, turned away, and continued walking.
They hadn't gone far before she noticed Killian falling further back. Thinking he wanted space she marched on but when she looked back and couldn't see him she grew concerned. She had only taken a few steps before a scream ripped the air. It was chilling in its agony, and she started running. Another cry echoed around her and she moved faster.
"Killian!" She stumbled upon him kneeling on the ground with his face crumpled in pain.
"Emma stay back! I–" His word turned into a gasp and he fell forward catching himself with his hand and hook. There was a ripping sound, his leather coat tearing like tissue paper, as two giant wings erupted from his back.
She was frozen in shock as the wings flapped. What sorcery was this?
"The Witch I can hear– She's in my head–"
Emma stared as he gripped his head and his face twisted in pain, and as she stared, fur began to grow on top of his stubble.
"Run!" he yelled and she could see his teeth becoming long sharp fangs. In moments he would be a flying monkey, one of Zelena's minions and likely incapable of ignoring her commands. Emma didn't want to leave him but she had no choice.
"I'll find you. I will defeat her and I will find you." She poured conviction into her voice and Killian looked at her with hope and gratitude. Then his eyes turned red and he let out a scream that was not human as his body completed the transformation.
Emma closed her eyes against the horrific scene and concentrated on her magic. It came easily, gathering around her as she pictured her room in the castle. She felt the power swell inside her and she was no longer afraid; Killian had been right. She could master her magic and when she did she would be able to save her kingdom and her pirate.
