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Let it be known that Emma Swan is not a damsel in distress.
She’s a damsel, sure.
She’s in distress, of course.
She has this covered.
Well, she’s working on that part. It’s just that it’s kind of hard not to be in distress when you’re on a mission to save your kingdom but you’re tied up to a pirate—Captain Hook, no less, scourge of the seas—with no way of getting out.
“I can hear you thinking, Swan, and it’s not exactly helping our situation,” she hears his voice say from behind.
She humphs, grumbles something inaudible, then starts squirming again. Maybe if she can just cause some friction between them and the rope, they’d be out of here.
“Don’t call me Swan,” she says. She gives a slight tug against their hands, causing him to wince as the ropes tighten against them.
“What name would you prefer I call you then, if not the one you snuck aboard my ship with, Your Highness?” he bites back, giving an equal tug of his hand to tighten the ropes against hers.
Okay, she deserves that one. He wouldn’t be in this predicament right now if it weren’t for her and her status. Princess Emma of Misthaven, under the guise of a bar wench named Emma Swan, snuck aboard the Jolly Roger in order to commandeer his ship and find a way to defeat the evil threatening their land.
Gods, her cousin will get a kick out of this story once she makes it back home. If she ever makes it back home.
“Emma,” she tells him. “You can just call me Emma.”
“So, Emma,” he says through gritted teeth, “Care to tell me why you did what you did?”
“I did what I needed to do to save the people I love,” she tells him. “Though I’m not sure a pirate would understand anything about that.”
He stiffens against her before giving their hands another sharp tug. That grabs her attention, to say the least, and if she wasn’t almost losing feeling in that hand with how often these ropes keep tightening, she’d scream.
“Let’s get one thing straight now, Swan,” Hook says. “I’m not your typical pirate. If there’s one thing I understand most in this world, it’s love—and the lengths you’ll go to protect or avenge it.”
She immediately digs her elbow into his back upon the sound of footsteps approaching. Luckily he picks up on the hint, quieting as the footsteps near, stop, then walk away. Whoever’s gone and done this to them has told everyone to ignore the bodies tied up, it seems.
“Was getting us captured and tied up also part of your plan?” he asks, and if it wasn’t for their backs pressed up against each other right now, she’d make her anger known at that remark.
(Of course this wasn’t part of her plan. None of this was part of her plan.)
“Would it kill you to think of a way of getting out of here?” she retorts, angling her head toward him. “Or is that not up to Captain Hook’s speed?”
He silences and stills, letting out a soft, “Hook,” just a moment after.
“Yes,” Emma says. “That’s what I called you. Hook. Or are you in the sharing mood and willing to give me your actual name?”
“No,” he says with a shake of his head, “My hook! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before! If we can loosen my hook, we can get my arm free and get us out of here.”
“So that’s how she got that scar, papa?”
A little girl of no more than six with blue eyes that shine bright and blonde curls that bounce around as she sits up excitedly can’t help but frown in confusion.
“That’s exactly how your mother got that scar, my little cygnet,” Killian says.
She shakes her head and crosses her arms, looking every bit as frustrated as her mother does when she can’t get something quite right.
“But you told me this was a love story, papa. She doesn’t sound like she’s very much in love with you there.”
Killian laughs. Just as perceptive as her mother, this little one is.
“Perhaps if you let me finish the story, cygnet, you’ll see what I mean.”
There’s a huff, then a sigh, then a child leaning back against her headboard once more.
“Thank you, your highness.”
“I told you to stop calling me that,” Emma stresses, sitting down atop a fallen log. They’re in the middle of the forest with no idea where to go and no idea if the ones that were chasing them are still drawing close. “At this point, I’d prefer you calling me Swan.”
“Will you allow me to bandage your wound then, Swan, as a way of showing my thanks for you saving my life back there?”
She sees the sincerity in his eyes, the genuine gratitude pouring out. Even though they’re both out of breath from running—and boy has there been a lot of running—she nods and extends her left hand out to him. He fishes out a scarf from his vest, holding her wrist up with his hook as he wraps the cloth around it and then tightens it with his teeth.
“Now then,” he says, soft smile on his face as he finishes up. “Care to tell me why exactly you snuck aboard my ship and started us on this journey?”
Emma takes a deep breath, pauses, then nods. She forgets her hand is still against his, swallowing past the lump in her throat as she says one simple word, “Magic.” He reacts instantly, hand pulling away from hers as he straightens to a stand. “There’s someone that’s been in hiding for awhile, someone with enough magical knowhow to help me defeat the evil in my kingdom—and you’re the only one able to take me to them.”
“Papa!” the little girl interjects, “This isn’t the story you promised!”
“All right, all right,” he laughs. “I’ll get to the good part.”
Emma huffs, walking straight past him and their encampment. Hands in fists, she reaches a tree before she turns back around and walks to another.
“Swan, come have a seat before you put out our fire with all your pacing,” Killian coaxes her, hand extended for her to grab.
“Emotion,” she says through gritted teeth. “That damn fool says I won’t be able to harness the magical power inside me until I can tap into whatever emotions I’m repressing. Who do they think they are, thinking they know me like this?”
They’ve been stuck in this damn place for almost a month now. (Three weeks and five days, but it’s not like he’s keeping track that extensively.) If it’s emotion she needs, he has plenty of it and he’s more than willing to share. After all, who wouldn’t be full of emotions after getting stuck in the middle of nowhere on a journey not of his own choosing?
He reaches up for her hand as she paces right by him, stilling him in her tracks. “If there’s anything I can do to be of assistance, Swan, just name it.”
She looks down at his hand then at him, eyes meeting and—
“You know what, cygnet, perhaps it’s best we just skip to the end,” Killian says.
“No!” she cries, blonde curls bouncing as she sits up. “You promised me romance, papa! That sounds like romance!”
“Have you been reading your brother’s works?” he asks.
She shakes her head.
He raises a brow.
She sighs.
“Only the parts he’s let me read with him! Some of the words were too big for me so we sounded them out.”
The blood continues to seep around her hands, life slowly leaving his eyes. She needs to do something, needs to act fast to save him. This was all a trap to begin with, from her seeking him out to them getting stuck on this island.
“Hook please, you have to stay with me,” she says, applying pressure to his wound. “We’ll stop the bleeding then find a way off this island.”
“Swan…” he joins his fingers with hers as she tightens her pressure on his.
“Just save your strength, you foolish pirate!” Emma cries. “We’ll get you better, get you off this island, and then you can finally tell me your name, yes?”
He reaches up and brushes her cheek with his fingers as he says, “Killian Jones, at your service, love.”
His hand slowly falls as he eyes close, strength leaving his body.
“Come back to me,” she says, tears streaming down her face. She leans down and presses her forehead against his. “Killian, come back to me.”
Emma leans down and kisses him.
A burst of light engulfs them, and then—
“Killian!” a voice calls from the hall.
He scrambles comically, standing up to pull the sheets to her shoulders. The little girl hides her giggles behind the blankets. Her father winks just as a her mother appears by the door.
“She’s not still awake, is she?” Emma asks. “It’s past her bedtime.”
“I was just in here to check up on her, love,” he says.
“You let her con you into another bedtime story, didn’t you?” she asks with an accusatory smirk.
“Come now, Swan, I have more willpower than that.”
“No you don’t, papa!” their little girl teases, poking her head out from the covers.
Killian feigns hurt as Emma laughs, entering the room further. He’s been caught, he knows it, but boy if he isn’t wrapped around his little cygnet’s finger.
Emma sits next down on the bed next to her, wrapping her up in her arms as she looks up at Killian.
“You might as well finish your story, Captain,” she says. Their little girl’s eyes light up next to her, curls bouncing as she nods her head in agreement. “Come now. It’s rude to leave us waiting.”
He smiles, sitting down once more on the bed as he looks at the two most important people in his life.
“If you insist,” he says.
He wonders what new adventure he’ll have to make up for them tomorrow night.
End