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claire-starsword · 1 year ago

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A few pages from the Shining Wisdom novel

That's right baby I'm mooching off bad pictures from an ebay listing again. I even attempted to translate them as well, though take it with a grain of salt as some words are cut off from the scans so I had to make educated guesses or just mark the blanks, also I'm obviously missing context, although it's largely just a novelization of the game's plot.

Also, the narration is first person from Mars' POV, so we get some thoughts from a Shining boy for a change.

[…] he made an exaggerated shocked face. "You really surprised me. You weren't just getting help from an elf, you have more mental fortitude than the average person as well. People like you are what we fear the most," he said, though he didn't sound frightened at all. The frog man watched over as the princess walked out of the room, then turned back to me. "But I look forward to your next efforts. Do prepare some great fun for us," he said, and left the room as well, looking back at me for the last time and waving goodbye. "See you around!" Stop mocking me! I wanted to shout, I tried with all my might. Ugh… I clenched my fists. […]

Notes:

Banbo's lines here are taken almost word by word from the game here, with only some small wording differences. I still preferred to retranslate them on my own instead of copying the EU version though. The same goes for all the following pages as well.

Another minor difference in this scene is that in the game, these lines come by after Satera has already walked off, while here she's still in her room.

Judging by this page at least Banbo does not seem to be hopping around like in game as well. Though since the narration is Mars', he might just be too angry or sleepy to acknowledge that the enemy is not only mocking him but also doing backflips during that.

Note also that Mars is wearing some extra garb in the picture, this is likely because at this point he's still a guard at the castle and hasn't yet been promoted to special boy who adventures as he pleases.

Before I could ask the fairy what did she mean, she began to fly in circles around my head. "We fairies are forbidden from defying the laws of nature, but this much should be fine […] So? Do you remember what happened?" Remember what? She continued to talk with a mysterious expression. "You went to the Royal Crypt to rescue the princess, right? So, did you defeat Pazort there?" "No way!" I couldn't have defeated him. That frog man from before released some sort of smoke that knocked me out, I think. And the princess, they cast a spell on her- That's right, she was turned into a swan. That's terrible, I can't help but worry… But I'd seen the princess safe and sound in the castle. Wait, no! With a shock, I finally understood. That was a fake, a mage named Karry, who had transformed into the princess. This is what I had to remember no matter what. The fog in my mind had finally cleared. But as I realized how dire things were, I froze, unable to think of anything.

This isn't in the game at all! In game, because Mars is the silent protagonist, he just watches fake Satera waltz into the castle and fool everyone and gets promoted as a result. Upon reaching Gudo Valley and meeting the Fairy, she immediately explains how to help the real princess, implying Mars does know the whole situation, and stayed quiet because ???

So yeah, it makes perfect sense that the novel changed/elaborated things a bit, and Mars apparently suffered some sort of confusion/memory block after those events.

Also, as you'll see through the next pages, the Fairy teams up with Mars for the rest of the adventure, which. Makes so much more sense. Makes the ending work so much better. Would make the game so much livelier. I honestly feel robbed, they robbed me of a friend here :(

"Oh, that swan… The poor thing is under a spell, no? Come to me. I can remedy that." The old man - no, the hermit of the Thousand Year Tree - stared at the swam, beckoning for her to come forward. The swan looked at me then the fairy, who gave her a nod. She went to the hermit with unsteady steps. "You just need to endure it a little longer, there's no reason to be scared, girl," said the hermit gently while patting the swan's head. He started to chant magical words, low as a whisper. Then his hand began to glow. The light grew into a sphere, covering the swan's head. "Hyah!" With the hermit's shout, the sphere expanded further, enveloping the swan's whole body, and then it burst in a flash. As the light faded out, who stood there was no longer a swan, but Princess Satera. Her clothes had been dirtied after everything she went through as a swan, but she was just as beautiful as she looked like when I first saw her in her room, no, even more beautiful up close. "How do you feel?" asked the hermit, sounding very proud of himself, "are you back to normal?" "I… Yes, I'm back. I'm really myself again, right?"

Notes:

Again, the dialogue is mostly lifted from the game, with only a few changes in punctuation. Also, the Fairy is here.

"[…] Kaipa. Strike down the one Mars says is the fake!" "B-but, my liege, that's…!" "Do it! The real one should be protected by the Royal Tiara. Now strike!!" While hesitating, the captain drew his sword and swung it at the fake princess. She dodged it nimbly, jumping away a good distance. "So this farce is done for. Yes, I am a servant of Lord Pazort, the witch Karry!" Laughing loudly, Kari seemed to flash a bluish white for a moment, before changing back to her gorgeous original shape. Light white skin gave way to blue, dazzling golden locks became a cascade of azure hair. Running her hands through her hair, Karry gave the king a challenging look. "I thought I'd be able to fool you to the very end, but you found me out. It's too little too late, though. I got the key to the royal treasury last night, dear king. This very moment, soldiers I bewitched are stealing the Orbs of the Djinns thanks to it! With this, Lord Pazort's dream will become true, the Djinns will be released from the labyrinths!" "That, that's impossible! The key is safe right here…" Flustered, the king searched for it in his clothes. "It's, it's gone!" The king took off his luxurious royal coat, and began searching everywhere on his person. […]

Notes:

Most of the dialogue is lifted from the game, though the part between the king and the captain feels a bit abridged. In game, they hesitate a lot more in attacking one of the princesses before Mars enters the room. It's possible that things were rewritten a bit so that Mars is in the scene from the beginning, as he's the narrator.

I nodded at the fairy's words. "Let's go seal the four Djinns." I drew my sword, and took the path to my right. *** "There are four Djinns. One for fire, water, wind and earth," I heard the fairy explain from behind me as I ran through the narrow path. "Maybe, because the orbs were made to drain their power, it robbed them of their will as well. Pazort might be controlling them now." "Will they attack us, then?" "They… might," the fairy replied, clearly unhappy. "But if you defeat them, their will should be resealed in the orbs, and their true essence should return to the Shrine." "So, I really have no choice but to fight them?" She nodded sadly in response. […] "It's still fine. I see four huge flows of power." "That's a relief…" I sighed. As soon as I took the next turn in the path, the colors of my surroundings changed. Everything was deep red, as if the whole chamber was burning. Not just "as if", with a single step into the chamber I could feel the absurd heat assaulting me. "Everything is on fire!?" "It's the Fire Djinn." With the fairy's words I finally noticed it. A figure befitting of its name. In the depths of the chamber stood a giant, red as bricks, clad in armor and a helmet. […] "That's… a djinn?" It wasn't how I expected a spirit to look like. […] Its face under the helmet looked ferocious like a beast. "The djinns don't have bodies like ours. Because they stole power from the giant Surt, that power oozes from them and makes up their form. You could say they're embodying that evil power." It could be just my imagination, but I thought I saw a round flash of light from the djinn's chest.

Notes:

Original scene, as the fairy isn't around for the Djinn battles in game. I don't remember these bits of Djinn lore anywhere in game as well, though it might be on some unremarkable NPC or book as most lore crumbs in this game.

Perhaps worth mentioning, in game the Djinns are usually referred to with the word in katakana (ジン), while the novel usually uses the word for spirits (精霊), with furigana indicating the Djinn reading only in its first mention. They have been referred to as spirits in guides as well, so this is nothing new, just a stylistic choice I suppose.

A fireball headed straight in my direction. Then a gust of wind. The only way to dodge is upwards! I jumped, but another gust of wind from above knocked me down to the ground. I managed to deflect some of the next blasts of wind and light with my sword, but their impact was still enough to have me screaming in pain. I had no idea just how deep my wounds were at that point. I couldn't help but continue to howl in agony. Somehow I managed to get back on my knees, and in that moment Pazort came to face me. "This is all you've got, right?" He held his finger to my left chest - pointing straight to my heart. "Well then, give me the Orbs," he demanded. "Even if you refuse, I can just take them anyway after killing you. But I dislike taking things by force." "No!" I shouted while getting back on my feet. I had almost no strength left in me. It was my last chance to do anything. But I had to be ready to take Pazort down, even at the cost of my life. "I see… Then, you give me no choice. Die." A bluish-white light began to gather at Pazort's fingertip.

Notes:

Original scene since it's adapting the final battle. I don't remember Pazort having any sort of finger laser in game, and the description of light gathering for a moment reminds me of Oddeye's beam. Not that I think it's a reference, it's a very generic description, I just want to crack a joke on Pazort's mooching off the guy's popularity as usual.

They are this to me

#shining series #shining wisdom #shining wisdom novel #sw mars #sw princess satera #sw fairy #i'm so sad about her #they deprived me of a second peter #what are videogames for if not hanging out with a bestie that talks for you #also the ending would make A LOT more sense #the guide also treated her as a companion #i wonder if something went amok during development #the game does support followers in a way since satera follows you a bit #but also i wonder if they didn't want it looking too much like landstalker #who knows what the relationship between those companies was #whoa my tab just crashed. good thing tumblr autosaves drafts nowadays #anyway i did have a terrible realization while typing this #that is page 232. the novel has 251 pages #no way does the entire ending fits there #it's probably just the afterlife from mars' point of view #they cut all of kazin's part #DIRECT ATTACK ON ME. SPECIFICALLY #no really the ending's gonna be really boring without kazin. how would that be like #i might be wrong i guess #but mars being the pov does worry me #sw karry #sw banbo #sw pazort #long post

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vikkirosko · 3 years ago

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Sunday has come, and a new part of the Dark Parables is waiting for us! At the request of the swan princess, we come to her kingdom, where the traitor of the Swan Guard stole a magical seed that is necessary for the revival of the goddess Flora. But is everything so simple? And why does the Black Swan claim that she wants to save the goddess?

The walkthrough is already on the channel!

#dark parables #gaming #youtube #The Swan Princess and The Dire Tree

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ollamhproductions · 6 years ago

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Well, we've saved another land, and yet another goddess. Maybe we should change our name to the Deity Detective....

#let's play #video games #dark parables #the swan princess and the dire tree #adventure game #detective game #mystery games #hidden object games #big fish games #blue tea games #eipix entertainment

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softlytowardthesun · 2 years ago

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Curious: what are your favorite type of fairy stories listed in the Aarne-Thompson enciclopedia classification?

First off, it's nice to meet you and thank you for asking! Secondly, I want to preface this: I'm not a student or a scholar of folklore as a genre, and my knowledge of ATU is limited to what I've managed to find online over the years. More often than not, it's either something I've found on JStor in college, something in a Maria Tatar book, or this website.

Still, I love seeing these stories and all their variations across times and places. Without further ado:

306: The Worn-Out Dancing Shoes: I love the mystery element of this story, and I'm forever intrigued by all the variations of the other world the women travel to, whether it's the palace of Indra, the court of Satan, or something else entirely. Many versions attribute their actions to some curse that must be broken to achieve a heterosexual happy ending, but it's in the in-between that this story really sings to me. And a not-quite-variant of it, "Kate Crackernuts", may just be my favorite fairy tale of all time; how often is the ugly (or at least, "less bonny") stepsister the hero of her own story?

310: The Maiden in the Tower: I'm a sucker for a magical chase, and Rapunzel's relatives absolutely provide. My favorites include "Snow-White-Fire-Red", "The Canary Prince", and "Louliyya, Daughter of Morgan".

311: Magic Flight: Stories of magical escapes from dire situations, like "Sweetheart Roland", "The White Dove", "The Fox Sister", and "The Tail of the Princess Elephant".

407: The Flower Girl: Plants who become women or vice versa, often coupled with an escape from an abusive romance. I love these stories purely for the folkloric weirdness factor: "A Riddling Tale" (shout-out to Erstwhile for introducing me to this one), "The Gold-Spinners", "The Girl in the Bay Tree", and "Pretty Maid Ibronka".

451: Brothers as Birds: This one's purely on my love for the Grimms' "Six Swans" and "Seven Ravens". I love a resilient heroine who draws her strength from her family. I admittedly haven't read many others, but these two mean so much to me they get a place here entirely on the strength of these two.

510B: All-Kinds-Of-Fur: The story of a woman's escape from her incestuous father who then gets a Cinderella ending. I admire the heroine's courage in face of an all too real type of monster. Grimms' is a favorite, as is "Florinda" (which could also qualify as 514), "Princess in a Leather Burqa", "The She-Bear", and "Nya-Nya Bulembu".

514: The Shift of Sex: I first came across this story when I stumbled on Psyche Z. Ready's terrific thesis some years ago and I haven't been able to get it out of my mind since. All of these variations from all over the world -- I find it cathartic to know that we've been asking these questions about gender and sexuality forever, and a happy ending is an imaginative possibility.

709: Fairest of Them All: This I owe squarely to Maria Tatar's anthology from a few years ago. Unfortunately, this also means that there are several I can't find online, including "Kohava the Wonder Child" (a rare Jewish heroine in a genre infamous for how it absorbs anti-Semitism) and "King Peacock" (one of the few African American fairy tales I know, also included in Tatar's collaboration with Henry Louis Gates). I love "Princess Aubergine", "Little Toute-Belle", and especially "Gold-Tree and Silver-Tree" - my little bi self was elated to stumble across a princess who lives happily ever after with her kind and gentle limbo husband and her cunning and resourceful wife.

Even as a hobbyist, I love folklore and fairy tales. I love these little glimpses into other cultures, and I love the way these story structures act as magnets for so many nuances of people's lives across history. Still, I hope this answers your question, gives a glimpse into my experience with fairy tales as a genre, or (at the very least) gives you some new and interesting stories to read!

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110789angle · 4 years ago

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Princess Odette Moodboard

Frog Prince fourth wife

Dark Parables: The Swan Princess and the Dire Tree

#dark parables #swan lake #swan princess #knight of the swan #big fish games #lohengrin #swan knight #music box #fairy tale #ballet #lake

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courtorderedcake · 4 years ago

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Hallow : ch xviii - CSSNS 2019

“The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.

Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King’s will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time.”

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.”

Read on AO3 here.

Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.

Written for @cssns

Ch 18 / ?? - In which battles almost won are lost.

Emma slept as Killian guided the ship through the portal, and then into the sunlit turquoise waters of a palm tree lined harbor. She had slept the day before in fitful bouts of exhaustion, losing herself in fever as he looked on helplessly, the Darkness snapping its jaws. The black that pooled like ink across her chest had spread, Emma whispering the word parasite in hisses at him between remembering things she shouldn't be remembering. She was hysterical, warning him about 'the parasite', and 'to remember the Dark One', staring at him before begging him for help he could not muster.

It was clear that he was the cause of Emma's condition, both in action and in reaction to her. His ignorance in not noticing she was sick, throwing away her medicine, listening to the concerns over her cough so they had stayed on the isle for just enough extra time - it all fell on him.

Alice Jones had been sickly, her disease life long. A spore grew in the dank caves of the Blackwater and its surrounding village, the Ladies Reform Academy, or the Baelfire Hold that caused Lichenlung, a lung disease that took female Fae. The disease itself wasn't deadly, but the fevers caused by weakness generally were. His mother had died from such a fever, her coughing fits and inability to choke down breaths eventually strangling her. He'd studied cures in the Naval academy, his required duties bringing him to the bedside of over two dozen women stricken with the illness. Even Milah had succumbed to it eventually, the message she left him still haunting him.

Emma sounded and had symptoms like the people he had seen in their last days. He was honestly uncertain that the princess would survive, a thought that thoroughly terrified him and the Darkness. In the secreted corner where he harbored other emotions, terror was an understatement that threatened dire consequences. The Darkness finding he still felt whatever it was that made Emma so much more would break him, and risk it making good on its promises to hurt her. Even as panic gripped the small scrap of light left in him, the Darkness had only just begun to realize its precious shard would disappear.

How to help her was the issue. The Dark One being loose had most surely made it to places like this . He'd only heard of them in his naval career, been told tales from his Father as a lad when the Blackwater Lord had spared him a glance, and generally been too busy doing the Goblin King's bidding to know too much about his surroundings. But in his understanding of Agrabah's history, it was a blackmarket goods and information brokerage hub. Royalty turned a blind eye on what was good for keeping gold in its coffers and ships in its ports; the thieves, ne'er do wells, and bandits did their best to not rob everyone blind.

He could not bloody well run in the market carrying the Princess of the United Realms in his arms. Were their healers the type to recognize them, or ask questions? Would their ship be inspected? Would he get a knife in his belly or more worryingly, Emma's? Killian didn't have any idea of if they even had healers, or doctors - they knew nothing about the place. It was the blind leading the…

He found himself at her bedside more than he cared to admit, as if whispering apologies would save her from his spreading filth. As it became clear the waters were placid, he hauled pillows up beside him, laying Emma in the shaded corner. She woke briefly, fluttering her eyelashes against his neck and whispering his name. Steering them into the docks, he threw out his ties to the pier, knotting them with ease. A loud thunk threw off his precision as it reverberated through the planks, Killian on his feet with sword drawn in moments. Two pairs of startled brown eyes looked up at him, Anisapi dressed in embroidered kaftans standing in front of him on a great carpet.

"We mean you no harm," the first said, his maroon kaftan matching his fez, primate tail whipping back with nervous anxiety. He smiled, or attempted to, but his sharp canines did little to aid his welcome. His voice was slightly scratchy, but it wasn't surprising as he shuffled his body weight between his feet and knuckles. "Our Sultana, may her sight never fail us, summons you to the palace. Come at once!"

"And who the bloody hell are you, the petting zoo?" Killian flicked his sword upward, motioning for the Anisapi to back away. The monkey scratched at himself, but the jungle predator growled lowly. "I don't know a Sultana. I am here -

"Be still, Dark One," the larger of the beasts snarled, his whiskers twitching. His eyes were more tawny than the monkey, his orange and black fur bristled in irritation. His large tail flicked wildly, snakelike. "Your lady is in danger. Sultana Jasmine can help your princess."

Killian tried to lunge forward, but the tiger was quick despite its size, pinning him on the deck.

"How did you -" Killian panted, unable to push off its heavy weight as the Anisapi held him with ease, his paws massive. "How do you know about the princess? Who are -"

Emma whimpered, Killian turning his head to see the monkey resting its fur covered knuckles against her forehead.

Thrashing wildly, Killian swore as the monkey reached for her necklace and the shard. "Leave her alone, don't you lay a bloody paw on her -"

"Abu!" The tiger Anisapi growled lowly, and the monkey stopped short, pouting. "Don't even think about it. You are in enough trouble as it is."

"I just wanted to -" The monkey protested, but the tiger snarled viciously.

"You're upsetting our guests you furry toothpick."

"To be fair mate," Killian hissed, pressing back against the tiger's hold, "You're the only one who is upsetting me. Get off of me, tell me who you are, and how the hell you knew we were here."

The tiger's ears pressed lower on his head, but he sprung off of Killian to allow them both to stand. Killian pushed past them to check Emma, the monkey scooting away sheepishly.

"Our Sultana predicted that you would come, seeking her aid. I am her advisor, Raja." The tiger Anisapi bowed low, his stature even at half height impressive. Emma shivered against him, burying her face into Killian’s warm chest. Raja gestured at the monkey, with a twirl of his claw. "This is her…"

The tiger exchanged a nervous look with the other Anisapi, before the monkey spoke.

"I'm her new assistant. Abu, at your service." The monkey winked at Emma with a grin, and she laughed slightly. Turning carefully in Killian’s hold with little noises of protest every so often, he heard her stiff joints creaking from fever.

All your fault. You made her suffer, you make anyone who you are close to suffer. Imagine, thinking you loved her, or that she could love you!

You'd destroy her. Ruin her.

"I'm -" Emma attempted, but could not push any more words past her parched lips. She tried again, but doubled over instead as Killian’s guilt suffocated him without relent.

Do you think she remembers it was you yet?

Maybe she won't remember until she takes in her last gulps of air, wouldn't that be poetic? Certainly sounds like our flare for dramatics…

Imagine her final moments knowing that you were her murderer, the one who she tried so hard to trust. So much for choosing to see you at your best, eh vessel?

"It's alright. We know who you are, Princess… and we are aware of your companion. The Sultana knew you would be ill. Make haste to the palace, both of you, at once." Raja handed Killian a scroll, Abu unrolling another carpet onto the deck. "We have rooms made up for you both and healers at the ready. Hurry, Dark One."

Abu and Raja moved back to their carpet, which lifted into the air, its gold and royal purple threads shimmering in the sunlight. They sped away towards the city, leaving Emma and him alone again on the deck. She hummed against him, drawing her legs up into his hold before going limp again.

"I want to go home. I want my mom." Her forehead rubbed against his chest, dampening his shirt. "Please, stay with me. I feel so - please ---"

Killian couldn't reply, everything caught in his throat or tucked away from the Darkness. Emma didn't seem to notice, to his relief, her eyes fluttering closed. She slept soundly within seconds. Carrying her to the enchanted rug, he pulled her into his lap without comment, noticing how light she had become in only a week's time.

You knew she wasn't eating, she wasted away in front of you and you knew that it was your fault. You condemned her to die, another reason your love was imagined. You did this to her. You will be her demise. Get the shard, let her -

"NO!" Killian hissed, the carpet beneath him shuddering to life. It lifted itself, bright reds, oranges and turquoise dancing over the deck. He'd come back and grab their belongings, but for now, Emma needed whatever anyone was willing to give.

It was his hand that had caused this as he squeezed her beating heart, his hands that had tore her from the island, thrown away medicine into the sea, ignored her symptoms, and let her get this bad.

We get the shard then and we leave, never to hurt her again. She will beg for you to leave her when she learns this is all your fault. The quicker you can get the shard, the better… It would be a shame if she remembered how you crushed her heart with glee.

Her hair tickled his chin, blowing in the wind as the palace towers appeared. The scroll had been a very easy to follow set of instructions with a map to a far balcony where they would land. Once there, the carpet landed gently on tiled floor, servants appearing in procession. If this was an ambush, it couldn't have been planned better, the group surrounding them against a sheer drop. His neck hair rose, sweat beading there despite his best efforts. The Sultana was draped in blush silks, her dark brown hair seeded with pearls that lay in a golden mesh wrapped plait. She watched Killian warily, eyes darting to Emma as the princess began to wheeze. Taking a deep breath, he hoped beyond measure that they had not fallen into a trap of some kind.

"She's barely conscious." Killian moved forward, guards raising curved blades to protect the Sultana. "Please, if that's what you brought us here for, the princess needs help."

The Sultana looked at him, her deep brown eyes narrowing. She stared for a few seconds, blinking with a strange sort of unsure confusion in her eyes before finally straightening.

"I am the Seer of the Sands, Sultana Jasmine." Jasmine's voice was soft and melodic, accented words clipped with formality. "May my sight be your own, and may we see all."

Her guards lowered their weapons, making the symbol of an eye with their index and middle fingers while muttering some short devotion. Killian glared, grunting at the decorum happening in favor of Emma's health.

"Great, do you have a healer or help for her, or -"

"Yes, of course Dark One." The Sultana nodded. "Come, follow me."

Killian hadn't noticed before, but as he hoisted Emma further against his shoulder, he became aware of why the procession had unnerved him. The Sultana was clearly Fae of some sort, but the group surrounding her was made up of Anisapi, Elves, Fae, Nymphs, Mortals, and more frightening, a few Goblins. His nose wrinkled in disgust as he held Emma tighter to him.

The Sultana led them nearby, pushing open thick wood doors to reveal a courtyard with a small pool and fountain. A shaded set of chairs were canopied by gauzy linens, with two sets of double doors on the far end. One was open revealing a hallway butted against a balcony looking over the city. The other had linen drapes that blew in the breeze, providing some curtained privacy to another chamber.

"Down that hallway is your quarters, Dark One. Here," the Sultana opened the first set of doors, motioning Killian to enter, "Is where my Doctors and best healers will treat the Princess Emma."

The room was a polished sand colored marble, bed small but neatly made against a large stained glass window. Strange countertops on wheels were positioned with various bottles and instruments on them, and as Killian eased Emma into the bed he realized that a group of Fae were watching him expectantly in wait. Emma protested weakly when he let go of her to step out of their way, her soft exclaim falling to a sigh when a syringe filled with something the color of mud was injected into her arm.

"Come." The Sultana linked her arm with Killian’s, his body jolting. She stared deeply into his eyes, ignoring his hatred for her touch, walking him to sit at the pool. "You must have questions, yes? And you must tell us what you know to help save Princess Emma. We must speak."

"Not bloody likely." He wrenched away, pushing back towards where Emma lay still. "What did they just inject her with? I don't care if you're a sodding queen, what are you doing with the princess? How did you know we were coming?"

"I am Sultana Jasmine, Seer -"

"I know who you bloody are, how did you know!?"

"If you had listened , rude man in my kingdom, you would know I can see the future. I see its many paths, and I have premonitions. It is how I have kept my Agrabah so safe; the gift of my mother, a Djinn." She tried to lay a hand on him again, but he backed away, sitting in a corner where he could see Emma clearly. An Elven man with gloved hands was pouring a soft gel over her forehead that glowed a dulled color on contact. Others scribbled notes while a siren carefully peeled away the princess’s sweaty clothes with care, laying down a blanket of sheer silk. The Sultana cleared her throat expectantly, and his eyes flicked back to her with annoyance.

"A Djinn?" he asked, incredulously. Djinn did not have offspring as far as he knew; they were born of chaos or created.

"Yes. The premonitions are the reason I knew you would come." The Sultana hesitated, watching him carefully. He stared back, trying to ignore the Darkness and remain impassive. "If you had not come, the princess would have died in three days time. Here, you have a better chance, in the paths I saw."

The news brought an onset of instant relief and elation. He couldn't hide from the Sultana or the Darkness how happy it made him to know Emma would be alright, his words tumbling out without care.

"So you know she will be healed, and what the future holds -"

"Oh, God's no." The Sultana laughed, the sound lilting.

You pathetic simpleton. Your princess is as good as dead, and all thanks to you.

"No…?"

"We will do our best to help her, and she should recover."

"Ah." He swallowed hard.

"The paths I see are infinite, and I can only see so many. Like branches on a tree, I can see which direction the limbs go, or how large the tree is from a glance. It's when I need to see the branches and leaves that causes me to focus. You can only take in so much. So no, but I saw some outcomes, and what we are doing now will help prevent what negative outcomes I can." She smiled softly, her brown eyes warm.

"How can we know that you are trustworthy?" Killian asked, leveling a cold glare at her. Her smile didn't waiver, but grew wider.

"I suppose you can't, but if we wanted you dead, I have plenty of viper poison at my disposal that could kill you in mere minutes. Since you don't seem to be able to die according to the legend, it would be a painful way to suffer in unending agony, that's for sure." The Sultana shrugged, with a wink. "I suppose we will have to have faith in each other, yes?"

He nodded slightly, and the Sultana turned, taking her leave.

After an hour or so of watching different concoctions poured over Emma and watching countless Fae or Elementals write notes, he excused himself to his room. A dwarf with a shocking cobalt beard and studded eyebrows dragged in a large wash basin, not spilling any of the steaming water within. He grunted at Killian, dropping a few bottles and a large towel on a table before leaving. Without a second thought, Killian stripped to dip himself in the tub. The water was hot enough to pink his skin, but the heat felt right in the airy room as he scrubbed himself raw.

Eventually, Killian felt his thoughts slip to Emma, marveling briefly how well Jasmine and she would get on, even though he had only just met Agrabah's ruler. Of course, Emma loved everyone, because she was too trusting, too bloody good for her own well-being. The Sultana though, seemed genuine. She seemed caring. A person who Emma would find a kinship with.

If she survives to meet her.

He buried his head in the steaming water, wishing he could rinse the Darkness and the doubt that ate away at him clean.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The Darkness did not let him rest as the hours crept past, plaguing him with all manner of its devices, his teeth grinding as he tried to ignore it. It was easy enough to enjoy the heated water, the silks, the fresh fruit and drink that seemed to appear without end as servants politely knocked to leave tray after tray, even with the whine of it in the back of his head. But the unfamiliar feeling of wrong was wearing on Killian’s last nerve. It felt empty, as if the color was muted or his senses were dampened.

Your senses are as sharp as ever, you delusional idiot.

Killian chewed slowly on a date, trying to place the feeling while battling with the nasally voice. When he ignored it too long, it fell back on another of its old stand-by irritants sure to get a rise.

“You’re the picture of a Lord now, Killian. The Blackwater family name lives on as a Jones.”

He choked slightly, his father’s voice echoing in his mind, the sneer on the man’s face as he glared across his desk flashing in his memories. Brennan Jones, surrounded by stacks of papers in his paneled study. Surrounded by his portraits of their ships, the Jones men of the Blackwater fighting war after bloody war for whoever was warring with who, at the expense of anyone but the royals themselves. Survival was guaranteed at a certain level of nobility, his father all but too happy to have two fit lads he could send away to gain glory while he bought or sold ships of lesser born men. Alice Jones had fought to keep Liam and Killian from the truths of their worth and the world for as long as she could. They had always had her love, and her support.

When she had died, it was like the colors of the world had muted where there was light, allowing Liam and him to see what they hadn’t before. In the shadows, the truth stalked. It bore down on them as they grew - Liam into the serious next in line Lordling that fought with Father over lives lost or cut corners, and Killian, who hid his hatred poorly but was the easier target. Liam couldn’t be everywhere at once.

Brennan Jones, the master of all things in the Blackwater dominion, was keenly aware of Liam’s every limitation. He was more aware of Killian’s.

“Come now, m’boy. Waiting hand and foot on a Princess, and in the harem den of a Sultana feeding on sunned fruits - You spat on such futures when I presented them to you. You wonder why there is no color, no vigor in your blood… Your answer, is it hard to swallow?”

He threw away the fruit in disgust, the cruel laugh of his father a bellowing echo in his brain. Opening the doors to bring more air into his suffocating suite, he nearly ran headlong into a brightly colored mass of feathers. It squawked in surprise, raising arms ending in long plumess, the red and blue flashing in the light.

“I’m - My Lord I -” A platter of something clattered to its bird taloned feet, as it stared at him with beady eyes over a mouth that tapered into a beak. More bird than Fae, but not an Anisapi, the reptilian skin and strange stature was wrong. The creature took a step back, its ears poking out under its crest, and the pieces clicked together.

A spy, a snake, sent to watch you!

“Why are you here?” Killian snarled, kicking the tray out of the way, the Goblin flinching back further. “Who sent you? Did you think I wouldn’t recognize poison?”

Kill it! Kill it, and kill -

“My Lord, the kitchens - I simply work in the kitchens, my name is Iago -” The Goblin moved to grab the tray, but Killian was on him faster, wrenching his wing behind the creature’s back. “Please - I - what have I done, my Lord?”

Raja appeared from where Emma’s room lay, to Killian’s relief, moving towards them with purpose.

“This thing tried to -” Killian thrust the Goblin forward , twisting its feathered arm to turn it.

Raja cut him off, roughly tackling Killian to the floor. “Iago, did this Fae hurt you?”

Kill them ALL vessel, get the shard, take it and leave nothing but broken -

“No, no, Raja sir, I don’t -”

“Did I hurt IT ?” Killian roared, staring in disbelief. “That bloody fucking Goblin -”

“Has been in the service of the kitchens here, since before your enemy was born.” Raja growled lowly. “He served the past Sultan and the Divining Light of the Desert Oasis, the Sultana Aura. He now serves the Seer of the Sands, Sultana Jasmine, and will serve her until the day her sight should ever fail us, forbid it to happen. He is no enemy of yours, Dark One, or your Princess.”

"Do it, do as I command, son! You worthless, whining, awful child. Do it. Liam would have! Liam had honor! He should be alive instead of you."

Killian only grunted in return, Raja standing quickly and offering a large paw. He swatted it aside, glaring at the trembling Goblin as he stood.

“Do not send it up here again,” he hissed. The Goblin looked helpless, and Raja scowled.

“He will, or your princess will no longer have me as her guard,” Raja rumbled out, his dark eyebrows raising in challenge as he bared his teeth. “Your choice.”

Killian gritted his teeth, glancing between the two.

“Please let him stay, Killian.” Emma’s soft whisper was barely audible, but his gaze immediately snapped to look at her. She leaned against the door to her room further up the hallway, the wind blowing the gauzy white curtains behind her. Still pale and flushed, when she stumbled slightly, both Iago and Raja were by her side within moments.

"You are pathetic. Even Liam knew it, he told you he never cried when he took your lashes because he knew that you would never be anything more than a nuisance if you knew the truth."

“Princess, you shouldn’t -” Iago said softly, his Feathers bristling.

"Everyone knew you were pathetic, but Liam took the brunt of it so you could try and be something worthwhile. You failed everyone so completely, and now you can't even protect the key to your freedom resting on that chain."

“Iago, you promised me you would help with my dreams,” Emma moaned slightly as they helped her back through the doorway, the curtains tangling around her slightly. “I want you to stay. You are fine, like none of the Goblin folk I have ever met. Please, please don’t stay away. Killian should have been told - ”

"You could take it, you could make someone get it for you. You won't though, will you, son? You know she's going to die because of you. You don't have to be a failure this time, this time you could be free!"

“He attacked an innocent staff member because he is garbage specist scum,” Raja gritted out, Emma shaking her head emphatically in disagreement. “Iago could have been hurt -”

“I’m fine Raja, really,” Iago insisted. “My wing is fine, I was just surprised. Let’s drop it.”

“I don’t trust that thing, Emma,” Killian hissed. Raja stood taller, squaring his shoulders, but Emma raised her chin.

"She should not trust you. No one should."

“Leave us,” she whispered. Raja and Iago bowed quickly, leaving with a few of her medical team who were watching with confusion. Killian watched her slow movements, his fingers twitching when her hand rubbed hard against the column of her throat.

Get the shard.

"Yes, m'boy, get the shard. Get it and you will have everything you ever want."

"Well,” she said with a tired sigh, settling into her cot. She looked exhausted, but he noticed that more unsettling was her irritation with him. “Hey. I know we haven’t - I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but... Can you stop pissing off the staff and abusing them? It’s not exactly making an unpleasant stay anymore pleasant."

She coughed, looking at him pointedly.

"Nothing has been pleasant with her around."

"Fine,” he grumbled. She nodded and laid back, with a sigh of relief.

“Now… Good morning. Are you alright? I had wondered if you left. I hadn’t seen you in so long.”

We should have left. We should have taken the shard and -

Killian scratched behind his ear, frowning. “Good morning, Princess. If I leave I’ll say my goodbyes to you beforehand, but I - I haven’t made any plans,” he admitted, quietly. “How are you feeling?"

"Honestly?" Emma whispered, her voice a dry and shrill echo of her normal honey timbre. "Like shit."

Good. Let her perish. Once we get the shard, that is.

"You must be feeling somewhat better to forego your usual regal manner of speaking," he teased.

“You are one to talk. What you did - Killian, I can’t -” She pinched the bridge of her nose before violently wheezing into another coughing fit. “I’m so mad at you right now, and I don’t have the energy to be mad. Why? Just -”

“That thing is a Goblin! That’s why!” Killian interrupted, looking at her with disbelief.

“Just, can you please give him a chance?” When he didn’t answer, she shook her head sadly. “I’m so tired, and I can’t… I can't keep fighting with you. I can't have this dynamic anymore…” Trailing off, he felt a heaviness in his chest, the ache becoming more common. Was he sick as well?

"What is wrong with you?"

“I said - I said fine! Fine.” He shrugged. “Fine, it’s sodding fine. It’s your bloody funeral.”

“Would you show up to my funeral, just to say I told you so?” Emma chuckled lightly, but he didn’t return her smile.

“Depends on the menu you serve,” Killian replied dryly, shrugging. She smiled slightly, looking at him expectantly. His frown deepened as he carded his hand through his hair. “I’m just worried for you, and I -”

“I’ve been more worried about you,” Emma stated without irony. The Darkness scoffed in his Father's voice.

She hummed, eyes closing and a cough rattling her chest. "You've been acting weird, and not just because I'm sick. This whole fight, this attack, how awful you've been lately to me and anyone else crossing your path… It’s not the you I know. I thought honesty and a little bit of snark -" Emma broke into more hacking, taking deep gulps of air. She reached for his hand, but he snatched it away, making a point of not looking at her directly after he saw her face fall.

This is why you must leave!

"I'll go get you some more water." He stood, dusting himself off. The ache in his chest was sharper, coupled with a feeling of shame. The Darkness tried to press at him to be angry, to attack her again, to insult and belittle her as he had done on board the ship but he refused.

"No, wait - please stay, don't leave me here alone already." Emma reached out for him, but he walked away briskly towards a servant. She started coughing again, the steady decline of her health making it harder for her to breathe. "Killian, please?" she whimpered, but he rounded the corner as fast as he could get away from her. It wasn't the first time he had fled from her as she fought whatever illness had taken hold.

His room sat behind her own, the walk out of the wing putting him in full view of where she rested. It had worried him at first, the open air home to the wind, pests, and sand, but a caregiver had eased his thoughts by mentioning a protective spell around the room. Emma seemed eased by the breezes, which had given way to his taciturn reluctance to be anywhere near where she was. Several times she had called out for him, once even attempting to follow after him until she stumbled into the arms of a nurse.

When they were forced into conversation by Jasmine's crafty handiwork, Emma continued to question him about what came to pass in their shared dream. She was remembering more and more, specific details that made him squirm in his seat. She believed wholeheartedly they were simply dreams, but as they continued he caught her glances at him more and more. Her lingering looks, the blush in her cheeks that she tried to will away with a bite to her lip, the soft tone she said his name in - it all was entirely too much to be close to.

It was as if his body wanted her desperately, her closeness addicting, but the Darkness and his common sense screeched at the reaction. Running from her was cowardice, but necessary.

He spent time wandering the stalls of the market, numbly taking in the scents of foreign spices and the colors of vibrant silks.

Get the shard and leave. Run away to freedom, take your life back from the hands of the weak Princess. Leave her behind. You're doing her a favor by abandoning her before we break her.

The Darkness chattered non stop, its grating voice a low hum in the front of his mind. Deeper, there was an echo that he clung too, even if it was in whispers. It pointed at emerald pendants that caught the light, sparkling at him, and the patterns embroidered in the clothing the Agrabah people favored, hung on display. Golden swans swimming in unfurled blooms across damask and silk, a jeweled veil that went along to match made him pause, his fingers sliding along the fabric of their own will.

"Pretty silks for a pretty woman in your life, yes?" The shopkeeper grinned, eyeing Killian with narrowed eyes.

"No, I'm afraid I don't have -"

The shopkeeper scoffed, swatting at his hand with annoyance. "Then look with your eyes, and begone."

He blinked at the man's bluntness, turning away with a snort of laughter. Emma would have loved this. If she were here, she would have charmed the man into giving her the bloody outfit for free, just because that was the beauty of who she was -

The Darkness whined louder, as if it could sense his weakness. He fled, not to his ship where he had once felt nothing but comfort - no, that was filled with her too, her smell, her laughter; the bed was still a twisted mess of covers from where she had lain ill. He could see her there, or worse still, the images of them together, curled around each other in a gentle doze. Being there was like a candle being smothered, the air taken from every space.

It took a few days of wandering, but he found a makeshift place to rest away from the palace that suited him. It had been, or was, a home of some vagabond at one point, cloth rags curtaining what had once been a wall, a full view of the palace and sky, while broken produce crates had been placed to use as shelves. A threadbare rug lay on the dusty floor, next to a straw pallet.

Killian did not use the bed, instead sitting on the edge of the wall, looking out over the view as he tried to lose himself.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?"

The voice startled him, his head whipping around to see the man approaching him cautiously. He was dark haired, a true shock of it that was swept back in a messy swipe, his large brown eyes regarding Killian with a wary curiosity.

"Sorry mate. Don't want trouble if this is your spot; just liked the view," Killian said evenly, not moving save to gesture at the palace.

The man nodded, moving to sit across from Killian, producing two apples from his pocket. He threw one at Killian, who caught it easily.

"It is one heck of a view," he said simply. After a long moment of silence, he spoke again. "Do you think that the people who live there are happy?"

Killian tilted his head, looking out at the gleaming towers of the palace, and taking a bite of the apple. Chewing slowly, he swallowed hard without looking at the man. "No. I don't think there is much true happiness to be found there."

More silence followed, both men eating their apples. It was broken again by the stranger.

"Name is Aladdin, by the way."

"Killian."

"It was nice to meet you, but a word of warning. Trouble is coming for those in the palace - and they deserve every bit of it. You're new here. Stay clear if you know what's best for you." Aladdin wiped his fingers on his patched pants, and Killian frowned.

"Fair advice, but not very specific," Killian mused, shrugging off his frown before slouching back with false amusement. "What if I like getting into trouble? Is it worth my time to go seeking some fortune in their golden coffers?"

Aladdin narrowed his eyes, jaw jutting up slightly. Anger rippled across his face. "No. No treasure," he said, the words dripping venom. His anger seemed to dissipate as he frowned, staring at the dirty floor. "There isn't anything there for a common thief of a street rat."

"Then tell me what is worth stealing, if you aren't part of the usual riff raff." Killian smirked.

Aladdin hesitated, his earlier energy gone.

"I won't know until tomorrow. I get the orders, and then I grab the object." He scratched his head, adjusting his fez cap. "I just know that any chance I get to punish the Royals is a chance I'm willing to take. The Sultana is heartless. She's a diamond that blinds you before cutting you into ribbons."

Killian arched an eyebrow. "It rather sounds like you and this Sultana are more than intimately acquainted."

Aladdin glared, turning red in his cheeks. "She's much too grand for someone like me," he hissed out.

Killian nodded slowly. "Fine, I'll stay out of your way. I hope the job is worth it."

"When we're done, it will be." Aladdin grinned.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Days passed slowly as Emma begged for company, particularly his. The Sultana and her had taken to each other as soon as Emma began to improve, giggling together as he passed, eating meals together, or talking long into the evenings. Jasmine exerted pressure on him to join them, but Killian dodged her with a practiced finesse he hadn't used since the days before Milah, escaping his father's rages.

The Darkness still slithered in his mind relentlessly, bouncing back and forth between the voice of his captor the Goblin King, and his accursed father. The lack of rest coupled with the descriptions of his mother or a gory ending to Emma's life in Brennan Jones tongue was enough to turn Killian’s insides.

It's fitting you lose every woman in your life to tragedy, isn't it? All three, sickened into an early grave.

"Luckily, your mother never lived to know what you become. You would have her blood on your hands as well."

His mother had died so much like this, her frail body lost among the bedding as a healer sat nearby.

Killian was beyond relieved at the absence of everyone in the palace upon his return, when he saw the princess hobbling towards him in the hallway with a determined look in her eyes. He tried to find an escape, but beyond leaping out of the window, there were none. She bared down on him, menacing even as he took in her exhausted countenance.

"We," she gestured between the two of them, "Have a meeting in 5 minutes."

Killian shook his head. "I don't think - I'm unavailable for any sort of counsel. I'm sorry -"

Emma cut him off, with an annoyed wave of her hand. "Jasmine has been turning away suitors, and she mentioned that she was housing a sick woman with no known cure. Now, my life is tied to Jasmine's hand in marriage." Her voice broke slightly, but she was quick to cough, looking at him with hard eyes as her words dropped with wry, unhappy sarcasm. "You know, just royal things."

"The Sultana did what?" he hissed, anger beginning to course through him steadily. " Bloody hell , Emma, we need to -"

"I tried . Jasmine is bound by the law here, and I am bound by… I need a cure. These suitors of hers may have something that can rid me of this. One of them says he knows what this illness is." She pointed to her chest. "The healers Jasmine has blessed us with can keep treating the symptoms of this, but not for long. I - There's nothing else that can be done. I need a cure, and quickly."

"This doesn't concern me, or you. We will stay here while they -"

"Killian, you're not understanding me. I have no other options. This - this is a last resort that I'll be lucky to have work." Emma bit her lip, looking downcast. She did not meet his gaze as his rage grew into a panicked fury.

Swallowing hard, she wrapped her arms around her frail frame. "We need to talk, Killian. I've tried - The treatment isn't going to do much more than make my symptoms better until it doesn't. I don't have a lot of hope at this point." The last sentence was whispered, and she closed her eyes before wiping away wetness. "I wanted your input. The situation here just didn't, well, pan out… Therefore, I have named you as my second. Should I die, you will be the shard's owner."

You've killed her, vessel of mine. Maybe I was wrong about your usefulness after all! You've freed us, and the United Realms will fall for it.

"Your vengeance is finally within sight."

Killian struggled to breathe, the Darkness triumphantly purring in his mind. The secreted feelings he held close burned, disbelief at the possibility that he might lose her, that he was the cause of her death, of her pain. He stared at her, trying to focus on her words.

"Jasmine has helped me prepare all the documents that will be needed if Fae law ever returns to the realms." Emma pointed to the space on her chest where the shard had laid, its long chain empty. The absence of the silvery pendant was as jarring as the black bruise-like tinge of her skin underneath.

WHERE IS OUR SHARD!?

WHERE HAS THE SICK, SPENT, BITCH PUT IT!?

The Darkness screeched in many voices at once, each enraged as his eardrums pounded inside his skull. His fingers balled into fists, the urge to bruise, to make Emma suffer for this crushing him under its weight. He couldn't, he would never -

FIND IT FIND IT FIND IT AND PUNISH HER. FIND IT AND MAKE HER PAY -

"You gave it to someone else!?" Killian growled as he moved closer, dwarfing her. She took an uncertain step back, her breathing catching in her throat.

Emma gasped slightly, but choked out an answer with wide eyes. "It's alright. I trust the safety of it. Please -"

"You trust - You trust ?" Killian laughed darkly, grinning at her with a malicious sneer. "When has your trust ever been worth a bloody damn? Your trust is meaningless, your faith is worth nothing, and now you have forced me to follow by your side if I want my freedom."

RIP HER APART, GET THE SHARD!

"I made the deal, I need the cure. I am sorry, but you have to trust me on this. I wanted to discuss it, but…" She pleaded, but he refused to hear any of it. The Darkness rose like a tidal wave, furthering every bit of him that sparked with hatred. "It's done. I need you to know my funerary needs, just in case the cure fails, but first we have to meet these suitors - "

"I don't care, Princess. When are you going to understand that I don't want to be here? We aren't friends, I am not doing this out of good will or kindness like your naivete expects. I want to be free of you," he snarled, watching her shrink into a coughing fit. "Does it please you to leash me, Princess? Do you relish in having your faithful pet at your beck and call? I don't want to have your blood on my hands, by tether or not, but if you insist, I will make sure that you regret it."

"Killian, please, I -"

"THAT'S IT, M'BOY.

MAKE HER SUFFER."

"I don't want to be your second. I wouldn't want to be your fifth, or even your sixty-third!" Killian spat, his anger pouring out of him. His father's voice taunted him relentlessly, egging him on, and he could barely think over its noise. Something quieter tugged at him too, begging him to stop. It begged him to look at her tearstained face, and her clear horror as her hands rose to cover her mouth in shock. At the way she flinched back when he moved, or made a gesture, obviously in fear. He ignored it, lashing out as his father laughed. "You are an absolutely infuriating and insufferable companion; once you are healthy, you will give me the shard, we will end this alliance, and you will never see me again."

Emma stood in stunned silence for a long moment as he panted, before giving a short, barely there nod.

"As you wish," she whispered, finally meeting his eyes. They were nearly as bloodshot as his own as she trembled.

THE PRINCESS DESERVES THIS.

The smallest, barely there whisper was almost drowned out completely as it cried, trying to get him not to listen.

The Princess does not deserve any of this, or any of this rage. She's scared of you. You hurt her .

You caused this. You .

"Now, where the sodding fuck are these suitors? The sooner we get this finished, the better," he seethed, Emma pointing in silence to a set of double doors with thick golden inlay. He pushed them open forcefully, coming face to face with a familiar man dressed in traditional finery.

"Ah, Dark One. Princess." Jasmine gestured from her throne for them to approach. A group of men stood before her, giving bows as Emma was helped to a smaller chair next to Jasmine's, Raja gesturing at him to move so that Killian stood by her side. The men drew closer beckoned by Raja as he stood in front of his Sultana.

"The kingdom of Camelot has demanded the laws of the open palm be laid out, here forward," Raja boomed out. "The offer stands at a cure for the mystery illness plaguing her guest, given with an open palm, in return for the Sultana's hand in marriage. One by one, please present yourself. Tonight we dine together, and tomorrow you will begin seeking a cure. If the guest is injured, made worse, or dies from a proposed cure, the offer is void. If the guest dies before a cure is found, the offer is void."

"Thank you, Raja," Jasmine stated robotically. Her face was solemn, no hint of any emotion.

Raja nodded, then set his sights on the first of the four men.

The first was tall, and somehow sinewy, his fingers long around a golden cane shaped like a snake. His deep, wine and dark garnet robes were elaborately lined in golden embroidery that made his dark skin and eyes seem to glow as if lit by embers.

"I am Jafar." He bowed low, the deep plum jewel in his tall turban glinting in the light. "I was the vizier of this kingdom at one time, and helped the queen navigate life with her Djinn powers. I have come to seek a place for my wisdom once more."

Jafar's thick, syrupy voice made Killian want to shudder, but what was more unnerving was that the man had spared no glance to his would be bride, or Emma. Jafar had leveled his gaze straight into Killian’s own, blinking slow, and never looked away even as his lips curled into a smirk.

Killian tore his eyes away with difficulty as the next man began to speak. He was dressed in a grey and blue chiton, the silver clasps accentuating his pale skin, red hair, and matching the ice of his pinched glare at Emma.

"I am Hades, named for the God and blessed by him to rule the Southern Hills. I conquered the Amazons, defeated the monsters this world let loose, and I alone tamed the great Titans of the old world until they grew too willful. I crushed them, and will crush anything in my path with ease should I gain your foresight." He knelt, dragging his glare from Emma to stare up at Jasmine. "You may not be my Persephone, but you will be a beautiful prize, hard won."

A knight dressed in leather studded mail bowed low next, dark hair and cheerful eyes matched by a blinding smile. He looked between both Jasmine and Emma with a prideful grin.

"I am Arthur, the reason we are all here, King of Camelot, Holder of the Sword of Pure Truth, given to me by the spirit of Lake Nostros. I come to ask for either of your hands in marriage." Emma visibly tensed, and Killian swallowed back the urge to glare. "I am in need of a queen who loves her people, her kingdom, and her king. I thought I had that once, but betrayal and hardship is not unknown to any of us. I hope to not only heal you, Princess Emma, but potentially bring you or the beautiful desert diamond Sultana Jasmine happiness. You both deserve it, along with the utmost peace."

Arthur's eyes flicked to Killian briefly, and there was a glimmer of something that felt dishonest and unclean. It was gone so quickly it had to be imagined as Killian looked at the last man once more.

His dark shock of hair was laid under a turban, the bright peacock feather in it held on by a glittering plum jewel. His face was familiar, large dark eyes and long eyelashes full of mirth and trepidation, as if he didn't quite belong. Killian looked harder, trying to place him. Was he a courtier? No, that couldn't be. Had he been in the market? The realization hit him, putting him immediately on edge. Aladdin winked at Killian in his disguise, as he purred out an introduction.

"I am Shah Ali of Ab'dua," Aladdin smirked up at the three of them. "And I will easily win your heart, as well as cure the Princess Emma. It's an absolute pleasure to meet you both."

#Courtorderedcake #18th #June #2020 #June 18th 2020 #Hallow #My writing #CSSNS 2019 #CSSNS #I'm so close to being done #God #What a relief #Fuuuuck #Captain Swan #CS AU #CS FF #CS AU FF #CS FIC

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katlimeart · 2 years ago

Photo

Made in 2016, 2017 + 2018

If you’ve seen this anywhere else, I posted it back on my deviantArt when it was made.

Mario girls cosplaying as characters from the Dark Parables franchise

1. Serafina - requested by roseprincessmitia

2. Druid - requested by moon-shadow-1985

3. Evil Godmother - requested by moon-shadow-1985

4. Mercy - requested by roseprincessmitia

5. Moon Goddess - requested by moon-shadow-1985

6. Odette - requested by moon-shadow-1985

7. Princess Elise - requested by moon-shadow-1985

8. Sea Goddess (Thalassa) - requested by moon-shadow-1985

9. Cyrilla Belloni - requested by moon-shadow-1985

10. Fairy Queen - requested by moon-shadow-1985

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piracytheorist · 5 years ago

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To Give One’s Trust (1/1)

Note: Written for @csrolereversal! I must admit that I'd nearly given up and dropped out of the event, but with the help and encouragement of @darkcolinodonorgasm and @artistic-writer, the latter of whom also provided the magnificent art above that inspired this story, I managed to set a smaller, but more attainable goal and finish just in time to participate!

Summary: Captain Hook has been a werewolf for centuries, in control of his wild state. When he gets kidnapped and experimented upon, his desperate actions to escape have dire consequences for him. When Emma Swan meets a feral werewolf on a night with a full moon, she can sense that there's something more to that creature. Perhaps, with the right amount of trust, she can help him help himself.

Warnings: Violence (yep, there's whump), blood, and near the end, a minor character death that’s a bit graphic.

Word count: ~6k AO3

In all his centuries and past torments, Captain Hook had never imagined he’d be brought to such a horrid state.

He’d known better, of course, than to make hopeful dreams for his future. He’d turned pirate because of his brother’s death; he’d surrounded his thoughts with a thirst for revenge because of Milah’s death; he had nothing more to live for...

Except, ever since that damned werewolf bit him, dying had stopped being an option.

And his current tormentors seemed to be aware of that. Actually, he wouldn’t call them tormentors, not exactly. Sure, they spared no sympathy for the pain they were causing him, no reaction to his screams, but overall they were only... testing. Potions, spells, curses, incantations, anything dark magic could conjure up.

They were of course aware of the fact that he couldn’t die and that his healing abilities worked ten times faster than of a normal human. So after they were done experimenting on him for the day, they’d leave him rest, curled up in a pool of his own blood, shivering, as he waited for his multiple wounds to heal. Then they’d come back the next day to continue their experiments.

He could swear that the worst was during the nights he turned. All of his senses were heightened then, as well as his healing, and the experiments got even worse - besides, they had to try the different application of some of them on a three-legged canine.

But that wasn’t the worst.

The worst was the Dark One watching.

He never laid a finger on him as his minions worked on the experiments he was ordering. He only watched, standing outside the cage Hook was kept in, sometimes even smiling at him. Sometimes he stayed after the other men had left, and watched him as Hook struggled to keep his sobs quiet, to not let the Dark One hear them.

Two months being experimented upon and most nights with Rumpelstiltskin watching he managed to keep quiet; that he considered a small victory.

He had made peace with his werewolf nature; thanks to meeting a werewolf pack during his first months of being one, he’d managed to learn to control himself, and for centuries, the night of full moon was just another night. Sometimes, seeing the moon grow larger could even bring him some excitement. The joy brought by running as a wolf could easily come close to the one of sailing in the open seas.

Now, that same sight only brought a reminder of a harsher, more painful night.

Some nights, when his body hurt too much for sleep to claim him, he’d look at the moon peeking outside the window and wonder how long he’d have to endure that.

It didn’t take much longer. Just one night before his third full moon there, Rumpelstiltskin got too close, and Hook was just too desperate. With surprising agility, considering his injuries, he plunged his hook into the Dark One’s arm... who was too keen on gloating about the pain he’d been ordering on him to notice Hook’s eyes dropping to the dagger on his belt.

It only took two swift moves to pull it out and bury it deep inside Rumpelstiltskin’s chest.

It was the moment Hook felt his mind stop working. He could watch. He watched Rumpelstiltskin fall on his side, dead. He watched a blast of magic leave him, destroying his cage and incapacitating - killing? - his tormentors before they had a chance to run. He watched the environment change around him as he moved - ran? - outside, to who knew where.

But he wasn’t seeing.

His senses were being assaulted by memories; all the deaths he’d witnessed, with the pain they were accompanied by, striking as if brand new; his torments, from as old as the ones in his childhood, to losing his hand, to the one he’d suffered just that day.

And the most intense of it all, hearing his name whispered around him.

Killian Jones. Killian Jones. Killian Jones.

It was daytime when he woke up. He was lying in the middle of a forest, with the bloodied rags he wore in the torture chamber, but all of his wounds healed up, way faster than even his werewolf healing offered.

He wanted to wonder how that could be, but he knew it would be simple denial now.

He was the Dark One. The cursed dagger was in his hand, Rumpelstiltskin’s crusted blood still on it, the name Killian Jones engraved on the blade.

He could already feel something pulsating under his skin. He could hear birds chirping a little too loud next to him, and he was overcome with an urge to kill them. He wanted... something. He wanted to burst out on someone, and the damn forest was too deserted.

The violent thoughts kept coming and coming, and had it been any other day, he’d have simply ignored them or drowned them in a flask of rum.

But that night there’d be a full moon. He’d turn by the first moonbeam, and if his thoughts were already surrounded with an urge of violence, how could he be sure they wouldn’t get even more intense after he turned? Everything was more intense in wolf form. Sight. Hearing. Taste. The taste of flesh.

First, the dagger. The safest place to hide it was his safe at the Jolly Roger, as the only way to open it was with his hook, and his hook always disappeared to... wherever, when he turned, so it would be safe until he turned back into a human.

He held the dagger tight, closed his eyes and thought of his cabin. When he opened them, he was there.

His cabin was as tidy as he could remember leaving it. He didn’t allow any emotions over the loyalty of his crew over the nearly three months he’d been missing; he had to be quick lest someone saw him.

After he secured the dagger, he spent all afternoon building a special cage to keep himself in. Hard, thick steel bars, heavy chains around his limbs and torso, enchanted to stay stuck on his skin and not break by brute force, completed by a blindfold as soon as the sun set.

He lay down, conjuring up thick vines to keep his body pinned to the ground, trying not to think just how easy it was to use magic, and focused on his breath.

I am the wolf.

I am in control.

I am...

Emma sighed as she conjured up a few more flames, stoking the campfire. She looked at it, trying to concentrate on the dancing colours to keep her mind off their plans for tomorrow. There was no use worrying over it now, she had already volunteered to help invade the Evil Queen’s castle to bring her down. She didn’t fear her; but she had no doubt she would have doubled her defences, maybe even hired more magicians to help her fight Emma and her parents’ army.

But again, all she should do now was try to relax as much as possible. She was already losing sleep with all that stress, and she needed to be strong tomorrow...

A pang of guilt rushed through her when she heard footsteps behind her. Damnit, now they’d start acting like she was a child, and why isn’t she asleep yet, and Emma, you need to rest, we need your magic...

Instead, she only heard an exaggerated gasp. “Shouldn’t you be asleep, young lady?”

Emma bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. She turned around, finally losing it at Elsa’s over-the-top dramatic face. But Elsa quickly dropped the mockery and sat down next to her.

“At least we can chat to pass the time,” Elsa said.

“Yeah.”

Elsa seemed to notice Emma’s nervousness. “Hey,” she said. “It’s gonna be alright. We’ll have the castle by this time tomorrow.”

“And I’ll take my rightful place as ‘Princess of Misthaven’.”

Elsa simply smiled softly at her, taking her hand in hers. “I’ll always be here, you know. If anything, I know what it feels like to not believing it when people keep telling you you have a place with them.”

Emma nodded, staying silent. The famous lost princess of Misthaven, separated from her parents as soon as she was born, only being found after more than two decades of not belonging anywhere... it’s not that her parents pressured her in anything. But she appreciated having someone to get what she was feeling. Her parents had spent all that time loving her, hoping to find her, while she had spent that time hating them, thinking they’d abandoned her. Such dark thoughts weren’t easy to let go of after so long of having been part of her.

“Thank you,” she said eventually, blinking away a tear.

“So,” Elsa said, “maybe we can lighten up? Play something, a word game or-”

Both their heads perked up towards the bushes at the sound of rustling twigs. They got up, preparing their magic, focusing on any other sound of their attacker. Before Emma could conjure up more flames to help them see better, they saw a dark figure lunge towards them. Emma shrieked, releasing a wave of force magic as Elsa raised a wall of ice in front of them. Through it, they saw the figure hit a tree behind it, then fall gracelessly on the ground. Emma finally conjured up those flames, immediately noticing the form struggling to get up.

“A wolf?” Elsa said.

“No. It’s something... more. I can feel it’s magical.” Emma walked towards it.

She spotted Elsa looking around at the sky. “It’s full moon. A werewolf?”

“No. I mean... yeah, probably, but... I feel something more.” When she was just a few feet away, the wolf jumped up, growling at her and preparing to attack.

Elsa conjured ice around his apparently three paws, keeping him in place. That only lasted a second though, as the wolf looked down at the ice and it immediately melted away.

“He can use magic?!”

Emma closed her eyes, focusing on the deeper magic inside of her as she extended her arms. The werewolf lunged again right then, but a magic sphere appeared around him, immobilizing him mid-air.

“I just need a few seconds,” Emma said. “Keep him frozen somehow so that I can create a magic cage around him.”

As Elsa struggled to keep him immobilized, continuously creating ice around him as he made it melt away, Emma concentrated on her magic again. Somehow, this wolf seemed to have quite powerful magic, and more magic than usual was needed to restrain him. Thick bars appeared around him, enclosing him in a cage wide enough for him to move and even stand when he’d turn back into a human, and Elsa let go.

Immediately, the wolf went for the bars, biting and swatting at them with his paws, but they wouldn’t give. He stepped back, curled inwards, then a blast of force magic left him and struck the bars, but again, nothing happened.

Emma and Elsa sighed, feeling a bit weary after the fight, and kept watching as the wolf, almost without rational thought, kept attacking the bars with force and magic no matter how fruitless his efforts were.

“Go and try to sleep,” Emma told Elsa, whose shoulders were noticeably slouched. “I’ll stay to make sure he doesn’t escape. Though I believe the cage will be strong to hold him overnight.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

Emma just nodded. As Elsa walked away, back to her tent, Emma turned her attention back to the wolf. She stepped towards the cage, close enough to see him better, but far enough to make sure he couldn’t reach her.

A magical werewolf. Actually, an extra-magical werewolf, since such creatures were already considered to have magic in the first place. He growled at her when she got too close, actually backtracking in the cage.

Huh. Perhaps there was some sense left in him after all.

She could barely feel tired, even after having used all that magic. There was something about this wolf, and she just couldn’t stop imagining all the questions she’d ask him once he turned back into a human.

Technically, she could sleep. The cage proved to be strong enough, and she would need the rest, but she was simply too alert to relax now. She sat back on the log she was sitting on before, watching the poor wolf slam himself into the bars and exhausting himself with magic, again and again and again.

Until he nearly collapsed on the ground, trying to curl up into a ball... and weeping softly.

It was that, no doubt. He was crying, and Emma couldn’t help wondering if it was from exhaustion, pain after hitting the bars so many times... or pure despair.

She wrapped her arms around her torso and leaned forward, trying to will away her memories of feeling so desperate she cried.

She woke up with the first sunbeam. She jumped up, panicking momentarily until her bleary vision cleared and she saw the wolf still inside the cage. When the beams reached his cage, a thick black cloud surrounded him, and when it dissipated, a man was at its place.

Emma stepped closer, taking a good look at him. He didn’t appear to have a left hand; in its place was a metal hook, secured on a brace that was wrapped with leather loops around his left arm. He looked tired, and even in pain, if she judged by the crease between his eyebrows. And - holy crap - he was barefoot, dressed in filthy, torn, blood-stained rags. But he didn’t seem to have any wounds, from what she could see.

Suddenly, his eyes popped open and he gasped, scaring her enough to elicit a short yelp, which in turn seemed to scare him, as he scrambled to his knees and arms and tried to move backwards, again gasping when he hit the bars behind him.

“It’s alright,” Emma said. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Where am I?” the man said.

“Just a few miles off...” she almost said “the Evil Queen’s castle” but thought better of giving away their plan. It only then occurred to her that he could have been a spy. “... Misthaven,” she ended up saying. “What’s your name?”

The man looked around the cage, then his face turned sober, serious. “Why am I in a bloody cage?”

“For our protection. And most likely, yours too.”

She saw him swallow hard. “Did I hurt anyone? As a...” His voice trailed off.

“A wolf? Not as far as I know.”

He looked away, a discomfort settling in his features. He seemed to grow more uncomfortable the longer he looked at the cage bars around him.

“Let me out of here,” he said finally.

Emma straightened up, assuming an authoritative stance. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. Not until you answer some of my questions.”

“Are you bloody serious?”

“You were out of control of your werewolf state. You could have harmed my people, for all I know you hurt innocents who crossed your path last night!”

The man fixed her with a stare, then simply stood up, straightening his shoulders too. He raised his hand, conjured up a fireball in it, looked at it with what she could swear was disdain, then hurled it towards the bars.

Emma managed to not flinch. There was a part of her that was uncertain of the effectiveness of the cage now that he was human, but she managed to keep a straight face as the man looked at his hand in surprise.

“What?”

“Yeah. You were just a bit of a nuisance yesterday night. I had to make things a bit more difficult for you.”

Though he seemed to register the words, he conjured another fireball, hurling it towards the bars, then another, and another. He then simply walked to the bars and looked at her angrily. “Get on with your questions, then!”

“What’s your name?”

He seemed to think for a moment. “Captain Hook.”

“Hook?” She looked briefly at his namesake appendage, then back at him. “Were you really out of control last night?”

He seemed confused at that. “What do you mean?”

“One can never be too careful. How do I know you’re not just pretending you have no idea what happened last night?”

“How would you know if I lied?”

Emma smiled. “Try me.”

Hook just looked at her for a moment, before his angry face relaxed a little. He sighed, then said, “I was out of control. I suspected it would happen, so I tied myself with chains, but apparently it wasn’t enough.”

Truth.

“You were using magic, even as a wolf.”

His eyebrows raised at that. “What?”

“After I trapped you in the cage, you kept trying to force your way out of it with magic.”

He looked down at his arms. “This must be how I managed to escape last night.”

Emma opted not to tell him that restraining him had required more magic than she was used to using. “You probably needed someone else’s magic used against you to keep you down.”

He shivered at that, his shoulders slouching forward. “Are you done with your questions?”

“Well, obviously, I can’t let you go without knowing you won’t be a danger tonight as well.”

“So what now? You’ll keep me here all day? I suspect you have better things to waste your time on, lass.”

He looked at her with an almost exhausted expression. For some reason, the way he said and worded that cut deep in her.

“How did you get your magic? I might be able to at least use a spell that will contain it when you’re in wolf form.”

“You keep your bloody magic away from me.”

“Oh, is that so? Perhaps you would like to spend the day in the cage, after all.”

Hook sighed. “I was cursed with it. Both the lycanthropy and the magic. I was in perfect control of my wolf form, but I was... recently cursed with magic, and so it seems, I lost control of the wolf because of it.”

“How were you cursed?”

He didn’t respond for a while. He looked around the cage, biting his lip, clenching his hand into a fist, until he looked at her and said, “Perhaps I would enjoy that night in that cage.”

Emma felt a shiver down her spine. He seemed too reluctant to share the details of his magic, and that wasn’t a good sign. Especially since he seemed to prefer a whole day of imprisonment over sharing it.

“Well, that won’t do then. If you couldn’t control the wolf yesterday, who’s to say you’ll manage that next month? I may have to keep you locked up until you manage that.” She cocked her head. “Perhaps that’ll motivate you.”

He sighed and looked away. “This is bloody ridiculous.”

Before he could turn back towards her, Emma leaned in between the bars and grabbed his hand in hers. He gasped, turning towards her, but didn’t snatch his hand away.

Emma, however, couldn’t let go from the shock. “You’re the Dark One.” Her eyes darted to a tattoo on his arm, a heart with the name ‘Milah’ written on it. She looked up at him, feeling yet another shiver.

His face turned grim, and he finally snatched his hand away. “What of it?”

“What of it?! You killed Rumpelstiltskin? How... when?!”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“The hell it does!” Without any assistance from Rumpelstiltskin, the Evil Queen had no hope against them.

She hadn’t realized she was slightly smiling until Hook said, “You seem quite amused at the news of his death.”

She straightened her face, and her stance as well. “Well... let’s say he wasn’t the best around.”

“That’s quite the understatement.”

“Is that why you killed him?”

“How did you know, anyway? That I am the Dark One?”

“I... well, I sensed it. I can’t really describe it.”

“Hm. Well, in any case, you’ve had your answer, one way or another. Can you let me go now?”

Emma crossed her arms, too uncertain of his intentions. Again, for all she knew, he was the Queen’s minion, sent to kill Rumpelstiltskin so she could assume control of him. “Who’s Milah?”

He swallowed hard, turning his arm so she couldn’t see the tattoo anymore. “Someone from long ago.”

She would never mistake that look on his face. The look of heartbreak, of unspeakable loss. “That’s why you killed him. Rumpelstiltskin.”

He stayed silent, only looked at her, then away again.

Emma looked back at her camp, seeing people having woken up, occasionally throwing glances at them. Elsa was awake too, probably having informed all of them of their current prisoner.

It was almost time.

“I’m still not convinced I should let you go.”

“Too busy planning the attack on the Evil Queen?”

Emma blinked. He simply shrugged at her response, pointing at his ear.

“Wolf hearing. It has bought me my freedom more than once before.”

“Well, for all we know, you could be a spy of hers.”

“I don’t even know the woman.”

Truth.

Damn it.

Wait, what? Why did him not being a spy make her mad?

“Maybe one of her guards hired you,” she tried.

He sighed, exasperation starting to show on his face. “I am not a spy.” He leaned forward, resting his forehead on the bars. “I am not working for anyone. I just want to find a way to get rid of this bloody curse on me.”

Emma just looked at him, at his blood-stained rags, then back again at his face, tired and barely hiding a desperate expression. He mustn’t have known that killing the Dark One would transfer his powers, and thus his curse, onto him.

She sighed, thinking he couldn’t be her responsibility now. She conjured up one of their anti-magic cuffs. “This will block your magic when you wear it. Put it on before sunset and make sure you’ve gotten yourself somewhere where you can’t hurt anyone when you turn.”

He took it, studying it curiously. “Everything I wear disappears when I turn. Won’t it bring the magic back when I turn?”

“Your stuff doesn’t just disappear. You kinda... you’re kinda still carrying them with you. It’ll be alright.”

“You trust me?” He looked up at her, and her stomach coiled at his face. He seemed surprised... but accepting of the sentiment. “I’m the Dark One.”

“Keeping you locked up won’t do any of us any good,” she said, taking a few steps back and raising her hands. “Maybe it can be a peace offering. If I trust you, you don’t cause us any trouble.” Before she had the time to change her mind, she willed the cage to disappear. She opened her eyes, and he was still there, looking at her, with a visibly more relaxed expression.

“I didn’t even get your name,” he said.

“Neither did I yours,” she said, smirking at him. “But I’m about to help claim our kingdom back, and you’re the Dark One. Something tells me our paths will cross again.”

He nodded. With a swift move of his hand, he was covered in dark red smoke.

She had expected him to teleport away, but instead, when the smoke cleared, he was still there, only he was now dressed in lustrous black leather, from the tip of his boots to the long coat over his shoulders.

If that wasn’t enough, he looked up at her and smirked. She felt her stomach twist as he walked past her and said, “Farewell, your Highness.”

She looked behind her as he walked away. Her magic told her it wasn’t a trick; he was actually leaving, to Gods knew where.

Well, she thought, sighing. Let’s hope I didn’t screw this one up.

It was a harder, longer, and more bloody fight that they’d expected. Somehow the Queen had managed to gather enough magic energy and armed forces to rival them in both accounts.

Before she knew it, Emma found herself on the ground, defenceless, held at swordpoint by the Evil Queen.

“This is the end for you, Princess,” she sneered. She drew her sword back, ready to strike, and Emma closed her eyes in defeat.

Her eyes snapped open as screams were heard from outside the vast throne room. The Queen turned her head just a fraction towards the door leading outside, but it was enough for Emma to reach forward and grasp the hilt of the blade the Queen held.

Screams could still be heard outside as the two women fought for the sword that would very likely end one of them tonight.

They both turned their heads at the door as it opened, looking startled as one of the Queen’s guards stumbled inside, covered in blood.

“Wolf... feral... attacked... has magic...” he managed to mutter before he collapsed.

They stayed frozen, looking at what was now probably the guard’s corpse when suddenly the Queen snatched the sword off from Emma’s grasp.

“Now,” she said, “Where were we?”

Before she could raise the sword again, they heard a deep, loud growl coming from the door.

A wolf walked in the throne room, stepping steadily towards them, its paws leaving bloody footprints on the floor that glimmered as the moonlight shone on them.

It was... it was he. Hook. Hadn’t he worn the cuff? Or had he... and it didn’t work after all, after his transformation?

“Hey,” Emma said before she could think twice on it. She turned to him, slowly taking a few steps towards him.

The wolf let a louder growl, baring his teeth.

“It’s me,” Emma said. “You remember me.” You have to.

The wolf stepped closer, with more tense steps.

“I know this isn’t you. I saw how shocked you were at knowing you’d lost control. You must have worn the cuff but I was mistaken. It doesn’t work, after all, when you turn.”

“What is this? You took talking to animals from your mother?” the Queen said.

Emma ignored her. “I was wrong. You trusted me, and it led to this. I should have helped you...” she found herself kneeling down, folding her hands on her lap. “I know what it’s like, to have magic you don’t want and can’t control. I know how it hurts. And I know I should have helped you, the way I wished someone would help me when I was having trouble with my magic.” She reached out with her hand, her palm upwards. “My name is Emma Swan. And I can help you now. You don’t have to keep facing that pain anymore.”

The wolf walked more slowly now, but still steadily, towards her.

“I know you’ve been in pain. I saw it on your face. And I can’t claim to be able to help with that, but... I know how that feels too. And I trust you. I know you can find yourself.”

The wolf reached closer, then stopped, still in a position ready to lunge. However, it only leaned his nose forward, sniffing at Emma’s hand.

Emma smiled, but then the wolf looked up and lunged.

She merely blinked in shock, feeling time freeze around her. She looked at her still outstretched hand, panic overcoming her that she was done, over with, killed.

But then she heard the Queen scream behind her. She turned, seeing the wolf pin her down, his teeth burrowing in her neck.

The Queen didn’t scream anymore.

The wolf let her go, looking down at her corpse, then turned his head towards Emma.

“She was going to kill me,” Emma whispered. “You saved me.”

The wolf hung his head, however. Emma immediately offered her hand again and he stared at it for a few good moments, before he walked back to her with tired, slow steps.

“I’m here,” Emma said.

The wolf smelled her hand again, then rubbed his snout against it.

“It’s alright.”

He let out a soft whimper, before he slumped on the floor, slowly resting his head on her lap.

Emma hesitated; he seemed to be back in control now, but she couldn’t be sure how much touch he’d be comfortable with at this point. Deciding it was worth a try, she lowered her hand, letting it rest on his head. He seemed to... sigh? So she started brushing her fingers through his fur, stroking back and forth in what she hoped was a relaxing manner.

He’d saved her. He had found his control back with her words, and took the action to save her life.

And now, he was trusting her.

She was yet to see, though, what damage he’d caused while out of control.

His skin felt as if it was burning.

It must have, for the room was full of fire, and he was trying to escape, slamming his body against the burning walls in a desperate effort to bring them down.

But every time he hit a wall, another shriek sounded. Men, fearing for their lives. Screaming as he buried his teeth in their skin or slashed it open with his claws.

But it hadn’t been them he’d been looking for. He, or whatever it had been that had led him there.

He knelt down, clutching his arms against his chest, whispering to himself the only thing that brought him comfort amidst the screams and fire.

Emma Swan. Emma Swan.

He opened his eyes.

He still felt exhausted, though he had slept, apparently.

On Emma Swan’s lap.

“Hook?” he heard.

He looked up, and there she was, looking at him with worry.

“Are you alright?”

He closed his eyes, then opened them and forced himself to pull away from her and sit up. They were still in that throne room, the bodies of the queen and the guard having been taken away.

“What’s the damage?” he said without looking at her.

“Smaller than I’d expected, to be honest. My people said you just ran by them, only attacking people who actually stood in your way. All of them were the Queen’s guards, and you didn’t kill any of them.”

“I bit and clawed at them.”

“They’ve had worse days.”

“There was a... a guard, and the queen...”

“The guard will make it. Will stand trial, of course, but he’ll be fine. As for the Queen... I can’t say I wasn’t about to do the same to her.”

He hung his head, covering his eyes with his hand. “I didn’t... I... wolves don’t just kill. We kill to... eat.” After a short pause to give her time to process that, he continued. “This time was different. All my instincts led me to tear her throat open.”

“You saved my life.” She put a hand on his shoulder, and he nearly jumped up. He looked at her, his heart stopping at her soft smile. “It was a hard thing to do, yes, but if it weren’t for you, I would be dead, and our kingdom would be lost. And, Hook... you controlled yourself.”

He lowered his head again. “Killian,” he whispered.

“What?”

“My name, my real name, is Killian.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her smile widen. “Do you know what brought you here?”

He shook his head. “I blacked out from the moment I turned, next thing I remember was being here, you talking to me.” He swallowed hard. “You helped me.”

“You trusted me back.”

Aye, that he did. Both silent for a moment, he looked into her eyes, wondering how it all came together like this. She had helped him, offered a way to possibly control the wolf, and though that had failed... her trust had been enough. It felt enough.

“Why did you trust me in the first place?”

She licked her lips, making him shortly but intensely shift his focus on them, then said, “I know what it’s like, to feel out of control. I thought that... if I gave you what I wished I had been given, we could avoid difficult consequences, for you, for me, and possibly everyone.”

“I didn’t want to become the Dark One,” he confessed. “I still don’t... want this.”

She reached out, taking his hand in hers. His stomach clenched, and he nearly felt tears in his eyes.

“I don’t know a whole lot about the Dark One,” she said. “What little I do know I didn’t dare share or look into, out of fear that Rumpelstiltskin would find me and...”

He squeezed his hand around hers without thinking. “You think there’s a way to fix... this? Destroy the curse?”

“We can try. That darkness hasn’t done anyone any good.”

He thought of his dagger, carefully hidden in the safe. It was what gave him this curse, what could control him and his magic...

But he wasn’t ready to risk losing all control again. It would take a month before his next time to turn. “You think you could help me again? Next time I turn?”

She nodded. “I know we just met, and trusting each other sounds weird...”

It sounds right.

“But if you’re willing to stay and let me help, I think we can work together towards a cure. Or something.”

“What if it gets worse? What if I lose control and escape before you can stop me?”

She leaned forward. “I guess I’ll have to find you, then.”

Once again, they looked into each other, and Emma wasn’t pulling away. His eyes dropped to her lips again, this time slightly parted, and now leaning even closer...

“Emma! We’re going to need-”

They pulled away as if in shock, letting go of each other’s hand as a couple entered the room.

“Everything alright?” the man asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Emma said, standing up. “Uhm... Hook, these are my parents. I guess now it’s Queen Snow and King David.”

He didn’t feel like standing up yet, only acknowledging them with a nod. He’d still have some way to go before bowing down again.

David reached out with his hand. “Your arrival on the battle was quite the shock for everyone, but it ended up being to our benefit.”

Killian nearly scoffed. Guess that’s enough to make the nightmares worth it, he thought.

“And you saved my daughter’s life. For that, I’ll always be grateful.” He then knelt next to him, still offering his hand. “And at your service.”

Shocked at the apparent King’s humility and gratefulness, Killian found himself shaking hands with him.

“As soon as we fix the castle, you’re welcome to find yourself a room here,” the new Queen said. “We can work out the rest as we settle down here again.”

When they left, Killian finally stood up, looking at the cuff still on his wrist.

“You can take it off anytime, you know,” Emma said.

“They know I’m the wolf.”

“Well, they kinda came in seeing said wolf sleeping on my lap, then as soon as the sun rose, you turning into a human.”

“You didn’t tell them my real name.”

“Well, when they saw you turn back, they started asking questions, and that was the name I knew of you at the time. And now I guessed it’s up to you to share it with them.” She then leaned closer, whispering, “I didn’t tell them you’re the Dark One either.”

He looked at her in shock.

She merely shrugged. “I told you. I’m trusting you. It’s your choice to tell them, if you want them to know.”

Once again, he hung his head. “Thank you, Emma.”

“We’ll find a way. We can get rid of the darkness, then...”

He looked at her as she was apparently searching for words. He couldn’t blame her; a big part of him wanted to stay, already trusted her, but it was all too complicated...

He took a big breath, and as if waking up from a slumber, he assumed the bravado he’d worn so casually over time. He leaned forward, looking straight into her eyes, saying,

“Then, that’s where the fun begins.”

#Captain Swan #captain swan ff #cs ff #cs role reversal #csrolereversal #piracytheorist writes

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