RILEY NATIONALTREASURE MY FUCKING LOVE. Justin Bartha shoulda got an oscar for this tbh

Tomb of the Fifth Emperor 3.9k words

   "Did you take my ink?" Asked a smooth faced, reddish skinned, fit young man named Lelei.     "No, I have mine right... oh, sorry." The hand that returned the inkwell was much smaller than Lelei's. It had a sickly hue to its oaky skin that bespoke few meals and little exposure to the sun. The rest of the scholar reflected that assessment, nails bitten to nubs, a scrawny body in an ill-fitting tunic, hunched like a leering gargoyle in their chair, leaning over a set of freshly written pages with curls shadowing the eyes. This was Ross. "Hey, can you listen to my presentation?"     Lelei grimaced, "I don't know. I should really be studying for this astronomy test. Cherrygrove doesn't let you into expeditions on brawn alone you know." "Astronomy is the one class I never hear you complaining about you'll be fine. Come on, I need another set of ears to tell me if there are obvious errors."     Lelei looked at Ross's pleading eyes and sighed. "Fine, go ahead."     Ross cleared their throat and stood straighter. "The Tomb of the Fifth Emporer. We know many details about the life of the fifth emperor of Amar, Haorth Dimassa, but the location of his burial site is yet unknown."     "Oh is that who the fifth Emperor was?"     "You didn't know that?"     "I'm not a history major, I know the first Emperor and the current one."     "Luckily this will go over- no, best to give details now. This isn't part of the presentation. Haorth was born in a time of conquest for the nation. Back then they were still calling themselves kings."     "So why is it the fifth Emperor if he was a king? Wouldn't the first emperor be, you know, the first emperor?"     "Because they are-err-uh...it is a part of how Amar paints its history, and frankly sounds better than the fifth ruler. Anyways. He was the eldest of several children, and heir to the throne. His childhood was mostly unnoteworthy, though his mother died giving birth to his youngest sibling. It is his early adolescence where we start to get any sort of noted history. Records show he spent most of two and a half cycles traveling the lands of Amar, Miburnia, Gef, and Quibalk-"     "Where is Quibal-"     "We are not sure but there are ideas it is now Suintia, but he was traveling with an entourage to learn about the cultures. During this time he met several life long friends, including a Quibalkian by the name of Anju. When he finally came home to Amar to stay he was welcomed and well versed in the other cultures. His father had grown ill in his absence, and it was likely Haorth would take leadership. Of course his siblings were not all happy about that. The third in line for the throne in particular, though he was but four cycles old, had stayed at home and immersed themselves in politics and courtly intrigue. Our being able to see the whole picture lets us assume it was he who had sent numerous assassins after Haorth and he who had begun to poison the fourth Emperor. Perhaps he thought of his brother as easier to deal with, for the Fourth Emperor died not a season after Haorth's return. Thus did Haorth become the Fifth Emperor, and took many lovers, including Anju.     He renewed the war effort on a less violent tone, engaging in diplomacy while strong arming resistance, buying large swathes of territory for cheap honnied words. Meanwhile the second in line died under an ambush while traveling to one of these encounters, and many of his lovers were killed in 'accidents' as well.     In frustration and grief, he began to look inward to strengthen his people and loved ones. He was a mage you s-"     "Woah, the Fifth Emporer was a mage?" Lelei exclaimed.     Ross sighed and looked at the presentation, they would not be getting to that tonight. "Yeah it was not a big thing back then. The hate for magic in the country and world would not emerge until much later, and the Witch Hunters and current- look I'm getting off topic."     "What kind of mage?"     "They did not use the terms we do now, but he lacked the formal training and colleges there are now, but as I was about to explain had more training and outside resources than a shaman, so a warlock would be closest."     "Hold on, how do you know he was a mage at all?"     "Historical texts imply that-"     "Imply? So he might not even be a mage himself?"     "It is widely speculated that he was a mage."     "But you don't know." Lelei seemed to settle back down, Ross in turn took a deep breath, contemplating if it was an argument worth having and noting Lelei was not to be fully trusted.     "So back to the point, when the death-toll began to rise, he piled his time, money, and connections together and some powerful magical tools began to show up in history. He married a Gef princess, but Anju was still showing up every other seasons or so to spend quality time together. The division between Haorth and the third sibling had grown more obvious and public. Sides began to be chosen, and Haorth began to funnel a large amount of his new assets out with Anju.     It was not long before a short bloody war broke out, and in a single season Haorth, his wife, and those loyal to him were wiped out. But here is the problem, his body was never recovered by the Sixth Emperor Daz's forces. Rumors circulated for cycles about his survival, supposed sightings, and his gathering power to rerise. But also at this time, rumors of a large construction project in the Quibalkian lands drew many skilled workers from many countries. The location of it was never disclosed to Amar as a nation, and Anju and the gathered wealth were not found either, so my presentation is on it, its location, and the chances of it being the Tomb of the Fifth Emperor."     Lelei shook his head. "That's crazy. He had a wild life, I hope you're right though. You know what happens if you present an expedition that fails."     "Thank you, I have some back ups to make it not a total loss, but I am certainly nervous." Ross yawned. "I'm heading back to the dorm, I'm way to distracted to work more."     "I'll come with you. Sorry that I did not know about any of that."     "It is alright. If you tried to tell me about astronemy it would have been a roll reversal." ~     The institution of Hightop resides in the southern part of the Red Rock Mountains in the Amar Empire. While it is not known as a place of learning, and indeed does not advertise itself as such, it is known for its mastery and contributions of several arts and sciences. Among these being the study of numerous monsters and beasts, the shaping of certain rare materials into tools, weapons, and armor, and the creation of magical items. These contributions do not stay in the academic field alone, for the military and a secretive society both receive them as well.     It was nestled beside an old mining town on the summit of a mountain and it built like the rest of the town. Square, squat, ugly stone buildings built low into the ground with several stories leading deeper into the stone. Even getting up to it was difficult, with the snow and ice making the steep barren slopes slick. As one might expect the townsfolk and institution workers that resided in such an isolated location were suspisious of outsiders and visitors. The individual Ross was not supposed to be there, had not been expected, and had been taken deep below the surface to wait in a cold cell. They huddled deep in a fur cloak, shivering and watching their breath, thin though it that high up. In their hands was a sealed package of notes and a presentation on a possible location for treasure.     Two individuals in purple robes walked down the carved stone steps and to Ross’s cell. They had the hoods up, masking their identities, but they were both rather tall and wide set. “So, your proposal for an expedition was rejected by your college, so you decided to come to our little expedition house on the hill to try again.” The voice was feminine and condescending. “You are in luck scholar, the Foreman decided to call the heads together to listen.” Gloved hands opened the cell and stood Ross up. “Follow us, stray and you will be thrown back in there. If this goes well we might even let you join.”     “We don’t have as extensive a library as Cherrygrove, but I’m sure there will be plenty enough.” They strode down a maze of interconnected tunnels, ignoring dozens of side rooms. From all around was the semi-rythmic echoed sound of digging, hammering, talking, and grunts of hard labor. Finally they came to a dark wood door. The carving above it indicated it as a meeting room. “There we are. Step inside and good luck.” She opened the door and shoved Ross in. ~     A week later Ross found themselves riding north with two expedition members from Hightop, and a small caravan entourage of cages, feed, rations, wagon drivers, animal keepers, and other such forgettable things necessary to large undertakings. Suintia, the nation where their site was supposedly located, had a myriad of large ancient beasts and monsters, dangerous creatures that would be useful in a variety of ways to Hightop. To that end, they had sent a Wizard named Devod as their occult consultant and monster wrangler. Devod was of average height, had dirty blonde hair, was the color of a peach, and wore glasses. His team of wranglers and handlers seemed to respect him, but he was reluctant to do any work unrelated to the capturing of monsters.     In contrast their navigator Patter Bigprice was doing the work of three. Scouting ahead, cheaking and updating their map with Ross, and helping set up camp and with cooking. He was a short man of Ira ancestry, and sneaky and quick as a hare, but one could not go half a day before catching a glimpse of him.     While Ross was technically the head of the expedition, and the one they turned to for final decisions, the other two members each seemed to lead their own duties and groups without guidance. That suited the scholar just fine for the most part. Just as each of the official Hightop members had been given special equipment that they had not, so to had they not been given a responsibility in the daily affairs of travel and exploration. It gave Ross more time to study and double check their work. By the time they had entered what they were sure was former Quibalk they had fourteen days of supplies with which to explore before they would need to turn back.     Not much of the Quibalkan’s wooden forts would still remain, but the large burial mound they predicted would have the remains and ancient King’s lost wealth would be. Ross had hoped it would be simple to see given the relative lack of elevation variation but it was not to be. The further North they had ridden the trees around them had grown taller and thicker, until they were passing under almost constant shade and the trunks were wide as Patter laying down. Rumors from locals warned this part of the forest would be haunted, they had not seen any ghosts yet but there were several large animal tracks which had caught Devod’s interest.     Lacking firm direction besides vaguely northward, Ross felt no reason to not follow one of the tracks. Devod and Patter chose one they said should be a large hooved quadruped, and began to lead the way. Patter had a crossbow ready as he walked, even as he would check the small navigational tool the Hightoppers called a ‘compass’. At his side, tightly wound, was a length of rope tied to an odd hook made of the strange meteor stone Hightop used for some of its more valued creations. Devod by contrast, was not hunting with a weapon. He had a small whistle and that was it.    The rest of them trailed behind almost out of sight until they stopped and set up camp for the night. Though they had said it would be the next day before they found the beast Devod was jumpy at the campfire. Even without the many odd noises they had slowly grown accustomed to in their travel, he would look at the trees around them and start or shudder. Finally Ross asked, “what are you so afraid of?”    Devod gave them a hard calculating look, then said, “We are not alone, and I am trying not to let the incorporeal distract me from the possible real threats.” The other’s scowled, but Ross only nodded, “Let us know if something we should worry about happens.”    That night it was hard to sleep, but even when Ross finally did they were woken up by the slow, distinct sound of wood creaking and cracking, and it was getting closer. Not close enough to raise an alarm, but Ross didn’t get back to sleep either.    The next day they caught up to the beast and had their first taste of what to expect from the creatures of the realm. It was as tall as Ross, and indeed a quadruped. Thick brown fur covered it, and it looked almost like a particularly talented child had attempted to draw an elk. It was oddly lumpy, and thick, its face bulbous and long, and its antlers were cupped and almost hand shaped. It began to attack the minuet it got scent of them, but Devod quickly stepped in. With a gesture of haughty dismissal and an incantation in another language he wove a spell. Purple, glittering trails of smoke circled the charging beast’s eyes and around its limbs. The incantation continued, and the beast’s eyes closed, its charge becoming a stumble as momentum carried it to their feet. Devod broke the incantation for a moment to use his whistle, then stood concentrating. His crew came swiftly and placed it in a cage.    Finally the wizard was able to stop, and slumped down with a yawn. “Considering how quickly it defended itself it is probably an herbivore. Gather some local plants to make sure it has some feed.” Another yawn. “Being so amazing is exhausting, I think I’m going to nap.” He went to his wagon, got on, and promptly dosed off.    “So…which direction are you thinking now?”    “Are those more tracks?”    “Yes, looks like another beast like this one leading north.”    “Let us follow them then, how close do you suppose it might be?”    “We’ll catch up with it by tomorrow.”    “Good, with no sign of hill nor ruins that is our best bet.”    They went on for a time, but that night while around the campfires Patter heard a rustling of branches nearby. In a flash his crossbow was ready, and his eyes scanned the darkness before freezing. With his eyes narrowed he gestured with his head for Ross to look. There was something in the shadows, clinging to the upper part of one of the trees with one hand. It was hard to make out a shape, but it had two eyes that reflected the fire’s light, staring at them.    “Should we wake Devod to capture it?” Ross whispered.    “He won’t be able to pull a trick like that again until tomorrow.”    “Well set a watch to keep an eye on it.”    “Oh I will. Dealt with these plenty of times.” Patter spoke so plainly and with such confidence Ross was inclined to believe him.    Shaking their head they went to work on the map before sleep. That night the sound of creaking and breaking wood returned. They stared into the dark, no longer seeing the creature only the trees. They swore they almost saw floating dead people in the gloom, ghosts staring at them. They shuddered, and closed their eyes, telling themself it was just a trick of their eyes. Morning was a welcome sight despite their lack of sleep. The sound from that night had not stopped, and the expedition decided a packing quickly would be smart. While they worked, an eerie moaning howl of a noise, and a bellowing grunt of a scream cut short filled the air, chilling their blood more than the frigid dawn air. Still lacking further leads, they followed the tracks. The animals of the expedition were increasingly nervous, and that energy extended to the human members as well. Ross kept seeing long dead faces in the corner of their vision, darting shadows, and cold spots seemed to follow them. Once again Devod and Patter where keeping ahead of the group, and around midday Patter signaled the expedition to stop and slunk back wide eyed.    “It’s the thing from last night, looks like it killed and is eating another beast like we have in the cage. Looks slightly injured but dangerous, Devod is going to work his sleep spell while we minimize out chances of startling it. This thing will make the expedition worth it for sure. We-“    “Patter.” Ross interrupted, an uneasy feeling growing as they considered their situation. “If that thing from last night is there what do you think is making that noise?”     Devod’s whistle blew, then they heard him yell. Stumbling back towards the wagons he was motioning them to turn. “We need to move we need to run go!” Behind him were dozens of the ghosts floating about, almost mist like. Then it seemed as if the forest was moving. No, not the whole forest, but a singular giant tree. They were already moving away from it, but Ross tried to get a good look. The spirits seemed to stay near it, and some even swirled around it. It walked on two long thick limbs its bark had an almost fur like quality at parts, it had two arms that grew from the piney trunk, ending in claw like things one might generously describe as hands. They could not make out a face, but it seemed to know where they were and walked slow and steady their way.    “We should turn back.” Devod explained.”    “The expedition will be a failure.” Patter replied.    “My magic isn’t going to stop that thing. We have no direction, we need to cut our losses before lives are part of them.”    “We stay.” Ross put in. “Turn right and keep moving. This is my only chance. A creature like that, the ghosts, I think this is the defense the Quibalkans left the tomb.”    “But we still don’t know where it is.”    “We are explorers not go check on the thing we know the exact location of-ers.”    They were already moving deeper. Ross was unsure of what they had heard about them, but despite Devod’s reluctance no further argument was given. They had after all, been desperate and sure enough about this expedition to defect to Hightop, what else that desperation might drive them to do was best left untested. Their pursuer was not particularly fast, but it was relentless. Every stop, rest, and obstacle brought it closer again.    Eventually it was dark, the expedition and its animals were all tired and scared. Finally Patter saw an incline devoid of trees. They went round the mound until they found what seemed to be a large stone entrance and Ross ordered a great fire to be built. While the panicked group worked on that and making camp, Ross turned their attention to the stone. It was a door, covered in ornate design and with an inscription on top. Silently they wished they could trace it for future works, bu the sound of the tree thing was getting even closer. They pushed and shoved the door to no effect then scowled at it. “It is just too heavy, or does it need something. If only I could translate this, maybe… hey Devod.”    “Yeah boss?”    “Come here, see if you can get this door to react to you.”    “Better than moving logs I suppose.” The Wizard grumbled, coming to stand next to them. “What do you want me to do?”    “Try to push it with me, maybe try to put some magic energy in it.”    “That…isn’t how that works. But okay.” They pushed, and the door seemed to shudder, then give way. Inside the mound was cold musty air and shadow. Ross grabbed a torch and the pair went in while Patter prepped outside. It was huge inside, the floor sloped slowly downward so when they entered the main chamber it was cavernous. Gold, jewels, and stranger things glimmered in the dark, and Devod had to close his eyed so many magical things were around them.    “Go back out, anyone who isn't building the fire needs to come and gather this.” Ross ordered. Devod made a face but went back out, and the light of Ross’s torch fell upon a rectangle of a sarcophagus. Kneeling next to it, half on top of it in a position of grief, was a single skeleton. They cautiously moved towards it, scanning the stone while watching for movement. Finally with a sigh of relief they saw the name Haorth Dimassa written in the language of old Amar. “This is it. This is the tomb.” They whispered breathlessly.”    “It’s here! Are you planning on setting it and the whole forest on fire?” Pattern called from outside. Mind racing, Ross made another tough choice. Around the worked Devod had brought in had bags but looked ready to break. “Grab what you can we need to go. He’s right the fire would cause more trouble than help.” The expedition members nodded and scrambled to grab the riches around them before rushing back out. Ross pocketed a ring that tingled in their hand and was first out.    They saw Patter dodging the creature. The entourage was throwing spears at it, but it seemed whatever he had done had earned it’s full attention, or had until Ross had emerged. The tree thing turned to Ross and the ghosts crowded around them. Pattern used the rope and hook he carried to latch on to one of its legs, pulling as it began to step with the other one. It did not move, but seeing his intent others joined him. They pulled as one and the thing tumbled into the fire with a horrifying scream. The fire spread quickly even as it stood, cracking and popping as the smell of burnt fur and smoke filled the air. It tried to reach those exiting the tomb, but began to collapse in on itself until it was still. The ghosts stared a moment, then all rushed into the woods.    “Let’s hurry and gather the rest of this up. I don’t like that they didn’t fade away.” Devod suggested.    “Right. Good work all. Gather up, pack up, hopefully we have a few hours to give the animals rest before we move again. The sooner we leave these woods the better. ~    Something different than the tree had indeed come for them two days later, those who caught a glimpse of it claimed it was an oddly chimeric looking beast that stank of rotten meat and blood. Luckily once they left that part of the woods it stopped perusing them. They dealt with bandits and weather, but in the end they returned successful and Ross was given their membership.

The Princess and the Pirate—Chapter 5

Rating: T

Pairing: Captain Duckling

Summary:  When the Black Fairy finds a way back from the Dark Realm where she’s been banished, Snow and Charming fear for their daughter, Emma’s life.  They turn to the infamous Captain Hook to take their daughter to safety before the Black Fairy is able to start the “final battle” she’d threatened just after Emma’s birth.

Missed the beginning: (1) (2) (3) (4)

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

“Cap’n!” Smee called, running toward the ship’s wheel, a slip of paper in hand.  “Message came for you!  From the King!”

Killian looked up at his first mate, pulled from his thoughts of the blonde beauty of the night before.  “Mister Smee,” Killian said, “do you mean to tell me that King George sent me a letter?”

“Not George!” Smee said, pulling off his red cap, using it to mop the sweat from his forehead and then putting it back on his head.  “David. King David and Queen Snow sent it by bird.”

Aye, that sounded like Queen Snow’s preferred method of communication.

“What the bloody hell could this kingdom’s royals have to say to me?” Killian asked.  “We’ve left their vessels untouched.  They seem a decent sort as royalty goes.”

“Don’t know, Cap’n,” Smee said, still holding out the folded slip of paper.  “I didn’t read it.  Just delivered it.”

Curious, Killian took the offered missive, slid one finger under the flap, broke the seal, and then opened it.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Captain Jones,

Your reputation for daring and courage has preceded you.  It’s known far and wide that the dread pirate Jones is fearless and will stop at nothing to achieve his goals.  It is to that end that we invite you for an audience at our castle.   We’ve a proposition that we believe will be beneficial for our kingdom and greatly lucrative to you.  We give you our word that you run no risk of danger in appearing at our court.  You’ve never stolen from Misthaven, and thus we have no quarrel with you.

Please send your answer with our bird.

King David and Queen Snow of Misthaven

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Killian folded the letter, his brow furrowing.  How very mysterious.  A pirate being summoned to the royal court, offered not only immunity, but a lucrative venture as well.  Unheard of! Could he trust the immunity King David offered?  Could it be nothing but an elaborate ruse to finally get his hands on an infamous pirate?

No.  Killian dismissed that possibility immediately.  Though he’d never met the king and queen of Misthaven, their reputations were well known through the whole realm.  They were known to be kind, just and true to their words.  Whatever the king and queen wanted him for, it was not ambush.

Perhaps he would accept the invitation, if only to satisfy his curiosity.

“Cap’n?” Smee asked.

“The bird who delivered this message,” Killian said.  “Is he still aboard?”

“Aye,” Smee said.  “Cook tried to shoo him away, but he wouldn’t go.”

“He’s waiting for an answer,” Killian said.  “Tell him that Captain Killian Jones accepts the invitation and will call at a time of their choosing.”

Smee reached up and scratched his head.  “Tell the bird that?” he asked.  “Begging your pardon, Cap’n, but how can a bird pass a long a verbal message?”

“He’ll find a way,” Killian said.  “Queen Snow has a way with birds.”

Smee looked unconvinced for another moment but finally shrugged and then ran off to do his captain’s bidding.  Killian watched him go, and then slowly began turning the wheel back toward port.  He’d give his men another day of shore leave while he attended to his business at the palace.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Killian followed the dwarf through the stone passageways of the palace, up a flight of stairs, and toward what he could only be the King and Queen’s private quarters.

“No funny business, pirate!” the dwarf said, scowling up at him.  “I’m watching you!”

Killian took in the man’s diminutive height, his bald head, the thick black beard, his cantankerous appearance, and rolled his eyes.  “Yes, dwarf. That should deter me from any malfeasance.”

The dwarf glared at him for another moment, then began walking again, muttering something under his breath that Killian could only assume was far from flattering.  He considered making further remarks to goad the bad-tempered man, but before he could do so, his guide stopped before a set of double doors, shot Killian one last glare and then opened them.

The doors opened to a large room, mostly empty save for the dais in the corner on which sat King David and Queen Snow on thrones.

“Captain Killian Jones, your majesties,” the dwarf said.  “Want me to stay and keep an eye on him for you?  He’s a pirate after all.”

Queen Snow shared an amused look with her husband and then turned back toward the dwarf.  “Thank you Grumpy, but that won’t be necessary. Captain Jones is here by our invitation.”

Grumpy.  Never had Killian heard a name better suited to its owner.

Grumpy looked as though he wanted to protest, thought better of it, bowed with a quick, jerky motion, and then stepped out.

As soon as the door closed behind him, King David got to his feet and extended his hand.  “Sorry about that.  Grumpy has a suspicious nature and he’s appointed himself as my wife’s personal guardian.”

“No matter, your majesty,” Killian said, taking the man’s hand and giving it a quick shake.  “I’m quite used to people not trusting me.  A peril of piracy, I’m afraid.”

“Yes, well…” the king said, looking at a bit of a loss how to respond.  “I suppose that’s understandable.”

Killian leaned casually, placing his weight on one leg, his hand going to his belt buckle, and his eyebrow raising.  “And just why is it that you’ve summoned me, your majesty?”

“We have a proposal,” the queen said, stepping forward to join her husband.  “Our daughter is in grave harm from a threat to the entire kingdom. We must get her to safety.  In short, we would like you to take her safely to the kingdom of Arendelle.”

Killian’s eyebrows raised. Of all the things he’d imagined the royals wished to say to him, this hadn’t even occurred to him.  “Surely I’m hearing incorrectly.  You want a pirate to transport your precious daughter, love?  Who’s to say I won’t take advantage of my good fortune and hold her for ransom?”

David stepped forward, hand going to the hilt of his sword.  “You don’t want to know what we’re capable of should you harm a hair on our daughter’s head.”

Killian refused to be cowed. He took a swaggering step forward toward the queen.  “What shall be the consequence, then?  Shall your lovely wife torture me in retaliation?  I daresay that would be pleasant for the both of us.”

The king drew his sword. “You wanna lose a hand, pirate?  Step away from my wife!”

Queen Snow stepped between Killian and the king.  “Alright David, just calm down.  Put the sword away.  To answer your question, Captain, we’ve heard of your exploits and we know you’re an honorable man.  You don’t harm simply for the sake of it, and you’ve never attacked our land or anyone within it.  What’s more, we’re prepared to pay you handsomely for your efforts.”

Kind David took a breath, sheathed his sword, and then turned back toward Killian.  “What is it you want gold?  Silver? Jewels?”

“My dear king and queen, your offer is meaningless,” Killian said.  “Don’t give a damn about your rank.  Your treasures would fill other pirates with glee, but none of those pirates are me.”

King David glared at him for a moment, sighed in exasperation, and then turned back toward the queen.  “You see Snow?  I told you this was a waste of our time.  He should just go.”

“Just a minute David,” Snow said, placing a staying hand on her husband’s arm and then turning back toward Killian.  “You don’t want our treasure, but surely there’s something we can offer you.  What is it you want?”

“Revenge,” Killian said, his voice going hard.  “I want revenge, and it’s going to be mine!”

“Revenge on whom?” Queen Snow asked.

“King George,” Killian said. “He took my brother, and for that I plan to take everything he has.”

“King George,” the king said, “you want to avenge your brother Liam’s death from dreamshade, am I correct?”

Killian stiffened.  “How do you know about my brother?”

The king shrugged.  “Come now, Captain!  I’m contemplating sending my daughter, my only child, on your ship. Do you really believe I would do so without first having you thoroughly investigated?”

“Very well,” Killian said, through gritted teeth, “help me get my revenge on King George and I shall do as you ask.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” King David said.  “Look, nothing would make me happier than to take that bastard down, but he’s a leader of a sovereign nation.  Should I give military (or other) aid to a pirate to destroy him, I will incite a war, and that is something I’m not prepared to do.”

Killian shrugged and then turned toward the door.  “Well, then, your majesty, I’m afraid I must decline.”

“Wait!” Snow said.  “We may not be able to give you King George, but we can give you someone equally as guilty for your brother’s untimely death.”

Killian slowly turned around.  “What do you mean?”

“Did it ever occur to you to wonder how King George knew about dreamshade?  How he knew about Neverland?  Did it ever occur to you to wonder how he obtained the Pegasus sail that allowed you to cross to that realm?”

Killian was silent. In truth, it hadn’t occurred to him, but now that King David mentioned it, it did seem rather significantly odd.  Neverland was seen in this land as nothing but a myth, a legend.  “I presume you have the answer to tell me,” Killian said after a moment.

“Indeed we do,” Queen Snow said.  “Rumplestiltskin.  The Dark One.”

“Our research on you led us to learn that the Dark One set that entire ghastly business in motion,” King David continued.  “He orchestrated your trip to Neverland as well as your brother’s death.”

“Why?” Killian asked. “What reason would he have to do so?”

Queen Snow shrugged.  “No one knows his reasons.  The best we can determine, he’s trying to find a way to his son in a different realm.  At any rate, King George may have executed the plan, but Rumplestiltskin is the mastermind behind it.”

Killian felt the familiar pain and anger flare up inside, the betrayal and agony feeling as fresh as the day Liam died in his arms.  “And how does this knowledge help me?”

“Simple,” King David said, “we may not have the ability to harm King George, but we have Rumplestiltskin contained in a dungeon.  If you give our daughter safe passage to Queen Elsa’s court in Arendelle, we’ll give you Rumplestiltskin.”

Killian grinned, his heart pounding at the possibility of finally, finally avenging his beloved brother. It was all within his grasp!  All he must do is transport one spoiled princess to the next land over.  “It would seem, Your Majesty, that we have an accord.  Where is this daughter that you wish me to take aboard my vessel?  I find I’m suddenly eager to meet her.”

King David called for the dwarf who waited outside the door.  “Grumpy, find Princess Emma!  Have her come to our quarters right away!”

The dwarf bowed and then headed off.   King David turned back toward Killian.  “As it happens,” the king said with a grin, “you’ve already met the princess.  It was what prompted the queen to suggest you as the means to solve our dilemma.”

Killian’s brow furrowed. “You must be mistaken, your highness. Had your princess crossed my path I would have…”

But before he could complete his thought, the double doors opened once more, and Killian’s eyes went wide. The blonde beauty with her hair flowing behind her and a royal dress encasing her slim figure looked far different than the last time he’d beheld her, to be sure, but her identity was unmistakable.

“Swan!”

 Notes:

--So there you have it.  Killian now knows the true identity of his “Swan”, and he also knows who’s the mastermind behind his brother’s demise.  Let the journey to Arendelle begin!

--Obviously some of the dialogue between the Charmings and Killian (and Grumpy, for that matter) was taken from the show.  I quoted 2x13 a bit, and I also couldn’t resist quoting a bit of Killian’s song from the musical.

--Up next: Emma answers her parents’ summons and is surprised to find herself face to face with the pirate she’d met in the tavern.  Her parents tell her of their plan to keep her safe by sending her to Arendelle.  How will she respond when she finds out her parents made such a momentous decision without any input from her?  Also, the journey to Arendelle gets underway!