A Curse Upon Thee 2-14

“So…” Emma crossed her arms over her jacket. “You two know this guy?”

With all the mud on it, the red leather looked a much darker shade than usual, something closer to the red he wore being honest. It was a minor thing, but it still stood out. Especially because the longer Finn looked, the more he realized it was a near-perfect color match to the longsword propped up in its sleeve.

The blood-red leather of the scabbard sat against the thick bark of the tree Finn was also using as a backrest, the thing untouched and unsheathed for one simple reason.

Mostly being that he just didn’t have the time yet. 

Never have the time for anything anymore in this stupid fucking forest. Finn bit back a sigh as long and as loud as any he’d ever let free. Can’t believe I’m already missing ogre hunting. As crazy as that week had been — literally last week — it had been relaxing in its own way.

He’d at least had more than enough time to get used to his new outfit and the furry dagger still sitting on his hip, but he couldn’t say the same for this new arrival. Being honest, the thing had just poofed out of nowhere and stabbed itself into the mud a couple minutes ago. 

As much as he would have loved to give it a few test swings, he had something way more pressing to deal with right now.

The soft sounds of rhythmic breathing were enough to remind him he wasn’t alone in his resting spot and, if that wasn’t enough, the weight from the head of purple hair using his lap as a makeshift pillow made that clear enough. He’d tried laying her down on the ground next to him but it was like every time he blinked, she would somehow find herself closer to his leg or thigh and now his lap. 

Maybe she’s cold and looking for body heat or something. He tossed that idea around for a few seconds before letting it settle as he shook his head. Whatever. Finn couldn’t really give the sleeping girl his full attention, anyway, not when his newly sharpened senses — both eyes and ears — were locked on to the quiet conversation happening a few yards away across the clearing.

“I’ve certainly seen him before.” Mulan paced a slow circle around the camp as she answered Emma, her voice husky and low. All of them spoke in hushed tones, barely above whispers, as they did their best to keep the discussion private and unheard from the man they were discussing. The guy in question was sitting on a crate in the exact center of the once-safe haven, his one good hand raising a wooden cup of water to his lips as he gulped it down. “Told us his name was Killian.”

“Oh, so there’s an actual ‘Kill’ right there in his name. Looking at an awesome start.” Emma huffed out a breath, one eye twitching as her voice came out. “Alright, what else?”

“Came through the camp a few months ago.” Mulan’s words were exact, dark eyes on the survivor’s back as they kept their slow pace. “A former blacksmith, he said he was. Claimed to have lost his hand defending his forge from the Violet Shade.”

“Cora leaving a single survivor to spread fear?” Mary Margaret’s face pulled into a frown, brow tight as she glanced back too. “I can see that.” Finn watched those eyes slide from the one-armed man back toward where he sat under the tree. “The girl over there is clearly hurt. But this man… he’s barely been touched.”

“Yeah. I don’t know much about Cora…” Emma shook her head too. “I don’t see how it makes any sense.”

“You think him a liar?” Mulan’s pale hand drifted lower, almost touching her hilt again. “You think we should…”

“I think…” Emma kept her eyes on the drinking man. “That Cora actively tricked all of us once already. I’m really not into that happening a second time.”

Question time. Finn stood up slow, shifting his weight carefully enough to ease the purple-haired girl’s head from his lap down to a soft patch of moss. He cracked his neck, blue eyes narrowed to slits as he watched the man across the clearing. 

Something was really wrong here.

He didn’t know what but something was prickling the back of his neck hard, almost like a swarm of angry hornets just out of the corner of his eye. This guy had literally been pulled out from under a pile of dead people after an evil witch made her way through the place, picking hearts like she was taking a stroll through an apple orchard. 

His dark clothes were a little torn up, sure, and he was covered all over in wet mud. But there was nothing dark to him. No more Cursed Energy than any normal person would ever have clung to him and nothing like Cora’s dark magic was there for him to sense either.

…so he’s normal. Finn reached down, grabbing the longsword by the scabbard. Just a guy.

And that was suspicious too.

Finn walked his way quietly over to the group, boots barely making sound in the mud. By the time he got up to them, Emma was already there, handing the one-armed man another fresh cup of water. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, love.” 

A red eyebrow went high up as Finn came to a stop. Irish, huh? The accent, sure, but the words were definitely British for some reason. Weird.

“So…” Emma leaned over the table Killian sat in front of. “A camp absolutely covered in corpses… and a big tall strong man like you somehow escaped without even a scratch. Mind telling me exactly how that works?”

“Cora…” Killian let his eyes drop, the man’s breath coming through in shakes and sputters. “The witch broke free from that prison the night before in the dead of night. She moved as smoke, a cloud untouchable and a darker color than even that of the Violet Shade herself, killing us before we could run or fight.” He swallowed hard, his hand tight around the cup. “I threw myself to the ground under the bodies of those whose hearts were stolen. Pretended to be dead myself. Must be the ruse worked.”

“So much for fortune favoring the brave.” 

“It was all I could do to survive.” The man’s tone tightened, Finn raising an eyebrow at the heat in his voice at Emma’s little joke. “We were being slaughtered.”

“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.” Emma leaned forward a bit more, acting like the entire concept of personal space meant nothing. “I am incredibly good at knowing when someone is lying to my face.”

“It’s true.” All eyes turned to him as Finn stepped out from behind Emma’s shoulder, resting on his collarbone. “She’s too good at it. Little creepy in my opinion.” His eyes slid over the blonde, a smirk on his face, before looking back at the handsome liar in front of them. “So, honestly, It’d be really nice of you not to try lying again.”

“I..” Killian’s eyes darted to the sheathed weapon resting on Finn’s shoulder, the man’s mouth moving silently for a few breaths. “I… Mate, I’m telling you nothing but the truth.”

Emma snorted loud. “And there you go again.”

“So we killing him or what?”

“We should leave here,” Mulan ignored both Finn’s question and the man’s wide-eyed fear, eyes surveying the dead camp one more time. “In case Cora decides to come back to finish her work.”

“We’re not killing him, Finn.” Mary Margaret seemed absolutely certain that she was Finn’s boss for some reason as she turned his way. “What we need to do is start searching for a way back to Storybrooke, some spell or another portal. Anything.”

A hand rested softly on Snow’s shoulder, the look on the teacher-queen’s face softening as she looked at Emma. “We’ll make it back. I know we will.”

“I hope so, I do.” She patted Emma’s hand in a way Finn only could describe as motherly. “Five minutes with my husband was not at all enough, not to mention my grandson.”

Killian’s head snapped up. “Grandson?”

Mother and daughter both rolled their eyes as they chimed together. “Long story.“

“Well,” Killian leaned forward as Emma stood up straight, tone a roguish purr, “I happen to know this treacherous land incredibly well, ladies. If you’d like, I could guide y-”

“Sorry, what was that?” Finn smiled wide as the man choked on his words, mouth moving silently as a knife sat under his chin. “You’re gonna have to speak up.”

Emma stepped in closer with the hunting knife, sharp steel pressed tighter. “You’re not taking us anywhere until you tell us who you really are.”

“Y-you already know, darling.” Killian swallowed hard against the blade, one good hand held up high. “I’m just a simple blacksmith.”

“With one hand.” Emma raised an eyebrow at the only limb he had to use, laughing as she pushed the knife in tighter. “Sure you are.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Emma, stop.” His fingers wrapped around her wrist, knife yanked away from the guy’s throat. “You can’t do that.”

Killian stumbled back, breath shaky with relief. “Th-thank you, lad.”

“Don’t fucking thank me.” Finn rolled his eyes with a snort. He tossed the sword and sheath over his shoulder, Emma grunting as she caught it awkwardly against her chest. “The only reason she can’t do it is because she won’t do it. She’s a good person. Me?”

One arm flailed in the air, Killian gasping for breath against the pale hand that clamped tight around his throat. “I’m not a hero. On a good day, I’m just a guy. On a bad day…” With a grunt, he raised his hand and Killian rose with it, the man’s boots dangling inches over the ground. “I’m a sorcerer.” 

“Oh my goodness.” Mary Margaret’s hands flew to her mouth.

“Finn?” Emma kept the sword steady, her voice its own warning. “I think you’re actually scaring my mom a little bit right now.”

“Play with the new sword, Emma. Do me a favor and tell me how it swings.” Finn didn’t bother look her way, blue eyes locked dead on Killian with a smile on his face.

“What?” The man choked, his sole hand clawing uselessly at Finn’s iron grip. “You… you can’t bloody do this.”

Kaijin no Honō. His Cursed Technique roared to life, index finger on his free hand lighting up with a concentrated point of red-orange flame. “Watch me. I’ve got a really pretty girl I need to get back home to right now, and I… yeah, honestly, I’m American. We believe in torture.”

“Oh no!” 

Aurora’s dramatic gasp forced a smile to his face, Finn never breaking contact with Killian’s terrified watering eyes even as the one-armed man kept struggling against a physical strength he couldn’t hope to match. “You ever seen a heated knife go to work? Because I’ll pop out that eye to match your hand, boyo.” 

“W-w-wait! Sorcerer Finn, wait!” Aurora stammered from behind her hands. “How do we know he’s not telling the truth?”

Finn tilted his head. “Emma?”

“He’s not.”

“There’s your answer.” Finn moved his finger closer, the one-armed-man twitching as Aurora gasped louder. 

“A-alright! Alright, mate!” Killian gagged against the grip, doing his best to force words past the lack of air. “You’ve bested me!”

“Uh-huh.” Finn didn’t bother to lower the finger. “And what do I win?”

“So you were a deceiver.” 

“Caught… caught me out, have you?” Killian glanced over to Mulan, the man on the edge of turning purple as Finn kept choking him. “I can actually count all the people who’ve managed to do that on one hand.”

“That…” Emma stared blankly at him. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

“I don’t know.” Finn tilted his head to the side, shaking the fire out on his fingertip with a dying hiss. “It was kinda funny.”

“Finn!”

“I’m not a total savage, Emma. The joke was solid.”

“Th-thank you, my… my good man.” Killian coughed the words out. “N-now, if you could possibly see fit to ease your bloody grip…”

“Not that funny.” Finn tightened his grip again just a bit, just to prove a point. “Now who the hell are you?”

“Killian Jones, but most know me by a significantly more colorful moniker…” The man grunted again. “Hook.”

“Hook?” Mary Margaret parroted the name.

Finn raised an eyebrow. “Like Captain Hook?”

“Ah,” Hook purred, his smile growing wider. “So you have heard of me.”

“Don’t bullshit me.” Finn shook the man hard enough to rattle his teeth. “I look like Peter fucking Pan to you?”

Hook’s face darkened, all that charm thinning to ice. “A bit too bloody old to be that little demon bastard, aren’t you?”

…fine. Finn’s grip tightened further. “I’m gonna make sure you look like a pirate then.”

“Wait, wait!” Hook slapped his good hand against Finn’s wrist. “Check my satchel. Check the bag!”

Mary Margaret tore open the leather flap of the bag on the ground, only to let out a sharp gasp barely a few seconds later. “My goodness…” 

Finn blinked slowly at the shiny metal hook she pulled out, the wicked-looking curved thing attached to a leather cuff. “…huh.” So he wasn’t lying. He looked over at Emma, the blonde sheriff staring at the hook for a few seconds.

With a sigh, she looked back at him, and nodded slowly.

Shrugging his shoulders, Finn uncurled his fingers and let the man drop into the dirt.

“And… and here you… had me worried….” Hook rubbed his bruised neck, the pirate captain dragging in desperate pulls of afternoon air. “That I’d actually never breathe again.”

Finn folded his arms firmly over his chest. “Could still happen.”

“Alright. I’ll tell you the truth and nothing but.” Hook pushed himself back upright on the crate, staring at the group with entirely new caution. “Cora had me hide here, under these bodies, to gain your confidence. I was to travel with you and report back to the witch.”

“Uh-huh.” Emma crossed her arms, stance matching Finn’s. “And who’s the girl?”

“What girl?” Hook blinked at the blonde. “Who are you talking about?”

Finn jerked his head back toward the oak tree where he’d been resting just a little bit ago. “The girl we found before you; the one with the purple hair.”

Hook stared past him, the man as confused as Finn had ever seen anyone look. “I’ve never seen that wench a single day in my life.”

Finn looked over at Emma as green eyes narrowed for a moment, before widening back to normal as she shook her head. “He’s not… he’s actually not lying about that.”

Blue eyes drifted back to Hook, Finn grunting as he had to accept that. “Look, mate, all Cora wanted me to do was travel with you lot so that I could learn all there was to know about your precious little town. She’s a woman who likes to stay informed, it seems.”

“She can’t get there.” Mary Margaret answered back. “She destroyed the wardrobe herself.”

“Ah,” Hook lifted a single finger. “But the enchantment remains and Cora gathered the ashes for a reason. She’s going to make her own portal.”

“We should chain him to a tree and leave him to the ogres.” Mulan clipped the words as she scowled his way. “They’ll be drawn here by the bodies soon enough. Might as well make penance for the lives he took.”

“Sounds good to me.” Finn nodded.

“That was Cora, not me!”

“Finn…” Emma turned her back on Hook. “Find a chain.”

“Wait. Wait!” Hook shook his one hand. “You bloody well need me!”

“Why?” Emma didn’t turn around even when she came to a stop. “Why do we need you?”

“Because we all want the same thing, love.” Hook stood straight, swallowing a mouthful of empty air. “To get back to your not-so-magical land. All I arranged for was transport with the witch, but…” Hook gestured out with his hand, “seeing how incredibly resourceful and dangerous you all clearly are, I’ll be happy to offer you all the exact same deal. I’ll help you find a way, as long as you take me along.”

“And how exactly are you going to help us?”

“Those ashes of Cora’s will open a portal, yes…” Hook nodded toward Mary Margaret, the queen-mother staring at him with her arms crossed. “But to navigate her way there, she needs more than just that. Within this realm…”

Realm. Finn hummed.

“…an enchanted compass is hidden that will always point you where you need to go. Cora seeks it. I’ll help you obtain it before she does.”

“…that sounds too good to be true.” Mary Margaret narrowed her eyes back at him before staring over at Emma. “Is it?”

“…not lying.”

Both of Hook’s brows waggled as his smile returned in full. “Well, there you go, loves.”

Metal sang as the straight blade of the longsword in Emma’s hand came free of its leather-wrapped scabbard. What the… Finn blinked at the sword itself, the steel seeming to shine in the dim light of the clearing in a way that didn’t just look like a simple reflection. 

That same shining tip was leveled directly at Hook’s chest, the man not flinching as he met Emma’s gaze. “You tell me one last thing, pirate, and whatever you say…” Emma Swan shook her head. “I better absolutely believe it.”

“Ask away, darling.”

Emma’s glare only darkened. “Why in the hell does Captain Hook want to go to Storybrooke?”

“Simple.” Hook gave them all a smile, one that looked a hundred times more hungry than it was happy. “To exact my bloody revenge on the scaled monster who took my hand. The imp known as Rumplestiltskin.”

Finn stared at the pirate for a second.

That was all it took before a grin just as wide and just as hungry split his own face. “…Forget absolutely everything I said before.” He clapped a hand hard onto Emma’s shoulder. “I actually like this guy.”

 o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

It’s Dangerous To Go Alone! Take This. – 300 GP
Grant a prophesied hero a magical weapon.

ROLL: Friends Are Power (400) [Bleach] {Benevolence}:

“The hero doesn’t fight alone, not these days. There’s no reason that the friends he fights for can’t give it a go themselves to help him out, especially not when they’re in your presence. Your close friends and trusted allies grow stronger alongside you as you fight and continue to adventure, provided they’re joining you in your struggles. To a lesser extent, they can take advantage of the speed at which you grow if they also make efforts to improve, likely to greatly increase their efforts. What makes you special in particular is the ability to awaken entirely new abilities in those around you, sometimes as a direct result of the energy you project and sometimes as a coincidence of being wrapped up in the same schemes you’re trapped in. The result is that normal friends or those too weak to really keep up in the struggles you face are able to develop powers that help bring them nearer your level. They might discover sudden Fullbring heritage to save themselves when you couldn’t reach them or suddenly unlock a supposedly impossible transformation to recover lost power as a Hollow. Once they have their new powers, they’ll be able to progress them as if they were truly inherent abilities.”

Grimoire Points: 700