19The bed of hot embers and ashes glowed bright and warm enough to keep them warm and the fog did well enough to keep the light from spreading. Perhaps making a fire was not the best idea, the hunter said that he would return back to the village, but there was no guarantee that he would keep true to his words. Anything too bright and it would give her away. If she had been by herself, she would have found a nice nook to curl herself into and wait until the sun came up.
But the freezing stranger who smelled of salt made things a little difficult.
He was nearly ice when she found him, cold and stiff, like a wet cloth hung out to dry in the middle of winter. Between the hot embers and her hood, Red could see the blueish hue fade from his lips and warm colors rose in it's place. At least then she wouldn't have to bury a frozen corpse. She didn't care for burying the dead. She had enough of that for a while. Most of the time Red spent making and carefully tending to the fire with sticks and flint rock was spent in silence. Whether or not she was grateful for it was left to be determined.
"Are you feeling better?" Red asked as she threw two small pieces of wood onto the embers, watching them succumb to the heat. As the brief flame lite up his face, although shaded by the hood draped around him, she could see his lips spread into a crooked smile, similar to the way Peter would do to send her stomach into a flutter. She hated to admit that it was having a similar effect.
"Indeed I am. This hood of yours, it's quite extraordinary,"
Red blinked and forced a small smile. "It's... enchanted. My grandmother gave it to me. I spent a lot of time in the woods as a girl. It was meant to protect me... from the cold." And from the wolf. That was what she had been told as a child, that the red hood warded off wolves, and it would help her against the cold. That part was at least true, it's small magic always kept her warm, better than any other hood she had. Soon it was the only one she wanted to wear. Whether or not Granny had intended for that, it worked to get the young Red to wear it.
"Interesting color as well..."
"That," Red snapped a twig in half. "is a story for another time."
"Ah. Well, I do love stories..." The man gave another smile and Red quickly avoided his gaze, staring into the small fire.
"You first." She told him, after a moment, she turned her eyes back to him. "You promised me answers. You don't plan on going back on your word, do you?"
The man pushed the hood away from his face finally giving Red a clearer view of it. Without the frosted, matted down hair she had seen before when he was in the net, she could easily make out more of his features. A part of her stomach dropped...
"So I do. What would you like to know?" He asked her, and she had no hesitation in her answer.
"Everything."
The side of his mouth was brought up in a smirk, Red recomposed herself. "What kind of man get's himself soaking wet and caught twenty feet up in a net trap?"
He leaned back, the smile never leaving his face. "An unfortunate one, I suppose. My name is Killian. I am a blacksmith. I was... taking a walk and got caught in that trap, an elaborate one at that, doused me with water and snatched me up. Must have tripped a wire..."
Red narrowed her eyes and as she leaned back, it was obvious that this man could read the expression on her face. "Well, Killian. You are a terrible liar."
"Oh?" He let out a slight gasp.
She reached over and snatched his hand, holding onto his wrist, gently, of course, his skin was still rather cold compared to hers, she pulled it out further, closer to the fire, for both light and warmth. "These are no hands of a blacksmith." Red stated. "I know that much." She lingered for a moment, a memory of Peter's hands, how they were slightly blackened, calloused, warm... She let go, leaving his hand suspended in the space between them. "And this is the heart of the forest. No one comes here for a stroll. Only hunters and their prey wander this far into it." Red felt quite pleased with herself, honestly, although she suddenly became uneasy. Why had he lied to her...
There was a moment of silence before he let out a small laugh. Red raised her brow. "Well, if you are going to lie, you should be more knowledgeable about what you are lying about."
"Very true, milady. Good for you. Not many people have bested me before..."
"I wouldn't call it bested..." Red stared at him. "I simply know more than you. But I did save your life when I could have left you here to freeze. I think that earns me something better than lies. Try the truth."
The man sat up straighter and leaned forward towards her. "You... certainly have earned that. If what you say is true, that only hunters and prey wander this far, then tell me, are you the hunter, or the prey?"
She tried her best to keep her face straight, although she could feel the weight of her brow begin to sink down over her eyes. "Truth for truth. You first."
Killian Jones often sought out beauty.
He had hunted mermaids, scales and hair fetched a nice price, he had tracked down the lost and the treasured, as there was nothing more beautiful than vibrant gems and shining gold, he had even caught princesses here and there. But this... He never expected to come across this.
The most beautiful creature he had ever seen. And he had been in the best taverns and whore houses in the kingdoms.
Porcelain skin, eyes that could have been precious gemstones, hair that could have been the finest silk and a voice that made sirens themselves sound like old hags. The most beautiful woman in all creation.
And she had him at his throat.
"What are you doing here, sailor?" Plush lips formed the forced brave words and flashed perfect white teeth, he could help but stare, the smile on his face an obvious giveaway to what was in his mind, mainly, the thought of those lips on his own skin.
"I must say, calling you a sea witch is a great understat-" His own words were choked out of him as her sharpened nails dug into his skin. His crew, all frozen in ice yet still alive, watched as their captain was lifted up into the air by the delicate and scantily clad woman with no more effort then she would have exerted tossing a piece of fruit.
The pirate named after the curved piece of metal that replaced his left hand, Captain Hook, landed on the slab of ice with sharp and long crack forming under his body as he slid across the slippery surface, landing into a chilled pool of water. Barely a moment after being submerged was he lifted up again, hanging by an invisible thread, his body a mirrored image of the woman's hand in the air.
Rage poured from the witch's skin, wide eyed and filled with blind fury and childlike fear, she let him drop again, this time, his hook pierced through the ice to save his body from completely dropping into the water.
"I will ask once more, what are you doing here?!" The witch screamed at him, the pearled strands of her skirt, that covered absolutely nothing, dangled in front of his face when she slammed her foot down on the blunt side of his hook. Killian simply looked into her eyes, using every last ounce of willpower not to stare at her bare body, as remarkable as it was.
"My lady, I came in search of treasure, as I am a pirate, it is what I do" He explained, keeping collected. "I was not aware of the fact that a much more ravishing sorceress was guarding the treasure. I assure you, love, I bear no ill will"
She was a young witch, not one that preserved her body by magic, but simply, it was a body fresh in time. A witch full of power and naivety, as her white skin flushed red at his charm. She took a step back and with one wave of her hand, he was lifted back up and set on his feet. Relief rushed through him. Killian did not enjoy the cold. Despite the fact that they were on a tropical island out in uncharted waters, the grotto containing the untold amount of mountainous treasures was completely covered in ice.
"Oh, sailor. I apologize. My mother..." The young witch batted her lashes. "she often warned me of men like you."
"With good reason, many men would take advantage of you, but I am no mere man," Killian slowly reached up with his good hand and gently touched her face. "Love, there are no men like me."
It was the first time he had heard a witch giggle, although her usual voice of bells was changed for a delighted cackle in response to his touch, the sheer elated sound of it made ice crack below their feet. "Well, sailor." The witch grinned, enchated and enamored. "Do you like what you see?" She stepped back and spun, the softness of her flesh moved like a pearly satin embroidery, like one's he had a stolen from princesses and wealthy ladies themselves.
"Very much so. It is a sight that shall never leave my eyes. I would only wish to have something as remarkable to remember it by." He said, gesturing out to the mass of iced treasure around them. "Only, none of this would ever truly make true to your beauty."
He had one rule. No witches. You sleep with one, it's like you sleep with them all, as they were all the same. Dangerous after the fact. Clingy too, they never let their horded treasures go. But she was young and he knew very well that they young fell in love easily. Charm was their weakness, and the younger they were, the harder they fell.
Perhaps too easily. He knew his mistake.
She pounced in him, planting her white lips into his, he felt like he was kissing the ice itself. As quickly as she had been on him, she tore away. The look on her face was one of horror.
Bloody fantastic, he thought. She was a mind reader.
As a few he had seen, some witches could see the mind of those they touched. Obviously, this witch had. Her face contorted into utter heartbreak. The heartbreak of learning that this charming man was nothing more than... well... Hook. He had a quick look of feigned confusion on his face before he lost his footing beneath him.
"You-you disgusting bastard!" She screeched "You liar! You were going to steal my treasure! You were going to steal me, you filthy animal!" Ice all around him began to crack, even his hook simply snagged onto ice crumbles. She started to sreech and Killian just rolled his eyes as ice surrounded him as if he was in a pit. Her voice echoed as she left his sight, "I hope you freeze!"
White smoke rose from the ground, wrapping around him like a cocoon, taking the air from his lungs. One flash and he was was sent free falling, ice turned into trees and the air around him got even colder. He met with the ground, harder than his previous tumble on the ice, only to be flung back up again. this time, it was net.
"Bloody fantastic." He scoffed, his limbs dangling towards the unfamiliar ground. "I hate teleportation"