Harbor In the Tempest (1/5)
After an attack by the Lost Boys, Emma and Killian find themselves in an impossible situation. Canon divergence from 3x07.
This was an idea I had back in September, but let it sit after writing the intro and finally picked it up again recently. Working on it has basically kept me going during an intensely shitty week. The first 3 chapters are already complete. @caprelloidea is basically the best person ever for helping me through this one.
Word Count: 5165
They’ve just finished filling the canteens when he hears it. A familiar rustle somewhere behind him in the jungle, the same noise that kept him on edge for years in this hellish place, the one that left him looking over his shoulder for centuries. He glances over at Emma to see she’s oblivious, capping the water and adjusting the satchel over her shoulder, her ears not as attuned to this place as his are.
“Swan,” he whispers. She turns to face him and he raises a finger to his lips, tilting his head in the direction of the noise.
They stand there frozen for a long moment listening, the only sounds the occasional call of a bird or the chirping of an insect. He’s just about to relax when he hears it again, and by the tensing of Emma’s shoulders she can as well. She looks toward the noise and back at him, instinctively reaching over her shoulder for her cutlass.
The cutlass she’d given back to Baelfire.
Her eyes widen, and the first tinge of panic starts creeping up his nerves. Emma glances around for something, anything she can use as a weapon as he draws his own sword, stepping between the noise and Emma. It could just be an animal, or one of their group wondering what’s taking them so long, or -
The Lost Boys appear, faces slowly emerging from the jungle. First just in front of him, and then to his right, and his left, swords glinting in the sunlight and arrows dark-tipped with poison.
A dozen weapons against one.
He spares the quickest of glances back and sees Emma frozen, still empty-handed. He turns back to his attackers, one last sweep of the landscape as he considers their options. There’s only one.
There’s only a split-second before they both turn and sprint, splashing over the shallow stream and barreling headlong into the jungle. They need to put some distance between them and the Lost Boys, take advantage of their longer strides and find some kind of hiding place to wait it out as they go by. But as his legs and lungs first start to burn as they duck and tumble and run, dodging arrows the whole way, he realizes what Pan’s crew is really doing.
They’re being herded.