Also originally posted on my fanfiction account, onceuponacaptain. Please check it out? :) Thanks for reading!
It all came back in flashes.
-
The woman would be a tough one to figure, at least to other people, but dare he say it? he identified with her somehow.
As if...the lass was meant for him.
No.
He would not give himself that hope, because it could bloody well destroy him.
She was just an obstacle in his way; he had a motive, and she interfered with his plans.
Just, you know, your typical stubborn, flashing-eyed, feisty woman (though, no doubt, those were all qualities that held a certain appeal to him in a female) who got on his nerves constantly with her confounding ability to see right through him.
But for the time, he observed offhandedly that the lass was resourceful and that could aid him for the meantime, in getting to the beanstalk.
What happened later was of no matter; the present contained significantly more heft than the future, and he would decide then if she was worthy of allying himself with.
Besides, he was never one to resist the company of a beautiful woman.
--
It was required for him to take the effort of being an actual person, not just a man spewing innuendos who shamelessly flirted with her to get her to talk, that was certain, he perceived quickly. Such a shame; if the woman tried just bloody trusting him, or just in general she could be quite pleasant.
He could be quite pleasant too, at least he was in a past age, and he had certain specialties if she just stuck around long enough...
He tried again, prying into her past, easily distinguishing the residual sorrow that hung around her, the aura of an orphan, and her unwavering devotion for her son.
That wasn't the only person she'd ever loved, however.
To her credit, she was able to detect that he had been in love, in a time where his heart had not gone completely blackened and dark. Despite her superhuman attempts to lie to him, he still knew, so had she. Once, like him, but a love that ruined her heart.
Maybe they were somewhat alike.
No. He wouldn't have left her like she left him on the fucking beanstalk.
She'd saved him from falling over the tripwire, but clearly it was just a distraction to fool him into believing that she trusted him.
That goddamned Swan.
And now, he was stuck in the loveliest of places-the beanstalk.
Next time he encountered her, he was going to take a great deal of enjoyment in telling her to bugger off.
--
As fate would have it, the next time their paths crossed was after she had no escape.
He used the opportunity to gloat, because him and Cora were almost victorious-was there any doubt?
Still. Almost was never enough, he knew that from experience.
He couldn't resist pouring salt in her wound, though, taunting that her hope was shriveled, lost gone; that she and her companions, foolish women they were, possessed the upper hand no longer, and in fact they had never possessed it at all.
She was useless to him, yet he took a sort of boyish pleasure in seeing her face.
Meeting those eyes, clouded with such sadness, yet such determination. Always determination.
