Author's note: I am following canon up to Hook showing up at Emma's door in Going Home, so this story has no Walsh, Snow's not pregnant, and Neal didn't try to bring back Rumple with the consequences that happened on the show. Also, I'm fairly new to the OUAT fandom so if I make any canon errors in this I do apologize, I'm still getting caught up on all the eps.

This will go M eventually but it will take a few chapter to get there.

And I don't own any of these characters

Chapter One: Out of the Woodwork

His Royal Highness Francis Felipe Fergus Frederich Fenton Fraser Fabian Flavio Ferdinand

Crown Prince of the Kingdom of the Everlasting Mountain.

Benevolent Duke of the Isles in the North.

Beloved Lord of the Lower Plains.

Tall. Cultured. Handsome. Wealthy.

Dressed head to toe in rich purple velvet with a fine fur cloak, a proud set to his shoulders, he looked every inch the fine young noble, blue blood in his veins and the world at his feet.

Hook wasn't impressed.

By the look on her face as the Prince swept a low bow in front of her, hat in his hand, neither was Emma. The short, fat manservant at the Prince's side was calling out his ridiculously long name and list of titles in a high-pitched nasal whine, and it was all Hook could do to keep from scoffing out loud. The Wicked Witch was finally defeated, there was peace in the Enchanted Forest once more as Snow and David retook their rightful places on the throne, and word had clearly spread to the neighbouring kingdoms of their return.

And of their beautiful and unmarried daughter, heiress to that throne.

As the Prince launched into an obviously rehearsed speech calling for an alliance between his kingdom and theirs, speaking flowery words of friendship and flattery, Hook saw his eyes on Emma the whole time, directing his words to her even though he was addressing her parents. As he droned on and on, Snow and David's faces glazed over, and Regina was openly rolling her eyes. Emma kept a polite smile fixed on her face, nodding along with his words, but when Francis grasped her hand and kissed it, proclaiming her to be the "Most gentle-hearted beacon of sweetness in the land," the smile faded and she looked like she had just swallowed a mouthful of glass.

"Of for the love of," Regina muttered, stomping away in disgust, and Hook bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

"Yeah, thanks," Emma said, yanking her hand back. She looked over the Prince's shoulder and met Hook's gaze. He raised his eyebrows at her and mouthed, "Beacon of sweetness."

Emma scowled, a beacon of annoyance, folding her arms across her chest. Prince Francis finally turned to her parents, who wore twin expressions of amusement as they thanked him for his kind words and invited him to stay in the castle and join in their victory celebrations. He accepted with ten times as many words as were necessary, looking at Emma again. She had inched away from him, arms still folded.

The fat manservant bustled forward, calling out instructions to the other members of the Prince's retinue. Snow and David linked arms and headed back towards the main entrance, Emma followed behind, pointedly ignoring the arm Francis had held out to her.

Hook watched him tilt his head at Emma's retreating form, clearly appraising her. The manservant moved beside him, and the Prince grabbed his arm, "She is beautiful. She's the one, my future bride!"

He had turned to speak into his servant's ear, and caught sight of Hook standing behind him. Hook smirked at him, raising his hook and tapping it against his lips. Francis flushed, clearly he hadn't noticed that Hook had been standing close enough to overhear. He clapped his feather-tipped hat back onto his head and turned on his heel, raising himself up to his full height as he stalked with forced dignity after Emma and her parents.

Hook supposed he should have expected this. She would be the first to turn up her nose at the idea, but Emma's hand was now a prize to be won, a treasure that many princes and lords would be attempting to claim. They would come in droves now, with their fine clothes and pretty words, drawn by the tales of her beauty, eyeing her crown.

But he was a pirate, and when it came to treasure, and a treasure as precious as the heart of the fair Swan, he had spied it's worth long ago when it had been hidden away from everyone else's blind eyes and laid his own claim. He had offered to relinquish it once and only once, and he had no plans of doing so ever again.

Hook lazily ambled towards the castle. Prince Fancypants didn't stand a chance. But watching him fall flat on his face was going to be fine entertainment.