#so our first brief encounter with him i half suggested using charm person- a spell that specifically states “friendly acquaintance”

[im-still-a-robot]

Asked the dm about the ethereal plane in our modern setting and he gave me a piece of information that I didn't ask for but boy am I fucked up about

[jarienn972]

A Simple Spell - Chapter One

A 2019 Captain Swan Supernatural Summer Tale

This day managed to sneak up on me a bit but it is finally time for me to start posting my 2019 @cssns story!  After having so much fun taking a few creative challenges with last year’s event, I decided to take a huge chance by creating a bit of an AU universe here.  Our setting will still be Storybrooke but I’ve twisted up some of the familial relationships to develop a different world where Emma is a young deputy who has just recently discovered a whole lot about herself - family she didn’t know she had and powers she didn’t know she had.

I want to extend huge thanks to the organizers of this event which has already spawned some amazing stories (many of which I need to get caught up on!)  I also am so grateful for the assistance of my beta reader, @lassluna for helping me smooth out a few things and for the amazing art created by @cocohook38! (Edited to add this stellar piece of artwork to my post to complete the package!)

I am going to try to get new chapters posted every Monday, job permitting.  I accepted a new position at work last month that curtailed my writing time a bit, but I’m working to make sure updates are as prompt as can be.  Patience will be greatly appreciated and I do hope that everyone will enjoy reading this tale as much as I’m enjoying writing it!

Edited to add links: AO3 and FF.net and also added a cut that didn’t save yesterday.

If there was one thing that Emma Swan had learned during her brief residency in Storybrooke, it was that she had a lot to learn.

A whole lot to learn.

Perhaps it was finding the right teacher that had made adjusting more of a challenge than she’d anticipated but there was no doubt that she’d struggled during those early days.  She’d battled with her self-confidence and fought against a sometimes crippling loneliness, but she’d needed to find those with like abilities - because in a town blessed (or cursed) with magic, proper instruction in the ways of the supernatural was an absolute necessity.

Eight months ago, she would never have even dreamed that a place like Storybrooke existed, let alone discover that this unusual little town had been her birthplace.  Little details about her mysterious past emerged every day, but none more startling - and completely life changing - than the fact that she possessed a natural ability to utilize magic.  It was becoming both equally fascinating and terrifying to learn new details about her past and the family that she and her late mother, Ava, had left behind.  

Since she was a little girl growing up in one of the poorer sections of Boston, Emma had possessed an intense curiosity about her family.  Maybe part of that stemmed from growing up in a city so steeped in history. She’d yearned to know more about her own ancestry, but her mother had never been particularly forthcoming about anything.  It was always as though their past was some deep, dark secret - especially any mention of Emma’s absent father who her mother scarcely even spoke of. 

After her mother passed away, Emma found that her desire to find the family she was missing couldn’t be tempered. She began actively utilizing resources available to her through her position as a bail bonds person to try to find any remaining family she might have and eventually, her tireless research led her to a half-brother, David Nolan, who resided in the small town of Storybrooke, Maine and served as the town Sheriff. She’d taken a step out of her comfort zone to reach out and after a few weeks of telephone conversations, David and his wife, Mary Margaret, convinced Emma to come visit them.

Initially, Emma had planned for just a brief weekend trip but as soon as she arrived in the quirky little seaside town, she found her insatiable curiosity piqued.  By the end of the second day, she’d felt so comfortable and so at home here that she made the decision to relocate to Storybrooke - and that was when the fun began. David had hired her on as a deputy, giving her plenty of access to the town records to continue her research, understanding her need to fill in the gaps of her heritage. Absolutely nothing had prepared her for the shock of discovering the town’s biggest secret until she’d barged in on a drunk and disorderly call down at the Rabbit Hole and stumbled upon a man levitating above the bar, cheerfully showering the bartender and a few fellow patrons with what smelled like bourbon.

Stranger yet, Emma had sensed an odd energy even before stepping into the tavern.  There was some sort of a connection she’d experienced with the levitating drunkard and he’d instantly dropped to the floor in a heavily-sauced heap the moment she’d raised her hand toward him.  She hadn’t known what it was back then, but it had been the moment she discovered her first hint that she was a witch.  And not just any witch - she’d been born with potential not seen before in Storybrooke - only she didn’t know it yet.  

She hadn’t even known how to address the incident with David until he’d burst out in a fit of laughter. Having spent a lifetime in Storybrooke, he’d already figured out what his younger sister was skirting around.  He confirmed for her that while neither he nor his wife possessed any otherworldly abilities (aside from his charming personality), the town was indeed was ripe with magic.  Magic had been that unusual energy she’d sensed enveloping her and he was certain that if she could feel it, she could wield it, and if that was indeed the case, she needed to find a tutor quickly.  He’d seen far too many citizens here who’d been driven mad by powers they couldn’t fully harness or control.

And oh boy, did she ever have a lot to learn!

She had a flurry of thoughts crossing her mind as she eased her battered old Volkswagen Beetle to the curb outside of the Sheriff station.  It had just now dawned on her that today marked exactly eight months since she’d first communicated with her long-lost brother and found her life turned entirely upside down, although certainly for the better.  She’d given up a lonely life of chasing bail jumpers in Boston in favor of this small town’s laid back lifestyle - well, mostly laid back.

She recalled arriving here expecting to deal with minor little crimes like tractor tipping, petty larceny and the occasional pickpocket fleecing the tourists visiting their picturesque seaside haven, but it certainly wasn’t what she’d found.  Even though David hadn’t been particularly forthcoming about the town’s supernatural side, Emma had gotten used to arresting people for placing evil spells on their neighbors to make their crops fail or hexing their dog for growling at them.  It was now just part of her day to day routine and she kept trying to immerse herself into magical education to hone the skills she’d recently discovered.

David had encouraged her to talk to Storybrooke’s Mayor, Regina Mills, who was well-known to be a practitioner of Wiccan arts.  Her sister, Zelena, was also a seasoned witch and the two of them had developed a powerful coven that at one time had included several members Emma hadn’t even realized practiced witchcraft like the town’s pawn shop owner, a local waitress, and one of the elementary school teachers.  Regina had initially been reluctant to bring Emma into their fold due to her inexperience, but upon learning she was David’s sister, she’d caved and agreed to help Emma.  Emma had been studying under Regina and Zelena’s tutelage for nearly six months now which almost seemed unbelievable.  Her brain was filled with Latin words and phrases that formed the simple spells she’d practiced and she’d helped brew a few potions, almost grateful that she didn’t know what some of the unsavory ingredients actually were.

She smiled to herself as she clambered out of her car, pinning her deputy badge to the waistband of her jet black twill pants.  She felt she was adapting fairly well to her new reality and certainly believed that she was more confident today than she’d been eight months ago, and now it was time to start a new workday. She raised the rear hem of her crimson leather jacket to tuck her service weapon into the holster she wore at the small of her back, hearing the echo of David’s repeated complaints and suggestions that she switch to a shoulder or hip holster.  She just found this style more comfortable as it allowed her to easily conceal her weapon beneath her nearly ever-present leather jacket, the garment she wore as though it were some sort of magical armor even long before she’d set foot in Storybrooke.

She unconsciously wrapped a stray tendril of blonde hair around her index finger, slipping the wayward strands behind her ear as she pushed open the front door of the station and strolled inside.  Unsurprisingly, early bird David was already present, chatting with his other deputy, Graham Humbert.  From what she could garner walking in on the conversation, they were discussing one of the town’s most bewitching potions - the virtually irresistible brew that Granny served at her namesake diner.  By the level of chipper she was encountering in the squad room, and from the aroma wafting from the takeout cups in hand, she knew they’d both already partaken of Granny’s intoxicating elixir, which made her a little jealous that she’d have to settle for the inferior substance found in the station’s break room that passed for coffee.

“Good morning, Emma,” David greeted her.  “I was wondering if you were going to make it in on time this morning.  You got home pretty late last night…”  She knew David wanted to ask if she’d had a date, but he held his tongue.  It was no surprise that he and Mary Margaret had been encouraging her to go on a few dates, but considering that the other person present had been the other half of a disastrous evening a few weeks back, she was glad he didn’t ask.  That single dinner date with Graham had not gone well, but they’d chosen to put it behind them so they could remain amicably working together.

As much as she’d appreciated David and Mary Margaret’s offer to rent out the upstairs bedroom of their loft, the longer she stayed, the more she thought it might be time to start searching for a place of her own. She’d inevitably wear out her welcome and there was definitely a privacy issue should she ever want to bring a date home.  It wasn’t exactly the sort of thing you wanted your brother knowing - or especially hearing…

“I’m sorry if I woke you up when I came in last night,” she replied as she made her way across the squad room to her desk against the far wall.  She took a precursory glance at the stack of files awaiting her before shrugging off her jacket and hanging it on the back of her chair. “Had a late night lesson with the Evil Queen and I stuck around the vault to read up on spell casting.”

“You know, you really should stop calling Regina, the Evil Queen,” David chided her, trying to keep a straight face until he was betrayed by a chuckle he couldn’t hold back. Emma certainly wasn’t the only person in town who used the nickname in reference to the town’s mayor, but Emma was one of the more vocal - probably the only one who’d ever said it to Regina’s face and lived to talk about it. “I know she’s a bossy pain in the ass, but she’s still trying to help you develop your magic.”

“I know, I know,” she assured her brother as she dropped onto her chair.  “Some days, I could do without her condescending attitude though. I know she’s trying to help, David, but there are times when she treats me as though I’m beneath her and it really irks me.  Same goes for the Wicked Witch…”

“The Mills family has been running this town for decades,” Graham chimed in.  “They’ve been practicing magic since childhood, so it’s probably best to just give them a break.  They wouldn’t have agreed to accept you into the coven if they didn’t believe you had potential.”

“Eh, I’m not worried about them throwing me out over nicknames.  They call each other far worse and you should hear some of the things they call me,” Emma said, dismissing any worry the two men had. “Usually it’s The Prodigal or sometimes just Lucky Bitch. It’s all in good fun.”

“Yeah, well anyway, it’s time for the two of you to get to work,” David stated as he held up two slips of paper in his right hand. “Which of you wants to take the disorderly conduct call and which of you wants to take the vandalism call from the middle school?”

“Such excitement,” Emma groaned. “I’ll flip you for it, Humbert…”

“Oh yeah, when they’re equally bad, does it really matter?” Graham complained. 

“You two decide quickly or I delegate,” David insisted. “I’m going to be in my office going over last week’s reports. Anything either of you would like to amend before I review them?”  Emma and Graham each shook their head and began to debate which investigation would be the lesser one while David rolled his eyes at his deputies.  He left them to their argument as he headed for the relative peace and quiet of his office.

———-

In the end, Emma wound up following up on the disorderly conduct call from the town harbormaster.  David had insisted that she take the Sheriff cruiser instead of her own beat up Bug so that her arrival would look as official as possible since the complaint involved a ship full of merchant sailors from out of town. She hadn’t bothered with the lights or siren as the reported incident wasn’t currently in progress, having occurred earlier that morning.  The harbormaster had encountered a drunken sailor tossing barrels and something described in the complaint as floatation devices into the bay. She wasn’t quite sure what these floatation devices might be, but she was certainly curious.

Her earlier phone call to the harbormaster’s shack had gone unanswered so she decided to head down to the marina and pay a visit to the vessel the unruly sailor had arrived on - an ancient-looking wooden merchant ship moored at the marina.  She parked the cruiser at the harbor entrance, a few hundred yards from the gangplank and as she climbed out of the vehicle, she couldn’t shake the thought that the boat looked suspiciously akin to a pirate ship straight off of a Hollywood film set.  While it might not have been uncommon for Storybrooke to attract some eclectic tourists, she wasn’t entirely convinced that the crew milling around the marina were actually merchants.

The vessel’s soaring masts towered above everything else in the harbor, maybe even over most of the buildings in town. It was also buzzing with activity this morning as crew members were busy loading and unloading cargo, some hoisting crates and barrels from pier to deck with a system of ropes and pulleys while others hefted merchandise up and down the gangplank.  Emma made certain that her badge was prominently visible as she strolled furtively towards the gangplank and asked the first person she encountered in her path who was in charge.  The uninterested and seemingly annoyed man stabbed a filthy finger at the top of the gangplank and replied that she needed to ask for the captain.

Emma nodded and thanked him before forging her way up to the ship’s deck while the man she’d so rudely interrupted resumed his tasks.  She took a tentative step onto the plank decking and spied a mousy little man clad in a corduroy overcoat that had definitely seen better days and who sported a shapeless red knit cap atop his head.  The man didn’t appear to have noticed her arrival so Emma called out in attempt to garner his attention.  

“Excuse me, I’m looking for the captain. Could you tell me where to find him?”  When it didn’t appear that he’d heard her query, Emma repeated her request a smidge louder. “Pardon me - where might I find the captain?”

“Oh, sorry, sorry,”  the man apologized profusely as he spun around to face the unexpected guest. “Cap’n doesn’t like when we fall behind schedule.”

“So he’s here?”

“Who’s here?” the befuddled man asked her, his eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“Your captain,” she clarified, shaking her head in disbelief. “Is he here?”

“Oh, yes.  Yes.  He’s in his quarters.”

“Alright then, how might I find the captain’s quarters?” she pressed, growing rapidly frustrated with the lack of cooperation she was getting.

“Oh, the captain wouldn’t like a stranger poking about his ship.  I’ll go fetch him.  Please - wait here, miss…”

“Deputy,” Emma corrected him as he scurried across the deck, uncertain of whether he’d even heard her.  She didn’t have much experience with ships, especially not with relics like this one but she had to admit that there was a certain beauty to the expanse of soaring masts and billowing sails.  Well, sails that would have been billowing were they not lashed down while in port.  She’d become so entranced that she failed to notice the figure wordlessly approaching her until he spoke.

“Welcome aboard the Jolly Roger, Love,” a velvety, deep voice with a hint of a British accent greeted her, rendering her momentarily speechless as she turned in the direction the voice had originated and caught her first glimpse of the captain. The timbre of his voice should have served as warning but instead, did nothing to prepare her for the appearance of the man who stood before her. He was probably a hair shy of six foot tall but it wasn’t his height that gave off an imposing impression, rather his all-black attire.  Slim, black denim trousers. Polished black leather boots with a hint of a silver cap at the toe. A jet black oxford style shirt topped with a three button black leather vest. And over the entire ensemble, he sported a black leather jacket that glistened with a hint of salt spray and fell just past his hips.

Her gaze darted upward to get captured by a pair of sparking, sapphire blue eyes beneath a fringe of wind-tossed dark, chestnut brown hair.  A broad smile stretched across his lips and one eyebrow inched upward in amusement as he soaked in her perusal of him.

“See something you like, Love?” he teased, lip curling into a lopsided smirk as he relished the attention. “My first mate, Mr. Smee, advised me that there was a lovely lass asking for the captain, and as I’ve never been one to keep a beautiful woman waiting, you now have my full and prompt audience.  How may I be of assistance, M’lady?”

The words rolled off his tongue so smoothly that Emma nearly forgot why she was here, but after a few stunned seconds, her sensible self clawed her way to the surface and reminded her that now wasn’t the time to get lost in a handsome face.  She had work to do.  “It’s Deputy,” she corrected him. “Deputy Emma Swan of the Storybrooke Sheriff department. You’re the captain of this boat?”

“The proper term would be ship,” he countered, visibly cringing at the injustice done to his vessel. “And aye, I am Captain Killian Jones.” He extended his right hand in greeting to shake hers.  She scarcely noticed that he kept his left arm tucked behind his back as he switched seamlessly to a business-like tone. “Since I don’t have reason to believe this is a social call, Deputy - as much as I might like it to be - how may I assist you today?”  It was also his turn to surmise who he was dealing with in this pretty blonde package.  She was certainly quite guarded.  He’d noticed that the moment she realized he’d caught on to her visual assessment of him.  She’d instantly faded into an embarrassed defensive before coming back with the steely law enforcement facade. But he’d also spied an intensity and curiosity lurking behind the warm emerald of her eyes.  What a challenge it would be to find her softer side, he thought as she responded.

“Well, Captain,” she began in a fully, professional composed voice, “my office received a complaint this morning from the harbormaster that someone from this ship got a little too rowdy.”

“My apologies, lass,” he said with an over exaggerated sigh. “One member of my crew, Mr. Parsons, imbibed himself a smidge too much of your town’s finest libations.  He returned to the ship too inebriated to locate the gangplank and when confronted by your harbormaster, he became perhaps a tad too belligerent and began hefting things about.”

“That much I’m aware of,” she reminded him with a note of sarcasm in her response. “The harbormaster reported several barrels and other assorted items being thrown into the bay.  He hasn’t yet formally reported any damages…”

“It isn’t likely that he shall,” Captain Jones replied with a flat dismissal of her concerns. “I’ve paid him a tidy sum already to cover the damages and the offender, Mr. Parsons, has been confined to the brig as punishment.”

“May I speak to Mr. Parsons?” Emma queried, a tad miffed that the matter appeared to have been resolved long before she’d arrived. She was supposed to be representing the law here, not this cocky visiting ship’s captain. “I would like to speak to both him and the harbormaster before I declare this matter closed or decide that additional charges might still apply.”

“You are more than welcome to speak to him once he sobers up,” the captain assured her. 

“Good.  You aren’t planning on leaving port any time soon, are you?”

“No, Deputy.  We’ll be here for the remainder of this week as we’re awaiting supplies yet to arrive from out of town.”

“Good,” she repeated. “I’ll be back later this afternoon.”

“I shall eagerly await your return,” he responded with a salacious grin. “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Deputy Swan.” Emma rolled her eyes as he made his exit by giving her a sweeping mock bow.  Was this guy actually for real? At this point, she wasn’t even certain what to put in her report aside from the fact that the matter appeared to be closed - at least until she spoke to the harbormaster.

But there was something else nagging at her subconscious as she descended the gangplank to the dock and Emma wasn’t sure how she should feel about it.  The encounter with Captain Jones had her rethinking her actions from last night and silently wondering if perhaps she might have gone a bit too far… She had to push that out of her mind immediately though because there was no chance the two could be connected…

No chance at all…