V. Fear and Fire

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Baby Doll by Dominic Fike

descendants two

Estella didn't move from her spot against the wall for what felt like an eternity, her fingers gripping the edges of her skirt as she tried to steady her breathing. The room still carried his warmth, his scent—salt, leather, and danger—and it was suffocating.

"Pull it together," she muttered to herself, raking her fingers through her hair. "He's just a pirate. A smug, arrogant pirate. Nothing special."

But even as the words left her lips, she knew they were a lie. There was something about Harry Hook that had burrowed under her skin, something she couldn't shake.

She paced the room, biting her lip in frustration. She needed to focus on the bigger picture—Ben. Escaping. Getting back to Auradon. Not... whatever that almost-moment was.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

Before she could react, it swung open, and Harry stepped back in, his signature smirk firmly in place.

"Miss me, pixie?" he teased, his hook resting casually over his shoulder.

Estella rolled her eyes, masking the way her pulse quickened. "Oh, absolutely. I've been dying for another lecture on how scary and important you are."

Harry chuckled, closing the door behind him. He leaned against it, blocking her only exit. "Careful, love. Keep talkin' like that, and I might think you like having me around."

She crossed her arms, glaring at him. "In your dreams, Hook."

"Funny," he said, tilting his head, "you're the one who looks flustered."

Estella scoffed, forcing herself to look as unimpressed as possible. "The only thing flustering me is this terrible lighting. Don't you pirates believe in proper illumination?"

Harry grinned, clearly enjoying every second of their back-and-forth. "Oh, we've got candles. But somethin' tells me you don't need much light to keep your sharp tongue workin'."

She opened her mouth to fire back, but Harry's expression shifted. His smirk softened, his blue eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her.

"You're not like the others," he said after a moment, his voice quieter.

Estella blinked, caught off guard. "What are you talking about?"

He pushed off the door, stepping closer. Not menacing this time—just... curious. His usual cocky demeanor was still there, but there was a sincerity in his gaze that made her stomach twist.

"The royals," he said simply, gesturing vaguely with his hook. "All prim and proper. Always scared out of their minds when they see me." His eyes locked onto hers. "But not you."

Estella swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. "Maybe because I know you're all bark and no bite."

Harry chuckled, but there was no malice in it. "Is that what you think?"

She nodded, forcing a smirk. "I think you're just a boy with a hook who talks too much."

He stepped even closer, close enough now that she had to crane her neck to look up at him. "And I think you're just a girl who talks too much because she's afraid of what'll happen if she doesn't."

The words hit her like a punch to the chest. Her breath caught, and for the first time, she didn't have a comeback.

Harry's expression softened further, and he tilted his head, his gaze flickering to her lips before returning to her eyes. "Tell me I'm wrong," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Estella's heart hammered against her ribs, and she hated how much she wanted to lean into him, to close the gap that seemed to shrink with every passing second.

But she didn't. Instead, she forced herself to glare up at him, her voice trembling as she said, "You don't know me."

Harry smiled, a small, almost sad curve of his lips. "Maybe not. But I know enough to see you're not as fearless as you pretend to be."

Her breath hitched, and she shook her head, stepping back until her shoulders hit the wall again. "You think you've got me figured out, don't you?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he leaned in, his hand brushing against hers where it rested against the wall. The touch sent a spark up her arm, and she cursed herself for how her body reacted to him.

For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. She thought she was going to let him.

But then, the door burst open, and one of the pirate crew stepped in, looking harried. "Harry! Uma wants you on deck—there's trouble."

Harry sighed, his jaw tightening as he glanced back at the intruder. "Of course there is."

The crew member left just as quickly as he'd come, leaving Harry and Estella alone again.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Harry straightened, stepping back and flashing her a wry grin. "Guess you'll have to wait a little longer for that escape plan of yours, pixie."

Estella scowled, though her cheeks were still burning. "Trust me, Hook, I'd rather drown than be stuck here with you."

Harry chuckled, heading for the door. "Careful what you wish for."

And with that, he was gone, leaving Estella alone with her racing thoughts and the memory of how close they'd just come to something she couldn't quite name.

Estella paced the small room once Harry had left, her fingers twitching at her sides as she replayed the moment over and over in her mind. The way his voice softened, the way his eyes flickered with something she couldn't quite name. The way she had hesitated when she should have shoved him away.

"Get it together," she muttered to herself, shaking her head. "He's a pirate. A cocky, infuriating pirate. Not some prince from a fairy tale."

Still, she couldn't deny the way her body had betrayed her. The quickened pulse, the heat in her cheeks, the way her breath had hitched when his face had hovered so close to hers. She groaned, covering her face with her hands. "This is the worst plan I've ever had, and I didn't even plan it."

Her musings were cut short when the door swung open again. This time, two crew members entered, each gripping her arms tightly.

"Captain wants her on deck," one of them grunted.

Estella didn't resist, though her jaw clenched as they dragged her back through the narrow hallways of the ship. She was angry—at them, at Harry, at herself—and she was determined not to let it show.

When they emerged onto the deck, the night air hit her like a slap, cool and sharp. The ship was in chaos. Pirates were running in every direction, shouting orders and hauling ropes, and at the center of it all stood Uma, her trident in hand and a scowl on her face.

Harry was beside her, leaning casually against the railing as if he didn't have a care in the world. When his eyes landed on Estella, his smirk returned, and she felt her temper flare.

"Well, well," he called over the commotion. "Look who decided to join the party."

"Believe me, I'd rather sit in that stuffy little room than deal with this mess," Estella snapped, glaring at him.

Uma turned, her gaze sharp as she looked between Harry and Estella. "Why is she still walking around?" she demanded, her voice cutting through the noise. "I thought you had her under control, Harry."

"Oh, she's under control," Harry said with a lazy shrug, his smirk deepening. "She's just got a lot of spirit. I thought you'd appreciate that."

Uma rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "Keep her out of my way."

Before Estella could retort, a loud creak echoed through the ship as it lurched to the side, nearly sending her sprawling. Harry caught her arm, steadying her with an infuriatingly firm grip.

"Careful, pixie," he said, his voice low. "Wouldn't want you to fall overboard."

She jerked her arm away, her glare sharp enough to cut. "I can take care of myself, thanks."

Harry chuckled, stepping closer as chaos swirled around them. "Oh, I don't doubt that. But you're on my ship now, and that means you play by my rules."

Estella scoffed, crossing her arms. "Your rules? I haven't seen you do much leading, Hook. You're more of a... decorative nuisance."

Harry raised a brow, his smirk turning into a grin. "Decorative, am I? I think that's the nicest thing you've said to me all night."

She opened her mouth to retort, but the ship lurched again, and this time, the ropes above them snapped, sending a barrel crashing to the deck mere feet from where they stood.

"Right," Harry said, grabbing her arm again. "Enough standing around. Let's get you somewhere safe before you get yourself killed."

"I'm fine!" Estella protested, struggling against his grip as he dragged her toward the stairs leading below deck.

But Harry didn't let go. He hauled her down the stairs with ease, his long strides making it impossible for her to dig in her heels. When they reached the bottom, he shoved open a door and pushed her inside, shutting it behind them.

Estella spun around, her fists clenched. "You don't get to just—"

"Save it," Harry interrupted, leaning back against the door with an exasperated look. "You're safer here, and I'm not in the mood to argue with you."

Her anger flared. "You don't get to decide what's safe for me, Hook!"

Harry's expression darkened, his usual playful smirk replaced with something more serious. "You're on a pirate ship in the middle of a fight. This isn't Auradon, princess. Out there, you're nothing but a liability."

Estella bristled, stepping closer to him. "Don't call me that. And I'm not a liability—I didn't ask to be here in the first place!"

Harry's jaw tightened, and for a moment, they were toe-to-toe, the tension between them crackling like lightning.

"You don't know what you're talkin' about," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"And you don't know me," she shot back, her voice trembling with anger. "Stop pretending you do."

For a moment, neither of them moved. Their faces were so close that she could see the faint stubble on his jaw, the storm in his blue eyes. Her breath hitched, and she hated how she couldn't tear her gaze away from his.

"You're infuriating," she whispered.

Harry's lips twitched, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "And you're impossible."

The air between them shifted, heavy and charged. His hand came up, fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. The touch was brief, but it sent a shiver down her spine.

Before she could stop herself, her eyes flicked to his lips, and for a heartbeat, she thought he might close the gap.

But then, a loud bang echoed from above deck, and Harry pulled back, his expression hardening.

"Stay here," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

This time, Estella didn't fight him. She simply watched as he disappeared back through the door, leaving her alone with the echo of his touch and the chaos above.

The minutes stretched into what felt like hours. Estella sat perched on the edge of a wooden crate, her fingers drumming anxiously against her knees. Every creak of the ship, every muffled shout above deck, made her flinch.

Her mind raced with worst-case scenarios. What if something had happened to Ben? What if he was hurt—or worse? The thought made her chest tighten, and she cursed her own helplessness.

"I should've stayed with him," she muttered under her breath, pacing the small room. "Why did I let Hook drag me down here? He's probably up there gloating while Ben—"

She shook her head, unwilling to finish the thought.

The noise above deck eventually quieted, replaced by an eerie stillness that made the room feel suffocating. Estella pressed her ear to the door, straining to hear anything, but it was no use.

Her patience snapped. She yanked on the door handle, but it didn't budge. Locked.

"Of course," she muttered, kicking the door in frustration. "Because being trapped on a pirate ship wasn't bad enough."

She paced again, biting her thumbnail as her worry for Ben grew unbearable. He wasn't built for this kind of thing—he was kind and diplomatic, not someone who thrived in chaos. He needed her.

Just as she was debating whether to start shouting for someone—anyone—the door creaked open.

Harry stepped inside, his hook dangling lazily at his side, his free hand running through his messy hair. His shirt was slightly damp, his chest rising and falling as if he'd just come from a fight.

"Finally!" Estella snapped, rushing toward him. "What took you so long? What's happening? Where's Ben?"

Harry shut the door behind him, leaning against it with an exasperated expression. "Nice to see you, too, pixie."

"Don't—don't start with me right now," she said, her voice sharp as she stepped closer. "Where is he? Is he okay? What did you do to him?"

Harry raised a brow, his smirk faltering at the genuine panic in her voice. "He's fine," he said, his tone unusually calm. "Uma's got him under guard, same as before."

Estella narrowed her eyes, her fists clenching at her sides. "You're sure? You're not lying to me?"

Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Why would I lie about that? The lad's in one piece, alright? Bit shaken, maybe, but unharmed."

She exhaled shakily, her shoulders sagging as relief flooded through her. "Thank God," she murmured, pressing a hand to her forehead.

Harry watched her silently, his usual cockiness replaced by something softer. "You really care about him, don't you?"

Estella's head snapped up, her eyes flashing. "Of course I care about him! He's my friend, and he's only in this mess because of you lot!"

Harry's jaw tightened, and for a moment, the playful glint in his eyes dimmed. "Right. Because everything's the pirates' fault."

She frowned, crossing her arms. "Well, isn't it? You're the ones who kidnapped us, remember?"

Harry stepped closer, his boots heavy against the wooden floor. "You think it's that simple, pixie? You think Uma, or me, or anyone else on this ship had a choice in how things turned out for us?"

Estella blinked, startled by the edge in his voice.

"You lot up in Auradon," he continued, his tone sharp but quiet, "you look down at us like we're nothin'. Like we're just... villains. But this? This life? It's survival. And if you don't get that, maybe you're not as clever as you think you are."

For a moment, the room was silent, the tension between them crackling like a live wire.

Estella swallowed hard, her anger tempered by something she didn't want to name. Pity? Understanding? She didn't know. "That doesn't mean it's okay," she said softly, her voice lacking the bite it usually carried. "What you're doing—what Uma's doing—it's not right."

Harry tilted his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Right or wrong doesn't mean much out here, love. But for what it's worth, I'm not planning on hurtin' you or your princely friend. Not unless you give me a reason to."

Estella held his gaze, searching for any sign of deceit, but all she saw was exhaustion—and something that looked a lot like honesty.

"I just want to make sure he's okay," she said finally, her voice quieter now. "That's all I care about."

Harry nodded, his expression softening. "He's alright. I swear it."

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the air between them heavy with unspoken words. Then Harry stepped back, gesturing toward the crate she'd been sitting on earlier.

"Get some rest, pixie," he said, his smirk returning, though it was smaller this time. "You'll need your strength if you're planning on outsmartin' me tomorrow."

Estella scoffed, though it lacked her usual fire. "You make it sound like that's hard to do."

Harry chuckled, opening the door and stepping halfway through it. He paused, glancing back at her with a look she couldn't quite place.

"Goodnight, Estella," he said, his voice softer than she expected.

And then he was gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts—and the strange, unfamiliar feeling settling in her chest.