Hooks and Heartstrings

6 ~ Chains and Shadows

The heavy door to the brig slammed shut, reverberating through the cold stone walls and sealing Ben inside. The dim light from a flickering lantern barely pierced the gloom, casting long shadows that danced on the damp, grimy floor. The salty scent of the sea mixed with the stale odor of old fish and rusted metal, settling in the cramped space like an unwelcome visitor.

Ben lowered himself onto the rough wooden bench, his wrists bound just tight enough to remind him of his captivity. Nearby, a chipped plate sat abandoned on a puddle-stained table, piled with soggy fish and limp chips—a meager meal that spoke more of neglect than hospitality. He could almost taste the grease and salt lingering in the air.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated and restless. His thoughts kept drifting back to Mal's words, the weight of her decision sinking deep into his chest. She had left to protect him—and Auradon—but the ache of her absence gnawed at him.

Suddenly, the brig door creaked open, breaking the silence like a crack in a fragile glass.

Harry Hook swaggered inside, his hook gleaming in the muted light. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he surveyed Ben's confined figure. "Well, well, well," he began with a smirk, "How's our King of Auradon doing? Enjoying the fine accommodations?"

Ben met Harry's gaze, steady despite the unease tightening in his stomach. "This won't get you anywhere, Harry."

A low, amused chuckle escaped Harry's lips. "Oh, but it already has. You're our ace in the hole now. The stakes just got a lot higher."

Reagan appeared in the doorway behind Harry, arms crossed, her expression unreadable but watchful. She leaned against the frame, silently signaling to Harry that there were limits to his games tonight.

Harry relished the dynamic—the push and pull, the way Reagan kept him tethered while he teased and prodded. It was part challenge, part affection, all tangled in their complicated history.

Leaning closer, Harry's voice dropped to a playful whisper. "You look less like a king and more like a prisoner. Funny how a little rope changes perspective, huh?"

Ben's jaw clenched, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. "You won't break me."

Harry shrugged with mock innocence. "Break you? Nah. Just here to shake things up. Besides, maybe Mal will come for you... or maybe not. Makes the game all the more interesting."

Reagan stepped forward, her tone sharp and commanding. "That's enough, Harry. Leave him be for now."

With a reluctant grin, Harry backed away, tapping his hook lightly on the bench. "Enjoy your soggy dinner, Your Highness. It'll toughen you up for what's coming."

The door slammed shut once more, leaving Ben alone with the creaks of the ship and his swirling thoughts.

He looked down at the sad plate of food, then out through the tiny barred window at the endless, dark waves of the Isle. Despite the cold, the hunger, and the uncertainty, a spark of determination flickered in his eyes. He wouldn't be held captive—not for long.