A/N: I've started a new project, though I am still working on my others! I wanted to write something for CS AU month, on Tumblr, and this is what my brain decided to do. If you know the myth of Cupid and Psyche, this will be ... familiar. It's not really meant to be a retelling or anything, just an AU loosely based off of ideas from that. I only plan for this to be five chapters at the most, so it will be a very fast-paced story, after this first chapter. I hope you all enjoy it.

One

Come away, little light
Come away to the darkness ...

The signs were weathered and worn, all bearing the same name - Ravenwater. It was a name typical to this realm of endless night. All named for the darkness, or the desperation that came with it - Blackwood. Cold Hearth. Solitude. This realm was a cursed land where no light ever shone, and all because of one.

The Queen had once been kind and beautiful, beloved by all. But her light had been stolen, when her True Love had died, and she had gone mad from grief, and turned to black magic. Wanting others to suffer as she had suffered. So she wouldn't have to be alone in her misery.

The people feared her, for she was a powerful sorceress, one who had the power to make herself young and beautiful forever; to make everything good about the world vanish, leaving nothing but this endless, aching night where no warmth could reach, where babies were born and died, knowing nothing but blackness.

But every curse - even one as powerful as Darkness - had a loophole. In this instance, the loophole was a human. A Savior, someone the Queen's court Seer had called Lux ex Tenebris - the Light in the Darkness. For decades, ever since she had enacted her curse, Regina had kept a watchful eye on her realm, through the use of her enchanted mirrors and spies throughout the world, listening for, watching for any sign that this Savior had appeared.

It was only recently that she had reason to believe ... there were disturbing reports, she had said, of a village on the edge of her kingdom, where light was sometimes seen - not candlelight or firelight. True Light. And the hint of a spark was too much to ignore.

The Queen had summoned him, the only one, she said, that she trusted with such a task. She armed him with a poison that she had crafted specifically for this purpose, it was one she had been working on ever since she'd learned that her curse could be defeated. It was the curse, again, in smaller scale. A curse to take away all Light. A curse meant to blacken the heart of the Savior.

Queen Regina had wanted no one to know who he was when she sent him to this little seaside village in the farthest reaches of her realm. He hadn't wanted to go, he grew tired of working for other people, never getting any closer to fulfilling his own goals. But she had promised him, if he would do this last task for her, she would reveal to him the secret of destroying his enemy.

He had waited too long for that. He couldn't say anything but yes.

He arrived in the village well after midnight, not that it made any difference at all. There was no way to know by the sky what the time was ... and there hadn't been for decades. He had felt uneasy, the nearer his ship had drawn to the harbor. There was something in the air here, something different than the oppressive, heavy magic that hung thick no matter where one traveled. The air had a lightness to it here ... and there was an almost sweetness to it, that he could taste on the tip of his tongue, mingling with the salt of the sea. And, perhaps most startling of all, was the fact that when he looked up, in this one little area of the world, the stars shone in the sky.

The sense of unease only grew when he finally stepped off his ship. He wrapped his heavy velvet cloak around his shoulders, pulling the hood up to keep his face obscured from view. He wasn't exactly a notorious pirate, but people knew him, Captain Jones, knew who he worked for. And he couldn't have that. He had information to gather, a task to complete. And the sooner he did, the sooner he would have his own answers.

The sooner he would be free to finish it all.

He was weary and bone-tired, chilled from the cold sea, for a land with no sun was a land with very little warmth to be found. Not that he would have felt it anyway. He was beyond that, which was precisely why the Queen had chosen him, out of all others she could have sent, to do this. He was the least tempted by the idea of finding the last of the Light. Light held no promise for him.

Nevertheless, he found himself looking up at the night sky, the tiny little pinpricks, faintly gleaming in the inky blackness. He was transfixed. In the days of old, sailors such as himself would travel, using the stars as their guides. Ever since the curse, however, concessions had been made.

They were more beautiful than any history book had ever described them, and he wondered if the Queen knew they were here. She knew there was something about this place ... but as far as it went ... well, that's why he was here.

The sounds of music and ... laughter? ... met his ears then, drawing him to what appeared to be a tavern, though it wasn't like the taverns one found in other parts of the realm. There was a roaring fire in the hearth, and it was packed with people, all talking and laughing, as though all was right in their world.

Curious ...

He pulled open the door, mindful to keep his head down. Though he wore the cloak, it was still much brighter in this tavern than any place he was used to ... and if he wanted these villagers to trust him, they couldn't know him. No one should be allowed to see his face, though it didn't stop him from scanning his eyes around the room, taking it all in, noting details that would come in handy later.

He tucked himself away into a booth in the very back corner of the room, where the shadows would obscure him from view of nearly everyone - they all seemed preoccupied as it was, no one paying one whit of attention to him. Which in and of itself was odd. Most villages reacted to strangers with a sense of caution and wariness.

One of the serving wenches came to attend him - a dark-haired beauty, as they all were. Very few people in this realm were born fair of hair, and if they were, their parents would quickly take measures to hide it. Queen Regina trusted nothing and no one and wouldn't hesitate to kill an entire family if a blond child was born to them, for the Savior was written to be fair of hair and face.

He answered the serving girl gruffly, keeping his voice low and nondescript; he was a stranger here, and would be talked about. He, again, found it passing odd that he wasn't collecting more wondering stares, but as he scanned the room, he noted, for the first time, that there were others, sitting alone as he was. Outsiders to the village.

"I suppose you've come for the festival, then?" The dark-haired girl was back, with his mug of ale and a bowl of stew to go with it, though he hadn't asked for it. "I can tell a traveler when I see one," she went on, before he could tell her of her mistake. "My grandmother and I run this inn. We always keep a big pot of stew on, because this time of year is our busiest. We get travelers from all over to see the stars. They seem to shine brightest, right about this time every year, for some reason. And well ... it's ... something to look forward to, at least. Gods know there isn't much in this place." She smiled sadly, then shrugged, eyes casting over his cloak. "If you're chilled, I'll throw another log on the fire ... "

"That won't be necessary," he responded, just as lowly as before. He curled his hand around the mug of ale, drawing it closer and taking a long pull from it. It was good, that same sort of sweetness he'd tasted in the air outside, lingering on his tongue afterward. His brow furrowed.

This place was strange indeed.

Apparently sensing that he wasn't one for conversation, the girl left, to attend to the other patrons, and he was grateful for the solitude, once again. It would be much harder to keep a low profile here, with so many travelers from so many parts of the realm. It would be very easy to run into someone who would recognize him.

Despite himself, he took a bite of the stew, only to realize how completely famished he was. It too was delicious, it too had that strange - not unpleasant - sort of taste to it. It was as though whatever it was that was in this village, whatever made the stars shine here, whatever warmed the air outside, whatever made the people here smile ... made everything just that little bit better.

He found himself watching the people in the tavern - they were not like people in other villages. They laughed, for one thing, which no one else dared to do. It was as though they had no fear of the Queen's repercussions here, but it made no sense to him. Everybody feared the Queen. He'd seen firsthand what it was she was capable of doing to people who displeased her. Why didn't these people seem more aware of that?

"Gods, I hate this time of year."

A quiet voice pulled his attention away from the revelry of the other patrons. Sitting across from him in the booth, there was a woman, though he couldn't see anything about her, for she too, was wearing a cloak. Hers was emerald green, embroidered with tiny silver butterflies along its edges, and it obscured her from his view completely. He hadn't even heard her sit down, hadn't heard her approach at all.

"The seat's taken," he muttered, taking another drink from his mug, keeping his own head down.

"No, it's not," the woman retorted. "You came in alone, you've been sitting here alone for the past hour, just watching from under your cloak. Very low-profile, might I add." He couldn't help it, his lips twitched at the sarcasm he could hear in the woman's voice, and was about to speak again, but her next words took him aback. "I take it you've never been to Shimmersea before?"

Beneath his cloak, he arched a brow. "Come again?" he asked.

"Ravenwater, I mean," she quickly corrected. "The stupid villagers ... they've renamed it, because of the damned stars." He could hear the exasperation in her voice.

"You live here?"

"Unfortunately." She sighed heavily, adjusting the hood on her cloak. He thought he saw ... but no. He had to be imagining it. It was just a flicker of firelight, catching off the fabric of her cloak. "Where are you from?"

"Oh, all over," he said, though he didn't know why he was engaging in conversation with this mysterious creature at all.

"Sounds nice," she said, and he could hear the wistful pang in her voice. "I've never been anywhere but here."

"Here's not so bad," he conceded. "Damn sight better than some of the other places I've been."

"I suppose they all look the same anyway," the woman responded glumly. "And I guess the stars don't shine anywhere else."

"This is the first time I've ever seen them," he admitted then. "And why is it you've never left?" He didn't know why he was asking. He didn't know why he cared. He was supposed to be keeping an eye on this strange little village, looking for the Savior, not chatting with some cloaked woman in a tavern. Not that he was against it. He just normally liked to see a woman's face before he ...

"It's loud in here," she said, interjecting her voice into his thoughts, and he knew she was deliberately avoiding answering her. In fact, she was already sliding out of the booth. He couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. She'd been an amusing diversion ... though he supposed he knew better.

Instead of walking away once she stood up - she was tall, he noted, but not too tall - she turned her head, speaking to him over her shoulder. "Are you coming?"

He hadn't expected that at all. He stood up, dropping some coins onto the table to pay for his food, and followed the emerald-cloaked form of the woman out into the quiet, dark of the night. He had no idea what was possessing him, all he knew was that not following her would be the bigger mistake.

As soon as they were outside, he cast his eyes back out over the water. Suddenly, he could see why the villagers had renamed it. The starlight over the water gave it a glimmering, almost unreal appearance. How was it the Queen didn't know of this? Surely she'd sent others here ...

It was then that he felt the bite of a cool blade at his throat, and when he looked down, his breath caught in his throat, though it had nothing to do with the knife she wielded. The hood of her cloak was pushed back, and he could see now, what he'd thought he'd glimpsed before, in the tavern.

Golden hair, a tumble of it, curls cascading down her back against the green of her cloak. Her eyes were snapping, and even in the pale light of the stars, he could see that they were stormy like the sea. She had the most beautiful face he'd ever seen, the kind of beautiful that made him ache to look upon.

Fair of hair and fair of face
Born of Light, the curse shall break

"Every year, without fail, someone like you comes when the stars do." She pressed the tip of the knife into his throat again, and he swallowed thickly. The tavern wench ... he knew now. The whole thing had been a ruse, to keep him there long enough for her to summon ...

The Savior.

There was no doubt about it, this was the one. He knew that it had been all the sights and smells and sounds inside the tavern, making it harder to sense before, but the air around them now was sweet, that same sweetness he'd tasted on his lips when he'd first arrived, and again inside the tavern briefly ... it was her. He knew, were he to bury his face in those glorious golden tresses, it would engulf him, it would swallow him whole, and he would allow it, gladly.

She was beautiful, and she was brave, and she had no idea the power she wielded. None. He could see that plainly, all over her face. She had no clue that she was the one who could end this neverending night.

The Queen had sent others. And this woman had dispatched of them all. Granted, the others had not been armed the way he was armed, for Regina had not perfected the poison until recently, but the thought of using that against this woman sickened him. It all sickened him.

This woman made the stars appear, and she filled the air with sweetness, unlike anything he'd ever known. He hadn't known what he'd been expecting to find, when he'd been sent for the Savior ... but it certainly wasn't this.

And he'd die before he'd kill this hope, hope not only for all of the realm, but for himself too. What he was going to do would get him killed, one way or the other. But there was no other choice. And he was damned either way. Why not do something right, for once in his life, before it all ended?

"You really don't know who you are?" he asked her, his tone both incredulous and wary, for she still held the blade to his throat, and he didn't doubt for a second she'd use it.

"Of course I know who I am," the woman retorted coolly, though he heard the waver in her voice. Whoever had kept her in this town had kept her completely in the dark - so to speak - about what she was. There was no way they didn't know. This town protected her, and she didn't even know why.

"Do you really?" he asked, his voice low.

"I ... "

He could feel the bite of the knife lessening at his throat. He reached up with his hand then, closing it around her wrist that held the knife, pushing it back gently, though he didn't let go of her hand. Her skin was soft beneath his fingertips, and it made him burn in a way he hadn't in a very long time. He leaned in close, once the blade was no longer between them. He knew she couldn't see him, not with his cloak still obstructing his face, and it was better that way. He could do this, he could keep her safe, and she'd never really have to know him.

Better for everyone.

"I can keep you safe," he breathed lowly, his face very near to hers. He heard her sharp intake of breath, and part of him couldn't help but feel a faint sense of smug satisfaction. "But if you stay here, she will kill every man, woman, and child in this village to find you. If you come with me now, they can honestly say they don't know where you've gone. And the only people in danger then will be you and me, and I will not let her hurt you."

"What ... what are you talking about?" she breathed, though he noted that she didn't step away from him. He could feel her pulse rushing underneath the fingers he still had wrapped around her wrist.

"I'm talking about keeping you bloody safe so you can do the job you're meant to do," he hissed, and it was nearly impossible to resist closing those scant inches between their lips, but somehow, he managed.

She swallowed thickly. "It's true then ... " Her eyes closed and he could see the faintest glimmer of tears on her lashes. "It's me."

"Aye, lass, it's you." He stepped back then, knowing that if he didn't, the temptation would prove too strong. His hand released her wrist, needing to break all contact if he was going to maintain his faculties here. "And now you've a choice to make. I will keep you safe. I'll help you, if it's in my power to do so. But you have to make a decision now, because once she catches wind of this, and that will be soon, love, she will chase us to the ends of this world, and I'd rather we have a head start."

She was looking over her shoulder, at the lights of the tavern, and he could almost feel the uncertainty coming off of her in waves. "And I'm just expected to trust you? What if you're leading me right to her? It's why you came here in the first place, isn't it?"

There was no time for these arguments, Regina would know, within moments, that she'd been betrayed, and if they weren't well out to sea before then, there would be no escaping. He couldn't waste time with niceties or excuses or pretty lines. It had to be truth, truth that she would believe.

"I came at the behest of the Queen," he admitted to her, his hand back on her wrist. She looked back at him. "Because she promised me to help sate my revenge for a wrong committed long ago." He pulled her closer to him then. "But I saw the stars when I got here, and I realized what it was I was working to kill. You are safe with me, I swear it to you, but neither of us are safe if we don't leave right now."

There was the briefest flicker of uncertainty behind her eyes. "I have a poison," he said then, a hint of desperation in his tone. They didn't have time for this, either she was coming willingly, or he'd take her, but either way, the Queen wasn't touching this one. "It's meant to blacken your heart." He reached into his cloak, pulling out the vial. He dropped it onto the ground, and it shattered. "You're free to search me if you like, but for the love you bear the people of this village, don't make me have to steal you from here."

Her eyes flickered up, widening a bit then. "You would do that?" she whispered.

"If it meant saving you and everything you stand for from the Queen, yes," he told her firmly.

"I'll go," she said without hesitation then, her mind made up. He wanted to know what it was he had said that got to her, but there wasn't time. "I'll go with you."

There was an icy wind picking up, one that Killian knew meant that the wrath of the Queen wasn't far behind, but it didn't matter now. He had the Light, and he was taking her someplace the Queen could not touch her. She'd been wrong to send him, he'd been wrong about himself.

He'd been in darkness for so long, that catching a glimpse of the sunlight had all but blinded him. And he wanted to keep it, no matter what it cost him in doing so.