Hello! This is my Peter Pan fanfiction, which features Captain Hook's daughter, Amelia Hook. Enjoy. Also, the Tribe does not exist in my story, and Amelia is the only girl on the Isle.

Chapter One

You wouldn't believe me if I told you that I was from Neverland. Neverland, with its sickening rainbows, looming waterfalls that threaten to devour you - or the Lost Boys and Pan preferably - and of course the disgustingly green forests. You certainly wouldn't catch me hanging out with the purtid vermin and his little group of mutts. You would think that the Lost Boys worshipped Pan as a god. I had never liked the vibrant greens, the reds and yellow flowers of the forest. Plus, the mermaids were simply pests. The one time I had ventured too close the suspiciously shimmering lagoon, they had tried to pull me in with their whiny voices, and when that had failed, they attempted to shove me in.

No, I preferred pooling in the open air, suspended over perfectly cool and perfectly warm, blue waters, inhaling the calming aroma of fresh, salty water. I preffered the rocking of an old wooden ship, with no noise but the odd creaking of unseen footsteps over deck. I adored the harsh clash of silver metal hitting another sword, the cries of battle that resonated in the air. I loved living without a care. Free, the word my father had often used instead. Freedom from responsibilities, freedom from heartache, freedom from mortal problems like sickness or broken limbs.

Nonetheless, Neverland was a good home, mine for as long as I could remember.

Laden in a long red, gold button embroidered, cloak, my white, cashmere blouse and tucked under scarf, black shorts, light brown leggings and large black boots, I leapt forward, clutching an old, worn out rope and swung. I cheered loudly as I landed on deck, startling the other crew members. Kipp, a young yet stocky man, sent me a small smirk, while most others gave me a condescending look. I gave a small salute to the pirates, my own proud smirk etched on my face, before nearly jumping as my father's voice shouted out across the ship.

"Look what we have here boys!" Captain James Hook's voice roared in triumph, as he shoved a tall, slim boy forward.

He looked around my age, 16, with a wild mop of blonde hair and a long fringe. He narrowed his accusing brown eyes as he gazed whole-heartedly over the group of pirate, and a rush of silent smugness blew over me. It didn't matter if I were a girl, I was still very much a pirate as the rest of these men.

"It seems we have found ourselves a Lost Boy!" I roared, and the other pirates around me shouted in agreement.

The boy's eyes widened slightly as he laid his eyes upon me and, to be completely honest, I didn't blame him. My father had often told me I was the only girl on Neverland, after my mother of course, who had left after growing tired of Hook's delusions. He hadn't mentioned being a pirate to the maiden. When was the last time this Lost Boy had seen a girl? I knew it had been many years since the Wendy incident, father had told me, and the Lost Boys, while aging extremely slow, still aged. I sent him a lowly glare, reserved for the egotistical pirates who thought I was weaker because of my gender, and he winced, looking away. I scoffed inwardly. Coward.

"Where should we take him boys?" Hook cheeres darkly, which would have been scary for others. But, I had seen sides of him reserved for his loved ones, his content sighs, and his pure bliss glances he so desperately tried to hide when he looked at me, his daughter.

I loved the feeling. The pure, yet hidden happiness glinting in those cold brown eyes.

I was happy I had taken after my father. Waist long, wavy dark brown hair that, between you and I, was a pain to tame, and dark brown eyes that shined happily when caught in the sun. My father had told me that my mother, despite being a Siren, was awfully bad looking, rearealised after they broke up. Hook had been unaffected by the Siren's call, but had been too upset and drunk to care. Yet, other pirates onboard the Jolly Roger, before being beaten by my father, had told me that I obviously licked up the pretty side of my mother.

A low chant rang out and I eagerly joined in. The lower deck. The lower deck, locked with a chain, and where Cook would soend his days angrily preparing meals. Cook was always angry, not at the crew or his job, but perhaps for the fact that nobody could actually remember his name. Hook, smirking, shoved the boy off his knees and forced him to stand. He pointed his silver longsword's tip into the boy's back, and shuffled him forward to the trapdoor. He had come to favour that sword after I had nade it, as I did for all my weapons, for him. Hook lifted the wooden, holey trapdoor and shoved the boy down, ignoring the loud thud as he landed.

"You're a cruel, loveless monster!" the boy yelled, in a weak, tired tone, but strong nonetheless.

It was the first time he had talked since being here.

Hook, obviously resisting the urge to laugh at the naive boy, sent a lazy smile down through the thin holes of the trapdoor.

"No, kid, I'm a pirate."

"You're getting soft, Kipp!" I chuckled as I thrusted my shined alloy steel sword barely an inch past his waist.

It was one of my favourite swords I had made, one that was engraved with swirling patterns and a bone cross like on our flag. The initials A.H, for Amelia Hook, were scrawled in neat handrighting on the sword and glinted in the sunlight, a smirk making its way to my face.

Kipp raised his hands in a surrendering notion, chuckling to himself, and dropping his own silver daggers.

"It's not my fault that you seem to get better in your sleep every night."

The Jolly Roger had docked up against an old wooden platform on the far side of the forest. From where Kipp and I were sparring, we could see easily over the mermaid-filled lagoon, and into the bright forest. I turned back to my sparring partner, and outstretched my arm to shake his own. Other pirates were scurrying through the woods, or were the odd two or three who layed sprawled out across the warm sand and basked in the sun's warmth. From tbe corner of my eye, I saw my father examining us all and I sent a smile smile and wave when I caught his eye. He nodded shortly back, but there was much more behind his eyes.

As I turned back to Kipp, who was staring at me oddly, I paused. His eyes, like my father's, hid something. I had often considered dating Kipp before, but dismissed the idea. He was like a brother to me, wind touseled brown hair usually kept in a low bun and warm blue eyes, and it would be weird to. I had always beem good at reading people. I could tell ehen someone was lying, when they said they were they were alright and whether they really meant it. But before I had the chance to fully decipher the passionate emotion, a shrill shriek exploded from in the trees.

I resisted the urge to facepalm as Reid, a short and strong, yet easily scared, man stumbled out. Is face was white with fear and I snorted quietly.

"Oh no," I whispered jokingly to Kipp as everyone's attention shifted to the shrieking man, "Looks like he found another baby spider in the woods. I'm sure it would have devoured him if he stayed any longer."

Kipp snorted with laughter, trying to stifle it, but keeping it loud enough for my to hear.

But, as I turned back to Reid, I realised something. This was real fear. Not the fear you get when you find a spider or a when blood startlestartles you. This was serial killer fear.

"It's Pan!" Reid shouted in delusion, running around to each person and trying to tell them. "Pan is coming!"

As if on cue, a loud rustle came from the trees. Us pirates all turned to the noise on reflex, our hands going to our unsheathed daggers and swords. And there, in all his arrogant glory, stood Peter Pan, and his bratty slaves.