Well, thank you all for the beautiful reviews! My ego is so fluffy and happy when you guys pet it.
Here's the next exciting chapter. Huzzah!
Song: About a Girl
Artist: The Academy Is...
Wendy shuffled her feet, nervous as the pirates lined up with tin bowls and spoons. Her knowledge of oatmeal making was vast (she did have two little brothers), and the crew seemed highly appreciative of her efforts. But she was still edgy at being stuck on a ship with forty or so tattooed-and-pierced men. She was more than just edgy and nervous; Wendy was absolutely terrified and horribly alone. The only times Hook made contact with her were to tease her about being stuck on the ship. She wondered how his mother had put up with him as a child, because he must have been a little brat. He just never grew out of it, she surmised.
When the pirates had finished their breakfast and placed their bowls, spoons, and cups in a large washbasin, Wendy got to work on cleaning up. She washed the vat of dishes and scrubbed the cast-iron kettle with saltwater and steel wool, drying it well so it wouldn't rust. "Very good job, my dear," came the silky smooth voice from behind her.
"Wow, your voice is almost as oily as your hair this morning, Captain," Wendy snorted without turning around.
"That's no way to treat your rescuer, is it?" came another voice completely. Wendy spun on her heel, ponytail flying out behind her like a banner.
"Peter!" she cried, leaping into his arms. Peter smiled into her hair, breathing in the coconut-and-strawberry scent of it. She laid her head on his shoulder and nuzzled into his neck, her words muffled. "I forgot you could imitate him so perfectly."
"Well it's one of the few talents I still seem to have," Peter said. Wendy laughed.
"The problem is finding a talent you don't have, Peter Pan," she admonished playfully. "But how do you think you're going to get me out of here?"
"Actually I have no clue, I just had to see you and make sure you were alright. The Lost Boys and I are still kind of working on the whole breaking-the-curse-fulfilling-the-vow thing," Peter admitted, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Wendy took the chance to look him over.
"Nice costume," she blushed. Peter turned a shade of light pink too.
"It's not a costume, these are my old clothes."
"I remember them fondly. But what was the vow you were talking about?" Wendy asked, pulling Peter away from the galley door and towards the pot she was cleaning. No one came into the galley except Cookson or Bill Jukes, and they were on look-out rotation this morning.
"I took the vow of Pan. I swore to the spirit of Neverland that I would get you back from Hook," Peter explained. "And the vow of Pan is stronger than any law the stupid fairies can cook up."
"Know what I've cooked up?" Wendy asked. Peter cocked his head to the side.
"What?"
"Over four hundred pounds of oatmeal," Wendy huffed, kneeling and resuming her cleaning duties. "I've been on galley duty for the past two days. I can't feel my hands and these men eat like animals. I have to do dishes for forty or so men every day, two meals."
"Wendy...I..." Peter merely trailed off, scratching his head again.
"I know, Peter," she sighed.
"It's all my fault. If I hadn't been so irresponsible and proud you wouldn't be in this situation, Wendy. If I had been able to admit my stupidity back then, you would be safely in the Home Underground right now, telling us a story or sewing or something," Peter ranted, tugging at his long hair. "But no, I had to mess with the fairies and they decided to take it out on you instead and I'm so, so sorry!"
"Peter, if you hadn't have done those things, we would still be eleven and twelve years old and you would never have admitted to yourself that you could feel love for another person. I probably would have gone home and grown up and had my heart broken by the mere thought of you," Wendy said, cupping the side of his warm face in her hand. He leaned into the touch, reaching up and covering the hand with his own, holding it to his face.
"Wendy, I love you so much," he admitted, his eyes boring into hers.
"I love you too, Peter," Wendy smiled gently, "To the moon and back."
"And then the Cap'n says we gots to shoot them! 'Member that, Billy?" a boisterous voice inquired. People were coming down to the galley.
"Go!" Wendy whispered, kissing Peter quickly and pushing him away. He stood on the opposite side of the doorway and when Cookson and Bill Jukes entered and turned directly to face Wendy, slipped out the door behind them.
"Hey, girly, how're the dishes going?" Jukes asked. Wendy rolled her eyes. Bill Jukes, one of the younger pirates (despite being completely covered in tattoos), had been hitting on her from the moment she came aboard.
"Just fine for not having any help," Wendy answered brusquely.
"I can help if you want," Cookson offered, knowing that she was almost completely finished.
"No. I'm quite fine without your incompetent company, thank you," Wendy sniffed.
"I think she just insulted me," Cookson exclaimed.
"No, not at all," replied Wendy, her voice saturated with sarcasm. A deep laugh came from the doorway and all three of them turned to see the Captain lurking in the shadows.
"I think Wendy's had enough fun harassing you two. Get lost, scugs," Hook ordered. Cookson and Jukes disappeared, headed back up to the deck.
"Have you learned your lesson?" Hook asked. He grinned maliciously down at Wendy, who merely smiled sweetly in return.
"I have cleaned every dish in this damned kitchen at least four times, I don't know if I can learn much more."
"Good, follow me," the Captain demanded. Wendy followed him back up the rickety wooden staircase and onto the foredeck, squinting in the bright mid-morning sunlight. She was glad she had learned to walk on the tilting ship, not falling a single time as she made her way to Hook's cabin.
"What do you want, Captain?" she asked, crossing her arms angrily in front of her chest.
"I just need some things fixed, and Smee's skills are just not sufficient," Hook explained, bringing forth three silk shirts of fine quality. Each one bore miniscule rips and tears, most likely from his hook or getting caught on ragged pieces of wood.
"Well those aren't going to take long," Wendy mused, examining each one and sitting down on a nearby stool to begin her task. "But I'm going to need silk thread and a needle."
"Here you go, my dear," Hook said, proffering the supplies. Wendy took them and got to work, glad for the distraction. She wondered, as she stitched the first hole slowly closed, what had happened to Kelsey.
Kelsey had run off after being refused her marriage to Peter and found shelter in the woods. She curled up at the base of a large tree and cried for an hour or so, thinking about the loss of her potential husband. It was after several hours of sitting there feeling lost and pathetic that Kelsey decided that she'd had enough of Neverland. She stood on shaky legs and began to move through the forest, glad for the flowing skirt that covered her legs from plants. It tore in several places on branches and brambles, but she was very grateful for the cloth itself.
She pushed through the woods, collecting scratches and scrapes on her way through. When she finally made it out of the woods and onto the shore of a small lake, she collapsed near the water and simply breathed, trying to think of her next move. She took a quick survey of herself. The hem of her beautiful wedding gown was dirty and ripped, along with several places on the skirt. Her hair was a tangled mess and her hands and arms were covered in scratches. Her hands especially, which were also covered in sap from pulling tree branches aside as she moved.
Better wash it off before they all get infected, she thought, hiking up her skirt and wading into the shallows of the water.
From a few meters away, a young merman watched her with a curious gaze. He'd never seen a creature like her before. Sure, he knew what humans were because the Lost Boys had harassed him often enough, but never such an exquisite human like her. He poked his head out of the water and swam closer. "Hello."
"Ahh!" Kelsey screamed, stepping back and slipping, falling into the water. "Oh gosh. Oh damn. Now what?"
"I'm...I'm sorry," the merman spoke up quietly, "I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's fine," Kelsey huffed, wringing out her skirt with her now-clean hands. "And what are you?"
"What do you mean?" the merman asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well everyone on this God-forsaken island has some kind of special talent or is some sort of mythical creature. So what are you? A sprite?"
"No, of course not," he laughed, raising his tail out of the water to show her, "I'm a merperson."
"That's dandy," Kelsey said, still trying to get the water out of her dress. Loose, damp curls were falling out of the bun on top of her head and she blew them out of her face in frustration.
"You're beautiful," the man spoke, "What's your name?"
"I-" Kelsey was taken aback. She let herself relax and she smiled, "My name is Kelsey."
"That's a pretty name. My name is Ciel," the merman introduce. Kelsey beamed at him.
"It's nice to meet you, Ciel." And she didn't hate Neverland quite as much anymore.
