17/04/07

Title: The Care and Feeding of Flying Boys

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Fourteen – Sleeping with the Enemy

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Authors note: despite what happens in this chapter, this is not and never will be a Hook/Wendy romance.

So don't bother flaming me for what goes on. There's a point and purpose in all this, I promise.

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Wendy watched the last of the glorious sunset fade, the water glittering strangely in the half light of the dusk. The ocean was flat calm, the occasional swell heaving the ship gently up and down as she lay at anchor off the coast of Neverland, her sails furled for the night. Getting to her feet, Wendy turned from the window and paced the cabin, her fingers trailing over the richly appointed furniture with it's velvet coverings and intricate carvings. Ornately decorated lanterns swung lazily overhead, their candles not yet alight, the cabin shadowed and gloomy now that the sun had gone for the day and night loomed. It had been a strange day for Wendy, her shock at finding herself laying on a comfortable bed when she distinctly remembered falling asleep on a sandy beach under a palm tree. If that wasn't bad enough, she found she was now captive of the dread pirate Hook, who's very name was a byword for cruelty and foul deeds, if what she'd been told was to be believed. Instead she found a man of a similar age to her father, even in looks James Hook bore a remarkable resemblance to George Darling, his hair the same Raven black, although Wendy had to smile to herself when she imagined her upright and reserved father dressed in pirate clothes and smoking a cigar. Her father was always a picture of immaculate suiting, neat as a pin, his hair smoothed back so that no wayward curl could escape. To picture him aboard the Jolly Roger was to bring on a fit of the giggles. Temporarily amused, Wendy circled the cabin, bringing her at last to a writing desk, prettily inlaid with mother-of-pearl and ivory. Not really expecting to find anything, she lit a candle then pulled open one of the drawers beneath the desk surface, the small ivory carved knob yielding easily. Inside were a number of vellum covered books stacked neatly within the confines of the drawer. Wendy lifted one out and flipped it open, the pages densely packed with a flowing black script, an occasional illustration breaking up the words. It appeared to be a daily journal, a reference written at the start of each entry, but only the date and date, no year or month given to pinpoint their age or how recent. Puzzled at such an enigmatic way of keeping information, Wendy flipped the pages until an illustration leapt off the page at her. It was an ink drawing or the Cave of dreams. She recognized the rock formation and the gaping entrance. Beside the drawing was a small, thumbnail map of it's location. Intrigued, Wendy started to read the entry associated with the image.

'Wednesday 25th

In our never ending hunt to find Peter Pan and his illusive hideout, we climbed a peak that led us to this cave. It appeared to be of natural origins so we entered to explore. Inside the walls were covered in drawings depicting people dancing and cavorting, the images so bright and accurately rendered they appeared to move by their own accord. My men were uneasy and several stayed outside on guard. Myself and two others ventured in, almost immediately encountering a creature that looks very much like Chief Talagumpa, although that said it was clearly not him. He called himself Walbassa and invited us to explore further. I felt a great rushing in my head as if a wind was trapped in my skull. When I came too I was alone, my two men gone and with them the old Indian man. When I staggered outside the others said I had only been gone a few seconds, but it seemed like hours, even days to me. I didn't wait to see if the men were returned or if Walbassa would appear again, but returned in haste to our camp below, thence back to the ship. There is much trickery in Neverland, and not all of it benign or to ones benefit. I will steer clear of that cave and warn my men to do so.'

Wendy looked again at the drawing of the Cave of Dreams and felt a shudder go through her. Turning the page she found a postscript.

'Today we learnt the fate of the two crewman that were lost in the cave we visited so many months ago. It appears they were reborn as Lost Boys, damn this infernal place. Cribs and Turner had been good crewman, now they are working for the enemy. We wouldn't have recognized them if not for Cribs very distinctive hair and Turner's odd colored eyes when we engaged Pan and his motley boys in an ambush. Neither former pirate seemed to recognize his shipmates and yelled as blood-bloodcurdling as their rag-tag fellows when they sprang out of the undergrowth. The infernal brat had the cheek to strip me of my hat for the third time and strut along the path, goading me and my men. I called the two boys, my former crew, by name but they only jeered at me and made rude gestures, reminiscent of their past lives more than their current. It would seem that the cave at the top of the ridge, and that trickster Walbassa are to be avoided at all costs or suffer the same fate as Cribs and Turner.'

"Do my scribblings amuse you?" A deep voice asked. Wendy jumped and shut the journal with a snap. Hook stood a few paces away, his head tilted to one side, a dark eyebrow raised in inquiry.

"Oh...ah...I didn't mean to be nosy. I...er...I was bored and found these...your journals."

"And what think you of them?"

"They make for interesting reading," Wendy replied, placing the journal back in the drawer and closing it quickly. "I was just reading about your encounter with Walbassa and the Cave of Dreams."

"What do you know about that?" Hook asked sharply, pushing Wendy to the side and producing a key from his pocket with which he locked the drawer, preventing further investigation.

"I know that the paintings come alive on the walls, that they lead you further into the cave."

"How is it you came to be there, Wendy Darling?"

"I don't...recall."

"Oh I think you do...a great deal more than you've related so far. My men found you on a beach, curled up like a kitten in the sand. So asleep that you didn't stir when my men transported you here, to me. But where, and this is the question, did you come from before that? My men traced what tracks they could find, and they said that it would seem you appeared on that beach without setting foot out of the jungle or the sea."

"Maybe I flew," Wendy offered, her eyes darting around the shadowed cabin as if looking for an escape. Hook noted her unease and smiled to himself.

"Oh, I don't think so. I think you were in Walbassa's clutches and he decided to have some fun and put you in the way of me. Now what, do you think, he intended by that?"

"I really have no idea," Wendy edged her way around the desk to put it between her and Captain Hook. Unlike her father, this man exuded menace with every twitch of his waxed mustache. It both terrified and thrilled her, the pirates' flashing pale blue eyes almost mesmerizing her with their intensity.

"I begin to wonder what part you have to play in our little games," Hook mused. "I thought you were a means for us to leave this cursed island, but I find that has less and less appeal, the longer I know you." Grinning wickedly, Hook moved with the speed of a snake and snagged Wendy's wrist, pulling the reluctant girl hard up against his body. "I wonder if having you dropped into my lap, so to speak, wasn't a cunning plot to lure the Pan to his doom at last." Hook held the girl effortlessly as she struggled, his hook coming up and tangling in her hair, stilling her movement and causing tears of pain to spring to her eyes as he pulled on her scalp. "Me thinks that all this is just part of a larger plot that I'm not privy too. There are forces at play here that seem to think that Hook can be used as a cats paw, with you as the Judas goat to lure the prey, then me taking the blame."

Held as she was against Hook's chest, Wendy could only grit her teeth and will the tears away, the pull on her scalp tilting her head back so that she looked up at him with wide eyes, her lips pulled back from her teeth in a grimace.

Hook stared down at her, his eyes taking on a glint of red. The girl truly feared him at last, the feeling giving him a heady rush. She was his to do with as he pleased, helpless and friendless, her fate in his hands. "Am I living up to your expectations now, Wendy Darling?"

"Entirely," Wendy managed to say, before she closed her eyes to blot out the features so close to her own.

"Look at me," Hook growled, his eyes now glowing like twin flames, "I don't want you to pretend to yourself that it is Peter, not me..." He yanked her head back, stretching her neck and making her gasp, her eyes opening a second before he struck, his mouth closing over hers in a kiss that contained no sentiment or affection, only subjugation and a ruthless demand for compliance. It was so far removed from the sweetness she'd shared with Peter that for a moment she remained too stunned to react, Hook's teeth clashing against her own as his lips ground hers into submission. Then anger rushed in and she started to fight, her free hand finding his rich, dark hair and yanking it repeatedly, her bare feet kicking at his legs before stamping down as hard as she could on his booted instep. For Wendy the kiss seemed interminable, her chest straining for air before Hook released her, the red gleam fading from his eyes as he panted, his hot breath bathing her face which was now scarlet with mortification.

"I could never imagine that was anything other than the unwanted attentions of a pirate!" Wendy spat, turning her face to the side when Hook leaned forward again. His lips found her cheek, resting there like a hot brand.

"Me thinks you are more of a pirate than you'd like anyone to know, Miss Darling. Should we put it to the test?"

"No!" In a desperate bid for freedom, Wendy wriggled out of his grasp, tripping on her skirts to sprawl panting at his feet. "Don't touch me!"

As if tired of the game, Hook sauntered over to his chair and sat down, one leg hooked over the arm as he stared at his captive, a leer playing about his mouth.

"Such melodrama over a simple kiss. You'd do well on the stage, m'dear."

"You're a brute...and a cad!" Wendy sobbed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, repeatedly.

"I'm a pirate and a man. You'd do well to remember both."

"You are everything Peter said you were."

"I grow bored with your childish histrionics. Be silent, or be gagged...the choice is yours." Smothering a yawn behind his hand, Hook got languidly to his feet, ignoring the girl still crouched on the floor. He walked over to the cabin door and called for Smee to attend him. When the portly man arrived he was directed to light the lamps and prepare the evening meal, Hook sending him on his way with a boot against his backside as further incentive. Wendy had risen to her feet and now stood as far from Hook as she could get. Her lips still tingled from their contact with his hard mouth, and her heart still pattered like a bird caught in a cage. Hook's kiss had truly frightened her in a way that Peter's had never done. With him, she felt cherished and loved and desired, all heady emotions but none of them threatening. Hook made her feel scared, both of the power he seemed to wield over her, and her own reaction to that power. For all her tender years, she was not unaware that men like Hook existed in her world as well. Rakes and libertines were as much a threat to a young girl of good quality, as ever a highwayman or footpad. Dangerously attractive men had a way of seducing and overpowering the senses, leading to the downfall and ruin of debutante's and married women alike. Hook was one of that ilk, an attractive man with power and the knowledge of how to use it. How else had he managed to remain Captain for so long? Oh no, she knew what he was, and she knew the danger now to herself. Combine a rake with a pirate and you had a man with no scruples about age or innocence. He would take what he wanted, and God help his victim. Now that she knew what manner of man she was dealing with, Wendy felt a measure of calm steal over her. For whatever reason, Peter didn't know where she was, or who she was with. That meant she would have to either rescue herself, or give Peter the time he needed to find her and rescue her. Either way, she would have to keep Captain Hook at bay for as long as possible. His kiss had not been romantic, hardly even pleasurable, so she supposed it had been merely a means to show her his power over her. He had succeeded, and in doing so firmed her resolve to stay not one minute longer than she had to aboard the pirate ship. Escape was her only clear course. Smoothing back her disordered hair, Wendy shook out her skirts and made her way to the window seat. The light from the lanterns barely reaching where she sat, her very stillness making her all but invisible. Hook appeared engrossed in reading charts, the rolled parchments strewn over the big table and on the floor, their owner using his hook to follow the lines and markings detailed on their surface.

Smee returned bearing a tray and one other sailor to help, the meal obviously not as lavish as the one set before Wendy earlier in the day. For that she was thankful, her nerves too tightly wound to allow her much more than the most basic interest in eating. Hook also seemed to have little appetite, waving his manservant's away and only taking the smallest portion of fish pie onto his dish, still absorbed by the charts spread before him. Only once did he look up, his head turning as he sought her in the shadows.

"Come and eat," he ordered, frowning at her where she sat. "Don't sit there sulking."

"I'm not sulking," Wendy retorted, walking slowly over to the table and taking a share of the meal. "I was just thinking."

Hook snorted. "Plotting to escape more like...or have you thought more about my offer to become a pirate?"

"Neither...my thoughts are my own."

Taking her plate, she returned to the window seat and ate in silence. Hook returned to his charts, ignoring her in his turn. An hour slipped by before Smee returned to collect the dinner things.

"May I go on deck for some fresh air?" Wendy asked, Smee jumping at the apparently disembodied voice coming from the back of the cabin. Hook turned his head and watched her progress across the deck to where he sat.

"Why should I allow it?"

"Because I ask it...and because I am no good to you sick for lack of exercise and fresh air."

"Me thinks you are up to something, but we are too far away for your flying lover to find," Hook pushed himself out of his chair. "A walk will do me good as well...after you, m'dear." He waved her forward, Smee hurriedly holding the cabin door wide for the captive and his Captain to pass through. They passed through another door and then they were on the deck, Wendy pausing to draw in a deep breath of cool night air. A step behind, Hook watched his prisoner closely, seeing nothing untoward in her manner or behavior, all of which made him mistrust her even more. Wendy allowed him to hand her down the short stairs to the main deck, crewman busy about their business giving their Captain a wide berth as they passed. The night was clear and a billion stars shone down on the sea, making it sparkle. The dark bulk of Neverland lay off to leeward, the tall spire of the volcano outlined by stars so densely packed they appeared like a crown over the summit. For several minutes Wendy and her companion strolled around the perimeter of the main deck, Hook a step behind her, his eyes checking the skies and sea for any hint of a rescue attempt. Despite his assertion that they were too far away from anyone to be noticed, it was impossible to exist in Neverland without someone, or something noting your passing. It was quite probable that the mermaids were already privy to where the Jolly Roger was anchored, and could even know about Hook's prisoner. It only needed for Peter Pan to quiz one of the watery brethren to know where his Wendy was being held. For that reason, Hook had doubled the night watch and made the shifts shorter than normal to keep everyone awake and alert.

Wendy had stopped and was leaning on the railing, looking over the side of the ship to the sea lapping below.

"You'd drown before you'd gone fifty yards," Hook observed.

"Thank you for that salient reminder," Wendy retorted, "I have no ambitions to drown myself."

"I suppose you think that Peter will fly down out of the sky and scoop you up," Hook sneered, making swooping motions with his good hand. "I should warn you, I am prepared for just such an eventuality."

"Again, you suppose wrongly. I hope Peter doesn't come for me, I hope he stays well away."

"What?! You don't want to be rescued?"

"Not is it puts Peter, or any of the Lost Boys or Indians within your reach." Wendy kept her face turned away. "I don't want my rescue to be the end of someone else's life."

"How very noble of you," Hook spat, "you and that puling whelp make a good pair!"

"That's the nicest thing you've said to me so far, Captain Hook."

"What?! No...I didn't mean it as a compliment."

"Oh I'm sure you didn't, but it was. You see, before you picked me up, I was still undecided as to whether I would stay here, in Neverland, with Peter. You said in your journal that Walbassa was a trickster, and I think he was doing just that in the Cave of Dreams."

Intrigued despite himself, Hook leant of the rail so that he could see the girls profile. "How?"

"He showed me a series of different dreams...well, nightmares really. Of choices I could make, of futures that could happen, or might happen, I couldn't figure that out. Anyway...what it comes down to is this, I have a choice...I can stay here, in Neverland, and be or do whatever my destiny expects."

"Or?" Hook prompted.

"Or go back to my world and forget everything I've seen and experienced. Go back to my family, to a marriage to some earnest and eligible young man and spend my life wondering what could have been."

Wendy paused, closing her eyes while a smile played around her lips, her hair blown back by the strengthening wind.

"Or I could keep you my prisoner and never let you go anywhere," Hook hissed, unaccountably incensed by her seemingly calm exterior.

"You can try."

Thoroughly enraged by her misplaced confidence, Hook grabbed her by the arm and hauled her across the deck, the crew scattering before him. Slamming the door of his cabin open, Hook surprised Smee taking a swig from a grog bottle.

"GET OUT!"

Smee dropped the bottle, which rolled across the floor, before running for his life past his Captain and out the door. Hook booted it closed behind him before hauling Wendy across the cabin and throwing her on the floor beside the bed. While Wendy sat there rubbing her bruised arm, Hook produced a set of shackles from under the bed, the chain secured to a ring set into the wall. Pushing up Wendy's skirts, Hook snapped one metal cuff about her ankle, Wendy beating at him with her fists until he caught one and placed it in another shackle, leaving one of her hands and feet free from constraint. Then he stood back and watched as she tried to push the metal off her wrist, tears of frustration making her eyes bright in the lamp light.

"You devil...get these off me!"

"Ah no, fair Wendy, I think I'll keep those bracelets right and tight for the time being. I'd hate to think of you wandering around the ship when I'm asleep, putting yourself in danger from my rough and ready crew. They would have little pity for your age or your sex if they got their hands on you, that I can assure you."

"You are no better...just as much a pirate as any of them."

"Never doubt it m'dear. A pirate through and through." Hook jeered, laughing at Wendy when she scowled ferociously up at him. "I've a mind to put those lips to good use again..." He saw fear leap into her eyes, her shoulders hitting the hard planking of the wall as she scooted backwards. Sheer exhilaration filled him, a fierce joy that he could evoke such terror in a living creature. Deciding to put words into action, he reached down and hauled her once more to her feet, the chains about her wrist and ankles chinking as they clashed together. This time he pushed her up against the wall before lowering his face to hers. Again he used his hook to ensnare her long hair and arch her neck, exposing the tender skin to his assault and her mouth for his pleasure. This time he didn't ravage and plunder, instead engulfing her lips in a kiss employing all his wicked wiles so that Wendy, expecting pain and degradation, found herself almost swooning as the kiss went on and on. Hook employed every strategy he knew to evoke a response from his most unwilling partner. In the end the need to breath pushed them apart, Wendy gulping in sweet air, her eyes wide and bewildered as Hook stepped back from her, his fingers coming up to smooth his mustache while he smiled triumphantly down at her.

"Why did you do that?" Wendy asked, her body trembling in reaction. "What point was there to make?"

"Why only that you are merely a silly girl who thinks herself in love with a callow youth. I thought you should know what it's like to be kissed by a real man."

Wendy felt close to tears, upset by her own reaction, thoroughly cross with herself for reacting at all.

"You are a horrid, horrid man, and I hope Peter guts you."

Hook only laughed, turning his back on her and returning to the table to find something to drink. Wendy watched him but soon tired of this, sinking to the floor and folding her legs under her skirt, weary beyond belief. Hook carried on about his business as if she didn't exist, Wendy finding that the events of the day were catching up with her and making her eyes droop shut in tiredness. Eventually she couldn't stay awake. Snagging a pillow off the bed, she curled up on the floor and tried to sleep, the manacles on her wrist and ankle making it difficult to find a comfortable position. In the end exhaustion won out and she slept. Hook, checking up on her later, found her with one hand pillowing her cheek like a child, the other sitting anchored to the floor by the weight of the iron cuff holding her prisoner. Without examining his motives too closely, he pulled the coverlet off the bed and draped it over her. After securing the windows and checking the door, Hook snuffed the lanterns, leaving only one candle burning beside the bed. Not bothering to get undressed, he lay down on his bed and closed his eyes, his good arm flung over his face to shut out the candlelight. On the floor beside him he could hear Wendy's soft breathing, the sound as unsettling as it was comforting. It was going to be a long time before he slept.

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