Chapter 12:
It took nearly three days to get Tala to leave the comfort of the shore. Hook found her sleeping in his cabin aboard an empty Jolly Roger, curled up on the pile of blankets on the floor that once served as her only bed. Now, she had a choice, yet she chose to sleep there again.
After some convincing, Tala finally followed Hook further inland. He told her to stay by his side, to follow him while he completed his daily errands. Hook hoped that if he escorted her around the small village, she mind feel a little more comfortable and familiar with the territory. She couldn'thide away on an empty ship forever, after all.
Tala was anxious as she was lead around town, especially when they went into crowded places. Her camp was less noisy, and there was much more fresh air to fill her lungs. These buildings were more closed in and much stuffier than her tent back home.
No place was as noisy and stuff than the town tavern.
From the moment Tala followed Hook through the loosely attached wooden door, she was bombarded with gravelly laughter and shouting. A glass broke somewhere in the room, causing her to tense all over. Her instincts were on high alert, ready to kick in at even the smallest sign of a threat. Her sharpened ivory dagger was hanging in a makeshift holster at her hip.
Some of the noisy men, who had previously been pounding down rum one tankard at a time, stopped to stare the moment Tala came through the door. Hook had been worried about the attention she might draw in a place like the tavern, especially with such revealing little slips of fur serving as her only means of coverage.
He walked her past all of the tables, straight to the bar at the back of the room. Hook pulled up one of the wooden stools and pointed at it.
"Sit."
"I am not a dog," Tala frowned up at him.
"I'm well aware of that. My eyes do still work," Hook grumbled in annoyance. "But I do have some business to attend to with a friend of mine in the back room. She's not very trusting of strangers, and she especially won't trust the likes of you. So sit and wait for me here."
Tala let out a defeated sigh, then climbed up to sit on the wooden stool like he asked her to. She leaned forwards against the bar top, then folded her arms and dropped her chin onto them. Hook almost cracked a grin at her pouting, but he managed to hide it. When he was certain she was going to stay put, he disappeared through an old oak door to the right of the bar.
Being alone made her even more alert than before. She listened to every sound as well as she could. The men had mostly gone back to doing whatever they were doing before, chatting, drinking, and jeering at one another. Only a few continued to stare at her, and she could feel their distrustful gazes boring into her back.
Suddenly she felt more than just the heat of their stairs. Tala yelped when something hard and cold suddenly struck her back. She felt liquid splash against and run down the bare skin along her spine that her furs left exposed. Her hands gripped the counter, nails digging into the wood, as she waited for the immediate pain of a heavy tankard hitting her spine pass.
Her teeth bared, and a low growl resonated in her chest. Her body prepared itself for a fight, perhaps to the death if no one bothered to stop her. Just as she was about to whirl around and pounce on the first man she saw with empty hands, large fingers curled around her hand where it gripped the counter and held it in place.
"Mr. Morrow, if ye ever harm another patron of mine again, I will return the harm upon ye tenfold," a voice spoke in front of her. Tala looked up to see a man standing there, the same man who was now gripping her hand tightly to keep her from starting a fight she was destined to lose.
He was young, maybe even a little younger than Hook, with youthful but defined features. He had sandy blonde hair that was unkempt, shaggy, and fell in his face in some places. His eyes were a piercing blue, crystal like the sea roaring outside the little tavern. If Tala was being honest, she found him to be quite handsome.
"That thing ain't no patron. It's a dirty savage," Mr. Morrow spit back from behind her.
Tala kept her head low and continued to look forward. If she saw his face she may not be able to hold herself back anymore, no matter who was trying to keep her in place.
"Yer the dirtiest thing in here, Mr. Morrow, but ye don't hear me complainin'. I ain't throwin' drinks at ye even though ye smell like rotten cod," the man behind the bar countered. "Now give the poor girl an apology before I kick yer barnacle-ridden rear right out of my tavern."
Tala heard the man grumble something under his breath, then heard him slide back in his chair. He shuffled over to where she was sitting, and even though she refused to even look at him, he did as he was told to do.
"Sorry fer throwin' my drink at ye," Mr. Morrow sighed his defeat. "It won't be happenin' again."
"Now go back to yer drinkin' and leave my customers alone."
The man behind the bar pulled a rag from the pocket of the dirty white apron he wore around his waist. Tala was still seething, but she remained perfectly still even when he released her hand, which he had held firmly against the counter. She flexed her fingers as he made his way around the bar, taking in a deep, steadying breath.
"I'm sorry 'bout that," he said softly once he was standing behind her. He used the rag in his hand to gently dab at her rum-covered shoulders and back. "Our kind doesn't have the best history with yours, if ye know what I mean."
"My kind doesn't know yours exists," Tala muttered, allowing him to wipe away the liquor dripping down her spine. "I didn't know anyone pale men existed beyond Hook and his crew."
"Someone that seems more insultin'," he chuckled. "I gotta ask ye, lass. What're you doin' all the way our here at the Isle? Yer mighty far from home, aren't ye?"
"I was a prisoner," she answered honsstly. "Now I don't have a home. I-" She cut off her own words and flinched when she felt his fingertips press into a particularly tender spot next to her spine, the same spot that Mr. Morrow hit with his drink.
"Ye might get a bruise here. These tankards are heavy," he told her. "Does it hurt too bad?"
"I am fine," she replied calmly.
Tala was busy hiding her flustered face to really listen to what he was saying. She wasn't used to having her bare skin touched by strange men. Only Hook had ever really out his hands on her before, and it made her just as flustered, if not more. It was still a strange sensation for Tala.
"I appreciate ye not startin' a brawl today," the man joked with her as he made his way back around to his side if the bar. "I know he deserved whatever ye had planned, but blood is so hard to scrub outta the wood on the floor."
"Thank you," Tala cleared her throat, still a little red in the cheeks. "For defending me. I know that... your kind sees me as a savage."
"Well everybody fears what's different from them," he shrugged his shoulders. "Some of us have enough sense to know we're all just people tryin' to find paradise. These folks think the mainland is paradise, and they think those kids and your tribe are what's keepin' us away from it. Others like me know ye can make anyplace paradise. We don't need anythin' more than what we got right here."
"It's not... much different where I'm from. It's just another island. The only way to make it paradise is to make a deal with Pan," Tala huffed out, dropping her gaze again. "This island is paradise to me because it's free from that little... monster."
The look in her eyes made it obvious that she had a deeply rooted disdain for Peter Pan. There was an old pain there, as well as a hatred that grew stronger day by day.
"What's yer name, lass?" The barkeep asked in hopes of changing the subject. She hesitated for a moment, but decided he seemed trustworthy enough.
"Tala."
"Tala," he repeated with a nod. "What's it mean? I heard most natives have a name that means something important."
She almost smiled. It was rare and refreshing to hear someone call her something other than a savage. Native was a much nicer word, and she was grateful that he chose to use it instead of the word every other pale man used for her and her people.
"It means wolf," she explained softly. "Tala means wolf."
"Well, from what I've seen of ye, that's a mighty fittin' name," he grinned, making his face even more handsome than before. "My name is Sebastian Ryker. If ye be needin' anything, ye can come find me here. I'll pour ye a pint on the house for yer troubles today."
"Thank you," she smiled genuinely. It had been so long since she really smiled, and it warmed her from the inside out. "I'll remember that, Sebastian."
Captain Hook finished up with his business rather quickly. He had rushed through it so Tala didn't have to wait too long for him to return. She was new to the Isle, new to these people, and he didn't trust everyone to be tolerant of her presence considering where she came from.
However, when he stepped out of the back room, the first thing he saw was Tala smiling in a way he thought impossible. What really got under his skin was the fact that it was a man, a stranger, making her smile like that. The young bartender that Mrs. Harbor hired a year ago to manage the bar in her stead.
"Oh, little wolf," Hook cleared his throat to get her attention. When she turned to him, and their eyes met, that pretty smile faded away entirely. Watching it vanish from her expression sent a pang through his chest that he didn't understand.
"Hook," she blinked at him slowly. "Are you done with your business?"
"Yes. We'll be heading out now," he muttered, eyes flicking up to meet Sebastian's gaze. The younger man held his stare for a moment, before returning to his bar work behind the counter, cleaning glasses and the like. Hook let out an involuntary huff. How dare the lad make such a face at Hook. As if he was some kind of captor holding Tala against her will.
"Let's go, Tala."
She glanced back at Sebastian one more time, then slid off the stool to walk over to where Hook was waiting for her to join him at his side. She followed behind him as he walked quickly and aggressively out of the old front door.
Tala assumed that the business didn't go well. It was the only thing she could think of that would have soured his mood so dramatically. What she didn't know, was that it was actually her pretty smile that ruined his mood.