Chapter2
"My child," He said. "A child for my very own, to love me. I was never loved by children, and now I have a child to love me," Capt. Jas. Hook said, his eyes tearing from the tenderness of the moment.
"I shall name you Marguerite, after your mother." The captain actually had no idea if Marguerite was the child's mother's real name. For months and months, the captain had lived inside the fearsome crocodile's belly, when at last he was spit out. Well, not really spit out. What happened was the croc, while passing through an area beriddled with ship wrecks, had unknowingly swallowed a knife, and the supposedly dead captain had cut himself free, and in doing so, both ridding himself of the crocodile and freeing himself. He latched onto a chest from one of the ship wrecks, and floated far out to see, eventually coming washing ashore on a little known Caribbean island. Upon further examination, Hook found a secret compartment within the chest, filled with gold and treasures, which explained to him why the chest rode rather low in the water. From those jewels, the captain spend what he was sure were his last days eating and drinking well, slaking his lust and hoping that perhaps some of the crew had survived and was looking for him.
As it happened, one of the two surviving crew members was indeed looking for him. Poor Smee, ever pathetic and faithful to the captain, had set about searching for James Hook, and, within a month or so of Hook's arrival on the island, just when his supply of money was beginning to dry up, Smee found the poor once-captain, drunk and exhausted on the side of the rode. The pair set out at once to find their way back to the Neverland, so that Hook may seek his revenge upon Peter Pan, the boy who had cut off his hand and fed it to the dreadful crocodile, and then managed to feed the rest of him to that same croc, who was devoted to the taste of the captain. But before they could secure a ship that would make it to the Neverland, Hook's favorite whore, who called herself Marguerite, gave birth to a girl, a bubbly and stubborn girl, with black hair that curled like her fathers, and the strangest eyes. One, the one that, like her hair, took after Hook, was blue as the sky on the clearest of clear days, but the other was brown as dark chocolate, smooth and speckled with green at turns. Marguerite, being a whore, could not care for her, so it was up to Hook.
Hook took the newly named Marguerite to the Neverland, where he cared for her until she was the age of thirteen at which, like all children in the Neverland, she stopped growing and aging. She was taught the art of the sword and bow, and was apt at both, mostly so the bow. She wore a blood red velvet dress, fit for the finest queen, with a black sash, black as her hair, which put the night time sky to shame. She was a true daughter of nature, climbing trees and spending days at a time in the woods, day in which Hook would become drunk due to his worry, and when he passed out from the toxins, somehow Marguerite always knew, and she would return to his side and care for him until he woke.
She also spent many days climbing the rigging. Many heard her say that she never felt more alive than when she was standing at the top of the mast, wind blowing through her hair and chill chapping her lips. She said it almost felt as though she were flying. These were the times when Hook would take a swig of drink and return to his cabin, to pace and fret with worry that his daughter would find that there was a way to fly, but she would need to befriend Peter to do so, for only her held the secret, until his daughter would come down.
Now, having said this, you may have it in your head that Marguerite was a kind girl, a nice one whom you might like to be friends with. Well, make no mistake, this was the last thing she was. Marguerite was a pirate, through and through. She had a cold heart and even colder eyes. In her eyes, she held her determination. That was the best place for it, because people were most drawn to stare at her eyes, curious as they were, and when they did, it was immediately apparent that Marguerite was not one to be trifled with. She had killed many a Piccaninny during her mainland jaunts, and the Lost Boys were more afraid of her than Hook. So afraid were they that they refused to speak to Peter about her, for they knew that once their beloved leader found out about her, he would set out to kill her, and they feared he may loose. In hearing this, it is instantly apparent that these are not the Lost Boys from when Wendy was here. No, those boys stayed with Wendy, and became her brothers (except for Slightly, who became her cousin). No, these Lost Boys were different, but since Peter disliked change so much, he gave them the same names as before, and thus they took on the personality of their predecessors.
Life went on as thus, and all were happy. Marguerite had many friends on the island, mostly in the mermaids, as they shared the same cold spirit to be found in Marguerite, and she felt she could confide in these mysterious creatures. In surrounding herself with such company, her cold spirit grew and flourished. That is, it grew and flourished until she and Peter became aware of each others presence's.
"My child," He said. "A child for my very own, to love me. I was never loved by children, and now I have a child to love me," Capt. Jas. Hook said, his eyes tearing from the tenderness of the moment.
"I shall name you Marguerite, after your mother." The captain actually had no idea if Marguerite was the child's mother's real name. For months and months, the captain had lived inside the fearsome crocodile's belly, when at last he was spit out. Well, not really spit out. What happened was the croc, while passing through an area beriddled with ship wrecks, had unknowingly swallowed a knife, and the supposedly dead captain had cut himself free, and in doing so, both ridding himself of the crocodile and freeing himself. He latched onto a chest from one of the ship wrecks, and floated far out to see, eventually coming washing ashore on a little known Caribbean island. Upon further examination, Hook found a secret compartment within the chest, filled with gold and treasures, which explained to him why the chest rode rather low in the water. From those jewels, the captain spend what he was sure were his last days eating and drinking well, slaking his lust and hoping that perhaps some of the crew had survived and was looking for him.
As it happened, one of the two surviving crew members was indeed looking for him. Poor Smee, ever pathetic and faithful to the captain, had set about searching for James Hook, and, within a month or so of Hook's arrival on the island, just when his supply of money was beginning to dry up, Smee found the poor once-captain, drunk and exhausted on the side of the rode. The pair set out at once to find their way back to the Neverland, so that Hook may seek his revenge upon Peter Pan, the boy who had cut off his hand and fed it to the dreadful crocodile, and then managed to feed the rest of him to that same croc, who was devoted to the taste of the captain. But before they could secure a ship that would make it to the Neverland, Hook's favorite whore, who called herself Marguerite, gave birth to a girl, a bubbly and stubborn girl, with black hair that curled like her fathers, and the strangest eyes. One, the one that, like her hair, took after Hook, was blue as the sky on the clearest of clear days, but the other was brown as dark chocolate, smooth and speckled with green at turns. Marguerite, being a whore, could not care for her, so it was up to Hook.
Hook took the newly named Marguerite to the Neverland, where he cared for her until she was the age of thirteen at which, like all children in the Neverland, she stopped growing and aging. She was taught the art of the sword and bow, and was apt at both, mostly so the bow. She wore a blood red velvet dress, fit for the finest queen, with a black sash, black as her hair, which put the night time sky to shame. She was a true daughter of nature, climbing trees and spending days at a time in the woods, day in which Hook would become drunk due to his worry, and when he passed out from the toxins, somehow Marguerite always knew, and she would return to his side and care for him until he woke.
She also spent many days climbing the rigging. Many heard her say that she never felt more alive than when she was standing at the top of the mast, wind blowing through her hair and chill chapping her lips. She said it almost felt as though she were flying. These were the times when Hook would take a swig of drink and return to his cabin, to pace and fret with worry that his daughter would find that there was a way to fly, but she would need to befriend Peter to do so, for only her held the secret, until his daughter would come down.
Now, having said this, you may have it in your head that Marguerite was a kind girl, a nice one whom you might like to be friends with. Well, make no mistake, this was the last thing she was. Marguerite was a pirate, through and through. She had a cold heart and even colder eyes. In her eyes, she held her determination. That was the best place for it, because people were most drawn to stare at her eyes, curious as they were, and when they did, it was immediately apparent that Marguerite was not one to be trifled with. She had killed many a Piccaninny during her mainland jaunts, and the Lost Boys were more afraid of her than Hook. So afraid were they that they refused to speak to Peter about her, for they knew that once their beloved leader found out about her, he would set out to kill her, and they feared he may loose. In hearing this, it is instantly apparent that these are not the Lost Boys from when Wendy was here. No, those boys stayed with Wendy, and became her brothers (except for Slightly, who became her cousin). No, these Lost Boys were different, but since Peter disliked change so much, he gave them the same names as before, and thus they took on the personality of their predecessors.
Life went on as thus, and all were happy. Marguerite had many friends on the island, mostly in the mermaids, as they shared the same cold spirit to be found in Marguerite, and she felt she could confide in these mysterious creatures. In surrounding herself with such company, her cold spirit grew and flourished. That is, it grew and flourished until she and Peter became aware of each others presence's.