Title: Whither By Moonlight

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Nine - Not So Dead Afterall.

Rating: PG

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Author's Note: A HUGE thank you to all those that have been so enthusiastic with their praise for this story. I know its been a long time between updates (I've been penning another story,"Asking to be Panned") but I hope to remedy that. You have all asked me to keep going on this story, and I fully intend to complete it, your kind encouragement it certainly a wonderful incentive to keep going. Enjoy.
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Wendy shivered then stiffened, her ears picking up the unmistakable sound of boots striking rock. With her back firmly against the wall, she inched herself upright, unwilling to cower before her captors, despite the trembling in legs barely able to keep her upright. The rattle of a key in the lock was all the warning she got before the door swung open, light flooding the small room as several men entered carrying lanterns. Wendy shielded her eyes, squinting to see who they were. Hand's grasped her arm and started to propel her out of the door and along the corridor outside.

"Where...where are you taking me....please, where are we going?"

As her eyes accustomed themselves to the lantern's glow she saw another man pacing beside her, a quick glance over her shoulder confirming another following closely behind. None of the men spoke, their grim expressions not encouraging conversation. Clutching her thin blanket around her, Wendy gritted her teeth and concentrated on keeping on her feet as the men hustled her without preamble down the dark passage. She could see lights ahead, the passage opening out into a large cavern, the ceiling so high she could barely make it out. The floor was made up of a series of ledges, similar to an amphitheater, the various levels scattered with tall stalagmites, rising up in a vain attempt to join with their brothers hanging far above their heads. All around the wide cave blazing torches illuminated the shadows while casting grotesque shadows over the rock formations as men passed in front of them. Boxes, barrels and other detritus of human occupations were lumped and heaped around the floor, adding to the hazards of passage towards the other side of the cavern. The men surrounding Wendy ferried their captive despite the melee, steering her a course through the maze, leaving her free to observe the men now standing around and staring at her as she passed. They were men from many different countries, their clothes proclaiming them pirates and vagabonds, their expressions ranging from mild curiosity to outright leers, but always silent, no catcalls or jeers as she passed by. She counted less than thirty pirates in all, barely enough to crew a ship of any size, and certainly not an army. As they traversed the cavern a chant started from somewhere behind her, the voices mere whispers but growing in volume as she progressed closer to the far wall where she could see a rocky outcrop had formed a raised platform, on which stood an ornately carved chair. The chant grew louder, the single word now clear to her horrified ears.

"Hook.....Hook......Hook.....Hook.....HOOK......HOOK......HOOK!!"

The crowd of pirates were forming into ranks behind her as her guard approached the platform with its barbaric throne. Suddenly she was jerked to a halt, the man holding her arm dropping his grip, Wendy rubbing her arm to return its circulation as she stared wildly around. Her head was pounding as the men shouted louder and louder, thumping on the rock floor with their booted feet and any other object they could use. Of the man they called for, there was no sign and Wendy was almost ready to clap her hands over her ears as the shouts became a roar, echoes magnifying the sound until she felt her insides quiver. Just as she thought she would pass out, the voices stopped, the cave ringing with the echoes for several seconds before dying away completely.

In the silence Wendy heard booted feet approaching, her head tilting to stare up at the throne perched above where she stood. Her brow furrowed as she noted that the footsteps were uneven, as if the owner walked uncertainly, or possibly limped.

Out of a side passageway appeared the owner of the boots, his reason for an uneven pace clearly evident as he approached. Wendy gasped, her hands fluttering up to her throat as she stared at the man who had struck such terror and, if she dared to admit it, such fascination for her as a green girl, innocent of the ways of men. The man that carefully seated himself on the ornately carved throne was nothing like the immaculate dandy that had terrorized Neverland so many years ago. In his place was a man who had suffered horrifically, who carried scars that warped and twisted the once handsome features into a caricature that defied nature. Only the eyes were the same, still forget-me-not blue and as cold as ice, sweeping over the company assembled below him, his remains of a mouth curling into a sneer as he raised his hand to acknowledge his men's acclaim. His once black ringlets were now silver, no hint of their former jet, only the length remaining the same. On his right hand his hook gleamed as brightly as ever, peeking almost coyly out of the froth of lace that spilled over what would have been his wrist. Despite losing his looks, Hook had obviously not lost his love of the theatrical, his clothes as opulently embroidered as ever, his velvet coat and breeches as finely made as any court clothes. On his sound hand every finger carried a ring, each vying for the prize of most gaudiest, flashing and sparkling in the light of the two flambeau that flanked the throne. Long, black leather sea boots completed his ensemble, encasing his legs to above the knee and mirror polished.

Her shock at his altered appearance waning, Wendy noticed the other man standing behind Captain Hook's chair, his dark eyes staring at her out of his saturnine face. He was dressed almost as finely as Hook, but all in black, unrelieved by any decoration, even his linen being of black silk. With his dark hair and eyes he looked like a predatory bird and Wendy shivered.

"Bring the wench forward.....let's see what manner of creature is going to bring the Pan so easily into our grasp."

Hook's voice rang out, his men grabbing Wendy by both arms and dragging her forward, her blanket-shawl dropping unnoticed to the ground. Wendy struggled but managed only to wrench her shoulder, the men unyielding as they threw her to the floor at Hook's feet before retiring to stand ready for his next order.

Hook rested his elbow on his knee and leant forward, regarding his disheveled captive with a crooked smile on his ruined lips.

"Wendy........Darling....my how the years have changed you. I said you were a beauty when I had you aboard my ship all those years ago, and you have grown into a beauty indeed....wouldn't you agree Skinner?"

"A rare beauty, as you say Captain."

"Did you ever imagine you would be returning to Neverland my dear? Or did you think that Peter had forgotten his Wendy? I can assure you that Hook never forgot....."

Wendy shakily rose to her feet, unwilling to remain on her knees before the Pirate Captain, her hands pushing her hair off her face as she raised her head and stared back at Hook.

"You had better let me go.......Peter will be coming for me soon."

A muffled sound of laughter greeted her words, quickly stifled when Hook waved for silence. Leaning back in his chair, James Hook grinned at her.

"I sincerely hope that he will do exactly that, m'dear. I hate to think all your suffering had been in vain. As for him coming to get you soon, you must be confused....it has already been a day and a night since my men took you from the Indian village......Peter is not exactly rushing to your rescue....or so it would seem."

Again laughter rippled around the cavern, Wendy licking her dry lips as fear snaked down her spine.

"I'm sure there's a very good reason why Peter is delayed....he's...he's probably raising an army to storm this....this, wherever this is....and.....and....he'll be here, I know he will."

"Oh I'm counting on that Wendy......but as for an army.....who has he to call on?"

Wendy looked nonplussed for a moment, not sure whether Hook was asking her a rhetorical question or was genuinely interested in an answer.

"There are plenty who will aid him."

"Not as many as you seem to think, m'dear.....the Mermaids won't get involved, they fear for their existence and steer clear when any conflict is even hinted at. The fairies are almost extinct..."

"WHAT!! You can't mean that........what's happened to the fairies?"

Hook leant forward again, his face creasing in a feral grin.

"I've all but wiped the flying vermin from the face of Neverland...there'll be no help from what remnants remain."

"Oh no....how could you....." Wendy stared at Hook in horror, remembering the clouds of golden lights that had fluttered around Peter and herself as they danced in the woods, the delicate creatures giving the moment an enchanted magic.

"Very easily....you only have to say a word and they drop down dead. Once their tree was uprooted and destroyed, it was just a matter of saying the words they dread and watching the glowing bugs drop to the earth......stone, cold dead."

"You monster...." Wendy felt her eyes prickle with tears at the loss of so many tiny lives.

Hook saw her blinking to try and clear her eyes, his scarred lips pursing into a moue as he reached out to catch one of the tears, Wendy twisting her head our of his reach.

"No need for tears....the world is well rid of them...nothing but trouble and mischief. Now back to who Peter would call on for help...not the mermaids, not the fairies....why not the old crew of the Jolly Roger?"

Hook gestured to the men assembled below. "What think you mates...would you stand a chance against me old crew mates.....think that any one of you brawny blokes would stand a chance against my old first mate Smee?"

The men exploded into gales of laughter at Hook's sally, shouts of "No!" and "Just let'em try!" telling Wendy that these men would make short work of the sailors that once crewed the Jolly Roger.

Hook sat back once more, well satisfied by their response to his jests.

"So who does that leave.....the Redskins? They are brave and courageous, to be sure, and a lot younger than Smee's men. They might have a fighting chance.....but Wendy....why would they risk their lives to rescue you? You are not one of them.....you do not even belong in Neverland....you are an outsider, a stranger to them....what possible reason could they have to risk life and limb to rescue you?"

Wendy looked at him aghast. He was right, everything he said was right. The Indians wouldn't want to risk their lives for her. She wouldn't want them too either, they had their own families and children to care for. She would hate to think of Little Creeks sons and grandsons dying in an attempt to rescue her.

"No.....no....they have no reason to rescue me.....they mustn't....."

"So you see.....the only person who will try, is Peter himself....alone, with no army, no help....." Hook looked forlorn. "Who will rescue the fair Wendy?"

"No.....I don't want him to risk his life for me....I don't..."

With the speed of a snake, Hook reached out his hand and grasped Wendy's chin, her hands coming up to wrap around his wrist, unable to break the grip he held.

"Oh but I want him too....the brave, foolish, lovesick fool. I want him to try...so that he can fail...spectacularly. And when he does....I will have him as my captive....and what should I do with him then?"

Still holding onto Wendy's face, Hook turned her head so she looked down at the faces staring up at her.

"What say you men....when we have the Pan...what shall we do with him?"

The cavern erupted, the men shouting a variety of gruesome deaths, their ferocity making Wendy feel sick as they graphically illustrated their descriptions with slashing knives and waving swords. Turning her back to face him, Hook dragged Wendy forward, her hands dropping to brace herself on the arms of the chair, her face mere inches from Hook's ravaged countenance.

"I think we'll find many prolonged and agonizing ways to end Peter Pan's life, don't you think? My men have waited a long time to get their hands on the brat, a long time to think up suitable ways to end his days, a quick death the kindest, but least likely to occur."

Wendy felt her senses leaving her, Hook's face blurring and starting to spin as she lost her grip on reality, his fingers slipping from her chin as her eyes rolled up in her head. Wendy fell, Skinner moving quickly to catch her before she hit the ground.

"Take the wench back to her cell.....no wait." Hook tapped his lip as he stared at the limp girl clasped in Skinner arms, Wendy's white face a pale oval against the mans dark clothes. "Take her to your room Skinner......mind, I don't want her harmed.....if Peter does somehow slip through our net and manages to get in here, I want him to find her in a situation that raises doubts as to her loyalty. Make sure she has everything she needs and get her out of that rag. There's a chest in my quarters that has dresses galore. Make sure she looks well cared for, as little like a captive as possible.....Peter will think she's turned traitor and betrayed him....another knife to plunge into his heart before ending his miserable existence."

Skinner's features remained impassive as Hook spoke his thoughts aloud. He almost pitied Peter Pan, his gaze flicking to the pale girl laying limply in his arms before returning to contemplate the madness lurking in Hook's twisted face.

"As you wish Captain." Swinging away, Skinner carried Wendy out of the cavern and down through a series of tunnels until he reached his quarters. Kicking open the door he entered the room and lay the girl on his own bed before turning and lighting the lanterns around the room, bringing welcome light to the gloom. Returning to the bed he stared down at the girl lying limply against the covers. Although his room was not as richly appointed as Hook's, as second in command Skinner had appropriated his share of booty and outfitted his rooms to a comfortably furnished state. The bed had proper sheets and pillows with pillowcases, the chair in the corner was actually upholstered, a mirror hanging above the handsome dressing table holding a china bowl and jug to hold washing water. On the walls hung a rich tapestry plus a bookshelf that held a few precious leather bound manuscripts. In all, it was luxury compared to the basic pallets that the men slept on in the common rooms further down the passageway.

Leaving the room, careful to lock the door behind him, Skinner entered Hook's chambers and found the correct chest. Carrying it back to his room, he set it down and opened it. Inside were several dresses, carefully folded with tissue paper and lavender to ward off the moth. Pulling out the one on top, he shook it out, the light catching the gold embroidery that decorated the bodice. It was a style favored a century ago, the skirts wide and full, the bodice cut low, the half-sleeves ending in a froth of Venetian lace. The colour was a rich blue velvet trimmed with blonde lace, the skirt split to display a cream satin under-skirt, a perfect choice for the young woman laying insensible on his bed.

Staring down at her, Skinner tilted his lips in a wry smile.

"You are lucky that Hook chose me to be your appointed keeper, Wendy girl. Anyone else would have taken rude advantage of your state...as it is...I have little interest.....in women."

With an economy of movement, Skinner divested Wendy of her deerskin dress and ruined moccasins, noting the bruising from her rough handling by his men. Treating her like a rag doll, he quickly dressed her in the blue velvet, eschewing the usual plethora of underclothes, preferring to leave that for her to sort out later. Tossing her Indian clothes into the corner, he rolled Wendy onto her stomach and laced up the back of the dress with fingers apparently well practiced with ladies clothing.

"Just because I don't desire women, doesn't mean I didn't cut my eye-teeth on their bountiful charms..." He muttered to himself, grunting as he rolled her onto her back again, her hair falling over her face like a drift of gold. Brushing it out of her face he noted the dark bruising under her eyes, her lashes like sooty smudges against her cheeks. "It's a shame that fate has chosen to turn her back on you, my beauty....under different circumstances, you could have been a queen..."

Shaking his head to clear it of fancies, Skinner pursed his lips and bent down to gather up the grubby clothes.

"Farewell, sleeping beauty.....pray that Peter is not too tardy in his attempt to regain you....if he takes too long, I fear you will suffer for his delay. Hook will not be patient for much longer."

Turning his back, Skinner opened the door and stepped out into the passageway, locking the door behind him. A man was waiting for him and he saluted Skinner before stepping forward.

"I'm to guard the door."

"As Hook commands Eli....I'll send Malcolm with a tray for her in short order, but don't let him enter alone. She may look like a kitten, but I'll wager she has claws and spirit."

"Aye sir...."

Nodding, Skinner left the man standing outside his door and headed back to the main cavern.

Unseen by either man, George Treading, late of HMS Circe, kept his corporeal self hidden in the shadows, his form barely discernible from the rocks behind him. He had been an invisible witness to the scene in the cavern but had not been quick enough to follow Skinner and became lost in the labyrinth of tunnels and rock, before following the man, Eli and finding himself outside the right room. Having the ability to drift through rock was fine if you knew where you were supposed to be going, but a few degrees off and you ended up in the middle of a mountain and nowhere to rematerialise to get your bearings. It was both frustrating and sometimes scary, even for a ghost.

Now he knew where he was and where Wendy was, which was more to the point. As Skinner brushed past him, the living man shivered, as if feeling George's ghostly presence, before passing by without a backward glance. George drifted further down the corridor before passing through the rock into the room beyond. Seeing Wendy sprawled on the bed, he drew in an airless breath before moving closer to peer into her face.

"Wendy?"

Feeling emboldened, George concentrated and his ghostly outline solidified, revealing the young man he'd been. With his newly formed hand he reached down to touch Wendy's cheek, the chill of his fingers bringing her around as quickly as smelling salts. Her lashes fluttered and he found himself gazing down into her ocean blue eyes, confusion painting them a darker hue until she recognized his features.

"George? I thought you'd left me....."

"I'm sorry....."

She blinked up at him, her eyes sliding away to look at the room she was in, her hands reaching down to touch the velvet of the dress now covering her body.

"What's happened......where am I......what am I wearing?" Panic was starting to colour her voice, Wendy twisting her neck to stare at the walls surrounding the bed, her fingers plucking at fabric of the dress. George tried to still her hand but she jerk away from his cold touch, scooting backwards until she hit the back of the bed, her legs folding under her.

"Who dressed me? I don't remember.....the men were yelling, saying horrible things...describing how they were.....were going to....oh God, how they were going to kill Peter..."

"I know....I was there....I'm sorry...."

"What am I going to do?...I have to escape....stop Peter from finding this place."

Wendy started searching the room, looking past George, her eyes filling with tears that spilt, unheeded, down her cheeks. "I have to get out of here...." She stared wild-eyed at George, her fingers reaching out to grasp at him, her hand passing right through his chest. "You have to help me...get me away from here."

"I will help you Wendy....please, you have to calm yourself.....please."

Her breath hitching in her chest, Wendy tried to still her thumping heart, the echoes of the men's jeers still ringing in her head.

"They'll kill him is he comes here for me....I couldn't bear it if he died because of me....I couldn't bear it...."

"Wendy.....there's a man guarding the door, I'll try and scare him away, if you can..." He broke off when a knock sounded at the door, making them both jump.

Wendy swallowed hard. "Who is it?" She called out.

"I've a tray for you miss....orders of Skinner."

"Just a moment," Wendy replied, casting a look towards her ghostly companion who was already vanishing before her eyes. With George once more invisible, Wendy sucked in a breath to steady herself before calling out again.

"Come in..."

She heard the key turn in the lock and watched the thick door open, one man holding it ajar while another younger man stepped into the room holding a loaded tray. He set it down on the dressing table, casting sideways looks at Wendy crouched on the bed.

"I'll be back for it later....hope it to your liking?"

Before Wendy could form a reply the older man cuffed the younger and pulled him towards the door.

"Get off with ya Malcolm....don't dawdle."

The two men left, the key turning loudly in the lock behind them.

George quickly reappeared, approaching the bed and sitting on its side.

"I'll wait for the corridor to be clear before I try anything.....I should be able to pass the key under the door. I can't unlock it from the outside, I don't have the solidity for that...but I can pull it out and push it under."

"I'll be ready....do you know your way to the surface from here?"

"I won't lie to you Wendy....I don't know my way around these tunnels all that well....I got lost just getting here."

Wendy bit her lip, her brief burst of confidence fading, then she tilted her chin. "Do what you can George....if we don't get out, at least we can draw the pirates attention, distract them from keeping an eye out for Peter....its not much, but its something."

Wiping away the traces of her tears with the heel of her hand, Wendy climbed off the bed and stood resolute, her hands smoothing her skirts in an effort to calm herself. George also stood, admiration for her courage shining from his eyes.

"You're a brave lass.....I'll have to wait and pick my time, but I'm sure it won't take long to scare the pants off the guard. For all their brash and bravado, they're a superstitious pack of animals. Watch for the key."

"I'll be waiting George...good luck."

Giving her a wink, George faded into the ether, leaving Wendy alone in the room.

Wendy had no way of noting how much time passed before she heard a muffled scream from beyond her prison. Within seconds she saw a metal key being pushed under the door. Snatching it up she fitted it in the lock and twisted the key. It moved smoothly, the door creaking open to reveal an empty corridor, the torches still burning brightly along its length.

"George?" Wendy whispered, closing the door behind her and locking it. She felt a cold draught and George appeared behind her.

"This way lass....but hurry, I've checked around the corner and the way is clear, for now."

"Lead the way...I'll be right behind you."

Gathering up her skirts, Wendy kept close to the rock wall, following her companions barely discernible outline along the passageway.

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TBC.....soon, I promise.