This story takes place only a few years after Wendy's first visit to
Neverland with Peter Pan, so it is considered a follow-up to the 2003 P.J.
Hogan film Peter Pan (with some references to the original Barrie novel
[1911] and his own Peter Pan prequel, Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens
[1904]).
I'm baaaaaack! Wheeeeeeewwwwww! Doncha just HATE writer's block?! LOL! I know I do! I can't believe this took so long to write! Oh well...It's here now and that's all that matters! sigh Hope it was worth the wait.... :-P (And I can't promise that the next chapter won't take just as long...please bear with me!)
Another MEGAWARNING for you younger and more sensitive readers out there – more NC-17 stuff in here, and decidedly "dirtier" too, but as always, it serves a specific purpose. I do not write smut just for smut's sake.
Again, I have no ownership of any of the characters or actors who portrayed them...but, ooh, the possibilities...wringing hands (heheheh)
Here's Chapter XVI.... More comments please, good or bad! :-)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
XVI. IN A NEW LIGHT
She wished to hear none of it.
As she climbed her way onto the stern of the Jolly Roger, she was fully cognizant of the ebbing sunlight, but she wanted none of the Captain's vitriol. His words were as foreseeable as the approaching night, as she had played them over and again in her head on her journey back to the ship, and she had no interest in listening to them aloud. No more scoldings, no more admonishments. She'd had quite enough of that.
It was high time to embrace the fate which he had handed to her and sculpt it into a practical reality. She was no longer innocent little Wendy Darling. That pretense was quite over.
Amid a web of masts and rigging she stood obscured, her eyes settling upon the black figure reclining at the bow, spyglass in hand, searching the horizon for his wayfaring maiden. Though as well as keeping watch for Wendy's return, the Captain himself observed the peculiar mood hanging over the island with a silent intrigue. He sat back in a chair, his feet propped up against the railing before him and his spyglass ever at the ready should something of interest stir within these stagnant surroundings. That strange, frigid breeze danced amongst his inky curls, and the twilight's melancholy glow made his eyes to sparkle like two blue beacons. At that moment, he was very much the epitome of the dashing heroes about whom Wendy had read in those bawdy novels.
At least, her mind's eye would favor him so.
Wendy crept deftly across the ship's deck so as not to be noticed by the handful of pirates and watchers milling about. There needn't be any clamor as to her return. She would present herself once again to the Captain on her own terms.
Hook had not wavered an inch during her entire approach, as if locked frozen in a helplessness which he could not comprehend. When he had re- embarked on his ship some hours earlier, he solemnly relayed to Smee the episode in the jungle, to which his bosun cautiously asked:
"Cap'n, forgive me, but...if you knew Wendy was going after Pan, why didn't you follow 'er back to his hideout?"
The Captain only stood unblinking at the old man, his face devoid of all expression, as if he had not heard the question. Thus was when he picked up his spyglass and settled upon the bow for the remainder of the daylight.
And there he remained, as ever unbrokenly, as Wendy strolled forward behind him. Not until she was well within his periphery did he take notice of her, his head darting abruptly in her direction.
"Wendy..." He sat forward as if preparing to stand, but he was stayed immediately by Wendy's hand, which swept up to his mouth and alighted there decisively. With not another word, Wendy took the spyglass from him, setting it aside, then swung a leg over him and perched upon his lap. And before Hook could even think a thing, Wendy took his face in her hands and kissed him feverishly.
The Captain had not truly planned on reprimanding Wendy very harshly for her tardiness, but if he had, even then he would have been swayed quite easily by Wendy's sudden and delightfully bold gesture. He pulled her in closer to him. And though Wendy was evidently still quite green when it came to these adult matters, Hook thoroughly appreciated her efforts nonetheless.
When at last she liberated him from her attack to take a breath, Hook could not quite help but smirk.
"Well, well, well..." he chuckled, endlessly amused and fairly smug at what he considered the girl's inevitable want for him.
But as I have said, Wendy wished not a word from him this night – especially not any loutish gloating. She quieted him straight away with her lips, allowing herself to listen only to his greedy sighing. And so he let his hand do his talking instead, gliding underneath her skirt and up her bare thigh, and it quickly became Wendy's turn to sigh as he dug his thumb into the crease where her hip met her pelvic bone. She was sparked at once, and her arms constricted around his neck.
She'd returned to the state whence she found herself before Peter had interrupted them with his juvenile tantrum in the forest – on the cusp of barely contained rapture at Hook's overbearing will, and she squeezed the Captain's thighs tightly betwixt her own. If he did not take her immediately, to rub out that torturously fantastic itch inside her which he had induced the previous night, she knew she would go absolutely mad. And the telltale expanding beneath Hook's britches told them both loud and clear that her satiation would be imminent.
However, Hook suddenly pulled her away and sat forward.
"Not here, darling," he whispered huskily.
If not there, then somewhere – anywhere – and soon, was Wendy's thinking. Taking the pirate by the hand, she rose and lifted him to his feet as well. She started anxiously aft, but Hook stood firm, practically yanking her back in place. This made her instantly worried – did he no longer want her? The truth of it was, Hook could not very well have his dogs see him being dragged about the ship by a female as if some obedient pet. Though he could not very well disclose this to Wendy either, for he was quite conscious of her feelings about Pride. But he would have to come up with something to ease that nasty crease presently in her forehead.
Forcing a pleasant smile, Hook strolled toward the perplexed girl. "A lady should never be made to escort a gentleman."
He held his elbow out to her graciously, and he could see the relief take over her person as she took his arm with glee. Their promenade across the ship and toward his cabin commenced thusly. The Captain opened the door and showed his guest inside, but before stepping in himself, he shot a strict look to his watchmen in the crow's nest. The put-upon subordinates imagined their shift would be a long one this night.
Scarcely before he had time to latch the cabin door behind him, Wendy had the Captain pinned to the pine and smothered in her blistering kisses. Though not terribly inconvenienced by this, Hook nonetheless tried to move himself and the girl toward his bedchamber, and he was right astonished at the effort this took! This diminutive pillar of passion, biting at his neck and chest, would barely let him budge. They had gotten no further than just beyond the alcove of the entrance toward the foot of Hook's fainting couch when suddenly Wendy clasped his collar and, with all her might, shoved the strapping pirate onto his back upon the plush settee.
Normally, and not unexpectedly, Hook's standard reaction to such an affront would be to immediately spring back up madly thrashing his claw. But it was quite the contrary now, as he found himself immensely sparked by this fiery blossom bursting forth from her hitherto prim and reticent bud.
For all he could distinguish, she might have very well been out to slit his throat. Perhaps he should keep his hook at hand yet. Either way, he would thoroughly enjoy the fight.
A fiendish grin spread across his lips as she climbed atop him once more, and he sat up hastily to meet her, devastating her with ravenous kisses of his own. He pressed his lips vigorously to every accessible patch of skin, all the while his hand temptingly lingering beneath her hemline. Wendy was dire to feel his mouth upon her breasts again. Without waiting for his instigation, she stood to her knees and wrenched her meddlesome nightdress from her body and hurled it to the floor. Both her hands came to the side of Hook's head, and she eagerly inclined her chest to his face, enticing the pirate with her nipple. But he would not take it straight away, only wickedly teasing her by flicking at it with the tip of his tongue. He chuckled softly and delighted at her wretched whimpering for his touch until at last he took it heartily betwixt his teeth, at which time she gave out such a euphoric moan, and very soon her flesh was so splendidly awash in Hook's sultry breath.
Without thinking – though, truly, there was little room for thinking at this juncture – Wendy's fingers once more found Hook's ruff, and with one adrenaline-fueled rush, she tore his shirt open down the middle. Thus was when Hook's primal instincts finally ignited, and in a silvery flash, his claw darted toward Wendy's throat, but with an equally inherent gasp was Wendy able to catch his talon at the base just before it buried itself into her defenseless flesh.
All became tense and still at once, save for their staggered breathing, as both pairs of eyes fixed heavily on the menacing appendage at the end of Hook's right arm. Soon their respective gazes found each other's, and it was quite evident the sentiments plaguing their minds.
Had they really not yet conquered these emotive hurtles? Did she still not trust him? Was he truly harboring mortal tendencies toward her?
Hook rued his haste at once, and his eyes begged for Wendy to believe that he would never cause her harm. Oh, and how she longed to believe him. She needed to. If he were to turn on her in the end as well, the desolation would be unbearable, and she would rather he go ahead and tear her to bits than have to endure any more of it.
She loosened her grip on the base of his claw, eyeing it sharply as it continued its path toward her skin, only at a thicker pace. Her eyes shut tight as the cruel tip pressed softly into her cheek. She said a silent prayer that, whatever he was planning to do, he would be quick and merciful.
She felt the blade glide almost liquid-like toward her mouth, where it outlined the shape of her lip. A quiver shot down her spine, though even she could not determine if this was in fear or pleasure...or perhaps both working hand in hand. Now the claw moved over her chin and across her jawline, then in such a wonderfully perilous proximity to her jugular. She arced her neck back, as if offering her throat for the cutting, and breathed deeply as the claw slithered ever further down to her dampened collarbone. Her hand still upon its base, she guided it over her breast, gasping as the Captain tweaked her vulnerable nipple with the blade. Downward still the horrible instrument progressed, and Wendy's whole being reeled at the sensation of the cold steel against her burning flesh. At the last it came over her stomach, grazing her belly button, then farther below, until Hook pressed it flat and taut against her femininity.
She could put it off no longer. Swiping his hook aside, both her hands snatched at his trousers, tugging desperately at the buttons. Her zeal was wholly contagious, and Hook fervently aided her endeavor. It seemed an agonizing eternity before his britches gaped open and his swollen manhood was finally liberated. Nary an additional moment could be wasted now. Placing her hands firmly upon his shoulders, griping his torn shirtsleeves, Wendy rose to her knees. With the skilled guidance of Hook's hand and claw grasping her hips, she lowered herself slowly onto his starving erection. Old pains were reawakened as he slid into her, but this was quite naught compared with the ache in her very soul for his intoxicating possession of her body. She gasped sharply with each swivel of her hips to gain more of him, and Hook let out several strenuous grunts as he tried in vain to buck his hips into her.
Tears began to well up in Wendy's eyes as she continued to work her way onto him fully, to find that magnificent itch once more, but she could do neither. Why was it not happening? What was wrong?
And then, Hook shut his eyes and fell onto his back upon the couch, taking Wendy with him. His head had barely hit the cushion before an impish tingle suddenly engulfed Wendy's lower half. Ah, there it was! Resting her palms against Hook's stomach, she straightened slightly and grappled to hold onto the sensation. She rocked her hips violently, commanding her body to swallow every last inch of him.
She saw through her inflamed eyes the Captain arch his back and cry out beneath her. Oh, was this how he had seen her the previous evening? Only now, he was at her mercy. She watched him writhe and quiver against the couch with a wicked smile, and her fingers found their way to the leather strap across his heaving chest and wrapped themselves around it for leverage. As if an Amazon championing a mighty steed, Wendy gyrated grandly against him, completely bathing him in her sodden passion. She leaned her head back and wailed triumphantly into the Neverland heavens, to Mother Nature herself in defiance of her indolent progression, to her officious and repressive parents – especially that blasted Aunt Millicent – but most of all to the Boy who would not ever grow up.
'I never should have brought you here...'
She guffawed.
'Do you even remember how to fly?'
I fly now, boy, on my own!
'Your captain is waiting for you...'
To lift me up from whence you have thrown me down!
'A privilege you should extend to Hook, but not me...'
You would never know how to appreciate it!
'I can no longer save you...'
Who needs it anyway?
'I think it is your biggest pretend...'
No more!
Let it be known here and now, she wanted to scream, that Wendy Moira Angela Darling is NOT a child. She requires no chivalrous rescuing, no enigmatic little gamin to hold her hand. She is the true Center of the Universe. She is the queen of her own destiny.
Wendy Darling is a WOMAN.
A spark, like electricity, shot up from the tips of Wendy's toes all the way to where her and Hook's bodies joined, and hence it surged forward into the Captain's flesh as if lightning, triggering such a thunderous tempest throughout him the likes of which he had never known in all his centuries worth of conquests. Wave after wave crashed into both their beings to their very cores, and Hook was certain he felt even his ship lurch in reply. Aye, all the gods above spoke at once in humbled admiration of this truly inspiring show of concord, and awed they were even further as Hook sent the gasping torrent charging back to his loins, pitching upward sharply and exploding within Wendy in a hot geyser of ecstasy. A finer show mighty Thor himself could not have achieved.
As the final embers of their splendor fizzled and dissipated overhead, Wendy collapsed onto Hook's chest, brushing her lips sweetly against his sweat-beaded skin. Hook lay depleted but not without smirking poise.
"Good show, my dear," he cooed lavishly, allowing himself to slip with grace from Wendy's body.
She did not reply, her mouth instead carrying on in its gentle study of his chest. Reaching inside his shirtsleeve, she unlatched the strap of his harness, allowing him at last to draw in an unimpeded breath. She kissed softly the reddened impression it had left on his flesh. Although thoroughly sapped herself, her benevolence seemingly knew nary a bound as she implored the Captain upright in order that she could remove his spoilt shirt and oppressive brace. In kind, Hook kicked off the last of his trousers, and they were thus able to fully recline together anew as Nature bore them.
The finished arm of the blithely dozing pirate held Wendy in its crook, the mangled one resting on his belly. Its mass of scars soon found themselves under the fond caress of the girl's wandering fingertips. Hook withstood the urge to deny her, allowing himself wholly to accept her touch upon his horrendous defect. They remained in this tranquility for a time, until Wendy, watching closely her fingers outline the unpigmented grooves carved into his stump, could hold her tongue no longer.
"James..."
His eyes remained closed, but the side of his mouth lifted at her utterance of his name again.
"Mm?"
"How did he do it?"
He opened one eye. "How did who do what?"
"Peter...how did he take your hand?"
A bothered snort met her question promptly. "Oh, must we taint these dear moments with talk of him?"
"But I feel I must know," Wendy beseeched, raising her head from his chest. "Please tell me, and I promise I shan't ever broach the subject again."
And how a slave he was to her beseeching. Besides, he considered, this could prove to be a terrific opportunity to lure Wendy against that brat once and for all.
"Very well, my sweet," Hook acceded. "If you really must know."
Satisfied, Wendy laid her head once more upon his chest, settling in for the undoubtedly gripping tale.
"I suppose that in order that I should convey the story correctly," Hook began, "I should first impart to you a bit of knowledge which you may find rather unexpected..."
"Yes?" Wendy asked eagerly.
"Despite what you might have assumed, 'twas I who inhabited the Neverland long before Peter Pan ever stepped his grubby little feet upon it."
"Truly?" Wendy lifted her head again.
"Oh yes," he replied. "You affect surprise now, but methinks you might have known it all along."
"How so?"
He stared off wistfully. "Tell me, darling; prior to your first journey to Neverland, when you would regale your brothers and anyone at all who would listen with your thrilling and legendary stories, of whose adventures would you recount?"
Wendy searched her muddled past. "Why...yours!"
"Aye...Hook's," he grinned with a nod. "You had nary in inkling of Pan's existence until he had alighted your windowsill that fateful night. But always did you know of Hook."
"Yes, I suppose I did," Wendy said, laying her head back down. "How extraordinary...that all this time it was you and not Peter who visited my dreams and stories."
"Because I have been here longest. Because my name is emblazoned deeper upon these lands and seas than Peter's."
"Oh, you must tell me how you came to Neverland as well!"
"Of course I shall tell you, for 'tis also part of the story," Hook said. "Though, truth be told, I don't actually remember anything of my life outside of Neverland."
"Nothing at all?"
"Not a thing," he sighed. "Not even my own name."
"Your own name?" Wendy inquired.
"Aye. Hook is not my true name."
"Oh," she considered it. "No, I imagine it would not be. How dreadful that you can't remember."
"All my memories read like an unfinished novel...the only surviving chapters being those which took place here." He strived not to sound so bloody pitiful to her. "I do, however, have but one recollection of my days on the Mainland..."
"Oh, please!" Wendy exclaimed keenly.
"Though the incident occurs to me as if a letter someone else had written relaying the story. I only see the words but no pictures...I can't even be truly sure it ever happened, but it must have..."
"Do try your best. I am frightfully curious," she encouraged him.
"I was strolling, one day, through Kensington Gardens..."
"Why, I live quite near there!"
"A mysterious place, you know. By some means which are no longer clear to me, I happened to rescue a fairy from some ghastly peril..."
"A fairy!" Wendy almost laughed.
Hook smiled at her unawareness. "Why, certainly, my dear. The Gardens are full of them."
"I say..." she beamed. "And you saved one!"
"Appalling, isn't it?" he teased. "It must have been entirely inadvertent! Nevertheless, it happened, and as I was soon to learn, this particular little sprite was a member of the Royal Fairy Court...and a direct descendant of the goddess Leucothea, as my luck would have it."
"How opportune for you!"
"Indeed, for in return of my assistance, the fairy gave to me not only immunity from shipwrecks for the remainder of my sea-faring days, but also a special potion which, taken only once, would render me completely indestructible for the duration of a single day."
"Fantastic," Wendy cooed. "Did you use it?"
"I imagine I did. I certainly don't have it now..." He tossed a stern glance to his incomplete arm.
Wendy bit her lip sheepishly. "And you can recall nothing before or since your brush with the fairy in Kensington Gardens?"
"Quite not," Hook lamented. "So many yesterdays, my darling...and every other one just a blank page."
She gave him a little squeeze. "I should like, one day, to be able to fill up those pages for you again."
He stroked her hair. "Well, you are the Storyteller. What would you have the pages say?"
She considered the question. "Tell me about Peter and your life here in Neverland, and perhaps something shall be brought to light."
"Perhaps." Hook was doubtful. "The details of my first arrival on this island are anybody's guess really, though I suspect that my own disillusionment with Reality might have shown me the way."
"Was your life so unsatisfactory?"
"I was an outcast," Hook scowled. "I may not remember many things, but I do know that. Each turn I took, I was shunned and discarded. Everything I wanted – everything I had – I could only obtain through force. I suppose that is how I came to piracy. It seemed my destiny all along."
"Surely you found your proper function then. Captain James Hook – the only man whom Barbeque ever feared." Wendy nuzzled her cheek into his neck, as if with pride to have herself been seduced by such an infamous figure.
"Ah but you see, my dear, though legend and bedtime stories extol the name of Hook, I was not yet he in my glory days. I was feared by my rightful name. Or perhaps by none at all. It mattered not by which name they feared me – just that they feared me. There must have come a time, eventually, when I grew weary of...wandering. I was feared, yes. But I was not respected. And I was never accepted. A life of depravity only yields so much gratification before it simply hollows you out and leaves you to die. Or, worse yet, to live."
He went quiet for a long moment. Wendy said nothing despite her burning interest, and only silently hoped he would find the spirit to continue.
At last, the pirate found his way back to the story and sighed. "And so, it was with a jolly happenstance that I stumbled upon the Neverland. Such a gorgeously macabre place, Wendy. Nothing at all as you know it today. A land of perpetual melancholy, where the Sun never rose more than a few meters from the horizon and only for mere minutes a day. A terrain of such hushed solitude and apathy..."
Wendy discreetly wrinkled her nose at these destitute images which Hook painted, but he spoke with such a nostalgic grin.
He drew in a refreshing breath. "I had never felt more at home...so utterly assimilated. It was beautiful."
At the first, she could not quite imagine how this could be. But when she considered the source, she decided it would make perfect sense how a man like Hook could find beauty in misery. They were kindred spirits for him.
"And the most wonderful aspect of all," he continued, now in a far merrier mood, "No children! Oh, there were of course the Indian children, but so much more like miniature grown-ups they were, as their elders would instruct them thus.
"The first beings of whose acquaintance I made here," he went on, "were the mermaids. They roamed freely then, as there was no Sun to limit their travel. Really they are the last remnants of those more contented times. We connected at once, myself and the dark creatures. We understood each other perfectly."
He spoke as if reminiscing of an old lover, which put Wendy off a touch. She placed a subtle stroke upon the side of his neck with her fingertips to remind him as to whom he presently held in his arms.
Hook caught on with bemusement. "Make no mistake, darling, that although the wily females were most helpful to me, they would not have thought twice of dragging me to dear Davy Jones if I were to get too close!" Wendy softened. "You see, 'twas from the mermaids I learned that the Neverland could be mine if I wished. All need I to do was simply claim it. For once in my eschewed life, I did not have to threaten anyone, did not have to burn down a village or slay the governor to gain that which I desired. I could just...have it."
"Seems far too simple," Wendy thought aloud.
"I had the same notion," Hook replied. "And it was not without merit, as the mermaids rather flippantly mentioned toward the end of their spiel that the island could just as easily be claimed by another should they stumble upon it as I had. 'Twas my duty, as the feared and notorious pirate captain, to defend the land from appropriation."
Wendy could anticipate where this story was advancing. She heard the grimness begin to return to Hook's voice.
"I was terribly foolish and arrogant then, Wendy, I see that now" he sighed. "Understand though that I had scarcely a cause not to be. I took my power and freedom for granted and I reveled in it. I could come and go as I pleased from my own secret little realm. Take off one morning to pillage a whole Caribbean fleet and then disappear without a trace, retreating back here as if to a mother's warm protective breast. It was the perfect arrangement. But alas, you know what it is they say about all good things and their untimely dénouements..."
"Then...Peter arrived," Wendy offered warily.
"'Arrived'," Hook snorted. "The Boy barreled into this world like a cocky fireball. And that is not just a clever metaphor either – for with Peter Pan came the Sun, at long last. That hideous daylight was blinding... shining so much brighter than usual just to spite me."
Hook rubbed his eyes as if channeling the irritation anew.
"As I was to later learn, the fairies – both here and in Kensington Gardens – had aided Peter's journey. So much for gratitude," he glowered, his internal ire aimed squarely upon that little fairy of the Royal Court. "In a regrettable stroke of ill-timing, he entered the island during one of my brief absences. The spectacles to which I returned were devastating. Sun shining, children dancing, flowers blooming...I can't remember ever being more terrified."
While quite unable to comprehend anyone's being 'terrified' of these things, Wendy could not help but feel profoundly an empathy for the dashing captain as he spoke with such forlorn sincerity. She strived not to pity him, for those that fear such splendid little miracles as flowers and children ought to be pitied. Instead she tried to imagine herself in a life lived as his, and see if she too would not emerge from it craving darkness and shunning the merry. Ah, indeed, she imagined she would.
Hook's voice usurped her contemplations. "Of course, the Boy had to be disposed of. How difficult could it be? He was only but an ignorant child – no sense of approach or prudence whatsoever. But sadly, what he lacked in warfare savvy he made up for twofold in his infuriating ability to fly. And, most upsetting of all, he had the entire island as his ally."
"Even the mermaids?"
"Aye," Hook replied flatly. "Despite that his coming greatly reduced their power and roving space, he managed to cast such a spell over them that they followed him readily. 'Twas I who was once more the outcast. In my own bloody kingdom."
He went mum again, icily, and Wendy could plainly recognize that he was sailing upon seas long circumvented. She presumed he had never before spoken to a soul of these events. Perhaps that was what he needed all along.
"Please go on, James," she urged him gently. "What did he do?"
His jaw tightened as he saw the words he was about to speak well ahead of him.
"A duel," he drawled cagily. "I challenged him. Under the stipulation, of course, that it be a fair fight. No flying. The victor retains Neverland whilst the loser must leave forever. I can still see the smug little grin he gave me as he accepted. Dawn at Marooner's Rock. We shook hands, chose our seconds and weapons and other such formalities...I daresay the entire island turned out for our spar, to witness their own decisive fate. I never considered for a moment that..." Hook trailed off and swallowed the remainder of his statement.
"Smee was my second, of course, and Peter had chosen for his – a bear cub," He spat.
"He didn't!" Wendy resisted the urge to laugh. Only a few short days before, she wouldn't have cared to try.
"It was repulsive the farce he made of this tradition. I demanded the duel be postponed immediately until he replaced his second, and to my utter astonishment, he quite proudly stated that nowhere in The Code was it precisely written that one could not choose an animal as its second. Not so much was it the fact that he even knew of The Code which dumbfounded me as it was that he had the audacity to tell ME what was written in it! I may not be as much a gentleman as most, but I have always adhered to The Code!"
His face began to flush, but he was swiftly calmed by Wendy's reassuring hand.
Taking a deep breath, he continued. "With much begrudging on my part alone, the duel commenced nonetheless. We took our salutes and our 'en gardes', and I instigated the first lunge, which he parried quite effectively, I am loath to admit. In fact, his entire technique was quite good," he forced the hideous words through his teeth with narrowed eyes.
"We engaged for quite some time; lunge-parry-riposte, lunge-parry-riposte, and so on over and over again until I began to feel as though I was on marionette strings. It was incomprehensible – how could I be so unswervingly matched by this child? At a certain point, he even feigned a yawn, which every one of our spectators found so highly amusing. A blind rage consumed me then – the first true hatred I had felt for the Boy, and I silently wished to myself that I had proposed a fight to the DEATH. It quickly occurred to me that, should I lose, my precious island would fall not only into his grimy hands but those imbeciles guffawing at my expense as well. No, I would not have it..."
A grimness washed over the pirate as these memories enshrouded him fully now, and Wendy could only remain nearby and watch it happen.
"I advanced on him more feverishly than ever, giving him nary a chance to deflect one attack before having to ward off the next one. In time, I had him retreated almost flush to the rock wall, and once his back made contact with it, he was taken quite by surprise. I used the brief respite to my advantage, and I came at him with a fierce prime, knocking his rapier from his hand and restraining him against the rock with the tip of my own."
Hook recreated the move with relish, flailing his mangled arm about the air as if his hand were still appended. He could almost see Peter once more quivering behind the point of his blade.
"Those braying fools observing us were now quite hushed. Pan just stood and trembled. 'Do you yield?' I asked him. He said nothing, only continued to tremble. Of course, his second could not very well yield for him. Stupid boy. At last I had wiped that surly grin from his face, but this was not quite gratifying enough. I wanted his blood. I wrapped my fingers about his throat and drew back my weapon, bracing for the kill..."
Wendy gave ear ardently.
"But then, I heard Smee's voice cry out amongst the silence... 'Bad form, Captain!'" Hook's brow furrowed. "Bad form indeed. Though did this ruffian truly merit Good form? Aye, I decided if I were ever to defy The Code, it would be for a far worthier opponent than Peter Pan. I would not give him the satisfaction of falling to my dishonor. I could not live with myself if I knew I could only best an adolescent boy by cheating."
A languid sigh came and went. "Thus it was with much reluctance that I released him from my hold, retrieved his rapier and handed it back to him respectably, all the while keeping my blade on guard. He took his sword very meekly in his hands and continued to quake and quiver against the rock. 'Please, please don't kill me, Sir!' he began to snivel. I rather thought he might start crying! I had never seen him so timid and helpless, like a lame fawn. Now 'twas my turn to laugh, and I did so, most heartily, as did my bosun. I caught Smee's eye and we had ourselves quite a jolly interlude."
"Then, all of a sudden, I saw my bosun's eyes grow large and troubled. I had just enough time to react to his shriek of 'Look out!' to spin round and see the flash of Peter's rapier cut through the air to pierce the inside of my attacking wrist and pin it to the rock. It sliced clear through the other side of my arm, and it just hung there, impotently."
"Bad form!" Wendy gasped in disgust.
Hook shook his head bitterly. "I would very much like to think so, my beauty, but alas, he had not yielded, and I was fully en garde. 'Twas not altogether illegal. Unwarranted and unsporting, perhaps. But passably within The Code. Blast him."
He paused and drew in another steadying breath. "I heard Smee call out and attempt to approach and end the bout, but the abruptness of his action spooked the bear cub and he was promptly accosted." Hook chortled bitterly. "Already I had lost all feeling in my right hand, which was the only merciful part of it – that the pain so quickly gave way to numbness. But the sight of my own blood quickly brought me to sickness, and I......I heaved right there upon the rock, in front of the entire island, including my own men. I slumped to the ground, my arm still dangling from the embedded sword, and all I remember hearing besides the beating of my own overburdened heart was that of Peter's grating laughter..."
Hook's good hand, which had been blithely clutching Wendy's shoulder, now unwittingly furled into a tight fist, taking a clump of her hair with it. Wendy froze up, rapt by his narrative.
The pirate's eyes closed tight. "Pan crouched down before me, attempting to look me in the face. 'Do you yield?' he asked me, though it was no so much a legitimate question as it was a mockery. As I had done, he handed me back my rapier, though in my left hand, and actually invited me back into the duel. 'You can fight with your left, can't you, Captain?" he laughed. 'Well,' he said without waiting for my reply, 'you will have to learn how, won't you?' I tried to swing at him with my survived arm, but I was far too weak. He laughed at me again and held my dead hand against the rock to try and pry his sword from my wrist, but it would not come gamely, and so he twisted and rotated and bent the blade, which only drove it deeper into my flesh and bone, until, ultimately, my hand simply snapped off into his, and I fell onto my back upon the ground.
"I had just enough wherewithal before I fainted away to see Peter fly into the air and display my shorn hand for all his ravenous witnesses as if a trophy. Including one very eager spectator quietly basking in the morning sunlight just outside the Castle – that infernal crocodile – into whose jaws, as all know, Pan threw my hand. The was the final image seared into my conscious as I went black."
He took a heavy breath and opened his eyes slowly. "When next I saw daylight, I was aboard my ship. And I was a blank slate. I hadn't a single inkling as to where I had come from or even what my name was. Outside, the sun was shining bright in the center of the sky, birds were gaily singing beyond my windows, and all of Neverland was immersed in celebration of Peter Pan's victory. I could think of nothing else to do but get as far away from that place as possible. I ordered my crew to set sail for the horizon, but no matter how many times we tried, we always came back to the island. I was trapped. I was no more than some faceless, nameless, generic villain against whom Peter Pan could achieve all his 'heroic' feats, much to the delight of silly children all over the world. Somehow, he had me locked in this gilded cage like a feral beast, with no hope for escape other than with his own demise. Which of course has never come to pass. I imagine it may never be so..."
An uninvited little lump appeared in Hook's throat, and he turned his face shamefully away. "So, you see...Peter did not just take my hand. He took everything from me, Wendy. He took my dignity, my reputation, my freedom... my very identity."
He could speak no more. There was not very much left to be said anyhow. His head hung to the side and his entire being slumped into the couch. He was beat and defeated all over again. So dreadfully alone.
But wait – was he truly?
He felt Wendy's loving arms come around his neck and a soft kiss pressed against his cheek. At last, he turned his face to meet hers, and although she was smiling reassuringly, her eyes were moist with tears. Never had he been so grateful in all his life than he was at that moment to have this angelic beauty gazing uncritically down upon him. He swung his arms around her desperately, pulling her into his needful flesh. She cradled him in her arms and pulled his head into her breast, stroking and intertwining her fingers amongst his rich curls. She felt a sudden wetness against her skin, and she knew he was weeping. This made her smile. Such a burdensome weight had at long last been lifted off him.
They remained here for as long as was necessary, until Hook had calmed and lay loosely within her embrace. He placed an appreciative kiss upon the swell of Wendy's bosom before he felt obliged to speak.
"Wendy," he said softly.
"Yes, James?"
"Given that the subject has been raised...might I ask, were you ever able to speak with Peter in the jungle earlier this day?"
He did not see Wendy's countenance suddenly darken at the mention of that loathsome boy's name, but he did feel her hold on him tighten strictly.
"Don't you worry about him," she muttered curtly. "He knows all that he needs to."
I'm baaaaaack! Wheeeeeeewwwwww! Doncha just HATE writer's block?! LOL! I know I do! I can't believe this took so long to write! Oh well...It's here now and that's all that matters! sigh Hope it was worth the wait.... :-P (And I can't promise that the next chapter won't take just as long...please bear with me!)
Another MEGAWARNING for you younger and more sensitive readers out there – more NC-17 stuff in here, and decidedly "dirtier" too, but as always, it serves a specific purpose. I do not write smut just for smut's sake.
Again, I have no ownership of any of the characters or actors who portrayed them...but, ooh, the possibilities...wringing hands (heheheh)
Here's Chapter XVI.... More comments please, good or bad! :-)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
XVI. IN A NEW LIGHT
She wished to hear none of it.
As she climbed her way onto the stern of the Jolly Roger, she was fully cognizant of the ebbing sunlight, but she wanted none of the Captain's vitriol. His words were as foreseeable as the approaching night, as she had played them over and again in her head on her journey back to the ship, and she had no interest in listening to them aloud. No more scoldings, no more admonishments. She'd had quite enough of that.
It was high time to embrace the fate which he had handed to her and sculpt it into a practical reality. She was no longer innocent little Wendy Darling. That pretense was quite over.
Amid a web of masts and rigging she stood obscured, her eyes settling upon the black figure reclining at the bow, spyglass in hand, searching the horizon for his wayfaring maiden. Though as well as keeping watch for Wendy's return, the Captain himself observed the peculiar mood hanging over the island with a silent intrigue. He sat back in a chair, his feet propped up against the railing before him and his spyglass ever at the ready should something of interest stir within these stagnant surroundings. That strange, frigid breeze danced amongst his inky curls, and the twilight's melancholy glow made his eyes to sparkle like two blue beacons. At that moment, he was very much the epitome of the dashing heroes about whom Wendy had read in those bawdy novels.
At least, her mind's eye would favor him so.
Wendy crept deftly across the ship's deck so as not to be noticed by the handful of pirates and watchers milling about. There needn't be any clamor as to her return. She would present herself once again to the Captain on her own terms.
Hook had not wavered an inch during her entire approach, as if locked frozen in a helplessness which he could not comprehend. When he had re- embarked on his ship some hours earlier, he solemnly relayed to Smee the episode in the jungle, to which his bosun cautiously asked:
"Cap'n, forgive me, but...if you knew Wendy was going after Pan, why didn't you follow 'er back to his hideout?"
The Captain only stood unblinking at the old man, his face devoid of all expression, as if he had not heard the question. Thus was when he picked up his spyglass and settled upon the bow for the remainder of the daylight.
And there he remained, as ever unbrokenly, as Wendy strolled forward behind him. Not until she was well within his periphery did he take notice of her, his head darting abruptly in her direction.
"Wendy..." He sat forward as if preparing to stand, but he was stayed immediately by Wendy's hand, which swept up to his mouth and alighted there decisively. With not another word, Wendy took the spyglass from him, setting it aside, then swung a leg over him and perched upon his lap. And before Hook could even think a thing, Wendy took his face in her hands and kissed him feverishly.
The Captain had not truly planned on reprimanding Wendy very harshly for her tardiness, but if he had, even then he would have been swayed quite easily by Wendy's sudden and delightfully bold gesture. He pulled her in closer to him. And though Wendy was evidently still quite green when it came to these adult matters, Hook thoroughly appreciated her efforts nonetheless.
When at last she liberated him from her attack to take a breath, Hook could not quite help but smirk.
"Well, well, well..." he chuckled, endlessly amused and fairly smug at what he considered the girl's inevitable want for him.
But as I have said, Wendy wished not a word from him this night – especially not any loutish gloating. She quieted him straight away with her lips, allowing herself to listen only to his greedy sighing. And so he let his hand do his talking instead, gliding underneath her skirt and up her bare thigh, and it quickly became Wendy's turn to sigh as he dug his thumb into the crease where her hip met her pelvic bone. She was sparked at once, and her arms constricted around his neck.
She'd returned to the state whence she found herself before Peter had interrupted them with his juvenile tantrum in the forest – on the cusp of barely contained rapture at Hook's overbearing will, and she squeezed the Captain's thighs tightly betwixt her own. If he did not take her immediately, to rub out that torturously fantastic itch inside her which he had induced the previous night, she knew she would go absolutely mad. And the telltale expanding beneath Hook's britches told them both loud and clear that her satiation would be imminent.
However, Hook suddenly pulled her away and sat forward.
"Not here, darling," he whispered huskily.
If not there, then somewhere – anywhere – and soon, was Wendy's thinking. Taking the pirate by the hand, she rose and lifted him to his feet as well. She started anxiously aft, but Hook stood firm, practically yanking her back in place. This made her instantly worried – did he no longer want her? The truth of it was, Hook could not very well have his dogs see him being dragged about the ship by a female as if some obedient pet. Though he could not very well disclose this to Wendy either, for he was quite conscious of her feelings about Pride. But he would have to come up with something to ease that nasty crease presently in her forehead.
Forcing a pleasant smile, Hook strolled toward the perplexed girl. "A lady should never be made to escort a gentleman."
He held his elbow out to her graciously, and he could see the relief take over her person as she took his arm with glee. Their promenade across the ship and toward his cabin commenced thusly. The Captain opened the door and showed his guest inside, but before stepping in himself, he shot a strict look to his watchmen in the crow's nest. The put-upon subordinates imagined their shift would be a long one this night.
Scarcely before he had time to latch the cabin door behind him, Wendy had the Captain pinned to the pine and smothered in her blistering kisses. Though not terribly inconvenienced by this, Hook nonetheless tried to move himself and the girl toward his bedchamber, and he was right astonished at the effort this took! This diminutive pillar of passion, biting at his neck and chest, would barely let him budge. They had gotten no further than just beyond the alcove of the entrance toward the foot of Hook's fainting couch when suddenly Wendy clasped his collar and, with all her might, shoved the strapping pirate onto his back upon the plush settee.
Normally, and not unexpectedly, Hook's standard reaction to such an affront would be to immediately spring back up madly thrashing his claw. But it was quite the contrary now, as he found himself immensely sparked by this fiery blossom bursting forth from her hitherto prim and reticent bud.
For all he could distinguish, she might have very well been out to slit his throat. Perhaps he should keep his hook at hand yet. Either way, he would thoroughly enjoy the fight.
A fiendish grin spread across his lips as she climbed atop him once more, and he sat up hastily to meet her, devastating her with ravenous kisses of his own. He pressed his lips vigorously to every accessible patch of skin, all the while his hand temptingly lingering beneath her hemline. Wendy was dire to feel his mouth upon her breasts again. Without waiting for his instigation, she stood to her knees and wrenched her meddlesome nightdress from her body and hurled it to the floor. Both her hands came to the side of Hook's head, and she eagerly inclined her chest to his face, enticing the pirate with her nipple. But he would not take it straight away, only wickedly teasing her by flicking at it with the tip of his tongue. He chuckled softly and delighted at her wretched whimpering for his touch until at last he took it heartily betwixt his teeth, at which time she gave out such a euphoric moan, and very soon her flesh was so splendidly awash in Hook's sultry breath.
Without thinking – though, truly, there was little room for thinking at this juncture – Wendy's fingers once more found Hook's ruff, and with one adrenaline-fueled rush, she tore his shirt open down the middle. Thus was when Hook's primal instincts finally ignited, and in a silvery flash, his claw darted toward Wendy's throat, but with an equally inherent gasp was Wendy able to catch his talon at the base just before it buried itself into her defenseless flesh.
All became tense and still at once, save for their staggered breathing, as both pairs of eyes fixed heavily on the menacing appendage at the end of Hook's right arm. Soon their respective gazes found each other's, and it was quite evident the sentiments plaguing their minds.
Had they really not yet conquered these emotive hurtles? Did she still not trust him? Was he truly harboring mortal tendencies toward her?
Hook rued his haste at once, and his eyes begged for Wendy to believe that he would never cause her harm. Oh, and how she longed to believe him. She needed to. If he were to turn on her in the end as well, the desolation would be unbearable, and she would rather he go ahead and tear her to bits than have to endure any more of it.
She loosened her grip on the base of his claw, eyeing it sharply as it continued its path toward her skin, only at a thicker pace. Her eyes shut tight as the cruel tip pressed softly into her cheek. She said a silent prayer that, whatever he was planning to do, he would be quick and merciful.
She felt the blade glide almost liquid-like toward her mouth, where it outlined the shape of her lip. A quiver shot down her spine, though even she could not determine if this was in fear or pleasure...or perhaps both working hand in hand. Now the claw moved over her chin and across her jawline, then in such a wonderfully perilous proximity to her jugular. She arced her neck back, as if offering her throat for the cutting, and breathed deeply as the claw slithered ever further down to her dampened collarbone. Her hand still upon its base, she guided it over her breast, gasping as the Captain tweaked her vulnerable nipple with the blade. Downward still the horrible instrument progressed, and Wendy's whole being reeled at the sensation of the cold steel against her burning flesh. At the last it came over her stomach, grazing her belly button, then farther below, until Hook pressed it flat and taut against her femininity.
She could put it off no longer. Swiping his hook aside, both her hands snatched at his trousers, tugging desperately at the buttons. Her zeal was wholly contagious, and Hook fervently aided her endeavor. It seemed an agonizing eternity before his britches gaped open and his swollen manhood was finally liberated. Nary an additional moment could be wasted now. Placing her hands firmly upon his shoulders, griping his torn shirtsleeves, Wendy rose to her knees. With the skilled guidance of Hook's hand and claw grasping her hips, she lowered herself slowly onto his starving erection. Old pains were reawakened as he slid into her, but this was quite naught compared with the ache in her very soul for his intoxicating possession of her body. She gasped sharply with each swivel of her hips to gain more of him, and Hook let out several strenuous grunts as he tried in vain to buck his hips into her.
Tears began to well up in Wendy's eyes as she continued to work her way onto him fully, to find that magnificent itch once more, but she could do neither. Why was it not happening? What was wrong?
And then, Hook shut his eyes and fell onto his back upon the couch, taking Wendy with him. His head had barely hit the cushion before an impish tingle suddenly engulfed Wendy's lower half. Ah, there it was! Resting her palms against Hook's stomach, she straightened slightly and grappled to hold onto the sensation. She rocked her hips violently, commanding her body to swallow every last inch of him.
She saw through her inflamed eyes the Captain arch his back and cry out beneath her. Oh, was this how he had seen her the previous evening? Only now, he was at her mercy. She watched him writhe and quiver against the couch with a wicked smile, and her fingers found their way to the leather strap across his heaving chest and wrapped themselves around it for leverage. As if an Amazon championing a mighty steed, Wendy gyrated grandly against him, completely bathing him in her sodden passion. She leaned her head back and wailed triumphantly into the Neverland heavens, to Mother Nature herself in defiance of her indolent progression, to her officious and repressive parents – especially that blasted Aunt Millicent – but most of all to the Boy who would not ever grow up.
'I never should have brought you here...'
She guffawed.
'Do you even remember how to fly?'
I fly now, boy, on my own!
'Your captain is waiting for you...'
To lift me up from whence you have thrown me down!
'A privilege you should extend to Hook, but not me...'
You would never know how to appreciate it!
'I can no longer save you...'
Who needs it anyway?
'I think it is your biggest pretend...'
No more!
Let it be known here and now, she wanted to scream, that Wendy Moira Angela Darling is NOT a child. She requires no chivalrous rescuing, no enigmatic little gamin to hold her hand. She is the true Center of the Universe. She is the queen of her own destiny.
Wendy Darling is a WOMAN.
A spark, like electricity, shot up from the tips of Wendy's toes all the way to where her and Hook's bodies joined, and hence it surged forward into the Captain's flesh as if lightning, triggering such a thunderous tempest throughout him the likes of which he had never known in all his centuries worth of conquests. Wave after wave crashed into both their beings to their very cores, and Hook was certain he felt even his ship lurch in reply. Aye, all the gods above spoke at once in humbled admiration of this truly inspiring show of concord, and awed they were even further as Hook sent the gasping torrent charging back to his loins, pitching upward sharply and exploding within Wendy in a hot geyser of ecstasy. A finer show mighty Thor himself could not have achieved.
As the final embers of their splendor fizzled and dissipated overhead, Wendy collapsed onto Hook's chest, brushing her lips sweetly against his sweat-beaded skin. Hook lay depleted but not without smirking poise.
"Good show, my dear," he cooed lavishly, allowing himself to slip with grace from Wendy's body.
She did not reply, her mouth instead carrying on in its gentle study of his chest. Reaching inside his shirtsleeve, she unlatched the strap of his harness, allowing him at last to draw in an unimpeded breath. She kissed softly the reddened impression it had left on his flesh. Although thoroughly sapped herself, her benevolence seemingly knew nary a bound as she implored the Captain upright in order that she could remove his spoilt shirt and oppressive brace. In kind, Hook kicked off the last of his trousers, and they were thus able to fully recline together anew as Nature bore them.
The finished arm of the blithely dozing pirate held Wendy in its crook, the mangled one resting on his belly. Its mass of scars soon found themselves under the fond caress of the girl's wandering fingertips. Hook withstood the urge to deny her, allowing himself wholly to accept her touch upon his horrendous defect. They remained in this tranquility for a time, until Wendy, watching closely her fingers outline the unpigmented grooves carved into his stump, could hold her tongue no longer.
"James..."
His eyes remained closed, but the side of his mouth lifted at her utterance of his name again.
"Mm?"
"How did he do it?"
He opened one eye. "How did who do what?"
"Peter...how did he take your hand?"
A bothered snort met her question promptly. "Oh, must we taint these dear moments with talk of him?"
"But I feel I must know," Wendy beseeched, raising her head from his chest. "Please tell me, and I promise I shan't ever broach the subject again."
And how a slave he was to her beseeching. Besides, he considered, this could prove to be a terrific opportunity to lure Wendy against that brat once and for all.
"Very well, my sweet," Hook acceded. "If you really must know."
Satisfied, Wendy laid her head once more upon his chest, settling in for the undoubtedly gripping tale.
"I suppose that in order that I should convey the story correctly," Hook began, "I should first impart to you a bit of knowledge which you may find rather unexpected..."
"Yes?" Wendy asked eagerly.
"Despite what you might have assumed, 'twas I who inhabited the Neverland long before Peter Pan ever stepped his grubby little feet upon it."
"Truly?" Wendy lifted her head again.
"Oh yes," he replied. "You affect surprise now, but methinks you might have known it all along."
"How so?"
He stared off wistfully. "Tell me, darling; prior to your first journey to Neverland, when you would regale your brothers and anyone at all who would listen with your thrilling and legendary stories, of whose adventures would you recount?"
Wendy searched her muddled past. "Why...yours!"
"Aye...Hook's," he grinned with a nod. "You had nary in inkling of Pan's existence until he had alighted your windowsill that fateful night. But always did you know of Hook."
"Yes, I suppose I did," Wendy said, laying her head back down. "How extraordinary...that all this time it was you and not Peter who visited my dreams and stories."
"Because I have been here longest. Because my name is emblazoned deeper upon these lands and seas than Peter's."
"Oh, you must tell me how you came to Neverland as well!"
"Of course I shall tell you, for 'tis also part of the story," Hook said. "Though, truth be told, I don't actually remember anything of my life outside of Neverland."
"Nothing at all?"
"Not a thing," he sighed. "Not even my own name."
"Your own name?" Wendy inquired.
"Aye. Hook is not my true name."
"Oh," she considered it. "No, I imagine it would not be. How dreadful that you can't remember."
"All my memories read like an unfinished novel...the only surviving chapters being those which took place here." He strived not to sound so bloody pitiful to her. "I do, however, have but one recollection of my days on the Mainland..."
"Oh, please!" Wendy exclaimed keenly.
"Though the incident occurs to me as if a letter someone else had written relaying the story. I only see the words but no pictures...I can't even be truly sure it ever happened, but it must have..."
"Do try your best. I am frightfully curious," she encouraged him.
"I was strolling, one day, through Kensington Gardens..."
"Why, I live quite near there!"
"A mysterious place, you know. By some means which are no longer clear to me, I happened to rescue a fairy from some ghastly peril..."
"A fairy!" Wendy almost laughed.
Hook smiled at her unawareness. "Why, certainly, my dear. The Gardens are full of them."
"I say..." she beamed. "And you saved one!"
"Appalling, isn't it?" he teased. "It must have been entirely inadvertent! Nevertheless, it happened, and as I was soon to learn, this particular little sprite was a member of the Royal Fairy Court...and a direct descendant of the goddess Leucothea, as my luck would have it."
"How opportune for you!"
"Indeed, for in return of my assistance, the fairy gave to me not only immunity from shipwrecks for the remainder of my sea-faring days, but also a special potion which, taken only once, would render me completely indestructible for the duration of a single day."
"Fantastic," Wendy cooed. "Did you use it?"
"I imagine I did. I certainly don't have it now..." He tossed a stern glance to his incomplete arm.
Wendy bit her lip sheepishly. "And you can recall nothing before or since your brush with the fairy in Kensington Gardens?"
"Quite not," Hook lamented. "So many yesterdays, my darling...and every other one just a blank page."
She gave him a little squeeze. "I should like, one day, to be able to fill up those pages for you again."
He stroked her hair. "Well, you are the Storyteller. What would you have the pages say?"
She considered the question. "Tell me about Peter and your life here in Neverland, and perhaps something shall be brought to light."
"Perhaps." Hook was doubtful. "The details of my first arrival on this island are anybody's guess really, though I suspect that my own disillusionment with Reality might have shown me the way."
"Was your life so unsatisfactory?"
"I was an outcast," Hook scowled. "I may not remember many things, but I do know that. Each turn I took, I was shunned and discarded. Everything I wanted – everything I had – I could only obtain through force. I suppose that is how I came to piracy. It seemed my destiny all along."
"Surely you found your proper function then. Captain James Hook – the only man whom Barbeque ever feared." Wendy nuzzled her cheek into his neck, as if with pride to have herself been seduced by such an infamous figure.
"Ah but you see, my dear, though legend and bedtime stories extol the name of Hook, I was not yet he in my glory days. I was feared by my rightful name. Or perhaps by none at all. It mattered not by which name they feared me – just that they feared me. There must have come a time, eventually, when I grew weary of...wandering. I was feared, yes. But I was not respected. And I was never accepted. A life of depravity only yields so much gratification before it simply hollows you out and leaves you to die. Or, worse yet, to live."
He went quiet for a long moment. Wendy said nothing despite her burning interest, and only silently hoped he would find the spirit to continue.
At last, the pirate found his way back to the story and sighed. "And so, it was with a jolly happenstance that I stumbled upon the Neverland. Such a gorgeously macabre place, Wendy. Nothing at all as you know it today. A land of perpetual melancholy, where the Sun never rose more than a few meters from the horizon and only for mere minutes a day. A terrain of such hushed solitude and apathy..."
Wendy discreetly wrinkled her nose at these destitute images which Hook painted, but he spoke with such a nostalgic grin.
He drew in a refreshing breath. "I had never felt more at home...so utterly assimilated. It was beautiful."
At the first, she could not quite imagine how this could be. But when she considered the source, she decided it would make perfect sense how a man like Hook could find beauty in misery. They were kindred spirits for him.
"And the most wonderful aspect of all," he continued, now in a far merrier mood, "No children! Oh, there were of course the Indian children, but so much more like miniature grown-ups they were, as their elders would instruct them thus.
"The first beings of whose acquaintance I made here," he went on, "were the mermaids. They roamed freely then, as there was no Sun to limit their travel. Really they are the last remnants of those more contented times. We connected at once, myself and the dark creatures. We understood each other perfectly."
He spoke as if reminiscing of an old lover, which put Wendy off a touch. She placed a subtle stroke upon the side of his neck with her fingertips to remind him as to whom he presently held in his arms.
Hook caught on with bemusement. "Make no mistake, darling, that although the wily females were most helpful to me, they would not have thought twice of dragging me to dear Davy Jones if I were to get too close!" Wendy softened. "You see, 'twas from the mermaids I learned that the Neverland could be mine if I wished. All need I to do was simply claim it. For once in my eschewed life, I did not have to threaten anyone, did not have to burn down a village or slay the governor to gain that which I desired. I could just...have it."
"Seems far too simple," Wendy thought aloud.
"I had the same notion," Hook replied. "And it was not without merit, as the mermaids rather flippantly mentioned toward the end of their spiel that the island could just as easily be claimed by another should they stumble upon it as I had. 'Twas my duty, as the feared and notorious pirate captain, to defend the land from appropriation."
Wendy could anticipate where this story was advancing. She heard the grimness begin to return to Hook's voice.
"I was terribly foolish and arrogant then, Wendy, I see that now" he sighed. "Understand though that I had scarcely a cause not to be. I took my power and freedom for granted and I reveled in it. I could come and go as I pleased from my own secret little realm. Take off one morning to pillage a whole Caribbean fleet and then disappear without a trace, retreating back here as if to a mother's warm protective breast. It was the perfect arrangement. But alas, you know what it is they say about all good things and their untimely dénouements..."
"Then...Peter arrived," Wendy offered warily.
"'Arrived'," Hook snorted. "The Boy barreled into this world like a cocky fireball. And that is not just a clever metaphor either – for with Peter Pan came the Sun, at long last. That hideous daylight was blinding... shining so much brighter than usual just to spite me."
Hook rubbed his eyes as if channeling the irritation anew.
"As I was to later learn, the fairies – both here and in Kensington Gardens – had aided Peter's journey. So much for gratitude," he glowered, his internal ire aimed squarely upon that little fairy of the Royal Court. "In a regrettable stroke of ill-timing, he entered the island during one of my brief absences. The spectacles to which I returned were devastating. Sun shining, children dancing, flowers blooming...I can't remember ever being more terrified."
While quite unable to comprehend anyone's being 'terrified' of these things, Wendy could not help but feel profoundly an empathy for the dashing captain as he spoke with such forlorn sincerity. She strived not to pity him, for those that fear such splendid little miracles as flowers and children ought to be pitied. Instead she tried to imagine herself in a life lived as his, and see if she too would not emerge from it craving darkness and shunning the merry. Ah, indeed, she imagined she would.
Hook's voice usurped her contemplations. "Of course, the Boy had to be disposed of. How difficult could it be? He was only but an ignorant child – no sense of approach or prudence whatsoever. But sadly, what he lacked in warfare savvy he made up for twofold in his infuriating ability to fly. And, most upsetting of all, he had the entire island as his ally."
"Even the mermaids?"
"Aye," Hook replied flatly. "Despite that his coming greatly reduced their power and roving space, he managed to cast such a spell over them that they followed him readily. 'Twas I who was once more the outcast. In my own bloody kingdom."
He went mum again, icily, and Wendy could plainly recognize that he was sailing upon seas long circumvented. She presumed he had never before spoken to a soul of these events. Perhaps that was what he needed all along.
"Please go on, James," she urged him gently. "What did he do?"
His jaw tightened as he saw the words he was about to speak well ahead of him.
"A duel," he drawled cagily. "I challenged him. Under the stipulation, of course, that it be a fair fight. No flying. The victor retains Neverland whilst the loser must leave forever. I can still see the smug little grin he gave me as he accepted. Dawn at Marooner's Rock. We shook hands, chose our seconds and weapons and other such formalities...I daresay the entire island turned out for our spar, to witness their own decisive fate. I never considered for a moment that..." Hook trailed off and swallowed the remainder of his statement.
"Smee was my second, of course, and Peter had chosen for his – a bear cub," He spat.
"He didn't!" Wendy resisted the urge to laugh. Only a few short days before, she wouldn't have cared to try.
"It was repulsive the farce he made of this tradition. I demanded the duel be postponed immediately until he replaced his second, and to my utter astonishment, he quite proudly stated that nowhere in The Code was it precisely written that one could not choose an animal as its second. Not so much was it the fact that he even knew of The Code which dumbfounded me as it was that he had the audacity to tell ME what was written in it! I may not be as much a gentleman as most, but I have always adhered to The Code!"
His face began to flush, but he was swiftly calmed by Wendy's reassuring hand.
Taking a deep breath, he continued. "With much begrudging on my part alone, the duel commenced nonetheless. We took our salutes and our 'en gardes', and I instigated the first lunge, which he parried quite effectively, I am loath to admit. In fact, his entire technique was quite good," he forced the hideous words through his teeth with narrowed eyes.
"We engaged for quite some time; lunge-parry-riposte, lunge-parry-riposte, and so on over and over again until I began to feel as though I was on marionette strings. It was incomprehensible – how could I be so unswervingly matched by this child? At a certain point, he even feigned a yawn, which every one of our spectators found so highly amusing. A blind rage consumed me then – the first true hatred I had felt for the Boy, and I silently wished to myself that I had proposed a fight to the DEATH. It quickly occurred to me that, should I lose, my precious island would fall not only into his grimy hands but those imbeciles guffawing at my expense as well. No, I would not have it..."
A grimness washed over the pirate as these memories enshrouded him fully now, and Wendy could only remain nearby and watch it happen.
"I advanced on him more feverishly than ever, giving him nary a chance to deflect one attack before having to ward off the next one. In time, I had him retreated almost flush to the rock wall, and once his back made contact with it, he was taken quite by surprise. I used the brief respite to my advantage, and I came at him with a fierce prime, knocking his rapier from his hand and restraining him against the rock with the tip of my own."
Hook recreated the move with relish, flailing his mangled arm about the air as if his hand were still appended. He could almost see Peter once more quivering behind the point of his blade.
"Those braying fools observing us were now quite hushed. Pan just stood and trembled. 'Do you yield?' I asked him. He said nothing, only continued to tremble. Of course, his second could not very well yield for him. Stupid boy. At last I had wiped that surly grin from his face, but this was not quite gratifying enough. I wanted his blood. I wrapped my fingers about his throat and drew back my weapon, bracing for the kill..."
Wendy gave ear ardently.
"But then, I heard Smee's voice cry out amongst the silence... 'Bad form, Captain!'" Hook's brow furrowed. "Bad form indeed. Though did this ruffian truly merit Good form? Aye, I decided if I were ever to defy The Code, it would be for a far worthier opponent than Peter Pan. I would not give him the satisfaction of falling to my dishonor. I could not live with myself if I knew I could only best an adolescent boy by cheating."
A languid sigh came and went. "Thus it was with much reluctance that I released him from my hold, retrieved his rapier and handed it back to him respectably, all the while keeping my blade on guard. He took his sword very meekly in his hands and continued to quake and quiver against the rock. 'Please, please don't kill me, Sir!' he began to snivel. I rather thought he might start crying! I had never seen him so timid and helpless, like a lame fawn. Now 'twas my turn to laugh, and I did so, most heartily, as did my bosun. I caught Smee's eye and we had ourselves quite a jolly interlude."
"Then, all of a sudden, I saw my bosun's eyes grow large and troubled. I had just enough time to react to his shriek of 'Look out!' to spin round and see the flash of Peter's rapier cut through the air to pierce the inside of my attacking wrist and pin it to the rock. It sliced clear through the other side of my arm, and it just hung there, impotently."
"Bad form!" Wendy gasped in disgust.
Hook shook his head bitterly. "I would very much like to think so, my beauty, but alas, he had not yielded, and I was fully en garde. 'Twas not altogether illegal. Unwarranted and unsporting, perhaps. But passably within The Code. Blast him."
He paused and drew in another steadying breath. "I heard Smee call out and attempt to approach and end the bout, but the abruptness of his action spooked the bear cub and he was promptly accosted." Hook chortled bitterly. "Already I had lost all feeling in my right hand, which was the only merciful part of it – that the pain so quickly gave way to numbness. But the sight of my own blood quickly brought me to sickness, and I......I heaved right there upon the rock, in front of the entire island, including my own men. I slumped to the ground, my arm still dangling from the embedded sword, and all I remember hearing besides the beating of my own overburdened heart was that of Peter's grating laughter..."
Hook's good hand, which had been blithely clutching Wendy's shoulder, now unwittingly furled into a tight fist, taking a clump of her hair with it. Wendy froze up, rapt by his narrative.
The pirate's eyes closed tight. "Pan crouched down before me, attempting to look me in the face. 'Do you yield?' he asked me, though it was no so much a legitimate question as it was a mockery. As I had done, he handed me back my rapier, though in my left hand, and actually invited me back into the duel. 'You can fight with your left, can't you, Captain?" he laughed. 'Well,' he said without waiting for my reply, 'you will have to learn how, won't you?' I tried to swing at him with my survived arm, but I was far too weak. He laughed at me again and held my dead hand against the rock to try and pry his sword from my wrist, but it would not come gamely, and so he twisted and rotated and bent the blade, which only drove it deeper into my flesh and bone, until, ultimately, my hand simply snapped off into his, and I fell onto my back upon the ground.
"I had just enough wherewithal before I fainted away to see Peter fly into the air and display my shorn hand for all his ravenous witnesses as if a trophy. Including one very eager spectator quietly basking in the morning sunlight just outside the Castle – that infernal crocodile – into whose jaws, as all know, Pan threw my hand. The was the final image seared into my conscious as I went black."
He took a heavy breath and opened his eyes slowly. "When next I saw daylight, I was aboard my ship. And I was a blank slate. I hadn't a single inkling as to where I had come from or even what my name was. Outside, the sun was shining bright in the center of the sky, birds were gaily singing beyond my windows, and all of Neverland was immersed in celebration of Peter Pan's victory. I could think of nothing else to do but get as far away from that place as possible. I ordered my crew to set sail for the horizon, but no matter how many times we tried, we always came back to the island. I was trapped. I was no more than some faceless, nameless, generic villain against whom Peter Pan could achieve all his 'heroic' feats, much to the delight of silly children all over the world. Somehow, he had me locked in this gilded cage like a feral beast, with no hope for escape other than with his own demise. Which of course has never come to pass. I imagine it may never be so..."
An uninvited little lump appeared in Hook's throat, and he turned his face shamefully away. "So, you see...Peter did not just take my hand. He took everything from me, Wendy. He took my dignity, my reputation, my freedom... my very identity."
He could speak no more. There was not very much left to be said anyhow. His head hung to the side and his entire being slumped into the couch. He was beat and defeated all over again. So dreadfully alone.
But wait – was he truly?
He felt Wendy's loving arms come around his neck and a soft kiss pressed against his cheek. At last, he turned his face to meet hers, and although she was smiling reassuringly, her eyes were moist with tears. Never had he been so grateful in all his life than he was at that moment to have this angelic beauty gazing uncritically down upon him. He swung his arms around her desperately, pulling her into his needful flesh. She cradled him in her arms and pulled his head into her breast, stroking and intertwining her fingers amongst his rich curls. She felt a sudden wetness against her skin, and she knew he was weeping. This made her smile. Such a burdensome weight had at long last been lifted off him.
They remained here for as long as was necessary, until Hook had calmed and lay loosely within her embrace. He placed an appreciative kiss upon the swell of Wendy's bosom before he felt obliged to speak.
"Wendy," he said softly.
"Yes, James?"
"Given that the subject has been raised...might I ask, were you ever able to speak with Peter in the jungle earlier this day?"
He did not see Wendy's countenance suddenly darken at the mention of that loathsome boy's name, but he did feel her hold on him tighten strictly.
"Don't you worry about him," she muttered curtly. "He knows all that he needs to."