"You're telling me that, with just the utterance of a peculiar phrase," Margot began, challengingly, "Someone could make me drop over dead. Simple as that?"
"I'm afraid so my dear," Hook replied.
Margot, feeling suddenly full and like maybe she should stay away from wine two nights in a row anyway, stood abruptly from the table to begin pacing. 17th century propriety well ground into him, Hook rose from his chair to stand in the same moment, not sitting back down even when she cast a thoroughly confused glance his way.
"Well, one thing I do remember from that book is that clapping can bring fairies back to life. Right?"
"Yes…" he hesitated, already feeling decidedly opposed to where she was going with this.
Killing the typical everyday pesky fairies of Neverland was one thing — they were hardly more than blasted gnats, though with a far more formidable bite, after all — but harming the first adult woman to arrive in Neverland in Lord knew how many decades? Hook still was not sure why this apparent fairy was sized in human proportions but, as a result, he was finding it a great deal harder to treat Margot the same as one of the incorrigible little flying sprites fluttering about elsewhere in Neverland.
"Then go ahead. Say it. Let's test this out." Her tone played it off as if the mere suggestion was ridiculous, she was so unbelieving of course. But again, from the moment Hook had suggested this new possibility an uncomfortable knife of pure certainty and knowing had been twisting in her guts. More than anything, Margot was feeling immediately desperate to disprove this preposterous theory.
Hook sighed, "Even if I do say it, I don't exactly have the capability of bringing you back." He pointed to his hook with his good hand. He couldn't exactly clap.
"You're not necessary for the revival, if that's even needed, which it obviously won't be. Because I'm not a fairy and fairies aren't even-ack!¨ Determined to disprove this, Margot had given yet another try at forcing out this new forbidden phrase, only for it to stall in her throat alarmingly once again. I don't believe in fairies. Fairies aren't real. Apparently it didn't matter how she tried to phrase it, she was not allowed to get the general point across. Her brows furrowed in disturbed and anxious response at her inability to finish her sentence, only for Hook to smirk at her with a classic told-you-so expression. Margot ignored the failed attempt and pressed on.
"What about that little man you're always ordering around? Smee?" she asked. She vaguely remembered his name from the Peter Pan book as well but, since she'd never actually read it, all her information was second hand.
"Margot," James tried, exasperated, using her Christian name for once in an attempt to appeal to her better sense and keep gaining her trust, "You've already nearly died once today. Is that not sufficient?"
"Alright, Captain," she threw back, "If you're lying, I won't die. If you're telling the truth, someone can bring me back. Is a question of your honor sufficient to test this inane theory of yours?"
Something about this accusation — likely having to do with the fact that he'd been nothing but honest with and basically courteous towards this woman so far — immediately had him irritated. His brows creased and his lips curled into a snarl.
"Fair enough, Miss Belle. If you still question my honor, so be it! Smee!" he shouted.
As if he'd been listening at the door or something, the bosun tumbled in almost immediately.
"Yes, Cap'n?" he asked.
Hook didn't even cast a glance his way, "Just get ready to clap. Enthusiastically." Leveling his most intimidating glare at Margot he breathed out in his rich velvet voice, "I do not believe in fairies."
It didn't hit her all at once. For the first split second as Hook's declaration did nothing, she almost prepared to start laughing triumphantly. And Hook watched her hawkishly as that flame of victory quickly diminished into a look of panic. Her eyes widened when a horrid choking noise began to emit from her throat, causing her to wrap her own hands around her neck, trying to feel for what was wrong.
The shock of being wrong didn't even register as survival mode set in. Margot fell to her knees, hacking as she tried desperately to breathe. It felt like someone had suddenly stitched her lungs closed and a brutal pressure bore down on her chest and diaphragm so strongly she worried it might crack her in half. Forget having the wind knocked out of you, something was sucking the life out of her. Somewhere in the back of Margot's mind, she recognized hearing the Captain shout anxiously at Smee but, before she knew it, she was slipping into blackness.
This was different from when she'd nearly drowned. It was far different than blacking out from too much drink. The blackness she was facing wasn't even that of death but something much worse. A total void. Margot could feel herself disappearing, like she had never even existed at all…
But, then, just moments later, she woke up on the floor to Smee's hands clapping loudly right in front of her face, frantically muttering "I do believe in fairies, I do! I do!"
The moment she let out a low groan of pure discomfort and sudden exhaustion, the clapping stopped. "She's alive, Cap'n!"
Someone, presumably Hook by the heady scent surrounding her, then picked her up bridal style and walked her across the room in his arms.
"Do you believe it yet, silly girl?" he asked, his tone more anxious than annoyed, more relieved than exasperated.
"Yes, I do," she breathed out in sleepy response, her body aching all over, feeling so cold it was like she'd been left in the snowstorm outside. "I believe you."
Hook lay her gently on his bed which had been re-lowered from his ceiling, the banquet hastily pushed out of the way, while Margot had been passed out. Watching her slip into a deep, much needed slumber, something curious struck him.
She had not said she now believed in fairies. Not even that she now believed she was a fairy.
No, she'd said that she believed him.
And no one had ever said that to James Hook.
Second star to the right and straight on till morning…
Tink hadn't followed these directions in a long time. She hadn't been back for close to three decades, she realized, when she remembered her daughter's most recent birthday just a day before.
It was difficult to say then how much time had passed in Neverland, not that it mattered. The magical lack of aging made sure that Tink would return to find everyone she'd left behind exactly as she'd left them. Unfortunately now that Tink had been living in a much different world with her daughter, she most certainly was not the same. She had never felt older in her life and she hated it. Would her fairy family even recognize her? Would Peter? Well, the island's unique amnesiatic effect offered the possibility that Peter may have forgotten about Tink entirely. That particular magic, though, didn't effect the fairies. Her family would remember her leaving every bit as vividly as Tink remembered her own experiences on the island.
In conflict with these anxieties, fighting for dominance in Tink's thoughts as she flew ever closer toward Neverland through an ocean of stars, were desperate wonderings of what all of this meant for Margot. Her daughter wouldn't age in Neverland, the same as any other conscious creature on or around the island. But what about how Neverland made men forget? Margot was half-human and half-fairy. Would she be immune or not? Further, now that Margot was on Neverland for the first time since her conception, would she finally be able to fly? Would she be able to unsheathe her wings again for the first time since childhood?
When Margot was a child, Tink had indulgently allowed both Margot and herself to free their wings from the enchantment that hid them just once a year. Halloween was Margot's birthday and, by lucky happenstance, Halloween turned out to be a beloved holiday celebrated with costumes in Tink's newfound home of America.
Beyond finding out that it was the one night of the year that everyone was expected to transform into something or someone other than themselves without question, Tink had hardly learned much more about the holiday than that. Most years Margot took a few hours off in the evening to run around gathering candy with friends — she couldn't begin to fathom why but the other parents in the neighborhood were very involved in the whole charade so Tink figured she had to let her own daughter take part. But Tink only cared that it gave them an opportunity to unsheathe their wings and enjoy their true forms. On Margot's birthday no less, she was so thankful the fates had aligned for it to work out that way.
As a newborn, keeping her daughter's wings hidden had been damn near impossible so Tink spent the majority of Margot's babyhood confined anxiously to a shoddy one bedroom apartment. The enchantment to hide a fairy's wings required a certain amount of willingness on the part of said fairy. It wasn't exactly like she could explain to a baby that she needed to blend in with the new community around them.
By the time Margot was a toddler and talking, Tink had been able to improve their situation in some ways. She'd saved up enough money in addition to the funds Moira had sent her off with to buy them a house — derelict to the point of collapsing, extremely small even for the two of them, and located in a somewhat dangerous neighborhood just north of Philadelphia, it certainly wasn't the height of luxury but it was a hell of a lot better than a one bedroom apartment. Beyond the house, once Margot was old enough to talk, Tink had begun to play "games" with her daughter to hide her wings and make her a willing participant in their enchantment. Do you want to go get some ice cream darling? Then close your eyes and wish, wish, wish your wings away! No wings allowed in the ice cream parlor, it's the rule!
Those times had been heartbreaking enough. Worse still was when the games and bribes were no longer necessary. At a certain point before Margot even reached the age of four, she had grown so used to hiding her wings before leaving the house that one day… she simply seemed to stop remembering she had them. After that, coaxing their reveal once a year for Margot's birthday had honestly been a more difficult task and required an annual weeks-long ruse of pretending to sew an exquisite costume. Just another fracture in the long list of cracks that had begun to decorate Tink's heart likely since Wendy first arrived so many years ago.
All of these thoughts were hammering through Tink's head as she sped through the stars, making her sick with worry. She couldn't even fathom her own daughter's mental state right now, much less her long-estranged fairy family and, of course, Peter.
And then there was the question of who exactly had snatched her daughter. In her mind the only conceivable options were Peter or Hook and neither did Tink particularly relish the thought of dealing with.
Margot woke several hours later, sometime still in the middle of the night, she gathered from the lack of light coming from the ship's porthole windows as well as the dozens of candles now dimly lighting Hook's room. She couldn't at all accurately estimate what time of night it was… if time was even a thing here? Didn't people stop aging in Neverland? The weather here didn't stand on ceremony, why should time?
The first thing Margot took stock of was the fact that she was feeling better, but not enough. Most importantly her breathing had returned to normal. After almost drowning in the sea she never would have expected to only a few hours later be drowning all over again on apparent existential crisis. But the past day was proving to Margot that maybe she should stop trying to expect anything normal for the time being.
But despite being able to breathe normally, feeling significantly more well rested and less hungover finally, Margot was unfortunately incredibly sore all over her body. She felt completely battered and made a move to pull down the heavy thick fur blankets piled on top of her to get a look at herself. The chill in the cabin suggested that it was still snowing outside and the mournful howl of some icy wind creaking through the wood of the ship confirmed it.
Before completely uncovering herself, Margot thought to scan her eyes around the rest of the cabin in search of James. Hook. Captain Hook. Margot was having a hard time separating this famous identity from whatever assumed persona she had begun constructing for him when she had first awoken in his cabin earlier and exchanged introductions. Likely in an effort to preserve her sanity and hold on reality, Margot's brain seemed desperate to preserve Hook in her mind as, simply, James, the lovely man with whom she'd spent Halloween but couldn't remember.
But he was not just simply James, handsome rando from a night of drunken fun. In fact, there hadn't even been any drunken fun at all.
A quiet snore, just one, issued softly somewhere to her left and Margot's head snapped in that direction. Just a ways off from the bed, Hook was sleeping soundly in one of his great leather armchairs in his cabin's small but impressively filled library nook. She wondered how long he had been there and if he had dozed off unintentionally or was purposefully giving her space to recover in his bed. According to his famed villainous nature the latter was unlikely and a still opened book laying precariously on his lap left the former open as a definite option.
Not that she should sell this Captain so short, Margot considered. What had he done to her so far besides rescue her from drowning, feed her, provide a safe place to recover, and… make her aware of a completely baffling new aspect to her mysterious ancestry? Don't bite the hand that feeds you, she couldn't help but think to herself, almost scoldingly. Very few people in Margot's life had ever proved up to the task of taking care of her, even in emergency situations; so, currently, Hook's behavior was speaking much more highly of him than the famous stories did.
Margot was now feeling sufficiently aware enough of her surroundings again to finish peeling the fur blankets off of her and focus instead on assessing her astoundingly sore body. The first thing she noticed was that the very fancy silver gown Hook had insisted that she borrow earlier was still on. This struck her as a good sign, not out of concern for her modesty but because it likely meant she wasn't badly hurt enough to warrant undressing. In dangerous situations, Margot could have cared less about someone seeing her naked; if there were injuries then cut the damn dress off, right? She was already feeling less panicked by the fact that that hadn't been necessary.
Reaching behind her back, she found that the laces to the dress, quite luckily, had been left undone for her. Considering the last thing she remembered before passing out again was desperately gasping for air that wouldn't come, this made sense. Being cinched up tightly was not super conducive to breathing. With the dress already loosened, it was no trouble to push the bodice of the gown almost all the way down to her hips to inspect her bare skin.
Margot's breath hitched before she let out a small gasp at what she saw. Nothing. No visible injury anywhere on her.
Not a single bruise, not even the faint impression of anything having squeezed her, though she'd felt so sure that something was on the cusp of snapping her in two pieces when she'd tested Hook's declaration and forced him to say those damned words.
Her short quiet gasp though, was all it took to wake Hook, a naturally light sleeper thanks to his many decades trapped at eternal war with Peter Pan. His eyes snapped open at the sound, though he remained silent and unmoving enough not to draw her attention.
From his angle and how Margot was sitting up in his bed, he could only see her bare back but he could see what she had done. She was half naked in front of him and had she just been facing him then he would have finally been able to drink in the sight of her bare breasts.
He almost shuddered in pleasure from the mere though but forced himself to remain silent as she continued to look herself over. It had been so long since a new woman had shown up in Neverland, much less one as attractive as Miss Belle. There were a few dozen or more women collected within the rickety little village everyone called Pirate Town that had developed off the Jolly Roger's Neverland port — whores and a few madame's, as well as the mistresses of a few other types of haphazard island establishments like the pub, the tailor, and the dressmaker.
Almost everyone who now resided in Pirate Town had ended up there due to unfortunate circumstances. Pan's ever fluctuating levels of boredom could occasionally muster up storms strong enough to draw in a lost boat from somewhere and sometime in the Old World.
However, not everyone who had had the misfortune to wash up in Neverland was from Hook's part of the world or, for that matter, even his time. When Wendy Darling and her brothers had shown up, guided by Pan, he'd been vaguely aware that, once again, much more time had passed outside of Neverland. It had been difficult to tell much beyond that, the only signs from an unknown future that those children had displayed were their peculiar pajamas and John Darling's strange long hat.
But even in the years after the Darlings, after Hook had killed that blasted crocodile once and for all, the occasional wreck would wash up on their shores, ripe for the pirates' pillaging. The few survivors of these wrecks would have to make do finding some kind of life for themselves in Pirate Town or, on very rare occasions, prove themselves worthy of a spot among Hook's crew.
And as time passed, it wasn't just boats that appeared anymore. Other strange crafts had fallen out of the sky, large and unsightly things with great wings stretched out to either side. Survivors of those crashes were rarest of all but there were enough of them to learn that these massive machines were called airplanes and they rendered man capable of flight sans fairy dust. These survivors had been the first to arrive all mumbling about something called the Bermuda Triangle. People had a great many theories about where they'd ended up and why but eventually everyone grew to accept that fate had stolen them away to Neverland.
These stories were all just one facet of what made Miss Margot Belle so fascinating to Hook. Yes, each wreck to wash upon Neverland had been stranger than the last, each survivor too. That was just indicative of the ever passing time surrounding their stalled little slice of Limbo. But one thing they'd all had in common was Pan's involvement on some level. Whether stealing away new lost boys personally or simply throwing some sort of fit that caused a storm to rage past their world and into the real one, people ended up in Neverland because of Peter.
And then Margot. She was the first arrival to Neverland that Hook found wholly unrelated to Peter Pan's involvement whatsoever. In fact, he was beginning to grow quite sure that Pan had no idea about the existence of this woman or her presence in Neverland. If the fairy they'd spied flying Margot through the sky had somehow been working under Pan's orders, Hook was certain they'd know by now. In the midst of their ongoing war, Peter never missed an opportunity to call him to arms. If Hook had captured some prospective alley Peter had been in search of, then he'd certainly have already returned to fetch her for himself.
Hook was roused from his thoughts when he heard Margot let out another noise of surprise, a soft "Oh," with just one barely discernible note of embarrassment hiding in her tone. She was looking over her naked shoulder at him, her eyes fixed upon his as she gathered the bodice of her gown back up to her chest.
"You're awake," Margot commented. Her voice still sounded weak.
"As are you I see," Hook returned.
Part of her wanted to ask him if had been planning to say anything, to alert her to his presence before she bared her naked chest to him by mistake. But something about this man's smooth ease and confidence with her made her want to emulate the same self-assurance. She didn't want to seem any weaker than she already did. Especially when he appeared to be the only person available anywhere around here to help her figure out what the hell was going on and why she'd ended up here.
Hook seemed to notice her stall and surprised her yet again when he rather graciously took the lead.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, rising from his chair as he did to close his book and put it back onto one of his shelves. "I think that last adventure may have brought you closer to death than your first harrowing fall, Miss Belle."
"Well, you'd be correct about that, as far as I can tell," Margot said with a heavy sigh, "I feel pretty damn terrible, frankly. But it's okay, go ahead you can say it."
"Say what?" he asked with a quirked eyebrow.
"You told me so. Go ahead, you can say it," she said with a shrug and defeated nod. "You were right."
Hook chuckled, "Aye, that I was but I don't see any reason to shame you with that fact now. It would appear you've quite learned your lesson."
"My lesson? That I'm a fairy? Yeah, I guess so. Too bad I have absolutely no idea what that means or what the hell to do with that information," Margot lamented with an exasperated and slightly panicked huff.
Hook could tell the girl was starting to spiral in her own mind so he decided to offer her what he found most useful in particularly overwhelming situations: rum. Margot watched him turn to his desk to retrieve a couple of glasses and some rum, pouring a small portion in each.
"Perhaps you could use this," Hook said, offering her the glass. "It's still snowing outside. This should help warm you."
With one hand still tightly clutching her unlaced bodice to her chest, Margot reached out the other to accept the drink. Not only had she only just begun to recover from that day's hangover, she didn't particularly like rum. But, in this moment, she couldn't help but agree that she felt a drink was sorely needed.
"Yes, you are a fairy, so it appears…" Hook mused. "Despite your size and peculiar lack of wings. But as far as the lesson you've hopefully learned? Actually I meant that, hopefully, you've learned that you are, unfortunately, woefully ill informed about everything from where you are to what you are. I, however, am quite the expert on all things pertaining to Neverland… so perhaps it would serve your interests best to trust me."
Margot wasn't an idiot. The past, what? Twelve hours? The past maybe twelve hours she'd spent with this pirate captain, chivalrous or not, didn't mean a thing. She did not know this man. It would be idiotic to trust him, especially considering she'd had yet to make it anywhere much farther than his bedroom.
But Margot also knew that she had literally no other options at this point. Well, one. She could idiotically decide to try to provoke this man's ill will toward her. She definitely wasn't going to do that. Better to make him believe she did trust him. If he was as gracious as he was pledging, sticking with him could only be to her benefit. If he wasn't? Well, no reason the Captain needed to know she was still maintaining a wary lookout.
With that decided for herself, Margot lifted her small glass of rum up in a gesture of cheers with a smile. Hook repeated her gesture, stepping forward enough to clink their glasses together briefly.
"Cheers, Captain," Margot said and they both downed their drinks.
Distracted by their conversation, neither one of them had noticed the faint glimmer flashing faintly outside one of the porthole windows.
Outside, dodging still falling snow, was Starshimmer, extremely relieved and happy to see her niece alive. Less happy, however, to see her sitting in Captain Hook's bed and casually sharing a drink with him. Dear heavens, Starshimmer thought, this was all her fault.
Wow so uhhhhh…. Is this thing still on? It's been some years guys. But I'm finally back! Not just with this story but my Klaroline fics will be returning soon too! Does anyone even still Klaroline stan anymore? Well, it's not as if this Hook fic was ever particularly timely and I still felt compared to share it so, guess it doesn't matter much.
Specifically, I'm coming back to also update The Mikaelson's and Inferno again soon as well. And eventually, I'd like to get back to Wrecked as well but it's not my immediate priority. My first few updates may be to this fic first, though, I'm not sure yet. I haven't had the writing bug in so long I figure I should probably listen to my intuition and just write whatever comes easiest to me first. Otherwise I'm scared to fall back into the "not writing at" hole!
Anyway I hope some of you are still here and maybe even excited to see this update! To Wonhoney23 - who so graciously and flatteringly offered me commission to finish this (!3) - not necessary a'tall but I hope you're still here to enjoy this! I would love to hear from any and all of you, I'm super excited to be back!