27/04/07

Title: The Care and Feeding of Flying Boys

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Sixteen - Wrong End of the Stick

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Peter alighted on one of the huge rocks dotted about the Mermaid Lagoon, his toes digging into the seaweed covering the surface. The moon hadn't risen yet and the water lapped sluggishly at the boulders that served as couches for the mermaids that frequented the bay during the day. He could see stars reflected in the ripples cascading lazily across the swell, no break in its perfection as far as the eye could see. Pulling out his pan pipes, he sat cross-legged on the hard stone and blew softly into the reeds. A mournful sound like the dropping of a pebble in a pond started to drift over the water, Peter's thoughts following the tune while he waited for an answer.

Jack's return had only briefly diverted his thoughts on Wendy and her fate. It was clear that someone, or something was thwarting his attempts to find her, throwing hurdles in his path to divert him from the inevitable. What was worse, he knew in his gut that Hook had Wendy, a thought that chilled him to the bone. Notes fell from the pan pipes as his fingers lifted and lowered over the tiny holes in it's surface, like those notes his mind filled with glimpses of the brief time he'd spent in Wendy's company, the first meal they'd had with the Lost Boy's in the Hollow, the delight on her face when he showed her the fairies dancing in the air, her simple pleasure in seeing a fairy ring for the first time. All these images danced over his minds' eye while his pan pipes sang a melancholy tune, in keeping with his emotions. For such a brief time it had been so intense, so overwhelmingly focused entirely on her, that everything else had seemed a dream, her face, her features the only thing he wanted to see. And then there were the kisses, his eyes closing as he remembered each and every one, some of them light, some of them making his body sing and his toes curl. A note jarred in the tune, his finger slipping when an unbidden image came to his mind of Hook kissing Wendy in just the same way she did him. For a moment he paused in his playing, then started again, the mournful tune wending it's way around the rocks and through the water to dance among the weeds and fishes below. She would never kiss Hook, it was unthinkable. He'd told her what he was, what he did, hadn't he? Surely she'd realize that Hook was the worst of the worst, a pirate without mercy or pity. Peter shook his head, it was madness to think she would ever feel anything for one such as Hook. He blew harder on the pipes, the notes skipping into the air like rocks skimming the waves, ripples starting to appear on the water's surface. No, she would fight him, claw his eyes and kicks his shins for the codfish he was. Peter's music grew stronger so that the tune sang clear and loud, echoing off the rocks to set up a counter melody that wove in and out of the new notes like smoke on the wind. The ripples around his rock were growing more pronounced, a dark shadow sliding just under the surface, the tip of a tail leaving behind a stream of bubbles that broke the smooth surface with a whoosh of sound. His tune was coming to an end, a final blast leaving it hanging in the air just as a head broke the water at his feet and rose up to stand on it's tail, water streaming off it's sleek body.

"You calls to us, Pan," the mermaid stated, titling her head and staring at him with her sloe eyes.

"What know you of the Jolly Roger?" Peter asked, not bothering with the usual curtesies.

"We knows from our sister that it sails off the sand spit, far from 'ere. We also knows that aboard is a 'uman, one that is new to the Jolly Roger and us."

"Was the human a girl?" Peter asked, leaning forward in his eagerness to know more.

"Our sister says it was female, one that another sister tried to snatch from the air."

"Then it is Wendy," Peter breathed, settling back on his haunches. "Did she look well, was she harmed?"

"Our sister say the 'uman was sitting at the window of 'ooks cabin. She looked sad, but not damaged."

"In Hook's clutches," Peter growled, clenching his fist. "If he's touched her..."

The mermaid watched him intently, her obsidian eyes noting his frown and closed fist, a smile playing about her lips, revealing a glimpse of the sharpened fangs behind.

"This 'uman is special to Pan?"

"Very special."

"The Pan want we snatch her from 'ook for 'im?"

"NO!...er no, thank you. I will find the ship and rescue Wendy myself. You say it's out beyond the sand spit?" He waited for the mermaid to nod in answer. "Then I will fly out there tonight and see what's happening. Maybe I'll have a chance to get Wendy out under cover of darkness." Jumping to his feet Peter made to fly away only to have his ankle caught in the grip of the mermaid, her long nails digging into his skin. He floated back to the rock and stood there, his hands on his hips.

"Let me go."

"We will...when we is finished telling Pan what he needs to know."

"What else is there?" Peter demanded, impatient now to be gone.

"There is plotting against the Pan. We hear many words that mean an end to the reign of Pan on this island. An end to Neverland itself. Do you not hear them yourself?"

"What plots? What are you talking about?"

"We hear all that goes between the land and sea, in the air and under the water, we hears but do not want ,always, to believe. Pan should be wary of friends that are no longer allies, and look at former enemies as future friends."

Peter lowered his hands from his hips and stared hard at the mermaid. The slippery creatures were renowned for their ability to gather information, but they were also less well known for being creatures of prophecy. Peter shook his head, unwilling to contemplate what the mermaid was trying to tell him.

"I will listen to what you say and act on it. For now, I must find the ship and rescue my Wendy."

"We 'ave said all there is to tell you. Goodbye Pan...we 'ope you find your 'uman in one piece." Her mission accomplished, the mermaid dived back under the water and disappeared, leaving Peter to ponder her words before taking his own leave and leaping into the night sky in search of the Jolly Roger.

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Wendy slept fitfully, her lips parting often to emit a little moan as she fidgeted on the hard planking. Above her head Hook slept no better, his eyelids flickering constantly as he struggled to wade through old nightmares without waking up. With a sigh he gave up and opened his eyes to a cabin wreathed in shadows. A sound from the floor brought him fully awake to the presence of someone else in the room with him. Still befuddled by sleep he swung his legs off the side of the bed and wondered briefly why he was still dressed in his coat and trousers. The toe of his shoe nudged something soft and he looked down. A girl slept curled up like a kitten, her legs drawn up and one arm held out, her wrist encased in a heavy shackle attached by a chain to a slim ankle barely visible below the hem of her dress. Memory eluded Hook for several seconds as he stared down at the stranger sharing his cabin, a faint moan from the sleeper snapping memory back in to place.

"Aaaah yes...Wendy Darling." Careful not to step on her, Hook eased off the side of his bed and walked over to the table. Grabbing a beaker, specially designed to allow him to pick it up with his hook, he filled it with sweet wine and drank deeply. The faintest scrape of metal on wood drew his attention back to the girl beside his bed.

"Bad form, old chap. No way to treat a lady, let alone a mere girl." Sinking the last of the wine, he unhooked the drinking vessel and approached the bed once more. He paused for a moment then bent down and picked the girl up, shackles and all, and deposited her in the center of his bed. That maneuver accomplished, he stood looking down at her for a moment before turning his back and returning to the table. The light from the few lanterns still burning cast his features into harsh shadows, hiding the expression in his eyes and masking the softness teetering about his mouth.

"You're getting old, Hook me boy...old and soft," he chastised himself, reaching once more for the wine jug. "Too old and soft to be taken in by a pair of blue eyes and hair like honey...good Lord, it's enough to make a grown pirate puke!"

Slamming down the wine jug he swung around, coat tails flying. The blue dress contrasted with the rich burgundy velvet of his bed covering, her hair looking gold in the subdued light where it lay over the white, lace pillows. Stalking over to the bed, Hook raised his gleaming metal appendage in readiness to bring it down on the helpless sleeper, his eyes taking on a reddish gleam as he brought his arm down, burying the knife sharp hook deep in a pillow behind the girls head.

"What is it about you that turns a man from his true purpose?" Hook queried, his other hand braced so that he bracketed the girls head, trapping her in the cage formed by his arms. "What are you to him? Will he rescue you, will he brave the jaws of hell for you? What hold do you have over a man to make him go against everything he's ever believed in?"

Wrenching himself away, he flung the ruined pillow across the room, goose feathers fluttering around him like a snow storm before settling on every flat surface in the cabin. Unable to answer his own questions, Hook prowled to the window and flung it open, the sudden influx of night air sending his hair back over his shoulders and a welcome chill to run down his spine. "I will prise the secrets out of you, my beauty, even if it means your life to do so." Leaning out of the window, Hook stared down at the swirling water below, the sky above ablaze with stars with only the faintest glimmer of the approaching dawn spearing the distant horizon. With sleep thoroughly routed, Hook left the window and walked to the cabin door, his hand on the latch before he turned to stare at his shadowed bed and it's lone occupant. "I will find out your secrets, and with them end the torment that is Peter Pan." Wrenching the door wide, he marched through, closing it behind him.

Silence smothered the cabin with his departure, the lanterns swinging lazily from their hooks, their flames burning lower and lower, impending dawn ready to snuff them out completely. From her place among the rumpled covers of the Captain's bed, Wendy lay as Hook had placed her, her body relaxed but her mind a ferment of racing thoughts, tripping over themselves and running into corners as she tried to make sense of what she'd heard the man muttering. Her heart still hammered from when the hook had landed so close to her head, her fingernail leaving crescents in her palms as she fought to keep still and feign sleep. Now he had gone from the room and she could faintly hear the sound of footsteps overhead as he paced the poop deck, the lacquered heels of his shoes tapping out a persistent and regular pattern. Slowly she eased her stiff limbs into movement, the clink of the chain reminding her that her apparent freedom was a mockery, the hobble sufficient to render her unable to help herself in anything but the most basic of functions. Apart from stretching out her limbs, there was precious little else she could do, and little point other than to rub the skin on her wrist and ankle into bloody ruin. Laying back down, she settled herself against the soft pillows, appreciative of their comfort even if she wished herself back on the floor and safe. Being nestled in the middle of Hook's bed made her feel anything but safe, surrounded as she was now by the smell of his tobacco and his cologne. It was not that it was unpleasant, it was just a constant reminder that she was not free to leave and held at the mercy of a man with a reputation for dread piracy and quite likely pillaging. Not that she really knew what pillaging entailed, but she could guess and it boded her no good, especially when she considered Hook's parting words. She didn't know what secrets he hoped to wrest from her, or what good they would do him if he did, she only knew that to do so would quite possibly be painful for her, and easily end with her demise. "Please find me Peter...find me soon, for I think I might be only food for the fishes if you take much longer."

As it appeared that the good Captain was not about to return to his cabin or his bed anytime soon, Wendy started to relax, only to go rigid with fright once more when a hand clamped itself over her mouth, stealing her breath and her cries for help.

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Peter had flown almost all of the night looking for the pirate anchorage, the task made more difficult because of a moonless sky and the ship itself running without lights. With only starlight to guide him, Peter had to search every cove and bay along the length of the sand spit, a stretch of dune sculptured land with little vegetation and plentiful inlets. Exhausted, he flew over a tall spine of rocks and almost collided with the mast of the Jolly Roger, only a quick dive avoiding a direct hit and his likely entanglement among the rigging. As he hovered over the deck, he could only just make out the ships distinctive outline, its camouflage against the cliff almost absolute, a clever ruse to avoid detection. Now that he had found her, he silently swooped down to the water line and skimmed over the surface, searching for a way to get into the ship without setting foot on the deck. He assumed that Hook would keep his most important prisoner in one of the small cabins adjoining his own, the better to keep watch. Peter was sure that if it was himself in Hook's clutches, he'd be languishing below decks in the brig, amongst the rats and roaches. But Wendy was not him, and Hook was, for all his piratical inclinations, a man that boasted the refinements of a gentleman at every opportunity, so it was likely he'd house a female prisoner in much more salubrious quarters than the smelly hold. The only light Peter could find was coming faintly from the Captain's cabin aft of the main deck, the thick, colored glass inserts muting the lanterns still alight within.

Careful not to make a sound, Peter landed on the ledge outside the windows and pressed his ear to the glass, listening for any hint of occupation. He'd already checked the crew's quarters, the men snoring up a storm, even the night watch were barely awake where they slumped over wheel and railing. Along the hull of this sleeping ship crept Peter Pan, his own shadow swallowed up by the towering bulk above his head. Only the slap of the wavelets against the hull accompanied his stealthy approach. Now he crouched against the cold glass and listened, straining to hear anything that would indicate a prisoner aboard and their whereabouts. He heard movement, someone pacing the room and muttering, the words indistinct through the window panes, then the footsteps approached where he crouched, a window further along suddenly flung open. He heard Hook draw in a deep breath, the unmistakable scent of his cologne tickling Peter's nose when he leant forward on the window sill.

"I will prise the secrets out of you, my beauty, even if it means your life to do so." Hook spoke to no-one but himself, unaware of his nemesis so close. Peter saw the pirate Captain lift his chin and stare out across the water at the sliver of light starting to appear on the distant horizon, the herald of dawn making it's presence known. Then Hook was gone and his footsteps clearly heard on the wooden planking until he stopped on the far side of the room. Peter held his breath and kept as still as a statue. Again, Hook spoke, and Peter heard a rasp of bitterness taint the pirates voice.

"I will find out your secrets, and with them end the torment that is Peter Pan." Then Hook was gone and the door shut behind him. Only when Peter heard Hook prowling the upper deck did he slowly stretch out of his concealing crouch and fly the short distance to the open window. Unsheathing his knife, he slunk over the window ledge and stood for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the deeper gloom of the cabin. The last guttering flames of the lanterns shed uneven light over the room, casting swaying shadows that concealed and revealed in turns. A movement from the bed drew Peter's attention there, his breath almost freezing in his lungs at the moment he realized that someone was still laying there. One of the lanterns flare briefly before going out, the wash of light enough to show a slash of blue fabric amid the dark velvet of the coverlet and a hint of gold tinged hair spread over the white linen pillows. Making sure not to bump into the furniture placed around the room, Peter made his way towards the bed, his senses alert to the sound of Hook pacing back and forth above his head, as well as any sound that would indicate anyone coming through the cabin door. As he came nearer, he made out a bare foot peeking out of the skirt of a blue dress, a length of pale arm draped over the dark velvet, the hand curled innocently against the gold embroidery, and at length an expanse of pale throat above an unadorned round neckline.

Sheathing his knife he darted a look at the door, then the ceiling before turning his attention to the sleeper on the bed. Wendy's eyes were closed and he supposed her asleep, so he placed his hand over her mouth before waking her, to stifle any cry of alarm. At the first touch of his hand Wendy flinched and squealed, the cry muffled behind his fingers.

"Shhhhhh I've come to rescue you," Peter whispered, his mouth close to her ear. Slowly he removed his hand, his shadow moving off her face to reveal her features, eyes wide and dark, lips parted to drag in much needed air. Wendy had to swallow twice before she could speak.

"Peter...oh Peter, I thought...you're here...Hook!"

"Is still up on deck pacing his shoes into holes. I heard him go, I was outside the window." He turned his head to indicate the open window then swung back to face her, his mouth split with a cheeky grin. "Hook's left the window open so we can fly away...come on!" Peter made to pull Wendy out of bed but the heavy clink of chains stalled him. Unseen before now, the shackles that bound Wendy to the floor now showed themselves on wrist and ankle, the chain secured to a stout ring set into the wall beam. Peter tugged at the chain but it held true.

"Damn...I'll have to get the key to these shackles, if I'm to free you. I suppose Hook has it about his person?"

"I don't know Peter, I didn't see a key. You can't be here when he comes back, you must go..." Wendy tore at the metal encasing her wrist, sobbing when it wouldn't budge. Peter tried to help her but they only succeeded in breaking the skin and making her bleed. "Oh Peter it's no use...they won't come off."

"I won't leave you here...I heard Hook...he..." Peter didn't finish, not wanting to frighten Wendy further, but she already knew what Hook planned for her.

"I know Peter...he said," she swallowed hard, "he said he would find out my secrets, and use them to hurt you."

"What are these secrets Wendy, what is he talking about?"

"I don't know...I really don't...but Peter...he...we..." she stalled, blushing at the thought of the kisses she'd shared with Hook. Peter tilted her chin up to see her face better.

"What Wendy? What did Hook do?"

Jerking her chin out of his grip, Wendy turned her face away. "He...kissed me." She waited for his reaction but when none was forthcoming she turned to face him. Peter looked stunned, his expression perplexed.

"Why would he do that? Did you tell him you kissed me?"

"No...I don't know why he kissed me...neither of them were very nice, just frightening."

"There was more than one?" Peter asked, her eyes wider than ever. Wendy realized her blunder too late and tried to recover.

"Well, yes...he did kiss me twice...the first time to punish me, I'm sure. The second time..." She paused, not at all sure what to call the second kiss, it's memory making her feel strange. Peter wasn't prepared to be patient.

"What about the second kiss?" He asked, jealously turning his voice into a hiss.

"He said it was to remind me..."

"Remind you of what?" Peter asked, his voice rising an octave, despite being little more than a whisper.

"Of what a real man's kiss is like..." Wendy finished, wincing and leaning away from Peter as if expecting a blow. When it didn't arrive she peeped out from behind her curtain of hair to see that Peter was sitting down on the side of the bed, his shoulder slumped as if in defeat. "I'm sorry Peter...really, I didn't want to kiss him...I told him I hoped you'd gut him when you next met."

"Did Hook capture you, or did you ask to be taken aboard?" Peter asked, his voice a dull monotone. He wasn't looking at her but studying his toes in the growing light coming in the window from the dawn.

"I don't know what happened. One minute I was on a sandy beach. I'd lain down because I felt so tired, under the shade of a palm tree. The next time I awoke I was here, in Hook's cabin. Do these look like I want to be here?" She held up her bloody wrist and rattled the chain, pulling her ankle up to do so. Wendy started to cry, aware of how hopeless the situation was for her. Peter's heart thumped, the anger and jealousy melting away in the face of her obvious distress.

"I'm sorry Wendy, of course you don't want to be here...I don't want you here either, but without a key I don't know how to free you."

Lifting her head, Wendy and Peter stared at each other in the dimly lit cabin. Slowly, Wendy laid her head on Peter's shoulder, his arms coming up to wrap around her while she sniffled against his smooth skin. "What are we going to do?" Wendy asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Peter held her in his arms, gently but firmly. The dawn light was growing stronger and Peter could hear voices above their heads, the night crew being relieved with Hook giving his orders for the day. It wouldn't be long before their solitude was interrupted. Unable to fathom how to free Wendy, Peter tried to think of ways he could get the key from Hook, or at least find out where the key was being kept. The metal ring was so deeply embedded in the beam he'd need a hatchet to hack it free, or barring that, something to cut the ring itself. There would be something in the tools carried aboard the Jolly Roger, but again the problem was how to get to them. He had a choice, either to stay on the ship and try to effect a rescue with a large dose of luck and no help, or fly away, leaving Wendy still a prisoner, and get help from the Indians. The thought of leaving her alone with Hook, after what she'd told him, made his blood run cold. If Hook felt confident enough to assault his prisoner, there was no knowing how far he'd go to find out these secrets he seemed to think so important.

"I won't leave you," Peter stated, pushing Wendy away and looking deeply into her eyes. "I won't leave you alone with him."

"But...if you stay here, he'll will catch you too. There's nothing you can do." Covering her face with her hands, Wendy tried to calm herself, sure that any moment now Hook would stride through the door, expecting to find her still asleep. "You have to go now Peter...Hook will be coming back to check on me."

"I'm not leaving you, Wendy. So don't waste your breath arguing." Getting off the bed Peter started to check the cabin for places to conceal him. Despite the wealth of furniture, there were few places for someone to squeeze into and hide. Thinking the bed to be on a box base, Peter didn't check there until last. Frustrated he lifted the edge of the velvet bed hangings only to find that the usual box base was absent. Instead, the big bed sat on large, heavily carved wooden feet bolted to the decking. It left a narrow space just high enough to allow someone very slender to hide.

"Bounce on the bed Wendy!" Peter ordered, laying on his stomach and squinting at the underside of the bed. Wendy did as he instructed and Peter confirmed that her efforts made no difference to the space below. Wendy leant over the edge to better see what he was doing.

"Will you fit?"

"It'll be a tight squeeze...but yes, I'll fit. Now get comfortable and remember, I'll be close by. I'll get us out of here, Wendy, just believe in me."

"I do Peter...I do believe." She watched as he wriggled on his belly, using his feet to push himself underneath where she lay. He held his sword in his hand to make it easier, knife in the other, one bare grubby foot the last thing to disappear behind the bed covers. With sunlight starting to creep into the cabin through the open window, Wendy smoothed over the bed where Peter had sat, and tired to rearrange her skirts to look like she had when Hook left her. Finally she lay down, her face hot against the cool linen of the pillows. Her free hand dangled over the edge of the bed, and she started when she felt a warm hand close around hers and squeeze comfortingly. Despite the hopelessness of her situation, having Peter so close made her feel stronger and better able to cope with whatever Hook had planned for her. A noise outside the cabin made her snatch her hand back, a quick glance over the side of the bed proving that Peter was completely hidden from view. A minute later the door opened and she watched, through nearly closed eyes, the portly first mate enter with a steaming basin of water, towels slung over his arm.

Smee paused on the threshold and glanced around the room, noting the open window and young woman apparently asleep in the captain's bed. Tutting to himself, Smee carried the steaming basin behind the screen and placed it on the stand. Picking up the night bucket, water jug and used towels he padded quietly across the floor and left the cabin. Wendy let out a sigh and tried to relax her tense limbs. The drum of feet above her head warned her that the crew were up and about, Hook likely to return soon to have his breakfast, and probably a morning shave. Touching her cheeks to make sure they didn't still feel hot and flushed, she stifled the urge to reach over the side for the security of Peter's hand again. She didn't know what, if anything, Peter could do if Hook decided to try and kiss her again. But just knowing that Peter was within call settled many of her butterflies, her body relaxing against the comfortable mattress and allowing her to doze, a smile curving her mouth as she slumbered.

Underneath Hook's bed, Peter rested his chin on his hands, his view of the room outside limited to a inch below the fringe of the bed covering. His nose itched from the dust coating the wooden floor, a goose feather tickling his chin, but he fought the urge to sneeze. His thoughts were tumblings over each other, anger at Hook for even touching his Wendy, let alone kissing her. Jealousy fought with his temper and he felt almost ready to jump out of his skin, but squashed the feeling, wanting to keep a cool head. The cabin door opening made him as tense as a bow string. Watching Smee pad across the room, Peter could only see his sandaled feet and listen to the man move around the room, then leave a few minutes later. Relaxing against the hard boards, Peter listened to the ship around him, the creak of the timbers and the cry of gulls outside the window. Soon the long night started to catch up with him as the minutes passed and there was no sign of Hook returning. He could hear Wendy's soft breathing above him, and that, combined with his exhaustion, sent him asleep with his thoughts and feelings still unresolved, his dreams unsettling.

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...tbc