Wendy slowly came back to consciousness. A groan escaped her as she began stretching out her fingers and toes, moving onto her limbs, making sure she still had control of her body.. Opening her eyes, she saw she was in a bed, built into an alcove of the room. Out the large windows to her right, she could see the deep blue ocean and nothing else. Sitting up, she pulled the heavy quilt off her, thankful to still be wearing the same clothes she remembered being in. Looking around the small room, she saw a large chest, a writing desk with a few unlit candles, and a dividing screen separating another space in the room. Directly across from her, the door was closed. Wendy gingerly lowered herself from the bed to her bare feet. Taking quick stock in her body she found only minor aches, nothing new to be worried about. She walked over to the screen and looked behind it. There was a wooden tub, a small stool, clothes folded, and what she could only assume was some of Hook's wardrobe hanging behind it. Finally, she took in a breath and went to the door. Putting her ear against it, she could hear the yells of the crewmen outside, her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn't ready to accept this. This couldn't be happening but, it was. She yelped at the sudden knock on the door. An older, rather round man with a very red nose and cheeks, opened the door slowly and peaked his face in.
"Ah! So you are awake, at least. I was wondering if you were going to sleep the entire voyage, Miss Darling." His smile was calming, his voice quiet and unassuming. She backed away from him to sit on the bed, again. He bustled in with a covered tray, closing the door behind him.
"Of course, the men were all anxious that you wake up soon, they're very excited to see you again." He set the tray down, continuing to talk, moving comfortably around the room.
"I'm sorry, but who are you?" He stopped suddenly, staring wide-eyed at her, a look of sadness ghosting over his red face.
"You don't remember me, Miss Darling?" He asked, surprised.
"I've met you… I know I have." She fidgeted uncomfortably, trying to place the voice. He smiled, nodding encouragingly. "It's Mr. something… right?" Wendy tried, hoping she didn't offend this nice, older man.
"Mr. Smee. Mr. William Smee, Miss. Darling. It's been a very long time; you were but a wee, little girl when we met, along with your brothers. How are John and Michael? Strapping lads, I would imagine." Wendy looked at her feet, unable to answer him. He had turned his back and was clearing off the desk, when she didn't answer he looked over his shoulder.
"I didn't mean to make you sad, Miss. Darling, please don't be upset. Here, I've brought you some lunch and water to drink. You'll feel better once you eat." He came closer to her, speaking quietly to her. She wiped a tear away, clearing her throat.
"Wendy, Mr. Smee. My name is Wendy." He smiled at her.
"Miss Wendy, it is. Though, you will always be little Miss Darling, to me. Come out when you're ready and I'll give you the tour." He left, closing the door gently behind him. She couldn't help but smile, even when he left. She remembered he was a kind and gentle old man, so at odds from the pirates, from Hook. Looking at the desk, she saw a plate of bread and cheese, large green grapes, and a deep red apple sitting on a plate. Wendy was hesitant, wondering how a ship could have fresh fruits while at sea.
Moving to the desk, she pulled back the chair and sat, carefully picking at the food, until hunger took over and she allowed herself to eat everything. There was also a metal goblet of water, from which she drank deeply. Having finished the simple meal, she took time to look around the cabin, more closely. The far wall of the nook containing the bed was the only set of windows, though they were large and let in a lot of light. She saw there were some hanging lanterns filled with unlit candles, hanging from the rough wood ceiling sporadically. There were no pictures, no paintings, a low shelf full of books, and an armoire behind the dividing screen she hadn't seen before. Standing to look behind the divider, she also saw a small table behind the wash bin with a mirror just above, on the wall. Staring down at the wash basin she tried to imagine the long frame of Hook sitting in the small tub to wash himself, and couldn't fight the chuckle that escaped her.
Wendy turned to look at the closed door, debating Mr. Smee's offer. Did she want to go out there and face the crew and Hook? Her face flushed with anger. Now that she had accepted that this was indeed real and actually happening, she found herself angry with the captain. Obviously, this was some plan to get Peter Pan, hadn't they always been fighting? He's the reason Hook is who he is. A villain who comes in the night and kidnaps women. Turning on her heel, Wendy walked over to the low shelf and pulled off the first book she touched. Going back to sit on the soft bed, she pulled her knees up and leaned to the side, to face out across the vast ocean, and opened the book.
Wendy was shocked and had to double check with the front of the hard cover; she had opened up The Canterbury Tales. Captain James Hook had a personal copy of The Canterbury Tales. Jumping back to her feet, Wendy quickly went back to the shelf of books and dropped to her knees, reading the spines. There was Chaucer, Bibles in several languages, so much Shakespeare, Don Quixote, Paradise Lost, and The Scarlet Letter. Wendy stared at them, her head spinning with possibilities. Where had he obtained these books? Some of them looked to be first editions, why would he have them? Did Hook take pleasure in reading, as she did? Smiling at her find, she went back to the bed with her book, made herself comfortable on the soft bedspread and opened the book.
"How long is she going to sit in my cabin?" Hook was leaning casually against the wall of the deck, his arms crossed. Smee was at the helm, listening calmly.
"I would imagine the day, at least, sir." He casually responded, not turning to look. Hook exhaled, impatiently.
"It's already been a full day. She can't keep herself locked up in my cabin, forever. Eventually, she is going to have to face the truth." He argued to Smee's back.
"Perhaps you should go speak with her, Captain?" Smee offered over his shoulder.
"And what would be the purpose of that?" Smee finally turned his body to face the captain.
"She's probably going through a lot of emotions, Sir. Upset, afraid she may never see her family again. Angry to have been taken in the first place. Terrified of her current predicament…" Hook eyed Smee.
"She hasn't been hurt or locked up in any way. What does she have to fear from me?"
"With respect, Sir, until a single day ago, you were a figment of her imagination. One that her entire world told her she was crazy for believing in. And now, she is here. One has to imagine that is a difficult reality to accept." Hook looked out across the ocean pondering Smee's words. He was right and Hook knew it. "I asked about her brothers, and she was visibly upset, and wouldn't say anything. She's afraid, alone, possibly seasick…" Smee turned back to the helm, allowing Hook the space to think through what he had said.
"Are you suggesting I go and comfort her, Smee?" Mr. Smee smiled to himself.
"I don't think you could make matters worse, Sir. She isn't a child anymore. Perhaps if you were to explain the situation-"
"I am not going to do that. The plan does not hinge on whether she likes me or not. I will not be sharing any information that could possibly get back to Pan. We can't take any chances."
"I hope you enjoy another night under the stars, Sir." Smee snickered more to himself.
"You're excused, Mr. Smee." Hook said, his voice suddenly icy.
"Beggin' your pardon, Cap'n." Smee dipped his head in apology and quickly disappeared from the deck, leaving Hook to continue to debate with himself. How best to handle the Wendy bird…
Wendy was asleep with a book in her lap when Mr. Smee came back to the cabin to bring her dinner. He smiled down at the woman, gently took the book from her hands, and draped a blanket over her. He thought about trying to climb over her to close the window, but he didn't want to wake her. It wasn't open too wide, and he was sure the cool night air would be a comfort for her. Placing the closed book on the bed beside her, Mr. Smee let himself out of the cabin, closing the door tightly behind him.
Wendy had a fitful night of sleep, tossing and turning, pushing the blankets away then pulling them back a few moments later. Even when the light came back to the day, she was unable to get herself to wake up enough to move from the bed. Her head was pounding, her entire body ached, and she couldn't stop sweating. It was late morning when Mr. Smee brought her breakfast, frowning when he saw she hadn't touched her dinner from last night. He didn't want to wake her, if she needed sleep, though he was growing concerned about how long she had been lying there. He decided to give her a bit more time before he informed the captain. It was possible she was suffering from seasickness, all those new to the sea did. He exchanged the water, and brought the breakfast out of the cabin, bringing it to the captain, instead.