Their Hearts' Desire

by Starflight1701

SEQUEL to "BATTLE FOR NEVERLAND" - (I changed the pen-name from Lywhn to Starflight). Five years after 'Battle...', an almost grownup Wendy returns to Neverland. As her suitor follows her for reasons other than 'rescuing' her, it threats Peter and his world. Hook is forced to act - not only to save the day but also 'his' storyteller for whom his heart burns. Full summary inside.

36. Lies and Bad News

Hi, my dear readers,

Oops, not one review? Was the last chapter so bad or do you simply still suffer together with Peter? Well, in this new chapter now you certainly will feel pity for Wendy for she learns of James' 'demise'. Yet there will be more going on in this chapter, like Dalton giving her a twisted report of what happened in Neverland and to Hook. And then Bumblyn and Nissa are meeting Peter…

So, have fun

Yours Lywhn / Starlight

Chapter 34 – Lies and Bad News

Dalton Ashford was on the way to his study. The talk with the boy had upset him. A lot. Not only his impertinence and lack of respect. His rarely used conscience was telling him that churl's accusations were spot on. He, Dalton Harvey Ashford, had wreaked disaster over peaceful people. Not just natives, not just "Indians," but men, women and children. Then the conflict with the Fae … well, he wasn't proud of the way he and the others had behaved. He remembered the first time he saw pixies. Back then, no older than the boy in the dungeon appeared, he had been fascinated to see them riding on the ponies in Dartmoor, and had felt a sincere awe at the realization that the Little People did really exist. Now he had chosen not only to fight them, but his hired men had surely killed men as they lay defenseless on the ground. That was … wrong.

Then the fire in the Indian camp. Dalton had not thought ahead, that stampede might result in something those consequences. He hadn't considered the open fires, that those carefully attended flames would break loose in devastation. Naïve. Too gentle a word for that carelessness. He shook his head; it was too late now to change anything about it now.

What he didn't regret was the combat with the pirates.

They were criminals … criminals of the worst kind. Murdering thieving rapists – the scum of the Seven Seas. In his opinion, there was no reason to show consideration for their health or life. Yes, Alister and Jackson had locked six of them up below deck and started a fire. Ordinarily, they would have been delivered to the next hangman, but there was no judge, no justice in Neverland, and therefore they got what they deserved. Burning someone alive was certainly cruel, but after all, the fire aboard had been doused before it got far, they could perceive that.

About Shalford - or 'Hook' as he called himself now - well, he had been the youngest son of a high-traitor, maybe even planned the entire scheme! He should have been hung or beheaded two hundred years ago, if he hadn't escaped his pursuers and English justice. He should have died all those years ago at sea or of old age, at least, but what happened? That bastard landed in a fantasy world and remained alive until now! At least in the end he had gotten what he deserved: death at the hand of an Ashford!

And even if some snarky voice in the back of his mind insisted that this cripple had been – indeed – a rival for him … well, Wendy Darling obviously had a little-girl crush on this scoundrel and to what this all could have led in the end had been seen, as Russell had noticed the love-bite at her neck. This had already progressed too far and Ashford was glad that he was able to retrieve the young woman to England before she fell for the seductive talents Shalford obviously possessed. And used. She would grieve for him, but she would get over it.

Hopefully the same applied to the boy.

Dalton grimaced. Even though 'Hook' and the youth had been bitter enemies earlier, the lad had been attached to the captain in the end. Odd. On the other hand, he had been raised in the wilderness and knew only the Indians, the Fae and the pirates, so a part of Ashford understood that the boy was mourning the captain now. But all he'd threatened to do were intolerable. He would give the miserable orphan a day, no more. Either he came around, or face the consequences. Dalton Ashford hadn't risked everything, even killed a man, only to allow a half-grown child -

"Milord? Miss Darling is awake."

The voice of Olivia, the one remaining servant who came up behind him interrupted his thoughts. He found that he stood at the door to his study, hand on the knob. Certainly for some time. Sighing, he turned around. "Alright, Olivia, I'm coming," he said, glancing at the maid who briefly curtseyed to him with large eyes. He crossed the entrance hall and climbed to the first upper level of the manor. He knocked at the door to the guestroom, then entered.

Wendy lay under generous covers in the large bed, pale and confused. Her walnut hair was spread over the pillows, eyes fluttering open at the gentle knock. Placing a calm smile on his face he closed the door, moving slowly toward the bed as if approaching a wild animal. Last time he faced her, she had been a wild animal, fighting with claws and teeth – or a sword. His wound still hurt.

"Good afternoon, my dear – or rather, good evening?" he said softly.

Wendy blinked. Her head felt twice its normal size, she had an unpleasant taste in her mouth. She felt dizzy and cold, and she hadn't the tiniest idea where she was. Disoriented, she glanced up at the young man who looked vaguely familiar, as did the room around her, then she moistened her lips and murmured, "Where am I?"

"At the manor – Ashford Manor," Dalton replied and sat down on he bed. "In your old guestroom," he added.

A crease appeared between her eyes. Ashford Manor? She had been there, before the ball – and before Peter came and took her and the boys back to Neverland. But how… "How did I get here?" she asked, because there, where her memories should be, was nothing.

Dalton tensed. Her condition didn't surprise him, after all chloroform had some temporary side-effects of disorientation, dizziness, and possibly brief amnesia. The latter gave him a chance to twist the truth a little to win her for himself. Yet he knew that he shouldn't overdo it, because if the lie was too broad, she would see through it and him the moment her memories returned. "I brought you back," he said slowly.

"You brought me back?" she repeated, searching her memory, and here and there a few pictures emerged through the fog. Jungle, forests, a sea, mountains, a camp, men in pale tan clothes … "You brought me back from Neverland?" she asked, puzzled. "Why?"

Dalton sighed. "Some friends and I travelled to the island to return you and your brothers to England – a promise I gave your parents. I learned of new dangers on the island. There were dragons and -"

"Stop!" Wendy lifted a trembling hand and closed her eyes. The images in her mind became clearer.

A large bonfire and copper-skinned people… A man's face framed by long black curls… Intense blue eyes were looking at her… Hook – James! They were dancing around this fire… Then she waltzed through a large, flamboyant room with him – his quarters … A dizzying kiss … she ran beside him down a hill, shots rang out behind them … A bath in the morning sea together, long arms around her… soft warm lips moving over her skin, whiskers scratched her softly … eyes, blue as forget-me-not looking possessively on her with fierce passion while bliss filled her … fire ashore, a forest in flames, screams from afar … this young man bursting into the cabin, followed by another man …

Wendy opened her eyes again. "I know you. You … you came and …"

She was in a boat … she rose to shield Hook against the shots from ashore … Dalton in the captain's quarters, wearing pirate clothes, outside the forest fire raged on Neverland … an argument, then a struggle, something was pressed against her mouth and nose with an ugly sweet stench … and then nothing.

"God damn you!" she whispered, while she struggled to sit up, realizing what happened. Something she had fought. "God damn you, Dalton Ashford! You took me away from Neverland!" she shouted.

He looked at her flashing eyes and raised his hands, as if to calm her. "Wendy, please listen. You were in danger there, even if you don't believe it. The dragons-"

"- were no danger to me," she hissed; her head growing clearer. "To any of us! How often must you hear it before it gets into your thick head!? They are highly intelligent, sensitive creatures and I even befriended one! If they really were virgin-eating monsters, they had plenty of chances to swallow me, but the younger ones played with the boys, the older ones talked with Peter, James, Great Big Little Panther and -" She gasped as another memory struck her. "The Indians! What did you do to them?"

Hm. This was a chapter he really wanted to forget, but couldn't ignore. Perhaps he could 're-write' it by twisting a few details. "My men and I had nothing to do with the stampede," he lied confidently. "We were packing up our belongings when the buffaloes must have been spooked and suddenly started running. Fortunately, they were yards away from the camp, or we would have been trampled like the Natives. I sent a couple of the men to the portal to prepare everything for our return, and took three of the others to the Indian village to see if we could help. On the way I saw the pirates landing ashore, and then knew how to talk to you one last time – maybe change your mind. Knowing that your friend Hook wouldn't agree to that, we used disguises to get aboard -"

"By stealing the clothes off the guards which were left with the longboats," Wendy snapped. "I know! What did you do to them?"

"They're well, so don't worry. We just took their clothes and bound them. I'm sure their captain found them when he returned to the ship," Ashford tried to play everything down. "We used one of the longboats and went aboard. There was no chance of reasoning with the big black pirate -"

"You mean Akeele."

He ignored her. "- and so we used that moment of surprise to lock them up below deck. In the meantime, I tried to talk to you, but you were … not yourself. So -"

Wendy was on her knees on the bed, bending forward, her eyes narrowed in suspicion and hostility. "I most certainly was myself, Viscount Dalton Ashford! I was completely in my right mind. I decided to remain in Neverland. And, no, my decision had nothing to do with a fairy-spell or whatever nonsense you made up that influenced my choice. The reason for my decision is quite simple: I'm in love with another man – someone who lives in Neverland – and I chose to remain at his side!" Her voice was unwavering and firm, despite still feeling dizzy and weak.

Ashford first felt doused with icy water, then hot with anger. So, the others were right. And, if he hadn't lied to himself, he would also have seen it: Wendy Darling was already in love and he knew exactly with whom. Not with the leaf-clad churl. She had outgrown the boy. No, her heart beat for that one-handed, bloody, thrice-damned rascal. Yet, what did a young girl know of love? A crush, that was all! Once again, Dalton congratulated himself for shooting the captain.

"But you couldn't accept it, could you?" Wendy continued, blood rushing into her pale cheeks, fearing that she would never be able to return to Neverland now. "You had to have your own way, force me back to England. And why? Certainly not because you gave my parents an ill-made promise to 'rescue' me. For you had ulterior motives-"

"Not true! I only wanted you safe again!" Dalton interrupted her, a vein pulsing at his right temple. This display of anger and rebellious disrespect were inacceptable!

"You wanted me to be safe? Safe?" Wendy continued hotly. "What right have you to invade my life with your wishes? We barely know each other-"

"Love at first sight," he retorted.

"- I gave you no reason to think that I had any feelings for you -"

"You only agreed that I could court you," he countered.

"Yes, after I was forced to agree to it, since you did it among all the people at the ball. Not in private! Not even asking me! Then I made it perfectly clear when we saw each other again in Neverland that I have no romantic interest in you. I told you I wouldn't go back to England. I used clear and unmistakable phrases, but you couldn't accept it. You couldn't accept it! Perhaps I should have tried words of one syllable! Instead, you meddled with my friends, your men even opened fire on James – shooting at us from behind as we retreated and didn't even stop when we rowed away! They only stopped shooting when I put myself between your men's muzzles and James-"

"Which was the stupidest thing you could do," Dalton hissed. "You could have died!"

"Oh my, James and you are on the same page for once, because he said the same to me after we reached the ship." Sarcasm layered in her voice. "But whom do I have to thank for being forced to take such a risk, hm? There was no other way to keep James safe, so …"

Ashford saw the chance to get out the half-truth about 'James's' fate – now or never. "Wendy," he interrupted gently, "was James Hook the man you have feelings for?" he asked, pretending to be unaware of her feelings for the captain.

Sitting on her heels on the bed and straightening her shoulders, she proudly lifted her head. "Yes," she answered strongly. "I love him," she declared firmly. "We belong to each other." She saw him raise an eyebrow and look at her searchingly.

So, the professor, Anders, Russell, Brynna … they had all been right. That scumbag had wrapped her around his little finger, possibly attempting to seduce her. It was a good thing that the damaged bastard was rotting in hell now. After a time of mourning, she would come around, realize that her crush was not a solid foundation for a good marriage, and do the only rational thing possible: accept his suit.

But he knew that he had to bring the death of Shalford to her carefully, with just the right spin. The next minutes would be essential for his intentions. Somehow he managed to force a startled expression onto his face. "I almost thought so," he murmured. "The way you defended him …" He sadly shook his head, but inside he was glad that she had just furnished him a fit occasion for what he had to tell her. "I am sorry," he added quietly.

"As you should be," the girl nodded angrily; not understanding the apology. "You took me away from the home of my heart, now Neverland is where the man lives that I love. And I don't know if I can return to it at all!" Her face had flushed, her eyes glared daggers at him.

Dalton cleared his throat, giving himself confounded. "Even if you could return, I don't think … that you … would have a happy ending," he said softly.

Wendy frowned. "What are you trying to say? Do you think James would let me down? Never! He may be a pirate, but he is also a man of honor. Good form is most important to him. And, by the way, I know he feels the same as I!" She was more than indignant now. How dare he doubt James' sincerity? Their unique relationship had grown since the moment they met! Great day in the morning, James had had visions about her before she returned to Neverland a few days ago! They shared a link no-one else would understand.

"No," Dalton answered and shook again his head. "No, I don't doubt that he had real feelings for you. He came after us as we took you back on land. I remember the concern he displayed on your behalf. Indeed he must have been enamored with you. But he was much older than you – almost as old as your father…"

The terminology he'd used now for the second time pierced her thinking. "What do you mean with 'he had feelings' or 'he was much older'?" she demanded. As he avoided her gaze, she pressed him, "Why do you speak in the past tense about him?" As he bit his lips, lowered his head and finally glanced sideways, avoiding her eyes, fear now touched her. "Dalton, what did you do?"

Ashford waited a few seconds more, before he murmured, "There … was an incident. Or more like an accident."

"What accident?" Wendy croaked. As he continued to stare at the floor now, her suspicion grew. Reaching out, she grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. "Did … did something happen to him?"

Finally, Dalton looked up at her. "We reached the portal and were attacked by fairies and I don't know what all from the island. Your little friend, the boy in leaves…"

"Peter?"

He nodded. "Yes, Peter was there, too. Brynna warned us that the so-called 'Little People' can become very naughty, so she gave us some plants we could use as defense. When we were attacked, the plants kept the little devils at bay – but not the pirates. Sha … Hook had come after us with the half of his crew, I would guess. Mr. Anders was able to catch Peter Pan and Hook ceased to fight so as not to endanger the boy – don't ask me why he thought we would harm a child. Mr. Anders was quite angry with your friend and held him rather harshly – an action I have since reprimanded him for. I think that was the reason why Hook stayed back. Then one of the men opened the portal and … and … and your captain thought it was time to attack again. There was some shooting." He saw her pale and placed his hand over hers, feeling her fingers trembling.

"What … happened … to James?" He could barely hear her.

"I'm not entirely sure, everything seemed to happen all at once. I think it was a ricochet. I heard the special sound it made and … saw the bullet hit him. In the chest." He took a deep breath as he watched her widening eyes, full of horror. He was almost sorry he couldn't spare her the rest. "As we fled through the portal I looked back. He lay on the ground, eyes closed. And … there was so much blood." He bit his lips convincingly. "I'm sorry, Wendy. I don't know if he was killed but … I do know that such a wound is fatal. Even today with modern medicine it would be impossible to save someone who got a bullet directly into the heart." He was able to display some compassion. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

Wendy sat blank faced. Then she paled dramatically, eyes filling with tears. "No!" she whispered and fiercely shook her head. "No, you're mistaken. He's not dead!" He couldn't be dead. Not her James! It was a lie to make her give up hope of being reunited with James, nothing more!

"Wendy …" Dalton began.

"You're mistaken! He's gotten worse! He's survived everything! The crocodile, the harpies, the dark wizard – he can survive a bullet!" Her voice became shriller. No, James wasn't dead! Not possible – not him! Her heart told her this, her mind shouted at her not to believe the viscount.

"A bullet to the heart is deadly. There's no way to change that," he repeated the fact, sounding still gentle.

His rational response provoked the opposite in her. "NO!" she shrieked, while the first tears spilled over as shock transformed into an all-consuming pain, because her brain told her that a bullet into the heart was indeed deadly. "No, you're wrong! It was someone else!"

Denial. Ashford knew the news would come with a strong reaction, but he hadn't guessed this one. "Wendy, dear, please listen. I know you're hurt, and if I could tell you something else, I would, but I did see him lying there. He was motionless and with blood staining his shirt. I even heard a few of the pirates shouting that he was dead, after they ran to him." He watched her shaking her head again.

"No, no, he made it! He's stronger than that!"

"Wendy, he certainly had been a strong man who survived more than anyone else, but – please believe me – he was killed in the struggle. I'm so sorry for you, but I can't tell you an untruth because you don't want the truth." He sounded calm, reasonable but also soft. Only someone who knew him very well, someone like Brynna, could have heard the edge in his voice, the impatience.

An icy fist seemed to grip her heart and squeeze it. There was a buzzing in her ears, while a voice in her continued to shout 'no-no-no-no'. Dalton reached out to her, but she slapped his hand away. "Don't you touch me! Don't you dare to touch me, you bastard!" she yelled. And as her blurred gaze saw the feigned pity on his face she began to grasp that he told her the truth. James was dead, because … The realization hit her with force. "You did this! You-"

"Wendy, it was an accident," he kept up the lie. "I don't even know whose pistol fired the fatal bullet. It might even have been a ricochet from his own men."

Her little fists began to punch him as agony filled her. "You did this! If you hadn't come to Neverland, if you wouldn't have kidnapped me, it never would have come to this accident!" she screamed, "You killed him!"

He caught her wrists and held them tight; carefully so as not to hurt her. "Wendy, I know that this is a shock for you. You lost someone you had feelings f-"

"You know nothing!" she exclaimed, yanking her hands from his grasp. "Let go off me! LET GO!" she screeched and skidded backwards to the other side of the bed, as far away from him as possible. Pulling her knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them like a protective shield. She was weeping openly now; strong, harsh sobs wracked her body. "Go! Go! I don't want to see you ever again! Go! Leave the room! LEAVE!"

Dalton knew that it was the only decent thing he could do, leave her alone, give her time to grieve. Rising he stepped back from the bed. "I'm sorry, Wendy. This was not my intention, but it is not my fault that Hook got killed. He was at the wrong place at the wrong time and-" She pressed her hands over her ears, closed her eyes and wildly shook her head. She was out of reach, and so he did the only thing possible: he left.

The moment the door closed behind him, Wendy clawed her fingers into her hair, hid her face between her knees and let out a rising scream in which all the pain, loss and despair filling her echoed.

James was dead! Her beloved pirate – her very own villain with the eyes blue as forget-me-nots. The man who first starred in her stories – the dark figure every good story needs but who had held her fascination even when she realized that he was indeed a dangerous rogue. The man who had first threatened and then protected her. The man who ran after her to prevent her from drowning in a tidal wave; from being torn apart by man-eating harpies. The man who had teased but also scolded her, listened and understood her. The man who had inspired her more than Peter had been able to do. The man who had awoken the woman in her when she was still a child. The man who had first haunted her stories and dreams, and later had invaded her dreams in a very different manner, leaving her mornings with a strange yearning in heart. The man with whom dancing had been truly fun for the first time. The man with whom she had shared her first real kiss. The man who had carried her over the threshold to adulthood. The man in whose arms she had lain only last night, bringing her bliss and a flight to the stars with his extraordinary human magic.

He was gone. He would never stride through a door again, filling a room with his presence without a word. He would never again smirk at her with his infuriating all-knowing grin. Never again hold her in his arms. Never again hear him calling her all those nicknames or would feel his fingers, rough from the hard work at sea, dance over her cheeks. She would never have his hot demanding lips on hers again …

Wendy's mind was going blank in order to protect itself against the intense pain in her heart, while only one thing echoed through her being: he is gone, he is gone, he is gone …

Outside of her room, in the hallway, Brynna Lunette met Dalton. She heard the girl's scream, saw Dalton's frustration and shook her head, murmuring, "It didn't go well."

The young man looked at the closed door. "She's hysterical because the bastard is dead. You were right, as was Anders and Hutchings. She had romantic feelings for Shalford." He looked at the old woman. "She said she doesn't want to see me again."

Brynna looked at him. "Of course not," she replied sardonically, "you killed the man she loved."

Dalton snorted. "She doesn't even know that much. I told her a ricochet hit and killed him."

Lunette lifted both brows. "Clever!" Then she sighed. "Yet I think you made a tragic mistake by killing him. He wouldn't have been able to leave Neverland, so he wouldn't be your rival any longer. She would have been separated from him nonetheless but knowing him alive and well, possibly she could have made her peace with the fact that her time in Neverland was over."

Ashford frowned. "She never would have given up on him. She never would have relinquished her search for a way back to the island. But knowing him dead now-"

"Knowing him dead her heart is now broken, I know. Yet, in the end she will overcome her grief. It's an old saying that time heals all wounds, but never underestimate the power of a girl's first love. He always will be first in her heart – and you're the one who told her about his death. So …"

"She considers me the guilty party because my arrival in Neverland set the ball rolling that led to the captain's demise," Dalton grumbled.

Brynna nodded. "Then pray that she never learns the real truth, or any chance you might have had to win her will be forfeit – if it isn't already too late for that."

Ashford sighed and rubbed his sore arm. "I hoped that I could comfort her, but-"

"At present, she will not be comforted. The first the pain has to subside to a bearable level." She looked towards the guestroom, where still sobs could still be heard through the thick door. "I'll give her something that will calm her down." She laid a hand on his arm. "And you, my dear boy, need patience. Patience and wisdom, or this all will come back on you sooner or later."

*** PP ***

Peter sat down on the shelf posing as a bed after the big old man left. Burying his bare feet in the straw to keep them warm and pulling his knees to his chest again, he tried to forget the chill that had begun to seep under his skin. He wasn't used to feeling cold. Neverland was a tropical island. When he flew to England, Tinker Bell's fairy dust magic mostly shielded him against winter temperatures. He could get wet when it was raining and he was careful when it came to thunderstorms, but usually he didn't think about weather at all. The last time he had felt this cold was as S'Hadh, the dark warlock, had produced winter over Neverland, and then he had gotten warm clothes from the Indians. Despite the large jacket, he felt the cool damp air of the dungeons.

Propping his chin on his knees, he hugged his legs. He wasn't hungry or thirsty, only angry and sad. So very, deeply sad, because the man he had once loathed with a passion and who had become like a father, was dead.

New tears welled up and Peter angrily wiped them away. He could cry later, now he had to think of a way to escape, to rescue Wendy and to avenge Hook. He knew that the pirate captain would have done the same. 'First things first', like he'd said on a few occasions and Peter understood now what 'the codfish' had meant with those words.

But what should he do? What could he do? If he could do something about the shackles …

"Peter?"

The voice was very quiet – and very familiar.

Eyes wide, the boy lifted his head and looked toward the bars. He saw a tiny figure standing there. Someone he knew very well, the fire-red hair, the long pointed ears and a tail wrapped around one little arm. It rubbed its round nose with its free hand.

"Bumblyn?" he asked, stunned, then a smile spread over his dirty face. "Bumblyn! How did you get here?" he asked happily, going as near to the bars as the chains allowed it.

The Hobgoblin squeezed himself between the bars into the cell, trotting with his short legs to the youth, who picked up the unexpected visitor and returned to the bed. Without hesitation Bumblyn perched on the boy's lap and looked up at him. "Aw, poor Peter," he cooed full of compassion, while he stretched himself to pat the child on the shoulder. "So sorry I am for your loss," he whispered.

Peter carefully wrapped both arms around the little bogey. "Bumblyn, I'm so glad that you're here," he whispered. "Where is Wendy? Have you seen her? Is she well? Do you know that Ashford also stole a dragon egg? Have you any idea where they have it? And-"

"Stop, stop," Bumblyn interrupted with giggle. "Not at once for everything." He sighed and leaned back into Peter's hands. "Creeping into the large bag I did, the dragon egg bag. Like this poor Bumblyn ended here. Not seeing have I the Wendy-lady. To a guest room she was brought, because fleeing I must not to be seen." He lowered his head. "The viscount … a bad, bad man he is. Chaining you up, he did," he touched the shackle around Peter's right wrist, "and … and killing the captain he did."

Peter gulped and nodded. "Yes, and I will get him for what he did to us all," he said quietly, fiercely. "But first I must get out of here. Do you know where the keys are?"

"Brynna Lunette or the dorcha bhiorach have them," another voice said from beyond the bars, and as Peter looked up, startled, he recognized another member of the Good Neighbors. One like he'd never seen before, yet it was clear that the little creature belonged to them. He identified her with a look at her pointed ears, upturned nose, brown and very wrinkled face, the tattered dress and the longs arms, and her large dark eyes. Peter had a second sense when it came to the Little People, and he felt that she belonged to the good ones.

Standing up and still holding Bumblyn, he bowed slightly, "Greetings, Mum," he said, showing how polite he could be.

Nissa's eyes widened. Never had she been addressed as 'Mum'. Not even her beloved Lady Maire, Master Jamie's mother, had called her that. She gave a little smile – an expression that had become so strange to her that her muscles nearly creaked as they moved in the upward direction. "Good evening, Peter Pan," she said. "Hearing of you I did – from the pixies in the fields and the fairies in the woods. And Bumblyn of you told very well."

Peter sat again, looking at her. "Here are pixies and fairies?" he asked, excited. If fairies were here, his chances of freedom would be ensured.

"In earlier times many of them were here," Nissa nodded. "Hiding now they do, not often they're seen anymore." She smoothened out her dress. "Nissa is my name," she introduced herself, giving a brief curtsey.

"A Brownie," Bumblyn added. "A Brownie-lady – rarely seen by humans." He winked at Peter, who smiled back. The boy felt more confident now; a Brownie and a Hobgoblin! And when he looked at this so-called Brownie he felt that he could trust her. Between the three of them, there was nothing they couldn't do!

"I'm very glad that you two are here. Can you tell me about Wendy?"

Bumblyn grimaced and it was Nissa who answered, "In a guestroom she is – one we've no way to reach. Waiting we must 'til we can slip into the room, but now sleeping she is."

Peter nodded. Right, Wendy was still sleeping and he suspected that her long sleep had something to do with Ashford. Maybe he gave her something, just like he did when he kidnapped her. Another reason to make the man pay! Burying his cold feet in the straw again, he took a deep breath. "Can you tell me what's going on? I understand why Ashford kidnapped Wendy, but why me? And why the dragon egg?"

Both little creatures looked at one another, and Peter knew he wouldn't like what he was about to hear now. And he would be right…

*** PP ***

Wendy heard a knocking at the door, sounding like it was far away. She ignored it. She didn't want to see anyone. She didn't want to talk to anyone. All she wanted was to be left alone – unless it was James who walked through her door, taunting her that tears were really no way a pirate like Red-Handed Jill should act. Or he would take her in his arms. Of course he would rebuke her tears. She knew he hated female hysterics, most men did, but he knew how to comfort her. He had already done it a few times, and she always felt better afterwards.

She shook her head. Never again. He was dead and…

"Miss Darling, I so regret what happened." The old voice belonged to Brynna Lunette. Wendy didn't look up. Ignoring her manners, she buried her face deeper into the pillow.

Brynna looked down at the young girl in the yellow dress. The girl had rolled herself into a ball and was still weeping. The old woman hoped that the child wouldn't grow ill in the emotional turmoil, and placed the tray with the tea and the added sleeping potion on the nightstand. "I brought you some tea – fennel tea. It calms the stomach and your nerves." She sat down on the bed, reached out and gently stroked the jerking shoulders.

Wendy pulled back like a scalded cat. "Don't!" she choked out. "I want nothing to do with you or your wayward charge!"

"Child, what happened was terrible, I know. It never should have come to that, but you can't change it." Lunette's voice was quite gentle. Again, she reached out to gently touch Wendy's shoulder. "Just cry it out. Only a wound that bleeds can heal, and tears be blood of the soul."

All Wendy heard was 'wound' and 'bleed', which once again brought the image to mind of James lying on the ground, blood flowering from his chest – and the agony wrenched her heart.

Brynna held her tongue and remained there until the girl wept herself to sleep a half hour later. Only then did she leave, knowing that the young woman would be thirsty when waking. Then Lunette would get some of Wendy's blood again without the girl knowing. This was essential that she remained unaware that her blood was necessary to open the portal to Neverland, because if she thought there was no possibility of a return to the island ever again, she would recover from her loss sooner, possibly allowing Dalton to win Miss Darling's affection … possibly.

*** PP *** PP ***

That "dead" man was standing at one of the unbroken windows in his quarters and looked outside, watching the Never Sea turn to a cold slush. Before long the ship would be stuck in the ice. He hoped the fairies would have a few tricks up their non-existent sleeves for pulling the Jolly Roger out of it. The snow fell steadily on Neverland – more harsh than usual when Peter left for the Mainland. Did the island feel that its source of eternal summer and joy had been stolen? Or – maybe – it felt the boy's suffering.

Sighing Hook rubbed his chin with his left hand. He had washed and changed in the Black Castle before coming aboard, handing the other clothes over to Smee to care for "when he found the time." Smee sighed. The captain's coat had suffered from the sparks and grim from the fire. The breeches and the waistcoat were hardly better. At least Hook was clean again, yet his eyes were still red from the smoke that morning, and his voice was hoarse from the fumes and the screaming after Ashford's successful escape through the portal.

"I think I got a solution, Cap'n." Robert Mullins, who had inspected the damage below deck and now in Hook's quarters, turned around to him. "We t'row th' rests of th' burned escritoire an' th' charred bookshelves out, block th' windows with planks an' partition off th' damaged part of th' room with a temporary wall."

Hook looked critically around the damaged portion of his quarters. The seawater Pan had used to douse the flames had drenched the floor and most of the carpets, one of them already removed. The escritoire was charred like half of the bookshelf. James didn't even want to know which of his precious books had been destroyed by the flames. The window frames were blackened, the beautiful colored panels were non-existent, and the crown molding was partially destroyed. It might have been enough to make him weep, but if Hook did weep, then it would have been born of rage. How dare those bastards attack his ship? His men? His own private quarters? Hadn't the Ashfords done enough to him, destroying his family, killing his father and brothers? Did the devil himself send one of the descendants to finish this 'work'?

And he forbade himself to think of Wendy and the little flying idiot just then, because then he would have started throwing things, or open the liquor cabinet and drunk himself into a daisy-faced stupor only to forget the pain and worry.

Taking a deep breath – vagrants and vandals, this air stank! – he mulled over Robert Mullins' suggestion. "I agree with the first two parts of your idea, but what about the temporary wall? How would you do that? We haven't enough planks aboard, and the damage on the second cannon deck also has to be repaired."

Robert grinned, ready with a solution. "T' be sure, Cap'n, we use the tops from th' tables in th' Black Castle; bring 'em t' th' ship and I'll build th' wall from 'em. Tha'll put y'r quarters back in order, an' block out th' smell." Surprised, the ship's commander looked at him. Mullins might be victim of the superstitions of ten, but he was a gifted carpenter with some good ideas. "An', once back in London, we'll find a shop tha' can repair anythin' t' yer full likin', Capt'n," Mullins added, and Hook nodded slowly. A quick and simple solution to the problem in his quarters. The damage below deck was another problem, but one that wouldn't prevent them weighing anchor soon.

"Right, take whomever you need and start with the repairs. I want depart as soon as possible."

Robert saluted. "Aye, Cap'n."

A now familiar 'pop' behind James announced Esteban's arrival. Hook sighed. He had neither the time nor the energy to spar with the ship's sprite, but to ignore the bogey was useless. Additionally, the creature mostly appeared when something important had or would happen. "What is it, Esteban?" he asked impatiently, turning.

"You won't like this," the bogey mumbled. He wore a bandage around his head in place of his bandana and the little tri-corner hat. But at least he was clean again after fighting the fire with Peter.

"There is quite a bit I don't like at the moment," Hook snapped. "So out with it."

Esteban grimaced. "They pinched some of your stuff," he said slowly.

The captain blinked a few times. "Pardon?"

Esteban cleared his throat, throwing a look at Mullins, who watched him with utmost wariness, and repeated, "You were robbed. One of the enemies searched through your belongings and took your jewels with him."

So, it was 'out' – and the reaction came promptly. Hook's eyes narrowed to small slits and he snarled. Going to his desk and opening one of the drawers, he instantly noticed the box missing and red sparks began to dance in his eyes. "So, not only a kidnapper and murderer, but also a common thief," James growled. "Ashford, you are the pot calling the kettle black. I'll get you for this, too. You and your thugs, be sure of it!"

"It was the guy I stabbed in the leg," Esteban continued. "Short dark hair, trimmed beard, dark eyes – an unpleasant maromo (bugger)."

Mullins thought a moment, avoiding the Klabautermann, then spoke to Hook: "I think tha's the same bloke wounded by th' mermaid. Ther's blood on th' longboat's gunnel where he sat. When we followed him and th' ot'ers, th' creatures attacked. One jump'd out and I heard a shout. When I looked over, I saw 'im 'oldin' 'is 'and and starin' at it afore 'e fired at th' fishlady, but she's already underwater."

"One of the mermaids got him?" Hook asked, and as Mullins nodded, he snorted with a wicked grin. "Serves him right," he said disdainfully. Esteban chuckled and rubbed his hands in glee.

"Capt'n?" Mullins asked.

"Remember one thing, Mr. Mullins: a wound inflicted by magical creatures often has side effects. And given the mischievous nature of our mermaids, I'm certain that the idiot will soon have problems he never imagined," his superior explained, gloating. Hook closed the drawer and looked at Short Tom's empty cage. The parrot had flown away the moment James opened the door and had flown up into the riggings. The odor the fire left there and beneath deck was intense. "Keep the windows open as long as no snow comes inside," he instructed the carpenter. "How many tabletops will you need?"

Robert, who decided not to think closer about what a mermaid's claws could do to a man, shrugged. "Difficult t' say, Capt'n. Depends on their length."

"Measure up and get me the details. I'll return to the Black Castle and gather as many tabletops and other wood for construction as possible, along with everything we want to take with us." Glancing out the window again, he grumbled. "It won't be long and the sea will be frozen over. Afterward it would be dangerous if not impossible to transport larger things over the ice." Throwing his thick, wool-lined velvet cape around himself and placing one of his large with feather decorated hats on his head, he left to inspect the damage done to the second cannon deck.

"Take th' companionway near th' bow, Capt'n," Mullins called after him. "Th' other steps won't carry yer weight."

Hook threw up his hand and claw. "More good news!" he said sarcastically. "I hope Ashford and his crew are finding extra trouble at the moment!"

*** PP *** PP ***

A high pitched scream echoed in the hallway of Ashford Manor. Seconds later a few doors flew open in the west wing of the manor, and voices demanded what was going on.

In the kitchen a startled Olivia turned away from the sink where she washed dishes. Everyone had eaten, except Miss Darling and the injured man. With pounding heart, she hastened to the kitchen door, opened it an inch and listened. She heard confused voices from the hunters, then the sharp voice of Miss Lunette, who seemed to come from the cellars. "What's going on up there?"

Again the male voice screamed, this time it lingered and repeated. Whoever it was, he was hysterical. And the girl guessed that the shouts came from the guestroom where the injured man rested. A moment later, she heard the viscount's voice, "Brynna, come quick!" There was an odd tone in his tenor, something sharp and cool.

"On my way," came the answer; the old woman's voice definitely irritated.

Closing the door again, Olivia remained behind it and pressed her hands against her wildly beating heart. Since the viscount's return, the atmosphere in the manor had become … colder darker. It had been eerie to be here alone with only the old lady as 'companion'. The air surrounding the sinister woman in black always made her wary around the former nanny. And now the viscount shared this same 'twilight' that seemed to surround him like an aura and even affected the whole house. She couldn't give it a better name.

And what was that sweet young Miss Darling doing here – clad in a dirty old yellow dress and that mark at her neck? Olivia had loosened the girl's clothes to make her more comfortable. The marks on her skin could have gotten there only by a man wooing her, and intimately kissing her.

And then those cries from her guestroom after she woke up, only to sleep now like the dead … The girl was very upset after talking with the viscount, that much was clear. Additionally, what was that bundle one of the hunters had carried in at their arrival? It sounded absurd, but Olivia thought that it held a child. And they took it down into the cellars – to the dungeons maybe.

And now these awful screams! Sweet dandykins, what was going on in this house?

*** PP ***

Alister and Wickham held a panicking Edgar Russell on the bed, while Morton held the man's left wrist in an iron grip, sure to keep his grip on the shirt and not the skin. Ashford stood beside the bed and watched Lunette examining the injury with a grim expression. What had been revealed to him the moment he had entered Russell's guestroom and saw Alister and Wickham holding the man down, had shocked him. And Lunette seemed to be uncertain, too – a rare event.

But not so rare as the sight of Russell's left hand and arm. There, where the mermaid's claws had left four long scratches, the skin wasn't inflamed anymore, because there was no skin. Silvery shimmering fish-scales spread from the wounds to the fingers and to the wrist, cool and smooth to the touch, but oh so inhuman…

TBC…

Ha, you didn't see this coming, do you? A curse of the mermaids. Well, you could feel sorry for Russell if he wouldn't have had such a big part in Wendy's and Peter's kidnapping. The latter is really the worst – not only for our storyteller, but also for Peter whose worst fear is about to become true.

In the next chapter, you – dear readers – will learn that the link between Neverland and the Mainland still exists, because Hook gets two visions, one even about Peter. And the latter will be in need because Lunette is going to take from him what she wants, what makes Dalton taking action to get rid of Peter by searching for an orphanage that doesn't follow so strictly the new protection laws for children.

I hope, you liked the new chapter despite Wendy's suffering. The re-union will be all the sweeter. Please, leave some reviews. I know that for many readers school has started and that there is a lot to do, but we authors are 'living' from feedback just like an actor from the applause, so please let me know what you think of the chapter.

Have a nice Sunday and a good start into the next week,

Love

Yours Lywhn / Starflight