Chapter 3 - Captain Hook
A dim, purple sky hovered over Neverland as it lay in a seemingly perpetual winter. Frost covered the entire island, causing it to twinkle like a crystal tiara atop a blue pillow that stretched in all directions. The sea was frozen still and dusted with snow that reflected the stars glittering above. The only crack marring the smoothness of the surface was a large barque ship, held fast by the surrounding ice. Its wooden sides were speckled with snow and ice. Small, contained fires burned on deck to warm the crew still who worked tirelessly to protect the ship from frost. They worked mostly in silence, listening to the sounds of ice being scraped off the ropes and the crackle of their fires.
Within the great cabin at the stern, though, a loud noise pierced the darkness as metal slammed into wood. "Damn it all, Smee, why can't that bloody little ingrate just stay put?!" The first noise was followed by several more clanging bangs as Captain James Hook of The Jolly Roger drove his hook deeper and deeper into his desk. "Where does he even go? What business could he possibly have anywhere else?" Infuriated, he tossed a large metal cup across the warmly lit cabin where it smashed into an expensive bottle not two inches from Smee's head.
"Ohsweetmercy," breathed the boatswain as he tentatively patted his head. "Ah, Captain, ain't it, ah, good… that… he's… gone…?" Smee pulled his hat over his ears more before bending to clean the shattered glass. "I mean, you do so hate him, and—"
"And what, Smee? And so I ought to be happy when he disappears to wherever it is he goes—and really, where could the brat be going; what could he have to do—GAH!" Hook breathed in slowly and spoke in a low voice that increased in volume as he went on, "Ought I to be pleased that the horrid little thing can disappear on a whim and completely desolate the island?!" He smashed his hook into the desk again, this time leaving it stuck, and collapsed into a padded red chair. "Oh, Smee." His left hand covered his eyes and rubbed at them. "It isn't only the ice, you know."
"No, Cap'n?"
"Aye, Smee."
Smee waited for more, but it didn't come, so he finished sweeping up the bottle and dumped its remains into a rubbish bin. He stepped over to his captain and began prying the hook out of its wooden prison. "Well, sir, even if it ain't only the ice, I reckon Pan'll be back soon," Smee grunted as he labored to pull the hook out. When he finally succeeded, he wiped it off with an embroidered cloth from the desk and laid it in front of Hook while saying, "So's when the boy does show up, you'll be ready for 'im."
A heavy sigh left the Captain, but he pulled on his harness and screwed the hook into it. Smee was clever enough in a simple way, and Hook trusted him, but something stopped the captain from sharing the whole of his anger. It wasn't enough for Pan to take away his hand; he took away his freedom, too. Anything Hook might have wanted to do besides hunt the boy was null because as soon as Pan was bored he could leave Neverland, which would be welcome if it didn't mean The Jolly Roger was encased in ice. Sometimes Hook wondered if he ought to have let the crocodile eat him, but that would really have given Pan everything.
"Now, Cap'n, sir, what sort of suit do you think for today?" Smee asked, buttoning down the shirt of his captain.
Hook waved his left hand lazily and sighed, his face painted with a sadness that enhanced the already fine features, making him as near beautiful as a mortal man could be. "The purple one, Smee," he said. (Even in sadness he was more than a little vain.)
Smee held first the waistcoat and then the jacket out for Hook to slip his arms through the sleeves, and then the boatswain would do up the buttons and lace up the boots. It was not a wholly offensive routine for the captain, who never minded being waited on, but knowing it was even a little out of necessity somewhat angered him to the process. Even the small details of his life inevitably led back to Pan. As he grumbled over this last realization, the distinct and familiar groan of ice cracking pulled the captain out of his thoughts. The corners of his mouth perked into a terrible smile, a smile that forgot his deep melancholy and some of his loveliness. The brat was back!
Chapter 3 - Captain Hook
A dim, purple sky hovered over Neverland as it lay in a seemingly perpetual winter. Frost covered the entire island, causing it to twinkle like a crystal tiara atop a blue pillow that stretched in all directions. The sea was frozen still and dusted with snow that reflected the stars glittering above. The only crack marring the smoothness of the surface was a large barque ship, held fast by the surrounding ice. Its wooden sides were speckled with snow and ice. Small, contained fires burned on deck to warm the crew still who worked tirelessly to protect the ship from frost. They worked mostly in silence, listening to the sounds of ice being scraped off the ropes and the crackle of their fires.
Within the great cabin at the stern, though, a loud noise pierced the darkness as metal slammed into wood. "Damn it all, Smee, why can't that bloody little ingrate just stay put?!" The first noise was followed by several more clanging bangs as Captain James Hook of The Jolly Roger drove his hook deeper and deeper into his desk. "Where does he even go? What business could he possibly have anywhere else?" Infuriated, he tossed a large metal cup across the warmly lit cabin where it smashed into an expensive bottle not two inches from Smee's head.
"Ohsweetmercy," breathed the boatswain as he tentatively patted his head. "Ah, Captain, ain't it, ah, good… that… he's… gone…?" Smee pulled his hat over his ears more before bending to clean the shattered glass. "I mean, you do so hate him, and—"
"And what, Smee? And so I ought to be happy when he disappears to wherever it is he goes—and really, where could the brat be going; what could he have to do—GAH!" Hook breathed in slowly and spoke in a low voice that increased in volume as he went on, "Ought I to be pleased that the horrid little thing can disappear on a whim and completely desolate the island?!" He smashed his hook into the desk again, this time leaving it stuck, and collapsed into a padded red chair. "Oh, Smee." His left hand covered his eyes and rubbed at them. "It isn't only the ice, you know."
"No, Cap'n?"
"Aye, Smee."
Smee waited for more, but it didn't come, so he finished sweeping up the bottle and dumped its remains into a rubbish bin. He stepped over to his captain and began prying the hook out of its wooden prison. "Well, sir, even if it ain't only the ice, I reckon Pan'll be back soon," Smee grunted as he labored to pull the hook out. When he finally succeeded, he wiped it off with an embroidered cloth from the desk and laid it in front of Hook while saying, "So's when the boy does show up, you'll be ready for 'im."
A heavy sigh left the Captain, but he pulled on his harness and screwed the hook into it. Smee was clever enough in a simple way, and Hook trusted him, but something stopped the captain from sharing the whole of his anger. It wasn't enough for Pan to take away his hand; he took away his freedom, too. Anything Hook might have wanted to do besides hunt the boy was null because as soon as Pan was bored he could leave Neverland, which would be welcome if it didn't mean The Jolly Roger was encased in ice. Sometimes Hook wondered if he ought to have let the crocodile eat him, but that would really have given Pan everything.
"Now, Cap'n, sir, what sort of suit do you think for today?" Smee asked, buttoning down the shirt of his captain.
Hook waved his left hand lazily and sighed, his face painted with a sadness that enhanced the already fine features, making him as near beautiful as a mortal man could be. "The purple one, Smee," he said. (Even in sadness he was more than a little vain.)
Smee held first the waistcoat and then the jacket out for Hook to slip his arms through the sleeves, and then the boatswain would do up the buttons and lace up the boots. It was not a wholly offensive routine for the captain, who never minded being waited on, but knowing it was even a little out of necessity somewhat angered him to the process. Even the small details of his life inevitably led back to Pan. As he grumbled over this last realization, the distinct and familiar groan of ice cracking pulled the captain out of his thoughts. The corners of his mouth perked into a terrible smile, a smile that forgot his deep melancholy and some of his loveliness. The brat was back!