The Midnight Tower

Wendy had barely a moment to react to Hook's declaration of dragons before he turned and tugged her gently along with him ever forward to the looming doors of the Midnight Tower. He held her hands against his hooked arm and spoke softly as they ascended a shallow staircase toward large, flower pressed crystalline doors set in the midnight stone of the tower's face.

Hook's whispers were concise, calculated, and clear. "Wendy, what you need to know first and foremost is that we are walking into a rivalrous body of Neverland's denizens. You are familiar with Pirates, Indians, Merpeople, and Fairies. Today you will also meet the local Port Star folk, and the Queries."

"The Queries?" she asked in a hushed tone as he ushered her carefully through the first arched doorway.

"Yes, but let us discuss them later?" he asked, glancing down and turning himself to stand between her and the antechamber of what was clearly a large and looming space ahead. She nodded. "Wendy, I need you to know that you are safe here; no harm will come to you. Discordant as its members might be, The Midnight Tower is a warless place, and even if it were not, I would die before harm came to you."

"Of course, Captain."

"You are with me as my second voice. You have the right to speak here, with or without my consultation. Please do not waste it. Speak up when you believe it is helpful."

Wendy's eyes stretched wider than she thought possible as she took in his direction. "Sir… you… surely you mea—"

"I mean exactly what I said, Wendy," Hook said, and he smiled with more sweetness than she recalled ever lurking on his lips. He brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek and, to her great surprise (and maybe to his), he leaned forward to press his lips against her forehead in a hard kiss. His face was all business when he pulled back, but his eyes smiled. "I brought you with me for a reason. I desire your perspective. Speak freely, and know that you have my support."

She nodded, still feeling his lips hot on her forehead. Despite having just been given the figurative reins to ride wild in a public forum and also a kiss from Captain James Hook, Wendy's thoughts were mostly with how annoyed she was that he had not brought any of this up prior to their arrival at the Midnight Tower. It seemed important enough that he might have mentioned it sooner, although she supposed he might be vague at times. Only, no, he wasn't. So why was he this time?

"Captain, why did you not mention this on the ship or during our walk?"

"It is the way of the Midnight Tower. We cannot speak of it beyond the star belt." His gaze dropped to the floor where hers followed it and Wendy saw her heels just barely over the edge of the convergence of those little bright pebbles she'd noticed peppering the outside cobblestones which were fully realized into a wide ring.

"Oh."

"Yes," he a little bit hissed. "I am sorry, my lady, that I could not be clearer about our situation, but rules—especially magic ones—are rules, in this case, even for me."

"I understand."

"Do you?"

"As much as I might be able to," she said.

He smiled. "Wonderful." He held out his right arm and eagerly accepted her hands over it as he led them over the threshold of the second circle of white stars in the floor. "At the very least," he whispered, "I think you'll quite enjoy the view."

Having never known Hook to be guilty of understatement, Wendy was unprepared for the shock and grandeur of the space when they walked through the arched doors ahead. The first thing she noticed was how uncommonly bright it seemed, especially against the deep dark blue of the structure itself. The light was warm but fairly dazzling and had a musical vibrance to it that reminded her of the rainbow. It seemed almost alive, and when she stumbled over a declaration of this feeling, Hook only nodded and explained that this was where the starlight hid during the day and that, sometimes, the Northern Lights would visit and they would play tag until the night sky returned and they went off to work. As if that's the most natural thing in the world to say, she thought, but of course it was natural for Neverland.

Wendy also noticed the entire tower was made up of one large chamber, round like the outside and reaching up to the sky where she was jarred to discover there was no ceiling or roof, but an open air view of the sky. "What of inclement weather?" she'd asked, and the answer was, of course, as simple as the magic of the rainbow interfering on their behalf (most of the time). Along the curved walls were shelves and shelves going all the way up and accessible by a long spiral ramp that followed them and wound around the inside of the tower. The shelves held more books than she had ever seen as well as many other curious treasures Wendy was too overwhelmed to do more than notice.

At the center of the chamber was a circle demarcated from the rest of the floor by yet another of the starry inlaid designs in addition to a rather peculiar arrangement of even more peculiar chairs and other things each unique to their station on the circle.

The first chair she saw was wide and backed by a large anchor draped in pearls and the familiar flag of The Jolly Roger: the Calico Jack swords beneath a skull (Wendy was sure there was a story about that, but had never worked up the nerve to ask). Next to the chair sat an ornate antique desk stacked with maps, coiled ropes, and a bejeweled rapier. Wendy did not need her years at school to inform her that this was their station.

To the immediate left, there sat a beautiful wooden seat carved from a holly tree that somehow still lived around it, draped in wampum woven into belts and banners. It was attended by three Indians whom Wendy did not recognize, not that she had expected to, but seated on the ornately beaded cushion was someone she did recognize, at least she thought she did, and when the dark eyes of the grown up and radiant Princess Tiger Lily met her own, Wendy was surprised to see the gentle smile that joined them.

The next station held no recognition for Wendy, not in its attendants or its nature; it boasted a broad wingback chair the color of well-worn parchment and a pattern the color of ink drawn over it. The people were also adorned plainly which made them stand out against the vivid color of everything else in Neverland. Wendy noticed they seemed engaged in serious conversation, only, what she could hear was nothing more than questions. "The Queries?" she asked, looking up at Hook and then immediately away to avoid the rude laugh that threatened to escape her throat in response to his eye roll and nod.

Beyond The Queries sat the Port Star Crystal Chair station properly attended by people with cheerful faces. The rainbow cushion on their seat draped into a glittering cloth that fell to the floor and pooled around their feet. Their attendants fussed with shirt cuffs and the elbows of their sleeves to polish their desk as the woman who was clearly their elected representative had a friendly chat with Tiger Lily across the circle.

The Fairies gathered around a tall, twisting tree with broad purple leaves and twinkling lights that bloomed like little flowers. At the end of an outstretched branch sat a fluted metal tube Hook explained helped fae speech be heard above their usual twinkles and chimes. The fae delegation flitted here and there around and through the trunk of their tree carrying tiny parchments and scrolls up to an appropriately vine lectern near the end of their branch.

Having drawn her gaze around the circle almost back to their own station, Wendy squeezed Hook's arm reflexively as she saw what could only be a mermaid pool to their right. He covered her hands with his own and squeezed back. "Fear not, these are not the lagoon creatures," he said, clicking his tongue and wrinkling his nose. "Ghastly little beasts, that lot. These are of a more civilized stripe." He nodded his head toward them and she looked at the mermaid sitting on the silver edge of the pool cut into the floor. It was inlaid with pearls and shells and things Wendy had no name for which she guessed must come from the deeper darker parts of the sea.

The mermaid herself was pale and unadorned aside from a dainty string of pearls around her head and her shimmering golden hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. Wendy had never seen a dry mermaid before, although she supposed having seen any mermaid was already quite something. The mermaid turned her wide-eyed gaze upon them and Wendy shivered with the memory of the Lost Boy who drowned to them. She squeezed Hook's arm again and worried her fingertips against the fabric of his sleeve. "Forgive me, Captain, but I'm not certain I belong here."

Hook gently led her to the broad anchor chair and waited for her to take a seat before he followed and leaned his head closer to hers to whisper, "Tch, of course you do. What troubles you?"

Wendy very nearly asked him if he was well; it seemed plain to her that this was a situation far beyond her experience, but she instead took the liberty of leaning in closer and confiding her fears of the mermaid despite his assurances as well as her surprise at the grandeur of the chamber and lack of time to absorb so much new information.

"Do not dwell on your fears, my darling. They will not serve us here."

"What ought I to dwell on, then, sir?" She looked up and once again found a kinder than she had believed he could muster expression on his fair features.

"Listen to what you hear, and if nothing inspires you to speak, then do not. But listen. And if you have questions, please ask them."

She nodded. Asking questions had never been a problem for her. It had always been the opposite. "I don't want to ask too many questions, Captain."

Hook lifted his hand and stroked his fingertips back and forth over her cheek. His eyes had their mischief back but they had not lost their affection. "Ask them all, Wendy. And then ask more; your curiosity is a virtue. Let us at last nurture it."

Wendy opened her mouth to reply as his thumb just grazed where her hidden kiss had been before he'd collected it only hours ago, really, but before she could find her voice again, the banging of a gavel called everyone's attention to the Crystal Chair and its occupant. "Your observation, please, my colleagues," said a curiously tall, slender woman with white hair and kind eyes. "It is half past yellow and our agenda is long."