Meanwhile

Smee stretched, allowing his arms and legs the luxury of movement that came from feet planted firmly on the earth as opposed to a moving ship's deck. As much as he loved being at sea and, frankly, preferred it to land, there was something about a land stretch that allowed the back to really let loose and clear out any built up kinks. He sighed with satisfaction and traveled the well-kept planks of the Port Star boardwalk toward the Rope Makers Guild Hall.

Nothing would ever replace being at sea, not for Smee and certainly not for any of the current crew of The Jolly Roger, but they did all enjoy visits to Port Star. For one thing, there was the opportunity to speak with people other than themselves, a luxury never taken for granted by people who lived on the ship. Smee, in particular, was fond of the opportunity to spread his conversational wings and occasionally make a new friend or chat up an old acquaintance.

The Ropemakers Guild Hall wasn't far from the docks, but Smee took a slightly longer path to arrive there with the innocent intention of stretching his legs and also the opportunity to wave hello at a multitude of strangers. He tipped his red cap and bowed and smiled at every person who made eye contact. Most people in Port Star were kind and happy to receive guests. The few who were not would simply ignore attempts to engage.

Which Smee also found nice. He enjoyed the frankness of it, the subtle ways one could behave with someone who would never work aboard The Jolly Roger. One had to be more polite than one might want to be when one knew that it was close quarters for months on end.

Or forever. When he finally arrived at the Ropemakers Guild, things went the same as usual for a while until Colin Smock, head Ropemaker, pulled Smee aside and gave him the whispers. Aside from ropes, everyone knew the best part of that guild was the whispers and secrets, and no one was better at collecting them than Colin Smock.

"We've missed you around here, mate" Colin said with a surly grin. "Thought you hearties forgot about us. Oi, and now you have a girl with you, eh?" He winked and nodded his head toward the door to a room behind him.

"A lady," Smee corrected, following him through the arched doorway into a cozy room with walls draped in tapestry and a soft rug laden with plush sitting cushions and pillows.

"Aye, of course," he said, ushering Smee toward a seat at a low table between two cushions. "What can we do for you, Master Smee?" He poured two cups of wine and nudged it toward Smee.

"The usual ropes, please, Colin. And any news."

"Oh, the news," Colin laughed, leaning against the table and taking a swig of wine. "Dark tidings, my friend. Word is, there are problems over by your usual way, drownings and things. People think maybe merfolk, but the ones here deny it."

"Drownin's?"

Colin nodded and leaned forward. "Word from some of the fae and a few of the escaped Lost Boys of the imp boy is that bodies appear from nowhere, bruised about the throat. You and me both know that's not how the merfolk do it, never needed that kind of force."

"Aye," Smee said, swirling the wine in his cup before taking a sip. "Have many lads come to you of late?"

"Indeed, mate, more than ever before. It used to be one, maybe two in a year. It's been five already this year and we've only just passed into midsummer." Colin shook his head and topped off both cups. "Actually, I've got one here I want you to meet. Finest ropemaker and tender I've ever seen, reminds me of you. I think he'd be a good fit for your crew, if the Captain will have him, of course."

Smee nodded. "Aye, we could use the help. Lost a few in a battle not long ago."

"That's what I heard. My condolences."

Smee nodded again.

"The boy told me. He was there. Paid some Indians to bring him along in their wagons. He was thin as a rail when they found him; he's still a bit skittish, but he's a good lad and he works hard."

"We can use him, surely," Smee said. He didn't need to ask permission from Starkey or Hook for this; it was no secret among them that they were short of crew since the battle, and a good rope tender was hard to find. It would not hurt that he was likely at least somewhat familiar with whatever schemes or troubles Pan had cooked up during his recent absence.

Colin dropped his hand against the table and sighed before pushing himself up. "Come on; I'll start getting your ropes and you can meet the boy."

Smee followed as they wandered through wide halls before ending their journey in a courtyard flanked by large columns and laid out with worktables. A brilliantly white triangle canopy provided some shade but allowed in the rainbow filtered sunshine. Smee squinted at the light but felt pleasantly adjusted to its brilliance in only moments.

At each worktable there were clusters of rope maker apprentices practicing the art of maintaining tension, keeping strands separate, and twisting them together. Smee saw many highly skilled apprentices but found himself confused at their ages; none of them looked familiar or seemed quite the right age to have been one of Pan's Lost Boys.

Before he could ask the question, Colin tugged his sleeve toward the last table on the left where there sat a skinny boy of indeterminate years. He was thin, too thin for his height, but his eyes were clear and focused upon the task of inspecting a freshly made coil of rope so beautiful Smee hoped it was going home with him.

"Oi, Remy," Colin said, snapping his fingers and smiling when the boy's attention shifted toward him. "I want you to meet someone."

"Yes, sir," Remy said in a soft but attentive voice.

"This is Smee, he's here with The Jolly Roger under Captain James Hook," Colin smiled, gesturing fondly toward Smee. "And this here is our recent pride and joy, Remy. Never seen a fella take to ropes like this one, not in all my years." The pride was obvious on Colin's face.

"How do you do, Mister Smee?"

"Ah, quite keen, thank you," Smee smiled. "Where're ye from, lad?"

Remy's eyes darkened only briefly, but noticeably. He glanced toward Colin who patted him on the back and nodded. "Ehm, I was a Lost Boy—"

"Forgive me, lad, but I knew that. I meant, ah, where're you from, yanno, originally," Smee said with a smile that could teach kindness.

"Oh," Remy blushed. "Of course, sir. Peter found me at an orphanage in England. I was left there, I know not when."

"And you were, ah, on the ship at the recent battle, Remy?"

"Yes, sir. I— I'm sorry."

"Nay, lad," Smee said. "'Tis no business of mine to be concerned about that, aye, and you're here now. I am sorry for the trouble that must have brought you here."

"You are kind, Mister Smee."

"How old're you, lad?"

"I was fifteen when Peter brought me here."

"Oh," Smee gasped. That was years older than the eldest lost boy they'd ever encountered. It was certainly outside the pattern one might expect after an endless cycle of youths brought to bear by an immortal demon boy. He managed a smile. "Do you enjoy the water, Remy?"

"Sir?"

"Ye have talent with rope unlike any other, or so I'm yarned at by this one," Smee laughed, pointing at Colin. "Bless him, but he does go on. So tell me, lad, do you like the sea? Do ye think you'd like to make a go of it on The Jolly Roger?"

"Become a pirate, sir?"

"Just Smee is fine," Smee said. "And aye, join the crew. It's good money and you'll learn a lot. Good meals and a clean bed, although you might get a hammock at first, if I'm being honest. It's not a bad life, lad; it's been quite right for me."

"I think I'd like that, sir, uh, Mist—I mean—Smee."

"Finish your day here an' organize your things. I'll come back to collect you tomorrow. Aye?"

"Aye, sir."

Colin winked at Remy before leading Smee further through the structure to select ropes and other things and then back out. "He's a good lad, Smee."

"I take you at your word, as always."

"Indeed," Colin nodded. "Keep him well. The recent whispers are concerning but I trust you and Hook to protect him. And all of us."

"Aye, Colin." Smee gripped the broad shoulder of his friend and then pulled him closer for a hug. "Aye, mate."

Smee had more to do than buy ropes and catch up, but the onboarding of a new crew member tomorrow took precedence over meeting with the seed holders and other visits, so after stopping at a small pub for a quick lunch, he headed back to The Jolly Roger. Once there, he notified and made proper arrangements with Gentleman Starkey to bring on Remy.

Not too long after his return to the ship, he spotted the captain and Wendy returning in a tender ship. There was no mistaking the vexation knitted into both brows, but Smee also noticed less tension in his captain's shoulders than he normally expected to see there after a meeting at the Midnight Tower.

On a normal post-meeting return, Smee expected the captain to be ill-tempered and rough, occasionally cruel. (He had never been a natural at public service.) In this case, Smee noticed, Hook appeared more engaged and interested in whatever it was the Lady Wendy had to say, and even as he helped her onto the ship after their journey from the shore, he seemed rapt with attention. He had even laughed once or twice.

Smee had helped them aboard and listened to the things they were permitted to say by order of the Midnight Tower. He'd relayed the similar information from Colin about the drownings and, of course, the new crewmate. It was a point of pride for him that there was no question from his captain about the decision to bring Remy aboard.

All in all, it had been a productive day, if not a complete one, and Smee looked forward to the next one. He always looked forward to the next day.