The waves plashed gently against the long dark hull of the stolen Spanish galleon, rocking it softly in the late afternoon. A soft breeze danced through the rigging and the lowering sun bathed the evening sky in a golden light. The Skull and Crossbones flapped insolently above. Several gulls screeched hoarsely in the air near the shore, and on the island the nocturnal creatures were creeping to the rivers to slake their thirst.
In the grandiose great cabin in the stern of the ship sat a man in an elegantly brocaded, stuffed wing chair beside a well-chosen library, a book on his lap and a glass of red wine in his left hand. The side table held a marble-ashtray with his unique cigar-holder with two cigars waiting for the flame. The westering light danced within his curly black mane and gave his blue eyes a thoughtful shimmer.
James Hook, Captain of the Jolly Roger, stretched his long legs and swallowed a yawn, tossing a stray curl over his shoulder with the hook attached by leather rigging where his right hand had been slashed away. The day had been unusually hot, but the breeze and lowering sun cooled everything nicely. Every day was in Neverland a late spring day – except when the little prince of the island, Peter Pan, was away for some time, or sick, or angry, or afraid, or sad, or had a bout of intense emotions. The brat. Then the skies turned stormy, and sometimes even snowed.
Hook sighed, and this time the yawn crept out.
Since their battle with the wizard S'Hadh, who nearly destroyed Neverland in his bid to rule the world, days had grown peaceful. Because of that ghastly adventure, something unbelievable had happened: He and his forever-nemesis, Peter Pan, the boy who cut off his hand and whose torments made his days a living hell, were forced to become allies, finally creating something like a truce. Yes, the boy still called him names. They had already started to exchange insults only days after the battle was won, and now that little churl was playing new tricks on him. But they were more teasing and had lost their cruel flavor. Indeed, Hook's threats definitely lacked a serious tone. They both had been through too much, and the danger had taught them tolerance, even bound them together as allies for several days.
Hook's crew hadn't minded the change. Not a bit. Rather the opposite. Their captain was less violent, and his moods less dark. (By Triton, only yesterday he had joked with Billy Jukes and Albino – something that hadn't happened since he'd lost that hand!) And the pirates knew that this change wasn't only because of a wary truce with that boy. No. A special girl with dove-blue eyes that shone like stars at midnight, strawberry-red lips, and a snub nose had warmed their commander's hard, unforgiving heart, which they now knew wasn't as black as everyone (including the Captain) used to think.
Wendy Moira Angela Darling – or Red-Handed Jill, as she once called herself – had blown a fresh wind into Neverland, after returning with natural and adopted brothers. She had changed everyone – even Hook and Peter Pan and the crew. The usually careless and cocky boy had found his first tender feelings, noticeable at times on his pretty face. And frequently, she had wrapped him, James Hook, scourge of the seven seas, around her gentle fingers, despite all she'd done to him on her first two visits.
That damned 'thimble' turned out to be a real kiss. He'd sworn revenge on her, too. And then, upon her return to Neverland, he had realized, somehow, that he couldn't hurt her. That little witch, as he thought of her at times, was too charming, too smart, too … appealing.
He, who'd rarely shown any hint of mercy, had found himself unable to harm her.
She had turned his beloved cabin into a battlefield (defending herself against five attacking harpies), defied him over and over again, and, yes, had even stuck out her tongue at him (cheeky little wench!) – and he had found himself unable to twist her lily-white neck. There were times he nearly put her across his knee, but one look at her blue eyes and pouting lips, and he could only manage to scold her.
And then, finally, she had melted his wall of hate, bitterness and lust for revenge that was wrapped around him like a cocoon. He saw her intelligence, bravery, and good sense. He liked her free spirit – like his – and her forthright way of thinking (and speaking). She hungered for knowledge and had steel in her spine. But, on the other hand, she was a small, valuable creature, soft as a kitten (with claws!), and inspired in everyone she met the urge to protect her.
Even him.
Twice he risked his own life to save her – a thought he would have laughed long and hard at before her arrival.
And now, when he did think about it, he couldn't understand just what she'd done in him. Yes, she was a female, and they needed the protection of a man, and she was uncommonly pretty, to be sure. But she was also a child, and he loathed children! Again, the girl managed to touch something in him he had thought he had lost a long time ago.
Hook shifted in his chair as his thoughts twisted around in the afternoon light.
Admittedly, she did look after him when he was injured and at the point of exhaustion in their war with the wizard. And saved his life. Twice. She'd cared for him. She'd smiled at him.
But the one thing that 'put the tartar sauce on the baked flounder', tearing down the largest portion of that wall, almost bringing tears to his eyes, the day this little slip of a girl treated his devastating wound with gentle acceptance and compassion, taking it in her hands, talking with him kindly about the old injury. No one, not even Smee, had ever reacted like that.
Moreso, he had been pleased that she had visited him several times since the war with S'Hadh had ended. Pleased! The Elves – who had come to their aid – had returned to their own realm. All traces of the island-wide marriage ceremony between the rose-fairy, Aurora, and the pixie, Kailen, had vanished by now. Sometimes Wendy came by and borrowed a book or brought one back. Sometimes she only talked with him, like when the boys had wearied her by their outrageous behavior. The buccaneer knew that, in her childish way, she loved Peter. It was true that the brat seemed to have decided, at last, that 'feelings' weren't so bad. But Hook also sensed her fascination and innocent affection for him – for the pirate-captain who had been the first subject in her stories.
He slowly turned the glass of wine to catch the sun's rays, and narrowed his eyes.
The way he accounted pros and cons, the debt she owed him compared favorably to the national debt of the English royal house, but he just couldn't collect. She was the first one in several lifetimes who treated him as a human being, and not as a monster.
Hook sipped of the wine and tried to relax, rolling it over his tongue.
He'd last seen her four days ago – longer than expected. Suddenly, he barked a short laugh in self-mockery. Here he was – the fearsome killer of men, the only man Barbeque feared (and even Blackbeard had been afraid of Barbeque!) – awaiting a visit by this slip of a girl! That was… unbelievable! Good thing the crew didn't know.
But there was a twitch in his gut. Something … was up and he hoped …
"Good evening, Captain."
His eyes darted to the open window, and he jumped to his feet, chiding himself inwardly. 'James! Get a grip, for glory's sake! She's nothing special! With one stroke you turn her into a history in one of those stories she loves so much' the pirate in him growled – but his other half gave him a mental slap and told the first voice to shut up.
He cleared his throat and straightened the exquisite smoking jacket of blood red velvet, setting down the wine glass on the side table. Under the jacket, he wore simple dark shirt over a pair of breeches. The small figure perched on the window frame, clad in the dress she had gotten from the Elf Glawar, the sister of their ally Giliath – an Elfish warrior and healer who had come with a troop of Elves from their own realm to help them against S'Hadh.
Wendy's hair was loose, tossed about her shoulders. The long draping sleeves of the dress flattered her in a way that was quite un-child-like. A s smile played around her lips. Then she cocked her head as her eyes twinkled. "May I come in?" she asked, and Hook felt duly corrected. (Well, fine manners he was showing. And he insisted he was a gentleman!)
"Of course, little one. Come in," he answered politely, and she hopped gracefully to the floor. She was, as usual, unshod and her little soiled feet made no sound as she walked toward him. He could see now clearly something wasn't right. Her expression was … sad?
"What's the matter, my girl?" he asked. Wendy took a deep breath. Could read her that easily? she wondered.
She took another deep breath as she looked him over. She never had feared him, yet she had learned to be wary of him. And often her heart cautioned her whenever she saw him – which contrasted with the inexplicable fascination she had felt from the beginning. During these last weeks, she had come to know him better: the unique sound of his dark voice, his expressions and gestures were familiar now. She felt her wariness ebbing.
Before they met, he had only been a dark figure that haunted her stories. But one look into his 'forget-me-not-blue eyes' (as she had called them) and she was captivated. Yes, he was a dangerous man, she understood that, but he was also someone full of self-contradictions. He was a fierce fighter, merciless, even brutal – and he could sigh with yearning because someone touched his mutilated arm without loathing. He was moody, and bad-tempered, but also witty (even though that humor was black) and even showed tolerance. He slew any opponent who dared lift a weapon against him, and then comforted a companion with his rough/gentle care. But what most impressed her was his unconditional commitment to his ship – and his crew. He was a pirate, but a captain, through and through.
James Hook was a man of feeling, she had told Peter – and still a puzzle to her; as indeed were her feelings toward him.
Taking yet another deep breath, she bit her lower lip, eyes lowered. She knew that he wouldn't take the news well, but she had to tell him. "I … I have come to say good-bye, Captain."
She looked up at him, his eyes widening – unbelieving, startled. "You… you what?" A slap in the face would not have been a greater shock.
Wendy smiled wistfully. "I must say good-bye," she repeated, and made a helpless gesture. "The … the summer is over at home and … and our parents must have long been back from their vacation to Scotland."
"And how do you know this?" he asked, frowning.
"Niam, the fairy-queen told me," Wendy replied. "She said that the children in London are all returned, and are laying out books and clothes which all look identical. School uniforms, no doubt. A fairy who lives around Kensington Gardens told her that."
Hook stared at her. School… Did all children go to school now? Did he hear her right? When he'd been a boy, only the children of noblemen or rich merchants were formally schooled.
She winced apologetically. "If we aren't back when school begins, my parents will be in trouble. Especially Father." She lowered her head. Only yesterday, the thought of going home again had pleased her. Truly, she loved the life here in Neverland, but she missed her parents. But the good-byes still hurt.
Hook took his own deep breath; something like distress flew through him. Damn! He was growing accustomed to having someone intelligent around him; someone who really seemed to care for him – at least somewhat – and treat him like a normal human being! But, of course, he had always known that the girl and all her brothers needed to return to London at some point. But not yet! Not yet … Yes, she loved her life on the island, but she was so bleeding responsible – something females seemed to be born with. But, if the boys were missed at school and the girl wasn't there when the tutor arrived, her parents would have a lot to explain. Wendy was right. He frowned.
"And that's why you want to go?" he asked roughly and met her pitying gaze.
"Not want to. I must," she replied unhappily, eyes dropping to the rich carpet. "I can't get my parents into trouble. We can't do that to them!"
Hook placed two fingers under chin and lifted her head. "Do you want to go?"
Lowering her gaze again, she felt her eyes sting. No! She loved her freedom in Neverland. No lessons in manners from her aunt, or tutoring in eloquence and behavior, no walking 'gracefully', no lowering of her gaze in the presence of males, no mastering small-talk (something her father still had not accomplished, With good reason, she thought,) no preparation to be a "good little wife" to a boring husband. No braiding her hair to the top of her head, no wearing shoes, no dull teas with other chattering women in corseted dresses that barely allowed for breathing, let alone running and flying. Here she could run through the forest, fly the skies, swim with dolphins (Peter had taught her how to swim), visit her new friends Aurora and Kailen, and the Hobgoblin Bumblyn! Most of all, she could be on a real pirate-ship with real pirates, with a friend who talked with her about books!
And then there was Peter. She never wanted to leave him. He needed her; as friend and mother, as playmate and storyteller, and as someone who could give him his thimble, their special name for the kiss that lingered in the right corner of Wendy's mouth. They had shared it several times now, and both enjoyed it. If she went home, he would be alone again. He'd bragged how he wouldn't mind if she 'visited' her parents, that he would find other Lost Boys, when his old friends had grown, but she knew him too well. He would hurt in ways he would not show.
All this went through her mind in the space of two breaths. "I will come back," she whispered finally.
"You didn't answer my question." Hook's voice was low and tense.
She looked up at him again. She took in those stark features, the moustache, his sensitive lips, the long dark curls and his entrancing forget-me-not-blue eyes. She always found it easy to speak to him openly, without holding back. So she sighed and shook her head. "No," she whispered. "I don't want to, but I have to." A woeful smile crossed her little face. "I'll come back," she said, and gently touched his arm. "Promise!"
For a moment he watched her, refusing his impulse to ask her to stay. "When?"
"I don't know. Perhaps in the autumn-mid-terms – if Peter will remember the date!"
"Pan and remember a date?" he mocked. "My Aunt Gert's garters, the boy can't even remember what he had for lunch!"
"Don't say that! So, he doesn't remember so well, but he has so much going through his head …"
"Troublemaking!" Hook mocked, and smirked as she frowned at him – only to blush a second later.
Both waited a moment before he slowly said, "You will return? Promise?"
Wendy nodded. "Yes, you have my word."
He lifted a brow, nodded slowly and moved toward his library. "Wait here." It was almost an order. He pushed one of the shelves at one point and a hidden door opened – the secret door Esteban, the Jolly Roger's Klabautermann with the dreadful Spanish accent, had shown Wendy, Michael and the Twins as they had been there during the war with the wizard. Wendy knew where the steep staircase behind it was going: to the captain's private treasury. She remembered how shocked he had been when he learned she knew about it.
He soon returned with something gold in his hand. When he opened the palm Wendy saw a beautiful bright bracelet in form of two dolphins which faced each other, their long bodies and tails intertwined on the underside where a little hinge allowed it to open wide enough slip on the wrist. Her eyes grew large. She loved dolphins!
"Give me your arm," he commanded shortly – and Wendy's gaped at him.
"But… but that is far too valuable for a little girl!" He lifted a brow – a silent reminder that he wouldn't tolerate resistance (something she mostly ignored) – and stretched her right arm toward him. He slipped the golden circlet around her wrist and pushed it higher until it fit. It nestled around her arm as if made for her.
"It isn't a present, but a pledge," he told her, and smiling at her frown. "Wear it until you come back to Neverland. Perhaps it will help you remember your promise."
Wendy straightened to her full diminutive height. "I never forget a promise, Captain. You know that!" She gazed again at the two dolphins. "Thank you. I'll wear it always. Indeed, I promise!" She stroked the exquisite etching over its surface. "It is beautiful!"
As you are, child! he thought, and pursed his lips. He really was growing soft! Maybe it wasn't so bad she was leaving for a while. Perhaps he could remember what it meant to be: the captain of a murderous, cutthroat gang of pirates!
But as she turned toward the window, he already felt her loss. He knew suddenly that he wouldn't see her again for quite a long time. He reached out and took her arm before he knew what he was doing. Wendy could see the first traces of pain in the depths of his eyes, and gave him another smile. Her voice was soft, her glance gentle. "Until next time, Captain. And please … take care of yourself, all right? And that crew?"
Hook narrowed his eyes. This little girl, with the face of an angel and the temperament of a wildcat was, the only one who seemed to see a human being in him with a soul (besides Smee.) He stroked his fingers over her cheek. "That goes for you, too!" he murmured, and quickly, before the rational side of him could win, he bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead – as he had done weeks ago after the disaster with S'Hadh. Wendy blushed and looked almost shyly away. "Don't let your aunt change you into a lady, Jill!"
She laughed, "Never!" and that was a vow; and it made him chuckle. Well, it would take more than a forceful aunt to tame the will of this girl.
"May there always be a fathom water beneath your keel, Captain," she said and curtsied.
Reminded of his manners, he bowed gracefully. "May the wind be always in your sails." He grinned. "Don't be too hard on your aunt."
Wendy giggled. "She won't know which way to turn next!" Quickly she climbed onto the window frame and looked back. She knew that she would miss this dangerous, fascinating man and – before she lost her resolve – she blew him a kiss, and took to the air.
Hook closed the distance to the window and looked after her. Between the Jolly Roger and Neverland he saw a small shape in the air, and the last rays of the setting sun shone on a shock of golden curls and green leaves. The boy. She flew straight toward him, and then the two children flew back toward the island. She turned to wave, and before he could stop himself, he waved back. And she was gone.
Hook lowered his head. Yes, something told him that the girl would be away for a long time.
The sun set beyond the sea, and the air cooled, and his cabin was now in shadow.
*** PP ***
Peter practiced his special loopy-loops, and mentally tapped his foot impatiently while waiting for Wendy to return from the ship. Yes, Hook had saved his life in the recent war, but that didn't account for Wendy's frequent visits to that ship. And he definitely didn't like that she glanced back several times after leaving the Jolly Roger, even now turning to wave at the old codfish, who (by the mermaids' tails!) waved back. He was grateful that Hook saved her from the tidal wave … and from the attacking harpies, and all that. Still, there was an unfamiliar twist in his chest when he saw the two together. He had no name for this … feeling … but it was undeniable. He didn't know 'jealousy'. He'd seen it when Tinker Bell was jealous of Wendy – but he didn't recognize the jolt of anger that, every time Wendy mentioned Hook, was the same emotion.
"You alright?" he asked when she reached him. She nodded, looking downcast. Peter felt new hope rising in his chest. "If you don't wish to go, stay!"
Wendy sighed. "Peter," she whispered, "we already talked about this. We have to return home now. But," she her smile lit up her face, "of course you must remember to visit me."
An unusually thoughtful smile touched his lips. "Forget? Me? Never!" He took her hand and he saw the golden bangle. "What's that? A present from Hook?" he demanded, frowning.
Wendy smiled and poked him playfully. "Yes, and don't be jealous. He gave me a bracelet, but you gave me your first kiss." She spoke of the little acorn he had given her during their very first meeting. It lay at home in her "jewelry" box, where she'd left it when, as Peter had arrived suddenly this last time. She had been too excited about returning to Neverland to remember it – especially after that terrible fight she'd had with her aunt on that particular evening.
Peter grinned. "Huh, trying to make up for you walking the plank!"
Wendy rolled her eyes, but declined to argue about that piece of ancient history.
The eternal boy took her silence for an affirmation, and smirking, he led her after him toward their hideout. There, the Lost Boys and the two Darling-brothers would join them. Wendy sighed, as her gaze wandered over the high cliffs, the deep woods, the palms at the southern coast of the island, the last sparkle of the sea and the high mountains, now gold as the sun was past the horizon. The dusk was deep under the trees.
She would miss everything – she was starting to miss it already…
TBC…