Hi, my dear readers!

I think, the most of you are a little bit shocked of what happened in the last chapter and of the nasty cliffhanger. You all are certainly waiting impatiently for the next update, so here it comes.

Just like the last time, I don't give any hints what you can expect (*smirk*), but a big THANK YOU for the reviews.

Have fun

Love

Yours Lywhn / Starflight

Chapter 31 – The Power of Thimbles

Cold drizzle, wind and a grey sky greeted the invaders as they returned at the abbey's ruin through the portal. Ashford, who had gone last, whirled and quickly destroyed the line of potion on the ground before their pursuers could follow them. Yet a few Will-o-the-Wisps had come with them, fleeing as soon as they left the archway, their lights vanishing into the mist near the river. The last thing Dalton saw from Neverland were a few of the boys running toward them, accompanied by fairies and other Little People, then the light in the archway dimmed away and crumbled; the portal was closed.

All of them took a deep breath of relief: they made it! They had returned with Wendy, the eternal boy and the dragon egg! And they were still in one piece, more or less. Observing his companions, he saw that Russell, now holding the unconscious girl, was bleeding again. Alister and Jackson carried bruises (where Jackson fell on the the stinging nettles the day prior), and Wickham had a bruise spreading at his right temple. Fulsom appeared confused, and Anders still carried the motionless figure of the boy over his shoulder.

Hutchings approached the Dane, his eyes fixed on the lad. "Put 'im down, Mr. Anders. Now! This be a child, no' a sack o' potatoes!" he snapped, face red even in the cold.

Einar rolled his eyes. "Don't you fret. The little truant has—"

"-'as just witnessed 'undreds of little friends injured or killed, and a man like a father brrrutally marrrrdered!" Archibald snarled. "Th' shock was grrreat enough to make even 'im faint."

"Drama-queen," Anders scoffed and as he met the professor's accusing look, he added, "Both of you."

"And yer a 'eartless bastarrrd!" Hutching retorted with a hint of venom in his voice, deliberately utilizing foul language. "All those fairies, pixies an' other Li'l People! 'Tweren't enough jus' to keep 'em back, you an' th' others chose to stomp through them, killin' 'em! An' what sorrrt of a man threatens to slit a child's throat-"

"His so-called 'father-figure' tried to murder him in earlier times," the Danish hunter retorted, uncaring. "At least that's what the hellcat over there wrote in her diaries." He indicated Wendy, whose pale motionless figure was wrapped in a blanket Ashford retrieved from their stored luggage. Then Ashford took her away from Russell, who sighed in relief as his calf was finally more unburden.

"No matter their history, now they were now close," Archibald shot back. "Th' boy was – and will be – in grrreat anguish!" Hutchings knelt beside Peter, holding his almost bare upper body. Peter's skin was clammy from the cold wind and rain. He noted with anguish bruises from the cruel kicks, the cut at his throat, the swollen eyes. His memory replayed those desperate screams, almost like a Banshee, and he knew that the boy would deeply grieve as soon as he woke.

Hutchings watched how Anders, unconcerned regarding his despicable actions, casually strolled towards Ashford, and shot both men a furious glare. His innocent, battered views of life and fantasy had been destroyed. This wasn't a wondrous adventure anymore, this had become something sinister, ungainly, unthinkable! To get what he wanted, Ashford had brought sorrow and destruction over the exquisite island and its habitants. He and the others were responsible for loss, pain and grief among peaceful families in the tribe by stampeding those huge beasts, the wisents, through their village – something the professor had not even guessed was in the plan. They casually set a ship on fire while some of the crew were locked away under deck. Then hundreds of the Little People had been hurt or killed, and a boy had been kidnapped, nearly getting his throat slit. And then the viscount had shot another man – a pirate, true, but the man was only trying to rescue the youth and the young woman whom he obviously cared for greatly.

Hook was not the criminal here, but the viscount and the others!

Hutchings trembled inwardly with disbelief and rage. He had agreed to accompany Ashford on this 'field trip' to confirm the existence dragons, to see a real fairy realm with his own eyes. The first day had been like a dream for him – a dream that had turned into a nightmare, and this nightmare wasn't over; he knew now it had only begun. But at least he could try to save the young dragon, to lessen the boy's pain, to help him and the young woman. Something inside the old academic hardened as he faced true evil for the first time. But first things first. He had to take care of the boy before his condition worsened. Carefully he propped the child against him, opened his jacket, slipped out of it and wrapped the huge garment around the small form.

"Yer gonna catch cold, Perfessor," Wickham taunted.

"An' whose fault is tha'?" Archibald growled, while he rose, lifting Peter in his arms.

Morton grimaced, making the scar on his cheek dance – not a pleasant sight. "Are y' sure y' can carry 'im all the way back to th' truck?" He nodded in the direction Fulsom was trotting – away from the abbey's ruins, down to the Black Lake, and then along the field path by the water to the street, where the truck was hidden.

"I'll do m' best," Archibald said through bared teeth. "At least I can be sure tha' 'e isn't manhandled again!"

Wickham shrugged and began to collect the few bits of luggage they'd carried back with them. The pack with the egg had been placed carefully beside the graveyard. Alister and Jackson also carried a couple. In the meantime, Dalton wrapped Wendy firmly in a second blanket and lifted her in his arms.

Anders helped him, while he murmured, "Respect, Milord. I didn't think you had it in you."

"Had what in me?" Ashford asked.

"Killing a man. It's far different than shooting an animal, even if the man in question was a pirate and, if I heard you right, the son of a high traitor." Dalton tugged a part of the second blanket over Wendy's face to protect her against the rain that began to fall more steadily now. "Good luck you got rid of your rival in the fairy realm and not in our world. Otherwise you would be called to court for murder."

The viscount's grey eyes glared at him. "What are you trying to say?" he asked, hearing the implied threat.

"Not a thing, Milord, only that you're exceeding lucky that you were able to kill him in another world. Here it wouldn't matter if he was a criminal or not. You would have to face consequences for what you did, because justice is not allowed to be taken by one's own hand, only the court and its hangmen." He smirked. "But, on the other hand, you're off the hook, pun intended. What happened is too fantastic to be believed by outsiders. After all, you can't kill someone who was officially dead almost two hundred years." He laughed to himself.

Ashford didn't know what to make of Ander's words, so he kept silent. Einar saw the viscount's annoyed expression and chuckled sardonically, then looking over the young man's shoulder to the professor, added, "But our bookworm over there is, um … bristly."

Turning to look, Ashford saw Hutchings tramping after Fulsom, carrying the boy wrapped in the professor's jacket. "You think he will give us trouble?" Anders noticed the 'us' instead of 'me.'

"He seems to melt with pity for the brat," Einar replied. Then he frowned. "Yet we don't want him to be seen by other people. The same goes for you and the young lady here."

Ashford blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Milord, it's Easter Saturday afternoon, and I'm guessing that a few of the habitants of that pretty manor over there are preparing their garden for the Easter Feast for tomorrow – despite the weather. How would you explain an unconscious young woman and an insensate young boy wearing leaves and tied like a trussed pheasant?"

Dalton nodded and grimaced. Then he raised his voice, a plan already in mind. "Professor, wait! Let's wrap the boy in something warmer – a blanket!" He glanced at Alister. "Is there another?"

"One, Sir," Oscar grumbled, again going into the baggage.

Cautiously, Ashford watched Hutchings return to them, holding the boy in a protective manner. As the scholar reached them, Dalton forced an understanding smile on his face. "You take care of him, thank you, Professor." He met the suspicious eyes of the Welshman and said to Alister, "Help our scientist get the boy wrapped against the cold weather. He is not dressed for such England." Then he lowered his voice. "One thing more. In case that we meet someone, the young lady and the boy are siblings who got lost out here. We found them during our outdoor training, and are taking them to safety. Understood?" The others nodded, only Hutchings continued to stare at him, clearly displeased. Ashford ignored him. "Now, to home. A hot bath and a good dinner sound just about right."

The others chuckled while Alister wrapped Peter in a blanket. As Hutchings moved to take the boy again, the man from Bristol shook his head. "Save yer strength, Perfessor. You already had your workout today, and it's easier to carry the boy to the truck than you."

The others laughed quietly before Anders returned to the rest of the luggage and lifted the backpack in which the cooling dragon-egg rested – and a frightened Bumblyn. The little Hobgoblin had heard the shot and Peter screaming Hook's name. And as he listened to the conversation around him, he realized what happened. The captain was dead – shot by the viscount.

'Oh, great by the Goblin-King, it couldn't be true!' Wendy would be devastated, Peter already grieved enough to pass out, the Indian village was destroyed, Neverland would soon cover in ice and snow, the boys were still there and a dragon egg was abducted, surely enraging the adults. And whose fault was all of this? The man who had just shrugged off the fact that he had killed another man. 'The viscount may be of 'noble birth,' but his heart and soul are full of self-love, envy and darkness. He will pay for what he did to my friends and the dragons!'

At least the big man with the strange accent seemed to have some conscience left, and was now taking care that Peter wouldn't freeze to death in this weather that even crawled into the pack the Hobgoblin hid in. Nervously wrapped around the egg, kneading his tail and ignoring his churning belly, he gulped as his 'hide-out' was hoisted and carried away, and the voices of the two men were lost over the distance.

Archibald hadn't taken his gaze away from Ashford. The shock of seeing how the viscount easily shot the other man had opened his eyes. With a strange, quiet voice he stated, "Y' killed a man, Viscount."

Dalton lifted a brow. "It was purely self-defense," he replied.

"Indeed? Y' had a pistol, 'e a sword. 'E hadn't reached ya-"

"He was about to attack me, I was quicker. End of story." Dalton wanted to get past the professor, but was held back by a surprisingly firm grip on his shoulder.

"Be it tha' easy fir ye – to end someone else's life, then?" Archibald fixed the younger man again. "Ah, but I forgot: ye did it already afore."

"I didn't-" Ashford began to protest, but Hutchings interrupted him harshly,

"Sorry, I 'exaggerated.' The people in the village were primitive savages – unworthy of bein' called 'umans. A few less of 'em, who cares? The men in th' ship. An' th' man – well, 'e was a pirate. A criminal who should have been brought to court two centuries ago. So, no real damage, aye?" His voice dripped with bitterness and sarcasm, then he straightened. "But this Capt'n 'Ook wasna only a pirate, 'e was the last descendant of a family your ancestors accused of treachery those two centuries ago, and got their manor and their wealth in return. So, 'e was a danger for you. And truly y' couldn't bear the thought that y' might lose against a rival like 'im. You regarded him as a cripple, but 'e proved to be stronger than you – 'e outwitted you, and tha' was 'is death sentence."

Ashford ground his teeth together and growled, "So, in the end it was me who outwitted him. I won!"

"An' yet y' lost," Archibald stated quietly, almost sadly. "Killin' another 'uman is the greatest sin against all of man and the Lord who gave 'Imself for such a man as 'im and you. And it'll 'aunt ye. Not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day th' feelin' of guilt'll come. At least I 'ope so, fer yer sake, 'cause it would mean that yer soul isna completely lost. So, when it comes, if it comes, beg 'Im for that blood-bought forgiveness ye'll need t' sleep again," He turned and walked off, leaving Ashford standing there alone in the rain.

'To kill another human is the greatest sin against mankind and the Lord…'

The professor's harsh, truthful words echoed in his mind. Yes, he had killed Shalford – Hook. The man had been a murderer and traitor, so what? It had to be done, like he had been forced to go through with his plans to get the egg and Wendy. His family needed that cure, didn't they? And Peter Pan… Brynna deserved to live longer, didn't she? Didn't she?

Even if it meant the death of the entire island?

Finding this train of thought distressingly prickly, he pushed it aside. Right now, he had to think about an explanation for the Darlings as to why the boys were still in Neverland. But he would come up with something. He could always find a good excuse. Yet…

He looked back at the archway that had been the passage to another world, now almost out of sight. The portal was closed and he hoped that he would never have to open it again. He understood in his heart that he had earned the Little People's eternal fury by kidnapping the boy. And he never wanted to face the pirate crew who would surely seek vengeance for their fallen leader. Yet he somehow had to get the boys back, too. He shook his head. That was a problem he would busy himself with later. Now he had to get Wendy out of the rain and back to the manor. And he had to think of what to tell her should she ever learn of the captain's death…

*** PP *** PP ***

As the lights in the archway collapsed and the view of a rainy landscape vanished, Nibs, Slightly, Runner, Jump-Jump and John halted their pursuit. Too late! Ashford and the others were gone – together with Wendy and Peter!

Silence spread over the old ruin and the woods next to it, only the call of the seagulls and the splashing of the waves below the cliffs were heard, here and there a tentative ringing of a few agitated fairies or the murmurs of dazed pixies, sheeries and gnomes whispered behind them, the Good Neighbors tending to their injured friends and comrades. It was growing cold. The storm had settled the moment Peter lost consciousness, but the temperature continued to drop. And then the first snowflakes began to fall.

John held his breath while he stared with balled fists at the passage that had been the portal only a moment ago. Gone! His sister and Peter were gone – taken by force to the Mainland by a madman! The same madman who was responsible for the horror in Tiger-Lily's village and among the Good Neighbors. The madman who just had shot Hook.

Hook…

John turned, a tight, icy knot in his stomach.

Hook was dead!

John had never thought that Hook being killed would shake him, but it did, like a terrier with a rat. The man who had once been a fiend in his eyes had become a dangerous but loyal ally during their last stay in Neverland. Indeed, he had grown into someone John had learned to trust to a certain degree, though perhaps not with his sister. He had come to know the man better – the man behind the elegant attire and behavior. And even if the captain was still sardonic and rude, he also had had his tender side. Especially when it came – no, had come! – to Wendy. Then the dark and sinister man had become soft, almost loving. Even if John hadn't liked the idea of those two growing closer, he knew that it was inevitable that they would fall for each other as soon as Wendy was old enough to be courted.

And now Hook was dead – killed by the man who had abducted Wendy (and Peter).

Against his will, John felt a lump rising in his throat, seeing the pirates standing around their fallen captain, hats and bandanas in their hands, heads lowered. Even the boys who had been too shocked to run after Ashford and his henchmen, stood there with heads lowered, mourning the man who had once been an enemy to half of them.

Slightly stepped quietly beside his cousin, tears in his eyes. "This is not right," he whispered. "Hook should be here stomping and raging about how we could allow those morons to escape and start planning to rescue Wendy and Peter, not lying there – dead." He gulped and turned away. "God, why?" he asked and looked up at the dark skies, almost accusingly.

Tink sat on Nib's shoulder, big glistening tears running down her tiny face. She cried for Peter, now caught in the Outer World, alone and afraid, possibly having to grow up if he couldn't return to Neverland soon. She cried for Wendy, who had become a woman last night in the arms of the man who lay now dead before them all. And she cried for that man, once the biggest threat to them all, who had become a friend – or, at least, no longer an enemy. She saw how he'd paused outside the semi-circle of the injured Little People, then leaped over them when he attacked the outsiders.

Through a veil of tears, she saw John enter the circle of boys and pirates, and Slightly, Nibs, Runner and Jump-Jump followed him. And then, one by one, many of the fairies, pixies, sheeries, gnomes and Will-o-the-Wisps came closer. Many of them were still affected by the strange weapons, but it didn't stop them paying their last respects.

The eldest Darling-boy glanced down on the figure on the ground. Hook lay there like a discarded puppet thrown to the ground. No, the fallen knight who had turned into a dark protector. Odd that those thoughts came to him now, after their first encounters had been anything but friendly.

John's eyes went to Smee, who knelt beside his captain, head lowered, the shoulders now shaking with silent tears. Then, looking around, he realized that all of the pirates had wet eyes or were weeping in silence. Yes, they had feared their commander, but they had also loved him, like mischievous boys who loved their stern father, because, in the end, he was always there for them.

John's view blurred as his shock melted into grief. Hook's death would leave a hole none would be able to fill – not for Neverland, not for Peter (as odd as it sounded) and certainly never for Wendy. His sister had loved the captain, even if she hadn't realized it, yet John was almost sure that she had acknowledged the truth and the depth of her feelings last night, as the 'magical thing' passed through Neverland.

Taking off his spectacles, he rubbed his burning eyes. He wasn't ashamed of his tears – after all, even the harsh, cutthroat scallywags next to him were weeping, so there was no reason to hold back his own grief.

A low moan reached his ears and he glanced around for who might need help. There had been a lot of shooting; maybe someone else was injured?

Again someone moaned and gasped a deep breath, but it didn't come from the men, or boys, but… from the ground? And then his jaw dropped when he saw that Hook's eyes were open; then Smee stuttered, "C-C-C-Cap'n?"

*** PP ***

Hook felt cold, his back hurt as did the back of his head, and his chest felt like he'd been hit by a cannonball. Something cold touched his face … snow? Well, then he was outside. The next thing he became aware of, were sniffles and other noises of people crying. Was someone dead, or what? What was going on?

James Hook opened his eyes, not seeing much. He was certain that the green coat and weathered trousers beside him belonged to Smee. Then the instant his bosun stuttered his title in that strange tone, he proved that the person next to him was indeed the old Irishman.

At least not an enemy. That was an advantage, because – truly – he didn't feel well enough for a fight. What, by the mermaids fishtails, had happened? Why was he lying on the ground? For a moment he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and turned his head – and the sight, as he opened them again, was … unique? Amusing? The really dirty faces of more than a dozen of his men and the whole gang of former and new Lost Boys, including the two Darling-brothers, bent over him – staring at him in utter awe and with open mouths. What the hell…

"He … he's alive!" Cookson whispered.

"How's tha' possible?" Billy Jukes gasped.

"He made a pact wit' a devil." This was the Oriental.

"Do na be so foolish!" Herb's voice answered. "T'ere's no blood on 'is chest, so 'e wasn't 'it, t'at's all."

"But … t'at bloody sonofabitch shot 'im. I saw it!" Lee replied.

Hook frowned despite his headache. What were those idiots talking about? "Smee, what's going on here?" he asked. At least, that was what he attempted to say. What came out of his mouth was rather 'Ee, wa'go'n'ere?'

Bryan had never been happier to hear his superior's voice. He didn't know how this miracle was possible, why Hook was still alive, but it didn't matter. That damn sea-dog wasn't dead, nothing else mattered! For a few seconds he forgot that they were bloodthirsty pirates and hugging wasn't in their books. "Ye're alive!" he shouted in infinite relief, throwing both arms around the form of his captain, who groaned in protest.

"Brimstone and gall, Smee, get off me!"

This time his words were clear but did not produce the desired effect. Far from it. His bosun only began to laugh, and obviously tried to break his ribs with the bear hug he was giving him. And the others? One by one they came nearer, then there was a light in front of him and he recognized a grinning Tinker Bell, who wiped away a few tears and tinkled happily something he was unable to understand.

"Douse me in ice cream and call me dessert, Captain, you gave us all an awful turn!" This was Slightly, if he wasn't mistaken.

"Th' man has the lives of a cat!" This was Nibs, he was sure of it.

"By jingo, I thought this was the worsest thing that could ever happen." Michael Darling with his typical abuse of the king's English.

"I never thought I would say this, but I'm truly, truly happy that you weren't killed, Captain." This was John Darling. What happened that even these bunch of little scoundrels were so happy to see him?

Smee finally ceased his attempt to suffocate him and they sat up. To Hook's astonishment, there were tears on the man's round cheeks, dirty with grime and ashes, while he sniffled again and looked at him happily like a child on Christmas morning. "Ye're alive, Cap'n," he said again; eyes shining with joy.

"Well, yes, of course! Why does everyone think I-" James stopped as his memories came rushing back. The open portal, the light, Ashford's gun firing the blow against his chest, the sudden darkness…

Hook gasped. "He shot me," he whispered, forgetting he had been about to take the viscount's head off at that moment. "That unconscionable bastard shot me!" Sitting up, he pulled his shirt open, looking for his injury. There was no wound, no blood. There was only the sandy dragon scale on his golden necklace, directly over his sternum and his newly-awakened heart. The bullet had fused onto the scale, making them one, creating a heat that left a burn in the skin under the scale. There would be a bruise there later. Eyes wide in astonishment, Hook took the chain and examined the pendant while all the others crowded around to see it. Tink's eyes were large as saucers.

"Th' dragon scale," Smee murmured. "Th' one Miss Wendy gave ye at th' beach. It … it caught th' bullet and saved yer life."

"Nothing stronger than a dragon's scale, true that," a pixie's voice piped up.

"Just like Peter's kiss – the acorn that saved Wendy from my arrow," Tootles said, amazed.

James closed his eyes, briefly bowing his head to resist the sob of gratitude that was about to escape him. The boy was right. A kiss – a thimble – was something completely different here in Neverland than the Mainland, and it was also most powerful. "Her own kiss saved the boy from my rage, the boy's 'kiss' saved her from being shot down, and now her 'kiss' – the dragon-scale – protected me," he whispered in wonder. Then he gulped. "This island never ceases to surprise me." He groaned, rubbing the back of his head, still hurting from the fall backward and the reason for being unconscious for a few minutes.

Looking around, he saw the happy, relieved faces, most of them wet or damp with tears. So, they all had thought him dead and were grieving? There would be no more dying 'alone and unloved'. To be sure, even his men had wept for him. Unbelievable! They were pirates, by Neptune's tricorn, not little girls! But he had to admit (to himself) it felt good to know that they cared about him so much. And then he remembered more. Two faces were missing. Two faces that were the most important to him.

"Where is Wendy?" he demanded and began to rise on unsteady feet, Smee and Cookson giving him a hand up. Ears still ringing from the sound of the killing shot and feeling dizzy from the fall, something else was far more important now than the visage of the Grim Reaper. "Where is she?" He looked up at the darkened skies and became fully aware of the falling snow and the chill wind. Neverland only sank into winter when Peter Pan was absent or in grave danger…

Then he remembered that one of the strangers had held the youth hostage, threatening to cut his throat. He remembered the boy's screams as the viscount pulled the trigger. And there was almost nothing that could make the usually cocky child so hysterical. Something very grave must have taken place. "What happened to Pan?" he asked sharply, suddenly fearing the worst. "I heard him screaming." If the boy was dead, brutally murdered, why, then Hook would surely-

"Peter saw you being shot," Nibs answered softly, "and thought you dead. We all did."

"He … he called your name and …" Slightly took a deep breath, "and the thugs didn't listen and took him away. I think one of them even hit him. John, Nibs and I tried to reach him, but they all got away."

Hook stared. Pan had been in anguish because he thought that he, James Hook, was dead? Great Scott, another miracle. But then, on the other hand, it wasn't such a strange thing. They both had come a long way since 'the Battle'. And knowing that Peter grieved for him touched him deeply. Then he became aware of something else that Slightly said. "Before he was taken away, you say? Where is he? And where on God's green earth is Wendy?"

There was no answer. He looked about him, and suddenly pirates and boys were looking somewhere else. Then John said quietly, "Ashford and his men escaped after he shot you and we all thought you dead. They fled through the portal and … and took my sister and Peter with them," He met those forget-me-not blue eyes he thought he would never see again, and saw the igniting horror in them.

"No," Hook whispered, while he looked toward the old archway, now nothing more than the weathered entrance to the Black Castle's graveyard. "No, that can't be true!" James said, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, but … it is," Michael murmured. "Peter and Wendy are … on the Mainland now."

The captain could only stare, then he pushed through men and boys; the Little People quickly moving aside. Hook walked stiffly to the wall and its ancient archway. "No, she can't be gone!" he said hoarsely.

No! His Wendy was still here – hiding somewhere. She hadn't been ripped away from him and forced back to England, forever out of reach to him. It couldn't happen! Only a few hours ago she had lain beneath him, her arms clinging to him, face full of wonder … her lips had touched his and had breathed new life into him … they had loved one another and danced in the stars, soared in them … they swam in the Never Sea, laughing and kissing … they had found one another again only a few days ago, she no longer a child but grown, ready to become a woman. His woman. She was his mate, the other half of his very self …

She couldn't be gone now, separated from him for all time! But the wind, the snow, the blankness of the archway where a golden light had shone, the gloomy silence around him … There was no doubt that John and Michael spoke the truth.

Wendy … his Wendy … was gone.

She, who had brought bliss into his life, who had saved him in so many ways, was gone. He would never see her again. She had entered his world like a whirlwind three times, and now she was taken, surely unable to return, no longer child or virgin. He was alone once again. Alone and lonely – bereft of the happiness he had known only a few days.

Pain spread icy fingers in his chest, stronger and more searing than any bullet. It spread through his heart, through his body, and mind, took his breath away and made his knees buckle. A cry of despairing anguish was torn from his lips as he fell to his knees, screaming his sorrow to the darkening skies.

Full of sympathy, even compassion, his men watched him. Their proud captain was broken because his – their – sweet storyteller had been stolen from him. Smee, a few moments ago so happy, again felt new tears welling up in his eyes again when he saw how Hook bowed his head and his broad shoulders began to shake with soundless sobs; the wind mingled the snow with James' long curls. Bryan's too-soft heart went out to the man, who had been through so much and who had, finally, found true love only to lose it again. Why was fate so cruel?

John chewed his lip, watching the shaking man. If he had had any doubt of Hook's feelings for Wendy, he now was convinced the captain truly loved her. Whatever had happened between those two the previous night should have been only a beginning, but had become the end of something that seemed too good and wonderful to last.

He glanced sideway at Slightly, whose face was twisted with the compassion he felt for the man, then to Nibs, who bit his lips and seemed to be thinking furiously about a solution to turn the tables. Runner had a deep frown on his forehead, obviously plotting, just like Nibs. It struck him: this was the right thing to do! They couldn't just stand here and do nothing. Ashford had Wendy and Peter, and-

The sound of dragon wings filled the air, then the Hobgoblins on the battlements screamed in terror and fled into the castle ruin before the twilight around them grew even darker. Loose rocks fell down the wall as mighty talons "perched" on two of the remaining merlons, barely able to support the weight of the dragon.

"WHERE. IS. MY. SON?" Ayden's voice roared, and most of the pirates and boys backed up, gulping. Facing a furious dragon could dampen the most ardent enthusiasm. Then they saw the fury in his eyes and the fire in his open jaws, and the urge to flee was nearly overwhelming, if not for their loyalty to their own leaders. The thought of Peter abducted kept the boys where they are, and the sight of the kneeling, shaken Hook was like an invisible chain for the crew.

The red dragon dropped his head on the long neck and stared at the tiny humans beneath him, ignoring the Little People. They weren't to blame. "ANSWER ME! WHERE IS MY UNHATCHED SON?" he boomed.

A second pair of leathery wings passed over them, and another double set of razor-sharp talons settled into the weathered stones of the battlements. Beside Ayden the golden head of Anala, his mate, appeared; both dragons nearly brought the wall down, but not quite.

"Should we know where your unhatched son is?" Slightly finally dared to raise his voice, mouth dry.

"There were humans in our cave and our egg is missing! It came about after the landslide," Anala answered. "We could smell them. And it smells of them here as well!"

"Didn't the old man say-"

"- something about a missing dragon egg, too?" the Twins asked, and Nibs nodded slowly.

"So, such mortal knows of it because he is the thief!" Ayden growled. "Where is he? Show me! I will tear him apart before I burn him to ash!"

"Um… I don't think you'll be able to do that," Slightly said meekly.

"TELL ME WHERE THE THIEF IS, OR THIS FIRE IN THE SOUTH WILL BE A SPARK COMPARED TO WHAT I WILL DO TO THIS ISLAND!"

Tinker Bell gathered all of her courage and flew up. No one threatened her Neverland – not even an enraged dragon! Sternly she spoke to him. And tumbled through the air as Ayden simply puffed her away with one fireless breath. "Stay out of it, fairy, and quiet!" the red dragon snarled. "I care not what a collection of jingling flower-hoppers has to say. I WANT MY SON BACK. NOW! Show me the thief or you and this island will die a horrible-"

"DRAGON, ENOUGH!"

This outburst came from the kneeling, mourning pirate captain, now looking up. His blue eyes shone with sorrow and anger through his long, damp curls. "Shut THE HELL up!" he shouted and rose to his full height, shaking his fist at the outraged beast. "I have had enough of you bloody lizards! You think you only have to open your big toothy mouths and the whole world trembles in fear? First this oversized, ticked off gecko, and now this roaring fire salamander! Every one of you thinks you must terrorize other people, when in truth you're nothing more than walking boots and saddlebags!"

Pirates and boys gaped at him, while most of the Little People thought retreat as silently and inconspicuously as possible was the better part of valor. It was surely only a question of moments before the dragon's fury would erupt, and none of them wanted to be in the area.

Only the man with the hook and the broken heart seemed to be ignorant of the approaching explosion. Hook turned and stared up at the dragons without a hint of fear, continuing his tirade, "Headline: You're not the only one who's suffers a loss here. Those felons took your egg with them, yes, but they also abducted MY MATE and, on top of it all, they also kidnapped PETER PAN. Or why, oh mighty all-knowing dragon lord, do you think it's snowing? They took the boy with them back to the Mainland," – he pointed at the empty archway – "and in case your clever brain hasn't grasped the concept of how Neverland's magic works: when Pan is away, the island sinks into winter. And last time I checked my books, lizards cannot stand the cold. So, shouldn't you be a little more concerned about what might become of your other little scaled nuisances which have or will hatch soon, instead of threatening the only people who can turn the tables on those thieves?" His face was red with anger, his eyes had a red glow, while his whole body shook with rage.

"C-C-Cap'n," Smee squeaked. "I-I-I don' think it wise t' anger Lord Ayden e'en more."

"Do you have the tiniest idea how 'angry' I am?" Hook snapped. "This ignorant idiot Ashford left a track of destruction, casualties and death behind him, just like his ancestor to my family. He wanted to burn down my ship, kidnapped two children – one unborn, one born and essential to this world – and above all, he took my girl with him!" His voice was loud enough to echo from the cliffs: 'with him … with him.' "And now this winged chameleon has nothing better to do than threaten the island, where – by the way – his own clan is breeding. Very clever, wanting to destroy his own nesting area! So much for the vaunted wisdom of a dragon!"

Ayden stared at the raging mortal in utter disbelief. What had this weak human just called him? A fire-salamander, a winged chameleon, while also mocking their wisdom? A man so like the same folk who abducted his unhatched son? That was the last straw that broke the dragon's back.

"HOW DARE YOU!?" he roared, leaned his head back and took a deep breath, while fire began to glow in his open maw.

The boys and pirates could only look at their approaching doom, paralyzed by fright. But it never came, because a golden wing slapped the dragon's mouth, accompanied by a strong, "Stop it, Ayden. The man is right."

Anala's intervention was impactful. Ayden choked on his own fire and began to cough; puffs of dark smoke and a few sparks shot out of his nostrils and over his mate's wing in front of his mouth. Flapping his wings to maintain his balance, he fought for breath, loosening more stones.

"What did you just say?" he forced out between more coughs.

"I said, the man is right, you giant red ego!" Anala replied calmly. Her dark bronze voice was firm, but also soft as she bent her long neck down towards Hook, fixing him with her eyes.

"Did you not hear what he called us – me?" Ayden croaked, accusingly indicating Hook, trying to clear his throat with a series of coughs and dragonish harrumphs.

"He accuses us through his pain," the dragoness said almost gently, while she looked into the man's eyes. "It's the anguish of losing his mate – his soulmate," she added as she sensed the reason for the mortal's sorrow. "We felt their link forging last night – and now the girl has been taken from him. His soul is bleeding. And not only for his mate, but also for the boy." She glanced back at her own mate. "You can't blame him for lashing out at us because it's the same pain we suffer. Your actions do not differ much from his."

Ayden stared with an open mouth at his lady, who continued to eye the mortals. She saw that the little golden fairy had returned to one of the boys. Despite her own sorrow regarding the missing egg with her precious son, something like a smile appeared for a moment in her eyes. So tiny and so brave! You could only respect so much loyalty. Then she glanced at the two human children who looked alike and asked, "You heard one of the men speaking about my missing egg?"

The two boys nodded; too afraid to say anything. It was Slightly, who stepped forward, Tink on his shoulder. "Those strangers came to get the girl Wendy and some of the boys. And they were here for something else, but we didn't know what it was."

"The leader of the mermaids foresaw that 'the dragons' fury would be risen', but she also had no idea why," Nibs added. He and the other boys were still wary but grew bolder now as the danger of being roasted seemed to have passed. Well, females and children – it was a magic all its own.

"So, they came to steal one of our eggs," Anala concluded in a whisper, still louder than a normal human voice. "But why?"

"I don't care about the 'why'," Ayden hissed. "I want our son back!"

"As do I, but we won't get him back by threatening these humans!" the dragoness replied firmly. "If those strange mortals have taken our egg into the Outer World, we need these humans' help to rescue him."

The golden eyes of the dragon-lord widened. "I don't need help from these puny-"

"Yes, you do!" Anala interrupted sternly. "We all do, because we can't just fly to the Outer World and begin to search. We don't even know where to start."

"But we have some idea where to start!" John volunteered, feeling braver now. "The leader is a nobleman we met earlier, before we came back to Neverland. We know where he lives. And I'm sure he took the three to his home."

"And wha'?" Smee asked. "Ye wanna knock at 'is tall oaken door and demand ter let the t'ree go? Ye canna think t'at would be successful."

"No, of course not," Slightly rose to speak. "We're only a handful of boys, and we cannot attack him or the manor. We need support by grownups, and because no-one is going to believe us if we tell the truth, I think it would be the best is we team up with you and your comrades to free Wendy, Peter and the egg."

Nibs nodded. "We already defeated a magical warlock together. If we could defeat that magician and his army of nightmares, we certainly can beat a few thugs and a coward if we work together!"

John addressed Hook who had turned his attention to his men and the boys. "You know the manor the best, Captain. Are there secret tunnels or entrances? You and a few of us could, I don't know, invade the manor and the rest come in from the outside. If we come up with a good plan there wouldn't even be any bloodshed."

"Hopefully," Curly grumbled, who had spilled some in encounters with other boys in fights, mostly from the nose. "We'd be in good ol' England then, not in Neverland. Spilled blood always calls the police to the scene,"

Cookson frowned. "What's a pleece?"

"A kind of town-guard that is responsible for law and order among citizens," Tootles explained. "And they're called police – not pleece."

Hook held up his hand to halt the discussion. "There's just one kink in the silken thread of this finely spun plan of yours," he said far too calmly, only to explode a second later, "I CANNOT LEAVE THE DAMN ISLAND!"

'Who told you that?'

The soft feminine voice seemed to be everywhere, then a creature of light flew from the forest edge to the center of men, boys and the two dragons. With awe, most instantly recognized the newcomer: Niam, the fairy queen. And she wasn't alone. Out of the woods came the unicorn; violet eyes fixed on the dragons.

Niam glared at Hook with a strong gaze. 'I ask again, who has declared that you cannot leave Neverland?'

TBC…

Yeah, OF COURSE Hook has survived – after all, he has to go to London and to get culture-shocks one-by-one (*laugh*). And the dragon-scale Wendy gave him, had to have a larger meaning. Everything can become a 'thimble' in Neverland, even such a souvenir / gift. Important it he meaning of such a thimble, because that holds the power…

I also couldn't refuse to write how Hook finally has enough from 'lizards' and looses it by yelling at the dragon. Finally he has overcome his old fear, but – like it is typically for him – he has to overdo it (*snicker*). It was pure luck that Anala is so understanding and even shut up her mate, or the idiom that someone is 'grilled' would have gotten a new meaning.

In the next chapter you will meet finally the little creature that 'spooks' around in the manor and refers to Hook as 'Master Jamie'. Furthermore you learn how the pirates are able to leave Neverland and to travel to London, and Ashford and the others reach the manor, together with Wendy and Peter…

I hope, you liked the idea of the 'thimble' Hook got and how he was saved. I also loved to write that all the pirates (and even the boys) first were mourning for him, then almost made a dance of joy as they realized that he still lives. It shows that he is no longer 'alone and unloved'.

I really would be happy to get a few reviews, so please click the button below and tell me what you think of this all.

Have a nice weekend,

Love

Yours Lywhn / Starflight