Hello, my dear readers!

Sorry for the late update, but you know the worst enemy of hobby-authors is time, *sigh*.

Thank you for the comments. And for those who leave reviews as guests: I'm sorry that I can't answer them directly, but assured that I'm happy to get them and that I'm glad that you put so much thoughts into the story.

And the story speeds on now. The Darlings will be informed of their daughter's return and are invited to the manor; Dark Owl tells about his next vision (concerning the 'old woman with the dark aura') and John and Hook will have a certain talk.

Have fun

Love

Yours Lywhn / Starflight

Chapter 36 – Important Talks

As the Darlings returned from the Easter service at church, Liza had breakfast waiting for them. It smelled of fresh brewed tea and simnels, a special Easter bread, as George and Mary arrived. Nana stayed close for any fallen crumbs, then Liza came out of the kitchen. They wished each other 'Happy Easter,' even if the Darlings did not feel 'happy'.

Liza joined the Darlings at breakfast as she often did (though not with guests and especially not with Millicent), and they ate very little, and in silence, which was unusual. They had just finished when the telephone rang. Looking at each other first, George leaped to his feet and dashed into the hallway, Mary at his heels and Nana following. He took a deep calming breath as he took the receiver in hand. "George Darling in Bloomsbury speaking," he announced.

"Good morning, Sir, and happy Easter," came the tinny voice of a young switchboard operator. As required for the job, she was on her best behavior. "His Lordship, Viscount Ashford from Surrey requests to speak with you. May I connect you?"

Mr. Darling looked at his tense wife and smiled, "Yes, please."

A moment later they heard the viscount. "Mr. Darling?"

George Darling bit off the multitude of questions he was bursting with, and replied, "Yes, Milord, I'm on the line. Easter greetings to you and your family."

"Thank you, the same to you. And I think I have some good news for you. Wendy is sleeping in one of our guestrooms."

George leaned on the wall near the telephone, dizzy with relief. "Wendy is with you?" he asked, and glanced at Mary, who pressed both hands over her mouth, tears of gratitude welling up in her large eyes.

"Yes. She is quite tired, actually exhausted. I've called our personal doctor and he will come over in an hour to examine her just in case she might be ill."

"But she is all right?" George pressed.

"Yes, physically she is fine, but confused. She didn't want to leave Neverland. I think she was under the spell of the fairies and therefore not in her right mind. There was also an unpleasant struggle between us, the fairies and the pirates. She's upset about it, but this was to be expected."

Promptly, Mr. Darling tensed even more. "Did someone get hurt? What's about my sons and Robert?"

A deep sigh hissed through the receiver. "The boys are healthy and well, but – I'm sorry, Mr. Darling – we were only able to bring Wendy with us before we had to flee the island. This struggle I spoke of … well, hundreds of fairies and other little creatures attacked us. And then the pirates came. We barely escaped. But don't fear, Mr. Darling. My men and I will return to Neverland as soon as Madame Lunette is able to re-open the portal. Our plan is to bring the boys to London."

"But the boys are well?" George pressed; his knuckles turning white as he held the receiver even tighter.

"Yes, they are. Like Wendy, they did not want to leave, but I'm sure I can convince them the next time to come with us." There was a short pause, then the viscount continued, "I suggest that you and your lovely wife come over to see her."

George glanced at Mary, who nodded. "Thank you for the invitation, Milord, Mary and I will be there as soon as possible."

"That will be the best. And, Mr. Darling, I don't want to impose myself, but I think it would be beneficial if Wendy remained here for the rest of her holiday. I don't think travel would be good for her at this point. Here she can sleep as long as she needs until she feels herself. There's plenty of fresh air here and a large garden where she can walk. Here she would be free of London's noise, smoke and stress."

George lifted both brows, his spectacles slipping down his nose (pushed back with two fingers - a typical gesture.) "That is … most generous of you, Milord." A tiny frown appeared between his brows. What had happened to his vigorous, adventurous daughter?

"It is no trouble. You know I am taken with your daughter, and I think she needs a little time and distance from the fairy realm, to put some distance between it and her childhood. And, by the way, this boy, Peter Pan, would be unable to find her again. From what I've learned, he only knows your address in London, but doesn't know where our manor is located. We could avoid additional, um, intrusion."

George was relieved. He had worried that the flying boy would come to London once again to snatch Wendy back to his island. "Thank you, Milord! We are deep in your debt. I will tell Mary to pack a few of Wendy's clothes to bring along. What time is convenient for you that we visit? I'm sure you need rest after being on … on that island."

He could hear the smile in Ashford's voice, as the viscount answered, "We shouldn't rush anything. You need time to pack, and my men and I must freshen up after our … um … endeavors. I would say three for three-thirty. You can spend some time with your daughter and we can have tea afterwards."

"Thank you, Milord, my wife and I will be there, three for three-thirty this afternoon."

"Excellent. See you then." There was a click, and then silence.

George took a deep breath and dropped the receiver on the hook again. Mary had been able to hear most of the conversation, and collapsed against her husband, who wrapped both arms around her, kissing the top of her head. "At least Wendy is back safe and sound," he murmured after a few seconds.

"But so exhausted?" Mary straightened, shaking her head. Something about the call didn't sound right. "She was certainly not tired when returning from Neverland before. In fact, she was quite energized. And I'm sure that they didn't just waltz in and bring her back. It doesn't sound right."

"The 'endeavors' the viscount mentioned," Mr. Darling sighed. "That could be the cause – or something else. We'll learn more about it when we speak with her." He took another deep breath. "I'm quite glad that the viscount invited her to stay in the manor until she can return to Roedean. I'm also quite sure that that boy would try to take her back if she were here." He polished his spotless glasses. "I'm concerned about our sons and Robert. I hope this 'struggle' he mentioned doesn't backfire on them." He shook his head. "It seems that fairies are mean little tricksters and they hold a grudge. I pray they won't make our boys pay for whatever mischief happened during their … difficulties."

"Of course they won't," Mary said firmly, looking up at her husband. "Wendy and the boys rescued Neverland last time they were there, together with Peter Pan and Captain Hook. The fairies will not harm people who helped them save their homes!"

George grimaced. "Your lips to God's ears," he murmured.

"I really don't like the way this sounds," Mary said, worried. "There's more to this than he is telling."

George cleared his throat, his voice growing businesslike as he said, "We'll find out soon enough. Please pack everything Wendy is going to need for the next week until she returns to Roedean. And Liza shall box the cake she baked for today that we didn't touch. I'll go to our wine cellar and include some bottles of the good wine I originally bought for our holidays. I want to show the viscount's men some of the gratitude I feel for the risk they took." He stopped on his way to the cellar, his blue eyes narrowed. "And when the boys are back, I never want to hear the names 'Peter Pan' or 'Captain Hook' ever again – not in this house, nor anywhere else!"

He couldn't know that he not only would hear those names very often and very soon, but that he would also meet the eternal boy and the pirate captain in person.

*** PP ***

Dalton Ashford relaxed in his cushioned desk chair after the phone call, and glanced at Lunette who'd listened in. "So far, so good," he said slowly. "I stayed close to the truth, but …" He sighed.

"But you're worried about what Miss Darling will tell her parents when she sees them," Brynna looked through him. "And your concern is justified. It would be better for you concerning the young lady that her parents remain ignorant of a few details, such as you sedating her or burning down a village. Or that you shot at the captain while she was with him." She rolled her eyes in displeasure.

Dalton snorted. "Easier said than done. I already gave her another version of what happened, but I can't change what she witnessed."

"Let her sleep," Brynna interrupted, "I gave her sleeping drops yesterday. I'll do it again this morning after she's eaten and washed. The Darlings won't have opportunity to talk with her, but they can reassure themselves that she is fine."

He frowned. "And what shall I tell them when their daughter remains asleep, even with them beside her?"

"Dalton, really," Lunette replied dismissively. "That doctor you mentioned on the phone gave her a tranquilizer to keep her calm, to give her a chance to come to terms with everything. If you tell the Darlings of the dangerous clash you and your men faced, they will understand why the doctor thought it necessary to give it to her. By the time she sees her parents again, you'll be able to convince her of your version of the story."

"So you say," Dalton mumbled, then asked, "Are you done with your … potion yet?"

"The boy's blood was added, now it has to mature," she replied slowly, her eyes betraying her excitement.

Keeping in mind that Peter was just a child, he asked, "Is he truly alright? How much did you take?"

"Half a liter, perhaps more," Brynna shrugged indifferently. "We left him plenty of water to drink to help him recover." She pursed her lips, remembering the presence she felt in the dungeons, but shrugged it off. In earlier centuries, the deep cellars had imprisoned Ashford's enemies, and most were never seen again. That she, as a 'wise woman', could sense the unusual in such a sinister place was not unheard-of. "When will you get rid of him?"

"Fulsom left to visit his parents in London – and an acquaintance who works in an orphanage with a dubious reputation. I hope -" The telephone rang, and lifting the receiver, he listened briefly before he said, "Yes, put her through, please." Then he forced a broad smile on his face. "Hallo mother, happy Easter!"

*** PP *** PP ***

While Ashford plotted, the preparations for leaving in Neverland were at full speed. In Hook's quarters on the ship, the temporary wall was constructed from several tabletops of diverse types of wood, looking somewhat shabby in the elegant quarters. But given the fact that a few of the tables were old enough to have served at King Arthur's court … for once, James didn't object. The smell had mostly been eliminated (Cookson had brought roasted coffee beans for that purpose,) and the broken windows were closed off. Everything else could be fixed when they arrived in London. The damage on the other deck was another problem. The companionway was easily restored, but replacing the deck was a task all its own.

While on the Mainland, Mary Darling packed a trunk for her daughter, Mr. Darling and Liza changed a simple basket into an elegant gift box with six bottles of the good wine purchased the week before, Hook was visited by Great Big Little Panther and Dark Owl. As the spiritual leader told him that the brave had some unsettling visions the night before, James was ready to hear them – after all, he had had unsettling visions, too. Sitting at the large table in the dining area – the last one in the castle – the captain listened expectantly.

Dark Owl began, "Little White Eagle was with the old woman, the same old woman who stole the pot with three legs along with the young fire-hair." He frowned. "This time she was in a dark room. This room looked much like parts of your large stone tepee, just above the sea."

"The cellars," Hook mused. "So, the old woman was in the lower levels – with Pan?"

Dark Owl took a deep breath. "Two other of the white men were with her and held Little White Eagle down while she-"

"- while she cut him with a knife and caught his blood in a bowl," Hook finished the sentence. The natives looked at each other in surprise.

"Iron Hand had such a vision, too?" Panther asked quietly. As the captain nodded slowly, he took a deep breath. "The portal between Neverland and the Outer World may be closed, but the connection is still strong. Did you also see Brave Feather?"

"Aye," James mumbled. "Not a dream but in another vision. She is … very upset, even in sleep. I think, Ashford told her about my supposed death and now she mourns."

"Grief is a very strong feeling. But Brave Feather is strong as well. She will rise again when Iron Hand gets her back."

Hook smiled briefly, then addressed Dark Owl. "My vision concerning Pan was very short. I called out to the old hag to stop was she was doing, and I think she might have sensed my presence, but she continued her work, then everything went dark again."

"This old woman uses evil energy," the young brave said quietly. "Dark Owl felt it as he watched her stealing the pot with the other young man. Fire-hair was the same who lured Little White Eagle into the trap. Dark Owl tried to warn Little White Eagle, but he was busy with fighting the fire. And later Little White Eagle was already away."

Hook grimaced. "Yes, that's our Pan – always jumping off the cliff without looking." He shook his head, before he continued, "Remembering your dream when the two stole the pot … you described the two getting that 'pot' from a building with a tower. And then around it were erected stones with letters," James said slowly. "I've been thinking. A church … and a graveyard. So, the cauldron was in a church, which is strange given the fact that such cauldrons are used in devilish religions and witchcraft."

A voice said, "I remember as well."

John entered the large room. "I remember an old legend I read about in Harrow." He approached the men and his blood brother. "A cauldron in a church. It's a legend from Surrey. Mother-"

"- Mother Ludlam's cauldron," Hook murmured with him, eyes widening. "I remember. A legend about a white witch whose cauldron was stolen and ended up in the church of Frensham. Her cave was near an old abbey not far away from our manor."

John looked at him curiously. "An old abbey, you say? When the portal was opened, I could see weathered old walls made of large stones, and not far away I saw a positively enormous tree trunk and branches of an evergreen bough."

Hook's jaw dropped. "Waverly Abbey!" he gasped. "The portal must lie within the ruins of Waverly Abbey! Imagine that, a portal to Neverland so near my old home." He shook his head in disbelief.

"You're sure?" John asked, and the captain snorted.

"Aye! I rode by there many times as a lad, and even slept a night or two among the ruins, hoping to get a glimpse of the ghosts which spook around there – at least if you believe the legends. A yew grows there by the cemetery wall. It was already thick and tall when I was a boy. My brothers and I liked to play there, making up adventures. And on the other side of the river Wey, up the low hill, is Mother Ludlam's cave." He thought a moment. "If I remember the legend correctly, then her cauldron was magical – she used it frequently to help people in need."

"Made and given by my people the cauldron was," a voice peeped, and Kailen appeared between Hook and John. He had obviously been listening.

Dark Owl watched the pixie. "Of a truth. In my vision, as the witch stole the pot, I saw little green brothers. They were quite upset."

"So, Ashford's witch needed the cauldron," John mused. "Perhaps for a potion to open the portal? She has to be Ashford's witch, for Dark Owl saw her together with Fulsom in his vision, and Fulsom works for the viscount."

"Aye, but I rather fear that the witch got the cauldron for another purpose as well – one that has to do with bleeding Pan last night." Catching John's alarmed look, James explained, "Last night Dark Owl and I saw Peter held down by two men and that hag draining his blood into a bowl. The magical cauldron and Pan's blood – it makes sense. On this island, anyway."

"I saw the old woman changing," Dark Owl murmured. Instantly all eyes were directed at him. Taking another deep breath, he told them, "In my vision, the old woman drank something and then she … changed. Her face grew smooth, her hair grew dark like mine … she got …" He searched for the right words.

"She grew younger?" Hook asked warily. When the brave nodded, he cursed quietly. "I think I know what this is about – why Ashford kidnapped our troublemaker. Pan is the eternal boy, and that witch wants to be young again, using Peter's blood for some dark magic tricks." He shook his head, while his narrowed eyes began to gleam a certain red. "Woe to her if she's killed him – then even her youth won't prevent her from a wretched death!" It was an oath, and John and Dark Owl shuddered. To have James Hook as your sworn enemy …

James breathed deeply, gripping the sides of the table, and asked the brave, "Would you know the witch turned young if you saw her?" As Dark Owl slowly nodded, he bent and fixed the young Indian with his eyes. "Your gift of second sight would be useful in our mission. It could be essential for everything – for saving Pan." He hesitated a moment before asking, "Is there any chance that you might consider coming with us?" He saw Panther tense and raised his left hand. "I know I ask much, but we're going to face not only a ruthless man and his henchmen, but also a witch – a witch whose face you already know as young and old. And you foreknow things what would warn us. If I only had to free Wendy, I would do it alone – perhaps together with a few of my men. But we also have to rescue Peter. And I have a feeling that the witch will be trouble."

"You mean she might curse us?" John asked, eyes wide.

"It wouldn't be the first time I've seen the ugly face of the dark arts. Our conflict with S'Hadh and his creatures is branded in my memory. If our young seer here has additional visions, his foresight can be quite important."

"If Dark Owl goes with Iron Hand, how will he come back to his tribe?" the brave asked warily.

Hook glanced at him, then at Panther and then back. "I would hope that you could return with Pan, if we find the boy in time and he can fly back to Neverland. If not, if he grows and matures too much before we're able to free him, then …" James sighed, "then we're going to need the witch to re-open the portal, if she is old or young. It's possible that Peter has matured too much during his stay there. We don't know if the time has been long or short. If too long, it would be up to you to bring the young dragon back to the island. I don't want his parents to destroy Neverland in a fit."

"And return with you we would as well," Kailen peeped. "Aurora, Tinker Bell, I – and Bumblyn."

Dark Owl looked at Panther, who only said quietly, "Your decision, Dark Owl – visit the Outer World and help to save Little White Eagle and the youngling, or stay here." He watched the brave with fatherly eyes, then added, "There is also a chance that you may have to stay, but -"

"I would do everything in my power to send Peter, the creature, you and our little friends here back to Neverland," Hook added. "But should it come to depending on that witch, I would rather face her with someone beside me who had a sense for things other people don't see and feel." Aurora, who had joined Kailen by now, jingled gently, and James sighed, "Aye, you fairies know a lot about magic, but – really – if you fairies had perfected your talent for prophecy, this whole situation might have been prevented."

Dark Owl glanced at John, who said quietly, "If you were stranded in our world, I'm sure my parents would take you in – and I would help you, my brother, to fit in. But I don't think it will come to that. Captain Hook is right. Somehow we have to get Tink, Aurora, Kailen, Bumblyn and the dragonling back to Neverland, and you can go with them."

"So, faith in my friends and the Great Spirit is the light we must follow," Dark Owl nodded, then straightened, facing the one-handed white man. "Iron Hand can count on Dark Owl. I will go with you."

"But first you must speak with your parents," Hook said slowly. "You may have passed your first test to become a warrior, but you're still under their protection and care."

"That Dark Owl will do, but they will not change his mind." He rose. "When Dark Owl was younger, Little White Eagle helped him many times, now Eagle is in need. It is a question of honor to aid him – and Brave Feather." He pressed his right fist to his chest. "I have spoken!" With those words he turned around and left to inform his parents.

*** PP *** PP ***

Bumblyn huddled beneath the dresser near Wendy's guestroom. He was weary, and for good reason: he and Nissa had had a frustrating and unproductive night. They knew the witch kept the keys for Peter's manacles with her, but were unable to intervene when she assaulted the boy for his blood. They followed the old woman to her 'special' room but had no access. Nissa had dug little tunnels nearly everywhere in the walls of the manor, but in the lower level, the walls were blocks of shaped rock. These were mostly double walls in the dungeons with bogey-sized passages between, but the cellars one level above, where Lunettte plied her 'magic,' had been remodeled a few decades before, eliminating the passages. The Brownie had been unable to create her passageways in the cellars, which prevented the two allies from slipping into the witch's 'kitchen' (you really couldn't call that room anything else).

Lunette had remained there nearly all night and as she retreated to her private bedroom on the upper level, she tucked the chain with the key around her neck into the high-necked nightgown before retiring. Seeing they had no chance of stealing the key that morning, the two Little People returned to check on Peter, who was deeply asleep, pale and shivering. Nissa built a mound of straw around him to warm him, while Bumblyn stroked the boy's tousled hair to calm him, even while sleeping. As the night gradually became early morning, the two bogeys retreated to Nissa's hideout where they slept for two or three hours, then they were busy again. They agreed that they couldn't free Peter if the keys to his cell and the restraints were with Lunette and/or Ashford, which required them to come up with another plan. Bumblyn was determined to talk to Wendy. Nissa, too, made a momentous decision: she would show herself to the big, old teacher. He had promised Peter he wanted to help, and the Brownie felt (with her old and very well-tuned senses) that he meant what he said.

Therefore, she and Bumblyn parted ways after Nissa had shown him where to hide so that he could slip into Wendy's room. On her way to the big man's guestroom, the Brownie passed the room where the 'sick' man lay – murmuring in his sleep and clearly suffering nightmares. Well, concerning the effect of the mermaid's wound, there wasn't much that could be done. Nissa had learned from Bumblyn what this man had done, so she was secretly satisfied that he soon would look like a mer-man.

The large clock in the entrance hall struck nine o'clock and Dalton had just spoken with George Darling when Nissa reached the old man's room. She found it empty. Sounds of dishes in the dining room on the ground level told her that breakfast was being served. She hissed in disappointment and slipped into one of the many hidden entrances to her labyrinth, assuming the man to be with the others in the dining room. Reaching the ground level near entrance hall, she heard voices. Angry ones. One belonged to Ashford, the other to the scholar. Slipping into the shadows of the staircase, she listened.

"This be unacceptable, Milord! How could y' allow this!? Cuttin' a child t' get 'is blood. I truly 'oped tha' Lunette would change 'er mind after our talk yest'day afternoon, but she went through with 'er witchery! Outrageous!" The Welshman was furious, this much Nissa could tell. Curiously, she peeked out from the shadows under the stairs as the two men came into the entrance hall from the dungeons.

"Calm down, Professor. Brynna didn't take much, he has plenty to drink, and breakfast will given to him, too. And as soon as Brynna has brewed another bit of the potion that is needed to open the portal, I'll send the boy home. Until then he can rest and-"

"I demand," the professor interrupted, "that he be housed in a normal room, not in the dungeons! I should 'ave insisted of it already yest'day, but foolishly I 'oped tha' you and Brynna would come to yer senses."

"Professor…"

"Ye'll bring the boy to a guestroom, allow 'im t' bathe, get 'im some warm clothes, plenty of food and drink. I won't tolerate yer mistreatment of a child any longer! If 'e isn't in a proper room within an hour, I'll call th' police. Mark m' words, Milord!" Nissa saw the old man pointing a threatening finger at Ashford, whose face had flushed. Then the man turned on his heel and left – dismissing the viscount like a servant. He walked to the west wing where the others were already having breakfast.

Nissa rubbed her upturned nose in dismay. She had felt the man's concern for the boy, but also the mounting irritation of the viscount. The younger man's blood was boiling-

"He has become a nuisance," Lunette's haughty voice drove Nissa further back into the shadows of the staircase. The Welshwoman came from the cellars, clad in a black and deep red dress, silver hair pinned up, eyes seeming to glow.

"Indeed," Dalton growled. "Putting the boy in one of the bedrooms will only give him the chance to make more trouble. And the Darlings are coming this afternoon. I wouldn't know how to explain a boy screaming his head off somewhere in the house."

"Don't worry," his former nanny replied. "I will talk with Archibald after breakfast and serve him some … tea. Afterward he will sleep for hours."

Something in her voice made Nissa wary, especially when she felt the foul glee pouring off the witch in dark waves. The hag was up to something nasty, and Nissa had no idea how to warn the professor before it was too late, or even to meet him at all without being seen by the others.

*** PP ***

In the meantime, Bumblyn remained beneath the dresser and waited. And waited. And waited. He was nearly asleep when finally Lunette came, unlocked the door and appeared minutes later with a drained and wary Wendy who was led away. The door remained open. The Hobgoblin darted into the room without hesitation. He glanced around with wide eyes, absolutely awestruck by the manor again. He only knew the Black Castle and the few rooms the captain had made livable. But the old ruin, even its habitable part, was nothing compared with what Bumblyn found here.

There were wooden panels head-high to the ceilings, ornately carved; the large windows with the heavy, velvet, artfully draped curtains; the thick carpets, the marble surfaces, or gleaming hardwood floor; the tasteful paintings; the stoves and open fireplace, the tall mirror; the sumptuous bed linens … He had never seen so much splendor before. Maybe in the captain's quarters, but that was all. The room where his sweet friend slept was so beautiful, but Bumblyn felt the grief that lingered between the folds of the curtains and on the sheets. And the cool fennel tea on the nightstand smelled … odd.

Looking about, waiting for Wendy's return, he heard new steps coming nearer and quickly hid beneath the bed. An unknown young girl entered the room, made the bed, fluffed the pillows and comforter, opened the window a few inches to allow fresh air into the room, took the tea pot and the cup from the nightstand and left, only to return again with a breakfast tray. Then she left, closing the door behind her, trapping Bumblyn in the room.

*** PP *** PP ***

"So, everything is packed and on its way to the Jolly Roger?" Hook queried Smee who reported that they were ready to leave the Black Castle.

"Aye, Cap'n," the old Irishman nodded. "Bollard an' the ot'ers are already on th' way t' th' ship, and Nibs an' Tootles are off t' Pan's hideout t' gather their things left there. Nibs meant they'd be back in th' late afternoon. Tinker Bell an' two warriors went wit' 'em to keep 'em safe. Alfonso, Albino and me're still here. Oh, John an' tha' young seer ye invited t' come wif us are in th' dining room."

Hook remarked. "I think, Master John is going to have a hard time saying good-bye to a certain young lady." Both buccaneers chuckled quietly, then Hook laid his hand on Smee's shoulder. "Go and say good-bye to the Indians, 'Grey-Beard'. I'll follow you in a few."

Smee saluted and left, while James glanced around. A few paintings were left on the wall, the pillow and the blanket lay neatly on the bed, but the comforter and the rest of his clothes were now on the ship. The fireplace was dark and clean, and the room was cold. But it wasn't the temperature that made a shiver run down the captain's back. He knew that he would never see this room again – the kitchen where Wendy had saved Bumblyn, the dungeons in which he fought Peter using, admittedly, bad form, the old tower on which Wendy saw on him for the first time …

He felt … nostalgic, leaving all this behind, losing yet another 'home'. He always said he wasn't happy here, but quite truthfully, here he had spent many weeks, years … decades even … in something close to peace, not being hunted, and minimal responsibility on his shoulders.

James took a deep breath and turned towards the door, away from the room and the rising sentiment threatening to make his eyes tear up, but those eyes caught sight of a teak statue half-hidden in a recess on the mantle. He took the figure in hand and sighed, remembering the hour during 'the Battle' when the redcaps ambushed them all here in this very room: him, Smee, the boys, Peter and Wendy. They'd fought the nasty little bloodthirsty bogey-goblins off with holy phrases and weapons. He smiled sadly as he recalled Wendy standing on his bed and swinging the figurine like a club, citing Bible verses and whacking the last remaining redcap on the head, who then considered it better to flee than bother the fiery human girl and her burning words any further. Wendy had been standing there, the large shirt Hook had loaned her had slipped from her shoulder, revealing a few of her first sweet curves; eyes still blazing, stance proud, hair wild. That moment, she had indeed been Red-Handed Jill, the pirate girl disguised in this English rose. Peter's eyes grew large, realizing for the first time the difference between a boy and a girl, and Tinker Bell darted in front of his eyes and tried to shield the view from him.

Hook had laughed heartily then, mightily amused, while Wendy (finally recognizing why everyone was staring) had squeaked loud enough to call dogs and buried herself beneath the blankets. James understood today that this had been the moment he started to fall in love with the sweet yet crabby storyteller. Looking down on the teak figure, he saw the dents and marred areas she'd put in the statue; he ran the blunt side of his metal claw over it and sighed deeply; his heart aching with yearning and worry.

"How far has this thing gone between you and my sister?"

Startled by the quiet but firm voice as well as the question, Hook turned to see John in the doorway. "Is it no longer good manners to knock before entering a private room?" he asked briskly.

"I did knock, but you were obviously so lost in thought that you didn't hear me," the oldest Darling-son replied calmly, then he entered. "That figure you're holding – that's the same one Wendy used to beat off one of the redcaps. You remember it, too, don't you?" He stopped before the captain and looked up at him. Hook was still half a head taller than he; what a difference since the last time John had been in Neverland. John looked sternly into those blue, blue eyes which had enchanted Wendy from the very first moment. "So, how close have you and my sister grown?"

Hook lifted a brow. "Do you think you have a right to ask me that question? Your sister -"

"— My sister is older than I, yes, but I'm the eldest son of the family and my father expects me to watch out for her. I'm grown up enough for that."

Both looked at each other – the pirate captain and the nearly grown boy. And for once it was Hook who gave in. "What do you know about men and women when it comes to … intimate relationships?" he asked carefully. He wasn't a prude – far from it – but he knew that there were a few moral laws which also applied to him, despite his 'career'.

John snorted softly. "I'm attending Harrow, Captain. It's an old, very respected public school in the north-west of London, as you might recall. There are dozens of boys who are older than I, and you cannot imagine … or perhaps you can … what you hear and learn on the fields of sport or when you're sharing the showers with the older boys."

Hook had no idea what the 'showers' were, but he did know about how boys talked and bragged in boarding schools. After all, he had been at Eton. His mouth crooked in a smirk at the memories. "Well, then you know what goes on behind closed doors when a man and a woman care deeply for one another," he said wryly.

Taking a deep breath, John nodded. "Yes, I know – at least the basics. The question is did it go that far between you and Wendy? She's been enamored with you since we were telling stories in the nursery, and something sent waves of magic all over Neverland the other night."

"It did?" James asked, surprised.

"Yes, just like when Wendy gave Peter her hidden kiss. But I suspect this time something much stronger was the reason for this 'powerful thing'."

Hook tilted his head and smiled almost mischievously. And then John saw it – in the right corner of the captain's mouth: the hidden kiss. It twinkled almost mockingly at him as if to say, 'Here I am, finally with my rightful owner, do you see?'

"She … she gave you her hidden kiss!" John blurted, eyes large.

"She gave me far more than that," Hook replied soberly. "You said you know the basics of what goes on behind closed doors. Well, your sister now knows more than you," he revealed with the definite purr of satisfaction in his deep voice.

John paled. "You … you two really … you …" he stammered.

James nodded slowly. "Aye! Often."

John leaned on the mantle, mouth growing dry as his worst suspicions were confirmed. "Blimey, our parents will explode – at least father!"

"There is no reason for Mr. Darling to disapprove," Hook replied, smiling. A part of him enjoyed seeing the shock of the young 'Mr. Serious'. "I don't intend to ever let our Wendy leave my side as soon as I've rescued her from Ashford. And I will tell your father just that when I see him."

John continued to stare at him, mind racing, then he shook his head. "Of course you want her at your side. You two seem to be made for each other." he sighed, then he grimaced. "But please don't go in like a bull in a china shop. Let Father know in a more … subtle manner that he has to give his daughter to a real pirate captain."

"Have no fear, it will be a peaceful man-to-man talk."

Another snort escaped John. "You don't know Father. His temper can erupt quite rapidly when provoked. And you and 'peaceful' are a contradiction in terms." He bowed his head, rubbing his brow. "Extraordinary! You're going to be my brother-in-law. Not exactly what I wished for," he muttered sarcastically. "But it's no wonder: you and Wendy have wrapped each other around your little fingers for five years now. I knew that you would be after her the moment she was old enough."

"Your sister is a remarkable and desirable young woman," Hook agreed.

"She's the most defiant, stubborn, wild and determined girl I ever met! I mean, who falls for the guy who tried to kill you once?"

James groaned. "That episode with the plank was-"

"- was cruel and evil, no argument there," John said, glaring. "She shouldn't even be in the same room with you! But even when we thought you dead after our first return, your evil deeds fresh in mind, she was already talking about you again as if you were some sort of misunderstood protagonist, wishing she had remained and become a pirate. And after our second visit," the boy shook his head in defeat, "she fell head-over-heels for you."

These were new revelations to James. "She did?" he asked.

"Yes. Of course, she never said so out loud, but all the pictures she drew – not only of Peter, Tink and Bumblyn, but of you – said everything." John sighed, determined to tell it all. "Then the bracelet you gave her. She never took it off. Not once. She had a lot of discussions with Aunt Millicent, but she was as stubborn as a dozen mules when it came to the bracelet. I'd already figured out then who gave it to her, but she only confirmed it the day before Peter brought us back to Neverland. Then her lack of interest in any other man whenever she attended a ball or social event. I don't want to feed your massive ego, but I'm certain she was comparing every man she met with you." By this time Hook was beaming unintentionally. Shaking his head, the boy murmured, "Like I said. She's gone over the edge."

James chuckled, eyes shining. So, Wendy had been so enamored with him that she had rebuffed all other suitors? Ah, that was 'grist for his mill.' He felt his aching heart swell with joy, despite his worry for her. "And the other boys?"

John rolled his eyes. "Nibs and Slightly think it's hilarious … this 'thing' between you two. They teased Wendy about it back in London when your name came up. They took her side the moment I confronted her after she flirted with you at the Indian village. And the younger ones …" He shrugged. "I don't think they realize the significance of you two being a couple, but as far as I can assess their attitudes, they're fine with it."

"Wonderful!" Hook smirked. "Then I only have to convince your father—"

"- and Aunt Millicent!" John added. "She'll be a tough nut to crack."

"You're calling your aunt a nut?" James asked, and it took a moment before John realized he was joking. Well, that was new as well, and John felt a smile creep across his face.

He replied wryly, "To expand the metaphor: Aunt Millicent is no walnut or hazelnut, but a coconut!"

A bark of laughter escaped the captain, then he commented, "She failed to change your sister into a real lady – thank God and all the angels. And she was unable to keep you all in London, so I might have a chance to get through her. If bad goes to worse, I'll try to charm her." He bounced his eyebrows jokingly at the boy.

John's eyes widened again, then he shook his head with a snicker. "I can imagine it." Then he sighed. "But honestly, there will be trouble with our father. He always imagined that his daughter would marry a nobleman -"

Hook straightened to his full height. "I am the last son of a legitimate marquess. Perhaps that will be enough," Hook relaxed again and shrugged, then he pursed his lips. "Can I count on you and the other boys to support me to your father?"

"You mean, will we support you and Wendy?" The eldest son scratched his head. "Truthfully, I'm not entirely pleased with your pairing, but … I admit, I did see it coming. It was impossible to convince Wendy to keep any emotional distance from you. She even told me that you and she had kissed. I could see then that I was fighting a lost battle. So, if you make her happy, so be it." He straightened his growing height, and his face became very serious. "But don't you dare to make her unhappy! I may only be a city boy with a proclivity for mathematics, while you're a real, experienced pirate, but if you hurt her in any way, you'll have me to face. And, believe me, I'm not just the glasses-wearing bookworm everyone thinks I am."

Any other man who dared to threaten him or think he had the right to order James Hook around, he would have answered with the sword or his metal claw. But in this case, he felt the odd mixture of amusement and respect. The boy was standing up for his sister – just like it was supposed to be in a loving family. He remembered the few times his older brothers, Kenneth and Lion, had looked out for him or stepped into the breach for him – or the many times he thought he had to protect his sisters, how he protected them from false suitors. What John Darling just displayed was the same common bond he had shared with his own siblings: honor, respect, protection. And then there was the incident with the wild boar …

"Fear not, Master John Darling. Your sister is far too dear to me to make her unhappy," he heard himself answering. "Her happiness is the most important thing in my life: her happiness, and bathing in the warmth of her love once more and to-" He clapped his mouth shut with an audible click before he uttered more poetry.

John stared, hearing the unusual choice of words from Hook (of all people!) and began to grin. Shaking his head, he snickered, "Oh my, Hooky, you got it bad."

"That's the pot calling the kettle black," James retorted wryly; ignoring that John just called him a nick-name Peter liked to use when teasing him. "What about you and Tiger-Lily? I'd be glad to be mistaken, but I don't think that you will be able to return to Neverland a fourth time – not even with Peter's help."

The boy's smile faded. "She … she wants to come with me. After she heard that Dark Owl is coming, she's asking her parents to allow her this journey, but … the chief is very wary, which I can understand. Tiger-Lily is his only daughter and … the world of the white man, especially London, will be so foreign for her. I don't think she would be happy there." He bowed his head. "She also asked me to stay here, but … I can't. Of course, our parents would be unable to explain my continued absence, but I can't let my brothers down – or Wendy. And … I have a life in London." He glanced around. "Neverland is so beautiful, and I certainly enjoyed life in a tepee for awhile, but … there is too great a difference between the Indian way of life and our culture. I'm not sure I would fit into this paradise for longer than a few weeks. As deep as my feelings are for Tiger-Lily, I can't ignore that we come from two very diverse civilizations." He crossed his arms and looked up at the ceiling. "I just don't know what to do."

"You long to be with her, but your different backgrounds and cultures are not easily ignored, which had been the case when both of you were still children. Now, with your different perspective as a young adult, you realize that not everything is as easy as you thought when you were younger," Hook mused. "Your sister already stated during our first meeting that 'everything was easier when she was younger'. I think the same applies for you and our Indian princess now."

John looked at him thoughtfully. "I never thought that you could be so … sensible," he murmured. "Wendy told us about her heart-to-heart talks with you during our first and second stay. I think she found you surprisingly rational."

James nodded. "The first time I tried to lure her to piracy, I must admit that her thoughts were far more mature than I expected from a small girl. And the second time – well, she did change my quarters into a battlefield and tried my patience as no one else ever had, but she also managed to distract me with her musings, questions and thoughts. Yes, we really talked." He chuckled. "Little vixen, she already knew then how to handle me."

"That says a lot," John sighed, surrendering. "I never thought that there could be anyone who would know how to deal with your temper, let alone handling you." Pirate and boy looked at each other, then John suddenly chuckled. "Every Jack has his Jill." Then he gave a twisted grin. "I suppose we could say that every Jas has his Jill. I wonder if she had it in mind even back then that she wanted to become your Jill someday."

"Oh, maybe part of her did already know what she wanted in the future. But 'red-handed' fits even better now, for she did something … um … forbidden." The last word came out as a purr.

John promptly flushed. "Forbidden, indeed," he mumbled, then turned to leave. "I'll say good-bye to the Hobgoblins and then to Tiger-Lily. Any advice how to deal with tears?"

Hook sighed. "You ask the wrong man, John. I'm not known for wisdom in romance."

"Liar," he smiled. "At least you know exactly what to do with my sister's tears."

"Your sister is the one exception," James replied. "But Tiger-Lily? Give her something personal from you. Something she can hold in her hands so that she can always remember you and what you shared together. I'm sure she would like this."

"Good idea," John murmured. "Thank you." With those words he left, and Hook was alone again, alone with the last canvas bag filled with his personal belongings and a teak statue he tucked into the corner of the already bulging bag.

Taking one last look around, he murmured, "So this is the end of another chapter of my life. Again I leave a place that has become something like home, even if I never wanted to see it that way." He snorted at his own melancholy. "Thank you for sheltering my men and me, you old stones. Maybe one day another master will use your rooms."

He left without looking back.

TBC…

Yes, you can really say that another chapter in our captain's life has come to an end. And – surprise! – he gets some melancholy moments. Right, even Barrie wrote in his original book that 'the man wasn't wholly evil, he loved flowers, I was told, and sweet music'… And, above all, Wendy has begun to change him even years ago. Otherwise the talk between him and John certainly would have taken different twists than it did now. And the 'old' Hook surely wouldn't have given John a few advises how to handle Tiger-Lily and the upcoming good-bye.

In the next chapter, this good-bye (and that of Hook, the chief and Great Big Little Panther) is happening. Wendy wakes up but is kept under the influence of calming and sleeping agents, while the maid Oliva begins to realize that something bad is going on in the manor. And – finally – the Darlings arrive in the manor and get served half truths and fish-tales concerning their daughter, the boys and Dalton's 'rescue mission'.

I hope, you liked the new chapter. To write 'the talk' between Hook and John had been fun, and hopefully you love it, too. Like always my request – please leave some reviews.

Have a nice rest of the week,

Love

Yours Lywhn / Starflight