Title:All Because of a Thimble
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: One - A way forward, a way back
Wendy's kiss changes Peter's life in ways he never imagined.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wendy watched as Peter and TinkerBell disappeared from sight, her eyes remaining fixed on the point where his light had vanished. A soft call from her mother returned her attention to the room behind her and the cries of the Lost boys as they played with John and Michael, rolling on the floor with her father like puppies. Nana stood a little ways off, her tongue hanging out, for all the world grinning like a Cheshire cat. Wendy looked on from the window embrasure, her lips curved in a sweet but sad smile. Aunt Millicent was still hugging Slightly, his skinny arms apparently locked around her corsetted waist in a death grip, both of them serenely oblivious of the chaos around them. Again Wendy was called away from her musing by her mother.
"Wendy dear, we need to find beds for the boys, but first..oh gracious, you all need a bath!"
Wendy looked down at her hands, the nails black with grime and jagged, down further her toes curled blackly against the clean carpet, the extent of her grubbiness a surprise to her.
"Oh...I didn't realise, its just been so.....exciting, we never thought about....."she gestured helplessly at herself, "getting cleaned up,"
"Well its time to think about it now, young lady, I'll get the bath started if you can get your father to sort out some of John and Michaels night clothes for the boys to wear after they get clean,"
"Of course mother," Wendy responded, her eyes drifting once more to the open window behind her, straining for another glimpse of the boy that had changed her life. Sighing she turned away and started across the room towards the door, her mind already turned to more practical matters.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peter flew through the planets and stars as if in a dream, his eyes distant, his thoughts turned inwards. Tink buzzed around him, her light dancing over his limbs as they passed through the horizon and entered the skies above Neverland. Slowing down, Peter came back to awareness and stared down through the clouds at his home, as if seeing it for the first time. The sun felt warm on his shoulders, the clouds as soft as ever as they brushed by him, the water far below as crystal and sparkling as always. Abruptly he halted in mid air, suspended between the sea and the clouds, Tink rushed past several feet before halting to see what had caught his attention, returning to perch on his outstretched arm as he floated. He was staring down at the Mermaids Lagoon where the Jolly Roger now rocked, the fairies having returned it, as per Peter's orders, to await the return of the surviving Pirates. Across his minds eye he replayed the events of the last few days, his body gently starting to descend to the island below, his eyes not seeing the flock of birds circling him or the Mermaids reaching up from the sea to him. Tink, growing bored with his silence, flew up and tugged at his hair, grabbing a hank and pulling with all her fairy might.
"Ow..Tink...cut it out,"
TinkerBell merely dodged out of the reach of his flailing hand and grabbed another handful of hair, yanking hard.
"Damn it Tink....I said stop it,"
By now Peter had floated down and landed gently on the wide, sandy beach that bordered the lagoon where the Jolly Roger was berthed. Tink placed herself in front of Peter's nose and rattled off a tirade of fairy speech, her tinkling voice like so many tiny bells.
"There's nothing wrong with me Tink, so leave off the scolding,"
Batting his hand at her, Peter scowled and started to march off down the beach, his footprints the only marks on the pristine sand. Tink flew slowly behind him, her wings only beating enough to keep her above the yellow shore, her simple mind not understanding why Peter seemed so unlike his usual cocksure self. She was so caught up in her musing that she didn't realise that Peter had stopped walking and she bumped into the back of his legs with a thump, falling to the sand in a cloud of fairy dust. Peter cast her only a cursory glance before taking a small leap into the air and flying slowly upwards, turning to enter the forest that bordered the beach, making for his home in the hidden wood. Tink rubbed her head, shouting several invectives after him before shaking out her wings and flying into the air, taking off into the sky in the opposite direction to Peter.
Peter flew above the trees, his heart heavy in his chest. He kept reminding himself that Peter Pan didn't have feelings, didn't grow up, didn't need a Wendy. But his heart called a different song. As he flew he absently rubbed at his breast, trying to ease the ache that seemed to grow in intensity as he skimmed over the tops of the trees, circling the tall volcano that dominated the mountain range down the centre of Neverland. He tried to remember how it had felt before Wendy and her brothers had come to his world, how he'd been carefree and careless, his self-confidence unchallenged, his triumphant crow heard from one end of the island to the other. The memories of that time became mixed with the memories of the pain as Hook threw words like weapons at Peter, wounding him with hurt and confusion. Peter had never felt the physical injuries inflicted in his fights before, brushing them off as so many flesh-wounds that healed without effort. But after Hook had destroyed his confidence, the wounds on his head had matched the searing pain in his heart making him vulnerable to Hooks blows. He had glimpsed Wendy's horrified face as he slammed into the mast before it was blotted out by Hooks triumphant leer. At that moment he had welcomed death for it would have stopped the pain that washed over him like a tidal wave, but that was not to be his fate. Instead his Wendy had intervened, getting thrown to the deck beside him so that her hair brushed over his face like a silk curtain. Her dear face coming so close to his as he lay on the deck, her hair falling like lace to shelter them both from the cruelty of the pirates, her eyes bright with love for him, her lips so soft as they pressed to his, giving him the gift of her heart. At that second he knew that he was loved, and that he did have feelings. He felt love.
Another jab of pain reminded him that he needed to see to his cuts and he banked to bring him around, back to the jungle and towards his tree hideout. As he flew closer the aches and bruises seemed to take on a pulse of their own, his head pounding in time with his heart so that he had difficulty even focusing on the forest below, let alone keeping to his course. Shaking his head to clear it, he put on a burst of speed and finally saw the tree, a giant standing in a small clearing, beckoning to him with the promise of rest and protection.
On reaching the ancient tree that housed his home, Peter touched down again, his legs almost buckling. As he pulled on the rope that opened the door he looked around the small clearing, his ears straining for the sound of the Lost Boys, imagining them crashing through the undergrowth, rolling and wrestling their way into the doorway in a bid to be the first at the table to eat. Hearing nothing but the breeze in the leaves and the birds in the air, Peter shook his head and turned to enter, sliding down the short slope to end up in the hollowed out roots of the tree. It seemed so quiet and empty. On the floor was Tootles bow and arrows, scattered in his haste to leave Neverland. Peter reached down and picked one up, his fingers running down the untidy feathers stuck to one end, his lips curving into a lopsided grin as he remembered the expression on Tootles face as he waited for the blow that would end his life for killing the "Wendy-bird".
He dropped the arrow as a spasm clutched at his body, gasping he staggered over to his bed, the skins looking soft and inviting to his weary body. Never had he felt the need to sleep so much before, his eyes already closing even as he took a final look around his home. Flopping onto the raised ledge, Peter rolled onto his back and crooked an arm behind his head.
"What is happening to me Wendy ?" He whispered, his eyes closing as he shifted to ease his aching limbs. "Why does it hurts so much ?" Peter turned onto his side, groaning as pain shot like lightening down his arms. "Is this what happens when you get feelings ?" Rolling onto his stomach, Peter let one arm dangle over the side of the bed, the fingers inches from the floor. "Why did you have to grow up ?" He finally muttered on a sigh, his body giving into the urge to sleep, his limbs becoming boneless, his breath puffing out in a final sigh before settling into the steady rhythm of sleep.
Outside, the sky darkened and clouds swept over the island, the sun sinking down to await the return of the boy that ruled his world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wendy opened her eyes and lay for several minutes staring at the floral pattern wallpaper inches from her nose. She reached up a finger and traced the pattern of petals that entwined with a leafy vine, her eyes blinking lazily in the pale morning light.
A knock interrupted her musing and she rolled over, throwing back the covers before swinging her legs over the side of the bed.
"Come in Alice, I'm awake,"
A tidily dressed housemaid entered carrying a tray with a small steaming teapot, its matching jug and assorted crockery. Alice nodded to Wendy, tripping over to the small table situated at the end of the bed and putting down her burden before turning and throwing back the curtains to let the bright sunshine flood the small, but elegantly appointed bedroom.
"Mornin' Miss Wendy, your Aunt is already up and taking breakfast. She asks that you wear the blue this morning."
"Thank you Alice, the blue it is."
Sighing to herself at her Aunt's dictatorial ways, Wendy walked over to the window and pulled aside the muslin drapes, her waistlength brown hair surrounding her like a cloak, catching glints of gold in the bright light. Behind her Alice clucked to herself as she collected the clothes scattered over the floor, sending her young mistress several glances as Wendy continued to gaze unseeingly out of the window.
"If you please Miss, your Aunt was quite insistent that there be no delay this morning. Plus your tea is getting cold."
"I know Alice, I just wanted to see what sort of day it was going to be."
Turning away from the window, Wendy tossed her long locks away from her shoulder exposing her long neck and slender frame, currently encased in sensible lawn from neck to ankle, which failed completely to hide the maturing curves of a woman on the brink of adulthood. At seventeen, Wendy was showing promise of being an acclaimed beauty like her mother. Her luminous, thickly lashed blue eyes and full lips had stirred many a young mans hopes during her adolescence but a certain aloofness had kept all such ambitions firmly at arms length. Sitting down on the end of her bed she lifted the lid covering a plate and picked up a piece of buttered toast, nibbling at it while Alice poured her a cup of tea in the delicate china crockery. Alice continued to fuss around, pulling out a filmy dressing gown and pouring warm water into a basin for Wendy to use later. Used to the morning routine, Wendy ate her breakfast and stared into the distance, her thoughts, as was often the case these days, turned inwards. In her minds eye she soared unfettered over the chimneys and roofs of the houses on London, her hair streaming out behind her like a flag. A bubble of laughter welled up inside her and she firmly choked down the desire to leap up and dance around the room. Five long years had failed to dull her love of adventure. Once tasted, it was, for her, never forgotten, a drug that constantly fired her blood. It had taken every effort of her redoubtable Aunt to mould and shape her niece into the respectable young woman that she now was. Mrs.Fulsom's school for young ladies, dance and deportment classes had all attempted to quell Wendy's passion for adventure, and they had all failed completely. On the outside she was everything her Aunt could hope for in a carefully nurtured gentleman's daughter. On the inside, Wendy clutched at the tatters of her memory and retold her stories to herself, keeping the kernel of hope alive against the persistence of polite society.
Alice held out the blue morning dress, its shape and design meant to show off Wendy's delectable figure to its best advantage, much to her chagrin. After submitting to the torture of a corset, then the dress, Wendy sat down at her dresser and waited patiently as Alice dressed her hair, looping the long tresses into the current style, teasing out soft curls to caress her cheek. Half an hour later she was ready and heading down the wide staircase towards the morning room, Chilten the butler leaning forward to open the door for her as she swept gracefully towards him.
"Good morning Miss,"
"Good morning Chilten,"
The door snicked quietly closed behind her as she paused, taking in the elegant room, its understated furniture and expensive knick-knacks. Her aunt was disposed upon the beautifully proportioned settee, the latest Ladies Journal open upon her lap, her pinz-nez glasses perched ever-present on her long nose.
"Ah my dear....the blue looks perfect on you,"
Dipping into a small curtsy, Wendy smiled serenely at her benefactress and approached the sofa opposite her Aunt and sat down.
"How are you this morning Aunt, I hope your....ailment didn't keep you awake last night ?"
"Oh no, Doctor Meecham's wonderful powders worked the oracle and I slept like a babe. One can never be too careful about taking ones medicines, and Meecham came highly recommended by my dear friend, Mrs.Bath. You remember her, don't you my dear ?"
"I believe I do Aunt. Wasn't her son the one who fell in the lake last month ?"
"Very disappointing, that boy. I had such high hopes..." her Aunt's voice faded away but it didn't fool Wendy for a moment. Since attaining her seventeenth year, Millicent Harding had been angling to get Wendy married, as advantageously as possible of course, and as soon as it was possible. She frequently extolled her niece that the shortcomings of her families connections shouldn't stop her from making a very creditable marriage, as long as Wendy kept her mind on the task of acquiring husband and didn't wander off into the realms of fantasy. But all too often Wendy's thoughts did just that, her mind stubbornly imposing the impish, mischievous, sun tousled head of Peter Pan over the faces of all the eager suitors that wore the paint off her Aunt's front door step. It wasn't so much Wendy's abundant charms that drew them, as much as her Aunt's settlement upon her that drew the bees to the honey pot in such droves. But as soon as the prospective suitor appeared, Wendy's traitorous heart pulled up the image of Peter's sea-green eyes and heart-tugging smile and all her best intentions went winging out of the window and another future prospect left her Aunt's portal disappointed. So far it had happened without fail with every eligible person that her Aunt had flung in her path. It said something for her Aunt Millicent's patience that the woman didn't give up her campaign of persistence, or maybe it spoke more of her Aunt's shrewdness in seeing that Wendy could only become more desirable the older she got. Certainly her likeness to her beautiful mother became more apparent each day and the caller's after each social engagement certainly didn't seem to have been put off by her niece's consistent refusals. It was just a matter of time, after all.
What did surprise Wendy, and she could find no real reason to explain it, was that as she got older the face that haunted her also aged. The boy that she had fought pirates with and danced with in the moonlight, seemed to be getting older as well, his eyes and smile remaining the same, but the face becoming older and more mature, the boy turning into a young man, the features changing from a child to an adult. It puzzled Wendy often, but she put it down to her overactive imagination and her mind filling in the gaps of her failing memory. A discreet cough drew her wandering attention once more to her Aunt and Wendy pinned a serene smile to her lips before turning her limpid eyes in her Aunts direction.
"I'm sorry Aunt, I was wool-gathering, you were saying ?"
"Tsk...you can't fool me miss, I've known you too long these past years. You were thinking about that boy again....no point denying it, its as plain as the nose....well maybe not plain.....herumph...it won't do Wendy. He's not coming back and even if he did, you're all grown up now, there is no room in your life for....errant boys."
"But Aunt, you found room for Slightly,"
"Yes, well....that's quite another matter. This is affecting your future Wendy. You must find a husband...it is your duty."
"But why ? As you so frequently tell me, I can't expect to marry very high, and with Father now in a managerial position and comfortably off because of the Neverland treasure, what need is there for me to marry ?"
Wendy watched as her Aunt turned a strange puce colour, her lips compressed in a thin line as she struggled to keep from saying something unpardonable to her unrepentant niece. After a short pause to gather her poise, Millicent continued.
"Good heavens child.......what else is a lady of good character and fortune to do, but marry. And you, my girl, have the added advantage of beauty to attract a suitable prospect, yet you throw it all away on the faint hope that a strange boy, who you only knew for a short time, will fly down and do what, I might ask ??"
Wendy fidgeted under her Aunts gimlet eye, her own flicking to the window as if for inspiration.
"I don't know," Wendy finally whispered reaching for her embroidery frame in an attempt to still her trembling fingers.
"You don't know," repeated her Aunt, throwing the journal onto the cushions beside her and getting to her feet in a rustle of skirts. "Well you should think hard about the answer to my question. Maybe then you'll clear the clouds from your eyes and see things as they really are. This Peter boy is part of your childhood, not your future Wendy Darling."
Having no answer for her Aunt, Wendy lapsed into silence, her thick lashes hiding the hurt and confusion in her blue eyes, her fingers going through the motions of setting neat stitches in her embroidery frame but her eyes not seeing the pattern for a film of tears blurring her vision. The morning passed agonisingly slowly, the requisite calls passing in front of her and the necessary small talk leaving her lips until Wendy felt that she was more machine than person. When the last visitor had risen and left, she excused herself to her Aunt and left the morning room, her skirts whispering across the floor as she approached, then climbed the staircase. On reaching her room she carefully shut the door behind her and leaned back against it for a second before approaching her bed and throwing herself onto its satin coverlet, the tears finally finding their release, her shoulders heaving as the sobs tore through her slender frame.
"He will come back........I have to believe it."
Once the storm was passed, Wendy sat up slowly and wiped her face with the heel of her hand, her lashes still spiked with tears. On the table beside her bed rested her small jewellery box. Opening the lid she reached in and entwined a loop of gold chain over a finger before lifting it out. On the chain hung a pendant that turned slowly for her inspection. It was the kiss that Peter had given her and had later saved her life from Tootle's arrow. Her father had had it coated in gold as a momento for her and she wore it whenever her dress allowed, careful to keep it from her Aunt's sight in case it further inflamed that women's antipathy to all things connected to Peter Pan. Holding up her hand she watched as the damaged acorn twirled lazily before her eyes, the sunlight striking sparks off the gold-encased leaves. Gathering up the chain in her fingers she brought the pendant to her lips and placed a kiss on the rounded smoothness, her mouth curving into a smile at her foolishness.
"Am I silly to believe that you'll return ?" She asked the acorn, closing her fingers over the hard shell, feeling it press into her palm. Squeezing her eyes shut she tried to picture Peter as she'd last seen him, but her mind stubbornly refused to recall the twelve-or-something year old boy that had first enchanted her heart. Instead her imagination conjured up an image of a face that would have made Adonis envious, a body made up of broad shoulders, well muscled arms that looked used to carrying a sword or wrestling with an Indian, of legs that were long and would carry their owner as far or as high as he wanted to go. The hair was the same, sun kissed and tousled, the skin like liquid copper, satiny and smooth and her recollection of his eyes always remained the same, the colour like emeralds shot through with fairy dust, their colour as changeable as the ocean, that reflected the stars and a million secret joys, their expression at once mischievous and vulnerable. Finally Wendy dwelled on Peter's mouth, remembering the dimples that appeared with his grin and the feel of them when she kissed him.
"Oh yes...I am very silly to believe, but it is a wonderful foolishness."
Lying back on her bed she gazed up at the ceiling, the golden acorn clasped loosely in her hand.
"I don't want to give you up Peter," she whispered, tears sliding from the corners of her eyes. "Please come back.....just once, before I am forced to."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Time passed and Neverland lay in a state of limbo. The remaining Pirates had returned to the Jolly Roger but had found living on the ship difficult and boring. Without the Captain to instil fear into the crew they grew lazy, no-one wanting to do the hard work of maintaining the ships rigging so that on a trip around the main island, several of the sails became tangled in their own ropes and accidents eliminated another couple of crew members. Smee became the unofficial leader of the remaining crew and he decided that living aboard the stinking ship was not in their best interests. They anchored the ship in the most sheltered and shallow lagoon and then scuttled her, the ship settling into the sand, never to sail again. With timber from below decks they created a collection of ramshackle buildings on the sandy foreshore and settled into the life of land-lubbers. The Indians soon discovered their new neighbours and founded a healthy trade in goods between the two settlements. Meanwhile Peter slumbered on. TinkerBell visited him often, buzzing around his body in a vain attempt to awaken him, but no amount of tugging on hair or pinching of flesh raised a flicker of awareness in Peter. He appeared to be only asleep but it was more than that, changes were occurring in his body that were causing changes in the world of Neverland around him.
As his body changed so the land of his home also changed. As his dreams, and sometimes nightmares, caused him to move restlessly, so the long dormant volcano that dominated the centre of Neverland started to send out long plumes of smoke and caused the earth at its base to tremble. The Indians watched the signs with fear, their experience with such things limited at best. The Pirates also worried about the strange things happening to their island and consulted the Indians who, in turn, consulted the fairies. TinkerBell was called to account for Peter's whereabouts but she refused to tell, only recounting how Peter had arrived at Neverland and fallen into a deep sleep. The Fairy Queen questioned her closely about Peter and concluded, from the little that TinkerBell could tell her, that Peter was, in fact, growing up and the cause of all the changes around them. The Indians and the Pirates were all for finding Peter and waking him up, but the Fairy Queen cautioned them that the outcome could be worse if he wasn't allowed to finish what had been started. Smee, ever cautious, suggested they consult the Mermaids as to their chances of escaping the island if the volcano finally exploded. The Mermaids had kept themselves clear of the inhabitants of the island since Peter's return but were now eager to find out for themselves what was happening. Smee and the Indian's Chief met the watery seductresses on the rocks outside the Black Castle, tying themselves firmly to the rocks to avoid being drawn under the waves by mistake, but their caution was unwarranted. The Mermaids told of the sea-floor buckling and rising, of the fish leaving their usual haunts and becoming harder to catch, of hot vents spewing gases from underwater cracks that appeared to now ring the island. Smee related all this to the Fairy Queen who again forbade anyone waking Peter. Alarmed, the Pirates laid their own plans instead and the sound of trees being felled echoed through the darkened forests as they worked to build boats for their escape. The Indians trusted the Fairy Queen who insisted that while Peter lived there was no real danger to the inhabitants of Neverland and they watched the Pirates frenetic activity with curiosity. Around them, the island continued to heave and strain, the Volcano still smoking and the ground still quaking. Among all this, Peter slumbered on, his dreams running into each other, his body changing and growing while the jungle around his home became more lush and impenetrable, almost smothering the giant tree that sheltered him in its heart.
Time passed differently on the island and five years passed as if in a blink of an eye. The Fairy Queen had appointed TinkerBell to report on Peter's condition and it was a breathless Tink that raced into the Fairy Glen and reported that Peter appeared to be waking up. Alindra bowed her head and let go a long sigh, her wings drooping before fluttering upwards again to carry the Queen up into the air.
"It had passed....and all is well....but I fear that our time on this land is soon to pass as well."
The lights from the hundreds of fairy beings that inhabited the glen gathered around their Queen and hovered, awaiting her command. She rose up into the air and addressed her subjects.
"We will go to the old tree and see for ourselves what has happened to Peter Pan."
With an imperious wave, the Queen signalled to TinkerBell to lead the way, then like a bright comet the inhabitants of the fairy glen followed their Queen through the jungle.
When they reached the tree it was once more dusk, the last remnants of the sunset painting the grove in soft light. The Queen ordered her people to enter by all the tiny ways, their lights ringing the tree and lighting all the dark corners. The Queen slowly descended into the main trunk, TinkerBell leading the way. As their light chased away the shadows they saw a figure lying on the raised stone couch and approached cautiously.
The Fairy Queen hovered over the couch, looking down into the features of the young man that lay sprawled over the furs, her light caressing his face with a golden glow as she stared in astonishment at the new Peter Pan. His hair had grown long and fine hairs now covered his cheeks and chin. His limbs were also much longer, one arm hanging over the side and resting on the floor. His body had grown in width and breadth and the Fairy Queen travelled its length in wonder. Flying back to his head, Alindra hovered directly above him and called.
"Peter....Peter Pan, it is time to wake up,"
Around her the light increased as other fairy folk drew near, TinkerBell hovering nervously to the Queens right.
"Awaken Peter Pan and see what time has wrought,"
A flicker of the dark lashes below her caused her to back away slightly, but no further movement made her draw close again.
"Wake up Peter...you have slept long enough,"
Below her the finely shaped lips parted and a sigh broke from Peter.
"Don't scold Wendy, I'm awake already,"
"Peter...this is not Wendy, it is Alindra."
As the Fairy Queen waited, Peter's eyes slowly opened, blinking at the lights crowding around him.
"Alindra...why are you here ?"
"Time has passed Peter...a long time and there have been changes,"
"Changes ?"
"Your world has changed and so have you,"
"Wha..."
"Your body has grown up,"
At Alindra's words Peter's eyes snapped open wide, his mouth dropping open. Lifting up his hands he looked at them, frowning as he noted how big they appeared. Next he noticed how close the roots were to his face before turning his head to look at the room beyond his bed. He took in the dangling roots hanging from the roof and the dust coating all the surfaces as well as the cobwebs looped from every corner.
"What has happened....was I asleep so long ?"
"Very long Peter,"
Awkwardly, Peter shifted on the couch, his head hitting the roof when he tried to sit up. The fairies backed away to give him room, their light playing over his skin and casting deep shadows over his features. Confused at his body's size, Peter fell off the bed and sat sprawled on the dirt floor, his eyes taking in his big feet and long, well muscled legs before reaching up a hand to feel his face. With a cry he felt the hair coating his chin and his eyes flew to the Fairy Queen in terror.
"What has happened to me ?"
"Your body has grown up Peter....something has caused a change in you,"
"A change ?"
"Yes....you are no longer a boy,"
Peter could only look at her blankly, his mind confused and alarmed. Looking around the room he realised how small it all looked and for a moment he wondered if he was now too big to get through the openings.
Looking down at himself, he noted idly that his clothes seemed to have been shed at some stage and that other things had most definitely grown as well as sprouted hair in a most embarrassing way.
"I don't understand how this has happened, I only lay down to rest...I ached so badly, I just needed to sleep,"
Alindra floated in front of Peter's face, drawing his attention away from the anomalies of his matured body.
"What happened on Hook's ship Peter.....TinkerBell has told us some of what happened, but not all. She said Wendy gave you a thimble. Was that some potion that may have caused this to happen ?"
"No...I....no it wasn't a potion...she....Wendy saved me,"
"But how Peter ?"
"She...gave me something, she said it would always be mine, and mine alone,"
"What Peter...what did she give you ?"
Peter raised his fingers to touch his lips, almost feeling the soft touch of Wendy's kiss again.
"Love....she gave me...love,"
A collective chorus of sound greeted his statement and Alindra nodded her head as if finally understanding the whole.
"Then I know what you must do Peter,"
"What...what must I do....how can I go back to being a boy again ?"
"You must find Wendy and give her love back,"
"Will that return me to being a boy ?"
Alindra turned away from Peter so he couldn't see her face. She understood too well what might happen if Peter found Wendy, but she feared for the future of Neverland, feared for them all.
"It will decide your future Peter, your future and ours."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wendy rose at a knock at her bedroom door and hurried over to open it. Outside Alice held a tray.
"Your Aunt sent some supper for you Miss."
"Oh...well you'd better bring it in...I've been asleep, is it late ?"
"Not really...there's enough time to get you changed and ready to go out."
"Out ?" Wendy stared at the maid in confusion, sitting back on the side of the bed as Alice fussed about the room. She noticed it was now dark outside, Alice pulling the curtains closed with a snap.
"You have an invitation to join Mrs.Parry's party at the theatre. Her son James will be there. Don't you remember ?"
"Oh...of course." Wendy sipped her tea, staring off into the distance as Alice pulled open the wardrobe and lifted a dress off its hanger. Like an automaton, Wendy allowed Alive to change her out of her day dress and into the elegant creation lying on the bed, its colour like pale spring leaves which floated around her like a cloud. An hour later and she was dressed and coiffered, her gloves and cloak in hand. Before she left the bedroom, in a last act of defiance, Wendy lifted the golden acorn from her jewellery case and asked Alice to fasten the catch. It lay against her breast, glinting in the gas light and warming her skin.
"Your Aunt wanted you to wear the black choker with the cameo Miss,"
"Not tonight Alice....tonight I wear what I want,"
With a swish of skirts Wendy made her way down the stairs and into the parlour to await her Aunt. Her eyes immediately went to the windows but they were already curtained against the night. Sighing, Wendy looked up into the mirror over the fireplace and contemplated her elegant reflection.
"Would you even recognise me Peter if you saw me ?"
Pulling on her long gloves, Wendy turned away from the mirror and sat down. Her fingers strayed up and softly touched the golden acorn before returning to rest in her lap. The door opened behind her and Aunt Millicent swept into the room, her dark blue dress a glitter with jet beading.
"Well, lets hope your rest has improved your conversational ability my dear. James and his mother are very well connected and could open many doors for you Wendy."
"And windows ?"
"Windows ? What are you talking about."
"Oh nothing Aunt...nothing at all."
"Well then, if you are ready...Chilten has the carriage at the door."
Mutely, Wendy followed her Aunt to the front door, smiling faintly at the butler before walking down the steps and climbing into the waiting carriage. Pinning a smile on her face, her heart heavy, Wendy prepared to be as congenial as possible for her Aunt's sake. As the carriage pulled away a star streaked across the sky, its trail blazing for a second before disappearing into the night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peter glanced down and saw the two ladies alighting the carriage but thought no more about it, his attention taken entirely by the search for the achingly familiar window of the Darling house somewhere ahead of him. He was still getting used to the new aerodynamics of his changed body, the wind buffeting him in ways he wasn't used to and causing him to veer off without warning. The clothes he wore were also hampering him, as well as feeling uncomfortable. After leaving the hideout Peter had flown with the Fairy Queen to the Pirates village in search of something to fit his grown-up body. Peter had wanted to use the leaves but Alindra had suggested that they were not up to the task of covering Peter adequately. Shrugging, Peter had decided not to argue, curiosity overcoming stubbornness as he wondered what had happened to Neverland in his long absence. The Fairy Queen sent most of her subjects back to the woodland glen before accompanying TinkerBell and Peter to the Pirate's new home.
Peter swooped low over the ramshackle collection of hovels and set himself down in the centre of the street outside the house that Alindra told him belonged to Smee. Peter had been glad to find that his ability to fly hadn't been taken away with his boyish body, but it was a tight squeeze for him to leave the ancient tree. Once outside, some of the fear and fright left him and he breathed deeply, the jungle air redolent with scents on that warm night. Now he approached the makeshift door that supposedly housed Smee and knocked loudly. A light shone through a window and Peter could hear footsteps approaching the door. It opened only a narrow crack and light spilled onto the street.
"Who is it ?" quavered a voice as its owner lifted the lantern higher.
"It is I, Peter Pan, Mister Smee,"
The lantern jerked and Smee jumped back from the door. Before he could close it Peter had pushed and it swung wide revealing the young man that was now Peter Pan to Smee's astonished gaze.
"Good gawd...you can't be Peter Pan...you're big!"
Alindra and TinkerBell both flew into the tiny house, their light shining brightly. Smee watched open mouthed as a very naked Peter Pan floated into the living room.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you its rude to barge in uninvited?" muttered Smee, peering out into the street before closing the door and turning to regard his visitors.
Alindra flew up to Smee and started to speak, her light reflecting in his round glasses. Smee listened and nodded occasionally, his head turning to regard the young man before him before turning back to Alindra.
"I guess that wouldn't be too much trouble, your Majesty," Smee finally answered, putting his lantern down on a table and walking slowly over to look Peter up and down consideringly. Peter stood on the wooden floor, his feet apart and arms folded. He felt terribly unsure, his face schooled into betraying none of the fear and embarrassment that caused his hands to shake. "I'll go and see what I can find, he's about the Captain's size so there's bound to be something he can use."
Peter watched as Smee approached a large, leather bound chest in the corner of the room, threw back the lid and started to pull items of clothing out apparently randomly. Alindra floated over Smee's shoulder and occasionally made a comment about items Smee held out to her. Finally he came back with a bundle of clothes and held them out to Peter who took them reluctantly.
"No good looking at me like that, young fellow-me-lad, you can't go around naked, it won't do."
"Won't do for what ?" asked Peter, his lip curling.
"Won't do for anything, that's what. You're not a child anymore."
Peter flinched at Smee's words, his eyes clouding as he clutched the bundle of clothes to his chest.
"Now take yourself off and get that lot on ya back. If you have any problems just shout out."
Peter allowed Smee to push him towards another small door beside the fire place and found himself in a small, but neatly kept bedroom. Smee shut the door behind him and Peter dropped the clothes on the bed. Picking them up he found a cream shirt with a wide collar, buttons down the front and long, ballooning sleeves that snugged into tight cuffs before ending in a ruffle of lace. It was a shirt he'd seen Captain Hook wear on many occasions. Pulling it over his head he found it covered him to the top of his thighs. The collar hung open with a deep vee, the ties hanging loosely, but for now Peter ignored them. A short vest, highly decorated was donned next, Peter admiring the elaborate embroidery and gold buttons before turning back to the bed. The trousers were next and Peter wrestled with them, finding them a snug fit and feeling strange against his new body. They fitted his waist but ended just below his knees. He left the shirt hanging out and reached for the boots. They were knee high and of the softest leather, black with a red edging around the top. Peter sat on Smee's bed and pulled one onto his right foot but he only got it half on before it stuck. No amount of tugging would get it up his calves so he pulled it off and left the boots on the floor. The last item was a hat that looked like the one he'd worn when taking the Jolly Roger back to deliver the Darling children home. Curling his lip, Peter tossed the hat back on the bed. Returning to the living room, he found Smee puffing a clay pipe while Alindra and TinkerBell floated above his head. When Peter appeared, Smee looked up and smiled a satisfied smile.
"Told you, he fits them clothes just fine."
"The boots were too tight," Peter told him when Smee looked pointedly at his bare feet. Alindra and TinkerBell both buzzed around Peter, sometimes tugging at the sleeves or tweaking the lace cuffs. Alindra then flew to Smee and whispered in his ear again.
"She says for me to do something about those whiskers and your hair," Smee explained, his watery blue eyes twinkling in the lantern's glow. When Peter took a step back Smee chuckled.
"I was barber to the Capt'n and you never saw a nick on that face, now did ya ? Well just relax and let ol'' Smee smarten you up, won't take a trick."
Smee steered a reluctant Peter to a chair beside the table before turning and rummaging in another locker beside the fire. Peter tried to appear nonchalant but he flinched when Smee swept a cloth over his head and settled it about Peter's neck.
"Is this really necessary ?"
Smee was laying out his tools of the trade before turning to fill a small pot with warm water from the kettle hanging over the fire. He turned back and regarded the youth staring back at him.
"I have no axe to grind with you Peter Pan. We've been living very quietly since the Captain passed, you have nothing to fear from me. Would Her Majesty bring you here if she thought there was any danger ?" Smee paused in the process of soaping up the small brush in his hand.
"N-o-o....go ahead Mister Smee.....have-at-ya!" Peter turned to stare straight ahead, not moving when Smee lathered up his chin and cheeks. Smee whistled while he worked, his blade catching flashes of light as it whisked around Peter's face. After completing the shave, Smee reached for a comb and started on Peter's hair. Both Alindra and TinkerBell watched in fascination as Peter's looks improved with every snip of Smee's scissors. Finally he was finished and he stepped back to admire his work, Peter's eyes swivelling to follow him as Smee ran his eyes over the boy's face and head.
"Prettiest job I've done in awhile...nice to know I haven't lost any of my skill."
TinkerBell was standing on the table in front of Peter, bouncing up and down and clapping her approval. Alindra looked on serenely and nodded her head, flying up after a moment to whisper into Smee's ear. Whatever she said made a wide grin light up the old man's face.
Smee bustled off and disappeared into his bedroom, emerging shortly with a large, full length mirror that Peter was sure he hadn't seen in there before. Smee propped it against a chair and stood back for Peter to see his new image. TinkerBell and Alindra floated above Peter's head to give him the best light as he approached the mirror. The man in the mirror stared back at him, a bemused expression on his handsome face. Peter felt his hand come up and touch his face but he had trouble reconciling it with the man in the mirror. Smee had cut his hair as short as he used to have it and it framed his head in a halo of blonde tipped curls. Turning his head back and forth Peter examined his new-old face and marvelled. The only constant were his eyes which carried a new light in their sea-coloured depths, along with the familiar stars and fairy dust. In the uncertain illumination of the fairies he was a loss to understand what that new light was, maybe Wendy would be able to tell him.
"Thank you Mister Smee."
"You're welcome lad."
Alindra fluttered around the two men, calling to Peter that it was time he left. Smee followed the boy and the two fairies to his front door, bidding Peter a safe journey, pressing a sword and leather belt scabbard into his hands before closing the door behind them. Peter padded down the narrow street to the small harbour, the bones of the Jolly Roger clear in the moonlight.
Peter looked up at the stars then turned around to the two fairies watching him. TinkerBell handed him his knife and his pan-pipes which he fastened to his sword belt. Alindra held up a gossamer fine chain with something attached. Peter held out his hand and the Fairy Queen dropped it into his palm. Peter looked and saw the kiss that Wendy had given him all those long days ago in the Darling nursery. It had been given a gold ring by the fairy craftsmen and now hung suspended off the gold chain.
"Thank you Alindra, now I can wear it always." Smiling at the bright fairy, Peter pulled the chain over his cropped head, the thimble coming to rest over his heart through the open neck of the shirt.
TinkerBell hovered closer to Peter's face, her wings fluttering.
"Goodbye Tink," Peter felt TinkerBell brush his cheek before she flew away, back into the jungle. Peter felt a lump in his throat and hurriedly cleared it before making his farewell to the Fairy Queen. "Goodbye your Majesty,"
"Goodbye Peter Pan.....I hope you find what you are looking for, but don't forget what you leave behind."
"I won't."
Pushing a small pouch into his hand, Alindra fluttered away, her light disappearing among the tall trees of the forest. Peter turned back and looked up at the moon rising so brightly overhead. Taking a deep breath he launched himself into the air and disappeared into the skies of Neverland, a streaking comet among the stars.
Now he floated above the blackened, sooty rooves of the city of London, his shirt sleeves flapping and his eyes searching the windows below. Finally he reached the streets of Bloomsbury, the chimney pots like old friends welcoming him home. On spying the tree outside the nursery, Peter alighted on the small balcony and peered into the room beyond. He abstractedly noticed that the small ledge appeared to have shrunk, his large feet taking up all the space. He pressed himself to the glass and looked into the nursery. At first glance it appeared that nothing had changed and Peter heaved a grateful sigh. But then he looked closer and his grin slipped. There were more beds in the room than before, and the bed with the heart at the base wasn't there at all. Peter panicked, his heart pounding painfully. He could feel the ache coming back and he absently rubbed his chest to ease it.
Taking a deep breath Peter pushed the window up, surprised that it wasn't locked. Crouching down he climbed inside and stepped down to the floor. He looked around the room, his eyes adjusting to the dim light thrown by the night-lights scattered around the room. He listened and heard the soft sounds of boys sleeping deeply, their dreams making them twitch and turn in their blankets. Hovering over the beds Peter inspected each occupant, surprised to find so many faces that hardly seemed recognisable. "Has it really been so long?" he mused, pausing above a bed that held a young boy clutching a much loved teddybear. "I know you, don't I?" Peter asked the sleeping boy, his voice barely above a whisper. Michael remained oblivious to his night-time visitor, clutching his bear closer as he sighed in his sleep. Peter visited each bed, the tousled heads of the former lost boys passing below him but still no sign of Wendy. Disappointed and frustrated, Peter alighted on the nursery floor and scowled at the beds. Noticing a carefully stacked pile of building blocks, Peter took aim with his foot and sent the whole lot crashing to the ground and skittering across the floor then he waited, his hands on his hips. Michael was the first to stir, yawning widely and sitting up in his bed. He looked around the room, almost missing the figure standing in the shadows, but something caught his attention because his eyes swivelled back and then rounded in surprise.
"Who are you ?" Michael asked, clutching his teddy closer. Peter flashed his grin and stepped from the shadows, light flooding his features, making Michael gasp. "I know you....I know you!"
Scrambling to his knees, Michael shuffled to the end of his bed and gaped open mouthed at Peter Pan as he rose into the air and crossed his legs Indian-fashion, coming to float just below the ceiling.
"Peter!"
Michael's delighted squeal woke some of the others and several tousled heads popped out from their blankets to stare round eyed at the boy from Neverland.
"What.....it can't be!"
"Peter ?"
"Its Peter!"
As he lowered himself back to the floor of the nursery, the former Lost Boys and Michael gathered around him, their hands reaching out to touch him reverently, as if unsure he really existed. Peter just let them explore, happy to let them. Nibs finally screwed up the courage to ask the question on everyone's lips.
"Why are you all grown up Peter?"
"Yeah.....how did you get so big?"
Peter raised his hand to still the clamour of voices all asking versions of the same question. Once the boys quietened, Peter spoke.
"I don't know why this has happened and I need Wendy to put it right. Is she here in the house and where's her other brother ?"
Michael exchanged looks with the other boys before stepping forward and explaining.
"Wendy doesn't live here anymore....you've been gone a long time Peter."
"Wendy doesn't live here.....then where is she?" fear sharpened Peter's tone which became harsh and demanding. Michael shied back a step, again looking to his siblings for support.
"She went to live with her Aunt, it was arranged for her before she went to Neverland Peter. She's been there ever since, she does visit often...although not much lately, and she doesn't play with us as she used to...but that's because of her Aunt...Slightly says she's very nice but I don't know...." Peter raised a hand to curb Curly's speech, his confused brain trying to sort out what Curly had said about Wendy.
"Her Aunt ?"
"Um.....yes...Aunt Millicent.....she lives fairly close...but I'm not sure where, as we don't get to visit often."
"Would John know ?" asked Nibs, looking over to Michael. Michael nodded his head. "Oh yeah, John would know."
Peter waved down the chorus of excited voices, the Lost Boys and Michael lapsing into silence.
"Where can I find John?"
"Oh....well he's away at boarding school," stated Curly, "He won't be back until the Christmas holidays."
"How long is that?" asked Peter, frowning. Curly only shrugged but Michael walked over to the wall and lifted down a sheet of paper that appeared to be covered in numbers.
"I made this at school Peter, it's a calender, it tells us how many days have passed. This is today's date," Michael pointed to one of the squares, "and this is when John will come home." Michael moved his finger to the bottom of the calender. Peter looked on in exasperation.
"But that's......forever, I need to find Wendy now," said Peter, getting to his feet and starting to pace. The boys drifted back to their beds and sat on them, gazing at their former playmate and Captain.
"You haven't told us what happened to you Peter...why you got so big...I thought you'd never...grow up!"
"So did I Michael....that's why I have to see Wendy...she'll know what's happening and how to stop it." Peter plumped himself down on one of the boys beds and gazed mournfully at his captive audience.
"We could ask Mother or Father," suggested Michael helpfully.
Peter looked sceptical, his mind filled with the image of Wendy's Mother sitting by the window wishing her children back. Peter remembered all to clearly his battle with the parents to close the window with Peter losing the tussle, his defeat a premonition of the fight to come with Hook.
"Will they help me ?"
"I don't know.....but I can ask for you,"
Curly snorted at Michael, punching his arm lightly. "You can't just go up and ask where Wendy lives, that will make them suspicious for sure."
Drawing himself up, Michael faced Curly down. "Who wins the make believe contest every time?"
A chorus of "You do" caused Michael to grin smugly.
"Leave it to me Peter.....I'll find out where Wendy lives. Stay here, I won't be long."
Peter watched bemusedly as Michael returned to his bed and gathered up his bear before heading for the nursery door. Peter and the remaining boys waited, Peter answering some of the boys questions, his ears listening out for any sound from outside the nursery. Within a few minutes Michael pushed open the door and slipped back inside. Peter jumped to his feet and waited expectantly.
"Fifteen Rosehill Road.....but I don't know which room Wendy is in."
"I'll know," Peter replied, a smile painting his face and making his eyes sparkle in the dim room. He immediately turned to leave but just as quickly turned back, making the boys nearest to him lean back in surprise. "Where is this......Rosehill Road?"
"Oh that's easy....its two streets down," Michael pointed to the left, "and a street across," he pointed again. "Then you count fifteen houses and you're there."
Peter tried hard to remember what Wendy had taught him about numbers but it proved elusive. "Fifteen ?"
Michael blinked before collecting himself, he walked over to the desk and pulled out a sheet of paper and a pencil. Quickly he sketched a make-shift map and handed it to Peter who turned the sheet in all directions before Michael showed him the right way to hold it.
"See Peter.....we're here and you go around the corner, along the street, turn here...go along that many doors and you're there."
"Hmmmm...okay...fine....sure," Peter screwed up his face in an effort to decipher Michaels squiggles. Michael tried again and this time Peter saw that he had drawn the map as if seen from the air, this time Peter understood and almost crowed his triumph, but stopped in time, not wanting to wake Mr.and Mrs.Darling.
"I have to go," Peter announced, folding the paper and tucking it into one of the vest pockets. He waved away the chorus of disappointment that greeted his announcement. "I'll come back after I fix things with Wendy."
"Okay Peter...say hello to Wendy for us...tell her we miss her stories," said Curly, shuffling his feet.
"I will....now I have to go," making his way to the large nursery window, Peter stepped onto the small balcony, the map firmly fixed in his minds eye. The boys crowded behind him and called goodbye as Peter launched himself off and flew above the roof tops and out of sight. Slowly the boys drifted back to their beds, Michael being the last to leave the window. Finally he joined his siblings and climbed back into his snug bed, Teddy firmly clutched under his arm. Curly turned over in his bed and stared at Michael.
"How did you find out Wendy's address?"
"I pretended I'd had a nightmare and wanted to go to Wendy....Father explained where she lived and how far away it was. Simple."
"You're good," said Nibs in awe. Soon the room was once more quiet and only the sounds of small boys sleeping disturbed the night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wendy hid a small yawn behind her gloved hand, her eyes straying to the clock that adorned the fussy mantle-piece in Mrs.Parry's over decorated drawing room. James Parry shifted on the couch next to Wendy, his knee, hidden by Wendy's skirts, nudging her discreetly. Wendy attempted to shift away but found herself up against the overstuffed arm, her retreat blocked. Her Aunt and his mother were deep in discussion, their heads close together, their hands juggling tea cups as they spoke softly, every now and then glancing at the two young people on the sofa opposite. Wendy ground her teeth as another nudge threatened to spill her tea down her skirt. She tried to catch her Aunt's eye to indicate her need to leave, but Millicent was deliberately obtuse and ignored her niece's signals, continuing her conversation with a will. Wendy felt ready to scream but the door opening provided an escape.
"The carriage is ready M'lady," the butler intoned, standing to one side with the door open. Wendy almost leapt to her feet, joggling James and setting his cup rattling. Millicent looked faintly cross but turned a winning smile upon her hostess.
"What a wonderful evening Charlotte....I so enjoyed the play, we must arrange another visit in the near future,"
"Of course Millicent...its always a pleasure to see you and your charming niece, isn't that so James?"
So addressed, the young man could only stutter his reply, his eyes gazing adoringly at Wendy as she returned her cup to the tea trolley and turned to go.
"O-o-oh...y-y-y-yes, most p-p-pleasant e-e-evening Mrs.H-h-harding. I look f-f-forward to seeing y-y-y-you and Miss W-w-w-Wendy again soon."
Despite the stutter, Wendy read the sincerity in James voice and rewarded him with a small smile which he soaked up like a flower bathed in sunshine. Millicent and Charlotte exchanged a conspiriatory glance before leaving the room, Wendy and James following behind. After brief farewells, Wendy relaxed back into the comfortable squabs of the carriage for the short drive back home. Across from her, Millicent twitched her gloves and skirt.
"A most successful evening, don't you agree my dear?"
"Hmmmmm" Wendy murmured, her eyes unfocussed.
Thinking that Wendy had a long last succumbed, her Aunt mentally rubbed her hands together, visions of a white wedding floating in front of her eyes. Wendy, far from thinking about weddings, was contemplating how someone so nice a James could leave her completely unmoved except for pity. It wasn't that James wasn't handsome, or that he was unsuitable, it was just that James wasn't Peter.
And that said it all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peter watched the carriage arrive, the clop of hooves alerting him as it pulled up to the steps three storey's below him. He perched on the gable, the wind tugging at him as he leaned over the sheer drop. He saw two women leave the strange box-like vehicle but he couldn't tell who was who. He'd found the house as Michael had directed, his first view through the window being a housemaid tidying a pretty bedroom at the top of the house before shutting the curtains and spoiling Peter's view. He'd checked the other rooms but none of them seemed either occupied or done in any style he could associate with his Wendy. He couldn't be sure that the room was Wendy's but he'd seen enough to tell him it belonged to a young woman and seemed too austere to belong to Wendy's fussy Aunt. He looked down, watching as the carriage disappeared around the corner, heading for the stables behind the house. Lights flickered out of several windows and Peter waited patiently for the house to settle for the night. Eventually there were only a couple of lights visible through their thick curtains, one of the windows directly below his perch. As he sat and waited Peter stared across the city skyline, the smoke rising lazily from the forest of chimneys dotting the roof tops, the distant outline of the huge clock that John had said was called Big Ben. As he swung his foot back and forth the huge clock struck the hour, its sonorous sound clear across the sleeping city. Another light flicked off in the house below and Peter inched forward, his teeth gleaming faintly as he saw that Wendy's bedroom light was still showing through the crack in the curtains. Pushing off, Peter floated down to the window ledge and settled off to the side, his ear pressed to the glass. He could see someone moving in the room through a small crack in the fabric, his view too restricted to see much more than a feminine figure as it passed the window. He heard a voice call a goodnight to someone called Alice, and the sound of a door closing before the main light clicked off leaving the soft light of the small bedside lamp to illuminated the bedroom. A small hand appearing in the gap between the curtains was his only warning before a woman pulled them back. Peter ducked to one side, flattening himself against the brick wall of the house. Whoever stood in the embrasure stayed there for several minutes before Peter heard the distinctive click of the window lock being moved. Thinking that is was being locked Peter tensed, ready to swing around and hammer on the glass but to his surprise the occupant of the room started to slide the window up, opening it to the night air, the thin wispy net curtaining billowing out, one corner touching Peter's face before he withdrew further along the wall. He felt terribly unsure of his reception, his usual cockiness tempered by awareness of his new appearance. He hovered out side, chewing his lip as the woman in the room stood unmoving at the window, Peter feeling that she must be staring up at the night sky, unaware of the chill of the evening breeze. He turned his head and stared at the area of sky that would be framed by the window and realised he was staring directly at his home star, its light bright and clear above the smoky city. He heard a sigh before the woman turned from the window, leaving it open. Peter edged closer and risked looking inside, his curiosity almost overwhelming.
Whoever was in the room was getting into the small bed, her filmy dressing gown dropping to the floor, her slippers kicked off haphazardly across the carpet, the bed creaking in protest as its occupant settled down for the night. Peter held his breath, the faint scent of perfume wafting out to meet him, the smell reminiscent of spring flowers mixed with heady tropical blooms. Peter filled his lungs and waited. After half an hour his patience was finally rewarded with the soft sounds of sleep from the room beyond his view. Silently he floated through the window, ducking to avoid hitting his head, touched down lightly and stood for a moment taking in the room around him. The soft pastel walls and lightly patterned florals reminded him of a garden, the pale-wood furniture warm in the soft light but the bed drew his particular attention, his eyes roaming over the outline under the covers. Smiling to himself Peter padded over and looked down at the woman lying so peacefully in her sleep.
Peter felt the breath leave his body. He had found the right room.
An ache started to swell in his chest, a familiar feeling but this time strangely different, as if he was full of something bright that needed to be released. Careful not to disturb her, he removed his sword belt, laying it down beside the discarded slippers on the floor, then Peter started to rise again, coming to hover directly above Wendy, like he'd done that first night when curiosity had got the better of him and he had to touch her, to make her real to him. Now the feeling was unbearably strong, his urge to touch the serene face relaxed in slumber overwhelming his feeling of confusion and insecurity. Shaking slightly, Peter reached out a cautious finger and gently touched the lips that had wrought so many changes in his life with their soft embrace. He traced their outline, fascinated at the new shape of Wendy's face, its finely arched brows, the thick lashes resting on smooth cheeks. His finger ran feather light over her face, lifting a tendril of silky hair and running it over his hand, revelling in the feel and texture. So absorbed had he become in the experience he failed to notice that the eyes that had been closed and sealed to his gaze were slowly opening, sleepy and slumberous but assuredly opening, their blue depths unfocused at first but rapidly sharpening as they perceived the face scarce inches from their own. A faint gasp alerted Peter that his scrutiny had roused the sleeper and his bright eyes clashed with her blue in a look that suspended time.
Wendy's hand had been resting palm upwards on the pillow beside her head, now she brought it up, questing to touch the face so close to her, the slender fingers tentatively touching the strong but dear face that smiled so engagingly down at her. Almost against her will her lips thinned and pulled into an answering smile, her teeth gleaming in the soft light that bathed them both in a circle of intimacy.
"I've dreamed of you...so many nights I've dreamed of you,"
"I'm no dream," Peter reached up his hand and softly pressed hers to his cheek, his warmth engulfing and heating her skin like a firebrand.
Still bemused, Wendy canted her head to the side, blinking slowly as she surveyed the boy-man floating above her, his complete disregard for personal space his constant failing, but her private delight. Again Peter reached down and ran a skein of hair through his fingers, the light catching gold as the hairs slid through to fall back onto her pillow.
Wendy reached higher and tangled her own fingers in his sun-kissed hair, threading them around his head and pulling him closer so that they lay a breath apart, almost nose to nose.
"If you were a dream......could I still do this?"
With a gentle tug Wendy pulled Peter down to her, their lips meeting in a kiss that started out soft and sweet but progressed very quickly to something that set both their bodies thrumming and their hearts racing. Peter braced his elbows on either side of the pillow, cradling Wendy's head as he angled his to deepen the kiss. The ache in his chest turned to a tumult of butterflies, his body remaining suspended, his eyes closed, sensation consuming him.
A growl from deep in his throat and an added pressure on her lips brought Wendy fully awake, her head jerking back slightly to break the contact, surprised to find her arms entwined firmly around Peter's neck while his hands bracketed her head, strong fingers buried in her hair.
Peter followed her lips, lost to all else but the incredible feelings racing through his body. Wendy lifted her hand and tugged at his short hair, breaking contact again and finally getting Peter's attention, his eyes clashing with hers, deep and stormy and burning with an inner fire.
"You aren't a dream.......you're here.....your real!"
To Peter's dismay Wendy's blue eyes started to sheen over, tears gathering, slipping from the corner of her eyes and sliding down to disappear into her hair. She closed them, overwhelmed with emotion, her lashes spiky and wet while Peter looked on, unsure what to do.
"Don't cry Wendy...please, I can't bear it when you cry...it hurts,"
Wendy hitched her breath, her lips parting, trembling, dragging in a ragged breath as she fought to stop her emotions sweeping her into a complete wreck, her hand coming up to cover her face. As Peter waited, his fingers smoothed the hair back from her face in an unconscious soothing motion, he let his body fall to the bed slowly, settling himself beside her, half leaning over but not actually on her. Finally, after a shuddering deep breath, Wendy lifted her hand and turned her head to regard the face so close to hers. Her hand once more reached over from where it had fallen back to the pillow, her fingers smoothing a winged eyebrow, following the line from cheek bone to chin, feeling the soft rasp of bristles under her pads before tracing the outline of the lips that had seconds before been pressed to hers.
"You forgot me Peter........you forgot your promise,"
"I didn't forget Wendy.....I could never forget.....something happened to me....to Neverland.....haven't you noticed ?" he flicked his eyes down to indicate his matured body, " I got big."
A chuckle rose in her throat, breaking from her lips and curving them into a sweet smile. "I noticed that. My Peter has all grown up,"
A frown instantly marred Peter's brow, his eyes skittering away and turned dark, his lips thinning into a grimace.
"I'm not grown up," he stated, "I just grew,"
Smiling at his denial, Wendy refrained from any more comments, her eyes drinking in the changes, seeing how her beautiful boy had turned into the most handsome young man she'd ever hoped to see. A corner of her mind reminded her that the reality wasn't that far from what her imagination had been conjuring during the long years and she wondered how she'd known what Peter would look like as a grown man.
"Tell me what happened Peter,"
Shifting slightly onto his side, Peter reached up a hand and ran it through his hair, mussing is further.
"Alindra said that I fell asleep when I arrived back from taking you home,"
"Alindra?"
"The Fairy Queen...you saw her dancing in the hollow tree,"
"Oh yes......dancing,"
Peter shot Wendy a quick glance, her husky voice igniting a fire again inside him, his body tensing again. Clearing his throat he ignored the blue eyes that roamed over his face, concentrating on his story and not the warm curves turned so trustingly into the shelter of his body.
"But it wasn't an ordinary sleep......it lasted forever, or at least a very long time, and while I slept I grew.....no-one can explain exactly why. Neverland has been changing too."
"No-one?....not even Alindra ?"
"Um......she did suggest.."
"What Peter?.....you don't have to leave Neverland forever, do you ?"
"No...no...nothing like that. She said......I had to return your love, give it back to you,"
He lifted his eyes to meet Wendy's, not sure of her reaction.
Wendy lay quiescent, her head slightly turned away as she considered Peter's words. Worried by her lack of response, Peter used the tip of a finger on her chin to return her attention back to him.
"Wendy ?"
"I'm sorry Peter......I'm not sure what to say. If I understand you....and Alindra....the kiss....er thimble...I gave you, and which saved your life.......you have to give that back to me ?"
"I think that's what she meant,"
"And this will return you back to your former self ?"
"Um.....I don't know...Alindra wasn't exactly specific, but she said my future and the future of Neverland depended on it."
Wendy turned thoughtful again, her eyes leaving his face to stare at the ceiling above them. Peter once more drank his fill, his gaze moving from her face down her long neck to the edge of her night-rail. A glint of light proved to be a chain and he hooked a finger under the fine links, pulling the necklace into the light. The gold chased Acorn flashed as it dangled from his fingers, twirling lazily, the hole the only mar on its perfection. Wendy watched through lowered lashes as Peter inspected the "kiss", his brow furrowing slightly as he inspected it. As if in a dream, he dropped the acorn on its chain and lifted his hand to his shirt front, pushing aside the material to release the chain encircling his own neck, its burden swinging out to hang in front of Wendy's incredulous eyes. The thimble she'd given him so long ago shone brightly, its pitted surface reflecting sparks as it hung from Peter's fingers.
"You didn't forget," Wendy breathed, tears once more sheening her eyes, but this time forestalled as she blinked them away, swallowing hard. She reached out and touched the small talisman, warm from Peter's skin, her fingers closing around his to trap it between their hands. Peter gripped the thimble tightly, Wendy's touch as fierce as his own.
"I could never forget...anymore than you."
A bubble of pure joy forced its way from Wendy's throat, her arms once more twining around his neck, her body rising from the bed as she pulled him into a hug that almost felt as if she was trying to climb inside his skin. She inhaled deeply, revelling in his scent of sunshine and sea before letting the bubble burst and a peal of pure laughter escape her lips. Peter held her tight, grinning into her slim shoulder, his doubts and fears retreating in the glow of his Wendy's welcome.
Pulling back slightly, Peter sat more upright, Wendy following him so that they ended up facing each other, hands entwined.
"I want you to come back.....back with me......tonight, now.....this second!"
"Come back...to Neverland?"
"Fly with me Wendy....fly away back to my home,"
"But...." Peter clamped his hand across her mouth as he'd done to stop her denouncing fairies. Wendy's eyes widened in surprise as such rude handling but she didn't speak when he lowered his fingers, frowning at her, his eyes fierce.
"You don't belong here......you belong with me....we belong together, it's what Alindra meant, I see that now....you and me together, we can do anything."
"What about my life here? what about the Lost Boys....my brothers....my family?"
Abruptly Peter stood up, the bed rocking with the force. He once more ran a hand through his already disordered hair before turning his back on Wendy and pacing off, turning almost immediately to face her, his expression at once confused and imperious.
"You said you'd dreamed of me.......what need would you have of dreams if you didn't truly want to return to Neverland....return to me?"
Under his direct gaze Wendy dropped her eyes, her fingers pleating the bed linen as she tried to organise her disordered thoughts.
"I did dream about you....so often I lost count. I hoped every night that you would fly down and take me away, so many times I wanted you to.....but I have waited so long, I think......I think I've forgotten how to fly. Its not just a simple matter of - do I go with you..or not....I have a family here Peter. My mother and father, my aunt, my brothers.....I can't just give that all up." She gestured helplessly at Peter. "You say you have to take my love back for everything to return to the way it was...but I don't want things to be the way it was...I like how I am now." She looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading his understanding. "I have grown up Peter, in body as well as mind...and I don't want you to take back my love if it means that I have to give up everything I know and love here." She heard Peter draw in his breath sharply, his eyes darkening as they watched her. Unable to bear the recrimination she thought she saw in his eyes, Wendy dropped hers once more to the bedspread, tears gathering and falling as she finally lost control and gave into the urge to weep, her hands coming up to cover her face.
Peter chewed on his bottom lip, conflicting emotions chasing across his face. Anger that she would repudiate his offer, fear that she might actually mean all that she'd said, Joy in his heart that she felt so strongly about him that she was torn between her world and his, confusion as to how to convince her to follow her heart and his. Eventually he couldn't bear not to touch her again and he sat down once more on the bed, gathering her into his arms and rocking her as he'd seen her do with the Lost Boys when they'd needed comfort from some minor hurt. Wendy wept into his neck, her tears soaking his shirt as he softly rubbed her back, murmuring nonsense as she released her pent up emotions against his chest.
Eventually the storm passed and he felt her hands creep around his back, her fingers gathering up his shirt and holding tight, her breath warm on his skin as she drew in shuddering breaths in an attempt to calm herself. Peter buried his nose in her silky hair, his eyes closing as he tried to absorb the very essence that surrounded her, his arms tightening around her until there wasn't a space between them and they sat clasped, chest to chest, silent and entwined.
"Come back with me Wendy.....I won't ask you to stay forever if you don't want to....but come back and stay with me...just for awhile. I'll bring you back whenever you want....just....please....come back, it will be our grandest adventure."
Sniffing, Wendy pulled back, her eyes downcast as she tried to bring some order to her wet cheeks and red nose. Peter released her, watching silently as she reached under her pillow for a small square of linen to wipe her eyes and nose, his heart thumping as he waited, so unsure of her answer. With a final blow, Wendy put aside the hanky and turned to face him, her eyes like the ocean after a rain storm.
"I will come back with you Peter....but I must write a letter explaining, for everyone I leave behind. And I will want to come back to see them....but more than anything, I do want to see Neverland again with you."
Peter sat for a moment, stunned and not entirely sure that he had heard right. "You do want to come back with me?"
Wendy smiled at his confused expression, her eyes lighting up as he answered her smile with a faint one of his own.
"Yes Peter....I do want to fly back with you.....tonight, right now...right this second."
"But you said.......you said,"
"I know.....I still stand by what I said, I don't want to go back to being a little girl Peter, I like," she gestured vaguely at herself," all this, and there is so much I can do as I am, that I couldn't do before.....so that hasn't changed. But I do want to go with you, its what I've dreamed for so long and been so long denied."
"I never meant to stay away so long Wendy."
"I know you didn't....and I'm sure we'll find...whatever has caused this," again she waved vaguely at Peter," in Neverland...together!"
For a second Peter simply stared at her, almost too overcome to move.
"Peter? Did you hear me?" Wendy waved her hand in front of Peter face, her own smiling broadly at his stunned expression.
As if stung by a bee, Peter suddenly jumped off the bed, his heart too full to allow him to remain still. With a push he was airborne again, swooping up to the ceiling before jackknifing and flying around the room, Wendy looking on with a smidgin of trepidation, her eyes following his lithe body as it twirled and twisted, her hands clasped against her chest. In a move that knocked her on her back, Peter swooped low and came to hover once more directly over her, his arms outstretched, his face alight with mischief and something wickedly alive that Wendy found irresistible. Peter remained above her, his lips curved in a grin that Wendy remembered from her first encounter with Peter Pan. A grin that promised much and sent a thrill running down to her toes.
Placing her hands on his chest she pushed him up and away so that she could once more sit upright and swing her legs off the bed. Peter slowly floated to the floor, standing watchfully as Wendy got up and moved to the desk in the corner, lighting the candle and pulling out the neat chair before sitting down, picking up sheets of paper and opening the inkwell then dipping her pen. She chewed on its end for a few seconds then started to write, her pen flying over the sheets in a neat, concise hand. Peter sauntered over, his arms crossed, to see what she was doing, his curiosity piqued. Wendy ignored his presence, her thoughts concentrated on what to tell her family. As she continued, Peter grew bored and turned away, his pacing taking him to the tall bureau where he started to pull out drawers and inspect their contents. The top three small drawers contained gloves and other accessories, all of them scented with little sachets trimmed with lace. He held one up to his nose, inhaling the fragrance so reminiscent of Wendy herself. He shut them and moved onto the next set, the bigger drawers holding pieces of fabric that he assumed were more clothes. They were mostly filmy and slipped through his fingers, silky to the touch like Wendy's hair. He bunched the material in his hand and again held it up to his nose, inhaling the perfume.
"Peter!" Wendy's outraged laugh made him drop the dainty articles in a hurry, his hands slamming the drawer shut as he turned his back, an innocent grin plastered to his face.
"I was only looking.....if you plan of wearing those things, they won't last long in Neverland. Don't you have something a bit more.....hardy ?"
"I'm sure I'll find something suitable to wear Peter....but in the meantime tell me.....how did you know where I was?"
"Michael told me....he found out from your parents and drew me a map." He pulled the scrap of paper out of his pocket and showed it to her. "I didn't know if this was your room, but it was."
"Oh the cleverness of you," Wendy smiled, turning back to continue writing. Peter cast the bureau a lingering look before turning to regard the bookshelf beside it. He pulled down one of the book and opened the cover, a picture of a ship instantly drawing his attention.
"What's this book about ?" He asked, thumbing the pages and seeing more pictures of different ships. Wendy glanced over and shrugged.
"I got that from the circulating library, its a book about ships, both past and present, that are part of the British Navy. I use it when I'm writing my stories."
Peter looked up at her last comment, noticing the flush painting Wendy's cheeks before she returned to her letter.
"Your stories? Have you written any about me?"
Sighing deeply, Wendy put down her pen and turned back to face him, her eyes catching his for a minutes before dropping in embarrassment.
"They are all about you Peter."
Grinning unashamedly, Peter put the book back on the shelf and padded over to her, crouching down on his haunches to look up at her. Wendy leaned on the back of her chair and reached out a hand to ruffle his sun bleached hair.
"You wrote stories about me. Did I win?"
"Yes Peter.....you won every battle, and lived happily ever after."
"Are you in the stories?"
"Yes....I fought those battles right beside you."
"And did we live happily ever after?"
Smiling dreamily, her fingers still tangled in his hair, Wendy sighed again.
"Yes Peter......we lived very happily, every time."
"Can I see?"
Turning away, Wendy gripped the papers she'd been using before lifting the lid of the desk and pulling out a thick manuscript, the cover a rich red Morrocan leather bound with a strip of gold cord, tassels hanging from an elaborate knot. Closing the desk, Wendy held the precious book to her chest for a second before twisting around and handing it over to the boy-man crouched at her knee. Peter smiled uncertainly as she handed it over, his hands feeling the butter soft leather and the weight of paper held in between its leaves.
"All these stores.....you must have been writing forever," he regarded them with awe.
"All my dreams are on those pages Peter. Nobody's read my stories, although the boys have heard several of them over the years."
"Can we take it to Neverland.....I want you to tell me these stories Wendy....please?"
"I would like that....but I must finish this before I go, so let me get on."
Sitting once more on the bed, Peter listened for a moment to Wendy writing, the scratch of the pen the only sound in the room. He placed the book of Wendy's stories on the bed beside him, his fingers smoothing the leather almost reverently. He saw his sword on the floor and picked it up, belting it around his slim waist before setting off to inspect the room again, this time heading for the window and peering outside. The moon had risen and shone directly in front of him, his star dimmed against the bright lunar light. Bracing his hands on each side of the frame he breathed deeply of the night air, oblivious of the chill, his eyes searching the heavens for the familiar constellation. His heart felt light and carefree, the ache almost completely gone, all his insecurity and confusion washed away by a pair of soft hands that made his skin come alive under their touch and blue eyes that mirrored the ocean in their depth.
Behind him, Wendy folded her letter, finished as last, and wrote several names on the fold before pressing a kiss to the paper and rising to her feet. She walked to the small fireplace and put the letter behind one of the small ornaments, positioning it so that it stuck out for anyone to notice. Peter had turned and watched her, noting the slight droop to her shoulders as she stepped back from the mantle and stared for a moment at the letter.
"Wendy?"
"I'm almost ready Peter...I just need a few things, you can't expect me to live in just my nightie....not this time anyway."
Peter stepped out of the window embrasure and cocked an eyebrow at her, his expression curious. Wendy grimaced at him and headed back to the bed, bending down to pull something out from under it. A large carpet back appeared and Wendy pulled it up onto the bed, the manuscript the first thing to go into it.
"I won't need much Peter....just a few bits and pieces."
Peter only shook his head at her in amused tolerance as she bustled about, pulling open drawers and inspecting their contents before selecting one or two items and tossing them towards the bed, some of them landing on the floor at his feet. He watched her closely, his gaze taking in her new shape and the way she moved, or more rightly swayed, her body all soft curves, dips and hollows and other intriguing shapes that appeared and disappeared as her nightdress swirled around her in her haste to sort out her clothes. Her hair also swirled around her shoulder like a silken cloak, his fingers itching to catch it and run it through them, his body starting to thrum again the more he thought about it until he had to turn away and let the cold night air wash over him, cooling his skin and dulling the sensations swamping him.
Finally Wendy appeared to have finished her sorting, the bed squeaking faintly as she stuffed items into the capacious carpet bag, the clasp closing with a snap. She was still wearing her nightdress, having donned her wrapper and tied it tightly around her waist, unconsciously emphasising her hips and breast, her feet encased in the slippers formerly discarded. A blue ribbon held her hair back and she grasped the handle of the bag with slightly shaking fingers.
"I'm ready Peter."
With a grin he held out his hand to her. Wendy let go of the bag and gripped his long fingers with one hand. They stepped out of the window and Wendy gasped at the cold air as much as the sheer drop that lay inches from the window ledge where they stood. Peter reached across and took the bag, smiling when Wendy gripped his hand even harder, her knuckles turning white. He hefted the bag in his hand and slowly floated off the ledge, never letting go of Wendy's hand so that he came to hover in front of her, his teeth gleaming in the light from the bedroom. Wendy had her eyes closed, her free hand clenched into a fist. A frown marred Peter's face before realisation dawned on him. She was afraid.
"Trust me Wendy.....I won't let you fall....let go....let go,"
He tugged gently at her fingers, keeping a firm grip until he felt Wendy take a deep breath and step off the ledge, her eyes still closed. Peter drew her hand to his shoulder and waited for her to grip his shirt before letting go and quickly wrapping his arm about her waist, pulling her to him in a close embrace. Surprised at the move, Wendy let go a gasp of surprise and opened her eyes, finding her self once more nose to nose with Peter. He was grinning infuriatingly, his eyes shadowed.
"That wasn't so hard....was it?"
Wendy glanced down and saw her slippered feet dangling three storeys from the road below, her hands clutching convulsively at Peter's shirt as they twirled lazily outside her bedroom window.
"I hope you have a good store of happy thoughts Peter, it's going to take me awhile to get the hang of this again,"
"I have enough happy thoughts to last forever Wendy," he whispered, his breath washing over her face like a summer breeze, her body relaxing against his as he held her, his arm strong against her back, her fears retreating like snow before the sun.
They started to rise up slowly, the houses dropping away below them, the moon bathing them in cold light. Peter angled away and started to fly slowly over the roof tops, his eyes flicking between Wendy and the way ahead. She still clutched his shirt but not quite so desperately, his arm secure around her waist, her confidence returning the further they went. Within seconds Peter was slowing and Wendy looked forward to see the familiar window of her old nursery coming up on their right, the window shut. Peter lowered them to the small balcony and Wendy's feet touched down gently, Peter beside her.
"Peter?"
"I told the boys I'd come back before I left...and I knew you really wanted to say goodbye to them yourself."
Deeply touched, Wendy felt tears pricking and she buried her face in his shoulder for a minute before pulling herself together and reaching for the window. Together they pulled up the sash and looked into the nursery, the night lights casting a soft glow over the beds and their occupants.
Stepping inside Wendy glided over to Michaels bed and gazed down at the tousled head, her heart heavy. Shaking the narrow shoulder she watched at her brother awoke, his eyes blinking up at her as he fought off sleep.
"Wendy?"
"Yes love, its me....I've come to say goodbye."
"Goodbye?.....then Peter found you okay?"
"Yes love, he did....and I'm going back to Neverland with him."
"Will you be happy now?"
Surprised that her brother would be so aware of her emotional state, Wendy could only raise her eyebrows in surprise, eliciting a giggle from Michael.
"Don't look so surprised Sis....I've known since the day he left that he would return......for you."
"Then you knew more than me Michael....and I'm glad you did." They exchanged a conspiriatory smile before hugging each other fiercely. Wendy released him and became more serious.
"You have to try and make Mother and Father understand, I've written them a letter but it might help if you talk to them as well."
"I'll do that Wendy.....don't cry," Michael lifted a finger to catch a tear that slipped its wet path down Wendy's cheek.
"I'll miss you little brother..take care of the others for me....tell them stories....if I can, I'll come back and visit....as often as I can."
"I know.....be happy Wendy....I don't like it when you're sad,"
"I will be Michael," Giving her brother a final hug, she rose to her feet and approached each of the other beds, her body bending as she kissed each of the Lost Boys in turn, some of them stirring slightly, but most just turning over in their sleep. She glanced back once more and waved to Michael before walking to the window, her hand finding Peter's unerringly.
"Goodbye Peter....goodbye Wendy....have a grand adventure,"
Michael watched them duck through the window, their bodies rimmed by moonlight for a brief moment before lifting off and disappearing. Biting back the urge to cry, Michael clutched his battered teddy closer and burrowed under the covers, his sniffs muffled by the bedding.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter: Two - The Return
A grand adventure where new friends abound and old enemies flourish.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wendy gasped anew at the sight spread out before her. They had just crossed the boundary between her world and his, their flight through the cosmos as breathtaking as the first time. As they speeded up to break through the final barrier, Wendy held tight to Peter's shirt, his arm a solid band around her waist. Together they plunged into the brightest light and into the deepest darkness, stars surrounding them as they slowed.
"Oh Peter...I'd forgotten." She gazed in awe as the brilliant yellow globe of the sun rose slowly and majestically above the horizon, bathing the island peaks in a rosy glow, its rays like searchlights, highlighting all the details.
"Welcome home, Wendy,"
She turned her head to grin at him, her chest filled to bursting with emotion. Peter returned her grin with one that set her pulse racing, before cocking an eyebrow at her and tightening his grip before swooping towards the island laid out below them. Wendy shrieked as they plummeted through the clouds, cold wisps brushing her face and teasing her hair before parting to reveal the ocean rippling far below, getting closer by the second. Peter levelled off and they flew more slowly, Wendy now able to make out more details as they approached. She saw the tall peak of the volcano, its head shrouded in a crown of clouds. Below them was the sweep of Mermaid Bay, the rocks draped with several female forms that lifted languid arms upwards as if to snatch Peter and Wendy from the sky itself. Seabirds rose in a cloud to greet them, circling the strange birds that floated across their sky. Further along the coast Wendy spotted a mast canted to the side and pointing like a bony finger, its bulk largely lost in the shallow waters of a lagoon.
"Is that the Jolly Roger?"
"Yes....I'll tell you all about it when we get settled,"
Keeping her curiosity in check Wendy looked to the shore and saw a motley collection of ramshackle shacks lining the white sandy beach, several plumes of smoke rising lazily into the air.
"The pirates?"
"Aha," Peter answered, his eyes ignoring the vista below to scan the forest ahead. As if in answer to an unknown signal, bright points of light started to stream from the centre of the great forest, their number so great it looked like golden ribbons rising from the trees. Peter squeezed Wendy's side to draw her attention and she gasped at the sight of the fairy population rising to greet them. One light appeared brighter than the rest and she rightly conjectured that this would be Alindra. Peter brought them to a halt and hovered, still several feet above the tops of the giant trees, waiting for the fairy host to reach them. Soon they were surrounded in a flashing cloud of fluttering wings and tinkling voices. Wendy watched enchanted as they approached her, their tiny bodies flitting around her until she felt blinded by their brilliance and drowned in fairy dust. So absorbed in the spectacle she didn't notice when Peter released his hold on her so that she now floated on her own. He kept close, in case she panicked, but her absorption in the fairies was complete and she didn't notice at all, her expression enraptured.
Alindra approached the pair, her hands outstretched in welcome and Wendy watched bemused as the Fairy Queen flew straight up to Peter's face and embraced him while her court fluttered around, their bell like voices raised in celebration. Alindra then floated to Wendy and hovered in front of her face, inspecting the young woman closely. As if pleased with what she saw, Alindra moved closer and extended her hand to touch Wendy's face before fluttering back and surveying the two.
"You have returned to us Peter Pan. I see that you have accomplished part of your quest in bringing the Wendy that you sought,"
Wendy shot a quick look at Peter, her eyes wide, silently asking for a translation of the bell-like speech.
"Alindra says hello," Peter translated, giving her a grin. Wendy felt sure there was more to it than that, but held her tongue, content to wait until she could quiz him later.
Alindra continued. "Neverland has languished without you here Peter....but we have been busy since you left. As you no longer fitted the home you have known as a boy, we created, with help from the pirates and the Indians, a new home for you."
Wendy noted the pained expression that crossed Peter face, followed quickly by a frown.
"A new home?"
"Follow us Peter.....I think you will find it....appropriate,"
Without waiting for an answer, Alindra swept away, her fairy folk lining up behind her and streaming off towards the forest. Peter exchanged a glance with Wendy before reaching for her hand once more and tugging her along beside him. It was then that Wendy realised she had been floating entirely on her own throughout Alindra's speech. She felt a moment of panic but it was quickly squashed as the familiar and long forgotten feeling of flying filled her, her confidence soaring as they skimmed the trees. Ahead of them the golden ribbon of fairy folk wound its way between the tree-tops. Peter noted that they were still heading towards his old home in the giant of the forest and he was consumed with curiosity. He could see the top of the tree and what appeared to be several bulky shapes among its branches. He frowned as they approached but his face cleared as he understood what had been done.
"It's a tree-house," he shouted gleefully, his face alight with excitement. Wendy peered ahead and saw a series of hut-like structures connected by hanging rope bridges all strung amongst the enormous branches of a huge tree. As they got closer they saw that the treehouse was nestled securely among the foliage, cleverly disguised and almost appearing to be part of the tree itself.
"Oh how clever they are, its wonderful,"
Peter brought them both down to land on a wide bamboo platform that acted as a balcony for one of the larger huts, its roof thatched in the living leaves of the tree itself. Alindra hovered above them, her fairy folk flitting in and out of the windows and doors of the huts, while Peter and Wendy looked on in wonder.
Peter put down the carpet bag he was still holding and approached the fairy host, holding out his hand and waiting for the Queen to alight. Alindra fluttered down, accompanied by another fairy that Peter recognised instantly.
"Tink...its great to see you,"
TinkerBell twittered and buzzed around him, her light never still. Peter laughed when she perched on top of his head, her laugh echoing his like a trill of crystal bells. Wendy stood to the side, entranced by her surrounding, touched by the effort that had gone into the enormous structure, all for their benefit. She leant on the banister rail that bordered the platform they were standing on, her gaze drawn to the sheer drop, the ground lost among the branches of the trees below them. Turning back she saw that the Fairy Queen was still standing on Peter's hand and once more talking to him. Happy to leave them to catch up, Wendy walked over the wooden slats and approached the hut, looking through the doorway into the room beyond. Several fairies still fluttered around and their light illuminated the corners, highlighting the rough furniture and woven mats that covered the floor. She had read a story once about a family lost at sea and cast upon a desert island where they built a tree-house to live in. Now Wendy would have the opportunity to experience that life for herself. After the staid regulations of London life, this was going to be truly an adventure to write about.
"Wendy?"
She left the hut and stepped once more into the bright morning sun, squinting slightly after the dark interior.
"Yes Peter?"
"Alindra is leaving....she wanted to say goodbye."
Stepping to Peter's side, Wendy looked down at the tiny Queen perched on Peter's outstretched hand. Alindra looked up at the girl and fluttered up so that she was in front of Wendy's face.
"Be happy Wendy.....our lives, and your future are in your hands."
Wendy looked to Peter to translate and she caught a fleeting expression on his face before he caught her eye and smiled broadly.
"Alindra says goodbye," he told her, an innocent look plastered on his features, a look belied by the twinkle in his eye.
"I'm sure she said more than that," Wendy muttered before turning back to regard the Queen.
"Thank you Your Majesty. And thank you for all of this, it's wonderful."
Alindra nodded her head regally then turned and started to fly away, her fairy folk gathering in a golden stream behind her. They watched as they disappeared among the trees.
With a shout Peter leapt into the air, twirling around before turning a cartwheel, Wendy clapping her hands and laughing at his antics. He briefly alighted in front of her but only long enough to pull her into his arms before leaping into the air once more, this time to twirl her around until she felt breathless, her laugh ringing out as they whirled and dipped, Wendy holding out the skirts of her nightdress like a wing, Peter holding her in his embrace as they danced among the sunbeams slicing through the leaves above them. Wendy flung her head back and closed her eyes, Peter's arm secure around her back, his hand clasping hers.
"I could dance like this forever," she gasped, bringing her head up and gazing at him, her eyes like twin stars. Her hair flowed behind her as they slowed down, its strands tangling in their arms, covering them like a cape. Peter set them down on the balcony again, Wendy breathless and filled with delight. She rested her forehead on his chest for a minute, panting slightly as she came back to earth. Peter stood quietly, his body suffused with warmth, his heart too full for words.
As her breathing returned to normal Wendy became aware of Peter's heart beating under her cheek, steady and strong, just like its owner. Stepping back she pulled away, disentangling her hair with a self conscious smile.
"This isn't going to be very practical here, is it? Maybe I should cut it short."
"NO!"
She looked up in surprise at his vehemence, her eyes wide. Peter grinned back at her, quirking an eyebrow.
"I like it like that....it's soft."
"Well....if you like it." Smoothing the hair away from her face, Wendy twisted it into a loose knot behind her head to keep it clear before turning to face the hut behind them. Peter stepped around her and went to stand in the doorway.
"It would make a nice sitting room," Wendy suggested, taking in the window seat against one wall and the rude but sturdy chairs against the other wall. Peter cast her a glance before nodding.
A gleam sparked in his eyes and he reached for her hand once more.
"Let's explore."
The rest of the day was spent in the excitement of finding all the hidden treasure scattered throughout their new home. They found huts for all manner of uses, all connected by rope bridges that spanned the gnarled branches like spiders webs. Wendy had found a collection of smallish huts containing sleeping quarters for half a dozen people and she wondered if they would be able to have the Lost Boys and her brothers stay with them again. Further along she found two rooms separate from the rest, their roof and walls entirely made of entwined vines woven together in intricate patterns. Inside she found one room decorated with gossamer thin swathes of shimmering fabric that moved with the breeze, the walls sprouting multi-coloured trumpet flowers that exuded a heady scent. Against one wall of the curved room a wide, raised platform held a curtained bed, the same shimmering fabric providing a screen of privacy around it. Pushing aside the wispy curtain she found a bed piled high with soft furs the colour of her hair, her fingers finding their texture enticing and exciting. Giving into her impulse she hitched up her skirts and crawled onto the bed, her fingers threading through the long hairs, revelling in their silky feel. She stretched up to the pillows that were scattered across the head, finding them made of the same fabric as the curtains, their surface cool and smooth under her questing fingers.
Sighing deeply Wendy flopped onto her back, the furs embracing her body and encasing her in comfort.
"Hmmmmmm." She hummed to herself, eyes closed, her hand lazily stroking the covers.
Peter entered the room quietly some minutes later, his eyes skating around the walls and coming to rest on the bed. They had explored almost all the tree house and now it was getting dusk outside, the sun sending orange streaks across the sky, the clouds turning pink and purple as he watched. They'd feasted on fruit when they got hungry, a room set out with a table and a dozen chairs, covered in a banquet of food, found not far from the landing platform, as they'd named it. After that they drank water from an old ships barrel that had been polished to a high gleam, the water inside cool and sweet, from goblets that Peter had said were from Hooks treasure, a trophy from some past battle.
Now he stood inside the door of Wendy's room, the old carpet bag clasped loosely in one hand, a sheaf of flowers in the other. Dropping the bag he padded over to the bed, pulling aside the curtain, his eyes drinking in Wendy's form as she dozed among the furs. Crawling on all fours, Peter made his way up the bed, careful not to disturb the sleeper, his lips pulling into a grin as a soft snore disturbed the peace. Wendy lay on her side, one hand tucked under her cheek, the other crooked at the elbow against her side, her finger tips brushing the covers. Peter leant over the side of the bed and placed the flowers on the floor, pulling one out before hitching himself onto his side so that he was facing her, his elbow supporting him. He dangled the bloom over Wendy's face, the bright colour reflecting onto her skin, painting it with pink highlights, before he stroked it down her cheek, the touch of the petals eliciting a small smile as they stopped at her lips. Her lashes parted and Peter found himself regarded by a pair of blue eyes that blinked sleepily at him.
"I was having such a lovely dream.....we were in Neverland and there was this marvellous tree-house, everything we wanted was in it and I found a wonderful room with the most deliciously comfortable bed in it."
Peter chuckled at her, the sound low and intimate.
"You don't have to dream it Wendy......its all around you."
He shook the flower at her, drawing her attention and was rewarded when Wendy cupped the bloom in one hand and pressed it to her nose, inhaling deeply.
"Hmmmmm this is wonderful......what is it called?"
"I don't know...its just a flower,"
"Oh you....well its a wonderful flower,"
She inhaled again, her eyes closing for a second before opening and meeting his in a long look. It was then she noticed that Peter was no longer wearing the long sleeved shirt. In fact he was wearing nothing at all above his waist except a thin chain with her thimble attached. A little shocked to see such an expanse of copper hued skin, Wendy shut her eyes with a snap, her hand coming up to cover her eyes. Peter frowned, reaching over to pull her hand away.
"What's the matter?"
"Um....Peter....where's your shirt gone?"
Flicking a glance down at himself, Peter shrugged, his mouth crooking up on one side.
"It got too hot.....and I don't need to wear anything here.....its Neverland."
"Oh...yes, well its just," Wendy swallowed, fighting hard not to let her eyes dwell on the breadth of chest practically begging her to touch it. "Peter...you have to realise....boys...er men in my world...they don't go around without clothes on."
Again Peter flicked his eyes down at himself, frowning slightly.
"But I didn't wear this much when you knew me before,"
Wendy felt herself slipping into dangerous waters, her lips suddenly so dry that she had to wet them with a nervous tongue.
"I know...and I agree with you, it is certainly warmer here than in London. In fact warmer than anywhere in England. Its just that...." She stopped, unable to put into words her tumultuous feelings or impose upon him the strictures of a world he barely understood. "Never mind," she finally muttered, "I'll get used to it....eventually."
Accepting her comments on face value, Peter grinned at her, his eyes running down her own apparel before returning to cock an inquiring eyebrow at her. Wendy found herself blushing under his gaze, turning herself onto her back to avoid his scrutiny.
"Aren't you awfully hot in all those clothes Wendy?"
"No."
He fingered the wrapper she still wore, tugging at the belt that kept it snug around her waist. Persistent tugging loosened the belt and he pulled it out with a swish, the force almost flipping Wendy onto her side again and making her gasp in surprise.
"Peter! What are you doing?"
"I don't believe you when you say you're not hot," he reached up a finger and drew it across her forehead. "Your sweating,"
Casting a fulminating glance at the offending evidence, Wendy wriggled her way to the side of the bed and made to get up. Undeterred Peter quickly rose and made a grab for the wrapper, snatching at the sleeve as she rose. It threw her off balance so that she swung around on one foot, her arm pulling out of the sleeve and the other quickly following so that the wrapper ended up pooled on the floor, Peter still holding onto the end of one sleeve. Wendy now stood in her nightshift, her arms coming up instinctively to cover her chest as she gaped at Peter who grinned, unabashed, up at her.
"Oh really....that was too bad of you Peter,"
"You've gotta admit....you're not so hot now Wendy."
Her mouth opening and closing in outrage, Wendy snatched at the wrapper only to be foiled when Peter whisked it out of reach, throwing it to his side of the bed. He nodded at her shift, one lean arm reaching out to twitch the skirt before Wendy had the presence of mind to jump back out of reach of the questing hand.
"Oh no you don't Peter Pan......it wouldn't be.....be...decent!" Her bosom heaving in embarrassment, Wendy turned her back on the bed, her arms crossed over her chest protectively. Peter frowned, perplexed at her behaviour, understanding only that there were rules that he obviously didn't comprehend regarding girls and clothes.
"Don't be upset Wendy, I didn't mean anything,"
Her back still turned to him, Wendy chewed on her lip, her thoughts chaotic and confused, her eyes cloudy with doubt.
Silently Peter rose from the bed and came to stand behind her, the heat from his skin searing her through the thin material of her nightdress. She felt an answering heat in herself and sucked in a breath to help calm her nerves, reminding herself that Peter simply didn't understand or follow the rules that governed how men and women behaved in polite society. Here in Neverland they were in his world, and, if it was to be believed, a world affected directly by his presence, new rules applied to everything she had been taught. She would need to adapt.
Peter placed a hand on her shoulder to turn her around and Wendy went willingly, her eyes downcast, her hair falling forward to hide her scarlet face.
"Don't be mad at me Wendy....I was only teasing,"
His apology acting like a balm, Wendy raised her head and looked up into the eyes that seemed infused with fairy dust and just as enchanting.
"I know you were Peter. I'm sorry I got angry, you have to be patient with me.....its a long time since I was here and I have to relearn all that I've forgotten about your world. Give me time."
"We both have alot to get used to. Tell me when I'm wrong, but don't turn you back on me, please. I can't bear to have you cross with me."
Smiling at his sincerity and childish simplicity, Wendy reached up on tip-toe to press her lips against his cheek in a small peck.
"I can't promise never to get cross with you...but I do promise to not turn my back on you again......or for the rest of today, atleast."
Pleased that everything appeared to be smoothed over, Peter grinned broadly, his movements lightening quick as he hooked one arm under her legs and the other around her body, picking her up before she had a chance to protest, a faint squeak passing her lips before she found herself clasped against his chest and swung around until the room spun giddily, her arms encircling his neck in response to his gyrations. Breathless and laughing, Wendy balled one fist and thumped at his shoulder, her eyes sparkling again.
"Put me down, you wretch...at once!"
"As you wish Wendy-lady."
Without warning she found herself dumped once more on the bed of furs, her hair fanning out as her head thumped into the cool pillows, the breath leaving her lungs in a rush. Slightly stunned, she watched as Peter followed her down, landing on his back beside her, smirking unashamedly.
"You are impossible Peter," Wendy gasped, laughter softening the words as she turned her head to regard his lean face.
"Yes....I am." Peter replied smugly before snaking one muscular arm about her middle and pulling her unceremoniously towards him as he turned onto his side so that her back lay against his front, his nose burying itself in her hair before she could do much more than squeak a protest. Feeling a little like a teddybear clasped too tightly by an overprotective child, Wendy pushed at Peter's arm but that only made it tighten further, clamping her in his embrace until she felt absorbed into his body.
"Peter?"
"Hmmmmm?"
"Don't you have your own bed to go to?"
"Is my bed," came the muffled response.
"Oh....um....I see," her cheeks blushing fiercely, Wendy again tried to push his arm down only to feel the muscles tense. Defeated, she relaxed into his embrace and immediately felt his arm loosen, allowing her to take a deep breath which she let out in a sigh.
"Don't I have a bed to go to?" She tried again.
"Is your bed," came the unequivocal response.
"Oh dear."
"Wendy?"
"Nothing Peter.....go to sleep,"
"'Night."
"Goodnight Peter Pan,"
Against her better judgement, Wendy felt sleep pulling at her eyelids, her lashes coming to rest against her cheeks as her breathing slowed and her body relaxed completely in sleep. His arm buried under the pillow that cradled her head, Peter lifted his head slightly to stare at her, his eyes once more drinking their fill of her features, marvelling that this creature that stirred him in such unexpected way, was lying beside him, trusting him to keep her safe through the night. He lifted his arm that had been clamped around her waist and raised it to brush long tendrils of hair away from her face, smoothing it down so that he could lay his face against it as it lay across his own pillow. That done he once more draped his arm across her middle, his legs curving into the crook of hers, her bottom coming to rest in the cradle of his hips so that they lay so perfectly matched not a pin could be put between them.
"Goodnight my Wendy," he breathed, leaning forward to place a small kiss at her temple before laying back on the pillow, his body already halfway to sleep, his lashes closing over eyes filled with stars.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter: Three - The Betrayal
Rating: PG for the fight scenes (maybe)
Old acquaintances are renewed, but not in a way that improves anyone's health.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wendy stirred, her lips parting on a sigh as she brushed something away from her face, the irritation making her want to sneeze. After a second it tickled again and her brow furrowed in annoyance as she once more batted it away. This time a muffled snicker made her eyes fly open and she found herself staring straight into eyes that swirled with mirth.
"Wake up sleepy-head, there's so much I want to show you."
Shutting her eyes on a small groan, Wendy turned onto her side, away from Peter, her shoulders hunching slightly.
"Come on Wendy....its a beautiful dawn, come see."
At the word dawn Wendy's eyes snapped open, her brain registering the faint light filtering through the floral bedecked vines that formed the walls of the hut.
"Dawn?"
"Come on..." Peter wheedled, crouching on the bed and straddling her body, bringing his face down to hers and whispering in her ear. "I want to show you what happens when the Morning Star sets."
"What happens?"
"Not gonna say....you have to come and see.......pleeeeeease,"
Giving into the urge to smile at his outrageous wheedling, Wendy turned onto her back, the sight of Peter's bronzed body poised over hers enough to take her breath away. His lithe limbs shadowed with muscles as he pushed into her personal space, his expression cajoling and enticing, his face wreathed in smiles at her capitulation.
Laughing, Wendy pushed at his chest and rolled him off her, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and getting to her feet, Peter remaining sprawled on the bed, watching her as she stretched.
Turning she regarded the irrepressible boy-man watching her so intently.
"Take yourself off somewhere Peter, I have to get dressed."
A flick of his eyes up and down her body made a blush creep up her neck but she refused to be drawn, placing her hands on her hips and glaring back at him. Sighing hugely, Peter rolled off the bed and padded to the door, casting her a look full of mock regret, ducking quickly to avoid the pillow chucked at his head. Shaking her head, Wendy turned to pick up the battered carpet bag, dumping its contents on the bed and surveying her meagre wardrobe.
"Something will have to be done about this," she sighed, picking up some of the items and turning over others.
Outside Peter lounged against the wall of the hut, his arms crossed over his bare chest, idly scratching at the lacing of the vest that he wore more to ameliorate Wendy's sense of propriety than his level of comfort, looking out across the forest canopy, the sky above him starting to streak into bands of colour, heralding the suns arrival. Behind him he heard Wendy moving around the hut, his ears painting a picture of clothes being shed and new ones donned. Within minutes Wendy appeared in the doorway, her slim figure encased in a softly draped, short sleeved dress that hugged her bosom before falling away to her ankles in loose folds which swayed as she moved towards him. The sleeves were mere puffs of fabric that capped her shoulders and ended well above her elbows. The fabric was a light blue and sprigged with tiny flowers, looking cool and comfortable to Peter's untutored eye. Wendy was casting quick glances at him, trying to gauge his reaction, while she twisted her long hair into a loose knot, securing it away from her face with a matching bandeau.
"Will I do Peter?"
"Um......yeah, fine......ready?" Peter stumbled over his words, his tongue feeling thick and uncooperative in the face of Wendy's slender arms and unmistakably feminine outline. He reached for her hand, receiving a smile in response, her cool fingers slipping into his broad palm, their slight trembling belying her cool exterior.
Leaning forward he whispered in her ear. "Trust me Wendy,"
Her blue eyes huge in her face, Wendy whispered back, "always Peter."
They flew slowly away from the treehouse, their course taking them over the tops of the trees and towards the now dormant volcano until they reached a plateau, high on the mountains flank that faced out to the sea, rocks and boulders scattered across its surface, some as big as a house. Peter touched them down near the edge and they looked across the glittering ocean to a bright star that sat just above the horizon. Above them a scatter of shooting stars chased the bright star to its rest, leaving trails of smoke as they burnt up in the atmosphere. Peter stood just behind Wendy, his arm appearing over her shoulder at intervals to point out items of interest as the star sank below the ocean, a bright spark appearing briefly as it disappeared from view. They saw a pod of whales slicing through the sea below them, their spouts appearing at regular intervals as they progressed past the island. Behind them the sun rose majestically, the clouds turning from purple to pink to orange to gold as light flooded Neverland and turned shadows to light.
"That was beautiful Peter....thank you for showing me the dawn."
"Next time....I'll get you up early enough to see the moon set...that's even better!"
"Oh Peter," Wendy laughed, punching his arm lightly before turning away from the ledge. Peter grabbed her hand and pulled her into the sky with him, their destination, the Pirate village.
Peter had explained about the downfall of the Jolly Roger's crew and their peaceful trading with the Indians. Wendy was secretly pleased that hostilities had, for the time being, become a thing of the past, her fears for Peter's safety not put to the test. They arrived at the collection of shacks as the sun touched the chimney of Mr.Smee's house, the clear sunbeams not helping to show the shacks in a favourable light. Each looked as though it might fall down at any moment but for all that, they possessed a charm that Wendy found endearing. They landed outside Smee's door, Peter adjusting his sword belt, his eyes flicking to the adjoining houses, relaxing when no sign of life greeted his scrutiny. In fact Wendy couldn't discern anything that indicated life of any sort and she waited beside Peter, unease dancing down her back as his knocking produced no response from its occupant. After several abortive attempts Wendy stilled Peters arm and they turned to survey the narrow street.
"I don't think there's anyone here Peter, not so much as a curtain has twitched since we arrived,"
"Maybe they are at the Indian trading ground," Peter suggested, scanning the small village and empty harbour. "All the boats are gone,"
A shiver chilled her and Wendy turned to take Peter's hand when a wild scream rent the air and set the hair on the back of her arms standing rigidly upright. Spinning around they saw an unkempt and dishevelled figure lurching drunkenly down the street towards them, his arm raised above his head, the cutlass in his hand whirling around as another blood curdling cry escaped the foam flecked lips. For a second both Peter and Wendy stood frozen in time, their eyes rounding and brains freezing as the pirate inexorably drew closer. Snapping out of his surprise Peter shoved Wendy behind him and drew his sword, his body tensing in preparation for battle. Wendy found herself thrown against Smee's front door, her back pressed against the salt-stained wood as Peter took several steps forward, bouncing on the balls of his feet, a feral grin lighting his features. In a flash Wendy realised that Peter truly came alive when his life was on the line and her heart sank slightly before her attention became focused on the man brandishing his cutlass like a scythe, sweeping it in front of him as if he were blind. Peter ducked from one of the wild swings, his blade clashing with the pirates, sparks flying off the blades. Wendy balled her fist against her mouth, her instinct to cry out stifled, to keep distractions at a minimum. Peter's tall frame dodged and weaved the more erratic swings, parrying them easily, playing with his opponent, Wendy quickly realised. By now the protagonists were further down the street and Wendy stepped from the relative safety of the doorway to follow them, the pirates back to her, his cutlass slashing the air in a frenzy. A near miss that appeared to almost separate Peter's head from his shoulders made her cry out in fear, her voice sounding clear above the clash of blades. As if struck by lightening the pirate jerked, his body contorting violently as if pulled by string. His head turned first, followed by his wildly gyrating body so that he now faced in Wendy's direction, his blood-shot eyes zeroing in on her, Peter apparently forgotten. With a strangled cry the pirate started to advance on her, his hands coming together to grip the cutlass two-handed before sweeping it before him in a series of body-slicing moves that made Wendy blanch. Behind him, Peter yelled to regain his attention, but the pirate ignored him, the man's gate breaking into a trot as Wendy started to back away, her eyes going to Peter's over the man's ragged shoulder.
Wendy turned and fled, her feet tangling in her skirts, bringing her down to fall heavily in the dusty street, the breath knocked from her body as she lay helpless almost at the feet of the enraged pirate. With an enraged cry Peter flew over the mans head, coming to stand over Wendy's prostrate body and blocking the full force of the pirates downward sweep, the blow forcing him to his knees. With an insane shriek the pirate raised his arm for the final blow which never landed as Peter pulled his dagger from his belt and plunged it into the man's chest to the hilt. For a second the tableau remained frozen in place, the pirate with his arm upraised, Peter with his arm extended and Wendy cringing between Peter's legs in the dust, then everything became fluid. Peter's knife slipped out of the pirates chest, the man falling backward to land with a thud on the cobbles, his eyes already turning milky in the bright sunshine as blood pooled and spread from his wound to the dirt below.
Breathing heavily Peter straightened up, his hands by his side, one with a sword the other with a knife. Looking down he wiped the knife-blade on the leg of his trousers before sheathing it at his belt and returning the sword to its scabbard. He stepped away from Wendy and went to inspect the man, nudging him with his foot to check for life but the wide staring eyes belied the effort, life having fled its bonds long since. A sob brought his attention back to Wendy and he quickly knelt beside her, raising her up and pulling her into a fierce embrace, the shock rendering her unable to do more than cling and cry in the aftermath of the brief but terrifying battle.
"Shhhh he's dead," Peter soothed, his eyes never leaving their vigil, scanning the narrow road in both direction while his arms held Wendy tight to his chest.
"I'm sorry Peter....I was no help at all....I'm useless,"
Wiping her eyes furiously, Wendy backed out of his embrace, angry at herself for placing Peter in unnecessary danger by her ineptitude.
"I can't even run away properly," she raged, her hands shaking her skirts in frustration. Peter waited for her to calm down before moving in and taking her shoulders in his firm hands, shaking her slightly to get her attention, her eyes flying to his in surprise.
"There was nothing you could have done....you didn't have a weapon and this was completely unexpected. Alindra said there hasn't been any instances of violence on the island since Hook died. This is beyond unusual, this is unheard of."
A noise brought them both back to the present, their heads snapping around to stare down the street towards the harbour. Another sound came from directly behind them and Peter turned to face it, placing Wendy behind him again. A tug on his vest drew his eyes to her for a second before he turned back to survey the street.
"Let's get out of here Peter..there may be more of them," she whispered, another sound, suspiciously like the cocking of a musket, confirming their suspicions. Nodding, Peter grasped her hand and leap into the air, his body taught, his eyes sweeping the roof tops. Wendy clung to his hand, their fingers interlocked, her thoughts disordered and chaotic, gasping when she saw the crowd of pirates swarming over the patch of ground they had occupied only seconds before. Peter saw them as well, changing the direction of their flight so suddenly that Wendy almost lost her grip, the whistle of a musket ball almost grazing her face as they veered away, gathering speed, leaving the pirate shacks far behind them. Around the headland Peter set them down on a wide sweep of beach, his hand quickly turning Wendy around, to her bemusement, checking her for injuries.
"Did it hit you?" he asked, his voice hoarse with worry.
Wendy could only mutely shake her head, reaction setting in from their near miss with disaster. Peter eyed her white face with concern, pulling her into his arms, his heart against her cheek beating as rapidly as her own.
Feeling a little calmer, Wendy broke the embrace and walked to the edge of the water, pressing her palms to her face to still their trembling. She wondered idly what had happened to the girl who had thrived on adventure and thought nothing of fighting a pirate with a sword in her hand and a laugh on her lips. That girl seemed a million miles away right now and Wendy felt like a fraud. On reaching the water she paddled her bare feet in the cool sea, lifting her skirts to keep them dry. Behind her Peter crouched on his haunches, his face screwed up in thought, his dagger drawing pictures in the sand. A splash drew his attention to the sea in time to see a mermaid rear up out of the water and lunge at Wendy, knocking her to the sand. With a roar Peter ran towards her, his feet kicking up spurts of grit but the mermaid was quicker. Before Wendy had a chance to roll to her knees the mermaid had grabbed a leg in both hands and started to drag her into the water, another head surfacing beside the first, long webbed hands reaching out to help drag Wendy out to sea.
Peter reached them just as Wendy managed to roll onto her back, her feet kicking at the preternaturally strong hands that tugged and pulled at her legs. The waves were almost breaking over her, soaking her and loosening her grip on the hard sand, the undertow aiding the mermaids in their death grip. Peter launched himself at the second mermaid, back-handing her across the face, his own snarling at the creature in its own language. Alarmed at his size and ferocity the creature let go and dived away, allowing Peter to face the remaining mermaid that seemed oblivious of his presence, her goal in sight as Wendy foundered in the shallow water, her mouth filling with water.
Drawing back his knife, Peter slashed at the arms holding Wendy's leg and a shriek rent the air as the injured mermaid released the limb and turned to defend itself. A wave almost knocked Peter over as the remaining mermaid bared her fangs and lunged for him, her muscular tail thrashing the water behind her into a froth. At the last second he dodged to the side and the mermaid slid past him into the next wave, her tail catching him with a blow that pushed him under the water and held him, for a second, against the seabed below. He bobbed to the surface, spitting grit and shaking the water from his head, to see the mermaid and her partner several feet from him, their seaweed hair floating around them as their anemone eyes regarded him balefully. The sound of coughing drew him back to the shore where Wendy was crawling out of the low surf on hands and knees, her head bent as she coughed up the remaining sea-water in her lungs. Coming up behind her, Peter hooked his hands under her armpits and hauled her upright, her hair swinging wetly down her back like long strands of kelp, her head falling back limply as he scooped her into his arms and carried her up the beach, laying her down on the grass bank above the high tide line. Where before she had been pale, Peter saw that Wendy's skin was now colourless, her lips having a bluish tinge and her body starting to shiver in reaction to the sudden dunking. Fear gripped him and he looked wildly around for anything to help him, his eyes flicking to Wendy's still face between scans of the beach and sky. To his relief the mermaids had disappeared out of sight, and a faint sound caught his ear, turning his head towards the forest that bordered the beach. A bright light was flitting between the trunks, getting closer with each flutter.
"Help......please help."
After only a seconds hesitation the light drew closer and Peter saw it was the friend of his childhood, TinkerBell.
"Am I glad to see you Tink, you have to help me,"
The tiny fairy buzzed around Peter's head, then down to peer into Wendy's lax features, her wings beating rapidly before she landed beside the prone girl. Peter listened for a second before interrupting her.
"I don't have time to explain Tink, I have to get her to somewhere safe. We've been attacked twice this morning, once by pirates and now by the mermaids. What's happening here?"
TinkerBell rattled off a long speech that Peter listened to with half an ear, his attention split between the unconscious girl at his feet and the area around them, his senses still alert to danger. Tink tugged at his wet hair to get his attention back to her before rattling off another long speech, her wings beating furiously. Peter nodded without answering, his arms reaching down to gather Wendy into his embrace again, holding her close to his chest and risking a quick glance into her pale face before a last check of the beach. Satisfied that their way was clear, he launched himself once more into the air and followed Tinkerbells' bright light as she threaded a pathway deeper into the forest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wendy groaned as she slowly regained consciousness, her body racked with aches, her throat tight and raw. A babble of voices told her she wasn't alone but she couldn't make out what they were saying, the sound muffled and low. She coughed suddenly, the spasm causing another groan as her sore lungs tried to expel more fluid and caused her to roll onto her side in agony. She remained oblivious to the bustle of activity around her, her eyes remaining glued shut, her hands flailing as cool fingers tried to hold her head for a cup to be placed at her lips.
"Don't fight it Wendy, it'll help you sleep," a familiar voice urged her, her mind screaming at her to open her eyes but her body refusing to co-operate, sending her back down into the warm, black nothing.
The blunt face of the medicine woman grimaced slightly as she laid a hand against Wendy's forehead. Peter watched anxiously as the woman squeezed out a cloth and lay if against Wendy's face, sponging the burning skin before dropping it back into the basin.
"Will she be alright?"
"She has the fever. If it breaks tonight, she'll live. If not," the woman shrugged, her dark eyes sympathetic. Peter hung his head, his expression tortured. Taking pity on him, the medicine woman rose from beside the pallet and took a hold of his arm, her bulk hiding a surprising strength as Peter found himself hauled to his feet and marched out of the tepee, his protests falling on deaf ears as the women shooed him away before returning immediately to re-enter the tent, closing the flap behind her.
Standing outside, Peter stared at the tepee, his mind a blank. A cool hand laid itself against his cheek and he flinched, the hand withdrawing as his eyes encountered the velvet brown depth's of Princess Tiger Lily's hurt gaze.
"You are tired Peter Pan. It is time to rest, come with me."
"I'm sorry Lily, I don't want to leave...she....Wendy might wake and ask for me,"
He missed the speculative look that crossed his companions face, her hands coming once more to grasp his arm and pull him towards her.
"If she calls then Crying-Gull will send someone to tell you. You must eat and rest Peter Pan, or you will be of use to no-one."
"You're right Lily....but..."
"No buts......eat, rest, then you can watch over your Wendy for as long as you like."
With a last look at the medicine woman's tent, Peter allowed himself to be dragged away, his heart heavy. Tiger Lily smiled to herself, careful to keep her face averted as she steered Peter towards her own tepee, a fire all ready to warm him, furs scattered to comfort him, her own company to occupy him. After settling Peter beside the fire, Tiger Lily entered her tent and gathered the meal she'd prepared onto a tray, carrying it out carefully and placing it beside the handsome young man currently lounging in full view of the camp beside her fire. As gracefully as possible she passed the dishes over to Peter, his manner one of preoccupation as he shovelled the food into his mouth, completely unaware of what he was eating or who he was with. She followed his line of sight and mentally stamped her foot. He had positioned himself so that the tepee, containing the Wendy woman, remained in his direct view. He could still see anyone who entered or left. Her lips thinning in annoyance, Tiger Lily flipped her long braids back over her shoulders and moved around the fire, effectively blocking Peter's view and focusing his attention back on to her.
Belatedly realising that he was ignoring his hostess, Peter sat up, his appetite sated, and regarded the Indian Princess across the flames.
"You are as beautiful as ever Princess. Has the chief not found you a brave warrior to marry yet?"
"My father believes in letting me choose my husband Peter. So far I haven't found a brave worthy of my hand."
"Has no-one claimed a right to eat at your fire?"
"Only one........but he has thoughts for another,"
Tiger Lily lifted her cup, sipping at it, her lashes hiding her gaze as she watched Peter Pan digest her comments.
"Then he doesn't deserve you Lily. You always had more spirit than all the braves put together, its what I always liked about you,"
"Is that all you liked Peter Pan? As you see, I have grown too and no longer play childish games. Why did you return with this Wendy woman, it appears to have brought only trouble to your home."
Surprised and taken aback by the vehemence in the Princess' voice, Peter looked down at his cup, swirling the contents as he considered his answer. He suspected that Lily had ambitions of her own where he was concerned, but he had never encouraged them. His association with the Indians was one of mock battles and frequent trades, his friendship with the Chief and his daughter of paramount importance as a strategic alliance, not a romantic one. Tilting his head back he downed the last of the faintly aromatic brew and lifted his gaze to stare at the Princess across the leaping flames.
"Wendy didn't bring the trouble Lily, it was here before we arrived, but no-one saw fit to tell me about it. Alindra said there had been no violent incidents since I left. Is that true?"
"I suppose what she said was true.....up to a point. You have to understand Peter, you slept for so long, things changed while you were away."
"I know that Tiger Lily. What I want to know is why the pirates are trying to kill me and the mermaids trying to drown Wendy?"
"Don't concern yourself about that Peter....its will all be explained soon,"
Peter stared incredulously at Tiger Lily, his mouth almost dropping open in surprise at her deliberate avoidance of the truth. He stared into the flames of the fire, a suspicion starting to gnaw at him.
"It wasn't me they wanted to kill....was it Lily?"
"It's so silly Peter...don't worry yourself, it will all become clear when you have rested."
Peter made to rise and found that his legs simply wouldn't support him, buckling under him like wet grass. Looking up he saw that the Princess had risen to her feet, her eyes staring at him across the fire, her expression one of satisfaction. With a snarl he tried to rise again, his hand going to his dagger but his vision started to blur, the flames leaping and swaying, the heat causing a sweat to bead his forehead. He felt a cool hand on his cheek and raised his eyes to stare into the exotic beauty crouching over him.
"Don't fight it Peter....you'll feel so much better when you have rested."
With a huge effort Peter managed to draw his dagger from its sheath but a blow from the Princess sent it skittering away as Peter fell back onto the furs, his head hitting the ground with a thud. His last thought was of betrayal quickly overlaid by a wish that Wendy would forgive him for not protecting her better before his eyes shut and the dark rushed in to claim him.
Tiger Lily ran a finger down Peter's face, the tips rasping over his cheeks as they encountered the faint stubble there. After looking her fill she gestured to the braves lurking in the shadows.
"Hide him in my tent, I want no trace of Peter Pan anywhere in the camp when He arrives. He may have the woman but he won't have Peter Pan."
Standing aside, she watched as the braves hefted Peter between them, carrying his body to the tent and placing him inside before returning and clearing the site beside the fire. With a final sweep of the ground, Tiger Lily brushed her tunic down and adjusted her braids before signalling for the braves to accompany her to the large tepee at the centre of the camp where her father and the elders of the tribe awaited her.
From the bushes beside the camp a faint light appeared as TinkerBell cautiously approached the tepee. Peter had been right to tell her to stay hidden. Now she flew to the top of the conical tent and dropped inside through the smoke flap, keeping her light as low as possible. On the floor she found Peter laid out, his chest rising and falling, but no amount of pinching or tugging roused him from his drugged sleep. Frustrated and confused TinkerBell flew up and away from the Indian camp, her wings carrying her towards the fairy glen and the hope that Alindra would know what to do.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: All Because of a Thimble
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: Four - The Ghost
A reunion, a recovery and a rescue. Not necessarily in that order.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Are you sure she's going to live?"
"Live yes......survive.....that's up to you."
Wendy lay comfortably adrift in a world between dreaming and awake. She could hear people speaking and moving around her but she didn't have the strength to do more than listen. Every now and then she drifted into a state of limbo where everything was hot and wet and strangled, her tired mind conjuring up images of red skies and black sails and grey, piercing eyes. Then she would be transported to a world of falling snow that sent shivers along her aching limbs, her tongue tasting cool water before being plunged back into heat again. For the most part Wendy ignored the changes in temperature, her dreaming self happy to fly above the clouds of discomfort and pain, her mind free to explore the stars and planets while her body lay racked and feverish back on the earth. During one of her more lucid moments she felt herself lifted and carried out into a world of bright sunlight and blurry figures, her bed swaying and dipping as if carried by oddly matched wheels that jolted her and made her giddy. Another interval found her plunged into a velvet blackness that smelled like the sea and sounded like the creak of a ship but she didn't try to open her eyes after the first peep, there was no point, she couldn't see and the strain was simply too much for her eyelids to accomplish.
At long last she was able to open her eyes and see everything as it should be, although what she did see made her think she was still dreaming.
She assumed she was lying on a bed, but she didn't trust her senses at first because the bed appeared to sway, the movement not unpleasant, just unsettling. Licking dry lips, Wendy turned her head and tried to focus on other items in the room, her eyes squinting in the dim light of the single lantern fixed to the wall. She blinked slowly, taking in the wine coloured drapes that curtained the alcove that housed her. They were ornately embroidered and sported gold fringing on every edge. She then let her gaze drift to the far wall, noting the crossed swords hung for decoration and the small mirror set on a tiny shelf fixed beside them. Lower down several pieces of furniture drew her attention, a chair that looked very comfortable with its plush red upholstery, its high back and thickly padded arms, all contained within a highly decorated wooden frame. There was also a leather bound chest and a small, three drawer bureau. Still bemused, and not a little alarmed, Wendy let her gaze drift to the mullioned window at the far end of the narrow room, her view outside distorted by the bottle-bottom glass panes. All she could really tell was that it was very grey outside. Having inspected her surroundings, and being none the wiser for doing so, Wendy next took an inventory of herself, lifting her hands and finding her arms encased in a white linen shirt with a froth of lace at the cuff, not at all what she was expecting. Totally confused and determined to sort out the mystery of her surroundings, Wendy made an effort to get up, rolling onto her side and swinging her legs over the wooden edge of the bed. That small action causing her to pant heavily as if she'd been wearing her corset too tight, for too long. She put out a hand and grasped the edge of the velvet curtain, the fringing spilling through her fingers like hair, before lifting her head and gulping in lung-full of air to dispel her dizziness. Feeling a little steadier she tentatively placed one foot on the floor. It was then she realised, with a shock, that the nightshirt she wore only reached as far as her knees, the opening at the neck displaying an inordinate amount of cleavage. With shaking fingers she laced the front, restoring her modesty, but no amount of tugging would increase the length so she gave up. Still feeing as weak as a day old kitten, Wendy placed her feet squarely on the wooden floor and pulled herself to her feet. Swaying only slightly, Wendy took a step towards the small door that faced the end of the bed, her lips tightly compressed as she concentrated on not falling down. After three steps she felt exhausted and almost gave up, the lure of the bed almost irresistible, but determination won out and she completed the remaining distance, her hands reaching out to support her as she slumped against the door frame and panted.
With her back to the wall she surveyed the room. Being closer to the window now she peered through the thick glass, the sound of waves lapping against a hull quite clear to her muddled ears. A seagull cry helped settle the matter, she was on a ship. Carefully she walked to the window and used her sleeve to clean the filmy glass. Her efforts to look outside didn't improve very much, showing her only grey water and black cliffs within her narrow field of vision. Frustrated, Wendy turned her back on the window and focused once more on the door. Her legs felt a bit stronger so the few steps back to the door were accomplished without mishap, her hand reaching for the door handle.
Several attempt at opening the door produced the same result, she was locked in. Tears of frustration started to her eyes and she dashed them away, angry at feeling so weak. The door told her something......she wasn't among friends. Making her way back to the bed she sat on the edge and contemplated what she knew.
Her last recollection was of being dragged under the waves by the mermaids, her hands clutching at the gritty sand before her mouth filled with briny water, choking her. After that her memories became jumbled and confused, a result, she conjectured, of a fever or some other injury. Now she was in a cabin, on a ship, somewhere along the shores of Neverland. As far as she was aware, the only ship that had ever sailed Neverland waters was the Jolly Roger which lay scuttled at the bottom of Pirates lagoon. Looking down at her legs, she half expected to see the bruises left by the powerful webbed fingers of the mermaids, instead unblemished skin met her inspection. Standing up again, Wendy made her wobbly way to the tiny mirror on the wall. Peering into it she stared at her reflection, noting the dark circles under her eyes and the gaunt hollows of her cheeks. Put that together with her sadly neglected hair and she deduced that several days, if not weeks had passed since the incidence with the mermaids. If that was true, then where was Peter?
Feeling tired beyond belief, Wendy made her way back to the bed, her bare toes kicking a bucket that sat half hidden under the bed. Climbing into the bed she rubbed her toe distractedly, her mind trying to put all the puzzle pieces together but it proved too much and she fell asleep still trying to figure it all out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Princess Tiger Lily watched as the medicine woman poured another spoonful of the dreaming potion into Peter Pan's unresisting mouth. It had been more days than the Princess had fingers on her hands since Peter had arrived at the Indian settlement with Wendy cradled in his arms. Runner's had been sent immediately to inform Him that the woman was in the Indian's camp, Tiger Lily was careful to make sure the runners said nothing of Peter Pan's presence. They had returned and informed the Council of Elders that He would be arriving within two days and to have the woman called Wendy ready when He arrived. No-one disputed the orders and certainly no-one suggested an alternative other than to comply and hand over the woman. Unspoken was the hope that she wouldn't die before He arrived and put them all at risk. To that end the medicine woman worked tirelessly to keep the girl alive long enough for Him to arrive and take her away.
And arrive He did, at the time He'd specified. His fearsome assortment of retainers enough to quell any protest at his taking the Wendy woman, despite the mutterings heard among some of the braves. Tiger Lily curled her lip in disgust at their cowardice, despite being heartily glad to see the back of the pale-faced woman. The whole tribe had watched as Wendy was carried out on a stretcher and placed on the shoulders of four of the burly men, their scarred and tattooed faces set into permanent snarls as they marched past the silent onlookers.
When the whole contingent had passed through the camp and out of sight, only then did she slip away to her tent and enter its cool interior, her eyes quickly adjusting and focusing on the figure laying on the pallet of furs against the far wall. Reaching out she cautiously touched the gold-tipped curls that ran riot over his head, her eyes running over his face and form like an eagle eyeing up a rabbit. Her father heartily disapproved of her demand to keep Peter Pan as her reward for saving the tribe, but he had acquiesced when it became clear the choice was between his peoples lives or Peter Pan's. Now she had him all to herself, the potion keeping him in a state between sleeping and waking, his body able to perform its usual functions, even able to eat and walk and dress himself, but his eyes showed that his mind was firmly locked away in a place that few had ever escaped from. If Tiger Lily was disappointed that her new companion was not a conversationalist, she never mentioned it, happy to sit opposite him and chatter while he stared vacantly into nothing, his body alive but his mind fettered in chains.
After the medicine woman left the tent, Tiger Lily stood up and held out her hand.
"Come walk with me Peter,"
Like a sleepwalker, Peter rose gracefully to his feet, his eyes still blank, his limbs lax. Taking his limp hand in her own, Tiger Lily lead the unprotesting young man out of her tent, his eyes not even squinting in the strong sunlight after the dim tent. A short walk brought them to the river that provided water for the encampment. Dropping his hand, Tiger Lily walked into the stream, her braids swinging forward as she bent down to scoop water into her hands. Twisting around she flung the water at Peter, the droplets landing on his face and chest, making rivulets in the paint and grime marking his skin.
"Is that cold enough for you Peter....wouldn't you like to have a swim?"
Not expecting to receive an answer, Tiger Lily lifted the hem of her dress and waded in further, laughing as the water swirled around her knees, chilling her skin.
Behind her Peter stood where she'd left him, his face expressionless, his body relaxed. Wading back to shore Tiger Lily reached for Peter's hands once more and pulled him forward so that he reached the water's edge, tiny waves lapping his shoes.
"Come on Peter....it feels wonderful...and you certainly need to take a bath,"
Tugging, Tiger Lily pulled Peter into the water until it reached his knees, soaking his soft moccasins and deer-skin leggings. Unnoticed by his captor, Peter's eyes blinked once....then twice, the cold water breaking through the drug-induced dream that smothered his mind. He blinked again as Tiger Lily, unaware of his awakening, tugged him further into the stream until it reached the top of his thighs. She continued to splash and spray him, her laughter swallowed by the rushing of water around the many boulders lining the bank. With her back to him, Tiger Lily didn't see Peter raise his hand and pass it over his eyes as if trying to rub away a curtain obscuring his vision. As he stood in the icy water, he brought up his other hand and held it in front of his face, inspecting both as if seeing them for the first time. Tiger Lily finally turned around and saw Peter with his hands near his face, his brow furrowed at he tried to shake off the last of the potion that clouded his perception.
Realising her mistake in bringing him to the river, she tried to reach him, stumbling over a hidden rock and falling into the water, her clothes and hair now soaked. Peter heard the splash and looked up, the sound triggering a memory of another girl in trouble, also in water. Looking down he saw his reflection in the swirling waters, his face overlaid by that of a young woman with ocean blue eyes and autumn streaked hair that he knew smelled of flowers.
"Wendy?"
His voice came out as a rough croak, as if unused for a long time. Tiger Lily finally reached him, her hands grabbing at his arm, cold water showering off her and stinging his skin.
"Peter....we have to go back to the camp," she gasped.
"Camp?" Peter's eyes regarded the Princess as if seeing her for the first time. "Why am I here? Where's Wendy?"
Seeing her chance slipping away, Tiger Lily pulled back her hand and slapped him hard, his head snapping sideways, the imprint of her fingers showing like a brand against his painted cheek.
"You are coming back to the camp with me now!"
Ignoring the enraged girl, Peter touched his inflamed cheek with his finger tips, his jaw working to alleviate the stinging sensation.
"No."
Already on her way out of the water, Tiger Lily stopped and swung around, her wet braids slapping her back, her mouth dropping open.
"What do you mean no? I order you to."
"No." Peter replied more forcefully. "I don't know what's been happening," Peter's words fell slowly but surely from his lips, gathering strength, "but whatever you've done, I'll find out...then it will be me who orders you.....Princess."
A gasp left Tiger Lily's lips as she saw the anger flare in Peter's eyes, his pupils like chips of ice as they pinned her where she stood. Her dreams shattered, Tiger Lily bared her teeth at him and twisted away, her wet moccasins slipping on the stones as she scrabbled to climb the bank.
"You'll never find her, Peter Pan," she shouted over her shoulder, her breath coming in harsh sobs, "you're pale faced Wendy woman is lost to you....forever!"
Peter remained standing in the water, his eyes following the Indian Princess until she disappeared into the trees. Shaking his head he swayed a little, the water eddying around his legs as he made his way back to the bank, those same legs folding under him as he gave in to the overwhelming dizziness that made the trees sway alarmingly and spots appear in his vision. Hanging his head between his knees, Peter waited for the sensation to stop before attempting to remember what had been his last memory of Wendy.
Lifting his head he stared at the stream, the sun sparkling on the water almost blinding him as he racked his brain for a clue to Wendy's fate. After several moments he gave a faint groan as his mind refused to provide the information he sought. His last memory of Wendy was carrying her limp body to the Indian encampment and handing her over to the medicine woman.
"I can't remember," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and bringing up Wendy's image in his minds eye, her eyes bluer than the clearest sky, her smile a balm to his tortured thoughts. Moments later he discovered that his ability to fly appeared to be a victim of the lingering after-effects of the dream potion, his attempts to fly laughable in their complete failure to lift him even inches from the river bank.
Clambering unsteadily to his feet after his last attempt, Peter looked briefly towards the trees that hid the Indian camp, spirals of smoke just visible above the branches. It was a safe bet that Tiger Lily would soon bring reinforcement to recapture him, so, in view of his inability to fly, the river was his best chance of escape. Once more he waded into the cold water, his legs carrying him towards the swiftly flowing centre. With a dive worthy of a mermaid, Peter dove straight to the heart of the stream, the current catching him in its grip, tumbling his lithe body like so much flotsam and sweeping him swiftly away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I believe you have slept long enough, Wendy Darling. 'Tis time to open those baby-blues and convince me that you're worth all the trouble I've gone through to acquire you."
Unable to believe her ears, Wendy lay unmoving, her eyes still shut, her heart hammering, the voice of a ghost ringing through her head.
"Oh come, Miss Darling, its patently obvious you are wake. Surely you don't intend to make me prove my point?"
Moving her head slowly, Wendy turned to face the room and find out if her memory was playing her false. She lifted a shaking hand and pushed her tangled hair out of the way, blinking to sharpen her focus, her lips pressing together to suppress the gasp of shock that screamed to be released.
"You're dead," she whispered, her tone accusing.
"An unsubstantiated rumour my dear, nothing more or less. As you can see, I am quite alive, not a ghost."
A faint pounding started behind Wendy's eyes and she frowned, her hand coming up to rub the spot above her eyes.
"A headache.....tut tut, how unfortunate. Drink this my dear. It will help ease the ache."
Her eyes semi-closed, Wendy felt a cool glass pressed into her hand, the bearer enclosing her fingers in his and lifting the glass to her nerveless lips, the rings on his fingers cold against her skin.
"Drink Wendy, 'tis not poisoned."
Cautiously she sipped, the sickly sweet potion slipping down her throat like silk. After a second she pushed the glass away and the hand holding it steady didn't prevent her.
The pain in her head starting to ease, Wendy took her first cautious look at the man standing solicitously in front of her. Her gaze centred first on the elaborate coat of bronze silk that seemed covered in black frogging, its long sleeves ending in wide cuffs of an age gone by, one of the cuffs sporting a wickedly curved silver hook in place of a hand. Travelling upwards, she saw a froth of lace at the coats collar before she looked up and into the face of Peter's arch enemy and hers.
"Hook," his name dropped from her lips on a whisper, her eyes widening as they encountered the well remembered piercing grey-blue gaze that had almost been her downfall so many years before. "Why aren't you dead?"
"My...my...the kitten has claws. I would thank you to keep those claw's sheathed my dear, you're hardly in a good position to indulge the luxury of making me angry. Your life is entirely in my hands."
"My life is not yours to toy with, you have no hold over me."
"Ah well, I wouldn't be too sure. I know more about you than you realise. But come....this can be discussed over dinner. I have laid out some clothes for you to change into, I'll expect you to be ready within the hour. Don't keep me waiting."
Her nails digging into the wooden edge of the bed, Wendy drew in a breath on a hiss, her eyes flashing.
"I choose to take my meals in this cabin. Nothing on Gods green earth would make me break bread with you."
"Such passion. But you forget, you are in Neverland, not London, and what I say rules here. I expect you within the hour Wendy Darling, or I will send some of my crew to help you prepare. I'm sure they would be more than happy to see what you look like standing on your dignity."
With a flick of his finger against her cheek, Captain James Hook took two steps away before turning and giving Wendy a courtly bow, his eyes never leaving her face. "Until we meet again,"
Seething, Wendy could only watch as Hook left the room, his heels tapping across the wooden floor, the door closing behind him with an audible click of the latch.
Closing her eyes, Wendy let some of the tension wash out of her, her mind bringing up Peter's image, his eyes full of mischief and something she could only hope for, her own feelings an open book.
"Where are you?" she asked the air, her hands coming up to cover her face as the full import of her situation crashed in on her. Drawing in a shuddering breath she used her hands to push her tangled hair back before turning to see what Hook thought was appropriate garments for dinner with a pirate captain. At the end of the bed lay a dress and several other, more intimate, pieces of apparel, but, to her never ending relief, no boned corset.
Pulling the dress towards her, she had to reluctantly admire the Captains taste in ladies wear. The fabric under her fingers was the finest heavy satin in a rich blue that shimmered in the faint light. The bodice was heavily beaded and be-ribboned, the sleeves ending at the elbow in a frill of expensive French lace, the same pattern trimming the edge of the scooped neckline. The skirt was split at the front to display a false petticoat of figured silver tissue. Throwing the dress down, Wendy reached for the under-garments, her lips twitching ruefully as her fingers encountered fine linen and silk. She briefly wondered who the garments had originally belonged to, whether she had been a former guest or captive of the hated man. Pushing such thoughts aside she sat for a long moment, her eyes staring at the clothes without seeing them, her eyes shining with tears as an awful thought crossed her mind. What if Peter Pan was dead ? Her eyes bleak, Wendy started to rock, the silk in her hand bundled into a knot and pressed to her mouth to stop a scream ripping from her throat. Dragging in a much needed breath through her nose, she chastised herself for even thinking such a thing. She would know if Peter no longer breathed the same air as her, she would know....wouldn't she?
Squaring her shoulders, Wendy pressed her lips together and gathered her courage around her like a cloak. With an economy of movement she stripped off the nightshirt and donned the camisole and petticoats, the silk smooth against her skin. The dress followed, slipping over her head and sitting snugly against her curves, the back open, the laces needing someone else to tie them. On the shelf above the bed she found a pig-bristle brush that proved more than a match for the tangled bird nest that crowned her head. After a vigorous brushing it hung down her back, if not at its shining best, at least in a knot-free cascade. She found shoes tucked just under the bed but they proved too small and she left them. By her reckoning it was fast approaching the allotted hour and fear started to knot her insides and make her heart hammer as she stood waiting in the centre of the room for her jailer to return.
The door swung inwards and she stepped back as a huge man ducked into the room, his head swinging first towards the bed, then back to survey her, his boot-black eyes glinting.
"The Capt'n waiting," the mountain said, his tone respectful.
Her hands clasped before her, Wendy stepped through the door, then waited for her guide to show her where to go. This he did, his massive arm lifting to point at a door opposite her own.
"In there."
Nodding, her lips pressed together to still their trembling, Wendy pushed on the door and it swung inwards, the man behind her placing a meaty hand on her shoulder and propelling her forward with a rush. Stumbling, she stopped after a few steps and righted herself, her hair swinging forward to cover her shoulders. Behind her, the door shut with a click and Wendy found herself almost wishing the giant had followed her in.
"I knew that colour would suit you. It was designed for a Duke's daughter, part of her wedding trousseau."
"Did she ever get to wear it?"
"Hardly pertinent, but I'll indulge you.....no, she didn't. "
Wendy watched as Hook rose from the ornate chair set at the head of the table and walked towards her. Once more he made her an elaborate court bow, his eyes drinking in her slender curves, his hand coming to clasp her own and pull her towards the table and a chair situated to the left of his own.
As Wendy moved to sit down he suddenly gripped her elbow and stopped her, turning her so that her back was to him. Frozen, Wendy waited for his next move. To her surprise, Hook lifted the fall of hair away from her back and flipped it over her shoulder, baring the unlaced, open back of the dress, her silk shift filling the gap.
"Allow me,"
Unable to move, Wendy sucked in a breath and held it as Hook expertly laced the back of the dress, his fingers and hook moving surely and quickly.
"There....can't leave a job half done now, can we?"
Completely unnerved by his ministration, Wendy jerked when Hook lifted her hair to fall in a curtain down her back again, his hook scratching a thin line across her shoulder that instantly beaded with blood.
"Now see......you've marred the perfection of those shoulders. Silly chit...you have nothing to fear from me."
Backing away, her teeth gritted against the sting of pain in her shoulder blade, Wendy glanced around the room, looking for an escape. Ignoring her, Hook returned to his chair and sat down, his feet coming up to rest on the edge of the table, heels crossed.
"There's no way out, except through that door, so why don't you stop fretting and sit down. I'm sure there's something on this table to tempt you."
Her eyes drawn reluctantly to her host, Wendy sat down, her dress rustling crisply.
"I'm not hungry."
"Oh I'm sure you are....there's hardly any meat on them bones." Hook waved towards the laden table, his hook spearing a chicken leg and carrying it to his mouth.
Against her better judgement, Wendy's mouth began to water and she felt a hollow ache somewhere in her middle. Slowly she reached for a wedge of bread from a plate set between them, her eyes never leaving the figure contentedly munching his way through a chicken carcass.
Bringing the bread to her plate she broke of a morsel and placed it in her mouth, her tongue savouring the first solid food, she suspected, in days.
"My chef will be pleased. He laboured for days to prepare this for you, it would have been a shame to send it all back untouched."
"Why should I care whether your chef is happy or not?"
"Because if I have to send anything back untouched he will forfeit his life."
Choking, Wendy grasped the edge of the table, her eyes wide.
"You monster !"
"Just one plate....and.." he drew the tip of his hook across the air in front of his throat.
Turning back to the table Wendy surveyed the dishes and swallowed hard.
"Will a spoonful of each suffice ?"
"Perfectly. I'm please to see your good sense is only surpassed by your beauty."
Ignoring the flattery, Wendy searched the table, her eyes sparking when she found what she was looking for. Standing up she walked around the table and reached for a gleaming utensil, her lips curved in a triumphant smile. As her fingers closed on the spoon, she found her wrist clasped in steel fingers and jerked upwards, her arm twisting painfully making her gasp.
"Its just a spoon," she hissed, struggling in his grip.
"One can never be too careful of one's guests."
Releasing her suddenly, Wendy almost fell, her hand slamming down on the table to stop her ending up on the floor. Captain Hook sauntered back to his chair and sat back down, his eyes hooded. Panting slightly, Wendy straightened, pushing her hair out of her face before returning to her own chair and sinking into it. Steeling her nerve she turned to face the Captain.
"You said a spoonful of each I believe," receiving a curt nod in reply Wendy once more rose to her feet and bent forward, displaying the size of the spoons scoop for the first time. As she took a spoonful from the first dish and placed it on her plate Hook roared with laughter, his artificial limb banging down on the table, setting the crockery rattling.
"I can see we will deal famously together my dear." He chortled again, his hand coming up to cover his eyes as Wendy continued to collect tiny spoonfuls onto her plate, each scoop not much bigger than an acorn. By the time she had walked around the table and sampled every dish, there was still only a reasonably sized portion of food on her plate.
Smiling to herself, Wendy once more seated herself at the table, her back straight and eyes bright. Hook continued to watch her, his eyes straying often to her plate, a smile twisting his lips as he silently applauded her strategy. Her appetite restored, Wendy made short work of the variable morsels that comprised her meal, her movements slow and methodical, her thoughts turned inwards. Hook didn't interrupt her musings, content to watch her as she finished eating, a linen napkin used to dab at her full lips.
As Wendy sat quietly, her eyes downcast, Hook suddenly moved, throwing down his napkin and standing up.
"Time to fill the gaps in your knowledge of this enchanted isle, Miss Darling. As you've finished your repast, its time to take a glass of wine on deck."
"Oh but I don't...." Wendy started to protest.
"Humour me.....you were too young for such pleasures last time we matched swords, but now I think you might appreciate the refinements of a fine wine. If you'll step this way my dear ?"
Her nerves stretched tight, Wendy swallowed and made to rise, her eyes skittering to the windows so tantalisingly close. Hook must have sensed her panic because he moved to her side and grasped her elbow, almost lifting her out of her chair and steering her towards the door.
"I'm capable of walking," Wendy protested, sure she would be bruised from his hard fingers.
"Don't deny me the pleasure of escorting such a lovely young lady, my dear. It is not often I get the chance to entertain someone who is such a very important part of my plan."
"Plan?"
"Not here...you can ask me anything you like when we reach the deck. Come along now."
Propelled inexorably out of the door and into the corridor, Wendy could only relax and allow Hook to lead the way, her skirts brushing the timber walls, her bare feet slipping on the polished wood floors.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peter's body swirled in the eddy caused by a large boulder jutting out into the stream. He had managed to snag a large branch, his arms embracing it as a lifesaver, his head dropping to the wet wood as the water swept him further down-stream. He let the water carry him, his body still feeling the effects of the drug, his head still muzzy and confused. As the river approached the end of its course, it broadened and the banks dissolved into a small salt marsh, the reeds rising high and rattling together like bones in the breeze. The log carried him towards the shallow shore and into the quiet backwater created by the boulder, his feet scraping on the sandy bottom. Feeling the ground beneath his feet, Peter lifted his head and peered at the bank, the sun burning a hole in his bare back as he lay semi-awake in the shallows. Blinking, he pushed the log way and crawled out of the water, flopping onto his belly in the warm mud, the reed's swaying above his head, their slender leaves bending over to cover him. He must of slept, the last dredges of the potion leaving his body, because the sky was tinged with pink when he next opened his eyes. Rolling onto his back, Peter gazed up into the sky, his eyes following the progress of several fluffy clouds as his mind once more tried to make sense of the last few hours. A butterfly wafted into his line of sight and he watched it, its wings beating lazily as it alighted on his stomach, its antennae stroking his skin, the sensation faintly ticklish. A smile stretched his lips as the butterfly continued to sit on him, its wings slowly opening and closing, almost in time with his pulse. As he watched a glow started to surround the insect, its outline becoming fuzzy as sparks dissolved the body of the butterfly and left the shape of the Fairy Queen Alindra in its place. Astonished, Peter gazed at the tiny creature, his eyes following its progress as it flitted into the air and floated towards his face.
"I didn't know you could do that,"
"Never mind about that....where have you been Peter? We've all been searching for you since we learned that Tiger Lily no longer held you in her thrall."
"I floated down the river."
"Floated ? Why didn't you fly?"
"I don't know...my head was all fuzzy and I tried, but something stopped me."
"Dream potion....that wicked girl, it was only supposed to be used for the most serious of injuries."
"Dream potion?"
"Never mind that now, you have to fly Peter Pan. Neverland is in dire peril and you have to fly!"
Her wings beating fast, the Alindra swooped at Peter and grabbed at his hair, tugging him to his feet despite his protest at the rough treatment.
"Fly Peter, fly!"
Drawing in a deep breath, Peter let it out slowly before closing his eyes, once more bringing Wendy's face to his minds eye. Throwing his head back he lifted his arms, his back arching so that he looked as if he were tied to an invisible cross. Within seconds he felt a glow start in his chest, the warmth spreading down his body and out to his fingers and toes as if sunshine were pouring into him. As the Fairy Queen looked on Peter appeared to glow, his hair ruffling in the breeze like a halo around his head, his toes no longer touching the ground, his body slowly turning in a graceful pirouette.
"You're flying.....you're flying,"
Suddenly the brightness in his body exploded outwards and Peter shot straight up, his arms coming down to lay tight against his sides, his face upturned to the sky, his body a comet streaking through the clouds.
Behind him Alindra was hard pressed to keep up and he slowed to let her catch him.
His eyes once more clear and his mind sharp, Peter swooped down to meet the her as she fluttered upwards.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome Peter Pan...I did nothing...you only had to throw off the effect of the potion. It was never meant to harm anyone, only to heal."
"I have to find Wendy. What has happened here Alindra? Why didn't you warn me?
"I couldn't Peter...He arrived soon after you arrived back from returning your Wendy to her world all those years ago. You have to understand, we have lived peacefully on this island for the years while you grew. There were many other changes, in the land, from the volcano, the unpredictable weather and He didn't bother us, he kept to his ship and everyone had peace. It was all different, everything we knew, and through it all you slept, leaving us to make the best of things. We didn't realise that the day you awoke was the start of the end of Neverland as we had come to know it."
"You speak of Him, of his ship.....you can't mean...Hook?"
"Yes Peter....I do mean Hook."
"But he's dead...I saw him being swallowed by the crocodile! You can't get more dead than that!" In his head Peter heard the litany of the Lost Boys as they chanted 'old, alone, done for' as Hook disappeared into the Crocodiles maw. Alindra only shook her head, her wings drooping.
"I have something to show you Peter,"
"But Alindra..." Peter flew after the Fairy Queen, his face a picture of confusion.
He followed the bright light down towards the island, Alindra leading him to a secluded area at the back of the volcano where a cliff face lead to a rocky shore. Washed up against a sandstone ledge lay a giant skeleton, the bones bleached white where they lay scattered across the stones. Peter hovered above the skeleton, his eyes trying to connect the bones and create a picture of the creature as it had been alive.
"Is this the crocodile?"
"Yes Peter...it was found by the mermaids after a particularly violent storm. It had already been dead for some time and the mermaids pushed its rotting carcass to the shore. There were no wounds on the animal and it is supposed that it died of natural causes, but we don't know what. There was no evidence of other remains in its stomach, the mermaids made sure of that. There was only one thing they found."
Leaving his side, Alindra flew to a narrow ledge several feet above the high tide line, a shallow cave at the back. Peter floated down beside her and watched as the Queen entered the cave and shortly reappeared, carrying a glass vial with a silver skull for a cap.
"This was all they found."
Peter took the glass vial from Alindra and held it up to the light, the shard quite empty, the skull appearing to grin smugly.
"Poison."
"Oh.....we didn't think of that,"
"That would explain how Hook survived, but you also said he had a ship...where did that come from?"
"There is more to this Peter, you still don't understand the whole."
"Then tell me. I need to know everything if I am to have any chance of defeating Hook."
"You will need all your strength, and all your cunning Peter. But most of all you will need all of your heart.....and I fear that when you find out what has happened to your Wendy, your heart will fail."
Peter felt the blood drain from his face, his hands becoming icy.
"You cannot tell me that Wendy is.....is.....dead?"
"Peter...."
"NO....its not true....I would know...I would feel," Peter choked, his fist coming up to thump his breast, "I would feel it here if she was dead!"
"Peter!" Alindra cried out alarmed as Peter sped away from her, his body skimming the waves, the spray blinding him.
Flying as fast as she knew how, Alindra caught up with Peter as he slowly came to a stop, his chest heaving, his hair wet from the sea, his hands still clenched into fist.
"Peter....you misunderstood.....she is not dead. Yet."
Alindra felt herself pinned to the spot by Peter's glare as he rounded on her.
"Stop playing with me Alindra. Where is Wendy?"
Defeated, Alindra came to float directly in front of Peter's face.
"She is a captive of Hook, in his ship the Sea Witch, anchored of the Black Castle cliffs."
If a look could frazzle a fairy's wings, Alindra felt that look now.
"How long?"
"For as long as you have fingers on your hands, Peter,"
With an oath Peter swung away, his body twisting, tight with rage. Alindra, knowing that she would only have one more chance flew around him and into his face, bringing him up short.
Before he could bat her away Alindra spoke.
"You cannot go alone Peter, he has a fearsome crew, many you have never encountered before and the ship has better defenses than the Jolly Roger, you need to take care. You are not the only one to grow up, the rules of engagement have changed. It is no longer sufficient to draw first blood, any fight you have with Hook will be to the death."
"Then nothing has changed Alindra....I killed Hook once, I can kill him again. Now get out of my way."
Floating to the side, Alindra watched as Peter streaked away, disappearing over the edge of the cliff and out of sight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: All Because of a Thimble
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: Five - Truth and Lies
The truth is not always what it appears and lies are often closer to the truth than is comfortable, its the ability to tell the difference that can save the day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hook proved a solicitous host, his hand helping her up the steep stairways, her skirts often conspiring to trip her up during the brief trip. As he pushed open the door onto the deck Wendy hung back, her fingers slipping from his. Behind her a hand pressed into the middle of her shoulder blades, a stab of pain reminding her of the graze across her shoulder.
"Don't push," she hissed to the man behind her, "I'm moving."
Hook stook holding the door for her and she swept through, her eyes drawn to the imposing cliff that seemed about to drop on top of them. It was an illusion. The cliff face was over a hundred feet from the ships side, the face rising and steadily leaning outwards until it formed an overhang hundreds of feet high and blocked the sky from view. On either side it stretched away, one side sloping down to reach the sea, the other ending in a jagged edge where the overhang had obviously cracked and fallen in, leaving a ragged bite-like mark in the curve.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Hook's voice sounded in her ear and she realised she'd been staring open-mouthed at the apparently natural phenomenon.
"I've never seen...." shutting her mouth with a snap, Wendy pulled herself together and turned her attention to the ship and the crew working its decks. Up in the rigging sailors were attending to maintenance on the mainsails, several plying needles high up in the ropes. Closer to where she was standing, a group of men were sitting on a raised hatch and mending rope nets, their hands flying back and forth, the shuttles moving too quickly to follow their pattern.
"Becoming a fisherman Captain Hook?"
"Need's must with a large crew to feed, m'dear. But come, step this way and I'll give you the grand tour, starting with the helm."
Casting several long looks at the horizon beyond the ship's port-side, Wendy followed Hook up the steep ladder to the half deck, the wheel tied off as they lay at anchor. All the balustrades were heavily carved with reliefs of vines and leaves, some of the newel-posts in the shape of dolphins and fish. As she paced the deck she circled the mizzen-mast, her eyes looking everywhere for a chance to escape or acquire a weapon. Hook stood with his legs braced, his hand and hook clasped behind his back, his eyes staring out to the far horizon. Having completed a circuit of the deck Wendy came to stand just behind and to the side of Hook, her expression neutral.
"I understood the Jolly Roger was scuttled, so where did this ship appear from ?"
"That, m'dear is one of the great mysteries of Neverland. You are quite correct, my disloyal crew scuttled a fine ship and stripped her of her timbers but what is Neverland without its Captain Hook." With a flick of the lace of his wrist Hook stopped, his face breaking into a wide smile. "But I get ahead of myself, lets repair to the poop-deck and partake of some wine, I'm sure you must be thirsty after all this devilish sea air."
Again he reached for her hand to lead her up the short ladder to the upper deck. There he ushered her to chairs set beside a small table, a bottle of wine and two glasses gleaming in the dull light.
"You were very sure of yourself, Captain." She indicated the two glasses. She flicked her eyes to his before seating herself in one of the wooden chairs. It was held out for her by the mountain sized sailor that had been her constant shadow. Indicating the giant hovering behind her Wendy gave a small smile. "Am I such a dangerous enemy that you must have this mountain to protect you ?"
"I was not sure of you, I was sure of myself....you are a woman, afterall, curiosity is your stock in trade."
"And the mountain ?"
"He is there for your safety, m'dear. I wouldn't want you to get lost wandering around the ship. I can't vouch for all of my crew y'know, they haven't been on leave in some time. You are far too delectable a morsel. The mountain stays."
Shrugging her indifference Wendy ignored the glass that Hook poured for her, her face turned away. Beyond the shadow cast by the looming overhang sunshine danced on the waves and seagulls flew, their white wings flashing across the sky, their cries bringing a lump to her throat.
"Now Miss Darling, I'm sure you have a hundred and one questions lurking behind those rosy lips. Where would you like to start ?"
Looking down at her hands, Wendy gathered her wits and nerve.
"I saw you die, you were eaten by the crocodile....why aren't you dead ?"
"Straight to the point as usual. It's very simple....poison."
"I beg your pardon ?"
"I poisoned the beast. He found me supremely indigestible and spat me out. It didn't save the creature, the poison dealt to him once and for all...he was, as I'm sure you would agree...old, alone and done for."
Her hands clenched tightly in her lap, Wendy chewed her lip before asking another question.
"You hinted that there is more to Neverland....this ship, for example, where did it come from ?"
"The Sea Witch?.....yes she is rather a catch. As I think I said before, what is Neverland without its Hook? And what is Captain Hook without a ship? With the Jolly Roger reduced to splinters, the island had to provide an alternative."
"Wait a minute....what do you mean the island had to provide....a ship?"
"Exactly that m'dear. Of course I didn't find her immediately, I was washed ashore not far from here after Peter Pan's attempt to dispatch me, and I lived for some time on shellfish and birds eggs, but life cannot exist in a vacuum and before long I found the ship."
"But I don't understand.........how can an island...this island, provide you with a ship?"
"Well to understand that.....you have to understand why this island even exists....and to that end, you have to know the secret of Peter Pan."
"Secret?"
"Yes m'dear.....but I think that's enough revelations for one day. Drink up now, I'm sure we'll have many pleasant evenings to catch up on all you still have to learn."
"Don't patronise me Hook, tell me what you mean about Peter Pan's secret?"
"Oh no, that would be too cruel. I'm sure he's already told you all you need to know......hasn't he?"
"You're talking in riddles...I don't know what you mean?"
"Well, never mind m'dear, all you need is a good nights rest."
"I'm not tired. I don't believe you about this...this..secret. I think you've been making this all up."
"Oh dear....he hasn't mentioned anything has he. Poor Wendy, still hoping that Peter Pan can return those feelings we spoke about so long ago. I assure you, he can't. If he's said he can.....he's lying through his pearly white teeth. They say he's all grown up now...is that true?"
"You seem to know everything...you tell me?"
"Now, there's no need for petulance Miss Darling, sulks will only add wrinkles to that lovely complexion. I think I've answered enough questions for now." Gesturing to the sailor standing silent behind Wendy, Hook drained the last of his glass, frowning slightly at her still full one. "Take the young lady back to her cabin and remain there until I send for you."
"Yes Cap'n sir."
Fuming at his high handed treatment, Wendy rose to her feet, her chin held high. Before turning away her stormy blue clashed with his steely grey.
"You are wrong about Peter....he would never lie to me."
Not waiting for a reply, Wendy stalked off, her skirts swishing about her ankles.
As she disappeared from view, Hook reached for her untouched glass and lifted it to his lips.
"I can see you are going to be worth every bit of effort, Wendy Darling. A challenge, no less. It will afford me inordinate pleasure to cut Peter Pan from your heart."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peter's flight from Alindra took him back to the treehouse. She had given him much to think about and he needed to regroup and plan his next move. Alighting on the flight deck, he stalked through the huts, his ears deaf to the song of the forest, the buzz of insects or the rasp of a blade being drawn. All he heard was Alindra's voice telling him Wendy was a captive of Hook...and not dead....yet.
When he reached a rope bridge he flew across, his blood seething as he chewed over Alindra's explanation, the evidence of the crocodiles remains and the crystal vial that allowed Hook to escape his fate. As he touched down on the other side a blade sliced through the air, only his lightening reflexes preventing his head from being split open. Jumping to the side he leapt off the bridge and sailed toward the forest floor, looking over his shoulder to see a surprised pirate leaning over the wooden rail. His teeth bared, Peter jackknifed and shot towards the man, turning at the last moment to connect his heel with the mans jaw, dropping him like a stone. A loud bang sounded behind him and he felt the heat of a musket ball graze his back before he twisted in the air and flew under and around the tree, his blood pounding as he performed an intricate turn and landed behind the pirate desperately reloading his firearm. Peter reached out and grabbed the man by the belt and collar, flipping him over the railing to flail uselessly to the hidden ground below. Grinning, Peter pushed off again, turning almost immediately to survey the treehouse for more intruders. A spear came whistling out of one of the huts, falling short of Peter as he hovered between the branches. Noting the window, he swiftly turned and flew around the back of the tree, coming up behind the hut, his moccasins noiseless on the bamboo slats. Flattening himself against the thatch wall he peeked inside to check the position of the pirate only to nearly lose an eye when a blade came through the thatch itself, almost spitting him on its length.
"Missed me,"
With a flip Peter sailed past the doorway, the pirate inside lunging ineffectually at the swiftly moving figure, his action bringing him outside the hut and into Peter's domain. With a shout, Peter brought his foot down hard on the mans wrist, numbing it and making him drop his sword. Peter landed in front of him, his hands on his hips, his eyes lit with an inner flame.
"I want to know where Hook is hiding....and you are going to tell me."
"I'll kill you first whelp!" the man threw himself at Peter only to find Pan beyond his reach and his own impetus carrying him over the edge, plunging to the ground below, his scream horrible to hear.
"How many more of you want to test yourselves against the Pan?" Peter shouted, his body floating above one of the rope bridges, his legs crossed, a wicked grin creasing his face.
"I give up....I'm getting too old for this lark," Smee's voice sounded from behind Peter, surprising him. Swinging around, he flew to the window and looked inside.
"Why Mr.Smee...fancy finding you hiding in my home. How many more rats do I have to eliminate this day."
"Peace Peter." Smee held up his hand, palm outwards to fend off the youth advancing on him through the door of the hut. "This was none of my doing."
"But you are here..therefore you are a party to this days treachery. Why should I let you live?"
"Because I am the only one who can help you defeat Hook."
"I need no help defeating that codfish....I killed him once...I will do so again."
"What use is killing Hook if he kills your Wendy first? Hmmmm?"
His fists clenched, Peter took another step towards the cringing old pirate, his eyes like flint as they swept the room looking for evidence of a trap.
"How do I know I can trust you.....pirate?" He spat the last word, his voice barely above a whisper.
"On my honour as first mate of the Jolly Roger, since scuttl'd, I promise to aid you in the release of your Wendy and the defeat of Cap'n Hook....there, is that good enough?"
Receiving no answer, Smee risked a glance up at the golden haired avenging angel that filled the small hut with his barely leashed rage.
"Tell me again, Mr.Smee....how many more vermin must I evict from my home...three have met their end....will you be the fourth?"
"I'm too old to afford you much pleasure in my death Peter Pan."
"That would depend on what manner of death I choose for you Mr.Smee."
"Enough boy......I am the last of this raiding party...there are no more."
"If that is the truth you won't mind handing over your sword and walking out of the hut in front of me."
"Whatever it takes...I really am weary of all this skulduggery."
Heaving himself upright, Smee pulled his sword from his belt and handed it over to Peter, hilt first. Then he sidled around the youth and walked out into the dappled sun, his wrinkled face uplifted to the warmth.
"Nice spot you have here Pan....wouldn't mind retiring here myself."
"You could never leave the sea, brine runs in your veins Smee, not blood."
Turning, Smee regarded the young man that followed him out, the sword held loosely in his grasp. Peter still wore the deer-skin Indian trousers, the seam decorated with fringing, his feet encased in beaded moccasins. Smee whistled.
"They weren't wrong when they said the Princess had you prisoner."
"And Hook has Wendy....so lets get moving. I need to change and you can earn your keep and fix me something to eat. I don't imagine there's much around here now, I've been away too long. Make your way to that hut," Peter pointed across two rope bridges, "and I'll bring something for you to use."
"Now wait just one minute...." Smee protested but it was to thin air. Peter had dropped literally out of sight, his bronzed body slicing the air and threading through the branches to the forest floor in search of a meal.
Within half an hour Smee found himself skinning two rabbits and plucking a brace of pigeons, as well as boiling a selection of root vegetables that Peter had dropped onto the table. He grumbled to himself as he worked, his grumbling quickly changing to the words of an old sea shanty, his deep baritone rumbling around the hut and wafting across to the room that Peter was currently in, his armory.
Peter had stripped off the Indian clothes, his lip curling as he tossed them over the balcony. Naked, he assessed the weapons hanging on the wall, his hand reaching for an elegant sword, its hilt chased in gold, the blade etched with a delicate design that flashed as he twirled it in the sun. The balance was perfect and Peter grinned in anticipation of running it through Hook's heart. Next he selected a dagger, his hand gripping one with an ivory handle that had been carved with tiny acorns and oak leaves, its blade wickedly sharp. Finally he tested a bow, his fingers stretching the gut to gauge its tension. Satisfied, he held it in one hand and picked up a leather quiver, the arrows rattling as he slung it over his shoulder. Picking up the sword and dagger he left the hut and flew to the room he and Wendy had slept in. He paused on the threshold, his heart starting to hammer. Slowly he took two steps which carried him just inside the doorway. At once the scent of the flowers overwhelmed him, his memory supplying the image of Wendy asleep on the fur-covered couch, the feel of her hair as it slipped through his fingers. Dropping his weapons to the floor, Peter approached the raised platform and pulled back the curtains. The fur at the edge tickled his legs and he reached down to scratch, his other hand resting on the bed to balance him. At the feel of the lush fur under his fingers he forgot the itch as his memory swamped him with images of Wendy laying beside him. His eyes closed, Peter crawled onto the bed, his fingers threading through the long hairs of the coverlet as if feeling Wendy's silky strands. As he approached the head of the bed he saw that the pillows still carried the indentation of Wendy's head, his own beside it. Overcome, he buried his face in her pillow, inhaling the faint perfume still lingering. Groaning, he curled himself into a ball, the fur teasing his skin, taunting him with the memory of the night they'd spent, innocent and untroubled, unaware of the nightmare so near.
"I will kill you Hook....I will....I will," the fierce whisper broke from his lips as an ache fought for release from his chest.
Still clutching the pillows, Peter slipped into a doze, his face relaxing from its fierce frown, his muscles releasing their tight hold, his lips curving into a faint smile as dreams carried him away and memory supplied the details.
Smee, having called for Peter and received no reply, found the naked youth fast asleep, sprawled across the bed, a pillow held tightly to his chest.
"Still such a boy, Peter Pan." Smee whispered, his gaze sweeping over the long limbs and golden skin, his attention drawn to the tousled curls catching the light. "You didn't know what you were letting yourself in for, young fellow-me-lad. Women always change things.....you're living proof of that. Should've left her where she was."
Turning his back, Smee left the hut and ambled back to the kitchen, his face thoughtful.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An hour later Peter awoke refreshed and ready to start his campaign to rescue Wendy and defeat Hook. The smell of cooking wafted in the air and his stomach growled, letting him know just how long it had been since he'd eaten. Full of energy he jumped off the bed, standing and stretching his arms to their full above his head before turning and heading to the room next door that housed several leather bound trunks. With his toe he flipped open the lid of one and surveyed its contents. Smiling to himself, Peter hauled out several items of clothing, shirts flying in all directions, trousers, boots and belts following close behind. Feeling the need to hurry he pulled on the nearest to hand, a pair of buff coloured three-quarter length trousers, a cream coloured sleeveless shirt and a red-leather belt with a matching scabbard. He left the shirt hanging out and unlaced, the wide belt fastening over the top. Still barefoot, he padded back to the bedroom, stopping to pick up his choice of weapons and fix them about his person. As he adjusted the quiver he suddenly remembered the gold thimble on a chain, his hand flying to his throat. "Another score to settle with Tiger Lily," he growled, his hand clenching on air, the thimble a victim of his time spent at the Indian camp. His good mood spoiled, Peter walked to the door, stopping briefly to cast a last look over his shoulder before launching himself into the air and across to the eating hut, the smell of food drawing him there.
Smee sat puffing a clay pipe, the table in front of him laden with covered dishes, plates, a jug and two metal mugs.
"You could have killed me while I slept Smee.....why didn't you?"
"Had a good sleep did we? I gave you my oath, boy...for what its worth, my oath is my bond."
Peter surveyed the table, his mouth watering. Keeping all his weapons about him, he sat down across the table from Smee. Reaching for the dish in front of him, Peter flashed the old man a grin.
"I might just decide to keep you on, Mr.Smee....make you an honorary Lost Boy....this is delicious."
Smiling at Peter's impudence, Smee puffed his pipe and watched as the boy devoured most of a rabbit and a bowl of pigeon stew.
"Fighting gives you a keen appetite....you'll need every ounce if you plan to go head-to-head with Hook."
"I plan to spit his head on my sword," said Peter around a mouthful of stew. Smee only smiled, smoke drifting upwards, partially obscuring his face.
"You're too cocky by half, m'boy. Hook will be expecting you to try something...why do you think he took the girl in the first place? He wants you to try and rescue her."
"Is there a point to this, Mr.Smee...of course I'm going to rescue Wendy...and if Hook has so much as laid a finger on her..."
Smee watched as Peter drew his dagger and plunged it into the remaining rabbit carcass. "This will be his heart."
"Tut, tut....such a gruesome end...and is Hook just going to stand there while you do this awful deed?"
"Don't laugh at me." Peter growled, his eyes narrowing. Smee held up his hands in surrender.
"Oh I believe you'll do it.....I just don't see how you can do it on your own. You're not immortal Peter Pan. A sword can kill you just as easily as a bullet, or a broken heart. Remember the last time ?"
"Ha! The last time Hook was eaten by a crocodile."
"The last time Hook managed to kill your ability to fly...and he only used words....what's to stop him this time, using the same tactic?"
"Last time I didn't know Wendy loved me...this time he can't use that against me."
"Aaaah...so you are so sure of your Wendy that you think he can't harm you again?"
"What are you getting at Smee ?"
"I heard a rumour once about a little girl who wanted to be a pirate...so much so that she even had a name for herself all ready.....one...um...Red Handed Jill?"
Pulling his dagger out of the rabbit Peter flicked his wrist back and sent the blade flying towards Smee, the dagger thrumming past his head, burying itself in the pole behind him. Unfazed, Smee lifted his rheumy eyes to look at Peter and quirked an eyebrow.
"Bit of a sore spot, is it?"
"You are treading a thin line Smee....that was a long time ago. Wendy has grown up now...she no longer wants to be a pirate....she wants to be with me!"
"Aaaah, so you don't think that a sophisticated, mature, man-of-the-world like Captain Hook would hold any allure for the young lady then?"
"AAAAAgh!" In one move Peter launched himself across the table at Smee, his hands outstretched like talons. At the last moment, Smee threw himself sideways and Peter ended up crashing into the wall. Smee turning to survey the enraged boy as he struggled to right himself.
"You really need to curb that temper of yours Peter Pan is you want to have any hope of beating Captain Hook. He almost defeated you the last time,"
"I beat him!"
"Only because of your Wendy and her hidden kiss." Smee righted his chair and sat down again. "I would suggest you concentrate on removing her from the equation before you face Hook. Only with her out of the way and safe can you truly put yourself whole-heartedly into the battle."
Smee noticed that Peter suddenly had an arrested look on his face as if a memory had tweaked him.
"What is it boy?"
"Alindra said the same thing...she said I would need all of my heart, or I would fail,"
"Wise creatures fairies," Smee muttered, tamping his pipe before relighting it. His anger draining away, Peter returned to his chair and sat down.
"How do we get Wendy away from Hook?"
"Aaaaaaah now you're talking boy....let's put our heads together see what we can come up with."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: All Because of a Thimble
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: Six - Reunited
When is a hidden kiss, just a kiss ? When it is taken, not given.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Despite her best efforts to stay awake, Wendy found her nerves too tightly wound and exhaustion send her into an uneasy sleep. She still wore the dress Hook had given her, her intention to tear it off her back hampered by the lacings down the back. Not wanting to appear in anything that would inflame the crews interest any further, she decided to keep the dress, despite its associations.
Several hours later she awoke to a pitch black cabin. Allowing her eyes to adjust, Wendy swung her legs off the bed and stood up, her hands outstretched in front of her. She could just make out a faint light outside her small window and she headed for that, her hands encountering cold glass within a few steps. Resting her forehead against the cool panes helped her still her hammering pulse. She had been having a dream about Neverland, the images mixing Hook with Peter and throwing in huge rocks crashing down and crocodiles tumbling in a churning sea. Drawing in a deep breath she sank down and sat on the chest directly below the window. She could hear various sounds all around her. The creaking of the rigging, the groaning of the timbers as the Sea Witch wallowed in the swell, a loud splash as a rock from the damaged overhang dropped to the ocean bottom. She stared out at the grey sea, the small swell lifting the ship and rocking it gently. Soothed, the nightmare receding, Wendy sat leaning against the window, her eyes half closed. Now that she had been up on deck she knew that she was facing out to sea on the port side, her window only one deck down. As she watched a sliver of silver appeared on the horizon, the light rising and bathing the sea in a wash of moonlight. It appeared to Wendy's bemused gaze that the moon was lighting a path to her window, the silver beams showing her prison to anyone who cared to look.
As she watched the moon rise, its light as cold as the sun's was hot, a shadow passed in front of her window, blocking the moon for a split second. Blinking, Wendy sat up, her eyes wide. As she watched another shadow joined the first and appeared to flit across the surface of the sea, diving and swooping in the moonlight.
"Oh how beautiful,"
Now there were numerous shadows, all of them dancing in the cool light, their wings glinting as they twisted and turned. Shouts above her head told her the night-watch had also seen the creatures, feet running on the deck followed by the loud report and flash of a gun firing.
Either the moon-dancers were too fast or the shooter inexperienced, Wendy saw none of the fliers fall, their graceful ballet as convoluted as before, their number even greater. Her attention was so fully on the spectacle she never heard the door open behind her, or it shutting just as stealthily. Another shot from the deck above made her jump slightly, her hand coming up to her throat, her eyes scanning the creatures, glad that none had been hit again.
Without warning a hand reached around her face and covered her mouth, a muscular arm snaking around her waist and pulling her back against a very male chest. She tried to fight, her arms pinned by his, her throat working to free a scream but a sudden realisation that the arms holding her were doing just that, and nothing more, calmed her. As her other senses started to work, her immediate panic subsiding, she felt herself engulfed in a scent she had thought forgotten. A mixture of sunshine and sea-spray, of magic and mischief. Relief flowed through her tense body and she relaxed completely, almost sagging in her captor's arms. A warm breath brushed the flushed skin of her cheek, a voice achingly familiar whispering in her ear.
"Do you trust me Wendy?"
As the hand covering her mouth released its hold, Wendy drew in a breath, her mouth lifting in a smile.
"Always Peter.....always,"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Earlier that same evening........
Peter and Smee leant on the table in the eating room of the treehouse. Spread out before them was a map of Neverland, its contours painted with painstaking detail on a single piece of butter-coloured deer skin, the edges still retaining the outline of the original beast.
"You say the Sea Witch is here?" Peter gestured to the cliffs that stretched like fingers along the headland that sheltered the Black Castle. Smee nodded, his gnarled finger pinpointing the exact location.
"There's a huge overhang, the Midnight Cave, its there you'll find the ship and Hook."
"One way in, one way out,"
"No way out if Hook catches you,"
"Then I'll just have to make sure he doesn't Mr.Smee. I'll deal with Hook and his crew later...right now I just want to free Wendy and get her to safety.....its what we agreed."
"Aye lad, we did....but the doing might be harder than the saying."
"What was that phrase Wendy used," Peter grinned at Smee, his eyes alight with glee, "Faint heart never won fair lady."
"You can joke Peter, but there is only one way in and you can bet that Hook won't be stinting on lookouts. He'll know you're coming."
"And I don't intend to disappoint...eventually, but for now I just want to board the ship and get Wendy out. For that I just need a distraction."
"You can bet that Hook will expect that as well."
"Then it will have to be a distraction that doesn't appear as one."
"You've lost me lad,"
"If Hook is expecting a distraction, then he'll get one....he just won't realise that it is a distraction. That area is home to the black-winged Sea-Skipper. This time of year they usually swarm when the moon rises and tonight it'll be a full moon."
"Hmmmm I think I see....so all you have to do is wait for moonrise and the flamin' Sea-Skipper's'll do the rest ?"
"Right...now where on the ship is Hook likely to keep an important captive?"
"In the brig?"
"Not one as important as Wendy....Hook is no fool. He'll want her in the best possible health, if only to taunt me with his control over her. He'll have her somewhere safe, comfortable and small."
"The first mates cabin," Smee announced. Peter cocked an eyebrow, his expression smug.
"If the cabin has a window, where would it be?"
"Port side, second deck."
With a whoop, Peter slapped Smee on the back, the old man coughing in surprise.
"Go easy lad, ain't as young as I used to be."
"This'll be a piece of cake."
"While you're feeding your face, what do you want me to do?"
"You, Mr.Smee...you have to convince our former allies that they still are....our allies."
"Don't ask much, do ya boy,"
"I know you are up to the task....if what you tell me is right, Hook's former crew and the Indians will leap at the chance to set things right in Neverland."
"I hope you're right lad." Smee stepped back to his chair and reached for his pipe, tamping new tobacco in before lighting it, smoke curling skyward. "I hope your right."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the sun started its arc towards the horizon, colour streaking the clouds purple and red, Peter flew low over the ocean, his body almost brushing the wave tips. He was approaching the headland that sheltered the Black Castle, the sky starting to darken the closer he came, a mist blurring the line between sea and sky, perfect for his purposes. As he neared the bluff that acted as the roof of the overhang, Peter slowed his flight, the long black cloak wrapping his body, rippling around him. He arrived at the top of the bluff beside the jagged drop-off that marked the start of the Midnight cave, the cloak pooling at his feet. He dropped into a crouch, his camouflage the same as the black obsidian surrounding him. Pulling up the hood, Peter edged his way to the cracked precipice. He paused and looked back over his shoulder, noting the sentry pacing not fifty feet from where he knelt, his outline clear against the rapidly darkening sky.
His lips curled in a feral grin, Peter slipped over the jagged edge and started to fly his way down the inside wall, his body invisible against the shadowed roof. He could see the ship at anchor further along the hidden bay, his eyes noting the man in the crows-nest as the lamp suspended from the main mast shone down on him. Half flying, half crawling, Peter worked his way down the cliff face, his eyes gleaming within the dark hood. The sky outside the Midnight Cave was starting to darken, the sun's dying rays giving way to the evening star, already rising well above the horizon. From his position on a narrow ledge, Peter watched as Hook paced his deck, a faint glow from the captains cheroot highlighting Hooks features, throwing them into relief before the glow faded and shadows once more hid him from view. As he waited Peter took stock of the crew, noting the number on deck with each change of the watch. He watched as a shore party returned, loading provision and water barrels onto the ship, the lamps on the boat bobbing as the sailors worked. He saw the boat leave again, a net lowered into its hold and its crew working hard to row it beyond the cave for a spot of night fishing.
When he judged the evening star to be high enough in the sky Peter made his move, dropping to the small pebble beach at the base of the back wall and leaping into the air, again keeping close to the water, the ships shadow providing some much needed cover. He glided in silently, stopping when he reached the ships hull on the starboard side, the gun ports closed above him, the anchor chain gleaming dully in the faint starlight. As he worked his way around the prow of the ship to the seaward side, Peter felt the hackles rise on his neck. Hook was giving orders to the watch before leaving the forecastle and retiring to his cabin. As Peter gliding along the hull he noted that no lights came on, the Captains cabin obviously on the other side and end of the ship. Grinning smugly, Peter silently thanked Smee for his knowledge of the ships interior. He passed under the gun ports and found the window of the first mates cabin, the glass dark, the interior invisible to him. Fixing its position in his mind he circled the back of the ship, arriving at the railing around the half-deck, his black cloak making him a part of the dark sea and looming cliffs. As if anticipating his arrival the moon made its appearance, a bright crescent rising from the horizon and setting the sea alight with silver fire. As the moon continued it ascent, a dark shape appeared, swooping down to dance along the moons reflection, its body rimmed in liquid silver. Peter had to wait for the flock to catch up with the leaders, the Sea-Skipper's proving true to their name and providing an aerial ballet that none of the pirates could ignore. When everyone had turned away to watch the spectacle Peter slipped over the rail and landed lightly on the deck, the cloak swirling around him like a shadow. Keeping low he reached the hatch leading to the lower decks. As he lifted the lid one of the sailors tried his luck and shot at the fast moving fliers, his companions roaring at his ineptitude. Under cover of the noise Peter made his way down the access ladder and onto the first deck, his eyes adjusting to the dim light cast by the single candle-lantern in the corridor. A noise alerted him to a door opening further down the narrow gangway, Peter ducking behind the stairway to hide, becoming one more shadow. A mountain of a man appeared, filling the narrow gap allowed between the cabins. Peter kept his hood low as the giant sailor mounted the ladder and, with many creaks of protest from the wooden stairs, made his way up to the deck, the hatch banging shut behind him.
On silent feet Peter continued his search, his eyes seeking and finding the first mates cabin, his fingers turning the handle, surprised to find it unlocked. Another shot from above drew his eyes, but only for a second, his whole attention focused on opening the door quietly. Like a shadow he entered the cabin, the door closing silently behind him, then the breath left his body in a rush, his heart leaping in his chest.
Her profile turned away from him, Wendy sat silhouetted in the moonlight pouring through her mullioned window, the small squares highlighting parts of her body, casting others into shade so that she looked like an ethereal being, the substance of dreams. The noise from the sailors shooting the Sea-Skippers masked any slight sound he made crossing the small distance to stand behind her. He paused, a shot from above making her jump, her head tilting back to look up at the ceiling of her prison. Seizing the chance, Peter wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close against his body, his other hand clamping over her mouth to prevent her crying out. Her scent overwhelmed him and he closed his eyes for a second, his arm tightening around her, pressing her closer. He sensed the moment she recognised him, her body ceasing its struggle against him, her head no longer straining away from him. Before releasing his hand over her mouth Peter leaned down and buried his nose in her hair, his breath fanning her cheek.
"Do you trust me Wendy?"
As he released his hold on her mouth Peter heard her whisper back to him. "Always Peter....always,"
As if released from a spell, Wendy turned in his arms and buried her face in his neck, her breath like fire against his skin.
"Oh Peter....I'm so sorry....so sorry,"
"What for Wendy ?"
"For being so useless and getting myself caught by Hook,"
Chuckling Peter held her away from him for a moment, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight. He saw a hint of moisture in her shadowed eyes before he pulled her back into his arms, his cheek resting against hers, her hair falling over his face.
"You are such a girl sometimes Wendy,"
As he expected, Wendy stiffened, her body pulling away from him.
"If that's what you think..." Wendy started to say only to have her lips silenced by Peter, his mouth covering hers and taking her breath away. A noise interrupted them, Peter breaking the kiss to listen to the sounds coming from the deck above them.
"I have to get you out of here."
Before he could do more than move away from the window the sound of a door opening drew both their eyes to the cabins' door.
"It's Hook," Wendy whispered, her eyes huge, her hands clutching his arm. "You have to hide Peter...he's bound to check on me with all that noise above. Quickly, into the alcove, the curtain should create a big enough shadow."
"I'm here to rescue you, not the other way around."
"You can't rescue me if you're caught by Hook." Wendy hissed at him, pushing him towards the bed. As Peter started to move the door handle started to turn and Wendy frantically pushed him towards the curtains seconds before the door opened and a light shone through the crack. Having only moments to react, Wendy sidestepped to the window and sat down on a sea chest, trying to still the hectic beat of her heart as Captain Hook entered her room and held the lantern high.
Wendy flung her hand up to shield her face, the yellow light stabbing at her eyes like a dagger.
"Sorry m'dear, had to see you weren't alarmed by the shooting top-side, a bit of sport with some sea-birds...nothing to worry about,"
"I wasn't alarmed....I saw the creatures, I thought they were pretty."
As he looked down on his captive, Captain Hook noted her mouth, the lips parted and ripe like an exotic fruit. Putting the lantern on the floor, Hook advanced on Wendy, his eyes gleaming in the uncertain flicker of the candle. Her eyes adjusted to the light, Wendy dropped her hand and rose to her feet, backing herself up to the window to keep Hooks attention on her and not the rest of the room.
In the shadows of the alcove Peter leaned forward, his hand reaching for the dagger in his belt, his fingers closing over the hilt until his knuckles turned white.
"Um....I thank you for your concern....but I'm fine, as you can see."
"Oh you are more than fine, Wendy Darling...you are a rose waiting to be picked. Can you really be satisfied with the groping of a puling youth?...one, I might add, who can never return your affection. His inability to love is only matched by his overweening arrogance. I can think of someone far more worthy of your allegiance and love."
Her eyes huge in her face, Wendy drew in a breath, her heart pounding in her throat.
"You know nothing of Peter Pan....I would rather die than submit to your will. I have an allegiance.....to myself and Peter and nothing you could offer would sway me."
"Fine words m'dear...but I think a demonstration of my mastery over your destiny would be more illuminating than any mere discussion."
Before Wendy could move away Hook struck, his hand grabbing her by the throat and pinning her to the wall.
"Now Miss Darling, lets discuss how you are going to stop me tasting those lovely lips."
Swallowing hard Wendy stared Hook straight in the eye, her face revealing none of the fear that turned her legs to water and froze the breath in her lungs.
"You will never command my loyalty or my love. There is nothing you can take that will ever belong to you by right."
"Fighting words Wendy, and spoken with such passion. I think its time I had a taste of this hidden kiss. It certainly did amazing things for Peter Pan...I wonder what it will do for me."
Her head held immobile by the hand at her throat, Wendy could only stand rigid as Hook put words into action and covered her mouth with his, the touch of his lips so unlike the sweet embrace shared such a short time before.
A sound alerted her and over Hooks shoulder Wendy saw Peter prepare to leap from the bed, his dagger raised, his teeth bared but Wendy caught his eyes and pleaded silently with him not interfere or forfeit both their lives. His fist clenched, Peter ground his teeth, the sound of the crew above them confirming that any attempt would be doomed before they left the cabin, if Hook had a chance to alert his crew. The sight of Hook kissing his Wendy caused a red mist to veil his vision, his hands trembling in their need to rip Hook away from her and rend him limb from limb. Choking back his rage Peter lifted his head, nodding slowly to acknowledge Wendy's plea, his body sliding back into the shadows, his eyes as black as his thoughts of revenge.
As Hook plundered her mouth a tear slid quietly down Wendy's face, her lashes shielding her eyes from seeing the pain in Peters' and the triumph in Hooks'.
After what seemed like hours the pirate Captain lifted his face from hers, his hook coming up to stroke her cheek, lifting a solitary tear and bringing it to his tongue to taste.
"Well my dear....that wasn't so bad now, was it. It was certainly an interesting experience for you, I'm sure. So no more tears....that's your lesson for tonight."
"I need no lessons from a cutthroat pirate." As Hook watched, Wendy's hand came up to scrub at her lips, her eyes stormy as they clashed with his.
With a harsh laugh, Hook turned to leave her. "So much for a hidden kiss, it is no different from any ordinary one."
Turning her head away, Wendy leant back against the wall, her spirit as bruised as her mouth.
Before closing the door Hook snagged the lantern, taking it with him, the room plunging once more into darkness as the door closed behind him.
Released from the need to keep up a brave face Wendy instantly sagged, Peter catching her as she fainted, her head falling against his shoulder as she collapsed in his arms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peter Pan watched the moonlight slide across the floor as the night passed, the moon having risen above the lip of the overhang, the Sea-Skippers gone from the Midnight Cave in their quest for food. The ship slept, the only sound coming from the ringing of the ships bell to mark the changes in watch and the slap of the water against the hull.
Against his side Wendy stirred, her head tilting to settle further into his shoulder, her hair tickling his nose when he turned his head.
A hand strayed from where it had been curled against his side, sliding across his middle to tangle in his shirt.
"Peter?"
"I'm here."
"What happened?....Hook left...but I don't know what happened afterwards,"
"You did what any self-respecting heroine would do when she's ravished by a pirate.....you fainted."
"Oh....how very weak-willed of me." She sighed, her warm breath fanning his neck. After a long pause she changed the subject. "I didn't enjoy it one bit you know....kissing him, I mean."
Wendy heard a rumble in Peter's chest as a chuckle rolled up his throat. "I'm glad to hear it. I certainly wouldn't enjoy kissing a codfish either."
"He frightens me Peter. I thought he was frightening enough when I was a little girl. Now he fills me with terror....not as a pirate, but because he looks at me differently....not at all like he did when I was younger."
"It must have something to do with growing up."
As if to herself, Wendy spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't think I like the way he looks at me....it makes me want to run away and hide."
His heart feeling ready to burst at the poignant note in Wendy's voice and with his own turmoil from dealing with emotions, he had to ask her a question he really didn't want an answer too. "Are you afraid of me, Wendy?"
Surprised by the question, Wendy raised herself up onto her elbow and stared down at Peter, her eyes cast into shadow.
"I could never be afraid of you Peter...from the first, when I found you crying on the nursery floor, and even before that, when I awoke and saw you floating above me...I was never afraid."
Tentatively, Peter raised his hand and touched her lips, his finger tracing their shape as if committing them to memory through touch alone. His exploration complete, Peter let his hand drop, his eyes still holding hers in the dim, moonlit alcove.
"I didn't know what it was to be afraid Wendy, not really. I've always assumed that I could fight my way out of any situation....tonight has taught me different."
Looking down at his face, Wendy was struck at the similarities between their situation now and the situation on Hooks ship when they were young and Peter was about to die by Hooks hand. Then, as now, she had felt the overwhelming need to comfort and give solace, the only way she knew how. With infinite care, Wendy lowered her lips to Peters, her breath mingling with his, his warmth enveloping her as her hair swept forward, making a curtain to hide them from the world. As the kiss deepened, Peter's hand came up and held her face, his palm resting against her cheek, his thumb brushing her skin, leaving a trail of sparks behind with each sweep. As their mouths danced over each other, both giving and receiving nips and kisses, Peter raised himself up to meet her, the hand that had held her face now lowering and settling on her waist, lifting and turning her so that he now leant over her, his lips drinking from hers as they parted on a sigh.
Wendy felt as if she was drowning in a sea of sensation, her skin warming as if lit by a thousand suns, her mouth a conduit through which all her emotions blazed as brightly as the stars. She craved him, his lips like an exotic nectar that made her body quiver and her senses reel. As they mutually plundered each other's mouths their bodies strained to get closer, their arms entwined, their clothes becoming obstacles as the need to make contact, skin to skin, became more urgent.
With a gasp Wendy broke the kiss, her breath rasping in her throat as Peter continued his assault, kissing his way down her jawline to her ear and finding the sensitive spot behind it.
"We have to stop,"
His own senses overloaded, Peter didn't register her voice, his mouth too busy devouring her skin, kissing her neck as she arched to give him more access.
"Peter.....we have....to stop."
Finally registering that Wendy was trying to tell him something, Peter slowed his caresses and lifted his head, his heated gaze almost distracting her from her purpose. Licking her lips, which instantly drew his attention, Wendy tried again.
"We have to stop Peter."
"Stop?....am I doing something wrong?"
"Oh no....nothing wrong at all....that's the problem." At his baffled expression, Wendy tried to couch her words so as not to bruise his burgeoning awareness. " We can't take this any further....despite it being the most enjoyable experience, we can't forget we're on Hook's ship and need all our wits about us, if we're to get out of this alive."
In the faint moonlight Wendy saw Peter's mouth curve into a wickedly sinful grin, his shadowed eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Does that mean that when I've rescued you and we're back at the treehouse, we can do this again?"
"Oh Peter.....you are incorrigible!" A giggle found its way past her lips, belying the stern expression she was trying to maintain.
"Yes I know.....but can we?"
"If we escape this adventure unscathed and manage to get back to the treehouse in one piece....then I will be most happy to do this again with you."
"Wendy?"
"Yes Peter?"
"Can I have one more kiss....just to keep me going until we escape from here?"
"You really are incorrigible Peter Pan."
Her smile took the sting out of her rebuke and Peter leant down to take his reward, his lips teasing hers until she felt she was spiralling down into an ocean of pleasure. All too soon they reluctantly broke apart, both breathing heavily, their hearts and minds in harmony as they lay entwined, a bond created with their bodies that only death would be able to break. Peter finally broke the silence.
"You should get some sleep before the dawn. That'll be our best chance to escape, when the graveyard watch is about to end."
"How will you wake in time?"
"Let me worry about that....get some sleep....you'll need all your strength tomorrow."
Suiting action to words, Wendy snuggled into his arms, their bodies only barely fitting on the narrow cot, his cloak covering them like a blanket. As he listened to her breathing slow and deepen, Peter shifted slightly, bringing her closer, her hand coming to rest on top of his heart as her face turned into his neck. As Wendy slept, Peter kept watch, his starlit eyes never closing as the night crawled slowly towards another sunrise.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: All Because of a Thimble
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: Seven - Rescued.
When "by the skin of your teeth" never seemed so thin!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This chapter is rated "R" for violence and adult (read sexual) situations. That said, there's nothing too graphic, just suggested. But I couldn't resist a bit of a smut-biscuit for our gorgeous boy and gallant girl.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peter awoke her just before dawn, his hand firm on her shoulder. As she blinked at him sleepily, he gave her a crooked smile.
"It's time,"
Slipping out of his cloak, Peter climbed from the bed, going to the window to check the sky before turning and holding out a hand to help Wendy clamber from the bunk. In the chill of the early morning she hugged the cloak around her shoulders. She watched as Peter padded to the door and checking the lock.
"I can pick this....its just as Smee said."
"Smee?"
"He's helping to organise a rebellion while I'm playing the hero,"
"Oh really," Wendy couldn't resist a smile at his cocky grin.
"Are those swords the real thing?" He gestured to the decorative shield hanging beside the mirror.
"I don't think so, they appear to be bolted to the wall when I tried to pull them off yesterday."
"Never mind.....that's what my dagger is for."
"How can you see anything? Its pitch black in here?"
"Lock picking isn't about seeing, its about feeling....or so Mr. Smee says,"
"You seem to have formed quite a friendship with Hook's first mate."
"He's an old man, Wendy...in his own words, he's past all this skulduggery,"
Wendy had to smother a giggle at Peter's impersonation of the first mate.
With a faint clunk the lock released its catch, Peter flashing Wendy a grin in the half light. "Piece of cake,"
"I hope the rest of this rescue goes as smoothly,"
"That dress is going to slow you down, can you lose it?"
"I can't reach the laces...if you cut them I can leave it behind altogether,"
"Turn around." As Wendy held her hair up out of the way, the cloak dropping to the floor, Peter slid his knife under the laces and sliced them through in one move, the dress sliding off her shoulders when she dropped her arm. The thick material rustled as it pooled at her feet, the remaining pale petticoats and camisole glowing in the dark cabin.
"I wish I could burn it," she muttered, stepping out of the dress and kicking it towards the bed.
"Put the cloak on, it'll help keep you warm and hide those...um...."
"Undergarments ?"
"Yeah......I'll check the passageway,"
His dagger in hand, Peter opened the wooden door slowly, light slicing in a wedge across the floor. With no-one in the corridor he gestured to Wendy to follow him, the two figures slipping down the passage like ghosts, the single night-candle guttering and sending their shadows skittering around the walls. Remembering the wooden ladder creaking under the steps of the giant sailor, Peter indicated to Wendy to step only on the outside edge of the ladder, her bare feet noiseless as Peter flew up to the hatch.
Lifting it barely an inch he checked the deck, his caution rewarded when one of the watchmen passed directly in front of the hatch, the candle light too faint behind the escapers to catch his attention. Once the man had his back to the hatch Peter lifted it and leapt, his arm encircling the sailors neck to cut off his air, his dagger plunging into the mans back. As the body slumped silently to the deck, Wendy pushed up the hatch and crawled out, the hatch catching at her cloak as she crouched, awaiting Peter's signal. With the hood up Wendy resembled another shadow, but Peter, without his camouflage, caught every sliver of starlight. As he turned to wave her forward a dark figure jumped from behind the mainmast, Wendy having no chance to warn Peter before the two men collided and tumbled to the deck. The sailor had a brawny arm around Peter's neck, his hand on Peter's, his muscles straining to disarm his opponent. Peter's youth and agility gave him the edge and ability to twist out of the mans grip, the two grunting as they sought to get an advantage on the other. Wendy, horrified, searched the deck for anything she could use to help, her eyes finding the row of belaying pins holding the sail ropes. Getting to her feet she ran to the railing, her fingers fumbling at the ropes, pulling at the knot securing them. Behind her the sound feet and heavy breathing told her Peter and the sailor continued their silent battle, both men fighting for possession of Peter's knife as they twisted and turned. Finally freeing the rope, Wendy unwound and freed the pin, her hands gripping the rough wood, splinters cutting her fingers and palm as she pulled the stubborn pin out of its hole. A shout told her the third watchman had seen the two men fighting and was making his way down from the half-deck, a sword in his hand. He hadn't seen Wendy in her dark cloak and she pressed herself against the railing, her hands gripping the wooden club.
As the watchman approached Peters' back Wendy ran forward and swung the belaying pin with all her strength, hitting the unsuspecting pirate squarely on the back of the head, dropping him like a rock. Peter had managed to get his assailant on his back, the knife between them. With a sharp cry the battle was suddenly over and Wendy held her breath, unsure of the outcome, but her fear was unfounded. Peter pushed himself off the dead man, his life-blood staining Peter's shirt-front.
Seeing the blood Wendy gasped, her hand reaching out to assess the damage, "Peter ?"
Following her gaze Peter looked down at his gory chest, his fingers plucking the clammy fabric away from his skin.
"It's not mine....come on, we have to leave..now!"
Peter grabbed Wendy's hand and pulled her back to the railing, leaping easily to the edge, reaching down to lift Wendy up beside him. They stood, arms around each other, facing the open ocean, the dawn breeze starting to rise, billowing the cloak out behind Wendy like a black wing.
"Trust me Wendy?"
"Always Peter,"
Behind them the deck hatch banged open and the crew of the Sea Witch started to pour out of the hold. Before they could come close, Peter launched himself and Wendy off the side of the ship, their bodies arcing down towards the water in a dive until the last moment when Peter pulled them up again, so that they skimmed the wave tops, his arm tight around Wendy's waist, his face painted with a gleeful grin.
On the Sea Witch the sailors tried to fire at the fleeing figures, the noise of gun-fire breaking the peace of the new day. With the grey dawn light and a rising sea mist shrouding the fugitives from sight, the pirates fired their muskets in vain, their targets hidden before they had a chance to reload. Their angry cries faded as Peter and Wendy left the Midnight Cave behind them, their arch enemy waking to find his ship in an uproar and his precious captive gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Peter guided them up into the sky above Neverland, Wendy had to raise her hand to shield her eyes from the brightness of the morning sun, the golden disc burning away the sea mist and bathing the island with gilded highlights.
"I need a bath Peter......so do you....that shirt it ruined,"
"I know just the place, but I'm not sure I like all this bathing Wendy," Peter teased, his eyes crinkling, "I didn't have to bathe at all before you came,"
"That's alright Peter," Wendy answered, her voice cool, "I you don't want to bath I'm sure you'll find the sitting room a comfortable place to sleep."
With a shout of laughter, Peter released his grip on Wendy's waist, gravity instantly pulling her towards the ground far below. Wendy instinctively shrieked, the cloak swirling around her, her hair blinding her. Within seconds Peter had swooped down and scooped her into his arms, Wendy landing with another scream, her arms instantly entwining around his neck, her chest heaving.
"You were saying about my sleeping in the sitting room?"
"Oh you beast," lifting her hand Wendy thumped his chest, her expression angry. "You scared the dickens out of me,"
Grinning smugly Peter set off again, still clasping her to his chest as the forest started to come closer, his eyes looking for something on the ground below. As he concentrated, Wendy indulged herself by watching him, her half closed eyes taking in his wind-tousled hair and sun-bronzed skin. As she continued her inspection Peter surprised her and turned his head, catching her staring at him.
"Something wrong?" he quirked an eyebrow, smiling at her bemused expression.
"Wrong?....nothing at all. Just taking in your...oh, so smug face and wickedly messy hair....they both look like they need a wash."
Laughing at her teasing, Peter looked ahead once more, his eyes narrowing as he slowed his flight and started to descend. With the change in direction, the hood of Wendy's cloak blew over her head, blinding her.
"Peter.....I can't see,"
"Don't worry Wendy.....you don't need to see.....to have a bath!"
As he shouted the word bath, he plunged them both into a deep pool at the base of a waterfall. Wendy, completely unprepared, took in a great mouthful of water before Peter released her and she bobbed to the surface, spluttering and coughing. Peter surfaced beside her, tossing his head to shake water from his hair.
"That was wretched Peter......I could have drowned, you beast,"
"No you wouldn't have....you wanted a bath...this is the bathing pool."
"Oh!!" her eyes flashing, Wendy scooped a handful of water and splashed Peter, swinging away immediately to make for the shore, the cloak floating behind her like a fish tail. As she swam towards the small sandy beach at the side of the pool, Peter appeared beside her, swimming lazily on his back, his grin still in place.
Ignoring him, Wendy reached the shore and stood up, the water streaming off her soaked clothes, her hair hanging in rat's-tails down her back. Untying the heavy, water-logged cloak she flung it down on the sand before bending over, her hands reaching for her petticoats to wring out the worst of the wet. Looking down she saw that her camisole was dyed crimson with blood from Peter's shirt. Dropping her skirt Wendy straightened and spun around, her hands on her hips. Peter lay in the shallows, his face looking up at her expectantly.
"Just look at this......I'm covered in blood....and it's ruined...." as she searched for more to fuel her anger, Peter stopped her tirade dead in the water.
"Take is off and wash it,"
Her eyes as round as saucers, Wendy gaped at him, her mouth dropping open. Closing her mouth with a snap, she swung about, her arms coming up to cross over her chest in a protective embrace.
Perplexed at her strange behaviour, Peter rose from the shallow water, his own clothes dripping, and stripped off the blood-stained shirt, dropping it into the water at his feet.
"The sun's warm, if you wash it, it'll dry in no time," he suggested, crossing his arms over his chest, unconsciously copying her current stance.
"I'm not turning around until you leave, Peter Pan. I can't take a bath with you looking on and I can't take these clothes off for the same reason."
"But Wendy..."
"I'm not moving from this spot until you leave."
Staring at her rigid back, Peter scratched his chin, confused.
Hearing a splash behind her, Wendy glanced over her shoulder and instantly looked away, a painful blush painting her cheeks scarlet.
"What are you doing Peter?"
"Washing my clothes....if you're not going to, I might as well."
"Did you have to wash your trousers?"
"Yes.....is there a problem with that as well?" Peter replied crossly.
Swallowing, her back still to the pool, Wendy briefly closed her eyes, opening them again, just as quickly, when an image of a very naked Peter Pan imprinted itself on her minds eye and refused to be banished.
Clearing her throat, Wendy hazarded another peek over her shoulder, relief flooding her when she saw Peter swimming away from her toward the cascade, his arms working in rhythmic arcs as he stroked through the sparkling water. She had been shocked when she'd turned and briefly seen Peter standing at the pools edge, his trousers joining his shirt in the water, his long back covered in muscles that rippled under a copper-hued skin. As her eyes travelled downward she felt a tremor inside, her brain noting that the bronze appeared to cover him everywhere, including down his long legs, before her eyes slammed shut and her skin heated in a blush.
Now that self-same heat started to wend its through her body, making her tremble. Wendy had never considered herself a prude. She'd grown up in a household with two boys, for heaven's sake. But the sight of a naked man, and certainly one as beautiful as Peter Pan, was something she had never been prepared for, despite her Mothers', and Aunts', best efforts at educating her in the ways of men and women and the married state. In point of fact, Wendy knew more than her female relatives would have thought proper for a girl of her station. She'd had a friend, at her expensive finishing school, who smuggled in a French book that caused all the girls in her dormitory many a sleepless night. As they attempted to interpret the many lurid illustrations and translate the florid French text, they found the little book greatly increased their limited knowledge of the mysteries surrounding men and their relationship with women, especially those of low moral character. Much of the book remained unknown to the girls, their finishing school French not up to a standard sufficient to translate the bawdy publication. But enough had been understood by the time the book was found, by one of the teachers. To everyone's dismay the book was promptly burnt in the fireplace and her friend soon found herself sent home in disgrace.
Now she was able to compare that previously, untested knowledge, to the facts splashing around noisily in the waterfall behind her. The mere thought of any comparison caused heat to pool in her stomach and flames to race along her nerves-endings.
Dragging a breath into her lungs, Wendy dropped her arms from across her breasts and crouched down to pick up the soaked cloak, bundling it up and pressing the cold material to her chest as a shield, her tremors turning to shivers, despite the rising sun heating the foliage around her.
"Peter?" She croaked, licking her lips and trying again, "Peter?"
Receiving no reply, Wendy turned around slowly, ready to turn her back if Peter appeared au naturale again, but her caution was unwarranted, the bathing pool was deserted, the only sound being the booming splash of the waterfall. A sudden movement made her look up and she watched as a flock of colourful birds flapped their way across the opening in the canopy, their long, rainbow tails waving behind them.
"Didya miss me?"
Jumping in surprise, Wendy rounded on her heel to confront him only to have the words die on her lips as she faced a completely au naturale Peter Pan.
For a second she wished she could faint and forget the sight, her eyes slamming shut, her hand coming up to hide her eyes. Then she wished she could just disappear into the ground and never have to face him again. But neither option presented itself and she remained where she was, the former blush returning with a vengeance and colouring her from head to toe.
"Why have you gone all red?"
"Because....because," her mind a blank Wendy could only stutter, waging a war within herself, a desire to peek almost overwhelming her. "Because it's not decent to walk around in front of a lady without a stitch on...that's why!"
Smiling his wicked smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief, Peter leaned in closer, water dripping from his hair onto Wendy's arm, making her flinch. She could feel his body's heat as he leaned towards her, her own blush making her feel as if she were being boiled alive from the inside.
"But you're not a lady.....your my Wendy,"
Shocked by the throaty growl, Wendy's full lips opened on a small gasp as she dropped her hand. When her eyes flew to his, bluer than the sky, Peter sprung his trap, bridging the remaining small space between them, pressing his warm lips to hers, his kiss drawing her essence to him, her eyes sliding shut as he worked his magic.
With her attention fully engaged, Peter pulled the sodden cloak from her nerveless fingers, dropping it to the ground beside them. Then he moved one small step towards her, his arms folding around her and bringing her flush against him. Wendy's arms were already entwined around his neck, one hand buried in his damp hair, the other spread over his nape, her finger tips feeling the flex of muscles as he tilted his head and moved his mouth over hers.
Drowning in sensation, Wendy felt the tip of his tongue beg entrance at the seam of her lips, the intimacy of the touch a shock that sent lightning shooting all points south, before settling in her toes and making them curl. With a low moan she granted his wish and parted her lips, his tongue darting in, touching hers and starting a duel that neither wanted to end.
As the kiss deepened, time becoming suspended.
Overwhelmed, Wendy became aware that her body was pressed against every long, lean inch of him. Her breasts, almost painfully sensitised by her wet clothes, flattened against the hard wall of his chest, their peaks swelling into aching nubs with each breath. With awareness of her own body at its peak, she made another important discovery that helped elucidate the difference between fiction and fact. Peter was becoming just as aroused as she was. The evidence was plain, even through the layers of her sodden skirts.
Unbelievably, Wendy felt Peter press her closer, bending her over his arm, his lips leaving hers to trace a blazing trail down her neck as she arched it for his exploitation. His other hand came around the side of her body and held her just under her arm, his thumb brushing the side of her breast, making her ache as he stroked the soft swell of flesh through her damp camisole.
As his mouth made love to her neck, Peter's free hand reached up to pull her arm away from his neck, the move enabling him to lower the strap of her camisole, the lace drooping down her arm and allowing the fabric in front to sag and expose most of the top of her breast, Peter's mouth followed the fall of the material, his lips and teeth like firebrands against her skin. When his mouth closed over her swollen nipple, infusing her with liquid heat, she was sure she would die from pleasure.
A tremor shook her body and Peter, sensing her complete surrender, raised his head from her breast, kissing his way back up to her lips, drawing her back to him. She felt his arm supporting her, helping her limp body to stand upright once more on legs she was sure would never be able to bear her weight.
As he slowed his caress, Wendy came back to herself, their kisses becoming pecks until they ceased altogether and they stood, forehead to forehead, their mouth's open to drag in much needed air, their bodies vibrating with the force of their heartbeats.
"Is this what they mean by happily ever after in your stories?" Peter gasped, his eyes seeking and finding hers, turbulent sea-green meeting passion-blurred blue.
Unable to find her voice, Wendy merely nodded, surprised to still find herself on her feet and not melted into a puddle on the hot sand. Unexpectedly, a giggle forced its way out, surprising them both. Another followed and soon the rocky pool echoed to the sound of their laughter, a release from the heightened tension of a few moments before.
Leaning weakly against him, Wendy felt the laughter recede, her whole body now warm and tingling.
"Peter?"
"Hmmmmm."
"I must look a fright,"
Unable to hold it in, Peter laughed out loud, receiving a mock angry look for his affrontery.
"If you're going to laugh..."
"Sorry....its just....its just.."
Sighing, Wendy rolled her eyes at him, "I know....I'm such a girl!"
Grinning, Peter bent down and lifted her in his arms.
"I think you should take that bath now,"
Not waiting for an answer, Peter walked steadily into the clear water, Wendy squealing and kicking her legs in mock protest. When he reached deep enough water he winked at her before dropping her in, the splash soaking him before he dived, head first over the top of her, disappearing under the crystal water. Bobbing to the surface, Wendy smoothed her hair back from her face, the ends floating in the water like living silk. Peter appeared some feet away, shaking his head like a dog and sending droplets flying.
"I still think you should take those clothes off, they do need to be washed, afterall."
Heartily agreeing, but refusing to give ground, Wendy stuck her tongue out at Peter before turning her back and heading for a sheltered part of the pool where a finger of reeds stuck out and formed a partial screen.
"You just stay where you are," she called out, hearing a splash but no sign of him returning. Hopeful that he would heed her need for privacy, Wendy stripped off her petticoats, kneeling down in the shallow water to swish them through before wringing them out and laying them over the top of the spiky reeds, to dry in the hot sun. Feeling a little self-conscious, she peeled off the thin camisole, giving it the same treatment as her skirts, before spreading it out to dry. The water lapped at her skin, the sensation both shocking and delicious as she lowered herself into the shallows. Keeping her shoulders under the water, she dog-paddled out from the reed screen and into deeper water, her modesty preserved, if not her dignity.
As she trod water, she looked for Peter, her body feeling weightless and unusual, naked and vulnerable, floating in a freshwater pool in the middle of a jungle.
"You look just like a mermaid,"
Twisting in the water, Wendy smiled at Peter. He smiled lazily back at her, his hair dripping rivulets down his face, his eyes searing her with their intensity.
"I thought you said mermaids were dangerous creatures, just as likely to drown you as look at you,"
"Oh yes they are..they also have another reputation.....as sirens that lure besotted sailors to their death with the beauty of their song,"
Knowing that she was taking the final step along the path of lasting commitment and surrender of her innocence, with the breathtakingly beautiful man treading water in front of her, Wendy drew in a deep breath before speaking.
"Am I your siren, Peter?"
"You are my everything. You are my past, my future, my now."
With infinite tenderness, tears stinging her eyes, Wendy raised her hand and laid it against his cheek, her lips curving into a smile that made Peter's insides start to burn and melt all at once.
Under the water he reached for her, his hands spanning her waist, her arms coming around his neck until their bodies touched, skin on skin, the water swirling around them like an embrace. Fire exploded as they melted into each other, the embers left smouldering from their previous love-making igniting and consuming them. As Peter captured her lips and plundered her mouth, Wendy surrendered herself, her heart his, without reservation, her body no longer her own but a part of his, a willing captive of their mutual desire and given gladly in love.
Peter was sure he would die from the feelings that were coursing through his body, making his blood surge and his limbs shake with tension. As he crushed her soft and pliant body to his own he felt a heat pool and expand throughout his body, nerves sparking as his body followed its own instincts, fusing with the feminine curves so trustingly placed in his arms. If he'd allowed a particle of rationality to intrude he would have wondered why he wasn't scared of the whole situation, his body doing things he'd never experienced before, but rationality has no place in a world of sensation, so he ignored the rational and drowned in the sensual, his body finding its own way, Wendy's responses guiding him to the consummation of heaven-on-earth in her arms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: All Because of a Thimble
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: Eight - Revealed
After touching Paradise, what else...but what happened after.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Smee wheezed heavily, his feet starting to protest in earnest at their owner's abuse. Pausing, his chest heaving, he surveyed the view, pushing his stocking hat back from his head to scratch at his sparse hair, sweat trickling down one cheek. He was standing on a narrow ledge, half way up the wooden stairway that wound around the trunk of the giant tree that provided a home for Peter Pan. Against the trunk itself a rope hung, pegged directly into the bark, to give the climber some help. It was the same way he'd climbed only a few days before, with three other pirates, with orders to kill the Pan. Smee had wanted nothing to do with the plan, his heart heavy as he followed the other men. As it transpired, the trip had been worth the effort. Peter had disposed of his enemies and Smee had become his ally. It was all rather ironic really.
"I really am getting too old for this larking about." He drew in a shuddering breath, glancing up at the steps still to climb, his knee-joints joining the chorus from his feet. "Shut up the lot of'ya, it's gotta be done...there's no other way,"
"There is another way, Smee," Peters voice sounded from behind the old pirate, making him jump and almost lose his balance on the narrow stairway.
Holding a hand against his heart, his other hand tightly affixed to the rope, Smee turned to regard the handsome youth floating so effortlessly in front of him.
"You'll be the death of me. What d'ya mean sneaking up on a old man like that?"
"Sorry...but I heard you talking to yourself and couldn't help overhearing. If you want to save yourself a lot of hard work, just reach out your hand and take mine."
Smee gaped at Peter, whose hand was indeed held out, palm upwards, a smile dancing around his mobile lips.
"I suppose you're talking about me flying?"
"It's easy Mr.Smee.....just think happy thoughts, and leave the rest to me."
Groaning to himself, Smee first looked down at the sheer drop only inches from his toes. Next he looked up at the steps still waiting to be climbed. Finally he turned his head to regard Peter, the young man still holding out his hand, only a foot or so beyond the edge of the stairs.
"I must be mad," Smee muttered, his hand, trembling slightly, held out towards the golden youth, his body starting to shake as his feet shuffled to the edge of the wooden ledge.
"You'll have to let go of the rope."
"I'm not sure I can."
"Trust me, Mr.Smee."
Gulping, Smee released his death-grip hold on the rope railing, his body standing freely on the narrow step, one hand held firmly in Peters'.
"Do you have a happy thought yet Mr.Smee?"
"You are enjoying this far more than is warranted, brat. Give me a minute."
Peter gave the old man his time, hovering patiently while Smee closed his eyes and concentrated. As he waited, Peter reached down to a small pouch suspended from his belt. Taking out a pinch of glittering dust, he reached forward and blew it off his hand, towards the old pirate. As the dust settled on Smee's face and shirtfront, he started to rise.
"Those must be exquisitely happy thoughts, Mr.Smee."
With his eyes still closed Smee retorted, "that's none of your concern. My thoughts are my own."
"Then you should see what your thoughts are doing for you."
Surprised, Smee opened his eyes and stared at the young man grinning cheekily back at him. Peter waggled his eyebrows and glanced downwards, flicking his eyes back up, to invite Smee to look as well.
"Oh my gawd!" Below his feet stretch nothing but fresh air and the branches hiding the ground so far away. "Oh my gawd...don't let go, for heaven's sake."
"Its all you own effort Smee....take another look."
His heart racing, Smee dragged his attention away from the frightening drop below his dangling feet, to see that Peter was now floating several feet away, his arms crossed over his chest.
Smee was floating entirely on his own.
"This way Smee....Wendy's waiting for us, its almost supper time."
Not waiting for him to follow, Peter shot off, his supple body twisting and turning among the branches, rising rapidly.
Enjoying the sensation, but feeling faintly uneasy, Smee bellowed after him. "That's easy for you to say....how do I get going."
Peter's voice floated down to Smee, unmistakably tinged with laughter. "Flap your arms!"
"Oh well...in for a penny..." Feeling ridiculous at first, Smee flapped his arms in an embarrassed fashion, but, as it produced the results of moving him upwards and forwards, Smee abandoned his dignity and flapped harder, his arms working to increase his speed. By the time he reached the level of the treehouse he was actually starting to enjoy himself, managing to land on the deck without falling over.
"Odds blood, I did it."
"Congratulations Mr.Smee."
Despite knowing that Wendy was there, with Peter, Smee found himself blushing as he pulled off his stocking cap in front of the young woman, approaching across the rope walkway. Her voice was like the sea in calm weather, soothing and sweet, the timbre humming across emotions he thoughts long buried. As she glided towards him, Smee drank in her fine features, her bluer-than-forget-me-knots eyes, with their thick lashes, and her sweetly rounded face, with its seductively full lips. Crowning the vision was a mass of glossy brown, waist-length hair that seemed to glint with hints of gold. Totally besotted, Smee grinned foolishly, his hat becoming knotted in his twisting hands.
Wendy approached the old man, her hand outstretched. Smee, still grinning like an idiot, lifted her fingers to his lips in a courtly kiss, surprising her and raising a faint blush on her cheeks.
"Peter said he heard you coming up the stairs....I'm glad he helped, I can't think of a better way to travel than flying...do you?"
He could hear her speaking, his eyes were riveted on her rosy lips, but he was hard-pressed to understand a word she said.
"Ur...yes...ur...right you are, ma'am."
Bemused, Wendy withdrew her hand and turned to lead the way back towards the eating hut, her hips swinging as she negotiated the rope bridge. She was wearing one of Peter's shirts, laced at the front and nipped in at the waist with a wide belt, the shirt tails flaring out over her silken petticoats, which flowed around her ankles. To Smee's fascinated gaze she appeared to float across the bridge, her body swaying and undulating in an unmistakably feminine fashion.
Starting from his trance, Smee hurried to catch up, bouncing across the bridge in his haste to keep up with the goddess in front of him.
Peter had watched the entire exchange from the roof of the hut. He'd been amused to see Smee so taken with his Wendy, although he'd scowled when the old man kissed her hand. Like Smee, he'd been captivated by Wendy's back view, as she walked across the swinging rope bridge, the delectable sway of her hips enough to inflame his desire and cause an uncomfortable tightness in his snug breeches.
As he watched Smee hurry after her, Peter leant back against the tree trunk and closed his eyes, immediately transporting himself back to the hours they'd spent at the waterfall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Earlier that day.......
As the first flush of passion faded and their breathing returned to normal, Peter and Wendy made their way slowly to the cascade of water that pummelled the rocks and made rainbows in the air. As they swam they constantly touched each other. First with their hands, occasionally with lips, always with their eyes. Peter would dive down and come up beneath her, wrapping her in his arms, sometimes Wendy returning the gesture, her slender arms encircling his neck as they kissed again, the flames of desire never far below the surface.
Having crossed the final barrier and truly become a woman, Wendy no longer felt shy around Peter, her inhibitions dissolved in the joy of being young and beautiful and loved.
Peter, for his part, simply couldn't keep his hands off her, his body thrumming with the need to touch and be touched, his skin more alive than it had ever felt before. As they cavorted and revelled, twisting in the water like otters, Peter and Wendy approached the torrent of water, the spray dancing around them like crystal droplets.
"I'm going to dive off the rocks."
"Be careful you don't hurt yourself," Wendy cautioned, more out of habit than any real need. Peter only waggled his eyebrows at her, before leaving, to swim towards a low ledge, while she trod water. Hauling himself out, affording Wendy a much longer look at his broad shoulder, narrow hips and wonderfully strong legs, Peter gave her a wave before disappearing behind the sheet of water. He appeared again after a few seconds to stand, glistening and gleaming, on a large rock that jutted out over the pool. As he stood before her, Wendy found herself blushing all over again, her lips parting on a deep sigh as Peter prepared to dive off the rock, his cocky grin almost eclipsed by the scorching heat of his crystal-green eyes. She was reminded of a book she'd found in her father's small library, a journal of a trip to Rome, and the illustrations of the wonderful marble statues of Roman gods and warriors that were now in the British Museum. The perfection of those statues stood alive and vital before her, his lithe frame sheathed in golden copper, his vibrancy almost palpable to her newly heightened perception. So absorbed was she in her musings, she didn't notice his dive until he surfaced just feet in front of her, his face at first gleeful, then falling to a frown when he noticed her dreamy expression and abstract air.
"You didn't watch, did you?"
"Hmmmm?"
"You didn't see me dive,"
"Oh...no I didn't," smiling at his disappointed expression, Wendy circled him, her body sliding through the water, her hair streaming behind her. "But I promise to watch next time,"
Growling, Peter gave chase, making her squeal when he caught he around the ankle, his hands moving up her legs, to her hips and waist, pulling her around and clasping her to him, chest to chest, hip to hip so that nothing came between them. Leaning back to see his face, Wendy regarded her Adonis with starry eyes, drinking in his male beauty with unashamed desire.
"You are beautiful Peter,"
"Men can't be beautiful, only girls."
Unguardedly Wendy replied. "Well I say you are, and I've seen my share of men."
Still treading water, Peter pulled her closer, his aroused state pressing into the soft flesh of her abdomen.
His eyes blazed as jealously twisted inside him. "Did you share this with all those men?" He ground out, almost baring his teeth at the exquisite sensation of having her pressed up against him.
Taken aback by his fierce reaction to her innocent remark, Wendy paused before replying, her brain registering his jealously while something inside her burst with the knowledge of his unbridled possession of her. With her heart in her eyes, she replied.
"I have shared my heart, my body and my all with you Peter, only you, and no other." Trembling slightly with the force of her declaration, Wendy continued. "What men I have met, were just fleeting shadows, compared to you. They never had any substance in my heart. You were the only one I ever wanted to share my body with, and you are the only one I will ever share my heart with."
His frown lifting, Peter grinned triumphantly, twirling them around in the water, Wendy laughing as he shouted his joy to the sky.
His eyes shadowed with rising desire, Peter lowered his head and leaned in, to capture her lips, Wendy meeting him with a passion that matched his own.
Absorbed in their own world, they drifted slowly back to the sandy shallows, their need for each other rising until it consumed them again in a shower of sparks and heart-melting passion.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Opening his eyes, Peter stared blankly at the forest canopy laid out before him. He blinked, becoming aware that his physical problem was now worse, not better, after his musings. Voices drifted to him as Wendy and Smee made small talk, waiting for Peter to join them. Jumping up, Peter flew from the thatched roof and swooped down, alighting on the railing around the eating hut, surprising Smee and Wendy as they sat at the table. His eyes found Wendy's', scorching her with his scrutiny, a blush staining her fair skin as she dropped her lashes to veil her instant response to his unspoken demand. Ignoring Smee, Peter leapt onto the table, his grin wicked.
"Wendy?"
"Peter....we're not....we're..." she gestured helplessly at the shocked Smee sitting opposite her. Still ignoring the gaping pirate, Peter jumped down from the table and pulled Wendy to her feet, hooking his arms around her legs and swinging her into his arms.
"Peter!"
With a toss of his head, Peter turned his back on the astonished Smee and walked with her, out of the hut. Wendy held tight to his neck as he leapt off the balcony and flew with her to their sleeping hut, her nerve endings sparking in anticipation of their impending union.
On landing at the hut, Peter paused before entering, his lips claiming hers in a heart-stopping kiss.
"I was thinking about.....us," he growled against her mouth, his lips claiming her once more, leaving her breathless.
"Us ?" Unable to make any sense as she drowned in his kiss, Wendy could only repeat his words.
"What we did this morning?"
"This morning?"
"I want to do it again,"
"Oh..oh yes....but Peter....what about Smee?"
As he carried her through the archway, Peter gave a short laugh.
"I don't want to do it with him."
"That's not what I meant, and you know it,"
"You talk to much Wendy," Swinging her around, Peter dropped her into the centre of the bed in a flurry of petticoats, her legs kicking. Leaving her to flounder, Peter hurriedly stripped off his sword belt, followed in quick succession by his shirt and breeches.
Wendy struggled to right herself, tugging her skirts down and pushing her hair out of her face. As she brushed the last of the enveloping strands away, she only managed to give voice to a surprised squeak before Peter leant over her, crushing her mouth under his, his fingers reaching for her own belt buckle, undoing it deftly. Her shirt and petticoats soon joined his, on the floor, and they wrestled pleasurably, the fur cover sensitising their skin and heightening their already inflamed passion.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Peter?"
"Hmmmm?"
"I....um, I want to ask you something,"
"Hmmmm?"
"When I was held captive, Hook mentioned....things,"
"Things?"
"Yes....strange things. He talked about you having a secret."
His mind pleasantly fuzzy with the sensual aftermath of their afternoon tryst, Peter didn't pay her words much heed. His attention was drawn to the steady beat of Wendy's heart under his ear as he rested his face against her breast, his arm snaked securely around her waist. He could feel her fingers threading through his hair, the caress soothing and arousing at the same time.
"What secret?"
"Well that's what I said.....but he didn't explain...just said, that to understand Neverland, I'd need to know the secret of Peter Pan."
"Don't have a secret,"
"Are you sure Peter?.....Do you know what he meant?"
"Nope,"
"Oh.....he also said that Neverland supplied him with the Sea Witch. How can an island manufacture a ship out of thin air?"
"Don't know."
"It's most puzzling. Of course I've wondered how this place could exist, but I never really thought much about it before."
"Don't want to talk about Hook,"
Her fingers still running through his guinea-gold curls, Wendy had to smile at his disgruntled tone, his voice muffled against her side.
"I wonder if the fairies know something?"
Sighing hugely, Peter lifted himself up and rested on his elbow, his sleepy, satiated eyes fixing her with a languorous stare.
"You really do talk too much sometimes,"
"Oh you," pulling one of the pillows from behind her head, Wendy thumped Peter on the side of the head, her grin dissolving into giggles. With a shout Peter was up and grabbing another pillow, thumping her back. The next few minutes were a whirlwind of flying pillows and shrieks from Wendy, laughter from Peter, as they wrestled across the fur-covered bed. During a pause in the battle, they distinctly heard a cough outside the hut. With a squeal, Wendy grabbed at the gossamer curtains, pulling a swathe of material across her body to cover it. Peter leapt off the bed and grabbed up his sword, his body poised defensively before the archway.
"Show yourself," Peter shouted, his muscles bunched and tense.
"Um....no....I won't do that lad....I just...um....I have news for you and.....er....um....the young lady."
Smothering a giggle at the old pirates obvious embarrassment, Wendy turned to look at Peter, catching his eye as he relaxed, dropping the sword so it pointed at the floor.
"I'll be out in a minute, Mr. Smee...I'll meet you in the eating hut."
"Oh....ah...yes....um...alright lad. I'll be going now..."
Bending down, Peter picked up his trousers and sat on the side of the bed to pull them on, the shirt slipping over his head soon after. Wendy watched as he dressed, the fine gauze doing little to hide her charms when he turned to snatch a last kiss from her rose-tinted lips.
"I'll join you soon....." she told him, pushing him away when he showed no sign of wanting to leave. "Go on, Smee's waiting."
With a last, wistful look, Peter picked up his sword belt and passed it around his waist, sliding the sword back into its scabbard.
"Don't be long," he ordered, turning to leave the hut.
With a thump, a pillow hit him squarely between the shoulder blades, just as he expected. Grinning to himself, Peter left to join Mr.Smee.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: All Because of a Thimble
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: Nine - Allies and Enemies
Things are on the move in Neverland...and not only the people.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Captain James Hook paced the deck of his ship, the Sea Witch, and watched as the sun sank in a blaze of colour into a sea that stretched placidly in all directions.
"Damn, damn, damn,"
"Did you say something, Capt'n?"
Turning to stare at the impertinent sailor, Hook lifted an eyebrow, his lips curling into a thin smile.
"I was making an observation, Mr.Stretch. As you can see," Hook swept his arm in an arc to encompass the sea and sky. "All is right in the world of Neverland."
"Ur....yes Capt'n."
"Do you know what it means when everything is so calm and settled?"
"No...I don't Capt'n."
"Then I will elucidate. There is only one reason why everything is so....nice." Hook bit the word off with a snap, his eyes flashing. "It means that Peter Pan is happy."
"Oh....if you say so Capt'n sir."
"I do indeed say so Mr.Stretch. And further more, it suggests that the brat is likely to stay that way for sometime."
Correctly interpreting his companions confused look, Hook waved his remaining hand in the air, his manner congenial.
"It also suggests, to me, that it is about time I stirred things up again."
His brow clearing, Mr.Stretch leered at his Captain. "Do I take it you want me to call the crew on deck for a briefing Capt'n sir?"
"You anticipate me correctly Mr.Stretch."
Lifting his grubby hand in a semi-salute, Stretch loped away, disappearing below decks to summon the crew. Hook continued his circuit of the deck, his eyes narrowing as the sun finally sank below the horizon, the sky taking on the hue of a ripe peach. Sneering in disgust at such a vapid display of nauseating pleasantness, he swung around and started to pace again, musing on circumstances since Wendy had dropped into his life again.
He had ordered the ship to leave the Midnight Cave soon after the loss of his fair captive, his blood still boiling at the ease with which Peter Pan effected his daring rescue. The only joy Hook had managed to squeeze from the abysmal affair, was to take his rage out on the back of the surviving watchman, wielding the cat-o-nine himself before leaving the first mate to finish the man's punishment.
After leaving the Black Castle headland, they sailed around the coast to the Pirates cove, finding the ramshackle collection of huts empty of his old crew mates. Anchoring in the bay, Hook took some satisfaction in bombarding the pitiful houses, reducing them to splinters. When the smoke cleared, there was nothing left and Hook drank a glass of fine Madeira to his former comrades. After that he set sail once more, circumnavigating the island, hoping that something, or someone would appear for him to dispatch as messily as possible. To his disgust he saw nothing and nobody, even the Indian village appeared empty and deserted. Frustrated beyond measure he gave orders for the crew to report any sighting of mermaids or other Neverland denizens.
Soon, strange reports starting to come back to him, when his crew left the Sea Witch to replenish water and food. They found the land almost hostile, the jungle impenetrable in places, the river mouth beset with quicksand and sinkholes. It was almost as if the island was trying to repel the pirates, a situation that gave Hook pause for thought. He'd never bothered to fathom why the island behaved the way it did, he just took what it offered and used its gift the only way he knew how. Now he started to ponder what would happen if Neverland chose to reject his existence. What if there was no place in Neverland for Captain Hook? The mere idea infuriated him so much that he ordered a gun-drill just to blast a particularly picturesque part of the coastline to smithereens. The resulting blackened wreckage assuaging his unease for a short time. Now he was back at the Pirates cove, his previous carnage wrought upon the small village swallowed up by a lush green jungle, the foliage abundantly covered in blooms, birds flitting among the branches, butterflies swooping and diving among the flowers. It was all so revoltingly nice.
The murmur of voices brought his attention back to the present and he walked to the short ladder that climbed to the half-deck. Behind him, Stretch marshalled the crew, calling down the sailors up in the rigging, before taking an impromptu head count.
"Forty three and all present and accounted for Capt'n."
"Thank you Mr.Stretch." Hook surveyed his motley collection of men, his eyes pausing on some of the older, more familiar faces before passing on to the next. After sizing them up, with several shuffling their feet and avoiding his eye, Hook placed his hand and hook upon the carved wooden railing and started to speak.
"As you will be aware men, there is something afoot in Neverland. Its residents, both animal and otherwise have apparently chosen to go into hiding. I intend to seek them out." He paused, allowing the men to mutter between themselves for a few seconds. Raising his hook, he silently waited for them to give him their full attention. "This will be no ordinary expedition, I intend to find out where the Indians and ex-pirates have disappeared to. I will also be seeking out Peter Pan and the woman, Wendy. We will need to unload several cannon from the ship and make the necessary equipment to transport them. We are going into battle, gentlemen, and I intend to win. This island will be mine and its spoils....whatever we find, will be yours!"
As he raised his arms, a great roar came from his crew, their fists raised in anticipation of some long awaited pillaging and general mayhem. They chanted Hook's name while the man himself smiled smugly, satisfied that he would be killing several bird with this one particular stone. He was aware that his crew was growing mutinous with the lack of action and Hook, himself, was consumed with curiosity to see what was going on in Neverland itself. This way, he could achieve both goals and quite possible end up as King of the Island, to boot. He wondered how Wendy would react to being made his consort, as well as picturing Peter Pan's head on a pike. It was all too deliciously exciting.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Several days earlier.......
Peter and Wendy watched as Smee flapped his way down to the ground, his rounded form disappearing into the thick foliage that screened the jungle floor.
"Do you really think the Indians and Smee's Pirates will agree with your proposal Peter, it seems almost impossible to think of them agreeing to such a radical move."
"With Smee as the instigator, and the backing of the Fairy Queen, I think its the best chance we have of defeating Hook, once and for all."
Turning away from the railing, Wendy walked a couple of steps before turning around to face Peter again.
"Will Neverland let you do that Peter?"
"What do you mean?"
"Hook said something....I don't remember his words exactly, but he meant that Neverland couldn't exist without him, that you couldn't exist without him, or someone like him. That there is no Neverland without a Hook,"
"That's nonsense Wendy,"
"Is it Peter? You've done everything anyone could do, to rid this island of Hook....but he's still here....still fighting you, still causing trouble."
"Its the way its always been,"
"That's exactly it......what if it can't be changed? What if Neverland has to have a Hook to balance having a Peter Pan?"
"Why are you talking like this. Hook can be killed and I will be the one to do so."
"Can you Peter? I don't think the island will let you kill Hook."
"This is crazy. You're talking like a crazy person Wendy. You're believing a man who did everything to get you into his clutches, just to get back at me. He's evil and bad and I'm going to kill him."
Peter almost spat his last words in Wendy's face, his own contorted with anger and confusion. Wendy stood her ground, her steady blue clashing with his smouldering green, until Peter dropped his eyes, his body vibrating with the force of his rage. In one move he twisted around and leapt into the air before diving away from her, vanishing from view behind the giant tree trunk. Letting out a slow breath, Wendy waited for a few moment, her heart thudding in her chest as her nerves ceased their jangling and her body stopped shaking.
She didn't know why it was important to understand the supposed secret of Neverland, but she feared that if she didn't find out, then Peter's life could be forfeit and her own condemned to an eternity without him.
Her thoughts troubled, Wendy left the platform and entered the hut designated as a sitting room, her feet carrying her to a window seat where she sat, her knees pulled up to her chest and stared out at the lush jungle, her expression thoughtful.
Peter returned and found her there not long after, his quick temper already forgotten, his need to be near her overwhelming his anger at her confusing logic. He padded over towards her, sitting next to her as she continued to look outwards, her profile turned to him.
"Don't let's fight Wendy. I don't know why Hook would tell you something so outrageous. He's always coming up with some plan to outwit me, maybe this is another."
Turning her head, Wendy gazed at his earnest expression, her lips tilted at the corner. "I think he may have been speaking something of the truth Peter. Have you looked at the jungle lately ? At the birds, or the sky or anything since we escaped from Hook's ship?"
Giving her a crooked smile, Peter leant forward. "I've only been looking at you,"
Smiling at his sweetness, Wendy closed the gap and gave him a chaste kiss, her hand coming up to stroke his cheek. "Things are changing all around us Peter." She turned his face to look out of the open window, and see the forest beyond. "There are more flowers than I've ever seen before on Neverland. There are more butterflies because of the flowers and more birds because of the butterflies." Still touching his face, she turned it back to once more face her own. "I think that what you feel, is what the island feels. If you're happy, then Neverland is happy."
"Then there's no problem. is there.....I'm as happy as I've ever been."
He grinned at her, still not understanding what worried her.
Ignoring his grin, Wendy dropped her hand and lowered her head, hiding her face from him. "I also think that if you do succeed and kill Hook, that you will die too. And I couldn't bear it."
As if a light went on, Peter's face cleared and he finally saw what was making Wendy so serious. She was concerned for him, she was worried for him, she didn't want him to fight Hook, because she thought he might be injured or worse, killed. Wendy was such a girl sometimes.
"If I decide not to fight Hook....will that stop you worrying about me ?"
"You would do that? What about the alliance with the Indians and Smee's pirates? What about Hook?"
"There can still be an alliance...I'll just let the others do the fighting."
"And the island...the secret of Neverland?"
"Maybe there's something the fairies know, or even the mermaids. I'll find out what I can....alright?"
"Oh Peter....I've been so worried," Too relieved to see the look of guilt in Peter's eyes, Wendy threw herself on his neck, her arms hugging him to her, her lips pressing kisses to his skin as he hugged her back.
Peter buried his face in her hair, his eyes closed. He'd found lying to his Wendy no easy thing, but, if it made her happy to think he wouldn't be fighting Hook, then who was he to make life difficult. Hook would die, and on the end of Peter's blade, but Wendy didn't need to know that. He had to find a way to keep her occupied, while he planned the forthcoming showdown, with Smee and the others. Until the day he rid Neverland of James Hook, Peter would content himself with keeping his Wendy happy. To that end he pulled away slightly, to allow him access to her luscious lips, claiming them in a kiss that carried them both away, and made Wendy forget, temporarily, all her worries about Hook.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Smee returned the next day to inform Peter that a meeting was set, between the Chief and tribal elders of the Indians, and a deputation from the Pirates. They were to all meet in the Fairy Glen, that afternoon. Peter congratulated the old man, slapping him on the back until he spluttered.
"I hope you know what you're doing, m'lad. Hook is a formidable enemy. It'll take come convincing to get everyone agreed on a plan of action."
"You're as bad as Wendy, Mr.Smee, worrying about nothing." Peter laughed, his face split with a grin that sent a shiver down Smee's spine. "Hook has terrorised this island enough. It is time it was brought to an end."
"And what if Hook doesn't lay down and comply with your plan to get rid of him?"
"Then he will forfeit his right to live."
Clearing his throat, Smee decided it was time to change the subject, the gleam in Peter's eye enough to chill his blood.
"Where is your young lady today?"
"Oh...she's out.....I arranged for TinkerBell to take her to see some of the sights of Neverland."
"Really? And which sights would those be?"
"Let's see.." Peter held up his hand and counted off his fingers." Today it's the Crystal grotto, on the other side of the volcano's vent. That should keep her amused most of the day, then tomorrow Tink has orders to take Wendy to see the Worm Tongue."
"And is there a particular reason why your young lady is being kept away from today's meeting?"
Glaring at the old pirate, Peter pulled out his dagger and started to dig at the wooden table between them. "I don't want Wendy involved in this battle between Hook and me."
Watching the sharp point of the dagger start to dig a sizeable hole, Smee reached over and laid his gnarled hand over Peter's, stilling his actions.
"You haven't promised her something, have you lad?"
"Not promised.....but she thinks I won't be taking an active part in this alliance."
"Aaaah. Worried for you, is she?"
Scowling, Peter replaced the dagger at his belt. "She doesn't understand. Keeps talking about some secret to Neverland...about Hook and me...its nonsense."
"Aaaaah." Smee paused. "Women do worry....its the way they are. They're protectors, you see. Because they have the children, they tend to treat their menfolk the same. Forever wanting to keep them safe from harm. It's just their way."
"How do you know so much about women?"
Giving Peter a shrewd look, Smee pulled out his pipe and tobacco and started his ritual, his fingers busy while his rheumy eyes took on a far-away look.
"I was married once, long ago."
"Married?"
"It's....erm....well......its when a man and a woman decide they want to be together for the rest of their lives and....erm...they get married."
"Oh...so you had a.."
"Wife...that's right."
"What happened to her?"
"I don't rightly know for sure. One day, long ago now, I had signed on with Captain Hook, to be first mate on the Jolly Roger for a trip to the Carribean. Somehow we got lost, and ended up here instead. All I remember was the ship sailing into a dense sea-fog and....hey presto....welcome to Neverland."
"And your....wife?"
"Left her behind...as a sailor has too." Smee's voice dropped to a whisper, the pipe forgotten for the moment. "I can still remember her face....at least I think I do. I remember the colour of her hair. It was much as Wendy's, the same gold tints in the sunlight. I sometimes dream about her, my wife, and wonder what happened to her when I didn't return."
After a long silence, Smee remembered his audience , returning to concentrating on lighting his clay pipe, his eyes averted from Peter's as emotion choked his throat and squeezed his heart.
"What about yourself, Peter, are you and Wendy....um....well...are you two....um....getting married?"
For a moment Peter stared at Smee blankly, dumbfounded at the question.
"Mr. Smee...?" He ventured finally.
"Yes lad."
"If Wendy and I got....married...she would be a..."
"Wife." Smee supplied, puffing on his pipe.
"And I would be a..."
"Husband."
"I would be Wendy's husband!"
After a couple of moment, Peter started again.
"If I'm Wendy's husband...then nobody else can be her husband...right?"
"That's correct. Although I've known instances when a man has taken more than one wife," Smee winked slyly at Peter, "it is generally accepted that a woman will only take one husband. Its the way of things."
"So I would be Wendy's one and only husband,"
"That's right....until death do ye part," intoned Smee, smiling benignly.
"Hook once said that I would be replaced by a husband one day. But if I'm the husband....I'll never be replaced!"
"Well....yes...I guess that would be true, unless you died or were killed of course."
Peter once more became thoughtful, his chin coming to rest on his arms as they lay folded on the table top.
"Mr.Smee?"
"Yes lad,"
"How does one get.....married?"
"Aaaaaah....well....usually it involves alot of fancy words and a church, with a parson. Then there's a ring and flowers and a wedding breakfast....oh, and her family and your family and all the relatives..."
Smee stopped when Peter held up his hand, a frown creasing his forehead.
"Does everyone have to do all that just to get married?"
"Well.....no...but women put alot of stock in all that fribble, its important to do it right."
"Do you think Wendy would want all that fuss at her wedding?"
"I don't know....but women are funny creatures. They often say one thing but mean something else."
"What was your wedding like Smee?"
"Aaaah....my Peggy and me didn't have much family...there was only a brother for her, somewhere on the sea, and a sister for me, who was married already and up north. So we just had her and me and the parson and a ring. All over in a matter of minutes...."
"A ring?"
"Oh yes.....that's the most important part of the ceremony...you give your wife a ring, to signify fidelity and love. Here....I'll show you the one my Peggy gave me." Rummaging in his shirt, Smee produced a tiny leather pouch. He tipped the contents onto his hand and Peter leaned forward to look.
He saw a small band of gold, its colour dull but warm, even after so long hidden inside the leather pouch. Peter reached out a finger and touched it.
"Try it on....I can't wear it any more, because of my bony knuckles, too twisted and swollen they are."
Hesitantly, Peter lifted the ring and held it up to the light, between his fingers, a faint pattern barely visible on the rings surface. Smee continued to reminisce.
"Used to have a leaf pattern on the outside, but it wore off over time. Pretty thing it was....my Peggy chose it, took all her money from sewing to pay for it."
Peter slipped the ring over his first finger of his right hand, the ring twirling loosely. Smee reached across and plucked it off, moving it to the third finger of Peter's left hand where it sat, glinting, in a dappled ray of sunlight.
"See....fits like a glove."
Peter stared at the small ring, thoughts whirling in his head, the word husband beating at his brain like the persistent roar of waves on a beach. As if reaching a decision, he closed his hand into a fist, trapping the ring on his finger.
"I want to borrow this ring, Mr.Smee....just for a short time."
Assessing the young man shrewdly, Smee nodded, smoke curling around his head.
"Keep if lad, for as long as you need to....any particular reason why?"
Peter flicked his eyes up to the old pirate, a gleam in their green depths.
"I want to get a copy made, one for me and one for Wendy."
"It's a big step Peter....are you sure you're ready for this?"
"While I'm alive, Mr.Smee....Wendy will have only one husband.....me!"
"Fair enough....you know your own mind." Pulling out a battered pocket watch, Smee raised his eyebrows when he saw the time. "We need to get going, if we're to be at the meeting before the others arrive."
"I'll be with you in a moment." Getting to his feet, Peter left Smee and flew back to the sleeping hut. Inside he rummaged through one of the chests and found a length of leather, the narrow strip perfect to hold the ring safe around his neck and hidden under his shirt.
Returning to where Smee waited, Peter opened his pouch of fairy dust and sprinkled a pinch over Smee's head. One after the other, they launched themselves from the deck, Peter taking the lead, and flew unhurriedly towards the Fairy Glen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wendy sighed, her mind not really on the task in hand. TinkerBell heard the faint sound and flew back to investigate. They were inside one of the Crystal caves, light from the TinkerBell creating a wonderland of colour and light that would have entranced Wendy, if she didn't feel that something wasn't right. She hadn't wanted to make the trip on her own, despite Peter's insistence that he'd been a hundred times and didn't want to go again. She felt he was being evasive. Whenever she tried to broach the subject of him joining her, his eyes would spark with mischief, scant seconds before he kissed her, his distraction pleasurable, but evasive all the same.
"What are you up to?" she asked the air, her fingers absently touching one of the huge crystal stalagmites that lined the narrow path that wound through the grotto, her feet crunching over the crushed crystal surface. TinkerBell buzzed around her head, her musical voice raised in a question. Wendy paused, holding out her hand for the fairy to alight on. Tink fluttered down and stood, her tiny arms folded, her head tilted to the side.
"I do appreciate you showing me this wonderful place Tink, really I do," Tink's face smiled broadly up at Wendy. "But I can't help feeling that Peter wanted me out of the way, for some reason." Tink held out her hands and shrugged, her smile slipping a little. "Do you know what going on?"
Vigorously shaking her head, Tink flew off Wendy's hand and fluttered about a hanging shard of crystal, her light shining through and causing rainbows to dance around Wendy. "I guess you don't know anything either," she cried, watching the rainbows slid up and down her skirts as she twirled around. Tink, happy to have diverted Wendy's attention, flew ahead, her light fracturing into multi-coloured beams as she flew around crystal stalactites hanging like chandeliers from the high roof.
It was hard to remain glum in a cavern that looked like a glittering rainbow or Aladdin's cave of treasures. As they walked deeper into the caves, Wendy saw all manner of different shaped crystals. Some were square, other multifaceted, other like tiny pearls all set in a large pile, their rounded facets winking at her like eyes. She saw TinkerBell disappear through a rounded arch, her light winking just out of sight. Bending low, Wendy followed, her hands brushing the smooth edged of the archway, finding the surface cold to the touch.
"TinkerBell?"
As she entered the new cave Tinks' light suddenly disappeared, plunging the cave into a strangely lit gloom. Thinking the fairy was just teasing her, Wendy stood just inside the door, her arms folded across her chest.
"TinkerBell....this isn't funny...jokes over, where are you?"
A faint tinkling sound drew her attention, drawing her further into the room. "Tink, please come out."
Another chime sounded from behind her, making her spin around.
"I don't like this Tink....its not funny to hide."
Backing away, Wendy took a step, her hands finding the cave wall behind her, her fingers searching for the opening while her eyes tried to pierce the gloom.
"TinkerBell can't hear you, Wendy woman....you are here, all alone."
Wendy listened to the sibilant whisper with growing unease, her ears trying to discern where the voice was coming from, but try as she might, it appeared to come from nowhere and everywhere.
"Who are you?...Why can't Tink hear me?"
"You haven't seen me for many years, Wendy woman, but once I was a friend of Peter Pan. Now he is my enemy...which makes you my enemy as well."
"Why?....what have I done to you?....I don't understand."
"Stupid pale face.....without you around, Peter would have been happy with me. Now I am banished, forced to marry Grey Wolf and make a life away from my family, away from my home, away from him, all because of you."
Shivering from the venom in the voice, Wendy wrapped her arms around her middle and swallowed hard.
"What are you going to do?"
"Why nothing....I'll let the cave finish you off. The grotto runs for miles and without a guide, or a light, you will soon fall down one of the many holes and cracks that litter the floor of this place. This will be your tomb."
Completely unnerved, Wendy swung around, a small knife in her hand, her arm slashing at the semi-darkness. "Show yourself, you coward."
Wild laughter greeted her challenge, the sound echoing around the cave and beating against her ears. "Enjoy your death...ugly pale-face....I'm sure Peter will mourn your passing....I hope it pains him deeply."
For long moments Wendy kept her defensive stance, her arm aching from the unaccustomed position of being held up in front of her. Eventually, the only sound was her own harsh breathing as she strained to hear her tormentor.
"Are you there?"
Silence greeted her cry, her heart starting to beat as she felt the first stirring of panic. Sheathing her knife, Wendy felt along the wall for the archway, her hands running over the jagged walls for what seemed like hours, but in fact only minutes, before she found the smooth edge of the arch. Her relief made her feel lightheaded, a quick couple of deep breaths dispelling the dizziness.
"HELLO," she shouted, the echo's coming back and mocking her as they reverberated off the walls and ceiling, the overlapping sound lasting for a long time.
Her eyes had become accustomed to the semi-darkness, but it hardly helped, as all the previously brightly illuminated crystals now sat like so many lumps of obsidian rock, their many facets dull and lifeless.
Fear started its insidious invasion, her throat tightening as she tried to remember all the twist and turns and different caves they'd walked through on their way in, but it proved hopeless. She simply hadn't been paying attention, too caught up in her thoughts about Peter and his perplexing behaviour. Overwhelmed, Wendy indulged in a few tears, her nerves still overwrought and jumpy. Wiping her eyes, she leant against one of the stalagmites and reviewed her meagre supplies. She had her knife which was attached to her belt, she had her shirt and petticoats and nothing else. TinkerBell had assured her the trip would only take an hour or two so Wendy hadn't bothered with water or food, trusting TinkerBell and the jungle to supply with both. Now she was stranded in a cave that had neither.
"Oh Peter....please hear me....I don't think this adventure will have a happy ending after all."
For several minutes Wendy stood, her eyes closed thinking only of Peter and trying to call out to him with her mind and heart.
When she opened her eyes, the cave was still dark and silent. Drawing herself up and taking a deep breath, Wendy started to walk, her feet scuffing against the fine dust of the crushed crystal, her hands outstretched to help her avoid bumping into the ghost-like structures that stretched as far her straining eyes could see.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sitting on the ground, his legs crossed, Peter felt a sharp twinge in his chest, his hand coming up to rub it as it persisted. He was part of a large circle of Neverland residents. Across from him sat several of Smee's pirates, their faces warily alert, their eyes flicking between Peter and the Indians ranged around them. Despite their previously cordial relationship, the return of Captain Hook and the re-recruitment of several of his old crew had sown the seed of suspicion between the former enemies. The Indians, far outnumbering the remaining pirates, looked on with stony faces, their eyes not meeting their former neighbours nervous glances. Smee sat on Peters right, one of the Chief's braves on Peter's left. The fairies were ranged in the branches above everyone's head, their lights creating a warm glow in the chilly atmosphere surrounding the group below.
Again Peter felt a sharp stab of pain, making him wince and drawing Smee's attention.
"Are ye all right lad?"
"There's a pain..." Peter broke off as it hit again, with increased intensity, almost doubling him over.
Now everyone was staring, faces turning towards each other and voices starting to mutter.
"What is wrong?" Asked Sleepy-Owl.
Smee turned to the brave sitting beside him, having heard the Chief speak, the brave translating for him.
"I'm not sure....Peter?"
"It's nothing...its fading." Peter managed a weak, lopsided grin, "maybe it was something I ate."
"Are you alright to continue?"
Sitting up a bit straighter, Peter managed a reassuring smile at the faces staring at him. "I'm fine...lets get on."
They had already been talking for hours, the preliminary talks ones of reviving damaged perceptions and reassuring nervous former allies. Now they had to get to the business of Captain Hook. Peter had let Smee do most of the talking, having discussed it thoroughly while waiting for the rest of the interested parties to arrive. Now it was just a matter of gathering information on Hooks whereabouts, to implement the plan.
"It's settled then....we need to remove all possible hostages to a safe haven before we launch our offensive."
Peter listened with half an ear as Smee laid out the details, his hand still coming up to rub the area in the middle of his chest that continued to ache, the pain ebbing and flowing in time with his pulse.
"Then we are all agreed?" He heard Smee ask, the chorus of assent the last thing Peter heard before he passed out completely, toppling backwards, blackness welcoming him into her velvet arms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: All Because of a Thimble
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: Ten - Missing
Familiarity may breed contempt, but separation will always give rise to heartache.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I think he's coming around....Peter lad, can you hear me?"
"Here...wave this under his nose."
Peter heard the voices, he just didn't want to leave this wonderfully soft and comfortable darkness, his body loose and relaxed as he drifted among the black. Suddenly an acrid smell jolted him out of his complacency, and he started to cough, his eyes watering in sympathy with his nose.
"That did the trick," Smee's wrinkly face filled Peter's vision when he lifted his eyelids and took his first look in several hours. He saw a hand wafting something in front of his face. It seemed to be the source of the horrid odour.
"What the hell are you doing?" Screwing up his nose he batted the hand away, to remove the noxious fumes.
"Nice to have you back with us...gave us all quite a fright when you keeled over, like you was pole-axed."
With Smee's help and an arm around his shoulders, Peter levered himself into a sitting position, finding himself surrounded by concerned faces of every colour, as Pirate and Indian crowded around. Blinking, Peter stared back, his hand coming up to rub at his chest.
"Why are you all staring at me like that....haven't you ever seen anyone unconscious before?"
"Sure we have, but you usually take a blow to the noggin first," retorted one of the pirates, exchanging a glance with his neighbours to acknowledge their agreement.
"Didn't they...er...didn't someone hit me?"
Smee waved some of the bodies back, clearing a space. "No lad, they didn't. You just keeled over, dead to the world. There was no reason, that we could see...although you did come over very queer just before it happened."
"There was a pain.....here....it felt like someone had stabbed me in the heart."
Peter looked down at his chest, pulling the shirt away to inspect the skin below, surprised to see it still unblemished and unharmed.
"There's nothing there.......just you, out for the count and nothing to explain it."
Finding himself the centre of unwanted attention, Peter climbed to his feet and stood, swaying slightly, Smee's hand outstretched, in case his legs decided to buckle.
"I'm fine....really," Peter said, waving away Smee's solicitous gesture. "How long was I out of it?"
Pulling out his watch, Smee consulted it before answering.
"Let's see....we had just finished the meeting, made the final arrangement regarding Hook and the Sea Witch...it was near enough to four-o-clock as never-you-mind..." he stopped when Peter put a hand to his head, looking pained. "Another turn is it?"
"No....just roughly, how long?"
"Oh....three or so hours....give or take a few minutes."
"Three hours!!"
Peter tilted his head to look up at the sky, noting the last streaks of sunset colouring the lowering clouds, the first stars starting to appear.
"I have to get home....Wendy..."
"But you told me she wouldn't be back until tomorrow...she's at the Crystal Grotto, or somesuch nonsense."
"Oh...yeah...I remember....with TinkerBell."
"That's right. Now clear a way there, you lot, give the boy some room to breath."
Officiously, Smee waved the crowd of onlookers back, their interest waning now that Peter appeared to be no worse for his nap. One of the pirates couldn't resist a parting shot before Smee shooed him away.
"I'd say he had something bad for lunch, boyo, he's certainly gone a funny colour,"
Scowling at the pirate, who beat a hasty retreat, Peter leaned back against a convenient tree and tried to remember what had happened before he'd passed out. He spotted the Indian Chief, Tiger Lily's father, sitting a little distance away, surrounded by his court of braves and elders. Pushing away from the tree, Peter approached, sitting down, rather inelegantly, crossed legged in front of the Chief.
Raising his hand in the traditional Indian greeting, Peter intoned "How,"
His expression as inscrutable as ever, the Chief replied in kind, his court remaining silent and stony faced.
"Chief Running Bear. I haven't been able to speak of important matters with you since I was forced," Peter stopped, biting his lip and rephrasing his words, "...it became impossible to stay at your camp."
"You were right the first time....Peter Pan....you were forced and we apologise, on behalf of my daughter, for her dishonourable behaviour." The interpreter translated, after the Chief had replied.
Before Peter could ask his question, the Chief gestured to one of the Elders, the man handing a deer-skin pouch over to the Chief.
"These belong to you, Peter Pan."
Taking the pouch, Peter up-ended it and tipped the contents onto the palm of his hand. Glinting in the light from the torches scattered around the grove, were two chains, one with a damaged, gold-chased acorn, the other a shiny thimble.
"They were wrongfully taken from you and the Wendy lady when you were held against your will. We return them to you, in the hope that they will go some way to alleviate the debt of shame we owe you, for my daughter's behaviour."
Closing his fist over the tokens of love, Peter looked up at the Chief, matching him stare for stare, then nodded.
"What has happened to the Princess?" He asked, his eyes not leaving the Chief's.
He waited for the translator, then received the reply.
"She is no longer a threat to you or yours, Peter Pan. She has been married to Grey Wolf and sent to live on the other side of Neverland, to my brother's tribe. She is forbidden, on pain of death, to return to these forests without your express permission."
"I see.... a just and wise punishment, Chief. In the spirit of friendship, I renounce my vow of revenge against your daughter."
A look of intense relief passed over the Chief's face at Peter's words, his brown eyes losing their bleak expression, his wide mouth actually tilting up at the corners for a brief second.
"You are generous as always, Peter Pan. I hope we have many great battles together and that you will bring your Wendy to meet with my wife, and the women of our tribe, when she returns."
"You do me great honour Chief. I will bring Wendy to see you very soon."
After bowing to the Chief, Peter rose to his feet and left the Indian's, making his way over to the Pirates and Mr.Smee.
"You still look a mite peaky lad." Smee announced, peering into Peter's face as if looking for divine inspiration. Frowning at the old man's fussing, Peter shrugged.
"I'm going home Smee......is there anything I should know about the preparations for tomorrow?"
"Nothing I can think of.....everyone is agreed. Tomorrow, the lad's here will pack up their gear and move inland, to the Boneyard, there to meet up with the Indians. Then they proceed to the rendezvous and await your arrival."
"Sounds set...I'll see you tomorrow evening then...good luck."
Taking his leave of the remaining people still milling around, Peter launched himself into the air, his body still sluggish, and flew slowly back to the treehouse. As he passed near the waterfall, he swooped down and alighted on the same rock he'd used to show off his diving prowess to Wendy. The water from the falls sprayed him with cooling droplets and he stood for a long time letting the water sleuce over him, drinking in the sweet liquid as it soothed his parched throat and dry mouth.
Unwittingly, as he soaked, he remembered his induction to the world of manhood, his body tingling as he recalled the flow of power that seemed to transcend the physical and transport him to a world he never imagined in his wildest dreams. And all because of a thimble. Thinking of Wendy made his blood flow south, his body reacting in a familiar way, his lips curving into a smile that could melt rocks.
Refreshed and renewed, Peter sprang into the air, his clothes streaming water as he sprinted away, his body twisting and gliding in a wondrous display of aerial mastery. When he reached the treehouse he headed straight for the sleeping hut, shedding wet clothes as he walked into the room, until naked, he crawled onto the bed, his face coming down to rub against the silky fur, like a cat marking its territory, but in this case it was the reverse. Peter rolled and rubbed himself all over the bed, absorbing its scents, marking it with his own, his face eventually coming to rest in the rumpled pillows. When he closed his eyes he could almost imagine that Wendy was there with him, his fingers stroking the strands of fur, imagining them to be her hair. The pillow under his cheek still retained her sweetness and Peter hugged it close, inhaling the faint essence-of-Wendy.
Despite all of the reminders, it still wasn't an adequate substitute for having her there, his body vibrating in frustration as he tossed and turned, sweat beading his skin and matting his hair.
Finally, unable to ignore his over-stimulated body, Peter crawled from the bed. Padding to the room next door he found dry clothes, pulling them on carelessly, his body, still uncomfortably aroused, hindering his efforts to dress quickly. Outside it was full dark, the stars blazing in the cloudless sky, their brilliance giving him enough light to fly by. He was going to see Wendy, surprise her at the Crystal Grotto. He simply couldn't bear to be apart from her any longer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was getting hotter and a red light seemed to be coming from ahead of her. Wiping her brow on her damp shirt sleeve, Wendy walked on, her feet carrying her towards the glow coming from a hole in the crystal rock floor. She had no idea how long she had walked, her feet had worn blisters that now bled, leaving small circles behind her on the glassy surface, marking her passage through the cave system. She had left the path somewhere behind her, her feet, a mass of pain, masking the moment she left the marked path and started to wander among the caves natural wonders. Her throat burned as she came closer to the vent, heat shimmers distorting her vision and warning her that gases were rising into the cave and poisoning her air supply. Weary beyond belief, Wendy stopped, her eyesight blurring as a wave of heat beat at her face, her shirt sticking damply to her back and breasts. She felt a trickle of sweat run down the back of her leg, tickling her skin and making her want to scratch. It was followed by another in quick succession, her body desperately trying to cool her down in the suffocating heat. It all became too much, Wendy finding her legs collapsing under her as she stood there, her wavering gaze fixed on the red glow. As she lay on the hard floor, her brain started an argument for and against staying where she was. On one hand, she told herself, she was glad to have light at last. On the other, she reasoned, she knew that she would die soon from heat stoke and dehydration if she stayed near the vent. Unable to reach a decision, her mind decided to go unhelpfully blank. Groaning, she closed her eyes, shutting the red light off. She just needed to rest, just for awhile.
"Peter......"
With his name on her lips, Wendy slipped loose from the conscious world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Tink ? Wendy ?" Peter cupped his hands around his mouth to call again, his eyes sweeping the area outside the grotto where he knew Tink would have brought Wendy, to camp for the night. Long shadows painted the grass, stretching long fingers towards the opening of the cave system, the narrow entrance like a black slash, cut into the cliff face. He looked at the ground, seeing nothing to indicate that TinkerBell and Wendy had ever been near the cave. With his hands on his hips, Peter scuffed at the ground, his brows knitted in a frown.
A rustle in one of the bushes near the cave entrance drew his attention, Peter pulling out his dagger, in a fluid move of pure reflex. Stealthily he approached the scrubby bush, the animal behind it oblivious to his approach.
Growling, the animal behind the shrub was intent on ripping something, its teeth gleaming faintly as Peter rounded the bush. Taking fright, the fox bared its fangs, its eyes flashing in anger. Waving his hands, Peter drove the animal off, sheathing his knife before crouching down to investigate the animals' find. It appeared to be some item of clothing and Peter felt a trickle of dread flow down his spine as he pulled the mauled fabric out into the open, its shape still not clear. Using both hands, he held it up, his shaking fingers telling him it had to be a shirt, the material ripped and torn, dark patches splattered across much of its surface. Turning around he exposed the cloth to the light of the stars, his heart squeezing in his chest, his breath coming out in short gasps. Bringing one of the dark patches to his nose he sniffed, the smell making him gag as its unmistakable sweetness assailed his nostrils. Blood. Dropping the mutilated shirt, Peter turned back to the bush, getting on his hands and knees to search for something, anything to refute the evidence laying on the ground behind him. Finding nothing he sat back on his heels, his hands resting on his thighs. The shirt was one of his, the same as the one Wendy had been wearing that morning. Now it was lying blood stained and torn in the dust.
"NO.....NO.......NOOOOOOO!"
The cry came from his heart, raw and bleeding, his eyes squeezing shut to stop the stinging tears from falling. Heaving, his lungs laboring to drag in air, Peter dropped his head to the dirt, his body folded in on itself, his fingers digging into the ground, squeezing the grit through his hands, his forehead pressed to the dust, pain lancing through his head.
Grit filled his mouth, rasping across his tongue, the taste like ashes, nauseating him. He felt numb, his heart a rock in his chest.
Sitting back up he stared blankly at the cliff face, the cave mouth a welcoming abyss for his broken heart. Getting to his feet he turned around and picked up the tattered shirt, pressing it to his face, smearing his skin with what he thought was her blood.
Watching from the fork of a tree, Tiger Lily bit her lip until it bled, to stop herself from crowing in triumph at the downfall of her enemy. She had waited long hours for this moment of revenge and she felt a surge of pure joy fill her body, until she thought she would burst. She laughed silently, hiccups racking her as she stifled her mirth, her mouth opening wide in silent shouts at the man grovelling in the dirt below her. It had been easy to steal a shirt that closely resembled the ones that Wendy wore. Applying the pigs blood had been a pure genius, the animals that arrived to investigate the smell adding the necessary touch of realism. Now Peter thought that his woman was injured, bleeding to death somewhere, possibly dead already. It was too perfect.
After adorning his face, Peter ripped off his own shirt and smeared the bloody cloth over his flesh, his fingers knocking aside the two chains with their precious cargo, and the leather thong that held Smee's ring. He created a gory pattern across his chest, ribs and arms, his hands sticky with her life blood. Through it all his face remained blank, concealing the agony that tore at his heart, the few tears that dared to fall leaving tracks in the blood covering his cheeks. Finally he tied the bloody remains around his waist, knotting it firmly.
Lifting his face to the stars, he took a last look before walking towards the cave, his knife once more in his hand, the blade glinting dully. He had seen the trail of blood leading into the black mouth and he reasoned that the animal that had killed his beloved Wendy would most likely have dragged her body into the grotto. His eyes, green chips of tortured ice, stared unflinching into the maw of darkness.
With a steady tread he entered the mouth of the cave and walked into his own personal hell.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If Peter had thought for a second, before jumping to conclusions from the presentation of, admittedly, overwhelming and very convincing evidence, he might have spared a thought for his friend, TinkerBell. If Wendy had been attacked by an animal, it was sensible to assume that TinkerBell would have flown straight to Peter and told him. But sense has a precarious hold when grief rips all your anchors away, casting you adrift in a sea of pain and loss. So it was not surprising that Peter forgot all about the poor creature, his mind also forgetting reason and logic in the face of Wendy's apparent demise.
Tiger Lily had captured the unsuspecting TinkerBell with ease, enfolding her bright light in a thick sack, then dropping the bundle into another sack, thereby rendering the creature blind and her light smothered.
Tink had heard everything that Tiger Lily said to Wendy, her tiny fists beating against the sacking that held her immobile, her wings flexing impotently as she raged against the wicked girl. Now she was using her minuscule dagger to tear a whole in the coarse fabric, her knife working slowly against the giant sized threads. As she worked, she kept fixed in her mind where she had left Wendy in the cave system, her tinkling-bell voice muted, but not silenced, in its canvas prison. Finally she managed to work a big enough hole, through the material, to allow her to squeeze out. She saw that it was now full dark, a three-quarter moon only just rising above the trees, to illuminate the silent forest around her. With a fair amount of wriggling, Tink managed to escape the folds of the sack, her wings popping free and allowing her to fly unfettered. Looking around, she saw that the sack had been left in the fork of a tree, overlooking the entrance to the Crystal Grotto. There was no sign of anyone about so she kicked at the sack, her feet hardly denting the hardy cloth, but that small retaliation was enough to make her feel a bit better. With a final kick she left the dark bag behind her and flew down to the cave mouth, her fairy senses picking up a variety of smells, one she recognised above all others as belonging to Peter Pan. She flitted about the small glade, seeing his footprints in the dust around the entrance and near a small bush, the ground scuffed and marked by several animal tracks as well. Another smell drew her attention and she flew down to investigate a dark patch on the ground. Again the scent was all too familiar to her. Blood. It could only mean one thing, given the footprints and the unique scent, that Peter Pan had been injured or worse by Tiger Lily. Horrified and unsure what to do, TinkerBell stayed near the cave entrance, her mind in a ferment. It was true that fairies had simple thought processes, but Tink was no newborn fairy that had only one thought at a time. She was older than some of the giant trees growing around her, older than some of the rocks strewn across the ground. Fairies were part of the ancient world, their ancestry a part of human myth since man's time had begun in the world. But, for all her age and experience, wisdom was a long time in the making and Tink had no pretensions to be a wise-one or elder, she was happy to be what she was, a simple fairy. Giving up the hopeless task of sorting all the information into a coherent whole, Tink decided to seek help, her light streaking off above the trees to disappearing into the night, the glade returning to its shadowed, silent self with her departure.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: All Because of a Thimble
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: Eleven - Worm's Tongue
The threads start to pull together...but a few knots still present a problem....or three.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sound of cannon fire woke Smee from a sound sleep, his eyes snapping open as the unmistakable whine of an incoming missile sounded from the not-to-distant coast. Around him the other pirates camped in the Boneyard stirred, muttering breaking out as they listened to the sound of the bombardment. They had managed to salvage very little from their ruined village, the sight of their shattered homes firming the resolve of those that had been wavering in their decision to join the alliance with the Indians and Peter Pan.
"Sound's like its coming from the Oyster Pinnacles."
"That's daft, why would Hook be blasting the Pinnacles...there's nothing there but......the Pinnacles."
Smee listened as his companions argued over the probable target getting a pasting from the Sea Witch.
The boom and crump of the cannon fire provided an uneasy background to Smee's thoughts as he chewed on the end of his unlit pipe. The weak morning sunlight that filtered through the silver birch, which gave the Boneyard its name, barely warmed his face as he turned it towards the sky.
Smee stared at the dark clouds swirling above the crater of the volcano, its slopes dark with the shadows cast by the thunderheads building above the peak. They had seen many strange events since arriving at the island, the recent activity at the volcano, when Peter had been maturing, had been a timely reminder that they had an active geothermal hotspot right on their doorstep. Smee even remembered the peculiar weather that had produced an instant, swirling storm of snow and a red sky when Hook had fought Peter Pan on the Jolly Roger after trying to poison TinkerBell. It all led Smee to ponder an interesting idea. What if Pan and the island were somehow related? As preposterous as it sounded, Smee had to admit that, given the unique nature of Neverland, anything that would normally be considered strange and unusual, could be quite normal on an island where children appeared to never age...that is, until now.
He recalled Peter mentioning that Hook had tried to convince Wendy that there was something between Peter and Neverland.
Looking at the clouds again, he wondered about the episode Peter had experienced at the meeting, the previous afternoon, and how that related to all the strange goings-on. The clouds had been there when they'd returned from the shattered remains of their former homes that morning, rain making their trek to the Boneyard as uncomfortable as possible. Now the rain had eased up, but the clouds had grown and shrouded the volcano's peak, their colour a putrid purple and black that occasionally sparked with a flash of lightening, if you waited patiently enough.
It was all very worrying.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peter stood looking down at the strange tracks marking the rock floor. His initial foray into the Crystal Grotto had afforded him very little to go on in his search for his Wendy. On entering the cave, while still able to see, he first found a narrow stalactite hanging from the ceiling like a needle. Snapping it off, he gripped the pointed end and walked over to the cave wall, striking the crystal against the wall to activate the special nature of the crystalline structure. As he watched the stalactite tip started to glow with a cold, blue light that grew in intensity as he turned to enter the system of caves, his eyes on the floor, following the blood trail.
He felt nothing as the blue light of the natural torch turned the red blood to black, the streaks continuing into the caves. Numbly he followed, his brain finally pushing the grief to one side to attempt an analyse of the evidence now in front of his bewildered eyes. The blood trail had ended, but not with the mutilated body of his Wendy, but the bloody carcass of a wild pig.
"What the hell!"
Crouching down he reached out a hand to touch the bristly fur, his finger tips dipping into the animals entrails as they spilled onto the glassy floor, the blood already congealed and cold.
"Who would go to this much trouble to make me think Wendy was dead?"
Standing up, Peter stared into the shadowed depth of the cave that stretched into the blackness ahead of him. He frowned, casting a look back to where he had entered, the entrance lost in the twist and turns of the chambers, before resuming his contemplation of the black shadows cast by the steady blue light in his hand.
"If they wanted me to think Wendy was dead....and she's not, at least not in the way I thought....where is she?"
Stepping around the dead pig Peter walked forward, his eyes now sweeping the ground for any other signs of recent activity. In a patch of crystal dust he found the clear imprint of a foot. It was small and the outline blurred, as if encased in soft leather. "A moccasin..." Peter whispered, crouching down to look closer. Compared to his own bare feet the print was small, almost childlike, and narrow. "Whoever she was...she was here today."
Rising once more, Peter held the crystal torch higher, the light spreading in a blue arc around him. Carefully he walked forward, searching for more tracks, his keen eyes finding and following the faint trail until he reached the official path of crushed crystal and the tracks became blurred with another set of prints, also very recent, but this time of a bare foot, also feminine in size and shape. At last he had evidence that Wendy had entered the cave, but if so, had she left it. Working his way back and forth along the path he found that her footprints only went in one direction. Deeper into the crystal caves. As he searched further he found that the moccasin prints both entered and returned along the pathway. Smiling grimly Peter followed Wendy's tracks, reaching the gallery of stalagmites and the small archway. Here the tracks were many and interwove as they passed over each other and went indifferent direction. It took him precious minutes to sort the scuffed marks out, his attention drawn to the ones that led further into the cave system, instead of heading towards the entrance. Whoever owned the moccasins had hidden, off the trail, before returning to the entrance. Wendy's appeared to circle back on themselves, veering off the path and wandering around among the strange formations. It appeared that Wendy was either injured or very confused, her trail leading further into the depths of the grotto.
As he followed her, Peter's fears for her safety increased, his mind registering the increase in temperature as he continued his quest to find her. At one point he stopped and shouted, his voice echoing around him until it faded away, Peter waiting for any sound to tell him Wendy had heard or was near. Getting no answer he carried on, the trail leading him through caverns that reflected the blue light of his torch with a display of sapphire sparks as he passed. Soon he noticed a trail of spots marking her passage, the blotches becoming big and black as the blisters on her feet bled freely while she limped onwards. The heat was now making him sweat, his hair drenched and sending drips down his caked face, smearing the dried blood that flaked off his skin. A red glow was now competing with his torch for pre-eminence, the walls taking on a lurid tinge as he approached an entrance to a cave that cast red shadows across his body. The heat was now suffocating as he followed the bloody footprints towards the glowing hole in the floor. Coughing, his eyes stinging, Peter saw that the tracks suddenly stopped, smeared and blurred as if dragged across the surface of the rock. Looking beyond, he couldn't see anything marking the smooth surface that reflected the red glow like a translucent mirror. It would appear that Wendy had come this far and no further.
Circling the area, he found nothing, no tracks or blood, to tell him what happened to her.
"Wendy!"
The heat drove him back from getting to close to the vent, his eyes stinging from the fumes, forcing him to retreat.
"WENDY!"
Exhausted from the trauma of his rollercoaster emotions, Peter dragged himself from the red chamber, escaping to the relative chill of the next cavern, his body sinking to the floor as despair closed his throat and brought tears to his eyes. Using the heel of his hand to dash them away, he sat with his knees drawn up and his head resting on his folded arms, his brain too tired to process any answers to this latest riddle.
He must have dosed, his head jerking up when a pebble hit him on the leg. Bemused and not a little confused, he reached down and picked the round missile up, another coming out of the dark to hit him on the arm, proving the first no coincidence.
"Who's there....show yourself?"
Getting to his feet, Peter drew his knife and stood with his back to the wall in a fighting stance. Another pebble found its mark, hitting him on the cheek and drawing blood from a small cut.
"Come out and fight me fairly......hiding is a cowards way!"
"Put away your shiny blade and I might choose to reveal myself."
The voice was gruff and raspy, like someone with a really bad cold. Peter looked for the source but could see little beyond the dying glow of his crystal torch.
"Who are you, to skulk in these caves?"
"I might ask you the same question, gangling. Who are you to trespass on my domain so freely?"
"Your domain!" Peter swung his blade in a slow arc as he tried to catch sight of the cave dweller.
"Yes gangling, my domain, as granted to me by the great Worm Tongue himself."
A shout of laughter from Peter echoed around the chamber. "Now I know you are mad...Worm Tongue is the name for a funny shaped rock, not a person."
"You question me boy? But enough of this banter... why are you here, what do you want?"
Still searching the darkness for the speaker, Peter lowered his blade, relaxing slightly but not completely. "I'm looking for someone who came this way, a girl,"
"Aaaah.....is she so important to you then?" Asked the raspy voice.
"She is the most important thing to me," Peter replied without hesitation, hope springing to life in his heart.
"Aaaaah....then you will be glad to know that she is safe, if not entirely well."
In front of his eyes, the wall appeared to detach and come towards him like a living rock. For a second he reared back, hardly believing his eyes then the figure entered the range of the blue torch, then Peter relaxed. In front of him stood an old man draped in ragged clothes the exact colour of the walls, a beard covering most of his lower face and a thatch of grey hair almost obscuring the rest of his face and head, only a pair of dark, inquisitive eyes clearly visible. Slowly the man approached, Peter never taking his eyes off him.
"You stare at me so, boy. What is so curious that you cannot look away?"
"Your camouflage was perfect. You were barely a few feet away but I couldn't see you."
"It is necessary to protect yourself in anyway you can when weapons are not an option."
"You said Wendy was safe......where is she!" Peter demanded, his dagger once more pointing toward the stranger.
"Impetuous youth...put that paring knife away, I will take you to her. But first....what is your name?"
"I am Peter Pan."
At the sound of his name the old man started, his eyes wide, almost fearful. "You are the Pan?"
"Yes." Peter replied, perplexed at the old man's reaction.
"Then it is true.....I didn't want to believe it, but its true."
"What's true...why are you waiting, take me to Wendy!"
Shaking himself, the old man snapped shut his mouth and turned away, his hand raising to wave at Peter to follow him.
His crystal torch failing, Peter followed, his thoughts in a turmoil of unanswered questions and concern for Wendy.
As they passed through several smaller caves, Peter noticed the walls and floor were no longer crystal but volcanic rock, pitted and jagged in places, smooth and black in others. The passage they followed ran almost straight, sloping steadily downwards, the sides of the cave rounded like a tube.
"Where are you taking me....is Wendy there?"
"Impatient boy....it isn't far to my home. Your young lady is there, if she is truly the one you seek."
Despite his worry, Peter had to chuckle. "How many young women do you have down here?"
Affronted, but seeing the humour, the old man reluctantly returned his smile before resuming his trek, apparently able to see in the total darkness, far better than Peter could.
The tunnel finally widened and lead into a large cave. The old man approached the wall and Peter saw him crouch down, followed by a rasping sound before light flared, making him squint and a torch was held up, the flames smoking and sparking.
Peter cast his crystal away, taking the torch the old man handed him and waiting while he lit another.
"I have no need of these, but I keep them for visitors as they seem to have problems finding their way without light."
"How are you able to manage?"
"I know these passageways as well as I know my face. I have no need to see these walls to know they are there and what they look like."
A short walk further on and Peter saw an opening in the cave wall and a light beyond. The old man bent down and passed through the hole, Peter following. On the other side, a smaller cave presented itself, the walls dripping with every size and shape of stone formation but Peter had eyes only for the figure sitting beside a fire pit, her knees drawn up and her face turned away from him.
"Wendy?"
Startled, she turned her head, her hair swirling around her shoulders. "Peter!" As she tried to rise, Peter passed the torch to the old man and leapt across the distance between them, gathering her into his arms and swinging her around.
Laughing, Wendy clung to his neck, her arms entwined about him as he laughed along with her. As he slowed and lowered her to the floor he noticed her wince as her bandaged feet touched the rock. "What happened to you?"
"Oh Peter...someone was in the cave, I don't know who. Something's happened to TinkerBell and I got lost and it got so hot and my feet were cut from the rocks and....."
Interrupting her rambling account, Peter cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, his hunger for her setting her limbs shaking and a heat start to coil in her belly. Gasping they broke apart to stare at each other, Peter's heightened emotional state making his eyes as brilliant as emeralds. Wendy just melted.
A cough reminded them they were not entirely alone and Wendy turned to look at the old man shuffling his feet in embarrassment behind them.
"Thank you so much for bringing Peter here,"
"Nothing to thank me for....he was already half way here when I found him."
As the old man placed the torches in holders closer to the fire, Wendy took her first real look at Peter and she gasped.
"What happened to you? You look like you were in a massacre or something. Has there been a battle?"
Looking down Peter saw that the smears of blood were starting to flake off his skin and he scratched at them, smiling crookedly at her. "I thought it was your blood."
"My blood? Why would you think that?"
"Someone left a shirt, bloodied and torn at the entrance to the grotto for me to find. I thought it was yours." Reaching down he untied the scraps of material from around his waist, remembered grief darkening his eyes. Taking the shirt, Wendy looked at it, amazed that anyone who go to such length to fake her death. She felt a tug at her sleeve and turned to find the old man handing her a basin of water. Dipping a clean corner of the shirt into it, Wendy started to wipe the remains of the blood from his face, Peter standing rock still as she cleaned his face and chest, removing the evidence of the cruel deception. When she saw the chains around his neck she held them briefly in her hand, casting him a questioning glance before continuing with her task. When she finished, Peter reached up and took off the acorn chain, returning it to her and placing it around her neck. Smiling, she reached up and kissed him on the cheek, but Peter once more pulled her into his arms, pressing her to him as if trying to meld them together as one. More than content to feel his heart beating against her own, Wendy snuggled into his embrace, the pain in her feet forgotten in the warmth of his arms.
"Ahem....when you've quite finished squeezing the breath out of her body, the young lady needs to rest and let her feet heal."
Releasing her for a second, Peter swept her up in to his arms and carried her the short distance to the fire, replacing her on the small pile of skins that had been her cushion. Sitting cross-legged beside her Peter took his first real look at the cave they were in. Besides the unusual rock formations, the cave was strewn with more mundane items, many of which looked as if they belonged in on a ship with netting and barrels the bigger items scattered around. Several leather bound chests lay heaped against one wall, while boxes lay discarded in on corner, several of them broken apart for firewood.
"Who are you?" Peter asked as the old man bustled around, the smell of food filling the cave with a savoury aroma.
"What does it matter who I am....you are the Pan, she is your Wendy...the rest is irrelevant."
Exchanging a confused look with Wendy, Peter tried again. "If you won't tell me who you are, will you tell me why you're here, in these caves, and why haven't I seen you before?"
"Questions, questions...its really all quite irrelevant. You didn't see me, because I chose not to let you. As to why I am here...I told you that...Worm Tongue granted me his domain, what more is there to know?"
"But..."
"Enough....eat, drink...sleep."
Smiling at the old mans dictatorial tone, Wendy passed a bowl to Peter, who scowled at the contents, unused to being given the brush off.
"I don't know anymore than you do Peter." She whispered him, not wanting him to think she knew more than he did. "He brought me here when I was overcome by a volcanic vent. I didn't realise we were so close to the heart of the mountain here."
Sniffing at his bowl, Peter stuck a finger in and cautiously sampled the stew. Not waiting for a spoon, Peter tilted the contents up to his lips and took a mouthful. Wendy gratefully took the wooden spoon handed to her by the old man.
Having finished the bowl off, Peter waited for Wendy to finish, the old man across from the fire to them, his eyes flicking between them, his expression benign.
Next to him, Wendy had finished her stew and was drinking water from a cup, passing it to him to share. He drained the slightly brackish tasting water and passed the cup back to her. The old man continued to regard his visitors with a strange gleam in his eyes.
Wendy stared into the flames of the fire pit, her eyes glazing over as a great weariness stole over her body, her head coming to rest against Peter's arm as her eyes slowly closed. Peter was also experiencing some difficulty in keeping his eyes open, Wendy's head a heavy weight against his arm as he shifted to make a pillow for her with his body. As his eyes started to close and he slumped sideways, Peter cast a last look at the man across the fire. The old man was still sitting there, the flames casting strange shadows across his hirsute face, his eyes gleaming like twin coals as they watched his visitors slump helplessly to the floor.
"Well......that wasn't so difficult now was it?" Getting to his feet, he walked around the fire, reaching down to shake the girl, doing the same for the boy, before straightening and starting to caper around the cave in a mad dance of celebration.
"At last...I can finally end my exile....I can finally be free of this accursed place....fresh air....sunshine....the sea!!!"
Like a man half his age, Billy Boyd Runciman danced around like a spinning top, his shrieks and screams echoing back again and again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Smee saw a cloud of light flying towards him as he sat beside his fire. It was later in the morning and the sun was finally warming his arthritic knees, chasing the aches away. The clouds that had been building over the summit of the volcano had dissipated and all but disappeared leaving Smee to wonder anew about the strange weather in Neverland. Now he stood as the fairy swarm reached him, Alindra flying forward to speak while her court buzzed around in a frenzy.
"Welcome, your majesty, we weren't expecting you until later,"
"No time Smee.....no time.....something awful has happened,"
"What ?"
"TinkerBell, as you must be aware, was with Wendy when she was kidnapped and taken away by the Princess Tiger Lily, leaving Wendy alone in the caves to die."
"Are you sure?....of course you're sure, I'm daft to think otherwise...does Peter know?"
"TinkerBell isn't sure, but she thinks Tiger Lily may have injured or killed Peter as well,"
"Killed Peter?" Smee repeated, his mouth falling open in surprise.
"You must help us...and quickly. The mermaids say that Hook is preparing to storm the island anytime now and we must have Peter here or the alliance will be lost."
"What about Tiger Lily....do you know where she is?"
"I informed the Chief as soon as I knew, TinkerBell related all she'd heard the Princess say....it was all so horrible...and the Chief has promised to find her and bring her here as soon as possible but that may be too late for Peter!"
"Just hang on a minute, your majesty, I don't think that Tiger Lily has killed Peter, but he may have been tricked into a trap. There's been some strange goings-on this morning."
"You are thinking that the storm that raged around the volcano had something to do with this?"
"I do. What do you know about this island and Peter Pan?"
"I know many things Mr.Smee...but I am not at liberty to divulge those secrets to anyone but Peter himself."
"But that's just it....Peter doesn't seem to know or understand what affect he has, and I think that storm was an indication of his...feelings, or state of mind, or whatever you want to call it."
Alindra looked gravely at the old pirate.
"You are an observant man, Mr.Smee...and you are right, they were an indication, but now it has passed and still he hasn't returned, nor has Wendy......we need to find them....and quickly!"
"Fine....but I can't do this alone. You'll need to take us to this Crystal Grotto place and we'll start our search there. I'll need atleast two men with me and supplies."
"The supplies are readily available at the caves, there is water and food there already. You won't need fire as there is a secret to the caves, that I will show you....."
"Oh....alright then....I'll get a couple of the men."
Smee hurried over to the group of pirates and held a quick discussion before returning with two of them to where Alindra hovered.
"Ready when you are, your majesty." Smee's companions exchanged uneasy glances as the cloud of fairies rose above their heads and beat their wings, showering the three pirates with dust. Immediately Smee started to rise, a smile lifting his lips. Still on the ground his two volunteers exchanged another uneasy glance. Smee looked down and scowled at them.
"Think happy thoughts you fools. Now hurry."
Before long all three pirates were floating and surrounded by the cloud of fairies who led them away, flying towards the volcano.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: All Because of a Thimble
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: Twelve - All at Sea
Someone gets a lucky break...just not the someone you expect.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fanfic Update: Something different here....I've been getting some confused reviews about what's happened and how many times, so I thoughts I'd do a quick recap to bring everybody up to speed.
The story so far....
Peter returns to Neverland (directly after the end of the 2003 film) and falls into a deep sleep during which his body matures. During this time the island also appears to grow with him.
He returns to London after five (earth) years to find Wendy is now seventeen (Peter is of a similar age). They return to Neverland together.
Peter takes Wendy to see Smee at the pirate village but finds it deserted and they are set upon by one of Hook's men. Fleeing the village they alight on a beach where Mermaid's try to drag Wendy under the water. They escape and Peter takes Wendy to the Indians as she is sick from the near drowning. At the Indian village, Tiger Lily alert's Hook that Wendy is there but keeps Peter drugged and hidden for her own pleasure. Wendy recovers and is Hook's prisoner. Peter escapes Tiger Lily's clutches and rescues Wendy. Back at the treehouse, built because Peter was too big for his former home, Peter, helped by Smee, is trying to form an alliance between the former pirates and the Indians to defeat Hook. Wendy fears for Peter and he tells her he won't fight, but he lies to her. When a meeting is set to make plans, Peter sends Wendy with TinkerBell to see some local sights but Tiger Lily manages to capture TinkerBell and strand Wendy in the caves alone. When Wendy is overcome by fumes from a volcanic vent while wandering in the caves, Peter is also overcome while attending the alliance meeting. Later he misses Wendy too much and goes in search of her, but Tiger Lily has planted a bloodied shirt and Peter thinks Wendy has been killed by a wild animal, so he enters the caves to find her body. Tink manages to escape and flies to the Fairy Queen who tells Smee what has happened. Peter enters the cave and realises he's been duped. Finding Wendy's tracks he searches for her and finds an old man who is a former associate of Hook, but Peter doesn't realise this. The old man takes him to Wendy but they are given a sleeping draught so that the old man can use them to gain his freedom from exile. Smee, meanwhile is on the way to try and rescue them both.............right, everybody clear on the story so far??? Oh good.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James Hook was rapidly coming to the conclusion that his expedition was doomed to failure.
He currently stood at the helm of his ship, watching as several members of his crew strained at the ropes, while his first mate directed the lowering of a cannon to the jolly-boat waiting below.
The sinking sun was starting to shine directly in his face and he turned away to face the shore, bringing up his telescope to scan the shoreline once more. Their attempts to set up a base of operations in preparation for their pillaging of the island had proved singularly unsuccessful. When sending the first boat-load of supplies, the landing crew were attacked by a swarm of biting insects that didn't give up until every last man was swimming for his life back to the ship. When later, another crew was sent to retrieve the boat, they struck a previously hidden rock that the boat-swain swore, on his hide, hadn't been there on the way in. Now they were attempting to lower the first of the ships cannon to the waiting jolly-boat, to ferry it to the shore. A shout alerted him that something was amiss scant seconds before the unmistakable twang of a ropes snapping signalled the demise of the cannon. The sailors previously straining on the rope were scatter on their backs over the deck and the cannon, as it fell into the sea, made a sizeable hole in the jolly-boat. Pandemonium broke out as his first mate tried to restore order.
Snapping his telescope shut, Hook turned to rest his hand and hook on the wooden rail that bordered the half deck. His fingers beating a rapid tattoo as he surveyed the carnage below.
"Mr. Stretch!"
"Yes Capt'n sir?"
"I am going to my cabin....have this mess cleared up and the boat brought aboard for repairs."
Swallowing nervously, Stretch doffed his cap as the Captain descended the stairs. With a pained expression, Hook turned his back on his crew and made his way to his quarters. When the door closed behind him, his crew rushed to secure what was left of the jolly-boat and haul aboard its unfortunate passengers.
Down in his cabin, Hook sat at his desk, his head cradled on his good hand, his hook picking bits of flesh off the chicken carcass left over from lunch. From above he heard the lookout in the crows-nest call down to the deck. "Boat Ahoy!"
Ringing a bell produced his giant man-servant, Rufus, and he gave him instructions before waving him away.
On deck Stretch directed the removal of the wreckage as he kept half an eye on the approaching canoe that appeared to only have one occupant. As the tiny vessel neared, Stretch could see the paddler and he instantly turned to wave at Rufus who had appeared on deck. As he imparted the news of the canoe's owner to Hook's bodyguard, the canoe pulled alongside. When Rufus left, to convey the message, Stretch leant over the side and shouted down to the old man.
"Whatcha want here Billy?"
"I have summit' for the Captain,"
Stretch could see a canvas sack in the bottom of the canoe and he thought he saw it move. Behind him Captain Hook appeared on deck, walking slowly towards the ships rail, the crew parting like water before him. Looking over the side, Hook stared at the old man for a moment before turning away. "Now there's a face I didn't expect to see. Get him aboard, I wish to speak to that man."
Saluting, Stretch ordered the rope ladder to be lowered and Billy Boyd Runciman climbed aboard the Sea Witch. Hook had walked slightly away, his hand and hook clasped behind his back.
"Didn't expect you to have the balls to come back Billy?"
"Nice to see you again Captain. I've done what you wanted, I've got it here....I wants me freedom...I wants you to end me banishment."
"That's alot of wants with little to show in trade." Hook rounded on the old man, taking in his bedraggled appearance with a well practised sneer. "You seem the worse for wear,"
"What do you expect? I've been immured in a cave for the last how-many-years....I wants out!"
"I'm not sure you've served your time for the crimes you committed."
"You're a hard man, Captain, which is why I brought you a present...a token of my repentance to sweeten the pot, you might say."
As Billy turned to indicate his canoe, two sailors finished carrying the canvas sack up the side of the ship, one of the men receiving a kick from the bags occupant. In retaliation, they dumped the bag at Hook's feet with more force than necessary, a muffled scream from the bag indicated that the captive was unmistakably feminine.
"What fish have we caught today?" Hook pondered, reaching down with his hook to slice open the top of the bag. As the material parted he saw a mass of long brown hair partially obscuring the features of a gagged and very angry Wendy Darling. "Oh my...catch of the day, no less!"
Kneeling down on one knee, Hook used his sharpened appendage to slice the bag completely open, revealing Wendy bound hand and foot. With the tip of his hook he carefully picked the hair away from her face, receiving a flashing glare for his pains. "How nice to see you back on board again. I'm afraid I can't offer you the same hospitality as last time, it was frightfully abused, but I'm sure we can make your stay with us just as exciting." Receiving only muffled screams for a reply, Hook rose to his feet and turned to Rufus. "Take the young lady to the brig and keep her bound. I'll have further instruction for her keep....later."
Rufus stepped forward and picked Wendy up as if she weighed a feather, slinging her over his shoulder so she hung head down, her hair almost reaching to the deck.
Without watching to see his orders carried out, Hook turned back to Billy.
"Now what am I supposed to do with you?" He appeared to think about it for several seconds, Billy's face a picture of eager anticipation. "Ah yes...I know....string him up boys and let him dance above the decks for our entertainment!"
Before any of the pirates could lay a finger on him, Billy whipped out a knife and swung it in a wide arc, the nearest pirates stepping back to avoid being gutted.
"You're a treacherous snake Hook....and I was expecting as much. I have another prize, tucked up safe and sound, that I know you would consider more valuable than the wench!"
"Now who could you mean....." Hook play-acted surprise, stringing Billy along. "Not.....Peter Pan?"
Grinning widely, Billy nodded his head, his eyes flicking from Hook to the surrounding sailors.
"Where do you have the boy stashed Billy?"
"Now if I tell you that.....you'll just slit my throat and take the boy anyway.....I want some guarantees."
As if bored with the proceedings, Hook yawned, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. "What are your demands?"
"Safe passage off this accursed island," Billy announced.
"Don't we all," muttered Hook, too quiet for anyone to hear.
"And...and I want a share of the treasure."
"Treasure?...what treasure would that be?"
"Peter Pan's treasure...everyone knows about it...its a well known fact the Pan has a hoard somewhere on the island...I wants a share of that."
"Why didn't you get the information out of the boy yourself, if you have him trussed up as you say?"
"He's too stubborn...and you have the ship I need, to get off this rock."
"Practical as ever, Billy." Hook appeared to think over the proposal while his crew waited. "Agreed. You take two of my men and they'll help you bring Peter Pan back here."
"I'm warning you Hook...any funny business and I'll take the secret of where Pan is to the grave, then you'll never get to torture the wretched brat."
"And that would never do. I said I agreed......how long before you can have Peter Pan here?"
"An hour, maybe two. Depends on the tide and whether I get back to him in time."
Giggling, Billy opened his mouth, exposing his yellowed teeth and howled in laughter, the pirates nearest him backing away in fear of catching his madness.
Giving orders to two of his crew to follow Billy in the second row boat, Hook watched the mad old man climb down and paddle away, heading back the way he'd come.
"Stretch?"
"Yes Capt'n sir?"
"Make sure the look-out keeps a sharp eye...I want to know the second they come back."
"Right you are sir,"
With a last glance at the departing boats and a squint into the setting sun, Hook headed for the hatchway to the lower decks, keen to inspect his newly acquired spoils.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wendy struggled against her bonds, her tongue trying to push the scrap of cloth away from between her teeth but it proved fruitless, her lips only becoming more chafed and sore the more she tried. The giant had dropped her with little ceremony into the darkened, smelly hole that served as a brig. Her shoulder had hit the wooden planks when she landed, pain lancing through her as she rolled, her hair becoming snagged and tangled around her neck.
She'd only been alone for a matter of minutes when a light appeared, moving towards her, the lantern throwing striped shadows across her body from the bars securing her prison.
She watched as Hook came close to the bars, holding the lantern high so that it shone clearly on her face. Wendy could only glare at him and bare her teeth as he inspected her from top to toe and back again.
"Such a shame you had to run away so quickly the last time. I'm sure we would have dealt famously together. You, with your wit and beauty, me, with my cunning and devilry...we would have been well matched."
Wendy tried to rail at him behind her gag, but it only came out as choked moans, her eyes closing in frustration as she struggled again.
"I can see you in some discomfort....can I trust you not to bite if I remove that offensive rag?"
Mistrusting his motives, Wendy shook her head and tried to shuffle backwards, her hands rubbing painfully against the rough wooden floor. Ignoring her silent protest, Hook hung the lantern on a nail and opened the barred door. He leant down, a knife Wendy hadn't seen in his hand, slipping between her cheek and the cloth to slice through the gag and release her mouth. The relief for Wendy was excruciating, her mouth staying open as her bruised lips tried to go back to their normal shape and position before the punishing gag. Once more Hook leant down, this time pushing some of the hair tangled around her face and neck away, her wide eyes never leaving his as she lay pinned to the floor in an agony of suspense.
"Don't touch me," she managed to hiss, her lips too swollen to manage more than a whisper of sound.
On the pretext of combing the fingers of his good hand through her hair, Hook got a grip on her scalp and pulled her almost upright by her hair alone, tears springing readily to her eyes from the pain. Wendy gasped, her chest heaving in short panting breaths as she tried to ride out the pain of his cruel grip.
"I think I am the one to judge whether I can touch you or not." In a repeat of the time in the first mates cabin, Hook intercepted a tear with the tip of his artificial hand and lifted the salty offering to his lips. "As sweet as nectar." He announced, grinning at her like a cat that has a mouse just where he wants it.
Letting go so abruptly that Wendy's head fell back and hit the floor, Hook rose to his feet and stepped back, his hand and hook coming to rest on his hips as he stared down at her.
"You'll make a pretty bait to torment Peter Pan with....I can't wait to see his face when I bring you out and parade you in front of him." His face, a mask of cruel anticipation, made Wendy close her eyes and turn away, the tears caused by his rude handling drying on her cheeks.
"You cannot be so heartless," she whispered, sucking in a breath past her dry lips to calm her racing pulse.
Leaning down, Hook thrust his hook at her face, bringing it to within inches of her nose. "Do you think I consider this a mark of affection?" He let the light catch the wicked curve, before standing up again, his eyes glittering like silver. "I owe Peter Pan for the loss of my hand and for the loss of my freedom. I want to make him pay a thousand times for my injuries....and you are going to help me do that."
Satisfied that he had tormented her enough, Hook left the brig, the door clanging shut behind him. "I will return later...when we can discuss my plans for our future together....adieu!"
Wendy listened to his footsteps retreating, the light of the lantern fading and leaving her in the stinking blackness once more. She could hear water lapping somewhere above her, which put her below the waterline. In an agony of body and mind she struggled to sit upright again, panting heavily between each effort. Finally she had her back against the bulkhead, her hands still behind her, so tightly bound that she had lost feeling in them hours ago.
"Oh God...please take care of Peter for me....I'm so sorry....so sorry,"
Overcome with the helplessness of their situation, Wendy wept in silence, the tears unseen in the inky black of the brig.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peter struggled, the water starting to creep up his chest, the waves splash into his mouth despite his best efforts. He'd been chained to the traitors rock for some time, the sun, when he awoke, still high in the sky, the water only up to his waist but chilling in its implication. Now the sun was setting and the water was hitting his chin. He hadn't seen who'd put him there or what had happened to Wendy, but it was a fair bet the old man had a large part in their current predicament. He pulled again at the chains attached to his wrists, the water slapping against his back as he strained. A wave hit the rock, splashing his face, salt water stinging his eyes. As he shook his head, to stop the water from dripping down his face, he saw something in the distance before it disappeared in a splash. He twisted his face away as another wave broke over the rock and soaked him. As he spat out the salty water a dark head suddenly surface in front of him, her seaweed eyes meeting his sea-green.
"What the Pan doing on this rock?"
"Free me and I'll tell you,"
The mermaid pouted at Peter, her long hair swirling around her as she swished her tail. Despite his earlier brush with the two that had tried to drown Wendy, Peter knew that not all the merfolk agreed with what had happened. The one currently circling his rock was a mermaid he'd seen when he played his pipes in the mermaid lagoon. She often swam up to him, splashing him playfully before swimming away to find a rock to bask on while he performed on the pipes, or told them a story. Mermaid's loved stories, often bartering information in exchange for a story, never allowing Peter to leave until he told the whole, right to the end.
"Tell me then I free you," the mermaid teased, flicking her long hair away from her shoulder and glancing at him from the corner of her almond eyes. Peter groaned, water now lapping at the underside of his chin, forcing his head up to keep his mouth and nose free.
"If I'm not freed soon there will be no stories....or music, ever again,"
The mermaid continued to circle the rock, her body dipping under the water, her long nails dragging over his body as she passed, her wake making small waves that washed against his throat. A big wave broke over the rock, drowning Peter, his head disappearing in the wash as he struggled to keep himself up. He felt sharp nails dig into his torso as the mermaid lifted him up to clear his head. Coughing, his nose and eyes streaming, Peter gulped in air, the mermaid surfacing scant inches from his face, her liquid eyes staring into his before moving down to focus on his mouth.
"The Pan will drown...very soon."
As if hearing the mermaids words, a wave submerged the rock, covering Peter entirely. With his head under water, the mermaid moved forward, her lips covering his mouth, her gills forcing air into his lungs as her mouth moved over his. When the water receded, so the mermaid did too, her mouth leaving his as he strained to keep his face out of the water.
"Don't drown Pan," the mermaid whispered.
"I'm trying not too," Peter whispered back, watching as the mermaid disappeared under water, her hands feeling their way down his legs to his feet and the ropes that bound them together. Looking up, Peter could see clouds gathering, heavy and black and threatening, the sinking sun painting them a lurid purple and red. Gasping, he tried to raise himself higher but the chains held his arms too wide and he couldn't get any leverage, his bound legs numb from the cold and lack of circulation. Another wave swamped him and he held his breath for as long as possible before blowing out, finding the mermaid back as he lost the last of his air, her lips caressing his in a life-giving kiss.
When the water receded, the mermaid released him, her webbed hands keeping his head just above the waves.
"I have freed you Pan. Move legs,"
"I can't feel them....they're dead,"
"You will die Pan if you don't move,"
Above the traitors rock the sky started to roil and curdle, flashes of lightening piercing the sudden gloom, the wind whipping the sea into a froth. As another wave broke over his head, Peter glanced up and almost swallowed a lungful of water before having the presence of mind to shut his mouth. The clouds above him were swirling in a tight circle, whipping around into a downward pointing cone of clouds that formed a funnel of air. As it touched the water it sucked up the sea, reducing the level of water around the traitors rock dramatically. Free to breath at last, Peter closed his eyes and concentrated on his legs, willing them to move despite the cold and lack of blood. The mermaid, frightened by the water funnel, had swum away but now she returned, diving down to get a rock to break his shackles. Luckily for Peter the metal was old and succumbed to the mermaids pounding, springing open so suddenly his body almost dragged him under the water again before he grabbed for the rock with cold fingers, the sea water stinging his wrists and making him hiss in pain. As she worked on the other chain, Peter felt life returning to his feet, the pins-and-needles excruciating but a welcome. All around the rock the water funnel continued to suck up the sea, the clouds rolling and flashing, creating a hellish scene as the mermaid bashed the rock repeatedly.
The chain finally gave and Peter found himself floating free, the mermaid supporting him in the water until his arms regained their strength. No longer needed, the water spout dwindled to nothing, the water returning in a rush that swamped the rock and hid it from view completely. With his head resting on the mermaids shoulder, as the circulation returned to his arms and legs, Peter watched the clouds above stop their violent heaving and start to evaporate away, star's appearing as they parted.
"Pan all well again?"
"Pan is alive, thanks to you,"
"You tell me story now?"
Grinning, Peter twisted away, his arms and legs feeling tired but getting stronger every second. The mermaid grinned back at him, her body circling around him, her tail caressing him like kelp.
"I have to tell you that story later.....I have to find someone and then I can tell you a story."
"Who Pan have to find?"
"Wendy."
"I know something about the Wendy."
Treading water, Peter stared at the mermaid.
"What do you know?"
"What you give for information?"
"As many stories and music as you can listen to in a lifetime,"
As if considering his offer, the mermaid put her hands behind her head and stroked her long hair, her eyes half closed.
"Agreed...the Wendy is in the ship,"
"Hook!"
"There is more....men are coming for you...coming to take you to ship."
"Then I must leave here before they arrive."
"Pan fly?"
"Yes....but I won't forget our bargain,"
"Pan bring Wendy for stories?"
"That's a promise."
Concentrating his strength, Peter felt his body start to rise, getting lighter the more he thought about Wendy and all they'd shared. Once he was free of the sea he hovered, blowing a kiss goodbye to the mermaid before shooting off, his body streaming water, back towards the forest of Neverland and a rendezvous, long overdue.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: All Because of a Thimble
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter : Thirteen - Hooked
Looky looky, here comes Hooky!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wendy heard voices whispering outside the door leading to the brig. She must have dozed off for a minute or two, because she was lying on her side, her cheek pressed to the planks, where before she distinctly remembered leaning back against the hull. The Sea Witch had been rolling in a stiff swell for the last few seconds and Wendy was glad she had excellent sea-legs. Tilting her head slightly she could see a light shining under the ill-fitting door and she tried to make out what the men were saying.
"It's an ill omen to have a woman aboard," hissed one, Wendy barely able to make out the words.
"You wanna be the one to tell the Capt'n?"
"He'd never know it was me that slit her throat,"
"After all the trouble he's put us through to get the wench?"
"Yeah....but you saw that storm come up out of the blue...and just as quickly die down....its witchcraft I tells ya!"
"But she's trussed up in there like a damn chicken....how did she conjure up that storm?"
"I don't know.....but its still bad luck to have a woman on board and I reckons she a witch....why else would Hook be so keen to have the baggage?"
"Maybe because she the first decent piece of stuff we've had on board since Tortuga. Who cares....she's the Captains property and you mess with her at your peril."
"Rubbish....if she ain't a witch...there's no reason we can't take a peek at her....is there?"
The door leading to the brig slowly opened and two figures stood on the threshold, one holding a lamp, the other a knife. Wendy kept her eyes closed, the light from the lamp coming close, being swung back and forth to illuminate her bound body.
"Tidy piece she is.....they say she managed to fell Tom Rudd with one blow when she escaped last time."
"Hah....Tom was an old woman....and now he's dead, didn't survive the cat."
"We won't either if we're caught here!"
"Get away with ya....I'm going to see what all the fuss is about."
Wendy kept her eyes closed, hearing one of the men leave, the other still shining the light over her. She could smell him now, his body odour strong enough to peel paint, Wendy finding herself hard pressed not to gag. Feigning sleep, she peeped through her lashes as the man crouched down, his hand coming through the bars in an attempt to reach her. Keeping herself from cringing, Wendy stayed still.
"Damn....I want to see your face...."
As she lay trembling on the floor, Wendy heard the pirate use his knife on the lock, the metal barred door swinging open after only a few seconds.
The light from the lantern was almost blinding her when it was placed by her head, the heat warming her chilled face. The man seemed content for the moment, just to look at her, his stare almost palpable as she waited to find out what he intended to do next. As if sensing her tension, the pirate reached out a hand that Wendy was unable to avoid flinching from. With a grunt, the man grabbed her arms and flipped her onto her back making her cry out as pain shot through her shoulders and arms, her back arching to try and bring relief to her tortured limbs.
"Keep you filthy hands off me!"
Ignoring her cry the man reached over and pulled her hair away from her face, despite Wendy twisting her face away from him.
"I want to see what bewitches the Captain....so keep still wench."
Ignoring him, Wendy drew up her knees and tried to turn her body away but he held her pinned to the floor with a cruel hand on her shoulder. As she glared at him, the pirate ran his eyes down her body, taking in the stained and rumpled shirt pulled taught against her breasts, her skirts pulled up above her knees.
"You are a witch," the man breathed, his tongue coming out to wet his lips. Horrified, Wendy screwed her eyes shut, her face straining away as the man lowered his face to hers. A gurgling sound made her open her eyes again, her mouth opening to let out a scream.
The pirate that had loomed over her now stared down at her with sightless eyes, a sword blade protruding from his throat, the blood gushing out of the wound as the sword withdrew, the corpse slumping over Wendy's prone body. She screamed again.
"Remove this piece of filth and throw it overboard for the sharks,"
Wendy felt the weight taken off her, her eyes lifting to clash with Captain Hook's as he wiped his bloody blade on a cloth before returning it to its scabbard.
"That was unfortunate....but not entirely unforseen."
Wendy could only stare at Hook, her eyes wide and shocked in her pale face. As his men removed the body top-side, Hook knelt down and rolled Wendy over onto her face, slicing her bonds and freeing her hands and feet. As the blood rushed into her starved limbs Wendy gritted her teeth and moaned, drawing her knees up and turning her back to the room.
"I will have you removed to the first-mates cabin and send Cooky to dress your wounds."
"Such consideration, Captain Hook. I assure you it is unnecessary and unwanted," Wendy spat over her shoulder.
"Tsk...don't spar with me girl....co-operate and your situation will improve greatly."
"I won't co-operate and I don't need your pity...."
"Silly chit.....it's not for you to decide anyway...Rufus?"
"Yes Capt'n?"
"Take Miss Darling up to the cabin. Make sure she has everything she needs and send Cooky to see to her."
"Yes Capt'n."
Once more Wendy found herself picked up as if she weighed nothing and placed over the giant's well-muscled shoulder, her still painful hands and feet protesting and making her want to weep. Biting hard on her lip she kept the tears at bay, refusing to give Hook a reason to pity her further. The journey to the cabin was mercifully brief and Rufus laid her gently down on the bed. Wendy, laying on her back and trying hard not to cry, surprised a look of concern in the man's brown eyes before he turned way and left her alone. The door locked firmly behind him. Gritting her teeth she pushed herself up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Looking down she saw that her feet were badly swollen, the ropes having burned the skin of her ankles until they bled. Her hands weren't much better.
A sound made her turn towards the door, a small dapper man pushing the door open with his back to the room, a basin clutched in his hands with strips of cloth thrown over his arms.
"Hello miss. I've been ordered to see to your injuries."
Turning around the man used his backside to shut the door, someone on the other side securing the lock. Putting the basin down on the chest of drawers the man approached her, his eyes alighting on her wrists and ankles.
"Oh dear....those look nasty. I have just the thing to help ease the swelling and stop infection." Not waiting for an answer the fussy little man bustled around, laying the bandages on the bed before bringing the basin over and setting it on the small table beside her. Wendy watched it all with a wary eye. As she looked on, the man produced a pouch of ground herbs which he poured into the water, filling the air with their aromatic smell, stirring with his hand until it was mixed to his satisfaction. Pulling the cloth from his shoulder he reached for Wendy's hand, only to have her pull away, her stare mistrustful. Taken aback the little man paused, soaking the cloth in his hand before turning back to her.
"I'm sorry...I didn't introduce myself....I'm Jack Cook...Cooky to this rabble...I'm the Captains' chef, also the ship's surgeon." He waited, a faint smile lifting the corners of his mouth.
"You seem to be a strange pirate," Wendy raising an eyebrow and staring pointedly at his neatly starched small apron, and his generally clean and tidy appearance.
"Aaah...yes, I suppose I must rather stand out amongst those you've seen so far....but don't let appearances fool you...if my life depends on kill or be killed...I'm as blood thirsty as the next man. I just don't choose to live my life entirely by the book of piracy."
Greatly encouraged by the man's manner and candid blue eyes, Wendy held out her abused arm, her eyes dropping to watch as he bathed the wrist and soothed the hurt.
Sometime later, her hands and feet considerably better, Wendy sighed, her hand lifting to push her hair from her face, feeling as if she carried the weight of the world in dirt on her body. Jack was cleaning up his supplies, tossing the dirty water out of the tiny window, after fighting the catch to get it to open.
While he was occupied, Wendy tried to put her feet on the floor, her face twisting as they shot white lightening up her legs.
"Here....you shouldn't be trying that now....you need to give them a chance to recover." He gently helped her lift her legs back on the bed, her face registering her surprise at his kind manner.
Looking at his charge, Jack tapped a finger against his nose, a grin making years drop from his weather-beaten face.
"I know just the thing to give your spirits a lift...and it will help with the healing process as well."
"What?"
"A bath!" Jack announced, Wendy shooting him a suspicious look before wistfully wishing that it was a possibility. Her shirt stuck to her chest, a gory mess from her attacker, and she desperately wanted to get rid of the reminder.
"I don't know...."
"You don't have to know...I'm the doctor here...and I say you need a bath....excuse my forwardness...but it would help greatly."
Buoyed by his cheerful face Wendy smiled shyly back. "I would so like to get clean again."
"That's settled then.....I'll get Rufus to organise everything."
"But what about Captain Hook?"
"He left you in my charge, and said to do whatever was necessary for your comfort."
"I still don't understand why you're being so nice to me....after that...that man tried to...."
"Yes...I heard...and he paid the price for his lechery." Jack gave her a brief glance, his eyes sympathetic and understanding.
Wendy could only nod and swallow hard to stop tears springing to her eyes from his genuine concern for her.
"Leave everything to me....I won't be long."
Bemused, Wendy watched as Jack left the room, the door swinging shut behind him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peter flew over the darkening forest, his body taut with tension, his face set in harsh lines. The sky above him was painted in scarlet and orange, the colour reflecting on his wet skin like flames, his hair turned to tongues of fire. He swooped silently over the Boneyard, arriving like a golden-hued avenging angel among the men in the glade, most of them jumping to their feet in fright as Peter landed, scrabbling for their swords and pistols before they realised who was among them.
Standing with his feet apart and his arms folded, Peter surveyed the campsite. Pointing to one of the pirates, Peter gestured him forward.
"Where's Smee and the Indians?"
"Ur...well....Smee went with Collins and Beck to find you...and...ur... your young lady,"
"Damn." Peter considered for a moment, "you'd better bring me up to date."
Relaxing his stance, Peter sat down crosslegged beside one of the fires and listened while the man told him all he knew. As he thought about his next move a commotion at the edge of the grove drew all their attention to the arrival of the Indian's. The Chief sought and found Peter, coming to stand in front of him, his interpreter by his side, as Peter rose to his feet.
"It is a bad day, Pan."
"More than you can know Chief....Hook has Wendy, and Smee is not here."
"I have more news.....we have a prisoner." Turning the Chief waved forward a party of braves surrounding someone in their center. As the braves approached they stood to one side to reveal Tiger Lily in their midst. She was standing straight, her chin raised, a defiant expression on her face, uncowered by her bound hands and captive status. On seeing her, Peter bared his teeth and leapt towards her, his hands outstretched like talons. The braves guarding her immediately stepped forward to block him, six of them needed to hold the enraged youth, Tiger Lily having to step back from Peter's reaching hands, her face briefly registering shock at the naked hatred flaring in his eyes.
"You tried to kill her.....you tried to make me believe Wendy was dead...." Peter shouted, still struggling against the braves that held him firm. The Chief, a deeply grieved expression on his face, laid a hand on Peter's shoulder, holding on until Peter calmed.
"We have been dishonoured by my daughters actions...more than you can know. We understand your need to be avenged but I remind you that you revoked your rights only yesterday."
Peter swung around, his nostrils flaring as he tried to reign in his rage. "That was before last night and her attempts to end our lives."
"I understand.....and her crimes are heinous. But I hold you to that oath."
Shrugging off the Chief's hand and the braves that still restrained him, Peter glared at the disgraced Tiger Lily, his face grim.
"You are right Chief...and I will hold to my oath...but there is someone who has more right than I to enact revenge against your daughter."
As he turned to address the Chief, Peter saw Tiger Lily start and pale as she realised who Peter was referring to.
"You are referring to the young woman called Wendy."
"She has not revoked her right to revenge."
Smiling grimly, Peter turned back to face Tiger Lily, his arms crossed over his chest.
His face impassive, the Indian Chief also folded his arms across his broad chest and spoke to his people. Peter listened, the interpreter not relaying all the Chief said, just enough to convey his deep regret at the shame brought upon the tribe by Tiger Lily's actions. Casting a last glance at his disgraced daughter, the Chief turned his back on her and walked away, the braves closing in around her to take her out of the Boneyard. Tiger Lily resisted, pushing against their bodies and shrieking.
"You can't do this Father....I am a Princess....I won't be judged by this.....this.....freak!"
Finding herself lifted and carried despite her protests Tiger Lily screamed again.
"I will kill your Wendy, Peter Pan....I will fight her and I will win....she won't have you!"
Ignoring her, Peter, the Chief and the Pirates kept their backs turned until the Princess was carried out of sight, her voice still screaming protests at her treatment.
"We have to plan our assault on Hook's ship." Peter said, breaking into the embarrassed silence that followed Tiger Lily's departure.
Heaving a sigh, the Chief sat cross-legged on the ground and ran a hand over his face. His interpreter by his side.
"What do you want us to do, Peter Pan?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Smee and his two companions had reached the caves just after midday, their progress slow because of the inexperience of the two novice fliers. Smee chafed at the pace but couldn't hurry the two men any more. On the way, Alindra told Smee about the secret of the caves and the way to make light come from the rock.
When they finally alighted, TinkerBell pointed out the blood stains on the ground which Smee investigated, noting the blood trail running back into the cave.
"Let's get moving men....and keep your wits about you...this could be an ambush."
Unsheathing their swords, the three men cautiously entered the cave. Immediately, Smee broke off a hanging crystal and struck it against the rock wall, the two men behind him gasping at the bright blue light that glowed in his hand. Like Peter before them, they followed the blood trail and reached the pig carcass. Smee only had to ponder for a moment before figuring that it had been a trap, but his eyes weren't as keen as Peter's and they had more trouble finding any useable tracks to lead them forward. After spending several fruitless hours following the main track and calling, they started their journey out of the Crystal Grotto, despondent and worried.
Alindra had left a group of her courtiers behind to guard the entrance to the cave and to act as messengers if the need arose. Smee and his men finally emerged into the late afternoon sun, blinking as their eyes adjusted from the blue gloom of the caves. They collapsed, weary from the long search, the fairies buzzing around them, dropping fruits for them to eat and leading them to a stream to drink when they recovered.
"It's no good lads......it would take an army to search those caverns...we're gonna need more help."
Smee sat by the stream and hung his head, his arms resting on his bent knees as he basked in the warm sunshine, his thoughts dark and depressed. Peter was their one chance to overthrow Hook and free the island from his tyranny. With Hook gone, they could go back to their formerly peaceful lives, something Smee wished with all his heart. As he was so fond of telling Peter..he was too old for all this malarky.
The sun was starting to get low in the sky when the three men started their tramp back to the Boneyard. The fairies offered their dust but the two men with Smee flatly refused to repeat the experience of flying a hundred feet above the ground, it was just too unnerving for a landlubber of very little imagination. Smee felt the same, his thoughts very unhappy at the lack of success with his rescue attempt.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wendy was in heaven, or at least as close to heaven as a captive of Captain Hook can be. She was sitting up to her neck in bubbles in a porcelain coated hip bath, warm water soaking her sore limbs and soothing her cuts and bruises. Jack had proved as good as his word, arriving soon after he left with Rufus as his accomplice. The two men carried the ornately decorated tub into her room, Rufus almost filling all the available space, placing it at the end of the room, under the tiny window. Wendy could only stare in amazement as a steady procession of buckets followed, all filled with steaming fresh water that was scented with something that smelled divine. When the men finished Jack shooed Rufus out, who Wendy was sure was grinning as he left, and laid out a selection of large, fluffy towels that Wendy touched and found to be wonderfully soft.
"This is incredible Jack...how did you manage this?"
"Well....the Captain doesn't exactly stint on his personal comforts...even if the crew don't practise cleanliness, the Captain certainly does....haven't you noticed?"
"I've been rather too busy staying alive and in one piece to notice if the Captain is clean or not," Wendy replied rather shortly, easing herself off the bed and hobbling over to inspect the beautiful bath. Steam rose lazily into the air and Wendy sniffed appreciatively.
"What is that smell?"
"A bit of sandalwood, a hint of jasmine and a touch of vanilla."
"I don't know what to say Jack....." Wendy spread her hands in confusion.
"I've laid some clean underwear on the bed and I'll ask the Captain for another dress."
"More of the Duke's daughters' clothes?"
"I don't ask where they come from miss, I just follow orders."
"Jack..."
"There's some soap on the window sill and a brush beside the bed. Rufus is on the door so no-one will disturb you."
"I really don't..."
"You don't have to. It's a pleasure to serve such a genteel lady."
"Oh now that is doing it a bit brown." Wendy felt a smile curve her lips at the mans effusive compliments.
"I'll leave you to your bath."
With a tiny bow Jack turned on his heel and left, the door locking behind him. For a few seconds after he left, Wendy just stood, staring at the bath, hardly believing it was there. Giving herself a shake, she stripped off her shirt and stepped out of her petticoats, lifting a foot to step delicately into the scented water, her lips pulling back in a hiss as the hot water stung her grazed ankle. Soon she was up to her neck, her knees poking out of the water, soaking the grime from her skin. After several minutes of relaxing with her eyes closed, she reached for the small bar of soap, holding it to her nose to inhale the sweet rose scent before dunking her head under the water and soaping her hair into a lather.
After half an hour the water was positively grey with dirt, her hair squeaky clean and her body glowing. Looking at her fingertips she smiled at the wrinkled skin before frowning at her clean but ragged nails. Sighing, she rose from the water like Venus from the sea-shell, water streaming from her long hair as she wrung it out before stepping out of the bath. Looking at the colour of the water she grimaced, reaching for a towel and wrapping it around her body, another smaller one used as a turban for her hair. Exhausted, she sat on the bed, pulling of the turban and using it to buff her hair dry of drips. Dropping the damp towel to the floor she reached for the fine linen spread over the bed. It was similar to the clothes Hook had provided before but this time the colour was a rich apricot instead of cream. With half an eye on the door, she pulled on the shift and petticoats, the second towel joining the first on the floor in a wet heap. Her hair was next and she spent the next fifteen minutes pulling the brush through the tangles, changing the bird's nest her hair had become, to a smooth sheaf that hung down her back almost to her hips. Satisfied that she had done all she could to improve her looks and thereby her self-confidence, Wendy placed the brush back on the table and lay down on the cot, her head sinking into the soft pillows, already half-asleep.
Jack opened the door quietly, sure that his charge would be all finished, so he wasn't surprised to see Wendy sound asleep, her body turned on the side, her hair spread over the pillows like a cloud.
Taking a minute, he stared down at the lovely girl, his memory bringing up a similar face and form of a girl he'd known long ago. Breathing a sigh, Jack turned away and signalled to Rufus to bring in the buckets. While the giant emptied the bath, Jack left the room, returning almost immediately with a dress over his arm. He and Rufus exchanged a glance as he lay the scarlet dress over the end of the cot at Wendy's feet. Gold lace trimmed the neck and sleeves, gold brocade peeping from the underskirt. The material was the finest velvet, as soft as baby down. Jack smoothed the fabric, his heart heavy. The memory of the other girl spiked his conscious and he withdrew, casting the sleeping girl a last look before picking up the wet towels and helping Rufus carry the bath out of the cabin.
Oblivious, Wendy slipped into a healing sleep, her dreams all of Peter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: All Because of a Thimble
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter : Fourteen - A Twist in the Tale
Hook, line and scuppered. A ripping fight ensues over a woman, a red dress and a secret, that may or may not be revealed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Nothing too heavy tonight Cooky, a light repast for the young lady and myself," Jack nodded as he stood to receive his Captains orders for the evening. "And talking of the young lady, how is she?"
"Asleep."
"And her injuries?"
"Superficial...I cleaned them and left some salve for her to use when she wakes up."
"Excellent...up to your usual standard. Wake her in half an hour, use Rufus if she proves difficult. Have her ready by eight, no later."
"Of course....anything else?"
Jack watched as Hook ran his hand over his chin, the dark shadow of whisker's just starting to show.
"Send Clark to me...I need a shave, and before you go, lay out my red velvet coat and a cream shirt, I feel in the mood to dress up tonight."
Jack nodded, moving around the cabin to fulfil Hook's requests while the man himself pulled out a large flat wooden box. Flipping back the lid, Hook perused the contents, his fingers running over the cold metal lying within. Jack laid out the requested coat and turned to leave.
"I'll send Clark right away Captain."
"Good man." Hook appeared absorbed in the admiration of his prosthetic collection. Jack bowed and left.
An hour later he was back, knocking on the door opposite Hooks, his eyes meeting the giant bodyguards a moment before a soft voice bid him enter.
He walked in to see Wendy sitting on the side of the bed, still in her underwear but looking rested. Certainly the bedraggled waif that had been his charge before was looking more herself, her hair floating in a cloud of golden highlights in the flickering lamp light. Sky-blue eyes regarded the dapper man trustingly and Jack felt another of those pangs of conscience stabbing at his heart. Pushing the feelings ruthlessly away, he approached the lovely young woman and picked up the dress, shaking it out for her inspection.
"Captain Hook is expecting you at his table at eight."
"In that dress?....over my dead body!"
"If necessary.....its an order, not a request."
"I'm not dressing like a harlot for any man....especially Captain Hook."
Looking down at the expensive velvet, Jack crooked an eyebrow at Wendy.
"I don't know many harlots that could afford a dress this sumptuous. The lace alone is worth a years pay of any man's wages."
"Then take it and give it to someone who'll appreciate it."
Lowering the dress, Jack sighed, "It's not a matter of choice, Hook is expecting you to wear this....and he is happy to use force if necessary. You have me as a curtesy, to help you dress and look your best. But that can easily change to being dragged by your hair and dressed by Hook himself or one of the crew. Either way you will end up wearing the dress...how much your dignity and honour suffer is up to you."
He waited for a moment for his words to sink in, Wendy's eyes glistening in the lamp light, her lower lip pulled into her mouth to still its tremor.
"I don't like kow-towing to his request...but I don't really have a choice...do I?" Wendy watched as Jack shook his head regretfully.
Standing up, Wendy waited for Jack to swing the dress up and lower it over her head, the velvet settling on her body like a lover's caress. Turning around she stood as Jack laced the back, pulling the dress tight to accentuate her bosom and waist. Unconsciously, Wendy's hands smoothed the luscious fabric, the gold lace flashing in the light as she turned. Around her neck the tiny acorn on its gold chain provided the only jewellery, her hair falling in soft waves down her back. Pulling her over to the chair, Jack sat her down and moved behind her, using the brush on the long tresses until they shone, all the snarls and tangles smoothed. Next he picked up the jar of salve he'd left on the table beside the bed. As gently as possible he anointed her wrists and ankles, rubbing the unguent into her skin and soothing the lingering pain. Finished, he stepped back and surveyed the young woman before her. She looked like a queen.
Looking up Wendy caught his eye.
"You look so sad....what is it?"
"I had a daughter...much like you. She was beautiful...like you."
"What happened to her?"
"She died....she was about the same age as you when a ship sailed into our harbour at midnight. They bombarded the town, firing the houses and butchering the population. I was away, surgeon on a cutter out of Port Au Prince. When I returned I found my wife, daughter and son dead."
At Wendy's horrified gasp Jack smiled, a grim smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"I swore revenge on that ship....and its Captain."
"Did you find them?"
"No...but I spent the best of my youth on the search."
"How did you end up here?"
"That's the strange thing......I have no idea. We were sailing around the island of Grenada....a storm blew up out of nowhere. I thought the ship was going to founder, it heeled over so far, but it didn't. We survived the storm but a fog bank rose up and engulfed us. The next we knew the lookout saw this island and we arrived.
"Jack....what year did you sail to Grenada?"
"Seventeen ninety eight."
Wendy goggled at Jack, her mouth falling open.
Faintly, her hand coming up to cover her hammering heart, Wendy whispered, "that's not possible."
"I assure you it is....it was exactly ten years from the date of my daughters death."
"But...but...." Wendy spluttered, her mind whirling at his revelation. "Jack... in my world...when I left London...the year was Nineteen hundred and nine."
Now it was Jack's turn to stare. Before either of them could make a comment on the others startling revelation, the door opened and Rufus stuck his head in.
"Capt'n want's her."
As if doused by a bucket of cold water, Wendy snapped her mouth shut and stood up, back straight, her cheeks losing what little colour remained.
Still in shock, Jack stepped back to allow Wendy to pass. She threw him a pleading glance, her eyes huge in her pale face, but Jack was oblivious. Swallowing hard, Wendy left the cabin, her head held high.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hook had his back to the door when Wendy entered his cabin. The dining table that had been there on her last visit was pushed back against the wall, leaving a large expanse of bare, polished planking.
As Wendy swept into the room, Hook turned, his gaze raking her from top to toe, his eyes gleaming appreciatively.
"You look ravishing, m'dear."
"It's the dress."
"Oh its more than just the dress....there's something about you...that wasn't there the last time we met. Something...."
Blushing, Wendy inched her chin higher, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, to stop herself wringing them together.
"Whatever it is....it suits you. Can I offer you a drink?"
Despite Wendy shaking her head Hook stepped forward and held out a richly decorated glass in the venetian style, its contents as red as her dress. She took the glass, unsmiling, her eyes dropping from his intense gaze.
Hook lifted his glass and took a sip, his eyes narrowing as Wendy pointedly ignored her drink. "I could force you to drink that."
"With more threats to kill another member of your crew?"
"Maybe,"
Walking over to the table, Wendy placed the glass on its surface.
"I don't think so. You never intended to kill your ship's surgeon, or should I say, your chef, the last time.....did you?"
Hook smiled, raising his glass to her.
"Very perceptive of you, m'dear. I would have thought twice before sending Cooky to Davy Jones' Locker."
"I imagine he's a very valuable man to have on a pirate ship?"
Quirking an eyebrow, Hook lifted his glass and drained the contents, placing the empty glass on his desk.
"As valuable as a man can get on any ship. Is there a point to all these questions?"
Wendy turned to face the room, her back against the table edge.
"When did the Jolly Roger become marooned here in Neverland?"
Intrigued, Hook folded his arms across his chest. "Now what could possibly possess you to ask such a question?"
Dropping her eyes, Wendy chewed on her lower lip, unwittingly causing a flame to leap in Hook's eyes.
"I'm just curious."
"Now don't play coy. I'll play your curious game..." Hook rubbed his chin, his expression thoughtful. "I believe the date was the year of our lord eighteen hundred and five, give or take a year, its all so long ago."
"Ohh my," Wendy lifted a hand and laid it against her throat, her head feeling dizzy for a second. Hook, seeing her sway, was suddenly by her side, taking her elbow and leading her to one of the dining chairs, Wendy sitting down suddenly as her legs gave out. Hook turned and lifted the glass of wine, pressing it to her lips to force her to drink. Choking, Wendy swallowed the sweet liquid, colour surging into her face and just as quickly receding.
"Care to tell me why that date has you almost fainting?"
Pushing him away, Wendy closed her eyes for a second before opening them and staring at his amused expression.
"That was over a hundred and four years ago."
For a moment Hook stared at her blankly, then he threw his head back and laughed, his mirth continuing for several minutes before he choked back his amusement and faced her again.
"Oh Wendy....you are truly a treasure."
Indignant at his patronising tone, Wendy jumped to her feet, fire flashing in her eyes. "If you think that's funny, Jack Cook is even older, he arrived one hundred and eleven years ago...before you, or after you...its all so confusing."
Still smiling, Hook swept Wendy an extravagant courtly bow, his hand almost sweeping the floor. "Welcome to Neverland, Miss Darling."
"I don't think you understand....in London...where I came from only a few days ago..."
Hook waved his hand to stop her. "Yes I know...its nineteen hundred and nine where you come from."
Taken aback, Wendy gasped, outrage winning out over surprise.
"You spied on me.....listened to my conversation with Jack,"
"I was kept informed of your.....intentions."
Wendy swung around, her back to Hook, too furious for words. After a couple of minutes she spoke over her shoulder.
"You knew all along.......that's what you were going to tell me...the secret of Neverland."
"Well......one of them. There is a more important one even than that."
"What is it?"
Ignoring her question, Hook walked to a cabinet on the other side of the cabin. Opening it, he revealed an elaborate music box with a large metal wheel full of spikes and holes. Hook wound the handle on the side of the cabinet and music started to play. It was like bells, tinkling and beautiful and Wendy started to walk over to get a better look, but Hook intercepted her, his good arm going around her waist while his hook deftly lifted her left hand in his right before swinging her around in a waltz.
"Too much talking and not enough pleasure, Wendy Darling," Hook purred her surname so it sounded like an endearment, not just her last name.
"I don't dance with Pirates!"
"No....mores the pity....only with callow boys who don't appreciate what you have to offer a man."
"I don't know....."
"I saw you in the woods....that night you danced with the fairies,"
"You seem to make a habit of spying on me Captain."
Ignoring her jibe, Hook swung her around in the movements of the dance, their bodies melded from ribs to thigh, his prosthetic cold against the palm of her hand. Wendy tried to strain away, turning her head to avoid his penetrating stare, but his arm only pulled her closer until she felt she couldn't breath, the room spinning around her in a welter of colours and lights.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Outside the cabin window, Peter watched the couple dancing to the bell-like music. His eyes were like flint, his lips pulled back in a grimace as he followed their movements, dipping and swirling in the dance.
Behind him, canoe's floated silently across the bay and up against the side of the ship, some of them edging their way to the prow to mount an attack from that end as well. Peter was to give the signal, but first he wanted to see where Wendy was, before giving the order to attack. What he found was not what he expected.
As he stared at the woman, he knew it was Wendy but she looked so different from the girl he thought he knew. He had expected to find her injured and uncared for, possibly locked in the brig. Instead she was dancing with Hook in his cabin, wearing a scarlet and gold dress, a velvet creation that hugged her hips and the swell of her breasts and tormented any man that saw her in it. Her hair was obviously recently washed, floating around her shoulders and down her back in a cloud of gold and honey, stray strands coming to rest on Hooks sleeve, clinging in a way that made Peter's teeth grind together.
And then there was her face. As she turned towards him, Peter drank in her features, her eyes downcast, their thick lashes hiding their colour, her cheeks lightly flushed and her lips as red as cherries. In all, a woman to tempt any man and drive him insane, and she was pressed up against his arch enemy, apparently enjoying his attention for all the world as if they were lovers.
Hook helped complete the picture of intimacy by casting his partner heated looks and wide leers that left nothing to the imagination as to what he wanted to do with the lovely girl in his arms. It was all too much and Peter started to see a red haze in front of his eyes.
As the music slowed, so did the couple, their bodies swaying slowly to a halt. Wendy felt drugged, her head tilting back to stare up at the man who held her, his grey eyes gazing into hers, flames lighting in their depths as they shifted lower and focused on her mouth.
"You really are a most delectable morsel....a temptation for any man."
As her lips parted in a gasp, Hook seized the opportunity and sealed her mouth with his, in a kiss that brooked no refusal. For a second Wendy didn't fight, her hands resting on his chest, her senses drugged from the wine on an empty stomach and the whirling of the waltz. Suddenly she started to fight, her hands clenching into fist and pummelling his shoulders, head or anywhere she could reach. Her bare feet tried to make some impression on his boots but only succeeding in stubbing her toes. Hook ignored all these protest and kept plundering her mouth, his lips drawing, hungrily, the very breath from her lungs.
The splintering of wood and breaking of glass hardly intruded on his attention, so caught up in the pleasure of Wendy's pliant lips, but the roar that accompanied Peter's arrival made Hook quickly take notice, all but dropping Wendy to the floor in his haste to turn around and confront the intruder.
Peter stood just inside the shattered window, his chest heaving as he swung his sword in a slow arc, twirling it in his hand so that is rolled in circles, the blade flashing with reflected light.
"Up to your usual tricks, I see....making free with somebody else's property?" Peter quirked an eyebrow cheekily at Hook, his teeth bared in a tense grin.
"Aaaaaah....so the rumours were true after all. You have certainly gained a few inches, but I see your manner's haven't matched your growth spurt." Hook drawled, his eyes raking Peter's form. "I wasn't aware that Miss Darling was anybody's property...I didn't see a brand anywhere on that fair skin...and it is...very fair skin."
Wendy gasped at Hooks deliberate taunting. She had staggered and almost fallen when Hook released her, her skirts tripping her before she managed to reach the table and use the edge to steady herself.
"Peter...its not what you think...I didn't." She stopped and started again. "I wouldn't....not with anyone but you."
Hook cast a sly glance back at Wendy before facing Peter again.
"Me thinks the lady doth protest too much...don'tcha think Pan?"
"Leave Wendy out of this Hook......its you or me this time...no crocodile, no flying, just a fight....to the death."
"No Peter....please." Wendy's cry was lost in the crash of Peter up-ending a table to clear the way between him and Hook.
"You should listen to the young lady Pan.....before you plan my death quite so eagerly."
"Your death is long overdue." His eyes the colour of storm clouds, Peter advance on the pirate Captain, his sword balanced and ready in his hand.
Above their heads came cries and thuds as the Indians and former-pirates swarmed over the side of the ship, launching their attack on the crew of the Sea Witch. Wendy looked around for anything to use as a weapon, missing the speculative look cast her way as Hook also sought a weapon to defend himself.
"Hardly seems a fair fight if I don't have me sword...does it?"
"Wouldn't want it said that Peter Pan didn't give his opponent every consideration." Peter ground out, the tip of his rapier hooking the hilt of another hanging on the wall, the blade swishing through the air to land, hilt first, in Hook's left hand. "Now you're armed," grinned Peter, his eyes blazing with green fire.
Without giving Hook time to prepare, Peter launched a slashing attack, his sword moving quickly in a flurry of parry and thrust that forced Hook back towards the door of the cabin, the clash of metal on metal loud, as they fought their way across the room.
Wendy kept as far back as she could to make less of a distraction for Peter. She watched as the two swordsmen battled, their blades cutting and thrusting, first Peter getting the advantage then Hook.
One advantage that Hook had, was more clothes to absorb any nicks or cut that penetrated his defenses, Peter only wore a dark, wine coloured shirt and three-quarter black breeches, his belt and scabbard his only other accoutrements. Hook had his formal coat of thick brocade and his highly decorated leather belt, as well as knee high leather sea-boots to protect his feet and legs.
As Wendy watched, her eyes following every parry and thrust, she saw Hook swing his blade up, catching Peter on the shoulder, the point penetrating the shirt. Peter grimaced but didn't let up his relentless attack, bringing his blade down and slicing it across Hooks wrist, drawing blood that quickly soaked his lace cuff.
At a lull in the fight, Peter waved his blade in circles, taunting his opponent. Hook only panted, his blade steady, his eyes narrowed.
"Too cocky by half...Pan."
"Ready to give in and surrender?"
"Never in my lifetime," hissed Hook, lunging and only just missing spitting Peter on his blade as the Pan dodged to the side and parried the thrust.
Wendy could only watch, too terrified to take her eyes off the action. Particularly the lithesome form of Peter Pan as he almost danced around Hook, balanced on the balls of his feet, his muscles rippling under his damp shirt as he flexed his sword-arm, darting forward for another flurry of blows that drove Hook's back up against the door.
As they struggled, blade against blade, the Captain tried to bring his hook into play, narrowly missing Peter's neck as he was blocked by Peter's dagger in his left hand. As they circled, each trying to out muscle the other, Hook suddenly brought his head forward, head butting Peter and breaking the deadlock. Peter staggered back a step, ducking as Hook swung his sword to take his head off. Hook in his turn had to lean back suddenly when Peter's dagger, held backwards in his hand, swung perilously close to Hook's adam's apple in a vicious back arc.
Panting, both adversary's backed away, circling each other like hyena's, seeking a weak spot or opening to commence the attack. Peter now had his back to the door, while Hook was coming closer to where Wendy stood with each step. They exchanged a series of blows, in this contest evenly matched in height and experience, the blades flashing as they connected and withdrew.
Wendy, still looking for something to use to help Peter, looked away and didn't see that Hook was now dangerously close to her, his eyes flicking to where she stood, then back to Peter.
Peter saw the quick look and his eyes widened as he understood what Hook was planning. With a cry he launched a fresh attack, drawing Hook away but he found Hook more than a match and they drew back, each sporting a new cut from the exchange. As Peter withdrew, Hook danced back, bringing him almost level with Wendy. With a jerk, he pulled Wendy into his side, his hook catching her around the waist and digging into her side making her cry out in surprise and pain. As she struggled, Hook shifted his arm to bring his hook up underneath her chin, forcing her head up. Wendy grabbed at his arm but found a band of steel that she simply couldn't move. Hook still had his rapier pointed at Peter, keeping him at bay as he moved Wendy in front of him as a shield, his arm almost choking her as his hook pressed into her throat.
Peter darted forward only to stop as Hook's blade came up, his hook pressing into Wendy's neck and drawing blood.
"I believe I have the advantage now Pan," panted Hook, shifting to tighten his hold on the struggling Wendy.
"You coward......let her go....this is between you and me."
"All's fair in love and war, dear boy. I don't allow snivelling adolescents to get the best of me."
"You won't get out of this cabin alive...your crew will be lost and the ship will be mine. You're dead Hook."
"I think now would be a good time for you to tell Mr.Pan just what you've leant since you arrived on my ship, Wendy dear." Hook twitched his arm and Wendy felt blood trickling down her neck, pooling between her breasts. Peter growled and feinted, Hook knocked the blow aside and Peter retreated once more.
"I don't know what you mean?" Wendy whispered, lifting her eyes to look at Peter, her heart shining out of them.
With his lips close to Wendy's ear, Hook whispered to her, his breath hot on her skin. "Oh I think you do.......and I'll add another little bit of information to your store of knowledge.....if Peter Pan kills Captain Hook.....he becomes the next in line......and Neverland will find another Pan. The island knows this...its why he's all grown up....he will become the next Pirate Captain of Neverland."
"No,"
"Yes dear Wendy, its the truth.....so unless you want Peter to become me...with all that implies...and he will in time,.....you had better dissuade him from using me for shark bate."
Peter, tired of seeing Hook whisper intimately to Wendy, interrupted them. "What are you saying......Wendy?"
Closing her eyes for a second, Wendy stopped her struggling, her body slumping in defeat. Opening them again, she spoke.
"Peter.....put down your sword, you can't kill Hook."
"What!"
"It's true....you mustn't kill Hook......please."
"I have to kill him....to free the island and everyone on it.....he's got to die,"
"No Peter.......you can't....I beg of you....don't kill him."
"Wendy?"
"I can't explain it all....I only know bits of the puzzle, but I do know you can't kill Hook.....he's the other side of the same coin. Without him......you will become him."
Shaking his head, Peter advanced, his eyes narrowed, his teeth bared. "What lies has he been feeding you.?"
"It's not lies Peter....believe me..." Wendy pleaded, her eyes filling with tears with his look of bewilderment at her apparent betrayal.
Unable to understand, Peter lowered his blade and backed away, his eyes accusing, his face disbelieving. Above their heads the noise of the battle for the Sea Witch was dying down and feet were heard pounding down the corridor, fists banging on the door.
"The ship is taken...." came a familiar voice.
Stepping back to the door, Peter reached behind him and turned the handle, allowing Smee to push his head in, sizing up the situation.
"Ships all yours lad...the crew have surrendered. The Chief is having them tied up as we speak."
"Good work Mr.Smee....."
"So what's going on here then?"
Hook, sensing Peter's reluctant acceptance of Wendy's words, released her, pushing her to the side where she slumped to the floor, sitting numbly as the implications of her pleading for Hook's life sunk in. Absently she raised a listless hand to touch the blood marring her skin, smearing it across her throat. She knew that if Peter believed her, he would think that she was pleading for Hook's life, for reason's other than to save his own. She didn't care, Peter's life was worth more to her than her own and she'd do anything to keep him from ending up like Hook, but she mourned the loss of his trust.
"Wendy has been pleading for this....pirate's life to be spared." Peter spat out, his lip curling, every word lashing Wendy like a whip. "She seems to think that if I kill this piece of dung, I will be forced to take his place," Peter paused to release a harsh laugh, an unpleasant sound that made Wendy wince. "I will become the next Captain Hook!"
His sword lowered, but not his guard, Peter waited for Smee to refute his words, his narrowed eyes never leaving Hooks in a silent duel.
"She speaks the truth lad."
Smee's softly spoken words broke over Peter like a shower of ice, his skin prickling and stinging.
"It can't be....."
Hook, grinning slyly, pushed away from the table edge, his sword hanging loosely in his hand, his eyes wary as he circled the two men at the door.
"It's all in the balance," Hook spoke, his eyes gleaming. "Neverland was created to give children a place to dream about, to wish for and, in some cases, escape to. Everything here is for that express purpose. When you arrived, it adapted to what you wanted, provided the challenges that you needed, it embraced you, body and soul and you became its Champion, its Emperor. You are inexplicably linked to this world in ways you can never fully understand. But that was when you were a boy. Now you are a man."
Sensing the power of his next words, Hook pulled out his ornate chair and sat down, his feet coming up to rest on the edge of his desk with nonchalant ease. "You could say, her kiss, her love, her very existence has destroyed your world, as you know it......if one wanted to be a harsh critic." With his sword, Hook pointed at Wendy, still huddled on the floor, her dress like a pool of blood around her.
"I didn't know Peter....I didn't know." Wendy's whisper reaching Peter where he stood frozen by the door, Smee casting anxious looks at each of them.
Slowly, like someone finding their way for the first time, Peter spoke. "What's the alternative...if I don't kill you....I don't become you. So.....what do I become?"
Smee laid a hand on Peter's arm, drawing his attention.
"This is all too much to take in right now...you need to talk to the fairy folk....get Alindra to explain. She'll know the answers."
His gaze troubled and angry, Peter nodded to Smee's suggestion. Lifting his sword he pointed it at Hook.
"This isn't the end.......this ship is still mine," said Peter, Hook raising his shoulders in a shrug as a reply. Peter continued," You are confined to your cabin until a decision is made as to your fate."
Taking his eyes from Hook's, Peter turned his head to look at Wendy. "You are also confined to the ship....until an escort to take you back home is found."
"Peter.....no."
"The sight of you offends me," his voice coldly washed over Wendy, her eyes filling as she saw no trace of softness in his face. "I wish I'd never met you."
With a cry, Wendy covered her face, her head bent, her hair falling forward as she wept. Peter remained impassive, only his burning eyes evidence that he was hurting as much as she. Turning on his heel he left the cabin, Smee remaining behind, his expression sad and grim.
Hook remained in his chair, his sword twirling from his fingers, his head going back as he let go a shout of harsh laughter, the sound echoing hollowly around the room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~``
(Author's note: Why 1909?....orig play was 1904, Wendy was 12 going on 13....she's now 17 going on 18. Best part of 5 years according to my maths..but feel free to put me right)
Title: All Because of a Thimble
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: Fifteen - Fallout
For every action, there is a consequence....and they take many forms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peter sat crosslegged, his elbows resting on his thighs, his hands supporting his face. The rounded plateau he sat upon, was locally known as Skull Rock and it gave him an excellent view all around, including the bay that anchored the Sea Witch. Seagulls cried overhead, their white wings swooping and diving, occasionally alighting to peer curiously at the man sitting on their roost.
Since the moment he'd leapt off the Sea Witch and into the air, clouds had shrouded Neverland. Thick and smothering, they hovered low in the sky, ominous and depressing. It suited his mood exactly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wendy lay on her side, her knees drawn up, her face wet and sticky from tears shed almost continuously since Peter had abandoned her. She was back in the small cabin that had been her prison, now it was somewhere to hide away and nurse her hurt. There was one difference, the door was neither locked, nor guarded. Jack had arrived and taken her back to her room after seeing to the men that had been wounded in the fight. He hadn't been able to stay long, only enough to unlace her dress and allow her to discard it before leaving her to cry her heart out. Smee had once more become the unofficial leader of the pirates, his first task, to sort out those that wanted to remain loyal to Hook, and those that were happy to accept Peter and the alliance. Those that baulked, were quickly sent to kick their heels in the hold. The rest were assigned duties aboard, including a rotating watch on Captain Hook who was under house-arrest in his cabin. No one disputed Smee's order to leave Wendy in the care of Jack and Rufus. No one but Smee, Hook and Jack knew of Peter's plan to send Wendy back to her home, and none of them believed it would come to that. For the first couple of days, everyone was busy sorting out accommodations and supplies, the Indians returning to their village after it was all organised, the pirates going back to their established routines of fishing and ships maintenance. The only one to chafe at the nauseating domesticity was Hook. For an active man, being locked in his cabin for most of the day made him want to cut everyone's throat, including his own. As the days passed, and no Pan appeared to pass judgement one way or the other, he settled into a monotonous routine, almost eagerly anticipating the trips on deck once a day for half an hour despite the guards and constant surveillance.
After surviving the night, then most of the next day, and still no sign of a fairy deputation to take her home, Wendy decided she had shed her last tear. Opening the door of the cabin, she saw Rufus napping outside in the corridor, his bulk almost blocking the narrow space completely.
As the door creaked open, Rufus snorted awake, his eyes widening at the sight of her wan face, his thick lips widening into a shy smile.
"Missy want something?"
At the hopeful look on his face, Wendy had to smile. He reminded her so of Nana, almost expecting his tongue to loll out and a tail to wag.
"I'm rather hungry and thirsty, and I would love to have some water for washing, if its not too much trouble?"
"Good as done. Back in a tick."
She watched as Rufus loped away, turning back into her room, leaving the door open a crack. It was almost twenty four hours since she'd seen Peter and she ached for him. Walking to the small window, she pushed it open, air rushing in and lifting the hair from her neck. The sky appeared to be just as overcast as it had in the morning and Wendy sighed, her heart heavy. A noise behind her announced Jack's arrival with a large covered tray.
"Glad to see you up and about...got a few things here to tempt even the most jaded appetite. Rufus is behind me with a jug and basin, so take a bite to eat, he'll be along in a trice."
Wendy smiled at Jack's mothering, her bruised spirits needing someone to care and fuss over her. While she nibbled at the plate of food, Jack opened the trunk and pulled out several dresses, holding them up for her inspection. Wendy chose a dark blue with long sleeves and a high neckline. It reminded Jack of a mourning gown, but he refrained from making his observations known to the sad eyed young woman working her way through the morsel's he'd made, especially to tempt her. Wendy made a good meal and, once dressed and refreshed, felt well enough for a trip up on deck, with Rufus as a shadow to guard her. On the deck she looked up at the grey sky, the clouds so low they shrouded the top of the volcano, some touching the tops of the tallest trees. Smee walked over to speak to her as she leant her arms on the railing, her face turned to the breeze.
"Hello Miss..nice to see you up and about,"
"Thank you Mr.Smee. How are the new crew of the Sea Witch settling in?"
"All right and tight. The boys in the hold will come around eventually. Not exactly a hardship down there....plenty of food, and with the weather like this, who want's to bother with scrubbing the deck."
Wendy laughed lightly at Smee's deliberately mournful face, his mouth tipping up into a grin of pleasure to see her smile.
It lasted all too briefly, her face turning back to gaze out over the sea, her hair lifting in the light breeze.
"There's been no word.....not since last night, and he hasn't been to see the Queen yet, either," Smee informed her, watching her reaction.
"I know. If he had, I wouldn't still be here.....would I."
Scratching his head, Smee leant his back against the rail, his head turning to look at her profile.
"He didn't mean it, you know. He wouldn't send you away.....I've got to know him pretty well over the last few days...and I know his heart."
Wendy gave a short laugh, her mouth twisting wryly. "Then you are the only one who does know his heart Smee. He's hasn't even said.....he loves me, not once. Does that make me a fool to want to stay?"
"Not a fool...never a fool. He's just confused and hurting and unable to understand it all.....in that he's not alone, I'm having difficulty understanding a lot of what's been happening myself."
Wendy chewed her lip, her face turned away so that Smee had to strain to hear her. "He would ask me...all the time...did I trust him. And every time I said yes.....I did......I still do."
Smee waited a moment before asking his next question.
"What happened in the Captain's cabin? We were all shocked when Peter smashed the window. It wasn't exactly the signal we were expecting."
He saw a blush creep up Wendy's cheeks, her hand coming up to touch her flushed skin. Shooting a quick glance at Smee, Wendy ducked her head, her hair falling forward to hide her burning face.
"Hook and I were dancing.......a waltz....and then.....Hook....he.." Smee strained to hear her words. "He kissed me."
"And Peter saw all this?"
Wendy could only manage a nod, too mortified to speak.
"Well I never.....that explains some."
"Then maybe you'd better explain it to me, because I don't know what to do."
"Nothing you can do....he has to sort this out himself." Putting his arm around Wendy's shoulder and giving it an avuncular squeeze, Smee smiled to himself. "You just stop worrying...I don't imagine the fairies are in a hurry to see you leave..after all, Alindra sent Peter to you in the first place."
"You're right, she did."
"There you go then. I have to to now and sort something out. Stay and enjoy the fresh air. No-one will bother you."
Smiling at his consideration, Wendy turned back to her contemplation of the sea, her face once more upturned to the cool breeze.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peter lay on his stomach, his small telescope pressed to his right eye, the other squeezed shut. His elbows acted as a brace, to keep his hands steady, as he focused on the tiny ship below. Wendy filled his view, her face upturned, as if searching for his position. Peter could see that her eyes were shut, her hair moving in the sea-breeze. He watched for long minutes, his elbows protesting at the awkward position, grit and pebbles digging into his stomach. He watched until she moved away from the railing, her face turned away, her step slow as she paced the deck, stopping to talk to the giant pirate that stalked her like a shadow, his head bending down to catch her words. Peter felt something twist in his stomach, acid burning his throat. The pirate seemed inordinately friendly with Wendy, his manner solicitous and intimate. Peter ground his teeth.
He watched until she left the deck, returning to her cabin, he presumed. Snapping the telescope shut, he pushed himself back on his heels. Above his head, clouds started to roil, the grey turning to black. Sensing the approaching storm, Peter glanced up, frowning at the twisting clouds. It was more evidence that what Wendy had said was all too true. Peter and the island of Neverland were connected, his black mood creating the swirling clouds above him.
"Go AWAY!" he screamed, getting to his feet and raising his fist to shake it at the sky. Clipping his telescope to his belt, he ran and launched himself off the edge of the rounded rock, his arms outstretched as he flew over the bay, turning quickly and swooping towards the forest.
Behind him the storm died down, returning to its former grey blanket above Skull Rock.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wendy picked up the quill and tapped the feathered end against her top lip as she considered where she would start. In front of her lay a pristine sheet of paper, a stack sitting on the floor beside her, ready and waiting to be used. She had the table positioned under the small window in her room so that during the day, natural light flooded her work.
Another night and day had passed with no sign of Peter or a fairy, so Wendy decided that she wanted to commit to paper all her adventures to date, to be added to her journal and kept in trust by Mr.Smee, if she had no time to collect it before she left. Smee scoffed that it was never going to happen but Wendy had no such feeling, her heart leaden every time she considered what her life was going to be like back in London. On one hand she longed to see her family, her parents and brothers. On the other, she couldn't bear the thought of leaving Peter and Neverland, despite everything that had happened.
Dipping the quill into the ink pot, Wendy started to write, the words flowing slowly, haltingly, at first, her thoughts taking time to sort out, but soon her quill was flying over the sheets. Jack brought trays of tea and food, her busy scratching the only sound other than a quiet thank you whenever anything was left for her. It seemed to Smee that she never slept, the light from her cabin burning through the night, Jack often finding her asleep over the table, her fingers stained from the ink. During the week that Wendy worked, the crew of the Sea Witch got the ship into tiptop shape. Every piece of wood was polished to a high sheen, every top sail mended and every brass ring left shining. When the topside was finished, Smee set the men to work on the outside, scraping the hull and repainting the figurehead. When the day arrived that Wendy put the last of many quills to rest on the inkstand, the Sea Witch was a trim and tidy ship. Lifting the many sheets of paper and tapping them into a neat bundle, Wendy wrapped them around with a blue ribbon tied in a neat bow. Getting to her feet she suddenly realised how tired she was, her hand lifting to brush a tendril of hair from her face. Sighing, she gathered the bundle of paper against her bosom and left the cabin.
On reaching the deck she was surprised to fine the sun shining and no sign of the blanket of clouds she had become accustomed to.
"Mornin's miss."
"Good morning Rufus....the sun in shining."
"That is it....we figure it means He's sleeping."
"Oh.....is it that obvious then?"
"Well......as you know its been so darn...excuse me...very cloudy the last few days, but no rain or storms of nuffin. But the nights had been clear, atleast for a few hours and we figures....Mr.Smee and me that is.....we figures it because the Pan is sleeping."
"I see....but now its morning, and its still clear."
"Yes....but it was cloudy last night, so we figure He was up all night....or summit....and is sleeping now."
"Hmmmmm. Well thank you Rufus...I'm sure you and Mr.Smee are quite right."
"Are you alright miss.....you seem kind of, um.....distracted."
"Do I.....I guess I must be more tired than I thought. I wanted to give this to Smee....is he about?"
"Up on the half-deck, checking the mizzen mast....he seems to think we might need a replacement."
"I see.....thank you Rufus."
Smiling at the gentle giant, Wendy picked up her skirts in one hand and climbed the steps to the half deck, her bundle tucked under her arm. She saw Smee talking to several of the men and holding a diagram, she supposed of the ship. Smee saw her immediately and came over his face wreathed in smiles.
"Good to see you out of the cabin...thought you'd grown roots or something."
"I've finished Smee....its all down on paper."
She handed the sheaf of papers over and Smee pantomimed receiving a heavy weight, making Wendy laugh. He fingered the satin ribbon, but didn't attempt to open it.
"I'll have this put in a safe place."
"Thank you Smee....it means alot that you will see it safe. I'd like to think that Peter will get to read it one day."
"Can he read?"
"Oh yes......not well, admittedly, but he just lacks practise."
Smee looked down at the papers in his hand.
"What are you going to do now?"
"As Peter appears to have forgotten all about his threat to send me home, I needs must do so on my own."
"What?"
"I would like someone to row me to shore. I want to find the fairies and be taken home."
Taken aback, Smee stared at Wendy, noting the calm resignation in her eyes, as well as her steely determination in her straight back and raised chin.
"Are you sure Wendy...maybe he just needs some more time ?"
"He might, but I don't. I told him only the truth Smee and he couldn't cope with that......he said I offended him..."
"I'm sure he didn't..." Smee found himself stopped by a slim hand raised, palm out.
"I want to go home Smee......I want to go home."
Nodding, Smee laid a gnarled hand on her shoulder, patting it gently. "Of course you do lass. And I'm not about to stop you."
"Thank you Smee.....I'll miss you."
Refusing to give into her tears, Wendy turned around and hurried off the bridge, her skirts flying as she all but ran back to her cabin.
Jack checked on her several hours later, having been appraised by Smee of their conversation, to find her fast asleep on the cot, still fully clothed, her face stained with tears, her fingers wrapped around the small acorn hanging from its chain.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He simply couldn't stay away any longer. It was killing him.
Peter Pan sat in the fork of a huge tree that bordered the lagoon, his vantage point giving him a clear view of the Sea Witch. He had tried to stay at the treehouse but he saw Wendy in every room, the memory of her and their time together filling his dreams when he slept and his thoughts during the day. It was as if she had infected him with a disease that had no cure, but only got worse the longer he stayed away. He had searched for the fairies, but found them gone from their usual haunts. Even the Indians and Mermaids were unable, or in the Mermaids case, probably unwilling, to help him, having seen no trace of the fairies since the night on the Sea Witch and his fight with Hook. He'd flown the length and breadth of the island, to places he'd only visited once or twice before, renewing his acquaintance with some of the hidden treasure of Neverland. Along one piece of coast, not far from where the ship was anchored, he found three bodies, one being of Billy Boyd Runciman, the other two, sailors from Hook's ship. Their boats were mere splinters on the rocks where they lay and Peter could only conjecture they had been caught up in the storm and waterspout that helped save his life on Traitors Rock. Smee had told him about them, but Peter had forgotten in the heat of the moment, their remains now just food for the seagulls and crabs. After that grisly find, he returned to his watching of the ship and particularly for any sign of Wendy. She hadn't been in evidence at all, for most of the week, and his brief glimpse of her just now was enough to send him into a frenzy of need. His body aching, and his heart thumping.
He had to see her. It would be tonight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He slipped aboard, unseen, as furtive as if the ship was still under the control of Hook. He knew where she was but he wanted no-one to know of his visit. He didn't intend to stay long, only enough to see her, before slipping away again.
As the ship was at peace, there were only a couple of men on watch, both with their backs turned when Peter alighted on the deck. Lifting the mid-hatch he climbed down the stairs and almost floated along the passage way, his pulse pounding in his ears in anticipation.
He passed a snoring Rufus, slumped in a chair outside the cabin. Once past, Peter opened the door and slipped inside, shutting the door and locking it behind him. The room was in almost complete darkness, only a patch of grey to tell him where the window was. He remembered the layout and felt his way to the bed, the soft sounds of breathing telling him Wendy was there. He had only wanted to touch her hair, hear her breathing, but he'd underestimated the effect his other senses would have on his good intentions. As he leant over the cot, pure essence of Wendy rose and engulfed him in a sweet cloud of scent, like an elixir to his starved senses. She smelt of the earth, and rain and flowers and home. Inhaling, Peter found himself responding unexpectedly to her, his body becoming aroused beyond his control. As quietly as he could he shed his clothes, dropping his boots and belt to the floor. Wendy remained oblivious, her soft breathing in time with his heartbeats, his own lungs laboring to drag in enough air as his heated body demanded more.
As if responding to the naked heat emanating so close, Wendy stirred, her lips parting on a sigh as she turned from her side onto her back. Peter, the ache in his chest becoming unbearable, rose up and floated above her. He couldn't see her face with his eyes so he used his fingers, touching her skin with a feather light touch, his memory supplying the details as his fingers explored familiar territory, outlining her lips before moving to her nose and up to her finely arched brows, whispering over her lashes and up to her hair, his fingers burrowing into the soft tresses, revelling in their silk.
Where his fingers lead, his mouth followed, pressing butterfly soft kisses to her chin and lips, her cheeks and forehead. Under the soft caresses, Wendy began to awaken, her mind convinced that she was having a most wonderful dream where a golden angel visited her and loved her in ways that made her body glow as brightly as his.
Peter felt, rather than saw her eyes open, gazing up at him with a dreamy look, their colour lost in the darkness, but not their gleam.
"I thought you were a dream."
"I'm no dream Wendy......touch me.....I'm here, I'm real."
Bemused, Wendy raised her hand and lightly touched his chest, her fingertips raising goosebumps on his skin as she trailed her nails down then up, over his shoulder and neck, her fingers tunnelling through his hair.
"You are real.......and you're glowing!"
Wendy could see Peter quite clearly, despite the inky blackness of the cabin around them. His beloved features were lit from within with a glow that suffused his body and turned it to gold. As she watched, it grew from a faint aura of peach and apricot, to a glorious copper gold, his hair turning guinea gold to match. Only his eyes remained their true colour, a changing mixture with the blue of the sea, the green of the jungle and a twinkle from the stars.
Peter could see his glow reflected in her eyes as they travelled over his body, still slumberous and dreamy and full of love.
"Why have you come to me?" She asked, her fingers stroking his cheek.
"I had to touch you....I ache to touch you."
"You stayed away so long.....I thought you'd forgotten me."
Peter smiled, his eyes creasing at the corners.
"Could I forget to breath?.....could I forget to see?...could my heart forget to beat?"
"Oh Peter.....I so wanted you to understand, I didn't mean to hurt you..."
"Shhhhh I know......I didn't want to understand."
"Have you seen Alindra ? Has she told you what you need to know?"
"No....I haven't seen any of the fairies.....not even TinkerBell. I think they might be hiding from me."
"And you came to me anyway?"
"I had to Wendy.....I can't live without you....my body, my heart knew this, it just took my head awhile to catch up."
As Peter watched, a wondrous smile broke over Wendy's face, bathing him in its warmth and tenderness.
"I love you Peter," Wendy whispered, her fingers tracing the outline of his lips, stroking his skin and igniting sparks of awareness all over him.
"I have to kiss you Wendy......if I don't I think I'll explode,"
Wendy laughed, a throaty sound that made parts of his anatomy become tight with arousal and anticipation.
"Then kiss me Peter......"
Impossibly, Peter's aura brightened even more, bathing them both in a soft golden glow. Infinitely slowly, Peter lowered himself, until his lips were merely brushing her, their breath mingling. Before he closed the space between them and succumbed to his rampant desire, Peter gazed almost fiercely into Wendy's eyes, his own flickering with flames that threatened to consume her.
"I love you Wendy.....I love you more than my life. I am nothing without you....I can't exist if you aren't breathing the same air as me...I can't live if you aren't there with me.....I want you, and I won't let you go....ever."
Her heart too full, Wendy had to swallow to get the words past the lump in her throat.
"As you wish.....Peter," she whispered against his lips.
Like a man too long denied, Peter devoured Wendy's lips, his mouth hot and demanding on hers, passion igniting between them as their tongues duelled and their lips spoke a language as old as the world.
As his weight settled on her, Wendy arched beneath him, her legs wrapping around him as her arms entwined his neck. Peter had his fingers buried in her hair, tilting her head to give him access to her lips, her neck, everywhere he could brand her with his kisses.
Wendy writhed against him, her gasps and sighs inflaming him, driving him ever upwards to ecstasy.
Wanting her skin, Peter ripped the thin fabric that hid her treasures from him, the camisole and petticoats ending as rags of the floor as his desire for her set them both on fire, his hands blazing a trail for his mouth, Wendy surrendering herself to the overwhelming passion of her hearts desire.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack raised a hand to knock, surprised to find the door locked when he arrived with a supper tray for Wendy.
He'd awoken her earlier in the day to have some tea and Wendy had been grateful, looking a bit more rested and composed. She had told him she would just rest in her cabin and catch up on her sleep, allowing him to help her take off the plain blue dress, before telling him not to worry and shooing him out of the cabin.
Jack knocked again, this time pressing his ear to the door.
Just as suddenly he straightened, a blush creeping up his neck, the tray in his hand wobbling slightly.
Rufus, in the chair behind him, rubbed his eyes.
"What's the matter?"
Swallowing, Jack turned and pinned a smile on his face.
"Nothing Rufus....nothing at all."
"Is the missy all right?"
Unbelievably, Jack blushed even harder. Grinning, he winked at Rufus.
"I think that everything is going to be fine Rufus."
"Oh good.....I don't like it when the missy sad."
"Oh I don't think you have to worry about that anymore."
Without giving an explanation, Jack turned on his heel and walked away, a grin plastered to his face, the sounds of passionate love-making still echoing in his red-hot ears.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: All Because of a Thimble
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: Sixteen - Decisions
The morning after the night before or where do we go from here?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Smee found himself awake with Rufus shaking him roughly.
"What.....huh?"
"Get up Mr.Smee....there's summit you should see."
Dragging his pocket watch over, Smee squinted at the face.
"It's barely time for the watch to change. What's up?"
"Can't say.....you've gotta see!"
Grumbling, Smee swung his legs out of the hammock, scrabbling for his glasses before following the giant pirate out of the officer's quarters and up to the deck. Arriving on deck he found most of the crew gathered along the railing, their faces turned to the sky.
Adjusting his glasses, Smee also looked skyward, and gasped.
"The stars are dancing," Rufus whispered, a wide smile on his blunt features, his eyes turned heavenward.
Smee could only nod in agreement.
Above the Sea Witch the velvet night sky was alight with bright streaks of light arcing towards the sea. The lights were varied in size and colour, all of them streaming in continuous waves towards the phosphorus laden waves, their reflections making the sea sparkle.
"Oh my..." whispered Smee, his face reflecting the same expression of awe and wonder as his crew.
"What do you think it means, Mr.Smee?"
"I wouldn't begin to know the answer to that Rufus,"
"I do."
Smee turned briefly to regard Jack curiously as he came towards them, Jack's eyes also looking up at the spectacle taking place over their heads.
"And just what would that be Jack? What do you know, that we don't?"
"I know that Wendy isn't alone tonight.....and that Peter won't be sending her home anytime soon, if ever, if this display is anything to go by."
His eyebrows climbing into his hairline, Smee gaped at Jack, who smiled a knowing smile before tapping the side of his nose.
Smee suddenly realised he had his mouth open and snapped it shut.
"Hmmmmmm I see......well that's good news then."
Rufus scratched his head and looked at the two men, perplexed.
"I don't understand."
"Don't worry, it'll all come clear in the morning....in the meantime, enjoy the fireworks..." Jack told him, patting the giant on the back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wendy stretched, her limbs feeling wonderfully languid, a smile curving her lips. Turning to lay on her side, she looked across the room to the man standing with his back to her. He blocked the window, the sunlight rimming his outline, but enough entered to paint his back in enticing shadows, his slim hips and long legs providing her with several minutes of viewing pleasure. Peter was beautiful to gaze upon, front or back. Sighing, she propped the side of her head on her hand and called to him.
"Peter?"
"It's a clear morning.....come see," He turned slightly, holding out his hand to her, his face in shadow.
Smiling, Wendy swung her legs out of bed and pushed herself to her feet, her hair rippling in a cloak down her back. On bare feet she padded over, her hand coming up to rest in his as he drew her to the open window. His arm came to rest around her waist, his skin warm against hers. With her head resting against his arm, Wendy gazed out at the seascape outside the window. The sky was painted in a myriad of colours, cloudless and clear, the evening star setting like a diamond on the horizon, chased away by the rising sun. The sea reflected the sky, small ripples breaking up the colours to create a kaleidoscope of rainbows, unbroken to the horizon.
"Neverland is beautiful Peter....almost as beautiful as you,"
Grinning, Peter turned his head to look down at her, his eyes bright. "I've told you before....boys can't be beautiful."
They gazed at each other in silence, Peter reaching up his free hand to run a thumb over Wendy's kiss swollen lips, his own curving into a smile at her dreamy expression.
Slowly, bathed in the dawn light reflected from a glassy sea, Peter lowered his head and captured her lips in a sweet kiss, their mouths clinging for a moment before parting, Peter's eyes backlit with a flame that Wendy found wonderfully exciting.
"I never want to leave you, Peter."
She saw a shadow pass over his face, his mouth thinning, a frown marring his forehead.
"We may not have a choice...I won't be a pirate....and I don't want to be a boy again.....I don't know what the alternative is."
"Then maybe it's time we found out."
Turning, Wendy led Peter back to the cot, picking up his clothes as they went.
"Get dressed, we'll talk to Smee and see what we can figure out....there must be a way to contact Alindra."
"I'm almost afraid to find out what she has to say,"
"We'll find out together...whatever the answer, we'll face it together."
With another sweet kiss, Wendy left him to dress, going back to the dress chest and flipping back the lid. She rummaged for a second or two before pulling out what she was looking for. Holding it up against her body, she twirled around, the skirt concealing then revealing her bare limbs as she turned. Peter watched enchanted, his eyes sparkling.
"You know......its early yet....we could...."
Wendy stopped turning, shooting him an wicked look before pursing her lips and adopting a prim expression.
"No we couldn't.....and you're insatiable!"
"Where you're concerned....I can never have enough."
Melting at his words, Wendy almost gave in to temptation but a knock at the door made her dive for the bed, the dress clutched to her chest as Peter, pulling his shirt over his head, chuckled and headed over to answer the knock.
He opened the door a crack, meeting Jack knowing look.
"You need to come up on deck Peter.....decisions need to be made."
"We'll be right there."
Shutting the door, Peter walked back to the bed to pull on his boots, Wendy struggling to pull on the dress in the confines of the bed.
"Stand up, you can't get dressed in there..... I'll help you."
Ceasing her struggle, Wendy climbed off the bed and stood while Peter helped her dress, taking, to Wendy's mind, an inordinate amount of time lacing the back, his fingers stroking her skin, his lips pressing kisses to the nape of her neck, making her tremble with longing.
When he was finished she turned and found him gazing at her with smouldering eyes. Pulling her to him, he seized her lips with his, searing her with heat and leaving her aching for him.
"You don't play fair, Peter Pan," she whispered, as he kissed his way down her neck, Wendy arching to give him greater access. "We really can't do this now."
"Then don't wear clothes that beg to be taken off." He growled, taking a deep breath to get himself back under control.
Wendy looked down at the spring-green dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, its neckline daringly low and provocative. The material floated when she moved, revealing a silky underskirt in a darker shade than the overdress. The sleeves were sheer organza, mere puffs that covered the top of her arms, no lace or brocade, the fabric alone, its sole decoration. Around her neck the gold chain glinted with its precious acorn.
As Peter drank her in, so she did him. She revelled in his broad shoulders and slim hips, hidden from her by the sleeveless cream shirt that tucked into his sword belt, his snuff-coloured trousers overlapping his short boots just below the knee. She saw the glint of gold and knew he still wore her kiss, as she did his.
Satisfied that they were presentable, Wendy held out her hand to him and they left the cabin, fingers entwined, prepared to allow nothing, and nobody to separate them again.
They found the corridor empty, Peter followed Wendy up to the deck. As Peter stepped onto the deck he found that their arrival was the signal for applause to break out, cheers filling the morning air as the full complement of the Sea Witch celebrated his return. Wendy blushed rosily, as the cheers included her, shouts of "Pan's Lady" caused her to smile and nod at the faces surrounding them, her eyes finding Smee, who grinned back at her cheekily.
As the noise died down, Peter lead Wendy up to the half deck where Smee, Jack and Rufus stood. With a jolt of surprise, Peter saw Hook standing just behind his lieutenants. Seeing the direction of his stare, Smee stepped forward and spoke in Peter's ear.
"He's been a model prisoner...um....since you left. It's only fair he be here to hear his sentence." Clearing his throat, Smee continued. "He'd wearing leg irons just as a precaution."
Smiling grimly, his eyes still fixed on the pirate Captain, Peter nodded and Smee breathed a small sigh of relief. Peter turned his back on Hook, dismissing him, and drew Wendy to stand beside him as he approached the railing and raised a hand to quiet the crew.
"I have returned to decide the fate of James Hook. The crimes he has committed are against the Island of Neverland, and against myself and my own." Peter cast Wendy a brief look before turning his attention back to the crew. "He has wantonly destroyed and despoiled my home and yours and deserves to be punished."
Several cheers greeted Peter's announcement, the crew remembering Hooks many cruel punishments for minor infractions.
"You might have heard a rumour, that if I kill Hook, I will become Hook......I don't believe that." Pausing, Peter turned his head to stare directly into Hook's cool, blue-grey eyes. "And I don't believe he does either."
"I ask you now.......what do you consider a fitting end for the infamous Captain Hook?"
The crew erupted into a melee of shouting and raised fists as they all tried to speak at once. Hook blanched faintly at some of the more blood-thirsty suggestions, but raised his chin a notch to show his indifference to them. Peter allowed them to vent their spleen before raising his hand once more for silence.
Before he could continue one of the crew shouted and pointed to shore, his cry taken up by others as they turned to see for themselves. Peter turned and saw hundreds of points of light, rising from the forest, as a fairy swarm rose into the morning sky. As one, the sparks of light formed a spiral, that rose to a point before turning to the ocean and streaming towards the Sea Witch.
"Oh Peter." Wendy breathed, her fingers squeezing his.
As they watched, the wave of light swept over the smooth sea, reaching the hull of the ship and flying up the side to spill over the rail and break into a hundred streamers that wove like ribbons above the crew and into the rigging.
At the end of the fairy procession, Alindra arrived, carried in a creamy magnolia blossom by the members of her court. As they approached, Alindra rose from her petal-carriage and floated towards Peter and Wendy, the Queen's wings shed rainbow coloured dust as she slowed and hovered in front of Peter.
"Welcome back Peter......I imagine you have many questions."
"I do....but....where did you go? I looked all over the island and never found you?"
"You had to find your own way.......back to what you knew was right for you."
"Is what Wendy said true?"
"That depends.....firstly, what do you understand?"
"I have a connection......a physical connection to Neverland. It feels what I feel, it reacts to my feelings in ways that are....very intense."
"That is true....your emotions do provoke a reaction. It has saved your life in some instances."
"Am I Neverland?"
Alindra wafted back a little way, her hands outspread.
"You are the reason for Neverland's existence."
Frowning, Peter looked helplessly at the Queen.
"I don't understand."
"All you need to understand Peter is that you have the power to order this world....to create and destroy, to change the way things are."
"Change?"
"Your Majesty," Wendy interrupted, feeling tension radiating off Peter in waves. " We understood that this....relationship.... also affected Captain Hook. I was told that if Hook dies.....Peter will have to replace him."
"In a way that is true.....but not in a terrible way that you fear."
"Must Hook die?"
"No.....but for Peter to leave the past and embrace his future, he must send back what the island had collected for his.....entertainment."
"This was all for my......" Peter choked,"....the fighting, the killing, the danger....entertainment?"
"You must understand some of the history to understand the present, Peter......we fairies were being driven from the human world. We had lived among men, providing them with magic and wonderment, but they rejected us. Drove us away from our homes and forced us to create islands of sanctuary where fairies and other magical folk could live in freedom. It led to the creation of Neverland, but in those days it was nothing like you see here. We found that we needed a human to create a real world, one with life and growth, challenge and love. So we had to find someone to become our nexus, our focus, our world. In the human realm, when man grows past the age of infancy and childhood, he rejects the magical, the wonderful, so we had to start with children. It was said that fairy folk stole children to create new fairies, but we didn't steal.....we only took what was unwanted in the human world, children that were abandoned or lost or had such a strong desire to leave their world behind that they went willingly. You were such a child. You alone had the strength of purpose, even as an innocent child, to want to see what was beyond the human realm and enter the magical. When TinkerBell found you she was attracted to you by your aura, it was bright and sang to her. It told her you were the one to lend substance to our world, so she brought you here, and you came willingly. Neverland became whatever you wanted of it.......we peopled it from all times and places, we filled it with whatever fantastic dream you ever had, and it continues to do so.......Neverland is what you have made it.
While Alindra had been speaking, the fairies had alighted on every surface of the ship, their wings beating to shed dust on everything. As before, when Peter first defeated Hook, the ship rose into the air, leaving the sea far behind.
Pandemonium reigned briefly as the crew on the lower deck felt the initial terror and unfamiliarity of being airborne, but their innate curiosity sent most to the railing to see a once in a lifetime view of Neverland passing below them.
"What am I destined to become Alindra.....if I am not Hook....neither am I Peter Pan......not the child, at least."
"No Peter.......you are no longer a child, and never will be again.....you have grown, through your own will and desire, into a man....and it is for you to decide what you are to become."
Wendy laid a hand on Peter's arm, feeling his muscles bunch under her palm.
"Majesty.....if I understand you.....Peter can change anything within this world," she waited for Alindra to nod in confirmation before continuing. " And you said that he has to send back what the island has collected.....are you talking about this ship...these men....Hook?"
"As a child grows out of the nursery, so Peter had outgrown the need for Captain Hook, and his reason for being here. All that has been brought, can be returned."
"How?"
"Peter only has to wish it and it will be done. There is only one condition, whoever is returned, must do so willingly for it to work. Otherwise they will stay here.....forever, or as long as their natural lifespan."
"Can no-one leave Neverland and return?"
"Of course they can.....Peter has the power to leave and return as many times as he likes....this is his world, after all. He can also take anyone with him and they will be protected by him and thus able to return. All he has to do is wish it.....and it is as he desires."
"Will I live forever?" Asked Peter, his voice hoarse.
"No......no-one lives forever, even fairies die. If you choose to, you can live a normal lifespan....but be warned, once you wish it, it cannot be undone, your wish, once said, is irreversible. So think deeply before you wish, Peter Pan, and use the power wisely."
"What happens when I die.....will Neverland cease to exist?"
"No.....your first born will be the heir to Neverland, with all that you possess, the responsibility and the power, passing to them when you cease to be."
"Oh Peter...." Overwhelmed herself, Wendy found herself enclosed in Peter's arms as he clung to her, his brain whirling from the implications of Alindra's revelations.
Beneath them, the Sea Witch continued on her flight around Neverland, the crew, too far away to hear Alindra's speech, leaning over the side of the ship, pointing and shouting at the land below. The fairy host, after completing a circuit of the island, started to descend, taking the ship far out to sea, almost to the horizon. As they touched down once more, a great spray of water shot up on all sides before settling, the ship rocking in the swell created by her arrival.
"It is time Peter.....time for you to take on the mantle of your destiny."
Lifting his head from Wendy's shoulder, Peter put her away from him, a smile reassuring her before he turned away.
"I know what I have to do..."
Turning he signalled to Smee who stepped to the ships bell and rang it, the sound drawing everyone's attention to Peter.
"Pin ya ear's back ya swabs...." shouted Smee, receiving a grin from Peter before he turned to address the crew.
When everyone was focused on him, Peter began to speak.
"All of you have a choice to make. In time past you were brought to Neverland and have stayed, serving on this ship. That time is now past, you have the chance....a right, to return to you previous lives.....you only have to ask and you can go home."
A babble of voices broke over him as the crew all shouted at once. He raised his hand. As the voices died away, a voice came from behind him.
"Does that include me Pan?"
Turning around, Peter surveyed Hook with narrowed eyes. He felt Wendy's hand on his arm and squashed the urge to shake her off and draw his sword.
"Yes......that includes you....if you have something to return to?"
"Well.....let's see what my choices are, shall we? Go back to what I was in the real world.....or death.....or some other equally horrible punishment?
He paused, allowing Peter to acknowledge his statement. Receiving a curt nod he continued.
"If that's the case......I choose to go back......in fact, I insist on it. I have a feeling life around here will be unbearably dull. I will be more than happy to forget all of your, and this unfortunate episode in my life."
Smiling grimly, Peter beckoned Smee over. Speaking softly to the first mate.
"What was Hook, before he came here?"
"Hard to tell....but from what little he's ever spoken about his past....it certainly wasn't Captain of any ship."
"Alindra," Peter beckoned the fairy Queen over. "If I wish it, it can't be undone?"
"That's right Peter.....but I should also mention that whoever goes back will not remember Neverland or their time spent here, unless you wish it....."
"What about injuries...like Hook's hand?"
"That can't be undone."
"Hmmmmm......Wendy?"
"Send him back Peter......but let him remember what he's left behind. He should know what his wickedness has cost him."
Raising his hand, he once more waited for silence to fall before turning and facing Hook, Peter's teeth bared in a humourless grin.
"It would seem that you are to have your wish Hook......but as a punishment you will be allowed to keep your memories of this island and your time as Captain of your own ship, not once, but twice over. You will also remember that you were bested by me not once...but many times. It will eat at you for the rest of your life....because the paradise of forgetting is hereby closed to you forever."
"NO!" Hooks shout sounded above the babble of voices that washed over the decks as Peter's verdict filtered through the crew.
Ignoring the noise Peter closed his eyes briefly before spreading his arms wide, feeling a power rise up inside him.
"Bring him forward." He instructed. Hook resisted, the shackles rattling as he found himself pulled inexorably forward by Rufus.
Looking Hook straight in the eyes, Peter dropped his arms and placed them on his hips, fists balled, legs slightly apart, the stance unmistakably Peter Pan.
"Captain James Hook, you will be returned to your proper time and place in the world and you will remember every detail of your time here in Neverland until the end of your miserable life. I so wish it, so let it be!"
With a shriek, Hook lunged at Peter his hands outstretched to claw and strike but he never reached him. In a flash of light Hook was gone as if he'd never existed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With Smee's help, Peter approached each and every member of the crew, including those still in the hold, and offered them the choice to stay and make a life in Neverland, or return to their former lives, with no memory of their time spent on the Sea Witch or Jolly Roger.
Almost half of the crew decided to leave and Peter sent them happily on their way. Those that remained, gathered around as Peter spoke again.
"For you that are left, the island of Neverland is now your home. This ship is now yours to use or not. You are no longer pirates, you are freemen of Neverland. As I wish it, so will it be."
After acknowledging the cheers and enduring several back slaps, Peter turned to find Wendy, who had disappeared back below decks after Hook's departure.
He felt the ship move under his feet as the crew unfurled the sails and prepared to get under way, returning to the island to choose a site for their new settlement. The fairies had also gone, Alindra satisfied that Peter had everything well in hand and understood exactly what was needed to be done. Alindra had told Peter that the Indians would be apprised of what Peter could offer, if they wanted to return, and as soon as he talked to Wendy, he'd fly to the Indian village and speak to the Chief. There was also the matter of Tiger Lily to sort out.
He saw Rufus leaning against the wall outside the Captain cabins, his arms crossed over his massive chest. He saw Peter and nodded towards the door.
"She's in there,"
Opening the door, Peter looked inside and saw Wendy curled up on a window seat, her arms pillowing her head where it rested on the window embrasure, her eyes closed.
Smiling smugly, Peter stole up to her, his arms hooking under her knees, the other around her back. Lifting her into his arms, he straightened, and turned to leave the cabin. Sleepily, Wendy entwined her arms around his neck, nuzzling his neck.
"Where are you taking me Peter?"
"Home."
"What about the Indians? Tiger Lily?"
"I'll go see the Chief tomorrow.....right now I want to take you home."
"Hmmmmmm," Wendy purred before suddenly stiffening in his arms and struggling. "Oh I've forgotten something...I have to see Smee!"
Putting her down, Peter watched as she scrambled up the ladder to the deck, his libido appreciating the amount of leg showing as she hitched her skirts up, to climb more easily. On the deck Wendy looked for Smee, seeing him up on the bridge, directing the man at the wheel.
"Mr.Smee.....I need that manuscript back.....please."
Making his way down to her, Smee smiled broadly. "Won't take me a moment, wait here, I'll be back up in a tick." He walked away, passing Peter as he approached the hatch. Peter, reaching where Wendy stood, raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry as she linked her arm through his.
"Smee was looking after something for me.....if we're going home..I want to take it with me."
As she finished Smee popped out of the hatch carrying a bundle of paper under his arm. Handing it over, Smee found himself blushing when Wendy reached over and kissed his wrinkled cheek. Peter sending the first mate a mock frown as he looked on indulgently.
"I leave the Sea Witch in your care Smee.......I'll visit in a couple of days to see what you need."
Smiling, Smee held out his hand, which Peter clasped and shook warmly. Jack and Rufus approached, Wendy running to Jack and hugging him before turning to Rufus and indicating for him to bend down, then pressing her lips to his cheek.
"Thank you for taking care of me so well...."
"It was a pleasure.....don't forget us,"
"As if I would...."
Deciding that he didn't want Wendy saying goodbye to every member of the remaining crew, Peter once more swept her into his arms, making her squeal and clutch at his neck as he rose into the air, a knowing smile for the men left staring as they flew away across the sea.
"That was rude Peter.......I was only saying goodbye,"
"And we'd still be there tomorrow morning if you had your way.....I want to go home.....I have a surprise for you."
"Well in that case," she reached up and kissed his cheek. "I don't mind at all."
As they approached the headland, Peter flew higher, clearing the cliffs and swooping over the forest. Behind him, as they passed, flowers sprung into bloom, covering the treetops with a cloak of many colours and perfumes. Like the sun rising above the horizon, Peter's presence brought spring to Neverland, birds and butterflies flying up to greet him as he passed, their songs as sweet as angels.
As he approached the treehouse, he slowed and brought them in to land on the wide deck, Peter letting Wendy down too.
"Wait here,"
She watched bemused, as he flew off, heading for the sleeping hut. As she waited she entered the sitting room and placed her precious stories in a chest by the window. She heard Peter alight on the deck and walked out to see what he had been so keen to show her.
He had one hand behind his back and Wendy tried to see what it was but Peter dodged to the side to prevent her.
"I have something I want to give you, but first, I want to ask you something."
Puzzled and intrigued, Wendy smiled at his suddenly serious face.
"Alright.....what is it?"
"Wendy.....do you want to stay here with me.....on Neverland....for the rest of your life ?"
"Why yes, of course Peter."
"Then....I want you to be my one and only wife."
"Oh Peter."
"And of course, I would be your one and only husband.....ever."
Keeping her smile hidden, Wendy echoed his serious expression and answered.
"I want only one, Peter.....you."
"Then I have this for you, as my one and only wife, for the rest of my life." Stepping forward, Peter brought his hand out from behind his back. His fist was closed and he held it palm up, still clenched tightly. As Wendy waited, Peter closed his eyes and drew on the power he could feel in the core of him. A bright flash sent golden light between his closed fingers. Opening his eyes he looked down and opened his hand. On his palm lay a gold ring. Picking it up, between his thumb and first finger, he reached for Wendy's left hand, which she gave to him. Slowly he slipped the ring on her third finger where it shone as brightly at the sun.
"Peter," Wendy breathed, "it's beautiful.....its perfect."
"I have one for me as well."
"Can I put it on for you."
As she watched, Peter closed his fist again, and the golden light flashed briefly. As he opened his hand another gold ring lay glinting on his palm. Lifting the ring, Wendy kissed it before placing it on Peter's third finger on his left hand.
"Peter Pan....I take you for my one and only husband....for the rest of my life."
Admiring how the ring flashed on his finger, Peter suddenly flashed Wendy a wicked grin before placing his hands around her waist and lifting her into the air, spinning her around.
Putting her down, Peter looked Wendy in the face, his expression once more serious.
"We are married now.....aren't we?"
"Well..yes Peter....I do believe we are,"
"Good."
Laughing, Wendy wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to hers, whispering in his ear.
"Did whoever told you about marriage, happen to mention what happens afterwards?"
"Um.......no. What happens?"
"A honeymoon."
"What's that?" Peter looked at her curiously.
"Take me to the sleeping hut and I'll explain on the way."
Grinning, Peter swung her into his arms and leapt into the air. As he flew towards the hut Wendy whispered in his ear, almost making him drop her, as she explained what a honeymoon was, exactly.
Stopping outside the hut, he floated, Wendy clasped tightly in his arms.
"How long does a honeymoon have to last?" Asked Peter, his expression thoughtful.
"As long as you want it too," Wendy replied,
"Then I think we'll have lay in some supplies.....this honeymoon is going to last a very long time."
"Oh good."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The End.......for now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thank you for all your encouragement.....I hope it fulfilled some of your fantasies, and maybe gave rise to some inspiration. In the end I just hope it made you smile.