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In the swirl of passion	By : Lywhn Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Het Views: 35043 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 24
- 25
- 26
Hello, everyone.
I hope you will like the fallowing chapter. I have thought a lot about Hook’s past. Barry only let us know that he came from the nobility and that his true name should never be given away, because it would be a scandal (a very clever move of him, if you ask me). So I fallowed his way, but gave James a real history, what could explain his politeness, his obsession with a ‘good form’, his liking for soft music (and flowers), his sometimes melancholy and – in my story – his yearning for love. I hope you will enjoy it and please, please review.
Love, Lywhn

Chapter 25 – Out of the Haze of Memories

“Didn’t you say she’d come?” John stared irritated at the closed door, the one he expected his sister to come through for over an hour now.
“She was soaked to the skin,” Slightly grumbled and looked at his still damp clothes, hung now in before the franklin oven. “And I heard Mr. Smee saying something about a bath. I think she is still stuck into a bathtub and trying to get warm.”
“With Hook,” the eldest of the Darling-sons sneered under his breath.
His cousin rolled his eyes, then ticked off his fingers: “First, the captain is still wounded and has to stay in bed and, second, it’s Wendy’s decision with whom she wishes to share her life. They are both very … familiar with each other now, and sharing a bath is no great shame.”
John grimaced. “Please, Slightly, no details. Imagining those two together in a tub is making me sick!”
“Who’s in a tub?” piped Jump-Jump, approaching. Slightly shot his cousin a stern look of warning and turned to the younger Lost Boy.
“Wendy is in a tub. She was out on deck when the rain started and got completely soaked.”
“So, in order to get dry she takes a bath,” Jump-Jump giggled and several of the boys joined him in the merriment.
Slightly had to grin now. “For my part, I’d love a bath. My new mother made me take plenty of them, and there’s nothing more capital for getting warm again. But we have to wait until Peter is better and we can return to Neverland.”
Nibs, Michael, Runner and Curley gathered around. “Do you really think that Hook’ll let us go?” Curley asked nervously. “I feel like a rabbit in a trap!”
“It is a trick, if you ask me,” Runner nodded, looking troubled. “As soon as Hook feels better, he’ll lock us in the brig and kill us along with Peter.”
Slightly shook his head. “He was ready to let Peter go BEFORE we helped him and his crew. And since then, Peter saved his life! Of course Hook will let us go. Otherwise, it would be ‘bad form’ and you all know how seriously he takes that.”
“And there’s the matter of my dear sister, who has a great influence on our favorite enemy,” John growled and shook his head.
Nibs’ head swung around. “She WHAT?”
“Haven’t you noticed?” asked Jump-Jump. “He captured her three times and never harmed her. Then he saved her from Blackbeard’s clutches, and finally he even fought a duel with Teach for her. As peculiar as it sounds, I think he cares for her.”
“Hook cares for someone?” asked Piper and lifted his brows. “That’s silly!”
“He does!” said Slightly, and earned perplexed looks from the other boys. “You’re right, Piper, he cares for Wendy. A lot!”
John jabbed Slightly in the arm. “Wendy’s the one who needs to tell the boys the truth!”
Slightly glared at him. “John, I know you’re angry with her. I have trouble accepting them as a pair--“ every boy gasped and Michael paled, “but to turn your back on her is wrong and it won’t change anything. And to damn her is worse. You can’t choose who you fall in love with.”
The boys gawked at them and Michael squeaked: “Wendy? In love with Hook?”
“Of course,” his brother answered, still glaring at his cousin. “She has been from the first moment she heard about him. Remember how excited she got when she told stories about him? And now she’s a grown-up, and can think of nothing better to do than to throw herself in his arms.” He growled at Slightly. “And our dear step-cousin approves of this madness.”
Slightly lifted a brow. “Perhaps I just understand her better. And – by the way, John – what do you think my Aunt Mary will say to the fact that you’re in love with an Indian girl? A ‘savage’, as the most people in England would call her.”
John blushed from his hairline to his toes. “I am not—“
“Yes, you are!” Michael interrupted. “Do you think we’re all blind? Of course we see your affection for Tiger-Lily.” He lowered his head. “But Wendy and Hook—“ He took a deep breath and looked up to his older brother. “What … what if he hurts her?”
“He won’t!” answered Slightly instead of John. “He risked everything for her, even his life and those of his men. Do you know a better proof?”
Michael shook his head. “No. But he’s always been so hateful and angry, and now you say he’ll turn completely around?”
“Love does funny things to people,” Slightly smiled. “This is just another proof of it.”
“And not only love, but compassion as well,” John grumbled. “Why are you helping her? She ought to be the one to tell the others and not—“
“John, she’s afraid of what we’ll all say. That’s the reason she kept her relationship with Hook a secret. And the way you reacted yesterday, dear cousin, proves her right. Your words really hurt her. She didn’t tell me a lot about your talk yesterday, but I know. I know that you overdid the outraged-brother routine.” He laid one hand on the shoulder of the other boy. “She’s your sister. You shouldn’t condemn her because of a choice she made that you don’t like. Loving someone doesn’t mean condemning them whenever they do something you don’t like. Try to understand her. Hook is, in his way, a handsome man, and she is a young woman who’s always been attracted to him. He can give her anything she needs, especially her freedom. We both know how much she loathes this sequestered existence at home, and how much she fears the boredom of being a nice wife with a nice husband in a nice house, without anything interesting ever happening. Here she has everything she always wanted: adventure, independence, safety, and a man who loves her, and one she loves in return.”
John sat down on the deck in front of the stove and sighed deeply. “Did you and Mr. Smee make a deal with each other?”
“Why?” Slightly asked, surprised.
His step-cousin looked up at him. “Because you sound exactly like he did when we sat together last night and—“ With a groan he touched his head. “I’ll never drink ale again!” he swore.
The boys shared a laugh before Michael asked with a small voice: “Is Wendy really in love with Hook?” Slightly nodded. “And will she leave us?”
“Michael, you knew the day would have to come sometime when she would leave us. She’s the eldest, so she would marry first and build her own family.”
John frowned. “Do you really think he’ll marry her?”
Slightly shrugged, “Why not?”
Michael cleared his throat. “I can’t believe it. This is awful! Our sister, married to a … a pirate!”
“But if it makes her happy, then you have to consider it!” the second in command of the Lost Boys said softly. “And maybe she’s right, and Hook really has changed. That would be good for all of us – especially for you who remain in Neverland. The violence would just about end. AND he’ll probably prefer to stay on his ship and take voyages with her rather than hunting you. There are a lot of advantages to this situation!”
The new Lost Boys nodded, while the other ones still looked shocked. “Why didn’t she tell us?” Tootles whispered. “Does she trust us so little?”
Slightly threw John a glare. “First, she has to be certain of her own feelings before she lets the cat out of the bag, and second, your dear elder brother over here had indeed the right to get the news first. And his reaction scared the hell out of her.” He gave his step-cousin a sarcastic smile, who responded with a grimace.
“Well, maybe I did overdo it a little bit. But, come on, learning that Hook is going to be my brother-in-law was really a shock!”
One of the twins started to giggle. “I wish I could’a seen your face.” Then he frowned. “Does Peter know?”
Slightly shook his head. “Not yet. She wants to speak with him alone.” He sighed. “That should cause a fight! Peter will never admit it, but he feels for Wendy, and I think, after he learns of her and Hook, that he won’t deny anymore that she’s turned into a grown-up. Until now, he could close his eyes to it, and even ignore that she’s taller than he is, but after this, he’ll have a hard time of it. And – above all that – she chose his sworn enemy. Even if she has managed to change his heart, allowing Peter to remain safe, he won’t see it. I’m sure that he’ll be hurt and angry, and so—“
“—So more rainy days. Wonderful!” Nibs interjected, and looked irritably at the porthole where they could see the big raindrops.
“The two above us won’t care,” John grumbled. “I think they’d love to have an excuse to stay in bed longer.”
Slightly grinned. “This is the cousin that I know and love,” he joked and poked his shoulder. “And tomorrow you will beg Wendy’s pardon. And no arguments, dear John!” he continued before the eldest of the Darling sons could protest. “But first we have to visit Peter, otherwise he’ll die of boredom. And not a word to him. This is really up to Wendy!”
Nodding, the boys followed him, passing two surprised pirates – who left them alone – and went to Smee’s cabin where a boy and his fairy lay in bed and listened to an exciting story told by the old Irish boatswain, who had to start over again after his audience expanded. The boys enthusiastically greeted their leader and sat down all around him and begged Smee to start over. Sighing, Smee gave in, and suddenly he felt very good in his role as a story-telling old sea salt.

The candles had almost burnt down and no longer drove back the darkness. It had stopped raining and only the wind still sang through the riggings. Otherwise, everything on board was quiet, and Wendy asked herself what had awakened her.
She lay with her head on James’ uninjured shoulder, one of her arms wrapped around his hip, and some of his curls had tickled her nose. He was deeply asleep, which was to be expected. Despite the orders of the fairy-queen, he had quite abandoned the distinction between a ‘soft’ and a ‘wild’ game. Their lovemaking had been passionate, energetic, mingled with a tenderness and ardency that had consumed them both wholly.
The knowledge of their love for each other had provided a new bliss in the heat of their pleasure that left them helpless and trembling, clinging to each other, and had allowed them to soar in a glowing aftermath, sweeter than ever before. Of course, several of his wounds had reopened, but he hadn’t minded a bit, and had not allowed her fetch the fairy-dust. His need to have her, to hold her had been too strong, and Wendy had simply given in; had felt that her closeness would help him more in this moment than the magical dust.
James jerked and murmured something, and now Wendy knew what had wakened her. Carefully, she lifted her head and looked at him in the waning light. His face was tense and his expression showed fear, wrath and despair. Sweat covered his forehead and his mouth formed unspoken words. Worried that maybe his traumatic fever had returned, the girl touched his unshaved cheek, and felt that he was indeed too warm. Cursing her own carelessness – she should have insisted on nursing the bleeding cuts again! – she sat up and moved to leave the bed when his moan stopped her.
She realized that he was having a nightmare. She was accustomed to calming the boys when they were like this – Michael had often had nightmares during the first weeks after their return from Neverland, and Peter had needed her comforting often enough, even if he didn’t remember it. She bent over James and softly stroked his hot cheeks, saying soothing things to him in a hushed voice.
It didn’t work. Throwing his head from side to side, groaning and moaning, he was caught in a world that seemed to hold only sorrow, pain and great effort for him. He stammered the slurred words, and she thought she could understand ‘father’, ‘no’, ‘I’m so sorry’ and ‘Isabella’. All this could mean only one thing: his memories were returning. And it was obvious that they weren’t pleasant.
Wendy watched him for long moments, but as the first tears ran over his cheeks, she tried to waken him. Even if he had wanted to get his memories back, and she had wanted this as well, he needed to come away from this nightmare that tortured him so much. First whispering, then calling his name and caressing his face she urged him to wake up, but something seemed to distract him. For a moment he opened his eyes, only to close them a second later again and to whimper something she couldn’t understand.
Determined, she stood up, lit several new candles, fetched a glass of fresh water and returned to the bed, stepping carefully around her beautiful dress, lying along with her underwear and shoes on the floor, as well as his clothes.
James had started to thrash, and it was clear that he was fighting in his sleep, almost as if he was trying to escape something. His face was pale and wet with sweat and tears, and his breathing was fast and ragged. With a loud “James? Wake up!” Wendy put the glass at the nightstand and sat down on the bed, bending over him. “James, come on. None of it is real. You’re safe, here with me!” She only got the same results as before. He seemed to calm down a moment, then thrash harder only seconds later.
Sighing, Wendy took the glass and flecked his face with the cool liquid. He jerked again and moaned. She repeated this, and called him. For several moments his struggle against the invisible person was more vehement and he shouted something she didn’t understand, then he woke with a yelp and sat up. His blue eyes were glassy, and he gazed bewildered about him. His breathing was unsteady, and a shiver ran through him. He looked so frightened and lost at that moment that an icy fist seemed to squeeze Wendy’s heart. Without hesitation, she set the glass aside, perched beside him and touched his back. Goosebumps ran over his skin and he lowered his head, while he pressed his eyes shut and tried to regain control.
“James?” Wendy asked quietly, but his only reaction was another shiver and a muffled sob. Sliding close to him, she wrapped her arms around him and felt how he leaned against her. “Hush, my love, everything is all right. I am here,” she whispered and caressed his back and upper arm, while she kissed his unhurt shoulder.
He started to tremble. His skin – hot a moment before – was now cold, and instinctively Wendy pulled one of the blankets to her and wrapped it around him. “Calm down, my love,” she murmured. “What ever you have dreamed, it’s over. You’re safe now; safe and not alone.”
The last words affected him as he sighed deeply and whispered hoarsely: “Never leave me! Please, never leave me!”
She tugged his head under her chin and stroked his curly hair. “Never!” she swore.
“I couldn’t bear it to lose you as well,” he said with a raspy voice. “Not again … Never again this … this …” He stopped and took a trembling breath while he rubbed his hand over his face. For several minutes they only sat together. Wendy held him the entire time while he fought for control. James tried valiantly to send the images away that burned his mind, and to shut out the voices he had heard in long, lonely nights here in his cabin without knowing to whom they belonged. But now he knew. The visions he had, as Blackbeard had told him about his near-execution in London, and about his father, were now clear. He had a dull headache because of all the memories that had rushed back to him.
With a moan, he closed his eyes as his former life passed before them – so long ago, changed by betrayal and injustice. It had not only cost him the life he had been born into, but also those of the people who had been dearest to him. And he didn’t want to remember it. As much as he had desired to lift the mist that had obliterated his memories, he now regretted it. The past was too brutal, the guilt too cruel. He felt the arms of his girl around him, his only light that had come to him in this dark place, which he didn’t curse as vehemently as before. Even in his constant battles with Pan and with the lost of his right hand, he had found here another kind of peace for his tormented soul because of the forgetting – something that had now come to an end. And it hurt; this knowledge of his past. And again it was Wendy’s nearness that soothed the pain to a bearable level, because, after all he had been through before he came to Neverland, he had been convinced he would never find love again. He thanked the Lord that he had been wrong, because without Wendy he would have been lost.
Sighing he burrowed closer to her, winced as the pain shot through his shoulder and burned on his chest, but not for the life of him would he have let go. He smelled her familiar sweet, fresh scent, listened to the soft beat of her heart and let himself drift away in her arms. But in that instant, the memories returned and with a groan he buried his face at her shoulder.
Wendy didn’t stop stroking his back and arm with one hand while she cupped his head with the other one, holding him close to her, massaging gently his scalp. He had calmed down somewhat, but he was still deeply shaken. She didn’t dare ask him what memories had stirred him so, for first he had to handle them for himself. When he was finally ready to speak, she would listen, but she would not urge him.
Finally, much later, he lifted his head and cleared his throat. Somewhat embarrassed, he bit his lips and murmured a “Sorry, my love.”
Wendy smiled softly. “You’re welcome.” She gently swept a strand of hair from his face and met his gaze. She saw the lasting torment in his eyes and it hurt her almost as much as him, even if she didn’t know what tortured him so. She bent forward and kissed him lightly – a gesture of comfort, to show him that she was there for him.
A quick smile tugged at his mouth, but it vanished. He lowered his gaze for a moment and asked: “Would you please give me rum, my dear? I feel sick.”
Normally she would have tried to put him off strong alcohol in his condition, but in this case she sensed that it would be better to comply. So she softly disengaged herself from him and filled a small glass of the fluid. After hesitating, she filled a second glass and returned to the bed. He smiled when he saw that she had poured herself a drink as well, and said softly, “This is new.”
Her smile widened. “ ’Sometimes everyone is needs a drink’ says my aunt. And she is quite strict.” She slipped beside him under the blankets and lifted her glass. “To your health!” She drank the first sip, feeling again the sensations she felt the first time several days ago: it was hot. Reacting animatedly, she gasped for air, catching his familiar smirk. She tried another sip, and this time, he had to slap her on her back, the drink so strong that it burnt in her throat. She heard his chuckle, and she knew her momentary suffering was well worth seeing his mood lift again. Taking his glass now, which he had clamped between his knees to pat her back, he emptied it with one swallow and set it aside. “Your really must have an iron stomach,” she managed to say and wiped her eyes.
“Rum is not for little girls,” he teased and earned a pouting gaze. For a long moment, he forgot his bitter past, but then it returned and his countenance fell.
Sensing his dark mood returning she set her glass aside and slid nearer to him, wrapping one arm around his waist. “What tormented you so, my love? Memories of Isabella?”
He jerked and looked at her, startled. “Where did you hear that name?” he asked hoarsely.
Wendy took a deep breath. “You talked in your sleep. You called for your father, and said that you were sorry. And you called for a woman named Isabella.” He lowered his head. For a long moment Wendy waited, then she took heart, and leaned her cheek against his shoulder. “Do you want to tell me about it?” she asked quietly and let her gaze take in his face. He stared silently into the distance. She thought he had forgotten her when, with a very low voice, he started to speak.
“She was the sort of woman who could make a young man forget his training, forget his family, forget his virtue, convince him to risk anything for her – and lose everything.” His voiced faded while he glared at the memory. Wendy sensed that he wanted to speak about it, that the burden was too heavy to carry alone – especially since it had come back in a rush.
Tugging the blanket firmly around him and snuggling as closely as possible, she reached for his mutilated arm and cupped it softly with her left hand, while her right arm slipped back around his waist. James looked down on the perfect, pearl-white hand that seemed to protect the vulnerable unsightliness, and felt a part of the pressure of the nightmare drifting away. As long as she was near, his soul could not be harmed further. Wrapping his left arm around her shoulder, he gave in to his need to speak from his soul, knowing with gratitude that he was no longer alone, and that there was someone whom he could trust with anything. Taking a deep breath he began.
“Her name was Isabella Maria Pomery, Countess of Sussex. Her father was Edward Pomery, Count of Sussex, her mother a Spanish noblewoman. She left her country, despite the continuous hostilities between England and Spain, because she loved him.” James’ voice rumbled slowly from him, as if his soul were thousands of miles and decades away. “My parents and I were invited to their residence for a garden party. It was there I met Isabella.” He stopped for a moment and a softer expression spread over his pale face. “She was one of the most beautiful women England had ever seen, a classic beauty with the noble Spanish features of her mother and her thick, dark hair, as well as her temper. From her father, she had the lighter eyes and the strong will. She was the perfect mixture of innocence, lust for life and recklessness – almost like you are.” His gaze found hers, and for a moment he feared that his comparison between her and his first love would hurt her, but he saw only understanding and a soft compassion. Sighing with relief he continued.
“I courted her and – miracle of miracles! – she in turn accepted me, defying the will of her father. She was promised to Lord Brixton, a confidant of Wilhelm III, who was going to rule the colonies in the new world. But Isabella and I were in love, and we were determined to risk anything for our love. We decided to flee, and to make our own home. My family was rich, and I knew that I had my father’s support. I told him of our plan, and even though he didn’t approve, he promised us help. He paid out my inheritance and booked passage on one of the merchant ships that supplied the colonies. Isabella and I wanted to start our new life there, in a new world.
“After all the arrangements were settled, I sent Isabella a message to meet me the following evening near the house of her father’s land administrator.” He pulled Wendy closer to him and she saw his face darkening. “We were betrayed – by her brother who had learned of our plan.” Wendy started, seeing the parallel to her and John, and wondered what would have happened if her brother had learned about her secret while she remained on the island. She doubted that she could have found a way back to James with John’s interference.
James voiced tore her away from her own thoughts. “Late that evening, when Isabella and I met, her father’s guards lurked nearby, led by her brother. Within seconds, my servant, myself and Isabella were surrounded. What I was attempting was a crime, and her brother demanded satisfaction from me. Isabella begged her brother to let it be, and he agreed, if I would surrender. I didn’t want to frighten her nor harm her brother, so I was ready to lay down my weapons. As I took out my pistol to throw it away, he pulled his own out and aimed it at me. I was quicker…” Wendy felt tears springing to her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away.
James pressed his lips together and took a very deep breath. “My servant managed to escape with me in the ensuing chaos and accompanied me to safety. But looking back, I think the only reason we escaped was because of Isabella, who confused the guards. Perhaps she simply panicked, or was incoherent with shock. I’m not sure, because all I remember after that was a wild flight through the forest and that my servant pulling the reins of my horse along with his.
“For days we wandered through the south of England. Then, in a tavern, we heard that the murderer of the young Count of Sussex had been sentenced to death by hanging in absentium, and that there was a considerable reward offered. So, my servant and I put our finery away and pretended to be beggars. They searched everywhere for us and in bad times, betrayal is easy – especially after the three countries of Great Britain, Scotland, Ireland and England, had been forced together under the Cromwell and the people still suffered from hunger and lack. So, I decided to return to my father’s castle. From there, I planned to prove that I wasn’t guilty – that I had only defended myself. Isabella had been a witness of the cowardly attack by her brother and his guards as well. My parents were rich, had great influence and descended from ancient name. I was convinced that I would disclose the truth, but I never reached our ancestral seat. Nearly arriving in London, we were caught.
“My servant was killed instantly – he never had a chance – and I was brought to the Tower. They took everything from me – particularly the money my father had given to me – and locked me in a dirty whole with straw and rats, chained up like an animal.” Wendy bit her lips as she saw the similarity between his imprisonment in the Tower and the bilge three days ago. Instinctively she stretched herself and kissed him softly, hearing a sigh from him. “I demanded a lawyer, but because I had already been sentence to die, and nobody dared to arouse Wilhelm’s anger, they only sent me an old man who took my deposition and vanished, never to be seen again – after he sent me message that he ‘to his truthful regret’ couldn’t to anything for me.”
Wendy felt chills run over her back. “But … but that was wrong! They should have heard your case. After all, you had rights as well!”
A bitter smile touched his mouth. “When you have personally wakened the king’s anger, then you have lost all rights. I dared to interfere with his plans by attempting to run away with Isabella. Lord Brixton only wanted to move to the colonies with her, and Wilhelm needed a loyal friend there. He came from the Netherlands and was married to Maria II of the Stewards. After the civil war in the middle of the 17th century, many people still lived in misery and most of them distrusted him, even after he had signed the Bill of Rights, which gave parliament more authority. A new rebellion was a present danger – especially from the old nobility, which thought giving parliament more freedom was scandalous, and didn’t like a foreign king. With my execution, he could kill two birds with one stone, for by eliminating me, he had one less danger from the old loyalties, and Lord Brixton could take over governorship in the colonies.”
In his imagination, James saw the small dark room, which had been his last ‘home’. He smelled the rotting food and flesh around him, the blood, the rank sweat, the taste of the stale water and the pulp he ate. Two days a week he got water to wash himself, but that was the only ‘luxury’ they had conceded. And then one of the guards told him that the gallows had been made ready for him. He knew again the sinking feeling in his stomach and the icy coldness that had reached into his soul, until—
Shaking his head he went on: “Four weeks I stayed in that rank, dark hole with only a small grated window. The day before my execution, in the late evening, the pardon came. My sentence had been changed from execution to forced labor. My father had used his influence and had given his whole fortune and more to save me. He had borrowed money to pay the king’s demand. The money I had carried with me had disappeared – of course.
“They wouldn’t allow me to meet with my father one last time. I was taken aboard ship with a variety of villains, and together we were deported. For seven weeks, we were locked up below, never seeing daylight – in icy coldness at first and then in heat like an oven. We only received one bowl of water a day, a ladle of porridge and a piece of bread. Many of my fellow-prisoners went insane and were discarded overboard. Our attendants tormented us for their own amusement; those who dared to speak out against this treatment got lashed or killed. When we started from England, there were 171 prisoners. Only ninety-eight survived.”
He grew silent again, and Wendy felt her tears falling. She’d always known that he wasn’t a commoner, that he had to come from nobility, but never she thought about it thoroughly. Her fingers trembled, as she stroked his back. Until several days ago she had always thought of him as being the aggressor, but, in reality, he had been the victim. Kissing his shoulder she managed to distract him for a moment and felt his lips on her temple. “How did you escape?” she whispered and a dry chuckle sounded in his throat.
“Several days before we reached our destination, we were attacked by pirates. They killed the crew after they feigned surrender and struck back after the attackers were aboard. The pirate-captain made us an offer - join his crew or be sold. You’ll find no more loyal a man than one who’s been freed from prison or slavery. The captain who took our ship was Captain Barbeque – a giant of a man with red hair and a rough humor. But he wasn’t the savage I expected a pirate to be. He came from the lower stand, all right, but he could write and read, which was unusual.”
Wendy had to smile at this – for in her day most everyone could write and read, but at James’ time only the nobility were educated as part of growing up. “Barbeque was delighted when he learned that one of the prisoners could perform this ‘high art’ as well,” Hook continued. “He offered me a place on his crew. In earlier times, I would have preferred to die rather than to ally myself with a gang of criminals, but I had to think of my family. I knew that my father had incurred large debts to ransom me, and I was determined to repay him and restore his fortune, so I accepted Barbeque’s offer.” His gaze fixed again on the past. “For years, I learned under his command. He was amused by my eagerness to learn, and he showed me how to run a ship and taught me all things nautical – the different currents, how they ran around cliffs and through the deeps; the subtlety of the sails and riggings; how to use the weight of a ship and so on. And I could help him with what I’d learned at Eton.”
Wendy’s eyes widened. “YOU went to Eton?” she blurted out.
A smile graced his features. “Aye. I was there for four years – as far as I can remember. What I learned there helped me my whole life. That’s why I chose its emblem for my first tattoo.” Wendy edged away and looked more closely at his left upper arm, finally recognizing the device. With her fingertips she outlined the dark sign she knew so well from the letters her father received as he registered John and Nibs there for their study next year. In James’ time, Eton was reserved for the nobility. Now any student who complied with conditions was accepted.
She met his gaze. “What a combination,” she said. “An experienced pirate and an Eton graduate. Poor merchant ships!”
James chuckled and nodded. “Yes, we were quite the pair – after I gained the respect of the crew.” He took her hand in his and looked down on their entwined fingers. “The first months were the worst,” he murmured. “Barbeque’s crew consisted of strong and unscrupulous men with years of experience, and I was only a young sheltered man, and weakened by nearly three months in prison and on a prison ship, and not familiar with the rough habits of a ship.
Hook chuckled. “Once or twice, I would surely have fallen victim to their brutal humor if it hadn’t been for one well respected man who placed himself between them and me to protect me when necessary. He was a crazy old hen, sometimes bizarre, but he wore his heart on the right spot and, seemed to have decided to turn ‘t’is scrawny young pretender’ into a true buccaneer. I think sometimes it was only his thickheaded support and urging that made me go on.” He sighed and looked back into the blue-grey pools before him, watching with so much compassion and seriousness at him.
“Who was this man?” Wendy asked, though she had an idea who it was. A thickhead and a little bit strange – a ‘crazy old hen’? Yes, she knew exactly to whom this description fitted. “Mr. Smee,” she answered her own question.
Hook smiled. “Yes. Our good and loyal Bryan Smee.” Wendy blinked as she heard the boatswain’s given name the first time. “He’s been at my side ever since,” James sighed, and pulled her closer to him again; needing her nearness more than anything else in these moments. “I owe him my life, otherwise I wouldn’t have survived the first two battles. He was always at my side, encouraging, protecting me over and over again. He always campaigned for me – God alone knows why.”
He shook his head. “Over the years I learned all the duties of a captain, and saved all the booty I got. Five years later, I had a fine sum together, and accompanied Barbeque during a visit in Port Royal. We had to be careful, for Port Royal was, after an earthquake destroyed it several decades ago, completely under the control of the Crown. But I knew that I the only news I could get about home was there. In a tavern, dressed like a nobleman, I met two soldiers who came from the same shire as I, and from them I learned of the fate of my family.” He shuddered and Wendy tightened her embrace, sensing that the worst was yet to come.
“My father was unable to repay the debts he had incurred for me. No one would give any more credit. He sold our horses and some of our land, but it wasn’t enough to pay them off. Finally, two years before, his creditor arrived with a royal resolution of expropriation. None of our friends helped, for everyone knew that we had fallen from grace. My father was locked into debtor’s prison, where he died a half year later. My mother had died a month before – ostensibly by a lung disease, but I think her heart was broken.”
His voice faded. His face was pale and hard as stone, but his eyes were wet. Even now, after all this time, it hurt to think about it. Wendy’s eyes were blurred by tears as well. Her tender heart conjured the image of her own family suffering a similar fate, and it hurt terribly, and to know now what James had been through shocked her. There was really no question why he had turned into the cold and bitter buccaneer she had met her first time in Neverland.
James cleared his throat. It was the first time he’d ever spoken to someone about his history, except Smee, whom he spilled his guts to after he’d returned from Jamaica and had gotten drunk. “After I learned what happened to my family, I swore revenge. Wilhelm III was dead and the Empire was ruled by his daughter who had given the order to oust my parents. I thought I could avenge my family by capturing her ships, but Barbeque had a letter of privateer which gave him protection from the English Crown, because he robbed for the queen – especially during the Spanish Succession. So it came to pass that we found ourselves at odds. I couldn’t understand any longer why I would risk my life day after day and give a portion to ‘Her Highness’, who was richer than most other royal families in Europe, and whose avarice had cost my parents their lives.
“Several weeks later we met four Spanish naval ships, which would normally have been our death. But I remembered a strategy of Alexander the Great that I learned at Eton. Barbeque didn’t want to listen to me, but when I told my plan to the crew, they insisted on it. Barbeque had no choice but to go along. After all, he was only chosen, like every other pirate captain, and the crew had the right to decide together what to do.
“To make a long story short, we won. Even if he now owed me his life, he was angry with me. Two months later, we captured a Spanish galleon, and he wanted to sink the ship. It was large and not well armed. But I saw potential in the vessel, and wanted to keep it. And, by the way, he wanted to take no prisoners, and there were ladies on board as well, and mistreating women is against our rules. At this, it came to an open fight between the two of us. Barbeque accused me mutiny, which could mean my death. But many of the crew were on my side, and asked me to show him how much I had learned.
“We crossed our swords. The fight lasted almost a half hour, but in the end, he lost, and I took the galleon and almost the half of his crew with me. Of course, Smee accompanied me as well. I brought the prisoners to an island often visited by merchant ships so that they could continue their careers. Then I went south and armed the ship with additional cannons I bought from my personal booty. After I captured a sloop, I gave the galleon to a shipbuilder in Georgia with specific instructions as to how I wanted it modified. My official story was that this was a merchant ship, and I wanted to have a ship I could defend from pirates, so every wish was fulfilled. It took over six months before it was ready, but you’re well familiar with the results.”
“The Jolly Roger!” Wendy whispered.
“Aye. I chose my emblem: a skull and crossed swords, the way I got her and my status of a captain, and dubbed the ship with the name of the black flag of liberty.” He sighed. “After that I started my campaign of revenge. Every English ship, that crossed my path, I captured. The entire sum my father owed his creditors and, with that, the royals, isn’t a tenth of what they’ve lost by now to me.”
He fell silent, and Wendy tried to blink her tears away. The cruelty which had turned the man at her side into a criminal had been repaid in its own coin. And then, he lost his right hand and was a prisoner at this island for an eternity. It was a miracle that he was still able to feel love. That reminded her of the reason for the whole mess. “What about Isabella? Did you ever see her again?” she asked hesitantly as she saw the new pain in his eyes, ”or does it hurt too much to tell?” she added.
He glanced at her but saw no jealously, only sympathy, sorrow and love. It gave him the strength to tell, for the first time, about that moment he’d seen Isabella again – after many years. No one – not even Smee – knew about it. He took a deep breath. “Shortly after I put to sea with the Jolly Roger, and joined the Fraternity of Pirate-Captains, I seized an English schooner. Its freight was nothing to speak of, but it had female passengers, which is not usual. Normally you’ll find passengers on merchant vessels, but not on naval. After we defeated the crew, I looked over the women. One of the ladies was … Isabella!” The lines between his eyes grew more prominent. “I recognized her immediately, even if she was only a shadow of her former self. She was still the beauty I remembered, but her eyes were empty, without any life, like those of a corpse.”
He whispered now, and Wendy had difficulty understanding him. “Her Abigail told me – after I asked her several times – that she had married Lord Brixton at the insistence of her father. The death of her brother had been a blow to her, of course, nevertheless she remained faithful to her ‘absent lover’ who had killed her brother, and tried to save him from execution. At the time I had been held captive in the Tower, she tried to have me freed, but her father interceded in the last minute, and forbade her to travel to London. As they brought me to the ship for deportation, she had attacks of hysteria, and three months later, when the message came about the pirates’ raid on our ship, they told her I had been killed. That … finished it.”
A single tear ran over his pale cheek. “Her Abigail said that in the night, as the news of my death arrived, something inside her broke, and her soul ‘followed’ me. In a way, she was right. Isabella didn’t recognize me as I stood that October morning before her there in the Caribbean Sea. She was pleasant, polite – polite phrases, but nothing more. She seemed to be confined in her own world, and I had to address her several times, before she would respond. She was like an empty shell – without life and soul.”
He swallowed hard and took a shuddering breath while he pressed Wendy hard against him. She didn’t mind, even if it nearly hurt. She could see the reawakening shock and horror in his eyes, and she knew that he never had allowed the pain out – until now. Wrapping her arms even more firmly around him she gave him time to regain control.
Finally, he thrust out his chin and looked away into the dim light of his cabin. “I left her ship, spared the lives of the crew, and took care that they had enough provisions and fresh water to reach safe harbor. That was the last I ever saw her.” He lowered his gaze and felt Wendy’s soft lips on his cheek. Looking down at her he saw her tear-stricken face and felt a pang of guilt. She was so warm-hearted and kind; of course it had grieved her to hear all this. Then he realized how hard he pressed her to his body and loosened his grip. “Sorry, my love,” he murmured and kissed her forehead.
“For what?” she asked, snuggling closer to him again. “I am sorry for all that happened to you. And I thought of you always as the villain. Hell, you’ve never been!”
He stroked her bare back. “You’re wrong, my dearest Wendy. Yes, fate wasn’t good to me, but what I’ve done during my ‘career’ wasn’t noble, believe me. Sometimes, when I remember some of the raids, I’m ashamed of myself.”
Wendy pulled his head down to her and kissed him. He tasted the salt of her tears and felt her lips trembling, but her kiss was sweet, warm and full of comfort and love – and it calmed his shaken soul and nerves. And then, suddenly, he remembered something more. He had felt passion with Isabella, possibly almost with the same intensity as with Wendy, but it had never been with this complete devotion and tenderness. Perhaps because he was an experienced man by now and not a half-grown boy anymore, blinded by his first love. Or possibly because of what he had been through that he felt love now in this all-consuming way. He didn’t know, because the only thing that counted now was her nearness and their feelings for each other.
“Don’t cry, my sweet,” he whispered. “It was so long ago, and to tell the truth, it doesn’t hurt that much. Yes, I still feel sorrow for the life I could have had, but it fades more and more – even now, after I once again remember. Because of you!” She lifted her head; her wet eyes were big and asking. A smile tugged at his mouth. God, she looked so young in this moment! He captured her lips with his and pulled her to his lap. “I’m honest, Wendy, without you I would feel lost right now.”
He laid his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. “Most of my life, I’ve searched for vengeance -- first for the injustice that was done to me, then for the death of my parents, and finally for the loss of my hand.” He opened his eyes again and Wendy felt that she would drown in the blue depths now burning with intensity, hope and love. “But in your arms in the last weeks I’ve learned that there are other things in life that make living worthwhile.”
He relaxed into the pillows, pulling her along with him. She lay almost on top of him and he could feel her silken skin on his; the warmth of her body chasing the chill of the painful memories away; her heart beating with his as one. “I love you!” he said slowly, letting his gaze roam over the face over him. “Please stay with me!”
A smile played around her luscious lips while she sniffled: “I gave you my word and now I reaffirm it: I will never leave you. I swear it!” She bent down and kissed his lids and nose, his cheeks and forehead and finally his mouth. Her urge to protect him and to chase all the haunting thoughts away was overwhelming. She felt his arms encircling her and buried her face at his throat, breathing deeply. “Try to forget, James. I will help you.”
Feeling exhausted and relieved in one, he sighed. It had been good to talk about it all, especially after all the painful memories had rushed back to him. He looked up and thanked the Lord that He had taken mercy on him, and had sent him this angel in a human body. “I think, the fairy-queen was right that you have to leave something behind in order to reach another one,” he said slowly. “Until now, I thought she only meant the whole untidiness of the last days, but now I am convinced that she meant myself. If I hadn’t navigated the Jolly Roger by accident to Neverland, I would never have met you. It could be that I had to go through all that to finally find peace in your arms.”
Wendy lifted her head again and looked down on him. “Do you believe this?” He thoughtfully nodded. A wide, warm smile lit up her face and a chuckle escaped her. “Would you look at this? My fierce, grim and proud pirate-captain has a romantic side.”
He stared at her and then rolled his eyes. “Don’t you dare to say that out loud. I have a reputation to maintain!”
Wendy had to laugh now. “Sweetheart, the whole crew knows you love me, and they’re men as well. So be certain of this: you can’t claim that you have no soft spot.”
He groaned, while he felt his mood lift by the second. She had done it again: Whenever darkness threatened to overpower him, she was his steady light, and chased the shadows away. He turned to his left side, while he still held her close. Smiling at her he murmured: “You’ve ruined me, pussycat, do you know that?”
She smiled back. “A small payback, since you robbed my innocence.”
His smile turned into his smirk. “Which you were so eager to give me.”
A deep blush spread over her face, but she giggled. “Yes, after you tested your powers of seduction with me.”
“Do you regret it?” he asked quietly and Wendy shook her head.
“No! Not one single second! I would never have wanted any other man to take me into across that threshold, only you.”
Taking a deep breath, he felt joy almost consuming him. For this he had waited all his life without even knowing it. Huddling in her arms, he murmured, “Hold me!” and he wasn’t the slightest bit embarrassed to sound like a little boy. He knew that in the coming nights he would again get nightmares. No one could regain such memories and staying untouched by them. But he also knew that he wouldn’t wake up in an empty cabin, and that he needn’t face the loneliness anymore. His sweet girl was with him, and this was all he needed.
Sighing, he closed his eyes and heard her soft voice saying: “Try to get some sleep, James. I will hold you, whatever will come.”
“Thank you,” he whispered and felt himself relaxing. He would relish these quiet hours in his quarters before he had to check on ship and crew, and there were still the prisoners, the wounded crew, a common-room full of boys and … Pan. He knew he had to talk with the boy, and found he even wanted to. He was curious as to why Peter had saved him. He thought he knew the answer – Wendy! – but he really wanted to know details. But there was time enough for this tomorrow. For now, he wanted nothing more than a dreamless sleep in the arms of his love, and with a deep sigh, he relaxed completely, until he felt the urge to find forgetting in her arms in another way. Opening one eye he peeked at her.
“Darling?” he asked, using her family-name again as a kind of nick-name.
A grumble was the answer.
“You’re tired?”
An affirming sound drifted to his ear.
“Very tired?”
Again she made the same throaty noise.
“Too tired?”
She looked at him and as she saw the burning yearning in his eyes, she had to giggle. “No,” she whispered and turned on her back, as he slid gently over her.

Neither saw the two small shimmering figures at the window, listening to the whole story and exchanging long glances before they flew up, vanishing in the darkness of the night…

TBC…
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In the swirl of passion