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Hook and the Mermaid	By : HerverusGrape Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Het Views: 5297 -:- 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
- 3
- 4
- 5
HATM 4
Chapter 4
A Long Night's Journey Into Day

As the ship's outline came into view, Fee wearily closed her eyes and allowed a long, sad sigh to escape from her lips. After all of the shocks and disappointments of the evening, she felt inexpressibly weary and drained. Her body, still tightly bound by the coils of rope and the net, felt heavy and useless and a dark depression was swiftly descending upon her spirit. She did not watch as Hook clambered up the side of the boat and then directed the pirates as they placed her in a sling and used a windlass to hoist her over the side onto the deck.
She ventured to open her eyes as they picked her up and carried her through a doorway into a compartment within the ship, but she could only make out vague shapes in the dim light. Then she was placed down upon the floor again, and heard Hook shout out orders for lamps to be lit. The sudden brightness was decidedly painful after the prolonged gloom, and she winced and blinked as her eyes gradually adjusted to the new light. Once her vision had cleared, she realized to her horror that the pirates were staring down at her with undisguised lust upon their dirty faces. Glancing down, she realized that her hair had been swept back behind her shoulders during the struggle. Her bare breasts were fully exposed, the black criss-crossing of the netting digging painfully against the firm white flesh and pale pink nipples.
"She is a beauty, Captain," ventured one of the men, as the others murmured and whistled softly in approval.
She shut her eyes again and shivered involuntarily. She had fully expected that Hook had taken her for his own pleasure, but she was now beginning to fear that he meant to share her with his entire crew. By the looks of their faces, she expectat aat any moment for their filthy, clumsy hands to be upon her, pawing and mauling her soft flesh while rough fingers wrenched apart the fins covering the intimate part of her body.
"Yes," retorted Hook coolly. "And I trust she is also wise enough to know that any further disobedience will not be tolerated," he added, a definite tone of warning in his voice. "Cut through her bonds," he ordered.
Keeping her eyes shut tightly, Fee bit the inside of her cheek and forced herself to remain absolutely still as she felt the cold steel of a blade press against her body as they began to cut away the rope and the netting. In truth, she had already decided that there was no point in trying to fight them off. She hardly had no intention of being a willing partner to any of them. But she had decided that they would merely be amused and perhaps aroused by any further attempts on her part to fight them off, and that a silent, passive resistance might mean that her ordeal would be over as quickly as possible.
Trying to remain very still, she felt her heart begin to start hammering against her chest, and was aware of a painful tingling as the circulation returned to the areas of her body where the coils had dug down into her skin. The rope and net were tossed to the side and she stifled a cry as she felt fingers wrap themselves around her wrists and pull her arms above her head. At the same time, other hands were thrust underneath her tail and she found herself being lifted into the air again.
She assumed they were carrying her over to one of their beds-for one of the mermaids had told her once that land-dwellers slept and mated upon strange platforms built above the ground. Instead, she gasped in shock as the hands suddenly released their hold and she felt herself falling into lukewarm, salty water instead.
She opened her eyes just in time to see a thick oak board with several large holes bored through it slam down onto the top of the tank. Turning to the side, she saw Hook place a huge padlock through two heavy metal loops and snap it shut in order to hold the lid closed. As her hands reached out and made contact with the sparkling glass at the sides of the tank he smiled down at her and rapped his knuckles againthe the sturdy lid, nodding in satisfaction at the sound of the dense wood. Behind him, the pirates were beginning to file out of the room, some of them looking quite disappointed and throwing jealous glances at the back of their captain's head.
Hook turned away from the tank and walked over to his desk. A moment later, Fee was startled to find Smee's bearded face appearing in front of her, as he bent down and smiled at her through the glass.
"I'm sorry, Miss," he said, his voice somewhat distorted as it traveled through the water to her ears.
She stared at him and moved onto her side, her forehead wrinkled in a puzzled frown, wondering why he was daring to apologize in front of Hook for what had happened to her.
"The Captain wasn't real clear on what he was hunting for tonight," he explained, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm afraid the tank is rather plain. Would you like it if I found you some pretty shells, or some nice-colored coral or a bit of nice, white sand to put on the bottom?" he asked, his voice soft and concerned.
Somehow, it was even harder for Fee to look into his honest, friendly eyes than it had been to stare into the faces of the leering pirates. She shook her head and turned away from him, staring out through the glass to the wall of the cabin.
"You can decorate her pen tomorrow," interjected Hook, irritably. "Right now, I want you to go fetch me some supper."
"Aye, aye, Captain," said Smee, his manner deferential and amiable as ever. "There's still a good bit of that leg of mutton remaining, along with some potatoes and fresh-baked bread. And, uh-" He paused and looked over at the tank.
"Yes, bring something for her as well," he answered, moving to undo the buttons of his coat.
"What do mermaids eat?" asked Smee, honestly perplexed.
Hook glanced at the tank, but if Fee had overheard the question, she did not seem inclined to answer the question.
"I suppose they normally eat things they find in the sea," he answered slowly, rather annoyed with himself for not thinking of such things before.
"Cooked or uncooked?"
Hook's frown deepened as he pondered the matter. "I assume uncooked," he admitted, finally. To be honest, the thought of watching her feast upon a raw fish or a live, snapping lobster bothered him more than he cared to admit. "But I suppose bread would be easy enough for her to digest. And I have seen mermaids sitting upon the rocks and stuffing themselves with fruit that has dropped from the trees into the lagoon."
"Yes," said Smee, nodding his head in agreement. "I'll bring some pears and apples as well," he declared, as he hurried out to make his way towards the galley.
As the door slammed shut behind Smee, Hook shrugged off his coat and hung it over the back of his chair. Unwinding the gun belts from over his shoulders he lad them upon the desk and then raised his hand to head and swept off his hat as well, laying it on top of his pistol. Sitting down, he turned his attention to his handkerchief-wrapped hand. Slowly pulling off the red-stained cloth, he studied his damaged finger intently for a moment. Raising his hand in the air, he gingerly flexed the joints and grimaced as it began to throb in pain, and saw a small droplet of blood make its way from the clotted surface of the wound. He supposed he had better have Smee attend to it properly when he returned.
Returning his gaze to the tank, he silently perused Fee's form as she remained turned away from him. She had modestly drawn her hair to her front again and her bare back and shoulders appeared smooth and white in the warm light of the lamps. He ran his eyes down the delicate curve of her spine and smiled to himself as he observed the gently rounded rump that was covered in small, gleaming scales. Perhaps he had been too long without a woman, but he would swear at the moment that the sight of her little green backside made a pair of firm, smooth buttocks look quite pedestrian in comparison. Allowing his gaze to travel down the rest of her body, he frowned as he observed that the ragged tear in her tail fin. He supposed that for a mermaid, a fin might be as free of sensation as a fingernail for a human-but he rather doubted it. In any case, the wound certainly looked painful.
"Damn Rogers to hell!" he thought, shaking his head in disgust. "Couldn't he have just stepped on her tail with the front of his boot rather than mashing down upon it with his heel?"
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts on the matter. Smee entered, holding a board upon which was placed a large bowl of steaming water, a small towel and a small metal box.
"Your food will be here directly, Captain," he said, setting down his burden. "But I thought I'd better tend to that bite first," he said, nodding at the blood handkerchief lying in front of Hook. Opening the lid of the box, he removed two small bottles, a sewing needle and thread, and a large handful of clean, white cloths.
"Very good, Smee," he answered, and held out his hand.
A few mes les later, the wound had been cleaned and dressed, Smee spending a few minutes tut-tutting over the gash before deciding that stitches would not be needed. Just as he was finishing tying the ends of the bandage together, there was another knock upon the door and a pirate entered bearing a large tray upon which several dishes and plates had been arranged.
Smee handed the captain a large, white napkin and dished out a plentiful supply of meat and potatoes onto his plate before pouring out a small measure of wine into one of his glasses fashioned from a sea shell. Picking up one of the large, red apples from the tray, he used one of the sharp knives to deftly cut it into eight even segments and piled them onto a small plate.
"Shall I-?" he began, motioning in Fee's direction.
"No," replied Hook, waving his hand impatiently. &;"L;"Leave it on the desk for now."
Smee nodded and placed the dish down upon the highly polished wood. "Anything else, Captain?"
"No, you may leave," he said, unfolding his napkin and arranging it carefully across his lap.
Smee nodded again and turned to make his way to the door, but the other pirate was still standing in one spot, gazing fixedly at Fee's form within the sparkling glass tank.
"You may go," Hook repeated pointedly.
But still Smee had to tap the man on the shoulder before he turned with a start and followed him out of the door.
Raising the shell to his lips, Hook took a large sip of the wine, using his tongue to swirl the red liquid in his mouth for several seconds in order to fully appreciate the taste and bouquet of the vintage before he swallowed it. Leaning back in his chair, he continued to stare at Fee as he tilted his head back to drain the rest of the wine.
"An excellent wine," he thought, setting the vessel back down upon the desk. "Perhaps a glass or two would help put my 'guest' in a more amiable mood." With a smile, he turned in his chair and retrieved another shell-glass from the cupboard. Picking up the wine bottle, he refilled his own glass and had begun to pour a few drops into the second before abruptly stopping as a frown crossed his face.
He had assumed that since mermaids ate, that they were capable of drinking as well. But it had just occurred to him that he had never seen a mermaid drink out of any kind of vessel. And things like glasses filled with liquid would certainly be useless underneath the water, wouldn't they?
Setting the bottle down with a thump, he picked up his own glass and took another large gulp.
Perhaps they simply absorb sea water and ther liquids through their skin?
Taking another swallow, he rubbed his forehead tiredly with his hook. He had to admit that it was there were a great many details about the living habits of mermaids that he had not given much thought to before deciding to capture one to keep for himself. He had no clue as to what they ate or drank or even-
He sighed and leaned back in his chair again, his gaze returning to the tank.
He was certain that it was possible for a mermaid to provide sexual solace for a human male-there was certainly rumors and whispers that lucky pirates had, upon occasion, disported themselves themselves with the half-human creatures. But as to just how that joining was accomplished, he was finding himself shockingly ignorant. Her upper body was exquisitely womanly, the sightrher her generous and firm bosom arousing him most pleasurably. But beneath her waist, her body appeared to be a solid appendage, covered on every square inch with shiny, close-set scales and fins, with not a hint of a depression or an orifice as far as he could discern. Of course, he had not yet examined her quite as closely as he would like, but at the moment he had to admit that he was baffled as to exactly how he was supposed to steer his 'ship' into her 'harbor', as it were.
And unfortunately the other pirates seemed just as eager as he was to explore her pretty little form. He supposed, in retrospect, it would have been wiser to wait a bit longer after reasserting himself as their leader before having the audacity to claim her as his prize. They had certainly seemed reluctant to leave the cabin, throwing covetous looks upon his prisoner. But he would make it clear that anyone daring to lay a hand upon her would find himself having to answer to his hook.
Not this hook, of course, he thought, turning his eyes to the delicate appendage he was sporting this evening. While highly decorative, it was hardly the awe-inspiring weapon that he usually wore. He snorted softly through his nose as he twisted his wrist and let the lamplight glint off of the polished metal.
Much good it had done him to wear this elegant prosthesis this evening-she had regarded him with a mixture of terror and loathing. And while he was not above using her fear as a means of asserting his dominance over her, there was a part of him that had secretly hoped she would have been delighted to find out who her admirer was.
Raising his hand to the hook, he allowed his fingers to travel lightly over the shiny, smooth surface of the metal. Perhaps, he thought, turning his eyes to Fee again, it would be to his advantage to try and flatter her with soft words and kind gestures. She had certainly seemed receptive to them the other night.
He pushed back from the desk, deliberately allowing the chair legs to squeak loudly against the floorboards. Rising to his feet, he picked up the plate upon which Smee had placed the apple slices. After a moment's hesitation, he added a piece of bread to the dish as well, and then reached out to pick up the bot wi with his hook and pour some wine o tho the second shell-glass.
He could at least offer her the wine he supposed.
With the dish grasped in his hand and the glass balanced upon his hook, he walked over to the tank very slowly, making no attempt to silence the sound of his footsteps, noting that her body had stiffened perceptively as he made his way towards her. Stopping at the side of the tank, he looked down at her and waited several seconds for her to acknowledge his presence. Instead, she remained on her side, looking in the opposite direction and staring at the cabin wall.
"I have brought you some food and drink," he said, keeping his voice casual and polite.
Fee made no reply.
Forcing a solicitous smile upon his face, Hook stepped around to the other side of the tank, placing himself directly in front of her. Bending down, he held out the plate and glass in front of her.
"Come now, it is quite good," he urged.
She kept her eyes focused on the wall behind him, refusing to look him in the face or spare even a glance in the direction of the food.
"Or if there is something else you would prefer, I am sure Smee would be happy to prepare it for you."
The occasional blink of her eyes was the only discernible movement.
"I am truly sorry that you were injured," he added, setting down the plate and cup down upon the lid. His voice was low and contrite. "Smee brought some medicine for my finger," he said, waving his bandaged hand in front of the glass. "Perhaps we should put some on your damaged fin as well?"
For a moment, Fee's eyes moved to Hook's face, throwing him a look of utter contempt. "No," she mouthed, closing her eyes and turning upon her back with her arms folded tightly over her chest.
Hook took a step towards the tank and bent down so that he could gaze at Fee's face through the holes that were drilled in the lid.
"My dear Fiona," he said, his tone still low, but no longer apologetic. "Your stay here can either be very enjoyable for both of us, or very..." he paused and tapped his hook against the lid before continuing, "...unpleasant for you.".
Fee's eyes opened slightly, and Hook was surprised that she looked angry rather than scared.
"So I would suggest that you start cooperating with me," he said, moving to retrieve the dish and the cup. "For I assure you that you would prefer to be receiving presents rather than punishments at my hand."
Fee's hand moved up to caress the pearl that was still tangled in the hair at her temple.
"Yes, presents such as that pearlbsp;bsp;As I said, I am quite prepared to be generous with you," he continued, raising his voice slightly as he moved back towards the desk. "If you please me, I will be most happy to pamper and reward you with music and jewels-"
He stopped and turned his head at the sound of something skittering across the floor behind him. It took a few seconds for him to recognize it as the pearl, with several of Fee's long blonde strands still attached to it. She had apparently managed to work it through one of the holes in the lid and by the time he glanced back at her she was once again on her side, facing away from him.
Hook uttered an oath and slammed the dishes down upon the desk with such force that the shell was jarred loose from its stand and a few of the apple pieces tumbled off of the plate. He pivoted on his heel and took a few angry strides back toward the tank before checking himself.
Bending down, he picked up the pearl and stuffed it angrily into the pocket of his britches, barely fighting back the urge to open up the lid and force the jewel down her ungrateful throat. Instead, he stomped back to the desk and poured himself another measure of wine.
So, she was determined to be mope and sulk, haughtily throwing back his gift and refusing his kind offer to join him for supper this evening? Very well. Then perhaps he would just withhold food from her for a day or two or three and see how willful she would be once her belly was empty and growling with hunger.
He threw himself into his chair and drained the glass in one large gulp.
And he just might let her whole tail rot off before he offered her any medicine again, he vowed to himself.
For her part, Fee was barely able to keep from trembling as she heard Hook's angry movements behind her. But she had discovered that, thanks to the fortuitous arrangement of the furniture within his cabin, if she tilted her head to a certain angle, she could actually see his image reflected in the polished glass in front of her. Though she was effectively trapped within the walls of her cage, she at least could reassure herself that at the moment he was safely seated at the desk and that she was in no immediate danger. She watched carefully as he poured himself another glass of wine and then picked up a knife and fork and began to savagely attack the food upon his plate. There was a loud clattering of metal against china, and she watched as he angrily stabbed some pieces of the meat and brought it to his lips. After a few minutes of this frenzied feeding, however, she heard him utter another oath and there was another ear-splitting clang as he threw the silverware to the side. Picking up the entire loaf of bread in his hand, he raised it to his mouth and hungrily gnawed at the heel. But this did not seem to satisfy him either, for he soon tossed it aside as well and got to his feet. Stalking over to one of the shelves along the wall, he grabbed a large le ale and proceeded to open it with his teeth, spitting the cork out upon the floor before heading back to his seat. Raising his feet to the desk, he angrily shoved the dishes away with his boots before throwing back his head to begin gulping down the liquid.
He remained in his chair for a long time, continuing to glower at the tank with narrowed eyes and then turning back to take more swallows from the bottle. Finally the silence was broken by the faint sound of laughter from somewhere in the ship and then Fee heard one of the pirates begin to play a song upon a wheezy accordion.
Apparently, the Captain was not in the mood for a musical interlude this evening, for he rose immediately (if a bit unsteadily) to his feet and, setting the bottle down with a loud thud, picked up the pistol and charged toward the cabin door. Throwing it open, he immediately discharged a shot, the sudden bang causing Fee to flinch within her tank.
She threw a cautious glance over her shoulder, and saw that he was swaying slightly as he stood in the doorway.
"Shut up!" he roared, "And I don't want to hear another sound from you worthless, scurvy bastards!"
"Yes, sir, captain, I'll keep them quiet," came Smee's reply, his voice low and soothing.
"See that you do," sniffed Hook. Shoving the door closed, he proceeded to set the deadbolt in place and then transferred the gun to his hook so that he could search in his trousers for the key. He managed to find it but other objects, including the pearl, spilled out of his pockets as he drew it out.
Fee found herself staring at him as he fumbled to place the key within the lock, not quite understanding the change in his demeanor or the cause of his unsteadiness and slurred speech. The only beverages the mermaids drank were fruit juicr thr the occasional mouthful of fresh water from one of the Neverland waterfalls, so she was completely ignorant of what alcohol was, or what effect it had upon the body.
Hook finally managed to lock the door and then transferred the gun back to his hook as he bent down to pick up the rest of the scattered items. After several useless swipes of his hand, he muttered another curse and lowered himself onto his knees. Still, with his dulled reflexes, it took a long time before he was able to gather up the objects and stuff them back into his pocket.
Fee turned away as he hoisted himself to his feet and leaned back against the door, glaring balefully around the room. His gaze fell upon the bottle that he had left upon the desk.
In the black, foul mood that he had fallen into tonight, neither wine or brandy had seemed appropriate. Instead, he had sought out a large bottle of another spirit. Putting the gun down, he reached out and grabbed the bottle by the neck and brought it up to his lips, taking another large swallow.
Rum, the proverbial drink of a pirate, he thought, as he held the bottle out at arm's length and tilted it back and forth, watching the liquid slosh against the glass and sparkle in the light of the lamps. And he was a pirate, after all.
"No," he thought to himself, "You are not just a pirate, you are the quintessential pirate."
Placing the bottle back down upon the desk with such force that it was a wonder it didn't shatter, he turned and regarded Fee's still form within the tank.
And the quintessential pirate would not be trying to coax or bribe a stubborn, stupid wench into surrendering her body to him. A pirate took any woman he wanted, using brute force or the steel of his blade to force her into submission if necessary. And by God, that is just what he intended to do.
He took a few steps toward the tank, and then halted as the room seemed to suddenly spin around him. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath and waited for the dizziness to subside.
He had had a little too much to drink, he decided ruefully, opening his eyes and raising his hand to his head to run his fingers through the brown curls. Perhaps it would be better to wait until he sobered up a bit before he ravished her, he decided. Yes, he thought, pivoting unsteadily and lurching back to the other side of the room, particularly as he had no desire to let her know that he wasn't quite sure how he was supposed to accomplish the joining.
For her part, Fee had sensed a dangerous change in his demeanor, and found herself feeling very afraid as she heard Hook extinguish the lamps and darkness fell upon the room. No longer able to see his reflected image, she began to tremble as her ears strained to listen for any sign that he was approaching her. She heard some vague, rustling and clicking sounds and then jumped in shock as a loud clang resounded through the room as something dropped against the floorboards. Then Hook issued a long, deep sigh and she heard a dull thud as he fell heavily into the bed. For a few moments there was nothing to be heard except for the creaking of the ship and the sound of the fluttering sails wafting in through the open window. And then came a strange sound, low and vague at first but quickly becoming stronger and more even in its rhythm. Although she had never before heard a human snore, she knew instinctively that it meant that he had fallen into a deep sleep.
Assured that he was unaware of her movements, Fee turned onto her stomach and gazed around the room. For a moment, her eyes focused on a pale, ghostly form that appeared to be floating through the air. She blinked in surprise, and then belatedly realized that it was merely his white shirt that was hanging from the end of the bedpost and blowing gently in the breeze. Her gaze shifted to the floor as something gleamed in the moonlight, and she started again as she saw that it was his hook.
This obviously explained the loud clanking sound she had heard. But the steel appendage seemed to be such a part of him that it seemed almost obscene to see it lying there, abandoned. In a way, even the sight of his severed hand would only have been marginally more horrific, she thought. She studied the cuff and leather harness intently, wondering why it had not occurred to her before that the hook did not spring out of the end of his arm, but had to be fastened somehow to his body.
A particularly loud snore drew Fee's attention to Hook's form as he lay sprawled upon the bed. Although the covers were drawn up to his neck, he had kicked aside the blanket from the lower part of his body. His left leg dangled over the side of the bed, and to her surprise she saw that he had removed neither his trousers nor his boots. She studied his face for a moment, his eyes tightly shut and his mouth slightly open as he continued to snore loudly. Satisfied that he was sleeping far too soundly to be bothered by any quiet sounds that she might make, she lifted her hands to the sides of the tank and ran her fingers along the glass.
The tank was rectangular in shape, three feet wide by six foot long, and nearly four feet in depth. It was filled halfway, allowing her to be completely submerged when she lay down but with a generous amount of air when she sat up. The walls seemed to be very thick, the seals between the glass and the wood entirely secure. The heavy cover was secured to the tank by means of a hinge and, rising to a seated position, she raised her hands to the lid and pressed upward with as much strength as she could muster. The lid rose a mere fraction of an inch before meeting the resistance of the padlock, with no hope that she could work her finger or any kind of implement through the small gap. With a resigned shake of her head, she lay back down and considered her options.
Obviously, her bare hands were useless against the thick panes of glass, and Hook was hardly stupid or careless enough to grant her access to any object heavy or sharp enough to batter through the sides. Even if he were-how could she hope to escape? The sound of breaking glass and the rush of water would hardly go unnoticed even if she managed to wiggle through the shards and splinters without causing serious injury to herself. And should she manage to make her way back to the ocean, she was sure that the other mermaids would merely capture and return her to the ship-in return for more of Hook's treasure.
Feeling tears springing to her eyes, she turned onto her side and rested her head against her arm. The beads that were still twined in her hair scratched softly against her skin.
Tiger Lily and the Indians, she thought suddenly. Perhaps they would be willing to protect her?
No, she decided, closing her eyes wearily and shivering as she remembered Hook's threat to use the poison on the mermaids. He obviously had little regard for the Indians, and they had enough of their own problems with the pirates without endangering themselves further on her behalf.
The mermen?
She opened her eyes and gazed out, unseeing, through the glass. She wasn't even sure if she could find her way to them, much less that they would allow her to join their colony. Not unless-
She allowed a small, sad laugh to escape from her lips. Perhaps they would be willing to take her in if she agreed to continually mate with all of them.
Turning on her back again, she crossed her arms over her chest. If that was the only 'kindness' she could expect, why not stay here? At least it seemed that she would only have to prostitute herself with one male instead of many.
In spite of her situation, she found her eyelids drooping heavily. She had slept little the night before, and now she was feeling quite exhausted, her injured tail fin beginning to throb with a dull ache. Hook certainly appeared to have settled down for the night, so she might as well try and get some rest herself. Keeping her arms wrapped aroher,her, she closed her eyes and tried to ignore the strange, cool sensation of the glass against her body. Perhaps, she thought, finding herself yawning, she would ask Smee to bring her some sand tomorrow.
She fell asleep almost immediately, but found herself waking several times during the night. Each time, she would gaze around in confusion for a moment before hearing Hook's snores and remembering where she was. And so she tossed and turned, dreaming confused jumbled images which faded from her consciousness as soon as she opened her eyes. Each time the light in the cabin was slightly different as the moon rose and set, and the pale grey mist of dawn slowly crept in through the open window.
But when she next awoke, the room was filled with the warm glow of the midmorning sun. She stared upward for several seconds, wondering why the something seemed amiss, and then realized that instead of looking at the lid of the tank, she was gazing onto the ceiling of the room. And just as it struck here that she could no longer hear the steady rhythm of Hook's snores coming from the other side of the room, she realized that he was standing to the side, gazing silently down at her.
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Hook and the Mermaid