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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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Chapter 9 – Returning memories

The warm sun shined through the still open windows, bathing the two winded lovers on the bed in a golden light. The air was still fresh but promised a warm day. Sometimes the voices of men were heard and the planks creaked. Otherwise it was silent.
Suddenly a loud knock echoed through the great captain’s quarter, followed by the squeaking of an opening door and a cheerful: “Good morning, Captain! Good morning, Miss Wendy! Slept well?”
A low groan sounded from the bed.
Smee grinned and dared to look over to his commander and the young girl. They lay beneath a ruffled blanket that exposed more than it hid. The two embraced each other and even had wrapped their legs around the other ones. A peaceful expression lay on their faces and the old Irishman couldn’t remember the last time when he had seen his captain this relaxed – even in his sleep. Often enough he had to wake Hook because he had nightmares and his face almost winced in sleep, but not now. The captain seemed to have turned younger in the last night. And the reason was clear as a summer day, lying trustingly in the arms of the commander. A quiet chuckle rumbled in the chest of the boatswain, while he shook his head. He had never thought that one day Hook would be caught in this way. And that this happened was out of question. The way they both clung to each other – even in sleep – told more than a thousand words could do. He almost regretted to wake the two lovers, but he had his orders – even if the one, who had given him the order yesterday, wouldn’t be too delighted by the disturbance. He cleared his throat and repeated a little bit louder: “Good morning, Sir! Miss Wendy! Breakfast is ready!”
The groan changed into a growl, followed by something that sounded like: “Shut up, Smee!”
The old Irishman grinned. This was almost ever Hook’s retort. “Sorry, Sir, but I’ve only obeyed your order.”
A clear sigh was heard as well as a mumbled “Not now, Father. It’s really too early!”
Smee blinked in surprise and placed the tablet with the breakfast on the table. “Father?”
Hook lifted his head, met the flabbergasted gaze of his confidant and grinned in a suddenly good mood.
“Don’t wonder too much, Smee. She called me ‘Mother’ as she woke up in the Black Castle.”
The boatswain tried very hard to suppress his laughter, but it was for no use, while he collected the plates and goblets from the dinner and replaced them with clean ones – but instead of the goblets he put cups on the table. Even Hook didn’t like wine in the morning and preferred a good cup of English tea.
James looked down on the girl at his side. It was an indescribable feeling to wake up not alone; to have someone beside him instead of lying in an empty bed in an empty cabin. And it wasn’t only ‘someone’. It was her – his sweet, compassionate, lovely Wendy Darling and his proud, wild, fiery Red-handed Jill. Now, in the early morning sun, she even was more beautiful and he felt his heart skipping a beat, while a strange emotion pressed it until it hurt. He wanted to take her in his arms to embrace her fiercely and let never go. And in the same time he wanted to cherish and to smother her with tenderness eternally. The mere thought of someone harming her woke the savage urge in him to protect her and the knowledge that maybe she would be away again tomorrow pained too much to think about it.
Alas, what was happening to him? The pirate in him was giving alarm, while the man purred satisfied and at peace with himself and the whole world.
Hook felt a gaze upon him and looked up again. Smee had finished laying the table and grinned sheepishly at him and Wendy. At last James realized that they both were anything but decently covered. Narrowing his eyes he tuck at the blankets to protect his sleeping beauty from the gazes of the world. For a moment he almost groaned. Heavens, now he was thinking in fairy-tales! What a dangerous pirate he was!
Smee giggled. “Sorry, Sir, but she really is breathtaking. I may be old, but in earlier times…”
“I know! Two lasses at every finger – or what have you ever told me?” he mocked.
The old Irishman nodded. “Aye! You remember it?”
“Of course. There was never a week without your stories about a Mary here, a Maureen there!” Suddenly he stopped and even Smee stiffened.
“Do you really remember it, Sir?” The voice of the boatswain was very quiet.
Very slowly James nodded. “Yes. Somehow I suddenly knew it again, but…”
He listened into himself. “Now it’s gone.”
Smee took a deep breath. “Maybe our memories of our former life are returning?”
A shrugging was Hook’s answer. “Maybe. Maybe not. You can never know what this blasted land…”
“James?” came the whisper out of the pillows and blankets. Immediately his attention drove to his young lover and he bent down to kiss her good morning.
Sleepily she returned his kiss, lifted one heavy hand and cupped his cheek. “Slept well?” he asked softly, looking deeply in her hooded eyes.
A tired smile played around her still swollen lips. “The rest of the time you let me sleep: Yes.”
He chuckled, took into her delicate features and discovered proudly the hickeys at her throat. She recognized onto what he was staring, groped after the spots and winced slightly, blushing just a little bit. “That I am looking now like I have fought with a bear is your fault, Mister.”
He laughed. “Ah, my sweet, and that my back feels like after an attack of a panther is your fault!”
She grinned, mumbling something about “Serves your right!” and began to stretch and to loll, yawning lightly; didn’t even recognized that the blankets slid down, exposing the most part of her upper body to his very pleased gaze. “So, what time is it?” she asked, still a little bit groggy.
“I don’t know. I think…”
“It’s eight glasses, Sir”, Smee told him helpfully, using the old time-measurement of the ships. One glass started with the first sentry at 4 o’clock in the morning. The sand of the hourglass ran one half hour and then the glass had to be turned, what meant ‘one glass’ had passed by. After a further half hour it was two glasses and so on, ending with 47 glasses half past three in the next morning. But it wasn’t the odd measure of time, that alarmed Wendy; rather the second male voice in the room. Slowly, almost fearful she turned her head and saw the old boatswain standing at the table, bowing polite to her; his light blues eyes sparkled behind his spectacles.
The – for James already familiar – high-pitched scream escaped her, while she frantically caught the blankets and threw them over her head. Hook could not help himself. He started to laugh, feeling her boxing him in one side. This only made him laugh more. Even Smee dared to chuckle by now.
“Couldn’t you have warned me?” hissed it from beneath the covers.
“Why should I?” he managed to get out.
“Argh! James Hook! Don’t you dare to ever call yourself a gentleman again, you… you pretend-to-be-a-cavalier buccaneer!” Only the blankets muffled her outcry.
“Just have a look!” he chuckled. “From a kitten to a lioness in null seconds. That is a new record, my sweet little wildcat, even for you!”
Smee’s giggling turned into a full laughter. “Now I’m understanding t’e scratches on yer back, Sir!”
Hook threw him an irritated glance, but his mood was too good to be angry with the old man. “Smee?”
“Aye, Sir?”
“Get out!”
“Aye, Sir!” Grinning like crazy Smee wanted to leave the captain’s quarters, as Hook held him back one last time.
“Eh, Mr. Smee? Fetch something decent for Miss Darling to wear.”
“A fitting shirt and breeches, please!” sounded it from beneath the blankets again.
“Breeches?” James asked surprised.
“Yes. How should I climb otherwise above to the Crow-nest?”
Smee’s spectacles started their well-known wanderings down the end of his nose. “Crow-nest?” he repeated flabbergasted, ignoring the look of his commander. “The lass wanted to climb into the Crow-nest????”
Hook rolled his eyes. “Aye! A crazy idea, if you ask me!”
A tousled tuft reappeared and big dove-blue eyes blinked careful over the blanket-edge. “It isn’t crazy. I wanted to climb up to a Crow-nest since I was a little child.”
Hook had sat up and flashed her a wide grin. “This couldn’t be so long ago.”
She boxed him under the covers again, what only amused him more. “See? This was another prove for my statement!”
She lowered the blanket to her throat and looked at him appellatively, battering her eyes. “Pleeeeaaase?”
He made a grimace. “It’s dangerous and…”
She bent towards him, encircling his waist with one arm, the other one still held the covers. “What could happen to me? You are there and…”
“No, Wendy, the risk is too high.”
“The risk isn’t really that high.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No!”
“Yes! Don’t argue with me. I am still the captain.”
“And you promised me the ship will be mine today!”
“But…”
She stretched a little bit and cut him off with a deep kiss. Without his further doing he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, before he lifted his head. “Still the answer is no!” he said firmly.
She pouted so cute that he almost had given in. Sighing he shook his head. “No!”
Smee cleared his throat, before he would go to be a witness of something that was far too private. “Still breeches, Miss Wendy?”
“Yes!”
“No!”
“Yes!
“No!”
“Yes!”
With a sigh the old Irishman left the cabin, closing the door firmly behind him. He would be lucky if he even find something wearable on the ship that would fit the slender girl. Then he started to grin like mad. Did the two actually realizing that they sounded like a long married couple?

It was very quiet in Neverland. Not in the jungle or in the Indian village. The fairies jingled in their normal way and the mermaids sang to the skies, but in the underground hide-out it was scaring silent. Even as the Lost Boys and Wendy and her brothers decided to leave Neverland and Peter had been alone for several hours it hadn’t been like now.
“This could not be!” Nibs murmured and Piper nodded.
“The Jolly Roger must be somewhere.”
“Or she sank”, Tootles whined.
Michael threw him a sharp glance. “Don’t you even think that! Wendy is on board!”
“You are sure? Maybe Hook brought her again in the Black Castle and…”
“No!” Peter cut in, looking up from his throne where he sat. “I have been there. The old ruin is empty. Not one sign of Hook and his pirate. Or Wendy”, he added.
“But somewhere they have to be!” Weasel protested.
“And what is, if Hook had decided to leave Neverland and sailed away?” John brought in.
Curley frowned. “Why should he?”
“Maybe because he has now what he wants!” The face of the elder of the two Darling-brothers was hard. In the moment Jukes and the two other pirates carried them in the net away and John caught one last glance at his sister and the cruel pirate-captain (she argued with him while he seemed to be very amused), it had fell like scales from his eyes. For the first time he had seen more in Wendy as simple his older sister. She wasn’t a real child anymore, as he realized in this very second, but a mere young woman. And she was beautiful. Only too well he remembered how many men in London turned their heads after her. And as much a monster Hook was, but he was also a man. You didn’t have to be a genius to count one and one together to recognize that the buccaneer had other interest in her as only revenge. Alone that he had captured her now the third time and had never harmed her until now was prove enough.
And then John saw before his inner eyes the scene on deck of the Jolly Roger, shortly before Hook made her walk the plank. The way he had held her close and pressed his face at hers, while he threatened her with his hook to learn about the secrets of fly and Peter’s happy thoughts. Even then Hook seemed to be attracted to her, but his hate for Peter and his desire to bring him to fall had been too strong and he had intend to kill her to weaken his enemy. But now everything seemed to be changed. If he would seek only revenge on Wendy for her interferences during the whole mess four years ago (and for almost sealing his doom), then he had had plentiful time to torment and to kill her. But he had done nothing like that. She had seemed to be scared and distracted, but that was all. And if John thought nearer about her behavior – especially during and after their prank four days ago – then he was more alarmed than before. It was clear that she had pitied the pirate-captain, even had helped him. What, if Hook played his old tricks again to win her over and to make her trusting him, so that she would give away the hide-out? Of course, Wendy was clever and absolutely loyal to her friends and brothers, but he knew very well the impressing appearance and aura of the captain and her secret weakness for him.
“John? You are still with us?” one of the Twins asked and John blinked several times. “Excuse me?”
Nibs shook his head. “His sister is captured by one of the most villains of the world and he is daydreaming!”
“Hey! I am thinking about the whole shit!”
“That you have done since Jukes and the others brought us to the cave near the swamp until Peter found us there.”
John shrugged. Maybe he was the only one who saw the connections, while the other ones only were worried about Wendy’s safety.
Peter cleared his throat, trying to stay calm. “As I told before: Hook cannot leave Neverland. He is linked to the island.”
“How so?” Michael asked bewildered.
“I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the magic here. All I know is that sure as hell the Jolly Roger will be back tomorrow. It always ended so.”
Tink give a jingly nod and leaned back on his shoulder. Even if she didn’t like Wendy very much – she was still jealous of the girl – she understand the worries of the boys. She knew how brutal Hook could be, but out of an unknown reason she doubted that the pirate would harm Wendy. Her magic senses had felt his soft spot for Wendy as she had seen the two in the cave near the sea.
“And what is, if he had found a way to leave?” Jump-Jump thought aloud.
Peter shook his head. “Even if he had found a way: He would not leave without fulfilling his revenge on me.” He lowered his head. “He wants me and because of that he has kid-napped her again – to weaken me and to blackmail me as soon as he is back.”
“Then let us search for the old codfish!” Piper called, gripping his cutlass.
Several of the boys nodded grimly.
“No!” The eternal boy sighed. “It would be without any use. He could have sailed in any direction possible. Even if I flying with high-speed the whole day it would be more than a lucky chance to find them before night fells. ”He rubbed his eyes. “The only thing we can do is waiting – and to prepare Hook a welcome he will never forget!”
John balled his fists. “She would be two nights and one day in his clutches then. God alone knows what he will do to her!”
Peter looked up to his friend, took in his pale, furious face and narrowed his eyes. “For every thing he does to her, he will suffer three times. Be sure of it!”
“But that will not make the things undone!” John protested.
The eternal boy jumped up. “What should I do, John? Tell me! Even my hands are bounded sometimes. And if I remember correctly it has been you, who had the responsibility for her. So don’t playing wild man now! I do what I can to save her, but in the moment there is absolutely nothing I could do!” He saw the red face of his friend and the taken aback expressions of the Lost Boys and Michael. He sighed again and lowered his gaze. “I am sorry, John. I didn’t want to scream at you. I am worried about her exactly like you are, but in the moment we can only hope that Hook will take mercy on her.”
John sat down. “It’s all right, Peter. I know that you are scared for her as I am. But… I am feeling so damn helpless.”
“That we are”, Slightly whispered.
Peter bit his lips and sat down again, folding his arm before his chest in a protecting gesture, watching his friends.
John had lowered his gaze, unable to look to his friends and brothers. He knew that Peter was worried – of course – but he wasn’t worried in the same way. Because he didn’t know what a man could feel for a girl and John didn’t mean love with that. Peter was too innocent to think in this direction and shivering the eldest of the Darling-Boys hoped, that Hook didn’t take his revenge on Wendy by sating his surely bodily demands with her.

The elegant bug cut through the deep blue waves; the spin drift foamed along the sides and reunited behind the great galleon in whirling swirls. The mighty sails swelled in the morning wind, drove the heavy ship forward; the black flag streamed, showing the whole word that this vessel belonged to no kingdom and that the crew, which traveled under it, only obeyed to their own rules and these of their commander.
The Jolly Roger was under full canvas now and speed up to her maximal tempo of 16 knots – 4 knots more as Wendy had thought as she saw the ship the first time. But she hadn’t guessed wrong; she simply hadn’t known that some of the riggings, which had been spanned diagonal between the masts, could carry other sails – the for- and aft-sails, as they are called. These sails didn’t only make it possible to drive straight even by winds from the side – without the inner staysail you have to tack before the wind, what costs a lot of time, means very hard work for the crew and is also more difficult to navigate – they were also a further propulsion to let the ship be quicker. Now, with the wind from aft, they only had the function of additional sails.
With violent beating heart Wendy stood on the lower quarterdeck near the big double rudder-wheel in front of the door to Hook’s quarters and looked down at the main-deck. Never she had thought that the men of ship-crew would have so much to do to make the travel of a ship possible. She had believed that the most work was during the start – to set the sails – but now she had to learn that there were many hands necessary to backwinded the sails, to tense the riggings and to have a wary eye on what lay before them. Other men only sitting near the rails, refit the nets or tied ropes; other ones talking to each other, teasing their ship-mates who were working, only to relieve them several minutes later and were now the targets of the rough jokes of their friends, which took a break.
“Is everything right, my beauty?” purred James’ low voice near her ear and she looked up to ‘her’ captain. He wore a white shirt, dark blue breeches and an open lighter blue, simple waistcoat, so you could see the red sash that was winded around his slim waist. He had renounced of all his weapons, except of his golden weapon-sash with the mighty sword – the sign of his captain’s degree. He wore no hat and the wind played with his black hair that wasn’t dressed in its usual manners. Rather it was wild, had only be comb through and curled down in its natural way. His eyes were shining and a real smile lay around his mouth. He looked proud and relaxed at the same time; so fitting in his very own world, vivid by the might of his ship and of his power over it.
Wendy thought that she had never seen him more attractive than in this very moment and her heart seemed to flow over. She felt a happiness deep inside her that was almost scaring and for just a second she had the urge to weep, even if she didn’t know why. Never before she had felt this way and it confused her. Her heart speed up and she wanted to take him in her arms and never let go.
“Sweetie?” he asked, still waiting for her answer.
She blinked and smiled such a tender smile, it took his breath away. “Sorry, James, but you are looking so… so incredible handsome I cannot think straight anymore.”
Her voice was nothing more than a soft whisper, only for him to hear. It was real the sight to see him blush, but he could not help himself. By every other woman it had sounded odd. But not by Wendy. It was so sincere and natural in its honesty that his cheeks turned red like these of a schoolboy. Thanks God no one of his crew recognized it.
“And you are the most beautiful creature I ever have laid eyes on!” he murmured back, took in her appearance, which was strange and familiar in one. She had bound her long hair in the neck to a ponytail; only several shorter locks had escaped the dark red slipknot and blow playful around her delicate face and her slender, long throat. She wore a white, open-collar shirt, its sleeves she had rolled up. The small, brown breeches didn’t hide her soft female curves and one of his light-colored sashes emphasized her slender waist. Her feet and calf's were protected by lighter brown, smooth boots, in which she could even going with bare
feet and gave her an almost audacious appearance. She really looked a little bit like a pirate and as she had come out of Hook’s cabin and the crew saw her, the most had whispered her self given name, under which they had known her at first: Red-handed Jill – what meant Jill, who had been caught by doing forbidden, naughty things. And of course everyone of the ship
thought now with amusement, that the name really fitted because of her relationship with the captain – the mortal enemy of her friends.
Wendy giggled the slightest bit and took a deep breath. “Would you show me the ship?”
An excited grin spread across his features. “It would be a pleasure for me, Milady.”
Her gaze wandered to the main-mast and then up to the Royal-sail, the supreme sail of a ship, where in the case of the Jolly Roger directly beneath it laid the Crow-nest.
Hook had followed her attention and shook slowly his head. “No, Wendy. We already had the discussion.”
You mean, you cut me off by seducing me to another wild trip to the world of passion”, she teased him and he laughed quietly – didn’t even recognize the hidden grin of the man at the rudder-wheel, who had heard her words.
“You are so cute, when you are begging and pouting in one!”
Instantly she changed her expression, looking pleadingly up to him and shoved her full lower lip forward, crinkling lightly her nose.
Hook groaned. “For the last time: NO!”
“I will be careful. I promise!”
“And then you loose your step and fall down without fairy-dust and happy thoughts to catch you. This danger I will not risk!” His voice was firm.
“I have my happy thought.” She went to the tips of her toes and bent to his ear. “It is you!”
Everyone knows how it feels to see the sun breaking through a sky full of heavy, dark clouds. You know that it will come, but when it happens – after a long and obscure time full of thunderstorms, rain and coldness – you don’t believe your own eyes, while your heart and soul take a deep breath and relished in suddenly joy and relief. You think yourself being a fool, because your mind knows that no dark time will last forever and that the sun will ever reappearance, but you cannot help yourself. You are simply happy and feeling a part of your life returning, of which you are realizing you have missed it, because of its return.
The same feeling rushed through James now, only hundred times stronger. That he was the happy thought of someone – and nevertheless of this sweet, still innocent, fiery and strong girl – was almost more he could bear. He felt tears dwelling up in his eyes and a sudden chain clutched his not so black heart together, hindered his ability to breath. He took her in his arms, pressed her close to him and buried his face at her throat. He didn’t care what his men would see and think. Only his little Wendy counted in this very moment.
Wendy smiled and wrapped softly her arms around him. At first she had only said it to prove that she had her happy thought and that he didn’t have to worry about it, but the moment the words were out of her mouth she knew that she had revealed something that would change almost everything between them. Until now he had been still a kind of opponent, to whom she felt a crazy kind of attraction and an insane desire that had drove her into his arms. But now it was more. She had admitted something to herself and to him, what would bind them together with more than only this wild passion.
Suddenly behind them someone cleared his throat and with a silent growl James lifted his head.
“Yes?”
“Sorry, Sir”, he heard Smee’s voice. “But there is something in the forecastle deck you should see.”
Alarmed Hook turned around. “What is it?”
“One spot in the outer wall is leaky. Mullins is already there, but he ask’ for your present, Sir.”
Wendy looked up to James. There was a leak in the outer wall? That didn’t sound good.
“Is it above the water-surface?” Hook asked wary.
“Only two or three hand-widths. This is the reason, why he hadn’t recognized it earlier. The stronger waves of the ship during our speed had showed it.” The old boatswain sounded calm, but firm.
Hook nodded slowly. “I am coming.”
Smee smiled, flashing Wendy a look that said ‘Sorry!’ and turned to leave.
“I will be quick back”, the captain murmured.
“Why is Robert Mullins there?” the girl asked curios. She knew the name from earlier times, but didn’t know his job in the crew of the Jolly Roger.
“He is the ship’s carpenter. What you are seeing there abnormally in the sails and riggings had been his ideas to make the Jolly Roger quicker and more maneuverable. When he asked me to see a simple leak, then there are two possibilities. One: it isn’t a simple leak. Two: he had an idea for an improvement.”
Wendy smiled. “Go. I know that the duties of a captain will never rest.”
He looked at her surprised, then he grinned. She really was the right girl for a seaman. And from where – the heck! – did this thought come?
With a polite bow he turned and followed his boatswain, leaving Wendy back at the lower quarterdeck.
After several minutes of waiting Wendy decided to make a little trip over the other decks. She nodded to the man at the rudder-wheel a greeting – she didn’t know his name – and walked the steep stairway down. She felt the gazes of the pirates upon her and where ever she went along the talks stopped, but she pretended to don’t recognize it and stepped to the rail, leaning herself upon her elbows and looked out at the sea. The fresh salty air blow around her nose and she took a deep breath. Yes! This was air – and not this sticky smell in London, resulting from the new modern fabrics and these noisy cars, which seemed to be very well received by the high society and replacing the couches more and more.
Suddenly she felt a present behind her back and turned around. For a moment she was almost startled to see Cecco behind her, then she straightened her small shoulders and flashed him a smile. “Good morning, Mr. Cecco!”
The giant black pirate looked for several seconds mutely at her, than he answered: “Good mornin’, Miss. Ye need a hand?”
“No, thank you. I only enjoy the air and the endless view of the sea.”
A black brow was lifted, then Cecco nodded; surprise lay in his coal-black eyes. “Aye! T’is is always’ good!” He nodded to her and went away.
Wendy looked after him, recognized that several crew-members looked at her and greeted them as well with a friendly nod, before she drove her attention back to the sea. She knew that it normally would be a great risk to show a crew full of buccaneers the back – especially when you are a young woman and the first female on a pirate-vessel for an eternity – but no one would dare to importune her. After all she was the captain’s lady now. And even if the crew was lightly eerie, she didn’t want to show any fear. Weakness repelled pirates, strength earned their respect. This was something she had learned from the books she read about buccaneers (which she had well hidden in her room in London, even not discoverable for the wary eyes of her Aunt Millicent, who had given herself the proposition to turn her in a real lady).
She heard the men murmured quietly but ignored them. Over her a rigging hit against the mast and she looked up. The mainmast upraised out of the higher situated middle-deck into the clear blue skies; the four mighty sails almost covered it. But nevertheless she could see the lookout directly under the top of the mast and the black flag. From this perspective the Crow-nest seemed to be little – very little – and made clear how high in the air it really was. From there must be a breathtaking view, like this of a bird and this completely without fairy-dust.
Her look wandered to the men in her nearness, but Cecco, Jukes and four other crew-members she didn’t know, were talking about a net a fifth man tried to repair. She bit her lips. If James came back before she returned for her planned trip, he would be angry. That was for sure. But a leak directly at the waterline was something that would need time. She didn’t reckon with him in less than a half hour and in this time she was surely back.
Throwing a gaze over her shoulder she saw that the men had still their attention not on her and rushed the other staircase to the middle-deck upstairs. Careful she hasted to the shroud which lead to the first outlook at the connection between the lower and the top-mast and started to climb. It was easier than she had thought and abundant a minute later she reached the first outlook, taking a little break. Even from this half-high platform was the view great and she smiled as she saw the great skull with the two swords beneath it; woven in a gray color into the almost white main-sail directly before her. Typical James: he had something? He used it. In this case the sign of his flag was used as a kind of emblem, even visible from a fare.
For several moments she paused for breath, then she started the second and last hop of her little excursion. She didn’t recognize that a part of the crew had spied her on the main-mast and exchanged glances. Cecco cursed silently as he realized for what the girl was up to.
“T’e captain will be enraged! T’here is no doubt!” he bumbled.
For the last part Wendy needed more time; almost four minutes and as she reached finally the Crow-nest her arms felt heavy, her shoulders pained and her knees were trembling. Catching her breath she pulled herself up onto the platform and lay down. Sweat pearled over her forehead, which she wiped away while she closed her eyes. After her raging breath had returned to normal she lifted her lids and looked up into the deep blue sky above her and the last and highest sail of the ship – the royal-sail. She had made it! She was there, where she wanted to be since she was a little girl of six years: In the Crow-nest.
The ship’s swaying was here more to feel than below on deck – very much more! – and carefully she sat up, reaching for the grab rails and steadied herself while she stood up. Her eyes widened. What she saw was breathtaking. Around her were nothing more as the glistening, somehow small waves of the ocean and the endless horizon. That, what she could see from the deck, was deep below her and the men on deck seemed to be little as toys. The mighty sails were like odd clouds, shielding the most parts of the ship. Over her the flag fluttered in the wind, looking tempting and forbidden in the same time – promised adventure and freedom from all strict rules for a young woman of the Victorian society.
Freedom! Here she really could feel it. She sprawled out her arms, laid her head in the neck and gave a cry of joy from her. She leaned against the top-mast, secure away from the entrance hole in the platform and savored in the stronger onshore wind, which played around her body, the warm beams of the morning-sun and to be far away from anything that could chain her. Her eyes roamed over the blue depths around her, the difference between the sea and the horizon almost blurred in the morning-dust. Her heart beat in an almost dangerous speed and she felt such happiness that she thought she must burst.
A noise beside her woke her attention and she saw down into the entrance-hole, looking straight in the face of a not so amused Captain Hook. He was a little bit out of breath and his gaze promised no good.
Wendy didn’t even hesitate or was worried. She was far too lucky as to think about the now dark mood of the captain. “James!” she called cheerfully, taking one of his arms and helped him up; threw her arms around him as soon as he stood and pressed him to her. “Good that you’re here.”
She heard him growl and looked up to him. “I think, my order had been clear!” he said hard, his face showed his resentment. As he had come out from the lower deck and hadn’t found Wendy neither at the rudder-wheel nor in his quarters, he had started to worry. It had been Cecco who had tell him that ‘T’e lady is up t’ere!’ while he pointed straight up the main-mast. For a moment Hook’s heart had threaten to stand still as he saw far above in the Crow-nest a small figure with a golden-brown long ponytail. Then anger had built up in him and without another word he had shove his weapon-sash with his mighty sword to Smee and fallowed her, swearing under his breath. And now she stood before him, held him in her arms and showed no regret or nervousness; only joy brightened her beautiful features.
“Come, have a look! It’s phantasmagorical!” She said eagerly, took his good hand in hers and pulled him beneath her the exiguous step to the grab rail. She gripped his hook as well and wrapped both arms around her waist, snuggle her back at his chest and lay her head at his shoulder.
“Wendy”, he began firmly, but she stroked his good hand with her fingers and stopped him with a pleading: “Please, James. I know that you are angry with me, but please don’t upbraid with me right now. It’s so beautiful up here!”
He pressed his lips together, feeling the urge to shake some sense into the girl or to lay her over one knee and to trash sanity into her crazy mind, but one look down onto her flushed face and her refulgent eyes was enough to mitigate his anger just a little bit. “When we are back down on the deck we have to talk!” he stated sternly.
She simply nodded and seemed to be not the slightest bit worried. Damn! Where was her fear of him? Didn’t she felt only a little bit scared? Every other one, who knows him only a little bit, would be. But not Wendy – or, in this case, Red-handed Jill.
Suddenly he perceived the connection between her self-given name and in which situation she was. “You know”, he began, “that you really have a sense for names?”
“What do you mean by that?” she asked, relishing in the place she was in – secure in his strong arms and up here in the Crow-nest.
“Red-handed Jill. You realized that you have been caught in doing a forbidden thing, eh!?”
She laughed a clear laughter. “As if this is the only thing I have done the last days, which aren’t exactly proper!” She wriggled for a moment against him – especially in the lower part – and grinned as she heard him gasping for air.
“Heavens, girl! You are really a vixen!” he blurted out, feeling a flash shooting to his body.
“And that comes from a man who took advantage of a weak girl eight times in one night!” she giggled, enjoying his nearness beyond anything else.
“I thought you were ‘never weak’?” he teased, feeling a good part of his anger disappearing. And again damn it! How did she do this ever and ever again? Why couldn’t he stay angry with her for more than several minutes?
“After what you have done to me last nigh I have to correct my statement”, she pouted. “I even couldn’t sit comfortable during breakfast.”
He chuckled. “You have three guesses, who is in the same position as you!”
“Good!” she nodded insisting.
“Be careful, girl. Don’t dare your captor!”
She only laughed. “My captor: never! But my gentleman-pirate every time!”
That did it. Giving into his already new awaken desire for her, he pulled her around and pressed his lips on hers, kissing her deeply and wild. “Never dare my gentleman-manners too much, little wildcat”, he whispered as he ended the kiss after an eternity. “They all go to hell when you are waking the hunger in me, which only you can sate!”
Out of breath Wendy shrugged her small shoulders, huddled against him. “I think I can live with that!”
Suddenly the Jolly Roger made a harder movement and Wendy let out a scared scream as she almost lost balance, clung to James and held onto him. Adrenalin shoot through her body and made for only a moment her stomach sick, then the tension started to leave her.
“Do you know now why I said ‘it is dangerous’?” he asked silently, holding her petite form safe in his embrace and stroke over her back.
She looked sheepishly up to him and nodded. “But it is worth it. I love it up here – with you!”
He dug his index finger against her nose. “Don’t think that this will mollify me! When we are down again you will hear one or two words from me; be sure of it!”
She smiled. “Of course. After all you wanted to show me the ship!”
He groaned. To hell with this girl and her crazy way of taking the wind out of his sails. But not this time! This time she would learn that his orders have to be taken serious!
“James? Relax. It is so splendorous here!” She turned around, holding his arms still in place and looked out at the sea. “Look, how endless wide the ocean is. I think you will never be able to get away from it, if you once have fallen for the sea.”
Slowly Hook nodded. “I think I know what you’re meaning.”
“And then this view. Around you only sea, sky and sun. You… you are so free here!”
Cheerfulness had returned and she looked around her with big, amazed eyes. “Have you felt so free like now?” she whispered.
James remained silent for a while; then he slowly nodded. “In earlier times, I think. When the duty of a captain didn’t rest on my shoulders and I had no responsibilities for almost sixty men.” He looked out of the sea, starting to really see what his young lover meant. He felt the wind tucking on his hair and his clothes, finding a way through his open collar to his skin. It was fresh and warm at the same time, was almost a soft stroking that touched his body. The ship swayed beneath his feet in the endless rhythm of the sea; so well known and familiar to him as nothing else…****

****… The wood beneath his bare feet was warm and dry from the sun; the hot breeze slide over his bare chest and billowed the simple, partly ripped shirt he wore. His hair was bound in the neck and several of his black curls swirled round him. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, while he relished in the time he had for himself up here in the highest outlook of the sloop. Now and then he heard the shouts of his comrades from below but he didn’t pay attention to them. Above here he was free and could forget what lay in his past or ahead. Here he could…
A low wheeze from directly beneath the Crow-nest got his attention and as he gazed down to the entrance-hole he had to laugh. A reddened face looked up to him, framed with a wild brown full beard with the first silver strands in it and wild brown-silver hair. “Do ye never get enough from t’is silly place, boy?”
James grinned. “No. It’s peaceful here and by the way I prefer a silent place to think.”
The older man shook his head and climbed up completely, murmured a “T’ank ye!” as the younger one helped him up. He fought for breath. “T’is climbing-t’ings aren’t not’in’ fer me anymore. I’m far too old fer it!”
The young man laughed again. “Don’t you think that it didn’t reasoned out of your age, but rather out of your belly?” He looked amused on the prove of the weakness for beer and good food.
The older one grinned back and hit him on one of the shoulders. “Don’t say t’is too loud, or t’e gaffer will cancel me ration and me next shore leave!” Then he cooked his head. “Devil and goblins, boy, when will ye learn to speak like every ot’er pirate and forget t’is courtly chatter?”
James leaned casually back at the topmast. “The day you learn to speak proper English without the cruel shortcuts and this funny mixture of Irish and pirate-accent.”
The older man rolled his light blue eyes. “T’is will never be!”
“See! You cannot change, what you are!” He sighed and looked down at his bare feet. “By the way, to speak a language correctly isn’t something only highborn people have to do. Everyone shows you more respect if you are speaking decently. Here on the ship it isn’t really necessary, but believe me: in every harbor they will think you are more than you are be and this could has his advantages.”
The older man frowned. “How could it be an advantage if you’re speakin’ like a God damn lubber or navy-captain?”
James chuckled. “For example when last named person is after you to catch a further pirate. Without this horrible slang you could pass through as a normal sailor, coming from Ireland. But with this kind of language you are speaking, everyone will know that you are pirate, what could be sometimes more than dangerous.”
The older man sat down, looking thoughtfully up to his blood-young shipmate, who he had taken under his wings. “I’ve never t’ought about t’is!” He bit his lips. “Would ye teach me – wit’out t’e ot’ers to recognize?”
James smiled slowly, pleased that he could pay back something to the older man, who had been the only one in the beginning, who had treated him well. Everything he knew about ships by now he had learned from him and it had been this crazy Irishman again, who had protected him from the rough jokes of the other pirates until he was strong enough to challenge on of them to duel and defeated him. Since then they had let him alone and because of his courage during his first fights he had earned the first respect.
Nevertheless everything was still new to him and he had to remind himself every time that his former life was gone and that there would never be a return – even if he had never imagined himself as a pirate only six months ago.
A loud shout from below sounded up to them.
“Of cours’, t’e old shark can never let ye alone!” the older man grumbled.
The younger of the two made a face, but the Irishman took a deep breath, making a gesture to the entrance.
“Come, before he’ll be got angry again t’at it has been yer gain and yer crazy mind t’at we won t’e last fight agains’ t’ree ships!”
“What ever you have learned, you will never forget! In this case my knowledge over strategy had done us all good.” was the short reply.
From below was a wild curse to hear and James bent over the grab rail to look down. His captain stood at the food of the mast and waved impatient up to them. His fire red hairs gleamed in the sun, as his hat was blow away. His tirade was even in the Crow-nest to hear. Serves you right!” James grinned and turned his attention to his ‘mentor’. “You are coming?”
The older man stood up and was ready to climb through the entrance, as a sudden wilder movement let the ship rebel. James’ hand darted forward and caught the upper arm of his comrade, just in the moment he lost his balance.
“Are you all right?” he asked worried, looking over the sudden very pale face of his shipmate.
“Aye!” the older man whispered, gazing down the entrance-hole through which he had almost fell, straight down to death. “T’ank ye, mate. T’is I’ll never forget ye!”
“You are welcome”, came the soft reply. In this very moment something linked together – something, that would last very long as even one of them could ever anticipate.
Skilful James climbed through the hole to the shroud, looking up to the older man and gave in into his wanton sense of humor that these last month had almost managed to put at bay.
“What you are waiting for, Bryan? Coming or you are afraid?” It was a joke, which the Irishman took with a growl.
“Afraid? Me? Ye young English green stuff! Me, brave Irish warrior and afraid! Even my first name means ‘strong’. I’ll show ye who’ll be afraid!” He swung down and tried to be quicker than his fosterling, but it was for no use. James was faster, taking a rope and let himself down, laughing as he heard the older man cursing and his captain calling from the main deck to get his arse down this very instant.
“Wait until I am down, boy!” the Irishman grinned, proud of his protégée more than he ever thought possible. “James, do ye know that…****

****…”that you are absolutely cute when you’re lost in daydreams?” The rough voice of his former ‘mentor’ had changed in a softer, lighter voice; sweet and female.
James awoke and blinked in the bright daylight. He was in the Crow-nest again, but it had changed; as well as the ship beneath him. It wasn’t a sloop, but a mighty Spanish galleon. His feet weren’t bare and his shirt wasn’t ripped and made out of cross cotton, but out of fine silk. And before him didn’t stand the Irishman, but a lovely, beautiful young girl, snuggled in his arms and looking up to him with shiny eyes. A heavier weight was on his right arm that tickled and prickled in an odd way.
And then everything rushed back to him; his arrival in Neverland; the fight with this flying boy named Peter Pan; the lost of his right hand; his everlasting hunger for revenge; the bitterness and restlessness; his first sight of the little brave and so pretty girl, dancing with Pan in the air; her interferences and courage by saving her friends and brothers in tricking him and finally her coming back to this cursed island as a merely young woman – beautiful, passionate, courageous and with the most open and warm heart he ever had met. And their last nights full of daring and love-making was also clear in his mind; this giving and taking; learning and trusting. It had awaken a part of him he had thought of to be dead.
He sighed and buried his face at her throat, took in her smooth skin, her scent and her nearness and pressed her harder into his body.
Wendy felt instantly that something was wrong. “James?” she asked softly. “What is it?”
It lasted several moments until he lifted his head and took her shoulders, taking care not to harm her with the sharp blade of his hook, while his eyes seemed to have caught fire, making her nervous. He was shocked and thrilled in the same time.
“Wendy?” he whispered urgently. “I… I think I am remembering of something from my former life – before I came to Neverland.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
He nodded eagerly, before he looked away; his gaze lost in an unknown distance. “I… I remember that I had been up in the Crow-nest on… on Barbeque’s ship and… and Bryan coming up as well…and…” He stopped, his eyes showing sorrow. “I was so young and he… he was there for me.” His attention was fixed on his directly environs. “I’d love it to be in the Crow-nest – far away from the others, who didn’t understand me.” It was not more as a breath, so silent that almost Wendy didn’t hear it. “I was free and could forget… something.” He closed his eyes, his face a mingled mask of pain and hope.
Wendy swallowed and wrapped her arms firmly around him to show him that he was not alone. “Have you ever remembered something about your former life after you have come to Neverland?”
The forget-me-blue depths opened again, while he lowered his head. “If I remembered it correctly, then I had my memories at the beginning. But after several weeks…” He shivered, pulling her closer to him as to seek shelter. “After several weeks I had lost them all. I still know who and what I am, but the rest…” He stopped and tighten hiss embrace. “Now I have seen something from my past. It was only short, but still…”
“And now?” She softly cut in. “Are this particular memory still with you?”
He was silent for a very long moment, listening to himself. “It… it is there, but it…” Panic showed in his eyes; the desperate urge to hold something that drifted away. “It… it will go!”
Compassion and anger woke in the young girl. She had heard about people, who had lost their memories. They were strange to the world and to themselves. She didn’t want to let this happen to James again.
Every moment you are able to remember has been a precious moment; a moment that makes your life valuable. Without these moments you still have existed, but not lived.
So Wendy’s primarily urge was to make sure that Hook could hold this only, very memory, which had come back to him. She knew with the instinct of a warm-hearted human and that of a woman that this man needed his memory to find himself again.
“What do you remember concretely?” she asked with a calmness she didn’t feel.
He moistened his lips and looked down on his body. “I… I wore only an old shirt and breeches and…”
Before he could continue Wendy was down on her knees, pulled down his boots and lifted one of his legs with a strength that surprised him.
“What…?” he began, but the girl had already taken away his first boot and did the same with the second. Then she stood up and unbuttoned his waistcoat, undressed him in no time, throwing it beside the boots.
“What more?” she urged and added because of his bewildered gaze: “What was also different? Maybe your hair?”
Hook only starred at her, managed to say: “It was bound backwards and…”
With one grip she had loosened her topknot, stroke his thick mane back and bound it together with the scarf. “What else?”
He didn’t catch her words correctly. The feeling of the dry, warm wood beneath his feet and the soft wind playing around his almost blank chest woke the memories again.
Wendy looked at him, imagined him as a younger man; maybe he was not a captain then but an ordinary pirate with ordinary clothes, which… She opened the bounds of his shirt until his chest was bare to the waistband. Then, after only one second of hesitation, she undid his harness and let her hands slid into his shirt, ripping the merciless leather-ribbon open and let the heavy wooden handcuff with the hook slowly sinking to the floor of the platform. Now he really was free.
Ever so gentle she pushed him forward to the grab rail, standing behind him without touching him. “Look to the horizon and the sea!” she whispered, repressed her desire to take him into her arms. “Look and feel only the mighty present of your natural surroundings and close your eyes!”
No one would ever be able to tell Hook why he obeyed in this very moment, but he simply did it. He felt the wind rushing into his shirt and breathing around his bare skin; the fresh smell of the sea tingled in his nose – everlasting and never forgettable – and he rubbed his bare feet over the harsh, warm surface of the wood beneath him. How long had it been since he had been with bare feet outside of his quarters? How long had it been since he felt the wind touching his very skin? How long had it been since he felt so free and young again? He didn’t know it; but in the edge of his mind was still the new memory of his former life.
He saw again Bryan as a younger man – the very same man who stood below and worried about him as ever; he saw the never-ending play of the ocean’s waves – once and now; and he heard the familiar noises of tensed sails and beating riggings – something that was similar by every ship; and he felt the power of the liberty.
“I still have it!” he whispered, remember again perfectly well the short situation so many years ago. He turned around to Wendy, pulling the girl in a firmly embrace and closed his eyes. “I still have this memory! And it remains!”

Deep below on the main-deck Billy Jukes and Albino sat together and spoke about females and their fatal influence of the poor men.
“Do ye remember t’e lass in t’e bar of Cuba?”
“Which one? T’s with t’e red hair or wit’ t’e black hair?”
“T’is with t’e blond hair, mate!” Jukes grinned.
“By Davies Jone’s Locker, t’at was a fiery one. I t’ought she’d pulled me straigh’ to heaven.”
Albino grinned. “You’re not used to a temper one!” Then he shook his head. “But: Aye! She really was a fiery one and…”
“Who?” Cecco interrupted, coming to his comrades. “T’e blond one in Cuba?”
Jukes started to laugh. “See? Even Cecco remember’ t’is hellcat!”
“Who not?” the giant black pirate chuckled. “I’d never met a more fine wench t’an she was and…” He stopped in the middle of his sentence. “Mates? Do ye sense somet’ing?”
Albino and Billy Jukes frowned, than the pale pirate with the black spectacles before his sensitive water-blue eyes and his almost white skin started to tremble.
“Our memories… I… I didn’t remember much but t’is…”
Smee stepped to them. His old eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I… I remember my Maureen…” he whispered and lowered his head. “I remember her fiery red hair and her green eyes, mystical as the forest in the mist. Her pearl-white face and her cherry lips. She… she told me that she loved me and… and then… the soldiers….” He wasn’t even ashamed as his tears spilled over.
Cecco and his both friends shared a gaze, before they looked up the main-mast, seeing their commander in a suddenly almost ordinary outfit and the beautiful young girl locked into a tight embrace. “Brutes! T’ere is somet’in’ goin’ on!” Jukes murmured and Cecco nodded.
“Aye! Somet’in’ very strange and important!”

TBC…
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In the swirl of passion