Chapter 14

An Awfully Big Adventure

As the first rosy harbingers of morning shone around the cabin, Hook awoke but did not initially open his eyes; instinctively enfolding Wendy closer and leaning forward to breathe in her scent instead. He feared that it was all but a dream, and meant to hold onto it as long as possible before it was dashed by day. The memory of the night before surged through his body delightfully, and his brow furrowed a little as he tried to relive it all. Such bliss. Such unadulterated pleasure. He grinned despite himself, sighing contentedly as the girl nestled into him. Contentment, now there was something he hadn't felt in a long time.

'James.' He heard her murmur as she turned around to stroke his cheek.

'Yes?'

Wendy still had her eyes closed and breathed out her words drowsily as though somewhere between waking and dreaming.

'I love you.'

Hook's eyes closed as though he was trying to hold the words as long as possible. It was, you see, the first time they had ever been addressed to him.

That morning, quite probably the happiest of Jas Hook's life, passed all too quickly, and soon he was back on deck with his lover at his side. The Jolly Roger cut through the thick cloud beneath her as she approached London, leaving all on board to enjoy the endless sky-scape of white and blue and gold.

Wendy had not spoken for a long time, but now she meandered around a subject which had long interested her.

'I suppose Mother and Father will be pleased to see me again.'

'I expect so my beauty, yes.'

Then the real question:

'Have you any family?'

'None surviving, I should think.' said Hook without emotion. 'If what you tell me is true and the dawn of the twentieth century has been and gone, I have been at sea longer than most people live.'

'Do you not mourn them a little?' enquired Wendy, somewhat surprised at his indifference.

'Not especially, dearest. I had no brothers or sisters, and hold precious little memory of my father.'

'What about your mother?'

'My mother… yes, I remember her.' His gaze drifted into the distance.

'What was she like?'

'She was always so tired.' he frowned, 'That is what I remember most- a beautiful, weary lady who raised her child as the burden he undoubtedly was.'

'Why a burden?'

'Ever the barrage of questions!' he exclaimed, 'Brimstone and gall, thou art an inquisitive wench. I don't believe I was ever very dear in my mother's eyes; the produce and reminder of what must have been a most unhappy marriage. My father lived nearly all his life with his mistress, and Mother, broken by depression and desertion, I fear, was left with me.' He gave a short, suppressed laugh. 'Of course, I was utterly devoted to her. It was when at school that things changed; she never once visited me, and I spent every vacation with my aunt Emily. I remember the ritual misery and humiliation at the beginning of the holidays, being left behind as the other boys enjoyed the company and indulgences of their parents. So I let my mother fade away and clung to the College instead, just as its traditions still cling to me like garments. Floreat Etona!' (he proclaimed the words flamboyantly) 'It was the best parent I knew, and I shall be forever grateful.'

'Did you and your mother ever reconcile?'

'No. I never spoke to her after I took to sea, for she disowned me. Not without due cause, I hasten to add. She will, naturally, always have a hold on my heart that surpasseth reason, and I understand as I did not before why she behaved as she did when I was a child. But I am a touch embittered also. The legacy of my parents is a son who must claim a school cricket match as the proudest moment of his whole life.'

Wendy would not let this go unchallenged; 'Do you mean to say that you hold your parents responsible for the course of your life? That seems monstrously unfair, James. You made your own decisions, surely?'

'As have you, Wendy.' he replied sharply 'But you still blame your parents for your tedious, confined little existence, do you not?' Wendy stared at the floor as he continued. 'Of course I made my own decisions; and I do not pretend to acquit myself on a plea of parental neglect; but memories and childhood run deep and influence the rest of our lives implacably- at least, they certainly have done with me. That is all I meant.'

Wendy leaned over in a reconciliatory manner, holding his hand and resting her cheek on his arm.

'Sorry.' muttered Hook after a moment. 'Heaven knows I am no position to insult thy way of life.'

'No no, you're right. It is a "tedious, confined little existence" mused Wendy. 'I think I should have suffocated had it not been for Neverland; I dread coming back home in many ways.'

'Why is that? I was under the impression that you wished beyond anything to return to the bosom of your family.'

'I do.' She flushed and fidgeted with her sleeve, refusing to look her lover in the eye. 'Well, it's difficult. I mean, in some respects, of course it's perfectly wonderful, but… You know, I am awfully bored most of the time, really, and being with you has been a breath of fresh air. You are able to excite me as nobody else of my acquaintance does; you do not patronise me or disregard my character in favour of my social graces. I fear to think of the next few weeks, uncertain as they are…' she lapsed into silence, gazing rather fixedly at the balustrade.

'What do you mean?' enquired the pirate

Wendy was clearly loath to speak, but found the requisite courage.

'Will you leave me after I get home?'

She did not look at Hook, her eyes reflecting only the glory of the afternoon sky. Then she added- 'I don't want you to.' Her pain must have been hidden well, for Hook looked for a moment as though he was going to grin. He put his arm around her waist and kissed her on the cheek.

'Wendy, if thou would have me stay,' he said firmly, 'I would do so forever.'

Wendy looked at him with hesitation.

'Really?'

'Yes, by carbonate of soda, yes of course!' he laughed exasperatedly. 'Split my infinitives woman, surely it is plain enough that I adore you? These past weeks have been agony; do not torment me further with your mock-doubt when my sincerest wish is for you- ' he stopped himself.

'Is for me to what?'

'Marry me.'

A prolonged, pregnant silence.

'Well?' asked Hook eventually, in higher tones than could normally be attributed to him. 'What say you?'

'What say I to a man who has kidnapped me, seduced me and nearly sent my childhood sweetheart to a grisly death?' queried Wendy with suppressed amusement, before breaking into a smile which alit her countenance. 'I say yes. A hundred times yes, dear James.'

The arrival was made with as little ceremony as possible. Hook said goodbye to his crew with, for the most part, unalloyed disdain, leaving Starkey in charge of the Jolly Roger. Smee was accorded different treatment as befitted his status as the captain's only real friend. Wendy threw her arms around him and said quite sincerely that she would miss him and that he must come to the wedding, and Hook patted him on the back and called him 'old boy'. The tender-hearted bosun became tearful and said he would write the Captain every month with news of their buccaneering, until Hook reminded him rather callously that he was illiterate. But he was touched nonetheless.

Needless to state, Mr and Mrs Darling were overjoyed to see Wendy back. They had been beside themselves with worry and Hook's ransom note had stuck terror into their hearts- I do not think that Mr Darling ever believed he would see his daughter again. Their reaction to Hook was, of course, very different. As he emerged onto the doorstep with a low bow, Mrs Darling went very white and Mr. Darling very red; his lips clenched tightly together as though trying to suppress an explosion of rage. It overcame him.

'Blackguard! Fiend! Kidnap my daughter, would you? I shall see you hang. I shall have you deported. I shall challenge you to a duel!'

'I wouldn't, if I were you.' said Hook, coolly surveying the man. 'Now, please, dear sir, do allow me to apologise to you and your good wife. I am dreadfully sorry for any distress I may have caused you, and have come to return your daughter, as promised. I also wish to ask you for her hand in marriage.'

Whatever they were expecting it was not that.

'Wendy!' Mrs Darling shrieked. 'Surely you are not in love with this fellow?'

'Mother, Father, please don't fret,' cried Wendy, 'It is not as strange as it seems. James is really a very sweet man.'

They took a deal of convincing on this point. Even after acquiescing to their daughter's request and acknowledging that Hook was for the most part a changed person (as well as very wealthy and of impeccable breeding) they were still extremely uncomfortable that Wendy should choose him as a husband. As Mr Darling put it wretchedly to his wife;

'What are we to do, Mary? Our daughter's fiancée is not only a criminal, not only an amputee, not only old enough to be her father, but, to cap it all, a Catholic! What will the neighbours say?'

They were married, however, and without much of a fuss. Most weddings are by and large indistinguishable from one another, so we shall skip the predictable details and say only that the occasion was most joyous for everybody- except one. This unseen and uninvited guest was less than pleased about the whole affair, although he soon forgot thereafter. Peter alighted on the church spire that he may watch the hideous proceedings from a safe distance; his defiance tempered by another surge of loss as he saw his mother, his Wendy on the arm of his most hated opponent.

'But then,' he reasoned 'What need have I of weddings? I want always to be a little boy and to have fun.'

So perhaps he thought, but it was only his greatest pretend.

Uncharitable as it may be to suggest such a thing, I would think it plausible that on leaving the church with his bride James Hook may have caught a fleeting glimpse of the boy as he flew away, and smiled to himself inwardly that his revenge should ultimately have been inadvertent. But he was altogether too happy to dwell on such things, and thought instead of his new wife, whose hidden kiss was at that moment plainly, mockingly visible.

It only remains, I suppose, to give something of an epilogue to our story. Marriage exceeded Wendy's expectations considerably; misunderstandings and upsets were, of course, not entirely lacking, but they were few and far between. It was in 1914 that the blissful life they had known began to change, for, amid political upheavals and nationalist power struggles, Europe was plunged into the most dreadful war the world had ever seen. The subject soon became an anathema to Wendy's husband, such was his humiliation- Hook, as may be expected, wished to fight honourably, I think he believed it would help make amends for the days when he would swear 'Down with the King.' As an amputee, however, he was barred from active service, which cut him deep and knocked his pride considerably. Wendy tried very hard to do her patriotic duty in feeling as ashamed as Hook did, but secretly she raised her eyes heavenwards in thanks that her husband was safe.

It was during the war that Wendy gave birth to a baby girl, whom she and her husband named Jane. She was in all respects her mother's daughter, apart from her eyes, which were tinged with the forget-me-not melancholy of her father, and he simply doted on her. Hard it was for Hook, then, when there came the fateful night of Peter's return to the nursery (Wendy having adopted her parents' house).

The boy flew into the room with a crow, not, at first, seeing Wendy, who was darning by the dim firelight. Ever full only of happy thoughts, he had no memory of their last meeting in Neverland, and wept anew on seeing Wendy grown up and with a child. It was hard for Wendy to know she was such a disappointment to he who had marked her childhood so indelibly with his image, indeed, she almost felt guilty for having been selfish enough to grow up, seeing his distress. Peter had beheld the sleeping Jane with noisy sobs, which awoke the girl from her slumber.

'Boy, why are you crying?' asked Jane, as if pretending to be Wendy all those years ago. Peter rose and bowed to her, and she bowed to him from the bed.
'Hello,'he said.
'Hello,' said Jane.
'My name is Peter Pan,' he told her.
'Yes, I know.'

How forlorn Wendy felt in allowing Jane to fly away with Peter, when her maternal instinct cried out 'Keep her here!' and the child in her cried 'Take me instead!' But let them go she did, watching their ever diminishing figures fly into the horizon. They had not given her a second thought, of course, for children never do.

She returned, a little melancholy, to her husband, and told him of what had passed, looking guiltily at the floor as she did so for fear of meeting his eye. As may be expected, Hook was dismayed and angered at Wendy's decision, thinking with possessive rage of his cherished daughter falling into the clutches of 'That Boy'. He plunged his hook into a cushion and ripped it to shreds when she brought him the news, but otherwise maintained admirable self-control.

'To think of him- Him gallivanting about the place with my own flesh and blood!' he growled. 'Oh, I'll tear him one of these days. Why did you not stop the brat, Wendy?'

'Oh James', she said apologetically, 'I am sorry- but I could never hold my children back from a place as wonderful as Neverland, it would not be fair.'

'Fair?' Hook repeated blankly 'What of the dangers?'

Wendy was trying to be contrite, but she raised an eyebrow at this.

'Is that question not a little ironic, dear? Surely the biggest danger in Neverland was always you.'

This remark was met with a highly grudging mumble of acknowledgement.

'Still,' said Wendy's husband, 'I do not feel comfortable letting Jane go off to such a place, with such a boy. I wish you had come to me first.'

'I think, under the circumstances, it was better that I did not.'

Hook allowed himself a smile.

'Besides,' continued Wendy, coming to sit beside him and playing with a tendril of his hair 'If I had never flown away on that first adventure- without my own parent's permission- I should never have known you, and both our lives would be the worse for that.' She was trying rather too obviously to placate him, but the attempt was endearing enough for Hook to relent.

'True. 'Twas on that accursed shore that first we met.' He softened as his thoughts drifted across his tumultuous past and happy present. 'I suppose Jane must be allowed to have her share of adventures too.'

'We have had ours, after all.'

'We have indeed.'

'And we shall continue to have them our lives long.' said Wendy, kissing him lightly on the mouth.

Hook held her close, and there was a smile on his face as he murmured

'Aye, my beauty, 'tis as you always say. To live would be an awfully big adventure.'

THE END

A.N- I thought I'd take this opportunity to answer the questions that have been asked as I posted the story. This will mean an obnoxiously long author's note, so apologies in advance.

There were a lot of questions on the narrative voice within the fic. Although I did not and could not attempt to copy Barrie's superlative style, I did want to capture some of the conversational tone he adopts in the novel and as the narrator in the play, hence why the narrative is peppered with first person interjections and opinions.

The story was based on the novel Peter and Wendy, the play Peter Pan, and the short story Captain Hook at Eton, all by J.M Barrie. I adore Barrie's Captain Hook and think he deserves a happier ending than being eaten by a crocodile!

The timeframe of the story is based around the idea that Wendy was 12 and met Peter Pan in 1904, when the play was first performed (as opposed to 1911 when the novel was first published).

I hope you enjoyed reading this; thank you so much to all of you who reviewed the story, it made all the difference as this is my first ever fanfiction.