Chapter 10 – Betrayals of Trust
"Why did you lie?"
“I don’t know. I don’t remember lying.”
"How long did Tinker Bell keep your secret?"
“I don’t know,” she repeated listlessly, staring blankly at the bowl of soup before her. The tingle in her body intensified, but she didn’t notice. The magic around her neck was insidious, beginning its prodding in her dreams, gently breaking into her mind by questioning her softly in a voice she had trusted once.
"What is your first memory?" Oberon asked softly in her mind.
“Playing tag with the birds in Kensington Gardens,” Peter answered and the memory came forth, as real as if she were living it again.
He was in the park, laughing in delight as he caught a fat pigeon. It squawked in annoyance and he tossed it into the air, running from the new ‘It’. The pigeon swooped down onto a hapless sparrow and tagged him.
“I’m coming for you, Peter!” the sparrow chirped, and Peter ran, shouting good-natured insults.
Oberon watched Peter’s memory, noting that the bird had called her Peter and that in the memory she’d been wearing boy’s clothing. "So even then you were lying. Do you remember when you met Tinker Bell?"
“Yes,” Peter answered.
He stepped into the clearing around the old oak tree. This was the place the fairies came to dance when the moon was new. The birds had always told him not to come here at night, but sometimes when the nightmares kept him awake he’d come and watch the fairies play. It was night now, and Peter shivered in the cool air, the magic a palpable presence here. An owl hooted softly and Peter looked up to see Solomon staring down at him.
“I’m here, Old Bird,” Peter said as he began to climb the tree. He settled onto a thick lower branch, turning to see the white owl. “Whatcha want?”
“One of the fairies has asked to meet you,” Solomon said. He pointed with a wingtip and Peter turned to see a small, child-like fairy girl float towards him.
“Hello, Peter,” the girl chimed, “I’m Tinker Bell.”
Peter smiled, delighted to actually be talking to a fairy again after so long. “Nice to meet you, Tinker Bell. Are you from Neverland?”
“You know of Neverland?” Tink asked, surprised.
“I remember playing with fairies a long time ago, and they told me about Neverland. One day I stopped seeing them, and until I came here I thought they were just make-believe. But I still dream about Neverland, and Solomon tells me stories about it.”
Tink looked at Solomon for a long moment, then turned her attention back to Peter. “Would you like to visit Neverland? My King and Queen are looking for a little boy just like you, and if you’re the one, you can come live with us.”
Peter grinned and stood on the branch, so excited he thought he’d burst. “That would be great! Does it get cold in Neverland? I hate the cold. The birds keep me warm but it’s awfully smelly, and they’re going to be flying south soon. How do we get to Neverland? Is it far? Who are the king and queen? Should I take a bath first?”
Tinker Bell laughed and tossed a handful of dust on the boy. “King Oberon and Queen Gloriana will simply love you,” she answered. “Now, as to how we get there, we fly…”
"When did she learn the truth?" the voice pressed, but Peter began to resist, focusing on what Tink had said.
“King Oberon and Queen Gloriana will simply love you,” she whispered and her memory shifted yet again.
The palace was simply unbelievable, and even after being here for weeks, it still took Peter’s breath away. And now it was even more fantastic, decorated as it was by fairy lights and banners for the dual ceremony: the Release of the old Pan and the Fostering of the new. The ceremony itself had been horribly formal and filled with strange ritual, but when Peter had received the Gift from Cory (whom he liked immensely and would miss), it was suddenly as if he was looking at everyone with new eyes. And the ceremony had meant so much more then too, because he began to understand what was happening.
He’d vowed to defend Neverland, to participate in the special ceremonies, to live there until a new Pan was found to replace him, and to be a loyal, devoted godson to the King and Queen. They had vowed to protect and cherish their godson, to entrust him with Neverland’s power, to love him always and to let him go when he grew weary of childish games. While the ceremony itself had been tiresome, the wild party afterwards had been spectacular. Before Peter could become overwhelmed by the music, wine, and writhing bodies of the dancing fey, Oberon and Gloriana took him aside to tell Cory goodbye.
As they watched the young man fly away, guided by his fairy, Oberon had turned to look down at his new godson. He’d had tears in his eyes, missing Cory already, but he’d smiled at Peter and knelt before him, pulling him into his embrace.
“You’ll stay with us for a long, long time, won’t you Peter? I hate letting you silly mortals go. Stay with us and we’ll love you always.”
It was then, for the first time in ages, that Peter had truly felt happy and safe. With them, he was wanted and loved. But after that initial burst of joy, fear returned.
“You promised to love me,” she whispered, “but I was scared. I didn’t know it mattered if I was a boy or girl, not at first. I would have told you then, once I felt safe… but I was scared you’d send me away. I just wanted someone to love me.”
*Peter*, the voice called and she recognized it now as Oberon’s. Fear filled her as the vivid memory came of the last time she’d seen her Godfather. She remembered his anger and her own confusion. Pain overwhelmed her mind as she relieved Oberon’s rough treatment, and she screamed.
*Peter, calm down! It’s just a memory…* but the magic spun out of control, Peter’s terror and her magic taking command. She continued to scream, lost in the throes of the memory and deaf to Oberon’s attempts to soothe her. *Glory, end it! I can’t bring her out of the spell!*
Then the voice was abruptly gone, and the throbbing of the magic through her body went with it. The memory faded just as quickly, leaving Peter gasping as she frantically tried to reorient herself. There were hands holding her arms, gently but firmly, and concerned brown eyes stared at her intently.
“Peter, calm down,” the voice, a different voice, said to her.
“Mr. Mullins?” she sobbed when she recognized the man kneeling before her.
“What in the name of Davey Jones is going on down here?” Hook bellowed, striding into the small room.
Mullins looked up at Hook. “I came in ta check on her, she’s been too quiet. She was talkin’ to herself and starin’ off. Then she started screamin’. Soon as I touched ‘er, I felt somethin’ odd. Weird hummin feelin’ in my bones… magic. That collar’s doin’ stuff to ‘er.” The man stood and glared up at his captain. “Me an’ Cookson told you she weren’t actin’ right, not eatin’ and stuff. But you insisted she was just sulkin’. She don’t look like she’s sulkin’ now!”
“Watch your tone with me, Robert, or I’ll remove that insolent tongue from your head,” Hook retorted, his eyes blazing with annoyance and anger.
“All due respect, Cap’n,” Mullins pressed on, his own hackles up, “But if yer gonna put me in charge of a kid, don’t get upset when I take my duty seriously.”
Peter watched disinterestedly as Hook and Mullins began arguing. She was tired of being down here, tired of her Godparents, tired of it all, and she wasn’t going to just sit down here and take any of it anymore. Very quietly, she crept to the door Hook had left open and made her way unnoticed to the deck. The raised voices of the two men in her cabin could still be heard when she stepped into the morning sunlight, but Peter didn’t care. If they were still arguing, then they hadn’t noticed yet that she was gone.
She took a moment to breathe in the fresh air and let the sunlight warm her, but no more than a moment. Smee and Starkey were on deck, but neither man had yet looked up from their tasks to notice her. Peter saw Wendy sitting near the bow, sewing on a blue and white piece of cloth. Keeping an eye on the preoccupied pirates, Peter went to the girl, holding her finger over her lips when she looked up in surprise. She took Wendy’s hand and pulled her to her feet, then led her to the railing where several boxes hid them from sight.
“Morning, Wendy,” Peter said, “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” the girl whispered happily. “Are you feeling well?”
Peter waved her hand dismissively. She was feeling a lot better now that she was outside, the sun and fresh air revitalizing her spirits and banishing the last vestiges of the memories. And I snuck out from under Codfish’s nose! That knowledge filled her with the pride and confidence she’d felt slipping away from herself these past days. “I’m fine, glad to be back outside. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to go home. Feel like a swim?”
Wendy grinned, relieved. She’d only seen Peter late at night and early in the morning lately, and she’d been too tired to talk much. And Peter had become so listless, it had been difficult to hold much conversation with her even then. “I’d love to go home Peter. Captain Hook’s been a perfect gentleman, but he wouldn’t let me visit you. Let’s go and find our boys.”
Peter nodded and together both girls climbed over the railing. Holding hands and each taking a deep breath, they leapt from the ship into the cold water below.
“So in conclusion,” Hook snarled, pressing the tip of his sword to Mullins’s gut, forcing the man to squeeze even further into the corner, “Pan stays here by my own mercy, and I’ll not pander to her sulking or her tantrums, as you are so eager to do. You will continue to tend her and you will not question my methods again! Do I make myself clear?”
“Aye, Cap’n,” Mullins answered, his voice shaky and faint. His cheek below his right eye was swelling and red from Hook’s fist, and if he was lucky it would be the only punishment he’d get for talking back to the captain. If he was very lucky.
Hook’s eyes narrowed as he contemplated what discipline he should give the man, to teach him a lesson he’d not soon forget. His thoughts were interrupted by the wild clanging of the ship’s bell. Smee’s shouts could be heard, but neither man could make out what he was saying. Hook whirled about and saw that his ‘guest’ was absent, doubtless having slipped out of the ajar door.
“Pan!” he growled, knowing that the troublesome brat had to be behind this disturbance. “Female or not, I’ll beat her if she’s caused mischief!” He raced to the deck, Mullins right behind him.
“Women overboard!” Smee was shouting, ringing the bell for all he was worth. Mason, Cookson and Starkey were busily preparing the longboat for launch, anticipating that their captain would want to give chase.
“Belay that, Smee!” Hook yelled. “Where’s Pan?”
“Th’ lasses have jumped ship, Cap’n, an’ are swimmin’ ta th’ shore,” Smee stammered.
Hook looked towards the island and saw the two girls swimming away from the ship. They’d be long gone by the time Hook could get there in the longboat, but that wasn’t going to stop him from pursuing them. He’d chase them down on the land until he had Pan back in his grip, and nothing was going to stop him. “Both of you are going to pay dearly for this betrayal of my trust. Especially you, Wendy Darling.”
As soon as the two girls hit the water, they began swimming as fast as they could towards the shore. They could hear the men on the deck shouting after them, the large splash having alerted the crew that the ‘guests’ were escaping. A few seconds later, the ship’s bell began tolling.
“Hurry, Peter,” Wendy gasped, but she knew that her urging was unnecessary. Peter was the better swimmer, and Wendy knew that once the pirates got to their longboat, she was the one most likely to be captured.
Peter swam, but held back so that she could stay close to Wendy in case the girl needed her help. It wouldn’t do any good to reach the shore if Wendy was recaptured. Peter wouldn’t abandon her to Hook. After a seeming eternity, the girls were close enough to shore to put their feet down and wade the rest of the way. Peter took Wendy’s hand again and glanced back. When she saw that Hook and his men were still far out, she grinned and winked at the other girl.
“We made it!” she giggled, “Let’s go home.” But as they stepped out of the water onto dry land, a strange tingling began beneath the collar around her neck. The tingling quickly spread down through her body, all the way to her fingers and toes. Peter ignored the sensation and continued walking. After two more steps, the tingling abruptly intensified, becoming a painful burning that enveloped her. She stumbled, gasping in shock.
Peter heard Wendy calling, heard the concern in her voice, but she found to her horror that she couldn’t move or speak. The burning flared one more time, and then became a faint tingling again. She felt herself fall, saw the sand approach as she collapsed onto it, heard Wendy’s cry… but her body refused to respond. She felt the sand against her cheek, could taste the briny grit where some had seeped into her mouth, but the only response she could make was to blink. Small hands grabbed her, rolling her onto her back. Wendy was above her, looking down at her in wide-eyed fear.
What’s wrong with me? she thought in fear, trying to speak though not a sound escaped her lips.
*You are forbidden the island, Peter,* Gloriana’s voice spoke to her. *Until you can remember and explain to us why you lied, we cannot trust you there any longer. You still hold the Gift, but you cannot use it.*
“Peter?” Wendy called, seeing the girl’s eyes were open and focused. She glanced towards the water and saw the longboat was a lot closer. Hook was standing in the boat, glaring at her. “Peter, get up! The pirates are closer and Hook looks furious!” When her words failed to provoke a response, Wendy felt her fear blossom into terror. She’s hurt, she must be hurt! I have to get her away! She put her arms around Peter and lifted her up, intent on dragging her friend to safety. But when she began to pull, a shock went through her, knocking her down. Wendy lay still a moment, and then sat up shakily. Peter lay in a heap where she’d dropped her, and Hook was frighteningly close.
“PETER!” Wendy screamed, crawling back to the girl. She put her hand on Peter again, but drew back when a warning shock went through her. Realizing she couldn’t get Peter away in time and unwilling to leave her behind, Wendy sat next to her friend and waited patiently for Hook to catch up with them. Her heart hammered in her chest, but she took a deep breath and tried to fight away the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. “I’m here, Peter,” she told the girl, “I won’t leave you, and I won’t let Hook hurt you.”
When Peter heard Wendy’s warning that Hook was near, her fear increased tenfold. Please, let me go! He’ll kill us!
*He cannot kill you, Peter, the collar protects you as well as restrains you.*
But Wendy… Peter thought, her worry more for the other girl than for herself.
*I need your friend. For your sake we left her with you, but if the Captain seeks to harm her, I will take her. Your Lost Boys are not cooperating, and I need her to make them behave.*
Keep her safe… please don’t hurt her. I didn’t know you hated girls.
*We don’t hate girls, Peter…*
But you don’t want me anymore, just because I’m a girl! You HURT me when you found out!
A featherlike touch crossed her brow, almost like a ghostly hand trying to comfort her. *We didn’t mean to hurt you. Oberon didn’t realize what would happen. We’ve never forcibly taken the gift from a Pan, and a Pan has never surrendered it when they were as young as you.*
At the mention of Oberon, anger filled the paralyzed girl. I’m not so young anymore. He killed me! And you lied to me to trick me into coming back. Why didn’t you let me go on? They were calling me! People that really loved me were calling me and you made me come back! I hate you!
*You’re upset, Peter* Gloriana soothed, *You don’t mean that.* But a tremor belied her tone. The fairy queen felt Peter’s sense of betrayal, her fear and anger at her godparents, and her mounting distrust of them. Those feelings, if left to fester, could very well turn to hate. And if Peter came to hate them and refused in the end to relinquish the gift, they would have to kill her in order to reclaim it. And the girl’s murder would taint the gift and Neverland itself.
Peter heard Hook’s voice and Wendy’s fearful answer. Blind panic consumed her, her fear at being trapped and helpless while her enemy approached overriding her senses. Her instincts screamed at her to flee, and when she couldn’t they demanded she fight. And when even that basic response was denied her, terror broke her mind.
HELP ME! She screamed to her godmother, and images broke forth, overwhelming them both: a man beating her into unconsciousness, a little boy crying for his dead mother, an older boy with red hair smiling as even redder blood poured from his mouth, shock at seeing an arrow protruding from her chest and looking up to see an Indian boy with a bow staring at her in horror. Faster than she could catch, the images flashed, wracking her with images she only knew in her nightmares. She screamed again and in the chaos, Gloriana screamed with her.
As suddenly as they came, the memories faded and she was free. She flailed out with newly animate limbs, disoriented and shaken by the experience. She heard a male voice, was aware of a dark shape above her, and she cowered in fear, pulling her arms up to shield her face while trying to curl into a ball. But instead of hitting her, the man’s hand stroked her hair while he continued to speak to her, his soothing tones and gentle rhythm calming her frazzled mind. Whimpering softly, she let herself relax into the strong embrace and soon fell into an exhausted sleep. Mercifully, she did not dream.
Hook stood silent in the longboat, his glare affixed firmly upon the two girls on the shore. Peter had collapsed and Wendy was frantically trying to pull the girl to her feet. Hook didn’t know what was going on, nor did he care at the moment. All he cared about was recapturing his prey and making them both exceptionally sorry for this little stunt.
“If you men don’t get me there before the brats escape,” he growled lowly, “God himself will weep at the atrocities I will commit upon your persons.” To his momentary satisfaction, the pace increased as the pirates fearfully threw themselves against the oars.
By the time Hook set foot upon the shore, Wendy had stopped trying to get away and now sat quietly on the sand awaiting him. Hook saw Peter lying on her back, her eyes staring vacantly up at the sky, and he was suddenly struck by the memory of her brief death only a few days earlier. He quickened his pace and stood over the two girls. “What’s happened?” he barked.
Wendy looked up at Hook, her eyes red from weeping. “She’s hurt,” she answered, “She won’t move! Please help her, Captain, please don’t let Peter die again!”
“Mason! Take custody of that wench,” Hook snapped as he knelt beside Peter. Wendy wailed and tried to fight off the large pirate, but Hook ignored her and dismissed her from his mind. She wouldn’t escape Mason, so he didn’t concern himself further with her. “Peter?” he called, touching the girl’s throat in search of a pulse. He saw her eyes blink even as he found her heartbeat, and in the next instant he knew something was wrong. Her heart was racing, her respiration frantic. Her eyes began to roll wildly, reminding him of a horse crazed with terror. But she didn’t move and her muscles were as lax as though she were sleeping.
She must be hurt. How? The fall from the ship? Perhaps some sea creature bit her, something poisonous. “Smee!” Hook called, “Help me get her clothes off. I need to see if she’s wounded.”
Mason and the other men stepped back as the captain and the bosun began undressing the girl. Wendy struggled in the carpenter’s arms, trying to get back to Peter to reassure herself that she was alright. “Get still,” Mason growled as he gripped her harder, “its better fer ya if the Cap’n forgets about ya for a bit. He’s mighty upset right now.” Wendy fought for a few moments more, but when Mason’s iron grip became painful she stilled.
Smee had Peter out of her wet shift in a matter of seconds. Hook ignored the tears streaming from the girl’s eyes and quickly made a check of her body, dismissing her older bruises and scars in his search for a bite, a cut, some kind of swelling or other injury that could account for her state. He could feel a strange thrumming whenever he touched her skin, but he ignored it. When he’d examined her twice and Smee concurred that she looked unharmed, Hook draped his cloak over her and lifted her into his arms. Peter’s eyes squeezed shut, her breathing quickening to shallow gasps, but still she lay limp in his arms. When he had his prisoner in hand once more, Hook turned to glare at Wendy.
“What happened to her?” he growled.
“I don’t know,” Wendy replied, trying to look unafraid. “We made it to shore and Peter was fine, but then she just stopped and fell. She looked at me, but she couldn’t speak or move.” Wendy turned her gaze to her friend. “Is she okay?”
“I don’t know,” Hook snapped, stepping closer. Wendy tried to shrink back, but Mason’s bulk kept her from retreating. “I placed much trust in you, Miss Darling, and I am beyond disappointed. I offered to let the two of you remain aboard my ship, unharmed and cared for. In return, you were to work for me, obey my commands, and help me convince Pan to accept the role and responsibilities of being female. I kept up my end; I trusted you enough that you went about my ship unfettered. And yet you betrayed me by jumping ship with Pan.”
“We just wanted to go home,” Wendy replied, staring up at the scowling man. “You keep Peter locked up all alone, and I can’t see her until its late and I’m too tired to visit…”
“No excuses!” Hook yelled, raising his hand as if to strike the girl. Wendy’s eyes widened in fear and she braced for the blow, but the Captain stayed his hand. He shook with fury, but he kept firm control of himself. He took a deep breath and lowered his hand. “You were homesick, and that I can understand. Release her, Mr. Mason.”
Wendy sighed in relief when the large hands let her go, and she straightened her dress while she calmed down. “Please, Captain, we have to help Peter.”
“We?” Hook sneered, turning away from her to face his men. “Back to the ship!” He carried Peter to the longboat, settled onto the bench in the aft and arranged the girl comfortably in his lap. The other pirates clambered aboard and took their places at the oars. Wendy watched uncertainly before taking a few quick steps towards the boat.
“Not you, Miss Darling.” Hook called when he saw her approach. “You wished to go home, so I’m granting that wish. Go home, go to the Indians, go to Hell for all I care. But you’re not welcome aboard my ship, and if you return I will have you tossed overboard as a stowaway.”
Wendy paled. “But…Peter! I have to take care of Peter! Please Captain!”
“Shove off, men,” Hook ordered, ignoring the girl. He watched impassively while, as his men rowed away, Wendy tried to wade out to the boat. He listened calmly as she began to cry, pleading with him to not separate her from Peter. When she fell upon the shore again, sobbing hysterically, he felt himself soften and for a moment he nearly relented. But then the girl in his arms gave a strangled scream and, like a dam breaking, she began thrashing in his arms. All thoughts of Wendy immediately fled his mind as he turned to deal with his prisoner.
Reflexively, Hook tightened his hold, trying to keep Peter from falling into the bottom of the boat. “Pan,” he called, his voice stern with displeasure. He expected her to try to get away, to leap from the boat and swim back to Wendy. But at the sound of his voice, Peter wailed and curled up, as if seeking to hide. Hook frowned at the strange reaction, but he altered his response accordingly. Nothing about Peter Pan in the past few days had been normal. Instead of the harsh scolding and possible punishment he was about to give her, he held her closer and began speaking in soothing tones, running his hand through her hair.
“Calm down, child. You’re safe. I won’t hurt you. Wendy’s safe too, she escaped. Calm down,” he kept his words simple, often repeating himself, and after a few minutes Peter finally relaxed. Her cries became soft moans and whimpers and she clutched at his coat as she lay against him. The captain shifted her so that her head lay against his chest, cradling her close as he continued to murmur softly to her. Not long after that she slipped into sleep.
“Goin’ soft on th’ lass, Cap’n?” Mason grunted as he pulled at the oar. The other men remained silent, but when Hook looked up he saw that they all were staring at him in amazement.
“Of course not, imbecile!” Hook snapped. “I have a much more entertaining way to destroy Pan in mind, and part of my plan requires that this girl come to trust me.”
“Peter Pan, trust James Hook?” Starkey gasped.
Hook nodded and looked down again at the girl’s sleeping face. It was strange to view those hated features from this unfamiliar perspective. One moment she was Pan and he could barely suppress the urge to break her neck. A moment later and she was just a little girl, one that was being mistreated by her foster parents, and he felt an overwhelming desire to comfort and protect her. He knew his two desires would have to compromise, and if Peter would behave for once in her life then he’d be able to be gentler with her.
“I hate Pan, but not for what she did to me. I hate her arrogance, her willful disrespect and cockiness.” He brushed some stray grains of sand from her face and smiled when she gave a soft sigh and pressed her cheek against his hand. “But she’s got the wind knocked from her sails right now. Neverland’s turned against her, her friends are gone, and she has nowhere to go. But I’ll be here for her. I’ll care for her and offer her the compassion no one else will show her. She may never completely trust me – I doubt that after her godfather that she’d ever truly trust anyone – but she’ll trust me enough. And she’ll obey me and be respectful, as a proper young woman should.”
Hook looked up again to see that Starkey was nodding in understating. Mason, as usual, looked confused, while Mullins merely scowled. Smee was just oblivious. “In the meantime, I’m sure she’s going to fight me and mouth off. Don’t let me kill her in a fit of rage, or I’ll do worse to you when I’ve calmed down.”
“Aye, Cap’n,” the men chorused. A few minutes later and they were alongside the ship and Cookson was lowering the docking lines to help the crew put the longboat back into its berth and board the Roger.