Chapter 26 - Dominance

 

      Breakfast was a silent affair, to the relief of both the captain and the girl.  Cookson had prepared toast, eggs and ham (Neverland’s boars were vicious and extremely dangerous to hunt, but their meat was well-worth the effort), and that in addition to the coffee made for a most satisfying repast.  Neither had eaten supper the night before and both were rather hungry.

      Hook glanced up at the silent girl from time to time, feeling vaguely awkward.  She was obviously in pain and he wasn’t quite sure what to do to help her.  He’d had Smee rouse and dress her an hour ago and she’d barely spoken since she’d come stumbling into his cabin, yawning and rubbing her head as she leaned on the old man for support.  Hook had first attributed her bodily aches to a hangover, but now he was fairly certain that wasn’t the case.  Thrice during breakfast she’d clutched at her heart, giving small grunts of pain.  What headache she had she claimed was only a dim ache and not the cause of much discomfort.  He resolved to ask her about it once she’d had a little more time to wake up, and eating should go a long way towards reviving her.

      It wasn’t her physical condition that concerned him the most.  The child had been forced to relive some extremely horrifying memories and Hook was worried about her emotional stability.  He felt that he should say something to her, something to make her feel better and cheer her.  However, Hook had no idea of what he should say.  He had a feeling that ‘Sorry you were gang-raped, but you lived so it’ll be okay,’ or ‘It’s not the end of the world that everyone you ever depended on has betrayed you; you’ve still got me,’ was going to work.  He knew he should be able to think of something tactful to say, he’d always been eloquent and manipulative – skills he needed to employ to help her now.  But try as he might, nothing suitable came to mind.

      He suspected that if he hadn’t witnessed her memories he wouldn’t be having this difficulty.  Every time he looked at her, he kept seeing her lying on the ground as those boys stripped her.  Even in his dreams last night he’d remembered what he’d seen of her life.  The first time he heard her voice this morning he’d heard echoes of her screams.  It made it worse that Pan knew he’d seen her memories, otherwise he could pretend that he hadn’t and hide his awkwardness.  This was worse than accidentally seeing a lady unclothed; he’d seen very powerful and personal parts of Pan’s life, things that, had they happened to him, he’d die before allowing anyone else to see.  Being in her presence now made him flustered and upset, and he could only guess how uncomfortable Pan must feel.

      Peter ate slowly, allowing herself to enjoy a meal that tasted good and didn’t make her nauseous.  Voices echoed in her head, images and sounds that tried to catch her attention.  She didn’t want to think about her memories, not just yet.  Given some time she knew they’d fade into the background like normal memories, to be recalled as needed.  She’d deal with them then, when she could examine them without the fresh emotions that accompanied them.  If she let herself dwell on them now, they’d overwhelm her.

      Her Gift pained her.  She didn’t have the courage to See it, but she could sense it enough to get an idea of what was wrong.  Every single magical connection between her and the island was gone.  Before, they had merely been blocked by her collar, the restraint leaving her with one regulated magical outlet – just enough to sustain her and Neverland and to allow her godparents access to her mind.  Now they all were completely severed, leaving open wounds in her soul.  The Gift itself had been damaged by the magical backlash, adding to her stress of being torn away from the island.  It hurt.

      She was supposed to be the conduit between Neverland and its heart, the Gift.  Theirs was a three-way symbiotic relationship, each giving and taking from one another for survival, their connections so interwoven that they were nearly one entity.  Peter’s imagination, coupled with the raw power of the Gift, fed into Neverland and gave it and its denizens life.  In return, the island sustained her physically by providing her with food, water, and shelter, and kept her happy with its plethora of adventures.  It also transmuted a portion of the raw power into more usable magic and fed it back to her through their connections.  Peter and Neverland had given and taken from each other for survival, and their relationship had been so close that no one knew where one started and the other ended.  For all intents and purposes, Peter was Neverland… until now.

      The Gift itself was a parasitic entity living inside Peter, connected to her both physically and spiritually.  It fed off the transmuted power from Neverland and a portion of Peter’s physical nutrition to feed itself, in turn generating more of the raw power that Neverland needed.  The Gift acted much like a magical heart or lungs, circulating power between Peter and the island, and until now had been just as much a part of her as those organs. It had been a mutually beneficial circle of life, but now it was broken.  Peter wasn’t sure what would happen to her or to Neverland now, but she had a feeling that neither of them would survive if something wasn’t done soon.

      Peter frowned at her plate, realizing there wasn’t anything left on it to eat.  Lifting her lukewarm cup of coffee, she finally looked up at the man across the table.  She met Hook’s gaze for a moment before the captain glanced away, his face flushing as he glared at his own cup of coffee.  Great, he can’t even stand to look at me. 

      “I’m sorry you had to see all that yesterday,” Peter said quietly, feeling ashamed.  “You probably think I’m disgusting and weak.”

      Hook looked at the girl sharply, meeting her gaze again and holding it this time.  “Weak?  Hardly, Miss Pan,” he replied.  “It’s not easy for a grown man to overcome a pack in a fight, and I’d certainly never expect a young girl to accomplish it.  I don’t find you disgusting, either.  Those filthy sons of whores that raped you are the ones I find disgusting.”

      “Raped me?” Peter repeated, shuddering slightly at the thought.  “They didn’t… they tried but I was rescued by… friends in the park.”  She frowned as the memory became move vivid and the others clamored even louder just beyond it.  It took every ounce of concentration to push it away.  “I’ll tell you about it later if you want, I promise.  I just can’t… not right now.”  Hook already knew enough about her so it was rather pointless to keep anything else a secret from him.

      Hook nodded and gave her a sympathetic smile, and as he left the table he felt a large weight lift from him.  It helped in many ways to know she hadn’t been raped.  He felt less awkward knowing he hadn’t witnessed such a trauma.  He did want to know more about her rescue and he resolved to find out if she still retained her virginity – her uncle had gone after her also and Hook needed to know if the man had ever succeeded.  Pan would be harder to marry off if she wasn’t pure.  But such things were better left to worry about later.

      “Nibs returned last night,” Hook told her as he opened the sack the boy had left behind.  “He brought you your things.”

      Peter frowned at the man as she approached him.  “I’ll take them to my room then.”  When Hook reached into the bag, her scowl deepened.  “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t paw through my things, Captain.”

      Hook paused a moment, giving her a wry smile.  “There is no way in perdition I will simply hand over this sack without examining its contents first.  There could be something in here you shouldn’t have, like a weapon.  I wouldn’t be the least surprised if Nibs had stashed a dagger in here.”  He grabbed the first object his hand touched and pulled it out.  For a moment he stared dumbly at the furry, button-eyed, toy rabbit, but then he quirked an eyebrow at Peter and began to chuckle.

      “What?” Peter asked, feeling a twinge of embarrassment.  She knew Hook was laughing at her, but she wasn’t sure why.  Annoyed, she reached for the plush rabbit and snatched it from his grasp, clutching it protectively.

      “Peter Pan… with a stuffed bunny,” Hook laughed, grinning at the girl.  “I never would have imagined the boy sleeping with a bunny.” 

      “The boy?” Peter said stiffly, her embarrassment mounting.  “I am Peter Pan and Carrots is mine.”  She eyed the man angrily, her desire to do him bodily harm mounting.

      “Carrots,” Hook repeated, stifling his amusement.  He refrained from commenting on how ridiculous she looked, hugging a stuffed animal while glaring at him like a petulant child.  But he remembered exactly how much Pan hated being ridiculed, and despite her childish appearance he remembered that she could be dangerous when provoked.  “Well then, let’s see what other toys Master Nibs has brought you.”

      Peter growled and reached for the bag, intent on claiming what was rightfully hers.  As soon as her hand closed upon the sack, however, Hook’s much larger one clamped about her wrist and squeezed.  “Give me my things!” she barked.

      Hook’s eyes narrowed angrily and he pulled the girl closer.  “Let me make this clear, Kitten.  As you just reminded me, you are Peter Pan, my nemesis, and you live by my forbearance alone.  You are my property and everything you posses is mine.  You will have nothing that I haven’t given you, be it the food in you belly or the clothes on your back, and you will be grateful for every scrap I allow you.  This bag of trinkets is mine, and if I decide to I will let you keep them.  Defy me and I’ll toss the lot overboard and let you watch them sink to the bottom of the bay.  Do you understand me, Kitten?”

      Peter returned Hook’s gaze, matching him glare for glare.  She wasn’t going to back down on this, she was tired of being ordered about and demeaned in his eyes.  She was Peter Pan, Hook’s equal, and not some piece of property as he claimed.  She had rights… the throbbing ache from her Gift flared again and she gasped at the pain, her free hand reflexively going to her chest.  For a moment her vision turned to black, the pain driving everything else from her mind.  When it faded she found herself once more staring into Hook’s eyes, but she couldn’t find the energy to match his glare.  She hurt too much to even try. 

      “Fine,” Peter told the man, her voice bitter as she released the bag and shook off his grip.  “It’s yours, keep it.”  She dropped her beloved rabbit and turned on her heel, fleeing Hook’s presence but unable to flee her shame.  Peter Pan never surrendered… But Peter Pan was a lie.  He never existed, it was all pretend.  Fighting her tears, she ignored the questioning stares of the other men and quickly made her way to her cabin, seeking the safety of solitude.

      Hook stared at the retreating girl in shock, startling a little when the door slammed shut behind her.  “You gave up that soon?” he murmured, his gaze dropping to the stuffed animal on the floor.  He picked up the rabbit, absently brushing away some dust as he considered its mistress.  He shouldn’t have pushed her so soon, but by the same token he couldn’t continue to coddle her indefinitely.  Now that she was irrevocably his, it was time for her to begin to learn the reality of her new existence.  He’d expected her to defy him, but he hadn’t expected her resistance to crumble so soon.

      “Something’s wrong,” he mused, and immediately chided himself for being a fool. Of course something was wrong with her.  After yesterday’s events, the poor child was probably still reeling with shock.  Hook returned to the sack and began going through its contents, deciding to inspect Nibs’s offering while Pan calmed down.  He’d take her things to her and speak with her in a little while, when it was less likely she’d be crying.  He hated seeing her cry.

---

      Peter slammed the door to her cabin and briefly considered barring it.  She didn’t doubt that sooner or later Hook would come down here to gloat some more – ‘checking on her’ he’d probably call it – and she had no desire to see him again anytime soon.  But if he found her door locked (as he had before), he’d break it down.  She had even less desire to see him again when he was angry.  Shaking her head, she left it unlatched.  Briefly she surveyed the room, looking for something to occupy her attention while she tried to regain a semblance of self-control.

      She dismissed her bed immediately – she wasn’t sleepy and while throwing herself upon it and weeping was appealing, it was also a useless and weak gesture.  Her gaze fell upon the book that sat on her little table and she rolled her eyes in disgust.  She wasn’t sure what had possessed her to believe she could teach herself to read.  It was a lot more difficult than she’d imagined, but she wasn’t quite prepared to ask someone for help… she’d eat the damned book before she asked Hook to teach her.  However, the prospect of asking Starkey for help didn’t seem so terrible.  The only other thing she could do in here was draw, and she sneered at the charcoal sketches she’d attempted on the parchment Hook had given her.  They were hideous.

      “I hate this room,” she growled as she seated herself at the vanity, absently wiping away a few frustrated tears.  “I hate this ship and I hate Hook!”  It suddenly occurred to her that this room would be hers from now on, possibly for years to come.  This small room, for all she hated it, would be her only bastion of privacy on this ship.  The Jolly Roger would be her home and Hook her guardian – though to her the ship seemed more akin to a prison with its captain as her warden.  For a brief moment she imagined her real home, nostalgic for its familiar comforts.  She thought of her bed and how snug it was when she shared it with the boys.  She thought of her fireplace, of sitting beside it with the others while Wendy told stories.  She thought of Tink’s house – Tink!  Peter closed her eyes in pain, praying that her sacrifice had at least saved her fairy friend’s life.

      The harsh differences between this place and her home became starkly clear to her, deepening her homesickness into a despairing loss.  She needed the warm, earthy security of her home.  She’d been safe there; the home was hidden from most everyone on the island and the entrances were too small and cunning for any adult that may have accidentally found them.  She’d weathered forest fires and hurricanes there.  On a few occasions she and the boys had quietly played below while pirate voices drifted down the entrance tunnel, waiting for Hook and his men to leave the area and confident that their home would remain undiscovered.  This ship was cramped where her home was snug, smelling of salt and pitch where her home was earth and unwashed children.  It was exposed and at the mercy of storms where her home was hidden and safe.

      She stared into the vanity’s mirror, watching the stranger she saw reflected here.  She’d changed so much… she’d lost so much, and that loss was plain to see in the other’s eyes.  “I just want to go home,” she whispered, the tears coming harder now as she gave up trying to fight them.  She crossed her arms upon the vanity and buried her face in them, sobbing.

      “Please, let me go home!  I’ll do anything!  I’m sorry, please…” her words began to ramble as she pleaded for mercy, knowing in her heart she no longer deserved it but wishing all the same. 

      Thus did Gloriana find Peter when she appeared in the tiny room, and her weary heart ached anew for the girl.  She glanced at the small Healer fairy that had accompanied her and gestured for the pixie to back away.  Once the healer was settled on the table, Gloriana floated a chair to Peter’s side and carefully sat down, trying not to startle the distraught girl.

      “Calm down, Peter,” the queen murmured, laying one hand upon the girl’s arm while gently rubbing Peter’s back with the other.  “Somehow we’ll get you home.  Calm down, child, everything will be alright.”  She continued to soothe the girl and by degrees Peter’s sobs began to subside.

      Peter kept her head down and her eyes closed, letting the soft words and caresses calm her.  When she was certain she was once more in control of herself, she raised her head.  Unwilling to face her godmother directly, she stared at the fairy queen’s reflection in the mirror.  It was obvious that the woman was tired and worried, but Peter knew better than think Gloriana was worried about her.  She only wondered why the woman was pretending to care, but she thought she knew the answer to that question.  They needed her to willingly give up her Gift, and as far as she was concerned, they could have the damned thing.

      “I’m sorry, Majesty,” Peter apologized softly.

      Gloriana raised an elegant eyebrow at that, a faint smile curving her lips.  “You have nothing to be sorry for, Peter.  I’m the one who is sorry…”

      “Sorry for fostering me,” Peter interrupted, looking down.  She picked up a hairpin and began nervously fiddling with it.

      “No,” Gloriana corrected.  “You’ve been a wonderful Pan, strong and brave, filled with beautiful dreams.  I’m sorry that I didn’t intervene when we found out you were female, that I didn’t stop Oberon before he hurt you.  I let him handle things because he is my king, and I ignored my own better judgment.  I’m sorry for what he’s done to you in his anger and pride.”

      “Is he okay?” Peter asked, remembering yesterday’s events with painful clarity.  “He protected me… I felt the magic collapsing and I felt him around me, holding it back.  I couldn’t escape the memories to help him.”

      Gloriana nodded her head, a small frown creasing her brow.  “He’s alive, just sleeping deeply.  We don’t know when he’ll awaken or if…” she paused, deciding that burdening this girl with more guilt and worry would be a grave mistake.  Peter had enough worries of her own as it was, without telling her that Oberon was comatose.  “He just needs to rest, Peter.  Until he’s better, I rule in his place.  I am the Law for now.”

      Peter nodded, smiling in guilty relief.  She wasn’t as afraid of her Godmother, and Gloriana was much more understanding than Oberon, even when she was angry.  “Why are you here?  You found out what you wanted to know, so why come back?  You’ve got more important things to take care of, like Oberon and Slightly.”  Peter chuckled, her fists clenching tightly in her lap.  “Slightly…now that you’ve seen how horrible I am, you’ve come to take the Gift, to give to him.”

      “Peter,” Gloriana said softly, but Peter refused to be interrupted.

      “I won’t fight this time, I’ll give it up so it won’t hurt me like last time,” she smiled weakly at the mirror, staring steadfastly at the reflection of the candle on the wall behind her.  She couldn’t meet the Queen’s eyes, and couldn’t bring herself to even look at her own reflection.  “Slightly will make a good Pan and a good godson.  I’ll be happy to pass my Gift on to him.  I don’t deserve it anymore.  I just hope I haven’t tainted it, being what I am and all.  It hurts me anyway, so I can’t wait to give it up.  Just do me a favor, please?  If losing the Gift does kill me again, will you just let me go?  There are people waiting for me, and I’d rather be with them than grow up on this ship.”

      “Peter, look at me,” Gloriana commanded sharply, grasping the girl’s chin and forcing her to turn towards her godmother.  “You’re upset and you’re rambling.  Take a deep breath and calm down.”  She took a breath herself, as much to calm herself as to get the girl to mimic her.  She needed to allay Peter’s fears before the child got herself worked up again – depression, anxiety and grief would only make healing more difficult.  When Peter took several slow breaths, Gloriana began to reassure her as best as she could.

      “First, I am here to see if you are injured and to try to help you if I can.  I’ve brought a Healer to sense you.  Will you let her work while we talk?”  When Peter nodded, Gloriana gestured to the pixie to sit on Peter’s shoulder.  “This is Healer Hyacinth.”

      Peter glanced at the pixie and let her alight upon her shoulder.  The diminutive creature reminded her of her friend.  “Where is Tink?  Is she okay?”

      “She’s alive and as well as can be,” Hyacinth replied, getting comfortable.  Sensing out Peter’s magical injures, if they existed, would require much concentration.  “She is waiting to be rebonded to you, as soon as it is safe to do so.”

      Gloriana nodded, running her fingers lightly through Peter’s hair.  “Which brings me to the other reason I’ve come here.  I cannot rescind Oberon’s promise to Hook, believe me when I say that I would in a heartbeat if it were possible.  But I can end the exile against you.”  She smiled at the child, noting how Peter’s eyes widened ever so slightly, a faint stirring of hope welling within them.  “Yes, you lied to us.  Yes, you coerced Tinkerbell into helping you maintain your deceit.  But I and the Law can find clemency for you, given the terrible experiences you endured prior to coming to Neverland.  You had no reason to trust us when you came here, and we gave you no reason to believe we would continue to protect you if you ever told us the truth.  Every caretaker you had ever had betrayed you, and I can understand how you could believe that we would be no different.  We proved you right, after all.  Oberon and I did betray you.

      “Because of this, I am ending your exile from Neverland.  You may wander the island as freely as you did before, and no place is barred from you.  You may remain for as long as you are Pan.”

      “I can go home?” Peter whispered in shock, afraid to let herself feel the joy that was threatening to bubble up inside her and make her smile.  Too many disappointments in her life kept her from believing her Godmother was telling the whole truth.  There had to be a catch, some price that had to be paid.  “How much longer will I be Pan?  Slightly passed the tests, didn’t he?  He’s to be Pan next.”

      “Slightly failed the tests, and nearly died in the process,” Gloriana replied.  “He is recovered now, and he was returned home last night only a little worse for the wear.  There is no Pan set to take your place, Peter, and I see no reason why you cannot be rebonded to the island as soon as possible.  We will find a new Pan in our own time.”

      “But,” Peter stammered, confusion and hope scattering her thoughts into a million directions.  She had so many questions, and she feared that this was nothing more than a dream.  “But I’m a girl!  You said girls couldn’t be Pan!”

      “Girls aren’t supposed to be Pans, true,” Gloriana replied, nodding.  “But the Law also says that we must have a Pan.  Since we have no one else, we will keep our girl-Pan.  We will search for a new Pan, do not doubt that, but don’t be surprised if it takes us a long while to find someone suitable.  I wouldn’t be surprised if we don’t manage to find one until you’re good and ready to pass on the Gift of your own free will.”

      “I can go home,” Peter repeated, a genuine, happy smile finally playing upon her lips.  “I can go home, I can fly again and play with my friends.  I don’t have to stay here with Hook!”  She stood suddenly, grabbing her godmother’s hand excitedly.  “I want to go now, Godmother.  Sprinkle me with dust so I can fly home!”

      Gloriana stood, biting her lip worriedly.  “I can’t dust you, Peter.  According to fairy Law, you belong to Captain Hook.  No fairy can dust you unless he says that we can, just as we cannot take you away from him.  I need to speak with him about having you rebonded to Neverland – we can’t do it without his permission.”

      “I don’t need his permission,” Peter growled in annoyance.  “I can bond myself, I remember the ceremony.”

      “But you can’t do it here, on this ship,” Gloriana insisted.  “We have to get you ashore, which means we need to be civil to Hook and make him see reason.  If he truly has your best interests at heart, he will allow you to return to Neverland.”

      “I doubt Hook cares about my interests,” Peter muttered, her lips pursed in thought.  Hook considered her to be his property, and it would be a cold day someplace really hot before he would ever willingly let her go free.  But he sometimes seems to care about me, and other times he’s back to his old cruel self.  Maybe he really would let me go, if I asked him the right way.

      A sharp rap on the door interrupted the girl’s musings, and she frowned in mild annoyance.  She just knew it was Hook, only he knocked on her door like he was about to break it down.  Mullins’s saying “speak of the devil and he’ll appear” was extremely apt when applied to Hook.  She glanced quickly at her godmother before calling, “Come in, Captain.” 

      Hook opened the door and stepped into the tiny room, awkwardly cradling the bag to his chest with his right arm.  He really missed his hook – nearly as much as he once missed his hand – and he was going to light a fire under Jukes’s ass to finish the repairs to the hook as soon as he finished speaking to Pan.  “I’ve completed my inspection of these trinkets, Kitten, and…” he stepped past the door and saw the fairy queen standing beside Pan.  His jaws clenched angrily, cutting off his words abruptly.  He narrowed his eyes at the woman in displeasure and slammed the door, tossing Peter’s sack onto the table.

      “What do you think you are doing here?” he snarled, crossing his arms.  He missed his hook even more now.  He knew he didn’t need it to appear menacing (he certainly didn’t need it to kill), but it really was efficient in striking terror into hearts and dissuading arguments. 

      “I came to see my goddaughter, Captain,” Gloriana replied stiffly, vexed by his abruptly rude question.  She was not intimidated by his obvious attempt to loom over her.  “I told you that I would…”

      “I didn’t expect you to show your face here again so soon,” the captain snapped.  “I am tired of you and your idiot of a husband boarding my ship without permission!  Leave.  Now.  And I don’t want to find you sneaking about my ship again, else I’ll have you thrown overboard like any other stowaway.” 

      Peter’s eyes widened in stunned surprise, but Gloriana drew herself up stiffly, livid.  “I am the Fairy Queen, Keeper of the Law!  I will not be commanded by a mere mortal, a filthy pirate no less!  I come and go as I please!”

      “This is my ship and I am the law here!” Hook bellowed.  “You are a pixie queen, not my queen – you aren’t even the queen of this infernal island!”

      “I rule Neverland, Captain,” Peter interjected.  It was true, as keeper of the Gift, Neverland was hers.

      “And I rule you, Pan,” Hook hissed, fixing his glare on the girl.  “What is yours is mine, and that includes Neverland itself.”  He returned his attention to Gloriana, letting his lips curl into a sneer.  “Therefore, I forbid you and your kind to converse with Pan without my permission.  You no longer rule here, majesty, I do.”

      “No one rules Neverland at the moment, so you may as well quit bickering about it,” a tiny voice shouted angrily, catching the other three by surprise.  “The Pan’s ties are broken and Neverland is without Law for now.”  Hook growled when he saw the pixie on Peter’s shoulder and he raised his hand to knock it off, but the girl raised her arms to protect the healer, shaking her head at Hook.  The pixie ignored the threatening gesture, her eyes closed as she continued to sense out Peter’s condition.

      “The wounds are many and deep, Majesty,” Hyacinth informed them.  “The Pan is completely severed and the Gift is grievously damaged.  They are dying, both island and girl.  They must be rebonded.”

      “What is she going on about?” Hook snapped, hiding his uncertainty and concern.  He didn’t like this talk of his charge dying, not when he’d finally been given control of her.

      “When the magic exploded yesterday,” Peter answered quietly, slowly sitting on the foot of her bed, “it hurt me.  It still hurts terribly.  Healer Hyacinth is here to see how bad it is.”

      “Can you do anything to repair the damage?” Gloriana asked worriedly.

      “I can’t repair this, only a rebonding will save them,” the Healer responded.  “Unable to get sustenance from Neverland, the Gift is feeding off of the Pan, draining her of all her magic.  When that is gone it will feed on her spiritual energy until it has bled her dry.  At that point, the Pan will die and the Gift will not survive her long – it needs a human host.  Neverland has enough reserves to carry it for some time without its connection to the Pan, but it will fade when it senses her death.  The island cannot exist in despair, and that is what it will know when all hope of being rebonded has gone.”

      “How long before it kills her?” Hook asked, masking his worry for her.  Showing concern would weaken his stance with her, and he could not afford to show weakness in front of the fairy queen.  He was not giving the pixie any weapon to use against him to win back Pan.  He didn’t know how the magic had managed to mortally wound Pan, nor did he care.  All he wanted to know was what needed to be done to save her, and how long he had to do it.

      The pixie shrugged.  “No way to tell, not for sure.  A week perhaps, more likely two.  Could be as much as a month, but certainly no more than that.  It’ll be apparent when the time draws near, she’ll visibly weaken and be in a lot of pain a day or so before she dies.  In the meantime, the Pan must be rebonded or else the Gift passed on to a new Pan.  Either solution will save all.”

      “That is why you must let me take Peter ashore, Captain Hook,” Gloriana said, a hint of pleading in her voice.  She’d managed to calm herself and hoped that she hadn’t angered the man too much.  They needed his goodwill to save Peter.  “She can only be rebonded while physically in contact with the island.  Once she is rejoined with Neverland…”

      “No,” Hook said simply, cutting the queen off.  He stared at Peter, taking silent stock of her.  She had a measure of her hope back in her eyes, evidenced whenever she gazed at Gloriana, and he didn’t like it.  Her only hopes should be in him, her only happiness and joy in what he could provide for her.  His gaze didn’t flinch when he saw Peter’s start of surprise at his denial, nor did it waver when he saw her hope flicker.  She was going to be hurt by his decision, but she’d get over it eventually.  When they left this island, she’d have her whole life to come around to her Captain’s way of seeing things.

      “No?” Gloriana repeated, sure she’d heard wrong.  “But Captain Hook, don’t you understand?  She’ll die if she isn’t rebonded!”

      Peter frowned up at Hook, thinking she understood why he wouldn’t want her to go.  “It won’t change Oberon’s oath,” she told him, barely masking her bitterness at the reminder of how casually her godfather had made such a terrible promise.  “Even bonded, you’ll still own me according to fairy law.”  She didn’t mention to him that the fairies weren’t the only ones with laws.  Dwarves, trolls, Indians, mermaids… every magical race it seemed had their own laws, and few would recognize Hook’s claim upon her.  Neverland had its own law for that matter, and once rebonded Peter intended to see if it would recognize Hook’s claim.  King Oberon had only exercised control of Neverland by proxy, because he had Fostered the Pans.  He was the guardian of the Gift, not its owner.

      “By fairy law, you’ll be steward of Neverland and could rule through me,” Peter added.  It was a dangerous bit of information, information that she knew Hook would likely take full advantage of, but she was prepared to risk anything to return to her real home and regain her contact with Neverland.  But then, the words “by fairy law” gave her some wiggle room later… hopefully.

      Hook affected a bored expression, still watching Peter.  “My answer is still ‘no’.  I care nothing for ruling this wretched island and I long to quit it as soon as possible.  The Healer says that if the Gift is passed on, Pan will survive.  Is this true?”

      “Yes,” the pixie answered carefully.  “The Gift is draining her strength.  If it was removed, correctly this time, then Peter would recover.”

      Hook nodded and spoke to Gloriana again, firm in his decision now.  “Remove this Gift from Pan, but try not to kill the girl again.  Find some hapless whelp to infect it with – I care not who.  With Pan freed from it, there will be no reason for us to remain here.”

      “The Pan cannot be released without a new one to take it up immediately,” Gloriana answered tightly.  “If the Gift is damaged then it must have a new host, else it will die.  Despite your claim to Peter, I cannot and will not endanger Neverland further by doing as you wish.”  She took a breath, repressing her anger.  “Let her rebond, and once we find a new Pan we will do as you ask.”

      “I think not,” Hook snapped.  “I’m not giving you the luxury of time.  You have a week – a month at the most – to find a new Pan and to take Peter’s Gift.  I will see her dead of this before I let her reattach herself to that island.  That part of her life is over, and if it means her very life is over too, then so be it.”

      “You cold-hearted MONSTER!” Gloriana hissed in disbelief, her words echoed by the healer fairy.  Only Peter seemed unsurprised, and Hook noted that the hope he’d seen in her was now gone.  He’d make it up to her later, he swore silently.  “I thought you cared for her!” the queen continued, unable to comprehend how someone could be callous of a child’s life.

      “You thought incorrectly, as you have from the very moment I first laid eyes on you,” Hook replied disdainfully.  “This entire predicament is your fault, yours and your husband’s.  Do not expect me to be concerned over your mistakes.  I’ve long wanted Pan dead and only recently have I entertained the notion of keeping her alive for my own amusement.  If she lives, it will be under my conditions.  If she dies, so be it.  I assure you, I won’t weep for her when she’s lying cold and lifeless at my feet.”

      Gloriana stared, her mouth hanging open in a most undignified manner.  Her thoughts spun wildly as she struggled to find something to say.  There had to be a way to convince him!  How could he be so cold?  She’d seen his concern for Peter, it couldn’t have been an act… could it? 

      Hook took a step forward, his manner malevolent.  “Get off my ship and do not return without my permission, else I will bring Pan’s slow death to a rather abrupt and merciful conclusion.  She isn’t wearing her collar anymore, so there’s nothing to stop me from killing her.  That healer may come once a day to evaluate Pan’s health, but no one else is to come and she must consult with me when she arrives and before she leaves.  You and the rest of your kind are not welcome here.  Go, now, and do not come back.”

      Gloriana looked to Peter, seeing the tears that glimmered in the girl’s eyes.  “I’m sorry, Peter,” she whispered, helpless to do anything to save the girl.

      “Find a new Pan,” Peter murmured to her, struggling against her disappointment and despair.  She should have known better than to let herself hope.  Hope and happiness were things of her old life, her life as a boy.  As Hook had said:  that part of her life was over now.  “For Neverland’s sake, find a boy to be Pan and let me go.”  She saw Gloriana hesitate so she brushed the Healer off her shoulder and turned away.  “Hurry up and go, you’re wasting my time.  What if I only have a week?  Go and don’t come back until you’ve got a solution to my problem.”

      Gloriana nodded.  “I love you, Peter.  I’m sorry.”  She disappeared, and the Healer fairy disappeared with her.

      Peter glared at Hook when she was gone, fighting her tears.  Anger and sadness swirled in her heart, leaving aching pain in its wake.  “Get out, Captain,” she ordered softly, not trusting her voice enough to try to speak louder.  She feared she’d start screaming.

      Hook nodded and left, closing the door behind him.  There really wasn’t anything for him to say.