Chapter 13 – Broken Angel

 

      I think I’ll take a bath tomorrow, too, Peter mused as she leaned against the railing.  She was clean, dry and clothed now, and her body felt wonderfully relaxed.  Behind her, Mason was busy emptying the tub of now-cold water.

      “Judging by the obscene amount of time you spent in the bath, I wager you enjoyed it?” Hook asked as he approached her.

      “It was okay,” Peter answered offhandedly, stubbornly refusing to admit taking pleasure from anything the man offered.

      “You’re welcome, by the way,” Hook said, ignoring her obvious understatement.  “You called out your thanks, and you’re welcome for the bath.”

      Peter shrugged, regretting that she’d let her guard down enough earlier for that to have slipped out.  But then she turned to look up at him and smiled.  “Wendy said I should be polite, so I suppose as long as you’re being nice I should be nice too.”

      “A wise decision,” Hook answered, but his features were creased in a small frown as he took in her appearance.  “Where are your boots and what in perdition happened to your hair?”

      Peter glanced at her bare feet, wiggling her toes.  “My boots weren’t with the dress.  Mr. Smee left out some horribly ugly black boots, but I couldn’t figure out how to put them on.  And my hair,” she touched her ponytail briefly, “I brushed it some, but it was too tangled.  So I used the lace from one of the boots to tie it back out of my way.”

      Hook shook his head, took the girl’s arm and led her to Starkey.  The pirate looked up from his task of sharpening his sword, surprised.  “Do something with the rat’s nest on her head, then show her how to lace her boots,” Hook ordered.

      “Why me, Cap’n?” Starkey asked, his voice squeaking as he tried to hide his dismay.  Absently, his hand went to the faded bruises on his throat, recalling his previous hairstyling session with Pan.

      “Yeah, why him?” Peter added.  “I can do it.”

      Hook ignored the girl and smiled at Starkey.  “Because you have an appalling knowledge of women’s fashion.  You claim to have been quite the ladies’ man once, but I seriously doubt your story.  I’m more inclined to believe that the school you taught at was a women’s school, and that perhaps you found trouble there that forced you to turn to piracy for employment.  Otherwise, I would have to question your more personal preferences.   But I really don’t care how you know about female attire, so long as you apply that knowledge when I command you to.  When it comes to clothes, make-up, and hair-styling, you will assist Miss Pan and teach her how to do it herself.”  Hook narrowed his eyes and poked the pirate in the chest with the crook of his hook.  “And if I hear a word of protest, I’ll have you in a dress and passed on to the crew as this evening’s entertainment!”

      “Aye, aye, Cap’n,” Starkey quavered, his eyes wide with alarm.  “But I’ll need another brush.  The little miss broke mine on Mason’s head.”

---

      Thirty minutes later, Peter sat at a make-shift vanity in Hook’s cabin – seated on a stool facing a small table, upon which was propped a mirror.  Behind her, Starkey was immersed in his duty of grooming her hair.  It had been a trial getting the tangles out, the girl’s scalp was apparently very sensitive.  But Starkey had dealt with such ladies before and knew how to tease the knots out without pulling her hair.  He was fairly certain that this knowledge had saved him a lot of pain… he had no desire to have Pan try to strangle him again for hurting her.  Once that obstacle was passed, he’d been determined to teach her how to do this correctly, and had insisted that the key to healthy hair was to give it a hundred strokes with the brush.  Peter wasn’t complaining, not by a long shot.  She leaned on the table, her elbows propped on the surface and her chin supported by the heels of her hands.  She was, in fact, quite relaxed and content, and her eyes remained half-lidded as she made the merest pretense of trying to stay awake.

      Starkey grinned as he gave her hair another stroke, hearing her give a low, almost imperceptible moan.  He’d thought he’d been hearing things, but now that he was attuned to the sound he could make it out perfectly.  He turned to Hook, who was at his desk working on his logs, and caught the man’s attention.  He made a beckoning motion, putting his fingers to his lips to indicate silence.

      Hook crept to Starkey’s side, looking at the man quizzically.  But then Starkey began brushing Peter’s hair again, and Hook turned his attention to her, amazement flooding his features.  Is she…?   Surely not!  Another stroke and he heard it again.  Gall and brimstone!  She’s purring!  Hook grinned in delight as he took the brush from Starkey and began to run it through her hair.  Peter moaned again, the soft sound so low and throaty that it sounded feline.  She’s like a kitten, purring in contentment, he mused as he continued brushing.  Eliciting that sound gave him an acute sense of pleasure, and finally he could help himself no longer.  He set the brush aside and ran his fingers through her hair, reveling in the silky softness.  Playfully, he leaned down to murmur in her ear, “Do you like this, Kitten?”

      The sound of the man’s voice so close brought Peter speeding back to awareness.  Her eyes flew open, wide with panic, and she leapt forward to get away.  She struck the table with her hips, overturning it and sending the mirror crashing to the floor.  The hand in her hair tightened reflexively and she screamed as she pulled against it.  Searing agony burned her head as some of her hair was ripped out by the roots, and she began to thrash violently as she tried to get free.

      He’d startled her, Hook knew that, but she was far more panicked than she should be.  It occurred to him that she’d calm easier if he let her go, but it was too foreign to his nature to ever willingly allow Pan to escape him.  Instead, Hook tightened his fist in her hair and snaked his arm around her waist, trying to hold her still until she calmed.  Peter’s hands came up in response, her fingers locking around the man’s wrist in an effort to loosen his grip on her hair. 

      Calm down, Kitten,” he said as he sat on the stool she’d vacated.  A second later, Peter was sitting in across his lap.  “Calm down.”

      Peter drew a deep breath as her frazzled mind registered where she was.  She fixed her eyes on Hook’s face and it calmed her more to see the unguarded expression of true concern he wore.  “It hurts,” she said softly, her hands squeezing around his wrist.

      Apologetically, Hook released his hold on her hair.  “It seems I’ve undone all the good Starkey did in brushing it,” he commented as he tried to smooth down a snarled lock.

      Peter winced and pulled her head away from his hand, tentatively rubbing her injured scalp with her fingers.  “Why’d you pull my hair?”

      “I’m sorry.  I startled you and you panicked.  I had to hold onto something to keep you from bolting,” he explained.  “Are you alright now?”

      Peter nodded, still wincing.  “I don’t like people pulling my hair, it hurts a lot.  Wendy says it’s because I’m tender-headed.”

      “Are you, now?” Hook mused, intrigued.  He touched the girl lightly on the nape of her neck.  Peter’s shoulders instantly came up as her head tilted back - a reflex he had seen before, but never so acute as it was in this girl.  His hand rose and gently stroked the lobe of her ear.  Peter squeaked and jerked away, and Hook noted with amusement that her skin had blossomed with goose-bumps.  Very sensitive there, who would have thought it?  I’ll have to remember that if she mouths off again.  A good tug on her hair or ear would be more effective than a slap on the hand or rump.  He also thought that a comforting touch there might go a long way towards calming her.  No wonder she was purring.

      Peter, however, was not comfortable with her current position.  “You can let me go now, Captain,” she said stiffly.  His hand came towards her neck again and she tried to pull away.  “Stop touching me!”

      “What are you doing to my god-daughter, Captain Hook?” came a cold male voice.  Peter froze and clutched at the arm around her waist.  A familiar rustling sound filled the room and then Oberon was standing before them, glaring at Hook.  “I sincerely hope your intentions aren’t what they appear to be, else I will make you regret you’d ever been born.”

      Hook glared at Oberon, his face turning scarlet at the fairy’s insinuation.  But he looked at his position with new eyes and realized that it was rather inappropriate.  He tried to move Peter to stand her on her feet, but the girl merely gripped his arm tighter.  She’s terrified of him… he thought quickly and came to a decision.   I want her trust, and I can begin to get it by offering her protection from the one that betrayed her.  He opened his mouth to demand the fairy leave, but Peter spoke up at last.

      “He’s not doing anything to me, King Oberon,” she said, her voice sounding stronger than she felt.  She was afraid, but not nearly as afraid as she would have been were she not so tired.  “I was upset and he made me feel better.”

      Oberon turned his attention to Peter and the coldness left his eyes.  He studied his ward for several moments, taking in just how different she looked.  There was no denying her femininity now and he felt a flush of guilt and sadness when he saw how much she’d grown.  He took a step forward, and his sadness deepened when he saw the way she recoiled from him.  “What has upset you, child?” he asked softly, backing away a step.

      “Are all fairies that stupid,” Hook murmured in Peter’s ear, “or is it just the royal ones?”  He smiled when he heard Peter suppress a giggle and she relaxed somewhat.

      Peter felt the tension and fear that had nearly frozen her break, and she glared at Oberon with a small half-smile on her lips.  “Oh, nothing important,” she answered, sarcasm dripping from her words.  “I mean, its such a little thing that the two people I loved like parents, that swore they loved me, have disowned me and left me to rot with pirates while they’re busy looking for someone else to lie to and claim they love.”  She saw Oberon’s face draw up in a frown and she pressed on with reckless joy.  She’d felt helpless for too long and couldn’t resist trying to hurt the one that had put her in that position. 

      “Who cares that you’ve kidnapped my friends and taken them to be tested to replace me?  Why should I worry, knowing everything that could go wrong with the tests, knowing that they could be driven mad or killed?  It doesn’t matter at all to heartless creatures like fairies!”

      “Peter,” Oberon growled warningly, but the girl pressed on.  Behind her, she could feel Hook chuckling and she felt a strange sense of gratitude that he was there and on her side.  She didn’t even mind when his other arm wrapped around her waist.  She welcomed his embrace, it lent her the strength and security she desperately needed right now.

      “It doesn’t matter either that I’ve been collared like a dog – that it paralyzes me when I try to fight or to run away, or that it lets you dig into my mind and make me remember all kinds of things I don’t want to remember.  It was such great fun this morning, not being able to move or even scream.  Too bad the Croc didn’t come by then, she would have ended all your worries for you!”

      “No harm can come to you, little ingrate!” Oberon snapped, angry more at hearing his actions questioned than the increasingly belligerent tone of Peter’s voice.  “Despite your treason, we’ve left you with every protection.  I could have put you in a dungeon cell, but instead I’ve left you where there’s air and light!”

      “Don’t try to pretend you did it for me!” Peter screamed, enraged and finally able to vent her feelings.  “You left me with my enemy to fend for myself, and without the means to escape or protect myself!”

      “If Hook or any of his men try to harm you, the collar’s magic will strike them dead!” Oberon shouted back, flustered and furious.  Only Gloriana ever questioned him and only his Queen had that right.  It bothered him to find that, however much he was angry at Peter right now, he still cared enough for her to actually try to defend himself from her accusations.

      “Excuse me?” Hook barked incredulously.  Close behind him he heard Starkey’s gasp of surprise.  “Your queen forgot to mention that very important warning when she placed this girl in my arms!”

      “I would have thought that Peter would tell you,” Oberon said simply.  “Bragged about it even, lording over you that she was immune to your threats.”

      Hook said nothing as he glared down at the girl on his lap.  Peter felt him tense up, his body beginning to shake with anger.  His claw arm twitched, and she knew he would have killed her then were it not for the trap around her neck.  Peter stilled, realizing how foolish she’d been to warm up to Hook, even a little bit.  “How was I supposed to know?” she snapped, feeling alone and outnumbered again.  “I was asleep when you put the damned thing on me!  I didn’t even know it was there until Wendy pointed it out!”

      “Aye, that’s true,” Hook growled, relaxing somewhat.  He turned his gaze back on Oberon, “It would have been safer for you to have explained the restraints you placed on her as well as the protections.  It would have saved her the effort of swimming to shore, and the effort I went through to get her back.  And if any of my crew had died because of your neglect…”

      “You would continue to sit there and remain quiet, and be thankful I don’t turn you into a real codfish, Captain,” Oberon retorted.  He looked back to Peter and the anger faded to puzzlement.  “We gave you the eyes to See, Peter.  Surely you’ve Seen the magic of the collar and tried to find a weakness?  I thought it would be the first thing you did when you awoke.”

      Peter stared at Oberon blankly, trying to understand what he meant.  Then she blinked, giving a start as she remembered.  “Oh!  I forgot I could do that… I haven’t Seen in so long.”

      Oberon’s frown deepened and he stretched out his hand towards her.  From his palm arose a thin tendril of magic, as tangible as smoke.  “You say that a lot, Peter… too much in fact.  I assumed your excuse of forgetting was just that: a weak excuse.”  The wispy cloud drifted towards the girl, but it paused when Peter shrank away, pressing her back close against the pirate’s chest.  Oberon could read the fear, anger and confusion in her eyes and realized Gloriana was right:  left unchecked, Peter could easily come to hate them.  And if Peter became the enemy of the fairy court, Neverland itself would ally with her against them.  It would become a war between them, and only the Pan’s death would bring the island back under his control.  “I can’t hurt you either, Peter,” he said soothingly, trying to ease her. 

      “Maybe not physically,” Peter answered, wincing as the magic reached for her again.

      The king winced too, but he sent the magic on to gently caress her brow, tasting her.  Almost immediately he sensed the tangled layers of fairy magic in her mind and he hissed as he withdrew his spell.  “I’m going to rip Tinker Bell’s wings off and feed her to a cat!”

      “No!” Peter shouted, afraid for her friend.  She pushed against Hook and the man set her down so that she could stand before her godfather.  “Leave Tink alone!”

      “I’m sorry, Peter, I truly am,” the fairy said softly.  “All these years, you’d say you forgot things, and we laughed, thinking you were being childish – one of your charming little habits.  We didn’t realize what she was doing to you… she could have killed you!”

      Peter paused, dread knotting in her stomach.  “Tink would never hurt me,” she protested.

      “She’s used her magic to make you forget things,” Oberon explained, feeling guilt well up all over again at the way he’d treated this girl.  “Not just once, but countless times!  The layers of spells are like a badly made dam, remove the wrong one and they all come crashing down.  I thought you were lying about forgetting your gender, Peter, that’s why we dug into your mind to find the truth.  I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, and I’m sorry I hurt you.  With that weave of magic, she could have made you forget anything, made you believe anything!”

      Peter felt hope kindle in her heart.  “If you know I wasn’t lying, then can I go home?  Will you still love me and not make me leave Neverland?”

      Oberon shook his head, clearing his shock at his discovery.  “We don’t know yet what happened, and we don’t know when Tinker Bell cast this spell on you.  You aren’t cleared of this deception yet, but it does weigh heavily in your favor that you honestly didn’t know when we uncovered the truth.  I will get to the bottom of this mystery, and I will have a long chat with your fairy.  Things will be sorted out and made right when I finally know the truth.”

      “And then I can go home?” Peter asked, but the look her godfather fixed on her made her heart quail.  At his next words, she felt it die in her chest.

      “Regardless of what I find out, you will still be replaced, Peter,” Oberon said sternly.  “A girl cannot be Pan, no matter how much we love her.  We will find a boy to take the Gift, and when you are no longer Pan you will leave Neverland and never return.”  He paused when Peter began wailing, and he felt remorse for his harsh words when he saw her sink to her knees, her face drawn up with grief.  His compulsion to go to her was stilled when Hook dropped to his knee beside her, offering the girl his support.

      “It will be alright,” Hook told her softly, trying to comfort her by stroking her hair gently.  He looked up at the king, “You won’t send her to Kensington Gardens to become a beggar, will you?  You’ll give her to me, like you promised?”

      “If she’s guilty of deception, then I will give her to you,” Oberon swore, “But if she is innocent, she will choose where she wishes to go.  There are other lands in the fairy realm that will welcome her; she just cannot remain in Neverland.”

      “Or you’ll just kill me to get the power back, like you did before,” Peter sobbed, trying to get herself back under control.  But she hurt inside, knowing that her life in Neverland was over, one way or another.

      “I won’t kill you, Peter, unless you make me.  The collar will protect you then, and even now it is working to prepare you for the day we Release you.”

      Peter wiped her eyes on the hem of her dress and stood, accepting the hand up that Hook offered her.  “How?” she asked, her voice steadier now as she somehow put aside her feelings to deal with the matter at hand.

      Oberon pulled a small sphere from his robe and stared at its red glow for a moment.  “We will discuss all of that at a more appropriate time, Peter.  Just take comfort in my assurance that you will not die and that we will not simply cast you into the wilderness when we no longer need you.  There was a reason for my coming here today, and if I don’t attend to that reason soon, there won’t be a need to.  Billy Jukes has failed the test and is unsuitable as a Pan.”  The sphere hovered above his palm for a moment before it floated to Peter.  The girl stared at it uncertainly before reaching out and taking it into her own hand.  “He’s had… difficulties.”

      Oh, no, Peter thought, guessing who was inside the small orb.  She gently squeezed and it popped, spilling a glowing red mist through her fingers down to the floor.  It pooled there and from it appeared a boy curled up into a ball. 

      “What did you do to my gunner?” Hook snarled as he squatted beside the boy. 

      Jukes stirred at the sound of his captain’s voice, uncurling and opening his eyes.  Hook swore softly when he beheld the boy’s blind eyes, the orbs milky with cataracts.  “Captain?” Billy called, weakly reaching out for the man he heard so close beside him.  Then he turned his face towards Peter and a shudder passed through him.  He closed his eyes and covered them with his hands as he began to scream.

      Hook stood and drew his sword.  “You bastard!” he snarled, raising the blade to kill the smug-looking fairy king.

      Oberon raised his hand and the sword flew from Hook’s grip to embed itself in the wall.  When the pirate raised his claw, Oberon gestured again, sending the man skidding backwards several feet to land on his rear.  “Sit there like a good little pirate,” Oberon ordered and Hook found to his rage that he couldn’t rise.  “Peter, close your eyes and See what’s wrong with the boy.  Hopefully you can fix it, or he’s not going to be much use as a gunner anymore.”

      Peter stared at Billy, dropping to her knees beside him.  She could see that he was in pain and frightened, so she did Oberon’s bidding without hesitation.  She closed her eyes for a moment, attuning them to the levels she needed to See.  When she opened them again, the physical world was gone and she beheld the glowing fires of magic that imbued it.

      She glanced around, getting her bearings.  Behind her was the aurora-like glow that was Neverland.  To her left, she saw two glowing-white man-shapes she knew were Hook’s and Starkey’s souls (souls and magic weren’t the same thing, but they were close enough that Peter could see them both with the Sight).   Absently, she noticed that Hook’s appendage glowed with magic – interesting, but not important right now.  Oberon stood before her, glowing bright with power.  She could see the strands of magic that connected him to Neverland, and the strands that joined him to herself.  She frowned as she noticed something was wrong along those lines, but concerns about that fled her mind when Billy screamed again.

      Remembering her task, Peter turned her gaze to the boy lying before her.  She touched the tendrils of magic wrapped about his head like a blindfold, clucking softly to herself.  Billy brought up his hands again, and she saw the ribbon of magic he clutched.  He pulled it to his face, adding another layer of magic, and she understood what had happened. 

      “Don’t do that, you silly ass,” she murmured softly, winding a thread around his hands and body to hold him still.  “You gave him Sight, didn’t you, and he was too sensitive to it,” she told Oberon as she worked, slowly unwinding the magic.  “He probably didn’t like what he saw, too old to get used to it, and he used the magic to try to blind himself.”  She worked carefully, letting Billy adjust as his vision slowly became more normal.  “He didn’t understand he was making it worse.”  As she worked, the cataracts covering the boy’s eyes began to dissolve, leaking away to run down the sides of his face like milky tears.

      Billy began to calm as the layers were removed and the grotesque, unbearably bright shapes dimmed and resolved themselves into more tolerable images.  He didn’t understand at first, but he responded to the comforting voice above him.  He blinked, and all at once the world fell into place and he gasped at the wonder of it.  “Wait,” he begged, fixing his eyes on the figure above him.  “Please wait, let me see you.”

      Peter nodded and left the last layer of magic in place.  Billy struggled to sit up and she unbound him so he could.  “You weren’t making a blindfold, silly, you were making glasses.  And they were way too strong for your eyes.  But now you can See just fine and when I take that last bit off, your eyes will be normal again.”

      Billy stared at the girl, smiling softly.  “Are you an angel?” he whispered, reaching out to touch one of the soft, white ribbons that flowed from her body like angelic robes.  No, not robes.  They’re a part of her, more like hair, or petals if she were a flower.  Like white flames, the magic flowed from her in waves and strands, connecting her to everyone and everything around her.  “You’re so beautiful,” he said aloud, daring to touch her face.

      Peter flushed at the compliment, both strangely pleased and embarrassed by it.  She could understand what he meant, she always thought the magic surrounding her was wonderful, too.  When it had still been new to her, she’d spent hours just watching it flow around her.  But he said I was beautiful, not the magic, and her flush deepened at the thought.

      Then Billy gasped and drew back, his eyes widening in shock.  “What did they do to you?  How could they do something so awful?”  He pointed at her neck and turned to Oberon.  “Take it off!  It’s killing her!”

      “Not quite,” the fairy king said softly.  “We’ll intervene before she dies of it.”

      “You son of a bitch!” Billy shouted, leaping towards Oberon. 

      The fairy gestured, halting the boy’s advance.  “I think you’ve seen enough,” he said as he touched the gunner’s face, removing the last layers of magic that Peter had said were there.

      Billy grunted in shock as the world of living flame vanished, abruptly changing into the world of solidity he’d been born to see.  The suddenness of the change disoriented him and he fell to his knees.  Vertigo and nausea overcame him and he vomited once before passing out.

      Oberon grimaced as some of the mess splattered onto his robes and shoes, but he ignored it.  Instead, he used a spell to roll the boy out of the puddle and onto his back.  A low moan caught his attention and he looked to Peter.  She stared blankly down at herself, her hands creeping up to her throat.  Oberon didn’t know what she saw, he couldn’t see the magic like Peter (and recently, Billy) could.  But by her expression of horror and the alarming shade of grey her complexion had turned, he knew she didn’t like it.  “Peter?” he called, going to her.

      “No,” Peter moaned, beginning to claw at her throat as she stood.  She was unsteady on her feet, swaying as she began to back away from him.  “No, please, no, take it off.”  Her nails made shallow scratches as she frantically tried to remove the collar.

      “Peter, calm down, it’s for your own good,” Oberon tried to explain.  He saw her panic, saw her begin to draw blood.  It trickled onto the silver band, where it was promptly absorbed.

      “No, no, no-no-no-no-no,” Peter chanted her denial, her voice rising in hysterics.  Beneath her fingers, the silver collar turned black.

      “Stop it, Peter!” Oberon hissed, reaching for her hands.  His fingers closed around her wrists and Peter screamed.  Lightning flashed between them, breaking their contact and throwing them apart.  Oberon found himself on his back several feet away.  Peter struck the wall behind her, the back of her head connecting with it solidly.  Her body went limp and her eyes rolled back as she slid to the floor, unconscious.

      Oberon sat up, shaken by what had just happened.  He didn’t understand it, the only explanation he could think of was that the collar had perceived him as a threat and repelled him.  That blow would have killed a mortal, but his power had shielded him.  Unfortunately, it had blown back on Peter. 

      “Peter?” he called, getting to his feet.  She was slumped against the wall and he could see a trickle of blood issuing from her lips.  She’s hurt!  He was halfway to her when he was brought up short by the point of a sword under his nose.  Ignatius Starkey stood between him and his godchild, his sword held out threateningly.

      “Haven’t you hurt the girl enough?  Leave her be and let her own kind take care of her,” the thin pirate growled, shaking with outrage.

      “I am her godfather!” Oberon snarled and the blade of Starkey’s sword turned black and dissolved into ash.

      Starkey dropped the useless hilt but stood his ground.  “Then act like it for once and think about HER!  Captain Hook hated her and he never managed to hurt her this much!”

      Oberon looked to the unconscious girl, seeing the blood on her lips and her throat.  Oh, Glory, what will we do?  This has gone so wrong, but there’s no going back.  He felt tears in his eyes as he turned to regard the man in his path.  Such a small man, unarmed, with no powers of his own, and he still dared to defy the Fairy King.  This is why humankind will outlast us.  “Take care of her,” he said at last.  He glanced at Hook and released him, nodding as the man got to his feet.  “Both of you take care of her.  It’s a shameful thing when her enemies can show her more compassion that her own family.  But I have an entire kingdom to care for and she’s endangered it more than you know.  I can’t let my own emotions for her cloud my judgment, and I will not sacrifice all of them for her.”

      “Tell yourself whatever you need to, if it helps you sleep at night, pixie,” Hook growled as he stood by Starkey’s side. 

      Oberon’s face darkened, but he said not a word as he faded from sight.

      “Tell Mullins his boy’s back,” Hook told Starkey, “and send Smee to me.”  He knelt by Peter and began checking her injuries.  He shook with fury, but his touch remained gentle.  I will kill him, king or not, if he hurts either of my children again!