A touch of piratical fan fiction. Completely self-indulgent and just enough twisted to be my sort of thing. Leave everything you know about Peter Pan at the door, and enjoy.

The hook at my throat was as sharp as any needle might be, yet the one that wielded the dangerous weapon traced it over my skin with a practiced touch that did not even draw blood to the surface. “No one,” a harsh, deep voice whispered into my ear, “enters my private quarters aboard my ship. Not after I slit the throat of traitorous Smee who let the brigand Pan escape me.”

Smee? A traitor? Pan a brigand? My mind raced as the point of the hook began to dimple the soft spot of my throat. What in hell was going on? I’d been going up the stairs to my bed when Tana, my sheepdog had come barreling down the old stairs as though her fur were on fire. That was it. I’d fallen. Hit my head, perhaps. This was all an illusion, wasn’t it?

Illusion or no, I was being held in the tight embrace of a man who held a hook-ended knife to my throat. I was terrified and as my body shook, the man whose face I could not see, knew it as well.

“Pretty lass though you be, I do not find it a comfort to wake up to a young woman I have no knowledge of, standing over me.” His breath was warm against the back of my neck. “How came you to my ship?” He pressed the knife tighter against my throat, yet still drew no blood.

“Please, I do not know!” I gasped, my words shaking. “I was in my grandfather’s house, preparing for bed, and then I found myself in the darkness of your room.”

Suddenly I was released, able to turn round and face my captor. My fingers went to my throat, checking for damage, but there was none to be found. “Forgive my manners, lass, I would never harm a woman. James Hook, Captain of the H.M.S. Spider, at your service.” He bowed and then replaced his unique knife back beside his bunk. Both his hands were intact; neither one ending in a hook.

“Royal Navy?” I asked, severely confused. I’d seen Barrie’s play only recently premiered at the Duke of York’s Theatre, yet the man that stood before me claimed to be one of King Edward’s soldiers. “You’re not… a pirate?”

That brought forth a laugh from Captain Hook. “Me? A pirate? I’ve served good Queen Victoria for fifteen years.” He smiled, “Although, to bring in the pirates I do, I have played the part of such a scoundrel with the accuracy of an actor.”

“The one you called Smee. He was a pirate?” I asked, feeling a bit more on firmer ground.

“Aye, had me quite fooled, that one. He was a compatriot of the Pan; one of those sort called the Lost Boys. Tried to slit my throat, but no one matches me with knife nor sword. I sent Smee’s head to Pan with a warning that I’d soon have his head.” Hook glanced down at himself in his long nightshirt, and then at me. I, too, was still in my charmeuse, and it was chilly. “There’s still a bit of the night ahead of us. Take my bed, lass, and rest yourself. Be assured, I will stay to my chair at my desk. When the morning comes, perhaps we can make sense of this mystery that brought us together.

I was tired, and though I had so many more questions to ask, I quickly slipped into the bed while Hook made himself as comfortable as possible in his desk chair. “Thank you, Captain… Hook.”

“Do ye have a name, lass?” he asked me just before I closed my eyes.

“Lily Rose…” I murmured and promptly fell asleep.

******************

I woke to sunshine streaming into the dark cabin of the captain’s quarters. At the foot of the bed was a dress of brushed silk the color of deep blue peacock feathers. The dress was a remarkable fit, but I was at a loss of what to do with my hair. Always proper, I had at home a set of my grandmother’s combs with which to place my unruly curls upon my head. I had no choice but to comb out my hair with my fingers and to braid its length down my back. I then emerged from the cabin beneath the bridge of the ship and was faced with the curious looks of the ship’s crew.

“Miss Rose!” I glanced through the slats of the steps over my head and saw Captain Hook smiling down at me. “Do join us, would you?”

I quickly made my way up to the bridge, “Thank you, Captain, for the dress.”

“There always seems to be something leftover from the pirates we bring to justice, my dear. Allow me to introduce you,” he indicated two men that stood behind him. “My second-in-command, Lt. Charles Roger and our ship’s doctor and good friend, Jeremiah Berry. Gentleman, this is our guest I’ve been discussing with you, Lily Rose.”

“Welcome to the Spider, Miss Rose,” said the doctor as he slipped his arm through mine. “I would very much like to hear your side of this most intriguing predicament. Is there much that you can tell us?”

“Quite a bit, doctor,” I said softly. The lieutenant’s name rang awkwardly through my mind, Charles Roger, Charlie Roger, Jolly Roger; the name of Hook’s ship in the story. And Dr. Berry? The ship hit a gentle swell and I felt my stomach do enough of a turn, that I swayed dangerously. The Captain caught me and steadied me. “A bit of breakfast, first, I think, Jeremiah. Then we’ll hear the story.”

After a generous breakfast of eggs, bacon and even an orange, I told my listeners the following:

I recently traveled to London from America. My parents had both been taken by a cholera in New York. My grandparents were still alive and owned a large house in the very active and civilized city of London, in Downfield Court. My grandmother, Adelaide Rose, was a patron of the arts, and her friend, Arthur Conan Doyle, had recently spoken to her about a brilliant writer and playwright, James Barrie. Funding was needed for his play for children, The Boy Who Would Not Grow Up or Peter Pan.

Upon mentioning that name, the eyebrows of each man in the room were raised. I continued to tell them about my night at the premiere of Barrie’s play. I then told them about the story itself; Peter Pan, hero of Neverland and the Lost Boys, Captain Hook and his pirate ship, the Jolly Roger and more.

After the play my grandmother had introduced me to the author. He was a shy fellow more in tune with the children that had been brought to the play than the parents. I suspect my grandmother had hoped for a match of some sort, but I would have preferred…

“…the pirate to the author,” I stopped suddenly, rather horrified at what I’d just revealed. I felt the color rising to my cheeks and Dr. Berry chuckled. “Have no fear, dear Lily. I have a daughter your age who has terrible romantic notions of her own about pirates. A story from her good mother about the Pan’s more cruel nature tends to shed the starlight from her eyes; for a little while.”

During my story the Captain had gone above to see about the sailing of the ship. He came back down just as the doctor said, “As for a marriage of quality, you’re grandmother would do well to steer you toward an eligible captain in the King’s navy!”

Hook shut the door, “Trying to marry me off again, Jeremiah?” Hook smiled broadly at me. “Of course, I wouldn’t mind being your escort to the next ball at the palace, Miss Rose. I think you’d be an angel on your feet.”

I could only blush and was glad of Dr. Berry changing the subject, “James, such a fascinating situation this is. This lovely girl has tumbled back in time from 1904. But it’s hardly that simple, she’s also fallen into, what for her is, an alternate universe. In her world, magic, time travel, fortune tellers, vampires; they’re all subjects of books. Flights of fancy, it were.”

Hook sat down across from me. “Really? So fairies are a figments of your dreams?” I nodded. “Ghosts?”

“Folly created by charlatans,” I replied.

Hook shook his head. “It seems a dull world. How fortunate you are to be here, in our world. So much for you to discover.”

“Only if she wishes to stay here, James,” remarked the doctor. “I’m sure you’d want to return home, Lily. Not a difficulty, at least as far as our world is concerned.”

I was about to answer the doctor, when I paused. I looked toward the Captain who waited politely for my answer. I saw in the gleam of his blue eyes the reason he was so good at fooling other pirates; a touch of the pirate himself. Gentleman, yes, but there was a certain streak that captured me. I recalled the hook ended knife held to my throat.

I liked my grandparents, but little love was there. My grandfather never spoke to me and I was nothing but a commodity to my grandmother to be married off to the highest bidder. My decision was clear.

“However strange your world is to me, Dr. Berry, Captain Hook, I do not subscribe to the belief that Fate makes mistakes. For whatever the reason, I am here. I am curious to see how this adventure ends.” I smiled, boldly, at Captain Hook.

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