Mia and Hook stood on the terrace of a crumbling citadel at a remote part of town overlooking the beach. A little while ago, Smee and four other crewmen had met them outside Lady Montoya's tienda to gather Mia's art supplies, freeing them up to wander leisurely about the town. In a desire to put some space between themselves and the chaotic bustle of Puerto Dorado, Hook had led Mia to these idyllic ruins overlooking the north shore of the island.
"No one really knows what this place is," said Hook, gesturing to the ruins around them. "It's been here longer than Puerto Dorado has been a town. Since the time of the Ancient Dizgaians. I suspect it was once either a palace or a temple."
"It's really beautiful," said Mia.
She stood at the edge of the terrace in front of the stone railing and looked out to sea. Below them, miles of pure white sand stretched to the east and west. Northward, waves crashed against the rocks, and the sparkling sea went on for an eternity.
"How come no one else comes out here?" she asked, thinking about the rowdy crowd back in town. "I would have thought that pirates might want to loot this place. Or are they too dumb to realize that they could find something of anthropologic worth in this rubble?"
"Anthropologic, eh?" said Hook, casting her a toothy grin. "That thar be a mighty big word ye be usin'. We just be humble pirates, lassie."
This manner of speech was so out of character that Mia gaped at him for a moment until she realized he was being silly. She laughed. The sound echoed prettily through the ruined temple.
Hook closed his eyes and smiled. "Ah. Music to my ears."
Smiling, Mia averted her gaze bashfully.
"Dumb is the right word, Mia. Pirates are a very superstitious lot. Knowing that these are the ruins of an ancient Dizgaian civilization, they think there may be protective enchantments placed upon it, and they fear they'll be cursed if they trespass. Such simpletons." His expression softened. "But I'm glad of it. I'm very fond of this place, and I'd be much aggrieved if it were to be overrun with the likes of them."
"Do you come here often?" Mia asked, leaning against the stone railing.
"Every time I'm in town," he replied, resting his arms across the railing and leaning forward alongside her. He was looking out to sea, his gaze as distant as the horizon.
Mia was surprised by how peaceful he looked right now. The wistful expression on his face and the way the wind blew gently through his long, raven hair... Never before had he looked so young and carefree, or so romantic. Mia tried desperately to memorize every detail of this scene, for she would love to paint it someday.
"I've been coming here since long before I was captain of the Jolly Roger," he said. "Back when I was just a lad, a mere swabbie first sailing under the skull and crossbones. When we were in dock at Puerto Dorado, this is where I always came to seek repose."
"And you brought me here," she said wonderingly.
Hook turned his forget-me-not gaze to her. "And I brought you here," he echoed softly.
Mia turned her eyes back to sea.
Why? she wondered.
If this was his private, secret place, why would he show it to her?
Maybe he really does like me, I mean, if he's willing to take me to his secret place where he comes to hide from the world.... And he did buy me all that nice stuff.
But another thought came to her, a less appealing and more cynical conclusion. Her expression must have changed to reflect her thoughts, for Hook quickly took notice.
"What ever is the matter, precious? You look as though something is troubling you."
Mia kept her gaze seaward as she replied. "Well, I guess it's just all this stuff you're doing for me... all this stuff you've been buying me. I can't pretend to understand the currency you use, but it seems like a lot of money. It makes me wonder..." She hesitated and forced herself to meet his gaze. "You're grooming me, aren't you?"
"Grooming you?" he said, looking affronted. "What a disgusting accusation, Mia."
"I'm sorry. It's just that—"
"Have I been trying to win your affections?" he swiftly interjected. "Yes, just the same as I would attempt to win the affections of any young woman I had the intention of courting."
"Then you admit it."
"I admit," said Hook, his eyes narrowed in an annoyed glare, "that I thought, perhaps foolishly, that I could buy your affections. But grooming you?" He made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. "I am not looking for lewd favors. I've told you before, I take more pleasure in winning a woman through my powers of seduction than forcing myself on her."
"So what category does manipulation fall into?"
"Manipulation?" he said, his voice rising above the crash of the waves below. "If I'm trying to manipulate you at all, it is only for your affection! Not for some perverse—"
"What about the alleyway?" Mia countered.
Hook angrily strode towards her. Mia gasped as he planted his hand and hook on the railing on either side of her, trapping her between his arms.
"Is it true that I desire you? I'd be a liar if I gave you anything but a full confirmation there. Certainly, my behavior in the alley is proof of that. But buying you gifts is not the way I intend to seduce you. I have other methods for that. Did it ever occur to you, Mia, that I might want something more from you than just your body?"
Mia gaped at him. She didn't know quite what to say to this. With a sigh, Hook released her and walked away, turning once more to gaze across the ocean.
"I admit that when I first laid eyes on you, it was a fascination and a physical desire which drew me to you – that and the idea that I could use you as bait to capture Pan. But since having you on my ship and getting to know more about you, I've found myself drawn to you in a more meaningful way. I feel as though I've found a kindred spirit in you, someone who just might be able to understand me."
Mia straightened up, tilting her head curiously. A kindred spirit? Really? Then again, considering their discussion in his cabin the night he played the harpsichord and she sketched him, perhaps that was not totally off the mark.
He turned towards her again, his expression earnest. "You and I, we both have an artist's heart. Your drawings, my music. They are our preferred way to express ourselves, our deepest selves. You spoke of your mother and how you felt she didn't support your artistic endeavors the way a mother ought to. For me, it was my stepfather."
A mother and a stepfather. How human he was! How normal! It was so surreal. Mia never expected Hook to be so multidimensional. Furthermore, she was surprised by how easily he opened up to her. Mia wondered if perhaps she ought to be flattered. After all, it was not in his nature to be so open. Did he really like her so much that he had no qualms giving her such insight to the being that was James Hook?
"What about your biological father?" she asked.
Hook turned his gaze out to sea once more. "I never met him. He died when I was very young. Too young to remember."
As more of Hook's ambiguous and possibly tragic past was revealed, little by little Mia found herself ever more drawn to him.
"My father also—"
She stopped short. That wasn't true. Her biological father was alive and well in Cerenopia. Her mother had only told her that her father had died. A combination of years of believing this lie and that fact that her time on Neverland had addled her brain caused her to almost speak this untruth.
Hook's eyebrows lifted. "Yours as well?"
"Well," said Mia, flushing, "It's not so much that he died. My mother just told me he was dead. She had me believing it for years. I never knew the truth until recently."
"Tsk," he said with a disapproving shake of his head. "It must be awful for you, coming from such an estranged family and knowing you've been lied to your whole life. If that isn't hardship, I don't know what is."
Mia had never really thought about it that way. Certainly, she'd been angry at her mother after meeting the Dreamfinder and learning the truth of herself and of how her mother had taken her to Earth and abandoned her father. But that didn't mean she hadn't had a good life on Earth... right? To Mia's horror, she realized she didn't actually remember much from then.
But it wasn't all that long ago, she thought in a panic. How could I forget?
She supposed there was Neverland to consider, and the effect it had on one's memory. The island of youthful delights gave everyone who visited its shores a short-term memory.
But I'm away from Neverland now! I've been away for... days... a week?
So then why was she still feeling so forgetful?
"But you see where I am coming from, Mia," continued Hook, none-the-wiser to her distress and the current trajectory of her thoughts. "You and I, we have much in common. We have suffered much in our lives. Your heart has been broken, and mine... Well, the only evidence that I even have one left to me after all this time is that I can still play such soulful music, and furthermore, that I still find pleasure in the arts – in your art, my dear." Placing his hand over his heart, he gazed desperately into her eyes. "It spoke to me, Mia. It got this wasted heart to beating again. It made me feel something. That is why I took you to Lady Montoya's tienda – so that I may encourage you. So that while you are in my company, your gift doesn't fade."
Mia didn't know what to think, but she couldn't deny the way she felt. How could someone be so passionate about someone else's passion? About her passion, when she, herself was so easily discouraged? It made her want to smile and cry at the same time. She thought that maybe, just as Hook claimed she might understand him, that he in turn understood her. Perhaps there really was something to what he was saying. Dare she think that she could be more like this villainous scoundrel than anyone she'd ever met? Was he right? Could they be kindred spirits?
"Regardless of what you may think of me," he said. "My admiration for you, for your creative passions, for your perseverance through hardships, and for your bravery... it remains strong."
"Bravery? I'm not brave."
"I beg to differ, Mia."
"How have I been brave?"
"You silly girl, shall I count the ways? To start, you've held yourself gallantly in the face of your kidnapping. Furthermore, you've befriended some of the most intimidating men on my crew. You even intervened and spared Alf Mason's life – a man who would have done unspeakable things to you if he could have gotten away with it – subsequently cementing his loyalty to you."
Mia opened her mouth to argue, but took a moment to consider his words. She supposed it was true that she'd not had a complete mental breakdown over her kidnapping. That was something. As for Alf Mason, it was in her nature to be compassionate.
"And let us not forget the countless times that sweet, mocking mouth has boldly scorned me," said Hook, placing his hand against her cheek as his thumb trailed gently across her lips. "Though I am your captor, and a formidable man to cross, you've rarely been afraid to speak your mind to me."
"I guess I'm a modern woman," said Mia, her lips quirking slightly at the corner.
Hook threw his head back and laughed. "That you most certainly are, my dear."
"But I'm not brave."
"Why do you say that?"
Mia lowered her head, wishing to hide the tears in her eyes. "Because... I... I want to go home."
Hook offered her a smile that was both tender and pitying. "That's nothing to be ashamed of, dear," he assured her, his fingers trailing gently through her hair. "That does not make you a coward. It is perfectly natural for you want to go home, under the circumstances."
"Then take me!" she shouted, shoving his hand away from her. "Return me to Cerenopia!"
Hook scowled. "If I've told you once, I've told you several times, Mia, that is not possible."
"Then commission someone who can take me home! Or put me in a dinghy and point me in the right direction! Do something!"
"And then what?" he demanded. "Leave you to fend for yourself in Dizgaia's vast oceans and expect you not to be picked up by some scoundrel less principled than I, or picked off by some sea monster?"
"Sea monster? There are friggin' sea monsters?!"
"Exactly my point, Mia! How naïve you are! You've never even been outside of Cerenopia before Neverland, have you?"
Mia lowered her gaze as tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over. "I... I don't remember."
"What? You don't... Mia, don't play games with me," he said sternly.
"That's just it!" she cried. "Something's wrong with me! I'm forgetting things. Things I shouldn't be forgetting. At first, I thought it was just Neverland causing it. But there are things even now I can't remember. Like, there was something not just before Neverland, but before before."
Her memories from before Dizgaia were hazy at best. She knew she was from Earth. She knew her mother hadn't been particularly supportive of her artistic endeavors. She knew she possessed a great spark, just like her biological father, the Dreamfinder, and that she needed to be kept a secret from the Dark Ones because of it. But much of her life on Earth prior to Dizgaia was slipping away. In fact, she couldn't even recall exactly how she'd left Earth and come to Dizgaia, or under what circumstances.
"Before before?" said Hook, his brow knitting in confusion. "What in the world does that mean? And what ever could it be that is slipping your mind that is so dire?"
Mia shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I don't know," she whispered.
Hook thought back to his conversation with Lady Montoya, and specifically the painting of Mia with her hands at her mouth and the man on the ground, bleeding from his nose.
'La creadora possesses a dark past.'
A look of genuine concern flitted across his face as he placed a hand on Mia's shoulder. "As contradictory as this sounds," he said, "Do you remember any of what you're forgetting?"
Mia scrunched up her face in thought, then shook her head. "No... not really. But I get the feeling that even if I did, I'm not supposed to tell you."
No, indeed! She could not let him know that she was from Earth. No one outside of her friends and allies could know that. That must be kept just as secret as her spark.
As though the word 'spark' had summoned it, Mia had a strange sort of spark in her memory. In something like a flash, a jumble of images came to her mind. The happiest place on Earth... or so it would seem, until a man in a red jacket shoved through the crowd; another man, one she knew and loved, falling to the ground; a voice yelling at her to run; running away, the red-coated man in hot pursuit; a clash of weapons; a tunnel of rainbow light; horrifying creatures leaping out of a vortex of green flame.
Curiosity and panic waged war inside Hook as he watched the girl's eyes gloss over. Mia looked as though she were somewhere else entirely, somewhere far away.
"Mia, what is it?"
Her hands came to her mouth in much the same manner as depicted in the painting Lady Montoya had shown him, and she let out a strangled cry. Hook grabbed her shoulder and gave her a shake, trying to snap her out of it.
"Mia, what's wrong? Mia!"
Mia quickly snapped to, the one-thousand-yard stare leaving her eyes as she was brought back to the here and now. In lieu of an answer, she buried her face against his chest and cried, clinging to the lapels of his crimson coat.
"I c-can't t-tell you. I'm s-sorry," she cried, seeking his warmth and protection despite her next words. "Hook, please... I'm begging you, let me go. Send me home. I need to get back. I can't stay with you."
Hook wrapped his arms around her. Despite the fact that Hook was one of the most notorious villains in all of literature, and although he was one of The Dark Ones, somehow, quite strangely, his embrace made her feel safe and protected. Holding her close, he lifted the hat off her head and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.
"Dear, sweet Mia..."
Mia held her breath, waiting, praying.
"I will just as soon help you forget these memories that pain you so than let you get away from me. I am not letting you go. So, you'd best push those thoughts out of your mind straightaway."
The girl's lips quivered. Her eyes filled with tears of despair.
Hook cupped her chin and tilted her face towards his. "Mmm... Such sorrow on a face so young. Let me kiss it away..."
"D-Don't," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "I've only just remembered! I don't want to forget! I can't! I—"
Hook's lips crashed into hers like the waves that battered the shore below them. And this time, he was not to be deterred. Despite Mia's fears and worries and troubles, James Hook was ready, willing, and able to push all of that off and make her drift away in the sea of his passion. Hook basked in the taste of her lips. They were so deliciously soft, and whether Mia wished to admit it or not, they trembled with a yearning that perhaps even she did not realize. And right now... they belonged to Hook.
Oh, how helpless she was! Mia could never have imagined herself in such a position, and if she ever had, it certainly wouldn't have proceeded with her submitting like a silly little damsel. But all the pain, all the fears, her heartbreak over Peter, it all rendered her vulnerable to the captain's insatiable desire. Gradually, she leaned into the kiss, tilting her head in a sweet, hungry way. It was as though his kisses were magic, as though they had the power to make her forget – for suddenly, all the memories that had returned to her but a moment ago were lost to sea as the waves of his kisses crashed against the shore of her lips.
Nevertheless, there remained that tiny voice in the back of her head, shouting, Stop! Don't you know who he is? Don't you know what he is? Don't be a fool!
This was a dangerous game she was playing, and it was threatening to grow ever more dangerous here in the remote ruins of an ancient Dizgaian temple with no one around to interrupt. Would he have her here and now, or would he show self-restraint? And if he didn't, if he couldn't, would Mia be able to stop him? Would she even try? Would she even want to?
As the two fell deeper and deeper into their desire, a voice rang out from the shores below.
"AHOY, HOOK!"
The captain's eyes snapped open. Mia gasped for air as he broke the kiss and looked beyond her to the shore below. Mia's hands remained perched on the railing behind her as her chest heaved with heavy, ragged breaths. That voice, that blessed voice! It had saved her from a most delicious but nevertheless embarrassing downfall.
Below them, tying his sloop to the rocks was Hook's trusted spy, Billie Howe.
"Curse your blasted timing, Mr. Howe," said Hook, barely above a mutter. He disentangled himself from Mia and raised his hand to the pirate below. "AHOY, MR. HOWE!"
The pirate below hurried up along the crumbling staircase which led from the beach to the terrace above, taking the steps two at a time in his exuberance. He was three steps away from the top when the decaying steps gave out and began to crumble beneath him.
"WOOOAH!"
Mia gasped and moved forward instinctively, but Hook beat her to it. He rushed to Billie's aid and seized hold of one of his flailing arms. With a grunt of effort, Hook pulled him safely onto the stone terrace. Mia marveled at Hook's strength. But more than that, she was shocked by how swiftly and unthinkingly he'd gone to Mr. Howe's rescue. Typically, Hook hardly batted an eye when one of his crewmen were injured.
"A little more careful next time, Mr. Howe," said the captain with a curiously playful smile on his face.
Mia blinked her eyes, wondering if she was seeing this right. Captain Hook never shared that sort of expression with any of the Jolly Roger's crew. Ever.
Billie laughed sheepishly. "Saved me life again, Hook! Now that's two life debts I owes yeh!"
Hook let out a short laugh. "Hardly worth putting on the record, Billie."
Then, to Mia's further astonishment, Billie Howe pulled Hook in for a manly but nonetheless affectionate one-armed hug. And furthermore... Hook went willingly! When they'd broken their embrace, Billie Howe glanced down at the crumbled staircase.
"I remember 'em bein' a lot sturdier when we was lads, Jim. D'yeh think they've worn out or 'ave I gotten wider 'round the middle, d'ya think?"
He patted his belly, which was hardly wide. In fact, the guy was rather lanky. He had wide brown eyes, a shock full of messy brown hair, and a scruffy-looking five o'clock shadow that didn't quite seem capable of growing into a beard. He looked about Hook's age, if not a little younger. In fact, next to the cabin boy, Bill Jukes, Billie Howe might be the youngest man on Hook's crew.
"Nonsense," said Hook. "You're as fit as I've ever seen you. In fact, you could stand to put on a few pounds. Perhaps you could borrow some from Smee."
Laughing, Billie leaned against a particularly weak part of the stone railing, only for it to break off and plummet to the beach below. "Woah!" Billie wind-milled his arms and righted himself. "Tha' was a close 'un!"
Despite having almost died twice, the man merely laughed it off. He crossed one arm behind his head and stretched the other towards the sky and let out a loud groan as his joints cracked.
"I tells yeh, Jim... I sure hates makin' that journey all by me lonesome."
"Why did you come to this side of the island, Billie?" asked Hook.
"Aye, that," said Billie, scratching his scruffy cheek. "The winds kept changin' on me. Methinks there's trouble abrewin' on the water, Jim." He looked nervous. "Yeh don't think she might be—"
Hook silenced him with a stern look. "There'll be quite enough of that, Mr. Howe."
It was a curious conversation, to say the least. Mia tilted her head thoughtfully. Who was the she Mr. Howe referenced? And what did she – whoever that might be – have to do with the winds changing at sea? And why did Hook not want to talk about this supposed 'she'?
"Might I inquire about my bird, Mr. Howe?"
"Oh! Right. Soon as we came within sight of Isla Tesoro, the bugger took off fer land. I reckon 'e was headed back to the Jolly Roger to rejoin 'is mate. I tells yeh, Cap'n, I hates bein' alone with that thing. The way it looks at me with them beady glowin' eyes..." He trailed off with a shiver.
"Wait a minute," said Mia, aghast. "There are two of those things?"
"Well, of course, dear," said Hook, casting an amused grin in her direction. "After all, how was I to communicate with Mr. Howe if there wasn't another parrot on the other side?"
He made it sound like simple logic, as though he were speaking of walkie-talkies and not two supernaturally creepy parrots. Then again, Mia supposed that was a perfect analogy for how they worked.
"Most people would just use cell phones," she grumbled.
Billie had leapt to attention at the sound of Mia's voice; he hadn't noticed her until now. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "I didn't know you was, er, with someone. Me apologies, Cap'n." He offered Hook a sheepish grin before bowing his head to Mia. "Beggin' yer pardon, Miss." He put his hands on his hips and turned to Hook with a sly smile. "Are the women on this island gettin' purttier, Cap'n? Where'd ye find 'er?" Then, hopefully, he added, "Are there any more?"
Hook snorted derisively. "Hardly, Mr. Howe. You won't find another like this young woman on Isla Tesoro. She is no mere tart like the lot one might find in Puerto Dorado. This young miss is a one-of-a-kind treasure, lost from her home but procured by Hook on the shores of Neverland."
There he goes speaking of himself in the third person again, thought Mia, making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. But there was also the matter of how he spoke of her. She was a one-of-a-kind treasure, he'd said, and not a mere tart like the ones in Puerto Dorado. These compliments sent her heart to pounding as a girlish sort of pride welled within her.
Hook placed his hand delicately upon the small of her back. "Her name is Mia, Mr. Howe. Mia... This is William Howe, an old friend from my early years of piracy."
"Ah... So ye've captured yerself a Lost Girl, 'ave ye, Cap'n?" asked Billie Howe with a raised eyebrow. Grinning, he bowed once more to Mia. "Me apologies on behalf o' the cap'n kidnappin' yeh, Miss Mia. But ye'll find when it comes to gettin' kidnapped, ye can't have a better captor than Jim Hook. Why, I remember the time we was settin' sail after a week docked here in Puerto Dorado. The girls was linin' up at the docks, cryin' their little hearts out that the cap'n wouldn't hoist 'em over his shoulder and take 'em aboard with 'im. 'Course," he said, scratching a scruffy cheek thoughtfully. "T'wouldn't exactly be kidnappin' if they wanted ta' be taken."
Mia pursed her lips. She didn't know if Mr. Howe was joking or being serious. Either could be possible, considering how the women in this town behaved around Hook. She decided to ignore this commentary and instead inclined her head to Mr. Howe.
"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Howe. I didn't realize Hook had old friends." She cast an antagonistic glance at the captain. "I thought he only had subordinates."
Billie laughed. "Oh, I'm his subordinate, all righ'. Make no mistake on that. I just happen ta be his favorite seadog. If'n I'm well behaved, he might toss me a scrap and rub me belly. If'n I'm bad, though, he gives me a kick. Right, Cap'n?" he said, giving Hook a playful nudge.
Smirking, Hook replied, "Certainly. Just be happy you haven't agitated me to the point of getting you 'fixed.'"
Billie gasped, clapping a hand comically over his groin. "Oh! That's strikin' below the belt, Cap'n!" He turned to Mia and offered her another bow. "Beggin' yer pardon, Miss Mia, but I'd best go find me'self one o' those tarts the cap'n was speakin' so highly of afore – else I may lose me chance to enjoy me'self, should the cap'n get it into 'is head ta be cuttin' off me family jewels." He darted up the terrace and paused beneath the ruined archway that led back to town. "Enjoy yer rendezvous!" Billie called to Hook, pronouncing it 'randy-voo.'
With a salute from Billie, and a dismissive nod from Hook, the young man was gone in search of rest, relaxation, and an able-bodied floozy.
"Okay..." said Mia, crossing her arms and tilting her head in amusement as she watched Billie depart from them. "I was not expecting that."
"Exactly what was it that you weren't expecting, Mia?" Hook asked with that proverbial raised eyebrow.
"You have a BFF. It seems you are human after all," she teased.
Hook furrowed his brow. "B... F... F?" These were letters he'd never heard before. Teenage girls and their arbitrary acronyms. Dismissing it, he said, "Well, of course I'm human, dear girl. Did you truly believe me so heartless as to be incapable of friendship?"
He sounded hurt by this implication, and Mia immediately felt guilty for her teasing commentary. With a scowl, he turned away from her and gazed off after Billie Howe, who was already long on his way towards town.
"Mr. Howe may be a pirate, but he's one of the few I actually consider to be a good man, as well." He returned his gaze to the sprawling, glistening sea. Tucking his arms behind his back, he gained an expression that was altogether wistful and nostalgic. "Billie Howe was a powder monkey on the first ship I ever served on. He showed me the ropes. He showed me how to survive. If it weren't for that man, I might never have been strong enough to last under the influence of the black flag."
A powder monkey, as Mia recalled, was a job reserved for the younger boys or slender, quick-footed young men. It was their duty to run back and forth from the ammunitions room to the deck with gun powder for the cannons during battle. It was a dangerous job, particularly if the gunpowder were to explode while they were carrying it. From the sound of it, Billie Howe had been a low man (or even boy, perhaps, at the time) in the hierarchy of the pirate ship, and yet he'd apparently helped show Hook the ropes.
Mia tried to picture a young James Hook on his first-ever pirate ship, awkward, nervous, and uncertain of himself. It was difficult, but she could almost just imagine it. The look on his face as he reminisced, after all, was the look of a far younger man... almost a boy. It was amazing what the shadow of old memories could do to a person's face.
"We were close crewmates," said Hook, "on our way to becoming good companions. But what truly solidified our bond... was the day I saved his life."
Mia hardly realized that she'd drawn so close to the captain during his story. A storyteller herself, she was a sucker for a good tale. "What happened?" she asked eagerly. "How'd you save his life?"
"There were plans for a mutiny against our captain. Billie Howe, who was loyal through and through, overheard the mutineers discussing their plans. When they discovered him, they attempted to kill him to keep their schemes under wraps. I knew nothing of the mutiny. All I saw was a man trying to kill the only person I considered my friend aboard that ship. I was unarmed, but I had to do something, anything, to stop that scoundrel from killing Billie."
"What did you do?" asked Mia, her voice barely above a whisper as she gazed wide-eyed at the captain.
Hook glanced at Mia with a mischievous grin. "Well, naturally, I grabbed the first thing I saw, which just so happened to be a broken piece of grappling hook which had been discarded in the hold. In a desperate attempt and filled with blind fury, I took my makeshift weapon..." With a faraway but vengeful look on his face, the captain lifted his hook into the air. "And lunged forward, running that rusted iron hook right into the man's guts, ending his miserable, mutinous life... and saving Billie Howe's."
Mia winced. It was gruesome, and yet she certainly could not deny his act of heroism.
"The others were cowards," said Hook, his expression grim as though in his mind's eye he could still see the dying man on the end of his broken hook. "One glare from me, and they ran. The plans for mutiny were quickly discovered by our captain, and the would-be mutineers appropriately punished. I was commended for having prevented the mutiny, and the captain placed greater trust in me going forward. I had earned his respect and a higher position on the crew. And in saving Howe's life, I earned his eternal loyalty, his unwavering friendship, and the very moniker that has stayed with me to this day." He lifted his gleaming hook and smirked at it.
Mia's eyes widened with understanding. "AHA!" she exclaimed. "An age-old mystery solved!"
Hook cocked an eyebrow. "An age-old mystery? You mean why I'm called Hook?"
Grinning, Mia nodded. She seemed to recall discussing it with someone long ago, but she couldn't quite remember who. In her mind, she could hear her own voice, though much younger, asking, 'Is Hook his real name?'
And another voice, familiar but vague, just beyond the reaches of her poor memory, 'Well, honey, I think it's more likely he took on the name after he replaced his hand.'
'But if he was angry that Peter cut off his hand, why would he give himself a new name about it?'
'Good point, sweetie. Maybe it was a nickname he had before Peter cut of his hand.'
'But why?'
'I don't know, honey. I guess that's a mystery.'
"I didn't realize that was such a hot topic of debate," said Hook, looking surprised. "It is merely the nickname Billie bestowed upon me after saving his life. Though I suppose most people assume it's a name I personally adopted when Pan did away with my hand." He gave a derisive snort. "Hardly. It's much, much older than my rivalry with the vile boy."
At the mention of Peter, both Hook and Mia became rather sullen. Wise to this, Hook quickly sought to conclude his story, for never before had Mia hung on his every word like this, and he rather enjoyed it.
"After I parted ways with that crew and struck out on my own, I became captain of my own ship. Then, as fate would have it, I met Billie Howe once more here in Puerto Dorado. That was the day he joined my crew, and henceforth acted as spy and assassin when necessary."
Mia gaped at him, shocked. She almost couldn't believe those words. It was hard to imagine that the goofy young man she'd just met was an assassin. He had seemed so clumsy.
"Our friendship was as strong as it ever was, but in his loyalty, Billie will always act as an example to the crew, reminding them what a subordinate should be like. It is only in private, usually on this island, that we have time to act as the companions we truly are."
Mia frowned. "You and Mr. Howe's friendship, I think it's sweet. But it's also kind of sad... you know, that you can't be yourselves in front of the rest of the crew and that you can only really be friends here." She flicked a small bit of crumbled rock off the railing and watched it plummet over the side. Yet another piece of the tragic puzzle that was Captain James Hook.
Hook kept his gaze out to sea. "It's just as well," he said softly but with a sort of finality to his tone. "A ship's captain can show no weakness, especially not under the black flag. William Howe will always be my good friend, and he knows that. But he also knows that I am his captain. And there are certain expectations that go along with that. Paling around leisurely with my 'chum' is not among them."
"It's not that I don't understand your reasoning," said Mia, and she truly did. It was risky for a pirate captain to show a soft side. If the crew couldn't take him seriously, they might mutiny. "I just think it's a sorry existence to have to live that way." She gazed out to the horizon, her eyes shimmering in the light of the golden afternoon sun. "I wouldn't want to live that way."
Hook found himself temporarily entranced by the way the light shined on her, bringing out the threads of red in her auburn hair. He trailed his fingers through it and smiled wistfully.
"Fortunately for you, my dear, you needn't worry about such things. No one would say a word against the fair maiden at the captain's side. A beautiful woman standing at the right hand of a man of high standing is not a sign of weakness. It would be ignorance to think otherwise. And, of course, very bad form indeed."
"In other words, our relationship is one you'd be happy to boast about," she translated for him with a cynical look. "And I suppose you are all I'll ever need, huh? What about my friends?" Her eyes welled with tears. "But of course, I am never to see them again. Even if you have to hide it, you'll still have your Billie Howe. But I will not have my Kevin Flynn—" She stopped abruptly.
Flynn...
His name had just popped out. When thinking of a dear friend, he was the first who came to her mind, almost effortlessly. How long had it been since she'd thought of him? Suddenly, Mia's chest felt both light and tight at the same time, as though the memory of him brought her joy and sorrow all at once. And yet, when had she last seen him? Just after the parade, wasn't it? But their planned 'date' had never happened. In fact, he'd been nearly impossible to reach. She'd pretty much given up on him by the time Peter kidnapped her outside Tiana's restaurant.
What was Flynn doing right now? Was he thinking of her now, as she was him? Did he even know she'd been taken? Would he even care? It seemed she was destined to be attracted to men who weren't invested in her, or easily forgot her. Flynn and Peter... Why should they bother to remember her? She wasn't anything special. Any fame she might have to her name was only because she was the Dreamfinder's daughter. Perhaps that was all that had appealed to Flynn. And as for Peter... She'd just been a storyteller, like all the others. Just another Wendy. Mia averted her gaze, trying desperately to hide her tears and the true feelings behind each one.
The name Kevin Flynn meant nothing to Hook, only that it was the name of a man... or a boy... and that much was enough to turn him against it. "There is very little I can do about that, Mia," he said tersely. "You are in my company now. As such, I cannot take you to see this Kevin Flynn of yours, no matter how dear of a friend he may be. You know very well that returning you to Cerenopia is not in the cards."
"Yes, so you've said," she said dryly.
Mia turned her back to him, crossing her arms as she gazed out across the vast ocean. This would be the sight her eyes would see day in and day out for – if Hook had his way – a very, very long time. It was beautiful, certainly. But how long before the sight of the ocean lost its splendor and became a source of tedium and ennui? How long before she craved green grass, rolling meadows, mountains, valleys and bustling cities?
Much like the daylight, the mood was beginning to wane. Hook could feel it. The last thing he wanted was for this place to lose its appeal. Perhaps they had overstayed their welcome. After all, the sun was beginning to sink towards the horizon, and even if Hook didn't believe in the superstitious nonsense of his peers, he wasn't sure how he felt about staying in this locale in the dark of night.
"It's getting late," he said. "Perhaps a change of scenery is in order, specifically, a dinner venue. What say you to grabbing a bite and some good spirits at La Cantina, my dear?"
"You mean the establishment overseen by your slutty girlfriend?" She crossed her arms and harrumphed. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'll just return to the ship, if you don't mind, and you can have your little rendezvous without me to cramp your style."
"Slutty girlfriend? Rendezvous? What in the blazes are you on about?" he asked, and to his credit, he did look genuinely confused. But after a moment, an expression of realization appeared on his face. "Ahh... So I was right all along! Jealousy burns strong in you! All over a simpleminded bimbo like Ninette?" He threw his head back and laughed. "You honestly believe you have anything to fear from her?"
Mia's face turned three shades of red. "I told you, I'm not jealous! That would imply that I like you, and I don't! I think you're a... a... a huge jerk!" Yet despite her words, she could not meet his gaze. She kept her head lowered, her cheeks aflame. "I just think it's bad form to constantly be coming onto me and then flirt shamelessly with her. And excuse me if I don't wish to associate with woman of that... caliber. And despite your words, you've obviously slept with that 'simpleminded bimbo.' So pardon me if I don't wanna hang around your ex-booty call!"
She made ready to storm off, but Hook grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "Mia... Is that really how it's going to be? You have the opportunity to claim the most notorious man to ever sail the seas of Dizgaia as your own, and you turn tail and run at the first sign of a challenge? You'd give up so easily when your victory is so assured?"
Mia yanked her arm out of his grasp. "What do you want me to do? Clash swords with her? Defeat her in a battle of wits? Sorry, but I'm not a fighter, and those sophomoric high school days of fighting over a cute boy in class are far behind me."
Hook's grin spread ever wider, and Mia realized her mistake. She'd fallen into his verbal trap. Flushing, she tried to correct her error.
"A-And w-who said anything about a challenge? I never wanted you in the first place! You kidnapped me!"
"Your antics, dear Mia," he said with a wickedly pleased gleam in his eyes, "bring to mind a popular phrase – methinks the girl doth protest too much."
"Look, it doesn't matter," she said through clenched teeth. "I'm just some girl you captured to lure Peter into a trap. The only reason you're keeping me around is because that's, like, in the Bad Guy Manual. Villainy 101. It's what bad guys do. They hold young woman prisoner! So if you want me to go to Ye Olde Harlot's Pub, you're gonna have to drag me kicking and screaming, James Hook!"
Hook's expression grew positively mischievous. "That can be arranged."
He strode towards her.
Mia took a step back. "W-Wait a minute. I didn't mean... I was just—" Her sentence ended in a squeal as he scooped her off her feet and slung her over his shoulder.
"H-Hey! Oh my God! Seriously? I was just kidding! Let me go! Come on!"
She pounded her fists against his back. She kicked her legs. She swore and shouted words that respectable young women should never say. She carried on in this fashion as Hook literally carried her through the town, past the Mercado, all the way to La Cantina. But by the time they arrived, Mia was giggling and Hook was laughing along with her.
~~~
Hook set her on her feet in front of the batwing doors of the pub, but he did not fully release her. With his arm looped about her waist, he pulled her to him. Mia went without protest, still giggling as she had yet to recover from her pretend 'kidnapping' through the streets of Puerto Dorado.
"Having fun, were you?" he asked, fixing her with a roughish smile. Oh, be still her heart! "Perhaps you'll start enjoying yourself a little more now, hmm?"
Mia feigned a contemplative expression. "Hmm. Maybe I will... or maybe I won't... Just to spite you." She allowed her lips to brush ever so gently against his as she spoke these last few words, but she granted him no more than that.
"Mia," he murmured huskily. But before he could close the gap between them, she reached up and tugged the brim of his hat down over his eyes.
"H-Hey! Why you..." he lifted his hat to see her, laughing, turn and head for the doors. His eyes moved to her hips, sashaying delightfully, as though she owned the place. Another grin spread across his face, but just before Mia could go through the doors, Hook grabbed her and yanked her back. "Look out," he warned.
At that moment, an inebriated pirate was thrown through the doors and out onto the street where Mia had been standing just moments ago. Mia gaped at the man as he struggled to his feet and gave the front façade of the pub a rude hand gesture before staggering drunkenly away.
"Hmm. Seems a rough crowd today," mused Hook. "Shall we?"
He led the way through La Cantina's doors and ducked just in time to avoid a flying dish, which smashed into the wall behind him, spraying fragments across the floor. The pub was in near chaos. There was music, singing, laughing, cursing, and sporadic fist-fights breaking out across tables. The place was filled to the brim with smells of good food, better spirits, sea salt, sweat, and... perhaps a few scents worth ignoring. This was La Cantina.
As Mia took it in with an uneasy fascination, Hook wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to his side. "Best you keep close to me in this particular crowd, dear."
"My, how terribly convenient for you."
They managed to push safely through the rowdy pub and wrangle a table at the back were things were a little calmer. Hook pulled Mia into the seat next to him, keeping her close. At the moment, though, considering their current environment, Mia didn't mind.
"Real classy establishment, Captain," she remarked. "Do you take all the girls here or am I just special?"
Hook smirked and arched an eyebrow. "Well now, Someone's feeling quite a bit more sociable all of a sudden."
"Sociable or sarcastic?" she asked with an arched eyebrow of her own. "I would have thought for certain you'd recognize the difference, Captain," she said lightly, as the hint of a smile played across her lips.
Laughing good humoredly, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and leaned back in his seat. "Truth be told, this is about the only place to get a decent meal in Puerto Dorado." He turned his face towards her and pressed his lips to her ear. "As for whether or not you're special..." By way of answer, he nibbled lightly on her ear.
Mia squealed and pushed him away. "S-Seriously?" she asked, rubbing her ear and blushing fiercely. "Haven't you had enough? You're driving me crazy!"
"Oh, dear Mia," he chuckled, "I've barely begun." His hot breath poured over her ear as he whispered lustily to her. "You'll find, my dear, that I'm quite insatiable." He trailed his lips down the side of her neck, whispering between kisses. "I love this new ensemble."
"Yeah, I bet you do," said Mia, pushing him off her with a grunt. "Knock it off. We're in public."
With a sigh, Hook relinquished. "Perhaps you're right. Showing off is bad form, after all. We wouldn't want to make the other patrons jealous. Later, perhaps."
"I never said later either!"
A busty barmaid approached their table and curtseyed to Hook, batting her eyelashes as she asked what she could get them. Before Hook could place his order, Ninette spotted them from across the pub and ran to their table, shoving the barmaid away with a thrust of her hip, somehow accomplishing this without spilling a single drop out of either of the two foaming mugs she was holding.
"James!" she squealed excitedly. "You came after all! Oh, I am so very pleased! Here." She set a mug in front of him and smiled winsomely. "Don't think for one second I've forgotten what you like."
She gave him a flirtatious wink before turning her gaze to Mia as though it took excruciating effort to do so. Mia could almost hear the cogs squealing in the woman's neck as she did so.
"And would your... young charge, was it? Would she like anything?"
Mia glared at her. "I'm not his young charge," she growled.
Ninette's saccharine smile never wavered. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry. My apologies, Miss. What, exactly, are you then?" she asked with a challenging smirk. "A Lost Girl, perhaps?" Her gaze flicked to Hook, amusement in her eyes.
"I wish you'd get lost," said Mia through clenched teeth.
"I'm sorry? I didn't catch that," said Ninette.
"I said that I suppose I don't rightly know," said Mia stiffly. "Perhaps dear James can enlighten us both." She turned her gaze to Hook. "What exactly am I... James?" she cooed with mock sweetness.
With a roguish grin, Hook replied, "I'm afraid I must admit to not being entirely forthcoming, Ninette. This vivacious young woman is not merely my charge. You see..." He took Mia's chin in his hand and pulled her face close to his. His eyes were for her and only her. "Her name is Mia... and she is the lover of Captain James Hook."
Mia's temperature must have shot ten degrees. Her face was on fire. For him to make such a bold claim... and in front of Ninette, no less! Still, Mia sought to keep her head in this game. She refused to allow Hook to take advantage of the situation just because Ninette was challenging her.
"What is it about first-person pronouns you don't like?" Mia asked him, her eyes narrowed and her lips brushing unintentionally against his.
"I suppose I simply enjoy vexing you, my dear. Besides, there is a personal pronoun that I am rather fond of. In fact... it's my favorite."
"Oh yeah? And what's that?"
"Mine."
Without further ado, Hook closed the gap and pressed his lips firmly against Mia's, brazenly kissing her right there in front of Ninette.
Mia's eyes were wide as she was caught off guard by this unexpected display. She'd been bullied by girls like Ninette before – popular girls who were used to getting their way because they were pretty, who enjoyed putting down girls they viewed as inferior to them. The idea that such a girl was now being snubbed by Hook, and the fact that he chose her, Mia, over the buxom Ninette and willingly put this choice on display in so public a manner had Mia swimming in a sea of euphoria. So much for not allowing him to take advantage of the situation.
Finally, Hook withdrew his lips and allowed his gaze to flick carelessly to Ninette. "Food and drink, Ninette," he said breathlessly. "Quickly now, or I might be forced to dine upon my delicious companion here."
Mia flushed, scandalized by his salacious words. Breathless and bewildered, she watched as Ninette stalked off furiously. Mia couldn't believe what just happened. She'd never been the other girl before. She almost felt bad for Ninette. As both her breath and her senses returned, Mia glared at Hook.
"That wasn't fair! You took advantage of my jealousy!"
"Oh?" said Hook, lifting his eyebrows and cupping a hand behind his ear with a triumphant grin. "What was that last word, Mia?"
"W-What?" she stammered, realizing her blunder. "I... I didn't mean—"
"You said jealousy."
"That's your word, not mine," she reminded him angrily.
"And yet you used it."
"I only borrowed it!"
"Mmm... In that case, allow me to borrow your lips." He snagged his hook on her corset and yanked her towards him, ready to indulge in another passionate kiss. But his intentions never came to fruition as a loud, awkward clomping sound came across the wooden floor of La Cantina, the sound drawing closer and closer to their table.
Hook's expression changed from a lusting, roguish leer to a colorless look, as though he'd just seen a ghost. The clomping came to a halt just beside their table and a gruff voice rose up behind them.
"Aye... That was a rather heated display, if I do be sayin' so m'self! Fact... I ain't too sure I've seen its equal in this place. Much face-suckin' and snoggin' t'be sure... but not the kinda passion you be showin' off. Tis a refreshin' sight."
"No..." said Hook. "It can't be. Not you!"
He spun around to face their visitor – a hefty, grizzled old seadog with a broad face that was partly pleasant, partly mutinous. The graying old pirate favored a wooden crutch, as he was clearly missing his left leg.
"Aye, Jim-Boy," said the pirate, displaying a grin full of gleaming, crooked teeth. "Long John Silver... at yer service."