Captain's Captive

The Jolly Roger Sails

The sea rolled beneath the ship, lapping at the dark wooden beams as the wind filled the blood red sails and swelled them to capacity. The ship's main deck was alive with movement, sailors bustling about with their tasks as their captain overlooked from the helm, his arm draped lazily over the wheel.

Captain Hendry Oliver Orion Killroy, Hook for short, was quite content watching his men at work. The sea-breeze whipped his dark hair as he pulled a golden spyglass from the inside pocket of his crimson frock coat. His black, well kept mustache twitched with amusement as a smirk crossed his features.

Ahead lay Neverland, plain as day. And the tales that had reached him had been truthful after all. It seemed Pan had found himself a new plaything; this one coming in the form of a slender blonde wrapped in a blue nightgown. She stood hesitantly along the shore, watching like a mother hen as some of the younger Lost Boys played in the surf.

He was certain the ship had been spotted by now, the Jolly Roger's bloody sails stood out against the horizon like an ink stain on a new linen shirt. Hook, however, seemed unconcerned. His attention was focused solely on the task at hand. They would sail around the island, waiting for the cloak of darkness to fall, when the little devil would be asleep. Then his men would make their way to shore.

He watched as the young woman looked up, seeming to stare for a long moment before gesturing for the boys to come to her. Ushering them back to the safety of the treeline, the blonde turned to cast a last glance in his direction before following behind them and vanishing from sight.

"Smee!" He bellowed from the helm, his booming voice ringing out over the commotion below. A portly man, much too round for his own good, quickly appeared from amid the organized chaos below.

"Aye, Captain?"

"Take the helm." He ordered, stepping away as his first mate scurried up the wooden steps to the quarterdeck before seizing the massive wheel.

"Aye, Captain." Smee, although old enough to be his father, had been a loyal and obedient sailor for years. Hook would never say it aloud, but he owed the man a deep debt of gratitude.

With a nod the Captain turned for his own quarters, the tail of his crimson frock floating behind him as he entered the cabin and secured the door. With a grunt, he shrugged off his coat and twisted off the steel hook that sat in place of what should have been his left hand. Removing the prosthesis,  he rubbed the stump of his missing hand absently as he settled into the high-backed chair behind his desk.

In that moment, he felt very much older than his twenty-eight years; the weight of the past decade settling heavily on his shoulders, much like his silky black hair. Chocolate eyes gazed at the hand-drawn map of Neverland sprawled across his desk as he let out a weary sigh.

"That bloody brat won't escape me this time." He grumbled to himself, removing a glass and bottle of rum from the top drawer of the oak desk before pouring himself a drink. He rubbed the side of the glass absently with his thumb, losing himself to his memories.

A dark-haired lad with amber eyes laughed in his mind

After all that Pan had taken from him, Hook would be damned if that devil would escape this time. His plan would succeed, and the girl would help him see to it.

With an air of finality he downed the rest of his glass and crossed the room to his bed, the liquor helping him settle into a restful slumber.