A Neverland Tale - HOOKED (eng)

Chapter 2.7 - Fiona

A horrible fear suddenly squeezed all air out of her lungs and turned Fiona's veins to ice. As if small splinters were piercing her skin, pain cramped into her exhausted limbs and paralyzed her. Only stiffly and clumsily did she make it to her feet on the second attempt, as the shadows began to move and Fiona realized that she had been surrounded without really noticing.

Comments flew back and forth around her, words that took her far too long to grasp their meaning. Once again she took a step back, stepping on the hem of the dress and faltering until a strong hand closed around her arm. Someone jerked her upward into a standing position. Fiona stumbled with the movement, managing to stay on her feet but unable to suppress the trembling.

Around her moved five, maybe six, or more... Men. Without exception, they were men. They wore clothes that were already tattered, holey, or dirty in many places. That was all she could make out in the darkness, and it wasn't enough to give her an idea of who these guys were. Fiona swallowed, stammering, trying to fight back and somehow escape the firm grip, but she couldn't. Instead, there were rough hands, the hands of the men. Instead, rough hands were digging under her dress and pulling the fabric higher. The guy reached for her like a piece of meat and at the obviousness with which he touched her, Fiona's features slipped.

Get your dirty hands off me!

She tried to say it, but fear constricted her throat and paralyzed every muscle. In the rising panic, she tried to slap the hand away, to free herself... But... he was not only a good head taller, but probably three times as strong as Fiona. A strangled sob caught in her throat as she tried more and more desperately to break free.

And then she was free. A warm hand gripped around her waist, the disgusting fingers retreating so suddenly that it could have been mistaken for a bad dream. Metal scraped over leather, a blade was drawn. Whether the weapons were turned on her again, Fiona could not say for sure for a moment. But eventually, she realized that the saber belonged to the shadow in front of her. He had pushed her behind him, standing as the only protection between the young woman and the other guys. Fiona struggled not to sink to the ground again, forcing her concentration on what was happening in front of her. The men were talking about a captain, the same voice that had awakened her, to be exact. He sounded calmer than before, resolute. Perhaps it was the leader of this band of savages?

There was a captain on a ship and ships usually on the sea. Briefly, her gaze slid to the silvery waves above which a ghostly mist danced. Of course, there had to be ships - but where? And did she want to be on board? If the crew consisted only of such dogs? She didn't want to stay here and freeze to death either, though, and maybe they could tell her where she was...what had happened. The list of things Fiona needed to know was endless, as more and more little things escaped her mind the longer she thought about them.

Discontent could be clearly heard from the exchange of words. Of course. These guys wanted their fun if she had understood correctly - and no woman who was still quite sane or not paid for it would have voluntarily amused them. Fiona tried to turn, to make out something in the black night, and yet there was nothing but shining waves. Her gaze slid back to the man who had saved her... for the moment. more or less, anyway. For a brief moment he regarded her, then strong arms slid under her body. A soft cry escaped her under the sudden movement and Fiona jerked back, startled, but by then he had lifted her.

As the ground slipped from under her feet, she instinctively clawed at the guy for fear he might abruptly drop her after all. After her position had stabilized a bit, she dared to turn her head in his direction. With the sudden closeness, she could see something more than shadows and blackness. Dark hair, a short beard... lightly tanned skin, but the veil of night and mist would not reveal more. A strange scent wafted towards her, salt water, wind... Leather and herbs. Unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. Hesitantly, she managed to wrap her arms around his neck and nestle a little closer to his muscular torso. Where her skin met him, she could at least warm up a little. 

The wind whispered over them, driving the mist further across the water and sending one cold shiver after another down Fiona's spine. She shivered slightly, whether from cold or fear she could not even say for sure. The unexpected closeness gave her a bit of security, something familiar that she didn't know where it came from or if someone had ever carried her in his arms before... but the feeling was there, like a newly hatched butterfly. Fragile and fragile. Questioningly, she raised her eyes to him again and her slender brows drew together slightly. So he would get into trouble? If she fell? For a moment she wondered if she was that important... but no sooner had she asked it in her mind than she discarded the potential answers. None of them appealed to her.

"Can you speak?" he asked quietly as his boots sank almost silently into the sand. "What's your name?"

Fiona started to speak, hesitated for a brief moment, and cleared her throat softly. "Yes." finally came the uncertain reply. It sounded hoarse, a little rough as if she had been silent for a long time and was using her vocal cords for the first time in a long time. Or simply exhaustion? Her throat still burned from the salt water, all the coughing, and the feeling of air in her lungs was a relief despite the anxiety.

But... what should she tell him? Which question could she answer and which not? Which question did she even want to ask? The headache set in again, pressing against her temples from the inside, forcing her to keep her concentration to a minimum.

What's your name?

At least he took the decision away from her and asked something... Easy. Though her own name was on the tip of her tongue, she still needed a moment again. Thick lashes blinked against confusion as she pondered whether there should be more to it than just one word. As hard as she tried, it didn't come. 

"My name is... Fiona," she murmured, suppressing the tremor. Unblinking, her eyes followed his watchful gaze as it slid over the mist-washed waves. Through the pale moonlight, they looked like veils someone had carelessly thrown over a clothesline and left there. They fluttered delicately and silkily in the wind, hiding as many secrets behind them as the sky above them. A dark sky full of stars. In another situation, Fiona might have taken the time to enjoy the breathtaking sight.

Thousands and thousands of twinkling lights glimmered above them, silent and unapproachably distant. But... so her gaze fluttered searchingly from the man to the darkness behind them and the looming silence of a ghostly calm sea. There were so many questions, so much that wanted to break through and spill over her in an unbearable confusion. Fiona felt like a small pebble, pressed to the ground by the rolling masses of an entire ocean of questions. "What are your names? And where am I being taken? Where are we, anyway?"