Dizgaia ~ The Dreamfinder's Daughter

Chapter 29 ~ Aboard the Jolly Roger

Captain Hook's predatory advances had gone no further that day. Mia was spared his lustful encroachments by a timely interruption by Mr. Smee, who burst into the cabin, apologizing for interrupting their 'canoodling,' but that the captain was needed on deck. Hook had stormed out in a rage, locking Mia in his cabin. Mia didn't know what sort of business the captain was up to on deck, but she often heard his angry shouts and his hurled insults as he spouted orders to the crew.

Mia was alone in the cabin for the better part of the day. Left to her own devices, her mind was a playground for cruel doubts. Would Peter really come for her? And would he rescue her or die trying? Would Captain Hook's trap work? And most importantly, would she be able to resist the handsome but wicked pirate's advances?

In her loneliness, fear, and helplessness, there was but one thing she could do for catharsis. Mia took out her pencils and sketchbook and worked diligently at Hook's map table. Mia wished she had the conscious ability of creation like her biological father. Then she'd create herself some sort of deus ex machina to escape this otherwise hopeless situation. But it was one thing to magically create a new dress in your subconscious while you slept, and quite another to consciously materialize something you desperately needed out of thin air the moment you needed it.

Eventually, even drawing proved itself too weak of a task to suspend her worries and fears, and she resorted to the one thing that pirates most often indulged in - spirits. She poured herself another generous serving of Hook's bubbly. It was dry and awful, and not at all to her taste. Furthermore, it was risky to place herself under its influence, especially considering her predicament, but she wanted desperately to numb her emotions. If she was lucky, perhaps just as she drowned her sorrows in the drink, it, in turn, would drown her in sleep.

After a fruitful but exhausting day, Hook returned to his cabin. There, he found his lovely captive fast asleep on the chaise lounge with her arm slung over the side, her fingers brushing the floor, where just inches away lay an empty champagne glass. His bottle of bubbly was nearly empty. No doubt this was the refuge she sought from her sorrows and fears, the only escape afforded to her - the escape of a chemically-induced sleep.

With a disapproving shake of his head, he poured the rest of the bubbly for himself and drank it as he sat at his charting table and updated his captain's log with a feathered quill dipped in ink. There were many things the captain prided himself in, one of which was his excellent penmanship. Years of practice with what was once his non-dominant hand had honed his skills with both sword and pen far beyond reproach.

When he was finished, he closed his book and stretched. He doffed his outer vestments and readied himself for bed. But first, he tucked a spare pillow beneath the girl's head and draped a blanket over her. For him, his satin sheets would have to do. After all, the lady's comfort must come before his own. Let his enemies say what they would about him; James Hook was a gentleman through and through.

~~~

The next three days of Mia's life were spent aboard the Jolly Roger. For a prisoner, she was well treated. It was not so unlike Hook had told her in his cabin the first day; she was his guest and could be made comfortable. She was given a new dress, one not fabricated by her subconscious mind, as it seemed her separation from Neverland had ended that streak of 'dreamfinding' ability. Instead, it was the captain who presented her with a beautiful satin gown in the Victorian style. It was a deep blue, like the ocean, with black trim, and no doubt suited his fancy. It was not to Mia's liking, but she figured it would be more prudent to accept the gift than to reject it, as inciting Hook's wrath was not a wise decision.

For all his gloating and teasing Mia her first day aboard, Hook was now the perfect gentleman and exhibited impressive restraint. Mia began to suspect that much of his behavior on deck the day of her kidnapping had been nothing more than male posturing for his crew, for now he gave strict orders in how his men were to conduct themselves around her. Mia was free to walk about the ship as she pleased, and any pirate who did anything but doff his cap and bow to her saying, "Miss," was either flogged or run through for bad form, depending on the captain's mood, which seemed only to grow fouler with each passing day.