Chapter 1: Hook
Chapter song: Broken Mast Bay—Sail North
═༺ ☾ ⚓ ☽ ༻═
~ 𓆝 ~
The wind toyed with his hair. It rivaled the depth of a starless sea. Eric wrapped the rope around his waist and knotted it. "Is Tink here?"
Smee shook his head, the ridiculous cap wobbling with the motion.
"How many?"
He hated that question. He still asked it every time.
The two-faced, murderous lesser fae had collected too many children over the last century.
It did not matter how many Eric returned to their beds. It was never enough. Not when she had the pied piper to do her bidding.
And his fleet did not always arrive in time. If she had a chance to dust them, it was over.
Smee swapped the attachment on his wrist for a hook. "Fifteen, sir."
"Kraken's nuts! What did she do, raid an orphanage?"
Smee sighed and adjusted the loose black silk shirt and tightened Eric's thick, fitted Cabernet red jacket. "Wouldn't be the first time, sir."
Eric groaned.
The three-masted ship towered above them.
He shoved a knife between his teeth, tested the knot around his waist, and started to climb.
The ship creaked beneath the steady rhythm of the waves. Above, a waxing moon cast a carpet of silver light across the sea all the way to the horizon.
He braced himself against the first porthole and peeked inside.
The "boys," as Tink referred to her stolen gang, were drunk on dusted beverages.
Peter lounged in the corner. His green tunic parted. His tights were thrown over the arm of his cushioned throne. His stupid grin had remained in place like a crown that he would never deserve.
Crowns meant nothing in Neverland. Not anymore.
The woman perched in his lap, the assassin known as his Shadow, had skin as dark as midnight and hair that rivaled fresh squid ink. Her raven's wings spread wide as she moved up and down on her jester's lap.
Peter's Shadow had more than her hands full.
Eric smirked.
Good.
They were busy.
Peter's eyes rolled back, and a deep groan escaped him as she settled lower and rolled her hips.
Very busy.
Eric turned his attention to a table on the far end of the captain's chambers. One of the boys, wearing animal skin as a hat, snorted a line of sparkling gold dust.
The intensely addictive powder that was the cornerstone of Tink's empire.
His laughter immediately became distorted and inhuman. He levitated three feet off the deck and began dancing to music that did not belong to the room.
Two sirens lounged nearby, singing sweetly with smiles that hid teeth sharper than a great white's.
Peter Pan's musical guard dogs.
Eric lingered long enough to count the threats.
Peter, Tink's pied piper, was a loud-mouthed nuisance. He was charismatic, a spiritual charlatan, and had a special talent for luring lono children from their beds.
There was a time where his swordsmanship was renowned among realms, but now he was almost always too high on the dust to be a worthy combatant.
He was not the threat, for the same reason neither were his boys.
It was that Shadow that was impossible to track until it was too late. Whose aim never missed. She was as invisible as Hook.
The Shadow to his light. A wielder and assassin whose reputation was more feared than his. Pan basked in her reputation, and she worshipped him for his charisma and the power he represented.
Some would say The Shadow deserved better than Peter.
Eric was not some.
She deserved worse.
Eric waited for the habit. The move that always provided him with the precise misdirection he needed.
Peter's hand gripped tight to the firm, round backside of his Shadow as she threw her head back and moaned.
Eric's lips wrapped around the blowgun and fired the dart between his fingers. The needle that sank deep into her flesh was filled with siren's thistle. She would be occupied for a while.
He lingered long enough to hear the sound of her desire change to hunger and need, and Peter to answer in kind.
Peter should thank him, really. He was likely responsible for many of his very busy evenings.
Eric wrapped the rope around the hook, tested the strap at his waist, then kicked off. His body flew through the air as he listened for a specific sound that haunted Tink's fleet.
The sound of almost silent sobbing.
Except when he heard it, the sound had not come from the ship.
He braced against the hull and checked the horizon.
He caught a glimpse of the familiar green fluke as it retreated into the deep beneath the sparkling runway laid out by the moon.
He had seen her before.
Never for long.
She had become a good luck charm of sorts.
He saluted the footprint the Moon-fire mermaid, had left on the surface. Then he refocused.
Fifteen children needed to go home.
Eric cupped his hand to his ear, then launched through the night to the back of the ship. When no sound came, he had his answer.
They had hidden them below decks. He was sure of it.
The light distorted around him. His royal heritage. A Summer Court gift of illusion, now weaponized.
Unless someone looked for just long enough, he was no more than a mirage. A piece of the ship or the sea that just seemed slightly out of tune.
No one had ever survived long enough to realize the fallen prince wore light itself as a disguise.
His knife was clutched in his good hand as the hook picked through the galley locks, and he slipped deeper into the hull.
A/N
Be honest...
Are you Hooked? 🪝
I have two active projects and limited writing time.
If Captain Hook, a drug-lord Tinker Bell, and a suspiciously important mermaid have your attention, let me know with a vote, comment, or reading list add.
That will tell me whether this idea has sea legs. ⚓
