A Nightime Visit
Apr. 9th, 2006 08:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scripsiTitle: A Nighttime Visit
Pairing: Hook/Wendy
Rating: Mild R
A/N: Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
japanpeterpan for beta.
Positively fluffy. For being by me.
When Wendy Darling grew up, she got married. She stood bride in a white gown with a pink sash, and then she and her young husband moved into the house she had grown up in- the widowed Mr. Darling felt it was too big for him now. Wendy spent some pleasant months re-decorating it, and the old nursery was what she spent the most care on. For she was very much in love with her husband, and they both looked forward to a time when the house would be full of children. But one year went without any, then a second and a third. Wendy joked that she would have to be a very devoted aunt to her brothers' children, but inside she grieved.
She grew more and more restless, and whenever her husband travelled she hardly slept at all, spending her nights before the fireplace in the salon. Sometimes she read, but mostly she stared into the fading embers and let her mind wander. Eventually she would doze off, so when she one night saw Captain Hook sitting in the armchair opposite her, she didn't feel surprised at all. He had often visited her in her dreams, and even now she flushed a little, because most of those dreams had had very little to do with how a lady should behave.
She smiled a little and said conversationally: “I thought you died.”
He made a zig-zag motion with his right arm, the shining hook glinting in the firelight. “It's much easier to cut a crocodile open from the inside than the outside. I didn't stay dead for long, but I needed some time to recuperate.”
“Oh. But how did you get here?”
Hook leaned back and stretched out his legs comfortably. “I can leave Neverland at times- it's only a bit infrequent. And also for very short periods, just for as long as I stay awake, and however hard I grasp things, nothing will follow me back. I have no doubts that I will wake up in my cabin tomorrow, just as if this was only a dream.”
Wendy frowned. “It is a dream,” she said, but Hook only raised an eyebrow.
“How do you know? Anyway, I'm very glad to see you so alive and blossoming.” He looked at her wedding band. “But why does your husband allow you to sit up? If I were in his position I would want you in the bed with me.”
“He's not at home.”
“How very fortunate.”
Wendy felt a bit more flustered, as Hook looked her over appraisingly. He was, she noticed, rather less overdressed, the black shirt and breeches were unadorned, and the likewise black waistcoat had
merely a faint glitter of silvery embroidery. She rather thought it suited him.
“You know,” Hook continued, “I always had something of a soft spot for you. If things had turned out differently I would have kept you for myself.”
There was no mistaking what he meant. Wendy had grown up after all, and she gasped. “But I was just a child!”
“Not so much a child, I think. Anyway, it's too late now. You can't go to Neverland again, and I will have to return soon.”
His eyes glittered as he smiled. “I will have to make do with the brief time I have.”
A deep unease made Wendy stand up, but when she did, Hook stood up as well. He still towered over her, and in that instant Wendy knew that she was awake. He was really standing here, in her room, and she became afraid. Before he had time to react she bolted, and ran out into the hall before he could stop her. But when she tried to reach the door to the servants' quarters he managed to block her, and she was forced to run up the stairs instead. There he caught her, and she tumbled forward on the steps with the man over her. Kneeling, she opened her mouth to scream, but before she could
utter a sound the hook pressed into the tender flesh under her chin.
“One sound and I slash every throat in this house. Understand?”
Wendy swallowed, feverishly thinking of a way to elude the Captain, and coming up with nothing. “Yes,” she managed, and the hook disappeared. Instead she could feel his hand run over her body, and then in under her clothes, seeking the sensitive flesh between her legs.
“Do it then, so it will be over.”
To her shame his fingers found her willing and she she suddenly started to cry. She couldn't remember feeling so helpless before in Hook's hands, perhaps the added years had made her aware of how dangerous he was, in a way she hadn't understood when she was younger.
But Hook didn't, instead he pulled her up to her feet and half carried, half led her up the stair. Wendy followed without a struggle. He found her bedchamber and sat her down on her bed before he kneeled in front of her.
“Sch, sch, darling. No need to cry so.” Carefully he dabbed her face with his handkerchief, and Wendy slowly ceased to cry. “No tears, please. Won't you make a lovely memory for a truly lonely man? You liked me a little then, didn't you? I'll be gone in the morning, as gone as a dream, I told you so. You'll never see me again. No one will ever know. No one would ever believe you, so why not give in?”
Wendy looked at him. She had dreamt this, many times. Deep inside she had wished for it, but never even dared to think it through. Now she slowly touched his face, then his lips, before she leaned forward and kissed him.
He was gone in the morning, just as he had said. Wendy wandered through her house trying to find any trace of him, but found nothing. The only clue that he had visited was that the window in the nursery was open.
And whatever conclusion that could be drawn when little Jane was born nine months later- well, Wendy refused to draw any.
Pairing: Hook/Wendy
Rating: Mild R
A/N: Thanks to
japanpeterpan for beta.Positively fluffy. For being by me.
When Wendy Darling grew up, she got married. She stood bride in a white gown with a pink sash, and then she and her young husband moved into the house she had grown up in- the widowed Mr. Darling felt it was too big for him now. Wendy spent some pleasant months re-decorating it, and the old nursery was what she spent the most care on. For she was very much in love with her husband, and they both looked forward to a time when the house would be full of children. But one year went without any, then a second and a third. Wendy joked that she would have to be a very devoted aunt to her brothers' children, but inside she grieved.
She grew more and more restless, and whenever her husband travelled she hardly slept at all, spending her nights before the fireplace in the salon. Sometimes she read, but mostly she stared into the fading embers and let her mind wander. Eventually she would doze off, so when she one night saw Captain Hook sitting in the armchair opposite her, she didn't feel surprised at all. He had often visited her in her dreams, and even now she flushed a little, because most of those dreams had had very little to do with how a lady should behave.
She smiled a little and said conversationally: “I thought you died.”
He made a zig-zag motion with his right arm, the shining hook glinting in the firelight. “It's much easier to cut a crocodile open from the inside than the outside. I didn't stay dead for long, but I needed some time to recuperate.”
“Oh. But how did you get here?”
Hook leaned back and stretched out his legs comfortably. “I can leave Neverland at times- it's only a bit infrequent. And also for very short periods, just for as long as I stay awake, and however hard I grasp things, nothing will follow me back. I have no doubts that I will wake up in my cabin tomorrow, just as if this was only a dream.”
Wendy frowned. “It is a dream,” she said, but Hook only raised an eyebrow.
“How do you know? Anyway, I'm very glad to see you so alive and blossoming.” He looked at her wedding band. “But why does your husband allow you to sit up? If I were in his position I would want you in the bed with me.”
“He's not at home.”
“How very fortunate.”
Wendy felt a bit more flustered, as Hook looked her over appraisingly. He was, she noticed, rather less overdressed, the black shirt and breeches were unadorned, and the likewise black waistcoat had
merely a faint glitter of silvery embroidery. She rather thought it suited him.
“You know,” Hook continued, “I always had something of a soft spot for you. If things had turned out differently I would have kept you for myself.”
There was no mistaking what he meant. Wendy had grown up after all, and she gasped. “But I was just a child!”
“Not so much a child, I think. Anyway, it's too late now. You can't go to Neverland again, and I will have to return soon.”
His eyes glittered as he smiled. “I will have to make do with the brief time I have.”
A deep unease made Wendy stand up, but when she did, Hook stood up as well. He still towered over her, and in that instant Wendy knew that she was awake. He was really standing here, in her room, and she became afraid. Before he had time to react she bolted, and ran out into the hall before he could stop her. But when she tried to reach the door to the servants' quarters he managed to block her, and she was forced to run up the stairs instead. There he caught her, and she tumbled forward on the steps with the man over her. Kneeling, she opened her mouth to scream, but before she could
utter a sound the hook pressed into the tender flesh under her chin.
“One sound and I slash every throat in this house. Understand?”
Wendy swallowed, feverishly thinking of a way to elude the Captain, and coming up with nothing. “Yes,” she managed, and the hook disappeared. Instead she could feel his hand run over her body, and then in under her clothes, seeking the sensitive flesh between her legs.
“Do it then, so it will be over.”
To her shame his fingers found her willing and she she suddenly started to cry. She couldn't remember feeling so helpless before in Hook's hands, perhaps the added years had made her aware of how dangerous he was, in a way she hadn't understood when she was younger.
But Hook didn't, instead he pulled her up to her feet and half carried, half led her up the stair. Wendy followed without a struggle. He found her bedchamber and sat her down on her bed before he kneeled in front of her.
“Sch, sch, darling. No need to cry so.” Carefully he dabbed her face with his handkerchief, and Wendy slowly ceased to cry. “No tears, please. Won't you make a lovely memory for a truly lonely man? You liked me a little then, didn't you? I'll be gone in the morning, as gone as a dream, I told you so. You'll never see me again. No one will ever know. No one would ever believe you, so why not give in?”
Wendy looked at him. She had dreamt this, many times. Deep inside she had wished for it, but never even dared to think it through. Now she slowly touched his face, then his lips, before she leaned forward and kissed him.
He was gone in the morning, just as he had said. Wendy wandered through her house trying to find any trace of him, but found nothing. The only clue that he had visited was that the window in the nursery was open.
And whatever conclusion that could be drawn when little Jane was born nine months later- well, Wendy refused to draw any.
