An unfinished piece that I'm not 100% sure I'm gonna finish. This is what I was talking about when I mentioned a while back about an angsty Hook siblings piece. This is from Harriet's story for the most part. I still liked what I wrote down so here's what I had for it.
Maybe some day I'll come back to this.
The entirety of Harriet's childhood could be watered down to one singular name.
Peter Pan
That name sprung a lot of very mixed feelings if you had to ask Harriet her true opinion of her father's 'arch nemesis' as he supposedly would reason he was. Somedays, the name sparked an unbearable, seething hatred that had her throw one bottle to the wall to vent out her frustration on something.
Other days, it made her feel... small. Confused. Perhaps a little warm.
Truly, she had extremely messy feelings regarding Pan.
And she completely blamed her parents for that.
Xxx
The first time she had ever heard of Peter Pan was ironically, not from either of her parents. Rather, it was something she learnt when hearing other Islanders talk about her father.
That night when she brought up the name, her father's glass shattered in his hand from the rage he felt just having the name uttered in his presence. It wasn't the first time her father had flown off the handle with his temper, but it was the first time her mother had actually gotten him to shut up.
Speaking of her mother.
Her mother was an interesting case indeed. Harriet never learnt her story to it's completion. Her father never told her, and no one else truly knew. All Harriet knew was that her mother was an accomplice of Hook once, regretted it but still punished for it.
(In that case, why isn't Tinkerbell on the Isle then, Harriet thought bitterly)
Compared to her father, her mother's reaction to Pan was much more... softer... fonder... sadder.
She didn't like how sad her mother looked when she thought of Peter Pan.
And since that faithful question, an unspoken rule was cast on not only the Hook household, but on the families of everyone remotely connected to the Jolly Roger and Neverland itself.
No one talk about Peter Pan.
XXX
Despite the rule being in place, it didn't stop the off-handed mentions of Peter, or as Harriet will learn his other names 'Pan' 'The Brat' 'King of the Fairies' (though Mother told her this was inaccurate. The fairies had no king and Pan would be their last choice) 'The Guardian' or as her father simply calls him 'The Boy'.
Her father was the biggest culprit of all these mentions.
And in all instances, it mainly had to do with what habits Harriet had that would simply remind Hook of 'The Boy'. And it was this way Harriet learned small little tidbits and factoids about Pan and the things they shared.
How she'd twirl around the ropes. How she landed gracefully from the tips of her feet after jumping from a high place. Their pride.
All of these things reminded her father of the boy. And she could see just how much it irritated him.
XXX
Her mother was pregnant and Harriet was all sorts of excited. Her ears rose up in happiness as she bounced around her pregnant mother, who laughed at her antics.
One yell from her father though and that all stopped. That did not mean Harriet's excitement was deterred all that much, however.
She was busy with a gift for the baby when she heard her mother chuckle.
"You look so much like him"
"Like who, ma?", Harriet asked curiously, though she felt she knew the answer already.
"Him", was all her mother had to say and Harriet's answer was confirmed.
Her father reentered the room and they didn't talk about it any further.
XXX
The birth of Harrison Garrett (named after some old man named Gary that her mother knew) Hook was a tremendous affair that had her father smiling for a whole day (a brand new record in her book, her father was usually frowning)
Her mother looked exhausted as Harriet watched her with interest as her father doted on Harrison (creatively dubbed as Harry). It was fascinating to see her father, who usually sneered and cursed at children (particularly boys or masculine-leaning kids), being so affectionate and doting to a child.
(She denied the fact she felt envious)
Her mother welcomed her into her arms, giving her a warm hug as she settled onto the now bloody bed.
"Ah love, he's perfect", Hook said fondly.
"Looks like he's going to take after you just like Harriet", her mother murmured, caressing said girl's hair as she watched her husband hold their son.
Hook grinned," Better luck next time", he teased and her mother chuckled, Harriet smiling at this rare intimate scene with her family.
"Next time will be the last one", her mother warned.
(It was almost painful how true that will turn out to be)
"Of course, of course", Hook said with a roll of his eyes," Couldn't have asked for more", he said as he looked down at little Harry with affection," My boy. Our very first son".
The sentiment was meant to be sweet. But it made her mother look very, very ill and very, very guilty.
XXX
Harriet had some trouble sleeping that night. What with Harry crying at every hour of the night. She leapt out of bed in order to check on him, and perhaps see her mother as well.
What she walked into that night, would be something that would puzzle her for many years to come.
She left her room and walked out onto the deck. The deck was empty as everyone had gone to sleep. Everyone except her mother and brother of course.
Harriet had meant to announce her presence. But she had heard her mother muttering to herself and her young, curious mind did what many would do if they heard something they shouldn't. Keep listening.
"I have to tell him. I have to tell him- I have to tell him. God- I can't believe- oooh", her mother muttered angrily to herself as she paced the deck, holding Harry as she rocked him to sleep.
"If only I hadn't listened to the Queen and the Ministers. If I hadn't listened to Tink and the others, I should've told James. And none of this would've happened".
"He wasn't even supposed to be alive. They removed him from my body for Second Star's sake. It must have been the island's doing"
"I have to tell James. I have to. He deserves to know"
"I can't keep this any longer. Its too much to hide. I have to tell him-"
Harriet was so enthralled with her mother's mad muttering she hadn't noticed someone approach her from behind.
"Lass, what are you doing out of bed?"
She jumped, hearing her father's voice from right behind her. Her mother's muttering stopped as she heard Hook's voice.
"James? Harriet?"
"Is Harry asleep yet? Get back inside", Hook said roughly.
"He's asleep", her mother said sighing," James, there's something I have to confess".
"Can it wait til morning, love? I'm exhausted", Hook asked tiredly," Besides, the lass is out of bed and needs to be put back".
Her mother sighed," Of course", she said tiredly," I'm... not up for much talking either".
Hook stared at her with an unreadable expression on his face.
"Go to bed", he told her, no room for arguing. Her mother went inside, going straight for her and Hook's shared bedroom.
Harriet, meanwhile, was escorted to her room by her father.
He didn't tuck her in like her mother would. He stood at the door and watched. No words were exchanged between them as it happened.
"I saw you jump earlier. A great pirate must always be aware of their surroundings, Harriet", Hook said sternly.
"Yes father. Sorry father", Harriet said as she sat awkwardly in bed.
"Don't let it happen again"
"Yes, father"
And usually that would be the end of it. But Hook continued to stand in the doorway of her room, eyes staring at her but... never truly looking at her. His eyes seemed unfocused for the longest time.
"Lass?"
The way he said it made it seem like he was questioning whether it truly was her on the bed. Which was ridiculous. Who else would it be?
"Father?", Harriet asked worriedly as he stared for too long.
He shook his head to get out of his sudden daze," Nothing, nothing...", he paused,".... Do you know what yer mother was muttering about outside?".
'I have to tell him
'If only I hadn't listened'
None of this would've happened
It must have been the island's doing
Harriet shook her head," No. But it sounded important", she added.
"Ah I see", Hook said quietly. He stood there, deep in thought for a moment before he began to move to close her room door.
"Goodnight... Harriet"
Harriet blinked. Why did it sound like he was hesitating on her name?
idk i just think that soulmate au where you can only see / can’t see the color of your soulmates eyes would be super cute and definitely hilarious since peter’s eyes are. gold.
Xian Le’s precious many-hued crystals reflect the scenes of a golden age:
A young man in white descends like a bird in flight, diving against the wind,
in the turbulence, blossoms fall, a star of ill-omen mirrored in the jade mask,
ancient teachings swept aside. A flash, and gone. Naught but a glimpse, a glint of light.
In the depths of the unfathomable night, countless ominous green eyes hide.
Silver butterflies dance, glimmering as if with the light of distant stars.
Instantly on wild paths of remote mountains following that sound, seeking that figure -
radiant in the clear moonlight; he knows a harsh winter approaches yet journeys alone.
A thought for the blooming tree’s lingering fragrance, a thought led by the sword’s slash,
gently holding a peach blossom branch at the Heavenly Hall; thunder rolls, lightning flashes.
Time races forward like the white steed that leaps by a creek. Things change, the stars shift.
Deliver them from suffering - a flower, a sword, a wish, for fortune to grace the mortal realm.
They say at Taicang Mountain, unearthing traces of the ancient kingdom seems unlikely:
The walls are rubble, buildings dirt, the city so much sand and wind and gravel.
Prosperity eradicated, ravaged by the human-faced plague, war left it a scene of desolation.
Peeling back the layers only to find more mystery, The Nameless glows ever brighter green.
A thought for the blooming tree’s billowing ink-dark clouds, sudden rain washing flowers clean.
Time within the ember flows on, rushing towards the peach blossom paradise.
The heavy fog and looming clouds gradually receded. The unblemished bright sky it leaves,
still pales in comparison to a flower, a sword, a person and his bamboo hat in the rain.
Heart with the blooming tree, and even more, my dearest, watching for a message from afar.
Let the world laugh at me, lighting lanterns in the mountains for a wish.
Towards the past that has never been spoken of, when the world was thriving and beautiful.
With flames of hell burnt out at last, what’s left is: a flower, a sword, a lifetime to walk together.
Through heaven and earth we walk; may our shadows be paired, one never without the other.
