Under Power

Peter didn't create Neverland. He was simply king. When a new boy comes and threatens Peter's position, Peter won't go down without a fight. Flying to London to enlist the help of Wendy and the Lost Boys, he realizes, just maybe… PeterWendy

Disclaimer: I don't own Peter Pan.

Author's note: Never read the book, and this is based mostly on vague memory of the 2003 movie that I've seen but once and some information I've found in other fanfics that stir my memory. Sorry if this might not be as accurate, but if you catch an error, please tell me!

Of course, this chapter is poorly written, as it's a school day and I really should be getting ahead on my homework. I'm also sorry about the length, but enjoy anyways and please review! My first PP fanfic.

I confess! I update faster with more reviews.

chapter 1 TIME

Peter had never seriously considered "time." It was a frivolous thing that only grown-ups worried about, he believed. After all, for him, time was endless. Time was infinite, but grown-ups always seemed to be pressured by it. It was rather ridiculous, he reckoned in his child's mind as he hung upside down on the ceiling, practicing sword-fighting in his tree. After all, from what he understood, time was created by grown-ups. How could you hate something you made yourself?

"Hyah! Take that!" Peter cried to his imaginary opponent after a particularly dangerous strike, a triumphant grin on his face. Hook wasn't dead, he realized soon after flying back to Neverland. He was quite glad, too, for life in Neverland would have been quite dull without him. With the sharp, gleaming hook that served as his hand, he had torn out of the crocodile's stomach, battered and weak but still alive. As a souvenir of his accomplishments, he had a hideous scar stretched down his right thigh and left forearm and a crocodile skin that he draped in his room.

A brilliant ball of light came floating in, distracting Peter from his swordplay. "Tink! What's wrong?" He studied the fairy as she waved her arms in anxiety. Interpreting, Peter slowly said, "There's… a new boy? Excellent! A new Lost Boy!" Life had grown a little drabber without the Lost Boys as they left with Wendy. After all, even if boys were not quite as smart as girls, many parents would notice if their child suddenly disappeared from their crib within those seven days. They didn't grow off trees.

However, Tink shook her head vigorously and yanked on Peter's finger, her eyes wide. However, all her worry was lost on Peter. "Rumors!" he scoffed after he was done listening to the little fairy. "I was the only king that Neverland has ever had, and I am the only king Neverland will ever have," he proclaimed, swinging his sword in exaggeration. "But, out of the goodness of my heart, I will go and meet this new Lost Boy."

Not listening to any more of Tink's antics, he flew out of his hollow tree and followed the reluctant Tinkerbell to rather boring grassy place that Peter had never really bothered adventuring in – after all, it was universally known in Neverland that this part of the world was the most boring place that was possible. Why it was even a part of Neverland, Peter never bothered to find out.

The boy was rather young, Peter noted – younger than him. No more than eight, the boy had fine blond hair and brown eyes that looked nothing special. "I'm Peter. Peter Pan," Peter introduced proudly before gesturing to the fairy beside him who glared at the boy, her arms crossed. "And this is Tink. Welcome to Neverland!"

He hadn't bothered to ask the boy's name, for often, they didn't remember it. He was briefly surprised when the little boy clambered to his feet and introduced himself, with some difficulty, "Matthew – Matthew W – Wi… Wo… Wok." At Peter's puzzled expression, he repeated, only slightly more firmly, "I'm Matthew Wok."

"Wok?" Peter repeated, waving away his initial surprise. "That's an odd last name."

He drew himself a little higher (which did not make much of a difference, Peter thought), saying, "I – don't quite…"

Peter didn't really care, interrupting the boy. He had an offended look as Peter spoke over him, and for the life of him, Peter didn't understand why. However, as he mentioned sword-fighting and archery, the boy immediately perked up, a brighter smile on his face.

"Are – are there any other boys – or people – here?" he questioned as he followed Peter after a moment's of silence.



"Loads," Peter responded. "Pirates, Indians, Mermaids – though you're the only Lost Boy. The rest of them left."

"Left?" The boy's face frowned in confusion. "Left where?"

Peter shrugged as though the matter was little of his concern. "They left with their mother."

"And you didn't go?"

"Go?" Peter echoed. "And grow up?" He laughed at the absurd idea. "Never." With a leap, he began to fly. After all, walking was tiresome and took far too long. Always the impatient boy, Peter rarely walked when he didn't have to.

He grinned cockily as he heard the Lost Boy's gasp of amazement. "How'd you - ?"

"Fly? Think happy thoughts."

And even Peter couldn't deny the fact that when Manny Bok – or whatever he was called – being able to fly without pixie dust, even on his first try, was not normal.

--

"What?"

It was rare such an occasion had occurred, where everyone – Indians, Mermaids, Fairies, Pirates, everyone – gathered together in a peaceful ceremony, particularly because Hook and Peter were both present. However, at the moment, both seemed equally shocked and neither were at each other's throats.

"You cannot deny that you were not the first to rule us, Peter," a mermaid said, her eyes wide and hypnotizing, her hand stretching out toward the land, as she was – with her mermaid sisters – still in the water beside the meeting place.

The fairy king nodded in agreement, speaking himself. All Peter could think was that he was thankful that Michael Hog – or was it Monday Wall? – wasn't present. In fact, Monty Cock was off practicing somewhere; though it had been barely two weeks, Peter had to confess that Mark was good and even rivaled him at points, though he credited all to himself for being an excellent teacher.

"Impossible! Peter's been with us for the longest," Princess Tiger Lily proclaimed with a heavy accent.

"But does that mean his time is over?" Hook drew off his grand feathered hat and held it against is chest as he mock-bowed. "My sympathies, Pan, that I have never yet been able to defeat you in a duel." He drew his sword, a strange glint in his eye. "Let us part in good terms, shall we not?"

Knowing that what he intended was to finally win a duel, Peter drew his own sword. "You can never defeat me, Hook!" he declared, throwing out his chest in pride.

"Do not fight!" one of the Indians shouted, throwing himself between the two before the duel began. "We are here in conference, not in war!"

"Conference," Peter scoffed, reluctantly putting his sword away as Hook sheathed his. "That's an awfully grown-up thing to do. I'd rather be in war."

"Regardless," the Indian continued, "the fact remains that Neverland has spoken." He gestured to the book that laid open in his hands, with the kings of Neverland dating back to when Neverland was first created. Neverland had been the first world, Peter knew, before some part broke away and became the grown-up world it was today. And, at the very end right beneath his neatly written name Peter Pan that he could barely read, was the neatly printed name Matthew Wok.

"That doesn't mean anything," Peter said defiantly.

"It means everything," a pirate corrected. "Oh, if I could get my name written in that thing…"

"That – Mildrew Pocket probably wrote his own name himself!" Peter said. He was confident that it was the answer; after all, since when was he ever wrong?



There is… The fairy king hesitated, not knowing whether to continue. There is one loophole… The whole court waited breathlessly for his words. There is always a reason for Neverland to choose a new king. Perhaps the current king – he spoke with a glance at Peter – is now lacking some… necessary qualities to maintain his position, or perhaps his heart isn't –

Peter folded his arms, annoyed. It was always his heart, wasn't it? Always his heart… He wondered briefly why the term sounded familiar. Who else had talked about hearts and – feelings, was it?

"A loophole provided in case Neverland has ever made a mistake," a mermaid interrupted, tossing her gleaming dark brown hair over her shoulder. "Peter must prove himself to be better than Matthew."

"Prove myself better?" Peter echoed. That was simple; of course he was better than Mattress Lock! "That's it?"

"Of course not," the mermaid said, looking rather scandalized that anything should ever be that simple. "You must overcome your deficiency as well."

Peter frowned as no one spoke. "Well?" he demanded after a moment's silence. "What's my dead – del – def – "

"Deficiency, Pan," snapped Hook.

Nobody knows, the fairy queen replied in her tinkling. But you must find out in one month since Matthew's arrival and defeat it.

One month since Maggot's arrival. That means there are two weeks left. Well, that was no problem, is it?

He didn't know how wrong he was.

--

It couldn't have been fighting, for Peter had defeated Money Hawk several times in a duel. Peter had done everything, anything possible. Millard Won still remained oblivious to all of Peter's newfound worry. He'd dropped himself from the tallest tree and flew at the last minute. He defeated Hook. Again. He dove into the waters the mermaids lived in and even survived without being drowned. He did everything.

One week left, and he had come to nothing.

For the first time, Peter Pan felt the burden of time in his chest.