.
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"There was a time when I was alone
Nowhere to go and no place to call home
My only friend was the man in the moon
And even sometimes he would go away, too
Then one night, as I closed my eyes,
I saw a shadow flying high
He came to me with the sweetest smile
Told me he wanted to talk for awhile
He said, "Peter Pan. That's what they call me.
I promise that you'll never be lonely."
-"Lost Boy", Ruth B.
(:)(A)(:)
Neverland
Chapter One
(:)(A)(:)
The first time she sees him she thinks she is dreaming. He is a mere shadow dancing on the moon, his silhouette growing bigger and bigger until he is framed by her bedroom window with a back drop of inky night and bright stars. She blinks, slow and with eyes still heavy with sleep, and he is gone.
In the morning she thinks that the vision of a pink haired boy must be derived from her loneliness.
The house she grew up in is no longer the home she once knew. It hasn't been since her mother died. The bustling household has turned stale, the rooms quiet. Mrs. Spetto, her governess, has been fired - the cook as well. The maid only comes once a week now, to dust and do her father's laundry. Lucy looks forward to her visits, even though she is ignored in favor of getting chores done. It breaks up the monotony of her days.
At night, usually after dark, her father comes home. He doesn't say hello, doesn't ask about her day, instead he walks up the stairs and to his study. He shuts the door behind him. He goes to bed after she has fallen asleep, and leaves for work - or wherever else he goes - before she wakes. She can't remember the last time they had a conversation. The most she ever hears from him is the sound of his pen scratching against parchment that leaks through the cracks in the copper keyhole.
Still, she is lucky. She is not blind to the children begging outside her front door. She sees them, filthy and dressed in rags, through her bedroom window. She knows that while she is housed by a roof and ornately decorated walls, their home consists of alleyways and makeshift boxes. Many of their lungs are blackened by soot and coal from working at the factories, she can hear it in the way some of the older children cough. As lonely as she is, she knows things can be far, far worse.
Still - she knows that things can be far better as well.
Today the maid doesn't come, and Lucy is alone. She fills up the hours by dressing herself in her finer clothes and by doing her hair up the way her mother once taught her (a complex series of braids that leave her hands numb by the time she is finished). When she is done she admires herself in the mirror and reminds herself that, surely, one day soon she will be able to twirl for someone other than her reflection. Eventually she makes her way to the library that used to be her mother's. She lets her fingers skim the titles, ghosting across the leather bound spines, and settles for whichever one feels right.
When the daylight begins to fade she marks her page with a ribbon, and places the story back alongside its brethren. Then she goes upstairs to her room, untangles herself from her fine silks and matching heeled boots and pulls the white laced nightgown over her head. As she brushes the tangles from her hair she listens for the opening and closing of the front door below. Once she used to wait for her father - dressed in all her finery - at the bottom of the staircase, but experience has taught her to save herself the effort.
She sets the silver brush (her mother's) down on the vanity before beginning to weave her blonde strands into two twin braids. She wonders if the strange boy will appear again in her dreams tonight. She can't say that she would mind if he did.
She slips in between the sheets until she is thoroughly tucked up to her chest. August has brought heat during the days, but the nights have remained cool. As she reaches towards her bedside table with the intent to turn off the lamp, she pauses.
Her window is open - the gauzy curtains swaying in the summer breeze. Cautiously, she pulls her covers away and steps from her bed. Nervous energy buzzes beneath her skin as she puts the comfort of her sheets behind her. She does not remember opening the window. In fact, she is sure that she hasn't. Her fingers brush against the white wooden frame, her eyes inspecting the metal latch. It is in perfect condition – there is even a fine layer of dust to stand testament that it has not been touched in quite some time. She frowns, running a clean finger over the metal and murmuring under her breath, "How-?"
"What are you doing?"
She jumps, a hand flying to her heart while the other grips the window frame to steady herself. Behind her is a boy - the boy she saw in her dreams - only now, with the help of her lamp light, she can see him clearly. He looks to be her age, certainly not a day over seventeen. His skin is tan, and across his nose and cheeks is the dusting of freckles. The shockingly pink (and very much untamed) hair tickling his ears assures her that he is indeed the same boy she dreamed of the previous night. "But I'm awake," she blurts, eyeing his strange clothes. He must be a foreigner. None of the London boys would wear such a green tunic. They certainly wouldn't expose their legs in such a way.
He blinks, tilting his head and regarding her curiously. "You're kinda weird, huh?"
Indignation flares, all but erasing her earlier cautions. "I beg your pardon!? I certainly am not! You're the one breaking into a lady's room at such an inappropriate hour! And when I'm in my night clothes! You should be ashamed, sir! My father -!"
His feet lift from the ground, and before she knows it his face is mere inches from her own. Startled, she sucks in a breath and wills her heart to slow. He is inspecting her so closely, she wonders if his eyes (green she notices - the color of forest moss) can see the slight tremble in her limbs. "How - how did you do that?" She whispers, the fear she felt earlier coming back ten fold. "What are you?"
Again he tilts his head and, after inspecting her for a few moments longer, he leans back until his toes hover only a few mere inches from the ground. "I'm Natsu." She waits, expecting him to elaborate. Instead, he continues to stare at her - expectant. After a few moments, he breaks the awkward silence. "This is the part where you tell me your name."
She sputters, unsure if she should feel embarrassed by her own rudeness or irritated by his. When his wild hair parts, revealing what appears to be a miniature blue cat, she jumps. When, after a dramatic yawn, the cat talks, she has to bite back a scream.
"I think maybe this one is just stupid, Natsu."
Natsu frowns, seeming to contemplate. "I don't think so. She talks pretty smart."
"That's because I am smart!" she snaps, lost somewhere between shock and indignation. "I can read and write better than most the other girls my age! And I'll have you know that I've read every book in my mother's library! Some of them even twice!"
Natsu looks both impressed and excited. The grin he gives her is so eager that his cheek dimples on one side. "You've read that many?! You must know a lot of great stories!" Lucy swells with pride - she does indeed know a good deal of stories - but before she can assure him, he glances up to where the cat is still nestled between his bangs. "See, Happy? She's just weird is all."
"Aye!" the cat chirps.
Lucy wants to argue, but stops herself with a shake of her head. It would be silly. "I'm dreaming," she says – mostly to her self. "I must have fallen asleep without realizing it. You – both of you – are just a figment of my imagination." She walks past them, catching their offended look as she begins the process of tucking herself back in.
"Are not!" Natsu exclaims, flying over and hovering over her bed to glare down at her. "We're just as real as you are!"
She props herself up on her elbows, refusing to be intimidated. "You're flying," she says dryly, "Your hair is pink. And you have a tiny talking cat. You are most definitely not real."
"My hair ain't pink! It's salmon!"
"Yeah, and I'm not a cat!"
Lucy ignores them, letting her head fall back onto her pillow before turning onto her side and pulling the covers up to her cheek. Stubbornly, she closes her eyes and tells herself that perhaps if she falls asleep in her dream she may wake back up in the real world. Something else nags at her though, something she feels the need to say. "Besides," she murmurs into her sheets, "If you were real then Father would have heard you. He would have come up by now to make sure I am alright."
For a second the two of them are quiet, and Lucy thinks that maybe they have gone. Then, softly, she hears the cat – Happy the boy had called him – whisper, "Natsu, I don't think she knows –"
Natsu shushes him and things go silent until Lucy feels him prod her shoulder. "Hey, don't go to bed. Don't you want to go on an adventure?"
Her eyes blink open, curious despite herself. Slowly she turns to look at him, not surprised to see him still hovering over her. "What kind of adventure?"
The grin he gives her is blinding. "The best kind!"
She thinks that his answer leaves a lot to be desired, but she can't help but feel a small thrill at the thought of the unknown. She sits up and watches as the boy folds his legs and settles at her feet. He seems all too excited for her answer. "Well," she says cautiously, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt." She is only dreaming after all.
Natsu jumps up, whooping loud enough that she is sure the whole street will have heard. Before she can fully slip out of her covers, he is grabbing her hand and pulling her out of bed. "Come on, let's go!"
Lucy huffs, nearly losing her balance in the face of his rough treatment. "But, I can't go out in my night gown!"
His nose wrinkles. "Why? It looks like any regular ole dress to me."
"But it isn't -" she stops herself. It isn't proper. Her father would die if he knew. She is a terrible daughter to admit it (even if only to herself) but the thought of angering her father pleases her. The thought of disobeying his strict commands makes the idea of an adventure even more exciting. She would never find the courage to rebel in the real world, but here - in this dream - she feels she has more than earned the luxury.
"Ok," she breaths, letting him lead her to the open window. She feels dizzy, almost light. She wonders if the small taste of freedom has stolen the air from her lungs and placed it beneath her feet. "Where are we going?"
Natsu grins, releasing her hand and floating out the open window. "Neverland of course!"
"Neverland?" she repeats, skeptical. She eyes the empty air beneath his feet - the sight of him flying both thrilling and unnerving at the same time. "I've never heard of such a place."
"It's only the best place ever," he boasts, chest seeming to puff with pride. "There's mermaids and pirates! And you never have to grow up or let anyone tell you what to do." He holds out an open hand, his eyes promising adventure. "Let me show you."
She licks her lips and, after only a moments hesitation, places her hand in his. In her delicate palms his hands feel rough and callused, but also oh so warm. It has been so, so long since she felt the touch of another person. Her grip tightens, not wanting to lose the feeling. Natsu doesn't seem to mind.
He glances up, his free hand plucking the cat from his pink locks and holding him in his open palm. For the first time, Lucy notices the tiny white wings perched on his back. "Alright, Happy! You know what to do!"
Happy gives a quick scratch behind the ear before giving a mock salute. "Aye Aye!" His wings flutter and in an instant he flying circles above her head - a veil of golden dust shedding from his wings and coating her hair and skin.
"He flies," she mutters, unsure if she should be surprised by anything at this point. "The tiny cat flies." She sneezes. "And sheds... dust."
Happy pauses in his flight, hovering right in front of her nose and giving her a steady glare. "I'm not a cat!" He zips away, perching on Natsu's shoulder and tugging at his ear. "Maybe she's deaf?"
Natsu rubs the feline's head with a single finger. "Nah, she just hasn't seen a pixie before!" Before Lucy can argue (because she has certainly never heard of a pixie ever looking like that) the boy is grinning down at her. "Are you ready to fly?"
Fly? Her heart stutters in her chest, but she can't be sure if it's from fear or excitement. She looks down at the ground below Natsu's feet and swallows thickly. "What if I fall?" she asks. She hates the falling dreams – hates the way she wakes feeling helpless and alone.
He takes her other hand and gives her a reassuring squeeze . "I won't let you fall. Promise."
She takes a deep breath, nodding. "Alright," she breaths, taking a trembling step forward until her slippered feet are balancing on the sill. She can't be sure if the trembling in her limbs is due to the cool summer breeze or concealed terror. She tears her gaze away from the ground and Natsu's eyes are there to catch her - his hold on her hands ever steady. "Alright," she repeats – firmer this time. "What do I do?"
"Just think happy thoughts!" he chirps, "It's easy!"
Happy thoughts? She thinks of the past few years – of the secluded days spent with only inked pages for company and of the even lonelier nights – and her shoulders sag. The fear she felt earlier is quickly chased away by disappointment. Even thinking of the times before, times with her mother, are tinged with too much pain to ever bring her joy. Every happy moment in her life has been tainted by the misery she lives with now. "I... I can't think of any," she admits, feeling almost ashamed as tears threaten to spill from the corners of her eyes.
Slowly Natsu's smile fades into something that looks more like pity. "Not one?" When she shakes her head she can feel him hesitate. "Well, what about playing in the leaves in the fall? Or the mud? Doesn't that make you happy?"
Lucy laughs, but it is a brittle sound. "Father doesn't allow those things. It is not proper for a young lady like myself," she says, parroting the words she has heard her entire life. She gives Natsu as much of a smile she can muster. "I'm sorry. I guess I can't come on an adventure with you after all." Her gaze moves to Happy, who is both silent and looking between her and Natsu with concern. "I'm sorry you wasted your pixie dust."
The tiny feline opens his mouth to say something, but Natsu speaks first. "Happy? Why don't you go on ahead, yeah?" After a moments hesitation the pixie nods, giving her one last glance before disappearing into the night; blending in with the stars until his light flickers away from her sight.
Lucy looks down at their joined hands, knowing that she should let him go but unable to summon the courage to do so. She doesn't know how long it will be before she has someone to talk to again, let alone touch.
He gives her hands a firm squeeze. "Guess that just means we're going to have to make some," he says, sounding far more chipper than she feels. She she gives him a curious (albeit hopeful) look, and he moves her hands until they are joined behind his neck. She doesn't even have time to be embarrassed before he is giving her a wide grin. "Just hold on tight, and I'll do the flying for both of us. Ok?"
Hope blooms in her chest and she nods furiously, lacing her fingers together behind his neck as he scoops her up and into his arms. She is so happy she can hardly find the words to speak. She needs this. She needs this dream so desperately, she is certain she will die without it. So when he looks down at her and asks if she's ready, Lucy knows the answer. The fear of never flying far outweighs her fear of falling. "Yes."
He pushes off the window sill and suddenly they are shooting up into the air with such speed that she wonders if sparks are flying from his feet. She looks down and sees the city she grew up in, the windows shining with warm light that makes them look like stars. She has never seen it look more beautiful.
"You know," Natsu says, the humor in his voice tangling with the wind rushing past her ears, "You still haven't told me your name."
She smiles, abandoning the view of city below to look up at him. He looks just as he did in her her dream – hair wild and framed with stars. "Lucy," she tells him, "My name is Lucy."
AN: I may have been listening to Ruth B's "Lost Boy" on repeat lately... repeatedly. I was originally going to wait to post until I had the story complete before posting, but I totally failed and forgot about Nalu Week this week. So, in lieu of having absolutely no prompts done, I decided to go ahead an post this early. This will be a short story – only 3 (possibly 4) chapters long.
Also, the next chapter of 'Ignite' is almost complete. I hope to get it up this week or next week. :)
Please let me know your thoughts on this one (I'm kinda excited about it).