Wendy Dare.
Or, the Girl Who Wouldn't Grow Up.
A/N: I don't have much to say except this was very fun to write and I hope you enjoy it!
Full Summary: What if things were switched around slightly? What if a few small details were changed in the universe? What if there was no Peter Pan, Tinkerbell the Pixie or Wendy Darling or Lost Boys, but instead there were only Lost Girls and their leader, the infamous Wendy Dare and her Pixie friend, Terence? What if there were no Darling family but the Panning family, who were made up of George and Mary Panning and their children, Peter Martin Arthur Panning, the eldest, John Samuel Panning, the second oldest and the young twins Michael George and Annabelle, or Tinker Belle, as the boys nicknamed her, who tell tales of a place called Never Land and a girl called Wendy Dare and her merry crew or Lost Girls, who they strongly believe are real. Now, you might not think these changes, in the grand scheme of the universe, could never change much. Well, good reader, you would be wrong, very wrong.
All Girls Grow Up…Except One.
Once Upon A Time… Many stories start like that, don't they? Specifically fairy tales, in which a helpless girl has to wait for her Knight in Shining armour to rescue her.
And, although Peter Panning's stories began with a Once Upon A Time and ended with a Happily Ever After, his fairy tales couldn't have been any more different.
"… And so Cinderella, although banished from her kingdom by her husband the King, had slayed the evil Captain Jeremiah Blackbeard was now the new Captain of the Merry Weather, which she renamed The Glass Slipper soon after she had sentenced the male crew who had captured her in the first place for ransom money off the kingdom to walk the plank and began to sail the seas with her crew of strong and skilled girls she had picked up and together they fulfilled their dreams of adventure and sailed away from all things ugly and ordinary …" Peter Martin Arthur Panning decided to pause his story for the moment after hearing an almost inaudible tap at the window, but ignored it and grinned at his three younger siblings. John Samuel Panning who was ten, so was a year younger than eleven year-old Peter, and the five year-old twins Michael George and Annabelle Mary Panning, although the boys rarely called her by Annabelle, only on important occasions did they do so, but instead called her by her nickname, Tinker Belle, as she was a beautiful young girl who loved to make musical sounds with pots and pans, but with her delicate grip the usual banging sounds commonly heard from boys was instead sweet and multiple little tinks. Thus she was blessed with the name Tinker Belle, or Tink at other times.
The three younger siblings beamed at their brother, and together the four finished the story in perfect unison, although Michael and Tink did still say 'w' instead of 'l' in words. "Happily ever after!" Then Peter's siblings stood up and clapped, cheered and whooped as the eldest stood as well and bowed, laughing joyfully. He may have been the eldest but Peter Panning had one of the most childish, innocent exquisite imaginations in the entirety of Europe. His parents didn't entirely agree with his behaviour, even though his mother accepted it easier than his father, as he was almost a man!
He was nearing closer and closer to the age of thirteen every day and Peter never wanted to turn thirteen, because, when he did, he would be no longer be allowed to be or act like a child and would have tailored tuxedos, rules, harder and firmer education dreaded responsibilities and, the very worst of them all, the beginning of the mandatory courting of rich and respectable (although how most of these men got rich in the first was probably a lot less then respectable, Peter thinks as he sees his father get three shillings taken off his pay check, yet again) men's daughters. But he knew that doing such would mean he could help his family pay the bills. The Panning's only reason saving Grace when it came to keeping their big and roomy home in Bloomsbury was because of two things. One, it had been inherited, so the bulk of the houses cost had been paid long before they stepped into it. Two, Peter's father was an accountant at a bank in the centre of London and knew how to spread his pay check, the only source of income for the Panning's was that single pay check, perfectly. But even so, the family struggled quite a bit and it was their mother who became the saviour when they had to go to fancy functions, as her dress and suit designs, which she was able to make with money his father gave her for fabrics, were so impeccable that everyone thought they wore the latest designer fashions.
Peter shook his head of these thoughts. He was not yet thirteen and that was brilliant! He had two more years until that turmoil began he had to face his second biggest fear: moving out of Nursery. He had lived with his siblings, played and told stories and rough housed with them for his entire life, the idea all that would come to a random crash was terrifying.
John and Tink ran to the toy box and pulled out five objects. Tink pulled out a wooden sword and ocean blue headband with a multi-coloured paper feather, meant to resemble a peacock feather, stuck to the inside of it. She put on and jumped on Johns bed and watched John equip himself with a sword, pirate hat and a coat hanger he held in his left hand, which was now hidden in his pyjama sleeve, to give the coat hanger the impression of being a hook. Tink saw her brother prepared and got into a en guard position. "We meet again Cap'n Hook!" She exclaimed, glaring at her brother.
"Alas, it is always in the most awful condition, my dear Wendy Dare!" And after a few more quips the two charged at each other and Tink bounced from bed to bed, she bounced on anything that wasn't the floor to mimic flying, something the brilliant Wendy Dare could do but the traitorous Captain Hook could not. Peter and Michael joined as members of Captain Hook's crew the three finally began to fight against Tink with a few "Take that you fiend"'s and "Hee yah!"'s. After twenty minutes, Tink-or Wendy Dare for this moment in time- used her sword to send John's glasses flying across the room.
"Argh you stupid girl!" John exclaimed as he ran after them and searched. "Retreat fellow pirates! But this is not over Wendy Dare! We will find a way to make you age!" The three boys ran to the other side of the room whilst Tink cackled victoriously. She jumped up and down before landing with her legs crossed and her light brown locks bouncing on her gown covered shoulders and freckled face.
"Never will you do such thing, ya old Codfish!" She giggled.
Michael, who was much like his sister in appearance, although he was a bit taller and his face was slightly chubbier, went and sat next to her and was followed by Peter, who dragged their mothers chair over to the bed and sat in it whilst John knelt down on the floor, chuckling to himself after those events. They were quite startled when Nana, the Panning family's Newfoundland dog who was also the children's nanny, which is quite unique in itself for other people to discover but the Panning's were far too used to it by now, began to bark, but they put it down to her seeing a bird.
The night on which the extraordinary adventures of these children may be said to have begun was the night on which Nana barked at the window. But there was nothing there; not a bird or a leaf, so they forgot about it, for what troubles a grown-up will never trouble a child.
The cuck-coo clock began to chirp and the children heard the front door open and a chorus and joyful greetings.
It was about now that Michael was being forced to have a bath by Nana and he, like every time, tried to out run her in the nude and he, like every time, failed and landed with a splash, causing the other children to laugh happily.
After Michael was suitable and dressed, the children descended down the stairs and greeted the Aunt Millicent the way their mother had them practicing all afternoon. Soon they were singing and laughing whilst George Panning played upbeat tunes on his piano.
There never was a happier, simpler family. Mr. Panning was the banker who knew the cost of everything, even a hug. Mrs. Panning was the loveliest lady in Bloomsbury, with a sweet mocking mouth that had one kiss on it that neither a man nor boy could ever get, only a woman, though there it was, perfectly conspicuous on the right-hand corner. And sometimes there was Aunt Millicent, who thought a dog for a nurse lowered the whole tone of the neighbourhood.
"Bravo, George, bravo." Aunt Millicent smiled.
"Peter's turn." John informed the small crown.
"Peter must tell a story." Tink and Michael said.
"Cecco, who carved his name on the governor at Goa." John offered.
"Noodler, with his hands on backwards." Tink joined in, twisting her hands as far as they would go for effect.
"Heavens!" The older woman gasped.
"Hook!" Michael exclaimed giddily.
"Hook?" Aunt Millicent questioned.
John decided to give his input. "Hook, whose eyes turn red as he guts you," he acted the motion out on himself.
"Upon my soul, how children are educated nowadays!" Aunt Millicent exclaimed, a hint of horror in her eyes.
"I'm afraid I am not learned at all, Aunt, but I do know a thing or two about pirates. My unfulfilled ambition is to write a great novel in three parts about my adventures. "
"What adventures?" The Aunt asked.
"I've yet to have them, but they will be perfectly thrilling." Peter grinned as he ran a hand through his golden brown hair.
"But child, novelists are not highly thought of in good society. And there is nothing so difficult to marry as a novelist." Aunt Millicent argued in a kind tone
"Marry?" The four siblings asked, in unison with their father.
"But Aunt, Wendy's not yet thirteen." Mrs Panning said, seeming to lose her composure for a moment.
"Walk towards me, dear, that I may appraise you." Aunt Millicent said.
"Go on, walk to your aunt. Stand up straight." Mr Panning urged to Peter.
"Turn around..." He did as he was told. "Oh yes, it's quite as I expected. Peter possesses his father's chin." She smiled and turned her eyes to Tink and sighed happily. "Oh my darling Annabelle, I cannot wait for you to become a woman, oh the excitement you shall feel the day you first notice your kiss." The children's mother and aunt got a far-away look in their eyes simultaneously, so they did not notice Tink's face contort into one of disgust; she dreaded growing up.
"A kiss?" Michael asked, the term unfamiliar to him.
"Like Mother's kiss?" John slowly asked, unsure.
"A hidden kiss." Aunt Millicent agreed.
"But what is it for?" Tink asked, her voice a light mix of curiosity, confusion and fear.
"It is for the greatest adventure of all. They that find it have slipped in and out of heaven." Aunt Millicent said dreamily.
"Find what?" Peter asked, curious. Did they find treasure? A pirate ship?
"The one the kiss belongs to." Peter frowned slightly. That sounded boring in comparison to what he thought. Really boring
"My Peter, a man." Mrs Pannings face softened and Peter's father beamed with pride.
Aunt Millicent smiled at him gently. "Almost a man. He must spend less time with his brothers, and more time with me and my husband. He must have his own room, a young man's room."
"Leave the nurs-" Michael began in a horrified tone before Tink slapped her hand over his mouth.
The Aunt turned her gaze on the father and cleared her throat. "George, the son of a clerk cannot hope to marry as well as that of a manager. You must attend more parties; make small talk with your superiors at the bank. Wit is very fashionable at the moment." Aunt Millicent told him sternly.
"Wit." George said with a dry throat and hoarse voice as he then began to drain his glass.
Soon the children were sent to bed, for the adults had serious discussions to have.
Later that night- Peter's P.O.V
I dreamt of Never Land, as I did most nights, and that I was there with Michael, Tink and John. But I felt odd. Well, my real self, not my dream self. I was certain I was being watched and… tickled?
I slowly came into conscious and rubbed my hands on my first to make the tickling irritation go away and began to open my eyes, which went wide when I saw a girl, maybe a year older than me, hovering above me. Her long brown hair, which was in two pigtails, with many twigs and leaves stuck in it, dangled above my face, the tips brushing lightly against my face. She looked at me curiously with her big blue eyes, which stood out from her lightly tanned face, which was cover in paint and dirt as if it were war paint, as she stroked my face, but the second she saw I was awake, she pulled her hand away faster than you could crack a whip. I gasped loudly, which caught the attention of Nana, who leaped out of her kennel which, because of her job, was obviously in the nursery, and barked at the girl. Her eyes widened as she began to fly around the room before zipping out of the bedroom window, which I was certain was closed before we fell asleep, but the girl was too fast for Nana, however, her shadow wasn't and Nana latched on to it and eventually trapped it into the drawer in which my mother keeps her sewing equipment, so she can teach Tink, and candles.
I ran to the drawer underneath the one that captured the shadow and grabbed a candle and lit it before running to the window, but there was no sign of the girl.
I shook my head. I must still be dreaming, I thought to myself. None of this makes sense. I sighed and climbed into bed as Nana settled in her kennel once again and her soft snoring lured me slowly to sleep, but not before I finally felt how my cheeks were burning.
I couldn't have possibly met her, was one of my last thoughts, I couldn't have possibly met Wendy Dare.