Over the Bonfire (part 9 of 'My Brave Wendy')
by Isabelle
Disclaimers: The rights to the film and book "Peter Pan/Peter Pan and Wendy" do not belong to me; this is just done for entertainment. Chapter Disclaimers:
Rating: PG-15 (for adult themes and mild sexual references)
Feedback: isabelle@komodo-skin.com
Archiving: It's a requirement that I have that you ask me before posting any of my written work. Thank you.
Summary: This is a work of fiction based on the 2003 film "Peter Pan"; it is centered, like the film around Peter & Wendy's relationship, just so you know. Basically the whole "never saw each other again" is out the window and for the purposes of the fiction they did.
Setting: This happens 1 year after Peter last saw Wendy, she's now been sent to a boarding school in Switzerland with her parent's new found fortune, but it's nothing like the place they thought it to be, as WWI is in it's starting stages there's fear all around and she's left without adult supervision along with some of her boarding school girls to find a way home and hoping that a certain first love will find her.
Spoilers: The film, it'll spoil you if you have not seen the film!!
Appreciation: My beta, who rocks my world at this moment, Rogue!!
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Nothing gold can stay.
It is a universally known truth.
Though the wind did diminish, the coldness that settled the group when they realized that Peter was not exactly a 'normal man' made winter in Switzerland seem like a summer day.
It all happened the next morning, after they had rested in the hay barn, well fed on Wendy's stew, warm with the extra blankets Peter had brought and the small fire that was kept going through the night. The morning brought with her the sun, making some of the snow melt and the path much more easy to follow.
When the girls had informed Peter that they had to start walking up a particular steep hill Peter's face brightened with an idea.
An idea Wendy had also considered but dismissed all too quickly, knowing full well the girls would not be able to handle it.
"Why don't we fly?" he had asked.
The girls at first though him to be humorous but when he leapt out into the air, his limbs all too accustomed to it, a bright smile on his face as he looked down at them, they screamed. They screamed and scattered about, begging for their lives.
Anna had pulled Joanna's sword from the girl's bag and brandished it at Peter.
"Peter, no!" Wendy called out to him. "Get down! Please!"
He had seen the desperation in those blue eyes he loved so much so biting his lip he gentle floated down, his face slightly red with embarrassment.
"Please calm down girls, I can explain, really!" Wendy called to them.
It took some time to get them all to sit down, and over some stale crackers Wendy told them the story. Her story, the story of Peter, Neverland, Captain Hook, the Lost Boys... everything.
That was the beginning of their troubles.
At first Anna has proclaimed them all mad, overall Wendy, and Peter was deemed possessed by an evil spirit that needed to be exorcised the moment they found an Orthodox Church. Then she demanded hard fact. Where exactly was the supposed 'fairy' that provided the dust to make it possible for them to fly? To that Peter had no response, his face fell as he admitted that he had not been able to find her. Tink didn't like him standing about with girls. Even Wendy (to which Wendy grimaced and looked away).
Anna looked quite proud of herself, as if she'd figured something out. She also proceeded to let them all know that it was all a child's game and she was not mistaken when she told them all that they were no longer children.
To that; they had no reply. Not even Peter.
So they packed for a cold night, and started the steep climb up the mountain.
Anna would never admit it but once they had walked for a few hours she desperately wished there was indeed a fairy with fairy dust that would make them leap over mountains.
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Christian was loosing patience. He hated working with civilians whose heads were filled with milking cows and processing cheese. It was beyond annoyance; it was an insult to his intellectual ability.
"Have you see these girls," he would hold up the picture provided to him by the prince. It showed two lovely young girls, one with long shinny black hair and eyes as clear as the sea, the other had shorter blonde hair and darker eyes. He knew there were five to the group but he figured those would be enough to find them, especially if they were traveling like peasants. If there was something he knew of well-bred young ladies was that they stood out in a crow as being helpless and completely dependant on the male figure around them. They wouldn't be easy to miss.
The peasants would look at the picture like they'd never seen one and in most cases many of them had never.
He'd wasted four days already. Four days and with each passing day the possibility that someone else might get the kill woke him from his short hours of sleep.
On the fifth day he got the scent of blood.
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"We'll rest here for the night, the night is a bit warmer than the rest, we shouldn't need a cave... a good fire will do," Wendy told them, placing her own bag down.
"I'll take it," Peter grabbed the heavier bag, smiling at her as he did.
It happened once more, they got lost in each other's eyes as they often did during the day, grins that turned into wide smiles and made Anna cringe at the sappiness of it all.
"Thank you, Peter," Wendy told him, handing over the heavy bag.
"I'll start a fire so we can cook the deer."
Peter, while they took a small nap, had gone out and hunted a small but healthy deer that would serve them with enough food for a few days.
The girls, though at first apprehensive were now all smiles with him, praising his hunting skills. Peter was always an attention whore, he loved all the admiring looks he received from the girls and often wondered why he though he could spend the rest of his days around only boys.
Girls were much more prettier than boys and though they did complain a lot a smile and some praise from them made up for any faults they had.
Anna had also drastically changed her attitude towards Peter. Sure, she cringed when Wendy and him stared at each other in a moony-sort of way but her dislike was now geared towards Wendy... for Peter she now gave him as many smiles as the others did and in many cases compliments that would've been frowned upon in proper society. But they weren't in proper society. They were in the middle of nowhere.
While they walked in their hard and cold paths he would entertain them with stories of Neverland but always insisted that Wendy tell her own fairytales.
His new favorite was The Little Mermaid, it was a wonderfully tragic story... though the first time she told it to him he made her change the ending, insisting that Ariel would've taken the Prince and made him a merman so that they could live happily-ever after in the ocean with her.
"It doesn't end that way, Peter!" Wendy told him one night.
"Why can't it, Wendy? Why can't she simply take him away from the horrible world and stay with her under the sea?" he insisted, his hands shaking and his eyes wide as he told her this.
"Because he'll never be part of her world... sometimes people just don't belong together..." a tear had escaped her right eye and it traveled quickly down to her neck.
He studied the tear and found out he loved the tear. She should cry if she would never come back with him... if she would leave him.
He had flown away then, upset and discomforted by her answers.
The next night she had changed the ending. Though her face was emotionless when she informed them that the Prince realized it was Ariel he loved and went into the sea with her, both gaining their fins.
She had retired to sleep that night early, Peter stayed up, telling the girls the story of him cutting off Hook's hand and throwing it to the crocodile. When all the girls were asleep Peter crept to Wendy's resting place.
Her left hand was tucked under her chin and her eyes were closed in that angelic way he loved. Her lips, full and pink as ever despite being in the cold for so many days, her lashes long and brushing against her cheeks.
He reached out to touch her but her eyes flew open, feeling him near her. "Go to sleep, Peter. We have a long day ahead."
Her eyes closed again but it didn't deter him. He leaned in and whispered. "What would happen if the Little Mermaid because a human? To stay with her Prince?"
Wendy opened her eyes slowly and turned to him. She stared at him for a while, drinking his vulnerability and honesty.
"She would never be happy, Peter. She would miss the magic of her world too much and life would become too real. She will die one day, slowly... while she could live countless lifetimes under the ocean." she sat up to look at him as he processed this information.
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It was late at night when the doorbell rang, startling the household and placing them in alert.
"Who could it be, George? At this hour!" Mary cried, following him down the stairs.
"Perhaps there's news on Wendy--"
They didn't need any more incentive, as they rushed as fast as their feet could carry them downstairs. Without checking who it was, Mr. Darling yanked the door opened and stood back.
Mrs. Darling gasped and pulled her robe tightly against her small frame.
"May I help you, sir?" Mr. Darling asked, hoping his voice didn't waver.
Before stood a very finely dressed older man, gray beard and mustache, in a polished top hat and a shiny cane. Two man-servants stood behind him, one holding an umbrella against the light rain the other had rung the doorbell and was stepping aside so the older man could be the focal attention.
"Mr. and Mrs. Darling?" he asked. His voice was fine and deep making Mr. Darling jump slightly.
"Y-yes. I don't believe we've met, sir... and what is the meaning of calling at this un-godly hour!" he demanded, though his legs were shaking and his courage was about to break.
The man handed his walking stick to his servant. "I am Duke Arnold Waterford VII. Father to Helen of Waterford... one of the companions to your young daughter."
Mr. and Mrs. Darling gapped at him.
"May I come in, please? There are a few things that perhaps need to be explained."
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Peter was still looking at her with those eyes that always told her nothing but the truth despite the words coming from his mouth. "I think... I think that happiness can be found if you want it. I think Ariel... I think she would be very happy with the Prince. In the land... both humans. If he'd have her."
Wendy stared at him and slowly, every so slowly a small smile came to her face. "Would Ariel really give up all she holds dear... really give it up? For love?"
Peter came closer, his upper body leaning in making the heat between them almost unbearably delicious. Staring at her lips something felt... different. His body did a reaction he had never felt before. A swift and sweet sensation right under his stomach almost made him jump.
"For love... perhaps I was a bit rash when I mentioned before that I hated it."
Wendy gave him a full smile that made his lower abdomen jump once more and he started feeling... uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. But a feeling of incompleteness and longing swept over him.
The need to please her so that she would be happy. Happy with him.
"I could make you happy, Wendy," he told her, his eyes wide and so close to hers.
Her eyes softened.
"I could... if you would simply let me try. I'll be a man--"
"Peter, you're already a man." she told him.
He looked down at himself. "I don't know how... I never intended to make myself a man... I never let myself be caught."
"Love caught you, Peter. The type of love that only grown-ups feel. You felt an adult emotion, Peter. That is why, I believe... you're growing up." she told him softly. "Once you feel a certain way... see certain things...." her mind went to the events of the past two weeks. "... you can never be a child again. Ever."
His eyes clouded as she looked sadly down to her hands.
"I do love you, Wendy..."
Wendy's head snapped up to look at him.
".... I think I must have loved you since the moment I first saw you... asleep in your bed. I simply didn't know what it meant. To love, that is... but somehow I knew. I knew that from that moment on my life as it was would never be the same again." he leaned in closer.
"Peter...."
He didn't let her finish as he gentle and ever so passionate kissed her. This time she responded back.
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"May I get you some tea, sir?" Mrs. Darling asked.
Lord Waterford shook his head.
"No, thank you, my dear," his brow was troubled and dark.
"George?" she asked Mr. Darling.
"No, thank you, Mary... come, sit," he motioned to the spot next to him on the settee. She quickly sat next to him, both looking on to the older man who was settling himself in their large armchair.
"Do you have any other children other than Wendy?" he asked.
Mr. and Mrs. Darling were startled at the question. "Y-yes... we have six. Six more... boys."
The man's eye brows shot up. "Dear me!"
Mrs. Darling smiled fondly. "They're all very dear, truly... but Wendy is our only girl."
Mr. Darling looking sadly at her, placing his own hands over her folded ones. "What is it that you come to speak to us about, Mr. Waterford?"
The Lord cleared his throat. "Yes... well. Helen, my daughter.... she's my only child. She alone stands to inherit all that my fathers before me have accumulated... many of which is land. Land in both Germany and Russia. Good land... desirable land." He took a deep breath. "If she's no longer... alive... the land in which would've been passed to her comes to the land of the crown. I have no other heirs... we are the last of our line."
"I don't understand what this has to do with our Wendy," Mr. Darling asked, his concern evident in his voice.
"I've had my own men tracking the children down since their disappearance... apparently the army has been alerted of their importance... they're being hunted down."
Mrs. Darling gasped.
"They must have seen something of particular interest to opposing forces and have deemed it best to discard of the children before they reach our safe borders."
"Our safe borders?" Mr. Darling asked, rather heatedly.
"George..." Mrs. Darling warned, holding on to his hands.
"They have been spotted by my men... but at the same time my men were spotted... all were killed except for one who was able to get away and send me this telegram before he died."
He took out a small paper from his coat pocket and with a slightly shaking hand gave it to Mr. Darling.
Equally nervous, Mr. Darling took it, opened it to read it's contents.
"I have spotted the girls, fifty miles north west of the school, they're dressed in peasants clothes and planning to cross the great mountain. A young man is with them, a recent addition to their party. All seem well." Mr. Darling read.
"Peter!" Mrs. Darling cried, standing up with a smile on her face. "He found her, George, he found Wendy!"
"You know this man?" Mr. Waterford cried, a bit disturbed.
"He's really only a boy... a friend of my daughter, he went in search of her when we first found out what had occurred." she explained.
Mr. Waterford's shoulders sagged. "Is a good young man... a respectable one?"
Mrs. Darling understood what he meant and nodded. "Yes... he'd die for my daughter. I know it."
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He had been staring at the scene for so long his head began to hurt.
He wondered to himself if he should really be feeling the way he was feeling. He should actually be feeling elated. He had found them... they were still alive and ready to be killed by his hand.
But he knew now there was one of them his hand would never be able to kill.
Wendy. Her name was Wendy.
He could see her face clearly from were he was standing, hiding amongst the frosty bushes and looking in to the warmth that the scene by the bonfire reflected.
Her eyes were closed and Peter kissed her. Lashed brushes her upper cheeks ever so slightly.
She was majesty in it's own. Simply beautiful.
He truly felt sick, he must be at least three years her senior but there was no part of her that remained a child. He could tell from the light coming from her eyes.
She had seen too much, just like he had.
He wanted her.
He'd had many women in his time, mostly older than he was and all way more experienced than he... but never had he desired something so pure and perfect... needing of a real man.
Something that this boy and his infatuation could never give her.
A small smile came to his face as he brought the gun up and pointed it. Pointed it at the young man's back. Aiming straight he pressed his index finger against the trigger... and pulled.
He wondered if he should feel remorse when his beauty started screaming as Peter fell to the floor, blood covering his chest.
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TBC....
A/N: Firstly; I am sorry this took the time it did, school and RL have been really hectic and I've really not had the time to write. I know I left a nasty cliffhanger here so I'll try to have the next chapter done in a week's time or less. :) Thank you ever so for the feedback!