Title: Island
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan. I do not own Hook.
Notes: Thanks again for Michelle and her fantastic Rufio inspiration. And thank you to Jetso, my avid reviewer! Buckets of love for you. This is not a very squee chapter, but those will come soon!
Chapter Six: Achilles Heel
Rufio lowered his sword.
The sleeping figure was unmistakably a girl. Rufio took the time to be appropriately surprised, though little was displayed on his face. His dark eyes were curious, if anything, but they were quietly so. He flipped his sword and caught it by the blade, then crept toward her.
Neverland had the ability to accentuate some things and blot out others completely. Belonging in the latter category were hormones, for Neverland was built by the dreams of children still innocent to these matters. Perhaps one could awaken certain things, if one wished, but it is needless to say that Neverland's fabric would be permanently ruffled.
Love was still quite foreign, and so those who felt it had a terrible time identifying what it was, no matter their age or maturity. In the end, Wendy was entirely too much trouble.
Rufio stopped at Wendy's feet. Hormones or no, a girl was still a very novel thing. It would not do to have her sleeping, so Rufio poked her in the shin with the butt of his sword. Wendy moaned softly. Rufio nudged again and she stirred, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
Wendy was disoriented, to say the least. She looked about, wearing an expression of sleepy disapproval. Rufio watched her patiently, waiting for the yelp of shock. It came, and she began to scramble backward. Somehow, Rufio kept himself from smirking.
'I won't hurt you,' he said flatly, offering his hand. She stilled and regarded him suspiciously. In the end, habit won, for Wendy was a victim of a society of manners. She took his hand gingerly, tugging her own away when he had helped her to her feet.
'Thank you,' she mumbled, inspecting her hand surreptitiously. Rufio did not leave, and she grew uncomfortable. What if he was a pirate? An awkward silence settled. Rufio did not seem to notice.
'What's your name?' he said, after a time. Wendy looked up suddenly and froze. He was wearing the same expression. Dash manners! She thought, but in vain, for she was speaking soon enough.
'Wendy,' her voice was short, the lack of long introduction conspicuous. Aunt Millicent would have scolded. Propriety niggled again, and she muttered after a pause. 'And yours?'
'Rufio,' he said, slowly. His eyes were different now. It was the nightmare name. It seemed strange when given so softly, for he had only ever heard it whimpered in childish longing. This was Pan's Wendy. He had listened with disinterest to the stories, but it was hard to dismiss them when they were standing flesh and bone before him. She was appropriately pretty, he noted, but went no further. This was a piece of Pan's territory that would be foolish to encroach upon.
'You are not a pirate, then?' Wendy broke the silence with some timidity. Rufio's head snapped up.
'No!' he said, crossly.
'Begging your pardon, your attire is so very odd, I could not tell.' She spoke coldly, slightly irked by the boy's forceful reply. Rufio's eyes narrowed.
'You're lucky I'm not! Girls lying alone on beaches make easy targets.'
'I am quite capable of defending myself, thank you!' It was a feeble retaliation. She was very much unarmed, and she had only a vain hope that he would not notice. The hope flickered out when she saw that he was smirking.
'With what?' Rufio was looking very smug. He had irritated her, he knew. It is among a boy's greatest delights when he finds that he can irritate a girl. He circled her with a predator's leer, dragging the hilt of his sword in the sand.
Wendy was watching the progress of the sword, but Rufio was too busy having the upper hand to notice. Needless to say, he was quite baffled when her dainty foot darted out and kicked the hilt up. She caught it and pointed the blade at his throat. Rufio blinked.
'They are not a master's hands, but they are by no means inexperienced.' Wendy spoke carefully. She was forcing him backwards, towards the trees. Rufio was marveling at her, quite stunned by this turnaround. He knew the forest well enough to move backwards through it, and so kept his eyes on her.
'How'd you get here?'
'I flew.'
'Pan brought you.' His voice dulled. Wendy noticed, but said nothing of it.
'Yes, Peter brought me.'
'Where is he now, then?' Rufio sneered, his mean streak rearing up at the mention of the name. Wendy promptly smacked his arm with the flat of the blade, and Rufio flinched. 'Ow!'
'He is occupied elsewhere.' She recovered admirably, noting that they must be nearing the Underground Home, though the forest was considerably thicker than she remembered. However, Rufio had struck a nerve, and Wendy was not one to take things quietly. She recalled his deflation of moments earlier, and spoke precisely. 'Though I do wish he would return soon. I much prefer his company to yours. Can you even fly?'
Rufio was thankful that she stopped then, for he lost the feeling in his legs, and had she kept on she would have run him clean through. His eyes were at his feet, and he waited until his vision stopped swimming to speak. He looked at her, and his eyes were burning. 'You can't either. Not without his pixie dust.' He nearly spat the last words.
'No. No, I can't,' Wendy said quietly, rather disturbed by his gaze. She lowered the sword and turned it, offering the hilt to Rufio. The atmosphere had grown much too tense for her game. Rufio's eyes cooled slightly, and he took the sword. Wendy nodded carefully. A thick silence settled. 'You are not on good terms, then?' The answer was obvious, but Wendy hated the quiet.
'Depends on your definition of "good",' Rufio muttered. Another silence, and Wendy tried again.
'I will not say it is a shame, for I cannot say I enjoy your company.' There was no malice in the words, only gentle truth. Wendy continued before it became awkward again. 'He did not mention you, or any of the new boys, now that I think on it.'
'He'd do best not to.'
'He has said nothing, I assure you.' She paused. 'But I might say something of him! Half the afternoon worn away and he is still gone! The boy is quite careless, sometimes.' Her tirade may have been out of place, but it was a pleasant change in the terse conversation.
'He doesn't think,' Rufio interjected. His voice was nearly monotone. 'Club his ears, he might listen then.'
'Oh, but he does listen!' Wendy defended earnestly at first. 'When he wants to.' The momentum crashed to a halt. She suffered a moment of the awful silence, then sighed her defeat. Wendy bowed her head and moved past him.
Rufio thought for a moment that he might catch up with her. He watched the forest swallow the white of her shift, then let his eyes fall to the sword. For a moment it seemed strange in his hand, but that soon faded. He seated himself on an obliging tree root, and one could not read his eyes.
Wendy was not long in reaching the tree. She stopped in the clearing, the tingle of memory filling her as soon as her feet touched the leaf- strewn ground. She wondered that things still clung to her, for she was under the impression that Neverland made you forget. But it was Neverland itself that things clung to, and having just arrived, Wendy was allowed brief nostalgia before she fell into the numb of timeless days.
She found the new entrance easily, crouching before the knot. The engravings of their names were warm beneath her fingers, and she wore a secret smile. Wendy pressed the 'P' and watched the door roll open, then stepped inside.
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan. I do not own Hook.
Notes: Thanks again for Michelle and her fantastic Rufio inspiration. And thank you to Jetso, my avid reviewer! Buckets of love for you. This is not a very squee chapter, but those will come soon!
Chapter Six: Achilles Heel
Rufio lowered his sword.
The sleeping figure was unmistakably a girl. Rufio took the time to be appropriately surprised, though little was displayed on his face. His dark eyes were curious, if anything, but they were quietly so. He flipped his sword and caught it by the blade, then crept toward her.
Neverland had the ability to accentuate some things and blot out others completely. Belonging in the latter category were hormones, for Neverland was built by the dreams of children still innocent to these matters. Perhaps one could awaken certain things, if one wished, but it is needless to say that Neverland's fabric would be permanently ruffled.
Love was still quite foreign, and so those who felt it had a terrible time identifying what it was, no matter their age or maturity. In the end, Wendy was entirely too much trouble.
Rufio stopped at Wendy's feet. Hormones or no, a girl was still a very novel thing. It would not do to have her sleeping, so Rufio poked her in the shin with the butt of his sword. Wendy moaned softly. Rufio nudged again and she stirred, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
Wendy was disoriented, to say the least. She looked about, wearing an expression of sleepy disapproval. Rufio watched her patiently, waiting for the yelp of shock. It came, and she began to scramble backward. Somehow, Rufio kept himself from smirking.
'I won't hurt you,' he said flatly, offering his hand. She stilled and regarded him suspiciously. In the end, habit won, for Wendy was a victim of a society of manners. She took his hand gingerly, tugging her own away when he had helped her to her feet.
'Thank you,' she mumbled, inspecting her hand surreptitiously. Rufio did not leave, and she grew uncomfortable. What if he was a pirate? An awkward silence settled. Rufio did not seem to notice.
'What's your name?' he said, after a time. Wendy looked up suddenly and froze. He was wearing the same expression. Dash manners! She thought, but in vain, for she was speaking soon enough.
'Wendy,' her voice was short, the lack of long introduction conspicuous. Aunt Millicent would have scolded. Propriety niggled again, and she muttered after a pause. 'And yours?'
'Rufio,' he said, slowly. His eyes were different now. It was the nightmare name. It seemed strange when given so softly, for he had only ever heard it whimpered in childish longing. This was Pan's Wendy. He had listened with disinterest to the stories, but it was hard to dismiss them when they were standing flesh and bone before him. She was appropriately pretty, he noted, but went no further. This was a piece of Pan's territory that would be foolish to encroach upon.
'You are not a pirate, then?' Wendy broke the silence with some timidity. Rufio's head snapped up.
'No!' he said, crossly.
'Begging your pardon, your attire is so very odd, I could not tell.' She spoke coldly, slightly irked by the boy's forceful reply. Rufio's eyes narrowed.
'You're lucky I'm not! Girls lying alone on beaches make easy targets.'
'I am quite capable of defending myself, thank you!' It was a feeble retaliation. She was very much unarmed, and she had only a vain hope that he would not notice. The hope flickered out when she saw that he was smirking.
'With what?' Rufio was looking very smug. He had irritated her, he knew. It is among a boy's greatest delights when he finds that he can irritate a girl. He circled her with a predator's leer, dragging the hilt of his sword in the sand.
Wendy was watching the progress of the sword, but Rufio was too busy having the upper hand to notice. Needless to say, he was quite baffled when her dainty foot darted out and kicked the hilt up. She caught it and pointed the blade at his throat. Rufio blinked.
'They are not a master's hands, but they are by no means inexperienced.' Wendy spoke carefully. She was forcing him backwards, towards the trees. Rufio was marveling at her, quite stunned by this turnaround. He knew the forest well enough to move backwards through it, and so kept his eyes on her.
'How'd you get here?'
'I flew.'
'Pan brought you.' His voice dulled. Wendy noticed, but said nothing of it.
'Yes, Peter brought me.'
'Where is he now, then?' Rufio sneered, his mean streak rearing up at the mention of the name. Wendy promptly smacked his arm with the flat of the blade, and Rufio flinched. 'Ow!'
'He is occupied elsewhere.' She recovered admirably, noting that they must be nearing the Underground Home, though the forest was considerably thicker than she remembered. However, Rufio had struck a nerve, and Wendy was not one to take things quietly. She recalled his deflation of moments earlier, and spoke precisely. 'Though I do wish he would return soon. I much prefer his company to yours. Can you even fly?'
Rufio was thankful that she stopped then, for he lost the feeling in his legs, and had she kept on she would have run him clean through. His eyes were at his feet, and he waited until his vision stopped swimming to speak. He looked at her, and his eyes were burning. 'You can't either. Not without his pixie dust.' He nearly spat the last words.
'No. No, I can't,' Wendy said quietly, rather disturbed by his gaze. She lowered the sword and turned it, offering the hilt to Rufio. The atmosphere had grown much too tense for her game. Rufio's eyes cooled slightly, and he took the sword. Wendy nodded carefully. A thick silence settled. 'You are not on good terms, then?' The answer was obvious, but Wendy hated the quiet.
'Depends on your definition of "good",' Rufio muttered. Another silence, and Wendy tried again.
'I will not say it is a shame, for I cannot say I enjoy your company.' There was no malice in the words, only gentle truth. Wendy continued before it became awkward again. 'He did not mention you, or any of the new boys, now that I think on it.'
'He'd do best not to.'
'He has said nothing, I assure you.' She paused. 'But I might say something of him! Half the afternoon worn away and he is still gone! The boy is quite careless, sometimes.' Her tirade may have been out of place, but it was a pleasant change in the terse conversation.
'He doesn't think,' Rufio interjected. His voice was nearly monotone. 'Club his ears, he might listen then.'
'Oh, but he does listen!' Wendy defended earnestly at first. 'When he wants to.' The momentum crashed to a halt. She suffered a moment of the awful silence, then sighed her defeat. Wendy bowed her head and moved past him.
Rufio thought for a moment that he might catch up with her. He watched the forest swallow the white of her shift, then let his eyes fall to the sword. For a moment it seemed strange in his hand, but that soon faded. He seated himself on an obliging tree root, and one could not read his eyes.
Wendy was not long in reaching the tree. She stopped in the clearing, the tingle of memory filling her as soon as her feet touched the leaf- strewn ground. She wondered that things still clung to her, for she was under the impression that Neverland made you forget. But it was Neverland itself that things clung to, and having just arrived, Wendy was allowed brief nostalgia before she fell into the numb of timeless days.
She found the new entrance easily, crouching before the knot. The engravings of their names were warm beneath her fingers, and she wore a secret smile. Wendy pressed the 'P' and watched the door roll open, then stepped inside.
