26/5/2004
Title: Necromancer
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: Two - Return to the Beginning
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Author's Note: Thank you to all who reviewed, you're all too kind.
Sorry for the delay, but I was sidetracked into writing part two of Casualties of Change, and only got back to this today. Beware, major fluff and stuff warning for what follows. Enjoy.
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Wendy's return to Neverland was as exhilarating and terrifying as her one and only trip when she had been a child not quite thirteen. She gripped Peter's hand until her knuckles turned white, her body as tense as a bowstring, the planets and stars turned into streaks around her, plunging them into the heart of the Never-star in a shower of light. Just as suddenly they were flung into the void, the brightness turning to dark, the very air spangled with glittering stars, surrounding them endlessly, so she could tell neither up nor down until Peter let his hand drop and ripples of water proved one surface false, a mirror to the sky above. As they flew, light started to trickle through the clouds, the sun rising behind the tallest peak, the dawn rays sweeping down it's slopes like honey spilled from a jar, the island coming alive with the return of its reason for being.
Wendy felt the air rushing past her body, felt the warmth of the sun on her face, Peter's arm around her waist. All this she felt but still her mind struggled with the confusion clouding her perceptions. She had always thought that her trip to Neverland the first time had been as real as her life before and after. But if what had just happened, did just happen, then Peter and Neverland and everything in it was just a dream, what had happened to her as a child had been -just..a..dream, a fantasy woven from her hopes and desires, her unconscious regret at having to grow up. But if that was reality, what was this place they were flying over, and why was she the only one being brought here? Did she even want to be here if she was now dead, was this her afterlife? It was all too confusing and worrying and she fretted over the logic as Peter guided them to land on a wide sandy beach, nodding palm trees shading the foreshore, crystal clear waves lapping the shell strewn beach that felt gritty and warm between her toes. As soon as she found her balance Peter withdrew his support, taking several steps away from her, his arms folding across his chest, his face holding an expression that Wendy could only describe as resigned.
Looking down at herself, she noted that once more she was clothed in her nightdress, the hem brushing her ankles, her bare toes curling into the soft grains of sand.
"Oh.......drat it......!"
"Wendy?" Peter's inquiring voice broke through the tumult of her thoughts.
"I seemed to be doomed to spend my afterlife in a nightdress...I wish I could have been wearing my new ball gown, it was so much more elegant."
She raised her head, her eyebrows creased in a frown, only to find Peter's face wreathed in smiles, his shoulders shaking with mirth.
"I don't see what's so funny......you spend your days clothed in leaves and acorns, fine for flying about and fighting, but that's not remotely practical for me, and I never got to wear it...and stop laughing at me."
"I think its a beautiful dress......" Peter chortled, flicking his eyes over Wendy's attire, his eyebrow quirking as she fumed at him. "But hardly practical for here."
"What do you mean, it's only my old nightdress......." Wendy glanced down at herself, her arms going wide to indicate her plain cotton shift only to stall in their movement, her mouth forming an oh of astonishment as she beheld her new ball gown, the full skirts now hiding her sandy toes, the close fitting bodice emphasising her slim waist and flaring hips.
Peter took advantage of her stunned silence to circle around her, his eyes approving as he raked them over her bare shoulders and the swell of her bosom above the lace edging of the bodice. "Very beautiful..."
Wendy's head shot up and she stared at Peter, her eyes rounded in surprise. "But...but....but......" Peter stepped forward and used a finger to close her mouth, her teeth clicking together as he tilted her chin.
"You never listen to a word I say......typical of a girl!" Peter clucked his tongue, a roguish glint coming into his eye as Wendy's mouth took on a militant line, forgetting her previous questions and confusion in the face of Peter's flagrant male chauvinism.
"What do you mean typical? Just how many girls have you known Peter Pan.....and for that matter, brought to this island, I'd like to know?"
Still grinning, Peter rolled his eyes, his hands coming to rest on his hips as he canted his head to one side. "I mean, how like a girl to ask a bunch of silly questions that have no relevance or logic to them. How many girls I've known is neither here nor there." Peter voice suddenly dropped an octave, as he leant towards her, his eyes turning a deeper blue as they clashed with hers. "...there's only ever been......one Wendy."
"Oh Peter," feeling a foolish rush of warmth flood her cheeks, Wendy gave in, easily wooed by his careless charm and too emotionally worn out to fight over such a pointless argument. Ducking her head, she lifted her hands, plucking at the lace and ribbons on the bodice, suddenly shy to be wearing her treasured birthday dress which revealed far more of her than she had ever done before.
"There was going to be dancing, and music and so many friends......that won't happen now will it?"
Peter shook his head, his hands now hanging at his sides, his eyes still carrying a hint of amusement, but not mocking her as she twitched her skirts, swinging them to the side and lifting them above her ankles. Slowly, as if hearing her own music, Wendy started to sway as if dancing, her feet moving over the sand, her skirts swirling gently around her as she circled first to the left, then to the right. So caught up in her pretence, she forgot about Peter until he suddenly circled her waist with his arm, his hand finding hers, his feet following hers in the movements of the waltz.
"Why Peter....you can waltz!" Again logic intruded and she frowned up at him, "Why can you waltz?"
"You would be surprised, Wendy Darling, what I've learnt in the years since you last saw me.....haven't you noticed anything different about me?"
"Well.......yes.....but as this is not real, or atleast, I don't think it's real.....I assumed that you were the way you were because that's what I wanted....isn't it?"
Peter turned her in the movements of the dance, their bodies dipping and swaying, their feet keeping time with the music in their heads.
"Partly......I am the way I am because of you.....do you remember when you kissed me on the deck of the Jolly Roger?"
"Of course......but now I realise that was a dream too....so it didn't really happen either.....did it?"
"Oh yes.....it happened.....in all the time that this world has existed, there has never been such an event as that kiss, it changed more things than you can possibly imagine."
"Oh.......I'm sorry...."
Peter gave her a lopsided smile, his eyes quizzical.
"Why are you sorry.....would you rather I was still the child you remember, still uncaring of love, unbearably conceited and deficient....just a boy?"
"You were never deficient Peter.....I was angry......hurt.....I never meant....can we stop dancing please, my head is swimming?"
Abruptly they stopped, Wendy finding the world still spinning as she rested her head against Peter's shoulder, her cheek hot against his smooth skin.
"I can't think.....I'm so confused.....am I dead....or just dreaming? Why am I here Peter.....why after all this time did you come for me?"
"Because you still believed Wendy.....you wished for this to be true, and it is. You life has started again......been renewed. Neverland is your world now, as it is mine...you can shape it, or change it, or sweep it away, but it will be forever yours."
"I don't understand!" Wendy wailed, her hands beating against his chest as she slumped, his strong arms holding her up as she wept her bewilderment against his neck. "I want to go...home!"
For a long minute Peter remained silent, Wendy's hand changing from a fist to an open palm, her fingers playing with the leaves entwined over his shoulder.
"You can't go home Wendy......you can never go home....that way is closed to you now. It was only ever a one way trip, this time. Neverland is now your home....for as long as you want to stay here."
"You mean there could be somewhere else for me?"
"No Wendy......this was always to be yours, whenever you chose to return to it."
Wendy closed her eyes, shutting out the blue sky and white sand, her senses all focused on the young man holding her so tenderly.
"Are you real Peter.....did you ever exist in my world?"
"I did once.....a long time ago......I'm now as real as your stories, as real as your imagination. Did you believe that your stories of pirates, and crocodiles and fairies were real?"
Peter felt Wendy nod her head slowly against his shoulder.
"Then accept that I am real too....that Neverland is as real and alive as you are now. Don't look any further, don't try and fit what you know from you old life into this one.....for it will never make sense. Accept the truth of what you feel.......and see, the rest is unimportant."
Slowly, Wendy raised her head, pushing away slightly but keeping within the easy embrace of Peter's arms.
"If I asked you for a kiss......would you give me one?"
A smile as bright as the rising sun stretched Peter's mobile lips and made his eyes dance with merriment.
"What is it with girls and their preoccupation with kissing!"
Outraged, Wendy parted her lips to blast him with a pithy riposte but found instead that Peter, ever the opportunist, had negated any need for speech by the simple expediency of his lips sealing hers, her body melting as he supped sweetly of her lips, his own warm and soft and incorrigibly impertinent.
When they parted a few minutes later, their lips clung for a second, Wendy blinking up at Peter in a fog of heady confusion, before she pulled back suddenly, her eyes flashing with anger.
"Who taught you to kiss like that?"
Peter sighed, his lips twitching as he tried to control his amusement at her lightening changes of mood.
"You did........don't you remember?"
"You can hardly equate that tiny kiss on the Jolly Roger with what we just did.....they're nothing alike....."
"I'm not referring to then.....that wasn't the last kiss you gave me.....in fact, the last kiss before this one was only a week or so ago, if I remember rightly."
Wendy put a hand up to her head, plainly at sea once more with his cryptic explanations.
"I didn't kiss you last week.....I haven't seen you for years."
"Yes you have Wendy......on a very regular basis, last week was..." Peter's face slipped into a wistful smirk, his eyes faraway. "You and I were back at the black castle, but instead of me flying off after we fenced.......we....er....we...."
As Wendy listened to his account of their last embrace, Wendy felt a dawning horror creep up her spine, as snatches of images suddenly careened through her minds-eye, of a dream she'd had of her and Peter at the Black castle, the dream so vivid she'd awoken flushed and breathless.
"But....but......but...." Once more she found herself without words to fill the silence. "That was a dream....only a dream.....we didn't.....you couldn't have......"
"I could....and we did....it happened....that kiss happened....."
"No......no, no, no.....that's not possible."
Overcome with mortification, several rather vivid dreams intruding on her conscience, reminding her in all their embarrassing glory of their existence, Wendy whirled around and dashed off down the beach, her skirts up around her knees as she ran, stumbling and choking, her face flaming.
The confines of her dress slowed her headlong flight very quickly, her lips parted to gasp in much needed air while she slumped against an outcrop of rocks, her hand pressed to her side against a stitch that dug into her long neglected muscles.
As she sprawled inelegantly against the hard granite, she mentally reviewed her parade of memorable dreams, some revisited more than once in the five years since she'd last visited Neverland. As a child her dreams had all been adventures, some more vivid and longer than others, but all of them tinged with the innocence of adolescence, the thrill of excitement overwhelming the desire for romance. But as Wendy grew older her focus shifted, and her dreams did too...the adventures started to take on new elements, her romantic heart wanting her to be rescued by her hero, to be held and cherished and kissed. "Oh God no.....don't let him know about those......please no." Her plea went unheeded as she dwelt on the tone and substance of some of her more recent dreams, often with her dream lover never having a face, only a body and arms and lips that thrilled her and left her shaking and trembling in her bed with an ache she didn't know what to do about.
"They're all true.......each and every one." Peter's voice made her push away from the rocks and whirl around, the owner of the voice standing a few feet away, his eyes gently mocking hers as she glared at him.
"How could you......they were private.....my dreams, mine alone......not for public exhibition!"
"Your dreams are what kept Neverland....kept me alive Wendy....don't you realise that? Do you remember when you first started telling stories about me.....where did your ideas come from....what made you invent those characters....didn't you wonder how, having never seen me, or Hook or Neverland....how we came to be?"
"I-I-I....." At Peter's telling look, Wendy paused, her pithy reply dying on her lips as she considered his question.
"I did wonder......but I forgot why....and you never came back...so I stopped telling the stories."
"You stopped telling the boys.....but you never stopped dreaming them...nearly every night you thought of me, or of Neverland....and every night I was there.....with you."
"But Peter......the boys.....the Lost Boys.....they're real, as real....I mean...if they were once dead......oh I'm not making any sense."
"Yes you are....and yes they were......dead once. But you see I broke the rules....by bringing you to the world you'd created I broke every rule in the book. I didn't mean to bring you.....I should have left and just gone back and told the boys the end of the story."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because....." Averting his eyes, Peter stared out over the ocean, recalling that far off scene in the nursery. "You looked so excited and beautiful and I think I wanted you to love me....even then."
Wendy blinked, her heart hammering. "So you broke the rules and took me to Neverland."
Peter turned his head to face her again, his eyes swirling with emotions that Wendy couldn't start to decipher. "You were right when you said that my not growing up was my biggest pretend. Before you, I didn't want anything to do with grown-ups or getting older, but after you had been there awhile I didn't want you to go....despite everything I said....you changed everything."
"I didn't mean to....I didn't realise."
"Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, you kissed me."
"Why was that bad?" Wendy asked, her own worries forgotten as she strained to hear his answer. Taking a step towards her Peter bent down until his mouth was beside her ear, his body so close she could feel the heat rising from his sunbrown skin.
"It changed everything......it changed me, something inside broke free and nothing was the same again."
Pulling back, Peter stared into her eyes, his own as fathomless and indecipherable as the stars.
"You made me want more than I had here.......I wanted to know what you knew about your world, about growing up, about adult things. You had created me, but when you kissed me......I became something more."
"Was that so bad?"
Peter smiled as her anxious expression, his thumb coming up to smooth the wrinkle between her eyes.
"No, it wasn't bad......and by living in your dreams I was able to be part of your world...albeit vicariously for the most part, but when you started to change me in your dreams....I changed here too."
"Gracious.....I did all that?"
"Yes Wendy.......you did all this....and now you are part of it again."
"But.....if I'm dead....how can this still exist?....I can't dream anymore.....I can't sleep."
"The stories you told to the boys live on, in their dreams, in their stories....you will never die....not in their memories..in your parents memories, in all the people you have known and have known you.....those dreams are eternal."
"Does that mean they will eventually come here too?"
"No....this is your Neverland.....your creation.....when the time comes, they will go to their own version of Neverland, with their own stories and dreams that they've created and desired."
"But.....I still don't.." Sighing exasperatedly, Peter placed his hand over her mouth, silencing her.
"All your questions will be answered...all in good time...but not right this second. There's a bunch of Lost boys waiting to meet you."
Pulling his hand away, Wendy drew in a deep breath, her head tilting to the side as she accepted his rebuke. "Can I ask one last question?"
Pressing his lips together, Peter gave her a resigned nod, barely restraining himself from rolling his eyes in exasperation.
Looking down at her gown, Wendy shook out the skirts, her hands smoothing over the bodice. "This is lovely, but as you say, quite impractical. Can I change it?"
"If you wish it. What would you like to wear?"
"Well...I did rather like what the fairy...." she got no further, Peter's eyebrows climbing into his hairline as he stared at her.
Looking down at herself, Wendy gasped then turned a bright pink, her hands coming up to cross over her breasts, despite the fabric covering her. It shimmered and seemed to have numerous colours in its weave, in all quite lovely, the only drawback being that it was almost completely transparent.
Wendy was mortified, Peter's face splitting into a wicked grin as she gasped and tried to cover herself quite inadequately with only two hands. The fairy dress, like the one worn by the fairy Queen in the tree, was almost translucent in the morning sun, draped enticingly around her nubile curves, highlighting and enhancing every dip and hollow.
Peter whistled appreciatively, his eyes raking up and down as Wendy glared back at him, embarrassed and furious all at once.
"You could at least look away.....any gentleman would!"
"Oh....would they?......I must say, it's an improvement on the nightdress......but not any more practical than the ball-gown."
"Turn around Peter.......now!"
Still grinning, Peter did as she asked, his broad shoulders shaking as he faced back along the beach.
"You may turn around now....."
When he faced her again, he couldn't quite hide the droop of his mouth in his disappointment at seeing her quite sensibly clothed in a simple gown that left her arms bare but covered the rest of her quite modestly.
As he opened his mouth to speak, Wendy sent him a look which caused the comment to remain unspoken, his mouth shutting hurriedly.
Instead he held out his hand, which she took, albeit reluctantly.
"They'll be waiting for us at the hidden tree. Ready?"
Nodding, Wendy tightened her grip on his fingers as he lifted them both into the air and started to fly inland, skimming the tops of the trees, taking it slowly to give her time to take it all in.
The island was as beautiful and lush as ever, the forests and trees stretching away beneath them, the tall peak of the volcano dusted with snow half way down its steep slopes. She saw smoke curling up into the morning air, presumably from the Indian camp, but Peter was drawing her away from the coast into the dense jungle interior.
"Almost there......there's been a few changes."
Wendy cast Peter a quizzical glance but he just grinned and turned his head away, leaving her wondering what he meant.
They started to descend and Wendy saw a tall tree that look vaguely like the one the Lost Boys and Peter had used for a home when she'd visited before, but with all the hanging creepers and dense bushes it was hard to tell. As they touched down, Peter let go of her hand and walked to the edge of the rough clearing. Taking his pan pipes, he played a melody and instantly a section of the ground lifted slightly, betraying a trap door cunningly hidden in the leaf litter.
"This way......we had to modify the entrance," He held a hand above his head as if measuring his height. "Got too big for the old one."
"Oh......yes.......I can see that would have been a problem." Following him, she found herself walking down a series of steps cut into the earth, the trap door fitting neatly over their heads without a chink of light showing. She felt Peter take her hand, leading her onwards, their feet scuffing against the warm earth. Very quickly she saw light ahead, soft and muted, outlining an archway that led into the main underground room, its roof still covered in twisted roots, the floor the same dirt of the stairs. She was surprised that it seemed to large and airy, her memory of the old hideout being one of rather cramped quarters for the boys with a huge dining table at the centre. Here there was no dining table, but several broad benches covered in various materials from skins to moss. She was also surprised by the fact that she could move around without her head brushing the ceiling, despite being several inches taller than the last time she'd been there. Obviously Peter must have expanded the room downwards to accommodate his altered appearance.
"Wait here.....I'll fetch the Lost Boys."
Not waiting for an answer, Peter disappeared behind a hanging skin covering another archway, leading goodness knew where.
As she looked about her, she saw that the room was not just a big communal living area, but a bedroom as well. Several beds were carved into the walls, one or two even sporting skins to act like curtains for privacy. In one corner she saw what she supposed was Peter's bed, the ledge much wider and longer than the others, thickly covered in furs of every persuasion, all heaped haphazardly, Wendy unable to work out what animals they belonged to without a closer inspection.
Voices coming from the other room forestalled any more curiosity, her ears picking up the piping sounds of children interspersed with the deeper timbre of Peter replying. She smoothed her dress, not at all sure of what to expect.
Peter entered first, glancing warmly at Wendy, holding the skin curtain to the side to allow the children beyond to come into the main room. At first, nobody appeared, and Peter beckoned with his fingers for someone to come forward.
"This is Pebble.....he can't remember his name from before, so he picked Pebble for himself." A grubby face peaked around the corner of the curtain under Peter's arm, the tousled black head a riot of loose curls above dark eyes. After an encouraging smile from Peter the child, roughly eight or nine years she guessed, shuffled into the room, casting brief glances at Wendy before rushing across the room and diving into one of the curtained beds before Wendy could say hello. Peter shrugged and gave a self-deprecating smile. "He's a little shy."
Choosing to ignore the dark eyes peeping at her from the alcove, Wendy turned her attention to the next entrant.
"This is Twig, he's the eldest of the younger boys....likes to keep them in order, don'tcha' Twig?" Peter ruffled the toffee coloured mop of the boy who appeared, the lad flinching away from Peter's hand, grimacing at the attention. Peter only chuckled and pushed the boy forward.
"Hello Twig...I'm Wendy."
"I know who you are......Peter's told us all about you. Are you going to make us wash every day?"
"Well.....ur....don't you think its a good idea to be clean?"
"No I don't....and the others don't either......you can't make us wash if we don't want to."
Wendy recoiled slightly from the boys animosity, her eyes finding Peter's who raised his hands in a helpless shrug.
"Well I'm not here to make you wash or do anything you don't want to."
"You aren't? But Peter said....."
"Yes Twig.....what did Peter say?"
Swallowing, Twig dropped his head and dug his grubby toes into the dirt of the floor. He mumbled something but Wendy couldn't make it out, eventually bending down to try and see the boys' face.
"Tell me Twig.....what did Peter say?"
"That you were going to be our Mother...." Suddenly his head shot up and Twig stepped forward, bringing him almost up against Wendy, his head as high as her shoulder, his face set and angry, "We don't need no stinkin' mother.....we do very well on our own....so you can just fly back to wherever you came from and leave us alone!"
Peter had moved forward at the boys' outburst, his face angry, but Wendy gestured for him to stay back. Twig looked to be the same age she had been when she first came to Neverland, his moss green eyes daring her to try anything, his body tense as Wendy took a step back and sat down on a stool, her demeanour calm and patient. She had had plenty of experience dealing with recalcitrant small boys, their little power plays and changeable behaviour.
"I haven't come here to be your Mother.....not if you don't want me to. I didn't even know I was coming to Neverland until today. I'm sure you've done an excellent job looking after the Lost Boys, Twig, and I'm happy to leave all that responsibility for their care with you. I'm sure I'll have lots to do with exploring the island and making a home for myself somewhere."
Twig looked at her, not sure how to reply. He'd been sure she would get angry and try to make him do something, anything, but instead she'd praised him and told him she wouldn't change a thing.
"You're not like any girl I've known.......why is that?"
"Well.....I don't know what sort of girls you've known Twig. I'm sure Peter has told you that the first time I came here the Lost Boys did want me to be they're Mother, but it was only pretend. I wasn't much older than you, too young to be a real Mother."
"What did you do then?"
"Well....in between fighting Captain Hook's pirates, and talking to the mermaids and playing with the Indians.....there wasn't alot of time to do very much. I told them stories, helped gather food...all sorts of things like that."
Intrigued despite himself, Twig sat cross-legged on the floor and stared up at Wendy.
"Did you really fight Pirates?"
"Well yes......at the Black Castle and on the Jolly Roger."
Twig asked her to tell him about the Black Castle, and while she related the tale, another figure inched it's way into the room, the child being not much more than five or six and as fair as Pebble was dark. Careful not to catch the newcomer's eye, Wendy focused entirely on Twig. As she continued, the new child sidled up and sat next to Twig, its blue eyes round as it listened intently. Welcoming the new child with a warm smile, Wendy carried on with her tale, the small group eventually joined by Pebble, his dark, thickly lashed eyes as rapt as the others, one finger finding a home in his mouth which he sucked contentedly.
Keeping her attention focused on the three children, she didn't see the fourth until she was standing directly in front of her. Wendy broke off her story, waiting patiently for the child to sit.
"My names Bane......I'm not a Lost Boy....I'm a Lost Girl."
"I can see that Bane.....and a very pretty one too."
Bane was a girl in her early teens, her pale blond hair laying loose on her shoulders like spun gold. Her eyes were a rich brown, currently appraising Wendy in a similar fashion, holding a faintly derisive gleam in their dark depths, as if finding Wendy wanting in some way.
"Would you like to sit down and hear the rest of the story?" Wendy asked at last, indicating the floor next to Twig.
"No.....stories are for babies......and don't think you can steal Peter from me, either. He's mine, has been for ages and I'll kill you if you try anything."
Startled at the girls vehemence, Wendy looked over at Peter, who grimaced and shook his head.
"I see......well Bane.....as I told Twig, I won't be staying where I'm not wanted......and I certainly don't take kindly to threats against my life two minutes after I meet someone. I suggest that if you don't want to hear the story, you take yourself off somewhere so that the others can." Putting on her best "Miss Fulsom" face, Wendy returned the girls stare, her blue eyes unflinching in the face of the girls open hostility.
It was Bane who broke the deadlock, flinging herself away from Wendy and flouncing out of the room, sending Peter a dark look before the curtain dropped into place behind her.
"I'm sorry about Bane.....she usually not so.......prickly." Peter explained, sighing gustily as he sat down heavily on one of the sleeping couches. "She's been here the longest and I think she has......um.......a crush on me." He tried to look mournful, as if much put upon.
"How clever of you to notice." Wendy's wry tone brought a smile to Peter's lips, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. The younger children watched the exchange with interest. They'd heard so much about the Wendy lady from Peter and were impressed with the way she'd handled Bane, the girl often making the younger children's lives difficult at times with her sudden flares of temper and cruel pranks.
"Is this all of them Peter.....or should I brace myself for more of the same?"
"There's two others, the older boys are out hunting at this time of the day, hunting or fishing, I can never remember which."
"Fishing." Volunteered Twig.
"Thank you Twig, knew you'd know. Anyway, Briggs is the eldest and Topper about a month or so younger than him."
"Briggs is in love with Bane, but she won't give him a kiss....despite him asking her everso many times." The blond child chimed in, grinning toothily up at Wendy, "I'm Pip."
"Hello Pip.....thank you for telling me about Briggs....er...and Bane.....now, would you like me to finish telling you about my adventure at the Black Castle?"
A chorus of piping voices urged her to carry on, Peter getting to his feet as Wendy launched back into the tale, Twig having told her where she'd got up to, just in case she'd forgotten.
Leaving Wendy with the younger children, Peter passed through the arch into the next room, finding Bane standing with her back to him, her arms crossed over her chest.
"You weren't exactly polite Bane."
The girl spun around, her gilt-blond hair whirling around her face.
"She's only here to take you from me.....it's not fair.....I've been here the longest....you're mine.....not hers!"
Not wanting to hurt the young girls feelings, Peter stepped up to her and put his hands on her shoulders, shaking her a little.
"That's not true Bane.......you know that. This world is Wendy's world, you know that from what I've told you....which makes me Wendy's as well. I was never meant for you Bane.....I'm too grown up for you now."
"And that's her fault too.....you weren't so big when I came here....you were like me.....now you're all tall, and hairy and horrible!"
"Thank you for shredding what was left of my ego Bane," Peter smiled down at the tearful girl in front of him, his hands still resting on her shoulders. But Bane wasn't to be placated. She twisted and dislodged Peter's hands, stepping back to glare up at him, her bottom lip trembling as she fought back her tears.
"I won't let her have you......I don't care if this is her world, it's my world too.....you brought me here......you took care of me.....I don't want anyone else."
"Bane......" Peter reached for her again but she darted away, ducking around a tree root and disappearing into a tunnel that led up to the surface. Peter stood there for a moment, his hands hanging by his side. It was his own fault that Bane was behaving this way. She was quite right, he had taken care of her, treated her in his usual cavalier fashion, not realising that the impressionable girl had nursed an adolescent crush on him, all her emotions focused on him and no-one else. Peter hadn't recognised the signs, his own attention entirely focused on events outside Neverland, never seeing what was happening under his very nose. He heard the curtain rustle behind him, Wendy coming to stand next to him, her hand resting on his arm, sending delicious shivers up his limb and all over his body.
"I heard Peter.....just give her time....she'll get over it....she just needs time."
"I remember you had a crush on a boy when you were about her age."
"Good grief, do I have no secrets?"
"Not from me......I remember you brought him along on one of our adventures....but he didn't like it much....in fact....."
"He wet himself when the crocodile chased us." Wendy laughingly ended the anecdote, remembering that fact but little else of that particular adventure.
"You weren't so impressed with him after that."
"Poor Thomas....he was the brother of one of the girls at school."
"I know...."
"Anyway...this is all beside the point. Bane will come to terms with things....eventually....." She paused, biting her lip. "Unless you would prefer her to be here instead of...." She stopped, unable to continue, picturing Peter kissing the beautiful blond girl, a frown marring her forehead.
"What's the matter?" Peter saw the frown and peered intently into her face, noting her heightened colour.
"Peter.....how much have you changed....I mean......what do you feel for that girl?"
"I don't know.......I guess.....she's one of the Lost Boys, the first to arrive of this lot.....she was so scared and vulnerable, I was already growing, visiting you every night." Peter stopped, "I feel for her the way I did for Tootles and Curly and Nibs......they're the Lost boys....I take care of them, I'm responsible for them."
"You love them."
"Yes.....I suppose I do....you once asked me about feelings.....a long time ago. I was afraid then to even speak of them....I thought they were only for grown ups, that boys weren't supposed to feel, weren't supposed to love. But then you came and turned all those ideas topsy-turvy. The more I became a part of your world, the more I wanted to know about love, wanted to be loved."
"You are loved Peter......certainly by that girl."
"And by you?"
Wendy returned his intent look with eyes that swam with so many conflicting emotions he found himself drawn towards her, his face lowering to hers, their lips touching only feather-light at first, Wendy's eyes closing as he pressed more firmly, his tongued sweeping across her bottom lip, hers parting to let him deepen the kiss until she felt she was drowning, her arms clinging about his neck, his arms about her back, holding her crushed against him.
Breaking apart minutes later, Wendy blinked up at him, bemused at the sensations coursing through her, so like her dreams but also so much more.
"Yes Peter......by me as well."
Grinning triumphantly, Peter picked her up and swung her around, her upper body squashed against his chest, her legs flying out behind her as he twirled them around, Wendy's arms holding tight to his neck.
"Peter!"
"I knew you did.......I just knew it....."
The sound of laughter stopped the giddy whirling, Peter and Wendy finding themselves the object of three pairs of laughing eyes as the younger children crowded the doorway, avidly watching them.
"Does this mean your going to stay with us?" Asked Twig.
Disentangling herself from Peter's arms, Wendy turned to face the three children.
"Would you like me to stay?"
She watched as the three children held a silent conference, exchanging loaded looks before facing her again.
Twig stepped forward, his eyes narrowed. "Will you make us wash all the time....and tidy our beds.....and.....and....."
"I will only ask you to wash before you eat.....and if you want to sleep in a rumpled bed with grit and bugs, that's your choice."
Twig appeared to consider her reply. After a second his frown turned to a smile. "Yes please....we'd like you to stay."
The other two started to whoop and holler, leaping about like frogs while Wendy and Peter watched indulgently. Leaning towards him, Wendy spoke in an aside, her eyes still watching the youngsters gamble about the room.
"We'll have to sort out somewhere for me to sleep Peter."
"Already sorted.......my bed's big enough for two....and the nights get cold even here."
Wendy met his laughing eyes with a startled look.
"Are you suggesting......I mean.....do you expect....oh good grief, I can't sleep with you....it wouldn't be....proper!"
"You still don't understand do you......everything "proper" has been left in your old life.....it's dead and gone. Here everything is proper, everything is as you dreamed it......and you will sleep with me.....it'll be just like when we camped out among the whisper trees, remember?"
Wendy watched a smug smile curl Peter's mouth, her heart starting to thump as images of that particular adventure started to present themselves, their activities in that dream bringing a fiery red glow to her cheeks as she stared back at him, her lips separating on a gasp.
Leaning down, Peter kissed her parted lips, grinning cheekily before leaving her standing in the middle of the room, still blushing, her hand pressed against her rosy cheek.
"Oh Lord....."
Gathering her scattered wits about her, Wendy slowly followed him, the curtain dropping behind her, the room once more empty.
In the tunnel under the tree roots, Bane pushed herself back up the slippery shaft to the surface, bracing her feet against the walls, grunting as she worked her way upwards. She had heard and seen everything, her eyes burning with unshed tears as she pushed open the trapdoor and rolled through it onto the leaf strewn ground, laying on her back for a second before clambering to her feet.
"You won't win.....you won't win this time.......you had your chance and you threw it away....now it's my turn...and I'll kill you if you come between us."
Pulling her knife from her belt, she drew a line across her forearm, the blade leaving a red trail in it's wake, her muscles flexing as she watched the thin ribbons roll along her skin before dripping to the leaves below. With a flick of her knife she carved an semi-circle against the straight line, creating a crude "P" on her skin. Tucking her blade back into her belt, she watched the blood clot and scab, leaving a raised wound on the smooth skin of her inner forearm.
"Just you watch out, you may think he loves you.....but he'll forget you soon enough......I'll make sure of that."
Turning around, her long hair swirling around her shoulders, Bane stalked out of the clearing, her back rigid, her head high.
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(hmmmmmm.....the plot thickens......still with me? Oh good......)
Title: Necromancer
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: Two - Return to the Beginning
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Author's Note: Thank you to all who reviewed, you're all too kind.
Sorry for the delay, but I was sidetracked into writing part two of Casualties of Change, and only got back to this today. Beware, major fluff and stuff warning for what follows. Enjoy.
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Wendy's return to Neverland was as exhilarating and terrifying as her one and only trip when she had been a child not quite thirteen. She gripped Peter's hand until her knuckles turned white, her body as tense as a bowstring, the planets and stars turned into streaks around her, plunging them into the heart of the Never-star in a shower of light. Just as suddenly they were flung into the void, the brightness turning to dark, the very air spangled with glittering stars, surrounding them endlessly, so she could tell neither up nor down until Peter let his hand drop and ripples of water proved one surface false, a mirror to the sky above. As they flew, light started to trickle through the clouds, the sun rising behind the tallest peak, the dawn rays sweeping down it's slopes like honey spilled from a jar, the island coming alive with the return of its reason for being.
Wendy felt the air rushing past her body, felt the warmth of the sun on her face, Peter's arm around her waist. All this she felt but still her mind struggled with the confusion clouding her perceptions. She had always thought that her trip to Neverland the first time had been as real as her life before and after. But if what had just happened, did just happen, then Peter and Neverland and everything in it was just a dream, what had happened to her as a child had been -just..a..dream, a fantasy woven from her hopes and desires, her unconscious regret at having to grow up. But if that was reality, what was this place they were flying over, and why was she the only one being brought here? Did she even want to be here if she was now dead, was this her afterlife? It was all too confusing and worrying and she fretted over the logic as Peter guided them to land on a wide sandy beach, nodding palm trees shading the foreshore, crystal clear waves lapping the shell strewn beach that felt gritty and warm between her toes. As soon as she found her balance Peter withdrew his support, taking several steps away from her, his arms folding across his chest, his face holding an expression that Wendy could only describe as resigned.
Looking down at herself, she noted that once more she was clothed in her nightdress, the hem brushing her ankles, her bare toes curling into the soft grains of sand.
"Oh.......drat it......!"
"Wendy?" Peter's inquiring voice broke through the tumult of her thoughts.
"I seemed to be doomed to spend my afterlife in a nightdress...I wish I could have been wearing my new ball gown, it was so much more elegant."
She raised her head, her eyebrows creased in a frown, only to find Peter's face wreathed in smiles, his shoulders shaking with mirth.
"I don't see what's so funny......you spend your days clothed in leaves and acorns, fine for flying about and fighting, but that's not remotely practical for me, and I never got to wear it...and stop laughing at me."
"I think its a beautiful dress......" Peter chortled, flicking his eyes over Wendy's attire, his eyebrow quirking as she fumed at him. "But hardly practical for here."
"What do you mean, it's only my old nightdress......." Wendy glanced down at herself, her arms going wide to indicate her plain cotton shift only to stall in their movement, her mouth forming an oh of astonishment as she beheld her new ball gown, the full skirts now hiding her sandy toes, the close fitting bodice emphasising her slim waist and flaring hips.
Peter took advantage of her stunned silence to circle around her, his eyes approving as he raked them over her bare shoulders and the swell of her bosom above the lace edging of the bodice. "Very beautiful..."
Wendy's head shot up and she stared at Peter, her eyes rounded in surprise. "But...but....but......" Peter stepped forward and used a finger to close her mouth, her teeth clicking together as he tilted her chin.
"You never listen to a word I say......typical of a girl!" Peter clucked his tongue, a roguish glint coming into his eye as Wendy's mouth took on a militant line, forgetting her previous questions and confusion in the face of Peter's flagrant male chauvinism.
"What do you mean typical? Just how many girls have you known Peter Pan.....and for that matter, brought to this island, I'd like to know?"
Still grinning, Peter rolled his eyes, his hands coming to rest on his hips as he canted his head to one side. "I mean, how like a girl to ask a bunch of silly questions that have no relevance or logic to them. How many girls I've known is neither here nor there." Peter voice suddenly dropped an octave, as he leant towards her, his eyes turning a deeper blue as they clashed with hers. "...there's only ever been......one Wendy."
"Oh Peter," feeling a foolish rush of warmth flood her cheeks, Wendy gave in, easily wooed by his careless charm and too emotionally worn out to fight over such a pointless argument. Ducking her head, she lifted her hands, plucking at the lace and ribbons on the bodice, suddenly shy to be wearing her treasured birthday dress which revealed far more of her than she had ever done before.
"There was going to be dancing, and music and so many friends......that won't happen now will it?"
Peter shook his head, his hands now hanging at his sides, his eyes still carrying a hint of amusement, but not mocking her as she twitched her skirts, swinging them to the side and lifting them above her ankles. Slowly, as if hearing her own music, Wendy started to sway as if dancing, her feet moving over the sand, her skirts swirling gently around her as she circled first to the left, then to the right. So caught up in her pretence, she forgot about Peter until he suddenly circled her waist with his arm, his hand finding hers, his feet following hers in the movements of the waltz.
"Why Peter....you can waltz!" Again logic intruded and she frowned up at him, "Why can you waltz?"
"You would be surprised, Wendy Darling, what I've learnt in the years since you last saw me.....haven't you noticed anything different about me?"
"Well.......yes.....but as this is not real, or atleast, I don't think it's real.....I assumed that you were the way you were because that's what I wanted....isn't it?"
Peter turned her in the movements of the dance, their bodies dipping and swaying, their feet keeping time with the music in their heads.
"Partly......I am the way I am because of you.....do you remember when you kissed me on the deck of the Jolly Roger?"
"Of course......but now I realise that was a dream too....so it didn't really happen either.....did it?"
"Oh yes.....it happened.....in all the time that this world has existed, there has never been such an event as that kiss, it changed more things than you can possibly imagine."
"Oh.......I'm sorry...."
Peter gave her a lopsided smile, his eyes quizzical.
"Why are you sorry.....would you rather I was still the child you remember, still uncaring of love, unbearably conceited and deficient....just a boy?"
"You were never deficient Peter.....I was angry......hurt.....I never meant....can we stop dancing please, my head is swimming?"
Abruptly they stopped, Wendy finding the world still spinning as she rested her head against Peter's shoulder, her cheek hot against his smooth skin.
"I can't think.....I'm so confused.....am I dead....or just dreaming? Why am I here Peter.....why after all this time did you come for me?"
"Because you still believed Wendy.....you wished for this to be true, and it is. You life has started again......been renewed. Neverland is your world now, as it is mine...you can shape it, or change it, or sweep it away, but it will be forever yours."
"I don't understand!" Wendy wailed, her hands beating against his chest as she slumped, his strong arms holding her up as she wept her bewilderment against his neck. "I want to go...home!"
For a long minute Peter remained silent, Wendy's hand changing from a fist to an open palm, her fingers playing with the leaves entwined over his shoulder.
"You can't go home Wendy......you can never go home....that way is closed to you now. It was only ever a one way trip, this time. Neverland is now your home....for as long as you want to stay here."
"You mean there could be somewhere else for me?"
"No Wendy......this was always to be yours, whenever you chose to return to it."
Wendy closed her eyes, shutting out the blue sky and white sand, her senses all focused on the young man holding her so tenderly.
"Are you real Peter.....did you ever exist in my world?"
"I did once.....a long time ago......I'm now as real as your stories, as real as your imagination. Did you believe that your stories of pirates, and crocodiles and fairies were real?"
Peter felt Wendy nod her head slowly against his shoulder.
"Then accept that I am real too....that Neverland is as real and alive as you are now. Don't look any further, don't try and fit what you know from you old life into this one.....for it will never make sense. Accept the truth of what you feel.......and see, the rest is unimportant."
Slowly, Wendy raised her head, pushing away slightly but keeping within the easy embrace of Peter's arms.
"If I asked you for a kiss......would you give me one?"
A smile as bright as the rising sun stretched Peter's mobile lips and made his eyes dance with merriment.
"What is it with girls and their preoccupation with kissing!"
Outraged, Wendy parted her lips to blast him with a pithy riposte but found instead that Peter, ever the opportunist, had negated any need for speech by the simple expediency of his lips sealing hers, her body melting as he supped sweetly of her lips, his own warm and soft and incorrigibly impertinent.
When they parted a few minutes later, their lips clung for a second, Wendy blinking up at Peter in a fog of heady confusion, before she pulled back suddenly, her eyes flashing with anger.
"Who taught you to kiss like that?"
Peter sighed, his lips twitching as he tried to control his amusement at her lightening changes of mood.
"You did........don't you remember?"
"You can hardly equate that tiny kiss on the Jolly Roger with what we just did.....they're nothing alike....."
"I'm not referring to then.....that wasn't the last kiss you gave me.....in fact, the last kiss before this one was only a week or so ago, if I remember rightly."
Wendy put a hand up to her head, plainly at sea once more with his cryptic explanations.
"I didn't kiss you last week.....I haven't seen you for years."
"Yes you have Wendy......on a very regular basis, last week was..." Peter's face slipped into a wistful smirk, his eyes faraway. "You and I were back at the black castle, but instead of me flying off after we fenced.......we....er....we...."
As Wendy listened to his account of their last embrace, Wendy felt a dawning horror creep up her spine, as snatches of images suddenly careened through her minds-eye, of a dream she'd had of her and Peter at the Black castle, the dream so vivid she'd awoken flushed and breathless.
"But....but......but...." Once more she found herself without words to fill the silence. "That was a dream....only a dream.....we didn't.....you couldn't have......"
"I could....and we did....it happened....that kiss happened....."
"No......no, no, no.....that's not possible."
Overcome with mortification, several rather vivid dreams intruding on her conscience, reminding her in all their embarrassing glory of their existence, Wendy whirled around and dashed off down the beach, her skirts up around her knees as she ran, stumbling and choking, her face flaming.
The confines of her dress slowed her headlong flight very quickly, her lips parted to gasp in much needed air while she slumped against an outcrop of rocks, her hand pressed to her side against a stitch that dug into her long neglected muscles.
As she sprawled inelegantly against the hard granite, she mentally reviewed her parade of memorable dreams, some revisited more than once in the five years since she'd last visited Neverland. As a child her dreams had all been adventures, some more vivid and longer than others, but all of them tinged with the innocence of adolescence, the thrill of excitement overwhelming the desire for romance. But as Wendy grew older her focus shifted, and her dreams did too...the adventures started to take on new elements, her romantic heart wanting her to be rescued by her hero, to be held and cherished and kissed. "Oh God no.....don't let him know about those......please no." Her plea went unheeded as she dwelt on the tone and substance of some of her more recent dreams, often with her dream lover never having a face, only a body and arms and lips that thrilled her and left her shaking and trembling in her bed with an ache she didn't know what to do about.
"They're all true.......each and every one." Peter's voice made her push away from the rocks and whirl around, the owner of the voice standing a few feet away, his eyes gently mocking hers as she glared at him.
"How could you......they were private.....my dreams, mine alone......not for public exhibition!"
"Your dreams are what kept Neverland....kept me alive Wendy....don't you realise that? Do you remember when you first started telling stories about me.....where did your ideas come from....what made you invent those characters....didn't you wonder how, having never seen me, or Hook or Neverland....how we came to be?"
"I-I-I....." At Peter's telling look, Wendy paused, her pithy reply dying on her lips as she considered his question.
"I did wonder......but I forgot why....and you never came back...so I stopped telling the stories."
"You stopped telling the boys.....but you never stopped dreaming them...nearly every night you thought of me, or of Neverland....and every night I was there.....with you."
"But Peter......the boys.....the Lost Boys.....they're real, as real....I mean...if they were once dead......oh I'm not making any sense."
"Yes you are....and yes they were......dead once. But you see I broke the rules....by bringing you to the world you'd created I broke every rule in the book. I didn't mean to bring you.....I should have left and just gone back and told the boys the end of the story."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because....." Averting his eyes, Peter stared out over the ocean, recalling that far off scene in the nursery. "You looked so excited and beautiful and I think I wanted you to love me....even then."
Wendy blinked, her heart hammering. "So you broke the rules and took me to Neverland."
Peter turned his head to face her again, his eyes swirling with emotions that Wendy couldn't start to decipher. "You were right when you said that my not growing up was my biggest pretend. Before you, I didn't want anything to do with grown-ups or getting older, but after you had been there awhile I didn't want you to go....despite everything I said....you changed everything."
"I didn't mean to....I didn't realise."
"Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, you kissed me."
"Why was that bad?" Wendy asked, her own worries forgotten as she strained to hear his answer. Taking a step towards her Peter bent down until his mouth was beside her ear, his body so close she could feel the heat rising from his sunbrown skin.
"It changed everything......it changed me, something inside broke free and nothing was the same again."
Pulling back, Peter stared into her eyes, his own as fathomless and indecipherable as the stars.
"You made me want more than I had here.......I wanted to know what you knew about your world, about growing up, about adult things. You had created me, but when you kissed me......I became something more."
"Was that so bad?"
Peter smiled as her anxious expression, his thumb coming up to smooth the wrinkle between her eyes.
"No, it wasn't bad......and by living in your dreams I was able to be part of your world...albeit vicariously for the most part, but when you started to change me in your dreams....I changed here too."
"Gracious.....I did all that?"
"Yes Wendy.......you did all this....and now you are part of it again."
"But.....if I'm dead....how can this still exist?....I can't dream anymore.....I can't sleep."
"The stories you told to the boys live on, in their dreams, in their stories....you will never die....not in their memories..in your parents memories, in all the people you have known and have known you.....those dreams are eternal."
"Does that mean they will eventually come here too?"
"No....this is your Neverland.....your creation.....when the time comes, they will go to their own version of Neverland, with their own stories and dreams that they've created and desired."
"But.....I still don't.." Sighing exasperatedly, Peter placed his hand over her mouth, silencing her.
"All your questions will be answered...all in good time...but not right this second. There's a bunch of Lost boys waiting to meet you."
Pulling his hand away, Wendy drew in a deep breath, her head tilting to the side as she accepted his rebuke. "Can I ask one last question?"
Pressing his lips together, Peter gave her a resigned nod, barely restraining himself from rolling his eyes in exasperation.
Looking down at her gown, Wendy shook out the skirts, her hands smoothing over the bodice. "This is lovely, but as you say, quite impractical. Can I change it?"
"If you wish it. What would you like to wear?"
"Well...I did rather like what the fairy...." she got no further, Peter's eyebrows climbing into his hairline as he stared at her.
Looking down at herself, Wendy gasped then turned a bright pink, her hands coming up to cross over her breasts, despite the fabric covering her. It shimmered and seemed to have numerous colours in its weave, in all quite lovely, the only drawback being that it was almost completely transparent.
Wendy was mortified, Peter's face splitting into a wicked grin as she gasped and tried to cover herself quite inadequately with only two hands. The fairy dress, like the one worn by the fairy Queen in the tree, was almost translucent in the morning sun, draped enticingly around her nubile curves, highlighting and enhancing every dip and hollow.
Peter whistled appreciatively, his eyes raking up and down as Wendy glared back at him, embarrassed and furious all at once.
"You could at least look away.....any gentleman would!"
"Oh....would they?......I must say, it's an improvement on the nightdress......but not any more practical than the ball-gown."
"Turn around Peter.......now!"
Still grinning, Peter did as she asked, his broad shoulders shaking as he faced back along the beach.
"You may turn around now....."
When he faced her again, he couldn't quite hide the droop of his mouth in his disappointment at seeing her quite sensibly clothed in a simple gown that left her arms bare but covered the rest of her quite modestly.
As he opened his mouth to speak, Wendy sent him a look which caused the comment to remain unspoken, his mouth shutting hurriedly.
Instead he held out his hand, which she took, albeit reluctantly.
"They'll be waiting for us at the hidden tree. Ready?"
Nodding, Wendy tightened her grip on his fingers as he lifted them both into the air and started to fly inland, skimming the tops of the trees, taking it slowly to give her time to take it all in.
The island was as beautiful and lush as ever, the forests and trees stretching away beneath them, the tall peak of the volcano dusted with snow half way down its steep slopes. She saw smoke curling up into the morning air, presumably from the Indian camp, but Peter was drawing her away from the coast into the dense jungle interior.
"Almost there......there's been a few changes."
Wendy cast Peter a quizzical glance but he just grinned and turned his head away, leaving her wondering what he meant.
They started to descend and Wendy saw a tall tree that look vaguely like the one the Lost Boys and Peter had used for a home when she'd visited before, but with all the hanging creepers and dense bushes it was hard to tell. As they touched down, Peter let go of her hand and walked to the edge of the rough clearing. Taking his pan pipes, he played a melody and instantly a section of the ground lifted slightly, betraying a trap door cunningly hidden in the leaf litter.
"This way......we had to modify the entrance," He held a hand above his head as if measuring his height. "Got too big for the old one."
"Oh......yes.......I can see that would have been a problem." Following him, she found herself walking down a series of steps cut into the earth, the trap door fitting neatly over their heads without a chink of light showing. She felt Peter take her hand, leading her onwards, their feet scuffing against the warm earth. Very quickly she saw light ahead, soft and muted, outlining an archway that led into the main underground room, its roof still covered in twisted roots, the floor the same dirt of the stairs. She was surprised that it seemed to large and airy, her memory of the old hideout being one of rather cramped quarters for the boys with a huge dining table at the centre. Here there was no dining table, but several broad benches covered in various materials from skins to moss. She was also surprised by the fact that she could move around without her head brushing the ceiling, despite being several inches taller than the last time she'd been there. Obviously Peter must have expanded the room downwards to accommodate his altered appearance.
"Wait here.....I'll fetch the Lost Boys."
Not waiting for an answer, Peter disappeared behind a hanging skin covering another archway, leading goodness knew where.
As she looked about her, she saw that the room was not just a big communal living area, but a bedroom as well. Several beds were carved into the walls, one or two even sporting skins to act like curtains for privacy. In one corner she saw what she supposed was Peter's bed, the ledge much wider and longer than the others, thickly covered in furs of every persuasion, all heaped haphazardly, Wendy unable to work out what animals they belonged to without a closer inspection.
Voices coming from the other room forestalled any more curiosity, her ears picking up the piping sounds of children interspersed with the deeper timbre of Peter replying. She smoothed her dress, not at all sure of what to expect.
Peter entered first, glancing warmly at Wendy, holding the skin curtain to the side to allow the children beyond to come into the main room. At first, nobody appeared, and Peter beckoned with his fingers for someone to come forward.
"This is Pebble.....he can't remember his name from before, so he picked Pebble for himself." A grubby face peaked around the corner of the curtain under Peter's arm, the tousled black head a riot of loose curls above dark eyes. After an encouraging smile from Peter the child, roughly eight or nine years she guessed, shuffled into the room, casting brief glances at Wendy before rushing across the room and diving into one of the curtained beds before Wendy could say hello. Peter shrugged and gave a self-deprecating smile. "He's a little shy."
Choosing to ignore the dark eyes peeping at her from the alcove, Wendy turned her attention to the next entrant.
"This is Twig, he's the eldest of the younger boys....likes to keep them in order, don'tcha' Twig?" Peter ruffled the toffee coloured mop of the boy who appeared, the lad flinching away from Peter's hand, grimacing at the attention. Peter only chuckled and pushed the boy forward.
"Hello Twig...I'm Wendy."
"I know who you are......Peter's told us all about you. Are you going to make us wash every day?"
"Well.....ur....don't you think its a good idea to be clean?"
"No I don't....and the others don't either......you can't make us wash if we don't want to."
Wendy recoiled slightly from the boys animosity, her eyes finding Peter's who raised his hands in a helpless shrug.
"Well I'm not here to make you wash or do anything you don't want to."
"You aren't? But Peter said....."
"Yes Twig.....what did Peter say?"
Swallowing, Twig dropped his head and dug his grubby toes into the dirt of the floor. He mumbled something but Wendy couldn't make it out, eventually bending down to try and see the boys' face.
"Tell me Twig.....what did Peter say?"
"That you were going to be our Mother...." Suddenly his head shot up and Twig stepped forward, bringing him almost up against Wendy, his head as high as her shoulder, his face set and angry, "We don't need no stinkin' mother.....we do very well on our own....so you can just fly back to wherever you came from and leave us alone!"
Peter had moved forward at the boys' outburst, his face angry, but Wendy gestured for him to stay back. Twig looked to be the same age she had been when she first came to Neverland, his moss green eyes daring her to try anything, his body tense as Wendy took a step back and sat down on a stool, her demeanour calm and patient. She had had plenty of experience dealing with recalcitrant small boys, their little power plays and changeable behaviour.
"I haven't come here to be your Mother.....not if you don't want me to. I didn't even know I was coming to Neverland until today. I'm sure you've done an excellent job looking after the Lost Boys, Twig, and I'm happy to leave all that responsibility for their care with you. I'm sure I'll have lots to do with exploring the island and making a home for myself somewhere."
Twig looked at her, not sure how to reply. He'd been sure she would get angry and try to make him do something, anything, but instead she'd praised him and told him she wouldn't change a thing.
"You're not like any girl I've known.......why is that?"
"Well.....I don't know what sort of girls you've known Twig. I'm sure Peter has told you that the first time I came here the Lost Boys did want me to be they're Mother, but it was only pretend. I wasn't much older than you, too young to be a real Mother."
"What did you do then?"
"Well....in between fighting Captain Hook's pirates, and talking to the mermaids and playing with the Indians.....there wasn't alot of time to do very much. I told them stories, helped gather food...all sorts of things like that."
Intrigued despite himself, Twig sat cross-legged on the floor and stared up at Wendy.
"Did you really fight Pirates?"
"Well yes......at the Black Castle and on the Jolly Roger."
Twig asked her to tell him about the Black Castle, and while she related the tale, another figure inched it's way into the room, the child being not much more than five or six and as fair as Pebble was dark. Careful not to catch the newcomer's eye, Wendy focused entirely on Twig. As she continued, the new child sidled up and sat next to Twig, its blue eyes round as it listened intently. Welcoming the new child with a warm smile, Wendy carried on with her tale, the small group eventually joined by Pebble, his dark, thickly lashed eyes as rapt as the others, one finger finding a home in his mouth which he sucked contentedly.
Keeping her attention focused on the three children, she didn't see the fourth until she was standing directly in front of her. Wendy broke off her story, waiting patiently for the child to sit.
"My names Bane......I'm not a Lost Boy....I'm a Lost Girl."
"I can see that Bane.....and a very pretty one too."
Bane was a girl in her early teens, her pale blond hair laying loose on her shoulders like spun gold. Her eyes were a rich brown, currently appraising Wendy in a similar fashion, holding a faintly derisive gleam in their dark depths, as if finding Wendy wanting in some way.
"Would you like to sit down and hear the rest of the story?" Wendy asked at last, indicating the floor next to Twig.
"No.....stories are for babies......and don't think you can steal Peter from me, either. He's mine, has been for ages and I'll kill you if you try anything."
Startled at the girls vehemence, Wendy looked over at Peter, who grimaced and shook his head.
"I see......well Bane.....as I told Twig, I won't be staying where I'm not wanted......and I certainly don't take kindly to threats against my life two minutes after I meet someone. I suggest that if you don't want to hear the story, you take yourself off somewhere so that the others can." Putting on her best "Miss Fulsom" face, Wendy returned the girls stare, her blue eyes unflinching in the face of the girls open hostility.
It was Bane who broke the deadlock, flinging herself away from Wendy and flouncing out of the room, sending Peter a dark look before the curtain dropped into place behind her.
"I'm sorry about Bane.....she usually not so.......prickly." Peter explained, sighing gustily as he sat down heavily on one of the sleeping couches. "She's been here the longest and I think she has......um.......a crush on me." He tried to look mournful, as if much put upon.
"How clever of you to notice." Wendy's wry tone brought a smile to Peter's lips, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. The younger children watched the exchange with interest. They'd heard so much about the Wendy lady from Peter and were impressed with the way she'd handled Bane, the girl often making the younger children's lives difficult at times with her sudden flares of temper and cruel pranks.
"Is this all of them Peter.....or should I brace myself for more of the same?"
"There's two others, the older boys are out hunting at this time of the day, hunting or fishing, I can never remember which."
"Fishing." Volunteered Twig.
"Thank you Twig, knew you'd know. Anyway, Briggs is the eldest and Topper about a month or so younger than him."
"Briggs is in love with Bane, but she won't give him a kiss....despite him asking her everso many times." The blond child chimed in, grinning toothily up at Wendy, "I'm Pip."
"Hello Pip.....thank you for telling me about Briggs....er...and Bane.....now, would you like me to finish telling you about my adventure at the Black Castle?"
A chorus of piping voices urged her to carry on, Peter getting to his feet as Wendy launched back into the tale, Twig having told her where she'd got up to, just in case she'd forgotten.
Leaving Wendy with the younger children, Peter passed through the arch into the next room, finding Bane standing with her back to him, her arms crossed over her chest.
"You weren't exactly polite Bane."
The girl spun around, her gilt-blond hair whirling around her face.
"She's only here to take you from me.....it's not fair.....I've been here the longest....you're mine.....not hers!"
Not wanting to hurt the young girls feelings, Peter stepped up to her and put his hands on her shoulders, shaking her a little.
"That's not true Bane.......you know that. This world is Wendy's world, you know that from what I've told you....which makes me Wendy's as well. I was never meant for you Bane.....I'm too grown up for you now."
"And that's her fault too.....you weren't so big when I came here....you were like me.....now you're all tall, and hairy and horrible!"
"Thank you for shredding what was left of my ego Bane," Peter smiled down at the tearful girl in front of him, his hands still resting on her shoulders. But Bane wasn't to be placated. She twisted and dislodged Peter's hands, stepping back to glare up at him, her bottom lip trembling as she fought back her tears.
"I won't let her have you......I don't care if this is her world, it's my world too.....you brought me here......you took care of me.....I don't want anyone else."
"Bane......" Peter reached for her again but she darted away, ducking around a tree root and disappearing into a tunnel that led up to the surface. Peter stood there for a moment, his hands hanging by his side. It was his own fault that Bane was behaving this way. She was quite right, he had taken care of her, treated her in his usual cavalier fashion, not realising that the impressionable girl had nursed an adolescent crush on him, all her emotions focused on him and no-one else. Peter hadn't recognised the signs, his own attention entirely focused on events outside Neverland, never seeing what was happening under his very nose. He heard the curtain rustle behind him, Wendy coming to stand next to him, her hand resting on his arm, sending delicious shivers up his limb and all over his body.
"I heard Peter.....just give her time....she'll get over it....she just needs time."
"I remember you had a crush on a boy when you were about her age."
"Good grief, do I have no secrets?"
"Not from me......I remember you brought him along on one of our adventures....but he didn't like it much....in fact....."
"He wet himself when the crocodile chased us." Wendy laughingly ended the anecdote, remembering that fact but little else of that particular adventure.
"You weren't so impressed with him after that."
"Poor Thomas....he was the brother of one of the girls at school."
"I know...."
"Anyway...this is all beside the point. Bane will come to terms with things....eventually....." She paused, biting her lip. "Unless you would prefer her to be here instead of...." She stopped, unable to continue, picturing Peter kissing the beautiful blond girl, a frown marring her forehead.
"What's the matter?" Peter saw the frown and peered intently into her face, noting her heightened colour.
"Peter.....how much have you changed....I mean......what do you feel for that girl?"
"I don't know.......I guess.....she's one of the Lost Boys, the first to arrive of this lot.....she was so scared and vulnerable, I was already growing, visiting you every night." Peter stopped, "I feel for her the way I did for Tootles and Curly and Nibs......they're the Lost boys....I take care of them, I'm responsible for them."
"You love them."
"Yes.....I suppose I do....you once asked me about feelings.....a long time ago. I was afraid then to even speak of them....I thought they were only for grown ups, that boys weren't supposed to feel, weren't supposed to love. But then you came and turned all those ideas topsy-turvy. The more I became a part of your world, the more I wanted to know about love, wanted to be loved."
"You are loved Peter......certainly by that girl."
"And by you?"
Wendy returned his intent look with eyes that swam with so many conflicting emotions he found himself drawn towards her, his face lowering to hers, their lips touching only feather-light at first, Wendy's eyes closing as he pressed more firmly, his tongued sweeping across her bottom lip, hers parting to let him deepen the kiss until she felt she was drowning, her arms clinging about his neck, his arms about her back, holding her crushed against him.
Breaking apart minutes later, Wendy blinked up at him, bemused at the sensations coursing through her, so like her dreams but also so much more.
"Yes Peter......by me as well."
Grinning triumphantly, Peter picked her up and swung her around, her upper body squashed against his chest, her legs flying out behind her as he twirled them around, Wendy's arms holding tight to his neck.
"Peter!"
"I knew you did.......I just knew it....."
The sound of laughter stopped the giddy whirling, Peter and Wendy finding themselves the object of three pairs of laughing eyes as the younger children crowded the doorway, avidly watching them.
"Does this mean your going to stay with us?" Asked Twig.
Disentangling herself from Peter's arms, Wendy turned to face the three children.
"Would you like me to stay?"
She watched as the three children held a silent conference, exchanging loaded looks before facing her again.
Twig stepped forward, his eyes narrowed. "Will you make us wash all the time....and tidy our beds.....and.....and....."
"I will only ask you to wash before you eat.....and if you want to sleep in a rumpled bed with grit and bugs, that's your choice."
Twig appeared to consider her reply. After a second his frown turned to a smile. "Yes please....we'd like you to stay."
The other two started to whoop and holler, leaping about like frogs while Wendy and Peter watched indulgently. Leaning towards him, Wendy spoke in an aside, her eyes still watching the youngsters gamble about the room.
"We'll have to sort out somewhere for me to sleep Peter."
"Already sorted.......my bed's big enough for two....and the nights get cold even here."
Wendy met his laughing eyes with a startled look.
"Are you suggesting......I mean.....do you expect....oh good grief, I can't sleep with you....it wouldn't be....proper!"
"You still don't understand do you......everything "proper" has been left in your old life.....it's dead and gone. Here everything is proper, everything is as you dreamed it......and you will sleep with me.....it'll be just like when we camped out among the whisper trees, remember?"
Wendy watched a smug smile curl Peter's mouth, her heart starting to thump as images of that particular adventure started to present themselves, their activities in that dream bringing a fiery red glow to her cheeks as she stared back at him, her lips separating on a gasp.
Leaning down, Peter kissed her parted lips, grinning cheekily before leaving her standing in the middle of the room, still blushing, her hand pressed against her rosy cheek.
"Oh Lord....."
Gathering her scattered wits about her, Wendy slowly followed him, the curtain dropping behind her, the room once more empty.
In the tunnel under the tree roots, Bane pushed herself back up the slippery shaft to the surface, bracing her feet against the walls, grunting as she worked her way upwards. She had heard and seen everything, her eyes burning with unshed tears as she pushed open the trapdoor and rolled through it onto the leaf strewn ground, laying on her back for a second before clambering to her feet.
"You won't win.....you won't win this time.......you had your chance and you threw it away....now it's my turn...and I'll kill you if you come between us."
Pulling her knife from her belt, she drew a line across her forearm, the blade leaving a red trail in it's wake, her muscles flexing as she watched the thin ribbons roll along her skin before dripping to the leaves below. With a flick of her knife she carved an semi-circle against the straight line, creating a crude "P" on her skin. Tucking her blade back into her belt, she watched the blood clot and scab, leaving a raised wound on the smooth skin of her inner forearm.
"Just you watch out, you may think he loves you.....but he'll forget you soon enough......I'll make sure of that."
Turning around, her long hair swirling around her shoulders, Bane stalked out of the clearing, her back rigid, her head high.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
(hmmmmmm.....the plot thickens......still with me? Oh good......)