Disclaimer: Peter, Neverland, Hook, and Tinkerbell do not belong to me…yet. All credit for now goes to J.M Barrie, who made this wonderful ##### little boy named Peter Pan who we can all worship and adore. Rhysenn, Rhiannon, and Fyr however, are mine. So no stealing. Okay?
Chapter Two: Far Away DreamsAs soon as Maria burst into the room, she was greeted by the sight of her two daughters sleeping soundly in their beds, both breathing deeply.
She approached each of the beds, making sure the girls were sleeping. They were. She let out a content smile at her two daughters. She was overwhelmed with motherly love. Rhysenn, however, just wished she would leave.
Maria sighed with relief, checked once more, then proceeded to return to bed.
A few moments later, a very shaken Peter emerged from the armoire, his hair even messier than usual.
The twins opened their eyes and got up out of bed. Rhiannon smoothed her dress as she did so.
"That was too close for comfort," Peter said quietly as he watched Tink struggle with opening the powder canister. Apparently, she had pulled it down to avoid being discovered. Now, she could barely lift it to free herself.
Peter absentmindedly lifted the jar off of his fairy and set it down beside her, and she began to brush herself off.
"It was ever so difficult to stay in bed!" Rhiannon exclaimed, and Rhysenn cast an apologetic look at Peter. He silently acknowledged it with a small smile. "I mean, with all those exciting far away dreams that I was having! Oh Peter!"
Peter snapped to attention. "Do tell me what Neverland is like!"
At this, Rhysenn as well became interested. She couldn't help it, because if a boy as charming as Peter came from there, it must be wonderful.
Peter stood up and slowly walked towards the girls.
"Come with me," he said, "and I'll show you. Neverland is where all of your fantasies come true. If you wish it, you can fly with the great eagles, swim with the mermaids, or even fight pirates!"
Rhiannon frowned.
"But…" she said, pouting, "I'll get dirty."
Peter smiled as he let Tink perch on his shoulder.
"Not if you don't want to," he said, "there are fairy courts, where you can dance, have grand dinners, all sorts of ladylike things!"
At the mention of this, Rhiannon instantly brightened up, while Rhysenn scowled. "Rhysenn…" Peter said quietly, "what would you like to do?"
Rhysenn chewed on her lower lip. Truth was, she didn't know. She'd never thought of having any adventures.
"Peter," she asked, "are there horses?" Peter's eyes lit up.
"Better! There are Pegasus! Fabulous horses with wings! You can gallop across the prairie or fly through the clouds, all depending on your hearts desire!"
Rhysenn smiled despite herself."It…does sound rather exciting…" she said, fighting the corners of her mouth that were struggling to travel upwards even more.
"Do you want to know why you couldn't stay in bed?" Peter asked Rhysenn and Rhiannon as he stood on the ledge of the window.
They both nodded, Rhi a little more giddily so. "Happy thoughts!" Peter yelled as he took a giant leap off of the balcony.
Rhiannon screamed, then covered her mouth with her hands. "Don't worry," Peter said, catching her worry, "Grown-ups get tired when around fairies. They blame it on old age." He laughed a little.
The twins watched as Peter did flips in the air. It only took him a few moments, however, to become bored. That what was normal for him, you see. That's what's normal for little boys. A little boy, a little attention span.
"Peter," Rhi asked sweetly, "how old are you?"
All at once Peter seemed to have trouble keeping himself in the air. It felt like the words had manifested themselves into a cannon ball and had hit him square in the stomach. The weight he felt as he was flying there returned.
So he landed back on the balcony, his mouth turned slightly downward. Wendy asked me that same question… he thought as he considered what to say.
"I'm a boy, silly!" he replied with false happiness. "That's all you need to know. And I'll stay a boy forever, and have many adventures."
"But," Rhi continued, "don't you want to grow up and have wonderful dinner parties?"
Peter scoffed and folded his hands over his chest, his jaw set.
"Dinner parties? Me?" He seemed appalled at the thought. "Never."
Rhiannon appeared satisfied with the answer, although secretly she was very disappointed. She hid it well, however, by forcing herself to think happy thoughts. Her true happy thoughts. I like nothing of the world of dinner parties and dresses and romance, she thought, I belong on the stage…
She hummed a little ditty that she composed herself, about a girl who was trapped and unable to achieve her dreams, and soon she lifted into the air.
Rhysenn as well thought of her own happy thoughts: the wind whipping through her hair as she raced along on her mare, Aradia, the sound of hooves pounding on the ground, the freedom that came with it…
She rose up next to her sister. Peter, seemingly not having to try hard as well, joined them.
The sun traveled to greet the three companions as they crossed the border that divided Neverland and the mortal world. White capped waves crashed upon crystal-like coasts below, while rocks stuck up like jagged teeth from the shallower waters.
Squinting hard, Rhysenn thought she could see the beryl colored tails of mermaids as they disappeared under the waves.
Peter and her flew gracefully, Rhiannon less so. Her already heavy skirts, now damp from the ocean spray, weighed her down immensely, and she was having trouble keeping up.
"Come on Rhi!" Peter called right before he performed a tremendous and spectacular nosedive.
He was mere inches from the surface of the ocean, and spray was hitting him full force.
When he pulled up again and turned to face Rhysenn, his hair was soaked, matted down and hanging limply in his eyes. Casually he brushed the stray locks away.
As they descended down onto the cool sand, Peter crowed gloriously.
"Oh the cleverness of me!" he called out as he touched down, "Oh the wonderful clever idea I had to bring you here!"
Tink, who was preening herself on a rock, heard his comment and stomped her foot angrily. For, you see, truly it had been her idea to bring the girls to Neverland. She could not stand to see Peter so lonely and sad, so she went on a little scouting mission for him. It was her mission to find a beautiful young girl who could be Peter's new mother.
She had hated London, with its cold damp air. So instead she had traveled to Italy, much warmer.
She was so proud of herself when she had found not one girl, but two! Peter would have not one mother, like he'd hoped, but two!
"Oh Peter," Rhiannon cooed, "you are ever so smart!" She smiled, shamelessly flirting with him for the countless time that day.
Wait, Rhysenn thought as she stared up into the sky, it was night when we left.
"Peter," she called, "why is it day here?"
Peter cast a furtive look up into the sky, shielding his eyes from the bright sun as he did so. He chewed pensively on his lip, the same way Rhysenn did when she was thinking.
"There's a different sort of time system here," he told her. "and it revolves around me!" He grinnedarrogantly and crowed once more.
"Yeah," Rhysenn muttered under her breath, "seems like everything does."
Rhiannon, against her better judgement, felt a wave of jealousy well up inside of her at the sight of Peter and her sister flying together.
"It's not like she's the prettier one," she said quietly while landing.
"Peter!" she called, "I'm so tired! I don't know if I can go on any longer!" Peter turned his attention away from Rhysenn and focused instead on her sister.
"Oh, love." He replied, approaching her. She grinned, sure that she was adorable. "Do you want me to carry you or something?"
Rhiannon shook her head.
"Oh no! That would be so inconvenient." She saw her sister roll her eyes, and she squashed a triumphant laugh. "But…" she said, gazing innocently at him, "could you hold my hand? Please?"
Peter smiled softly as he took her white-gloved hand into his. Rhiannon noticed how different they were as he did so. Hers were clean and ladylike, while Peter's were so dirty and callused. And in a strange way, she wished hers were the same…
Rhiannon noticed with glee that her sister was looking quite unhappy.
Deciding that he'd rather walk than fly, which was a rarity in itself, Peter assumed the girls would do the same. Rhysenn was fine, but Rhiannon, that was another story.
Every few steps or so, she'd whimper, looking down in horror at her boots. The once pristine white was now looking more like a rugged brown.
"Oh shut it, you big baby," Rhysenn snapped, harshly shoving a branch out of her way. Peter suppressed a snicker. He happened to agree, but he forced himself to be gentlemanly.
She shrieked and clutched her one free hand to her chest, stopping dead in her tracks.
Lying directly in front of them, curled up on the ground, was a large, brown and spotted snake, apparently sleeping.
Peter, spotting a chance to show off once more, reached down and grabbed the snake by its tail. Angrily, it awoke and started hissing.
Laughing gaily, he shot up into the air, rising quickly above the treetops and traveling till he was barely in view.
Far below, Rhysenn and Rhiannon gasped in unison. "Per l'amore di Dio!" Rhysenn whispered.
They heard a distinct whistle, followed by what seemed to be a birdcall. A looming shadow suddenly covered the sun and, along with it, Peter.
The twins covered their ears with their hands as a deafening eagle screech resounded throughout the island. Fleetingly Rhysenn wondered if anyone else heard it too. It must've echoed for miles.
The shadow, or, the eagle rather, moved, bringing Peter back into view. He threw something, most likely the snake, as hard and as high as he could manage; the eagle swooped down, and caught it in its jaws.
Laughing, Peter returned to the ground and made a gigantic bow.
"Peter!" Rhiannon rushed over and began to fawn over him, "you are oh so brave!"
Peter grinned, full of himself, as was his nature.
"Aww," he said, shrugging, "it was nothing." Rhysenn had a sudden urge to run to him and fawn as well, but she squashed the desire, telling herself that he was only an arrogant little boy, a very attractive, arrogant little boy…
Peter placed his hand in Wendy's, slowly moving to the fairy music floating up from the tree. He let Wendy glide backwards, and he soon followed. Framed by the moonlight, she had looked so beautiful…she had always looked beautiful…
"Peter? Peter!" He heard a voice calling him. Wendy… he thought, slowly opening his eyes.
"Wendy? Is that you?" he asked, his vision still blurry.
"Oh Peter, you're okay!" His vision suddenly cleared, and he was staring up at the face of Rhiannon, tears in her eyes.
"You hit your head." Rhysenn stated matter-of-factly, her arms across her chest.
Peter felt a dull throbbing pain at the back of his head. Suddenly he realized he was lying down and that patches of sunlight broke through the trees and colored him mottled.
"Muh…" he said, rubbing the back of his head. Rhysenn stooped down and took his face in her hands gently. Her hands are so warm. Wendy… Peter thought.
She gave him a scolding look, and touched his forehead. He drew in a sharp breath, his forehead suddenly stinging.
"Hook!" he exclaimed, sitting bolt upright. Rhiannon and Rhysenn stared at him, thoroughly puzzled.
"What?", they asked in unison. Peter's looked around frantically for the demon that still haunted his nightmares.
"Hook…" he repeated, this time much quieter, sitting back down and closing his eyes. He realized he was sitting against a root of a very large tree…
Rhiannon started to question him again about Hook, but she was quieted by her sister's hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.
"Peter…" Rhysenn whispered, leaning down in front of him again, looking into his eyes.
He gazed back at her, and tears in his own eyes mirrored hers, full of sorrow and longing.
"Yes?" he replied, equally as quiet.
They never broke eye contact as Rhysenn told him he'd better get that nasty cut on his forehead cleaned up.
"Where is your mother?" she asked, looking this way and that, "She should be able to fix that real quick."
Peter sighed.
"I don't have one," He said, and Rhiannon gasped, eyes wide in horror. "I was hoping one of you could be my mother."
Rhiannon stared at him incredulously, while Rhysenn stared with pity. Even though she didn't particularly have a great relationship with her own mother, at least she had one, and she was grateful.
A little boy needs one most of all… she thought as she extended her hand to help Peter to his feet.
He glared at her, and didn't take her hand. He was quite certain he could get up on his own. Well, he did, sort of. It took him a few tries, and he stumbled the first time, but he eventually managed it. He thought himself the most graceful child in all of Neverland.
"I'd watch your step if I were you," growled a voice from the trees above. Rhiannon gasped and clung to Peter's arm, Peter rolling his eyes as she did so. Rhysenn just crossed her arms and glared upwards skeptically.
"Yeah?" she replied, "And what are you gonna do about it? You won't even leave the safety of your tree." Her voice was laden with scorn.
A rustle was heard up ahead, then a wild whooping war cry. Rhiannon looked up, eyes wide.
Rhysenn, however, had grabbed Peter's dagger from his belt, and was now brandishing it menacingly.
Rhysenn heard a noise behind her, and swung around quickly, the dagger held firmly in her right hand. She caught a faint hiss, then saw what she had hit.
It was a boy, a bit taller than Peter, with messy red hair that hung in his bright green eyes. His body was built different than Peter's, who was small. This boy couldn't have been older, but he looked it. He already had peach fuzz trailing down to his chin. He wore shorts made out of dark green material, that became more and more tattered the closer they got to his knees. He, like Peter, wasn't wearing any shoes.
His cheek had an inch long cut on it, and blood dribbled down onto his lip. He licked it, and approached Rhysenn, who was still holding the knife out.
Slowly, the boy reached out a calloused hand, took the knife by the blade and held it there for a moment. He then flipped it over, and stuck it in his own sheath. He grinned at Peter slyly.
All this time Rhi had been clinging to Peter for dear life, whimpering like a baby. Now, in the presence of another boy, she regained her second wind. But only after making sure he wasn't going to kill her.
"Hello," She said, holding out a gloved hand and smiling sweetly. The boy grabbed it, turned it palm up and…spit on it. His eyes narrowed in disgust as he eyed Rhiannon's frilly dress.
"I sure hope you ain't Irish," He said, eyeing her once more up and down. His vision lingered on Rhi's chest, a few moments longer than was necessary. She pulled her petticoat around her tighter, laced it up, and took off her glove.
"I'm not," She replied, sticking her nose up in the air, deciding to ignore the spitting the boy had done.
"Good," the boy replied, "because if you were I'd have to disown my country, you'd be such a disgrace to it." He mused for a moment, and then continued. "But then again, you're a disgrace to any country."
Rhi's eyes filled with tears, and both Peter and Rhysenn realized the boy had gone too far with this comment. Rhiannon hung her head in shame, crying freely now.
"Fyr," Peter said sternly, "that's enough."
The boy called Fyr smirked at Peter, and advanced towards him. Peter instinctively reached for where his dagger should've been, and the look of fear that dawned on his face when he realized he didn't have it only made Fyr smirk wider.
"A bit disadvantaged, aren't we?" He asked, pulling out Peter's dagger from his own belt.
Peter stood, hands fisted. "You know," Fyr continued, "I would give it back to you…" He approaced Rhysenn.
He grabbed her by her collar and pulled her to him, his lips capturing hers in a hard kiss.
Rhysenn gasped agains his mouth, but she didn't pull away.
It wasn't how she imagined Peter's kiss to be, soft and subtle and tasting of snow. Fyr's kiss was hard, rough, tasting of bitter herbs and salt. And what scared her the most was that she liked it.
Fyr pulled back first, breathing hard. He grinned cheekily.
"But," he said to Peter, "I never fight fair."
And in a flash, he was gone, up into the trees, melting into the shadows.
"Watch your step," Peter said as he pulled back a sheet of vines. "It's steep." He averted his eyes and swallowed the lump that was building in his throat. Wendy had fallen down this very way, landing with a thump on the floor below.
He absentmindedly held out his hand for Rhiannon, holding it tightly so she wouldn't slip. She slowly made her way downwards, and when Peter was sure she was safe, he let go.
Rhysenn was next, and Peter's attention snapped back to the current moment as she took his hand in hers. It was warm, much like Wendy's was when they had danced. Except Rhysenn's were the strong hands of someone who knew how to take care of herself, while Wendy's were the hands of a girl.
Just a little girl.
Peter held Rhysenn's gaze for a few moments, then he made sure she got down the slope safely as well. He went last, checking behind him to make sure Fyr was gone. He was, and Peter breathed a sigh of relief.
Decending the steps brought back seas of painful memories for Peter. The smell of damp leaves, stale cider, and sweat invaded his nostrils, and grew stronger and stronger the deeper he went underground.
The place looked exactly as he left it, as the Lost Boys left it. Messy. It was messy, yes, but it was home. Separate hammocks hung in random corners and under shelves. A large oak table sat in the middle of the one large room, with candles melted down so far that the wax was permanantly stuck onto it, old bread, and half drunk glasses of apple cider.
Peter went to his old chair that sat in front of the table, and threw himself into it, his legs hanging over the sides. He grabbed a sword from the pile that lay on the ground next to him and began polishing it, trying in vain to banish the memories that came with the arrival home.
"Peter," Rhiannon piped up, "where are we sleeping? You can't expect us to sleep…" She made a face of disgust as a rat crawled out of one of the hammocks, "here."
Peter put down his sword and got up. Motioning to a curtain half hidden by a large root hanging from the ceiling, he called Rhysenn and Rhi over to him.
"This," he said, pulling the curtain back, "is where you'll be sleeping." It was a large bed, with all manner of colorful blankets strewn across it. "It's my bed, so try not to mess it up too bad." Apparently, he hadn't noticed that he himself messed it up to begin with.
Rhysenn nodded, while Rhi took to examining the bed for any rats that might've been hiding. After finding none, she sat down on the bed, content. Rhysenn did the same, while Peter dissappeared out of the hole in the roof.
"Where do you think he's going this time?" Rhiannon asked, taking off her petticoat, gloves, and boots. She threw the boots in the corner, thinking that they couldn't get any dirtier. She was right. Her most prized possessions were now an ugly dirt-stained brown. She pouted.
"I dunno," Rhysenn replied, laying her head down on one of the pillows. It was soft, extremely so, and smelled just like Peter did.
But thoughts of Fyr, completely unbidden, came rushing into her head with the force of a herd of horses. His taste lingered in her mouth while Peter's scent lingered in the air around her.
It was like hearing two different kinds of music at the same time, confusing, but altogether producing a unique euphoria each time, never repeating, but always having the same effect.
She became disoriented, and closed her eyes to ward off the sudden dizziness.
"Rhysenn," Rhiannon asked, and Rhysenn mumbled in reply. "Do you love me?"
Rhysenn sat up, rubbing her temples and brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes, confused.
"Of course I do." She replied, but her sister didn't look like she felt better. "Why?"
"Nothing," Rhi replied, and laid down next to her sister.
She had thought that her problems would just vanish with the world they left behind, disappearing into the clouds and the stars and the planets.
But as usual, they followed her every step, sticking to her like a bothersome shadow. She fell into a restless sleep.
Remember to review! This took me a LONG time to write (like, 4 months), partially because I lost the floppy. Tell me though, do you like how I'm portraying Peter? And do you like Fyr? –Lil Sarah
