Title: Spirited Away
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: Three - Home and Away
Rating: PG13
Please Note: some reference to bodily functions and sexual connotations associated with same. It's all about the barbaric business of growing up. In other words, things are starting to be discovered.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
As Peter had predicted the storm had blown itself out the next morning. With no fire and no food, they made a sparse breakfast and set out as soon as the sun had risen to dry the worst of the wet. The slope past the boulder that had shelter their cave was slippery and muddy, Wendy and Peter making their way down as carefully as possible but even so managing to slip several times, both ending up coated in silt and grit when they reached the bottom. The valley of grasses was devastated with several trees blown over and the tall grass flattened as if by a steam roller. Where before it had been a relatively easy matter to push through the dry stalks and make their own path, with the stalks flattened it made walking almost impossible so Peter decided to follow the edge of the plain and use the cleared space at the bottom of the slopes as their path. Wendy was glad she still had the furs to wrap around her feet to protect her, as the stones and loose gravel were sharp and unstable. Finally, as the sun reached midmorning they reached the end of the scree and the end of the grass. Wendy almost sobbed in relief to see the head of the valley and the start of the forest with its soft pine needles and shady glades.
She felt dirty, smelly and in dire need of a change of linen, her dress beyond any hope of repair and her hair a tangled birds nest. Peter was in a similarly parlous state but Wendy could detect an unmistakable glint of excitement as they plunged into the dappled depths of the forest, his steps lengthening until Wendy almost had to run to keep up.
Within an hour Peter was waving his arm and indicating for Wendy to come forward and see her new home. At first she was confused, looking around the small clearing and seeing nothing, then Peter walked forward and pulled on a vine causing a bark door to rise up revealing the entrance into a hollow tree.
"If that leads to a slide I'd like you to warn me now Peter, I bruised my...er...nether regions quite badly last time." Wendy was in no mood to be jollied.
"No slide...although you can go underground if you wish. I suggest instead you climb the ladder." He pointed upwards and Wendy looked up into the branches of the tree, seeing for the first time that the tangle of leaves and vines was actually a tree house, cleverly disguised and hidden from the casual observer walking below.
Thankful beyond measure that her journey was at an end, Wendy sat down suddenly amongst the fallen leaves, her strength gone. Peter rushed over, worry creasing his forehead as he dropped to his knees.
"What is it? What's the matter?"
"I am exhausted, I'm filthy and...and I w-w-ant to g-o-o home!" Wendy wailed, all her confused feelings welling to the surface at once.
Peter fought hard to keep the smile off his face and out of his voice, aware that Wendy was at her wits end. He rubbed his chin for a moment, noticing how grubby his own hands were, as well as the rest of him.
"Would a warm bath make you feel any better?"
At the mention of the words 'warm' and 'bath' in the same sentence, Wendy's head lifted and she looked imploringly at Peter.
"Please say you're not teasing me?"
This time Peter did smile. "There's a hot spring not far from here..."
"How far?" Wendy interjected, unaware that she was clutching his arm, her nails leaving crescents on his skin.
"Just over there..." Peter pointed to a track that led off to the left.
Wendy instantly scrambled to her feet, uncaring of the leaves sticking to her legs and dress. "I'll need a change of clothes, a towel, a brush...oh and please say you have some soap?"
Peter gently pushed her in the direction of the track. "I'll get together what I have while you make your way there...go on, I won't be far behind."
Shooting him a grateful smile Wendy started to hobble towards the side of the clearing, glancing once over her shoulder before disappearing through the bushes. Well aware that he was not in much better shape, Peter dropped the pack to the ground and entered the tree. Gathering together the items Wendy had asked for he swung down a vine with them tucked under his arm and walked nonchalantly along the track Wendy had taken.
When he entered the small grotto that housed the spring, Wendy was sitting on a rock peeling the wrappings away from her feet, one foot already bare while she worked on the other. She looked up as Peter appeared and flashed him a smile.
"Is this why you built your home here?"
"One of the reasons...it was a lucky find."
Peter dropped the towel, soap and clean clothes on a large rock, well clear of the hot pool where steam was slowly curling up off the surface, a faint smell of sulphur permeating the air.
Wendy had finished removing her bandages and was struggling to undo the buttons down the back of her dress.
"Here, let me.." Peter offered. Wendy froze for a second but the lure of a warm bath overcame her natural shyness and she pulled her hair out of the way to allow Peter access to the back of her dress. Easing the material over her shoulder he brushed his fingers over the wound left by the wolf bite. Wendy flinched at the light contact, her head turning to try and look at the bite.
"It looks clean." Peter reassured her before leaving her to continue to disrobe, her back turned to him. Wendy eased her dress over her hips and let it drop to the ground, leaving her clad in her petticoats and camisole. Next she untied the tapes holding her remaining petticoats around her waist, the fabric rustling to the ground like fallen petals. Left in her bloomers and camisole Wendy crossed her arms over her chest and turned towards the pool. Peter had already slipped into the water and was sitting on the far side, partly obscured by the steam rising off the surface.
"Please turn around Peter."
"Grab the soap before you get in..." Peter called before turning his back and facing the rock wall that formed the back of the grotto. Splashing sounds told him that Wendy was entering the pool.
"You can turn around now..."
Turning his head he saw that Wendy had sunk to her shoulders in the pool, a look of bliss on her face.
"Oh Peter, this is heavenly..." Wendy breathed, her eyes closing as she sank further into the water up to her chin. Peter leant back and rested his shoulders on the rock ledge behind him, also closing his eyes and letting the warmth seep into his bones.
The soap Wendy held in her hand smelt of lilies and roses and she lathered herself lavishly, dunking her head to soak her hair before soaping that as well. Glancing across at Peter she saw that he appeared to have dozed off, his long hair unbound and swept back off his face, his head tilted back exposing his strong neck. Taking advantage of the privacy afforded by his dozing, Wendy rose up out of the water and looked down at herself in wonder, her fingers brushing over her fuller breasts, still small but well formed, her hands spanning her waist and smoothing over her rounded hips. The water had rendered her cotton underclothes almost transparent and she marveled as the amount of hair now covering her private parts as well as under her arms. Ducking back under the surface she scooped water up and washed it over her face, banishing the sheen of grime that seemed almost ingrained into her skin. As a final ablution she snapped off the stalk of a reed-like plant and used it to clean her teeth, for once missing the small tin of tooth powder and its tiny tooth-brush. Finally sweet smelling and clean all over, Wendy sank once more under the water until only her head was above the surface and settled herself to soak, the steam curling around her head as she felt the aches in her muscles fade away.
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Peter waited for the noises of washing to fade away before cracking his eyes open and peeping at Wendy through his lashes. She was resting with her head supported on a rounded rock, her eyes closed, an expression of contentment curving her lips.
While she's busied herself taking off her layers of clothing, Peter had shucked his ragged trousers and entered the pool, quickly lowering himself beneath the surface and hiding his naked state. He'd bathed many times in the pool, often walking naked from his home and returning in like manner, not concerned with his state of undress. Now that had all changed, his cheeks flushing bright red as he hurriedly removed himself to the far side of the pool, careful to avert his gaze from Wendy's semi-clad figure. Part of his embarrassment was his body's unfortunate reaction to being close to her, parts of him suddenly coming to life, his nerves tightening and tensing until he felt self-conscious and uncomfortable. It was in moments like this that he hated having no memory of his life before, of experience with dealing with a similar situation, or the hows and whys his body reacted so strangely and unpredictably. The rustle of fabric alerted him to the fact that Wendy had shed the last of her petticoats and he hurriedly looked down at the surface of the water, steam rising to partially obscure his vision as Wendy turned to face him. She had her arms crossed over her chest and was staring at him, gauging if it was safe to enter the pool. He reminded her about the soap and watched her from the corner of his eye after turning his back as she cautiously entered the water. Once in she sighed happily and announced that it was heavenly. Pleased that she was enjoying the water, he turned back and settled himself to lean against a rock, closing his eyes, apparently dozing. After a short time he heard her start to wash, the air filled with the scent of flowers as she scrubbed herself clean, dunking her head to wet her hair before attacking that as well. Eventually she was satisfied and rinsed herself off, but not before rising out of the water to inspect herself, still wearing her underclothes which were now quite transparent.
All this Peter saw through the screen of his lashes, his body tense as he tried to appear asleep but in fact watched Wendy brush her hands over her body as if discovering its dips and hollows for the first time. His eyes followed her hands and he felt breathless when he saw the shadowed darkness between her legs before she dipped back under the water, hiding it all from his curious gaze. With only his own body as a guide, he could only guess at how different a girl must be from a boy down there, having no memory of any encounters with other females to draw on. His body certainly seemed excited at what he'd seen even if his mind was having difficulty understanding the why's and wherefore's.
Until Wendy's arrival his body, down there, had had only one purpose, his time usually taken up with the process of providing the necessaries of life, with no time for more leisurely pursuits except for the occasional soaks in the hot pool. Now things, down there, were taking a vastly different interest in events, his previously functional body parts reacting in embarrassing and provoking ways that he had no way of knowing were normal or even desirable.
Now that Wendy seemed to have finished her bathing, Peter tried to relax, his body not complying until in frustration he touched himself in an attempt to force his body to stop whatever it was doing. The touch of his fingers as he wrapped them around his offending body part had quite the opposite reaction to the one he was expecting. Heat suffused his body from his toes to his crown, his body, down there, tingling and pulsing as he moved quite naturally to sooth the hardness growing between his legs. Exquisite feelings started to set his heart thumping, his hand moving more surely as he found which movement provoked the nicest results, his lips parting as he sucked in lungfuls of air as if running a race. As suddenly as he'd started his body suddenly reached a peak and he felt a shot of electricity suffuse his groin before his body pulsed in his hands, leaving him shuddering and breathless, beads of sweat dotting his forehead and upper lip.
Completely overwhelmed by the experience he sat panting, his fingers still gripping his flesh which now appeared quite happy to return to its former state.
"Are you alright Peter?"
Wendy's voice acted like a douse of cold water, Peter's eyes flying open in a panic as his face flamed. Wendy was staring at him curiously, her head canted to the side.
"Er...I'm...er...fine." Peter stuttered.
"Your face has gone red..." Wendy remarked, still giving him a quizzical look.
"I'm hot...the water's hot...its a hot pool." Peter gabbled willing her to drop the subject.
"If you say so." Giving him a look, Wendy tilted her head back to soak the hair away from her face, her hands smoothing it back sleekly. "This really makes the most wonderful bath, Peter. At home we had to make do with an ordinary bath and with all the boys you never had enough time to really soak." Lifting her arms again to smooth her hair back, Wendy rose a little out of the water, her wet camisole doing nothing to hide the dark circles of her nipples from Peter's fascinated gaze. To his horror his lax body started to harden again, the familiar tingle setting his stomach muscles knotting. Suddenly aware that she might be showing more than was decent, Wendy sank beneath the water sending ripples across the pond, steam curling up and partly obscuring Peter from her gaze.
Peter sat with his mouth hanging partly open, staring across the water at her his eyes wide. Correctly interpreting the look, Wendy frowned back at him and half turned away.
"Peter?"
"Um?"
"I think you'd better turn your back, I would like to get out now."
"What?"
"I want to get out, please turn your back!"
"Oh...er..sure." Clumsily he twisted around as requested,listening to the splashing of water behind him.
"Don't you peek Peter," Wendy cautioned as she turned her back to scramble out of the rocky pool.
Despite his best intentions Peter glanced over his shoulder and caught an eyeful of Wendy's delightfully rounded rear, her bloomers molded to her skin and hiding nothing from his riveted view as she bent down to steady herself before stepping onto the bank. Feeling faintly light headed he returned his gaze to the rocks of the grotto wall, his body now quite painfully erect and straining to be touched.
"Can I turn around yet?" He asked.
"NO!" Wendy cried out, holding the towel in front of her.
"Oh...alright."
Breathing easier, Wendy continued to dry herself, peeling off her sodden undergarments and wrapping the too small square of linen around herself. Still dripping, her skin rapidly cooling away from the warm water, she grabbed the pile of dry clothes and ducked behind a thick shrub.
"You can turn around now..." She called primly, secure that she was hidden from his eyes behind the greenery.
Very aware of his bodies tension, Peter slowly turned back to face her, hoping that his expression didn't betray what his body was doing under the water. Pinning a grin on his lips he forced himself to relax, sure that the steam still curling into the air concealed him from her view.
Reasonably sure that she was hidden, Wendy peeled off her sodden underthings, the air raising goose bumps as she quickly toweled herself off, her skin starting to tingle. Lastly she rubbed at her hair, removing the worst of the wet before discarding the towel and picking up the clothes. The bundle seemed to only contain men's clothing and Wendy wrinkled her nose at the thought of wearing breeches, but in the end her choices were limited so she donned a dark blue, heavily ruffled shirt that hung rather loosely on her slender frame almost to her knees, and a pair of black satin breeches that ended below her knee but well above her ankles. The waistline was rather loose and she gathered up the remaining articles of clothing while holding her trousers up with one hand.
Feeling as little silly in the oversized clothes, she stepped around the bush and entered the small clearing beside the pool. Peter was still on the far side, apparently still dozing amongst the curling steam.
"They'll a little large...but...nice." Wendy ventured, dropping her sodden underclothes in a heap with the towel and putting the dry clothes to one side. Peter's head had come up when she spoke and a smile curled his lips as he perused her new attire.
"The blue suits you." Was all he ventured, the smile spreading into a grin when he noticed her holding up her trousers with one hand.
Feeling her wet hair soak through the shirt, Wendy grimaced and swung her hair to the side and over her shoulder.
"I need to get this dry...I'll take the wet things back and hang them out in a patch of sunshine, they should dry quickly."
Keeping a firm grip on her waistband, Wendy gathered up the wet things and, casting a last smile over her shoulder at Peter, took the path back to the tree house.
As her slender form disappeared into the bushes once more, Peter's smile slipped from his face and his head fell back on his shoulders, his hand once more busy beneath the water as the image of Wendy's near naked form appeared in his minds eye, a groan escaping his lips as he stroked his hard flesh, bringing himself to a shattering climax that left him scarlet and breathless again.
Taking a few minutes to regain some semblance of calm, Peter reached for the bar of soap Wendy had left on a rock and leisurely soaped himself all over, standing up in the water to wash himself everywhere. Ducking his head he then soaped his hair and face, his fingers rasping over the soft bristles stubbling his cheeks and chin. Rinsing off, he finger combed his hair off his face before making his way across the pool and clambering out the other side. Using the remaining towel, he quickly wiped himself off before donning the clothes left in the pile, the shirt and trousers feeling rough against his sensitized skin. He picked up his discarded and ragged trousers and scowled at them, not sure whether to wash them or consign them to the midden. Shrugging he bundled them up with the soggy towel and, after collecting the bar of soap, padded out of the clearing and along the path to his home.
Wendy had made an impromptu washing line from a thin vine, tying it to a branch and draping her wet underclothes over it. She was currently holding up her torn and stained dress, obviously deciding what to do about it. As Peter entered the glade she turned her head and saw him holding up his equally travel stained trousers.
"I really don't know what to do for the best...I think they are both beyond repair."
Peter laughed at her sheepish expression and snagged the ruined dress from her fingers.
"I have a couple of chests full of clothes, there no need to keep these rags."
"Oh but..." Wendy started only to stop when Peter raised an eyebrow.
"I suppose you are right...I just..." She gestured down at herself, one hand still clutching her waistband. "I don't suppose you have any dresses hidden in those chests?"
"Can't say I've really checked, to tell the truth." Peter replied.
"Never mind...but I could do with a belt...to keep these up."
Tossing the wet towel to hang beside the other one on the vine, Peter snagged her free hand and tugged her towards the tree.
"Come on...time to see your new home."
Pulling open the bark door once more he led the way inside, pointing out the ladders, one going up, the other down.
"Which way?"
"Oh up please..."
Going ahead of her, Peter clambered nimbly up the ladder and waited at the top for Wendy to follow. Once she had negotiated that obstacle she found herself standing in an odd shaped room with a wooden floor, the planks arranged around the thick branches of the supporting tree. The walls were an odd mixture of flotsam and jetsam from the wreckage of the ship held together with vines and platted grasses. The room was quite large and held various bits of homemade furniture along with leather bound ship's chests with rounded lids and an odd assortment of boxes. A plank table sat against one wall with a crude bench for sitting on beside it and along the opposite wall lay a thick, sail-cloth palliasse that Peter used for sleeping on. Above their heads was the thick matt of a thatched roof made of the stalks of reeds and grasses, tightly interwoven and apparently quite waterproof.
"It's...charming Peter." Wendy finally said, noting the expectant look on his face. "You made all this yourself?"
"Kinda...I salvaged quite a bit from the stuff washed up on the shore, and the hollow tree below was already here."
"How did you find it?"
Peter fidgeted and looked away. "I don't know how...I just, kinda knew it was here."
"Oh...so, what's down below then?"
"Come on..." Once more Peter snagged her hand and almost dragged her to the hatch leading to the ladder. He led the way back to the entrance, then down the next ladder to beneath the tree. It was dark and Wendy paused half way down when she heard a scratching sound. Almost at once she saw a flame flickering, then light flooded the bottom of the ladder and she could see her way clearly again. Reaching the bottom, she found Peter lighting a series of small candle stubs and ships lanterns placed around the underground chamber.
"Gracious...did you dig this out yourself?"
"No...well not much...just the access for the ladder...the rest was already here."
The large tree above their heads had spread its roots deep into the earth but at some time the earth had collapsed and left a large chamber off to the side of the main trunk, the tap root burrowing further into the ground, clearly visible in the near side wall. The lateral support roots had spread out to the side and formed the roof of the chamber, thread like feeder roots spreading all over the walls and floor of the room and stopping any further collapse of the dirt walls.
The floor was uneven, dipping and climbing over more roots that protruded before diving underground again. In the lamplight it looked very warm and cosy with several more pieces of ship wreck converted into furniture along with another sail-cloth mattress set up on a ledge dug out of the dirt along one wall. Into one wall had been dug a series of shelves which appeared to hold food stores with several bottles and jars displayed there along with boxes obviously holding what looked like fruit and nuts. All around the walls hung various animal skins giving the room a rather barbaric look and evidence that Peter was a formidable hunter.
"When do you use this?...I mean, you already have a bed upstairs..."
"When the storms rage, or when I need to feel safe...I like it down here sometimes...it's quiet."
Rummaging in the boxes set up in his food larder, Peter picked out a bunch of slightly over-ripe bananas and handed them to Wendy. He also collected a selection of other curiously shaped fruits along with a handful of nuts. Their breakfast collected, Peter snuffed most of the candles and lanterns, leaving only two to light the room before leading the way back up to the tree house. Up top they dropped the food on the table before Peter once more descended to collect his pack and the water skin. A small barrel in one corner held fresh water and Wendy found a leather jug that she filled, along with two leather beakers. The table set, she then went over to the chests by the bed and levered open the lids to inspect the contents. They held an assortment of clothes and, to her relief, belts and boots. Pulling out a length of leather she wrapped it through the belt loops of her trousers and secured it around her waist, at last keeping her breeches from slipping off her hips. Finding nothing else of interest in that chest, she closed it and opened the next. Inside were more clothes and an assortment of personal effects, including shaving materials and what looked like clothes brushes. Unable to find a hair brush she chose one of the smaller, soft bristles clothes brushes and sat on the chest to try and bring order to her tangled locks.
When Peter returned he found her picking at a tangle that had matted the hair on one side of her head, the other side now relatively smooth from her vigorous attentions with the brush.
"You found a belt then?"
"Yes thank you...at least I don't have to worry about these falling about my ankles any more." Wendy laughed, not seeing the blush that rose in Peter's face as his over active imagination conjured up the image of Wendy standing only in the over-long blue shirt, her long pale legs bare beneath the hem.
Swallowing hard and willing his blush away, Peter settled himself at the table, angled so that he had Wendy in his line of sight, her own attention focused entirely on the battle with her hair. At last she vanquished the tangle and was able to brush her hair back to its usually glossy mane. It had dried in the warm air and now lay down her back in a cascade of honey blonde, the ends curling up slightly.
"Thank goodness that's done," she sighed, pulling the long strands out of the brush until she had a soft ball of golden hair in the palm of her hand. She looked around for somewhere to discard it and Peter pointed to the opening at the end of the room. It was a little like a balcony and looking down she could see that Peter had used it rather like a large rubbish dump, the ground below littered with discarded fruit rinds, bones and broken wood.
"Oh dear...that will never do." Wendy muttered under her breath, consigning the ball of hair to the pile but vowing to find a better way to deal with their waste.
She padded over the wooden floor to the table and perched on the bench beside Peter. He was using the hilt of his knife to crack the shells of the nuts, discarding the outers and heaping the sweet, soft kernels to one side. Wendy picked at the nuts, chewing them contentedly as Peter worked his way through the collection before eating some himself.
Inside the tree hut it was shady and cool, a faint breeze wafting in the open side and carrying with it the scents of the forest around them. Birds were calling in the branches above them and Wendy could here the faint thunder of the surf above the rustle of the leaves.
After consuming all the fruit and nuts and several beakers of the sweet water, Wendy yawned widely, her stomach full and her body clean, everything right in her world for the first time in days. Beside her Peter had folded his arms on the table and rested his head, intending only to shut his eyes for a moment, but a snore announced that he'd fallen asleep instead.
Wendy shook his shoulder. "Peter...you can't sleep here..you'll get an awful crick in your neck."
Lifting his heavy lids, Peter regarded her for a second before opening his mouth and yawning expansively.
"You're right...come on."
Ignoring her faint protest, Peter grasped Wendy's hand and rose from the table, pulling her behind him to the mattress against the wall.
"But Peter...we can't...I shouldn't..."
"It's clean..I promise..." Peter assured her, falling onto the mattress and turning on his side, patting the sailcloth invitingly.
Wendy stood undecided looking down at him. It was one thing to share body heat when you're out in the open, it's quite another to willingly share a bed with a male, the impropriety of it made her feel quite unsettled. But it did look comfortable and Peter was already half asleep, and she did want to close her eyes, just for a moment. Biting her lip she crouched down and eased herself onto the strange bed, Peter shifting to make more room for her although there was plenty already. Laying on her side, her back to Peter, Wendy felt tense and stiff, unsure of herself and convinced that she really should not be doing it and maybe she should suggest sleeping in the room downstairs instead.
As if reading her mind Peter scooted up behind her and wrapped his now familiar arm around her middle, pulling her back from the edge.
"Don't want you to fall off the edge..." He mumbled against her shoulder before dropping his head to the mattress and almost instantly falling asleep, a small snore breaking the silence.
Wendy felt her muscles relax with that snore, his arm a welcome weight around her waist, his heat against her back a comfort. Not willing to risk waking him again, she relaxed into the strange bed and gave herself up to sleep, the sound of the birds overlaid by the soft snores behind her the last thing she heard before oblivion claimed her.
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It was late afternoon when she awoke alone, the smell of something burning bringing her awake in a hurry. Scrambling to her feet she climbed down the ladder and pulled on the string that opened the door to the outside. Following her nose she saw a faint track leading off to the side behind the tree near the rubbish dump. The smell of burning was getting stronger and she could see smoke rising from the bushes ahead. As she emerged from the shrubbery she saw a strange little building, not much more than a shelter, inside which appeared to be a stone fireplace which was currently burning brightly, a stock of firewood ready to be fed into its maw stacked off to the side. A crude table was the only other piece of furniture in the open sided hut and Peter was standing at it, deftly skinning and gutting some small animal, the skin already hanging on a pole waiting to be washed and cleaned.
"Peter?"
"Supper." He announced, holding up the carcass, his hands bloody with gore.
"Rabbit?"
"Squirrel."
Gulping, Wendy tried not to think of the small furry creatures that she and her brothers had put out nuts for the last winter, watching the clever rodents work out how to carry as many as possible back to their nests.
"I did wonder what you used to cook on as there is no fireplace in the tree." Wendy commented, keeping her distance from the butchery and seating herself on a knoll of moss.
"As you say...it is a tree." Peter agreed, grinning at her. Wendy watched as he finished cleaning the three carcasses before skewering them on smooth sticks ready for cooking. Picking up a bucket, Peter then sluiced the table down as well as clean his hands and knife, much to Wendy's relief. The fire had a crude grill made out of disparate pieces of metal and Peter lay the squirrel bodies so they rested above the flames on the metal rods.
"They won't take long to cook..." Peter remarked when he noticed Wendy's interested look. "Wanna take a walk?"
"Sure...er...there was one thing I wanted to ask you...um...is there...oh dear...is there a...water closet near the tree?"
Peter looked confused, his head canting to the side as he tried to decipher what a water closet might be. Wendy, embarrassed to have to ask, colour up.
"What's a water closet?"
"Gracious, how awkward...it's where you do...your business?"
"Business?"
"Oh don't be so obtuse...you know...a chamber pot, water closet...personal business."
Understanding dawned and Peter grinned at Wendy's obvious discomfort at having to discuss such a private concern.
"Well when I'm on my travels I just..." He waved and hand.
"Yes I know that," Wendy rolled her eyes."But when you're home?"
"Over here." Peter resisted the urge to tease her further and indicated for her to follow. Still a rosy shade, Wendy walked behind him until he had circled some distance behind where she knew the tree-house was. There was another small shelter with only a roof and no sides at all. In the center was a hole in the ground with a bucket and shovel beside it. Wendy regarded it with some dismay but hid her feelings from Peter who appeared quite proud of his rough privy.
The smell of meat cooking drew them back to the cookhouse where Peter turned the skewers before once more indicating for Wendy to follow him. Leading her through the trees he remained in front of her, blocking her view of what was ahead.
"Where are we going Peter...surely..." Wendy's voice petered out when Peter stepped to the side and let her see what he'd brought her to.
"My own private cove." Peter announced, waving his hand expansively to encompass the small beach, its nodding palm trees and sparkling bay screened at each end of the beach by cliffs, the lagoon protected from rough weather by rocks that stretched across the mouth of the bay like a sea wall. Fine white sand ran down to the water's edge and tiny waves lapped at the hull of a small canoe that sat pulled up just out of the water.
"Oh Peter...it's beautiful."
"There's plenty of fish in the lagoon and the rocks keep the bigger predators out, so no sharks. There is a path over the cliffs but its a steep climb."
"It's lovely Peter...is there time for a paddle?"
"I'll go check on the supper...you..." He waved at the water, grinning.
Wendy smiled back and ran down the slope to the water, halting when she reached the water's edge. One wave pushed ahead of the others and lapped at her toes, the water quite warm and clear. A breeze lifted her hair and Wendy turned her face into it, breathing deeply of the clean, salty air, the zephyr a silky caress on her face.
This was a side of Neverland that she had not had the time to experience on her previous visit, being so caught up in their childish adventures and make-believe games. Now it was much more real and Wendy was starting to wonder if, when the opportunity ever came for her to go home, she would be able to leave Neverland, and more importantly, leave Peter.
She turned to leave the beach, her toes digging into the soft sand, but a sudden pain in her belly made her pause, her hands resting over her stomach as another twinge made itself known, her lips parting on a gasp as she bent over to relieve the pain. After a few seconds it eased and she straitened up slowly, unsure what had caused it. When it didn't re-occur she started back up the beach only to collapse when another pain lanced again through her belly making her cry out in shock at its severity. Curled up on her side, her hands pressed against her middle, Wendy could only grit her teeth and ride it out, the cramps pulsing inside her as she tried to curl herself tighter. As quickly as they'd come they eased, Wendy panting to try and relax herself. Briefly she tried to think what might be causing the cramps but another wave wiped all thought from her head as she curled up, biting her lip to prevent her crying out. When this one faded she tried to rise onto her knees, pushing against the sand with one hand while the other remained pressed to her abdomen. She was only half way up when the next one hit hard, a scream wrenched from her throat as she fell back to the sand, a rush of warmth between her legs heralding the onset of her first precipitous menstruation.
Peter had frozen for a second when he heard her scream, then he was bounding down the track and burst onto the beach to see her curled in a ball on the sand. Reaching her side he dropped to his knees and tried to see where she was hurt.
"Wendy...what is it? What's happened...where are you hurt?"
Still caught in a grip of a painful spasm Wendy could only gasp, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, her hands clutching her middle. Feeling helpless, Peter could only watch, Wendy's body relaxing fractionally as the cramp eased, her forehead smoothing as her eyes fluttered open to gaze up at him.
"I-I-ts not supposed to-to...be like this...Mother...Oh God..Mother said it would only be like...like a tummy ache."
"What? What's the matter?"
Another cramp made her shut her eyes, grit her teeth and curl up again, shifting her slightly on the sand. To Peter's shock the sand beneath her was stained red. Suddenly aware that the dark trousers were hiding a bleeding wound, Peter quickly hooked his arm under her legs, the other behind her back and lifted Wendy despite her groaning protest, the sand quite pink where she'd been laying.
"No...I'm..alright." Wendy gasped, unable to articulate what was happening to her.
"You're not alright, you're bleeding...you're hurt!"
As he carried her back to the tree house Wendy continued to make faint protests, begging him to put her down and leave her alone. Ignoring her, Peter continued on to the clearing, already working out how he'd get her up the ladder.
Wendy was mortified, ashamed that her very private initiation into womanhood was being witnessed by Peter, wishing with every fibre of her being that she was safe at home with her mother on hand to explain and sooth and help her through this rite of passage, her transition from girlhood to being truly a woman.
They reached the tree and Peter managed to get her positioned over his shoulder so he could negotiate the ladder, reaching the floor above and carefully carrying her to the mattress to lay her down. Too caught up in her bodies expurgation of the lining of her womb, Wendy didn't pay too much attention to what Peter was doing until he lay hands on her belt and tried to undo her trousers.
"NO!" Wendy almost shrieked, batting at his hands.
"You're hurt...you're bleeding..." Peter remonstrated, prying her fingers from his wrist to continue his attempt to remove her trousers.
As she was too weak from pain to put up much of a fight, Peter won the battle and managed to get the blood soaked trousers off. Wendy could only moan piteously in embarrassment and pain as she tried to cover herself with the long shirt.
"What happened? Did you cut yourself? Did you fall? What happened?"
Peter had fetched a bucket and cloths and was preparing to clean away the blood staining her legs and thighs when Wendy found the strength to sit up.
"Peter please..." She gasped, stilling his hand which had been about to lift her shirt. "Its not an injury...it's something that happens to girls...to women...ugh!" She stopped as another cramp sent her back to the mattress, Peter watching helplessly, his eyes drawn to the red blood smeared on her thighs.
"What can I do...Wendy, tell me what needs to be done?"
"There's nothing that can be done...it happens...every month...please, leave me the bucket...and...and a clean shirt..." Wendy pleaded, panting through the cramp knotting her belly.
"But..."
"Please Peter...leave me..."
Not at all convinced it was for the best, Peter nodded reluctantly, leaving the bucket and cloths by the bed and quickly finding a clean shirt from one of the chest for her. Returning to the ladder he caught and held Wendy's pain filled gaze before lowering himself down and out of her sight.
Once alone, Wendy struggled to remove her soiled shirt, both horrified and amazed at the events taking over her body. As quickly as she could she cleaned herself up, wincing as she wiped away the evidence of her induction to adulthood, her hands shaking a little as she mourned the passing of her childhood forever. Once more presentable, she donned the clean shirt after creating a pad to put between her legs from a towel she found in one of the chests. The mattress was also stained so she used some fresh water to clean that, blotting it with another towel. Exhausted she lay back down, unable to do more as her head thumped painfully with a headache.
Half an hour later Peter popped his head through the hatch to check on her and found her asleep, her pale face washed free of pain. Seeing the bucket and bloodstained rags he swallowed hard, having a tough time believing that she wasn't more seriously injured. Gathering up the blue shirt and bucket with the rags, he disposed of them outside for washing later along with the towels before returning to the tree house. The forgotten squirrels were well cooked and he carried them up to the table, busying himself with preparing the meal, his eyes glancing frequently at the girl on the mattress, ever alert in case she called for him. The late afternoon was now turning to dusk with the sun dipping towards the horizon, leaving a sky shot with crimson and purple behind it. Peter lit a couple of lanterns when it got too dark to see, the yellow light flooding the snug dwelling as he sat alone at the table and munched the cold meat and fruit supper.
Wendy awoke an hour later and asked for a drink, Peter holding it to her lips as she swallowed the cool water gratefully. She then asked for another towel, which Peter supplied before he turned his back to give her some privacy. Blushing Wendy changed her pad, folding the used one over it bloody evidence and placing it in the now empty bucket to be washed later.
"I'm sorry you had to see all that Peter...usually men aren't involved with this sort of thing."
Turning around Peter crouched next to the mattress and looked into her eyes. Wendy had ducked her head, hiding her face from him but he hooked a finger under her chin.
"What is all this about Wendy? Why were you bleeding...and why do only women do this?"
"Oh dear...this isn't at all proper for me to have this talk with you..usually the father tells the son about...all this."
"I don't have a father."
"No...I know you don't...its just...men aren't usually interested in a woman's...things."
Peter frowned at her evasiveness. "Don't you know what's happening either, is that why you won't tell me?"
"No...no...of course I know...I mean, Mother had the talk with me soon after my last birthday...its just...oh goodness this is awkward."
Peter huffed as she continued to prevaricate.
"Well I'd tell you if it was me..."
"Alright...alright, don't...badger me." Wendy rolled her eyes and sat up straighter, marshaling her thoughts. She felt completely out of her depth, her mind a jumble of theoretical knowledge and the facts now before her, the theory made real, so different from the calm approach her Mother had made it seem.
"Oh dear...I suppose I should start with that fact that girls...er...women have babies."
This time Peter was the one to roll his eyes. "I know that."
"Well because women have the babies, each month their body has to prepare for that possibility."
"Of having a baby?"
"Yes...so each month a woman's body gets ready, but if she isn't going to have one then her womb sheds its lining and it is expelled out of her...er...her...um...body."
"Oh." Peter's forehead crinkled as he tried to understand. "So this lining...what's that used for?"
"It's where the baby grows inside the woman."
"In the...what was it?"
"Womb."
"Yeah...so, if she's not having a baby, she sheds this...blood...every month?"
"Yes...it takes a few days but after that she starts to grow another lining until the next month. Then it starts all over again."
"I see...I think. What about the pain? Is it supposed to hurt like that?"
"With some people it does...Mother explained that she got really bad pains the first couple of months but not after that...so maybe it's just when you first have your monthly courses, then it settles down."
"Oh." Peter appeared to think about it. "So how does a woman stop them?"
"Well...I suppose the only way to stop them...is to have a baby."
"Do you want a baby?"
Wendy looked a little startled, her eyes flying to his.
"Why would you ask that?"
"Well...if you had a baby, then you wouldn't bleed and be in pain, would you?"
"I suppose not...but I don't want a baby right now...I'm too young."
"Are you?...Oh. So how old do you have to be to have a baby?"
"Oh goodness...I don't know...and anyway, first you have to have a husband before you can have a baby."
"Why?"
Wendy blushed, finding herself floundering.
"I-I-t's something to do...to do with what married people do...when they sleep together...it makes babies."
"But what do they do?"
"I DON'T KNOW!" Wendy shouted at him before bursting into tears.
Peter blinked, surprised at her outburst as she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to upset you."
Receiving no reply, Peter scooted closer and put his arm around her. Emboldened when she didn't pull away, Peter tugged her towards him so that her head rested against his shoulder while he rubbed small circles on her back to sooth her.
"I promise not to ask any more questions...really." Peter assured her, dropping his chin to rest it on her hair as she hiccuped into his shirt.
Pushing herself away, Wendy mopped her eyes and sniffed, regarding Peter dolefully.
"Is there anything to eat?"
Glad that she appeared to have recovered, Peter pulled her gently to her feet and guided her solicitously over to the table.
"I've had my share so eat what you want." He offered as she eyed the slightly blackened roast squirrel sitting on a leaf in front of her.
"Thank you...and Peter?"
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry to be so much trouble."
Pouring her a beaker of water, Peter grinned down at her.
"About as much trouble as a parcel of monkeys," Peter teased, sitting himself beside her as she ate. "But a lot nicer to look at."
Smiling at his compliment Wendy chewed slowly. Fearing the return of the cramps, her hand trembling slightly as she reached for the beaker of water and took a sip. Her fears remained unrealized, her abdomen not cramping once during the meal. Still feeling tender she lay back down on the mattress after changing her pad again, not feeling quite so embarrassed but still self conscious when she noticed Peter glance at the cloth as she placed it in the bucket to soak.
Laying on her side she watched as Peter cleared the table, wrapping the remains of their meal and carrying it down the ladder. When he returned he sat cross legged beside her, snuffing all but one of the lanterns so that the world shrank down to just them and the circle of light.
"Do you remember anything before Peter ?"
"No...at least nothing outside of dreams and nightmares."
"Tell me about your dreams."
Glancing down at her, Peter smiled crookedly and shrugged.
"They're all just jumbled images, feelings, faces...faces I can't put names to."
"Do you ever..." Wendy bit her lip. "Do you see my face in your dreams?"
Peter stared off across the darkened room. "No...I don't think I've ever seen your face, not before we met on the beach, that is. I do remember seeing a man's face frequently in my more memorable nightmares."
"What does he look like?"
"Dark...and dangerous with eyes that seem to glow red."
"Hook." Wendy whispered, remembering that glow appearing in the pirate captains' eyes just as he raised his hook to deliver a killing blow to Peter lying helpless on the deck.
"Why do I fight him all the time? He always has a sword in his hand and I'm always fighting him...I can never tell where, or why...but we fight endlessly..."
Still haunted by her own memories of James Hook, Wendy didn't elucidate. "What else do you dream?"
Not entirely sorry not to talk about his nightmares, Peter smiled a little before continuing. "This is going to sound...silly, but sometimes I dream of being underwater, of swimming deep underwater with fish darting around me and I feel perfectly safe, not worried about breathing or drowning, just floating and watching the fish swim by."
"That sounds a nice dream," Wendy murmured, already half asleep. "I sometimes dream that I'm in a ballroom with everyone beautifully dressed and I'm dancing, the music so loud, and I'm whirling around in someone's arms but I can't see his face, even when I look up his face is all fuzzy...but I love the dancing, its almost like flying..."
"I don't know how to dance," Peter mused, his chin resting on his knees. Looking up he saw that Wendy was watching him sleepily. "I think I'd like to dance with you...would you teach me?"
"Of course...I think I'd like to dance with you again..."
Peter gave her a quizzical look. "Again?"
"It seems so long ago...but you and I danced together just once, the night we watched the fairies..." Wendy yawned, missing Peter's skeptical expression.
The silence stretched between them, Peter gazing into the darkness while Wendy tucked her hand under her cheek and closed her eyes.
"Do you really want to go home?" Peter's voice pulled her from the lure of the darkness.
Already dozing, Wendy had to work hard to understand his question. "Why would I want to go home?"
"You said you did...before." Pete explained, finding himself holding his breath waiting for her reply.
"I was tired...but I guess I do want to go home...Mother and Father must be so worried..." Wendy's voice tailed off.
Peter heard her breathing even out as she slipped into sleep, her lips slightly parted as she dreamed.
"I don't want you to go home...I want you to stay..." Peter whispered knowing that Wendy no longer heard him. Reaching down he gently moved a piece of hair out of her face, his fingers drifting down to trace the line of her cheek in a tender caress. "Please stay..."
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TBC...