Title: To Have & To Hold
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: Eight - 'Tis written in the Stars
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"Wendy...open your eyes."
Peter's voice floated to her on the whisper of a cool breeze. Hardly daring to move, Wendy lifted her head a fraction from the warm pillow of his shoulder and blinked open her eyes.
"Peter...are we dead?"
"I don't think so...I don't feel dead."
Wendy stared over Peter's shoulder in wonder at the blanket of bright stars surrounding them on all sides, as far as her eyes could see.
"Is this real?" Wendy asked, her grip on his neck loosening a tiny bit as she twisted her head to look further.
"Maybe...I don't know."
"This is another of my hallucinations...we're really back on the ship in your cabin, and...and..."
"But you feel solid," Peter squeezed his arms and Wendy hissed. "And you smell solid." He buried his nose back in her hair and gave an audible sniff.
"That doesn't mean a thing...all my previous vision, if you want to call them that, were as real to me as this...except..."
"Except what?"
"Usually I'm alone."
"Not this time..." He gave her another squeeze, receiving one in return, Wendy still pressed so close a wafer wouldn't have passed between them.
"What do you see Peter?...I only see stars, no island, no clouds..."
"No ship, no moon...nothing." Peter finished for her.
"Then what...what is holding us...up?" Wendy whispered, as if voicing the improbability would make it somehow vanish.
Peter remained silent, the thoughts chasing around his head like a fish in a bowl.
Tentatively he loosened his grip on Wendy, his hands coming up to pull her arms from around his neck. At first she resisted, but then allowed him to pull himself free, his fingers lacing with hers at the last to keep a connection while they parted.
Wendy steeled herself and looked down, the stars visible between her feet as they were above her head. Peter also looked down, then lifted one of his feet, inspecting the sole. Replacing his foot, he twisted it as if grinding something in to the ground.
"I can't feel anything...but it feels solid." He explained, when he caught Wendy's inquiring look.
"I feel a breeze...not cold, but not hot either."
As if only waiting for her to speak of it, the breeze picked up strength and blew a gust of air over them, lifting tendrils of Wendy's hair and ruffling Peter's curls. They both turned in the direction the breeze had come, expecting something to appear.
"Are you looking for me?"
The voice, coming from the opposite direction to where they were looking, made Wendy jump and let out a squeak, both of them turning to face the owner of the voice.
"Don't be alarmed, I don't intend any harm to either of you."
At first they could see nothing, the stars as bright as before and as impenetrable. Then a faint outline started to form, a figure wearing a long, flowing robe that roiled and floated about the person like smoke rising from the a fire.
"I have been waiting for this moment a long time...welcome to the Never Realm."
Still not able to see more than an outline and the swirling robe, Peter exchanged a glance with Wendy before clearing his throat.
"Why are we here...did you bring us?" Asked Peter, pulling Wendy into his side.
"Not exactly...I am the keeper of the Realm, but not the creator. You, however, are the one to become the Peacekeeper of all the Never worlds, it is foretold."
"To find the treasure, you must bring two halves together to make a whole." Said Wendy, quoting the riddle in the book, her face blank as if in a trance.
"When you gave her the acorn, it started a chain of events, which will ultimately culminate with you," the figure pointed to Peter, "becoming what none have become before." The creatures voice suddenly turned into a booming echo. "The Ruler of the Three Kingdoms, King of Neverland."
Both Wendy and Peter had clapped their hands over their ears as the voice deafened them. As the last booming syllable rolled into the distance, Peter lowered his hands.
"How is it I have never heard of this before...and why me?"
"You have been in training all these years...learning how to become the leader of men, how to fight, how to possess and defend, how to communicate with the different creatures that inhabit Neverland..these are all skills that a King must learn before taking the throne."
The creature approached closer, the tendrils of its robes swirling around Peter and Wendy, stroking over their arms and faces as their wearer circled the couple.
"What does a ruler do?" Peter asked, his eyes following the creature as it moved around them.
"Why rule, of course...you would have the power to do whatever you wanted, be whoever you wanted, have whatever you wanted...destroy anything or...anyone."
"What if I don't want all that?"
As if never having considered the possibility, the creature halted in its swirling path and stood stock still, even its robe settling down from the incessant movement for a long moment.
Only just noticing that Wendy had remained unusually silent, Peter looked at her and noticed that her eyes, although wide open, appeared glazed with a far-away look, her face devoid of expression. Grasping her shoulders, Peter shook her, her head lolling on her neck but not changing the slack expression on her face.
"Wendy...Wendy! What's wrong with her...Wendy?"
"Your consort is displaying the proper respect for your new position." The creature explained smugly, a tendril of smoke reaching out to stroke over Wendy's face. Peter batted at it, his hand feeling the cold left behind on her skin.
"I don't want to be a-a-a King...Neverland doesn't need one."
"Don't be stupid boy!" The creature hissed, sweeping forward. "This is your destiny...the prophecy...the book!"
Still trying to rouse Wendy, Peter ignored the creature. "Wendy...wake up, come on...say something."
Behind him, the smokey outline started to grow, expanding and blotting out the stars, swirls of grey smoke thrashing about the creature as it swelled.
"You cannot ignore what I offer you...you will be the Ruler of the Three Kingdoms..." Again the voice boomed out, making Peter wince.
"I won't...and no keeper is going to tell me what to do, or a book...so send us back to the Nymph!"
"You cannot refuse your legacy boy...you will be King of Neverland...or Neverland will suffer the consequences of your rash refusal."
"Send us back!"
"You will bring the wrath of the Oracle on your head, and hers...everyone will suffer!" Surrounding the couple, the smoke creature flung out his hands at Peter, a buffeting wind almost knocking him over, snatching at Wendy until he wrapped her in his arms and braced himself, the acorn pendant once more trapped between then. Gritting his teeth, he staggered as a gust threatened to knock them both to their knees. Pressed between them the acorn started to glow, its light surrounding Peter and Wendy, the shadow creature letting out a shriek and backing away from the pulsing glow as it suffused the humans before blinking them both out of existence.
For a second the creature floated in one spot, the swirling cloak licking lazily around it. Then it exploded into animation, a keening scream issuing from the region of its head as it darted around where the humans had stood, the outline fading until only the voice remained.
"Thwart me at your peril, impudent youth...you will be my instrument, whether by fair means or foul. Time, I think, to visit your enemy and see if he can't force you into accepting what will be...Neverland will be mine...and you will be my willing acolyte."
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Their return to Neverland was nowhere near as gentle as their arrival among the stars. The acorn pendant deposited them on the slopes of the volcano, several feet in the air above a coarse grassy knoll, Peter still wrapped around Wendy so that they landed together but quickly fell apart as they rolled to the bottom of the hillock. Peter lay, winded and bruised, staring up into the welcome brilliance of a Neverland sky, the clouds scudding across the blue expanse, blotting out the sun for long intervals while Peter gathered his scattered wits enough to move.
Groaning, he rolled slowly on to his side, noting absently that, apart from an assortment of aches from the journey down the hillside, his injury appeared to be healed. Sitting up, he gingerly tested his theory and probed where the bullet wound should have been. Feeling nothing but his poking finger, Peter lifted his shirt and pressed harder directly over the area. Again there was no twinge, no pain to make him wince.
"Hey...it doesn't hurt any more...Wendy, I'm healed!"
Getting no reply, Peter twisted around and searched the grassy area, seeing Wendy's body off to the left, laying on her side with her back to him. Alarmed at her stillness, Peter scrambled to his feet and staggered slightly over to her. Dropping down, he grabbed her shoulder and pulled her onto her back. Hair covered her face so he gently brushed it back, noting as he did that her skin had lost its coolness, her eyes closed as if only asleep.
"Wendy, wake up...we're back in Neverland...come on sweetness, open those eyes for me."
Tapping her cheek he tried to rouse her, his frustration at her lack of response prompting him to lean down and cover her mouth with his own, the kiss at first un reciprocated, then he felt her move against him, her lips sliding across his as she returned his kiss for several delicious seconds.
Roused to full consciousness, Wendy became aware of a wonderful warmth flooding her body, her limbs tingling as if suffused with static, her lungs straining as she eagerly returned the pressure on her mouth. With a gasp she broke the kiss and stared up at Peter in surprise, his own expression a mixture of relief and smug satisfaction.
"I thought I was going to have to make love to you to make you wake up." He remarked cheekily, grinning down at her as she struggled to remember how she had arrived at where she was.
"Where are we?"
"On the slopes of the Smoking Giant, half way up the north side."
"W-w-what?"
"On the slopes..."Peter started to repeat, only to have Wendy shove her hands against his chest and push him away. Rolling on to her side, she staggered to her feet, almost falling as her toes became tangled in her skirts. Peter rose and steadied her when she swayed, her free hand coming up to shield her eyes as she stared up at the volcano looming above them.
"Oh Lord...how did we get here, I thought we were up there...among the stars."
"I'm not sure where we were before...it's possible the Keeper just made it look like the stars."
"The Keeper...was there someone else there?"
"You don't remember?"
"It's rather fuzzy...I remember seeing the stars, and I think I quoted something of that riddle from the book...but after that..." Wendy shrugged, shaking her head as she tried to remember more. "Sorry, it's a blank."
"Well never mind...you didn't miss much." Keeping his hand on her arm, Peter took his bearings from the peak of the volcano and turned to lead her down the slope.
"Where are we going now?" Wendy asked, tripping over an unseen obstruction in the long grass as they pushed their way through.
"We have to find the Nymph...if we're on the North side, they are on the South side, assuming that they're still berthed in Cannibal Creek."
"Why wouldn't they be...and we have a problem if you expect me to walk that distance."
Peter halted and turned to look at her. Wendy pointedly lifted her skirts above her ankles and wiggled her bare toes.
"Damn." Peter swore, his mind furiously offering alternatives.
"Why don't we fly?" Wendy asked.
"I can't." Peter replied baldly, his hands on his hips as he considered their options.
"Why ever not? You used to."
"As it has apparently escaped your notice, I got big."
"So?"
"So I lost the ability to fly along with my youth."
"You're not exactly an old man, Peter."
"Too old apparently for some things."
"Oh...I'm sorry."
"Why?"
"Well...I suppose it's all my fault, that you got big and can't fly."
Peter looked down at his toes, then up at the mountain, avoiding Wendy's eyes. "Not entirely."
Turning his back on her he started off down the slope, Wendy following.
"What does that mean...not entirely?"
"It means...I could have stayed the way I was, if I'd wanted to...but I didn't."
"Oh...you mean you chose to grow up?"
"Yes."
"Oh...I thought you never wanted to become a man, to grow up."
"I didn't...but then..."
"Then?"
Peter abruptly stopped and swung around so that Wendy, practically on his heels, had to take a step back to avoid cannoning in to him. Moving with the speed of a striking snake, Peter closed the gap and caught her face between his hands, his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss that made her toes curl. Before she had a chance to bring her own hands up he released her, so suddenly she rocked back on her heels.
"That changed my mind...I wanted to do that again, and I couldn't if I stayed the way I was."
"Oh." Wendy said again, faintly, her cheeks suffused with colour as she stared into his eyes.
"Exactly." Said Peter, his mouth curling up into a crooked smile. "I decided that being a man might not be as bad as I thought."
"Oh." Wendy said again. Peter chuckled.
"Is that all you can say?"
"Um...no, but if you keep on kissing me like that it might be."
"I could see that being an advantage." He grinned at her, flicking her nose with a casual finger before turning away to continue their trek down the mountain.
Feeling buoyed up with emotion, Wendy fairly skipped after him, a stone bringing her up short with a cry of pain.
"Ouch, that hurt...I could do with some shoes."
"As soon as we reach the tree line, I'll make you some footwear."
"That would be helpful."
Belatedly Wendy remembered that Peter was supposed to be injured.
"Peter!"
"What?"
"You're walking!"
"You only just noticed?"
"No, I mean...your side, the bullet wound...you could barely get out of bed."
Stopping again, Peter lifted his shirt and started to unwind the bandage wrapped around his middle. "All healed...at least there's no pain, so I'm assuming it's all right now."
Wendy watched in astonishment as the last of the bandage unraveled, the pad falling away to reveal a smooth expanse of Peter's skin, a pink pucker the only evidence of the near-fatal wound in his side.
"But that's impossible...isn't it?"
"Nah...I heal well, always have...plus it's a possibility that we have been away a lot longer than it appears."
"I beg your pardon?"
"How long do you think we've been gone from the Nymph?"
"A few hours?" Wendy hazarded, frowning.
"More like a few days, if my guess is right."
"A few days?"
"Yup. See up there." He pointed back up at the volcano peak. Wendy turned to stare in the direction of his finger. "When we were searching for you, there was no snow on the summit...now the snow line is already creeping down towards the upper slopes."
"Good grief...how long does that usually take?"
"Depending on the weather...a week of me being absent from Neverland usually."
"Oh goodness...so even though you can't fly anymore, you still effect the weather?"
Peter nodded, shrugging deprecatingly. "I can't control that."
He turned away, bundling the bandage loosely around his waist, the pad tucked into his waistband. Wendy hitched up her skirts and followed him through the tall grass, the sun beating down on her unprotected head and making her sweat, her blouse quickly becoming damp and clinging to her back. Peter appeared unaffected by the heat and Wendy envied his deep tan from endless days spent under the Neverland sun, her own skin prickled with incipient sunburn as they trudged ever closer to the tall trees and their promised shade.
Finally they reached the welcome gloom of the forest, the trees towering over their heads as Peter led them along a rabbit path, the sudden gloom like passing from day to night, the temperature dropping accordingly. Wendy raised her arm and wiped the sweat from her face, her sleeve already stained with moisture, the cuff grubby with the dust thrown up by their passage through the grass. Her clothes itched with the seeds that filled the air and she longed for a chance to bathe.
Conversation had been infrequent, both wanting to get out of the heat of the afternoon, Wendy concentrating on keeping her feet across the rough ground, Peter racking his memory for any information on the area they were to traverse. For all his time spent on the island, it still had areas that were largely unexplored by himself, charted only vaguely by the people that lived on Neverlands' shores and along its waterways. Peter had often flown over the area they were in, on his way to and from wherever he was going, but he'd never actually set foot within the almost impenetrable forests that clothed the flanks of the still active volcano. Now he was being guided by instinct, the faint rabbit path threading its way through the trees, leading them to what, Peter didn't know, only a strong feeling that it would lead them somewhere kept him going, Wendy a stumbling step behind him.
"Not far now." He suddenly announced, jerking Wendy out of her stupor.
"Not far from what?"
"Shoes and a bath for you, shelter for the night and a guide."
Wendy blinked at Peter's back. "How do you know all this?"
"I don't...I just feel it."
"Oh, well that's alright then...I hate to base an opinion on anything more substantial than a feeling...did this feeling tell you how much further we could expect to have to trek?"
Ignoring Wendy's biting sarcasm, Peter grinned to himself, trusting to something inside him that said over and over that a refuge was just up ahead.
A thicket blocked their way but Peter pushed right on through, ignoring the sting of prickles that scraped his skin. On the other side he slowed to survey their safe haven for the night. Wendy dragged herself through the hedge, hearing her blouse and skirt rip as she fought against the thorns holding her back.
"I certainly hope this shelter has a change of clothes, mine have just been shredded." Wendy grumbled, not looking up as she tried to detach her skirt from a persistent thorn.
"I wouldn't be surprised." Peter replied, laughing as he stared at the edifice before them.
"What are you laughing at...oh my Lord." Wendy swung round with a sharp twist, finally freeing herself, her head jerking up to see what amused Peter. "Where on all of Neverland did that come from?"
In front of them rose up the log palisade of a fort, the sturdy gates hanging drunkenly open on rusted hinges. The walls were covered in vines and creeping weeds, camouflaging the logs and softening the sharpened points edging the top. Peter walked through the half open gates and pushed his way through the rank grass, turning around to survey the rest of the compound as they carved a path through the weeds.
"What is this place?" Wendy asked, impressed with the strength of the fort, the wood not rotten or damaged, despite its air of abandonment and desolation.
"This must be Fort Sumpter...I'd heard about it from the Indian's but I never found it, now I know why."
"Who built it?"
"No one knows...maybe the same person who built the Black Castle, or Skull Island." Peter shrugged, heading towards a collection of buildings sheltered against the inner wall.
Kicking accumulated dust and leaves from in front of a door, Peter pulled it open. "I found you a change of clothes!" He announced, sauntering over to a large armoire standing against the wall and opening the ornately carved doors. Wendy hurried across the floor to peer over his shoulder, her gasp of surprise making Peter indicate the contents with a flourish of his hand.
"Take your pick, m'lady...there should be something here you can use."
Wendy stared at the odd collection of clothes both hanging from the rail and stacked on the shelves in the huge cupboard. On the floor were boots of many styles and sizes, all covered in dust and draped with cobwebs. "It's like a huge, grownup dressing-up cupboard."
She riffled through the items hanging up and found them to be a strange assortment of uniforms from many different era's, many heavily decorated with braid and epaulets. Off to one side she found a selection of women's clothing, also very dusty, but quite serviceable. Beneath the dresses were stacked slippers and shoes to match, along with hats and gloves heaped all higgledy-piggledy.
Peter had wandered off and was investigating the doors leading off from the room. Every now and then he would shout back to Wendy, informing her of what he'd found.
"There's a bedroom back here...and it has a bathroom of sorts off it."
Wendy pulled a dress off a hanger and shook it, a cloud of dust making her cough. "Wonderful...is there any water?"
Peter's voice floated back to her through the thickness of the walls. "No water...but there's sure to be a well around here somewhere."
Wendy had put an array of shoes on the floor and was trying them for size, her dirty scratched feet a perfect match for the dusty, age stained shoes she was attempting to put on.
Peter's voice came from a greater distance and she cocked her head to listen.
"Found a kitchen...plenty of dishes, but no food."
At that moment Wendy's stomach decided to protest, growling loudly and making her giggle. "Can't have everything." She chastised her internal organs.
Draping the dress over the back of a musty chair, Wendy hobbled over to the door in her borrowed shoes. She stared around the weed infested area outside the huts and found what she was looking for.
"I see the well..now all we need is a bucket." She called out.
Not bothering to wait for Peter, Wendy made her way to the low stone circle rising only just above the tall weeds. Resting her hands on the cold stone, she peered into the dark depths for inspiration on how to raise the water below. There might have been a wooden cross bar at one time from which a bucket was raised and lowered, but that had long gone, leaving no obvious way to get at the water in the well.
Refusing to be defeated, Wendy edged her way around and was rewarded with the toe of her shoe kicking against something that rang like a bell. Clearing away the grass she found it to be a dented metal bucket with a handle, a tuft of rotted rope still tied to it.
"Now all I need is a length of rope and my bath is only a bucket of water away."
"Did you mention rope?" Peter's voice came from behind her and she jumped, a coil of rope landing at her feet. With nimble fingers Peter knotted the rope around the metal handle of the bucket and lowered it over the side of the stone wall. It clanked loudly as it disappeared into the darkness, Wendy hanging over the edge to watch its progress. Soon after it passed out of sight they heard a splash. Peter looped the rope around his hand and started to pull it back up, Wendy watching for the bucket to appear.
"I can see it...oh dear, it's caught on a ledge," Wendy exclaimed just as Peter gave a tug and the bucket upended, spilling its contents. "Oh no..." Wendy moaned softly, watching the bucket bump its way back up to the top.
"Look around and see if you can find something to span the well, we need to keep the bucket away from the sides." Peter told her.
They both looked, trampling down the weeds around the well until Peter swooped on a patch of straggly shrub and lifted up a half-round log, easily wide enough to span the opening. With that in place the next bucket reached the top without mishap and Wendy clapped her hands when Peter presented her with the brimming bucket. She dipped in her fingers and scooped up a handful of water, gulping down the cool liquid thankfully. Peter did the same and they took turns until they'd drunk their fill.
The problem of water solved, Peter took Wendy on a tour of all he'd discovered. From the first room, he led her into the one next door which, as he'd said, was a bedroom, or more properly a bunk room, with two rows of beds against each wall. Most were just the frames with no mattresses, the one remaining palliasse barely distinguishable from a collection of rags and straw. Through another door they found the bathroom, containing just an old tin hip bath and an assortment of grimy hand basins set on a wooden bench. Further exploration led them to the kitchen with tables set out with long benches, grouped around a large central fire pit with a rusty metal spit still in place over the dead ashes.
Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust and debris, leaves and twigs scattered all over the floor and wind blown detritus heaped at regular intervals against table legs and the corners of walls. None of the windows had glass and there were no curtains to be seen, the whole barely livable in its present state.
Wendy found it all rather depressing, her mouth drooping as she bent to avoid the hanging cobwebs looped from beam to beam above their heads. Glad to escape, she pushed open the door and stepped outside.
Breathing deeply she stared up at the sky, noting that the sun had gone behind the trees, plunging the fort into deep shade. Rubbing her arms she turned as Peter joined her.
"What are we going to do for food? It's going to be dark soon."
"If I can leave you to take care of the fire, I'll go see what there is to hunt out there."
"But you don't have any weapons."
"I found the armory...some of it's too rusty to use, but there's a couple of things I can cobble together. Can you get that fire going?"
"Oh, I'll manage...take care Peter...I'm still not convinced you're completely recovered from that injury."
Rolling his eyes, Peter darted forward and grabbed Wendy around her waist, swinging her up and round, her hands grabbing at his shirt, her legs kicking. Peter whooped and laughed, spinning them both around, almost overbalancing as Wendy shrieked and clutched at him.
"Put me down you idiot!" Wendy screamed, Peter stopping suddenly and dropping her feet to the dirt, his arm holding her close as she swayed from dizziness.
"Satisfied?"
"I'll keep the home fires burning!" Wendy replied breathlessly, immediately missing the strength of his arm when he withdrew from her. Biting her lip, she watched as Peter swaggered away through the long grass.
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tbc...