Title: To Have & To Hold
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: Eleven - Under the mountain.
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They reached the base of the mountain before the sun dipped below the horizon. Bart had led them on a different route than the one they'd originally traveled, keeping away from anything that resembled a pathway, often forcing them to push their way through thick undergrowth. Wendy had managed her best to keep up but was heartily glad when Peter called a halt before it was fully dark, choosing a grassy glade beside a slow running stream as their campsite. Bart immediately set about building a fire by gathering rocks and dry brush from under the trees.
Wendy gratefully dropped her pack from her aching shoulders, the straps leaving deep marks in the thick jacket she'd worn over her thin dress.
Peter wore a similar uniform jacket, the coat longer and more heavily frogged than Wendy's but with deep pockets that held a variety of useful items including her acorn pendant which they had both decided was best kept away from direct contact with either of them. Shucking the pack, he reached into one pocket and withdrew the tinderbox Wendy had used the night before, tossing it to Bart to use. While Bart fed the fire, Wendy filled the buckets with water, stopping briefly at the stream to ease off her shoes and soak her feet in the chill water, before returning to camp.
"Is it a good idea to have a fire if Hook is in the area?" Asked Wendy, placing the buckets beside the packs.
"'Ol Hook be too far away to see the light, and the smoke'll be dispersed by the trees, so don't worry your pretty head miss, we be fine where we are." Bart assured her, poking more sticks on the fire and sending sparks into the air. Wendy regarded him with a sceptical expression before turning away to sort out their sleeping blankets for the night. Peter had set up a makeshift spit and skewed slices of meat on each stick, the venison still fresh from the previous day.
"We'd better finish up this meat before it goes off," Peter explained to Wendy, Bart already licking his lips at the meat dripping over the flames. As they waited for their meal to cook, the sun faded from the sky and the stars appeared through the forest canopy, the settling calls of the daytime birds changing to the hooting cries of the night owls setting out to hunt in the dark. Wendy pulled the edges of her jacket together, huddling into its oversized sleeves as she watched the flames leap higher with each splatter of fat from the roasting venison. Peter sat beside her, cross legged, his eyes intent on their meal, his ears tuned to the sounds of the forest for any hint that all was not a calm as it appeared.
Beside him Wendy sighed and he turned his head to look at her. He'd been proud of her for not once complaining about the pace or the rough terrain they'd covered that afternoon. Even now she kept her feet hidden under her skirts, her knees drawn up as she stared into the flames.
"How are your feet?" Peter asked, noting her instant attempt to hide her feet from him even further under her skirts.
"Oh...er...they're fine...considering."
"Let me see." Peter demanded, holding out his hand.
"No. They're fine Peter, really, I won't slow you down..."
"I didn't suggest you would Wendy...now show me your feet!"
Glaring daggers at him, Wendy folded her skirt about her ankles and kept her feet tucked underneath, out of sight.
Heaving an aggrieved sigh, Peter shook his head at her stubbornness.
"You are a stubborn woman, Wendy Darling..." He leant towards her, "But I guess that's why I love you." Peter whispered, two seconds before lunging towards her and knocking her backwards. Briefly they tussled on the grass, Wendy's feet kicking themselves free of her skirts as Peter pinned her laughing to the ground.
"Pax Peter...let me go you oaf!" Wendy batted uselessly at Peter's arm as he pinned her down, his strength holding her easily.
"Then you should do as your told, like any good girl, and let your lord and master look at your feet." Raising an impudent eyebrow, Peter ignored Wendy's outraged gasp and flashing eyes and looked over his shoulder at her still kicking feet. "You little fool!" He exclaimed, releasing her suddenly to sit up and take her feet in his hands. Wendy yelped from the pain of even that gentle contact, her chest heaving as she panted to lessen the sting of the blisters as Peter inspected her injured feet.
"I-I-I can manage Peter...they're not that bad..." Her voice faded when Peter's head whipped around and he fixed her with an accusing frown.
"These are bad Wendy...you should have said something sooner, we didn't have to press on. I'll need to get something to dress those blisters," He placed her feet back on the soft grass and made to move, Wendy's lips parting to remonstrate. "And don't say one word, we'll have to hope they recover enough for us to carry on tomorrow." He shot back as he rose to his feet and stepped around the fire.
Wendy pressed her lips together and struggled to bite back the words just dying to be said, his high-handedness bringing out her martial spirit and making her want to fling his words back in his teeth even when he spoke the right of it, her feet quite swollen and painful despite her brave assertion to the contrary. "I so hate it when he's right!" She muttered, Bart hearing and looking up from his contemplation of the fire.
"Ah lass...should have said something. You don't want ta make the young master cross now do ya?"
Wendy bit her lip at the old man's admonishment, "I didn't want to hold us up and maybe allow Hook to get too close...I thought..."
"As if I'd let 'ol Hook get the better of me in these woods, the fairies themselves couldn't track me if I've a mind to be lost, no bejaybers, they couldn't."
Perplexed, Wendy took a second or two to figure out the old sailors quaint cant, but she understood his meaning. Peter returned with his hands full of strips of cloth and one of the buckets, setting them down beside Wendy.
"I'll soak these strips in the cold water and wrap them around your foot. It'll help to reduce the swelling and maybe take some of the sting out of the blisters. We'll replace them frequently to keep them as cold as possible and see how they are before we sleep tonight."
"I'm sorry Peter...I didn't mean to cause you trouble."
"I'm sorry we're not safe aboard the Nymph, if we were you wouldn't have to trek all over Neverland and rub your feet raw."
"And I'm right sorry to interrupt all this apologizing, but the meat's fair ready and my stomach is poor empty." Announced Bart.
Both Wendy and Peter chuckled at the old pirate. "You'd better start without us Bart...but make sure you don't eat the lot."
Bart adopted an aggrieved expression even as his fingers pulled out the first skewer with its steaming slice of meat attached. "As if I would think of doing such a thing...I never would."
Peter lifted one of Wendy's feet and quickly bound it loosely with the soaked bandages, the cold making her drew in her breath, but the relief also making her sigh as he placed it back on the ground before working on the other one.
"Better?"
"Oh much...I paddled in the stream a little when I filled the buckets, but I didn't want to linger in case you suspected. This feels better already...thank you."
Peter finished the second foot and set it down. "We'll change them shortly, after we've eaten."
Wendy nodded and sat with her legs outstretched, Peter handing her a leaf plate with a slice of well cooked meat laid on it, as well as several pieces of fruit and some nuts. Bart had contributed a handful of edible fungi to the feast and he fished them out of the ashes and handed them around.
The meal was subdued, each caught up in their own thoughts, the fire crackling and snapping and catching everyone's eye, sparks leaping up like sprites into the night air, the smoke spiraling through the overhanging branches and leaves, disappearing into the sky. While Bart finished off the scraps, Peter changed the bandages again, Wendy glad that the cold seemed to have numbed her feet to a certain degree, making it possible for her to walk, with Peter's aid, to find a measure of privacy among some bushes to take care of her needs. Peter waited for her to appear again and helped her hobble back to their sleeping mats. Wendy had placed their blankets side by side, near enough to benefit from the fire, but not close enough to scorch. Bart, his stomach full, was belching softly to himself, scratching at his rags before laying down with his feet almost in the ashes, his head pillowed on his arm.
"I hope he doesn't catch fire laying so close to the flames." Observed Wendy, her head pillowed on one of the packs as she pulled the blanket about her shoulders.
"I don't expect he will, and the fire will die down quickly...I keep watch just in case. Get some sleep, we'll be up at sunrise and there's a long way to go."
"I'm sorry I was so silly about my feet...thank you for taking care of them...and me."
Turning around from his contemplation of the dying fire, Peter lay on his side facing her, a foot of dirt separating their blankets which he easily reached across to tenderly stroked her cheek.
"I'm sure they'll be much better in the morning, so don't worry. I'll change them again before I turn in for the night, so don't be surprise if you feel me fiddling about down there." He accompanied his words with a waggle of his eyebrows that made Wendy smile, her eyes twinkling.
"Oh the cleverness of you."
"Don't I know it." Peter retorted and they both laughed.
They gazed at each other for a long moment, Peter's face in shadow while Wendy's was gilded by the light of the waning flames. Leaning across the gap, Peter pressed his lips to hers in a sweet kiss.
"Goodnight My Wendy."
"Your Wendy?"
"Always My Wendy." Peter nuzzled his nose against her cheek and she sighed, her eyes sliding shut as he pressed a kiss against each eyelid before withdrawing and sitting up. In the shadow cast by his body, Wendy snuggled further into her musty blanket and quickly slipped into sleep despite the hard ground and her sore feet. Beside her, Peter sat with his knees bent, his arms looped loosely around them as he stared beyond the glow of the fire and up at the looming bulk of the mountain towering over them above the trees. Tomorrow Bart had promised they'd reach the entrance to the tunnel through the mountain, the old pirate estimating that they would only take two days and a night to traverse the network of caves and subterranean chambers that formed the pathway through the mountain. Bart had also hinted that it was very easy to get lost down there without a reliable guide and Peter felt a twinge of unease at trusting not only his own life, but that of Wendy to the old man, but the alternative was taking the long route and chancing that they wouldn't encounter Hook who would quite possibly be taking the same path to reach Cannibal Creek and the Nymph.
A grunt drew his attention to the pirate across the fire from him, the old man rolling noisily onto his other side just as a glowing branch decided to split apart with a loud crack and send a shower of sparks out of the stones and onto the man's clothing. Smoke immediately starting to rise from the embers and Peter scrabbled to his feet, throwing dirt on the glowing sparks to put them out and stamping on those thrown out of the circle of rocks. Bart lifted his head and peered blearily up at Peter.
"You wouldn't be thinking of kicking an old man, would you Master Pan?"
"The fire just threw out sparks which were setting fire to your cloak. Would you rather I left you to burn?" Peter retorted, keeping his voice down so as not to wake Wendy.
Glancing down at the tendrils of smoke still rising from the bottom of his cloak, Bart patted at one Peter had missed then lay down with a satisfied grunt. "Thank 'ee, I thought I was getting a mite warm."
Shaking his head, Peter left the old man to settle back to sleep, making his way back to his bed roll and sitting down. Wendy was well asleep, her hand tucked under her cheek like a child, her bandaged feet sticking out from her blanket. Picking up the bucket he carried it to the stream and refilled it with ice cold water before returning and gently removing the now warm bandages around her feet. Wendy stirred but didn't awake, his touch not drawing her out of her slumber as he replaced the bandages and covered her feet with a corner of her blanket.
Pulling his coat about his chest, Peter lay down on his own bed and gazed across at Wendy, her face in shadow now that the fire had died down sufficiently.
"Sleep well Sweetness." Peter whispered, leaning across to press a kiss to her forehead before wrapping himself in his blanket. Still on his side, he settled the pack under his head and closed his eyes, sleep swiftly claiming him, the night settling over the small campsite with a contented sigh of the wind in the branches, a flurry sending a final shower of glittering embers up into the air to dance briefly among the stars.
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Their progress up the volcano slopes the next morning was slower but just as steady, Wendy determined not to slow them down with her damaged feet. Peter had re-wrapped them and she'd managed to get them into a pair of shoes she'd brought. Careful not to let the full extent of the discomfort show on her face, Wendy demonstrated her ability to walk by carefully pacing about the camp under Peter's assessing stare.
"See, I can manage, the bandages are protecting the worst of the blisters from rubbing and the cold has numbed them nicely."
"I still think..." Peter started, only to have Wendy glare at him fiercely.
"I'm fine...let's get packed up. The sooner we leave the sooner we get further away from Hook."
Now they stood at the bottom of a scree slop staring up at a ledge with a dark opening gaping in the side of the mountain. The wind was tearing at their clothes and hair, the bald slope leaving them dangerously exposed to anyone scrutinizing the volcano from below.
"There 'tis...the entrance to the heart of the mountain." Bart announced, pointing at the dark maw and grinning toothily at his companions. Peter was looking up at the scree slope and trying to work out the best way to negotiate it while Wendy stared up at the slope and wondered if she ever be able to make it.
"Is there a path around this slope?" Peter asked, glancing over at Wendy before returning his gaze to their guide.
"Of sorts...follow me, and watch ya footing, it be slippery as an eel underfoot."
"Wait a minute Bart." Peter called, halting the man in his tracks. Turning, Bart watched as Peter unwound some of the rope about his middle before looping the end about Wendy's waist, attaching her to him.
"In case you fall," Peter reassured her when Wendy raised her eyes to his. She swallowed hard and managed a nod before turning to look up at the slope again. Bart only grunted and turned around, leading the way across the slope, apparently following a faint path marked only by a slight lessening in the amount of rocks covering the ground.
The higher they climbed, the steeper the slope became until they are almost walking on all fours to clamber over the rocks blocking the path that zigzagged across the face of the volcano, the entrance now only a few feet from where they scrabbled. Wendy was out of breath, her nails dirty and torn from scratching amongst the rocks for hand holds to prevent her slipping back down the slope. She kept her eyes fixed on the rope tethering her to Peter, her hair sticking to her face as she perspired freely despite the cold wind trying to blow her off the slope. At last they reached the jagged ledge that ran right up to the opening, Wendy grateful to straighten up, the pack feeling three times as heavy as when they'd started. Bart was up ahead and gesturing for them to hurry, his head turning to stare down the slope as if expecting someone to appear out of the tree line far below. Peter grinned broadly over his shoulder at her, his face as dusty as Wendy expected her's must be.
"Hurry young master...get you both inside and out of this wind," Bart chivvied them, his rags flapping in the blustery gale as Peter and Wendy approached along the narrow ledge to the yawning gap in the rock face. The old man seemed inordinately keen to get them out of sight, his eyes darting back and forth between the cave and the slope below them, his wide smile not lessening the tension in his face.
"Is there something wrong Bart?" Wendy asked as she passed the old pirate, her expression quizzical.
For a second the old man's smile slipped, then it was back and he shooed Wendy further into the dark opening, casting one last glance over his shoulder before entering the cave. Wendy felt a tug at her waist and turned to find Peter undoing the rope holding them together.
"We'll rest here a bit before carrying on. Here, let me help you take off that pack." Gratefully Wendy submitted to Peter easing the straps off her shoulders and dumping the pack on the dusty rock floor before sinking herself to the ground, not feeling the pebbles as she leant her back against the rough wall and closed her eyes.
"I'm so glad we've stopped." She breathed, her feet throbbing in their linen bindings, as choked with dust and grit as the rest of her.
"It's a little before midday, so we might as well have lunch here as anywhere, while we still have light to see by," Peter suggested, plumping himself down beside her and dragging over one of the packs.
"What are we going to use for lights once we're," Wendy pointed, "in there?"
"Bart?" Peter looked over at the old man.
"I keep pitch torches a little further on, they'll light our way," Bart explained, not moving from his spot on top of a rounded boulder which provided his seat.
"Well that's light taken care of...what about water?" Wendy asked, knowing full well they only had a small container to hold water other than the buckets.
"You'll find there's plenty of water down there," Bart thumbed his hand in the direction of the dark passageway, "you'd be surprised what's hidden beneath a mountain, there be streams and lakes and waterfall, just like above the ground, but all there, in the dark."
"Really? I never thought about it before, but I suppose there must be. After all, springs come from under the earth, and rivers flow underground sometimes."
"There are other wonders too, missy. Wonderful castles carved out of the rock, and palaces glittering with lights. It's like a fairy land down there, you wait and see."
"Goodness...and this tunnel, it was formed naturally? It looks so rounded, almost smooth."
"That's because it was formed by this very volcano itself, to carry the hot lava out of the mountain when it erupted."
"Erupted!" Wendy squeaked, staring about her as if expecting the rocks to melt underneath her.
Bart laughed. "No need to worry y'self...this ol' mountain hasn't puffed a cloud of smoke in a number of years and these lava tubes are as old as I am several times over."
"That's a relief...so there's no danger of it erupting while we're inside here?" Asked Wendy, munching on a piece of fruit.
"None whatsoever. Of course the volcano isn't dead, not by a long chalk. It still bubbles and simmers in its heart, waiting for time to pass until it's ready to grow again." Bart told her, taking the food offered to him by Peter.
"You seem to know an awful lot about this mountain," said Peter around a mouthful of food.
"I've been here a good many years, young master, and you gets to know all there is when you're poking around these caves, day in and day out."
Looking down at the food in his hand, Peter asked casually,"did you ever find the treasure Bart?"
For a second the old man's face appeared to sag, growing pale under his straggly beard as he stared at Peter. Peter didn't notice as he was looking at his food, but Wendy did and wondered why.
"Treasure you ask," Bart finally replied, laughing harshly. "There be no treasure in these caves, just rocks and worms and darkness."
"But you must have looked...as you said yourself, you've been down these caves long enough to know them like the back of your hand." Peter lifted his head and looked the old man square in the eyes, as if challenging him.
"I have spent more years than I care to think about in these tunnels, but I've never found anything other than more tunnels, more caverns and more darkness."
Wendy shivered, Bart's voice becoming more sepulchral as he spoke, a cloud choosing that moment to block out the sun and cast the entrance into shadow.
Blinking rapidly, Bart appeared to shake himself, then wolfed down the last of the food in his hand before brushing his fingers together and scrambling to his feet.
"I'll get them torches then, will I?" Not waiting for an answer, Bart loped off towards the interior and disappeared into the gloom. Peter gathered the remnants of the meal together and carefully replaced it in his pack. Wendy rubbed her arms, feeling a chill trickle down her back.
"Peter?"
"I know. He's a gloomy fellow but I don't think he means us any harm. We need a guide through these caves Wendy, and he's the only one I know."
Wendy laughed softly. "He is rather dour, I must admit. Maybe he's just been on his own too much."
"I'd say so...now lets see about those feet of yours."
Wendy gratefully submitted to Peter's ministrations as he changed the dressings on her feet and wrapped them with clean linen after using some of their precious water to rinse the dirt off them. Once more comfortably shod, Wendy and Peter hoisted their packs onto their shoulders and waited for Bart to return, which he did, carrying a bundle of similarly sized sticks with pitch soaked cloth wrapped around one end. There were too many for one to carry, so they were distributed equally amongst them all, Bart borrowing the tinderbox to ignite a small pile of dry grasses to make a tiny fire to light them. They only lit two, one for Bart to lead with, and one for Peter to carry in the rear, Wendy was to walk between them, her hands free.
With the torches burning brightly, Bart looked back at his two young companions and grinned. "The going it pretty easy for the first part of our journey, so don't dawdle, there'll be plenty of time to rest when we reach the first hurdle."
Not bothering to elaborate, Bart turned and marched off, the light of his torch sending shadows bobbing along the smooth walls. With a quick glance at Peter over her shoulder, Wendy set off after the old man, Peter's footsteps loud behind her.
Their progress, as predicted, was reasonably easy, the tunnel floor only occasional littered with rock falls and land slides that they negotiated easily, the light from the flickering torches making strange shadow creatures that danced and leapt over the walls beside them.
It was impossible to tell the passage of time inside the mountain, so it could have been one hour or several when Bart stopped ahead of Wendy, waiting for her and Peter to catch up.
"What is it?" Peter asked, coming to stand beside the old man.
"Our first obstacle, young master." With his free hand he pointed ahead, the light of the torch only reaching a few feet into the space ahead.
"I can't see anything," said Wendy, peering into the gloom.
"Then take a gander at ya feet, missy, and look again."
Wendy did and hurriedly took a step back. Bart and Peter were standing at the very edge of a sheer drop, a vast blackness stretching off below them to who knew what depth, as well as in front of them and above.
"This be the first of several large caverns, but not the largest." Bart explained.
"How do we get across it?" Peter asked, stretching his torch above his head to try and view the ceiling beyond his lights reach.
"This way." Bart indicated to the right and set off. Peter made to follow but Wendy still stood, rooted to the rock floor, her eyes huge in her face.
"Wendy?"
"I-I've put up with being kidnapped and-and trekking all over this wilderness, I've even put-put up with being incarcerated inside a blasted volcano...but-but I draw the line at being pitched over a precipice without a-a-a word of caution, or warning...for heaven's sake, one step and I would have dropped into nothing!"
"I'm sorry...I didn't think. I wouldn't have let you, you know. I had my hand on the back of your pack all the time."
"You did?" Wendy blinked at him.
"Of course...I was about to suggest I rope us back together again as I imagine the route down into the cavern will be narrow and not exactly safe."
"If you please..." Wendy quavered, her bravado deserting her.
"Here hold this," Peter handed her the torch which she held gingerly, keeping it far enough away so as not to spit and spark at her while Peter re-tethered her.
"There, that'll hold you. Ready now?"
Tilting her chin, Wendy nodded. "Are you ever afraid Peter?"
"Only of you." He replied, taking the torch.
"Me?" Wendy squeaked, turning to follow Bart who waited for them off to the side. "Why on earth would you be afraid of me?"
"Because of the way you make me feel. The way you've always made me feel...even when I didn't want to."
Bart was leading them along a narrow walkways that snaked back and forth across the cliff face like a goat track. With one hand brushing over the rock at her side, Wendy kept her focus on Bart's straggly grey hair and her eyes firmly away from the inky blackness to her left. As they tramped steadily downwards, Wendy thought over what Peter had said, his fear of feelings in the past was well known, even Hook understanding that Peter denied love because he feared the power it would have over him. But that was Peter as a boy who didn't want to grow up, who didn't want to work in an office, who didn't want to be a man. That was Peter before Wendy gave him her hidden kiss.
Now they had shared more than just a kiss, now they were no longer children, everything had changed. But still he feared her. Wendy mulled this over as they steadily descended into the darkness, the ledge widening to a pathway that allowed them to breath more easily as the slope leveled off near the floor of the cavern.
While Peter untied the rope, Wendy stared at the new wonder's on display before her. They were surrounded on both sides by stalagmites rising up from the floor like a stone forest, some stretching up to the ceiling, other's like blunt spikes of varying heights.
"We can't stop 'ere, but there's a place on t'other side that will make a perfect place to call a halt." Bart explained before leading them on a winding trail through the forest of glistening silica. The sound of the drips hitting the stone pillars was like a the faint patter of raindrops, a fine spray from the multiple impacts misted the air and coating them all with moisture. Wendy felt a trickle of water snake down her face and stuck out her tongue to catch the rogue drip at the corner of her mouth.
"It taste's like honey...so sweet!" She announced in surprise, licking her lips and looking back over her shoulder at Peter. He was as damp looking as Wendy, his eyes glinting wickedly as he lifted his hand to lick the skin on the back, smacking his lips and grinning back at her.
"Very sweet."
Feeling a blush steal over her face, Wendy almost blundered into a stalagmite, only avoiding the collision with a quick side step.
Peter watched Wendy dodge around the stone pillar and smiled to himself. It had always been like that, her face revealing her feelings before her words could confirm or attempt to deny them. It had intrigued him to tease her in the past, to make her blush and stammer, knowing all the time that he could invoke a reaction with a simple smirk or raised eyebrow. It had given him a warm glow when she smiled her sweet smile, the sun suddenly brighter, the sky bluer, as blue as her eyes. It had been the strength of his response to her that had frightened him so badly when she'd started to talk about feelings all those years ago, the fear provoking him into a violent rejection of his own heart, his own desire, a rejection of her. Even as he'd flown away he'd wanted to take back the harsh words, beg her to forget his stupid outburst and take him back, but she'd already gone from the fairy glade and he'd been too confused to face her again. Now those old feelings of fear and uncertainty were trying to find a niche in his happiness, eroding the glow that seemed to want to burst out of every inch of him every time he thought of what he and Wendy had done together and would do again before too long. Stamping down on those niggling doubts, Peter concentrated on letting all the love bottled up in his heart flood out and drown any hint of confusion from his mind, his body already committed to the girl who walked ahead of him, his heart laid at her feet all those years ago when he hardly knew the meaning of love.
At last they emerged from the tortuous path through the stalagmites and into a cleared area of the cavern floor, the rock pushed up into a series of broad steps and levels a little like an ruined amphitheater.
"Please say this is the end of our trek today?"
Bart carefully divested himself of his pack and laid it on the stone floor. "'Tis indeed the end for today, and may I say you've shown remarkable fortitude for a young lady, if I may be so bold as to mention."
"As long as that means I don't need to walk any more today, I'll take it as a compliment." Wendy replied, easing her own pack off her shoulders and dumping it on the ground with little care for its contents.
Bart found a crack in the floor in which to wedge his torch, Peter doing the same so that the fading flambeaux illuminated a circle and sent flickering shadows skittering off into the encroaching darkness beyond.
"Peter?"
"Yes Wendy?"
"I need to...um...take care of something."
"Well, pick a stalagmite, but don't wander beyond reach of the light."
"I won't...and please ask Bart if there's water around here somewhere."
Peter watched her disappear back into the forest of stalagmites at the edge of the circle of light. Turning back, he saw Bart walking away to find his own privacy, leaving Peter alone to pull open his and Wendy's packs and lay out their supplies for the night. When Bart returned, he rose to his feet.
"Is there a water source around here...other than the drips we just came through?" Peter asked him, shaking their only water container which was as good as empty.
"Indeed there is, just over that rise," Bart pointed. Picking up one of the buckets, Peter tossed it to the pirate then picked up the other himself.
Together they tramped up the slope, Peter hearing the rush of water before they saw it, a narrow channel cut into the rock by the fast running stream appearing out of the gloom and disappearing into a hole in the rock face. The water seemed to glow with a light of its own, shot through with a blue sparkle. Dipping in their buckets, the sparkle remained in the water like glittering silver dust, swirling and settling on the bottom as the water became still. Carefully they carried the buckets back to the makeshift campsite to find Wendy sitting on the outspread bedding and awaiting their return.
"Look Wendy...it glows!" Peter exclaimed only to have his excitement turn to disappointment when he found the liquid in the buckets no longer filled with sparkles but looking just like ordinary water.
"Well it did glow." He muttered, seeing Wendy's skeptical look. "Come and see."
Leaving the buckets behind he grabbed her hand and took her up the slope to the stream, Wendy gasping in delight as she saw what he meant.
"It's beautiful... what makes it glow like that?"
"I don't know...but whatever it is, it's only when the water is in this stream...when we took it out, it became just like ordinary water."
Reaching into the race, Wendy trailed her fingers in the fast flowing water, the sparkles in the liquid instantly attracted to her hand and attaching themselves like tiny motes, her skin quickly covered in sparkles until Peter yanked her hand out. Instantly the glow faded and plain water dripped off her fingers, now feeling numb with the cold.
"Oh...they're gone."
"You're fingers are like ice!" Peter exclaimed, chafing her hands between his larger, warmer ones, a worried expression on his face.
"Ow...you're rubbing too hard Peter."
Immediately he stopped, keeping her hand in his to warm it.
"Sorry...but it was like they were frozen solid. Didn't you feel the cold?"
"Not when my hand was in the water, no."
Drawing her away from the stream, Peter kept her hand in his until they got back to the camp. Peering suspiciously at the buckets, Peter dipped his own finger into the water, but it just felt cold, not icy. Lifting his finger he tasted the liquid still coating it but could detect nothing unusual in its taste or temperature.
Cautiously satisfied that the water wasn't going to harm them, they kept one bucket for drinking, and one for washing. The damp mist had left them all with wet hair and damp clothes. Away from the stalagmite forest, the rock floor was bone dry so Peter and Wendy decided to change into dry clothes and leave their damp ones out to dry overnight, laid out on the flat rocks. Not wanting to get wet amongst the rock pillars, Peter had to hold one of the blankets up as a curtain while Wendy changed behind it as quickly as she could. Then she did the same for him, the curtain more for Wendy's modesty than anyone elses.
In dry clothes again, they tried to persuade Bart to discard his wet cloak for something dry, but the old man refused, huddling into his rags like a turtle retreating into its shell. They had no wood for a campfire so just sat between the spluttering torches and ate the last of the cooked meat and some fruit. After the meal Peter redressed Wendy's feet, their condition vastly improved despite the discomfort, the blisters healing well within their protective bandages. Her feet comfortable, Wendy then tried to bring some order to her damp hair, the brush almost ending up being thrown away as snags and tangles frustrated her.
"Here...let me try." Peter took the inoffensive brush from Wendy's clenched fist and turned her away. "You're just making it worse."
"Since when did you have any practice brushing a ladies hair?" Wendy asked petulantly, cross with herself for losing her patience.
"Oh, there was a mermaid or two..." Peter replied, only to receive a scorching glare from his lady love that made him grin widely.
"A mermaid?"
"Or two." Peter teased, turning her head back to face the front with his free hand.
Wendy sat in rigid indignation as he carefully separated her hair into sections, attacking each hank with strong sure strokes from the crown of her head to the tip, the soothing brushing easing the tension in her shoulders as she succumbed to the seduction of having her hair dressed.
It took some time to untangle all the snarls and knots but eventually Peter was able to brush the entire sweep of her hair without encountering a single snag. Wendy was almost asleep, lulled drowsy from the rhythmic motion of his brushing.
"I always thought your hair was beautiful back then...but now," he ran his fingers through the strands and watched it fall over his arm like a shimmering fall of silk.
"Mother calls it my crowning glory." Wendy murmured, her eyes closed.
"Now it's my glory." Peter whispered against her ear, scooting up behind to wrap himself around her. Wendy relaxed against his chest, her fingers entwining with his as he pressed a kiss against her cheek. The feel of his lips made her eyes pop open and she glanced over at the old pirate.
"He's asleep," Peter's seductive whisper came again as Wendy's gaze confirmed his words. Bart was indeed asleep, curled up a little like a hedgehog among his rags, his head tucked against his knees, the faint buzz of his snoring audible across the distance between them.
"I suppose we should do the same," Wendy whispered back, rubbing her cheek against his face, feeling the faint rasp of stubble against her skin.
"It'll be cold on these hard rocks," Peter breathed against her ear, sending shivers down her back.
"Then we'll have to make our bed as comfortable as possible," Wendy murmured back to him.
"Our bed?"
"Only to conserve body heat..."
"Of course...body heat."
With a sigh, Peter disengaged their fingers and scrambled to his feet while Wendy gazed up at him with a small smile playing about her lips. She watched as Peter gathered their blankets together in one pile along with their packs, creating one bed wide enough for them both. With a waves of his arm he indicated for her to join him, which she did.
Like awkward children they lay down fully dressed on the thin mattress, Peter spooning up behind Wendy before pulling the blankets over their bodies and tucking it in around them both.
With a little shuffling and shifting they found a position that suited them both, Peter's heat warming Wendy's back while his arm looped over her waist and hugged her body snuggly against his chest.
"Warm enough?"
"Positively glowing," Wendy giggled, feeling his fingers squeeze her through her dress. She felt Peter shake against her as he laughed, the muscles in his arm tightening as he moved infitisimally closer.
In the silence they could still hear the patter of drips against the growing stalagmites and the faint rush of water from the stream. The torches that had provided their light were finally fading, spluttering as they used up the last of the pitch.
"Peter, are you really afraid of me...of what you feel for me?"
A silence stretched between them. Then Peter finally spoke.
"I thought I was, but really I was just afraid of what would happen if you really didn't love me...if what I'd believed all this time was only in my imagination."
"I thought that too...that all this wasn't real, couldn't be real. But it is, isn't it?"
"Oh yes...very real."
They lay for a long moment listening to the sounds of the cave.
"Peter...what's going to happen, when we get out of here?"
"I suppose...we find the Nymph, get the other book back from Hook after we foil his attempt to find us, get married, thwart whatever diabolical plan the Keeper has up his smoky sleeve and live happily ever after."
"Oh..." Peter felt Wendy stiffen, her head almost twisting off her neck as she struggled to turn and face him. "Did you say married?"
"You did say you might be carrying our child, which would make you a Mother, and if I'm to be a Father aren't they usually married?"
"Y-y-es."
"Then I suppose we ought to get married then...don't you think?"
Wendy finally freed herself from his arm and turned around to face him, her hair falling forward like a curtain as she braced herself above him. In the dying light of the torches she stared down at him with an intent expression on her face, her eyes trying to gauge if he was being quite serious.
"You're not teasing me, are you Peter, because I would be quite cross if I thought you were making fun of me."
Quite liking having Wendy looking down at him, Peter gave her one of his lazy smiles. "I love it when you get cross with me."
"And you're not just asking because...b-b-because of what we did and I might be having a b-b-baby?"
"Did I mention I love it when you stutter?"
"Don't you think we're being a little hasty?...I mean...it's rather sudden."
"Sudden? I don't think six years is a short time! How long to do you need to make up your mind!"
"I-I-I..."
"Do...and I do too, so that's settled then."
Wendy stared down at his smug expression and closed her mouth with a snap.
"You are quite the most impossible, incorrigible, irascible..."
"Lovable?" Peter offered.
Unable to keep her indignation in place, Wendy gave in and smiled down at him, her eyes glowing. "Quite the most lovable."
"Then kiss me and let's get to sleep, these rocks aren't getting any softer."
Feeling Wendy tense in readiness to deliver a blow to his arm in punishment for his cheekiness, Peter gathered her close and flipped her over, careful not to let her head connect with the hard floor by cradling it in his hand. Not allowing her to catch her breath Peter pressed his lips to hers, invading her mouth with his eager tongue and finding her more than ready to duel with him. Getting rapidly over her surprise at his quick manoeuver, Wendy wrapped her arms about his neck and returned his kiss, the blankets becoming tangled around them as their bodies fought to get closer. With Peter's hands roaming over her body, Wendy moaned and clutched him closer before a loud snort from their traveling companion made them both freeze into immobility. Breathing heavily, Peter closed his eyes and willed his body to cease it's clamoring, his heart thumping loudly in his chest as he dropped his head to bring his and Wendy's foreheads together.
"Not...exactly...the...best...place...to...consummate...our engagement." He panted, groaning when Wendy heaved a sigh, pressing her breasts and their hardened peaks against his chest.
"Agreed."
Disentangling themselves, they shifted until they were once more positioned back to front, Peter spooning up behind Wendy and the blankets tucked around them.
"I can feel your heartbeat." Wendy whispered, holding his arm against her side with her own.
"And I can feel yours too." Peter whispered back, shifting his hand and cupping her breast through her dress, her heartbeat pattering against his hand.
"Peter!"
Groaning in frustration he removed his hand and put it back at her waist, his lower body still hard where it pressed against her rounded derriere.
"Sorry...I can't help that."
"That's alright...I know all about boys...and that."
"Oh?"
"You forget...I have brothers, and John was frequently embarrassed by his...doing that at inopportune times."
"Really...well that's a comfort I suppose. I have a feeling that," He flexed his hips, nudging her suggestively, "will be happening all to frequently from now on, so I'm glad it won't...er...embarrass you too much."
"I suppose I should really be quite flattered I have that affect on you."
"Very flattered." Peter nuzzled her hair, squeezing her against him.
They lay silent for several minutes. Finally Wendy spoke.
"I wouldn't mind being a mother...if you are the father, Peter."
"Good." Peter replied drowsily.
"And I wouldn't mind marrying you either."
"Even better." His voice came back distinctly sleepy.
"Goodnight Peter."
"Night Sweetness."
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TBC...