Shahrazád's Ghosts


Epilogue: Part III


"But he sat quite still, benumbed and cold. Then little Gerda shed burning tears; and they fell on his bosom, they penetrated to his heart, they thawed the lumps of ice, and consumed the splinters of the looking-glass… Hereupon Kay burst into tears; he wept so much that the splinter rolled out of his eye, and he recognised her, and shouted, "Gerda, sweet little Gerda! Where have you been so long? And where have I been?" …And he held fast by Gerda, who laughed and wept for joy…they both had forgotten the cold empty splendor of the Snow Queen, as though it had been a dream… There sat the two grown-up persons; grown-up, and yet children; children at least in heart; and it was summer-time; summer, glorious summer!"

Hans Christian Anderson, The Snow Queen


Peter

2604 A.D.

Peter had never been to Volterra in person before. To him, it had only ever existed in tales and collective memories, almost as a cautionary tale used to keep children in line and prevent them from wandering off in the dark of night. Volterra had always been Neverland's "monster" and the faceless, nameless enemy which would at any time descend upon them.

It surprised Peter, then, to find the city bustling with life, much as any other, and to find it crawling with humans and not vampires. In fact, they did not find a single vampire in the whole of the city, though they searched every single street and surrounding vineyard. Volterra had managed to rebuild most of the damaged structures in the hundred and thirty years since it had fallen. There were no obvious battle scars, other than the lapses in minds of his companions of "what used to be." They could easily conjure memories of where the old vampire strongholds had stood and the layers of memories that haunted the rebuilt sections of the city.

Most of the old fortress had been destroyed in the initial conflict. Now, it housed an office building and tall apartment complex. Beneath both, deep under the city, not all of the catacombs had been filled in with rubble. Those that remained passable showed more evidence of vampire activity than the city overhead- though even none of this was recent. This was not the overnight "ghost town" of Neverland but a slow abandonment that took place over nearly a century. Now the old tunnels were the abodes of rats and stray cats more than anything else and it was hard to even imagine that the lost vampire lords once ruled here for millennia.

"As I said, we didn't find anything back when the city was still smoldering. I don't think we'll find anything now," Slightly said. He might grumble and complain, but he still followed after Peter and dug through collapsed tunnels alongside him. Ifeh did not complain once. She kept close behind and proved to possess the keenest powers of observation. It was she who found two hidden doors and a tunnel which led even farther into what must have been used as a dungeon or holding cell. Still, they found nothing useful.

It was also Ifeh who suggested they turn to the city archives to search records of Volturi-owned properties outside of the city center. Slightly was familiar enough with their many pseudonyms and shadow companies that he recognized lands and buildings around Tuscany that were under the possession of the Volturi around the time of its collapse. This gave them another list of places to search. Most gave them nothing but elegant vineyards, storehouses, and garages. Still, too much time had passed and the majority of these properties had been rebuilt or turned to other purposes and none alive remembered what they had been used for, so very long ago.

"Peter, you can't raze the entire city to find her," Augustine said. He tried to be gentle in the way he said it, but Peter instantly flinched. Augustine understood the drive and compulsion to keep searching. He also knew just how long and hard such a fruitless search could be and he was trying to tactfully lower Peter's hopes -sooner rather than later.

"I cannot give up. Not yet. She was here. The seer saw her survive. Darling is somewhere."

"The who?" Slightly said.

"Carlisle's coven has a seer who can prophesy the future."

"A detail he conveniently forgot to mention," Augustine groused.

"He thought about it, though," Slightly said and cast a cheeky glance at the older vampire. A boulder came crashing in his direction. Slightly easily side-stepped it and pretended not to notice.

"You! A fine informant you are! Whose side are you on?"

Slightly only laughed.

Peter ignored them both. He was too busy conjuring each and every detail that Alice had shown him to bother with Slightly and Augustine. After her warning and instructions, she had given him specific images. They were clipped and fragmented and hard to follow, but perhaps, if he thought over them hard enough, he would find something he had missed before.

Grey cloaks and beheaded Braves and purple smoke over Volterra. There were chains and prison cells and there was Darling in Volterra.

Slightly sobered quickly. "That's impossible."

"What is?" Augustine asked.

"The memory… vision… Peter, you weren't anywhere near Volterra then, yet you saw part of the battle. The prophet foretold all that?"

"Yes."

Slightly whistled. "Now that is a useful gift. Wait, show me again."

Peter ran through Alice's visions once more until Slightly mentally ordered him to pause.

That one. Stop there.

What is it?

That's not Volterra.

It's not?

No. The background there. Behind where Darling is tied. I've seen that painting before. It's at Vladimir and Stefan's manor in the Apuseni Mountains of Romania.

"We need to go to Romania!" Peter shouted, standing to his feet again.

Ifeh and Augustine both groaned. "Why are we going to Romania?"

"To find Darling."

Oooooo


Five vampires lived in the sprawling white manor house, far up in the grassy foothills nestled against the grey, craggy mountains. The advancing autumn had bathed the grasses in an earthy brown cloak and the trees wore their finest orange and red leaves in preparation for winter.

"Augustine, old friend," Stefan said, when they arrived at the gate. "I do not believe we have ever had the honor of such a visit before!"

He ushered them into a comfortable parlor lined with furniture that all appeared older than the country itself, at least, in its most current form. A fire roared in the hearth but the manor was strangely silent. Other than the five minds within, Peter could hear no other life. The house also felt somehow tired. Perhaps it was the cracks in the paint on the walls or the slight holes in the carpet in front of the fireplace that gave him this impression. The manor's grandeur seemed as faded as the pair of former vampire overlords themselves, each as equally antiquated in their choice of attire.

They were hospitable enough and more than willing to spend hours sharing trifling details with Augustine about all the affairs in their coven. Stefan and Vladimir's ignorance of affairs beyond their own territory was obvious and Peter could only assume they did not bother to leave their lands more than once a decade or so. They were entirely settled in one location and rarely did any come into the manor and even more rarely did anyone leave it.

"Tell me, we have just come from Volterra," Augustine began and Slightly cast a mental wink to Peter.

Now, he's ready. He'll get them talking without them knowing he's got them talking. No matter how many times I see him work, it never gets old.

"Volterra? Is it still an abode for old ghosts and inept vampires?" Stefan asked, casting a sly glance at Vladimir.

"I heard you spent some good time there, after the Volturi caught like rats in traps."

"We did, we did!" Vladimir said.

"I have spoken with many about the first battle that occurred there. Were you perhaps there that day?"

"We were," Stefan said, much more hesitant in his manner than Vladimir.

"We were hoping someone could tell us the fate of the Volturi lords. No one seems to remember. Do you happen to know what fate befell Caius and Aro?"

"For what purpose do you wish to know?" Stefan asked.

"Ah, the indulgence of an old vampire whose yearling days were spent in the same circles as the Volturi lords. You may have heard; it was Caius who took my mate from me and who owed me a blood debt for her loss."

"I see."

The pair appeared lost in thought, but Peter could see their minds flood with memories of that day. They had been hesitant to join in the battle themselves. Instead they stayed at the margins, watching like vultures, waiting to snatch back their preferred positions in the vampire world once all the heads had finished rolling.

"We heard that Caius was beheaded by the Indus Valley coven," Stefan said. "We did not see it occur."

"We did see the final fate of Aro," Vladimir added. "It was a marvelous sight."

"It would warm my heart to know he suffered! Tell me, I hope it was not too easy a death," Augustine prodded.

"He did! He did! There was one of his brothers," Vladimir said, with a nod in Slightly's direction, "and he crossed over a hill just by where we were hiding… I mean waiting… just where we were waiting. Then he smashed through a stone wall to reveal a stairway. Aro was just coming from up the stairs, purple smoke billowing behind him, and the vampire took him by surprise. He tackled the old vampire straight back down the steps and the entire ground shook with the impact from when they fell."

That looked like Thomas, Slightly thought to Peter.

Peter agreed.

"We decided to give him aid and so followed him into the stairwell. It led to an underground prison. There, Aro and your brother fought viciously against each other. We gave aid and so Aro was overcome. We did not rest until Aro made his own cloud of smoke and we knew we could rest."

"It was our greatest of victories," Stefan added in smug satisfaction.

What they failed to say out loud was the fact that they followed Thomas into the stairwell to find out just what Aro kept hidden there more than to fight against Aro. They were convinced it must be something of great worth for Aro to leave the field of battle to seek it out. They were proved right when they found just who Aro kept in that prison.

After decapitating Aro, Thomas turned to fight the Romanians. He had already been so wounded in his fight against Aro that the pair easily overpowered him and added him to the bonfire. Then, they found what he had fought to keep them from discovering.

They recognized her at once.

"It is her! It is the vampire queen! The shield that no one can penetrate!"

She was prostrate on the stone floor and covered in dirt. Her sobs shook her entire body and she did not seem to notice their presence. Neither wished to discover what would happen once she did notice them so instead of a direct confrontation, they simply lunged and beheaded her together.

Essentially neutralized, they then decided to keep her there. The pair took turns guarding her and did not speak a word about her to anyone. Once it became clear that the former allies were turning on each other, the pair fled back to Romania and determined to return, once the dust had settled.

They brought their prize back with them to Romania and reassembled her (minus her arms and feet) in one of their cellars. There they kept her, trying in vain to make her useful in some way or another but she would not even eat for them, let alone fulfill any of their wishes or demands. So, they took her apart again and kept her in a chest.

Peter was furious. He lunged at the pair, his hands aiming for their necks and he roared like an angered lion.

"What did you do with her? Where is she?" he asked.

They were both taken aback and stared with wide eyes at the man with his hands around Stefan's neck.

"Who?"

"Darling. Where did you put her?"

"Darling? Why would we know anything about Darling?" Stefan said.

"How do you know about that? It's impossible!" Vladimir said, much to Stefan's irritation.

"I will ask you one more time and then I will snap your head myself. Where is Darling?"

Stefan looked over at his brother, who reluctantly nodded.

They pulled an old chest, nearly as tall as Peter's waist, out of a wardrobe in one of the rooms on the second story. Vladimir fumbled with a lock. There, inside, coated with leaking venom and old dust, lay Darling, or at least, what was left of her. She looked to be more of a broken porcelain doll than a vampire queen and at the sight of it, both Slightly and Augustine had to restrain Peter from lunging at the pair again.

"There is your Darling," Vladimir said, as if she really were a discarded toy. "Take her. She is useless. She refuses to eat or use her shield or share her secrets or even speak anything that sounds like sense. The Volturi broke her long before we found her. She's lucky we kept Aro from finishing her off."

"You cannot just give her away," Vladimir complained.

Their thoughts told of their true reluctance to part with what they considered their "war trophy." If it had been any other time, they would have fought much harder to keep her. She was the last dwindling piece of their old dream of world domination, the last weapon they hoped to use to restore them to their old place of glory. Now, they were finally coming to terms with the fact that they would not become what they once were, even without the Volturi's interference.

They had fallen on hard times. With the new treaties in place with the Romanian government, the vampires were forced to buy their food rather than hunt. The surrounding villages all recognized them and any missteps would lead to their permanent exile from Romania. The vampire that had once been in charge of their finances had absconded, taking most of their ready funds with him.

They were just desperate enough to part with their stolen relic, if they could get a few months' meals out of it.

"Fine. What price do you want to ask for her?" Slightly snapped. He was nearly as angry as Peter and was having a hard time feigning calm.

"For such a symbol, for such a shield, what can be asked? She is beyond monetary compensation."

It was Augustine who took over negotiations. He glared at Peter and Slightly, his mind clearly warning them each to keep their mouths shut and their hands to themselves. Augustine gave the Romanians a grin that reminded Peter of a shark and he motioned to the chest.

"Will a hundred bottles of blood be acceptable?"

"So little? It is an insult! It is not to be born."

"A hundred and ten. You must remember, this is not just any blood. This is the finest the Maghreb can offer! Only for you, for my old friends, would I give such a price!"

"Make it a hundred and fifty."

"Agreed," Augustine said.

They are fortunate I don't take both their heads for this, Peter hissed in his mind to Slightly.

Don't worry. Augustine will make them pay, somehow.

It was only after they had Darling safely back in Tunisia that Augustine sent the Romanians the promised payment. There were exactly a hundred and fifty bottles of blood, just as he promised.

A hundred and fifty bottles of animal blood.

oooo


Darling

2604 A.D.

Darling came to consciousness to sound of familiar rhythm of Andalusian music drifting through an open window. It was a sound so unexpected that she smiled. Her thoughts, so fragmented before, slowly coalesced and she realized she was being fed blood from a bottle. Strong arms held her like an infant and kept the bottle to her lips. She nearly pushed the bottle away, until she realized it was not the terrible, delicious taste of human blood, but the earthy, simple taste of deer and bear and lion. Her relief was so great that she closed her eyes and drank deeply, though she was too weak to cling to the neck of the bottle herself. A gentle voice hummed a song to her, running hands through her hair as she drank. When it ran dry, she cried out, only to be given another. And another.

She felt herself being placed on a mat on the floor and there she lay, still too weak to open her eyes or move. The sound of voices wisped past her like the wings of an insect and she could not make any sense of their meaning. Still, the sound was comforting and so she did not think more about it. Instead, she let her mind drift along with the sounds and let her consciousness recede into darkness.

Her window grew light and dark and then light again, bathing the space around her in ever-changing light. More bottles came and were emptied. She could not keep count of how many or who brought them, but they tasted better than anything she had ever even imagined. When she was finally satisfied, she wondered if she had ever been so hungry before. In all her years of long fasts, self-imposed restraint, and Volterra's intentional starvation, she had never, not once, been quite that thirsty before. She basked in the feeling of contentment and strength returning to her, of her senses finally waking up as if from sleep.

When she opened her eyes next, she found herself staring into the familiar face of Augustine. His bright blue turban shouted against the tan rock walls behind him and she recognized the simple furnishing of the room in his ksar which he always said was "hers." He knelt beside her on the clay tiled floor. He broke into a brilliant smile when he saw her reach out for him.

"Dulcissima," he cried and he fondly ran one hand along her cheek. "We have you back at last. I thought we had lost you."

She blinked.

"I am not in Volterra?" She said, both as a statement and a question.

He chuckled. "I certainly hope not. That placed is as cursed as Barzakh now and none but owls and rats are fit to live there."

"Oh, I am not in Volterra!" she cried out in absolute relief and she sat up to throw her arms around Augustine. She'd never been quite so happy to see the old vampire in her life and she clung to him like the very dearest of friends. Compared to the Volturi, he really was. He returned her embrace when he felt her sobs wracking through her and he patted her back placatingly.

"Shhh, Dulcissima, shhh. You are safe. You are home now and no one will make you return to Volterra. The Volturi are all gone. You did all you set out to do and more. You are safe and can rest."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "It didn't go quite the way I wished for it too."

"What is this? Such words from the queen who singlehandedly defeated the Volturi… while chained and locked in an underground prison? No! I will not hear it! You accomplished everything we set out to and more and you will go down in our legends for as long as stories are told!"

Not single-handed, she thought to herself. A fresh wave of grief washed over her as she remembered her accomplice and how little of what had been accomplished was done without him.

John had gotten his wish. She still lived. She was free... and so was he, in his own way. She wished she knew a way to thank him, but she rather thought he already knew, that he could see where she now lay.

"How did you find me? I thought I would be trapped there forever," she asked Augustine.

"Ah, yes, well, we would have come for you sooner, if we had known where to find you. Slightly and I searched through all Volterra for you but none alive knew where Aro had hidden you away… and then, did you know you took a detour to Romania?"

"Romania? I wasn't sure what happened. After the Braves came and Aro killed John, I, well, I had not had anything to drink in a very long time. I used so much energy shielding anyone I could find, I am afraid I paid more attention to what was happening outside of my cell then within. I know I was moved and someone tried to force me to drink from a human, but I thought it was Caius back to torment me more. I was so tired. I do not remember what happened. Romania, though? Really?"

"In pieces. In a chest."

"Cowards. Only Stefan and Vladimir would fear facing me so much they instead trapped me in a chest."

"I should have left them both in pieces. Imbeciles."

"I'd rather spend a hundred years in pieces than a single day in Volterra's prison."

"Ah, Dulcissima, I apologize for how long you had to wait for us," Augustine said and he caught her head in his hands and leaned his forehead against hers for a moment. "You should not have had to endure what you did."

"But you found me!"

"Not anywhere near soon enough," he said and he released her so he could trail one finger along her arms. The white jebba she wore fell loose at her elbows and revealed the pattern of scars now permanently etched into her skin. She covered her arms with her hands, suddenly self-conscious. She knew it was not only her arms that were now "decorated" with Volturi "artwork" and she did not want to see Augustine's pity- or his anger- when he noticed.

"I did not think I would ever escape, yet here I am. That is enough."

"Ah, I wish I could take the credit and have such a debt of gratitude, all to myself, but I am not so fortunate. There was another, more dedicated than I, that insisted we not give up until we found you."

"Who?"

Augustine did not answer. Another set of footsteps made their way up the old stone stairs to her room and a man with long auburn hair, streaked with grey, tied back behind his head in a series of braids, entered. He sought her out, but he stalled in the doorway, unsure whether to enter further or step back out into the walkway.

"There he is," Augustine said gently. "I believe you two know each other."

For a moment, neither could speak. They simply stared, each one drinking in the sight of the other like a weary camel at a long sought well.

"Peter," she mouthed, but no sound came out. She closed her eyes and opened them again, just to make sure she was not seeing a ghost. When he still stood there, as tall as the doorway and nearly as wide, she leapt from the floor to bury herself in his chest with all her strength. "Oh, thank the stars and heavens above, you are alive!"

Her sobs began again, so fierce her entire body quaked with their violence and she dared not look up to see his face, in case she found anger or indifference there. Instead, she kept her arms wrapped around his back and refused to let go or loosen her hold. She basked in the familiar scent of him, the feel of him all around her, so very real and alive and present. When she remembered where she had last seen him and the desperate sound of his cries, she only wept harder.

"I do seem to be alive," he answered. She could hear the smile in his voice. Then she felt his arms around her shoulders, returning the embrace, and she feared lest he disappear just as suddenly. Every moment was stolen - a treasure she had already forfeited and all the more illicit for its current possession.

"Why are you here?" She cried into his chest, still failing to look up.

"Because you are," he answered, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world and not the one which utterly confounded her.

"You came for me?"

"Of course, I came for you."

"Why?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't deserve it."

"Maybe not," he answered. His lips pressed against the top of her head. Then his arms folded around her and lifted her from the floor. He carried her away from the doorway to allow Augustine's subtle retreat. A silent communication passed between them and then the door closed. Peter sank onto the floor by the window, with her still ensconced in his arms. He held her there, tightly against his chest, and through her continued cries, she could hear him sing.

Was it a single day or a dozen days that they spent interlocked together beneath the window? Darling could never tell. It didn't matter. It could have been a thousand days and she would not have wished to move once nor be anywhere else than right where she was. Peter's songs vibrated through his chest and filled the room around them and each space between them. When her cries dwindled, she simply closed her eyes and stayed as she was so she could listen.

Oooo


Ifeh brought them fresh clothes, washbasins of water, and a bouquet of flowers. She placed these by the mat on the floor and she knelt beside the pair so she could take both their hands in hers. Darling was flooded with Ifeh's parting gift – a shower of comfort that made her believe that everything really could be alright.

"The flowers are from Slightly. He will see you, when you are ready," Ifeh said. "We will travel inland for some days and return soon."

Darling grasped Ifeh's hand in hers and gave it a squeeze in thanks. She understood what Ifeh didn't say. Slightly wanted to give them privacy. By the silence around the ksar, she could tell Augustine had cleared out most of the other residents and it was only Peter and Darling that remained.

With a meaningful look at Peter, Ifeh left them on their own.

He was silent for some time. Then he gently placed her on the floor so he could stand and look out the window. Night had fallen and she could see a sliver of moon beyond the navy brocade of sky. He inhaled deeply and leaned against the wall by the window, his eyes fixed only on her. She could feel the weight of them, piercing straight through her, as they always had done.

"Darling… I would have gone with you… I would have stayed with you… in Volterra, in Romania, through all of it."

"I know."

"It is all empty words and empty sentiments if you do not allow me to prove it with my actions."

She sighed and finally looked up to see his face. His beautiful face that was so torn in an expression of such bitter heartbreak that she almost looked away again. "I never doubted you, not for a minute. Peter, it's because I know your promises are not empty that I did what I did."

"You robbed me, Darling. You stole away the opportunity for me to be by your side through anything and everything that you went through. You chose to face Volterra alone."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Peter, I couldn't… John, if you had seen what they did to him… if that had been you instead of him… I could not have borne it. I could not. The way John suffered because he claimed to be my mate… it was terrible. Peter, he took your punishment for you and he died in your place. There is no way you would have survived Volterra."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, Peter. I do. Forgive me, please forgive me, but I would rather have you alive spouting out promises of love than dead and fulfilling them."

"How many times are we going to do this, Darling? Don't make decisions for my life without me. We should have decided together. Don't you remember anything we talked about, anything I said, before?"

"Every single last word of it… every moment… I never, not once, stopped thinking about those precious days in Scotland.

"I used to think the mating bond was a weakness," she said. "Now I believe it is also a strength. You were with me in Volterra. Each day, knowing I needed to survive to come back for you made me keep going."

He deflated at that and he moved to sit beside her on the floor. "Darling, I told you, you are the queen of terrible ideas. Locking me up for my own good was the worst idea you have ever had."

Perhaps she should have agreed with him. Perhaps, she should even have regretted it. No matter how she tried, Darling failed. She decided she was far too selfish for that. Now that he was still before her, still whole, unscarred, and so fully alive, she thought it just might have been one of the best ideas of her entire life.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I don't deserve your forgiveness. You have every right to be angry with me."

"Anger isn't a strong enough word. Darling, do you have any idea what it was like for me to watch you walk straight into the crocodile's mouth while I was completely powerless over the outcome? That was the worst pain I have ever felt – you did not trust me enough, need me enough, want me enough, to bring me with you."

"I hated it, too. I hated most of what happened from that moment till I woke here. I love you more than my life and yet I seem to do nothing but bring you pain. Something is wrong with the universe to make you bound to me. The problem is never you. It is always, always me."

He groaned. "There you go again. Always coming back to the same flawed idea. Why can't you understand? I don't want to be bound to someone else. I wouldn't change the bond even if I could.

"You cannot make me let you go. You cannot make me stay away from you. You can try. You have tried. You have failed. I am still here and I will not leave your side again. I do not care if it means I have to follow you to the very ends of the earth again or be chained in another cave for two hundred more years, I will still fight with all my strength to remain at your side.

"If you are darkness, then you are my darkness. If you are light, then you are my light. You are mine, no matter what you do."

She began to cry in earnest then and she hid her face in her hands to avoid how the very intensity of his gaze sought to drown her with its utter sincerity.

"I don't understand. How can you… I'm not worth it… I don't deserve you," she whispered.

"That's not really the point. You have me and I'm still yours. Forever."

"Forever sounds like an awfully big adventure," she said.

He chuckled. "Not anywhere near long enough."

He used his thumb to force her eyes to meet his. She stayed, fighting with all her strength not to push him away out of continued disbelief and rejection of herself. She was his. She tried to bask in the truth of that and let it overwhelm all the whispers of doubts and fears which still lingered in the shadows of her mind.

They stayed intertwined together, till the light of the moon sought them through the open window and bathed the pair in its iridescent light. For each one of Peter's years of isolation, a caress was required. For each of Darling's scars, the brush of a kiss. Like a statue forged of gold with toes of clay, she crumbled and found she much preferred the rest of her to be made of soft, malleable clay, rather than cold, unpassionate metal.

ooooo


They sat on the roof of the ksar, both staring out into Augustine's garden and the waves of the Mediterranean beyond. She wore a royal blue jebba, far simpler than any of the Tunisian dresses Augustine had ever gifted her, but she had chosen it herself and she liked it. A translucent scarf fell around her shoulders and trailed behind her back to her waist. She wore no jewelry and her feet remained bare.

"Where should we go next?" she asked. She ran her hands through Peter's hair, which she had messed until it fell entirely unkempt and tangled down his back.

"I don't care. Where do you want to go?"

"Did you want to go find Bell?" she asked.

Peter clamped down on the hand in his hair and forced her to come around to face him. "Why would I want to go find Bell?"

"You said she was worried about you."

"Darling, I vanished off the face of the earth for a hundred and eighty-eight years. She had every right to be worried about me."

"So, do you want to go to her, next?"

Peter threw up his hands into the air and vehemently shook his head. "Why must it all come back to Bell? I spent over two hundred and fifty years waiting for you. You'll forgive me if I don't want to share you with anyone else, at least for a few months. Wherever we go, we are going alone. Without Bell and Slightly. I don't want to see Augustine or Michael or anyone else you can think of."

She threw her head back and laughed a full, vibrant laugh. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Whatever you want, dearest. Now, tell me, where do you want to go?"

"I don't care. We can come up with a plan on the way. Let us just go together."

"Could we stop by Neverland first?"

"Why?"

"There are some books that need to be closed before we can start reading new ones."

"Fine. You'll forgive me if I fail to follow you into Tiger Lily's Camp this time… or ever again."

"You can tear it to pieces, if you like."

"I'd rather not look at it, actually."

"Whatever you want, dearest."

"Darling, stop saying that. You are mocking me."

"Whatever you want, dearest," she said again, her smile now showing each and every one of her venomous teeth.

"Ugh! You are entirely incorrigible," he said. Then he disentangled her arms from his neck so he could pull her back into his lap and kiss her quiet.

Oooo


They wandered what was left of the empty, crumbling walls of Neverland. It echoed with the sound of their footsteps, but theirs were the only footsteps, the only signs of life. Rooms undisturbed for over a hundred and eighty-eight years finally felt a breath of life stir through the accumulated dust and currents of air swept through the rafters overhead. Some rooms were entirely destroyed. Still, they were able to dig through debris enough to find what they sought.

Peter unearthed his deid bell and he insisted on ringing it up and down each of the halls and barracks. He spent hours singing Pirate songs in honor of all the companions they had not had the chance to say "good-bye" to and who they would never see again.

"John would have appreciated it," Darling said, when he finished.

"So would Smee... and the others. I wish I could have seen them all, one last time."

"I wish I knew what became of Captain Hook. I was rather fond of her."

"Awful beast."

"She was beautiful!"

"I beg to differ."

"Speaking of awful, what should we do with this horrid painting?" Darling asked. She motioned to the painting on the wall behind the dais and gave a self-deprecating smile. "Burn it or bury it?"

"You know, I rather think I'll keep it. It does flatter you so."

"Oh, Peter, you wouldn't! It's awful!"

"No, no. I definitely need to keep it, but you see that fellow there? The one kneeling before you? Perhaps I should give him a beard."

Darling barked a laugh and nestled her head into his shoulder.

"Whatever you wish, dearest," she whispered into his ear.

He snorted a laugh and pushed her off his shoulder in retribution. "Stop that," he said, without really meaning it. "Is that it then?"

She had accumulated a large pile of papers, documents, and possessions she meant to burn. A second pile had the belongings she planned to bring along with her.

She added most of what remained of her "royalness" onto the "to be burned" pile and thought nothing of it. Her new t-shirt proudly displayed a picture of a green clad boy with a feathered hat. Over it, the caption said, "I'm So Fly I Never Land." She liked it so much she had bought it in three different colors. Now, in her ponytail and jeans, she felt an outsider in the grand hall she had once presided over and it was strange to sift through her old life again. She didn't miss it...at least, not much of it.

She pointed at her "to keep" pile and shrugged. "I think so. All that jewelry has enough precious metals to get us by for a while."

"You sure you don't want to wear them?"

"Not if I can help it."

"Whatever you wish, dearest," he parroted to her in a high-pitched imitation of her favored phrase and he received the answering laugh he sought.

He added his own few items to the "burn" pile.

"You know, I do believe it is time we change your name," he told her then.

"What? Why?"

"Because 'Wendy Moira Angela Darling' is such a mouthful. It takes you half a century just to introduce yourself. Really, I think you will find my suggestion much more economical."

"Hmm, if you are about to suggest I be called 'Petra', I think Augustine might protest."

"While that does have a certain ring to it, that's not exactly what I had in mind. No. There are far too many Peters running about these days. That's part of the problem. I think I should also change my name."

"What did you have in mind?"

"I think 'Mrs. Darling' suits you better."

"Is that so? Would that make you 'Mr. Darling'?"

"Why, yes. Yes it would."

"I do believe I like that better than 'Peter.' Your namesake would be scandalized."

"All the better. There is a time we all must grow up," he said with a resigned sigh.

"You were born all grown up and you've been an old man since."

"Oh, I was referring to you."

Darling's laugh echoed off the walls and cavernous ceiling of Tiger Lily's Camp, intermingled with Peter's. She moved to throw her match on her pile of belongings. It went up in flames easily and the golden flickers of light danced off the tapestries around them.

"What shall we do with the rest of this place?" Peter asked. "Should we bury it?"

"Why bother? I have no more secrets here. Let somebody else make what they will of Neverland."

"Good, because honestly, I don't think I want to come back."

"Me either."

oooooo


So, Peter and Darling left Neverland together, leaving a shallow set of footprints in the sand behind them - footprints which would soon be buried along with half a millennium worth of ghosts. Neither head turned back to the ruined door or the deep shadows within the underground kingdom. Neverland itself would become an offering to the desert, its corpse mummified by the dry wind and fierce Saharan sun, its tales hidden by sands until a future generation came along to unearth them.

Tales are still told by firelight, stories whispered under the light of the moon. Yet in these tales, the Jinni's Bride no longer weeps. It is her laughter, instead, which echoes through the canyons of the Tibesti Mountains and weaves its way into the legends of those fortunate enough to still hear tales at the time when stories are told.

Oooooo


"Of course Peter promised; and then he flew away. He took Mrs. Darling's kiss with him. The kiss that had been for no one else, Peter took quite easily. Funny. But she seemed satisfied."

J.M. Barrie. Peter Pan


Well, there we have it.

This particular chapter was heavily inspired by story of Hosea, a Biblical prophet who was told to intentionally marry an unfaithful woman and then rescue her and bring her home after she'd made herself a mess. It's a tale illustrating undeserved, unconditional love.

...

For those of you who could benefit from it, here's a timeline of events (of both stories):

2604: Ayan al-Zain stumbles onto Neverland. Peter and Darling are rescued and reunited.

2434: Volterra falls.

2416: John betrays Darling. The Volturi come to Neverland and take John and Darling captive. Peter is locked away.

-Michael is reunited with Bell. Peter helps them escape. They join the Cullens and Mikie is born.

-Neverland suffers damage from human conflict around them.

2414: Michael sent to Volterra as spy-2 years in Volterra

2411: Michael turned, taught to control gift.

2408: Michael is formed, socialized by Bell, both humans.

2405: Rumors of Aro coming. Darling creates Tinkerbell's house and creates Tinkerbell.

2400-Tiger Lily IV's death.

2400-Volturi visit Augustine

2388- Peter placed in charge of Tiger Lily

2399- "guest" caught by Volturi. Aro starts searching for Darling

2385: human Peter turned, made into general, Now tends vampire newborns as well as humans.

2360: Tiger Lily IV made

2359: Tiger Lily III dies-old age.

2357: Isabella marries mate

2368: human Peter made to tend human fledglings

2350-human peter made

2330-Second generation John/Curly/Nibs/Thomas made and changed.

2315: Slightly made/changed

2294: Tiger Lily III made

2292: Tiger Lily II made- Peter II kills her instead of taking care of her (2294). Darling creates Tiger Lily's Camp.

2287-first clone of Edward made

-Tiger Lily I made

2277: Darling returns to Chad to create Neverland.

2253-Augustine comes to Volterra.

2252: Peabody works in Barzkah/Isabella meets brothers

2250: Anthony dies, buried in London cemetary. Darling exhumes both Anthony and Buffy for DNA.

2248: Darling visits Anthony

2243: Jasper learns truth

2230: Buffy dies of natural causes, buried in London cemetary

2178: Darling enters Voluturi, learns to use gift, learns ways of vampire world.

2177: Operations in Barzkah cease/Isabella born/Darling "reborn"/Edward dies/Buffy and Anthony meet

2176: Badiyah dies, Buffy released, Anthony born

2175: Darling born, Edward begins looking for Badiyah

2174: Dawlah born

2172: Badiyah runs away, Buffy born.

2155: Badiyah takes over Bellas

2153: Badiyah takes over trade

2148: Badiyah is "born"

2109: monthly production begins

2089: first Bella formed

2065: Edward leaves Cullens and travels to Barzkah

2004: Bella Swan dies first day in Forks.

1987: Bella Swan born