Disclaimer: All these chapters and I still don't own anything from Peter Pan. Shucks.
A meadow green with splashes of soft yellows and pinks. The sun radiating a comforting warmth which warred with the persistent wind that preceded the looming storm clouds. The rain was a ways off, nothing to concern the young men watching their horses rest and talking quietly.
"I do think it's about time we returned, Young Master," suggested a young man not much older than his companion. He had fair hair tied with a red ribbon and wide eyes dancing with worry.
The other young man, with long dark curls, looked off into the distance with forget-me-not eyes. "Not quite yet, Andrew. There's still much time before Father comes home."
"Your mother wanted you home-"
"That woman is not my mother."
"It's getting late. Your step-mother will be angry!" The Young Master was silent; running his fingers through the soft mane of his bay mare.
"Please! I am asking as...," he paused awkwardly; wondering if he was being too forward, "as your friend!"
The young man didn't turn to acknowledge his companion's pleas, but his hand stilled on the horse. "All right, Andrew," he muttered.
Andrew breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank you, Young Master!"
"How many times must I ask you to call me James?"
"As many times as you want, but it's likely I shan't call you anything but Young Master. At least until you become the true master of the house."
A frown appeared upon James' face for a fleeting moment, before turning impassive. "The true master? Not with that woman married to my father's purse."
"Young Master!"
James sneered, the expression marring his handsome features. "She's a daemon."
The fair haired man laughed nervously, "More like a faerie, I'd say."
Andrew's attempt at humor made the corners of his lips tug upward. "You do know that there's no such thing as-"
"Don't! You know what happens when someone says that!" The anxious man worried the edge of his cloak with equally nervous fingers. Andrew worried about everything. The fact that he was as superstitious as a sailor never helped.
James smirked and brushed a stray lock of hair from his eyes. Defiantly, he shouted, "There is no such thing as faeries!" The look on Andrew's face made him laugh outright. "You see? The sky did not come crashing down upon me!" To prove his point, he raised his arms to the heavens as if daring them to pierce his body with lightning.
"'Tis terrible bad luck to go challenging the skies, Young Master."
Shaking his head, James pulled himself onto his horse. "Come Andrew. We don't want to keep Mother waiting."
They gathered as the young men departed, gliding silently on the winds from all corners of the meadow. There was something amiss. There was no cheerful bell laughter and chuckles of the winds. Instead the wind howled, shrieking in fear and sorrow. They watched, but the light had already gone out. There was no saving her. Their hearts bled.
They carried the lifeless form of the girl, their Princess. She'd been so young, not even reaching the age to take a husband. Her beautiful violet eyes, closed forever in a mockery of sleep. Her long silver hair trailing behind, whipping in the wind that implored her to wake and play with it, for it was getting lonely.
They brought her home. Her parents, deny it at first, but then tears flood their eyes and pour into a waterfall of sorrow and despair. There was only one thing to ease their grief. Revenge. Their sorrow must be matched! The boy, shouting to the universe, "There is no such thing as faeries!"
He must be punished. He will be punished. Eternally.
The wind was harsh now, ripping at clothes and hair of the young men upon the horses. It wouldn't be long before the storm began. The horses tossed their heads and whined in fright. "Hurry Young Master!" Andrew shouted over the roar. "We're almost there!"
James urged his mare forward, but she would not cooperate. "Damnation!" He jumped down from the horse and grabbed her reins. He ran his hands over her head, murmuring soothing words into her large ears. She calmed and James hauled himself into place on her back once more. "Come!"
They were racing the storm now. The horses galloped as fast as their legs could carry them and their riders. Sweat drenched their bodies and spittle flew from their mouths, but their riders could only focus on their destination and the danger behind them. James and Andrew charged through the gates and didn't stop until they were inside the stable. They each slid off their horses, gasping harshly for breath. Stable boys rushed from their game of cards to see to the frightened horses. They had to calm the beasts before they could water and feed them.
"This is strange weather, Young Master. I told you it was terrible bad luck to challenge the skies."
James was unconvinced. "This has nothing to do with what I said or did. The storm was already brewing when we left. I couldn't have possibly conjured it with my actions!"
Andrews already wide eyes grew in what looked to be fear. James wondered if his companion was quite all right. Perhaps he'd worn down his nerves just a little more than he should have. "J-James!"
The use of his given name caught his attention. He narrowed his eyes in confusion. "What is wrong with you?"
"You- You're bleeding!"
"What are you talking about?" He looked down at himself, but didn't see or feel any wounds. He hadn't gotten wounded at all...
"You're crying! Crying... blood!" Andrew's eyes rolled upward into his head and he crumpled to the floor.
James raised a hand to his face; touching the corner of his eye. His fingers were stained with crimson. "What the deuce?"
Beyond the walls of the stable, the sky wept. His heart was so full of anger, jealousy, and disappointment. They took advantage of it. They made sure it would never lessen--only grow. Grow until it took over him and kept him firmly captive until he would finally, in the end, go mad. There was one way to undo the curse. They did not worry. True love could never touch a heart as raging and frozen as his.