Author's Note:
Hello everyone! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed (and who should have gotten messages)! I really appreciate you taking the time to do so and to read my story in general. :) It makes me insanely happy. Per usual, I'm sorry this is so late- grad school runs my life, much as I'd rather have Peter and Wendy run it (in fact, a significant part of this chapter was written during various lectures, but I digress). Either way, on to thank you's/replies to the reviewers who don't have accounts:
Anon- you are more than welcome! I am very happy to answer questions when I can. I love that people are interested enough to ask questions! You are right in that Pan is very intelligent and not easy to fool. And I have to confess that I'm intrigued (in a good way) my story has made you think that way. It's the first time I've ever
wandered into a gray moral area with my stories; usually villains/heroes are very obvious and you want the heroes to win. I'm almost excited you don't know who to root for. ;)
Guest- YOU HAVE MORE! OVER 13,000 WORDS MORE!
Other Guest- It's certainly not a great situation, but unfortunately, they have to fight against Pan. They're all hoping to win the game soon, so ideally Henry won't be without his heart for long.
Thank you again to Hildebrant for an awesome chapter title. I love the other one you gave me, and I'm 99.9999% sure it will be used for the next chapter (would have been used for this one, but I decided to split this chapter and the next one, because if I didn't, it wouldn't have been published for ages). Anyway, thank you. ^_^
Finally, again, a huge thank you to EVERYONE so much for reading and supporting my story! I hope you enjoy the chapter!
~ladykikyo
Chapter 19: I fold and falter, empty altar, all I gave I pray it makes me whole, I think the brink's around the corner- There's an error in my soul
After her conversation with Henry, Wendy couldn't help but feel something she hadn't felt in a long time: hope. She wasn't sure what she was hoping for, exactly- what would happen if the Charmings won? Would Peter die, and for good this time? She didn't want him dead- if nothing else, she knew that. But she didn't want Henry dead, either.
But if the Charmings won, what would Peter do? If he lived, would he simply return to Neverland? And if he did, what would he do there? According to him, the island was still in danger. He wouldn't give up on his kingdom. He would never be content to live in Storybrooke and start a new life. He would begin to hunt from world to world, looking for another solution to save Neverland. Someone would end up on the sacrificial altar, if he had his way, and he almost always did.
Unless they trapped him here. Then Peter would have no choice but to start over. As a boy. Not a king, but a boy.
For some reason, that thought made her a bit happier, and so when she returned to the table she shared with Peter, she was smiling, and Peter noticed:
"What's gotten into you, Bird?"
"Nothing," Wendy smiled at him, cocking her head to the side. Peter was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them.
"Tell the truth, Darling," Pan commanded. He narrowed his eyes at her, green, ethereal orbs glowing in the dull fluorescent diner lights.
The girl continued her act, "I'm just...excited." The word slipped easily at the end of the sentence, as if it always should have been there, and while she could tell Peter was still suspicious, he took the bait:
"About what normal thing are you excited this time?" he inquired, "Because the football game was entertaining, I'll give you that, Bird," he paused, considering what the Lost Boys- both new and old -had shared with him. There seemed to be many things on Storybrooke High's calendar. It was almost as if they were making up for lost time, and so shoving any possible excuse for an event into the span of a few weeks.
"Oh," Pan breathed, certain he had happened upon the answer, "The dance. That's what you're excited for. You always did like dances." He looked at her pointedly, and his facial expression was somewhere between self-satisfaction and- wistfulness?
Wendy decided she was going to let him think that. It was always easier to lie to Pan when he'd already come up with a conclusion himself. He rarely, if ever, doubted himself, so all she had to do was confirm his theory and he'd most likely stop pressing the issue.
"Yes. I did." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as Ruby approached with her grilled cheese- and a hamburger, which apparently was what Felix (now seated back at the bar) had recommended for Peter. Peter, for a moment, stopped staring at her to examine what was on his plate. He raised an eyebrow, then carefully picked up the top bun. Ruby watched him, clearly amused by his puzzlement.
"You want ketchup with that?"
"What?" Pan shifted uncomfortably in the booth, apparently still taken aback by the offending dish. Imagined food was so much better than this. At least he could tell what it was by one look- what was this thing? Why had Felix even suggested it? It looked like a slab of old meat pressed between two pieces of bread. Long strips of what smelt like salted potatoes were next to it, and he seemed less suspicious of those (mostly because they smelt good). He was still rather dubious about the burger, however.
"Yes," Wendy answered for him, daintily taking a bite of her own sandwich. After spending over a hundred years with someone, even someone you despised, you couldn't help learning their tastes. She was fairly certain Peter would like ketchup with his burger.
"Mustard?" Ruby inquired, this time directing the question only to Wendy. Judging from Pan's reaction, he apparently couldn't decide whether he was annoyed that he was being ignored or pleased Wendy knew what he would want. He shifted his eyes back and forth from the girl he knew was a Wolf to the girl he knew was a Bird.
"You could ask me, you know," Pan told the waitress, apparently deciding on righteous indignation. He drummed his fingers against the table. His plate vibrated against the plastic with a ring that grated on Wendy's ears. She sighed. Mass-murderer he might be, killer he was, sometimes utterly mad, but he could also be such a child when he wanted to.
"I would," Ruby retorted, "If you had any idea what I was talking about." Subtly, Wendy shook her head at her- both a response to whether Peter would want mustard (no) and a warning not to push him further. Like a child, if brought to a point, he could throw a tantrum. Usually, though, the tantrums ended up in death, and Wendy liked Ruby too much to see her dead- let alone over mustard.
Luckily for her, Ruby noticed Wendy's gesture and took that as her cue to leave. She sashayed behind the bar, her hips swinging in time with the song playing softly over the radio. As she disappeared into the kitchen, Felix turned to glance at Peter. Wendy could practically see the exchange between the two:
I can kill her, if you want.
With what? Using your switchblade would be a waste on her.
A chair works just as well as a club.
A slow smile spread across Peter's face, and Wendy instantly decided a distraction was necessary.
"I don't think you'd like the dance as much as the football game, Peter." Immediately, his attention switched to her. Suspiciously, he asked:
"Why? I thought I wouldn't like the football game, either, and you were right."
"No one usually dies at football games," Wendy replied as Ruby silently returned and delivered a bottle of ketchup to the table. Quickly, the girl grabbed it, undid the lid, then took Peter's dish towards her. Wendy hadn't played Mother to his Father, or Mother to the Lost Boys in ages, but old habits died hard. Besides, it was better for him to focus on her. Accordingly, she removed the bun, and spread ketchup on it before pushing it back to him:
"In either case, you wouldn't like this dance, Peter." Wendy nodded to him, and warily, he picked up the burger and took a bite. She recognized the flash of surprise and pleasure across his face- he liked it -but it was fleeting. He wouldn't acknowledge "normal" food as being good- or perhaps better than something imagined in Neverland.
"Why not?" Pan asked, putting the burger down to try a french-fry. He was distinctly less suspicious of his food now, and quickly finished one fry before eagerly starting on another.
"Because it's not a real dance. People here...they don't dance. They sort of," Wendy wasn't sure how to phrase it, "move against each other. It's not dancing. And besides...you'd have to dress up as someone else. It's for Halloween. You'd need a costume."
Pan looked at her, this time utterly perplexed, "Why would I want to be someone else when I can be me?"
"That's exactly why you wouldn't like it," Wendy said decisively. She took a sip from her water, watching as Peter's confusion morphed into an angry frown.
"But you like being someone else, don't you, Bird?"
"What do you mean?" she asked, sensing the conversation was dangerous, but not entirely certain why. Peter had mood swings- he'd had them increasingly more often during her second visit in Neverland -and he could go from laughing to killing back to laughing in minutes. She doubted he would kill her- but she knew from experience he had no qualms at hurting others to hurt her.
"Felix and Dodger told me you go around calling yourself 'Gwen Carissima,'" Peter said the name with extra flourish. Although Wendy had liked her pseudonym, thinking it was an elegant homage to her original name without reminding her of her dark past, he made it sound stupid.
Carefully, Wendy considered her reply, "Everyone has different names in this world. That's what people know me as here." She bit into her grilled cheese again, trying to keep him in sight without directly making eye contact. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he had forgotten about his burger. Head on his hands, he stared at her intently.
"You were born into this world as Wendy Darling," Pan pointed out.
"You were born into this world as Peter Ponsoby," Wendy noted, "yet you changed your name." The name came easily from her lips. Although Peter had only hinted at his past to her before- even in a hundred years he'd let only a few clues slip of his former identity -she'd never actually confronted him about it. Not after the day they'd made their agreement on Skull Rock. He clearly didn't like to remember his past, and she knew him well enough not to force him to remember a time before he had been the immortal, unstoppable, extraordinary being known as Peter Pan.
"Because I didn't want my family name."
At that comment, Wendy's eyes widened. He never talked about his origins- not in depth to her. She'd been able to piece together bits of it to form a theory- he was the son of a wealthy earl who famously went missing from Eton, never to return; he'd built Neverland from the pure strength of his imagination; he took Lost Boys who were lonely and unloved; at least two of whom he'd known from school. But he never mentioned it, and he never mentioned why.
"What?" Wendy asked, feeling ridiculous.
"You heard me, Darling," Peter answered, his tone growing cruel, "I didn't want my family name. But you- you never stopped wanting your family. Over a hundred years without them and still you wanted them. Why would you not want their name?" He cocked his head at her, his tone angry, yet mixed with a bit of condemnation.
Wendy's jaw dropped. How could he say such horrible things? Did he mean to imply that by changing her name she was forgetting her family? That she wanted to do that? That she didn't want to remember her parents? Or even John and Michael- God, John and Michael! She hadn't spoken to them in ages. She told herself it was to protect them from Pan, and maybe to some degree it was, but was that all of it?
How could Peter say she didn't want them?
Worse, could he actually be right?
"I do want my family," she stammered, "I miss them, I love them-" her chest ached at the words.
Peter shrugged, "Bird, who are you trying to convince? Me, or you? All I'm going to say is your brothers were always John and Michael Darling. They never changed who they were, who they are. You were the one who wanted to be someone else. What must that have felt like, I wonder, to have a sister under their roof who didn't even want to be their sister?"
"Stop, Peter," Wendy said, voice trembling, "Now you're just being cruel-"
"I'm being honest," Peter declared, "You like being someone else. I can't see why. From what I've heard of Gwen Carissima from the newer Lost Boys, she's nice enough, but shallow. Obsessed with shopping. Silly things. Inconsequential things. Oh, and that she thinks of herself as some kind of goddess, going around and saying hi to all the outcasts without doing any actual thing to help them-"
"Peter-"
"Wendy Darling, meanwhile, loves so much she'll give up her future, and her freedom, for someone she barely knows. She'll give up her soul to save others. She'll even try to save her enemies from death," Pan stood up, tossing some money (where had he even gotten it? Felix?) on the table, "I like Wendy Darling much better. I don't know why you wouldn't want to be her."
Then he nodded to the pile of crisp bills, "That should cover your dinner."
And he walked out the door.
Later that night, Wendy sat on the couch in the living room she shared with Tinkerbell. The two girls sat dejected on the couch, but for different reasons, though both involved Peter Pan. Tinkerbell was casually drinking something, swigging directly from the bottle- to Wendy, it was almost reminiscent of the first time she met Hook. The fairy, perhaps persuaded by the alcohol, was actually sharing why she was upset with Wendy (they had locked the doors and windows tight so Felix couldn't overhear them):
"And Pan said that Regina took Felix's heart. So everything Felix said to me- everything about going back to Neverland together...everything about what he wanted- that he wanted me...it was a lie. It was all a lie," Tink's voice cracked on the last word, "and Regina said it. I tried to help her, and she just manipulated me. I feel like she betrayed me. Again." She grabbed a pillow, hugging it close to herself. It was strange for Wendy to see the fairy so vulnerable.
"I don't think she was trying to hurt you," Wendy said aloud, "I think she's just trying to protect Henry." She didn't know the Evil Queen well, but it seemed like everything Regina'd ever done in Storybrooke had been to save her son. According to Bae, she'd turned over a new leaf, and while Regina occasionally had forays into darkness, she never stayed there. In fact, Henry considered her to be a hero, and Regina wanted to live up to that standard. She was making the effort, too. The queen probably hadn't aimed to upset Tink- just see what she knew.
"I get it," Tink responded, "I do, but I can't help how I feel. And you know what the worst part is, Wendy?" she took another drink from the bottle, "For a second there, I really wanted it to be true. I really wanted Felix to...want me," she brushed away a few stray tears from her eyes, "I knew better, of course. And in a way, I'm glad Pan told me. It was just-"
"Bad?" Wendy supplied. It seemed like the only appropriate description for such a conversation.
"Very."
"If it makes you feel any better, he ruined my day too," Wendy admitted. She crossed her arms, wishing she had a pillow of her own to hug- or perhaps throw across the room.
Tink snorted, "That's not new, Wendy. What did Pan do this time?"
"Well, he crashed my dinner. He wasn't bad at first-" Wendy began.
The fairy groaned, "He never is. But it gets bad quickly."
"Pan asked why I was happy, and asked if it had to do with the dance. I said yes," Wendy dared not reveal what Henry had told her, even to Tinkerbell, "and told him he wouldn't like this dance because you had to be someone else."
"I'm sure that went over well," Tink replied sarcastically. She shifted, crossing her legs and slouching down so they rested on the coffee table.
"No, it didn't," Wendy sighed, "then he asked me why I wouldn't be Wendy Darling. Why I pretended to be Gwen Carissima, and why I liked it. Then he more or less told me I was a terrible person for denying my family."
Tinkerbell, paused, eyes widened, "Let me see if I understand this correctly. Peter Pan gave you a speech on morality."
"Yes."
There was a long silence, and then Tink passed Wendy her bottle, "Here. You need this more than me if a serial killer is telling you that you're a bad person."
Wendy grimaced, "I don't want it, Tinkerbell. Thank you. I just-" she sighed again, "Do you think he's right?"
At that, Tink pressed the bottle more firmly into Wendy's hand, "No. I don't. I think it was silly of you to pretend you aren't Wendy Darling, but I don't think you did it because you didn't want your family. You did it because you didn't want him."
Wendy sucked in a breath, but Tink cut her off:
"Don't even go there, Wendy. Don't lie. You loved him, the first time you came to Neverland-"
"I was fourteen years old," Wendy retorted, "I didn't know anything about love-" that's what her mother had said to comfort her, when Wendy had told her mother how sad she was in the three months between her sojourns to the island. Her mother- being her mother -had noticed her daughter's malaise, and Wendy had claimed she was heartbroken by Bae's seeming abandonment of her (and she was heartbroken about that, but not in the way she said). Mrs. Darling had embraced her daughter and murmured that it would be all right, that the pain would pass quickly because she was only fourteen and so young and knew nothing about love.
"Oh, stop," Tink insisted, "If you want you can say that, but you had feelings for him, if nothing else."
"Does it matter?" Wendy nearly hissed. She'd wanted to help Tink, to just talk to her after their respective wretched days, but she didn't want to hear this. However, she forced herself to calm down- Tink was drunk, that's all. Drunk people said stupid things all the time, and she couldn't blame Tink for the alcohol's influence.
"Yes, it does," the fairy asserted, "because it had to be hard to come back to Neverland and see what he had become. You might have been fourteen the first time, but you spent enough years on the island that you're not a little girl. Your feelings were still there, and he manipulated that, and he did for over a hundred years. It's no wonder you wanted to forget him," Tink rolled her eyes, "but the point is that he's wrong, and that's why you changed your name, and you shouldn't beat yourself up about it."
"Is that your attempt at comfort?"
Tink shrugged, "I'm sure I'd be better at this sober. But I guess. Look, you've built a life without him, and in a way, I think he hates that."
"He doesn't care-"
"I've known Peter Pan even longer than you," Tink answered, "and he is capable of caring, even as twisted as he is now."
"What do you mean?" Wendy asked.
Tink took another sip, then said, "I first met Peter when he was three years old. He was the most extraordinary child. He believed in fairies, and sought us out. Searched his house. Caused all sorts of problems," she snorted, "and one day, he found me in his cupboard."
When the door to the cupboard opened, the fairy concealed inside gasped and scrambled back, a great clanging of pans announcing her movement. The toddler who'd spotted her gave her a brilliant smile. His baby teeth were astonishingly white, and his hair was all golden curls. Green eyes were bright with excitement:
"Hello!" he exclaimed. He waved at her, his chubby fingers wiggling back and forth.
"Hello," she said back cautiously. She cast a glance behind him, but there didn't seem to be anyone else in the kitchen. The little boy was quite alone, and part of her wondered how he'd even gotten down here without being spotted.
"I've been looking for you forever," he gushed, "I knew you had to be here, I just knew it!" He clapped his hands together, completely giddy.
The fairy was dumbstruck. It wasn't unusual for children in this world, especially the very young ones, to believe in fairies. What was unusual was for them to see fairies. It was even more unusual for them to seek them out.
"What made you think that?" she asked, cocking her head to examine him more closely.
The toddler grinned, "I like to make music with the pans-" She nearly choked on his description. She heard his "music" daily. By "music," he meant smashing and banging them about in an attempt to mimic drums. It was hardly music.
"-and I broke 'em. Cook was very mad at me," he frowned, "and the next day, the pans were all fixed! So," the boy said seriously, "I knew it happened with magic. And fairies do magic. So," he leaned towards her, "My name is Peter. What's yours?"
"Green," the fairy said simply. She wasn't fond of it, but she wasn't called anything else.
"Green?" Peter asked, brow furrowing, "That's not a name." He sat back on his heels, resting his head in his hands.
"It's my name," the fairy stated, "I'm a common fairy. Common fairies don't get pretty names. We're all named after colors."
"There are different types of fairies?" Peter's eyes lit up at the thought.
"Yes," Green found herself explaining, though she didn't know why, "There's royalty- King Oberon and Queen Titania -and nobles, and commoners. The nobles can be whatever they want...they can do nothing and everything," she said with envy, "All fairy godmothers are noble. Commoners are given the magic tasks no one else wants to do-"
"Like what?" Peter leaned even closer to the cabinet, practically sticking his head inside. Green approached him warily, nervous he'd whack his head on the top of the ceiling. She hoped by giving him a better view he would move his head back and be less likely to injure himself- and thus draw attention to her.
"Well, there are those who find lost things-"
"They seem like a good sort of fairy," the toddler noted.
"Most are, though some don't return what they find. Some are servants, and do cooking and cleaning-"
"What do you do?" Peter asked, curiosity filling his tone.
Green gestured around her, "I mend the pots and pans."
"Like a tinker? You're really good at it," he complimented her. While it was true, Green hated her job. Sighing, she revealed the truth to the little boy:
"It's not what I want to do."
"What do you want?" Peter inquired. He quite liked the fairy who lived in his cabinet and fixed the pots and pans. It was only because of her he was able to continue to play and make music. He didn't know quite how to do it, but he wanted to help her.
"I want to be a fairy godmother," Green said, "I want to help others, so, so badly. Really help them, not just fix their kitchenware," she kicked a nearby pan, then grinned at him, "even if the kitchenware is very nice." She winked, and he laughed. After a moment, he said excitedly:
"You should ask to be a fairy godmother! I bet you'd be really good at it too," he paused, then wrinkled his nose, "and you should ask for a real name. Green's a silly name. You're too pretty for a silly name."
Despite herself, the fairy blushed, "Thank you, Peter, but they won't listen. I'm a common fairy."
"I don't think you are," Peter replied, "You're my fairy, so you're special." He said this with utmost conviction, as if it were a truth no one could deny. The sky was blue, Green was Peter's fairy, and thus, she was special. Anyone who said otherwise was a fool.
"What?" the fairy inquired again.
"You live in my cupboard. You're my fairy," he said seriously. Green was amused by his confidence, and so she smiled:
"I suppose I am."
"Then I'll talk to the king and queen for you," the toddler decided. He nodded, pleased and determined.
"What?" Green asked yet again. She could barely seek an audience with the king and queen, never mind a human toddler doing so. In fact, she'd only seen them at a distance. She could hardly just stride up to them and demand they meet this strange- yet wonderful -child.
"Take me to them. I know where they are," Peter confessed, "I've seen them, when Mama takes me to Kensington Gardens." Green's jaw dropped, and he grinned at her.
"But- how can you-" she sputtered. She didn't even know how to respond at this point. Peter could see her, Peter could see other fairies, Peter knew the secret location of the fairy court- what else did he know?
"I'm special, and you're special, and we're going to talk to the king and queen. Now. Come on," he held out a hand to her, "We can fly there. I'm part bird," Peter said proudly. He puffed his chest out, convinced that he really was capable of such a feat.
"Peter," Green was gaping at him, unsure how to explain this truth to him, "You're human. I'm afraid you aren't a bird at all. You can't fly"
He cocked his head, "I'm special. I'm not like the other boys. I'll prove it. Come on." Then, without waiting for a response, he reached into the cupboard, and gently nudged her into his hands. Without further explanation, he walked confidently towards a side door in the deserted kitchen, opened it, and strode into the night.
"Peter, you can't just leave your home!" Green berated him. Frantically she turned to look back at the great house, certain that someone would see the little lord missing from his bed. She waited for the shouting, the lights to flicker on, for servants to stream out of the house, the worried cries of a mother. Yet none came.
Casting her gaze questioningly back up at Peter, the toddler merely shrugged, "No one notices when I'm gone, not at night. They all sleep when they can be doing more!"
"Like what?" Green queried, almost afraid to ask. If nothing else, Peter was right about one thing: he wasn't normal. She'd never heard of a human child like this, who believed in fairies, snuck out of his house at age three, and talked as if he were young and old all at once.
He paused in thought, then announced, "Saying funny things to the stars." He turned his head back and forth, and Green realized he was ascertaining their location. The little boy couldn't even read, but he remembered the way to Kensington Gardens. However, even if his parents didn't note his absence, surely someone on the London street would stop to ponder the oddity of a three year old walking about in the dead of the night?
"Peter," Green said, "I know you want to talk to the king and queen, but someone will stop you. A human will. It's not normal, for a child to walk alone at night. If you really want to go, I need to get big."
"What?" This time, it was Peter who was confused.
"Put me down," the fairy commanded, and surprised by the force in her tone, he complied. She hopped out of his palms onto the pavement, then nodded to herself. In the blink of an eye, so quickly no human would ever see, she grew in size to match that of a human. She wore a glamour, so her short fairy dress- green, of course, to match her name -appeared like a respectable servant woman's brown cloak and skirt. With that, she scooped up Peter in her arms and continued to walk towards Kensington Gardens, her heart in her throat.
What am I doing? she wondered, I could be arrested for kidnapping. Or worse. Why am I trusting this child?
As if he could hear her thoughts, Peter frowned, wiggling in her arms. Green struggled to keep her grip on him, but he jumped out of her arms the second they reached the luscious green lawn of the park. Then, grinning wickedly at her, he broke into a run, heading directly for the fountains of the Italian Garden. Green, even more shocked by this turn of events, immediately chased after him. She stumbled around in her human shoes- she wasn't used to wearing high heels; she was a servant, after all, and these were far too big for her -but she was determined to precede him before he simply ran into the middle of the ball she knew would be going on. The fairy court hid in lush green trees of the gardens during the day, but at night, they loved the fountains, and held great dances around them. No humans could see, naturally- the glamour prevented that -except Peter, apparently, upon whom glamours had no effect.
She knew instantly the moment he arrived, for there was a woman's annoyed drawl:
"Oh, a human. An unaccompanied child. However are we to get rid of him?"
Then she heard the immediate shrieks that followed as Peter answered her tartly:
"You won't get rid of me! Not 'til I talk to the king and queen!"
A great lump in her stomach, Green finally caught up to him. The shell-shocked fairy nobles- all wearing masks; they'd seemingly interrupted a masquerade -gazed from Peter to her, their eyes wide.
"Green! You got big!" a fairy dressed in a gown of pale blue, decorated with pink flowers, forced her way through the crowd, "And you brought a human child to our midst?" At the reproach in the fairy's tone, Green quickly returned to her normal size, shedding the glamour.
"I'm so sorry, Mab," she whispered, "He ran away from his house, and I was trying to bring him back-"
Mab blanched, "You dare to address me by my given name? Me? You're a peasant," she sneered, "and you have forgotten your place!" She removed her mask, wove her hand, and turned it into a white crystalline wand. She pointed it at Green, utterly incensed.
At that moment, Peter stood before her and demanded, "Who are you?" He bent towards Mab, staring at her intently. Suddenly, Green felt very nervous, though if anyone asked, she couldn't say why.
"I am Her Royal Highness, Princess Mab Gorm, of the House of Reul," Mab introduced herself, "sister to Her Majesty, Queen Titania Airgead, of the House of Reul."
"And who are you?" a regal voice inquired. The fairy nobles parted instantly, creating a walkway for Queen Titania- who wore no mask -to freely approach the little group. The queen walked forward, giving the appearance of utter serenity. She bore no resemblance to Mab whatsoever. Her hair was a brilliant silver, though not that of old age. Rather, she appeared to reflect the light of the moon itself. Her eyes were a stunning dark blue, the exact same shade of the evening sky. Her long gown was also silver, though darker than her hair, and patterned with diamond stars. A matching tiara was balanced on her gently curling tresses. It was very obvious why Oberon had chosen Titania over her sister, and Peter instantly decided he preferred Titania as well:
"Your Majesty, my name is Peter Ponsoby. Pleased to meet you." He bowed as best he could, considering he was so much bigger than the tiny, delicate queen. Smiling, she recognized the gesture and waved a hand, indicating he could stand- or at least sit up.
"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Peter," Titania returned. After a moment, she asked, "How is it that you can see us?" She clasped her hands expectantly.
The boy shrugged, "I wished it."
"You wished it?"
"I did."
"Have you ever met a genie, Peter?" the fairy queen inquired, "That is how most wishes are granted."
"No," Peter replied, "I live with my parents. It's very boring. The house is only them and servants. I have no one to play with-" abruptly, he cut himself off, as if remembering that this wasn't why he had run to the fairy court tonight, "but I bet it would be interesting to meet a genie."
"Most interesting," Titania murmured, though Green thought the queen was referring more to Peter himself than the act of meeting a genie. The queen walked around Peter in a full circle, apparently examining him.
"So you wished to see us, and so you could?"
"The second after I wished it, I saw my first fairy," Peter said, flushing with pride. He pointed to Green, who was still standing stunned behind him.
"But I thought you only saw me tonight," Green whispered. She was frightened, as every head of the fairy court spun around to stare at her. Noblewomen glared at her with unabashed hatred, and the noblemen were muttering angrily to themselves.
"I saw you very quickly," Peter amended, "you flew around the corner and hid in a pot. I started to look for you after that, but I never met you 'til tonight. Anyway, after that, I've seen plenty of fairies. My mama takes me here all the time. I saw tons of you." He pointed to various members of the crowd, who all took a step back, blushing furiously.
"But I never met any of you," the toddler added, this time a bit sadly, "I wanted to, but now I do. You've got to help Green, Your Majesty."
Titania raised her eyebrows, "I do? And why is that, pray tell?" Green looked at the ground, wishing she could melt into it. She didn't think the queen disliked her- only Mab did, judging by the looks she was throwing her way -but they were very clearly of different stations.
"Because Green wants to be a fairy godmother-"
Scandalized gasps ran through the crowd, and desperately, Green wanted more to disappear than she ever thought she could.
"-and she said that only nobles could be fairy godmothers."
The queen frowned, but it was the princess who retorted, "That's true. Only highborn women understand the strict requirements and duties of being a fairy godmother. Green," Mab practically hissed out the name, "is a commoner."
Peter answered, "So make her a noble. The king does it all the time."
"I'm afraid we aren't human, Peter," Titania explained, "We don't do things the human way." Although the words were firm, her eyes glittered with curiosity. She was clearly intrigued by what the boy would do. Would he give up, as he should?
"Oh, I know," the toddler stated, "but our king only does it for people he likes, not people who should be nobles. Green should be a noble. She's so nice, and she'd be a great fairy godmother!" he grew more and more enthusiastic as he talked, "I mean, yes, she's a good tinker too, our pans are always perfect, but she can do so much more! She wants to do more! She wants to help people. And isn't that what nobles should be doing? Helping people? That's why nobles are supposed to be noble. To protect the commoners loyal to them." Peter sat back on his heels, his words equally as strong as the queen's.
The fairies, meanwhile, were silent. They finally had understood what Green had: that Peter was most definitely not normal, whether as a three year old, or as a human.
Just then, a nobleman took his mask off, "The boy's right. A fine answer, Peter." At the words, the entire court- with the exception of the queen -sunk into deep curtsies and bows. A man dressed in resplendent cloth of gold came to Titania's side. He too wore a crown, and he could only be King Oberon.
"Thank you, Your Majesty...?" Peter trailed off. He obviously knew that he was addressing a royal, but didn't remember the name Green had mentioned earlier.
"King Oberon," the king supplied, greeting the boy with a great smile. He kissed his wife on the cheek, whispering something in her ear. Titania whispered back, and they came to an agreement.
"My wife and I find you to be very interesting, Peter Ponsoby," Oberon said, "You are like no child we have ever met, human or fairy."
"Thank you," Peter answered, grinning so wide Green swore she could see every single one of his bright white teeth. He gave Green a triumphant glance, as if to say, "I told you so."
"Because of that, we have decided to grant your request. Green, you are now a lady."
Green's jaw dropped- as it had multiple times that night. The king laughed, and the queen smiled. Mab looked ready to murder her.
"Oh!" Peter exclaimed, "and since she's a lady, she needs a new name. Green told me only nobles and royalty get names."
"Quite right," Oberon said approvingly. He gazed at Peter in utter fascination, as if trying to unravel the mystery of him.
"What name will you choose for yourself?" Titania asked.
"I don't know, Majesty," Green admitted, "This is very sudden. I never expected this."
"I have an idea," Peter interjected. Green looked at him, at the strange boy who had brought her everything she'd ever wanted, and waited to see what he would say. Nervously- the only time she'd ever seen him nervous- he presented his suggestion:
"Mama is trying to teach me French. She told me "belle" means beautiful, and you are pretty. You also used to fix the pots and pans. Not anymore. But maybe you want to remember where you came from? So...Tinkerbelle?"
Green said nothing for a long moment, still trying to fathom what was happening.
Anxiously, the toddler asked, "Do you like it?" He twisted his little chubby fists together.
"I love it," Green smiled, "though I don't speak French. So maybe we can do without the e on the end. T-i-n-k-e-r-b-e-l-l," she spelled out, "Tinkerbell. It's wonderful. I would like that as my name, Your Majesties."
"Very well," King Oberon proclaimed as she knelt before him, "By the power of the sun, and the moon, and the stars, and all the magic given to us as king and queen of the fey," he gestured to Titania, "we pronounce you Lady Tinkerbell, and you shall have your wish to be a fairy godmother." The royal couple waved their hands, and Tinkerbell's plain green dress was replaced by a gown of bright, shimmering green. She spun around, delighted with the change of outfit, and cried out:
"Thank you, Your Majesties! Thank you!"
"Tinkerbell, this is great!" Peter grinned, "I told you I could do it. You can be a fairy godmother!" shyly, he asked, "and now that you can...would you be mine?"
"Certainly not," Mab sniffed, "I train the fairy godmothers, and Tinkerbell," she made the name like dirt, "hasn't even waved a wand. It will be a long time before she's a fairy godmother. A very long time."
"Oh," Peter said, a bit disappointed.
"I will be your fairy godmother, Peter."
At that, Mab was the one whose jaw dropped. Queen Titania walked towards the toddler, her pronouncement hanging in the air between them:
"If you will have me." Murmurs filled the gardens. The queen, of course, had unlimited powers. She could supersede her sister and become a fairy godmother without being trained. However, she'd never shown an interest in it before.
"Thank you," Peter said. He blinked, slightly puzzled by Titania's decision, but he accepted it nonetheless. He felt, in some way, that what was happening was momentous, even if he didn't understand the implications.
"You're welcome," Titania answered, "You must go now, Peter. Morning approaches, and I know that you will be missed come sunrise. Certainly, we shall miss you too. Return to us when you can."
"I will," the boy replied, thrilled to have met the fairies.
"Your Majesties," Tinkerbell said, "If it pleases you, may I escort Peter back to his mansion? A small child would look amiss on the streets."
"As you say, Lady Tinkerbell," Oberon acknowledged her assertion, "but return to us soon, for you will begin training."
Tinkerbell promised to do so, and with that, she increased her size, restored the glamour, and picked Peter up once more.
As they made their way back to the Ponsoby mansion, Peter smiled at her, "Tinkerbell, I know you can't be my fairy godmother, but you can still be my fairy right?"
Without even a second's hesitation, Tinkerbell said, "Yes, Peter. I'll be your fairy. And I'll come to visit you when I can." He threw his arms around her shoulders, and she couldn't hide her happiness from him. She owed him everything, and so it was that she risked tiptoeing up the stairs all the way to his nursery and returned him to his crib. She felt wrong just leaving him to wander about the great house by himself.
"You'd better!" Peter reproached her playfully. However, it seemed he'd expended all his energy for the night, for he let out a great yawn.
"I will," Tinkerbell promised, "and I'll always look out for you." She drew the covers over him, but he was already fast asleep, a smile on his face.
Wendy didn't even know what to think of Tink's story. She sat on the couch, completely flabbergasted.
"Peter is the reason you became a fairy godmother? And he picked your name?"
"Yes."
"But he exiled you."
"Yes."
"So that shows he cares?"
"When Blue ripped my wings off," Tink's voice became bitter, "Peter and Felix murdered all the fairies on the island," at Wendy's horrified face, Tink said dryly, "Oh, Peter probably told you the court moved. No. Blue said she didn't believe in me, and it ripped my wings off. I told Felix. They promptly killed every single fairy in Neverland- except me," she shrugged, taking another sip of whiskey, "They did it for me. It was revenge. Peter cared about me, and trust me, he is more than capable of caring about you."
Trying to avoid that direction of conversation, Wendy asked, "What's Reul mean?"
Tink turned to face her, "What?"
"You said Titania and Mab were from the House of Reul. What's it mean? It sounds like another language."
"It is. It means 'Star.' Their family claimed they were born of the stars themselves, so they called themselves the House of Stars. Titania's dead, but you know Mab, actually," Tinkerbell noted, "Mab Ghorm Reul. 'Ghorm Reul' means 'Blue Star.'"
"The Blue Fairy?"
"Yup," Tink confirmed, "She was a bitch then, and she's still a bitch. Powerful bitch, though. She's technically Queen Mab now. Ugh. I definitely do not want to think about that. I'm going to bed," she handed a flustered Wendy the bottle.
"Wait- Tink- you need to tell me what happened. With Peter. How did he go from a toddler who went up to the fairy king and queen and demanded you be a fairy godmother to boy who murdered the same fairies!?"
"You already know some of that, Wendy," Tink said wearily, "Besides, a lot of it he should tell you. We all have our secrets, including him. Not saying he's right, but it's true. All I'll tell you is that he made Neverland. That's it," she paused, raising a hand to her head and rubbing her temples, "Ugh. I am going to have a killer headache tomorrow. Wake me up and make me go to school anyway. I don't want any more surprise chats in the living room."
With that, she strode up the stairs to her room, ignoring Wendy's protests.
The next day, Ferdinand approached Wendy at her locker.
"Hey, Gwen," the prince said, smiling at her. It took Wendy a few seconds to respond- she'd spent most of last night thinking over Peter's words and Tink's story. Now, she felt so ashamed when she heard the name. Luckily, those closest to her had stopped calling her Gwen. Even Grace and Gretel had stopped since Pan's reappearance. Although those two didn't call her Wendy, either. They simply addressed her. Wendy didn't blame them. It had to be confusing. Besides, anyone could see the way Pan looked at her- they wouldn't want to draw his attention to themselves, though, of course, Wendy knew he noticed them, as he noticed everyone around her.
"Hi, Ferdinand," she greeted him, forcing a smile onto her face. He was handsome- in a different way than Peter -and he genuinely seemed interested in her. Unfortunately, she couldn't focus on him- even if Pan wasn't directly watching this exchange, Felix was. Anything they said would be reported back to Peter. She subtly shot Tinkerbell a glance, hoping the fairy could distract Felix, but the Lost Boy kept his eyes trained on Wendy and the prince.
"So," Ferdinand whispered conspiratorially, "You haven't been answering my texts." He crossde his arms, leaning against the locker next to hers.
"I've been...busy," Wendy supplied. She left the rest of the sentence unsaid: Trying to keep a serial killer away from me and from hurting anyone else. Oh, and also trying to keep my grades up. And recover from the deaths of my friends- caused by said serial killer. Who likes to sneak into my bedroom at night. And give me speeches on my own morals.
"Well," Ferdinand said, oblivious to her inner turmoil, "Do you still want to go? On Friday?"
"Go?" Wendy repeated. Go where? We can't go anywhere where Peter won't find us. What's the point? I can't even get dinner without him.
"Wendy," a rather pissed off Tinkerbell interjected (she was severely regretting the fact she'd told Wendy to wake her up this morning, but nevertheless, she wasn't going to let Wendy do something equally as stupid), "You have plans on Friday. Remember? We made plans." She tugged on Wendy's arm, her grip tight, and that's what it came to Wendy: the Halloween dance. Ferdinand still wanted to go to the dance with her, after everything. Part of her was flattered- he must have really liked Gwen. Another part of her wondered if he had a death wish- because Gwen didn't exist; Wendy Darling did.
Still, even if Peter had Storybrooke locked in his grip, everyone else in the town seemed to be ignoring his presence, at least for a little. Maybe she could too. Especially since Peter couldn't kill anyone. And especially after the horrible things he'd said to her- a person Tink had insisted he cared about. She'd tossed and turned all night, crying and infuriated and shamed all at once. Sleep hadn't been an option, and it was all Pan's fault. Why didn't he understand it wasn't that she wanted to forget her family? It was, as Tink said, that she wanted to forget him.
"I hope those plans are to go to the dance with me," Ferdinand smiled at Wendy. Feeling brave, and angry, and hurt- completely unlike herself, except for the hurt part -Wendy smiled back, then brazenly winked at him:
"I'll text you."
If Peter really hated that she'd made a new life without him, she might as well take advantage of it. It was the smallest of ways she could pay him back for what he'd done to her.; what he's said to her. Ferdinand waved and went off to class, pleased with the promise- and having utterly no idea of her motive. Quickly, Wendy fired off a message rapid-fire on her phone, shifting slightly so Felix couldn't see over her shoulder:
They do. I just don't want Felix to overhear it.
Immediately, Ferdinand texted her back:
Yeah, I've noticed him following you everywhere. It's like he's your big brother or something lol.
Something like that, Wendy replied.
If her big brother enjoyed clubbing people's heads in.
Wendy knocked on the side of the Jolly Roger. Smee, the first mate, looked over the edge and saw her treading water. Eyes widened, he shouted:
"Captain! Captain!"
A few seconds later, Hook, rubbing his eyes, growled:
"What is it, Smee? I was busy."
"I know, Captain," Smee said apologetically, "but there's a girl overboard." He didn't know how else to put it.
"A girl?" Hook said, confused. Then, instantly, he was awake, barking out commands as he ran to the bow:
"Pull her up then! There are bloody mermaids everywhere, and God knows what Pan will do to us if they eat Wendy Darling." He knew it had to be her. After all, there were no girls on Neverland but Wendy. The last time he'd put Wendy in danger- merely by holding her hostage -there had been a mass murder on his ship. He didn't want to think about what would happen if the girl actually died.
Immediately, a rope was thrown over, and Wendy clung to it as she was hoisted aboard. Her white nightgown was soaked, and a few pirates' eyes flocked to her before Hook removed his black leather jacket and placed it around her shoulders.
"Come in, love." He directed her to a smaller cabin next to his. She looked at him, confused- why weren't they going into his cabin? Sensing her confusion, Hook shrugged:
"It's a bit...messy in there right now. I'm guessing you're here for something serious, and I'd rather discuss it somewhere serious. Smee, luckily for us, keeps his cabin bloody immaculate." He gestured around with his hook, and true to his word, the cabin- albeit almost entirely bare of furniture except for a bed, small table, chair, and chest beneath the bed -was incredibly clean.
Wendy raised an eyebrow. Hook's cabin, the last time she'd seen it, had been very neat. Why couldn't they go in? Still, if the pirate didn't want to share, she wouldn't press him. She was the one asking for favors, after all.
They both stood in Smee's cabin, even though Hook pulled out the lone chair for her to sit. While Wendy appreciated the chivalry, she wanted him to see her as an equal. He needed to, if he was going to agree to her proposal.
"I need your help," she began, but Hook immediately cut her off:
"Lass, if you're going to ask me to take you off Neverland, I can't. Not if I want to keep my crew and I breathing, which I would like to."
Wendy shook her head, "I know. I'm not asking for that. It's just- you've seen the changes in Neverland, haven't you? Animals are starving, and they're dying off fast because the Lost Boys are hunting them so quickly. There's no fish left for the mermaids, and I think they're starting to eat the Lost Boys," she shuddered, "The Indians, too, have nothing to eat. Pan imagines things, but he can't imagine enough prey for everyone," she shrugged, "Yet you and your crew seem well-fed."
Hook riposted, "As do you, Miss Darling. The Lost Boys don't seem to be suffering much either, judging by how often they've been trying to attack my ship." He crossed his arms, and she couldn't deny it. Groups of Lost Boys went after the Jolly Roger every few days. She wasn't sure whether it was to amuse themselves, take out their anger on Hook, or both.
As such, Wendy looked away, "I can imagine some things for myself. When I try, I can imagine some for the Lost Boys, but I don't have the same powers Peter does-"
"Pan is having trouble imagining things?" Hook mused, "How interesting. Are his powers waning?" His blue eyes glittered. If Pan's powers were decreasing, then perhaps he could escape. Perhaps, finally, he could get his Crocodile. And his crew, incidentally, would all make it out alive.
"I don't think so," Wendy replied immediately, "I think the changes on the island surprised him, and he's still adjusting. The land itself still obeys his every whim," she shook her head, "but that's not the point. All of your crew seem well-fed. How is that?"
A clearly disappointed Hook answered, "After Pan slaughtered my first crew, he granted my ship power, for a limited time, to leave Neverland. I had twenty-four hours to find a new crew, which I did. At first, Pan was going to take away the magic that let my ship and I go free for a day, but then he realized he could use me for missions in other worlds. So I still have it. Twice a month I can go free- more than that if he sends me away."
Wendy deduced, "So when you're away, that's when you get your food." Hook nodded his assent, and she said:
"You have to get more. For the Indians and the mermaids-"
"And the Lost Boys?" Hook scoffed, "Sorry, love. I'm not going to feed my enemies."
"If you don't bring food for the island," Wendy stood straighter, "or at least more animals so they can breed, I'll tell Peter you tried to kill me." She stared directly into his eyes, deadly serious. She might not like Peter, especially after what he'd done to her, but she knew at least some of the extent of how he considered her...special. He didn't love her, she knew that, but he at least regarded her as one of his prized possessions. She was unique; a girl from his old world. Someone whom he never would have met, but now had at his side forever. A boy who thought himself different from all others liked the idea of having things that were different from all others, and Wendy knew that she was that to him- a thing different from all others.
"He knows I would never do something so stupid," Hook replied, "Not after what he did last time-" The pirate was clearly incredulous at the suggestion.
"Rufio told me he's gone mad," Wendy declared the fatal words, "I don't think he cares much for particulars regarding you. He hates you, and I guarantee he'll kill your crew again, and take your ship's power, and then where will you be?" the girl asked, "Starving and alone."
Hook paused, then said, "You drive a hard bargain, love. But just how am I going to have money for this? And how are you planning on explaining this to Pan?"
"The same way you've been getting money all along," Wendy replied, "Piracy. And I'm not going to explain it to him. As far as you and I are concerned, this is our secret, and if you get enough animals and food, you will never have to do it again- he'll have had time to adjust and he'll be able to imagine more. But until then, we have to survive somehow."
"Very true, Darling," Hook admitted. Then, strangely, he smiled at her, "You know, I think you would have made a bloody good pirate."
"What are you talking about?" Wendy demanded, "I would never-" Her cheeks flushed with indignation.
"You're willing to use people to get what you want," Hook said, "Just like the rest of us. But unlike the rest of us," he mused, "what you want is to help everyone else."
Before lunch, Wendy went into the bathroom to talk to Grace and Gretel. It was the only place she felt comfortable talking to them without being overheard- and she had to apologize to them. She didn't expect their friendship to revert back to what it was before, but she had to make them understand. Sort of. Tink had followed her, as she always did, but the fairy- who was completely miserable -declared she wasn't about to go to the bathroom. That left her waiting outside- with Felix.
Meanwhile, inside the bathroom, Wendy stood nervously before her friends.
"Guys, I'm so sorry. It's just- I'm afraid," she confessed, "I'm worried he'll hurt you. You don't understand what he does; how he operates..."
"We know he kills people," Grace said darkly.
Gretel interjected, "Why won't you let us help you? We get it, you've fought him before, and you had to do it by yourself. With no one except Tinkerbell for help. I understand why you'd turn to her first. You fought together for years-"
"Not exactly," Wendy demurred, but Gretel merely continued on:
"-and yeah, it completely sucks that you ignored us for her. So don't do it anymore."
"We understand why," Grace added, "You're trying to protect us, but we're not helpless. We can help you!" Her eyes were wide and sincere.
Wendy sighed. Against Peter, the two girls were helpless. They knew nothing about him, but he knew, she was certain, everything about them. They were only safe so long as they stayed out of the game-
-though what if he didn't know they were playing?
Heart pounding, Wendy said, "I need you to get a message to the mayor. Tell her I have to see her, alone, and not to tell anyone. And you two can't tell anyone either."
"Why not just call her?" Gretel asked, eyebrows furrowed. She fingered her own cell phone- tiny, bejeweled, and pink -as if considering making Wendy call that second.
"Felix is around me all the time," Wendy pointed out, "at my house, at school...and Pan is too. Pan will know if I say it. I just know he will," she bit her lip, "but if you do it...look, this is how you can help me. Don't try anything else. Don't do anything else. And I know it sounds crazy-" the girl found herself babbling, struggling to explain the intricacies of Neverland games to two girls who were decidedly not from Neverland- and, she prayed, never would be.
"Okay," Gretel said simply.
"What?" Wendy asked, still ensconced in worry over the possibility of Gretel and Grace in Neverland.
"Okay, we'll do it, and we'll help you," Grace noted, "but just do me one favor," she grinned, "I want my seat back. Have Tinkerbell sit on your other side."
Despite herself, Wendy couldn't help but smile.
Meanwhile, outside the bathroom, Felix- per usual -was silent with his arms crossed over his chest. Tinkerbell did her best to stay quiet herself. At first, she too leaned against the wall, but her head was pounding. Sighing, she slid to the floor, her jeans snagging slightly on a nail sticking out of the wall.
"Really?" she muttered. As she tugged the pale blue material off the nail, she realized Felix was staring at her.
"What?" the fairy demanded, "I don't have to play your strong-and-silent game today."
Felix raised an eyebrow, "'Strong and silent?'"
"Yes," Tink retorted, "Just whatever you're thinking. Out with it." God, her head hurt. She grabbed the elastic holding her hair in a messy bun and yanked it out of her hair, golden waves tumbling over the shoulders. Idly, she inspected a few strands. It was frizzy. Damn it. Why had Wendy let her out of the house like this?
"You don't look like yourself," Felix drawled. His eyes drifted over her, from the frayed gray T-shirt that exposed her shoulders to the sneakers on her feet.
"Me?" Tink almost snorted with laughter, "I don't look like myself? That would be a shock to you. Do you even own any other clothes?" She gestured to his customary brown sweatshirt.
At that comment, the Lost Boy said, a bit coldly, "You're not acting like yourself either."
"You mean I'm not afraid of Pan?" Tink ran a hand through her hair. She was completely unaware how Felix's gaze followed the track of her fingers.
"Believe me, I'm still afraid of him. I always am. But right now I have a killer headache and I'm paying more attention to that than him. Kind of refreshing, actually," Tinkerbell mused.
"You're drunk," Felix said flatly. This time his voice was filled with disapproval, and the fairy bristled with indignation:
"Oh, please. I'm not drunk. I'm hungover. But then again, you wouldn't know about that, would you? It's such an adult thing," she taunted him, a bit unsure where these words were coming from, or the venom in them. After all, she had ended the relationship with Felix. He hadn't done anything to her- he'd never even yelled at her for it. He'd been devastated, she knew- for she had listened in the Neverland forests as Pan comforted him, telling him how fickle girls were -though he'd quickly hidden his sorrow. As her thoughts drifted to Pan, she realized the source of her harsh words: Pan had ended Felix's and her relationship, not her. Pan had decided to take revenge in Storybrooke. Pan would bar her from ever being together with Felix, even if Felix had some delusion that he'd reconsider. The fairy knew that, inherently, and as she could hardly take out her anger on Pan, she was pushing it onto Felix instead.
She hated herself for it.
How strange, Tinkerbell thought, that the boy who gave me everything would be the same boy to take it all away from me.
As if summoned by her thoughts, Pan himself appeared, descending down the stairs towards the cafeteria, gaggle of Lost Boys- old and new -following him. He waved them ahead, and they obeyed, chattering as they went to their customary table. The older boys- Slightly, Nibs, Curly, and Gavin -warily watched their leader, but nonetheless obeyed. The younger ones didn't know the danger posed by a Peter who went off alone.
Still, he wasn't alone for long. He'd spotted Felix, and deduced Wendy's location. Pan looked confused by Tink's disheveled state, but Felix merely muttered a few short words when walked over to talk to his leader by the stairwell- where Tink couldn't overhear them. They whispered for several seconds, and Pan's gaze darkened.
"He'll pay," Peter snarled, this time audible enough for Tink to hear clearly. Somehow, she found it in herself to pity whoever had drawn Pan's ire this time. Then the two boys walked over to Tinkerbell.
Pan cocked his head, "You said she's hungover?" Despite the fact he was standing directly in front of the fairy, he was addressing Felix. The Lost Boy nodded.
"Take her home then," Peter said.
Felix blanched, surprised, "You don't need me here? I thought-"
"I don't plan on leaving Wendy's side for the rest of the day," Pan answered, "Besides, Tink is in no state to take care of herself."
"I can take care of myself fine, thanks," the fairy nearly snarled, but the two boys ignored her.
"Clearly, you can't," Peter rolled his eyes, "so Felix will. Report back to me later."
"Come on," Felix told Tinkerbell, lugging her to her feet. Despite her copious protests, he pulled her into his arms and carried her out of the school.
"Wendy, I know what you made Hook do," Peter grinned, "and I must say, it was a rather ingenious manipulation, one I wouldn't have expected you to do," he mused, "so you do care for the island." He seemed thrilled by the prospect, though he also sounded as if he knew he'd won.
Carefully, Wendy replied, "I care for the people on it. They need to survive-"
"And they have," Peter finished smoothly, "Thanks to your delay tactic, my powers are now restored. Neverland, though, is still fading. I cannot allow that to happen." He looked at Wendy, a fanatical light in his eyes, but she didn't answer him.
"I know of some people who I believe can provide the solution to this problem, but they don't live in Neverland, the Enchanted Forest, or the Land Without Magic."
Wendy looked at him quizzically, "Peter, what are you talking about?"
"There are many dimensions and many worlds. I have been to countless. In my travels, I have come across one world where all manner of logic and magic seems to be upside down. I plan to go and pay a visit to those I met," Peter paused, "Would you like to come?"
"What?" Wendy asked. Of all things she expected him to say, this was not it.
"You showed you care about Neverland. I do as well. You can come with me, and see what I am willing to do for it," Pan said. His words sounded like a sinister promise- if a sincere one. Wendy wasn't keen to travel with Peter, but if it meant leaving the island behind for even a little...she swallowed and nodded.
"Good," Pan smirked, "but first..." he put both hands on her shoulders and yanked hard. Wendy gasped as her shadow was pulled away from her. She stared at it, wide-eyed. Her shadow, which sported blue eyes (unlike Peter's Shadow, which had gold), likewise looked back at her in shock. The smoky black figure was undoubtedly hers, complete with bow in her hair and the faintest outline of a nightgown.
"It's a bit of a shock, the first time a shadow gets separated," Peter explained, "Don't worry, he'll stay with her," he gestured to his Shadow, "She'll be fine." Then he addressed Wendy's shadow directly:
"Stay with my Shadow, and no harm will come to you. Don't worry, you'll be reunited with Wendy soon."
Then Peter held out his hand to her and took her into the sky. They flew for a few minutes, straight up into the stars. Then, suddenly, abruptly, they turned left, and the stars started to grow farther and farther apart and the space between them was filled with blackness. There seemed to be no end to the vastness, and Wendy, for a dreadful instant, was terrified she'd guaranteed her death by allowing Peter to take her into this nothingness. Pan, for his part, was evidently enjoying himself. He was muttering under his breath, and to her astonishment, she realized he was counting.
"Twenty-four!" the boy said triumphantly, and as the sound of the number echoed around them, Wendy and Peter hurtled towards a star. Wendy screamed, wind coming from nowhere and tearing at her hair and her nightgown. Pan yelled, but his was a shout of exultation as they grew closer and closer to their destination, the lights of other stars winking around them. The stars all seemed to blur into one, and then there was a great flash. The girl struggled to breathe as she flipped over and over in some hazy clouds, but Peter grabbed her and drew her from the mist. He held her close as they flew downwards, and the girl tried desperately to get her bearings and slow her frantically racing heart.
When they landed, Wendy turned around in astonishment. Great purple clouds floated in the sky, and hedges twisted up them around on all sides. Before her was what looked like a great chessboard, the squares wider than her entire house in London.
"Where are we?" she asked, unable to hold the question in. After the journey she'd had, she at least had to know what world she'd suffered for; where they'd ended up.
"Wonderland," Peter replied. After a moment, he added, "Don't eat or drink anything, no matter who offers it to you." He grabbed her hand, tugging her along after him. He clearly knew her well enough to realize she would be looking everywhere but the road ahead. She was too fascinated by her surroundings, even though she was still trying to calm down.
"Where are we going?" Wendy asked, staring at a large statue of a chess piece. It was a bishop, and it looked down at her. His expression was stern, almost as if he was rebuking her for living with a boy while they were unmarried, him regularly sleeping in her bed with her only in her nightgown.
"To see the queens."
"The queens?" Wendy emphasized the plural, "There's more than one?" Peter was striding down the chessboard, and Wendy hurried after him.
"Of course," Peter explained, "Wonderland, unlike Neverland, has many rulers. There's constant infighting among them as to who truly rules Wonderland."
"Who does?"
"That's a matter of opinion. If you go to the south, then the Red King rules, but we aren't seeking out the Red King. We're looking for the Three Queens- the Queen of Diamonds, the Queen of Spades, and the Queen of Clubs."
Wendy's eyes widened, "Like playing cards, you mean?"
Peter smirked, "Not exactly, but if it helps you to remember their names that way, then do so. They are three sisters, who at the moment, lay claim to the north. The Queen of Diamonds has a dazzling array of the jewels from which she draws her name. She also wields magic with them. The Queen of Clubs is the only woman I have ever met who wields a weapon with a skill that almost rivals mine. She has no magic of her own. The Queen of Spades holds power over the vines and flowers of Wonderland. She is most creative with them. The Queen of Clubs and the Queen of Spades work together to rid themselves of rivals for the throne- on kills them, and the other buries them. It is their greatest desire to see the Red King dead."
"Why are we seeking them out if they want to kill people?"
"Because they have respect for me as a ruler of another world. We get along, the queens and I," he didn't offer any more explanation. Instead, he reached into his pockets, producing a bag of diamonds, "Here, take these. When we visit, they will expect gifts."
They walked for some time, until at last they came before a tall castle. Its spires were thin, but surrounded by all manner of vines and flowers. At the approach, the flowers turned towards them, and Wendy bit back a gasp when she saw they had faces.
"Please let Their Majesties know Peter Pan requests an audience," Peter told the flowers. There was a soft whispering as the flowers communicated the message to each other, and the vines trembled as the message spread upwards and inside the castle. Then, the vines receded as the castle doors swung open to greet them.
There was a great array of stairs before them. At the top of the stairs stood a woman clothed in white and silver, her hair covered by a veil of crystal- no, Wendy, reminded herself, diamonds. For this woman could only be she.
"Greetings, Peter Pan," she smiled warmly at him, and Pan smiled equally as wide at her.
"Greetings, Your Majesty. It is good to see you."
"And you," the Queen of Diamonds' eyes flicked to Wendy, "and who is this? Have you taken a consort, Peter Pan?"
Wendy blushed, but Peter took the comment in stride, completely ignoring the queen's question, "May I introduce Wendy Moira Angela Darling?"
Uncertain of what else to do, Wendy curtsied and murmured, "It's a pleasure to meet Your Majesty."
"Likewise," the Queen of Diamonds replied. She surveyed Wendy's outfit, and the girl could tell the queen was trying to take stock of her.
"As always, it is lovely to see you, Your Majesty," Peter interjected, "but may I ask where Their Majesties the Queen of Clubs and the Queen of Spades are? I had hoped to see them today as well."
The Queen of Diamonds rolled her eyes, sighing, "I'm afraid they're indisposed. They're taking care of another pretender. Some chit calling herself the Queen of Hearts. We'll be rid of her shortly, and then we can focus on the Red King. Come, though. I'm sure you have things you wish to discuss; we can do so in my throne room." She waved them up, and Peter clasped Wendy's hand in his as he slowly flew them up the stairs. The queen smiled again, then turned and swept away. Wendy forced herself to follow and not have her jaw drop at the strangeness of her surroundings.
Once they were inside, the Queen of Diamonds swept up a further set of stairs onto a dais where her throne- of course, carved of diamond -rested. There were a few swirling letters in there, which Wendy realized had to be her name: Alichantra. If she twisted her head just so, she could read the writing carefully etched into the throne: Her Majesty, Alichantra of Wonderland, Queen of Diamonds and Seer of the Realm. Heiress to the most royal and ancient Lewyssian Dynasty, and True Monarch of Wonderland. Wendy couldn't help but notice that"monarch" was in the singular. And Seer of the Realm? What on earth did that mean?
"You seem interested in my throne, Wendy Darling," the queen noted. She smiled lazily, but there wasn't any warmth in it.
"I've never seen anything so beautiful, Your Majesty," Wendy said carefully, "and I have never been to Wonderland before, so I am most eager to learn its history. What better way than through its true monarch?"
At this, the queen revealed a genuine smile, "Indeed. I do share the throne with my sisters," she gestured to the thrones on either side of hers. One, made of rough-hewn stone, had to belong to the Queen of Clubs. Etched on her throne were the words: Her Majesty, Calixta of Wonderland, Queen of Clubs and Protector of the Realm. Heiress to the most royal and ancient Lewyssian Dynasty. Unlike the Queen of Diamonds' throne, the title ended there- it seemed there wasn't enough room to finish the title. The other was made entirely of what looked like vines and was covered in flowers. It wouldn't have looked that out of place in the old Neverland, the Neverland that she had first visited. Her title read: Her Majesty, Élira of Wonderland, Queen of Spades and Keeper of the Realm. Heiress to the most royal and ancient Lewyssian Dynasty. Likewise, the Queen of Spades' throne did not have enough room to complete the title.
Or at least, Wendy supposed that was the story the Queen of Diamonds would tell them, if they asked.
"We are triplets, you see, and our parents were slain when we were twelve years old by the father of the usurper who calls himself the Red King. He claims that our parents were insane, but usurpers will say anything to take the throne."
"No one can doubt it belongs to you," Peter said smoothly. The queen smiled at him:
"Ah, Peter. No one can doubt you can be quite charming when you wish. But as wonderful as it is to see you, I know that you aren't here to chat. I don't see any boys with you, so you can't be wanting to take them from Wonderland."
"Your Majesty, you know how much I care for my realm. I would do anything for it. However, something is destroying it. It must be stopped. I could think of none other to plead for advice from than you. After all, the diamonds show you the truth."
The queen was silent for a while, and Peter took that as his cue to proffer his gift. He pulled a massive diamond out of his pouch, one so large it was nearly the size of Wendy's closed fist. Taking her cues from him, Wendy held her own sack of smaller diamonds forward. The queen smiled, accepted the gifts, and noted, "As always, you have exquisite taste, Peter. Now, what would you have me ask of the diamonds?"
"What I need to do to heal Neverland."
The Queen of Diamonds nodded, then undid her veil. She placed it in her lap, and gazed into the diamonds expectantly. Suddenly, they began to flash, and her eyes dilated and turned a bright violet. She murmured words to herself in a language Wendy didn't recognize. The queen gazed into the diamonds for a full minute before seemingly returning to normal, her eyes fading to a deep blue.
"Neverland can be restored, but it must be done through the Heart of the Truest Believer. That heart is a very special heart- it belongs to one with extraordinary imagination and limitless faith. He must come to Neverland, and you, Peter Pan, must get him to believe in you."
Peter shrugged, "Simple enough. Where can I find him?"
"He is not yet born. He will hail from the Land Without Magic, but you won't find him for centuries."
"How long?" Peter said through gritted teeth, "In the time of the Land Without Magic."
"I believe it is a hundred years there. But in Neverland-"
"That's too long," Peter muttered, "That's 36,500 years in Neverland. The island won't last."
Startled, Wendy gazed at him. She'd never heard him express doubt in Neverland before. He had always regarded the island as eternal- and now he was openly acknowledging that it was very, very mortal.
The Queen of Diamonds paused, "Would Neverland last a hundred years?"
"About a hundred fifty," Peter stated. Wendy wondered how he could estimate that. Could he discern that, simply from his intimate bond with the island?
"Then perhaps I can help you here as well," the queen mused, "I have a spell that will allow you to slow time in Neverland to match that of the Land Without Magic. A hundred years in Neverland will match a hundred years in the Land Without Magic. You will be able to wait for the arrival of the boy, but this magic comes with a price."
"I'll pay it," Peter said automatically.
The queen said, "Very well. In order to change time, we must alter time's existence somewhere else. You, Peter, must temporarily share your immortality. The magic controlling your eternal lifespan will help slow the passage of the years. I warn you, though, that this sharing cannot last forever. Once a hundred years have passed, you must get the boy with the Heart of the Truest Believer to believe in you with all his might. Then, you must take his heart and replace your own with it. If you do this, Neverland will be restored, your immortality will return, and all shall be well. But if you fail, you shall die, and the island will be lost."
Peter smirked at her, "Peter Pan never fails." He held out his hand, and the queen gave him a small diamond.
"When you return home, you must take the diamond, press it into your palm 'til you draw blood, then drop it into the great hourglass that controls the time of your island. Then you will wait. In the meantime, to aid your search for the boy, here is what the diamonds showed me of him." She waved her hand, and a piece of parchment appeared in it. The boy had a pale face, blue eyes, and floppy black hair. Wendy stared- he seemed so young.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Peter said, fingering the gem in his hand. He gazed at the parchment for a moment, then pocketed it. After, he looked up at the queen, "Let me know, Your Majesty, if you ever need aid in ruling your own realm."
The Queen of Diamonds smiled, this time her eyes glittering like the gems she took her name from, "I'll send for you when that day comes."
With those words, Wendy realized the truth: the Queen of Diamonds planned to kill the Red King, then kill her sisters. She wanted to be the sole, true, monarch of Wonderland. Not the Queen of Diamonds, but Alichantra, Queen of Wonderland.
And Peter had just promised he'd help her do it.
"We must protect our realms, and I am glad to help you do so, as you have so graciously helped me with mine."
With the promise made, Wendy emerged from the bathroom, Gretel and Grace at her sides. They'd been talking- it had felt good to laugh again, their friendship healing a bit -but the laughter died quickly when they'd spotted who was waiting for them.
"Hello, Wendy."
Author's Note:
Okay, this is really more of a part 1 of a chapter than a chapter itself. There's a second half to the chapter, but I'm still writing it and it was taking me a seriously long time to finish it with school. :/ I wanted to update, so I hope it's all-right that it's still a first half. Keep that in mind. :)
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and please let me know what you think! As always, thanks so much for reading and for your support!
~ladykikyo1792