Disclaimer: I do not own any o the people in this fanfic. I only own Wendy whose name was inspored by JM Barrie.
A/N: Hey there. I just want to start o by saying that I am terribly sorry for my previous outburst. I was out of line. Again, I apologize. I had no right to say what I did. I completely agree to everyone being entitled to their own opinion so please forgive me. I can't apologize enough.
I would also like to sincerely thank H.M. Chandler. Thank you so much for everything. You have converted me.
Chapter One: Inspiring Distraction
It was opening night.
Large crowds elegantly walked to the theater to witness what the critics have been talking about for a few weeks now: JM Barrie's latest play.
As ladies adorned in the most graceful silk clothing found their seats and fellow gentlemen discussed the following week's cricket match, our beloved playwright stood behind the red exit curtains. Anxious. Observant. Patient. Silently panic-stricken. He stood there, his sturdy mahogany cane in one hand as his other discreetly parted the curtain to quench his aching anxiousness.
He was not confident with this play at all. It was dull and morose, needing a few sharp edges of passion and conflagration here and there. He silently blamed himself for writing under poor conditions such as lack of sleep, constant tea overdoses and last minute trips to his sanctuary: Neverland. It also didn't help that his dog, Porthos, constantly robbed him of the warm blanket every evening leaving him to twitch in the cold. No. No one under those circumstances could write a decent play. No one.
"Father?" A voice had intruded his unspoken critiques.
It was his daughter, all dolled up with her newly tailored midnight blue gown.
"Yes darling?" He asked, masking his uneasiness.
"Mother and I are already seated. She asked to tell you that your play has begun." She let out a sigh and rolled her eyes.
"Please tell your mother that I will be here for the duration of the play." James replied as he continuously struck his cane against the creaking wooden floor.
She remained still for a few moments before once again climbing the steps.
"Of course, father."
Silently, James gazed at this graceful creature before him. God knows that only eight years ago she was still running around the house making a mess. And now, here she was, sixteen years of age and one of the most lovely and adored women in England.
"Wendy," He called, smiling.
She looked back at him, her fair complexion glowed bright as a faint pink came to her cheeks.
"Thank you."
As she walked away, he noticed a pair of loose, black pants peek under her elegant gown. Smiling, he knew that his Wendy had her escape clothes on once again.
The following morning was, compared to the night before, a relief. James had the sole intention of going to the park to hopefully find an inspiring distraction to dull last night's thought of failure.
"Mary, I was wondering if you'd like to join me in the park. It's a beautiful morning." He remarked as he knocked softly on his wife's door.
"Will you be working?" Mary replied almost inaudibly.
"Yes. I suppose so." James flipped through the pages of his leather-bound notebook.
"I shall leave you to your work then." Her voice hung in the air.
The playwright lingered for a moment before descending the stairs. He didn't think Wendy was up yet so he decided not to disturb her.
He gathered his things from their housekeeper, Emma before asking for Porthos. It had been included in his daily routines to take Porthos to the park for some fresh air every morning so he was confused as to why Emma had only handed him the newspaper and an umbrella.
"Where is Porthos on this fine morning?" James asked as he took the newspaper.
"Your daughter, Wendy, took him to the park a few minutes ago. She requested me to tell you that she will be awaiting your company, Mr. Barrie." The housekeeper kept her head low.
"Why, of course. Wendy." James smiled as he walked to the door.
It truly was a beautiful day. The sky was the shade of a comforting blue and there were nearly no clouds in the sky. When James reached the park, he strolled around before he finally found his beloved daughter playing with Porthos.
"Go on. Get it, boy!" She yelled as she threw the ball by one of the majestic oak trees that lined the park.
Porthos immediately ran to retrieve the ball and to bring it back to his master.
"I didn't know you got up so early." James chimed in as he placed his right hand on Wendy's shoulder.
"Good morning, father. I believe we are just about ready for breakfast." Wendy smiled as she patted the dog on the head before unfolding a mat and placing it on the lush, green grass.
"Breakfast?" Her father replied, clearly not grasping the fact that his daughter made him breakfast.
"Yes father, breakfast. I made some before leaving the house and I do hope you'll share it with me." Wendy sat down and smiled. She was wearing her gray Norfolk jacket matched with black knickerbockers and black sturdy boots.
"I see you've again shown ignorance in dressing." James remarked. He knew his daughter wasn't at all lady-like but wearing such clothes might get people talking.
"But father, if I wore my cerulean dress it would merely get ruined with all my running about. These clothes are the most convenient to wear. Besides, I do dress up if the occasion calls for it. For example, last night's play. I wore my newly tailored midnight blue gown. You saw it, didn't you?" Wendy persuaded as she opened the basket to take out some biscuits and sandwiches.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. I also happened to have seen your black trousers peeking underneath them." James smirked.
"You did?" Wendy giggled.
"Might you know why?" James inquired, taking a bite of his sandwich.
"Well, after the play I took the gown off and left." She confessed, eyeing the golden brown biscuit she held in her hand.
"So that's why your mother and I didn't find you afterwards. Where exactly did you go?" James replied.
"Nowhere of grave importance. Just walking around. The city is much better at night, don't you agree father?"
"If you say so, darling."
The conversation continued for some time until Porthos started barking. Wendy stood up to see what was wrong and James followed silently after her.
"What's wrong, boy?" Wendy asked as he scratched the dog behind the ears.
Before Porthos was a small child with wheat-colored hair and off-white trousers.
"I'm terribly sorry. I was commanded by the evil Prince George to retrieve the ball he threw and I didn't realize that this belonged to your dog. I'm sorry if I bothered you." His tone was soft and slow.
"Your crime is forgiven," James suddenly joined in, "What did you say your name was?"
"Michael." The little boy with wheat-colored hair replied.
"Ah, I see. And why exactly were you commanded by the evil Prince George, as you said?" Wendy asked, instantly deciding to join in this imaginative play.
"He says I am to be—"
"I'm sorry sir, but is my slave bothering you?" An older boy came towards them.
"Ah, prince George, I gather." James said.
"What right have you to enslave this unfortunate wretch?" Wendy added.
George smiled, "He's my youngest brother."
"I see." James turned to Michael, "Sorry lad, but that reason alone is more than enough for one to be commanded a slave."
"That's all right." Michael replied as he pet Porthos.
"What's taking you so long, George?" Another boy came running.
"It seems Michael has caused some trouble." George explained.
"This is my brother, Jack, next in line to the throne." George explained.
"I'm sorry, are my boys bothering you?" A beautiful blonde-haired lady approached.
"We're not disturbing him, mum." Michael announced, holding onto her long, white dress.
"And you must be the beloved queen of the kingdom, I believe." James started, "JM Barrie, a pleasure to meet you. And this is my daughter, Wendy."
"The JM Barrie? It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Sylvia Llewelyn Davies."
"Do you know him, mother?" George asked.
"Yes George, quite a lot of people know Mr. Barrie. He's a famous playwright." Sylvia explained.
"And what do you write, Mr. Barrie?" Jack asked.
"Well, currently, I make a living out of entertaining princes and their courts. Do you have any other siblings, prince George?" James asked.
"Yes. Peter. But he doesn't like to have fun as much." The eldest Davies replied.
"Well then, if you can get him to come and join us then I would be more than happy to perform for you with the help of my trained bear, Porthos." James said.
"In exchange for the freedom of this slave, of course." Wendy added as she pointed to Michael.
"All right then." George agreed.
And so, they all sat on the mat that Wendy laid on the grass to watch the performance. It took quite some time for Porthos to warm up to the idea of becoming a bear, but after some encouragement from Wendy and the boys, he got up and danced with James.
"This is stupid, it's just a dog." Peter remarked silently.
"Just a dog?" Wendy asked since she was sitting beside Peter.
"How can he say that it's a bear when it's clearly just a dog?" Peter continued.
Porthos stumbled but managed to continue with the dance.
"Well Peter, I you think long enough and hard enough that it is a bear, then you'll see a bear dancing right there with my father. But if you continue on insisting that it's just a dog then you'll never see the amazing bear that is Porthos." Wendy said.
Peter stared at her.
"And let me tell you, it's quite fascinating to see a bear dancing." She looked back at him and smiled.
The dance ended with James and Porthos both falling to the ground followed by a round of applause from the boys, Sylvia and Wendy.
"We're here everyday and the bear is always more than happy to perform." James noted as he stood.
"Of course, thank you for the wonderful performance, Mr. Barrie. Perhaps we shall see you tomorrow." Sylvia replied as she stood up and gathered her things.
"Yes, of course." James replied as Wendy approached him.
"Wasn't this a lovely morning, father?" Wendy asked as she looked at the Davies family walking away.
"Yes, yes it was." James agreed.
It was a particularly good morning for James because you see, he found an inspiring distraction.