Hello my lovely readers...I AM SOOOO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO POST THIS CHAPTER!! I spent a REALLY long time on it, researching on sword-making and writing bits and pieces of it here and there, and it just kept on getting longer. I actually considered dividing it into two chapters, but decided to keep it one. Hopefully it's long enough to make up for the amount of time it took me to write/edit it. I also spent a long time editing it because typos and bad grammar drive me crazy. Anyway, just so everyone knows, I'm sure that I got some facts wrong in here (you'll know what I mean when you read it) but I had to be creative. I mean, there isn't going to be electricity in Neverland, which means that there won't be a forge for making a sword. At least not a modern day forge. So I worked with whatever ideas crossed my mind, and I'm admitting that they are pretty far-fetched, but oh well. Had to do something. And also a special shout out to romance.randomness.and.regret and everyone else who has been encouraging me all along. I'm loving writing this and I can't thank you guys enough for reading my writing and pushing me to continue. :D Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys!!

Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan.

Chapter Seventeen: Ashwatthama

Chapter Seventeen: Ashwatthama

Some minutes later, we were continuing to crawl along beneath the jungle of the forest bed, and I still didn't know where we were headed. Nor had I any idea of how to make a blade. I didn't hear him wrong, did I? I wondered. He did say that we would make me my own blade, right? But how? I was assuming that we would need some sort of a supply of steel, but where would we get that? I giggled at the idea of stores in Neverland where one could just drive and buy some supplies.

"What's so funny?" Peter asked, looking back at me with a smile, obviously wanting in on the fun. Didn't he always?

"Nothing. Just imagining having stores in Neverland where you could buy steel and whatnot." Peter frowned at me. Had I said something wrong?

"Stores? Buy?" he asked with curiosity. "What are they?" I couldn't hold back another small giggle. Peter looked confused now. "What?" he asked at my soft laughter.

"It's just that…" I was about to comment on his lack of knowledge of those words, but I decided not to for fear of insulting him, which was the last thing that I wanted to do. "Ah…" I stuttered in mid-sentence. "Stores are places back where I live."

"You live here now, Rebecca," Peter said with finality and a smile. I blushed with pleasure. Take that, Braith!

"Well, where I came from, you drive…ah…go…" I corrected myself, knowing ahead of time that Peter wouldn't know what it meant to drive and I didn't feel like trying to explain it to him at the moment. I wanted my blade! "You go," I continued, "and you trade money…ah…I mean paper…f-for…things that you need." I was having trouble in my attempts to word the process in a way that Peter would understand.

"Paper? Why?" The boy had stopped completely now and was sitting cross-legged on the ground with one hand on his knee and the other scratching his head in thought. How was I supposed to explain money to him?

"Uh, well, it's green paper and everyone wants it because you need it to get stuff. Like…" I tried to think of an example that he would understand, and then almost smacked my forehead because of the obviousness of the answer. "Like steel, you know, that you would use to make blades?"

"Yeah," Peter replied, using a tone of voice that showed that he thought making blades from steel was very obvious.

"Well, if we were back where I li-…came from," I quickly corrected myself, "you would go to a store and give the person there enough green paper to get steel to make your blade." Peter gave me a look of utter perplexity, and I looked back in silence, having explained it as best I could to him, or at least for the time being. Maybe I would try to explain it in more detail later. Peter looked away from my eyes and focused on the ground, still in thought. "Uh…" I started to say, about to cautiously ask him if he understood, but he cut me off in his line of thought.

"Strange…very strange. I've never seen green paper before. Why would someone want green paper?"

"So that they could use it to buy other stuff. That is, trade it for other things that they need," I attempted to answer even though he still was staring at the ground.

"And then what do the next people do with it?" he asked me, looking back up and making eye contact again, the question bouncing around like a ball in his ginger eyes, waiting to be caught.

"Um, they use it to…get food for themselves," I said slowly. It was hard to keep up with his leaping thoughts when he didn't even understand what he was thinking about!

"But you can just go hunting or pick fruit off of the trees," Peter said, making the notion of buying food sound ridiculous.

"Well, we can't do that where I came from," I said simply.

"Why not?" Couldn't he just let it go?

"Because!" I said, becoming slightly exasperated with him. "Because," I said again a second later in a calmer tone, "that's just the way it is. Think of it like something that grown ups do. I mean, they are the ones that instate these silly rules," I added, humorously noticing the look of disgust that flashed across Peter's face at the mention of grown ups. That explanation ought to do it, I thought to myself, satisfied. I found that I was wrong, as Peter's eyes met mine once more with yet another look of bewilderment.

"Instate? What's instate mean?" he asked me. I nearly grabbed my head and shook it in frustration, but I quickly swallowed the urge and said, "Never mind." Before he could ask again, I added, "Grown ups are the ones that make up the rules where I used to live."

"So…grown ups make you give people green paper to trade for other stuff then?" Peter finally seemed to conclude.

"Sure," I said hastily, eager to move on while knowing that he wasn't even close to understanding the money system yet. I tried to understand his point of view. It was such an obvious thing to me, but of course for someone who had never had to use money…well, that was something that I admittedly could not grasp, so perhaps I was in the same boat as Peter was, only at the opposite end of the spectrum.

"But why green paper? The Lost Boys trade marbles and feathers and stuff, 'cause those things are fun. What's so fun about green paper?" Peter asked me, apparently still not satisfied with my answers. But how could I answer this. I shrugged because I couldn't thing of anything else to do.

"It's…just the way it is, Peter. I don't know why, it just is," I said, while his question actually began to bother me too. I mean, he was right in a way. Why did we throw green paper called 'money' back and forth and fight over it? It was just green paper. Why didn't we trade useful things instead, like food or books or electronics or something? Those things could be put to actual use, while money could only be traded. Wasn't that the way the Pilgrims and the Native Americans had done it first? I tried to remember my history lessons from elementary school. They had traded corn and…and…

"Well, that's just really strange then. Come on, we're still a bit of a distance away," Peter said, at last releasing the conversation to travel out and away to be shared by the other persons of the island. He pulled me from the ever-running wanderings of my mind just as I had started to scold myself for not remembering the history details. History was a passion of mine and I was so ashamed that I couldn't quite remember the finer details of the Thanksgiving stories that I had learned in the first grade. I didn't have much time to dwell on that though, because Peter had started to crawl ahead of me, still beneath the brush, and I hurried to keep up. My knees kept slamming into small pebbles and large roots sneaking out from trees along the way, and I was reminded of a time when I was seven years of age. I had been on a hike with my dog running in front of me, trailing me on her leash. I had been having fun running carelessly behind her, but that carelessness lead me to trip and fall, and then painfully injure my knee as the point of a rock sticking up struck right into the soft region at the bottom of my knee cap. The rest of the hike had been made in a painful limp, and that memory always reminded me to be careful when running in rocky woods or…now, for instance. I actually winced as my knees hit the forest floor again and again, but only because of smaller stones and the occasional larger rock; nothing like when I was seven. However, I did place my hand upon a leafy spot, only to find that the leaves concealed a hole. Not a deep hole, but enough to cause me to yelp in surprise as my hand and wrist vanished into the ground. Peter, a good several feet ahead of me, turned.

"Oh…you okay?" he asked, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, probably seeing me as being very clumsy with the forest.

"Yeah, fine," I said quickly, removing my hand from the hole and scurrying faster to catch up as Peter nodded and continued forward. "Peter, wait!" I called. He turned to look back again with a 'What is it now?' expression on his cute and by now dirt-streaked face when he suddenly froze, listened for a moment, and then looked at me with widened eyes. "Wha-," I started to ask, but was silenced by a signal of his fingers to his pursed lips to be quiet. I shut my mouth and then obeyed as Peter motioned for me to get down on my stomach. I was scared now, but I didn't have long to wonder what was going on because a sudden large and grimy boot crashed through the brush to my left and landed right in front of my face. I jumped, and had to muffle my mouth with my hand, turned brown from the dirt, as I gasped. Peter quickly looked around the foot, a pirate's foot, I guessed, possibly the same man from earlier, and motioned with a wave of his hand for me to stay calm and silent and still. I did, with the exception of staying calm, as I saw the pirate's left foot land in front of Peter, who didn't flinch a bit. The pirate stopped for a second, and I feared that he'd heard something. Then I heard him doing something or other above the greenery that hid Peter and me, and wondered what he was up to. It was then that I realized I wasn't breathing and drew in a soft wisp of air just as a drop of dark liquid landed upon the back of my right hand. Whether it was dark from the shade provided by the leafy canopy or from the liquid's content was not completely clear, but the raw burning stench that mixed with that wisp of air I had just inhaled was too much to bear and it was all I could do to clamp my left hand over my mouth and nose to stifle the chokes that threatened to burst forth. And all from that one tiny little drop of liquid. What was it?

"Bloody 'ell. Where's I suppose' ter get me rum now?" the man in front of me grumbled to himself and then to my relief he stalked off muttering to himself. I eyed Peter as he watched the man leave, and as soon as he signaled that I could move again, I gasped and sat up, looking at the now drying drop on my hand.

"Peter, what is that?" I asked in disgust.

"What's what?" he asked, crawling over to see, and then grimacing at the smell of it. "Ooo, that's rum that you've got on you. He must have been drinking it there. Nasty stuff," the boy informed me. It was as I had guessed.

"Nasty stuff indeed," I agreed, wiping it into the dirt. I smelled my hand again, only to find that the stench of the rum was too strong to be outdone just like that. I wrinkled my nose, wondering how long I'd have to deal with the back of my hand smelling of the foul stuff.

"It's gonna smell like that for a while," Peter commented, as if he had read my thoughts. I twisted my mouth with impatience, and Peter let go a soft chuckle through a look of pity on his face. I guessed that he had had to deal with this in the past, probably on more than one occasion due to his famously frequent interaction with the pirates. Before he could speak, I took the initiative.

"Peter, it's awesome down under these leaves, but my knees are getting sore. Can't we walk or fly or something? Where are we going anyway?" I asked, massaging my knees and trying to brush off the dirt that was now most likely permanently ingrained into my pajama pants. Peter surprised me by tugging on my arm and pulling me to my feet; he was laughing again.

"Sure, come on. I just thought you liked it under there..."

"Oh, but I did!" I rushed to say, not wanting to offend him, but he waved a hand with a grin.

"Rebecca, it's okay. We'll fly," he said, taking my hands and ascending from the leaves of the jungle. Concentrating on getting and then keeping my body airborne, and thinking that I was going to need another sprinkling of pixie dust soon, it hardly registered that Peter was still speaking, though to me or to himself I couldn't be sure. I just know that I snapped to attention when I heard him say, "…and the lava might be flowing today…"

"LAVA!" I screeched, stopping short, having been caught completely off guard by the word. Peter looked back at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course. How else would I get enough heat to beat steel into a blade?" he asked me, as if it was the most obvious answer of all in question to making a sword. I had been wondering that myself. While I had a very limited knowledge of making blades, I knew that you were supposed to have a forge and anvil. Where we would get the anvil, I did not know, but good grief, there wouldn't be a forge in Neverland! Though the idea of using lava for heat scared me, I mulled it over carefully as opposed to jumping to fast conclusions and calling it absolutely crazy. And I was soon stumped for any other way of heating up steel to the point of shaping it here. Peter was right. It would have to be lava. Volcanoes. Now there was something I hadn't known about Neverland. Looking back up at the hovering boy, I said, "So, I take it that there's a volcano in Neverland then?" Peter smirked and nodded at me, again showing that he thought it all so obvious.

"It's called Ashwatthama. The Indians named it. Means fiery tempered…something like that," Peter told me. So, that's where we were headed. A volcano with a name that I would never remember. And I couldn't even guess how Peter remembered it, with his notorious way of forgetting things. He pulled me on and soon we had cleared the tops of the trees, with me still trying to get settled with being up in the air again. I searched the mountains of the island, studying them more closely than I ever had before, now that I finally had the chance to do so. There were actually several of them, thin and all dangerously steep and sloping down to the sea. A few were capped with snow and clouds, like white misty halos surrounding the tips. They were a truly breathtaking sight, as is all of Neverland, and I was just smiling at their awesome beauty as I scanned them when my eyes passed and then came right back to one mountain that had a glowing red line traveling down its side.

"Peter, is that…?" I asked, noticing that we were headed towards it.

"Yep, that's Ashwatthama right there," he replied, pointing to the enormous structure leaking liquid fire.

"That's so cool," I whispered to myself, my heart beating quickly in exhilaration as we approached it. Unconsciously I let go of Peter's hand and dove faster towards Ashwatthama, eager to get closer to this newfound wonder. I had once seen volcanoes on vacation in Hawaii, and I had even had the fortune of witnessing flowing lava before, but certainly never like this, with a bird's eye view, and no rules restricting me from getting too close.

"Rebecca! No! Wait!" I heard Peter yell from some distance behind me. I laughed to myself with pride, somehow having gotten the idea that I was flying faster than he could. How wrong I was! I glanced behind me to make fun of him as he caught up with me, only to find that he wasn't there. Confused, I turned back to the volcano and my shoulders rammed into a pair of hands, and then a chest. "Whoa, slow down!" Peter exclaimed, gripping my arms as I began to descend as a result of the surprise from smashing into him. I shook my head to get my mind back together and then I was floating again and looking confusedly at Peter, who actually had a look of panic on his face. "Are you crazy?!" he said, not releasing my arms.

"Wha…what do you mean?" I asked him, completely thrown off and scared now. Why did he look so alarmed?

"I mean," Peter started, "what were you thinking flying so fast like that towards it?" he said, cocking his head in indication of the volcano. Now I was really confused.

"Um, because I want to get closer to it," I said with a tone of obviousness. "It's not every day that I get to see a real close up of an active volcano, Peter." I was actually slightly annoyed and trying to twist out of his grip, but he held me firmly in front of him. "Peter, let go! Wha…?" I protested, but he cut me off.

"Rebecca, you can't just go flying right up to it," he said incredulously.

"Why not?" I asked, still attempting resistance to his hold.

"Because it could kill you, of course!" Peter said loudly, and finally he had my full attention.

"Kill you?" I asked, and suddenly reality returned and smacked me across the face.

"YES! Kill you! Didn't you know how dangerous volcanoes are? You could die from the heat and fumes!" He looked into my eyes, perhaps making sure that I understood him and finally let go of my arms once he was confident that I did. I felt extremely stupid right then. Of course volcanoes were extremely dangerous. Anyone with common sense would know that. So why had I so carelessly begun to fly towards it without a single thought to safety? Maybe it was the decreasing oxygen levels again.

"Flying must be affecting my thinking," I said to myself as Peter muttered, "Girls have so little sense!"

"Hey!" I cried in complaint, pushing his shoulder. Peter just shook his head, rolling his eyes.

"There's a spot where it's not so dangerous where we make swords. That's where I was taking you, not directly to the volcano. Come on." Still shaking his head about my lack of sense, the boy took my hand again and pulled me down towards the trees. Now we sped up and I held my right hand over my face as we broke through the treetops, sheltering it from scratching branches. But Peter knew what he was doing in this fast descent and he guided me with his hand, keeping my body close to his and twisting me at interesting angles and shapes through the narrow spaces within the great jungle. I was turned upside down with him, my left hand enfolded in his right hand and resting gently against his chest, pulling me close enough so that I didn't get hit with any greenery. I loved this feeling of swirling through the forestry, almost right against Peter so that I felt safety and exhilaration at the same time, and I just looked up at the circling ground that looked down on us, smiling at the breeze of freedom that encroached our bodies. And just as I started to get nervous because the forest floor was getting too close for comfort, Peter leveled us out so that we were flying parallel to the bottom of the jungle. One second he was at my side, and then he swept beneath me, facing me and still holding my hand so that I wouldn't crash. He smiled up at me and took my other hand, and I watched him in pleasure as he looked up and slipped with me left and right between entangled branches and vines and blinding leaves. I had no idea how he saw where he was going, for there were only little glimpses of light through the countless leaves, but I trusted him and looked up, watching everything zip past me, inches from hitting me but never making contact.

On a whim, I decided to tuck my head into my chest and squeeze my eyes shut, just for more excitement. I heard Peter laugh as I did this, and then the wind current changed and I felt myself twisted in a different way. I opened my eyes. Now I was the one beneath Peter, which scared me for a moment, and I tucked my head in with my eyes clamped shut again. Seconds later, I opened my eyes just long enough to glance up at Peter and observe how his beautiful red hair grazed back against the edges of his green cap that matched the colors of the jungle. He was looking ahead and when he noticed me staring up at him, he looked down at my nervous face, raised his eyebrows, and flew faster yet! I screamed, but I couldn't help spreading my mouth in a toothy smile and looking way up and behind me into the green abyss. Did this jungle never end? I didn't even care. This was awesome! And then Peter had us spinning so that I went over and under and over and under him at the same time as zipping through this narrow maze of nature. I started screaming and laughing, holding the boy's hands tightly.

And then all at once we broke through the edge of the island where the forest finally stopped, and Peter rolled me beneath him again and extended his arms, pushing me out and down. I gave him a confused look, and gazed down to find the sea flowing under my legs. I let my feet drop into the water and suddenly I was creating a nice foaming wake with Peter flying above me, pulling me through the air as my feet dragged against the water. Again, I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, taking in the feeling of the wind sweeping through my hair and clothing, and laughed. It was one of the greatest things I have ever experienced. Once I opened my eyes, tears immediately started streaming down my cheeks from the wind, making my vision blurry, but I still spotted the steam in the not so far away distance. I turned myself so that my side was facing the ocean and I was watching the steam right side up. It seemed to be literally erupting from the bottom of a mountain…the volcano, I realized.

"There it is," Peter happily confirmed. "Where the lava hits the ocean. It's a lot safer there because it's a lot cooler and the fumes aren't so bad when the lava mixes with the ocean," he explained. That's where we make our swords."

There will be actual sword-making in the next chapter!! I can't say how long it will be until I update again because I need to do some more research on sword-making, but I'll try for sooner rather than later!! Please keep reviewing (no flames)!! THANK YOU!!