The Elder was almost never needed in Berk, which didn't bother her in the slightest. The only time she was desperately needed was when a boy needed the permission to become a man (the slaying of a dragon had been the official way of doing so, but now they only had to stomach a bit of rotten shark or train a dragon; unsurprisingly, they usually chose the dragon instead).
She was also called upon in times of direst need and she'd had a tense feeling that she would be needed very soon. She was bottling dried herbs when the twins broke open her door; the door flew unceremoniously into the hearth at the middle of the little hut and the twins toppled over one another to get to The Elder. She raised a grey eyebrow and pinched her lips together as the twins stumbled over their words.
"Jack-"
"Th-this black sand-"
The Elder's eyes widened and she nodded hurriedly, grabbing a few bottles of herbs and leaves and pushing a wooden mortar and pestle to the center of her work table. There was a flap of wings outside the hole in her hut and a group of young Vikings rushed in, carrying a young man with them. They placed him on a roughly sewn quilt and all shot into panicky explanations as to how he'd gotten injured.
The Elder only heard the same repeated snippets about black sand, black Nightmares and a white-haired boy named Jack. Of course, The Elder recognized the boy at first sight; she'd seen him etched along the constellations, although he was amiss a hooked crook and seemed to be dressed more modern (which Jack would have scoffed at, had he been conscious).
The first thing she noted besides his frosted hair was the gash across his pale cheek. Shadow curled away from the rip of skin like smoke in a hearth; even with The Elder's experience, she didn't have a clue what it was nor did she want to. She crushed several herbs and leaves by digging the meat of her palm against the pestle in a quick repetitive fashion until the leaves were nothing more than ground-up mush.
She walked to the young man and scraped some of the green mush from the wooden bowl to his cheek, covering the wound. After a minutes' observation, she turned to the others and said in a croakyvoice, "Lǫgr."
Astrid rushed to a bucket The Elder had placed out earlier that morning. It was full of water, as it was only early afternoon. Astrid handed it off to The Elder. The rest of the Vikings watched earnestly as The Elder did the unexpected.
She dumped the bucket upside down and the water hit Jack full in the face.
Jack awoke, sputtering. His eyes flew open and he felt a jab of pain in his cheek. He glanced around the room, noting Hiccup's cheeks flush in relief. He turned to face a short elderly woman who smiled slightly when she faced Jack; her eyes lit with recognition as she whispered, "Jokul."
The only one to hear the wonder in the word other than Jack was Astrid. Her crystalline eyes widened as she took in Jack's appearance. Was it possible? Astrid's eyes trailed down to the quilt, which she'd expected to be wet; instead, it sparkled with the curl of newborn ferns and glistened with a sheen of ice. Astrid sucked in a breath of cool air and fluttered her eyelashes, remembering times of childhood where a young boy would fling snowballs to Astrid and strike jovial laughter she'd forgotten she had the ability to hear, let alone utter.
Jack lifted a hand, allowing his fingers to graze the cooling paste against his pained cheek. He pulled his fingertips away and winced slightly before continuing his observation of The Elder's hut. She was beaming at him and Astrid seemed to be giving him the same awestruck look. Jack didn't know what to do with all of the new attention; he'd never had this many believers back in Burgess nor the rest of the modern world. It was nice to be acknowledged.
Hiccup had to refrain from crushing Jack in a hug and apologizing for letting him get hurt. Somehow, Hiccup had to have majorly angered the gods for them to harm Jack the way they had; they were punishing Jack for something Hiccup must have done ... But, what had he done, exactly?
Jack cleared his throat, sheepishly smiling as he stood from the bed.
Astrid noted the blossoming of water once Jack had left the quilt; it was soaked, probably through the straw-mattress. Jack smiled to The Elder; her eyes brightened even more, if that was possible. Jack glanced over to Hiccup before Jack thanked The Elder who nodded appreciatively.
Jack turned awkwardly to the rest of the Vikings; his eyes meeting Hiccup's. Hiccup nodded and thanked The Elder and the group (amiss the twins, as they were finally getting an earful of her door's demise) filed out of the door to find Toothless nervously dancing on his feet. Toothless perked slightly at seeing Jack up but stiffened nonetheless at his close approximity with Hiccup.
"Can any of you maybe fill me in?" Jack asked, moistening his thumb with his tongue as he wiped the green paste from his cheek.
Fishlegs and Snot began to retell Jack's entire fight against the Nightmare and his weird actions with the spire but Jack heard none of it. He was much too focused on Hiccup's lips and flushed cheeks as Hiccup said softly, "You were amazing."
...
Peter pulled himself up out of his hideout, dusting his palms of dirt. He took wide strides until his leather shoes padded against rough rock. He was overlooking the island, gazing at the hints of fire along of the horizon, his hands grappling to his hips. Peter watched the sky for a moment before swiftly glancing behind him; Peter was met with a patch of light in place of his shadow. He glowered through his shaggy fringe of redbrown, crossing his arms huffing at the pleasant sight before him.
Tinkerbell peeked from behind a leaf as Peter uncrossed his arms and kicked a plant in frustration. "I don't get it, Tink!" Peter cried indignantly. "I sewed my shadow on myself! My shadow was connected yesterday!"
Tinkerbell let out a tinkling sigh as she shook her head; Peter's shadow had been gone months. His sense of time had grown weary and his faulty memory didn't help matters; not that Tink could pinpoint how long it'd been since the last time they'd gone in search of Peter's troublesome shadow. She mumbled under her breath, which sounded like bells muffled by cloth.
Peter knelt near Tinkerbell until they were eye level. "Sorry, Tink," Peter arched an eyebrow. "What was that?"
She rolled her eyes and crossed her inch-long arms before retorting, "Ass."
Peter grinned and nabbed Tink in a fist, thankful for her sarcastic response. She shrieked like tin wind chimes, Peter's curled fingers around her waist. He grinned and placed her on his shoulder; she took a seat but turned her back from him to which he chuckled. "Wanna go for a swim, Tink?"
Tinkerbell's eyes widened as Peter leapt from the cliff side; she almost flew from his shoulder but Peter's hat blocked her inital path. She quickly sprinkled the two in golden dust before they could connect with the unforgiving surface of the lagoon; the mermaids were already reaching for Peter's pointed shoes and calling for him.
Peter smiled and took a seat on his rock before his brow furrowed; the mermaids watched him earnestly. "What's on your mind, Peter?" One of them asked, her hand going up to pet his cheek. He swiftly jerked up before their skin could connect and she slipped back to the water, pouting. Tink smirked at the mermaid from inside Peter's hat which he shoved back on his head, unaware of the bright glow pulsing in panic at the tip of his green feathered cap.
"I don't know," Peter said, biting his lip as he tried to remember. The mermaids' eyes latched onto the subtle movement of his teeth tugging at a flake of dehydrated skin. "Tink, what was I supposed to remember?"
Tink gave an indignant squeal from inside his cap and Peter hurriedly ripped it away from his hair. He smiled sheepishly as he plucked her from the wooly confines; she frantically kicked at the air before Peter's face, his fingers pinching her wings uncomfortably. "Your damn shadow!" She cried; the mermaids rolled their eyes at the lack of attention to themselves and her squeaky language that only Peter could understand (talk about annoying).
Peter nodded brightly, dropping Tink immediately. "Oh, yes!" Peter cried enthusiastically, causing the mermaids to jerk to attention. "It seems I've lost my shadow. It also seems that I've lost it before." Tink plopped into the lagoon with a plop!
"Oh, Peter," A mermaid called. "Please do not bring another girl to Neverland."
The mermaids all chorused in agreement; Peter glanced at them all questionably, innocence and curiosity painting his eyes a remarkable shade of caramel. "Another?"
Tink clutched a strand of long blonde hair, shooting Peter a glare which he obviously didn't catch. "Oh, you know, Peter, you must," another mermaid giggled nervously; none of the mermaids wanted to mention the girl, for fear Peter would remember.
Tinkerbell was reluctant to utter the name and was surprised at the tinkling as it left her lips. She was the only one on the island who wanted to see Peter happy, at least, that was Tink's excuse to why she said, "Wendy. Peter, her name was Wendy."
"A Wendy? Isn't that a bird?" Peter asked, slipping into a cross-legged fashion, expecting a story of birds.
The mermaids stared at him in open-mouthed shock before all sharing a sly smile. "Oh, yes, Peter, you're thinking of a Wendybird," One mermaid called.
"Very nasty birds," Another quipped.
"You had better kill them on sight, Peter, you're a good shot, aren't you?"
Peter grinned, leaping to his feet. He positioned his arms as if he were armed with a slingshot; he began to retell a story of him fighting off a pack of savages with only a stack of pebbles and his trusty slingshot (which he'd only imagined owning); the mermaids gave dramatic "Oh, Peter!"'s and listened intently to his story.
Tink clutched two fistfuls of gold loosely, oblivious to Peter's outrageous retelling of a relatively friendly game of skipping rocks with a few young redskins; she was too focused on Peter's lack of knowledge of Wendy, the girl he'd been so intent on being the Boys' mother ... the girl he'd sworn he'd never forget.
...
Peter's shadow struggled against its nightmarish confines; it stuck its hands out of the slits of the dark birdcage, thin fingers reaching for things it couldn't see nor feel.
"What are we supposed to do with ... it?" Gothel asked, her nose turned away from the young shadow locked in the cage that had once been occupied with colourful tittering freaks.
"Ever heard of the saying 'Don't wake a sleeping giant?'" Pitch asked, peering into the cage; a hand swiped forward, barely a centimeter off from connecting with Pitch's nose.
"Depends on what giant we're speaking of," Hibernus shrugged.
Pitch rolled his eyes as Hibernus hurriedly continued, "Well, it does, I mean, they get really grumpy-"
"Hibernus," Pitch snapped; Hibernus slumped his shoulders in defeat. Pitch sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose (or tried to, at least). "You know what, the moment's gone."
Gothel rolled her eyes; the Nightmares shrieked in anticipation. The shadow in the cage anxiously glanced back at the ocean of fear. Hibernus tried to convince Pitch to explain his clever saying; Pitch sighed, ignoring Hibernus and decided to allow his Fearlings to begin the breakage of the young boy's shadow. "I only want it to send him a signal," Pitch began as the shadows lunged forward, slipping through the cage slits.
"A shadow being missing for months on end wasn't signal enough?" Gothel growled.
Pitch shook his head, smirking. "Oh no. It needs to be something drastic. Drastic enough to send them all a message."
You guys are all so fantastic I love you all so much
41 reviews, 25 followers, 17 favourites just wow
School starts Monday and I'm still in denial~
I loved writing Peter's part; Peter and Tink are a mix of the movie and book selves, by the way, as not to confuse you. Peter also can speak with Tinkerbell (I blame the heavy doses of pixie dust he's most likely consumed over the years; hey guys that sounds like a drug)
"hey whatcha got"
"seven grams of dust"
"what sort of dust man"
"pixie dust"
"are you shitting me"
"no man you're supposed to supply the faith and the trust and i supply the dust didn't you go to high school -scoffs- dumbass"
-tugs on shades- love you guys