"Unfortunately I do believe you're correct, sister." Wendy agreed, sitting up and wiping her eyes, "These boys are going to ruin us."
I put my face in my hands and leaned over on my lap, the sword on my hip thankfully on the side not facing Wendy. "I think they already have."
"Maybe not. I'm holding out hope that this won't be a permanent behavior. Of course, how could it?"
"But he said it would be. He said it was over."
The two of us spoke in harmony about completely different things. We continued on, finishing each other's comments, until both of us realized that we had no idea what the other was speaking about.
"What happened with Slightly?" Wendy asked, putting a gentle hand on my back.
I shook my head and sat up, slumping back on the couch, "He thinks I've betrayed him."
"That's terrible!" Wendy perked up, her brows knotting in concern, "Did you?"
"Of course not." I grumpily replied, "Not intentionally at least. I've just been so preoccupied with other things that I've... well, truthfully certain things have slipped my mind lately. When there are so many things going on you just have to decide which is most important to focus on, you know?"
Wendy thought about it for a moment. "So what ever else you've been preoccupied with is more important than Slightly? And he's mad at you because of this?"
I sighed, "No. I can't say that what I've been doing was more important than him. He's been nothing but a friend to me, and I suppose I have done something rather dreadful."
"What did you do?"
"I kept a secret from him. An important secret."
Wendy seemed confused again, "Fee, I'm not quite understanding the problem here. Every lady has a reason to keep her secrets. If we just told them willy-nilly to every person we passed we'd been no better than the men. Why is Slightly upset about this?"
"He's upset because he believes that what my secret is will hurt him." I fidgeted with explaining while attempting not to create myself a bigger mess, "I think that perhaps it was simply because I had been keeping the secret from him at all, not the secret itself, that he was offended. And I can't say that I blame him."
I felt awful about lying to Slightly. He stood by my side and comforted me when no one else would and there I went, forgetting all about him. I was no better than my siblings. They abandoned me just like I abandoned him. If only I had brought up the subject before the secret had gone on for so long. If I had introduced Arthur to Slightly before I snuck away so many times, maybe Slightly wouldn't have felt it as such a betrayal.
But I didn't. I let the secret prolong because I was scared of exactly this. Of Slightly hating
me because of my interactions with Arthur.
Honestly, all that's been on my mind of late has been Arthur. How can I help it? He's been the only one I've been with through extended periods of time, and Slightly has been back here. But that's not entirely his fault. Slightly hasn't known where I've been, so I can't really say that this is his doing. It's mine. I made this mess for myself, and I couldn't see a way out of it that involved Slightly forgiving me. I couldn't forgive me.
I felt Wendy eyeing me suspiciously as she put a hand under her chin, "What is this big secret that's gotten you into so much trouble, sister?"
I crossed one leg over the other and gave her a halfhearted shrug, "It would be best if this secret stayed a secret for as long as possible. Or at least until I figure out a way to explain it without entailing the same reaction Slightly had."
"I do hope it's something dreadfully rebellious." Wendy giggled.
I looked at her, dumbfound, "Wendy!"
"Oh, come now." She smiled, the tear stains on her cheeks out of place, "You're always so proper, Ophelia. A little rebellion wouldn't kill you."
"I'm proper because that is the way a young lady is supposed to behave."
"Oh, pish posh." She wrinkled her nose in a way that reminded me of Peter, "Being proper is boring. It's more fun when you make your own decisions without caring what others think."
"But imagine what Father would say."
"He would say something like this," She puffed out her chest and wagged a finger at me, deepening her voice, "Ophelia Anne Harper Darling, how many times have I told you to be proper? Straighten your back, smile wider, and comb that hair down! It looks as if you've been running wild through the trees again, and I can't have that type of young lady in my household."
Wendy and I burst into hysterics at her extremely accurate representation of our Father. She had gotten his nervous but stern tone, his pointed finger, and even his too-stiff posture. It was undeniably uproarious and the two of us rolled in it.
"That is what Father would say." I admitted, settling down again.
A lingering giggle wavered on Wendy's face, but it was quickly overshadowed by something darker. Something serious.
"I haven't thought about Father all this time. Or Mother, for that matter." She said, toying with the end of her dress.
I shook my head, looking into the fire, "Me either."
She closed her eyes and shook her head, ashamed, "I've done it again."
"Done what?"
"Forgotten." She replied, her blue eyes filled with remorse, "It happened last time. That's why it took us so long to come back. With everything going on here we just... forgot."
I processed her confession and nodded, thinking about Slightly, "I'm beginning to see how that's possible."
Wendy paused, her mind in an obvious turmoil. "Do you think they miss us?"
Her question surprised me. "Does who miss us?"
"Mother and Father." She answered, curiosity on her rosy cheeks, "And Nana."
I pictured our parents on that first night that my siblings had gone missing. I could clearly see the horror on Mother's face as she frantically ripped our nursery apart, searching for her children. Father was furious. He bellowed at our Aunt Millicent, who had been in charge of watching us, and then even accused me of doing something. They were beyond stunned.
"I know they do. When they awoke to discover you had gone missing, Mother and Father were a mess. It was quite a shock to us all." I admitted.
Wendy knotted her fingers in her dress, "But after that? Did they search for us?"
I opened my mouth to give her an answer, but I found my mind drawing a blank. The more I sat and thought about it, the more I remembered very little about our wait for them to return. The
memories felt strangely distant. I could not recall the details of those nights, nor the emotions of our parents. The only thing I could remember in detail was the first night, and then after that, barely anything.
I panicked when I realized that nearly all my memories except for those few months when my siblings returned were fuzzy. I closed my eyes and focused on anything. My fifteenth birthday passed nearly a year ago, but I couldn't picture any of it. I knew we had a celebration but I remembered nothing. Not the cake, not the people, not the gifts. But they surely happened? Why could I not remember?
I almost collapsed into a frenzy when I could not even state my own birthday. The month? The year? The day? Nothing. It was blank. Now that I thought of it, I didn't even know if I was fifteen or not.
All I could draw on were those weeks when my siblings returned. The loneliness, the confusion, the separation. They were the only memories I could picture in detail. I could remember the night I asked for my own bedroom, the conversation I had with Mother about how I still had time to be a child. I could remember the walks home from school by myself, watching my three siblings prance merrily home together. I could even remember meeting Arthur, including the color shirt he wore when I first saw him. But every single memory and feeling before then was nearly extinct.
"Wendy... I can't... I don't... nothing's there. When I try to think about Mother and Father, when I try to remember my own birthday... it's gone." I confessed, my hands trembling, "I can't remember anything."
"It's this place." Wendy explained, motioning around the room with her hand, "It's Neverland. It has an odd habit of making you forget about anything that doesn't involve what's going on immediately before you, or what effects you the most deep in your heart."
"It makes you forget?" I reiterated, "How?"
She gave a careless shrug, "It's the magic of Neverland. It's the same reason no one ages here. Or that fairies are real and that mermaids exist. This place is built off children's dreams. What they imagine, Neverland creates."
"And the reason nobody ever wants to go home..."
"Is because Neverland makes them forget that there was ever anything else." She nodded her chin up at the root covered ceiling, "In a place filled with everything a child ever wishes for, why would they want to go home?"
I clasped my hands together as I leaned over my knees, racking my brain for any memories I could muster, "That means that Neverland pretty much erases any memories of a time before a child arrives here? That anything non-Neverland related is wiped away? To ensure that they're... what? Happy?"
"Exactly." She nodded, "Happiness fuels the magic. That, and a little bit of Pixie Dust."
She seemed to think her remark was amusing, although I understood only the part about why happiness was necessary.
"And the part about only keeping memories that effect you?"
"Neverland may possess a powerful magic, sister, but it cannot change the essence of who a person is." She sat forward and painted a picture for me, "There are core events in every child's life that shape them into the human they are. Good memories, bad memories, and even memories deemed unimportant. These core experiences are what make up who you are. Neverland erases memories that aren't needed while living here, but it can't erase what makes a child who they are. It can't erase what makes you, you."
When she explained it, it made sense why I could only recall those certain memories. The ones about my siblings going missing, the ones about having fun together, and the ones about meeting Arthur. It was in those experiences that I became the person I was. And although Neverland had wiped away the memories it deemed unnecessary to who I was, it could not send these ones away. These memories were me.
"Although the thought of a magic island erasing my memories is a tad unnerving, it's quite incredible." I admitted, "It works its way into children's minds to ensure that they have nothing but good times while here. It's remarkable, actually."
Wendy sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back on the couch, "It might be remarkable, but it's also terrifying. Before you were here, on our first visit, I forgot nearly everything, Fee. The only reason we came back at all was because something sparked my memory of home. Of you. I tried to imagine your face, your voice, and all I could see was a blurry figure. It frightened me so badly that I insisted Peter take us home immediately. And worse still, the magical erasing properties followed us home. Even in your presence, in our home, I could recall very little about who you were and where I was. It's dreadful, and it's beautiful. Neverland is truly a mystery."
"So... all this time that the three of you were here, when I thought you had abandoned me and wanted to leave me behind.. it was all because of Neverland?" I shifted on the couch, my heartbeat increasing, "It's not that you didn't miss us, it was that you honestly couldn't remember?"
Wendy's eyes softened, her features contorting with guilt, "Of course it was. Why else would we have done it? You're our sister, Fee. You're my sister." She put her hand on my arm, "I love you."
At that second I felt the largest weight lift from my heart. I doubled over with relief and pulled Wendy into my arms, each of us hugging the other with great strength.
They hadn't left me behind on purpose. They hadn't abandoned me because they liked the option of being here together without me. It was Neverland's fault. The strange magic of the island had caused them to innocently forget about everything back home, including me. It even followed them home, taking a long time to wear off and thus explaining why they didn't incorporate me back into their games. It was because they were only just beginning to remember I was there.
And now I also understood why they hadn't included me in very many activities while here, and why I had done the same to Slightly. Neverland didn't deem the thought important enough to allow us to remember. It's goal was to keep each of us happy, every second possible, and in doing that, it made each of us selfish.
It kept Wendy's intentions centered around Peter. He made her happy, he made her have fun, and it was clear that she was in love with him. Neverland made her forget about me because it saw how content Peter made her.
It kept my brothers's intentions centered around the other Lost Boys. All they ever wanted to do was run wild and not have any rules, and with the Lost Boys, they got that. They could get dirty, eat what they wanted, and not have to worry about getting in trouble. Neverland realized that this was what kept them happy, so it forced their minds to focus on that.
Neverland kept my intentions centered around Arthur. He was... truthfully everything I had been searching for. Handsome, charming, kind, brave. He never failed to make me smile, and whenever I was around him, I felt unexplainably smitten. I had given up on love, telling myself that it only existed in fairytales, but Neverland was determined to prove me wrong. It forced me to focus on Arthur and showed me that love was real. It kept my attention on him, and not on Slightly.
It's obvious that being with each other provides all of us with some type of happiness, otherwise we wouldn't remember each other at all, but Neverland decided that other things were more important. It decided that we didn't need each other. And in trying to keep us all as happy as possible, it ultimately ruined all of our relationships with each other. Me and my siblings, my siblings and each other, and me and Slightly.
I hugged Wendy until I felt the tears stop falling from my eyes. We looked at each other and laughed, feeling that familiar bond of sisterhood. The emotions running through my head made me dizzy.
Relief at getting her back after all this time. The recognition that Arthur was the one thing on this island that filled me with enough happiness to occupy my mind with only him. The anger at Neverland for causing this problem in the first place.
It made me wonder; was I wrong in blaming all my hatred at Peter? Was he as victim to the magic of Neverland as the rest of us? Should I find it in me to relinquish my hatred, since none of this was really his fault? Or, did the magic not effect him, and did he steal my siblings away truly because he was sinister?
I cocked my head at Wendy, the question burning on my tongue, "Earlier, you said it was Peter that had you crying. Did something happen?"
"Oh," Wendy said, curling her arms around herself again and casting her eyes down, "Yes."
"What happened?"
She bit her lip and took a breath. I could see how much this effected her.
"He shouted at me."
"He what?" I repeated, flabbergasted.
She nodded, "He shouted. Just before you came down, actually. It was rather unlike him."
"Why in the world would he shout at you?"
"Oh, I don't think his anger was directed at me specifically," She was quick to say, "I just happened to be the only one here, and so he took it out on me."
"And what was he angry about?"
She pointed down the hallway, "One of the boys tried to use his tree and they widened the entrance way. He was angry because now he has to find a new one. He came downstairs looking for whoever did it and he happened to spot me, I presume."
Although I had no clue what she meant by all these words, I didn't understand how this angered Peter enough to shout at the girl he loves.
"Wendy, that's ridiculous. It's just a tree."
"Well, they are difficult to find. I understand why he was upset about it, no doubt I would be too." She defended.
I shook my head, "But you wouldn't yell at the first unsuspecting person about it. Does Peter do this often? Yell at you?"
"No." She assured me, "Never. Which is why it alarmed me so. But, Peter is just a boy, after all. Temper tantrums are no strangers to children."
"Peter is not a child."
"Yes he is." She corrected me, "We all are, otherwise we wouldn't be here."
"There are grow ups here." I pointed out, "The pirates are grown ups. Some of the fairies are grown ups."
She waved it off, "The lost children are specifically children. None of them, including Peter or any of us, are grown ups."
"Us? Meaning, I'm a child?"
Wendy laughed, as if I had just asked the most ridiculous question in the world, "What else would you be? An adult? Hardly, Fee. You're just as a much a child as I am."
I brushed aside my feelings behind her statement and got back to what I wanted to know, "You're evading the point. Why did Peter yell?"
"I already told you. It was because one of the boys widened his--"
"No," I interrupted, "I understand what he yelled about, but that doesn't explain why. Why would he yell at you? He loves you, Wendy. It makes no sense that he'd take his anger out on you."
Wendy went wide eyed and I saw her cheeks redden, "You think he loves me?"
I chuckled and scooted myself further back on the couch, "Wendy are you completely blind? I've only seen you two together a few times and it's blatantly obvious."
She sheltered her face with her long tendrils of chestnut hair, but I knew the expression on her face. Once again, I couldn't place a memory on why the expression was so familiar to me, but I knew there was one.
"Which is why it's absurd that he yelled at you." I continued, putting a hand under my chin, "It seems highly unlike him."
"It was." She answered, her cheeks still slightly flushed.
"And you're positive he's never done this before?"
She shook her head, "No. Never. He has always been kind, except when in the face of enemies, of course."
"It's early." I noted, narrowing my eyes as I thought, "What was Peter doing out?"
"He had gotten word of a fire in the Pixie Hollow Palace. Tinkerbell told him that the palace was under attack and that the fairies needed help with the assassins. Peter flew over there in the night to help put out the fires and to search for the attackers. The Queen told him that they had escaped back through the portal before they were caught, unfortunately."
I almost choked on the saliva in my throat when she mentioned a fire at Pixie Hollow. The fire I created. Wendy looked at me for a response to her story, and I had to try extremely hard to seem as casual about the situation as possible.
"That's atrocious." I cleared my throat, further pushing my sword beneath me to hide it from her, "Do they, um, do they know who did it?"
Wendy shook her head and I hid the relief I felt.
"Only partially. There were two people, and they recognized one."
I felt a panic again, "What do you mean partially?"
Her gentle face turned sinister and I could see the pure animosity in her sky blue eyes, "The main attacker was none other than the vile Captain Arthur Hook. By now I'm sure you've heard of him. He's Captain Hook's sinister son. He lures women aboard his ship, and then he lets his crew have their way with her. He's disgusting and has no honor, just like his wicked father." She shook her head, "I pray that you never cross paths with him again, sister. If you fell for one of his tricks, it would be quite ghastly."
I masked the worry on my face. Everyone knew it was Arthur. They would be looking for him, blaming him for what had happened. And worse still, this added to his persona of being ruthless, the exact opposite of what I needed to convince my sister that Arthur was a good and true man.
"Yes." I nodded, staring stone faced into the fire, "Ghastly."
Wendy sighed and sat up, putting her delicate hands on her knees, "They don't know who his companion was. All anyone can say is that it was a girl. A rather beautiful girl. She entered the palace with him under a false name and they planned on murdering the Queen."
"Murder?" I blurted out, much more concerned than I ought to have been.
"I'm afraid so." She nodded, "It's a good thing the Fureen guards were there to do their job."
I almost scoffed, remembering how the Fureen were the first ones to go down when Arthur fought back, but I caught myself before I did anything rash.
"Nobody knows who this girl is? The one who was with the pirate?" I asked.
"There are rumors." She whispered, leaning close to me, "The mermaids say that she's been traveling with him for some time now. They say that he follows her around like a puppy dog, bending to her every whim."
I raised an eyebrow and tried to mask the smugness I felt, "Does he now?"
"Oh, yes. The mermaids say that she's beautiful. They say that she's fearless, and that she's just as strong as any man. They say she stands up to the Captain and can defend herself against his men. She can control them all by her beauty and wit alone, the strength is just a bonus."
I covered the grin on my lips by resting my hand over my mouth. So this was my reputation around Neverland? A beautiful, fearless pirate woman? I couldn't wait to lay the information on Arthur about what a weak puppy I've apparently made him.
"And nobody knows a name for this girl? Or where she came from?" I asked, pretending to have little interest.
Wendy shook her head, "That's just the thing. They say she is from our world, sister. That she's a normal human, just like you or I. But I think the mermaids must be mistaken. You see, the mermaids love to gossip, but I think they've gotten the information wrong. How can this girl be just a human if she has the power to make the dishonorable Captain Arthur Hook do her bidding?"
I bit my knuckle, purposefully looking away from Wendy to hide my complacent smirk, "Indeed. She must be something else. Magical, perhaps."
"Yes, that's the only explanation for it." She agreed, springing up off the couch lightly, "And as for her name, they don't know her real one. It's something only the Captain knows. But to everyone else, she's know as Lady Wicked Devine."
I quietly inhaled a sharp breath, pleasantly shocked at the intense sounding name.
Lady Wicked Devine.
I could get used to that.
Now I really couldn't wait to go find Arthur.
Wendy brushed her hands down her dress and wiggled her fingers at me, "I'll be seeing you later, sister."
"What?" I snapped out of my proud daze and watched her back away to the stairs, "Where are you going?"
"It's nearly lunch time. I'm going to gather the boys so they can eat."
"They can do that themselves. What, are you their mother?"
As I said it, I realized my mistake. She was their mother. I closed my mouth and gave her an apologetic smile. "Right."
Wendy laughed and leaned her head around the corner of the stairs, "You just wait here. I'll be back soon."
And then she was off.
I sighed and raked my hands through my hair, being careful to avoid misplacing the red bandana. This short conversation with Wendy had felt like a life time, and had taken the energy out of me.
Between Slightly resenting me, Wendy accepting me, and Peter confusing me, I was absolutely drained.
I stretched out my legs on the couch beside me and felt the satisfying relief of tension leaving my sore muscles. I curled into a ball on my side and watched the flames jump in the fire pit. Before I knew it, I was fast asleep.
*********
"How many times have I told you!"
I was abruptly pulled from a relaxing dream by the sound of loud yelling. I gasped and sat up, not fully gathering my surroundings until I rubbed my hands vigorously on my eyes. I looked around the room and saw that it was still empty, the fire still flickering. I couldn't have been sleeping for very long.
"That's a lie and you know it."
Another booming sentence echoed down the halls of the burrow, startling me at the sheer volume of it.
"Stop making excuses and fess up to your pathetic mistake."
The person yelling sounded familiar, but I couldn't quite place the face behind it. None of the Lost Boys had ever yelled before, so naming the voice was difficult without seeing who it was. But whoever it was, they were wrathful.
"Is something wrong with your ears? Because I've asked a question three times now and you've yet to answer me."
I was beyond intrigued as to who would be screaming this angrily, and this loudly, at anybody else. Especially the innocent kids who lived in this borrow. I let my curiosity guide me off the couch and down the hallway, my fingers trailing slowly on the dirt walls as I approached the sound of the disturbance.
"I heard what you said. I'm sorry it happened but I'm telling you, it wasn't me!"
I rounded the corner of the hall and found myself looking into a room with two people in it.
Slightly, and Peter.
They were in the room with the bizarre human-shaped cut outs in the walls, and Peter was pointing furiously at one that looked about his size. His face was bright red, and his muscles tense with aggravation. In normal circumstances he and Slightly were only a few inches apart in height, but in Peter's infuriated state, he towered over a terrified Slightly.
"I know that you're lying, you little thief!" Peter screamed, getting closer to Slightly, "You stole my tree from me. You broke it!"
"I didn't!" Slightly cried, "I swear!"
Peter snarled and shook his reddish mop of hair, "You can swear all you want, but I know it was you, and you're going to pay for it."
I saw Peter's hand go up, about to strike Slightly across the face.
"No!" I shouted.
Before my brain even registered what was happening, I ran into the room and grabbed Peter's hand before it connected with Slightly's face.
Peter changed his livid attention from Slightly to me. His eyes flickered between my hand on his wrist, and my face. He looked even more enraged than he did a minute ago. This close to him, I could see the redness in his eyes and feel the heat of his skin. Peter's eyes connected with mine one last time, and then I felt the eye watering sting as he smacked me across the face with his other hand.
"You foolish girl." He spat, wrenching his hand free of me as I staggered backwards, seeing stars in my vision, "How dare you get in my way."
I pressed my hand across the cheek that was slapped and felt the lingering prickle of his poignant slap. I would have collapsed to the floor from the force of it, but Slightly had caught me at the last minute and was using all his effort to keep me from falling over.
When I finally had the courage to open my eyes again, my jaw hardened in pain, I was greeted by a sneering Peter.
"Hurts, doesn't it, girl?" He smirked, "Perhaps that will teach you twice about getting in my way. I thought you had learned your lesson already when you tried to keep Wendy from me. When you beckoned her home, forcing me to give her up. But it didn't work out well for you, did it? You got her back, but not really. And then I stole her away again, and yet here you are, trying to claim her." He put his hands behind his back, "You can't win. Wendy will always be mine before she is yours. You'll never have her back."
I lifted myself off of Slightly, my face still numb with pain, and I felt all the hatred I had suppressed for him come flying out. My face heated with the anger that manifested from hearing him say these things. From him laying a hand on me.
"My sister is not an item." I spat, standing proudly between him and Slightly, "You may have her in your twisted little net, but she will see through it eventually. You're evil, and she will soon discover."
Peter laughed, a spine tingling sound, "And who's gonna tell her? You? She'd never believe you above me. She'll think you're lying."
"Maybe." I smirked, shooting daggers at him with my eyes, "But I guess we'll just have to see about that, won't we, boy?"
Peter's conceited smile dropped from his face. I saw a poison overtake his features as he curled his lip at me, the muscles in his arms toughening as he began to approach us again.
In the blink of an eye I whipped out my sword and held it surefootedly at him, my arm strong as it pointed the sharp metal at his chest, my features hard and serious. He stopped short and looked down at the steady sword inches away from his exposed skin.
"You wouldn't." He hissed, his teeth barred.
I took a confident step forward, pressing the tip of the sword against his chest and keeping my balance by separating my feet, my arm solid in its position.
"Try me."
Peter kept his hateful eyes locked on mine for a long time, testing me. My arm never wavered in its defense, staying stable and secure as it brushed against his skin. I kept my breathing calm and prepared myself for if he decided to fight back, anticipating my first move, just as Arthur had taught me.
After an eternity of his glaring at me, his expression broke, and I saw a shock wash over him. It was subtle, only his eyes giving it away as he looked around the room, down at the sword, and then finally at my face. He seemed to notice the red mark his hand had left on my cheek, because after staring at me he quickly glanced down at his hand. He looked back up at me one last time, and then stumbled away and ran out the door.