Chapter Fifteen
When they arrived at the Indian's camp, Peter immediately went to Big Chief, and after a few low spoken words, the two of them entered the latter's teepee to speak privately.
Kaytee sat around a small bonfire outside the teepee, eating breakfast with the boys, all of them subdued and anxious. The walk over here had been quiet, as if their discovery of the slaughtered animals had enhanced the silence of the jungle. It was ominous, still, like the silence after someone knocks on the door. Peter and Kaytee hadn't spoken anymore on the matter of Hook. She knew he would tell them all when they needed to know.
And so he did. After a long time, Big Chief and Peter emerged from the large dwelling, both grim, but with a determined set to their jaws. Tiger Lily followed them out, which surprised Kaytee since she hadn't seen the princess enter before, then assumed she'd already been inside. Big Chief called out to the camp words of gathering and urgency. Quickly, his tribesmen surrounded the same fire, sitting by Kaytee and the boys. Kaytee caught Peter's eye and he nodded, his shoulders sagging with a deep sigh. And then he stepped forward.
"The great fire your people helped us put out last night was not one of accident or chance," Peter spoke, and Big Chief followed him in his native tongue, translating smoothly in his huge, gravelly voice, "It was a fire off terror and malice that nearly destroyed all of Pixie Hollow and the fairies that lived inside. You might have also noticed a silence in the jungle, a stillness. This, too, is the result of evil, evil we have faced before and will now face again."
He paused here, taking a steadying breath, glancing at Nibs, whose steady gaze and reassuring dip of his chin helped Peter continue, "The pirate, Captain Hook, who we thought eaten by the Great Crocodile so long ago has returned." As he said this, with the chief's words following, a wave of murmuring unease shifted through the camp. Peter cleared his throat and went on, "He is working alongside Jude and the other Lost Boys I had Banished. They have come seeking revenge. I have accepted the invitation to battle in three days time, where we will meet on the east shore when the sun is highest on the third day."
One more pause, "If we do not defeat them, they will poison the island and destroy every life it holds."
Many stood in uproar, yelling and protesting. Most were stunned at the dramatic turn of events. Their lives were easy and with routine. Now, in just a few minutes of speaking, all that was threatened. It took a few minutes for enough peace to settle before anything more was said.
"Our people have always been a people of peace and harmony. These foes have violated this sacred island in their slaughter and acts of fire. Of course, we will fight with you," Big Chief nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. Tiger Lily translated his words and the Indians crowed, stomping their feet. "And that Child Killer will wish he had stayed in the Great Croc's belly!"
More cheering and crowing. Battle cries rose into the air, along with shaking fists and the occasional spear.
"We've faced his lot before, Peter," Nibs stood, clapping a hand to the other's shoulder, "We'll do it again. We could always use more sword practice anyway."
This began the conversation of training. While the Indians were skilled in hunting with bow, arrow, and spear, that was for animal, not man, and they would have to learn different strategies. Their weapons maker immediately went into action of sorting spear heads and full sheathes of fresh arrows, among other necessities.
Peter also had the Lost Boys travel in teams with Injun guards back to their Home to get every spare sword and dagger they had to supply their small army. Meanwhile, the heavy stockpile of animal hide was now being used for makeshift armor instead of clothes.
They wasted no time in setting up archery and spear throwing ranges. The higher up Injun soldiers taught close hand dagger maneuvers to every able bodied man. The Indians often made sport of hand to hand combat, but now it was practiced for life or death scenarios. Gone was the fun, easy going, no worry atmosphere that usually floated along the smokey air. Now, they prepared for war.
In a spot further on the outskirts of camp, Peter oversaw all those practicing swordplay. It mostly consisted of the Lost Boys, Kaytee, and a dozen younger Indian men whose slim physiques matched them better to fight with a blade rather than spear. Peter paired everyone up and went around critiquing stance, offense and defense forms, with an emphasis on disarming.
"Don't just hack away at them and exhaust yourself," He commented, running his blade along Nibs', who was helping Peter demonstrate. Tiger Lily stood nearby and translated. "Lock your blade, swing, and shove-" He said, showing exactly so, and Nibs' sword clattered to the ground, "and then it's yours."
Kaytee took a break beside Tiger Lily and Peter while the rest continued their individual duels. The princess sighed and flexed her hands in agitation. Kaytee asked if she was alright.
"I am feeling... helpless." Tiger Lily replied, her aged brown eyes meeting Kaytee's, her brow puckered, "I am to stay here while my father goes into battle."
Kaytee frowned, surprised, "What for? I've seen you shoot. And you can fight just as well as any of us, better than most, even."
The princess smiled sadly, "Thank you. But it is not a matter of if I am capable." She shook her head and continued, "If my father falls in battle, I will take his place as leader of our people. I must stay here, to ensure I am well."
Peter crossed his arms, and without moving his eyes from the swordplay in front of them, commented, "Well, that's for the best then. To be safe. If it's what's necessary, I know you'd do what you need to for your people."
Tiger Lily's eyes tightened and she peered at him from the corner of her eyes, "Um, yes. Of course I would. I only wish to feel I'm helping my people more than simply staying alive."
"But sometimes staying alive is the best thing you can do for someone." Peter nodded, eyes ever locked on the sparring. Then he stepped away, Tiger Lilly in tow, to comment on Tootles' turned-in foot, and the posture of his Indian partner.
Kaytee's eyes squinted as a sneaking suspicion crept into her stomach. Her arms crossed, lips pursed, she impatiently waited for Peter to come back to his spot beside her. When he did, Tiger Lilly a further space away than before, Kaytee stepped closer and smiled at him sweetly.
"So what was that about, huh?" she began, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Peter didn't look at her, hands on his hips, "What was what about?"
Kaytee glanced at Tiger Lilly behind his shoulder. "That whole 'staying alive is the best thing you can do for someone' nonsense. What was that about?"
Peter was quiet for a second and then finally turned to look at her, "It was about the fact that you will be staying here with Tiger Lily during the battle."
Kaytee blinked. Then she tilted her head and spoke lowly, "I'm going to what now?"
Peter, unfazed, replied, "It's not up for discussion. You'll stay here and be safe."
"Like hell I am!" Kaytee's voice raised and the closest three duelers stopped their sparring. She glanced at them and then grabbed Peter's wrist, pulling him into the nearby jungle, away from prying eyes and ears.
She dropped his arm and spun around, "I will be at that battle. Why would you even consider that I wouldn't? It's sexist, idiotic, selfish- I can't fathom the rest!"
Peter shook his head, his mouth set in a firm line, "It's not up for discussion."
"You're right, it's not. Because I'll be there."
"You won't."
"Really? What are you going to do, Peter Pan?" She hissed, stepping close, "Tie me up? Chain me to a tree?"
"Maybe I'll even gag you," Peter snapped sarcastically and rolled his eyes.
"So let me get this straight: you'll let Twins go into battle, the two boys that barely reach our waists, but you won't let me?"
"No. I won't. And that's final."
"Why?" She demanded, voice growing shrill again, "Even you can admit I've become a good swordsman, at least on the same level as Nibs and he's as close to an equal to you as they come! Why do you forbid me-"
"Because I will not lose you again!" He yelled, his own voice raising to cut hers off. His body radiated an air of challenge, his chin set, the muscles of his jaw flexing, and yet in his eyes shown an undeniable sadness. Silence followed as Kaytee frowned, shaking her head.
"Lose me again?" She repeated his words like a question, "Since when have you ever lost me? I've given myself to you body, soul, heart over and over again, when have I ever-" Kaytee broke off and sucked in a sharp breath, stepping back. "You don't mean me... you mean her. Wendy." She said the name in contempt, a foul word.
"What? This has nothing to do with her." Peter reeled back in shock, but from the way his eyes darted to the side, Kaytee knew she'd hit the mark.
"Oh, this has everything to do with her, Peter!" Kaytee growled, "I cannot believe your nerve- comparing my wanting to fight with her wanting to leave. This is nothing close to the same thing!"
"That's not it! All I'm asking is for you to stay here, stay with Tiger Lily," He pleaded, "Stay alive."
"And if I don't?" She sneered, "Does that mean I love you less? Does that mean, like Wendy, I'll jump at the first opportunity to leave you? Because, obviously, if you weren't good enough for her, why would you be good enough for me?"
This time, Peter stepped back with a gasp like he'd been slapped. Instantly, guilt flooded Kaytee's chest and her eyes filled with tears of hurt and anger.
"Why does being terrified of your death make me a villain?" Peter whispered, his eyes downcast to the ground. A quiet moment passed and then he continued, "No, Kaytee, despite what you think, I'm not comparing this to Wendy leaving. I'm comparing the pain I felt when she had left to the devastation I would feel if you were to fall. I never loved her, and yet it hurt when she left. So to lose you?" He shook his head and when his eyes met hers, they were wet and rimmed red with tears, "I don't know how I'd survive it."
Kaytee stepped towards him and raised her hands in pleading, "Peter, I can never promise you I'll survive. But while Tiger Lily's role is to be leader to her people, my role is to remain by your side, now and forever, and I intend to keep that role in battle, not just when it's easy."
When he said nothing to this, his eyes falling to the ground again, she continued, "Peter, Jude nearly raped me. I must be the one who fights him. I must be one who watches the light leave his eyes. Do not- do not- take away this chance of justice from me. It's what I'm owed."
"No, Kaytee, Jude is far too advanced," an edge of panic crept into Peter's voice, his eyes widening as they snapped up, "He would easily take you, and I won't be able to fight him and Hook at the same time-"
"Then teach me to be better!" She pleaded again, throwing her hands up, "All day, you've been letting me practice only with Tootles or Slightly, never yourself. Teach me how to end him and I will. You know I'm a fast learner, you know I'm strong."
She could tell his will to stop her was crumbling. She pressed on, her voice softer, "I understand you're worried I'll get hurt. I'm terrified of losing one of the boys- or gods forbid, you- but I'm not going around telling everyone to wait and hide. This is as much their battle as it is ours."
She stepped closer and cupped his face in her hands, "You won't lose me. But I must do this. I can't sit back while my family risks their lives. Do not ask that of me. I'm just as scared of losing you as you are of me, but I have faith in you. Have it in me, too."
He closed his eyes and grabbed her wrists as she held his face, and whispered "If I lost you, Kaytee... I don't know what I would do."
"You'd probably wish you'd taught me how to parry better."
He frowned and opened his eyes, "Not funny."
She snickered and then grew serious, running her thumbs along the powdering of freckles under his eyes, "Teach me how to be better than him and you won't have to worry about this anymore. Please, don't push me to the side. I can do this."
He was quiet, searching her eyes. He saw her stubborn determination, the challenging set of her jaw, the tilt of her chin and knew any argument he tried would be denied. Maybe he really would have to gag her.
He sighed and nodded, "Okay. I'll teach you. But I won't go easy this time."
She stepped back and crossed her arms, "Since when did you ever go easy?"
He smirked and cocked a singular brow, "Since we'd get to bed faster whenever you'd win."
Cheeks flushed red, she stomped after him to camp, and said nothing more, because, to her chagrin, he was right.
When they arrived back at the camp, Kaytee hurried off to get her sword from their pile of weapons, and Nibs, after watching her go, smirked at Peter and said, "So she's coming, then?"
Peter grimaced and nodded.
Slightly snickered and raised an eyebrow, shrugging his shoulders, "Well, I'd say that rather went exactly as we expected, then."
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Though Peter kept true to his word and taught Kaytee every maneuver to out fight Jude, the process was far from easy. Without Peter holding back, Kaytee ended up more sore and tired at the end of the first day than she had when he'd first taught her to spar, covered in cuts and bruises. It was only the medicinal plants, with their magic healing properties, that kept her well enough to carry on.
That, and her pride. In her mind, now that she had made such a hard argument for her to join the battle, she could show no weakness. No wavering. She would scarcely stop for water or rest. Even Peter's breath grew ragged and drops of sweat would fly off his jaw and back as they carried on.
"Again," she would say after he would disarm her.
"Again," was her only response to falling backwards, his sword to her chin.
"Again," she wheezed as her arms shook and her knees buckled.
"Again," she groaned as she dropped her own sword, her grip failing from fatigue.
"No," Peter whispered, the night air dark around them, the bonfire reflecting in the sheen of sweat on their brows. "No more."
"I said," She batted at him clumsily with her training sword, the blunt edge whacking his shoulder, "again."
In a flash, he grabbed her sword and easily tugged it free of her weak grasp. As impassive as she had ever seen him, he simply shook his head, tossed their swords to the side, and walked off towards their tent.
It was just the first night, though it had felt like an eternity since they arrived this morning. Peter and Kaytee hadn't ceased training since they had spoken about her joining their battle. Now, most were already off to bed, the Lost Boys in their separate tepees not far from Peter and Kaytee's.
Usually, when they stayed the night at the Indian camp, they'd simply sleep outside in blankets under the stars. But with the upcoming battle, and since they assumed they were always being watched by hidden eyes in the jungle surrounding, tents were pitched for the two nights they would sleep.
Originally, they started building three tepees, one for Kaytee, one for Peter, and one for the Lost Boys to share. But Peter split the Lost Boys between two of them and then took his and Kaytee's belongings into the third, effectively declaring he would not be sleeping in any bed in which Kaytee did not lie in. Their nights felt limited. The private moments they would share together seemed increasingly rare.
Kaytee entered the tepee with trepidation, her exhaustion leaving her vulnerable. A small lantern hung from the support beam in the center, throwing a warm glow across the inside of their little dwelling. The air was thick with the smell of fresh incense, chopped wood, and hay.
Peter was obviously agitated, throwing towels and clothes off from bed, adjusting the covers in snappish tugs, and then pouring a glass of water from a small jug left at the side. All without a word, just stiff movements, not glancing up. Kaytee felt awkward, so she took a steadying breath and tied close the canvas doorway.
He finished his water, sat on the edge of the bed, and rested his head in his hands. A statue of a tired young man, and her heart ached.
Kaytee swallowed, unsure if he was angry at her or about to forbid her again from going to the battle. She'd rather thought she had made some progress today, but to someone as advanced as Peter, maybe she seemed more hopeless than she'd thought. Maybe she shouldn't fight Jude...
No, she thought, I must. I must.
Silently, she poured her own glass of water, drank it, then downed another, and then a third, gasping between long pulls. The joints of her hands ached just from holding the cup and she set it back down, massaging them with sore fingers. Then, his hands appeared over hers, gently placing them in his own. She looked up, scared of what she'd see in his eyes, but his gaze was set on their hands, his rubbing the tender flesh on her aching knuckles, hers red and swollen.
"I did this the first time we practiced," he whispered, still not meeting her eyes, his grasp warm and gentle as was his voice.
She smiled, a tired pull of the corners of her mouth, "You did. It was very sweet and...rather intoxicating."
The left side of his mouth pulled up just slightly, and he peeked at her through his lashes, "Is it intoxicating now?" He lifted a hand to his lips and brushed them against her palm, shooting fresh electricity along her tired muscles. Somewhere deep in her belly, a twinge of anticipation awoke.
He kissed her other palm, and followed down her wrist, kissing her forearm, the crook of her elbow. He stepped forward and kissed her shoulder, his chest pressing to hers as his lips brushed her neck, her jaw, her ear. His hands wound around her waist and he rested his forehead to hers, eyes closed, breathing in her perfume, her scent of Neverland and sweat and soap and smoke.
"Does this mean you aren't mad at me?" She whispered tentatively, her heart hammering, the result of just a few strategic kisses from him.
He sighed and opened his eyes, pulling away just enough to look at her. The soft light of the lantern caught the flecks of gold in her eyes, flecks he'd noticed had only appeared after the Healing Fairies had worked their magic on her. He counted five flecks in the right eye, three in the left. For however long they would last, he would adore them.
"I'm not mad at you," He whispered, and then his brow drew together, "When we practice, I have to think of every strategy Jude might use to kill you. All the ways he might cut you down, all the ways he might take you from me. It was like I was predicting your death... it's breaking me in ways I've never anticipated."
Kaytee flinched, not realizing how much pain he had been going through. All she had been worried about was not showing weakness, to prove to him she could learn. In turn, she had been blind to what had been really bugging him. Every time he would beat her was another tick to the list of many ways Jude might do the very same thing in two days. But then, it wouldn't be with blunt tipped practice swords. A fact Peter was all too aware of.
"Maybe Nibs could practice with me while you watch?" she offered. Forget her own pain: his was unbearable.
He shook his head, his jaw flexing in the shadow of the lantern, "No. I need to teach you." He sighed and kissed her forehead, "And part of that teaching is telling you to rest."
She sighed too and felt every aching muscle in her body. Yes, sleep was a lesson she could easily learn.
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After a long morning of talking battle strategy with Big Chief, they were confident in the game plan for the following day. After scouts had sketched an accurate layout of the shore Hook bid Peter to meet on, they planned. There would be two teams of archers that would scale the trees just on the very edge of the beach. Then, the main volley of attack would commence, led by Big Chief and his tribesman laden with spears and shields. They would initially meet the pirates halfway, and slowly retreat back so the archers could pick them off from their perches in the trees.
At the same time, the Lost Boys would come in on the sides or fly onto the ship via fairy dust, wherever Jude's followers were scattered. This would only be after Peter and Kaytee landed on deck of the newly built Jolly Roger, Peter knowing already that Hook and Jude would remain on the ship.
"They don't want to deal with the rest," Peter shook his head, hands splayed on the sketches of the beach, "They'll wait for us there."
Kaytee and Peter practiced again all day, breaking only for water or food. Often, a crowd would gather around them, mostly the Lost Boys, Nibs often keeping track of Kaytee's stance if Peter missed it.
The first time she knocked Peter's sword from his hand late in the afternoon, the dozen of onlookers around them whooped and cheered at her victory. She tapped the tip of her sword to his stomach with a breathless giggle and Peter couldn't hide his relief, actually happy to be beaten for once. It was an even match after that. Neither of them gained ground, nor landed a fatal blow. Finally, before dinner was ready, Peter held up his sword and smiled tiredly, "That's it. You're ready."
She panted, her aching arms falling to her sides, blowing a strand of hair from her eyes, "If I'm this good after two days, I'll be better than you in a week, just watch."
"Yeah, sure," he rolled his eyes and then took her hand, "keep telling yourself that, love."
Dinner the night before a great battle was not a subdued event in the Indian camp. Food was plentiful and well seasoned, drink ever flowing in cups, music always playing. Dances of bravery and love and prosperity were trotted, stomped, rejoiced to the stars as the bonfire crackled and sang in the center. Peter's small headdress of feathers and Kaytee's crown were placed on their heads, much like her first night on Neverland, and the sight made her oddly nostalgic.
When she first came to Neverland, she had been so new and unaware of the deep magic that had surrounded her. She had been ignorant of the bonds that were forming between her and the land, the people, the atmosphere. But now, as she prepared to risk her life to preserve those bonds, she only felt a sense of true belonging. How lucky she was to have something so important, she truly would die for it. To have a love so undeniable she would do everything she could to keep it safe.
That night, when Peter and Kaytee made love, there was no sense of desperation. There was no clinging to their happiness as if it would slip away at any moment. There was only love, vulnerable and breathless and warm, as it had always been for them. Whatever came tomorrow, they had tonight. And they would spend that night in the same way they would want to spend the rest of their lives: together.