Except One

The relationship between Peter and Regan had changed, and both of them knew it. It was hidden in a secret touch, their hands gliding across each others as they flew high between the clouds. The tinge of a rosy blush appearing on the tips of both pair of cheeks. The way when they slept, Peter would unconsciously hold Regan’s hand as he dreamed, because in his dreams that what he was doing. They comprised of Regan and Regan’s comprised of Peter. They were special to each other now.

It didn’t frighten Peter that he was becoming close and almost dependent on the company of Regan. The love and feelings that were blossoming were innocent, something both child had never felt before but what both of them needed and had wanted for long years. The need of being wanted, the want of having someone to hold you when you were sad, to brush away the little tears that dripped from the ends of your eyelashes.

Regan often thought about Peter as she flew, most often he was beside her. She would think about the way he held her hand, the way he said her name. The way that she would look up and catch him staring at her, and he would keep on looking with a small smile on his face with no shame at all.

The thoughts were forgotten one morning however, when she and Peter glided over cove on the right side of the Island. A tall, large structure was a dark blemish in the bright, sparkling waters. It floated on the surface, and figures could be seen walking on the deck. Peter stopped Regan with a firm strong hand on her upper arm. She looked back at the boy and with a fright, noticed his eyes were dark and furious.

“What is it Peter?”, she whispered, afraid of his angry eyes. They were not supposed to be like that, they should be happy, always happy.

Peter dragged her behind the cover of a large cloud where they hovered in the air ad Regan peered at the vast wooden ship Peter was glaring at. Again, she surveyed the dark plain wood that made the hull, the white sails and the sailors on board. She looked at them, keen eyes looking at the colourful clothes, scarves, tattoos and scars. With a twisting fear in her stomach, she didn’t need to look at the cruel black flag bearing the skull and cross bones to know this was no ordinary ship, this was a pirate ship. Blood had stained those planks, people had been thrown over those railings. That was a ship of nightmares.

She felt herself become pale and as her happy thoughts distinguished, she began to drop. Peter broke away from his gaze at the ship to look as Regan floated downwards. He flew beneath her, as nothing could ever break Peter’s happy thoughts and Regan dropped into his arms. She was in shock at the thought of Pirates tainting Neverland with their evil.

Peter flew away, down towards the beach on the farthest end away from the ship and set her down on the soft warm sand. He brushed the tendrils of hair away from her face and she looked at him, trembling slightly. He had an overwhelming urge to protect her, to keep anybody from hurting her because she was his and he would defend her.

“They’re pirates”, she whispered to him and he nodded ad could only speak one word;

“Hook”,

Regan looked at him again “But he’s dead…”

Peter flopped down onto the sand and wriggled his toes “I know…but it’s the Jolly Roger. He can’t be alive. I seen him be eaten, with my own eyes!”

And then dark brown eyes flashed in Regan’s mind. Eyes that held danger in them, adventure. A smile that was cunning and knowing. A chiselled, handsome face was sun kissed as it crossed oceans and faced the elements. And a voice “Hook…William Hook.”

Regan gasped and shot a hand to her mouth “Hook…William Hook. Oh Peter! It’s his son, I know him. I met him as a mermaid. Peter…we have to get rid of them.”

Peter’s eyes were as round as saucers as he listened to Regan’s revelation. He didn’t like to hear about Regan’s mermaid time, but she had discovered something important. A new Hook, with two hands, young and able to fight.

He thought of the options, putting his warrior head cap on. He bit on a finger thoughtfully and looked back to Regan; “We can’t attack them without proof they have done anything wrong. That’s not fair play and Peter Pan is just”,

He grinned as he praised himself and then replaced his serious face. He clicked his tongue and then jumped up again; “I got it! Oh, the cleverness of me….there are only one people that can suffer from the pirates here, and rebel against them!”

Regan gazed at Peter and then smiled “The Indians!”

Peter grabbed her hand and they soared into the air again, this time staying low, happy thoughts full again. Regan had not been inside the Indian Camp yet, and she was filled with excitement. Imagine, real live Indians!

Peter landed neatly, Regan with him and she looked around at the tidy village consisting of small log cabins and deerskin tepees. She smiled, delighted and looked at peter, who smiled back and squeezed her hand.

He raised his hands to his mouth and crowed loudly. There was a flurry of activity in the village as children streamed from everywhere, old women emerged, baskets on hips, their toothless mouths beaming oddly. Young girls giggled in groups eyeing Peter flirtatiously and Regan glared furiously. She didn’t notice the young Indian men eyeing her appreciatively and Peter gripped her hand again, pulling her closer to him in a territorial manner.

Regan didn’t look into the gesture but relished in the feel of Peter’s hand sliding around her waist. He may be a boy, but he had the instinct of a man.

They walked together towards the largest tepee. Two dogs lay in the sun, basking in the warm light. They should have been guarding the entrance but they only grinned lazily at Peter, tongues lolling from their mouths as he passed them and entered the tepee.

Regan stayed close to Peter. The interior was intimidating, the walls covered with the hide of animals, their spotted, striped fur an odd choice of interior design. The chief was old, his face a map of wrinkles, his eyes dark as coal. His black hair, sprinkled with grey was plaited tight and he had decorated it with feathers and strings of coloured stones.

Regan looked at him fearfully but then he smiled at her, inclining his head in respect for the ageless children. His smile was warm, his eyes twinkled and she relaxed. Here, there would be no danger.

Regan waited by Peter, her hand clenched in his as he spoke with the chief in the Indian tongue. She reminded herself to ask Peter later to teach her. It would come in useful. She blushed furiously as she felt the chief’s grandson’s stare and avoided his eye contact, clinging onto Peter.

It seemed like an age they were in there, until finally Peter tugged Regan’s hand and helped her up, guiding her out of the tepee. She blinked against the sunlight, it had seemed dark in the tepee, with the smoky haze clouding her vision.

She ate lunch outside with the families, holding a small toddler who had climbed onto her lap, mystified by her shining blonde hair. She giggled as he tugged it and laughed joyfully, the worry of the pirates forgotten for now.

The worry did not stay at bay for long and as she and Peter opted to walk home through the quiet woods instead of flying, she asked him what the Chief had said.

Peter paused a minute, thinking about how to phrase the answer “They have been troubling the tribe. Demanding food, crops…they even took the village’s prettiest girl as a cook. They have been planning an ambush. Two days…we fight”

Regan’s blood ran cold “Peter…”

Peter looked at her, his blue eyes gazing at her tiny form, so breakable “I want you to stay in the village with the rest of the women. I don’t want you fighting.”,

Regan frowned. He may be Peter Pan but he certainly could not tell her what to do!

“I shall not! If you are fighting Peter, I will be too!”

Peter’s eyes blazed “You will not Regan and that is that.”

Regan narrowed her eyes, and let the dagger drop and poison leak into her words “You let Wendy fight…”,

Peter paused from where he had been walking away and she saw his shoulders droop with sadness, he turned slowly, his eyes clear and heartbreaking “And look where that got me”,

Regan cursed herself for putting pain in his eyes and then she smiled, knowing how to cheer him, “Oh Peter, you’re acting far too grown up!”, she flew up and over his head, landing before him, a large smile gracing her features and causing her nose to scrunch, “please Peter…it would be do fun! The best pretend game in the world. We will be the best fighters!”

Peter grinned and soared into the air “Will be, I am the best fighter in the whole world!”

He circled Regan twice and laughed loudly. Regan laughed with him, oh what fun they would have!

She stopped flying a moment “Oh, but Peter?”,

“Yes”,

“You need to teach me to fight…”,