"Wendy, you simply must come and see this," urged Jhon, shaking her arm and making her blot her parchment with red ink. She turned to glare at him.
"I've told you, Jhon, if it has anything to do with that Pan boy, I shall neither hear nor see anything." she snapped, taking up some blotting paper.
"Oh, but Wendy," cried Micheal, "You must accept the challenge, or they'll vanish you!"
"Excuse me?", said Wendy, her eyes wide as she turned to her youngest brother.
"Banish" corrected Jhon, "It's bad either way."
Wendy's blood ran cold. She had expected a challenge, but not this soon.
Surely they didn't mean to have it within the next week or so, she simply couldn't manage it!
"Either way, darling, you must come," said a sharp unloving voice. Wendy's face turned surly and she grimaced. At the door stood a tall woman in a perrywinkle dress.
"That's mother's," said Wendy in an icy tone. Jhon and Micheal looked distraught at the sight of the dress as well.
"Suits me, doesn't it?" smiled the woman, Valerie, smoothening the front of the delicate dress.
Wendy clenched her jaw and curled her fists. Her dipping pen snapped in her grip and her nails dug into her palm.
"But, but mommy said Wendy could have that dress one day, Jhon told me so," whispered Micheal timidly, stepping behind Jhon.
"Is that so?" said Valerie, stooping down to Micheal's height, her voice dripping with honey. Micheal nodded behind Jhon.
"Well, I've decided that I like it. Any objections?" said Valerie, straightening and glaring at Wendy, who shook her head, the splinters of the dipping pen stuck in her palm.
"Go to the town square," snapped Valerie before turning at her heels and strutting away.
Wendy released the broken dipping pen, letting it fall with a dull thud. She didn't brush off the splinters and she didn't tie her hair. She simply got up and left the room, headed for the town square. Micheal and Jhon looked forlornly after her. Jhon peeked at the writing desk. His sister had left the ink bottle open. The parchment was blotted from when Jhon startled Wendy. Glancing at the top of the parchment, Jhon saw two words which made him feel absolutely wretched.
"Dear mother," whispered Jhon.
"She was writing a letter to mother?" asked Micheal, standing on his toes and clutching the end of the writing desk.
"Yes. Wendy knew her best, and I'm sure mother loved Wendy dearly." said Jhon, taking Micheal by the hand and leading him out of the room.
"I wish I knew mother," sighed Micheal.
"I didn't know her too well, either, but I know she loved all of us with her whole dear heart," smiled Jhon, his mind travelling back to what few memories he had of and with his mother.
"More than," here Micheal tugged at Jhon's hand, pulling him down to whisper into his ear, "More than new mother?"
Jhon straightened and let out a sharp laugh. "Loads more"
"She's not as mean to us as she is with Wendy,"
"I suppose so, but that doesn't mean she loves us," said Jhon stoutly.
The brothers stepped out of the house and saw their sister further ahead. She was wearing her blue nightgown, billowing in the wind. With her hair tumbling free, she looked like something to be awed upon.
Wendy walked steadily and with purpose towards the town square, her back straight and her mind raging.
How DARE she? She had no right!
These two thoughts roared in her mind, accompanied by several others, clashing together like a storm. She was furious. Furious with Vallerie, furious with her father for marrying such an evil vile creature, furious with that Pan boy and his ridiculous Captain Hook.
Most of all, however, she was furious with herself. For being so weak and so scared. But not anymore. She would start with accepting Peter's challenge and defeating him. Then she'll get the respect she deserves, from her parents and from all the folks in this ridiculous scum of an island.
All the while her thoughts reeled, her face was so stony and determined, it quite scared the passers by. She seemed to be glaring at nothing in particular. While everyone drew back from the determined furious young woman, wearing nothing but her night gown, the red headed boy who stood on the platform of the town square regarded her with awe and admiration. Wendy made a point not to look at him.
Next to Peter stood Captain Hook. He looked surprisingly clean and groomed. His hair was pulled into a neat ponytail and his dirty grimy clothes were swapped with a clean new red suit. His hook gleamed so bright that Wendy was sure it was new as well.
"I didn't know it was a custom among the blessed ones to arrive fashionably late," said Captain Hook testily, fueling Wendy's anger.
"No matter," said the Mayor, who was also on the platform. Wendy went to stand beside him and turned to face the crowd of people who had gathered. A few children, including Jhon and Micheal, offered her huge smiles and grins. Wendy's rage softened as she smiled back.
"We have come here," said Hook loudly "to challenge the so called 'Blessed One'. My apprentice, Peter, has offered to duel this girl," he spat out the word 'girl' in such disgust that Wendy very nearly slapped him. She didn't notice how uncomfortable Peter looked. No one, in fact, payed any attention to Peter. He was just there.
"That's all very well, but I should like to know why you picked such an ungodly hour to tell us so. It's three in the night!" sighed the Mayor. He was an old man, with icy blue eyes and snow white hair. He was not pleased at having been woken up from his slumber.
"A thousand apologies. For my crew, we hardly think about time." said Hook, bowing his head.
"Do you, Wendy Darling, Blessed One, accept this challenge? Keep in mind, it is a battle to the death, and you shall not be allowed to take back your word." said the Mayor, turning to Wendy.
Jhon and Micheal, along with several of the children, held their breaths.
Peter stared at Wendy, who finally met his gaze. She gazed into his emerald green eyes and saw something she wasn't expecting. She thought she would see pride, confidence, spite or even fear. She did not expect the admiration and friendliness in his expression. It infuriated her.
"I accept,"
