The Land Beyond | Peter Pan 2003

Chapter 4: Crown

My fingers run along a large log that stretches on the right side of the ground round room. It had recently been cut, I can tell by the cap that still seeps from the edges, making the tips of my fingers sticky. I frown, practically feeling the life leave the limb. The rest of the room is made of wood as well - all the furniture, all the junk that litters the top of surfaces and edges of the room. Some of the junk appears to be old relics, mostly human, but ancient. In the middle of the room is a rectangular table with three seats on both sides and a crudely made throne at one end against a wall. Candles light up the room, their wax dripping onto the hard rigid surface of the table.

Peter sits on the throne with one leg dangling over the right arm of the chair. He has a big smile on his face as he watches me explore my new environment. We haven't said much since our conversation before, but for some reason, it doesn't feel awkward in a way that it should.

I glance at Peter over my shoulder and notice he quickly looks away, his smile gone and his eyes pretending to be distracted by something.

"Are there adults here?"

"No!" Peter shouts, his eyes back on me and full of disgust.

I bring both hands up in surrender, "sorry."

"It's just me and the boys. The Lost Boys, that is."

Peter gets up and removes a sword from a wooden barrel next to the throne. He waves it up and pretends to be fighting someone in front of him.

"Then where are these boys?" I have yet to see another life beyond Peter and me.

He slams the sword into the table and it sticks where in the wood. He cups his hands around his lips and crows loudly. I clamp my hands over my ears to prevent the sound from hurting me, but it still gets through. His hands fall to his hips and he grins.

The sound of shuffling can be heard from separate rooms attached to this one. Four doors are attached to this round room. I have not explored any of them. For each door, a boy comes out, they gather in a straight line from shortest to tallest, their hands at their sides and backs straight. They all act calm except for the smallest, who begins to giggle. Peter shoots him a glare and the boy immediately stops. Peter stays stern and his eyes narrowed. He remains like this for a few seconds before he breaks and chuckles. The other boys follow in the laughter except for the tallest.

The tallest has the same shade of hair as Peter, but dull brown eyes stare at me with little disgust. I shrink back from his look and wonder what I had done to deserve such a glare. But then I realize. They are all human and the tallest couldn't be any older than Peter. Peter appears to be fifteen.

They all wear similar attire. Ragged clothes made of animal skins underneath leaves and vines - unlike Peter who doesn't wear any animal skin.

Peter clears his throat and goes back to standing straight with his chest puffed out. "Introduce yourselves."

"I am Pint," the smallest smiles. He couldn't be any older than five.

"I am Weasel," says the second smallest. He must be eight.

"I am Rets," chuckles the second tallest. At least ten.

"Nick," scowls the tallest. The only one with normality for a name.

"You are the elf girl Peter always talks about," Pint says, pointing his finger at me.

These kids are so young, much too young to be worried about the friction between human and elf. Where did they come from? Are they like Peter - he's mentioned they are normal while he's unique, but do they also have the power to fly and talk to faeries?

"Can they fly?"

"They can fly with faerie dust, but they don't." Peter drops his hands from his hips and walks up to me. I am less inclined to step away from him and shudder as the wave of his pride washes over me.

"And you want me here because?" I lift a brow and look into his blue eyes. They are a much sharper blue now that I can see them in the light but are full of wonder and innocence. It feels like there is a butterfly in my stomach, fluttering away and making me feel weird.

"To sing to us," Peter smiles.

I pull my eyes from Peter's and look over at the boys. Three of them get on their knees, except for Nick, and place their hands in front of them as if they are to beg. "Please sing to us."

My eyes find their way back to Peter but this time, I glare up at him. "You did plan this."

He smiles coyly and innocently shrugs.

What am I to do? I can't just stay here. My father and his guards will be looking for me the moment they notice I am gone. If they find me here, they may kill Peter and these boys. I'll be the first to admit, I hate humans, but these boys have done nothing to harm me. They are innocent in the ways of war and arguments.

However....

If I stay I won't have to marry if my father doesn't find me. I won't be stuck with the same responsibilities as the daughter of the Elder. I won't have to marry Marion. I'd be free. That's all I have ever wanted. I didn't choose this life, I was born in it and up until now I didn't think I'd have a choice. The chances of being found are very high, my father and his guards are skilled warriors and hunters, centuries of skill building does that to you. Maybe I can stay for a little while?

"I guess I can sing to you."

"We'll also have great adventures!" Peter adds.

I narrow my eyes at him once again. "Yes, and adventures."

Peter steps back and grins, a little twinkle in his blue eyes. "I shall be your King and you, my Queen."

"I don't think you know what that means," I cross my arms.

"Of course I do!" He swings his arms back to spread them at each side.

"It means we'll be married."

Peter smile falters the slightest but doesn't quite disturb the upturn of his lips. "It's just pretend."

Pretend.

Just pretend.

There is a subtle pinch in my heart that I can't explain, but as I glance at all the boys, including Peter, I can't help the small smile that spreads across my face.