He extended a hand toward her. “I’m sure the townspeople are still frightened. A friendly face against whatever villains remain would brighten their spirits, don’t you think?”
Maggie was overwhelmed with all of it. With belonging, with love, with feeling like she was valued, with the idea of being needed. It was far more than she ever knew before, but she wanted every last crumb of it, like a greedy child who ached for cake. Maggie reached for the King of Neverland, letting her hand melt against his own. She let him lead the way, and never once questioned the path she was on.
13
If there was a way to pause a singular moment and remain there for as long as possible, Maggie would have done it right then and there.
Near the bottom of the treehouse, a living room held Maggie, Peter Pan, the Lost Boys, and Sunny. A fireplace was carved into the wall, with a comforting warmth radiating out of it. The orange glow cast a wave of colors through the room, all that reminded Maggie of a sun crashing into a quiet horizon. Orange and red and yellow splashed across the floor in streaks, their shadows stretched high on the walls. A plethora of plush pillows had been layered along the floor, most of them taken by Sunny as he snoozed deeply.
The feline stretched a paw high above his head as he yawned and got more comfortable over the pillows. The satin and silk formed around the cat’s long frame, swallowing him up entirely. The reddish hue of the fire covered the cat as he napped, the warmth just reaching Maggie and where she sat with the rest of the Lost Boys and their King.
“I dunno,” Twitch murmured as he held his hand up, inspecting the freshest layer of color Maggie applied to his nails. “Honestly, I think purple is just my color.”
Laughter ensued across the cozy space. The day’s events took a toll out of them all, though Maggie was sure she was the most exhausted. After the last of the pirates were expelled from the town, and the townspeople were deemed safe and sound, Maggie was in a daze as she was led back to the treehouse. Colors blurred by her as the drowsiness took its toll, desperate for her to collapse to the floor and give up right then and there. But Peter’s hand never once left her, whether it was latched onto her shoulder or lingering around her waist. The King of Neverland was always there, guiding her forward and leading her to their quiet sanctuary.
Scamp picked up the bottle Maggie was using to paint their nails. Holding it high above his head, he watched the liquid inside glitter, sparkle, and change color, all depending on how the light hit it. “Where’d you say you got this stuff, anyways?”
“The mermaids sent it,” Maggie replied as she plucked it from his hands. “And you should hold still. I’m not done yet.”
With his long hair tied into a braid at the back of his head, Scamp pouted before handing himself back over to Maggie. The Lost Boys willingly passed their hands over when Maggie expressed a deep desire to replicate things from her past, things she hadn’t done in ages. The look on Scamp’s face, Maggie knew, was because he wanted to pet the cat. They formed a bond Maggie never expected, and if Sunny wasn’t trailing at her own heels, he was seeking out Scamp. The cat took his moment of solitude to lounge as much as he wanted – something Maggie often found herself to be jealous of.
Twitch stretched his arms behind his head before laying over the pillows, his legs crossed. “I’d say this has been quite the successful day,” he mused.
“Pirates… done and done,” Dash listed. “I’ve had my hair braided, my nails painted, and I’m about to eat as many snacksas I want.” He shrugged as the long french braid fell over his shoulder. “Job well done, I think.”
Maggie’s laughter filled the air as she finished painting the last coat of color over Scamp’s nails. He waved his hands around to try and dry it quicker, his eyes already excitedly landing on the snoozing cat.
Turning around, Maggie searched for nails that hadn’t been painted yet. She wasn’t looking long, until Peter stuck his arm out and waggled long fingers in front of her eyes. She grinned and snatched his wrist, pulling him closer to her. The King of Neverland scooted across the layers of pillows, until he was directly across from her. She took his wide hand eagerly, pausing for only a moment as she noticed just how much larger they were in comparison to her own. She shook the bottle before the color landed on a deep sky blue, speckled with a slurry of silver sparkles.
“Ah,” Peter breathed as she began painting. “That’s just my color.”
She cracked a grin. “All this pirate business today got me curious,” she murmured.
“Curious about what?”
“Well, the pirates, of course,” Maggie replied with a shrug. “I don’t remember being warned about certain villainy on the island when I first arrived.”
Peter’s cheeks turned a rusty hue, the color surprising her until she realized he was blushing with embarrassment. “There are pirates all over Neverland, you know.”
“Sure,” she said. “Plenty of them come to the restaurant.”
“Those pirates aren’t loyal to Captain Hook,” Peter explained. “Good pirates who have an inkling toward uncovering priceless artifacts, drawing maps, or going on adventures often find an accepting home in Neverland.”
Maggie nodded slowly. “So what’s the big idea with Hook and his crew, anyways?”
Twitch laid out across the pillows in the same fashion as the snoozing feline. “There’s always got to be a bad guy, doesn’t there?” he teased with a short laugh. “Hook’s just a guy who wants more than he was ever destined to have. So, of course, he goes for the people who got it all.”
Dusty made a noise from in front of the fire. “The pirate’s a jerk,” he murmured, “but we don’t see him on shore too often. He sends his goons in every now and then, but the sea and faraway islands are Hook’s home.”
“Do you mean to say he isn’t allowed on Neverland?” Maggie asked.
Peter straightened but didn’t dare pull his hands out from within her own. “Let’s just call it an unspoken rule,” he said. “It never really mattered much in the past, especially since Hook never made it a routine to attack.”
Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“You saw what happened out there,” he explained, the corner of his lip already curling into a proud smirk. “Unfortunately for Hook and his lot, they don’t happen to win very often. Well, ever. It keeps them away for most of the time, until their captain gains enough confidence in a plan to try again.”
The Lost Boys chuckled and laughed as they ruminated over Captain Hook’s tendency to rarely attack. Maggie didn’t find herself as quick to join their humor, her mind stuck on what could have happened if she had remained within the treehouse. Perhaps the captain fixed up a plan capable of letting him finally win, if only she hadn’t shown up. Out of all the times before, Maggie was never there to be factored in. Something in the back of her mind wanted to say that Hook could have succeeded if she was never in Neverland, but she shoved it away as fast as itentered. After all, Peter and his Lost Boys had always succeeded without her before.
