Grimsby began to slow at a dark, splintered door. “Through here.”
Peter held the door open as Maggie followed the goblin through. Ambient lighting, that could’ve been delightfully warm, only gave the small shop a frightening glow. Yellow light peered out from the crooks and crannies, barely lighting the way forward. Tall wooden shelves that almost reached the ceiling were filled to the brim with glass bottles and leather pouches, their contents unknown to Maggie. Tarot cards were loitered across the shelves, some hanging from the walls, others hungfrom the ceiling. There was a counter near the back, indicating that it was a shop, but Grimsby wasn’t stopping there.
The short goblin pulled a curtain back, revealing another entryway. A cozy room with a few seats and a rectangular table in the middle was behind the curtain. Another door led out of that room, but Grimsby only waved for them to take a seat. Peter eagerly sat on the plush cushion, gingerly pulling at Maggie’s hand to follow. As she relaxed beside him, Grimsby slipped through the other exit, letting the door shut behind him.
Maggie drew in a breath. “When do I start to panic?”
“Never,” Peter quickly replied, obviously holding back a laugh. “Relax, Magpie. There isn’t anything here to harm you.”
She pressed her lips together. There was something beyond a physical hurt, something that not even she understood. It was a sensation, a feeling. A harrowing thought that something lied around the corner, something she didn’t believe herself to be quite ready for. It was an oddly specific feeling for someone who didn’t even know what might wait ahead of her. They only came for the carved copper eye. What more was there to fear, besides the unknown?
The unknown.
Maggie angled herself to face him. “Do you ever get the feeling that something’s about to happen?”
His breathing deepened. “Something bad, you mean.”
“No, no,” she murmured. “Neither bad nor good. Just…something. Something special, something important.” Maggie watched his expression and felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Sliding deeper into her seat, she sheepishly brushed him off. “N-Nevermind me, Peter. It was an odd thing to say, I know.”
Peter was silent for longer than she expected, letting the shame and embarrassment simmer until it reached a new high. But it wasn’t before long that he was draping an arm around her shoulders, bringing her close, until she could rest her cheekagainst the curve of his shoulder. The comfort washed through her in waves, and suddenly, Maggie believed that whatever was to come, couldn’t have been that bad at all.
At least, not with Peter around.
Maggie let her eyes close and the peace settled in for a moment.
16
“How long are we supposed to wait?” Maggie whispered. Again.
Peter chuckled beside her, his hand gently rubbing her shoulder. The patience the King of Neverland had felt far beyond what Maggie was used to. No matter how many times she asked the same question, no matter how many times she fidgeted, no matter how loud her anxiety obviously was, Peter never dared to share any animosity towards it. He simply listened to every word, acknowledging her thoughts and feelings before delicately trying to comfort her until the anxieties settled down.
“Till Grimsby or someone else comes back,” Peter replied, his voice unbothered. “And it’ll be a piece of cake from there. A trade. Something I have for what we need.”
“I don’t even know about what you’re carrying in that backpack of yours,” she muttered.
He pinched her arm playfully. “Don’t worry about it, Magpie. I’ve got it all figured out.” Peter patted his backpack and grinned. “And it’ll all go well.”
Maggie fell back against her seat, pulling out of Peter’s comforting embrace. Instantly, a deafening cold swallowed her like an unwelcome embrace. She ignored the need to fall backinto him and wrapped her arms over herself instead. The thick confines of her sweater swaddled her well enough.
“How can you be so positive?” Maggie finally asked, the words rushing out of her like an exhale.
Peter smirked. “Gosh, that sounded like you’ve been holding that in a while.”
“Sorry,” she murmured as she fought the embarrassment.
“It’s alright, Magpie.” He hooked a finger around her chin, pulling her eyes back up. “I was only teasing.”
Maggie watched him with pursed lips. “Ever since I met you, you’ve been an optimist,” she explained. “Maybe that’s just who you are but –”
“But?”
“But something tells me that isn’t the case,” she finished. “You couldn’t have always been that way.”
Peter watched her with a steady eye, his smile unwavering. Slowly, as the silence elapsed between them, he let his low laugh fill the small, cozy room. Eventually Maggie found herself giggling alongside him, falling against his arm like there was nothing to whine about in the first place. The smile was still lingering on her lips when he spoke, the seriousness behind his words so unlike him, it was almost frightening.
“Sometimes there needs to be a period of darkness before you’re capable of seeing the light.”
Maggie caught Peter’s eyes. Storm clouds brewed in his irises, a hidden world of untold stories waiting to be released. She wished to fall into him, to spend an eternity learning what it was that made him Peter Pan. And the smirk on his lips told her that it was exactly what he wanted, too. Maggie opened her mouth to speak but there was nothing good to say. What did that sentence even mean? Was he referring to himself? Who reallywasPeter Pan?
