“If you agree to marry me,” he began in a quiet voice, “does this mean you’re staying in Neverland?”
Maggie struggled to find the right words. “All my life, I have learned that the only way to succeed is on your own. There were never any handouts for me, no relatives to turn back to. As far as I was concerned, the only person looking out for me was, well,me.”
He listened intently, his eyes wide and full of hope.
“Neverland has done more than prove me wrong,” Maggie said. “I’ll stay, Peter Pan, if you’ll have me.”
Peter’s shoulders fell in a way she had never seen before. He shot forward as though he couldn’t stand on his own two feet, hooking his arms beneath her own and trapping her in a tight embrace. She breathed him in as much as she could, realizing that the warmth he gave her would not be going away anytime soon. There was no need to rush, to take as much as she could with greedy hands. The King of Neverland was hers, and Maggie Hart belonged to him.
Maggie drew away as they walked hand-in-hand to the Everything Plants. The small space in the center where the statue once stood had a slight imprint on it, giving Maggie the perfect guide to placing it back where it belonged. Nothing spectacular happened the moment it rested on the ground, but Maggie wasn’t entirely sure what she was expecting. She hoped that the Everything Plant would return to normal, to be fixed after all that time, but it was hardly on the forefront of her mind. Peter’s hand grew tighter in her own, giving her a slight squeeze as they began to walk in the opposite direction.
For so long, she thought that fixing the Everything Plant also meant her return to the human lands. The burden rested on her chest so heavily, but Maggie had hardly recognized it, for it had been there all along. It only took the King of Neverland, Peter Pan, to step into her life to lift it off her frame, to carry her anxieties on his own shoulders, to show her that the world did not need to be conquered on her own. Maggie allowed Peter to pull her closer to his side, to wrap his arm around her shoulders and press a fleeting kiss to the top of her head.
And her smile was the broadest she had ever conjured.
16
Maggie
Maggie’s bedroom hummed with quiet music. Twitch fashioned her an old radio a few days after their trade with the pirates. He collected all the pieces before building the thing himself, making sure to include an inscription on the bottom with her initials. It was a generous memento, one that he effortlessly brushed off as something just to ‘pass the time.’ Nevertheless, Maggie graciously accepted the present and used it at all hours of the day. A long antenna caught the stations from the human lands, and a port specifically for CDs allowed her to revisit some old times that were once long forgotten.
The music pulled a sway out of her as she crossed the bedroom, the treehouse’s natural glow making the floor and walls look like freshly hardened amber. She had just about gotten ready for bed, with a loose nightdress hanging down her shoulders and reaching just above her knees. Sunny groomed himself on his tower, one that was positioned directly in front of the wide window. Both of them were settling for the evening, practicing their nightly rituals, when something caught Maggie’s eye.
Still obscured by her jewelry box was the potion Hazel gave her. Maggie paused in front of her dresser, a round mirror standing on top of it. Her reflection was tense and nervous, her thick brow pulled together in an anxious knot. Everything with the statues had led her to almost forget about the potion. She had hidden it away with the intent of finding it when the moment was right, but she still struggled with the latter. How was Maggie supposed to know when the right moment was, in fact, therightmoment? As far as she was concerned, she could’ve downed the thing back when it was first given to her.
But that was someone else’s truth, wasn’t it? Maggie Hart was not a creature of confidence or bravado. She was much like Sunny and his feline partners. It took time to see her unravel, to let her know that there was someone she could be dependent on. The memories she carried now were all she had, and it was easier that way. The potion threatened to unlock something that had been long kept buried, something that Maggie might live to regret later on. She knew that was why Hazel had emphasized on when she should take it, but somehow, that only made her want it even more, no matter the circumstances. Ready or not, Maggie was slowly regaining control over her life, and no longer wished for invisible things like fate to weave her own future.
Maggie reached for the bottle, her hands shaking as they grazed the long and slender spout. “Oh, stop it,” she muttered to herself before stepping away from the potion. She retreated to Sunny’s lounging area, dragging her fingertips along the top of his head in the way he preferred. “Why can’t I get a hold of myself?”
The feline’s head rolled up, his eyes slowly opening and closing. Sunny didn’t care about anything that wasn’t the feeling of being petted. Maggie let her mind wander as she loved on the cat, though nothing stopped her attention from drifting back to the potion. Eventually, as Sunny’s purrs grew louder and louder,Maggie turned back to her dresser and retrieved the bottle. The liquid sloshed as she tapped the cork, her hand barely paying attention to Sunny anymore.
The cat let out an annoyed huff before standing tall and stretching his spine. Without waiting for her attention anymore, Sunny pushed open the wide window, and proceeded to walk along the winding branches of the treehouse. Most days he took off from her window, taking his own scenic route to the ground below, before spending his time shamelessly chasing fairies he never had a chance of catching. And as he disappeared into the twilight, Maggie sighed and lifted the potion to her eyes.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Maggie strode across the room and opened the door to see Peter standing on the other side. “Peter,” she said. “Is something the matter? It’s awfully late.”
“Oh, I know,” Peter murmured, his cheeks growing pink. “There’s nothing wrong, Magpie. I only wanted to see you.”
She stepped aside bashfully and gestured for him to enter the room. Maggie watched as he walked around her bed, his eye holding onto the potion she still clutched against her chest.
“Were you going to take it?” he asked.
Maggie eyed it and slowly nodded, before subsequently shaking her head. “Honestly,” she breathed before sitting at the foot of the bed, “I have no idea. I thought about it, and IthinkI want to, but…but…”
“What is it, Magpie?” Peter took a seat beside her.
“Hazel said I should only drink it when I’m ready. That the memory it unlocks might be one that I’m not capable of seeing, that I’m not capable of understanding.” Maggie held the bottle up so that the light caught on the liquid. “This memory can change everything that I already know. How can I ever be ready for something like that?”
Peter sighed as he considered her for a moment. “Sometimes,” he whispered, “we just aren’t quite ready for things that are destined to shake up our life, but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Change, however frightening it may be, is the one thing that keeps the earth spinning. You know that, Maggie Hart. I think you always have. Fear is the only thing stopping you from drinking that potion.”
She looked down at the potion another time. Fear kept her back from plenty of things. It made her run through the human lands in search of a home that might one day accept her. It taught her to always be looking over her shoulder, to take everything for granted, to never trust a stranger with handsome eyes and kind words. Change, like Peter, was the only thing strong enough to combat her rising fears. No matter what she discovered by taking the potion, Maggie would finally know where it was she came from. She would know the family she might've once belonged to.
Maggie faced Peter. “I think I’m ready, Peter,” she said. “And I would be even more ready if you could stay here with me.”
“You don’t even have to ask, Maggie.”
With Peter’s reassuring presence beside her, Maggie uncorked the top of the potion and let the contents flow between her lips. Once the bottle was empty and taken out of her hands, Maggie lowered herself onto her bed, and laid against the pillows, already feeling the magic take over her subconscious. And as Peter took a seat beside her, the feeling of his hand resting over her own lingering in her mind, Maggie drifted into a dark memory.
