And as she peered into the contents of the potion, Maggie thought her answers might’ve once lay within it. She quickly stowed the potion away, watching as the Lost Boys and their King kept their eye on it the entire time. A smile crossed her face as she stepped forward, hooking one arm around Peter’s.
“I will,” she finally said.
Peter raised a brow. “Why not now?”
“Well good things come to those who wait, doesn’t it?”
His hearty laugh filled the air. “Sure. I guess you’re right. Now,” he looked down at their intertwined arms, “where are you taking me?”
Maggie raised a brow. “Weneed to talk.”
The Lost Boys let out whooping sounds and low whistles as Maggie slowly steered Peter away from prying eyes and listening ears.
3
Maggie
Peter might not have been a child, but he surely dug his heels stubbornly into the ground like one. Their hands were tightly intertwined as Maggie led the way to the Everything Plants. For the longest time it had always been Peter guiding her, showing her the path forward, leading the way through Neverland’s expansive island. But Maggie felt as though the island was as woven into her veins as the human lands were, though she still wasn’t entirely sure what that meant.
Maggie was acutely aware of Peter’s distaste in going to the Everything Plants. Even before she had a chance to mention why they were there in the first place, Peter acted as though he would’ve rather stayed in the treehouse all day. But Maggie went forth all the same, her determination a quality she had no plans of being without.
The rows of plants came upon them in no time. Water steadily flowed through them from the mermaid’s cove, and light from fairy huts twinkled inside their leaves. Everything that Maggie believed to have been disrupting the plant’s way of living had been cured. All that was left was to uncover the missing artifact, a precious item that had called the Everything Plants itshome for quite some time. Within the rows of plants, shrouded by their long leaves and shaded from the sun, was a circular divot in the sandy ground. There was an impression left in the sand, still showing the faint shape of whatever symbol had been carved into the foot of the missing treasure.
Maggie’s hand left Peter’s as she approached it, crouching down to get a better look. When she straightened up again, the King of Neverland pouted and avoided meeting her gaze as much as he could.
She laughed, unable to take his upsets seriously. “Peter Pan,” she huffed, finally catching his attention. “You know we have to talk to the pirates eventually, don’t you?”
Peter’s shoulders deflated and he kicked the sand as he walked up to her. “I know, I know,” he murmured.
“Really?” Maggie teased.
He remained reluctant to joke, the frown only deepening across his handsome face.Jeez, Maggie,she thought to herself.How can you think someone’s pretty even when sad?But it wasn’t hard at all. Peter Pan was the image of perfection in Maggie’s eyes. Even when despair clouded him, the beauty remained. She breathed a sigh and closed the distance between them, her arms snaking around his waist as though she had been doing it all her life.
Peter never once jolted away as she pressed her cheek to the center of his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His hands only found her back, rubbing along her spine until their breathing quickly matched each other.
“What’s wrong, Peter?” she spoke against his clothes. He smelt strongly of cedar, of freshly carved wood. “You have been clouded for days. I can tell. If it’s the pirates, we –”
“Of course it’s the pirates, Maggie,” he replied.
Maggie pulled her head back to peer up at him. Shadows danced across his face. “What about them then?”
His hands slid from her back, suddenly grasping at her biceps. The touch wasn’t harsh at all, or harmful. But there was a possessiveness about it, a surety Maggie wasn’t quite familiar with. Never before did she consider herself tobelongto anyone, whatever that word really meant. But in that moment, a voice, strong and confident, spoke firmly in the back of her mind, with words she would not readily forget.
You have always belonged to Peter Pan, haven’t you?
Maggie brushed it away. “You can tell me, Peter.”
“I know, Magpie.” Peter pinched her button chin, his eyes crinkling with a loving smile. “And that’s just the thing, isn’t it? I should tell the person it has to do with, shouldn’t I?”
Fear strung through Maggie’s heart. Perhaps she spoke too soon. What could be plaguing him so much that had to do with her? “W-Well,” she stammered, “Peter, I-I –”
“The pirates are dangerous,” Peter interjected. He watched her confidently, with the regal air of the King he was. “After seeing you on Hook’s ship, trapped in his arms…I…” He drifted as he looked away, his grip tightening.
“Peter –”
He looked back, suddenly and intently. “I’m not putting you in harm’s way again,” Peter stated. “Besides, don’t we have other things to focus on?”
Maggie blinked, her heart caught in a whirlwind. “Other things?”
