Chapter 11 #2
Maggie kept her face angled away from him as she took his hand.
He swooped down to lift her off her feet, the feeling still too surprising for her to simply ignore.
Even though he had done it multiple times before, Maggie’s heart still managed to skip a few beats, even after he held her close to his chest and shot through the air.
A few minutes into a quiet flight, Peter’s voice carried along the gentle breeze with a musical tone to it. “You never fail to amaze me, Maggie Hart.”
“What?” Her head jerked up, hands instinctively tightening around his shoulders.
Peter’s smile grew. “I’ve met my fair share of humans, you know,” he suddenly said, staring at the island ahead. “They all ranged, of course, but they all had one thing in common. Not one was very smart.”
Maggie’s laugh blurted out.
“That is,” he continued, his voice quieter, “until I came across you.”
She was no longer laughing, but simply staring, caught in a trance put on her by the King of Neverland. “Peter,” she whispered, so light and airy that he did not even hear it.
“And don’t even get me started on your cooking,” he teased with a short laugh. “I’ll never forget that stew from the inn. Or those pancakes!” Peter shook his head. “It’s spectacular, I’ll tell you that. And…and…” His voice trailed off as he watched her face.
“Hey, Magpie,” Peter murmured. “What’s the matter?”
Maggie hadn’t even noticed how crestfallen she became.
It was still so unusual to hear such a range of compliments come from someone who was still practically a stranger.
Not one bit of her was used to it. Not only that, but they were flying.
Magic remained to be the great scar across her life, the bit that haunted her from town to town, that forced her to flee places she loved and forced friends to turn away.
But then, suddenly in Neverland, there was nothing against magic.
In fact, it fueled the entire island. Creatures were born from it and it was celebrated as much as life itself.
Not one bit of her was used to it, and it never failed to rattle her still.
“Nothing,” Maggie finally replied with a hoarse edge to her words. “It’s just strange, is all.”
“What is?”
“To be praised in such a way,” she admitted. “To have magic be so out in the open.” Her eyes flicked back to him, highly aware at how intently he was listening to her speak. “To be needed.”
Peter’s expression softened. “There isn’t any need to hide magic in Neverland, Maggie,” he murmured sincerely. “Here, you’re free to be whoever you are. There’s nothing against that.”
Rendered speechless, Maggie simply turned to look over the island, imagining what it would be like to live in such a place.
“Magpie,” Peter asked in a testing voice, “there is something I wonder.”
“Hm?”
He hesitated for a moment, a quiet silence spreading between them before his loud gulp came to fill the gap. “Would you happen to know which of your parents are magical?”
“I wish I knew,” Maggie replied with a small smile.
“I-I’m an orphan. There’s not a thing I remember about my parents, and the orphanage kept no useful information if I wanted to find anything out.
” Turning away, Maggie fiddled with the hem of her sundress, embarrassed by the revelation but all too relieved to finally talk about the things she was forced to keep hidden.
“Things kept happening,” she continued, “things that no one else could do, things that only I could do. When I realized it all strung back to me, I knew it needed to be kept a secret.”
“Why?” Peter murmured.
“Standing out is far too dangerous in the human world to risk it,” she said. “Even if it wasn’t magic, it needed to be shut down. So, I kept to myself and never told a soul. Baking and cooking helped in keeping the secrets, but also in practicing the magic.”
Peter watched her silently for a few moments. “That’s quite the life you’ve had, Magpie,” he finally said. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she quickly said, uncomfortable by the pity.
“You know that all the Lost Boys are orphans, right?”
Maggie’s head snapped back up. “What?”
“We all are,” he murmured. “All of us remember getting lost one day as children, and somehow finding Neverland. It’s meant for those who are lost, who need a place, who can’t fit in elsewhere. You know that, don’t you?”
Something about Peter’s words pulled a shiver down her spine. Maggie pressed herself closer against him inherently, seeking the warmth that radiated out of his chest. They drew closer to the southern half of the island, where the fairies liked to reside, but Maggie could hardly pay attention to it.
Peter’s words drove a sort of happiness through her, as if she was one of the Lost Boys who stumbled upon it in her time of need.
And she was a bit lost, wasn’t she? Where was she to go, after Dunhollow?
After having everything she wanted in the palm of her hand.
Her eyes found Peter once more, but he was looking out ahead, preparing to lower them back to the ground.
The connection she felt to Peter was unmistakable, but how could it last?
Neverland was temporary. The King of Neverland was temporary. Soon she’d be back to the human world with enough gold to start over somewhere entirely new, to hide her magic another time.
Soon.