Fitz breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was just Fauna standing there, but he did not let down his guard. He lowered his knife, but did not put it away. His brief respite from constantly being on edge had decidedly ended, and now all he could think about was who else might be emerging in the woods. The rain was slowing to a drizzle, and he knew the pirates wouldnât stay hidden forever as the sky began to clear. âYou startled me, Faun,â he said sternly. âWhat are you doing out here? Thereâs a storm going on, you know.â
Fauna gave an apologetic smile, squeezing the mud between her toes where she stood. âIâd have to be dead to not notice the storm,â she commented, shaking water from her hair. âI needed to get out of the home for a little bit; theyâre driving me bonkers.â All they talked about was Peter, and how to get him back, and they all wanted to know exactly what had happened and who had let him get taken. It was too much for her proud little heart. âWhat are you doing out here in the storm?â She asked conversationally.
âDonât go there.â Lake reminded her, thinking of horrible things that could be happening would only make doing what they needed to do harder. She wished she could say more to make her feel better, but it was a difficult time and there werenât any words. She gave Fauna a second to get clear then followed her down, finding a home full of confused looking children watching the other girl, then their attention came to her. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath. âPeterâs been taken.â She said. âBy the pirates. We need full waterskins, spare weapons on everyone to hand off to Peter. I want Stealthy and Noddy sneaking around the port, see if you can spot anything. Everyone else can watch from afar, we cannot be seen.â Lake let out a breath. âIâm going in on foot to see what theyâre saying.â There was a pause, the kids waiting for anything else she had to say, but she felt too overwhelmed by it all. âGet ready. Now.âÂ
Fauna busied herself rooting through the crate of spare daggers and broken guns, slipping a few blades into her belt as the others gasped at Lakeâs words. She felt her ears going red as a few of them just sat or stood frozen. At her last words, the other kids sparked to life, armoring themselves as best they could, grabbing waterskins, pulling on boots with steel toes that had been stolen from the port. Faun glanced to Lake and gave her a quick nod, before slipping into Peterâs private chamber of the house. There was one more thing she wanted to get for this trip; Peter had been given a brass ring with a bear paw carved into it by Tiger Lilyâs father years back. It would be perfect for branding the dirty pirates that had survived the attack on Peter and Faun. Yosef. Suki. Starkey.
âThatâs a good point.â She agreed quickly, it hadnât even occured to her that weapons would be important. It worried her that she might not be up to this task, but she would undertake it anyway âEach group should have extras, just in case. No one should be caught short if theyâre the ones to find Peter.â Lake sped up with Fauna, her longer legs making it easier. âWeâll find him. Theyâre no match.â She reassured once again. âEveryone needs to have full water skins as well, he might need it.âÂ
âAh yes, those filthy pirates probably--â Faunâs eyes stung and she blinked away tears as she thought of what they were doing to Peter. âIâm gonna brand each and every one of them,â she muttered darkly, dropping Lakeâs hand and tumbling into the home, skidding to a halt in front of the table, where she and Peter had left some animal skins sheâd dried at her camp. She tramped over to where a few empty water bags hung, and began gathering a few things, ignoring the few lost boys that were sitting around in the home; they all watched Faun, looking around to each other for some sort of explanation.Â
Her thoughts of how to approach pirates were broken by Faunaâs voice and Lake looked down at her. The new information had her mind racing, but she nodded. âGood. Thatâs good.â She nodded quickly. âThat means we have time. We can get him back. Peterâs clever, heâll be alright until we get there.â She was reassuring them both. She hadnât woken up today expecting to be in charge of a rescue mission. âThe quietest kids should sneak around the port, see if they can spot any big movement.â She told Faun. âIâll go into the port and ask around, they love to talk.â Lake said, doing her best not to sound terrified by the prospect.Â
Fauna nodded in approval; there was Stealthy and Noddy that were most quiet, but she wasnât sure if the latter would be up for much of a mission, as he was silent, but skittish. âYeah, weâll have to get a bag together for Peter too; he doesnât have his weapons,â she told Lake, trying to remember what he might have on his person. How foolish theyâd been, only going out with the tools to gather fruits and veg, pompously believing they wouldnât need much to defend themselves if someone were to come along. In fact, she hadnât even taken into account that someone might have tried and attack them. The home underground in sight now, Faun felt her pace quicken a bit, wanting to get right down to business at the first chance.
She wished she could make things easier for the young girl, wipe away her tears and give her a hug until things didnât feel quite so difficult and scary. But Fauna was a proud child, she wasnât sure that would be appreciated right now. She squeezed her hand once as they walked, and thought of the best way for surveillance. Maybe sheâd have to don Victoria again, and see if any pirates would be happy to share news about Peter.Â
Faunaâs mind wandered; she hoped that Peter wasnât too hurt, and that he was giving the pirates as much hell as she was feeling right then. It had been such a brutal and surprise attack; bad form, as the codfish wouldâve called it. And yet heâd let it happen. Theyâd been instructed not to kill--what was Hook up to? She was brought back to earth when Lake squeezed her hand; Faun looked down at their clutched fingers, and squeezed back, before looking up at Lake. She was so brave and kind. Normally, Fauna felt like she could handle anything on her own, that being little had its own advantages. However she appreciated having someone older beside her just now; not that sheâd ever admit that. âI think theyâve taken him prisoner. They said something about the captain wanting us alive before they took him.â She said quietly, wanting to work out a plan.
Lake nodded, understanding completely that feeling when it all felt so hopeless that flight was impossible. âOkay.â She started off towards the home underground, figuring she could think of a proper plan on the way. If she had a proper plan when she told the other kids what had happened, it might force them into action mode instead of panic and tears. There wasnât time for panic and tears. âAre you okay to walk all this way? I can give you a piggy back if you need.â
Fauna nodded morosely, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. âI can manage,â she said quietly, but then looked up at Lake with tears welling behind her eyes. She slipped her little bruised hand into Lakeâs, walking beside her. She needed something to tether her to earth; they would find Peter. They would save him. And they needed to do it together.Â
Lake nodded somberly at Faunaâs comment. âI know,â She whispered in response, scared of what that meant. All the horrible thoughts of Peterâs whereabouts and what the pirates might be doing to him right that very second, if he wasnât dead already, were screaming at her. It was all she could do not to cry.Â
She looked down at the younger girl and tried to pull herself together, for her sake. Lake was one of the older lost kids, and she ought to be able to stay composed. âCan you fly? Letâs go back and tell the others. Then I think we should do a sneaky surveillance of the port and see if we can hear anything or see anything about where he might be.â Â
Fauna cradled her head between her hands, shaking her head from side to side. Her ears were still ringing from the battle that had taken place, and she felt an overwhelming inability to do anything right. How could she possibly think of a single happy thought when Peter had been stolen from them? âI donât...I donât know, Lake,â she muttered, head pounding. She tried to will herself into the air, but she stayed put like a stump in a bog. âIâll walk,â she said, defeated.
Fitz loved when it stormed in Neverland. He loved sitting high in a tree, watching the rain pour into the ocean, bolts of lightning illuminating the entire island, rolls of thunder shaking the ground. He had never cared much for beauty, and never understood why anyone would when it offered no utility, but he thought Neverland when it rained was stunning. He could watch it for hours, mesmerized and entranced. He also loved being out when everyone else was taking cover, when he felt like the only person alive. There was something so relaxing, so peaceful, about knowing he wouldnât run into anyone. Sure, he loved to fight, and he would never back down from the opportunity, but it was nice to have a break from constantly being on guard. It was nice climbing down from his tree without looking to see whether there was a pirate waiting to kill him. It was nice walking back to the hideout without worrying whether anyone had followed him. It was nice to walk without clutching a knife in his hand. Which is why he was shocked to hear a twig snap behind him as he was walking home, the storm nearly over. He whirled around, drew his knife, and scanned the trees to try to find the figure lurking there. âWhoâs there?â he asked, narrowing his eyes and wishing he had his sword with him.
Fauna sat beneath an oversized hosta plant, watching the rain drip down in rivulets in front of her face. She was absolutely soaked to the bone after having danced in the rain and stomped in muddy puddles after the sky had opened up. When the downpour had eased into a steady, light sprinkle, Faun crawled out from under the plant, flicking a slug off of her shoulder, and headed back towards the home underground. The freeness sheâd felt from dancing in the rain began to slowly ebb away as she remembered that Peter was still missing. Faun quickened her step, a little less carefully than she wouldâve if it hadnât been raining; the pirates rarely wandered the woods in the middle of the storm. She crashed carelessly through bushes, and crunched fallen twigs as she went, wild determination on her little face. She froze when someone spoke, ducking behind a shrub for a moment, peering through the leaves to see Fitz staring around, knife wielded. Fauna sighed and stood, making herself visible.Â
âHi, Fitz,â she called, raising a hand in greeting.
At the calls, Lake stopped her search and rushed back to where sheâd seen Fauna. Upon finding the bodies sheâd felt lost and useless. She didnât know if she could carry Fauna all the way back to the home underground, so sheâd started by looking around. Sheâd inspected the bodies of the pirates, and tried to ignore the horrors that they showed. The pools of blood were dark and sticky, so she assumed it had been a while since it had happened. Sheâd done her best to inspect Fauna and see if she was hurt badly, but she didnât see any deep wounds. Just as terrifying as the sight of the bodies and blood and her lost friend knocked out on the floor, was finding Peterâs dagger in one of the bodies. Peter wouldnât have left this, and she doubted heâd have left Fauna hurt like this unless under exceptional circumstances.Â
âYouâre up,â Lake said, landing on her feet and walking the last few feet towards the younger girl. âBe gentle, give yourself a second.â She knelt down and held out her water skin for Fauna to drink.Â
A short-lived flush of relief came over Fauna at the sight of Lake, but she could feel her limbs trembling as she reached for the water. Sheâd let Peter down; he was gone, maybe even dead, and that was her fault. If only sheâd fought harder, thought smarter, stabbed stronger; this might just be a fun story to tell the lost kids. But he was gone and she felt the weight of both her actions and inaction.Â
âLake, they took him,â she said shakily after a sip of water. It made her want to retch, the way the cool liquid went down so easily. It was delicious and just what she needed, but the stress pulsing through her little body fought its way out. She turned and dry heaved, the water rushing back up. Faun looked frantically back up to Lake. âWhat are we going to do?â
Fauna sat up shakily, head pounding, and blinked slowly. Rubbing the dried tears from her eyes, she winced, realizing sheâd sustained a rather bad bruise under her right one. What had happened? She yawned, but quickly shut her mouth and brought her fingers trembling to her lip. There was a cut there as well, and she traced the crack of dried blood with a frown upon her aching head. Her eyes widened suddenly as the memory flooded back and she scanned the clearing for Peter. A basket of overturned and smashed fruit lay scattered there, accompanied by a native sewn blanket, a few logs toppled over that had been gathered for a fire, and two dead bodies about three feet from her. She scrambled back, disturbing the crow that had been standing menacingly on the pirateâs chest. She looked to the trees, over her shoulder, hopping to her feet as her heart pounded. They had been preparing a campout under the stars for the lost boys when the pirates had attacked. âPeter!â she called out, new tears forming behind her eyes. She recalled the five men that had surrounded them, blades and pistols drawn.Â
âJust grab the boy, capân donât want anyone else,â one of them had growled. âLeave âer alive. Ye have yer orders.âÂ
Peter had had laughed, crowing with glee at the surprise battle, and flew a few feet into the air, battering his fists against his chest before diving into the fight. Fauna had drawn her blade and quickly had begun jabbing at the nearest pirate. They hadnât expected the net. A pirate called Yosef had tossed a clump of weighted netting over Fauna, who fell immediately to the ground, writhing and attempting to hack the ropes away. Sheâd received a kick in side and heard someone laugh. The noise broke off into a strangled gurgle, and Faun looked up to see that Pan had sliced the manâs throat mid laugh. This was no usual battle. It was often almost a game, the way they fought, but this was quite different.Â
âNo! Lower your gun!â The wild voice of Starkey shouted. âHeâs not to be killed we must--â his words were cut off as Peter drove his dagger into the chest of another pirate who had pointed his weapon at the flying boy. âNow, Suki!â Jack shouted, and another net was thrown about Peter. It tangled about him as he struggled to stay in the air, but the remaining three pirates had pulled him to the ground. Panâs blade had remained stuck in the dying pirateâs chest, and he cursed and kicked as the female pirate threw her body over him to keep him on the ground.Â
âPeter, no!â Fauna had yelled, struggling under her own net, arms and feet lost in the ropes, unable to free herself.Â
âKnock him out! We must knock him out!â Starkey had yelled. âBefore any more of them turn up,â he added, for Peter was sounding off his wolf call, a call to battle known well by his boys. Faunaâs eyes widened as the third remaining pirate picked up a rock and smacked it against the side of Peterâs head; her captain went limp from the blow.Â
âNO!â She cried, gripping at the ropes that were loosening from the absence of her captor. âLOST BOYS!â She screamed, wriggling out from the bonds a moment too late. âHELP!â She shouted, getting shakily to her feet and cupping her hands to her mouth. Faunâs ear splitting scream was cut off as a heavily ringed fist connected with the side of her face, and everything had gone black.Â
Her heart banged around in her chest now as she looked around frantically. Had no one come to their aid? How long had she been out? Hours? Days? Where was Peter?
âDonât be so dramatic, Fauna,â he said, rolling his eyes. âYou can help if itâs really that important to you, though I donât know why it would be.â However little it mattered, he didnât want to get on her bad side, much preferring to have allies than enemies, especially among the lost kids. He had to remind himself to remember the othersâ feelings, even if he thought it pointless, if only to keep them, and Peter, on his side. Carrying the deer behind him, he caught up to her and walked alongside her to the hideout.Â
Faun scowled at him and huffed, wanting to yell at him, but not wanting to prove his point that she was being dramatic. âItâs not important,â she replied primly, fighting the urge to pick up the pace when he caught up to her. âWhatâre you going to do with the pelt?â She asked, wondering if he had a use for it already, or if sheâd be able to fashion it into a sort of door for Peterâs room. His curtains were tattered and old, and she was tired of hearing him cry in his sleep after sheâd woken up from her own nightmares.Â
âGood,â he said with a nod, though he was even more envious of her day when he learned more about her escapades. He frowned when she said she had lost the eye, though. âNow thatâs just a shame. You should really take better care of your trophies, especially one so hard-earned.â Unlike Fauna, Fitzâs objective in fighting was never jewels or any real gain; the only tangibles he cared about was that which showed his triumph. Fingers, skins, and scalps were worth millions of gems to him, and he treated them like treasure, keeping a small collection; he didnât have an eye, though, which only made his disappointment and envy stronger. âOtherwise, whatâs the point of taking it in the first place?â
âThatâs not a great accomplishment, though. Anything tastes better,â he remarked before picking the deer back up. Quirking an eyebrow when she asked if he wanted help, he looked her up and down. âThatâs nice, but you wonât really be much help. Besides, Iâve carried it this far, and you have your spoils to take care of.â
Fauna nodded solemnly; she was only too aware of the disappointment in losing the eye, and felt a slight flash of shame at Fitzâs reassurance that it was a silly loss. The comment that she wouldnât be much help was too much for her proud little heart, and she puffed out her chest, planting her hands on her hips and scowled up at the lost boy.Â
âFine, do it yourself then,â she spat out, and then rolled her eyes, crossing her hands over her chest and starting away towards the hideout. Fitz was strong enough to handle the deer on his own, but surely four hands were better than two. She bolstered herself internally, telling herself that Peter would be happy with the jewels. She couldnât remember quite where it was, but there was a time when Peter had a treasure room on the island, which they filled with stolen pirate treasures and would sit among it playing kings and robbers. It was all they could think of that a rich man might do with so much gold.Â
âThank you. I could say the same to you. No wonder the dwarves gave you a hard time, youâve robbed them blind,â he noted, looking down at the bag of gems threatening to overflow or split. While he wasnât particularly in a fighting mood, he was never one to pass on the opportunity, and he almost wished he had joined her if it meant he could get away with picking a fight. Pirates were fun, but they were dangerous; he could always count on beating the dwarves, though.
âYeah, I was hunting anyway and thought it might be nice to pull my weight a little. And unlike dwarves, deer donât fight back,â he said, though he wished they would a little, just to make it more interesting. âWill you be back tonight to join us?â
Fauna nodded and gave a beaming grin. âYes, literally robbed them blind! I plucked an eyeball out of one of the men before they called it off,â she said, and then shook her head soberly. âI dropped it on my walk somewhere though,â Faun muttered in annoyance. She amused herself for a moment, wondering if the deer weighed as much as Fitz, because then he would have actually been pulling his weight around.Â
âYeah, and deers taste better anyhow,â she laughed, and nodded at his question. âYeah, I should swing by and bring these to Peter,â she commented, tapping the bag again. âWant help carrying that?â Fauna asked, tipping her chin forward to point at the beast.Â
It never ceased to amaze Fitz how different the sensations of killing could be, depending on the victim. He felt powerful when killing pirates, pleased when killing innocents, and nothing when killing animals for food. Though he tried not to kill innocents or animals for fun anymore, hunting for food simply couldnât compare. Shooting arrows was nothing like feeling the life beneath him tremble against the sharp blade of a knife; seeing the animal fall was nothing like feeling the life leave its body. Still, there was a purpose to it, he knew, as he lugged a deer back to the Home Underground, and the purpose was making sure the Lost Boys would eat that night.Â
As he dragged the deer behind him by the antlers, he saw a familiar face heading in the opposite direction. âFauna? Where are you off to?â he asked as she grew closer, taking the moment to rest and drop the deer. Seeing the blood on her face, his forehead creased in worry. âWhat happened to you?â
Faun looked up when she spotted Fitz and gave a little finger wave in greeting. She glanced at the deer heâd been dragging, and her grin broadened. âNice haul!â She chirped, swiping at her nose again, leaving a trail of mixed blood and mud across her face. âI was up in the mountains,â she explained, and patted her bulging bag of gems. âPaid the dwarves a visit,â she beamed, closing some of the distance between them.Â
She eyed the deer, tilting her head slightly, and then looked up at him. âIs that for later?â Fauna asked with a slight hint of longing in her tone. Sheâd been meaning to go on a hunt, having had her fill of enough fruit and veg to last a long time.Â
Nose sunkissed and skin speckled with mud, Fauna traipsed down the scraggy mountain peak, crashing a new path through the underbrush. Sheâd been off on another solo adventure, and was thinking of how sheâd explain to Peter about the sack full of diamonds she carried in her belt bag. It jangled heavily, bumping against her thigh, and she swiped a drop of blood from her nose with the back of her hand. Dwarves, she had decided, would be the simplest of explanations. They were somber creatures, generally keeping to themselves. But get near their mountain jewels, and theyâd make you wish youâd stayed at sea level. It might have very well been Faunaâs last adventure on Neverland, had she not kept her wits about her. Thinking back to the encounter, her memory was a bit fuzzy, carving out the parts that had frightened her, highlighting the fact that she mustâve just been brave enough to escape them. In truth, sheâd made a deal with them after a long fight, but the further away from the bearded men she got, the less she remembered.Â
Faun braced herself as she reached a muddy stretch and slipped down, her bare feet gliding through the muck, kicking it up as she slid, coating her shins and calves with the black mud. She took to the air at the last second and landed gently on the soft, forest floor. The lost girl was only about a mile away from her little camp, but was heading in the wrong direction, aimless as ever.
⢠Fauna ⢠Lost Boy ⢠Age Unknown ⢠Laneya Grace â˘
Sprinkled me in pixie dust and told me to believe, believe in him and believe in meâŚ
When Peter found Fauna, he instantly saw that she shared a similar soul. He took her to Neverland and dubbed her the first Lost Kid, and for quite a long time, they shared endless adventures on the island, knocking about like two bulls in a china shop. Her old life melted away, just as Peter had promised, âcome away to a place far from the land of parents, and silly rules, and where youâll never have to say sorry!â Many know her on the island and on the sea; merfolk found her humorous and enjoyed her company, pirates felt she was nearly as annoying as Pan, and the fairies were good friends. Though she is small, and might have an innocent face, she is a contender for killing the most pirates out of all the Lost Boys. Sheâs extremely loyal to Peter, and is always looking for another adventure. Faun was on an adventure in the Black Forest when Wendy and her brothers had arrived, and missed out on that adventure; sheâs still a bit miffed about that, so best not to bring it up.
âOh no,â she shook her head at the question of her making up the story about Cinderella. âShe lived a long time ago, in a kingdom next to the one I was from.â Wendy offered with a smile, she was always a firm believer that stories were history time forgot. âTheyâre not my stories, I just share them.âÂ
Fauna nodded in understanding, thinking of how Peter used to come back home with stories of far off kingdoms and lands. This lady reminded her of him, the way she was able to tell the story as though sheâd actually been there for every moment. It was its own kind of magic. âThat was a good story,â she said with a sigh, leaning back on her palms as she looked up at the woman. âIâm Fauna,â she said in greeting, not caring that sheâd done the whole âmeeting someone newâ backwards. âWhatâs your name?â
