Title- Edge of Freedom

Author- ShawThang

Summary- Wendy begins to grow up and receive the attentions of potential suitors, but her heart only wants to fly.

Rating- PG

Disclaimer- None of the characters belong to me.

Author's Note- This story can be after either the book or the film version, except I pictured it as the film version. It's up to you.

Edge of Freedom

"Ah, Wendy dear, have you meet John Alastair's son yet?"

Wendy fought the urge to roll her eyes and gently shook her head. She allowed Aunt Millicent to propel her through the throng of her father's associates, smiling benignly at those who looked her way. She finally saw who John Alastair's son was, for he was just like his father.

"Good evening, John," Aunt Millicent said, offering a small curtsey. "How do you do?"

"Wonderful evening Millicent, I must say," John replied. He gave a small bow and then looked pointedly at Wendy.

"This is my niece, Wendy Darling."

Wendy was almost looking down on the poor man, and bit her lip in an attempt to stifle her snort of laughter. He squinted through his eye piece, scrutinising her appearance. She didn't think she looked too bad. Her dress was a replica of her mother's pale green gown, albeit a few sizes smaller, and she felt like a proper lady wearing it. Her hair was tucked up in a roll of curls, and they itched something shocking. She was going insane trying to refrain from scratching her head, and the back of her hand was already a light shade of pink from where Aunt Millicent had slapped her hand away on numerous occasions.

John Alastair must have approved of her because he turned to his son and introduced him.

"This is my son, Thomas."

Short, thick-set and slightly lazy eyed, Thomas was not the most appealing young man she'd met. He lifted his head from studying the hors d'oeuvre and grinned at her. She smiled back faintly, trying not to stare at the pastry sticking out from his teeth. Aunt Millicent kicked her ankle and she startled. Glancing over she saw her Aunt in a curtsy, and reluctantly followed her example. She didn't want to bow beneath this horrid excuse for a man. She didn't want to bow to any of these men.

As Thomas returned his attention to his stomach, Wendy sighed and turned away. She was so tired of dressing up to impress these people. They were conceited people, and oblivious to whom she was. They were content to appease their interest in her by her dress and conduct, ignoring the brightness of her mind and vivacity of her imagination. She was tired of preening herself and flitting around the room like an art piece to be admired.

"Wendy." She looked up and saw her mother gliding across the floor towards her, her beautiful blue gown shifting as she walked. Mrs Darling looked elegant and graceful in everything she did, and although Wendy wished she could be like her mother another part reminded her that she never would be. There would always be the desire to run unhindered by skirts, to pick up a weapon and fight... To be free of the conformities that dictate what a lady is expected to do.

Wendy greeted her mother and assured her she was enjoying herself. The corner of Mrs Darling's mouth curled up, and Wendy knew her mother wasn't fooled.

"Your father is counting on this gathering to be a success," Mrs Darling said. "Only a few more hours, Wendy."

Wendy nodded as Mrs Darling floated to her father's side and watched as she was instantly drawn into the conversation. Turning away, she swept past clusters of elderly men and supercilious women and headed for the glass doors that opened onto the balcony. She glanced over her shoulder and, after ensuring herself that she wasn't being observed, slipped through the doors.

The cool air hit her instantly and she shivered, wishing she had brought her shawl outside with her. But there was no use going back to get it; Aunt Millicent would surely see her and insist on introducing her to another horrid boy. No, she would brave the frigid temperatures. Shuffling towards the railing, she reached out to grab it and wrapped her palms around the smooth wood. Wendy leaned over it, gazing at the yard far below and judging the distance. Twenty feet, at the most. The height did not faze her, and she leaned over further. Stepping onto the ledge, she released the bar and held out her arms. She closed her eyes and allowed her head to fall back as the wind whipped her hair back.

With the wind drowning out the chords of the piano and her arms spread wide, Wendy almost felt as if she were flying.

"Oh, uh, sorry. I didn't know anyone was out here."

Wendy jerked at the voice behind her and felt her feet slip from beneath her. Wildly grabbing for the rail, she steadied herself and stared wide-eyed at the ground beneath her. She whirled around and found one of the boys she'd been introduced to earlier watching her with a small grin.

"Did I frighten yer?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "My apologies."

"You didn't frighten me," Wendy replied with indignation. "You merely startled me."

He cocked his head to the side and frowned, as though deciding whether they were the same thing.

"William, yes?"

"How do yer do?" William bowed, still smiling. She lowered her head in return, quickly untangling her hair with her fingers.

"Why are you out here?" William asked, joining her at the balcony railing.

"I just... uh, needed some air," she lied quickly. "It gets awfully hot in there."

"So you're not hiding from your Aunt?" Wendy opened her mouth in surprise, but he continued. "I did see you shoot your Aunt a look of pure annoyance when she commented on how lovely your eyes look this evening."

Wendy glared at him and he laughed, and soon she was giggling. "I didn't think I was that obvious."

"Well if it helps at all, I really feel sorry for you." He grinned and she rolled her eyes, resting her elbows on the railing. "I gather you don't want to be let out into society?"

Wendy lifted her head and looked at the dark, twinkling sky. It looked amazing tonight. Clouds shifted and slowly lumbered across it, stars seemed to dance as though listening to the music that drifted through the windows and the black sky was peppered with shafts of deep blue and dark grey. The wind seemed to call to her, singing and laughing, pulling on her every urge.

She sighed. "No. I don't want to wear gowns and have my hair done. I don't want to curtsy and smile at all the people I don't like. I don't want to be introduced to insolent boys and I don't want to marry. I don't want to pretend."

She waited anxiously for his response. The words had slipped through her lips without the slightest thought or hesitation, and she knew the trouble her lack of refinement could get her into. The frustration she'd been feeling all night had bubbled within her and finally released in a burst of anger. The charade, the condescension, the games, the delicacy... It had all been too much. It had pushed down on her like a cage, like bars that threatened her freedom and future.

Why was she doing this? Could she really give herself over to a stranger? Could she allow herself to be oppressed by a man? Could she give up her freedom... for marriage? Panic suddenly took a hold on her. She was on the edge of being eternally bound to a man... and a man who wouldn't be him.

When was the last time she told Michael and John a story? When was the last time she tied a sash around her waist and put a hat on her head and pretended she was a pirate? When was the last time she let her imagination run free and create adventures that she could pretend to go on? Wendy couldn't remember. It had been so long that she didn't know if she could beat John in a sword fight anymore. So many months had passed- more than a year- since she'd tried to tell a story that she didn't know if she could anymore.

"I guess you and me have something in common then." William stopped to consider his words. "Although my father hasn't introduced me to any 'insolent boys' so much as giggling girls."

Wendy laughed, grateful that she wasn't the only one who didn't want to be tied down for the rest of her life.

"Just ignore them. Forget them." William continued talking but Wendy froze, staring straight ahead.

Forget them, Wendy. Forget them all.

His voice came back to her with startling clarity that she gasped. William looked at her askance, but she didn't notice. All she saw was the messy hair sticking up in all directions; the playful, penetrating eyes when they looked at her; the innocent, carefree glow of laughter; the determination to win and be free. She was suddenly overcome by an ache deep within her chest. It twisted her heart and stole her breath, and she grabbed the railing for support.

Four years had passed since she last saw him. The period of time after she had returned from her adventures Wendy had spent recounting all kinds of tales and stories to her brothers and the Lost boys. She re-enacted them, created plays and gave them an escape from the harsh change of reality. She would speak as a pirate after they returned from school to cheer them up. They would beg her for a story before bed, and she always gave it a happy ending to ensure they had happy dreams. She barely felt the loss he left in her, for she was too enamoured by the memory of her adventures.

But then the initial glow had resided, and it left her dissatisfied and craving more. She had started look out for him, waiting for him to return. But he never did.

"Um, Wendy?"

She broke away from her thoughts and glanced over at William.

"Yes?"

"Are you well?"

"I'm fine. Just a bit faint, that's all."

William nodded but looked uncertain. "As I was saying, I never want to marry-"

"Never is an awfully long time..." Wendy murmured, remembering the encouraging smile she had received in reply all those may yeats ago.

"I suppose it is," William said, unaware of Wendy's wandering thoughts. "I have spent too long out here. My father will be looking for me."

She nodded. "I might stay out a bit longer."

He bowed low in a mocking manner. "Good luck in avoiding marriage, Wendy Darling. Strangely, I believe you will get what you want."

Wendy frowned. "How do you know?"

He grinned. "You don't look the type to stand back and let things happen. You'll fight for it."

He turned and walked back inside, closing the door behind him. Wendy bit her lip. She looked back at the sky, and a star suddenly flashed. Curious, she gazed at the surrounding stars, counting softy under her breath. The wind had died down and was only a gentle breeze. A huddle of clouds suddenly dispersed and the moon appeared, flooding the night with its light. Finally, she inhaled sharply. That star... It was a world of its own.

She recalled the words she spoke all those years ago, beneath the tree in his hideout. She had told John and Michael that they must return before mother and father forgot them. In that small space of time she had been seized by the thought that she would be forgotten; forgotten by her parents, and forgotten by the world. She couldn't handle it, and had panicked. Eventually she had convinced the boys that they must return home, and in turn had convinced herself. But she soon realized after she left him that to be forgotten by him was far worse, and by then it was too late. Her childhood was nearly ending. Already she was on the brink of becoming an adult. She was faltering in the door of a cage. And it was killing her.

"I want to fly," she whispered into the empty night. "But can I leave? Can I let go?"

"If you wish it."

The familiar voice, just a memory, stark and piercing in the quiet. Wendy dared not move. She held her breath, every inch of her skin prickling and every part of her body still. She could feel a presence behind her, and the memorable spark of electricity in the air surrounded her. Her eyes were wide and full of anticipation, but her lips were pursed in a thin line, desperate not to hope for what could not be.

And in the moment she whirled around she saw him. He hovered in the air, both hands on his hips, and Peter smiled down at her. She stared at him, unable to believe that he had returned to her and incapable to understand that he was real and not a dream. He had changed. His hair had darkened, yet still stubbornly refused to lie flat. His skin was browner and the skin around his lips and eyes were crinkled. He was taller than she remembered him. Yet Wendy was caught by the change in his eyes. They were deeper, and understanding. They spoke of experience and happiness and loss. The naive innocence had left them, and he gazed upon her with the same look she saw her father give her mother.

""Peter," she whispered.

"Wendy," he returned with a sly grin.

"You came back... Why?"

He gently sank to the ground. "Because I heard you call for me."

She frowned in confusion. "Call for you? But I didn't..."

"You wanted to fly."

Wendy didn't know what to say. "You've changed."

"Spending too many nights here does that to you."

Her head snapped up. "Here? What do you mean here, Peter?"

"When I came to listen to your stories," he answered. "You didn't think I had forgotten you?"

All of Wendy's fears that she had been forgotten dissipated in that moment and she felt lighter than she had for quite a while. Looking up at him, she felt the courage and determination flowing through her veins once more, and felt that she could do anything. She saw his blade and knew that should she pick up a sword she could wield it. She saw his feet suspended above the ground and knew that she could fly beside him. She watched as his hand slowly reached out to her, and knew that if she grasped it she could be free.

"Come with me, Wendy. Come where you'll never, never have to worry about grown up things again."

She stared at his hand, and then glanced at the glass door behind him where she could see her mother and father dancing. When she glanced back at him he held her eye, and he slowly began to smile. The knot in her chest began to unwind, and her breaths came faster as she saw her future resting in his palm.

"Never is an awfully long time."

But Wendy was smiling as she reached out and grasped his hand. He lifted his other hand and opened it, blowing fairy dust onto her head. They locked eyes as they rose into the air, and she shivered in delight at the expansive sky waiting for her to join it. They ascended above the houses and buildings still holding hands. Peter suddenly stopped and turned to her, a worried expression on his face.

"Peter? What is it?" she asked, worried that he may have changed his mind and didn't want her to come with him.

Peter reached in and pressed his lips gently against hers, and her eyes widened in surprise. He pulled back, still holding her body firmly against his.

"You said that this belonged to me. Is it still mine?"

Wendy smiled in relief. Leaning forward, she kissed him softly. "Always has and always will."

Back in the Darling household Mrs Darling felt a shift in the air and made her way to the window to close it. When she peered into the night, she saw a white light soar across the sky, disappearing in a flash of silver. She stared at it for a moment, wondering what is was. A sense of peace and serenity came over her, and she smiled as she slid the window shut. She remembered a saying Wendy used to say when the stars appeared.

Second to the right and then straight on till morning.

The End

I never thought I would write anything for Peter Pan, but I fell in love with the film. This was my first foray into the Peter Pan universe, so I'd be grateful for any comments and reviews. Later!