Luca turned fitfully in Moira's arms, startling her into alertness. She rubbed a tired hand across her eyes and yawned, feeling every bone in her body creak and cut into the branch below her. She couldn't even remember falling asleep.

Admittedly, spending the whole night in a tree wasn't the most comfortable, but it was a whole lot better than the alternative they faced. The wolves-that-weren't-wolves were gone—long gone—but Moira refused to budge until the noise of the forest returned.

Luca mumbled in his sleep, pushing out against her as he tried to roll over again. His brow was furled and she was sure that his scowl was not only meant for his dreams. She smiled softly and ran her fingers through his hair, the other hand rubbing calming circles on his back as she gazed out over the forest. The woodland below was quiet and still, obscured by the cool dark that inhabits the pre-dawn world. Sunrise was still far off.

Moira shifted uncomfortably, shivering as the cold morning air nipped at her exposed skin. She tucked the blanket tighter around Luca and waited.

And waited.

Her head was nodding when the first warm light of dawn worked its way into the forest. It was time to go.

"Luca," Moira said softly, shifting her sleeping brother into a sitting position on her lap. "Luca, it's time to wake up."

Luca opened a bleary eye, his face totally relaxed before it dissolved into a scrunched mass of tears and tantrum. "Noooo," he moaned, kicking out against her as he flailed limply, too tired to even throw a fit. "NO!" He kicked out at her with a surge of energy that caught Moira off guard and sent them both teetering on the branch.

"Luca," Moira snapped, pulling him up to face her. "We don't kick. You could have made both of us fall."

Again.

They could have fallen again. Moira felt sick at the thought and shook Luca by the shoulders a little harder than she intended to. "Are you listening to me? Luca, we could have gotten hurt."

"I don't tare!" Luca said, pushing his face into her shoulder and away from the morning light.

It felt like she had been doused with cold water. "You don't care," Moira snorted tersely, her own tiredness making it hard to jolly her brother along. She took a deep breath and tried to relax. "Luca, I know you're tried, but we need to go," Moira said softly, patting his back a little harder than necessary. Luca remained buried in her collar and she searched for a way to get him moving. "We don't want to run into any Indians, do we?" she asked, grasping at straws.

"No," Luca said into her collar. Whether it was an answer to her question or a resounding "no" to anything and everything, Moira was not quite sure, but she pressed on.

"Luca, you need to be a big boy. Can you do that for me?"

Luca let out a huff of air before pulling away and dragging a sleeve across his eyes. That was all the answer she was going to get, but she'd take it. He was overtired and Moira felt guilty, but he would be able to sleep once they were in a safer place.

"That's my boy." Moira turned from her perch on the branch and reached out to their pack that hung just above them. "You'll be able to sleep when we get on the road. I just need you to be awake for now and then you can sleep." Moira pulled out the last of their dried apples and two thick slices of waybread. She divided up the food, setting the larger portion in her brother's lap. She took bites between fastening straps and packing their blanket, not paying much attention to her food, but paying very much attention to how little they had left.

After their things were packed away and ready to go, Moira looked down at her brother who was finishing off the last of his breakfast, chewing sleepily on an apple slice, blissfully unaware of how low on food they were running.

They had to get out of this forest.

Moira glanced down, not trusting the world below as she inspected the forest floor for danger. Nothing. She saw nothing, but that didn't mean it was safe.

"Luca," Moira said, clearing her throat as it tightened around the choice she had to make. "Luca, I need you to stay here, alright?"

He twisted around to look at her. "Where you doeing?"

"I need to climb down and see if the Indians are gone."

"Ohtay."

"You stay right there. Don't move from that spot. Not even a little. I want you to put both hands on this branch and when they touch, they'll stay stuck there."

"Da," he said, not really seeing what the big deal was. He wrapped his legs around the branch and grabbed on, making a squishing sound as his hands "magically" stayed stuck.

"I love you, Luca," Moira said softly, kissing him on the top of his head before she threw her leg over the side of the limb and began to lower herself down to the next one.

"I yuve you, ma," Luca called after her, twisting so that he could watch her climb down.

Her stomach clenched painfully, but Moira left Luca in the tree as she crawled down to the forest floor to make sure that they were indeed safe. Hand over hand, she climbed down, looking up every few feet to make sure that Luca was exactly where she left him. Luca, though tired and cranky, stayed glued to the spot and, bless him, stayed perfectly silent as Moira descended.

Moira tried to focus, but her mind was on everything that could go wrong. The wolves could be waiting down there for her. She could fall and die, or worse, Luca could fall. Her chest tightened painfully, making it hard to breathe. If something happened to her, what would happen to Luca? It was a question that plagued her almost every day since they emerged from Roshock Bog. He'd be alone, defenseless in the wilderness. He'd be afraid and lost. But worse, he would never know. He'd never know what he was or where he came from. He'd never know their family, their mother and father or what they were like. It almost hurt to think of all the things that he would never experience. And Luca deserved to know. He deserved a proper family and childhood and—her heart sunk—she was a poor substitute.

Ma. That's what Luca called her, but was it because he no longer remembered their mother? Since they had lived in the small house under the hill, Moira had allowed, encouraged even, the people of Bree to think that Luca was her and Andy's son. Had Luca begun believing the lie too? Had she ever contradicted it in front of him? No. She knew she hadn't. How could Luca forget his mother, after all? And she couldn't risk Luca contradicting their story, so she let him believe the lie. Just like Wendy, she had decided to set up and play house, watching as her sibling forgot their parents.

"Michael, who is your mother?"

"You are my mother, Wendy."

But it was all a lie.

Even before the accident, Luca had called her "Ma", but had that meaning changed? Even now, she could still picture her mother, tall and lean with golden hair that put the sun to shame. Moira chuckled. God, how she'd been so jealous when Luca was born with hair like spun gold. And so her fifteen-year-old self went and tried to dye her hair blonde too. It came out green. Fitting, but the irony was lost on her at the time. It took months to change back, but her hair had eventually returned to the chestnut brown of her father.

Her father.

Dad.

It didn't hurt as much anymore to think about him, but he was always there. Hovering just underneath her skin when she looked in a mirror or cut her hair. She was her father's daughter just as Luca was their mother's son.

"Her son, not mine," Moira murmured, reminding herself as much as stating fact. She'd shown Luca the pictures that she had and even caught him looking at them on his own, but it didn't feel like enough. Those pictures were all they had left of their family. But it would never be enough.

Sometimes she'd caught herself wondering if Luca actually remembered them or if he could point to the pictures and say "mom" and "dad" because she had told him who they were. He had certainly remembered them when they were wandering Roshock Bog, crying out for them until exhaustion overwhelmed him, but now? Now he only had her.

It just wasn't fair.

Her stomach clenched as she stepped down and found no branch beneath her, leaving her hanging maybe ten feet above the ground. The bark cut into her hands as she swung wildly in the air.

"Ma?!" Luca called down, sounding panicked.

Moira fought the fear lodged in her throat. She was more afraid of Luca trying to get to her than of falling. "Don't move, Luca!" she called up to him. "I'm fine. Just slipped. I'm almost there." Her foot caught the edge of a branch and she used it to steady herself, lowering herself down onto it before descending down to the forest floor.

The woods were blessedly clear and she could still see the road from where she stood. Now all she had to do was climb back up and carry Luca and their pack down. Moira turned to start climbing, but froze and she saw the base of the tree. All around it were paw prints in the dust, almost twice as big as her own footprints. Definitely not wolves, then. She paused long enough to brush away the tracks before tackling the tree once more, arriving at the top out of breath and drained.

It was going to be a very long day.

The sun was high in the sky by the time they were finally on their way along the road. Luca, both eyes on the forest and one hand on Moira's skirt, hadn't said anything for almost an hour, but Moira could tell that he was tired. Beyond tired, but he kept marching along, stumbling every once in a while until he finally gave up and sank to the ground, rubbing his eyes furiously.

"Please, Luca, we need to keep moving," Moira said gently, kneeling just in front of him so that he shadow blocked out the worst of the sun shining into his eyes. His lip trembled and that was the end of that. It hurt, god it felt like her arms were going to disintegrate, but she hoisted him up onto her hip and began walking down the road, now at an even more crippled speed.

With a day of walking ahead of her and no end to the forest in sight, Moira wished that they had never left the safety of Bree. But it was too late to turn back. Much too late, she sighed, feeling her stomach twist painfully. Go backwards? They wouldn't stand a chance. Their food would not take them further than back to the entrance of the Trollshaws and the last farm they had seen was a full five days walk further along the road. Stay here? Impossible. The only way was to keep moving forwards.

Her mind felt numb as she focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Left. Right. Left. Right. On and on until her legs felt like lead. She had no idea how far they had gone. At this point, all she knew was that she was bone tired, but something kept her moving.

"Luca?" She cleared her throat, aching to stop. She wasn't sure if he was even awake. "Luca, I need to stop for a bit." Moira staggered to the side of the road, feeling her muscles ache and seize as she bent over to put Luca down.

He scrambled out onto the grass, obviously refreshed from his nap. Moira lowered herself to the ground, moaning as the weight of the pack lifted off of her shoulders. It was heavenly. Her muscles ached as she pulled the straps from her shoulders, but quieted as cool spring grass soothed her hot, feverish skin. She had almost drifted into a weary sleep when she heard the telltale clinking of buckles being undone.

"Luca, what are you doing?" she asked groggily, turning her head to try to see him.

"No! Don't peat."

"Don't peak?" she replied stupidly, twisting around to try to see him. "What are you up to?"

Her muscles clenched as a weight dropped onto her stomach. Luca was sitting on her, the waterskin clutched in his hands. He fumbled with the stopper, finally putting his teeth to the test, yanking the cork from the top. He spit it out carelessly, thrusting the water towards her.

"No, you go ahead," Moira said wearily, knowing that there wouldn't be enough water to see them to the end of the forest unless she began rationing it.

"No," Luca said stubbornly. "You fiwst."

"Alright," Moira sighed, "but just to make sure that it's not poison." The water felt like heaven gliding over her tongue and down her swollen throat. It almost physically hurt to stop herself, but she pulled away and offered it to her brother. "Nope, not poison," she reported as cheerily as she could. "Your turn." The water was carefully passed to her brother who insisted that he could hold it himself. She watched anxiously as Luca took large mouthfuls, some of the water dribbling down his chin, but she didn't have the heart to stop him. She didn't want him to know that their food and now water was almost gone. She didn't want him to worry. That was her job.

"Alright," Moira sighed, pushing the stopper back into place, "that was a nice rest. Time to keep going." The forced cheerfulness felt like sawdust in her mouth, but she stood up anyways and slung the pack back over her shoulder. The steady ache that accompanied it just reminded her of how much further they actually had to go, but she couldn't dwell too long on that. That matter had already been settled. And so she turned her mind to what was good. Luca was safe, the pre-dusk that accompanied sunset was just warm enough to be comfortable, the day had been beautiful, and above all else, she and Luca were together.

And that was what mattered.

Luca reached up for her hand and she smiled down at him, taking his much smaller hand in hers as they stepped back onto the road.

"Luca?" She asked. His large eyes swung up to her face. "Do you," she took a deep breath, "Do you remember…" But she couldn't say it. She couldn't ask it. Four simple words and she couldn't bring herself to ask them for fear that his answer would confirm everything she had been fighting against.

Do you remember home?

He was watching her, waiting for the question. She forced a small smile. "Do you remember where I stopped the story? I can't even remember if they had met Peter yet."

His eyes lit up and he dropped her hand so that he could use both hands to gesture wildly to act out what had happened in the story the last time she had told it. She watched him amusedly, laughing as he ran ahead of her so that he could drop onto all fours to show her how Nana, the nurse dog, walked.

"And den, and den, dey fownd da shadow," he concluded triumphantly, wiping his hands clean on the front of his shirt. His white shirt. Moira thought about saying something, scolding him for not using the handkerchief he carried in his trouser pocket, but decided against it. There would be plenty of time for that once they were somewhere safe and settled. For now, she just wanted to enjoy his smiles and laughter.

"Oh, I remember now," she exclaimed, holding out her hand. Luca took it, forcing Moira to stoop a little, and began swinging their hands, bouncing with each step. "Well, Wendy took the shadow and put it away in a drawer so—"

"No," Luca sighed with the seeming patience of an old man who still had eternity before him.

"No?" Moira teased, "What do you mean 'no'?"

Luca looked up at her, completely calm. "I no want dis stowy."

"You don't want this story," Moira said slowly, both correcting his grammar and clarifying his meaning. "Just a few nights ago, you were begging to hear it."

"I want to dave it."

"Alright," Moira said, running her fingers through his hair. "We'll save Peter Pan for later." A small silence stretched as Luca dutifully marched ahead and Moira watched him, an amused grin wanting to show, tickling the corners of her mouth. Her big boy. He seemed so focused, but on what, she couldn't tell.

His disciplined stare began to wander and soon his head was tilted back as he looked at the sky, his mouth hanging open in the most unconscious way possible. Moira couldn't help the giggle—it sounded so young and unlike her—that escaped past her own well-trained maturity. Luca's eyes drifted over to her, but his head and mouth remained frozen as if nothing had happened.

"You're going to swallow a bug if you keep your mouth open like that for much longer," she said, fighting to keep a straight face. Luca's eyebrows furrowed in a way she knew all too well.

Challenge Accepted.

She could read his body language and, honestly, it didn't bode well for him. Sure enough, after just a few yards down the road he made a startled chocking sound and bent over, spitting and flailing. Bugs. Yum. But she had warned him.

Moira knelt next to him, trying not to laugh and ultimately failing when Luca looked her in the eye. "Ohoo, oh no. Luca. Don't be angry," she giggled, reaching out for him as he tried to move away.

"No!" He shouted, rubbing his eyes, trying not to cry and ultimately failing.

"Luca," Moira chocked, still trying to stop laughing, "Luca, I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you." She pulled him into a hug and rocked him, trying to stop the giggles that just seemed endless as Luca tried to angrily pinch her. Of course she was laughing at him, but she couldn't say that. She gained control slowly, hiccupping as her laughter subsided. Luca was pouting. "I love you, Luca," she said, kissing him on the forehead. He instantly swiped his forehead with his sleeve, scrubbing until he had a nice, shiny red spot on the middle of his forehead.

Luca seemed to mull over her words as he scrubbed before saying dourly "I yuve you, doo." He didn't mean it, not right now, at least, but Moira smiled anyway. She straightened, feeling her bones creak with the effort and held out her hand for his. Luca eyed the hand warily before sniffing, pointing his nose in the air, and marching past her.

Moira stood dumbfounded as the little prince sauntered past her.

Oh ho! He's got attitude.

Moira followed after him, hiding the smile she could still feel itching at the corners of her mouth. Luca, she was sure, would have continued on for the rest of the evening that way, but alas, it was not meant to be. As the sun was beginning to set, the silence was breached.

His stomach growled, but he didn't say anything. He wouldn't say anything until Moira handed him a piece of waybread from the pack. "Tanks." He obviously hadn't meant to say it, it was just a reflex, but Moira smiled anyway.

"You're welcome. We should probably find a place to sleep before the sun's gone." Luca continued to ignore her. "Would you like to help me find a camping spot?" She was offering a truce, but he shot it down.

"No."

"Alright, then," Moira sighed, annoyance flaring. "I guess we can sleep over there." She pointed to the muddy banks of the river and Luca look scandalized.

"In da mud?"

"No, silly," Moira said sarcastically, already walking off the road. "In the river. I'm sure it will be nice and warm, especially once we light a fire."

"You can't do dat!" Luca said, running after her, missing her sarcasm completely. "Betuz, betuz fiwer doesn't wert in wadew."

"Fire doesn't work in water?! Well, why didn't you tell me that? I guess we can sleep over by that tree, then," she said, veering to the left to the spot she had originally meant to camp at. "I guess it'll have to do."

Moira spread out the ground cloth before unfolding their blanket. Luca slipped into their makeshift bed, waiting impatiently as Moira redid the buckles and straps on their bag. She crawled in next to him and opened her arms. Luca didn't have to think twice. He scooted next to her and let Moira hold him, sighing as she ran her fingers through his golden curls until his breathing became soft and even and her eyes drifted closed.

They had slept too long. She knew that the moment her eyes opened. Luca was stretched out next to her, his arms extended over his head, his rounded tummy peaking out from under his shirt. Spots of sunlight warmed the blanket and Moira stretched, feeling every knotted muscle seize and relax.

"Luca," Moira yawned, rolling onto her hands and knees. "Luca, it's time to get up." Luca moaned, his peaceful sleeping face twisting into a grimace.

"Nooo," he sighed, rolling onto his stomach.

Moira rubbed his back gently, trying to encourage him. "Well, I guess we could lay here all day, but then you won't get to see the Elves."

An eye. A single eye opened and Luca waited. It was all Moira needed. She sat back on her heels, searching through their pack for breakfast. "Uhmh. Elves. If we start walking now, we'll be in Rivendell by supper." It was a lie. She had no idea how far it was to Rivendell. It could be days, weeks. Back in the relative safety of Bree, it looked like an easy journey. A small line on the map that she could cover with her thumb. But it was turning out to be much more than she had anticipated.

"Ewves?" Luca was propped up on his elbows, his interest peaked.

Moira paused at Luca's confusion. Elves. Had she never told him about Elves? He'd never seen them before, that was sure, but she only knew that because she hadn't seen them either. She scrambled wildly, trying to figure out how to describe Elves when Luca piped up, "Aw dey like fawies?"

"Yes!" Moira exclaimed. "Just like Tinker Bell."

Contrary to Moira's hope, Luca flopped back down onto his stomach and closed his eyes. Apparently fairies were not nearly interesting enough to bother moving.

"But you know who lives with the fairies?" Moira asked, grasping at straws. Luca grunted, but didn't move and so she leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "the Lost Boys." Luca shot up from his sport, or, he tried to. There was the little problem of being tangled in the blanket.

Oh, and Moira's head in the way.

As it happened, both of them ended up on the ground, hands wrapped around their respective bruises, which served as their reward for this encounter.

Luca was only momentarily stunned as he rubbed at the lump on the top of his head. Now he was ready to go. Moira, on the other hand, was feeling like crawling back into bed and letting everything pass her by. Including her throbbing jaw. Had she been at home, that's exactly what she would've done. Popped a few pain pills and crawled back into her nice, warm bed.

She gritted her teeth, tasting blood and hating herself for thinking that. For torturing herself over thoughts of home. For being weak and whinny. Luca deserved better. She owed him that. So she forced a smile, cringing as she moved her tender jaw, and returned to her search for breakfast.

While she pulled out breakfast, Luca zipped around their little makeshift camp, busily rolling the blankets up and leaving them in a heap next to the pack. Moira would have to refold them, but it was the though that counted.

She and Luca sat side by side in an easy silence as they munched on stale bread and a handful of nuts each. It wasn't much, but the food left in the pack would see them through for at least another four days. Five, if Moira minimized her portions. Her gut clenched at the thought, but there was no way around it. No knowing how long it would take them to find the valley, let alone if they were on the right road. But somehow, she would find it. For Luca's sake, she would find it.