Disclaimer: Peter Pan, all characters, places, and related terms belong to J.M. Barrie, and Universal Pictures, Columbia Pictures, and Revolution Studios.

Fairy Dance

The first time Peter Pan attended the fairy dance he was so small he lacked the ability to sit up on his own yet. So he lay in soft green grass, wide eyes taking in the trees which climbed up forever, night sky and stars peeking in. But it was the balls of bright golden light near the tree tops the babe's eyes followed, thousands of them – darting quickly, slowly floating, flying alone in its course, or two circling each other. Some of the balls of light came down to hover just in front of Peter's nose, revealing to be tiny ladies and gentlemen who smiled and laughed, bowing to him before rejoining the dance. And the baby gurgled and giggled around his thumb in his month.

When the fairies invited Peter again to their dance, he was just starting to walk. Sitting in the middle of the circle of trees, he stared and giggled, full of awe at the tiny bright beings flying above him. Determinedly he got to his feet, swaying slightly, finding his balance. Several fairies danced around him; clapping his hands, Peter's laugh reached all four corners of the Neverland. He took a few wobbly steps in pursuit of the flying creatures before falling to the ground with a thump. Whining in frustration, his brow smoothed when Tinkerbell hovered in front of him and made silly faces, producing a merry laugh.

Peter noticed the music for the first time when he returned to the fairies' ball. It was so light, delicate, like a sweet dream or lullaby. Closing his green eyes, he listened, feeling as though the music gently lifted him up and took him away to see places and wonders he had never imagined. His mouth spread in a contented smile and, raising his pan pipes, he began to play.

Next time at the fairy dance Peter Pan spun in circles on the forest floor before boldly flying upward to join the tiny beings in their floating dance. And if he had the steps all wrong, that was no matter. For the boy at least moved gracefully and slowly instead of his typical wild, fast motions. And the fairies smiled and applauded his efforts.

By the time Peter danced with "partners" – with one or more fairies trailing in his wake or his following or circling them – now able to perform the dances perfectly, he knew each name of the fairies. There was Mayblossom, Boots, Silverash, and countless more. "A pleasure," he'd say with a cocky smile and beautiful bow while offering his hand. Both he and his partner would giggle, unbothered by their difference in size, and merrily join the dance.

Peter knew not how many times he had attended the fairy dance, only that tonight for the first in a long time he did not partake but simply looked, settled on a very high tree branch, with balls of golden light all around. Yet it was the fairy king and queen, less than an arm's length away, whom the magical boy observed. Their dance did not match that of their subjects, whose steps carried them near and away from each other, holding and releasing hands in a heartbeat. No. Here the king and queen remained close, hands never letting go, gentle touches on his shoulder and against her waist. They glided together perfectly, light as air. Often they looked into each other's face, but it was the moments they were cheek to cheek gazing in the same direction which caused the boy to catch his breath. An unfamiliar weight, hollow and heavy, settled in his chest as he watched and watched.

He did not dance after that, though he continued to accept the invitations, and looked his fill, eyes twinkling. Only when he caught glimpses of the fairy rulers did something wondering and serious flicker in his gaze. His smile was polite, lacking its cockiness, as he turned down requests for dances. "I can be your partner!" Tinkerbell huffed once. Peter had seemed in a dream, the words "You can't" a bare whisper, his hand coming to rest against his chest.

There were no hints of joy, freedom, awe, or play in the boy's face as he rested his weight back on his elbows, gazing from his spot on the ground to the countless fairies high above. The music did not surround and carry him away as before, nor tempt him to bring out his pan pipes. Only there was an odd tilt of his lips and wistfulness in his expression as he rose to his feet with a long sigh. Squeezing his eyes shut, he once again returned to the fuzzy thought that had slowly formed over countless nights: about his height, arms not too short, legs too long, sweet, graceful, believing… Daringly he found words for the thought: "I want a partner."

Peter Pan entered the fairy dance shyly, eyes brimming with nervousness, something that had never happened before, even when he attended for the very first time. Ah! But this was not like previous times. He turned to the girl who followed him (she puzzled but trusting) into the trees' circle. Unbidden, a smile tugged on the corners of his lips as he saw her turn around and around in an attempt to take it all in, her long brown hair flying about her shoulders, her face filled with awed delight at the thousands of winged creatures. When she finally faced him, some of her excitement diminished in light of his stiff stance and the uncertain look on his face. "Peter?"

He stepped closer and bowed deeply. Her smile was sweet as she curtsied and gazed at him, her blue eyes shining with moonlight and fairy dust. When the boy lifted up his hand, some of the weight in him lifted when the girl placed her hand in his, then curled her other one around his bare shoulder. She knows the dance! the thought warmed him from the inside out as they tentatively started moving over the grass. And as laughter bubbled up inside him, there were stars in Peter's eyes as the two lifted into the air. He tightened his hold on the girl when a hint of fright flashed in her eyes. "Trust me, Wendy," he whispered in her ear. She nodded and shifted so her cheek rested against his. Peter Pan smiled from ear to ear, feeling more free and joyful than he had in an age.

This was as it should be.

THE END