Warnings: Cuteness, oddity in thought, eventual violence, heartbreak, and other nasties. Neverland always surprises us.
Disclaimer: Peter Pan does not belong to me. However, the new situations and characters are. Faerie Dust

Chapter 2

The well hidden, secret round up bell hung just outside the secret lair of the Lost Boys. In all the time even the oldest boy had lived there, it had never rung. The Lost Boys had entrusted knowledge of the bell to themselves and the chief of the Redskins. They had an understanding, you see. If the bell rang, the Boys needed help and the Indians would come. Likewise, the Indian Chief had a great horn that she could blow if the Indians needed the Boys’ help. It was a good arrangement that had never been called upon.

Therefore, when the bell suddenly rung late one evening, it caused a noticeable stir with the Boys. They knew at once what the never-before-heard sound was and raced up to see what idiot had knocked the bell when they didn’t need any help at all. Grubby hands armed with all manner of weaponry (for who knew what was outside one's door in Neverland?), they charged out and came to a skidding stop when the culprit before them was an unusually large, unusually gruff, and unusually red Redskin.

“What’s the big idea?” Gus, the tallest, asked with a scowl. He was a brute with sandy hair and big eyebrows that had gotten him picked on before he beat his way to the top.

“That ain’t no toy,” muttered Pip with his hands balled up at his hips as he tried to look bigger than he actually was. His big brown eyes were more curious than full of malice and it shattered the effect quite efficiently.

“Great Chief calls for Lost Boys,” the big Indian Brave ground out and his voice rumbled through their bellies as if he’d shouted. Immediately, little Twist gave an ‘eep’ of pure terror and ducked behind Squint, as was his normal reaction to fear. Squint just glanced skyward in annoyance and settled a rough, but warm, hand on Twist's shoulder.

“What’s she want us for?” asked Raz once he’d decided no one else was going to ask. He was well known for that sort of thing so when the other Boys decided not to say anything, they knew Raz would do it for them and keep strained silences from occurring.

“Not explainum,” growled the Brave. It caused Twist to utter another horrified sound and a rather exasperated sigh from Squint. “Lost Boys getum to camp.”

“All right, sheesh, we’re goin’…” Wit muttered with a flick of his hand. He smoothed back some of his unruly brown hair and gave the big Brave a bored look. “Lead the way, pal.”

The Redskin narrowed his eyes with irritation, but gave a swift nod and started off with the six boys trailing behind him. When they arrived at the camp, other Indians looked curiously at them. There had not been a hunt so the Boys were not captured that day, and few knew of the Chief’s summons. The Boys took it well with pride and confidence, except for Twist, who cowered against Squint’s side.

Twist was the youngest Lost Boy. He had big, innocent brown eyes and a head of impossibly curly black hair. The other boys thought it was his few years that made him so completely terrified of the whole world, but no one knew for sure. Twist started clinging to Squint as soon as he realized what a pushover the other boy was and had ever since. As long as Squint was around to save him from possible dangers, Twist was able to go along with the other Boys. He adored the elder boy.

As one would think from his name, Squint had narrow eyes that made him look as if he were staring at a bright light all the time. They were a jet black that matched his shiny, straight hair perfectly. When Squint first came around, the Boys had tried to give him to the Redskins, thinking he’d been lost, but no baby Indian had been misplaced so he had been later given back to the Boys. This didn’t bother him much, but little really did. Generally, he was rather lazy as long as no one provoked him. Squint, being so different from the rest of the Boys, had fought a hard road to respect and once he’d gained it, had decided to celebrate by doing little more than he had to. Twist’s constant hanging on annoyed him, but the little wasn’t enough of a bother to go after.

The Chief’s tent was little different than the rest of them. She was not outside to greet them. Instead, it was her son, Fire Bird, who stood before the entrance. The little Redskin grinned at the new arrivals and let out a welcoming shout that was quickly returned as the Boys piled onto him. They tussled lightly, heartily enjoying it the whole time. Soon enough, a small girl poked her head out and pouted at the lot of them.

“In!” she said with much authority.

“Aw shaddup,” muttered Raz, but they went in. Fire Bird waved after them and resumed his post outside the tent.

Great Chief Tiger Lily was a no-nonsense sort of woman who ran her tribe as her father had before her and his father and so on. She was genial but firm and the Boys knew better than to cross her if they could help it. The fact that they came face to face every third day made them well acquainted with how to treat one another.

“How,” Tiger Lily began with a secretive little smile.

“How,” echoed the boys. They dropped their arms and sat down in a loose semi circle before her, eyes rapt in attention.

“Prophet speakum,” said Tiger Lily as her face fell into solemnity. The boys glanced at one another but only Gus and Squint were old enough to know the true importance of such a thing. The great Redskin prophet only spoke when he was giving an oration in the secret Indian tongue. Few of the Redskins themselves understood it. In any case, he was one of the most important people in Neverland, next to Peter Pan, who was missing. The thought that he might now hold the key to where Pan had gone enticed them to hold their attention.

At true nightfall, the Boys followed Tiger Lily and her son and daughter to the prophet’s tent. He had fallen into a trance early that afternoon, which had made it known that a prophecy was soon to come. After the Boys went in, other Redskins of importance calmly went in to stand along the walls, their faces permanently grim.

Last to enter was the only adult in Neverland that was neither Indian nor Pirate. His name was Jacob and he was a wanderer of the land. No one knew how he’d come to be there, nor why he hadn’t succumbed to the curse of Growing Up as Lost Boys did when they lived too many years. He knew everything about Neverland and no one could fully remember a time he hadn’t been there. Jacob could never be found when he wasn’t around and only came when he decided to. His presence at the oration was not a surprise to any. What surprised them was that his constant companion, Storm, was no where to be seen. The serious boy seemed to be Jacob's shadow, but far easier to find that the man himself. Like Jacob, no one knew quite where Storm came from. It was commonly believed he was born of a strange affair between a Redskin and a Pirate. How this could have happened was unclear and Storm bore the brunt of aggressions from all sides anyway and reacted with a distinct bitterness.

They all waited an hour. Then, the old Indian’s blind eyes slid open and he began to speak. The Boys listened patiently, but no sound was recognizable. Instead, they watched the faces of the Indians and of Jacob. Tiger Lily looked more and more hopeful as time went on but a distinct unease colored Jacob. When the prophet finished, he blinked a few times and then laid down and went to sleep. The audience quietly left him in peace.

“Wha’d he say?” Raz asked immediately, scratching his shortly shorn red hair. Tiger Lily waited until they were all safely in her tent. Jacob had disappeared during the walk, but the boys weren’t perturbed at all. It was normal for him.

“Prophet say Peter Pan comun back,” she said with veiled excitement. The boys looked at one another with awe and wonder. Peter Pan! None of them had ever met him, or they have been too young to remember it, but stories abounded about the mischievous boy who never grew up. Even the Lost Boys grew up eventually and if they weren’t killed in time, they became Pirates. Gus and Squint were the only ones from the last bunch to survive the quick, decisive action by Tiger Lily to limit the population of Pirates, as they had been the only ones too young to exhibit such behaviors. They were not bothered and were content with the knowledge that when the time came, she would be there to end their lives as well before they became something as awful as a Pirate.

“What’s he like?” Pip asked, tilting his head and mussing his already messy, light brown hair. Tiger Lily smiled softly.

“Peter Pan great warrior,” she said proudly. “Neverland be grand when he comun back.”

The Boys hoped very much that her words rung true. Neverland was a harsh mistress when she decided to be and was growing more and more so every day. Only one being had ever fully conquered her and he'd been gone for ten years.

----

The flight to Neverland was very long. Francis, Colin, and Liliding amused themselves by playing games with the birds or seeing who would dive farther towards the ground. When at last they arrived, both children were amazed by the sight.

A large island lay before them, just waiting to be explored. They could see hidden lagoons from the air, the huge, daunting mountain with a skull on the side, the pirate ship waiting in the harbor… Smoke rose from the valley from the Redskin camp and Francis could almost see them dancing to their drums.

“This is wonderful,” she breathed. “I feel like I’ve known this place my entire life!”

Colin smiled and said he was the same.

Liliding made a sharp dive, which the two followed. They went round in a tightening circle just past the Indian camp with Liliding ringing gaily. As they reached the treetops, Francis noticed the balls of light lifting from the leaves. She gave a whoop of joy as the Faeries gathered, flitting about both children with curious chimes. Francis could barely contain her laughter at their curious words. Colin, unaware of unintentional insults, simply listened to the delightful sounds.

The Faeries led them to the ground. The slowly darkening forest was alight with faeries of all shapes and sized and colors that chimed curiously in all tones. Colin could scarcely believe how beautiful they all were. Francis, on the other hand, was much more interested in one single faerie. The Queen of the Fae was too beautiful to be mistaken for anyone else. Her long, graceful wings seemed spun from pearls and gold and her gown was spider web sprinkled with silver dust. She took Colin’s breath away once he laid eyes on her.

“What’s with all the sparklies? Aren’t you afraid of going blind?”

It was one of the first times in his life that Colin found himself staring with dumbfounded embarrassment at his younger sister. Francis was the picture of innocence, her arms folded over her chest and head tilted to one side curiously. He half expected the Fae Queen to be offended but instead, she gave a chimed laugh and spoke in soft little bell rings that made Colin want to do anything and everything in his power to keep her talking. Francis didn’t seem affected by her at all. The blonde girl listened closely, her face etched in excited seriousness.

At last, her eyes grew large and she whipped around to face her brother. “Did you hear that?! We’re going to join the Lost Boys!”

She whooped with glee and Colin smiled at her exuberance. Blonde curls bounced as Francis hopped around, doing a little victory dance. It was actually a bit surprising to her brother. While she’d never been a reserved girl at all, Francis had never been so…open.

The Queen laughed softly and her face was fond, but there was a sadness to it that only Colin seemed to notice. His smile faded as he looked at her. Her eyes met his and it was instantly communicated that she knew he knew. There was something very tragic about them. She smiled at him and it was all Colin could do to not try to comfort her.

“Storm?” Francis asked, jerking Colin back to the real world. He was confused by her words, but the Queen was speaking, so he didn’t ask. Francis’s plump little face grew so serious and determined as she listened that Colin found it quite funny. He didn’t laugh, of course. She would never have forgiven him. Finally, Francis nodded and turned to her brother. “A boy named Storm is going to take us to the Lost Boys since Liliding is staying here.”

“Well, I’m glad for a guide,” he replied. Francis still looked serious, as if she had been assigned a mission of utmost importance.

They were given food and drink and then led to a soft patch of grass and flowers to sleep off their journey. It was more comfortable than either thought and they fell into dreaming quickly.

----

"Do you remember them, or are they forgotten as well?"

He didn't look at her as he carefully pulled one sleeve over his arm, then the other. The black fabric fit exactly right, but that was to be expected. Thin fingers expertly fit the brass clasps into place.

"They'll have grown up, just like her."

His hands stilled.

"That got you, didn't it?"

Finally, he turned to look at her. She wasn't surprised by the hostility in his green eyes, nor scared of it. She'd been at his side too long for that and he knew it. She set her hands primly upon her lap, the black spider silk of her dress cold against her skin. Her softly shimmering wings rested along her back and hung down past her gilded throne.

"Don't," he said, voice cold and dark. She closed her eyes and turned away.

"As you wish."

Turning, he took the large feathered hat and set it carefully upon his head of black curls. There. All was ready. He went to the door but paused and glanced back at her expectantly.

"Am I to die today?" she asked, as she did every day. He glared as if the very idea offended him.

"You will live forever, faerie, mark my words," he growled. And then he slammed the door shut after him. She sighed ever so softly.

"You can't keep me forever," she whispered softly. "All things die and I have been alive far too long..."

He knew this himself, but he would never face it. Too many things in his life had disappointed him to let him let her go. As he stepped out upon the deck, he allowed these things to come to his mind, fill him with hatred and anger, and he became fully that which he called himself.

"The ship is ready," murmured the chubby old man who accompanied him. "We'll cast anchor at your order, sir."

Hard eyes looked over the ship, viewing each of his men in turn, and Captain Hook began his day.

----

Francis awoke to a hard shove. She uttered a sharp cry and rolled onto her hands and knees, eyes snapping wide to take in her attacker.

The boy before her looked rather surly. His deep green eyes reminded her of the forests, deep and mysterious. He was taller than her and strong, but seemed no older. Long black hair fell wild down his back and around his face and streaks of red raced down his cheeks. They were matched by markings around his upper arm. His skin was too pale to be an Indian, but he looked too wild to be a Lost Boy. The boy wore only a pair of tattered trousers and a quiver on his back, bow strapped with it. A knife was slung from the belt round his waist. The boy stared at her with something akin to distain.

"That was very rude," Francis said with a scowl. The boy didn't seem bothered by the prospect.

"Wake him," he said instead. She gave him a nasty look but still woke Colin. He woke easily, sitting up and finding his glasses before replacing them on his face. Colin gave the boy only a lifted brow.

"Storm?" he guessed.

"Follow," the boy replied grimly as he turned and started into the forest. Colin got up to do so and Francis, though still unhappy, went along with it. Storm said nothing and moved as if he really didn't care whether or not he was followed. His very attitude angered her.

"What is your problem?!" she yelled suddenly. Colin frowned, but he too had noticed Storm's less than kindly disposition. The boy in question gave Francis a glance, but he still didn't seem particularly concerned with her.

"What?"

"You're acting like this is all so troublesome!"

"It is." Perhaps it was the utter lack of anything in his tones that made Francis so angry, but Colin could almost feel the rage rolling off her.

"The Queen herself asked this favor of you!"

"Yes."

"You should be honored!"

"Why?"

Francis blinked and stared at him. Storm stared right back with that blank gaze. Colin thought he should at least seem a little angered by the questions, but he wasn't.

"She's the Queen-" started Francis through grit teeth but Storm cut her off.

"And that matters for precisely what reason?" The boy folded his arms over his chest, lifting one brow. "I have few dealings with the Fae, except when they're too lazy to do things themselves. They're a race of selfish little fire crackers and I've no time for their games and idiocy. So do, kindly, explain to me what exactly I have to be proud of in serving them?"

Francis stared at him and could think of nothing to say. She wanted to defend the poor things or rage at him, but there was some truth to his words that she couldn't fight again. Colin sighed softly.

"Perhaps it would be best if we continued in quiet," he said, trying to make things better. Storm rolled his eyes and gave a short snort. Francis just scowled. However, neither said another word as Storm started off again and they followed. Colin was glad for it, but could still feel the resentment welling within both.

Hours it took, wandering through the woods, but soon, they came upon a very large tree. Storm gave it an even dirtier look than he reserved for Francis.

"Here is your new home. Good riddance to you both," he said. With that, he turned and disappeared into the woods. Francis glared after him, then looked back at the tree.

"He's left us to die," she muttered grimly. Colin patted her arm.

"I doubt that," he said. "There must be a secret here we have to figure out.

Francis scowled just as darkly, but she joined Colin in looking for said secret. They looked high and low but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Colin sat down on a fallen log when he got tired and watched as his sister continued on. She was quite adamant about finding the Lost Boys, as she had dreamed far too long of becoming one to let it go now. Despite growing hot and sweaty after a while, Francis couldn't admit defeat. It was likely a very good thing then that a shout came from the woods.

"Get away from there or I'll shoot!!"

Francis straightened and frowned at the boy that stepped into the open. He looked about Colin's age with messy blonde hair and light blue eyes. Animal skins made up his clothing. The bow in his hand was held expertly and aimed just as well. Colin slowly got up and went to his sister's side.

"We were told to come here," Francis growled at the boy, too tired and cranky to even try being diplomatic. He lifted one thick brow as another boy came out from behind him. He was black haired and had dark, narrow eyes. This boy held a bow as well, but he didn't have an arrow notched as he looked the two over.

"Any proof?" he asked in a lazy drawl. Francis and Colin looked at one another but neither could think of any proof other than that they were there at all. The boy sighed a little and looked at his blonde companion. "They don't look like pirates, Gus."

"Shut up, Squint," Gun snarled back at him. Squint just sighed again and looked very put upon. Then, abruptly, he blinked and gave Francis another look.

"Gus, I think that one's a girl."

"What?" Gus frowned and looked at Francis studiously, brows furrowed hard. "What's a girl doing here?"

"What's wrong with me being a girl?!" Francis shouted immediately, bristling. Colin covered his eyes with one hand and hoped death would be swift. His sister had no sense of the word 'tact'. "I can whallop you just as well as any boy!"

"Whallop me? You?" Gus laughed and Colin was relieved when the bow lowered and the arrow returned to its quivver. "I'd like to see you try."

It seemed that Squint had a bit more self preservation instinct than his companion. He moved a few steps away while Gus egged the strange girl on. This was fortunate, because Francis proved quicker than he thought. She lanched herself at Gus and the two fell into a tangled heap of flailing limbs, sharp nails, and biting teeth. Colin stepped nearer to Squint and the two watched in silence.

As the fight progressed (neither could tell who was winning,) other boys appeared from the trees. Colin glanced over each one in turn and finally came to the notion that these were, indeed, the Lost Boys they had been seeking. Figured that his sister would pick a fight on the first meeting.

"I'm Squint." Colin looked down at the offered hand and took it, giving a shake before releasing.

"Colin," he replied. "She's Francis."

"She's mental, that's what she is," said a wide, red haired boy who had his arms folded over his chest. "Going after Gus."

Colin looked back at the fight and was rather sure his sister would lose, despite the effort she was showing. Gus was very good in a scuffle. Finally, he managed to pin Francis to the ground on her stomach, one arm caught along her back. She kept snarling and struggling even if she knew he'd won. Gus finally decided he'd done enough and let her go, getting away quickly.

"Whallop me indeed," he said smugly. Francis got up slowly, glaring at him under a fringe of dirt speckled bangs. Gus folded his arms over his chest and looked over her. She didn't back down at all. Finally, he spoke out, "So. You're new kids wanting to be one of us, hm?"

"If it's all right," Collin said, though Gus's eyes never left his sister.

"We can't be too sure you're good enough," Gus murmured and Francis immediately gnashed her teeth at him.

"Gimme any test, you'll see my worth," she hissed.

"Bit of a firecracker, isn't she?" said a fat red headed boy. Next to him, a bored brunette rolled his eyes.

"Bothersome, I say."

Francis shot both of them scathing looks before she turned to see what Gus's ruling would be. He was quiet, eyes narrow and calculating. Suddenly, the one thing that came to Francis's mind was how tall Gus was. He was taller than any of the other boys, his face a little harder, and he was definitely older. Something about that bothered her immensely.

"Okay," Gus said at last. "We'll take you. But just for testing at first. Maybe full time later."

The little blonde headed girl grinned widely. Collin looked happy as well, but kept it under wraps, as was proper.

----

A/N: Well, now that the first two chapters are out of the way...

First of all, I'll hope no one gets pissed off about how I write the Indians (or the fact that I repeatedly refer to them as Redmen or Redskins). I happen to be Native American myself. Finding nothing but amusement in those descriptions (I love westerns!), I was also trying to keep in with J. M. Barrie's original writing style a bit.

Also, IN NEED OF A BETA FOR THIS FIC!

Either PM or email me if interested. I won't work you hard (I'm a slow writer.)