#ruthlessiii

Finally, the time had arrived when Rufio’s innocence that naturally came with a baby would be gradually morphed into something different. The complete opposite to what it once was. 

It was because of the boy’s newfound duties to fight like a warrior alongside his brothers that Wendy feared for his heart. What would her king turn their son into? Oh, she so hoped - no matter how small that hope was becoming with every passing day that Rufio spent as a Lost Boy - that the boy wouldn’t become as cruel as his leader/adoptive father. Yes, she did expect him to develop some of the characteristics that made up Neverland’s king, but she dearly hoped with all her might that his heart would not be too tainted. 

As for Peter, he couldn’t deny how proud he was of Rufio. The boy listened to everything he was told. He was a skilled hunter, a worthy opponent and his loyalty almost rivalled that of Felix’s - much to Peter’s queen’s dismay. And, as everyone who knew Rufio had predicted, he started to develop the same expressions as Peter. He used similar phrases. He laughed as fiercely as he fought, laughed in the face of danger and he enjoyed a challenge just like Father, liked to face it head-on.  

Rufio, Peter also noticed, was particularly close with Felix as well. Not that it bothered him, really. If anything, Peter was glad that the boy fit in so well with the Lost Boys, got along so well with them. 

Now, there was a new addition to the area in which Peter and Felix were when not a lot was happening within the camp: Peter still sat on his throne, Felix on his stump, but now Rufio stood on the other side of Father. Of course, the new addition would approach Mother when she entered the glade. Although a warrior and a particular favourite of Pan’s, he was still without a doubt a ‘mummy’s boy’. 

Every time Wendy would enter Camp, on a day when not a lot was going on, Rufio would leave Father’s side and join Mother’s, claiming it was just to protect her. Wendy would smile to herself, unconvinced as she would make her way across the clearing. 

For all the passion Rufio had inherited from Peter, Wendy was grateful. This meant that Mother was still able to keep his heart pure - to an extent. He was still a Lost Boy, after all. He would still slaughter attackers and opponents in serious brawls in a heartbeat, would receive victory in a triumph that mirrored Father’s, and would enjoy a good combat.    

On a night no different from the rest since Rufio had 'come of age' to join his brothers as a Lost Boy, Peter was sat on his throne as usual, Felix beside him and Wendy standing with them, wrapped in a light purple cloak. Felix and Wendy watched as the boys danced around the wild bonfire, as they did every night, while Peter played the pipes.

Occasionally, Wendy’s eyes would trail from her king to her adopted son dancing wildly around the fire with his brothers and she couldn’t help but think: they looked so different; as yet they were so alike. If not for the looks, anyone would have passed Rufio for Peter’s brother.

The full moon cast it’s glowing silvery beams down on the island, its majestic aura brightening the dark cover of the night. Stars shimmered and gleamed. It was a beautiful night – the nights had been for a while. For Wendy, it was almost as if…since Rufio first arrived as a baby, their family – however odd it was – was complete at last. And no one wanted it to end.

Well, except one.

Often, Peter’s green eyes would flicker up from his pipes and they would lock gazes with Wendy’s. But he would continue playing, the corners of his mouth twisted upwards - into a smirk or a smile, Wendy couldn’t be too sure - as the tunes escaped the pipes with each breath. 

What no one knew was that, in the shadows of the trees, a certain pirate was lurking near the glade. One that was powerful enough to practice necromancy. One that was dark enough to be feared by all pirates. One that was an old enemy of Peter Pan’s. Edward Teach – better known as Blackbeard. 

The dreaded pirate’s piercing blue eyes examined the clearing, making enough time to glare at his old enemy and examine the boy-king’s weaknesses one by one. Oh, how he’d love to make this boy miserable. How he’d love to take away all that mattered to him. He wanted to make the demonic boy suffer the same hell he’d tossed the pirate in. After all, ‘raising hell’ didn’t have to be a literal meaning.

Once he’d gathered all the information he needed, Blackbeard receded deeper into the shadows, leaving no trace of his presence. 

Meanwhile, the music was coming to an end and the boys’, what they called, ‘dancing’ started to slow. By the time it stopped altogether and the Lost Boys had settled, stood still, Wendy had walked over and was sat on her king’s lap, ready to spin the boys a tale before they went to bed. 

In one swift moment, the boys were sat on the jungle floor in front of the throne. 

As Wendy told the story she’d had in mind all night, the boys all listened in awe. Not a sound could be heard from them. Rufio, especially, had admiration in his dark brown eyes while he watched Mother.  

Eventually, the story was brought to a close - much to the Lost Boys’ small protests - before they headed off to their makeshift beds and Wendy ensured they were all tucked in properly and comfy before she would take Peter’s hand and leave them to sleep. 

She tucked them in one by one, Peter watching, waiting patiently. 

Then, as she did every night, she lingered next to Rufio’s hammock he’d made himself. Much to Wendy’s dismay, Peter had insisted the boy couldn’t share the room with them anymore, that he had to sleep with the other Lost Boys. Evidently, Wendy had fought him on this for a few nights. 

Noticing the older boys’ tired looks in Camp as the couple quarrelled, mixed together with the younger ones’ worried expressions, Rufio decided to step in. He assured Mother that he wanted to move out of her cave, sleep in the camp with his brothers. After all, he was a Lost Boy now and he did not want to appear weak because he was still sharing a room with Mother. Just like Father, Rufio regarded his reputation with the utmost care and seriousness. 

With his words, Rufio had helped Father win the argument while letting Mother down gently and convincing her it was for the best. 

Still, that did not stop Wendy from taking extra time to tuck her baby boy in. 

- Are you comfy? she asked. 

- Yes, Ma, he replied, really just wanting to close his eyes. 

- Are you sure? she asked. 

- Yes, Ma. 

- Come and get me if you need anything. 

- Yes, Ma. Goodnight, he answered while lifting his head to kiss her cheek. 

As he rested his head back on his small pillow and closed his eyes, Wendy caressed his forehead before dropping a kiss onto it. 

Goodnight...my baby, she whispered softly. 

Then, she got up from her knees and walked over to where her king was waiting at the edge of the glade. 

She took his waiting hand and the pair disappeared into the jungle, heading for Wendy’s cave.