#ruthlessiv

Days turned into weeks and something was yet to happen - whatever Blackbeard was planning, anyway. Peter continued to train his warriors in the form of games. He continued with his competitions to see who could fire an arrow the furthest and closest to the target, who could combat with all Lost Boys, including Peter himself, and come out on top, who would be the next Lost Boy to bring back a decent and succulent piece of meat. These competitions had been made tougher since that night because, yes, Peter hadn’t managed to detect the pirate’s presence, but he could sense a storm brewing. Although what specific type of storm, was beyond him. If the Shadow knew anything, it didn’t say and Peter didn’t ask because he was confident that if the Shadow sensed the precise threat laying in wait, so would he. 

All the while Peter was suspicious of his gut-feeling, he kept it to himself. It wasn’t exactly a thought that was at the front of his mind - not when he couldn’t even sense what the brewing storm was, anyway. Maybe it was nothing. 

Meanwhile, his adopted son was facing a nightmare of his own. It first occurred on a mild night hardly indifferent to any other night in Neverland. Although a strange wind had maintained its presence in the air for a while (it may have happened ever since Peter first sensed a mysterious brewing storm), no one paid it any mind.

Rufio was tossing, turning, mumbling incoherently in his sleep, a thin sheen of sweat slowly forming on his olive forehead. None of his brothers paid any heed to the behaviour (Rufio had never talked in his sleep before), all too caught up in their own dreams, his mumblings drowned out by some of the Lost Boys’ snores. If only they knew of what images the Astral Realm were showing him...

Everything was a blur. The commotion that consisted of shouts, cries of pain, pants of near-exhaustion, and rapid movements seemed distant to the boy as he looked about the...ship...in confusion, attempting to take in his surroundings. But the edges of his vision were cloudy, the commotion that Rufio couldn’t quite comprehend murky. However, whatever platform he was on was large enough for him to make out the colours and the shape. Brown wood...an oblong shape...the Jolly Roger? It had to be.  Suddenly, as if only just noticing, Rufio felt his hand clenched into a fist as it held something in it. He looked down to see what he was holding: a blade! And he was in his combatting stance, which could only mean... As if on cue, the boy looked up to find himself facing an opponent, although the opponent’s figure was merely a dark silhouette.  All of a sudden, the figure inched nearer and before Rufio knew it, he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. The pain flared up in his body, intensifying so much that he could no longer stand. Had he been impaled?  That seemed highly likely as, sure enough, he was looking up, staring into the eyes of who was likely his opponent. Blue. Blue eyes.  From there, everything became murkier - if at all possible - than before, the only shapes he could make out from there were the ones within close range to his line of vision. A girl’s cry - or scream, it was hard to tell - of outrage, agony, despair...those blue eyes disappeared, followed by the sound of two swords clashing furiously...another pair of eyes came into Rufio’s view, although not the same ones as before. Brown. They were big brown eyes and he’d recognise those anywhere. They were Mother’s. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as he felt himself being cradled, probably in her arms, and she was saying something - but Rufio couldn’t quite make it out. He wanted to assure her he was fine, tell her not to fuss, but as he opened his mouth, he found nothing would come out.  Then, a pair of green eyes joined Mother’s. Father’s. His eyes...they expressed everything his body could never show, they spoke all the words he could never say.  And, just like that, just as quickly as he’d been sucked into such a nightmare, Rufio found his body floating up into the air. Although, he then found himself looking down at the ship, at the ant-sized figures, only really focusing on Mother and Father kneeling by his limp body. He held out his hand, attempting to float back down and tell them that he was fine, but an invisible force persisted. He was floating further and further away...

Dark eyes shot open. Olive skin was damp. Black hair with red streaks was sticking up in all directions. Hands were clamped into fists with the sheet made of an animal’s fur inside them, clasped in a vice grip. His chest heaved as Rufio gasped, his throat scratching for air, clawing for the breath he’d lost. It all seemed so real...the nightmare. So vivid, the ache from where, Rufio gathered, he’d been impaled still dying down.  

For minutes on end, Rufio laid there, staring up at the hammock above his, trying to gather his thoughts. For minutes, he tried to push that nightmare to the back of his mind. 

Finally, he fists released the sheet and he slammed them against it.  Nothing. Nothing was working. Those vivid images were still there, taunting him. Not only had he’d lost a combat against a...pirate? It had to be! He’d also lost his life to said pirate. He could still feel the dull ache that made his stomach twitch in discomfort. Never had a dream been so real to him - good or bad. For once in a long time, he needed reassurance. He needed to feel safe, reassured that it was a dream. A dream and nothing more. He needed a peace of mind so that he could fall back to sleep - hopefully drift off to a more peaceful sleep. He needed...Mother. 

Sitting up decisively, Rufio put his foot down. He was going to go to Mother. Moving slowly so as not to alert his brothers, he slid his legs round until they hung over the edge of the hammock, his boots touching Camp’s soil. Pushing himself up off his makeshift bed as cautiously, carefully and gently as he could, he straightened himself up and padded across Camp, heading for the edge of the clearing. Once he reached it, Rufio glanced back behind him. A few had stirred, shifted in their sleep - perhaps from the little noise Rufio had made - but none awoke. Not even Felix, as Rufio glanced over at the tall fair-haired boy, who was always on his guard, always alert to the slightest of movements and sounds. Father must have worked him hard today, the dark-haired boy thought to himself. After scanning over Camp one last time and gaining the satisfaction that no one had awakened, that none of his brothers had pretended to sleep so as to catch him off-guard just as he was close to leaving, Rufio finally nodded and turned resolutely, disappearing into the jungle. 

On his way to his adoptive mother’s cave, Rufio thought, contemplated. He actually considered telling Father as well. But then his conscience advised against it. All Father would do would be to leave the cave, head back to Camp, go back to sleep and face the nightmare. Be brave, be a warrior, show the nightmare what made him a lost boy. But, as well as a lost boy who followed orders, Rufio was also a smart boy. His mother had taught him how to know what he needed, how to tell the difference from his wants to his needs.  Right at that moment, yes, Rufio wanted to be treated as his brothers would, talked back down to reality. But, he needed comfort. This was the first vivid nightmare he’d had and a mother’s touch was what could, perhaps, give hint hat comfort. 

With those thoughts in mind, he knew what he was to do. Rufio was going to enter his mother’s cave and seek out the comfort he needed, and would do his best to avoid bothering Father about his nightmare. 

Gradually, the boy reached the mouth of the cave. Looking over both shoulders, making sure that he wasn’t followed, he padded through the cave one quiet step at a time, doing his best to prevent his footsteps reverberating, echoing straight through to Father’s ears. 

Eventually, Rufio came to Mother’s room and crept inside. He craned his neck, checking that both were decent. Just as he’d hoped, both were fully clothed - well, disregarding Peter’s clothes for his torso and his boots, of course - and their backs were facing each other. This made Rufio’s task all the more easier.  Shifting his eyes in Peter’s direction, the boy waited until he was sure that Father was sound asleep before he tip-toed across the floor, round to Mother’s side of the bed. 

Once there, he crouched down until he was level with her serene, dormant face and lifted his hand to gently shake her awake. He knew that if he shook her roughly, she would jolt awake, alerting Peter awake also. And that was one of the things Rufio didn’t want.  After careful coaxing, eyelashes fluttered and eyelids peeled open, revealing warm big brown eyes. Although giving her adopted son a small smile, Wendy’s brow furrowed in confusion. They spoke in hushed tones.  

Rufio...what’s wrong? she asked curiously in a quiet voice. He never entered her room at night anymore. 

I...I couldn’t sleep... he whispered, ashamed to admit it as he ran a hand through his hair. 

Why not? 

I...I had a...a nightmare... 

The girl’s slight smile broke into a full, warm, comforting, motherly smile. She slowly lifted herself up into a sitting position and spread out her arms. Rufio welcomed the gesture and moved into her embrace, closing his eyes with his chin on her shoulder as she ran her fingers through his damp hair. 

Was it that bad? she asked softly. 

He lifted his head, pulling away slightly, although not completely out of her arms, and nodded, pouting like the child he used to be, who could hardly walk. Then, he pulled away completely and glanced over her shoulder to check that Peter was still asleep.  Following his gaze, Wendy instantly understood. 

Come on, she said gently, gesturing with her head to the exit of her room, holding out her hand. 

Had it been any other time, without the nightmare at the forefront of his mind, Rufio would have kindly rejected the offer. But, this was not any other time, and this was just after one of the most vivid nightmares he’d ever had, so Rufio took her hand and she slipped her legs out of the bed. Once on her feet, Wendy slipped on her knee-high boots with only one hand before leading the way out of the room, and out of her cave. 

The girl led her son away from the jungle and more towards Neverland’s coast. She was first to sit down not he edge of a cliff that overlooked the glistening dark sea, a ribbon of silver moonlight stretching across it, towards the pair, the jungle behind them. She turned her head and, upon finding Rufio still standing, she gestured with her head for him to sit beside her. He obeyed but, feeling tiredness overtake his body, he slumped down until his head was in her lap. She caressed his hair in a soothing motion, but it wasn’t enough to coax him back to sleep. The nightmare was too stubborn to retreat to the back of his mind and grant him that. 

Sensing it wasn’t working, although still running her fingers through his hair, she asked: 

Do you want to talk about it? 

The boy shook his head - well, as much as he could with his head resting on Mother’s lap. Like Peter, he was too proud to show vulnerability so easily. 

Mm-mm. 

Wendy internally sighed in frustration. Why were her boys so prideful? 

Was it that bad? 

He nodded. 

After a few minutes, he relented. After all, who else was there to hear? He needed to get it off his chest and if there was one person whom he could confide in, it was Mother. 

I died, Ma. 

How did you die? she asked, knowing full well he was referring to his nightmare. 

I was stabbed and I died. I was killed by a...pirate, he spat the word out in disgust. From there, he gave the details of the nightmare, leaving nothing out, finding himself unable to stop. 

Wendy listened carefully to every last bit of detail he gave her. By the end of it, she felt the white fabric of her high-low dress moistening a little. He was crying. 

Sh-sh-ssh...it’s all right, Rufio. You’re safe now. As long as Father and I are around, we will never let that happen to you. Neither will you brothers; we all look out for each other. You’re safe, sweetheart, it was just a nightmare. 

I still can’t sleep. It felt too real, he admitted with another pout, his defences crumbling - although only for Mother, only ever for Mother. 

Maybe I can help, she offered, a small trick she’d yet to put back into practice from when Rufio was just an infant already in mind. 

H-how? he managed with curiosity while quietly sniffling. 

A lullaby. I used to sing it to you when you were a baby. Whenever you used to wake up crying and you weren’t hungry or didn’t need...cleaning...I’d sing it to you and you would go back to sleep. 

How does it go? he asked, too prideful to admit he wanted - maybe needed - to hear it. 

Hmm...let me see if I can remember it... 

Of course she could remember it. How could she forget what she used to use to lull her baby to sleep? But, she was modest. Despite her acting like she may have trouble remembering, she recounted the lullaby word for word, tune for tune...

A/N: here is the song. It’s from Barbie as Rapunzel. Don’t judge - it’s a Barbie movie CLASSIC that I used to watch in my childhood days :P 

Constant as the stars above Always know that you are loved And my love shining in you Will help you make your dreams come true   Will help your dreams come true 

The lamb lies down and rests it’s head Rufio unintentionally, and unwillingly, elicited a yawn, lazily covering his mouth with his hand before it dropped back down to his side.   On it’s mother’s downy bed Wendy smiled down at him, catching the yawn despite his efforts to hide it.   Dolphin plays in the moonlight’s glow Despite the possibility of it being a mermaid instead of a dolphin, Wendy was awestruck by the creature that leapt out of the sea then dove back under the sea, through the ribbon of wavy, silvery light. Rufio missed it because of his closed eyes.   And butterfly dreams of a violet rose  Dreams of a violet rose 

I’ll cradle you in my arms tonight  Upon that line, Rufio’s eyes peeled open and he stared up in awe at Mother.  As sun embraces the moonlight  Catching his stare, Wendy returned his smile, but didn’t stop singing.  The clouds will carry us off tonight  Rufio returned to facing the sea, eyelids growing heavy again, just as thin shreds of cloud glided over the moon until they left it uncovered again.  Our dreams will run deep like the sea  Our dreams will run deep like the sea  From there, Wendy got carried away in her singing, staring out at the sea and she herself began to grow sleepy. But, she powered through the song resolutely, not stopping until she finished; Rufio’s comfort was more important. 

Constant as the stars above  Always know that you are loved  And my love shining in you  Will help you make your dreams come true As she reached the final line, Wendy’s voice grew softer, feeling her son’s limbs fully relax and his breathing pattern growing even.   Will help your dreams come true 

By the time she’d drawn out the last note, Wendy was already closing her eyes, Rufio having already drifted off into a more peaceful slumber. 

There, mother and son stayed until the first peek of dawn; her hand in his hair, his head in her lap. 

For a long while, this remained their routine - a routine that only belonged to mother and son. He would sneak into her room, she would lead him to that same spot and sing him that same lullaby each night. Then, when he first pale rays of dawn seeped through to their eyes, they would wake. She would sneak back into her cave, into her bed where Peter still laid, her absence undetected. He would sneak back into Camp, into his hammock where the Lost Boys were still fast asleep, snoring away, oblivious to his absence. 

Both managed to successfully go about their routine without raising suspicion and interrogation. 

While Rufio was happy with this routine, relieved that no one knew about it - or found out about his shameful nightmare - Wendy had her doubts. She debated on sharing her concern about the frequency of Rufio’s recurring nightmare; it only ever occurred once int he night, then, when she lulled him back to sleep, it didn’t return, although it did return to him the next night. The pattern of the nightmare seemed unnaturally consistent, but what kept her from telling a soul - even her king - was her son’s instance that he didn’t want anyone to know. He swore her to secrecy knowing full well that breaking a promise went against Mother’s principles. 

However, one trip would soon change all of that. 

One mild afternoon, one that was strangely temperate - not hot, nor cold - the Lost Boys were, as they often were, gathered in the glade where their camp resided. They were either sharpening their weapons or half-heartedly throwing their lighter weapons; arrows, daggers...  Wendy was sat closer to the edge of Camp, pretending she was fixated on patching up one of the boys’ torn item of clothing when she was actually watching Rufio every now and then from out of the corner of her eye. It amazed her, really, how his tiredness rarely ever showed in front of his brothers. Whether he was genuinely fully awake, or too stubborn to let even a shred of it show through, the girl had no way of knowing. 

All of a sudden, the camp’s occupants’ ears perked up upon the faint crowing sound that made itself known from out of nowhere. There wasn’t a soul int he clearing who didn’t know what that meant and so the Lost Boys instantly halted whatever it was they were doing in wait for their leader’s appearance. The only person who didn’t stop was Wendy. For, she was his queen, not his follower. 

Confirming their thoughts, Peter’s figure came into view, hovering above Camp before he lowered himself down; lower and lower until his boots eventually touched the ground below. There he was: clenched fists on his sides, arms bent at the elbows, back and legs straight, a certain glint in those green eyes. He was about to make an announcement. While getting on with her sewing, Wendy listened tentatively. 

All right boys, we have ourselves a new adventure, he started. 

Almost instantaneously, the boys all jumped to their feet, cheering, hurried over to their leader and crowded round him. The only Lost Boy who remained where he was, although turning his body round to face his leader and confirm he had his utmost attention, was Felix who was sat on his usual stump. 

What adventure, Father? Rufio asked curiously. 

That would ruin the fun. But, it is an important task that needs to be completed as well as it can. So, Felix, Rufio, Devin, Nibs, Slightly... 

He continued to name a few more. 

...you will all be coming with me. The rest of you will stay here to keep Mother company. I also expect you to continuing practising your skills while I’m gone, he said, eyeing each and every one of the Lost Boys that would be staying behind, an eyebrow raised. 

He narrowed his eyes as they started to groan with complaint. But, one glare was all it took to get them to shut their mouths. 

However, as he glared at the last one, Slightly, Peter’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Rufio was stood next to the boy and he didn’t hold that same adventurous, enthusiastic glint in his eyes. They were...concerned? Fearful, maybe? But of what? No matter the danger, Rufio had always been keen, one of the keenest, in fact, to go on an adventure outside of Neverland. But now...why the change of heart?  Confused, Peter turned his head to the side in hopes of getting answers from his queen. But, she wasn’t looking at her king. No. Instead, she was watching Rufio with caution and...concern? Did she know something Peter didn’t? The lack of knowledge frustrated him. But, never mind, he would get answers before he left. 

Slowly, the sun sank deeper into the horizon as the hours ticked on. Peter continued with the games and competitions and what started off as odd looks earlier that afternoon only got worse, the boy-king noticed. From out of the corner of his eye, during the competitions Rufio himself didn’t participate in, Peter caught him sitting beside Wendy and they were talking in hushed whispers. But, neither looked happy and Peter wondered what all that was about. 

It only got worse come supper. After conjuring up a long table with his magic, Peter watched in amusement as the boys all rushed over to it, the meat they’d recently hunted along with the fruits they’d picked already set out on its surface. Just as he was about to walk over to it, he felt a hand on his forearm stop him. He halted and turned to find Wendy looking up at him with a look in her eyes he couldn’t quite decipher.  After he raised an eyebrow quizzically, she enlightened him: 

Peter, I need to talk to you. 

What’s wrong? 

It’s about Rufio... 

What about him? 

For a moment, Wendy considered voicing her concerns, but that would mean coming clean about her secret nightly routine with their adopted son, leading to his nightmare. But, he had clearly told her he didn’t want anyone to know and she never broke her promises. So, she guarded her tongue. 

Are you sure it’s all right for him to go off to another realm? she asked carefully. 

Peter’s eyebrow raised higher. His queen was making no sense at all. 

Of course. You know I always look after them and they watch each other’s backs as well. He’ll be fine with me. 

That’s not what I mean...I just...don’t think it’s a good idea...

Peter could feel his frustration bubbling. 

Then why? Why don’t you want him to go? You were always fine with him coming with me to other realms before, he demanded. 

Wendy bit her lip. How could she keep her son near her, without raising suspicion? But that was the thing: she couldn’t. There was no excuse good enough - none that she could think of, anyway. 

You’re right. I...I don’t know why I thought that. Just...forget it. 

Although his eyes were doubtful, Peter decided to let the matter drop, to Wendy’s relief, and they advanced towards the table. All except Rufio looked at the pair questioningly. Again, Peter’s eyebrow raised; Rufio was usually just as curious as his brothers and he never bowed his head. 

As the boys and Wendy tucked into their supper, Peter thought to himself, What’s going on with these two tonight? 

If only he knew - and he was soon to find out...