#geez orion looks so different without his facial hair LOL

[carewyncromwell]

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star, So we'll know where you are --  Gleaming in the skies above, Lead me to the one who loves me...”

~“The Second Star to the Right (cover),” by Simone

x~x~x~x

HEY PETER PAN ANON! I MADE YOU SOMETHING!! 8D

Hahaha, yes! This is Peter-Pan!Orion and Wendy!Carewyn (Carewyndy?). No, I won’t be writing this AU before the Tangled AU at least (and yes, I should have that up hopefully by next week)...but I couldn’t resist doodling these and talking a bit about the daydreaming I did based on this concept. Orion’s ripped pants were kind of based on how the pants are ripped in the 2003 Peter Pan’s costume, but I just couldn’t resist giving him his canon fingerless armwarmers. (I see them being forest green just like his pants, though, while his tunic is a light tan.)

Basically I see eternally 12-1/2-year old Orion Amari taking a strong liking to 10-year-old Carewyn Cromwell when she comes to Neverland. Even though she does act a bit too grown-up sometimes, it’s largely because of how deeply she feels for other people -- she’s determined to protect others, whether from bullying or actual danger, and she hates the thought of anyone feeling alone. She actually is the only person who’s ever asked Orion if he was lonely, being the only child who was destined to never grow up. And as much as Orion will airily state that “to die would be an awfully big adventure,” he finds that it’s Carewyn who believes this most, for the idea of growing older doesn’t frighten her the way it does her grandfather, the man now called Captain Hook. If anything, what makes her saddest about leaving Neverland is not for her sake, but for Orion’s -- she, Jacob, Charlie, and Bill were all going home to London, along with a good chunk of Orion’s friends among the Lost Kids...and Carewyn hated the thought that she’d never see her friend Orion again. So she reminded Orion that she would always have her window open at night, if he ever wanted to come and visit, hear her read a story or two, or even just listen to her singing while she did her evening chores. Sensing Orion’s hesitance, she reassured him that she’d never forget him. 

Orion proceeded to return to life in Neverland, embarking on those same old adventures that make the days blur and make it easy to forget things. Forgetting was part of Neverland’s magic -- even Bill had almost forgotten he had a new baby sister back in London, when he, Charlie, and Carewyn had been there with Orion and the Lost Kids. But, as Orion would often tell himself, adults forgot things in the other world too: they forgot the joys of childhood, they forgot the freedom and the simple pleasures and the bottomless daydreams. All of them, every last one of them, eventually forgot how to fly. 

But perhaps because of Carewyn’s final promise, every time Orion thought of how easy it was to forget things in Neverland, and therefore how easy it was to forget things outside of it, Carewyn’s face and words always returned to his mind. And so, the memory of her conviction and caring never strayed too far from his mind...and with it, other thoughts would crop up too. How stable things had been, when Carewyn was around. How well she understood him and how easy it was to talk to her and trust in her. And it was then that Orion realized that he really, truly missed Carewyn. It was a feeling he’d never really experienced that deeply before, not even for the other children who had eventually returned home to their families. Even Bill and Charlie, who Orion likewise grew reasonably fond of, didn’t make him feel like his stomach was always empty, no matter how much food he ate -- like his heart was scraping at the inside of his chest like a hungry animal desperate to devour something outside its cage. And that feeling only intensified when his fairy guardian Merula would try to urge him to go challenge Torvus and the centaurs to a race or splash around with the mermaids, even when Orion wasn’t in the mood to do so. 

Orion felt restless, unsure of quite what was wrong with him and not knowing how to explain his muddled thought process to McNully and his remaining Lost Kids. One day Orion was eventually persuaded by McNully to lead an expedition to find a lost chest of pirate treasure, and for a short while, the Boy Who Never Grew Up was simply able to enjoy pulling one over on his old enemy and sharing the loot with his gang. That changed, though, when Captain Hook crashed the party. 

Orion and Hook traded as many blows as ever, throwing insults at each other like they always did -- but this day, Hook said one barbed phrase that stuck in Orion’s ear more than he ever would’ve admitted.

“Already forgotten my dear Winnie, I see. But I guess I can’t be surprised. After all, the only thing that can break through Neverland’s curse -- that thing that makes everyone forget...is love. And you -- ha -- you don’t know anything about that, do you, boy?”

Love. Yes. That was the thing that made Carewyn remember her lost brother and mother, even while she was a Lost Girl. That was the thing that had made Charlie remember his parents, even after he’d forgotten London altogether. That was the thing that made Bill remember his other siblings, once he remembered how his baby sister Ginny would always cry after her afternoon nap until he came home from his newspaper route and bounced her up and down for a minute or two. That was the thing that had made Jacob remember his little sister in London, even after he was kidnapped by Hook and commandeered into piracy. And, Orion realized, it was the thing that he missed most about Carewyn -- her ability to love more deeply than anyone else he had ever known...like a mother would, and yet like an equal...a companion, more than just someone to go on adventures with. 

Orion tried to broach this topic with Merula, but the huffy little fairy put up her walls and stubbornly refused to let them down. Feelings were grown-up things, and Orion didn’t need grown-up things! Orion wanted to agree, but the feelings he felt were becoming heavy -- so heavy, in fact, that he found it harder for him to find his center, to think thoughts happy enough that he could fly to any height he wanted. He actually found himself hovering and floating more than flying...and this troubled him. It made him more anxious than he could remember ever being. 

Then the thought struck him -- why didn’t he just go and visit Carewyn? She said he could, whenever he wanted. She could tell him some stories and sing some songs for him -- maybe she could even sew him a new pocket for his shirt! These thoughts perked Orion up a bit, and he decided to leave for London straightaway. 

He hadn’t expected it to be so cold -- for you see, in Neverland, it’s every season all year ‘round, all except winter. It was a fact Carewyn had lamented, for winter was her favorite season. She loved the Christmas holidays and how everyone would gather around the fireplace with warm food together and sing Christmas songs and tell stories. It had actually sounded kind of nice to Orion, when she described it to him and the Lost Kids -- but on this day in London, Orion didn’t think the cold was so nice, nor the gray, dreary city itself. There were buildings that had been crushed and holes in cobblestone streets, made by bombs that had been dropped by German Zeppelins, and just about nobody raised their heads enough to look skyward. The adults prowling the streets were just as lacking of joy as Orion had always imagined them to be, yet it wasn’t due to stupid grown-up things like wearing a tie to work or paying bills. Instead there was exhaustion, sadness...pain. Orion hated these people’s wrinkles even more than the ones he’d see on the pirates’ faces, from dwelling on mindless things like how much treasure they had or what their daily duties were. 

But none of that mattered, of course. What mattered was seeing Carewyn. But alas, when Orion arrived at the Weasleys’ house, it was still daytime...and the window to the room Carewyn, Bill, and Charlie once shared was locked. 

Orion rattled at the window desperately, slapping the glass and pulling at its handles as he cried her name. All logic left his mind -- his breathing became raspier and weaker even as he shouted louder. 

She had to be there -- she had to be there -- she couldn’t have forgotten -- she wouldn’t have forgotten -- she promised -- she promised she wouldn’t forget him -- love was what kept someone from forgetting -- Carewyn knew love better than anyone -- she loved her brother -- she loved the Weasleys -- she loved the Lost Kids and Torvus and the mermaids and the fairies -- she loved Orion -- didn’t she love -- ?

As Orion’s anxiety spiked, the magic of Merula’s fairy dust began to abandon him. He found himself becoming heavier. He tried to cling onto the windowsill, pulling at and smacking the window, but it wasn’t wide enough for him to hold onto while it was closed. Soon enough he found himself falling slowly, like someone drifting down to the bottom of a pool...and when he landed on the ground, he landed on his knees, shaking. He clasped his hands together, his eyes wide and hollow upon the frosty ground as wintry condensation fell from his panting lips. 

He’d lost his happy thought. He’d lost it. 

He tried to fly. He tried desperately to fly, only to fall and scrape his knees and hands. Never in his life had Orion Amari ever been so frightened, shuddering from head to toe in the freezing cold. 

He shakily got to his bare feet and, barely knowing where he was going, he walked. He wandered aimlessly, his eyes glassing over as he gasped for air, searching every revolted and anxious face that he passed as the faces’ owners cringed at the state of his long hair, ripped clothes, and lack of shoes. 

Orion wandered for what felt like hours, until at long last, as if by fate, he ended up not far away from a Church-funded school, which taught both elementary and higher-elementary-level students. One of those such students was a girl with a ginger braid and almond-shaped blue eyes, walking home with several classmates, including a black-haired girl with glasses carrying a bunch of books, a rather pretty blonde with pigtail braids, and a rather cowardly-looking boy with blond hair, brown eyes, and a very thick sweater and mittens over his Church-provided uniform. The ginger-haired girl herself was wrapped up in a rather thick old dark blue blanket she’d turned into a shawl after it got ripped and had been holding it tightly around herself when, all of a sudden, she heard her name being cried by a misty, and yet anxious voice. 

“Carewyn! Carewyn...!”

One can only imagine what Carewyn’s school friends Rowan Khanna, Penny Haywood, and Ben Copper thought, seeing such a scrawny, ragamuffin street boy running toward their friend. Rowan actually tried to step in front of Carewyn as if to protect her, while Ben made as if to cling onto Carewyn’s arm in terror. But Carewyn herself, her eyes very wide upon the boy, immediately tore away from both Rowan and Ben and ran to Orion without a single shred of hesitation. 

“Orion?!”

She barreled over, whipping the shawl off her shoulders and wrapping it around his instead. 

“Orion, what are you doing here?! You’re going to catch a death of cold!”

Orion hadn’t been able to stop shaking for an instant, but her shouting his name, rushing to take care of him -- her remembering him -- it made his heart feel like a beast craving food again. Her concern wet his appetite. He wanted it. He wanted her caring. He wanted her love...

She was as tall as him. She’d been so tiny before...

“Carewyn...you know this boy?” asked Rowan, looking bewildered.

“Yes,” said Carewyn, glancing over her shoulder, “he’s a friend. Rowan, this is Orion. Orion, this is -- ”

“You’ve...grown older,” Orion’s absent mumble cut her off. 

Carewyn fixed him with a faintly reproachful look. “I’m afraid that does happen, in the span of three years...”

Thirteen. She was thirteen. ...She was older than him.

Carewyn’s eyes welled up with concern as she looked Orion over. She turned to her friends quickly. 

“...I’d better get him inside and warm...I’ll see you all tomorrow, okay?”

She quickly bid her friends goodbye, before wrapping an arm tightly around Orion’s shoulders as best she could, rubbing his arm through her shawl in an attempt to warm him. 

“Orion, what were you thinking?” she whispered, her voice full of concern as her eyes stayed locked ahead at their path. “Coming here in broad daylight, in this cold...”

Orion had started to shake again, his hands clasping more tightly. 

“Your window was shut,” he mumbled. 

Carewyn looked very upset. “...My old window, you mean? The one I shared with Bill and Charlie? Oh, Orion, I don’t share a room with Bill and Charlie anymore -- I share with Ginny now. Girls’ room, you know. Charlie and Percy actually share that room now...Bill’s sharing a flat with several other boys, closer to the newspaper’s headquarters in the East End...” 

Her eyes rippled with pain. 

“...Ginny’s and my room doesn’t have a window,” she explained. “I’ve told Charlie and Percy to keep their window open for me, but...well, Percy’s grown up way too fast. He must have closed it to block out the air raid sirens last night and forgotten to reopen it...”

Orion didn’t understand half of what Carewyn was saying, but the tone she spoke with held such reassurance and remorse that it soothed the racing anxiety that had so paralyzed him. He closed his eyes as the adrenaline his anxiety had built up ebbed away, leaving him oddly drained and colder than ever. He was so out of it that he barely seemed to acknowledge that his head flopped down onto her shoulder. 

“Orion?” said Carewyn, startled and worried. 

But Orion merely inhaled and exhaled slowly. Her caring fed that beast in his chest. He wanted a bit more. 

“Carewyn,” he murmured, “did...did you think of me?”

He felt Carewyn adjust her arm around him. 

“Of course I did,” she said softly. “I told you I would never forget you.”

The tenseness in Orion’s clasped hands and face loosened its grasp. “...Because you love me.”

Carewyn looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “What?”

But Orion barely reacted -- as if he didn’t think what he’d said was the least bit weird. 

“There’s only one thing that can prevent someone from forgetting...and that’s love. For once you love someone, your heart never really forgets them. Instead they become part of you...an indispensable piece...that would make you feel incomplete, if it was ever removed.”

Orion slowly opened his eyes, his lips spreading into a small, rather soft smile that made him look a bit more like his usual self. 

“...It’s what helped you remember your brother and the Weasleys, while you were with me...and your brother remember you, while he was with Hook,” he said. “It’s something I know nothing about...but I know you know it very well.”

Carewyn considered him for a moment, before returning her gaze back to the road. Plenty of people passing by gave her and Orion the side-eye, but she didn’t care. 

“I don’t know if I’d say you know nothing about it,” she said at last. “You remembered me just as much as I remembered you, did you not?”

Orion’s smile faded from his lips as his eyes widened ever-so-slightly. Then his expression slowly relaxed.

“...Perhaps...”

His black eyes trailed over her arm around his shoulders and her hand rubbing up and down his arm hesitantly. His arm beside her chest twitched slightly -- then, very, very tentatively, he tried to wrap his arm around her shoulders in return. It was a bit awkward, with the shawl wrapped around him...but once Carewyn sussed out what he was doing, she adjusted enough to give the shawl enough slack that he could successfully hold her in return. Once he had gotten his arm around her, he seemed oddly proud of himself, his smile spreading and his eyes closing again as he leaned into her, his head beside hers on her shoulder. 

They stayed that way for several blocks, walking in silence and simply enjoying each others’ company. Orion felt his center of balance returning to him. It was like having this stable place, with his arms wrapped around Carewyn’s shoulders and hers around his, was the earth he needed under his feet to launch himself back up into the air. He felt like he might even be able to fly again at some point...maybe not yet, but soon. Time always moved more slowly in Neverland than in London anyhow, so no one would mind if he took his time...

“...Carewyn?” 

“Hmm?”

“I...don’t know if I can make it back to Neverland,” he confessed. 

Carewyn looked at him, her eyes once again flooding with concern. 

“I fell, when I failed to open your window,” Orion explained. “I’ve only ever fallen like that once before...when...”

“...When Grandfather made you think unhappy thoughts,” Carewyn finished grimly. She turned away from him, facing the road again. 

Orion nodded. His black eyes flickered across her face, even though she was no longer looking at him. 

Hook had taunted him then that Carewyn had no reason to stay in Neverland -- that she preferred the thought of growing old and dying to staying with him -- that he could never meet her high standards. He’d taunted that one day, Orion would go back to find her window locked and barred -- a grown woman who’s forgotten all about him, about Neverland, about how to fly...who’s replaced all of it with adult things Orion could never understand. Ambition. Family. ...Husband. 

Carewyn wasn’t an adult yet, but she certainly wasn’t a child anymore either. There was a practicality to her posture -- a steadiness and gravity to how she walked. There was a neatness and meticulousness in how she handled her appearance. And yet even so, her hands were still so warm and her eyes were still so soft...and the sincerity in the little wrinkles that creased her brow and eyes and kissed at the corners of her lips was just the same. 

Carewyn raised her head in Orion’s direction, but her eyes couldn’t quite reach his. Instead they landed vaguely on his shoulder. 

“...I never told you...Grandfather was wrong, did I?” she asked quietly. 

Orion tilted his head. “...I suppose it depends on which thing he said that you’re thinking of. You did say you’d never forget me, or Neverland...or how to fly.”

“Yes,” said Carewyn, “but I didn’t say that he was wrong, that you’d never understand ambition or family. That’s definitely not true. Ambition isn’t just an adult thing -- you dream of never growing up, of never losing your freedom or your independence...your spirit. That’s a wonderful ambition. And you have a wonderful family too, in Neverland. The centaurs and mermaids -- Merula and the fairies -- the Lost Kids! You take care of them as if they were your family.”

Orion stared at her for a moment, his face very unreadable, but his black eyes rippling with a strange emotion. Then he curled his fingers into the puffy white sleeve of her shirt. 

“...And...the last thing?” he asked softly. “‘Husband?’”

Carewyn frowned deeply. “Is marriage something you even want to understand?”

“No!” said Orion instantly, looking revolted. “No...but...well...”

He swallowed, his own gaze drifting away. “...If you grow up...you’ll eventually want one, won’t you?”

Carewyn cocked her brows coolly. “It’s possible. But honestly, marriage seems like a bit of a bother. I’ve had to answer to plenty of adults in my life: I’d hate to have to answer to one more by choice. Especially if it means I have to give up Jacob, my friends, and my dreams just to make him comfortable.”

She said this so huffily, and yet it comforted Orion more than he could ever properly express. His own chest seemed to lighten and he felt better able to breathe again. His eyes softened upon Carewyn’s face. 

“...I see.”

The two finally reached the Weasley home again. Orion noticed the house across the street that Carewyn had once pointed out was hers and Jacob’s had been boarded up. 

“It’ll get torn down soon,” said Carewyn, noticing Orion’s gaze. “The family that lived there had their house ransacked, just because they were German...”

Her eyes narrowed. 

“...It’s disgusting, how they were treated,” she added to herself. “They were very nice to Jacob and me, when we first came home...”

“Where is your brother?” asked Orion. 

Carewyn deflated. 

“...The war front,” she said sadly. “He’d been saving up so we could move into our own place, but...well, the army needed soldiers, so both he and Mr. Weasley signed up. Mrs. Weasley let me stay here, so I wouldn’t have to struggle to find a place to stay myself.”

Orion felt something oddly like pity prickling at his chest. “You mean you’ve lost him again, after only just getting him back?”

Carewyn didn’t answer as she opened the door of the Weasley home and bustled him inside. Once the door was closed, she guided him over to the main room and into an armchair, wrapping several more blankets around him. 

“Wait here,” she said. Her lips spread into a fuller smile. “I’ll make you some hot cocoa -- that’s sure to help you fly again.”

Orion felt his heart give a somersault. 

“Do you remember?” he said very quickly, before she could leave the room. “...Do you remember how to fly?”

Carewyn beamed. 

“Of course. All you need is faith and trust, and to have been brushed with fairy dust. Then you think happy, wonderful thoughts, and...”

She spread her arms, and -- amazingly -- her feet actually came up off the ground.

Orion’s black eyes widened. Then his mouth slowly spread into the fullest, brightest smile as he found himself coming up off the ground himself. He floated just below her, spreading both of his arms too so as to take her hands and hold them out on either side of them.

Even when the world was so miserable -- even when she had so much reason to forget...Carewyn still knew how to fly. 

“You’re flying,” said Carewyn with a warm smile. 

Orion’s eyes sparkled as he guided her around in a circle, just as he had when they danced with the fairies. “I found a happy thought.”

“Did you? What is it?”

“A person whose company makes you feel stronger, when you’re at your worst.”

Carewyn smiled. “I believe that’s what’s called a ‘friend,’ Orion Amari.”

Orion’s midnight-black eyes gleamed.

Yes. A friend. Not just someone to go on adventures with, or look after, or play make-believe with, or give direction -- but someone to be your shoulder to lean on. To listen, to comfort...to love. That was a friend. As much as he cherished the Lost Kids, he was the one who had found them -- they answered to him, seeing him as leader, since there was supposedly no one else who could. 

This friend...he wanted this friend by his side forever. “Forever,” as Carewyn had once reminded him, was an awfully long time -- but he didn’t hesitate in this thought at all. 

And so, not long after, the Boy Who Never Grew Up returned to Neverland. He passed his mantle of leadership onto Lost Boy McNully, said a quick goodbye to all of the members of his Neverland family...and decided to leave for good. Even his short trip back to the Second Star to the Right took up a few weeks, but when he returned to London, his friend was waiting for him. And Orion and Carewyn grew up together, as close of friends as teenagers and later adults as they were as children. Orion grew more than just a fraction of an inch -- he soon towered a good head over Carewyn once more. He even grew a mustache, and a beard too! And yet even with this, it was never beneath his dignity to climb a tree, nor to engage in food fights, nor to read adventure books about pirates, nor to crow like a rooster upon winning a game. No matter how much his other classmates at school would frown, and no matter how much the adults would disdain and scold him, Orion never cared -- and neither did Carewyn, or Bill or Charlie, or any of the other friends he made over the years. 

So you see, even if Orion grew older, he never truly grew up...for all children grow up, except one. And one day -- many, many years down the road from when Orion first made the choice to stay -- he looked at Carewyn and realized that his first and dearest friend had become something even more precious: a friend he wished to love, cherish, and live beside far longer than forever. A friend he would call “lover.” 

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #peter pan au #my art #my writing #orion amari #carewyn cromwell #damn it I didn't mean this to be so long but I just couldn't stop XD #my two favorite peter pan adaptations are peter pan (2003) and hook so that DEFINITELY influenced this #I'm sorry but I think peter finding a reason to grow up is sweet #I know there's the whole fan interpretation of peter guiding dead children to the afterlife and all but... #well we see kids leave neverland not just the darlings but the lost boys #and honestly hook is right in the 2003 version -- peter IS a tragedy as he is! #in the end he'll always end up alone #so really eventually every child *should* grow up...it's a scary thing but something that must be faced anyway #because through that hardship one can find even more fulfilling happiness #because it's happiness that's fought for #that's my two cents anyway XD; #geez orion looks so different without his facial hair LOL