Work Text:
two young women stood in a field, both staring at each other as if looking at something celestial. the sun was warming their skin, the wind picking up their hair and the leaves as it rolled through the forest. assorted wild flowers grew in the grass and from afar, it was quite a lovely picture.
“i’m alice,” the blonde girl said, extending her hand politely.
the brunette hesitated for only the half second it took for a smile to appear on her face. their hands linked, shaking twice with a light squeeze.
“wendy.”
for a minute, neither of them spoke. they were similar in ways they didn’t know yet, in ways they might never really know at all. for now, they took in their differences. while wendy wore brown trousers and a green shirt, alice was in a blue romper that fell to her shins with a white ribbon strung around her waist. curly chestnut hair in a bun next to sleek corn-blonde hair in a black headband. where wendy had sharp cheekbones and jawlines, alice was soft and rounded.
“what are you doing out here?” alice asked now, drawing wendy’s attention from a fat gray tabby in a tree and back to her bright blue eyes.
wendy picked up her shoulders and dropped them, her messenger bag rattling.
“nothing.”
alice grinned.
“me too.”
a sparkle passed between them in that moment, and they trudged off over the hill together, walking along the treeline.
“it’s very nice to hang out with another girl,” wendy finally got herself to say. “i spend much too much time with my brothers, and my other friends were all boys as well. i usually come out here to be alone.”
“that’s funny,” alice chuckled. “it’s usually just me and my cat, he likes to come and go, but when he ran away today i decided i didn’t want to be alone. i followed him and found you. isn’t that interesting?”
they walked some more, eventually wandering underneath the trees.
when wendy was a girl, almost ten years ago now, she remembers the butterflies peter pan gave her. walking with alice now she felt the same sensation in her stomach and wondered if perhaps she was entering another new realm. she had long since realized that the “love” she felt for peter wasn’t real, and it had to have been the feeling of adventure that she had been chasing for all these years.
if she was lucky, alice giving her that same feeling again would be a good thing.
alice lead them to a dark, knotted old tree that was so big around wendy couldn’t touch her fingers together in a hug with it. they sat at the bottom, breathing in deep the scent of the forest.
“are you a fairy?” the words practically fell out of wendy’s mouth, and she bit her bottom lip with a nervous grin immediately after asking. how childish.
alice did giggle, but it wasn’t a malicious sound. if anything, wendy almost thought she had guessed correctly.
“no, but i’ve met some,” the blonde girl had long since given up on appearing mad. “have you?”
wendy wanted to cry. maybe it was the sunlight on that blonde hair, or the way alice’s voice was so genuine in her question. nobody had taken even pretended to take her this seriously since she was a girl, but now here she was, years and years later feeling… something. she hadn’t felt this something since she was in neverland.
“i have! i’ve seen mermaids, too,” wendy gushed. alice’s smile grew wide. “i want to hear about the fairies you’ve seen.”
“more than just fairies, i don’t even know what to call some of the things i’ve seen.”
they sit there in the grass and talk, letting the childhood stories pour like dinner wine. though alice had never given up on trying to tell people about wonderland, and while wendy kept neverland in her diaries, the girls were able to talk with a clarity they had never felt before.
they talk of queens and pirates and monsters and crocodiles and rabbits and fairies and mermaids, they talk of loneliness. wendy talks about fairy dust, alice talks about juice and cake. large, hollowed trees teeming and glowing with life, a garden of roses that you could get lost in for days. deranged, broken hat makers and immature lost boys.
an unnaturally blue butterfly floats more than flies around them, and alice dives into a story of a smoking caterpillar.
they continue to walk, sometimes finding an area so pretty they sit for a while and bask in the feeling of it. wendy climbs trees and wields sticks as swords, alice pulls a chocolate bar from her pocket and the two of them share.
when the sun sinks down after the best day wendy has had in ages, the two of them find themselves back at the top of the hill where they met.
“can we do this again?” wendy asked, hoping she didn’t sound desperate. “i’ll bring a picnic.”
now it’s alice’s turn to hesitate. it had been a long time since anybody had sought out her company– she wasn’t even in school for her parents fear that she wasn’t stable enough to be so socialized. it bothered her some days more than others.
“i would be delighted to do this again,” alice said with a dramatic curtsy. “i’ll bring tea.”
-
wendy extends an arm straight up above them, pointing into the night sky.
“that star there? that’s the one you follow to neverland,” wendy explained, whispering out of habit despite the fact that they were alone.
“you really flew?” alice asked reverently, turning her head to face the other girl.
“oh, how i loved to fly,” wendy sighed wistfully. “i… i’d give anything to go back. i’d give the whole world.”
her arm fell back to earth, and she dug her fingers into the grass and dirt beneath her. a trick she’d taught herself years ago, when she felt herself daydreaming too much and needed to ground herself. then there was alice, her soft palm finding and covering wendy’s hand before linking their fingers together. wendy left her hand limp for a moment before tightening her grip.
“you would love wonderland,” alice whispered. “if only we weren’t old.”
old. wendy barely stifled a giggle, her free hand coming to cover her mouth, but she eventually couldn’t help but laugh. the sound was infectious and alice joined in unquestioningly. without letting go of each others hands, they lay there laughing in the dark for what could’ve been hours.
“old!” wendy finally managed to scoff. “i’m not old but i’m not… a child anymore. and i say it with sadness. i feel as though i’ve lost a piece of myself.”
wendy turned to alice and for the first time, saw confusion.
“you don’t seem to be missing any pieces to me,” alice said, slowly smiling and scooting a bit closer. “i think part of us is young forever. i think i’ll always be a little girl in wonderland, on the inside.”
she had that feeling like she wanted to cry again, and squeezed alice’s hand. forget neverland, grow up, go to university, marry a man, become a mother. recently she had begun to realize that even as a girl in neverland, she would’ve been doomed to be the mother figure to all those lost boys. her parents wanted her to be the mature little girl she used to be, wanted her to write about things less frivolous than imaginary worlds.
“you’re wonderful,” wendy sighed. “you’re the strangest girl i’ve ever met.”
“i like you a lot, too.”
-
“what was flying like?” alice asked one night.
after months of each others company this was the third total time they had ever chosen to spend time inside, the rain too strong for anything to be enjoyable. the day spent in wendy’s flat was magical- neither girl had ever felt so safe from the outside world. they baked bread and drank tea and wendy read alice her stories and alice painted them out. they drank wine by the fire as the rain slowly petered out, falling into each other on the rug. they moved to the bed later.
the window was open, wind blowing through the thin curtains to show slices of the starry sky. legs and arms tangled together under the cool sheets, faces close enough to count the freckles on each others cheeks. sweat on foreheads and blushes that wouldn’t fade. wendy smiled.
“it wasn’t as nice as this.”