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The Darling's Story	By : redhandedjill Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Het Views: 1583 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Darling's Story
- 2-George's Respect
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The Darling's Story

To be honest, I never thought that I'd write about the Darlings, mainly since it never really occurred to me to write about any PP character other than Hook and Wendy. But, as I was reading the book again, coming across the taking the medicine/Mr. Darling part, and I realized just how sweet and sad Mr. Darling really is. So proud and trying not to be an utter coward in front of his children. He may just be my favorite character (aside from Hook of course, but that goes without saying) of them all. But I thought that since they were such a sweet and darling couple in the first place, and was never really happy enough with the background they gave on their meeting, that I would write this little tale, which I hope will not be too long since I do have another story going! I imagine it won't be more than five parts, and so here is the first, even though it starts off short, and I hope you like it.
R.H.J.
Chapter 1: Mary's romantic mind
As you all know, before the story of Wendy, Peter Pan and all the wonderfully thrilling adventures in Neverland, there were the sweet Darlings, Mary and George, who had married simply because "the many gentleman who had been boys when she was a girl discovered simultaneously that they loved her, and they all ran to her house to propose to her except Mr. Darling, who took a cab and nipped in first, and so he got her."
But of course there is much more to this tale than has made mention of, for the focal part in the main story was of course the children and Peter Pan. But I find it a shame that the story of George and Mary was not more fully disclosed, and therefore I believe it only fair that their story should be told, the story of George and Mary's love.
To fully understand this whole story, I shall take you now to the months before these two even personally knew one another. To a time when love was young, and these two hadn't the faintest they'd ever find one another.
Mary Parrish sat upon her bed on a snowy and cold December night, her dark eyes flying to the flakes dancing outside her windowsill. It was a brilliantly dark night; with the wind so chilled it whipped around her face harshly. She enjoyed the sensation nonetheless, as she felt utterly safe there within the confines of her room, with the warm fire going.
If you were to look at Mary, you would deem her a sweet and gentle beauty. With a sweet mouth, large dark eyes and thick, rich dark hair. She was not thin, nor was she fat. She was not tall and she was not short. She had the look of health about her, and had outer and inner grace, and she was impossibly kind to everyone she met. If you scoured the whole of London, you would not be able to find one person who would speak ill of her. For she was favored by all.
Along the ledge of the fireplace in dear Mary’s room, there was several drawing she herself had drawn when fairly young. Her mother kept them in her room, thinking them to be most accomplished, considering the age of when she had drawn them. If you were to look at them now you would easily identify one as a family dog, and another of a proud looking fairy, and if you looked ever so closely, you could almost see the faint outlines of a boy's shadow on a rock face in front of a wary looking mermaid.
Mary was a romantic girl, filled with fancy and dreams of various romantic things. She thought of daring rescues of princesses within towers, of sleeping beauty and Cinderella. She thought of beautiful gowns she would wear were she Cinderella, and sometimes, she would dream of what her Prince Charming would be like.
As with most girls, her dream would be tall, with piercing eyes and a wonderful smile. He would be kind and sweet and good with numbers (since she was so dreadful with them), and he would love her just as much as she loved him.
She thought of exploring as well ever so often, all over the world. She so longed to see France, and of Italy and grand adventures, and when it came to that topic, she would get very strange and quiet, as if remembering something.
You see it's much like knowing someone when you are quite young, being grand friends and then never seeing them again. They pop up every now and again, and you can almost picture the way their face looked, even though it's blurry, and they seem familiar and at the same time strange.
Sometimes Mary would sit at her windowsill, looking out at the stars and singing softly to herself. She did not know exactly what she was waiting for. Sometimes, just briefly, she felt as if she remembered the name of a boy she knew long ago, one that could fly. But then these grown up thoughts would suddenly pop up, and the boy's name would float away and she wouldn't think about him for months at a time and then eventually, not at all.
And so you would think that for a girl who had such romantic thoughts and feelings so often, Mary would have been an ideal candidate for marriage. Well, perhaps if she'd been given any options in the entire arrangement she would have been more forthcoming. For at times she did dream of marriage and children, but they were soon ruined.
For orders had been made, and in the form of a narrow-minded mother.
"Marriage is to expected at your age, Mary." Margaret insisted, looking to her daughter with exasperation on hours before in the drawing room. They had been there for several minutes, quietly arguing before Mary’s father returned from work. The sullen young girl looked to her mother, trying to be calm about the situation herself.
"But I am far too young, mother." Mary argued gently with a waning smile. Her smile was so sweetly demure that her parents often found it difficult to argue with he. "Why, I am not yet nineteen."
"Oh do stop boasting of your endless youth!" Margaret insisted almost desperately, for she loved her daughter dearly. “It only tries my nerves!”
Mary was her only child due to complications and therefore a very coveted child. But in that, she and her husband expected only the best for her. They had her tutored on things she would need when married, taught her to sew and play the piano, and how to hold polite conversation.
"Please understand my dear," Her mother attempted a little more gentle as she spoke, “You are beautiful, accomplished, coming of age, and need to be married before your twenty first birthday.”
“But I have no suitors.” Mary commented confused and a little embarrassed at the situation. Why, half of her childhood friends were married, some happily and some not. “Why can I not choose my husband? I don’t even know-“
“All girls are married far before then.” Mrs. Parrish interrupted the young girl hurriedly. You see, she felt bad for her daughter and what she was doing to her. She herself had been married at eighteen, and had not regretted the arrangement, though Mr. Parrish did work long hours now. But the main point was, time was running out for Mary and in turn, she needed to be married soon.
Mrs. Parrish found that Mary was so beautiful and kind (as all mothers think their children are), and yet no young men seemed forward enough to ask for her hand in marriage. What is it about a kind and sweet girl that frightens men so?
“I am being more than lenient in the matter.” Mary’s mother added, “And besides, if you do not marry soon Mary, you shall end up a spinster like your Aunt Jane!"
Ah yes, Aunt Jane.
Now, Mary did not think that her dearest Aunt Jane was all that horrid. In fact, she was one of the nicest, most entertaining people she'd ever met. Aunt Jane whom was about thirty-five, was highly well off, and owned a large mansion on the other side of Kensington gardens. She had saved all the money she ever earned in the bank, and worked hard all her life. She was Mr. Parrish’s sister, and she and Mrs. Parrish had never really gotten along all that well.
In the summers ever since she had turned ten, Mary was permitted a two week stay in the aforementioned mansion, to play and have all fun she liked. Aunt Jane would tell her frightening stories before bed, and they would eat delicious cakes, sometimes attend plays, and at least once, her Aunt would take her out to buy clothing for the upcoming fall and winter season.
Those two weeks in the summer were what Mary valued most of all.
"And now," Margaret was continuing, breaking Mary from her happy thoughts. "All your friends are getting engaged and soon married. Do you wish to be the only one alone?"
"No, mother." Mary admitted reluctantly, "But I do not wish to make a mistake."
"Mistake?"
"Well," Mary began rather diplomatically, "My friend Eleanor is engaged to Robert Alvan, as you know."
"Yes, I do."
"And," Mary added rather slowly, "she is only marrying him for his money. Why he is already twenty years her senior, and I know she does not truly care for him."
"And?"
Mary looked to her mother in surprise, "She’s marrying for status, mother. Not for love."
"Love?" At this Margaret began to laugh slightly, and her smile too was kind at times, but not now. "Mary, darling, I must explain this to you. Marriage is not always about love. It is about finding a suitable match to support you and your family. Love is not all there is."
"Well I think that is a mistake." Mary said firmly, "I think to marry for any reason other than love is a grand mistake."
"Naive little one." Her mother said almost kindly as she came to pat the girl softly on the shoulder. "I do this with your best intentions, you do believe that don't you?"
"Yes mother." Mary answered dimly, for she was a sweet and obedient girl, who wished to please everyone she loved. And so she talked a long while with her mother, of suitors she would meet, and of how to act and what to say before Mary offered a sad goodnight and left. She rushed up to her room and clamored into her large bed with the nightlight still on beside her.
You have to understand, that Mary's family was very well off. Her father was a successful businessman, and her mother fully intended for Mary to continue to have the best in life. She didn't understand however, that the best for a girl like Mary was to have love above all things. They were respected in society, and Mary knew this was important to them.
Mr. Parrish was a quiet man, but a man of great kindness who had dark eyes like Mary. He worked late and long hours and he never spoke to her of the things her mother had, but Mary assumed the two conspired about the topic of marriage long before the talk this evening.
Mary lay in bed for a long while, looking to various trinkets and clothes. She realized she was well off, and very lucky for loving parents, even if they did try too hard at times. But still there was something nagging within her, something that didn't let her fully rest.
Prayers, Mary decided with a nod as she kneeled beside her bed, her hands clasped and her eyes gently closed. That's why I cannot sleep.
And so Mary said her prayers, her heart hopeful and her prayers ardent. She prayed for the safety of her family, she prayed for her parents to be more understanding, and most of all she prayed that she would meet the man she felt she was destined to meet. Her perfect match.
You see, while Mary did not want to marry at her parent's instance, she did not wish to remain alone forever. Surely she had envisioned marriage, children to tell stories to, of her handsome, adoring husband. Yes, Mary did wish for marriage, but surely not any of the suitors that her parents would force upon her.
She hadn't met any boys she found kind and sweet and funny enough for her. She didn't like to think herself too picky, but she was looking for someone special. Someone that would make her feel that certain flip within her stomach.
Becoming soon restless after crawling back into bed, Mary went to the window where we first encountered her. She was searching the sky with her eyes, as if asking for some silent guidance. There was none to speak of, not yet.
But suddenly, something welled within Mary, and she stood, opening the window of the room so widely that the snow began to filter into her room. It was cold and suddenly so silent, but Mary didn't care. The streets below were still busy, and the lights on the ground below hadn't yet been snuffed out.
"I shall marry only for love." Mary called out her window as the flakes stuck to her hair and nightgown. Suddenly, Mary heard as the large bell began to toll, startling and pleasing her all at once.
"It is fated."
Her smile was suddenly wide as she spoke, and she was increasingly breathless with contentment at her statement for it had to be true. She'd had her cosmic sign. And suddenly she knew the answer to her problem.
She would simply find her fated companion herself!
Surely it couldn’t be that hard? She would simply look for him, as she hadn’t been that intent on looking for him before. She’d stop these childish dreams of romantic meetings and simply look for her perfect match. She knew she’d know it was he the moment that her eyes lay on him.
Then she was sleepy with this disclosure, having suddenly become lighter with this observed wish. And so she crawled back into her bed, almost ready to fall asleep. Although, a small part of Mary wondered what if she didn’t look hard enough for her fated husband? What if she missed him?
And so Mary Parrish slipped into deep and contended slumber, her mind almost completely at ease, not even knowing that her perfectly fated match slept then too, in the very town where she lived, with similar thoughts to her.
But it would be several months before Mary ever met him.
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The Darling's Story