The heart of the truest believer, the recorder of fates and heir to one of the most powerful thrones in the Enchanted forest. Even Pan, whose unwavering faith in the youth of the world defined him, could hardly believe that all that power belonged to the downhearted but admittedly dapper twelve year old boy who sat before him.
Henry was an odd sort. Pan could feel that thirst for adventure brimming in the boy, he could even detect a sense of desire to join in whenever the boys announced the start of a new game. His head would pique up, his eyes would get that glistening look of excitement. Yet, despite Pan's attempts to get him to play, he remained sitting, by himself, at the deserted campsite.
It was frustrating. The worst kind of frustrating, really. The type that only exists because the parties involved will it into being.
Pan remained confident, though, that Henry could give him what he wanted and he was so excited by the new information he had acquired about the boy that the sight of him once again abstaining from another game, caused him only to shake his head.
He fiddled with the twig like object in his hand, twirling it around his fingers and smirked wider. It almost felt like cheating, how easy this would be, and for a moment Pan lamented the the loss of risk that went with this change in plans. But the stakes were too high to allow for more chance of failure then absolutely necessary.
He crept up behind the boy. Walking slowly toward him with mischievous grin on his face. Standing directly behind Henry and he still hadn't noticed. The boy would really have to work on that if he was ever going to be a full fledged lost boy.
Unceremoniously, he dropped the object in front of Henry, who jumped slightly in surprise.
Pan snickered at the sight of Henry's anxious movements. It was always fun to watch him squirm. Keeping in the moment, he took a seat close to the boy who edged away from him and picked up Pan's offering.
"What's this?" Henry said, picking up the object carefully, as if worried it would suddenly gain life and bite him.
"It's a quill.." Pan deadpanned.
Henry shot him a look of exasperation. Obviously Henry knew it was a quill but what was becoming even more clear to the boy was that Pan had no intention of making this easy for him.
"Yeah, okay what do you want me to do with it? Write a ransom letter?"
Pan smirked and cocked his head to the side, as he was prone to do in manipulative conversations.
"Hm no. it'll be something much more prolific than that. You're a special boy, Henry. Even more so then I first imagined. You have the power to save me, save Neverland, with just the flick of your wrist."
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't play stupid, Henry. You're far too clever for that. You're the author. You write it and as long as you use the right tools, it comes true. Not just on Neverland but every where."
"The apprentice told me I shouldn't abuse power and anyway, I can't write anything that benefits me."
"A mere won't benefit you, not directly at least. You'll be saving me and the lost boys and Wendy. Your position will stay the same unless someone comes to save you."
"I am not doing it. I broke the quill for a reason, I can't have anyone being hurt because of something I wrote."
"But you can have people getting hurt because due to your inaction. That's a great deal better ." At that Pan crouched down to sit directly in front on Henry and placed a hand on his shoulder
"Henry, If you don't do this I promise you countless people will die."
"Because you'll kill them?"
"I won't have to. Neverland is dying, Henry. If it goes it will take everyone, the lost boys, the darlings, your family, everyone with it."
Henry bit his lip. He knew how important being the author was even though he was just a teenager. Since the Apprentice told him he couldn't bring his father back, he'd never once been tempted to write in a change.
"What do you want me to write".
Pan smirked.