I don't own Ofelia, Pan, or anyone else in this story (God, I wish I did). But they all belong to the amazing Guillermo Del Toro.
I do own her brother's personality, if that works.
Ofelia: You'll
see, when she smiles, you'll love her. Listen, if you do what I
say, I'll make you a promise. I'll take you to my kingdom and
I'll make you a prince. I promise you, a prince.
-Pan's
Labyrinth
La Promesa de la Princesa
(Prologue.)
He still knows nothing of his father, aside from the snatches he's heard from conversations when Mercedes thinks he isn't listening. It isn't much; they hardly ever mention him. When they do, it's not happily. He gathers that his father must have done something very wrong.
He has no idea he once had a sister, and that she chose death over having him harmed—even for a second. Mercedes has forbidden anyone to tell him.
He especially never heard anything about how he came to be with her. He knows she is not his mother, because she has told him that.
All he really knows about everything else is that he shouldn't ask. It isn't as though he'd remember anyway. The only thing he can recall is the flower that keeps appearing in his dreams, protected by deadly thorns. He once heard that the flower promised immortality to anyone who was brave enough to come up the mountain it was on and risk the poison of its barbs, but no one dared. No one bothered considering the greatness of such an idea when such danger came with it. And so, its miraculous gift remained unattainable.
He has no recollection of where he heard that fairy-tale. Mercedes never told it to him. None of the rebels know any stories about flowers. It is his first memory, and his most recurrent dream. And every time, just before he wakes up, he hears, so faintly it took him several nights before he could determine what it says:
"A prince. I promise you, a prince."
It's short, yes, but it has a point. It's going somewhere.